kyungmi’s note. no because this plot? so down bad for. it’s the fact that we all eventually have to move on even if it’s hard to do so. emotional hwajin, i really live for.
content warning. a LOT of sadness but happiness. it’s a good mixture of both. hwajin really falls hard and fast for reader. innocent touching. yearning. he needs and deserves happiness so falling for you is what gave him all that back. kissing. really? just love and affection.
the request! Can I request something with Na Hwajin, where he begins falling for his colleague (reader) but is conflicted since it feels like he’s betraying his deceased fiancé? (I think it’s also sweet to include Mr. Choi being encouraging towards him to procure reader)? Please and thank you!!
now playing. . .
──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────
the sound of your screaming was the only thing he heard and the blurred silhouette of your body running towards him before everything went quiet, still, and dark. this mission wasn’t exactly what any of you were expecting. the students were far more worse than the other schools you’ve already visited and finished.
before the incident.
hwajin found himself watching you. you’d speak and his eyes immediately followed, watching the way your lips moved or how you smiled about something. when you frowned? it was the worst feeling. he didn’t want you to be upset or ever feel upset. this feeling was killing him.
“hwa? i took a look at this student..”
you started, but didn’t finish. he was already looking at you. you had to admit.. it made you feel a bit insecure. why would he stare at you? was it your facial expression or the way you spoke a bit loud at times. instead of him asking you to continue like he usually did, he stared.
“s-so.. it looks like he’s not only being bullied but they’re forcing him to scam people after school. when he’s caught he’s beat up by people who were scammed and i feel this is a bit more..”
you stopped again. hwajin’s staring was so intense that it was hard to breathe. his handsome features always made you so nervous and the way his arms were crossed over his broad chest.. what were you even thinking? he lost a wife only two years ago. how could you think of him like that? you were awful. so awful.
“you’re doing an amazing job.”
his sudden compliment took you by surprise and you bowed your head kindly, “thank you hwajin.”
that wasn’t the first time he had done this…
just as a student was about to hit you, hwajin grabbed ahold of your waist and pulled you back behind him, effortlessly shielding you from the hit. you gasped at how fast he was and how quick he was to protect you.
“boys don’t hit girls. weren’t you taught that?”
hwajin slapped him instead sending him flying across the room. sure you were still new and all but the way he protected you felt different. not like before.. when he wouldn’t even glance your way. now? that’s all he did was look at you, compliment you, touch you in certain areas that made your heartbeat quicken.. was this love?
it couldn’t be.
“we need to talk.”
hwajin sat down on the couch that sat in his empty and cold living room. mr. choi continued to stand, grabbing the photo of his daughter who hwajin had placed there years ago. he was close to saying something, a quiet ‘put that down’ but he didn’t which was weird of him.
“isn’t it time for you to be happy?”
“if this is about y/n then—”
mr. choi chuckled. of course it was about you. why wouldn’t it be? he saw everything. from the way hwajin stared at you to the compliments and even the lingering touches. what he had noticed is how happy and relaxed he seemed to be around you.
“it’s time. you’ve sent her off well and you’ll continue to love her for the rest of your life but she would want you to be happy. to find happiness.”
a tear rolled down hwajin’s cheek. it was warm. a bit red from the soju and he took a deep breath. not knowing what to say or do next so he stayed quiet and mr. choi understood. gently patted his shoulder and left the apartment where hwajin was left alone to cry and think about his feelings. truly? he wanted you.
another day. another school. another bully. hwajin had one and you had your own. a girl that broke in front of you that didn’t want to be this way anymore and you felt you could believe it.. until more problems came and she lied. it was stressful. exhausting. you sat in the office and waited for the next move. the right next move that was and hwajin took a seat next to you.
“hey pretty. you feeling okay?”
pretty. he’d never spoke to you like that before. it made you.. feel weird. that weird feeling in your belly. that weird feeling that women usually got around men who made them happy, shy, and excited. did he feel it too?
“y-yeah! just.. thinking. this one is a bit difficult.”
hwajin nodded and his hand then rested on your own. his thumb rubbed your index finger, “you’re doing so well. don’t give up, hm? we’ve got this. together.” and you finally looked at him. staring into his eyes that seemed so much more happier and lively. although he still cried every night wondering if this was a good idea. wondering if he was forgetting his deceased wife a bit too fast.. mr. choi urged him to go for happiness.
you three found a small restaurant to have lunch. finally being able to just relax and take care of your body after weeks of hard work. hwajin sat beside you, his chair a lot closer than it was originally placed. you shrugged it off but mr. choi? noticed. watched. his thin lips curled up into a smile watching hwajin smile. a genuine smile that he hadn’t seen in a long time.
“want to try some of my japchae? here, i’ll feed you.”
and you leaned in closer to his side, parting your lips for him to feed you. once you took the bite, he leaned in and smiled, “good huh? i’ll share with you.” but was that just an excuse to sit closer? he even forgot mr. choi who had been sitting across from you both.
“oh. you have some..”
hwajin took his thumb, wiping the corner of your mouth and licking it off which made your eyes widened. that’s something only couples did or.. two people that liked each other. “you’re so cute sometimes.” another.. compliment. he was more open than ever. nudging you at times and laughing, feeding you, wiping your mouth, paying for your meal, wanting to be alone with you..
it was all adding up. hwajin was in love with you.
it wasn’t confirmed until.. the incident.
you paced the waiting room, unable to think properly or sit down. he was in surgery. nothing like this had ever happened before but the student.. damn that student! had awful people above him. going as far as severely injuring hwajin. “sit sweetheart. he’s going to be ok.” mr. choi tried his best to calm you and keep you from having a panic attack but how could you? he was hurt-
“excuse me? are you both with na hwajin?”
you were quick to nod and run over towards the doctor who gave you the best news. his surgery went well. it would take him a few weeks to recover and that was when you knew, he needed you the most.
once he was in his own room, you sat beside him. laid half of your body next to him and slept. slept with him, holding his hand. hwajin woke up before you, smiling from happiness seeing you there. he was weak but was still desperate to touch you. feel you.
“pretty girl.”
his sweet voice pulled you from slumber and your eyes widened seeing that he was awake, “hwa! are you ok? do i need to get the doctor?” but he shook his head. what he needed? was you. only you. “come here.”
he pulled you onto the bed with him and you tried not to make it too uncomfortable but his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer than you intended to be but.. it felt right. “you’re such a sweet girl.” he whispered softly and you smiled, “my sweet girl.”
“w-what?” and before you could say anything else he leaned up just a bit to press his lips against your own.
the kiss was sweet. slow. he reached up and grabbed the back of your neck in a gentle manner, stopping you from pulling away. he tilted his head, deepening the kiss which caused you to whimper and he smiled against your lips.
“what do you say, we have an official date after i get out of here?” and you nodded, leaning in to kiss him a hundred times if that was even possible.
Summary: You grab his hand in a crowd and forget to let go. Hwajin doesn't remind you.
Author's Note: Another Hwajin fic??? While my other wips cry?? Yes <3 enjoy!!!
Disclaimer: None ig? Its a short fic tho
Main Masterlist
The festival had been your idea.
Looking back, you would later decide that this was precisely why you had nobody to blame for what happened except yourself.
The streets were crowded long before noon, packed with people drifting between rows of market stalls draped in colorful fabric and strings of lanterns. The scent of grilled meat, sweet pastries, and freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, while music from street performers blended into the constant murmur of conversation.
You loved places like this.
Hwajin tolerated them.
The distinction was obvious in the way he walked beside you with his hands in his pockets, his expression carrying the same calm indifference it always did. He looked like a man accompanying someone on an errand rather than attending a festival.
"You could at least pretend to be enjoying yourself."
"I am."
You glanced at him.
"You look like you're attending a business meeting."
"I enjoy those too."
You groaned dramatically. For the first time that day, the corner of his mouth twitched.
It was a victory.
A small one, but you would take what you could get.
The crowd thickened as you approached the main street. A large group emerged from one of the intersections, forcing everyone closer together until walking became a slow, awkward shuffle.
You found yourself jostled from both sides.
Someone accidentally stepped on your shoe.
Another person cut between you and Hwajin.
Before you could lose sight of him entirely, you reached out and grabbed his hand.
The gesture happened without thought.
It was practical.
You had no desire to spend the next hour searching for him through hundreds of strangers.
Hwajin glanced down briefly at your joined hands but offered no comment.
Satisfied, you continued forward.
The issue was that you forgot all about it almost immediately.
The first distraction arrived less than two minutes later in the form of a small shop selling handmade accessories.
"Oh, look at that."
Without hesitation, you pulled Hwajin toward the stall.
The elderly woman running it greeted you enthusiastically while you examined rows of bracelets and rings displayed beneath glass cases. Several minutes passed as you admired everything and asked questions, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still holding his hand.
When you finally moved on, you simply brought him with you.
Neither of you acknowledged it.
Then came the food stalls.
Then the book vendors.
Then a booth where a local artist was sketching portraits.
Each new attraction captured your attention so completely that the hand in yours became nothing more than a comforting certainty in the background.
Hwajin remained beside you through all of it.
Occasionally, you would feel his grip tighten slightly whenever someone attempted to push through the crowd too aggressively.
Sometimes he guided you around obstacles before you even noticed them.
At one point, when you became distracted by a display of pottery and nearly walked into a cyclist, he pulled you back without a word.
The entire thing felt so natural that your brain eventually stopped registering it as unusual.
By late afternoon, the festival had settled into a pleasant rhythm.
You bought snacks.
He carried them.
You talked.
He listened.
You dragged him into every shop that caught your interest. He followed with the patience of a man who had long accepted his fate.
The realization should have occurred much sooner. Unfortunately, it arrived nearly six hours later.
The sun had already begun to set when you wandered into a bookstore tucked away from the main street. The atmosphere inside was quiet and warm, offering welcome relief from the noise outside.
You browsed leisurely through several shelves before spotting a novel you had been searching for.
Excited, you reached for it.
The movement finally drew your attention downward.
To your hand.
To his.
Still connected.
Your brain stopped functioning. For several seconds, you simply stared. Then you stared some more.
Because surely there had been a mistake. Surely you had not spent an entire day holding Na Hwajin's hand.
An entire day.
Like some lovestruck teenager. Like a person completely incapable of behaving normally.
Slowly, horrified by your own stupidity, you turned toward him.
"Hwajin."
"Hm?"
His attention remained on the book he was examining.
"We've been holding hands."
"Yes."
You blinked.
The immediate response somehow made everything worse.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
That finally earned his attention. His gaze shifted toward you, calm as ever.
"You seemed occupied."
"I've been occupied for six hours."
A faint amusement entered his eyes.
"Approximately."
Heat flooded your face. You released his hand so quickly that it felt almost violent.
"Oh my God."
The words escaped in a groan.
"I'm so sorry."
"For what?"
"For this."
You gestured helplessly between the two of you.
"I grabbed your hand because of the crowd and then completely forgot about it. You must've thought I was insane."
The silence that followed lasted only a moment.
Then he closed the book in his hand and returned it to the shelf.
"No."
"No?"
"No."
You frowned.
The answer was suspiciously simple. Before you could question him further, Hwajin stepped closer.
Not enough to be overwhelming, just enough that your pulse immediately forgot how to behave.
"You don't need to apologize."
You stared.
"Why?"
For the first time all day, his expression softened completely. The change was subtle enough that most people would never notice it. Because it was reserved for very few people.
And because every time it appeared, it made your heart feel unsteady.
"I liked it."
The world ended. That was the only explanation. Civilization had collapsed. The earth had split apart.
Because Na Hwajin had just looked you directly in the eye and admitted something without being forced.
Your face became unbearably hot.
"Hwajin—"
"You were happy."
His voice remained calm... matter-of-fact, as though he were explaining something obvious.
"You kept finding things you wanted to show me. Every time you got excited about something, you forgot to let go and pulled me somewhere else."
You wished the floor would open beneath you.
Instead, he continued.
"I didn't mind."
The bookstore suddenly felt much too small.
Much too warm.
You could not look at him. You could barely look at anything.
A laugh escaped him then, quiet and rare.
The sound only made your situation worse.
When you finally managed to meet his gaze again, there was something unexpectedly gentle waiting there.
Something that made your chest ache.
Outside, the sky had darkened into shades of deep blue and gold.
People continued passing beyond the bookstore windows. The festival carried on around them. Neither of you paid much attention.
Eventually, Hwajin reached for your hand again.
This time, it was deliberate.
Your breath caught as he lifted it slightly.
Then, with the same calm certainty he brought to everything he did, he pressed a brief kiss against your knuckles.
The gesture lasted barely a second. It was enough to leave you completely speechless.
"See you tomorrow."
He released your hand, turned and walked toward the door.
Meanwhile, you remained frozen beside the bookshelf, staring after him while your entire face felt approximately the temperature of the sun.
Only when he disappeared into the evening crowd did you finally recover enough to whisper:
"...What the hell?!"
asdfghj i pulled this outta my ass lmao. I wrote this sleep deprived and on my phone so j hope this fic makes sense in the morning. Hope u guys liked it! Comments, likes and rbs appreciated <3
The small restaurant, though modest, resonated with a familiar commotion that evening. Hu-min’s laughter, always too loud, drowned out the crackling radio playing an old Korean trot song. Gotak finished his bowl of ramyeon with fervor, and Jun-tae meticulously cut his kimchi, as if it were a surgical operation. Yeon Si-eun, for his part, kept his arms crossed, his eyes skimming the table, pretending to be interested in the texture of the wood.
He wasn't there for the meal. Not really. Since they had entered, he had sensed something—a weight, a draft, an extra heartbeat—something dissonant in that narrow space. He intermittently stared at the slightly torn curtain that led to the back of the restaurant, where Hu-min had disappeared shouting a “Be right back, gotta check something!” too exaggerated not to be a habit.
Then she had appeared.
Not in a beam of light, not with her hair floating in slow motion like in dramas. She was just there, suddenly, standing in the doorway, barefoot, arms hanging loosely. Her eyes were vacant. As if she saw no one, or perhaps everyone at once.
Y/N.
Yeon Si-eun didn't know why his stomach had turned. She wasn't doing anything. She was just there. He felt a cramp at the base of his neck, a strange tension he had only known once before, facing an unpredictable opponent. But there, it wasn't about strategy or threat. It was something else. A subtle panic. A curiosity with fangs.
She had approached her brother silently. Hu-min had turned around, surprised, then immediately smiling. A smile that, Si-eun now realized, was too rushed, too automatic. The kind of smile that says, "Don't fall apart in front of them. Please.”
"Aren't you sleeping?"
She shrugged almost imperceptibly. And in that simple gesture, Yeon Si-eun saw more than he had seen in some of his former enemies. A nameless weariness. A broken mechanism. Someone who wasn't made for words but had too much to say.
"I heard... you were laughing too loudly. I thought... you had fallen."
Her voice was cracked, like a silk thread stretched too tight. Hu-min caught her by the shoulder and massaged the back of her neck as one calms a wounded animal.
"I'm fine, Y/N. I'm just loud, you know that. Go back and rest, huh?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes slid across the room. They met Si-eun's.
It was only a second. But for him, it was enough.
There was nothing romantic about it. No projection, no idealization. Just a look, full of fatigue, shame, stifled anger. A frozen storm. And something, deep inside him, started to scream.
"Why her? Why now?"
He didn't know her story, but he knew that expression. He had seen it on the faces of some comrades before they disappeared. Before they left messages that no one really understood.
While Gotak wrestled with a sauce stain and Jun-tae tried to understand a math memo, Si-eun kept his eyes on her. She wasn't smiling. She wasn't doing anything to be noticed. And yet, every detail of her presence electrified him: the sleeves that were too long, the dark circles under her eyes that shouldn't exist at her age, the way she stood as if breathing was an act that required permission.
Hu-min had gently pushed her back towards the curtain.
"I'll join you in a bit. Promise."
She had turned her head. Another moment. Just long enough for Si-eun to feel his breath catch in his throat.
She wasn't pretty, in the classic sense. Not radiant, nor gentle. She looked absent. Like a photograph too many years old. But that absence, that was precisely what had captured him. That void that called out. That void that screamed.
Since that night, he hadn't been able to shake it off.
He didn't yet know if it was attraction, compassion, or an obsession born of his own loneliness. But Y/N now haunted his silences. His analyses crumbled as soon as he thought of her. He had surprised himself by returning to the restaurant two days later, alone. Pretending he had forgotten something. Then another time. And again.
But she didn't reappear.
He understood that she rarely went out. And only to follow her brother's voice, like a cracked compass.
This made her absence more present than any presence.
He began to observe Hu-min, to dissect the moments when his mask slipped, when his laughter was too high-pitched. He told himself that he had to know. That he saw her suffering. But that he couldn't do anything. Not alone.
It was then that Yeon Si-eun felt the first real shiver of fear in a long time.
Not for himself.
For her.
And something within him stretched, slowly, painfully, like a promise being born in the dark: he would see her again. He would understand her. He had no right to ignore her.
Not her.
---
That day, Y/N rose slowly, as if each movement was a struggle against gravity. The curtain of the small room where she and her brother usually slept was drawn, and light barely filtered through the holes. She knew it had been too long since she had felt Hu-min's presence. It was a sensation she couldn't ignore, a void that wouldn't disappear. Usually, he was there, with his loud laughter and his voice too loud to be ignored. But today, it was as if he had gone silent.
She got up, her legs trembling with the effort, her bare feet softly hitting the cold floor. Each step brought her closer to the door, but she felt as if her body was resisting this movement, as if it didn't want to let her cross that threshold. Yet, she went out. The house felt different when Hu-min wasn't there to fill the space with his noisy presence, his incessant attempts to make her smile.
When she arrived at the school, the boys were in a classroom at the end of the hallway. The place, like everything else, was steeped in a heavy, cold atmosphere. It was where they often gathered, together, away from prying eyes. When Y/N entered the room, she paused for a moment on the threshold, her eyes frantically searching for the three boys.
Jun-tae looked up and, before Si-eun and Gotak had even reacted, he noticed her, his face hardening for an instant. She wasn't supposed to be here. Not now. Not in this state.
"Hu-min…" Her voice, trembling, broke the heavy silence of the room. "Where is he? Where is my brother ?"
The boys exchanged a quick glance. Si-eun didn't need more to understand. He knew this question was coming. He also knew what it implied. He couldn't tell her the truth, at least not bluntly. Not yet.
"He… he went somewhere. But he'll be back soon." Si-eun's answer was measured, almost cold, as if it belonged to a different world than Y/N's. He didn't dare worry her too much, but he felt a heavy truth beneath his words. "Don't worry, he just has some things to take care of."
Y/N looked at him, deep confusion in her eyes. She frowned. Her lips tightened, an expression of vulnerability that didn't suit her. "He promised me we'd go to the aquarium... We were supposed to… he was supposed to come back." She lowered her head, then, suddenly, her gaze fell on Gotak, whose face was graver than ever, and who looked away.
"He'll be back, Y/N. Don't worry," Gotak repeated, trying to sound reassuring, but his tone betrayed a worry that even he couldn't hide.
Y/N didn't answer immediately. She stared at the floor, her mind lost in a thick, distant haze. She wasn't in this room. Her thoughts were elsewhere, further away, towards a place where promises were broken, and where Hu-min was no longer the person she had known.
Sadness, an unbearable weight, slowly seeped into her. She felt like a spectator of her own life. She could no longer connect with others, understand laughter, understand words. She only knew that, without Hu-min, this world became too vast and too cold for her.
Yeon Si-eun finally stood up, his gaze fixed on Y/N with an intensity he hadn't yet dared to show her. He had seen the hidden suffering behind her eyes. He had seen the way she fled from herself, the way she hid in silence, as if she were afraid of everything that was alive. But he couldn't leave her in this state.
"He'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it wasn't a promise, it was a statement. He didn't know exactly what was happening, but he knew it wouldn't be easy for any of them.
Y/N didn't answer. She turned slowly and, without a word, left the room. The sound of her footsteps faded in the hallway, taking with it some of the heavy air in the room.
