Do you write for Study Group? I’m interested in how you would write for Yandere!Si-eun x Reader x Yandere!Ga-min. If you don’t, then you can just do Yandere!Si-eun. Thanks!
accidental
yandere! yeon sieun x fem! reader | weak hero class 1 ★
pairing: yandere! yeon sieun x fem! reader
wc: 6.6k
genre: dark romance, strangers to lovers
warnings: stalking, obsession, possessiveness, sexual harassment (not by sieun), bullying, canon violence, suggestive, usage of y/n, intended lowercase
⤷ disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction and the themes here shouldn’t be romanticized. please read at your own risk. minors dni.
summary: you met sieun by accident — ordinary, unremarkable. but the “accidents” kept happening, piling up, and you never realized it was him orchestrating them all, loving you so fiercely it was meant to scare you… and yet it didn’t.
author’s note: i haven’t watched study group yet unfortunately but it’s on my watch list! also ;; i’m gonna be honest writing this story was kind of difficult for me, since i couldn’t really picture sieun being the “classic” yandere, however it’s true that in s2 he was willing to kill when it came to suho, so my writing is coming from how protective sieun was over suho by the end of s1 (he did mess up wooyoung bad lmao) and all throughout s2 a lot. hope i managed to capture his personality well! ♡ likes, comments and reblogs are super appreciated .ᐟ
ps: there’s also a moment that references this chainsaw man scene haha
you and sieun met for the first time completely by accident.
he was on the bus on his way to cram school, sitting quietly in his seat, gaze fixed on the window, shutting out the world around him. he ignored how packed the bus was, bodies pressed together, footsteps shuffling, voices blending into noise. in his seat, tucked away from the chaos, he was comfortable.
then the bus jerked to a sudden, rough stop.
and someone fell into his lap with a tiny, high-pitched squeak.
you.
before you even realized what happened, you were practically nose-to-nose with sieun, breath brushing his cheek. you froze, eyes wide, then scrambled up so fast you nearly tripped again.
“i— i’m so sorry!” you blurted out, flustered beyond belief “the bus stopped too fast, i should’ve held on tighter— i’m really sorry—”
normally, sieun would’ve been irritated. he didn’t like being touched, noticed, or talked to. if it were anyone else, he would’ve just nodded once and gone right back to the window.
but you…
you caught his attention.
not that he’d admit it.
“it’s okay,” he said, standing up abruptly “you can sit.”
he didn’t know why he offered. he just acted instinctively. something about you made it feel natural.
you blinked up at him, cheeks warm, and sat down shyly. he moved to stand beside your seat, his posture almost… protective, shielding you from the crowd pressing in from all sides.
“everyone alright?” the bus driver called out. a few mumbled responses followed, and the bus rolled forward again.
but sieun wasn’t thinking about the bus anymore.
he was thinking about you.
you sat stiffly, clutching the straps of your worn-out bag, the straps fraying, the fabric faded, decorated with cute pins of characters he didn’t recognize. your school uniform was from a nearby girls’ school, not a fancy one. your lip gloss caught the light when you bit your lip anxiously.
you looked uncomfortable in the crowd.
you looked small.
you looked… cute.
cute?
his eyes widened slightly, and he snapped his gaze forward, stare locking onto nothing.
that was…
weird.
he didn’t think things like that. he didn’t feel things like that. not for strangers.
yet his heart beat just a bit faster.
and for the first time in a very long time, yeon sieun found himself disturbed — not by you falling into his lap… but by the unfamiliar warmth curling in his chest when he looked at you.
the second time you and sieun met was also an accident.
suho had dragged sieun and beomseok out to some restaurant that he swore had “the best fried chicken in the whole world.”
sieun wasn’t thrilled. he’d much rather be studying, but no one could ever win against ahn suho’s relentless enthusiasm, so here he was.
the moment they stepped inside, though, sieun froze.
you were there.
sitting at a table packed with people your age — girls in the same school uniform as you, and a few guys who looked… wrong. loud, obnoxious, grinning like they owned the room.
and you, sitting on the edge of the cushioned bench, gripping the hem of your skirt so tightly your knuckles were white.
you didn’t fit in with them.
not even a little.
then one of the guys slung an arm over your shoulders. you jolted, the exact same startled look from the bus flickering across your face.
