Now I would die to see a sieun ver of “you came on my lap?”😝😝
Not On Purpose
baku version su-ho version hyun-tak version seongjae version yeongbin version wooyoung version beomseok version
Pairing: Si-eun x fem!reader
POV: 3rd person, reader-insert
Tone: Softly filthy, restrained tension, quiet dominance
Content Warning: Grinding, accidental orgasm, possessive behavior, mild overstimulation, soft dom Si-eun, filthy language
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Y/N was always touching him. Always climbing into his space like it was hers to claim.
He never said anything. Not when she sat too close. Not when her hand found his arm, his wrist, the hem of his shirt. Not when she kicked her legs over his lap while he studied.
She was affectionate like that—obnoxiously soft. He was not.
So when she clambered over him that afternoon and plopped herself right down on his lap like it was the couch cushion, he didn’t react.
Didn’t even look up from his book.
"You’re so warm," she murmured, leaning into him.
"Hn."
She wiggled a little.
That got his eyes to flick up. Barely.
"Y/N."
"What?" she said, smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You’re comfy. I’m cold."
"That’s not my problem."
But he didn’t push her off. Didn’t tell her to move.
So she stayed there, straddling one of his thighs. She leaned forward just enough to hook her chin over his shoulder and let her body melt against him. Her cheek rested against the slope of his neck. She could feel the quiet, steady way he breathed.
Everything about him was calm. Controlled. Still.
It made her want to ruin it.
She shifted again, slowly this time, grinding her hips just enough to feel the seam of her shorts drag against the denim of his jeans.
A sharp inhale. Barely audible.
His fingers tightened around the edge of the book.
"Are you serious?" he asked quietly.
She blinked, innocent. "Serious about what?"
He turned his head slightly, just enough that she could see his eyes. Flat. Dangerous.
"Don’t play with me."
"I’m not," she said softly. “I’m just—sitting.”
"That’s not what you’re doing."
Still, he didn’t stop her.
Maybe that’s what made her bold enough to do it again. A slow, tentative roll of her hips, just once. And again.
It wasn’t even about getting off. Not at first. It was the feeling of it. The friction, the heat, the fact that Si-eun wasn’t moving at all—but his jaw was clenched tight, his hands stiff, his breathing sharper by the second.
She wasn’t sure when her breath started catching. When the ache between her legs turned real. When her fingers dug into his shoulders just to steady herself.
Si-eun didn’t help. Didn’t guide her hips, didn’t touch her, didn’t even shift to let her grind easier. He just watched—eyes pinned to her like he was memorizing the way she moved. The wet, shameful drag of her soaked panties against his thigh. The way her lashes fluttered and her mouth parted, panting.
She started trembling.
“I—fuck,” she whispered.
Her forehead dropped to his shoulder. Her thighs were clenching tight around him now, her hips chasing that friction desperately. His thigh was soaked. She didn’t care.
One more grind. And another. And then—
Her whole body seized. Heat burst low in her stomach, and she moaned against his neck—soft, broken, and shocked.
She came.
Right on his lap.
She didn’t even realize what happened until she collapsed against him, breathing hard and trembling, hips still twitching with the aftershocks.
There was a long silence.
Then his voice—low, calm.
“You came on my lap?”
Her heart dropped. She jerked her head up, horrified.
“I—I didn’t mean to—Si-eun, I swear, I wasn’t—”
“You weren’t trying to?” he asked, still staring at her. His voice was unreadable. Flat.
“No— I mean yes— I mean I was just—fuck,” she breathed, cheeks burning.
She moved to climb off him, but his hand caught her thigh. Firm. Heavy.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Y/N froze.
His eyes dropped, scanning the mess between them. Her soaked shorts. The dark spot staining the denim of his jeans. He pressed his fingers against her core, slow and deliberate.
She choked out a gasp.
“…Still sensitive?” he murmured.
Her thighs twitched.
He slid his hand between her legs, brushing over the soaked fabric with featherlight touches. Teasing. Mean.
"You really couldn’t help yourself," he said quietly.
"I—I didn’t mean to," she whispered.
"But you did." He leaned in, voice like a whisper against her ear. "And now you’re going to do it again."
Her breath caught. "Si-eun—"
He hooked his hands under her thighs and pulled her closer until their hips were flush. She could feel the heat of him beneath her now—hard, barely restrained. She hadn’t even noticed how turned on he was until now.
"You think I’m just going to let you make a mess like that," he said softly, "and not take it personally?"
She squirmed. His grip tightened.
"You’ll sit still," he murmured, voice cool. “And you’ll come again.”
“But—”
“Do you want me to fuck you right here?”
Her mouth opened. No sound came out.
He watched her. A flicker of something darker in his eyes.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said, gaze fixed to her face. “Me, pinning you right here, making you cry all over my lap.”
Y/N whimpered.
“But not yet.” He leaned closer. “If I fuck you now, it won’t be gentle. You’re already shaking. You’ll get overwhelmed.”
His hands shifted under her thighs, lifting her slightly and then guiding her hips back down—right against his thigh.
She gasped. Her clit throbbed. The contact was so much worse now—better—after coming once.
“Grind,” he ordered.
“What?”
“You heard me. Move.”
She swallowed.
Her hands found his shoulders again. Slowly, she rolled her hips. One circle. Another.
She was soaked. It felt obscene.
“Faster.”
She obeyed. Her breath was coming in gasps now, little whimpers spilling out with each thrust. Si-eun didn’t move, just watched her fall apart, his hands gripping her waist, keeping her steady.
When her thighs started shaking again, his hand slid between them. Fingers rubbing her through the damp cotton. Unforgiving. Precise.
She broke with a sob—her whole body curling forward as she came again, harder this time. Her nails dug into his back. Her vision went white.
By the time she collapsed against him, she was trembling, soaked, ruined.
He tilted her chin up. Made her look at him.
“You’ll clean this up,” he said, gaze flicking down to the mess between them. “With your mouth.”
She whimpered.
"And then," he murmured, eyes darkening, "I’ll fuck you properly."
the weak hero class boys (1 & 2) in a relationship…
WEAK HERO CLASS BOYS - RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS
Pairing: whc boys x fem!reader
Synopsis: how the whc boys would treat you in a relationship 🤗
Content Warning: kissing, jealousy
Happy Reading! 🤍
ꨄ Note: just my PERSONAL OPINION on how i think they would be in a relationship saurr🐒
yeon sieun:
- veryyy shy at first but is so sweet and gentle with you
-if he’s in love he puts you first before everything else, even his studies, your happiness goes before anything
-is very quiet and has a hard time communicating his feelings on things but tries for you
-admires you from afar in a sort of devoted and possessive way
-helps you study and learn the curriculum so you can pass your classes
-only ever laughs and smiles with you or suho
-doesn’t really like pet names but will blush like a tomato when you call him ‘my love’
ahn suho:
-soo clingy with you, would literally skip work to see you
-always compliments you just to see your nervous smile
-will always show up at your door with food at the end of his shift
-LOVES taking you out to new restaurants and places
-has a whole playlist dedicated to you with his favorite songs
-he bought you a blue arm pillow to match his pink one
-is VERY protective over you and deliberately watches how others treat you, will beat ahh if he has too
oh beomseok:
-is a bit shy with you but tries to act overly confident at first
-doesn’t know how to show affection so you mostly are the one initiating intimate interactions, he does love holding your hand though
-gets really jealous easily and will grow aggressive towards you sometimes, but you reassure him constantly
-never feels like he’s good enough for you but doesn’t tell you
-steals money from his dad to take you out to an expensive dinner once in a blue moon, most of your dates are usually going on walks or sleepovers at his house
-his dad is almost never home because of traveling, so he always invites you over since he’s alone
-you make him feel safe enough to speak about his traumatic experiences with his dad, he breaks down crying into your arms by the end of the conversation and you hold him while rubbing his back
jeon yeongbin:
-he’s obsessed with you and posts you ALL over his social medias, his ig bio is def something like “ I ❤️ my gf ” with his corny ahh, and only follows you
-IS a poser and acts like he knows all about your favorite music artists, movies, and interests but will easily slip up
-always takes you shopping and buys you clothes, makeup, perfume, honestly anything and EVERYTHING you want
-LOVES pda and makes out with you in the hallways at school but you always pull away before things get too heated…
-wants to get a matching name tattoo with you one day
-hates when other guys try to talk to you and will just mean mug them and talk out of his ahh to them
-likes showing you off when you go to the club and will take like a million different pictures of you telling you how to pose, basically becoming your personal photographer
kang wooyoung:
-invites you to every single one of his fights because it makes him feel more confident knowing you’re there
-sends you pictures of his bloody knuckles right after
-takes you out to movie and theme park dates, is an adrenaline junkie so be prepared to almost shit bricks on the most frightening roller coaster ever while he’ll just laugh like a maniac
-bullies you like it’s a love language and you do it back until he takes it to far, he then realizes you’re actually mad and begs for your forgiveness when you tell him it’s the only way you’ll talk to him again
-when you start a new romance show with him he acts like he hates it and finds it corny, but secretly gets so invested and accidentally finishes the show without you
-is scared of smelling bad around you so he showers twice a day even if he didn’t have a fight and will spray a little too much cologne…
-if you ever try to play fight with him he will only go as far as to get on top of you and pin your hands to prove his strength, and it’s lowkey attractive to him how easily you struggle beneath him
go hyuntak:
-lowkey would get your initial in his haircut
-loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his sports hoodies
-kisses you SO passionately and will make out with you for hours on end
-always invites you to play basketball with him but sometimes you just end up watching him play with his teammates
-you got him a custom basketball with his favorite colors and name on it and he shed a tear, baku clowned on him for months
-will teach you the basics of basketball and taekwondo, eventually opens up to you on how badly he wishes his knee wasn’t injured and how his goals have changed since then
-always tells you how much he wants to marry you and have kids with you one day, you’ll end up planning your entire future in the span of a 5 hour long conversation
