#jihoon imagines

[pasteidolons]

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

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, xu minghao, hong jisoo warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical innacuarcies for the sake of plot progression word count: 16.6k summary: riding the highs and lows coming from the crown ordered raids and sieges, the hwarang find themselves in deeper trouble when mysterious figures begin emerging and demanding something strange- you.

taglist: @hipsdofangirl

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 6𝔱𝔥, 662 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The new year sweeps in not unexpectedly, but with a gust of cold that chills you to your core. Seorabeol sits under a blanket of snow, much like it had when you first arrived a little over a year ago now.  

You finish eating breakfast with the captains a little earlier than they do, you excuse yourself to make them some tea before their morning briefing. Thankfully, the halls remain warm, so you don’t need to worry about the winter chill as you make your way back to the main hall, the smattering of captains sitting around.  

“Thank you,” Eunseok says as you set down a cup for him, a smile on his lips as he wraps his cold fingers around the steaming cup. You make your way around the hall to give the captains their drinks, most giving you a curt but appreciative nod as you do so.

“The monks at this temple have been nice enough to let us stay here this long,” Jihoon calls out, disrupting your thoughts as he speaks to the captains, “but Shoshin is getting crowded.” 

“Especially with all of the new guys coming in,” Mingyu agrees, nodding his head. 

“If we could get a bigger space, that’d be good,” Junhui adds, a tinge to his voice as if he’s thinking about how little room there is to move around these days. “Even in the overflow buildings it’s stuffy.” 

“Most of these kids are nobles too, not accustomed to living like this,” Mingyu sighs, not vouching for them, just knowing it would take some time to acquaint themselves with their newfound home. 

“If we can find somewhere bigger to host us,” Seungkwan says, “I’m sure the newbies would be more appreciative.” 

“What about Bulguksa Temple?” The man sitting next to Youngmin speaks up, glancing over to the map hanging in the front of the room.  

“Bulguksa?” Suh Kangjoon frowns, looking towards the map, “Isn’t that a bit far?” 

“Maybe,” the man shrugs, “But it’s one of the only places big enough to accommodate the Seorabeol Hwarang. And its position would allow a tactical advantage in times of panic, it’s a relatively easy place to fortify.” 

After he’s done speaking, the man leans back in his chair to see what the others have to say. Kim Gongmyung had joined the Hwarang on Soonyoung’s excursion to Hanseong in early autumn of last year. His family’s school is quite popular there and his academics gained him notoriety with the nobles of the area. “Besides, it’s closer to the border so if there’s a need to intercept or fend off any Baekje loyalists looking for trouble, it’d put us in the best spot to do so.” 

“Those are good points,” Youngmin nods enthusiastically, “An exceptional amount of detail as always, Gongmyung.” 

Even if the chief thought it to be a good idea, a few voices rose in opposition. 

“Isn’t it a bit… presumptive to do something like that?” Seungcheol frowns at Gongmyung, his hands atop the table, fingers tapping along the wooden grains.  

Gongmyung’s smile flickers as he turns to the colonel, “Then would it be better to be negligent of the possibility, the high possibility, that the loyalists are up to something again?” His question leaves little room for the colonel to answer before he begins speaking again, “It’s a lovely thought, thinking that we’re safe now, but we all know it’s not true.” His deflection of Seungcheol’s statement leaves a bitter taste in everyone’s mouths. 

“I agree that the loyalists need to be stopped, but to place our personal interest there instead of being directed to do so by the Crown or the council is…” Seungcheol trails off, clearly thinking more inwardly than he was expressing outwardly. 

“So, then, what should we do?” Another voice piques up, questioning Seungcheol. “Wait until the bastards are knocking at our door to actually do something about it? Or maybe wait until they’ve actually captured Munmu and have burned the palace to the gro-” 

“Dongyoung,” Gongmyung interjects, “Watch your mouth.” 

“My mistake,” Dongyoung scoffs after a moment of staring at his brother for interrupting him, “Couldn’t stop myself.” 

Kim Dongyoung is the younger brother of Kim Gongmyung by blood, and only by the same father. Dongyoung had joined the Hwarang with Gongmyung in autumn and had accompanied him to Seorabeol. 

“He has the tendency to run his mouth like a child still,” Gongmyung explains, “I apologize.” His attention then turns back to Seungcheol and away from his brother, “So, don’t take it too personally, please. I’m sure someone like you is needed to make the Hwarang successful. Even if your arm is unusable in a fight, your smarts and tactical abilities will prove all the more useful.” 

You see Seungcheol biting back a retort towards Gongmyung’s sour wording, the tension between the two only cut by another voice.  

“I don’t think I heard you correctly, Gongmyung.” It’s Jihoon, his voice low as if he’s trying to stabilize the tone so as to not sound angry. “Seungcheol is smart, as you said. He is not useless and not replaceable, make sure you don’t forget that.” The commander only speaks when there’s something important to be said, having spoken up now means that Gongmyung’s words must’ve gotten to him.  

“My arm, though…” Seungcheol mutters out, seemingly unable to finish the thought. Jihoon’s words remind him of what he once was, causing him to frown at the reality of it all. 

“I didn’t mean to cause such a disturbance,” Gongmyung sighs out with false sympathy, “I’ll be sure to keep my thoughts to myself next time. Seungcheol is quite a beloved member, I see, it’s nice to see such a tight knit group. I can only hope the new members share that sentiment.” 

Jihoon’s eyes seethe with anger as he glares at Gongmyung, but before he’s able to snip back, Youngmin steps in and tries to calm the air. 

“For now,” He begins, looking at each member of the opposing parties, “Let’s just keep matters on finding a new headquarter location. Gongmyung, would you mind coming with me? I’d love to continue our earlier conversation.” 

“Of course, Chief.” Gongmyung says and rises to his feet at the same time Youngmin does, the two begin to leave the room, quickly followed out by Kangjoon. 

“May I join you as well?” The latter asks before the two step out of the hall. 

“Of course,” Youngmin accepts, “I’d like you to hear what Gongmyung has to say, it may help you with strategy points.” 

“Thank you,” Kangjoon says with an appreciative smile as the three exit, shortly followed by Dongyoung who scoffs at the encounter before slinking out after them. 

“Who’s the asshole that invited them to join us?” Seungkwan frowns once the sound of their footsteps falls out of earshot. 

“That asshole’s still in Hanseong,” Junhui huffs, “When Soonyoung gets back I might just wring his neck.”

“The Kim’s father is friends with a few pro-military councilmen,” Mingyu muses, “Interesting to see that they’d join us if they share those same beliefs.” 

“They’re probably playing some sort of superiority game,” Jihoon says, his arms crossing over his chest. “Just listen to the bullshit that Dongyoung spouts off, and it looks like it’s rubbing off on Youngmin. And that’s definitely not good.”

“Youngmin’s always been like that,” Seungkwan adds, “Easily deceived by those who act nice and appear virtuous but are just vipers waiting for the right time to strike.”

“And Gongmyung’s the deputy commander with Dongyoung in a captain’s position,” Mingyu shakes his head, “They’ve rooted themselves deep.” 

Jihoon’s gaze travels to Seungcheol, who’s been staring at the patterns in the wood since his conversation with Gongmyung. “Don’t listen to him,” the commander says to him in hopes of cheering him up.  

“Gongmyung is a skilled orator with a proficient education to back it,” Seungcheol laughs dryly, “And not only that, but he’s also skilled with a sword and bow. With a gifted Deputy Commander, the Hwarang have little need for a colonel now.”

“Seungcheol-” Jihoon begins to protest as the colonel rises to his feet and starts to head for the exit. The commander’s voice trails after Seungcheol as he leaves quietly, no one daring to stop him. 

“Of all people…” Mingyu sighs out, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair, “Even the wang-do are avoiding him now.” 

“Why?” You question and turn to the captain, “It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.”

“It’s his attitude,” Junhui responds in the elder’s stead, “It doesn't matter what you say to him, he takes it the wrong way regardless.” 

“Not to mention the smartass tone he’s been taking up,” a twisted frown settles onto Mingyu’s face, “it’s no wonder the men are scared shitless of him.” 

Their words confuse you, even though you haven’t been here as long as the other captains, Seungcheol was well liked among everyone in the Hwarang. After he’d received his injury, it seems as if that demeanor has taken a turn for the worse.  

“Can’t you come up with an excuse to get Gongmyung the hell out of here?” Seungkwan asks, turning towards Jihoon. “There’s barely been a moment of civility since he got here.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” Jihoon’s expression turns sour, “Youngmin’s all over the guy. Besides, he brought in a bunch of warriors from Hanseong, their allegiance doesn’t solely lie with us yet. They’ll pack up and leave the second we tell him to get lost.” 

“Fuck him though!” Seungkwan does little to quell the irateness of his voice, “You’re the goddamn demon commander, make the impossible happen!” 

Jihoon barks out a snarkish laugh, “Fine, Boo. How about I make you commander so you can kick Gongmyung and his thugs out?” 

“Hell no,” Seungkwan snickers, “That’s too much work.”

It eventually comes to fruition that Gongmyung isn’t to be trusted, having no other captains speak out on his behalf.  

You’re going around once more to distribute tea to the men when you stop by Hansol, who’d been quiet for most of, if not all, of the prior conversation. He looks up at you, as if he had felt your thoughts wander over to him.  

“What are your thoughts on Gongmyung joining?” You ask as he sets down his teacup onto the tabletop.  

Hansol sighs as you begin topping off the cup, “As any group begins to grow in numbers, it’ll have more and more people with differing opinions.” You pull the pot away from his cup, staunching the flow of the liquid, “Although, if one intends to be the catalyst for change instead of it occurring naturally, the group will begin to kill itself from the inside out.” His words hang heavy as you stand next to him, unsure of what to say next.  

Gongmyung’s acceptance into the Hwarang, from your perspective, wasn’t to tear them apart, but maybe to cause dissension among the members. You’re not fond of him, but his treatment towards Seungcheol and the colonel’s receptiveness to the critiques is what worries you the most. It’s not as if his arm would work again overnight, it would take a miracle to happen, and Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the type to frequent shamans.  

Sometime later you find yourself wandering back to your room, the meeting dissipating with little to be done with the newest arrivals. Although cold outside, the setting sun gives off little warmth as you trapeze yourself through one of the gardens. The reddish-maroon of the sinking star unsettling you. 

You still have Seungcheol in mind as you pause for a moment, staring up at the shifting hues of the heavens. A conversation you’d heard in the news of Seungcheol’s injury had spurred the conversation of the Furies as well as a serum. By the way they’d spoken of it, it made it seem as if the item was only used in dire circumstances, and it was highly secretive. You weren’t even supposed to know about it in the first place, but Soonyoung had let slip some information on it and now you can’t help but think about it. 

If you were to try and learn of it yourself, it’s no doubt that you’d find yourself in a world of trouble. Yet, you are the daughter of a physician, surely you have more medical knowledge than them? 

Falling onto your better judgment, you return to your quarters. Even if you’re worried about Seungcheol, you’re not sure that there’s much you can even do for him at this point.  

When the sun finally drops below the horizon, it seems as if Shoshin Temple bursts to life with activity. But the sounds aren’t boisterous, not the gaiety induced ones of the captains rough-housing, these were more ominous. You hear footsteps charge past your room, never seeming to cease as the men run off to an unknown location.  

Despite trying your best to keep out of it, your curiosity overtakes you, amalgamating in you slowly creeping out into the hall and following the sound of the commotion. The sounds take you to the main hall, the door left ajar so you quietly make your way inside. 

“To think that Seungcheol would’ve…” You can hear Youngmin’s voice, a seriousness in it as he comes into view. Jihoon and the other captains stand around him, each looking to be in a different stage of shock or disbelief. 

“What the hell were you all doing?!” Jihoon shouts out towards the other captains, his grief seeming to take shape in the form of unbridled anger, “I told you to watch out for Seungcheol! Was there some fucking part of that that you didn’t understand?” 

“You can’t blame us for this,” Junhui retorts defensively, “Who would’ve thought that he’d drink that shit? He was also in charge of that stuff so how were we supposed to know he had it?” 

“If he’d hidden it in a vial we wouldn’t have known,” Mingyu adds, glancing from Junhui to Jihoon, “And suppose that it does treat his arm… Everyone who took it went crazy. It didn’t work.” 

The serum… is that what the captains are referring to? You don’t have enough context on the situation to understand fully, but has Seungcheol taken whatever it is? 

“Seungcheol had been trying to improve it,” Hansol interjects, “He’d hoped his arm would heal before it deteriorated too much… Maybe he felt as if there wasn’t any other way. Regardless of that, when he realized his failure he ignored Seungkwan and tried to kill himself.”

“Kill himself?” You gasp aloud, momentarily forgetting that you aren’t supposed to be here. Slowly, all eyes shift to you, Jihoon’s gaze quickly meeting yours. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks and suddenly you’re unable to speak. His gaze holds an iciness that causes your throat to clam up, restricting any words that are trying to form. It’s the same way you felt upon entering Shoshin the first time, a mixture of anxiousness, suspicion and animosity.  

“Jihoon,” Youngmin says, his hand moving to rest on the commander’s forearm, “I think it’s time you tell her what’s going on. She is Heo’s daughter, after all.” 

Your eyes grow wide at the mention of your father’s name. Why is he being brought up all of a sudden? 

“I’m going to make this clear,” the commander stares at Youngmin with a grimace, looking back to you after a moment and sighing out lengthily, “The Hwarang don’t need you. There’s a chance that you’ll help us find Heo, but even without you, we’ll find him one way or another. Do anything strange and we’ll have you killed.” Your limbs feel frozen in place as he speaks, you’re able to stutter out an ‘Okay’ before he continues. “I’m going to tell you what’s happening here, but keep in mind that if you tell anyone else about it other than those that are in this room: it’s your own head.” 

“Are you… going to kill me?” 

“Not yet, but don’t think that means you’re free to run off.” 

“We never told you why your father was here in the first place,” Youngmin steps in, allowing you to break your gaze with Jihoon. “He was developing a… treatment of sorts.” 

“Like the one Seungcheol took?” Words forming on your lips, testing out how shocked you sound.  

The leader of the Hwarang nods solemnly, breathing in deeply before responding, “We first learned of it when one of the Crown’s men brought it to us. They told us it was obtained through trades with merchants in Tang.” 

The curiosity of it all, as dreadful it may be, swirls inside of you. Culminating into something you’re not sure you have the words to describe.  

“A foreign drug said to augment a man’s healing and bolster their strength,” Hansol sighs out, “Anyone who drank their fill would, supposedly, be able to fight off a guhin with no issue.” His voice serious, despite having alluded to a mythical beast, “Any of their injuries would heal almost immediately, unless they were decapitated or pierced through the heart.

This all sounds like something your father would’ve told you as a child to fuel your imagination, not something that was feasible now. 

“Yet, that power comes at a price. It spirals whoever drinks it into an unreturnable madness, they seek out human blood to satisfy their hunger instead of food or drink.” Hansol continues, looking at you with a wary gaze, Heo took it upon himself to try it out on some of the Hwarang so that an attempt to perfect the serum could be worked on. 

“My father?” You’re not sure how surprised you sound, something within you twinges but it’s probably the knowledge somewhere deep inside that you knew your father is connected to all of this. Yet knowing that he was using his skills to try and work on this… serum, makes a pit begin to form in your stomach. “So that night where you all found me...”

“We keep the men who’ve taken it to a temple just outside of Seorabeol, if they were kept here people would’ve become suspicious,” The explanation doesn’t tell you how you’d come to find them, but you can infer that they’d probably escaped. “As long as they don’t get any blood they stay relatively quiet.” With the way Hansol relays the information, it makes it seem as this is just a nonchalant topic for him, and it may have very well been. But to you, it’s alien but helps you put together a few things you’d been wondering since your arrival here.  

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, a tinge of concern to his voice, “You don’t look great.” He stops himself, scoffing inwardly before continuing, “Of course you’re not, this information would sicken anyone.”

“I think we’ve told her enough,” Jihoon interjects before Mingyu can continue, “We need to think about what to do with Seungcheol.”

“I guess…” Junhui frowns, crossing his arms, “But he was practically dead when Eunseok took him out of here.”

“This was a new draught of that shit, though,” Jihoon sounds as if he’s trying to contain himself, to keep his hopefulness on the floor, “we don’t know if the effects are any different from the last batch. And if it’s supposed to do what it's meant to, then that cut isn’t going to kill him.” His eyes flicker to the leader, “Youngmin, can you watch over him? I know Eunseok’s taking care of him but he’s just a kid and I don’t think that-” A pause as he catches himself fretting, he gives himself a second to straighten up, “Tonight will tell us if he’s meant to live or die, and whether he’ll be sane or not by the end of it.”

“Of course, isn’t Seungkwan with him as well?” Youngmin asks before he turns on his heels and heads towards the door.

“He’s guarding the room,” A curt response from Jihoon before Youngmin nods and exits the main hall, the sound of his footsteps dying down after a moment.

“I want you to keep everyone away from the captain’s wing,” Jihoon looks towards Mingyu, a frown dancing on his lips, “Especially Gongmyung’s men.”

“I know,” Mingyu huffs looking to where Youngmin had exited.

“Junhui, go and check on Hwangnyongsa.”

Another order from Jihoon, Junhui nods wordlessly and begins to head towards the main exit of the headquarters. As he passes, you see a glint of the same hostility he’d held towards you on the night of your first arrival. It’s tense and suspicious of you, an itch of gooseflesh overcoming you as he walks out into the night.

“Hansol, go to the inner courtyard, if the Kim brothers or their men show up, keep them busy,” And before Hansol’s even left the room, Jihoon’s gaze settles on you. “I want you to stay with one of the captains.” His concern stems not for the care of your well-being, that much is evident in his gaze, but more to the fact that tonight isn’t a good night to be wandering around alone.

“I’d stay away from Hwangnyongsa, they get rowdy at night,” Mingyu notes, his teeth biting at his cheek.

You nod, thankful for the suggestion, but even with his warning, you’d be limited in where you could go.

“I think I’ll stay here,” you assert to the remaining men, nodding to yourself that this is probably the safest place you could remain within the compound.

It doesn’t take long for Hansol and Mingyu to take their leave, heading for their respective locations around the headquarters before you’re left alone with the commander.

The main hall feels suffocating, mostly from Jihoon’s quietness and the thoughts of what had transpired here merely an hour beforehand. Your gaze shifts from looking out of the main entrance to the commander, his brow furrowing and eyes looking sullen. It’s easy to see that the events of tonight are eating away at him, his concern for his second-in-command utterly gnawing at his very being. His eyes close and he lets out a quiet sigh before speaking again,

“You might think you know who Seungcheol is, but this… It’s not really who he is. He’s an intelligent man who is more than just a sword. The colonel sees the full picture rather than what lies duly in front of him.” Another sigh as if he’s reminiscing, “His guidance helped me through a lot more than I’d like to credit, but his words were always more commandeering than his blade. In a way he was more powerful than me, without him, the Hwarang would’ve regressed to the likes of the Wonhwa.” A subtle smile curling on his lips, “He was like my big brother.” Hands balling into fists atop the table, there is a sincerity that drips from his words bitterly.

“He must mean a lot to you,” you say softly, your own hands falling into your lap, your back hitting the back of the chair as you lean.

“It sounds a little childlike when you say it aloud,” the absinthian smile still clinging to him. He sits, probably thinking the worst outcome for his longtime friend, reminiscing on their past and contemplating what it may mean for the future. Jihoon’s position leaves him unable to divulge this with most others, yet by sharing them with you, he can hold off on the truth for a while longer.

“The only reason we didn’t get rid of that serum is because we thought we could heal his arm with it somehow… Because I thought we could heal him,” the smile fades away, replaced with a grimace. “I should’ve seen this coming.” His own hands fall away from the tabletop and to his sides, a relent in the tension building in his shoulders, “We need Seungcheol. We can’t lose him.”

An anguish coming over him due to the morality of his friend. It’s hard to watch, and you’re nowhere near close enough to him to offer him substantial comfort or advice.

“It’ll be okay,” quiet words leaving you as you straighten up in your chair, his gaze flickering over to you.  

“Do you have anything to back that statement up?”

“Back in Toehwa-hyeon, I saw my father treat a lot of people. Most of them believed that they’d recover, and my dad said it was because they had a strong heart,” you say slowly, trying to space out your words coherently. “Seungcheol never seemed like the type to give up fully, and if we all think that he’ll recover then…”

Jihoon lets out a small laugh with a smile and shakes his head, “The Commander of the Hwarang being cheered up by a physician’s daughter. Who could’ve ever imagined this?” A spark igniting in his eyes, returning to the glowing embers and eventual blaze that he so often carries. “You’re right, though. Seungcheol drank the medicine with the intent of getting better and fixing his arm, we just have to believe that he’ll recover.” 

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 7, 662 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The night breaks into dawn long after you've retired to your room. A clattering of noise and the rise of voices rouse you from slumber and pull you back to the main hall. Upon entering, you find that the captains have gathered, each in conversation with one another. This scene isn’t interrupted until Eunseok enters. 

“It seems as if the hardest part for him is over,” The youngest nods, a collective ball of tension in the room dissipating instantly. 

“How is he?” Mingyu asks, looking to Eunseok. 

“Still asleep,” he nods, “he was in and out of consciousness the entire night, but he looks peaceful now.”

“Has he gone crazy like the others?” Junhui’s question is blunt as he blurts it out into the space. 

Eunseok shakes his head in the negative, “Not seemingly. But we won’t know until he wakes up. But as for now, he looks as he always has.”

Before another captain is able to ask Eunseok of Seungcheol’s status, the doors open and Gongmyung strides into the room.

“Good morning everyone,” A cheap smile painted on his face, “How are you?”

You can hear Junhui let out a soft, “Fuck,” at the sight of him. 

Gongmyung scans the faces of the captains after their muffled hellos, “You all look… gloomy.” 

“Isn’t it obvious that it’s because we’ve got to see your beautiful face every morning?” Junhui bites with a snicker. 

“What a… cute response,” Gongmyung’s quick to brush away the insult as he turns to the other captains. “Is the reason you all look so down because of what happened last night?”

“Ah, actually,” Youngmin begins, fumbling over his words. His gaze hops from captain to captain, looking for someone to relieve him of trying to offer an excuse to Gongmyung. 

“Jae,” Junhui’s elbow finds the older’s side as he whispers, “make something up!”

“You see,” Mingyu says after a moment, he too, stumbling over his words, “Well… Uh, yesterday…” 

“Didn’t you say you used to act for the nobles in your village?” Seungkwan scoffs at him quietly, “Be quiet and let someone else do the talking.” You think he’s talking about himself, but instead of speaking up, Seungkwan looks to Hansol, who begins speaking almost immediately. 

“As you may have heard, an incident occurred last night at the headquarters,” voice plain as he speaks to the Deputy Commander, “We have yet to gain full knowledge on the situation. If we were to make a statement now, it is a risk of polluting fact with falsities. Later this afternoon I’m sure we’ll be able to provide a much more detailed report.” 

“Hmm,” Gongmyung mulls over Hansol’s statement for a moment, “I’ll look forward to hearing all about what happened later this evening, then. For now, I’ll return to my men.” He waves everyone on his way out, a strange smile cutting across his face before he exits. 

