#baek angst

[tokoyan]

- Six years too late.

pairing: na baekjin x reader

Warning: none, just angst

word count: 1,050

a/n: baekjin genuinely needs more fics!! like i can imagine all the angst fics that need to be made asap 😭 or fluff idk my man just needs a break fr 💔

pt1 // pt2 // pt3

gif credit: @goyurim

It’s been six years.

Six years since he was in elementary school.

Six years since he last saw you.

Back then, you were one of the only people who talked to him—who cared for him. You made an effort to know him, even though he was quiet and withdrawn. Before he realized it, he had developed a small crush on you.

But just before you were both about to enter high school, you suddenly broke the news: you were transferring to another school. At first, he tried to act like it wasn’t real—that you weren’t actually going to leave. But when you did, he missed you more than he ever thought he would.

Now it breaks his heart to see you standing next to Baku, laughing, giggling, wrapped in each other’s arms.

He was on his way back to the Union bowling alley after school—like always—when he saw a group of students walking ahead in Eunjang school uniforms. He was ready to ignore them and keep walking until something caught his eye.

That red sweater.

Of course. Only one person he knew would wear something like that—Baku.

He had always wanted to consider Baku a friend. They’d known each other for a long time. But with everything going on between Union and Eunjang, he didn’t even know what they were anymore. Friends? Rivals? He wasn’t sure if Baku even still saw him as a friend anymore.

He noticed Baku with his arm around a girl. He didn’t think much of it—until he looked again.

---

You were walking beside Baku, Sieun, Gotak, and Juntae, heading toward a shop just to hang out. Then you felt someone’s eyes on you. You turned around.

A tall guy wearing a uniform from a nearby school, you didn't think much of it and almost looked back.

And then you saw his eyes.

You stopped walking. Baku looked at you, confused, and noticed the tears forming in your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, following your gaze.

The others turned around too.

It was Na Baek Jin.

The same Baek Jin from years ago. The same boy you used to sit with during lunch. The one who barely talked but always listened. The one you never forgot.

Of course, he recognized your face. How could he not? You were etched into his memory, whether he wanted you to be or not.

“…Baekjin?” you whispered, gently pushing Baku’s arm off your shoulder.

Baek Jin didn’t move. He didn’t speak. Just stood there, stunned.

The guys all looked confused, especially Baku.

“What the hell do you want?” Gotak asked sharply, stepping forward.

Baekjin didn’t respond.

Before Baku could ask how you knew him, you suddenly ran forward and wrapped your arms around Baekjin, resting your head against his chest.

“Do you remember me?” you asked, your voice trembling, your body shaking as tears ran down your face.

It took him a moment to respond, but then his hand landed gently on your back.

“Of course I do,” he said—calm, almost casual. But you knew. Deep down, he meant it.

Baku stood there, watching his girlfriend hug another guy. And not just any guy—an old friend of his.

You finally pulled away and looked up at Baekjin, searching his face. His features were still sharp. Still distant. But colder than you remembered.

You grabbed his hand, took your phone out of your bag, and placed it in his palm.

“My number,” you said. “Call me.”

You didn’t want to lose him again.

What you didn’t know was—he especially couldn’t lose you.

He silently pulled out his phone and saved your number. Still quiet. Was he shy? Nervous? Even he didn’t know.

“I’ll wait for your call,” you said, offering him a small smile before turning to rejoin the others.

You glanced back once more, just to see him again.

Baku hadn’t moved. He was still staring at Baekjin like a hawk, like he was watching someone try to take you from him.

“Hey, Baekjin,” Baku said suddenly.

You stopped in your tracks again.

“Baku, let’s just go,” you said, walking back to him and taking his arm, but he didn’t budge.

“I know you’re trying to drag Eunjang into your little Union thing,” Baku said, voice firm. “But don’t even think about using my girlfriend to do it.”

“Baku… come on,” you pleaded, trying to pull him away.

Girlfriend.

Of course you were his. Everyone could see it. But deep down… Baekjin hated that label.

Because he wasn’t the one who got to call you that.

Baekjin said nothing. He just turned and walked away like Baku’s warning didn’t matter.

But it did.

He wanted you. He didn’t want to lose you again.

He couldn’t.

Even after all these years, you were still the same kind-hearted angel to him.

And now?

He wants you.

He needs you.

And Baku won’t stop him.

[omiomi]

Master list

Part 2

Code Red: Unfinished Sutures (Part 3)

Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

Baek Kang-Hyuk couldn’t sit still.

Every second that passed felt like a needle digging into his skin, sharp and relentless. He had already snapped at Jae-Won, sent Gyeong-Won on a useless errand, and made Jang-Mi so uncomfortable with his pacing that she left the tent entirely.

None of it helped.

She walked away, he reminded himself.

She was strong enough to walk away.

But that didn’t erase the image of her blood-streaked shoulder, the way she had clutched at it, the wince she had barely let slip before she bit it back.

Before he could think better of it, he was already pushing past the tent flaps.

—

Inside, Y/N sat on a cot, her jacket half-off as she struggled to reach her injured shoulder. The blood had soaked through her shirt, the dark stain spreading ominously across the fabric.

She didn’t look up when he entered. “Don’t start.”

Baek ignored her, crossing the space between them in two strides.

She flinched when his hands ghosted over her wound, but she didn’t pull away fast enough. His fingers brushed against the torn fabric, his touch gentle despite the storm raging behind his eyes.

“You’re bleeding,” he muttered, voice tight.

“No shit,” she shot back, breath hitching when she tried to shift.

Baek clenched his jaw and reached for the medical kit beside her.

“I can do it myself,” she said, but the exhaustion in her voice betrayed her.

He scoffed. “With what? Your other useless arm?”

She shot him a glare. “I don’t need your help.”

Baek’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he crouched in front of her, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“Let me,” he said, quieter this time. Not an order, not a challenge—just a simple request.

Y/N stared at him, expression unreadable. She could feel the heat of his presence, the warmth of his breath so close to her skin. The tension between them was suffocating, thick with something she didn’t dare name.

Finally, she exhaled and let her arm fall to her side.

Baek didn’t waste a second. His hands were steady as he cut away the blood-soaked fabric, his fingers lingering just a little too long against her bare skin. He worked in silence, the only sounds in the tent the rustling of bandages and the sharp inhales she couldn’t quite hold back.

“Aray.” (Ouch.)

“Tch.” He scoffed, tough in words, but his actions were much gentle now.

When he finished, his touch lingered a moment longer than necessary, his thumb brushing against her collarbone.

“Done,” he murmured.

Y/N swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away. “I told you I could handle it.”

Baek’s lips quirked into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yeah. And I told you I don’t listen.”

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, before she could say anything else, he stood up and walked out, leaving behind the warmth of his touch and the weight of something unspoken.

—

Baek doesn’t go far.

He meant to leave—to put distance between himself and the way her skin had burned under his touch, the way she let him take care of her despite every protest. But instead, he finds himself standing just outside the tent, fists clenched, heart hammering.

And then he hears it.

A sharp intake of breath. A muffled wince. The sound of fabric rustling as Y/N struggles to move.

Baek exhales through his nose and turns back.

He steps inside just in time to see her trying—and failing—to put her jacket back on.

“Seriously?” His voice is flat, but there’s an edge to it. “You’re injured, and you’re already making it worse?”

Y/N startles slightly, turning to face him. “What are you still doing here?”

Baek strides forward, plucking the jacket from her grasp before she can protest. “You’re being an idiot,” he mutters, shaking his head.

She glares at him. “And you’re being—”

Her words falter when he moves closer.

His fingers graze her arm as he helps ease the jacket onto her good shoulder, his touch careful but firm. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t meet her gaze—just focuses on the task like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N swallows. Her throat feels dry.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she murmurs.

Baek’s hands still for just a second before he continues. “And yet, here I am.”

She exhales sharply. “Baek—”

“You didn’t even let me check if the bullet grazed bone,” he cuts her off, his voice quieter now, rougher. “You walked away like it didn’t matter.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “Because it doesn’t.”

His jaw tightens. “Bullshit.”

Y/N finally looks at him then, and the intensity in his gaze nearly knocks the breath out of her.

For a second, she thinks he might say something—something dangerous, something neither of them are ready for.

But then, footsteps echo outside the tent, and Jae-Won’s voice rings out.

“Dr. Baek!“

Baek hesitates. Just for a second.

Then, without another word, he turns and leaves.

