clematiss45

[clematiss45]

Yeon Sieun using you as his stress reliever from his studies. ❀⋆ೃ࿔

WARNINGS/TAGS MDNI 18+, explicit content, mentions of p in v sex, clit stim, grinding, oral m!receiving, mean Sieun

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It all started when you were trying to tease Sieun in his room.

Climbing into his lap, grinding against his thigh, whimpering and whining, you were doing everything to get him to pay attention to you. Sieun was determined at first, focusing on his literature report whilst he tried to hold back his moans, but when you had gone as far as unzipping his pants and taking his length into your mouth he completely broke his resolve, grabbed you by fistfuls of your hair and fucked your throat, just using your mouth like it was his personal fleshlight.

From then onwards, he was addicted to you.

Whenever you two were together in his room during your study sessions, and he simply couldn’t figure out the solution to a math problem, it would always end up with him fucking your throat or cunt. And the sex got more intense over time as he got better and gave into his suppressed desires.

And he was mean whenever he was upset over an unsolvable question. Eyes dark and mouth slightly parted from the pleasure as he completely took it out on you, his cock driving into your tight pussy with surprising rigour.

To be honest, you loved this side of him, which you never saw outside of this room. Fucking you so meanly whilst whispering the nastiest things to you.

“God, you’re so tight.”

The bed was creaking from how hard Sieun was fucking into you, grabbing onto your hips to hold you in place as he repeatedly thrusted up against your sweet spot. The side of his lips curled into a smirk as he watched in satisfaction as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

As if the pleasure wasn’t enough, his hands slid over your stomach and pressed down over where his cock was buried in your pussy and you let out a squeal. Sieun leaned in close, his lips brushing over your neck and to your jaw as his other hand moved to thumb your clit, the contact of his finger against your bud sending electric shocks up your body.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” His breath was hot against your neck as his index finger drew teasing circles around your clit. “You’ll cum, won’t you?” You could only nod, your brains had turned into mush from how good Sieun was dicking you down and you could barely form words.

Your body took his words like it was a command, grabbing his arm like an anchor as you convulsed his thick cock. A soft, satisfied noise left his lips as he watched you come undone underneath him, and he finally pulled out of you.

He took out his napkin from his study table and gently dabbed at your inner thighs, dragging the soft silk over your slit as he held your hand.

“You know, I think I finally figured it out. The answer to that last calculus question.”

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[clematiss45]

Hellooo can u please write a lee suhyeok x fem! reader(who is cheong-san's sister or wujin's) where theyre both dating and reader is basically kenma kozume from haikyuu, so reader is obsessed with video games and always carries her nintendo, a natural genius, an anti social, always stays up late and cant Really take care for herself

also this is just an idea and i would love it if you make it

thank youu<⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

Level Up

Pairing: Lee Su-hyeok x reader (Cheong-san x sister!reader)

A/N: I'm finally doing my first requested story :). Sorry it took a bit to get out, the past week has been a busy one.

I haven't watched haikyuu in ages, so though I remember kenma kozume I don't remember exactly how he acted, but I hope I got it somewhat right just based off the description you gave me. Also (I truly mean no shade by this at all, I personally do not mind double requests) but I know a request was sent in with a similar prompt to another tumblr account. I purposefully did not read the fic they wrote (though I will check it out as soon as I post this) so I wouldn't accidentally get inspired - so if there are any similarities they are totally coincidentally :)

Credit to @uzmacchiato and @huraxy for the borders

Su-hyeok didn't wake up to the birds chirping or a subtle ray of sunlight hitting his face.

He woke up to the sound of the beeping noise of your Nintendo Switch and the slight noise of buttons being mashed.

Rolling over, his face still smushed up on the pillow, he looked down to see you curled up on the floor, playing your usual video game.

“Come back to bed, babe,” He pleaded, and you jumped at the sudden noise. Your game console made a ‘game over noise’ and you frowned. “I was so close to beating that level.”

“Oh no, now you have to come back to bed,” Su-hyeok spoke sarcastically, trying to grab and pull you back in. You rolled your eyes as his arms barely left the comfortable sheets they were buried under. His eyes were barely even open.

“It’s not good to sleep in. You're a bright young man who should be up and productive.”

He sent you a sleepy glare. “Well, it’s not good to wake up early to play video games, it’ll ruin your eyes,” He debated, and you stared blankly for a moment. “Touche,”

He grinned, finally actually grabbing your hand and trying to pull you back. “Now come on, let’s sleep more.”

“Seriously, Su-hyeok, we can’t. School starts in an hour, you don't have any of your things…. and Cheong-san is already awake."

This seemed to get Su-hyeok bolting up, looking terrified at you. You couldn't help but smile at your boyfriend’s panicked face.

The two of you had been dating for several months, and despite your deep love for each other, you had yet to tell anybody about your relationship.

You weren't too fond of the idea of gaining extra attention from dating such a well-known face around the school, and Su-hyeok wasn’t too fond of having Cheong-san rip him to shreds.

Cheong-san, your twin brother, had always been a bit protective of you. You were never good at making friends as a child, and he took it as his role to make sure you were taken care of.

Years later, not a lot had changed, and Cheong-san had grown a protective aura around you. He had made it clear to all of his friends that none of them were responsible enough to even think about dating his twin.

Especially his friends with questionable pasts and nicknames like "Bare-su"

Because of this, you and Su-hyeok mutually agreed that you would keep your relationship a secret until you could come up with a way to slowly ease everyone into the idea of you dating.

That didn't change the fact that he loved to come over and spend the night, even if it meant having to sneak around your brother.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He scrambled up, looking around the room for his things. If he didn't leave now, he'd run the risk of getting caught.

“I already put your things in a bag, filled up a water bottle, and threw in a snack. All you have to do now is go home and get your uniform.” You gestured to the bag of things near your window, which had already been opened for him to escape.

He let out a sigh of relief, moving over ot you and giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” He praised, grabbing the bag and moving to the window. “If only you put as much effort into taking care of yourself.”

It was a well-known fact that you tended to… get distracted by your games and forgot to do basic human things. It didn't help that you were highly academically gifted, so not only did you never have to actually put down the game and try to study, but teachers often let you get away with more since you were a top student. It was a dangerous combination for your gaming addiction.

Though Su-hyeok spoke in a teasing tone, there was truth behind his words. He really did wish you would do more to care for yourself… even he loved taking care of you.

You shrugged. “It’s just easier when you're the one I'm taking care of.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips, and he smiled at you giddily, before jumping down out the window.

He waved at you goodbye, and you returned it before closing the window.

“Really, you again?” Su-hyeok shifted his gaze to the sudden voice, seeing an older lady glaring at him. He looked down at himself, realizing he was still in his pajamas, standing in the ladies' garden. He sent the older lady a smile. “May I say that you are looking absolutely gorgeous-”

“I won't tell anyone, just get out of my home,” The woman sighed, used to having the sneaking teen landing in her front yard.

Su-hyeok gave her an enthusiastic bow, thanking the woman.

“Just hurry up and get to school.”

Su-hyeok didn't need to be told twice, running away in hopes he wouldn't be forced into detention for being late. 

Even if he did, it would still have been worth it to get to spend a fraction of the morning with you.

---

Su-hyeok walked into the classroom, out of breath but on time.

Instinctively, his eyes instantly landed on where you sat, a smile forming on his face to see you had already arrived. You were engrossed in a video game, your eyes rappidly scanning over the screen.

Cheong-san sat on your desk, talking to Gyeong-su and Dae-su, every so often trying to get you to join the conversation. You would give short responses, even shorter if Gyeong-su or Dae-su were the ones to ask, but your eyes didn't once leave the console in your hands.

“Yo Bare-su, what do you think of On-jo?” Dae-su asked, and Cheong-san instantly blushed, pushing the boy. “Shut up.”

“Ohhh, does Cheong-san have a crush?” Su-hyeok teased, and the boy shook his head. “No, I don't.”

“Yes, he does.” You spoke up simply. Again, your eyes didn't leave the console, but Su-hyeok was filled with joy by the fact that he was the first one to get you to talk up on your own.

“Shut up,” Cheong-san hissed, reaching out to grab your console, but you instantly moved away. He gronaed, now even more embarrassed.

“It’s ok to have a crush,” Gyeong-su patted his best friend on the back, though his hand was quickly shimmied off.

“I don’t-” Cheong-san groaned, stomping his foot. “It’s not fair, I have all my shit on display. Why don't we ask Su-hyeok about his crush?”

“I don't have a crush,”

Su-hyeok cursed himself, realizing his mistake in instantly getting defensive so quickly.

Cheong-san, Gyeong-su, and Dae su all instantly lit up, it being clear that Su-hyeok did in fact have a crush.

If only they knew that he actually had a girlfriend who was sitting right next to them, mindlessly playing her game.

Luckily, Su-hyeok was saved by the fact that Ms. Park had entered the room, directing them all to their seats.

Throughout the class, his gaze kept returning to you, where you sat, still glued to your screen, which you had subtly hidden underneath your desk. Slight glances turned into stares, and by the end of the class, his eyes were glued to you, smiling slightly as he watched your reactions to various things happening on your screen.

The bell rang, snapping him out of his stare.

“Come on, Bare-su time for lunch,” Gyeong-su announced proudly.

“Yeah, we want to hear about the girl you're in love with,” Dae-su teased, gaining the attention of the other guys, who all began prodding and teasing him. He shrugged them off, though not well enough, as he was dragged out of the classroom.

He looked ot your seat, where you sat still playing your game. Usually, Cheong-san would grab you and let you sit quietly with the boys during lunch, but he was too distracted bullying Su-hyeok to even notice you.

‘Maybe she just wants to finish the level,’ He thought, as he watched you. The only movement you had made was bringing your console up from under your desk so you could get a better sight.

As he sat at lunch, he ignored the teasing of the boys about his crush, quick to distract them with another topic so that they would lay off him. While they all chatted, he stared at the cafeteria entrance, waiting for you to join them.

But you never did.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Su-hyeok suddenly announced, abruptly standing up. Turning to his friends, he received blank stares.

“You didn;t need to tell us that,” Gyeong-su pointed out, a little disgusted by the announcement, but Su-hyeok was already ignoring him, stomping out of the cafeteria.

Instead of going to the bathroom, Su-hyeok headed straight up to the classroom. Entering, he was not surprised to see you sitting in the exact spot he had left you in.

Back slouched over the desk, tongue slightly out as your eyes scanned across the screen.

Moving so he was right in front of your desk, Su-hyeok tapped his foot and cleared his thorat.

Instantly recognizing the sound, you paused your game, looking up at your boyfriend.

“Hi,” You gave him a small smile, one that almost melted away all of his earlier frustrations. You didn't even seem to know what you were doing, just happy to see your boyfriend.

“Have you forgotten something?” He asked, trying to keep a stern persona. You paused, looking around confused, before slowly standing up and kissing him on the cheek.

You looked expectedly at him, wondering if you had guessed correctly.

He shock his head. “You weren't in the cafeteria.”

“Oh” You shrugged, sitting back down. “That’s fine, I never really talk to anyone there anyway,”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how about eating? How were you planning on doing that without going to the cafeteria?” He knew for a fact you hadn't packed your own lunch.

You looked at him blankly, the gears turning in your head as you realized you, in fact, hadn't even thought about eating. “Oops?” You spoke, and Su-hyeok groaned.

“You need to eat, Babe, it’s not good for your brain to not have food.”

You sighed. “I know, I know”

Su-hyeok gently took the console out of your hand, turning it off. If anyone else had done that, you would have whacked them over the head, but Su-hyeok had the unique trait of being more interesting than video games to you.

“I love you,” Su-hyeok spoke quietly, and you smiled. “I love you too.”

You leaned in, sharing a kiss.

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening startled you, as you quickly turned around.

There stood Gyeong-su, his mouth agape as he watched the two of you.

“Holy shit!” 

---

It had been a month since Geyong-su had ‘walked in on you and Su-hyeok’.

One month of having the loudest-mouthed student in your class know about your deepest secret.

Su-hyeok made sure to bribe the boy with constant lunches, and you promised Gyeong-su to teach him how to defeat any game level for the rest of your life. All just for him to not tell anyone.

And aside from a few raised eyebrows or giggles every time you two were seen together, Geyong-su had done a pretty good job at keeping quiet.

If anything, this shared secret gave you a jumping point for friendship, and for the first time ever, you had someone other than your boyfriend and brother to talk to.

Gyeong-su, being so social, had introduced you to new people… well, old people that you had always felt too awkward to talk to.

You were nowhere near talkative, but you could now hold a conversation with I-sak and On-jo, which was a start. This new friendship was what led Gyeong-su to suggest to Cheong-san that they have a video game tournament at his house, so you could join in.

Unfortunately, that event would be the downfall of this arrangement.

“God damn it,” Gyeong-su yelled as you defeated him in yet another round of Mario Kart.

He would always come so close to coming first, but you would swoop in at the last second, taking the gold.

“Calm down,” I-sak complained as she crossed the finish line, coming a respectable fifth. Dae-su was still stuck in last place, Wu-jin beside him, trying to teach him how to use the controls properly.

Su-hyeok laughed at Gyeong-su’s outburst.

“She has to be cheating,” He accused, pointing at you, who was barely paying attention.

“She’s not cheating,” Cheong-san rolled his eyes.

“Then how is she always winning?”

“Do you not see her playing the switch all the time? Of course, she’s winning,” On-jo pointed out in your defense.

“But…but…it’s not fair,” Geyong-su whined, stomping his feet.

“Look, dude, don’t be upset just because she’s better than you.” Su-hyeok chuckled, trying to hide his pride in you.

"Well, of course you'd say that, she's your girlfriend."

There was dead silence in the room.

The only noise was the victory music as Dae-su finally crossed the finish line, though the boy was just staring between you and Su-hyeok.

Gyeong-su covered his mouth, his brain only just catching up to what he had said. Even you had looked up from the screen.

Almost in sync, everyone in the room turned to look at Cheong-san.

Cheong-san sat there blankly before slowly turning to Gyeong-su.

“Pardon me?” He asked in a scarily calm way.

“He has no idea what he’s talking about. He just wants to cause drama, I would-” Cheong-san raised a hand, stopping Su-hyeok from saying anything more. He turned to you this time. “Are you two dating?”

You started blankly, your mind completely null of any possible excuses. You were just as surprised as everybody else about it.

Unfortunately, your silence was enough of an answer for Cheong-san.

“I’m going to kill you, Bare-su.” He tackled Su-hyeok to the ground, awkwardly trying to hit him. Su-hyeok gronaed, as he tried to push your brother away without actually hurting him.

On-jo laughed as Dae-su and Wujin quickly moved to try to separate the two fighting boys.

“I’m sorry, man, but I love her,” Su-hyeok combatted, which only enraged Cheong-san more. “You punk. You’re immoral. You haven't even asked permission."

“He doesn't need permission,” You scoffed, though your words were ignored as Cheong-san continued to fight Su-hyeok.

Strangely enough, watching your brother beat up your boyfriend made you realize something. Looking around the room, full of students that a month ago you would have been mortified if they found out about your relationship, you didn't mind. If anything, you felt relieved that they found out.

You really had come a long way.

“Oh man, I think you're pulling out my hair.”

“Good!”

You sighed, moving forward to drag Cheong-san away from your boyfriend.

Now that the secret was out, you were positive this wasn't going to be the last fight between the two you’d have to break up. 

[clematiss45]

Hellooo, Can I please request a part 2 of "In his Warmth" where reader misunderstood that Suhyeok likes Namra bc he keeps on meeting her after every lunch(and reader, being sensitive and possesive) immediantly sulks all day, days. Like she's not really nonchalant compared to how people view her(she never was non chalant😂✌️) and Cheong-san, despite not being really close to her immediantly notice her change, and he remembers how reader will always sulk when something happened between her and Suhyeok, so he immediantly confronted Suhyeok. And can i also request overprotective Cheong-san???

Thank youuu(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Didn't thought about a part two for this one but this quit a good idea !! I hope you'll like it haha <3 If you guys ever want second part don't hesitate to ask me for it if I didn't say that I think about one :)

In His Warmth

Part Two

✮ Summary : Request above ↑

✮ Contains : Angst, jealousy, fluff/comfort

✮ Pairing : Lee Su-hyeok x reader (feat : Cheongsan as a protective brother)

✮ Word Count : 1705 words

꩜ Part One

The following days were a study in blissful, quiet contentment. Suhyeok’s promise echoed in your mind, a soothing mantra that quieted the incessant, anxious whispers of your past. He was right. When you were with him, you were a different person. You laughed, you smiled, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. You let yourself simply be, and it was the most freeing feeling in the world.

Then, things changed.

It started subtly. A brief glance in the hallways. A shared, easy laugh in the lunchroom. A casual hand on her shoulder as they walked. The subject of his attention wasn't On-jo, not this time. It was Namra.

You saw it, but you tried to ignore it. After all, Namra was the class president, and Suhyeok was friendly with everyone. It was probably nothing. He was just being nice. But then, you started noticing a pattern. Every day, after lunch, he would meet her outside the library. Their conversations were quiet, their heads bent close together, and their smiles were soft and genuine. It was a warmth you had come to associate only with yourself, and seeing him share it with someone else sent a sharp, cold jolt of pain through your chest.

Your protective walls, once so carefully dismantled, began to rebuild themselves, brick by painful brick. The smiles and easy laughter you’d found with Suhyeok disappeared, replaced by a sullen silence. You stopped meeting him after school and started eating lunch alone in the library again, the hollow relief of isolation returning with a vengeance. You knew you were being irrational, that you were succumbing to the same toxic possessiveness you had promised yourself you would fight, but you couldn't help it. The sight of him with Namra felt like a betrayal, a confirmation of the fear that had always haunted you: you weren't enough. You never would be.

Cheong-san noticed.

He wasn't an idiot, and even though you two weren't close, he wasn't blind. He knew you better than anyone else in that school. He’d lived with you. He'd seen the way you closed yourself off from the world, a ghost in your own home. And he’d seen the subtle, gradual change in you ever since Suhyeok entered your life. He saw the genuine smiles that only Suhyeok could coax out of you, the small, tender touches you allowed no one else to give you.

And now, he saw you retreating. He saw the return of the sullen silence and the stony expression that had once been your constant companion. He saw you eating alone in the library, your head down, your shoulders hunched as if to ward off an invisible blow. It was the same behavior he'd seen countless times before, whenever you and Suhyeok had a small argument. The way you immediately fell into a defensive, self-isolating shell. Only this time, it was different. You hadn't fought. You hadn't even spoken. And that was what worried him the most.

He found Suhyeok in the hallway after school, leaning against a locker, scrolling through his phone. Cheong-san grabbed him by the front of his uniform shirt and slammed him against the lockers, his grip tight. Suhyeok looked up, surprised, but a single glance at Cheong-san’s face told him this wasn’t a friendly prank.

“What’s wrong with her?” Cheong-san’s voice was low and dangerous. “What did you do?”

Suhyeok’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about? Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Cheong-san snarled. “My sister. She’s been sulking all week, and you’re the only person who can do that to her. The only person who she lets get close enough to hurt.”

Suhyeok’s eyes widened in realization. He pushed Cheong-san’s hand off his shirt, but there was no aggression in the movement. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, his voice tinged with genuine confusion and concern. “We haven’t even talked all week. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Well, you better figure it out,” Cheong-san snapped, his fists clenched at his sides. “Because she’s falling apart. You’re the only one who can get through to her, and if you screw this up… if you break her heart…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but the implicit threat was clear. Cheong-san had always been a protector, and with his sister, that instinct was multiplied tenfold. He’d seen the way she was before Suhyeok, and he wouldn’t let her go back to that. Not now. Not ever.

He turned and walked away, leaving Suhyeok to stare after him, a profound sense of dread settling in his stomach. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew Cheong-san was right. He had to fix it. He couldn’t lose you.

Suhyeok couldn't shake Cheong-san’s words from his mind. His protective fury, the raw concern in his voice—it was all a stark, painful wake-up call. Suhyeok had been so caught up in his own little world, oblivious to the fact that he was hurting the one person he promised he would never let down. He spent the entire evening replaying his conversations with Namra, trying to figure out what he could have possibly done to cause such a misunderstanding. As he did, he realized they weren't conversations with Namra at all. They were conversations about you.

