rainsoughtflowers

[rainsoughtflowers]

a/n: been wanting to write for him but my thing is fluff, it’s my forte (if I’m allowed to say that) I think he would be softer towards his partner, this is just him messing (joking) around with them

geum seongje x gn!reader | 962 wc | no major warnings, seongje is an ass (affectionate) probably ooc (sorry)

Seongje gradually starts to notice a habit of yours. It wasn’t subtle, not one bit. Rather, it was odd if you didn’t do it. 

When you would greet him, with the usual hello, a question about how his day was going so far, and a kiss, right under his eye. He should have known beforehand; his mother had told him the small mole under his eye was his charming point. A place she’d kissed before he went to bed as a kid, now the place you seemed to be drawn to. 

He tries to avoid it for a bit, just to see what you’d do. 

He’d placed a band-aid over it first, groaning loudly when you’d asked him what happened, nearly dropping his facade to laugh at the pout that formed on your lips when you realized where he’d gotten hurt. 

You’d kissed his cheek instead. Seongje wasn’t satisfied with your reaction. 

The next time you see him is at his house. His mother lets you in, going on and on about how her poor son was so tired that he fell asleep waiting for you. You knew he was bullshitting, he’d stayed up for twenty-four hours playing a stupid game with his friends.

When you walk into his room, Seongje almost laughs at the frustrated sigh you huff out, listening to your mumbling about his sleeping position.

On his side, cheek squished into his pillow, blocking your favorite place to kiss. You could tilt his face, but Seongje was a light sleeper, and you’d rather let him rest than satisfy your selfish wants even if he was faking it.

“Damn asshole,” You whisper, he can feel your breath fanning against his mouth. “I bet you’re doing this on purpose.” 

You kiss the corner of his mouth, he fights the upturn of his lips, cracking an eye open tiredly to look at you. “Yah, what a creep. Kissing me while I sleep.” 

The next time he tries to dodge it, he makes the wrong move. 

You find him leaning against a wall just outside the bowling alley, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips before he takes it out and flicks it away.

As you step closer, you note that there’s no obstructions to the skin under his eye. But now, as you stand in front of him, the mole is nowhere in sight. 

You call him out on it, pointing under your eye repeatedly. “What? I got it removed.” When you just blink at him, he waves his hand in front of your face, snapping his fingers when you don’t utter a single word for two minutes. 

But when your hand reaches up to his face, thumb brushing delicately across the skin under his eye, Seongje realizes two things. 

One, he’s been caught. Judging from the way your eyes widen slightly and drift to your thumb, he’s sure you’d wiped the makeup clean off. 

And two, how much you actually love to kiss that spot. 

He grunts when you pull his head towards you, sputtering when you pepper kisses on and around the mole, probably feeling how warm his cheeks have gotten. 

His hands find your shoulders, gently pushing you back until you're off of him. His hair tousled and cheeks burning, and his ears red at the tips. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“Do you know how long I’ve been trying to kiss you there?” You snap, slapping his shoulder lightly. “You asshole, you think I didn’t see what you were doing?” 

“It only took you until the third time to get what you wanted, right?” He huffs, fixing his hair while quietly cursing. 

You watch him quietly, the movement of his lips as he mumbles about his appearance, the twitch of his brow when his hair gets caught in his glasses. “If you wanted me to stop, you could’ve asked, Seongje.”

He pauses his movements, jutting his lips out with a shake of his head. “No, I was just messing with you.” He digs into his pocket, pulling out his box of cigarettes and taking one out. Not lighting it, just keeping it between his teeth. (Seongje refuses to smoke near you.) “Do what you want.” 

After his words, you hadn't moved an inch. Seongje raises a brow at your sudden silence, fingers brushing against your hand to get your attention. “What? What’s wrong with you?”

He doesn’t move when your hand reaches up to his face, doesn’t protest when you take the cigarette from his lips and bring him closer, and doesn’t pull away when you inevitably press your lips against his. Slowly, deliberately, your tongue swipes lightly against his bottom lip, but Seongje keeps his mouth shut and slotted against yours. With a tilt of his head, it deepens instantly, his hand creeping up to rest against the nape of your neck, pushing you closer until your skin burns against his.

A noise slips past when you pull apart, but it's undecipherable as to who let it out. His lips are puffy, a faint shine from your earlier swipe of tongue. He looks dazed as he lets his head fall back against the wall, a satisfied grin coming to his face despite the burn of his cheeks and ears. 

“You could’ve been kissing me like that this whole time but you’re so infatuated with the damn mole under my eye? You’re unbelievable.” 

He laughs when you scoff, watching as your hand rests on his shoulder, seemingly keeping him in place as you press yet another kiss to your favorite spot. “If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll kill you.” 

Seongje doesn’t do it again— immediately, at least. He likes to mess with you.

You let him.

[rainsoughtflowers]

lifesaver

tw/cw - brief mentions of ptsd and bullying.

a/n - finally some development between the cuties

pairing - kang woo-young x reader

you exit the room with a slight limp in your steps, directing your body towards the nearest bathroom. if you remember correctly, there should be one around the corner, and it shouldn't be too busy at this hour now that lunch is nearing the end. perfect for avoiding any unnecessary attention.

as you round the corner, however, your footsteps automatically slow, until you come to a complete stop. because several paces down the hall, walking in your direction, is kang woo-young.

this is the first time you're seeing him since confirming your current partnership. not because you've been avoiding him, but simply because you and the boy don't frequent the same areas in the school. you're in different classes, in different activities, and it's not like you go out seeking his presence. not unless necessary, and that usually takes place outside of school.

so to run into him so suddenly, purely out of chance, startles you so intensely you don't know what to do with yourself. where to look. how to act.

his eyes easily find your own, and while he looks just as surprised to see you there, that's all it is. he doesn't stop walking. doesn't say anything. he just stares at you, indifferent, bored, as unreadable as he always is.

your initial instinct is to pretend to not to know him. you'd prefer to keep your relationship strictly transactional after all. there's no need to hang out for any reason other than to work towards your revenge. you guys aren't friends after all. and it's better that way. if you keep him at arms length, you won't be disappointed when he eventually leaves.

but kang woo-young must have other plans. for when you brush past him, continuing down the hall, he stops, angles his body towards you, and calls out your name.

you halt all movements, hesitating for a moment before slowly turning around. woo-young studies you for a moment, his expression even more indecipherable than several seconds prior, before shifting his attention to an unknown point over your shoulder. then he glances down, eyeing the fresh bruises on your legs, your soaked clothes.

understanding dawns upon his eyes, like he finally put the pieces together, like he knows exactly what just transpired. why the smell of milk lingers on your clothes. why you wince with every step you take. it widens his eyes and parts his lips, subtly enough to miss if you aren't paying attention, but you notice it.

and the fact that he knows, the fact that he was able to figure it out so quickly, makes your chest feel heavy with discomfort.

everyone else does a good job of ignoring it. why can't you?

"do you need something?" you ask, your impatient tone causing him to glance up.

woo-young tilts his head towards the side ever so slightly, considering, then glances back down to your blazer, "aren't you hot?"

the sudden switch in conversation catches you off guard, enough to make you fumble for a response, "what?"

"your uniform," he clarifies, gesturing vaguely towards the article of clothing with a nod of his head, "it's summer, but you're wearing the winter uniform. isn't that uncomfortable?"

you blink, not registering his question until several seconds later, when they have long since sunk beneath your skin. you glance down, staring at the brown blazer covering your frame, the long, thick socks pulled up to your knees, the sweater vest peeking out from beneath the buttons.

while the fact that you wear the winter uniform makes you stick out like a sore thumb, no one acknowledges it, let alone questions it. they've probably presumed that you're self conscious, or maybe your body just runs cold, and you prefer this uniform over the summer one. not because your scars and bruises would be visible with the short sleeves and short socks required of the other outfit.

at the reminder as to the reason behind your preference of clothing, you start to grow restless. your burns start to feel itchy, even though they aren't fresh, the sensation spread throughout different parts of your body. to quell it, you curl your fingers around your wrist, briefly fluttering your eyes shut to focus on something else.

for some reason, kang woo-young doesn't press the issue any further, despite you being almost positive that he noticed your discomfort.

"catch."

the sudden shift in conversation once more makes you snap your eyes back open, finding the boy reaching into his pocket to reveal a carton of milk. his previous word is all the warning you get before it's flung in your direction, forcing you to focus on catching it between both palms of your hands. sure enough, when you lower it from where it landed against your chest, an unopened container of banana milk rests in your hands.

despite what occurred in the storage room, the sight of it doesn't fill you with a sense of fear. hesitantly, you curl your fingers around it, feeling the cold substance seep through the plastic.

a lump forms in your throat, clogging it with an emotion you can't name. you swallow hard to find your voice, "why are you giving me this?"

woo-young shrugs, "you like banana milk, right? i had an extra one. if you don't want it then throw it away."

you glance back up, staring at him carefully, noting how unbothered he looks, bored even. it's not the first time he's noticed a detail and pointed it out. what confuses you the most is why. why take notice when it's easier to just pretend that you don't exist? why catch sight of these characteristics and file them away in his head for later use?

you feel something strange form within your chest, filling the space between your ribs. it feels oddly similar to the feeling one gets when drinking something hot. a warmth? but the soft kind. the one that doesn't burn. that doesn't bring pain.

you don't thank woo-young, but he doesn't seem to expect any gratitude either. you just stare at each other for another moment, something unspoken passing through the air, until it's interrupted by you turning to leave, woo-young's own footsteps echoing in the hall shortly after.

