I Know You Missed Me

“You Don’t Know Me, But You Will”

Geum Seong-je x Younger Reader(by three years)

Genre: Dark Romance / Obsession / Psychological

Geum seong je finds himself stalking and following her. Memorizing her schedule. Knowing where she lives. It doesn’t bother her. It makes her fall more…

⸻

She didn’t know his name.

You had passed by him maybe once—twice, if fate was being funny. You didn’t even look up when it happened. Just another boy in the background. Another blurred face in the messy canvas of school and city and bus rides.

But to him, you were everything.

Geum Seong-je noticed you the first time you passed his crew on the back street near the old convenience store. Your uniform was neater than the others’, your head lowered like you didn’t want to be seen. But he saw you. He always sees what others don’t.

That day, he followed you.

At first, just a block. Then two. Then every afternoon. You always took the same way home, headphones in, oblivious to the shadows you walked past. He memorized your routine. 4:07 p.m., you left school. 4:15, stopped for bubble tea. 4:38, turned the corner by the florist and disappeared into that tiny house with the rusting gate.

He didn’t know why it started. It didn’t matter.

There was a pull, like something primal. You were younger—three years, maybe more—but it didn’t register as a problem in his mind. Age didn’t mean anything. Not when he’d already decided you were his. Not when he felt something raw and alive clawing at his insides every time he saw you.

You smiled at a classmate once—some boy your age—and Geum Seong-je gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He didn’t like that. You didn’t even know him, but he burned with possessiveness anyway.

He watched you through windows. From rooftops. He learned your schedule better than you knew it yourself. Some nights, he followed you all the way to your tutoring sessions. Once, he even stepped into the same bookstore just to hear your voice when you asked the clerk about a novel.

Your voice made his fingers twitch. He wanted to own that softness. Trap it in a glass jar and never let anyone else hear it again.

You didn’t know it yet, but Geum Seong-je had already chosen you.

And he was just waiting for the right moment to make you see him too.

Lately, you’ve felt it.

A shift in the air. A weight behind your every step, like someone’s gaze is stitching itself into your spine.

It started small. The hair on your arms rising when you turned the corner near the convenience store. The feeling of eyes pressing against your back on the bus, even when no one was looking. You chalked it up to stress, to weird dreams and too many late nights reading horror stories.

But now?

Now you’re not so sure.

Today, you swear someone followed you.

Not with footsteps. Not anything obvious. Just that pull again — the sense that someone’s always a few steps behind, never touching, never close, but there. Breathing the same air. Watching.

And the weirdest part?

You’re not scared.

You should be. Any sane person would be. But instead… there’s something else curling in your stomach when it happens. A strange calm. A chill that makes you walk slower instead of faster.

It feels like something’s waiting for you. Like he’s waiting.

You don’t know his name. But you’ve seen him — tall, maroon jacket, eyes like they’ve seen too much. He’s always on the edge of your world. Near the bus stop. Outside the boba shop. Once, you saw him in the reflection of a window… just standing across the street, his gaze slicing straight through the glass like he could see inside you.

You don’t know him.

But you feel him.

Like he lives beneath your skin. Like something buried deep in your chest recognizes him, even if your mind doesn’t understand why.

It’s not love. It’s not fear either. It’s something in between. Something darker. Something magnetic.

From across the street, Geum Seong-je watches you pause. You turn your head like you can sense him. His breath catches. You feel him, don’t you?

He knew you would.

He smiles.

You’re almost ready.

“Only I Hurt You”

Oneshot were seong je finds reader in his bed after he was out handling a couple of guys who had fought her while walking home in an alley way (he told her to go home but she went to his house instead)

The front door creaked when he opened it.

Blood still clung to his knuckles, dried into the creases of his fingers. His hoodie was soaked with someone else’s sweat, maybe some of his own, and the adrenaline hadn’t fully left his bloodstream yet. It rarely did.

They’d laid hands on you. That was enough to make him see red. Enough to make him track them down like dogs.

