Hi! (^3^)/ I Really Liked The Way You Wrote "Mornings With You" And I Wanted To Request If You Can Make

Hi! (^3^)/ I really liked the way you wrote "Mornings With You" and I wanted to request if you can make a version with Seungcheol if you want to. Thankies in advance (●•^-^•●) 💜💜💜

fren u r in luck :D

lucky in love | choi seungcheol

fluff | 730 words | no warnings

an: tbh that wonu fic was actually a cheol fic but then i realised… i have way too many… (i need help)

Choi Seungcheol knows that he’s loved. He’s loved by his fans, who greet him with resounding cheers every time he comes on stage. He’s loved by his members, whom he has gone through multiple trials and tribulations by each others’ sides. He’s loved by his family, who have given and will continue to give their unwavering support for everything he wishes to pursue. Most of all, he knows that he’s loved by you.

It’s evident in the way you know his coffee order by heart. In the way your pinkies stay connected even while you’re talking to someone else. He sees it when you unknowingly lean into him in crowded spaces. How you nag at him to take better care of himself and eat his meals on time. How your eyes seem to sparkle a billion times more when you see him walking into the room.

He knows just how much he’s loved by you when he arrives home and spots you knocked out on the living room couch. Seungcheol smiles quietly to himself, removing his shoes aside before carefully walking up to you. The television in front of you is still running, but you’re cross-legged with Kkuma snoozing away in your lap. No doubt you were doing some work before Kkuma deemed herself more important – your laptop is tossed to the other side of the couch, screen dark.

He sinks into the couch next to you, hand outstretched as he leans over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear when Kkuma stirs awake in your lap. The little white dog yaps when she realises her father has returned, bounding over to him instead. He giggles as she attempts to lick his face all over. The sudden noise and movement wake you, sleepily turning over only to be greeted by the sight of your lover doused in dog saliva.

“Hey,” a sleepy smile graces your features, greeted by Seungcheol trying to calm the excited puppy down. He turns to you, a fond smile and an eyebrow raised. Understanding his silent question, you stretch your arms up, leaning into his shoulder as you scrunch your nose. “I wanted to wait for you to come home,” a cheeky grin appears. “Welcome home!”

Oh, he feels his heartstrings being pulled, and suddenly he’s overcome with a wave of love and adoration so strong that his eyes start to water. Kkuma jumps off, her little paws padding off elsewhere as Seungcheol pulls you into his arms.

“I’m home,” he murmurs into your hair. His hand engulfs your own, grip tightening with the sudden proclamation. His brows furrow deeper as he inhales deeply, taking in your familiar comforting scent. “Practice was so hard today – missed you a bit more than usual.”

“Aww, my big baby…” You can’t help but coo. Using your free hand, you smooth the wrinkles between his brows with your thumb. “You did well today, do you wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head, choosing instead to bury his slumping figure in the crook of your neck.

“Have you eaten?” He nods, fluffy hair tickling you. “Do you want to take a shower first then? I’ll make some chamomile tea for you.”

You gently guide Seungcheol into the bathroom, leaving him to clean himself up while you prepare his promised tea.

Fresh out of the shower and nighttime routine completed, Seungcheol finds you already tucked into bed and follows suit. He wraps himself around you, arms and legs tangling under the sheets. Seungcheol can feel his entire body relax under your soothing touch as you card gentle fingers through his hair.

He’s fighting sleep, especially with you patting his head like a child, when he remembers something he’d been meaning to say.

“I don’t have to go to the company tomorrow.”

“Hmm?” You squint through the darkness, barely making out the twinkle hidden behind his tired eyes.

He smiles, pressing soft kisses by your collarbone. “I’m all yours tomorrow, do you want to do anything?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

You ponder a little bit more before resting your head back down on his chest. “Eh, it’s tomorrow’s problem. ‘m sleepy now.”

Seungcheol lets out a light chuckle. He pulls the covers higher over your bodies, pressing you impossibly closer to him. He knows he’ll spoil you senseless tomorrow anyway.

“Sounds good. Good night, baby.”

“Good night, Cheollie.”

He hopes you know how much he loves you too.

Lovely little domestic prompts number 2 with WONWOO or jeonghan maybe?

I love your writing!!

eeee thank you so much for requesting!! I have a lil something planned for Wonwoo already but I haven't written for Jeonghan yet so I went with him! hope you enjoy ilyyyyy

word count: ~700

Jeonghan knows you think you’re being slick, pulling him in for a kiss just before he wanders into the island, running to grab a book for him so he doesn’t bump his elbow into the hard edge of the shelf, draping blankets over the back of the couch because he always winds up with bruises when he launches himself over the top. It’s true that he gets shy when people try to take care of him, would much rather be the one fussing than the one being fussed over, but he can’t say he minds when it’s you. 

He’s never felt like this before, never wanted someone to take care of him like this, until he met you. You’re just too perceptive for your own good, always noticing when he holds his arm a bit differently or when his hip feels tender or when his back is bruised in the same line as the edge of the couch. In the beginning, Jeonghan really didn’t notice what you were doing, and he had to hand it to you because normally, he’s the one secretly protecting people. He keeps it a secret because he has to maintain his couldn’t care less image, but he assumes you stay sneaky because you think he’ll be annoyed that you’re babying him. 

And maybe that’s how he would’ve seen it, if it was anyone but you. Anyone but you, who makes sure all of your friends have a ride home at the end of the night, you, who orders dinner to the office when they’ve all been working for hours with no break, you, who always asks the quiet ones what they were saying when they’ve been interrupted. 

How could he be annoyed when you’re the one who sees how much Mingyu shrinks when they’re being just a bit too mean, and leap in to defend him? You’re the one who notices when Minghao starts pulling away, needing some space, and provide a distraction so he can escape without questions. You’re the one who can differentiate between regular Soonyoung behavior and when he’s actually excited about something, and always give him your full attention, never realizing how Soonyoung glows after. You’re the one who can tell when Jihoon is nervous to show them a song, and as soon as he looks away, you glare at all of them to make sure they know too. You’re the one who keeps every bracelet and necklace Shua makes you, you’re the one who listens to Wonwoo whenever he reaches a new level in his game and is excited to tell someone, you’re the one who watches Chan’s new choreo with rapt attention and applaud before he’s even done panting. 

You’re just a natural caregiver, it’s who you are, and Jeonghan wouldn’t change you for anything. 