And Y/N is left standing there, jacket half-on, pulse unsteady, knowing that whatever just happened between them is far from over.

—

The night air was thick with smoke and blood, but Y/N barely noticed.

She should be inside, resting, but instead, she stood just beyond the tents, staring at the ruins in the distance.

She knew he’d come. He always did.

“I told you not to be out here,” Baek’s voice cut through the darkness.

Y/N didn’t turn around. “You always tell me what to do, Malak.”

He exhaled sharply, stepping closer. “And you never listen.”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “Not to you.”

Silence. The space between them was filled with ghosts.

Finally, Y/N spoke again, her voice quieter. “You always find me.”

Baek stared at her. “And you always walk away.”

She did turn then, looking up at him, exhaustion written into the lines of her face. “No, Malak. That’s you.”

Baek stiffened.

“You always leave,” she murmured.

“Every time, without fail. You show up when it’s convenient, patch things up like you’re fixing a patient, and then disappear before the bleeding even stops.”

His fingers twitched at his sides. “You think I wanted to leave?”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted.” Her voice wavered, but she didn’t back down. “It’s what you did.”

Baek swallowed hard, something raw flickering in his gaze. “I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” she whispered.

And for a second, the weight of her words pulled them both under.

Because Baek Kang-Hyuk left because he had to, but Y/N stayed because she didn’t know how to do anything else.

The pattern repeated. The story never changed.

But once—once, a lifetime ago—it had been different.

—

There had been no smoke, no ruins, no wreckage back then. Only steel hallways and dim lights, the ever-present hum of electricity running through the Black Wings base.

Y/N had been patching up her knuckles, muttering under her breath when Baek had walked in.

“What happened this time?” He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

She didn’t look up. “Sparring.”

“With who? A bear?”

She shot him a glare, but it softened when she saw the corner of his lips twitch.

Baek pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room in a few strides. He crouched beside her, reaching for her hand. She let him.

“I could’ve handled it,” she murmured.

“I know,” he said, not looking up as he carefully cleaned the wound.

The silence between them was comfortable. They had done this before—too many times to count.

She studied him as he worked. The way his brows furrowed, the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he was focused.

She felt it then—the ache of something unnamed, something bigger than both of them.

“Baek,” she said quietly.

He paused.

Y/N hesitated, then swallowed hard. “If I ever leave…”

His grip on her wrist tightened, just slightly. “You won’t.”

“But if I do,” she insisted. “Will you come after me?”

Baek finally looked up, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

“I’ll find you,” he said, like it was a promise.

And for a while, she believed him.

—

But the thing about promises was that they broke just as easily as bones.

Y/N stared at Baek now, in the ruins of a war they didn’t start but couldn’t escape.

And she realized something.

He did find her. Every single time.

But he never stayed.

She exhaled, the weight of the past pressing into her ribs.

“I should go,” she murmured.

Baek’s fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach for her but knew better.

“Y/N—”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, shaking her head. “Not this time.”

Part 4

I felt so unsure about this part! but i wanted to highlight the unspoken tension between them, and give a glimpse on their past! lmk how you guys felt abt this one, and what do you want to see in the next parts🥰 comment here if you want to be in the taglist!

[the-fic-locker]

The Widow | Part One

Pairing: Min Byungyu x f!reader x Baek Yoonho

Content Warning: character death, grief, mentions of blood, tears, loneliness

Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, slow burn

Summary: Yoonho never imagined that his best friend would keep such a monumental secret from him, but after his death, Yoonho is tasked with breaking the news to someone he has never met.

Word Count: 2,685

Author's Note: This has not been proofread, so I will be going back eventually and editing, however, this is also part of a series, so as parts come out, I will be trying to edit. I cannot guarantee how quickly parts will come out, nor how long this series will be exactly. Just bear with me and I hope you enjoy!

next | series info | masterlist

In hindsight, Yoonho supposed he really should have figured it out sooner. Byungyu’s distaste for battle wasn’t new, but the desire to join the contract sector as an average citizen was new, one he didn’t expect. The man’s financial situation was elite. He had participated in enough dungeons that he had a very lucrative bank account. He didn’t have to do anything. Though Yoonho supposed he couldn’t blame the man for wanting to do something with his life, though why he didn’t choose to go into the medical field was, well, confusing. 

When his best friend had denied him the first few times, it was understandable. Jeju Island had already claimed so many lives, including their best friends, but something had suddenly changed his mind. Yoonho didn’t think anything of it; he was just happy to have the talented healer with them. He should have asked more questions. 

“President Baek, exactly how much did you know about Min Byungyu’s situation?” Chairman Go had asked shortly after the fourth and final raid of Jeju Island. 

He should have been paying more attention, but his chest ached with grief, and his muscles were sore. Hunter Sung had managed to heal them somehow, but nothing could take away the stinging in his hands when his claws protruded. All he wanted to do was go home and crack a beer, and sit in the silence of his empty apartment he never had the time to fill with personal effects. He wanted to wallow in pity and self-hatred until a new day dawned and he had to go back to his guild and act like everything was ok; worse, to celebrate the enormous victory. 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, sir. He wanted to give up being a hunter all together and go work as a custodian in an office firm,” Yoonho had explained.

The look the Chairman had given him was diplomatic, but there was a twinge of something, perhaps sorrow, hidden behind his eyes. Yoonho had glanced up at Manager Jinchul Woo who was dutifully standing behind the chairman, but as always, the man was more difficult to read than thousand-year-old hieroglyphics written in decayed clay. 

“So you weren’t aware of his private and personal life?” Chairman Go asked, sounding surprised. 

There was another thing to be guilty over. He called himself Byungyu’s best friend, but he apparently didn’t know anything at all about him! He’d only ever been to the man’s apartment once, and he’d since moved. He hadn’t set foot in the new, larger place. He didn’t interact with the man all that much anymore, except for the occasional text, which was usually Byungyu sending him memes he’d respond to three days later. There was the occasional beer, but Yoonho had been so depressed after losing Eunseok in the third raid that he’d let Byungyu slip farther and farther from his mind. 

“Well, regardless,” Chairman Go sighed, seemingly disappointed. Even Jinchul seemed to be uncomfortable now, shifting his weight from one foot to the other restlessly. “We have a… less than comfortable task to handle. Typically, I’d send Jinchul, but he has been… hugged out… for a while and needs a break, plus he isn’t always as delicate as this situation requires.”

Yoonho wished the old man would get to the point so he could go home. He glanced up at Jinchul, who didn’t seem to care that he’d been called indelicate. Yoonho doubted there was anything about him that was delicate at all. And hugged out? What was that supposed to mean? 

As Yoonho was waiting for the chairman to finish his long-winded explanation, Jinchul disappeared, stepping out of the room to grab something off his desk before returning, holding a small, white box. 

“As you know, upon awakening, we take a memento from every Hunter to deliver back to the family of a fallen Hunter. Byungyu’s token was changed two years ago from a patch from his uniform, a typical token for a bachelor, into this.”

As Chairman Go finished, Jinchul opened the white box. Resting inside, on a white cushion, was a silver locket with a silver chain. There was something engraved upon the top, but Yoonho didn’t feel like using his heightened sight to strain to read it. 

“He has asked that this locket be delivered to the widow he’d be leaving behind, and we thought you should be the one to do it.”

The fact that his best friend was married and he had no clue was another punch to the gut, but what’s perhaps worse was thinking about the grieving woman in their apartment, waiting for her husband to come home. She would know that their helicopter had landed. She’d know that they’d won. She probably wouldn’t know about Byungyu’s death yet. The camera had evidently cut out by then. And now…

“Sir… respectfully… I can’t…” he mumbled, already feeling numb. 

Chairman Go pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in Yoonho’s hands. It was a letter, folded a few times on otherwise unremarkable paper. As Yoonho unfolded it, his hands shaking, he gasped as he found Byungyu’s handwriting scribbled as neatly as the man could. 