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[rainsoughtflowers]

hate to be lame

tw/cw - cursing, smoking.

a/n - he’s so hard to write for tbh BGBFHD i feel like he’s a little ooc but oh well

pairing - geum seong-je x reader

you find yourselves somewhere quiet to eat. a wall not that far from your house that surrounds a small playground, perfect for sitting on top of. it's empty, for night has fallen and the temperature has dropped several degrees, causing you to shiver with every small gust of wind that sweeps past. 

when you're done with your food, seong-je reaches into his blazer and produces a pack of cigarettes. he deftly slips one out of the box, placing it between his teeth. before he can put it away, however, your own hands are reaching for the container, grabbing one for yourself. 

a flicker of surprise passes over his expression, his eyes carefully following your every movement as you wordlessly hand the box back to him. he puts it back into his pocket, yet his eyes never stray from the way you roll the white cylinder between your fingertips. for some reason, you get the feeling that if it had been anyone else, seong-je would've retaliated. because who would dare take the infamous union member's belongings without asking? it was a death wish. 

but when you glance up to meet his eyes, there's a challenge in your own features, daring him to say something. to snap. to do anything but smile at you like he finds you interesting. a outlet for his entertainment. 

he doesn't. frustratingly so, geum seong-je lets your blatant rudeness slide. 

yet another failure on your part to piss him off. 

you hear a latch open, the tell tale signs of a fire being produced with a swift flick. you turn, only to find seung-je offering the lighter to you, his cigarette still falling loosely from his lips. unlit, you realize, a detail so minuscule but you somehow don't miss.  

instead of taking it from his hands, you put the cigarette between your own lips, then lean down, tucking your hair behind your ear. your other hand keeps the cigarette steady, waiting until the flame catches, and a light smoke begins curling into the air. 

you glance up, and meet seung-je's eyes. 

he's watching you, a detail you notice suddenly, momentarily startling you. being this close, you notice the exact shape of his eyes, the beauty mark resting just below his right one, just barely visible from the large frames on the bridge of his nose. his gaze is dark and intense, and you feel like you can drown in it. the colors of his eyes. the dangerous storm held within. 

there's something else, too. something in there that makes your hatred for him grow, swelling like waves crashing against the shore. 

you lean back, taking a slow drag, then exhale the smoke out into the cold night air. despite your movement, seong-je doesn't take his eyes off of you. he just watches silently, that unreadable expression returning to his face, contemplative and intense. 

you hate it, the sudden attention. mainly because you don't know what he's thinking about, nor the intention behind his focus. it unsettles you. knowing what seong-je is capable of, but receiving no hints as to what he could say or do. and you highly doubt he'd be honest with you if you asked. 

"take a picture, it'll last longer." you grumble, shooting him a bored look. 

seong-je grins, leaning his head back, tilting it in that playful manner he adopts easily, "can i?"

you scowl at his response, pointedly glancing away and taking another slow drag. 

"does your cousin know you smoke?" he asks several seconds later, when your cigarettes are halfway done. you sigh, not quite understanding why he's taken a sudden interest in your life. it's not like you're friends. and seong-je doesn't seem like the curious type. at least, not sincerely. not out of a place of genuine care. 

"what my cousin doesn't know doesn't hurt him. besides," you lower the cigarette, flicking ash onto the floor with a soft shake, "he's more concerned about his precious union to notice what i do with my life."

"is that bitterness i sense?"

you pause, then shrug. 

"guess so."

it's why it annoyed you so much. his sudden concern over your safety. when the union was still growing, baek-jin never sent out anyone to watch over you. he gave you warnings, of course, reminding you to be careful and not to trust anyone so freely. but his protectiveness over you was never this extreme. 

'na baek-jin, just what did you get yourself into this time?'

it grows quiet. the atmosphere is filled with soft breaths and the chirp of crickets, the distant howling wind and the flicker of streetlamps. thankfully, seong-je doesn't try to break it. he simply let's it be, which fills you with relief. 

when it's time to leave, you snuff out your cigarettes and throw them away, then begin walking to your house. 

when you make it to the place you call home, you turn, reaching for your backpack, which seong-je had dutifully carried almost the entire day. when you make to grab for it, your fingers touch, startling you momentarily as a shock rushes through your entire body at the brief and unexpected contact. 

"you know," seong-je starts, causing you to glance up. and based on the wicked glint in his eyes, you know he's about to say something stupid. or annoying. perhaps both, "it's almost like we're dating."

yup. definitely stupid. 

even so, you hate the way your heart skips a beat, then promptly drops down into your stomach. how it turns, twisting into a knot, one that reaches all the way up to your throat. you hastily pull your hands back, curling your lips at him in disgust. 

"don't be delusional. i'd never date you."

"you confident in that?"

"yeah," you affirm, straightening as you regard him with a sharp stare, "because i hate you. more than anything."

because geum seong-je is a reminder of what na baek-jin chose. the life he opted for over one with you and park hu-min. every time you look at him, all you see is the union. the remnants of violence surrounding his presence. the danger that na baek-jin constantly puts himself within. 

seong-je chuckles lowly, visibly undeterred by your declaration, "don't be so harsh. aren't we at least friends? i've been walking you everywhere for weeks now."

you scoff, "you think i asked for this? i didn't. if i could, i'd never see your face again."

“harsh.”

"get used to it. i don't care about your feelings."

you turn, refusing to look back as you march up the steps and tug on the door. luckily, it's unlocked, meaning your cousin must be home, plus it saves you the time of fishing out your keys and staying with seong-je longer than necessary. 

"always a pleasure." he calls out, his voice quickly shut out by the slam of the door. 

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[rainsoughtflowers]

NEE CHAPTER IS SOOOOOOOO GOOD 👅

YIPPEEEE IM GLAD

[rainsoughtflowers]

lifesaver

tw/cw - brief mentions of injuries, including blood

a/n - woohoo another chapter

pairing - kang woo-young x reader

time seems to fold in on itself the longer the silence stretches.

seconds bend into something intangible. minutes are tucked into a pocket that's difficult to reach. and the present of your here and now blurs before your eyes, striking you with the sort of adversity that is incomprehensible to explain.

the more you stare at kang woo-young, taking in the sight of his messy hair and unreadable eyes, you're hit with a sense of familiarity. a moment in the pass similar to this one. a time and place that used to exist at one point in your life.

the scene warps as the memory surfaces, shifting from morning into night, exchanging the secluded alleyway behind the gym into a random convenience store not far from the school. and there you stand, pausing by the entrance, struck by the sight of a boy crouched near the ground and nursing a bruised fist against his chest.

as your shuffling footsteps cease to a stop, woo-young glances up. before he noticed your presence, his face had been marred by irritation, the kind that arises when one feels as if they've been wronged, and bitterness craves some sort of vengeance. but the moment he sees you, the frustration is softened by surprise, that fraction of a second where you caught off guard and you have yet to fix your expression into something superficial.

your own eyes widen slightly, feeling just as rattled by the momentary exchange. for several long seconds, you just stare at one another. quiet. unmoving. unsure of what to do beneath one another's consideration. it isn't until you glance down, sparing another look at the bruised knuckles and dried blood covering the scabs, and feel something tighten uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach, do you break the prolonged contact.

you avert your eyes, scampering hurriedly into the convenience store.

once you're inside, you release a long withheld breath, sparing a quick glance over your shoulder before focusing on the task at hand. you venture automatically towards the back of the store, where ready to go meals line the refrigerated shelves. you grab what you usually do; ramen, stringed cheese, and a carton of banana milk.

the cashier rings up your items mechanically, having done the motions countless times before, and is likely to do so countless times more. they bag up your items, then say with a tired sigh, "is that all?"

you open your mouth to confirm, only for your throat to get clogged with a protest. you hesitate, and suddenly, you're struck with the image of woo-young sitting outside those very doors. for some reason, you can't seem to forget the flicker of discomfort contorting his face. the careful way he cradled his injuries. the painful looking scabs decorating the back of his hand. like he'd gotten into a nasty fight.

"just one moment." you find yourself speaking, your legs moving on their own accord towards a different part of the store. by the time you return, a pack of band-aids and petroleum jelly have been added to your pile of items.

woo-young looks up when you approach him a second time, attuned to the feeling of your presence merging with his own existence. this time, when he peers up at you, his eyes are reflected with the blue and green lights of the convenience store, which splay across his face alongside curiosity, perhaps even a bit of wariness thrown into the mix.

without a word, you hold out one of your plastic bags. his eyes shift to the objects, then back to you, confusion overcoming his previous emotions. when he makes no motions that indicate he'll accept your offering, you lean down and set the contents gently beside him.

when you look up, you aren't expecting his face to be so close to your own, nor for his eyes to land upon your figure. you blink, caught off guard by the proximity. how intently he stares at you, like he's seeing something for the first time. a clarity within those dark pools.

that feeling in your stomach twists tighter.

you avert your gaze, straighten your posture, then run off before the sensation can chase you down the dark.

it feels both significant and insignificant, like you truly can't grasp its meaning as it vanishes into thin air. slowing down and passing by periodically, sporadically, with little to no meaning at all.

woo-young blinks, his gaze shifting away momentarily, and you wonder if he remembered it too, that brief encounter that held no significance. or maybe it held everything. carrying more weight than you realized, and it's finally gathered to this moment in time.

the boy's attention returns, and this time, it doesn't waver, not for a singular second. his eyes remain focused on your own, that quiet, careful contemplation reflected within. considering your proposal. turning it over in his head. searching for the benefits and downfalls of such a dangerous game to play.

for a brief moment, you think he'll refuse. perhaps laugh at you for being so bold. or dismiss you with his usual, cold indifference.

but then woo-young leans back against the wall, settling more comfortably in his seat, and tilts his lips into a smile.

"alright. i'm in."

you exhale, just barely, something akin to relief washing over your body. all the tension seeps out of you, leaving you drained of the restlessness that previously overcame it. it's funny, how your whole life, all you've ever wanted was to be left alone. by your father. by your bullies. by the teachers that offer their help but never go through with their promises. but this time, you've never been more grateful to have someone by your side.

enjoy it while it lasts. don't get attached. he'll just disappoint you in the end.

briefly, your eyes flutter shut, and when you open them, kang woo-young has his arm outstretched. fingers uncurled, palm face up.

you stare at it, first with confusion, then with realization. you flick your eyes back up.

"i don't have the money right now. i'll get it to you by the end of the week."

woo-young curls his lips into an amused smile, one that makes you think you got your initial assumption wrong based upon his small sense of entertainment. and that particular inference is correct when he nods his head towards your jacket with a laugh, "your phone," he clarifies.

you knit your eyebrows in puzzlement, suddenly growing wary, "why?"

"how else are you going to contact me?" he asks with a pointed look.

you purse your lips, realizing begrudgingly that he's right. if this is to work, you need a way to contact one another regarding the plan in case you can't find him at school. with a resigned sigh, you take out your phone and lay it flat on his palm.

his grin widens at your compliance. he curls his fingers around the device, then leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. he types something on the phone, and you aren't sure if you're imagining the mischievous glint in his eyes that influence the shape of his smile. when he hands it back, you carefully take it back into your possession.

you glance down, staring at the contact name displayed in large, bold letters across the top.