He and Namra were friends, yes, but their recent talks were all about how to help you. Namra, being the class president, had noticed a change in your grades and your attendance at the library study sessions she organized. She approached Suhyeok to ask if everything was okay, knowing he was the only one you truly opened up to. Suhyeok, concerned himself, had been using their meetings to ask for advice on how to get you to open up more and stop isolating yourself. He had been trying to find new ways to reach you, to get you to see that you were safe with him, that he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d even told her about your past, about your fear of being left behind, hoping she could offer some insight. He was trying to protect you, to love you in a way he thought you needed, and in doing so, he had done the one thing he swore he wouldn't: he made you feel alone.

The next day, Suhyeok was a man on a mission. He found you in the library, as expected. You were tucked away in a back corner, a book open on your desk, but your gaze was distant. He walked over and stood in front of you, his hands resting on the table, blocking your view. You didn't look up.

“Look at me,” he said softly, but you just shook your head. He gently took the book and placed it to the side, then sat down in the chair next to yours, turning to face you. He reached for your hand, but you pulled it back, a silent shield between the two of you.

“Okay, don’t hold my hand,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet desperation. “But please, just listen to me. I need you to listen.”

You finally looked at him, and your eyes were a reflection of the cold, blank expression you had worn when he first met you. The sight was a punch to the gut. This wasn't his girl. This was the girl who had been hurt too many times. He had to fix this.

“I know what you think you saw,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Me and Namra. We’ve been meeting, I know. But it’s not what you think. It was never what you think.”

You scoffed, a single, bitter sound. “So what was it, then? A new study group? You just suddenly had an interest in the class president?”

The words, laced with hurt and jealousy, were a confirmation of your fears. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “We were talking about you. I was talking to her to get advice on how to help you. About your grades, about how you’ve been isolating yourself again. I was so worried about you, and I was too stupid to see that me doing that would only hurt you more.”

You stared at him, your composure finally cracking. A single tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, and he immediately reached out, his thumb gently wiping it away. You didn’t pull away this time. The touch was a lifeline, a familiar warmth you had been so desperately missing.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I am so, so sorry. I know I messed up. I know I made you feel like you weren’t enough, but that’s all on me. It was a stupid, terrible mistake, and I promise you, it will never happen again. You are the only person I want to talk to, the only person I want to be with.”

He moved closer, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “Cheong-san yelled at me,” he said with a small, sad smile. “He told me I was hurting you, and he was right. He said you were falling apart, and I can see it now. I can see what I’ve done.”

At the mention of your brother, the last of your defenses crumbled. The fear, the possessiveness, the overwhelming sense of loneliness—it all came rushing out in a choked sob. You leaned into his touch, your own hands coming up to grip his wrists.

“Don’t… don’t leave me,” you whimpered, the same words you had whispered to him weeks ago, and they held the same weight of desperation.

“Never,” he said, his voice a fierce promise, his eyes burning with an intense resolve. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, your head resting against his chest. “I am not going anywhere. You are stuck with me, and I am stuck with you. And you are everything to me. Don’t you ever think anything else.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, holding on tight, burying your face in his shirt. You let the tears fall freely, finally letting go of the pain you’d been holding inside. He was here. He hadn’t left. The sound of his steady heartbeat was the only proof you needed.

꩜ Masterlist

꩜ One shots requests opened

[clematiss45]

Helllloooo, Can I please request a Yeon Sieun x Sleepy! reader where reader is always sleepy even though she gets more than enough sleep at night and one thing that could keep her awake is sweets, and Sieun always carries some sweets in his bag to supply reader even though he doesn't like sweets that much.

Thank youuu(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

That's sooo cuuute :3 There it is <3

Sweet Distraction

✮ Summary : Request above ↑

✮ Contains : Fluff, only fluff

✮ Pairing : Yeon Sieun x sleepy!reader

✮ Word Count : 1641 words

A low hum of contentment escaped your lips as you leaned your head against the cool library window. The afternoon sun, a warm blanket of gold, streamed through the glass, doing its best to lull you into a peaceful slumber. Across the table, Yeon Sieun was, as usual, a picture of intense focus. His pen scratched rhythmically against the pages of his textbook, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Your eyes fluttered shut.

"You're falling asleep again," a quiet voice cut through the silence.

You jolted upright, a soft gasp escaping your lips. You offered a sheepish smile. "No, I'm not. I was just... resting my eyes."

Sieun's lips twitched into a tiny, almost imperceptible smile. Without a word, he reached into his backpack, a well-practiced motion you'd grown to love. The familiar rustle of a wrapper filled the air, and then a small, foil-wrapped treat was placed on the table in front of you.

You recognized the brand immediately. It was a milk caramel candy, one of your favorites. Your eyes lit up, the grogginess from a moment ago fading into the background.

"Sieun, you're the best," you said, unwrapping the candy with a childlike glee. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He didn't reply, just returned to his textbook. But you could see the slight curve of his lips, the way his shoulders seemed to relax just a bit. He didn't have a sweet tooth himself, but he always made sure to stock his bag with a variety of sugary snacks—candies, chocolates, jellies—all for you. It was his subtle way of showing he cared, his silent act of affection.

You popped the caramel into your mouth, the sweet, milky flavor a jolt of energy that chased the last vestiges of sleep from your mind. Now, you could finally get to work. With a newfound determination, you picked up your pen and turned to the page you'd been staring at for the last fifteen minutes. Beside you, Sieun continued his quiet work, the gentle scratching of his pen a comforting soundtrack to your now-alert mind.

Another hour passed in the quiet study room, the only sounds being the rustle of pages and the soft tapping of your pen. The sugar rush from the caramel was starting to wane, and you could feel the familiar pull of sleep once more. Your eyelids felt heavy, and you found yourself staring at the same line of text over and over again, your brain refusing to process the information.

You stifled a yawn, but it wasn't enough to escape Sieun's notice. He glanced at you, his sharp eyes immediately picking up on your droopy posture and the subtle slump of your shoulders.

Without a word, he closed his book and leaned back in his chair. "Take a break," he said, his voice calm and firm.

"But I need to finish this chapter," you protested, your voice a sleepy mumble. "The exam is coming up soon."

"And you won't retain anything if you're half-asleep," he countered, his gaze unwavering. He reached into his bag again, pulling out a small container. "I brought you some jelly."

You perked up instantly. Jelly was your absolute favorite. The thought of the fruity, chewy treat was enough to make your mouth water. He handed you the container, and you eagerly peeled back the lid, scooping a spoonful into your mouth. The sweet, tangy flavor exploded on your tongue, a welcome contrast to the dry textbook you'd been staring at for hours.

Sieun watched you for a moment, a small, fond smile on his face. He found your simple joy in such small things endearing. It was a stark contrast to his own world, filled with calculations, strategies, and the constant pressure to be the best. You, with your perpetual sleepiness and your love for all things sweet, were a small pocket of warmth and light in his otherwise serious life.

He didn't say it aloud, but he knew he'd continue to carry a stash of sweets with him wherever he went, a silent promise to always keep you awake and by his side. It was a small act, but it was a testament to the quiet, steadfast way he cared for you. He was your anchor, and you were his sweet escape.

The next day, the study group was gathered in a different room, a more casual space with comfortable armchairs. The others—Humin, Gotak, and Juntae—were all there, their textbooks and laptops scattered around the low coffee table. Sieun, as usual, was a beacon of focus, his posture ramrod straight as he absorbed the information on his screen.

You, on the other hand, were already on the verge of slumber. Your head drooped, and your notes were starting to blur into a single, indecipherable mess. You'd already had your morning coffee, but it hadn't stood a chance against your perpetual sleepiness.

Humin, ever the observant one, noticed your struggle. He glanced at Sieun with a knowing smirk. "Looks like someone needs a sugar boost," he said, winking at you.

Sieun sighed, the sound barely audible. He reached for his backpack, but before he could even unzip it, Humin's hand shot out.

"Come on, just one," Humin pleaded, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've been studying hard, too."

Smack!

Sieun's hand, quick and precise, slapped Humin's away. "No," he said, his voice as cold as ice. "They're not for you."

Humin rubbed his hand, feigning pain. "Geez, Sieun, what's with the attitude? It's just candy."

But Sieun ignored him, his gaze fixed on you. He pulled out a small packet of chocolate squares and placed them on the table in front of you. You picked one up, a small smile gracing your lips as you unwrapped it. Humin grumbled but eventually went back to his own work, defeated. The rest of the group just shook their heads, used to the routine by now.

A few days later, you and Sieun were alone in the library, a quiet bubble of concentration. You'd been working on a particularly difficult problem for what felt like an eternity, and the familiar wave of exhaustion was washing over you.

"Sieun," you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. "I'm tired."

He didn't look up from his book. "Just a little longer. We're almost done."

You tried to focus, you really did. But your eyelids felt like lead, and the numbers on the page were swimming before your eyes. You let out a soft whine, your head drooping onto your arms.

"I need a candy," you mumbled into the crook of your elbow.

Sieun finally looked at you, his expression softening slightly. He reached for his bag, but then hesitated. "No," he said, his voice firm. "You've had enough sweets for today. It's not healthy."

Your head shot up, your eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" You pouted, your bottom lip jutting out. "But... I can't stay awake without them."

He remained unmoved. "You can try."

You tried to, but it was no use. You slumped back in your chair, a deep scowl on your face. You gave him your best puppy-dog eyes, your lips pursed in a perfect pout. You even let out a small, pathetic sigh.

It was an expression that had, over time, become your secret weapon. And it worked every single time. Sieun's resolve, once as solid as a rock, began to crack. He fidgeted, his eyes darting from your face to his backpack and back again. The internal battle was obvious.

Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he gave in. He unzipped his bag and pulled out a lollipop. "Just this one," he muttered, thrusting it into your hand. "And no more after this."

You beamed, your entire face lighting up. "Thank you, Sieun!" you chirped, a spring in your step as you started working again, the lollipop a source of sweet, sugary energy.

Later that day, when you were back with the group, Humin noticed the lollipop stick protruding from your mouth. He glanced at Sieun, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"So, you caved, huh?" Humin teased, his voice full of mirth. "What was it? The pout? The puppy-dog eyes?"

Sieun’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he just glared at Humin, refusing to dignify the question with an answer. He knew he was being teased, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. After all, the sight of your happy, awake face was worth any amount of teasing.

Humin's grin widened, and Gotak and Juntae, who had been trying to stifle their laughter, finally let it out.

"Puppy eyes?" Gotak snorted, wiping a tear from his eye. "I've never seen Sieun fold so fast in my life."

"She's got him wrapped around his finger," Juntae added, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

Sieun's face, now a deeper shade of red, remained impassive, but you could see the slight tension in his jaw. "We have an exam soon," he said, trying to redirect the conversation. "Focus."

You, however, were too delighted to let it go. You unwrapped your lollipop, the sweet scent of strawberry filling the air. You leaned over and gently tapped Sieun's arm. "Hey, Sieun," you whispered, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Is it my puppy eyes or my pout that works best?"

His gaze met yours, a mixture of exasperation and warmth in their depths. He didn't answer, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards just a little. It was a private moment, a silent understanding between the two of you that the others wouldn't get.

He was the logical, calculating leader. You were the perpetually sleepy, sweets-loving distraction. He would always deny it, always pretend to be annoyed, but everyone knew the truth. You were his one and only weakness, and he would gladly surrender a whole bag of candy to see you smile.

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꩜ One shots requests opened

[clematiss45]

Helloooo, Can i please request another Lee Suhyeok x Cheong-san's sister! Reader where Reader is literally so cold too everyone and she could come off as rude, even too Cheong-san, like she doesn't open up to everyone, including her parents and even Cheong-san, but she ONLY has one soft spot which is Suhyeok, like he's the only person she could be a softie, she could smile, and she would study the subjects that Suhyeok strugles with. And even though everyone thinks that Reader is cold and rude as hell, she's actually really senstive like she could tear up when someone judges her.

Thank youuu(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

First of all, don't worry I paid attention to your other message !! And also I don't really know what to think about what I made so I hope you'll like and that I didn't disappoint you <3

In His Warmth

✮ Summary : Request above ↑

✮ Contains : Angst, insecurities ig, fluff/comfort

✮ Pairing : Lee Su-hyeok x Reader (feat : Cheong-san as brother)

✮ Word Count : 1610 words

For as long as you could remember, you were just 'you,' or 'stupid,' or a laundry list of other insults your aunt would spit at you. She never used your name, said it was a waste of breath. Her house was a cage of rules and expectations you could never meet.

Love, she'd laugh in her cold, brittle way, was a fantasy for fools. She died suddenly, and the silence that filled her home was so loud it hurt your ears. You were an orphan until Mrs. Lee, a woman with a soft smile and gentle eyes, took you in.

She was a ghost from your past, a friend of your mother's. Her son, Cheong-san, was a whirlwind of energy you didn’t know how to handle. He was loud, always laughing, and completely oblivious to the wall you’d built around yourself.

One evening, he tried to show you a video on his phone. "Look at this, it's so funny!" he said, but you just kept your gaze on your plate, the food suddenly tasteless. He eventually gave up, and you felt a familiar, hollow relief. You were a ghost in their home, and that's how you preferred it.

High school was no different. You were an island in a sea of teenagers. You walked the halls with your head down, your gaze fixed on the ground, letting the whispers follow you. "Ice Princess," they'd call you. "Stone-face." It was a title you had earned, a shield that kept people away.

The library was your sanctuary, the quiet a soothing balm to the noise of the world. One afternoon, you saw him—Suhyeok. He was hunched over a math book, his brow furrowed in frustration. He was a stark contrast to you, a boy who laughed easily and made the hallways feel a little brighter.

He noticed you sitting across from him, but his eyes held no judgment. He just sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't figure this out," he mumbled to himself. The next day, you found yourself back in the library, a math book open to the same chapter. Without a word, you wrote the key formulas on a scrap of paper and slid it across the table.

Your hand had moved without your permission. He looked at the paper, then at you, a soft smile on his face. "You didn't have to do that," he said. You just shrugged, a strange, warm feeling blooming in your chest. "It's fine," you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper. It was the most you'd spoken to anyone in months.

That was the start of it. Slowly, meticulously, you let your guard down around him. He didn’t push you, didn't ask you to be more than you were willing to be. His warmth was a steady presence you began to crave.

One day, while he was telling you a silly story about a dog, a genuine laugh escaped your lips, a sound you hadn't made in years. The surprise on his face was replaced by a wide, gentle smile, and you couldn't help but smile back. It was a real smile.

With him, you could be soft. You found yourself leaning your head on his shoulder in the library and laughing at his terrible jokes. He was the first person you ever allowed yourself to feel love for, and he became your entire world.

Your world had him and only him. The possessiveness was a part of you, a dark shadow that followed you everywhere. Your aunt's words echoed in your head: "Love is a trick." You were terrified of losing him, of him realizing you weren't worth it.

One day, you saw him in the hallway with Cheong-san. Your brother was laughing and slapping Suhyeok on the back, and the sight sent a cold wave of jealousy through you. Cheong-san was family, but when he was with Suhyeok, he was a rival, an obstacle. You narrowed your eyes, a silent warning only you understood. But the real problem was On-jo.

You noticed the way she looked at him, the soft expression in her eyes, the way she'd laugh a little too loudly at his jokes. Your blood ran cold when you overheard her talking with a friend in the hallway one afternoon. "I really like Suhyeok," she whispered, her voice too hopeful for your liking.

The rage that surged through you was a fire you had to fight to keep contained. You began to glare at her, the look in your eyes sharp enough to cut glass. You made sure she knew you were watching. The feeling of irritation and annoyance was a constant buzzing in your ears.

"Did you see her glaring at On-jo again?" a girl whispered in the hallway. "She's so possessive. It's really creepy."

"I know," another one replied. "Suhyeok is so nice, but I don't know how he deals with her. She's a total bitch."

The words hit you like a physical blow. You stopped walking, your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes burned, and your vision blurred. You quickly ducked into the empty girl’s bathroom, tears streaming down your face.

Their words, whispered like daggers, confirmed every fear you had. Was I too much? Was I creepy? Was I not good enough for him? You wiped your eyes furiously, disgusted with your own weakness.

Then a new thought, a poisonous whisper, snaked its way into your mind. "Maybe On-jo is better for Suhyeok." She was kind, sweet, and social. She wasn't an ice queen with a possessive streak and a traumatic past.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd be happier with her. The thought sent a jolt of pain through you, a raw, sharp agony that made your breath catch in your throat. You couldn't bear it.

No. You shook your head, your reflection in the mirror a distorted mess of tear-streaked anger. You wouldn't let yourself go there. He was yours. He was the first thing you had ever fought for, the first thing you had ever loved. You wouldn't let him go. You wouldn't let her have him.

The tears dried, replaced by a fierce resolve. You wouldn't let your fears, or your past, ruin the one good thing you had.You left the bathroom and the cold mask of the Ice Princess settled back into place.

Your head was held high, your gaze fixed straight ahead, but your insides felt like a raw, exposed wound. You wouldn’t let them see. You wouldn’t let anyone see.

As you walked down the corridor, you felt a hand gently close around your wrist. You didn't flinch. You didn't need to. You knew the touch instantly. It was Suhyeok.

He didn't pull you, just held on, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin on the inside of your wrist. You stopped walking, and he moved in front of you, his face full of a quiet concern that you didn’t know how to handle.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice low enough that it was just for you. "Are you okay? You look… kind of sad."

You quickly shook your head. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Don't lie to me," he said, his voice gentle but firm. He took your hand in his and started walking, leading you away from the crowded hallway and towards a secluded bench outside, tucked away behind a row of trees.

You sat down next to him, the warmth of his presence a stark contrast to the coldness you felt inside. He didn't say anything for a moment, just held your hand, rubbing small circles on the back of it. The silence wasn't awkward; it was comforting.

"You know," he finally said, his voice a quiet murmur. "I heard them."

Your heart stopped. You immediately pulled your hand away, your body tensing. He had heard what they were saying about you. He knew. The shame and fear came rushing back, a tidal wave threatening to drown you. You stood up to leave, to escape before he could confirm your worst fears.

But he reached for you again, this time placing both of his hands gently on your cheeks, making you look at him. His eyes were so kind, so full of warmth, you felt your defenses crumbling.

"I heard them," he repeated, his gaze unwavering. "And they're wrong. Everything they said… it's all a lie."

A single tear escaped your eye, and he wiped it away with his thumb. "You're not creepy," he whispered. "You're not a bitch. You're just… you. And I think you're the most amazing, kindest person I've ever met."

Your bottom lip trembled, and you finally let yourself cry, the tears a hot cascade down your face. You didn't try to hide them. Not from him. He pulled you into a tight hug, your head resting against his chest, and you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart. It was the sound of safety. The sound of home.

"I don't care what they say," he murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest. "I care about you. And when you're with me, you smile. You laugh. You're not cold, you're just… protecting yourself. And that’s okay."

You tightened your arms around his waist, holding on to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that was spinning out of control. "Don't leave me," you whispered, the words choked with emotion.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb wiping another tear from your cheek. "Never," he said, his voice a promise. "I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

And for the first time, in a long, long time, you believed him.

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꩜ One shots requests opened

[clematiss45]

Can you write about yeon sieun x reader about the reader missing school for a couple of days which concerns sieun who decides to eventually visit the reader to find out she was staying home to hide her injuries from being bullied and didn't want sieun to worry but now Sieun goes to hunt down those who bullied the reader?

Title: "You Should’ve Told Me"

Pairing: Yeon Si-eun x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Protective, Angst to Comfort, Light Action

You’d only planned to miss one day.

Just one day to let the bruises fade, the swelling go down, the trembling in your hands to stop. But one day became two. Then three. And by the fourth, the messages started.

> “You sick?”

“You okay?”

“You’re not answering.”

They were all from him. From Si-eun.

Yeon Si-eun, who you weren’t sure why you had gotten close to in the first place. The quiet genius. The calculating fighter. The boy who never lost. And yet, somehow, he had become someone you laughed with after class, shared lunch with on the rooftop, someone who always looked like he was silently analyzing the world but actually listened—really listened—when it came to you.

Which is why you couldn’t let him see you like this.

Your ribs ached every time you moved. Your left eye was still slightly purple, even under the layers of concealer you’d tried. You hadn’t even meant to get involved. Just one wrong bump in the hallway, and a group of upperclassmen had made an example out of you.