“y/n!” he cooed, way too familiar.
y/n… so that was your name.
“let’s make a deal,” the guy said, leaning in close to your ear with a sleazy smirk “if you kiss me, you don’t have to pay for our meal today. if you don’t, you’re covering for the rest of the school year. so? what do you say?”
immediately you tried to pull away, but the girl across from you grabbed your wrists, holding you still. one of the girls lifted her phone to film this whole ordeal, another snorted something about how kissing you would probably be “gross.”
and sieun… sieun saw red.
before suho could even ask what was wrong, sieun was already moving — cutting through tables, chairs, startled waitresses — eyes locked on you.
“leave her alone” he said, voice cold and flat.
the guy laughed “and who the hell are you? hey, y/n, you know this dude? did you get yourself a boyfriend behind our backs?”
your eyes met sieun’s.
confused.
scared.
but there was hope too — tiny, trembling, impossible to miss.
and something inside him snapped.
sieun grabbed the nearest fork off the table, and without hesitation — without even blinking — he drove it straight through the guy’s hand where it rested on the wooden table.
the scream tore through the restaurant.
beomseok gasped. suho shouted “sieun!” and ran towards him, but it was too late —the damage was already done.
“okay— okay, that’s enough, sieun” suho said and sieun looked at him for half a second, calm as ever.
then he turned back to you.
he extended his hand gently, almost carefully, like the violence from two seconds earlier belonged to a different person entirely.
you didn’t look back at your “friends.”
you didn’t look at the chaos unfolding behind you.
you just took his hand.
your fingers slid into his like instinct, like relief, like escape.
and the moment you stood, he stepped slightly in front of you, shielding you from the shocked stares as suho and beomseok hurried the four of you out the door and away from the mess.
you ran away few blocks away from the restaurant and as you hid in some alleyway, suho immediately exploded.
“sieun, what the hell was that? you can’t just stab someone in public! again! first pens, now forks? are you serious?”
beomseok hovered awkwardly beside him.
but sieun…
sieun didn’t respond.
he wasn’t even listening.
his eyes were fixed on you — the way your shoulders shook, the small tremble in your hands as you held your bag against your chest, trying to make yourself smaller.
he stepped a little closer, carefully, like he was approaching an injured animal.
“are you hurt?” he asked, voice strangely gentle.
you shook your head quickly “n-no… i’m okay. i just—” your voice cracked, and you looked down, embarrassed.
“thank you. for earlier,” you whispered “i… i didn’t know what to do. i’m so tired of them. every day it’s something. and i—”
your words broke off, swallowed by your attempt not to cry.
beomseok looked at you then — really looked — and something sad flickered in his eyes.
he knew that exhaustion. that quiet desperation.
“we get it,” he said softly “people can be… cruel.”
sieun’s gaze sharpened at that, but not in anger — in recognition.
he understood too.
“you don’t deserve that” beomseok said simply.
the four of you stood there in the cold, something heavy and unspoken settling between you.
then suho clapped his hands loudly, trying to shake the mood off.
“okay! emotional moment over! i’m still starving, and we risked getting banned from that place so someone owes me chicken.”
he turned to you with a bright grin.
“come with us! we’ll treat you. right guys?”
beomseok nodded politely. sieun didn’t move, but his eyes flicked to you — unreadable, but waiting.
you smiled, timid and grateful.
“you’ve already done more than enough for me. really. i… i should just go home now.”
suho deflated dramatically.
“aww, c’mon, it’s just chicken—”
but sieun spoke before he could finish.
“i’ll walk you” he said.
no hesitation. no question. just certainty.
you stiffened, cheeks warming.
“o-oh… you don’t have to—”
“i want to” he said plainly.
and something in your chest unraveled just a little.
suho caught the way sieun’s eyes flickered the second you nodded. he didn’t miss a thing. immediately, he slung an arm around beomseok’s shoulders, grinning like he knew a secret he wasn’t supposed to know.