park humin:
-is very silly and jokes around with you a lot, he makes you laugh like every 0.3 seconds of the day
-will let you dye his hair a random color of your choosing one week out of the month, one time you gave him rainbow hair because you said he reminded you of a unicorn
-you guys have matching pajamas of your favorite cartoon couple (ex. hello kitty and batman)
-always sneaks in leftovers from his dad’s restaurant for you since he can’t really take you out to fancy dinners
-will listen to your favorite songs when he misses you
-always texts you in all caps unless he’s really tired or something is bothering him…
-invites you to his basketball games and his eyes sparkle when he sees you with a custom shirt that says “baku’s gf, ex. #7” and his smile literally grows to his forehead
seo juntae:
-is soo cutie bf sunshine coded, is literally a walking ray of sunshine and he makes even your worst days seem like the best
-always gets you your favorite foods or things that reminded him of you (ex. a pen with your fave character or color)
-his glasses fog up when you kiss him and he blushes because he grows nervous
-you guys always hangout in his space at school during lunch and he prepares you your favorite meals and drinks
-tells you all about the current manga/manhwa he’s reading
-absolutely loves it when you hug him, it makes him feel so adored
-calls you all sorts of petnames (ex. cutie, sweetheart, princess, and the occasional ‘baby’ when he’s feeling confident)
geum seongje:
-you hateee his smoking addiction so he tells you he’ll quit (which usually lasts about 6 hours before he eventually gives in)
-will make you take pictures of him when he feels nonchalant and cool, you try to contain your giggles as he poses like he owns the world
-will start up arguments just for fun, rage baiting is basically his favorite hobby apart from physically fighting
-is very possessive and jealous so he’ll threaten to (or will) beat someone’s ahh when they look at you too long
-studies your face when you fall asleep and just admires you, he’ll never admit he does it though
-will force you to bully kids on roblox with him on voicechat until he eventually gets banned, again…
-tells you about his childhood and how he was bullied for his glasses, then randomly changes the subject and acts like it didn’t happen
na baekjin:
-knows everything about you but doesn’t let it show
-ALWAYS has eyes on you and knows exactly what you’re doing and where
-pushes you to do your very best in school and will make you study with him, he’ll tutor you for hours until you finally figure it out
-spoils you with expensive gifts, especially if he messes up or doesn’t see you for a while because of work
-he’ll send you 1000 of your favorite flowers to your house on special holidays
-hates pda but will occasionally hold your hand and guide you, he purposely gets a few inches in front of you to feel like your body guard
-he rarely fights people since he usually sends the union members but every time someone is mean towards you… he’ll beat their ahh himself and torture them for hurting you
ㅤsypnosis ⁝ㅤㅤif you were going to learn anything, why not ask the smartest person you know ?ㅤㅤ〝 cw.ㅤㅤprotected sex, mentions of virginity ﹢ sexual curiosity, light body worship / praise, best friends to ??ㅤㅤ﹪ㅤㅤ𝗒𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗂-𝖾𝗎𝗇 × 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
you met si-eun when you were sixteen. he sat alone at the back of the classroom, a thin shadow against the window, always half-lit by grey skies and never once acknowledging the chatter around him. he was the type of person who didn’t seem real at first. quiet in a way that wasn’t shy, just detached. still. not like a boy, but like a blade, folded cold and sharp.
you, on the other hand, were always a little too soft. not dumb. not loud. just… curious in a way people didn’t always understand. you liked to ask questions no one else thought to ask. and si-eun, for all his silence, never once ignored you when you did.
the first time you spoke to him, you asked if he liked the rain. he looked at you for a long moment, eyes unreadable, and said, “i don’t like or dislike things. they just happen.” you nodded. then sat beside him the next day. and every day after that.
friendship with si-eun wasn’t simple. he didn’t laugh much. didn’t talk unless there was something to say. but you learned to read the space between his words. how his fingers twitched when he was thinking hard. how he always bought two bottles of water and silently handed you one without asking. how he walked you home when the sun went down, even if he never said why.
you got used to it — his silence, his stares, the way he always seemed like he was calculating the world and choosing you anyway.
people didn’t get it. they said si-eun was scary. too smart. too closed off. and maybe he was. but not with you.
with you, he listened. when you asked about physics, he explained. when you forgot things, he remembered. when you cried over a bad grade, he let you sulk in his room and only rolled his eyes once, before quietly pushing a packet of snacks your way.
you admired him. that was the simplest truth of it all. not in a puppy love way. not like those girls who whispered about him in the halls. you admired the way he always knew what to do. how he seemed immune to everything that confused you — emotions, impulses, the mess of being young. si-eun had answers. you.. had questions.
you always thought si-eun was a little unreal. not in the dramatic, daydream kind of way. more like he didn’t seem to belong to the same world as everyone else. while your classmates stumbled over themselves, trying to be liked or seen or chosen, si-eun just existed. unbothered. untouched. like the rules everyone else followed didn’t apply to him, and maybe they didn’t.
he was too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. not just in class — though his grades made teachers swoon — but in fights too, the kind that happened in empty stairwells or behind buildings when someone pushed too far. he always won. but to you, he was just si-eun.
you, who couldn’t punch a wall without crying. who didn’t understand half the formulas written on the board. who walked through the world like it was full of things you hadn’t figured out yet. and somehow, for reasons you never fully grasped, he liked being around you.
sometimes you wondered why. you talked too much. you asked questions that made other people look at you funny. once you asked si-eun if he believed in ghosts and spent the next fifteen minutes rambling about the difference between spirits and shadows. he didn’t interrupt. didn’t laugh. just listened, completely still, until you trailed off with a sheepish “…never mind.”
“I think you’re more interesting than a textbook,” he said after a beat and hell you didn’t stop smiling for hours.
the others noticed it, of course. “why does he only talk to you?” su-ho once asked, mouth full of snack crumbs and voice full of suspicion. “like, what do you even do to him?”
“is he maybe into weird girls?” he snorted, dodging a soda can you threw at his head. “it’s kinda funny watching him look at you like that.” he added.
you had no idea what su-ho or they meant. you weren’t doing anything. si-eun was just your friend. your weird, closed-off, unnaturally competent friend who let you fall asleep on his shoulder during movie nights and always stood a little too close in crowded places.
who handed you napkins without being asked when you spilled something. who once got a nosebleed during a fight and still texted you right after: you need help with physics tomorrow?
you didn’t overthink it. you admired him, sure. everyone did. but your admiration was different.
you liked how he remembered small things. like how you hated seafood and couldn’t drink coffee without sugar. you liked how he never tried to make you feel smaller for being confused or slow. even when you whined and said things like “i’m gonna drop out and open a flower shop,” si-eun just nodded and said, “you’d be good at that.”
he didn’t say things unless he meant them. and that made you want to believe every word that came out of his mouth. he wasn’t as expressionless as people thought, either. you learned how to read him.
when he was annoyed, he’d tap his fingers — short, quick movements like he was trying not to snap. when he was amused, he’d blink a little slower, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile.
and when he looked at you, sometimes — just sometimes — there was something different in his eyes. not fondness, exactly. something heavier. softer. you didn’t know what to call it, but it made your skin feel too warm.
si-eun wasn’t much of a talker, but he never shut you out. not really. once, you asked him if he liked being your friend. it was a stupid question. you regretted it the second it left your mouth.
but he looked at you and said, “you’re the only person who makes me feel like.. i’m not just good for fixing things.” you didn’t say anything back. just leaned against him and hoped he could hear your heartbeat. it was loud. embarrassingly so.
and now, you were in si-eun’s room again, the one place that never changed. the curtains were still half-drawn, the light outside dim enough to make everything inside feel like it was holding its breath.
his desk was organized like always — books stacked in perfect columns, black pens lined in a row, a digital clock ticking too quietly. you were on the floor, stretched out on your stomach, chin propped up on your arms, your phone somewhere nearby but forgotten.
si-eun sat behind you, back against the wall, legs stretched long beside yours. he was scrolling through something on his tablet, probably notes you wouldn’t understand even if you tried. you didn’t know why your heart had been beating too fast all day.
maybe it was because you’d started noticing things you used to ignore. like the way his hair had grown just a little longer over his ears. or how his sleeves were pushed up, exposing veins and wrist bones and that thin scar on his forearm that you’d once touched without thinking.
or how his voice sounded different when he talked to you — slower, quieter, like he didn’t need to say much at all to keep you listening. you couldn’t focus. your thoughts were loud in your head, tangled up and restless.
you were thinking about how you’d never kissed anyone before. not seriously. not properly. and you weren’t embarrassed, exactly — it just felt strange. like you were missing something that everyone else seemed to understand instinctively. like you were too far behind, and eventually someone would find out.
but the real problem wasn’t the kiss. it was that you kept thinking about what it might be like if si-eun was the one to teach you. the thought had been creeping in lately. quiet, uninvited. the way his mouth would feel. the way his hand might tilt your jaw.
the way he’d look at you after. it didn’t make sense — you weren’t dating. he wasn’t flirty. he wasn’t even particularly gentle. but there was something in the way he always noticed you. something that made your stomach twist and your fingers curl.
so you said it. you didn’t even mean to. it just slipped out, too casual, too soft, like a pebble dropped into still water.