Not when you care for his friends just as much, if not more, than he does. Especially not when you’re one of the only people who can take care of him without making him feel babied. 

So, when his chopsticks roll off the table and he ducks down to get them, he doesn’t bother worrying about hitting his head on the way up, because he knows your hand will be there. And there it is, he thinks, feeling his hair brush over your fingers and looking over to see you still in conversation with Cheol. It must be instinctual by now, your drive to keep him safe, and Jeonghan can’t stop himself from grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and pressing a kiss to your skin. He doesn’t see a reason to stop himself, not when you look over at him with a small smile, squeezing his hand in yours, and lean down to press a quick kiss to his shoulder. 

Jeonghan doesn’t thank you out loud, knows that’ll make you nervous and shy, but he has his own ways of showing his appreciation. And if some of those ways are just as enjoyable for him as they are for you, well, that’s his business.

i’m seeking revenge, what about you?

synopsis : after the great war of decline, the republic of andromeda made a way for the holy empire of montefeltro. after distinguishing yourself on the battlefield, you became a marshal of the empire, known to be the hero who put an end to the war. despite all the glory and fame, you seemed to be unable to get over your brother’s death. but one day, you discover that his death was a smokescreen. as you’re going into further investigations to put lights on his murder, you’re followed by the most infamous assassin of the empire. when he tells you he only wishes for its downfall, you both realise you’re seeking the same goal : revenge. but will you be able to work with him?

pairing : assassin!jeonghan x marshal!reader

genre : e2l, your family name is jeon but none physical description, wonwoo is your brother, you-want-to-kiss-me-so-bad energy, some suggestive jokes, very inaccurate military setting im only here for the vibes, tw : blood, death, swearing, war

word count : 8k w

a/n : i was so so excited to write this fic so i hope you’ll like it!! i had the purple hyacinth as inspo which is probably one of my fav webtoon. this is the longer version of this post

jeon y/n. 

all over the holy empire, this name resonated as the one of a hero, even a goddess for some. the strongest sword fighter of the country and the brightest mind among the armed forces. the youngest soldier of all time appointed as a marshal who prevented thousands of death. the scariest military whose strategies never failed and managed to kill the leader of the opposing country, taking down an important part of the army by herself. the current leader of the district of orpheus, the biggest of the whole empire, dubbed by the emperor himself. 

but the truth was, you were far from a goddess.

as you wandered into the city, you wondered how you could be so surrounded and so lonely in the same time. yes you managed to save hundreds of civilians, yes you killed the leader of the empire of lupus all by yourself, yes your chest was now covered with golden medals and bows, but you also hadn’t been strong enough to save your brother, the most important person in your life. and now, as his death dated back to the beginning of the war, you couldn’t help but ponder if this hadn’t been staged.

you weren’t being delusional nor naively hopeful : all the techniques you learnt as a soldier came from wonwoo. he used to be a major general, if you had survived, he should have done the same. but he died in a blaze provoked by an explosion while protecting civilians. if you didn’t doubt his altruism nor his abilities, you doubt that he would have been careless enough to be trapped by the flames. but you didn’t have any evidence of your theory nor any support to rely on. 

and, as you finally reached his former shared apartment, you started to remember how lonely you were. 

hypnotised by the smoke from your hot chocolate, you looked away awkwardly, trying to find an interesting topic of conversation, in vain. before you, mingyu cleared his throat, stirring his coffee mindlessly. after giving a glance at the cardboard box between you, he murmured :

"i think you won’t need to come by, this was the last box with his things."

nodding slowly, you noticed a picture of your brother and you when you were younger. stretching your arm, you grabbed it and skimmed your brother’s face softly. 

"it feels like yesterday," you sighed.

"you were so young by then," mingyu added fondly.

the photography had been taken by your former instructor at the high court of the republic when wonwoo had been nominated major general. you remembered this day clearly : you went to the florist in order to buy him the prettiest bouquet ever and bragged about his promotion all day long to your colleagues. but how could you not? when he was the youngest major general of the republic? wonwoo had raised you since his tenth birthday and worked harder than anyone else. he became your role model the moment your parents left this side of the world and you knew this nomination was only the proof of all his resilience. he was twenty four and you were twenty one. today, you were twenty five but he was still twenty four. and today, you were the one being praised as the youngest marshal of the empire.

shaking your head to erase those memories from your mind, you locked your gaze into your brother’s former roommate and right hand-man before starting carefully :

"do you… do you remember anything he said before…"

"i know what you’re about to say and the answer is still the same, mingyu cut, visibly trying to keep his composure, wonwoo didn’t say anything."

"but-"

"there is no but y/n, the young man insisted, wonwoo’s death was an accident. he was a soldier y/n, a fucking soldier. you need to understand that and stop clinging desperately to his death. you won’t find anything."

clenching your fists, you retorted coldly :

"he wasn’t an ordinary soldier, he was a major general! he was better than any of us, a simple fire wouldn’t have been enough. i can’t believe that and i can’t believe you accept it so easily!"  

"i’m accepting it because it’s the truth!"

"this- this can’t be the truth, i refuse to believe it."

standing up abruptly, you gathered your belongings and grabbed the box vehemently, mingyu on your heels. 

"y/n listen," mingyu started, trying to reach your wrist.

getting your wrist out of his grip, you asked him with a dirty look :

"listen to what? i’ve heard enough and i don’t think we have anything to say to each other anymore."

"but wonwoo said-"

"wonwoo asked you to take care of me i know, you cut sharply, but i am the marshal here, i don’t need your help to prove that his death is everything but normal."

storming out without a single glance behind, you left, the picture held close to your heart.

swiping a tear away, you murmured softly :

"hi wonwoo, how are you today?"

placing a crown of flowers on the stone, you started to remove diligently the old one and change the water of the vase.

