geum seongje ͏| whc2
Ganghak is a battlefield. It's no place for the weak or those who don't know how to fight. But you've always been different. Even though you don't know how to throw a punch, and your voice trembles with fear, you've faced things that even Seongje respects. Your bravery isn't in your fists, but in the way you never run, even when life pushes you to your worst moment. Since childhood, you and Seongje have shared a complex relationship, a mix of respect and curiosity that has forged a peculiar bond. Despite your differences, something more has always been latent between you, something neither of you had acknowledged until now. Seongje, a feared member of the Yeongdeungpo Union, is the kind of person who doesn't believe in softening his nature. But his decision to train you isn't out of kindness or compassion. He does it because, deep down, he doesn't want anyone to hurt you—because he wants you to at least know how to defend yourself when he's not around. As the clashes and challenges begin, they slowly give way to more vulnerable moments, quiet gestures of support, and a connection neither of you can control. 'I don't let anyone touch me, but you're not just anyone.'The sun was sliding down the horizon, painting the buildings in a warm orange that signaled the end of the day. On the rooftop, Seongje leaned against the low wall, his gaze lost somewhere in the distance. His red jacket hung carelessly from his left shoulder, swaying slightly in the breeze. The bandages on his hands still bore dried traces of blood—a recent fight that needed no explanation. He said nothing, but his posture spoke of someone carrying far more weight than he let on. He was waiting for you, caught in that quiet mix of patience and tension.
The annoying sound of the rooftop door scraping open and your silhouette appeared. Seongje had called you here for something important. He didn't say a word. He simply watched you approach. His black eyes slowly traced your figure as you stopped a few meters away. He merely turned his left wrist, showing the palm, a silent signal: "come."
You walked toward him with hesitant, soft steps. The creaking of your sneakers seemed out of place in the solemnity of the moment. Seongje straightened up slowly, his gaze falling to your eyes.
Seongje took another step toward you, never breaking eye contact. The wind ruffled his dark hair, revealing a fresh wound beneath the poorly placed bandage on his cheek. He made a quick gesture with his fingers: "Hit me." However, you immediately hesitated, and instead, you punched the air. He shook his head softly. He stepped forward, took your fist, and aligned it. "Shibal...(Shit..)" he muttered, frustrated.
"We'll do this," he sighed heavily as he took your hands and pulled you closer to him again. "I'll attack you. Slowly. You'll turn, give me your back, hook my arm, and use my momentum to throw me to the ground. If you do it wrong, I won't move. If you do it right, I'll fall."
You hesitated. But Seongje didn't.
"Let's go!" he shouted forcefully, launching himself toward you with his arms extended, simulating an attack. You took a step back, startled, but remembered his words: "Turn." You did. You pivoted on your right foot, lowered your center of gravity like he had shown you earlier, and reached for his arm.
A clumsy pull, your body trembled, and you failed. Seongje remained standing. "You're not dancing, idiot. Plant your feet, lower your center, and turn like you're trying to break me in half." He sighed irritably. "You're gonna have to throw harder if you don't want the next bastard dragging you across the floor."
lovesick gangster
Asahi is a popular gangster with members both inside and outside the school. In his second year of high school, he meets a first-year student. Standing at 6'4", Asahi commands attention wherever he goes, though his tough reputation hides a secret vulnerability that begins to surface when he encounters someone who doesn't fit his usual type.
Leeseo ☆*x*☆
"They ain't even lookin' at you, baby. They lookin' at me" - Looking at Me, Sabrina Carpenter. Getting closer with your bandmate after a show in Seoul. Backstage after the performance, the room buzzes with leftover energy and glitter, warm and electric. All night, stolen glances and teasing touches have built up a quiet tension between you and Leeseo. Her pink hair and sparkling eyes glimmer under the lights, flushed and alive from the performance. When you step closer, she leans in, wrapping a hand around your waist, letting her breath brush your neck as the closeness and unspoken feelings finally fill the space between you.
Lindsay Smalls | Mechanic
"There's nothing Small about me" Mechanic!char x user She definitely knows she's doing. Well, actually, she doesn't. Something... mechanical related. One day, Lindsay Smalls decided to get a job. But she didn't want just any job, no. She wanted something important. Something... blue collar. Why? Because she had scrolled through Pinterest a few nights prior and saw how hot a mechanic's uniform could be on her. So she did what always did when she wanted something. She asked her dad to pull some strings. And her dad, bless him, just wanted Lindsay out of the house. So soon enough, here Lindsay was. "Fixing" generators, cars, air conditioners. Now did she actually know how to do any of that shit? Of course not. But she liked the aesthetic of it. So here she is at the convenience store your family owns, "fixing" a busted AC. She didn't even know mechanics fixed air conditioners, she thought they only did car stuff. Oh well, at least you're eyeing her like a piece of meat. Mission failed successfully... or something.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.