Yoonho, If you’re reading this letter, I can only assume it is because something happened and I have lost my life. First of all, don’t beat yourself up about it. Whatever happened, I’m sure I went out trying to protect my friends, and there is no better way in my book. However, now that I am gone, I am leaving you with a difficult task. I am sorry this has fallen to you.  I have a wife. Her name is (y/n). She pieced me back together after Eunseok’s death, and we got married a year later. I know this is a bomb to drop, and I tried to tell you, many times, but neither of us were in a good state at the beginning and as you feel deeper and deeper into your guild, using the work to keep you from actually feeling the sorrow, I moved on, and I didn’t think you’d understand.  Yoonho, being a Hunter is hard work and it’s messy. I have never regretted my decision to leave, but if something has pulled me back in, I know I died happily for you. Do not let my death pull you into another depression. This one might kill you. You were reckless enough as it is. I am not mad at you for however you pulled me back into the game. Do not let your mind convince your heart that I am. And don’t throw yourself into your work to punish yourself. That’s not doing anyone any favors. Instead, you can atone for my death (if you still feel like you need to) in two ways.  Take the locket and a letter back to my Jimin. Tell her how I died, she needs to know everything. Comfort her. She worries a lot and has habits similar to your own. Don’t let her kill herself through her work. Be there for each other. Stop trying to take the blame for everyone else's decisions. We all make our own. You have never forced anyone to do anything. We make decisions based on your words sometimes, but they are still our decisions. Stop letting yourself be convinced that you’re a god who mind-controls everyone else into doing your bidding. Everything I have ever done has been of my own volition.  I wish you the best in this life, Yoonho. Don’t be afraid to let yourself live life and find love. Hunters are constantly busy, but you can have it all. You can be a Hunter and a life. It’s time for them to stop being one in the same.  I will see you on the other side, my friend.  Love,  Byungyu

The letter had tears pricking to the corners of his eyes and he finally understood the smile Byungyu had given him as Jinwoo had released his shadow. He clenched the letter tightly as looked up at the chairman, only nodding once. He’d watched as Chairman Go fished out the second letter and then he was dismissed, locket and letter tucked inside the same box in his shaking hands as he made his way to the car and punched in the address he’d been given. 

So here he was, standing in the hallway of the apartment building he’d been directed to, staring at the plain white door that matched all the others, reading the number from Jinchul’s text for the third time to be absolutely sure he was at the right door. 

He could hear movement inside and music. There was the occasional clang of something hard slamming into something else that almost made his skin crawl. He wanted to cut tail and run, to pretend this wasn’t happening, but his arm seemed to act on its own as it raised and knocked firmly. 

The music stopped and he could hear bare feet padding across the floor to the door, his ears picking the sound up easily. He heard the door unlock, and a second later, it was pulled open, revealing his best friend's widow dressed in sweatpants and a stained t-shirt. 

“Baek Yoonho?” your voice was full of confusion. He couldn’t blame you. 

“You know who I am?” he asked. 

“Of course,” you said, wiping your soapy hands on your pants. “Gyu has so many pictures of you and Eunseok all over this place. It sometimes feels like a shrine,” you chuckle softly. 

“How can I help you? Is Gyu ok? He hasn’t come home yet and by the look of you, you all just got back.”

“Can I come inside?” Yoonho spoke, voice soft. 

“Uh yeah sure,” you hold the door open wider. 

He stepped through, admiring the place. The door opened into the front room, living room, where there was a paused Spotify playlist casting from the television. There were slightly mismatched couches pointed at the television, the longer of the two was a thick, plush burnt orange, and the other, smaller one gray with a blanket thrown over the back of it. There was a coffee table with books stacked up on one side and a vase with a handful of roses on the other side. As you led him to the couches, he could see the kitchen from a serving counter window with three bar stools on the end. Inside the kitchen, he could see a strainer full of wet dishes and the sink full of soapy water with a washcloth perched on the side, likely discarded when he’d knocked. 

You motioned for him to sit on the orange couch while you sat down on the gray one, folding your hands into your lap and looking at him expectantly. 

Yoonho’s hands began to shake, and the box in his pocket suddenly felt like it was scorching his skin. He clasped his hands together, trying to hide the way they quavered. 

“Mr. Baek… Where is my husband?” Your voice was quiet, but his accelerated hearing could pick up on the way it cracked on the final word. 

“He…” Yonho had to clear his throat and blink away the tears that threatened to gather. “He didn’t make it… He died… trying to protect me,” his voice came out hoarse and broken in a half-choked sob. 

You were quiet momentarily, processing what he’d just said. When you finally spoke, your voice was strong but uneven. 

“Did he suffer?”

Yoonho tried to think back. Had he? When he saw that things arm go through him… all he could see was blind rage. 

“Not for long. It was over quickly. But he managed…” he swallowed. Should he tell you that his soul saved someone? No. Probably not. And he promised Jinwoo to keep that confidential anyway. “He managed to save one more life before… he was truly gone.”

He looked up into your face. You had silent tears streaming down your cheeks and made no move to brush them away. Your bottom lip trembled, and your chest heaved with labored breathing. 

“I’m not sure if you’re aware… but when becoming a Hunter under the Association, they provide the Association a token in the event they don’t make it back from a raid. This was his,” reaching into his pocket, Yoonho pulled out the box and opened it, placing it on the coffee table. 

You took out the letter on top first and, using his abilities, if against his will, he was able to read the message her husband had left for her. 

My Love,  If you are reading this, I have left you alone in this life and in this world and for that, I am truly sorry. Please understand that if I died in a raid, it was because I will always be there to back up Yoonho and to protect him from himself. He isn’t the best at patiently waiting for the right time to strike, and if no one else is there to back him up when he pounces, I will always be there.  Yoonho scoffed at that. ‘Pounces.’ He wasn’t a cat! He didn’t pounce! Please understand and don’t hate him for it. It was not his fault.  Let him be there for you. You’re going to need to lean on each other. Don’t let the grief drag you down. And don’t let him blame himself.  You both meant so much to me. Know that though I died protecting him in battle, I died protecting you back home. I could not go on living without you and I know that is unfair since that is exactly what I am asking of you. Be strong and move on. Don’t let my death hold you back from living your life.  We will-

You put the letter down before Yoonho could finish reading and buried your face in your hands to cover the wails that left your lips. Yoonho wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was Byungyu’s letter to him, maybe it was the fact that he’d always hated seeing women cry. Whatever the reason, he found himself moving onto the gray couch beside you and placing his hand on your back, stroking it soothingly. He wasn’t expecting you to lean into him, burying your face in his side. It took him a second to respond, but when he did, he held you against his side securely and continued to rub your back. 

You sat like that for a while. You sobbing and Yoonho comforting you in any way he knew how. When your shoulders finally stopped shaking, and you shifted against him, he loosened his hold, allowing you to sit back up. Your eyes were red and bloodshot, but you looked back to the table where the box with the locket still sat. 

Picking up the box, you examined it before lifting it out of the box and opening the locket. There, resting in the two tiny frames, was a picture of  Byungyu giving his most dazzling smile, dressed in his Hunter’s uniform with dirt stained on his cheek. It was an image taken shortly after the first raid under the White Tiger’s guild. The second was you and Byungyu holding onto one another on your wedding day, looking at each other with gazes full of love. 

A sob left your throat as you closed the locket and passed the necklace to Yoonho. 

“Help me put it on,” you said.

Taking it, you turned your back to him and lifted your hair. Yoonho slid the locket around your neck and carefully clasped it in the back. When it was secure, you let your hair fall over the chain and looked down at the jewelry resting on your shirt. 

“Now I guess I have two tokens from him,” you whispered. 

Yoonho was going to ask what you meant until he watched you place your hand on your belly, a sad smile spreading across your face. Yoonho had never felt so sick. 

[trendingdrama]

KIM SOO HYUN as BAEK HYUN WOO in QUEEN OF TEARS 눈물의 여왕 (2024)

[yutassweetangel]

Hurt Dohwa x Reader? like in that one scene- tw: topless? not smut just spice💍. If you are alr with iittt?🙏

AHHHHHH I'LL WRITE IT RN I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS IN MA HEAD I hope you mean that scene where su-ae helps dohwa get up and shi-

Another song becuz why not

Warnings: A little spice not smut, curse words,angst?, fluff, 13+, brother's best friend trope (ik it's cliché leave me alone)

Characters included: Dohwa baek, (name) /y!n

It's been two weeks since you last saw or even heard of dohwa. Was he ok? How long could he be sick for? You came to the conclusion that he was sick, but it didn't seem like it.

One day, the teacher tells you to help give him his homework, since you were the last person in the class to do so. You walk into a shabby looking apartment and the only thing in your head was: did dohwa really live here? You head from some people that he lived in some fancy apartment residence, and this was far from the theory that your classmates and other students had.