"i finally got all your belongings back. i even found the picture from your nomination which was allegedly lost, you little rascal."

sitting down, your back against his grave, you played with your pendant -a simple medallion minted with a sun, wonwoo’s gift when you entered into the republican military school- instinctively before grabbing a case from your bag, the one about your brother’s death.

cause yes, if the name jeon y/n resonated as the one of a hero in the whole empire, it also resonated with the one of the girl who couldn’t accept her brother’s death, the major general jeon wonwoo. out of pity, when the procedure had been closed despite all your testimonies and pleads for advanced examinations, your colleagues in charge of his case had given you his folder, hoping it’d help you to get over it. 

but you didn’t. instead, you looked at the different records and papers daily, looking for something, anything, that would prove that your reticence wasn’t irrational. but, after a whole year of incomplete and fruitless researches, you had to admit you were as lost as day one. 

when you opened your eyes, you felt a pain near the back of the neck. studying little by little each of your senses, you finally noticed that you were still in the graveyard and had fallen asleep against wonwoo’s stone. slowly massaging your neck, you saw around you the different elements of the case. letting your eyes linger on each pictures seen and seen again to make sure none of them flew with the wind, your blood froze when one of them went past your field of vision. it was wonwoo’s lungs. the shot wasn’t clear but you were absolutely sure : there wasn’t any soot. yet, you had read it in a book Costagliola R, Telmon N, Duguet AM, Rougé D. Ann Burns Fire Disasters. the absence of soot means that the person didn’t breath the gas generated by the flames and the forensic expert has to conclude that the person wasn’t alone when their body had been burnt to ashes. but if there wasn’t soot in wonwoo’s lungs… it necessarily meant that he didn’t inhale the smoke. and, if he didn’t inhale the smoke from the fire, the only reason that could explain this was that wonwoo was dead before he could even inhale them. but it wasn’t possible, right? he had been devoured but the flames and struggled. he had necessarily breathed the smoke. there should be soot, even a infinitesimal quantity, unless… unless the report about his death was wrong. unless the persons in charge of the dossier lied. unless the persons behind his death changed it.

the following week, you presented yourself at the imperial palace. today was the last day of the month and, like each and every month, a meeting was held, gathering the emperor and the heads of the five districts of the empire. to you, this kind of conference was a hassle but you couldn’t deny that the population liked it, seeing it as a way to feel close to the army and to gossip about the famous figures of the government, making them forget in the same time about the astronomical amount of money spent on a single day. plus, it came along at just the right time to help you in your progress. even if you had managed to prove that wonwoo’s death wasn’t an accident, it was far from being enough. you had to find culprits and make them suffer.

arriving near the golden gate, the immense railings were already wide opened for you. sometimes, popularity wasn’t all that bad. you didn’t even have to introduce yourself that two guards were already welcoming you, in order to accompany you to the hall where the meeting was held. 

sat in the middle of the marble table, your gaze embraced the little assembly composed of the five leaders of the districts. thus, by your left side was positioned kwon soonyoung from atalanta’s district, a marshal well known for his overwhelming strength. next to him was sat hong jisoo odysseus’ districts, a sly major general with angelic features. by your right side and already bickering with soonyoung was seated boo seungkwan from otrera’s district, a major general who wore his heart on his sleeves. and finally, sitting down at the other side of the table was chwe hansol from perseus’ district, the most phlegmatic general you ever met. 

after ten minutes, the emperor finally appeared : choi seungcheol, the son of the former emperor who had taken the power when the republic fell because of the war. his father had been assassinated and seungcheol had replaced him, receiving in the same time all the golden laurels of victory. the young man greeted the five of you before sitting down right in front of you. ultimately, his closest advisor, lee jihoon, arrived in the hall and seungcheol invited him to open the session. the advisor executed himself, the most unreadable expression on his features. 

everything went under jihoon’s expert gaze, from the crime levels to the economy of each district as well as the popularity level. if you didn’t see this usefulness of such a huge gathering when you could simply send a written report to jihoon, you liked to analyse his point of view and the criticisms he gave were admirable : short, effective and objective. you always wondered why the young man never enrolled in the army because of his skills and knowledges. wonwoo used to be his friend during high school before they went on their way, one alongside the future emperor, the other in the army. but, despite jihoon’s precious work, this meeting was, admittedly, a waste of time but it also gave you a huge opportunity to find clues linked to wonwoo’s murder. indeed, old informations and archives were all stored in the imperial archives. hence, if your enemies weren’t high ranked soldiers, they wouldn’t have been able to reach this room to falsify their names. you felt that, after a whole year during which people looked at you with nothing but pity when you talked about your brother, you finally got closer to the truth, therefore, you couldn’t help but shake your leg under the table, excitement and pressure fighting inside you.

at the end of the meeting, orpheus’ district ranked first for the fifth consecutive time and, as usual, you received praises from your colleagues which you swept away with a swing of the hand.

"i’m only doing my job," you assured. 

usually, this announce would bring you pride and a little bit of vanity, especially when you knew how exceptional your colleagues were. but right now, despite your competitive nature, your mind was far from caring about some race between districts. instead, you were already planning on running to the next step of your investigation. 

when midday rang, everyone started to stand up in order to join the big banquet usually held for the day. speeding yourself, you caught the emperor up and excused yourself :

"i’m sorry my emperor but i’m awaited at my district, i won’t be able to attempt the meal although i am truly grateful for this event."

"it’s okay, marshal jeon, the young man assured, thank you for your presence and your amazing results, up to your reputation as always."

after a final bow, you left the huge reception not without noticing the weird look jihoon addressed you and the strange feeling inside you. 

slowly walking to prevent any sound of your presence in the huge corridors, you finally reached the next step of your journey : the imperial archives. the impressive door of polished oak tree was crowned with the latin expression acta, non verba written in gold, the motto of the holy empire. you found it kinda funny to put such an adage at the entrance of a place like archives. shaking your head to erase those thoughts, you started to walk through the different aisles.

with a groan, you finally managed to reach the top of the shelf. the archives were stored a huge room and, despite the irreproachable tidying of the place, finding a five years old record was harder than what you predicted. hence, after finding the right aisle and the right shelving, you had discovered that, because he died in january, wonwoo’s file was on the twelfth level.

"why didn’t you die in december woo? or better, why didn’t you die at all?" you had mumbled before looking around for a ladder.

but now, as you heart started to beat faster, you knew you weren’t far from your goal. sitting down in a corner of the room, you opened the folder, a hand on your pendant, when your hopeful smile dropped : despite the death certificate and the witnesses’s testimonies, the file was empty. you were back to square one. sighing deeply, you reasoned yourself. if your brother’s register was empty, it only meant that his murderer was way more influential than what you anticipated and probably more powerful than your brother. 

while you were replacing the different boxes that helped you to reach his record, you heard an almost inaudible sound. your entire body froze on the spot and, after five long seconds, you walked toward the doors of the archives. suddenly, a shadow appeared in front of you. pulling your sword out swiftly, you got out of room.

