Hong Jisoo X Reader - Tumblr Posts
goldleaf
pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x gender neutral reader
genre: angst, hanahaki au
word count: 1.1k
warnings: no happy ending, mentions of death + implied main character death…eventually, One mention of swearing, unrequited love, the normal hanahaki au things (blood, throwing up, etc.)
author note: um so guess who found out she can actually write angst! it’s written in joshua’s pov the entire time and reader is just kinda in the background (they’re still important though!) also, if you want a lil more info about how i wrote this, check out my reblog! lots of love ♡
masterlist
when joshua sees you with them, he can’t deny that he feels…more than he wishes he did.
he’s sick and tired of the hollowness in his chest but it’s fine. it’ll all be fine once he sees you happy, right? that's what he says to convince himself before looking up at the sky and seeing you in the shape of the clouds and the way the sun hits them and himself.
fuck, he’s in too deep to continue to believe the sorry excuse he’s made up for himself to feel a little better. it never helps anyway, so why keep using it? he lets it go, imagining it fluttering away on a breeze that reminds him way too much of the person always on his mind.
so when the tingling in his throat comes out as petals the same golden like the colour he imagines your soul to be, he isn’t surprised. as he exits the bathroom, he avoids jeonghan’s gaze, promises that he’ll be fine; after all, it’s just a cold—whatever it takes to keep his best friend from worrying. at least he knows his promises won’t be worth much anyway.
he sees you often, your smile as cheery as the flowers haunting him in his dreams and the ones sticking to his lungs, trapped in his chest. he’s alright, he tells himself. he’ll be fine.
he doesn’t go to the doctor. he’s read and seen enough of what’s happening to him, and he knows the choice he’ll have to make if he goes. he knows that the only solution is to forget, but he would never do that. he can’t let go of wandering around in the wheat fields that one summer you two were in the countryside, or the time you laughed and laughed at a joke that wasn’t funny, or when he lost all hope and you were there, making sure he could get back up again and live. if the price of keeping the memories he holds close is death, he’s okay with it.
joshua doesn’t tell his roommates. he knows that jeonghan and seungcheol would drag him to the emergency room against his will, and force him to take the option he’s already decided against. he wouldn’t let them sway him anyway, but it’s easier if they don’t know. however, time seems to choose to leave the bathroom—even when it seems to be going too fast for joshua’s liking these days—when jeonghan finds him hovering over the sink, bloody tissues in his hand and washed petals placed carefully on the side.
the two of them say nothing.
jeonghan leaves, and joshua turns to the mirror above the sink, taking a good look at himself. he wipes off the dried blood on his top lip, noticing nothing else wrong. he doesn’t realize that after he leaves, jeonghan is horrified by the lack of light in his friend’s eyes, the spark he thought would never go out.
jeonghan hasn’t said anything since, lost in his thoughts every time he’s home. seungcheol is freaked out, not understanding the dead silence in the house. he doesn’t know that he’ll have to pay more for rent in…well, however long it takes for joshua’s lungs to finally fill up with your flowers. joshua knows he’s being cruel, but can’t he be allowed to be selfish in his last moments? is that too much to ask for after everything?
he doesn’t approach jeonghan, and instead writes. he writes journal entries in that notebook you got him a few years back, but he never used it because he was too scared to mess up in something you gave him; letters to those he’ll miss. he revises the one for his mother over and over again, crumpling paper like his lungs.
joshua doesn’t try to hide anything from seungcheol. he knows that his housemate’s blank expression means more than what he says. in fact, there is nothing said; their house is a place to rest and eat and nothing else. it’s as if there’s three ghosts, not just a single potential one. joshua sighs, wheezing out more petals. he grabs them hastily, making sure they don’t fall to the ground or worse, onto your letter. he carries them gently in his bloodied hands to the bathroom sink once again, the only companion he seems to have in the past few weeks.
joshua rinses each souvenir of his love one by one, clearing the dark red off before drying them and taking them back to the pile he’s made ever since this started. at first, they were hidden away in a small box on the corner of his desk, so no one would wander in and see them. now, he puts them on his nightstand haphazardly, the dark wood no longer visible under the various shades of yellow and red.
joshua picks up his pen—the expensive one his mom gifted him when he moved away so long ago; he never used it until now. the ink glides smoothly over the clean paper he had taken out earlier. he writes once again.
the only thing he knows how to say now is sorry. he writes it over and over again, signing each letter with the sounds he can barely make in real life, his voice hoarse from the damage done on his throat, and the lack of use.
maybe it’s time for something different? after all, this is for you, and he wants the news to be broken softly. he racks his head for something, anything that he finds good enough to become something real. he drinks the day-old water from the plastic bottle beside him, the familiar taste of blood accompanying it.
he glances at the clock he’s kept beside him since the start, and counts down two seconds; he has no time to waste.
he puts down the words he’s said so often to you that they’ve become a habit but seem to have changed ever since he started throwing up marigolds—a literal reminder of his unrequited love.
it’ll be a bit hard to be there for you when he’s dead, won’t it? joshua doesn’t mind. he never will.
he chuckles dryly, a whole flower falling out. he gets up and repeats his process for the petals before sitting back down.
joshua looks at his handiwork, pausing and adding a few more words before moving his paper to the side, and starting on another letter for his mother.
he stares blearily at the clock again, the red blinking numbers the only comfort he allows himself. it’s a new day.
joshua hopes it’ll finally be his last.
Happy next Time
Warnings: angsty angst angst, character's death, miscarriage mention, grave, grave yard, ...flowers?, arguments, depression. ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ.
"I'm done, I'm tired of you. I'm tired of being pulled into this loop hole of you not knowing what you want and you wanting more. Why are you treating me like I've never been here for you, I've always been here for you. You don't support me. You treat me like dog shit, you might as well throw me out of your house, in a shit held bag. What did I ever do for you to treat me like this? I'm not frosty, but I sure as hell can be cold. Do you really not want me here? huh? Kayla talk."
It's always the arguments in the living room that kills me inside. Was he right? Was I basically neglecting him and being ungrateful? But, but how could I when he's the one who chooses to use his brake time to spend it with his friend. I know he works hard, we both work hard. I just want someone to hold me, I'm depressed, I don't want to be left alone with the thoughts that reminds me that I'm just choosing to live. I want to be held I want to be loved. Why is he mad at me? He asked me to stop talking, and I did. Now he's mad, but for what? Because I choose to respect his request and follow it. Fuck him. Fuck all of him.
"Fuck you, Joshua. Fuck you, 홍지수. I don't want you to leave. I never wanted you to leave, that's all you've done. 'Here' for me? Fuck outta here. You were here for me when YOU needed me, Joshua. Oh and really, fuck you. You neglect ME, Hong Ji-soo. Me. I'd always tell you what I want, what I like, how I feel and so fucking on. You always forget, you always forget about me. And I'd be damnd if I ever forgotten anything about you. Why?!?! Because I fucking love you. Do you not understand that? I ask you about your well being, I try to set up dates to do the things you like, I make sure I find time to clean OUR house so that you can lay comfortably. I only have one arm, but goddamn it I figure that shit out. Yes or no?"
"..You do."
"Then why, why do you feel like I'm not supporting you when you're not even here to be supported. You weren't here through our miscarriage. We lost our babies. And you didn't get a chance to know because simply, you didn't want to hear me. You didn't let me tell you. I'm still hurt. I just, I just want to leave. I don't know where, but somewhere that'll surround me with people who really love me, and care about my life. Oh and don't fucking cry now, you don't get a chance to do that. You don't deserve to feel bad now. Fuck you, I hate this person you've become. I can't do this anymore. I don't want to."
"That was the last time we spoke"
Joshua sat at his wife's grave, flowers grew above the grass that sat above the coffin that was held beneath. They were her favorite flowers, daisies. The name she wanted to give there daughter.
"I'm sorry, Love. You didn't deserve any of that. I'll make it up to you I promise. I promise."
Joshua held his daughter, Daisy on his lap, saying one more goodbye before he made his way to Kayla's mother's house.
"Hi, Mommy" the one year old spoke. Saying her first words, but quietly. Jishua didn't catch them, but he will catch the next surprise, 3 weeks later.
To be Continued
"Um no, it's your turn"
Part 2
"Damn, that was years ago"
"Mhm, and now you work with him, what a coincidence"
You sat on you living room floor talking to your bestfriend, going over your past; crushes, relationships, goals, dreams and what not. It has really been 4 years. Damn, and you're over him, but Honnie just can't help but keep bringing him up. You've moved on, not with anyone in particular, but by working and working with yourself. You're doing good and you're not looking for a relationship, you just want to make this next project sale.
" Y/n..."
"Honnie don't start-"
"I know, I know, but he've changed."
"Nope, no, no I'm not getting into anymore of his messes, we are just work partners. We'll just be that, I'm fine with that. Just stop pushing it. Please."
"Ok. I won't, but you can't keep being stuck on the past. We both know what happened wasn't the best-"
"It was fucked up."
"It was fucked up, but that was 3 years ago. I just want to see you happy and not worried about others all of the time. You don't have to be with him, but can you atleast think about a vacation, cause bae you're dragging yourself." Hongjoong spoke, putting up the Uno cards ya'll had played earlier. You made you way to your nicely decorated kitchen responding to your eager friend.
"I mean, that does sound good. But working is good too"
"My goodness, Y/n" Honnie put the multi colored card box down on your coffee table, and made his way to the kitchen grabbing one of the sodas you had in hand.
"Common be for real"
"Ok, ok, alright, but after this next project"
"YES!"
"You over here happy, but aren't you supposed to be meeting up with someone?"
Hong joong checked his phone.
"Shit, shit, shit I only got 15 min!" Hon made his way to the front door, grabbing his keys off the key hooks.
"Please, actually take a vacation"
"I will I promise"
"Ok, I love you"
"I love you too Honnie. Now leave before you're late." You giggled before waving goodbye.
Hong joong gave a small wave, before he hurriedly made his way out your front door, downing his soda.
"He's something else." You stretched your arms, just ready for bed.
"Goodnight Abyss." It's 8:30pm you said your goodnights to your home putting trash away and making your way to you room, getting ready for the next day.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Saturday
Oh the sun was taking its job a lil to serious. It was smiling and screaming for you to wake up. Their ray fingers brushing its way through your thin cream colored curtain tickling your skin with heat urging you to wake up.
"OKAY! Goddamn Sunny, I'm up." Those words only came after a few tosses and turns from your body. It's 10:00am haha, you never get up that late, which means. Universe says, "TREAT YOURSELF BITCH."
You rolled your way off of your high bed, a bit annoyed, but ready for this weekend.
You got washed up, you're glowing and you look good girl, now get dressed.
[Your top]
[Your bottoms]
[Your shoes]
[Your Hair]
Yes babes narrator put you on. Anywho your clothing reflects your occupation. What is it?
You're fully dressed and ready for the day. You cook in a lot, so today you decided it would be nice to eat out. Brunch babe? And Mimosa? Yes.
Over the years you've made a nice amount of close friends. A nice amount meaning just 2 more. Hongjoong we know, Mr.Drama kid but the other 2 are Moonbyul and Jimin goodness gRaCious, it's almost like you just attract crazy people.
Starting with Moonbyul, she's a flirt, big dick energy, yet very shy and is an alternative teddy bear. She's protective of you and loves hyping people up, yet still doesn't like to be in the spotlight, not saying she won't work that shit, but she doesn't choose to be in it. She loves food, so if you're going out to eat it's usually with her and if it's drinking, that's with Jimin.
Oh Jimin, another flirt. Flirt 2.0 he loves the attention, oh he will put on a performance for anyone who looks his way. He taught your nephew how to body roll, now the boy won't sit down, his confidence is at another level now. Jimin is also protective. Being close to him and Moonbyul, you realize that the two would laugh when they're ready to break shit. Yeah, crazy. Jimin flirts with anything, Moonie, flirts with anyone. I promise there's a big difference.
So today since you're drinking and eating out, your with these lovely to maniacs. Moonie and Chimmy. You know their chaotic, but you didn't think the 3 of you would be doing what ya'll are about to do.
To be Continued
reader and chuu rn:
I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE WHERE THIS GOES AAAAAA
What the Fuck is Up with Secretary Hong? Pt. 4 - A Silly Little Situation
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joshua sits on the edge of your bed, pouting at how you groan in pain.
"is it hurting too much?", he asks.
"it got better after i took the pill", you mumble against your pillow. "but the cold weather doesn't help."
he nods, resting his hand on the small of your back as he tries to soothe you.
"do you need anything?"
"i don't think so", you look at him. "maybe just food?"
"um, exactly what i was thinking", joshua smiles at you. "how do you feel about going to that ramen place we like? maybe a hot dish will help you?"
you smile at him too, nodding.
of course you could count on joshua to take care of you, any way you wanted.
hello! can i req for a short bf!shua fic wherein yn has been sick for days and shua takes care of her and it kinda overwhelms her bec it was her first time being taken care of like that by other person (she’s used to being alone & shua just love her so much huhu) thank you! 🤍
Here Now - Joshua Hong
WC: 1k || Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst (?) || Lover boy Joshua Hong is in the house!!
A/N: I'm not gonna tell y'all what to do but...you maybe totally should envision this to "Lean On Me" (aka my favoritest SVT song ever)
It's been days since you've gotten up from the comfy nest you created for yourself on your bed. Wrapped up in blankets and snuggling pillows like a newborn monkey.
You hadn't gotten sick like this in forever, it's very possible that you haven't been this sick in your entire life actually. You've been calling out of work for days and any movements made past the kitchen or the bathroom were futile attempts that would leave you hurling.
So all in all, you're extremely lucky to have Joshua by your side. Bringing you meals, making you meals, making sure you're taking medicine, he even took a few days off to make sure that if you needed him he was there.
Which, if you were being honest, made you feel even more sick.
It's not like the attention wasn't appreciated...no! You loved the way that Shua loved. You really truly did! It's rare that fights ever caused wedges between you because he was always so good with communication. He was always keen on making sure that you knew that he was yours and only yours, calling every single night on tour and planning dates like it was his job. Shua was - just as he's boasted about all these years - a gentleman.
But you'd be lying if you didn't acknowledge that this didn't feel right, that him taking care of you felt comfortable. It was anything but.
You can take care of yourself and you have for many many years. So when Shua started to bring over food, made sure to set alarms to remind you to take medicine, and spend nights at your place - it's fair to say that you felt suffocated? Or it's more like you didn't want to take up his time.
Joshua is busy. You've always known him to be extremely hard-working, not only in your relationship but also in his professional life. And it's not like you ever minded, in fact, you enjoy being alone. It's just how life has turned out for you thus far, in ways, being alone is much more comfortable than being surrounded by others constantly.
When you'd gotten together it was pretty out of the ordinary. It's not like you're polar opposites but Shua is so outgoing, friendly, and sociable - it astonished you how kind he was to everyone. To be able to call him your boyfriend seems a bit like a privilege. And it only made it that much harder to accept this kind of care.
"You don't have to do all this Shua."
"Hmm? What do you mean?" He stares at you from the edge of the best where he's sitting, the thermometer still in his hand as he had just checked your temperature.
"I mean take time off and stuff. You don't have to do this for me."
Utterly confused he keeps quiet, placing the thermometer on the nightstand. He's always been good about letting other people have the space to speak.
"I know you're trying to be nice...but I can do stuff myself. You don't have to dote on me." He's letting you finish your speech but as you look into his eyes you can see he's readying himself to refute. "I know you're busy-"
"No." His tone is so stern that it scares you.
"Josh-" You nervously rub your hands together but Shua is quick to hold your palms in his.
"I'm not busy, y/n. I'm not busy when it comes to you."
"That's the thing Shua! You really shouldn't feel like you need to do any of this just because I'm your partner or out of any obligations...." He sees the guilty look on your face as you stare down at your intertwined fingers.
He scoffs, "Yeah and you shouldn't feel like you're a burden to me because I'm your partner." He rolls his eyes with a smile but you're completely blown away by the statement. "Seriously...you act like we're not gonna recite the words "through sickness and health" one day."
"Yeah but you have so much going on- I've taken care of myself for forever so it's really okay for me to continue to do so. I haven't had the kind of support you do, y'know? I've grown accustomed to being alone and doing things alone..." You take a big breath and let it out, letting the weight glide off your shoulders. "I just don't want to be another thing you think you have to worry about."
He's looking at you with the biggest stupidest doe eyes, taking in every single word you say. It only makes your heart pound more and not in any sort of lovesick manner, but in embarrassment of the situation.
"You're so...frustrating sometimes y/n."
Dumbfounded at the jab your face screws up in disbelief of his words...it feels like your world could come crashing down right now. Maybe you just shouldn't have said anything-
"I know you've done things all on your own. You're literally one of the strongest people I know. It's one of my favorite qualities about you. You're independent, reliable, and so- Just- Ugh!" He facepalms. "I know all of this about you - you're so perfect and it breaks my heart that you would ever think you could be any sort of problem for me. I'm here for you. Yes, you've learned to go through it all alone and take care of yourself. But that doesn't mean that you have to do that...especially not anymore."
You don't know if it would be more appropriate to cry or smile in this situation so you resolve to just holding him as close as you can. You can feel as tears begin to gather but you hold yourself together -although, now you know that he wouldn't mind if you let it all go.
"It worries me so much that you feel like you can't lean on me." He rests in the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin.
"Just rest now, babe. Look your temp is already a lot better than yesterday." He separates from you and holds the thermometer up as proof, "Rest. I'm here now and I refuse to let you go through life alone!" That goofy smile that had you fallen head over heels for adorns his face.
*RING RING RING* "Medicine alarm..." He presses a kiss to your cheek. Yeah, you're really lucky to have Joshua.
A/N: Crying, I love him, Mom!! Also, I'm so sorry this took so much longer to write than I expected. I was out of ideasssss and dialogue was so rough to come up with for this one. (lowkey might wake up tmrw and feel so shit abt the dialogue ;-;) But thank you for requesting @honglynights !! I hope you enjoy! Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)
Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda
hello! can i req for a short bf!shua fic wherein yn has been sick for days and shua takes care of her and it kinda overwhelms her bec it was her first time being taken care of like that by other person (she’s used to being alone & shua just love her so much huhu) thank you! 🤍
Here Now - Joshua Hong
WC: 1k || Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst (?) || Lover boy Joshua Hong is in the house!!
A/N: I'm not gonna tell y'all what to do but...you maybe totally should envision this to "Lean On Me" (aka my favoritest SVT song ever)
It's been days since you've gotten up from the comfy nest you created for yourself on your bed. Wrapped up in blankets and snuggling pillows like a newborn monkey.
You hadn't gotten sick like this in forever, it's very possible that you haven't been this sick in your entire life actually. You've been calling out of work for days and any movements made past the kitchen or the bathroom were futile attempts that would leave you hurling.
So all in all, you're extremely lucky to have Joshua by your side. Bringing you meals, making you meals, making sure you're taking medicine, he even took a few days off to make sure that if you needed him he was there.
Which, if you were being honest, made you feel even more sick.
It's not like the attention wasn't appreciated...no! You loved the way that Shua loved. You really truly did! It's rare that fights ever caused wedges between you because he was always so good with communication. He was always keen on making sure that you knew that he was yours and only yours, calling every single night on tour and planning dates like it was his job. Shua was - just as he's boasted about all these years - a gentleman.
But you'd be lying if you didn't acknowledge that this didn't feel right, that him taking care of you felt comfortable. It was anything but.
You can take care of yourself and you have for many many years. So when Shua started to bring over food, made sure to set alarms to remind you to take medicine, and spend nights at your place - it's fair to say that you felt suffocated? Or it's more like you didn't want to take up his time.
Joshua is busy. You've always known him to be extremely hard-working, not only in your relationship but also in his professional life. And it's not like you ever minded, in fact, you enjoy being alone. It's just how life has turned out for you thus far, in ways, being alone is much more comfortable than being surrounded by others constantly.
When you'd gotten together it was pretty out of the ordinary. It's not like you're polar opposites but Shua is so outgoing, friendly, and sociable - it astonished you how kind he was to everyone. To be able to call him your boyfriend seems a bit like a privilege. And it only made it that much harder to accept this kind of care.
"You don't have to do all this Shua."
"Hmm? What do you mean?" He stares at you from the edge of the best where he's sitting, the thermometer still in his hand as he had just checked your temperature.
"I mean take time off and stuff. You don't have to do this for me."
Utterly confused he keeps quiet, placing the thermometer on the nightstand. He's always been good about letting other people have the space to speak.
"I know you're trying to be nice...but I can do stuff myself. You don't have to dote on me." He's letting you finish your speech but as you look into his eyes you can see he's readying himself to refute. "I know you're busy-"
"No." His tone is so stern that it scares you.
"Josh-" You nervously rub your hands together but Shua is quick to hold your palms in his.
"I'm not busy, y/n. I'm not busy when it comes to you."
"That's the thing Shua! You really shouldn't feel like you need to do any of this just because I'm your partner or out of any obligations...." He sees the guilty look on your face as you stare down at your intertwined fingers.
He scoffs, "Yeah and you shouldn't feel like you're a burden to me because I'm your partner." He rolls his eyes with a smile but you're completely blown away by the statement. "Seriously...you act like we're not gonna recite the words "through sickness and health" one day."
"Yeah but you have so much going on- I've taken care of myself for forever so it's really okay for me to continue to do so. I haven't had the kind of support you do, y'know? I've grown accustomed to being alone and doing things alone..." You take a big breath and let it out, letting the weight glide off your shoulders. "I just don't want to be another thing you think you have to worry about."
He's looking at you with the biggest stupidest doe eyes, taking in every single word you say. It only makes your heart pound more and not in any sort of lovesick manner, but in embarrassment of the situation.
"You're so...frustrating sometimes y/n."
Dumbfounded at the jab your face screws up in disbelief of his words...it feels like your world could come crashing down right now. Maybe you just shouldn't have said anything-
"I know you've done things all on your own. You're literally one of the strongest people I know. It's one of my favorite qualities about you. You're independent, reliable, and so- Just- Ugh!" He facepalms. "I know all of this about you - you're so perfect and it breaks my heart that you would ever think you could be any sort of problem for me. I'm here for you. Yes, you've learned to go through it all alone and take care of yourself. But that doesn't mean that you have to do that...especially not anymore."