“hey… can I ask you something?”
si-eun hummed. not looking up yet.
“it’s gonna sound really dumb.”
he glanced at you then. his face was unreadable, but you could feel his attention sharpening. he always listened like that — completely, like he was watching a wire for signs of tension.
you hesitated. your skin prickled.
“…do you know how to kiss someone?”
the silence hit you immediately. thick. loaded. you almost regretted saying it — almost laughed it off, ready to cover it up with a joke, but then he sat forward slightly, tablet lowering to his lap, and your breath caught in your throat.
“why are you asking me that?” his voice was calm. too calm. not teasing, not annoyed, just.. still?
you swallowed, suddenly aware of how close you were to him, how the space between your knees and his was barely wide enough to fit a thought.
“I don’t know,” you said, your voice smaller now. “I guess… I was just wondering. you always seem to know everything. and—” you paused. “I haven’t. not really. I mean, I’ve never done it properly.”
si-eun stared at you for a long time. his eyes weren’t cold, but they were heavy, like he was holding something back. something sharp and coiled and dangerous, sitting quiet just under the surface.
“and you want me to teach you?”
you blinked, he didn’t sound surprised, more like he was trying to confirm it. like he’d already run the calculations in his head and was now trying to decide if he should press the button.
you sat up slowly, heart pounding so hard you thought it might echo. “I just thought… if anyone could explain it, it’d be you.”
he let out a breath. not a laugh. just an exhale, low and almost bitter. “you really think kissing someone is something you can explain?”
your mouth opened. closed. “you’re smart,” you tried again, weakly. “you’re good at things.”
“i’m not good at this.”
you tilted your head, trying to read him. “you’ve kissed someone before, right?”
he didn’t answer, which meant yes. you nodded, trying to play it cool, trying to stay where the air wasn’t burning.
“i’m just curious,” you said, softer now. “i’ve never done it. I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like.”
si-eun didn’t move for a long time. then, quietly: “what do you want it to feel like?”
you blinked. “I… don’t know. warm, I guess?” his jaw tensed. his hands stayed in his lap, fingers laced together, like he was trying not to reach for something. you. the air. anything.
you didn’t say anything else. just watched him. waited. the way you always did when he needed time to think. and finally, si-eun looked up. looked at you.
“come here.”
your chest squeezed. you didn’t know what he meant, not exactly — but you moved anyway. toward him. slow. unsure. your knees touched his first. then your legs slid between his. your hands hovered. you didn’t know where to put them. he fixed that for you.
si-eun reached out, and gently — like he’d been imagining this for a long time — he cupped your face. his palm was warm. steady. your skin lit up under his fingers.
he looked at you like he was memorizing you. like he didn’t know whether to pull back or fall forward. and maybe, for the first time in all the years you’d known him, he looked a little unsure.
but his voice didn’t shake. “i’ll show you once,” he said, low. “but after that… you don’t get to pretend you don’t know what you’re doing anymore.” you nodded.
his mouth met yours slowly, at first. like he was testing it — testing you — making sure you wouldn't flinch, wouldn’t pull away once you realized this wasn’t just about helping you anymore. this wasn’t about being smart, or useful, or your reliable best friend. this was him giving in to a thought he shouldn’t have had in the first place.
you didn’t move for the first second. you just felt it. how warm his lips were. how firm. how careful he was, like he was afraid one wrong angle might make you disappear. and then he tilted his head just slightly, hand still cradling your cheek, and kissed you deeper.
and you made a sound — a soft, breathy sound in the back of your throat — that made him freeze. just for a moment. like hearing you respond flipped something in him he hadn’t meant to turn on.
his other hand came up, resting at the side of your neck, and his thumb brushed over the pulse there. and you didn’t even realize you were leaning into him until your knees were bracketing his thighs and your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.
“you’re shaking,” he murmured, against your mouth.
“you kissed me,” you breathed back.
he huffed something between a laugh and a groan, thumb dragging lightly across your bottom lip as he pulled back a fraction — just enough to look at you.
“this was your idea.”
“you said just once.”
“do you want me to stop?”
you stared at him, he looked calm, too calm. again. but his eyes — his eyes were glassy, his breath unsteady, and you could feel it in the way his hands stayed on your skin like he didn’t want to let go.
you shook your head, slow. “no.”
his jaw flexed, and then he kissed you again, hungrier. no more holding back. no more waiting. the second his mouth opened over yours, you felt your whole body react — your stomach tightening, thighs pressing in, heart stuttering out of rhythm.
his tongue slid past your lips, coaxing yours to move, to respond, and gosh — gosh — the low sound he made when you kissed him back with more pressure, more curiosity, more want —
you’d never heard that from him before.
your hands were in his hair before you could think about it, fingers digging in as he pulled you closer, mouth hot and desperate now. he shifted beneath you, letting you settle fully in his lap, your knees on either side of his hips — and when your bodies pressed flush like that, you both gasped into the kiss at the same time.
his grip tightened on your waist. “fuck,” he muttered, lips dragging down to your jaw, your neck. “you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”
“then show me,” you whispered. “teach me.” he let out a shaky breath. like he was barely hanging on.
“you have no idea what you’re asking for.” but his hands were already sliding beneath your shirt, and you weren’t stopping him.
his fingers slid under your shirt, slow and tentative, careful not to make any sudden movements as if you were something delicate. you weren’t sure why your body trembled at his touch — it was barely anything, just skin grazing skin, the slightest warmth over your waist — but somehow it made you feel stripped raw.
like you were finally standing on the edge of something you’d only ever dared to imagine. you didn’t stop him. you tilted your head instead, offering more of your throat, and his mouth found the hollow there — gentle, reverent, teeth barely brushing.
his palms flattened, spanning across your hips, feeling the rise and fall of your breath like he was memorizing it. “you okay?” he asked you softly, voice lower than usual, hoarse at the edges.
you nodded. “yeah.” he paused, like he was giving you space to change your mind. “you’re sure?” your fingers curled around his wrists, holding him to you. grounding him. “I trust you.”
and that must’ve been all he needed. because something in him cracked. a quiet breaking, not a loud one, like ice melting, like something long-contained finally spilling over.
his mouth was back on yours with a hunger that hadn’t been there before, lips parting yours open, tongue licking into your mouth with purpose. he kissed you like he’d been waiting a lifetime. kissed you like this was all he’d ever wanted but never believed he could have.
and when his hips rolled up against yours, you felt it — him. hard beneath his sweats, thick and undeniable, pressing right where you were already aching. your breath caught. your legs tensed around his sides. you whimpered, just a little, and his forehead dropped to your shoulder with a guttural sound.
“fuck,” he muttered, voice low and shaken. “don’t do that.”
“what?” you breathed.
“make sounds like that. I—” his hands gripped your waist tighter. “i’m trying to go slow.”
you could feel your pulse everywhere now. your thighs clenched again, instinctively, seeking friction. “you want to stop?” he asked, a final out, even now, even with the way his body trembled.
you shook your head. “no. I don’t want to stop.” he lifted his head. his eyes were dark, lashes fluttering slightly like he was holding back something deeper. “do you want me to be your first?”
your answer came in a whisper. “yes.”
he kissed you once more, slower this time. then reached beside the bed, into the drawer, and when he pulled out a condom, you blinked.
“you just… have that?”
his mouth twitched. not quite a smile. “su-ho gave it to me.”
“as a joke?”
“he said something stupid. like, about how I need to ‘get laid before I die cause my pen doesn't work anymore’ or something.”
you laughed, despite yourself. and si-eun’s eyes softened.
“but now,” he said, voice turning quiet again, “i’m glad I have it.”
he rolled it on carefully. you watched, heart pounding, seeing him fully now for the first time. long and thick, flushed at the tip, already leaking. your mouth went dry.
you hadn’t seen a guy naked before, let alone like this, aroused, ready. you swallowed hard, thighs tightening. your whole body ached with nerves and want.
“you okay?” he asked again, brushing hair from your face. “yeah,” you managed. “just… new.”
he leaned down and kissed your temple. “then we’ll go slow.”
he pulled your shorts and underwear down in one motion, so gently it felt like a question. you lifted your hips, let him slide the fabric away, suddenly aware of the cool air on your exposed skin, the vulnerability of being bare in front of someone for the first time. but he didn’t leer. didn’t stare. he looked at you like you were something to be honored. something sacred.
his fingers slid between your legs, testing. your whole body jerked at the first touch — light pressure over your clit that made your thighs twitch.
“you’re already wet,” he said, breath catching. “fuck. you’re soaking.”
your face burned. “sorry—”
“don’t apologize,” he said quickly. “that’s good. that’s so good.”
he dipped one finger lower, easing it into you slowly. you gasped at the stretch. even that was new. he stilled, letting your body adjust, whispering, “breathe,” as he stroked your inner walls gently.
once you relaxed, he added another, curling his fingers, spreading you open with deliberate care. the sound of your slick filled the space between you — wet, soft, real. when he pressed his thumb back to your clit, circling it gently, your hips jolted, and you whined.