“okay, enjoy yourselves, me and beomseok are going to eat” he sing-songed, even throwing in a very obvious wink.
sieun rolled his eyes so hard it was almost impressive, but he didn’t bother arguing. he just turned towards you, quiet as ever.
the walk to your neighborhood was… silent. comfortable, somehow. sieun wasn’t the type to fill the air with pointless words anyway. he didn’t need to.
instead, he watched.
the way you kept your head slightly lowered when you walked, like you didn’t want to take up too much space.
the way you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear every time the wind messed it up.
the way your shoes scuffed slightly with each step, like you were trying to walk softly even on concrete.
little things. small things. things he shouldn’t care about.
but they all did something to him — something he couldn’t name without feeling ridiculous.
“so this is my neighborhood” you said suddenly, stopping at a quiet street. he blinked, realizing just how far the two of you had wandered. he hadn’t even noticed.
immediately his eyes swept the area — the narrow sidewalk, the flickering streetlight on the corner. he took it all in, mapping it in his head without even thinking about it.
then he looked back at you.
“thank you once again,” you said softly “it was… sieun, right? what you did means a lot to me.”
you smiled — small, shy, the kind you probably didn’t show often.
and his heart did that weird thing again. that uncomfortable skip, like it was reacting before he could.
“it was nothing” he said, voice even.
then, after a beat “can i… get your number?”
your breath caught “m-my number?”
“so you can text me when you get home safe” he added, so casually and plainly that you almost believed that was all it was. almost.
“oh. yeah, sure.”
you typed your number into his phone, your fingers just barely brushing his. he didn’t move.
when you handed the phone back, he sent you a quick text, so that you had his number as well, and tucked the phone into his pocket with a quiet, firm nod.
“goodnight” you said, taking a small step back.
“text me” he replied.
not a request — a certainty.
you didn’t even question it.
you waved once and then disappeared, heading towards your apartment building.
and sieun stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot you’d just been at — heart still doing that strange, unwelcome flutter.
the third time you and sieun met… it wasn’t an accident anymore.
he planned it. every second of it.
he was supposed to be studying — a video of his mom explaining math formulas playing on his laptop — but his eyes kept drifting, unfocused. every time he blinked, he saw you sitting in that restaurant booth, trembling under those filthy hands. he heard your voice, small and tired, telling him you were “so done” with the bullies.
and tomorrow… you were going back there.
without him.
he paused the video. his leg bounced. then, before he could talk himself out of it, he typed the name of your school into the search bar.
not because he wanted to be a creep.
no. he told himself that over and over.
he just… needed to make sure you were safe. that was all.
so the next day, after his classes ended, he walked straight to your school and positioned himself near the gate — close enough to see you, far enough not to look like he was waiting for you.
he knelt down on the sidewalk, pretending to tie his shoelaces. he even rehearsed a sentence in his head “there’s a bus that goes to my cram school nearby, i stopped for a second.”
normal. casual. reasonable.
he stayed like that for minutes, hands hovering near his shoes, waiting.
until—
“sieun?”
your voice. right behind him.
he tightened his grip on the laces so he wouldn’t immediately turn around and stare at you like he wanted to. then he glanced back, perfectly composed.
“oh. hi.” he said, as if it really was nothing.
but then he stood — and the moment he did, he noticed it.
your uniform. ripped right at the shoulder. the ribbon on your uniform barely holding up too, threads hanging, fabric stretched.
his expression didn’t change much. but something in his eyes… froze.
“what happened?”
you immediately looked away when he asked, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag.
“it’s nothing,” you mumbled, trying to sound light “just… clumsy me, i guess.”
sieun didn’t buy that for even half a second.
his eyes sharpened “was it the girls?”
you froze.
that was all the answer he needed.
his jaw clenched — so quietly, so subtly — but the change in him was unmistakable. something cold and dangerous slid behind his eyes, the same thing suho always warned people about.
“should i take care of it?” he asked, voice still calm, but with a certain edge “just tell me if they touched you.”
your breath hitched.
before he could take a step towards the school gate, you reached out on instinct — your hands catching his.
his entire body jolted like you’d shocked him.
he looked down at your fingers wrapped around his, pink dust spreading across his cheekbones so fast he didn’t even have time to hide it.