You don't know if it would be more appropriate to cry or smile in this situation so you resolve to just holding him as close as you can. You can feel as tears begin to gather but you hold yourself together -although, now you know that he wouldn't mind if you let it all go.
"It worries me so much that you feel like you can't lean on me." He rests in the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin.
"Just rest now, babe. Look your temp is already a lot better than yesterday." He separates from you and holds the thermometer up as proof, "Rest. I'm here now and I refuse to let you go through life alone!" That goofy smile that had you fallen head over heels for adorns his face.
*RING RING RING* "Medicine alarm..." He presses a kiss to your cheek. Yeah, you're really lucky to have Joshua.
A/N: Crying, I love him, Mom!! Also, I'm so sorry this took so much longer to write than I expected. I was out of ideasssss and dialogue was so rough to come up with for this one. (lowkey might wake up tmrw and feel so shit abt the dialogue ;-;) But thank you for requesting @honglynights !! I hope you enjoy! Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)
Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda
hello! can i req for a short bf!shua fic wherein yn has been sick for days and shua takes care of her and it kinda overwhelms her bec it was her first time being taken care of like that by other person (she’s used to being alone & shua just love her so much huhu) thank you! 🤍
Here Now - Joshua Hong
WC: 1k || Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst (?) || Lover boy Joshua Hong is in the house!!
A/N: I'm not gonna tell y'all what to do but...you maybe totally should envision this to "Lean On Me" (aka my favoritest SVT song ever)
It's been days since you've gotten up from the comfy nest you created for yourself on your bed. Wrapped up in blankets and snuggling pillows like a newborn monkey.
You hadn't gotten sick like this in forever, it's very possible that you haven't been this sick in your entire life actually. You've been calling out of work for days and any movements made past the kitchen or the bathroom were futile attempts that would leave you hurling.
So all in all, you're extremely lucky to have Joshua by your side. Bringing you meals, making you meals, making sure you're taking medicine, he even took a few days off to make sure that if you needed him he was there.
Which, if you were being honest, made you feel even more sick.
It's not like the attention wasn't appreciated...no! You loved the way that Shua loved. You really truly did! It's rare that fights ever caused wedges between you because he was always so good with communication. He was always keen on making sure that you knew that he was yours and only yours, calling every single night on tour and planning dates like it was his job. Shua was - just as he's boasted about all these years - a gentleman.
But you'd be lying if you didn't acknowledge that this didn't feel right, that him taking care of you felt comfortable. It was anything but.
You can take care of yourself and you have for many many years. So when Shua started to bring over food, made sure to set alarms to remind you to take medicine, and spend nights at your place - it's fair to say that you felt suffocated? Or it's more like you didn't want to take up his time.
Joshua is busy. You've always known him to be extremely hard-working, not only in your relationship but also in his professional life. And it's not like you ever minded, in fact, you enjoy being alone. It's just how life has turned out for you thus far, in ways, being alone is much more comfortable than being surrounded by others constantly.
When you'd gotten together it was pretty out of the ordinary. It's not like you're polar opposites but Shua is so outgoing, friendly, and sociable - it astonished you how kind he was to everyone. To be able to call him your boyfriend seems a bit like a privilege. And it only made it that much harder to accept this kind of care.
"You don't have to do all this Shua."
"Hmm? What do you mean?" He stares at you from the edge of the best where he's sitting, the thermometer still in his hand as he had just checked your temperature.
"I mean take time off and stuff. You don't have to do this for me."
Utterly confused he keeps quiet, placing the thermometer on the nightstand. He's always been good about letting other people have the space to speak.
"I know you're trying to be nice...but I can do stuff myself. You don't have to dote on me." He's letting you finish your speech but as you look into his eyes you can see he's readying himself to refute. "I know you're busy-"
"No." His tone is so stern that it scares you.
"Josh-" You nervously rub your hands together but Shua is quick to hold your palms in his.
"I'm not busy, y/n. I'm not busy when it comes to you."
"That's the thing Shua! You really shouldn't feel like you need to do any of this just because I'm your partner or out of any obligations...." He sees the guilty look on your face as you stare down at your intertwined fingers.
He scoffs, "Yeah and you shouldn't feel like you're a burden to me because I'm your partner." He rolls his eyes with a smile but you're completely blown away by the statement. "Seriously...you act like we're not gonna recite the words "through sickness and health" one day."
"Yeah but you have so much going on- I've taken care of myself for forever so it's really okay for me to continue to do so. I haven't had the kind of support you do, y'know? I've grown accustomed to being alone and doing things alone..." You take a big breath and let it out, letting the weight glide off your shoulders. "I just don't want to be another thing you think you have to worry about."
He's looking at you with the biggest stupidest doe eyes, taking in every single word you say. It only makes your heart pound more and not in any sort of lovesick manner, but in embarrassment of the situation.
"You're so...frustrating sometimes y/n."
Dumbfounded at the jab your face screws up in disbelief of his words...it feels like your world could come crashing down right now. Maybe you just shouldn't have said anything-
"I know you've done things all on your own. You're literally one of the strongest people I know. It's one of my favorite qualities about you. You're independent, reliable, and so- Just- Ugh!" He facepalms. "I know all of this about you - you're so perfect and it breaks my heart that you would ever think you could be any sort of problem for me. I'm here for you. Yes, you've learned to go through it all alone and take care of yourself. But that doesn't mean that you have to do that...especially not anymore."
You don't know if it would be more appropriate to cry or smile in this situation so you resolve to just holding him as close as you can. You can feel as tears begin to gather but you hold yourself together -although, now you know that he wouldn't mind if you let it all go.
"It worries me so much that you feel like you can't lean on me." He rests in the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin.
"Just rest now, babe. Look your temp is already a lot better than yesterday." He separates from you and holds the thermometer up as proof, "Rest. I'm here now and I refuse to let you go through life alone!" That goofy smile that had you fallen head over heels for adorns his face.
*RING RING RING* "Medicine alarm..." He presses a kiss to your cheek. Yeah, you're really lucky to have Joshua.
A/N: Crying, I love him, Mom!! Also, I'm so sorry this took so much longer to write than I expected. I was out of ideasssss and dialogue was so rough to come up with for this one. (lowkey might wake up tmrw and feel so shit abt the dialogue ;-;) But thank you for requesting @honglynights !! I hope you enjoy! Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)
Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda
hello! can i req for a short bf!shua fic wherein yn has been sick for days and shua takes care of her and it kinda overwhelms her bec it was her first time being taken care of like that by other person (she’s used to being alone & shua just love her so much huhu) thank you! 🤍
Here Now - Joshua Hong
WC: 1k || Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst (?) || Lover boy Joshua Hong is in the house!!
A/N: I'm not gonna tell y'all what to do but...you maybe totally should envision this to "Lean On Me" (aka my favoritest SVT song ever)
It's been days since you've gotten up from the comfy nest you created for yourself on your bed. Wrapped up in blankets and snuggling pillows like a newborn monkey.
You hadn't gotten sick like this in forever, it's very possible that you haven't been this sick in your entire life actually. You've been calling out of work for days and any movements made past the kitchen or the bathroom were futile attempts that would leave you hurling.
So all in all, you're extremely lucky to have Joshua by your side. Bringing you meals, making you meals, making sure you're taking medicine, he even took a few days off to make sure that if you needed him he was there.
Which, if you were being honest, made you feel even more sick.
It's not like the attention wasn't appreciated...no! You loved the way that Shua loved. You really truly did! It's rare that fights ever caused wedges between you because he was always so good with communication. He was always keen on making sure that you knew that he was yours and only yours, calling every single night on tour and planning dates like it was his job. Shua was - just as he's boasted about all these years - a gentleman.
But you'd be lying if you didn't acknowledge that this didn't feel right, that him taking care of you felt comfortable. It was anything but.
You can take care of yourself and you have for many many years. So when Shua started to bring over food, made sure to set alarms to remind you to take medicine, and spend nights at your place - it's fair to say that you felt suffocated? Or it's more like you didn't want to take up his time.
Joshua is busy. You've always known him to be extremely hard-working, not only in your relationship but also in his professional life. And it's not like you ever minded, in fact, you enjoy being alone. It's just how life has turned out for you thus far, in ways, being alone is much more comfortable than being surrounded by others constantly.
When you'd gotten together it was pretty out of the ordinary. It's not like you're polar opposites but Shua is so outgoing, friendly, and sociable - it astonished you how kind he was to everyone. To be able to call him your boyfriend seems a bit like a privilege. And it only made it that much harder to accept this kind of care.
"You don't have to do all this Shua."
"Hmm? What do you mean?" He stares at you from the edge of the best where he's sitting, the thermometer still in his hand as he had just checked your temperature.
"I mean take time off and stuff. You don't have to do this for me."
Utterly confused he keeps quiet, placing the thermometer on the nightstand. He's always been good about letting other people have the space to speak.
"I know you're trying to be nice...but I can do stuff myself. You don't have to dote on me." He's letting you finish your speech but as you look into his eyes you can see he's readying himself to refute. "I know you're busy-"
"No." His tone is so stern that it scares you.
"Josh-" You nervously rub your hands together but Shua is quick to hold your palms in his.
"I'm not busy, y/n. I'm not busy when it comes to you."
"That's the thing Shua! You really shouldn't feel like you need to do any of this just because I'm your partner or out of any obligations...." He sees the guilty look on your face as you stare down at your intertwined fingers.
He scoffs, "Yeah and you shouldn't feel like you're a burden to me because I'm your partner." He rolls his eyes with a smile but you're completely blown away by the statement. "Seriously...you act like we're not gonna recite the words "through sickness and health" one day."
"Yeah but you have so much going on- I've taken care of myself for forever so it's really okay for me to continue to do so. I haven't had the kind of support you do, y'know? I've grown accustomed to being alone and doing things alone..." You take a big breath and let it out, letting the weight glide off your shoulders. "I just don't want to be another thing you think you have to worry about."
He's looking at you with the biggest stupidest doe eyes, taking in every single word you say. It only makes your heart pound more and not in any sort of lovesick manner, but in embarrassment of the situation.
"You're so...frustrating sometimes y/n."
Dumbfounded at the jab your face screws up in disbelief of his words...it feels like your world could come crashing down right now. Maybe you just shouldn't have said anything-
"I know you've done things all on your own. You're literally one of the strongest people I know. It's one of my favorite qualities about you. You're independent, reliable, and so- Just- Ugh!" He facepalms. "I know all of this about you - you're so perfect and it breaks my heart that you would ever think you could be any sort of problem for me. I'm here for you. Yes, you've learned to go through it all alone and take care of yourself. But that doesn't mean that you have to do that...especially not anymore."
You don't know if it would be more appropriate to cry or smile in this situation so you resolve to just holding him as close as you can. You can feel as tears begin to gather but you hold yourself together -although, now you know that he wouldn't mind if you let it all go.
"It worries me so much that you feel like you can't lean on me." He rests in the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin.
"Just rest now, babe. Look your temp is already a lot better than yesterday." He separates from you and holds the thermometer up as proof, "Rest. I'm here now and I refuse to let you go through life alone!" That goofy smile that had you fallen head over heels for adorns his face.
*RING RING RING* "Medicine alarm..." He presses a kiss to your cheek. Yeah, you're really lucky to have Joshua.
A/N: Crying, I love him, Mom!! Also, I'm so sorry this took so much longer to write than I expected. I was out of ideasssss and dialogue was so rough to come up with for this one. (lowkey might wake up tmrw and feel so shit abt the dialogue ;-;) But thank you for requesting @honglynights !! I hope you enjoy! Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)
Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda
hello! can i req for a short bf!shua fic wherein yn has been sick for days and shua takes care of her and it kinda overwhelms her bec it was her first time being taken care of like that by other person (she’s used to being alone & shua just love her so much huhu) thank you! 🤍
Here Now - Joshua Hong
WC: 1k || Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst (?) || Lover boy Joshua Hong is in the house!!
A/N: I'm not gonna tell y'all what to do but...you maybe totally should envision this to "Lean On Me" (aka my favoritest SVT song ever)
It's been days since you've gotten up from the comfy nest you created for yourself on your bed. Wrapped up in blankets and snuggling pillows like a newborn monkey.
You hadn't gotten sick like this in forever, it's very possible that you haven't been this sick in your entire life actually. You've been calling out of work for days and any movements made past the kitchen or the bathroom were futile attempts that would leave you hurling.
So all in all, you're extremely lucky to have Joshua by your side. Bringing you meals, making you meals, making sure you're taking medicine, he even took a few days off to make sure that if you needed him he was there.
Which, if you were being honest, made you feel even more sick.
It's not like the attention wasn't appreciated...no! You loved the way that Shua loved. You really truly did! It's rare that fights ever caused wedges between you because he was always so good with communication. He was always keen on making sure that you knew that he was yours and only yours, calling every single night on tour and planning dates like it was his job. Shua was - just as he's boasted about all these years - a gentleman.
But you'd be lying if you didn't acknowledge that this didn't feel right, that him taking care of you felt comfortable. It was anything but.
You can take care of yourself and you have for many many years. So when Shua started to bring over food, made sure to set alarms to remind you to take medicine, and spend nights at your place - it's fair to say that you felt suffocated? Or it's more like you didn't want to take up his time.
Joshua is busy. You've always known him to be extremely hard-working, not only in your relationship but also in his professional life. And it's not like you ever minded, in fact, you enjoy being alone. It's just how life has turned out for you thus far, in ways, being alone is much more comfortable than being surrounded by others constantly.
When you'd gotten together it was pretty out of the ordinary. It's not like you're polar opposites but Shua is so outgoing, friendly, and sociable - it astonished you how kind he was to everyone. To be able to call him your boyfriend seems a bit like a privilege. And it only made it that much harder to accept this kind of care.
"You don't have to do all this Shua."
"Hmm? What do you mean?" He stares at you from the edge of the best where he's sitting, the thermometer still in his hand as he had just checked your temperature.
"I mean take time off and stuff. You don't have to do this for me."
Utterly confused he keeps quiet, placing the thermometer on the nightstand. He's always been good about letting other people have the space to speak.
"I know you're trying to be nice...but I can do stuff myself. You don't have to dote on me." He's letting you finish your speech but as you look into his eyes you can see he's readying himself to refute. "I know you're busy-"
"No." His tone is so stern that it scares you.
"Josh-" You nervously rub your hands together but Shua is quick to hold your palms in his.
"I'm not busy, y/n. I'm not busy when it comes to you."
"That's the thing Shua! You really shouldn't feel like you need to do any of this just because I'm your partner or out of any obligations...." He sees the guilty look on your face as you stare down at your intertwined fingers.
He scoffs, "Yeah and you shouldn't feel like you're a burden to me because I'm your partner." He rolls his eyes with a smile but you're completely blown away by the statement. "Seriously...you act like we're not gonna recite the words "through sickness and health" one day."
"Yeah but you have so much going on- I've taken care of myself for forever so it's really okay for me to continue to do so. I haven't had the kind of support you do, y'know? I've grown accustomed to being alone and doing things alone..." You take a big breath and let it out, letting the weight glide off your shoulders. "I just don't want to be another thing you think you have to worry about."
He's looking at you with the biggest stupidest doe eyes, taking in every single word you say. It only makes your heart pound more and not in any sort of lovesick manner, but in embarrassment of the situation.
"You're so...frustrating sometimes y/n."
Dumbfounded at the jab your face screws up in disbelief of his words...it feels like your world could come crashing down right now. Maybe you just shouldn't have said anything-
"I know you've done things all on your own. You're literally one of the strongest people I know. It's one of my favorite qualities about you. You're independent, reliable, and so- Just- Ugh!" He facepalms. "I know all of this about you - you're so perfect and it breaks my heart that you would ever think you could be any sort of problem for me. I'm here for you. Yes, you've learned to go through it all alone and take care of yourself. But that doesn't mean that you have to do that...especially not anymore."
You don't know if it would be more appropriate to cry or smile in this situation so you resolve to just holding him as close as you can. You can feel as tears begin to gather but you hold yourself together -although, now you know that he wouldn't mind if you let it all go.
"It worries me so much that you feel like you can't lean on me." He rests in the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin.
"Just rest now, babe. Look your temp is already a lot better than yesterday." He separates from you and holds the thermometer up as proof, "Rest. I'm here now and I refuse to let you go through life alone!" That goofy smile that had you fallen head over heels for adorns his face.
*RING RING RING* "Medicine alarm..." He presses a kiss to your cheek. Yeah, you're really lucky to have Joshua.
A/N: Crying, I love him, Mom!! Also, I'm so sorry this took so much longer to write than I expected. I was out of ideasssss and dialogue was so rough to come up with for this one. (lowkey might wake up tmrw and feel so shit abt the dialogue ;-;) But thank you for requesting @honglynights !! I hope you enjoy! Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)
Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda
hi, can i request a shot with # 85 and 69 with joshua please
dirtysvthoughts hits 100 celebration!
a/n: two in one night! i’m trying to answer everyone’s asks as soon as i can! 🥲 anon, this was such a good combo - i hope you like it! <3 i got a little carried away, so i’m inserting a read more cut under the tags!
tags/warnings: female! reader, FINGERING, backstage quickies, shua’s not an idol, but he’s the main vocalist/guitarist in a local band, established relationship, very slight dirty talking
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
69. “i’ve never done this before.”
85. “i didn’t know you were so sensitive.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
[11:00 p.m.]
“goodnight, everyone!” you hear your boyfriend scream out, met with supportive roars from the audience. he runs backstage and embraces you the second he sees you, sweeping you off your feet momentarily. when he puts you down, you two share a sweet kiss.
“you were amazing, babe!” you exclaim. joshua, your boyfriend, is the main vocalist and guitarist of a band in your city. they’ve taken off within the past year and they’ve been selling out gigs left and right. tonight, they just finished the last concert of a six show series. you can feel his adrenaline as he smiles at you, caressing your cheek -trying to slow his breathing.
“i couldn’t have done this without you, y’know. thanks for supporting me these past few weeks.” you can hear the sincerity in his voice.
“no problem, honey. that’s what i’m here for,” you say as you bring him into a kiss, angling his neck so you can go deeper. he moans into your mouth, gripping at your waist.
you two continue to make out, ignoring the “get a room” comments from his band mates and tech staff as they pass you, joshua’s hands now moving from your waist to groping your breasts, sitting so pretty in the crop top you wear wearing.
he pulls away from you for a second, and you already miss his touch.
“do you wanna move someplace more private?” he whispers into your ear.
“yeah, not being interrupted would be nice,” you say as you hold onto his broad shoulders.
what you didn’t realize was that your idea of “a private place” was completely different from his. you assumed he was gonna take you back to his place, or at the very least his car.
you just ended up in a secluded area backstage.
“josh, i-i’ve never done this before.. backstage sex? what if someone catches us?” you slightly panic as he takes off your crop top, leaving you in your black bra and denim jeans. he then starts to unbutton and unzip your jeans, fingering teasing your clit from the outside by rubbing your panties.
“i doubt anyone will find us here, besides - they all saw us earlier. they’ll think twice before they look for us,” he smirks as he goes inside your panties, and you moan out at the feeling of two of his fingers pleasuring you.
“mmm, i didn’t know you were so sensitive.. are you like this after all the shows?”
“i think this is just for tonight.. it’s your last show for a minute, and i get you all to myself. i guess that would make me a bit horny,” you bite your lip as you make eye contact with him.
“nice to know,” he smiles as he inserts another finger inside of you, and you grip onto his arms, your moans growing louder and more consistent.
“josh, j-josh - i-i think i’m getting close,” you whimper, your body letting you know that your orgasm was not that far off.
“already? we just got started baby!” he laughs, clearly enjoying how far gone you were for him. “i guess this means we’ll have even more fun back at my place - getting you to cum over and over until my bedsheets are filled with your juices.. would you like that, honey? me making you cum so much all night?”
his words send you over the edge and you cum all over his fingers, gasping for air after experiencing such a high.
“damn josh.. you really know how to pleasure a girl,” you laugh breathlessly, rubbing his chest and feeling his muscles.
he smirks at you, more than satisfied with how he’s left you. “you wanna skip dinner with the band? we can just pick up something and get to what we have planned.”
“say less,” you say without hesitation.
and true to his word, later that night, he did fill his bedsheets with your juices.
-kenny
Golden Hour | husband!joshua x reader
After a long day of surf and sun, Joshua somehow still has the energy to fuck you into the hotel mattress. Being in love (and obsessed) with his wife always pays off.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k | Pairing: hjs x reader | Genre: smut
Part of the Husband Joshua series! Can be read as a standalone
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V
Warnings: idk how to surf so if this is wrong blame wikihow, possessive!josh, drink mention but it doesn’t have to be alcoholic, oral r. rec., spitting, some spanking, fingering, piv sex, breeding kink but they don't want kids, creampie(s), cockwarming
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, on some form of birth control, referred to as a wife, wears a bikini (every body is a bikini body), wears a dress
Joshua raises a hand to his face, holding it above his eyes to block the glaring sun as he scans the crowded shore for you. He’s been out in the water for a while, trying to improve his surfing skills and also perhaps trying to impress you, just a little. Neither you nor him have been to the beach since your honeymoon, and he doesn’t want you to think those lessons he splurged on while you were having a spa day were for nothing.
He’s caught a few waves so far but hasn’t made it close enough to the shore to see your face, so he has no idea if you’ve been watching him or if you’ve just been reading and listening to music. He won’t be hurt if you haven’t had your eyes on him, but he does want you to see him ride at least one wave.
He hears some murmurs from the few other surfers in front of him and turns around, immediately seeing what has them talking. There’s a big one coming in, building and building and building, and if he starts paddling now, he just might make it.
So he leans forward onto his stomach, his arms powering through the water even as his muscles begin to ache from so much use. The ocean beneath him starts getting sucked in, contributing to the rolling wave, and he prepares himself to pop up and find his balance.
His heart races as he takes off, getting his feet beneath him and standing on steady legs, his arms loose and his eyes trained on the shore. He rides the wave as far as he can, bailing when it starts to peter out and immediately swimming up to catch his breath. Climbing back onto his board, he looks around for your rented rainbow sun umbrella, grinning when he realizes he’s much closer to it than he thought he’d be.
You’re not under it though, his smile dropping as he starts to survey the beach, searching for you. He can’t seem to find you, and for some reason that has his heart racing again, this time in anxiety rather than exhilaration.
“Joshie! That was amazing!” You exclaim from somewhere to the left of him, your voice just a bit faint but still easily recognizable. He whips his head over, his shoulders relaxing as soon as he sets eyes on you, wading waist deep in the clear blue water and making your way toward him.