“you’re doing so good,” he whispered. “so fucking good.”
your eyes fluttered shut, body rocking helplessly against his hand. when his fingers finally slipped away, you felt empty. needy. but then he was positioning himself, cock brushing against your entrance.
“deep breath,” he murmured. “i’ll go slow.”
and he did.
the first push was the hardest. you tensed without meaning to, your cunt clenching, breath hitching — but he paused, whispered to you again, and let your body guide him.
once you opened up, he eased in deeper. your fingers clawed at his shoulders, trying to hold onto something. the stretch burned. it was full, unrelenting, almost too much.
he was big. bigger than you’d expected. and still he moved gently, carefully, until his hips were flush with yours and you’d taken all of him.
“jesus christ,” he breathed, shaking. “you feel—so tight. so fucking perfect.”
you exhaled shakily. “you’re big.”
he chuckled softly, forehead pressing to yours. “you’re doing amazing.”
he didn’t move right away. just kissed your cheek, your collarbone, brushing his nose against your skin like he was grounding himself.
your walls fluttered around him, already adjusting, and when he finally started to thrust — slow and shallow — it knocked the air from your lungs.
each movement was controlled. each drag of his cock inside you purposeful. he hit deeper with every rock of his hips, and it didn’t take long before your body began to want it.
your breath hitched. your fingers dug in. you let out a moan — small, involuntary — and si-eun groaned. “fuck. that sound.”
you tilted your hips toward him instinctively, seeking more, and he took the cue. he rolled his hips, found a rhythm. and when he shifted slightly — angled deeper — you cried out.
“right there?”
you nodded helplessly. “si-eun—please—”
his hand found your clit again, rubbing you just right while he fucked you through slow, deep strokes. your head fell back. the tension was building fast now, tight, molten, dizzying. your cunt squeezed around him with every thrust, every perfect touch.
and then you broke. your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, rushing through your body, stealing your breath, leaving you writhing beneath him. your cunt fluttered around his cock, milking him, and that’s what pushed him over.
he groaned your name, voice wrecked, and fucked into you one last time, deep and hard. you felt him twitch, felt the heat of him spill into the condom as he came, hips stuttering, body pressed tight to yours, jaw clenched.
you collapsed into each other, breathless and shaking, his arms wrapping around you like he couldn’t bear to let you go. neither of you spoke for a while. but eventually, he kissed your shoulder and whispered, “you’re mine now, you know.”
and you smiled, because you already were. you didn’t know how long the silence stretched between you after it was over, only that you didn’t want to move from the warmth of his body or the way his arms had circled around you so tightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away.
his breath was still a little uneven against your skin, his chest rising and falling against your back now that he’d pulled you into a side hold, your legs tangled under the sheets and your heart still thudding softly in your chest.
he hadn’t said anything more since the last kiss he’d pressed to your shoulder. hadn’t asked how you were. hadn’t pulled away or shifted like he was finished with you.
he was just holding you.
you weren’t sure what came over you, but your fingers reached out and curled lightly into the soft fabric of his shirt, he’d pulled it on again after discarding the condom and wiping you up with the gentlest hands, like it was the most natural thing in the world to clean and dress you himself.
you hadn’t even realized how shy you felt until that part, but he hadn’t teased. hadn’t smirked. just murmured, “tell me if anything hurts, okay?” and you remembered thinking then, he really did think everything through. even now.
“you’re really quiet,” you whispered, voice still hoarse.
his arm tightened around your waist. “thinking.”
“about what?”
he paused for a beat, and then his voice came out low. “how lucky i am.”
you blinked.
your heart stuttered in a different way now, softer, almost painful. he wasn’t the type to say things like that. si-eun didn’t do grand confessions or obvious declarations. he always kept his feelings close to his chest. but now, lying here in the dim warmth of your room, the words felt like they’d slipped out before he could stop them.
you didn’t say anything back. just nudged your head gently under his chin and curled into him more fully.
and for the first time, you felt his lips brush your hair. not in a lustful way. not in a way that tried to start anything again. just quiet affection. soft. steady. like he didn’t want the moment to end either.
you don’t remember when you fell asleep, only that you woke up the next morning still in his arms.
he was already awake when you opened your eyes, blinking blearily against the sunlight seeping in through your curtains. his hair was a little messy, eyes on you like he’d been watching you for a while now, but not in a way that made you nervous. he looked.. calm. at peace. like maybe sleeping beside someone had made him rest easier than he had in years.
“morning,” he murmured, voice rough.
you smiled sleepily. “hi.”
he looked like he wanted to say something, then settled for brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. “you still good?”
“mmhmm.” you stretched slightly, muscles sore but not unpleasantly so. “better than good.”
he looked relieved. and then, like something clicked in his head, he muttered, “wait—class. what time is it?”
“we have plenty of time,” you said, laughing softly. “I always set an early alarm.”
he groaned and flopped back beside you, an arm thrown over his eyes. “you’re too responsible.”
“well, you need me to keep you on track.”
you hadn’t meant it to come out so naturally, but the second you said it, you felt his hand drop from his face and his eyes meet yours again. and not that heavy, unblinking stare you used to catch him slipping into when he thought no one noticed.
his eyes had always carried something haunted in them, ever since the day you met. something fractured, a little hollow, like he’d learned too early that the world could betray you if you weren’t ready for it.
but this morning, it was different. you didn’t notice it right away. it was in the tiny shift. the way his gaze warmed instead of hardened. how he blinked slower, more at ease, like the knots in his chest had loosened overnight. you stared at him for a long second, trying to trace what had changed — and then you realized.
the sadness was still there. maybe it always would be. but it wasn’t all-consuming anymore. not sharp. not cold. there was something softer behind his eyes now.
something that bloomed quiet and tender, like spring cracking through frost. and for the first time, he didn’t look like he was fighting himself just to be here. he looked like he wanted to be.
you leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “you’re different today.”
he raised a brow. “already?”
“I mean it in a good way,” you said. “your eyes don’t look sad.”
he was quiet for a second, then laughed under his breath. “maybe it’s because you kissed me back.”
“maybe it’s because I let you fuck me.”
he turned to face you fully, lips twitching into a smirk now, but not cocky. still fond. “both.”
you rolled your eyes and shoved at him lightly. he caught your hand. and then he said, “can I take you somewhere today?”
you blinked. “what do you mean?”
“after class. I wanna take you out. just us.”
your heart flipped a little. “a date?”
he nodded.
“okay,” you whispered. “i’d really like that.”
the walk to campus that morning felt strangely new, even though it was the same sidewalk you took every morning. the sun was a little too bright, your bag slung too casually over your shoulder, and si-eun was right beside you — hands in his pockets, that unreadable expression on his face that made most people wary of him.
but not you. not anymore. not with the way his pinky kept brushing yours on purpose as you walked. not with the way he leaned in to murmur, “you’re sure you’re not sore?” while your classmates were still ten feet behind.
and definitely not with the way you glanced up and saw it again — that look in his eyes. no longer cold, no longer cracked, still intense, still si-eun.
but clearer, softer, like he could breathe a little easier. like you were the first thing he’d ever let soften him. and god, you wanted to protect that softness for as long as he’d let you.
Summary ⟅ You're under a lot of academic stress and Sieun is the one that has to comfort you during your crashout.
Requested: @carrotcakeesblog
Sieun x reader / ⟣ Fluff/ Comfort/ 1k ⟢
Lily's note — 🪷 WE"RE SO BACK BABY!!! I'm so excited to be writing about my fav kdrama again i missed my boys🥹 if you liked this I'd really appreciate a like, comment, or reblog since I'm getting back into the fandom :p okay enjoy hehe
When the familiar beep of his keypad rings out, Sieun doesn’t look up from his textbook. He knows it’s you since you’re the only one that has the passcode to his apartment, and he waits for your usual hyper greeting or the rustle of a plastic bag full with snacks.
But the unusual stomping of footsteps catches his attention and he glances up just as your bag goes hurtling through the air, skidding across the floor with a loud thud. His eyes widen as you come into view just as quick as a storm cloud, fury emanating from your tense body.
You kick the bag—again and again—until it slams against the wall. You freeze, standing in the center of his living room, your hands clenched so tight at your sides that your knuckles turn white. You lift your head just enough for him to catch the tremble of your bottom lip, then your shoulders slouch forward, and suddenly you’re crying.
He jolts up at your choking sobs as you lift your hands to bury your face in them, your body shaking with every wail that leaves you. He hesitates before his fingers wrap gently around your wrists, tugging them away from your face to reveal red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked puffy cheeks. His heart twists at the sight.
“Can I have a h-hug?”
Your voice is small as you force the words out despite them catching between your sobs and sniffles, and Sieun swears he can feel his heart crack. He hates that you even have to ask but he understands it’s to not make him uncomfortable, even while you’re falling apart.
He pulls you into his body without responding, one handle sliding to hold the small of your back, the other cradling the back of your head to press you firmly into his chest. You cling to him, your fingers twisting into his shirt as you cry into the fabric.
He doesn’t know how long you stand there, but it’s long enough for his shirt to become damp and for your sobs to turn into quiet hiccups. When your calm enough, he pulls back to look at your face, taking both your hands in his to lead you to the couch.
You sit down and pull your knees to your chest as Sieun sits, body angled towards you, and he breaks the silence.
“Are you okay?”
He does everything to not cringe at himself because clearly you’re not okay. You’re the furthest thing from okay but words were never his strong suit, and he doesn’t know how to comfort you.