"lifesaver?" you repeat, testing the shape of the word. how it tastes on your tongue. the way it feels in your mouth.

"you haven't heard of it?" woo-young asks. when you fail to respond, he smiles, "think of it like this. you're the life, i'm the saver."

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[rainsoughtflowers]

hate to be lame

tw/cw - cursing, smoking

a/n - sneak peek of my new story hehe

paring - geum seung-je x reader

you turn right, heading towards the road that will lead you down to your cram school, only for your path to get blocked by an umbrella.

you stop, staring at the outstretched parasol before switching your attention to the culprit. 

a boy in a maroon uniform leans back against the wall, one foot propped against the bricks and his free arm resting comfortably in his pockets. his head is tilted towards the side, a lazy grin resting on his lips. behind a pair of glasses are a set of dark brown eyes, which study you carefully the moment your own gaze meets his.

when it becomes apparent that this encounter is not an accident, if not by the way he fails to retract the umbrella, then by the way he continues staring at you as if he's entertained by the whole ordeal, you slip off your headphones and let them hang around your neck, "do you need something?"

his grin widens at the annoyed tone of your voice. he finally lowers the umbrella, leaning it against the wall before holding up his finger as indication for you to wait, "one second."

he reaches that hand into his other pocket, pulling out a phone. he taps at the screen, then holds it up so it's level with your face. your features scrunch in confusion as his eyes switch between you and the screen.

whatever correlation he finds sends a pleased emotion running across his expression. he hums, lowering the device before resting his attention on your face once more, "you're na baek-jin's cousin."

his declaration doesn't surprise you. it's no secret what your relationship with na baek-jin is. practically everyone at your school knew about the familial ties you possess with the coldhearted boy.

but this guy clearly doesn't attend your school, and he's not someone you've ever seen before. something stirs within your stomach, an emotion between unease and a different, foreign sensation.

you turn to face him fully, "and who are you?"

"a friend of his. geum seung-je." he replies vaguely. the discomfort gets heavier.

"right," you respond, finally putting some of the pieces together. this boy must be a part of that gang your cousin seemed to cherish so much. the one you barely knew anything about, and preferred to keep it that way. why he would show up at your school is beyond you, but you don't have the time nor energy to dwell on the matter, "well, you're too late. baek-jin left an hour ago."

for some reason, his grin widens even more. the corner of his mouth quirks up on one side, an amused chuckle slipping past his lips. it unsettles you, the delight that brightens his eyes, "who said i was here for him?"

the way he speaks is condescending. like he knows something you don't, and he thrives off of that fact. and just that one, simple power imbalance forms something different within your stomach. different from the unease. different than the confusion.

"what?" you spit out.

seung-je releases a long, drawn out sigh. he reaches into his other pocket, and this time, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter appears in his hands. his movements are practiced and eased as he balances the cigarette between his teeth and flicks the lighter on, "na baek-jin sent me. for you."

it falls into place more rapidly now, each detail connecting with one another in a web of one singular distinction. and once you see it, that clear picture he was trying to nudge you towards, you feel your frustration boil and bubble to the surface with little to no warning.

"that fucking bastard," you curse beneath your breath, laughing incredulously at your cousin and this situation as a whole. the audacity for him to send one of his lackeys for your protection. and an annoying one at that. you snap your head towards the boy, "yah," you snap, prompting him to glance up, "stay away from me, and tell my cousin i don't need an escort."

your retreating footsteps are followed by his laughter, which contains all the qualities of that crawl uncomfortably beneath your skin. and following that sound is another pair of footsteps. this one heavier, slightly quicker, as if to catch up to your hurried pace.

you release a frustrated breath at the realization that he's ignored your command and began following you regardless of it. you whip around, facing him with a harsh glare. he comes to a halt just one pace away from you.

"are you deaf?" you demand.

undeterred by your hostility, he shrugs as he takes a slow drag from his cigarette, "just blind."

you scoff at his smart remark, a clear play on the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. and of course, it's his own way of making it be known that he heard you loud and clear. meaning, he went against your wishes simply because he can.

whatever. maybe if you ignore him, you can pretend he doesn't exist.

you turn back around, tuning out the sound of his footsteps by placing your headphones back around your ears. you turn the volume up, and it's just loud enough to drown out his breaths and the impact of his shoes hitting the ground.

by the time you arrive to your cram school, you've practically forgotten all about him. as you walk through the doors, it's easy to refrain from sparing him a glance, and you can almost pretend that your frustration came about from nothing at all.

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[rainsoughtflowers]

lifesaver

tw/cw - smoking

a/n - a snippet of my new story

pairing - kang woo-young x reader

it doesn't take you long to find him. 

after wandering the perimeter of the school, the smell of cigarette smoke hanging thickly in the air is what led you to the alleyway just outside the gym building. and sure enough, as you approach the clearing, you spot kang woo-young among a group of guys seated on empty containers and old wooden stools. 

your noise scrunches slightly at the scent, which burns the inside of your throat and the surface of your eyes. and even worse, you're suddenly overcome with an uncomfortable sensation. one that's difficult to ignore. 

it takes every ounce of restraint within your body to remain planted on the ground in front of them, ignoring the need to flee from the scene. the feeling of your muscles seized by fear, the scarcity of your breath, both are a product of the memory that surfaces when you spot the object hanging limply between deft fingertips. 

it reminds you of that dark storage room you find yourself in far too often. the suffocating smell of smoke. the pain that follows the scent. so much so, you need to avert your eyes to focus on a different point just to calm down enough to remain rational. 

the people he surrounds himself with ignore your existence. they give you no more than a passing glance, their attention easily sliding away from your figure to something more interesting or noteworthy.

but not him.

not once do his eyes leave your own. they lazily slide to your face, and it strikes you again. that crawling sensation down the length of your spine from the way he considers you. carefully, deliberately, in ways you are not used to. 

"you need something?" he mutters out, not exactly rude, but not kind either. just...there. 

you swallow hard, then force the words out, "can you help me?"

something shifts in woo-young's expression. you aren't sure what it is, but you recognize it. it's that same look he regarded you with sometime before. one that pierces through your defenses, as if he's seeing you for the first time. not the empty shell of yourself. not the ghost of a girl carrying something she cannot bear anymore. 

he doesn't say anything, which you take as a sign to continue. 

"i heard you'll beat people up for money."

slowly, a smile curls woo-young's lips. it stretches wide across his face, deepening the lines around his cheeks and creasing his eyes just slightly. an amused chuckle slips past his teeth as he leans back, taking a drag from his cigarette, "for the right price."

"how much would i need to pay you to help me get revenge?"

your question must catch woo-young off guard. he blinks, his smile faltering just barely. this time, when he studies you, it's with a smudge of curiosity. his eyes drag across every inch of your face, like he's trying to understand you, and you don't miss the way his attention lingers on the healing scab on your lips.

"what kind of revenge?" he finally inquires. 

the corner of your mouth twitches. whether it was to form into a frown or a smile, you'll never know, "the kind that would make someone miserable for the rest of their life."

read the rest on wattpad or ao3 !

[rainsoughtflowers]

your kang fanfic on wattpad is SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD !!! you're an amazing writer, keep em coming when you can

😮‍💨🤑😫🤤

AHAHH THANK YOU SO MUCH i’ll be updating it pretty frequently since im on summer break :3

[rainsoughtflowers]

writing for wooyoung since there aren’t a lot of fanfics out there 🙏

https://www.wattpad.com/story/392112225?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=rainsoughtflowers

[rainsoughtflowers]

let love bleed red | geum seongje

summary: in which you got yourself tangled up with geum seongje. at first, it was trouble. then, it became routine. until, somehow, you became the only thing he would bleed for—willingly, violently, without regret.

pairing: geum seongje x fem!reader

genre: romance, hurt/comfort, angst

word count: 6.2k

playlist: he was chaos, he was revelry

you were crouched by the side of a quiet alley behind a convenience store, setting down a paper plate with tuna and a cup of water. a tiny stray kitten had been hanging around there lately, mistrustful, but hungry. you've seen it a few times and started bringing food when you pass by.

the kitten was peeking out from under a box, inching closer. you kept still, one hand out, speaking low and soft.

then, there was a crash. a loud bang echoed from farther down the alley, and the sound of something—someone—getting slammed into a wall.

the kitten bolted instantly, disappearing into a gap between buildings.

you groaned under your breath, standing up with an irritated huff. not only did it startle the kitten, but it also startled you. you almost stumbled from the shock of the loud noise, your heart pounding rapidly.

"what the hell..." you stepped a little farther out to see the source, and then you saw him. a tall guy, maroon uniform jacket slipping off one shoulder, face stretched, hair a mess. bloodied knuckles and eyes wild.

he wasn't from your school. and by the looks of it, his opponent was already down. two more stood at a distance, too afraid to move.

the man lifted his head once, cracking his neck. then his eyes landed on you. you didn't flinch. just stared with narrowed eyes.

"go start your fight somewhere else," you said evenly. "you're not from around here."

he raised his brows and stared like he hadn't heard you right. then he smiled, crooked and wild. the kind that says, 'you've just made things interesting.'

you turned your back on him and walked off, not giving him another glance.

he stared after you. not many people talked to him like that. even fewer walked away before he decided the conversation was over.

you didn't run, but didn't linger either. just walked like you had somewhere to be, like he wasn't worth wasting another second on.

his eyes remained on you, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. a faint cut on his knuckle stung, but barely noticed.

'go start your fight somewhere else.'