You weren’t weak. Not really. But they were stronger.

And now you were hiding.

You hadn’t replied to Si-eun in over 24 hours. You figured he’d let it go eventually.

You figured wrong.

When the doorbell rang, you ignored it.

Then it rang again.

And again.

You limped toward the door with dread building in your chest.

“Who is it?” you asked, voice hoarse.

There was a beat of silence.

Then a familiar voice.

“…It’s me.”

You froze.

Yeon Si-eun didn’t sound angry. Or worried. Just… calm. Too calm.

You cracked the door open, just enough to peer out. His sharp eyes met yours immediately. It was always a little unnerving, how he looked at you—like you were a puzzle he already knew the answer to, but he was waiting for you to say it out loud.

He didn’t speak. His eyes dropped, trailing along the shadows under your eyes, the stiffness in your shoulders, the way your arm clutched your side.

He knew.

“Don’t,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t ask.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he said.

You blinked, surprised.

“I already know.”

The door opened wider before you could stop it. Si-eun stepped inside gently, as if he didn’t want to startle you. He took in the ice pack on the counter, the school bag tossed aside, the untouched textbooks.

“You didn’t want me to see,” he said. “You thought I’d worry.”

You looked down. “…Wouldn’t you?”

He stepped closer, just enough for you to feel the heat of his presence.

“I do worry,” he said simply.

You couldn’t look at him. You hated this. The pity. The shame. The embarrassment of being weak in front of him.

“I handled it,” you murmured. “I didn’t want to drag you into something unnecessary.”

That’s when his voice changed.

“Unnecessary?” he echoed, low and quiet. “You think you getting hurt is unnecessary to me?”

You swallowed hard. “…Si-eun—”

“Tell me who did it.”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. You could see the slight twitch in his jaw, the restraint in his fists.

“I’m not asking,” he said.

You stared at him. He wasn’t raising his voice. He wasn’t threatening you. But something about his tone made it clear—it wasn’t a request anymore.

“They’re stronger than me,” you said, almost bitterly. “It wouldn’t have mattered even if I tried to fight back.”

Si-eun was quiet for a moment.

Then he stepped closer.

He reached up and gently brushed your hair back, revealing the faint yellowing bruise near your temple.

His voice dropped, almost a whisper. “I’m stronger than them.”

Your breath caught.

“I don’t like hurting people,” he said. “I don’t fight for pride, or for ego. But for you?”

He looked you dead in the eye.

“I’ll make an exception.”

Later that evening, you sat on the edge of your bed, phone buzzing beside you.

> [6:41 PM] Si-eun: “Go to sleep early. You won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

[6:42 PM] Si-eun: “I took care of it.”

You didn’t ask what he did. You didn’t need to.

You knew what Yeon Si-eun was capable of. But you also knew he never fought unless it was necessary.

And you finally understood:

To him, you were necessary.

[clematiss45]

Helllooo, Can I please request a Geum Seongje x Baekjin's sister! Reader where Reader is the complete opposite of Baekjin, so she's cheerful, an ENFJ, people pleaser. She also grew up in a different environment from Baekjin and it ended up her being innocent or naive, not knowing about the danger of the world or the union and bc of that Baekjin is too overprotective of her and views everyone as a danger to reader's innocence. While on the other hand, Seongje is amused by how naive and positive reader is and wants to ruin her innocence.

Thank youuu(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I love seeing this "Thank you" signature because I just know it's one people here and I love seeing your request ´⁠◔⁠‿⁠ゝ⁠◔⁠`⁠)

A Flower in the Weed

✮ Summary : Request above ↑

✮ Contains : Angst, no fluff

✮ Pairing : Geum Seong-je x sunshine!reader (feat : Baekjin as a big protective brother)

✮ Word Count : 2336 words

The air in the abandoned warehouse was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and the lingering metallic tang of recent violence. Outside, the city lights blurred into a distant, hazy glow, a stark contrast to the grimy reality of Baekjin's world. Inside, the Union's leaders were planning their next move. Baekjin, a figure of silent, coiled tension, stood apart, his gaze fixed on the broken window, but his mind a thousand miles away. He had built this life, this fortress of power and fear, to protect one person.

"Baekjin-ah."

Geum Seongje's voice was a low purr, a predatory sound that always set Baekjin's teeth on edge. "Why so quiet? Thinking about your little sister?"

Baekjin's knuckles whitened as he clenched his fist. He didn't respond, but the unspoken threat was clear.

Seongje smirked, leaning back against a graffiti-covered wall. "Don't look at me like that. I'm just curious. I heard she came to visit again. The little ray of sunshine who smiles at everyone, even us."

Baekjin's head snapped around, his eyes like chips of ice. "Don't talk about her."

"Why not?" Seongje's smile widened, revealing a flash of teeth. "She's fascinating. A bright little butterfly fluttering around a nest of spiders. She doesn't have a clue, does she? About what we do, what we are."

"She grew up with our aunt," Baekjin said, his voice a low growl. "She's a good kid."

"A good kid," Seongje repeated, the words dripping with mockery. "Always trying to make everyone happy. Tries to find the good in everyone. I bet she'd even try to befriend me."

Baekjin took a menacing step forward, but Seongje held up a placating hand. "Calm down, I'm just playing. But it's true, isn't it? She's completely ignorant of this world. Your little sister is a blank canvas, and it makes me wonder... what would happen if someone painted it?"

The conversation ended there, but Seongje's words echoed in Baekjin's mind. He had worked so hard to keep you, his sister, a world away from the filth and violence that defined his life. He had sent you to live with their kind-hearted aunt in the countryside, where you could thrive without ever seeing the darkness. You were his one weakness, his reason for everything. Your innocence was a precious thing he had sworn to protect at all costs.

The next day, the cold, gray facade of the Union's headquarters was brightened by a flash of color and sound. You, a whirlwind of positive energy, had arrived with a bag of homemade sandwiches and a smile that could melt glaciers. Your bright pink jacket and cheerful demeanor stood out like a beacon in the somber, threatening atmosphere.

"Oppa!" you chirped, hugging Baekjin tightly. "I brought lunch! Auntie said you've been working too hard and need to eat properly."

Baekjin's rigid shoulders relaxed for a brief moment as he returned the hug, his hand awkwardly patting your back. "You didn't have to come all this way."

"Nonsense!" you said, pulling away and looking around the grim room. Your eyes landed on Seongje, who was observing you with a look of predatory curiosity. You immediately smiled. "Hello! I'm Baekjin's little sister. I don't think we've officially met, but you seem like a good friend of my brother's!"

Seongje's mask of nonchalance slipped for a second, a flicker of genuine amusement crossing his face. He extended a hand. "Geum Seongje. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

You shook his hand enthusiastically. "The pleasure is all mine! It's so great that Oppa has such loyal friends. You all seem so close."

Baekjin’s jaw tightened. He knew what Seongje was thinking. He knew what he was capable of.

Over the next few hours, you moved through the Union's base, a small, vibrant sun in a world of shadows. You offered sandwiches to everyone, calling them "friends of my brother's" and asking them about their day. You didn't see the bruises on their knuckles, the coldness in their eyes, or the subtle way they flinched at your genuine kindness. To you, they were just people.

Seongje watched, a silent observer of this fascinating experiment. He saw you engage in a conversation with one of the newer members, a boy with a perpetually scared look in his eyes. You were asking him about his dreams, what he wanted to do after school, completely oblivious to the fact that his "job" with the Union was the only future he could see.

"You're a very positive person," Seongje commented, leaning against a pillar as you finished your rounds.

"Oh, thank you!" you beamed. "It's just... I like to make people happy. I think everyone has a good side, you just have to look for it."

"And what if there isn't one?" Seongje asked, his tone deceptively soft.

You tilted your head, your brow furrowed in thought. "I don't think that's possible. Maybe they're just sad, or scared, and they need someone to be nice to them. You know, like a flower that needs water to bloom. Everyone needs a little bit of kindness to show their true colors."

Seongje's smirk was back, but this time it was different. It held a chilling kind of fascination. "A flower. I like that. But some flowers are better off left in the shade."

"No!" you said with a conviction that startled even Baekjin, who had been listening from a distance. "Every flower deserves to bloom. We just have to find the right environment for it."

Seongje's eyes met Baekjin's over your shoulder. In that single, loaded glance, a silent challenge was issued and accepted.

The next time you visited, the atmosphere was even more charged. The rivalry with Eunjang High was heating up, and the Union members were on edge. You, however, were still a bastion of optimism. This time, you brought a small sketchbook and an array of colored pencils.

"Oppa, you're always so serious!" you said, pulling Baekjin's hand and trying to make him sit down. "Let me draw you a picture to cheer you up."

Baekjin resisted, but your unwavering persistence eventually won him over. He sat, his posture still stiff, as you started to sketch his profile.

Seongje came over, a cup of instant noodles in his hand. "Drawing, are we? What's the masterpiece?"

"I'm drawing a picture of my brother, but I'm trying to make him smile," you said with a giggle.

"Good luck with that," Seongje drawled. He then turned to you, his expression shifting to a carefully crafted mask of vulnerability. "You know, your brother is very kind. He always looks out for us. It's tough being a leader."

You nodded, your pencil moving quickly across the page. "I know! He's the best. I worry about him, though. He carries so much on his shoulders."

"He does," Seongje agreed, his voice a low, confidential murmur. "And sometimes, he has to make difficult choices. Things that aren't... pretty." He paused, his eyes watching your face for a reaction. "For the sake of the people he protects. Like you."

You stopped drawing, your pencil hovering over the paper. "What do you mean?"

"This life," he said, gesturing around the warehouse. "It's not a game. It's a fight for survival. There are people who want to tear down everything your brother has built. He has to get his hands dirty to keep them away. To keep you safe."

A flicker of confusion crossed your face. "But... isn't fighting wrong? My auntie always said that violence never solves anything."

"Your auntie's world is different from ours," Seongje said, his voice laced with a gentle pity that was far more sinister than any threat. "In our world, the strong survive. And sometimes, to be strong, you have to be cruel."

Baekjin, who had been watching the exchange, finally snapped. "Seongje, stop it."

"Stop what?" Seongje asked innocently. "I'm just being honest. She's your sister. She deserves to know."

You looked from Seongje to Baekjin, your eyes wide with a dawning horror. The innocence that Baekjin had fought so hard to preserve was starting to crack. You saw the truth in Baekjin's grim expression, in the tension in his shoulders, and in the way the other Union members avoided your gaze.

"Is it true, Oppa?" you whispered, your voice trembling. "Do you... hurt people?"

Baekjin couldn't lie. Not to you. "Sometimes, to protect what's mine, I have to."

Your face crumpled. The bright, cheerful mask you wore every day shattered. You stood up, the sketchbook and pencils falling to the concrete floor, a splash of color against the gray. "But... that's not you. You're not a bad person."

"I never said he was," Seongje said, his voice a sly whisper in the background. "He's just… a realist. He understands what's necessary."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "I don't understand," you said, your voice cracking. "I don't understand."

You ran, leaving a stunned silence in your wake. The Union members looked uncomfortable. Baekjin's face was a mask of fury, his eyes fixed on Seongje.

"You," he seethed, his voice low and dangerous. "You did this on purpose."

Seongje just shrugged, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "I told you. She's fascinating. A blank canvas. And now, there's a little smudge on it. A little bit of reality."

For the next few days, Baekjin was on a warpath, his anger fueling a brutal efficiency that terrified even his own men. He fought with a reckless ferocity that was more dangerous than usual, his mind a single-track obsession: avenge the hurt he saw in your eyes. He saw the world, the cruel, ugly world he had tried to keep you from, through your innocent eyes, and it made him hate it even more.

Seongje, meanwhile, was like a cat toying with a mouse. He would find you, usually in a quiet corner of a park or at a small café, and sit with you, offering a different kind of poison.

"He just wants to protect you, you know," he'd say, his voice a gentle, persuasive hum. "But his way of protecting you is to keep you in the dark. To make you a pet, a pretty little bird in a cage."

"He's my brother," you'd respond, your voice weak, your usual vibrant energy gone.

"And he's doing what he thinks is right," Seongje would agree. "But what about what you want? Don't you want to see the world for what it is? The good and the bad? The light and the darkness?"

You would look at him, your eyes haunted. "Why are you telling me this?"

Seongje would smile, a practiced, charming smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Because it's a kindness, isn't it? To show someone the truth. The world is a dangerous place, and your brother's way is to pretend it doesn't exist. My way is to teach you how to survive it. To stop being a flower and start being a weed."

"A weed?" you'd ask, your voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah. Something that can grow anywhere. Something that doesn't need a special garden to thrive. Something that can't be easily plucked and broken."

He was planting a seed of a different kind in your mind, a seed of doubt and cynicism. He wasn't overtly cruel. He didn't tell you the gruesome details of the Union's work. Instead, he painted a picture of a world where survival was paramount and kindness was a luxury. He wasn't trying to make you hate your brother; he was trying to make you understand him, to see the world through his cynical, pragmatic lens. He wanted to watch as your innocence, a thing he found both repulsive and fascinating, withered away, not from a single blow, but from a slow, creeping understanding of reality.

The final confrontation came during a particularly brutal skirmish with the Eunjang students. Baekjin was injured, a deep gash on his arm, and he was cornered. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and in that moment, you appeared.

You had followed him, worried, after he had ignored your calls for days. You saw the fight, the blood, the raw brutality, and your world shattered completely. You saw the real Baekjin, not the kind, overprotective brother, but the ruthless, hardened leader.

But you also saw something else. You saw him fight not with rage, but with a cold, desperate efficiency. You saw him defend his men, and you saw the fear in his enemies' eyes.

You didn't run. You didn't cry. Instead, you found a first aid kit and, with shaking hands, started to tend to his wound. Baekjin looked at you, his eyes filled with a desperate apology.

"I told you to stay away," he said, his voice raw.

"You got hurt," you said, your voice surprisingly steady. "I couldn't just... leave."

Seongje watched from a distance, a look of profound disappointment on his face. He had tried to break you, to corrupt you, to turn your innocence into jaded understanding. But instead, you had simply adapted. You had seen the darkness, and instead of being consumed by it, you had chosen to bring a small flicker of light. You were still a flower, but you were no longer a delicate one. You were one that grew in the cracks of the concrete, a stubborn, resilient thing.

"You're an interesting one," Seongje said to himself, a slow, grudging respect entering his gaze. "A weed, after all."

He walked away, leaving you to finish patching up your brother's wounds. You were no longer naive. You knew the truth now. But the core of who you were, the cheerful, people-pleasing, hadn't been broken. It had simply been tested and, in a way, strengthened. You understood your brother's world now, and you didn't approve of it, but you also understood why he did it. And that, in its own way, was a victory for both of them, and a subtle defeat for Seongje's cruel game.

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[clematiss45]

Hiii could I request Baku smut where reader is on the unions team and There’s a lot of tension between her and Baku

Smoke and Fire

Pairings: Park Humin (Baku) x Fem!Reader

Summary: The intense build-up between you and Baku finally breaks.

Warnings: Explicit smut, rough sexual tension, enemies to lovers vibes, dirty talk, dominance/submission themes, language, mdni

You could always feel him watching you.

Baku wasn’t subtle about it. Never had been. Not since you first walked into Baekjin’s inner circle and dared to speak without being told to. Not since you showed up to a fight with blood on your knuckles and that satisfied little smirk still sitting on your lips.

He hated you.

Which meant you had him exactly where you wanted him.

“You’re staring again,” you said one night, flicking your cigarette ash onto the floor like you owned the damn warehouse.

He didn’t respond. Typical.

You let your eyes drift to where he leaned against the wall arms crossed, eyes sharp, lips in that permanent scowl. His jaw twitched when your gaze lingered.

You grinned. “I should start charging you for the attention.”

“I should tape your mouth shut,” he muttered under his breath.

You laughed, slow and low, and stepped closer just to test him. “And miss out on all the filthy things you want to hear from it? Shame.”

That jaw of his tightened again. Bingo.

Later that night, Baekjin told the two of you to clean up after a fight just you and Baku, surrounded by blood, broken glass, and furniture in ruins. You were both banged up but still standing. And still stubborn.

You bent to pick up a broken bottle, your shirt riding up just enough to show skin. You could feel his eyes on you like a second heat.

When you stood and turned, you caught him midglance. He didn’t look away fast enough.

“Caught you again,” you teased, stepping right into his space. “You want something, Baku?”

He didn’t move. Just glared. “You talk too much.”

“You think too much,” you countered, brushing a hand up his chest. “Your problem is you’re scared to do what you really want.”

He grabbed the wall beside your head with one hand, trapping you in. Your heart thudded, but you didn’t let it show.

“You don’t know what you’re playing with,” he growled.

You looked him dead in the eyes, a wicked grin tugging at your lips. “I do. That’s why I’m still playing.”

And that’s when he snapped.

His mouth was on yours like a crash hot, hungry, furious. You kissed him back just as hard, your teeth clashing, fingers tangled in his jacket. He tasted like frustration and control barely held, and you wanted more.

His hands were under your shirt in seconds, rough palms sliding up your ribs, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you gasp into his mouth. He yanked your shirt up halfway and bit down on your lip until you whimpered.

“You like being a brat, don’t you?” he muttered, lips dragging down your throat. “Just begging to be put in your place.”

“I like watching you try,” you said, nails scraping down his neck.

He lifted you like it was nothing, gripping your thighs tight and pinning you against the nearest desk. Your back hit cold wood, and papers flew as he shoved them aside.

You stared up at him your breath quick, heart racing, but still in control. “Come on, then. Show me how much you hate me.”

He didn’t hesitate. Your jeans were gone in seconds. So were his. You didn’t even take your underwear off, he just shoved yours aside and lined himself up, fingers digging into your thighs.

Then he was inside you in one deep, punishing thrust.

You cried out, head falling back against the desk, the stretch sending heat up your spine. He was thick, deep, and rough from the start.

“You’ve been soaked since the second you walked in,” he said, voice ragged. “Weren’t you the one acting like you didn’t want this?”

You moaned, hips arching up to meet his thrusts. “Didn’t say I didn’t. I just wanted to see how long you could hold back.”

His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast, teasing and relentless. Your head was spinning his rhythm brutal, his hand skilled, his mouth dragging along your throat with little bites that promised bruises.

He was everywhere. Inside you, over you, owning you.

“I should keep you like this,” he growled, thrusting harder. “Mouth shut. Legs open.”

“You’d miss my mouth,” you whispered, gripping his shirt as he pounded into you. “You’re obsessed with it.”

“Damn right I am.”

He drove into you faster, the desk shaking beneath your back. You were close so close your whole body trembling as heat coiled tight in your core.

When it hit, it hit hard.

You came with a strangled moan, legs locked around him, nails digging into his back. Your whole body clenched, and he cursed under his breath, fucking you through it as you pulsed around him.

Then he followed, hips jerking, body shuddering as he came deep inside you with a low, guttural growl that sent chills down your spine.

For a few seconds, there was only breathing. Skin against skin. The echo of heat still in the air.

Then you opened your mouth.

“Told you you’d snap first.”

He looked down at you, still catching his breath, and rolled his eyes. “Next time I bring duct tape.”

You smirked, lazy and satisfied, fingers still playing with the hem of his shirt. “You can try. But then you wouldn’t get to hear me moan your name.”

He growled and kissed you again rough, bruising, addictive.

And deep down, you already knew..

There would be a next time.

[clematiss45]

Unfixable

✮ Summary : You were down, in a way you knew you could never climb back. Even when Humin, with his sunshine demeanor came into your life, you couldn't.

✮ Contains : Angst, no fluff, suic!dal thoughts, suic!de

✮ Pairing : Park Humin x suic!dal!reader

✮ Word Count : 1566 words

You existed in a world painted in shades of gray. The sky was gray, the buildings were gray, and the noise of the city was a dull, buzzing static that matched the one inside your head. You were a ghost in your own life, moving through the motions—eating, sleeping, going to class—but feeling none of it. The problems were a tangled knot of self-loathing, a belief that your existence was a burden on anyone who dared to get close. The whispers in your mind were a constant, poisonous stream, telling you that everyone would be better off without your quiet sadness dragging them down.

Then came Park Humin.

