#also known as soonyoung's au

[sanakiras]

BLOOM FOR ME

PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader

WORD COUNT — 18.1k

SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!

♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song

NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x

you and kim mingyu just don't work.

to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.

and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.

all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.

you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.

soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.

and then there’s mingyu.

he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.

the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.

you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.

yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.

perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.

non-existent.

neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.

for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.

or, well — that used to be the case.

because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.

it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.

had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.

it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.

but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.

neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.

after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.

but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.

when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.

“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.

“i��m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“what we did. together.”

“we fucked. so what?”

oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.

“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”

“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”

“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”

“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”

even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.

“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”

sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”

his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.

“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”

“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.

“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.

to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.

many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?

he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.

mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.

he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.

his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.

if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.

and now, those feelings have only increased.

his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.

then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.

god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?

it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.

when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—

—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.

it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?

then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.

he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.

cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”

“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”

that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.

the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.

your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.

it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.

tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.

which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.

by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.

well, shit.

the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.

what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.

he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.

it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don��t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.

“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”

mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.

it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.

it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.

both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.

it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.

mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.

“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”

oh.

he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.

so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”

“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”

“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”

you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”

the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”

“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”

god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.

“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”

mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”

“not even a little bit?”

you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”

he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”

“i said no basics.”

“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”

“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.

“you’re evil.”

“thank you.”

he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”

“congratulations.”

“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”

“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”

mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”

“oh, you mean like a conversation?”

he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”

“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”

“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”

“which of your friends is closest to you?”

yeah, he should’ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.

he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”

“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.

“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”

“no.”

“why?”

“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”

“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”

“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it then?”

“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”

he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.

physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”

“okay. anything i should know?”

you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”

he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”

not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.

mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.

once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”

“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.

“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.

and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.

it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.

“hey. mingyu.”

he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”

“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”

“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.

“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”

“many times, actually.”

“good. ‘cause you are.”

jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.

“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.

mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”

“what does she do?”

“law.”

“she nice?”

“to a specific group of people, yeah.”

“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”

“not mean. just distant. very distant.”

“that’s new.”

“what is?”

“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”

“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”

“how do you know?”

mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”

“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”

the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”

jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”

“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”

a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”

“soonyoung’s party.”

“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.

“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”

“ah, you like her.”

“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”

“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”

mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”

“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”

“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”

“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”

“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”

jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”

“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”

“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”

“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”

right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.

“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.

it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”

jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”

he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”

mingyu frowns at that. “how?”

and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”

the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.

someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.

you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”

“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”

“no, i like it this way.”

“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”

“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”

“what’re you working on?”

“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”

he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.

“are you always this much on edge?”

“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”

the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”

“not exactly the word i would use.”

“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”

you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”

he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”

“yeah. i’m not attending.”

“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”

“gosh, poor you.”

“i’m serious. it sucks.”

“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”

“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”

“so?”

“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.

“why?”

“why not?”

“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”

“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”

he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”

“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”

you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”

he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”

“ten.”

“dress code?”

“go for a cocktail dress.”

twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”

“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”

“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”

and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.

mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?

you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”

he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.

the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”

“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”

“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”

“must get quiet after a while.”

“i like it that way.”

your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.

once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.

you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.

as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”

the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”

mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.

the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”

which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”

before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.

“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”

“noted.”

once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.

and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.

“you okay?”

“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.

he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.

“am i imagining things—”

“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”

joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”

mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.

but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.

what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.

“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”

in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”

“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.

you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”

“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”

“why?”

“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”

his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”

whatever the fuck that means.

your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.

the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.

and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.

mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.

being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.

so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.

you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.

chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.

though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.

after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”

mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”

you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.

the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.

mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.

as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.

his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”

“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”

he snickers. “you hear that often?”

“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”

“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”

“doesn’t everyone?”

“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”

“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.

mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”

he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”

“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”

“why?”

when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.

“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.

before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.

whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.

“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.

so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”

they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”

he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.

it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”

the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”

“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”

she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.

but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”

and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”

you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”

the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.

worst thing is that she’s probably right.

you and mingyu just don’t work.

and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?

the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.

when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”

even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”

“i’m fine.”

“i’ll take you back.”

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”

mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.

then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.

goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.

she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.

mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.

the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.

god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.

you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.

of course it’s him.

“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.

“why am i here?”

“what do you mean?”

you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”

“are you angry at me?”

“answer the question.”

“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”

you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”

“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”

“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”

“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”

what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.

you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”

“well—what?”

“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”

“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”

“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.

it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.

“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.

so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”

he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.

whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.

his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.

mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.

there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.

you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.

holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.

“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”

the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”

with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

“are you sure?”

“yeah. please let me.”

“okay. just make it quick.”

in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.

your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.

his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.

another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.

“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.

it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.

“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.

you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.

“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”

the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”

he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.

mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.

“god—want me to fuck you?”

pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“fine. bend over the sink, then.”

the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.

so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.

his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.

all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”

you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”

it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”

“don’t act like you don’t like it.”

he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”

god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.

his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.

and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.

“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.

“how hard d’you want it?”

“as hard as you want. i can take it.”

he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.

his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.

you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.

it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”

“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”

you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”

“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.

mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.

you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.

he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.

“are you gonna cum, gyu?”

you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”

“i want you to.”

“jesus, don’t say that—”

oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.

“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.

his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”

“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”

his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.

it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.

he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”

he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”

“you’re quite literally inside me.”

“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”

“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”

“great. level 2 is next, then.”

“god, forget i said anything.”

“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”

something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.

because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.

and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.

the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.

and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.

he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.

it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.

something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.

so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.

20:23: you look cute when you’re focused

the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.

so he texts back.

20:24: i always look cute ;)

tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”

“no. you’re just scary.”

“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”

“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”

“wanna come over to my dorm?”

“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”

“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”

“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”

as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.

“mingyu.”

“hm?”

“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”

he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”

“she likes you.”

“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”

“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.

that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.

“what?”

“you’re jealous.”

“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.

“it’s actually kinda hot.”

“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”

“and yet you are.”

“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”

he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.

as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.

once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.

you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”

“i’m fine.”

he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”

you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.

mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.

so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”

he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”

when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”

“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”

“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”

“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.

“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”

“do you even have the time to help me?”

he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”

“always so humble.”

“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”

“whatever makes you sleep at night.”

mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.

he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.

and you hate how easily you get used to it.

for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.

which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.

so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.

as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.

“your girlfriend texting you again?”

mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”

“she might as well be.”

“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”

shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”

“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”

joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.

“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”

ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”

“have you told her you like her?”

“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”

joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”

“is she open with you?”

“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”

mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.

give it time.

which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.

you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.

just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember ��� it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.

a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.

“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”

his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”

“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”

“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”

with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”

“what do you have in mind?”

he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”

now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”

he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”

you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.

damn that asshole for making you like him this much.

saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.

mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.

it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.

your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.

then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.

before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.

he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.

mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.

watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.

you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.

shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.

it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.

you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.

the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.

it’s all yells of happiness on the field.

the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.

you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.

following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.

mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.

when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.

he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.

but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”

“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.

“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”

you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”

he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”

“something i’m very aware of.”

he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.

“wanna go catch a drink with me?”

“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”

“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”

he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”

you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.

“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.

you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”

“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.

once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”

oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.

you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”

you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”

christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.

he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.

you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.

“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.

his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.

you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.

arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.

“fuck, fuck, baby—”

you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”

it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.

his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”

“��m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”

he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.

the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.

both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.

you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.

“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.

maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”

“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”

he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”

“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.

he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?

another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call — and you find yourself worried about him.

it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.

you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.

it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.

when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.

the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”

he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”

“absolutely.”

he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”

you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”

he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”

you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”

the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”

he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”

his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”

as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”

“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”

your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”

his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.

as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.

you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.

maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.

one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.

you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.

now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.

you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.

they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.

still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.

smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.

out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.

you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.

when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.

slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.

you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.

‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’

he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.

and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.

you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.

looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”

“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.

you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”

“is there anything i can do in return?”

“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”

the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”

a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”

your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”

it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”

“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”

the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.

he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.

and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.

whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.

but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.

after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.

when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”

“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”

“i haven’t been avoiding you.”

“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”

you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”

he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”

“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.

“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”

“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.

“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”

he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”

it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”

“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”

“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.” his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”

either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.

your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.

kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.

so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.

he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.

“fuck.”

it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.

which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.

it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.

you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”

minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”

hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.

“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.

“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”

he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.

your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.

mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”

he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.

there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”

they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.

he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”

“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”

“it’s not that easy.”

seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

the other two just deadpan a stare at him.

on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.

you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.

the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.

as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.

“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”

when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.

personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.

biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”

“and? what’s your judgement?”

“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”

he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”

him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.

people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.

and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.

in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.

“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.

you exhale when he doesn’t.

knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.

minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.

as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”

“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”

he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”

you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”

“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”

taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”

minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”

the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”

he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”

you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”

hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”

with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.

there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.

“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

“mind if i join you?”

of course. why are you even surprised?

without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”

“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.

you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”

luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.

he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.

since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.

the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.

his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.

you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.

liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.

the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.

“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”

“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”

your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”

of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?

mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”

that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.

“can i ask you something?”

you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.

“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”

an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”

“why not?”

blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”

“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”

“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”

he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.

“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.

“no, you don’t.”

“how would you know?”

you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”

“why?”

“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”

“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”

“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”

mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”

“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”

“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”

“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”

“since… always.”

“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”

“no, but i liked you.”

“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”

“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”

“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”

it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.

every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.

but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.

another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.

the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.

“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”

his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”

the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”

it’s not often you’re speechless.

he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.

“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”

he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”

“have a good night, gyu.”

you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.

as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”

letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”

“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”

you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.

“why do you even want me to?”

“‘cause i like you.”

“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”

“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”

“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”

his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.

mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.

“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”

you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”

but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”

“why don’t you wanna try?”

“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”

“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”

“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”

“then explain them to me!”

“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”

“no, i wouldn’t.”

“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”

“how do you even know that?”

“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”

“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”

the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”

“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”

“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.

and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.

“i don’t wanna lose you.”

he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”

his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.

it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.

mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.

he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.

you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[sailorrhansol]

The Syndicates Collection

Collection Details: This collection contains individual fics with each member of SVT paired with a different reader that occur in the same universe/AU and timeline. Each story is a stand alone, but three of them do have a connected/overarching plot. You do not need to read all of them to understand what's going on, and all of the fics can be read as standalone one shots.

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Collection Warnings: Criminal behavior, morally gray characters, murder, depictions of violence and murder, general violence associated with mafia/criminal activity, recreational drug sale and use, depictions and mentions of death, recreational drinking and drug use - each individual fic will be heavily tagged and warned appropriately.

Main Masterlist | Tag List Request Form | Ask

CONNECTED WORKS

Baby | Omertà | Menagerie

FULL COLLECTION

Baby

↪ Soonyoung has been in your life for as long as you can remember. You haven’t spoken since your wedding to someone who isn’t him, but when you uncover your husband’s plans to turn against your family, you don’t know who else to call.  Read Full Fic → Here

Vengeance | Coming Friday, January 24

↪ You always knew you were different from a young age. The only person who has ever been able to understand you is Vernon. When things take a turn for the Choi Syndicate, your long-term relationship is put to the test. Read Teaser → Here

Til Death | Coming 2025

↪ Being the heir of a powerful family has it's benefits - you get to go to whatever parties you want, vacation places people only dream of, and meet all the powerful entities of the city. It also has it's struggles, like being forced to marry a man you don't know - except you do know Minghao, who was your one night stand only a week prior.

Cherry Sours | Coming 2025

↪ Nothing in your life ever comes easy. Not family, not money, and certainly not jobs to pay the endless stack of bills. The only thing easy are the smiles you give Chan when he comes into your convenient store the same time every Saturday to buy his cherry sours. And then one day he arrives late, and everything changes.

Street Demon | Coming 2025

↪ You've been street racing since you could reach the pedal of a car - it's the only thing you've ever been good at. When a rival decides they're tired of losing to you, Seungkwan steps in to show he's more than just a street racer.

Omertà | Coming 2025

↪ Omertà (n) /ˌōmerˈtä,ōˈmərdə/ - code of silence, honor, and conduct that emphasizes remaining silent when questioned by authorities or outsiders. Or Jeonghan makes sure you stay on top of paying off your father's debts by making you betray everyone you've ever known during a Syndicate war.

Kerosine | Coming 2025

↪ Jihoon knew growing up he would be expected to practice law like his mother, protecting the assets and the associates of the Choi Syndicate. He's had no problem doing that so far - until he gets you as a client.

Stitchuation | Coming 2025

↪ Working the late night shift at the ER in the dangerous part of town sucks. Finding out the two repeat patients you've been flirting with are roommates is worse.

Corrosive | Coming 2025

↪ Trying to unravel the Syndicates that run the city isn't what Seokmin ever dreamed he'd be doing. Turns out he's good at it. At least until he meets you and everything he knows about the city's criminal empires is turned on its head.

Gin & Tonic | Coming 2025

↪ There is little benefit to working the underground fighting ring that belongs to the Choi Syndicate besides good pay. Another one? Getting to watch Junhui in the cage most nights and serving him his gin and tonic after he wins.

Dead to Me | Coming 2025

↪ You and Joshua ended things on a terrible note and you haven't seen him since, doing your best to avoid him - that is until he comes to your untimely and most annoying rescue.

Menagerie | Coming 2025

↪ Choi Seungcheol has been struggling since he stepped into his father's role leading the family syndicate. Nothing has been easy, fighting a war against both known and unknown enemies. You're easy though, making all of his troubles float away. And then those troubles come knocking on your door.

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

#3 "i dare you to fuck me (hoshi)"

kinktober 2024 — #3

pairing: kwon soonyoung/ hoshi x reader

au/genre: smut, slightly fluffy (?), best friends!au

word count: 4293 words

warnings: brief nipple play, fingering (f receiving), not detailed oral (f receiving), awkwardness, a bet about orgasms, soonyoung has a big dick (how does this always happen?), piv sex (reader is on unspecified birth control), unrealistic stamina, cream pie 💞

a/n: I WUV HOSHI ���� also, can someone please count how many times i've described his body as muscular?

taglist: @rjreins @meowniee @deezbin @ant-onie @ablackbtsstan @gacktsa

"There just is no way you can do it, no one can!" A groan escapes you as you fall back onto your mattress, throwing a pillow over your face to hide your half-embarrassed, half-distressed feelings written all over your face. It's awfully quiet for a moment, and to have a peek to what you assume is happening, you remove the pillow, immediately being greeted with your best friend's face hovering mere inches in front of your own, signed with that look – and therefore be proven correctly.

"I think I can." Soonyoung grins, leaning in closer. His knees rest on each side next to your hips on the mattress, his hands creating deep imprints beside your shoulders as he stares down at you. Involuntarily, your breath hitches. You find yourself staring into his eyes, switching from one to the other as your own widen in realization that – maybe – you're not as much against the idea as you initially suspected.

Soonyoung is commonly known to be absolutely competitive. If everyone was backing down from a challenge, Soonyoung would be the last man standing, facing the difficulties and tearing them apart like a cheese grater. It is something you do admire about him, well, under normal circumstances that do not include your... your body.

"And I think you're being a creep," you announce, pressing your pointer finger to his forehead to push him away. With a whine, he compliantly retracts, a pout forming on his lips, all while you feel like you can finally breathe again. With a scoot, you sit up against the headboard, switching between looking at your best friend and fighting your hardest battle of trying not to look at him. 

"Well, I think you're not giving me a chance," he states, criss-crossing his toned legs that you probably shouldn't gaze upon right now to stand your point, but how could you when they're practically begging for you to bite into their muscly flesh?

"Well, I think-" You're forcing your eyes to take in anything but his thighs – a quest hard enough to bring even the strongest soldier to their knees in defeat – "that would cross boundaries that can't be un-crossed."

The playful glint in his eyes disappears suddenly, leaving him to contort his brows in concern. "For real?"

"I mean, yeah?" Your shoulders tense up and your fingers begin fiddling with a loose string on your sock. "Look, the thing is that I'm fine. I don't need to- you know."

The look he sends you is unbelieving, doubtful, unconvinced.

"It was just a random fact I threw into this conversation, I didn't mean for you to jump on the opportunity," you reason, hands gesturing weirdly in front of your chest.

"Alright, my bad," he grins and you thank the universe for the one thing that characterizes your best friend more than his competitiveness: his naivety to believe every lie you tell. Because if he'd tried convincing you for a minute longer, you would've presumably given in. It's not like you don't want to, it's not like the voice between your legs hasn't yearned for Soonyoung's touch once or twice or thrice or more in the past years of being friends. It's just that- how does one move on from that?

"Great!"

"I mean it's your choice if you don't want to cum." Soonyoung shrugs, eyebrows risen with a sly smile on his face as he turns his head, then side-eyes you.

"Exactly." You grin fakely.

"I mean, not to brag, but the feeling is pretty great."

"I know. I can do it myself."

"Sure, but" he sighs dreamily "it's different through the hands of another person."

"Weren't we going to play Mario Kart?" You ask through gritted teeth, trying to change the topic away from your sex-life. Soonyoung might be great at a lot of things, most things even, but how can you be sure he's good at this too? How does one move on from that – okay, maybe that’s somehow possible… but how does one move on from that failing miserably?

"Oh, of course," Soonyoung scoots to sit down next to you and presses a controller into your hands. You would like to say the cool material eases the sweaty feeling of your palms, but it actually intensifies, highlights the feeling, and you try your best to ignore how it threatens to glide from your wet digits every passing second. Not long after, the game starts with Soonyoung immediately taking first place. You try to concentrate, mood dropping when you have to, once again, realize that he is pretty much unbeatable. Saltily, you side-eye him, only to see a smug grin on his face. "What can I say, I'm pretty good with my hands."

"Oh, for God's sake!" You throw the controller down, crossing your arms over your chest and watch Soonyoung win the game just seconds later. Slowly, he turns his head towards you, grinning evilly.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiles sweetly and you huff, then get ready for the next round which goes by just as quickly as the first, and with the same outcome. Annoyed, you throw the controller across the bed only for it to bounce off the edge and hit the floor with a thump. 

"You seem pretty tense, maybe I should help you relax," Soonyoung grins, and you wish upon the Gods to either let the ground swallow you whole or to give you a way to wipe his awful smugness off his handsome features.

Maybe you could punch him. It would most certainly shut him up, but you're not a violent person. You like peace, you like the pigeons, and punching him would only result in the same outcome of a ruined friendship, but without the fun.

Maybe you could kiss him. It would also ruin the friendship, but at least you get half the fun. 

Maybe you should just go for broke.

"Okay," you simply say. Judging by the look that takes over Soonyoung's face, he is definitely surprised, but not opposed. He blinks, bottom lip pushing forward in disbelief.

"What?"

"Do it," you demand, grabbing the remote to turn of the TV (the Mario Kart Theme Song is not the ideal background music for getting intimate with your best friend, you decide) and lay down on your back. With a swift motion, you lose your pants, kicking them off your legs and down the bed to pool in a little jean-mountain next to the controller you'd sent off earlier.

Soonyoung looks like he's been petrified while looking at a pot of freshly made budae jiggae. It takes him another split of a second to collect himself before he comes crawling over to you. "Are you sure?" 

"I'm sure that if you don't do something right now I will kick you out and keep your switch," you answer blandly and, in the same breath, wonder when all of your uncertainty turned into passive-aggressiveness and impatience. 

"I didn't pressure you into this, right?" Soonyoung's stare into your eyes is so intense that a part of you melts, but a different part of you wants to show him, to prove him wrong. There is no one who's ever been patient enough with you to make you finish, so maybe it's your poor choice of men, maybe it's your body, maybe it's something else entirely. Of course it bothered you at first, but you've come to terms with it. That was until today. There is just no way that he can bring you an orgasm. It cannot be that simple.

"I swear to God-"

"Can I kiss you?" Soonyoung's voice sounds so soft, uncharacteristically soft. He's appeared besides you, finally settled in laying on his side, slightly towering over your form. The scent of his cologne meets your nostrils as you dare to look up at him, a dark gaze set upon his eyes that makes you gulp, throat drying up with the thought of what's to come.

"Just do whatever you need to-" You don't even get to finish before his soft lips press against yours. He slips his hand beneath your chin to lift it up the slightest bit for better access. His mouth moves gently against your own, obnoxious sounds of lips parting and connecting again litters the quiet room. Sounds that would usually make you gag upon hearing them, but something about it being him makes it okay, makes you not even realize. 

It's then when you notice his hand leaving your chin, trusting the way your lips move against his own that you will not pull away without the support. He traces your form, hand stroking over your sides to come to a quick halt at your hips. You gasp as he moves it up again to gently trace the outlines of your breasts through your shirt. 

Tingling sensations of want spray through your body like a miniature firework. Soonyoung knows how to touch you, even though he never has, not like that, and when his thumb brushes over your clothed nipple, you gasp against his lips.

You just know he's going to be smug about it, you're not even surprised when you feel him smirk against your lips before resuming to kiss you deeply, adding a little tongue to lick over your lower lip, not yet begging for entry.

His hand leaves your breast, and you feel a little disappointed until you realize he pushes your shirt upwards to create real, skin-on-skin contact with your nipple again. You'd be surprised at how easy it was for you to let yourself go for him, to let him in, to let him explore, if you could concentrate on anything but the way his self-declared skillful fingers are making you feel right now. 

With your shirt pushed further up to reveal your body to his eyes, his lips leave yours to attach to a nipple instead, sensually licking and sucking on the bud to leave you back-arched and hungry for more. You voice your wish, and Soonyoung, not without a chuckle, lets go of your breasts to kiss you once again. 

His hand leaves your chest to travel south, tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach briefly before exploring the sensitivity of your thighs. He traces soft patterns on the supple flesh, riling you up even more before finally attending to your clothed core. 

At the first touch, your eyes roll back behind closed lids, hips bucking into his touch as if having a mind of their own. You know he can feel how your wetness drenched the flimsy material of your panties, and when he finally reaches inside, you feel much less like needing to prove a point. To say his fingers feel good would be an understatement, you would even dare say that you've never had someone else’s touch feel this good.

Soonyoung glides a finger through your folds, collecting enough of your wetness to spread upwards over your clit, then begins circling it. The action makes you clench around nothing. He knows just how to touch you, and you start to believe that he might actually be able to make it happen.

His motions, speed and pressure intensify over time, making you grasp the sheets to keep yourself from thrashing around. At this point, you don't even realize the sounds you're making, nor the volume of them, only spurring Soonyoung on to keep touching you just like that. 

Pressure begins building. Your heart skips a beat, then hammers away at twice its original pace to make up for it. The familiar knot in your stomach keeps forming, you cry out, hands, touching everywhere at once to find the closure of knowing what to do with yourself, finding refugee on Soonyoung's shirt. Your lips are no longer connected, instead your forehead rests pressed against his, allowing your panting breath to tickle his lips.

It's happening, it's going to happen-

It’s… it’s gone.

As slowly as it came, it ended abruptly. It still feels good, everything feels so, so good. You feel yourself being on fire, every part of you yearns to feel Soonyoung, more of Soonyoung and Soonyoung everywhere. It's just not enough.

Whether he felt your build up and crashing or not, he does not seem to be ready to give up just yet, instead reaching down to insert a finger into your waiting hole, then another. His movements are neat, concentrated on making you see stars with the way he drags along your walls, pads of his fingers pressing upward to massage into your spot just right.

It builds, it builds, and it's gone.

Reading your signs, Soonyoung moves to lie between your legs. The absolutely drenched material of your panties meets the floor moments later before Soonyoung dives in, lips and tongue connecting to form a firework of sensations between your legs. But it's just not enough, you realize, and you feel like crying. It can't be, he is doing everything right, better than right, so why isn't it working?

"S-Soonyoung-" you bring out. "It's not- it's not working."

"Are you sure? I mean, I could-"

"I can't. It's not going to happen."

"Just let go-"

"I can't!"

"Please-"

"Just let it go!"

It's not awkward, it just feels a little weird. None of you had realized just how much time Soonyoung spent between your thighs, and the reality came crashing down on you as you looked at your phone to overcome the awkward silence, showing numbers that indicated that Soonyoung's last bus was gone for good and there was no way for him to get home.

Hence, the two of you stare holes into the darkness lying next to each other on your bed about half an hour later. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't-" Soonyoung whispers into the quiet room.

"That's why I told you, it's impossible," you whine, hiding your face in your hands even though he can't see you anyway. 

"Was it... just not good in general?" The uncertainty in Soonyoung's voice is uncharacteristic for him, voice usually overflowing with confidence to a point where it's almost unbearably annoying sometimes. It makes your heart ache.

"No, you were not the problem. You did... everything right, to be honest. I don't want to stroke your already massive ego too much, but I've never been touched like that," you admit, turning to your side to face where you assume him to be.

"Phew," he says, and you can hear the playfulness in his voice clearly. You roll your eyes, but crack a smile. Rustling noises coming from Soonyoung's side of the bed, paired with dipping motions of the mattress that let you guess that Soonyoung's turned to face you as well. Carefully, you reach out to touch him.

"That's my f-, I swear to God if your finger ends up in my nose, that's your problem- no wait, I'll turn on the light," Soonyoung says and follows his own words with actions, and you giggle, closing your eyes to shield them from the stinging brightness of your lamp and scooting your body closer to Soonyoung until you can feel the warmth radiating from his body not only on your hand, that's touching his chest. It's silent for a minute.

"It was really good..." you admit again, Soonyoung's scent reminding you of the happenings earlier, and maybe this is your subconsciousness telling you to try it again, but you're unaware of it.

"If I didn't know any better, I could swear you're trying to fuck me right now," Soonyoung laughs and earns slaps to his chest from you until he has enough and grabs your wrist. "For real though..."

"What?"

"Let's try it again- wait! Hear me out," he warns, and you shut your opening mouth in defeat. "Let's make it a competition, whoever cums first has to buy ice cream tomorrow."

"Ice cream?" You mumble, head spinning a little at his eagerness to try again. You can't believe that this is only his competitiveness speaking, yet you can only speculate the reason why he is so head over heels at the idea of being intimate with you again.

"Ice cream," he confirms, but the tone of his voice dropped in both deepness and volume. A tingling sensation washes over your body, causing your breath to come out shakily as you subconsciously press yourself closer to Soonyoung.

"But isn't ice cream like really cheap? Shouldn't we compete for something a little more... expensive?" You don't notice how your tone changed as well, making it sound like you're unintentionally purring your words.

"It's not about the ice cream, silly," Soonyoung tsks, making you look up at him once again by lifting your chin, "I just want you."

You whimper at that, and fortunately, Soonyoung is quick enough to pull you into another kiss before you can feel embarrassed about your shameless display of attraction. Quickly, the kiss gets heated, yet not hasty, no teeth clashing, no lips crashing, just raw desire and a little too much spit. It’s perfect.

Soonyoung’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer, before shamelessly reaching for the supple flesh of your ass, generously groping a cheek with his hand, making you whimper once again, uncoordinated hands tugging at his shirt, wanting it off, wanting to see the bulky richness of the body you know he’s sculpted to upmost perfection at the gym in the past years.

Following your desperate request, Soonyoung pulls the fabric over his head, he himself too affected to even act cocky about you wanting an opportunity to visually take in his beefy torso, instead panting softly as his intense gaze meets yours.

Though not for long, as yours immediately falls to his strong chest, muscles visibly bulging through his skin, and you can feel yourself gulping from drooling so much. Your nimble fingers quickly find their way onto his skin, softly exploring the wide expanse of muscle paradise as your lips find his again. 

Soonyoung softly grunts into your mouth as your fingertips briefly circle his assumably sensitive nipple, then softly pushes you onto your back to hover above you effortlessly, strong arms wrapping around your figure before pulling your shirt off as well.

The in between is a bit of a blur, every glimpse at Soonyoung's body enough to get your head spinning, every one of his touches feeling electric with how turned on you are, and soon, there's not a layer of clothing separating you. 

Soonyoung reaches down gently, spreading your folds with his fingers to find your wetness greeting him once again, insisting on preparing you for what's to come as he softly kisses along your neck.

This time, you feel, he's less determined, there's no goal in his mind, he genuinely wants to explore the depths of you, every little part he missed in his determination earlier. But that doesn't make it any less mind blowing.

“You’re so… perfect,” he mumbles into your neck, the sound almost getting lost in your gasps and soft moans as he stretches you with three of his digits. 

“Soonyoung…” you whimper needily, trembling hands running down his body, reaching their destination as you wrap a hand around his length. 

“Fuck, you’re big,” you gasp in mild surprise, unable to hold back the implied compliment, and the charged atmosphere briefly lightens as Soonyoung lets out a soft chuckle. 

“You want it?” He asks, and it’s not only a question of if, but also him trying to gauge if you're ready for him yet.

“Mm,” you hum in approval, hooded eyes hazily looking up at him as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Soonyoung lets out one last breathy chuckle before aligning himself with your entrance, intense gaze meeting yours as he carefully shifts forward, his tip briefly catching on your hole before sliding inside.

Your breath hitches at the stretch despite his preparations, yet you want more, you want all of him, all of Soonyoung as deeply as possible, and to never let him go. And he complies, slowly pushing deeper and deeper, every vein dragging deliciously along your walls that struggle to adjust to the intrusion.

With your eyes rolling back, you let out a soft groan, hands grabbing onto his bulging biceps for any form of stability as your head spins, his tip seeming to slide deeper endlessly, his cock filling you to the very brim before he finally bottoms out.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung grunts softly, panting breaths leaving his parted lips, eyebrows scrunched in a mix of raw pleasure and trying to hold himself back from just pounding into you right now.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing onto your thigh to adjust it around his waist before stroking all the way over the flesh of your ass and up your waist where he rests his hand to hold you in place as he pulls back slightly, then thrusts experimentally.

A whine escapes your parted lips, fireworks going off behind closed lids, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy at the feeling combined with the mere reality of this situation. Soonyoung’s inside you, reaching depths that you’d naively describe as uncharted territory, and, God, he feels heavenly. And your body seems to agree, clenching automatically as if not wanting to ever let him pull out entirely again.

Soonyoung gasps, then buries his face in your neck again, lips attaching to your skin, peppering open mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach as he repeats his thrust before setting a slow yet steady pace.

Moans tumble from your mouth uncontrollably, the bet about ice cream long forgotten, as well as your uncertainty about whether you can even cum from someone else's touch. 

And Soonyoung takes you for hours, pushing your legs and body into every possible position one could think of, whispering sweet yet dirty nothings into your ear for only you to hear, and gifting you the best night of your life. 

By the time he announces that he's close, he’s a panting mess, a layer of sweat covering his muscular body while the wetness between your legs has increased to a point where it's almost too slippers, and yet all you feel is pure bliss.

“Cum in me,” you gasp breathlessly, your legs feeling like jelly at this point, “it’s fine… cum in me…”

With his last remaining strength, Soonyoung’s head snaps up, a look of pure astonishment on his face, “for real?”

“Y-yeah.. yeah, I’m-,” you interrupt yourself with a moan as Soonyoung’s thrusts pick up, “yeah..”

“Oh my God..” Soonyoung’s moans get whinier, a tad higher in pitch as he gets closer and closer. He’s managed to manhandle you back into your original position with you on your back, and his hands grip onto your waist to be able to piston his hips into you faster, his face buried in your neck as he grunts in pleasure, “oh, fuck, thank you…”

His thrusts get sloppier, almost losing their rhythm and all you can focus on is how his body slowly tenses up more and more, the veins on his strong forearms bulging as he moans your name into your neck needily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

Just as you open your mouth to encourage him once again, he picks up his pace yet again, pounding his hips into yours with such force and speed that it makes the bed crash against the wall repeatedly. It takes you by surprise, your back arching and your jaw dropping at the sudden overwhelming sensation, your nails digging into the skin of Soonyoung’s wide shoulders.

He pushes into you harder and harder, as if losing himself completely, his moans growing louder and louder, maybe a bit too loud for the time of night, but neither of you care, merely focused on the pleasure you’re both feeling. 

Soonyoung bottoms out again, once, twice, before pushing in impossibly deep, and you can physically feel the exact moment he orgasms, his length pulsating wildly and a warm sensation filling you, and that’s when it happens. 

With a soft, tired whine, you feel the knot in your stomach, that you didn’t even notice was forming, snap, your own walls clamping down around Soonyoung repeatedly, albeit rather softly and not as intense as Soonyoung’s high. It takes you a moment to realize.

Your eyes widen. Was that…? The same moment, Soonyoung’s head snaps up, his eyes as wide as your own. Oh, he felt it.

“Did you…?” He whispers, as if afraid that if he talked too loudly, it would turn back time and undo your orgasm.

With parted lips, you stare back at him, “I… y-yeah…”

You expected everything from a cocky remark over an ick-triggering victory dance to an actual orgasm-celebration party featuring everyone Soonyoung’s known since birth, but Soonyoung just leans back down and hugs you tightly. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper back. Hesitantly due to your surprise, you slowly brush your fingers through his hair, suddenly deeply in thought.

Soonyoung actually made you cum? And it was… that easy? Well, despite the fact that it took literal hours… and why did it happen when he- and generally, what now?

“Can I take you out on a date after getting you ice cream?” Soonyoung suddenly speaks up, too exhausted to lift his head once more so his voice gets muffled in your neck.

“Huh?” You ask, sure you must’ve misheard him.

“Date…” is all Soonyoung can mumble.

“You-,” you begin, but quickly shut up. Why not? “Yeah, why not?”

“Fabulous,” Soonyoung mumbles, then presses a wet kiss to your shoulder. A few minutes pass by before he speaks up again. “I’m feeling sticky. Are you feeling sticky? Let’s shower…” he lifts his head, then slowly begins grinning. “We can reminisce about this experience in there…”

Ah, there he is. 

© 2024 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.

[wooataes]

a wilted rose - ljh

pairing: mafia boss!lee jihoon x fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, hurt and comfort, mentions of violence and guns, injuries, bruises, crying, swearing, implied murder, slight fluff, jihoon being protective (yes, that’s a warning)

summary: an unfortunate encounter has jihoon realize his true feelings for his wife.

a/n: toyed around with the idea of mafia!boss jihoon and this is what popped out 🙊 happy new year, friends!

- tae 💜🌸✨

Masterlist

Part Two? | Ask to be added to my taglist

Lee Jihoon’s family is known as one of the most feared Mafia families in South Korea, his great grandparents having made a reputation for themselves that has been held up for generations.

Jihoon was born an only child and singular heir to the Lee fortune and the Lee legacy; having known from a young age that he would eventually end up being the leader of the Lee clan. He knew the family business was dangerous, and since being taught the ropes at 13, he knew that his relationships could be used against him from rival clans. This reason alone caused him to be cautious and callous with who he associated with. He only has two important people he would consider his friends.

His closest friend, Kwon Soonyoung also doubles as his right hand man. Both men grew up together due to Soonyoung’s father being close with Jihoon’s. Their frequent meetings caused the young men to be around eachother for long bouts of time, eventually being homeschooled together while their father’s talked business. For Jihoon, Soonyoung is the one and only person he could trust on this earth- time and time again, he has always proved his unchallenged loyalty to Jihoon and his father’s family. If Jihoon was irrational and unfiltered, Soonyoung was his voice of reason and his level-headed decision maker. To him, it was a match made in heaven.

The second person he considered his friend, or used to, was you. You came into both Jihoon and Soonyoung’s life at 8 years old, your family having been hired by Master Lee to work as live-in staff in their mansion. You were the only other child Jihoon and Soonyoung’s age, and despite Master Lee’s cold heart, he grew to treat you like his daughter and let Jihoon frequently spend his younger years playing with his two closest friends when they weren’t being homeschooled together until he was of age to get into the family business.

12 months ago, when Jihoon had just turned 25, Master Lee announced his soon to be retirement to his son. The only condition for Jihoon to step up to be head of the family business was simple but to Jihoon, was absolutely atrocious.

“I don’t understand why you think me marrying would be advantageous to the family, father.” He hisses, adjusting his chain around his neck, glaring at the stupid red rose, the Lee family staple, perfectly pinned to his lapel.

“It is not to a random woman, Jihoon.” Master Lee frowned.

“That makes it worse!” He barked, leaning his head back in frustration.

“Jihoon. You have to know that no one can be trusted in this business. I am not allowing you to marry outside of who we trust. They can slither their way into your heart and when you are at your most vulnerable, they take everything out from under you. If the enemy knows you’re committed to someone already, it keeps them from hurting us from the inside.”

“Yeah, it also makes Y/N the number one target to the enemy and they will try and swipe her away from under our noses!” He’s yelling now.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he cares too much for you. You’re too good to be associated with the dastardly business that is associated with being in the mafia; you’re a good hearted person who happily serves the Lee family alongside your just as good parents. You’re the one good thing that Jihoon has left, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t protect you.

“It’s not like you’re going to be parading her out for missions and stake outs.” Master Lee frowns. “She is only for the parties. So others know that you’re a committed man that will not waver. I guarantee you she will be protected. She will be treated like a queen in here, and she won’t ever have to see the dark side of the business. Son, I promise you.”

For 12 months, Jihoon, in the public eye was the perfect model husband with you. He stayed by your side faithfully at galas and parties, parading you around with a look of what was perceived as adoration by others. Behind closed doors however, Jihoon treated you like a ghost. Long gone was your once closest friend who you stayed up late with to binge watch stupid movies, playing video games and pranks on Soonyoung. The only thing that remained was a quiet man that only greeted you for one meal a day, to his insistence for the sake of ‘normalcy.’ In your opinion, it felt anything but. Your attempts at conversion were shut down with one worded answers or sometimes none at all, and over time, you grew to enjoy your meal with your husband in silence before going about your day around the Lee mansion alone.

Jihoon thought his father’s plan was working. For 12 months, his wife was safe and protected and never got caught up with any of the mafia business. He was in alliance with most rival clans and worked out plans and deals to work for the foreseeable future.

Sadly for Jihoon, Master Lee was full of shit.

Jihoon is frantic. The staff had alerted him while out for a meeting with an ally clan that you had been injured. They were intentionally vague with details, knowing their boss would fly off the handle at the extent to what your injuries were.

“She’s at home.” Jihoon hears Soonyoung’s voice over the phone.

“What the fuck happened, Soonyoung.” He is sure he is making his driver break at least 10 different road laws right now to get back to the mansion. He makes a mental note to contact the local police and send some generous gift baskets.

“The guards don’t know. I’m trying to get it out of them, but no luck yet.”

“She shouldn’t have been out unsupervised.” Jihoon winces, rubbing at his temples. “Tell them if they don’t give you an honest answer by the time I’m back, I will have their tongues.”

“Just go to her right now, Hoon-ah.”

Marching into the living room, Jihoon makes his presence known by the heavy thuds of his boots on the tiled floor. His eyes scan the room until they finally land on you, his childhood friend and arranged wife, sitting anxiously on the couch. He feels his eye twitch at the sight of no guards in sight, you having been left alone since you have returned.

You lift your head up shakily, your eyes widening at the sight of your husband. His long hair, usually sported in a bun atop his head is now strewn about and falling out of the elastic holding it together, suit jacket scrunched and twisted, red rose nowhere to be found. You’re astonished, having grown so used to seeing your husband with his perfect red rose on his lapel at all times. What you didn’t know that after having found out about your capture, he thrown it to the ground in frustration of his worst fears coming true.

“Jihoon?” You blink nervously.

This is the first time you’ve seen him properly (minus your daily lunches) for maybe a month. He stares intently across the room at you, scanning your body. You’re cradling your left wrist in your hand, a bruise in the perfect shape of a hand print forming around your wrist. His eyes lift to your face, his blood boiling at the sight of a small cut across your cheek, your right eye swelling up and starting to turn purple.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “I know I shouldn’t have-“

You flinch at the sight of Jihoon striding forward, only to pause when he walks straight past you and into the kitchen, causing your shoulders to deflate. You were stupid to think your best friend had come back for only a moment. You sink sadly into the couch, curling up slowly.

Your head stays facing down at the floor as you run your fingertip over the hand print on your wrist, wincing and hissing as you press a little too hard. You sigh after a moment, moving to stand up before you pause at the sight of Jihoon’s expensive dress shoes directly in front of you.

You look up nervously at him as he reaches out, delicately taking your wrist, face neutral as he runs his fingers gently over the bruise just like you had done, eyebrows furrowing. You shiver slightly, this being the first physical contact you have felt from your husband in months. Next, he reaches forward and tucks a stray hair behind your cheek before examining the darkening bruise over your eye. At this, you see his eyes darken, heaving a heavy sigh through his nose.

“Who the fuck did this to you.” His voice is soft as he eyes you.

“I-I…”

“I need to know who did this.” He pleads.

“It was Hwang.” You whimper.

His jaw clenches. Hwang has sworn vengeance against the Lee family ever since Master Lee cut ties and alliances with the Hwang’s over his unethical practices. In Hwang’s words, he wanted to poison the perfect garden of roses that Master Lee built.

“H-he said it was a warning..” you can’t look Jihoon in the face. “T-to keep your wife on a leash or else something could happen. Jihoon, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have gone out, I didn’t want to cause any more trouble.” You’re crying softly now, wincing at the pain that your swelling is causing.

You tense up as you feel something cool delicately rest on your cheek, opening your eyes to see your husband holding an ice pack gently to your face. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he moves you so you’re sitting down on the couch once more.

“You stay here until Soonyoung gets back to look after you, okay?” He instructs you as you just stare at him, bewildered. “Do you hear me, Y/N?” You nod your head slowly as you cradle the ice pack to your cheek. “Good.”

You watch Jihoon turn around and march back towards the front door of the mansion, pointing to Mr Kim, one of the guards who has been in Jihoon’s family for years. “Make sure no one comes inside this mansion except for me and Soonyoung. You guard her with your life until he gets here.” The man nods his head sternly as he moves to stand in the doorway between the living room and the entryway.

“J-Jihoon? Where are you going?” You ask nervously as your husband adjusts the gun holster around his waist, his voice cold and deadly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m going to kill the fucker who thought he could touch my wife and get away with it.”

And with that, the door slams behind him, leaving you alone with Mr Kim eyeing the door sternly.

You stay anxiously in the living room for what feels like an eternity, waiting to hear anything from Jihoon or his guards. You jolt at the sound of the door after only 15 minutes of sitting in silence, breathing a sigh of relief as you see Soonyoung rush inside and run straight towards you.

“Soon…” you whimper as he meets you halfway, immediately pulling you close and hugging you to his chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He breathes out, shaky. “The one fucking day I had to go run some errands…”

You hate the fact that Hwang probably waited for Soonyoung to be away from you to strike.

“Soon, it’s fine…” you whisper, wincing as he pulls away to look down at your face, closely examining your swelling eye.

“It’s not fine, look at you!”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” You whisper, and he just sighs with frustration, leading you to the couch and sitting you up against the cushions, laying a fluffy blanket over you.

“You’re going to sit here and we are going to watch some tv until Jihoon-ah gets back, okay?” He settles down beside you.

“Soonyoung, you can go have a shower or eat or something...” Your voice is low as he scrolls through random movies to play on Netflix.

“Nope.” He made a promise to stay with you until Jihoon gets back, and he will stay true to his word. Eating and washing up can wait.

“Y/N-ah.” Soonyoung glances at his phone after a few hours. The ice pack against your cheek is now lukewarm, your legs having shaken non-stop since you’d been forced to sit down.

“Hm..” you hum in response.

“Jihoon-ah will be home in 5 minutes. He asked for me to give you both some privacy and take care of some clean-up. Will you be okay with Mr Kim watching you?”

“Okay.” You respond nervously, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Soonyoung gently touches your good cheek with his finger.

“I’ll be in the other room making calls if you get scared between now and then. Okay?”

“Thank you, Soonie.” You whisper, looking up at him with a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles back before turning around and walking down the hall, leaving you alone once more as the panic begins to rise in your body.

You’re lucky you don’t have to wait long, as true to Soonyoung’s word, Jihoon steps inside his mansion and into the living room not even 5 minutes later, heaving a sigh. When you spot him, you rush quickly to him, immediately noticing the blood on his shirt and causing you to panic even more.

“Oh god.. you’re bleeding, what have I done? Your father will have me for this.” You quickly try to wipe the blood off his shirt (which you’re relieved to realize isn’t his). Jihoon surprises you both as he reaches forward to take your injured wrist again, pulling you to him and wrapping his arms tight around your waist.

He pulls your head into the crook of his neck, squeezing you to him as his chin rests on top of your head, grip tight on your shirt. You’re shaking before you just melt into his embrace, holding onto his jacket tight as he hums.

“Are you okay.” When you just nod, he pulls back to look into your face. “I need to hear it from you, Y/N. Please… just humor me.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, Hoonie.” You breathe out with wide eyes.

Why does he look so scared?

He sighs with finality before he pulls you back to him, hugging you tight for the first time since he was forced to hold you at your wedding over 12 months ago.

“We will need more security.” He mumbles to you as he holds you tight. “Guards at every post. When we go out, when you’re out in the garden, everywhere. It’s clear they know your schedule so we need to throw them off your scent.” He is talking a mile a minute as he keeps you close to his chest, afraid you’d slip away. “As a precaution, I will have guards sweep the house for any bugs they could have planted. Tonight, we will sleep in the safe house. Is that okay with you, Y/N?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You whisper, your face buried in his shirt. You don’t want to leave his side as much as he doesn’t too - this being the most affection you’ve gotten from someone in 12 months.

“Fuck.” Jihoon didn’t account for the fact his safe house only had one king size bed. “You can take the bed, okay… I can take the couch.”

“Don’t be silly.” You hum, already dragging him to the bed. “We’re both adults here. I think we can handle sharing a bed. We used to in school, right Hoonie?”

“I mean yeah, but we weren’t married then.”

“We’re only married on paper. Why are you being so iffy?” You laugh, wincing as your smile hurts your bruising cheek. Without thinking, he reaches out to cup your face worriedly, examining the bruise before rushing out to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a small ice pack to press to your cheek.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you were close, Hoon. Please.” You ask quieter now as he rocks awkwardly on his heels.

“Only until you’re asleep.” He bargains, and you nod quickly.

“Deal.”

After an awkward intermission of you both getting ready to share the bed for the first time since your wedding, you’re finally drifting off, curled up beside your husband as he sits up against the bed head, stiff as a board in sweatpants and a large jumper. Jihoon lays on top of the blankets so he can make an easy get away when you fall into a deep sleep.

He’s about to up and leave as your breathing evens out, thinking you’re asleep when he feels you shift. You scoot closer, hand finding his as your head nestles comfortably against his shoulder. You visibly relax at his warmth, your shaky hands slowing to a stop as you essentially glue yourself to his side. He tenses up, looking down at you with wide eyes as you finally fall asleep. He frowns deeply at the sight of your bruise showing before aggressively sighing to himself and wrapping his free arm around you to hold you against his chest. He is unable to resist your cuteness. That, and he wants to protect you, of course.

Jihoon refuses to sleep a wink in case someone tries to break in, but after hour four of him stroking your arm delicately with his cheek resting on top of your forehead, he feels himself drifting off.