“That was easier than it should’ve been,” Seungkwan huffs, watching the door close with a soft slam.

“What do you mean?” You ask, attention turning from the door and to Seungkwan.

“Gongmyung isn’t stupid, unfortunately,” Jihoon frowns and looks at you, “We shouldn’t have let him in here. The only person missing from our ranks is Seungcheol, it’s not going to take him long to realize that something’s happened to him.” 

The Deputy Commander had most likely suspected what had occurred but decided to not press the issue. Before you can think on it for too long, the door opens once more and Choi Seungcheol shuffles in.

A small laugh as he looks at them, his voice sounding a little weak, “Come on, it’s not like I’m some kind of monster.”

Eunseok rushes to him, offering assistance to stand but is waved away by the Colonel, “You should be resting, are you okay being up like this?”

“I’m tired… sore… but I suppose that’s a side effect of my new condition,” Seungcheol’s brow furrows slightly as he looks down to his hand, “Those who’ve taken the serum have found it difficult to do work in the daylight.” His face is a bit pallid, but with the way he stands and moves, it doesn’t seem like he’s hindered all too much. “I’m no longer human,” the words echoing around the room with a chilling effect. Each and every captain fell silent to them.

“Who cares about what you are?” Youngmin speaks up after a moment and steps towards Seungcheol with a bright smile, trying to lighten the mood, “All that matters is that you’re alive.”

“How’s your arm? Healed?” Seungkwan questions, looking down to the colonel’s once bandaged limb. 

“I don’t think I’ve fully recovered yet,” Seungcheol notes, flexing his fingers at his side, “It seems to have healed for the most part.” 

Despite the disturbance and subsequent chaos of the night prior, it seems like Seungcheol’s wish to use his arm again had come true. 

“You can’t go out in the sunlight though, right?” Mingyu asks, voice concerned, and his brow furrowed, “Will you still be able to fight with us?”

Seungcheol nods, slowly moving his head as if he’s mulling over a thought he’d been holding in for some time. “I think you should tell everyone I died.”

“What!?” Junhui shouts out, unable to hold in the burst of confusion. “The fuck are you on about?”

“I should serve in the Corps from now on. It’ll show them, and even more so, us, that success isn’t some far off dream.” Seungcheol says, looking at the frazzled captain. 

“Have you lost your goddamn mind Seungcheol?” Junhui’s voice shakes with every word, “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Of course, I do,” Seungcheol frowns, “The Crown has ordered us to keep the serum a secret, and if I,” a small hum as he postulates his next word, “die, that secret remains so. Researching in secret will give me more ability to track side effects and even give me the potential to remove them. What reason do we have for me not to if we’re going to use it?” 

The movements of the captains easily show that they’re against Seungcheol’s idea, although no one but Junhui has said anything against it. None of them wish to banish their friend to a life of hiding and secrecy. 

“We were given this task by the late King himself, carried on by his son…” Youngmin trails off, “This may be our only choice.”  

“This is what you asked for, isn’t it Seungcheol?” Seungkwan shoots him a look, “You’ve always been the type to take things into your own hands so I can’t fault you for that.” 

“Sometimes I think you know me too well,” the colonel chuckles.

Jihoon, who’s stayed silent for a majority of the conversation, scoffs at the remark. “This means moving the Hwarang to a new location can’t wait any longer. If we’re going to hide Seungcheol from Gongmyung and his crowd, Shoshin wouldn’t allow us to do that easily.” 

“You’re right,” Hansol affirms, “If the Colonel intends to begin researching again, then we’ll have to expedite our move.” 

A nod from the commander as he turns to face the captains in full, “Even though none of you slept well, we need to get to work.” He looks to you, “You should get some rest, I know you didn’t sleep well either.” 

You want to stay and help them, but with how fatigued you are from staying up so late you can only nod your head at him before quickly shuffling back to your room. 

The same thoughts that had plagued you last night as you tried to fall asleep plague you as you now lie on your bedding. Your father’s work… Are you safe under their pretext of safety still? Thoughts still buzzing around your head as you eventually find yourself drifting off into a dreamless slumber. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 4𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Bulguksa Temple has proven a better headquarters than that of Shoshin Temple, you’d come to this conclusion in the subsequent weeks of your arrival in March of this year. There’s much more room for the men to freely roam and train, and the view was even more astonishing than the last. The only downfall is the longer trek to the city of Seorabeol itself. On some days you still find yourself lost on the winding paths to the temple, but for the most part you can guide yourself around with little assistance from the monks who reside there.

On this particular day, you find yourself wandering the seemingly endless grounds for the Hwarang’s colonel. When you think you spot him standing in one of the shaded courtyards of the temple’s grounds you shout out to him.

“There you are, Colonel,” You call out, a tray held tightly in your grasp. The sun hangs in the sky above you, a slight burn beginning to burgeon on your clothed shoulders as you approach. “I’ve brought you your lunch.”

“Oh, hello,” he turns to you with a smile and beckons you closer, “Thank you.” A bird chirps in the branches of the tree above him, you look up to find the small creature before returning your gaze to him. You offer him a smile before extending out the tray to him. 

“It’s really gotten warm lately, hasn’t it?” You note, stepping into the shade once he’d taken the tray. Fingers rising to your shoulders to feel the heat of the sun that had soaked into the fabric. 

“It has,” he nods, moving to set the tray down on a stump beside him, “Although the increased sunshine has been more disagreeable than the warmth.”

“Ah, is it?” The sun doesn’t feel but so harsh on you, but the heat that swells around the compound has been making you sweat since the sun broke over the horizon. Yet, to Seungcheol his disposition probably found the light unbearable from his days in the shadows.

Sometimes it feels unreal to call Seungcheol dead, the night where he’d taken that serum to transform him into a creature lustful for blood, feeling more so like a dream whenever you recall it. As he stands before you now, you can hardly imagine it.

A light breeze wafts through the greenery around you, parting enough leaves in the tree from a few beams of sunlight to fall onto Seungcheol. For a moment, his hair turns a silvery white and his eyes seem to turn a deep crimson.

Your eyes widen and you take a step back, unsure if it were a trick of the light or your own imagination. 

“Is something wrong?” He asks, his hair now normal and his eyes once again brown. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and I know I’m not at that point yet.” Maybe you had imagined it.

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 6𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Soonyoung had asked you to accompany him on his rounds this morning with an excitedness in his voice that would’ve been hard to turn down. So, now you find yourself briskly walking with him through the crowded streets, the blues of his robes shining brilliantly in the midday sky. 

“It’s been a while since you’ve asked me to come on patrol with you,” You note as you pass a vendor selling sickeningly sweet treats. 

“I know, right? Hanseong kept me pretty busy.” He sighs out, having only just returned from his trip to the northern city just a few weeks ago. “Junhui and Mingyu didn’t mess with you when I was gone, did they? How was it when I was away?”

“Everything was fine, and they didn’t bother me,” You assure him with a small smile. 

“That’s good,” He returns the smile as you continue to walk. “Any updates on Heo though? Did you find any leads?”

“No,” the smile from your lips quickly leaving. 

“I see…” His own smile quickly disappears as he watches you, “I stopped by his place with the information you gave me but… It didn’t seem as if anyone had returned.” The somberness of the male begins to transfer to you, a feeling of hopelessness beginning to overtake you momentarily. 

“Thank you for taking the time to check for me, I know Toehwa-hyeon isn’t on the direct path back.”

“Don’t thank me for that,” He waves you off, “The fact that you can’t freely come and go as you please is completely the Hwarang’s faul—” 

“Soonyoung?” You question as he’d stopped himself mid-sentence. He’d looked glum ever since his return from Hanseong. “How about you, though? I know it’s been a while since you’ve been back in Seorabeol.” 

“I do feel like the city’s changed, the people too,” he muses, glancing at the faces that pass by. There’s a solemness to his tone that wasn’t typically there in conversations you’d had with him prior, had something happened in Hanseong? Before you can question him on it, his head jerks to look above the crowd, standing on his toes and waving to someone across the way.

“Find anything over there, Seungkwan?!” He shouts out above the clamor of the street. 

“Nope,” the older replies as he saunters over, “Nothing out of order here.” Seungkwan is out for patrol too, but his route takes him through a different path through the city. “Normal for now, at least. Things will change once the king comes back from his family villa. Rumor has it that he’s going to address the Hwarang.”

“Is he really?” You question, brow raising in surprise.

“Yep, it’s got Youngmin all flustered,” Seungkwan chuckles, “Our dear leader really respects the Crown, as well all have to, I guess.”

“I see,” you nod, “I hope it actually happens, then, right, Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung looks lost in thought before he hears his name, stumbling out his words as he responds, “Ah, yeah, right.” 

You look to Seungkwan to see if he’s caught on to the other’s oddness. But he’s stifling his mouth with his hand, coughing into it. 

“Are you alright?” You question him as his hand falls away from his mouth.

“I’m okay,” he waves you off, “I probably just caught a cold from patrolling late one night or something.” 

“Well, try to take care of yourself,” a sigh leaving you. As strong and intelligent as the men were, they hardly ever took care of their basic needs, “I have some cold medicine back at the headquarters, I’ll give you some.” 

“Thanks,” Seungkwan smiles, “I guess it is good to have you around at times.” Something catches his attention, and he breaks his gaze away from you and into the crowds of the street.

“Is something wrong?”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” A voice rings out and you follow it to see a man holding the wrist of a woman trying to get away from him. 

“Let go of me!” She cries out, trying to pull herself away from his grip.

“We’re soldiers of this great kingdom, fighting hard every day to kick these loyalists’ asses! You owe us some drinks, and maybe even a little company.” The man says, and it’s then you realize it isn’t just him, but two other presumed soldiers are harassing this woman. 

“Are you guys seeing this?” You question the two captains.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung frowns, “Stay here.”

Yet, before Soonyoung could step forward, Seungkwan seems to be several steps ahead, reaching the group already.

“Soldiers don’t seem to be what they used to,” he tuts, “throwing that rank aloud doesn’t mean you’re owed anything.” The crowds coming to watch the scene shuffle away from Seungkwan as he hovers his hand on his blade, glaring at the men. As the harassers catch the blues of the Hwarang’s robes they seem to stiffen. 

“You’re a Hwarang, aren’t you?” One of them asks, furrowing their brow.

“And you must be the smartest one out of these men,” Seungkwan’s tone is condescending as his hand now rests on the hilt of his sword. “Now, what’s it going to be?” A snide, predatory smile as he grips the hilt, no happiness deriving from the grin as the soldier’s faces pale. 

“Why don’t you leave us alone? This doesn’t involve you.” The one presumed to be their ringleader remarks. 

“If you really want to get out of here unscathed, you should probably follow your own advice,” Soonyoung scoffs, now saddling up beside Seungkwan. 

The sight of two Hwarang seems enough to deter the men from their endeavor. Their faces draining of color before they scamper off like scolded dogs. 

“If they’re just gonna run off like that when they see us they shouldn’t have tried to start anything in the first place,” Soonyoung sighs, watching them disappear into the crowds. 

“Aren’t you going to go after them?” You ask, looking at them as you walk over.

“And charge them with what?” Seungkwan questions, retracting his hand away from his blade and crossing his arms, “Didn’t think you were the iron fist kind of person.”

Before you can protest that that’s not what you meant, the woman whom the two Hwarang had intervened for speaks up, “Thank you for saving me.” She gives both Seungkwan and Soonyoung a bow, more grace in her movements than you could ever hope to have. Even if you dressed like a girl you’re not sure you’d even come close. 

Seungkwan’s hand lands on your shoulder before you’re able to feel any sorrier for yourself. “Seungkwan?” You question as he pulls you forward to stand next to the girl.

“Just go with it,” he says and steps away from the two of you, his hand under his chin as he looks over both of you. You smile softly at the girl, embarrassed as to what the Hwarang is making you do. She returns the smile, beautiful on the outside but there is something almost… strange about it. 

“Just as I thought,” Seungkwan nods, “They look just like each other.” 

And then it hits you, the girl standing before you looks just as you do whenever you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirrors dotting the headquarters. 

“Really?” Soonyoung questions, tilting his head at the two of you, “I don’t think they look alike at all, Boo.”

“Dress ‘em up like a girl and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” Seungkwan insists.

“Captain Boo…” The woman says, looking at you, “She seems troubled.” 

She? Had the woman caught on to you so soon? Stuck in your thoughts she smiles at you once more, “I want to thank all of you properly, but I’m afraid that I’m in the middle of something important. My name is Ahro, I hope I’ll be able to repay you soon, Captain Boo.”

And with that she too disappears like a wisp into the crowds of Seorabeol, the strangeness of her presence lingering long after she’s left.

“It looks like she likes you, Seungkwan!” Soonyoung nudges the elder with his elbow.

“Is that really what you think, Soonyoung?” The other laughs, “You’ve got a long way to go before you’re at Junhui’s prowess levels.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Soonyoung shouts at the other, clearly offended by the remark. 

Their bickering fades away as you look to a puddle on the ground left from the rain the night prior. Looking into it now you see the resemblance that you and that woman had had. “Ahro…” You hum as a gust of wind causes the water to ripple and distort your figure. 

“Let’s get going!” Soonyoung calls, now further down the street as he’d begun walking back to Bulguksa.

“Coming!” You shout out to him as you look up from the puddle and begin to chase after him. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 11𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The main hall of this temple is open enough so that most, if not all, of the Seorabeol Hwarang can fit inside of it with ample room to spare. It’s a little strange to see all of these faces in one place, seeing as at Shoshin, only the captains and a few other members took priority of occupying the main hall. Yet, as Kwak Youngmin stands proudly in front of his men, any thoughts of the prior location escape your mind.

“By now it’s probably not our best kept secret, but King Munmu has asked us to act as his guard as he returns from his family’s villa to Banweolseong.” Youngmin beams excitedly as the hall begins to erupt in chatter.

“Guard him?” Junhui looks shocked as he turns towards Mingyu, “What’s that about?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “I thought we were just going to get the usual ‘Keep up the good work’ spiel.” 

“Our work at Wonweol and Ongsan must’ve gotten through to them,” Jihoon nods, a hidden smile pulling at his lips. 

“The leadership of Silla resting on us,” Seungkwan muses almost gleefully, “That’s big.”

“Exactly right,” Jihoon agrees, “We’ve got to do beyond our best for this.”

On the opposite end of the hall, you can hear Suh Kangjoon speak up, “Guarding the king… That’s quite the promotion for us.”

“It truly is,” Gongmyung notes with a sigh, “If only Seungcheol were alive to see it. He would’ve been overjoyed.” Another lamenting breath tiptoeing on faux sympathy, “To have lost such an ally…” 

Kim Gongmyung and all of his followers had been told of the colonel’s passing. Actually, the incident surrounding Seungcheol’s transformation had been hidden, only a few of the Hwarang knew the reality of the situation. 

“I think doing our best to serve and protect the king is what Seungcheol would’ve wanted,” Youngmin interjects himself into their conversation. 

“Yes,” Gongmyung nods, “Of course. This is an excellent opportunity for us to gain favor with the masses.”

“We ought to assign roles at this point. I’d like Jihoon, Seungkwan, and myself to—” Youngmin begins before being cut off by Jihoon.

“Sorry Kwak, but do you think Boo can sit this one out?” The commander’s arms cross over his chest as he glances towards the third party. 

“Why’s that?” Youngmin questions, confusion sweeping his features.  

“His cold hasn’t recovered fully. And despite me telling him to take care of himself, he neglects to do so,” He sighs out, looking back towards Youngmin. 

“Is this true, Seungkwan?” Youngmin looks at the swordsman, “Are you alright?”

“Lee’s just babying me again,” Seungkwan says with a dismissive gesture, “I think I’m alright.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Jihoon frowns, “You nearly coughed up a lung earlier.” 

“Are you trying to sell me medicine?” He scoffs, crossing his arms with a frown, “There’s no way in hell I’m taking what your mother’s doctor prescribed anymore. It tastes like persimmons.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to—” a frustrated grunt from the commander, “Just do what I say, for once.”

You recall giving Seungkwan medicine some time ago after he’d been coughing while out on patrol, had it not helped him? It could be dust particles in the air, you know that the buildup of dust in the temple caused you to sneeze incessantly some mornings. 

From the corner of your periphery, you see someone raise their hand. 

“Is something wrong, Soonyoung?” Youngmin asks, having seen the younger calling for attention. 

“I’m uh, I’m not feeling so great either,” Soonyoung frowns, his eyes looking panicked. 

“You too?” Youngmin hums in defeat, “You should try and take care of yourself. I was hoping we could all go and guard the king.”

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung bows his head in apology. 

“No, no, don’t worry about it. Your health comes first, always!” Youngmin tries to brighten his tone to detract from the now somber mood. “I’m sure we’ll have another chance to do something great together!”

Jihoon and Youngmin continue discussing the precession that’s to take place, when suddenly, the commander turns to you.

“What’re you going to do?” Jihoon asks, an eyebrow raised as he poises the question. 

“What do you mean?” You say as you look to him, “Are you asking if I want to go with you?”

“I am,” He nods and after a moment of silence asks, “Are you?” 

“Is that really okay?”

“Of course it is!” Youngmin smiles, “We won’t mind. Besides, you’re practically one of us, I’d love for you to accompany us.” 

Another moment of hesitation before Seungkwan laughs aloud, “Why don’t you go? It seems a lot safer than what happened at Wonweol and Ongsan.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung nods, “I can’t imagine any loyalists would try to do anything when the king’ll be so heavily guarded.” 

“I’ll go, then,” you nod firmly towards the commander. 

“Alright,” Jihoon nods back with a small smile, “I thought we’d give you the job of running messages when needed. It’s not going to be the easiest job but I figure you can do it.”

Later that day you and the able captains and Hwarang left Seorabeol. Traveling about an hour or two outside of the city as you wait for the king’s caravan to greet you in a small village that you can’t remember the name of. You never actually saw the king, but you follow the Hwarang back to Seorabeol, arriving at the gates of the city just as the sun dips below the horizon. The walk through the city is brisk, and in no time the caravan disbands and you and a few other Hwarang stand outside the palace gates. By now, Youngmin, Junhui and Gongmyung are probably greeting officials and other important members of the king’s retinue. 

You shift on your feet for a moment, the sole aching slightly from the trek earlier, but you have a job to do. Jihoon had tasked you to tell the Hwarang when to change their shift and to carry any important messages when needed. It’s something of a glorified page position, but it’s not an entirely useless role… probably. 

“You’re the messenger?” A voice says as you approach them, “This isn’t a vacation, you know.”

“I’m not here to relax, Dongyoung,” you sigh as you stand before him.

“Is that right? Then why did we take someone here who can’t even use a sword?” Dongyoung scoffs, the light from a nearby brazier flickering across the sneer on his face.

“I’m here to do what I can,” You state firmly before beginning to relay your message. “The Chief is currently paying his respects to members of the court, everyone else should continue guarding.” 

“Message understood,” he says flippantly, causing you to look confused with how he didn’t retort on it. “What? Surprised I actually listened to you?”

“Oh no—I just—” 

“It’s a job,” He frowns, “It’s not personal. Now you’ve delivered your message, get going.”

You don’t ever speak much to Dongyoung, mostly on account of his brother being Gongmyung, but maybe he’s more responsible than you thought him to be. 

After he shoos you away, you continue to make your rounds, delivering messages to the Hwarang stationed around the castle. They’re easy to spot, wearing their white robes instead of their normal blues. They seem laxer now, maybe because the loyalists had been driven out of the capital for the most part, the Baekje revivalists fleeing back to the territory of the old kingdom. 

As you think that, and begin to approach another member of the Hwarang some distance away, your blood runs cold. A prick of gooseflesh running along your spine as your heartbeat reaches your ears. You can taste the blood in the air, looking around the trees encasing the palace and finding nothing. It’s not until you look at the castle walls and the walkway situated on top of it, does your stomach sink. Three figures jump down from the wall, landing on the dirt ground with a cloud of gritty dust.

“You’ve found us, then,” A familiar voice sighs out as they turn to you, stating your name somewhat cooly. The figure, flanked by two others, is haloed in the moonlight as you squint your eyes to try and get a better look at his face. “Not too slow.” Their piercing gaze fires into you, the name ‘Hong Jisoo’ battering through your mind as you remember the distinctive voice and way he carries himself. The last you’d seen him had been at Ongsan, and you face him now with much more dread than you’d had that day.

The two figures beside him must be Hwan Minhyun and Xu Minghao, the people whom other Hwarang had encountered during the battle at the fortress. You know they have ties with the inner court and had tried to stop the Hwarang’s efforts during the battle at Wonweol and Ongsan.

“Why are you here?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.

“You mean ‘how’ did we get here, don’t you?” the one on Jisoo’s left, questions. “Man made obstacles are meaningless to a Demon.”

“We’re here for only one reason: you.” The other speaks up, crossing his arms. 

“Me?” You take a step back, the pounding of your heart unrelenting as you stare at them. “I don’t understand.” How do they know your name? “What do you mean by Demon? Is this some kind of joke?”

Jisoo scoffs, “You of all people are asking that? Maybe you’re the one who’s joking.” He steps forward, toward you, the shadows seeming to cling to his robes as he walks. 

When the man you now presume to be Minhyun speaks, it’s soft, almost caring in a way, “When you’re injured, do you heal quickly?” Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, “You heal faster than anyone around you, right?” 

This knowledge about you is unknown to almost everyone except for you and your father… How do they know this? 

You’re about to try and pull yourself together to defend yourself from the accusations when the other man, Minghao speaks up. “Wouldn’t it be better to just give her a demonstration?” His hand begins to reach for the quiver on his back before Jisoo speaks up.

“Minghao, do you really think I’d let you hurt a female Demon?” His voice slightly agitated as he glanced at the other. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Hong.” He scoffs, “She’s being stubborn, what do you suggest we do?” 

Jisoo breaks his glare, only for his eyes to settle on the blade at your hip. “Her family’s name is a demon’s, she carries the Demon of Taebaeksan’s blade. Isn’t that enough evidence?” 

“My… name?” What’s wrong with ‘Heo’? His narrative, largely unknown to you, is cause enough for you to continue to panic. 

“Then again, it’s not like we need your permission to kidnap you,” Jisoo muses, looking at you with a frown, “Come with us or we’ll have to take you instead.” His hand outstretches towards you like a lure trying to bait in a fish. You step back, away from him, when you feel two figures brush past you. 

“Woah there,” Mingyu says as he stops, feet hitting the ground as his hand reaches for and pulls out his sword, “This really isn’t the place to try and pick up a woman.”

“You again?” Jisoo asks as he steps back, a sneer on his lips, “For a noble you really do like to keep it simple.”

“The same could be said to you,” Hansol says to him, also reaching for his blade. He looks back to you, “When we heard you hadn’t given your messages out on time we came to look for you.”

You nod and step back once more, your legs becoming unsteady as if the adrenaline that had been coursing through you suddenly left you at once. A hand catches you before you fall, pulling you further away from the skirmish.

“Stay back here,” Jihoon says sternly, looking towards the trio of assailants. His hand guides you to his side before he lets go of you, reaching for his blade. “I thought you’d be here for the king,” He says to Jisoo, “What do you want with my page?” 

“I don’t have any interest in you or this kingdom right now,” Jisoo says, looking past the commander and at you, “This matter only concerns us Demons.” 