"oh my god y/n don’t scare me like that!" the stranger screamed. 

lowering your blade, you found a frightened soonyoung and an unfazed hansol.

"oh, sorry soonyoung, i got scared," you joked sheepishly.

"it’s okay y/n, i kinda deserved it," the major general added.

"note to myself, never scaring you ever," hansol teased.

"what are you still doing here anyway? weren’t you supposed to go back to your brigade? did you have something to look at in the archives?" the older man asked, overwhelming you with questions.

"well, i was but… something came up, you quickly answered before retorting, but what about you? you should be enjoying the astronomical buffet, shouldn’t you?"

"we were, but jihoon asked us to go get him his planner."

preventing yourself from raising your eyebrows in surprise at hansol’s dubious explaining, you content yourself with a single nod, perfectly aware that the advisor would rather die than letting someone getting their hands on his planner. with a laugh, you cut the conversation short :

"great, then i’ll leave you there. see you next month!"

"yeah, see you and again, congrats for the first place," hansol complimented.

"yes, you really are the greatest! soonyoung cheered, not many people could pull off first place five times in a row, but nothing new from a jeon, right?"

and, after a giggle, you turned around and walked away, your smile fading away instantly.

walking toward your apartment, you looked up in order to recover your concentration. the moment you had left the imperial palace, you had felt a presence in your back. the moment your foot was on the pavement to the moment you were sat in the chair of your office, you had felt those two piercing eyes and now, as you were finally going home, you felt them again, lying in wait and ready to attack at the slightest opportunity. 

this little game carried on for a entire week, forcing you to change your opinion on your mysterious hunter. thus, what you mistook as miscalculation was actually made on purpose. you also had to admire the abilities of the person who was following you. they certainly weren’t an amateur, being able to chase you without any interruption for so long. you easily guessed that they intentionally made their presence known, as if they wanted you to feel like a trapped animal. but they underestimated you. if they wanted a mistake, it wouldn’t come from you. you were a marshal and started like every soldier enrolled into the former republic military school. you were used to track someone and were even more used to being tracked. if you wanted this hunt to end, it’d be with a confrontation. 

hence, after checking with a quick glance that the street was empty, you stopped in your tracks. 

"don’t you think this little game lasted long enough? come show me your face now, unless you’re too much of a coward," you whispered with a mocking tone.

you were about to think that your mocking wasn’t enough until you felt the switch in the air. the moment the blade struck, you drew your sabre to block the attack, a smirk on your lips. teasing was such an easy way. 

"do you actually realise that attacking me isn’t a classic infraction?" you asked with disdain.

following the weapon with the eyes, you responded with an offensive and managed to disarm your opponent. pushing them against the wall, you hit them in the stomach.

"tell me who you are now," you ordered, your blade against his throat.

that’s when your assailant’s hood fell from their head. your heart missed a beat when his delicate features appeared, his beautiful brown hair slightly messy. and when your eyes met, you instantly knew who it was : yoon jeonghan, the greatest assassin of the entire empire. your enemy must be really powerful to be able to afford his services.

"i am your worst nightmare," the young man introduced himself with a seductive smile.

"you are an absolute pain in the ass," you deadpanned.

this wasn’t what you expected but might be your lucky day after all : if this man was at your heels, it meant you weren’t far from the responsible persons behind wonwoo’s death. plus, being able to catch this assassin would be an amazing help for the entire empire.

"it kills me to tell you this but, as a citizen of the montefeltro empire, you are holder of the right to remain silent and have access to a lawyer. you’ll be heard by a fair trial for your act-"

"-ions and will be able to receive an adjudication from an impartial judge," jeonghan completed.

"it seems you knew your fall was near," you teased, arching an eyebrow.

"maybe, but before you’re doing anything, i’d advice you to listen to me."

"and why would i listen to the most searched assassin of the empire?"

"because i am seeking revenge, just like you. i want this whole ridiculous system to collapse and i want to attend it in the front row."

"again, why would i listen to you? you’re not a trustworthy person," you observed.

"because you have nobody else to talk to and because everyone here can have a blade behind their back," jeonghan replied with a smirk.

"so? you mumbled, what makes you think you’re any different from them?" 

"because my blade is right in front of you, sweetheart, and i swear i won’t use it on you. plus, i can provide you inestimable help," the young man retorted.

bitting your lips, your slight hesitation was enough for him to grab you tightly by the shoulders and switch your positions. your back hit the wall because of the abruptness of his movements but his hands wrapped themselves around your neck, preventing your head to do the same. widening your eyes, you couldn’t even curse you for losing your focus that you already felt his grip dropping.

"don’t you want to know who you’re truly working for, marshal jeon?" jeonghan asked.

giving him a death stare, you let go of your sabre and sighed. realistically, he wasn’t wrong. he was untrustworthy, just like everyone else in the empire for the moment. you didn’t have a single track or clue and didn’t know who was your ally or your enemy. he might represent everything you work against but he was also your best option for the time being.

"i work with you. but i’m warning you : if you ever betray me, your head will be rolling on the floor."

"you make it sounds so romantic," the brown hair man teased with a smirk.

and, as his silhouette started to fade into the darkness of the night, you didn’t know if you just started to dig your own grave.

the following day at your brigade felt like a whole nightmare. everyone became a potential enemy and you started to make a list of the persons you suspected before starting to be racked by guilt. they were your colleagues, your subordinates and, for some of them, old classmates. contemplating them as targets didn’t feel right. but, as jeonghan’s words resonated inside your head, you couldn’t even refute him. everyone can carry a blade behind their back because, as far as you went, you never trusted anyone else than your brother and your instincts, remorse shouldn’t change that. and now that he wasn’t here anymore, you could only count on your guts and a dubious assassin. 

twisting your pendant pensively, you didn’t even flinch when a shadow entered into your office. giving a death stare to the young assassin slouched into your sofa, you groaned :

"would you at least remove your dirty shoes from my sofa? velvet is a living hell to clean."

"i didn’t picture you as the inflexible type," jeonghan retorted with an arched eyebrow.

grabbing a blade on your desk, you sent it toward his face. without much effort, the young man caught it midair and you repeated :

"i said, remove your shoes from my sofa."