When he wakes up, he sees you’re still cuddled up to him, but almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Soonyoung standing at the foot of the bed with a knowing smirk on his face.

“It took you long enough to treat your wife like she is your wife.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hisses out as quietly as possible to not wake you, his cheeks bright red. “If she wakes up, I’ll have your head.”

“I’m sure you will.” He winks.

“Kwon Soonyoung I swear to god if my wife wasn’t sleeping against me right now, you’d be six feet under.”

“Mhm~” he sing songs, stepping out the bedroom door.

“If you tell anyone, you’re dead.”

ljh taglist

@breakfastburritosattiffanys @mar-627 @milopenne @lanatheawesome @sunnynapp @jaeminsbuckethat @opheliaas-stuff @hotricewoozi@lavayeon @seventeenthingsblr @zaggprincess2 @markleehee @kwanniesboo @beardedartgamingbakery @iarayara

permanent taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sun-daddy-yoriichi @coveyland @side-angel @rinalouu @flwerrchild @apobangpowrld @ldysmfrst @adeptiixiao @lisaaaaamanobannn @jovialpartyneckoaf @sarahisupset

[seungkw1]

the truth is out there — csc

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader ♡ theme: x-files au ♡ wc: 8.2k ♡ warnings: none ♡ a/n: started rewatching the x-files recently and the idea of this popped into my head so i simply had to write it!! also, y/ln refers to ‘your last name’ bc ya know. agent stuff.

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

When you joined the FBI you didn’t expect to end up working in the basement with a peculiar agent obsessed with all things extraterrestrial, but your new assignment is certainly taking you places you’ve never been before.

10 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

taptaptap

The light knocking on your desk pulls your focus away from the almost-completed report on the screen of your monitor. Most would call report writing the boring part of the job, and while you don’t necessarily disagree your high levels of attentiveness allow you to efficiently plug away at the otherwise mind-numbing task - so, you don’t mind it so much. That is, unless you are interrupted. 

“Hey Frenchie, the Bergmeister wants to see you.” 

Stifling a sigh, you look up at your bothersome coworker, Soonyoung, who is currently leaning over your desk while eating a sandwich. You grimace as you see the multitude of crumbs he’s managed to drop all over your paperwork in the five seconds he’s been standing there.

“What does he want?” you ask, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

“Didn’t say,” he mumbles through the large bite he just stuffed into his mouth.

The Bergmeister is the inane moniker Soonyoung and his pals call your supervisor, Assistant Director Bergman, behind his back. Frenchie is the irritating nickname nearly half the office now calls you, to your face, due to an unfortunate incident involving French dressing and the light gray pantsuit you chose to wear on your very first day on the job. You figured they’d get tired of it after a few days, but that was several weeks ago at this point - and much to your chagrin it seems to have stuck.

You give Soonyoung a very obviously fake grin to accompany your obviously sarcastic response. “Thank you, Agent Soonyoung - helpful as always.”

Soonyoung winks at you. “For you? Anytime.” You imagine grabbing his sandwich and bopping it on his head. 

The muted sounds of landlines ringing, keyboards clacking, and fax machines whirring drift past your ears as you walk steadily to Bergman’s office, maintaining a false air of confidence as to mask your anxiety. You’ve never been called into his office alone in the two months you’ve worked for the FBI - you quickly leaf through your mind for anything you’ve done that could be a potential mistake, but you come up empty handed. 

Bergman’s door is ajar - you rap your knuckle against it twice as you step inside. He peers up at you through thick, round lenses. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes, come in, have a seat - and shut the door behind you.”

The heavy door closes with a deep thunk. As you lower yourself into the chair facing the desk you notice you’re joined by a man you’ve never seen before. He says nothing, but looms in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette. 

“I’ll spare you the bullshit, Y/ln,” Bergman starts. He looks more tired than usual. “Have you heard of the bureau’s division known as the ‘x-files’?”

You feel your normally stoic face contort into a confused expression. Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“Well, yes, sir… but isn’t that an unofficial department?”

He takes a sip from his styrofoam cup of coffee. “Correct - it’s not official, but I assure you it is very much a ‘functional’ operation.” He all but rolls his eyes at functional. 

You shoot a glance at the unintroduced man in the corner, but he remains expressionless. Bergman continues. 

“I’m sure by now you’re well aware of the reputation surrounding this subsect and its…proprietor, shall we say.”

You give a single nod. By your second day in the office you’d heard all about the x-files: cases allegedly involving aliens, the supernatural, and all sorts of nonsense you chalked up to pure baloney. You’d also learned of the lone employee who spearheads the whole operation from the bureau basement: Agent Choi. Nobody seems to take him, or it, seriously - so much so that you had begun to doubt if it was even a real department, and if Choi even existed. But apparently, the rumors were true. 

“I am not at liberty to discuss the reasons behind this decision,” Bergman tells you, “but all you need to know is that this assignment is significant in nature.”

Assignment?? Surely he doesn’t mean…

“I’m not sure I understand,” you ask hesitantly, “am I-”

“Being assigned to the x-files? Yes.”

Your stomach lurches. You open your mouth to inquire what exactly it is you’ve done wrong, but clearly he anticipated this exact response. 

“This is not a punishment - though I certainly know why it might seem that way. But, it’s imperative that we receive reliable insight into the operations of this endeavor.”

You sit there in silence for a few seconds, dumbfounded. “So, you’re asking me to spy on Agent Choi.”

Bergman waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I know how this sounds. And essentially - yes, you will be our eyes and ears into this otherwise elusive project. Choi will know we’re sending you there to report back to us, but we don’t care. We are confident you will succeed in providing us with useful information.”

You wait for him to go on, to elaborate in any capacity, but apparently he’s finished. 

“Alright then, so when do I-”

“Immediately,” Bergman interjects. You purse your lips, trying to hide your displeasure. 

“Yes sir,” you reply as respectfully as you can muster. 

“Great. We’re counting on you, Y/ln.” You glance once more at the smoking man in the corner, but he remains silent. 

“Dismissed.”

You walk out of Bergman’s office, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. You have the misfortune of passing Soonyoung’s desk on the way back to yours - he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something annoying again, but you briskly zoom past him before he can get a word out. You make a beeline for your desk, grabbing only your purse and coffee cup before heading toward the elevator. 

X-files, here I come, I fucking guess. 

—-

Your eyes take a few seconds to adjust as you step into the dim basement. The elevator doesn’t come down to this level - you spent a good ten minutes trying to locate the correct stairwell that would even bring you here. You make your way through a seemingly endless hallway of dusty filing cabinets, forgotten boxes, and broken computers before you find yourself in front of a nondescript door, not quite shut - the only thing signifying that you’ve arrived at your destination being the makeshift paper name plate with S. Choi written in ink. You raise your fist to knock but before you can do so you hear a voice call out from inside. 

“Come in.”

You push the door in, its hinges giving you a high-pitched squeeeeak as it opens. You make a mental note to find some WD-40. 

The sad excuse for an office is equally dim-lit as the hallway, but it’s a sight to behold: a desk at the center of the room - neat, but stacked with newspapers and case files, a small lamp lighting up the open file in the desk’s center; a bookshelf nearly reaching the ceiling, overflowing with books on seemingly every topic under the sun; archival boxes stacked as tall as the numerous filing cabinets, which are also topped with more boxes; a massive bulletin board filled with articles and photos; but most notably, pinned the wall, is a poster featuring a flying saucer, accompanied with the text I WANT TO BELIEVE.

In the bizarre room sits a dark-haired man typing at his computer, his back to you. 

“I presume you heard me coming,” you state. 

“From a mile away,” he replies, still typing. 

You wait for him to turn around, say hello, anything - but the clickclack of his keyboard continues.

Several seconds pass, but the man says nothing. Apparently, it’s on you to break the silence.

You sigh under your breath. “I’m Agent Y/ln, I’ve been-”

“Assigned to the x-files to spy on me?” he interrupts, eyes still glued to the monitor. 

“They told me you’d know that,” you admit. 

The typing stops. Choi turns around, the heavy desk chair giving an unpleasant creak as he leans his elbow over its back, finally facing you. His appearance takes you by surprise: strong eyebrows, plump red lips, soft dark-brown eyes - you weren’t expecting to find such a handsome face attached to the man with a reputation for being a “crazy UFO freak”, in the words of your coworkers. He’s much younger than you anticipated too, around your age - and seemingly so… normal. His eyes do a quick scan of your figure - his expression barely changes, but a quick flash of interest tells you you’re not exactly what he expected either. It is extinguished almost immediately. 

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” His tone is passive, but you detect a hint of somberness in his words. His warm eyes lock onto yours. 

“Name’s Choi, but I’m sure you already knew that. You can call me Seungcheol, though.” If it was anyone else, you’d think it was flirtatious in nature - but you can tell that was not his intention.

“Okay. Well, Choi, what exactly am I to do here?”

An eager grin lights up his face. He rises from his chair, grabs a case file off the pile on his desk, and opens it - throwing it back down onto the desk, facing you.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

You quickly skim the details: a series of disappearances in a small town, all teenagers. So far, no bodies have been found. Local law enforcement has compiled a list of suspects, but they don’t seem to have many leads.

“Okay, so we have a potential serial killer.” 

Choi shakes his head. “That’s what the local police think. Which seems reasonable, unless you’re familiar with the location.”

You glance back at the file. Spirit Lake, Iowa.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s a known UFO hotspot. Sightings have been reported for decades, most notably in 1967 when there were three different sightings - one of which was caught on camera by two different witnesses.”

He hands you a stack of old polaroids. You flip through the grainy photographs, which all appear to showcase an ambiguous but distinct saucer-shaped object in the night sky.

You stare at your new partner. “Choi, this could be anything. Most so-called UFO ‘sightings’ are nothing more than aircraft that are very much from Earth.”

“The U.S. Weather Service officially stated that it was a weather balloon, however no weather balloons were launched within 500 miles that day. There were also no flights - civilian or military - on record for the area that night.”

“And have you considered that this could all just be a hoax?”

“Sure, it could be. But what if I told you that in 1967 there were also three recorded disappearances, all coinciding with the UFO sightings?”

He hands you a separate case file on the 1967 disappearances. All of the cases are closed, as the three who went missing eventually turned up again - unable to account for what happened to them, but otherwise unharmed.

You close the file, setting it on the desk. “So let me get this straight: you think these people were all abducted by aliens. And you think the exact same scenario is happening again, this year?”

“There have been three recent UFO sightings in the area reported, and we have three missing teens. It all matches up.”

You stand there in silence, at a loss for words. Guess everyone was right, you think to yourself. The man is insane. 

“Okay, let’s say you’re right,” you finally respond. “How exactly are we supposed to contribute here? Looks like they’ve already exhausted all leads. Why the hell do we need to fly out to Iowa?”

Choi gives a knowing smile. “They found the first girl this morning. Alive. Barely remembers anything, but unharmed.”

“And you want to go catch some little green men.”

“Actually, ‘little green men’ is a misconception - known encounters have widely reported extraterrestrials to be gray-skinned and not that much smaller than us. But anyway, more or less - yes, we’ll be in search of evidence that alien life is making contact with humanity.”

You stand there in disbelief. So this is where you’ve ended up - in the basement with a madman on a wild goose chase. As you’re thinking about quitting on the spot, Choi goes back to his computer.

“Anyway I’ll get us booked for the first flight out of here tomorrow morning,” he informs as he resumes his typing. “Want me to pick you up?

“No, that’s quite alright.”

“Suit yourself.” 

You wait for him to say something further, but he doesn’t. You turn to leave. As you approach the doorway you hear the creaking of his chair once more. Looking back, Choi is facing you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Agent Y/ln.” 

His expression is sincere. You may be stuck with a madman, but at least he’s not a complete asshole.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You feel Choi’s eyes follow you as you exit the room.

—

11 September 1993 Spirit Lake, Iowa

The gravel driveway crunches loudly as the rental car slows to a stop. Your partner shuts off the ignition and turns to face you, his left hand still resting on the wheel.  

“Ready?”

You glare back at him. “You’re acting like this is my first case, Choi. I’ve done this before.”

You open your door and exit the car before he can reply. You’ve barely gotten started on this investigation, but he’s already on your nerves. 

You approach the cottage-style house and ring the bell. A disgruntled-looking woman in her 40s opens the door.

“Mrs. Miller? I’m Agent Choi, and this is my partner Agent Y/ln.” You both raise your badges. “We’re here to speak with Alexandra, may we come inside?”

Mrs. Miller practically scowls at you. “She’s already spoken to the cops three times, leave us alone.” The door slams shut in your face.

You and Choi shoot a look at each other. You hear a voice shouting inside, followed by loud arguing. The door reopens to a young girl, high-school age, with jet black dyed hair, heavy eyeliner, and a nose ring.

“Ignore my mom, she’s a huge bitch,” the girl says as she steps outside, slamming the door behind her. She marches past you. “I’ll talk to you, let’s walk.”

Choi raises his eyebrows at you as he turns to follow the girl. You join him.

“You must be Alexandra,” he says to the girl, who is still walking.

“Alex,” she corrects. The girl finally stops, turning around to face you. “Are you going to take me seriously or are you just going to laugh in my face like the cops did?”

“I believe you,” your partner assures her. 

The girl turns to you, arms crossed. “I take it you’re the skeptic then?” Before you can respond she continues. “Trust me, I am too. I’ve always heard all the stories growing up about the abductions in this town, but I thought it was all bullshit. But I don’t know how else to explain what happened to me.”

“Can you start from the beginning?” Choi asks.

The girl sighs. “Yeah, sure. I was driving home from my friend Becky’s house, by myself. It was pretty late, like around 9pm. I was on Campbell Road, I had just passed the old schoolhouse. It was dark as shit and nobody else was around. Then suddenly there was this crazy bright light, it was all around me and I couldn’t see anything. I remember slamming on my breaks, but I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t know how long I was out, but I do remember waking up a few times and I swear I was in some like laboratory or something. I was laying down but I couldn’t move - I could just barely make out some figures standing over me. Then, next thing I know I’m walking down the road again, right where I was driving. No fucking clue how I got there. A deputy found me and took me to the hospital. They told me I was gone for six days. I had to talk to the cops like a hundred times, but there was nothing else wrong with me so they sent me home. And now everybody thinks I’m fucking crazy.” 

“Nobody believes you, then,” your partner empathizes.

“The cops think I’m lying and that I ran off with my ‘boyfriend’ for a week,” she scoffs. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. But of course that’s what my mom believes now, so now I’m fucking grounded.”

“I’m sorry,” Choi tells her sincerely. 

“Do you have any connections to the others who have gone missing?” you ask.

Alex shrugs. “I mean, we all go to school with each other, but I don’t really know them.”

Choi finds a piece of paper and a pen in his jacket pocket and scribbles something on it, then hands it to the girl.

“This is where we’re staying, if you remember anything else give us a call.”

On the drive back, Choi appears to make a wrong turn. 

“You were supposed to go left,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “I want to check out the location where Alex was taken from.”

“Why?” you ask, “There’s nothing there. When they found the car they towed it.”

“Just want to check it out.”

You can tell you’re not going to get any further answers out of him, so you just sit there in silence, listening to whatever is on the local radio playing quietly in the background. Your stomach starts to rumble, so you glance at the clock: 4:54pm. No wonder, you think to yourself. You hadn’t stopped for lunch, so you were well overdue for a meal. You made a mental note to look out for restaurants on the way back.

“There’s the schoolhouse,” Choi points out a few minutes later. “We must be close.”

The sound of static fills the car as the radio cuts out. You fiddle with the knob, trying to find something else, but nothing is coming in. Guess we’re out of range.

Suddenly, the car goes silent as the engine dies. You’ve barely rolled to a stop when your partner jumps out of the car and starts running back the way you came.

“Where the hell are you going??” you shout after him. No response. With a sigh you exit the car as well. You see him standing in the road, looking at the ground. He turns as he hears you coming, pointing down to the road. 

“See the tire marks? This must be where Alex hit the brakes.”

You look at the ground to see the black marks, indicating a car had braked abruptly.

“Our car shut off right as we passed this exact spot,” he says excitedly, jogging back to the rental car. As you follow, you hear him trying the ignition a few times, until the car finally turns back on. 

“Look,” he commands as you re-enter the passenger seat. He points to the digital clock on the dashboard: 5:11pm. “What time do you have?” 

You glance at your watch: 4:56pm.

“Many instances of alien activity result in residual electromagnetic fields. It’s often been reported that those visiting such sites will experience ‘missing time’, a phenomenon we appear to have just experienced.”

The look on his face is energized - borderline excited. You stare back at him, unenthused.

“Choi, just because my watch is wrong doesn’t mean we time traveled.”

“Then why did the car turn off in this exact spot?”

“It’s a machine, cars malfunction sometimes,” you respond, nearly exasperated. “You’re trying to connect dots that aren’t even here.”

“These events happening in tandem indicate that something abnormal is going on here, Y/ln. You’re choosing to ignore substantial evidence.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, holding your head in your hands.

Choi shifts the car into drive and makes a u-turn. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“That’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said all day.”

He smiles, but says nothing.

On the drive back into town, you subtly watch him out of the corner of your eye. He drives in silence, but you can tell he’s deep in thought - about what, who knows. Despite his ridiculous antics and asinine beliefs, you admit that his passion is oddly inspiring. You find yourself starting to grow fond of your new partner for some strange, inexplicable reason. 

You push that thought to the back of your mind.

—

13 September 1993

“Can you hand me the Ramos case file?”

You look around for the requested file, to no avail. You joined Choi in his motel room early in the morning to review case files, which is proving to be incredibly difficult as he is apparently one to haphazardly leave shit all over the room while he is working. 

You finally locate the folder and toss it over to him. “You know, this might be easier if the entire place wasn’t an absolute disaster zone.” 

“I like to call it organized chaos,” he says proudly.

It has been six days since the second kid, Mark Ramos, disappeared - and Choi is convinced that he’ll be “returned” today, given that Alex was found after the same amount of time. So, much to your displeasure he planned for you two to stake out the location where he was last seen: the parking lot of the gas station corner store where the boy works.

“Wow, that sounds enthralling,” you told him, deeply sarcastically. 

As you are wrapping up prepping for the stakeout, the landline on the nightstand rings.

Your partner reaches and grabs the phone, stretching the cord across the room and placing the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he continues working. 

“Choi,” he answers curtly.

You hear a muffled voice on the other end utter a few sentences before he stops what he’s doing. A tired look washes over his face.

“God fucking dammit. Alright, thanks.” He slams the phone back onto the base.

“They just found the kid. We missed it.”

You’re secretly relieved that you don’t have to go sit in a car for hours now, but you keep that to yourself. He’s clearly peeved, and although you’ve never witnessed his bad side you’re discerning enough to know that you don’t want to be on it.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally.

To your surprise, he walks over to the bed - where you’re sitting - and plops down onto it, holding his head in his hands.

You sit there awkwardly in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to do.

“Are you okay?” you finally ask.

Your partner sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just thought we had this one.”

You feel the urge to ask the question that’s been on the back of your mind since you met him, but he seems really dejected - and you don’t want to upset him. Fuck it, you decide.

“Can I ask you something?”

He lifts his head up, resting his chin on his interlaced hands as he looks over at you.

“Sure,” he answers. You find yourself starting to get lost in his big brown eyes, but you force yourself to snap out of it.

“Why are you so obsessed with aliens? I mean - it seems like more than just an interest for you. It seems… personal, almost.”

Choi exhales, closing his eyes. He sits up, leaning back onto his hands, staring into the distance with a sense of sadness in his expression.

“When I was 12, my younger brother and I were very close. We were three years apart, but we had so much in common.

He pauses, lost in thought for a moment. He continues.

“Jinsang and I always shared a bedroom. We had a bunk bed, he slept on the top bunk.” He smiles wistfully. “He loved it up there. Always called himself ‘king of the world’. Even as he got older, he never lost his childlike wonder. He was the definition of pure at heart.”

You listen solemnly. You honestly were expecting some off-the-wall answer from him - you didn’t anticipate that it’d be anything so serious.

“Late one night, I was supposed to be asleep, but I was reading a book under the covers with my flashlight. Suddenly there was a blinding light that filled the room, and a deafeningly loud whirring noise that made me cover my ears. I pulled the blanket off me, but the only thing I could make out was some dark figures standing in the room. I couldn’t see who it was, so I assumed it was my parents. I called out for them, but the figures didn’t move. It was so loud and so bright. I was terrified.

Then - I heard my brother scream. He was screaming for help, but I was paralyzed. Suddenly everything stopped. The light and the sounds disappeared in an instant. I looked where the figures were standing, but nobody was there. I didn’t hear my brother anymore either. I jumped out of bed to check on him - but he wasn’t in his bed. I started to panic. I told myself maybe he had run out of the room, but I knew I didn’t see or hear him climb down. I ran to my parents crying, ‘Jinsang’s gone!’ They searched the house, but he wasn’t there. They searched the neighborhood, thinking he had run away, but he wasn’t anywhere. The police investigation went on for months. They never found him.”

He rests his head back on his hands. You sit there silently, not knowing what to say. Your mind races, trying to process his words: So, he believes his brother was abducted by aliens? He may be strange, but he’s not mentally disturbed, I really don’t believe he would just make something like that up… But what can the explanation be? Is it a false memory created as a trauma response to his brother disappearing?...

“I’m so sorry,” you finally tell him. Without thinking you place your hand on his shoulder - but after a moment you realize how awkward that might be. He’s your assigned work partner - you met him three days ago. But, you feel his tension slightly ease - your touch seems to be relaxing him. Choi lets out a deep exhale and sits up - you quickly drop your hand back to your side. He rests his palms on the bed, just barely grazing your pinky finger. You hold your breath as a spark of electricity rushes through your body - you ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says sincerely. “I know how it sounds to other people. But that’s why I get so invested in these cases. I have to know the truth, Y/ln.”

You sit in silence for a few moments. 

“Well,” you finally speak as you get up, returning to the scattered files, “if your theory is correct we have one last chance.”

Choi perks up, a surprised look on his face. He stares at you for a moment, then grins as he processes what you just said. You grin back at him.

“Let’s go catch these sons of bitches.”

— 14 September 1993

Your stakeout plans are back on - this time you’ll be surveilling in the middle of the woods, by the lake, where the third kid had disappeared when camping with friends. Choi wakes you unnecessarily early with rapid knocking on your door. You answer in your pajamas, half asleep still. He invites himself into your room as he brushes past you and slams more files on the table. Turning to you earnestly, he begins to recant the game plan. 

“Choi,” you interrupt, trying to shut him up. He doesn’t hear you. He rambles on - practically bouncing with excitement.

“Choi,” you repeat, this time louder. He stops, his round eyes animated with enthusiasm. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s 6:30 in the morning. We’re staking out the location tonight.”

“And?”

“You could’ve at least let me sleep in til 7.”

“No time to lose!” he says eagerly as he turns back to his work, picking up where he left off. You let him yap for a minute before interrupting him once more.

“Can I at least get some coffee first?” 

You head to the nearby shitty diner together, Choi of course working through breakfast. You can tell through his excited state that he’s on edge. This has to go right - it is, according to him, the best chance he’s ever had. You spend the day going over everything, reviewing every last little detail - cooperating with whatever he needs, whether it be tactical or simply supportive. Before you know it the sun starts to go down, and you’re on your way to the middle of fucking nowhere together, to find some aliens.

Choi parks the car on the rocky path near the shore, killing the engine. It’s quiet out here - peaceful. The lake is bigger than you expected, and surprisingly beautiful as it reflects the painted colors of the sun-setting sky. 

“Romantic, isn’t it?” 

You turn and look at your partner, intending to make some snide remark, but all thoughts in your mind vanish when you see him. The golden tones of the dusk sunrays bring out a beautiful glow in his skin, his brown eyes radiating in the light; you knew he was good-looking, but seeing him this close - he is absolutely stunning.

The logical part of your brain starts setting off alarms - you know you should be feeling uncomfortable in the intimacy of the whole situation (he’s your coworker for gods’ sake!!) but it couldn’t be more opposite. The other part of your brain simply has the urge to lean in and kiss him.

“Mhmm, sure,” you reply, feigning sarcasm, veiling your true feelings.

You chat informally with Choi (“You can call me Seungcheol,” the memory of his words flashes through your mind), conversation flowing naturally as you both talk about whatever comes to mind. You find yourself laughing more often than not, and you find yourself relating to your partner more than you ever anticipated. It’s easy being with him.

Logical brain is absolutely screaming at you right now. There’s no fucking way you can allow yourself to develop feelings for your work partner - you know this. 

I’m allowed to like him as a friend, you say to yourself. You’re gonna be working with him for god knows how long, of course you need to get along. But you’re not convinced.

Conversation wanes into the night as darkness falls over the lake. You feel your eyelids grow heavy. Choi notices.

“You can sleep if you want,” he tells you. “I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“I’m fine,” you assure him. But it’s quiet, dark - and soon you feel yourself beginning to drift off.

VRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

You jolt awake, instantly blinded by the overpowering light surrounding you. A deafening booming noise permeates the air - you don’t know what it is, but it sounds like the rumbling of a thousand jet engines.

You can’t see shit, but you can tell Choi isn’t in the car. You heave open the passenger door, straining to push it open against the rush of wind engulfing the vehicle. Once your eyes adjust somewhat you find your partner about 15 feet away, camera in hand. You look up, but you can’t make out the massive object hovering over the lake - all you can see is five giant blinding spheres of light in the sky.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?” you scream to your partner - but he doesn’t hear you.

Suddenly, everything stops.

The lights, sound, and wind disappear in an instant. Disoriented in the dark, you stumble over to where Choi was standing, but you realize he’s gone - your eyes adjust and you see him sprinting down the lakeshore. In the distance you see another figure, laying on the ground. Choi approaches the figure, kneeling down next to it. You head toward them, but he turns to you and shouts from afar.

“CALL FOR BACKUP!!”

—

The figure on the beach indeed had been the missing boy. The ambulance rushed him to the hospital - but just as the previous two missing kids, he was okay. The next day you and Choi were able to get in and talk to him briefly before being shooed out by the nurse. It was the same story as the others - he didn’t remember anything, but he was completely unharmed.

Three out of three missing people now returned, safe and alive - your business here is done. You can finally get the fuck out of Iowa.

You’re pretty thrilled about leaving, but Choi is ecstatic. You remind him neither of you actually solved anything, but he doesn’t care. He got his photos of whatever the fuck was above the lake that night - it doesn’t answer all of his questions, but nevertheless he got what he came for.

It’s dark by the time you depart from the hospital, driving back to go pack up your things so you can leave first thing in the morning. 

Choi parks the car, and you walk back to your rooms. As you approach the motel, he suddenly swings his arm out in front of you to stop you - the door to your room is slightly ajar, the lock broken. Choi draws his gun, and you follow suit. Holding up his fingers, he silently counts down from three. He bursts through the door, sweeping the room. You follow, turning on the light to see the entire room has been utterly ransacked - the contents of your suitcase as well as all the files from your briefcase are strewn everywhere. 

Choi pops out of the bathroom. “All clear, but the bathroom window is open - if they were just here, they still might be nearby.” He sprints out of the room, pausing briefly and motioning for you to wait. “You stay here, I’ll sweep the area.” He’s gone in a flash.

You turn around and grimace at the absolute mess left behind by whoever the fuck was here. With a sigh you begin to clean up the mess, starting by gathering all the documents. As you sort through them all to put them back in some sort of order, you note that everything seems to be there. Your personal belongings all seem to be accounted for as well. Whatever they were searching for, they clearly didn’t find it.

Choi reappears in your room, sweating and breathing heavily. He shakes his head in disappointment. “Nobody in sight. Asked the manager if he saw anything suspicious, but he clearly didn’t know shit.”

He removes his suit jacket and throws it on the table before plopping down in the singular chair. He runs his hand through his sweaty hair as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Anything missing?”

You shake your head. “Not a single thing.”

“Shit,” Choi mumbles under his breath. “They were probably looking for my room.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Who-”

He waves his hand at you, interrupting. “Don’t worry about it.”

You are worried about it, but you know he’s not going to elaborate even if pressed. 

“Okay. Well, I want to shower and go to sleep, so kindly get the fuck out.” Your tone isn’t angry, you’re just exhausted. 

Choi gets up, but instead of leaving he deadbolts the door and returns to his seat.

“Absolutely not, what if they come back? I’ll keep watch.”

You give him the most exasperated look. “Are you shitting me? I don’t need you to keep guard, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not taking that chance,” he insists as he crosses his arms. 

You’re stubborn as hell, but in the short time you’ve known Seungcheol Choi he’s done nothing but give you a run for your money in that department.

You roll your eyes. You’re too tired to argue with him. “Fine, whatever. Just give me some privacy, alright?”

Choi salutes you as he turns his chair around. “Roger that.”

You shower and make your way back to your bed. Choi is still sitting in the chair, facing the locked door, his gun and holster sitting on the table right next to him. 

“Are you going to be able to sleep in that chair?” you ask. “Looks uncomfortable.”

Without turning, he replies. “I won’t be sleeping.”

“Seriously? You don’t need to stay up all night just to-”

“I’m not sleeping, Y/ln, it’s not up for debate.”

You stare at the back of his head. Sighing, you pull the covers up and go to turn off the lamp, but you pause.

“Choi?” you call out in a soft voice.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He turns his head ever so slightly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Goodnight, Y/ln.”

With a swift click you pull the chain on the lamp, and the room is flooded in darkness. As your eyes adjust, the moonlight seeps in past the closed blinds, and you can just make out Choi’s shadow as he keeps watch. Protecting you. 

Within seconds, you are fast asleep.

—

You open your eyes, the bright early morning sun rays peeking in through the window. You lay there, contemplating going back to sleep, when you remember the events of last night. You sit up abruptly to see your partner still in the chair, still facing the door, awake.

“Did you really stay up the whole night?” are the first words out of your mouth.

Choi turns around, his eyes tired but still alert. He nods.

“Did you know you snore in your sleep? Very quietly - it’s cute.”

“Oh, shut up” you grumble as you get out of bed.

Choi rises and grabs his jacket before heading toward the door. “Get ready, we have to be at the airport in an hour.” The door shuts behind him before you can respond with something snarky.

As you make your way to the parked car with your suitcase, you see your partner waiting for you - zoned out in the driver’s seat. 

You yank the driver’s side door open, startling him as he nearly jumps out of his seat. 

“Absolutely not,” you tell him sternly. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, I’m driving.”

“I’m fine, Y/n.”

You go to yell at him when you pause, realizing he just called you by your first name for the first time. He must be delirious, you think to yourself. 

“No, you’re not. And I’d like to make it back home in one piece, thank you.”

“Y/n-”

“Seungcheol Choi get your dumb ass out of the fucking car NOW.”

The expression that washes over his face looks like that of a scolded puppy. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to shout at him. 

“Okay, okay! Fine, you win.” He gets out of the car, walking around to the passenger side. As he opens the door he looks at you, trying to conceal the grin spreading across his face, but failing. 

“I like you like this. You should yell at me more often.” 

You stare at him, exhausted. “You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told,” he says with a wink as he disappears into the car. 

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time this week. After a few deep breaths, you reluctantly join your partner in the car. 

“And since when do you call me by my first name?” you inquire as you turn the ignition. The car engine comes to life with a rumble. 

Choi looks at you, his eyelids heavy. He gives you a sleepy smile as you back out of the parking space. 

“I told you you can call me Seungcheol,” he reminds you. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He gives no response, but shrugs, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. You stare at him for a brief moment. His black curls lay unruly against his forehead, brushing against his long eyelashes. A faint shadow graces his jawline - the result of not having shaved today. The top few buttons of his shirt remain undone; he didn’t even bother with a tie. Once again, you find yourself stunned by how handsome he is. You push that thought away as your attention returns to operating the vehicle. You shift gears and pull out of the lot. 

“Take a nap, dummy,” you tell him softly. 

—

Not five minutes have passed into your drive before the sound of gentle snoring greets your right ear. You glance over to see Choi positively zonked out in the passenger seat. A grin involuntarily appears on your face - he may be a headstrong pain in the ass, but even the toughest agents eventually fall victim to the cursed necessity of sleep. 

The “highway” out of town toward the airport is nothing more than a vacant country road. You drive for at least fifteen minutes without seeing a single other car. In the absence of Choi yammering on about some off-kilter conspiracy theory, or recounting a tale of a previous case that seems too fantastical to be true, your mind starts to wander. The events of the past week replay in your head. Unlike your partner you don’t quite believe you saw an alien spaceship, but whatever it was certainly is making you question a lot of things.

Your musings are cut short when Choi suddenly jolts awake, nearly making you jump. 

“Jesus, Choi, you scared me.”

He blinks dully a few times, the gears in his head creaking back to life as he tries to reorient himself. After a brief moment of mild panic he regains lucidity, slumping back into his seat with a groan. He yawns as he rubs his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he responds drowsily. 

“Did you know you snore in your sleep? It’s cute,” you jest, repeating his words from earlier back to him. After a moment, he realizes. 

“Fuck off,” he mumbles - but out of the corner of your eye you see him grin. 

You turn the radio on low volume, tuning into the rock station the dial was already set on. A few minutes pass without words, the crooning voice of Mick Jagger supplementing the conversation. Suddenly, Choi perks up, looking in the rear view mirror before turning around to peer out the back window. You glance in the mirror to see a dark car in the distance. 

“Finally, some sign of life,” you remark. “I was beginning to think we’d entered The Twilight Zone or something.”

Choi says nothing, but you notice the concern on his face. I wish he would stop being so paranoid, you think to yourself. He turns back around but keeps his eye on the mirror. Not even a minute later he snaps his head back to look out the rear window again. 

“Shit,” he exclaims, his voice disgruntled. 

You look in the mirror again to see the same car, rapidly approaching as it speeds toward you. Your eyes dart forward again, only to see another dark car up ahead - parked in the middle of the two-lane road, creating a blockade. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Choi, can you please enlighten me as to what the fuck is going on,” you ask nervously. 

“Fucking SHIT,” he shouts, not elaborating. 

“CHOI.”

“Stop the car,” he gripes, his head in his hands. 

You apply the brakes, as you couldn’t keep going even if you wanted to. The car ahead is blocking the whole road, and the trees on either side are preventing you from being able to swerve around it. 

The car following you parks, also blocking the road behind you. Two men in dark suits emerge from each car and casually surround the rental. One of them, from the car in front, walks over to the passenger side of your rental - he knocks on the glass twice. 

“Get out of the car.”

Choi unbuckles his seatbelt, taking his time, before reaching for the door handle. He pulls the latch and opens the door slowly. 

“Both of you.”

Your partner turns to you. “Do what they say,” he says quietly.

You follow the mystery man’s orders. It’s early, but the sun already stings your skin as you step out of the car.

You look at the men, trying to get some sense as to who they are, but you’ve never seen any of them before - you presume they would have nothing on themselves that would give any sort of identification anyway. The men’s guns remain in their holsters, but their hands rest on the frames. You don’t doubt that they would shoot you in a heartbeat if you made any funny moves.

“Open the trunk,” the same man orders to neither of you in particular. His tone is stern, but not overly aggressive.

You make eye contact with your partner. He gives you a slight nod.

You take the keys from the ignition and walk to the rear, inserting them in the lock and turning the key. The trunk lid gives a loud clunk as it pops open. The man signals to the two men that came up from behind you - they approach the trunk, pushing you out of the way as they open it. Choi’s hands clench into a fist, but he doesn’t move.

The men carelessly rummage through the trunk’s contents until they find what they were apparently looking for: Choi’s camera bag. The man opens it and pulls out the chunky Nikon, removing its film. 

“Hey, be careful with that!” Choi shouts angrily. 

Once the other man finishes fishes out the remaining film canisters from the bag, they put the camera back. They signal to the ringleader - he nods. The other men immediately return to their car.

The man in charge claps his hand onto Choi’s shoulder forcefully. 

“Thank you, Agents Choi and Y/ln - very much for your cooperation,” he says smugly. Choi shoves the man’s hand off his shoulder, teeth clenched. Without another word, the man heads back to his car. 

“You won’t get away with this forever,” Choi shouts after him. 

The man keeps walking. He doesn’t even turn his head as he replies mockingly.

“Keep up the good work, Agent Choi.”

You watch the cocky bastard enter the driver’s seat - both cars immediately take off. It was over as quickly as it had begun. 

You know Choi is infuriated, but more than anything he looks absolutely dejected. He leans onto the car, his head resting on his arm in defeat. 

“Who were those men?” you ask him quietly - but you suspect he doesn’t know either.

He takes a few moments before he lifts his head, resuming his posture. His saddened eyes lock with yours. 

“They’re the sons of bitches who make sure nobody knows the truth. Lying to the public, hiding information even from us - destroying all evidence that UFOs exist.”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I really thought I had it this time. Turns out, I was just really fucking stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” you tell him firmly. Softer, you add, “And I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you about… well, everything I guess.”

He laughs softly. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I’m the crazy alien guy in the basement, after all.”

He nudges you with his elbow, his voice friendly. “You know, you’re alright Agent Y/ln.”

You smile. “You’re alright too, Seungcheol.”

His face lights up at the sound of his first name. He smiles back at you warmly.

“Now, let’s actually get the fuck out of Iowa,” he says with vigor.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

—

20 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Have a seat, Agent Y/ln.”

You sit in the sturdy oak chair across from the Assistant Director’s desk. You are, once again, joined by the nameless man - smoking his cigarette silently in the corner of the room.

“I read your report on the Iowa case,” Bergman tells you as he flips through the open file on his desk.

You wait for him to continue.

“It is certainly… of lower quality than your usual work.”

You hide a grimace. “What exactly was the problem with it, sir? I was very thorough.”

He gives you a tired look. “Yes, of course - but the report itself is not what I take issue with. What I take issue with is its contents. I assigned you to the x-files as a voice of reason - to rein in Agent Choi, not perpetuate his outlandish theories.

“With all due respect, sir, I followed standard protocol. My report gives no indication that I agree with Agent Choi’s conviction that what we saw was indeed a UFO, and that the government is responsible for some larger conspiracy - I simply detailed everything that I witnessed in Spirit Lake objectively as I experienced it.”

Bergman sighs before closing the file. “Alright, Agent Y/ln. You do good work. But next time, maybe try to prevent your partner from chasing after little green men.” 

“They’re supposedly gray, actually. According to Agent Choi,” you inform him matter-of-factly. 

Bergman stares at you, incredulous. He opens his mouth to say something, but gives up. He waves you out of his office. 

“Dismissed.”

[to be continued…]

[ihavethedreamies]

Deserted | Hoshi

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi - Seventeen)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.1k

Pairing: Hoshi x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Sweet Girl, Baby Girl, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!), Added some piercings for ~flair~

Author's Note: I had my best friend read this the other day and she said it was a little much for her, but still enjoyable and she was sure others would love it.

I am planning on doing something like this for each member, so stay tuned!

-> Series Hub <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

-> S.Coup's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." You groaned as your sand-rover grumbled in protest, slowing down before it halted. The engine not only shut off, but it let out a giant puff of black smoke. The smell of burning rubber stung your nose and you groaned louder, grabbing your bag off the passenger seat. Throwing the door open, you're glad that happened as the sun was setting and not when it was high in the sky. The desert, however, could be very cold at night. A gust of wind blasted against the door, almost slamming it shut on your legs. With a yelp, you swung out your arm to catch the door and sighed when it didn't keep going. Unwrapping the thin scarf around your neck, you rewrapped it around your head and face to protect you from the blowing sand. Slipping your goggles on over to cover your eyes, you winced when the leather cracked further. Getting another strap would be a pain in the ass. Grabbing the door, you let it slam closed and slung your bag over your shoulder. Walking around the vehicle, you noticed that is had been hit harder than you anticipated. Since your rover was just that, you had no gun mounted on it, so when the acid-spitting space worm shot out of the ground, you could only flee. The back tire had finally been eaten away enough to go flat and there was also a hole that led to the gas tank. Only a bit of the fuel dripped out and you knew there was no chance of getting the now wrecked rover anywhere. Climbing up on the other back wheel, you got the hatch in the back open so you could grab your bigger pack. Grunting, you swung it onto your back and cinched the straps tight. Turning back to the last outpost you had been at was a no go. There was a huge alien monster in the way. You weren’t sure where the next outpost was, so you pulled out your old, beaten up holo-tracker. When you turned it on, the holographic screen glitched, so you slammed the body of the device against your thigh a few times and then it evened out. Clicking the buttons, one of which kept getting stuck, you saw that the next outpost was miles away. Walking that far would be an absolute drag but at least it was going to be night.

"Freaking desert planets…" You grumbled as if you had ever lived on a different one. You grew up on Sierra-Victor-Tango, but after taking a trip to several other human worlds, you learned that your home was…well, a shithole. Everything was old and falling apart. In the cities, crime was rampant, and the smaller outposts and towns were poor. When you told your mother you were going out to scavenge through the desert, she was unsure. Not because she was worried for your safety, but she had no idea what you hoped to find. It was a sandy wasteland inhabited by weird space bugs and lizards. You had never known earth like your grandparents so when you learned Terra animals and bugs looked so different, you understood why your grandma was so skeeved out.

Looking back at the wrecked rover, you wondered if it could give you some credits for scrap, but the work to get all the way out to it was not worth it. Hiking up your pack again, you set off, holding the scarf to your mouth as a gust of wind blasted you. A little blinking cursor flashed on your holo-tracker indicating where you were as you walked toward the setting sun. Behind you and to the right, the two different moons rose higher and got clearer. Twinkling stars began to appear and the cold was starting to set in. In the distance, you saw a giant rock outcropping and you headed for it. It was off the packed-in road, so you couldn't go very fast in the shifting sand.  When you reached the rock, you walked around to the other side, looking for a crack or something you could wedge into for shelter. What you were not expecting was some kind of shelter erected against the stone. It looked semi-permanent and constructed around some kind of indent in the giant rock.

Creeping closer, you saw someone sitting at a fire pit, their back to you. What startled you the most though, was a giant feline-like shape lying next to the fire as well. You had never seen one that big and it looked like a tiger from the books your grandmother brought from earth. Instead of orange with black stripes, it was black with white stripes and had long top fangs. The wind shifted; it was coming straight behind you instead of at you. The beast lifted its head, beginning to growl. At this, the person turned around and you saw it was a man. He had a scar across the bridge of his nose and his ears were heavily pierced. Another piercing accented his right brow, and he had a long narrow tattoo behind his ear and down his neck. You immediately shot your arms up in surrender and he motioned his tiger to lay down.

"Who are you?" He called and you dared not step closer.

"Uh…(Y/N), of Morgran Town." You had never seen someone like him before. He was incredibly attractive, and his poncho-like cloak hit right at his ribs, and he had nothing on under it. His muscles were toned, and his skin was smooth other than a scar near his hip. Tight leather pants clung to thick thighs and his big boots highlighted his long legs. Even his arms were well defined, a belt holding some sort of flask wrapped around his right bicep. His eyes were bright yellow, and you didn't know that happened naturally, his hair was white with black tips, reminiscent of his tiger.

"Morgran Town? You’re a long way from home." He replied, motioning with his hand for you to come closer. Finally, out of the shadow of the rock, he could see you in the double moonlight. You felt…tiny. He wasn't super big, not like some you've met, but he wasn't short either.

"Well, I'm a traveler, my rover broke down a few miles back." You finally let your arms down and instead moved to grip the straps of your pack.

"Headed to Korvo?"

"Yes."

"Don't."

"What? Why?"

"Two weeks ago, they got hit by slavers, it’s a ghost town." The man motioned you closer and toward a stump he had carved into a seat. Slowly, you walked the long way around, avoiding the cold gaze of the animal. You removed your pack, letting it thumb next to your seat, but you didn't take off your other bag; just in case you had to flee. Now that you were closer, you could tell that some kind of meat was being roasted on the fire.

"It won't taste too good because I can't really cook, but it will be cooked." He flashed a smile, and it took you off guard. He was…adorable.

"You'll share?" You looked at the roast, your mouth watering. You hadn't had fresh meat in months, only dried stuff. You wondered if he made the kill or his pet.

"Don't worry about Horanghae, he won't bite unless I let him." He waved at the animal, and you nodded, still feeling nervous in its gaze.

"I'm Hoshi." He held out his hand to shake and you shyly returned the gesture, and he sat back down at a long bench.

"You're a traveler? What do you do that for?"

"Oh, uh, I'm mostly looking for old wrecks of like shuttles and ships and stuff." You shrugged. It took forever to find things like that, but you gained a knack for it, and it got you a crap ton of money sometimes. While not official, you basically worked for the International Assembly as a freelancer, so you did jobs at your leisure.

"That must take a long time." He smiled and you shrugged.

"Sometimes. What about you?"

"I'm a Ranger." He held up a medallion hanging around his neck that had an upside-down triangle-like logo on it. You had heard of them before, there weren’t too many of them, it was hard to get accepted. They traveled the desert and worked as bounty hunters. That's all people really knew about them.

"So, if Korvo is a bust, where should I head next?"

"Hm. There's nowhere close really, not that you can get to easily by foot…I can't leave here for a few days, so you can stay with me till then. I'll give you a lift after." He jutted his thumb over to a hover bike that was resting next to his abode.

"Oh! Thank you. That's very generous." You let out a sigh of relief, you had begun to wonder what you were going to do. You were really bad at hunting and had only so much water in your canteen. He told you about his situation as you waited for the meat to be done. He had a well that was in the back of his tent, which was half in the rock. He had blown a giant cave into it with a grenade and set up his home. Horanghae would hunt for him, and he had a communication relay set up as well to talk with the rest of the Rangers.

"I only have one place to sleep though…" He finished off his explanation and you waved him off.

"I can sleep on the ground, not the first time I've had to."

"No way. What kind of person would I be if I let my guest sleep on the ground?" He shook his head. Thanking him, he declared the food done and hacked of a chunk for you. Hoshi speared the meat on a wooden skewer and handed it over. Eagerly eating the food, he watched in amusement at your ravenous behavior and then ate himself.

"Thanks. I can't begin to thank you; I would've been a goner." You shuddered at the thought. If you had arrived at Korvo and found it wasted, you might have had a breakdown.

"Don't worry about it!" He took the rest of the meat off the spit and gave it to the tiger. He led you inside his hut, even carrying your big pack in for you. It was nice and cozy inside, beautiful colored Afghans and rugs were laid out everywhere. The front room was like a living room and had a pile of pillows to sit at and even had a fairly nice holo-screen set up. There was a curtain against the left wall that he told you led to the bathroom. The next room was the bedroom essentially and he told you to go in and make yourself comfortable, he would sleep in the front room. Thanking him again you scurried into the back. That's where he had his communication equipment set up, and there was an actual bed in there! Under all the blankets and pelts, there was not just a sack of straw or even a crate; it was an actual mattress. You hadn't slept on one in almost a year. Taking your boots off, you jumped on and groaned at the comfort. Pulling the softest Afghan over you, you drifted off quickly and slept better than you had in a while.