You met him on a day that felt particularly heavy. You were sitting alone in the university library's courtyard, a book open in your lap but your eyes staring blankly at the ground. The quiet was a small comfort, a buffer against the world. This peace, however, was shattered by a whirlwind of bright orange hoodie and an impossibly wide, blinding smile.

"Hey! I'm Park Humin," he announced, plopping down on the bench beside you with an energy that felt foreign and overwhelming. "I've seen you around. You always look so focused, but today... you look like you're trying to figure out the meaning of life from a dead leaf."

You just blinked, unable to form a response. His smile didn't waver. He was a force of nature, a hurricane of genuine warmth.

"You know," he continued, leaning forward with a conspiratorial air. "My friends Gotak and Sieun say I'm too loud. Sieun even said he’d glue my mouth shut if I don't stop talking about my stupid video games. Can you believe that? The nerve."

He rattled on, a constant, cheerful monologue that didn't demand a response, but simply offered companionship. And for the first time in a long time, the buzzing in your head quieted, just a little.

From that day, Humin made it his mission to be your friend. He'd show up with two iced coffees, one with your favorite flavor even though you had never told him what it was. He'd text you endless memes and photos of his friends in ridiculous situations, trying to coax a smile out of you. He was relentless, and his relentless kindness started to feel like a fragile, precious thing in your desolate world.

Their relationship grew, a delicate flower in a barren landscape. Humin introduced you to his circle, a group of friends who were just as vibrant and different as him. Juntae was the quiet, steady anchor of the group. He'd often just sit with you, sharing a comfortable silence, his presence a calming force. Gotak was the chaotic energy, a playful jokester who would try to distract you with his loud, boisterous laughter. Sieun, the older, more observant one, offered a quiet, knowing look that told you he saw more than you showed.

But Humin was your sun. He was the one you finally, tentatively, opened up to one evening, sitting by the Han River.

"Humin," you started, your voice barely a whisper. "Do you ever feel... like a weight? Like everyone would be lighter without you?"

His smile vanished, replaced by a look of profound, gentle seriousness. He took your hand, his warmth a stark contrast to your cold skin. "Y/N," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You're not a weight. You're... you're my favorite person. You're the one I look for in a room. You're not a burden."

The words came tumbling out then, a torrent of all the dark, poisonous thoughts you had kept hidden for so long. You spoke of the exhaustion, the pain, the constant battle against a part of yourself that wanted to give up. You confessed the terrifying feeling of standing on the edge, looking down, and feeling a strange, terrifying peace.

Humin listened, tears welling in his eyes. He didn't offer empty platitudes. He just squeezed your hand tighter. His thoughts were a chaotic mess of panic and fierce protectiveness. She’s been carrying this all alone? All this time? How could I have not known? I have to protect her. I have to be enough.

"Y/N," he said, pulling you into a tight, desperate hug. "I'm so sorry you've been fighting this alone. But you don't have to anymore. I'm here. I'll hold on to you as tight as I can, okay? Just promise me you’ll hold on too."

For a while, you did. Humin was your anchor. He was constantly checking in, sending you "good morning" texts, and showing up at your door with snacks. His friends, too, tried in their own ways. Juntae would give you small, meaningful gifts. Gotak would drag you out to a loud karaoke session with a knowing wink, and Sieun would just quietly make sure you had enough to eat.

But the darkness, a cunning and patient predator, was always lurking. It returned in moments of quiet, in the dead of night, in the sudden absence of Humin's bright voice. It was a suffocating weight that no amount of sunshine could fully chase away.

The downward spiral was triggered by a single moment of quiet despair. You had been trying to work on a project, but the words wouldn't come, your mind a blank, terrified canvas. The whispers returned, louder than ever. You're a failure. You're useless. You're wasting everyone's time.

You stopped answering Humin's calls and texts. You became a ghost again, withdrawing into the gray silence. The buzzing in your head turned into a deafening roar. Humin, sensing something was terribly wrong, showed up at your apartment door, his face a mixture of terror and desperation.

"Y/N! Open up, please!" he shouted, his voice thick with panic. "I'm not leaving! I'll stay here all night if I have to!"

You finally opened the door, your eyes hollow, your face a pale mask of exhaustion. "Go away, Humin," you whispered, the words like shattered glass.

He pushed his way inside, his eyes searching yours frantically. "No! I'm not going anywhere. What's wrong? Tell me! I can't lose you, Y/N. I can't."

You looked at him, at his kind, worried face, and a fresh wave of self-loathing washed over you. You were a broken thing, and he was trying to fix you, but you were beyond repair. "You can't," you said, your voice cracking. "You can't fix this, Humin. I'm a mess. I'm too much. You're just... wasting your time. You'd be so much better off without me."

"Stop it! Stop talking like that!" he pleaded, his hands gently holding your shoulders. His thoughts were a frantic scramble. She's wrong. She's so, so wrong. But what do I do? How do I make her see that? I can't live in a world without her. I can't.

"But I want to be alone!" you screamed, yanking yourself away from his touch. The raw, guttural cry felt like a final surrender. "I can't do this anymore! I can't keep fighting! It hurts too much! Every day hurts!"

The look on his face was one you would never forget. It was a mix of heartbreak and sheer terror, the realization that his bright light wasn't enough, that your darkness was too big for him to fight. He stood there, helpless, as you turned away and finally, firmly, shut the door, cutting off the last sliver of light from your world.

That night, the whispers became a deafening command. They told you that you were right, that this was the only way to make the pain stop. You held a faded photograph of Humin, his bright smile a cruel reminder of the light you were extinguishing. You found a place high above the city, a place where the wind could carry you away from the suffocating static. And you fell.

The funeral was a somber affair, a sea of black against a gray, weeping sky. Humin stood at the front, his posture rigid, his face an empty canvas of grief. The vibrant orange hoodie was gone, replaced by a suit that seemed to weigh him down, to bury him in the heavy reality of his new world. His eyes, once so full of life, were now vacant and red-rimmed. He looked at the framed photograph of you, your smile a fragile, heartbreaking lie.

Gotak, usually so boisterous and full of life, stood beside him, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Juntae had his hand on Humin's shoulder, his own eyes filled with tears, his quiet strength a painful contrast to Humin's visible devastation. Sieun, his expression heavy with a grief that seemed too old for him, stood with them, a silent witness to their shared pain.

Humin's mind was a maelstrom of regret and what-ifs. I should have called again. I should have broken down the door. I should have told her I loved her. The words of his promise echoed in his mind, a promise he had failed to keep. He had told you he would hold on, but he hadn't known that sometimes, even the strongest grip isn't enough to stop someone from letting go. The light he had tried so hard to give you was now completely, utterly gone. The world was silent again, but this time, it was an empty silence, a vast and terrifying space where your laughter used to be.

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[clematiss45]

Hellooo, can i request a Yeon Sieun x Reader angst no comfort where reader has a terminal illness(maybe brain tumor) and at first Sieun knew the sympthoms like reader keeps forgetting things, change of personality but he didn't really think much about ig until the sympthoms are wayy too obivous like reader suddenly keep fainting, nosebleed, and she would suddenly have a massive headache at random times, oh and maybe he confronted reader but she refused to tell him but he figured out himself and decided to confront her and reader finally explained and she has like 3 months to live only. Could you also write the aftermath when reader died??

Thank youu(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Soooo angstyy I absolutely love it !! I hope you'll also love it <3 I literally cried while writing this lmao

A Cruel Rythme

✮ Summary : Request above ↑

✮ Contains : Angst, no fluff, no comfort, grief, character death

✮ Pairing : Yeon Si-eun x ill!reader

✮ Word Count : 2231 words

Yeon Sieun was used to the routine of your life together. It was a comfortable, predictable rhythm built on shared silences and unspoken understandings. But lately, the rhythm had started to feel… off. Like a skipping record, repeating familiar phrases in strange new ways.

It started with small things. A misplaced wallet, keys in the fridge, a forgotten appointment. At first, he brushed it off. Everyone had moments of forgetfulness. But then your personality began to shift. The quiet, thoughtful person he knew would sometimes snap at him for no reason, a flash of anger in your eyes that vanished as quickly as it appeared. Other times, you'd be apathetic, staring blankly into space, your usual spark completely extinguished.

"Are you okay?" he'd asked one evening, watching you struggle to remember the name of a movie you both had watched just last week.

You just gave him a tired smile. "Just stressed, I guess. Work's been crazy."

He wanted to believe you. He tried to. But the little cracks in your composure were getting bigger, more obvious. You began to trip over your own feet, your movements clumsy and uncoordinated. The headaches started next. He’d find you curled up on the sofa, a hand pressed to your temple, your face pale and drawn. When he’d ask what was wrong, you’d simply shake your head, insisting it was just a migraine.

The first time you fainted, he was terrified. One moment, you were standing in the kitchen, humming a tune while you made dinner. The next, the clatter of a pot hitting the floor was followed by the sickening thud of your body. He was by your side in an instant, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. He shook you gently, his voice a frantic whisper.

"Y/N? Y/N, wake up!"

Your eyes fluttered open, a dazed, confused look on your face. "Sieun?" you mumbled, your hand reaching for his. "What... what happened?"

He didn't let go of you, not even after he'd helped you to the sofa and gotten you a glass of water. "You fainted," he said, his voice tight with suppressed fear. "We need to go to the hospital."

But you just shook your head, the stubborn set of your jaw familiar, but the fear in your eyes was not. "No. I'm fine, really. I just… stood up too fast."

He wanted to argue, to force you to go. But he knew you well enough to know when you'd made up your mind. Instead, he just sat beside you, holding your hand, trying to convince himself that you were right, that this was just a fluke, a momentary lapse.

Then came the nosebleeds. They were frequent, and they were heavy. He’d walk into the bathroom to find you hunched over the sink, your face and hands stained with crimson. You would refuse to look at him, your shoulders tense, a silent message of "don't ask." And he, in his cowardice, would obey. He'd pretend not to see, he’d pretend that the blood-soaked tissues in the bin were just a figment of his imagination. He was pretending, because the alternative—the truth—was a terrifying abyss he wasn’t ready to fall into.

One night, the massive headache returned. It was worse than any before. You were in the middle of a sentence, telling him about your day, when your hand flew to your head, your face contorting in a silent scream of pain. You collapsed to the floor, your body seizing, limbs jerking uncontrollably. Sieun was paralyzed for a moment, the sight of your suffering freezing the blood in his veins. Then he was on his knees, holding you, his hands shaking as he tried to keep you from hurting yourself.

"Y/N! Y/N, what's happening?!" he yelled, his voice cracking with panic.

The seizure lasted for what felt like an eternity. When it finally subsided, you were limp in his arms, your breathing shallow and ragged. The fear he had been trying to suppress, the fear that had been gnawing at the edges of his consciousness, finally took over. It was a cold, hard certainty. Something was terribly wrong.

He drove you to the hospital himself, a blur of motion and panicked thoughts. He held your hand the whole way, squeezing it every so often just to make sure you were still there. The nurses took you away, and he was left in the sterile waiting room, the silence deafening, a stark contrast to the chaos of his mind.

Hours passed. He didn't move from his seat, didn't answer his phone. He just stared at the blank wall, replaying every moment of the past few months. The forgotten memories, the personality shifts, the fainting spells, the nosebleeds, the headaches… it all made sense now. The pieces of the puzzle he’d been so desperately trying to ignore were fitting together, forming a horrifying picture.

When the doctor finally called his name, Sieun's heart leaped into his throat. He walked down the long, brightly lit hallway, his feet heavy with dread. He found you sitting on a hospital bed, your head bowed, a tired, defeated look on your face.

"Sieun," you whispered, not looking up.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching for yours, but you pulled it away. He looked at the doctor, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes that were filled with pity.

"She has a brain tumor," the doctor said, her voice soft but direct. "It's a high-grade glioma. The symptoms… they're all consistent with a growing mass in the brain."

Sieun’s world went silent. He was looking at the doctor, but her words were just a low hum in his ears. He turned to you, his eyes searching yours for some kind of denial, some kind of hope. But you just sat there, your face pale and devoid of emotion.

"How long?" he asked, the words a rough rasp in his throat.

The doctor's gaze softened even more. "Given the stage and location of the tumor… we estimate three to six months. We can try to manage the symptoms, but at this point, treatment is mostly palliative."

Three to six months. The words echoed in his mind, a death sentence written in the cold, clinical language of medicine. He looked at you, really looked at you, and saw not the person he knew, but a stranger, a shell of the person you once were. The tears that had been threatening to spill finally fell, hot and silent, tracing a path down his cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice a broken whisper.

You finally looked up at him, your eyes full of a pain he’d never seen before. "I couldn't," you said, your voice shaking. "I just… I couldn't."

He left the hospital that night, not with you, but with an empty feeling that clawed at his insides. He drove aimlessly, the city lights a blur of color and pain. He pulled over at a deserted park, his head resting against the steering wheel, and he let out a guttural sob that he had been holding in since the moment he saw you collapse. He cried for the person you were, for the future they had been robbed of, for the time they had left.

You came home the next day. You were quiet, withdrawn, a ghost in your own home. Sieun watched you, every movement, every breath, as if you would disappear if he looked away. The next few weeks were a blur of appointments, of pills, of trying to pretend that everything was okay when it was so, so far from it. He's trying, he's trying so hard, but every time he looks at you, he sees the tumor. He sees the future.

One night, he found you in the living room, a stack of photo albums on the floor beside you. You were staring at an old picture of the two of you, your face pale in the dim light. He sat down beside you, not saying a word, just watching. He saw you smile, a ghost of a smile, a distant memory of happiness.

"Remember that day?" you asked, your voice a whisper. "We went to the beach. You were so annoyed because you got sand in your shoes."

He nodded, a lump forming in his throat. He remembered. He remembered the feel of the sun on his skin, the sound of the waves, the laughter in your eyes. He remembered every detail, and the memory was a sharp, painful knife twist in his heart.

"Why did you leave me?" he asked, the question just tumbling out.

You looked at him, your eyes wide with confusion. "What?"

"Why did you just… give up?" he said, his voice rising, the carefully constructed dam of his emotions beginning to break. "Why didn't you fight? Why didn't you tell me?"

You didn't answer, you just looked at him, and the pain in your eyes was almost unbearable.

"I could have helped you," he said, his voice cracking. "We could have found a doctor. We could have tried. We could have done something!"

"There was nothing to do, Sieun!" you finally yelled, the dam of your own emotions breaking. "It was already too late! I had already been diagnosed! The doctors said it was terminal! I was just trying to spare you the pain! I was trying to spare you from watching me die!"

The words hung in the air, a final, brutal truth. He looked at you, at the tears streaming down your face, at the pain etched in every line of your expression, and he finally understood. You hadn't given up. You had already lost.

The months that followed were a cruel, agonizing march toward an inevitable end. The symptoms worsened. The faints became more frequent. The headaches more debilitating. You began to lose your vision, your ability to walk. Sieun became your caretaker, a silent, stoic presence in your life. He would hold you when you were in pain, feed you when you were too weak to hold a spoon, read to you when you could no longer see the words. He did it all without complaint, without a single word of protest. He had lost the right to complain.

One evening, you were lying in bed, your breathing shallow and ragged. You reached for his hand, your grip weak, but there was a quiet urgency in your eyes.

"Sieun," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Thank you. For everything."

He squeezed your hand, a wordless promise.

"I love you," you said, a tear rolling down your cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he whispered back, his own tears blurring his vision. "Just… just stay with me. Please. Just a little longer."

But you didn't. Your hand went limp in his, your breathing stopped, and the quiet rhythm of your life, the rhythm he had fought so hard to preserve, was finally, irrevocably broken.

The day of the funeral was a blur. He stood there in his black suit, a cold, empty feeling in his chest. He didn't cry. He couldn't. The tears were gone, replaced by a hollow void that echoed with the memories of a life that was cut short. He watched as they lowered the coffin into the ground, and he felt a piece of himself being buried along with it.

He went back to the empty apartment. The silence was deafening. The place was a shrine to you, a constant reminder of what he had lost. Your scent still lingered on the pillows, your clothes still hung in the closet, your favorite mug was still in the cupboard. He didn't have the heart to move anything. He didn't want to erase you.

One night, he found the photo album you had been looking at. He sat on the floor, flipping through the pages, his fingers tracing the images of your smiling face. He came to the picture of the two of you at the beach, and he finally let out a choked sob. He cried not for the person you were, but for the person he had been. He cried for the man who had been too afraid to see the truth, too cowardly to fight for you. He cried for the life they could have had.

He sat there, surrounded by the ghosts of your past, and he was alone. The pain was an ocean, a vast, bottomless ocean of grief and regret. He had all the time in the world now, all the time he had been begging for. But it was a cruel joke, a hollow victory. Because the one person he wanted to share that time with was gone. And he was left with nothing but the silence, the memories, and the knowledge that he had failed you.

He had promised to stay with you, to fight for you. But he hadn't. He had watched you slip away, a ghost in your own home, and he had done nothing but watch. He had been a coward, and now, he was paying the price. He was alone, and he would be alone forever. The terminal illness hadn't just taken you. It had taken him too. He was just a shell, a hollow echo of the person he once was, condemned to a life of silent, endless torment.

꩜ Masterlist

꩜ One shots requests opened

[clematiss45]

A Package for my Heart

✮ Summary : On his delivery night routine, Ahn Suho wasn't ready for the rush of emotions he would feel the moment you opened that door.

✮ Contains : Fluff. Pure and only fluff. Lovesick Ahn Suho gang

✮ Pairing : Ahn Suho x foreign!reader

✮ Word Count : 6625 words

A/N : AHHRGGG GUYS I'M SO PROUD OF THIS ONE OMGGG <33

The rain fell in a steady, cold drizzle, blurring the city lights into impressionistic smears of color. The air was heavy with the scent of wet asphalt and fried food, a familiar mix for Ahn Suho. His bike hummed beneath him, the tires cutting through puddles as he navigated the slick streets. It was just another night of deliveries, a monotonous rhythm of picking up and dropping off that filled the hours and paid the bills.

He pulled up to a non-descript apartment building, the kind with long, sterile hallways and identical doors. The delivery was for unit 4B. As he walked down the hall, the sound of his own footsteps was the only thing that broke the silence. He knocked on the door, the knuckles of his hand making a solid, firm sound.

You, on the other side, had just finished a long night of studying. Your textbooks were spread out on the floor, a tangle of Korean vocabulary lists and grammar notes. The knock on the door startled you slightly, a momentary break in the quiet solitude of your new life in Seoul. You were still finding your footing in this city, a stranger in a strange land.

The door opened, and Suho's world came to a halt.

You stood there, framed by the warm glow of your apartment light. Your hair, damp from a recent shower, was a dark contrast against your soft, casual clothes. Your eyes, accustomed to the silence and isolation of your apartment, met his with a look of simple indifference. To Suho, however, they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. The rain-streaked fluorescent hallway and the smell of the night faded away, replaced by the warmth of your presence. He felt an unfamiliar knot form in his chest, a flutter he hadn't experienced before.

He held out the plastic bag, a jumble of fried chicken and condiments. "Uh... your delivery," he managed to stammer, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

You tilted your head slightly, a small frown forming on your lips. The Korean words were still new, often sliding right past your comprehension. "Pardon?" you asked, your voice soft and clear, the accent from your country, Y/C, an unfamiliar but beautiful melody to his ears.

He felt his cheeks heat up, a blush he couldn't control. This was a new and completely unexpected situation. He had never been at a loss for words, but here he was, fumbling like an idiot. He took a breath, slowing down, and repeated the words, "Your delivery. It's here."

You nodded, the frown disappearing as the meaning finally clicked. You reached for your wallet, your fingers brushing against his as you took the bag. The brief contact sent a jolt through him, a strange electric shock that left his skin tingling. He found himself staring at your hands, then at your face, unable to tear his eyes away.

You saw him staring and felt a little awkward. "Thank you," you said, a small, polite smile on your face. You were about to close the door when he spoke again, a sudden, almost desperate question on his lips.

"Where... where are you from?" he asked. The question was unprompted, unprofessional, but he couldn't help himself. He just needed to hear you speak again.

You paused, your hand still on the doorknob. You weren't used to people asking you questions like this in Seoul. "I'm from Y/C," you answered simply, the name of your country feeling like a piece of home you could share. "I'm here for university."