But the house was too quiet now.

Geum Seong-je kicked off his boots and headed down the dim hallway. The rain hadn’t stopped — he could still hear it hammering against the windows. He told you to go home. Told you to listen.

You never listened.

And when he stepped into his bedroom, there you were.

Curled in his bed, soaking wet, blood streaked down one arm, your lip split and trembling. His sheets were damp. Your clothes were stuck to your skin like a second layer. Your shoes were still on.

“You walked here?” His voice came out low. Barely controlled.

You didn’t look at him. Didn’t answer.

He crossed the room in two steps.

“You walked here. In the rain. After they touched you?”

You blinked. He could see the shiver you tried to suppress, your body reacting before your pride could hide it. The blood on your shirt wasn’t all dried. Some of it was still fresh.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” you whispered.

That cracked something in him.

Geum Seong-je didn’t speak for a long moment. He just stood there, fists clenched, chest rising slowly. Then, without a word, he knelt at the edge of the bed and started untying your soaked laces. You flinched when his knuckles brushed your ankle.

“I told you to go home,” he muttered. “But you came here, instead.”

Your voice was barely audible. “This is home.”

He froze. Just for a second.

Then he yanked your shoes off with more force than necessary and peeled your jacket away from your shoulders. It clung, resisting, your blood and the rainwater mixing into a mess that stained his fingers.

You tried to sit up, but his hand landed on your thigh — firm, grounding.

“Stay still.”

You didn’t dare disobey.

He left for a moment. You heard drawers open, the faucet running. When he came back, he had a towel, gauze, ointment, and one of his oversized shirts.

“Take the top off.” His tone left no room for argument.

You moved slowly, the sting in your ribs sharper now that the adrenaline was fading. He watched you, eyes narrow, jaw tight, like he was memorizing every bruise so he could repay them tenfold.

He cleaned the cut on your arm with terrifying gentleness, fingertips brushing over your skin like you were something fragile, breakable.

“You should’ve called me,” he murmured.

“You told me to leave.”

“You should’ve still called.”

Your eyes flicked up. “Would you have come?”

He paused.

Then leaned in.

“I’m always coming for you.”

The silence between you tightened, thick with something you didn’t know how to name. You winced when he pressed antiseptic to your split lip. He cupped your jaw to steady you, his thumb brushing your cheek, rough with callouses and blood.

“I handled it,” he said. “They won’t touch you again. They won’t touch anyone again.”

A beat.

“Did you kill them?”

His eyes didn’t flinch. “No. But I made them wish I had.”

The room went still.

“You scare me sometimes,” you admitted.

He brushed damp hair from your face. Then leaned forward and kissed your forehead — barely a whisper of contact.

“I know,” he said. “But I’m the only one who’s allowed to hurt you.”

You didn’t know whether to cry or kiss him.

So instead, you let him pull his shirt over your head, let him dry your hair with the towel like he’d done this a hundred times before. And when he climbed into bed behind you, one arm sliding under your neck and the other over your waist, pulling you close, you didn’t fight it.

You just let yourself be held. By the boy who broke bones with his fists and still handled you like porcelain.

Because somehow, in all this cold, bleeding chaos —

Geum Seong-je was the only warmth you had left.

I love your whc fics so much!! and I love baekjin 🤗 could i request a baekjin x reader headcanon like you did with seonje?

Yessss!!!! And thank you for requesting!!!!

Na Baek Jin Headcanons

——————-

🌸 Sweet & Soft Na Baek-jin Headcanons

1. Quiet protector energy.

He’s not loud about how much he cares, but he’s always watching from a distance. You’ll find him leaning against a wall nearby, headphones on, eyes scanning for trouble. If someone even looks at you the wrong way, he narrows his eyes, and they back off fast.

2. The type to memorize your schedule.

He won’t admit it, but he knows exactly what time you have lunch, what route you take to class, and where you like to hang out when you need quiet. If you’re ever missing, he notices within five minutes.