A soft beeping stirred you from your sleep. Glancing at your watch, you saw it was almost sunrise and so you sat up, stretching with a groan. The beeping was coming from the monitor he had set up. Not wanting to invade his privacy, you got up to go into the other room and inform him. He was still asleep, having spread out across the floor and pillows. His tiger must have been outside. It would have been cute to see him sleep like that if it wasn’t for the fact his torso was now completely uncovered and only his lower half was covered by the blanket. Not just that, but his tight pants were thrown over a chair in the corner, and the blanket was tented in a very obvious way. The realization made you squeak in embarrassment, and you fled back into the other room. While you had not been with too many guys before, you knew for sure what he was hiding under there. The soft beeping continued from the monitor, and you wondered what you should do. If he had to go in there to check on it, he might not realize he had a…problem. Living alone probably allowed him some freedom, but you were here, and you weren't sure he would think of that.

Dashing from the back room into the bathroom, you realized how bad you had to go. Once that was done, you realized in shock that the plumbing was…actually plumping. Kind of. It was one of those high-tech situations that vaporized the waste into nothingness. The sink actually gave you water and it seemed so would the shower. As you were still in there, staring at your face in the mirror, you kept thinking of how to wake him. All of a sudden, the beeping got loud enough for you to hear in the other room and when you peaked your head out, you saw he was stirring. That solved that problem. Peering through the curtain, you watched him get up and your jaw dropped as the blanket fell. Luckily, he was at least wearing undergarments, but they were tight and hid very little. He was very nicely defined, his muscles weren't huge, but he still looked extremely good. His hair was messy, and you were enraptured watching him stretch. He trudged into the back room, scratching his chest and seemingly ignoring his morning problem. You heard a ding and he spoke to whoever was on the other line. His voice was rough from sleeping and you knew you were in danger. How is it that you managed to find such a gorgeous man out in the middle of the desert? Another voice responded to him, but you couldn't pick out any specific words and soon their conversation was over, and you jumped back into the bathroom and away from the curtain.

"(Y/N)? You in there?" He was standing right on the other side, and you swallowed before answering in the positive.

"I, uh, need in there, but…" You knew why he was hesitating and for some reason, some stupid little voice in the back of your conscience screamed loud enough for it to come out of your mouth.

"I can help you with that." You blurted and gaped at yourself in the mirror. He didn't say anything, and you kicked yourself. Why, why did you say that? Before you could say anything else, the curtain pulled back and you saw him behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His look was much different than the night before. His yellow eyes that shined with laughter had turned sharp. It made you shudder as you made eye contact with him indirectly through the mirror.

"I-I mean, I don't know how to thank you for helping me…So, I uh, can help with whatever." You were glad the mirror didn't go too low, otherwise you would definitely be staring. You could see him slowly look you up and down and you froze under his gaze. It was like what the tiger did to you last night, but ten times worse. You felt like a deer about to be eaten, and it turned you on to no end. Wandering around the desert for a living doesn't exactly afford many opportunities for romantic or sexual escapades. You figured the case was probably pretty true for him as well, if not more. Realizing in the night you had shed your shirt; you were just standing in the wrap-around you used as a bra and your leggings. Because of the heat of the desert and the tightness of said leggings, you usually went commando, and you wondered if you were wet enough for it to soak through the fabric.

As he stepped into the small space, he let the curtain fall behind him but didn't step completely through the entryway.

"Are you sure?" He stared you in the eye, once again through the mirror, you did not yet have the courage to turn around. While you wanted to say you were joking, that it was just an impulse to tease, you couldn't. Seeing him to begin with was enough, let alone in his current state.

"Are you sure?" You shot back. You thought yourself rather plain with no distinctive features. Your freckled skin from years of sun exposure was highlighted strangely by the tan line that formed around your goggles. You were covered in dirt too because of wandering out in the blowing sand. His poor bed was probably covered in sand too. Not easy to find somewhere with running water, let alone hot water, your hair was pulled back into a braid but was not exactly clean. You were glad body odor had been genetically eradicated decades ago. Plus, compared to him, you were painfully average.

When he didn't verbally respond, you grew even more nervous, but he stepped in further till he was standing a few steps behind you. He peered at the mirror from behind, and he was nearly a head taller than you. His stare was even more intense now and you shivered. Taking a deep breath, you finally worked up the courage to turn around, and he was immediately on you. His kiss was searing, and you immediately groaned. Nothing about it was gentle, it did truly feel like he was trying to eat you. He bit your bottom lip and you moaned, his tongue quickly flicking against your own. Something cold and round hit your teeth and you realized his tongue was pierced. Oh lord. Hoshi's hand had come to rest around your throat, under your jaw, but was in no way harsh or tight. This way, he could angle your head just right. Your neck protested some and so you propped up on your tip toes, tipping your head and allowing the kiss to deepen further. His second arm wrapped around you, almost encircling you while his hand gripped your ass. The hand on your jaw moved to the back of your head and you wrapped your smaller hands over his biceps. Pulling back for air, his fingers buried further in your hair and yanked your head back so he could kiss down the column of your throat. You moaned as you felt his teeth buried slightly into the flesh, then sucked hard, definitely leaving a mark. As he pressed you so close to him, you could feel his covered hard-on against your bare stomach. Your head swam as he sucked on your earlobe and his hand left your head to wrap around your back.

"Jump." He ordered and you followed, his mouth landing on yours again as he left the bathroom. The man easily carried you and brought you to the bedroom, "Put me down a sec." You told him. Hoshi raised his eyebrow in question but did so. You immediately sank to your knees, and he groaned before you even touched him.

"You sure?" He asked.

"If I go to do something, I'm sure." You told him, implying for him to stop asking. He nodded and you nervously but quickly reached for the waistband of his only item of clothing. Exhaling, you removed the garment and gaped as he stepped out of it. Swallowing a build-up of saliva, you no longer had to imagine. What shocked you the most however was the two metal spheres adorning the head of his cock. A full reverse prince albert. That was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

"Good?"

"Yes." You cleared your throat, wiggling your jaw a bit then reached for him, laving your tongue around the head, the metal imbedded there cold where his flesh was hot. He swore as you began to descend. Your jaw protested some, but in the best possible way. You saw his eyes widen in shock then narrow as he moaned, your nose reaching his pelvis. Swallowing around him, the piercing was an odd sensation, you pulled back as little as possible so you could still breathe. Once you found the proper depth, you pulled off him and gave him a look, spreading your legs more and placing your hands on the floor.

"(Y/N)?" He asked and you simply opened your mouth wide, tongue out.

"Fuck." He practically growled and he adjusted your jaw by the chin and then he slid in. Keeping your teeth covered was a little difficult with his girth, but you managed. You could focus on that while he did all the movement. He had noticed what you were doing and made sure not to go too deep but every so often so you could still breathe. Your gag reflex was pretty much gone at that point for several different reasons, but with his size (and the piercing) you let out a small gag every once and a while. Hoshi's hands dug into your hair as he used your mouth, very quiet but high-pitched moans flowing out. Feeling him twitch, you knew he was close, and he almost pulled out. While part of him wanted to see your face covered, he much preferred it when you grabbed the back of his thighs and buried him completely in your throat.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, throwing his head back as he came. You moaned at the feeling yourself and the vibration rolled his eyes back. When he was done, you swallowed to make sure everything went down and he pulled out fully, still half-hard. Licking your lips sensually, he huffed and reached down to lift you up under your arms. You yelped at the east to which he does this, and he literally tossed you onto the bed. He grabbed the fastener of your breast band; as he roughly pulled it open and off, the motion flipped you over onto your stomach. He was manhandling you with such ease. Hoshi moved your braid out of the way and started to lay seething kisses along your spine and over your shoulders. His hand came under you and ran down your stomach till the tips of his fingers reached the waistband of your leggings. He pulled your waist up, his now fully hard cock wedged between the cleft of your ass. You were definitely leaking through the fabric. Placing a final kiss on your shoulder, his hand hooked into your bottoms, and he tugged hard. You flipped over once again and as Hoshi dragged the last of your clothes off, he also tugged you to the foot of the bed. Before you could get your bearings, his hands gripped your thighs, tight, and pressed your legs open. You knew you would have bruises there in the morning and his hot breath on your core made your hips seize.

"W-wait-!" You gasped as his tongue licked a hot stripe up to your clit. You had never had this done before, just never really cared to. It was something new for sure and it was almost too much. The slight cold of the ball piercing his tongue made you flinch. You could feel hip lips curl into a smirk against you at this and caught him looking up at you. The sight was overwhelming, and he sucked hard on your clit, you head slamming back into the bed.

"You taste amazing." He groaned against your skin. His hands moved from your thighs, and he wrapped his arms around your legs and buried in deeper. The hold he had on you prevented almost all movement and your upper body squirmed to compensate. Hoshi's tongue seemed like it shouldn't be as long as it was, nor as strong. The piercing was brushing right against your entrance and hit your clit over and over. He was like a man starved, dehydrated, and he was sucking your soul out.

"Ah!" You almost screamed when he came back to your clit and your orgasm hit you, hard. It was stronger than you had ever experienced and lasted much longer. He groaned against you, his continued tongue movements dragging it out. When it finally calmed down, he pulled away as the overstimulation began to sting. The man let you catch your breath and when you were able to open your eyes to look at him and he was drenched.

"Oh my god!" You gasped and he just laughed, wiping his mouth and sucking everything else off his hand and fingers.

"You ever squirted before?" He asked and you shook your head, mortified.

"It’s okay, pretty girl, that was sexy." His smile was too cute for what he just did to you.

"You need a minute?" He asked and you rested back again with a nod. Delicately, instead of what he was doing before, he picked you up and shifted you higher up the bed. His lips came back to yours, gentle at first and growing heated again. There was something about his kisses, they alone made your head swim. Was it him or his skill? The tongue piercing? Who knows? As he felt your body become less tense, his arms wrapped around you and tilted your hips up so he could grind against you. You were still somewhat sensitive so even just the slight friction was so good. Already knowing this from when he was straining your jaw, you knew that his cock was going to stretch you so good. The sting would be so worth it. It had been a long time since anyone filled you up and no one had ever as much as you knew Hoshi was going to.

"You ready, princess?" He finally let your tongue go and you could not form a thought to make words, so you nodded. He smirked and the head poked at your entrance. As he eased in, the sting was more intense than you thought it would be, but so, so good. The stretch wasn't the only thing that took your breath away. That gosh darn piercing perfectly hit your clit and rubbing against your walls as eased in. At least he was self-aware of his size because he went slow, but knew he wasn't hurting you. Your hard exhales were tinged with a moan, nearly imperceptible. He was big, you knew part of it was because you were quite small, but his cock was impressive on its own.

"So tight." He grunted, grinding into you and your clit throbbed.

"J-just give me a sec." You gripped his shoulders, breathing through the delicious stretch. It felt incredible despite the slight pain. After you sat for a bit, he shifted some and then moved slowly, hiking your leg up over his elbow and he went even deeper.

"Fuck!" You moaned, your head tossed back, and you almost came again right then.

"You okay?" He chuckled some, he could tell by how you clenched that it felt good, not that it hurt. That fucking piercing brushed right against your sweet spot. Hoshi had already ruined you for any other man, and he hadn't even moved.

"Ready?" he asked, massaging your hip. You nodded and the hand on your hip tightened its grip, and his arm hiked your leg up higher. He barely pulled out, maybe an inch, then his hips snapped, and you came.

"Ohgodohgodohgod." He grunted as your walls clenched him tight and he was growing smug at the pleasure he was wreaking on you. In truth though, he was trying really hard not to cum already himself. He knew he would have some time before he could again given he had already came, but it had been a while. However, every other time he had waited this long, he could go for many, many rounds. If he could, he would keep you in his bed and in his hold for the rest of the day. He wanted to make it so you couldn't walk by the time he could bring you to the outpost. Honestly, he wanted to make it, so you never wanted to leave. When your orgasm died down, he waited a bit longer, you laid limp in his arms.

"You're gonna have to do all the work now." You told him with a tired giggle, like he wasn't already doing that. He smirked, notched your other leg up over his arm, then proceeded to fold your legs up to your chest. He pressed your thighs down with his hands, forming more bruises and you prepared yourself. His next thrust was almost hard enough (it seemed) to dislodge a kidney. It knocked the wind out of you and your sensitive skin burned. You were in for a ride. His thrusts were not even as hard as they could be, you knew. Hoshi only pulled his cock halfway out before he was buried as deep as he could go. After every thrust, he would grind down into your clit, the metal ball inside rubbing your g-spot. Your moans were getting harder to contain, you almost wanted to scream. Drool pooled out of the sides of your mouth; your entire body was on fire.

"Don't hold back, baby girl, let me hear you." He grunted out, his thrusts slowing but no less deep. Finally getting permission to be loud, you whined, and he unfolded you and led you to wrap your legs around his waist. Up on his knees, he positioned you to rest your lower back on his thighs and he rolled his hips to snap his cock into you over and over. The new position let that stupid piece of metal scrape perfectly against your walls, the head of his dick probably bruising your cervix. You were ruined, no thoughts in your head. You were letting out slurring moans of his name and pleas for…you weren't even sure at this point. He had fucked you stupid.

"(Y/N), pretty girl, where can I cum?" His thrusts had gotten more erratic, he wasn't able to hold back anymore.

"I-inside." You moaned, able to form a complete thought.

"Yeah?"

"Please." You keened and this sent him over the edge. Getting as deep as he could, he swallowed your moan, sliding his tongue back in your mouth, painting your insides white. The hot sensation gave you another orgasm, not nearly as strong though, and it was a relief. As the spurts of cum stopped, he pulled away from your mouth and he  chuckled at the fucked-out look you had.

"I'll let you rest, sweet, but then I'm going to fill you up again."

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

[slytherinshua]

SEVENTEEN ATLA HEADCANONS

genre. headcanons. avatar the last airbender au. warnings. none. featuring. ot13 seventeen. wc. 1.6k. (around 100 words each) request. no. a/n. obviously i've been on a svt atla kick since burnt promises, second chances. i'd be open to writing fics for any of these small headcanons if anyone is particularly interested :)

SEUNGCHEOL

Ugh, Cheol is really hard. I kinda see him as any nation and also none at the same time. For the lack of other Water Tribe on the list, I’ll give him Water Tribe, but I don’t even think he’s a bender. He’d be a passionate hunter of the Southern Water Tribe, and a very good one, but not a bender. He’d always be eager to help out and fit his role as a true leader. He’s looked up to because he protects his people without fail. He’s good at strategics and known for his bravery. I see him fitting a role like Sokka’s father, but I don’t see him as anything glamorous like Water Tribe Royalty. He’s down to Earth and humble and honest. He leads and the people follow.

JEONGHAN

Jeonghan is an airbender. He’s witty and intelligent, and a great asset to his nation. He’d be in an Air temple close to the Earth Kingdom, and he often helps out with strategics if they ever need it. Definitely a kind and angel baby, but if there’s anyone who needs dealing with, he will personally take the task up. He’s world renowned and has allies and friends in every single nation. When he’s not busy, he’ll spend his time travelling around and immersing himself in the different cultures of the nations. He’s beaten Water Tribe hunters at their own hunt, evaded earthbender attacks in the ring because of how light he is on his feet. And his agility and wit proves to be useful whenever he goes head to head with a firebender. He can often predict their next moves and avoid attacks before they’re even fired at him.

JOSHUA

Joshua is Water Tribe!! Definitely a Water Tribe prince, or even a poor boy from the Northern Water Tribe whose parents couldn’t afford water bending lessons for him, so he would sneak around and watch lessons without getting caught. He’s mostly self taught, so he’s not exactly the best, but he can still hold his own. If he’s a Water Tribe prince, then he probably got bored with water bending very quickly as a child and started figuring out ways to skip his lessons lol. He knows clever ways to bribe or fool his masters into letting him slack off, but he also has to build enough skill to show at least a little improvement. He’s probably more interested in carving proposal necklaces to give to his future girlfriend than improving his bending skills.

JUNHUI

Jun is Fire Nation, and he’s extremely talented at Fire Bending. He probably runs a tea shop with his family and takes lessons on the side; just a regular middle class kid. He’s not aiming for a military position or anything high up, but he uses his skills to help him in daily life. He might have friends from places higher up in the city, and because of that, he got to take a visit to Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Definitely turns some heads— practically the whole school is crushing on him by the end of the 2 hour visit, and he enjoys the attention that he wouldn’t usually get at home. It’s safe to say that he’s invited back given the significant improvement in attendance and performance after his initial visit. 

SOONYOUNG

Another airbender, only because he’s so agile. Like the spider choreo really makes me see him as someone who just likes to swing around upside down for fun. He’ll play pranks on the older monks, or just anyone he can get his hands on. He’s a lot like Aang in that way. He definitely creates his own airbending moves, because he is a choreographer!!! Somehow takes a trip to the Earth Kingdom because it was his life goal to see a tigerdillo in real life. Once he meets one, he somehow adopts it, and settles down in the Earth Kingdom from there on! He’s perfectly happy, and can he even pose as an earthbender if he’s smart about it.

WONWOO

Anyone could probably guess that I see Wonwoo as Fire Nation. I wrote an entire 14.5k fic about it which is expecting a part 2, but I just think he fits it so much? Especially in a role like the Fire Lord or some notable higher up who is skilled at firebending and definitely owns a dragon (if we’re talking a time period before/during the dragon hunts). He’d be the type to just be a natural at it and reach a high mastery at an early age. He’s such a skilled fighter, and definitely knows how to control his flame. He prefers to study directly from dragons instead of old masters, whose teachings feel regurgitated and watered down, which sounds pretentious, but it’s one of the reasons why he got so good.

JIHOON

I see Jihoon as an Earth bender. He’s short and stout but HE'S SO BUFF. He definitely has the density in him to move some rocks, he’s practically built like The Boulder but without the height????? I definitely see him as part of the royal guard, but definitely not an Earth King. He might teach Earth Bending or get posted out on the coast near the Fire Nation or something— but he definitely has a military position. Somewhere where he can use his earthbending to its full potential. Not the most talkative, but definitely the most efficient, so he climbs the ranks like nobody's business and everyone knows to respect every word that comes out of his mouth. If you say even a word about his height, he’ll throw a rock at your head before you can finish the sentence.

SEOKMIN

It was hard to pick between Water Tribe and Fire Nation for Seokmin, but I think he’s ultimately Fire Nation. I see him as an actor for plays, and he definitely uses his firebending to win over the audience. It got to the point that even though he’s from a small town in the Fire Nation, he became a household name and got increasingly popular until he eventually found himself acting in front of the Fire Lord. Once he got rich enough from it, he got a spot in the most infamous acting troupe in the Fire Nation. His favourite role to play is, of course, the Dragon Emperor in Love Amongst the Dragons.

MINGYU

Just a bulky earthbender I don’t know what to say. He probably got recruited to some military position because he’s fit and can hold his own in a fight, but boy’s just really a sweetheart. He doesn’t enjoy smashing people with rocks, so he tries to get out of the military as soon as possible. He instead works as a carpenter of sorts? Builds elaborate structures with his earthbending, and has a surprisingly artistic touch to his creations. Popular with the older ladies because he is a gentleman.

MINGHAO

I see him as an airbender, but I cannot imagine him with a bald head LIKE HELP. But let's say he is, and for aesthetic purposes, keep the long haired Minghao. He practically floats and flies through the air with his airbendings. He’s probably more of a lemur guy than a sky bison guy. I can imagine him having 1 or 2 lemurs who he spends most of his time with. Obviously very light on his feet and into meditation. He’s one of those star students in the class that the teacher picks as an example for the other students to watch and learn from.

SEUNGKWAN

A waterbender, and he’s good because he focused and studied the traditions of it. He knows the importance of the basics, and when he’s teaching, he can get mad pretty quick if he catches a novice waterbender doing a technique lazily. He teaches them the hard way, making the floor an ice rink or slapping in the face with a water tentacle if they make a silly mistake. But he’s a respected master. (Not to say that he’s old, but he holds the respect of an old master). Also a great healer for the Water Tribe. He thinks it’s important for the men to not just learn how to fight with spears and slices of water, but also to heal the tribe, and he offers his lessons to the women of the tribe as well.

VERNON

Another Fire Nation boy. He’s so skilled he can redirect lightning and all that jazz. He’s a worldwide guy too, so he’s definitely familiar with the other nations and their bending to a certain extent. (Like Iroh, studying the Water Tribe helped him with creating new techniques within firebending). He has a dragon because he’s hot like that, and would hold master firebending classes lol. Definitely has connections to the Royal Family and I could even see him serving as a personal guard or something of that sort. His skills aren’t to be wasted, so he can snag a high paying position practically anywhere he wants.  

CHAN

Earth Kingdom kid from a poor family™, I mean it’s just so clear in my mind. I imagine his mom runs a corner store, and he likes to use his very limited earth bending skills to make the shop look prettier. If the wooden tables break down over time, he’ll earth bend a makeshift counter to display the trinkets for sale. He’s quite charming even though he doesn’t have much to say about himself. In the lower class of the Earth Kingdom, practically everyone knows him because he likes to go around and make new friends when he’s bored. He’ll help out the elderly if they need it, and flash a toothy grin to anyone he comes across.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @haecien,, @amara-mars

[pasteidolons]

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦

pairing: lee jihoon x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 33.5k

taglist: @hipsdofangirl

𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 17𝔱𝔥, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The cold, gray sky of winter greets you with its hollow breath as you swing the door to your room open, any heat that has accumulated overnight swiftly dissipating as swaths of blustery air invade the space. From the looks of it, thick, gray clouds had begun to accumulate over the city outside the walls of the Hwarang’s compound, forecasting at least a light blanket of snow in the coming hours. You’d have to make sure that the fires from the kitchen aren’t low so that the ondol keeps warm under the building’s floors. 

Before you move to exit the room, you reach to grab a jacket from your handful of things, sighing as you catch sight of a piece of paper hidden under your coat. It’s the letter that had brought you here in the first place. Nearly two weeks have passed since your arrival at the Hwarang’s headquarters, the same frigidity that had met you on your first meeting was still ingrained into them, the same distrust, no doubt, but it isn’t as if you can leave. 

 A frown as you look down at your clothes after shrugging the jacket onto your shoulders. Instead of your father’s clothes that you’d arrived in, they’d given you robes of their own. Not the blues of their commanders or warriors, but the deep green of their lesser ranks; of the pageboys, cooks, and less desirable positions within their numbers. They were and are foreign to you, you’d much rather wear the clothes that feel more familiar, even if they are men’s. But you aren’t meant to raise suspicion, just keep your head low until they find out more information of your father’s whereabouts. A female hiding out in the Hwarang’s headquarters would raise suspicion, start rumors, and with how much they hold themselves to a gold standard, it would be irreparable to their reputation. 

Jihoon, the Hwarang’s commander, had given you strict instructions to keep up the facade as a male. Saying that, while it would be harmful to their reputation if the word got out, it would also be a beacon for those looking for your father, or perhaps even you. Only those that you’d met on the first day, as well as a handful of others within their leadership, know of your true identity.

As you move your hands away from the hem of your jacket, your fingers brush against the blade that Jihoon had given back to you the day you’d arrived. It’d been somewhat ceremonial in your household, not a thing of use as there was no need for it. Your father had claimed it to be an heirloom kept in the family since the birth of Silla as a kingdom. You aren’t sure of the validity of that statement though, as the metal isn’t tinged with rust, it looks newly forged at times.

Regardless of the validity of the blade, your father made you take several lessons with your town’s local head guard, who’d only taught a girl because her father was a well-known physician. Also, because your father could treat any injury you sustained while practicing, which wasn’t ever needed as any scrapes or scratches you obtained healed fairly quickly. When you were little you didn’t think much of it. Yet as you grew older you realized that you healed faster than most. Your father said it must’ve been a gift from the Heavens but urged you not to tell anyone about it. And you hadn’t, fearing that those around you would treat you like a witch or a monster if they were to find out.

Swordplay was never something you took much interest in, seeing that you’d probably never put the techniques you’d learned to use. Besides, you aren’t a bloodthirsty fiend looking for a chance to use it anyway, you’d rather help people than hurt them. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts for a brief moment as a wang-do, one of the common Hwarang soldiers, passes by your room. They lock eyes with you for a moment, a scowl sneering onto their lips before they break their gaze and continue to stride past. Private rooms were only given to personnel of a higher rank within the Hwarang, and seeing how you are a newcomer, you can somewhat understand the resentment some of them have with your staying not in the typical quarters of those of your rank. 

With more guilt than not as you accept the hospitality of the Hwarang, you try to help out as much as you can, despite the wishes of the commander. To the average wang-do, it probably seems as if you’re receiving special treatment from the captains. Despite the actuality of them keeping watch over you to make sure you wouldn’t spew their secrets; it would be confusing, aggravating even, from an outsider’s perspective. But, even if you were allowed free reign of the headquarters, it’s not as if you could speak to any of them, most were nobles from families of high wealth. And your father isn’t poor by any means, but the wealth disparity between the nobles of the capital and nobles of the countryside is nothing to scoff at. 

So, you remain alone, for the time being, finding that the best way to not draw attention to yourself is to become practically invisible. Maybe if Jihoon allowed you to go out and search for your father you would find yourself more useful, but he’d just left for Hanseong a few days prior. Seeing as the man in charge of your stay here isn’t available, maybe your best bet would be to stay in your room until something of note happened, despite how aggravatingly boring it is. 

The room is practically empty, only a bed, a small chest of drawers and a writing desk to keep you company. It reminds you of when your father would leave for his patient visits, disappearing for days at a time and leaving you alone at home. Although it isn’t the same, those visits had the promise of return. Waiting for someone you knew would come back and waiting for the unknown are vastly different things.

As your reflections manifest into exasperated sighs, you barely notice the sound of approaching footsteps heading towards your room. 

“There you are!” Youngmin, the head of the Hwarang, exclaims once he catches sight of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you; I didn’t think you’d be in here!” He beams at you for a moment before stepping into the room with a tray in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” you apologize as he sets down the tray onto the writing desk nestled into the corner of the room. 

“Ah… wait… This is your room?” He questions as he straightens up, looking around at the interior for a moment. 

“It is,” you nod, wondering what he’s thinking about. 

“Then I just barged into a woman’s room without even announcing myself!” He looks flustered, his cheeks turning a tinge pink as he realizes his mistake and takes a few steps out of the room.

“It’s alright,” you try to assure him, “After all, it’s not like there’s anything here that I wouldn’t want you to see.”

“Hmm,” he sighs, trying to compose himself, “I thought since we’d assigned you to be Jihoon’s page your room would be next to his…” It seems as if Jihoon had neglected to inform Youngmin that you hadn’t actually been made a page. That isn’t in the least bit surprising with how coldly the commander had been treating you. 

“I’m not fully equipped to entertain guests, but you’re welcome to come in if you’d like,” you offer, motioning for him to come back inside the room.

“You don’t need to worry,” he waves his hand as if to brush off the thought, “And, if I may, I’ll take you up on your offer.” Youngmin then steps back into the room, and as if he notices your hesitant demeanor, he speaks up once more, “And please don’t feel nervous around me, as long as you’re here you’re a guest of the Hwarang.”

You offer him a small smile before looking down to the tray he’d carried in. A look of shock comes over your face as you realize what he’d brought, “This is—!”

Youngmin chuckles lightly, “I take it you’re a fan of sweets then? Jihoon’s adoptive mother likes to send them to us every once in a while, and hardly anyone touches them.” Several assorted hangwa lay on the dish, their colors vibrant against the gray gloom of the light shining in from outside, next to a steaming cup of tea. “Go ahead and have some, if you’d like.” 

“Thank you very much,” you nod and make your way over to gingerly pick up one of the confections. You look at the pink treat for a moment before taking a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness of it before turning back to Youngmin, “It’s delicious.” Snacks like this were only limited to holidays or festivals back home, it’s shocking to hear that Jihoon’s mother had sent such a thing on a whim. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he smiles. Something about Youngmin’s presence holds an aura of warmth, that makes you feel more relaxed than you had been with any other member of the Hwarang since your arrival. “Ah, I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to go outside?”

A nod, “That’s right. But if that’s what’s needed for me to stay here, I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble by going out.”

He looks almost sympathetic as he parts his lips once more, “I see… I’m glad you understand. I know that Jihoon can seem a little intimidating at first but he’s a truly caring man.”

To see the man who’d kept you in relative solitude for a few weeks as a caring person didn’t seem fully right… But Youngmin knows him much better than you do.

“He may be a little strict with you, but only because he’s trying to do what’s in your best interest.” Youngmin sighs, a telling sign that maybe he hadn’t agreed with everything Jihoon had done before. “I’ll speak to him once he gets back, I know this must be hellish for you, but I can only ask you to hang in for a bit longer.”

“Alright,” you nod, “Thank you.” Even if Youngmin’s visit hadn’t done much to change your living arrangement, it had lightened your mood ever so slightly. 

After Youngmin had departed and you’d been left to sulk in your room for a while, you notice that the sun was slowly sinking into the sky. The clouds of earlier in the day had parted to let the golden light shine onto the headquarters as the sun made its descent into the horizon. It feels as if time itself has stopped, the sun hanging in the same place for an unimaginably long time.

All this time in solitude is doing a number on both your mental and emotional state. Any hope of getting out of your isolation seems to slip with each passing moment you spend alone. You had come to the capital to find your father, not get swept up into a world where your life lay on the line should you slip up and say something you shouldn’t.

Even if they were showing you more hospitality than you could’ve asked for, you know that you can’t trust the Hwarang completely. 

“They can’t all be that bad… right?” you mutter to yourself as you sit at the small drawing table, flipping through the letters you’d brought with you.

“Has anyone ever called you ‘gullible’, before?” A voice behind you causing you to jump and turn to see who’d spoken. 

Your gaze hardens as you see Boo Seungkwan standing in your doorway, arms crossed with a small frown painted on his lips. “What are you doing here?” Asking as you push yourself to your feet, brushing off your pant legs before facing him fully. 

“You didn’t notice me? It’s my turn to keep watch over you,” he sighs, “You talk to yourself a lot, don’t you?”

Had you really been thinking aloud earlier? You bite your lip and try to mentally remind yourself to never do that again as you’d never know who could be listening in on you here. Before you can retort, Hansol steps in from the hallway.

“I think that’s enough picking on her, Seungkwan.” He frowns at the other.

“Did you hear me too?” You question, somewhat embarrassed about how this was playing out. 

“I only just arrived,” he shakes his head in the negative. “I came to tell you that dinner is ready but,” Hansol’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at you, noticing how incrementally flustered you’re getting, “have I interrupted something?”

“Nothing at all!” You insist, trying to calm yourself.

“I was going to let the two of you continue to speak, but if I had left you two alone, I knew that he’d probably try and get you out of sorts again,” Hansol notes somewhat stoically, probably thinking to the times where he’d been in the exact same situation. His shoulders shrug before the sound of more approaching footsteps reaches you. 

Soonyoung rushes into the room with loud, heavy stomps. His eyes are somewhat frantic, his voice somewhat annoyed as he speaks, “Hey! It’s dinnertime and I’m absolutely starving.” 

“Sorry about that, I’ll be there soon,” Hansol apologizes to the younger.

Soonyoung then looks to you, “You too, hurry up or Junhui’s gonna eat all of the food again.”

“Sorry Captain Kwon, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You say as he begins to turn on his heels to leave before stopping himself.

His lips purse together before he looks back at you, “Look… can you drop the ‘Captain Kwon’ thing? Just call me Soonyoung, everyone else here does.”

“Are you sure about that?” You question with an inquisitive tilt of your head.

“Why not? We’re practically the same age, aren’t we? And we don’t need honorifics either, I’m not one of those uptight nobles.” He frowns slightly.

“Alright then… Soonyoung.” 

“That’s more like it,” he grins, “Now let’s go.”

The walk to the dining area is more familiar than any other route you’d taken thus far during your stay with the Hwarang. Meals are the only time of day that you really are able to leave your room and have company, even if that company was the other captains of the Hwarang.

“You’re lateee,” a whine from Wen Junhui as he sits in front of his meal, the lids still atop the dishes so as to not let the steam out. “Who’s responsible for this? My stomach’s crying and I think my soup’s already gone cold,” he frowns as everyone finishes filing into the hall. 

“You mean ‘growling’,” Soonyoung snickers as he moves to take his seat next to Junhui, you move to sit on the other side of Junhui, next to Mingyu. “Sometimes it’s really easy to tell that you’re not from here.”

“That doesn’t even matter, you should all apologize to my stomach,” the taller’s hands fly to his abdomen as the remaining captains take their seats, “it’s been desperate for food since this morning’s practice routines.”

A small ‘tch’ from Mingyu as he rolls his eyes at the two, “A commoner correcting a noble, I never thought I’d see the day.” There’s a tinge of sarcasm to his voice as he speaks, the tone disappearing as he pipes up once more, “Alright, now that everyone’s here we can eat.”

There’s general chatter amongst the captains as they start to uncover their dishes and begin to dig into their meals. You sit and eat in relative silence until Junhui’s voice begins to raise on your right.

“There’s hardly enough here to feed a kid, let alone a guy like me,” you turn your head and watch his gaze trail down to Soonyoung’s tray to his right, “I guess I’ll have to take yours…” His now empty hands make a grab for the bowl of rice situated atop Soonyoung’s tray. “Survival of the—”

“Survival of the fittest my ass, Junhui,” the other retorts, sticking out his elbow and hitting the other square in the chest. There’s a hollow thud reverberating around Wen’s ribcage, it sounds painful, but he doesn’t look phased at all. But it did stop him from trying to snatch Soonyoung’s meal. “Why’re you always stealing my food?”

Junhui laughs, you hear Mingyu also let out a small chuckle to your left. “It’s because of the size difference, Soonyoung. I’ve got the bigger body; therefore I need more food.” 

“No way, I’ve gotta eat too!” Soonyoung protests, his elbow still locked in place trying to hold the other back. 

“You’d think they’d be more civil around a woman,” Mingyu, at the tailend of his laughter, notes about the two, “but they’re always like this.” 

“I think I’ve gotten used to it by now,” you respond, setting down the cup of tea you’d been drinking before looking at Hansol, who’s gaze seems to have drifted across the room to the bickering pair.

“How we’ve managed so long without them killing one another is beyond me,” he says before eating a spoonful of the soup in front of him. “Are you not eating?” Hansol questions Seungkwan, who sits next to him. The latter sits reclined back in his seat, seemingly watching the entertainment in front of him instead of touching his food.

“I’m alright. If I eat too much in one sitting I get slow.” He nods, reaching for his cup.

“What do you mean ‘slow’?” Junhui pokes, gaze shifting from Soonyoung to Seungkwan for a moment and then down to the food on the older’s plates. “But if you’re not going to eat…”

“Go for it,” Seungkwan scoots the tray forward with his elbow, passing it over to Junhui as his hand is still occupied with his cup. “As long as I’ve got makgeolli, I’m alright.” 

“Sounds like I’m going with makgeolli too,” Mingyu sighs and passes a few plates from his tray onto yours after noticing that most of your food was already eaten.  

“You don’t have to—” you begin to protest before Seungkwan speaks up again.  

“Don’t worry about eating too much or being a freeloader,” he says, a weird bubbling of guilt arising in your stomach. 

“I understand but I can’t help but feel a little bad…” You state as you look down to the newly acquired plates in front of you.  

“If you’re going to let that get to you, you’re never going to get anything you want,” Hansol says pointedly, continuing to eat the mix of soup in front of him.  

“A- alright,” you nod, picking up your utensils again and beginning to pick at the newfound food on your tray. Because you never had much contact with others during the daytime, it makes having dinner with the captains something of an entertaining and frightening experience every night. But it’s fun. A small smile curls onto your lips at the thought of some normalcy for a moment when you hear Mingyu speak again.

“You know we’re not going to hurt you, right?” He’d seen your smile, probably seeing it as you begin to relax, and he seeks to soothe your anxieties about them even more so. His own lips have a soft smile of their own, an honesty brimming with it. Maybe they’d all been trying to put you at ease with their antics.  

It was troublesome to navigate, you have conflicted feelings about staying with them and taking up their time and resources, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. They seemed to realize that too and instead of scorning you for it, were trying to make the best of it.  

But before you could ponder on the notion for much longer, Song Eunseok enters the room.  

“Captains?” He asks somewhat quietly, but the noise of his arrival had turned all heads towards him. “Do you have a moment?” Voice soft as usual, his eyes teem with a quiet anxiety that you hadn’t ever seen during your brief acquaintance with him. The gaiety that had once erupted in the room comes to a fizz as he begins to speak once more, “I’ve just gotten a letter from Sabi, Seungcheol’s been gravely injured during a skirmish.” 

Your brows raise as Seungkwan shouts out, “What the hell happened?!”  

“A group of Baekje revivalists were laying siege to the chancellor’s home, Seungcheol and Jihoon arrived in time to subdue them, however, Seungcheol was injured at some point during the fight.” 

“Is he going to be alright?” You ask, your hands clenching together, nails digging into the skin.  

“According to Jihoon's letter he is gravely hurt, but the wound is on his left arm.” Eunseok’s teeth gnaw at the insides of his cheek for a moment, “It will be hard for him to draw an arrow or wield a blade but it’s almost certain that he will survive this.”   

“That’s good,” a sigh of relief leaving you, but the air lies tense from the other captains as they await more answers regarding their comrade’s status.  

“Seungcheol should be returning in a few days,” Eunseok nods, a solemn tone to his voice, “I’ll go and talk with Kwak some more regarding the situation, if anything else arises I’ll let you know.” He was already halfway out the door by the time he finished speaking, talking over his shoulder in a bated anxiety to rival that of the rest of the room.  

“An injury so bad he can’t hold a bow or sword?” Hansol almost thinks aloud, “He may have severed an artery. He may never carry a blade again if that’s true…” You now begin to understand the severity of the situation, why the air grew heavy and the voices grew low. “If he were to fight one handed against an opponent of similar skill he would almost certainly lose.”  

“... If push comes to shove he’ll have to take it. Seungcheol’s not just going to give up like that,” Seungkwan frowns, the cup in his hand settling down onto the table in front of him with a small clink before his hands fall into his lap.  

“Don’t say that, Boo,” Junhui’s face mirrors an equal grimace to that of the elder’s. “It’ll look bad if captains start joining the Furies.”  

“... Who?” You question, trying to follow their conversation as best you could but finding yourself lost as they begin to speak of things unknown to you. “The Furies?” 

“Furies,” Soonyoung begins, “They come from something you drink where any injury can be cur—” 

“Soonyoung!” Before you know it, Mingyu is on his feet and striding around you to the young captain. The elder captain’s hand reaches down and pulls up the younger by the front of his robes.  

“Ah—” Soonyoung’s voice catches in his throat, his eyes go wide as if he’s realized he’d said something that he shouldn’t have. 

“You’re overreacting, Kim.” Junhui stands, trying to pry Mingyu’s irontight grasp away from Soonyoung. “It’s my fault anyway, I said something first.” When Mingyu relinquishes Soonyoung’s green robes from his grip, Junhui shoots the younger a sympathetic look, “Sorry.” 

“I should’ve watched myself,” Soonyoung sighs, his hands moving to straighten his now wrinkled garment.  

Junhui’s gaze then turns to you, his tone becoming sterner, “Everything you just heard is something you should never repeat. I know you’re probably curious, but we can’t say anything else about it, so don’t ask.” The cold weight hiding behind his eyes is enough to make you feel uneasy about what you’d just heard. You’re not even sure what they were talking about, but it seems important enough to stay a secret.  

“Those Furies that Soonyoung was talking about are pitiful men,” Seungkwan states as he pushes himself to his feet. His voice held none of the snideness that it normally had, taking on a flatter and emotionless tone. A sate sort of melancholy coming over him, it’s clear he has something on his mind.  

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” Junhui says to you as he breaks the silence, “So don’t try and get worked up about it.” 

Seeing as you were only a guest of the Hwarang and not an actual member among their ranks, you can understand their secrets. But it doesn’t make you any less curious.  

“Try your best to forget about it,” Hansol warns, not so much to you but to your circumstance, “The more involved you become with our affairs will only put you in more danger.” 

The wall built up between you and the captains was almost tangible at this point, not an easy thing to scale or break through. 

Dinner ended in relative silence, you excused yourself to your room and hurried back to collect your thoughts. You exhale a large sigh as you enter, your mind hopping from the fate of the Hwarang’s colonel to what the Furies were. It reminds you of the rakshasa from the Buddhist texts your father had made you read as a young girl. The phrases ‘something you drink’ and ‘becoming a Fury’ bounce around your skull before you stop yourself. Hansol had asked you to forget, but it feels as if him saying that only makes you want to remember. 

For whatever reason, the Hwarang captains were keeping hush about whatever ordeal was occurring. Was it to protect you? Regardless, sticking your nose into their business would only be detrimental to your stay with them. 

With that in mind you try to clear your head as best you can before slipping into bed and trying to drift off to sleep. 

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 3𝔯𝔡, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s been a little over two months since you’d joined the Hwarang at the headquarters in Seorabeol. Jihoon and Seungcheol had returned from their expedition to Sabi, but morale among the men was low. For a while after their return, due to Seungcheol’s injury, a few operations within the organization became hectic due to his absence. The wounds he’d acquired were grim, draining most of the goodness in his nature before your very eyes. He’d spend days locked away in his room, the silence deafening to those who would venture in and try to speak to him.  

On the rare occasion that he did leave his room, his temper lay short before he’d barricade himself away in his abode once more. The Hwarang had offered to let him return to his family for recovery’s sake, but he insisted that his duty remain with his compatriots, despite his abysmal attitude.  

Even though you too were holed up away inside of your room, the ways in which the two of you coped with the ordeal were vastly different. Seungcheol was trapped within himself, fallen from whatever pedestal he thought was his to a mere memory of what once was. You, on the other hand, were merely looking for ways to help your hosts.  

In doing so, you now find yourself wandering the halls of the Hwarang’s main building looking for Lee Jihoon, who hopefully has an assignment for you to complete. Much in fashion for the commander, he was nowhere to be seen. You debate on whether it would be impolite to go to his room directly when an unknown soldier walks up to you. 

Their face is unfamiliar to you and they aren’t wearing the blue robes associated with the Hwarang on patrol. There is a chance you’d never seen them before, but by the way they are looking at you, you can surmise that that isn’t the case.  

“You… wouldn’t have happened to have seen Commander Lee… would you?” You ask as they approach, their gait long and almost prideful.  

“And who are you?” They question, looking you over with scathing eyes as if to detect your character, “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” 

“Oh well… it’s a long story,” you mumble out, noticing their gaze sharpening on you.  

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Their voice raises, the sternness only growing, “Answer me!” 

Fumbling out your words, you introduce yourself quickly.  

“Hmm,” he ponders, gaze softening ever so slightly, “I heard that the Commander recently acquired an apprentice warrior as a new page, it must be you.”  

“I am,” you respond with faux cocksureness, not realizing that the men had referred to you as an apprentice warrior under the Hwarang.  

“Why don’t you enlighten me on how you came to know the Chief and Commander?” The man’s scrutinizing gaze continues as you straighten your posture, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I heard you’re from Toehwa-hyeon, but how were you able to squeeze your way in here?” 

“I didn’t ‘squeeze my way in here’,” you retort, not liking how this man was addressing you.

“Judging by how defensive you’re being, it sounds as if I’ve gotten it right.” He almost scoffs at you in disbelief, “This isn’t some place for a common boy without any worth in his duties or on the battlefield to walk in without earning it. I’ll ask you one last time: how did you come to know the Chief and Commander?”  

You stay silent, unsure of how to address him or what answer would be the right one. Yet, before you can begin to formulate a response, he steps forward and grabs the sleeve of your robes, “I, Suh Kangjoon, am asking you a question.” With the way he states his own name, it’s as if he’s trying to signal himself as someone of importance, but you’d never heard the other captains speak of him before. “What makes you think you can ignore me?” Rather than have a calm air as he asked, his tone had almost shifted to that of a petulant child.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice barks off to the side, coming from one of the hall’s entranceways. Both Kangjoon and you turn to see Jihoon standing in the doorway, an almost scowl painting his lips as he watches the scene before him. Once Kangjoon had realized it was him, his hand falls away from clutching at your robes and returns to his side.  

“Very well, Commander,” he wets his lips as Jihoon approaches before clearing his throat and speaking once again. “I’m here on business with Gukseon Kwak.” 

“Is that right?” Jihoon’s voice is tipped with a poisonous edge, as if he didn’t fully trust the character in front of you. “He failed to mention that to me.” 

“He wrote to me with special orders to aid him while Colonel Choi is out of commission,” he begins, “I have the letter if you’d like to read it.”

“That’s quite alright,” Jihoon waves him off, “but I think it’d be in your interest to know that Kwak is out on training runs with Kwon’s squadron today.” 

“Then I suppose I’ll have to come back at a later date,” the air of faux civility between the two was nearly palpable, Jihoon doing nothing to hide his distaste whereas Kangjoon only looked at him snidely. The newcomer begins to turn on his heels, heading for the exit before his pace slows and leaves the two of you with a few words, “Is it true that you’ve welcomed him as your page, Commander?” 

“Yes,” Jihoon nods, glancing at you for a moment before returning to look at the other, “but it’s no concern to you.” 

A flash of an uncaring smile, “Forgive me, then. I’ll try not to ask more as it seems to be out of my jurisdiction.” Another step before he stills, “I do, however, question your predisposition toward keeping those from higher ranks close to you,” his eyes widen in faux surprise, “Ah, it seems I’ve forgotten myself, please excuse me.”  

Once the stranger has exited the building, only then do you feel a sigh of relief overcome you. But before you have the chance to dwell on it for too long, Jihoon speaks up. 

“You shouldn’t be walking around the headquarters without my permission, you know.” 

“I understand, Commander, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you begin to apologize. 

“Your presence here isn’t known by the other factions of the Hwarang, only those staying here at Shoshin,” He explains, “be mindful of anyone that isn’t a Hwarang from this sect, understood?” 

“Understood,” you nod. “But, can I ask who that man was?”

“That man is a captain of the Hanseong Hwarang. His name is Suh Kangjoon.” Jihoon looks as if he’s wracking his brain for an adequate description of the man, “His archery and swordsmanship are decent, but he’s well read and has a knack for military tactics.” His voice lowers a bit for his next statement. “He’s cunning, so be careful.” 

“Okay.”

 “Regardless of that,” his voice back to a decent volume as his gaze hardens at you, “if you’re not attending to someone then I fully expect you to stay put in your room.” With that, you suppose, he meant to dismiss you back to your quarters as any strict commander should and would have done. Yet, you still have something to ask of him. 

“I actually wanted to ask you something, Commander,” you start, trying your best to look him in the eye instead of anywhere else, “Staying in my room alone for so long makes me feel utterly useless. Is there anything I can do around the compound to make me feel less-than-adequate while I stay here?” 

“You truly can’t find something productive to do in your room?” Almost as if the sincerity of your prior statement was beginning to make him think, his harsh gaze softens just a bit.  

“Not at all,” you shake your head. 

A sigh, “Very well, then. I’ll talk with the other captains about it, so, until then just be on standby.” His arms cross, his gaze once again turning stern, “This is under the condition that you are to keep yourself from interacting with anyone that is not a Hwarang of Shoshin Temple, alright?” 