He beams and hops off the board, closing the remaining distance and catching you with one arm as you launch yourself at him. The other keeps hold of his board, though he wishes he had both hands free to hug you back.
He also wishes he could feel your skin against his, but his swim shirt is still in the way and he won’t be able to take it off until you let go of him, which he’s not going to ask you to do any time soon.
It’s silly but he’s missed you while he was out surfing, even though it’s only been a couple of hours. You’ve been on vacation for three days already and he’s grown used to sharing every minute with you, being in your presence for each breath in and each breath out, bar bathroom breaks and the one nap you took without him when he wanted to explore and you wanted to stay in.
He wishes it could be like this all the time, but he’ll settle for the rest of the week if only because he knows he’ll have you for the rest of his life.
Too soon, you pull away, sliding your hands from his shoulders to rest on his chest, your touch appreciative and the slightest bit possessive. His hand on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh exposed by your bikini. You let him pick out your swimsuit today, and while some men might want to cover their wife up, he’s the opposite.
He thinks it’s hot that people are looking at you, wanting you, not knowing he’s the only one you’ll ever go home with. They realize when he presses his lips to yours in a claiming kiss, when he lets his hands wander a little, when they notice the matching rings on your left fourth fingers.
He doesn’t even know if anyone is looking at you now, too busy staring into your eyes to notice anything else, but he feels the urge all the same. You can already tell what he wants, leaning in to meet him in the middle as he kisses you deeply, slowly, sucking at your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth when it opens on a gasp.
His hand slips down to your ass, squeezing it over your swimsuit hard, pulling your cheek up and over, surely tugging at your pussy too. You squirm against his chest, pressing closer to him as your fingernails dig into his pecs.
He remembers you’re at a public beach when a wave crashes into you, and thank goodness it did because he was millimeters away from slipping his hand into your bikini bottoms so he could find out if you’re wet from the water or wet for him.
He pulls away and laughs, shifting his hand to your lower back and pecking you one last time before breathing, “Should we head back to the room?”
“Yeah, I think we should. Wanna lay out enough to dry off first?” You offer hopefully, and while he kind of just wants to throw you over his shoulder and haul you to the hotel now, he knows you hate tracking water through the clean lobby.
“Sure, baby, we can do that,” he smiles fondly, giving you one last squeeze and releasing you. His board goes under one arm and you go under the other, your hand coming up to hold his as you walk back to the shore together.
He splits off from you to return the board to the surf shack, promising he’ll bring back one of those coconut drinks for you to share though he knows you’ll likely have most of it.
The line isn’t too long for the return of the board or the purchase of the coconut drink, thankfully, and he walks back to you with care, not wanting to spill even a drop.
You’re on your stomach to the side of the umbrella when he arrives, not under its shade but close enough that it’s obviously yours, a thick terry cloth blanket spread out under you with just enough room for his body too. He sighs contentedly as he sits next to you, handing over the drink and smiling as your eyes widen with glee, your lips pursing around the straw to take an excited sip.
He reaches for the hem of his surf shirt and yanks it off, wringing it out away from the blanket and laying it flat on the edge of the lounge you no longer occupy. You roll over to lay on your back and he feels your eyes on him like a physical touch, your gaze hot and familiar on his chest and stomach.
He loves how you look at him, loves that you’d rather stare at him than at the beautiful beach around you, loves even more that you’re obsessed with his body just like he’s obsessed with yours.
He also loves that this way, he can look at you too. You shift up onto your elbows, your breasts jiggling with the movement, and he feels a bolt of desire shoot straight down his spine as he lets his eyes lovingly travel over every available inch of you. Over your soft tummy and your squeezable hips and your perfect, perfect thighs. Thighs he wants to suffocate between. Thighs he wants to sink his teeth into. Thighs he wants to hold down to the bed as he-
“I think I’m dry enough. Are you?”
He clears his throat and attempts to clear his head, but images of you still swim through his thoughts, even as he nods and tugs at his board shorts to subtly adjust himself. They don’t feel as wet between his fingers, just damp, and when he reaches for his shirt, it’s close enough to dry that he only cringes a little as he pulls it back on.
You pack up together quickly, and Joshua is almost relieved when you reach for your dress and tug it over your head, needing a reprieve from your near naked body. He’s less relieved when he remembers that it’s a fucking sundress.
Of course it is, that’s all you’ve been wearing on this trip, and he doesn’t know how he forgot. This is worse, because it’s his favorite article of clothing on you, and because he knows all you’ve got on under it is an easily untied, flimsy little bikini.
It takes everything in him not to pull you into one of the changing cabanas, bend you over, and make you scream for him; he manages somehow, the knowledge that he can do the latter two when you get into the room tiding him over, but only just.
He’s silent while you return the umbrella, his hand tight around yours as you walk through the lobby, and he’s glad you know him well enough to understand that he’s not upset or annoyed, just nearly out of his mind with desire for you.
The wait for the elevator feels like eons, especially when he looks at you in the reflection of the metal doors, your form slightly fuzzy but clear enough for him to see the rise of your tits under your dress and the way the hem flutters gently over your thighs. Those thighs…
The doors part with a ding and you pull him inside, pressing the button for your floor before the elevator fills with other guests, leaving you and Joshua at the back. You’ll have to maneuver in between them to get out but it means he can slide his hand up your dress and squeeze your ass again, his fingers slipping under your bikini to touch your bare skin.
They creep closer to the heat between your legs with every stop, and he’s just about to reach your pussy when the elevator lands on your floor. He reluctantly takes his hand back and rights your dress, murmuring, “Excuse us,” as he weaves around the few people left. When the doors close behind you, he twines his fingers with yours and breaks into a jog, tugging you to the room and grinning as a few bitten back giggles escape you.
He bounces on his toes as you dig the card out of your bag, your trembling fingers inserting it into the lock and his hand turning the handle as soon as the light glows green. He pushes the door open for you, following closely with his other hand tight on your hip, his dick already hard and throbbing in anticipation.
You’ve barely set your bag down before he’s steering you to the bed, crowding you up against the edge, and pressing your shoulder to bend you over. He flips up the hem of your dress and tears down your bikini, knocking your legs apart with his own and pushing his left knee up until yours rests on the bed. He’s sure you expect him to drop his shorts and sink right into you, which is probably why you gasp when he falls to his knees and slaps your ass with both hands before spreading your cheeks apart and shoving his tongue inside of you.
You taste fucking divine, the beloved flavor of your pussy tinged with salty seawater, and he groans deeply into you, fucking his tongue in and out of your entrance and swallowing as his mouth fills with saliva and your arousal.
He fucks you with his tongue until you’re whining and shaking above him, tilting your hips to improve the angle and rocking into his movements. The leg keeping you up starts to quiver, and he pulls away just long enough to gasp out, “On the bed, baby, get on the bed.”
You listen, clumsily climbing up and stretching out for him, face down, ass up, just like he likes you. He smacks your ass again just because he can before spreading your pussy open with his thumbs and spitting on your clenching entrance. Some of it seeps inside of you and some of it trails down to your clit, leaving the bud glistening and just begging for his attention.
He leans down and wraps his lips around it, sucking in hard, quick pulses until you cry out, “Joshie, please!”
“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” he mumbles into you, just loud enough for you to hear.
“Your fingers, I want your fingers,” you whimper into the pillow, arching your back and pressing further into him in wanton need.
He licks his lips to get one last taste of you and slides two digits deep inside, giving you no time to adjust to the intrusion before pulling them out to the tip and sinking them back in. His pace rockets up, his tired muscles hard at work as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet sound of your pussy accepting them filling the air.
He wants to hear your voice too, slowing down and leaning over you to slide his fingers beneath your cheek and turn your head to the side so you’re no longer muffled by the pillow. Your gaze catches his and he smiles tenderly at you, pressing a kiss to your temple before returning to his previous position and hooking his fingertips into your g-spot, grinding harshly into it.
Predictably, you yelp, your eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on massaging that sensitive patch, his breath catching as he feels you get wetter around his fingers. You’re moaning now, your brows scrunched with pleasure and your mouth stuck open, and he reaches his free hand up to tap at your bottom lip with two fingers, sliding them into your mouth when you open wider for him.
You suction around them immediately, your tongue laving over his knuckles and bathing his fingers in saliva, and he feels his cock throb in his shorts in response, the memory of your perfect lips around it visceral and precious. He yanks his fingers back before he can get too distracted, reaching around your hips to sandwich your clit between them.
He starts fucking you with his other hand again, your hips jerking with it, stimulating your clit as he curls his fingertips towards your stomach, tapping your sweet spot with every thrust. It’s not long before you’re gasping out his name and clenching down, your thighs juddering as you fight to hold yourself up through the pleasure.
He doesn’t stop, pinching your clit harder and digging his fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch you out for another. A third squeezes in beside the first two, making you whine and claw at the duvet, your cunt contracting and trying to suck his fingers in deeper when he pulls them out.
“Fuck,” he groans, releasing your clit to press down on your back and deepen the arch, making it even easier for him to hit your g-spot. He wants to be inside of you, desperately, but he wants to make you cum again first, wants you to be so wet, he can just glide right in.
You’re getting close, he can tell by the way you’re pushing back into his thrusts and sobbing, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to say it, but it just feels so fucking right that he can’t stop the words from coming out.
“Cum for me and I’ll breed you full.”
You suck in a sharp gasp and bear down, your pussy rippling and leaking and fever hot as you break apart beneath him, your arousal soaking his hand and dripping down his wrist. It seems like it lasts forever, though he’s sure it helps that he’s still fucking his fingers into your g-spot as much as your tightness will allow.
He knows you’re done when you whimper brokenly and pull away from his touch, your hand reaching back to hold his wrist in place so he doesn’t follow you. He decides to let you catch your breath, sliding off the bed to shed his shorts and wipe his hand off on a towel, bringing it with him so he can spread it out under you like he should have done before.
You’re on your side when he returns, and he climbs back onto the mattress before carefully tugging at your shoulder and hip, pulling you to rest on your back and waiting for you to look at him.
When your eyes blink open, they’re teary and dazed, and you watch as he gathers a couple pillows, weakly lifting your hips just enough for him to slide them under you and lay the towel out on top of them. He’s gentle as he sets his hands on the backs of your knees and pushes your legs up, the angle making it easier for you to keep them tucked to your chest when your hands replace his.
He can tell your head is full of clouds by the way you gaze at him, and he attempts to bring you some clarity by asking, “Remember what I said before?”
You think for a second, your lips pouting as you try to recall, and he can’t resist leaning down over you and pressing his mouth to yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he soothes the sting with his tongue.
When he pulls away, it seems to come to you, and your eyes clear up just a bit as you respond, “You said you’d breed me full if I came for you.”
“Good, baby, that’s right. So what do you think I’m going to do now?” He asks, sitting back up on his knees and shuffling closer to lay his aching cock on your wet pussy, just barely grinding against you.
“You’re gonna-,” you take in a halting breath. “You’re gonna breed me?”
“Yeah, honey,” he nods with a hungry smirk, shifting his hips back enough to line himself up before pressing forward a few inches and popping the head of his cock inside of you. “I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum, until it’s dripping out of you. And then I’m gonna fuck it back in, and fill you up even more. Until it takes.”
You whimper from deep in your throat, pressing your lips together and readjusting your grip on your legs, your eyes darting down to stare yearningly at his cock.
“Do you want that?” He whispers, working himself in as slowly as he can manage, teasing both you and himself.
You just nod, but he wants to hear you say it, needs to hear it from your own lips.
“Tell me then.”
“I- I want you to fill me up with your cum, fuck a baby into me, please.”
He sinks the rest of his cock inside of you, covering your hands with his and spreading your legs wider, pushing them into your chest and resting his weight on them as he draws back and snaps forward.
He’s not gentle now, and he’s definitely not slow, his hips smacking into your ass as he thrusts forcefully into you, his grunts of exertion soon joining the cries escaping you. You’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, your fingers tight on your thighs beneath his and your pussy fucking flawless around him, and he’s never been so in love.
That’s a thought he has constantly but he means it every single time, his devotion to you endless and all consuming.
His appetite for you is voracious enough to rival it; the need, the sheer greed that he feels when it comes to you stripping him down to his basest desires. He’s only human in the end, and nothing could be more human than the urge to love, to fuck, to breed you, to keep you. He knows you’re his already but beyond that ring on your finger, there’s one other thing that could show the world you belong to each other, and that includes pumping you so full of his cum, it sticks.
He’s getting close already just thinking about it, and the way you’re clenching and fluttering around him doesn’t help in the slightest. He wouldn’t mind breaking this early though, not when it means he can just get hard again and fuck his cum even deeper into you.
“Joshie,” you whine in the voice that means you’re inches away from the edge, and he feels his body respond, his heavy balls drawing up tight and his cock hardening further within you.
“Cum whenever you want, baby. I’m not stopping anytime soon,” he vows darkly, fully intent on keeping you in this bed and on his dick for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of his life.
You shudder at his words, gasping when he shifts his hips and changes the angle, the head of his cock now bullying right into your g-spot. He can’t hit as deep like this but he knows it’ll be enough to unravel you, and that’s exactly what he wants.
He grins wickedly when you start to ripple around him, knowing the waves of your orgasm are beginning to overtake you, and when it’s at its peak, he sinks in deep and lets you carry him with you. He groans roughly at the feeling of your undulating walls milking his cock, relief and bone deep satisfaction filling him as he fills you.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, fucking you through the sensitivity and burying his cum deeper inside of you. You buck against him in overstimulation, crying out his name with tears in your voice, and he feels his cock twitch and get harder, your pussy like a molten velvet vise around him.
An hour and two more loads pass by in a blur, every minute melting into the next as he ruts into you, barely pulling back enough to get any friction but grinding into your sweet spot to keep you pliant. He thinks he might’ve fucked you dumb, no words escaping your parted lips and no thoughts behind your glassy eyes. You’re still holding your legs up though, and that’s how he knows you’re present enough to hear him.
“Said I would fuck you full, didn’t I, baby?” He laughs breathily, his eyes trained on the sight of his cock thrusting into you, the combination of your arousal and his cum seeping out around him in bursts. “I think you’re pretty fucking full.”
You mumble something but he doesn’t catch it, and he shifts your legs onto his arms and leans down, bracing his hands on the bed to hold himself up. “What was that, honey?”
“Not enough,” you gasp out, releasing your thighs to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s not enough, Joshie, I want more.”
Your words blend together but he hears them all the same, and a bolt of desire shoots through him, traveling down his spine and ending in his cock. He gets his legs under him, trapping you in a mating press so he can put more power behind his hips as his strokes get deeper, longer, your fingernails digging into his neck with every thrust of his aching dick.
“I can give you one more, baby, I’ll give you whatever- whatever you want,” he groans raggedly, his vision blurring and his hips stuttering as he nears the edge for what he fears may be the last time. You clench and squeeze and flutter around him, whimpering, “Please, Joshie, breed me,” and that’s it for him.
This time when he cums, it’s enough to steal his voice, his breath, his thoughts. It’s blinding, the pleasure, but that just means he feels everything. He feels you falling to pieces on his cock, he feels the warmth of the sunset on his back, he feels his heart racing in his chest. He feels his cum filling you again, replacing what he’s fucked out, and more than anything, he feels satiated, like there’s nothing left to give and nothing left to take.
He all but collapses into you, shifting to rest his knees on the bed and dropping your legs from his arms, his face buried in your neck as he trembles and gasps for air. Your cunt is still hugging him tightly, and he winces at the sensitivity of his spent cock but doesn’t pull out, can’t pull out, not when he knows that all of his hard work will go to waste as soon as he does.
You run gentle fingers through his salty hair, your chest slowly rising and falling against his, and his body starts to grow heavy, exhaustion weighing him down and the comfort of your pussy keeping him warm.
He’s asleep before the golden light of the sun fades from the sky.
“Joshua, with everything we said, I have to ask… Have you changed your mind about kids?” You ask softly, your back to his chest and your body between his legs as you laze in the massive hotel bath together.
He presses his lips to your neck and thinks, only for a second, before responding, “No, I’m happy with our life. I don’t need anything but you.”
You let out a sigh of relief and turn in his arms, resting your cheek on his shoulder and tucking your legs up, your knees just barely out of the water. He scoops some up and pours it over you, not wanting you to get cold.
“Good, I feel the same way.”
“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair, kissing your crown and rubbing his hand up and down your back.
“I love you,” you whisper in return. “The breeding kink was hot though, let’s keep that?”
“Oh yeah, baby, for sure.”
AN: for @thatgirlfromwindsor and these anons 💖
Seventeen Masterlist
Main Masterlist
rockstar bf!joshua
pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, rockstar!joshua x non celebrity!reader, established relationship au
word count: 490
warnings: kisses, mentions of a dinner in passing, joshua is down bad
author note: this was requested by my dear amelia <3 i hope this is good 😭 to be honest i don’t really know if this still counts as rockstar!shua but…here you go! lots of love :D
masterlist
★ first of all: “are you guys ready to rock with us? because we’re ready to rock with you.” you can’t think rockstar joshua without that, let’s be real.
★ he dedicates songs to you whenever he can because you’re his muse and inspiration—the other guys would be sick of it if they weren’t the same way with their own partners.
★ of course, he has electric guitar solos in the band’s songs and is down so bad, he names his guitar after you so you’re always with him on stage in some way.
★ speaking of “being on stage” with him, he always has something you’ve gifted, whether it be a ring or a guitar pick, and kisses it with a wink in your direction before he performs—he says he does it to draw on your energy so he can do his very best.
★ if your relationship is private, he’s good at keeping it that way but even then, he makes sure he walks to your side of the stage as much as he can.
★ if you’re public, he’ll always blow kisses if he sees you, and all the fans around you swoon even if they know it’s directed to you (in fact, if you’re comfortable, many of them love to nudge you and wiggle their eyebrows as if you’re best friends)
★ even if you’re not loud at concerts, he’d always recognize your voice—and screams, since he’s heard enough of you squealing over his performances already.
★ loves to just fall down onto you after a post concert dinner with everyone, and only giggles when you groan because he knows you love him…even if you’re trapped under his limbs like every night.
★ whines “darling…” when you try to push him off, and suddenly you don’t have strength in your arms anymore and let him lay on you after he moves to kiss you on the cheek with a mischievous smile.
★ when he’s on tour, you join him when he’s in an area that you can go to! he doesn’t expect you to be there the whole time but you continue to make the effort to be in his hotel room (he always tells you where he is in a text message as soon as he arrives) when he comes back from rehearsals and the such.
★ when you can’t join him, he always tries to call you when possible, and leaves voice messages whining your name when you don’t pick up—you’re the only one he actually checks his messages for, and he loves to use that as leverage when teasing you.
★ “i can’t believe you didn’t pick up my call five minutes ago! you’re the only one i check my notifications for too…”
★ asks you how well he did out of ten after a performance if you were there and gives you as many kisses as your rating (you always say ten because it’s true…and maybe you want more kisses but who can blame you?)
aksjakjr Joshua is so cute but also such a menace who’s so hot and funny lol lovee this 💗💗
I Think He Knows
SUMMARY: You've been in love with Joshua for as long as you can remember, yet you've never been able to tell him. Fortunately or unfortunately, you're pretty sure that he already knows.
GENRE: smut, fluff
PAIRING: Joshua Hong x afab!reader
WC: 4.9k
SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie
SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan
18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
WARNINGS: uhhh, best friends to lovers, Hoshi being a snitch, p in v sex, brief oral (fem receiving), ddry humping, a bit of spanking, brat tamer!Joshua, brat!reader, tiny bit of angst if you really really squint, consent is IMPORTANT, tiny bit of alcohol, horrible flirting, multiple orgasms, idk this isn't my best work. It's also not edited so uh....good luck lol.
A/N: heyyyyyy 🥰. I'm not dead clearly, but my god has it been a minute. part of me is wondering if this series will ever be done but i'm doing my best. school sucks, work sucks, life is a bitch, and I burnt myself out. Anyway, thank you to Brie and Ally for betaing, much love kiss kiss. ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYY
Your heart pounds ferociously in your chest, butterflies tumbling through your stomach uncomfortably. You feel like a teenager again, sitting in front of Joshua who has a boyish grin on his face. One of his hands traces along the bottom of his champagne glass, the other resting on the table and playing with the cork of the expensive bottle. You wonder if he knows how he makes your head spin with just a little smile and a glass of champagne. The thought doesn’t linger for long, and you let your gaze lower back to the practically empty plate before you. A few roasted vegetables remain on the plate, and you pick at them with your fork to avoid looking at your friend.
Friends. That’s what you are. Nothing more, nothing less. As you always had been.
Friends that took each other out to expensive restaurants, bought expensive drinks and expensive meals. Friends that—
“Soonyoung told me something interesting today,” he leans forward, dipping his head down to try and catch your eye. You glance up at him, but the fluttering in your stomach returns and forces your eyes back down.
“Oh yeah?” You murmur, thanking god for the dim lighting around you.
“Mhm. He mentioned you, actually.”
Pause.
Kwon Soonyoung was the only person in the world who knew about your years-long crush on your best friend. If you could even call it a crush at this point. You’d admitted to yourself long ago that you were in love with him, admitted it to Soonyoung a few months back. You should’ve known better than to trust the mouthiest person in your friend group.
“Now I’m curious,” you lift your head again, steeling yourself against the onslaught of nausea at what your mutual friend could have said.
“He said,” Joshua shifts in his seat, running his tongue over his lower lip. “That you have feelings for me.”
Damn you Kwon Soonyoung.
You nod slowly, lowering your fork onto the ceramic plate in front of you. The pounding in your chest has returned, hitting so hard against your ribs that you fear your heart will pop out and land right on the table in front of Joshua.
“And…do you believe him?” You ask, failing to control the fear in your voice. Joshua smiles, and for a moment you let the fear wash away. Joshua Hong is the last person that you should feel afraid of. He was kind, he would never intentionally harm someone whether emotionally or physically, and he understood you better than most other people. You try to keep this in mind as you make eye contact.
“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t at least hope he was telling the truth.” Joshua sits up, lacing his hands together and resting his elbows on the table. A spark, and you find the corners of your lips lifting. “Otherwise, my plans for the evening are a bit…a bit ruined, I guess.”
“You had other plans?” The champagne burns against the back of your throat as you down the rest of your glass.