"no wonder you’re still single," he replied with an exaggerated roll of the eyes.

when the young man finally executed himself, you observed :

"i hope you’re not here to debate about my relationship status because i actually have a lot of work and not a lot of spare time to grant you so make it quick."

"i prefer when it lasts at least three rounds but i can make an exception for you, doll."

the moment you raised your second dagger, jeonghan chuckled, his hands up in the air as if he was surrounding :

"okay okay i get it, no more jokes about what’s going on under the blanket."

straightening his posture, the atmosphere of the room dropped when he locked his gaze in yours.

"i hope you know we’re inevitably going to kick over the traces, marshal, he started, our adversaries aren’t just some high ranked members of the armed forces but the government as a whole."

"what do you mean?" you asked, slowly swallowing. 

sure you knew you were going after the big fishes after your investigation in the imperial archives, but you didn’t except that the entire government would have been involved. 

"the great war of decline was a mere pretext for seungcheol’s father and his partisans to organise a coup d’état and overthrow the republic."

your eyes widened at his words. no… this couldn’t be true?

"you… you’re saying that they started the war just to hide their coup and cover it up as a legal take-over? they sacrificed thousands of lives for some power?" you guessed, unable to hide your anger.

"power is an inestimable thing, marshal, jeonghan retorted, even ordinary people would kill their neighbours for some more influence."

bitting your lips before moistening them, you sighed, resigned :

"okay, so be it, our whole empire is built on lies and corpses, but in what way is it linked to wonwoo?"

"i think wonwoo was involved in this total venture."

"what did you say?" you asked, tightening the grip on your guard.

the next second, the both of you were above your desk, you sabre at the base of his jaw and his dagger pointing at your heart. glaring at him, you carried on :

"are you implying that my brother is linked to the coup d’état which is responsible of the fall of an entire outsider country and the deaths of thousands of innocents? i advice you to be careful with your words, yoon."

"i’m not foolish enough to bring the wrath of the youngest marshal of the empire," the young man whispered sweetly.

acting as one, you both dropped your weapons but you insisted :

"wonwoo would never have been alongside the silent partner of this plot. my brother was a honest man inherently good. i’m sure there is another reason to explain his death." 

"maybe, but you can’t put aside the fact that he was somehow involved, even the hypothetical idea of him being a spy for another organisation is worth considering."

when your gaze darken, he hastily added grumpily :

"i’m talking to you as a fair and impartial judge, marshal, not to the little sister who idolises her brother."

"please, don’t tell me you’re jealous of my admiration for my brother," you scoffed.

"and what if i was?" jeonghan answered back.

"then i’d definitely tell you that it shouldn’t affect you this much. i’m a marshal, remember? your entire existence is what i working against."

you thought that he’d come back with another witty barb but couldn’t help but raised your eyebrows in surprise when his smirk flattened.

"you sure have a smart mouth, marshal," were his last words before he flew outside the window, as furtively as when he came in. 

you didn’t even get the time to say a word that, at the same moment, a knock on your door rang out.  

for the second time in a row, you waited eagerly for the next meeting at the imperial palace. now that you knew you had to deal with hugest problems than what you originally envisaged. you had hoped this matter would have stay within the corps of the imperial armed forces. this place was an absolute playground for you. since soonyoung and you were the only marshals of the empire, the fact that you were one of the two holder of the highest-ranking title in the military hierarchy made you practically untouchable. you wouldn’t have had any issue finding the responsible of wonwoo’s death and would have executed them on the spot. but if this mess also involved state officers, this would be way harder. 

thus, when your district ranked first for the sixth time consecutively, you received praises and compliments with a bright smile and, when people called you marshal jeon, it felt like they were applauding both your brother and you. you wanted to laugh hysterically at their hypocrisy and execute them all but you knew better than to act hastily. you couldn’t kill anyone yet as long as their guilt hadn’t been exposed. 

when the little assembly left for the traditional banquet, you sped up to catch on jihoon. he was your first suspect after seungcheol and you needed to get closer to him. you managed to be seated next to him during the whole meal. despite his cold features and stern gaze, jihoon and you used to get along well. as the most efficient soldier, jihoon had recognised your worth a long time ago and your conversations had gone past niceties. he had even invited you numerous times at chess game parties you all had rejected in the past. but now, things had changed. hence your eager response when the young advisor suggested a chess game after lunch. 

"i’d be more than grateful to share a game with you, advisor lee," you had answered.

"oh please, y/n, you can call me jihoon after all this time," the young man had assured.

"we both know each other since ages and you always refuse me calling you jihoon," soonyoung, who had been eavesdropped, had groaned.

"that is because you’re infuriating and noisy," jihoon had deadpanned before inviting you to follow him in his office.

sat face to face, you couldn’t ignore the tension in the room when you asked, as you moved the first piece :

"do you remember much about wonwoo?"

you instantly guessed than jihoon knew that your unusual consent for a chess game was led by some other kinds of motivations than the pleasure of competition and that your question was far from the one he had expected. he finally answered after moving his pawn :

"wonwoo was an exceptional soldier and a great friend during high school time. we were more similar than i thought at first and, as time passed by, i became comfortable in his presence. we only parted ways because we had different ambitions."

"wonwoo was really secretive so i’ve never heard a lot about his time in high school, you confessed, he only accepted to tell me anecdotes from the republican military school because i wanted to go there too."

"that’s funny how you both decided to take the same path. and to be as remarkable as the other," the young man praised.

"like brother like sister, i guess. i’ve always walked not so far away from wonwoo’s footsteps."

your remark hit the nail on the head and jihoon raised his cold gaze to meet your eyes.

"are you implying something else, y/n?"

"why? do you feel threatened?" you responded with a sweet smile.

"if i were you, i’d be more careful about my surroundings and start being concerned about the things i should and shouldn’t follow."

a heavy silence followed his words and, after moving your queen, you chuckled :

"i don’t know what you’re talking about, jihoon, i was only referring to chess. wonwoo used to win so many tournaments, just like i did. and now, i made a checkmate."

colours left jihoon’s already pale face and the young man giggled shakily :

"i think i got carried away, sorry y/n. this was a very interesting game, come back again when you have some time to kill, okay?"

"oh it’d be an incommensurable pleasure, you assured, but before that, i need to eliminate a bigger problem."

and just like that, you left the room, your queen and bishop surrounding jihoon’s king. 