“Of course,” you can’t help a small smile curling onto your lips, “But… thank you.” 

The two of you part not long after that, and you find the next day via Eunseok that you’re allowed to freely roam the compound now. Albeit you have a few tasks to help out with; cleaning, laundry, and cooking. It isn’t a glamorous job but it is something you’re accustomed to. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The air thick with a humidity sweeping in from the coast, the entirety of the Kingdom of Silla lies in mourning after the death of the posthumously named King Taejong Muyeol. With the lauded last year's effort of him uniting both Silla and Baekje, the former kingdom to the west of Silla, hanging over the heads of every citizen, his death felt like a sharp blow to all. For the first few days of the month, the Hwarang had traveled to Banweolseong, the King’s palace, to pay their respects to the fallen monarch, leaving you alone with only Eunseok as company.  

 Once the Hwarang had steadily returned to the compounds, an air of normalcy once again began to hang over the inhabitants and the buildings themselves. Yet, midway through the month, Emperor Gaozong of the Tang dynasty called in aid from Silla to attack the kingdom of Gogoryeo. The kingdom resides to the north, and the Tang emperor wished to pincer it from both sides so that it would fall under either Tang or Silla rule.

Whereas this may have been the wishes of Taejong Muyeol, the new king, Munmu, found issue in sending out an army so close to the prior monarch’s death. Yet, as an almost tributary state to the Tang, Silla was forced to comply by sending soldiers to the front. No members of the Hwarang were called, as they were to remain in their cities and keep patrol when the officers that normally stood guard could not.  

It’s a cooler day of the beginning of summer, you’d just come back to your room with your laundry when Hansol appears at your door. He stands there for a moment, allowing you to put down the basket of clothes in your hands before speaking, “Commander Lee would like a word with you.” 

A wordless nod and you begin to follow after him. Hansol leads you to the main hall, only stopping at the entranceway and gesturing you inside, you step into the room and hear Hansol go in behind you, closing the door after he enters. Looking around, you spot Jihoon, Seungkwan, Mingyu, Junhui and Soonyoung standing around the hall. It seems as if only the captains and you had been summoned for this meeting.  

“I know you’ve been waiting for this, but the time has come to finally let you out,” Jihoon says once everyone’s settled into a comfortable silence.  

Your lips part and you can barely contain the gasp forming in the back of your throat, “Really?” Unable to contain your excitement, you try to compose yourself before speaking again. “So, there really was someone who saw my father in Hwango-dong?” You question, only hearing rumors of someone who’d seen a man with your father’s profile in one of the city’s districts.  

“We’re not sure if it’s true or not,” Jihoon cedes as he nods his head, “It’s our intention to let you verify for us. Considering that you’d recognize him the best out of everyone here.” 

“So, where is this man who said he saw him?”  

“The initial report outlines Jeolin Inn in Hwango-dong, Hansol’s assigned to do a preliminary check.” Both your and his attention turn to the man Jihoon had named. Did this mean that you were to accompany him to check or were you to wait here until after he’d swept the area? 

“That doesn’t mean that Heo is a guest of the inn though,” Kim chimes in. 

“Yeah,” Junhui agrees, “Being sighted in Hwango-dong could just mean he was walking around Seorabeol.”  

“Exactly,” Jihoon sighs, crossing his arms and looking at Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu, “That’s why I’m asking the three of you to take her out on your rounds to assist her in her search.” 

“All of us?” Soonyoung’s head tilts in confusion, “We normally split up and go our separate ways on our rounds.” 

Rather than entertaining Soonyoung with a response, Jihoon looks back to you. It was a quiet way to say that they were still in charge of looking over you, needing to make sure you wouldn’t try and make a break for it should they take you out in search for your father. 

“We get what you’re trying to say, Jihoon,” Seungkwan notes, “but I don’t like that you’re making us do all of the babysitting. I thought you were planning on patrolling as well?” The teasing lilt to his voice returns, “So, for your benefit why don’t you show your adorable page the ropes by taking her out with you?”

 “Aren’t you the one who pushed her onto me?” Jihoon scoffs, “I’m not taking any of your shit today, Boo. She isn’t my page.” 

“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t, but a lot of the wang-do are beginning to believe it.” Seungkwan notes, crossing his own arms. “There’s always a grain of truth in every lie, so why don’t you give her a job already?” 

As the two continue their stalemating conversation, Mingyu moves to your side and whispers something to you, “Seorabeol isn’t the safest place right now, as you know, so you don’t have to force yourself to leave. I mean we all know what your dad looks like, so it’s not just your risk alone to bear.”  

It seems like you could either explore where your father had last been seen, patrol the surrounding area, accompany Jihoon as his page, or stay here, from what Mingyu had suggested.  

“Then let me be your page, Jihoon,” you say as Mingyu backs away from your side.  

The commander looks at you, something of a distressed light in his eyes, “What?” His voice trembles irately as if the thought of you accompanying him troubles him.  

“I mean, walking around town with you may help with getting leads to find my father, right?” You suggest, adding on seconds later, “And if the wang-do are questioning my place, wouldn’t it be in our best interest for me to act like your page? It might convince them.” 

Jihoon’s expression sours at your words, “There’s no need to take Seungkwan’s words at face value you know, he likes to mess around and have fun with his wor—”  

“Now aren’t you happy to have a cute little page?” Seungkwan smirks as Jihoon stares at him bitterly for cutting him off.  

“Very well,” Jihoon frowns and looks back to you, “you better make sure you stay out of my way though.” 

After nearly five months since your arrival at the Hwarang headquarters, you’re finally able to leave it. The world has changed, green leaves and flowering blooms greeting you as you and Jihoon make your way through the streets of the city. It was more alive than you had left it earlier in the year. 

“I don’t know how it ended up this way,” Jihoon grumbles to himself as the two of you walk through the crowds of Seorabeol. “But I can’t not keep my word…” He keeps himself a few paces in front of you, his mood and tone keeping you somewhat on edge. His attitude had the ability to dictate your own inner thoughts, to question if it really was your place to be here with him.  

As the two of you pass by what looks to be a tea shop, you hear a voice call out to Jihoon. 

“Commander!” A man looking similar in age to you shouts and makes his way over. He doesn’t wear the blue robes that Jihoon had donned in order to patrol the streets, but with the way he was received, it seems like he was a friend. “I have a report that needs to be disclosed as soon as possible.” But if he had called Jihoon ‘Commander’, wouldn’t he still have to be a part of the Hwarang? 

The man steps forward and whispers something into Jihoon’s ear. Jihoon’s eyes widen and then his face goes blank before he turns to you, “I have an urgent matter to attend to.” He looks to the shop you’d stopped in front of, “I’m entrusting you to stay here and ask about Heo.”

“You want me to stay here alone…?” You question, glancing at the shop, “Would that be alright with you?” 

Jihoon stares at you for a moment as if he’s trying to decipher any of your hidden thoughts, “Did you plan on accompanying me just so you could run away?” The pit of your stomach drops at his words. 

“Of course not!” You defend yourself. 

“Then don’t bother me with asinine questions,” he sighs, “Do what I told you and wait here for me to come back, okay?”

 “Okay.”  

And just like that, Jihoon and the newcomer race down the street away from you. Your eyes once again travel to the tea shop, a sigh escapes you before you head inside. The heavy smell of tea rises from every corner of the room, several patrons sit at small tables discussing various topics as you enter. But you aren’t there for that. So, you make your way over to the shopkeeper and inquire about your father.  

Asking him had given you no leads, nor had asking any of the customers coming in or leaving the shop over the course of the next hour. It seemed as if no one knew about your father’s whereabouts. You now sit at a table in the shop, the tea in front of you becoming cold as fragments of leaves swirl around the small cup.  

“The Hwarang are here to conduct a search!” A familiar voice booms at the entrance of the shop, “Everyone, remain calm. Who’s the shopkeeper here?” The last you’d seen this man, he hadn’t been wearing the blues of the Hwarang. It is Suh Kangjoon, one of the captains of the Hwarang’s Hanseong unit, what was he doing here? 

“I’m the owner here,” the frail voice of the elderly man who you’d questioned earlier speaks up, “What is the meaning of your visit?” 

A small ‘tch’ before Kangjoon continues, “I shouldn’t even have to explain myself… It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve allowed Baekje revivalists to conduct their business within this shop.” His voice forceful, unabiding, “What exactly are you plotting? If you don’t answer me, I’ll be forced to take you to headquarters where you will be questioned.” 

“That’s absurd!” The shopkeeper exclaims, “I would never allow that here.” 

“Oh? Then are you questioning the credibility of the Hwarang?” Kangjoon frowns, his eyes narrowing at the elderly man. 

 “Of course I’m not,” sweat begins to glisten on the elderly man’s brow, seemingly terrified at the respect that Kangjoon was asking from him. Kangjoon then scans the store, looking at the patrons, you manage to look away before he has the chance to recognize you.   

“It’s in our best interest to let local shops run unimpeded,” Kangjoon says, his attention returning to the shopkeeper. “So, depending on how well you… cooperate with us, perhaps I could make this little disturbance disappear.” 

“Are you implying…” The shopkeeper's voice dies down before he finishes the thought.

“I’m only suggesting that it would be beneficial to you to share some of your… goodwill.” A coy smile etches itself onto Kangjoon’s lips. Although it isn’t explicitly said, it’s clear that he is soliciting a bribe. 

“I— I can’t afford something like that,” the shopkeep cries out, “There isn’t even anything suspicious happening here!”  

“Hmm?” Kangjoon says, “You’re refusing to help the Hwarang? We’re the protectors of Silla, you know.” 

“I would never do such a thing!”  

“If you refuse to cooperate then I’ll have to take you back to headquarters,” Kangjoon’s voice grows even more stern, “You must be a Baekje sympathizer.”  

“N- No, I’m not!” The man protests.  

The whole conversation makes you feel sick to your stomach, you’re about to speak out when someone puts their hand on your shoulder, rendering you unable to move from your seat. 

“Shh,” they say, their voice rather soft and melodic in your ear as they continue, “Someone like you shouldn’t get involved in such a dangerous situation. He won’t hesitate to cut down anyone in his way.” By the way he looks, you could think him to be some sort of stage actor, but with the sword hanging by his side you know he isn’t as such. “Just leave this to me.” The softness of his voice calms you, and you sit back down in your seat before watching him proceed. 

“Can I ask something?” The stranger says as he walks towards Kangjoon and the shopkeeper, his eyes trained on the malefactor. “You’re with the Hwarang, right?” 

Kangjoon turns, obviously surprised that someone would interrupt him in this situation.  

“I am, why does that matter to you?” He questions with a sneer.  

“The owner of this tea shop has clearly stated he isn’t allowing any Baekje revivalists to meet here,” the stranger says calmly. “So, with what charges were you going to place on him to allow you to question him at your headquarters?” 

“How dare you question me like this,” Kangjoon frowns, “You must be one of those revivalists, right? I should’ve known you’d turn up.” 

“Just because I question you, I’m an enemy?” The man sighs out, “I suppose a fair investigation is out of the question.” 

“You are preventing me from delivering the Crown’s justice, which is enough proof for me,” Kangjoon nods. 

“Very well, then,” The man nods, “If things are going to escalate, would you mind heading outside? I wouldn’t want to upset anyone here.” 

“You sound afraid of getting your pretty little face bloodied up,” Kangjoon scoffs, “Not surprising.” 

Kangjoon then puffs up his chest following the other man outside the store to challenge him to a fight. You quickly follow the pair and watch the scene unfold. Kangjoon’s smirk remains on his face as the two meet each other. He begins to reach for his blade to threaten the newcomer, assuming an offensive stance. 

Yet, before he can pull the blade from its sheath, the other man moves to cover the scabbard’s mouth.  

“Let go! Or else—” Kangjoon shouts before the other begins to speak. 

“You weren’t really going to draw your sword, were you?” The man questions with a small smile and tilt of his head. “If you were, then things between us may get serious, and I’m not sure you’re ready for that.” The duality of the man is easy to see: one side a soft spoken and gentle face; the other is clearly a fighter.  

Suh Kangjoon must feel this duality, because after the man says his piece, he makes no move to draw his blade. A crowd had begun to form around the two men, curious as to what the incident was and what would happen.  

“It seems as if we’re drawing in a crowd,” the man notes. “Are you still planning on fighting?” 

“I never forget a face,” Kangjoon huffs and angrily shakes off the man’s hand. “I will make you live to regret this day.” His face flush with an unholy fury, he spins on his heels and disappears into the crowds of the street.  

The tension from the moments prior dissipates, the crowd surrounding the pair is beginning to dissolve as well. You breathe a sigh of relief as things haven't come to a bloodied fight.  

“That could’ve been ugly,” the man notes, turning his head from watching his opponent saunter off towards you, “Let’s go inside and check on the shopkeeper.”  

“Are you okay?” You ask, there hadn’t been a fight but you’re not sure you could’ve stood up to Kangjoon in that way. 

“Yes,” he nods, “that was nothing.” 

“Why were you willing to risk your life like that against him? You didn’t have to stop me.”  

A slight pink tinges his cheeks as he answers timidly, “To be honest, you reminded me of someone from a long time ago.” 

“Me?” Perplexion in your voice as the comment settles strangely inside you. 

“Yes,” he nods, a small smile on his lips, “you even get flustered like them.” He studies your face for a moment, noting a few things that must be similar to the person he knew. Even if that is somewhat flattering, you still have no idea who this man is. 

“You must’ve mistaken me for someone else,” You bow slightly, and he looks a little taken aback.  

“My apologies, then,” he chuckles, “It seems as if I’m simply mistaken.” He glances towards the shop entrance, “Let’s go back inside, I’m sure your tea and snacks are ruined by now.” His demeanor is overtly gentle, nearly impossible to resist as he draws you back into the shop. 

Upon entering the store, the owner smiles and brings the two of you freshly brewed tea. And once seated back down at your table, you realize there are an assortment of treats waiting for you that hadn’t been there prior. 

“You didn’t have to do this—” the man says to the shopkeeper. 

“Please don’t worry about it,” the elderly man smiles, setting the pot down atop your table as the younger man takes a seat across from you. “You saved me and my shop today, it’s the least I can do.” 

“It was nothing,” the man says shyly, “I didn’t do anything to deserve such kindness. But thank you, I love sweets.” 

“Don’t be shy and have as much as you want,” the owner seems to bow after every sentence, returning to the counter after he’d finished to attend to his other customers.  

“Would you like some?” The man asks and offers out the plate of snacks to you. 

“I think the owner means for you to eat all of this,” you note, you’d feel guilty if you’d indulged in the treats.  

“If you say so,” the man says, setting down the plate and picking up one of the tteok. A smile overcomes him as he enjoys the treat, you’re not sure if you’d ever seen a warrior smile this much. Yet, with every bite he grins like a small child, almost as if he were the happiest man alive. By now you assume it’s safe to surmise that you were close in age with the way he is conducting himself. 

“I suppose it’s time for me to pay my tab,” the man says once he’s finished his tea and a few of the snacks from the plate. He moves to stand, saying something to you as he does, “I’ll be leaving now. Please be careful and try your best to avoid trouble, okay?” 

He leaves before you have the chance to respond, drifting from the store like a ghost after he’d finished paying his bill. The man had given you little to no time to thank him for his actions earlier, so you stand from your table and rush outside to try and find him.

 “Wait!” You call out to him as you race through the exit.  

He’d stopped in his tracks when he’d heard you shout after him, turning on his heels to face you, “Is something wrong?” 

“Thank you for earlier,” you bow down, “You probably saved my life.” 

He chuckles almost humbly as you stand back up, “I really didn’t do anything to warrant this much of a thanks.” His gaze wanders from you to look down the street, “Although it does seem like the Hwarang are losing their grip on some of their members… If today’s incident was any indication of that, I can’t blame people for losing trust in them.”  

“Ah,” you frown, wondering how much people like Kangjoon were responsible for that distrust. “Kangjoon is a cruel man, I don’t think most of the Hwarang would ever treat someone like that. Even if someone’s born a noble, or even joins the Hwarang, it doesn’t automatically make them a good person.” 

“I know,” he looks back at you and nods solemnly, “I don’t think that he represents what the Hwarang stands for at all.” The man continues to look at you for a moment, searching your eyes as if they held a key to something. It looks as if he has something to say, but before he lets it slip past his lips he turns back to the street, he calls out your name before speaking once again, “I guess I’ll be on my way.” 

Your eyes widen as he begins to walk. How did he know your name? The man turns his back fully to you and begins to walk away, disappearing in the thicket of people on the street. You don’t have much time to question who that man was and why he seems to know you before you see Jihoon in the distance, stalking towards the tea shop.  

“Sorry for making you wait so long,” the commander frowns, looking towards the shop as he stops in front of you, “Did you find out any information about your father?” 

You shake your head at him, a small frown coating your lips, “Nothing.”

 “I see,” he sighs, “It’s not like people around here are very prone to talking, either. Don’t let that get you down.”

As the sun begins to make its descent into the sky, the two of you begin to walk back to the Hwarang’s headquarters. You begin to fill him in on what had happened at the tea shop, a scowl forming as he mulls over what you say.

“Kangjoon did what?” It was a palpable rage exuding from him, but not to the extent he needed to lash out at someone. “Don’t tell anyone about what happened today, not even the captains. Alright?” You nod as he continues, “It’s nothing you haven’t heard before but never let your guard down, especially around people you don’t know. The Hwarang has to protect its secrets, sometimes even from its own members. Especially from that idiot.” Sensing that he was talking about Kangjoon, you nod once again.

After that he continues to prod more questions from you about the events earlier in the day. “You mentioned that a soldier, or someone like that, came to your aid in the tea shop. Do you know anything about him?”

Eyes widening as you realize, “I didn’t even ask him his name…”  

“How the hell am I supposed to thank him now?” Jihoon sighs out frustratedly.

 “It all happened so fast I barely had time to catch my own breath,” you try to explain, mentally scolding yourself for your carelessness.  

“I… that’s understandable. If you happen to cross paths again, ask for his name.” He mutters something out under his breath, “Despite that, I’m sorry we didn’t get any relevant information about your father today. Hopefully either Captain Choi or Wen found something of note.” 

 Upon returning to the compound, it was relayed to you that the sighting of your father at the Inn had been false. It pierced you as the sliver of hope you had of finding your father soon slipped quickly and quietly from your grasp. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 7𝔱𝔥, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Kwon Soonyoung and Boo Seungkwan stand in the great hall as you enter. The past few weeks had given you no information on the whereabouts of your father, despite you going on patrol rounds with the different Hwarang captains. You assume the information, or lack of, was the reason for your summoning today by Lee Jihoon. Although the presence of the other two Hwarang captains makes you feel somewhat more relieved that you wouldn’t have to face the demon commander alone.  

“You asked to see me?” There’s a sour look on Jihoon’s face as you ask, something clearly eating away at him.  

“It’s about your father,” he begins, and you perk up for a moment. Jihoon’s frown stays on his face as he looks at you, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you can already tell you won’t like what he says. “I think it’s best we stop searching for him for the time being.” 

“Why?” You can hardly stop yourself from blurting out the question. You’d only been able to search for him for what felt like a handful of weeks, if you were to stop now there was a major possibility you could lose any leads you have.  

Jihoon remains collected, his arms crossing as he speaks again, “We have reports of activity from Baekje loyalists. It would be more than foolish to let you wander the streets in search of your father at a time like this.” 

 You recall your encounter a month ago with Kangjoon at the tea shop. He’d been in search of Baekje spies… was the issue really becoming that bad? It was surely one thing to lose one’s homeland, but Silla had been nothing but civil to the former kingdom’s people, or so you’d heard.  

“Then, are you asking me to stay here until things are resolved with the loyalists?” You question with a tilt of your head, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.  

The commander nods before turning to Soonyoung and Seungkwan, “That being said, as for now she isn’t to accompany any captain on their rounds.” 

“So that’s why you pulled us in here?” The question is more like a musing as it falls from Soonyoung. It seems like he too hadn’t known why he was called here, and it was now beginning to click. “You know, she’s never caused any issues when we took her on our rounds… It feels kind of bad now that she can’t tag along.” 

“Mhm,” Seungkwan nods, “even if something were to happen, as long as she’s not hopping into the fray it should be alright. Besides,” he smirks at you, “it’s not like she could outrun us if she tries to escape.”

 “I won’t run,” you protest firmly, knowing that he was fully joking. Eyes lingering on Seungkwan for a moment before you look back to Jihoon, “I made a promise when I agreed to stay here. I promised I’d look for my father, I can’t hold myself to that if you won’t let me.” 

“Staying with us is putting yourself at risk,” Seungkwan shrugs in your periphery, “if you don’t mind that, I don’t mind you joining us.” His gaze travels to Jihoon, his lips parting, “We’ve had witness reports, I don’t see why we should stop looking when we still have information coming in.” 

“You might have a point, Boo. But are witness reports a justifiable reason to put her in harm’s way?” The commander rebukes, his hands falling to his sides. “By taking her out with us, we’re placing an unnecessary burden on our shoulders.” 

“If I lose the opportunity to search for my father,” fists clenching at your sides, your nails digging into the skin of your palms, “then any future chances of finding him will be nearly impossible.” 

Jihoon looks at you, eyes searching yours, his gaze hardening. You think he’s about to refute you before he starts speaking again. “You need to follow the orders of every captain you’re on patrol with. No sidetracking them. Am I clear?”

 “Yes,” you nod, “of course.” Unsure of how to show your gratitude, you bow towards him. 

“I’m not going to be the one ordering you to join them,” the commander huffs as you rise, “that’s up to your discretion.” 

By the way that the commander spoke, it seems as if he doesn’t want you to leave the compound for whatever reason. You’re unsure what’s caused the full shift in his attitude towards you accompanying the men out on patrol, but for now it’s probably your best bet to stay within the compound for the time being. 

After a few quiet goodbyes, you return to your room. Jihoon’s words of caution reside in your eardrums, you know they’d plague you should you have chosen to go out with either Soonyoung or Seungkwan. So, until that beast of guilt renders itself immobile, you’ll hole yourself up in the headquarters. Staying inside doesn’t make you happy, it reminds you of the first few weeks you’d spent here. Alone and outcast in a world of unfamiliar faces.  

Yet, unlike a few months ago, you now had free roam of the buildings and grounds. Now you find yourself exiting your room, heading towards one of the courtyards littered around the headquarters’ interior.  A soft, summer breeze drifts through the almost-gardens as you enter. The sickly-sweet smell of the decaying flowers from the spring hitting your nose.  

You sit in the courtyard for a while, the soft gusts of wind eventually dying down and forcing you to take the heat of the sun in all its glory. A sheen of sweat coats your brow as you look towards the white clouds in the sky that refuse to block out the sun.  

With little to think about in your ponderance, your thoughts shift from the now blistering heat to your father. You hadn’t thought about it much since your arrival, but the Hwarang had heard of him. Had they been patients of his? Or perhaps he was talking of diseases and how to prevent them the best they could… 

The more you think on the subject, the more a pinpoint of a headache begins to grow. You know that the Hwarang have enough secrets without the aid of your father, but you’re not doubtful that your father may be the cause of some of them. 

“Did they really leave you alone out here?” You jump at the voice behind you, too lost in thought to hear light footsteps approach.  

“Ah,” spinning on your heels, you're met face-to-face with the Hwarang’s colonel. “Seungcheol… is it okay for you to be out here?” Your gaze drops to his bandaged arm, still not yet healed from his wound earlier in the year. 

“It’s not like I need to be bedridden,” he chuckles, gently raising his arm as if to show you it had some movement left within it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” There was a slight bitterness to his words, almost as if he’d taken a bit of an unripe pear and the taste still lingered on his tongue. “Although I suppose my right hand is…”  

A sad and twisted smile curls onto his lips as he looks down to his still injured hand. It hadn’t healed, and by now he was probably realizing that it probably never would. You recall the other captain’s concern when the news had arrived of Seungcheol’s injury, noting that he’d probably never be able to wield a weapon again.  

“And what are you doing out here?” He questions, the bitterness from his voice gone, “I hadn’t realized you were allowed out of your room.” 

Typically, no one batted an eye nowadays if you were walking around the compound. Yet with the heightened tensions in Seorabeol, you suppose being in your room would put more of the Hwarang at ease. The freedom they’d given you was just as easily revoked. 

“I just wanted some space to think, that's all.” You explain, your hand playing with the fabric of your robes, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s just that when you sneak around with none of us knowing, it makes it seem like you have something to hide,” Seungcheol’s lips curve downwards as he listens to your explanation. 

 “Then I’ll go back to my room,” you sigh and begin to walk past him.  

Seungcheol’s coldness had begun ever since he’d come back injured. Albeit, you hadn’t known him long enough to gauge his character before that, but there had been a lightness to it that certainly isn’t here now. The loss of mobility in his arm pained him in more ways than physical, more ways than you could possibly begin to comprehend. 

“It’s—” You stop and look back at him, “hot outside today. You shouldn’t stay in the sun too long. Please take care of yourself.” A nervous laugh as you finish, finding him returning something of a lighthearted chuckle. For the first time in weeks, his smile didn’t look forced. “ 

“Thank you,” he nods, the smile still lingering in his voice, “take care of yourself too.” 

You don’t find yourself coming across any of the other captains until later that evening, when the sun’s already sunk halfway down the horizon and a golden glow begins to encapsulate the headquarters. As you’re heading towards the main hall you hear a smattering of footsteps behind you, you turn and see Junhui heading towards you.  

“What… what’s that for?” You question, looking down at his hands where he’s holding what looks to be an embroidery needed and a thin candle.  

“One of those Baekje guys we picked up isn’t really a talker,” Junhui explains, gesticulating wildly with his hands as he speaks. “Jihoon’s with him but doesn’t have the… uh, means to speak with him.” As he sees your eyes widening in realization, he drops his hands behind his back, shielding the objects from vision. “I’ll stop talking and spare you from thinking any more about it.” He lets out a laugh before skirting around you and heading off towards another hallway. 

There was even more commotion by the time dinner rolled around. The halls now darkened save for the braziers and candles that lit the entrances and walls. You’re sitting in your room when stomping once again disrupts your thoughts. 

“Soonyoung!” You call out, having seen his green robes race by your doorway. Almost as quickly as he had shot past, he returns. “Why’s everyone running around tonight?” You ask as he stands in your doorway, trying to hold himself together with deep breaths. “Did that prisoner say something?”

His eyes light up, his chest puffing out almost proudly, “Yeah, Jihoon finally got the guy to break! It looks like they’re having a meeting right now, we’re actually getting ready for a raid.”

“Wouldn’t that be something the army typically does?”

 “It really depends on the severity…” Soonyoung notes, “But since most of the troops are still up in Hanseong, the Crown let us do this.” He goes on to explain that the Hwarang would be dividing themselves into two groups. Youngmin would lead a group of a dozen men to Wonweol Inn and Jihoon would lead twenty-three to Jeolin Inn on opposite ends of the city. “Rumor has it that they’ll be at Jeolin, I’m kind of upset they’re sending me to Wonweol.” 

It seems as if Jihoon’s forces were rearing to see action, Youngmin’s more so just to make sure all their leads were covered.  

“There aren’t enough men to spread out equally?” You ask, wondering why there was such disparity between the numbers. 

Soonyoung nods, “A lot of men get sick right when we need them the most.” The closeness of bunks typically made for unsanitary conditions, making the spread of disease easy. “We sent out word to the Guard but it doesn’t seem like they care all too much,” he sighs, leaning back on his heels.

 Someone shouts out to him before you’re able to wish him luck, he gives you a curt wave before racing back down the hallway. Sometime after the able-bodied men had left, Seungcheol calls for you to meet him in the main hall. 

“As a courtesy, I assume, Jihoon has asked me to protect the headquarters in his absence,” he relays to you once you’ve settled yourself into the hall. “It’s empty for the most part but that’s a reason they may attack us.” 

“Does that mean you’ll protect me?” You question and he laughs almost immediately, his gold-plated earrings clatter together as his head shakes slightly.  

“I’m sure I can be of more use than the men who’ve been confined to their beds.” It isn’t as reassuring as you thought it’d be, but it was at least something. His smile was sad at his words, probably feeling more and more unhelpful as the days progressed. 

The silence between the two of you stays stagnant until a door to one of the halls opens quietly.  

“Colonel Choi,” a man says as he enters, you recognize him as the face who’d pulled Jihoon away from you when you were out on patrol several weeks ago, “We’ve confirmed that the loyalists are meeting at Wonweol.” 

Seungcheol sighs, his voice light but his face holding a certain sternness, “I suppose we’ve bet wrong again.” The Hwarang had been certain that Jeolin would be the place of the meeting and finding out that Wonweol was actually the location was certainly a blow to their plans. 

“Chan,” Seungcheol looks at the newcomer, “can you do me a favor?” 

Chan nods curtly, awaiting his instruction. You’d come to learn of him through the others, while not a resident of Shoshin Temple, he is both a member of the city Watch and an officer of the Hwarang. He’d been made aware of your situation at some point, so you didn’t need to feel as guarded around him as other members of the Hwarang.  

“First, tell Jihoon that the meeting is at Wonweol, he should still be on his way to Jeolin.” Seungcheol begins and then looks to you, “And I’m sorry to put this on you, but I need you to take her with you.” 

Chan’s eyes widen almost as big as yours as you ask, “Why me? Wouldn’t I only slow him down?” 

“Save for Chan here, you’re the most able-bodied person residing in the headquarters,” Seungcheol says, grimacing at his words as the fingers on his right hand twitch, “even if you’re a burden you may just as well save someone’s life.” 

You bite your lip, seeing that Chan was probably thinking the same thoughts that you were. Yet neither of you were able to oppose the colonel.  

“There’s a chance that the loyalists have called for backup,” Seungcheol looks to Chan, “If your message were to be intercepted then you’d never reach Jihoon in time. Do you see what I’m trying to say?” 

Chan nods slowly, piecing together the elder’s thoughts, “If we run into enemy forces, I could hold them off while she delivers the message…”   

“You want me to do what?!” You can’t help but exclaim. It sounded as if the two of you were caught out, Chan would sacrifice himself so that you could escape.  

“Don’t worry too much,” Seungcheol tries to reassure you, “I doubt it will come to that. We’re short of men right now which means I have to ask you to step in. You’ll need to notify the Guard and the Watch as well.” 

“There’s really no one else who can do this?” You ask hesitantly, daunted by what Seungcheol was asking you to do. “What about Jeon?” 

Jeon Wonwoo is another spy in allegiance with the Hwarang, yet he mostly dealt with Yamato forces.

 Seungcheol shakes his head, revealing that Jeon was already with Jihoon’s team heading towards Jeolin. 

As if seeing the nervousness on your face, Chan steps forward and offers you something of a nervous, sheepish smile. “I heard you know a little bit about protecting yourself,” his eyes glance towards the blade tucked away at your waist, “I unfortunately can’t guarantee your safety, but, if you can manage, you’re welcome to join me.” 

Despite the gentle tone he was using, you know he’d kill you the instant you tried to run. This mission took priority over anything and anyone else in his way. 

“I’ll go,” you nod, taking in a deep breath. “I can take care of myself, there’s no need to worry about me.” 

You can see Seungcheol giving you a small smile as Chan steps back. More than anything, you know that Seungcheol wants to join and fight alongside his men, but it is impossible. The least you can do is carry out the mission in his stead.  

“Then we accept your request, Colonel.” Chan nods and begins to head towards the exit with you following closely behind him. He turns to you as you close the door, “Run with all you can.” 

You take off after him, the slow and itching burn rising from your legs the longer you pursue him. It’s as if the streets were plunged into darkness with how little you could see as you raced by, the sound of dirt under foot sliding with every footfall. You’re beginning to see that half a year indoors with little to no vigorous exercise has done something of a toll to your physique, you aren’t as in shape as you’d once been. 

Had you not been paying attention, you may have slammed into Chan, who stopped abruptly after reaching the edge of the street. 

“No matter what you see or hear, follow this street and don’t look back,” he whispers and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

 “Has someone been following us?” 

His head shakes, “You don’t need to know that.” 

Your breaths heavy, knowing full well that he’d make it faster to Jihoon than you, “Chan you should go, I’ll stay behind.” 

He frowns at you, “What could you do by staying behind?” 

“If I distract them then you could slip away,” you push, resisting the urge to take a peek at whatever was coming after the two of you. 

“If we need bait, then it’s going to be me,” his hand reaches for his sword as he looks past you, “Now, run!” 

It takes no time for him to rush behind you and for your legs to kick off from the ground and begin to barrel down the street in front of you. You hear a clatter of blades behind you, thinking that Chan’s already locked in combat before he calls out, “Keep running until you see white!”

 Knees weakened with the adrenaline of it all, you run down the street. You’re sure that the only way you’d be able to stop preemptively was to tear tendon from bone. Even in your haste you felt sluggish, as if everything around you were frozen in time. You run for another two minutes before spotting two silhouettes wearing white robes in the distance, as you near you can see the Commander with Kim Mingyu. 

“What are you doing here?!” Jihoon says angrily, a tinge of surprise coating his words. You could almost cry in relief at seeing the two of them. 

It’s then you notice that they’re not wearing the typical blue robes of the Hwarang, they’ve instead traded the vibrant hue for a pale white. Maybe it’s for better visibility, but you’re not too certain.  

With shaking limbs, you try to step forward, your knees giving way and you begin to fall towards the ground. Mingyu reaches out to hold you up before you collapse entirely.   

“Are you alright?” He asks as he helps you back to your feet. “You know if Jihoon finds out you left the compound without permission he’ll kill you, right?” 

Rather than explain yourself, you focus on regulating your breath. At this moment you were far too winded to express why you’d left. After one, two breaths you take a third long inhale and turn to the commander.  

“They’re meeting at Wonweol,” huffing out in short puffs of air, you try to straighten yourself to the best of your ability. Jihoon’s eyes widen at your words and he turns to Mingyu. 

“I knew they’d be there!” An almost hiss escapes through his clenched teeth as Mingyu stares back at him. 

Hansol, who you hadn’t seen standing off to the side with another group of men, steps forward. “Are you sure?” He questions you, a grave seriousness intertwined with his words.  

“Seungcheol lost his arm, not his brain,” Jihoon says, looking over to Hansol, “if she’s out here looking for us and not hightailing it back to her hometown, then it’s safe to surmise he sent her.” 

“It’s impressive that you found us,” Mingyu mutters, “Seorabeol is a big city, after all.” 

“It was Chan,” you answer, the burning in your lungs slowly residing. “He told me to find you so he could fight against some of the loyalists.” 

“What about the Guard or the Watch, are they on their way?” Jihoon asks, his hand resting atop the hilt of his sword. When you shake your head, you can almost see him trying to piece together their next move.  

“Choi, Kim, take the men to Wonweol,” He instructs, a commandeering veneer to his words. “There’s something I need to do.” 

The two captains nod and turn back to their men to relay the news and inform them of what their new plans were. Before they begin to move, Hansol looks back to you, “The city’s more dangerous tonight than it’s been on any of our rounds. Either stick with Kim and I or go with Lee.” 

It was a relatively easy choice to make, right? You’d stick with Jihoon as the other two seemed to be off to battle. The prospect of being alone with the stoic commander was somewhat intimidating, but it would put you away from the bloodshed. 

The two of you watch the rest of the group form together and head off into the dimly lit streets towards Wonweol Inn. Jihoon doesn’t say anything until the ringing out of the warrior’s footsteps dissipates into the humid nighttime.  

“Good work in delivering that message,” there’s appreciation in his voice as he looks to you, something resembling a small smile pulling at his lips, “That information may have just given us the advantage we need.” An approving comment from the Hwarang’s demon commander was something that you’d never thought you’d hear; it makes your heart pound gleefully for a moment out of sheer shock of the scenario.  

Jihoon and you step from the narrow street and move to one of Seorabeol’s main roads, a deserted place at this time of night. 

“Jihoon?” You ask, feet treading on the grit of the dirt walkways, “Why are we out here?” 

“The Hwarang don’t hide in the shadows like these Baekje loyalists,” He says matter-of-factly and looks down the street as if he’s searching for something, or someone. 

 It doesn’t take long for a figure to appear running towards the two of you. For a moment you think it’s an enemy and begin to reach for the blade at your hip before recognizing a familiar silhouette.  

“You’re alive!” You gasp out, dropping your hand away from your side as the other approaches.  

Chan doesn’t respond to you verbally, only nods his head with a small smile before straightening up and looking at Jihoon. “I assume you’ve been told what's happening at Wonweol? The colonel told me to notify the Guard and the Watch but...” 

“I’ll have more orders for you in a bit,” Jihoon nods in understanding, “Just stay nearby for now.” He then turns to you as Chan slips wordlessly into a nearby alley. “I’ve got to have a word with a few useless assholes.” There was a spark of anger in his voice, a fire dimly beginning to glow brighter in his eyes. The commander then looks past you; you turn and see an oncoming group of Silla soldiers making their way down the street. Jihoon mutters something you can’t make out under his breath as they near. 

You now realize why he’d brought you out into the main road, neither of you would have seen the oncoming troops had you been tucked away in a side street.  

The pace of the oncoming soldiers was lazy, almost unconcerned in a way that miffed you. Shouldn’t they be worried about stopping a near rebellion from a fallen kingdom?  

“The Hwarang are still fighting at Wonweol… aren’t they?” You ask into the nighttime, a strange fear gripping you as the dwindled numbers of the Hwarang were putting their lives at stake to quell this disturbance. Didn’t these men before you have some, if not more, responsibility to quash it?   

Perhaps the anger and disbelief in your voice was more present than you thought, as Jihoon lets out a small chortle of laughter, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure they stay in line.” He steps out further into the street, directly in front of the group that was now only several meters in front of him. 

All he did was move away from you and face them, but he now holds an aura of authority that hadn’t been there moments prior.  

“The Hwarang are currently conducting an official investigation of Wonweol Inn,” he calls out as they stop before him, his voice echoing around the surrounding buildings. “You will not interfere or enter the Inn.”  

Even you could see the grumblings of protest beginning to stir in the movements of the soldiers when Chan appears from the shadows once more and begins to speak quietly to you, “If Jihoon lets those men walk into Wonweol, they’ll get the credit for subduing the revivalists.”  

“How could they…?” You ask, looking towards Chan. “It’s the Hwarang who are risking their lives for this mess.” 

“It’s more political than just the Hwarang or the soldier taking credit,” Chan sighs as Jihoon continues to shout orders to the soldiers. “Jihoon’s adoptive father’s high ranking in the court’s aristocracy, so are a few of the other captain’s fathers. The Hwarang, in a way, represent them and the soldiers here represent the more military-inclined families. In the end it’s not the question of whether it was the Hwarang or the guard who subdued the loyalists, but which families were behind the winning team, in the Crown’s eyes.” 

“That’s…” Convoluted. Confusing. Complex. Insane. Elaborate. “A lot.” 

Chan must’ve been able to see the confusion in your gaze as he laughs to himself, “That’s only scratching the surface. But it shows the utter disrespect each side has from one another and I expect it won’t be resolved any time soon.” Both of your gazes travel back to the commander at the front of the guard, “Jihoon’s single handedly protecting the Hwarang right now. If we allow them to get to the Inn, they’ll lionize themselves.” 

You can see that Chan thinks highly of Commander Lee in the way he admirably talks of his staunch resolution in doing what’s best for the Hwarang.   

It seems as if Jihoon’s startling tactic was beginning to wane as a few soldiers began to protest his declaration. 

“If you really think you can fit nearly, what, one hundred men?” Jihoon’s eyes scan the lines of soldiers for a moment, “If you think you can fit all of them into Wonweol, you’re insane. The best you can do with these numbers is surround it and make sure no one escapes.” He’s trying to dissuade them; you wonder if they can see it as clearly as you. “Unless you really want to lead your men to the slaughterhouse. There’s already a fight happening, and if you value your lives, I’d suggest you stay put.”

The head official leading the troops relents, stepping away from Jihoon as he finds no room for argument against the commander of the Hwarang. Jihoon stays in front of the troops until a member of the Hwarang finds you all standing there, claiming that the battle has ended. 

Jihoon, Chan and you had returned to the compound as the first wave of Hwarang were returning from the skirmish. The fight had only lasted a matter of two hours, but to you it had felt like much longer. There had been nearly two dozen revivalists congregating at the inn, the Hwarang had ended up killing seven of their members and injuring four more of them.

Chan tells you later in the night that, with the aid of the Guard and Watch, sixteen more people in the city were arrested in relation to the Wonweol incident. The owner of the inn had also been arrested as he was aiding in the escape of several of the loyalists.  

The Hwarang had prevailed, despite having the weaker numbers, in an incredible victory. Yet, with that victory also came some losses. Seungkwan had taken a blow to the chest and fell unconscious shortly after, Soonyoung had been cut across his forehead and the bleeding hadn’t relented, Junhui had injured his hand in a brawl, one Hwarang had lost his life and two others were severely injured. It didn’t seem as if the last two would make it the week due to the severity of their injuries. 

With the quelling of the revivalist by Hwarang hands, it seems as if the group were now in a more favorable light with the Crown. As well as with the court members who vied for the organization’s success. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 8𝔱𝔥, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Thanks for patching me up,” Junhui smiles at you as you finish tying together the bandage wrapped around his hand. “You’re pretty skilled at this.”

“It’s no problem,” you smile at him, rolling the remaining gauze together. “You should really take it easy, though– So your wound doesn’t reopen.”

“Ah,” Junhui frowns, “As soon as you’re done here, I’m supposed to go looking for the revivalists that escaped.”

“I see…” You understand that it was of the utmost importance that the Hwarang find them, but as the daughter of a physician you can’t help but worry about your patients. 

“Have you heard anything about Soonyoung and Seungkwan? Have they woken up yet?” He asks as he rises to his feet.

“They’re awake,” you nod, packing away the gauze into a bag used for medical supplies. “Their wounds aren’t that bad, but being kicked in the stomach and slashed on the forehead are still pretty serious. There may be repercussions that we can’t see, like internal bleeding.”

“To think it was enough to make Seungkwan cough blood,” he sighs as you stand, a stern expression hardening his features. 

Suddenly, the door to the room slides open and Mingyu bursts in, his eyes looking frantically around at the other aides before settling on you, “Are you free? There’s a warrior who’s in pretty bad shape.”

“Of course!” You nod and quickly follow after him. Many Hwarang were injured after the incident at Wonweol and you made a promise to treat and nurse them the best you can. 

Before you realize it, dusk sweeps over the compound. Your eyes are heavy with the sleep you forwent the night prior. For the first time in hours, there was no one for you to treat, but that still doesn’t mean there isn’t work to do. Once you leave one of the injured Hwarang’s rooms, you go to find the others and get direction about what or who to focus on next. Yet, as you close the door behind you, you hear footsteps approaching. 

“There you are!” Jihoon says, “There’s a captain’s meeting in the main hall in a few minutes. I’m sorry to bother you when you’ve just cleaned up, but can you make tea for us all?”

“Of course,” you say quickly, stifling a yawn. “I’ll bring some right away.”

A handful of minutes later you find yourself with a tray in hand, a steaming pot of tea and several cups adorning the surface as you make your way into the main hall. Upon entering, you see the captains reunited. 

“Here you all go,” you say quietly so as to not disturb them and set about handing everyone a cup and pouring them a serving. 

“Thank you,” Youngmin smiles gratefully as he picks up his cup. 

Apparently, you’ve come in just as the captains are about to give their reports of their rounds earlier today. 

“There was no sign of revivalist activity during my rounds with my division earlier,” Hansol reports. 

“I’m sure word has already spread about the incident last night,” Jihoon muses, “I thought they’d be out for blood but I guess I’m wrong.”

“We can’t let our guard down,” Seungcheol reminds him, “They may be waiting until it’s dark again to make a move.”

“A valid point,” Youngmin agrees.

“You just got back from a meeting with the Guard, right?” Mingyu asks him, “What’d they say?”

“Ah…” Youngmin sighs, “They want their own warriors to accompany us on our rounds to catch the remnants of the loyalists.”

“No way,” Junhui nearly spits in anger, “They just want the fame for when we catch them!”

“Precisely.” Seungcheol nods, “If Commander Lee hadn’t stopped them from entering the Inn last night, the Crown would be praising them.”

“Whatever the reason, I cannot refuse an order coming from the Guard with the Crown backing them.” Youngmin looks to Jihoon, “So, I’d like to charge one of you with the rounds in cooperation with their warriors.”

“Not me,” Junhui says almost immediately, “I don’t know them, nor do I want to be responsible for their lives if things do come to a head.”

“Me either,” Mingyu adds, “My tongue may slip and I might say something unsavory to those opportunistic bastards.”

“That’s not… very helpful…” Youngmin sighs, “Hansol…?”

Suh Kangjoon interrupts before Hansol can even open his mouth, “Wait, Chief. Please entrust the Guard warriors to my division. I fully understand how important this mission is to undertake.” He snidely glares at Mingyu and Junhui before continuing, “The other captains don’t seem to have a grasp on the situation, probably because they lack the education and politicking.”

“I dare you to repeat that–!” Mingyu says angrily, nearly rising to his feet.

“If you’re looking for a fight, come with us and get your ass kicked,” Junhui frowns. 

“Calm down,” Kangjoon says almost in a way to belittle them. “I’ll give you a simple rundown. Of course the Guard wants to make sure we don’t get full credit. But they also want to make sure we’re not trying to take their place. So it is vital to us that what they see and hear about the Hwarng presents us in a good light.”

Slowly nodding in agreement, Youngmin looks to the Commander and Colonel, “Jihoon, Seungcheol, you’re on board?”

“Suh is so admirably dedicated to the Hwarang,” Seungcheol says.

“Fine.” Jihoon waves, “Suh, you’re in charge of the Guard. But I don’t want any fuss.”

“I won’t cause any,” Kangjoon says with a sly smile. 

“If you encounter any loyalists, make sure not to let them slip through your fingers.” Seungcheol warns, “If a mistake is made in front of the Guard, all the work we put into the success of Wonweol will be for nothing.”

“I give my word as a Suh,” Kangjoon says, although he seems already eager to leave. “The interests of the Hwarang always come first.

July 12th - Shoshin Temple, Kingdom of Silla

A few more days passed without any incident, but a rumor has begun to spread that the Guard are going to do something to retaliate for the praise they could have gotten from Wonweol. Everyone at the compound is walking on eggshells. 

Even with everyone on edge, there are still things for you to be doing. So, you find yourself sweeping off the entranceway of the temple as the sun just begins to sink into the sky. Most of the warriors that pass nervously glance left and right every time they move. There haven’t been any incidents or injuries on the rounds, and yet the question remains in the air every time someone heads out: Will they come back safely?

“What are you doing outside?!” Mingyu’s voice makes you nearly jump out of your skin. 

“Captain Kim–!” You breathe deeply to calm yourself, “Did something happen? You look on edge.”

“Of course I am when I see you like that. It’s dangerous!” He motions you to return inside, “Cleaning can wait.”

“Then something happened?” You take a step forward, you knuckles tightening around the grip of the broom. 

“Ah,” he shakes his head, “I’m actually not sure myself, but the Watch might retaliate.”

“The Watch?” Your eyebrows raise as you follow him inside.