You climbed the stairs of the apartment complex, walking to the given number which was most likely dohwa's apartment before you felt a warm hand on your shoulder-despite the thick uniform, you could still feel his warmth. You turn around to be faced with none other than dohwa baek. "Dohwa?" You called out to him, you his face in which he relaxed at your touch, placing his hand on top yours on. He had multiple injuries on his face, who hurt him? You realise his legs were wobbling and before you knew it, he fell done on top of you. "Oh god..."

——————————————————————————————————————

Eventually, you make it to his room and place his body on his bed. You fleet his forehead, only to find out he was burning hot, so you rushed to make some of your mom's signatures chicken soup.

Whilst you did so, Dohwa woke up and sat up and looked at you from across the kitchen and came back and immediately told him to rest back.

"Nuh uh. Go back to resting."

You kind of scolded and he chuckles, before doing so.

"Arent you going to feed me though?"

He asked, causing you to blush. You didn't know if he wasn't being for real or if it was just to tease you.

"Why would I do that? What ideas do you-"

You get interrupted by dohwa chuckling lightly. "I can barely move silly."

SILLY? You'd try to calm yourself down in this type of situation normally, but this was dohwa freaking baek! I mean you didn't like him. He was just your brother's best friend, but it didn't help that he was so attractive.

"Ah- i.. Didn't know. I'll get you some more pillows-"

Before you could get up, dohwa pulls you back into a hug.

"Dohwa what are you-"

"Shh.. I'm cold."

It didn't feel like it though. Right now, he was pipping hot. If he wanted he could challenge a volcano if he wanted.

"Stop playing around-"

"But I'm not." He whinces before speaking up again.

"[name], I like you... And I... Don't know if this is the best way to say I, but.."

He pauses for a moment almost to wait for you to take it all in. Whether it was the sickness speaking or genuinely just him, it didn't stop your heart from fluttering.

"I.. Like you too.. Dohwa."

Dohwa tries to sit up again, this time with you on his lap and pulls you in for a kiss. At first, this surprised you, but you accepted it and made the kiss deeper. More passionate. More meaningful. It all fel unreal, but the kiss was. It felt like you were burning with passion and love. Your tongues met each other and intertwined like two ropes that were separated. It's like you two were two puzzles meant to be pieced together. You held dohwa's cheeks as he slid his arms around your back. You two were already so close, but it felt like you could get closer. Soon, you both let go to gasp for some air.

"I... " You try to make words, but you couldn't. No words could describe what just happened.

"Your so ethereal you know?" Dohwa said as he brushed a stand of your hair away from your face.

"What-"

"I didn't mean to kiss you... Now you'll get sick because of me." You saddened at his words. You weren't happy with the fact that he felt that.

"I don't care if I do. That kiss was worth a million life times." Dohwa's eyes widened at your word and a tear went down his face.

"Thank you.."

"Dohwa.. How did you..." You touched his face with his injuries and bruises. He took your hand and held it, squeezing it before looking at you with hurt eyes.

"Oh. If your comfortable with telling me-"

"No, no. You deserve to know. It's... Just a little complicated."

He looked away from your eyes and you knew it was going to be hard for him to open up. You cupped his face wit both your hands to allow him to look you in the eye again.

"When things are less complicated or when you want to tell me. I'll always be here. Waiting. Because that's what love is about."

Dohwa's eyes widen again before he pulled you in for a quick peck on your lips, but it sent shivers down your spine.

"I... I can't describe how much I love you."

"Drink your soup before it gets cold stupid." He chuckled at your words before you grabbed the spoon and said "ahh" which he shook his head to, but opened his mouth anyways.

———————————————————————————————————————

You two cuddled up in his single bed when your phone started to ring. You rubbed your eyes before picking it up.

"[Name] where the hell are you?!" The persons voice rose from the end of the line.

"Huh what- oh shit!" You quickly sat up and started to pack your bags and listen to your mother's rant about how she was worried sick, but before you left you kissed dohwa on his forehead before closing the door, looking at him lovingly.

———————————————————————————————————————

I wanted to write some cringey end note but refrained from doing so XD I hope you enjoyed regardless. I don't know if this is counted as spicy, but I think it is. I don't know how I had motivation to write this and not the hurt volleyball one XD I still need ideas

[my-crown-is-covered-in-blood]

Okay, let's remember our Litlle Office Shenanigans from the earlier episodes BECAUSE I NEED THAT

Imagine if one of her coworkers started acting rude to her because of her alleged relationship with Baek Sa Eon, and it looked like this:

Random Interpreter: who are you? why does he care so much about you? are you sleeping with him?

Hee Joo: I wish I could

Random Interpreter: what?

Hee Joo: what?

[aweirdoswritting]

The fragile heart of a warrior

Chung myung was confused.

Chung myung could not stop the tears rushing down his face.

His voice broke and a wept came through, his his heart unable to stay quiet.

It was as if every emotion he had beat down deep into his heart came rushing out all at once.

Chung myung could not breathe.

He heaved and heaved but it was as if the oxygen escaped him every breath he took.

He clutched onto anything he could- the table toppled to the floor with him, Empty alcohol bottles breaking at the impact.

He squeezed the cloth around his heart, feeling the embroidery of the mount hua symbol.

He was no longer in the past.

So why does his senses betray him!

He wasn’t in war anymore, and everyone from that wretched war was long gone.

Yet he could not stop the gut-wrenching sobs that came as he curled into himself.

His voice shattered, unable to contain the cries in between shallow breaths.

It was as if the burden he had been carrying all the sudden felt too heavy, it came crashing down on him- crushing his lungs.

The collar of his Robes and the floor under him were soaked with tears.

Chung myung could not stop the sobs that made him retch with the itch to vomit everything in his body.

So you could not blame the scream that occurred as the disciples rushed in, not caring about the broken door.

The five swords could be seen surrounding him, but Chung myung could not greet them.

The lack of oxygen made his vision blurry. His limps had long lost any strength he had in his body, he could feel someone’s arms wrapping around him- he wanted to push off whoever it was but he couldn’t.

Sahyung. Sajil. Bo-ya.

I’m sorry.

I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t keep my promise.

{….}

A sad but firm voice could be heard, though only Chung myung heard him.

{Chung myung,do not blame yourself.}

The retched sobs all the sudden stopped as the young man was unconscious- his body unable to hold the sorrow that had spilled into his every sense. Yet in his sleep the tears did not stop.

The disciples around him stared at the scene wide eye, some holding back tears as they watched baek cheon bringing their youngest into his arms, hugging the unconscious Chung myung whose eyes still spilled precious tears, tears that might as well be rarer than an expensive jewel.

All the sudden Chung myung seemed like an old man that had carried too many burdens in his life. His shoulders were small and heavy as he breathed- his breaths becoming softer as he fell into sleep.

The room fell into a silence, the only sound that could be heard was Chung myung’s soft breathing as the tears finally stopped.

You could hear the fabric rustling of baek cheon’s clothes as he hugged Chung myung tighter.

As if he couldn’t believe the scene Infront of him.

He held on tightly, as if letting go would shatter the fragile jar all over again—its broken pieces barely held together by cheap tape. The heavy burdens inside pressed against the cracks, threatening to spill and break it completely.

[xiaoguiii]

“i envy him…

you’ll never forget him…

the best and de worst for you… i wish it was me”

[jcpostsobsessions]

No don’t say that. With your short time left you might as well live your life in happiness!

They’re both like gorgeous, I mean with this sunlight, are you kidding me?? I can watch them all day. Hyun woo’s pained face and Haein’s tough expression, but we know she’s breaking on the inside.

[enihk-writes]

[forget-me-not]

pairing: jing yuan x gn!reader

summary: he likes to meditate a lot, to calm himself and keep himself sane from all the sorrows he has been through thus far. and it seems the general has never been one to remember personal tragedies.

word count: 0.89k

author's note: i saw that one tweet about him forgetting snowmoon supposedly if you ask him about it,,, i went crazy and also lost my consciousness. bone apple teeth yall.... this was made in 30 minutes.