“Depends on how you respond to my question.” His eyes burn into yours and suddenly the table for two feels a lot smaller.
“What question is that?” I already know, and I know my answer.
“Are you,” Joshua slides his glass to the side, “in love with me.”
“Yes.” You respond without hesitation, ripping the band-aid off and shocking both of you. Never had you been this forward with Joshua. You were always somewhat reserved with…everything, really. Past relationships, struggling with a subject, a pet passing away. You never wanted to let Joshua in and it made his heart swell that you did now. “I’ve— I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”
Joshua sucks in a sharp breath of air, leaning back in his seat and smiling thoughtfully.
“I answered your questions,” you drum your painted nails on the table. “Now you get to answer mine.”
“Ask away.” Joshua waves his hand.
“What sort of plans did you have for us?”
The question was innocent— at least to you it was— but as you watch Joshua’s eyes darken with lust, you realize that the implications…may not have been as innocent as you had believed. You think he knows where your mind has derailed to, knows what thoughts have begun to plague you.
Joshua tips back his glass of champagne, and you watch him carefully. You allow yourself to admire the way his neck cranes, the way his jaw is hit by the light. He drains the golden liquid in two long sips, wiping away the excess that rested on his lips with a delicate swipe of his thumb.
“We’ll get to that,” he emphasizes the word, watching you tilt your head down and bite at your lip. “I have some other things I’d like to do before anything else.”
He flags down your waiter, calmly asking for the bill. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, disturbed by how the mild flirting had already gotten you worked up, but wait patiently for Joshua. You wouldn’t deny the fact that you were eager to see what he had in store for the two of you, what he’d planned on such short notice.
“You ready?” He taps the table with one finger, already beginning to stand.
“As I’ll ever be.” Your lips twist into a smile as he helps to pull out your chair, grabbing your jacket before you even had a chance to reach for it. “Aren’t you just a gentleman?”
“You should know by now that all I’m doing is the bare minimum.” He scolds, and you don’t pretend you don’t notice his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips.
“Best friends don’t pull out chairs for each other.” It’s a joke, both of you know it. You’re fully aware that after tonight, neither of you will ever be best friends again. Whether he asks you to stay with him or not, at the end of the night nothing will be the same. This doesn’t, however, stop Joshua from scoffing and tugging you by the waist to come closer to him. You stumble, nearly falling into his chest had his hands not been right there to catch you.
“I think you know,” his voice is a quiet rumble, “that we’re never going to be best friends again after this, Y/N. You’re mine now, and I don’t think I’ll ever let you go.”
You have to fight everything inside of you to not yank him down by that dark hair of his and kiss him in the middle of that crowded restaurant. Thankfully, it looks as if Joshua is fighting that same urge, one hand dropping down and the other sliding to the small of your back to guide you toward the door.
You’re mine now.
It’s a wonder that you make it to the car without jumping Joshua’s bones, but it seems you have more self-control than you’d given yourself credit for. The whole ride to…wherever it was that Joshua was taking you, you somehow managed to keep your hands in your lap, rubbing at your palm with your thumb. From the corner of your eye, you can see Joshua. He has one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the center console. He glances at you periodically, scanning your side profile.
“You’ve gotten quiet,” Joshua comments, drumming his fingers while you wait at a stoplight. Your eyes flick to his, and you purse your lips. “Are you…did I make you uncomfortable at all? Do— do you want me to bring you home?”
“No,” you tell him quickly, shaking your head. “No. I want to stay with you.”
The response soothes him, and he lets his hand drift to your thigh. He lets it hover over your exposed skin, waiting for you to push him away before he finally lets it rest on you. His hand is warm, his touch sending sparks through your body. You swallow hard, leaning back against the seat and staring at the road in front of you. Would it be wrong to tell him you want him to touch you more? To bring his hands just a bit higher, to—
Joshua’s hand squeezes a bit, drawing you back to reality. The light is green now and your body jerks as he presses on the gas. He lets his hand drift a bit higher, grazing underneath the fabric of your dress before stopping. Heat begins to pool in the pit of your stomach and you contemplate grabbing his hand and putting it right where you need it if he doesn’t move faster.
“You’re a menace.” You click your tongue and Joshua looks at you with a mocking pout.
“I didn’t do anything!”
He’s right. Technically he hadn’t done anything. You, however, were on the verge of doing something very…inappropriate if he didn’t knock it off.
“I’m sure you didn’t.” You let your hand fall to his, tracing the back of it with your pointer finger, and watch the veins pop as he squeezes for the third time. You’re approaching a very familiar street with some very familiar houses. “Are we…are we going back to my place?”
Joshua smirks. “Small change of plans.”
The giddiness inside of you returns, your head spinning as you think of all the things he could (and likely would) do to you. Your fingers lace through his, your heel-clad foot tapping against the floor protector in his car as he pulls into your driveway. He puts the car into park but leaves the engine running. For a few moments, neither of you says anything. The air between you is thick with tension, tension that grows when he tugs you toward him.
“Tell me now if you don’t want this.” Joshua breathes out, his lips mere centimeters from your own. If you tilt your head just a bit, you’ll be able to kiss him— something you’ve craved since the day you met him. “Tell me now and I’ll walk you to your door and say goodnight.”
“And if I do want this?” Your eyebrow arches, a playful look in your eyes. “What then, Joshua Hong?”
His eyes flutter, exhaling heavily as he tries to keep his composure.
“You’re going to be the death of me, I think.”
When Joshua kisses you, it isn’t as rough as you’d imagined. No, he’s gentle with you. His kiss ignites a fire inside of you, the flames swirling through your veins and heating your body until you fear you’re burning up. He cradles your jaw in one large hand as if you were glass and you would shatter if he held you too roughly. His lips move softly against your own, parting the slightest bit to catch your lower lip with his teeth. It’s a delicate dance, almost playful, and you couldn’t have asked for anything more. Your head tilts, allowing you to kiss him deeper, and a quiet groan leaves him. You smile a bit into the kiss, Your hand sliding up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer to you. Both of you ignore the fact that your body is halfway across the center console, your thigh resting on the seat between his legs keeping you propped up when his hands become distracted by the curves in your hips
The two of you only stop when you feel like you can’t breathe, your chest tight with the lack of air.
“You taste good,” Joshua murmurs, his nose nudging yours as he gazes at you with heavy eyes.
“You think so?” Your lips press against his jaw, and he smiles tightly.
“Mhm.”
“You should turn off the car and take me inside so you can find out what else tastes good.”
That must have been the right thing to say, because Joshua’s eyes darken in an instant and then he’s shutting the engine off, slamming his car door shut, and walking quickly over to your side. When he opens your door, you don’t wait for him to outstretch his hand before you practically spring to your feet, grabbing him by the sleeve and yanking him after you. He laughs as he stumbles along behind you, tugging his arm out of your grasp and squeezing at your waist over the fabric of your dress. Your hands are trembling, the heat in your stomach growing more intense by the minute.
“Struggling, pretty girl?”
His breath against your ear and his lips on your neck sends chills down your spine and you inhale sharply as his hand wraps around yours to help you guide the key into the lock. Your eyes are starting to flutter, your feet stumbling into the foyer of your home. Joshua presses you onward, one of his hands on the small of your back and the other flicking on the lights. You spin around to face him, your hands coming to his chest and curling around his tie to pull him down to kiss you again.
“At least let me get you upstairs,” he mumbles against your lips, grinning when you whine in protest.
“Can’t wait that long,” you deny, already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He grins, backing you through the doorway to your living room.
He stops your movements to spin you away from him. You face your window now, curtains drawn and the windows to your neighbor's house across the street staring right back at you. “All your neighbors will see us. Is that what you want?” He’s kissing down your neck, hands trailing to the back of your dress to undo the clasp.
“Let them see.” You hold your head high, hands clenching into fists as the fabric slides down your body and hits the ground with a soft thump, leaving your body completely bare except for a thin pair of lacey panties. “Let’s put on a show for them.”
“Interesting.” Joshua seems entirely unaffected by the statement, but the way he pulls you back against him to grind against the growing bulge in his pants is saying something entirely different. “Didn’t take you as someone to like being watched. I’ll have to explore that another time.”
You mean to respond, words forming at the tip of your tongue but never escaping your lips as Joshua pushes at your shoulder, slowly guiding you to the ground. Your knees fold beneath you, your eyes wide and filled with stars as he moves into your line of vision and then away from you. You watch as he lets the curtains fall and cover your windows, and then he turns back to face you and continues to unbutton his shirt, loosening his tie until it hangs loosely around his shoulders.
“What are you doing, Shua?” Your voice is weaker than you’d wanted it to be.
Joshua smiles coyly, leaning down until he’s at eye level with you. “I said that I would explore that at a later date, pretty girl. Not tonight. Tonight, you’re mine.”
“Yours?” Your hand rises to cup his cheek similarly to how he held yours just a few minutes ago.
“Mine.”
His knees hit the ground on either side of you, leaning over your body until you’re forced to lay back. Your legs stretch out to make his position a bit more comfortable, your knees rubbing together in anxious anticipation for what’s to come.
You expect him to kiss you, your lips starting to pucker and your eyes fluttering shut as he lowers his face to yours once again, but nothing happens. Your eyes open to find him mere inches from you with that same smirk playing on his lips.
“What are you smirking at?” You ask him, but he doesn’t answer. He shifts further down your body, laying a soft kiss on your collarbone that has your breath hitching briefly. Another kiss, this one closer to where your heart lays pounding underneath your ribs. Your hand twitches, aching to run through his hair, but the second you move to act on this urge he’s pinning your hand to the ground and glowering at you.
“No touching.” Joshua commands, mouthing at the soft flesh of your breast. “Not until I’ve tasted every last inch of your skin.”
He slips further down your body, leaving trails of soft kisses in his wake. The only sound in the house is the soft pop as his lips leave your skin and the heaviness of your breathing.
When Joshua reaches the hem of your panties, he stops and trails his finger along it. The brush of his skin on yours is so subtle, yet you’re addicted to the feeling of it. So many nights you had cum to the thought of him tugging your panties down your legs, his eyes boring into yours as he lowers his mouth to your glistening cunt, imagining how it would feel to have him licking and sucking nipping at your folds. So many nights, and yet nothing comes even close to how it really feels.
The second he runs his tongue from your hole to your clit, your back is arching off the ground and a loud gasp is echoing throughout your home. Your hands fly to Joshua’s hair despite his prior instructions, but he doesn’t seem to care as he drags his tongue and teeth across you. Your legs try to squeeze around his head, attempt to trap him against you, but he doesn’t let you. His large hands pry your legs away from him, squeezing harshly at your thighs and pinning them to the ground on either side of you.
He mumbles into your cunt with loud and drawn out sounds that reverberate through your body and have your legs jerking with pleasure.
“Shua,” you gasp out, your eyes rolling as he sucks particularly hard at your clit. “Shua, fuck.”
A loud smack rings out, and your thigh begins to sting. Your eyes widen, your head lifting off the ground at the same time that Joshua’s pulls away from you, his mouth dripping with your arousal.
“What the fuck—”
Another smack to the side of your thigh, and you yelp. Joshua raises an eyebrow.
“Want me to keep going?” You can’t tell if he’s insane or not. You can’t tell if you want to smack him or beg him for more. You don’t get the chance to retort before he’s smacking your thigh again, harder this time. “That wasn’t rhetorical, pretty girl.”
Your teeth grind together, and one of your feet comes to his shoulder to shove him back. Maybe he lets you push him back. Maybe he wants you to fight back. Maybe he was waiting for it, because when you lean your body over him, he’s grinning maliciously at you.
“Who do you think you are, smacking me like that?” You hiss, and he pouts.
“Like what? Like this?” His hand comes down again, this time directly on your ass and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body.
“Joshua Hong,” you snap, but there’s no real anger behind it as you begin to grind your lower body into his clothed cock. His hands come to rest on your waist, watching as you try to form words and pleasure yourself at the same time. “If you keep pulling shit—”
Smack
Your body shudders and an airy moan pushes out of your lips despite how you fight it. Joshua grins again.
“What were you saying, pretty girl? If I keep pulling shit…what? What are you going to do, baby?”
You can’t answer him, your hips rolling into his harder and faster as you approach your high.
“Oh, baby.” Joshua coos, his voice shockingly stable despite how you’re practically riding him over his pants, effectively ruining them with your juices. “You’re a little desperate, aren’t you?”
“Oh shut up,” you whine, folding forward until your mouth is right next to his ear. Your moans and whines are right in his ear now, intentional on your part, and his grip on your waist tightens. “Feels so good, Joshie.”
“Yeah?” He’s quieter now, a low growl in the back of his throat as he fights to keep his hips on the ground. Fights to let you have your little moment, your little bit of control over him. “How good, baby?”
“Gonna cum,” your lips find the skin beneath his ear, sucking a mark into his flesh as your hips begin to stutter. “F— god, Shua, please!”
“It’s okay, pretty girl,” Joshua coos, a bit of pride welling in his chest at how fast you learned. “You can let go. Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”
Almost as soon as he says those words, you’re letting out a loud, near pitiful moan and your body begins to shake over his. A wave of arousal soaks into his pants, seeping through and beginning to wet his boxers, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen is cumming for him, moaning his name and no one else’s.
Joshua can’t stop his hips from jerking into yours, pleasuring you even as your orgasm begins to ebb away. When he sits up, he cradles the back of your head in one hand, his eyes boring into yours in such a way that has you whining for him, clinging to his shoulders and turning away.
“So pretty when you cum,” Joshua murmurs, lifting the two of you up and giving you a second to wrap your arms and legs around him as he loops around your living room to the couch. “Gonna fuck you now, okay pretty girl?”
“Okay,” you nod, but your eyes aren’t focusing and neither is your mind. It feels like you’re on cloud 9, and Joshua hasn’t even taken his pants off yet.
He peers down at you, mild concern showing in his delicate features.
“Y/N,” his hands are caressing your sides gently, pulling you back down to focus on him. “You good?”
“I’m fine,” you promise, smiling lightly at him. “I just…it’s hard for me to actually, like, believe that you want me how I want you.”
Joshua smiles. “And how, exactly, do you want me?”
“Wholly. I want everything. I want all your love, all of your problems, every doubt, and every moment— good or bad.” His eyes soften as you speak, and for the first time that night he’s the one that’s gone quiet. “I want you carnally, I want you to crave my touch and my taste as much as I crave yours. Every kiss, every intimate moment. I want them all.”
“And you’ll have them.” Joshua promises, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s a deep, lingering kiss. His lips part against your own, your tongues dancing together but not dominating each other. Your hands cup his neck, holding him close to you, and in that moment you don’t hear the clinking of his belt or the sound of his zipper sliding down.
“You promise?” You pull away from him, your lungs burning from the lack of air. Joshua smiles at you, and his lips press against your forehead.
“I think you know the answer to that, pretty girl.”
And you do.
He would never have to say it, you always know. Joshua Hong, in all the years you’d been best friends, had never once told you something if he didn’t 100% believe it, if he wasn’t absolutely sure that he would or could hold himself to it. He didn’t have to promise you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. Soft eyes, pretty smile, that little wrinkle in his nose. You knew the answer.
“I’m gonna start pushing in now,” Joshua murmurs, aligning his cock with your entrance, shuddering at the seemingly never ending flow of arousal. “Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop.”
“Okay,” you nod, draping your arms over his shoulders and forcing your body to relax.
He pushes in slowly, but the stretch of him filling every little crevice inside of your cunt stings and causes you to let out a whimper.
“I know,” he whispers, “just take it all, baby. Take it all for me like a good girl.”
Your body shudders at that, and you let your head fall back onto the cushion below you. Inch by painful inch, he slides into you until your body begins to convulse and try to force him out.
“Baby,” Joshua grinds out between gritted teeth, “You gotta stop clenching like that.”
“I— I can’t.” You moan out, your back arching off the couch. “Hurts so good, Shua.”
“That so?” Joshua grunts and shoves the last few inches into you, relishing in the pretty little wail that escapes you. “That’s another thing I’ll have to make note of, huh?”
He doesn’t give you much time to respond before he’s hauling your legs up and around his waist, one hand gripping the arm of the couch and the other planted beside your head. A silver chain dangles above you, glittering in the low lighting of the living room but capturing your attention just long enough to tell Joshua to start moving.
“Can’t,” he tells you breathlessly. “Fuck, clenching so tight I can’t move.”
“I don’t care.” You whine. “Just fuck me, please Shua, please, please, please fuck me—”
He cuts you off with a sharp thrust of his hips, shoving his dick just that tiny bit further into you that has you gasping as the air is punched out of your chest.
“You’re lucky I love you.” He groans as he slowly pulls back, his dick practically drenched in your arousal, and then thrusts sharply back in, sheathing entirely inside of you. You cry loudly, a tear slipping down your cheeks and your legs tightening around his waist. Joshua repeats the action again and again, drinking in the way your head lolls to the side, your tongue practically hanging out of your mouth.
Then he begins to fuck you, just as you asked. He thrusts into you with hard, deep strokes that have you wailing and thrashing against the couch cushion. Your body is convulsing beneath him, and he can only watch like a god watching his worshippers, as you beg for him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper as if he isn’t already going hard and fast and deep to a point beyond your fucked out mind’s comprehension. The couch shifts slightly on the ground, scraping against your hardwood floor, but the sound is drowned out by the combined volume of your cries and moans and whimpers along with his grunts and little moans.
“Close,” he grunts, his head dropping to your chest to bite and suck at one of your tits. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
You clench around him in response, your back arching off the cushion to get closer to his mouth, relishing in the pleasure he’s providing you. “S—so good, Shua. Fuckin’ me so good.”
“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he stares down at you. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over your best friend?”
Your body shudders in response, and suddenly your vision goes white. You can faintly hear your own voice, your own pleads and screams of Joshua’s name as he pounds into you, forcing your juices out of you and giving you no time to recover from your orgasm before he’s shifting his hips and driving his cock into a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. Your hand clamps down over your mouth to muffle the animalistic sounds that pour out of you, but Joshua rips your hand away, pinning it down on the couch.
“Don’t you dare muffle a single sound that comes out of you,” he hisses. “Not a single one.”
You don’t have the strength, will, or energy to respond to him. Not as his cock begins to twitch inside of you and another orgasm threatens to wash over your body. One of Joshua’s hands, the one that had been pinning your hand to the couch, moves over your hip, and his eyes stay on you as his thumb begins to rub hard circles into your clit.
“Oh my—” your voice cracks. “Fuck, oh my god, Shua!”
“Cum for me,” he grunts, forcing his orgasm back so he doesn’t cum before you, despite you already having done so twice now. “Now, baby. God, please cum for me.”
And you do.
It crashes over you like a rockslide, rough and strong, and crushing everything in its path. Your cunt clenches around Joshua so tightly you fear you might break him, but he only moans out your name and begins to spill white-hot cum inside of you. The combined fluids from the both of you are forced out as Joshua continues to fuck into you, slowly now compared to before. Soft, deep thrusts that carefully bring you down from the edge until both of you have finished, laying spent on your now ruined couch.
“That…” your voice is raspy. “Is that how you’re gonna fuck me every night?”
“Is that how you want me to fuck you every night?” Joshua’s tongue laves over your skin, pressing gentle kisses against your neck.
You think he knows the answer, but you tell him anyway with a sly grin on your face.
“You promised.”
© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
this is soo good ! I love their love 💗💗
skin | joshua
Author: bratzkoo Pairing: university student! joshua x university student! reader Genre: angst, fluff Rating: PG-15 Word count: 7.3k Warnings/note: inspired by sabrina carpenter's skin and olivia rodrigo's driver's license. joshua hong is the loml. bit of a long read.
summary: you’re doing great with your boyfriend of 5 months but when his ex drops a podcast talking about their past relationship and indirectly mentions you, your relationship takes on challenges you don’t know if you can handle.
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): -
requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
You never expected to fall in love in college, let alone with someone like Hong Joshua. As one of the most popular students at your university, you were used to attention, but Joshua was different. He saw beyond your carefully curated image, past the smiles and the social ease, right to the core of who you were.
Your relationship started slowly, tentatively. Coffee dates that turned into long walks around campus, stolen glances during lectures, and late-night study sessions that had more to do with learning each other than any subject material. You remembered the first time you really noticed him, in your shared Literature class. He was sitting two rows ahead, his dark hair slightly tousled, completely engrossed in the professor's lecture on romantic poetry.
As you watched him scribble notes furiously, his brow furrowed in concentration, you felt a strange flutter in your chest. It wasn't just that he was handsome – though he undeniably was – but there was something about the intensity of his focus, the way he seemed to lose himself in the words, that drew you in.
After class, you found yourself lingering, pretending to organize your bag as you watched him from the corner of your eye. To your surprise, he approached you, a shy smile playing on his lips.
"Hey," he said, his voice softer than you expected. "I'm Joshua. I've seen you around campus, but I don't think we've officially met."
You introduced yourself, trying to ignore the way your heart raced as he shook your hand. His touch was warm, his grip firm but gentle.
"I was wondering," he continued, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice, "if you'd like to grab coffee sometime? I could use a study partner for the upcoming exam, and you always seem to have great insights in class."
You found yourself nodding before you even fully processed his words. "I'd love to," you replied, surprised by how steady your voice sounded despite the butterflies in your stomach.
That first coffee date turned into two, then three, then countless more. You discovered that Joshua was not just handsome and smart, but also kind, funny, and surprisingly vulnerable. He told you about his dreams of becoming a singer, how he'd spend hours practicing in the shower or humming melodies under his breath.
"My parents want me to have a 'practical' career," he confided one evening, as you sat together on a bench overlooking the campus lake. "But music... it's like breathing to me. I can't imagine my life without it."
You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Then don't give it up," you said softly. "You have an amazing voice, Joshua. The world deserves to hear it."
He looked at you then, his eyes shining with something that made your breath catch in your throat. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you replied, and the smile he gave you in return was brighter than any star in the sky.
Before you knew it, five months had passed, and you were head over heels. Joshua had become not just your boyfriend, but your best friend, your confidant, your rock. He was the first person you wanted to share good news with, the one you turned to when you were feeling down.
One particularly memorable evening, you and Joshua strolled across campus, your fingers intertwined. The air was crisp with the promise of autumn, and the setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink. You couldn't help but smile as you caught him humming softly under his breath – a habit you'd grown to adore over the past five months.