“n-no,” you whispered, holding on a little tighter “please don’t do anything. i just… i just wanna go home.”
sieun swallowed, hard.
for a moment he didn’t move at all — like your touch pinned him to the earth.
then he sighed, shoulders lowering a fraction.
“…fine.”
he wasn’t happy about it, but he’d listen if you asked.
you started walking together, silence settling softly between you. after a minute, you glanced at him.
“but… what were you even doing at my school anyways?” you asked, confused.
“ah.” he looked forward again, slipping into his practiced excuse “there’s a bus stop nearby. i was just on my way to cram school.”
you laughed a little “really? that’s kinda funny. we keep running into each other everywhere. like it’s fate or something.”
you smiled up at him, warm and innocent.
you had no idea.
no idea that he had searched your school last night.
no idea that he had stood here for ten whole minutes pretending to tie shoes that were already tied.
no idea how tightly he was gripping the sleeve of his bag to stop himself from reaching for your hand again.
“yeah,” sieun murmured, eyes softening as he watched you “fate.”
only he knew it wasn’t.
only he knew he’d make sure it kept happening.
and as he promised — or rather, as he calculated — the “accidental” meetings kept piling up.
at first they felt strange.
then suspicious.
then almost… familiar.
but to you, they seemed like coincidences.
to him, they were perfectly timed steps in a plan he’d never admit he was making.
your next encounter was at a local library.
you came there after school, hugging your books, looking for a quiet corner to study.
the moment you turned into the reading room, you froze.
sieun was already there. hunched over a thick textbook, earphones in, body perfectly still.
you hesitated before walking in — he looked so focused, so intensely absorbed, you didn’t want to disturb him.
but somehow, without lifting his head, he said to you “you’re blocking the light.”
your heart jumped.
“o-oh! sorry—”
you scurried to a corner table, cheeks warm.
he didn’t look at you, not even once.
but every few minutes, he slightly shifted.
just enough to keep you in the corner of his vision.
as you packed your things later, he rose too.
at the same time.
almost like he had been waiting.
and offered to walk you home.
you went there again three days later, this time to a different floor, hoping for quiet.
he found you anyway.
you stood on your toes, reaching for a book on the top shelf when another hand brushed the spine.
you startled.
“ah—!”
“you’ll fall” he said, grabbing the book effortlessly and handing it to you.
your fingers brushed his.
you yanked your hand back, flustered.
“t-thanks…”
he stared down at you, expression unreadable “why do you keep coming here alone?”
“i… dunno. i like it. it’s peaceful.”
he exhaled once through his nose — not annoyance, not quite — something tense and restrained.
“be careful,” he said “some people are watching.”
you thought he meant the store’s customers.
you didn’t know he meant himself watching everyone around you.
then one late evening two weeks later your cram school ended and you ducked into the nearest convenience store craving something sweet.
you opened the fridge door — and nearly screamed.
he was standing on the other side, staring right at you.
“sieun?!” you clutched your chest.
he didn’t flinch.
“you’re loud.”
your ears burned with embarrassment “s-sorry…”
without looking away, he reached into the fridge and held out your favorite drink.
you blinked at it, stunned.
“it’s on sale. here.” he said flatly.
“oh… thank you” you murmured.
he paid for his things and left without a goodbye, but when you stepped outside, he was still there, leaning against the wall, pretending to check his phone, eyes flicking towards you the moment you passed.
you had no idea that this store was completely out of his way and he came there just for one reason — for you.
next encounter happened the same week. rain poured like the sky was collapsing.
you ran to the stop, completely soaked, hugging your backpack to your chest.
and then—
“you’re wet” he said simply.
you gasped when you saw him standing there, umbrella tilted toward you without explanation.
“w-what are you doing here?”
“waiting.”
“for… the bus?”
he didn’t answer.
instead, he stepped closer until the umbrella covered you fully — and left himself getting drenched.
“you’ll get sick…” you whispered.