═══════════════

jing yuan has known you since you were both in diapers. studying together, playing together, falling asleep under the tree in his parent's garden, tired from running away from your teachers to skip class together —

anything you could think of, the two children have experienced it together.

so when he announced to his family that he would be joining the cloud knights, and faced the harsh opposition, it only made sense that you would pack your things alongside him and leave with him during the night.

training was harsh and he'd often come back to the small room you both shared tired and exhausted. you were not fit for the military like he was, and frustrated with the circumstances, he had a fight and fell out with you. for the first time in his life thus far, he woke up and you weren't there.

he tells himself that he was fine, that he didn't need you to be him all the time. he wan't a baby anymore, he was a cloud knight! and cloud knights were cool and strong and capable and independent...

he wasn't really fine, spending days that turned to months and then years without you around. with no sight, no sound of you. he was wondering if you were just a figment of his imagination.

but things took a turn when his mentor, jing lu, took him to meet her friends. not really registering what she was saying about the kid her friend had taken in around his age until he was face-to-face with the person he'd thought he'd never see again.

baiheng, who had been eagerly watching this exchange chuckled gleefully, her hand slapping his back to snap him out of his daze.

ah-yuan, do you like the suprise?

he looks at her, stupified.

the foxian flashes him a lopsided grin, mentally cheering at her victory. you see, she had picked a certain lost child roaming on the streets with nothing but the clothes on their back and a small sack across their back, many years ago. the child was crying, still upset over an argument they had earlier with their best friend, and even more distraught over the overwhelming feelings of uselessness they had been feeling for a while.

baiheng's heart had ached for the little one, taking them under her wing and bringing them along her journeys as a nameless. you, who was once this lost child had now seen worlds past your skies and had long outgrown the juvenile skin you used to wear.

you stood before him, with the same face he had always remembered, but now carrying the aura of galaxies beyond his comprehension. despite this, you were still you, after all. and he talked to you like you had never left his side before.

somewhere along the way, your awkward reunion and cracked relationship was mended. the ground stood fertile for something new to bloom between the two of you. and as the vines of this new feeling wrapped around his heart, with tendrils sinking into the soft flesh, he feels that things have changed but stayed the same yet felt uncertain all at once at every turn of his relationship with you.

you looked at him a little differently too these days. and as you two toed the line of what you both were, the unasked question that hung in the air — will we or won't we cross over that line together?

jing yuan wasn't a patient man and was the first to step over the edge, falling into your space, filling your mind with his presence and taking your heart in his hands. he was yours, and maybe that was the fate that was set in stone all along, with you being the first one he chose as a baby as opposed to that sword he always told others he had picked.

your death was as sudden as it could have come. and it hurt more that you died not from age as a short-life species but from a freak accident. something, something about baiheng being turned into some chimera beast and mortally wounding you as you desperately called to whatever remnants of the woman you grew to love like a mother were left in the abomination.

when jing lu came back, a casket in tow, he could not bear to look inside it. a funeral was held for you and baiheng, and he didn't go. no one blamed him, no one looked for him either.

years pass, and more tragedies struck what was once the proud heroes of the high cloud quintet, from five to four to two and finally, it was just him that was left behind, yet again.

he's taken up to meditation, choosing to focus on better memories no matter how mundane so as to rest his heart from all that it's been through. every year as the memories mold and morph into each other, he picks out the bad ones like black spots in a bin of rice, and casts them out of his mind.

these days, there is a rumor of the general's old flame. someone found pages of a tattered exchange diary with the man in question and a nameless. though when march and the trailblazer asks him about it, he only hums and shrugs. not really knowing what they mean.

[colorfulrook]

Garden of Requests

My dear readers! First of all I want to thank you for the amazing support that you gave me in so little time, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Second, I have officially decided to open requests for scenarios mainly about Solo Leveling characters! I'm open for every kind of request, be it fluff, angst, spicy and all, if I can I will do it!

[tokoyan]

- A kiss you couldn't undo.

pairing: na baekjin x reader

warning: Cheating

word count: 1,624

pt1 // pt2 // pt3

gif credit: @cesowi

It’s been two weeks.

Two weeks since that moment with Baekjin.

That kiss.

And the worst part? You didn’t even hate it.

Every time you’re around Baku, it eats at you. The guilt. The shame. The way your stomach twists whenever he smiles at you like you're the only person in the world. “He’s too good for me,” is a thought that keeps showing up, uninvited, no matter how much you try to shove it away. But then—then there's that other part of you. The part that replays the kiss like a broken record. Over and over. Like your brain won’t let you forget what it felt like to be touched by someone else.

And maybe... maybe you did know why. But admitting it out loud felt like confessing to a crime you didn’t even mean to commit.

“Hello? You there?” Baku’s voice cuts through your thoughts like a knife. You blink, pulling yourself back to the present as he waves his hand in front of your face.

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” you mumble, trying to act like you weren’t completely spiraling two seconds ago.

“You’ve been zoning out a lot lately,” he says, frowning. “Is something wrong?”

You shake your head too quickly. “It’s nothing,” you say with a fake smile you hope he buys.

But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t.

“Y/N, c’mon,” he says gently, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and tugging you closer. “I know when something’s bothering you.”

You sigh. “Okay, fine… your birthday is coming up and I still have no idea what to get you,” you blurt, praying the lie is good enough.

He raises a brow, clearly not convinced, but lets it slide. “Honestly? Just get me anything. I don’t really care.”

Then, like he hasn’t just unknowingly walked into the middle of a storm, he leans in and places a soft kiss on your forehead. You melt a little—like always. Your head rests on his chest as you both watch some students kicking a football around the field.

“Okay then,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed, pretending—for just a second—that things are still perfect.

But they aren’t.

A week passes. It’s finally Baku’s birthday. Since it’s Saturday, you hadn’t seen him all day, aside from the “Happy birthday!!” text and sleepy phone call you sent that morning. You, Gotak, Sieun, and Juntae had all planned a surprise party at Gotak’s house since his parents weren’t home and he got the green light to host.

As the sun dips behind the horizon and the sky turns gold then purple, you guys text Baku and tell him to come over—but you don’t say why. He doesn’t ask many questions. Just says “Okay” and starts getting ready.

But right before he leaves the house, his phone buzzes.

It’s not from you. Not from any of the group chat people.

It’s an unknown number.

He hesitates, thumb hovering over the screen. Curiosity wins. It’s a voice message.

He clicks it.

Then he freezes.

Because it’s… your voice.

And what he hears next?

Feels like getting stabbed straight through the chest.

Back at Gotak’s house, you're all confused why Baku’s taking so long. But then there’s a knock at the door and your heart jumps. You grab the cake with the lit candles, standing right in front of the entrance, practically glowing with excitement.

Gotak opens the door.

You, Juntae, and Sieun yell in unison, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!”

The confetti bursts into the air.

But Baku just stands there.

Stone cold.

Not smiling.

Not reacting.

Just… staring at you.

“Yo… you good?” Gotak asks, lowering the party popper, confused.

“Y/N. Can we talk?” he says, eyes locked on yours, voice low and sharp.

Your stomach flips. You already know.

The kiss.

He knows.

“Yeah… sure,” you say, barely above a whisper. You put the cake down on the coffee table and follow him outside.

The second the door shuts behind you, the temperature drops ten degrees.

“Why?” he asks.

You stare at him. “...What do you mean, ‘why?’”

“I’ve only ever been good to you. So why?”

His voice breaks.

“Baku, I really didn’t me—”

“No. You did. Don’t lie to me.”

He pulls out his phone and presses play.

Your voice plays through the speaker.

Your heart drops to the floor.

How the hell did he get that? Baekjin. It had to be him.

“You kissed some guy behind my back and act like you love me?” Baku’s voice cracks again. His eyes glassy. “B-Baku, please, I really d—”

“Just stop,” he says, looking everywhere but at you now.

“Baku…”

“We’ll talk later,” he mutters, wiping at his face before walking back inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

You just stand there.

Alone.

In the cold.

And it hits you like a freight train.

You ruined it.

You start running. Running home. Face wet with tears. Your chest tight. You don’t even know if you’re crying more from guilt, heartbreak, or… Baekjin.

When you finally make it home, you collapse on the couch and sob into the cushions. Loud, messy, ugly sobs. You want to disappear. You want to scream.

But then your phone rings.

Unknown number.

Of course.

You pick up.

“What the hell do you wan—”

“Open the door,” Baekjin says, calm. Almost too calm.

“…What?” you whisper, sitting up, wiping your face. You peek out the window.

He’s outside. His motorcycle parked in front.

You end the call and walk to the door.

You shouldn’t open it. After what he did… after what you did…

But you open it anyway.

He’s standing there like nothing happened. Hands in his pockets. That stupid chill stance that makes your blood boil.

“Why are you here?” you ask, voice still shaky.

“To do something I’ve wanted to do since I first saw you,” he says.