You open your mouth to answer but the second you start talking, the sobs break through again. Then you spill everything like a flood—all the stress, how tired you are, how nothing was making sense. The exam you did bad on, the homework you turned in late, the professors face falling in disappointment when you asked for an extension on a paper.
Sieun listens intently as you pour your heart out to him. When you pause to take a deep breath, he leans forward and rests his head on your knees. You blink rapidly to clear your bleary eyes as they meet his big round ones, glazed over with worry.
“How can I help?” He asks, quiet and earnest.
Despite all your hardships and feeling like you weren’t good enough, your lips crack into a smile. Because he just looked so cute and serious and eager to mend your pain. You lower your knees and lean towards him to wrap your arms around his neck. Another tear slips free but his thumb is brushing it away before it can fall too far. You sniffle and press your foreheads together.
“Can we just… sit together for a bit?” Your voice comes out hoarse. “I just really need a break from everything.”
“Of course,” he whispers with no hesitation.
You’re so used to being the one who initiates anything physical—reaching for him, intertwining your fingers together, pressing your lips against his—that when he tilts his head and presses his to yours, so incredibly soft and sweet, it catches you off guard.
Your hands trail to his cheeks, cupping them as your eyes flutter shut. You can feel his cheeks warming beneath your touch, especially when he pulls you in from your waist, guiding your legs across his lap until you’re curling into his side with surprising boldness.
You break the kiss just long enough to suck in a breath, then you lean back in, catching his bottom lip between yours. He melts into you and you can’t help the small noise of content that escapes.
Then you’re peppering tiny kisses to and around his mouth until his lips twitch upward and he’s smiling, shy and soft, your worries disappearing as you giggle at the sight.
“I think kissing you might be the perfect remedy to a bad day,” you murmur.
His smile turns even more bashful, his face dazed. “It’s making you feel better?”
You nod and he leans in again, pressing his lips back to yours with a gentleness that makes your heart ache in the best possible way, especially compared to its previous pain. You smile against his mouth and he returns it with a giddy one of his own.
When you finally pull away, you let your head fall to his shoulder as he leans down to rest his atop yours. Your fingers find his, playing with them as you whisper, “Thank you for making me feel better.”
“I didn't really do anything…”
“For listening. And just being with you is enough.”
He watches your fingers weave through his for a moment before saying, “Whenever you want… I can help you go back through whatever wasn’t working. Your homework and stuff.” His pinky catches on yours and he curls them together. “I’ll help you with everything.”
You smile and nuzzle closer, tucking yourself further into his side. “I’d love that.”
Once your breathing has fully settled and he’s sure the storm has passed, he murmurs against your hair, “I love you.”
You’re still tired, still stressed, but the weight doesn’t feel quite so heavy anymore. You close your eyes and press a kiss to the base of his neck.
Summary: A girl quietly endures the heartbreak of loving Ahn Suho in silence, only to discover he has a girlfriend, forcing herself to let go without ever confessing—until she finds quiet comfort in Sieun's unexpected understanding.
Taken!Ahn Suho x reader, eventual Yeon Sieun x reader
A/N: Found out my crush has a girlfriend, so now I have to back off—even though I never planned on making a move. Now I’m making it your problem, so here’s some angst for you.
Navigation
You should have known.
Ahn Suho was never yours.
He was kind—of course he was. Soft-spoken but confident, with a half-smile that felt like a secret made just for you. You clung to every moment he looked at you like that, even if deep down, you feared it meant nothing. Still, you let yourself fall. Quietly. Carefully. Secretly.
You loved him in the quiet way girls who know better often do—through hidden glances, saved messages, memorized coffee orders, and late-night thoughts you never shared.
No one knew.
Not your friends.
Not even Suho.
Especially not Suho.
You were terrified to say it. The thought of losing even the version of him you were allowed to have—the classmate, the occasional study buddy, the “you’re so easy to talk to” companion—was too much to risk.
So you settled for closeness. For crumbs. For late-night walks back from the library and shared music playlists. You told yourself you were imagining it—that heartbeat in your throat every time he brushed your shoulder, every time he looked up and smiled just at you.
Until the truth arrived—soft, but devastating.
It started with a picture.
You hadn’t meant to look. Someone in class nudged you during a break, whispering about how cute Suho and his girlfriend looked together in the new photo on his private story. You didn’t even follow him there, but you saw her on someone else’s screen. She was beautiful. Naturally, effortlessly. Leaning into him like she belonged there. His hand around her waist like he’d done it a thousand times. Smiling like he had everything he ever wanted.
And maybe he did.
You said nothing. You laughed at the picture like everyone else. You pretended it was news to you too.
But your chest cracked open in silence.
You walked home alone that night. No music. No distractions. Just your thoughts, pacing bitterly alongside you. It wasn’t that he had a girlfriend—no, you weren’t naive enough to think you had a chance. It was the realization that this fantasy you held onto, this soft, delicate string of hope you wrapped around your ribs… was always just you.
He never looked at you like you looked at him.
He never saved your voice notes or reread your texts.
He never lingered because of you.
And yet, here you were—mourning something that never existed.
You didn’t cry. Not at first.
Instead, you erased. Slowly. Gently. Brutally.
You muted his stories. You archived the photos where he stood beside you, grinning like the sun. You scrolled through your old messages and reread his “you’re one of my favorite people to talk to,” knowing now how little that meant. You smiled through the pain, because crying over someone who never loved you back felt like a waste of tears.
But the ache was real. Deep. Unrelenting.
And still… no one knew.
You didn’t tell anyone. You didn’t complain or wallow or ask, “Why not me?” Because you already knew. Girls like you don’t confess. Girls like you get over it. Quietly. Respectfully.
You were a girls’ girl, after all. You would never be the kind to wish her away, to hope their happiness fell apart just so yours could begin.
So you let it go.
Or you tried to.
But God, some nights felt like drowning. Watching him laugh across the cafeteria. Hearing someone mention his name. Walking past him in the hallway and pretending your stomach didn’t flip and sink all at once.
It was exhausting. Grieving someone who was never yours. Mourning moments that meant everything to you—and nothing to him.
That was the worst part, wasn’t it?
He’ll never know. He’ll never remember the way your hands shook when he touched your arm. He’ll never know that you dressed up that day just because you knew he’d be there. That the song he once shared was on your playlist for weeks.
He’ll never know that you loved him. Not fully. Not out loud. Not with fireworks. But with something gentler. Something steadier. A quiet kind of devotion that built itself up in silence and collapsed without a sound.
And in that silence—you started to disappear too.
Until Yeon Sieun.
You didn’t notice him at first. Not really. He was always there, always around. Reliable. Soft-eyed. The kind of boy who saw things no one else bothered to notice.
Like how your laughter didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore.
Like how you looked away too quickly whenever Suho passed by.
Like how you lingered a second too long when someone brought up Suho’s name.
One day, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you ducked into an empty classroom to cry in peace. You hadn’t meant for anyone to find you. But Sieun did.
He didn’t ask. He just sat beside you, quiet and warm, offering a pack of tissues like it was a lifeline.
“Is it someone you loved?” he asked gently.
You blinked at him, surprised. He didn’t say ‘like.’ He said ‘loved.’ Past tense. Like it was over. Like he knew you were trying to make it that way.
You nodded, just once. And he didn’t push.
That was the beginning.
The slow, careful unraveling of everything you kept buried.
Sieun became your solace. Not your rebound, not your distraction—just a friend. A real one. The kind who never judged your silence, who understood that heartbreak didn’t always come with broken promises or dramatic goodbyes. Sometimes, it came from hope. From the version of someone you built in your mind. From the story that only you were writing.
One afternoon, while walking back together in the rain, he glanced at you and said softly, “It’s okay if it still hurts.”
Your throat tightened. You wanted to say thank you. But the words stuck in your chest.
Because it did still hurt.
Not because Suho chose someone else.
But because you never gave yourself the chance to even be considered.
You’ll always wonder. What if you had been braver? What if you had said something? What if—
But then you’d glance at Sieun—his soft patience, his quiet loyalty—and realize that maybe some hearts aren’t meant to be conquered.
⟡ ﹒ in which ⌇ si-eun knew his friends saw him as the brooding, no-nonsense guy. he wasn't going to get clowned on because of how sweet he acts with you
⟡ ﹒ content⌇ gn reader, secret relationship, fluff
⟡ ﹒ listen to⌇ peach eyes - wave to earth
among his friends, si-eun was the rational, matter-of-fact guy. he was the person you went to for academic help, the kind of guy that couldn't keep up with his friends energy at all times.
si-eun also knew he would get absolutly clowned on for how he acted with you - with you, he didn't have to hold himself to a high standard. you had seen everything. you were home, where he could let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
so, when he saw you standing outside eunjang's school doors after a long, long school day, he nearly died from embarrassment. not because of you, but because of how he acted with you.
go-tak is the first to notice si-eun's furious redness. he tilts his head, inturupting baku's tangent -
─ "si-eun? why're you so... red?"
the group turns to look at him. he was starring straight ahead, barely moving, red like he was holding his breath. the group follows his eyes to you, standing at the gates with what seemed to be fried chicken in your arms. baku lets out a sly grin,
─ "hey si-eun... you know're?"
snapping out of his daze, he stalks towards you. just before you can greet him, he yanks you onto the sidewalk by your school uniform. yelping, he holds you against him and covers your mouth with his hand just as you protest.
he had taken you to the side of the school, in an alleyway littered with trash and whatnot. he hisses in your ear,
─ "didn't i tell you to wait for me at my house?"
you roll your eyes as you pry his hand off you.