3. Acts cold around others but melts when it’s just you.

Around his crew, he’s all blank expressions and sharp words. But with you? He softens. Pulls you into his hoodie. Tucks your hair behind your ear. Hums a tune while your head rests on his chest.

4. Gives you his jacket without a word.

You shiver once, and he shrugs off his jacket like it’s nothing, tossing it over your shoulders. No eye contact. Just a quiet: “Wear it.” His scent lingers on the collar and makes you dizzy in the best way.

5. Secretly writes music about you.

He has a locked folder in his phone with beats he made while thinking of you — sometimes dark and brooding, sometimes soft and slow. You have no idea, but he listens to them late at night when he misses you too much to sleep.

⸻

🖤 Obsessive/Intense Na Baek-jin Headcanons

1. He doesn’t trust people around you.

Even if they’re being friendly, he watches every interaction like a hawk. If anyone flirts with you, his hand clenches at his side. He won’t start a fight — not unless you’re hurt — but he’ll remember. And he’ll handle it later.

2. Needs to know where you are — always.

He doesn’t blow up your phone, but he expects you to text when you get home. If you don’t, he shows up. Calm, serious, standing outside your door like: “Why didn’t you tell me you were safe?” It’s not a question — it’s an accusation wrapped in worry.

3. Keeps little pieces of you.

That broken hair clip you threw away? He has it. Your old scarf? Still in his drawer. They’re like tokens — reminders that you’re real, that you’re his. He’d never tell you, but they matter more to him than his own stuff.

4. Gets possessive when you pull away.

If you try to create space — emotionally or physically — he goes still. Withdrawn. But the storm behind his eyes brews silently. He doesn’t beg, but he’ll back you into a corner emotionally with quiet intensity, whispering: “I don’t know how to breathe without you.”

5. Has a dangerous calm when he’s jealous.

He doesn’t explode. He waits. Observes. Then he finds quiet ways to isolate the person — pushes them out of your life with subtle pressure, until you only see him. And he’ll act like it’s coincidence.

Bro he’s so fucking fine😫😫😫he’s my new obsession for the month bro

(Every time I listen to this song all I think abt is him. He legit owns this song 🤧)

——

“To Be Loved by a Monster”

Pairing: Seo Moon Jo x fem!reader

Genre: Psychological Thriller | Dark Romance | Canon-Compliant

⸻

You should’ve moved out the second the landlord smiled at you with one too many teeth.

You should’ve trusted your instincts when you heard footsteps in the hall at 3 a.m., pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

But you stayed.

Because your rent was cheap.

Because your boss didn’t care where you lived.

Because the man in room 302 smiled at you like he knew something you didn’t — and somehow, that made you feel less alone.

⸻

Seo Moon Jo was never just a dentist.

He moved like he owned the world — or at least the walls of this rotten place. And when he first knocked on your door with a cup of tea and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, you told yourself it was just kindness.

“You’re new,” he said, voice soft like silk hiding a blade. “Welcome to Eden.”

You shouldn’t have let him in.

But his voice had a lull to it. A pull.

And you were so, so tired of being invisible.

⸻

He never asked too many questions. Never needed to.

You found yourself talking anyway — about your job, your loneliness, the way Seoul could swallow people whole and no one would notice.

He listened.

And when you told him your ex had been stalking you, Moon Jo’s gaze darkened just enough to stir something cold in your chest.

“People like that,” he said gently, brushing your hair from your face, “should disappear.”

You laughed nervously.

But he didn’t.

⸻

The next week, your ex stopped texting.

His number disconnected.

And Moon Jo started visiting you more often.

⸻

It wasn’t love. Not really. Not at first.

It was obsession disguised as attention. Possession wrapped in compliments. He brought you food when you forgot to eat. Walked you to your door after late shifts. Touched your wrist lightly as he passed by — like he was reminding you that he was always near.

“You don’t belong with the rest of them,” he whispered once, eyes glinting in the dim hallway light. “They’d ruin you. I won’t.”