“i won’t” he said “but you will.”
your heart thudded strangely.
the bus came.
you both got on.
he took the seat beside you without asking.
and behind all these “coincidences,” his thoughts only got sharper. darker. firmer.
he studied you whole — your routine, your habits, your favorite places, your weak points, your fears, the people who bothered you, the ones he already wanted gone.
he learned everything.
not because he meant harm.
but because something inside him had already decided that you were his to protect.
which is why, when you giggled one afternoon and said “would you ever wanna actually hang out? since we keep running into each other like this constantly…”
he nodded casually, like it was nothing “sure.”
but inside?
inside he was already planning where, when, how, and what would happen next.
because fate had nothing to do with it.
he had been making sure you crossed paths with him every single time.
the hangout plan was simple — grab some refreshing drinks at a food truck and then take a walk through the little park you said you loved.
the one with the flowers that bloomed even when everything else felt cold.
you told him it was your “comfort place,” somewhere you liked to clear your mind.
but sieun already knew that.
he’d known long before you mentioned it.
so when the school day ended, he headed straight there and ended up arriving way earlier than he’d planned.
the path was quiet, flowers swaying gently in the breeze, petals catching the fading light.
he glanced at his watch. thirty minutes too soon, but that was fine. he liked being early — better to wait than to be late.
then his phone buzzed.
from you.
y/n: sorry sieun, i can’t make it. something came up.
he froze.
the text wasn’t anything alarming on its own, except… it was from you.
you almost never texted.
ever.
his stomach dropped. something was off.
the phrasing, the tone — too clipped. too careful.
and with the way he knew you? that meant something bad was happening.
he scanned the park, eyes sharp. empty benches, children’s laughter in the distance, joggers passing by. no sign of you.
he moved faster, retracing steps he had memorized like a map from the previous days — the library, the café, the bus stop, even the hidden corners he knew you liked to sit in when no one else was around.
his hands balled into fists, jaw tight. every second without you felt like a lifetime.
finally, he made his way back to your neighborhood.
the streets were quiet. the sun was dipping below the horizon, and the shadows of the buildings stretched long.
and there you were.
your shoulders slumped, backpack hanging heavily on your back.
your hair was messy from the wind, eyes barely able to stay open.
he noticed the faint redness on your neck — a hickey — half-hidden by your collar.
“y/n…” his voice was low, dangerous, full of worry.
he immediately rushed to your side, hands gripping your arms lightly to steady you.
“what happened? are you okay? tell me— i need to know you’re okay.”
you blinked up at him, exhausted, ashamed, but also… relieved to see him.
he didn’t let go.
not now.
not ever.
even in the dim light, with your body trembling from exhaustion, he could see it all. and his chest ached.
as he held your arms, you let yourself fold into him, your forehead resting lightly against his shoulder.
he wasn’t warm — not exactly — but he was steady, and right now that was all you needed.
his hand hovered awkwardly for a second before settling on your back, stiff at first, then tightening as if he couldn’t help himself.
after a few long, quiet minutes, your voice came out small “sorry for not showing up, sieun… would you like to go to my place instead…?”
he froze.
you could feel him gulp, his breath catching.
then a quiet, controlled nod.
you led him through the dim streets to your apartment — no lights on, no shoes by the door, just silence.
and sieun felt something in his chest twist sharply.
just like me… always coming back to an empty home.
we’re the same.
“do you want tea, or—”
“who did it, y/n?”
the words cut through the room like a knife. cold. immediate. no hesitation.
his eyes didn’t move from the mark on your neck, the faint bruise that stood out against your skin like an offense carved into you.
you gave a weak, tired smile “remember the guys from the fried chicken place? yeah. do i… need to say more?” you laughed, but it was hollow, broken at the edges.
and when you tried to brush it off—
“but they didn’t go any further than this, don’t worry. it… could be worse.”
—something in him snapped.
his jaw clenched so tightly it almost shook.
his hands curled into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening.
you saw only a worried boy standing in your kitchen.
but on the inside there was a storm unfolding inside him.
they touched you.
they dared to put their hands on your skin.
they thought they could leave a mark on something that isn’t theirs.
you came home shaking and drained and they laughed about it, probably, while you walked alone.
i should’ve been there.
i should never have let you go by yourself.
you shouldn’t have to deal with this at all — if you were with me, if you stayed by me, no one would dare.
his breathing grew quieter, deeper.
he stepped towards you.