“Baekjin, just tell me and stop beating around the bush!”

“…Fine. I want to make you mine.”

The words barely register before he steps inside and kisses you.

You KNOW you should push him away.

You know you’re hurting Baku.

But you're tired.

You're hurting too.

And this—this feels like a bandaid on a bleeding wound.

He closes the door with one hand and grabs your face with the other, deepening the kiss. It’s rough. Urgent. Messy. Your back hits the wall and you're gasping between kisses.

“Baekjin…” you whisper, pulling away just for air.

“Shh,” he mumbles, pressing his lips back on yours.

You kiss him back.

And then somehow, you're on the dining table—he pushed everything off in one dramatic sweep—and placed you on top of it like you weigh nothing.

He starts kissing your neck. You feel the heat rush through you. He wants to leave marks. Proof. Possession.

“Fuck…” he groans against your skin, gripping you tighter.

Then he stops. Pulls away slightly.

“I want you to want this,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours.

You know the right thing is to say no.

But you say yes.

A small smirk tugs at his lips. He places one last kiss on your lips before stepping back.

“Then show me how much you want me,” he says, turning and walking out the door like he was never even there.

He left you breathless. Confused. Wanting more.

You hated how he played these games. Hated how he always left you dizzy and desperate.

But the real question?

Were you going to let him keep playing?

Or were you already too far gone?

[omiomi]

Master list

Part 3

Code Red: Unfinished Sutures (Part 4)

Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

Baek Kang-Hyuk first met Y/N over the open chest of a dying man.

The surgical tent was sweltering, the air thick with sweat and blood. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors battled against the panicked voices of medics, but Baek only focused on one thing—the exposed heart beneath his hands.

“Clamp,” he barked, not looking up.

The instrument was placed into his palm with practiced efficiency, but the fingers that handed it to him weren’t familiar. They were steady, firm, purposeful.

“You’re doing it wrong,” a voice cut through the noise.

Baek’s eyes snapped up, locking onto Y/N’s for the first time.

She was calm, too calm for the chaos around them, her mask pulled up just enough that he could only see the sharpness of her gaze.

Baek clenched his jaw. “Excuse me?”

Y/N motioned toward the incision. “The pressure needs to be redistributed. You’re sealing the rupture, but if you don’t account for the surrounding tissue, you’ll compromise circulation.”

Baek scoffed. “I know what I’m doing.”

Y/N didn’t back down. “Then prove it.”

A challenge.

He held her gaze for a fraction of a second before turning back to his patient.

She was right.

The tension in the surrounding tissue would have collapsed the artery within the hour.

Without another word, Baek adjusted the suture, making the precise change she suggested.

Y/N handed him the next tool before he even asked for it.

Their first surgery together was performed in silence, their hands moving in harmony as if they had been doing this for years.

When it was over, Baek removed his gloves and finally looked at her.

Y/N was already pulling off her mask, the barest smirk on her lips. “You’re welcome.”

Baek exhaled. “Cocky.”

“Efficient.”

She walked away before he could respond.

Baek watched her go, exhaling sharply.

He already knew she was going to be a problem.

—

Weeks passed, and Baek learned three things about Y/N.

One: She was brilliant. Infuriatingly so.

Two: She had no patience for incompetence.

Three: She never let anyone take care of her.

The third one, he learned the hard way.

It happened on a night thick with rain, the kind that made the tents leak and turned the dirt beneath their boots into sludge. They had been running on fumes for 32 hours straight, treating soldiers who kept coming in faster than they could keep up.

Baek barely noticed when Y/N went quiet.

Didn’t register how she pressed a hand to her ribs every time she moved.

Until she nearly collapsed beside the operating table.

Baek was at her side in an instant, steadying her before she hit the ground.

“You’re burning up,” he muttered, gripping her wrist to check her pulse.

She tried to push him away. “I’m fine.”

His grip tightened. “You just passed out, Malaika.”

The nickname slipped out without thought. He saw the way her expression flickered, just for a second, before she forced it back into something unreadable.

Baek ignored it. “Where are you hurt?”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “It’s nothing.”

Baek didn’t believe her. He hooked his fingers into the hem of her shirt, lifting it just enough to see—

A deep gash across her side.

Baek went still.

His fingers grazed the bruised skin around the wound, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. “How long?”

Y/N sighed. “Since the last bombing.”

Baek’s jaw clenched. That was four days ago.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered, his voice quieter now.

Y/N smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Takes one to know one.”

Baek didn’t laugh. Didn’t smirk back.

Instead, he reached for the medical kit and said, “Let me.”

And for the first time since he met her, she didn’t argue.

—

Baek never let himself stare at Y/N for too long.

Not in the surgical tent, where they worked in perfect sync.

Not in the rare quiet moments, when exhaustion softened the sharp edges of her.

Not even now, when the flickering lantern light caught on the strands of hair she hadn’t bothered to tie back, making her look softer than she ever let herself be.

And yet, he was staring.

Y/N was seated across from him, rolling her shoulder with a quiet grimace. The day had been brutal—too many patients, too little time—but she still moved like she could take on another 12 hours if she had to.

Baek scoffed. “You should rest.”

Y/N arched a brow. “So should you.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t look away, either.

She exhaled, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I used to think you were insufferable.”

Baek huffed. “You still think that.”

“True.” A smirk. “But now I also think you care more than you let on.”

His jaw tightened, fingers curling against his knee. “I care about the job.”

Y/N hummed. “Right. The job.”

Baek should have left it at that. Should have shut down the conversation before it turned into something he wasn’t ready for.

But then Y/N tilted her head, watching him with that sharp gaze of hers—the one that made him feel like she saw past the walls he built.

“You hesitate sometimes,” she murmured.

Baek’s breath caught. “I don’t.”

She smiled, just barely. “You do. Not when you’re operating. But when it comes to me.”

Silence.

Baek felt it in his ribs, pressing against something he refused to name.

Y/N leaned forward slightly, her voice quieter now. “Why?”

Baek swallowed. He had no answer—none that he was willing to say out loud.

So he did what he always did. He stood.

“Get some sleep, Y/N.” His voice was rougher than intended.

Y/N watched him for a second longer, then leaned back with a knowing smile.

“Goodnight, Baek.”

He walked away before he could do something reckless. Before he could say something irreversible.

Because the truth was—

He did hesitate.

—

Baek Kang Hyuk didn’t know why he stopped walking.

It had been a long day—one of the worst. The kind where bodies kept piling up, where every patient that survived felt like a miracle, and every one they lost felt like a personal failure. He should have been in his tent, closing his eyes for what little rest he could steal before the next emergency.

But then he saw her.

Y/N was sitting by the supply tent, head tilted up to the sky. The moonlight softened her features, casting a glow over the dark smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes. Her hands rested loosely on her lap, but he could tell—she was tense. Holding it all in, the way she always did.

Baek exhaled. His feet moved before his mind made the decision.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was quieter than usual.

Y/N startled slightly but didn’t turn. “Not really.”

He hesitated before sitting down next to her. Close, but not too close. He could still smell the lingering scent of antiseptic on her clothes, mixed with something undeniably her.

Neither of them spoke.

For once, there was no competition, no bickering, no sharp words to cover up something softer. Just silence. And in that silence, something settled between them—something fragile, something dangerous.

“You did good today,” Baek said finally.

Y/N let out a dry chuckle. “We lost four people.”

“And saved twenty.”

She glanced at him, searching his face like she was looking for something. Maybe reassurance. Maybe something else.

Baek didn’t look away.

A breeze drifted between them, cool against the lingering heat of the day. Y/N sighed and, before she could think better of it, leaned her head against his shoulder.

He stiffened.

Not because he didn’t want it. But because he did.

Too much.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to relax. “You’re heavier than you look.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, but she didn’t move. “Shut up, Malak.”

He did.

And for the first time in a long time, Baek Kang Hyuk let himself stay.

—

It was raining.

The storm rolled in fast, turning the dirt paths to mud, hammering against the tent fabric like it wanted to break through. It smelled like wet earth and blood.

Y/N was already drenched when Baek caught up to her.

“Are you insane?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the downpour. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

Y/N turned, her soaked clothes clinging to her, hair sticking to her forehead. Her eyes burned. “Neither should you.”

Baek let out a sharp breath, stepping closer. “What the hell were you thinking, running into that crossfire?”

“I was saving people.”

“You almost got yourself killed.”

Y/N scoffed. “Like you wouldn’t have done the same.”