“I’ll explain but let’s get moving first.”

You follow him to the main room where Jihoon, Youngmin, and Seungcheol sit with sour faces. Kangjoon stands before them, pale as a ghost. Has something happened on the rounds?

“Dammit, Suh!” Jihoon shouts angrily enough that it looks as if the earring on his right ear may come flying off. “Fuck! I warned you, I insisted like a hammer to a nail but congratulations! You did a hell of a job.” Furious sarcasm drips from his words as Seungcheol disrupts his tirade with a cough to change the tone.

“Explain yourself, Captain Suh.” Seungcheol says with calm fury. “What are your thoughts on this situation?”

“It’s a huge misunderstanding! Please, let me explain myself.” Kangjoon then begins to list a reason of explanations. He and his division had met a suspicious swordsman on their rounds, in an attempt to stop him, Kangjoon had used his swords and injured him, but in the end they discovered that the swordsman was a man of the Watch. “To be fair, if the man had been honest from the start and revealed himself, none of this would have happened.”

“It’s true that trying to stop a swordsman from fleeing can’t be considered a fault…” Seungcheol sighs, “But resorting to using your sword… And all that in front of the Guard representative, who you’ve been entrusted with.” 

“What a mess,” Jihoon frowns, “And the Guard can’t go and pretend they didn’t see anything. And of course, the Watch is going to ask for reparation since it’s their guy who got injured… Damn it. Why is this shit always happening to us?”

“May I have a word?” Lee Chan steps forward and whispers something into Jihoon’s ear.

“He what?!” Jihoon’s eyes go wide.

“I got the information from a source within the Watch. He died earlier today.” Chan says and steps back a few feet.

“That’s awful,” Jihoon says with a ‘tch’, “We’d better keep our heads low for a while and see if we’ve got the situation under control.” He rises from sitting with a sigh, “Gukseon Kwak and I will head to both the Guard and the Watch to apologize.”

“It would be wise for us to go to them rather than wait for their direction,” Seungcheol nods in agreement. 

“Suh, you’re coming too.” Jihoon glances at the captain, “We’ll leave as soon as we’re ready.”

“Ah… You… You want me to come…?” Kangjoon looks stunned. “But what if they consider me guilty as well…? Being ordered to–”

Jihoon lets out a bark of a laugh before turning fully to Kangjoon, shouting at him, “You’re taking responsibility for your actions! Now get the fuck out and get ready!”

Even though you’re only listening to what’s happening and have no part in it, you can see and feel how stressful and hectic the situation is. Why had the Watch soldier killed himself? Perhaps they had their own code of laws like the Hwarang did the O Gye. But it seems a bit exaggerated to have done that over something like this.

You follow the men out to the front of the compounds with the other captains to see them off.

“Well then, let’s get going.” Youngmin says and looks to Seungcheol, “Colonel Choi, the headquarters are now in your hands.”

“...Chief, Colonel, Commander!” Kangjoon says as he stands before them once more, “I never meant to cause trouble for the Hwarang. Please believe me!”

“It’s not us who are going to judge you,” Jihoon says shortly, “Let’s go.” He immediately starts walking, not wanting to hear any more protests from Kangjoon. But before he gets very far, a figure runs out from the shadows.

“You’re still here? Thank goodness I found you in time.” They say, racing over to Jihoon.

“What’s happening, Jeon?” Jihoon questions as Wonwoo comes into view. 

“You see… the Guard who accompanied Suh on his rounds has also committed honorable suicide.”

“Another one?!” Jihoon staggers.

“The Guard want our commanders to join them as soon as possible.”

“I guess that’ll calm down the Watch,” Jihoon sighs, “Now I hope this is going to be the end of it.”

“So I– We don’t need to go to the Watch anymore?” Kangjoon asks.

“You idiot,” Jihoon growls at him, “You’re the cause of this mess! Of course you’re coming. And you’re going to apologize to the Guard and the Watch! Now!”

“I… Of course…”

“I guess this is good to know before we go,” Youngmin smiles weakly, “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, but… No choice, we have to go.”

With that, Youngmin and Jihoon leave for the Guard, Kangjoon following them reluctantly.

By the time you settle in your rooms, readying yourself for bed, the men haven’t returned from their meetings. Being too worried to find sleep before they arrive back, you impatient wait for them before you resign yourself to sleep.

Had their negotiations gone well? If they hadn’t, then all of the work the Hwarang poured into the Wonweol incident would vanish in an instant.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear footsteps in the corridor outside of your room. Quickly standing, you make your way to your door and slide it open.

“Huh?” You hear Jihoon sound out and turn towards the sound of your door opening, “Why are you still awake? You could have gone to sleep. You haven’t slept much the last few days.”

“Have you eaten yet?” You question as you step out into the corridor, “Do you want me to prepare something real quick?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’m fine. Sorry for worrying you.”

“You look… Drained.” You say softly, noting his pallid looking complexion, “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah, well I’m facing so many problems I’m beginning to think attracting them is a special talent of mine.” With the way he says that, you wonder what happened during the discussion with the Guard. Judging by his face, the worst case scenario must have been avoided, but something is still lingering with him,

“... If you can’t sleep, join me for a bit.”

“Huh?” You feel your cheeks begin to warm, “Our relationship isn’t that kind of… I mean…”

“I’m feeling overwhelmed, too. I can’t go back to my room because I’m sure I’ll be too frustrated to sleep.” He begins to walk, “Come with me, it’s fine. If we talk here, we’re going to wake everyone up.”

In the tranquility of the night, you can only hear crickets as he leads you to one of the empty courtyards. In your sleep-deprived mind, this feels as if time has suspended itself. 

“... We’re here then, let’s talk.” Jihoon stops abruptly and you need to stop yourself before you run into him as he turns around to face you. “What do you want to know?”

“You’re sure it’s okay for me to ask?” You pose, “And for you to tell me about it?”

“The more you know, the better you’ll sleep,” Jihoon says simply. “In short, everything that Wonwoo said before we left was true.”

“So the warrior going on rounds with Captain Suh did kill himself…?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “that.”

“I have to admit that I don’t get the big picture of today’s events…” You admit, breaking away from his gaze momentarily, “I don’t understand it well.” As far as you’d heard, none of the men had been guilty of anything. 

“In situations like these, we don’t always choose to do the right thing,” he sighs, crossing his arms as you look at him. “The honor of a warrior is more important than his life. The Watch guy chose it to save face. For the Guard one, it’s different. He was ordered to do so by his commander to stop any escalation with the Watch.”

Even as he explains it calmly, a chill still runs down your spine. Regardless of you own turmoil, he continues to speak with the same coldness. “With the Wonweol incident, I managed for the Hwarang to make a name for itself… If we want to have the Crown’s support, their entire support, having good relationships with the Guard is first above all.”

You stand there at a loss for words. This time, the Hwarang were not ordered to fall upon their swords but there is no guarantee that something similar won’t happen in the future. The next victim in this endless power struggle could very well be a member of the Hwarang.

“Our job is to keep order and kill those who stand in the way of it. Do the dirty work if needs be.” Jihoon locks eyes with you, “...That said, do you want to leave?” He sighs, “Well, it’s not like we can let you go, anyway.”

“You know, I… I really want to be useful to you all.” With his shocked expression you wonder if your answer was that unexpected. 

“Are you serious?” His brow furrows, “At this point we’re just murderers, it seems.”

“There may be some truth to that…” You murmur, “But without you Seorabeol could have been reduced to ashes by now. I’m from a small village and I don’t fully grasp what it means to be a noble or to embrace a warrior’s code… Still, I hope I can help you, even if only with my limited medical knowledge.”

Jihoon watches your face, not interrupting you. It’s almost as if he’s looking into your heart, seeking the depth of your resolution. 

“You look weak but your heart is strong, isn’t it?” He gives you a small smile. “I thought we scared you and made you want to run with what happened at Wonweol.” You find that he looks gentle when he smiles. The longer you look at him, you feel the stiffness that has been there since the night at Wonweol slowly lift away. 

“By the way, I forgot to thank you. You really proved to be an asset at Wonweol. You haven’t complained once since then and have been actively working for everyone’s sake behind the scenes…” He pauses for a moment, “I’m in your debt for everything you do for us. If you stay here, we’ll protect you. You’ve got my word.” 

You can’t help but return a smile of your own, “...Thank you very much.”

To follow their warrior’s path– you can’t really help with that or like what vicious means they have to expend to dispense the king’s justice. But you don’t feel wrong in wanting to support Jihoon and the rest of the warriors. This thought is as strong as ever as you look at the commander’s face, illuminated in the moonlight. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 20𝔱𝔥, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 As you walk down the corridors of the Hwarang’s compound, you carefully hold a book that Jeon Wonwoo had given you several minutes earlier. Coming to work with him, you find that he is more versed in Silla medicine than the Tang that your father had slightly taught you as you grew older. In a small promise, you tell him things you can remember from the trade and he has lent you the very book you hold of his own notes. And seeing that he is far superbly more versed in actually treating people, you find yourself in charge of bandage changing and wound cleaning. You’re happy to be in service to the soldiers, but they don’t make it any easier. 

“Are you sure you want to go?” You hear a voice chime out from a room just ahead of you, “She’ll be here any minute.”

“It’s fine! My forehead is as good as new by now!” With almost certainty, you can tell that it’s Kwon Soonyoung speaking. 

“Well said, Soonyoungie! The reward for Wonweol should come pretty soon!” You hear Junhui laugh, “Let’s spend a little too much of that money, shall we?”

With widened eyes as you’ve become privy to their plans, you race into the main room where you heard them speak.

“Captain Kwon! Where do you think you’re going?” You call out and Soonyoung turns quickly on his heels to face you.

“Ah–! I thought I told you to call me–” He notices the angered expression on your face, “Oh man– It’s not me! I swear! It’s Jun who wants to go out!”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Junhui raises his hands in defense, “Are you trying to let me carry this alone?!”

“That’s enough!” You say sternly, “I’ve told you many times that alcohol isn’t good for fresh wounds and that you shouldn’t drink until the wound heals!”

“Harp on him some more,” Mingyu nods towards Soonyoung, “Even though he’s not allowed to practice with his sword he sneaks out everyday to show off the scar on his forehead.” 

“Argh, Gyu! Stop talking!”

“I’ve repeated on and on how you shouldn’t remove the bandage!” You vent, you could almost feel the steam leaving your ears.

“Don’t bother,” Mingyu sighs and nods towards Junhui, “He’s not much better than a child when it comes to listening.”

“But you’re the ones who are tempting him with alcohol even though you know he shouldn’t drink any, right?” You frown. 

“Huh? No way… We wouldn’t do that, right, Mingyu?” Junhui hums.

“S– Sure! Going out for a drink doesn’t necessarily mean alcohol… It can be water.” Mingyu says, trying to cover his ass. 

“Gyu!” Junhui whispers loudly, “What do you have to say it like that?! It sounds suspicious as hell!” 

“What can I say?” Mingyu shrugs, “I hate lying.”

“Enough!” You interrupt them, “If you don’t respect the rules then Soonyoung’s wound isn’t going to heal!”

“Hey!” Soonyoung says quickly, “I’m not the one fooling around with my injury!”

“True! Seungkwan participates in sword fighting lessons every day!” Junhui nods in agreement.

“Captain Boo does…?!” You take a moment to calm your breathing, “OK… So as soon as I’m done cleaning Soonyoung’s wound, I’ll pay a visit to him.”

“That paste medicine?” Soonyoung winces, “I hate that stuff.”

“Maybe,” you begin to reach for the medicine bag on your back. “But it works wonders so come here.”

After you’re done treating his wound, you go to look for Seungkwan loitering around the compound, but for some reason you can’t seem to find him. It’s not like he’s on patrol– the commander had deemed him too injured for that right now. As you round one of the compound’s hallways you do find yourself almost smacking into him.

“Oh, hey,” Seungkwan greets you as you reel backwards in surprise. “What are you up to, cleaning?”

“That’s the least of my concerns!” You say, noticing that he wasn’t wearing his normal lounging clothes, “You know I was supposed to come and check on your injury, where were you?”

“Ah,” he sighs sheepishly, “The kids from the merchant district wanted to play so I went out with them.”

“You went out–? I told you to rest and not move until your injury was healed.”

“You’re exaggerating,” he waves his hand to dismiss your statement, “It’s not like my wound is going to get worse just because I played jegichagi.”

“You don’t know that! You could be bleeding from inside your stomach, or your organs might be damaged!” You don’t relent, pressing him further. “I also heard you’ve been going to sword practice every day.”

“Right,” he nods simply, “If I don’t practice, then I’m going to get weak.”

“But if you don’t recover, you may never be able to practice again,” You counter.

“Okay, okay,” Seungkwan sighs, “Then hurry up and take care of me.”

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 23𝔯𝔡, 661 - 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 You find yourself in a similar predicament a few days later when you fail to find either Soonyoung or Seungkwan roaming about the compounds. Yet, you’re a bit thankful as you’re running low on medical supplies and you need permission from Jihoon to go and purchase more. 

“Medicine shopping?” The commander questions you once you’d found him in his quarters.

A nod, “For Captain Boo and Soonyoung. I was going to ask another captain but it seems as if they’re all on patrol…”

“Then do you want me to tag along?” He asks and you look at him, a bit surprised.

“You, Commander…?”

“Normally I’d ask Chan to do this, but he’s currently investigating something for me,” Jihoon explains, “We’ve got a lot of injured men, no one’s really free to go.”

“But surely you must be very busy too…” You murmur, feeling bad if you have to pull him away from work. There are piles of papers on his desk, which you suppose have been sent from the Crown, the Guard, and the Watch. “I was writing a report about the incident at Wonweol, but it’s fine. I should take a break anyway.”

You give him a small smile, “Well, thank you for coming with me.”

The two of you traverse the streets of Seorabeol together. While you hop from merchant to merchant, you try to keep an eye out for anyone that looks like your father but come up empty-handed.

Jihoon sighs as you pay a merchant for some powdered poria, “We still can’t find him…” Even after asking a few of the merchants, they hadn’t come across anyone like your father. Seeing your glum expression he notes, “We will find him eventually. Don’t give up hope.”

“Alright,” you nod as the two of you walk away from the storefront. 

Jihoon always appears very strict but when he speaks like this you see a glimpse of his gentler self.

“After the Wonweol incident, it seems like the loyalists have toned it down a bit,” he nods, “The rounds are going to be less dangerous for a while. So you can join the captains again and search for Heo, if you’d like.”

The grip you have on the parcel of medicine tightens, until now you’d stayed behind on the patrols in fear of something happening. With Jihoon’s words, you grow a bit more at ease with the thought of leaving. 

“I think we’ve known you for long enough now to trust that you wont run,” he nods with a smile after noting your reaction, “I don’t want to brag but I’m fairly good at reading people… Anyway, where should we go next? Did you get all of the medicine you needed?”

“Oh, right!” You bring out the list of herbs from your robes, “I actually need some ginseng root…”

After you have finished purchasing everything you require, the two of you head back to the headquarters.

“Bandages here… And this one is for wounds…” You mutter to yourself as you rummage through the medicine supply room, storing everything purchased today. 

“What’s that?” Jihoon asks as he peers over your shoulder.

“A decoction for curing summer sickness, I think it has gokaju in it…” You note, popping the lid from the pitcher and wincing at the alcoholic scent.

“Don’t keep it in plain sight, the warriors will smell it and take it,” Jihoon sighs, knowing how the rowdier men are. “Hide it somewhere.”

“Ah, right.” You nod, beginning to look for an ideal hiding spot. Looking around the space, you see shattered remnants of storage containers littered in the corners of the closet, “Maybe I should clean up first. If it’s dirty I don’t know how well things will keep in here.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Jihoon notes, “And it’s a lot of furniture to move in here…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be–”

“Ask the free warriors to help you, you shouldn’t overdo it.” He interrupts. 

As nice of a thought as it is, you know everyone is probably very busy at the moment. “No,” shake your head, “I’ll be alright on my own. Everyone else has more important things to do.”

“You’re sure you’re okay with it?” He asks with a raised brow.

“Yes,” you nod enthusiastically, “I’ll be done in no time!”

“Fine,” he says a bit reluctantly, “I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you need anything.” After you assure him you’ll be alright he spins on his heels, returning to his quarters.

It takes you what feels like years, but you eventually get the closet into a somewhat presentable condition. Things had been missorted into the yakjang and it had taken you nearly an hour to sort through the drawers. 

The door behind you swings open and you hear Jihoon ask, “How’s it going?”

“I’m finished with the chest here and the corners… but there’s something strange…” As soon as the words leave you, you hear the pittering sound of an animal’s footsteps in the ceiling.

“Are you kidding me– Mice?” Jihoon’s eyes widen as he looks upwards.

“Probably,” you sigh, “I’ll take a look.” 

“Be careful–” he says as you reach for the ladder that accompanies the shelf, it should get you high enough where you can look at the beams that support the roof. You climb up it, raising one of the boards of the ceiling once you reach the top.

As soon as you open it, you’re startled by a mouse darting out and you begin to fall off of the ladder, “Ah–!”

“Watch out!” Jihoon shouts as you begin to fall towards the floor. Surprisingly, though, you don’t hit the ground. There’s a jerk and you open your eyes to see that Jihoon had caught you mid fall, his hands holding your hips as he steadies you on the ladder.

As soon as the fear subsides, your blood rushes and your heart begins to pound hard against your chest. 

“Are you okay?” He asks softly. 

You find yourself still dazed, never have had a man touch you like this even if it was for your safety. “I’m so sorry!” You say quickly as your face warms. 

“Are you able to grab back onto the ladder? Or should I guide you to the floor?” 

“Ah,” you say, trying to move but realize the hem of your sleeve caught between two of the rough wooden boards  of the ceiling, “My sleeve…” You try several times without success to free yourself.

“Hey, stop wiggling so much!” Jihoon says and his grip tightens to hold you in place.

“R–Right…” You meekly say and try once more to free your sleeve. Eventually, it pulls out and you manage to get yourself back onto the floor. “I– I’m really sorry about that.” 

“There’s nothing you have to apologize for,” Jihoon says quickly, “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“I know,” you murmur, “But it’s because I was careless.”

His arms cross, “Just be careful next time and you’ll be fine. It’s a good thing I just happened to walk by. You could’ve injured yourself if you were alone.”

“I’ll be careful,” the heat in your face isn’t residing, moreso out of embarrassment now. 

The air hangs awkwardly between the two of you now. It takes a moment for him to speak again, “So… Are you done cleaning?”

“I am,” you say far too quickly. “I just need to put away the ladder and I’ll be done.” 

“I’ve got it,” he says, reaching out for the ladder and moving it back to its corner. You note that Jihoon’s behavior is a bit off, not like his controlled, usual self. Perhaps he’s concerned about what happened earlier. “All done,” he says.

“Thank you for your help.”

“I should be thanking you,” he smiles, “You cleaned up this hellhole of a closet… Thanks. Now take the rest of the day off.”

“I will,” you return the smile gratefully, “Don’t worry about me.”

“Hm,” his expression drops and you furrow your brow. “I wish the injured warriors could take after you and rest when asked to.”

“It would make things much easier, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, “But most of them aren’t the obedient type anyway… Well, if everything’s fine here, I’m heading back to my room.”

“Please do,” you say, noting how tired he looks. It must be taxing to keep a hold on the men who can be so carefree and hot headed at times. Perhaps you’ll stop by his room later with some tea.

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 2𝔫𝔡, 661 - 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Ever since the raids on both Wonweol and Jeolin Inn, the Hwarang had become stricter on their rounds around Seorabeol, looking for and capturing any of the Baekje revivalists that had escaped that night. Rumors had begun to plague the streets that the loyalists were looking for revenge on those who tried to stop their rebellion. On top of that, the Hwarang were under harsh scrutiny of their opposers in the Crown’s court. Despite them having stopped a meeting that was calling for the kidnapping of Silla’s monarch, a fact you had come to learn of after the raids. 

Yet as the days creeped more lethargically into the summer, it seems as if the tensions that had arisen earlier in the season were dying down. Life was somewhat steady again. And due to your efforts during the battle, the Hwarang were growing more receptive and encouraging of your involvement with them. A small victory, for sure, but you were now allowed to complete chores in solitude now rather than being watched over by one of the captains. That’s where you find yourself now, sweeping away the dust that had accumulated in the overnight winds in front of the complex.  

You’re humming to yourself, brushing the boom atop the agate stone of the entrance when you hear gentle footsteps walking up the stairs to the main gate.  

“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls out to you, “Is this the Hwarang headquarters?”  

You look up from your work, your lips parting in mild surprise at seeing a familiar face, “It is.” After staring at him for a second longer than what was probably considered adequate, you pose your own question, “Haven’t we met before?” 

“Ah, yes- hello,” the man smiles at you, the sunlight glimmering off of the purple silk of his robes, “It’s been a while since the tea shop, hasn’t it?” 

This was the unknown man that had stepped in to confront Kangjoon for you earlier this year. It didn’t look as if he’d changed much, that happy-go-lucky aura still exuding from him as he stands in front of you. 

“It has,” you return the smile, “Thank you again for helping out that day.” 

“It’s no problem,” he says quietly, “Like I said that day, it was my pleasure. In any case, I’m glad to see that you’re doing well.”

 It’s not until this moment that you realize that he’d called you by name the last you’d met. You can’t recall giving him it, but your memory was still a little frazzled from that day.

“I’m sorry for not asking you your name despite all you did for me and those people,” you say quickly, remembering how Jihoon had been agitated that you’d forgotten to ask the man his name.  

His eyes shine for a moment, a faint melancholy in his voice as he responds, “My name is Lee Seokmin.”  

It strikes you as a rather pretty name, or maybe it was because he’d said it so lightly. Regardless, you nod your head in understanding, “How can I help you?” 

“Ah, well,” his eyes keep shifting from you to the Hwarang’s main building. You conclude he was here on some sort of business to discuss with the Hwarang. Seeing as the last you’d met, Seokmin had defended the tea shop against a rambunctious member of the group, you wonder if he’s here to report Kangjoon to the higher-ups.  

As if he had telepathic means to tell if you’d strayed away from your task, the front entrance of the hall swings open, Jihoon standing in the doorway. He looks from you to Seokmin and then back to you, pausing as if to let you speak. 

“Commander,” eyebrows raising in surprise, “This is-” 

Before you could finish speaking, Seokmin almost gleefully runs to the commander. 

“I knew it!” Seokmin says, an unhidden delight in his words as he smiles at Jihoon, “It’s me, Seokmin, long time no see!” 

“Y- Wait, Seokmin?” Jihoon looks surprised as the other announces himself, “What are you doing here?!” 

A laugh from Seokmin, “Are you surprised? I’m visiting Seorabeol with the Crown’s orders.” He waves his hand, “But forget about that. I can’t believe it was you connected to the Hwarang! I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Congratulations, you really followed your and Hoseok’s dream.” 

The name lingers in the air heavily for a moment between the two, you’ve never heard of a Hoseok before. Looking at the two of them, it must’ve been at least an acquaintance of theirs.  

Jihoon doesn’t let the weight last, breaking it with a small smile. “Come on, if I were to fully do that, I’d be a general by now. The Hwarang aren’t treated much better than the city guard at this point.” 

“Still,” a somewhat nostalgic look in Seokmin’s eye, “I’m sure he’d be happy either way. The Hwarang are famous in Seorabeol and gaining even more notoriety in other cities. With the raids last month, you’ve gained even more popular support.”  

Jihoon looks humble for a second, breaking his gaze with Seokmin to look at the ground. “We’re still working on that,” he mumbles out as the other laughs at him. 

It was an odd thing to see Jihoon flustered, you’d only seen a mild variant of his embarrassment when Seungkwan would really get under his skin. But you’ve never seen his cheeks go flush before. With Seokmin’s teasing and knowledge of something that seemed to have happened years ago, it would suggest that they’ve known each other for a while. Are they good friends?  

Once you sense their conversation coming to a lull, you speak up, “Commander, this was the warrior that helped me with Kangjoon at the tea shop a while ago.” 

“I see,” Jihoon muses and turns to look at Seokmin, “Sorry for her causing trouble, well, I suppose you saw something you shouldn’t have.” 

“It’s alright,” Seokmin nods, “I was just passing by for personal reasons. I didn’t report it.” 

“Thanks for that,” the commander offers a smile of appreciation. His gaze looks to the cloudless, sunny sky for a moment, “We don’t need to talk outside like this, why don’t you come in?” 

As the two make their way inside, you set the broom that was still in your hands next to the doorway and scurry off to the kitchen. You return to them some while later holding a tray of tea and assorted goods for them. After you’d set down the tray, Jihoon told you to stay, so you take a seat a little way away from where the two are conversing.  

“You said you’re here on Crown orders? What are you here for?” Jihoon asks, his hand hovering over his steaming cup of tea. 

“I’m currently working in one of the Sodang units.” Seokmin explains. He goes on to say a few more things about his duties, but you are unfamiliar with a majority of the lingo they use, so you try to follow along to the best of your ability.  

Jihoon, glancing at you and seeing your viable confusion, says, “He’s in the Naegeumwi, entrusted with protecting King Munmu and his family.” 

“Oh wow,” you look at Seokmin, “I’m honored to meet someone with such a high ranking.” 

“Please,” it’s the same humbled tone he’d used at the tea shop, “I only acquired this position because of the connections my father has.” 

“Why would someone with his rank need to visit the Hwarang?” You question Jihoon. While the Hwarang worked under the Crown, there was no direct connection, whereas it seems as if Seokmin works quite literally with the king.  

“Are you asking why he’d know a bunch of washed-up nobles and commoners like us?” Jihoon asks, almost teasingly. You nod gently, so as to not offend him. “You see, not only is Seokmin in the Naegeumwi, but his father’s father was Lee Alcheon.” Once again noting your confusion he clarifies, “A Sangdaedeung under Queen Jindeok some years ago. He opened a prestigious school after his time in office, and now Seokmin here is the heir to it. The school I attended socialized often with the Lee school and that’s how I came to meet him.” 

“That’s right,” Seokmin nods, “When I heard that I was heading to Seorabeol I knew that I had to find Jihoon.” His eyes shine with admiration towards the aforementioned, but the commander just scoffs and rolls his eyes at him. 

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Lee,” Jihoon sighs, “And remember: Seorabeol isn’t exactly a relaxing getaway.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind… However, even if it is dangerous, it seems even a woman can join the Hwarang?” Seokmin looks at you coyly before returning his gaze to the commander. He judges both the surprised look and glare from Jihoon for a moment before raising his hand to his mouth in surprise, “Was that supposed to be a secret?” He waits a moment, seeing as there’s no answer, he continues, “It’s not difficult to tell. I mean it’s not her fault.” 

“I know,” Jihoon’s probably recalling the first he’d met you; he’d been one of the first to figure it out, “Only a fool couldn’t see.” He resigns himself into a sigh, “Her reasons for being here are somewhat complicated, so we’re having her dress as a man for now. Only a handful of men in the Hwarang know of her circumstance, so I’d prefer if you didn’t speak about it in front of anyone.”

“I understand,” the guard agrees, “would it be too much to ask the reasons for her staying here?” 

“Her father is missing, so we’re allowing her to cooperate with our investigation,” Jihoon sets his hand around the now cooled teacup, bringing it to his lips and drinking the contents slowly.  

“Her father-” Seokmin’s brow furrows, “You’re talking about Heo Jinsang?” The second the name leaves his lips, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. How was it that he knew everything? 

“How do you know his name?!” You can’t help but blurt out.  

“Wait a minute,” It seems like the commander was also shocked by the revelation that Seokmin knew who Heo Jinsang was. He sets his teacup down onto the tray with a small clatter before looking bewildered at the guard. “How do you know her father is Heo?” 

“I visited the Heo Clinic a long time ago,” Seokmin explains and then looks towards you and asks in a timid voice, “Do you not remember me?” 

It clicks for you, so that’s how he knew your name and father. You search his eyes for a moment, nothing sparking a memory of him from your childhood. “Were you a patient of my father’s?” 

“No,” Seokmin offers you somewhat of a forlorn smile at your response, “I was interested in Tang medicine when I was younger, so I went to your father’s clinic to study.”

“I see…” still trying to recall his face, you nod your head. 

“Don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of me.”  

“What?” Jihoon interrupts, “What are you talking about? You don’t have to keep coming back here.”

“Don’t be like that, Jihoon,” He laughs at the commander and glances back at you, “We’re both from Gochang, we're buddies.” Seokmin then moves to get a little closer to the commander, clearly trying to fluster the elder. Normally Jihoon was composed and tried to keep himself together, seeing him easily behave like this was somewhat amusing. It’s almost as if he was enjoying himself. 

The three of you talking must’ve drawn the attention of the captains, because as Seokmin was teasing the commander some more, they slowly began to filter in. 

“Seokmin!” Junhui says as he sees the guard, running over to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder, “I thought you’d said you’d visit sooner!”

“We thought we heard your voice somewhere, Wen thought he was hallucinating,” Mingyu notes as he greets Seokmin. 

“Junhui, Mingyu,” a smile curling onto Seokmin’s lips at Junhui relinquishes him from his grasp, “And everyone else! Long time no see.”

“Can’t believe you’re in Seorabeol too now, are you here to train?” Junhui asks.

“Don’t be stupid, Wen. I bet he’s here to protect something or someone important, right?” Soonyoung questions as he looks to the guard.

A breathy chuckle from Seokmin, “It’s… something like that.”

“If you’re in Seorabeol, then it must’ve been a good job offer.” Hansol notes, as he looks at Seokmin.

 Seokmin nods silently to affirm him while Seungkwan speaks up, “If that’s the case: be careful. Don’t be stupid and go off dying on us.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Seokmin looks to the elder, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We should go drinking to celebrate someday, hell, we could go now if you want!” Junhui shouts out, eager to get out of the headquarters for a bit. 

The rest of the captains surround Seokmin for a while, immersing themselves in conversation and banter with the guard as he, too, seems to get lost in it all. So, he really did know all of them.

“Despite him being in the Naegeumwi, and heir of his grandfather’s school…” Jihoon’s eyes hold a fond warmth as he looks onto the commotion happening in the room. “He doesn’t hold that over the heads of the ranks lower than him. No one can escape his amiable nature.” The commander then turns to you, “Whenever he visits, be sure to let him in.”

“Alright,” you nod, not bothered by that order at all. Seokmin seemed to bring a warmth to the Hwarang men that you hadn’t seen too often, it was probably good for them.  

The men spent an exorbitant amount of time regaling about memories and incidents that had happened with their friend, and before they or you knew it, evening descended upon the compound with the orange glow of the setting sun. Seokmin notes this at one point and says he has to depart back to his duties. 

“When I return to Gochang I’ll ask about Heo,” The guard notes as he steps out of the front entranceway with Jihoon. You stand a few feet away from them and listen quietly to their conversation. 

“If you want to,” Jihoon nods in agreement, “Be sure to not tell anyone about our investigation.” 

“Of course,” Seokmin nods and glances over to you as if to affirm himself, “My lips are sealed.”  

As the three of you begin to make your farewells, from around the thicket of trees and down the walkway that leads to the entrance of the headquarters, you can hear the approaching steps of a returning group of Hwarang. They’re probably returning from their evening rounds, but you’re not sure who was on patrol today.  

“You’re- You’re that bastard from the tea shop, aren’t you?!” One of them freezes in their tracks before angrily storming over to the three of you. Almost instantly you recognize the voice and face of Suh Kangjoon. He stands before Seokmin, his voice irate, “Why the hell are you here?” 

Seokmin looks at him, his voice reserved and questioning, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t think we’ve been acquainted yet.” 

“Are you trying to mock me?” Kangjoon huffs, you’re sure if it were colder outside his breath would escape him in large plumes of white. “Name yourself!” 

“I am a member of Gochang’s Sodang unit under the Naegeumwi, my name is Lee Seokmin.” The guard states stoically, no inflection to his voice in trying to sound superior or below the man in front of him.

“A Naegeumwi… Lee…” It’s almost as if Kangjoon’s trying to piece together a puzzle, “Are you from Lee Alcheon’s-?”  

“Yes. I’m here in Seorabeol on official business.” Seokmin states calmly, “As I had some free time, I’ve come to visit my friends from Kwak Hall.” 

“Don’t lie to me! You’ve come to spread malicious rumors about the last time we met!” Kangjoon barks, his chest puffing out as if to intimidate Seokmin. 

The guard doesn’t seem in the least bit phased as he responds, “I have come here to see my friends, nothing more.” Seokmin shifts his weight from foot to foot as he brings his hand up to his chin in faux ponderance, “Or… Would you rather me remind you of what occurred when I last saw you?” 

His eyes sharpen at the Hwarang, who seems to have been taken aback by the statement.  

“If you say so,” the Hwarang cedes, realizing that he was in no place to argue with the commander of his organization listening quietly in on their conversation. “We’re settled. I’ll be on my way.” His voice holds a semblance of respect as he walks away with the handful of other Hwarang he’d arrived with.  

Despite the situation escalated by Kangjoon alone, Seokmin seems rather relaxed as he watches the Hwarang storm off into the compound. You only let out a sigh of relief when Kangjoon leaves your line of sight, you weren’t aware you’d been holding your breath.   

“Jihoon,” Seokmin asks, a small frown on his lips as he turns back to the commander, “Who is that man?” 

“His name is Suh Kangjoon,” the commander’s arms cross as he lets out a sigh, knowing full well how problematic the Hwarang is. “He’s a captain from the Hanseong unit who’s come to stay with us for the time being. I’m sorry about him, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you anymore.” 

“I’ll be alright but,” Seokmin looks at you before returning his attention to Jihoon, “Keep an eye on her. I’m sure if he found out she was here it wouldn’t go over well.” 

“I’ll try to drop by again soon,” Seokmin smiles, a twinkle in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and heads towards the city. You watch him as he leaves, his tall figure becoming smaller and smaller with every step before he eventually disappears down the pathway. 

Even if he was an important person and a friend of the Hwarang, he was an enigma to you. Seokmin was assuredly high amongst the bone-ranks, maybe even higher than the Hwarang’s commander, yet upheld himself with integrity and mindfulness to everyone he came across. You’d never been made aware of a noble that was like that before, most adhering to the rigid structure of the realm.  

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s hot. Blazingly so. The city is blanketed by a heat so unknown to you that you found yourself perspiring as you awoke that morning. You’d thought you’d been sick until you walked into the main hall and saw the other captains in a similar state to yourself. There was nothing to be done about it except for staying in the shade or perhaps cooling off by a river. 

Yet, that’s not what was in store for you. Ever since your actions on the nights of the inn raids, Jihoon has been much more forgiving in his attitude, allowing you to resume your patrols with the captains. And seeing as Kim Mingyu was about to head out, you decided to tag along. 

You regret that decision almost immediately when you step onto the city’s streets, the crowds not doing anything to damper the rays of sun beaming down onto you. 

“Mingyu?” You ask as the two of you walk down the street, “The Hwarang patrol both night and day, right?” 

“They do,” he nods, wiping the sweat that had accumulated around the headband on his forehead, “Why?” 

 “Why is it that you do? Wouldn’t that be more of the city guard’s job?” You question as you pass by an armory, the heat of its fires only causing you to perspire more.  

“Because most of the city guard’s been called to the front,” his shoulders shrug, “Emperor Gaozong called them to help his forces root out Gogoryeo last month, so they’ve had a decline in their numbers… I’m not sure when they’ll be back, I heard the King was leading generals to Siigok Garrison so I can only assume it’ll be a while.” 

“So, you’ve become the city guard then?” 

“I mean, in a way,” he thinks, “We arrest thieves, people who’re looking for fights and who don’t pay for their meals. And then there are those who think they’ll just mooch off merchants...” 

It wasn’t fully the answer you’d been expecting, maybe along the lines of it. The adoption of the guard’s role was something new, but you couldn’t fault them for it if the city needed their swords. Before you’re able to continue to question him, a few men in Hwarang blues down the road seem to be trying to wave Mingyu down. Getting closer to the scene, you can make out Junhui’s figure and a few more Hwarang men.  

“Hey!” He smiles as the two of you stand before him, he looks to you before asking, “Find anything about your dad?” 

“No,” a small shake of your head, “Nothing yet.” 

“Ah, cheer up,” he says, gently hitting you on the arm as he sees your downtrodden frown, “There’s always tomorrow.” 

“You’re right,” pepping up slightly at his words. Junhui seems to be able to energize and lighten the mood whenever someone was feeling low, it was something you’d noticed over the course of getting to know him. It was almost as if his optimism was contagious. 

“Did you find anything fun, Junhui?” Mingyu questions, probably wondering if there was any more reason for Junhui flagging you down other than wanting to say hello. 

“Nothing in particular…” Junhui admits, “But, all of the people on this street are acting really busy.” 

You think he’s being a little over dramatic, but a closer observation of the pedestrians and shopkeepers has you thinking a little more critically. There was almost a nervousness, an anxiety, threading itself through the air and in their movements.  

“It looks like they’re… packing up?” You observe, eyeing one merchant in particular boxing away his things. 

“You think they’re worried about the war with Gogoryeo or the Baekje guys?” Mingyu asks Junhui, crossing his arms. 

“I thought that the Baekje threat was resolved...?” You say, looking from Mingyu to Junhui, confusion seeped into your voice. 

The taller rests his hand atop the hilt of his sword, “We didn’t tell you, did we? Those Baekje bastards have been showing up again, that’s why we’ve been having extra rounds.” 

“Even if we did weaken them at Wonweol,” Mingyu frowns, “I can’t really imagine them standing idly around when we’ve put some of their men in the ground. And now that the king’s absent… it’s a little trickier for us.” 

“Were the loyalists planning on doing something?” You ask, the way Mingyu had spoken leads you to believe something had been in the works. 

 “Not sure,” Junhui says with a shake of his head, “Other than what we found out after the raids we haven’t gotten wind of anything else.” 

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Mingyu notes, “All we’ve got to do is do our jobs. The loyalists attack Seorabeol, we drive them out. It’s as simple as that.” The Hwarang just accept the cards they’re dealt and never seem to complain. 

“If the loyalists continue their stunts then we’re probably going to get orders from the king to do something whenever he gets back,” Junhui sighs, not knowing how long the sovereign would be out of the capital. 

“What do you think he’d decree?” A tilt of your head as you ask, unknowing what more he could make the Hwarang do. 

“In the past the Hwarang have fought almost as their own regiment, he might do that.” Junhui shrugs, his hand moving from his sword and down to his side. 

“That doesn’t happen too often,” Mingyu nods almost approvingly and then turns to you with a joking smile, “You should join us.” 

You laugh at the sudden invitation, knowing full well the offer isn’t real. Seeing as the female version of the Hwarang, the Wonhwa, had been thrown away since before the Hwarang themselves were even conceptualized, it was a long shot to think that you could march along their ranks. As much as you want to help these men, you’re not sure that they’d fully accept you into their ranks. But if you could aid them like you had on the night of the raids on the two inns, you wouldn’t mind doing something like that again.  

“If you want me to go with you, I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shoot back to Mingyu, cracking a small smile at him. “If you need me to help, I’ll do whatever I can.” 

His smile deepens, the dimples on his cheeks beginning to show, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if the time comes.” 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 18𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Excuse me,” you say quietly as you make your way into the main hall, the wooden handle of the teapot in your grasp coarse on your palm. The heat of its contents rising to try and weaken your grip on the vessel. “I brought you all some more tea.” 

The Hwarang captains and men sit in various spots around the hall, you’re not sure why they’re convening, but they’d been in there for at least an hour discussing some matter at hand. 

“Thanks!” Junhui calls out and beckons you over, he takes the pot from your hands and begins to pour tea into his already halfway filled cup, “It’s almost like you’re our servant or something.” 

More so a page, but you weren’t going to correct him quite yet. You take back the pot and look around for anyone who might need a refill. Spotting Eunseok trying to catch your eye, you make your way over and fill his cup. 

“Thank you,” he says once you’re finished, quickly bringing the cup to his lips, and blowing on the warm contents.  

“It’s no problem,” you smile, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to disrupt the main conversation flowing throughout the hall. As you’re about to move away, Seungkwan swipes the pot from your grasp, pouring his own cup of tea and taking a drink of it. His face contorts for a moment and you question, “Does it not taste good?” 

“It tastes fine, I guess,” his shoulders shrug as he leans back in his seat, “It could stand to be a little warmer though, maybe you’re just taking too long to pour it.” 

“Oh,” you frown, taking the pot back from him, holding your free hand to the side of the vessel for a moment to test the warmth, “I’ll go and brew some more.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Soonyoung butts in, motioning for you to hand him the pot, “I like it lukewarm because it’s easier to drink, right, Hansol?” 

“Right,” the aforementioned captain nods, “It’s easier to drink on a hot day like this.” 

It looks as if Soonyoung’s about to speak again before Youngmin barges into the hall, a stoic expression drawn onto his face.  

“The Hwarang have received an official request from the Crown to head to Ongsan Fortress. All available men must get ready to set out at once,” Youngmin says, a sternness in his voice hinting at a notion of pride somewhere hidden away in its depths. There’s general excitement beginning to buzz among the Hwarang before he continues, “It seems as if they’ve noticed all of our hard work as of late.” It’s then he lets himself break out into a prideful smile; it was clear he was proud of the work the Hwarang had achieved in the past few weeks.  

As you scan the faces of the room, there was one in particular that has a sour expression forming as Youngmin finishes.  

“We don’t have time to celebrate,” Jihoon says, rising to his feet, “We need to get moving now, so get off of your asses and go!” The captains and other men then begin to follow his lead and stand, “Those loyalists are already in Seorabeol, we need to cut the head off of this snake before it lays any more eggs.” 

Once the men filter out and it’s only you and the captains, Jihoon speaks up, “Only when there’s somewhere else to go they tell us to haul ass?” He shakes his head, “We may not be the Guard or the Watch, but it doesn’t mean we’re any less expendable.” 

“Soonyoung and Seungkwan,” Seungcheol says after Jihoon’s done mumbling to himself, “You’ll remain here. I know it’s not what you want, but your injuries from Wonweol are still preventing you from active duty.” You glance to his hand, knowing full well that the colonel would be staying behind as well.  

“Speak for yourself,” Seungkwan frowns, clearly perturbed by the orders, “It’s not like my injuries didn’t recover. But I’m not at peak performance, even I can realize that. So, if you want me to hang back, I guess I can…” 

“That’s bullshit!” Adversely, Soonyoung points to his forehead, the cut he’d received during the raids still an angry pink where the skin had been slashed. “This is just a scratch, Kwak’s just being too careful.” 

“Are you being serious?” Mingyu scoffs at the younger, “I heard you in your room crying about how much it hurt still last night.” 

“You bastard,” Soonyoung pouts, “Don’t you want me out there with you guys?” 

“Oh, believe me, I do, Kwon.” Mingyu shakes his head, chuckling, “I just want you at your best. Not crying into your pillow because of a scratch. Even you heard him, right?” He looks to you for affirmation. 

“HEY!” Soonyoung whines, you think he’s going to clamp his hand over Mingyu’s mouth but the older moves away before he can. “Don’t ask her! And can you try to keep your mouth shut for a little while?” Soonyoung then gives you a sideways glance as if to ask if you really had heard him complaining yesterday. 

“...Your injury still hasn’t healed, Soonyoung.” You don’t explicitly admit that you heard his grumblings, even though you had. The band he normally wears with the Hwarang insignia hides the scar well, but without it, like he is now, it’s a stark reminder that he isn’t quite ready for the front lines again. 

“Hm, you said you wanted to go with us if we ever got the orders, didn’t you?” Junhui interrupts the lull in the room as he asks you a question. “Are you still up for that?” 

Even if you said that you’d join Junhui and Mingyu when you were out with them the other day, you thought you’d been joking, or half-joking at least. It would be risky if you did join them.

“I don’t see any reason why you can’t tag along,” Youngmin says with a nod of his head, “Opportunities for the Hwarang to move under Crown command alone are rare.” While he’s supposed to be the leader of the Hwarang, Kwak Youngmin was very easily swayed by his men’s words.  

“What?” Soonyoung says, almost confused as he looks from Junhui to Mingyu. “If she’s going with you, then maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for me to tag along too, right?” 

“You’re still not where you need to be,” Junhui says, nudging the other with his elbow gently, “Just stay here and heal up.” 

“Are you sure it’s okay that I go with you?” You ask, still not fully convinced they want you tagging along with them. 

The captain and colonel sigh at your reservations.  

“We can’t promise that you won’t get injured, or worse.” Jihoon says, a distressed glint in his eyes as he speaks to you, “I think you should stay here.”  

“Staying here would be an undue burden on the rest of us that stay,” Seungcheol argues back, “We’re not here to be a source of entertainment for you.” 

“Seungcheol…” Hansol speaks up, “So, as long as she’s not being burdensome, she’s free to go with us?” 

Is he standing up for you? It seems to be the case as Seungcheol looks at him in surprise, his eyes widening at the captain.  

“You’re really in favor of taking her along with you?” The colonel asks, his brow furrowing as he tries to understand the rationale.  

“She was an asset to us as Wonweol,” Hansol’s shoulders shrug, “Taking that into consideration, I hardly believe that she can be considered a ‘burden’, when recalling that.” 

“Great!” Youngmin exclaims, relinquishing the two from their conversation as his hands clap together. “I’ll take full responsibility for your inclusion, that is, if you want to go with us.” 

“Do whatever you want to do,” almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Seungkwan speaks up. The two of you make eye contact, and a smaller version of the smirk he almost always has plastered on his face curls to his lips. “Just as long as you know that this is a battle you’re going to, not a party.” 

Maybe you’d be able to help them out as you had on the night of the raids. It was a strong maybe, but you couldn’t let that hinder your decision making, could you?  

“I’d like to participate,” you find the words falling from your lips before you have the thought of saying them in the first place. Perhaps it was your subconscious speaking for what you truly want.  

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 24, 661 - 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔞𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 (𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔞𝔢𝔨𝔧𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡) Entering the territory of the former kingdom is more eye opening to you than you had ever thought it would be. Rather than the calmness that had been exemplified by the King’s announcements back in Silla, there is an anxious tension wrought in the villages and towns as the Hwarang sweep through. Even though they were only passing by the inhabitants would warily gaze upon you, the captains, and the rest of the men as if to gauge how hostile their new countrymen would be. 

The main goal is to reach Ongsan, a former Baekje fortress that stands on the border between the two Kingdoms. It seems as if the same group of loyalists from Seorabeol had taken over the now-emptied armament and claimed it as their headquarters. The Crown assigned the Hwarang the mission of expelling them, in a way of their gratitude for their performance on the night of the Wonweol and Jeolin Inn raids. 

Judging from what the captains were saying this morning, it seems as if you’re not too far from your destination. You don’t know the layout of this land, the towns unfamiliar and the faces just as so. 

For the most part, the men have been silent, only the odd gripe from one of the Hwarang. The absence of both Seungkwan and Soonyoung are notable, their voices seeming to fill in large gaps of silence when in attendance. It’s not until your troupe stops in front of a walled gate, presumably leading into a city, that Youngmin speaks up. Before the group stands a few other soldiers, from Silla by the looks of their armor.  