“y/n,” he said softly, but the softness didn’t reach his eyes “tell me their names.”
you shook your head immediately, but he didn’t look away.
he just stood there, expression unreadable, gaze burning.
if you won’t tell me, i’ll find out myself.
i already know where they work.
i’ve already watched them once. it won’t be hard.
he reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear, gentle and careful, yet his fingers trembled, as if trying to restrain something much darker inside him.
“this won’t happen again” he murmured.
a promise, a threat — both.
“not to you.”
you exhaled shakily, and for a moment he just stared at you — really stared.
like he was memorizing every flicker of your expression, every tiny movement of your beautiful lips, every bruise on your skin that did not belong there.
by now, sieun couldn’t wake up without thinking about you.
couldn’t walk home without checking the streets you took.
couldn’t study without imagining you sitting beside him.
you had slipped into his world slowly, completely by accident, until there was no part of his life left untouched by you.
you didn’t know it, but he had rearranged entire days around your safety. your comfort. your smile.
and the thought of someone hurting you again made something cold twist violently inside him.
“don’t come to school tomorrow,” he said, voice flat, steady — the way it always got when he had already made up his mind “stay home. i’m gonna take care of your bullying problem.”
he turned, already planning, already calculating, already ready to walk out your door and ruin anyone who dared lay a hand on you.
but your breath hitched, and your fingers gently curled around his.
just that tiny touch froze him in place.
just you.
“be… careful… please.”
his eyes flicked down to where your hand held his.
so small.
so trusting.
so warm.
for a second, something in him cracked open — a terrifying tenderness he wasn’t used to feeling.
“i will” he said quietly.
because for you, he’d be careful.
for you, he’d be ruthless.
for you, he’d burn the whole world if he had to.
the next day, sieun skipped school.
it was so unlike him that suho and beomseok both spammed his phone, the notifications lighting up his pocket over and over — but he ignored every single one.
he never put anyone before his studies.
never.
until you.
he walked straight to your school, expression blank, steps precise.
he had already memorized the building’s layout last night, piecing it together from every photo, every mention you’d ever made, every scrap of information he could dig up.
and when he finally found the classroom the girls were in, he didn’t knock. he just opened the door and walked in.
the room went still.
“uh— who are you?” one girl scoffed, adjusting her lip gloss.
another one whispered that he looked creepy.
someone else laughed nervously, pointing out that he’s that weird guy from the fried chicken place.
sieun didn’t react.
he just stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the room one by one… cold. calculating.
finally, his gaze landed on the main girl — the one whose nail marks he had notice on your wrist that day, when she was trying to hold you in place, when that disgusting guy was touching you.
she froze.
sieun took a slow step towards her desk.
just one.
and somehow the whole room felt smaller.
“you” he said quietly “stand up.”
she scoffed again, but it cracked at the edges.
“w–why? who the hell do you think you—”
he dropped something on her desk.
your ripped uniform ribbon.
her face drained of color.
si-eun leaned in slightly, just enough so only she could hear “touch her again,” he whispered, voice low and steady “and i’ll make sure everyone in this school knows everything you’ve been hiding.”
her eyes widened — because the folder under his arm?
it had her name on it.
and si-eun didn’t bluff.
“i don’t hit girls,” he continued, straightening up “but i don’t need to.”
then he turned to the rest of them — the whole group shrinking under the weight of his stare.
“she’s not alone anymore,” he said simply “try anything… and you’ll regret it.”
he didn’t shout.
he didn’t threaten violently.
he didn’t have to.
the girls were already trembling, gathering their bags, ready to run — but si-eun wasn’t finished.
he paused in the doorway and looked back.
“where are the guys?”
no one answered.
his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
“i won’t ask twice.”
one of the girls — the one who mocked you the loudest — broke down instantly.
“t-they’re at the gym! the one a few blocks away— behind the convenience store! that one!”
sieun nodded once.
like that was the answer he expected.
and then he left.
the gym smelled like sweat and metal, grimy and loud — and si-eun walked straight in, ignoring every stare.
the guys were clustered near the weights, laughing, bragging, alive with that ugly energy he remembered all too well.
the one who tried to forcefully kiss you the other day was the first to notice him.