"What's that song?" you asked, nudging him playfully.
Joshua's cheeks flushed slightly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "Oh, just something I've been working on. It's not ready yet."
You squeezed his hand encouragingly, your heart swelling with affection. "I'm sure it's beautiful. You know I love hearing you sing."
His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and something deeper – a vulnerability that both thrilled and scared you. "Maybe I'll play it for you someday," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
As you approached the campus coffee shop, a group of girls whispered and giggled, their eyes fixed on Joshua. You were used to this by now – being with one of the most popular guys on campus came with its share of attention. But Joshua seemed oblivious, his focus solely on you.
Inside the coffee shop, as you waited for your orders, you noticed Joshua's gaze drift to a couple in the corner. A flicker of emotion – was it sadness? – crossed his face before he quickly looked away.
"Joshua?" you probed gently, concern creeping into your voice. "Is everything okay?"
He plastered on a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course. Just thinking about that assignment for Professor Kim's class."
You knew he was deflecting, but you didn't push. There was still so much about Joshua's past that remained a mystery to you. You'd learned early on that he was intensely private about certain aspects of his life, particularly his romantic history. Whenever you tried to broach the subject of past relationships, he'd change the topic or gently steer the conversation in a different direction.
You noticed that all the pictures on his social media only went back about a year, as if his life before that had been carefully erased. It was as though he was trying to start fresh, to reinvent himself. Part of you was curious, even a little worried about what he might be hiding. But another part of you trusted him implicitly, believing that if it was important, he'd tell you when he was ready.
"Don't worry about the past," he'd tell you whenever you hinted at wanting to know more, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're my present and my future."
And for a while, that was enough. The way Joshua looked at you, the way he held you, the way he seemed to anticipate your needs before you even voiced them – it all made you feel cherished, loved in a way you'd never experienced before. You told yourself that everyone had a past, and what mattered was the here and now.
But there were moments, fleeting and rare, when you'd catch a shadow pass over Joshua's face. A song on the radio would make him go quiet, or a certain scent would cause him to tense up momentarily. In those moments, you felt the weight of his unspoken history, and you couldn't help but wonder about the ghosts that still seemed to haunt him.
Despite these occasional moments of uncertainty, your relationship with Joshua continued to blossom. You fell into a comfortable rhythm, your lives intertwining in a way that felt both exciting and incredibly natural. Joshua became a fixture in your apartment, his textbooks mingling with yours on your desk, his hoodie draped over your chair.
Your friends teased you good-naturedly about how inseparable you'd become. "It's like you two are joined at the hip," your housemate Anna would say, rolling her eyes but smiling affectionately.
You couldn't deny it. Being with Joshua felt right in a way you couldn't quite explain. It was as if you'd found a piece of yourself you didn't even know was missing.
One night, as you lay tangled together on your bed, Joshua trailing lazy kisses along your collarbone, you felt an overwhelming surge of emotion.
"Joshua," you whispered, your voice thick with feeling.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense in the dim light. "Yeah?"
"I... I love you," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You'd never said it before, had been too scared of the vulnerability it implied. But in that moment, with Joshua's arms around you and his heartbeat steady against your chest, you couldn't hold it back any longer.
For a moment, Joshua went very still, and you felt a flicker of panic. Had you said it too soon? But then his face broke into the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I love you too," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "God, Y/N, I love you so much."
He kissed you then, pouring all his feelings into it, and you felt as though your heart might burst from happiness.
It was in moments like these that you forgot about the mysteries in Joshua's past, about the sadness that sometimes lingered in his eyes. All that mattered was the love you shared, the future you were building together.
But life, as you were about to learn, had a way of bringing the past crashing into the present when you least expected it.
-
It was an ordinary Friday when your world turned upside down. You were walking across campus, hand in hand with Joshua, discussing your plans for the weekend. The air was buzzing with the usual energy of students eager for the week to end, but something felt off. You noticed people staring more than usual, whispers following in your wake.
"Is it just me," you said to Joshua, trying to keep your voice light, "or are people acting weird today?"
Joshua frowned, his eyes scanning the faces around you. "Yeah, something's definitely up. But I have no idea what."
It wasn't until you got to class that you found out. Your best friend, Ela, pulled you aside before you could take your seat, her face a mask of concern.
"Have you heard the podcast?" she asked, her voice low and urgent.
You blinked, confused. "What podcast?"
Ela bit her lip, then pulled out her phone. "It's gone viral on campus. Everyone's talking about it. I... I think you need to hear this."
As she pressed play, a soft voice filled the air. "I thought he was my forever," the voice said, tinged with sadness. "He promised me the world, promised me eternity. But I guess forever has an expiration date."
Your heart sank as you listened, a cold dread settling in your stomach. The girl on the podcast never mentioned names, but the details were too specific to be coincidence. She talked about a boy who loved to sing, who had a smile that could melt hearts, who dreamed of becoming a performer.
She talked about Joshua. Your Joshua.
"And now he has a new girlfriend," the voice continued, a hint of bitterness creeping in. "She's everything I'm not. She’s popular, I saw her pictures and she’s so beautiful and she smiles pretty, and she has a lot of friends, and I bet she can parallel park. Everything I was always insecure about."
You felt like you couldn't breathe. This was Joshua's ex, laying bare all the pain and heartbreak for the world to hear. And in doing so, she'd inadvertently put a target on your back.
"Ela," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, "how many people have heard this?"
Your friend's expression was grim. "It's everywhere, Y/N. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok... people are reposting it like crazy."
You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. "Does... does Joshua know?"
"I don't think so," Ela replied. "At least, not yet. But Y/N... you need to talk to him. This is going to blow up, and fast."
You nodded, feeling numb. "I will. After class. I just... I need a moment to process this."
But as you sat through the lecture, you couldn't focus on a single word the professor said. Your mind was racing, replaying every moment with Joshua, every conversation, every tender look. Had it all been a lie? Was he still in love with his ex? And why hadn't he told you about her?
As soon as class ended, you rushed out, your heart pounding. You needed to find Joshua, to hear his side of the story. But as you stepped into the hallway, you were met with a sea of stares and whispers.
"That's her," you heard someone say. "The new girlfriend."
"I can't believe she'd do that to Yunha," another voice chimed in. "They were so perfect together."
You pushed through the crowd, fighting back tears. This couldn't be happening. It felt like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.
You found Joshua outside the music building, his face pale and drawn. When he saw you, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and fear.
"Y/N," he said, reaching for you. "I can explain-"
But before he could say another word, you felt your world tilt on its axis. The stress, the shock, and the emotional turmoil of the day caught up with you all at once. Your vision blurred, your legs gave out, and the last thing you heard was Joshua calling your name as darkness enveloped you.
When you woke up, you were in the campus infirmary, the harsh fluorescent lights making you squint. Joshua was by your side, holding your hand, his face etched with worry.
"Hey," he said softly as your eyes fluttered open. "How are you feeling?"
You tried to sit up, wincing at the throbbing in your head. "What happened?"
"You fainted," Joshua explained, helping you into a sitting position. "The nurse said it was probably due to stress and low blood sugar. You've been out for about an hour."
As the fog in your mind cleared, the events of the day came rushing back. The podcast, the whispers, the revelations about Joshua's past. You pulled your hand away from his, suddenly feeling like you were touching a stranger.
"Joshua," you said, your voice hoarse, "we need to talk about the podcast."
He closed his eyes, pain etched across his features. "I know. Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I should have told you about Yunha, about our history. I just... I thought if I could just start fresh, leave all that in the past, it wouldn't matter anymore."
You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "But it does matter, Joshua. It matters because now the whole campus thinks I'm some kind of homewrecker. It matters because you kept this huge part of your life from me. How am I supposed to trust you after this?"
Joshua reached for your hand again, and this time you let him take it. "I know I messed up," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But Y/N, you have to believe me when I say that what I feel for you is real. More real than anything I've ever felt before."
You wanted to believe him. God knows, how you wanted to believe him. But the doubt had taken root, and you couldn't shake the feeling that everything you thought you knew about your relationship had been built on a foundation of lies.
"I need time," you said finally, pulling your hand away. "To think, to process all of this. Can you... can you give me that?"
The look of hurt on Joshua's face made your heart ache, but you knew you needed space to sort out your feelings. He nodded, standing up slowly.
"Of course," he said softly. "Take all the time you need. Just... please don't shut me out completely. When you're ready to talk, I'll be here."
As he left the infirmary, you felt a piece of your heart go with him. But you also felt a resolve hardening within you. You needed answers, and you were determined to get them – no matter how painful they might be.
The next few weeks were a nightmare. Everywhere you went, you could feel eyes on you, hear the whispers behind your back. People you thought were friends suddenly became cold and distant. Your Instagram, once filled with supportive comments and likes, became a battleground of hate and accusations.
"Home wrecker," one comment read. "How does it feel to steal someone else's happiness?"
Another was even more vicious: "You don't deserve him. Yunha and Joshua were soulmates. You're just a pretty distraction."
You tried to brush it off, to hold your head high, but each comment felt like a dagger to your heart. Even worse was the way some of your so-called friends began to distance themselves, afraid of being associated with the scandal.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," your classmate Hoshi said awkwardly one day after class. "It's just... people are talking, you know? And my girlfriend thinks maybe we shouldn't hang out so much anymore."
You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral even as you felt another piece of your world crumbling. "It's fine, Hoshi. I understand."
But you didn't understand. Not really. How could people be so quick to judge, so eager to believe the worst about you without even knowing the full story?
You threw yourself into your studies, spending long hours in the library, trying to drown out the whispers and stares with the comforting rustle of pages and the scratch of your pen. But even in the quiet sanctuary of the stacks, you couldn't escape the weight of judgment that seemed to follow you everywhere.
One evening, as you were poring over your textbooks, you felt a presence beside you. Looking up, you saw Anna, your roommate, hovering uncertainly.
"Hey," she said softly, sliding into the chair across from you. "I've been worried about you. You've barely been in the room lately."
You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just been busy with studying."
Anna reached out, gently closing your book. "Y/N, talk to me. Please. I know things have been rough, but I'm still your friend. I want to help."
Something in her tone, the genuine concern in her eyes, made the walls you'd built up over the past weeks crumble. Before you knew it, you were sobbing quietly, your shoulders shaking as Anna moved to wrap her arms around you.
"I don't know what to do," you whispered between sobs. "Everything's such a mess. I love Joshua, I really do, but how can I trust him after this? And everyone on campus hates me for something I didn't even do."
Anna stroked your hair soothingly. "Not everyone hates you, Y/N. The people who matter know you're not the person they're making you out to be. And as for Joshua... have you talked to him since that day?"
You shook your head. "I've been avoiding him. I just... I don't know what to say."
"Maybe it's time you did," Anna suggested gently. "You can't run from this forever. And who knows? Maybe hearing his side of the story will help you make sense of things."
You knew she was right, but the thought of facing Joshua, of reopening the wounds that were just starting to scab over, made your stomach churn with anxiety.
"I'll think about it," you promised, wiping your eyes. "Thanks, Anna. For being here, for not judging me."
She squeezed your hand. "That's what friends are for. And Y/N? Remember, this will pass. It might not feel like it now, but it will. You're stronger than you think."
Her words stayed with you as you packed up your books and made your way back to your apartment. The campus was quiet, most students already settled in for the night. As you walked, you found yourself thinking about Joshua, wondering what he was doing, if he was struggling as much as you were.
Almost without realizing it, your feet had carried you to his dorm building. You stood there for a long moment, debating whether to go in or turn back. Finally, taking a deep breath, you made your decision.
The walk to Joshua's room felt both endless and far too short. Before you were ready, you found yourself standing in front of his door, your heart pounding. You raised your hand to knock, then hesitated. What if he wasn't alone? What if he didn't want to see you?
But before you could talk yourself out of it, the door swung open. Joshua stood there, looking as surprised to see you as you were to suddenly be face-to-face with him. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, his hair messy as if he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly.
"Y/N," he breathed, his eyes wide. "I... what are you doing here?"
You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I think... I think it's time we talked."
Joshua nodded, stepping back to let you in. His room was a mess, clothes strewn about, empty coffee cups littering his desk. It was so unlike the usually tidy Joshua that it made your heart ache.
"Sorry about the mess," he said, hurriedly clearing some books off his bed so you could sit. "I haven't been... I mean, things have been..."
"Rough?" you supplied, and he nodded, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.
"Yeah. Rough."
You sat on the edge of his bed, and he took the chair at his desk, leaving a careful distance between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with all the things left unsaid.
Finally, you took a deep breath. "Joshua, I need to know the truth. All of it. About Yunha, about your relationship, about why you never told me."
Joshua ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained. "I know I owe you an explanation. I just... I don't know where to start."
"The beginning," you said softly. "Start at the beginning."
And so he did. He told you about meeting Yunha in high school, how they'd bonded over their shared love of music. How their relationship had started as a friendship and slowly blossomed into something more.
"She was my first love," Joshua admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I really thought we'd be together forever. We had all these plans, you know? We were going to go to the same college, pursue our dreams together."
"What changed?" you asked, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy you felt at the obvious affection in his voice when he spoke of Yunha.
Joshua's expression darkened. "Life changed. I got accepted here on a music scholarship, but Yunha... she didn't get in. We tried long-distance for a while, but it was hard. We were both changing, growing in different directions. And then..."
He trailed off, looking away. You waited, your heart pounding.
"And then?" you prompted gently.
Joshua took a shaky breath. "And then I met you. And everything changed again. I didn't mean for it to happen, Y/N. I wasn't looking to fall in love. But being with you... it felt right in a way nothing ever had before. It scared me how quickly and deeply I fell for you."
You felt tears pricking at your eyes. "So what happened with Yunha?"
"I broke up with her," Joshua said, his voice heavy with regret. "Over the phone. God, I was such a coward. I told her I couldn't do the long-distance thing anymore, that we were growing apart. But the truth is, I was already falling for you, even if I hadn't admitted it to myself yet."
The pieces were starting to fall into place, but there was still one thing you didn't understand. "Why didn't you tell me about her, Joshua? Why keep it a secret?"
He looked at you then, his eyes filled with a mixture of shame and pleading. "Because I was afraid. Afraid that if you knew about Yunha, about how badly I'd hurt her, you wouldn't want to be with me. I thought if I could just start fresh, be the person I wanted to be with you, maybe I could leave all that guilt and pain behind."
You sat there, processing everything he'd said. Part of you understood his fear, his desire to start anew. But another part of you was hurt that he hadn't trusted you enough to be honest from the beginning.
"Joshua," you said finally, "I appreciate you telling me all this. But... it doesn't change the fact that you lied to me. By omission, maybe, but still. How can I trust you after this?"
He leaned forward, his eyes intense. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I should have been honest from the start. But please believe me when I say that everything between us has been real. My feelings for you, they're more real than anything I've ever felt."
You wanted to believe him. God, how you wanted to. But the doubt that had taken root was hard to shake.
"I need time," you said, standing up. "To think, to process all of this. Can you... can you give me that?"
Joshua nodded, his expression a mixture of hope and resignation. "Of course. Take all the time you need. Just... please don't give up on us, Y/N. I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."
As you left his room, you felt a strange mixture of emotions. Relief at finally knowing the truth, pain at the realization of how much hurt your relationship had caused, and a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you and Joshua could find a way through this.
But even as you tried to sort through your feelings, you knew that the hardest part was yet to come. The campus was still buzzing with gossip, and you were still at the center of it all. How could you and Joshua ever move forward when the whole world seemed determined to tear you apart?
The next day, as you walked to class, you could feel the weight of stares on you. But something had changed. Maybe it was the conversation with Joshua, or maybe it was just that you'd reached your breaking point, but suddenly, you were tired of being the victim.
You straightened your shoulders, held your head high, and met the stares head-on. You were not the villain in this story, and you were done letting others make you feel like one.
In your Literature class, you found yourself sitting next to a girl named Soo-yun, someone you'd never really talked to before. To your surprise, she turned to you with a small smile.
"Hey," she said softly. "I just wanted to say... I think it's really brave, how you're handling all of this. I can't imagine how hard it must be."
Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. "I... thank you," you finally managed. "It means a lot to hear that."
Soo-yun nodded. "I know we don't really know each other, but if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with at lunch so you're not alone, I'm here."
You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by this unexpected kindness. "I might take you up on that," you said, offering a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in weeks.
As the days passed, you found small pockets of support like this. Not everyone believed the rumors, and those who took the time to get to know you often found that the reality was far different from the gossip.
But even as things began to improve slightly on campus, you still struggled with your feelings for Joshua. You missed him desperately, but the hurt and betrayal still stung. You found yourself replaying your conversations, analyzing every interaction, trying to separate the truth from the lies.
One afternoon, as you sat in the campus coffee shop, lost in thought, a familiar voice broke through your reverie.
"Is this seat taken?"
You looked up to see Joshua standing there, two cups of coffee in hand, his expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
For a moment, you hesitated. But then you gestured to the empty chair across from you. "It's all yours."
Joshua sat down, sliding one of the coffees towards you. "I got your usual," he said softly. "I hope that's okay."
You nodded, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. "Thanks."
For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a chasm. Finally, Joshua took a deep breath.
"Y/N, I've been doing a lot of thinking," he began. "About us, about everything that's happened. And I realized something. I've been so focused on trying to escape my past, on being the person I thought you wanted me to be, that I lost sight of who I really am."
You looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. "What do you mean?"
Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you'd come to recognize as a sign of his nervousness. "I mean that I've been trying so hard to be perfect for you that I forgot that it was my imperfections, my past, all of it, that made me who I am. And who I am is someone who loves you, completely and utterly. Not because you're perfect, but because you're you."
You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, but you forced yourself to stay calm. "Joshua, I appreciate what you're saying, but-"
He held up a hand, cutting you off gently. "Please, let me finish. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and Yunha, and probably a lot of other people along the way. But I'm done running from my mistakes. I want to own them, learn from them, and hopefully, if you'll let me, make things right."
You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity. But all you saw was raw, honest emotion.
"What are you saying, Joshua?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He reached across the table, his hand hovering near yours, not quite touching. "I'm saying that I love you, Y/N. All of you. And I want you to know all of me. The good, the bad, the parts I'm proud of and the parts I'm not. If you'll give me another chance, I promise to be completely honest with you, always."
You felt tears pricking at your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. Slowly, you reached out, closing the distance between your hands.
"I can't promise it'll be easy," you said softly. "There's a lot of trust to rebuild."
Joshua nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes. For as long as it takes."
As you sat there, your hands intertwined, you felt a glimmer of hope. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you and Joshua could find your way back to each other.
In the weeks that followed, you and Joshua took small, tentative steps towards rebuilding your relationship. You started with coffee dates, just like in the beginning, relearning each other and having the honest conversations you should have had from the start.
Joshua opened up about his past, sharing stories about his relationship with Yunha, his struggles with self-doubt, and his fears about the future. You, in turn, shared your own insecurities and the pain you'd experienced during the podcast fallout.
It wasn't always easy. There were moments of tension, of old hurts resurfacing. But there were also moments of laughter, of rediscovering the connection that had drawn you together in the first place.
Slowly but surely, the storm began to pass. People found new gossip to occupy themselves with, and the hateful comments began to taper off. You never heard directly from Yunha, but the original podcast was taken down, and you liked to think that maybe, just maybe, she had found her own path to healing.
A year after the podcast incident, you and Joshua sat on the roof of your dorm, watching the sunset. Your hands were intertwined, your head resting on his shoulder. The campus sprawled out below you, peaceful in the fading light.
"Do you ever regret it?" you asked softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "Getting involved with me, going through all of that?"
Joshua was quiet for a moment, then turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a love so deep it took your breath away.
"Never," he said firmly, squeezing your hand. "What we went through... it was hard, yeah. But it made us stronger. It showed me that what we have is real, that it can withstand anything."
You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "I feel the same way," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've come so far, haven't we?"
Joshua smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "We have. And we still have so far to go. But Y/N, I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul. Whatever comes our way, we'll face it together."
You snuggled closer to him, feeling safe and loved in a way you'd never experienced before. "I like the sound of that," you murmured. "Together."
As you sat there, watching the last rays of sunlight paint the sky in vibrant hues, you reflected on the journey that had brought you to this moment. The pain, the growth, the love that had weathered the storm and come out stronger on the other side.
You might not have a ring on your finger, might not have all the answers about what the future held. But you had something far more valuable – a love that had been tested by fire and emerged stronger for it. A love built on honesty, on acceptance of each other's flaws and imperfections.
The future stretched out before you, full of possibilities and challenges. But with Joshua by your side, you felt ready to take on whatever life might throw your way, one day at a time.
As the first stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Joshua began to hum softly, a melody you hadn't heard before. You closed your eyes, letting the gentle tune wash over you.
"Is that a new song?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.
Joshua nodded, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I've been working on it for a while now. It's... well, it's about us. About everything we've been through."
Your heart swelled with emotion. "Can I hear it? The whole thing, I mean."
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, but remember it's still a work in progress."
Clearing his throat, Joshua began to sing softly, his voice carrying on the gentle evening breeze.
As the last note faded away, you found yourself wiping tears from your eyes. The raw emotion in Joshua's voice, the honesty of the lyrics – it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
"Joshua," you breathed, "that was beautiful. I can't believe you wrote that for us."
He ducked his head, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "I wanted to capture everything we've been through, everything we mean to each other. I know it's not perfect-"
You cut him off with a kiss, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless.
"It's perfect because it's us," you said softly. "Thank you for sharing it with me."
Joshua pulled you closer, and you settled back against him, both of you content to watch as the sky darkened and more stars appeared.
"You know," Joshua said after a while, his voice thoughtful, "a year ago, I never would have had the courage to share an unfinished song like that. I was so caught up in trying to be perfect, in hiding the messy parts of myself."
You nodded, understanding. "And now?"
He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Now I know that it's okay to be a work in progress. That the people who truly love you will accept all of you, rough edges and all."
His words resonated deeply with you. Over the past year, you'd both learned so much about vulnerability, about the strength that comes from being truly seen and accepted.
"Speaking of works in progress," you said, sitting up to look at him, "have you given any more thought to what you want to do after graduation? It's coming up faster than we think."
Joshua's expression turned serious. "I have, actually. I've been thinking about it a lot lately."
You waited, giving him space to gather his thoughts.