'you're not from around here.'

not a scream. not a plea. not even a threat. just pure irritation. like he was some dumb dog that pissed on your shoes.

his grin curled slowly, something unhinged hiding just beneath it. he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, stuck it between his teeth, and lit it. the flame briefly flickered across his face before he took a drag and blew the smoke out lazily.

he'd seen people cry, scream, and beg. he'd seen how most people either froze or ran when they saw him, faces tight with fear, eyes darting around. but you?

you looked at him like he was an eyesore.

his laugh came quiet. brief. half-laugh, half-breath.

feeding a stray cat, he thought, like it was some ridiculous joke the universe threw at him. you looked too soft for your own good, too normal, too boring.

so why did you stick?

he leaned his shoulder against the wall, just for a second. watched the street where you disappeared. his blood was still warm from the fight, but that moment? that edge in your voice?

it was the first time he felt interrupted.

not threatened, not challenged. just... like someone reached into his noise and pulled something to the surface.

he didn't know your name. but that was fine. he had time.

it wasn't the next day, or the day after. but seongje still found himself wandering near that same alley. always around the same time. leaning against walls with a cigarette between his lips, smoke curling above his head like a restless thought that wouldn't burn out.

he wasn't waiting, he told himself. he just happened to be here, just passing time.

he was mid-drag when he caught a flash of familiar movement. dark hair, a recognizable bag slung over one shoulder. you were crouched near the alley's corner again, opening a can of tuna. next to your feet was the same stray kitten from before, now a little less wary, its ears twitching.

you didn't notice him at first. he said nothing.

he watched you feed the kitten. your expression wasn't anything special, just calm, focused, lips pressed together in a straight line. but he stared like it was the most peculiar thing in the world, like you were something unreal.

then you sighed and sat back on your heels, that's when your eyes flicked up, and landed right on him. you tensed slightly, like you were trying to figure out if it was him or just some other delinquent in a maroon uniform.

it was definitely him.

"you again? you muttered, standing slowly, brushing off your knees. "don't tell me you're here to start trouble again."

seongje let the cigarette dangle loosely between his fingers, gaze half-lidded. "don't flatter yourself. this is my spot now."

you snorted. "your spot? pretty sure this alley existed before you."

a grin pulled at his lips, slow and amused. that sharp glint in your eyes was still there. that same irritation, not fear, not interest. just a girl who didn't give a damn who he was.

"you always talk this much when feeding cats?" he asked.

"no. just when someone interrupts." he laughed, quiet but real.

you moved to step past him, clearly done with the conversation. but before you could, he flicked his cigarette to the ground and said slowly, "you don't scare easy, do you?"

you paused. "i don't like getting caught up in situations like this."

you walked off before he could say anything else. same calm steps. same complete disinterest in him. he stared at the kitten as it ate.

for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel bored.

you were coming out of the convenience store with a yogurt drink in hand when you felt someone matching your pace beside you.

you didn't even need to look. you felt it, like the air shifted, a shadow slipping in just a bit too close.

"miss cat-feeder," came the drawl, smug and lazy.

you rolled your eyes and kept walking. "seriously?"

"you remembered me," he said, hands in his pockets, leaning slightly sideways to peer at your face.

"no. i remembered your stupid voice."

"ouch," he grinned. "you wound me."

"what do you want?"

"just walking. not allowed to exist now?"

"not next to me, preferably." he chuckled at that, keeping stride with you anyway.

he walked like he owned the sidewalk, like even the cracks made space for him. he kept glancing at you, amused by how hard you were trying not to look.

"don't you have school?" you muttered.

"skipped."

"of course you did."

there was a beat of silence before he casually reached out and tugged at the hem of your sleeve. "what flavor?"

you jerked your arm away. "touch me again and i'll pour this on your head."

his grin widened, eyes gleaming with delight. there it is. "you're fun."

"i'm really not."

"exactly."

you stopped in your tracks. he looked at you, curious. "look," you said, eyes flat. "i don't like hanging out with loud people. so if you're looking for someone to flirt with, pick someone else."

seongje stared at you for a second, unreadable. then he smirked.

"i'm not flirting."

"good."

"i just like watching you get pissed." and with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, hands back in his pockets like he didn't just drop a live wire into your day.

you watched him go, jaw tight.

god, he is annoying.

and worse, he knew it.

your shoes pounded against the pavement, too loud, too fast. the voices behind you were still getting closer. slurred words, the kind that came with guys who had too much time and nothing to lose. you'd told them off when they first approached, sharp and dismissive like always. but these ones didn't like hearing 'no'.

you darted around a corner, trying to cut into a side street you didn't usually take, and slammed straight into a body.

you stumbled back from the force, hands catching yourself on the person's chest, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat.

"whoa there," a familiar voice started, light and teasing.

your eyes shot up.

geum seongje.

of all people.

he was in his usual disheveled uniform, cigarette tucked between his fingers, a faint smirk already creeping up like instinct. "you really can't stay away from me, huh?"

but you weren't listening. you glanced over your shoulder, eyes scanning the street you just came from, anxiety tightening your features.

seongje's smirk faded, just a bit. his eyes narrowed.

"what happened?"

"none of your business. i need to go."

you stepped to the side, trying to move past him but his arm shot out fast, catching you by the wrist. not hard. not enough to hurt. but firm.

his voice lost all its humor.

"who."

you jerked against his grip, frustrated. "just let me go. jesus christ."

he didn't. instead, his eyes flicked toward the corner you came from. and for a brief second, something flickered through him, that thing he tried to keep under the surface unless it was time to let it loose.

then he heard footsteps and voices getting closer. the guys rounded the corner, laughing, loud, eyes scanning.

and then they saw you.

and then him.

one of them started to speak, some dumb threat halfway out of his mouth when seongje stepped forward and flicked his cigarette.

"alright," he said, eyes gleaming now. "which one of you thought chasing her was a good idea?" his tone didn't rise. he didn't shout. but it was enough.

the shift in the air was immediate, like a wire pulled taut. the guys slowed, uneasy.

"you with her?" one of them muttered, trying to size him up. seongje's lip curled in amusement.

"nah," he said, rolling his shoulder. "but she ran into me. so now you've got a problem."

one of them laughed nervously, already starting to backpedal. but it was too late.

you didn't say a word. his posture changed, loose and wild, but sharp, like the crackle before a fire starts.

"stay behind me," he muttered without looking at you. you almost snapped at him.

i didn't ask for help.

but something in the way he said it—flat, final—made you stay put.

he didn't do it for gratitude. he did it because someone pissed him off. and right now, that someone was anyone who looked at you wrong.

they didn't get the chance to react further. not really, because seongje's already on them.

the first one barely managed to raise his arm before seongje slammed his fist into his jaw, the sound cracking through the alley like a gunshot. he didn't stop, he grabbed the guy by the collar, slamming his head against the wall once, twice, three times until he crumpled like dead weight.

the second guy tried to pull something, maybe a pocketknife, but he was too slow. seongje grabbed his wrist and bended it the wrong way with a sickening snap. the guy howled, dropping the knife, and seongje grinned wider.

the last one tried to run. he got maybe five steps before seongje tackled him from behind, dragging him down like a wolf ripping through prey. there was nothing clean about the way he beat him. just pure rage unleashed in fists, knees, elbows, and feet.

the alley was quiet again. the three guys were groaning, two on the ground and one stumbling away. none of them dared to look back.

seongje stood in the center of it, breathing a little heavier, the scrape on his knuckles raw and fresh. blood trickled slowly down his arm, but he didn't seem to care. not even a glance at it.

you stared. not because you were scared of the violence. you'd known what he was capable of. you'd just never seen it up close. not like this.

there was a kind of stillness around him now, but it wasn't peace. it was the kind of stillness right after lightning hits the ground. charged, dangerous, humming under the surface.

he turned toward you, running a hand through his hair. eyes sharper now, less unhinged than before, but still wild.

"you good?" you hesitated.

"you didn't have to do that." he shrugged.

"i didn't do it for you." you frowned, annoyed.

"then why-"

"they looked at you like they could touch you," he said, voice low and quiet. "i didn't like that."

it came out too calm. like he was just stating a fact. like it was that simple.

you stared at him. "that's not normal."

he tilted his head. "i'm not normal."

you stood there in the silence again, tension thick between you both. then he looked down at his hand, flexed his fingers once.

"you gonna keep staring, or you gonna say thank you?"

you exhaled sharply. "i didn't ask you to help."

his lip twitched. "you didn't have to."

you started walking past him, brushing your shoulder lightly against his arm. "don't follow me."

he didn't. but he watched you go. watched like a wolf who'd just caught the scent of something that didn't run fast enough.

and this time, it wasn't about teasing you for attention anymore. it was something else. something worse.

something's changed. it had been days. you hadn't seen him near the alley, near the store, nowhere. and honestly, you were glad. the fight had left a sour taste in your mouth. not fear exactly, but it reminded you of the line he walked. the kind of line that most people never went near.

so when you saw him again leaning against the vending machine right outside the store, your steps faltered.

he noticed, eyes tracking you immediately. not grinning, not talking. just watching.

you stiffened, but kept walking. no use turning back now. you passed him without a word.

"you're avoiding me," he said. you didn't stop. "smart," he added after a beat.

that did it. you turned slightly, arms crossed, tone flat. "what do you want now?"

he looked you over, slower this time. less playful. like he was measuring something invisible.

"you said don't follow you," he said. "so i didn't."

"and yet, here you are."

"i was here first."

you hated that he had a point.

he pulled out a soda from the vending machine and cracked it open, taking a lazy sip. "i scared you."

"no you didn't."

his head tilted. "but you looked at me different after that day." you didn't reply. "you don't like people like me," he went on. "you don't like what i do. the way i fight. the way i look at you."

your throat tightened. "you make it sound like i'm supposed to like it."

he smiled, small, almost secret. "you're not."

you sighed and turned away again, but this time, his voice became lower. less teasing.

"you're not scared of me," he said. "but you're careful now." you paused. "i get it," he added. "but you should know something."

"what?" you asked warily.

"i'd kill for you without thinking."

the words didn't sound romantic. they didn't even sound intense. they were just real.

heavy. simple. dangerous.

you looked at him. at the bruised knuckles, the lazy posture, the eyes that never stopped watching you. and for the first time, you didn't see an annoying prick. you saw the storm behind his grin.

you didn't say a word as you walked away. but you walked slower this time.

the sky was gray, and the wind carried that dry chill that always came with autumn.

you didn't mean to come this way. really, you didn't. but this street was quieter than the main road, and your head was already aching from a whole day of voices, noise, and pressure from everyone around you.

your friends had found out. not just about anyone, but him. a certain delinquent hanging around you. not just anyone either, but someone from the union.

they kept telling you the same thing. stop meeting him, cut him off, stay away before things got worse. that's all you've been hearing for days. from different mouths, but the same message, over and over. as if you hadn't thought about that already. like you hadn't been trying.

you were tired. bone-deep, soul tired.

and there he was.

same place. same vending machine. like he'd been waiting, but not really. like he knew you'd come eventually.

seongje glanced up, surprised, but only a little. his cigarette burned lazily between his fingers, his jacket loose, like he didn't care how cold it was getting.

you stopped a few steps away and didn't say anything.

he raised a brow. "lost?"