Suho nodded slowly, a genuine, if slightly dazed, smile spreading across his face. "Ah. That's... cool," he said, the word feeling utterly inadequate. He wanted to say more, to ask what you were studying, what you thought of the city, anything to prolong the conversation. But he saw the look in your eyes, the quiet exhaustion, and knew he was keeping you from the rest of your night.

The moment stretched on, a silent space filled with unspoken thoughts and the sound of rain. He knew he had to go. The next delivery was already waiting. He took a final, long look at you, trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. He'd never forget your eyes, your voice, the way the light caught in your hair.

As you finally closed the door, a soft click separating your two worlds, Suho found himself pulling out his phone. He typed your apartment number, 4B, into his notes, a simple act that felt monumental. It was an anchor, a piece of information that tethered him to this moment, to you. He knew he'd be back. He'd make sure of it. His next delivery, and the one after that, would be to unit 4B.

The next morning, the city was washed clean. The rain had passed, leaving behind a crisp, cool air that carried the faint scent of blossoming trees. Suho's usual restless energy felt muted, replaced by a strange, quiet hum that seemed to resonate with the city's new atmosphere. He wasn't thinking about the next delivery or the fight that was brewing in the back alleys. His mind kept replaying the image of a dimly lit hallway and a girl with eyes like a calm sea.

He was sitting in the high school canteen, the usual cacophony of students' chatter and clanging trays a distant noise. Sieun sat across from him, his head buried in a book, a textbook on philosophy, of all things. Beomseok was beside him, picking at his food with a look of quiet contemplation. The two of them were the constants in Suho's life, the anchors in a sea of chaos.

"Hey," Beomseok began, his voice soft, "you're really quiet today. Everything okay?"

Suho just sighed, pushing his food around with his chopsticks. He couldn't bring himself to eat. He was too full of... something he couldn't quite name. Longing? Hope? He didn't know. He just knew he was different.

Sieun, without even looking up from his book, spoke with a dry, sarcastic tone that was uniquely his. "He's probably fallen in love. That's the only thing that could make him this pathetic."

Suho's head snapped up. "It's not pathetic! And I didn't fall in love, not yet anyway," he grumbled, a blush creeping up his neck.

Beomseok gave a small, awkward smile. "So, what happened? You met someone?"

"Last night. On a delivery," Suho said, the words tumbling out like a confession. "She was... she was beautiful, man. Like, really beautiful. The most beautiful person I've ever seen. She was from some other country, here for studies."

Sieun finally lowered his book, a look of mock seriousness on his face. "A foreign girl? Wow, Suho, you're really expanding your horizons. Did you get her number? Or did you just stare at her like a lost puppy?"

Suho scowled at him. "I didn't get her number! She's still learning Korean, I barely even talked to her. And I didn't stare like a lost puppy!" He knew it was a lie, but he had to say it. "I just... I don't know, man. There was just something about her. The way her eyes looked, the way she spoke... It was just her. She was the one."

Beomseok tried to be helpful. "Well, do you know where she lives? Maybe you can find a reason to go back?"

Suho's eyes lit up. "I do! I wrote down her address. I'm going to make sure my next delivery is to her place. I'll even ask for that route if I have to."

Sieun shook his head, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. "He's lost. We've lost him. To some girl he met for five minutes and now he thinks they're destined to be together." He picked up his book again, as if the conversation was too much for him to handle.

Suho ignored him, his gaze distant, seeing not the crowded canteen but a single, brightly lit apartment door. The knot in his chest from last night was back, but this time, it felt less like a knot and more like a hopeful, fluttering warmth. "It's her," he whispered, mostly to himself. "I know it is.”

The phone screen was a constant source of agony, a digital mirror reflecting Suho's growing frustration. For three days, his fingers had automatically refreshed the delivery app, scanning a sea of addresses for just one specific unit number. He was in a group chat with Sieun and Beomseok, his thumb hovering over the keypad, a new complaint forming on his tongue.

[Suho]

Still nothing. Not a single delivery to that apartment complex. It’s like she just vanished or something.

[Sieun]

Maybe she's not ordering in anymore. Or maybe she found a boyfriend and is eating home-cooked meals. Lol.

[Beomseok]

Don't say that, man. She's probably just busy with school. You know how it is.

[Suho]

Yeah, maybe. But I'm starting to think I just imagined the whole thing. The light, her eyes... it all just feels like a dream now.

He was about to put his phone away, a heavy sigh escaping his lips, when a notification flashed on the screen. A new batch of orders. He swiped to open it, his heart not even bothering to quicken its pace. He was prepared for the familiar disappointment. But then, as he scrolled, a line of text seemed to leap out at him, a beacon in the digital darkness.

Unit 4B.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, but the words remained, clear and vibrant. It wasn't a dream. It was real.

[Suho]

GUYS. I FOUND IT. I HAVE HER ADDRESS. IT'S HER!!!

A moment of stunned silence from the group chat, then Sieun's message popped up.

[Sieun]

Don't have a heart attack, Romeo. Go get her.

Suho didn't even bother to reply. He shoved his phone into his pocket, the screen still glowing with his moment of victory. His eyes found the package, a simple brown bag with her name on it, sitting innocently on the counter. He snatched it up, the paper warm against his cold hands, a new kind of energy coursing through him.

The bike roared to life, the sound a powerful, angry growl that matched the rhythm of his beating heart. He sped through the city, but this time, his focus wasn't on getting the deliveries done as quickly as possible. Instead, he found himself meticulously planning his route, a new strategy taking shape in his mind. He would do all the other deliveries first, the ones that didn't matter. He would save hers for last.

Every other drop-off became a stepping stone, a hurdle to clear before he could finally see you again. A burger to an old woman, a pizza to a family, a box of fried chicken to a group of rowdy high schoolers. Each one felt like an eternity, a pointless task standing between him and his goal. With each ring of a doorbell, with each exchange of money and a nod, his anticipation grew. The world outside his little bubble of hope and anxiety seemed to slow down, the city's usual chaos muted and distant.

Finally, the last delivery was made. The last package was gone. All that was left was the bag for you, nestled in his insulated delivery box. He took a deep breath, the cold night air filling his lungs. It was time. He took off again, the city streets a blur of neon and headlights. He found himself at the familiar apartment complex, the same sterile hallway, the same door. He was back where his world had been turned upside down.

He walked to your door, the package held tightly in his hands. He took a moment, staring at the number 4B, to compose himself. He wasn't the fumbling, stuttering delivery boy from three nights ago. He was Ahn Suho, a guy who knew what he wanted and was determined to get it. He knocked, a firm, confident rhythm, and waited. His heart, however, was a frantic drum solo against his ribs.

His confident facade shattered the moment the door clicked open. You were standing there, just as he remembered, just as beautiful. But this time, a soft, small smile touched your lips when you saw him. A flicker of recognition in your eyes. That simple, genuine smile was all it took to turn his carefully constructed composure into dust. The confident Ahn Suho who had meticulously planned his route and rehearsed his lines was gone, replaced by the stuttering boy from three nights ago.

"Hi," you said, your voice a little more familiar now, a little less cautious. "You again."

He held out the bag, the paper rustling in his trembling hands. "Your... your delivery," he managed to say, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

You chuckled softly, a sound that made his heart skip a beat. "I know. It's the same thing as last time. I guess I have a bad habit of ordering this late." You reached for your wallet, your fingers brushing against his again as you took the bag. The shock was still there, but this time, it was a little sweeter, a little less surprising.

"No, it's fine," he said quickly, the words a messy jumble. "I mean, it's not bad. It's... good."

You looked at him, a genuine look of amusement in your eyes. "Are you okay? You seem a little nervous."

"I'm fine!" he blurted out, then immediately regretted it. He took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. "Sorry. I'm just... tired. Long night."

You nodded, a knowing look on your face. "I get it. I'm trying to finish my assignments, so I'm not sleeping much either. That's why I need the food." You paused, then added, "Thank you, by the way. For the delivery."

The conversation felt a little more natural this time. You weren't a stranger anymore, but not quite a friend either. He was desperate to keep the moment from ending. "So," he started, "how's... how's studying? The Korean, I mean."

"It's hard," you admitted with a small laugh. "The grammar is so confusing. I think my brain is going to melt."

"Yeah, it's pretty tough," he agreed, a small, genuine smile on his face. "But you're doing good. I can understand you."

You beamed at him, a warmth spreading through his chest. "Thank you. That actually means a lot."

The silence returned, but this time it wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, a shared space between two people who were no longer strangers. He knew he had to go, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. He had to take the risk. It was now or never.

He took a deep breath, his hands balling into fists inside his pockets. "Hey," he began, his voice a little lower, a little more serious. "I know this is weird, but... would you be willing to give me your number? I could help you with the Korean, or we could just... talk. If you want." The words came out in a rush, a clumsy, honest plea.

You looked at him for a long moment, a gentle, thoughtful look in your eyes. The smile returned, and this time, it was different. It was a little shy, a little hopeful. You reached for your phone, unlocking it and holding it out to him. "I'd like that," you said simply, your voice soft and clear. "I'd like that a lot.”

The next day, the high school canteen was loud and boisterous as usual, but to Ahn Suho, it felt different. The air tasted sweeter, the chatter of students sounded like a celebratory anthem, and even the bland lunch tasted like a gourmet meal. He was practically vibrating with an energy he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

He sat with Beomseok and Sieun, barely touching his food, a wide, goofy grin plastered across his face. He kept pulling out his phone, staring at the new contact he had saved. Y/n. Just her name, but it felt like a whole world.

Sieun, ever the perceptive one, looked at him with a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "What's with you? You look like you just won the lottery."

Suho couldn't contain himself. He practically shouted, "I did! I got her number!"

Beomseok’s face lit up with a genuine smile. "Seriously? That's great, Suho! I told you it would work out."

Suho nodded enthusiastically, a ball of nervous energy. "I know, right? I just... I had to ask. And she said yes! I was so nervous, I almost screwed it up. But she gave it to me." He held up his phone, showing them the contact, as if it were a trophy.

Sieun just shook his head, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. "You know, for someone who can take down a whole gang of guys without breaking a sweat, you really crumble when you see a pretty girl."

"It's different!" Suho shot back, not even bothering to be offended. He was too happy. "This is... she's different. I don't know, man. It just feels... right."

Beomseok leaned in, his smile soft and warm. "So, what are you going to do now? Are you going to text her?"

Suho's expression turned serious for a moment. He looked down at his phone, his thumb hovering over her name. "I don't know what to say. 'Hey, it's the delivery guy?' That's lame."

Sieun let out a dramatic sigh. "Okay, let me give you some advice, you clueless romantic. Just say hi. Ask her about her studies. Be yourself. Not this hyper-caffeinated maniac version of yourself."

Suho ignored the jab, his mind already racing. "I could ask her if she needs help with her Korean. We talked about that. Yeah, that's it. It's the perfect excuse." He looked up at them, his eyes sparkling with newfound purpose. "I'm going to text her. Right now."

He put his phone down on the table, a new, determined look on his face. The energy that had been buzzing in his veins settled into a focused resolve. It was a new kind of fight, a new kind of challenge, and he was ready for it.

The lunch tray in front of Suho remained untouched. His focus was entirely on the phone in his hands, his thumb hovering over the conversation with Y/n. He had sent a simple "Hi, it's Suho," and was now waiting with a level of anticipation that was completely out of character.

"Eat something," Sieun said, pushing a piece of meat from his own tray toward Suho's plate. "You're going to pass out from a lack of food and an excess of infatuation."

Suho barely registered the gesture. "I can't," he mumbled, his eyes glued to the screen. "I'm talking to her."

Beomseok smiled. "Did she reply?"

Suho's face lit up as a new message notification popped up.

[Y/N]

Oh, hey! I wasn't sure if you'd text.

"She replied," Suho announced, his voice a breathless whisper. A wide, uncontrollable grin spread across his face as he began typing.

[Suho]

I had to. Just wanted to make sure you were real and not a figment of my imagination.

"Seriously?" said Sieun, shaking his head. "You're going to embarrass yourself before you even get to the first date."

"No way. It's funny. She'll think it's funny." Respond Suho with a smirk on his face, his eyes never leaving his phone.

A moment later, his phone buzzed again.

[Y/N]

Haha, I promise I'm real. Just finished studying, actually. My brain is officially fried.

Suho's eyes widened, a new plan forming in his head. This was his opening.

[Suho]

That's what I figured. I'm no expert, but if you ever want help with Korean, I'm a pretty good tutor. You can get me to help you out if you want.

Sieun groaned. "You're not a tutor. You barely pay attention in class."

"Shhh," Suho hissed, his fingers flying across the keypad. "I can teach her what I know."

[Y/N]

That's so nice of you! I might have to take you up on that sometime. My textbook is a little confusing sometimes. Thanks!

Suho let out a triumphant "Yes!" and finally reached for his chopsticks, taking a large, satisfied bite of food.

"See?" he said to Sieun, his mouth full. "Smooth. It's all about being smooth.”

A few days had passed, filled with a steady stream of text messages that quickly moved from the nervous and awkward to the comfortable and easy. You and Suho had talked about everything from your classes to his job, and the promise of a "study session" had finally turned into a plan. The meeting spot was a small, cozy cafe just a few blocks from your apartment building, a place Suho had never been to before.

He was there early, a large tumbler of iced coffee sitting untouched in front of him. He felt ridiculously out of place, surrounded by students hunched over laptops and soft music playing from unseen speakers. He wasn't in a back alley, he wasn't on his bike, he wasn't in a classroom. He was in a cafe, waiting for you, and his heart was a frantic drum solo against his ribs.

He was just about to text you to ask if you were on your way when the little bell over the door chimed. He looked up, and for the second time in his life, the entire world seemed to blur, leaving only you in sharp focus. You were wearing a simple sweater and jeans, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and the biggest, most genuine smile he had ever seen.

"Hi," you said, walking over to his table. "Sorry I'm a little late. I got caught up with an assignment."

"No, it's fine!" he said, suddenly finding his voice. "I was just... uh, waiting. I'm glad you came."

You sat down across from him, pulling out a heavy Korean textbook and a notepad filled with notes in your language. The scent of your shampoo filled the air around them, and Suho found it hard to focus on anything else.

"Okay," you said, opening the book to a dog-eared page. "So this part here... I just don't understand it at all. The sentence structure is so confusing."

He leaned in, his eyes scanning the page, the words a familiar blur of characters he had learned his entire life without a second thought. But now, with you beside him, they felt new and important. He took a deep breath, trying to be the tutor he had so confidently proclaimed himself to be.

He started explaining, breaking down the grammar rule into simple, understandable pieces. You listened intently, your brow furrowed in concentration. He noticed the way your pen would pause in mid-air as you thought, the way your eyes would light up when something finally clicked. He found himself more engrossed in watching you learn than in the actual lesson itself.

"Oh! I get it!" you suddenly exclaimed, the sound of your voice a triumphant melody. "So it's like this..." You wrote a perfect example sentence in your notebook, the characters a little shaky but correct.

He looked at the sentence, then at your face, a proud smile spreading across his own. "Yeah," he said, his voice soft with genuine admiration. "Exactly like that. You're doing great."

You laughed, a joyful, bright sound that filled the small cafe. "I think you're just a good teacher."

The conversation drifted away from the textbook, moving to small talk and shared laughter. The iced coffee melted into a watery mess, and the pages of your textbook went unread.

The real lesson that day wasn't in grammar or vocabulary. It was in the simple, quiet magic of two people connecting.

The walk back to his bike was colder than the walk to the cafe had been, but Suho barely noticed. The world had gone from a series of routine tasks to a vibrant, living thing, and he felt a part of it in a way he hadn't before. He had spent the entire afternoon with you, the hours melting away as you talked about your life in Y/C. He learned about your family, your traditions, and the small, unique details of a life lived a world away from his.

He was still replaying the sound of your laugh in his head when he unlocked his front door, the small, cramped apartment a stark contrast to the cozy cafe and the endless conversation they'd shared. The fluorescent kitchen light flickered on, and he pulled out his phone. A flurry of notifications from his group chat with Sieun and Beomseok lit up the screen.

[Beomseok]

Hey, where'd you go? You disappeared.

[Sieun]

Did you die on your way to see her? Is this a ghost typing?

[Beomseok]

Suho? Are you okay?

Suho grinned, the tired ache in his muscles forgotten. His fingers flew across the keyboard.

[Suho]

I'm alive. I'm more than alive. We met up. It was perfect.

[Sieun]

And? What happened? Did you talk? Or did you just stare at her like a goldfish?

[Suho]

We talked for hours. She's from y/c y'know. It's so different. She told me about her family and the way things are there.

[Beomseok]

That's amazing, Suho! I'm really happy for you.

[Suho]

I know. She talked about everything. And I just... I kept thinking about how different her life is from mine. I've always just been in this one place, doing the same things. But she comes from somewhere else, with all these different experiences. It's so cool.

[Sieun]

You sound like you've been brainwashed. Did she join a cult?

Suho laughed out loud, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. He ignored Sieun's message, his mind already drifting back to the afternoon. He remembered the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your home, and the way you laughed when he tried to explain some of the strange slang he and his friends used. The difference between your lives wasn't a wall between you; it felt like a bridge. It was new, exciting, and he felt a pull toward you that was stronger than ever.

He sat on his bed, the phone resting on his lap. He wasn't just attracted to you; he was fascinated. He had a million questions he wanted to ask, a thousand things he wanted to know. He realized that this feeling was different from anything he'd ever experienced. It wasn't just about a pretty face or a quick crush. This was about a connection, a window into a world he never knew existed.

The days turned into a blur of text messages, late-night phone calls, and shared moments that solidified the budding connection between you and Suho. He found himself thinking about you constantly—not just as the beautiful girl from the apartment, but as someone who genuinely listened to him, someone who made his world feel a little bigger. His friends, Sieun and Beomseok, were the only ones who truly understood the extent of his newfound happiness. He would talk to them about you constantly, sharing every small detail of your conversations and every laugh you shared.

[Beomseok]

So, did you tell her about the time you almost got hit by a bus trying to save a stray dog?

[Suho]

No, not yet. I don't want her to think I'm crazy. You're the one that almost got hit.

[Sieun]

She probably already thinks you're crazy. You've been talking about her for weeks and we still haven't met her. Are you sure you didn't just make her up in your head?

[Suho]

I didn't make her up! She's real. And you're going to meet her. Today.

Sieun's teasing was a constant, but Suho knew his friends were genuinely happy for him. They had been there for all the boring, lonely days, and now they were there for this. He had made up his mind. It was time to introduce the two most important parts of his life to each other. He was going to introduce you to his best friends, and he was going to introduce his best friends to the girl he had been longing for.

The meeting spot was a small, bustling noodle shop, the air thick with the scent of spices and conversation. Suho arrived first with Sieun and Beomseok, the two of them a familiar, grounding presence on either side of him. He was a nervous wreck, his usual calm demeanor replaced by fidgeting hands and a racing mind. This wasn't just a date; this was a test, a merging of two separate worlds he had kept apart for so long.

"What if you guys don't like her?" he mumbled to Beomseok, his voice tight with anxiety.

Beomseok gave him a reassuring look. "We already like her, Suho. We've heard all about her."

Sieun, ever the silent observer, just watched the restaurant door, a faint smirk on his lips. "Let's hope she's as real as you say she is."

Just then, the bell over the door chimed, and every ounce of Suho's anxiety vanished. You were standing in the doorway, a small, tentative smile on your face as your eyes scanned the room. The bustling noise of the restaurant faded into a distant hum. You were wearing a simple sweater and jeans, a little out of place in the chaotic atmosphere, yet you were the only thing he could see.

Your eyes met his, and the smile on your face brightened, washing away the last of his fears. He stood up, a genuine, relieved grin spreading across his face, and walked over to you.

"Hi," you said softly, a hint of shyness in your voice.

"You're here," he replied, as if he still couldn't quite believe it. He gently took your hand and led you back to the table, his friends watching their every move.

The introductions were a mix of awkwardness and warmth.

"Y/n, this is Sieun," Suho said, gesturing to the silent, observant boy. Sieun gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes studying you carefully.

"And this is Beomseok," Suho continued, his hand resting on Beomseok's shoulder. Beomseok offered a wide, kind smile. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Suho talks about you all the time."