“hey, you’re that kid from the restaurant.” he grinned “the fork stunt that you pulled because of that babe was cra—”
he didn’t finish.
si-eun grabbed a dumbbell — small enough to lift quickly, heavy enough to break a bone — and smashed it onto the guy’s foot with a terrifying precision.
the scream that tore out of him echoed across the gym.
three others lunged at si-eun at once.
he ducked under the first punch, calculating distances, angles, momentum — he didn’t have strength, but he didn’t need it.
he fought like math.
a weight bar to block.
a quick shove that sent someone stumbling into a machine.
a heel to a knee joint, perfectly placed.
but he took hits, too.
because he was still human.
a fist split his lip.
another left his ribs throbbing.
he didn’t stop.
he couldn’t.
not when the image of your tired eyes, your shaking hands, that damned bruised mark on your neck burned behind his eyelids.
finally, he forced the last guy down, pinning him with a forearm across his throat — not enough to choke, but enough to remind him he could.
si-eun wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
his voice was low, almost bored.
“listen carefully.”
the guy under him froze.
“if you ever touch her again… if you even look at her in a way i don’t like…”
he leaned in closer, expression flat, emotionless.
“i’ll kill you.”
the guy started shaking.
hard.
“o-okay— okay—”
“not ‘okay’” si-eun corrected, tightening his grip briefly “never again.”
he let go and stood, breathing hard, bruised, split lip dripping red.
the gym was silent.
everyone watched him leave — a thin, quiet boy with blood on his chin and murder in his eyes.
and si-eun didn’t look back once.
he had one goal now.
one person.
you.
you stayed home like he told you to.
you curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, trying to distract yourself, but your mind kept circling back to him.
you’d be lying if you said he didn’t… scare you a little.
you weren’t stupid.
it was strange how often he appeared wherever you were, how he always seemed to know things you never told him.
there was something in his eyes, something sharp and unreadable, something that made your heart quicken for reasons you couldn’t name.
but that same gaze always softened when it landed on you.
and compared to the people who actually hurt you… a boy who fought for you, who stood in front of you every time, didn’t feel like a threat.
at least not to you.
still, the silence of your apartment made it too easy to overthink, too easy to replay every moment in your head.
your fingers tapped anxiously against your mug.
then — a faint knock, barely there.
your breath hitched as you stood and opened the door.
and there he was.
blood smeared across his lip.
bruises darkening along his jaw.
one hand pressed against his ribs like he was holding himself together.
his eyes, however, were calm. eerily calm.
“it’s done,” he said quietly “they won’t bother you anymore.”
no pride.
no explanation.
just the truth, dropped into the small space between you like a confession.
you didn’t ask what he did.
you didn’t need to.
you grabbed his wrist gently and pulled him inside, already searching for the first aid kit.
your hands were shaking. not from fear, but from how badly you wanted to fix him.
he sat on the couch without complaint, watching you in that steady way he always did.
you knelt in front of him and dabbed at the dried blood on his lip, reaching towards a bruise on his cheek—
but his hand came up suddenly, fingers curling around your wrist.
you froze.
looked up.
his voice was low, rough, like each word was dragged out of him.
“don’t go anywhere without me now.”
your breath caught.
“you won’t need school anymore. i’m smart. i can teach you everything at home.”
his thumb brushed slowly over the inside of your wrist.
“you’ll be safe. always. under my control.”
your heart pounded, but you didn’t pull away.
his eyes softened then — dangerously gentle.
“i… i love you, y/n.”
his voice cracked, just a little.
“and if something happened to you—”
he swallowed, jaw tightening.
“i’d lose my mind.”
he waited.
for your fear.
for your rejection.
for anything that would make him step back.
but you looked at him — bruised, trembling, desperate — and something inside you eased.
you nodded.
a tiny, fragile movement.
“okay.”
his fingers tightened around your hand, like he had finally been given permission to breathe.
after this you slowly started to patch him up properly. he tried not to react — but he couldn’t hide it. not from you.
your fingers brushed the cut on his cheek.
his breath hitched.
your palm steadied his jaw.
his eyelashes fluttered, throat tightening.
every place you touched burned — not with pain, but something far worse. something he’d been trying to smother for days now. he felt your warmth seep into him, seep under his skin, seep into the spaces he’d locked off from everyone else his entire life.
and you didn’t pull away.
you stayed.
with him.
it nearly broke him.
his eyes drifted to the hickey on your neck like a magnet, dark and ugly against your skin. he reached out, fingers trembling as they traced the mark “i hate that they thought they could do this to you…”
your expression shifted instantly. you stepped back, covering the mark with your hand, avoiding his gaze. embarrassed. ashamed.