The boys remained there, not knowing what to say. Jun-tae sighed deeply. Gotak clenched his fists on the table. Si-eun, for his part, found himself once again facing the reality of the situation. He knew Y/N wouldn't see it this way, but he now understood that everything was connected: Hu-min, his laughter, his secrets, and Y/N's invisible suffering. They were caught in a vortex far more complex than they could have imagined.
But for now, they only had one thing to do: protect this fragile balance, protect the facade they were maintaining. Because it was all going to collapse soon.
That night, Y/N went to bed early, as was her habit. Her body was heavy, almost numb. But before closing her eyes, she thought of a promise Hu-min had made her. A promise he hadn't been able to keep.
"I'll be back."
---
FLASHBACK – About ten years ago
Little Y/N was barely five years old at the time. Two big, curious eyes, round cheeks, and that clear laugh that sounded like a jingle bell shaken a little too fast. She was shy, yes—she hid behind her brother when strangers spoke to them—but around him, she transformed.
With Hu-min, she was a sunbeam.
"Oppaaaaaa! You're running too fast!" she cried one day, arms outstretched, struggling to keep up with the two boys who were dashing ahead.
"You're too slow, Y/N! You're a slug!" Baek-jin teased, laughing.
"Am not!" she retorted, puffing out her cheeks. "You're cheating because you have dinosaur legs!"
The three children burst into laughter, collapsing onto the park ground, out of breath. Hu-min had grabbed his little sister and spun her around in the air before setting her down, laughing.
"There's my super flying Y/N! Faster than a hungry pigeon!"
She started laughing so hard that she got the hiccups.
In those days, Y/N thought life was simple: running, laughing, teasing Baek-jin calling him Jin-nie, building forts under the sheets, and eating candy stolen from the cupboard when their father hadn't come home yet.
But the house changed when the sun went down.
And especially, it changed when their father came home.
The sound of the key in the lock froze the air. Silence fell like a contained storm.
Y/N would freeze. Always. Like an animal that hears the predator approaching. Hu-min, on the other hand, would switch to autopilot. He would go get their father's slippers, discreetly remove any bottles from the table, grab Y/N's hand, and take her to their small room.
"Close the door, okay? Don't say a word. Even if you hear shouting."
She would nod, trembling. Her hands were icy.
And the shouting would begin.
Not howls of pain. Not blows. But words that sliced through the air like blades.
"Two parasites. The girl sleeps all day. The boy plays the hero. You're ruining my life."
Y/N would cry silently. Her body curled up under her blanket. Hu-min would come join her, sliding next to her like an invisible barrier between her and the walls of the world.
And then he would start. The little theater.
He would begin to whisper in the dark.
"You know what I saw today? A magpie trying to steal a sandwich! I swear, it looked guilty. Like it was about to be arrested by the police!"
Y/N sniffled.
"Magpies... do they go to prison?"
"Unless they write a ten-line poem to apologize. But yours just said 'caw-caw,' so it was put in a cell with a pigeon with a bad reputation."
A small laugh escaped Y/N's throat. Weak, but sincere.
That was all he wanted. A spark. A tiny ray.
Sometimes, he would make faces in the dark. Other times, he would mime a fight between a sock dragon and a sock knight. He would invent absurd songs that rhymed "kimchi" with "spaghetti" and "rocket" with "holey socks."
He would have given anything for her to keep that laugh.
But every year, he saw her close in on herself a little more. Every insult, every silence that followed the outbursts, chipped away a little more at the light she carried.
And he, Hu-min, fought back. In his own way.
He became louder, more alive. He laughed loudly for two. He rolled his eyes at every criticism, pretending it didn't affect him. But inside, he was slowly collapsing.
Y/N, on the other hand, was fading away.
And he clung to her as to a silent promise. That he would get her out of there. That he would always be there.
Because she was more than just a little sister.
She was the only person who had ever looked at him like a hero.
And he had no right to disappoint her.
Even if she no longer laughed.
Even if she was slowly fading before his eyes.
He would continue.
Until the end.
---
The Next Day
Yeon Si-eun hadn’t slept a wink all night.
He had replayed the scene over and over—Y/N’s figure, frail, worried, standing in the middle of the empty classroom, her voice cracking with fear as she asked, "Where's my brother?"
She had only stayed for a few minutes. But since then, she hadn't left his mind.
He hated himself for it.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to him. He had built walls, erected defense strategies more complex than those of any opponent. He had always kept his distance. Observer. Neutral. Cold, some said. Prudent, he corrected.
But with her, there had been a hole in the armor. And through that hole, she had slipped. Not with words or smiles. But with her silence. With that pain suspended in the void of her eyes.
That morning, he had waited for the exact time he knew she would be alone. He had unconsciously memorized Y/N’s schedule. He knew she didn't eat in the morning. That she slept most of the time. But today, he was going to knock on her door.
Not out of altruism.
Not out of kindness.
But because he couldn't bear not seeing her anymore.
**
Hu-min had absentmindedly given him the address of the small apartment above the restaurant. Si-eun went there with a precise, almost military step. His hands were in his pockets, his thoughts hazy, but his heart beating fast. Much too fast. He hated this loss of control.
He knocked twice.
No answer.
He was about to leave, but the door finally opened. Slowly. As if it weighed a ton.
And Y/N was there. Her hair disheveled. Her face still blurred with sleep. She was wearing an oversized sweater, its sleeves falling over her hands. He read in her gaze the effort each step towards that door had cost her.
"Si-eun…?"
She seemed surprised. Almost wary.
He could have said he was passing "by chance." He could have made up an excuse.
But that wasn't his style.
"I wanted to see if you were okay."
She didn't answer. She blinked. Once. Twice.
And then, she stepped aside without a word.
He entered.
**
Silence settled in immediately. Si-eun didn't break it. He observed. The apartment was cramped, almost bare. Two mugs on the table, curtains permanently drawn, a mattress in a corner. And that smell of stale tea, of stagnant sleep.
She sat back down on the bed without looking at him. He remained standing at first. Then sat down on the floor, facing her, at a good distance.
Not a word.
And in that silence… something was born.
It wasn't a game of glances, nor an exchange of confidences. It was something else. A contained tension. A raw intimacy, without justification. A strange calm. He didn't need to understand her, nor to find the right words to soothe her.
She wasn't crying. She wasn't talking.
She was simply there.
And he was there too.
Then, slowly, her shoulders slumped. She rested her head against the wall, her eyelids half-closed. Si-eun didn't move. He watched her for a long time, until he felt her breathing regulate. And suddenly, he understood: she was asleep.
She had fallen asleep.
In his presence.
And it was an insane victory.
A shiver ran through him. Something feverish. Unhealthy perhaps, but irrepressible. She had granted him a trust that no one else had. She had let her guard down. He had become a fixed point in her blurry world.
And in his, she had become an obsession.
**
Since that day, he returned. Every day. At the same time.
He never warned her. But she always opened the door a little before. Sometimes barely conscious, other times already sitting, her eyes vacant. As if her body had sensed him. As if a part of her wanted to see him.
He always brought something. Jasmine tea. Pieces of sweet bread. A novel. A potted plant. Discreet, almost ridiculous things. And yet, every detail had been weighed, considered, chosen for her.
But it wasn't the objects that mattered. It was his presence. Constant.
He didn't ask questions. Didn't force anything.
Sometimes they talked.
About trivialities. The weather. A memory. A dream.
And sometimes not at all.
But he felt that something was changing. Slowly. A crack in the marble.
She was beginning to wait for him.
And he… he no longer thought of anything else.
The outside world had faded. Even his strategies, his fights, his calculations were erased. He no longer recognized himself. He would catch himself looking at his phone, listening to the slightest sound, hoping it was her. He observed the smallest details: the way she pushed up her sleeves, how her fingers absentmindedly twisted a strand of hair, how she stared at the ceiling when she thought he wasn't looking.
He didn't just want her close. He wanted to be everything to her.
Her thought. Her refuge. Her center.
And that thought, although he kept it silent, consumed him.
**
But Y/N was getting increasingly worse.
Some days, she didn't even get up. She would lie there, turned towards the wall, her eyes open without really seeing. Other times, she would talk about herself—rarely, but with a sharp lucidity.
"It's weird," she said one evening, her eyes vacant. "I feel everything. And nothing. As if I'm transparent… and heavy at the same time."
Si-eun didn't answer. He was too afraid that the slightest word would break this moment.
She continued:
"Sometimes, I just want to sleep… for a long time. And for everyone to forget I exist."
His own heart clenched. A dull ache. An icy fear.
And anger. A furious anger at this world that had broken her. At that father, at that indifference, at the weight she carried alone.
He wanted to scream for her. Fight for her. Pull her out of this abyss with the strength of his arms.
But he only did one thing: he placed his hand against hers. And this time, she didn't pull it away.
**
Since then, he woke up every morning with only one thought: to see her again.
He lived for that suspended moment between them, in that narrow room, where nothing hurt anymore. He didn't say it, but he knew: he was falling. And it wasn't pure love. It was deeper. More twisted.
He wanted her to see him.
To need him.
For him to be the only thing standing in her collapsing world.
And without realizing it, Y/N was letting him in a little more each day.
She didn't smile. But she listened to him.
She didn't always speak. But she stayed.
And for Si-eun, that was all it took.
He had promised himself, in silence: he would never leave her alone again.
Even if she didn't love him.
Even if she didn't look at him.
He would stay.
Until she no longer needed anyone but him.
---
POV Hu-min
That night, the air reeked of grease, stale tobacco, and lies.
Hu-min, now called "Baku" in certain circles he should never have approached, watched the purple neon lights of the bowling alley flicker like a warning. Each flash seemed to tell him: "You're no longer who you pretend to be." But he went in anyway. Because he had no choice.
Na Baek-jin was there, of course. Sitting on the worn leatherette bench, surrounded by two guys older than him. One was cleaning a baseball bat with a dirty rag. The other was finishing a bowl of tteokbokki with lazy gestures.
"You're on time. That's new, Baku," Baek-jin said without looking up.
Hu-min didn't answer. He had learned not to.
The game had changed a long time ago. Baek-jin was no longer the kid who ran around the park with him and Y/N. He had become the kind of guy who spoke softly but whose silences killed more than words. Hu-min knew what was hidden behind that calm. Anger. Resentment. A will to dominate that was no longer childish.
And he also knew one thing: Baek-jin was using him. But he also had everything he needed to destroy him.
"We spotted a guy delivering for a rival gang. He goes through the river road around 11 PM. You stop him. You get the bag. And if he resists, you shut him up."
Hu-min clenched his fists. "You mean I have to beat him up."
"You've always been quick to understand. That's what I like about you."
A sneer split Baek-jin's face. He loved this power. This control. And Hu-min felt every fiber of his being scream in despair. He wasn't that kind of guy. He had never been that kind of guy.
But he did it anyway.
Because one day, Baek-jin had come knocking on his door, a smile plastered on his face:
"Your old man owed money. A lot. Now you pay. With your time, your body, your loyalty. And if you try to run... I know guys who know how to make silent girls talk."
He hadn't needed to say her name. Y/N was the ultimate leverage.
Since then, Hu-min had taken it all. The blows, the orders, the shame. He smiled like an idiot at the restaurant. He cracked jokes with his friends. But he lost pieces of himself with every night spent with these guys.
And he had believed that as long as Y/N stayed out of all this, he could keep going. Until he found a way out.
But he hadn't expected her to look for him.
***
Bowling Alley, a few days later
Y/N had had to gather all the energy she had left to go out. A rare thing. But her brother's absence was a dull ache that grew with each passing hour. He hadn't come home for two days. He wasn't answering. He hadn't left any messages.
Something was wrong.
So she had gotten up. She had put on an oversized sweatshirt, her worn sneakers, and gone to where her friends said he sometimes hung out: an old bowling alley near the canal. A den of delinquents. She knew what people whispered. But she didn't care.
She walked through the door into a din of cheesy music and crashing pins. The smell assaulted her immediately, but she held her ground. She scanned the room, her throat tight.
And then she saw him.
Baek-jin.
He hadn't changed. Well, physically maybe. He had grown taller, broader, but his eyes… they were the same. Cold, calculating. And she immediately felt a mixture of annoyance, pain, and memories she wished she could erase.
She walked forward, straight, awkward, but determined. "Where's my brother?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, but firm.
Baek-jin stared at her slowly. He tilted his head. "Y/N? Is that you? I almost didn't recognize you."
He smiled, but there was nothing kind in that smile. "Your brother is busy. He's doing what he needs to do to protect you, you should be grateful to him."
"Stop your bullshit," she murmured, her eyes shining. "You have no idea what he's sacrificing for you."
And that's when he arrived. Hu-min. Out of breath. Dirty. His jaw clenched.
"Y/N… what the hell are you doing here?!"
She turned to him. Her eyes pleaded. "I'm looking for you. You disappear. You don't come home. You haven't eaten. You don't look at me anymore. What are you doing, Oppa? Huh? What are you doing?!"
Y/N only saw her brother. And what she read in his eyes wasn't anger. It was shame.
And that's what broke her.
"Why are you doing this, Hu-min? Why are you doing this for him?"
"Because I don't have a choice!" he blurted out. "Because if I don't, he'll destroy you. He's pushing our shitty father to the edge. He's offing the guys I care about."
His voice trembled. "So I get dirty. Instead of you. For you. So you can just… sleep. Breathe. Without him taking away what little you have left."
She looked at him for a long time. And it wasn't anger he saw on her face. It was pain.
Naked pain. Raw. Immense.
"But you're destroying yourself," she whispered. "And I can't… I can't lose you too."
He wanted to tell her it was nothing. That he would handle it. But his words died in his throat. He couldn't lie to those eyes. Not to her.
He stepped closer, grabbed her shoulders. "You have to get out of here. Now."
"You think I sleep to forget? I sleep because I already feel dead. But you're not helping me come back. You're leaving."
The silence that followed was heavier than the shouts.
And Baek-jin, behind them, was amused. "Your sister's brave. I like her. She's grown up."
"Shut up," Hu-min growled without turning around.
He turned towards the exit. Spotted a familiar figure. Si-eun.
He waved him over. "Take her home. She shouldn't be here. She's not made for this."
Si-eun hesitated. Y/N struggled a little, her eyes wet, her body tense. But when she met Si-eun's serious gaze, she understood. He wouldn't force her. But he would protect her.
She nodded. Just a small nod. A silent pact.
And she went out.
But as she crossed the threshold, she swore one thing: She would find out everything. She would no longer let her brother sink into the darkness alone.
---
Outside, the air was glacial. A cutting wind. A fierce silence.
Y/N walked ahead, arms crossed, face closed off. Si-eun followed her without a word. He always kept that distance of a step or two, never too close, never too far—as if he were walking a fragile ridge between modesty and instinct.
But tonight, something was different.
Y/N hadn't uttered a word since they left the bowling alley. Her back was stiff, her fists clenched, and her figure seemed to float, as if she were walking without really touching the ground.
Si-eun felt it. A tension too strong. An invisible weight bending her over. And that, he couldn't ignore.
"Do you want to sit down for a moment?" he finally asked, his voice softer than usual.
She didn't answer. But she stopped.
They were in a quiet alley, a little off the road. A wooden bench, under a pale streetlamp, creaked in the wind. She sat down without a word, and he did the same beside her.
Silence settled in again. But this time, it wasn't a comfortable silence. It was a threatening void, filled with echoes.
Y/N hugged her knees to her chest. Her face turned towards the ground. And then:
"I don't recognize him anymore."
Si-eun didn't answer.
She continued, more softly:
"Hu-min. He smiles like everything's fine. But it's not true. I saw him tonight. He's not my brother anymore. He's a ghost. And I didn't see it coming."
She bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. Her voice trembled:
"He protected me, Si-eun. I didn't know. I slept while he got dirty to keep me away. I should have fought for him."
He looked at her, his heart aching. His throat tightened. He hated seeing her like this.
"You don't sleep to escape," he said gently. "You sleep to survive."
She turned her eyes to him, surprised.
"You do what you can. Like him. You're the same."
She looked down again. A tear rolled down her cheek.
"I hate myself for it."
Si-eun inhaled slowly. His body tense, but his voice calm:
"Then I'm going to tell you something you often forget. It's not your fault."
Y/N closed her eyes.
"Yes, it is."
"No, Y/N. It's not your fault your father was violent. It's not your fault your brother sacrificed himself. And it's not your fault you care about them so much it hurts."
He turned slightly towards her. She didn't dare move.
"You think you're weak. That you're a burden. But you're still here. You've survived things that would have destroyed other people."
She hugged her arms to herself, and her voice broke:
"And you, aren't you afraid of me? Of what I am?"
He barely shrugged.
"I'm afraid you'll disappear."
That sentence did something to her. She finally turned her head towards him. And what she saw in his eyes wasn't pity. It was deeper. Sharper. A mixture of contained obsession and wild tenderness. Something that said I'm here. And I won't leave.
They stayed like that, looking at each other for a long time. As if the world around them was fading away.
Then Y/N spoke, almost in a whisper:
"When I'm with you… I don't need to pretend. No need to talk. And yet… I feel less alone."
Si-eun lowered his eyes. A part of him wanted to take her in his arms. To hold her so tight she couldn't escape. But he held back. Instead, he murmured:
"It's the same for me."
**
The cold deepened. So they started walking again.
They walked side by side, in silence, their shoulders sometimes brushing against each other. Y/N seemed a little more present. More grounded. But a new fatigue weighed on her. An emotional fatigue, deeper than sleepless nights.
They crossed a small metal bridge, their steps echoing on the rusty plates. The street wasn't very well lit. A pale light filtered through the bare branches.
And then, everything changed.
A dull, brutal roar. An engine rumble that tore through the silence. A sound too fast. Too close.
Si-eun's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out mechanically, just a glance… and that's when he saw it.
A truck.
A heavy truck, speeding, without headlights, without brakes. Heading straight for Y/N.
His heart exploded in a flash of panic. He yelled:
"Y/N!"
She didn't have time to react.
He lunged. Pure instinct. He threw his phone to the ground. His arm shot out, grabbed Y/N by the waist.
And he pushed her.
But not far enough.
The truck hit them.
A dull thud. A metallic crash. Then silence.
They flew. The world spun, turned upside down, blurred.
And everything stopped.
**
Y/N's body rolled onto the asphalt, inert. Si-eun's, further away, lay at an odd angle, his arm bleeding, his head against a post.
The wind whistled softly.
The neon signs in the distance still flickered, indifferent.
And everything sank into darkness.
---
Seoul University Hospital — Intensive Care Unit
The white ceiling pulsed gently beneath the neon lights, like a heart hesitating between beating and stopping. The sharp smell of antiseptic floated, mixed with the more subtle scent of dried blood, plastic, and anguish.
In room 407, two beds side by side. Two still bodies. Connected to machines that made the muffled sound of survivors being held back.
Y/N.
Si-eun.
Hu-min’s hands had been covered in blood when they found them.
He still remembered it. He was running, his feet slipping on the wet asphalt, his breath catching in his throat. Gotak was shouting behind him, but he wasn’t listening. He had just seen Y/N’s figure, lying in the pale light of a streetlamp. And next to her, a body. Stiff. Blood.
He had screamed.
He hadn’t remembered screaming so loudly since the last time their father had thrown a plate against the wall.
Juntae had called the ambulance. Gotak had crouched down beside Si-eun. But Hu-min hadn’t moved. He was looking at Y/N’s face. His little sister. Silent. Broken.
As if death had finally managed to catch up with her.
And he hadn’t been able to do anything.
Again.
**
He had been at the hospital for two days. He slept little. Barely ate. He spent long hours simply staring at the heart monitors, watching for the slightest sign. He spoke to no one. Even the doctors no longer dared to ask him questions.
He had sat down between the two beds. A metal chair. A wall behind him. His eyes fixed on the ceiling.
When Si-eun opened his eyes, it was first a flutter of eyelids, then a painful grimace on his face.