“Demons?” Jihoon scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the foe. He seems confused by the statement, perhaps hoping there’d be a more coherent and understandable reason for Jisoo’s presence. 

“Haven’t seen you since Ongsan,” Minghao notes, looking over to Mingyu and Hansol.

“Looks like it’s fate,” Mingyu huffs out, “not that I’m particularly happy about it.” 

“I don’t feel great about this reunion either,” Hansol sighs and pulls out his sword, Mingyu following suit. 

The tension lays thick in the air, settling into your throat so that you find it hard to speak or breathe. With the slightest movement that could set them off, you reflexively reach for the blade at your hip so that should anything arise, you’ll be ready. 

“Don’t worry about them,” A voice from behind you speaks up. Cloaked in the shadows from the nearby forest, Chan slowly approaches you. “Jihoon’s asked me to escort you back to headquarters.”

“Are you telling me to run?” You ask, gaze shifting from Chan to Jihoon, who’s still locked eyes with Jisoo. 

“I am,” Chan nods, reaching out so that you might take his hand, “Even if you stay there’s little you can do.” 

You shake your head, his hand falling away back to his side, “I’m going to stay.” 

“What do you think you’ll be able to do here?” Chan doesn’t sound condescending, just confused as to why you’d wish to stay and endanger yourself further. 

You think to what the three intruders had said to you prior, the want to know more about what they’d called you sought itself out with more priority than your own safety at the moment. 

“You have a reason, I see.” The Hwarang shakes his head, not waiting for a response as he sees the conviction already dead-set in your gaze. “I can admire that. But I do have my orders. You may want to stay because you want to do what you believe is right, but I have to do the same.” His hand outstretches towards you once more, a pleading look in his eye as he quietly asks for you to go with him. 

Before his fingers are able to brush against the linen of your robes, an arrow whizzes by, buzzing before it lands with a solid ‘thunk’ in a tree behind Chan. Gaze traveling back to where it had been fired, you find Minghao lowering his bow, his hand still hovering over his quiver should he need to take another shot. 

“She said she wanted to stay,” Minghao sighs, grabbing another arrow before loosely notching it, “You have to learn to respect a woman’s wishes.” 

Mingyu lurches forward with his sword in retaliation for the attack on his fellow Hwarang, hoping to land a blow somewhere on Minghao’s abdomen. The strike though, is easily dodged by the bowman, who merely steps aside and watches as Mingyu’s feet falter as he moves to sling his bow over his shoulder and reach for the sword at his hip.

“Minghao’s temper is going to get him in trouble one day,” you hear Minhyun note with a frown as he witnesses the event. 

“Evidently so,” Hansol agrees, sword still clenched in his fist, “You don’t seem like you’re going to stop him, though.” He then moves to strike the unarmed foe, swinging his sword in a downward motion to try and disrupt the lax stance Minhyun was in. 

“And here I was,” a clanging of metal as Minhyun seems to unsheathe his sword in a blink of an eye and move it upwards to counter Hansol’s blow, “thinking we could just talk this through!” 

“Who the hell are these guys?” Jihoon says through grit teeth as you hover your hand over your blade once more. Behind you, you can hear Chan slip back into the tree line, presumably to go and fetch help for the commander and captains. Minghao and Minhyun are showing much more prowess with a blade than you’d thought, and with Jisoo still standing, you know it’d take more men than the three Hwarang to defeat them. 

For now, though, you put your faith into Jihoon and step back from the fight, an action that draws appraisal from the commander, “Good. Don’t be an idiot and draw your sword. Leave this to me.”

“Don’t you remember the last time we fought?” Jisoo frowns and you recall the fight that Jihoon had found himself entrenched in. The way that the stranger speaks of it unsettles you, as if he’s taunting the commander with the memory of it. “Maybe instead of going easy I’ll just get rid of you.” 

Jihoon laughs at the absurdity of the statement, “I’d love to see you try. I still haven’t paid you back for killing one of my men at Ongsan.”

The rivalry sparks between them, a fire igniting in their gazes before Jihoon takes the first step. They run towards each other, their swords clanging together and ringing out through the nighttime sky. Blades screaming against one another as they’re pulled apart by the respective opponent, Jihoon seeks to swing again only to be parried by Jisoo with ease. 

“What the hell are you?” Jihoon asks as the two part once more, his breathing heaving as it seems as if he’d thrown his all into his last strike. 

“Haven’t I already said what I was? A Demon,” Jisoo frowns, barely looking scathed by the short skirmish, “but not just me, or them, but her too.” His gaze flickers over to you for a moment before looking back to Jihoon. “We’ve come to relinquish you from watching over her.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” Jihoon snorts before tightening his grip on his blade. This time, it’s Jisoo who strikes out first, their blades greeting each other with a shuddered clangor. They exchange a few more blows, a strand of Jisoo’s hair edging too close to Jihoon’s blade and quickly getting cut away. The cut strands flutter to the ground and settle by his feet. Instead of looking scared at how close a blade had come to his body, Jisoo shows what seems to be the tiniest bit of surprise before lowering his sword. 

Jihoon, seeing his opposition falter, lowers his blade as well, taking a step back. Around them, you see that Hansol, Minhyun, Mingyu and Minghao have stopped fighting as well. 

“Fighting like this is going to get us nowhere,” Minhyun frowns and looks over to Jisoo, “We’ll only attract more people.”

“I can’t help but feel that that’s targeted at him,” Minghao bites, “I know when to stop, the only one here who’s got an issue with that is—” His gaze trails towards Jisoo as he speaks, biting back a retort. 

A deep, almost exasperated sigh from Jisoo, “We don’t have to stay. We’ve only come to verify that the lead was correct.”

“Do you think we’ll just let you walk away?” Hansol questions, his sword still raised towards the trio. 

“You three might survive,” Jisoo nods, moving to sheath his sword, “but how many of your men will we have to kill before we escape? Are their lives that expendable?” Jihoon, Hansol and Mingyu remain angrily silent, knowing full well they can’t accept that risk. Jisoo smiles at them, he and the two others begin to make their way to the forest’s edge, but before they disappear completely, their leader turns and says one last thing to you.

“I will be back for you.” Not wanting to meet his gaze, your eyes travel to the embroidered yellow azaleas on his robes before they vanish in the denseness of the forest. 

The words whip through you like an icy chill, curling around your stomach with a fear you haven’t felt since you were a child. 

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks after he’s sheathed his sword and takes a few steps towards you. 

“I’m… alright,” you nod weakly, clenching your fists so they won’t shake.

“You’re bad at lying,” he laughs lightly, “Just wait here for a bit, we’ll have some other men take a few rounds and make sure those three don’t come back.”

“Thank you,” trying to sound as appreciative as you can, you look from Mingyu to Jihoon, who continues to stare into the darkness of the woods as if to try and spot the three figures. 

“Do you have any idea why they came after you?” He questions after a moment, locking eyes with you as if to probe your mind. 

“I’m not sure…” you relent, not knowing whether Jisoo’s words were accurate or not. Were you really what he said, a Demon? 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 20𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The incident on the night of the eleventh never comes to the attention of any other members of the Hwarang, save for the commander’s most trusted captains. In lieu of that, life at Bulguksa remains relatively unchanged, the usual grumblings from Gongmyung and his crowd continue as usual and the captain’s antics remain unbothered. 

On this balmy morning, you walk through the halls, coming upon a line of Hwarang gaily chatting among themselves as they wait. Suddenly a door opens from the beginning of the line and Gongmyung comes racing out towards your direction.

“Never have I felt so violated,” He huffs exasperatedly, coming towards you. “This is absolutely horrendous!” 

“Is something wrong, Gongmyung?” You ask with a tilt of your head, wondering what has the Deputy Commander in such a tizzy. 

“Everything!” He pants out, a thin line of panicked sweat trailing down the side of his face, “Why am I meant to disrobe in that room of utter brutes!?” 

His sentence makes you furrow your brow, what exactly is going on? 

“Someone who calls themself a physician who Youngmin met while conversing with the King’s council arrived today,” the Deputy Commander does his best to straighten his robes and adjust his long strands of hair that had gone askew. “He’s holding physical examinations.” With a frown he nods his head towards the door he’d raced out of moments prior, “That monster said I should take my clothes off in front of near strangers! When I refused, he tried to take them off of me himself! And the other captains just stood there! Without doing anything!” 

Seeing as your particular… situation might not be the best for a physical examination in a group full of men, you think about returning to your room before you ask, “What’s the doctor’s name?”

“I think it was Namekawa Yasuo, some man from Yamato,” Gongmyung huffs indignantly. 

“Doctor Namekawa!” You nearly jump at the familiar name. 

The other takes a step back in surprise, “Do you know him or something?”

When you’d arrived in Seorabeol with your father’s letter and a few fragments of some from your father’s collection, his name had been among the signatures. It was your intention upon arrival to seek him out, your father had always called him a trustworthy man. Once in Seorabeol, you found that he’d been away on some patient’s request, and after that you’d quickly gotten swept up into the world of the Hwarang. 

“I’ve got to go!” You brush away his question and barrel past him towards the door he’d exited from. 

“You’re going in there willingly?” Gongmyung calls out from behind you, shaking his head in disgust. 

Almost immediately when you open the door you wish you hadn’t. 

“Alright, next,” the man you presume to be Dr. Namekawa calls out, motioning forward a Hwarang. A nearly fully disrobed Hwarang. 

“My turn!” Junhui shouts and steps forward, only wearing the pants worn underneath his Hwarang robes. “You’re looking at years of training right here,” he laughs almost comically as he approaches the doctor’s station. 

“I think you’re fine, Wen,” Soonyoung scoffs, in a similar state of undress as Junhui, “it’s your head he should be looking at.”

“Are you asking me to beat the shit out of you?” Junhui turns to look at him, a grin split across his face. 

Dr. Namekawa rolls his eyes at him before speaking, “Wen Junhui, you’re fine. Next!” 

“Hold on!” Junhui says, taking a step closer to the doctor and flexing his arm, “You’ve gotta make sure I’m in prime condition!”

“As healthy as a horse,” Namekawa reels, sitting back in his seat, “I’ve seen more than enough, thank you.”

“You’re holding up the line, Wen,” Mingyu calls out, and you spot Hansol standing next to him, both with unamused expressions on their faces. “For the love of— please get moving.”

“I just don’t think he’s had enough time to fully make sure I’m okay!” Junhui complains, “I’m trying to make sure I can bulk up more!”

“This is supposed to be about finding medical issues, not boasting,” Hansol sighs, his arms crossed over his chest, “Move.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock, it’s now easy to see why Gongmyung had made such a hasty retreat. Shaking your head, you pull yourself from the room and back into the hallway, feeling a creeping heat of embarrassment rise up your neck.

“What are you doing here?” The Hwarang who’s first in line questions, “Is something wrong?” 

“Oh!” Turning, you see Chan gazing at you perplexedly. “Hi, I heard Doctor Namekawa was here.” 

“Ah, so you want to speak to him?” A tilt of his head. “I’ve been briefed on your situation, so I understand what you’re trying to do… But I’m not sure that this is the way to go about it. I’m sure he can speak to you once the physicals are complete.”

You nod, “I just think they might take a while, some of the captains…”

“I’m aware,” he laughs, “if you want me to, I can try to get things moving a little faster.”

“Would you?” Eyes widening, “I’d be thankful if you could.”

“Of course,” the smile still lingering on his lips, “Just leave it to me.” With that he walks into the room and towards the doctor, “Excuse me, Doctor Namekawa? Please let me look after those whose symptoms are minor, I’m sure you could use a break?” 

You stand in the doorway, unable to hear his response, so you step back into the hallway and wait for the doctor to exit. Namekawa Yasuo leaves the room a few moments later, his attention turning to you when you call out to him. 

Namekawa’s eyes narrow as he looks at you, inspecting you as if you were one of his patients. “I need to fetch some medicine from my things, would you mind giving me a hand?” He questions, his gaze softening once you nod your head. 

On the way towards his things, the two of you walk through one of the courtyards and come across Kwak Youngmin walking towards you. He nods at the doctor before glancing at you, “I see you’ve found her already.”

“Thanks to you,” Namekawa nods with a smile at the leader. 

Your brow furrows as you search both of their expressions before the doctor speaks up once more, “I came to Bulguksa to see you. Youngmin told me that Heo’s daughter was staying with the Hwarang.”

“I see,” you realize, your eyes widening as you look towards Youngmin.

“I knew that Namekawa and Heo knew each other,” Youngmin smiles softly, “So I thought that maybe the doctor knew of his friend’s whereabouts.”

Even if the Hwarang wanted to find your father for reasons other than yours, this slight clue was still enough for you to feel happy. 

“Thank you,” a bow to Youngmin and one to Namekawa, “both of you.” 

Namekawa then goes on to say how you’d left just before he arrived at your father’s clinic in Toehwa-hyeon when you’d gone off to Seorabeol. He’d received the letter you sent but once arriving had no idea of where you’d gone or how to find you. 

“I apologize for not seeking you out sooner,” he sounds remorseful, “It must’ve been difficult. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

“About my father…” the words leave you and Namekawa’s face turns grim, you already feel as if you know the answer. 

“Unfortunately,” he says once your words have trailed off, “I do not know where your father is residing.”

“Oh,” utter defeat lamenting in your voice as you speak the singular word. You almost feel bad now for feeling so hopeful that Namekawa would have some earth-shattering news about the whereabouts of your father. 

“I hear, though,” Namekawa coughs into his hand to clear his throat, “that you’ve become involved with the treatment… You do know what I’m referring to, right?”

“Are you able to explain it any more?” You’d learned of the serum, seen what it had done to those who’d taken it. But why, why is your father involved with it? “I want to know what my father was experimenting for.”

“Heo was working under Crown orders with the Hwarang to create what are called ‘Furies’,” Namekawa’s voice is low as he speaks, gravelly with a seriousness that permeates into you. “Furies are humans with near supernatural strength and speed. They heal incredibly quickly as well.” 

“Furies?” The word lingers familiarly on your tongue, it takes a moment, but you realize you’d heard the word before. Soonyoung had tried to explain to you what they are on the night that Seungcheol had been injured last year. 

“The contents of the serum are called pimul,” Namekawa crosses his arm, tone still low, “in Tang they call it ‘al iksir’ and in Yamato it’s ‘ochimizu’. It’s meant to grant immortality.”

These words sound like some sort of fantastical fairytale than what’s meant to be real life. Yet, the seriousness of the doctor assures you that it isn’t a sick joke.

“I’ve heard of its healing and strength giving properties,” you nod, “but doesn’t it cause the drinker to go mad?” Recalling the night you had stumbled into Seorabeol and the nobles who’d been attacked by the rouge Hwarang furies causes you to shudder. “And even if that doesn’t drive you insane, the smell of blood can set you off too…”

A heaving sigh as Namekawa nods solemnly, moving then to pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “So you’re aware of that as well…” 

“Why was my father doing this?” You plead more than ask, trying to search the depths of your mind to reason with yourself and come to a believable situation that would’ve caused Heo Jinsang to work with such a vile creation. 

“That may have been why he left,” Namekawa suggests softly, “His morals would no longer allow him to work on such a thing.”

“And yet we were given the pimul by the Crown to help strengthen the Hwarang…” Youngmin frowns and looks towards the sidewalk.

“It was an experiment,” Namekawa shakes his head, “and it failed. It’s probably best to leave it behind, I’m sure the Crown has abandoned its ambition with it as well.”

The leader looks up and frowns at the doctor, probably unhappy to hear that Namekawa would question the Crown’s once official decision. 

“You’ve seen what it’s done to your men,” Namekawa insists, “It’s inhumane and you know it better than I do.”

Youngmin lets out a huff of air and then falls silent. You know that he knows how detrimental it is to his men, painfully so. Yet, the pimul was given to him on official orders and a secret request from the former King. 

“I understand that you’re one of the King’s doctors, yet…” A voice from behind after a moment of silence. Your eyes widen at the sight of Seungcheol in the daylight, knowing that the sun’s rays have an adverse effect on him. “You’re not a member of the Hwarang, you have no right to object to our methods.” His face paling in the light, lost of all color, almost as if he were a walking corpse. 

“Are you okay walking around like this?” You ask him quietly, your voice teetering on worry and a whisper. 

“You look pale, Seungcheol,” Youngmin frowns at the colonel, “You should be resting.”

“Don’t mind me,” Seungcheol shakes his head and then turns to the doctor. “We use the serum effectively and at our own discretion.” His gaze hardens when they lock eyes, his voice becoming gravely serious, almost as if he’s been offended.

“It’s far too dangerous to—” Namekawa begins before being interrupted by Seungcheol.

“We have and will continue to work on Heo’s research.” His voice, behind the veneer of quiet anger, sounds weakened. “I am living proof of its effectiveness.” 

“You may be right,” Namekawa cedes before raising another point, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not forcing your body in ways unseen with the eye.”

“I’m perfectly healthy,” Seungcheol insists, “With continued research and alterations to the serum, we’ll have less casualties and more success.” 

“And are you planning on sacrificing your men for your success?” Namekawa frowns, “These men aren’t just common folk, many are the sons of nobles, aristocrats! Sons who will be missed should they just disappear.”

“It’s not as if we’re force feeding them pimul.” Seungcheol’s agitated at the doctor, you don’t know the last time he was able to see his own family since becoming a Fury. “The men who devote and give their lives to the Hwarang are the foundation of my work, they did not and will not die in vain.”

“But—”

“I think that’s enough,” Youngmin steps in before the doctor can say anything else, “from either of you. Let’s discuss this at another time.”

To you it seems that neither Seungcheol or Namekawa would ever come to a civil agreement on the ethics of the serum’s usage. But that was an opinion you feel is best not said at this moment. 

The anger in Seungcheol’s face subsides, and the corner of his mouth turns up into a smile before he bows and leaves the three of you wordlessly. 

“So…” Youngmin says as Seungcheol recedes back into the headquarters inner buildings, “How did exams go?”

“About that,” Namekawa begins, “It’s a bit troubling.”

“Troubling?” Youngmin asks, confused, “What do you mean by that?”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean’?” Namekawa frowns, “The amount of injured and ill men you have is nearly a quarter of your forces!”

“That’s—” Youngmin’s voice catches in his throat, “Are you sure?”

“I am not only sure, but it is the definite truth,” A disparaging shake of his head, “What have you been doing to these men? Cuts, lacerations, bowel pains… Need I mention the lice?”

“I’m embarrassed to hear that, I really am,” Youngmin looks as such, his ears pink as he drops his shoulders. “What can I do?”

“Set aside a space for the ill and those needing medical attention, for starters. I can send some pyrethrum powder for the lice,” Namekawa lists off and you can see Youngmin mentally making a list, “Second, this place needs to be cleaned. I can’t help you otherwise.”

“Of course,” Youngmin nods, the tinge of embarrassment still riding his tone, “I’ll have everything seen to immediately.” 

And so, the Hwarang are ordered to clean. Those who are able-bodied enough to hold a broom or a rag are sent to the main hall, Youngmin quickly barking out cleaning orders and sending them all over Bulguksa to thoroughly scrub the temple down.

“Why the hell are we doing this?” Junhui grumbles as he sits on his knees, scrubbing at the wooden floors. “I can think of nothing less I would want to be doing right now.”

“Stop complaining so much,” Mingyu sighs and calls him over, “Help me lift up this cabinet, it’s a great way to show off your muscles from earlier.”

You’re walking into the main hall with a bucket of water when you hear Soonyoung cry out, causing you to jump and spill some of the liquid onto the floor and your shoes.

“A RAT!” He nearly screeches, hopping behind Hansol when he spots the gray creature dart out from a bookcase. 

“Calm down Soonyoung,” Hansol looks as if he’s holding back a smile, trying to keep the reserved demeanor he usually has, “It’s not that bad. It actually looks like it’s eating that—is that dried up tteok?”

“Yeah!” Soonyoung says, leaning forward to get a look at the rat’s snack, “Who the hell hides their sweets back here?!”

A grumble from the other side of the room, you look over to see Kangjoon holding a boom, “Why are we bothering ourselves with work a servant should be doing? I’m a strategist, not a cleaner.”

“Why don’t you show us your school’s technique, then?” Mingyu scoffs, “You said it’s prized knowledge, maybe it can help us here.”

“Shut it!” Kangjoon says angrily, “The Pohang style wasn’t designed to help with housework!”

“You’re a little bit of a bully, huh, Mingyu?” Dongyoung snickers as he peeks out from behind one of the various shelves, “Those old-timey tactics of his wouldn’t even allow him to hold a broomstick, let alone make a dent in this mess.”

Kangjoon’s stare hardens at Dongyoung, “You should watch your mouth… Compared to the techniques from Tang it may be outdated, but I can assure you it still holds up.” 

“Oh,” Mingyu looks past Kangjoon and out one of the doorways, “Youngmin’s coming.”

“Chief!” Kangjoon spins on his heels towards the door, “Look at this, the room was so filthy you couldn’t even walk properly, and with my guidance it’s—” He stops once he realizes there’s no one standing in the doorway, “Where’s Kwak?”

“You’re an idiot,” Mingyu rolls his eyes.

“Damn you, Kim,” Kangjoon spits venomously, “You tricked me!”

“An idiot and a kiss ass,” Mingyu hums, “Quite the multitasker. Don’t you ever get tired being such a two-faced asshole, not knowing which mask to wear?” 

Kangjoon fumes and angrily stomps down towards the other end of the hall. You see this as an opportunity to proclaim your findings.

“I brought you all some fresh rags and water to help you clean the floor with,” you announce, holding out the bucket and handful of cloth to the captains.

“Thanks!” Soonyoung says as he bounds over, swiftly taking the items from your grasp and heading back to his work station. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 21𝔰𝔱, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “This looks to be adequate enough,” Namekawa Yasuo had arrived early the next morning to check the cleanliness of the headquarters. He now stands in the main hall, a look of approval on his features as he notes the sheen of the floorboards. 

“Right?” Junhui beams, “See? The doc can acknowledge my hard work.”

Kangjoon lets out something of a guffaw at the statement, “Compared to the nuances of strategy, it’s not like tidying up is a magnificent feat or anything.”

“All you did was complain,” Junhui frowns.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung nods, “And Seungkwan got to rest all day! Sounds like he was getting special treatment while we worked our asses off.”

“Not my fault,” Seungkwan raises his hands to show he’s innocent from that decision, “Jihoon’s the one being overprotective.” 

“It is your fault,” Jihoon snaps at him, arms crossing over his chest, “You’re not taking care of yourself, that’s why you’re coughing up a lung.”

“I will admit,” Hansol say, looking around the space, “It is nice seeing the headquarters put together.”

“It does look different,” Jihoon nods, also taking a moment to admire the cleanliness of the main hall, “I hope to keep it this way.”

“Then we should clean every day,” Mingyu laughs aloud.

“Great idea! Make sure you scrub the baseboards Soonie,” Junhui jokes along with the other while Soonyoung’s eyes go wide.

“But you’ve got the most energy and the biggest muscles, Junhui! Don’t think I’m letting you slide on this,” the younger argues to the two others. 

“I’ll help you,” you offer with a smile, knowing that he’d need it.

“Really?” He perks up, “Yeah, we don’t need them anyway, you and me against the world!”