Baek clenched his jaw. That wasn’t the point. That was never the point.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was rough, raw. “I don’t—” He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his rain-drenched hair. “I can’t—”

Y/N stared at him.

Oh.

Oh.

“Baek—”

And then his hands were on her.

Not rough, not forceful—just there. Gripping her arms like he needed to ground himself, like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth. His breath was uneven, lips parted, eyes dark with something unspoken.

She shivered—not from the cold.

Baek hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough for her to pull away.

But she didn’t.

So he kissed her.

It was desperate, messy, full of frustration and something deeper that neither of them wanted to name. The rain soaked through everything, but they both didn’t care. His hand moved up to cup her jaw, tilting her face to deepen the kiss, like he was trying to commit the shape of her to memory.

Y/N gasped against his lips, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt.

And for the first time, they weren’t just fighting for someone else.

For the first time, they chose this—chose each other.

Part 5

This was a challenge to make! i really wanted to give you guys a glimpse of their past relationship, i hope i did well. lmk what you guys think about this!

taglist: @study-with-reine234 @redhoodedtoad @celestialstar111 @ryujinxzyy

[the-fic-locker]

The Widow | Part Two

Pairing: Min Byungyu x f!reader x Baek Yoonho

Content Warning: character funeral, grief, panic attacks, dissociation, bottling up emotions, early pining

Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, slow burn

Summary: He knew the memorial service was going to be hard on you both, but what he didn't expect was to witness just how kind-hearted your soul really is. No wonder Byungyu had been drawn to you. There might be a little part of Yoonho that's a little jealous, though, can you be jealous of a dead man?

Word Count: 2,790

Author's Note: I must say, I have never seen so many activity notifications! It felt like I was constantly getting more and more activity, and that was so heart-warming! So much so, I had to hurry up and finish part two! This one has also not been proofe read, but I still hope you enjoy!!

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Due to the sheer number of deaths that occurred during the raid, there was a mass memorial service was held a week later. Part of Yoonho felt (y/n) got cheated. Another part of him was glad they did it this way. You wouldn’t have wanted a bunch of mourners circling you, crying over you. You’d always hated that thought.

The news of you leaving a widow behind had hit the news the day after they returned. The Association was still unsure of who could have let the information slip. Jinchul had started mercilessly interrogating everyone working in the office, resulting in lots of sick days for those who cracked under his intense pressure. As a result of the leak, Yoonho had been sleeping on the burnt orange couch in the living room. He was there as moral support when you woke up screaming or vomiting in the middle of the night, but he was also there to scare off any reporters who had come in search of their next big headline. The memorial ought to keep them sated for a few days.

At the service, you were dressed in a solid black dress with a small hat with a veil covering your face. It was old-fashioned, but it looked good on you, plus it hid the redness in your eyes well. Yoonho accompanied you to the funeral and sat by you, but he gave you a moment of your own to mount the steps to the memorial to pay your final respects to your late husband. When you returned after laying your flower at his picture along with a letter of your own, he got up and made his way up.

Yoonho didn’t know why he was surprised seeing Jinwoo Sung coming down from the frame where he’d laid his flower with the ever-growing pile. The man looked utterly dejected, his face pointed to the ground. Yoonho knew from experience that great power came with great responsibility and an even greater amount of criticism from the public, who never really understood the weight of what Hunters did. The country had seen what he was capable of. Maybe not everything, but they’d seen enough to wonder why he wasn’t there to begin with. Yoonho was sure he was feeling responsible for not just Byungyu’s death, but for the deaths of everyone, and that weight wasn’t good for anyone to carry.

So he stopped him and relayed the words of wisdom that Byungyu himself had once laid on him three years ago. He made Jinwoo promise to wait for him at the bottom, and then he kept climbing.

“I’m sorry you never got to live your life with (y/n) or meet your child. I should never have brought you back in, but without you, we’d all be dead. Thank you for your sacrifice. And I promise I’ll take care of your wife and child,” he whispered, eyes caught on Byungyu’s smiling face.

He laid his white flower down on the pile and gave the man one last smile before walking down the steps and joining Jinwoo at the bottom.

“Come with me,” he said. “I want you to meet someone.”

Jinwoo looked hesitant, and Yoonho half expected the man to disappear like he was never there, but he let Yoonho lead him to the front where you were waiting. Jinwoo’s body locked up upon seeing you.

“(y/n), I’d like for you to meet Jinwoo. The man who helped save all our lives and end that nightmare,” Yoonho said.

He didn’t know you well enough to know how you’d react. Part of him was screaming that this was an absolutely horrible idea. The other part was hoping heavily that this was the right decision. That you could help one another find peace.

You turned around to look at them, your eyes watery beneath the veil. Jinwoo looked like he was near collapse, so Yoonho carefully, without touching his shoulder, guided him to have a seat in his spot beside you.

“You ended it?” your voice was weak as you spoke.

Yoonho could make out a subtle nod and he wished he could grab Jinwoo and express just how grateful he was– they all were– that he had showed up when he did. It didn’t matter that he was late. They all had their own lives, and he was no affiliated with any guild. He had a responsibility as a Hunter, but that responsibility was not commanded. He wasn’t there on the first, second, or third raids. He didn’t have a stake in the game. He simply showed up, however he did so, because he knew they were going to die. He is the only reason they all hadn’t lost their lives like so many of the Hunter’s from Japan.

He didn’t really know what he was expecting from this interaction. He didn’t truly know how you would react. Maybe for you to reassure him that you didn’t hate him. Maybe to slap him for being late. Maybe to promise him that your husband had given his life with purpose. Whatever there was, he definitely didn’t think you would throw your arms around the man’s neck and weep into his shoulder.

Jinwoo was hesitant. He never struck Yoonho as much of a hugger or someone who liked to be touched. He’d always brushed Yoonho off when the man grabbed his shoulder, then again, their very first meeting was less than ideal. However, Jinwoo wound his arms around you, holding you against his body and something inside of Yoonho’s chest rumbled.

This was his idea. The hug was an added bonus, but as he watched the tears drip down your cheeks, landing on Jinwoo’s black dress jacket, he couldn’t help but wish he was the one soaking up your tears. As quickly as the jealousy presented itself he forced it away. He had no business feeling protective and possessive over his best friend's widow. Especially when you were hugging the man who’d made his death mean something.

When the two pulled away, Jinwoo hid his face shyly as he rapidly wiped at his eyes. He was more affected by Byungyu’s death than Yoonho had expected.

He stood up, whispering his condolences and farewell to the both of you before departing and Yoonho took his seat again.

“Thank you for that,” you whispered.

Your hand found his, resting on his knee. You gave it a soft squeeze before folding your hands back in your lap and looking forward and the speeches started.

When the ceremony finished, everyone filed out slowly. Yoonho, hand resting protectively on your lower back, guided you through the crowd to where his black SUV was parked next to Jongin’s much more expensive and flashy red Corvette. He opened the passenger door and helped you in before closing it behind you and walking around to his side as Jongin and Cha Haein were approaching.

“How’s she doing?” Jongin asked, voice low even though the doors were shut.

The question was honest and earnest. As soon as Yoonho had learned about the full severity of the situation, he had phoned Chairman Go. From there, he wasn’t surprised that someone, likely the “indelicate” Jinchul had made the S Rank Hunter’s aware as they were all still shaken up and affected by the death.

“She’s… grieving, but pretending she’s ok,” Yoonho answered as best he could.

He didn’t know you well enough to be sure, but he suspected you were hiding your emotions when he was around, something he hoped to help you with as you got to know each other a bit more.

“I can’t believe he…” Jongin started, then, seeming to find it as indelicate as Manager Woo, paused. “I’m glad she has someone she can lean on. Let me know if I can do anything for either of you.”

This was not the Jongin Yoonho was accustomed to. Choi Jongin was an arrogant, selfish man who constantly held an annoying smirk across his face, but as he stood in front of Yoonho dressed in black with a red tie, there was no trace of that persona. Could it be possible that there was more to Jongin than Yoonho realized?

“Would it be alright if I came by tomorrow? I’d like to meet her,” Chaein spoke up.

Her voice was soft and delicate and Yoonho found himself giving her a respectful smile.

“I think having another female around to talk to about things like her feelings might do her some good. I’ll text you the address.”

He climbed into the driver's seat eventually and turned the ignition.

“Friends of yours?” you asked.

Yoonho nodded as he backed out amongst the traffic.