You didn’t ask what he meant.

Some part of you was afraid of the answer.

⸻

Then one night, you opened your door and saw blood.

A smear on the floor. A trail leading down the corridor.

You froze.

And just like that — like he’d been waiting for you to see — Moon Jo appeared behind you.

“Don’t look at that,” he said quietly, curling a hand around your shoulder and turning you away. “Come inside.”

You should’ve run.

Instead, you let him close the door behind you.

⸻

Later, in the dark of your room…

He sat beside you on the floor. His shirt was clean now. His hands too. You were shaking.

But he wasn’t.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you whispered, staring at the carpet.

His silence was the answer.

“You kill people.”

Another beat.

Then:

“Only the ones who deserve it.”

You turned to him then, eyes burning. “And what about me? What do I deserve?”

His gaze softened — in that strange, terrifying way he had — like you were something delicate.

“Everything.”

“Love. Safety. Someone who’d burn the world just to keep you breathing.”

He reached out slowly, brushing your cheek with knuckles too steady for someone who’d just taken a life.

“And if the world can’t give you that…” His smile was faint. “Then I will.”

⸻

You didn’t leave.

Maybe you were just as broken.

Maybe he’d already sunk his claws too deep.

Or maybe — worst of all — part of you liked being needed by someone so terrifyingly devoted.

So you let him hold you.

Let him kiss your hair.

Let him whisper things you’d once been too sane to believe.

“You’re mine now.”

And the scariest part?

You didn’t argue.

No One Else(follow up) Mine, Completely

Geum Seong-je x Fem!Reader

Dark Romance · Obsession · Established Relationship · Emotional Intensity

This will be the last of the “no one else” series 😖😖

Requested: yess!!

⸻

You used to wake up alone.

Now, it was always him.

Geum Seong-je didn’t sleep much, but when he did, it was always with an arm flung over your waist like a chain. His breath against the back of your neck, warm and steady. His body curled around yours, protective and overwhelming all at once.

When you stirred that morning, his grip immediately tightened.

“Where are you going?” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

“I just moved,” you whispered. “Relax.”

He didn’t.

“You move too far and my chest starts to ache,” he said, almost like a joke. But you knew better.

You rolled over, facing him. His hair was messy, eyes still heavy-lidded, but alert. Watching. Like he was still afraid you’d disappear.

“You don’t have to watch me like I’m going to vanish,” you said softly.

“You did,” he answered, eyes locked to yours. “Once. I won’t forget it.”

His tone wasn’t accusing. It was just… truth. The kind of truth that haunted him.

You reached out, brushing your fingers down the scar on his cheek, the one he never talked about. “I’m not running again.”

His expression didn’t change much, but you saw it — the flicker of relief. The crack in his armor.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’d find you.”

“I know.”

You both lay there in silence for a moment.

And then he shifted, propping himself on his elbow to look down at you. There was a fire in his eyes. Not anger — devotion. The dangerous kind. The kind that didn’t know where he ended and you began.

“I don’t like the way people look at you,” he said. “Like they deserve a chance. Like they don’t know you’re already taken.”

You smiled faintly. “They don’t matter.”

He didn’t smile back. “They’d matter if you looked back.”

“I wouldn’t,” you said. “You know that.”

But he was already pulling you closer, holding you like he could fuse you to him with just his hands. “I trust you,” he murmured. “I don’t trust the world.”

You rested your forehead against his. “Then stay close.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a request. It was a truth you’d both already accepted.

And for better or worse — in obsession, in fire, in love twisted and beautiful — you were his.

Completely

“No One Else” — Part 7: “The Silence Between Us”

Genre: Dark romance, emotional unraveling, obsession

Tone: Cold war tension, quiet heartbreak, dangerous buildup

I have no music for this one😖

⸻

You didn’t answer that night.

And you didn’t follow him when he walked away.

That was the beginning.

The shift.

The unraveling.