“Hold on,” Junhui interrupts, “I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help…” 

Jihoon lets out a laugh, “Wen, there’s some trash over there, mind taking it out?”

“Hooold on, we’re not starting until tomorrow, right, Soonyoung?” Junhui looks to him for help.

“If you keep flailing your arms like that you’re only going to stir up more dust,” Hansol sighs as he watches Junhui scramble to big up the assorted pieces of garbage. 

You laugh at the scene until something catches your eye, you spot both Namekawa and Seungkwan duck out of the room and head outside. Brow furrowing for a moment, you think to follow after them but stop yourself as it isn’t any of your concern.

After the ruckus in the main hall dies down, you grab a broom and head outside to sweep away fallen debris from the walkway leading to the main hall. You’ve just started to sweep the broom across the agate stone when a figure appears before you.

Head turning up from looking down at the azalea embroidered robes, all you can spurt out is a “You!” before taking a step back. 

“You’ve got ancient blood running through your veins and yet you clean up after these humans?” Jisoo sounds saddened on the verge of disgust as he looks at you. 

“What are you doing here?” You question as the grip you have on the broom handle tightens as he chuckles at you.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to fight me with that?” He shakes his head, biting back a laugh, “Was your family not blessed with brains?”

You don’t respond, instead look around for anything or anyone who could help you. Of course, the entrance lies empty, all of the captains still squabbling somewhere deep in the compound.

“Calm down,” Jisoo sighs, his laughter ceasing, “I’m not here to fight today. I only want to know what, if anything, you have to do with Heo Jinsang.”

Stunned by his statement, your lips part in shock, “My father?”

“…Father?” Jisoo looks surprised by your answer, “Heo Jinsang is your father?”

“Yes,” you nod, “he is.”

The man seems shocked at first, then that emotion melts away as it looks as if he’s putting the pieces of a puzzle together. He opens his mouth to say something else but a voice behind you stops him.

“Sneaking into your enemy’s base alone?” Jihoon’s voice rings out as his footsteps approach, the sound of dirt under foot crunching growing nearer and nearer. “I thought you’d be smarter than that.”

A few other pairs of footsteps and you turn and see him flanked by both Mingyu and Soonyoung.

“In broad daylight too,” Mingyu shakes his head at the intruder, “Figures.”

“Get away from her!” Soonyoung’s more than a little adamant, his hand already hovering over his sword. 

“The Hwarang only come in bushels, huh?” Jisoo says, seemingly wanting to egg the men on.

“Watch it,” Jihoon says sternly, the tension between the two becoming more palpable by the second. 

Surprisingly, it’s Jisoo who tries to sate it. “If you want to fight, then I’ll be happy to do so… But I’m here for other reasons, more specifically, to issue a warning.” His eyes grow dark and his tone more serious at his next statement, “Stop trying to turn humans into Demons.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jihoon frowns as he watches the other carefully.

“What makes you think that we’re going to listen to you?” Mingyu pokes at Jisoo.

“You’re all idiots,” Jisoo shakes his head warily, “Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?” He rolls his eyes, “Forget it, it was useless trying to say anything to you.”

“This is our base,” Soonyoung raises his voice, “You should shut up before we decide to do something about you being here.”

Jisoo ignores the captain’s words and turns to you, a coldness in his eyes as he speaks, “Heo is with us now, don’t you understand what that means?” He searches your eyes for a spark of recognition, but it doesn’t seem to click so he elaborates further, “Your father has abandoned the Crown.”

“What…?” You say, still puzzled by what he means. 

“Why are you here?” A cold smile to match his gaze creeps onto his lips, “I think you should ponder on that. Carefully.” With that final statement he turns on his heels and seems to disappear into the shadows. You’re not sure if he just did, your mind too caught up in what he just said. 

What or who were the Demons? Your father is with them? You thought Hong Jisoo’s family to be just opposing the opposite side of the court that favored the Hwarang, was it a ruse and he’s actually some sort of revivalist? Does this mean that your father is working with them?

Who are these people that call themselves ‘Demons’? And what do they want with you? 

“Who are they?” You look at Jihoon, “The Demons?”

“After fighting them, I can say that they’re not like any human I’ve ever fought,” a shake of his head, “Not even close. I’ve fought against people from each kingdom but none of them… They’ve never been that powerful.” He muses for a moment and nods, “I’d say ‘demon’ is a pretty accurate descriptor.” 

“If the commander thinks they’re demons, they really just might be,” Mingyu says, his brow furrowing at Jihoon. 

“He is the Hwarang’s Demon, after all,” Soonyoung notes, the same concern from Mingyu’s tone riding in his. 

“This is serious,” Jihoon looks at them, trying to quell the playful argument. You feel the tension in your shoulders ease after a while, the dread of seeing Jisoo on familiar ground eventually dissipating as the moments pass. With his arrival, and how easy it was for him to come unexpectedly, you’re sure that you’ll have to have a higher guard now as you walk the headquarters. 

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 7𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Compared to the year before, it seems as if the Hwarang aren’t being called on to do as much. Both the raid on Wonweol and the attack on Ongsan seem like a distant memory as you look up at your ceiling from your bed. In a way, you’re thankful for the peace wrought on by this year. It’s allowed you to take up looking for your father again and help more around the temple. The night rolling in and covering your room in a shroud of darkness, the sound of the crickets outside chirping away keeping you awake. 

You push yourself from your bedding and rise to your feet, maybe a walk would help you become sleepy. Right now, you are anything but tired.

Treading quietly across the floor, you open your door, the hinges creaking as you push it open. The halls are quiet as you trapeze through them, in some rooms you can hear loud snoring, in others, nothing at all. You don’t catch sight of anyone until you reach the end of the hall that opens into a courtyard, a figure standing in the shadows as they look up towards the sky. 

As you edge nearer to the greenery, you can see that it’s the commander, standing still as the moonlight cascades down onto him. His foot taps in subtle anxiousness, as if he’s waiting for someone. 

This isn’t something for you to see, but a quickening curiosity takes over you as another figure approaches the commander from the other end of the courtyard.

“I’m sorry for asking you to come out so late, Jihoon,” Seungcheol’s quiet voice rings out through the nearly empty space. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jihoon turns from gazing up at the stars and looks to his friend with a small smile, “It’s a little difficult to talk during the day.”

You’ve lost all chance to either leave or inject yourself into the conversation, so you just stand and watch their conversation unfold before you. 

“How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, his once soft gaze hardening with concern, “Don’t bullshit me, I’ve barely seen you since you went to Hwangnyongsa.”

Seungcheol merely smiles softly, “I’m feeling alright since the sun’s down. If I was going to complain I’d talk about the heat or humidity.”

“I know you don’t like the sun,” The commander notes, “and everybody hates the humidity and heat. But you know what I’m asking, Seungcheol.”

“Are you asking if I’ve gone mad?” The colonel asks simply, his brow raising. “If you’re worried about me, I’ll let you know that I don’t regret taking the pimul; I’ve regained the use of my arm, I’m able to carry a sword when I thought I’d never do so again.”

 Seungcheol’s smile doesn’t seem to be the answer that Jihoon is looking for, and a frown overtakes him. “At what cost, though?” His voice low as he asks, pressing further, “When you become a Fury, you lose a part of yourself… Maybe even too much. I’m sorry if I’m not taking this lightly, I’m worried about you.”

“You’ve always worried too much, Jihoon,” Seungcheol says, brows knitting together as he cannot fully understand his friend’s concern. “This was a gift, a miracle, even!”

“One man’s miracle is another’s curse,” Jihoon sighs out with a scowl, “I don’t like the monkey’s paw aspect of it.”

“How scary!” Seungcheol chuckles, “I’d be a fool if I ignored one of your famed hunches.”

“You’d be a fool if you joked about this,” the scowl still present as Jihoon crosses his arms, “I’m not trying to be funny.” His fingers tap along his robes as he shakes his head, “You should be standing side by side with Youngmin and me, you’re a colonel, our colonel.” 

“You’re acting odd,” Seungcheol’s lighthearted tone vacating, “Are you okay?” He suddenly looks over to you, locking eyes with yours as a small smile dances along his lips.

Jihoon follows his line of sight and catches you eavesdropping into their conversation. “What are you doing out here?!” He questions as you panic in place. 

“I’m sorry,” breaking your gaze with Seungcheol you look to the ground, “I wasn’t sure if I should say something and then the two of you began talking…” 

“You’ve got more important things to worry about than me, Jihoon,” Seungcheol sighs out and looks at the commander. “Gongmyung and his men, for starters. I’ve heard he’s been acting stranger than usual these days.”

“I’ve been working on that,” Jihoon relents, dropping his arms to let them fall to his sides. 

Seungcheol nods, a gleam of satisfaction in his eye before he gives you a simple nod and walks away into the depths of the compound. You’re about to return to your quarters before Jihoon calls out to you.

“I haven’t dismissed you yet,” he says as you begin to turn. You freeze in place only to turn to face him fully once more. “I know you’re not an idiot so you shouldn’t act like one.” His voice is low, almost a whisper as he doesn’t wish for anyone to overhear him, “The more you know about us, the more danger you’re putting in front of yourself. It’s easy to die around here, you’ve seen that… Do you understand?”

“I’m sorry for imp—” you begin before he cuts you off, raising his voice.

“Don’t be sorry,” his head shakes, “Just be careful and stay out of trouble.” When it seems like he has nothing more to say, he raised a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinches it, quelling some sort of thought before he turns of his heels and begins to walk back towards his room. 

“Commander,” you find yourself calling out. Jihoon looks so… dejected and lonely after his talk with Seungcheol, you have to say something. “Can I help with the research?”

“What the hell?” You hear him say before he turns to look back at you, “Of course not.”

“I don’t have my father’s knowledge or expertise… but I want to do something to help,” you insist, feeling responsible as if your absent father’s duties had been passed to you. “I can read his notes and help explain them, he left a lot of research material at his clinic in Toehwa-hyeon… There’s got to be something useful there. I can find something to help.”

“Heo continued his research here, don’t you know that?” Jihoon takes a deep breath as to not fume so much, “Even if we tore his clinic down to the foundations to get any scrap of information, the chances that we’ll find some new research is slim to none.” 

“I can do my own research!” You push, hands clenching at your sides.

“You’re not thinking about this hard enough,” His gaze hardens, “Could you accept responsibility for things if they go south?” A sigh as he sees you begin to stumble and scramble for words, “Look, your father’s one of the top doctors in the kingdom with the knowledge of Tang medicine. He couldn’t figure that shit out. Someone like your or me with no outstanding medical knowledge isn’t going to do much better.”

Jihoon’s right and you know it, even if you don’t want to admit your faulty thinking. It’s highly ambitious of you to think that you could find a cure-all to the pimul and what your father had done to the Hwarang. As you look to Jihoon, you try and look as stoic and unbothered as possible to stop him from seeing how heartbroken you feel.

His mouth turns into a wry smile at your attempt, “You want to help and that’s what’s important. I won’t forget that.” Jihoon nods his head to show appreciation, “But you have to wait for now. The Hwarang dug themselves into this hole so that means we have to find a way out.” 

Even if his demeanor is cold most of the time, there’s a hidden sincerity behind that face that only peeks through sometimes.

“I get it,” he continues, “your father was a part of the research team and you feel responsible, right? We’re still looking for him, and either we find him, or we don’t, you’ll just have to wait.” When you continue to silently object him, he frowns a bit, “Furies are bad news, in a perfect world we would’ve never gotten involved. But this world is far from it, and they might be our advantage should Goguryeo try and help those revivalists. Only as a last resort though, the cost is still too high.”

A shake of his head, “Never mind that now, though. This is between you and me though, okay?” His words hold the same tinge of threat that you’d heard on several occasions before. You nod almost out of habit at this point. “Also, the next time you take a stroll, be more cautious of who and what you may be stumbling in on.”

[seungcheorry]

"oh- no, he's working. just let him be";

"woozi hyung is busy~";

"ya, don't go in there! he wanted to be alone while creating";

those are the most common things to hear from the members as a new comeback approach. woozi, as their main producer, is always so busy and so focused on creating that the members themselves tend not to mess with him, only dragging him out to eat and take a shower. he doesn't speak to anyone, he always asks to be left alone.

but that doesn't apply to you.

soonyoung has this little grin on his face as he sees you walking into woozi's studio, knowing damn well his friend could never kick you out.

and woozi doesn't kick you out. actually, he welcomes you with open arms (and tired eyes), asking how your day has been (and yawning while you talk). he's tired, he's worried about the deadlines and line distributions, but he feels at ease when you sit right beside him and place a hand on his chest.

"did you eat?", you ask.

"soonyoung just brought me some homemade meal from his mom", woozi says, staring at you.

"then you should nap".

"i don't want to", he shakes his head. "just let me be with you for a while, talk to you".

you hum, caressing his chest. he takes your hand, his lips curled into an "i'm in love" type of smile. woozi kisses your fingers before turning back to his software, telling you to check out what he has been working on.

woozi doesn't leave his studio to go home, but he's glad that you bring home to him.

[cherryredcheol]

little guy shelf

tldr: what the hell is a 'little guy'? an: i literally do not know where this came from.

when jihoon hears you huff for the fourth time in just as many minutes, he knows something must be wrong. after pausing the music coming out of his speakers and minimizing the tabs of production software on his monitor, he turns his chair to face you and is not surprised to hear you huff again. 

“bee,” he waits for you to look up at him before he asks, “what's the problem?” 

you huff again, but quickly pull yourself together and explain to him, very calmly, “there’s too many little guys on my shelf.”

jihoon blinks, sure he misheard you he asks again, “what is the problem?” 

you’re starting to get exacerbated, he can see it in the way you take a deep breath before explaining yourself, “my shelf, where i keep my little guys, there’s too many of them and now i can’t fit this one but this one is perfect! it has to go on my shelf.”

“i’m sorry, bee. i’m still confused. what is a ‘little guy’? and why does he have a designated shelf?” you two were still on opposite sides of the universe factory, and although the room was not big, he could not see the self in question from where he was, leaving him even more confused. 

“just come over here and look at my shelf, zi. you’ll get it if you can see it.” you could see the hesitation in his eyes at the thought of taking a break from production, but you were not above guilt-tripping. “come help me, zi. i need you,” you hoped your puppy-dog eyes still worked on him. 

turns out, they do. he got up and shuffled over to where you had squat down next to the second-to-bottom shelf on his wall. he’d never noticed before but the little shelf he’s offhandedly told you could be yours many, many months ago had been filled with little trinkets, or ‘guys’ he guessed. he wasn’t sure why you were so upset about this, though. 

“bee, i’m still confused. what exactly is the problem with your…guys?” he gestured vaguely to your plastic army.

“they’re all you! little tiny versions of you. and i’ve been collecting them but this one,” you lifted your hand to jihoon’s face. a tiny green man, bent over a barbell was staring back at him, his eyes were almost crossed trying to look at it. “this one will not fit! they all keep tipping over and then i stand them back up and then they tip over again! but he belongs here with these other little guys, zi. he belongs.” 

he gently pushed your hand out of his face, “yeah, bee. he totally belongs.” jihoon was still confused, but a little less so and terribly fond, “who else is there? who else represents me?” 

you lit up, clearly excited to explain your thought process to him. you turned, hand gently reaching into the molded infantry and remerging with a…grumpy penguin? 

jihoon was still confused but was ready to listen intently to your enthusiastic explanation, “tell me everything, bee.” he was doing this mostly to humor you, but he was intrigued.  

holding the little penguin out in front of you, you said, “this is badtz-maru. he is a penguin. he’s perpetually stuck in the first grade and wants to be the big boss of everything when he grows up.”

jihoon plucked the little plastic toy from your hand, turning it over to inspect it, “that's nice. but why is he me?” 

“well, he has black spiky hair, like you do,” you paused, looking at his long black hair, “sometimes.” you smiled sheepishly before continuing, “and penguins give rocks to their partners to show love. and you wrote ‘ruby’ and a ruby is technically a rock so…” you trailed off, embarrassed about your ramblings. 

jihoon had never thought you cuter. he reached the hand not holding his penguin self onto the shelf and pulled out a pokémon. “why flareon?” 

“oh! other than the sheer cuteness?” you were really on a tangent now, “‘flareon tends to isolate. and it’s in their nature to be lonely, so–”

jihoon interjected, “i am not lonely. nor do i isolate.” 

“well, that’s not true. you do isolate, don’t lie. and maybe not lonely per se, more of a loner. which again, you kind of are. plus, this little guy is spitting fire, which again, you do, so yeah. flareon, obviously.” 

“obviously.” jihoon was thoroughly amused. he had no idea any of this was in his studio. you’ve been hoarding toys here. toys that reminded you of him, “show me one more, bee.”

you pulled out, “a little baby, with a vegetable hat?” 

“no, zi. this is not any baby with a vegetable hat. this is the cabbage sonny angel. technically it’s the wrong kind of cabbage to make kimchi with but i’m choosing to let it slide because it’s little face looks just like yours!” 

you were very passionate about these so-called ‘little guys’ and although jihoon didn’t really get it, he loved you. and he loved that you thought about him so much that you would collect these little toys in his honor. 

“here,” he grabs the green weightlifting one off the discard pile on the floor and stands up. he rounds the corner to his desk and, “it can live here. since it’s ‘me’ and all.” he places it right next to his monitor, right in his line of vision, but not blocking anything important. 

you got up from the pile, leaving your little guys on the floor to see where this little guy had been placed. 

coming up behind jihoon you siaid, “zi! he looks perfect there!” you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

he blushed but still said, “you don’t have to keep the little guys just on that one shelf. use the whole wall, bee. my space is your space.”

[quokkareactions]

Seventeen's favorite place to kiss you

Seungcheol: Temple

~when you're laying in bed, ready to go to sleep? Kiss on your temple

~when you run to hug him as soon as he steps into your apartment after a particularly long tour? Kiss on your temple

~when there are too many people around you at a party and you start feeling anxious? Kiss on your temple

~it's his universal solution to everything

Jeonghan: Behind your ears

~he's simply obsessed with hugging you from the back and talking to you like that

~and like always your hair is in your face

~so as the helpful boyfriend he is he pushes it behind your ears

~this action inevitably resulting in a peck right behind your ear as well

~he's obsessed with the way your cheeks heat up every time he does this, too

Joshua: Collarbone

~no actual reason except for the fact that your collarbone is one of his favourite things about you

~so if you're wearing an off-shoulder top or a dress with low cleavage, the minute you get out of public eye he'll start kissing your collarbone

~and you can bet he's not gonna stop there

Jun: Cheek

~basic? maybe, but your insanely loving and caring boyfriend is a sucker for kissing your cheek

~it's just enough to not overstep any boundary in public, but still show everyone how in love he is with you

~a peck on your cheek is just perfect to any and every occasion

Hoshi: Jaw

~while cuddling your jawline is just perfectly accessible to him

~it's an easy, instinctive place to kiss while whispering sweet nothings into your neck

~kissing your jaw is also a way to tease and heighten the romantic tension

~so are we even surprised Hoshi enjoys it?

Wonwoo: Forehead

~it's just the easiest part of you for him to reach

~you're smol compared to him and he uses this as an excuse

~he also just loves how intimate forehead kisses can feel

~he's not a fan of pda but he pours all his love into the forehead kisses you recieve and that's more than enough for you

Woozi: Palm

~or the back of your hand if you're holding hands

~it's a discreet way of showing affection that conveys tenderness and intimacy

~if you ask him for the reason he'll say that historically this has been a gesture of respect, admiration and chivalry

~but for real he's just a sucker for that shine in your eyes that kissing your hand causes

Seokmin: Corner of the mouth

~as your boyfriend teasing you is his most important job and he takes it very seriously

~he really will make you believe he's gonna kiss you just to leave a quick peck on the corner of your mouth

~and then on the other side

~but at the end a kiss WILL in fact end up on your lips as well, just let him have his fun before that

Mingyu: Neck

~and that's a well known fact for everyone around you

~being in public will not stop him from kissing your neck

~not to mention the hickeys that adorn your neck all the time

~i'm sorry, but you have to live with that (not that you have a problem with it, though)

Minghao: Shoulder

~and it still surprises you every time he does it

~he loves how it brings a smile to your face

~it's a way to share an intimate moment without the need for words

~you can't blame him for adoring how these kisses are affecting you and your relationship at the same time

Seungkwan: Top of the head

~good night kisses on the top of your head is a must have in your relationship

~period.

~it's his way of providing a sense of comfort and reassurance

~these kisses are always sweet and gentle and have a calming effect on you

Vernon: Belly

~you two just lying in bed with his head on your belly while you're caressing his hair

~he moves and it pulls up your top a little exposing a small part of your lower tummy

~which results in the most innocent and gentle little kiss right there

Chan: Nose

~he's just obsessed with your cute nose, that's it, that's the reason

~it's too small and adorable for him not to be

~especially when it's cold outside and it has a reddish hue

[icyminghao]

the world of fiction

pairing: jihoon x gn!reader genre: fluff, crack, established relationship, drabble warning(s): mentions of death (of fictional characters) word count: 0.7k

summary: jihoon comes home to the sound of you crying, and he’s utterly confused as to why.

Coming home to the sound of you crying was not what Jihoon expected to be greeted with.

But he’s here now, in this very moment, feet rooted to the floor as he faintly hears your muffled sobs from the bedroom.

Jihoon freezes, racking his brain for anything that could have happened in the past twenty-four hours that could have upset you.

Did he do something wrong? Not that he’s aware of. Did you have a bad day at work? You took the day off, citing a self-care day. Are you mad that he wasn’t here to accompany you? You specifically told him not to waste his breaks despite his insistence, reassuring him that you were probably just going to sleep in and finish the manga you were hooked on recently.

Right, Jihoon’s eyes widen, you said you were going to finish the manga.

In all his years of knowing and loving you, Jihoon will never get used to the way you tend to get emotionally attached to whatever you read or watch.

To him, the ending of a story just means that he can move on to another, but to you, the ending of a story is like the end of a world you’ve grown much too fond of. The reality of having to part with the characters and the story always puts you in a depressed state for a few days at the least.

It’s why Jihoon tends to gift you books or recommend you shows that are part of a long series, so you can stay in their world for longer.

Quickly removing his shoes, Jihoon practically bolts to your shared bedroom upon recalling your plan for the day, and sure enough, you’re curled up on your side of the bed, one hand clutching the last volume of the manga Jihoon had recommended a while back and sobbing into your pillow.

You lock eyes with Jihoon’s worried ones as he stands by the bedroom door, and you start sobbing even harder.

“y/n…” Jihoon carefully walks closer towards you, slowly sitting beside you as he reaches for your free hand.

“Ji…” you whine in between sobs, “I finished the manga.”

Jihoon resists the urge to smile at how cute you’re being right now. “I know, baby. How was it?”

“It’s so… sad!” you sniffle, moving to bury your head in Jihoon’s lap as you wrap your arms around his torso. “Too many people died. But they were all reincarnated and happy at the end, so I am, too…”

Jihoon smiles, very evidently endeared by your rambling. He looks down at your tear-stricken face, wiping away your stray tears with his thumbs. “It’s a happy ending, baby, don’t cry.”

“I’m just sad that it’s over, Ji,” you pout, and Jihoon cups your face with both hands. “Thank you for recommending the manga to me.”