“My name is Kwak Youngmin, leader of the Seorabeol Hwarang. I am here on orders from Kim Seokmin, an army general under His Majesty King Munmu.” He stands before an officer of the troupe that was already there. 

Kim Seokmin is one of the most influential members of the Crown’s court. The father of Kim Mingyu and former Hwarang himself, he acquired favor from the kingship due to his efforts in a handful of Baekje rebellions in the decades prior.  

The officer looks confused, his brow furrowing, “You were told to report here? Did you not meet with the men from Unghyeon?” 

“Unghyeon?” You mouth the word in the same confusion the officer was expressing. It’s a Silla fortress some distance away from where you all stand now, it hadn’t been brought up in any conversation the Hwarang had had on their trek. 

“Several generals and their troops were sent there to convene before the attack,” Hansol leans over to you and whispers, “If we were meant to meet with them, it’s most likely the message to tell us to do so was intercepted.”  

“Does that mean they know we’re coming?” You ask quietly, looking around to the other captains to try and gauge what they’re thinking.  

“It’s likely they’ve put the pieces together,” Hansol nods solemnly, “But I can’t imagine they have the numbers to rival both us and the other group.” 

“This could still get messy, though,” you sigh, hoping the break in communication wouldn’t be but so impactful to the mission. 

“Regardless of that, our aid has been formally requested,” Youngmin stands firm as he speaks to the officer, “If you could relay this to your commandi-”  

 “If that’s the case then I suggest you try and convene with the King’s garrison,” the officer states as he cuts off Youngmin, “We can’t let you in here because we have no idea what’s waiting on the other side.” 

“Our orders say to stay stationed here,” Youngmin frowns, clearly frustrated with the lack of cooperation. 

“There’s nothing we can do about this, Chief,” Hansol speaks up, stepping over to Youngmin. “If they won’t allow us access here, maybe it would be in our best interest to try and find the others.” It looks as if Hansol was going to suggest something else before Kangjoon interrupts. 

“Find the others?” He shakes his head almost angrily, “Kim’s orders were to stay stationed here until we were signaled to enter the city. Why would we ignore a military command when we haven’t received anything to tell us to do otherwise? I think we should remain here on standby.” 

“If this was a camp that we were stationed at, that might make sense, Suh.” Hansol states with a frown, “But this is, or very soon will be, the front lines of a battle.” 

“Are you really trying to go against me?” Kangjoon nearly snarls back, the mere thought of someone going against his wishes enraging him, “Don’t forget that I’m the Hwarang’s War Counselor.” 

“And I’m the leader,” Youngmin interjects, “Hansol’s made a good point. We’ll look for the other group’s camp and hopefully get a better understanding of the strategy at play.” 

And with his words, the Hwarang begin to walk along the narrow pathway surrounding the fortress in search of the other group of generals and soldiers that are on their way from Unghyeon. Your group eventually finds the ally camp to the eastern front of the fortress, wooden spikes that had been hastily made surrounding it. A few soldiers come out to greet a few members of the Hwarang as you enter, they might be friends or family members who haven't seen each other in quite some time. 

Almost as soon as you’d entered the camp, Youngmin is ushered into one of the tents to speak with a few generals. You’re not sure who’s in there, but with the pallid complexion of the Hwarang’s leader upon his exit, you can assume it had been higher ranks than he’d been expecting.  

The orders are now to travel to the Southern Gate, the opposite end of where your original orders had been to go with a general and his troops.  

“If these guys say anything, and I don’t think they will, just let me know, okay?” Junhui says as everyone begins to leave the encampment. “Park Kimsu’s not a friendly face around here.” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, not noticing Mingyu saddling up beside you. 

“What he means is, his father’s an enemy of my father,” Mingyu says, a gruffness to his voice as if he’s recalling something. “His father’s probably the one that sent the Watch out the night of the raids to try and take credit for what we did.”  

“That and he’s a major prick,” Junhui adds, “I can’t imagine his men are much better.” 

“Come on you guys,” Youngmin says as he slows his pace in front of you three, falling in line to your steps. “We can’t talk about them like that,” he contradicts his words by letting slip a sly smile for a few seconds before straightening his face and resuming his position at the front of the line.  

By the time you all arrived and set up your small camp, night had fallen quickly, plunging the surrounding area into an inky black, save for the lights several fires dotted around the site provided. Youngmin, Jihoon and the captains had gone off to speak with Park Kimsu and his officers, leaving you and the rest of the Hwarang to sit around camp with little else to do.  

They return what feels like hours later, their shoulders sagging and eyes looking tired as if they'd just run for that time instead of sitting in on a meeting. Eunseok, who had accompanied them, walks over to you with a small and lethargic smile.  

“For the most part they’re being cooperative,” he sighs, “The only reason Kimsu was paired with us is because his father asked for it, though.” 

“Why would he do that?” You ask a tilt of your head. Earlier, Mingyu has said that his and Kimsu’s families were something along the lines of enemies.  

“I don’t know,” Eunseok shakes his head, “Maybe to rile us up? Regardless of that though, we’re here to watch over the gate and make sure no one escapes.” 

“Regardless of that, they’re treating us like reserve troops,” Junhui’s voice is strained as he walks over, his arms high over his head as he stretches. Once he drops his arms down, he speaks up, “They’ve left smaller reserves around the South entrance because the biggest fight is going to happen at the North Gate.” He sounds a little disappointed, as if he were anticipating a big battle.  

“We don’t know what they’ll do exactly,” Hansol says as he trails after him, “We may very well see battle.” 

But that means waiting and seeing as the sun isn’t to rise for a long time, that means waiting overnight. As the crowds disperse and settle into their tents, you find that the Hwarang, at least, are sleeping in shifts so that if the call to arms were to come at night, there would be someone to rouse everyone else.  

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you need to,” Mingyu says as the two of you sit down to keep watch, the flames in front of you seem like they’re trying to lull you to sleep. 

“I’m alright,” trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you shake your head. You’d feel wrong trying to sleep when you know these men could get called to face death at any moment.  

A nervous anxiousness coils around your stomach until you find yourself falling asleep later in the night, not awaking until the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon. When you sit up from the laid down position you’d slept in, you notice that the men had kept a silent vigil all through the night. Even as you were drifting in and out of consciousness, you noted that there were men posted around the camp, looking for anything or anyone suspicious.  

A little while later a large boom reverberates through the surrounding forest. You first think it’s a crack of lightning, or maybe the subsequent boom of thunder that succeeds it, but the sky is clear today, not a cloud in sight. It had echoed like thunder, startling the birds in the nearby trees, and causing more people than just you to jump in shock.

“What was that?” You question Hansol as he walks past you, seeming to look for someone coming in from outside of the camp. 

“It looks like the main army is beginning to siege the fortress,” He says, his eyes narrowing as scans the tree-line. The soldiers and Hwarang within the camp are moving by now,  

“Let’s get a move on!” Jihoon shouts out from somewhere deeper in the camp, his voice nearing as he continues to speak, “They’re not going to pause the fight until we get there, so get moving!” 

“We were told to stay here,” Park Kimsu says as he emerges from his tent, probably stirred from the commotion outside. The general watches the scramble of men in the camp race for their weapons and armor for a moment before he turns to Jihoon, “You don’t command my men.” 

“Our job is to siege the fortress, not sit on our asses and wait for this to pass by,” The commander bites back, he was almost yelling at the general. “We’re here to root out these loyalists, that won’t happen if we just stay here!”  

“We haven’t even received orders to push!” Kimsu quips, his brow furrowing at the Hwarang.  

“If you have any pride in your position, forget the damn orders and move your men,” Jihoon huffs, straightening the band around his forehead, “They aren’t going to willingly surrender.” The commander and general stare harshly at one another for a moment, almost as if they’re testing each other in a battle of wills. Jihoon, seeing as it was useless to try to neg the other any further, spins on his heels and begins to stalk off. 

“Where are we going?” You whisper to Hansol as Jihoon passes by, muttering something to himself.

“To face the enemy head on,” He says quietly, “Which, in our case, means the Southern Gate. The main fight is meant to happen at the Northern Gate so I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to divide our numbers to get more support up there.” 

“I see,” You nod, the same nervousness invading your veins once again, it was now riddled with an adrenaline that was probably the only thing making you think clearly. 

Jihoon’s rage at the general seems to have roused the reserve troops, who now, instead of loitering around the camp, seem to be mostly readied up. Led by both Park Kimsu and Lee Jihoon, the army and the Hwarang march their way to the Southern Gate. 

It was only a short trek to the destination, but the remains of skirmishes that seemed to have happened moments prior litter the ground. Soldiers, dead and dying, lay on the ground, chunks of wood from the gate lay in reddened splinters as arrows, both broken and intact, lay riddled where fragments of the gate’s doors once stood. The group that had come before you seems to have successfully made it into the city, but not without losses of their own. You can see both Baekje and Silla armor on the bodies of the fallen soldiers.  

Even if you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you might see, the reality of it all still shatters your heart. 

Though the Baekje and Silla forces were nowhere to be seen, had your allies driven them further into the fortress? After a quick moment of assessment, Jihoon orders a few captains to investigate what happened, Youngmin sighing as he does so. 

“Had we known a group of Silla warriors were coming in beforehand we would’ve joined them and lost fewer lives.” He frowns as he looks over the scene, looking up once he sees Hansol returning from his survey of the area.  

“It looks like our forces attacked the gate earlier this morning, were repelled briefly before the flank on the Northern Gate began,” the captain recounts, looking to Jihoon, “After their forces were divided the army at the Southern Gate was able to advance into the fortress.” 

“Do you have any word on what’s happening at the Northern Gate?” Jihoon questions, obviously beginning to silently plan a course of action.  

“They’re still fighting,” Hansol nods, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if he can tell what Jihoon’s thinking, “The King’s garrison has yet to advance into Ongsan.” 

“Lee!” Mingyu shouts out as he returns from his own survey of the area, running from the direction of the pass to reach the stronghold. “There’s supposedly Baekje reinforcements coming from the west as well, not many, but enough to make a dent in our numbers if we let them.” 

Jihoon’s expression of confidence wavers momentarily as he listens to Kim as he approaches, but before he can comment on it, Chan also races over to the group of captains from surveying inside of the fortress.  

“Commander,” he starts off, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, glinting in the daylight now hanging overhead, “It’s believed that the men who led this are heading for the heart of the fortress to try and kill the loyalists trying to run for it.” 

The commander thinks after listening to the cumulative reports, contemplating as to what the next move should be. Although Youngmin is the recognized formal leader of the Hwarang, you’d come to learn the most major decisions were given to Jihoon to make. This was no exception, the crowd of captains anticipating his orders while Kimsu was speaking with his own men of what to do next.  

“It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Jihoon’s lips curve into a small smile after a moment of silence. “Kim, take your men to the pass to deal with any incoming loyalists. Lee, Choi,” he turns to Chan and Hansol, “follow the men into the fortress, but make sure to keep an ear out if Kim needs any reinforcements at the pass.” 

There’s nods and affirmations from the captains and officer before the commander turns to Youngmin, “I’m sorry for giving you the hardest one, Chief. Can you speak with the higher ups back at the main camp about a punitive measure for the group that got here before us? As far as both Kimsu and I were aware they weren’t supposed to do that, and I’ll bet they’re doing more in there than just routing out the loyalists. If we’re to do anything about that then we’ll need the higher ups permission.” 

While an independently run body from the Crown’s army or guard, the Hwarang still need permission to act under that guise of pseudo-Crown rule and dole out their justice. 

“I’m sure I can do something about it, and if not me, my father,” Youngmin nods, a smile forming as he thinks it over. You’re not sure who Youngmin’s father is, but if his son is the leader of the Hwarang, his position in the Crown’s council must be higher than anyone else’s father in the organization. It would still be tricky to gain that permission with all of the Hwarang naysayers and adversaries within the council.  

“Eunseok, can you go with him?” Jihoon asks and turns to their youngest member, “Someone has to keep an eye on him.” 

“Of course,” He nods, “I’ll do my best.”  

Jihoon smiles wryly at him before turning to the remaining Hwarang. “The rest of you are following me into the fortress and to the Northern Gate. As for you,” he looks directly at you, “You can’t go with Youngmin, but other than that it’s up to you.”

You know he doesn’t know where to place you. It’s not as if you’re one of the Hwarang he could command to a role and set you there. Maybe having you decide your own fate was a way to take the burden off his shoulders.  

“I’ll go with you, then,” You say after a moment of contemplation. Along with Jihoon, a group of Hwarang, and a group of regular soldiers, you’ll race into Ongsan and try to open the Northern Gate for the King’s garrison to make way into the fortress by suppressing the loyalists inside.  

The groups disperse shortly after, Mingyu and his men heading to the pass, Youngmin and Eunseok leaving for the main camp, Chan and Hansol leaving for the heart of the fortress, and then Jihoon and you making way to the Northern Gate from inside the fortress itself.  

Jihoon, you and the group of soldiers accompanying you race through the fortress. Seeing it from the outside had hidden how expansive it is on the inside, large courtyards and twisting hallways have your mind running in circles as you slowly run out of breath. You come upon another seemingly empty courtyard before stopping in your tracks. There was someone standing in the middle of it, someone wearing neither Silla nor Baekje armor. In fact, they are dressed more like a noble than a fighter. 

The sun is shining so harshly onto the courtyard as you approach that it’s hard to get a good look at his face. It’s obscured in the sunlight and the light yellow of his robes and the glinting silver of a blade in his hand is doing little to help that. There’s a strange aura surrounding him, almost as if he's waiting for something to happen. 

Jihoon, perceptive to that, motions for everyone to stop before encroaching on the character. The Hwarang stop in their tracks, save for one man too eager or arrogant to follow the commander’s orders and charges towards the figure with his sword out. The stranger seems to have only waved his arm once before the Hwarang falls to the ground, the dull sound of his body hitting the stone below echoing around the courtyard, the clangor of battle raging in the distance.  

“What the hell?!” Junhui shouts out, shoving his way through the throng of Hwarang and over to the fallen man. The man’s unresponsive, a thick pool of blood beginning to stain the ground under him. The rest of the men, first taken aback by the stranger, now glare at him for the loss of their comrade.

“You’re Hwarang, aren’t you?” The stranger speaks up, his blade tapping against the agate stone of the walkway, “I can tell because of those blue robes of yours.” He sighs out, “A bunch of pretty nobles playing soldier, aren’t you all old enough to know to stop playing pretend?” 

The man’s words are enough to make the already on-edge men agitated. Egged on by the harsh ridicule of someone they’d only just come upon. Each Hwarang, either noble or not, had their reason for joining. Taking their choice into question was cruel and that was clearly painted on their faces now.  

“First, you ruin my plans at Wonweol and now you’re trying to play hero,” They snicker, “You’re not even real soldiers, are you?” His gaze travels down to the fallen Hwarang momentarily before lazily and almost arrogantly meeting Jihoon’s eyes, “I’d turn back if I were you, unless you want to end up like your friend here.” 

“You’re the swordsman who beat Seungkwan at Wonweol?” Jihoon asks, the tension in the air thick and palpable as he speaks. “I heard you were quite good, but these are pretty big words coming from such a small man.” The smile on the commander’s face is anything but amicable.  

“And I heard that you all were talented, for what you are, but this sorry display is telling me otherwise.” The now adversary snickers, once again glancing at the dying, or maybe he was already dead, Hwarang. “The man I fought at the inn, his name is Seungkwan? It’s a bit of a stretch to call him a real swordsman.” 

You know from watching the men train that Seungkwan is skilled with a sword, but he had been injured by this man. Is his prowess with a blade more prolific than the Hwarang captain’s? 

“Insult Boo all you want,” Junhui stands from the body of the crumpled soldier to face the stranger, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip. “But why did you kill this man?” The hiss of the steel leaving the sheath cries out as he tears it from the scabbard, the captain’s teeth baring. “If I don’t like your answer then I won’t hesitate to tear you down right here.” 

“How prideful,” you can almost hear him roll his eyes, “The king says for you to ‘Jump’ and you say, ‘How high?’. Why are you chasing after men who’ve deserted their own movement? Or are you trying to let your own men in at the Northern Gate? Either way, your combatants are going to kill themselves before they’ll let you take this place by full force.” 

You glance at Jihoon and the men around him, not even one looking as if the other’s words were outlandish. It seems as if the man in front of you had stopped your assault on the fortress to spare the pride of the Baekje loyalists. From the stranger’s point of view, you can understand what he was doing and why he feels right about it. But that gave him no right to slay one of the Hwarang.  

“Is taking someone’s life for the sake of another’s pride just?” You speak up, distraught from this situation entirely, “The only one who can save your pride is you, not letting that responsibility fall into someone else’s hands.”  

A grin splits onto the other’s face, “There’s some truth in that, I suppose. Are you saying that I should let the Hwarang demolish any pride these men have just to simply gain favor with the Crown?” Despite the curvature of his lips, his voice is not amused. 

“That’s not what I…” The reddish-brown tint of his eyes scrutinizes you as you try to justify yourself, quickly falling away with the harshness of his demeanor.  

“Here I was, thinking you were trying to say something intelligent,” Jihoon steps in once your voice trails off, “but you’re just acting like a child. This is war, not a council meeting debating ethics!” 

“What did you just say?” Knuckles turning white with the newfound grip on his blade, the stranger questions accusingly at Jihoon.  

“The loyalists started a fight knowing their kingdom had been defeated already, and now they’re running away in shame because they’re too cowardly to face the consequence of their actions,” Jihoon argues, a heated tone to his words, “They don’t deserve honor! They’re traitors to their new kingdom by trying to incite a rebellion, you think that deserves an honorable death?”

 “Then you mean that they should’ve been prepared to die for their cause when they started this battle?”

“Anyone who starts a fight for a cause they aren’t willing to die for doesn’t know what it means to be a warrior.” Jihoon states, his hand hovering over the hilt of his own sword. “If they have an ounce of pride left in them, wouldn’t dying by your enemy’s hand while trying to stop them be better than falling onto your own sword?”  

Jihoon’s own conception of honor and pride aren’t something he can compromise easily, having been ingrained into him at an early age. But even then, you can tell that even if he and the stranger spoke for hours, they would never understand each other’s points of view. The commander finally draws his weapon, Junhui dropping into a fighting stance when he does so. Before either of the two do anything, Jihoon whispers something hastily under his breath that causes Junhui to relent his stance, sheath his weapon, and step back into the group of Hwarang.  

“You don’t seem like a coward,” Jihoon states, “So are you ready to accept the consequences of what happens when you kill one of my men?” 

“Those are some big words,” The stranger says as he raises his sword from his lax position, the gore from the fallen Hwarang still clinging to the blade, “Do you really think you can defeat me?” 

The answer isn’t verbal, but a ringing sound as their blades meet. They step back from one another, Jihoon’s grip tightening on his sword as he glares at the other. Now, the commander’s skill seems unrivaled but the thought that this stranger had beaten Seungkwan, the Hwarang’s best swordsman, lingers in the back of your mind as you watch.  

Next to you, you can see Junhui reaching for his own sword. If he were to leap into the fight, it would most certainly help Jihoon gain the upper hand. 

“You can’t,” you say and reach out, your hand falling onto his forearm before he turns to look at you. Meeting and fighting with this stranger aren’t why you and the Hwarang are here. The mission is to aid the forces at the Northern Gate. It isn’t any question whether this man was an enemy, a dangerous one, at that.  

Even if Jihoon can’t defeat him, he would never let the Hwarang abandon their mission, especially after his speech. 

Junhui turns away from you and watches the two men clash for a moment more, gritting his teeth and finally pulling his hand away from his sword. “Lee, I’m going to take your men for a second if that’s okay with you!”  

“Just go already, loudmouth!” Jihoon says as he once again falls away from the stranger, “They’re all yours!” 

“Alright!” Junhui calls out and turns to the men, “We’re heading for the Northern Gate, run straight there and don’t stop until those Baekje bastards have been put in their place!” 

The soldiers roar with a renewed vigor and begin to follow the captain. 

The stranger huffs something out as he watches the men run off, his hand clenching his sword as if he’s about to follow them. 

“You’re not fighting them, so pay attention,” Jihoon calls out to pull the stranger’s focus back to him. “If you don’t, I’ll cut you down from behind instead.” 

“Don’t get in my way!” The stranger shouts, bringing his sword down to meet Jihoon’s, the swing causing Jihoon to reel back once receiving it. 

Now that there was more of a distance between the two, the stranger’s gaze once again travels to Junhui and the running Hwarang. You think for a moment to stop running with the men and try to stand your ground with Jihoon, but relent after a moment, continuing to go further on with the rest of the troops.  

“Keep running!” Jihoon calls out, closing the distance between himself and the stranger, positioning his sword upwards once more.  

“You don’t even know your limit,” The stranger scoffs. 

You stop for a moment, finding yourself unable to keep up with the men. Looking back to the fray, you part your lips and shout out, “We’ll see you at the Northern Gates!” Leaving Jihoon without a word felt… wrong, so you yell out the not-so-subtle words of encouragement as you depart once more. “Come back to us in one piece!” 

Jihoon almost laughs at this, devolving it into a small chuckle as his gaze narrows at his adversary. “Who do you think I am?” A cocksureness riding along his words as you run past, only hoping that he would survive the encounter. 

By the time you and the rest of the Hwarang make it to the Northern Gates, it seems as if the King’s garrison has broken through already. There’re skirmishes happening all around the entrance but are soon quelled by the introduction of the Hwarang into the fight. Jihoon hadn’t arrived as the battles wane to a close and the sun begins to sink down into the sky. Several higher ups order a few of the captains to look for any remaining loyalists in the compound, leaving you to stand and wait for a sign of the commander or a returning captain. 

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” a voice says to your right. You’re met with the face of Officer Jeon, or Wonwoo as you’ve come to learn. Like Chan, he acts as a spy for the Hwarang but typically deals with Yamato forces, but he had accompanied the men to Ongsan this time, only showing how much more this mission meant to the Hwarang. “I know they will.” 

You can only nod your head in response and scan the area, looking for one of the faces you hope on seeing return. Every passing moment feels like an eternity, slowly inching by as the sun sinks lower and lower into the sky.  

It’s dusk when you see a figure emerge from the depths of the fortress, the darkening sky obscuring most of their features, but as they near the now lit courtyard you stand in, you can see that it’s a familiar face.

“Commander!” You shout out and race over to him, relief flooding your system. 

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Wonwoo says, following closely behind you as you stop in front of Jihoon. “It doesn't even look like you’ve been hurt.” 

In the light of the fires, you can see that the Hwarang hadn’t been injured, but he wears a dark expression over his face. 

“I hoped we would have a real fight, but it looks like it was over almost as soon as you all arrived,” he frowns, “held up by a Hwarang opposer, no less.” 

“Who was he?” Wonwoo asks, tilting his head slightly. 

“His name is Hong Jisoo. I don’t know if his father’s a part of the council or if he’s just a lackey under one of them, but he’s clearly very anti-us.” 

“But if he’s still working under Silla rule, why did he try to stop us from going after Baekje?” You question, confused by the swordsman’s actions, weren’t both sides there to stop the loyalists? Something about this isn’t settling right with you. “Does that mean he was betraying Silla?” 

“I don’t know about that, but I do think he was trying to stop us from getting here,” Jihoon sighs out, closing his eyes as if to recall the situation, “The soldiers who broke us up were also confused by whatever game he was trying to play. But they didn’t try to command him to do anything after we’d stopped fighting, so he must mean something to them.” 

“He must have some notoriety in their ranks, then,” Wonwoo muses. 

“He’s a lazy piece of shit who uses his rank or his money to do whatever he wants, more like,” Jihoon says with a bitter edge to his voice. “If he flaunts that around he has no right to try and teach me what his definition of pride is.” 

Before Jihoon can ramble and rant about Jisoo, Junhui and the detachment of men he’d left with returns to the battle site. Junhui stops for a moment upon seeing the commander before breaking out into a large grin. The smile doesn’t last long though as he approaches, the curvature of his grin turning downwards. 

“We found a few runaways, but they were already dying or dead by the time we got there.” At Junhui’s words you feel your heart drop. It’s not that you were sad that the loyalists were dead or that the Hwarang hadn’t been able to capture any one of them, only that more lives had been lost in the conflict.  

“Honorable suicide, then?” Jihoon nods, not sounding angry at the result. “Good for them.” 

“Good?” You ask without thinking, how is that ‘good’? Only hours prior the commander was trying to stop the loyalists from succeeding in that mission, but now that it’s been done he’s lauding them. 

“You don’t understand,” the commander says and looks towards you. “As Hwarang, this isn’t good for us. We failed and let them kill themselves. They’re dead, what good would it be for me to ignore what they’ve done? It doesn’t matter if they’re an enemy or my friend, a man who dies with his honor intact deserves at least some respect.” 

“I guess that makes some sense…” You mutter, not fully understanding the reasoning or what he was trying to convey.  

His expression softens slightly, “The longer you stay with us, the more you’re likely to understand our mindset.” 

Now that this group has come back together, you make your way to the campsite to meet with the rest of the Hwarang you’d parted ways with that morning.  

The event of the loyalist takeover of Ongsan and their eventual expulsion from the fortress comes to be known as the Ongsan Rebellion to the citizens of Silla. And while the Hwarang had been called to action, their efforts were stymied with unforeseen circumstances and were able to find little in the way of gaining major approval with the Crown. Communication with the King’s garrison and the army alongside him had been poor and much of the Hwarang’s time had been spent waiting for battle with the rest of the reserve troops. 

And even when they were called to arms, the Hwarang found a strange opponent at every turn:  

Hong Jisoo, who had defeated Seungkwan at Wonweol, had claimed to be a member of the pro-Watch camp of the council during his encounter with Jihoon. It still isn’t determined who his family is and why his stance is so firmly against the Hwarang. 

Hwan Minhyun, the man who had injured Soonyoung at Wonweol was also in attendance at the battle. While little more is known about him, he had claimed to be in allegiance with Hong Jisoo. 

And then there was Xu Minghao, who also fought along with the prior two men with little mention of his full allegiance.  

Whoever these men are, it’s clear to see that they’re no allies of the Hwarang. In fact, it seems as if they’re set to become one of their greatest enemies.  

The battle claimed the lives of thousands of men, the king ordering his garrison to behead any survivors they found. Even then, some Baekje loyalists were able to escape westward, further into the territory that used to be their homeland. With the end of the Ongsan Rebellion, the king passes an edict labelling any man that fought alongside the Baekje loyalists to be branded a traitor in the eyes of the Crown and an enemy of the court. 

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 8𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 With the events of the raid on Wonweol Inn and the Ongsan Rebellion taking place within only a few short weeks of one another, it was causing a certain unrest to take hold within citizens of Silla. The Hwarang are doing their best to double up on their work to make citizens feel protected, but with the return of most of the Guard and Watch, it’s difficult for them to receive missions as big as the raids and rebellion had been. And even if they are assigned a task, the Crown overworks them, seemingly wanting to bleed them dry.  

The Crown’s approval of any of their missions spreads them thin, even with the newer recruits they’d received from Podang and Gochang, it isn’t enough to keep an appropriate amount of people to instill peace. After many long and arduous meetings, it’s decided that Soonyoung, to slowly introduce him back into his role after his injury, will travel to Hanseong, one of Silla’s northernmost cities, to do preliminary scouting for future recruits.  

The burning sun hits your face as Youngmin and you see Soonyoung off, a bag slung around his shoulder having been packed the night prior.  

“I’ll be on my way now,” The Hwarang nods at the two of you, “Make sure no one gets in trouble while I’m away!” 

“I’ll try my best,” you smile at him. His presence would be missed at the headquarters, even if the other men didn’t want to acknowledge it.  

“Find us a solid list of men, it doesn’t matter if they’re nobles or not,” Youngmin notes, putting his hand under his chin for a moment. “But seeing as it’s Gochang, you might encounter more nobles there than usual. I’ll join you there next month to see who you’ve recruited.” 

“Isn’t there someone who you’re looking for?” You turn to Youngmin, “I remember you mentioning someone once.” 

“Oh, did we not tell you?” Youngmin sounds a tad miffed, “His name is Kim Gongmyung. Classically trained and the rumor is that he’s very well versed in strategy.”  

“To be honest, I haven’t met him but only once or twice,” Soonyoung relents, “But at the least I’m sure he’ll let me speak to him.” 

“That’s all we need,” Youngmin nods with a small smile, “His father’s on our side in the king’s council, and if we approach him kindly, I’m sure it’ll be within his interest to help us.” The leader seems confident just by his facial expression, but there’s an air of unsureness coming from the Hwarang.  

“Alright, I’m going!” He lets that discontentment fall from his features seconds later, nodding his head before speaking. Soonyoung then turns to you, “I’ll do my best to find any information on Heo while I’m there, so just hang on until I get back!” 

“Be careful!” You call out to him as he turns on his heels, bounding out from the main hall and towards the exit. As you watch him leave, and the smaller he seems to get the further he is from you and Youngmin, the melancholier you feel. Youngmin looks different though, a small smile residing on his face as he watches the Hwarang set out. “You look excited, are you thinking of all the new members you’re getting?” 

“Of course, seeing out numbers increase is great. Even more so if they’re strong and able,” He says as Soonyoung finally disappears outside of the main entrance.  

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 27𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Time passes quickly after Soonyoung’s departure. So fast that the date of Youngmin’s departure for Hanseong arrives with little resistance. The morning before he’s meant to depart, you find him standing in one of the compound’s courtyards, quietly watching the wind pass through the leaves overhead. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask as you approach him quietly, not wanting to startle him. 

“Hm, oh, hello,” he looks at you with a small smile, “I’m alright, are you doing okay?”

 “I am,” you nod, “I’m just thinking about how you’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“I see,” he says with a short chuckle, “I can’t leave Soonyoung alone for too long, can I? Who knows what sort of trouble he’s already found himself in?” 

“I’m sure your absence here is going to affect the men like Soonyoung’s is,” you sigh out, already knowing the feeling of having such a pivotal character of the captains gone for nearly a month now. Youngmin is the Hwarang’s leader. If anything, this will be a larger blow than Soonyoung’s departure. 

“It’s only a month,” he tries to reassure you, “I’ve been gone for longer before. And besides, Jihoon will make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m away.” Youngmin probably isn’t aware that his kindness and Soonyoung’s strange but bright personality were things that kept you mentally intact day after day here. With both absent from the headquarters, you’re not sure what kind of emotional blow it’ll have on you.

Your discontentment with the situation must have placated itself on your face because Youngmin looks at you now with a sad, small smile.  

“Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?” He questions in hopes that it might make you feel better, “I’m going to stop in Toehwa-hyeon on my way back, did you want a memento from your hometown?” 

“Oh no,” you shake your head, grateful for his offer, “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Are you sure?” Youngmin pushes a little more, “If there’s anything I can do for you, and as long as it’s within my power, I will.” You don’t want to ask any more of him, he’s so accommodating already that you’d just feel wrong in asking him to bring you something. 

“There is one thing…” You pause for a moment, “Could you train me?” 

“Are you-?” Youngmin’s brow furrows as he thinks of your statement, “Are you talking about fighting?” 

“I am,” you nod quickly. 

“Oh no… I think that would be a bad idea,” he sounds cautious, tentative, “I get really aggressive when I teach, if I ended up injuring you, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.” 

“I see…” You probably sound defeated, your shoulders shrugging downwards at his words.  

“But that statement came out of nowhere… Did you have a reason for asking?”

“If I’m going to help watch over Shoshin while you’re gone, I want to be able to instead of hiding while everyone else puts in the effort.” 

Youngmin chuckles nervously at that sentiment, “But you’re not one of the warriors, so I doubt you’d ever have to raise your sword to an enemy.” 

“You’re right, but I still want to be able to protect myself if something were to happen,” you insist gently, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. 

Youngmin mulls it over for a moment before perking up into a smile, “Well, if that’s the case, I’d love to teach you a few things.” 

The leader runs around for a moment, returning to you with a pair of practice swords and two cords so you can tie up your sleeves without getting hindered by them. Rather than use the traditional wooden practice swords of the Hwarang, Youngmin’s opted for the lighter bamboo variant as to not accidentally injure you with the splintery cousin.  

“Let’s start,” he says as he stands beside you, his own bamboo sword raised outwards. “I’ll warn you though, the style we teach at the Kwak school and the Hwarang are a little… arduous.” 

“I’m ready,” you state firmly and raise your own bamboo sword out to the open space in front of you. 

“Then let’s begin with your stance,” he says, looking towards your feet with a scrutinizing gaze, “You mentioned you’d trained before, right?” 

“It was mostly for self-defense, but I was taught how to use the blade I have with me,” you say as you look down to your feet, trying to position them correctly.  

“Then I won’t have to worry about teaching you a new form,” he notes, “Just get into the stance you’re most comfortable with.”

With the smooth grip of the practice sword in hand, you fall back into the stance you have memorized from all your practice sessions. Your hold on the hilt of the weapon tightens as you await instruction. 

“Too weak!” Youngmin shouts out, different from the calm tone his voice typically carries. “If someone’s coming from your front to attack you, the first thing they’ll reach is your sword and your arm. Tighten your grip more or they’ll knock the sword right out of your hand, be wary of that.”

“Okay!” You nod and try to hold onto the sword even tighter, the knuckles on your hand beginning to ache with the strain. It was somewhat endearing to know that he isn’t treating you any differently because you’re a girl.

“Now you’re holding on too tight,” he notices the tremble from the overworked muscles of your hand, watching the fake blade quiver in the air. “Because you’ll be a bit weaker than most you’ll ever fight against, you should try your best to avoid someone attacking you from the front. To do that you’ll need to dodge or redirect the blow from their sword, but since you’re holding onto it so tightly…” 

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Youngmin had begun his instruction, but the sun is hanging low in the sky now as you try and retain everything, he’s been teaching you.

“It’s getting late.” He muses after you finish swinging the sword for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s cause enough for you to look up at the reds, oranges and purples that are beginning to saturate the sky. And almost as if you’re pulled from your training, fatigue sets into your bones and causes you to collapse to your knees. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, clothes dampened with sweat, your breath hollow as you try to suck in more air than your lungs allow you. 

Youngmin looks over to you as you collapse, his stern expression from training you softening to one of concern. “I’m sorry!” He says, a panicked tone overtaking him, “I got so into it that I pushed you way too hard!” 

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, offering him a weak smile, “You ended up teaching me like that even though I’m not your student, thank you.”  

“I see,” he doesn’t sound fully convinced, but the worried edge to his voice subsides a bit, “If that’s how you feel then I’m glad I could help.” His face holds a mixture of guilt and hesitation, though, “I am sorry, I haven’t fully trained someone in years, and I suppose I went a little overboard.” 

“You mean before you became the Hwarang’s leader?” You ask as you shakily rise to your feet. 

“Right,” he nods with a nostalgic smile, “Jihoon, Seungkwan, and Eunseok all attended my family’s school. Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu joined us afterwards, Hansol never fully joined but would stop by often. We don’t have time for it now, but we used to test our skills out against each other nearly every day.” 

The topic of the ‘old days’ often came up when the captains were tipsy or drunk on their alcohol. Youngmin’s father had been high up in the Crown’s council when he was alive, but later left to start up his own fighting school, much like Lee Alcheon had done. 

“All of that training must’ve been tough,” you wonder aloud.

“It was,” Youngmin nods in agreement, “But it was fulfilling, in a different way than what our work is now.” He gazes off into nothing as he reminisces, causing a pang of envy to invade you for a moment.  

“Earlier you said you weren’t my student,” Youngmin speaks up, looking at you, “Since I am technically a master of my family’s school, and I spent today training you… I think that more or less makes you a disciple of the style as well. That would make you a student like a few of the captains.” 

His words cause a smile to break out on your face, “Thank you.” Obviously, it isn’t an official method, and it was hardly a full day’s worth of instruction, but it made an unbridled happiness bubble within you. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve taught me today.”

enjoy what you read? leave a comment! it helps with motivating us writers to keep producing content for our lovely readers ❤

[wonwoonlight]

shiny star / kim mingyu

➝ Mingyu x Reader (ft. Jungkook, Chaeyoung, Chungha, etc.)

➝ shiny star!au // university!au // non idol!au // friends to ??? // fluff // slice of life

➝ word count: 5.9~k

➝ warning: curses, food, mingyu is flirty (??) but not a playboy, he's way too perfect lol, basketball captain!gyu, OC is cool af according to me😎

➝ inspired by: Shiny Star (2020) - KyoungSeo

➝ shiny star playlist //  Shiny Star masterlist (can be read as standalone)

Seungcheol // Jeonghan // Joshua // Junhui // Soonyoung // Wonwoo // Jihoon // Seokmin // Mingyu // Minghao // Seungkwan // Hansol // Chan

A/N: as you've all guessed, here's Mingyu's Shiny Star! happy birthday, Gyu! this was fun to write and i'm pretty happy with how it turned out aha. hopefully yall would like this as much as i do, and pls do drop by and tell me what you think of this after you read

숨이 가득 차올라서 아무 말 하지 못했는데 I couldn’t say anything because I’m out of breath

너는 말 없이 웃으며 내 손 잡아줬죠 But you took my hands without saying anything but a smile

[✾✾✾]

This would sound annoying, but Mingyu is used to getting confessions. He enjoys the attention, enjoys knowing that people admire him even though he barely does anything. Yes, he’s handsome, has good grades, and is the star of the basketball team, but they all come effortlessly to Kim Mingyu.

He is God’s favorite, after all.

You genuinely think that whatever religion Mingyu believes in, every god that’s in charge of grace all helped to shape him.

But it’s not always a good thing. Because, fuck, it’s so stupid that your heart flutters when he grins at the audience after shooting a three-pointers. He’s not even looking at you, and he’s so cocky because he salutes to everyone as he runs through the court to hug his teammates. And yet butterflies would fly like crazy inside you and you want to hate it but you don’t.

Another reason why it’s stupid: you didn’t realize you’ve been staring at him–well, really, you’re staring at a random spot behind him because you’re zoning out, but it is him in your mind, so–until Mingyu tilts his head and asks if there’s something in his face because you’ve been staring at him for the past five minutes.

You blink at the question, as if brought back from a trance, and Mingyu chuckles and shakes his head before pouring water in the empty glass in front of you.

“You haven’t even drunk that much.” He grins as you thank him and take the water.

You’ve somehow been roped into the basketball team’s celebratory dinner, along with Chungha and Chaeyoung who are sitting on the other side of the table. Well, not somehow, you guess, because you’re friends with those two girls (who basically possess free passes to every social function in the university) and your childhood friend, Jeon Jungkook, is also in the team. Which means, you actually hang out a lot with the guys–and that includes Mingyu.

He’s barely even a friend despite your embarrassing crush, and you’re not that close even if you hang out a lot with the team.

“What’s bothering you?” Jungkook plops down beside you once Chungha goes to the restroom. He’s noticed you’ve been distracted from earlier, but you don’t seem to be in a bad mood or anything–simply too deep in your own thoughts.

You consider shaking your head and telling him nothing. What can you say anyway? ‘No biggies, I just have a crush on your captain here.’

“Just… something.” You leave it at that.

Jungkook isn’t the closest friend you have and you don’t always tell him everything, but he’s known you for way too long to know how to read your body language and your mood. Which is cool, but not really when you feel like hiding something.

That, together with his curiosity and his tendency to pry when he has nothing else to care about is not a combination you’re particularly fond of.

He narrows his eyes at you, and before he can say anything, you take a spoonful of cake and shove it inside his mouth with an innocent smile. Mingyu chuckles from across you both, and Jungkook glares at you even though he happily swallows the cake and frowns in delight after.

“I’m not letting this go.” He says under his breath before throwing an arm on top of your chair.

“Whatever you say.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t you have some girl to flirt with? Why are you here?”

“What, I can’t be with you? The oldest friend I have in my life?” He mocks a heartache, which you don’t even pretend to care about. Jungkook doesn’t usually sit beside you during this kinda gathering because someone always pulls him first, and you’re sure he wants something from you. He pouts at your deadpanned eyes. “My social battery is out. I want to go home.”

“I’m not your mom.”

“They won’t let me go if I ask.” He whines like a kid. “Tell them you want to go home so I can go with you? Please?”

Mingyu watches the interaction in amusement. He knows a lot of people envy you for being able to bring this side out of Jungkook, but anyone with a working brain cell can tell that there’s nothing sort of romantic between you two. Even from the very first time he saw you, he could already tell that you and Jungkook are nothing but friends.

But sometimes people just see what they want to see, though fortunately you don’t seem to care about stuff like that. Mingyu doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s clear that you’re your own person and you don’t really care about what people say about you.

He’s seen first hand you ignoring some girl saying shit in front of your face due to your close relationship with Jungkook, simply saying ‘you done? I have class in ten minutes’ after they rambled and leaving them dumbfounded after. (He thinks you’re so cool after witnessing that by accident.)

It’s not a secret that Jungkook is protective of you though. He always is when it comes to his friends. And Mingyu also knows that some of his friends have backed out from shooting their shots because they don’t want to go through Jungkook.

Cowards.

If he was interested in you, he wouldn’t care all that much about Jungkook.

Alas.

“I’ll take you to that dessert place in Cheongdam if we go home now.” He hears Jungkook whisper, though he doesn’t see why the guy is whispering when no one seems to be listening to his hushed conversation with you except for him, that is.

“You’re paying.” You add before you stand up and announce you’re tired so you’re taking Jungkook home with you. Some people try to convince you to stay for a little bit more, but you make up some reasons about having to wake up early tomorrow.

“Can’t believe you’d use your friend like that, man.” Mingyu jokes when you leave to say bye to Chaeyoung and Chungha.

Jungkook shrugs. “That’s what friends are for.”

You tell Jungkook you’re ready to leave, and he immediately stands up from his seat and slings an arm around your shoulder. You give Mingyu a smile and a wave before proceeding to do the same to everyone else.

He fails to notice your shy demeanor when your eyes meet his, but Jungkook doesn’t and he brings it up the moment you’re inside the comfort of his car.

“So. Mingyu, huh?”

At this point, you’re not even surprised. But you’re going to play stupid first because why make it easy for him to pry?

“What’s with him?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Since when have you been crushing on him?” He shoots straight to it, and plasters his face right in front of yours.

You swat his face away and tell him to start the car already.

“I’m not doing shit until you tell me.”

“I thought you said you’re out of social battery?”

“You know you don’t count.”

“Oh, how special I’m feeling right now.”

You and Jungkook go into a stare off, and  it’s during times like this that you hate his big, circle eyes because they get on your nerves. You sigh and repeat what you said earlier, saying that you’ll tell him as he drives you back home.

“You know I’m not going to say anything about it, right?” Jungkook says just in case.

“I know. I simply didn’t tell you because it’s nothing but a crush.” You connect your phone to his car’s bluetooth, choosing a random playlist on your Spotify. “I don’t like him enough for it to be worth mentioning.”

Apparently, he doesn’t believe this.

“Since when?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Since when?”

You sigh, regretting giving in to him.

“Like… a few months ago? That time you had practice until 1 in the morning and you asked me to pick you up.”

Jungkook’s answer is immediate together with a click of his tongue. “That’s not a crush alright. That was almost a semester ago.”

“Almost. So it’s not a semester ago.” If he wants to play stubborn, so can you.  

“If you don’t like him enough, you wouldn’t be avoiding his eyes and zone out the way you did.”

“So, I’m a little shy, is that wrong?”

He softens at your defensive tone, and he takes one of your hands to squeeze it in comfort before letting it go.

“You know that’s not what I mean. Sure, let’s say it’s nothing but a crush–”

“–because it is–”

“–Why are you not doing anything about it? It’s been at least five months and you see him quite regularly.”

“I told you. It’s just a crush.” You shrug, failing to see why Jungkook is making a big deal out of this. “I don’t see us getting together. He’s way out of my league.”

Jungkook is actually so shocked he steps on the brake with a sudden force. Thankfully, it’s 11PM on a Thursday night and the road is practically empty.

“What the fuck do you mean he’s out of your league?” He’s offended for your sake, you realize, and while it warms you a little to know that he cares about you to this extent, you still don’t see why Jungkook is so adamant about this whole thing. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

“Dunno. Just feel that way. But like I said, it’s nothing but a crush, Kook. It’ll pass.”

He’s not satisfied with this answer, but you do that thing where you cross your arms and look out the window of his car, a sign that you’re done with this conversation.

So Jungkook drops it even though he’s skeptical it’ll really pass just like that. It’s not often that you’re interested in someone, and he knows for a fact that you tend to fall long and deep.

You ask him when he’ll be free to take you to the dessert place he promised earlier.

[✾✾✾]

Jungkook forgets time when he’s playing basketball, and it seems like he’s also forgotten he’s promised to drive you home today.

The day has felt particularly long for you for no reason and you figure it’s probably just one of those days. Since you woke up this morning, going home is the only thing you’re looking forward to, and if that doesn’t say enough, the fact that you don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at your friend should suffice because you really just want to go home and end the day.

There’s no time nor energy to be annoyed.

He doesn’t reply to your text when you ask where he is, and when you text Minghao and he says he’s on court, you simply exhale a deep breath before making your way there.

Mingyu is about to exit the court when you come in, and you don't realize just how bad your mood is until you see him and you don’t feel the usual rush of excitement. You don’t even register that it’s him until he calls you.

“Are you… okay?” He asks when he notices you’ve just noticed it’s him greeting you.

“Ah… yeah. Just one of those days.” You shrug, your smile way too polite for his liking. He doesn’t think he’s seen you like this, but, then again, he’s only seen so much of you.

That fact suddenly bothers him somehow.

For some reason, Mingyu feels like talking more. “You’re here to see Jungkook?”

In any other scenario, you would’ve noticed the question is stupid. You really only come there for Jungkook. Sometimes you’d go because Chaeyoung or Chungha wants to watch them practice, but you never go there alone if not for your childhood friend. This is a fact that everyone in the team is aware of.

Alas, you’re tired and you just want to go home.

“Yeah. He’s driving me home.”

If Mingyu notices how small your voice is, you don’t notice any shift in him because you’re too out of it.

“I don’t think he’s going to finish anytime soon.” He frowns, turning to where Jungkook is. The guy hasn’t noticed you yet, your figure is probably partly hidden by Mingyu’s and he’s way too focused on the game to see you anyway.

Mingyu isn’t sure what makes him say what he says next, but he does anyway.

“Do you… want me to bring you home instead?”

You’re so surprised that you practically snap your neck to finally see him in the eyes. You’re probably looking at him weird, because Mingyu immediately says he’s simply offering because you look too tired to be waiting around for Jungkook. 

“Oh… no, sorry. Just didn’t expect you to offer, that’s all.” You reassure him. “I wouldn’t want to burden you, anyway. But thanks for offering.”

“You sure?” He asks, once again telling you that the current game has just started and Jungkook’s going to take quite some time to finish. “I don’t mind, really.”

Tomorrow, when your mood has picked up and your weak-ass-Mingyu-centric heart has started to work again, you’d wonder about why Mingyu offered at all. You’d be thinking about it for days to come, making all sorts of scenarios in your head.

But that’s a problem for you tomorrow. Right now you just want to go home with Jungkook because you can’t be bothered to walk to the bus stop when he has a perfectly working car that you can let your guard down in.