"I want to pursue music," he said finally, his voice firm with resolve. "Not just as a hobby, but as a career. I know it won't be easy, and my parents probably won't be thrilled, but... it's what I love. It's who I am."
Pride swelled in your chest. You knew how much courage it took for Joshua to choose this path, to prioritize his passion over the safer, more conventional career his parents had always envisioned for him.
"I'm so proud of you," you said, squeezing his hand. "And I'll be right there supporting you every step of the way."
Joshua's eyes shone with gratitude. "What about you? Have you decided on grad school?"
You nodded, excitement bubbling up inside you. "I got the acceptance letter yesterday. I was waiting for the right moment to tell you."
"Y/N, that's amazing!" Joshua exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you could do it. You're going to be an incredible psychologist."
As you hugged him back, you felt a sense of rightness settle over you. This was what love was supposed to be – supporting each other's dreams, celebrating each other's successes.
"You know," you said as you pulled back, "we should probably start thinking about where we're going to live after graduation. With you pursuing music and me starting grad school, we might need to look into getting an apartment together."
The words were out before you fully realized the weight of what you were suggesting. Living together was a big step, one you hadn't really discussed before.
Joshua's eyes widened slightly, but then a slow smile spread across his face. "Are you asking me to move in with you, Y/N?"
You felt a blush creeping up your neck, but you held his gaze. "I guess I am. What do you think?"
He pretended to consider it for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, let me think. Waking up next to you every morning, making breakfast together, having a space that's truly ours... Yeah, I think I could get on board with that."
You laughed, swatting his arm playfully. "Is that a yes, then?"
Joshua's expression softened, becoming serious again. "It's absolutely a yes. I love you, Y/N, and nothing would make me happier than building a life with you."
As you sealed the decision with a kiss, you felt a sense of excitement for the future bubbling up inside you. You knew there would be challenges ahead – the stress of grad school, the uncertainty of Joshua's music career, the everyday trials of living together for the first time. But you also knew that together, you could handle anything life threw your way.
The next few months were a whirlwind of activity. Between finishing up your final semester, apartment hunting, and preparing for the next chapter of your lives, you and Joshua barely had a moment to breathe. But through it all, your relationship continued to grow stronger.
You found a small apartment not far from campus, cozy and full of character. The day you moved in, surrounded by boxes and the chaos of merging two lives into one space, you couldn't stop smiling. This was the beginning of something new, something uniquely yours and Joshua's.
As you unpacked, you came across a familiar box – the one where you'd stored all the mementos from your relationship. Concert tickets, dried flowers, handwritten notes. But there was something new tucked inside, something you didn't recognize.
"Joshua?" you called out, holding up a small, beautifully bound notebook. "What's this?"
He came into the room, a soft smile playing on his lips when he saw what you were holding. "Ah, I was wondering when you'd find that. It's for you – well, for us, really."
You opened the notebook, your breath catching as you realized what it was. On the first page, in Joshua's neat handwriting, were the words: "Our Story: Past, Present, and Future."
"I thought we could use it to write down our memories, our dreams for the future," Joshua explained, coming to sit beside you. "And maybe, someday, we can look back on it and see how far we've come."
Tears pricked at your eyes as you flipped through the pages. Some were already filled – recollections of your first date, the lyrics to the song Joshua had written for you, little sketches of moments you'd shared. But most of the pages were blank, waiting to be filled with the story of your life together.
"Joshua, this is..." you trailed off, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift.
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I know we've been through a lot, and there were times when I was afraid to confront the past. But now, I want to embrace all of it – the good and the bad. Because it all led us here, to this moment."
You leaned into him, feeling a profound sense of peace. "I love you," you said simply, because in that moment, those three words encompassed everything you felt.
"I love you too," Joshua replied, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Now, what do you say we write our first entry as official roommates?"
Laughing, you grabbed a pen and snuggled closer to Joshua. As you began to write, describing the chaos and joy of move-in day, you felt a sense of excitement for all the blank pages ahead – pages waiting to be filled with your shared story.
The coming years would bring their own challenges and triumphs. There would be late nights of studying for you and long hours in the recording studio for Joshua. There would be arguments over dirty dishes and whose turn it was to do laundry. There would be moments of doubt, of wondering if you were on the right path.
But there would also be quiet mornings spent cuddling in bed, lazy Sundays exploring your new neighborhood, and the thrill of celebrating each other's achievements. There would be the day Joshua landed his first real gig, and the night you aced your first major presentation in grad school. There would be family dinners, game nights with friends, and impromptu dance parties in your tiny living room.
Through it all, that notebook would be there, slowly filling with the story of your life together. A tangible reminder of the love you'd built, the challenges you'd overcome, and the future you were creating together.
As you closed the notebook that first night in your new apartment, you looked at Joshua and saw your whole world reflected in his eyes. You didn't know exactly what the future held, but you knew one thing for certain – whatever came your way, you'd face it together, writing your story one day at a time.
After all, your love wasn't just skin deep. It was woven into the very fabric of who you were, a bond that had been tested and strengthened by every challenge you'd faced. It was the skin you were in, the air you breathed, the truth you believed in.
And as you fell asleep that night, wrapped in each other's arms in your new home, you knew that this was just the beginning of your forever. A forever that you would define together, day by day, moment by moment, love by love.
Ayooo this is so good !! The way you’ve written Joshua is so cool love that he’s funny, hot and amazing ! 💗💗
— choking hazard | h.js
⋆ pairings; joshua x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, fluff, humor, friends to lovers (?) ⋆ w.c; 3.7k+ ⋆ warnings; intoxication (liquor), mention of walking in on chan, josh is lovingly annoying, big dick! josh, tipsy sex, oral (m. receiving), face-fucking, unprotected sex (she's on pills), reader can be picked up, rough sex, creampie ⋆ a/n; im thankful for @nonuify, @chwepen, @okiedokrie and @whipped-for-kpop-fics for collectively losing it with me while talking about big dick! josh. without them, this wouldn't have been posted lol. xoxo, enjoy <3
“i don't believe a single shit that you just spewed.”
you scoff at your close friend seated on the camping chair adjacent to yours.
“hey, i'm just saying the truth.” Joshua defends himself with a shrug. his smile looks almost angelic under the glistening cascades of moonlight and the dying campfire.
almost is the key word. because there's a glint of something else lurking underneath his dilated pupils. he takes a sip from the canned beer, and a few drops trickle down his chin. he wipes it off with his sleeve.
“your dick is a choking hazard? and a girl you slept with, told her friends that?”
“yep, that's right.” he hides his smirk behind the beer can. it seems that the liquor in your system is doing tricks on you as you watch his eyes dip down to the exposed skin of your collarbones.
you can’t help but laugh at his affirmation. your cheeks puff up, and your eyes crinkle as you do so. Joshua loves your laughter, and it makes him laugh as well. but he can only tongue his cheek now, watching you keel over with laughter.
“i’m sorry, Josh. that’s the most out-of-pocket shit someone could say.” you take a breather and try to calm down. “how did we land on the topic of cock, again?”
it’s almost midnight. most of your friends have fallen asleep or are in their tents, scrolling through their phones. which leaves you and Joshua outside, watching the fire trickle down to embers and drinking the last cans of beer till you both pass out.
but somehow, the conversation has changed lanes to your friend’s diabolical cock size.
“because you told me that you walked in on Chan jerking off and didn’t expect him to be ‘oh so huge!’” he mimics your voice, and you slap his shoulder while he laughs.
“well, i still don’t believe you. so,” you blow a raspberry at him and turn away to look at the sky. you are barely tipsy but feel light-headed because of the long hike and how spent your body is. the last thing you want on your mind is Joshua’s cock.
but it’s safe to say that you’re intrigued.
“you don’t have to,” his voice echoes with a strum of his guitar. he must’ve picked it up again. but you don’t look at him. especially not with the way you’re all hot and bothered right now.
“you just have to see it.” you choke on your saliva and make the mistake of turning your head. he has shifted closer to you, his hair tickles your cheeks, and you see his eyes trained on your lips.
“calm down, player.” you huff and back off. but it’s you who needs to calm down. joshua appears very calm and collected with his sweet smile and shit. but you’re not buying any of that.
“player?” his voice raises a pitch before he chuckles with a husky timbre. and his low voice sends shivers down your spine straight to your core. you tighten your thighs and wish that he doesn't notice it.
“hey, it's not my fault people mistake my kindness for something more.”
“kindness? oh forgive me for not knowing that making out with every girl is an act of kindness.”
“you sound like you’re jealous.”
he whispers into your ear. and you notice his closeness only now. his knee presses into yours as he manspreads, and he leans into your frame. the smell of beer and his signature scent hits your nose, forcing you to take a deep breath of fresh air.
in your moment of silence, Joshua confirms his answer. “so you are jealous.”
you don’t answer and shift in your chair, trying not to cast your gaze on his thighs. or, more specifically, his cock. which you’re pretty sure would be visible against the tightness of his pants.
“uhh, i’m going to hit the bed. you should too.” that’s all you offer while walking away as fast as possible.
the path to your cabin is short, and you sigh, feeling stupid. obviously, he’s just playing. you’d have a hard time listing the girls he has not kissed because of the lack of them. maybe dares don’t count, but it’s still a blasphemous amount.
entering the cabin, you immediately take off your counselor shirt and toss it on your bed. you go through your bag, trying to find a sweatshirt you could wear.
“woah, no bra?”
you yelp in surprise and cover yourself with your hands. you don’t need to turn around to figure out who that is.
“joshua, can you not fucking knock?!”
“calm down, this is my cabin too.”
your heart palpitates when he closes the door and walks towards his bed, which is adjacent to yours. you scramble to wear any piece of cloth you can find and lie down on your bed as soon as possible.
you don’t hear a single sound from his side, so you turn in the bed to look at him. which adds to your fluster as you find him already looking at you. he doesn’t utter a word, continuing to look at you. you hold eye contact, mesmerized by the deep brown of his eyes.
“what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
“just curious,” he shakes his head, eyes still gazing deep into yours.
“about?”
“how you’d look, trying to take my cock in.”
your mouth runs dry and you lick your lips, still not breaking eye contact. a fuzzy warm feeling pools in your stomach and your hard nipples graze against the material of your shirt. you sit up, done with this game of push and pull.
he follows suit, watching you walk towards him. you offer him no words and kneel on the floor while looking up at him. joshua sucks in a sharp breath, trying to contain himself. his finger grazes against your cheekbones, softly pushing back stray hairs.
he groans when you press your palm against his boner. he leans back, observing you with a lazy smile. you try not to vocalize your surprise when you confirm that Joshua is not lying. the sheer outline of his cock intimidates you. your nails dig into his thighs, and he snickers at you.
“scared, honey?” his voice is saccharine, and he looks at you with such adoration. but you know, behind that sweet mask lies something better left undisturbed.
and you’re treading on the very line that will disturb it. but it doesn’t scare you. it excites you. somehow, the thought of Joshua breaking his demeanor fills your veins with adrenaline.
more excited than scared. the response lies on the tip of your tongue, and you want to say it. the little liquor in your system gives you a confidence boost. you hook your finger under the waistband of his briefs and pull it down with one smooth pull.
his cock springs free, and you’re rendered speechless for a second. Joshua’s cock is long and girthy. his pretty pink tip oozes with pearls of precum, and he’s well-groomed. you never thought you’d describe a dick as pretty, but here you are.
you finally find the courage to wrap your hand around his length. you bite your lip, squeezing his cock that lays heavy on your hand. he shudders and sighs at your touch. you lean forward and lick the precum off his tip.
“fuck,” he curses, carding his hand through his hair. he sounds so hot, and it makes you envy all the girls he’s slept with before.
you’re still hesitant to wrap your lips around his cock, and he senses it. “want some help?” he offers, and you impatiently nod.
he chuckles, standing on his feet. you wait patiently on your knees, watching him discard his shirt.
“you think too much, you know?”
before you can ask him what he means, he slaps his cock on your cheek. any and every thought evaporates from your brain, and you can only focus on how good it feels.
you don't say anything but stare up at him with glassy eyes and an open mouth. he laughs, and a devilish tint lurks behind his irises.
“like getting slapped by my cock?” his other hand holds your nape, and you nod eagerly. you lift your hands to rest them on his thighs and close your eyes.
he tugs your hair, forcing you to look at him. “look at me.”
he slaps his cock on your face again. and again, and again. and again till you're absolutely cock drunk, begging to have him down your throat. he slaps his cock one last time on your face. you whine, digging your nails into his thighs.
he chuckles again, cooing at you. “open your mouth.”
you obey, letting your mouth hang open for him. he teases the tip of his oozing cock by rubbing it on your lower lip. you push out your tongue, causing him to chuckle. he taps his cock on your tongue before pushing the tip in.
you hum in content and suck on his tip, swirling your tongue around it. you tease his slit, tracing it with your tongue. joshua bites his lip, and his eyebrows knit in pleasure.
“fuck,” he groans, a sound that fills your heart with pride.
“gonna go a bit deeper, yeah?” you hum around his cock, and he curses.
he pushes your head down his cock, gently. you open your mouth to accommodate him, but the ache in your jaw stops you. you make a noise, stopping him. he does, waiting for you to adjust to his girth.
his fingers caress the side of your face and your nape, causing you to shiver when he brushes a sensitive spot on your neck. his other hand gently holds back your hair. you look at him, nodding your head.
you feel the ache in your jaw lessen when he pulls out, leaving only the tip in. it's soon taken away as he fills your mouth again. he continues so at a mild pace.
you swirl your tongue around his cock, and suck in your cheeks as much as you can. he goes a bit deeper, and you gag, tears pricking your eyes. he moans shamelessly, his movements a bit lazier now.
he pulls out again, and you gasp for breath. a string of saliva connects your lips to his tip. he slaps his cock on your lip, enjoying the wet feeling and sound. it sends a shiver of pleasure to your core as well, which is now soaking.
your panties stick to your core like a second skin. you're afraid that your arousal would drip down your leg. your cunt clenches around nothing and your hard nipples graze against your shirt. the thought of him fucking you fills you with ecstasy.
with your newfound enthusiasm, you move forward, taking his tip between your lips. you maintain eye contact as you do so. you bob your head up and down, gagging at times as you do so. your nails graze the back of his thighs in a pleasurable manner.
“oh god,” he stops your movements, taking a deep breath to compose himself. his abs strain and a few veins pop up at his neck.
“just—just tap my thighs thrice if it's too much, ok?” you blink and nod at him. you relax your jaw and wait for him.
even though you prepare yourself, it still takes you by surprise. he pushes his cock inside in one go and holds your head. you gag and choke, feeling tears stream down your face and drool down your chin.
his hand grips the back of your head, and you feel him twitch in your mouth. your nose brushes against his pelvis and your lips touch the base of his cock.
he feels heavy in your mouth, and you choke on him again, more tears falling from your eyes. he pulls out with ease, and you cough and breathe as much as you can.
you look like an absolute mess right now, a heavenly mess, Joshua thinks. with tears and drool coating your face, your lips swollen, and god, the fucking way you're looking at him.
“think i'm a choking hazard, yet?”
you laugh, but it's cut off when your throat hurts. he giggles and apologizes sheepishly.
“so? should i cum inside your mouth, or?” he teases.
“fuck me, please.”
he curses under his breath, pulling you up to crash his lips against yours. you fall on his bed with him hovering over you. his lips are gentle at first, but the kiss turns deep. his tongue glides over yours, and he kisses you deeply. the ache between your legs grows as you feel his tongue slide over the places his cock was touching a few seconds ago.
his hand wraps around your neck gently, and he squeezes the side occasionally. he pulls away, gasping for air. his chest is pressed to yours, and you feel his heart hammering the way yours does.
his cock grazes against the skin of your thighs, heightening your arousal. “joshua, please fuck me, already.” you whine, nails scratching his back.
“so impatient,” he smiles, kissing your forehead.
he helps remove your shirt and groans at the sight of your hardened nipples. his hands fly to your chest to fondle and squeeze your breasts. he rolls the bud between his fingers and flicks them gently.
he glides his hand down your waist till he finds the hem of your shorts and pulls it down. you relax on his bed with a sigh. it feels so erotic to spread your legs in front of someone you deem a good friend. not to mention that you were choking on said friend's cock a few minutes ago.
you don't miss the smirk that plays on his lips as he observes your stained panties. and it makes you shy, causing you to close your legs, but he stops you. his hands resting on your inner thigh to spread your legs out.
he slowly removes the only clothing left on your body. the arousal sticks to your panty as he peels it off you. he tosses the cloth away and massages your inner thighs, slowly working up his way to your folds.
his fingers prod between your folds, rubbing them up and down and feeling the wetness of your soaking cunt. his thumb brushes your clit, and you fold your legs, bringing them closer to your chest.
he circles your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. he leans down to kiss your cunt, and lick the arousal dripping down it.
“not now,” you push his head away, way too eager to take his cock. he kisses your folds before finally pulling away. he looks up at you, smiling softly, but you don’t miss the mischief swirling in his eyes. he kisses your lips again, hands wandering down your body.
his cock presses on your thighs, and you whimper, almost begging for him. “we don’t have condoms, though. is that fine?”
“yes, i’m on pills.” you say in a nasal tone, your own hands discovering his body.
“and as long as you don’t have any virus, i’m fine.” you finish, looking at him dead in the eye. he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “i kiss, ok? i don’t get dirty as often.”
“if you say so,” you sing, pulling him closer and pressing your chest to his.
“fuck.” he whispers, slotting his lips on yours.
he breaks the kiss and rubs your thighs. he adores you with his eyes before moving away to align himself to your entrance. he rubs his tip on your folds, and you gasp. “this is gonna hurt a bit,”
and god does it fucking hurt. you have seen guys with his length before, but the girth takes your breath away. you moan with a moan to your eyes and curl to your toes. joshua rubs your nub to distract you from the pain. his other hand strokes your thigh and stomach gently.
when you seem accommodated enough, he pushes in further. and he does so till he’s deep inside you. it takes everything in him not to push it in one go. the wet warmth of your walls makes him lose his mind, and your clenching doesn’t help either.
he takes a firm hold of your hips and presses his hand flat on your tummy. he feels his cock through you, and it makes him moan with a bite to his lips. he rests his hand on either side of your head. “wrap your legs around me,” you quickly obey.
who knew you’d become such a mindless slut for Joshua’s cock? and who could even blame you? his cock stretches your walls with a delicious pain. and you can’t help but clench around him, sucking him in further and further. your hole flutters around his cock, and you’re more than pleased to see the effect you have on him.
you play with your nipples as he prepares to pull away. he looks at your hands before slapping them away, “tch, bad girl.”
he pulls out, except for his tip, and you immediately feel empty. he guides his cock inside you again, and you moan when he stretches you out again. he sighs before pulling out again. this time, he snaps his hips to yours in a quick motion.
he pauses to observe your reaction. “fuck!” you yell, your abdomen fluttering with the deep breaths you take. he takes it as a sign to continue. he snaps his hips again with a vigor he hasn’t shown previously. his moans sync with yours as he continues to thrust in and out of your cunt.
your hands fly to wrap around his strong shoulders as the bed beneath you trembles with his thrusts. his cock drives into your cunt, filling you to the brim. but he’s careful to not hurt you, ending up using only half of his length.
he undoes your legs around him and shifts to stand on the floor. he pulls you with him, and you yelp. “shh, don’t want them to find out what we’re doing, do you?” he places his forefinger on your lips and caresses your cheek.
“don’t care,” you whisper, and it takes him by surprise. the change in your behavior fuels him to only fuck you harder. he grips your hips, using them to maneuver your movements. he eases in, filling you entirely, and pulls out, only to slam his cock back in.
“fuck, see that?” he asks, interrupting your moans and whines. you lift your head, looking at his cock stretch you out. but that’s not what he’s talking about. he slams back in, and you see a bulge in your stomach. you gasp, your walls fluttering at the sight of the bulge.
joshua fucks you harder, focusing his eyes on the bulge, and your clenching drives him over the edge. he looks up to find you focusing on the bulge as well. one of his hands finds your face, squeezing your cheeks together.
he leans in, kissing your puckered lips harshly. his thrust only turns rougher with each passing second. the sound of skin slapping, your whimpers mixed in with his moans, and the distinct creak of the bed serve as a drug for Joshua. he picks you up, and you wrap your arms and legs around him in instinct.
you cling to him as he fucks you in the air. you don’t even have time to be impressed by his strength because his cock occupies every space in your mind. his cock screws into your cunt, harder and harder each time. you whine, nails digging into his shoulders.
his thrusts turn erratic, hips stuttering desperately to meet yours. he gasps, and his cock twitches with the need to release. fuck, he needs to come inside you. the mere idea of it drives him to fuck you with more strength.
your moans get louder, surely to catch the attention of bypassers outside the cabin. his gasps and moans make you look at him. his head is thrown back, and he fucks you mindlessly. his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, and you’re overcome with the need to mark it. a sheen of sweat coats his body, and the light shimmers off it, making him look heavenly.
he pulls you closer, pressing his chest to yours. he shifts one of his hands to hold your weight, grabbing your ass, and the other wraps around your upper back. you grind your hips, chasing some friction. he groans, tongue darting out to meet yours.
you eagerly welcome his tongue, tilting your head to kiss him deeply. your moans are swallowed by him, and both his hands now grip your ass. he kneads them in his hands, fucking you faster each time you clench around him.
“fuck! fuck!” he curses, hips stuttering to meet yours. your toes curl, and you scratch his back, biting his shoulder to quiet down your screams. you clench around him one last time and climax on his cock.
with a final thrust, he succumbs to his pleasure, releasing his load inside of you. you moan in unison, and he rushes to place you on the bed. he falls on top of you, cock still planted deep inside your cunt. he twitches, releasing the last of his load inside of you.
he doesn’t pull out, opting to stay inside you as he rests his forehead on yours. your legs tremble, and you take frequent breaths to calm down from the high.
“believe me, now?” your eyes are closed, but you can feel his smirk. you kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to hear his bragging.
with a kiss on your forehead, he pulls out. you hiss, your cunt feels empty, and you almost whine for him to put it back in. he falls to your side on the bed. you both lay breathless and stare up at the ceiling.
your legs and your core feel sore. a sigh leaves your lips, knowing you can't walk tomorrow without looking like a duckling.
“i'm calling in sick, tomorrow.” you inform your—what is he to you now, anyway?
his hand caresses your legs and sides as he cuddles up next to you. you snuggle into his warmth, slumber filling your veins.