“Yes. They were there… and Chaein, the girl, would like to come over tomorrow. Is that alright with you?”

You thought for a moment before nodding.

The rest of the ride was silent. When Yoonho pulled into the parking lot of the apartment, you unbuckled and grabbed your purse from the floor.

“Are you coming inside?” you asked.

“If that’s alright with you.”

You nodded and climbed carefully out of the SUV as soon as he turned off the engine. Yoonho stayed back a moment, watching you head into the apartment building before he climbed out and followed you. You met again in the elevator, refusing to look at him, and eventually, you made it to the apartment where your hands were shaking so bad you couldn’t hold the key straight to unlock the door. Gingerly, Yoonho eased the keys from your hands and slid it into the lock, twisting it until it clicked and he was able to push the door open. You walked through the door, your whole body practically trembling now. Yoonho saw all the signs. His background as a firefighter was enough to queue him into a panic attack. He himself had experienced it a time or two. Quickly, he shut and locked the door before spinning around and placing a hand on your lower back. You barely seemed to realize he was there, and as he gently pried the purse from your hands, he caught a glimpse of your clouded eyes.

“Hey,” he spoke softly but firmly. “Look at me.”

He came around in front of you, one hand still on your back and the other now lifting to your chin. He tilted it carefully, guiding your face up from where you’d been looking ahead, and forced your eyes to meet his. Your pupils were dilated and your irises clouded over. He knew you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t see or process anything. He doubted you could even hear him.

Both hands came to rest on your waist and he gently guided you forward as he stepped back, his heightened senses allowing him to look behind him without taking his eyes off yours. He guided you over to the orange couch and grabbed the blanket that was thrown over the back of it once you were seated. He threw the blanket over your shoulders, tucking your arms into it gently and swaddling you in it as best he could.

“(y/n)?” his voice was soft and calm, but it didn’t seem to jar you back.

He sat down on the couch next to you, slipping an arm around your waist and drawing you a little closer.

“(y/n)?” still nothing.

He could see unspilled tears gathering in the corners of your eyes and he finally closed the distance between your bodies. He drew you into him, spreading his legs and pulling you to rest between them fully, your body pressing into his chest. When you still didn’t respond more than letting him maneuver you, he cupped your cheek in his hand, his other arm wrapping around you tightly, keeping you pressed hard against his body as his calloused fingers stroked over your cheek.

“You don’t have to hold it in,” he spoke softly. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re not hurting. You can bare yourself to me. I won’t judge you. I’ll be right here beside you through this whole thing.” As they sat there, Yoonho talked to you as his fingers continued to stroke your face and his arm held you secure. He talked to you about his own feelings. About how he missed his best friend and where the White Tigers were heading. Then he talked about his days before his awakening. The days when running into a burning building had been so normal, and how crazy it was that those buildings had become gates. Then he talked about nothing. Blabbering nonsense to fill the silence. And finally, after what felt like an eternity but was really only a few minutes, he felt your body mold into his, your face coming to rest on his chest as tears spilled freely.

“What just happened?” you sobbed.

He brought his hand up to gently stroke your hair.

“You had a panic attack that turned into dissociation,” he said. Your body shook against him, but not like before. You turned in his hold until you were face to face with him, hot tears streaming down your face freely now.

“How am I going to do this… any of this… without him?” you asked through broken sobs.

Yoonho secured you against him with his arm and drew you to him tighter until you rested your head against his chest and sobbed against his white button up shirt that had long since become uncomfortable.

“I don’t have all of the answers. I don’t know what it’s like to be in love or to lose the person you’re in love with, but I do know a thing or two about losing loved ones. It’s hard, unbearably so at first, and you never really get over it, but it becomes easier to bear over time,” he said.

He lowered his head to press a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“You will not forget him. You will always love him, and even though he isn’t here physically, and even though this is cliché as hell, he’s always in your heart,” he muttered against your hair and pressed his knuckles softly against your chest over your heart.

“And you don’t have to do this, any of it, alone. I will be here with you throughout it all. You’re not going to have to do anything alone if you don’t want to. I am here to comfort you, to get you ice cream in the middle of the night, to drive you to your doctor’s appointments, I am right here with you no matter what,” he said.

“W-what about your guild?” your voice was weak and cracked, but he could understand you clearly.

“They can manage without me for a while. I may have to check in on occasion, but they’re always telling me I work too much, and they’ll understand. If nothing else, I can ask Mr. Sung to step in as guild master for a while. It’ll be good practice for him,” he said.

You nodded against him and your shoulders finally stopped shaking.

“I want you to move in here. I feel better when you’re here, like he’s somehow here… And when you’re here… I know that everything’s going to be ok,” you said the last part at a whisper.

Without thinking twice, Yoonho nodded. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded and nestled deeper into his chest, making yourself comfortable as your tears slowly dried on his shirt. It wasn’t long after that that your breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, soft snores leaving your stuffed nose. He smiled down at you fondly.

It had been a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms like this while she slept. Most women he met nowadays were eager to get into Yoonho Baek’s bed in hopes of witnessing the beast within, but they all left before the morning, leaving him unsatiated and hungry for a closeness he didn’t think he’d ever find. With you in his arms, his heart swelled. You were what he’d been missing. The piece of the puzzle that had yet to be put together, but you were his best friend's widow. You were not his missing piece. You couldn’t be. And he’d never tell you that you were.

He carried you to your room, careful not to wake you up. He laid you down on the bed and tucked you in carefully. You ought to change out of the dress and remove your makeup before sleeping, but he didn’t want to wake you, so with a kiss to your forehead, he crept out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

What the fuck was he going to do?

[baekgo]

Just a cute idea . . .

Wild idea, what if the love triangle was between Ra-im, Eunhyeok, and Dohwa??

HEAR ME OUT.

⚠️ : THIS POST WAS NOT MADE TO HATE ON THE WEBTOON SERIES: OPERATION: TRUE LOVE

This is like if Ra-im woke up in a different world, her mother would be there, but her father would still be gone. Her mother would constantly be absent due to the amount of work she has to keep up with the growing economy so Ra-im tries her best to get a scholarship.

The people around them would still be the same, and there would only be a slight change in personality and perspective.

Ra-im and Eunhyeok would still meet through the piano competition thing, and their interaction up until Su-ae became relevant to their relationship will remain. It’s a world where Su-ae doesn’t exist and Ra-im becomes the main character.

I’ve just had this idea because I cannot, for the love of god, get Ra-im out of my head and her past with Eunhyeok. It pains me to think about, and I need to yap about it through a fic that I believe would have a more mature plot than the original.

Walk with me through the plot . . . (just more yapping)

I believe Ra-im’s mother would be struggling to keep a stable household, but Ra-im isn’t forced to work since she has a scholarship. Her mother finds a way to make ends meet so she’s able to live a life away from poverty, but not far from it. This brings up her sometimes cold attitude, but from it also sprung her fake charismatic side.

She would still meet Eunhyeok in the competition that he won, where he would later give her the trophy and the prize since he found out why she joined the competition (to help her mother). Her attitude towards Eunhyeok remains the same, still a bit cold in the beginning.

In this world, Dohwa would be given a “fair chance” since he would meet Ra-im while she has this cold attitude towards Eunhyeok. Although, her attitude doesn’t change towards Dohwa, it piques his interest. Slowly, Ra-im would learn to accept the two in her life.

She gains (I’m not sure if that’s the word to use) the “jealousy” and her personality from OTL through her classmates, who she knows have much more lavish lives. She’s kind of like Dohwa here, but she develops a lot of negative feelings and it would revolve around her relationship with herself and others. No jelly phone, no love points, just Yu Ra-im trying to navigate her way into life.

Should I write it? If so, where should I?

[chwelvr]

someone pls make a prompt of dohwa and yn breaking up way before dohwa and su-ae met, they broke up bc of dohwa checking most categories of being a shit bf. anyways after a while of dohwa meeting su-ae and realizing he had feelings for her, eventually making moves towards her and doing little things just for su-ae which unbeknownst to him, yn being aware of all this bc for whatever reason fate keeps reuniting them to be in one place after each other. after seeing how dohwa is to su-ae she then wonders why he never took care of her like that nor payed much attention to the things she liked. wondering what was wrong with her that didn't make him act like that towards her, or was she just not worth his time or something?

(can be an AI bot in either cha.ai/jan.ai, sorry if this doesn't make much sense I literally js thought of this at 1 in the morning idek)