Hi, can you do a Seongje fic where he goes home and finds his partner bruised and covered in blood, crying and trembling while trying to treat their injuries and he finds out some of the Union members beat her up after failing to do other things (iykyk) with her. And she asks him to stay the night, afraid of being left alone
Seongje x Reader | ~500 words | Complete
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You didn’t scream when it happened.
You tried to fight — clawed at arms too strong, shouted through the back alley with no light and no witnesses. Your throat was raw. Your breath burned. You only remembered the laughter. One of them had said you were "asking for it."
You spat blood at his face.
That’s what made him hit you. Over and over again. When his friend laughed, he tried to grab your shirt — said you should smile more. You didn’t remember the rest. Only the sound of footsteps that sent them running. Only the sting of gravel in your palms as you crawled away, not daring to look back.
It took you nearly an hour to walk home, blood smearing down your wrist, skirt torn, knees scraped. You unlocked the door with trembling fingers and locked it three times behind you. Only when you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror did you collapse.
Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
You were still shaking when Seongje found you.
His voice was so soft. Too soft. Like he already knew something was wrong the moment he stepped inside.
The bathroom door was cracked open. You couldn’t find the strength to call out, but your small sob — the one you thought was quiet — must’ve been loud enough. He appeared in the doorway a moment later, and the look on his face when he saw you…
"Y/N—" He dropped to his knees beside you, arms reaching out but not touching. "Baby, what—what happened?"
You couldn’t look at him. Your lip trembled. You were trying to stop the bleeding on your side, but your hands wouldn’t work.
"It was the Union," you whispered. "They found me."
His entire body went still.
"They—" You swallowed hard. "They said they were gonna ‘leave a message.’ One of them tried to touch me. Said you couldn’t protect me forever. That I was just a warm-up."
Seongje’s fists clenched. His voice dropped an octave. "Did they—?"
"No," you whispered. "Someone passed by. Scared them off. They just… hit me. A lot." A pause. "They said they'd finish it next time."
"I’m scared, Seongje. I thought I was going to die."
That was the moment he touched you — really touched you — cupping your face so carefully like he was afraid to break you. You leaned into him instantly, shaking like a leaf.
"They're not gonna hurt you again," he said. "I’ll kill them first."
You didn’t know if it was a promise or a vow.
He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night.
He carried you from the bathroom to the bed, cleaned your wounds with shaking hands. His jaw was locked the whole time, gaze lingering on every bruise like he was memorizing them — not to pity you, but to avenge you.
When he pulled your torn shirt away and saw the red handprint on your collarbone, he froze.
Then he exhaled. "That’s the last thing he’ll ever touch."
You let him help you change, holding your arms out like a child, letting him button one of his shirts over your bandaged skin. You didn’t want to be alone — not even for a second — so he stayed in your bed, wrapping his arms around you like a fortress.
You hadn’t stopped shaking.
"Will you stay the night?" you whispered, voice small.
He didn’t even answer. He just held you tighter.
You woke in the middle of the night from a nightmare — sweaty, panicked, your heartbeat racing. Seongje was already awake, his arms tightening around you the moment you whimpered.
"I’m here. I’m right here," he murmured into your hair.
You were crying before you could stop it. He let you. He didn’t tell you to quiet down. Just kissed your forehead and let the storm come out.
You hadn’t even realized what you were saying until the words slipped out.
"Don’t leave me. Please."
He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. "I won’t. Not now. Not ever."
Then his voice turned darker.
"But I have to make them pay."
"Not tonight," he said, kissing your knuckles. "Tonight, I’m staying with you."
You hadn’t left the apartment. Seongje made sure you had everything. Food, blankets, clothes — his voice always low and calm with you, even when his phone rang and his tone turned sharp the second he stepped into the other room.
He hadn’t told you what he was planning.
But you knew the rage in him had only grown colder. Focused. His smile never reached his eyes now. His fists were bruised. His hoodie sleeves stained with blood he didn’t try to wash out.
When you asked if he was okay, he’d only answer:
He came home later than usual.
There was blood on his knuckles again. A small cut on his cheek. His hoodie smelled like sweat and rain and smoke.
You rushed to him immediately. "Seongje—what happened?"
He pulled you into his arms before answering.
"They won’t be coming back."
His voice was steady. Hollow. "One of them's in the hospital. The other two…" He didn’t finish the sentence. "They got the message. They won't breathe your name again."
You didn’t cry this time. You just leaned into him. "Did it help?"
His silence spoke volumes.
"Not enough," he whispered. "But it’s a start."
You guided him to the bathroom. Cleaned his wounds this time. You kissed the cut on his cheek and he closed his eyes.
"They should’ve never touched you."
"They didn’t get what they wanted," you said softly. "But they still took something. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again."
"You will." He cupped your face. "I’ll make sure of it. I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again."
You nodded, voice trembling. "Will you stay? Not just tonight… but always?"
"I’m already yours," he said.
That night, when you pulled him into bed again, he was hesitant to touch you — like he thought you were still too fragile. So you kissed him first. You took his hands and placed them on your hips. You whispered: "It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid of breaking me."
His lips were gentle. His hands traced every inch of you like you were sacred. He didn’t rush. Just held you through it all.
There was no sex — not yet. But there was intimacy.
You laid there wrapped in his arms, head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
For the first time in days, you weren’t afraid.
Later, Seongje stood on the balcony in the dark, a cigarette between his fingers, staring down at the city.
He’d buried his fists in someone’s face for every bruise you came home with.
But the rage didn’t leave him. It sat heavy in his chest like lead.
When he came back inside, you were asleep — curled in the blankets, wearing his hoodie, breathing softly.
He kissed your forehead again, whispering:
"If they ever touch you again, I’ll burn this entire city down."
author's note: kinda did this at ike 6 am so idk if i showed that the union tried to do stuff with her like enough idk so im sorry i need.more cofee after this T_T ok ilysm