"no," you said, too flat, too fast.

he stared. then blew out smoke in a low exhale. "you look like shit."

you snorted faintly. "thanks."

he nodded toward the chair beside him. "sit if you want."

"i didn't come to hang out with you."

"didn't say you did."

still, you sat. not close, just near enough to feel the warmth of someone else existing beside you. near enough to not feel completely alone. you stayed like that for a while. nothing said.

then, without looking at him, you muttered, "why are you like this?"

his brow quirked. "like what?"

"crazy. violent. all of it."

a beat. then a shrug. "it's fun."

you sighed, frustrated but not surprised.

and then, so softly that he almost didn't hear it, you said, "you make everything worse. but today... i don't know. you don't feel loud." that caught him off guard.

he turned to look at you, cigarette paused halfway to his lips.

you didn't meet his eyes. you just sat there, face turned to the street. like this, quiet and tired and not trying to prove anything, you looked different.

more fragile. not weak, never that. but human.

seongje flicked his ash away. "stay, then," he said. "if it helps."

you didn't answer. but you didn't leave either. and for once, he didn't push you to speak. he just let you be. which, for someone like him, was a kind of affection.

the unspoken kind.

the kind that doesn't ask for anything back.

another day, and there he was again. it wasn't often that you saw him alone like this. really alone. no noise. no laughter. no fights.

just seongje, slouched low on the steps behind an old building, elbows on his knees, head tilted back like he was trying to drown in the grey sky. he didn't notice you at first, too wrapped in whatever chaos lived behind his eyes.

you should've kept walking. you meant to keep walking. but something stopped you. maybe it was the stillness. maybe it was the fact that for the first time since you met him, he didn't look like someone trying to stir shit up. he looked tired.

you approached slowly, footsteps soft. he heard you eventually, turning just slightly to glance your way. his usual grin didn't show up.

"you stalking me now?" he said, voice low, like he couldn't be bothered to make it sound playful.

"i was just walking by."

"uh-huh."

you didn't sit beside him. you stood a little off to the side, arms folded, eyes scanning his face. there was a bruise on his cheekbone, not fresh but healing, and a split on his lower lip.

"what happened this time?"

"some idiot." he muttered. "deserved worse than what he got."

you rolled your eyes. "that doesn't narrow it down."

he smirked faintly. but it didn't last. he looked back up at the sky. "ever feel like you're stuck in a room that's too small, and the only way to breathe is to break something?"

you blinked. that wasn't the answer you expected. you said nothing.

he let out a low breath. "yeah. never mind."

you hesitated, then stepped closer. not sitting, just standing near him.

"i don't get you." you said finally.

"good."

"but i care."

that made him look at you again. not with that lazy, cocky grin. not with the sharp glint he gave the people he was about to wreck.

just... eyes. dark, unreadable, confused.

"you care?" he repeated, almost mocking, but there was no real heat in it.

you nodded. "i don't want to, but i do."

the silence that followed was heavier than anything he could've said.

you rubbed at your sleeve, eyes darting away. "it's stupid."

he stared a second longer, then tilted his head. "i'm not gonna be good for you," he said flatly. no apology in it. just fact.

"i know."

"i'll hurt people."

"i know."

"i might hurt you."

your gaze snapped back to his. "then i'll leave."

a pause.

and for the first time, his expression shifted, something sharp flickering behind his eyes, like the idea of you leaving physically bothered him.

but you held his stare. "i don't deserve to be hurt by you."

he didn't answer. when you turned to go, he didn't stop you. he didn't grab your wrist. he didn't make a scene. he just watched you leave like someone who'd been left too many times before to call out now.

and that was how you knew it wasn't just some sort of game to him anymore.

it was supposed to be just another normal day. you were going to meet up with a friend from a different school. but somehow, word got around that you'd said something snappy to the wrong group of boys the other day, boys who thought they could intimidate you into taking it back. you didn't.

but now they were standing in front of you in the alley near the rear exit of the building. three of them, too close, too smug, and too stupid to understand that they were walking into something far worse than your sharp tongue.

because seongje had seen.

he wasn't supposed to be there. you didn't even know why he was around this part of the city. but the second his eyes locked on the scene, on you cornered, arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched, something dark lit behind his expression.

he didn't run. he didn't shout. he just walked, calm as anything, like he had all the time in the world. the sound of his steps echoing on the pavement made all three boys turn.

"oi," he said, voice low and slow.

the boys stiffened. one of them scoffed. "the hell are you?"

seongje grinned cockily. "me? i'm geum seongje. you fuckers."

his name dropped like a dead weight. the air shifted. one of them paled a little, while another took an unconscious step back.

"oh—shit—" one of them muttered under his breath, recognizing it too late.

then his eyes flickered to you. "you okay?"

you swallowed. "i've got it."

"wrong answer."

he passed the boys like they weren't even there, stepping between them and you, like drawing a line they couldn't cross anymore.

"you wanna explain why the hell you're trying to corner mine?"

the word slipped out like instinct. your breath caught.

the boys hesitated. one of them backed up. the dumbest one laughed nervously.

"you serious, man? you dating this chick or something?"

seongje didn't answer right away. instead, he pulled out his glasses, the metal catching the light for a second. then, without a word, he took your hand gently, almost unnervingly so, and placed them in your palm.

"i don't repeat myself."

and that was the only warning they got. it wasn't a fight. it was a statement.

a clear, brutal, one-sided reminder that you were off-limits. that if they so much as looked at you again, they'd wake up in pieces.

he didn't let it last long. he didn't need to.

when it was over, and the three of them were groaning on the pavement, he turned to you, no grin now, just quiet breathing. without a word, he took the glasses from your hand and slid them back on.

"you didn't need to do that," you said quietly.

"they shouldn't have looked at you like they could."

"that's not how this works."

he glanced at you, sharp. "it is now."

you looked away, jaw tight. "you act like i'm yours."

another beat of silence. the only sound was the wind through rusted fences. and then,

"you are," he said simply.

you stared at him, your heart thudded too loud.

"you can't just—claim people."

"i can."

"why?" he held your gaze, something unreadable flickering in his.

"you're the only thing i don't want broken."

he said it like it bothered him. like the truth of it irritated the hell out of him.

you didn't know what to say. so you didn't. you just walked beside him as he left the alley, silent. but this time, you stayed close.

and this time, he didn't grin. he just walked with you like he always meant to.

the day had been long. longer than you thought it would be. school, people, life. everything felt suffocating. your body ached, your mind was frayed, and every little thing seemed to pile on top of you until you could barely keep your head above water.

but then, through the haze of exhaustion, you saw him.

seongje, leaning against your school gate. unbothered and detached. his posture was casual, his eyes scanning the crowd of students coming out of school. but the moment your gaze locked onto him, your heart gave a small jolt of relief.

there. him. the one person who, for reasons you still couldn't fully understand, made you feel safe. your body seemed to move on its own, your feet carrying you toward him without a second thought.

and then before you could even process what you were doing, you were already running toward him, arms outstretched, chest tight from the strain of everything you'd been holding inside all day.

the moment you reached him, you didn't stop. you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face against his chest.

you hummed. the noise was quiet, like a soft sigh of contentment, and for the first time all day, your muscles finally relaxed.

his scent, the familiar warmth of him, it was like home. a feeling you hadn't known you were missing until it was there, pressing against you in a way you couldn't explain.

for a split second, everything felt peaceful. you could rest now. let everything melt away. with him, it felt like nothing else mattered.

seongje froze. his first instinct was to step back, to pull away, because this wasn't how things were supposed to be. but when you stayed against him, not saying anything, just holding him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded, something inside him twisted.

what the hell?

he couldn't breathe for a second. your arms around him, your face buried against him like you needed him. like he was something more than just some mad dog. he didn't know what to do with it.

you were so soft against him. so warm. his heartbeat, which had been steady, quickened as your arms tightened just slightly. and his body, despite the automatic urge to pull away, instinctively responded, his hands hovering at his sides, unsure of where to put them, but not wanting to make you pull away.

his reaction was slow. he was staring down at you, his usual detached expression gone, replaced with a mix of confusion and something closer to... discomfort. he didn't know how to handle it.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, he placed his hand awkwardly on your back, barely enough to return the gesture, but it was something. just a gentle pressure, like he was trying to let you know he wasn't going to push you away. but he wouldn't pull you in either. not fully.

his voice came out rough, not because he was angry, but because he didn't have the words to make sense of what was happening. "you... okay?" he asked, his voice low. it was like he was trying to understand you better. trying, in his strange way, to care.

and when you hummed again, your body still pressed against him like you needed nothing more, he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him. subtle, but undeniable.

he didn't say anything else, but he did one thing he never thought he would. he let you stay there, his hand still on your back, just enough to show that maybe, just maybe, he didn't mind you being this close.

thoughts had been swirling around your head. people already knew who you were, and the kind of connection you had with geum seongje. you'd been hearing disapproving remarks from people you knew, left and right.

but that wasn't what was bothering you. it was when one of your friends asked, "when did you even start dating geum seongje?"

you didn't know how to answer that. you weren't dating. were you even together? you'd been so focused on how you felt about him, so content with the time you were spending together, that you'd forgotten to ask the most important question.

where do you stand in his life?

so you finally asked, quietly. on a cold night, after one of his disappearances. you looked at him and said, "what are we, seongje?"

he didn't look at you right away. he just lit a cigarette, sat back like you didn't just ask something that's clawing at your ribs.

then, after a long pause, he said, "you don't need a label for something i'd kill over."

still too vague. so you pressed. "so that's it? you can show up and disappear and wreck people and i'm just... what? someone you know?"

now he's irritated. not because you're wrong, but because his feelings itch under his skin worse than blood.

he dragged you close by the wrist, eyes burning, voice low and rough. "you're mine. you're not like the others. you don't walk away from me. and i'll kill anyone who touches you."

it became even clearer in actions. he doesn't flirt with others. he doesn't sleep around. he shows up when you're hurt, when you need help, or even just when the silence gets too heavy. his violence becomes more controlled around you. his chaos pauses for you.

and if you ever try to walk away, not out of fear, but heartbreak, he doesn't beg. but he follows.

he shows up in the dark and says, "you don't get to leave. you're the only thing i don't want to break."

so no, you don't get a title. but you get certainty. the kind that claws into you and never lets go.

you were at seongje's place, curled up in the corner of his bed, wearing one of his hoodies, watching something on your phone. occasionally, you laughed, your brow twitching, your mouth tugging in little ways. you probably didn't know he was watching.

he was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall. a cigarette rested between his fingers, forgotten halfway through.

it should've been just another moment. just another afternoon with you near. that's all it was. but it wasn't.

something cracked. it was quiet. internal. sudden.

he looked at you, really looked, and it hit him like a pipe to the chest. he'd always known you were different.

you didn't scream like the world did, you didn't beg to get closer to him, or flinch when he tore the world apart with his bare hands. you didn't reach to fix what couldn't be fixed.

you just were. and he couldn't fucking breathe.

he'd thought what he felt for you was already obsession. he thought the way he needed you around—the way his days didn't start right unless he saw your face—was already too much.

but this? right now? it was worse.

because you weren't even doing anything. you were just there, in his space like you belonged. and he couldn't stand it.

he didn't blink, didn't move. his heart was beating too fast, too heavy. like it was trying to get out of his chest, like it was trying to claw its way toward you.

you looked up at him, catching the stare.