He moved. Slowly. Like someone returning from a long journey deep within themselves.
"Y/N…?"
His voice was hoarse. Crushed. He tried to sit up, but a groan escaped him.
Hu-min stood up abruptly, his heart pounding.
"Si-eun? You're awake? Damn… you're awake."
But the other barely looked at him. His eyes went from one wall to the other, then settled on the figure in the next bed.
"She… she is…?"
"Still in a coma," Hu-min replied in a grave voice.
Silence fell like a leaden blanket. Si-eun stared at Y/N without blinking. Her face didn't move, but her hands were trembling.
"I tried to push her."
"I know."
"I didn't make it."
"I know."
A breath. Hesitant.
"I should have… been faster."
Hu-min approached. He placed a hand on Si-eun’s shoulder, without saying a word. A simple gesture. But heavy. Full of unspoken gratitude.
Si-eun looked away. His teeth clenched.
"Why was she in the street that night? Why is she like this? Why does she… let herself drift as if she wants to disappear?"
He broke off. He couldn't speak anymore.
And Hu-min understood that this moment was coming. That he could no longer put off the truth.
So he sat down. Slowly. And spoke.
**
"She met a guy a year ago. Someone older. A literature student, I think. He had that charm… you know, the kind who speaks softly, recites poems, makes her feel seen."
"And then?"
"Then he started locking her in her own guilt."
Hu-min closed his eyes. The pain rose, thick, suffocating.
"He would self-harm. He told her it was because of her. That if he wasn't okay, it was because she didn't love him enough. That his suffering was proof of his love. And that if she left him, it would mean she was cruel. A bad person."
Si-eun froze.
"He made her feel guilty… for his own wounds?"
"Yes."
A long silence. The kind of silence that hurts.
"He broke her," Hu-min finally said. "Not with blows. But with words. He turned her insecurities against her. He dug into her weaknesses, gently, until she collapsed."
He inhaled. His fists clenched.
"And I didn't see it coming... I thought she was getting better. She was making an effort. She even smiled. But it was fake. She carried all that inside her… alone. Because she didn't want to worry me."
Si-eun looked at him, his eyes shining. He understood too well what that meant.
"She believed she had to earn love," he said slowly. "That she had to sacrifice herself to be accepted. That she had to fix broken people, even if it destroyed her."
"Yes."
The two young men looked at each other.
Si-eun looked away first. He wanted to scream, to hit something. But all he could do was grip the sheets until his knuckles turned white.
"I love her," he said in a calm, almost strange tone.
Hu-min stared at him.
"I know."
"But it's not a sweet, pretty little thing. It's not a simple love. It's a need. It's… visceral. As if I grew up to find her. As if everything in me had waited for her. Her sadness. Her silences. The way she speaks as if she doesn't want to disturb the air around her."
He began to tremble slightly.
"And it drives me crazy, because I want to save her. But I know I can't do it alone. And I don't want to become like the other one, the one who hurt her. I don't want her to think she owes me anything."
His voice broke.
"I just… want her to live."
**
Hu-min stood up slowly. He looked at Y/N. She didn't move. But her chest rose. Slowly. Weakly.
"Then you've already done more than most," he murmured. "You protected her without demanding anything. You put your body in the way of hers. And she'll remember that. When she comes back, she'll know. That you were there."
Si-eun closed his eyes. A tear rolled down his temple.
"She's going to come back, right?"
Hu-min didn't answer immediately.
Then:
"She's strong. Stronger than me. She holds on. Even in the dark. She'll find her way."
**
And in the blue light of the hospital room, two hearts beat slowly. A brother and a lover, sitting at the bedside of a girl who couldn't hear them.
But who, somewhere, far away in the darkness of her own coma, felt their presence.
And that, perhaps, was already a beginning.
---
Three weeks later
The days had blurred together. A bottomless hourglass, where the light only served to remind of the absence. Y/N had not woken up. But Si-eun had not left her bedside.
Every morning, he arrived with books. Crime novels, poetry collections, manhwas folded in half. He read aloud, even when he was sure she couldn’t hear him. He gently placed his hand on hers, as if trying to transmit a bit of human warmth.
He also talked to her. Not too loudly, just enough for her to know he was there. That she wasn’t alone. He told her about the taste of cold coffee in the cafeteria, Juntae’s nonsense, Gotak’s nervous silences, Hu-min’s dark circles. And sometimes, he shared his own thoughts, unfiltered. The regrets. The memories. The silly dreams. As if he were confiding in her his personal diary.
And even though she didn’t move, even though she didn’t speak, he felt that something was happening. A link. Silent, but real.
Hu-min also visited. Less often, lately. He had said he had "things to take care of." But in his eyes, there was something more. A fire. A decision.
And this morning, it was finally over.
***
It was a pale hour, almost silent. The sun was barely rising over the concrete rooftops. In an abandoned warehouse, somewhere near the port, four of them dragged themselves against the walls. Four bloodied silhouettes, clothes in tatters, muscles burnt out.
Baku.
Si-eun.
Gotak.
Juntae.
They didn’t need to speak. They had held on. They had won. Baek-jin was nothing more than a name to erase, a specter that would no longer have control over them.
Hu-min collapsed against a metal barrier, gasping for breath, his hands covered in blood, his eyes red. He felt as though the world had stopped. That there was nothing left to prove, nothing left to hide.
Then his phone vibrated.
An unknown number. The hospital.
He answered without thinking.
— Hello?
A soft, calm voice.
— Mr. Park Hu-min?
— Yes.
— I’m calling from the University Hospital. Your sister… she woke up.
The world stopped for a moment.
He didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t.
His heart was pounding like an alarm.
— What…?
— She’s still weak. But she woke up. She opened her eyes. She asked… "Is my brother here?"
He let out a laugh. Choked. Halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief.
— Thank you. Thank you. Thank you...
Gotak and Juntae froze. Si-eun straightened up, his face tense.
— What? What happened?
Hu-min lifted his eyes to them. And despite the blood on his face, the bruises, the crushing fatigue, he smiled.
A true smile. Rare.
— She’s awake.
No one spoke.
Then Si-eun sprang to his feet, unsteady. He barely managed to grab the edge of the wall to avoid falling again.
— Y/N?!
Hu-min nodded. His eyes shining.
— She opened her eyes. She’s waiting for us.
Without another word, they all set off.
Broken. Trembling.
But standing.
And alive.
Heading toward her.
---
The soft afternoon light barely pierced through the drawn curtains. The distant hum of machines, almost imperceptible, filled the room. The hospital, like a quiet prison, hung suspended between life and suffering.
Si-eun waited, silent. He had settled in a corner, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on Y/N’s frail figure, lying on her bed, a blanket draped over her legs. Her features had changed, as if everything about her breathed the fragility and gentleness of a return to life. She seemed lighter, closer to the stars, as if the depression that had gnawed at her for so long was, at least momentarily, behind her.
The others, Gotak, Juntae, and even Hu-min, were not far away. But no one wanted to be the first to cross that boundary. The crucial moment, the one where you know you must leave space, breathe, take your time. It was a miracle. But also a moment of absolute fragility.
And then, in an almost imperceptible breath, Y/N’s eyes opened.
She didn't remember the pain. She only remembered the void. Days, weeks where reality was nothing more than a blurry place. But there, suddenly, she could feel the light of the world penetrate her soul.
She blinked, disoriented. Then, she turned her head. She knew. She felt the familiar presence. She felt it before she heard it.
Hu-min.
He hadn't changed. He was still the same, the brother she had always loved. The man who, even in his darkest moments, had stayed there, by her side. And despite the pain that could still be read in his eyes, despite the scars that marked his soul, he was there. He was there for her.
"Y/N!" he cried, with such force that he could have knocked down the walls. A cry of relief, of pure joy. He threw himself on her, without thinking, taking her in his arms.
She smiled, weakly at first. Then a burst of laughter escaped her lips. A sincere laugh. A child's laugh. The one that used to fill their house with happiness. That laugh she had forgotten, but found again like a buried treasure.
"I… I'm here, Y/N. I'm here, don't worry. Oppa is here" he murmured, his eyes shining with tears. He caressed her hair, as he had done when she was little. An infinite tenderness, a raw, sincere, almost selfish love. Because he never wanted to lose her again.
The others were there too. Gotak and Juntae had stepped back, observing the scene with respect and a touch of awkwardness. Si-eun, for his part, couldn't even breathe anymore. His heart was beating faster. Too fast. Emotions overwhelmed him. He had seen Y/N suffer, get lost. He had seen her dark, broken, and there, before him, she was alive again.
She was there. She was breathing. She was smiling.
For him, for Hu-min, for everything he had always wanted. And yet, this scene, more than anything, gave birth in him to a sweet and fierce rage. A rage to want to protect her, to want to be the one who could save her from everything. He wanted to be the man by her side, the man she could lean on, the man who could make her smile forever.
He approached them, despite his pain. He stopped just behind Hu-min, and in an almost timid voice, he said:
"She… is she okay?"
He couldn't look at Y/N. He couldn't. He felt that if his eyes met hers, he wouldn't be able to contain everything he felt. But Hu-min then turned to him, as if inviting him into their bubble. He knew that, in a way, Si-eun was part of their family. He had understood that after everything that had happened. It was the first time he had seen him so vulnerable. Because Si-eun, all that calm, that inner strength he exuded, looked, at that moment, like a lost man. Like a man who had lost himself in a sea of feelings he no longer knew how to control.
"Yes, she's okay," Hu-min replied, with a smile that wasn't quite happy, but was that of a man finding peace again.
Y/N turned her eyes to Si-eun, almost instinctively. She stared at him for a long time. As if she sensed that depth in him, a form of pain he hid, but which she perceived perfectly.
Si-eun, slowly, moved to the bed, and leaned slightly, placing a trembling hand on the edge of the mattress.
She looked at him with an uncertain air, wondering what had driven him to stay. Why him? Why was he there?
Si-eun didn't have the courage to speak. He shook his head, a little lost, but her gaze made all the difference. He wanted to say something. To break the silence. But he couldn't. He didn't have the words.
So, in a surge of uncontrollable emotion, he leaned down slightly and placed a kiss on her forehead. A light kiss, almost like a caress, a kiss that carried all the warmth of his heart. That kiss was a promise. A silent promise. He would be there. No matter the cost.
She closed her eyes under his kiss. And, for a fraction of a second, she felt safe. She felt that presence, that warmth… He didn't need to speak. It was enough for him to be there.
But everything wasn't that simple.
***
Later, after the others had left the room to rest and tend to their wounds, Si-eun stayed. He was there, silent. He couldn't leave. He couldn't leave her.
He got up and went to the shelf. His eyes fell on an old photo of Y/N. She was a child, with round cheeks and a radiant smile. He had never seen such a sincere smile. A smile that wasn't tarnished by pain. A smile that still resembled her, despite the time.
"Was that you?" Si-eun asked, his voice soft.
Y/N joined him gently, her gaze locked on Si-eun's. She nodded.
"Yes, that was me. Before… before all this. Before I forgot everything."
He turned to her, touched. This photo represented the young girl he had always seen in his dreams, the person he had always wanted to protect. His heart ached.
"You still look a little like her," he said, his voice full of tenderness.
For the first time, Y/N felt her heart warm. It was the first time someone had spoken of her like that. Not as a victim. Not as someone broken. But as a person. A real person.
She looked at him, a slight smile on her lips.
"It's the first time anyone's spoken to me like that."
Si-eun approached, his eyes shining with emotion. He leaned down gently and caressed her face, his fingertips brushing the scratch that marked her cheek. He was hurting, but he didn't want to show it.
"Are you okay?" she asked him, her gaze worried.
He laughed softly, but his smile couldn't hide the pain in his eyes.
"Yes, it's nothing. But you… are you okay?"
She placed her hand on his face, feeling the warmth of his skin. It was her, this time, who wanted to take care of him. She gently took a small bandage and placed it on his bruised face. It was a simple gesture, but it had something significant about it. She was healing him, for the first time.
Their eyes met. Then, all of a sudden, he couldn't hold back anymore. He leaned down and, in a gesture filled with passion and affection, placed a kiss on her lips. That kiss… it was more than a declaration of love. It was the fulfillment of a dream he had kept within him for weeks. A tender kiss, almost desperate, but filled with promises.
Y/N closed her eyes under that kiss, and her heart began to beat faster. A shiver ran through her body. She felt, for the first time in a long time, a warmth, an inner peace. Something that made her feel whole, even if everything was still blurry around her.
They barely moved apart, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling.
"I'll always be here," Si-eun whispered, his voice broken with emotion.
And she, without hesitation, placed her hand over his heart.
"Me too."
And for the first time in so long, she felt at home.
Summary: what if Y/n was the one that got hit by the truck instead of Si-eun?
Warnings: kind of angsty, comforting fluff
WC:1.7k
Notes: I think it is a little rushed, but I already got a better idea in mind, ill try to upload it as soon as I can
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You and Yeon Si-eun have been friends for a little while now. You are Su-ho’s sister, always been close with him. Although you were only a year younger than them, Su-ho always tagged you along with Si-eun and Beom-seok.
You were shy around them at first but grew close to them, especially Si-eun. You could see right through him - he really needed a hug and someone that cares about him.
Su-ho would always tease Si-eun about you, telling him to not hurt you and always take care of you, even calling him brother in law to piss him off even further.
At first he hated the constant teasing, but soon realised maybe he did care a lot more about you than he should have.
At first it started with lingering stares that lasted a little too long, then studying sessions with him when you couldn’t understand certain subjects because Su-ho wouldn’t been much help.
He didn’t show it directly but he really did like helping you, quiet time together and you two being so close together when he explained the questions.
Sometimes when his dad wasn’t home you would cook him food as a thank you, inviting Su-ho from time to time.
And sometimes when he was focused on his own work he would suddenly hear your breathing change - you would fall asleep. At moments like these he would gently tuck you into his own bed, texting your brother you fell asleep and would be staying the night. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he would definitely crack a smile at the sight of you, peacefully sleeping in his bed.
You always felt bad when you would wake up in his comfy and warm bed while he slept on the couch.
You would always scold them for getting into fights, helping them with the wounds, cuts and bruises. You would always feel sorry for them. But never Beom-seok. As well as you could see right through Si-eun, you always had a gut feeling Beom-seok wasn’t as nice.
And after the incident, you broke. After you heard what happened to Su-ho you ran straight to the hospital.
You opened the door, tears already falling down your cheeks. Si-eun was already sitting there, you could see how broken he was.
He almost thought you were gonna be mad at him, for not coming to him in time. But how could you be mad at him?
He stood up, now fully facing you as you walked over to him, sobbing.
“Y/n” he said just above a whisper “I’m sorry” he felt his eyes watering, a hot tear streaming down his cheek.
You looked up at him, “Si-eun why are you sorry?” “None of this is your fault” you continued crying, suddenly feeling warm hands around you. “He’s going to be okay” he tried to reassure you, not even sure himself if his friend will really be okay.
You both stayed the night at the hospital, you falling asleep on Si-eun, staining his shirt with your tears. He woke up before you, slowly getting up and putting his blazer on you. Even with your eyes closed he could see how swollen and puffy they were from crying.
As he stood beside you, he gently brushed your hair out of your face with his delicate fingers, observing you. He always has been an observer.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
And well after him beating up Woo-young and Beom-seok, he needed to move to Eunjang high school. In his mind he did that for Su-ho and you. You cried in his arms once again. And he let you.
Eunjang was further away from your current school, which is closer to Si-eun’s old one. But that didn’t stop you from visiting him as often as you could. Sometimes even taking a taxi to his home late at night when he couldn’t fall asleep.
The sleeping pills didn’t work, but you sleeping next to him did. You started seeing him more than a friend a while ago, but never saying anything since you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had.
You could see that Si-eun was still having a hard time in school, getting into fights again. You would always patch him up, like you used to.
His mom didn’t mind having you around, she could see you had a good impact on her son. When Si-eun’s friends spotted you two together walking home, the teasing started all over again.
Si-eun never stopped blaming himself for what happened, but you always reassured him it was most certainly not his fault.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
It was late already and you were heading home, worried about Si-eun. He told you what has been happening in school and it made you so anxious. You felt your phone buzz, picking it up.
“Hello, is this Y/n, Ahn Su-ho’s sister?” you were confused for a second. “Yes?” you answered, eager to get home faster so you could go check up on Si-eun.
“Im calling from Sungang University hospital, i couldn’t reach anyone else but you, your brother is in critical condition, is there anyone who could come right away?” You stood in the middle of the crosswalk, frozen.
You felt tears swelling up “..huh?” you said, still frozen in shock as you look up to a truck driving. Everything went black.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Si-eun got the heart wrenching phone call. You were in the hospital, Su-ho in critical condition. He dropped everything he was doing, not waisting any time, running as fast as his legs could go. He couldn’t lose you as well. He wouldn’t ever forgive himself.
As he stepped into your room, machines connected to your body, he was fuming with anger. Angry with himself, if he was there, with you this wouldn’t have happened.
He checked up on you and Su-ho, and finding out Su-ho was doing better he went back to your room. He stayed there by your side till morning, falling asleep to the beeping sounds.
You were moved to another room in the morning, only an oxygen mask and a heart monitor connected now. Hu-min, Hyun-tak, Jun-tae as well as your grandmother came in to check on you during the day. Si-eun needed to go back to deal with Beak-jin but he couldn’t bring himself to leave you like this.
The sun started to go down and he was still worried as ever. His eyes were on you, all day and night.
He was now alone with his thoughts, thinking about all the times you were there for him. He couldn’t thank you enough for that. He felt guilty for putting you through so much worry, you always checking up on him, always coming over to cheer him up the best you could.
He felt you shift on the bed, hand reaching for the mask on your face, trying to take it off. Your eyes landed on Si-eun, not even thinking you started smiling to yourself, he really cares about you, doesn’t he? He stood up.
Suddenly your smile dropped as a sat up, stinging pain appearing in your head. You whined at the pain. “Y/n, lay down” he said, but you didn’t move. “Is he okay..?” you asked with furred eyebrows, eyes looking at Si-eun with concern. “He’s okay now, don’t worry” he somewhat smiled at you.
You loved it when he smiled at you, it showed how he cared about you. And right now he looked so cute with messy hair, standing and looking at you.
But suddenly you can see tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as he watched you. “huh, Si-eun is everything okay?” you asked. “Y/n I can’t lose you, not after what happened to Su-ho” he sat down, looking at your expression.
You didn’t want him to worry about you, he already worried about enough things, you couldn’t make it even harder for him than it already is.
“Si-eun” you spoke, throat dry. “Hm?” he replied, raising and eyebrow. “Come here” you said, moving more to the edge so there was somewhat space in this small bed.
He stood there for a second. “I said come here, please?” you asked. He slowly got in bed with you, looking at your delicate face. “Si-eun I’m fine, nothing will happen to me” you explained, knowing he probably was blaming himself for what happened to you.
Your faces so close you could hear his light breathing. You reached your hand to his face, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “Si-eun did you know how pretty you are” you say, barely awake, whole body aching, your hand going back to your side.
He stiffened in shock, not knowing what to do, he never really knew what to say in situations like these. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew what to do. His hand was on your cheek, caressing it, slowly bringing his face to yours, just millimetres away.
Your heart was beating now faster, the beeping on the screen going faster, making you a bit embarrassed. He closed the gap, his chapped lips coming in contact with yours.
You both broke the kiss, him surprised at his actions. You smiled at him, bringing him closer, hugging him and resting your head on his chest. “Can you please stay with me for tonight?” you asked, now eyes closed.
He relaxed a bit, not replying. “Y/n..” he said, looking up at the ceiling, bringing his hand over your torso, hugging you lightly. “Hm?” you hummed, listening to his heart beat.
“I think.. I think I’m in love with you” he said, cracking the smallest smile, you couldn’t see it, but you could tell by the way he said it.