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" 

this were the first words jeonghan addressed after three weeks without seeing each other. sometimes, you felt his gaze on your back but, as time went on, you got used to his presence, making your life less lonely. but the moments his eyes weren’t on you anymore, you had the bitter reminder that jeonghan was an assassin who had to kill for a living and that your feeling of company was just an illusion. he was -for lack of better words- your partner, nothing more, nothing less.

but right now, as your back was pressed against the wall of the dirtiest alley and jeonghan’s blade on your jaw, the overall climate wasn’t right for sentimentality. flames were burning in his piercing gaze but, despite his anger, you noticed he still placed his hands behind the back of your neck to prevent your head from hitting the wall. 

locking your gaze in his, you answered :

"i’m threatening this whole system, isn’t it what you wanted?"

"i asked for revenge, he corrected, not for you to be killed like wonwoo and m-"

"i won’t get killed, you cut, if you want things to move, you need to take actions. words won’t change a single thing."

"i know but it doesn’t mean you have to be reckless, we have plenty of time."

"probably but it’s by catching them off guard that we’ll win," you argued.

"maybe, but theoretically i’m still contractually linked to them. i don’t want them to understand that i’m involved with your little schemes."

"if you’re unhappy with my methods, you’re free to go find another marshal thirsty for revenge and the truth," you mocked, opening your arms. 

"you really are the must stubborn marshal i’ve ever met," jeonghan chuckled while brushing his hair with his hand.

lowering his gaze on your lips, you breathed shakily. you hated this silly reaction and, after striking his chest with your fist to hide the blush on your cheeks, you replied with a pout :

"i thought you knew where you were getting yourself into."

"yet, i still didn’t get to be into you."

"and for the record, i actually don’t give a damn about my safety, which shouldn’t be your personal concern," you added, struggling to ignore his remark.

"it shouldn’t but, despite everything, it is. so please, be careful."

the seriousness and the controlled anger in his tone surprised you but, you didn’t even get the time to tease him about it that he was already walking away.

"but go on, do whatever your pretty face wants. i know i won’t manage to convince you and i never fight for anyone else anyway."

rolling your eyes at the pet name, you decided to walk toward wonwoo’s apartment. 

who knows? maybe you’d be able to find more evidences. if wonwoo managed to guess that the war had been planned in order to hide a coup d’état, he might have left some evidences or clues to help you. with a sigh, you frowned at the idea that your brother was fighting on his own and didn’t tell you a single word about it. and you felt even more miserable for having been unaware of his private investigations. what you told jihoon was the truth, your brother was an evasive person. he didn’t tell you much, always going by the motto that actions speak louder than words but still, you wished he let you into the secret. and now, you were in the dark.

apparently, you were in the dark and rather rusty because, you didn’t noticed the presences behind your back until you reached wonwoo’s old apartment. waiting for mingyu to open the door, you drew your sabre when the familiar clicking of the blade echoed before striking. 

"you’re more careless than i thought, soonyoung."

in front of you were standing soonyoung, a wide grin across the face, and jihoon, his face as unreadable as ever. your blades banged into one another and you asked with a derisive tone :

"to what do i owe the honour?"

"it seems like our promising little marshal is peering her nose into something that is far from her business," the other marshal teased back.

"a matter that is way too crucial for her understanding," jihoon added with a somber look.

"sure, the death of thousands and the establishment of an illegitimate empire is indeed very crucial," you mocked.

in the same time, the door behind you opened. after a quick glance, you ordered to mingyu :

"mingyu stay inside! you aren’t safe here."

"why do you say that?"

your blood pressure dropped when he continued, his voice dramatically changed from concern to satisfaction :

"they are my friends, i have no reason to be scared. you on the other hand…"

you only got the time to turn around when you receive a brutal blow on the temple and darkness took over.

when you opened your eyes, you felt the same pain in the back of your neck you had felt a month ago at wonwoo’s grave. your head was pounding like crazy and your arms and feet were tied up to a tree. you could feel the ground underneath you and, after noticing the humid air and on your pants, you guessed they brought you far away into the woods. 

"well well well, it seems the pretty doll is finally awake," a voice cooed on your left.

slowly opening your eyes, you mumbled :

"you could at least have the decency to put a pillow under my butt, those uniforms are a living hell to clean."

"you wanna outsmart us now, you insufferable little brat?" mingyu giggled, the full height of his height crushing you. 

"what about you? you are a fucking traitor! wonwoo trusted you and you betrayed him for some power? you asked disdainfully, please, i don’t want to outsmart you, there isn’t any competition."

mingyu scoffed at your words and started to deride your brother :

"wonwoo was an idiot. brilliant, kind, strong but an idiot. he really fooled us until the end but then…"

putting a hand on his face, he scoffed haughtily and a wide grin appeared on his face when he kept going :

"i didn’t betray him, he shot himself in the foot. your brother was clever but so stupid, typical behaviour from a hero. the day he was about to ruin everything, i found him in his room. he never ever questioned my allegiance to some idealistic values and had the intention to leave me a letter, a letter." 

coming closer, he grabbed your chin between his fingers and mocked :

"he was telling me that he understood that the empire was responsible for the war and did it to hide their coup. he knew he was going to die and asked me to keep you safe, do you believe that? when i would be the one to execute him."

a raging scream escaped your lips and you tried to free yourself from the shackles, soonyoung’s laugh ringing in your ears. 

"you’re a pathetic piece of garbage, you shoot, how could you possibly betray and kill your friend? you deserve to root in hell, you fucking coward!"

instantly, you received a blow in your right cheek and another in the belly. aversion twisted your stomach when you felt his hand gentle stroking your head.

"you know, i don’t take a great deal of pleasure in this, mingyu scolded you, you were like a little sister to me, i really wanted to protect you. but you had to believe in your brother’s abilities and stick your nose into someone else’s business."

his warm smile dropped immediately to show the cruelest expression you ever saw on mingyu’s face. an expression you never thought you’d ever see at all.

"you really do look like your brother. wonwoo had the same face when i killed him."

when mingyu got up in order to grab you didn’t even know what, you started to look around desperately. panic started to spread all over your body when you realised that you couldn’t see anything but mist and trees as far as your eyes could see. when the sound of the blade against the sheath, you knew this was the end. 

you wouldn’t be able to escape. you wouldn’t be able to show the truth to the world. you wouldn’t be able to get revenge for wonwoo and bring the truth on his death. when mingyu lifted his blade, your last thought was about jeonghan and his insufferable grin. he’ll probably make fun of your recklessness when the news of your death will come out. closing your eyes, you scoffed internally, unable to believe that he was the last person in your mind before dying. 

but the pain never came. instead, a croaky scream escaped mingyu’s lips. opening your eyes, you discovered with terror a blade stabbing his heart. a single drop of blood fell on your face and, the next moment, your arms were free. 