⸻

You stopped texting first.

You sat with other people at lunch.

You let your headphones drown him out in the hallway. Walked past him without slowing down. Not in hatred—just in resistance.

You needed to know if you were still a person without him. If your thoughts were your own. If your voice didn’t echo back his name every time you breathed.

He noticed, of course.

He always noticed.

⸻

At first, he didn’t confront you.

Just watched.

From his usual spot near the stairs. Or across the hall. Or from a corner of the convenience store he never used to go to.

He watched you laugh with someone else.

He watched you tuck your phone deeper into your bag.

He watched the space between you grow like a wound.

And then—he started cracking.

⸻

It came out in bursts.

One day, he grabbed your wrist in the hallway. Too tight. Too fast.

“Don’t ignore me,” he said.

You stared at him, calm and deliberate. “You said to choose. I’m choosing.”

He didn’t let go.

His hand was shaking.

You’d never seen him shake before.

“You think walking away makes you free?” he asked. “You think I’ll just disappear?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “Do you want to disappear, Seong-je?”

That made something in him snap.

He let go.

But the next day?

He wasn’t at school.

And neither was the guy you’d been working on the project with.

⸻

You found out through someone else that the kid ended up in the nurse’s office with a busted lip and no explanation.

You didn’t ask.

You knew.

You went home that night with your heart pounding and your stomach twisted.

You wanted space.

But distance from Geum Seong-je didn’t feel like freedom.

It felt like walking through a minefield barefoot.

⸻

He didn’t show up again for three days.

And for three days, you slept with your phone on your pillow, waiting.

Not because you missed him.

But because some part of you knew—when he came back, he wouldn’t come quietly.

And if you weren’t ready, he’d take back everything you were trying to reclaim.

One word at a time.

Part 4- Cherry Coke & Cigarettes

Geum Seong-je x Fem!Reader | Soft Romance, Flirting, Emotional Vulnerability, soft seong je

——

He didn’t call it a date.

You knew that already. He wouldn’t.

He just texted:

“Be ready at 6.”

And when you opened your door, he was already there — hands in his pockets, leather jacket, a little more cologne than usual. He didn’t meet your eyes at first. Just scanned you up and down, slow.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asked, voice unreadable.

You blinked. “Uh… yeah? Why?”

A pause.

He looked away. “You look good.”

You smiled. “Is that your way of flirting?”

“No,” he muttered. “That was me being honest.”

⸻

At the Ramen Spot — Late Evening

He brought you to this little ramen place that had two tables, cracked walls, and the best broth you’d ever tasted. He didn’t say much at first — just watched you blow on your noodles and sip slowly, his own bowl untouched.

“You’re staring,” you said, playful.

He didn’t deny it.

“You always eat this slow?” he asked, leaning on one elbow. “Or are you just trying to look cute?”

You nearly choked on your spoon.

You narrowed your eyes at him, teasing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to charm me, Seong-je.”

He smirked. “Is it working?”

You leaned forward a little. “Maybe.”

He blinked. You saw the way his smirk faltered — just for a second — and something tender settled in its place.

Then, quieter:

“I’ve never done this before.”

“What, flirt?”

He chuckled under his breath. “No. This. The… normal stuff.”

You twirled your noodles, voice soft. “What’s normal to you?”

“Running. Fighting. Keeping people out.”

You didn’t say anything — just reached out and gently brushed your knuckles across his hand.

He looked at it, then at you.

“I guess you’re not ‘normal’ either,” he said.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”

⸻

Walking Home – Under Dim Streetlights

He walked close to you. Not touching, but his hand would brush yours every few steps like he was thinking about it. You didn’t push — just let it happen.

“Can I ask you something personal?” you said suddenly.

He tilted his head. “That’s all you ever ask me.”

You laughed. “Okay. What were you like… before all this?”

He took a breath, eyes fixed on the sidewalk.

“Quiet,” he said. “Angry. Always trying to prove something.”

“To who?”