"what?" you asked, your voice soft, lazy with comfort.

that was the final hit. his cigarette dropped to the floor. he stood and crossed the room in two strides.

you blinked and sat up, shifting to the edge of the bed. confused, then mildly concerned, because he wasn't saying anything. just looking at you like he was on the edge of something ugly.

"what is it?" you asked again.

he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands braced on the mattress like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"you," he muttered, low, dangerous, barely holding back the quake in his chest. "you don't even fucking know, do you."

you blinked in confusion, "know what?"

"that i'm already gone."

he leaned in close, breath warm against your skin. his hands were clenched on the sheets beside your thighs.

"i didn't think it could get worse," he said, tone ragged. "but it did. just now. just looking at you."

"seongje-"

he didn't let you finish. his voice came out lower. hoarser.

"i'd burn down everything. rip open anyone. just to keep this. you. whatever the fuck this is—"

he pressed his forehead against your knee. his voice dropped, barely a whisper now, like it hurt him to say.

"—it's mine."

your fingers moved before your words did. you reached out, slow and certain, and slipped your hand into his hair, like you knew something inside him was coming apart at the seams, and you needed to keep it from unraveling further.

you didn't flinch. didn't pull away from the sharpness in his voice or the weight behind his words.

instead, you curled your fingers gently against his scalp and said, soft but steady, "you don't have to break things just to prove you want to keep me. i'm not going anywhere."

that did something to him. his breath hitched, quiet, jaw clenched. you didn't treat his madness like something to be pitied or feared. you didn't try to fix it. you didn't flinch from the wreckage. you just understood it was there and touched it anyway.

his arms wrapped around your waist almost without thinking, head still pressed to your knee like it was the only place he could breathe.

then you said it, quietly. not to tease, not to demand. just honest. like it had always been true.

"you are my home."

and that was the thing that shattered him. because he didn't have a home. not really, never did. he was a creature built from chaos and flame and blood. the idea that someone could look at him and find rest?

it wrecked him in a way no fist ever could. his grip tightened. not out of fear of you leaving. but because you just gave him something he didn't know he'd been starving for all his life. and now that he had it, he'd kill the whole world before he let it go.

he didn't know what to say yet. so when you gently pulled him toward the bed, he didn't resist. he didn't say something cocky or crass like he usually would. he just let you.

you lay down first, guiding him beside you. he collapsed next to you like a man thrown off balance. arms still around your waist, his head buried against the curve of your neck. as if he could crawl inside your skin just to get closer.

your fingers ran through his hair, slow, rhythmic, soothing. the storm inside him didn't vanish, but it quieted. simmered.

your voice cut through the quiet, soft and careful. "do you love me?"

he froze. he didn't pull away, but he did stop breathing for a second. his gaze locked on yours, heavy and unreadable. then he took a slow breath, jaw tightening.

love? what the hell was that supposed to feel like? that was too unfamiliar. too soft.

he didn't know. he'd never had it. not from anyone. not for anyone. all he'd ever known was survival, pleasure, and pain. wanting things so badly he broke them just to feel something. hurting because it was the only way to know he was alive.

but this? this thing in his chest, this raw, aching, burning thing that only grew worse the longer you touched him, it was something else.

so he didn't lie. he didn't pretend. he spoke against your skin, voice hoarse and quiet.

"i don't know what love is. but i know i can't fucking stand the thought of you not being here."

another breath. he pulled you closer.

"you're the only thing that makes me feel calm and insane at the same time. you—" he exhaled, shaky now, like it hurt to say, "—you make me feel too much. and i can't stop it."

his fingers dug into the back of your shirt. possessive. desperate.

"i don't know if it's love, but i know this—you're mine. you've been mine since the moment i saw you. doesn't matter if you run, or scream, or try to tear me out of your chest. you're still mine."

"you're the air that i breathe," he said, voice dropping to a whisper, like a confession no one else was meant to hear. "and i'd tear the world apart to keep you. no hesitation. no mercy."

"when i look at you, it hurts." he said. "but i want that hurt. over and over again. you're the only thing i'd bleed for without thinking twice."

he let the silence stretch, like he wanted the weight of his words to press against you. crush you, mark you, bind you to him in the only way he knew how.

it was not a confession, but a surrender.

your chest tightened. your eyes stung. and you hated that they did, because you weren't sad. you weren't broken.

you were just... full. full of him. of this.

a shaky breath escaped you as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing just beneath his eye, like you needed to touch something solid to believe any of this was real.

you smiled. small, trembling, but true.

"whatever it is you feel for me, let it consume you." your voice was steady, despite the trembling in your chest. "break for me. burn only for me. want no one else—because i don't want anyone but you."

he stared at you like you'd just taken the air out of his lungs.

"i don't care if it's wrong, or selfish, or if the world thinks i've lost my mind." your hand slid back into his hair gently. "you're mine, geum seongje. just as much as i'm yours."

his hands were already on your waist, but they tightened at those words, like something inside him finally snapped.

and he kissed you. it wasn't soft. it wasn't careful. it was desperate, like he needed to feel everything at once, like if he didn't press every inch of you into him, he might fall apart.

you kissed him back just as hard, just as aching, fingers curling in his hair like you could anchor the both of you with the weight of your want.

and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

not the danger in his eyes. not the chaos in his soul. not the way the world would look at you.

because you knew him. and you would choose him—still. every time.

for you, he would bleed himself dry a thousand times—willingly, completely, because he didn't know how not to.

[rainsoughtflowers]

Bruises and Glances was so good!!! Can you do a part two? 🫶

bruises & glances two | geum seong je x fem!reader

summary: Since the night he broke someone’s face for her, Seong-je keeps coming back—closer each time, his quiet gaze carving a space between them neither dares to name. But when she finally slips him her number, the way he looks at her before stepping into the night doesn’t feel like goodbye—it feels like a beginning, or a warning.

warnings: [fluff i think] seong je being a flirt, mild language and smoking .

author's note: your wish is my command. :P requests (pls pls request)

✶ ᶻz .ᐟ , one .. two .. ??

after that night, he came more often.

not every night—but enough that it wasn’t coincidence anymore. always with the same two friends, bruised and grinning like nothing hurt. they took their usual table near the window, like they belonged there. like they’d always been there.

she didn’t say anything the first few times. neither did he.

but the air was different. heavier in the pauses. lighter in the smiles.

his friends noticed first.

the way his eyes followed her. the way hers lingered when she thought no one was looking. sometimes he’d say something low, just enough for her to hear as she passed by, and his friends would nudge each other, biting back their laughs. she pretended not to notice. sometimes she didn’t succeed.

she wasn’t sure what they were now. not exactly friends. not strangers either.

something quiet and slow had settled between them, built from stares and shared silences.

tonight was no different.

he was leaned back in his chair, leg stretched out too far like he was daring someone to trip. one hand wrapped around his water glass, fingers still scraped raw from something recent.

she walked up with her notepad, chewing the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling too much.

“same thing?” she asked.

he looked at her like he had all the time in the world.

“unless you’re finally gonna tell me what you eat.”

“you gonna copy me?”

“maybe.”

“that’s lame.”

he tilted his head. “maybe i just wanna know what you like.”

her stomach did a weird thing. she tried to hide it by writing something that didn’t need to be written.

“you’re taking too long,” he said, voice low and amused.

“shut up.”

“make me.”

and then—

“yah!”

her grandma’s voice cracked through the kitchen like a firework.

“you taking their whole life story or their damn order?”

her entire body stiffened. the boys at the table burst out laughing.

she turned a brilliant shade of red, barely meeting his eyes.

“i’ll be right back,” she muttered, spinning on her heel before he could say another word.

he watched her go, the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth refusing to leave.

dinner passed like that—quiet jabs, a little more open each time. he didn’t say much, but what he did say was sharper now. warmer, in his own way. and she—she didn’t pull away from it.

eventually, their plates emptied. glasses full of melting ice. napkins bunched up and stained with chili oil.

“we’ll smoke outside,” one of his friends said, standing and stretching like a cat. “don’t wait up.”

he said it too casually. too knowingly.

seong je didn’t respond, just waved them off.

the bell above the door jingled as they left. outside, the night buzzed low and distant. a scooter passed. someone shouted two blocks down.

she was wiping down the table beside his, fingers moving in quiet, practiced motions. the shop had settled into that soft, late-hour hush. chili paste still hung in the air. oil still bubbled faintly in the kitchen.

he hadn’t moved.

just sat there, arms resting on the edge of the table, watching her with that usual quiet, unreadable look.

“you always here this late?” he asked suddenly.

she glanced up, a little surprised. “usually.”

he nodded like that made sense. like he already knew.

“must get boring,” he added, picking up a toothpick and twirling it between his fingers. “wiping tables. waiting for creeps to walk in.”

she huffed a quiet laugh. “beats getting my nose broken almost everyday.”

his eyes flashed. amused. “true.”

a beat of silence.

he looked toward the window, where smoke curled faintly from where his friends stood, silhouettes under the streetlamp.

then, without looking at her—casually, like he was still thinking aloud:

“so… if i wanted tteokbokki when you’re not working,” he said slowly, “how would i know where to find you?”

she blinked. straightened a little.