"j- jeonghan?" you murmured incredulously.

"you can kiss me when we’ll get out of here, sweetheart, but now i need you to help me kill those two bastards," the young man answered, trowing a sword toward you.

catching it midair, you ran toward soonyoung. you were still disoriented by how things turned out but this wasn’t the time for questions. thankfully, you hadn’t been the first one to be confused by jeonghan’s arrival. soonyoung stopped your blade in extremis with the sheath of his sword before pushing you away with his foot.

"i’ve always wanted to face up the youngest marshal of the empire," the young man laughed.

"then this is your lucky day : you will face her and die from her hand."

launching yourself straight toward him, the sounds of the blades knocking together resonated in the woods. taking a deep breath, you swept away the sweat on your forehead and fought back again. soonyoung’s endurance was the no match against the five leaders of the districts but your technique was beyond his. all the times he managed to dodge your attacks occurred thanks to his strength core and his agility. but he’ll get tired quicker than you.

from the back of your head, you could hear jeonghan and jihoon’s confrontation and you had to force yourself to prevent yourself from looking at him. jeonghan was an amazing fighter but the young advisor wasn’t outdone.

finally, you managed to make soonyoung fall. sending his sword far away, you straddled his torso and blocked his arms. 

"you fucking bitch," the young man groaned while struggling.

striking the pommel of your sword to knock him down, you growled :

"this one is for my abduction."

and finally, as you hammered your sword in his heart, you added :

"and this one is for wonwoo."

still on soonyoung’s corpse, you couldn’t lift any finger. your state surprised you as much as it upset you. you had gone on the battlefield, you had killed thousands of soldiers and almost got abducted once but hadn’t been as miserable as now. a reassuring hand stroked your hair softly and jeonghan whispered :

"it’s finally over."

raising your head, your gaze was still lost when you asked :

"why did you save me? i thought you never fought for anyone else."

"’cause i don’t. but you’re not anyone else, you’re the other half of me."

a tear started to roll on your cheek at his words. and another. tears were rolling down like a river while jeonghan’s fingers rushed themselves to heal your bruises and cuts. 

"after i drop you at your apartment, i’ll kill this asshole of an emperor myself," jeonghan mumbled lugubriously.

"don’t."

a silence followed your word, jeonghan’s tense hand still up in the air. 

"why wouldn’t i? he asked, slightly on edge, i know he is extremely powerful but he has to pay for what he did to you, to your brother, to his country, to all the innocents."

"i know. but we have trials and institutions for that," you argued.

"corrupted trials, you mean," jeonghan corrected heatedly. 

"not all trials! you feuded, listen, if we act hastily another organisation could easily overpower us and we’d go back to step one."

"weren’t you the one who wanted to catch them off guard?"

"yes, but things changed!"

"i don’t see how they are any different from few hours ago."

"they changed because three men died because of this mess. and if i am the one who was begging to act faster, weren’t you the one who scolded me for my so called recklessness?"

"this is none of your business!"

"as long as we are partners, this is completely my business! why are you so eager to kill seungcheol?"

"because- because i need to get revenge for my friend. and this can’t be done unless i kill this asshole myself."

jeonghan’s breath became less steady and he confessed :

"i used to have a friend, minghao, who also died during the war. we grew up in the streets after the collapse of our orphanage. the fucking republic never did anything good to us so, when the government asked for all the eligible men to join the army, i refused but he didn’t. he joined the armed forces because he believed in freedom. because he believed in the safety of civilians’ lives. because he believed our younger-selves would have wished for this kind of help. and he got killed." 

"i- i am really sorry to hear that," you whispered sheepishly.

"when i got the order to kill you, i followed you a whole week to know your habits but you reminded me of him : he was honest, true to himself and an insufferable little shit that i’ve never been able to manipulate. just like you." 

"so you refused to kill me out in remembrance of good old days?" you asked with an arched eyebrow.

"no, i refused to kill you because i love you." 

and, the next second, his lips were on you. the kiss had a weird taste, a mixture of tears, dust and you-didn’t-know/want-to-know’s blood. yet, the kiss also held hope and warm and, for the first time since wonwoo’s death, your feeling of loneliness finally vanished. 

when your office’s door opened, you froze before laughing :

"i’m sorry but i still can’t get used to see you in the military uniform."

in front of you was standing jeonghan, dressed in the uniform from the republican military school, ready to walk you home.

"i had to, since you told me you have a soft spot for men in uniform," the young man sighed, unable to hide his smirk.

standing up, you wrapped your arms around jeonghan’s shoulder while his hands found their place on your hips. and, as his lips softly pressed themselves against yours, you felt a weird feeling of nostalgia spreading inside you.

you remembered the day you had finally managed to gather enough evidence to prove the empire’s implication in the war after searching for hours in jihoon, soonyoung and mingyu’s offices.

you remembered the day you had finally testified at seungcheol’s hearing to bring justice to wonwoo’s death.

you remembered the day you had finally announced to your brother that you had put an end to his suffering and that he could finally rest in peace.

you remembered the day you had sworn to jeonghan that you’ll wait for him after his sentencing by the criminal court.

you remembered the day you had embraced him when he had finally ended his sentence two years later.

you remembered the day you had refused the suggestion of the high court of justice to become the new ruler of the country.

you remembered the day you had become the head of the republican armed forces.

but most importantly, you remembered the day jeonghan had announced that he’ll join the armed forces. "this way, i’ll be able to work legally with you. and i think it’d make ’hao happy."

when you finally gathered all your belongings, jeonghan solemnly moved aside and, with a swing of the arm, invited you :

"after you, marshal jeon."

rolling your eyes, you moaned :

"don’t call me like this."

"okay okay, sorry. after you, sweetheart."

and, with a final kiss on your temple, you both left to your home.

a/n pt 2 : if you managed to go throughout this fic until here, thank you so so much. please tell me your opinion, it’d mean a lot to me!

taglist : @junhour @lixiel0ver @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @islandheaven @belladaises

@/som1ig 2023 | all rights reserved | do not plagiarise

Hold me tight

Summary: azriel is awoken by a nightmare in the middle of the night and reader helps him down from it.