─ "hmpf! what, do i embarrass you or something?"
he shakes his head, sighing. sitting on a crate against the brick wall, he seems hesitant to explain.
─ "well? do i?"
─ "no... i don't want the others to think im soft, or something."
this makes you pause for a second, and you break into a grin. taking his head into your hands, his pouting eyes stare at you.
─ "aww.. the strong, brooding si-eun is embarrassed? this is new!" you laugh at him, close to wheezing.
he tries to shake himself out of your grip, failing. just as he wants to complain, he hears pairs of feet skid into the alleyway's enterance. it was baku, go-tak, and jun-tae.
you were just about to peck his forhead, until you follow his gaze and flush a tiny bit - nothing compared to si-eun's face, which was buried into your sweater.
the three at the entrance break into a ginormous laugh (minus jun-tae who looks embarrassed to walk in on the two of you). baku and go-tak running to pry him away from you.
─ "si-eun! you never told us you had a special someone!"
─ "hey, wheres that grumpy look now, huh?!"
─ "yeah! why're you hiding her away, you rascal?!"
Summary: A high school girl fakes a relationship with the mysterious boy to survive school lifechaos, laughs, and drama ensue! Based on the manga Ookami Shoujo to Kuro Ouji.
A/N: I can't believe I'm updating after such a long time. I doubt anyone even remembers this fic, but here is part three 🧍🏻
PT.1 PT.2
A week had passed since Wooyoung had set that despicable trap for you.
You still felt a knot of bitterness in your stomach every time his figure appeared in the distance in the hallways; you simply looked away with a pang of disgust, ignoring his existence entirely.
Meanwhile, Seongje remained the same as always: irritating, childish, and an expert at getting on your nerves. He spent his time complaining to the air, with that drawling tone of voice that characterized him so much, about how boring classes were and the terrible quality of the school lunch.
"This shit is inedible. What is this supposed to be? Barely three pieces of meat?" Seongje grumbled, poking at the contents of his tray with his chopsticks in a gesture of total disdain before taking a bite.
"Why don't you bring lunch from home, then?" you retorted, enjoying your own food, which you had prepared with care the night before as part of your daily routine to avoid the cafeteria disaster.
"I don't have time to waste cooking," he answered brusquely. Out of nowhere, he reached his chopsticks toward your plate and, with infuriating agility, stole a couple of pieces of meat from you.
"Hey!" You gave him a firm stomp under the table, making him let out a muffled groan.
"Don't be a crybaby. We're supposed to be dating, right? It's normal to share food," he said, arching an eyebrow. He held your gaze with that glint of mockery in his eyes, reminding you with that side smirk that, even though you got along terribly, you had been the one to lie and he was just playing his part.
"If I had known you were such an idiot, I would have chosen any other guy for the photo," you replied, giving him a look loaded with irritation.
"Blah, blah, blah. Do you really think anyone else would have agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend?" He looked at you with one eyebrow raised and a cynical smile. "You're lucky that I’m so merciful and decided to help you."
"You idiot—"
You were interrupted by a boy walking with his head down, carrying a paper bag full of what looked like cell phones. The young man barely looked at Seongje for two seconds; a brief lapse, but charged with such raw hostility that it felt like he would pounce on him to kill him the third.
"Hey," Seongje let out. He got up from his seat and stood in front of the boy, who shuddered violently, visibly intimidated.
"Huh? is that your friend? Because I think you should take him to the nurse, Seongje. He looks really pale," you commented, watching them with intrigue.
"Of course I'll take him. Come, follow me," he said, forcefully grabbing the boy's shoulder. The boy let out a small groan of pain at the contact. Your eyebrows knitted together, confused; something was wrong. A heavy feeling settled in your stomach, a dark premonition that you couldn't decipher.
Seongje and the boy quickly disappeared from your sight. You looked at your lunch, now almost finished, in large part thanks to Seongje's constant stealing.
Suddenly, the sound of familiar footsteps pulled you from your thoughts. It was your friends.
"Y/N!" Seojin exclaimed, waving happily as Yujin came by her side. Both of them sat in front of you, dropping their trays onto the table with a crash.
"What are you doing here alone? I thought you said you were going to have lunch with your boyfriend," Yujin said, narrowing her eyes. "Or is it that... you broke up?" Her tone contained a surprise so poorly feigned that it bordered on open mockery.
"No, nothing like that," you hurried to answer, trying to maintain your composure. "He had to go take a friend to the infirmary."
"Ha, Geum Seongje? With friends? Do you mean the other delinquents?" Yujin looked at Seojin and they both let out a laugh. It was clear they were lying; the boy you saw just now was a thin guy, he looked too innocent to be a delinquent.
"You shouldn't be so cruel, I saw the boy a few minutes ago and he looked friendly," you responded with a feigned maturity, confident in what you had seen.
"You really have been deceived, haven't you?" Seojin said before taking a bite of food. "Go to the rooftop during Chemistry class and then tell me what you see."
Yujin elbowed Seojin as if what she had just said was the best joke in the world. But you didn't laugh at all; on the contrary, your expression now showed the clear concern you were feeling.
Chemistry class was next after lunch; you felt your mind collapsing from the many scenarios that could happen, or perhaps it was a dirty lie from your supposed friends and nothing actually happened at that time.
The sound of the bell cut through your thoughts; it was time to go back to class. Yujin and Seojin got up laughing, saying goodbye before heading off toward the classroom. You, on the other hand, stayed frozen. Your legs wouldn't respond, trapped in a dilemma that was consuming you: what was the right thing to do right now?
With an uncertainty that weighed on your chest, you put your lunch in your backpack. Perhaps the best thing was to go and check for yourself; to see with your own eyes so you could let go of that anxiety once and for all.
You went up to the rooftop, moving with as much caution as possible, conscious that it was forbidden for students to loiter in the hallways during class hours.
Upon arriving, silence greeted you. There was no one. The space was deserted, just a solitary chair in the middle and a pile of old furniture and trash that the school had thrown out.
Suddenly, the sound of the door being forced alerted you. Your heart skipped a beat. You looked for a hiding spot in a hurry, taking refuge behind a pile of stacked desks. Fortunately, one of them was broken, allowing you to observe the scene through a gap.
Your eyes opened wide. It was Seongje, along with two other guys.
"Hey, moron," Seongje's voice, icy and sharp, cut through the air. "I told you the quota was a hundred cell phones. There are only sixty-five here. Where the hell are the others?"
Seongje was looking at him with an expression you didn't recognize, devoid of any trace of humanity. In front of him, the boy was trembling, his legs on the verge of collapsing.
"I... I'm sorry... I couldn't get any more," he sobbed, his gaze fixed on the ground. "People are catching on, they take better care of their things now..."
Your heart was beating with uncontrollable violence. You felt like you were witnessing something you shouldn't see.
"And why the hell do I care?"
Seongje delivered a sharp blow to the boy's stomach. The boy writhed on the floor, letting out a groan of pure agony. You covered your mouth to stifle a scream; your hands wouldn't stop shaking anymore.
"You two," ordered Seongje, pointing at his companions. "Hold him."
The guys nodded and, without hesitation, lifted the boy by his arms. They held him suspended, forcing him to remain standing, even though his legs, defeated by fear and pain, refused to support him.
The air on the rooftop became thick, unbreathable. You tried to control your breathing, but every time Seongje's fist impacted the boy's body, a stifled sob escaped you.
Your hands, pressed against your mouth, tried to silence you, but your mind wouldn't stop repeating apologies to the boy receiving the beating. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you repeated in a mental loop, feeling like a coward, a useless spectator who just watched as they tore him apart. You wanted to come out, to yell at them to stop, but the terror had you anchored to the floor.
When the boy's body finally collapsed to the ground, Seongje let out a huff of disdain.
"If those remaining thirty-five aren't here by tomorrow, I'll beat you to death." Seongje turned around, walking with a calm that chilled your blood. After a few seconds that felt like hours, the metal door clicked shut, leaving the place in a sepulchral silence, barely broken by the boy's groans of pain.
You left your hiding spot with trembling legs. You approached him, helping him sit up with care. The boy, upon seeing you, opened his eyes in surprise, letting out a sigh of relief mixed with tears.
"Thank you... thank you," he stammered, trying to catch his breath. He looked at you with terror, as if he could still see Seongje behind you. "You shouldn't be here. That guy... is crazy."
You helped him sit against the wall, your mind barely processing what was coming out of his lips. He clutched his abdomen, gritting his teeth in pain.
"He forces me to steal. Everything is for the Union... Seongje answers directly to Baekjin; he controls everything that happens here."
The names hit you like a slap. The Union, Baekjin, Seongje. They were concepts you couldn't quite fit together, names that belonged to an underground world you had just discovered by accident. The information crowded your head, confusing you and fueling your panic.
The boy kept muttering about debts and hierarchies, but you could only think about how to escape.
Without saying much more, barely managing to pat his shoulder, you pulled away from his grip. You needed to leave. The weight of what you had just seen was too much. You ran down the stairs, left the school without looking back, and headed home, your pulse still racing and your head spinning.