You laughed, the sound putting Suho at ease. "I've heard a lot about you guys too. He made it sound like you're his two best friends."

Suho's heart swelled. He looked from you to his friends, a silent, thankful look passing between them. For a moment, the three most important people in his life were all in one place, their separate worlds finally connected. And it felt exactly as he had always hoped it would.

The initial awkwardness of the introduction quickly melted away, replaced by the easy flow of conversation. You, Sieun, and Beomseok found common ground surprisingly fast. Beomseok, with his gentle nature, was a natural at making you feel comfortable, asking about your studies and life in Korea with genuine curiosity. Sieun, despite his initial standoffishness, proved to be an astute observer, interjecting with a witty comment or a sharp question that made everyone laugh.

Suho, for his part, was content to just watch, a quiet smile on his face. He’d never seen you interact with his friends before, and it was a revelation. Your laughter was a bright, clear sound that filled the small space around their table. You told them stories about your country, and they listened, captivated by a world so different from their own.

"So, you're the reason Suho's been acting like a lovesick puppy for the past month," Sieun finally said, a mischievous grin on his face.

Suho's cheeks flushed, but you just laughed. "Is that what he's been telling you?"

"Something like that," Beomseok chimed in, a fond look in his eyes. "He said you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen."

Suho shot them both a glare, but his heart was pounding with a mix of embarrassment and happiness. The words were a testament to the way he felt, and he was glad you could hear them. He found himself looking at you, a silent question in his eyes. You looked back at him, your smile soft and your eyes holding a warmth that made him feel like the only two people in the room.

The afternoon ended as the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow over the city. They walked you back to your apartment building, the conversation a comfortable, quiet hum. As you stood at your front door, the same one where this all began, Suho found himself struggling for words again.

"Thanks for today," you said, a genuine warmth in your voice. "It was really nice to meet them."

"Yeah," Suho said, his hands in his pockets. "They liked you. A lot."

You smiled, a soft, beautiful expression that made his heart skip a beat. "I liked them too. They're good friends."

You were about to go inside when you turned back to him, a sudden thought crossing your mind. "Hey, do you want to... walk me to school tomorrow? My university is close to your school, right?"

Suho's eyes widened, a rush of pure joy shooting through him. "Yeah," he said, the word coming out a little breathless. "Yeah, I'd like that. A lot."

As you disappeared behind the door, Suho stood there for a long moment, a wide, genuine grin on his face. The cold, lonely nights of deliveries were a thing of the past. A new chapter had begun.

Weeks had blurred into a rhythm of shared walks to school, late-night texts, and quiet study sessions. Suho’s world, once a series of monotonous deliveries and silent classrooms, was now painted with the vibrant colors of your presence. He knew he was in love. The feeling wasn't a sudden storm but a steady, quiet sunrise that filled him with warmth and purpose. The ache to tell you, to put a name to the feeling that consumed him, had become a dull roar he could no longer ignore.

He was sitting with Beomseok and Sieun at their usual lunch table, but his food sat untouched. This time, his quietness wasn't a sign of nervousness, but of a fierce, determined resolve.

"I'm going to tell her," he announced, his voice low but firm.

Sieun looked up from his book, a rare expression of genuine surprise on his face. "Tell her what? That you secretly follow her home and watch her from the shadows?"

Beomseok smiled, a mix of hope and concern in his eyes. "Tell her you like her, you mean?"

Suho nodded, his gaze distant as he thought of you. "No. More than that. I'm going to tell her that... I think I'm in love with her. I can't keep it inside anymore. I feel like I'm going to explode."

Sieun finally closed his book, giving Suho his full attention. "You really are serious, aren't you? After all this time, you're finally going to do it."

"Yeah," Suho said, a new, nervous energy sparking in his veins. "I have to. I have to know if she feels the same. If she doesn't... at least I'll know. But I can't keep pretending."

His friends gave him their silent support—a firm nod from Beomseok, a rare, un-sarcastic look of encouragement from Sieun. They knew what this meant to him.

That same evening, the city was draped in the soft glow of streetlights, the air cool and calm. Suho was on his final delivery of the night, a single, unassuming paper bag in his hands. He had meticulously planned his route, just like that first night, but this time, the order was for you. This delivery was a pretext, a final, necessary ritual before he took the biggest step of his life.

He walked up to your apartment door, the familiar number "4B" a beacon in the quiet hallway. His heart, usually a steady drum, was now a chaotic rhythm of fear and hope. He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, and knocked.

The door opened, and you stood there, a soft, warm light from your apartment framing you. Your eyes widened a little when you saw him, a smile beginning to form on your lips.

"Suho," you said, your voice a soft, beautiful melody. "I wasn't expecting you."

He held out the bag, the words he had planned so carefully catching in his throat. He looked at your face, at the gentle warmth in your eyes, and all his rehearsed lines vanished. He just saw you. The real you.

"Y/n," he began, his voice a little shaky, "I'm not here for a delivery." He put the bag down on the floor, his hands suddenly feeling heavy and useless. He took a step closer, his eyes pleading with yours. "I'm here because... I can't keep doing this. I can't keep pretending I'm just your friend, or your delivery guy, or your study partner."

He took another deep breath, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Y/n, I'm... I'm in love with you.”

A breathless silence hung between you, a heavy, beautiful weight. Suho’s confession had been a raw, unfiltered rush of emotion, and now all he could do was stand there, waiting. The fluorescent light from the hallway seemed to flicker, and the world held its breath.

You looked at him, your eyes wide with surprise, a mix of emotions playing across your face that he couldn't decipher. Fear, hope, confusion—he saw it all. The silence stretched on, and a cold dread began to seep into his bones. He was ready for a fight, for a verbal sparring match, but this silence was a new kind of terror. He braced himself for the worst, for the polite rejection that would shatter the world he had so carefully built with you.

Then, a slow, gentle smile began to form on your lips.

It started small, a shy curve that quickly blossomed into a radiant, genuine expression of pure joy. The tension in the air vanished, replaced by a warmth that was uniquely yours.

"I wasn't expecting that," you said, your voice a soft whisper.

"I know," he managed to say, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry, I just... I had to."

You took a small step forward, closing the distance between you. Your hand reached up, your fingers gently touching his cheek. The contact sent a jolt through him, a powerful, electric shock that he had felt from the very first time you met.

"You don't have to apologize," you said, your eyes shining with a mixture of tears and laughter. "Because I'm in love with you too."

The words were a cascade of light and music, a beautiful sound he had been longing to hear for weeks. The world snapped back into focus, brighter and clearer than ever before. He wasn't just a delivery boy anymore, or a student, or a friend. He was yours. And you were his.

He leaned down, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded, a small, encouraging gesture. He gently closed the final distance between you, and in the soft light of your apartment hallway, he kissed you. It was a kiss that held all the fear, all the longing, all the hope of the past few weeks. It was a new beginning, a quiet promise made in a simple hallway, a promise that had started with a delivery and ended with a confession. The world kept turning, but for Suho, it was finally turning in the right direction.

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[clematiss45]

━━━ 'CHAPTER SIXTEEN' [WHEN DAWN BREAKS]

SYNOPSIS ➢ did you know raccoons are very intelligent and agile climbers?

PAIRING ➢ lee suhyeok x male!reader

AU ➢ enemies-to-lovers au!

CONTENT WARNING ➢ this chapter contains; isolation, anxiety, jealousy, feeling of unease, worriness, mentions of bullying, death, depression, some fluff, reoccuring ptsd, mentions of gore, blood, cannibalism [let me know if i missed any!]

NEXT I PREVIOUS

in the depths of the night, the cozy room remains shrouded in darkness, the only sounds the gentle hum of soft breaths and the occasional snores of the sleepers. suhyeok stirs, his body stirring from its earlier stupor, as he's jolted awake by a gnawing stomach ache and a parched throat. he sits up with a quiet groan, his coughing fit a low, stifled sound, as he struggles to clear his dry throat.

disoriented, suhyeok looks around, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness, and realizes that the night is still deep, the others around him lost in their own slumber. he swings his legs over the side of the bed, his movements cautious, as he takes stock of his surroundings. the soft breathing and snores of his companions create a soothing background hum, a reminder that he's not alone in the darkness. suhyeok's gaze drifts around the room, his thoughts foggy, as he slowly recalls the events of the previous night, and the realization dawns on him that he'd had far too much to drink.

suhyeok carefully stands up, his movements slow and deliberate, as he tries to shake off the lingering fogginess. he takes a deep breath, feeling a slight spin, but manages to steady himself. the dryness in his throat and the gnawing stomach ache serve as a stark reminder of his dehydration, and he knows he needs to quench his thirst.

with a quiet resolve, suhyeok decides to head downstairs to fetch a drink, hoping to find something to alleviate his discomfort. he takes small, cautious steps, trying not to disturb the others, as he makes his way to the door. the darkness seems to swallow him whole, but he navigates the room by feel, his hand brushing against the doorframe as he slips out into the hallway. the creak of the door is barely audible, and suhyeok pauses for a moment, listening to ensure he hasn't awakened anyone. satisfied that all remains quiet, he begins his descent into the darkness, his footsteps soft on the stairs as he heads toward the store’s aisles in search of relief.

suhyeok's eyes scan the shelves, squinting in the dim light as he searches for a specific brand of juice that he knows will hit the spot. water won't cut it tonight; he needs something with more flavor, more punch. he opens door after door, revealing rows of chilled drinks, but his sought-after juice remains elusive. the soft hum of the refrigeration units and the faint clinking of bottles accompany his search, but he's starting to lose hope.

undeterred, suhyeok pauses, thinking for a moment as he tries to recall where else the juice might be stored. his gaze drifts to the door marked "employees only," and a spark of determination ignites within him. he remembers that the freezer in the back often holds additional stock, and he's willing to take a chance. with a quiet resolve, suhyeok pushes open the door, stepping into the unknown, as he ventures into the restricted area in search of his coveted juice.

suhyeok tiptoes across the floor, his eyes fixed on kyungho's sleeping form, wrapped snugly in a sleeping bag and turned away from him. despite the dimness, suhyeok's gaze lingers on the back of kyungho's head, his expression twisting into a faint glare. the tension in his body is palpable, but he doesn't linger, instead choosing to continue his quest for the elusive juice.

he pads silently toward the door marked "freezer," his movements economical and precise. as he pushes the door open, a faint rush of cold air greets him, and he slips inside, closing the door behind him. the dim lighting within the freezer forces suhyeok to squint, his eyes straining to adjust. he hugs himself, the chill of the freezer seeping into his bones, as he begins to scan the shelves.

his fingers brush against various containers, and he mutters a soft curse as he mistakes a carton of milk for his coveted juice. "shit," he breathes, his voice barely audible, as he returns the milk to its shelf. undeterred, suhyeok presses on, his determination to find the juice driving him to venture deeper into the freezer.

suhyeok's search for the juice continues, his eyes scanning the shelves as he moves deeper into the freezer. his foot kicks against something on the ground, and he glances down to see a piece of jerky lying forgotten. he kicks it again, his thoughts elsewhere, as he ponders the possibility of finding the juice.

his mind begins to wander, and he can't help but think of you, imagining how you'd be shivering even more than he is, given your smaller stature. the thought brings a faint smile to his lips, but it's short-lived, as his attention is drawn to the deep freezer door.

he remembered sootting it on the first day they arrived. the door is imposing, with a massive padlock and chain securing it in place. suhyeok's curiosity is piqued, as he recognizes the same type of padlock and chain kyungho uses for the front and back doors. he stares at the door, his mind racing with questions, and his hands seem to move of their own accord, reaching out to try the door. he attempts to open it, his movements cautious, as he tries not to make too much noise. the chain and knob jingle softly, but the door refuses to budge. suhyeok stands there, perplexed, wondering what could possibly require such extreme security measures. his eyes narrow, his mind whirling with possibilities, as he tries to make sense of the mysterious door.

suhyeok's attention returns to his original quest, and he begins to scan the shelves once more, searching for the elusive juice. his eyes roam over the rows of frozen goods, his fingers trailing over the containers as he searches.

but then, a soft thud echoes from the direction of the padlocked door. suhyeok's movements freeze, his head swiveling back towards the door. he stands stock-still, his ears straining to discern whether he actually heard the sound or just imagined it. the thud was so faint that suhyeok can't shake off the feeling that it might have been just his imagination playing tricks on him.

his gaze lingers on the door, his mind racing with possibilities. he waits, holding his breath, wondering if he'll hear anything else. the silence is oppressive, punctuated only by the soft hum of the freezer's machinery. suhyeok's eyes remain fixed on the door, his senses on high alert, as he tries to determine whether he really did hear something or not.

suhyeok's attention is now fully focused on the door, his curiosity and concern piqued by the second, louder thud. he quickly walks over to the door, his mind racing with the possibility that someone might be in distress. he knocks on the door, his ear pressed against it, waiting for any sound that might indicate someone's presence.

but there is only silence. undeterred, suhyeok takes a step back, his eyes fixed on the door, and prepares to force it open. his muscles tense, ready to propel him forward, but before he can make a move, he's startled by a presence behind him.

he spins around, his heart racing, to see kyungho's tired form standing in the doorway, watching him with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. kyungho's voice is laced with a groggy irritation, "why are you making so much noise?" he groans, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in suhyeok's position in front of the padlocked door.

suhyeok's gaze remains fixed on kyungho's face, his expression a mask of uncertainty and suspicion. he doesn't respond to kyungho's question, his silence speaking volumes as he continues to stare accusatorily at the other boy. kyungho's eyes narrow slightly, his brow furrowing as he tries to decipher suhyeok's behavior. "what is it?" he asks again, his tone a mixture of curiosity and concern.

but suhyeok remains silent, his eyes never leaving kyungho's face. kyungho's gaze drifts from suhyeok's face to his stance in front of the padlocked door, and a look of realization dawns on him. he lets out a low, amused laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "oh, did you hear something from there?" he asks, his voice laced with mirth, as he points to the door.

suhyeok remains silent, his eyes fixed on kyungho's face as he tries to process the situation. he glances briefly at the front of the freezer, gauging the distance, before returning his attention to kyungho.

kyungho, seeming to sense suhyeok's unease, launches into an explanation. "look, when i first got here, there was a bunch of raccoons running around. i tried to get them out of the store, but they'd find a way back in somehow." he pounds on the door, and the sound is followed by a few small thuds, as if something is scurrying around inside. suhyeok's eyes widen slightly, but he remains frozen in place, holding himself and listening intently.

kyungho's voice is laced with amusement as he continues. "i had to lock them up in here, otherwise they'd eat all the food, man." he lets out a low chuckle, and suhyeok's gaze lingers on his face, searching for any sign of deception.

but suhyeok's exhaustion and thirst are starting to take their toll. his mind is foggy, and he's not thinking clearly. he looks at kyungho, and for a moment, he decides to believe him. "oh," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, as he coughs due to his parched throat. the sound is rough and dry, a testament to his desperate need for a drink.

kyungho's expectant gaze lingers on suhyeok, awaiting a response. after a moment, he asks, "were you looking for something?" his tone is casual, but his eyes betray a hint of curiosity. suhyeok clears his throat, wincing at the dryness, and rubs it gingerly before responding. "i... needed juice," he says hesitantly, his voice still rough from thirst. "i'm really thirsty."

kyungho's face lights up with understanding, and he nods enthusiastically. "oh! yeah," he says, as he bends down and retrieves a box from underneath a shelf. suhyeok's eyes widen slightly as kyungho rips the box open with his bare hands, the cardboard tearing apart with ease.

suhyeok's brows furrow in surprise, his mind struggling to comprehend kyungho's display of strength. he knew kyungho was strong, but this seemed excessive. a faint sense of unease creeps up suhyeok's spine as he watches kyungho rummage through the box, his movements fluid and effortless.

kyungho's hands move swiftly through the contents of the box, his fingers closing around a familiar shape. he pulls out a carton of juice, the same brand and flavor suhyeok been searching for. "aha!" kyungho exclaims, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. "i knew we had some stashed away." suhyeoks eyes widen in surprise, his thirst-addled brain struggling to comprehend how kyungho had managed to find the exact juice he was looking for. he takes the carton from kyungho, his hands closing around it gratefully. "thanks," he says, his voice still rough from thirst.

kyungho nods, his smile still plastered on his face. "no problem, man. now, how about we get you hydrated?" he suggests, gesturing towards the carton of juice. suhyeok nods, already

twisting open the cap and raising the carton to his lips.

as suhyeok takes a long swig of the juice, he can't help but shiver. the cold liquid seems to spread through his body, exacerbating his chill. he hugs himself, trying to warm up, but his teeth continue to chatter.

kyungho notices suhyeok's shivering and nods sympathetically. "yeah, we should probably head back to bed," he says, his voice low and soothing. "it's not morning yet, and we don't want to be zombies tomorrow."

suhyeok nods in agreement, not laughing at kyungho’s joke, still shivering. he hands the carton of juice back to kyungho, who takes it and begins to close the box. as kyungho moves to leave, suhyeok follows, his eyes fixed on kyungho's back. despite the strangeness of the situation, suhyeok feels a twinge of unease towards kyungho for finding him the juice and for being concerned about his well-being.

suhyeok makes his way back upstairs, his footsteps quiet on the stairs. as he reaches the top, he slides open the door to the boys' room, but hesitates for a moment, peering inside to make sure everyone is asleep. his gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the familiar shapes of his friends' sleeping forms.

his eyes come to rest on your sleeping figure, and for a moment, he feels a sense of ease wash over him. seeing you safe and sound seems to calm his nerves, and he feels a small sense of relief. but his concern for everyone's safety isn't quite assuaged, and he finds himself hesitating, wondering if he should check on the girls as well. after a moment's deliberation, he decides to err on the side of caution and slides open the door to the girls' room, peeking inside to make sure everyone is accounted for. he scans the room quickly, taking in the familiar shapes of the girls' sleeping forms. everyone seems to be present and accounted for, and suhyeok feels a sense of relief wash over him. satisfied that all is well, he quietly closes the door and heads back to the boys' room, ready to try and get some rest.

suhyeok slips back into the boys' room, trying not to make any noise as he makes his way to his bed. he carefully climbs in, trying not to disturb daesu, who is still fast asleep. as he settles in, he can't help but feel a sense of unease still lingering in the back of his mind.

despite his exhaustion, suhyeok finds it difficult to shake off the feeling that something is off. he tries to focus on the sound of wujin’s gentle snores, but his mind keeps wandering back to the strange noises he heard in the freezer, and the unsettling feeling that he's being watched. as he lies there, he can't help but wonder if he's just being paranoid, or if there's really something to be worried about. he tries to calm his racing thoughts, telling himself that everything is fine, but the sense of unease persists, making it difficult for him to drift off to sleep.

suhyeok's eyes remain wide open, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he tries to calm his racing thoughts. he takes slow, deep breaths, attempting to relax his tense muscles. but his mind refuses to quiet down, and he finds himself replaying the events of the night over and over in his head. as he lies there, he becomes aware of the sound of his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears. he tries to focus on the sound, using it as a distraction from his wandering thoughts. but even the rhythmic beating of his heart can't calm his mind, and he finds himself growing more and more restless by the minute. just as suhyeok is starting to feel like he'll never be able to fall asleep, he hears a faint rustling sound coming from wujin’s direction. he turns his head, watching as wujin stirs in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open. suhyeok's gaze meets wujin’s, and for a moment, they just stare at each other.

wujin’s eyes meet suhyeok's, and for a brief moment, they share a silent understanding. wujin sends suhyeok a nod, a small, reassuring gesture that seems to say, "everything's okay." and with that, wujin’s eyes drift shut once more, and he begins to breathe deeply, lost in sleep.

suhyeok watches wujin for a moment, feeling a pang of disappointment. he had been on the verge of telling wujin about the strange feelings he'd been having, about the noises in the freezer and the sense of unease that lingered in the back of his mind. but something holds him back. perhaps it's the fact that wujin seems so peaceful, so calm, that suhyeok doesn't want to disturb him. or maybe it's the fear of being told he's just being paranoid, that there's nothing to worry about. whatever the reason, suhyeok decides to keep his concerns to himself, and instead, he lies back down, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

morning light streams through the window, illuminating the empty room. suhyeok wakes up with a start, disoriented and confused. he looks around, expecting to see wujin and the others, but he's alone. a sense of unease settles in the pit of his stomach as he realizes he's the only one in the room. he quickly throws off his covers and rushes to the window, his movements clumsy with sleep. he squints out into the bright sunlight, his eyes scanning the scene below. his heart sinks as he takes in the sight of even more zombies surrounding the building. the undead are packed in tightly, their hunched forms swaying precariously as they press against each other. the air is thick with their growls and snarls, a chilling cacophony that sends shivers down suhyeok's spine. he feels a cold dread creeping up his legs, his mind racing with the implications of this new development.

suhyeok's instincts kick in, and he quickly heads towards the door, his heart racing with anticipation. but he stops mid-step, his eyes darting back to the room as if searching for something or someone. his gaze lingers for a moment before he remembers his trusty bat.

he rushes back to his sleeping bag and grabs the bat, his fingers wrapping tightly around the familiar grip. with his bat in hand, he heads into the girls' room, pushing open the already ajar door. the room is empty, the beds disheveled, and the air thick with the sense of urgency. suhyeok's eyes scan the room, taking in the signs of a hasty departure. his brow furrows, and he lets out a low curse under his breath. where had everyone gone? and why had they left without him? with a growing sense of unease, suhyeok heads downstairs, his bat at the ready. he's prepared to face whatever dangers lie ahead, his senses on high alert as he descends into the unknown.

suhyeok's search becomes more frantic, his feet pounding against the floor as he runs through the aisles, his bat clutched tightly in his hand. he's no longer just looking for familiar faces; he's desperate to find anyone, to know that he's not alone.