You stiffened up, but relaxing seconds later, hugging him harder. “I love you too, Si-eun” you replied, almost in a whisper. “Please never scare me like this again” he asked, closing his eyes and bringing you even closer to him, hugging you harder, like he never wanted to let go and protect you from all the horrors in this world.
helloo ! sorry to bother u but can you make a whc fluff of reader having an injury ( like a broken leg perhaps ? ) and how the boys would take care of them ? thank u so much !
───〃★ treacherous doctor | weak hero boys x gn! injured reader
♪ now playing: treacherous doctor - wallows ♫
Warnings: Blood, language, fluff
Word count: 2.5k
Featuring: Yeon Si-eun, Ahn Su-ho, Seo Jun-tae Go Hyun-tak, Park Hu-min, Geum Seong-je, Na Baek-jin
Note: Never be sorry for "bothering me". Ily guys. + I had a similar anonymous request, so I made a two in one :)
masterlist whc masterlist rules
ᯓ★ Yeon Si-eun broken leg
⭑ Si-eun notices there's something wrong before you even say anything about it.
⭑ If the two of you are close, he'll immediately bring it up, asking if you're alright in that quiet tone of his.
⭑ He's worried, knowing that most people he cares for end up getting hurt by his enemies, but once he finds out it was an injury from an accident, he settles down.
Si-eun's eyes avert from his textbook when he notices you walk into the classroom with a set of crutches.
"Are you okay?" Si-eun asks quietly, staring up at you from his seat. "What happened?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." You stop in front of him, shifting all of your weight on your good leg.
"I'm...sorry." he apologizes quietly, eyes zeroing in on your broken leg.
You tilt your head, confused. "Why're you sorry?"
Si-eun's gaze lifts back up to you, scanning you in a calculating manner. Si-eun tries to figure you out without having to ask.
"It's my fault you're hurt, like last time." his hand clenches onto the pen he was holding. "This is why I told you to stay away."
You're puzzled, trying to piece together how Si-eun could possibly be related to you falling down the stairs and breaking your leg, until it finally clicks. He thinks you got hurt through association.
"Oh, no! That's not it at all!" you quickly dismiss his earlier assumption. "I fell down the stairs and hurt my leg. It's not you, Si-eun."
Si-eun is physically dumbfounded, as seen on his face. The poor boy has gone through so much trauma that he can't help but think everything is his fault.
⭑ Si-eun's way of taking care of you includes a lot of commands. "Don't move", "keep your leg elevated, "sit down, I'll get it for you".
⭑ He will get you whatever you need from the store if you ask.
⭑ He will scold you and get irritated if you're constantly going against him. He will let out the deepest sigh from the depths of his soul when he comes back into your room to see you out of bed.
⭑ Takes advantage of your bedridden injury and forces you to get school work done since you really don't have anything else important to be doing.
ᯓ★ Ahn Su-ho busted lip
⭑ When Su-ho notices your split lip, there's immediate anger. His first assumption was that someone had hit you.
⭑ Su-ho is usually very laid-back, but seeing that you're hurt in any way worries him greatly. You've never seen him so pissed off before.
⭑ He inspects every area of your face, continuously asking who did that to you.
⭑ When you tell him it was an accident and that you busted your lip when you fell, he immediately chills out, acting like he wasn't on the verge of a crash out.
"What happened to your face?" You didn't get a chance to properly enter the classroom when Su-ho was already in front of you.
His hand flies to your chin, tilting it upwards to inspect the wound.
"Damn it..." he grunts.
"It looks worse than it actually is," you try to calm him down.
"Who hit you?" he drops his hand, staring down at you with a fiery intensity in his eyes that demands to know who put their hands on you.
"Su-ho, I'm fin-"
"Who was it?"
You started to get annoyed. He wasn't taking the time to listen to your explanation because he was so sure someone laid their hands on you.
“Nobody hit me.”
He scoffs. “Mhm.” That was not the response of someone who believes you.
You fight back a blush threatening to form on your face, embarrassed. “I was walking up the stairs and missed a step. I tripped and... I fell on my face.
His eyes narrow slightly. "You fell on your face?"
You nod, not wanting to speak about the unfortunate event any further. He stares back for another second before loosening his grip a little, slowly rubbing your arms.
“…That’s... embarrassing,” he mutters.
“You thought someone punched me.”
He shakes his head, as if offended. “I didn’t say that.”
“You literally asked who hit me.” You try to sneer, but the cut on your lip only amplifies the pain by nearly a tenfold.
“See?” he says, suddenly gentler. “Stop moving it.”
He reaches over the table and grabs his bag, where he keeps his belongings. He seemed to carry around an ointment, which isn't much of a surprise considering the escalation of physical fights he's been getting into ever since he started hanging around Yeon Si-eun.
“You’re lucky it wasn't worse," he warns, squeezing the ointment on his thumb and gently rubbing it against your wounded lip. "You could've broken something."
“I know.”
“And maybe watch where you’re going next time?" he sighs, rubbing the excess on his pants. "Seriously, getting to class can't be that exciting."
⭑ He continues to nag you about not watching where you were going.
⭑ Continuously checks on the state of your wound, making sure you don't bother it.
⭑ If your wound keeps re-opening, forcing him to continue placing the ointment on it, he demands that you pay for another tube (jokingly).
ᯓ★ Seo Jun-tae scraped knee
⭑ The two of you are walking home together after school when you stumble and fall, scraping your knee. It's bleeding, causing you great pain.
⭑Jun-tae initially panics, startled by how much your knee was bleeding.
⭑Being Jun-tae, he, of course, already had supplies in his bag. Not only because he knows to always carry necessities in case of an emergency, but because he has to treat his own wounds from time to time, being a victim of bullying.
"Ah!" Jun-tae exclaims in surprise as he witnesses you fall, landing on your knees.
You wince, slowly getting up and sitting on the curb as you examine the wound. It was nasty. Your skin had scraped off, bleeding and forming blisters.
"Oh, wait—hold on!" his hands scramble to pull his bag off of his shoulders.
Jun-tae sits next to you, quickly shuffling through items before finally pulling out Neosporin ointment and a band-aid. He pulls out a tissue from his tiny tissue package.
"Can I...?" Jun-tae asks softly, slowly raising the tissue towards your scrape.
When you nod, he gently wipes away the blood.
"This might hurt," he warns, focusing as he gently dabs the Neosporin ointment onto your wound.
You wince, grinding your teeth.
"Sorry...!" he quickly apologizes, but knows this is how to help you, so he applies more.
He seals it up with the bandage, making sure to collect all of the trash.
"How do you feel?" he asks, in which you just smile.
"Much better. Thank you, Jun-tae."
⭑ Continuously asks how you feel as the two of you carry on your walk home.
⭑ Still worried about you despite cleaning your wound.
⭑ Tells you to be more careful next time. Even if you aren't, he'll be there to help you.
ᯓ★ Go Hyun-tak injured knee
⭑ Much like Su-ho, he's immediately irritated that you're hurt.
⭑ If it was an accident, he's pestering you. If someone hurt you, it wouldn't be long before he was out the door, jumping whoever did that to you.
"What the hell happened to you?!" Hyun-tak asks, immediately all up in your face when you walk in with a limp.
He looks you up and down before pointing to a nearby chair.
"Sit down." he demands, in which you don't really have a choice but to listen.
He assesses your injury and sees you've hurt your knee. His jaw clenches, trying to regulate his temper.
"Who did this to you?" he asks under his breath.
"It was Hyo-man again."
You didn't get to say another word before he was up and out of the room.
⭑ When Hyun-tak takes care of you, he's quite annoying. He nags at you when you're moving around when you're supposed to be resting.
⭑ He'll carry your bag for you when the two of you are walking home. Also walks slower, so he's not leaving you in the dust.
⭑ Gets you lunch at school so you don't have to get up.
⭑ He's been there before, so he tries to spend every moment with you, knowing how lonely it felt dealing with the pain alone.
ᯓ★ Park Hu-min dislocated shoulder
⭑ Hu-min is a very unserious and happy person, so you're surprised by how serious he got when you showed up in the club room with obvious pain displayed on your face.
⭑ At first, he thought you were being dramatic until you moved your arm wrong and let out a sound of discomfort.
"You look awful." Hu-min says it automatically while walking over, still half-smiling. Then he notices the way you’re clutching your shoulder. His smile drops almost immediately.
“…Oh. Wait.”
You try straightening up, but pain shoots through your shoulder hard enough that your expression twists before you can hide it. Hu-min noticed your face instantly.
“Okay, nope. Don’t do that.”
Once in a blue moon, there’s no teasing in his voice. He moves beside you quickly, one hand hovering near your back while he looks carefully at the way your shoulder sits unevenly.
“Is it dislocated?”
“I think so.”
“Yeah, that’s disgusting.”
He moves something that lets out a pop.
“There you go,” he says immediately, quieter now. “Keep doing that instead of panicking.”
Even while joking, he’s already helping support your arm carefully so it stops pulling painfully against the joint. The second time he moves something, it actually hurts. You give him an annoyed look.
“Sorry. Sorry.”
He adjusts your arm position slower this time, but it still hurts like hell. You breathe out shakily, trying not to move it too much. Hu-min notices your hand trembling and lightly bumps his shoulder against yours.
“Hey,” he says. “You’re okay.”
“…Still super weird-looking, though.”
⭑ He keeps talking about random stuff, hoping it'll distract you from the pain.
⭑ Also carries your bag for you.
⭑ Visits your home to help you out with chores you no longer have the ability to do.
ᯓ★ Geum Seong-je sprained ankle
⭑ He thought it was a little funny at first.
⭑ Your whining and curses were amusing until you tried to get up and walk. You were genuinely struggling.
⭑ He wasn't going to make a big deal out of it until you tripped and nearly fell on your face. He caught you, obviously.
“You're walking like an old man.”
Seong-je sounds genuinely entertained while watching you limp toward him.
“Can you shut up?” you curse at him under your breath.
“Oh, so it’s serious.”
You try taking another step and instantly regret it when pain shoots through your ankle hard enough to throw off your balance. Before you can fully stumble, Seong-je catches your arm.
“…Damn. You actually hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, obviously.” His tone carries heavy sarcasm, but he still keeps a hand on your arm while looking down at your ankle. It was badly swollen.
"What the hell did you do?" he kneels down, looking at it. “You’re not walking on that.”
“I literally am right now.”
“Barely,” he says as he stands back up. "You're walking like you have shit up your ass."
You snatch your arm away, trying to prove a point by walking away, just to yelp in pain when you put too much weight on your swollen ankle.
Seong-je stares at you for one long second before sighing dramatically.
“You’re annoying.”
Then he grabs your bag right off your shoulder.
“Sit down before you break the other one too.”
Despite the insults, he guides you toward somewhere to sit, staying close enough that you can lean against him if your balance slips again.
“You know this ruins my image too, right?”
You blink. “How?”
“If people see me hanging around you when you're like this, it reflects badly on me.”
You snort despite your annoyance. Seong-je smirks slightly, clearly satisfied he got you distracted for a second. But even while joking, his hand stays lightly around your ankle to stop you from moving it wrong again. He's been hurt many times during fights, and he cares about you. He doesn't want you in pain.
⭑ He keeps making jokes about your predicament.
⭑ Calls you nicknames. "Trip McGee", "Hoppy"
⭑ Sent you a meme on iMessage, "I Broke My Ankle And All I Got To Show For It Was A Big Ass Forehead".
⭑ He never says he's concerned, but he'll do little things for you like bring you whatever takeout he's eating, bring you your cravings when you're immobilized, carry your bag.
ᯓ★ Na Baek-jin concussion
⭑ When you hit your head, Baek-jin let out a sigh that came from deep inside his chest.
⭑ His day already wasn't going according to plan, and now you're injured?
“Look at me.”
Baek-jin crouches slightly in front of you, eyes fixed on your face while you try to blink away the dizziness.
“How many fingers?” he holds up a set of fingers.
“…Two.”
“It’s three.”
“I’m okay,” you mumble automatically. "Just a little bump."
“No, you’re confused.
You try standing anyway, only for your balance to tilt sideways immediately.
Baek-jin catches your shoulder before you can fall again.
“Sit down.”
“I can walk.” you argue.
“You almost fell standing still.”
You immediately sat back down. Seong-mok and Dong-ha walked in after being called in for a check-in, but Baek-jin doesn’t even look at them.
"Get out."
Baek-jin ordered the two, in which they looked confused before leaving without a word.
“Headache?”
“Mhm." you hum.
Baek-jin sighs, blinking once. "Use your words."
"Yes." you fix.
“Nauseous?”
“Just a little bit.”
His jaw tightens slightly before he exhales quietly through his nose. “Don’t fall asleep.”
You glance at him weakly. “Bossy.”
“Bossy?” he asks flatly. “You hit your head. You don't have the privilege to make choices for yourself."
⭑ He keeps you awake, not letting you close your eyes once. You shut them briefly, telling him you were just "resting your eyes" and he got mad. It's safe to say you were too scared to even blink.
⭑ Tells you not to let it happen again.
⭑ Checks your symptoms over time to see how you're doing.
⭑ Baek-jin is already a quiet individual, so his office is where you spend most of your time since it's quiet and theres no sound to add onto the concussion.
⭑ However, if the union members in the bowling alley are being too loud, he'll silence them for you.
summary : sieun spent his days watching life from the sidelines, content with having nothing to lose. That’s until you arrived, and suddenly, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing the one thing that made him feel alive.
a/n : i highly recommend to listen to "sidelines" by Phoebe Bridges while reading this xx (if you’ve read my fanfic “unspoken”, you can consider this one as a beginning of their love story!)
—
You weren’t exactly excited to start another school day at Eunjang High. It wasn’t like anyone looked forward to it, but at least most people here had their little groups, their cliques, their drama. You didn’t.
Not even because you were shy, just selective.
It was easier to stay out of things when most of your classmates had their hands in something shady, fights, trouble, things you didn’t want to be wrapped up in. Most people were either too loud, too aggressive, or just... not your kind of company. You kept to yourself. And you were fine with that.
But today, your peace was interrupted when you stepped into class, early enough to avoid the hall crowd, only to find someone sitting at your desk.
You paused mid-step, pulling out one of your earphones.
The guy had his head down, arms folded like he’d been asleep there all night. He didn’t even flinch at the sound of the door.
You narrowed your eyes slightly. About to speak up when you caught a few murmurs behind you.
“Apparently he’s a genius.”
“Huh? Then why transfer here?”
“I heard he killed someone.”
You glanced sideways. The source of the whispers - two guys known for making up multiple rumours - caught your eye and quickly looked away, pretending they weren’t just gossiping two feet away from you.
You sighed and walked toward your desk. You weren’t superstitious, and you weren’t about to get into a rumor spiral on a Monday morning.
You reached the desk, second row from the back, and gently tapped the guy on the shoulder.
Nothing. So you leaned down a bit. “Hey.”
Finally, he stirred. Slowly, as if gravity worked harder on him than the rest of the world. His head lifted just enough for you to see his sharp half-lidded eyes.
You kept your voice neutral. “This is my desk.”
He blinked at you once.
Then looked away.
Then laid his head back down.
You stood there, frowning. Not because he ignored you, exactly - more because you had no idea what kind of interaction just happened.
After a second, you simply sighed and nodded to yourself, grabbing your bag to sit in the desk directly in front of him. It’s not like it was worth to pick a fight for a desk.
You put your earphones back in and was about to pull out your notebook to study some more material before the teacher comes, when you realised you had left it in the drawer of your desk.
You exhaled through your nose, already annoyed by that out of ordinary Monday and pulled out one earbud again before leaning back just enough to tap on his arm a second time. Maybe a little firmer this time.
This time, he didn’t lift his head, but you heard a faint sigh escape him.
You blinked, unimpressed.
“Okay?” you muttered, voice just loud enough for him to hear, “You’re the one who stole my desk? I just need the notebook inside it.”
He shifted slightly, slow and clearly reluctant, but eventually lifted his head just a little to lazily reach toward the drawer beneath the desk for your notebook.
His fingers brushed over the inside surface, then paused. Nothing. He glanced inside with a sliver more interest this time, hand searching again. Still nothing.
You narrowed your eyes, shifting your weight to one leg. “Move a sec.” you said, not exactly aggressive, just impatient.
You stepped forward and leaned down next to him, resting one hand on the edge of the desk for balance, your other brushing a few stray pens aside as you peered into the drawer yourself. He stiffened a little at how close you were standing, your presence very much in his personal space.
You leaned further, your hair nearly brushing his shoulder, lips slightly parted in thought as you scanned the empty drawer.
You clicked your tongue. “I swear I left it here-”
You paused, then smacked your forehead lightly. “Wait. No. No, I left it on my bookshelf.” You sighed and straightened up with a dramatic groan, brushing off your skirt and glancing at him for the first time.
And that’s when your eyes met.
He was already staring at you. Not startled, not nervous—just watching. Quietly. Unreadable.
You meant to say something, maybe a thanks or a joke, but the words kind of stuck for a second.
Because now that you were actually looking at him, really looking, he wasn’t quite what you’d expected.
That was the first time you actually saw his features.
His features were oddly soft, despite the deadpan expression. His eyes weren’t cold like you expected. They were wide and dark, kind of doe-like beneath the messy fringe of his hair. His skin was annoyingly clear, and his lips were full and soft-looking.
You blinked.
He blinked back.
Then, clearing your throat, you took a step back, “Right. My bad.” you said flatly, waving your notebook-less hand in a vague gesture before returning to your new desk in front of him.
No reply. Just quiet breathing and the faint creak of him shifting in his seat again, lowering his head on his arms.
You slipped your earphones back in and leaned your cheek against your fist, trying to get back into the zone. But the silence behind you felt just a little different now.
Sieun stared at you a few more seconds before diving back into the arms of Morpheus, trying to stay unbothered by your sudden approaches.
He wasn't used to being noticed, not necessarily in the shy kind of way, more like he just didn't care to step into the spotlight. People were messy, unpredictable and often crossed lines that were then hard to redraw.
So he watched from the sidelines, kept his head down and slept through the noise. It was easier this way.
That same evening, you were leaving the school’s library later than usual. Finals were creeping closer, and you had more materials to catch up on than you liked to admit. The sun had already dipped below the buildings, and the streetlights had flickered on in their usual lazy rhythm.
That’s when you saw him.
Sieun, earphones in, hoodie on, hands stuffed in his pockets, walking a few paces ahead on the empty sidewalk. You weren’t even sure it was him at first, but the way he dragged his steps, the slight slump of his shoulders… yeah, that was definitely him.
Your brain told you to just go home but your feet moved before you could think twice about it. You picked up pace, caught up to him, and gently tapped his shoulder.
He turned, a little startled, pulling one earbud out. His expression shifted the second he saw it was you, eyebrows lifting slightly, not quite a smile, but something softer than his usual stoic.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice low but not unfriendly.
You grinned. “Following you, obviously.”
His eyes widened, not dramatically, but enough to make you laugh, glancing away sheepishly before adding, “I was just heading home from the library.”
You fell into step beside him, talking like it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t put his earbuds back in either.
A few minutes later, you passed the small family-run restaurant you’ve gone to since you were a kid.
“I’m starving,” you said, already slowing your pace. “I’m eating here.”
He nodded slightly, like he was about to walk away.
But before he could, you slipped your arm around his—lightly, barely more than a hook—and guided him toward the door. He didn’t resist, but you felt him stiffen slightly, eyes glued to where your arms touched.
You greeted the older lady at the counter with your usual grin. She lit up at the sight of you and already began preparing your usual.
“Double it this time!” you called before heading toward your usual table and finally letting go of Sieun’s arm.
You sat down, still smiling, still talking about how your teacher gave a three-page worksheet for fun. But mid-sentence, you noticed him—still standing, his expression unreadable.
“I should go.” he said suddenly.
You blinked. “What?”
He shifted on his feet. “Thanks, but I have to go home.”
You frowned. “The food’s good, I swear. You’ll regret it!”
Sieun let out a soft sigh. Not annoyed, not angry, just tired.