Ahh so happy!! Love the shows u listed :D Could you possibly do 2000s dressed fem reader x si-eun just like a enemies to lover sorta thing ( so taken back from the super low rise jeans and tight sweaters , smut ) and/or fem reader x arisu where the reader is sharing wired headphones with him, and they realize really how much they like each other! [literally so sorry if that’s too much] Hope you have a fantastic week!! <33 Please and thank you ☺️
P.S UR WORK IS SOO AWESOME
Extra Credit — Yeon Si-eun, Weak Hero Class
summary: You and Si-eun became (academic) rivals. At a party he confronts you. Maybe you don’t hate each other that much.
tags: enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, creampie, kinda dom!si-eun, sub-reader
word count: 3,7k
A/N: this is in the first season but an alternative storyline. Si-eun is aged up to 18. i didnt know how to make them enemies otherwise so i chose to go the academic route, hope thats okay!
⸻
Yeon Si-eun.
That was the first name you learned when you transferred.
He was unusually cold to everyone. Didn’t speak unless spoken to. Not polite to be kind — just polite because it was expected.
He didn’t feel real. Too precise about everything he did.
You didn’t know when it started. Maybe when you first met.
You were assigned the seat next to him on your first day. You greeted him, but all you got was a low—almost annoyed—“Hello“. You frowned but didn’t think too much of it. Maybe he was just having a bad day? But the next day, and the one after that, he was exactly the same.
People told you he was like that with everyone, but somehow it still felt personal.
Or maybe it started when you were partnered up for a group project and he rewrote all your parts without asking. You asked him why.
He said they were missing everything they needed—not to the point, and overall just wrong. Or at best, unfinished.
You tried not to let it get to you. But you did.
You started noticing everything after that.
How he didn’t look at you when passing out worksheets.
How he sighed when he was paired with you.
How he always looked at you with that tired, bored expression in his eyes.
How he didn’t answer when you asked where you were in the lesson—or, when he did, muttered “I don’t know” without looking up, then solved the next problem seconds later.
How, when you had cleaning duty together, he always went over your spot again.
How, even though he was supposed to, he never gave you the full notes when you were sick — just bits and pieces — and you ended up getting a bad grade for something you didn’t even know you missed.
Speaking of grades:
You weren’t the best, but not the worst either.
You used to do enough. That was before him.
After him, you started studying harder.
Not for the grades. For the satisfaction.
You pulled an all-nighter before a math test and beat his score. Even got praised by the teacher.
You lived for the look he gave you when he found out. That slight twitch in his jaw. That moment of disbelief.
And then you did it again. And again.
Everything became a contest.
Who scored higher?
Who ran faster?
Who got more praise from the teachers?
A silent war between the two of you.
When you were forced to work together again, you redid his parts out of spite. Not because they were wrong. Just because.
Somewhere along the way—you didn’t know when—it stopped being about proving him wrong and started being about getting his attention.
You heard what people said when they thought you weren’t listening.
“You’d think they dated and broke up.”
“They act like exes who never kissed.”
You didn’t know how much it actually got to him—until later.
His grades were everything to him.
So being beaten—by you—was humiliation. The worst kind.
The breaking point came at the end-of-year ceremony.
The student with the best overall score was called to the front and honored with a certificate.
He was certain it was him. Knew the competition was close, but he still thought he’d won.
So when your name was called instead — not his — he froze. Stood up. And walked out.
People noticed. He didn’t try to make a scene but ended up doing it anyways. Inside, he was unraveling.
That was today.
Just a few hours ago.
⸻
You’re in your room, still buzzing from earlier. When you got home, your parents welcomed you like you were royalty. Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it—and honestly, you’re proud too.
Your friends invited you to a party, and you said yes without even thinking twice. Finally, you have some free time again. You never planned on being an A+ student with zero life outside school.
Now that the holidays are here, it’s time to actually use that freedom.
You sit cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a mess of makeup and clothes. Jina’s digging through your jewelry box, holding up chunky hoop earrings with a grin. Definitely a must-have.
You can finally wear real clothes again—not that stiff, boring uniform. Real clothes mean 2000s style, and you swear this is the best look out there.
You grab a pair of super low-rise jeans and a tight sweater.
“Ayy,” Mira says, nodding approvingly. “Definitely those.”
The three of you giggle like idiots. Clothes in hand, you head to the bathroom to change.
In the hallway, you stop in front of the big mirror.
You lean back and take it all in—the low-rise jeans hugging your hips, the sweater squeezing your curves, and butterfly clips sparkling in your hair. You don’t just want to look good tonight. You want to be unforgettable. To make heads turn.
When you walk back in, your friends erupt.
“Guys, don’t—don’t—” You pretend to protest but then strike a pose, closing your eyes to show off your look.
“Don’t stop,” you laugh, feeling a rush.
“You look absolutely delicious,” Jina says, rubbing her hands together like a maniac.
“You’re gonna break hearts tonight,” Mira adds with a smirk.
“I’m just so glad I finally have time to do that again.”
“Right? I wasn’t expecting you to turn into a total nerd with no social life.”
“Yeah, that Si-eun really did a number on you.”
“Oh, stop, Mira.” You roll your eyes jokingly. If you think more about him, you swear you could explode. But today was—is a victory.
————
The party’s already loud by the time you get there.
It’s at some girl’s house—big enough to fit a crowd, but not enough to make it feel less claustrophobic. Music thumps through the floorboards. The bass hits your chest like a second heartbeat. Lights flicker in blue and pink. Someone’s already spilled beer on the hallway rug.
You step inside with your friends, shoulder to shoulder at first, but Mira and Jina quickly scatter toward snacks and boys. That’s fine. You’re not here for chips and flirting.
You make your way into the main room, cup in hand, pretending to be just another party girl out for fun.
You definitely attract looks. Some even come to you. But no one is really your type.
You are talking with a girl you just met in the corner. Your thoughts drift back to that moment Si-eun stormed out of the ceremony room.
You haven’t seen him since the ceremony. Since you were the one called up. Since he stood and walked out like the world had just betrayed him.
You told yourself you didn’t care.
But you did.
You catch your reflection in the dark glass of the balcony door—glossed lips, low-rise jeans, tight sweater clinging just right.
You raise your cup, take a sip, and lean against the wall like you own the room.
Then the door opens.
And just like that—
You feel him before you see him.
You are startled. He isn't the type to go to parties.
“Hey, are you fine?" The girl you were just talking to asked. Searching for what you were looking at.
"Oh, is that your ex? I get it, but don't be afraid you look bomb. He's gonna see what he's missing.” You turn to her.
“No—He's not—no.” You protest, but she gives you a knowing look.
You wave the girl off with a forced laugh, turning back toward the crowd—but you can’t help it. You look again.
He’s there.
Si-eun stands near the entrance, eyes scanning the room like he’s trying to decide whether he should’ve come at all. He’s not dressed for a party—dark hoodie, clean sneakers, the same bored expression he wears in class—but somehow, he still looks like the most important person in the room.
His gaze passes right over you at first. And then it stops.
Lands. Holds.
Your stomach tightens.
He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t nod. Just looks.
And then—like nothing happened—he breaks eye contact and walks away.
You exhale, only then realizing you were holding your breath.
“Definitely your ex,” the girl says under her breath, sipping her drink.
“He’s not,” you murmur, but it’s too quiet to convince anyone.
You take a long sip from your cup, ignoring the way your hand shakes just slightly.
Your eyes track him across the room. The way people naturally give him space. The way he doesn’t seem interested in talking to anyone, like this party is just something he’s enduring. Like he’s here for something, not just to hang out.
Or maybe someone.
You turn your back to him, pretending to listen as the girl tells you a story you’re not really hearing. You nod at the right times, give polite laughs—but your attention’s somewhere else. Heat rises in your neck.
Si-eun is only here, because he was forced to. Su-ho didn't give him the option to not go. He said he should just relax, get his mind off school. Off the… incident.
When he sees you, his heart is beating. With rage—he thinks. He looks you up and down, notices how slutty you're dressed. He tries to seem unfazed, as always. But as soon as he turns around, Su-ho notices something wrong.
Then he sees you too. He sighs.
“Si-eun, don't waste a single thought on her today. Just enjoy it. C’mon, let's get you a drink.” He drags him to the kitchen, where they then fill some drinks into their cups and go somewhere where you're not.
————
You gave up on thinking about Si-eun maybe one and a half hours ago. You haven't seen him since he entered.
So it does surprise you when he's suddenly behind you. You almost spill a drink on him. He just yanks your hand and pulls you with him.
“What are—Hey—you doing?!” You ask loudly. Shocked.
“We need to talk.”
“No, we definitely don't!" He just pulls you up the stairs into a quiet room. Not really quiet, but it is empty, except for a cupboard and a bed. A guest bedroom. The music is muffled.
“Hey, what the fuck was that?” You ask, finally yanking your hand from his grip.
He turns to you, jaw tight, eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them.
“What was that?” You repeat, louder this time. “You can’t just drag people around like that!”
“Why do you hate me so much?” he asks, voice low but firm.
You're thrown off. “What?” You ask Perplexed.
“You heard.” Only now you notice how drunk he is. It is obvious now that you know. He is not stable in his stance, he wanks from right to left. Slurs his words.
“Okay, I am not doing this. You’re drunk as fuck.” You turn around to open the door, but he slams a hand on it.
You flinch. Not because you’re scared, but because of how close he suddenly is.
“What are you—? Let me out!” You snap, pushing at his arm.
But he doesn’t move.
He’s leaning close now, jaw clenched, eyes unfocused but still locked on you like he’s trying to figure you out. Trying to demand something from you that even he can’t name.