Jihoon hums. “It’s not over yet, you know.”

Upon processing the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, you sit up, eyes widening in anticipation. “There’s more?”

Jihoon chuckles.

While he was picking out what to recommend to you, the deciding factor came down to its length (provided that the story was good, of course). Jihoon knew you would devour books or mangas in record speed, so he came prepared.

And what better than a manga series and an anime series?

“They adapted the manga series into an anime,” Jihoon explains, watching as your eyes light up, “It’s not complete yet, but the last arc is coming soon in the form of three movies.”

You squeal, practically pouncing on your boyfriend as you engulf him in a bear hug. Jihoon falls backwards onto the bed from the impact, laughing.

“It’s not over!” You exclaim, “Where can I watch the anime? Have you watched it yet?”

Jihoon rolls over so the both of you are now lying on your sides, looking into each other’s eyes. He shakes his head.

“I haven’t. I was waiting for you so we could watch it together.”

“I love you.” you declare immediately, and Jihoon blushes furiously before letting out the softest, most endeared laugh.

“I love you too, baby.”

Jihoon may never get used to the way you tend to get emotionally attached to whatever you read or watch, but he sure as hell will do anything to let you enjoy the various worlds you end up in for as long as possible.

a/n: i have been. like. word vomiting in my wips and i feel like everything i write is so bad it is absolutely unpublishable but i just finished demon slayer and i got so sad so i decided to write this. very self-indulgent i love demon slayer the last arc broke me and i’m so excited for the movies. need somebody to match my freak like jihoon does for reader here

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @kwantaro-deactivated20240614 @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @leehanascent @nonononranghaee

masterlist

[mingtinys]

" you always come first "

pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.4 k

a/n : producer !! woozi !! that's it (:

Jihoon is exactly where you expect to find him when you get home from work. Hunched over in his chair, eyes boring into a computer screen, and pen in hand furiously scribbling away at a notepad. You knock three times to alert him of your presence. He turns to you with a wide smile and tired eyes.

"Hi," He breathes out, ushering you in with his hand. You oblige, though you don't plan to stay for long. It's been a long day and you're tired. But on top of that, you know Jihoon enough to notice when he's gotten into a rhythm and doesn't want to be disturbed.

"How was your day?" He humors. His hand settles back on the mouse and he begins clicking around the program he uses. "Fine," you shrug, stopping just behind his chair, a little curious as to what he's doing. "Tiring, but not the worst it could've been."

Your replies are rather lackluster and you can tell Jihoon notices by the way he quirks up an eyebrow at your last sentence.

You rake your fingers through his hair, smoothing back the pieces that have fallen out of place before letting your hand rest on his shoulder. He hums in satisfaction when you press a kiss to the top of his head. "I'll let you get back to work."

Jihoon cranes his neck to peer back with a confused frown on his lips. "Aren't you going to tell me about your day?"

Your brain short circuits for a moment and you just stare at him, dumbfounded. Of course, Jihoon always takes time out of his schedule to hear about your day. However, he usually prefers to finish up whatever he's working on first so he doesn't lose focus. "You look busy, I don't want to interrupt. This looks important." You wave your hand vaguely at his screen.

He just tsks, then swiftly saves his project and cuts the power to his monitor. "You're important. You always come first, now tell me what's wrong." He's spun around in his chair, already standing up to take you in his arms, and trails his fingers up and down your spine.

He smells nice and his warmth is comforting, inviting. A long sigh escapes your lips and you allow yourself to relish in the feeling Jihoon brings. Tucking your face into his shoulder and melding into his hold.

"Just feeling a little worn out, but it's better now."

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion

[wifeyoozi]

lee jihoon ✶ 𓂃   hotboxed sweet chick

w.c : 1.2 k ┊ synopsis : you and jihoon ride jihoon after getting stoned in your car. that's it, that's the fic.┊ content warning : smut , no implied relationship, , unprotected sex (wrap the willy guys), coming untouched (f), slight oral (m), use of substance (weed), hotboxing car, stoned sex a/n : mdni !! i have never touched weed so thnx to @junkissed and @yoonguurt for describing some of it to me so I can write it more accurately hehe.

The night had started innocently enough. You and Jihoon had been at a party with friends, celebrating someone’s promotion. The energy was high, the music loud, and everyone was having a great time. But as the night wore on, you found yourselves gravitating towards each other, your conversations growing more intimate, your glances more lingering. Eventually, you both decided to step away from the crowd for a bit of quiet and privacy.

“Want to go chill in the car for a while?” Jihoon had asked, his voice barely audible over the music.

You’d nodded eagerly, a playful smile on your lips. “Sounds perfect.”

You had slipped away together, finding your car parked a little way from the party. The inside of the car was cool and dark, a welcome contrast to the chaos of the party. Jihoon had pulled out a joint he’d been saving for a moment like this. The two of you settled into the backseat, the music from the party a distant thrum as you lit up, the smoke curling lazily around you.

As the weed took effect, the atmosphere in the car shifted. The scent of marijuana filled the air, mixing with the faint, sweet aroma of your body spray. The haze of the smoke made everything feel dreamlike and intimate. Jihoon’s eyes were half-lidded, his usually sharp gaze softened by the high. His hand slid slowly over your thigh, his touch light but electrifying.

You took a drag from the joint, holding it in your mouth for a moment before leaning over and blowing the smoke into Jihoon’s face. He inhaled deeply, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice thick with the effects of both the drug and the arousal simmering between you.

“You know what would make it better?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as you placed the joint in the ashtray and shifted closer to him.

Jihoon raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. “What’s that?”

You slid your hand down to his lap, feeling the hardness of his cock pressing against his jeans. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you started to unbutton his pants. “A little private celebration.”

Jihoon’s breath caught as you freed his cock from the confines of his jeans. It sprang free, already hard and throbbing, the sight of it making your own arousal intensify. You reached for his cock, wrapping your hand around it and giving it a slow, teasing stroke. Jihoon’s eyes closed, a groan escaping him as he leaned back against the seat, his hands gripping the edges of the seat.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

You grinned, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Glad you think so.” his hands reached to grab ahold of your hair as you leaned down to lick a strip of his cock, tasting the already leaking precum.

With a playful glint in your eye, you took another drag from the joint, then leaned forward into his lap, your short skirt pooling up at your hips as you blowed the smoke into Jihoon’s mouth. He inhaled deeply, his eyes locking onto yours as he took in the hazy cloud. The act was intensely intimate, a connection that was both playful and deeply arousing. You pulled your panties to the side, hovering above him as he teased your clit from the head of his dick, making you make gutterial sounds.

“Ready?” you asked, your voice a sultry whisper.

Jihoon’s eyes fluttered closed as you lined him up with your entrance. You could feel the heat of his arousal, the promise of pleasure making your pulse quicken. Slowly, you sank down onto him, feeling the stretch as he filled you, his protruding veins slowly disappearing in your cunt. The sensation of him inside you was almost overwhelming, and you gasped, your breath catching in your throat.

Jihoon’s hands gripped your hips tightly. His fingers slid under the hem of your dress and beneath the seams of your panties, digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to steady himself. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice barely more than a rasp.

You began to move, your hips rolling slowly as you adjusted to the fullness of him. The friction was delicious, each movement sending waves of pleasure through both of you. The car rocked slightly with your movements, the fog of the smoke making everything feel even more surreal. You placed your hands on Jihoon’s shoulders for support, riding him with increasing urgency.

Jihoon’s eyes were dark with lust, his gaze never leaving your face as you rode him. His hands guided your movements, helping you find a rhythm that made both of you moan. The joint lay forgotten in the ashtray as the heat between you became too intense for anything else to matter. His one hand reached up to pull your strapless dress down along with your bra, freeing your tits to his eyes. He groped the meat of your boobs as he hungrily lapped over your nipples.

“Fuck, Jihoon,” you moaned, your voice breaking as you felt him thrust up to meet your movements. “This feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah? You like riding my cock?” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “You look so fucking hot like this.”

You responded by riding him harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the car. The weed made every sensation more intense, amplifying the pleasure to a level that was almost unbearable. You could feel the knot of desire tightening in your core, the impending climax making you gasp and moan.

“I’m gonna come,” you cried out, your movements becoming erratic as you chased your release.

“Untouched too?,” Jihoon chuckled, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust up into you harder, faster. “Go on, come for me baby. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

His words were the final push you needed. Your orgasm hit you with a force that left you trembling, your body convulsing as you cried out. The sensation of you coming around him pushed Jihoon to his own climax, his groans mingling with yours as he spilled inside you, his grip on your hips almost bruising.

You both stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath as the car filled with the combined scents of sex and weed. The fog in the car was even thicker now, making it feel like you were in your own little world. Finally, you pulled away, settling beside him in the cramped backseat, a string of sticky semen from your cunt still connected to his cock.

Jihoon looked over at you, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he caught his breath. “That was fucking amazing,” he said, his voice still rough with satisfaction.

You smiled, feeling a warm glow of contentment. “Yeah, it was,” you agreed, reaching for the joint to take another hit. “We should definitely do this more often.”

Jihoon chuckled, taking the joint from you and taking a long drag. “Absolutely,” he said, blowing the smoke out in a long, slow exhale. “Absolutely.”

[wheeboo]

hand in hand | lee jihoon

SYNOPSIS. in which you take your boyfriend to a work outing. PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, a lil comfort WARNINGS. mention of alcohol and reader being a lil tipsy, just jihoon's love language secretly being physical touch w the right person, some self-doubt n insecurity on his side :(( WORD COUNT. 1.5k

requested by anon: woozi + #43 list 1 - #43: "I love your laugh."

notes: i promised myself i would try to write n post a fic for the event every 2 days but i'm def not sticking to that .. anyway i hope u all enjoy this 😔🫶 not entirely proud of how this was written dijdissnnd

join the 2k celebration!

Jihoon doesn't know why he's here, knowing that he doesn't share any hint of knowledge about finance and corporate interests. All of it makes him feel like he's a fish out of water.

The food is good, though. He won't lie about that. But the air reeks of alcohol and burnt meat at this point, and Jihoon is genuinely surprised no one has passed out drunk yet. He can feel the tiredness seeping into his eyelids as he peers around tensely, knowing that he definitely only exchanged a singular hi, nice to meet you with everyone before sitting down.

He checks his watch for the time, and also mindlessly checks the time on his phone too as if it was going to miraculously display a different hour. But it doesn't. It's still 10:34 PM, and Jihoon contemplates how much longer he must endure this social ordeal as he'd rather be in the comfort of his place...

...with you.

Jihoon barely processes the way his face lights up when his eyes land back on you emerging from the restroom. He's already picking up his body from how slouched he was sitting down moments ago. A small smile stretches across his face, momentarily erasing the look of social exhaustion.

His eyes follow you until you sit yourself down in the seat next to him, a cute, eager grin plastered across your face. Jihoon catches the slightly flushed look to your features from some of the drinking you've done earlier, but it only adds to your charm even more.

Under the table, he feels your hand sliding into his even while you're goofily greeting everyone for the third time tonight, fingers intertwining together as if you've never left. Jihoon's heart does a little jump at the touch, glancing around the table to see if anyone has noticed. But everyone seems too engrossed in their own conversations to pay much attention.

Jihoon knows that you're popular at work, and it's hard not to see why. The entire restaurant glows at the sight of you, or perhaps that's only what he sees.

It kind of makes him wonder if it was really necessary to let you drag him along. He hasn't contributed much to the entire outing except for being able to fill an empty chair. And yet, you were very excited to invite him as your plus one when everyone else only brought themselves.

But then again, he doesn't seem to mind that much𑁋he gets to hold your hand, gets to steal endless glances at your face and watch you enjoy yourself, knowing that at the end of the night you'll be coming home with him, and that's enough to make this evening bearable.

There's a squeeze to his hand, and Jihoon glances down before flickering back up to your face. You're peering at him with sleepy eyes, a lopsided smile, a small bit of dried sauce at the corners of your lips. Yet, there's some worry in there etched between the lines. He knows it's directed towards him.

He squeezes back your hand reassuringly, and before you can say anything, one of your coworkers taps on your shoulder to redirect your attention. Jihoon hardly catches what they say, but the laugh you let out a minute later is music to his ears. It's a hearty, genuine laugh that fills the air around the restaurant; it's the only sound he could discern among everyone else's' laugh.

However, his chest tightens ever so slightly, and his smile falters a little. His grip on your hand tightens subconsciously.

"And didn't Y/N have to hide under Seokmin's desk? Just because they were eating when it wasn't their break?"

"But I ended up getting in trouble anyways!" Your hand lets go of Jihoon's briefly to swat playfully at your coworker, then it isn't long until your hands lock together again. He really likes it when you do that. "And it's all because Seokmin couldn't keep his mouth shut!"

Jihoon doesn't know how much longer the conversation lasts because he's too busy playing with your hand, tracing aimlessly along the lines of your palm with his thumb. There's a nagging feeling tugging at the seams of his mind that's a bit too hard to brush off. He continues stealing glances at you, catching the way your eyes sparkle as you listen intently to another story from a coworker.

You look happy, genuinely happy, and a part of him wants nothing more than to keep that smile on your face.

When it was finally time for your coworkers to all start leaving one-by-one, Jihoon finds himself lingering near you, practically hovering as you bid your goodbyes and exchange your hugs with everyone. By the time it was the two of you left outside the restaurant, you trail towards your boyfriend laggardly, nearly collapsing on him in the process.

"I'm so tired," You mumble into his shoulder, before pulling away and reaching for his hand. "Think I'm going to pass out when we get home."

Jihoon just chuckles quietly. "But you had a lot of fun, right?"

A dreamy curve makes its way across your lips as you nod.

"Hmm, yeah," You reply lazily, somewhat tipsily. "Lots of fun."

The cool night air brushes against your skin as you walk together, the streets quiet and empty save for the occasional passing car. Jihoon can feel the weight of exhaustion in his bones as well, and the weight of your body leaning on him only adds to it, but he doesn't mind.

Your hands swing back and forth together as you stroll along the sidewalk, the soft glow of streetlights casting gentle shadows around you. Despite the tiredness, a warm contentment settles over Jihoon.

"Are you okay?"

Jihoon turns to you. "What?"

"I asked if you were okay," You repeat, a bit more softer this time. "You were just a bit quiet earlier."

He blinks a few times.

"Ah," is all Jihoon could respond with right now, because he doesn't know exactly how to answer that. He's fine, he knows he is, but there's a bit of unease in each step he takes.

You hang your head low to the ground as if in guilt. "I'm sorry for kind of forcing you to come with me. Just wanted your company, you know?"

Jihoon just shakes his head. "No, it's okay." Then he brings his eyes down too. "Seeing you happy made me happy. It was worth it."

You smile at that, just barely, though you swear there's still something else he isn't telling you. But you don't press on though, choosing to let some quietness roll over instead. The heaviness in your head had manage to slither its way to your own footsteps. You really can't wait to finally sleep.

Jihoon's grip on your hand is somewhat loose. Even though on the outside it may appear normal, you've held his hand one too many times to know when something is amiss.

"I don't... bore you, right?"

You stop in your tracks to face him. "Bore me?"

"It's ridiculous, I know," Jihoon says bashfully, immediately regretting asking that. "It's just... You were laughing a lot earlier. It's been a while since I've heard you laugh that much."

Your eyes wander over him, peering at him as if he's said the most strangest thing ever. Then you let out lighthearted scoff, letting yourself step closer to him.

"Hey, look at me," You urge him, tugging slightly on his hand for him to bring his eyes up to you. "Please?"

And so he does, meeting your gaze with a flicker of confusion. You hold his eyes for a few moments before you start to struggle, almost like you’re in a staring contest. Then a blush creeps up your cheeks, blossoming across your face like a freshly bloomed flower. A soft, nervous giggle escapes your lips, starting as a quiet chuckle before growing into a hearty blend of laughter.

For a second, Jihoon is a bit puzzled, before he feels a laugh of his own tumble out of his chest. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because you're cute."

"And that... makes you laugh?"

"It makes me happy," You answer witfully. "You make me happy. And just because I'm not laughing doesn't mean you're boring me."

Jihoon just gazes at you both dazedly and fondly, and the more he does so, the more it has you giggling even more. It could be from the alcohol earlier and it's a sign that you should really get back home this instant, but he's simply just standing there like a confused toddler, and you're happy.

"And your laugh... Gosh, your laugh," You continue on, and there's an affectionate look in your eyes. "I love your laugh. Please laugh more like that around me or I will go insane, Jihoonie."

A small grin spreads across Jihoon's face. "Then be cute, like you are now."

"Deal," You quip tauntingly, bringing his hand up to your lips to place a small kiss on before the two of you continue strolling down the sidewalk.

The silence takes over for some time, a comfortable silence that isn't heavy or awkward this time, only the tapping of your shoes against the pavement and the occasional rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze filling the space.

"I love your laugh, too."

You pick your head back up, gazing at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. "What did you say?"

Jihoon hesitates, before smiling bashfully.

"I said that I love you."

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[hannieehaee]

luna, my beloved,

can i get a very down bad (and also very horny) woozi, please?? he just gives me the vibes of a very obsessed boyfie when he's truly in love.

also, i love your works so much!!!! ♡♡♡

18+ / mdi

content: simp!jihoon, established relationship, afab reader, smut, dry humping, very fluffy, jihoon is insanely in love with reader its disgusting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, etc.

wc: 2157

a/n: thank u so much!! <3 i rewrote this four times bc way too many scenarios of woozi being down bad plagued my brain (still do), so i hope u enjoy what i came up with <3

masterlist

even after months, jihoon was unable to understand this weird feeling in his chest. one that he only ever got when he was around you (and on occasion whenever he thought about you). it was some sort of inexplicable heaviness. the beating of his heart would speed up and it would feel as if time slowed down. every touch and every breath felt like a sensible decision, and his thoughts would turn into static.

sometimes it was just in the background. sometimes he'd hold your hand or listen to you rant about your day and still be able to act as a functioning human. but there were times in which it simply overtook him.

he had had relationships before; both physical and not, but he had never experienced this feeling before. jihoon was unsure whether or not he liked it. it made him feel weak, but also made him feel more.

there were instances in which this feeling would be accompanied by lust. one accidental peak of a sliver of skin of your thigh and his lips would go completely dry. one grace of your hand a little too close to a sensitive part of his body and his knees would buckle. he was unsure if you knew about how easily it was for you to get him ready to plea for even one touch, but the truth was that it didnt matter. there was no space in his empty head to think about it in those moments.

truth was, jihoon was insanely enamored by you. some (soonyoung) would call him 'down bad' for you, but jihoon liked his term better. being enamored entailed that jihoon adored everything about you, with the pleasure you gave him included among those things. though there were times in which his lust simply grew so big that jihoon could admit to simply being down bad horrendously for you.

currently, that feeling in his chest was ever so present, and he knew that his lust was just about to take over. nothing had yet happened, but still, he felt a desperation that brought a crimson color to his ears. just looking at you as you slept beside him had him holding in a whine of your name.

to be fair, you looked angelic in this moment. you were facing him – although your face was almost completely pressed up against your pillow. your arms were wrapped around your chest in front of you, causing your breasts to press up together in the form of soft mounds peeking from under your tank top. your blanket was covering most of your body but still gave him sight of some of your shoulder. your hair was covering most of your features yet he could still rejoice in your mushed up face as you seemingly made yourself as small as possible. soft breaths coming from you were the only thing he could hear. his senses were all overtaken by you, even as he leaned down and quietly smelled the floral scent from your shampoo.

the beating of his heart was so loud he was sure it ran the risk of waking you up.

it's not that he was nervous, he was simply too caught up in you. every emotion you ever made him feel was making its way to the surface, causing his hands to clam up and his lips to run dry. he wanted to touch you so badly, but he knew that the moment he did, he would fall to his undeniable lust for you. it was hard for him to simply adore you from a distance, as his carnal feelings for you would always take over somehow.

however, his need for you won, making an embarrassing side of himself take over and pull you closer to him in order to wake you up un the softest way he could. he began to pepper kisses on the nude sliver of skin your shoulder offered him, breathing heavily as he prepared himself for what he knew would come as soon as you arose from slumber.

it was only a few moments later in which you began waking up, murmuring his name in that soft morning voice he loved so much.

he hadn't mean to sound so desperate that soon, but the moment he felt you begin to arch against his hold, – encouraging him to keep kissing any available skin – he couldnt help his pleas to let him have you in a way he relished in knowing only he had the privilege of having you.

"a– angel, please ... need you so bad ..." were the first words out of his mouth, murmured against your neck as his hands rubbed at your hips through the blanket.

"hoonie? what's wrong?", you were clearly still half asleep, only taking in his touches but not computing the words he was saying. but it was fine. he could be more specific if need be.

"you're so soft ... so pretty. can i have you, angel? please?" he didnt care how desperate his first words to you that morning sounded. he never felt any shame in showing you just how badly he always wanted you.

"oh, hoonie ...", you breathed, removing the blanket from the way and pressing yourself even closer to him.

the two of you were now curled up against each other with no distance between your bodies as you faced one another. with your lack of clothing, – him in just boxers and you in a tiny tank top and booty shorts to match – jihoon was now able to feel you up as he wanted; something which he took advantage of immediately.

he finally disconnected his lips from your skin, now making eye contact at the close proximity between you. however, before even being able to express his want for you once more, his lust won over him again, making him press his lips against yours with urgency.

he moaned and whined against your lips, his hips searching for yours as he positioned himself above you. there was no way for him to help himself. you were just so soft and pretty and beautiful and perfect. nothing couldve possibly interrupted that cloud of lust that was taking over him.

jihoon still had trouble processing how such a pretty girl could ever be his. he knew he was in love with you since the day he met you. just from a first glance, he thought you the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. speaking to you as acquaintances had been hard, but befriending you had been the biggest challenge. even back then, his feelings for you manifested in very noticeable ways. all his friends would mock him for the way he'd stumble over his words or stare at you a little too much. luckily for him, this did not last long. by some grand act of god, you had found some sort of liking towards him, giving him various obvious openings for him to finally ask you out (and admittedly, it took a lot of silent encouragement from you to get him to finally act up).

upon starting your relationship, it didnt take long for jihoon to make his adoration for you known, constantly letting you know how perfect he found you in any and every capacity. all his defenses would go down when he was around you, causing him to wax poetic whenever his emotions took over him – not to mention the endless files of love songs he had produced since meeting you. anything you desired, he would deliver just for the promise of your happiness.

your relationship had him thinking that maybe his past self suffered a grand deal in a past life; just enough for karmic retribution to grant him the girl of his dreams in the next.

and that's how he felt at this moment, grinding his clothed cock against your cunt as you whined into his mouth. could life get better than this? better than having the love of his life mewling into his mouth as he carelessly canted his cock into the warm heaven between your legs? he couldnt help but groan at the reminder than you were all his, and that he had access to every inch of your breathtaking body for his and your pleasure.

"fuck ... wanna fuck you, but you feel so fucking good like this– shit ..."