Plus, he has promised to bring you home. Since you stepped into the university this morning, you’ve been imagining going into his car, staring into space, and arriving right in front of your door without much hurdles. That’s what you want right now.

It’s then that Jungkook finally catches your eyes. He takes one glance at you and drops the basketball, the guy in front of him curses until he sees you; seemingly understanding the reason with your presence.

“You okay?” He asks right away, and when you tell him you want to go home, he curses and apologizes for forgetting to pick you up at your building. He wouldn’t be this courteous had you been in your usual mood, probably would ask you to wait until the game ended, but Jungkook knows when not to push it and today is certainly that day. “I’ll just get my stuff, okay?”

He only notices Mingyu after he says this, and when he asks his friend what he’s doing with you, it’s you who tells him to move faster because you’re tired.

“I’ve never seen Jungkook let go of a basketball so fast.” He remarks after the guy leaves, making you chuckle a little.

“He knows when I’m tired.” You offer. “And I’m not tired often, so…” Before Mingyu can say anything, you add, “Anyway, thanks again for offering. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” He says, surprisingly genuine and a little bit hopeful with what he says after. “If Jungkook is ever unavailable, feel free to text me and I’ll take you home instead if I could.”

You wonder if Mingyu does this to everyone he knows.

Chaeyoung and Chungha squeals the next day when you tell them about it, already betting that Mingyu is into you because there’s no way he’s not interested if he offers (insists?) to take you home like that.

You tell them he’s probably just being nice and it means nothing.

Your head (and heart) disagrees and you continue to think about it for weeks to come.

[✾✾✾]

Unfortunately, Jungkook is correct when he said you like Mingyu a little too much for it to just be another crush.

You’re not even sure how it comes to be, but the feeling now bothers you because you’d frown when you see yet another poor soul confessing to Mingyu even if they’re rejected; because you’d look at Lisa and wonder what it’s like to be her who can freely hog Mingyu to herself because they’re that comfortable with each other; because you’d find yourself staring at him a little too long that Chaeyoung needs to remind you not to be too obvious; because you’d be too conscious around him that you’re not you anymore everytime you hang out with the team now.

You hate it.

You hate being conscious around your friend and you’re trying to find a way to let go of your feelings.

“Confess to him?” Chaeyoung offers. “Or I suppose talking to Jungkook would be better. He’d know what to say because he’s close with the guy. Or do you want me to ask Lisa? I talk to her from time to time.”

“Confess, huh.” You ponder, the idea has never crossed your mind before. Things might get awkward between you and Mingyu after, but you’ll live because it’s not like you’re super close or anything. There’s no real loss, if you want to be completely honest.

Perhaps confessing would be the closure you need: have him reject you and move on. Sometimes a cold slap of reality is what you need, anyway.

“You think I should tell Kook first? Just in case it gets awkward between them?”

“Wait, you’re really considering it?” Chungha sits straight, not expecting you to actually take the idea. “What if he rejects you?”

“That’s the goal. Get rejected and move on.”

The two girls share a look, unsure what to say.

“But… you’ll be heartbroken…”

“At least it means I’ll finally get my closure. That’s the first step of moving on.” You’re a little too cool about the whole thing for their liking, but you’ve always been this kind of person and they don’t see why they should stop you if you think that’s what you need.

“You sure?”

You’re not, but you don’t think you have any other choice and the feeling is starting to get very irritating. So you make your way to the basketball court to find Jungkook after class.

Of course, it’s the object of your affection who sees you first, and you give him a tightlipped smile before asking for your friend.

Apparently, he’s in the changing room, and after sending a junior to call for Jungkook, Mingyu starts a small talk to keep you company. “He’s taking you home again today?” 

“Ah, no. Got something to talk about real quick.” You say with an awkward smile. Like you say, you hate being conscious like this, you’re sure Mingyu can feel your awkwardness, and you hate that you might’ve made him uncomfortable too without meaning to.

Poor thing doesn’t even know why you’re being awkward.

“Sup.” Jungkook calls for you the moment he steps into the court, and you wave at Mingyu before leaving him by himself to go to Jungkook.

He watches you take your friend by the arm to a corner where no one’s around, and then he sees Jungkook shake his head before you two start whispering to each other. He’s pretty sure Jungkook’s eyes linger at him for quite a few seconds before he looks at you again, his palm squeezes your arm once before he says something that Mingyu obviously can’t make out from where he’s at.

He’s not sure why he’s paying this much attention, but he is and he wonders if something has happened to you because Jungkook looks concerned, a frown evident on his face. He bites his lip a little, and Mingyu looks away when Jungkook glances at him once more.

Are you two talking about him?

There isn’t really anything to talk about though… right?

Something nags on the back of his head, but Mingyu can’t quite tell what it is and he’s not sure what to make out of it anyway.

Why… does he care again?

“You’re leaving?” Mingyu asks when he sees you make your way to him. At your nod and your small smile, Mingyu finds himself asking before he can even stop himself. “Are you okay?”

You seem surprised, but the corner of your lips lift a little higher when you assure him that you’re fine. You hesitate before you say your next words, but Mingyu patiently waits anyway.

“Are you… playing today?”

“Me? No, I’m done for the day. Why?”

“Can I talk to you for a bit?”

Mingyu blinks in confusion, not seeing where this could be going at all. Does this have to do with whatever you were talking about with Jungkook earlier? 

“Sure.” He shrugs. And when he looks around, his eyes meet Jungkook’s whose expression isn’t all that readable. “Here?”

You end up somewhere outside the building, where it’s quiet and no one’s present. If Mingyu isn’t too caught up in concern, he would notice that this scenario is way too familiar; one that he’s gone through one too many times. After all, how many times have people told him they needed to tell him something and brought him somewhere quiet to confess?

But it doesn’t even occur to him. Perhaps he simply doesn’t think you’re into him and there’s obviously no way this talk would go down that road.

“Are you really okay?” Mingyu asks again, even more concerned this time. It’s then that he realizes that this is the first time when it’s just the two of you. You’ve never talked with him privately before, don’t really have any reason to.

“Yeah. Just need to tell you something.”

You feel like you’re going to burst if you delay it even one more second, so you just blurt it in one go to get it over with. 

“I like you.”

Obviously, it’s not something that Mingyu can simply get over with.

“I’m sorry?”

He looks extremely confused, most likely caught off guard. But you’re happy to know that you’re feeling lighter now that you’ve let it out there. You find yourself not really caring about what Mingyu has to say, which is selfish on your part, but you’re really just glad that you feel better almost instantly after you say it out loud.

“I’m not expecting anything, don’t worry.” It’s the first time Mingyu has received a confession where the other party doesn’t seem shy and expectant and he’s not sure what to make of your relieved smile. “It’s a little selfish of me, but I just think it’d be better to confess and leave it there.”

You’re way too busy being glad to notice Mingyu is frozen in place, not expecting the relief to be that instant. You would’ve confessed earlier if you knew, but what matters is you finally did and you can only hope Mingyu won’t feel awkward with Jungkook. You can just not come to the game for a bit if it’s uncomfortable for anyone, but Jungkook is in the team and you’d hate to make it weird for them.

“Anyway, no need to be awkward with Jungkook, alright? I already told him everything.” What did you say to him, exactly? Mingyu wants to ask, but he’s too dumbfounded to even say anything. And it’s when you tell him that’s all you had to say before turning to leave that he snaps out of it and takes your arm in reflex.

“Sorry–wait. No.” He stumbles over his words. The way you’re looking at him in question is adorable, and Mingyu suddenly wonders if you’ve always been this cute. Has he simply not realized because you’re always with Jungkook? 

Anyhow, this doesn’t feel like a confession at all despite your honesty about your feelings. Who confesses and leaves before hearing an answer?

You, apparently.

But, then again, what is he doing stopping you from leaving? It’s not like he reciprocates your feelings or anything. But it feels weird to be on the receiving end of a confession like this. Shouldn’t he thank you for not making him reject you?

“Wait. You… like me?”

“Is it weird?” You frown, almost offended. You look at his fingers on your wrist, and Mingyu squeezes it once before letting go.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant.” He waves in denial. “Just… uh… didn’t expect it, I guess.”

You laugh with a shake of your head, and this is truly the first confession Mingyu has ever received in which the other person isn’t nervous and isn’t asking for a chance. You’re not even showing any sign of being shy. 

If anything, you look even more relaxed than before.

“Well, like I said I’m not expecting anything from you.” Mingyu wonders if you’ve ever smiled this big around him before. He’s pretty sure you haven’t, because he would remember a smile this beautiful otherwise. “So, no need to say anything back and, again, don’t be awkward with Jungkook, okay? If it’s uncomfortable for you, I can just not go to the games for a while.”

Are you seriously thinking about him being awkward with Jungkook when it’s you confessing to him right now?

“You don’t need to… uh… not go.” Mingyu stutters out of nowhere, and he curses himself for being awkward when you don’t even seem uncomfortable in the slightest bit. “We don’t need to be awkward, right?”

You shrug, your face void of any awkwardness. “If you say so. I’ll be on my way now. Thank you for not being weird about this, by the way.”

And as you leave him with a much better mood he found you in earlier, Mingyu wonders why he feels like he’s the one being rejected when it’s you confessing to him.

[✾✾✾]

You have expected Mingyu to be a little weird and awkward around you after the confession.

But you didn’t expect him to be around you.

It seems like, after the whole thing, he’s adamant to be close to you everytime he could. He’d sit beside you when you join team dinner, he’d accompany you when you’re waiting for Jungkook, and he’d even reply to your Instagram stories from time to time.

You don’t think too much about it, though it does annoy you a little because it’s making moving on harder. At least you’re no longer conscious around him and the others, which was the most annoying thing before and what drove you to confess in the first place.

Chaeyoung and Chungha (even Jungkook) ask you about it from time to time, but you’re consistent in your answer: that there’s nothing going on between you two and you simply confessed for the sake of confessing.

It’s been about a month since you confessed and Mingyu is immensely confused.

For someone who claims to like him, you’re not showing any sign that you’re into him at all. If anything, you seem uninterested; like he’s just a friend of a friend (which he kinda is). At some point, Mingyu even wonders if you’re simply messing with him.

He also wonders if that’s the reason why he starts paying attention to you instead. He becomes conscious of your presence, and he dares to say he’s enjoying it.

He finds himself smiling when you do, and he finds himself leaning to where you’re at every chance he gets.

And now, he finds himself thinking why you confessed the way you did. Why didn’t you ask for a chance? Mingyu is straightforward when it comes to turning down confessions, but he suddenly wonders if he’d try it out with you had you not simply gone on your way that day.

If there’s one thing Mingyu is bad at, it’s containing his curiosity. That, along with the fact that you seem pretty chill, pushes him to where he’s at right now: with you in the bubble tea place in front of university.

Jungkook and Minghao are whining for some, and when you volunteer to get it for them, it leads to a couple of other members of the team to ask the same too. Before Jungkook sighs and offers to go with you, Mingyu volunteers first because he wants to.

There. He admits it. He wants to spend some time with you.

As you two wait for your orders, you both sit at one of the tables and that’s when Mingyu decides to ask.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“When you… uh… confessed to me.” You don’t seem appalled to be talking about it, which encourages Mingyu to continue. “Why… Did you say you’re not expecting me to answer?”

“Uh, because I know you’re not into me? I know you’re going to reject me anyway.”

Mingyu frowns, his fingers that are drumming against the table stop at your words. “Why would you assume that?”

“Well, am I wrong?” You chuckle, and he doesn’t know what to make of your nonchalance. But he knows that it bothers him that you automatically think he’d reject you. Is that the kind of image you have of him? (It’s not entirely untrue, he is clear when it comes to rejection.) Or do you simply think he wouldn’t be into you?

“What if I say you are?” Mingyu decides to go for it. What he feels for you is not strong enough to be called ‘love’, maybe not even ‘like’ just yet, but he’s definitely into you and the thought of spending time with you has been clouding his thoughts over and over again like a heavy rain these days.

He can definitely see–no–feel himself falling for you deeper as time passes by. He just needs more time to get there, preferably with you.

“What are you saying?” You shake your head, trying to hide the fact that you’re flustered like your heart isn’t beating way too fast that it almost hurts. What is he saying, really?

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

Mingyu blinks, sure that he’s heard wrong. “No?”

But you’re clear when you repeat your answer.

“What do you mean no?” He asks, genuinely confused. “Didn’t you just say you liked me, like, a month ago?”

“I told you I simply confessed for the sake of it.” You remind him, though your calm tone relaxes him in ways he can’t really explain. Perhaps he’s just glad you’re not making a big deal out of it. “I’ve never had any thoughts of dating you.”

“Why?”

“You’re you.” You say like it’s obvious, but Mingyu is once again offended for you and he frowns before he asks.

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re Kim Mingyu, the basketball star with the perfect GPA.” You start to list all of his titles and his accomplishments in university, and it’s the first time that Mingyu doesn’t feel good at someone complimenting him. For once, he’s not all that proud of those things you’ve just listed down. “And I’m… me. People probably only know me as Jungkook’s close friend. Chaeyoung and Chungha’s plain friend. And I don’t mind being known as such, but it should explain why I don’t think I have any chance with you.”

Mingyu frowns, and he stares at you a little too hard that you can’t tell at all what he’s trying to express.

“I don’t like how you imply you’re not exceptional.”

“Because I am not.” You shrug, not getting why Mingyu sounds upset. “And it’s okay. Nothing bad about being ordinary. I like being ordinary. I can’t imagine getting all that attention you get everywhere you go.”

Mingyu kind of gets what you’re saying, but he still doesn’t like that you consider yourself ordinary. Nothing, not one single thing, that you’ve done to him has been ordinary. Not the way you confessed, not the way you act after you confessed, not the words you’re telling him right now.

And, now that he’s been paying more attention to you, nothing you do is sort of ordinary. You’re straightforward when you need to be, and you know exactly what you want and how to say them without sounding demanding. You’re not soft spoken and he means it in the best way possible, you’re good at reading the room and you know when to play dumb if that’s what the situation calls for. You know when to prioritize yourself and when you should prioritize your friends without being too selfless nor selfish.

If someone like you is what you consider ordinary, he doesn’t know what kind of person you’d consider special.

To Mingyu, you’re already as special as someone can possibly be.

How can you be ordinary if you confessed and then said ‘no’ when the said person asked you out on a date?

Wait. Did you think he was kidding?

“Anyway, I wasn’t kidding when I asked if you want to go on a date with me.”

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said no.” You chuckle a little, making Mingyu all the more confused.

“Why?”

“I told you. You’re Mingyu.” When he demands more explanation with the look in his eyes, you finally give in to honesty. “You’re too handsome. Too perfect, in fact. It’s burdensome to be with you. I don’t feel worthy enough.” You scrunch your face, and Mingyu needs to contain himself before he reaches out to squish your face. 

Funnily enough, Mingyu doesn’t feel offended when you say this, just entirely dumbfounded that the things that are supposedly good are the reason why you don’t want to go on a date with him. Plus, what do you mean you’re not worthy enough?

“I’m nothing like that. No one is perfect”

You roll your eyes and wave a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You’re still too handsome. If you’re, like, only a little handsome, I would’ve said yes.”

Mingyu bursts into laughter, not getting what you’re saying at all and finding the whole thing funny at this point. But if there’s one thing you should’ve known about him, it’s that he’s stubborn and he’s competitive.

He’s not the basketball captain for no reason.

“You know you’re not making any sense?” He asks after his laughter dies down. But then something hits his mind and he gets serious. “Do you not like me anymore?”

“I still do.” You reassure, much too chill like the feeling doesn’t bother you. Should Mingyu be grateful? “But I told you you’re too handsome and a little burdensome to date. That’s why I confessed, did I not tell you? I just wanted you to reject me and move on from then.”

Mingyu blinks once. And then twice. Mouth a little ajar as his head tries to proceed your words

Not one single word from your mouth makes sense. Did you just say you confessed to him because you want to get rejected? Anyhow, now he knows you still like him and that leaves him one thing to do: convince you to go on a date with him.

“There’s no way I’m letting you move on.” He grins, now sure about his plan moving forward. You look at him confused, though he can tell that you’re a little flustered and he can’t help but think he wants to see more of that. “You’re going on a date with me, alright?”

You huff a chuckle, incredulous, and one corner of your lip lifts in genuine amusement. “I guess if you’re able to convince me somehow.”

“Deal.” Mingyu grins and you feel giddiness fill you inside out like never before as he stares at you with determination. “Remember that you allowed me to try. You don’t get to complain later on that I won’t stop following you every chance I get.”

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N: so here goes the latest shiny star!! this is both "Mingyu's birthday is closeby" and "I got a sudden strike of inspiration" lol. i finished writing this in like,, 2, 3 days? anyhow, i hope you like this as much as i do. pls do tell me what you think of it <;3 again, i didn't think shiny star would get to this point when i wrote wonwoo's lol but i'm thankful a lot of you seems to like it hehe

permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17@leechanniee@twogyuu@hoe4wonwoo@h3h3tm0n@noraehey @seokshook@rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @svtreverie @coveyland @reallydgafaboutmyusername @sysymei @ovai @aikisbbq @fr0g-filez

[sanakiras]

BLOOM FOR ME. [TEASER]

PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader

WORD COUNT — 1.4k

SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

TAGS — college au, slice of life, angst, strangers to fwb to lovers, fem!reader, minor use of the fake dating trope, mature content, inexpressive!reader

♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me

read the full fic here.

you and kim mingyu just don't work.

to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.

and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.

all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.

you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.

soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.

and then there’s mingyu.

he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.

the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.

you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.

yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.

perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.

non-existent.

neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.

for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.

or, well — that used to be the case.

because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.

it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.

had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.

it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.

but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.

neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.

after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.

but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.

when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.

“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.

“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“what we did. together.”

“we fucked. so what?”

oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.

“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”

“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”

“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”

“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”

even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.

“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”

sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”

his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.

“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”

“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.

“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.

to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.

many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?

he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.

read the full fic here. x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[suhnshinehaos]

⚘  growing pains

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor

act three : the unexpected love

after years studying and working abroad, yn is finally back home to a new job and new faces. all they want now is to focus on nothing else but their career and one of their coworker’s friends, minghao, makes it all the more interesting. 

previous  ➤  interlude i next  ➤  act three, part one growing pains  ➤  masterlist

profiles : the endgame

scoups entertainment !

yn : you, the main lead. 

soonyoung : one of the most popular dancers/choreographers in the industry. yn’s university friend who referred them to the company. cycles through headers of his friends doing the horanghae.

seungcheol : ceo of scoups entertainment, one of the most formidable names in the industry. known to be very protective of the people he employs. soonyoung, jihoon, wonwoo, and jun have been in and believed in the company since the very beginning, so he takes their thoughts on matters very seriously. 

jihoon : producer and songwriter to the gods. everyone who’s anyone has gotten a song written and/or produced by him. 

wonwoo : rapper and producer, almost zero social media presence unless he’s replying to his friends’ tweets or streaming video games. 

jun : model turned actor that is now working his way into getting in the music industry as well. also a self-proclaimed cupid.

the unexpected love !

minghao : works in the biggest fashion, music, and lifestyle magazine in the country. paints in the little free time he has, takes his craft very seriously. a close friend of jun’s.   

catching up with...

maple drive !

hansol's discord kittens !

from reese, with love <3

last act.... i'd be lying if i said i wasn't a little bit emotional about all this ;-; thank you all for riding this emotional rollercoaster with me, i hope you're ready for the final stretch ! thank you sm for reading, hope you're all doing well and taking care <3

side note : i have been listening to the hadestown soundtrack on repeat and i can't help but imagine how great of an orpheus seokmin would be aaaaah >_< + for those reading my yy smau,,, slight treacherous crossover with the magazine hehe ;)

[gallivantingheart]

Use Your Mouth as an Anchor

masterlist | previous | next

🍵 chapter 5: persimmon🍵

who?: soonyoung/hoshi x (f)reader

word count: 2403

genre/s: fluff, humour, social media!au

warnings: some course language

genre: social media!au, princess diaries II !au, humour, romance, mild angst

warnings: none, as of yet

**please ignore the timestamps - they are not accurate**

a/n: my dudes, we go a biggin'. also, updated line break design, if one cares. trying real hard not to make wonwoo too ooc, i'm just so used to being totally delulu infatuated with him *sigh* also also! shameless self-plug, but i have a new jeonghan fic (hold onto your pants, it's 41K+ wc) here, if you would like some "light" reading pffft

The royal residence never failed to take your breath away, day or night. Tonight though, coming through the small gardens before the front doors instead of the servants’ entrance, felt a little like entering enemy territory.

The Old Genoa Palace has been standing for almost 500 years, built not too long after the split between Amaide and Korea. Built in the same style as Joseon-era Korean architecture, it stood as the image of independence. New Genoa Palace is only about 140 years old, built a lot more like the mansions from New York with its style of stone work and what look like western features - those western motifs are actually a lot closer in eastern influence with intricate and sharp square lace-like stonework. But enough about the history.

Wonwoo was meeting you there - he was carpooling with another journalist that lived closer to him. Apparently, you also took forever to get ready, which you took offence to. You had picked up the dress from Joshua yesterday, who was bristling with excitement for you. Your ID, phone and invite in a purse with a long silver chain strap on the passenger seat.

You pull up the entry of the small formal gardens, turning off the engine of your lovingly beat up hatchback. The car was easily kissing 20 years of age and looked pitiful against the rich expanse of a damn palace. You pass the keys to a valet.

“Please be careful with her.” You mutter.

The shockingly young man smiles fondly and slips in. You watch her putter off and show your invite to the next employee, who flips it over and scans it under UV light. A symbol shows up and he nods, checking you off a list on his tablet.

“Up the main paved path, following the lights.”

You follow diligently and try not to linger on the fragrant florals or the pretty bridge over the man-made pond - more layers to a trap. Surely there were easier ways to enter, but this must be their way of showing some kind of prowess or setting some kind of ambiance. When you break through, you realise why. You hadn’t come in the front doors, not really. It’s the Old Palace, beautifully lit. The queen had arranged for the event to be held in the massive courtyard of the historical palace, over the cool slate coloured stone under the last of the warm weather for this time of year. It had glorious acoustics, the orchestra raised on the next landing on the staircase carrying the music effortlessly. Despite all the beauty, your stomach lurches into your throat. Where was Wonwoo!

You try to stick to the edges, taking a flute of… oh. Champagne. You put it back on the next tray and try to find something a little less traumatic to drink. Quiet as can be amongst the vast array of guests - from members of parliament to foreign dignitaries and ambassadors. You do spot a few celebrities, mainly of the musical variety. It was well-known that King Consort Jihoon studied music and was very invested in it. Wonwoo might be there. Snippets of conversation were light and devoid of any big news, which was nice. Quite a few about family gripes and dog maintenance. Still, through it all, you feel as if your family name has been branded on your forehead, just waiting to be seen. Finally you find him the shadow of a covered walkway, looking very sleek in his three piece suit.

“Thank God. I forget you hide better than I do.” You mutter.

He smiles, genuine. “That’s true. You’re here earlier than I expected.”

“Still offending me, ‘Woo.”

He shrugs and gestures to guide you to a manned refreshments table with another vaguely familiar face. It was a servant of the house you had interviewed a few times for work at the advice of your main contacts.

You smile. “Hey, lovely to see you.”

“And you! Surprised though ‘cause of, well, you know.”

Your expression becomes brittle on your lips and you clear your throat to steel yourself. Way to point out the obvious.

“Me too! But I got the invite, so I do as I’m told. Do you have anything that isn’t champagne?”

You are handed a glass of a non-sparkling rose and the fruity notes ease you. With Wonwoo on side you’re confident to venture a little further into the crowd.

“Got much in the way of work intel?” You hum behind your glass.

He shrugs, adjusting his glasses - you knew he was due for a contacts appointment, but was putting it off.

“I guess.”

“You’re really keeping that convo rolling, Wonwoo.”

“I’m the only one here who doesn’t feel like overtalking when they’re nervous.”

You glare. “Okay, you really gotta shut up - blow after blow, buddy. Like, it hurts.”

He grins. “Make up your mind - talk, don’t talk…”

“Stop dragging me! You’re my best friend!” You whine, taking an extra step ahead to turn and face him as you walk, almost walking backwards. “Like it doesn’t help that I’m a cat amongst the pigeons - I need moral support -oof!”

You missed the way Wonwoo’s eyes had gone over your shoulders, blown wide so you couldn’t save yourself when you stepped into someone and jabbed your stiletto into their shoe. There was a heavy grunt and your balance tipped dangerously. All your body could process was panic. Wonwoo reaches for you just as you do for him but there is a third set of hands setting you right. You spin to face the other party, an apology already formed on your tongue - it quickly goes dry at the sight of curious dark eyes.

“I-I Kwon Soonyoung.” You croak.

He goes a little shy at the intensity of your gaze. “Yeah. Careful there.”

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Is your foot okay?” You stoop as if to reach for his designer dress shoe.

He chuckles and shrugs. “I’ve had worse. Please, enjoy your night.”

You squeak out a noise to respond as he slips away. Your number one anti and you stepped on his foot! Wonwoo is swarming you as well, something you are more familiar with.

“Soonyoung! You need to be careful.” He says low.

You rub at your arms like scrubbing off in a shower. “I know! But, he must not recognise me.”

The pair of you stick together while you mingle, shooting glances here and there in silent conversation - notes and quotes of others to keep in mind for the next publication. 

You note that Queen Haneul makes the rounds as well, but nowhere near you. Well, at least someone knows the target on your back, even as she invited you in. But something struck you as odd.

“Wonwoo.”

He hums and turns to face you, stooping a little with your quiet call. “Yeah?”

“Have you seen a pattern between some of these guests?”

“Spell it out.”

“A good 60% of them have come in pairs or threes.”

“Of course. Couples, assistants.”

You shake your head and lift your hand from the tight grip on your purse to point at a trio to your right. Italian, old money - dare you say, part of the old Sicilian royal family.

“Majority are heirs - daughters - with an escort party. All our age.”

Now, Wonwoo frowns, adjusting his glasses while you point, again and again to different little pockets. Soonyoung is all smiles, squeezing the shoulder of a parliamentary member while exchanging for another flute of champagne with his free arm, not even looking as he does so.

“And they’re all eyeing up Head Advisor Soonyoung like prime Wagyu beef.” Wonwoo slowly adds.

Your jaw hangs loose as you straighten up and grab your friend’s lapel. You even make a dramatic gasp. Together you see the first catch of the evening, a pretty woman, European, lay a hand gently on his shoulder, curtsey and then gesture for the floor. You take a look around the party guests and note that every young woman you had pointed out is of good standing and single. Your jaw drops - it’s royal speed dating for goodness sake! 

 “Oh my - it looks like a matchmaking session. Queen Haneul is hosting. She personally signed my invite, and most likely everyone else’s here too.” Now that was some good gossip.

Together you watch between glasses of wine and champagne as Soonyoung works his magic. Passionate and charismatic, none of his partners tear their gaze from him. The Head Advisor to Queen Haneul had always been filled with boundless energy and a smile that could be familiar to Amaide residents everywhere - you had grown up with it, after all.

But as you’re watching this man go for a turn about the dance floor for the fourth time with some left-footed aristocrat you cringe and wince like a bad sports game.

“What the hell is happening there? Maybe Uncle Fred is right - the royal family is cruel.” You’re onto your third rosè, which is a little tacky of you but hey, free good quality alcohol should never be denied.

Wonwoo is at your back, visibly wincing. “Yeah. At this rate he’s going to leave tonight with less toes than when he started.”

“Or at least some serious swelling.” You add.

Now a Singaporean socialite slips into his arms and for all her class and grace, has no rhythm. You knew Soonyoung was an excellent dancer - it was no secret he had etiquette and dance lessons as part of the royal family. But his patience and talent was growing thinner with every partner. That passion had a volatile streak, edging closer with every match. You put your empty glass onto a passing tray.

“Oh, Wonwoo, someone has to help him. How can no one at this damn party keep time?” You lament.

By no means were you a musical genius, but you could count a 4/4 time and do a simple box waltz. You shrug your purse off your shoulder and stuff it into Wonwoo’s long hands.

“Stay here.”

“Where are you going?” His voice belies a rising panic.

You wink over your shoulder and shrug. “To help Kwon Soonyoung.”

You see Soonyoung's nose wrinkle and his teeth bare as the young woman steps on his left foot again.

“Uh, may I cut in?” You say with a light hand to his shoulder.

He turns too fast, bringing his partner with him and his expression nothing less than gobsmacked. His shoulder eases under your touch.

“Sure.” He dips his head to the tall young woman with knobbly elbows and knees. “Thank you very much for the dance.”

She mirrors him and shoots you a confused expression with her well-shaped brows before slipping back into the ocean of people. His grip is secure but not strangling and you pause to pick up the timing of the music.

“Just a heads up, I think you’re gonna need a medic by the time tonight is over. I’m surprised you’re still walking.” You mutter. “I couldn’t stand watching it any longer.”

He laughs, throwing his head back and his own grasp secure on your waist. “Thank you, I appreciate your concern for my poor feet. However, the queen has given me worse while she was in training. You’re in good hands with me.”

Soonyoung is an exceptional dancer, leading the pair of you as if you’re on air, gliding through the other couples. Somehow, you manage to forget the distain you’ve seen in his gaze when fellow reporters ask about the latest Chon family farce. The venom in his gaze has since melted away and he even worms a twirl out of you, your dress fanning out with the motion. This must be what it’s like to be a fairytale princess - if only your uncle knew. When he catches you, his grin is cheeky and bright, every bit the charismatic Advisor he was known to be.

“Told you that you were in good hands.” He says smugly.

Before you can refute it, his grip tightens and the world tilts in a deep, graceful dip. You can’t help but gasp, mouth rounded as he shades you from the moonlight. You love and hate the way your heart stutters. Romance is dead, you remind yourself. Not to mention it would never happen with Chon Hater #1. Still, you push past your reservations to make idle conversation.

“So I am. I hope you didn’t mind me butting in. I don’t mean to be arrogant when I say I know I can dance better than any of them. For your sake.”

He grins. “Of course not. It’s not conventional, sure, but since when has anything here been conventional.”

He switches up the tempo and position of your dance, edging into foxtrot territory and you frown to concentrate. The strings finally signal the song’s end and the two of you go still on the edge of the dance floor.

“For the record, you are a great dancer.” He murmurs, close to your ear and conversational in nature. “What was your name?”

Your throat dries up and you clear it roughly. “Uh, just Y/N.”

Soonyoung makes a show of bowing to you and you curtsey. “Well then, just Y/N, I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”

You murmur and smile. “You too, Soonyoung.”

You feel like Cinderella, fleeing the scene as soon as someone else sinks their claws into him, pushing through the throng of attendants to find Wonwoo. Your eyes are wide and beseeching, catching like a hangnail on every face to find your familiar safety net. That rosé must have really gotten to your head. You lock eyes with the Queen as you roughly push through. Her face mirrored yours in youth and she brightened at the sight of you, some kind of knowing in her sight you couldn’t understand. She was the one who invited you, after all. You finally crash into Wonwoo, snatching your bag from him and getting tangled in the long chain strap. 

“‘Woo, I gotta go. I - I need to get home. I’ve had too much to drink.” You’re breathless.

Tactfully, he doesn’t stop you and you don’t look over your shoulder as you skirt through the many open air corridors to an alternative exit, your feet throbbing and breath heaving.

Oh, this wasn’t going to bite you in the ass, no waaaay.

[mirisss]

Fangs, Claws, and Kisses

Genre: Hybrid au, college/university au, 

Tiger Hoshi x Hamster reader

Wordcount ≈ 3.2k

Warning: reader gets bullied, Hoshi being very protective, Hoshi sort of threatening someone (they deserve it though), it’s implied that Hoshi, among some of the others, has been in fights, please let me know if I should add anything else

Please reblog!

Third person POV

Kwon Soonyoung, aka, Hosh, is one of the most popular people at Pledis University. He’s well known for his great dance skills, his energy, his looks, and also… for being relentless against anyone who is mean toward anyone he cares about. Hoshi is a tiger hybrid, a big cat with sharp claws. As long as you stay on his good side, he’s just as cuddly as a teddy-bear but make one wrong move and it’s the last thing you do. Hoshi can be very territorial, especially toward his beloved girlfriend, (Y/n). A cute hamster hybrid. (Y/n) is quite small in stature, timid too, very smart, and to bullies, an easy target. How these two began dating? Well, let’s just say that Hoshi saw (Y/n) one day and he fell in love. He then spent 4 months becoming friends with her and then finally asking her out, to which she said yes as she too had fallen in love with the tiger. 

(Y/n) was often scared of walking around the hallways of the university on her own, afraid that one of her bullies would do something to her. The only time she truly felt safe was when she was enveloped in the warm embrace of her boyfriend, with him nothing bad could happen. At least, that’s how she felt. Usually, she would tell Soonyoung about anyone who bothered her and he would talk with them, after that they wouldn’t bother her again. But with these bullies, (Y/n) didn’t dare tell him. When it was just one person, it was fine to let Hoshi take care of it but now we’re talking about more than 10. (Y/n) didn’t want him to get hurt so she thought it would be better to keep it secret. Which went quite well for about 2 months. Hoshi didn’t notice (Y/n) being a bit more skittish around campus as when she was with him, she was calm. The tiger is her safe space. The problem was, as previously mentioned when she was alone. For two months, as soon as she was alone - which she mostly was unless she was hanging out with her boyfriend, sometimes one of his friends would go with her if their classes were close to each other - her bullies would crowd around her, saying mean things about until she was crying. But that was fine. As long as Hoshi didn’t find out. But now, after two months of mental torture, the bullies were bored so they found new ways to entertain themselves. They began throwing things at (Y/n), which then turned into pushes, punches, and kicking. This is when (Y/n) could no longer hide the torment from her boyfriend. 

Hoshi and three of his friends were in their designated dance room deciding on what song they would use for their new assignment. The four boys always teamed up whenever they could. Being best friends and knowing each other’s dance skills to a T really helped them and made it easy for them to work efficiently. (Y/n) was supposed to join them in the dance room at 3 pm to watch them work and then go home with Hoshi at 5 pm. Hoshi kept looking at the clock, becoming more and more worried as the clock hit 3, then it became 3.15, to 3.30, and still no (Y/n). Not a single person had even been close to the door, Soonyoung had strained his ears trying to hear his beloved hamster girlfriend’s footsteps, but to no avail. 

“Hyung, if you’re so worried why don’t you try calling her?” “I don’t want to pressure her, what if she’s just talking to a friend or something? And I call her, worried, she already deals with my possessive self enough, she doesn’t need me acting paranoid too,” The young lion, aka Chan, tried to help Hoshi to calm down but it didn’t help so he looked over to the panther and the leopard for help. Jun walked over, his black ears twitching noticeably in his blonde hair, his tail swishing behind him. “Soon, breathe, if (Y/n) hasn’t shown up nor contacted you before 4, we���ll all go and look for her. Okay?” “Okay, 30 more minutes… I can wait for 30 minutes,” And so the four boys got back in formation and began going over the few steps they had already decided on. 5 minutes later, the door to the practice room was opened and the small hamster hybrid stepped inside. All four boys could smell the fear and distress on her. Hoshi ran up to (Y/n) and looked down at her, full of worry. “Baby, what’s happened? What’s wrong?” (Y/n) tried to hold the tears at bay, but her attempts were futile, the second Hoshi’s hands touched her shoulders she broke down. Her tears streamed down her face like rivers, her whole body shivering. “It’s, it’s nothing,” Soonyoung enveloped (Y/n) in a tight hug, partly to comfort her and partly to see if he could find any scents on her that could help him figure out what had happened. Soonyoung found 2 scents that he recognized, but what really made his blood boil, was the bruises that littered (Y/n)’s back. He knew for a fact that she didn’t have them this morning, as he may or may not have spent the entire night with her - naked - so the bruises were new. Hoshi couldn’t help the angry growl that rumbled in his chest. “What happened? Don’t lie to me, please (Y/n),” Soonyoung lightly pulled (Y/n) with him to the center of the room and sat down on the floor with her, still keeping her close to give her comfort. “Do you want us to leave?” Minghao asked in a soft voice, not wanting to make it worse for the crying girl. Hoshi carefully looked at (Y/n) waiting to see what she decided, to which he found her giving a tiny shake of her head. “No, she wants you to stay,” “Okay, we’ll stay, but if you want us to leave we will be gone in a second,” Hoshi looked back at his girlfriend after giving his friends a thankful smile. “Baby, please. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s happened” “I didn’t want to worry you, so I didn’t say anything, but it just kept getting worse,” “What did?” “They, at first it was just words, and it was fine, but then they began throwing things at me and now they’re pushing, punching, and kicking me,” Hoshi let out a loud growl, but he wasn’t alone, the other three boys also growled, they all felt protective of their friend’s girlfriend. She was their friend too after all, so why wouldn’t they? “Who?” Hoshi’s voice was rough, laced with anger that anyone would dare to do these things to his beloved girlfriend. (Y/n) named all the names she could remember at the spot, there were more that she couldn’t remember at the moment but it was enough for Hoshi to at least go after these people for now. He’ll take the others later. “You can always tell me these things, (Y/n), you know I love protecting you. It makes me happy when you rely on me. I just want you to be happy and safe,” “But, they’re so many of them. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Soonyoung’s heart skipped a beat at the look in (Y/n)’s eyes, so full of love and worry for him. “Honey, I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t confront them on my own if I knew there were gonna be too many of them. Besides, I know that all the boys would come with me if I even mentioned that someone had dared look at you the wrong way, not to mention actually hurt you.” “He’s right you know, no one messes with our pack, and you’re a part of it,” Dino said as he came closer to the pair on the floor. Dino was probably the one that (Y/n) felt closest to after Hoshi, she had spent a lot of time with the maknae and he was very considerate of her, all of them were, but Dino just made her feel safe in a similar way to Hoshi. “What if any of you get hurt?” Jun and Minghao walked over too, deciding that it was okay to do so by the shift of Hoshi’s aura becoming a little more relaxed as (Y/n)’s crying slowed down. “You don’t have to worry about us, we’re big boys, besides, compared to us, the people you mentioned aren’t nearly as agile, smart, or strong. I’d bet that if Seungcheol-hyung even looked at them they’d run away in fear. I think, one of them actually kneeled in fear of Jihoon last week because he glared at them for being loud in the cafeteria,” Jun spoke in a playful and cocky, yet reassuring tone. “You don’t have to worry about us, you should worry about what mr. Tiger here is going to do to them, I think we might need a medic on standby,” Minghao said in a teasing tone as he nudged Soonyoung’s shoulder, which earned him a low growl. (Y/n) looked around at the four big cat hybrids who were trying to make her feel better. Never once, had she been scared of them even though it was literally in her instincts to be. “Thank you,” Soonyoung wiped the half-dried tears away from her face as she had now stopped crying, feeling safe in her boyfriend’s arms and the presence of their friends.

“Come on, we’re going home to take care of these bruises. And then I’m calling the others so we can prepare a meeting with these scumbags tomorrow,” Hoshi’s tail kept swishing angrily behind him, truthfully he wanted to storm over to the group of bullies immediately but he held himself back, (Y/n) was more important right now. “I’m sorry I disrupted your practice time,” “Don’t worry about that, we weren’t doing much anyway. You’re more important anyway,” (Y/n) stood up, feeling a little shaky from everything that had happened, her body was sore from the beating, and she was exhausted from crying and panicking. “I got you, darling. Don’t worry. You can lean on me,” Soonyoung said as he carefully laid his arm around her waist to give her support and comfort. 

The next morning, (Y/n) was told that Seungkwan was on his way over to walk her to school as Hoshi needed to leave early but he didn’t want her going with him or alone. (Y/n) knew, that Hoshi didn’t want her going with him because he and the other boys were going to have a talk with her bullies and he didn’t want her to see that. 30 minutes later, a knock was heard and (Y/n) opened to door to be met with a smiling red panda, also known as Boo Seungkwan. “Good morning, (Y/n). How are you this fine morning?” “My back is still hurting from yesterday, that’s where they landed the most kicks and punches, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Other than that, I’m fine, how are you?” “I’m good, do you want to stop by and get a coffee on the way? We’re not in a hurry or anything,” “Yeah I’d like that,” “Let’s go! I’ll text DK to tell him to meet us there” Seungkwan and DK were two of the few none predators in the group so (Y/n) naturally felt a connection to them, mostly though it was because of their kind and easy-going personalities. 

* At the college campus * 

Hoshi, Seungcheol, Jihoon, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Vernon, Dino, Jun, Jeonghan, Joshua, and Minghao were the 11 chosen to handle this confrontation. Joshua, Wonwoo, and Minghao were mainly there to be mediators, they are the best at staying level headed in these situations whilst most of the others prefer to act first and think second. Those three could definitely fight if they needed to, but they preferred a more civil way of solving problems when possible. The group moved almost as one as they stalked toward the group sitting around a table in the backyard of the college. Anyone who saw them quickly moved out of their way and hoped the group wasn’t heading for them as their auras screamed authority and anger. As Hoshi and Seungcheol, who had been leading the group, came to a stop in front of the bullies they both cleared their throats to announce their presence - though the bullies had already heard them and seen them. The leader of their group, Hanbin, turned around and tried to sound confident as he faced the tiger and the wolf. “What?” Hoshi growled at him, showing off his fangs, Cheol did the same thing before he nudged Hoshi’s arm. “I heard that you’ve been bullying (Y/n), I’m giving you one chance to admit it right now, if you do that and then apologize to her and then promise to leave her alone, I’ll forget about it. But if you don’t,” Hoshi paused before he once again showed off his fangs, and his sharp claws, before also looking to his sides where 10 0f his friends stood all glaring at Hanbin and his group. “Well, I don’t think you want to know what would happen then,” Hoshi finished by giving him a smile so fake even a blind person could have seen it. Hanbin wanted to seem like he wasn’t scared, but anyone could tell that he was literally shaking in fear. It was natural really, Hanbin was a domestic dog breed and he was facing a wolf hybrid with a very strong alpha aura, a furious tiger hybrid, and 9 other scary guys who could easily take on anyone in his own group without breaking a sweat. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll apologize. Please, just don’t hurt us,” Hanbin got down on his knees begging for forgiveness. “Call, DK, and Boo, and tell them it’s safe to bring her to campus now,” Seungcheol instructed as he still glared at Hanbin. Joshua called up the pair who was supposed to keep (Y/n) occupied and away from campus in case the meeting took a turn for the worse.

* At the café *

“(Y/n), (Y/n), how about we go shopping tomorrow? I saw a really pretty dress the other day that I think would look super good on you for the ball,” Just as (Y/n) was about to answer DK, Seungkwan’s phone rang on the table, the ID showing it was Joshua. “Hey Shua-hyung, mm okay. Alright, yes, the backyard. Yes, mm. We’re coming, bye-bye,” Dokyeom and (Y/n) looked at Seungkwan with curious eyes, “The meeting is over, they want us to come to the backyard of campus so that those idiots can apologize to you,” (Y/n) nodded. Even though she didn’t really want to meet them she knew that this was part of their punishment from Hoshi. So the trio got up from their table and began walking to campus, it wasn’t too far. They would be there in 5 minutes. “Did Joshua say anything about whether or not they actually got in a fight?” “No, but he seemed calm so I don’t think they had to fight,” “That’s good then,” As the trio came closer to their group of friends they all saw the group who had been bullying (Y/n) kneeling on the ground in front of their friends with embarrassed looks on their faces. “Baby!” Hoshi turned around as soon as he heard the trio’s footsteps and ran up to them to envelop his girlfriend in a hug and peppered her face with kisses. No, Hoshi was not scared of showing affection in public - he’s territorial, and he actually loves doing it. “There are some people here who have something to say to you,” Hoshi walked toward the kneeling group with (Y/n) as he kept an arm around her waist. As they stopped right in front of Hanbin, Hoshi once again cleared his throat to signal Hanbin to start his apology. “I’m so sorry (Y/n). I’ve behaved like an idiot, and I’m so sorry for everything I have said and done to you. I don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, that’s how insignificant I am because of what I have done. I promise to become a better person and I will never ever bother you again,” Hanbin spoke with a waver in his voice, not because he didn’t mean what he said, but because he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough for Hoshi to let him go. “Thank you for apologizing. I’m glad you’re going to stop bullying me, and anyone else, but I won’t forgive you. What you did to me wasn’t okay, I’m glad you realise it too but I can’t just forgive you. Because you’re only apologizing out of fear for my boyfriend and our friends, not because you realized that your actions were wrong on your own. Because of that, I can’t forgive you,” Hoshi was proud of (Y/n) for speaking so confidently and expressing her own anger with the hybrid who had bullied her. Never before had she been this sure or confident in front of someone who wasn’t Hoshi. Having him and the other 12 boys with her made her feel safe enough to actually speak her mind. Cheol looked over at Hoshi with a questioning look to which Hoshi answered with a nod. “Now scatter. If I hear about any of you saying or doing anything malicious to anyone ever again, I’ll come for you,” Seungcheol growled out a threatening warning to the group to which they all cowered away, and as soon as they stood up they ran away. 

“There, now you don’t have to worry about them anymore. Also, (Y/n), darling, I know I might seem annoying for this but please don’t go anywhere on your own anymore. My heart can’t take any more worrying about you. It doesn’t have to be me but just bring at least one of us with you, please. I don’t want you to get hurt,” “Alright if it makes you feel better. It actually makes me feel safer too,” Soonyoung gently put one of his hands on one of (Y/n)’s cheeks before leaning in and giving her a loving kiss. “I love you,” “I love you too,” “Horanghae,” (Y/n) just giggled at her boyfriend as he made a cute face and pose to go with his personalized I love you.

Please reblog! Also, requests are open! 

[seungkw1]

the truth is out there — csc [TEASER]

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader ♡ theme: x-files au ♡ teaser wc: 1.5k ♡ warnings: none ♡ a/n: i started rewatching the x-files recently and the idea of this popped into my head so i simply had to write it!! also, y/ln refers to ‘your last name’ bc ya know. agent stuff.

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

When you joined the FBI you didn’t expect to end up working in the basement with a peculiar agent obsessed with all things extraterrestrial, but your new assignment is certainly taking you places you’ve never been before.

👽 full fic out now 👽

10 September 1993 Washington, D.C.

taptaptap

The light knocking on your desk pulls your focus away from the almost-completed report on the screen of your monitor. Most would call report writing the boring part of the job, and while you don’t necessarily disagree your high levels of attentiveness allow you to efficiently plug away at the otherwise mind-numbing task - so, you don’t mind it so much. That is, unless you are interrupted. 

“Hey Frenchie, the Bergmeister wants to see you.” 

Stifling a sigh, you look up at your bothersome coworker, Soonyoung, who is currently leaning over your desk while eating a sandwich. You grimace as you see the multitude of crumbs he’s managed to drop all over your paperwork in the five seconds he’s been standing there.

“What does he want?” you ask, not bothering to hide your exasperation.

“Didn’t say,” he mumbles through the large bite he just stuffed into his mouth.