"cheongsan!" he shouts, his voice echoing off the shelves. "namra, onjo?" he spins around, scanning the empty aisles, but there's no response. the silence is oppressive, and suhyeok can feel panic clawing its way up his throat. but then, your face pops into his mind, and his expression hardens, his jaw setting in determination. his eyes narrow, and he grits his teeth, a fierce resolve burning within him. "y/n!" he shouts, his voice ringing out through the empty store, a call to action, a declaration of his determination to find you, no matter what.

meanwhile, you stand on the rooftop with mijin, you're engaged in a hushed conversation about the possibility of hopping across the rooftops to escape the surrounding zombies. mijin's suggestion makes you chuckle, but your amusement is short-lived. a faint voice calls out, and your head snaps towards the group, your ears perked up. "what was that?" onjo asks, her brow furrowed in concern. you exchange a glance with namra, and you both say "suhyeok" in unison. without hesitation, you quickly and carefully make your way towards the fire escape, your heart racing with anticipation. you climb down the ladder, your movements swift and precise. as you reach the bottom, you hop off the ladder and pull open the door, steeling yourself for what you might find.

that's when you see suhyeok, his eyes wild and his bat at the ready. your hands fly up in a calming gesture, and you take a step back, trying to reassure him that you're not a threat. "woah!" you exclaim, trying to diffuse the tension. “what the hell are you doing?” you shout.

you watch as suhyeok's eyes narrow, his grip on the bat tightening. "where's kyungho?" he demands, his voice low and menacing. you can see the anger simmering beneath the surface, and you know you need to tread carefully.

"he's up on the rooftop with everyone else," you reply, trying to keep your tone calm and reassuring. just then, namra and mijin appear behind you, their faces set in determined expressions. mijin's eyes lock onto suhyeok, and she sneers. "put the bat down, you little shit," she says, her voice dripping with disdain. "before you hurt yourself." you quickly intervene, placing a calming hand on mijin's arm. "it's alright," you say, trying to soothe her. "suhyeok's just worried about kyungho. let's not escalate things." mijin's gaze lingers on suhyeok for a moment before she nods, seeming to relax slightly.

suhyeok's expression twists in annoyance as he reluctantly puts down his bat. "i'm not worried about kyungho, the hell with kyungho!" he exclaims, his words dripping with venom. you look at him with doe-eyed confusion, unsure of what to make of his outburst. but before suhyeok can continue, he catches himself, his eyes darting towards you as if searching for something. "i was worried about y..." he trails off, his voice barely above a whisper.

just then, kyungho appears from behind you, along with the rest of the group. "everything alright?" kyungho asks, his hand on your shoulder as he looks at you and suhyeok with concern. you're not sure what to say, but the look in suhyeok's brown eyes makes your chest feel weak. it's as if he's begging you to trust him, to believe that he's not being overly dramatic for nothing. you hesitate for a moment before forcing a smile onto your face. "everything's fine," you say, trying to sound convincing.

you quickly turn to namra and ask if she wants to help you make lunch for everyone. suhyeok looks taken aback, seemingly realizing for the first time that it's already noon. as you turn to namra, suhyeok's eyes linger on you, his gaze burning with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. you try to brush off the feeling, focusing on the task at hand. "yeah, let's get started on lunch," namra says, nodding in agreement.

as you and namra head towards the gimbap aisle, suhyeok's eyes follow you, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern. kyungho notices suhyeok's gaze and raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. mijin, on the other hand, seems to sense the tension in the air. she shoots suhyeok a warning glance before falling into step beside you and namra. "so, what's on the menu for today?" she asks, trying to lighten the mood.

you force a smile, trying to play along. "well, let's see what we can scrounge up," you say, scanning a sparse selection of canned goods and seaweed wraps. suhyeok's words still linger in your mind, and you can't help but wonder what he was going to say before he stopped himself.

suhyeok's eyes never leave yours as you pretend to focus on the food. but as soon as you're distracted, he slips away, his movements quiet and deliberate. you sense a purpose in his stride, and your curiosity is piqued. meanwhile, suhyeok seeks out daesu, wujin, and cheongsan, his expression serious as he whispers something in their ears. they exchange a concerned glance before nodding and following suhyeok upstairs.

the boys stand in a semi-circle around suhyeok, their eyes fixed on him with a mix of curiosity and concern. suhyeok slides the door closed, the sound of the wood gliding against the frame filling the tense silence. he then places his bat on the door, wedging it firmly in place to prevent any interruptions.

the boys wait with bated breath, their faces expectant. suhyeok hesitates, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for the right words. "okay. um, do you..." he trails off, his voice barely above a whisper. cheongsan takes a step forward, his brow furrowed in concern. "what is it? you said something's wrong?" he presses, his voice low and urgent.

suhyeok's eyes lock onto cheongsan's, and for a moment, he seems to be searching for a way to articulate his thoughts. suhyeok walks over to the window, his eyes fixed on something outside. "look!" he exclaims, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency. the boys gather around him, peering out the window. as they take in the sight, their expressions turn somber. the streets below are teeming with zombies, their numbers seemingly endless. suhyeok watches his friends' reactions, his eyes searching for any sign of understanding. "but there hasn't been any noise outside to attract them," suhyeok points out, his brow furrowed in concern. "isn't that weird?" he asks, but the others just stare at him blankly, waiting for him to make his point.

suhyeok's frustration grows, and he smacks his lips in annoyance. he walks away from the window, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something to help him explain. "last night, i went downstairs to the freezer to get something to drink," suhyeok begins, his words tumbling out in a rush. "that's when i heard banging, in the storage freezer inside. it was locked with a huge chain, and suddenly kyungho comes in and is telling me the thudding is random raccoons he couldn't get out of the store, so he locked them up." daesu tries to calm suhyeok down, placing a hand on his shoulder, but suhyeok shakes him off, his restlessness growing. "you guys don't get it," he says, his voice rising in desperation. "something's wrong with him."

suhyeok's words hang in the air, and the room falls silent. the boys exchange uneasy glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. "what are you talking about, suhyeok?" cheongsan asks, his voice calm and measured. "kyungho's been helping us out a lot. why would you think something's wrong with him?" suhyeok's eyes flash with frustration. "that's exactly what i'm saying," he says, his voice rising. "he's been too helpful. too perfect. and that story about the raccoons... it doesn't add up." wujin frowns, his brow furrowed in thought. "i don't know, suhyeok. maybe you're just being paranoid."

suhyeok's face twists in anger, but before he can respond, daesu intervenes. "hey, let's not jump to conclusions. suhyeok, can you tell us more about what happened last night? what exactly did kyungho say?" suhyeok takes a deep breath, his chest heaving with emotion. "he said... he said the raccoons were making the noise, and that he locked them up to keep them from getting out. but i know what i heard, and it wasn't raccoons."

suhyeok's words are laced with conviction, and the boys listen intently, their expressions thoughtful. wujin rubs his chin, his eyes narrowed in consideration. "i don't know, suhyeok," wujin says slowly. "it's possible that kyungho was telling the truth. maybe there were raccoons in the storage room." suhyeok shakes his head, his eyes flashing with frustration. "no, you didn't hear the noise," he says. "it was... it was something else. something that didn't sound right." cheongsan frowns, his brow furrowed in concern.

daesu's voice is gentle, but his words cut through the tension in the room. "suhyeok, maybe we should consider another possibility," he says, his eyes locked on suhyeok's. "maybe you're feeling a little... jealous." suhyeok's eyes narrow, his face twisting in denial. "what are you talking about?" he demands, his voice rising.

daesu's expression is calm, but his words are laced with a hint of insight. "kyungho's been paying a lot of attention to y/n, hasn't he?" he says, his eyes glancing in your direction. "maybe you're feeling a little left out, or worried that kyungho is getting too close to him." the room falls silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the boys. suhyeok's face is a mask of anger and denial, but he senses a flicker of truth in daesu's words. suhyeok's eyes narrow, his voice taking on a sharp edge. "what are you implying, daesu?" he demands, his words dripping with defensiveness. daesu holds up his hands, a calming gesture. "nothing, suhyeok, i'm just trying to understand what's going on," he says, his tone soothing.

but before daesu can continue, wujin chimes in, his voice laced with amusement. "i mean, suhyeok, come on man," he says, a hesitant grin spreading across his face. "you havent been making it exactly a secret. even kyungho called you out on it-" suhyeok's face goes beet red, his eyes flashing with embarrassment and anger. "shut your mouth," he growls, his voice menacing. "hey, let's not fight about this," cheongsan changes the subject and says. "we'll investigate and see if we can find any evidence to support suhyeok's claims." the boys nod in agreement, their expressions somber. suhyeok's eyes linger on kyungho's name, his mind racing with doubts and fears.

cheongsan clears his throat, his eyes scanning the room as he tries to steer the conversation back on track. "we need to come up with a plan to gather evidence. suhyeok, can you tell us more about what you heard in the storage room? any details might help."

suhyeok nods, his expression still tense, but his eyes locked on cheongsan's. "i heard banging, like something was trying to get out. and it was loud. i'm sure it wasn't just raccoons." cheongsan nods, his eyes lighting up with determination. "okay, that's a good starting point. daesu, can you check the room kyungho sleeps in and see if you can find any signs of what might have made that noise?" daesu nods, his face set in a serious expression. "i'll check it out. but what about kyungho? we can't just confront him without any evidence." cheongsan's eyes narrow, his mind racing with possibilities. "i'll think of something. for now, let's just focus on gathering as much information as we can. we'll meet back here in a few hours and compare."

no one else had been privy to the boys' plan to gather evidence against kyungho. it was a quiet, calculated effort, unfolding in the background while you and namra focused on something far more ordinary—preparing bibimyeon for everyone. the kitchen was filled with the rich aroma of spicy noodles, the tang of freshly poured orange juice cutting through the air. as you worked side by side, you couldn't help but glance at namra. her movements were precise, almost mechanical, but what caught your attention most was her complexion. there was a dullness to it, a lack of warmth that made you hesitate as you poured the juice into cups. after a brief internal debate, you decided to ask. “have you eaten?” your voice was softer than usual, laced with an uncertainty you weren’t used to feeling.

namra stilled, her hands pausing over the food as she turned her gaze toward you. her expression was unreadable, her silence stretching a second too long before she finally responded. “why?” it wasn’t the answer you were hoping for. you let out a quiet breath, forcing a small smile as you tried to lighten the moment. “the class president should know you could never answer a question with a question.” but she didn’t smile back. not even a flicker of amusement crossed her face. instead, she just stared at you, her unreadable expression now unnerving. a small pit of unease settled in your stomach. something was wrong.

you swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of how quiet the room had become. the distant chatter from the others in the next room felt muffled, as if you and namra were sealed off in your own tense little world. “namra…” you tried again, keeping your tone light despite the way your fingers tightened around the juice carton. “i’m just asking because—well, you don’t look so great.”

her gaze flickered slightly, something unreadable flashing in her eyes before she turned back to the pot of noodles. “i’m fine.” but you weren’t convinced. namra was always reserved, always composed, but this was different. her stillness felt heavier, her voice void of the usual quiet authority she carried as class president. you studied her for a moment, taking in the way her skin lacked its usual glow, how her hands lingered over the food without actually doing anything and your stomach twisted.

“you should eat,” you urged, nudging a bowl toward her. “you’ve been helping everyone else, but when’s the last time you had something yourself?” she exhaled slowly, the slightest hint of frustration—no, restraint—edging her breath. finally, she lifted her eyes to yours, and for the first time, you saw it. hunger, but not the kind that a bowl of bibimyeon could fix. your fingers twitched, a deep instinctual fear stirring inside you as your mind pieced together what your heart already knew. namra wasn't just tired. she wasn’t just skipping meals. she was fighting something—something bigger, something darker and you weren’t sure if she was winning.

you weren’t sure how to help her. in fact, you weren’t even sure if help was what she needed.

your eyes flickered to the shelves lining the small convenience store, scanning the rows of neatly stacked ramen cups, bags of chips, and rows of neatly lined drinks in the fridge. under any other circumstance, you might’ve joked about how you could practically live off the place—but now, every brightly colored package looked useless. meaningless. nothing in here could satisfy her, not in the way she needed. you stole another glance at namra. she was unnervingly still, her fingers curled slightly on the edge of the counter as if she were bracing herself. her eyes were downcast, but you didn’t miss the way her shoulders tensed when you shifted closer. “namra…” you tried again, softer this time. she inhaled sharply through her nose, like she was forcing herself to breathe, like she was grounding herself in something—anything—that would keep her tethered to who she was.

finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “you should go.” the words were simple. direct. but they hit you like a punch to the gut. go? leave her here like this? when she was clearly struggling? “i’m not leaving you,” you said, the words coming out firmer than you expected. “not when you—”

“please.” that stopped you cold. namra never begged. not for anything. not even now, when her entire body was trembling with restraint. you took a slow step back, hands clenching into fists at your sides. you didn’t want to leave, not when she looked like she was barely holding herself together. but something in her voice—something raw, almost desperate—told you that staying might make things worse.

your heart pounded against your ribs, the weight of namra’s words pressing down on you like a vice. she wasn’t just asking you to leave—she was warning you. you opened your mouth, ready to protest, to tell her that she didn’t have to go through this alone, but then she lifted her gaze.

they held something feral, something barely contained beneath the surface, like a predator trying to convince itself not to strike. the flickering fluorescent light above only made it worse, casting sharp shadows across her face, accentuating the tension in her jaw, the tight grip she had on the counter. your instincts screamed at you to move, to put distance between you and whatever hunger was gnawing away at her from the inside. but another part of you, the part that still saw namra—the class president, the quiet but dependable friend—refused to take that step.

“namra,” you tried again, your voice gentler now, careful. “i know you’re scared.” her expression didn’t change, but you saw the way her fingers twitched, like she wanted to reach for something—maybe for you, maybe for anything that would remind her she wasn’t just whatever this was turning her into.

“but you don’t have to do this alone,” you continued, even as a lump formed in your throat. “i won’t leave you.” her breath hitched, and for a moment, just a brief flicker of a second, you saw her—really saw her. namra, not whatever was threatening to take over. but then she squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, the moment was gone. “you don’t understand,” she whispered. “i don’t know how much longer i can control it.” her fingers curled tighter around the counter, her knuckles going white. “if you stay…” she swallowed hard, looking at you like she already regretted what she was about to say. “i might not be able to stop myself.” a cold chill settled over you. this was no longer just about hunger, this was about survival. hers and yours. you hesitated, searching namra’s face for any sign that she might change her mind, but her expression was set. determined. and more than anything—afraid. so, despite every instinct telling you to stay, you did as she asked.

you gathered the remaining food onto a tray, your movements slower than necessary, hoping she would stop you, that she would say she didn’t want to be alone after all. but she didn’t. without another word, you turned away, carrying the food to the other aisle where everyone was gathered. the moment you stepped in, the atmosphere shifted—lighter, more normal, as if the weight of what was happening to namra didn’t exist beyond the space she occupied. you glanced around, a frown tugging at your lips. “where are daesu and wujin?” before anyone could answer, you caught movement from the corner of your eye—namra, rushing up the stairs without a word. your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to look away, knowing she needed space.

onjo, noticing your concern, placed a gentle hand on your arm. “they’re waiting for the shower,” she explained, her voice soft. “suhyeok’s in there right now.” you exhaled through your nose, nodding along with a sigh. at least they were safe. for now. pushing away your unease, you sank down beside onjo and horyeong, setting the food between you. “thank you for this,” onjo said with a small smile, already reaching for a bowl. horyeong nodded in agreement, chopsticks in hand as she dug in. “seriously, this is good.” you chuckled lightly, the warmth of their appreciation cutting through the lingering tension in your chest. it felt normal—at least for a moment. but as you sat there, watching everyone eat, you couldn’t shake the image of namra, standing alone in the dim light of the convenience store, her hands gripping the counter like she was holding on for dear life. deep down, you wondered, how much longer could she fight this? and when the time came… would she be able to win?

as you stirred your noodles absentmindedly, still lost in your thoughts about namra, mijin’s voice cut through the quiet hum of conversation. “i think wujin is starting to like me more and more,” she said casually, picking at her food with an air of confidence. “must be because of how much of a mentor i am to the underclassmen.” you scoffed before you could stop yourself, barely holding back a smirk.

the sudden shift in topic was so jarring that you couldn’t help but react. mijin, of course, was quick to notice. she narrowed her eyes at you, chopsticks pausing mid-air. “something funny?”

“nothing, nothing,” you said, lifting a hand in surrender, but the grin pulling at your lips betrayed you. “yeah, sure,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “laugh all you want, but it’s true! he’s always following me around, asking me things, looking at me like I’m some kind of wise, older role model.” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “i don’t blame him. it must be hard being so impressed by someone like me.” onjo giggled beside you, while horyeong just shook her head, amused but unsurprised by mijin’s antics. you let out a chuckle, finally looking down at your bowl of bibimyeon. “you should tell him that. see how he reacts.”

mijin smirked. “maybe i will.” before you could fire back, footsteps echoed from upstairs. you straightened slightly, glancing toward the staircase, waiting for everyone to come down before taking your first bite. for now, this moment of laughter and normalcy was enough to hold onto. but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t last.

cheongsan and suhyeok finally made their way down the stairs, both looking noticeably refreshed, their damp hair clinging slightly to their foreheads. their change of clothes and relaxed postures made it obvious they had just showered. you smiled at cheongsan instinctively, expecting at least a small nod or some acknowledgment in return. instead, he barely glanced your way before looking off to the side and settling himself on the other side of onjo without a word. your smile faltered as your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. what was that about?

before you could dwell on it too much, horyeong spoke up. “will hari be coming down soon?” cheongsan barely looked up from his food. “she went to nap,” he said simply. “not sure how long she’ll be out.” his voice was casual, but there was something about the way he spoke, how he stole a quick glance at you before focusing intently on his bowl, that made something stir in your chest. he was avoiding you. deliberately. you opened your mouth to say something, to maybe call him out on it, but then your eyes flickered around the room, and you realized someone else was missing. kyungho. your gaze swept over the group, but he was nowhere in sight. “where did kyungho head off to?” you asked, standing up as you continued scanning the room. no one answered right away. maybe they hadn’t noticed. or maybe they just didn’t care enough to. either way, you didn’t wait around.