Warnings: none

————————————————————————

In the middle of the night, you lay flat on your back and stared at the ceiling. You and Azriel had gotten into bed at ten at night; currently, it was one in the morning. Sleep eluded you, leaving you listening to Azriel’s quiet snores as background noise while your thoughts varying from training to clothes to the chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen cabinet blared front and centre. Finally, unable to take this anymore, you carefully removed the arm draped around your waist, peeled the covers back, and headed to the living room. 

The fire in the hearth had long burned out, leaving embers glowing in the ashes, giving the room an orange glow. You grabbed a big, cosy blanket, a cup of tea, and a book and settled on the comfy leather sofa. The next bit was spent reading, the house around you completely silent save for the sounds of your breathing and page-turning. The character in your book had nearly drowned, coming to the surface and taking deep, gasping breaths. 

Wait, you could hear that. Your eyes widened and you abandoned your book on the sofa, running into your bedroom to find Azriel sitting upright.

Shadows swirled frantically around the room as if mirroring the turmoil of Azriel’s mind. They cleared a path for you to get to their master and contain the mess of his mind. Through the moonlight filtering in through the mirror, you spotted Azriel sitting upright in bed. His wings were pulled taut behind his back, the moonlight illuminating his sweat-slicked skin. If it weren’t an emergency, you would have taken your time engraining this picture in your mind. 

Azriel’s gasping, laboured breaths met your ears as your eyes landed on his heaving chest, his quivering arms braced beside him for support, the sheets bunched into his fists, the furrow of his brows, and the pain etched into his features. You set beside him on your knees and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder to prevent startling him.

“Az?” you whispered, so quiet you barely heard it. 

Azriel’s face turned to you then, the pain, the scars turned to open wounds, the horror, all right there on his face. Your heart broke. He simply looked at you for a moment, like he was trying to make sure it was you he was seeing, then reached out a hand to rest on your cheek. You leaned into his hand, rubbing his shoulder in reassurance. 

“I’m here,” you said. 

“You’re here,” Azriel repeated as if in a trance. “You’re real,” he said before breaking down completely. 

Without wasting a second you wrapped your arms around him, cradling the back of his head while it rested in the crook of your neck. He sobbed loudly and with each cry that escaped him, your heart broke a little more. Your tears broke free until you were crying with him, going through all that pain with him. Yet he was your priority so you reigned your tears in and stroked his wing comfortingly. 

“It’s okay,” you said reassuringly. “I’m right here, baby,” and kissed his head, then his shoulder. 

You held him tightly to your body, slightly rocking him back and forth while alternating movements between stroking his wing, running your fingers through his hair, and rubbing his back, till he wasn’t sobbing anymore. Once Azriel was calmed down enough, you pulled back, hands braced on his shoulders and looked into his watery eyes. 

“Baby,” you rested a hand on his cheek. “What happened?” you asked. 

Azriel shook his head. “I-it was the cellar all over again,” he said with a quivering voice. “But it was you this time, Y/n, your hands on fire,” he spoke with horror in his face as if he saw the whole scene replay in front of his eyes.

Your eyes widened slightly, brows rising as Azriel spoke.

“Th-he was laughing and I tried- I tried saving you but I couldn’t move, Y/n. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you,” Azriel cried.

You shook your head, reaching for him.

“I’m okay, Azzy. It wasn’t real,” you reminded him while rubbing his back. “Everything is okay, my love.”

You leaned forward to kiss his forehead. Azriel closed his in comfort at the feeling of your lips on his skin. You stayed there for a second, stroking his cheeks with both your hands, then pulled back. 

He cleared his throat, looking around and getting reacquainted with his surroundings. “Where were you?” he asked, sniffling. 

“Living room,” you answered. “Couldn’t sleep.” You took a moment to look at his face, the still shaken look in his eyes, his tear-stained cheeks, and the sweat that made his hair stick to his forehead. You gently brushed the hair back before bringing your hand back to rest on his shoulder. 

“Can I get you anything?” You asked. “Some tea maybe?” Chamomile always calmed Azriel down after a nightmare when he’d refuse to sleep in fear of it coming back. 

Azriel nodded slightly but as you moved to get up, he wound his arm around your waist, halting your movement. 

“Just- in a couple of minutes?” He requested, vulnerable eyes meeting yours. 

You smiled. “Of course,” and settled in beside him, pulling his head to your chest and whispering words of reassurance in his ear. 

A few minutes turned into 30 with you holding Azriel and before you knew it, you heard Azriel’s gentle snores again. You smiled to yourself, kissed his crown, and laid back with his head still on your chest. Sleep found you soon after. 

pairing: jungkook x (gender neutral) reader / word count: 20k / genre: fluff (author!reader, florist!jungkook)

summary: “You’re in love and you didn’t tell me?” Jimin sounds affronted. “Who is it? Are they cute? Where are you hiding them? I knew you were lying about those flowers, you lying liar.” or: the story of how you meet a pretty florist with soft hands and warm eyes, how he mends your broken heart, and how he helps you realise some other things along the way.

warnings: use of a few curse words, reader is self-deprecating and suffering from heartache towards the beginning (v mildly angsty ig? but dw it passes), but otherwise this is a Very Soft fic!

–

“It’s time to get up.”

“It absolutely is not.” Your voice is muffled under a layer of pillows and blankets, material pressing down on your body and head, covering you. A protective cocoon. “I’ve become one with my duvet and we shall never be parted.”

You yelp when the blanket is ruthlessly ripped from you. Your curtains have been thrown open and you can feel how the sun is streaming in through your windows, warming your skin, even if you can’t see it; there’s a particularly fluffy pillow smothering your face right now to keep the world outside at bay.

“This has to be against the Geneva convention,” you whine as your collection of pillows is similarly stripped from the bed, leaving you entirely bereft from their comfort and protection. You curl into a tight ball around your Pusheen cushion and try to protect her from Jimin’s grasping fingers— your final bastion of defence against him. “No! Not Pusheen! Please! Take me instead!”

Keep reading

Proving a point to my boyfriend.

PLEASE REBLOG if you (male or female) believe it is perfectly okay and natural for a guy of any age to cry