“Myself. Mostly.”

You nodded. “I think I tried to disappear a lot. Not because I hated the world. Just… I didn’t think it would miss me if I went.”

He stopped walking.

You turned toward him.

He stared at you for a long time. “That’s not true.”

You shrugged, trying to smile through it. “It felt true.”

He reached for your hand again, lacing his fingers between yours without looking away.

“Well. I would’ve missed you.”

That did it.

Your face flushed, and he noticed — and the way his expression softened after that made it even worse.

“You really like me, don’t you?” you asked, voice light but hopeful.

He pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed the inside of your wrist, like it wasn’t a question.

CAN YOU PLEEEAAAASE WRITE A NA BAEKJIN X FEM!READER NSFW ONESHOT OR SERIES EVEN PLSS 😔🤲🏻

“Control”

Pairing: Na Baek Jin x fem!reader

Genre: NSFW / Smut, Emotional Intimacy, Slight Power Play, Soft Aftercare

Setting: His apartment, late at night after a long day

(I’ve had this in my drafts also😭)

⸻

You were already breathless when Baek Jin pressed you against the door of his apartment, your back hitting the wood as his lips claimed yours with quiet urgency.

The moment the door clicked shut, something shifted.

His grip on your waist tightened, jaw flexing as he pulled back just enough to look at you — eyes dark, sharp with intent.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that in public,” he said lowly, voice rough against your ear.

You smirked, despite the way your heart was thundering. “Like what?”

“Like you want me to lose control.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer — his mouth was back on yours, hot and consuming, his hands already beneath your shirt. He peeled it off slowly, letting his fingers trail up your sides like he was memorizing every inch of you.

Every move was precise, almost studied — the way he touched you like he was in command, not just of your body, but of himself. Until you looked at him with that softness in your eyes, and the control cracked.

He pushed you gently but firmly toward the bedroom, never breaking eye contact. You laid back across the sheets, propped on your elbows, watching as he undressed with a slow deliberateness that made your thighs press together.

When he crawled over you, his hands planted firm beside your head, his expression changed — colder, hungrier.

“You drive me insane,” he muttered, lips brushing your jaw. “I don’t show it. But I think about you… constantly.”

“Then show me,” you whispered.

That was all it took.

His mouth claimed your neck, then your chest, his hands sliding under your thighs to pull you closer. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your soaked panties, and he smirked against your skin.

“So wet already?” he murmured, pushing them aside.

Two fingers slipped in easily, his thumb circling your clit while his mouth returned to your chest. You moaned, arching into him, fingers gripping the sheets.

“Baek Jin—” you breathed, your voice cracking slightly.

He glanced up, eyes half-lidded. “Say it again.”

“Baek Jin.”

He cursed under his breath and pulled away just enough to rid you of your underwear and align himself. He didn’t rush — just eased in slow, watching your expression like it was the only thing he cared about in the world.

You gasped, clinging to him as he filled you completely.

He groaned low in his throat, voice strained. “You feel too good. Fuck…”

His thrusts started deep and slow — steady, controlled, each one hitting just the right spot. You wrapped your legs around his waist, nails digging into his back as the pace built, your moans echoing into the night.

It wasn’t just sex — not with him.

It was the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching. The way his lips would soften against your shoulder mid-thrust. The way he whispered, “Mine,” like a secret no one else was meant to hear.

Your orgasm hit fast and hard, your body trembling beneath him, back arching off the bed as you cried out his name. He held you through it, slowing only slightly before chasing his own release with low, breathless groans.

When he came, it was with his forehead pressed to yours, hands locked around your wrists like he needed to anchor himself to you.

The silence after was heavy with heat and heartbeats.

He rolled off you, but didn’t let go — pulling you into his chest, holding you close like he was afraid you’d disappear.

You nuzzled into his neck, smiling softly.

“Still in control?” you teased, voice hoarse.

Baek Jin chuckled — a rare, genuine sound. “Not even close.”