“i’ll go find him,” you added, more to yourself than anyone else, before heading off. as you walked away, you missed the way horyeong smirked, leaning slightly toward onjo. “look at them,” she whispered slyly. “worried about kyungho now, huh?” onjo only hummed in response, her expression unreadable as she watched you disappear down the next aisle.

as you disappeared down the aisle in search of kyungho, you remained completely unaware of the quiet tension settling between cheongsan and suhyeok. cheongsan cast a cautious glance toward his friend, subtle but deliberate, as if gauging his reaction to you getting up to look for kyungho. it was quick—barely a second—but suhyeok caught it. suhyeok, who had been eating steadily, slowed his chewing ever so slightly. his eyes, sharp with quiet observation, narrowed just a bit as he focused on his food, saying nothing. instead, he took another bite, chewing slowly, allowing the silence to stretch. he didn’t need to say anything right now—because eventually, cheongsan would.

you weaved through the aisles, eyes scanning the dimly lit corners of the store. your footsteps were light against the tiled floor, the faint hum of the refrigeration units filling the quiet. just as you were about to check another section, you spotted him.

kyungho stood near the window, carefully pouring water from a small plastic bottle onto one of the tiny plants you had noticed with namra the first day you entered the store. the sight made you pause, a soft smile tugging at your lips. he hadn’t noticed you yet—or at least, you thought he hadn’t. you stepped forward. “came to look for me?” you blinked. he still hadn’t turned around. “how did you…” you began, slightly thrown off by his awareness. he straightened his posture, capping the bottle as he finally tilted his head slightly in your direction. “just the way you walk.” his words sent a strange sense of déjà vu washing over you. the familiarity of this exchange, the way he answered so simply yet knowingly, made something in your chest tighten—but you couldn’t dwell on it.

shaking off the thought, you crossed your arms. “the food’s ready whenever you are,” you told him. kyungho gave a slow nod, his gaze still lingering on the plant before he finally turned to face you fully. “alright,” he said. “i’ll be there in a bit.” you studied him for a moment. there was something calmer about him now, more at ease than when you had first arrived at the store. maybe it was the small routine he had developed here, or maybe—just maybe—it was the simple act of keeping something alive, even when everything else around you felt like it was falling apart.

you exhaled quietly, deciding not to push further. “don’t take too long,” you said, offering him one last glance before turning back toward the others. as you walked away, you could feel his eyes lingering on your back, but you didn’t look back.

as you made your way back to the others, you couldn’t shake the feeling of kyungho’s gaze still lingering on you. it wasn’t unsettling—just… curious. thoughtful, maybe. but you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the faint hum of conversation as you approached the group.

cheongsan and suhyeok were still eating, though you noticed how cheongsan barely looked up as you sat back down in your spot next to onjo and horyeong.

“find him?” onjo asked, glancing at you between bites. you nodded. “yeah, he was by the plants. he said he’ll come in a bit.” horyeong hummed, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “worried about him, huh?” you rolled your eyes, reaching for your bowl. “i was just making sure everyone eats.” she snickered but let it go, turning back to her food. as the group continued eating, you stole a glance at cheongsan. he was still avoiding eye contact, his expression unreadable as he focused on his bowl. but now, with kyungho being brought up, you noticed the way his grip on his chopsticks tightened just slightly, a small but noticeable shift.

suhyeok noticed too. his eyes flickered between you and cheongsan, lips pressing into a thin line. but, just like before, he said nothing. the atmosphere wasn’t tense, not exactly, but there was something lingering beneath the surface, something unspoken that none of you seemed ready to address. and yet, as the minutes passed, the conversation carried on, laughter bubbling up here and there, momentarily pushing away the weight of everything unspoken. for now, that was enough.

[clematiss45]

DETENTION - GWINAM

pairing: yoon gwi nam x top male reader

synopsis: The real infection here is horniness pt.4 ( i am running out of caption ideas pls help me)

content warnings: 18+, semi-public sex (?), no apocalypse AU, dry humping, anal, reader is the school president

word count: 1.3k

The school hallways were mostly empty, save for the occasional echo of a rushed student or the muffled chatter from classrooms. But near the lockers, that peace was utterly destroyed by none other than Yoon Gwi-nam and his pack of glorified background characters—Jae-ho and Min-jae.

They had some poor kid cornered, Gwi-nam’s voice full of that cocky, drawling amusement as he pushed his victim up against the metal, making some smartass remark that had his minions laughing on cue.

You weren’t having it.

“Hey,” your voice cut through the noise, sharp and demanding, making all three freeze like deer caught in headlights.

Gwi-nam turned, eyes narrowing when he saw you. His posture didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—annoyance, maybe? Resentment? Or just the instinctive urge to challenge anyone who thought they could talk down to him?

“What?” he drawled, turning slightly to face you, shoulders loose, cocky smirk already forming. “School president’s got somethin’ to say? Gonna give me a lecture?”

You exhaled slowly, stepping forward until you were right in front of him. He didn’t back up. Neither did you.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, voice steady. “What, picking on people makes you feel big?”

Gwi-nam’s expression twitched, but he didn’t lose that arrogant smirk. “Yeah, actually,” he said, tilting his head. “What, you wanna try it? Bet it’d look real funny seeing you act all tough.”

Jae-ho and Min-jae chuckled behind him, but you ignored them completely, eyes locked onto Gwi-nam’s.

You sighed, then—fast as a whip—grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the lockers. The metal rattled loudly, echoing down the hallway. Jae-ho and Min-jae immediately shut up, wide-eyed, but didn’t make a move to help their so-called leader.

Gwi-nam let out a sharp grunt, hands instinctively coming up to shove you away, but you were stronger than he expected. Your grip stayed firm, forearm pressing against his chest. His breath hitched for half a second—not in fear, but surprise. He hadn’t thought you had it in you.

You leaned in, dropping your voice. "You’re all talk, aren’t you?" Your breath was warm against his ear. "But I know what kind of guy you really are."

Gwi-nam tensed. "The hell’s that supposed to mean?" he hissed, voice just barely steady.

"You act tough, but the second someone stands up to you, you fold." You smirked, pressing him harder against the lockers. "Like right now."

His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, but he didn’t have a comeback. His hands curled into fists, gripping the fabric of your blazer, but he didn’t push you off.

“Apologize,” you said.

Gwi-nam scoffed. “The fuck?”

You yanked his head back by his hair. His breath hitched audibly this time, neck arching slightly. His hands twitched where they gripped your blazer.

"Say. You’re. Sorry," you repeated, slow and firm.

For the first time, Gwi-nam hesitated. His pride and instincts were at war. He hated this—hated being told what to do, hated how you weren’t scared of him. And yet, his body wasn’t moving away.

Jae-ho and Min-jae looked so uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly like they didn’t know whether to intervene or run.

“Alright, fine,” Gwi-nam bit out, voice tight. His teeth were clenched like the words physically pained him. “I’m fucking sorry. Happy now, boss?"

You let out a soft hum, tilting your head as you let go of his hair. "See? That wasn’t so hard."

His glare was deadly, but he didn’t fight it.

You turned to the kid he’d been bullying. “Go,” you said. “You’re good.”

The kid didn’t need to be told twice. He practically bolted, sparing one last glance at Gwi-nam, then disappearing around the corner.

Min-jae awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll—uh—catch up with you later, man.”

Jae-ho gave Gwi-nam a look before mumbling something under his breath and following Min-jae down the hall, leaving the two of you alone.

The silence was heavy.

Gwi-nam rolled his jaw, flexing his hands before glaring at you. “Hope you feel real fucking proud of yourself,” he muttered.

You gave him a once-over, then grabbed his wrist.

“Hey—?!” He barely had time to react before you dragged him down the hall, pushing open the door to an empty classroom and shoving him inside.

The second the door clicked shut, he whirled on you. “What the hell is your prob—”

You had him against the wall before he could finish.

This time, the silence was different.

Gwi-nam’s breath was uneven, his head tilted back slightly against the wall as you crowded into his space. The tension was thick—but not the kind of tension that led to a fight. Not anymore.

You could see it in the way his lips parted slightly, the way his pupils had dilated just a little. He liked this—he just didn’t want to admit it.

"You like being put in your place, don’t you?" you murmured, watching the way his throat bobbed.

His jaw clenched. "Fuck off."

But he wasn’t pushing you away.

You tilted your head. “Then why aren’t you stopping me?”

He sucked in a breath, but still—no answer.

Your smirk widened. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

And then you kissed him.

It was rough. You weren’t giving him a choice, and he wasn’t taking one. His mouth opened under yours before he could think better of it, teeth clashing, breath uneven.

It was sloppy—desperate, hot, full of the kind of tension that had been bubbling beneath the surface for months. His hands finally moved, gripping at your shirt, tugging you closer.

He growled against your mouth when you bit down on his lower lip, yanking at his hair again. His hips twitched forward before he could stop himself.

“Shit,” he mumbled, half against your lips, half under his breath.

You grinned. "You like this."

He didn’t answer.

But the way his breath came faster, the way his hips kept shifting ever so slightly against yours—yeah. You knew.

You ran a hand down his chest, slipping under the hem of his shirt just slightly. His skin was hot, muscles tensing under your touch.

His eyes fluttered shut for half a second—just long enough for you to grind against him, making him gasp.

"Fuck," he hissed, grip tightening on your clothes.

You chuckled against his lips, slow and deliberate as you rolled your hips against his again. He was panting now, forehead resting against yours, trying to keep himself together.

"Still wanna act all tough?" you murmured, dragging your lips down his jaw, then his neck.

His response was a low, strangled noise—half a growl, half a groan—as his fingers dug into your back.

—

Gwi-nam was a wreck.

His breath hitched, his fingers grasping at your blazer like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His usual arrogance, his defiance—it was gone. All that remained was the mess you’d turned him into, his body betraying him in ways he’d never let anyone else see.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, your voice slow, teasing. "You think you’re tough now, huh?"

A choked noise left his throat—something between a whimper and a groan.

You rolled your hips again, drawing another desperate noise from him, and smirked. "I thought you wanted it rough, love. Can’t you take it?"

Gwi-nam’s grip tightened—not in control, but in surrender. His forehead thumped against your shoulder, his breathing ragged, his body reacting to the way your cock slipped in and out of his hole, hitting his sweet spot with almost every thrust.

"Shit, shit, shit—" His voice was nothing but a broken murmur now, his pride shattered under your hands.

You chuckled, enjoying this—enjoying him like this. "That’s what I thought."

And just when things were reaching their peak—when he was fully lost in you, when the only sounds in the room were his breathy moans and the way you were wrecking him—

click.

The door unlocked.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

The handle twitched like someone was testing it—but then, after a second, they hesitated.

You swore you heard a muttered, "Nope. Not dealing with that."

And then, silence.

You exhaled a laugh, barely even phased. "Guess they know better than to interrupt."

Gwi-nam groaned, burying his burning face into your shoulder. "Shut up."

You just smirked. "Make me."

This was going to be a long fucking day.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[clematiss45]

SU HEOK P LINKSS

Su Hyeok twitter links

looking up at him while sucking him

after school fucking

fingering you

back shots

first time with him

going slowly so he can see it go in and out

teasing him after school

theres always time for a boob job

[clematiss45]

I'm probably blind and couldn't find the rules so sorry if I mess up!

anyways, can you do a smau for main characters of aouad?? or you can just do your favs if it's too much! :)

I don't really have a specific idea, I just need more aouad stuff so maybe idk reader randomly sending a silly photo of them with no context or maybe one of those 'tiktok trends' like "can I tie a bow around your wrist?" yk, silly stuff. if you have another idea that you'd rather do than I'd take that too!!

have a good day/night<3

All of us are dead main characters when: you say "can I tie a bow around your wrist?" ──★˙🍓̟!!

SMAU (social media au - texts)

gender neutral!reader

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 warnings: nothing just fluff!

note: hey anon <3 I love love love you sm for requesting all of us are dead! and no you're not blind! I don't have a rules page just yet, only whats on my pinned. I def will make one soon though! I hope you enjoy this!

★ Cheongsan

★ Suhyeok

★ Gwinam

★ Onjo

★ Namra

★ Gyeongsu

★ Nayeon

★ Mijin

★ Hari

[clematiss45]

Your boyfriend gets jealous of you hanging out with your friends.

🫧 Pairing: Baekjin X Fem!Reader

🫧 Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, Dom!Baekjin, impact play(?), strength kink(very light), Baekjin is a little sensitive, degradation (whore).

does not follow the drama's storyline, so all the characters are of legal age. Minors DNI

🫧 A/N: This was a request, so I hope you like it. <3 English isn't my first language

You had just come back from an afternoon with your friends: Baku, Gotak, Sieun and Juntae. Your boyfriend, Baekjin, had already shown how uncomfortable he felt about you hanging out with them, but they were just your friends, and you were already friends with them before you met your boyfriend. You had nothing to do with Baku and Baekjin's fights.

He always asked you to hang out with him and his henchmen, but you thought they were idiots and preferred to stay with your friends. You didn't hang out with them as often after Baekjin told you he didn't like them. But that wouldn't make you completely distance yourself from your friends.

You were on your way to the bowling alley where Baekjin spent half of his time. He had called asking you to come to his office. You go downstairs, seeing several young people gambling, smoking and drinking; you see some guys from the Union and go straight to your boyfriend's office.

You stop at the door, knocking and waiting for his answer. When you hear his muffled voice, you go in and close the door right away.  You see Baekjin studying, staring at the papers as he writes. Your body walks towards his desk, stopping in front of it; the boy continues writing without even threatening to look at you. He puts down his pen, touches his cell phone, sees the time it took him to solve the problem, stops the timer and looks at you for the first time that night. His beautiful, drawn eyes look at you firmly and perhaps a little angry, different from the normal look he always gives you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to understand his look. He doesn’t answer, just stares at you. And that’s when it hits you: he’s jealous. He knows you were with Baku and his friends.

“Look, I’m sorry! I know you don’t like this, but my friends are important to me too!” You try to make his anger subside, but he just turns his head, giving you a sideways, ironic smile, before looking back at you. He stands up and stops in front of you with his face close to yours.

"No need to be jealous. They're just my friends..." Before you can finish speaking, he grabs your neck, pushing you against the wall; without letting go of your neck, he presses his body against yours.

"I don't care if they're your friends; I'm your boyfriend and I don't like you going out with them!" He squeezes your neck and you feel the air leaving your lungs. And you're not lying when you say you're loving it.

Your eyes close, feeling your panties get wet. He lets go of your neck, slapping the side of your face; not too hard, but enough to turn your face to the side.

"Look at me when I talk to you!" He grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. "Isn't one man enough for you? Do you need five to satisfy yourself?" He mocks, spitting mean words in your face. You whimper, trying to speak. He lets go of your cheek, holding your neck again, but without squeezing.

"I just need you..." Your voice is low.

"That's good to know" He smiles, caressing her face "So next time, obey me when I say you won't go out with those guys." He slaps your face again.

Baekjin slips his hands under your skirt, easily ripping your panties. You jump in fright and he doesn't even give you time to recover before pulling the fabric of your shirt, making the buttons pop off.

He pulls down his pants, grabbing your legs and making them intertwine around his waist, lifting you off the ground with ease. He thrusts his already hard cock into your wet pussy, you gasp at the sudden stretch, feeling it burn, since he hadn't prepared you. He doesn't wait and starts moving, you grip his shoulders tightly.

Your boyfriend wasn't usually rough in sex, he was calm and delicate, always caressing you and touching you as if you were going to break, but you loved it when he fucked you hard like that.

You see him looking at where you're connected, opening his mouth a little in a silent moan. You know he's sensitive and especially when he's inside you, and you know he's holding back as much as he can.  He comes out of his trance and holds your legs tighter, before moving with even more force, you moan and close your eyes, he lets go of one of your legs, grabbing your face and squeezing it, you open your eyes.

"Look at me" He says firmly "You're already so sensitive that you can't even keep your eyes open." He mocks again. The hand that was on your face goes down to the middle of your legs, rubbing your sensitive bud, you get closer to his face trying to kiss his lips, but he pulls away smiling.

"I don't kiss whores" He pulls your bra down, staring at your breasts. You whimper, squeezing yourself around him, feeling your orgasm approaching, but he stops, taking you off the wall, going towards the table, dropping everything you had on it, and laying you down, moving quickly again, he grabs your breast, squeezing it. He moans softly, looking back at your pussy that grips his cock tightly.  He speeds up, you feel his cock twitching inside you and you feel your orgasm approaching again, he starts rubbing your clit, you tremble and scream his name, when you reach your climax. You feel the warm sperm inside you and Baekjin lies on top of you, breathing heavily in your ear, before speaking.

"I expect you to obey me from now on."

[clematiss45]

☁️Pairing: Gotak X Fem!Reader

☁️Warnings: Unprotected sex, Dom!Gotak, Degradation, hair pulling, Gotak fucks you by giving you an armlock, Doggy Style.

does not follow the drama's storyline, so all the characters are of legal age. Minors DNI

☁️A/N: This was the work of a late-night daydream. I don't understand taekwondo, so forgive me if I got something wrong. English isn't my first language.

Your mother teaches taekwondo, mainly to young people. Some of your classmates trained with her. Sometimes, you helped her with the training and the Dojang. You knew how to fight a little, but it wasn't anything serious. Even though your mother wanted you to fight and even win some competitions, you always said no, and because of that, she was always talking about the best fighters: the champions who led the Dojang to several championship victories.

MinSik, the best fighter, strong and dedicated, who had been fighting taekwondo since he was a child, was a good and kind boy. You didn't know him very well, but you had spoken to him a few times. Your mother loved him, always saying that he would be a great boyfriend for you, but you always avoided the subject.

JiWoo was right and loyal, taking victory to the Dojang in a calculated way. She was serious and shy, but in combat she was someone completely different. And finally, HyunTak: he was violent and impulsive, he had no patience for anything, but he always won. He was strong, and certainly stronger than MinSik, but his impulsiveness got in his way. Your mother didn't like him; she thought he was too violent for taekwondo and always told you that fighting wasn't for him. Because even though he was one of the best fighters, he didn't follow the philosophy of fighting.

She always told you to stay away from him, especially after she found out that you studied together and saw you talking at the Dojang after training. She said she didn't want you involved with HyunTak, but little did she know that the forbidden is the hottest.

Your mother was downstairs making dinner and you were in your room studying, but that was before HyunTak came in through your bedroom window.

And now, you grab the sheets beneath you as HyunTak fucks you on doggy style. Your body moves with the rhythm of his hips hitting yours. He grabs your ass hard, sometimes lightly slapping your skin, sometimes stroking your waist. You had to stay silent, your mother could never know that you were having sex with HyunTak. You try your best, but when his dick presses a sensitive spot inside you, your eyes roll back and you open your mouth in an almost silent sigh. You grab your pillow and hug it, letting your head pressed into the fabric, trying to muffle your moans. You squeeze his dick, and he lets out a loud grunt, your eyes widen, stretching your hand back towards him, trying to keep him quiet.

"Gotak..." You sigh "Be quiet, please" He kisses the palm of your hand, slapping it right after. After you take your hand away from him, you look down and see the fluids coming out of your pussy and his dick dripping onto the mattress, your pussy contracts, you find this exciting. Gotak runs his hand along both of your backs, reaching your hair, arranging it gently on your back, before grabbing you tightly and pulling your body to his chest. You grab the hand that pulls your hair, trying to loosen his grip, but he violently pulls your hands away. He wraps his arm around your neck, squeezing it lightly, letting go of your hair and going back to fucking you hard.

"Don't you want your mother to find out that her exemplary daughter is being fucked by her worst student?" He whispers in your ear.

"Hmmph" You deny with a trembling voice "She'll be upset with me."

"And you don't want to leave your disappointed mother alone, do you?" He mocks "And if she finds out, will you stop begging for my cock?"

"N-no" Your eyes tremble when you feel his tip hit that spot again.

"No?" He asks amused "You're a little bitch for my cock, aren't you? You love it when I fuck you, Hm?"

"Y-yes, Gotak, I l-love your cock!" You feel your climax approaching, and you don’t even care about the noise you’re making anymore.

Gotak realizes you’re close and tightens his arm around your neck, you get dizzy and feel your orgasm coming on stronger. He puts his hand on your pussy, rubbing your clit firmly. You squeeze his cock, writhing and rolling your eyes, and everything intensifies due to the lack of air. You feel him cumming in your pussy, the jets of sperm making you warm. Hyuntak moans and curses close to your ear, taking his arm off your neck and pulling your face for a needy kiss. He lays you down and lies on top of your body, not taking his cock out of you. You breathe deeply as you try to compose yourselves, and you’re almost dozing off when you hear loud knocks on your bedroom door.

"Daughter, what’s going on there?!"