“you don’t,” she said, guarded but teasing.

his lips tugged into that small, crooked grin again. “what if i get desperate?”

she raised an eyebrow. “for food?”

he tilted his head, eyes on her now. something deeper in them. “maybe not just food.”

her breath caught.

he held her gaze. still that easy, slow voice. but something in it pressed closer.

“…you could just tell me,” he said.

she hesitated. then stepped closer, grabbed a pen from the counter, and gently slid a napkin across the table.

didn’t say anything as she wrote.

just handed it over, then turned away like it didn’t mean something.

he looked down at the numbers. then folded it once and tucked it into his jacket pocket like it was the only thing worth keeping.

when he finally stood, the bell above the door jingled soft.

but before he stepped out, he looked back again.

not smiling.

not smirking.

just… looking.

and she was already looking back.

✶ ᶻz .ᐟ , one .. two .. ??

[rainsoughtflowers]

more seong je 🙏🙏

bruises & glances | geum seong je x fem!reader

summary: in a cramped tteokbokki shop near a shadowy bowling alley, a girl spends her nights serving bloodied high schoolers without asking questions—until one night, something crosses a line. when a stranger touches her, geum seong-je, a boy known more for his fists than his words, retaliates without hesitation, leaving behind shattered tables, silence, and a stare that says too much.

warnings: [fluff i think] physical violence , sexual harassment (non-explicit but invasive behavior and unwanted touching) , mild language and verbal threats .

author's note: requests more seooongg jeeeee !!! i posted three times today... i need a life. request pleaseeee!! bmf.. heh.

the scent of chili paste and frying oil curled into the air, familiar and warm. the kind of smell that clung to hair, to clothes, to memories. most nights were loud but manageable—tables full of boys too beat-up to sit properly but still hungry enough to eat like wolves. she’d grown used to the noise, to the bruises, to the way no one said what really happened just down the alley where the underground lights flickered.

grandma never asked questions. just fed them. scolded them. patched a split eyebrow here and there. she treated them like stray dogs that knew how to come home.

and like clockwork, they kept coming.

the restaurant sat just a few minutes from the old bowling alley buried under a laundromat—half-forgotten unless you were a teenager looking for a fight or a place to disappear. she never went down there, but she knew what kind of things happened in the dark. you could always tell who came from the alley by the way they limped in, the blood on their collars, the way they tried to pretend they weren’t hurting.

but when he walked in, it never felt like routine.

he didn’t come every night. didn’t need to. just his presence made the walls feel narrower. the tables quieter.

he always moved like he didn’t care who was watching. like he was looking for something to break or someone to dare him. but tonight, something about him was more frayed. his lip was split. his knuckles raw and red like they’d never had time to stop bleeding.

he slid into his usual seat, his two friends following behind without a word.

she looked up just as he glanced over. neither of them looked away quick enough.

her heart tugged in her chest like it forgot what pace it was supposed to be on.

she grabbed her notepad, walked over.

“usual?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

he looked at her longer than normal.

“…unless you got something sweeter,” he said, voice low and lazy, a grin playing at the edge of his mouth.

her cheeks warmed instantly. she scoffed under her breath, half a laugh, and turned away before he could see too much.

she didn’t know what they were to each other—barely spoke, barely looked—but it was there. in glances. in how their eye contact always felt long and intense before he left. in how he didn’t let anyone else take his order.

the bell above the door jingled again.

two guys walked in. too old for high school. too confident. they sat near the middle table, legs wide, arms thrown over the chairs like they belonged there.

they didn’t.

she could feel their eyes before they even said anything.

she kept it neutral. polite. brought water. took the order.

and as she turned to walk away—

“damn,” one of them muttered, eyes on her legs. “this place got real good lately.”

his friend chuckled, louder. “think she’s on the menu?”

she kept walking, shoulders stiff.

then—

a hand. fast. grabbing.

a squeeze.

the tray hit the floor with a crash. water spilled out in every direction.

her breath caught.

she spun, slapped the hand away hard. “don’t touch me.”

there was no room to think. no time to process.

a chair screeched.

he was already up.

no warning. no noise.

he moved like something had snapped in his chest.

within seconds, the creep was on the ground—throat grabbed, a fist already crashing into his face.

again.

again.

no yelling. no insults. just the dull thud of bone and skin and table legs shifting from the weight of it.

his grin was back—but this time it was wild. dangerous. like he was enjoying every second of it.

his friends didn’t move at first.

only when blood started smearing the floor did one of them speak.

“hyung—”

“don’t.”

his voice was flat.

“i’m not done yet.”

the man on the floor groaned, face swollen, one eye already shut.

she stepped forward, heart racing. “stop—please.”

he didn’t even look at her.

his fist came down again.

“you shouldn’t have touched her,” he said, like he was speaking to himself more than the man below him. “fucking dumb move.”

Blood splattered across the linoleum. The man beneath him whimpered. Hands up. Seong-je didn’t care.

His two friends rushed in, grabbing his shoulders. It took both to drag him off.

he stood, shoulders rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths.

grandma stormed from the kitchen, spatula in hand, yelling curses only old women and gods understood.

smack!

she hit the guy on the back with a force no one expected. “you low-grade eel! you dog-faced worm!”

smack!

“get out! if i see you again i’ll stir-fry your intestines!”

the man scrambled out, barely conscious, his friend dragging him like a bag of trash.

and then—

silence.

the chairs were still crooked. her tray was still on the floor. blood still dripped from his hand.

she picked up a napkin and stepped toward him.

“you’re bleeding,” she said softly.

he looked at her for a moment like he hadn’t heard. then down at his fist.

“…it’s nothing.”

she gently reached for it anyway, dabbing the cuts.

he watched her.

not her hand. not the cloth.

her.

“you always fight like that?” she asked, voice quiet.

his jaw twitched.

“only when they deserve worse.”

her eyes flicked up. “you think he did?”

his lips curved, slow. “you don’t?”

she hesitated, then shook her head. “i didn’t say that.”

his grin widened just slightly. “good.”

a pause.

“you really didn’t want me to stop, did you?” he added, voice low, nearly teasing.

her breath caught. “that’s not what i—”

“i could tell.” his eyes glinted, dangerous but amused.

her face flushed, and she looked away, trying not to smile.

“you’re messed up,” she muttered.

“i know,” he said. “you don’t seem to mind.”

the corner of her lip twitched despite herself.

he stepped back, turned toward the door. the moment hung too long, the space still too charged.

but then he stopped just before the threshold.

and he looked back.

his breaths were deep now. measured. like he’d been holding something in the whole time.

his gaze wasn’t teasing anymore.

not wild. not cruel.

just… focused. unreadable.

something flickered in it—something that didn’t belong in a boy who enjoyed breaking people. ✶ ᶻz .ᐟ , ??

[rainsoughtflowers]

hello!! I want to make a request ; is it alright if you can write about how seong je would be with a mute!reader? i just think it’d be an interesting dynamic ..! hmm other details i’d add is the reader often giving affection in a form of gifting (letters mayb?), cooking him a meal or quality time :) you may write this in whatever format you want!! thank youu and have a nice week (ps love your writing)

synopsis — seongje is a whirlwind of noise and chaos, but he finds unexpected peace in your silence.

now playing — sweet - cigarettes after sex pairing — geum seongje x gn!reader (hard of hearing, selectively mute) genre — hurt/comfort, slowburn, angst with soft moments, unconventional romance (nothing is conventional with seongje) cw — ableism/mocking of hearing disability, bullying, violence (including implied offscreen physical assault), power imbalance, toxic behavior, minor blood/bruising, strong language wc — ~2.1k

note: this was a pleasure to write <3 i hope i did ur request justice, anon. and please do not hesitate to tell me if i wrote something wrong or inaccurate to the experiences of hoh individuals.

masterlist | join the taglist | 400 follower event

seongje doesn’t do “quiet.” he doesn’t do subtlety, either. his entire existence is loud—his presence is a storm that makes everything feel tense and unpredictable. that’s how he’s known: the unpredictable, impulsive force, the mad dog. so, when he sees you for the first time, it’s almost like a challenge.

you’re sitting there, silently, in the bowling alley, a forced audience to the bullying happening around you. the union’s delinquents have gathered, sneering as they taunt you. they wave your hearing aids in front of you like a sick joke, expecting you to react. but you don’t. you’re quiet, your face unreadable, eyes glued to the floor, trying to stay as small as possible, like you’ve done countless times before. it’s a game for them, nothing more than a way to make you feel like an outsider.

“hey, freak, what’s wrong? can’t hear us?” one of them mocks, swinging your hearing aids back and forth with a smirk.

the noise is deafening to you in a different way—a slow, rising pressure in your chest. you want to speak, to make them stop. but your voice won’t come, and the words you want to say die in your throat, replaced by that quiet ache of helplessness.

that’s when seongje steps in.

he’s not supposed to be there. he’s supposed to be in baekjin’s office, probably arguing or being a general pain in the ass—but the noise coming from the alleyway catches his attention. he comes striding out, a curse on his lips as he surveys the scene, his eyes lighting up with the familiar flash of anger.

“what’s with all the fucking noise, fuckers?!,” seongje shouts, his voice dripping with disdain as he eyes the delinquents, but his gaze lands on the one holding your hearing aids, who freezes up as soon as he realizes who’s standing in front of him.

“aww, you guys are really fucking pathetic,” seongje steps forward, his mood shifting from bored to dangerous in an instant. he slaps the delinquent’s face, knocking the hearing aids out of his grip, and catches them before they hit the floor.

the delinquent stumbles back, startled, and seongje doesn’t miss the way his bravado slips. “hey, if you want to get your ass kicked, i’ll be happy to oblige. otherwise, get the fuck out of here,” seongje growls, and his voice carries an unmistakable warning.

the delinquents scatter quickly, realizing they’re not really looking forward to get beat up by the wolf himself. seongje watches them leave with a bored smirk, but his eyes return to you, where you’re still sitting silently, your gaze downcast. his anger bubbles under the surface, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at you—it’s more frustration at how they treated you. and, maybe… it’s confusion. because why would he be frustrated?

he despises those who put on a front, acting all tough and dominant when they're around someone they know is weaker, but turn into cowards the moment they face someone like seongje. the hypocrisy makes him sick—they don’t even have the balls to face him.

you look up at him then, your lips parting as if to say something, but the words stay locked inside. seongje stares back, a little too long, before he gestures to the now-empty bowling alley with a roll of his eyes.