"dont stop ... i can cum like this. promise!", you cried whilst pulling at his hair, assuring his mouth stayed glued to yours.

as much as he wanted to keep letting you lick into his mouth and pulling at his hair, he was craving the two mounds that were pressing up against his chest. without further thinking, he disconnected your lips, groaning at the way you tried to chase his lips before hearing you whine once again due to his rushed removal of your top and the feeling of his tongue toying with your tit.

he practically devoured your tits, licking and nipping at every inch of them before using the tip of his tongue to play with your nipples. the way you cried his name had him losing his inhibitions, making him grind even harder and faster against you. your gorgeous and warm cunt was the only thing in his mind.

despite wanting to give you an orgasm just like this, he needed more. he needed your cunt strangling him as he chased both your highs.

"can i fuck you? please ... i know you wanna cum like this, but i cant last ... wa– wanna last for you, but you just feel so ... so fucking good."

"please, hoonie. fuck me .."

he hadnt moved faster in his life, discarding his boxers and your shorts in order to prepare himself for you, but suddenly it hit him.

"baby ... c– condom? do you have any?", he had forgotten to buy new ones before you stayed over last night, so he was hoping against all hope that maybe you had some in your discarded bag in the living room.

"no, hoonie, i .. i don't have any," your eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but he could tell you were still lightheaded from the pleasure you had been feeling just a few moments ago.

"oh, i ... i can just dry hump you? yeah, uh, i'll just–", he couldnt help himself in sounding deflated. he wanted your cunt so fucking badly, but had stupidly used his last backup condom last night.

"or ... you can just .."

his head perked up at that, halting before even starting to grind his hips against yours again.

"baby– "

"just go without it, hoonie. i trust you," you gave him a soft smile, holding onto his cheek before pulling him down for a peck.

"oh, i ... fuck. y– you– " his brain was short circuiting. raw? you were going to let him have it raw? oh. oh, fuck.

"baby, please i need you so fucking badly."

he could never say no to you. as per usual, he gave you exactly what you wanted, ignoring how badly this moment would ruin him; corrupt him and smear his brain with thoughts of your unfiltered cunt for years to come.

and ruin him it did, as he immediately lost himself the moment he entered you, groaning at the warmth and wetness coating his cock.

"you're perfect. god, fuck ... you– you're going to ruin me, arent you? you al-already have, shit ... you're my dream ... love you so fucking much, oh fuck ... make me yours and never give me back, i– i need to be yours. need you every day, fuck, please ..." he babbled senselessly as his hips went crazy against yours, drinking in every cry you released and groaning at every scratch of your nails against his back.

he was already close from having dry humped you through his boxers while he made out with you earlier, but now he knew his end was just around the corner. begging you to cum inside was likely out of the question, but his body demanded he at least try, except you somehow beat him to it.

"baby, inside, please! need you to fill me up ... fuck, please ..."

he had no way to respond other than by crying your name against your neck, relishing on the sound of slapping skin as he chased his end inside you with the desperation of a starved man.

with multiple expletives and confessions of love hidden between cries of pleasure, the two of you came one right after the other, kissing each other all throughout your highs.

now jihoon felt nothing but unfiltered bliss. he held you in his arms and caressed your body to the best of his tired ability, continuing to tell you sweet words of affirmation as you did the same in return.

jihoon was more than fine with being obsessed with you if it meant having you all to himself like this. he would gladly get teased about being down horrendously bad for you as long as he had you in the end.

[seouljazzbar]

𓆙 watermelon sugar — lee jihoon ★ .ᐟ

summary - “blowjobs are called jobs for a reason but going down on your girl is called eating out because it's a privilege” or your boyfriend just wants to eat you out word count - 1.3k warning - pussy worship, bed humping, slight dirty talk, oral + fingering (both f. recieving), jihoon cums all over himself poor baby — MINORS DNI! 18+ author’s note: i haven’t written fic in a while so here’s to me getting back to it! this is a refresh of an old fic i wrote but with a little polishing! something short and sweet for my woozi girls warnings: just a thousand words on jihoon eating pussy word count: 1.2k

There was something so alluring about seeing you fresh out of the bathtub. Your hair pulled away from your face, skin glowing in its post-cleanse state, hints of mango and chamomile wafting off of your body as you lathered lotion all over yourself. You’d had a long day and decided to treat yourself to a soak in the bath, all of your favorite products used generously in the seething hot water as you played music from your speakers.

Jihoon watched from your bed, eyes shifting between his phone screen and the indent of your spine as you sat at your vanity. Watching the way the black slip adorned your figure as you slid it on carefully, adjusting the straps the way you needed them to be. He didn’t want to interrupt you, knowing how much you loved your ‘me time’, especially after a long day dealing with your asshole of a boss. You looked so peaceful as you moisturized your face, humming along to snoh aalegra instead of singing because you didn’t know all of the words.

“Did you want me to order something for dinner? I would’ve already but I wasn’t sure if you ate and I didn't wanna disrupt your bath.”

You smiled at him sweetly, swiping a layer of balm to your lips before joining him atop your duvet. “I could go for some food, yeah.” You turned on Netflix on the TV, shuffling through the popular section to find something new for the two of you to watch. His gazing in wonderment at you staggered your focus, causing you to look over at him quizzically. “Everything okay?”

“More than,” He scooted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your midsection as he kissed you delicately, not daring to deepen it like he was scared to break you. “You’re just so beautiful, it’s hard not to stare.”

Your relationship with Jihoon was still fairly new. Navigating intimacy still made you bashful, and his eyes focused on you in such close proximity still made you want to hide from him. Your heart fluttered as the feeling of his breath on your face hit, his smile obvious in your peripheral as you averted your eyes in sheepishness. That warm fuzzy feeling was back, your face all prickly as the scent of his cologne washed over you again.

You leaned closer to kiss him again, tasting your own strawberry balm on his lips before your tongue ventured into his mouth. You held back the moan that bubbled in your throat as his hands lowered to your ass, squeezing the flesh seamlessly before you pulled away. “I think dinner can wait a minute.”

He chuckled against your lips, rolling you over to lay on your back as he propped himself up on his forearms. “Who told you you could look this good?” His lips littered kisses across the expanse of your neck and collarbones, your giggles music to his ears as he migrated your warm skin. Your hands gripped at the waistband of his sweats, fully prepared to tug them down his legs until he stopped you. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I just thought, you know, I could help you out.”

Jihoon shook his head, hiking your slip up to your waist to expose your thin cotton panties to him. “I’m not worried about that right now, I just wanna taste you.”

Your cheeks flooded with embarrassment as he licked his lips, moving so that he was laid comfortably in between your legs. You pushed your knees together to shield yourself from his line of vision, smoothing your slip back down your legs. “But I haven't shaved in a few days.”

“Baby, I'm a grown ass man. Now open up.” He discarded your panties, lugging you closer to his face as his hands enveloped your thighs. His tongue was hot as it pressed against your clit, slowly dragging up the nerve endings before swirling around it. You squirmed at the pleasure that rippled through you, hands clutching onto the duvet as his tongue dipped into your hole. He hummed against you, eyes rolling back at the taste he’d been craving since you invited him over. “So so good.”

The soles of your feet pressed against his back as he continued to explore your core, fingers trailing delicately along your hips as you refused to keep still. “Oh, my god, right there.”

“Feel good, baby?” He smirked more so to himself as he curled a finger into you, relishing in the hitch of your breath and the relocation of your hands to his hair as you pulled at it desperately.

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter shut as your head fell back against the pillows. You’d normally feel a bit embarrassed by the loud squelching noises your body was making as Jihoon’s fingers kneaded your g-spot, but it felt so good that you forced yourself to bask in it. “I’m almost there, Jihoon, fuck.”

“Let go, baby, give it to me.”

The tension in your stomach snapped as he added another finger, tongue still working your clit as your legs clamped around his head. His pace was unrelenting even when you tried to push him away, trying to rush out that you were done. “I-I came already, I’m too sensitive.”

He pulled away momentarily, wiping at his mouth as he looked up at you. “I'm not finished with you yet though.” Your taste stained his tongue in a way that he couldn’t get enough of, eager for more with each lick of your folds. He was absolutely addicted to you in a way you weren't used to and it surprised you every single time. “Taste yourself.”

Jihoon replaced his mouth with his fingers, digging his palm into your clit as his fingers pumped inside of you at just the right speed. He hovered over you as he kissed you, licking into your mouth so you could taste yourself in all your glory. You moaned quietly, followed by a whimper as he withdrew his hand from your heat. His fingers tapped at her mouth and you opened immediately, licking them clean of your own arousal without him having to tell you to.

He settled back between your legs and dove right back in without missing a beat, making your thighs shake around him in no time. He flattened his tongue between your folds as he shook his head, bringing that ball of tension back to your belly as his fingers slipped right back into you. You hadn’t even noticed that his hips were grinding into the mattress, humping in time with the rhythm of his fingers as he worked you through your second orgasm. “I don't think I can take a third.”

“Yes, you can, baby.”

His thumb rubbed circles around your clit as his tongue and fingers thrusted into you, stretching out your walls as your hips bucked uncontrollably. Profanities fell from your lips as you gripped his hair tighter, back arching at an alarming angle as you came all over his tongue for the third time. He moaned into you loudly, his grip on your legs deathly as his hips stalled their movements.

You struggled to come back down to earth, your breathing rough and ragged as Jihoon padded off to get you a towel doused in warm water. Your lips just barely muttered out a ‘thank you’ as he cleaned you up, grazing over the insides of your thighs that were sure to be sore in the morning. “It's your turn.”

Jihoon stuttered as he disappeared back into the bathroom, coming back with a towel wrapped around his hips instead of his sweats. “I, um. I’m good, actually.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized why he was good, his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “O-oh, you already… Got it.”

“Eating you out just really turns me on.”

[the-boy-meets-evil]

a new home for the holidays | ljh

(where you can't go home for the holidays and end up having a much better christmas than you expect.)

pairing: jihoon (woozi) x afab!reader genre: acquaintances to lovers, christmas!au | fluff & smut rating: explicit word count: 10.5k warnings: lots of mentions of christmas (including decorating, family, cooking, etc.), if the holidays are too much please skip this, mentions of family issues, reader can't go home for the holidays (and they actually like christmas), no gendered pronouns used for reader, mentions of past death (family member woozi mentions), woozi owns the house where reader rents a room but there are no power dynamics, explicit and implied smut, woozi is kinda grumpy, reader is super bummed about christmas, woozi ends up being a secret softie smut warnings: lots of kissing, thigh riding, nipple play, marking if you squint, slight begging, two ass slaps, oral (reader rec.), fingering (reader receiving), overstimulation, squirting, briefest handjob, unprotected sex (don't do this), implied aftercare, implied morning after sex

author's note: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays and the final prompt is christmas. i don't really have anything to say for myself. this is not what i'm supposed to be writing and it kinda just happened. merry christmas (if you celebrate) and happy holidays. i've already had christmas dinner, so if you see any mistakes, blame it on the drinks.

The holidays are your favorite time of year. Always have been. Nothing has really changed over the years. You moved away for work and fell in love with a new city. Now you just get to have twice the holiday cheer. You decorate your space in the house you live in with friends (and the grumpy house owner who’s resisted most of your attempts to be friends). Then, you go back to visit family when it gets closer to Christmas. It’s been a really great system. You’re just as excited this year as every other year.

Until your plans change. It’s only the day before you’re supposed to fly back home when your dad calls to let you know that he and your mom are sick. They know that you have a lot of post-Christmas plans (New Years, school work, and even a trip) and they don’t want to risk getting you sick as well. They insist that you can still come back, if you want, but warn you that they’ll have to keep their distance. You spend a lot of time thinking about it (read: talk it over exhaustively with your closest friends) before deciding that you’re just going to stay put for the holidays. You can plan another time to catch up with your family and have a time-shifted Christmas. After all, you think of the holidays as more of a feeling than a specific date on the calendar. You can find something to keep you busy for the 25th.

A couple of your friends invite you to come and spend Christmas Eve or Christmas Day with them, but you decline. You appreciate the sentiment, and really consider it in at least one case, but it just doesn’t feel right. Your family has so many traditions that it feels weird to consider dropping in on someone else’s. Besides, you won’t be alone in the house. (Even if Jihoon, who owns the house and rents out rooms, isn't always the friendliest. And doesn’t seem to enjoy Christmas at all.)

It’s four days before Christmas. You’re sitting in the living room aimlessly scrolling through your phone while you wait for Jun and Minghao to come downstairs. The three of you were all supposed to be heading to the airport together today, but now you’re just going to be driving them so they don’t have to pay for a ride. A sound makes you look up before you realize it’s not nearly enough noise for Jun, who can’t seem to go anywhere without being too loud. Instead, Jihoon only nods at you before he settles into an armchair on the other side of the room with a book. After a few minutes, you hear the telltale giggles of one of your best friends as he rushes down the stairs. Jun is through the door first, followed by an exasperated Minghao. Nevertheless, you see the signs he’s trying to fight his smile. You stand to meet them at the doorway.

“Bestie,” Jun signsongs when he reaches you. Throws his arms around you for good measure. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

“Jun, for the last time, we were supposed to leave for the airport 45 minutes ago,” Minghao sighs. “There wouldn’t be time to pack.”

“Details, we’ve got plenty of time,” Jun waves off. 

“And last minute plane tickets are insane,” Minghao adds. 

“Less insane with a travel credit,” Jun supplies, undeterred. 

“Jun, please, we really need to leave,” Minghao begs.

“Are you not going home?” Jihoon asks. He’s so quiet when he moves that you didn’t even hear him stand up to join your group.

“Oh, no, I guess I forgot to let you know,” you start. You didn’t. Jihoon scares you a little. He’s nice enough and he’s great as a landlord, if you can even call him that, but you’re not really friends. 

“You don’t have to let me know,” he huffs out.

“I decided not to go home this year. Both my parents are sick and I don’t want to catch it too, so we’re timeshifting the holidays,” you say. 

“So it’s just you two in the house for Christmas,” Jun says brightly as he throws an arm around Jihoon. “Take good care of my bestie, okay?” 

“It’s fine, Jihoon, I’m not expecting you to do anything with me,” you say before he can even open his mouth. 

“But…” Jun starts and you turn him around before he can finish.

“Come on, before we give Hao an aneurysm. Do you need help getting your stuff outside?” you ask. 

“Bless you,” Minghao mutters as you’re wrangling your best friend out of the house.

Once you’re back at the house, all you want to do is lay in your bed. It was a lot of work to pretend everything was fine while taking Jun and Minghao to the airport. Traffic was bad getting back, so you didn’t really have it in you to break down. Now that you’re home and in your room, the tears don’t come. It’s not who you are. It sucks that you’re not going home for the holidays, but it’s still the holidays and you can still make the most of it. Maybe. Somehow. 

Somewhere in the house, you hear a door close loudly. Probably just Jihoon since everyone else has left. For a moment, you consider going downstairs to see what he’s up to. But, again, you’re not really friends. Moving seems like too much effort, anyway. You flop back onto your bed and get comfortable. Wait until you’re hungry to actually leave your room to find something to eat. You’re probably going to need more groceries before Christmas, because you still want to make some of your favorites, but you probably have enough for something to eat tonight. When you walk into the kitchen, you smell something delicious. There’s a big pot on the stove with the burner on beneath it. 

You’re just about to lift the lid when Jihoon comes back into the kitchen. “Leave it.” 

“Oh, sorry!” you gasp, surprised by his appearance and unsure of the tone.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “I just don’t wanna fuck it up.” 

“That’s a big pot of soup,” you say.

“Yeah, I figured you might be hungry,” he says, like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“Oh!” you say. 

“I mean, I don’t know if you like Chicken Ramen soup, it’s a little spicy, but I like it around this time of year,” Jihoon says. He looks a bit awkward and unsure.

“That sounds really nice, actually,” you admit. “You don’t mind sharing?” 

“No, I wanted to share,” he assures you. “It’ll be done soon.”

With a nod, you go to sit down at the kitchen table. The silence isn’t totally comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. Not exactly. This is already shaping up to be the most time you’ve spent alone with him, if you end up eating together. It makes you wonder more about him. He seems really focused as he cleans up around the kitchen. His black hair is the longest you can remember seeing it, falling around his face as he leans over. It’s almost soft to watch him brush it out of his face. 

As you’re sitting there waiting for the soup to finish, you realize that you don’t know much about him at all. Even though you’ve lived in this house almost two years, he’s still very much a mystery. You know that the house has been in the family for a long time and he was the only one who was willing to take the project of managing it on. Or that’s what you think he said once. Someone, maybe a cousin or friend or something, thought he was a bit crazy for renting rooms out like this. But, it’s a massive house and he’s single. (There are 6 bedrooms, all with attached bathrooms, multiple living rooms, and an office that he uses for himself. The house is paid off so the rent goes towards things like property taxes, maintenance plans, and anything else that comes up.) You know he also produces music, though you’ve never heard any of it. Not that anyone has, he’s very private and doesn’t even share what name he produces under. 

It’s clear when he brings each of you a bowl of soup that he’s expecting the food to do the talking for him. It’s cute and also puzzling at the same time. How does someone who wants to speak through something like making soup have a successful career as a producer? You shake the thought away and make conversation yourself. Most of what you get are short answers, but it’s something. And you definitely learn more about him. He deflects a little when you ask about his family, prefers to turn it around so you can talk about yours. Which you don’t really mind, even if it’s a little sad to think you won’t get to see them.

“Hey, I was thinking I might go and see about getting more decorations for the house tomorrow. Is that okay?” you ask when you’re finished eating.

“You really like Christmas, don’t you?” 

It’s not really an answer, which makes you look up to find something of a smile on his face. Maybe a little teasing behind the smile. “Yeah, I just really like the joy of it all.”

“I don’t mind. There also might be some stuff in the attic that I can pull out,” he says as he stands to clear the dishes. 

“That would be better than braving the crazies,” you say.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to get up there,” he says. Doesn’t even check if you’re following him before leaving the kitchen.

You scramble to your feet to catch up to him. Truthfully, you didn’t even know the house had an attic. It isn’t surprising. It’s an old house, but still. This is just another small thing that you feel like helps you better unwrap the mystery of Lee Jihoon. Upstairs, he opens the closet and pulls out a hook to unlatch a door in the ceiling just outside of Minghao’s room. Huh. You’ve never even noticed it, not that you’re outside this room often. To your further surprise, Jihoon flicks on a switch and then climbs up the ladder into the attic. Once again, you follow close behind him. 

There are a lot of boxes in the attic, mostly labeled with names or rooms or both. You figure they probably belong to relatives. Or maybe past renters. In any case, it seems best to not bother asking. Especially since he’s making a beeline to one corner. You fight the urge to laugh. So much for thinking there were decorations up here. By the way he walks, you can tell he knows exactly where they are. It’s worth it, though, because there are about a dozen boxes with garlands, ornaments, wreaths, and other various knickknacks. Jihoon asks which of the boxes you might want and sighs when you say you want to bring them all down. Doesn’t argue, though, just tells you how to help him get them down. Even helps you get some of them downstairs.

“Guess we might need a tree,” he sighs when you get the last box out of the attic.

“Oh, I can find a fake one at the store or something. It’s no big deal,” you mumble out.

“I have to take care of something in the morning, then we can go pick one out,” he says without looking at you.

“Really?” It comes out nearly as a squeak. 

He rolls his eyes, which might discourage you if you hadn’t also caught the faintest smile. “Yeah, we might as well with all this stuff out of the attic.” 

You distinctly hear him mumbling something about the damn Christmas spirit as he walks away, leaving you to happily sort through boxes. Hope can be dangerous, especially around the holidays when your plans are interrupted. But, you can’t help it. You feel a little spark of hope.

The house is quiet when you wake up. It’s hard to tell if Jihoon is around or not until you peek out into where you all park to see that his truck is missing. When you first met him, the truck surprised you. It’s not really flashy, or even new, for that matter, just an old, vintage Chevy that’s in completely perfect condition. It’s probably older than either of you, but you’d never know by how it looks. The more you get to know this man, the more the truck makes sense.

With the house empty, you can listen to music as loud as you want. You connect your phone to the speaker and Christmas music carries throughout the house in moments. Coffee in hand, you set out to get some of the decorations up while it’s just you. But, even with the music and the decorations, you’re feeling a little empty again. It’s not the same to be doing this all by yourself. You know, at least on some level, that you’re not totally alone. There’s also Jihoon and he isn’t going anywhere for the holidays. But, he obviously doesn’t like Christmas much if the lack of decorations or tree are anything to go by. Maybe you’re just a burden on him too.

Your phone dings and you look around for a minute before you find it on the table. The surprise of who’s texting you makes you unlock your phone right away.

Jihoon: Finished early and actually found a tree that works when I was driving home Jihoon: I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want it to be gone

There’s no explanation for the tears you’re blinking away. It’s not about picking out the tree. That part of Christmas hasn’t ever been an important part to you. Ever since you moved away, your parents got one before you flew in anyway. No, it’s more to do with the little you know about Jihoon and that truck. It’s almost like his child. He’s so careful about it. Somehow, Jun has managed to at least get to the point of being friends with him. Then again, Jun can wear anyone down. But, through Jun, you know how particular Jihoon can be about his truck. You distinctly remember Jun saying he wasn’t allowed to eat or drink in it (not that unusual) and that he had to brush off his shoes before getting in to avoid the dirt (a lot more unusual, especially someplace it snows). It probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably just your emotions about the change of holiday plans taking over. But, you’re overwhelmed that he’d pick up a tree and use his own truck.

You: oh, yeah! thanks! You: let me know you’re here and i’ll come help

The tree that Jihoon shows up with is completely perfect. Even still wrapped, you can tell that it’s going to be full. And that you’re going to have to work a little harder to get the branches to fall by Christmas. Not only did Jihoon use his truck to bring a tree back, he also has several bags of stuff, including a tree stand. It makes you wonder what he actually had to do this morning. It isn’t until you have to bring the tree in that you wonder how the hell you’re going to lift it into the house. That is, until Jihoon reaches through the branches and lifts up the tree. You try not to watch the way his muscles tense under his shirt. Fail miserably, actually, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He calls for you from the living room to help him fasten the tree into place. It’s a good thing, too, because you don’t really need to be dwelling on whether the guy who’s basically your landlord is hot or not. 

Once the tree is up, he makes an excuse about needing to get some work done and disappears off to his studio. It had actually been really fun, even if it was short, to have Jihoon around and sharing in the space. It feels a little empty again. But, there’s still plenty of decorating to do. So you get to work. You’re hoping that somewhere in the process of decorating, it’ll start to feel a little more like Christmas. You consider calling Jun to answer his texts. Unfortunately, he knows your tones of voice better than you do. There’s no way you’ll be able to hide being sad. You can just fire off a couple quick texts to tell him about the tree and about how you’re decorating now. 

An hour later, you’re kind of ready to give up. It’s just not going to feel like Christmas. Not when the joy and the sense of togetherness are missing. The second that you hear footsteps on the stairs, you wipe your eyes. The last thing you want is for Jihoon to see you crying. If he can tell, he doesn’t comment. Doesn’t say anything, actually. Just puts two bags down and starts sorting through ornaments, both old and clearly new. It’s the smallest gesture, yet you don’t feel so alone anymore. 

“Do you want to listen to some music?” he finally asks to break the silence.

“Yeah, I can get a playlist,” you answer and reach for your phone.

“I have some, too. I’m not heartless,” he says with a chuckle.

“I never said…” you start, only to stop when he rests a hand on your arm.