“I don’t know why you’re like this,” he said quietly. “But I’m not looking to make friends.”
It wasn’t harsh. Just matter-of-fact. Like he was trying to set a boundary that even he wasn’t fully convinced of.
Your smile faltered, just for a second. You nodded slowly, but instead of pushing back, you just looked at him with a quiet calm.
“I didn’t say I was trying to be your friend,” you said, voice light, but steadier than before. “I just didn’t wanna eat alone.”
He stared at you a beat longer. Then another.
And then, slowly, wordlessly, he pulled out the chair across from you and sat down.
You didn’t say anything for a few minutes as you noticed his small glances toward the door and the tension still clinging to his shoulders. But then you slowly started talking about a new story of yours, not expecting a response anymore, just making him comfortable in your company.
He didn’t laugh. But he listened. You could tell from the way his eyes would twitch at certain points, or how he shifted ever so slightly when something you said caught him off guard.
Then the food came, steaming bowls, a dozen tiny plates with pickled radishes and crispy kimchi, all warm and familiar.
You looked at him. He didn’t move. He just stared at the tray like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.
Without a word, you picked up your chopsticks and reached across his tray, placing a few of your favorite side dishes on top of his white rice. Nothing dramatic, nothing too much—just a quiet gesture. You didn’t say anything, just went back to eating your own meal, eyes on your bowl, giving him space to catch up.
For a moment, he didn’t move. And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he picked up his chopsticks. You didn’t look up, but from the corner of your eye, you saw him take a small bite of the rice you topped, chew, and swallow.
You smiled. Soft and barely-there.
He didn’t say a word. Neither did you. The restaurant filled the silence for you—soft clinks of metal bowls, the faint hum of an old TV in the back, the quiet muttering of the older lady behind the counter.
But for the first time in a long time, Sieun didn’t feel like he needed to leave right away. He didn’t feel the itch in his spine to retreat. He just stayed. Ate. Sat across from someone who didn’t expect him to be more than what he could offer.
That evening didn’t change everything. He didn’t suddenly start texting first or waiting outside classrooms like some eager cliché. He still kept to himself, still stayed quiet, still lived on the edge of everyone’s world. But somehow, you started to slip into his orbit without asking permission.
The classroom was half full when he walked in, earpods tucked in, expression unreadable. Same as always. But when he sat down, he noticed it.
A small pack of vitamin gummies on his desk. The same kind you were chewing the other day in the restaurant.
He stared at it. Then at you—already seated in front of him, pretending very obviously to tie your shoelace even though both shoes were still on.
You peeked back at him. “You gonna eat them or just burn a hole through the wrapper?”
He blinked once, slow. “You put this here?”
“Do you see anyone else giving you stuff to take care of your immune system?”
Silence. Then, Sieun reached out, slowly picked up the pack, and tucked it into his pencil case, avoiding your gaze.
Later that week, you caught up to him just after last period ended, your steps quick against the linoleum.
“Hey, wait up!” you called.
He didn’t. Not really. But he didn’t speed either which was new.
You fell into step beside him, out of breath. “You walk like someone’s chasing you.”
“I am.” he said without thinking.
You blinked. “Huh?”
Sieun didn’t reply. You tilted your head.
“That was... was that a joke?” you asked.
He stayed silent. The corner of your mouth twitched.
“I didn’t think you could do that!” You exclaimed, smiling excitedly.
Still no response. But the way he turned his face slightly toward the window told you he was hiding something. Perhaps the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
The next shift in your dynamic happened by accident.
You were sitting under the small pavilion just outside the school gate, waiting for the rain to calm down. Most students had already left, but you’d forgotten an umbrella.
Sieun, earbuds in, walked past, only to stop halfway down the steps when he saw you. You waved your phone in the air. “No signal. Can’t even call for a ride.”
He stood there for a beat, then slowly walked back. Opened his umbrella.
You blinked. “Wait, are you—?”
“Come on,” he said, eyes not meeting yours.
You stood quickly, scrambling over, squeezing under the small umbrella with him. “It’s gonna be a tight fit.”
“Then walk fast.”
You were halfway down the block when you looked up at him. “I’ll pay you back for this heroic rescue. One day.”
“You already did.”
“What? When?”
“The food. That night.”
“Didn’t think it was that special.” You chuckled.
“You’re the first person who took me out to eat something.” He admitted, his grip on the umbrella handle tightening slightly. “So it felt special to me.”
And in that moment—feet splashing in puddles, your shoulder brushing his, raindrops ticking against plastic—you realized the hard walls Sieun has been building up so hard throughout his entire life, were finally starting to fall apart.
The following week, you didn’t appear at school on Tuesday. At first, Sieun thought maybe you were just late. But class started. Then lunch passed. Then the final bell rang.
No teasing pokes to his ribs. No gummy vitamins tossed onto his desk. No sudden voice asking if he'd finally figured out how to smile.
And yet the silence was louder than anything you ever said.
He found himself packing his bag slower than usual. He kept glancing at your empty desk as though you’d come sprinting in, out of breath, waving some excuse and asking if he missed you too.
He didn’t.
But maybe he did.
By the time he left the school building, his hands were already fishing out his phone. The screen glared back at him in the soft evening light, showing your last five messages, each one as chaotic and cluttered as your speech.
He’d replied, once. “You’re dramatic.” to which you replied with an offended sticker.
This time, for the first time, he typed first:
“You were absent today.”
He stared at the screen, thumb hovering, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to send as he wasn’t the best with words.
Then, his phone rang. He answered fast, too fast, maybe. But he wasn’t met with your voice.
“Hello? Is this… Sieun?”
He frowned slightly. “Yes?”
“I’m Y/N’s mom. I found her phone. I figured someone named Sieun would probably wonder since she’s been in the hospital since this morning…”
His world stilled. The word echoed, too loud in his ears. Hospital.
“What hospital?”
Y/N’s mom didn’t even have the time to explain what happened before Sieun hung up the call with trembling fingers. His brain couldn’t even process her tone or phrasing, the only word that rang loud in his head was hospital.
He ran.
Ran past the gates of Eunjang, past busy streets and honking cars, ignoring the burn in his lungs and the ache in his legs.
When he reached the hospital, sweat sticking to the back of his neck and breath shallow, he didn’t stop to think about how crazy he must’ve looked. He walked up to the front desk with shaking hands, giving your name, waiting while they looked it up. His heart drummed against his ribs like a warning.
Room 207.
He made his way there, steps slowing the closer he got. The quiet of the hospital hallways made the tension worse.
When he stood in front of the door, his hand hovered over the handle. He wasn’t even sure what he’d say, or if he even should be here.
But he opened it anyway.
And there you were.
Laying down on the narrow hospital bed, eyes closed, IV hooked up to your arm. Your lips were parted in soft breaths, a blanket pulled up to your chest, your hair a bit messier than usual.
Sieun’s breath hitched. His feet locked in place.
He’d never seen you like this. Still. Quiet.
You always filled every space you walked into with noise, movement, warmth — and now you were just… still.
His chest tightened so hard it hurt.
Then, your brow furrowed and you let out a soft groan, shifting under the blanket. You stretched with a whiny noise, eyes fluttering open.
You flinched when you saw someone standing there.
Then smiled. “Hey!” you exclaimed, rubbing your eyes, “you scared the hell out of me. You look like a ghost.”
But the moment you registered his expression, not angry, not sarcastic, just scared, your smile slowly fell.
“…Sieun?”
He didn’t speak. He just stared.
You blinked. “Oh, right. Okay. I’m fine, I promise. I just fainted this morning because apparently I overworked myself. No sleep, too much coffee, etc.” You waved a hand. “They gave me some IVs, made me nap for hours, and now I’m fine. Look.” You stretched your arms up and wiggled your fingers. “Alive and functioning.”
But Sieun didn’t respond right away.
He walked closer slowly, eyes never leaving your face.
Then, finally, he spoke, his voice low, hoarse, like it got lost somewhere on the way there.
“I thought something happened to you.”
A long silence.
You softened, your lips parting. “I’m really okay. You didn’t have to run all the way here.”
“I did.” he snapped.
You stared at him.
Not because he snapped. But because it wasn’t like him to raise his voice, not even like that. It wasn’t loud, not really. But it was shaken.
“Sit for a minute.” you said softly, patting the chair next to your bed.
Sieun hesitated, his eyes flickering to the seat in the corner of the room, but finally he let out a long sigh and settled on the chair next to the bed — not quite next to you, but closer than he’d usually get.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, watching him. “Didn’t mean to worry you like that. I swear, I’m fine now. Just… a bit dramatic with the whole fainting thing.”
He didn’t answer at first. Just sat there, hands on his knees, gaze fixed on the IV line as if it offended him.
You tilted your head. “Are you mad at me?”
“No.” he muttered.
“…You sure?”
He nodded once.
But you weren’t convinced.
“You know you didn’t have to come here.” you added carefully.
“I know.”
“…But I’m glad you did.”
Finally, that got his attention. He turned slightly, eyes meeting yours. They looked tired, not physically, but something heavier.
“I wasn’t gonna come.” he said after a pause, voice low.
“Wow, thanks!” you teased gently, hoping to ease whatever tension was still coiled in him.
But he didn’t even crack a smirk.
“I wasn’t gonna come,” he repeated, “but the second I heard the word hospital, I just… moved.”
You blinked, surprised at how honest he sounded.
“I’ve never—” He paused. “I’ve never ran for anyone.”
You opened your mouth, then closed it.
“I didn’t think I cared that much,” he finished quietly. “But I do.”
The room fell still.
You didn’t know what to say. You always teased him for being unbothered, unreadable, cold even. But now — now he was just a boy who didn’t know what to do with a feeling that showed up without warning.
You reached out, lightly tapping his knee with your fingers. “Well… you care,” you said softly. “And that’s kinda nice to know.”
He looked at your hand. Then at you.
You smiled. “Even if it took a hospital bed to get you to admit it.”
That earned the tiniest huff from him — not a laugh, not really, but close. A slight release of breath through his nose. For Sieun, that was basically a chuckle.
You leaned back into your pillow, watching him.
He didn’t move. Just stayed there, hand still clenched, like he didn’t know how to unwind from the day’s weight.
“Want me to scoot over?” you offered, patting the mattress.
He blinked at you like you were insane.
You snorted. “I’m kidding! … Unless?”
He shook his head, but you swore the corners of his mouth twitched.
You reached for your water bottle, took a sip, then tilted your head toward him. “You can stay a bit, if you want.”
“…Yeah,” he said after a long beat. “Okay.”
And just like that, the silence between you shifted — from tense to comfortable. And Sieun stayed.
Not because he had to.
But because he wanted to.
He sat there with his hands resting on his knees, eyes finally steady, no longer darting or restless. For the first time in a while, his mind wasn’t busy with numbers, deadlines, or that pressure to be something. It was just you. The sound of your voice, the faint beep of the IV machine, and the soft pull in his chest that he didn’t want to shake off.
All this time, he’d been watching the world from the sidelines — moving through it without ever really touching it.
But then you came into his life.
And now, for the first time… he wanted to know what it felt like — to want to stay.
homework and heart | yeon sieun x neighbour!reader
summary: yeon sieun is just trying to get through a study session without losing his sanity, but his lifelong neighbor makes that impossible—armed with sarcasm, zero personal space boundaries, and a habit of falling asleep on his arm mid-math problem. they argue like enemies, act like friends, and care like something they won’t admit.
author's note: i just know sieun would treat his girl like a delicate flower. everything about him (apart from his psycho tendencies) screams gentleman. the reader is sort of a tsundere or something. wrote this while listening to [ My Love Mine All mine - Mitski] . requests
“your handwriting looks like a drunk spider fell in love with a pen,” she said, peering over si-eun’s shoulder.
si-eun didn’t glance up. “you’ve said that before.”
“yeah, and it hasn’t improved.”
“you’re here for math help, not calligraphy critique.”
“i’m here for the free heating,” she declared, collapsing onto his bed like it owed her rent. “your floor heating is elite. i feel like a warm croissant.”
si-eun exhaled through his nose. “you’re supposed to finish the worksheet i gave you.”
“you’re supposed to stop being a fun vacuum,” she shot back, flipping onto her stomach and burying her face in his pillow. “why do you smell like laundry detergent and sad?”
he ignored that. “that’s page two. the functions review.”
she groaned into the pillow, her voice muffled. “why are you like this?”
“efficient?”
“emotionally unbothered.”
“that’s not a flaw.”
“it is when your only reaction to my suffering is to hand me a pencil.”
she sat up and tossed said pencil at him. he caught it midair without even turning his head.
“show-off,” she muttered.
“you threw it with the force of a butterfly.”
“rude. accurate, but rude.”
they sat in silence for a moment—her pretending to work, him actually working—until she groaned again and fell dramatically across the table, narrowly missing his open notebook.
“i give up. i’m becoming a flower shop cashier. i’ll name the succulents and everything.”
“you hate plants.”
“they hate me first. it’s mutual.”
“finish number five.”
“no.”
sieun said her name.
“make me.”
he leaned back in his chair, expression flat. “do your homework.”
she leaned forward, matching his energy. “make me.”
their faces were inches apart now, eyes locked in a silent, petty standoff.
“childish,” he murmured.
“lifeless.”
“stubborn.”
“robotic.”
“you still haven’t moved.”
“you blinked first.”
“that’s not how this works.”
“says who?”
“says logic.”
she rolled her eyes and dramatically scribbled on the worksheet. “there. number five. happy?”
he checked it. “that’s number six.”
“i hate you.”
“good. now do five.”
she cursed under her breath, then muttered, “you better carry my backpack at my funeral.”
“you won’t need a backpack if you fail this class.”
“then you better carry my coffin. same energy.”
si-eun glanced at her, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
she caught it and pointed. “there. you smiled. admit you like me.”
“i smiled because you said something dumb.”
“same thing.”
they didn’t look at each other after that. not directly, anyway. but she was quietly doing question five, and si-eun casually slid a bag of her favorite snacks across the table like it didn’t mean anything.
like always.
she got up without warning and dropped beside his chair, her chin resting on his arm, body invading his space like it was natural law.
“you need a break,” she muttered.
“you’re distracting.”
“good.”
he didn’t pull away. just let her stay there, still scribbling notes while her cheek pressed against the sleeve of his hoodie.
“you’re going to smudge the ink,” he murmured.
she shrugged. “you’ll rewrite it for me anyway.”
“that’s not how this works.”
she smirked. “isn’t it?”
they stayed like that, the sound of pen on paper and her breathing settling into rhythm.
she, of course, fell asleep fifteen minutes later. head still leaning against his arm, mouth slightly open, clumsy as ever.
si-eun didn’t move.
he just kept writing with one hand, while the other lightly tugged the blanket from the bed to drape over her shoulders.
outside, the sky finally decided to rain.
inside, there was peace—chaotic, uneven, stubborn peace. the kind only the two of them could create. the kind that made sense even when nothing else did.
» he's not the tallest (5'8) so it comes as a bit of a shock when he sees you for the first time. did you skip a couple grades?? are you in the right grade school???
» doesn't think much of the height difference honestly—you're short there's not much to it. it's only deeper into the relationship that he starts to become hyper aware of it.
» every time you go to hug him, he relishes at how well you just tuck under his chin. when cuddling, he'll pull you flush against his chest and stroke your head in a soothing manner, lulling you to sleep while you're completely surrounded by everything sieun
» gets too used to looking down at you that it makes it a little awkward when he's faced with his friends again. looking up is so much work compared to just glancing down at you, especially since he isn't rewarded with seeing your cute face but baku's instead :/
» analyzes everything you do. you're just so fascinating in how you move (a bit creepy, but whatever sieun..) he notes down the way your face slightly scrunches when something is just barely out of reach, or how you tippy toe just to pat his head, or how your head blends into the crowd just a bit too well and he loses you sometimes— yeah. he's whipped
» being not much of a talker, he silently does everything for you. he'll grab all the items you need off the top shelf, presenting it like an expectant puppy and preening slightly when you praise him for it
» locks onto you pretty firmly in crowded areas. his hands tightly hold yours, ensuring that you won't escape his grasp. "losing you is such a hassle because of how hard it is to find you" - that's the excuse he prepares when you point it out, but you know he does it mostly because he likes holding your hand
» speaking of hands, yours are actually small in comparison to his. sieun's always been on the smaller side in the hand comparisons that baku and gotak make him do. when he noticed just how tiny your hands are, it made him want to hold them more. (something inside him is unlocked once he realizes the size diff between you guys..)
» not one to initiate physical touch, but when he does he usually goes for a back hug. you're like a portable teddy bear with how you just get dwarfed by him. his hands wrap around your waist and he breathes in some of your scent, perfectly content where he is
fin
a/n omg i accidentally posted when i wasn't ready (only had the gif LOL) and i lost the ask i'm so sorry anon!! i hope you see this.. 🙏
can I request a fem reader who loves taking care of sieun? They’re in a pretty new relationship and it isn’t like she pities him but more because it’s her love language!! Gift giving and quality time.
So reader loves memorizing every little thing about sieun down to his stationary,,(yes the pens are refilled by her) would even stay up with him while studying!
She’s very used to that routine and knowing sieun he would probably still be new to the relationship so often times he isn’t able to give back to reader as much and she’s really and insists that payment would be for him to smile just a little!!
So maybe one day sieun finally does something for reader that completely takes her aback and has her falling in love with him again!!
Im so so sorry if this was long!!! But I love your whc fics so much I’m excited for more!!
the night he noticed | yeon sieun x fem!reader
summary: she's memorized every pen refill, every yawn, every page turn. But the night he tells her—in the only way he knows—that he's memorized her too, becomes the moment everything changes.
author's note: i don't know what to feel about this. requests ,,
there was something deeply comforting about the quiet between them. it wasn’t empty, nor was it awkward. it was the type of silence that wrapped itself around them like a soft blanket—the kind of hush that existed only between people who didn’t need to fill the air to feel seen.
she sat beside him, her legs tucked under her on the floor of his room, surrounded by books, scattered notes, and the quiet tapping of his mechanical pencil. the overhead light was dimmed, casting a gentle glow that didn’t interfere with concentration but still allowed them to see one another when they glanced up. it was late—later than most would stay up willingly—but she was used to that. used to this.
his pen clicked once, then twice. she reached over before he could do it again, switching it out for a refilled one. he blinked and looked at her, only briefly, but she saw the thanks in his eyes. he never said much, not in the beginning. words weren’t his strength, and she’d learned early that the language he spoke best was one of restraint and observation. so she’d adapted. she had learned him.
every pen refill, every extra highlighter, every back-up graph sheet tucked into his folder—those were her ways of loving him. staying up when her eyes begged for sleep, just to make sure he wasn’t alone in his intensity, was her routine. not because she had to. because she wanted to. because somewhere in the middle of library tables and coffee-fueled all-nighters, she had fallen for him. not the way people usually did. she didn’t fall for his silence, or despite it. she fell into it. and learned how to love inside it.
she didn’t expect things in return. she knew he wasn’t like her. he wasn’t wired to recognize the little things, let alone mirror them. that was okay. all she ever asked for was a smile. just a small one. and even that, she never pressed for. sometimes it happened, and when it did—it felt like the sun.
tonight, though, felt different.
he was writing, yes, focused like always. but there was something off about the way he glanced at her. more frequent. as if he were trying to say something without saying it. she didn’t comment. she only shifted, brushing a stray sticky note from his leg.
"you missed dinner," she said quietly.
he paused, then shrugged.
"you didn’t eat either," he replied.
she smiled softly. “didn’t want to leave you alone.”
he hummed, barely audible. then went back to writing.
minutes passed. maybe more. time moved strangely in their little cocoon. eventually, he closed the textbook, sliding it aside. she blinked at him, surprised.
“you done for the night?” she asked.
he didn’t answer. not directly.
instead, he stood up and disappeared briefly into the hallway. she heard faint sounds from the kitchen. her eyebrows furrowed.
when he returned, he held a small tray. a bowl of rice porridge—simple, warm, and clearly homemade. next to it, a mug of ginger tea. she stared at it, stunned.