“No,” he says. “Not until you tell me why.”
“Why what?” You shoot back.
“Why you look at me like that,” he says, voice low, heavy, like the words cost him something. “Why you do what you do.”
You're quiet.
“You serious?” You scoff. “You started this! I should be asking you.”
“What?” He laughs out of disbelief.
“Don’t act so clueless! You're so arrogant, God. You ignored me every time I tried talking to you, ask something. Send me unfinished notes, which I then get bad grades because of. Just cancel all my work and do it yourself. And this look on your face—it pisses me off so much! I’m just mirroring you.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Do I look like I am?”
“You’re unbelievable!” he says angrily. Loud.
Your hand is still on the doorknob, but you don’t turn it.
“Oh, I’m unbelievable? You’ve been an asshole to me since the day I got here!”
“No, I wasn’t? I just didn't know how to act around you!”
“Well, definitely not like this!”
“I didn't want this! I never wanted you to hate me!”
“I also didn't want this if you think so!”
You’re both shouting now. Face-to-face. No space. Breathing the same air.
“God, you're so—…” He begins but trails off.
He stares at you, eyes burning with something you don’t know how to name. His chest rises and falls like he’s just run a mile. You feel your pulse in your ears, in your throat, everywhere.
He looks at you, at your eyes, and then your lips.
“I hate this,” he breathes.
“Good,” you say. “So do I.”
You don’t know who moves first.
Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s him.
But then his mouth is on yours, and it’s not gentle.
It’s messy. Angry. Clumsy. Teeth clash. Your back hits the door with a thud. His hands are in your hair, your jaw, your waist, like he can’t decide where to touch first. You pull him closer, fingers tugging on the strings of his hoodie, and he groans into your mouth like he’s needed this for longer than he can admit.
You gasp when he bites your lip—and then he pulls back, just a little, breathing hard.
“You drive me insane,” he says, forehead pressed to yours.
“You think you’re easy to deal with?” You shoot back, just as breathless.
His hands slip under your sweater. Warm skin against warm skin. Fingers skating up your ribs like a threat.
“This is a bad idea,” you say, but you’re not moving away.
He nods. “Terrible.”
And then his lips are on yours again. This time deeper. Slower. Like the fight cracked something open. Like he wants to devour you. Memorize you.
“You wore this on purpose? Mh?” Si-eun mutters lowly against your lip. He moves to your ear and whispers.
“So slutty…” His breath hitting your earlobe. You moan when he places kisses on your neck.
You couldn't answer, too busy whimpering. Si-eun looks down, seeing your thighs press together.
“Are you horny? Did this turn you on?” He asks, amused.
What? You didn't even notice.
“Fuck you…” you try to say, but it comes out as barely louder as a whisper—more a whimper.
He laughs.
“Yeah? Want me to stop? Pretty sure you kissed me back.” His mouth is back on your neck, and you can feel he's smirking, but it slides lower to your collarbone. He licks, kisses, sucks at it. While his hands move up to your breasts.
“Si-eun…” You breathe out.
“Stop me if you don't want this.”
You don't.
You let him touch you. You let him kiss you.
One of his hands is at your ass now, squeezing it inside the low-rise jeans. He presses against you and buries his head in the crook of your neck while whisper-moaning your name.
You could feel how hard he is.
The muffled music from outside is a background noise now.
“As soon as I saw you, I knew. These low jeans. This tight fucking sweater.“ He kissed your neck, now only mumbling.
“I knew you’d make me this hard. You do, even in that uniform…” He rubs himself against you.
Then he leans back, searching for any discomfort in your face. There is none. Only flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes staring at him.
A short pause.
Then—you both launch at each other, aggressively kissing again, while your hands roam his body and his roam yours. You reach behind you and turn the doorknob, lock the door, and push him towards the bed.
You reach for the hem of his hoodie, desperately pulling it over his head, then—your sweater. He slides it off you in one fast, desperate motion.
You kiss again as soon as you're both free. Next your hand goes to his belt, trying to undo it. He helps, smiling into the kiss. Then he reaches for your jeans. Takes them off too.
You push him on the bed, climbing on top of him. His touch burns. He yanks you down harder against his lap, grinding you onto the stiff outline of his cock through his boxers. You gasp, nails digging into his neck, the kiss turning filthy—all tongue and teeth and desperation.
His hands skim up your back, deft fingers unhooking your bra like he’s done it a hundred times before. You shudder when the fabric falls away, his palms sliding around to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples in slow, deliberate circles. Your hips jerk against him instinctively, chasing the friction.
“Fuck,” he growls, breaking the kiss to pull back shortly to take in the sight of you before dragging his mouth down your throat. He bites at your collarbone, then lower, his tongue flicking a nipple before sucking it deep. You whimper, arching into him, one hand fisting in his hair.
Then his lips vanish. You make a noise of protest—cut off when he flips you over. Now you're under him.
His mouth is fast on your body again. Trailing kisses down your stomach while his hand tugs at the waistband of your panties.
He briefly looks at you, then pulls your panties off in one motion. His hands press down on your legs and spread them. He moves back up and leans in to place kisses on your lips again. While his fingers glide through your wetness, testing, teasing.
You moan into the kiss. He pulls back to see your face.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, leaning back down, lips brushing your ear. “Soaked for me.”
You barely have time to process the words before two fingers sink into you, curling just right. Your thighs tremble, a moan ripping from your throat. You try to close your legs instinctively, only to be blocked by him between your legs. He works you ruthlessly, his gaze locked on your face.
His mouth is on your breast now. Sucking it. His tongue circles around the nipple, which only makes you weaker.
You arch into him, back lifting off the bed, into him.
He works you up perfectly, and just as you think you're close, his fingers vanish and he kisses you again. It's grounding, a motion that slows you down. Deep, passionate.
You reach down to his boxers, palming him through it. He whimpers into the kiss.
When you break the kiss, your hands are at his shoulders, slightly pushing them. He understands what you want without you having to say anything.
You push him onto his back and slide down his body, fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers. He lifts his hips to help, exhaling sharply as you peel the fabric away, his cock springing free—hard, flushed, already glistening at the tip.
You lower your head, and your tongue darts out, flicking over the bead of precum, then swirling around the tip.
He hisses, watching you. Then you take him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch. His groan is ragged, hands fisting the sheets. You work him with deliberate strokes, hollowing your cheeks as you pull back, then sinking deep again, savoring the way his thighs tense under your palms.
“Shit—” His voice cracks when you swirl your tongue around the head again, teasing the slit before swallowing him down once more. You glance up, meeting his darkened gaze as you cup his balls.
His stomach muscles clench, his hips twitching like he’s fighting not to thrust. You let him slide from your lips with a wet pop, crawling back up his body. He catches your mouth in a searing kiss, tasting himself on your tongue as his hands grip your waist, pressing you down on his hips.
“Ride me,” he rasps, bucking up against you.
You don’t hesitate, you stretched this long enough—sinking onto him in a halting motion, both of you gasping at the stretch. His hands roam your body, skimming your ribs, thumbs brushing your nipples as you start to move.
Slow at first, grinding down, taking him impossibly deep. He grips your hips, helping you find the rhythm—up, then down, a slow, maddening drag that has you both panting.
His fingers dig into your skin as you clench around him, your own hands braced on his chest, nails scraping lightly.
“Fuck, just like that,” he grits out, eyes locked on where your bodies join. You lean forward, sealing your mouth to his, swallowing his groan as the pace turns desperate—not faster, but deeper, harder.
“Si-eun—“ cut off by a gasp and a slow moan.
“Still hate me?” He asks, voice wrecked.
You answer with another moan of his name and a harsh fall down his cock. Your hand reaches down to circle around your clit, working yourself closer, while your lips meet his again.
He breaks the kiss. “You don’t know how many times I thought about this—ahh fuck—“ he thrusts his hips into you involuntarily. You know, he's close.
You're too.
“Fuck—you’re squeezing me.” His abs clench again. Almost there.
It hits you like a wave. This overwhelming sensation. The tingling is more intense than what you ever experienced before, it reached its way all the way to your heart. You shudder, leaning down on him as your whole body throbbed. Every part of you that was touching him burned.
He feels it too as he follows with one last thrust as he buries himself inside you.
You plop down beside him, both of you panting.
After you two regain the ability to breathe—and think properly—the silence hangs in the air. The silence of the tiny confessions both of you just made, with words and—well the sheer fact that you just fucked the person you swore you would murder if he came closer than arm's length to you.
“So… that just happened.” He speaks first.
“Yeah…”
Another moment of silence.
“Let's stop this… rivalry.” He suggested.
“Deal.” Another pause.
“I never even really hated you, to be honest.”
You push yourself up, turning to look at him. Then lay your head on his chest.
“I’m sorry I was such an asshole.” You whisper, taken aback by his confession.
“Yeah, me too.”
⸻
Okay— i have no idea if this is what you had in mind when you requested this, let me know how you like it! This has been laying in my drafts for well over 3 days now i just struggled with the smut, but other then that it was really fun, thank you so much for the request 🫶
I did have an amazing week and I hope you had— and have too! Thank you so much, i really appreciate that you enjoy my work. <3
Btw I am also gonna do the arisu one (first fluff kinda nervous—if you want to be fluff of course)
+ to everyone i am not sure abt the name. “extra credit” is honestly just a place holder, if you have suggestions please lmk
If you liked this, you may like my other stuff too!