“that bad?” you're too tired to retort his teasing.
“yeah. turns out your cock isn't just a choking hazard, it's also a health hazard.”
his laughter echoes through the walls of your cabin, and he hugs you tighter. you fall asleep with a smile on your face.
tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy
@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic
@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be on the taglist!)
♡ fluff | ✩ angst | ♪ personal favorite
Song Fic Series
S.Coups (c.sc)
♡ My Dawn | sfs
✩ Flower | sfs (currently down for editing)
Jeonghan (y.jh)
♡ Red | blurb
Joshua (h.js)
♡ Falling | blurb
Hoshi (k.sy)
♡ ✩ Proud | oneshot
Wonwoo (j.ww)
♡ Letters to You | sfs
Woozi (l.jh)
♡ ✩ ♪ To Feel Love | sfs
DK (l.sm)
♡ Daisy | sfs
Seungkwan (b.sk)
♡ Didn’t Stand a Chance | blurb
Vernon (h.vc)
♡ Korean Traditional Mungbean Pancake | oneshot
𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔥𝔧𝔰 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦
pairing: hong jisoo x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: lee jihoon, choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, lee chan, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 24k
taglist: @reiofsuns2001, @hipsdofangirl, @lovrehani
DISCLAIMER: as some parts of the hwarang series appear in every route, some scenes will appear the same with major to minor differences within the text.
𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦
𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 1𝔰𝔱, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The cold, gray sky of winter greets you with its hollow breath as you swing the door to your room open, any heat that has accumulated overnight swiftly dissipating as swaths of blustery air invade the space. From the looks of it, thick, gray clouds have begun to accumulate over the city outside the walls of the Hwarang’s compound, forecasting at least a light blanket of snow in the coming hours. You’d have to make sure that the fires from the kitchen aren’t low so that the ondol keeps warm under the building’s floors.
Before you move to exit the room, you reach to grab a jacket from your handful of things, sighing as you catch sight of a piece of paper hidden under your coat. It’s the letter that had brought you here in the first place. Nearly two weeks have passed since your arrival at the Hwarang’s headquarters, the same frigidity that had met you on your first meeting is still ingrained into them, the same distrust, no doubt, but it isn’t as if you can leave.
A frown as you look down at your clothes after shrugging the jacket onto your shoulders. Instead of your father’s clothes that you’d arrived in, they’d given you robes of their own. Not the blues of their commanders or warriors, but the deep green of their lesser ranks; of the pageboys, cooks, and less desirable positions within their numbers. They were and are foreign to you, you’d much rather wear the clothes that feel more familiar, even if they are men’s. But you aren’t meant to raise suspicion, just keep your head low until they find out more information of your father’s whereabouts. A female hiding out in the Hwarang’s headquarters would raise suspicion, start rumors, and with how much they hold themselves to a gold standard, it would be irreparable to their reputation.
Jihoon, the Hwarang’s commander, had given you strict instructions to keep up the facade as a male. Saying that, while it would be harmful to their reputation if the word got out, it would also be a beacon for those looking for your father, or perhaps even you. Only those that you’d met on the first day, as well as a handful of others within their leadership, know of your true identity.
As you move your hands away from the hem of your jacket, your fingers brush against the blade that Jihoon had given back to you the day you’d arrived. It’d been somewhat ceremonial in your household, not a thing of use as there was no need for it. Your father had claimed it to be an heirloom kept in the family since the birth of Silla as a kingdom. You aren’t sure of the validity of that statement though, as the metal isn’t tinged with rust, it looks newly forged at times.
Regardless of the validity of the blade, your father made you take several lessons with your town’s local head guard, who’d only taught a girl because her father was a well-known physician. Also, because your father could treat any injury you sustained while practicing, which wasn’t ever needed as any scrapes or scratches you obtained healed fairly quickly. When you were little you didn’t think much of it. Yet as you grew older you realized that you healed faster than most. Your father said it must’ve been a gift from the Heavens but urged you not to tell anyone about it. And you hadn’t, fearing that those around you would treat you like a witch or a monster if they were to find out.
Swordplay was never something you took much interest in, seeing that you’d probably never put the techniques you’d learned to use. Besides, you aren’t a bloodthirsty fiend looking for a chance to use it anyway, you’d rather help people than hurt them.
You’re pulled from your thoughts for a brief moment as a wang-do, one of the common Hwarang soldiers, passes by your room. They lock eyes with you for a moment, a scowl sneering onto their lips before they break their gaze and continue to stride past. Private rooms were only given to personnel of a higher rank within the Hwarang, and seeing how you are a newcomer, you can somewhat understand the resentment some of them have with your staying not in the typical quarters of those of your rank.
With more guilt than not as you accept the hospitality of the Hwarang, you try to help out as much as you can, despite the wishes of the commander. To the average wang-do, it probably seems as if you’re receiving special treatment from the captains. Despite the actuality of them keeping watch over you to make sure you wouldn’t spew their secrets; it would be confusing, aggravating even, from an outsider’s perspective. But, even if you were allowed free reign of the headquarters, it’s not as if you could speak to any of them, most were nobles from families of high wealth. And your father isn’t poor by any means, but the wealth disparity between the nobles of the capital and nobles of the countryside is nothing to scoff at.
So, you remain alone, for the time being, finding that the best way to not draw attention to yourself is to become practically invisible. Maybe if Jihoon allowed you to go out and search for your father you would find yourself more useful, but he’d just left for Hanseong a few days prior. Seeing as the man in charge of your stay here isn’t available, maybe your best bet would be to stay in your room until something of note happened, despite how aggravatingly boring it is.
The room is practically empty, only a bed, a small chest of drawers and a writing desk to keep you company. It reminds you of when your father would leave for his patient visits, disappearing for days at a time and leaving you alone at home. Although it isn’t the same, those visits had the promise of return. Waiting for someone you knew would come back and waiting for the unknown are vastly different things.
As your reflections manifest into exasperated sighs, you barely notice the sound of approaching footsteps heading towards your room.
“There you are!” Youngmin, the head of the Hwarang, exclaims once he catches sight of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you; I didn’t think you’d be in here!” He beams at you for a moment before stepping into the room with a tray in his hands.
“Oh, I’m… sorry?” you apologize as he sets down the tray onto the writing desk nestled into the corner of the room.
“Ah… wait… This is your room?” He questions as he straightens up, looking around at the interior for a moment.
“It is,” you nod, wondering what he’s thinking about.
“Then I just barged into a woman’s room without even announcing myself!” He looks flustered, his cheeks turning a tinge pink as he realizes his mistake and takes a few steps out of the room.
“It’s alright,” you try to assure him, “After all, it’s not like there’s anything here that I wouldn’t want you to see.”
“Hmm,” he sighs, trying to compose himself, “I thought since we’d assigned you to be Jihoon’s page your room would be next to his…” It seems as if Jihoon had neglected to inform Youngmin that you hadn’t actually been made a page. That isn’t in the least bit surprising with how coldly the commander had been treating you.
“I’m not fully equipped to entertain guests, but you’re welcome to come in if you’d like,” you offer, motioning for him to come back inside the room.
“You don’t need to worry,” he waves his hand as if to brush off the thought, “And, if I may, I’ll take you up on your offer.” Youngmin then steps back into the room, and as if he notices your hesitant demeanor, he speaks up once more, “And please don’t feel nervous around me, as long as you’re here you’re a guest of the Hwarang.”
You offer him a small smile before looking down to the tray he’d carried in. A look of shock comes over your face as you realize what he’d brought, “This is—!”
Youngmin chuckles lightly, “I take it you’re a fan of sweets then? Jihoon’s adoptive mother likes to send them to us every once in a while, and hardly anyone touches them.” Several assorted hangwa lay on the dish, their colors vibrant against the gray gloom of the light shining in from outside, next to a steaming cup of tea. “Go ahead and have some, if you’d like.”
“Thank you very much,” you nod and make your way over to gingerly pick up one of the confections. You look at the pink treat for a moment before taking a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness of it before turning back to Youngmin, “It’s delicious.” Snacks like this were only limited to holidays or festivals back home, it’s shocking to hear that Jihoon’s mother had sent such a thing on a whim.
“I’m glad you like them,” he smiles. Something about Youngmin’s presence holds an aura of warmth, that makes you feel more relaxed than you had been with any other member of the Hwarang since your arrival. “Ah, I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to go outside?”
A nod, “That’s right. But if that’s what’s needed for me to stay here, I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble by going out.”
He looks almost sympathetic as he parts his lips once more, “I see… I’m glad you understand. I know that Jihoon can seem a little intimidating at first but he’s a truly caring man.”
To see the man who’d kept you in relative solitude for a few weeks as a caring person didn’t seem fully right… But Youngmin knows him much better than you do.
“He may be a little strict with you, but only because he’s trying to do what’s in your best interest.” Youngmin sighs, a telling sign that maybe he hadn’t agreed with everything Jihoon had done before. “I’ll speak to him once he gets back, I know this must be hellish for you, but I can only ask you to hang in for a bit longer.”
“Alright,” you nod, “Thank you.” Even if Youngmin’s visit hadn’t done much to change your living arrangement, it had lightened your mood ever so slightly.
After Youngmin had departed and you’d been left to sulk in your room for a while, you notice that the sun was slowly sinking into the sky. The clouds of earlier in the day had parted to let the golden light shine onto the headquarters as the sun made its descent into the horizon. It feels as if time itself has stopped, the sun hanging in the same place for an unimaginably long time.
All this time in solitude is doing a number on both your mental and emotional state. Any hope of getting out of your isolation seems to slip with each passing moment you spend alone. You had come to the capital to find your father, not get swept up into a world where your life lay on the line should you slip up and say something you shouldn’t.
Even if they were showing you more hospitality than you could’ve asked for, you know that you can’t trust the Hwarang completely.
“They can’t all be that bad… right?” you mutter to yourself as you sit at the small drawing table, flipping through the letters you’d brought with you.
“Has anyone ever called you ‘gullible’, before?” A voice behind you causing you to jump and turn to see who’d spoken.
Your gaze hardens as you see Boo Seungkwan standing in your doorway, arms crossed with a small frown painted on his lips. “What are you doing here?” Asking as you push yourself to your feet, brushing off your pant legs before facing him fully.
“You didn’t notice me? It’s my turn to keep watch over you,” he sighs, “You talk to yourself a lot, don’t you?”
Had you really been thinking aloud earlier? You bite your lip and try to mentally remind yourself to never do that again as you’d never know who could be listening in on you here. Before you can retort, Hansol steps in from the hallway.
“I think that’s enough picking on her, Seungkwan.” He frowns at the other.
“Did you hear me too?” You question, somewhat embarrassed about how this was playing out.
“I only just arrived,” he shakes his head in the negative. “I came to tell you that dinner is ready but,” Hansol’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at you, noticing how incrementally flustered you’re getting, “have I interrupted something?”
“Nothing at all!” You insist, trying to calm yourself.
“I was going to let the two of you continue to speak, but if I had left you two alone, I knew that he’d probably try and get you out of sorts again,” Hansol notes somewhat stoically, probably thinking of the times where he’d been in the exact same situation. His shoulders shrug before the sound of more approaching footsteps reaches you.
Soonyoung rushes into the room with loud, heavy stomps. His eyes are somewhat frantic, his voice somewhat annoyed as he speaks, “Hey! It’s dinnertime and I’m absolutely starving.”
“Sorry about that, I’ll be there soon,” Hansol apologizes to the younger.
Soonyoung then looks to you, “You too, hurry up or Junhui’s gonna eat all of the food again.”
“Sorry Captain Kwon, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You say as he begins to turn on his heels to leave before stopping himself.
His lips purse together before he looks back at you, “Look… can you drop the ‘Captain Kwon’ thing? Just call me Soonyoung, everyone else here does.”
“Are you sure about that?” You question with an inquisitive tilt of your head.
“Why not? We’re practically the same age, aren’t we? And we don’t need honorifics either, I’m not one of those uptight nobles.” He frowns slightly.
“Alright then… Soonyoung.”
“That’s more like it,” he grins, “Now let’s go.”
The walk to the dining area is more familiar than any other route you’d taken thus far during your stay with the Hwarang. Meals are the only time of day that you really are able to leave your room and have company, even if that company was the other captains of the Hwarang.
“You’re lateee,” a whine from Wen Junhui as he sits in front of his meal, the lids still atop the dishes so as to not let the steam out. “Who’s responsible for this? My stomach’s crying and I think my soup’s already gone cold,” he frowns as everyone finishes filing into the hall.
“You mean ‘growling’,” Soonyoung snickers as he moves to take his seat next to Junhui, you move to sit on the other side of Junhui, next to Mingyu. “Sometimes it’s really easy to tell that you’re not from here.”
“That doesn’t even matter, you should all apologize to my stomach,” the taller’s hands fly to his abdomen as the remaining captains take their seats, “it’s been desperate for food since this morning’s practice routines.”
A small ‘tch’ from Mingyu as he rolls his eyes at the two, “A commoner correcting a noble, I never thought I’d see the day.” There’s a tinge of sarcasm to his voice as he speaks, the tone disappearing as he pipes up once more, “Alright, now that everyone’s here we can eat.”
There’s general chatter amongst the captains as they start to uncover their dishes and begin to dig into their meals. You sit and eat in relative silence until Junhui’s voice begins to raise on your right.
“There’s hardly enough here to feed a kid, let alone a guy like me,” you turn your head and watch his gaze trail down to Soonyoung’s tray to his right, “I guess I’ll have to take yours…” His now empty hands make a grab for the bowl of rice situated atop Soonyoung’s tray. “Survival of the—”
“Survival of the fittest my ass, Junhui,” the other retorts, sticking out his elbow and hitting the other square in the chest. There’s a hollow thud reverberating around Wen’s ribcage, it sounds painful, but he doesn’t look phased at all. But it did stop him from trying to snatch Soonyoung’s meal. “Why’re you always stealing my food?”
Junhui laughs, you hear Mingyu also let out a small chuckle to your left. “It’s because of the size difference, Soonyoung. I’ve got a bigger body; therefore I need more food.”
“No way, I’ve gotta eat too!” Soonyoung protests, his elbow still locked in place trying to hold the other back.
“You’d think they’d be more civil around a woman,” Mingyu, at the tailend of his laughter, notes about the two, “but they’re always like this.”
“I think I’ve gotten used to it by now,” you respond, setting down the cup of tea you’d been drinking before looking at Hansol, who’s gaze seems to have drifted across the room to the bickering pair.
“How we’ve managed so long without them killing one another is beyond me,” he says before eating a spoonful of the soup in front of him. “Are you not eating?” Hansol questions Seungkwan, who sits next to him. The latter sits reclined back in his seat, seemingly watching the entertainment in front of him instead of touching his food.
“I’m alright. If I eat too much in one sitting I get slow.” He nods, reaching for his cup.
“What do you mean ‘slow’?” Junhui pokes, gaze shifting from Soonyoung to Seungkwan for a moment and then down to the food on the older’s plates. “But if you’re not going to eat…”
“Go for it,” Seungkwan scoots the tray forward with his elbow, passing it over to Junhui as his hand is still occupied with his cup. “As long as I’ve got makgeolli, I’m alright.”
“Sounds like I’m going with makgeolli too,” Mingyu sighs and passes a few plates from his tray onto yours after noticing that most of your food was already eaten.
“You don’t have to—” you begin to protest before Seungkwan speaks up again.
“Don’t worry about eating too much or being a freeloader,” he says, a weird bubbling of guilt arising in your stomach.
“I understand but I can’t help but feel a little bad…” You state as you look down to the newly acquired plates in front of you.
“If you’re going to let that get to you, you’re never going to get anything you want,” Hansol says pointedly, continuing to eat the mix of soup in front of him.
“A- alright,” you nod, picking up your utensils again and beginning to pick at the newfound food on your tray. Because you never had much contact with others during the daytime, it makes having dinner with the captains something of an entertaining and frightening experience every night. But it’s fun. A small smile curls onto your lips at the thought of some normalcy for a moment when you hear Mingyu speak again.
“You know we’re not going to hurt you, right?” He’d seen your smile, probably seeing it as you begin to relax, and he seeks to soothe your anxieties about them even more so. His own lips have a soft smile of their own, an honesty brimming with it. Maybe they’d all been trying to put you at ease with their antics.
It was troublesome to navigate, you have conflicted feelings about staying with them and taking up their time and resources, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. They seemed to realize that too and instead of scorning you for it, were trying to make the best of it.
But before you could ponder on the notion for much longer, Song Eunseok enters the room.
“Captains?” He asks somewhat quietly, but the noise of his arrival had turned all heads towards him. “Do you have a moment?” Voice soft as usual, his eyes teem with a quiet anxiety that you hadn’t ever seen during your brief acquaintance with him. The gaiety that had once erupted in the room comes to a fizz as he begins to speak once more, “I’ve just gotten a letter from Sabi, Seungcheol’s been gravely injured during a skirmish.”
Your brows raise as Seungkwan shouts out, “What the hell happened?!”
“A group of Baekje revivalists were laying siege to the chancellor’s home, Seungcheol and Jihoon arrived in time to subdue them, however, Seungcheol was injured at some point during the fight.”
“Is he going to be alright?” You ask, your hands clenching together, nails digging into the skin.
“According to Jihoon's letter he is gravely hurt, but the wound is on his left arm.” Eunseok’s teeth gnaw at the insides of his cheek for a moment, “It will be hard for him to draw an arrow or wield a blade but it’s almost certain that he will survive this.”
“That’s good,” a sigh of relief leaving you, but the air lies tense from the other captains as they await more answers regarding their comrade’s status.
“Seungcheol should be returning in a few days,” Eunseok nods, a solemn tone to his voice, “I’ll go and talk with Kwak some more regarding the situation, if anything else arises I’ll let you know.” He was already halfway out the door by the time he finished speaking, talking over his shoulder in a bated anxiety to rival that of the rest of the room.
“An injury so bad he can’t hold a bow or sword?” Hansol almost thinks aloud, “He may have severed an artery. He may never carry a blade again if that’s true…” You now begin to understand the severity of the situation, why the air grew heavy and the voices grew low. “If he were to fight one handed against an opponent of similar skill he would almost certainly lose.”
“... If push comes to shove he’ll have to take it. Seungcheol’s not just going to give up like that,” Seungkwan frowns, the cup in his hand settling down onto the table in front of him with a small clink before his hands fall into his lap.
“Don’t say that, Boo,” Junhui’s face mirrors an equal grimace to that of the elder’s. “It’ll look bad if captains start joining the Furies.”
“... Who?” You question, trying to follow their conversation as best you could but finding yourself lost as they begin to speak of things unknown to you. “The Furies?”
“Furies,” Soonyoung begins, “They come from something you drink where any injury can be cur—”
“Soonyoung!” Before you know it, Mingyu is on his feet and striding around you to the captain. The elder captain’s hand reaches down and pulls up the younger by the front of his robes.
“Ah—” Soonyoung’s voice catches in his throat, his eyes go wide as if he’s realized he’d said something that he shouldn’t have.
“You’re overreacting, Kim.” Junhui stands, trying to pry Mingyu’s irontight grasp away from Soonyoung. “It’s my fault anyway, I said something first.” When Mingyu relinquishes Soonyoung’s green robes from his grip, Junhui shoots the younger a sympathetic look, “Sorry.”
“I should’ve watched myself,” Soonyoung sighs, his hands moving to straighten his now wrinkled garment.
Junhui’s gaze then turns to you, his tone becoming sterner, “Everything you just heard is something you should never repeat. I know you’re probably curious, but we can’t say anything else about it, so don’t ask.” The cold weight hiding behind his eyes is enough to make you feel uneasy about what you’d just heard. You’re not even sure what they were talking about, but it seems important enough to stay a secret.
“Those Furies that Soonyoung was talking about are pitiful men,” Seungkwan states as he pushes himself to his feet. His voice held none of the snideness that it normally had, taking on a flatter and emotionless tone. A sate sort of melancholy coming over him, it’s clear he has something on his mind.
“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” Junhui says to you as he breaks the silence, “So don’t try and get worked up about it.”
Seeing as you were only a guest of the Hwarang and not an actual member among their ranks, you can understand their secrets. But it doesn’t make you any less curious.
“Try your best to forget about it,” Hansol warns, not so much to you but to your circumstance, “The more involved you become with our affairs will only put you in more danger.”
The wall built up between you and the captains was almost tangible at this point, not an easy thing to scale or break through.
Dinner ended in relative silence, you excused yourself to your room and hurried back to collect your thoughts. You exhale a large sigh as you enter, your mind hopping from the fate of the Hwarang’s colonel to what the Furies were. It reminds you of the rakshasa from the Buddhist texts your father had made you read as a young girl. The phrases ‘something you drink’ and ‘becoming a Fury’ bounce around your skull before you stop yourself. Hansol had asked you to forget, but it feels as if him saying that only makes you want to remember.
For whatever reason, the Hwarang captains were keeping hush about whatever ordeal was occurring. Was it to protect you? Regardless, sticking your nose into their business would only be detrimental to your stay with them.
With that in mind you try to clear your head as best you can before slipping into bed and trying to drift off to sleep.
𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 3𝔯𝔡, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s been a little over two months since you’d joined the Hwarang at the headquarters in Seorabeol. Jihoon and Seungcheol had returned from their expedition to Sabi, but morale among the men was low. For a while after their return, due to Seungcheol’s injury, a few operations within the organization became hectic due to his absence. The wounds he’d acquired were grim, draining most of the goodness in his nature before your very eyes. He’d spend days locked away in his room, the silence deafening to those who would venture in and try to speak to him.
On the rare occasion that he did leave his room, his temper lay short before he’d barricade himself away in his abode once more. The Hwarang had offered to let him return to his family for recovery’s sake, but he insisted that his duty remain with his compatriots, despite his abysmal attitude.
Even though you too were holed up away inside of your room, the ways in which the two of you coped with the ordeal were vastly different. Seungcheol was trapped within himself, fallen from whatever pedestal he thought was his to a mere memory of what once was. You, on the other hand, were merely looking for ways to help your hosts.
In doing so, you now find yourself wandering the halls of the Hwarang’s main building looking for Lee Jihoon, who hopefully has an assignment for you to complete. Much in fashion for the commander, he was nowhere to be seen. You debate on whether it would be impolite to go to his room directly when an unknown soldier walks up to you.