"i didn’t know how to make much," he said, eyes down. “but i remembered you said your stomach hurts when you skip meals.”
her heart stilled.
he didn’t sit back down immediately. just stood there awkwardly, almost uncomfortable with himself. his ears were flushed, just barely.
she took the tray slowly, reverently. cradled it in her lap.
“you made this?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
he nodded. “i watched a video. checked the ingredients. made sure it wasn’t too salty.”
she blinked quickly, trying not to let tears pool in her eyes.
“i didn’t think you noticed,” she said. “about the stomachaches.”
“i notice more than i say.”
that was it. just that. but to her, it was everything.
she took a spoonful, the warmth of it somehow extending beyond the bowl and into her chest. it wasn’t perfect—but it didn’t need to be. the care in it was unmistakable.
“i memorize things too,” he said, quietly, almost defensively. “not like you. not as often. but i do.”
her throat tightened.
“i know you set out my pens by color,” he continued, eyes not meeting hers. “and that you refill them even when i don’t notice. i know you only drink that strawberry milk after 2 a.m. i know you leave your charger half-unplugged because you don’t like sparks.”
she covered her mouth with one hand, heart in her throat.
“i just don’t always know what to do with the things i notice,” he said finally. “but i’m trying.”
she put the tray aside and crawled across the space between them. he didn’t look up until her hands were cupping his face, gently.
his eyes, always so guarded, softened instantly.
“you don’t have to do anything with them,” she whispered. “just remembering is already more than enough.”
he leaned slightly into her touch. she felt him sigh—really sigh—for the first time in weeks.
“i wanted to give back,” he murmured.
“you did,” she replied, voice thick. “you are.”
she kissed his forehead, soft and slow.
that night, she stayed a little closer than usual. her head on his shoulder, his hand awkwardly but intentionally resting against hers. they didn’t speak again. they didn’t need to.
in the quiet, he noticed her. and finally, she knew—he always had.
write sieun being overly jealous with reader bc she has to be tutored by another guy because sieun was too busy studying for himself and she failed her math tests so the teacher set her with Youngbin bc the teacher didn't want to interrupt Sieun not knowing they were dating
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ ASSIGNED TO SOMEONE ELSE - yeon sieun x female!reader
- character: yeon sieun
- summary: request above!
- warnings: none, just fluff and some jealousy!
- note: my first request guys kinda nervy… 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 i hope this reaches your expectations anon! i also appreciate the hype my first post got! it gave me sm motivation to continue writing. i love you all so much ❤️
! requests are open ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵) don’t hesitate to request. !
————————————— ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ —————————————
you knew your boyfriend liked his personal space. he was always like that, saying that he preferred his own space, but he also loved to have you around.
but finals were around the corner, he had to focus. that’s why he told you to give him space, so he could prepare how he liked to.
one thing about you was that you loved how sieun always explained the materials to you. it’s like you didn’t even need to listen to the teacher. you can always go to him, you’d listen to his voice any day over your annoying teacher’s voice anyway.
so, when he told you he needed space to study, you didn’t bother him.
you actually tried to watch videos online, which explained the topic perfectly, but you just couldn’t seem to understand it.
sieun always explained it better - you thought. he’s calm about it. is patient when you make the same mistake all over again. you guess that you like the fact that you have no pressure on your back while being with him. that’s why you fell in love with him anyway.
but even with your high efforts of studying for your math exam, you failed.
you frowned to yourself in annoyance, the disappointment reaching your head. the effort was useless.
lucky for you, you weren’t the only one and the teacher had enough of his class getting bad grades.
“this is unacceptable,” he stated, looking at the students in disappointment. “have you learned nothing? how do you plan to pass the finals, huh?”
you barely listened, focusing on your boyfriend’s stoic expression. “he must have a perfect score…” you thought, the envy of his big brain reaching to you.
as you were in your own head, you heard your name being called. you straightened your posture, moving your eyes to the teacher.
“i’m pairing you up with yeongbin, he almost had a perfect score,” the teacher announces. you freeze - and so does sieun.
“… what?” is all you could say. you hated his guts - annoying your boyfriend for absolutely no reason. he was a jerk and you have to pair up with him? but what else you could do anyway?
meanwhile sieun, looking back at yeongbin’s taunting smirk, he felt something unusual in his chest. this would’ve never happened if he actually revised with you.
was it… jealousy? no way… he said it himself that he needed space, so why he was feeling this weird from the fact that someone else will tutor you?
————————————— ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ —————————————
the next day at evening, when you finally got home from having to study with yeongbin (you learned nothing), your phone buzzed over and over again.
someone was calling you.
you reached for your phone, not even looking at the contact while you were taking your jacket off.
“… do you have time?” a familiar voice echoed from your phone - sieun.
“yeah… i just got home from the tutoring thing,” you complained with a careless smile. “why? do you need something?”
“come over. i need to talk to you,” is all he said before hanging up. what could he possibly need at this hour?
but you still slipped back into your jacket and made your way over to his apartment.
once you got there, the door was already unlocked for you, like always. you stepped into the familiar place, closing the door behind you.
he was sitting on his chair, clearly waiting for you.
“you failed the math test?” he spoke first, his expressive eyes not leaving yours.
“it was difficult! i swear i tried to learn it by myself,” you replied, immediately defending yourself while taking a seat on his bed. “yeongbin isn’t making things any better. he’s just annoying, prying questions out of me…”
sieun felt the unusual feeling again in his chest, his jaw clenching just a little. of course he had to bother you - yeongbin didn’t even know you two were dating anyway.
“want me to explain it to you?” he asked suddenly, wanting to help you. his cheeks were a little bit pink, still not being used to this kind of thing.
you agreed and ended up sitting next to him as he explained the topic for you. it wasn’t anything new, you enjoyed listening to him and actually tried to get it. at least you spent some time with sieun and you appreciated every second.
as the hours passed, you’ve finally finished the work and sighed in exhaustion. sieun finally felt satisfied with himself, not taking his eyes off of you.
“i’m sorry,” he spoke to the quiet of his room. “i should’ve not pushed you away.”
“i understand,” you replied, smiling softly. “but never do it again, or i might quit school.”
a small smirk appeared on his own, usually stoic face. he loved how understanding you were - but you were right.
he was never leaving you alone to study ever again.
————————————— ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ —————————————
omg?? I LOVED THIS REQUEST! i hope you guys like this one, because i do c:
!! likes, feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ
requests are open, you’re free to share your thoughts with me!
enjoy the weekend guys!! finally friday… lol. (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
You were standing at a safe distance from him, still, he could tell that your concern was real.
“Why are you like this?”
What? Stop!
The question almost burst out of him, and your eyebrows shot up, your concern replaced by confusion.
“What do you mean?”
Before Sieun could come up with a lie, the words just tumbled out of his mouth.
“Why do you touch everyone else but me?”
OR; Sieun’s craving your touch, but for some reason, you’re touching everyone but him.
──𖤐 pairing: yeon sieun x reader
──𖤐warnings: slightly suggestive
──𖤐 word count: 4.5k
──𖤐 author's note: idek how this happened😭 it all started with “sieun craved your touch” and then it snowballed from there. hope you love it regardless, there’s a bunch of weak hero fanfics in my drafts so be on the lookout for more 😭happy reading! 🫶🏼
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
There were approximately five people outside his family in this world whose touch didn’t make Sieun want to crawl out of his body. He’d gotten used to Suho’s arms around his shoulders, Baku’s hand in his hair, or Gotak and Juntae sandwiching him between them whenever they walked somewhere.
The fifth person was you.
Sieun wasn’t really sure how you entered his life, he just knew that you were there.
You were one of Baku’s friends, your family living in the same neighborhood as him and his father, and ever since you bumped into them on campus, you had been hanging out with Sieun’s friends. Now that he thought about it, you were there more often than not, having become a permanent fixture in the group.
The thing about you was, you were super touchy. Not in an inappropriate kinda way, but Sieun had observed that you displayed your affection with touch, like tousling Juntae’s hair, bumping Gotaek’s shoulder playfully or making Baku give you a piggyback ride. Even Suho was made to be your pillow on the late bus ride back into the city when you were at the beach, your head resting on his shoulder like you’d done it a thousand times before.
A few times, your hand reached out, as if to touch him, but just before your skin could touch his, you pulled back, like he was poisonous.
He’d tried to find out from context clues what made him so different, but it was harder said than done. Sieun came to the conclusion that the only way he would find out was by outright asking you.
Over his dead body.
“Why do you look constipated?”
Sieun averted his eyes from the wall, which he had been staring at for God knew how long to look at Suho, whose eyebrows disappeared in his hairline.
He’d been trying to catch up with all the school work he missed while he’d been in a coma. While the rest of the friend group was in their first year of college, Suho was studying for the upcoming CSAT. He was doing pretty well, all things considered. Especially with Sieun’s help, he had been able to make up for lost time, having been able to qualify for the CSAT in a year instead of the two he had missed, but his attention span still lacked focus sometimes.
“I’m not constipated.”
“Then why do you look it?”
This was one of the times.
“Can we get back to math?”
Suho groaned, leaning down on the table, his eyes never leaving Sieun. “Sieun-ah, I need a break. And clearly something’s bothering you.”
Sieun bit back a sigh and instead pushed the textbook closer to Suho, tapping on the open page.
“Do the third set.”
“And when I get it, will you tell me?”
Sieun’s blank stare told Suho the answer and the other boy leaned over the set, pondering under his breath as he tried to solve the problem. Sieun took the chance to compose himself. He’d never heard the end of it if Suho found out what was on his mind.
A few minutes later, he shoved his notebook under Sieun’s nose, the page full of his scrawny handwriting. Scanning over it, he deemed it well done before shifting his eyes to Suho, who looked at him curiously.
“So?”
Sieun sighed softly, leaning back in his chair.
“i’m just stressed about this upcoming exam,” he lied easily and Suho frowned at him.
“You’re lying,” he pointed out with an accusing finger in his face.
“What makes you think that?”
“When you’re worrried about school, you can’t sleep because you’re staying up late to study, you get eye bags,” Suho explained. “When something personal is stressing you out, you frown.”
Suho reached out to smooth Sieun’s frown over his brows, and he slapped his hand away. He never realized how observant his best friend could be. If only he this committed when it came to school work.
“I’m frowning because you’re annoying.”
“Yah, you’re such a punk,” Suho huffed, clutching at his chest like Sieun had stabbed him. “Why are you talking to your best friend in such a harsh way?”
Sieun sighed softly, leaning back in his chair. The small bell above the entry door of the cafe they were sitting in twinkled, but he paid no mind to the customer, until they called out his name.
“Sieun-ah! Suho-ya!”
Your voice travelled through the cafe as you waved at them, before stopping at their table. Sieun tried not to react.
“Hi.”
“Ah, thanks for coming to my rescue!” Suho sighed dramatically, and you only grinned at him, amused.
“You all done studying?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Suho glared at Sieun, but he only blinked at him, unimpressed.
“Yah, you lied?” you chided Suho, giving him a light clap on the back. “The boys are already on their way.”
“Why?” Sieun blurted out and you waved your phone at him.
“Suho-yah texted the group chat telling us to come hang out with you after your study session.”
Sieun averted his eyes to Suho, who stared at the ceiling, really, anywhere but at Sieun. “You did what?”
Suho finally looked at him, blowing a raspberry. “You shouldn’t have muted the group chat.”
Sure enough, there was Suho’s message telling their friends to come to the cafe, timestamped about half an hour ago.
“Fine,” Sieun sighed, closing his textbook. “You have to finish the rest of the remaining sets of the chapter until next week.”
“You’re giving me homework?”
Sieun leveled a blank stare at his best friend, and Suho stared back, until he broke, groaning.
“Aish…. Fine. So strict,” Suho muttered, putting his school material away.
“Serves your right for lying,” you snorted, tugging Suho up by his elbow. “Come on oppa, you’re buying me and Sieun-ah some coffee. And maybe a cake.”
“Yeo dongsaeng, you’re so mean,” Suho whined but you didn’t mind him as you dragged him to the counter.
“Sieun-ah!” you called, over your shoulder and he lifted his gaze at you.
“Iced americano, right?”
Sieun swallowed thickly before nodding dumbly until you turned back to the cashier. Dumbly? He never did anything dumbly. Yet he couldn’t help but notice how you managed to touch Suho twice in the five minutes you were here, and Sieun… Not once. Unfortunately, his keen observation skills made it hard to ignore how much you touched the others but never Sieun.
Slapping Baku’s hands away when took a big bite of your cake, squeezing Juntae’s hand when he told you how nervous he was for his test, leaning your head on Suho’s arm when you were doubled down in laughter, your feet resting in Gotak’s lap.
There were a few times where your hand was on the table next to Sieun’s elbow, and he tried to subtly inch closer, but just as he was about to touch your hand, you’d pulled it back.
He was behaving like a lunatic. Doing something like that in front of all of his friends like he wanted them to notice.
“Sieun-ah.”
Sieun had been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed you looking at him, a small smile on your lips. Suddenly, you reached out to brush your fingers across his forehead, and he froze.
“Have you ever thought about parting your hair?” you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper. He strained his ears to hear you. “I think it would suit you well.”
You lowered your hand, your fingers tracing an invisible line down his neck, his chest, and he was burning up, like your touch was leaving a path of electricity, before it landed on his lap and then-
With a start, Sieun shot up from his bed, gasping for air. It was just a dream. Slowly, he released the sheets, wrinkled from his strong grip on them and he let out a soft groan, his boxers impossibly tight. He tugged on his shirt, trying to cool himself down, his sweat hair stuck to his forehead. What the hell was wrong with him?
Maybe he didn’t want you touching him after all. If he was reacting like this because you touched him in his dreams, he didn’t even want to imagine how he’d react if it was real.
The next morning, when he stood in front of his mirror, he stared a little too hard at his own reflection. Sieun had tried to forget about the dream, but it was like it was ever present in his head. He had to get it together before everyone arrived. A couple of weeks ago, Gotak had suggested a game day at Sieun’s place, and while he had reluctantly agreed to host, Sieun couldn’t imagine a worse scenario than you being in his space, especially now that he couldn’t get you out of his head.
With a defeated sigh, Sieun reached for the hair wax Suho had given him for Christmas, which had collecting dust in his cupboard ever since then, before spreading it on his fingers, as he parted his hair with the help of the wax.
Sieun was still fidgeting with his hair when he heard his front door unlock, but he wasn’t phased. He recognized his friends loud laughter from anywhere and he knew that Suho had his code memorized.
“Sieun-ah, it’s us!” Baku hollered.
“We’ll set up in the living room!”
That was Gotak.
“I’ll be right out!” Sieun replied, distracted. He was a perfectionist and his hair was not behaving like he wanted it to.
After a while - far longer than Sieun would have liked - he finally exited the bathroom, following his friends’ loud voices. They immediately quieted down though as soon as he stepped into the living room, their eyes a little wide as they took him in.
“What?” he asked flatly, fighting back the urge to touch his hair.
“Your hair,” Baku whispered in a hushed voice. “It’s different.”
“Sieun-ah.. Did you change your hair?” Suho asked, bewildered. “You hate change.”
“It’s just hair,” Sieun argued, suddenly feeling silly over their reactions.
“Yah, what’s going on?” you asked, coming from the kitchen, stopping in your tracks. You had glasses in your hands, but you must have forgotten about them momentarily when Sieun looked at you. Your eyebrows raised, and a small smile tugged on your lips.
“I like your hair.”
Sieun grew hot.
“Thanks.”
“Alright alright, let’s get back to Mario Kart, shall we?” Gotak interrupted, waving his controller around. You quickly put the glasses on the coffee table, before taking a seat on the couch, and just like fate had wanted, the last free seat was empty next to you.
Sieun tried not to be hyper aware of you next to him, but it seemed like you were shrinking away from him, the longer time went on. Honestly he didn’t even know why he was so disappointed, because he had still not forgotten about his dream.
“Wait, what time is it?” Suho asked with a yawn, stretching his arms. “I think I gotta leave. I promised Halmeoni to have dinner at home.”
“I think we’ve played enough for a day,” you announced, springing up from the couch. By the end of it, you had nearly been sitting pressed against the wall, it was ridiculous. Sieun almost balked at the obvious distance you had tried to put between you and him, it was hard not to take it personal. As the boys started collecting their stuff, Sieun stacked the plates, trying to clean up.
“Come on, I’ll help you,” you offered, taking the dirty glasses to the kitchen. Confused, Sieun stared after you. As the boys filed out, shouting their goodbyes, it was only Sieun and you left in his apartment.
At this point, he thought you’d drop the pretense and hurry after the rest of your friends, but you didn’t seem like you were in a rush, helping Sieun clean up the rest of the mess. He just didn’t get you. You wouldn’t touch him for the life of it, making him think that you disliked him so much, but then, you offered to help clean up or even knew his coffee order by heart. Sieun was at his wits end. You clearly cared enough about him to remember details about him, but not enough to want to touch him.
“Oppa.”
“Hm?”
“Is everything okay? You seem… Distracted.”
Sieun’s eyes snapped up to yours, and you were watching him with keen eyes. He had to be careful now, one wrong move and everything would be… Just awful.
“Fine. Just a little tired, I guess.”
“Tired?” Your eyebrows drew together in concern. “Are you having trouble sleeping again?”
You were standing at a safe distance from him, still, he could tell that your concern was real.
“Why are you like this?”
What? Stop!
The question almost burst out of him, and your eyebrows shot up, your concern replaced by confusion.
“What do you mean?”
Before Sieun could come up with a lie, the words just tumbled out of his mouth.
“Why do you touch everyone else but me?”
“Oh.”
His words made you pause and a heavy silence settled over you. Embarrassment burned Sieun’s cheeks. He was always so careful, collected. What was it about you that made him lose his composure?
“They’re my friends, they don’t care about being touched,” you then replied and Sieun wasn’t sure if this was worse or not.
“I’m not your friend?”
A nasty, foul taste spread in his mouth as he spoke the words and you shook your head vehemently.
“That’s not what I said!”
Your voice was heated, before your shoulders slumped, and you let out a small sigh.
“I’m very generous with my touch. It’s how I show my friends that I care about them. But not everyone likes being touched, and boundaries are important to me.”
You caught his eyes and his breath stocked in his throat. You hadn’t been touching him all this time because… You cared so much?
“You seemed liked you hated people touching you, or being in your space. I was trying to respect your boundaries.”
Sieun pressed his lips together, processing everything you’d said, but you cleared your throat, looking away.
“I’m sorry. I should go. I reall-“
“I don’t mind it,” Sieun said, interrupting your rambling. “You can touch me.”
“… Are you sure?” you asked, careful, like you didn’t want to scare him away.
“Yes. You can just be with me like you are with the others. I don’t need special treatment.”
“Okay.”
You smiled at him, brightly and suddenly, his chest didn’t feel so heavy anymore.
“I should get out of your hair,” you then said, starting to gather all your things in your arms. “I’ll see you around, Sieun-ah.”
After the conversation, things got better. Sieun stopped having weird dreams and you stopped walking on eggshells around him. Well, until things got worse.
You touched him. A lot. So much to the point where he missed the warmth of your body next to him, when you pulled away. Once, Suho almost caught him leaning more into your shoulder when you moved away to help Juntae carry the tray of food, it was mortifying.
And to make matters even worse: his dreams started again. Since he knew how it felt to have your hands rest in the nape of his neck because he made the mistake of mentioning how sore he was, the dreams were even more vivid. Last week, he was late to class because he had been in the shower far too long.
This had to stop.
“See, he looks constipated again.”
Sieun lifted his eyes from the grill, where he had been flipping pork belly for the past five minutes to see Gotak and Suho staring at him with their mouths opened, their food half chewed.
“I know what you mean,” Gotak replied, nodding fervently and Suho fist pumped the air in victory. Sometimes Sieun wondered if the two of them were long lost twins.