“I was joking,” he says. 

You’re not trying to be nosy, but you see him scroll through a few playlists while he’s looking for holiday music. “What were those?” 

Jihoon looks up at you, confused, before looking back down at his phone. “Oh, nothing. Just stuff I’m working on.” 

“I’d love to hear that,” you admit.

“What? The stuff that’s not done?” he asks, abandoning his search for a playlist.

“Well, yeah, but I meant the stuff you have finished,” you say.

“Oh, um, I don’t usually share that. I like to keep that separate,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s fine, I totally get it,” you say, brushing off any disappointment, and return to your focus on sorting through ornaments. 

“Fuck it, sure. I’ll let you listen to some,” he says. Your head whips up with a beaming smile. And you have no way of knowing that it makes his heart stutter.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah, but if you hate them, don’t tell me,” he warns. 

You hold out your pinky as a promise. Jihoon grumbles under his breath for a second before linking his pinky through yours as a promise. He scrolls back to one of the earlier playlists, keeps the name hidden from you, and hits play. The first song immediately puts you in a good mood. It’s upbeat and happy, full of good life advice. Just the type of thing you need right now. One song flows into the next and you’re smiling without even realizing it, singing along to songs that you can’t believe you know. Can’t believe this quiet man has so much talent. Can’t believe he works on such popular songs and still lives a simple life in a shared house with roommates that are way too loud.

It’s him that starts the conversation up again, seemingly unable to stop himself from asking for your thoughts. It’s the most animated you’ve ever seen him, asking for your opinions and talking about his process. The more you listen, the more he seems to have to say. At times, you’re not even sure that you hear what he’s saying. This animated side to him has you so entranced that you think you’d do anything to keep him speaking. Keep him smiling like this. 

The house feels a lot warmer now that you’re decorating together and talking about anything under the sun. Talking about music seems to have opened him up to talking about a lot of things. About his interests, books he’s reading, games he likes to play. You find there are actually a lot of those things that you have in common. You have similar taste in books and in games, even offer to lend some books to him. He makes you promise that it’ll be an even trade so that he feels better about it. 

When dinner time comes around, he suggests ordering delivery. You agree, but only on the condition that you can figure out a Christmas menu over dinner. That signature sigh and eye roll make another appearance, like he’s so exasperated by the process. It’s less effective now that you’re starting to know him better. A part of you thinks that it might even be an action reserved for people he cares about, even if that care is only small. But, you’re starting to learn how to play the game too. You pout at him and make your eyes as big as you can when you ask the second time. Before you can ask the third time, he relents and agrees. 

With your favorite food spread out in front of you, from a place he’s somehow never tried, you start to make a list of your favorite Christmas dishes. Thankfully, some of your favorite things seem to line up and otherwise, Jihoon doesn’t really mind what you have. Once, he reminds you that there are only two of you, so you don’t need to go overboard. You’re quick to point out that leftovers are great and that your housemates come back shortly after Christmas. Again, he finds himself giving in to what you want. 

You’re watching him clean up the boxes and considering your next question. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he points out, back still to you. 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

“Now is that any way to speak to your landlord?” he teases, finally turning around.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” you say.

“If you can call me a dick?” he wonders and you laugh.

“No,” you manage. “No. I wanted to know…well, you’re obviously successful. Why live in a house with so many loud housemates?” 

Jihoon looks thoughtful for a moment, turns around to continue throwing things out. You think he’s not going to answer when he comes to sit down across from you again. “I like the chaos. It's good for me. I don’t just mean because it inspires me. It does. But, it’s also good. I get a little in my head, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t always have the easiest time getting out. There’s always someone around here.” 

“You secretly like us,” you coo because you’re not sure what else to say.

“I regret telling you,” he says and huffs.

“I’m kidding, Ji. I really like living here, even if you scared me at first. It feels like a weird, dysfunctional family,” you say.

“Do I still?” he asks, oddly serious.

“What? Scare me?” 

“Yeah.”

“No, you don’t. I think you’re actually a lot softer than you want us to realize,” you say and watch his face. “Don’t worry, Ji, your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Is that nickname going to stick?” he wonders.

“That depends. Do you like it?” 

“Would it matter if I said no?” 

“Of course it would.” 

He looks away and clears his throat. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a little shy or embarrassed. “I do like it.” 

“I’ll be sure to use it a lot, then,” you say. More tease, really. You’re curious to see how he reacts and you’re not disappointed. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks. If you could see his ears through his hair, you think those would be tinged red as well. 

It takes him a minute to regain his composure. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re exhausting?”

“How do you think I manage to keep up with Jun?” you fire back.

“He adores you, you know,” Jihoon says and it’s the softest you’ve seen him while talking about another person. 

“I’m glad because I adore him, too,” you say without even thinking about it. “Although, sometimes he acts like the brother I definitely never wanted.” 

Jihoon actually laughs at that, a real laugh, and the sound is so pretty. “The brother you never wanted. How does he feel about that?”

“Fine because I also tell him that sometimes he’s the brother I did want. So it evens out,” you reason.

“You see him like family?” he asks, an unplaceable emotion on his face.

“Yeah,” you answer immediately.

“Why didn’t you take his offer to go home with him for the holidays?” 

That’s not the question you’re expecting. It makes you frown a little. You had forgotten, just for a moment, that this year was different. “Oh, well, I don’t know. Jun is family to me and I do love him like he’s my brother. But, um, I guess it’s that he’s family to me. Not his family. I like them and they’re great, but it would feel like intruding to have accepted. Like I was someone they had to make feel welcome, a guest. Not someone who was actually part of everything.” 

“I get that,” he says. 

“Why do you stay here on Christmas?” you wonder, venturing further into knowing him.

His shoulders slump a little bit, like he’s not really happy with how this turned either. “I don’t really talk to a lot of my family anymore.” 

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t…” you start and he waves you off.

“No, no, it’s fine. You asked me about being successful and still living here with housemates. I told you most of the story, but not all of it,” he admits. 

Without thinking about it, you get up from your chair to sit beside him. Put your hand on his arm to let him know that he doesn’t have to share this part of himself if he doesn’t want to or if he’s not ready. But, he insists he wants to share it with you now that you’ve also heard some of his music. His grandfather owned his house and got it from his grandfather before him. Jihoon had always been close to his grandparents. He was the only grandkid to come around and help them with things. His grandmother would try to teach him how to cook, even though he was never very good. She also taught him all sorts of games, that’s where he got a lot of that from. His grandfather taught him how to fix a car himself, how to fix things around the house, just how to be able to rely on yourself. They were the first ones that he told about wanting to make music and the first to encourage him even when the rest of the family thought it was stupid. They were the first ones to find out he’d gotten his first shot at just seventeen years old. They were the ones who taught him how to be careful with his money, to not blow it all because you never knew when the next shot would come. In the end, it wasn’t even old age that took them. A car accident on a snowy night took his grandmother. He lost his grandfather six months later from a broken heart. 

It’s hard to remember that time because they were everything to him. He hadn’t even realized that they had changed their Will. That they had rewritten it to leave everything to him. If he had known, he never would have accepted it. But, there was a letter, too, confirming his grandfather had been of sound mind when they changed it. It went on to say that Jihoon was the only one in the family that came around just because he wanted to. So, he was the only one they felt could care for their legacy after they were gone. Something like that, it brings out the worst in people. Jihoon’s family was no different. First, they all insisted that he should share it, that they were owed part of it by blood. And then, they started to realize that he had his own success already. That he was selling songs and working with more people. They didn’t know who, exactly, because he never told him his pseudonym for producing, but the final letter from his grandfather mentioned how proud they had been. It got even uglier from there. Family members he’d never spoken to came out of the woodwork asking for favors or saying he should help. He had the means to do it, by his own success and the inheritance. In the end, he wound up cutting most of them out unless they were able to understand that they weren’t entitled to something he earned. 

“So that’s why I stay here, it’s just easier,” he finishes.

You’re not even sure when you started crying, but you turn away to wipe your eyes. It’s not even your sadness. When you turn back, you find Jihoon looking closed-off. It breaks your heart all over again as you reach out to him. “Nobody should have to deal with that. What they did, what they put you through, it’s awful.” 

“We all have history, right?” he asks. “I just don’t like to share it because I don’t want to be questioning if people like me for me or for what I could do for them.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I still see you as a former grumpy cat, secret softie and my…” you start, but trail off, trying to find the right word.

“Landlord?” he suggests through a humorless laugh. It makes your eyes soften at him.

“No, friend,” you decide. 

“I just dumped a bunch of trauma on you and you wanna be my friend?” he asks, partly self-deprecating, partly hopeful.

“You don’t seem so bad,” you shrug. 

“I guess we’ll see,” he says softly.

The rest of the night is lighter, mostly with you trying to figure out more things he likes as subtly as possible. He laughs when you come downstairs with the presents you’re saving until Christmas to open because he can tell Jun’s right away. You don’t tell him that you’ve already ordered half a dozen small things that’ll be at the house by Christmas Eve so that you can wrap them all up for him. You just want to see his face.

Two days before Christmas, you and Jihoon finish off the decorations and pick up groceries. Well, you’re the one who picks up groceries after insisting on splitting the bill. Jihoon has another mysterious errand that he has to run. Even though you really want to know, you decide to let him have his secrets. At least for now. You’re beginning to understand that he trusts you and he’ll tell you whatever it is when he’s ready, if it even has anything to do with you at all. 

When the morning of Christmas Eve dawns, you’re actually excited. The past few days have been a whirlwind, and you’re definitely not done, but the house feels like Christmas. Three days ago you never would have thought Jihoon was enough to bring that holiday joy into the house. Now, you’re so insanely thankful that he’s gone above and beyond. Without anyone else around, or any other distractions, it’s been like a crash course in getting to know each other. There’s so much more to him than you ever realized. 

The day passes in a haze of cooking, wrapping last minute presents, and laughter. Lots of laughter. You’ve heard Jihoon laugh more in the last couple days than in the entire time you’ve lived here. Not for the first time, you think it’s a wonderful sound and wish he’d laugh more. It’s easy to understand why he doesn’t, why he’s so guarded, but still. A person can dream. 

With all the food prepped and the tree perfectly decorated, you decide it’s time to put your additional presents underneath. Jihoon huffs when you say you just got him a few small things you thought he’d like, before returning with a handful of presents for you. Every fiber of your being wants to give him shit over it. But, it’s Christmas, so you just call a truce instead. And light up like a kid when he suggests starting a fire in the fireplace. 

“I’ll go make adult hot cocoa,” you tell him when he starts crumpling up old newspapers for the base of the fire.

“Adult hot cocoa?” he asks, face scrunched up like he’s adorably confused.

“Unless you just want the non-alcoholic version,” you offer.

“I’ll at least try it,” he concedes. His smile is soft when you squeal and run off to the kitchen. 

By the time you’ve melted the chocolate (because who uses a premade mix in a kitchen this nice?), Jihoon has the fire going and is sitting on the couch. You’re about to ask why he’s scrolling his phone when he presses a button and Christmas music softly starts playing through the speakers. You hand over his mug and watch as he takes a sip. Even if he tries to hide it, you can tell he loves it and your smile is victorious. Probably why he tries to hide it. 

You’re onto your second mug and asking Jihoon to find a blanket so that you can sit on the floor in front of the couch. It’s easier to stretch out closer to the fire. As is his way, he whines about how it’ll be too warm, even though you tell him he doesn’t have to sit with you. Still, he gets the blanket and plops down right next to you, so close that you’re almost touching. It only takes a couple minutes before he’s complaining that it’s really warm and then pulling off his sweatshirt. Your retort dies on your lips when you turn your head to the side and see the way the sweatshirt pulls his t-shirt up on the way. Or how muscular his arms look now that they’re exposed. You’re thankful that you look away before he catches you. 

It’s quiet between the two of you as you watch the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s only comfort now, unlike a few days ago. That strikes you. Has it only been a few days since this man was something of a stranger to you? It almost feels like a lifetime ago. When you turn your head to him, you find he’s already looking at you.

“Can I admit something?” you ask. 

“Course,” he says softly.

“I’m really glad I decided to stay here for Christmas,” you say, equally softly. You want to take a mental image of the smile that follows. 

“Can I admit something, too?” he asks. You only nod. “I’m really glad you did too. This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years and it’s still only Christmas Eve.” 

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward and kiss his cheek. Just for a second. Then you drop your head to his shoulder and let out a sigh. It’s the most content you’ve felt in a long time. Jihoon adjusts his arm, and you worry he doesn’t want your head on his shoulder, until he just moves it along the edge of the couch. It lets you lean against him easier, so you scoot a little closer and settle again. After another minute, he rests his head on top of yours. Without even seeming to realize it, his arm curls around your shoulder, holding you tight to him. It makes you acutely aware of his body next to yours. Moments ago, you were thinking that you could fall asleep like this. Now, you’re wide awake. 

He must sense some kind of change because he pulls his head up. “Are you okay?” 

His voice is so gentle, so full of concern. You wonder how he can sound so calm when your brain is overthinking everything. “Yeah, I just, I don’t know. Being close to you like this is really nice and not at all what I was expecting.” 

Jihoon reaches out to tilt your chin up so that he can look you in the eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something you’re not expecting. It is nice to be close to you like this.” 

That’s the other thing you can’t really believe has changed so much in a matter of days. This man is a walking contradiction in so many ways. Grumpy as a default, yet so incredibly soft. The most private person you’ve met, yet willing to share why he struggles with Christmas. Rough around the edges, yet also unfailingly kind. Constantly wearing oversized clothes, yet secretly really fit. Okay, maybe that’s not so much a contradiction as you checking him out. 

“What if I was open to it being more than just being close?” you venture.

“How much is in your adult hot cocoa?” he asks, with some obvious difficulty.

“Enough to make me a little more honest, maybe, but not even enough to get buzzed on,” you answer. 

“Then, I can say if you’re open to more than just being close, I really fucking want to kiss you,” he says. “I have all day.”

“Just all day?” you tease. He gives you an unimpressed look. “What are you waiting for?” 

“You to say it’s okay,” he says and leans closer to you. 

“It’s okay, Ji,” you whisper, lips already nearly touching. 

You’re expecting a soft kiss, are as prepared for that as you can be. And it starts off relatively soft, like he’s testing the waters. It quickly morphs into anything, but soft. It’s the kind of kiss that sets your entire body on fire. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and becomes the only thing you need. It’s steady and desperate, all at the same time. You’re not even sure how your hands find their way into his hair that curls along his neck. It’s even softer than you imagined it would be. 

“So, is this your move?” you ask, pulling away just long enough to catch your breath.

“What?” he asks. His lips are already a little swollen.

“Getting the fire going with a little music on in the background,” you tease.

“Trust me,” he begins, punctuating his words with featherlight kisses along your neck. “I’ve never gone to this much trouble for anyone and it definitely wasn’t to get here.” 

The confession is so honest. So serious. It’s completely at odds with your teasing. But, should you really expect anything else from Jihoon? He can tease with the best of them, for sure. The last few days he’s also shown that you bring out an honesty that surprises him. You’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak, so you just pull his face up to kiss him again. It’s kind of an uncomfortable position, leaning against the couch, but you’re also not really sure if you care. That is, you’re not sure you care until he turns to pull you into his lap. It’s a little awkward and you have to break the kiss to get settled. Once you’re settled, though, it’s much nicer to be straddled across him like this. Much easier to press your chest into his and keep tangling your fingers in his hair. Much easier for him to wrap his arms around you like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. You want to tell him that there’s nowhere else in the world you’d rather be. 

As you kiss him, you let your hands wander down his arms. There’s a safety in being held by him. There’s a strength to him you really never realized, kind of quiet like he is, a little unassuming. The kind of strength that sneaks up on you when you’re not really expecting it. Not only does every part of your body respond to him, but your mind does too. It’s just safe. You’re not sure how you know, you just do. He’s the kind of person that you can really trust to see all of you and still accept you. It’s entirely too much to be feeling about someone this fast, so you push that aside. When you inch your bodies closer together, your core drags across him and sends an ache through you. You do it several more times, back and forth, craving that friction.

“Fuck,” he hisses out. 

“I’m sorry, is that too much?” you worry. Suddenly a little self-conscious that there’s been some kind of miscommunication. 

He grabs your chin and pulls you back to look into his eyes. “No. It’s never too much. I want whatever you’re willing to give me.” 

“But, you don’t know what I’m…” you start. His eyes are serious, intense. You’re burning up and it has nothing to do with the fire.

“Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll happily take it. Even if that means it doesn’t go past this,” he reassures you. 

“I think I want it all,” you whisper. 

“You think you do, or you actually do?” he asks. 

You study him for a moment, looking for signs that he’s going to hurry off or something. With one of his hands, he’s tracing patterns against your thigh through the material of your pants. Everything about him seems sincere. Everything seems steady. 

“I do.” 

It’s a different smile he gives you then, one that says he’s relieved, maybe even a little surprised. One that says he’s genuinely happy. But, most of all, one that says he just wants whatever the night turns into. 

“Let’s go upstairs, I don’t want you hurting your knees like this,” he says softly. 

You look over your shoulder at the fireplace and he follows your gaze. “We should…”

“I’ll take care of that, just go upstairs. To my room,” he says and you suppress a slight shudder at being told what to do. You kind of like that side of him. “Get comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.” 

You get off his lap, quietly thankful for his consideration of your knees and kiss him softly. It’s also easy to see that he’s giving you a little bit of time to be sure. To clear your head away from the tree and the fire and the holiday everything. It’s time you don’t need because you’re definitely sure. The second you step foot through his door, you realize that you’ve never been in his bedroom before. It’s beautifully decorated in a way that screams him. When you sit down on the edge of the bed, you sigh. It’s so comfortable. 

This part hasn’t ever been the easiest for you, the waiting for someone to come into the room and knowing what’s going to happen. But, you do know what’s happening and sitting there completely clothed seems silly. In the end, you settle for leaving your sleeveless shirt and underwear on, but taking everything else off, including your bra. You just have time to sit back against the bed when he walks through the door and closes it behind him. Force of habit, you assume, since there isn’t anyone else home. His eyes drink you in, scanning down your body and all your curves. It’s so immediately comfortable that you don’t have the urge to cover back up. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he utters and it makes you blush a little. “Has anyone ever told you that?” 

“Not in a while when I’ve been this undressed,” you answer quietly with your head down. 

You feel the bed dip and look up at him, sitting right in front of you. “That’s crazy. You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known.” 

“You’re so sweet,” you say with a smile.

“It’s what you deserve,” he says and gets back off the bed. 

It’s his turn to remove the layers, stopping when all he has are his boxer briefs. You fight back a gasp (and lose, as is evident by his smirk) when he takes off his shirt. What the fuck?

“Jihoon, what the fuck? Come here,” you request. He listens, but takes his time. When he’s within your reach, you run your fingers along his stomach. Trace each ab muscle like you can’t believe this is what’s been under the shirt the whole time. 

“I work about a bit,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“A bit, he says,” you tease back.

“Can I get in the bed now? Or do I have to stay here?” he asks.

“You can get in bed, but I want to be in your lap again,” you state.

“Fine by me,” he readily agrees. 

There’s a weird sense of time with him. You could kiss him for hours, may just do that. It also feels like it’s only been seconds when you pull back to catch your breath. You delight in the way he hisses when you run your nails down his stomach. Yelp when he smacks your ass in response. But, it doesn’t stop you from doing it again, maybe just so you can get another smack. You tell him not to be too gentle with you and he groans. There’s still that little bit of clothing between you, though, and it’s hard to get the friction you need. 

It’s like he senses what you want, or maybe what you need, and he positions you over one of his thighs. Helps you move back and forth to find a rhythm. It gives you that friction that you’ve been craving. He peppers kisses all over, trying to find the places that you like. Lingers wherever gets the best noises out of you. All while you grind against his thigh. When you think it can’t get better, he pulls your shirt up over your head and casts it aside. He rolls one of your nipples between his fingers. The look on his face when you arch into his fingers is so satisfied. It makes him carry on while also kissing across your chest.

“Fuck, Ji, if I keep this up I’m gonna come on your thigh,” you whimper.

“So do it,” he answers.

“I can’t, that’s…” you start, cutting off when he sucks hard into the skin of your breast. “Fuck!” 

“That’s what?” he prompts, returning to your nipple.

“I can’t come just from this,” you mutter lamely. It makes you feel like a teenager. 

“Then I better help because I want you to make a mess,” he says. 

Before you can protest, he’s kissing you again. His thumb hooks into your underwear and rubs across your clit in time with you rocking. It’s too much all at once. Too much stimulation. Too close. Too different. It all works, though, because you’re coming undone in seconds. Making a mess of his thigh just like he wanted. Screaming out his name and thankful to know nobody else can hear you. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his, trying to steady your breathing. 

“That was so hot,” he whispers into the limited space between you.

“I’ve never gotten off like that before,” you admit. 

“I wonder if there’s anything else I can pull out of you for the first time,” he says. 

“Like what?” you wonder.

“I guess we’ll see,” he answers

“I think it’s time for me to take care of you,” you say.

He kisses you gently and pulls away. “Not yet.” 

“But,” you start, only to cut off when he flips the two of you over. 

The shock over being completely manhandled by Jihoon is all you register until you feel his fingers by your hips, tugging your ruined underwear down your legs. All you can do is watch as he kisses from your ankle all the way up your inner thigh and down the other side. When he pulls himself back up your body to settle between your legs, you shiver. Try to play it off as his breath against your cunt, still slick. You watch as he spreads your lips open so that he can lick into you. 

“Fuck, Ji,” you whine out. 

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he urges before diving into you again. 

You’re expecting it to be a little frenzied. Not that you’ve never enjoyed getting eaten out, but you just kind of see it as foreplay to get through. That was before Jihoon, apparently. He takes his time, carefully builds you up again. Has you begging for something more. Has you uttering phrases that don’t make any sense. Has you seeing stars in the darkness of the room. Has you feeling the loss when he removes his mouth.

“No, Ji, please,” you beg. “Your tongue feels so good.” 

“I know,” he says and then he’s kissing you. 

He keeps kissing you as he runs a finger through your wetness, once and then again. Keeps kissing you when he slides his finger inside of you. Nips at your lip when you moan at the addition of his second finger. You can feel how tightly you’re coiled from the build up with his tongue. The way he fucks his fingers into you, you know you won’t last long. It’s hard and fast and as desperate as you felt moments ago when you begged for him. He’s relentless, even when your walls grip his fingers and your toes start to curl. You come so hard on his finger that he actually has you squirting. And honestly, he’s got you blacking out a little bit too. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you curse when he falls beside you. “Your fingers, your mouth, oh my god.” 

“I’d ask if it was good, but I think I know the answer,” he chuckles. 

You swat at his chest, but he catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. So tender that it takes the bite out of your next statement. “Fuck off.” 

“Your body is so amazing, I could watch you come every day and never get sick of it,” he admits. 

You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. He’s laying on his back, hand casually running over his already hard dick through his briefs. You move his hand and free him. There’s a hunger in his gaze as he watches you spit into your hand and start running it along his shaft. 

“Go slow,” he requests and you look at up at him. “Watching you is so hot that I’m a little wound up. And I still want to fuck you.” 

“Jihoon, you’ve already…” you start. 