“don’t… remind me. please. i feel disgusting walking around with this. i… never wanted my first kiss, or anything so— i don’t know— intimate like this…”
your voice wavered, soft, honest in a way it had never been before.
“i wanted someone who matters to touch me like that. not… them.”
sieun blinked. once. twice.
“do i matter?” he asked, voice plain — too plain — but inside him everything crashed and twisted at once. jealousy. anger. disgust. possessiveness. sadness. love. lust.
he hated that they hurt you.
hated that they touched something that was never theirs to touch.
“huh?” you looked up at him again, confused for a second, then your expression softened. after a moment of quiet thought, you nodded.
“yeah… i think you do.”
your cheeks warmed instantly, because you knew exactly what you were implying. so did he.
something in sieun stuttered — a breath, a heartbeat, the thin thread of restraint he’d been clinging to.
his eyes dropped to the mark on your neck again. his jaw tightened, then he leaned in just a little, enough for you to feel the heat of his breath.
“and if i hid that ugly mark with my own…” he murmured, voice low, eyes locked on yours “would you mind?”
you swallowed nervously.
agreeing felt terrifying. but it also felt safe and… with sieun it felt almost right.
“i… i wouldn’t mind” you whispered, voice small but sure.
his breath hitched — just enough for you to notice — and you shifted closer, sitting down beside him. your knee brushed his, and somehow that tiny touch made his shoulders tense, like he was trying not to tremble.
you leaned in first, barely, a soft nudge of your lips against his.
he kissed you back — shy, clumsy, almost hesitant. it was obvious he didn’t have any real experience, his movements unsure, searching, learning you in real time.
but you weren’t any better.
so you didn’t mind.
you just let him kiss you.
slowly, like the gravity between you was pulling him down, he braced a hand beside your hip and leaned over you until your back met the couch cushions. his hair fell a little into his eyes, the bruises on his face made him look even softer, somehow.
“tell me if you want me to stop” he murmured, breath brushing your skin.
you shook your head and that was all he needed.
his lips trailed downwards, slow and careful, giving you chance after chance to pull away. he reached the mark on your neck, and for a moment he only pressed a gentle kiss there. a question. a warning. a promise.
you let out a soft, shaky sigh.
and something in him snapped loose at that soft sound of yours.
his mouth closed over the mark and then he began to suck, deliberate and unhurried. like he could erase every trace of what they did. like he could overwrite it with himself. like cleansing a wound, purifying something sacred that had been dirtied.
each slow pull of his lips felt like him saying mine mine mine without ever speaking a word.
and you didn’t push him away.
you couldn’t hold back the sounds that slipped out of you, breathy moans that you couldn’t control. your fingers gripped at the sleeves of his shirt, pulling him closer without even realizing it. and the moment he heard you, really heard you, he didn’t stop. couldn’t.
he moved lower, then higher, then across your throat, slow and possessive. each kiss turned into another mark, each mark darker than the last. he mapped your neck with his mouth, claiming every inch of skin they had touched, every place that made you shiver under him.
you were wriggling beneath him, face flushed, breaths coming unevenly. his weight above you, the heat of his body, the desperation in every kiss — it all made your pulse race.
after a few minutes he finally pulled back, bracing himself above you. his elbows sank into the couch and he looked down at you through heavy lashes. his lips were swollen, darker now, his breath uneven. there was a tiny curve to his mouth, a hint of a smile you had never seen on him before — dangerous in how soft it was.
“i’ll make you happy, y/n,” he whispered, voice rough and sure “now that you’re mine… there’s nothing left in this world that can hurt you.”
your heart stuttered in your chest, the words crashing over you like a tide you couldn’t fight.
and all you could do, all you wanted to do, was pull him back down.
you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again, deeper this time, trusting him, surrendering to him, letting him have you the way he had wanted from the very beginning.
and he kissed you like he planned to keep you forever. because he did.
fin.
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