-MASTERLIST-

A/N: There will be more!!!! If you want me to write any more kpop groups. Idols. Actors, etc plz ask!!!!(i dont rlly do smut but I will try if you request it😉)

A lot of my fanfic will have songs that you can listen to that give the vibe of the writing but you don’t have to listen to them you can listen to your own music!!

About me!!

She/her, Spanish/Mexican American😛

I don’t really write smut, I do sometimes, only if requested or asked(plz don’t be scared to ask😅)

I love kpop, punk rock, and underground rap/Memphis rap!!!!

I also love love LOVE twilight (team Jacob✊😜) I’m also a big jasper fan😏

—————

But these are the ones I plan on writing(an have written) thus far👇

Weak hero class:

Geum seong je:

No one else pt1, pt 2, pt3, pt4, pt 5

Geum seong je x reader headcanons

Only I hurt you

No One Else (follow up)

Every Time

I Know You Missed Me

The Last Cigarette

Cherry coke & cigarettes

Cherry coke & cigarettes pt 2

Glass cage pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt7, pt 8

Yeon sieun:

The quiet between us

Na Baek Jin:

I Just Want You

Na Baek Jin Headcanons

Kang woo young:

Dirty little secret

Rumors & recordings

Baek dongha:

Beneath the smoke

Strangers from Hell:

Seo moon Jo:

To be loved by a monster

Stray kids:

Nothing yet

P1harmony:

Nothing yet

hi i love your weak hero fanfics 😍😍 could you make something about baek dongha?

Heyy thank you sm for requesting!!!!(srry for taking s long time I was very busy😘)

“Beneath the Smoke”

Pairing: Baek Dong-ha x fem!reader

Genre: Slow-burn romance, angst with comfort, emotional vulnerability

⸻

The rooftop was Baek Dong-ha’s escape.

Most people thought he thrived in chaos—always at the center of smoke and blood, commanding fear like it was instinct. But up here, with the city lights flickering below and the sky swallowing up his silence, he could finally breathe.

And now, you were here too. Sitting beside him, your legs swinging off the edge like you weren’t afraid of anything—not the height, not him.

“I figured I’d find you up here,” you said softly, placing a convenience store coffee beside him. It was the same one he always grabbed. Iced black, no sugar.

Baek Dong-ha didn’t look at you right away. He kept his eyes on the skyline, the cold wind brushing against the bandage on his jaw. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You smiled, not offended. “Neither should you. But here we are.”

He finally looked at you. Not with the sharp, cutting gaze that scared most people away. This one was quieter. Tired. Like he was always bracing for the next fight, even when there wasn’t one.

“Why do you keep showing up?” he asked, voice low. “Even after everything you’ve seen?”

You leaned back on your hands, your shoulder brushing his. “Because you’re more than what people see when they look at you.”

A bitter scoff escaped him. “They see what’s real.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, turning to face him. “I think they see what you want them to see.”

That made him pause. His fingers tightened slightly around the coffee cup. “And what do you see?”

You hesitated, then answered honestly. “Someone who’s hurting. Someone who doesn’t know how to be soft without feeling weak. Someone who thinks being alone is safer—but deep down, doesn’t want to be.”

His throat worked around a swallow. “You think you know me that well?”

“I’m still trying,” you said. “But I’m not scared to.”

Baek Dong-ha didn’t say anything for a while. The wind picked up, carrying the distant sounds of traffic and the echo of something fragile between you.

Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “You shouldn’t get close to me.”

“I’m already close,” you replied. “And I’m still here.”

He turned his head just slightly, studying you. Like he was trying to find the catch. But there wasn’t one. Just you, stubborn and soft, sitting beside a boy the world had already written off.

Finally, he leaned back against the railing, letting out a slow breath.

“…I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t have to,” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “You just have to let me be here.”

Baek Dong-ha closed his eyes, letting your hand linger. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the need to run or fight. He just… existed. Right beside you.

And maybe, for now, that was enough.