The Bergmeister is the inane moniker Soonyoung and his pals call your supervisor, Assistant Director Bergman, behind his back. Frenchie is the irritating nickname nearly half the office now calls you, to your face, due to an unfortunate incident involving French dressing and the light gray pantsuit you chose to wear on your very first day on the job. You figured they’d get tired of it after a few days, but that was several weeks ago at this point - and much to your chagrin it seems to have stuck.

You give Soonyoung a very obviously fake grin to accompany your obviously sarcastic response. “Thank you, Agent Soonyoung - helpful as always.”

Soonyoung winks at you. “For you? Anytime.” You imagine grabbing his sandwich and bopping it on his head. 

The muted sounds of landlines ringing, keyboards clacking, and fax machines whirring drift past your ears as you walk steadily to Bergman’s office, maintaining a false air of confidence as to mask your anxiety. You’ve never been called into his office alone in the month and a half you’ve worked for the FBI - you quickly leaf through your mind for anything you’ve done that could be a potential mistake, but you come up empty handed. 

Bergman’s door is ajar - you rap your knuckle against it twice as you step inside. He peers up at you through thick, round lenses. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes, come in, have a seat - and shut the door behind you.”

The heavy door closes with a deep thunk. As you lower yourself into the chair facing the desk you notice you’re joined by a man you’ve never seen before. He says nothing, but looms in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette. 

“I’ll spare you the bullshit, y/ln,” Bergman starts. He looks more tired than usual. “Have you heard of the bureau’s division known as the ‘x-files’?”

You feel your normally stoic face contort into a confused expression. Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“Well, yes, sir… but isn’t that an unofficial department?”

He takes a sip from his styrofoam cup of coffee. “Correct - it’s not official, but I assure you it is very much a ‘functional’ operation.” He all but rolls his eyes at functional. 

You shoot a glance at the unintroduced man in the corner, but he remains expressionless. Bergman continues. 

“I’m sure by now you’re well aware of the reputation surrounding this subsect and its…proprietor, shall we say.”

You give a single nod. By your second day in the office you’d heard all about the x-files: cases allegedly involving aliens, the supernatural, and all sorts of nonsense you chalked up to pure baloney. You’d also learned of the lone employee who spearheads the whole operation from the bureau basement: Agent Choi. Nobody seems to take him, or it, seriously - so much so that you had begun to doubt if it was even a real department, and if Choi even existed. But apparently, the rumors were true. 

“I am not at liberty to discuss the reasons behind this decision,” Bergman tells you, “but all you need to know is that this assignment is significant in nature.”

Assignment?? Surely he doesn’t mean…

“I’m not sure I understand,” you ask hesitantly, “am I-”

“Being assigned to the x-files? Yes.”

Your stomach lurches. You open your mouth to inquire what exactly it is you’ve done wrong, but clearly he anticipated this exact response. 

“This is not a punishment - though I certainly know why it might seem that way. But, it’s imperative that we receive reliable insight into the operations of this endeavor.”

You sit there in silence for a few seconds, dumbfounded. “So, you’re asking me to spy on Agent Choi.”

Bergman waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I know how this sounds. And essentially - yes, you will be our eyes and ears into this otherwise elusive project. Choi will know we’re sending you there to report back to us, but we don’t care. We are confident you will succeed in providing us with useful information.”

You wait for him to go on, to elaborate in any capacity, but apparently he’s finished. 

“Alright then, so when do I-”

“Immediately,” Bergman interjects. You purse your lips, trying to hide your displeasure. 

“Yes sir,” you reply as respectfully as you can muster. 

“Great. We’re counting on you, y/ln.” You glance once more at the smoking man in the corner, but he remains silent. 

“Dismissed.”

You walk out of Bergman’s office, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. You have the misfortune of passing Soonyoung’s desk on the way back to yours - he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something annoying again, but you briskly zoom past him before he can get a word out. You make a beeline for your desk, grabbing only your purse and coffee cup before heading toward the elevator. 

X-files, here I come, I fucking guess. 

—

Your eyes take a few seconds to adjust as you step into the dim basement. The elevator doesn’t come down to this level - you spent a good 10 minutes trying to locate the correct stairwell that would even bring you here. You make your way through a seemingly endless hallway of dusty filing cabinets, forgotten boxes, and broken computers before you find yourself in front of a nondescript door, not quite shut - the only thing signifying that you’ve arrived at your destination being the makeshift paper name plate with S. Choi written in ink. You raise your fist to knock but before you can do so you hear a voice call out from inside. 

“Come in.”

You push the door in, its hinges giving you a high-pitched squeeeeak as it opens. You make a mental note to find some WD-40. 

The sad excuse for an office is equally dim-lit as the hallway, but it’s a sight to behold: a desk at the center of the room - neat, but stacked with newspapers and case files, a small lamp lighting up the open file in the desk’s center; a bookshelf nearly reaching the ceiling, overflowing with books on seemingly every topic under the sun; archival boxes stacked as tall as the numerous filing cabinets, which are also topped with more archival boxes; a massive bulletin board filled with articles and photos; but most notably, pinned the wall, is a poster featuring a flying saucer, accompanied with the text I WANT TO BELIEVE.

In the bizarre room sits a dark-haired man typing at his computer, his back to you. 

“I presume you heard me coming,” you state. 

“From a mile away,” he replies, still typing. 

You wait for him to turn around, say hello, anything - but the clickclack of his keyboard continues.

Several seconds pass, but the man says nothing. Apparently, it’s on you to break the silence.

You sigh under your breath. “I’m Agent y/ln, I’ve been-”

“Assigned to the x-files to spy on me?” he interrupts, eyes still glued to the monitor. 

“They told me you’d know that,” you admit. 

The typing stops. Choi turns around, the heavy desk chair giving an unpleasant creak as he leans his elbow over its back, finally facing you. His appearance takes you by surprise: strong eyebrows, plump red lips, soft dark-brown eyes - you weren’t expecting to find such a handsome face attached to the man with a reputation for being a “crazy UFO freak”, in the words of your coworkers. He’s much younger than you anticipated too, around your age - and seemingly so… normal. His eyes do a quick scan of your figure - his expression barely changes, but a quick flash of interest tells you you’re not exactly what he expected either. It is extinguished almost immediately. 

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” His tone is passive, but you detect a hint of somberness in his words. His warm eyes lock onto yours. 

“Name’s Choi, but I’m sure you already knew that. You can call me Seungcheol, though.” If it was anyone else, you’d think it was flirtatious in nature - but you can tell that was not his intention.

“Okay. Well, Choi, what exactly am I to do here?”

An eager grin lights up his face. He rises from his chair, grabs a case file off the pile on his desk, and opens it - throwing it back down onto the desk, facing you.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

—

a/n: thank you for reading this teaser!! i'm v excited for this one :) reblogs, comments, or any kind of feedback are all greatly appreciated &lt;3

[cherries-jubileee]

when you're lost in the darkness. . .

pairing : kwon soonyoung x reader

au : the last of us

summary : seoul falls first to the infection, and five years is too long for one man to be alone.

cw : canon-typical violence (for tlou), character death, mentions of infection/viruses, hurt/comfort, also hurt/no comfort, the crushing weight of being alone in the apocalypse, mentions of blood/gore

wc : 8.3k

day zero

year one of the outbreak

soonyoung is slouched over the kitchen counter when you walk out of the bedroom that morning, desperately trying to figure out how to use your new keurig as quietly as possible. it’s far earlier in the morning than you’re used to, having to be wide awake before the sun has fully risen, but the law firm that’s hired you on is well-known and respectable, and you want to make a good impression. this new schedule, you tell yourself, is only temporary, and you’d be able to afford to sleep in just a little more a few months down the line.

“soonyoungie, you should be in bed right now,” you say, finally, after several moments of watching your partner struggle to find the power button to your coffee-maker. soonyoung doesn’t jump or act surprised that you’ve been standing behind him, but you note that he looks only the slightest bit apologetic, “the physician said you needed to be resting as much as possible, i know i’m not the only person who heard that.”

you don’t feel bad when his lips pull into a tired pout – you’ve been desensitized to it at this point – but perhaps your heart aches a little when he plays with the laces of his hoodie and mumbles, “but i wanted to make you coffee for your first day at work.”

soonyoung looks precious like this, in your opinion, and your opinions are very rarely objectively wrong; you don’t know when he rolled out of bed after you got up to shower, but he’s still sleep-warmed and half-asleep, snuggled into a well-worn hoodie you remember gifting him before you had even officially started dating. he’s barefooted, which, on the kitchen tile floors, can’t exactly be pleasant, but he doesn’t seem perturbed by it at all. the only thing ruining your domestic view of your boyfriend has to be the rough, wet cough that comes from him the next time he opens his mouth, quickly shoving his face into his elbow as the coughing fit wracks his body. whatever he meant to say before is lost between the both of you, and you flit around the kitchen restlessly to get him a glass of water.

“i know, it’s miserable,” you tell him, after the coughing has stopped and he’s taken the glass from your hands, “i’m very happy that you wanted to send me off today, but it’s super early, and i know you don’t feel well right now. did you already check your temperature while i was getting ready?”

soonyoung nods, but knowing the look in his eyes, he isn’t pleased with the answer. “still have a fever,” he rasps, and when you raise your hand to press it against his forehead, smoothing his hair from his face, he leans into you without hesitation.

disappointment and worry pull your lips into a frown. “you are still a little warm.” it’s not new information, but you don’t like admitting it. already, it’s been a week since soonyoung was exiled from the company building until he got better, and only three days since he’d developed that nasty cough. his symptoms weren’t dire, you were well aware of that, but that didn’t make you worry any less over his well being. soonyoung is still pallid, his face uncharacteristically puffy and tender – you remember that the doctor had brushed it off, claiming it was nothing more than lymph node inflammation from some kind of virus; he’d sent soonyoung home with anti-inflammatories, and instructions to remain rested and hydrated. this was the first day you would be gone at work full-time, and you were already fretting over how soonyoung would fair being left by himself. “go back to bed, and call me when you wake up.”

soonyoung hums. “alright, take care.”

“and if you start to feel worse, just tell me and i’ll come straight home.”

“okay.” 

“and make sure to eat something. your appetite probably isn’t what it usually is, but you should still try and eat.”

“got it.”

“if you want, i can have something delivered –”

“babe.” soonyoung’s groan is slightly muffled by his hoodie, his hands coming up to your arms to pull you back, “do you even want this job? you’re gonna be late.”

checking your phone, you curse when you realise he’s right. if you wanted to make it to the firm before you were officially late, you would have to leave now. “alright, alright, i’m going. i love you. and i’m serious about you calling me if you need anything, okay?”

you don’t wait for an answer, even though soonyoung is still nodding as you lean up and press a kiss to the side of his head, pull back and, upon further consideration, kiss his cheek again for good measure. soonyoung sees you out as far as the door, leaning from the threshold and waving at you as you hurry down the hallway. you turn to him for the last time as you reach the elevator, blowing him another flurry of air kisses until the elevator dings, and the door opens. he watches you disappear from view, slowly closing the door in front of him.

the trip back to bed, now that the house is empty, feels infinitely longer than it should have. he can still hear the television murmuring quietly from when you turned it on; you like to absently listen to the news while you get ready in the mornings. admittedly, there aren’t many days where you are gone, and soonyoung is home alone. most days, you were both gone until late into the afternoon – soonyoung, at practice and in the studio, and you, at school. the most recent turn of events had been your graduation from law school, which gave you an uncanny few weeks off while you were still interviewing for a job.

you’d called it boring, mainly. ‘it was a lot of sitting around and doing nothing,’ you’d told him one night, eating dinner together at the coffee table, ‘mostly, it was a lot of waiting.’

it isn’t the same, but soonyoung wonders if this is what you felt like every day when he left for work, leaving you home alone for long hours at a time.

the sun is high in the sky when soonyoung is awake enough to think critically again. waking up early enough to send you off while he was sick as a dog wasn’t his smartest idea, but going right back to sleep makes him feel slightly more human than before. he’s not entirely sure what time it is – and he doesn’t check, seeing as his phone is on his nightstand, which is all the way across the bed from where he’s laying.

he doesn’t dwell on it, crawling into your side of the bed and wrapping the blankets around him tightly. you’re probably going to kill him when you find out he slept here, him and all of his germs, but he knows it’ll be worth it, the scent of your shampoo still lingering on the soft coolness of your silk pillowcase. the television acts as some sort of glorified white noise machine, lulling him to sleep before soonyoung even has a chance to set an alarm for later in the day. truthfully, he wouldn’t need it; he wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long, long time.

soonyoung knows he should probably listen to what you told him earlier and eat something, and yet he stays in bed, staring blankly at the television as it moves through sports headlines. his eyes are still partially glued shut, and his throat feels dry. he almost swears that he can feel your charger cable plastered to his back, but makes no move to pull it out from under him.

he thinks about eating again, and the thought only serves to make him more nauseous – maybe, if he tried, he could get away with nibbling on some crackers without feeling like his stomach might explode.

one could only hope.

soonyoung’s lament doesn’t last long, promptly interrupted as his phone vibrates against his nightstand. soonyoung weighs his two options: one, it’s from the company, in which case he very much could have ignored it and he moved for nothing; two, it’s from you, and if he doesn’t pick up the call in the next fifteen seconds you’re going to be on the phone with paramedics before soonyoung has the chance to call you back. he doesn’t take the time to deliberate over which one would be worse, because he’s squirming into a sitting position and reaching for his phone before he can decide.

luckily, it’s just you. soonyoung only thinks it’s a little strange that you’re calling him at – he checks the clock on his phone – 1:38 pm on your very first day at work.

“hey, you,” he manages to mumble out, holding the phone to his ear even as he leans back into his mass of pillows, scratching the side of his jaw, “you have good timing. i just woke up.” he hears you laugh from over the phone, but it doesn’t give him the same satisfaction that it usually does.

“hey, young-ah,” you say, and normally, soonyoung would preen at the nickname, despite the fact that you have dozens for him. today, he doesn’t – he isn’t sick enough to not notice the tremble in your voice, or the fact that you sound like you’ve been gasping for air. “how are you? are you still at home?”

“of course.” maybe it sounds worse than it is. soonyoung is prone to dramatics, including the self-inflicted. “been sleeping the day away, mostly.”

“okay.” you sound far away now, like you’ve set your phone on your lap, “listen, something came up earlier, so i’m…i got seungcheol to pick me up, and mingyu is here, too. i’m on my way home right now.” he hears a distant ‘hi, hyung’ coming from the other side of the call, and almost doesn’t have the thought to greet mingyu in return.

soonyoung expects the worst – that maybe your alleged boss had reconsidered your application and hadn’t been able to tell you before you got there; maybe some sort of tragedy had happened to one of the workers, enough to where the entire office had been shut down, employees sent home.

as curious as he is, and god does he want to know every juicy detail, soonyoung instead stretches himself onto his back, half-buried in your pillows, and asks, “are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you say, your voice coming out quicker than he had expected, “i can’t explain it right now, just – turn left right here, cheol – i’ll tell you as soon as i get home, i promise.”

“what are you talking about?”

“soonyoung, i can’t – there’s not enough time to explain it right now.” soonyoung sees the ‘breaking news’ title card scroll across the screen of your tv as you pause, “i’ll tell you everything, i promise. do you remember where i put my old bookbag after i graduated?”

there’s not enough time for soonyoung to process what you’re asking him when he starts reading the scrolling headlines at the bottom of the screen. “i think so…”

“can you take it out for me? i just need somewhere to store the important things before we go.”

from the other side of the line, soonyoung can hear seungcheol talking, just over the sound of traffic around you. “we don’t have that much time. just get soonyoung-ah and come back down…”

“we can’t assume we’re coming back, cheol. he’s still really sick, and if he happens to get worse while we’re gone, i don’t want to be unprepared for it.”

“gone?” soonyoung parrots, feeling utterly confused, “baby, why aren’t you telling me what’s going on? why are we leaving?”

you seem to suddenly realise that your boyfriend is on the other end of the line, sucking in a sharp breath that the receiver only vaguely picks up. “soonyoung, we’re almost there, please, let me explain everything in person–”

“what even is cordyceps?! why is it all over the news, they’re talking about it like it’s the end of the world!”

“baby, i–”

“i know, you’ll tell me when you get home, but if it’s actually important that we leave as soon as possible–”

“cheol, there’s a shortcut up here–”

“–then i can pack everything you need and meet you in the lobby–”

“no!” you seem almost surprised as he is that you raised your voice, “no, soonyoung, please don’t. it’s not – it’s not safe right now, everyone is acting crazy and you’re not at one-hundred percent health. please, please tell me you’ll stay inside until i get home.”

soonyoung has never heard you beg before, and that alone is enough to chill him straight through the bone. he agrees without any more fuss, putting the phone on speaker and leaving it in bed, even as he paces nervously around the room, wrestling out of his clothes and pulling fresh ones out of his closet, trying to dress as quickly as possible. it’s only jeans and a worn, oversized sweatshirt, but it’s better than nothing.

you haven’t stopped speaking, but soonyoung knows you aren’t talking to him. everything you say is a little too far away, a little too vague to make out. he hears other voices – mingyu, seungcheol – and you can only truly be talking to those two now. there’s an occasional softness in your voice, when you sound the most far away, that makes soonyoung think that you’re turning your head to murmur reassurances to mingyu, who has always been a bit of a scaredy-cat. soonyoung imagines that he’ll tease him about it later, when he no longer has a laundry list of questions keeping him from comforting his dongsaeng.

“baby,” soonyoung mumbles, grabbing his phone and cradling it in his hands, “how far out are you?”

“not far at all, young-ah.” you sound so unsure, but soonyoung lets you pretend you’re hiding it well, “just a few blocks, i can see our apartment building–”

the crash doesn’t register with soonyoung until you’re screaming over the phone; the crunch of metal folding like paper and the shattering of glass so fine it sounds like rain; a frenzy of deep, sharp shrieks as soonyoung imagines the car flipping once, twice; your voice is so far away now, but you’re screaming louder than ever, desperation and terror sending you into hysteria as you sob and wail ‘mingyu-ah! mingyu!’ until your voice begins to crack with use. soonyoung is yelling with you, shouting your name, “what happened, what happened?! are you okay? is everyone okay? talk to me! baby, i need you to talk to me!”

soonyoung is helpless to do anything other than listen, your heartbroken cries punctuated only by the scrape and crumble of glass, piercing his heart and nearly sending him into a panicked spiral. soonyoung only thinks to grab his phone at the last second before standing up and bolting to the front door. he’s already been thinking about how much time it would take for him to get downstairs using the stairs and into the street before he’d be able to find you. you’d said on the phone that you could see your apartment building just before you crashed – surely you were close enough to reach on foot.

soonyoung struggles with the laces on his sneakers, and tries not to think about seungcheol’s bmw flipped over onto its roof in the middle of seoul, with his partner hanging upside-down in the front seat.

“soonyoung-ah…”

your voice creaks as you call his name, and soonyoung nearly dives for his phone, clutching it in both hands as he holds it up to his face. if he stares hard enough through the screen, perhaps your likeness would appear in front of him – despite the fact that you despised using video call, and would avoid it like the plague if you could help it.

“you’re okay,” a deep, gentle voice hums from the other end of the line; it’s seungcheol, and soonyoung could almost cry in relief that he’s okay, “you’re okay, i got you. hold on to me so i can get you down.”

“soonyoung-ah…” you’re crying harder now, choking on your tears as something metallic clicks in the background and the shuffling begins, only to end just as quickly as seungcheol’s voice mumbles quiet, undecipherable comfort to you.

soonyoung is quick to open his mouth, desperate to say ‘i’m here, i’m still here, i’ll come down to you. stay there, be safe, i love you.’ 

“soonyoungie,” you sob again – soonyoung has never heard you cry this much in the near-decade he’s known you, and his heart leaps to his throat, “don’t come - don’t come down here.”

“don’t say that to me.” soonyoung finally finds his voice, though the words are hard to force out, “don’t tell me to do that. jus-just don’t move, okay? soonyoungie will come downstairs and find you and seungcheol-hyung and mingyu-ah, and then we’ll all go together. how’s that sound?”

“no, you can’t.” if soonyoung could see you, he imagines you would be shaking your head at him, “please, i’m begging you. it’s not safe.”

it feels like there’s glass scraping at the inside of soonyoung’s skull – the headache from earlier is coming back, full force. “baby, i don’t understand–”

“i’m telling you not to come downstairs!” you shout, “don’t come down here, soonyoung! don’t come–”

day one-thousand nine-hundred and seventy

the call cuts before you can finish, his phone screen lighting up to show him his background – it’s supposed to be a photo he took with you after seventeen’s first win, except he’s cropped himself out, leaving only your smiling face behind. soonyoung sits in the new silence that blankets your shared apartment. on the street below, chaos erupts, the everyday humdrum of the city shattering as the apocalypse begins in the heart of south korea.

five years, five months, twenty-five days after the outbreak

mold has started growing on the walls of the apartment. it’s the first of many signs that soonyoung will eventually have to pack up and leave – the sooner the better.

this mold isn’t cordyceps, which can’t survive outside of the body for more than an hour, but it’s fungi, and he’s aware of the health risks posed against him should he cohabitate with it for too long. he can’t afford to get sick. there’s no one here to watch his back.

soonyoung misses you more than anything.

he wakes up cold, curled tight into a ball within his sleeping bag. lying on his side, staring into the decrepit, ransacked room, there’s a sliding glass door on the adjacent wall, half-obscured by torn, fluttering curtains. it’s his only exit from the ground floor apartment, so he’d attempted to leave it exactly as he’d seen it before – sitting half-open with one side of the curtains drawn, the rest sitting in a sopping heap on the floor.

he’d spent most of the night watching the door, listening for the tiniest movements, before he eventually let exhaustion drag him into sleep.

for a sunny day in march – and soonyoung at least thinks it’s march – the cold bites like a wild animal. it had rained yesterday, a searing downpour that lasted most of the afternoon, and now a dense, heavy chill sat low on the city. the wind makes it even worse, but soonyoung at least hopes his windbreaker would be enough to keep him from freezing while he scrounged for supplies.

seoul might as well have been a barren wasteland at this point. while the vast majority of the population had escaped the confines of the city during the first hours of the outbreak – soonyoung can imagine many were attempting to reach the coast and escape the country by water – few stragglers still roamed the city streets. even after five years, soonyoung’s never seen anyone closer than fifty meters away, though he wasn’t naive enough to assume there weren’t people who would harm him; with how few people still stubbornly called the city home, supplies were fewer, and soonyoung’s food situation was looking dismal.

it was time to get creative.

normal grocery stores or shopping malls were out of the question – it was suicide, if not for other survivors willing to fight him for whatever scraps they may find, then for the infected. the worst of the hordes drifted out of the city within the first few months of the outbreak, leaving behind an eerie, false silence. the infected, albeit still numerous in the city, became something of an afterthought compared to the risks posed by other human survivors.

produce was a luxury only found in the occasional garden, sometimes growing wild in city parks, and perishable goods were completely out of the question. soonyoung would instead have to rely on looting abandoned homes to look for anything still edible. in previous years, as a man still holding onto the slim hope that help was coming, it would have been soonyoung’s last resort; now, there was nothing left but to assume that he was on his own, and he’d have to act like it. anything not nailed down was free game.

by midday, soonyoung was crossing the han river into dongjak-gu, picking his way through the graveyard of broken cars still stuck on the road. they were likely abandoned in the initial panic to get out of the city – the city’s power grid had stayed on for a week after the outbreak, and every channel on tv was broadcasting the same emergency news, telling citizens to head south, as far south as possible. it’s hard not to wonder how many of them actually made it that far, but it’s an unpleasant thought that soonyoung pushes from his mind as quickly as he can.

he’s is only a third of the way across the bridge when he starts to hear the clicking. it’s not the first time soonyoung has heard it, but it’s one of the only time he’s ever been this close to the source. it was atypical for clickers to congregate in groups outside, where their echolocation was less dynamic.

it meant good things for him, because it meant he’d be able to sneak past them with less trouble that usual. he wasn’t prepared for a fight; soonyoung only carried one weapon with him – a mean-looking hunting knife that he rarely used in self-defense. if it really came down to it, running for his life was really his only option.

soonyoung steps out carefully from behind the row of cars he was huddled behind, and immediately realises he’s made a terrible mistake. at the sound of his canvas sneakers hitting the asphalt, ten heads turn his way, half-muddled eyes training on him through the haze. a quiet, biting ‘fuck!’ leaves his lips, and soonyoung takes his one option without an ounce of hesitation.

he sprints down the remaining length of the bridge like he’s a runner on his final leg, finally putting his foot on the gas after taking it easy through the last turn. the shrieking doesn’t let up behind him – if anything, it grows closer, closer, until it’s nipping at the backs of his heels. soonyoung’s lungs burn and his legs shriek with exertion, but he doesn’t stop. he can’t stop, desperation fuelling his adrenaline that much more, breath coming out in rushed gasps. there’s a pileup at the intersection not one-hundred meters in front of him, if he can just get there, get up and over, maybe he can break their line of sight, disappear in the rubble.

it’s not a good plan, but it’s better than no plan, and it’s all soonyoung has time to come up with before the shrieking behind him is suddenly in his ear, the weight taking him to the ground as the infected clambers over him.

soonyoung has never seen one this close before, never been under one as it fights against his hands restraining it, broken fingernails digging into his arms and rotted, black teeth snapping in his face. he doesn’t know where the rest of its group is, doesn’t hear any cacophonous sounds of his impending doom over the sound of his own heartbeat.

he needed to push it off, needed to reach for his knife and sink it into the decaying bone of its skull, but there was no way he could hold it with one hand. the lack of sustenance wasn’t helping soonyoung’s case – he was weak, no longer the energy-ridden dancer he used to be, and while he still retained what was left of his stamina from the years before the outbreak, it was nothing if he couldn’t defend himself in a pinch.

soonyoung is sure he’s going to die here when the shrieking stops faster than he can process it, a sharp bang echoing through the empty streets. the infected slumps into his hold, and soonyoung’s arms finally fail him. he gasps for air, shivering on the ground; he can’t tell if it’s from the cold or pure adrenaline. there’s blood splattered on his face, and soonyoung can smell the iron in the air, clogging his senses.

the infected has a bullet wound drilling straight through its temple and out the other side, dripping blood all over soonyoung’s windbreaker.

he pushes the body away, rolling it to the side and sitting up, scanning the street for the shooter. with so many cars in the way, it was hard to see anything at all. none of the other infected were coming after him – had they also been taken out? was he being watched right now? it didn’t matter, he was losing daylight, he needed to move if he wanted to eat tonight.

“soonyoung-ah?”

it can’t be who he thinks it is. soonyoung is five years younger in an instant, sitting on the floor of his – your – otherwise empty apartment, feeling the weight of the world settle on his shoulders. he hadn’t wanted it then, but he’d been able to carry it with him, every ounce of that grief and anger, because he knew it would keep him alive.

a pair of worn hiking boots plod into the corner of his vision, and soonyoung looks down the barrel of a shotgun at one choi seungcheol.

five years have passed since soonyoung had last seen him, but seungcheol still looks every bit of the leader that he was before, if not a little rough around the edges. there was no faulting him in that, not with the way the world is now.

“hyung,” soonyoung mumbles, feeling his eyes prickle with tears, and seungcheol’s reaction is near instantaneous, hanging the shotgun off of his shoulder and pulling soonyoung into a rough, blazing hug. soonyoung’s face is tucked tightly into his shoulder, a familiar hand buried into the choppy black hair at the back of his head. soonyoung can still hear his heart pounding in his ears. seungcheol is shaking against him, though quiet. it’s uncanny. soonyoung doesn’t remember ever seeing seungcheol become so emotional before.

soonyoung isn’t doing much better, pressing his face farther into seungcheol’s jacket. his tears are beginning to soak through the material, but cheol doesn’t pull away. he makes no move that proves he even notices, which soonyoung only has the energy to be tangentially grateful for.

“seungcheol?” a woman’s voice echoes through the streets from behind soonyoung – it’s unfamiliar, not one he recognises, “who is that?”

it takes a herculean effort for seungcheol to pull soonyoung away from him, and when he does he pushes him gently to turn around, presenting his find to an older woman with a serious face, who stares at soonyoung critically. briefly, it takes him back to his trainee days, and soonyoung would be a liar if he said he wasn’t almost missing those formidable years; they were, in most ways, awful, but in the very least he hadn’t been alone, hadn’t been made to fend for himself.

“this,” seungcheol starts, pressing a strong hand against his shoulder, “is soonyoung. he’s one of the friends we lost – thought we lost – when everything went to shit.”

soonyoung feels like his head is floating through space, and he tries not to think too hard about seungcheol’s word choice in the latter half of his statement.

the woman doesn’t speak for a long time, simply levelling soonyoung with an expression he can’t quite read. she’s silent for perhaps another thirty seconds – though it could have been several minutes – before she sighs and gestures them both along.

“come on, then,” she grunts, “we’re too far into the city as it is. we might as well head back before it starts to get dark.”

soonyoung learns that the woman’s name is julkyung, and that she’d met seungcheol’s group two and a half months ago during a supply run into the city. she tells him that their group doesn’t live in the city – that a small group of them are holed up outside the city as they gather supplies for the coming winter months. she doesn’t tell him where their real camp is or why they have to come all the way to seoul for what they need, and soonyoung doesn’t ask.

seungcheol smiles, warm and bright and so, so relieved, and pulls soonyoung along, falling quickly in step behind the older woman.

they walk for an hour down the highway, going south out of the city. seungcheol doesn’t let go of soonyoung’s hand the entire time, occasionally turning to look over the younger man, like he’s searching for something wrong.

“what?”

“nothing.”

“are you sure?

seungcheol flashes him a comforting smile, and soonyoung wants so badly to trust it isn’t forced. “i promise, soonyoung-ah. hyung is just happy that you’re okay.”

julkyung leads them to a break in the highway, where the concrete has crumbled with time, scaling down a lopsided bus held up haphazardly by the untouched road. seungcheol is almost unnecessarily careful as soonyoung slides down the roof, but neither of them say anything – soonyoung is more than willing than to let seungcheol have this if it gives any comfort to his brother.

“how long were you in the city?” soonyoung asks, unsure if his hands were clammy or just wet with rain, “after everything…y’know, i rarely saw other survivors, much less…” he doesn’t finish, but seungcheol seems to understand what he’s searching for immediately.

“we left the city,” he says, “a couple days after the quarantine zone went to shit. they’d blocked off all the city exits, but with all the chaos we were able to slip out. went north for a while and, hm…ran into trouble. we doubled back earlier this fall, passed around the city trying to go south. that’s how we met julkyung and the others.”

“and everyone else?” it’s an idiotic question to ask, because soonyoung doesn’t even want to know the answer, “is everyone okay?”

seungcheol’s grimance tells him everything he needs to know.

“no.” somehow, cheol is calm, bringing a hand up to securely thread his fingers through the short hairs at soonyoung’s nape, “but most of us are, and that’s what’s important right now.” julkyung pushes her way through a swathe of undergrowth, seemingly ignoring them. “come on, we’re almost there.”

the path julkyung had taken them down leads into a clearing, one that looks like it could have been for camping in another era. there are tents scattered across the flattest portion of earth, forming a ring around a fire pit in the middle. there are other people – people that notice them before soonyoung has even laid eyes on them. many flock to greet julkyung once they notice their little group at the edge of the perimeter. most of them don’t notice soonyoung at all, not until cheol is gripping his arm and pulling him to the wayside, around the congregation, and to the circle of tents.

it’s early morning, practically still night, as your small group hikes south of seoul, when soonyoung turns to you and asks a question that makes your stomach drop.

he’s calling for someone, perhaps multiple someones, but soonyoung doesn’t have to guess who. when his eyes meet yours – looking upon you for the first time in what could only be a thousand years – soonyoung crumbles under the weight of the world, and falls into your arms without a moment of hesitation

“what happened to them?”

you don’t respond to him immediately, but soonyoung can feel your discomfort radiate off of you. his hand is laced in yours, and even as you squirm and your skin grows clammy despite the cold, he doesn’t allow you to pull away.

“soonyoung, no,” you mumble, pleading, “i sh - i shouldn’t tell you that. i can’t. it’s bad enough that they’re gone already, isn’t it?”

you can’t see him through the ghost grey of the incoming sunrise, the sky just barely illuminating enough for him to make out your silhouette. you can’t see the way soonyoung’s eyes well with tears at the mention of it, biting at his lips to keep from sobbing again. he should have run out of tears by now.

you’re right. it is already bad enough; enough so that the grief has become a sentient monstrosity that lives and thrives within the hollows of his ribs, a perfect cage to house the creature. soonyoung should grieve, should memorialize the dead in his memory and try to find happiness with the loved ones who are still with him.

soonyoung can’t do that.

he can’t.

you can’t see him, but you can hear him, and you falter as soonyoung stifles his tears and murmurs out a quiet, helpless, “please.”

even so, you’re silent. and who could blame you? what could you even say to him that wouldn’t drag his already tattered soul through glass? you could only imagine how much he had gone through, alone, in the last five years – you couldn’t simply add onto that, let him carry the weight of those deaths with him. they were not his to bear, and yet he begged for them.

“shua was already too far gone when seungcheol and i made it back to the dorms,” you say, quietly, softly, nerves edging your voice as you glance through the trees, “he was infected, i think. i never saw him. nobody did, actually, but we heard him. jeonghan wouldn’t let anybody go into his room when we were packing up to leave.” your eyes peer to the front of the group, where soonyoung knows jeonghan is, talking quietly to seungcheol. there’s an emptiness to him that soonyoung hadn’t been able to place last night. he and shua had practically been soulmates – perhaps that effort was only to protect what was left of him.

soonyoung tries not to think about joshua – beautiful, sweet joshua-hyung – rotting away in his room, skull cracking and splintering open as fungi grows from his brain in swooping branches. even in soonyoung’s imagination, they look like antlers.

the joshua-hyung of his imagination tilts his head into a grievous angle, and clicks at him wildly, making to lunge at him. soonyoung quickly burns that joshua from his mind, squeezing his eyes shut until he sees white.

soonyoung is only partially there as you tell him about wonwoo, who had been bitten protecting chan, how the rest of you tried – god, you tried – to take that arm off in time, to save him, how it was just too much for him. he listens as you tell him that seungkwan had gone alone into a pharmacy to retrieve a medication they needed for jihoon, that nobody had known about spores at the time. you talk about how he changed; as jihoon got better, seungkwan grew more and more sick, until it was clear that there was no hope of him coming back from it. seungcheol was the one to do what was necessary – he was the only one who had the resolve for something like that.

(what you don’t tell him is that jeonghan had begged joshua not to give up, had nearly dragged him out the door kicking and screaming, unwilling to accept leaving him behind. you don’t tell him about the first night, the first sleepless night, sitting outside shua’s door and talking to him, keeping him company as he slowly lost himself in the brain fog. you don’t tell him that chan had curled up at wonwoo’s side for the better part of three days, comforting his hyung as wonwoo grew dimmer and dimmer, until one night he fell asleep and never woke up again. you don’t tell him that chan cried himself hoarse, that your little group had buried wonwoo in a park just outside of the city. you don’t tell him that seungkwan went slowly and painfully, that vernon hid the slow-mounting grief and held firm for his friend until the very end. you don’t tell him that you’d woken up to seungkwan begging for ‘hyung, just do it, just do it please–’ and seungcheol’s responding, thick-voiced ‘i know, hyung is here, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, please forgive me–’’ before the silence set in.)

(you don’t talk about mingyu. soonyoung doesn’t ask.)

you walk together, silent, hands loosely intertwined, for hours, until julkyung is stopping the group next to a small stream to rest and eat. soonyoung doesn’t have an appetite – doesn’t think he could stomach eating even if he tried – and yet you sit beside him quietly, busying yourself by peeling an orange. soonyoung doesn’t want it, he wants you to eat it, if not to give you that tiny ray of happiness, watch it spark in your eyes, but he doesn’t reject it when you begin pushing individual segments into his hand, only after peeling all of the clinging, filmy albedo off of the fruit. you know soonyoung hates the white stuff, hadn’t ever eaten his oranges without spending an inane amount of time making sure they were immaculate, before finishing the entire fruit in a matter of moments.

“young-ah,” you whisper into his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss against the fabric of his sweatshirt, “i love you so much, do you know? and i would do anything to keep you safe.”

“i know,” soonyoung says, because he does – it’s the only thing he knows for certain, outside of his group members – yet he still manages to sound just south of unsure, “i’m going to wash my hands off. they’re - i’m gross right now.”

you mumble after him, something soft and comforting that soonyoung knows would have him melting into you like putty, so it’s a good thing he’s already up, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he reaches the edge of the small creek and submerging his hands inside, sighing at the coldness of the water against his skin. it’s the type of cold that will likely chill him to the bone later, when he least expects it, but for now it’s a comfort. soonyoung doesn’t know the next time they’ll come across clean water until they reach this new camp, if at all.

soonyoung scrubs his hands until the skin is red and raw, until not a speck of dirt remains on them. if it weren’t so cold, he would seriously consider washing his hair. as it was, every follicle would freeze before it had time to dry, and that wasn’t even enough to say that they didn’t have time–

soonyoung’s entire world is turned one-hundred-and-eighty degrees when someone grabs his arm, twisting it around to examine it, forcing his entire body to follow. he’s face to face with julkyung again, but the woman isn’t wearing her usual indifferent facade. she looks at soonyoung as if he’s some sort of wild animal, or a dog with rabies she’s been called to put down.

her hand grips the skin just above a ragged bite scar in his arm. it’s an ugly thing, a pseudo-circular mess of indistinct teeth-marks where a runner had taken him off guard months ago. soonyoung hadn’t even noticed it until hours later, when he was semi-safe in a new hideout, shucking off his layers of clothes until he’d found blood on his long-sleeved shirt. the creature had bitten him through three layers, which would be commendable if soonyoung hadn’t panicked about it for three days straight.

he hadn’t known what to do. he still doesn’t know what to do; the bite is easy enough to forget, but just seeing it every so often is enough to give him anxiety, make him question whether or not the infection might still spread if given the chance.

it hadn’t, but julkyung didn’t know that.

“what the fuck is this?!” she snarls at him, gripping his arm tight enough to bruise, “what the fuck is this! you fucking–”

seungcheol is up the moment he hears the conflict, attempting to put his way between soonyoung and julkyung. “woah, hold on, we don’t have any idea what this means–”

“it means you brought a fucking infected back to my camp!” julkyung cries out, shoving seungcheol back, “what if he’d gotten all the way back to the others before we found out, huh? he could have infected any one of us!”

“don’t be ridiculous!” you hiss, grabbing julkyung’s wrist and ripping her away from soonyoung, holding it with much gentler hands as you inspect it, “this bite isn’t fresh, and soonyoung isn’t infected. if he was, we would be seeing side-effects already, but we’re not!”

with the way julkyung’s face twists up into a snarl, soonyoung is expecting the woman to grow fangs and a set of claws. as it is, he tries not to look at her at all, focusing wholly on your outraged expression, and the way your hand cradles his wrist.

“why are you defending him?!” julkyung sounds an eclectic mess of exasperated and angry, and soonyoung’s chest pushes against your back as you step away from her, right into him. it’s an awkward angle, not that soonyoung cares about awkward anymore, and when something cold presses against his chest, it doesn’t take him long to realise it’s because there’s a rifle hanging off of your shoulder. “we were going to take you people home! you could have a community, an actual life outside of scavenging for scraps!”

“we can still have that,” you say, your voice a placating, deceptive calm, “just not with you people. not if soonyoung isn’t coming.”

soonyoung can’t allow you to say something like that. he spent five years surviving by himself, alone out there – it’s a pain he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. he wants to speak up, spin you around and grab you by your shoulders and say that you can’t do that, he won’t allow you to give up a semblance of civilization for him. selfishly, stupidly, he wonders if you’ll go with him if he’s forced to leave, travel with him for however long you both last.

he won’t do that to you. he would never forgive himself if he were the first to go, and then he thinks, again, that it would never happen to begin with, because his friends – his brothers – would never let him walk that road alone.

“so you’re just going to give it up,” julkyung starts slowly, “for him? for a man you haven’t seen in five years?”

you don’t answer; maybe you feel that you don’t need to. it’s obvious enough what you’re going to choose. from the corner of his eye, soonyoung watches jeonghan tuck his own rifle underneath his arm, hiding only slightly behind seungcheol as he racks a bullet in the chamber.

(the night before, you had bundled soonyoung up in your sleeping bag with you, zipping it closed and curling yourself around him, pressing your face into the prominent bone of his shoulder. “i saw you everywhere we went,” you’d murmured, voice thick with tears. in the frosty half-light of pre-dawn morning, soonyoung could only see a faint outline of your figure entwined with his; even so, he knew that he could map your body blindfolded, trace every subtle feature with the skill only found in the depths of reverence. “i prayed every day that we would find you again, that i could hold you like this and be held once again. and i promised that, should i find you again, i would never let you go.” there’s warmth against soonyoung’s cheeks – he digs himself closer to you and sobs into your hair. “i meant what i said, young-ah. i’ll follow you anywhere, wherever you go.”)

“screw this,” soonyoung hears, a harsh, rasping whisper that comes from behind him, just seconds before a rough hand is grabbing the back of his shirt and throwing him to the ground. he attempts to scoot back, hopefully get his feet under him and stand up, do anything to defend himself, except soonyoung finds his body frozen in place as an older man produces a handgun from the inside of his jacket. “we don’t have time for this, let’s just kill him now and–”

the man gets no chance to finish, sooner interrupted by a deafening bang that seems to shake the very foundation of the earth.

initially, soonyoung is convinced that he was shot, expecting the blooming pain that would come with white-hot metal ripping through his flesh, pressing a hand against his chest to feel for blood. it doesn’t come, though it’s twice as jarring when the man topples sideways in front of him, viscous red pouring from a dime-sized hole in his temple. he trembles briefly from his place in the dirt, before eventually going still, staring into soonyoung with eyes blown wide.

your rifle is no longer slung across your shoulder, now held firmly in your hands, still aimed where the man once was. soonyoung waits for the regret, waits for the shock to set in as you realise you just killed another human being, and yet it never comes. you look at the body in a fluctuating degree of interest, but none of your body language conveyed anything more than mild surprise.

chaos erupts quickly around him. julkyung screams, attempts to grab at your shoulder and whirl you around, one hand grappling for the revolver strapped to her leg. she doesn’t get very far, even as you fumble to hastily rack another bullet – another gunshot crackles through the air, and the tender flesh of julkyung’s neck explodes into visceral bits as the shot tears through her arteries. soonyoung doesn’t have to look to know who the culprit is – he can already see jeonghan stalking forward from the corner of his eye, but sees little else as you grab his collar and drag him back.

julkyung’s sluggishly writhing body is the only thing that stands between what’s left of seventeen and what future lies ahead of them. soonyoung grapples for the knife strapped to his leg, knowing it’s a useless weapon in his circumstance, yet preferring to have at least some chance to defend himself should it come to that.

“none of you move,” seungcheol calls, shooing the others back, until eventually the entire group was moving in step, “not until we’re long gone. we don’t want to kill any more of your people, but if you follow us, we will defend ourselves.”

“they’re going to come after us.”

soonyoung thinks he hears someone snarling at them, spitting vile words or threats or something, but you’re taking him by the arm and pulling him deeper into the woods before he can think about it any longer.

it’s the first time someone has spoken up in hours, and soonyoung recognises the voice to be jeonghan’s.

“they will,” seungcheol says, sounding distant up in the front of the group, “which is why we need to put enough distance between us and them before we set up camp for the night.”

“we should go back to using the watch rotation,” junhui calls from the back, “make sure at least one person is awake to watch for intruders, infected or not.”

“and maybe find somewhere inside to hole up for the night,” vernon mumbles. he’s been quiet, even more so than usual, and soonyoung doesn’t know if it’s because of what transpired earlier, or something that he hadn’t been present for.

there’s a murmur of agreement, and seungcheol quietly starts steering them to what were more populated areas off of the highway. more population means there’s likely to be more infected, but being inside is safer, easier to defend, and will do a better job of blocking out the cold that’s only going to get worse as night falls.

soonyoung thinks he should say something; about the bite, about the implications of his immunity, something, anything. he needs to clear the air, get back on the right track with everybody, as if they’d somehow veered off-course. he opens his mouth, hoping that he would know what to say, and yet nothing comes.

he clamps his mouth shut again. the way his teeth grind together eases the pressure in his skull only minimally, but he doesn’t say anything about it. he’s already put too much pressure on you and the others in the few days he’s been reunited with you.

your hand has migrated from his arm back down to his hand, squeezing intermittently, a reminder of your warmth and your presence right beside him. he squeezes back, if only to feel you squeeze harder.

soonyoung swallows, his throat try and crackling as he searches for the words to say, and without looking, you beat him to it.

“you don’t have to say anything,” you whisper to him, continuing to look ahead, “you need to tell us eventually, soon, but just know that every person in this group will fight for you wholeheartedly. we will never abandon you.”

the ache in his chest doesn’t fade, but soonyoung presses his lips together, and nods. you’ve already proven your loyalty to the group, your devotion to him. wherever you go, wherever you called him to, soonyoung would follow without question.

he would never want for anything but to be by your side.

[craby-bouquet]

The Fashion Show {Crowned Heads}

~part 1~

Lee Seokmin x Reader

Romance, Royal!AU

411 words

Masterlist | svt masterlist | crowned heads masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Prince Seokmin put his sunglasses on the moment he got out of the airplane. Dres Van was always sunny, and Seokmin loved it. 

Waiting for him was a limo, courtesy of the state. A bodyguard held open the door so he could enter, his escort, head butler James, sitting beside him.

"It's not like you to go to a fashion show, highness." He noticed.

Prince Seokmin shrugged, "I'm going for the other princes. Minghao really wanted me to come and Soonyoung and Mingyu will be there too, I always love to see them." He did enjoy fashion, and was sure a fashion show could be fun, but he would have never really thought of going to one himself. If Minghao hadn't called him to ask, he wouldn't have even known about it.

"I heard young prince Chan will be attending too." 

"Oh! I didn't know that. I haven't seen him for so long, how exciting." 

Even after Minghao asked him to come, prince Seokmin hadn’t been sure he should. Sure, he liked fashion, if anything he loved the artform it is. He knew Minghao and Mingyu were always trying their best to wear something great. When he heard other princes were coming, including the busy prince Jeonghan, he decided it might be fun and educational. And now that prince Chan would be there, Seokmin really got excited. He loved spending time with the other princes, but when they all got older they all got busier and less available. especially because most of them were all crown princes. 

Not Seokmin though, his big brother was in line before him, granting Seokmin some more time to spend on things like this.

He had a way better time than he had imagined at first. There had been wonderful designs, he loved how prince Minghao and Mingyu had watched in ecstasy, loved seeing them enjoy themselves. Seokmin had been surprised, and beyond happy to see the princes that attended. Together they had laughed at silly outfits and gasped at pretty ones. 

But one of the designs stood out to him, not only was it very good, but also because at the beginning of the catwalk, from between the curtains, the pretty face of a girl was visible. The second he saw her he noticed she looked nervous, so he figured the amazing design this male model was wearing was made by her. 

He lay awake that night thinking about her and her design.

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