You and Juntae had headed over to the corner store to pick up some lychee soju, and taken Baku to help. You and Junate still left him alone with Gotak and Suho.
“What are you even talking about?” Sieun asked flatly, trying to seem disinterested. Giving a bone to a hungry dog was just plain stupid, and Gotak and Suho were starving.
“You know, it’s better to talk about whatever is bothering you,” Suho lectured him, and Gotak hummed in agreement, his mouth full of kimchi. “Dr. Kim said it’s not healthy keeping your emotions bottled up.”
Suho’d been attending therapy ever since he left the hospital, and while Sieun knew it helped him come to terms with his accident and the repercussions, he doubted that Dr. Kim was talking about Sieun and whatever he was feling about you.
“He was talking to you,” Sieun pointed out and Suho only shrugged.
“It can be used universally.”
Sieun only sighed, but the arrival of you, Juntae and Baku thankfully voided his obligation to answer.
“Baku bought almost their entire stock,” Juntae said as he piled the soju bottles on the table, the glasses clinking loudly.
“They only had like, six bottles!” Baku argued and you snorted, sitting down in your chair next to Sieun. Your smile wavered as you glanced between the three friends, picking up on an odd vibe.
“What were you guys talking about?”
You laid your hand on Sieun’s arm in a very nonchalant way, and he tried not to tense up but Suho’s eyes narrowed and Sieun caught the exact moment when his best friend figured it out. Fantastic.
“Just that- AISH!”
Gotak yelped and the table bumped, as he glared at Suho who only looked at him inconspicuously. He must have kicked his foot. The two of them communicated in silence and then Suho gestured towards his rice bowl.
“Eat.”
His tone left no room to argue.
“Punk,” Gotak muttered under his breath, going back to shoveling rice into his mouth while Suho turned to you, smiling innocently.
“We were just talking about my CSATS.”
Sieun’s jaw clenched as his eyes flitted between Suho and Gotak, while you only shrugged, accepting their answer. Even though Sieun knew that this was far from over, especially if Suho had an inkling but his best friend just carried on, as if nothing happened.
Sieun should be relaxed, but for some reason, he felt like something this was definitely not over. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and his suspicions proved right.
Suho [03/09/25: 3:21 pm]: I got you
Sieun looked up, but Suho was engaged in a conversation with Juntae about the newest manhwa on the market. Sieun desperately wanted to press the topic, but this was the least fitting situation.
Sieun [03/09/25: 7:33 pm]: what do you mean?
Sieun [03/09/25: 8:57 pm]: ?
Sieun [03/09/25: 10:42 pm]: Suho-ya
Suho [03/09/25: 11:09 pm]: let’s study together tomorrow okay? my place
Sieun [03/09/25: 11:13 pm]: okay
With a small sigh, Sieun trekked up the stairs to Suho’s small apartment. He’d barely slept, with the constant dreams about you and the anxiety he was feeling about whatever Suho was up to. He’d had enough. When he finally got to Suho’s unit, he knocked on the door, and it wasn’t long before he heard foot steps approaching.
“Suho-ya, I-“
The rest of the sentence died in the back of Sieun’s throat when he came face to face with you.
“Sieun-ah, hi.”
“.. Hi?”
“You must have just missed Suho, he went out to help his halmeoni for a bit,” you explained, opening the door wider. Sieun followed you inside, confused as to why you were there in the first place. His mind was racing with countless theories, until he arrived at one, which made him feel nauseous.
“Are you dating Ahn Suho?”
“What? No!” You whirled around to stare at him, your mouth agape. “Why would you think that?”
Sieun exhaled softly, which sounded suspiciously like relief, then, he shrugged, gesturing around.
“You’re hanging out at his place by yourself when we’re supposed to be studying.”
“You’re supposed to be studying?” you echoed, surprised. “He called me over to hang out. The three of us.”
“What.”
Sieun blinked at you, but you only mirrored his confusion. He sighed in exasperation, picking up his phone.
Sieun [04/09/25: 03:06 pm]: where are you?
Suho’s was online, but he didn’t read the message. Then, he went offline.
“Punk,” Sieun muttered under his breath, sliding his phone back into his pocket, and you only looked at him expectantly.
“Let’s just sit, he’ll be back eventually.”
You hummed in reply and sat down on the couch, Sieun followed, but left a noticeable distance between you. Your eyes trailed over to him, before you turned away, leaning back on the couch with a small sigh.
“Should we order food?” you asked. “To tease Suho. He’ll be furious if he gets back and we’re eating without him.”
“Sure.”
Sieun opened the delivery app on his phone and you scooted over, leaning over him to tuck your chin on his shoulder. “Ooh, what about fried chicken?”
Your breath fanned over from his neck to his cheek, and it made him feel hot. Too hot.
Your breath was hot on his neck and it made him feel all tingly. Sieun ducked out of under your touch, jumping up from the couch.
“You know what, I’m not really hungry right now,” he quickly said, offering you his phone. He was holding it at the far edge, to minimize the chances of your hand touching his. “You order something.”
You peered up at him through your lashes, before your face twisted into a scowl.
“I knew it.”
You pointed a finger at him and he blanched. Did you find him out?
“You’ve been acting weird all week. Admit it, you hate when I touch you.”
Okay, not as bad, but still not good.
“It’s not you-“ he hedged but you quickly shook your head.
“Yah, I told you I didn’t want to cross your boundaries and you insisted that it was fine and you’re literally shaking like a leaf!” You huffed. “Why didn’t you just tell me that you dont like it?”
“I don’t not like it,” Sieun argued, starting to get upset.
I might like it too much, he thought and your eyes widened.
“Did I say that out loud?” he asked, horrified, and when you nodded slowly, he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
The silence that followed was deafening and Sieun’s eyes found yours, his cheeks flushing.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “That was weird of me.”
You raised your eyebrows and quickly shook your head. “It’s not weird at all! I think it’s normal, especially if you’ve never let people touch you. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
A shy smile spread on your lips and it made Sieun felt at ease, calm.
“You know you can tell me stuff like that, right? We’re friends.”
Sieun only stared at you. He had never felt comfortable sharing his feelings. The only time was with Suho, and only because he was in a coma.
“Come on, sit.”
You patted on the couch next to you, and Sieun pressed his lips together, hesitating, before he sat down, leaving an inch between you and him.
“You know sometimes Baku makes me scratch his head like he’s a dog,” you told him with a grin and the corner of Sieun’s mouth ticked up.
“Sounds like something Baku would do.”
You laughed, nodding, pulling your legs under yourself.
“So you’re really not weird for liking being touched, it’s a way of saying that you like me, too.” You paused, looking for his eyes. “… You do like me, right?”
Sieun was bewildered. How did you not know that he liked you?
“Yes.”
You let out a sigh of relief.
“Good. Great. Otherwise this would’ve been awkward,” you laughed, gently patting his arm. Your hand lingered on him, and his eyes darted over so you raised your eyebrows at him.
“When you said you liked when I touch you, did you mean this?”
Sieun opened his mouth to reply, but not a single word escaped his throat, so he only nodded.
“Or like this?” You gently ran your fingers over his bare arm and Sieun shuddered. A warm laugh escaped your lips and you scraped your nails against the back of his neck. Sieun nearly moaned.
“Sorry, I’m just teasing, I’ll stop,” you said, but before you could pull your hand back, Sieun grabbed you by the wrist. He misjudged how strong he was though, and pulled you right on top of him.
“Oh!”
You stared at him, with an open mouth and he stared back, helpless. God, he was just embarrassing himself over and over again, wasn’t he?
“Has anyone ever told you that you have really pretty eyes?” you said softly, brushing your fingertips over his fringe. “That is the main reason why I like that you’re parting your hair like this now. I can see your eyes better.”
Sieun only blinked at you, exhaling softly. This was just like in his dreams. He feared that if he spoke, he’d wake up, or scare you away.
“Should I get off of you?” You then asked, getting bashful. “Sorry, this can’t be comfortable.”
Suddenly, Sieun’s hand tightened around your waist, and you stilled in his arms.
“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice a little scratchy. Your smile softened, and you brushed his hair out of his eyes, his eyes, which were trained completely on you. You noticed, of course, you always noticed.
“Use your words, Sieun-ah.”
Sieun inhaled deeply, gathering all his wit and bravado, before he pushed the words out of his mouth.
“Can I kiss you?”
You beamed at him, before nodding yes, and that was when he finally leaned up, pressing his lips against yours.
Suho [04/09/25: 04:45 pm]: did you kiss yet?
Sieun [04/09/25: 04:51 pm]: none of your business
Sieun [04/09/25: 04:52 pm]: … yes
Suho [04/09/25: 04:53 pm]: told you, your hyung got you
Suho [04/09/25: 04:53 pm]: you owe me
Sieun [04/09/25: 05:53 pm]: I owe you a study session
Suho [04/09/25: 04:54 pm]: you’re helping me with my part time job next week
Sieun [04/09/25: 04:54 pm]: fine
Suho [04/09/25: 04:54 pm]: stay decent, i’m on my way back
Saw your requests were open and thought about a childhood friends to lovers with Yeon Sieun x reader? Slightly suggestive if ya want some spice, but it’s not necessary :D I’ll most likely come back and request for more weak hero content
Could I be 🐍 anon?
Thank you!
A/N: this has been sitting in the requests for a hot minute, so I'm happy to finally get it out.
Title: Assumptions
Pairings: Si-eun x Fem!Reader
Warnings: sexual content, slightly suggestive.
enjoy!
it all started when you were both two. He had just moved into the neighborhood, and you were an outgoing curious little girl. You had made your way over into their driveway somehow, where little si-eun stood, playing with some action figure. You had excitedly ran up, introducing yourself. He didn't say anything, but you kept trying and asked what he was playing with. He stared at you with a blank expression before handing the action figure to you. "Optimus prime. Keep it." You celebrated and excitedly hugged him before your parents had come out of their door, calling your name to come back inside.
"Thank you um—"
"—Si-eun"
"Thank you si-eun!" you exclaimed, planting a small kiss on his cheek before running back to your parents, who asked where you got the toy from. You cheerfully explained, si-eun was listening to the whole thing.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Growing up side by side in the same quiet neighborhood, you and Si-eun shared a bond that ran deeper than most childhood friendships. You both built forts out of cardboard boxes, raced bikes down the hill, and traded secrets under the old elm tree at the park. From the time he had moved into the neighborhood, you were inseparable—not out of romance, but simply because of the understanding you guys shared with each other in a way few others did. Si-eun was always a quiet kid, and you never pushed him to speak. Even with little words, you could read him like you wrote the book yourself, he was basically you as a boy. But of course being a boy and a girl who spent nearly every waking hour together made you the target of constant teasing.
Every other kid in the neighborhood seemed convinced you were boyfriend and girlfriend. No matter how many times you and Si-eun made gagging noises or scowled at the suggestion, the rumors never stopped. Even classmates at school chimed in, whispering and giggling whenever you two sat next to each other in class or showed up to events as a pair. It was irritating, and to the both of you, absolutely ridiculous. After all, you saw each other more like siblings than anything romantic.
What was worse were the jokes from your parents, who found endless amusement in imagining a future where the two childhood best friends would “realize their love” and live happily ever after. “Just wait,” Si-eun’s mother would say with a wink, “You’ll end up marrying each other someday.” Your mom would nod and add, “It’s always the childhood friend.” Each time, you two would roll your eyes, exchange looks of mutual horror, and vow—once again—that nothing like that would ever happen. Of course, life has a funny way of turning promises like that into something far more complicated.
Elementary school was the same as early childhood. You two would protect each other from bullies, play on the playground together, sit at lunch together, and walk home together. Kids would see you guys around and point, saying "Everyone says they are boyfriend and girlfriend." and each time you heard that, you'd cover si-eun's ears as you tell them off for spreading rumors. It never bothered him, though, nothing did.
Through middle school, your bond only deepened. you stuck together like glue, shielding each other from the older kids who tried to pick on either one of you, and offering quiet solidarity when either of you had a bad day. You still sat side by side at lunch, signed up for the same electives, and rode the same bus home, where you'd part ways at the driveways with a wave or a sarcastic remark. Of course dating never crossed into your lives—not because you weren’t curious, but because every crush ended up assuming you were already off the market. "Aren’t you with him?" or “Isn’t she your girlfriend?” were questions heard so often, you eventually stopped trying. It wasn’t worth the trouble. At least, not then.
By the time high school rolled around, you found yourselves in fewer classes together, schedules pulling each other in different academic directions. You still clung to the one constant you both had—lunch. It was a sacred part of the day, that small window of time where the chaos of high school could fade away, and you could just be yourselves.
As you both entered senior year, the connection evolved into something quieter but more intense. You skipped classes like a synchronized routine, sometimes ditching school altogether to explore the city or just sit around doing nothing. The friendship became a world of its own—too familiar to question, too easy to fall into. Both of your eighteenth birthdays rolled around, celebrated with family and each other. On weekends, you each rotated between your house and his, lounging around like it was second nature. The teasing never stopped, not from the parents or the few neighborhood kids who hadn’t moved away. But somewhere between all the jokes and assumptions, things began to shift. This time, neither of you was rolling your eyes.
Si-eun had always been reserved, almost unreadable to most people—but to him, you were an open book written in a language only he could understand. He trusted you with parts of himself he wouldn’t even acknowledge aloud. you were beautiful in a way that felt unreal—quiet, grounded, and gentle, the kind of person who he could sit in silence for hours with and you would still make him feel heard. To you, he was a rare kind of boy—sharp-witted, oddly thoughtful, and never once afraid to be silent. He made the world make sense. So when your sixteenth friendship anniversary landed on a weekend where his parents happened to be out of town, and you casually invited yourself over to spend the night, it didn’t feel strange.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
"I'm so glad to finally get a turn eating all your food, my house is almost empty," you sighed as you flopped down onto his couch. The cushions sank beneath you, familiar and worn in from the years you'd spent hanging out here—watching movies, doing homework, or just sitting in comfortable silence. Si-eun cleared his throat from the kitchen, where he was rummaging through the fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and the hum of the appliance filling the space.
"You've eaten half my pantry," he called back. He returned with a couple of drinks and dropped onto the couch beside you, close enough that your knees brushed. The glow from the TV cast flickering light over the room, but neither of you were really paying attention to it. There was a charged stillness between you, the kind that had been building for weeks, maybe longer—something unspoken shifting in the way your glances lingered and how your laughter had gotten just a bit softer.
You looked over at him, your gaze meeting his, and for once, neither of you looked away. The air grew heavy. His hand rested near yours on the couch cushion, just barely brushing your fingers. "You know," you murmured, heart pounding a little faster, "this is the part where one of our parents would come in and say, 'See? Told you two you were meant for each other.'" Si-eun gave a soft, breathless laugh, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in slowly, eyes searching yours for hesitation. When your lips finally met, it was cautious at first—tentative, testing the weight of years of friendship and all the closeness that had come before. But once that boundary broke, everything rushed in at once. The kiss deepened, hungry and heated, hands moving with urgency, mouths meeting again and again like you'd been holding back forever. The room, the years, the world—all faded beneath the pull of each other.
You sat up, throwing your leg over his lap and straddling him. His arms hesitated, finding their way to the curve of your waist. You turned your head to the side, deepening the kiss. Your arms rested on his shoulders and your hands found their way into his hair, pulling softly. He barely had time to think before he was standing up, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to his bedroom through the kiss.
You pulled away, falling back onto his mattress. He climbed on top of you, face digging into your neck as he left hickeys. He found your sensitive spot, and you sigh deep into his neck, hands finding their way into his hair once more.
"Are we gonna?—" He breathed out
"—If you talk I think I'll snap back into reality. just do it."
And so he does.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
You lay there, heavy breaths and moving chests.The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the TV still playing in the background and the slow rhythm of your breaths. You lay beneath the blankets, the weight of what just happened settling around you like a thick, electric silence. Neither of you spoke at first—not out of discomfort, but out of awe, maybe disbelief, at how something that once seemed impossible now felt right.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” you said softly, turning your head to glance at him. Your voice wasn’t nervous or unsure—just honest.
Si-eun let out a sigh low and breathy. “Yeah.” He looked at you then, serious for a moment. “I think....part of me’s been waiting for that for a long time.”
You blinked, surprised by the confession—but not in a bad way. It was like something inside you clicked into place. Having such an intimate moment with the only boy you could trust for the past sixteen years of your life made you feel as though it was destiny you had invited yourself over tonight. “So... does this mean that everyone was right?” you asked, half-teasing, half-afraid of the answer.
He smiled, that small, rare smile he only gave you when no one else was around. “I think so.”
You nodded slowly, heart thudding in a new kind of rhythm. “If that’s true, I’m okay with it. I think I want it to be true.”
Si-eun wrapped his arm around you, pulling you a little closer. “Then let’s stop pretending it’s not."
And just like that, years of denying, joking, and brushing off the idea dissolved into something simple and certain. For once, everyone else might have actually been right.
A/N: I'm really proud of this I hope you guys like it.
Could you please make a sieun x reader in which reader is ill, lost stamina and just woke up from coma.
Thank you🫶
When you come back to me
Pairing: Si-eun x Reader
Word Count: 655
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Softness, Recovery
POV: Second Person
Summary: After the accident, the world returns to you slowly — one sound, one breath, one touch at a time. But Si-eun never left your side.
Warnings: Hospital setting, implied past injury/accident, emotional vulnerability, soft angst, gentle intimacy
First, a sound. A low, steady beep. Then the sensation of air — dry, filtered — brushing past your nose. Then light, too bright, pressing against your closed eyes.
You shifted, barely. Everything felt heavy. Your body didn’t quite feel like your own.
Then you heard it — the quietest breath beside you. Familiar.
“...Y/N?”
That voice.
You forced your eyes open, just a little. The light blurred everything into white. But then something moved in the corner of your vision. A shape. A person.
You blinked, again, again, until it became clear.
“Si...eun?” you rasped, like your voice had been hiding somewhere deep in your chest.
He didn’t answer right away. He just looked at you — wide-eyed, stunned, like the world had stopped moving. Then, slowly, he exhaled.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice as soft as snow.
His hand came to yours so gently it felt like a whisper. He didn’t hold it. Just placed his fingers lightly over yours, as if afraid you might disappear.
“You’re awake.”
You tried to nod, but your neck didn’t cooperate. Even breathing felt like work. You looked down at your hand under his, barely twitching.
“Can’t move,” you mumbled, a little embarrassed. “Feels like... nothing works.”
“That’s okay.” His voice dropped lower, steadier. “You’ve been sleeping. Your body’s just slow to remember. Don’t rush it.”
You blinked up at him. “How long?”
“Twenty-two days,” he whispered. “Since the accident.”
Your chest ached at the thought. “You’ve been... here?”
He nodded.
“Every day?” you asked.
Si-eun’s eyes didn’t leave yours. “Every moment I could be.”
He looked tired. The quiet kind. You could see it in the way his shoulders curled slightly forward, in the mess of his hair, in the faint pink in his waterline like he hadn’t quite cried, but almost. Maybe more than once.
“I thought I was dreaming,” you said weakly.
“You’re not.”
His hand brushed the side of your arm — light, careful, reverent. Like you were made of glass. You leaned into the warmth without realizing.
“I feel... broken,” you admitted, voice cracking.
“You’re not.” He said it like he meant it, not just to comfort you. “You’re still you. Just tired.”
A silence settled between you — quiet, soft, full. The kind of silence that holds instead of hurts.
You stared at the ceiling, your body limp under the blankets. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you again.”
“I couldn’t lose you,” he said, almost inaudible. “Not like that. Not without—” He stopped himself, breath catching. “Not without you knowing how much I...”
He didn’t finish. He just looked down at your hand again.
You turned your face toward him, gaze searching. “I know.”
He looked up. Your eyes met.
“You don’t have to say it right now,” you whispered. “I just... I’m glad you’re here.”
Si-eun moved closer then, slowly, until his forehead gently touched the side of yours. His hand finally wrapped around yours — warm, steady, real.