“Please. You can take care of me anytime. I want to feel you around me,” he whispers. It’s not quite a beg, but it’s close. All you can do is nod okay. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, Ji, I want you to fuck me,” you say. 

He rolls over on the bed to reach into the bedside table and rustles around for a minute. The sign before he rolls back over sounds bad. “I don’t have a condom. It’s, uh, well it’s been awhile.” 

“It’s okay,” you say.

“I guess maybe this will have to…” he starts.

“No, I mean it’s fine. I’m on birth control and it’s been awhile for me too, so it’s fine. I trust you,” you say, finding you do actually trust him. 

“Are you sure?” he checks.

“Fuck, yes, please. I don’t care that you’ve made me come twice already, please fuck me,” you insist and it works. He smiles and slides his briefs off. 

In another second, he’s positioning himself between your legs again. You lay back against the pillow behind your head and just look up at him, so impossibly fond. It’s too soon to be this fond. But, you see the same look in his eyes, so maybe you’re not alone. He lines himself up and drags his tip against your entrance. Opens the lube you hadn’t even noticed and takes it into his hand. He lets it warm up for a second before running his hand over his dick. Then, he’s back at your entrance and slowly pressing into you. He takes his time letting you adjust, watches your face for signs that it’s okay. He leans forward to kiss you and it’s so gentle you want to cry. 

You’re glad this is slow, that he’s taking his time. It’s not that you’re inexperienced, it’s just that you can’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable with anyone. You’re not sure you’ve ever known how nice it was to just look into someone’s eyes while you’re fucking. Not sure you’ve wanted to be this close. Jihoon’s body is pressed against yours as he thrusts into you, but it’s still not enough. You wrap your legs around his hips, run your fingers down his back, arch into him. Anything to meld your bodies together that much more. He’s not as vocal now, but you’re probably taking care of that for both of you. You can see all the things he wants to say in the eyes that stay trained on you. 

His thrusts start to get a little off rhythm and your moans become more broken. “Fuck, Ji, yes! Right there.”

“I’m gonna fucking come, oh my god,” he moans out. 

“Me too,” you whine. “Fuck, it’s too much.”

“Come for me, please, I need to feel you,” he very nearly begs. 

“Fuck, I’m coming!” you scream out. 

Your whole body shudders and you sort of register the praise coming from Jihoon. He follows right behind you, releasing into you. You can tell he’s trying to keep his weight off of you, but you pull him to just let go. Reluctantly, he settles his body down on top of yours. The weight is pleasant and being close to him is even better. After a moment, his breathing falls into line with yours. It’s several moments longer before he carefully pulls out of you and rolls to the side. 

“Wow,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agree. 

It’s much later than usual for you by the time you wake up on Christmas morning. But, it had been late by the time you and Jihoon had gotten cleaned up and back in bed. Even later by the time you stopped wanting to talk while all cuddled up. When you wake up, you feel his chest pressed into your back and his arm draped across your body. The second you start to move, his arm tightens and he somehow pulls you closer to him. He presses kiss into your hair. 

“Merry Christmas,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you answer. 

He adjusts behind you and you realize he’s a little hard again, pressing into your ass. Even though you know it’s not fair, you wiggle your ass against him. You’re more than a little surprised when he bucks, just once, into you in response. 

“Sorry, I’m sure you’re a little sore this morning,” he says, still hoarse. 

“Not so sore,” you answer, pressing back again.

“Don’t you want to see what’s under the tree?” he asks, the teasing clear in his voice.

You turn over so you’re facing him. “I think I’d rather unwrap this present first.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans. But, he pulls you against him all the same, clearly not opposed. 

Once you’re both showered again and dressed, you pad downstairs and straight into the kitchen to find Jihoon is already at the counter getting the coffee going. He looks so cute with his messy, wet hair, that you can’t help yourself. You have to come up and hug him from behind. Place a kiss between his shoulder blades and then rest your head. All he can do is just put a hand over yours. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” you ask when you pull away. 

“The cinnamon rolls you insisted we had to have,” he says like it’s obvious.

By the time you get those in the oven, he’s handing you a perfect cup of coffee, exactly the way you like it. It feels like neither of you can be physically separated. Hands finding each other as you move around the kitchen. Little kisses as you pass by. Just drawn together like magnets. Once the cinnamon rolls come out, and you add the extra icing that you insisted on, the two of you head to the living room. 

You think you were supposed to text or call Jun when you open his present, but you’re a little stuck on opening the things Jihoon got you at the last minute. He insists that you go first and open your presents so that he can see your reaction. The first couple are silly, but thoughtful. Just little things that show he’s actually been paying attention to you much longer than you realized. Not that he had some kind of crush or anything, just that he pays attention when people talk. When you think you’re done, he pulls out a small box. 

“I wanted you to open this last,” he says in response to your confused look. 

It’s a small box, very nicely wrapped. You open it to find a beautiful necklace, simple and stunning. Exactly the kind of thing you like to wear. But, exactly the type of thing you can’t accept. “JIhoon, it’s beautiful. But, you must know it’s too much. I can’t take this.” 

“I didn’t spend anything on it,” he assures you and slides closer so he can look down at it in the box. “It was my grandmother’s. And before you say you can’t take it again, she’d want someone to have it. She wanted to pass her jewelry on, but was so sick of our family. I think she’d really like you, so I want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” you say softly and lean forward to kiss him. 

Watching Jihoon open the little things that you got him is everything you hoped it would be. He’s so appreciative of each thing, even if they seem small to you. They’re all things he says he really needs. To him, that’s one of the best kinds of gifts because it shows that you’re listening. It shows that you want to make someone else’s life just a little easier. It nearly makes you emotional when he’s the one opening things. 

You want to stay curled up on the couch with Jihoon forever, watching stupid Christmas movies and invading his personal space. He grumbles a little at you clinging to him, but pouts the second you pull away. Sadly, you have to get up to start some of the cooking for Christmas dinner. Jihoon offers to help, knows you’re feeling a little sore, and you wave him off. Cooking at Christmas is one of your favorite things. You get your music going and don’t even register anything else. You don’t hear his footsteps or his voice talking to someone.

“Hey, Ji? Do you think I should make all the rolls? Probably, right?” you ask and turn around to see he’s standing in the doorway holding his phone up.

“Did my bestie just call you Ji?” a voice asks from the phone. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jihoon answers and closes the distance to you. He hands over the phone. “Jun was looking for you.”

“Oh, hi, Junie! How’s your parents’?” you ask. His eyes scan you and you look down too late. You’re not wearing your shirt, it’s one of Jihoon’s that you stole because it was more comfortable.

“Not as good as it is there, apparently,” Jun says with a giggle. 

“Oh, well, you see…” you start and Jun is cackling. 

“I’ll let you get back to cooking, but expect to have a long conversation when I’m home,” he says once he stops laughing.

“You sound like my parent,” you whine. 

“Just try and tell me there’s nothing to talk about,” Jun challenges and you look over at Jihoon sitting at the kitchen table. 

“I can’t,” you say, still looking at him.

“I knew it,” Jun says, triumphant. “Give the phone back to Ji…”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Jihoon chimes in.

“So much to talk about,” Jun repeats as you hand the phone back over. 

The rest of the afternoon passes too quickly. Jihoon stays in the kitchen with you when you have to cook and lounges on the couch with you watching movies when you’re waiting for things to finish. He helps wherever he can and genuinely seems to appreciate the effort that you’re taking. Well, he appreciates it almost as much as the dinner itself when you sit down to eat. Without question, it’s the best Christmas you can remember. It turns out that maybe you were right all along. Christmas wasn’t about presents or specific people or anything. It was about feeling joy and thankful and just a deep connection with whoever you were with. It makes you realize you do need to talk to Jihoon, though. 

After dinner, the two of you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. His free hand traces patterns into your legs that are across his lap. “Hey, so about what Jun said…” 

“Jun is an idiot,” Jihoon brushes off.

“He is, but he also has a point. There’a a lot to talk about,” you say. He turns his head to look at you.

“I meant what I said last night, I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” he says and takes another sip of wine. 

“But, that’s so…I don’t know,” you start, searching for the words. 

He just shrugs like you’re talking about something so simple. Maybe you are. “I’m pretty open about things when I’m comfortable. I’m also kind of an all in or all out guy. I don’t know, that’s probably too much. I’m happy with whatever you’re comfortable giving me.” 

“You’re going to make me fall for you, Lee Jihoon,” you tease lightly. You’re also testing a little bit.

He smiles at you, that soft one that makes his eyes crinkle. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.” 

“I guess it doesn’t,” you agree. 

“Thank you for being the best thing about Christmas in a long time,” he says. So honest. It’s so simple, too. 

“It’s been perfect,” you agree. “The only thing that could make it better is…”

“Snow,” he interrupts.

“Yeah,” you agree.

He shakes his head and points to the window. “No, it’s snowing.” 

You turn your head to follow his finger and see he’s right. Snow falls in light, beautiful swirls just outside the window. You can’t remember the last white Christmas you had, even living somewhere it snows. 

“Wow, this really is the perfect Christmas,” you whisper. 

i hope you liked it. please reblog or leave a comment to let me know your thoughts 💕

[seungcheorry]

it's way past 2am when you find woozi on his living room, guitar on his lap, pen lost in a rhythm against his thigh. he sighs before he realizes your presence, and that alone makes you roll your eyes.

"babe, let's go to bed", you snap him out of his thoughts, and the way he barely looks over his shoulder annoys you a bit.

"yeah, in a bit."

"it's late, you should rest."

woozi is a night owl, you're an early bird. he loves to drink a few cokes, you adore the way a lemonade tastes down your throat on a hot summer day. he's a workaholic, you know when to stop.

"jihoon", you call him again, making sure to say his legal name in that serious tone he hates. "you can finish this tomorrow."

"yn", woozi says just as seriously, looking at you. "i can finish this now. i'm okay, this is how i function, how i cope."

"until you stop functioning, and then i'm the one who takes care of you."

he can't argue with that - it's true.

woozi sighs again, not out of annoyance but out of acceptance; he puts his guitar aside, shaking his head.

"fine", he says a bit too loud. "you win... again."

he's a bit too bitter for your liking, you're too sweet for him - and maybe that's why you two work so well together.

a/n: you can't tell me jihoon doesn't take his whiskey neat, his coffee black and his bed at three 🫵

[cherryredcheol]

matchy-matchy

tldr: match with me? a/n: i am embarrassed to admit how long it took me to come up with each of these

ot13 x reader

seungcheol: bracelets

except its one of those welded-on bracelets that you can only get off with some kind of tool that can cut through chain. he wanted you both to be reminded every day that your love was strong, unbreakable, permanent. the chain was dainty on both your wrists, barely noticeable, but still ever-present. ever the possessive guy, he liked having his mark on you. and he supposed a bracelet would do for now; until he gave you his last name. 

jeonghan: lego figurines

they’re minifigs and he had them custom-made to look like you, favorite outfits and everything. they’re on a little shelf that’s mounted to the wall. below the shelf are two little hooks, one for your keys and one for his. your keys go underneath your figure and his under his own. these minifigs were a gift for you very early on in the relationship. they’ve moved all over with you and now they’re part of your shared home. 

joshua: luggage

he brings you everywhere with him so it makes sense that your bags all match so you don’t draw suspicion. so what if he was pictured with a suitcase that has a my melody plush keychain on it? he’s man enough to admit he likes my melody, but really he likes you more and it’s easier that everything look the same. he doesn’t even have to think about it when grabbing a bag from the closet for each of you before heading on your next adventure together. 

junhui: ramen bowls

yes, you could hypothetically use this bowl for something other than ramen, but that would make it not special anymore and that just won’t do. it tickles both of you to no end to pull those bowls down from the cabinet and rifle through the silverware drawer for the matching chopsticks, all items printed with a delicate cherry blossom pattern. when the bowls were purchased the intention wasn’t even for them to become the bowls you use but its too late to look back now. 

soonyoung: water bottles

he dances and works out a lot, therefore he drinks a lot of water. he was going through plastic bottles of water like nobody’s business so you convinced him to get a reusable one. so he did, and he got you one to match! yours is black, inconspicuous. his is bright orange. the reasoning? they’re tiger colors, but subtle. why do you kind of agree with him?

wonwoo: phone wallpapers

they’re lowkey and you wouldn’t know they’re matching unless you saw them both side by side and noticed that the street light in both photos looks a little similar…the pictures are always from the walks you two go on in the middle of the night when it can be just you and him without the pressures of his career. some of your best moments together have come from those nights and the pictures are reminders of that. 

jihoon: slippers

the universe factory is cold, always. and yes, you keep an extra cozy blanket and hoodie in there but sometimes your feet get cold and your socks just aren’t enough. he must’ve noticed because there were suddenly two pairs of slippers by the door one day. when you asked about them, he just gestured vaguely and mumbled something about your feet. you’ll take it! they’re also not matching so much as they’re exactly the same. he claims this is for efficiency so he can wear either pair. cool, dude!

seokmin: sneakers

he has a lot of shoes. but his favorite pair are the ones that you bought together. they’re your favorite color and you each have a pair. you wear them together often, so smitten with each other it’s sickening. he always brings these sneakers on tour with him, whether you come too or not. its a win-win for him either way. he gets to match you from a close distance or from across the world. at least he knows he’s yours. 

mingyu: sunglasses

multiple pairs. every pair he buys himself, he also buys one for you. they're his favorite accessory and he looks oh so handsome in them so you never complain. your collection is slowly getting smaller though because he tends to break or lose things (sometimes both) and if it's a pair he really loved, he’ll ask with big puppy eyes if he can have the pair he bought for you. sometimes you tell him no just to see him pout.

minghao: manicures

oh, you’re going to get your nails done? he’s coming with, and paying. they don’t even have to be the same design or anything, they just have to go together. you don’t want a super complicated design like him? okay, cool. just get the same color. you went without him? fine, but what color is on your nails? it has to be the exact same as yours or else it doesn’t count. the colors may look similar but they’re not exactly the same polish? you might as well break up. 

seungkwan: phone cases

the design you chose has a little inside joke meaning to the two of you. no one even bothers asking the meaning behind the joke because they ‘wouldn’t get it’. your phone also has a different pc of him in it weekly (he changes it based on his mood) so your coworkers think you’re a super fan with your matching phone case and pc, obsessed with the idol on your phone. little do they know…

hansol: keychains

you have a miffy one, it's fuzzy.  he has a darth vader one, it’s lego. it kind of just appeared on your keychain one day and when you mentioned it to him he casually explained he put it there the other week. he fished through his pocket to show you his matching (?) keychain. the only explanation he gives? ‘it’s totally us,’ and how could you argue with that?

chan: stuffed animals

they’re dinosaurs, not dragons, thank you very much. and yes, they are therapeutically weighted to ease anxiety when placed on the chest. have a problem with that? i didn’t think so. these things go everywhere with you. if a car ride is longer than an hour, your green dinosaur is guaranteed to be there. he’s flying to tokyo? not without his passport and his little pink friend. show some respect! these are your kids!

[monamipencil]

— hello kitty keychains and annoying co-workers | l.jh

a/n; just thinking about jihoon soft launching his s/o.

jihoon's footsteps echo through the cold building and he's met with bows from everyone walking past him. he acknowledges them, bowing back with a stern visage.

his expensive black bag is strung on his shoulder and he walks with ease, confidence oozing with his presence. to anyone who is not aware of his romanticistic nature, he's the cold, grumpy producer who hasn't touched a woman in years.

entering the elevator, he presses the floor button and leans against the panel. but before the doors could close, someone enters the elevator cab. jihoon sighs inwardly, looking at the person.

soonyoung, one of the choreographers in the company. and jihoon is pretty sure he shits rainbows 'cause how the hell can a person always be this cheerful?

he sighs internally, expecting for a social interaction to be thrown towards his face but soonyoung only bows and stands a few feet away from him.

while jihoon feels grateful, he can't help but be a bit disappointed. the horror appalls him, does he want a man pretending to be a tiger to be his friend?

it isn't until that the elevator dings, when soonyoung speaks. a smirk lines his lips with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “nice keychain.”

the younger stares at him, confused as he steps out with a wink. jihoon leans down to look at his bag, and-ah there it is. a hello kitty keychain hangs by one of the zippers.

right then, a text message pops up from you, asking him if he reached safely. a soft smiles graces his features and pink tints his skin.

he sends a text along with a selfie of him. following it up with a 'thank you for the keychain.'

thoughts of you flood his mind. he clears up his schedule to watch the new episodes of an anime with you and also arranges a dinner date with you because he wants to. and a thought of soonyoung being a sexist pops up but is quickly pushed down by the thought of making it official with you.

his smile widens, and a deeper shade of pink tints his cheeks and ears. he doesn't care that anyone may walk through the elevator, and find the senior producer blushing and smiling like a teenager.

he takes a few pictures (with the help of mingyu) and uploads them on his instagram. a picture of him with the bag and the keychain along with a picture of two silhouettes by the han river graces his account.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

[wooziorgans]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6F9r1Ivqfw/?igsh=MTl3cW11MXl1czB3Nw==

AM I ABNORMAL FOR THINKING JIHOON IS AN ASS STARE-ER!?!!?? WITH SMIRK?!!!!????!? THEN DOES HE GROPES THE ONE HE OWNS(mine)?!!!?!!!?

WHY HE LOOKING SO HAWT THERE 🤧💔

Dude Always going around looking like a sweet and salty bulky bun, the one you CANNOT resist 😭😖

I will someday stab myself with no hesitation for thinking these stuffs🤡

But right I need peace (and good fucking by jih-) bye.

jihoon as an ass man

reel link

i am saying this as someone who is a massive fruit. but woozi is genuinely one of the most sexually ambiguous people i have ever seen and therefore i am completely convinced he’s an ass man. men? women? other? asses are universal!

also just,,? with an ass like that,,,, he obviously had some sort of appreciation for asses so um. here are some little headcannons i have for him as an ass enjoyer.

includes some nsfw ones so mdni

once you get comfortable w him in a relationship, he’s allllll up in ur shit. making coffee for him in the morning? he’s riiight behind you with a hand on your ass!

if he’s tired and stressed he’ll squeeze it just because it’s there.

one of his favourite ways to lay with you is you on your stomach doing whatever on your phone n he will just put his head right on your ass and use it as a pillow, hands massaging your thighs.

if you work out, he is like your very own personal trainer. i truly believe that even if you’re not a massive gym rat like him, even dating him would put you in the best physical shape of your life. but back to the gym itself,,, he definitely gets behind you to spot you when you do squats. and it’s totally innocent until it’s not!

he’s strong and i think everyone knows that. even if he doesn’t mean to, he’s displaying his strength by picking you up and letting you wrap your legs around his waist with both hands on your ass to support you as he carries you into the bedroom.

he loooooves when you sit on his lap cus he can feel your ass right against him. and if you’re facing him to kiss him, his hands are right on it.

if you’re into anal at ALL he is soooo down to try it with you. lets you prep yourself and then he’s rearranging your guts from both holes. he definitely likes to double dip,,, loves alternating between holes just to see you lose your mind.

even if your not fully doing butt stuff i think sometimes he’ll just slip a finger inside for extra stimulation. he loves watching the way his fingers and cock disappear into you. definitely makes him fuck you a little harder and cum a little faster.

when he has the energy or needs to burn off some steam, doggy style. dogggyyyy styyylllleee oh god. that way he can slap it and grip it and spread you apart as he fucks you.

i don’t necessarily know if he’d be down to take it though. like you’d have to be in a long term relationship for him to let you fuck him, but if he ever agrees i think he’d completely give up control and let you do all the work. he’d be a moaner for sure,,, all breathy and desperate n high pitched.

that being said, when you give him head, give him a little external prostate stimulation and he’s a goner. he miiight let you rim him, but it’s iffy. idk he’s just such a man to me that i feel like that’s a level of vulnerability he’s not totally comfortable with, at least not at first.

also as much as he would never admit it out loud, he loooves when you grope him. his ass is just so nice and firm from all the work he puts into the gym, and he definitely appreciates the feedback you give him.

also if you ever are walking behind him and you slap it, he’d let out a little high pitched noise in shock and then laugh it off but ohhh lord is he flustered at your outward appreciation of his… assets.

ok that’s all i got for right now.

[mingtinys]

lost for words

pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader

fluff , drabble , ultimate simp jihoon

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

requested ? no

a/n : this is what i imagine it would sound like if woozi wrote his own "shall i compare thee to a summers day"

Jihoon is nothing short of talented. A maestro amongst artists and a musical prodigy to his peers.

He can pluck strings until they sing and make his fingertips fly across piano keys in a way that makes them melt together into a symphony. He can breathe life into a school child's recorder that could charm a brewing storm and he can fit together words like a jigsaw to reveal a lyrical masterpiece worthy of the Louvre. Trust, Jihoon has no qualms over his musical competence.

But how is it that he struggles to find any combination of words suitable to the occasion? Why now does his brain falter when it thinks of ways to encompass just how much he loves you? Not a dictionary in the world would be adequate enough to measure that of which he feels.

Because what he feels for you could not possibly be contained to ink on paper, you're much too special for something as archaic as that. Everything about you is so breathtaking. An enigma he's simply been blessed to experience in this lifetime. Jihoon could carve your likeness into crystal under the moonlight and it wouldn't be nearly as mesmerizing as the real thing.

Jihoon believes you outshine even the brightest stars against a jet-black sky. He'd choose the ones in your eyes to stare at for hours over the Milky Way in a heartbeat. Your voice sings a sweeter melody than Apollo's harp on a warm summer day. One he wishes he could capture and play on a loop for all of eternity. If all of history's greatest composers put their minds to one piece, still, they could not conduct a symphony worthy of your essence.

And, oh, how you call his name has him hearing bells. You light a fire inside him like flint dragged across steel— like a bow across strings. Your hand fits into his palm like the bout of a violin and he can't get enough of the harmony you bring to his life. Just your presence alone grounds him in ways he never knew possible.

When he kisses your lips, Jihoon can taste a song so decedent it leaves him full for days. Soft and delicate touches that crescendo into passion personified pluck at the strings of his heart in the late hours. The feeling of his arms around your waist as you sleep provides an indomitable security. Your even breaths fan against his collarbone like a lullaby, easing him to sleep. Then, when he wakes, you're still there, greeting him like a songbird.

You are his muse, his life, and everything more.

Jihoon understands now why so many of history's greatest ballads are written for lovers. Because the human language is a fickle thing. Always changing, never quite perfect, unsatisfactory in the eyes of man. Music lives on for centuries beyond their composers. It is, by all definitions of the word, immortal. There will always be someone to enjoy its tune and pass it down for years to come.

A song is but a time capsule of the memories that brought it to life. And Jihoon is not a man selfish enough to deny future generations of your beauty. He would write a song a day if it meant cementing your memory in history.

If only he could find the words.

"Are you ready?" Seungcheol's deep voice pierces through the thin silence.

"Not at all." Jihoon inhales as deeply as he can in his suit that feels one away thread from being too tight, then exhales slowly. The parchment with his vows crinkles and folds at the bend between his fingers.

The words in his palm are no soliloquy, but his heart bled them with every ounce of love he could muster through shaky hands. And the gold band on his finger is a gentle reminder he has a lifetime to spend writing ballads in your honor. There are only two words he needs to worry about right now.

I do.