“shit, it’s way too quiet in here now,” seongje mutters, half to himself. “i need a fucking drink. you coming?” his fist reaching out to you, making you flinch, but he simply turns and opens his palm to reveal your hearings aids, offering it back to you, his gaze not even meeting yours.

you hesitate, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. seongje doesn’t wait for a reply. he knows how this works—he doesn’t need words from you to tell if you’re okay. you’ve already said more than enough with that silence of yours.

it’s a few weeks later when seongje starts to notice something he wasn’t expecting—something soft. you’re not the type to speak, but you show him things. you leave him little letters. they’re simple at first, just words on paper—carefully written, neat and soft. but each one has meaning. you might leave him a note after a chaotic day, telling him, thank you for helping me today—a gesture he’s not used to.

seongje can’t stop himself from reading them over and over, even if he pretends they don’t matter. he tosses the first one aside in an exaggerated motion, but later, when he’s alone, he pulls it out again, trying to make sense of it. there’s something oddly comforting in your words. something real. his usual sharpness dulls just a little when he reads them.

it’s a typical night, and you don’t expect anything to go wrong. seongje has always been unpredictable, but you can’t stop yourself from trusting him. there’s a strange sort of understanding between the two of you now. he doesn’t need you to speak, and you don’t need him to be anything but… himself. still, you don’t expect what happens when he calls you to meet him in a parking lot late one evening.

the dim light from the streetlamps makes the whole place feel cold and detached. you spot him standing there, leaning against the hood of a car, his eyes narrowing slightly when he sees you approach. but there’s something different tonight—something unsettling in his stance.

"come here," seongje says, his voice almost too casual for the tense atmosphere.

your breath catches in your throat as the boy on his knees comes into focus. you've seen him around before—he’s one of the delinquents from the union. the same one who’d been taunting you in the bowling alley, waving your hearing aids like some cruel joke. that memory hits you sharply, and your stomach churns with discomfort as you recognize him now, his face bruised and bloodied, a lip split open, looking like he’s been through hell.

but why is he here? why is he on his knees, shaking in front of seongje? what happened to him?

seongje stands over him, his posture casual, his grin wide and wicked as he watches the boy with almost bored amusement. he kicks the delinquent’s side lightly, like it’s a game, and the boy flinches.

"come on, kid," seongje says, his voice teasing but edged with something darker, something almost amused by the kid’s fear. "just like we practiced."

the delinquent on his knees doesn’t speak, his eyes downcast, probably too terrified to even look up at seongje, but his shaky hand lifts. you watch as he tries to make the "a" handshape, his fingers clumsy as he attempts to sign. seongje looks down at the boy, his grin stretching wider as he watches him fumble.

the delinquent hurriedly completes the sign, his hands shaking, his breath coming in short bursts as he struggles to perform it correctly. he spins his hand in a half-hearted clockwise motion, and you can tell how hard it is for him to even try. he looks humiliated, and maybe that’s what seongje wants—to make him feel small, to show that he’s the one in control now. like how the boy probably felt back in the bowling alley with you.

“sorry.” he signed.

as the boy finishes, seongje pats his shoulder with an almost affectionate thud, a grin still plastered on his face. “good job,” he mutters, voice dripping with mock praise. but his eyes flick to you, then back to the delinquent, as if waiting for some kind of reaction.

the delinquent scrambles to his feet, not daring to say a word, but you can see the fear still fresh in his eyes. without another glance, he stumbles off into the shadows of the parking lot, and seongje doesn’t follow him, not bothering with any more theatrics. “now that’s how you apologize,” he sighs contentedly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as he walks back to where you two came from.

you don’t respond, but you follow him. because, despite everything—despite how messed up all of this is—he’s still the one who, somehow, happened to feel like the safest person to be around. despite his… unique antics.

despite the way he does things no one else would dare to. because even if he’s rough around the edges, unpredictable and loud, seongje never made you feel small. and that, weirdly enough, was enough.

seongje’s desk at the bowling alley becomes a quiet sort of shrine to you—littered with your letters and notes, half-crumpled from him rereading them over and over. he never bothers to clean it up. they’re scattered across the surface like leaves in a storm, but he knows exactly where each one is. it’s an organized mess, chaotic in the same way he is. but if anyone even looks at them too long—tries to pick one up, makes a joke about the handwriting, even breathes too close to the edge of his desk—they’re basically asking for a death wish.

“touch it and you die,” he’ll mutter without even looking up, one foot kicked up on the desk, cigarette dangling from his lips. it’s not even a threat—it’s a promise.

somewhere in between the late night meetups—where the world is quiet and it’s just the two of you—and the stolen moments in back rooms lit by vending machine glow, seongje softens. not in a way that’s obvious to most, but in ways you catch. like when he plays bowling with you late at night at the union headquarters, just the sound of pins crashing echoing through the empty lanes. he’s terrible at it, but he doesn’t care. he would fair better hitting someone at the back of the head with these bowling balls. he only really lights up when it’s your turn.

you roll the ball, knock down every pin, and before you can even react, he’s throwing his hands in the air, exaggeratedly signing applause, a wide grin stretching across his face.

“that’s what i’m fucking talking about!” he shouts, clapping loudly on top of the sign for applause he just made, just because he’s still him—loud, obnoxious, impossible—but now he’s loud for you.

yeah… to seongje, you’re like a stray puppy at first. small, quiet, following him around without saying a word, eyes always wide and watching. at first, he thinks it’s kinda funny—endearing, even. you don’t talk back, don’t flinch when he’s loud, and you’ve got this habit of showing up with little notes or food like some soft, strange ritual he doesn’t understand. he starts calling you “puppy” just to mess with you, ruffling your hair whenever you come around.

but somewhere along the way, that fondness stops being just a game. no, you’re not a pet to seongje. but maybe, you became an equal.

he starts waiting for your notes. starts leaving his office door slightly cracked, just in case you come by. he catches himself watching you instead of his phone. gets weirdly pissed off when other people so much as look at you wrong.

and the night he realizes it’s different—that it’s not just him babysitting some quiet kid—it’s when you sign “stay” with soft hands after a long night, and he does. no grumbling, no jokes, just settles next to you and doesn’t leave.

after that, it’s not a question. you’re not a puppy. you’re his person.

and yeah, maybe he never said you were dating. but everyone knows. you leave your food in the union’s fridge, your letters in his desk, your comfort in the chaos of his life. and he protects you, respects you, listens to your silence more than he’s ever listened to anyone’s voice. and no one in the union dares to bring it up or even question your soft presence in the nitty gritty bowling alley.

seongje is loud. like, really fucking loud. he talks with his whole body, yells when he's annoyed, laughs like he owns the air around him, and never knows when to shut up. he's noise and motion and chaos wrapped in one, dangerously sharp-edged boy. but you—you're quiet. not just in voice, but in presence. you move gently, offer kindness without demanding attention, speak in ways that don’t need sound.

and somehow, in all the noise of his world, your silence is the only thing that ever made sense. he used to think silence was empty, but now it’s where he finds comfort. he’s still loud, still volatile, still the type to throw a punch first and maybe ask questions never. but now there’s this... softness around the edges. a space he carves out just for you. like you’re the eye of the storm, and he’s always, always circling back to you.

in your quiet, he feels understood. and maybe that's the wildest thing about this whole mess—that a boy made of sound found peace in someone who never had to say a word.

note: aaa i feel like this so short >><< i wanted to give them more of a backstory but for now this is what i’m going with. if you’d like to see more of them that’d be nice 🫶 this is such a different take from collarless tho, and it’s nice to also write a softer character to contrast our tough collarless!reader to explore more dynamics with seongje.

i don’t aim to reform or soften seongje, but have the peaceful presence of the reader be incorporated into his life without changing his ideals and personality.

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[rainsoughtflowers]

hi hi hii !!! how r uuu?? just dropped by to say—LOVELY MELODY’S FINAL CHAPTER??? UU SNAPPEDDD 🫦🫦🫦 i loveeee it (≧◡≦) i thought i’m getting my heart broken again just like ur chishiya fics :(( i’m also looking forward to ur upcoming fics (stuck between lifesaver and heartache) but yk me… i’ll always be a kyung jun sucker hehe <(￣︶￣)>

hello my darling!! i’ve been doing pretty good. a little stressed due to finals, but i’m almost done with school, so that means more time to write hehe.

i’m happy you enjoyed the last chapter!! it made me so sad to finish it, but i hope it helped heal your hearts. i try not to torture my characters too much (chishiya on the other hand,,,oopsies)

i’m super excited to write lifesaver!! that’s the fanfic that ended up winning the vote, so i’ve started drafting out the storyline. and surprise!! i’m also writing the geum seongje fanfic!! i figured they are both within the same universe, so i might as well. they are also relatively short stories (at least compared to lovely melody) so it should be simple to finish. i hope you like them!! and i hope you’re doing well. i love you and take care of yourself!!

[rainsoughtflowers]

hi all my lovely weak hero class one fans. i’m writing two new stories because i simply can’t get enough of this drama. if you’re interested in kang woo-young or geum seung-je, please check out my profile!!

[rainsoughtflowers]

hi! i love, love, love your writing. it's so hard to find genuinely good fics of kyungjun (which is why i'm writing my own rn lmao), but thank god for you. you had me hooked while i was reading your works omg. keep up the amazing work! ^_^

THANK YOUUU I LOVE YOU AAAHHHHH the lack of content physically hurt me so i had to take one for the team to feed the community. i’m sososo happy you liked it :3 ALSO LET ME KNOW WHERE TO READ YOUR FIC SO I CAN SUPPORT 🙏🙏

[rainsoughtflowers]

hellooo !! it’s me again :DD just dropping by to say i still can’t move on with how u write sooo well 😩😩 lovely melody has me in a CHOKEHOLDDDD 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

hope u’re doing well, stay safe !!! 💐

HELLO!!! great to see you drop by :3 i’m glad you’re loving the story so far!! it’s almost done too which makes me sososo sad but i’m excited to share all my other stories with you guys hehe (especially more cha woomin characters) AND IM DOING VERY WELL i’m registering for my fall classes and doing some work but nothing crazy. i love you and stay safe!!