“I’ll be here when you wake up again,” he whispered.
And even as you drifted back into the soft haze of sleep, his hand didn’t let go.
Fluff no smut, f! Reader, clumsy reader, reader is based on me. I had to do this for comfort.
"So?" He asked from inside his car, leaning casually on the window like the world was normal. The universe, however, had other plans.
You take one step.. just one towards the car door, and boom. Ankle twists, knee cramps, and suddenly the space in front of Suho is EMPTY. Man literally blinks at his windshield like ??? Weren’t you JUST there?
His lips twitch, composure cracking, but he quickly unbuckles, hops out, and finds you groaning on the pavement. "Today isn’t really your day, huh?" he says, voice steady but his brows furrowed so hard it could slice glass.
You pout up at him, dramatic. "This is the worst birthday ever."
And Suho sighs, scooping you up like you weigh negative pounds. "Come on, drama queen."
In the car, when you whisper "shit that burns" through clenched teeth, he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Aww don’t cry.." But you do.. tears welling, kissy lips poked out pathetically. He FREEZES, staring like you just cursed him. Then, with another sigh, he cups your cheeks. "…aish. Come here." And yeah, he kisses you right there. Street, pain, tears all shut up by his lips.
..
After you’re sitting outside the last closed shop all pouty, Suho crouches in front of you, thumb brushing your cheek.
"…fine. We’ll buy them online. And I’ll get you every single pillow plush they had. Happy now?"
Before you can answer, he just sighs, grabs your hand, and pulls you up gently. Next thing you know? He’s driving. You’re like "???" and he’s just deadpan behind the wheel.
Then he pulls into your favorite burger place, rolls down the window, and orders with zero hesitation. "Double burger. Extra cheddar. Large fries. Oh, and a Large cola."
You blink at him and he just shrugs, "You’re a cheddar girly. Don’t even lie."
And when you finally bite into it, legs still sore from all that walking, you’re moaning about the cheese and he’s just watching you with this tiny smirk like, "See? Told you. I know my girl."
...
Nine days later, he watches you SPRINT like Sonic to the package pick-up. "Calm down, it’s not going anywhere," he calls, shaking his head. Then he sees you pet a dog,,, a dog—despite your fear, and his eyes widen. "[Name]…" his voice softens, pride slipping through.
You return hugging the plush box like your newborn child. He ruffles your hair, lips twitching. "Good girl. You did it."
Finally back at home, Suho finally thinks things are calm… until breakfast.
You’re peeling your egg, staring at him with betrayal. "…why is yours better cooked and mine watery and gushy…"
He looks at you. Looks at the egg. Looks back at you. The sigh that leaves him is ANCIENT. Pinching the bridge of his nose again, he peels his own egg, and without ceremony shoves the dry yolky one into your mouth.
"Here, silly. Happy now?"
You chew with puffed cheeks, smile blossoming, nodding enthusiastically. And Suho just stares at you—this delicate, cursed, ridiculous, glass-fragile girl he somehow loves.. before muttering, "Unbelievable…" but his hand finds your hair anyway, ruffling it again.
..
After two days later.. It’s late. The pizza box is almost empty. One lone slice remains—cheesy, golden, destiny itself.
You reach for it at the same time Suho does. Eyes meet. Air crackles.
"…mine," you whisper. He raises a brow. "...[Name]. We shared the other seven."
"THIS IS DIFFERENT." You snatch but he’s faster. Slice secured in his hand.
You transform. Like actually morph into a tiny, rabid chihuahua. Growling, snapping, pawing at him with little claws. "GIVE. IT. TO. ME." Suho stares down at you, holding the pizza slice up like it’s the key for cat heaven. "Are you serious right now?"
You lunge. He immediately locks you in place, arms wrapped around yours, pinning you like a toddler mid-tantrum. "Calm down, demon."
You’re still thrashing. Still growling. He’s holding the slice as far away as possible while you try to bite him.
Finally, with another long-suffering sigh, he tears the slice in half. Shoves one piece into your mouth mid-growl. "Happy now?"
You chew with puffed cheeks, glaring, but nod. Suho eats his half calmly like nothing happened, muttering under his breath, "…I should’ve dated someone normal." But the way he hides a smile? Yeah. He’s weak for you.
After the demonic chihuahua pizza slice war (where you almost bit his hand off btw), you both collapse on the couch, still glaring but holding your pieces like trophies. Suho scrolls, then goes, "We’re watching Urban Myths."
At first you’re like "bet~" but 15 minutes in… the first creak happens.
Your head SNAPS to him. His eyes? Already on you. No words, just 👁️👁️ → 👁️👁️.
Then another thud.
Again.. both of you, dramatic slow turn, staring like telepathic idiots.
You whisper, "Maybe it’s the…human mannequin…" and he just facepalms but his hand is shaking bc he’s ALSO lowkey spooked.
By the third weird noise, you two aren’t even trying to be brave anymore—you’re clinging onto your piggy pillow and he’s pretending to adjust the blanket, but really? He’s inching closer so if the "human mannequin" pulls up, it’ll grab you first.
IM LAUGHING SO HARD AT THIS, HE IS MY COMFORT CHARACTER😭😭 ANYWAYYY… all that happened in one day, but I wanted to add Suho into my real-life mess, so heh, hope you like it~ I know it’s a mess 💔💔 The heat here makes it hard to get motivated for shite
hihi ^^ i really like you stories on here and wattpad ^^
can i request a Park Seung-tae with the reader who’s the complete opposite of him, i’m not the best of coming up with scenarios sorry :<
MELON BREAD;pst
Park Seungtae x reader
Warnings: Description of violence.
NOTE: Hi, this is my first Seungtae shot here, so thank you for requested it, i really hope you like it!
Park Seung-tae lived two lives.
At school, he was the predator. He walked the hallways with his hands in his pockets, surrounded by lackeys who laughed at his cruel jokes, and reveled in watching students lower their heads as he passed by.
And why wouldn't he? He was rich, strong, and had enough power to get out of any trouble.
But at 5:00 PM, when he escaped from extra classes or simply wanted to flee the noise of his idiot "friends," Seung-tae went to the Han River park.
There, on a secluded bench under an old tree, Seung-tae took off his mask of power. He loosened his tie, took off his uniform jacket, and simply stared at the water, smoking a cigarette while hiding it from the nosy old ladies walking past him.
Until you came along.
It was a Tuesday. He was in a bad mood because a teacher had confiscated his phone. He was just about to light a cigarette when a shadow blocked his sun.
"Smoking is going to make your teeth yellow. And you’re too handsome to have ugly teeth."
Seung-tae looked up, ready to insult whoever dared to speak to him that way.
But he was struck speechless.
It was you. You were wearing the uniform of the arts high school two neighborhoods over. A red plaid skirt, a bow at your neck, and a backpack covered in plush keychains that jingled.
You weren't afraid. You had a smile that seemed made of sunshine.
"What do you care?" he growled, though he lowered the lighter.
"I don't care, but I have this left over." You pulled a packaged melon bread and a small carton of banana milk out of your backpack. "My grandma gave me a double snack today, and if I come home with it, she gets sad. Will you help me?"
Seung-tae looked at the bread. He looked at your face. At his school, if someone approached him, it was to beg for mercy or to lick his boots. No one ever offered him melon bread.
"I'm not hungry," he lied.
"Take it. Please." You sat down next to him, leaving a polite amount of space, and placed the food on the bench between the two of you. "I'm ____, by the way."
"I didn't ask."
"I know. But it's rude to eat with strangers. Now we aren't strangers anymore."
Seung-tae glanced at you sideways. You were... strange. Bright. Harmless.
He grabbed the melon bread brusquely, tearing the wrapper. "Seung-tae. My name is Seung-tae."
That was the beginning.
For three months, that park bench became their secret.
You didn't know he was the terror of hundreds of kids at school. To you, he was just Seung-tae, the tall, slightly grumpy boy who was always hungry and listened to your stories about painting class.
He discovered that he liked this version of himself.
With you, he didn't have to be cruel to get respect. He didn't have to prove he had money. He just had to be there.
"Seung-tae!" Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
You were running down the bike path, your scarf flying around your neck. It was cold—November—but your red nose made you look adorable.
Instinctively, he stood up.
"Don't run, you're going to fall," he scolded, but he reached out his arm to catch you when you arrived, panting, in front of him.
"Look!" You pulled a container out of your backpack. "I made cookies! They’re chocolate chip. They got a little burnt on the edges, but they taste good."
Seung-tae took the container as if it were a treasure. "You cooked for me?"
"Well, I cooked for myself, but I thought of you. You always look like you need sugar."
Seung-tae opened the box and ate a cookie. It was hard as a rock and a bit burnt.
It was the best thing he had ever tasted in his life.
"They are... edible," he said, trying not to smile too much.
"Hey! I know you like them!" You laughed and gave him a little nudge on the shoulder.
He looked at you. The sunset light illuminated your face. Without thinking, Seung-tae reached out and fixed your scarf, which had come undone while you were running.
His fingers grazed your neck. You were warm. His hands were cold.
You stood still, looking at him. "Thanks, Seung-tae."
"You're a mess, ____. If I weren't here to look after you, you'd surely freeze."
"Then thank goodness you're here."
Seung-tae's heart, an organ he believed was armored with cynicism and malice, pounded violently.
He realized, with terror, that he no longer came to the park to escape his daily life. He was coming for you.
"Let's go," he said suddenly, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over his shoulder—looking ridiculous with the plush keychains, but he didn't care. "It's cold. I'm treating you to a hot chocolate."
"With cookies?" you asked, eyes shining.
"With cookies."
They walked together toward the nearby café. He walked on the street side, protecting you from the cars, adapting his long stride to your shorter one.
Inside the café, while they waited for their order, a group of loud boys entered. They were from another school.
One of them brushed past you and shoved you hard to get to the counter. You almost dropped your phone.
"Watch it, girl!" the guy yelled at you.
You shrank back, murmuring an apology out of habit.
But Seung-tae didn't have that habit.
His hand, which had been resting relaxed on the counter, clenched into a fist. His expression changed. The sweetness he had with you vanished, and the Park Seung-tae that many knew surfaced.
He grabbed the guy by the hood of his sweatshirt and jerked him backward violently.
"Hey, asshole," Seung-tae said, with an icy voice that silenced the entire café. "Who do you think you are?"
The guy spun around, furious, but upon seeing Seung-tae's height and murderous glare, he hesitated.
"S-she got in the way..."
"She was standing right there. You're the blind idiot who doesn't watch where he's going." Seung-tae shoved him against the wall. "Apologize to her. Now."
"Seung-tae..." you whispered, scared, grabbing his arm. "It's okay. Nothing happened."
He looked at you. He saw the fear in your eyes. Not fear of the guy, but fear of him. Of his reaction.
Seung-tae blinked, snapping out of his trance. He released the boy with disdain.
"Get out of my sight," he spat.
The guy and his friends ran out.
Seung-tae turned toward you, trying to recover his mask of a normal boy.
"Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"I'm okay..." you said, looking at him with curiosity and a bit of worry. "You were very... intense."
"He's an idiot, he could have hurt you." Seung-tae stroked your head, a possessive but gentle gesture. "You're too nice, ____. People take advantage of that. You have to be tougher."
"I don't want to be tough," you replied, taking your hot chocolate. "If we were all tough, the world would be horrible. But I can hire you as a bodyguard, right?"
Seung-tae smiled crookedly. He knew it was a joke, but to him, it sounded very serious.
"I like that job."
In that moment, he thought he could keep the two worlds separated forever. That he could be your hero in the park and the villain at school.
How wrong he was.
Two weeks had passed. It was Saturday. They had arranged to go to the movies at the mall. It was their first official "date" outside the park zone.
Seung-tae was nervous. He had worn his best clothes and combed his hair three times.
He saw you arrive. You were wearing a blue dress that fluttered in the wind and a denim jacket. You looked beautiful.
"Hi!" you greeted, running toward him.
But before you could reach him, a familiar voice shouted behind Seung-tae's back.
"Look who's here! The boss!"
Seung-tae froze.
He turned his head slowly. It was them. His "friends." They were there, with their disheveled clothes, laughing and shoving people around.
"Seung-tae, man, what are you doing here so far from your turf?" asked one, approaching and draping an arm around Seung-tae's shoulders.
Seung-tae tried to shrug him off.
"I have things to do. Leave."
"Things?" The friend looked ahead and saw you, standing a few meters away, confused.
A malicious grin crossed the friend's face.
"Well, well. Is this your 'thing'? She's cute. Very... innocent for you, isn't she?"
"Shut your mouth," Seung-tae warned, taking a step toward you to block their view. "It's none of your business."
"Come on, don't be like that. Introduce us to our new friend." Another one of the boys approached you, ignoring Seung-tae's warning. He looked you up and down shamelessly. "Hey, pretty girl. Do you know who your boyfriend is?"
"Leave her alone," Seung-tae growled.
"Why? We just want to chat." The guy laughed and, trying to be funny, kicked the gift bag you were holding in your hand. The bag fell, and something inside broke. "Ow... how clumsy. I should have asked if it was fragile, right?"
That was it.
Seung-tae lost control. He didn't think about you. He didn't think about the date. He only thought about the humiliation and his natural instinct to always be in control.
He grabbed the boy by the neck and punched him in the face. It was brutal. The sound of the impact made people around them scream.
The boy fell to the ground, bleeding from his nose.
But Seung-tae didn't stop. He got on top of him and hit him again. And again.
"I told you not to touch her!" Seung-tae screamed. "Who do you think you are?! I am Park Seung-tae! When I say something, it happens!"
His other friends, far from stopping him, were laughing and cheering.
"That's it, Seung-tae! Show him who's boss! Give him another one!"
Seung-tae was blind with rage. He felt powerful. He was protecting what was his.
He raised his fist to deliver the final blow...
"Seung-tae! Stop!"
Your scream broke his trance.
Seung-tae stopped, fist in the air, breathing heavily. He looked down. His friend was on the floor, crying and bleeding. His knuckles were red.
He looked up at you.
He expected to see admiration. Or gratitude, like that time in the café.
What he saw was horror.
You were pale, hands over your mouth, backing away. You were looking at Seung-tae as if he were a monster.
"____...?" Seung-tae stood up slowly.
"Who are you...?" you whispered.
One of Seung-tae's friends, who was still laughing, approached you.
"Come on, girl, don't tell me you don't know the King of Sejung. You should feel honored he even noticed a little rat like you."
Seung-tae shoved his friend away. "Shut your mouth!"
He approached you, hands outstretched.
"____, wait. It's not... they provoked it. They broke your gift..."
You looked at the bag on the floor. Then you looked at the blood on Seung-tae's hands.
"You kept hitting him... when he was already on the ground," you said, your voice trembling. "They... They were laughing while you did it..."
"That's how the world works," Seung-tae said desperately, attempting to use his usual logic. "If you don't show strength, they walk all over you. I did it for you. So they would respect you."
"No..." You shook your head, tears in your eyes. "That isn't respect, Seung-tae. That is cruelty."
"I am like this!" he shouted, frustrated that you didn't understand. "Yes, I am, at school. So what? With you, I'm different. With you, I'm good."
"You can't be two people at once..." you said, crying. "You're either good or you're a jerk... The boy... The boy I like can't be a bully..."
"____, please..."
"Don't come any closer."
You took another step back.
"I don't want to be the girlfriend of someone who enjoys hurting others. You scare me, Seung-tae. Right now... you scare me."
That sentence was like a shot to the chest.
Seung-tae froze. He watched as you turned around and ran through the crowd, leaving him alone with his "friends" who were congratulating him on the fight, and with the feeling that he had just lost the only thing that made him feel human.
A month passed.
A miserable month.
Seung-tae went to the park every day. He sat on the empty bench. He didn't smoke. He just waited.
But you didn't show up.
At school, Seung-tae was worse than ever. He was irritable, quiet. His lackeys tried to cheer him up by bothering someone, but Seung-tae just screamed at them to get lost.
He no longer felt satisfaction in seeing fear in others.
Every time he raised his voice, he heard your voice in his head: "You scare me."
And he hated himself.
He realized he had all the money in the world, all the reputation, but he felt poorer than ever because he was missing your burnt cookies and your smile.
One rainy Tuesday, Seung-tae couldn't take it anymore.
He went to your school.
He waited at the exit, in the rain, without an umbrella. He was soaked, hair plastered to his forehead. He looked like an abandoned dog.
He saw you walk out. You were with some friends, laughing, though your laugh didn't reach your eyes.
When you saw him, you stopped. Your friends asked you something, you shook your head, and they left, leaving you alone on the sidewalk.
Seung-tae walked toward you. Not with his usual arrogant stride. He walked slowly, head down.
He stopped two meters away.
"Hi..." he said. His voice sounded hoarse.
"Hi," you replied, hugging your books against your chest like a shield.
You looked at each other in the rain.
"I brought you this."
Seung-tae pulled a plastic bag out of his jacket, keeping it dry. Inside was a melon bread and a banana milk.
"I know you like them," he murmured. "And I know you had a history exam today and were probably nervous and didn't eat."
You looked at the food. Your eyes filled with tears.
"Why are you here, Seung-tae?"
"Because I'm an idiot," he admitted, looking at the ground. "I'm a bully. I'm arrogant. You were right. I'm cruel."
He looked up. His eyes were red, and you didn't know if it was from the rain or because he had been crying.
"But I miss you. I miss you so much it physically hurts. Melon bread is disgusting if you don't give me half of yours."
"Seung-tae..."
"I've changed," he said quickly, as if afraid you would leave. "Or I'm trying to. Really. I don't hit anyone anymore. Last week, one of my friends shoved a kid and I... I helped him up. I felt stupid, but I did it."
You took a step toward him, surprised.
"You did?"
"Yes. And I told my friends that if they bothered the freshmen again, they'd have to deal with me." Seung-tae grimaced. "Now they think I've gone crazy or joined a cult."
A small smile escaped your lips.
"But I don't care," he continued, taking another step, desperate. "I don't care about being the King of Sejung. I don't care if they think I'm weak. I just want to be the guy from the park who you give half your melon bread to. The boy you like. I just want to be Seung-tae for you."
He knelt down. There, in the middle of the wet sidewalk, Park Seung-tae, the millionaire and proud heir, knelt in front of you, soaking his trousers in a puddle.
"Please, ____. Teach me. Teach me to be good. I don't know how to do it alone. I need you."
Your heart broke.
Seeing him like that, so vulnerable, so willing to put his pride aside for you... it was the proof you needed. He wasn't just a bad boy. He was a lost boy who had found his way in you.
You dropped your books, which luckily landed on a dry patch under the bus stop roof, and ran to him.
"Get up, dummy," you said, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You're going to get sick."
"I won't get up until you tell me you forgive me."
"I forgive you." You knelt in front of him, not caring about your uniform. "I forgive you, Seung-tae."
He looked at you as if you were a miracle. "Really?"
"Yes. But you have to promise me you'll keep trying. That you won't use your fists to talk anymore."
"I swear." Seung-tae held your face with his cold, wet hands. "My hands will only be for this. To take care of you."
He kissed you.
It was a cold kiss because of the rain, but warm on the inside. Seung-tae kissed you with devotion, as if you were the air he needed to breathe.
When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours.
"So, are we back to being you and me?" he asked.
"You and me," you confirmed. "And the melon bread."
Seung-tae let out a relieved laugh, that genuine sound only you knew.
"Come on, you have to get changed, it's freezing..."
You both stood up. He picked up your books and took your hand.
"Hey, ____..."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think you could make me those burnt cookies tomorrow?" he asked, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. "I bought some at the bakery yesterday and they tasted like cardboard compared to yours."
You laughed and squeezed his hand.
"Of course. But you're paying for the hot chocolate today."
"I'll pay whatever you want. I'm rich, remember?"
"Shut up and walk, show-off."
You walked in the rain, but Seung-tae didn't care anymore. He was no longer the king of a school.
He was the boyfriend of the melon bread girl, and for the first time in his life, that title was enough.
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.