Their face is unfamiliar to you and they aren’t wearing the blue robes associated with the Hwarang on patrol. There is a chance you’d never seen them before, but by the way they are looking at you, you can surmise that that isn’t the case.
“You… wouldn’t have happened to have seen Commander Lee… would you?” You ask as they approach, their gait long and almost prideful.
“And who are you?” They question, looking you over with scathing eyes as if to detect your character, “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
“Oh well… it’s a long story,” you mumble out, noticing their gaze sharpening on you.
“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Their voice raises, the sternness only growing, “Answer me!”
Fumbling out your words, you introduce yourself quickly.
“Hmm,” he ponders, gaze softening ever so slightly, “I heard that the Commander recently acquired an apprentice warrior as a new page, it must be you.”
“I am,” you respond with faux cocksureness, not realizing that the men had referred to you as an apprentice warrior under the Hwarang.
“Why don’t you enlighten me on how you came to know the Chief and Commander?” The man’s scrutinizing gaze continues as you straighten your posture, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I heard you’re from Toehwa-hyeon, but how were you able to squeeze your way in here?”
“I didn’t ‘squeeze my way in here’,” you retort, not liking how this man was addressing you.
“Judging by how defensive you’re being, it sounds as if I’ve gotten it right.” He almost scoffs at you in disbelief, “This isn’t some place for a common boy without any worth in his duties or on the battlefield to walk in without earning it. I’ll ask you one last time: how did you come to know the Chief and Commander?”
You stay silent, unsure of how to address him or what answer would be the right one. Yet, before you can begin to formulate a response, he steps forward and grabs the sleeve of your robes, “I, Suh Kangjoon, am asking you a question.” With the way he states his own name, it’s as if he’s trying to signal himself as someone of importance, but you’d never heard the other captains speak of him before. “What makes you think you can ignore me?” Rather than have a calm air as he asked, his tone had almost shifted to that of a petulant child.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice barks off to the side, coming from one of the hall’s entranceways. Both Kangjoon and you turn to see Jihoon standing in the doorway, an almost scowl painting his lips as he watches the scene before him. Once Kangjoon had realized it was him, his hand falls away from clutching at your robes and returns to his side.
“Very well, Commander,” he wets his lips as Jihoon approaches before clearing his throat and speaking once again. “I’m here on business with Gukseon Kwak.”
“Is that right?” Jihoon’s voice is tipped with a poisonous edge, as if he didn’t fully trust the character in front of you. “He failed to mention that to me.”
“He wrote to me with special orders to aid him while Colonel Choi is out of commission,” he begins, “I have the letter if you’d like to read it.”
“That’s quite alright,” Jihoon waves him off, “but I think it’d be in your interest to know that Kwak is out on training runs with Kwon’s squadron today.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to come back at a later date,” the air of faux civility between the two was nearly palpable, Jihoon doing nothing to hide his distaste whereas Kangjoon only looked at him snidely. The newcomer begins to turn on his heels, heading for the exit before his pace slows and leaves the two of you with a few words, “Is it true that you’ve welcomed him as your page, Commander?”
“Yes,” Jihoon nods, glancing at you for a moment before returning to look at the other, “but it’s no concern to you.”
A flash of an uncaring smile, “Forgive me, then. I’ll try not to ask more as it seems to be out of my jurisdiction.” Another step before he stills, “I do, however, question your predisposition toward keeping those from higher ranks close to you,” his eyes widen in faux surprise, “Ah, it seems I’ve forgotten myself, please excuse me.”
Once the stranger has exited the building, only then do you feel a sigh of relief overcome you. But before you have the chance to dwell on it for too long, Jihoon speaks up.
“You shouldn’t be walking around the headquarters without my permission, you know.”
“I understand, Commander, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you begin to apologize.
“Your presence here isn’t known by the other factions of the Hwarang, only those staying here at Shoshin,” He explains, “be mindful of anyone that isn’t a Hwarang from this sect, understood?”
“Understood,” you nod. “But can I ask who that man was?”
“That man is a captain of the Hanseong Hwarang. His name is Suh Kangjoon.” Jihoon looks as if he’s wracking his brain for an adequate description of the man, “His archery and swordsmanship are decent, but he’s well read and has a knack for military tactics.” His voice lowers a bit for his next statement. “He’s cunning, so be careful.”
“Okay.”
“Regardless of that,” his voice back to a decent volume as his gaze hardens at you, “if you’re not attending to someone then I fully expect you to stay put in your room.” With that, you suppose, he meant to dismiss you back to your quarters as any strict commander should and would have done.
A wordless nod, understanding that asking any more of him would cause his mood to sour even more so after his meeting with Suh Kangjoon. Jihoon turns on his heels the same time as you, drifting away towards his room on the opposite end of the compound while you shuffle back to yours.
𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The air thick with humidity sweeping in from the coast, the entirety of the Kingdom of Silla lies in mourning after the death of the posthumously named King Taejong Muyeol. With the lauded last year's effort of him uniting both Silla and Baekje, the former kingdom to the west of Silla, hanging over the heads of every citizen, his death felt like a sharp blow to all. For the first few days of the month, the Hwarang had traveled to Banweolseong, the King’s palace, to pay their respects to the fallen monarch, leaving you alone with only Eunseok as company.
Once the Hwarang had steadily returned to the compounds, an air of normalcy once again began to hang over the inhabitants and the buildings themselves. Yet, midway through the month, Emperor Gaozong of the Tang dynasty called in aid from Silla to attack the kingdom of Gogoryeo. The kingdom resides to the north, and the Tang emperor wished to pincer it from both sides so that it would fall under either Tang or Silla rule.
Whereas this may have been the wishes of Taejong Muyeol, the new king, Munmu, found issue in sending out an army so close to the prior monarch’s death. Yet, as an almost tributary state to the Tang, Silla was forced to comply by sending soldiers to the front. No members of the Hwarang were called, as they were to remain in their cities and keep patrol when the officers that normally stood guard could not.
It’s a cooler day of the beginning of summer, you’d just come back to your room with your laundry when Hansol appears at your door. He stands there for a moment, allowing you to put down the basket of clothes in your hands before speaking, “Commander Lee would like a word with you.”
A wordless nod and you begin to follow him. Hansol leads you to the main hall, only stopping at the entranceway and gesturing you inside, you step into the room and hear Hansol go in behind you, closing the door after he enters. Looking around, you spot Jihoon, Seungkwan, Mingyu, Junhui and Soonyoung standing around the hall. It seems as if only the captains and you had been summoned for this meeting.
“I know you’ve been waiting for this, but the time has come to finally let you out,” Jihoon says once everyone’s settled into a comfortable silence.
Your lips part and you can barely contain the gasp forming in the back of your throat, “Really?” Unable to contain your excitement, you try to compose yourself before speaking again. “So, there really was someone who saw my father in Hwango-dong?” You question, only hearing rumors of someone who’d seen a man with your father’s profile in one of the city’s districts.
“We’re not sure if it’s true or not,” Jihoon cedes as he nods his head, “It’s our intention to let you verify for us. Considering that you’d recognize him the best out of everyone here.”
“So, where is this man who said he saw him?”
“The initial report outlines Jeolin Inn in Hwango-dong, Hansol’s assigned to do a preliminary check.” Both your and his attention turn to the man Jihoon had named. Did this mean that you were to accompany him to check or were you to wait here until after he’d swept the area?
“That doesn’t mean that Heo is a guest of the inn though,” Kim chimes in.
“Yeah,” Junhui agrees, “Being sighted in Hwango-dong could just mean he was walking around Seorabeol.”
“Exactly,” Jihoon sighs, crossing his arms and looking at Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu, “That’s why I’m asking the three of you to take her out on your rounds to assist her in her search.”
“All of us?” Soonyoung’s head tilts in confusion, “We normally split up and go our separate ways on our rounds.”
Rather than entertaining Soonyoung with a response, Jihoon looks back to you. It was a quiet way to say that they were still in charge of looking over you, needing to make sure you wouldn’t try and make a break for it should they take you out in search for your father.
“We get what you’re trying to say, Jihoon,” Seungkwan notes, “but I don’t like that you’re making us do all of the babysitting. I thought you were planning on patrolling as well?” The teasing lilt to his voice returns, “So, for your benefit, why don’t you show your adorable page the ropes by taking her out with you?”
“Aren’t you the one who pushed her onto me?” Jihoon scoffs, “I’m not taking any of your shit today, Li. She isn’t my page.”
“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t, but a lot of the wang-do are beginning to believe it.” Seungkwan notes, crossing his own arms. “There’s always a grain of truth in every lie, so why don’t you give her a job already?”
As the two continue their stalemating conversation, Mingyu moves to your side and whispers something to you, “Seorabeol isn’t the safest place right now, as you know, so you don’t have to force yourself to leave. I mean we all know what your dad looks like, so it’s not just your risk alone to bear.”
It seems like you could either explore where your father had last been seen, patrol the surrounding area, accompany Jihoon as his page, or stay here, from what Mingyu had suggested.
“I think I should stay behind today,” after a moment of thinking, you come to the conclusion. There was no assurance that your father is out on the streets of Seorabeol still, and the looming threat of danger still hangs over the city.
“What?!” Soonyoung frowns, “But what about your father?”
“I have to understand my place here too, though… We don’t even know if he’s there anymore,” you give him a small smile and nod, “I’m sure more chances will come.”
“If you say so,” he sounds a bit jilted, “But if you’ve already made up your mind there’s no convincing you…”
After that, the men deliberate their plans before heading off to their respective destinations and you return to your room. The thought of not going eats away at you, maybe it would’ve been better to take the risk and venture out…
“If you’re going to regret it that much, you should’ve gone with them.”
The voice behind you startles you from your thoughts, you swivel on your heels to greet who’d interrupted your thinking, “Seungkwan… I’m not regretting it.” Yet, you are, so much so that you can’t bear to look into his eyes. But he smiles wryly, putting a hand on your shoulder.
“Not at all?” He asks with a grin, “Not even if you knew Hansol and I went out of our way to convince Jihoon?”
“You what…?” The revelation sucks the air from your lungs, not expecting him to say that at all. Had you wasted their kindness? “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize—”
“Ah, well, it was actually Hansol that convinced him. I just stood behind him and nodded lightly.”
“Even so,” you say as you look at him, “I’m sorry… I’ll apologize to Hansol later— Should there be another opportunity, please give me another chance to join you.”
Seungkwan hesitates for a moment before responding, his eyes focusing deeply on yours, “You may be able to accompany us, but you’d better keep that blade sheathed. We don’t need any recklessness holding us back.” His eyes are serious but his smile remains bright, “If there’s any sign of you becoming an issue, I won’t hesitate to put my blade through you.”
“I understand,” you say, nodding plaintively.
The Hwarang says nothing more as he removes his hand from you, turning on his heels and making his way out of the main hall.
𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 7𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Kwon Soonyoung and Boo Seungkwan stand in the great hall as you enter. The past few weeks had given you no information on the whereabouts of your father, despite you going on patrolling rounds with the different Hwarang captains. You assume the information, or lack of, was the reason for your summoning today by Lee Jihoon. Although the presence of the other two Hwarang captains make you feel somewhat more relieved, you wouldn’t have to face the Demon commander alone.
“You asked to see me?” There is a sour look on Jihoon’s face as you ask, something clearly eating away at him.
“It’s about your father,” he begins, and you perk up for a moment. Jihoon’s frown stays on his face as he looks at you, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you can already tell you won’t like what he says. “I think it’s best we stop searching for him for the time being.”
“Why?” You can hardly stop yourself from blurting out the question. You’d only been able to search for him for what felt like a handful of weeks, if you were to stop now there was a major possibility you could lose any leads you have.
Jihoon remains collected, his arms crossing as he speaks again, “We have reports of activity from Baekje loyalists. It would be more than foolish to let you wander the streets in search of your father at a time like this.”
“Then, are you asking me to stay here until things are resolved with the loyalists?” You question with a tilt of your head, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.
The commander nods before turning to Soonyoung and Seungkwan, “That being said, as for now she isn’t to accompany any captain on their rounds.”
“So that’s why you pulled us in here?” The question is more like a musing as it falls from Soonyoung. It seems like he too hadn’t known why he was called here and it was now beginning to click. “You know, she’s never caused any issues when we took her on our rounds… I feel kind of bad now that she can’t tag along.”
“Mhm,” Seungkwan nods, “even if something were to happen, as long as she’s not hopping into the fray it should be alright. Besides,” he smirks at you, “it’s not like she could outrun us if she tries to escape.”
“I won’t run,” you protest firmly, knowing that he was fully joking. Eyes lingering on Seungkwan for a moment before you look back to Jihoon, “I made a promise when I agreed to stay here. I promised I’d look for my father, I can’t hold myself to that if you won’t let me.”
“Staying with us is putting yourself at risk,” Seungkwan shrugs in your periphery, “if you don’t mind that, I don’t mind you joining us.” His gaze travels to Jihoon, his lips parting, “We’ve had witness reports, I don’t see why we should stop looking when we still have information coming in.”
“You might have a point, Boo. But are witness reports a justifiable reason to put her in harm’s way?” The commander rebukes, his hands falling to his sides. “By taking her out with us, we’re placing an unnecessary burden on our shoulders.”
“If I lose the opportunity to search for my father,” fists clenching at your sides, your nails digging into the skin of your palms, “then any future chances of finding him will be nearly impossible.”
Jihoon looks at you, eyes searching yours, his gaze hardening. You think he’s about to refute you, before he starts speaking again. “You need to follow the orders of every captain you’re on patrol with. No sidetracking them. Am I clear?”
“Yes,” you nod, “of course.” Unsure of how to show your gratitude, you bow towards him.
“I’m not going to be the one ordering you to join them,” the commander huffs as you rise, “that’s up to your discretion.”
It feels like no time at all before you reach the city’s streets accompanying Seungkwan on his rounds.
“It feels like there’s more people here than usual…” You note as you walk, having to move to the side several times to let flocks of people pass by as the street lay cramped.
“Mind yourself,” Seungkwan notes, pulling you to the side, out of the way of a passing cart. “Try not to wander off or something. Remember that you’re here to keep me company on my rounds.”
“Sorry I was just distracted by everyone!” You say, brushing off the dust on your pants, “The city’s much livelier now.”
His eyes twinkle and he smiles voraciously; you can sense him relax. “Well, there’s a summer festival happening soon, things are busier, I’ll give you that.” His smile wanes just a bit, “Of course, some of those loyalists are acting pretty strange too. What I’m saying is, watch yourself, alright?”
As you walk down the street with his division, no one comes within a few yards of you; they step away as soon as their eyes catch sight of the blues. You’d noticed this phenomenon briefly when you’d first joined the Hwarang on their rounds, but it seems clear that the people of Seorabeol hold some sort of respect for these men.
You stop every so often to ask some of the less intimidated passersby if they’d seen your father. Yet, after a few hours of searching, you finally meet someone who claims to have seen a man matching your description.
“Oh, yeah… I think I might’ve seen that guy a while back, over at Joon’s.” As he speaks, he points toward a store selling inkstones and brushes.
“Thank you!” You say as Seungkwan catches your eye, giving you a stern look. It almost looks as if he’s going to scold you when—
“You there! Are you from the Kang household?!” The cry comes from a Hwarang, and Seungkwan turns from you, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Your household is currently under investigation by order of the Crown.”
“Well shit…” Seungkwan sighs out, reaching for his sword as he looks at the men in question. “I guess they would choose the worst possible time to stir up trouble.”
Like leaves scattering in a storm, the townspeople move out of Seungkwan’s way as he moves towards the commotion. For a moment you panic in the mass of fleeing citizens, but perhaps realize it’s best. If you stay too close, you may distract Seungkwan from his duties.
You duck off into a nearby alley to watch, planning to return to the men once the tension simmers.
“Hey kid,” a gravelly voice of an elder shopkeeper cries out, “Come over here, you don’t want to get caught up in that.”
Time and time you’d been told to be wary of strangers while with the Hwarang, and you’re about to politely refuse his gesture when you realize that his shop is the one that the civilian had pointed out to you just moments earlier.
“Excuse me, but is this Joon’s?”
“Yes,” the man nods, “It is.”
“Great!” You cry out, only before being interrupted by another shop employee.
“Kang! This guy was just with the Hwarang!”
“What?!” The elder says, his eyebrows raising.
“Huh? I’m not a member of the Hwarang.” You push, but the elder already seems to be backing up into his shop, obviously disinterested in helping you now. “No—it’s not like that! I’m just looking for someone!” Even if you’d just been walking with them, their reaction seems a bit excessive.
A laugh behind you and you see Seungkwan standing there with his arms crossed, “You really have the shittiest luck, don’t you? Still, I guess you could say the same about them, or me.” He gives a small, unconcerned shrug before reaching for his blade and barreling his way through the door of the shop.
Joon’s explodes with the clang of blades, men swearing and scrambling.
When you return to the Hwarang headquarters, Seungcheol has a number of… less than pleasant words to say. Seungkwan and you kneel for quite some time as the colonel berates you before the other speaks up.
“You don’t need to lose your head over it Seungcheol,” Seungkwan sighs, “After all, we arrested a couple of loyalists.”
After the fighting was finished, you’d discovered a massive arms cache, as well as plans for a new meeting for the loyalists. No one had bothered to explain to you what had been going on, however, and you’d been completely lost.
“Not something to lose my head over?” Seungcheol frowns, “My head is right where it belongs. Perhaps you should inquire after yours. The man claiming to be Joon Hyunjin was, in truth, Kang Kwanghyeon, a loyalist spy. You were aware that the Hwarang were allowing him to operate in hopes of gathering enemy intel?”
“Yes,” Seungkwan nods, rising to his feet as Mingyu walks into the hall, “but we didn’t have a choice this time. I had to bring him in.”
“Well at least it wasn’t a total bust,” Mingyu adds, “Like Seungkwan said, they did arrest some guys.”
“But don’t you feel bad for Wonwoo and Chan?” Soonyoung asks, trailing behind Mingyu. Had they been outside the doors this whole time? “They were staking out the place to keep an eye on Kwanghyeon.”
The corners of Soonyoung’s mouth twitch into a smile, but Wonwoo interrupts him to continue. “We appreciate your concern, Soonyoung, but nobody needs to lose any sleep on our account. We hadn’t been getting anywhere with him the last few days, Seungkwan did us a favor.”
Chan nods in silent agreement. “His arrest is over and done, you won’t hear any complaints from us about it, though.”
“You’re the definition of stoic and reasonable,” Junhui sighs out, crossing his arms, “Seungkwan on the other hand…” It doesn’t seem as if he’s going to let Seungkwan get away without rubbing his mistake in his face.
“It’s all my fault,” you say, “Some loyalists were causing trouble, so I tried to get out of the way… I was going to go back to Seungkwan after it settled but the crowds pushed me too far away.”
“But who was tasked with looking after you?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes glaring at you, expression hard and angry. “A captain of the Hwarang can’t even track a charge. Is this the best we can do?” When you’d first met Seungcheol, he’d been nice, if anything a little quiet. After his injury, however… It was as if he’d become an entirely different person.
“I told her she could go.” Jihoon says as he walks into the hall, “They were only following orders.”
Seungcheol’s eyes trail him as he moves to stand at the head of the room. He gives the commander a tight, wry smile, but only receives a peaceful, impartial glance in return.
“If you’re here, then that means you’re done interrogating Kwanghyeon, right?” Mingyu asks expectantly.
“They’re going to wait for a day when the wind picks up, then set Seorabeol on fire and kidnap the King while everyone else is losing their shit.” Jihoon answers, “So they say, at least.” His voice is calm and measured, but you can all feel the import of his words.
“Burn down the city?” Junhui scoffs, “Those loyalists are crazier than I thought.”
“Whatever their reasons, we cannot ignore them,” Hansol says plainly.
“They’re probably meeting tonight to scramble together a plan without Kwanghyeon in it.” Jihoon says, “We need to get ready to move out.”
“Understood,” Hansol nods.
“Finally,” Junhui says as he stretches, several pops coming from his back, “I’m getting chills.”
Even though each man displays their professionalism differently, they are all clearly prepared. As they quiet down, Jihoon turns towards you, as if he’d only just noticed you’re standing there.
“We did get some information on Heo, apparently he visited Joon’s with some men from the west.”
“What?”
“So, the rumors that he was seen in Seorabeol were true, but that’s all there is to it.”
There are so many questions running through your head that you want to ask but you know that no one here has an answer for them.
Preparations for the raid begin immediately after the captains are all gathered in the main hall. There was even more commotion by the time dinner rolled around. The halls now darkened save for the braziers and candles that light the entrances and walls. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.
It still affects you all the same. Your encounter at Joon’s created some of their current headache, and you hope to make up for it. Yet, any offer of assistance now is rebuked, it became quite clear that you have very little to offer when it comes to preparing for a raid. At the end of it, you stick to the wall, standing there quietly to avoid being a burden.
“Youngmin has only twelve men ready to fight,” Hansol murmurs to Mingyu.
“And Jihoon and I have twenty-four a piece, everyone’s sick!” Mingyu says exasperatedly. There had been a swift food poisoning epidemic earlier in the week leaving many men bedridden. It’s like they’re now divided in half. Youngmin would lead a group of a dozen men to Wonweol Inn and Jihoon would lead twenty-three to Jeolin Inn on opposite ends of the city. “Do you think we’ll bring ‘em along tonight?” Mingyu asks, “It’d be perfect…”
Them?
“I heard they won’t see combat for a while. They’re having… difficulty adjusting.” Hansol frowns. “They stop listening to orders as soon as they see blood. It’s rather inconvenient.”
The topic confuses you, yet you feel as if you’d heard something similar a while ago. Both of the captains hadn’t realized that you’re listening to their conversation. But it’s crucial that you don’t speak up.
“They’ve gotta be spinning in their graves… Didn’t they choose to do this so they could fight?”
“Mingyu… You can only say that after someone’s actually dead.”
“I guess you’re right,” the younger of the two captains sighs out, “They aren’t really dead, are they? They’re actually harder to kill now…”
Now you really know you’re not supposed to be listening to this. To remove yourself from the area, you quickly begin to walk outside of the main hall, but as you open the door, you nearly run into another figure.
“Huh? What’re you doing here?” Youngmin says as he holds his arms out to steady you as you brake in front of him.
“Oh… I… I couldn’t just sit there…” You explain to him how you feel useless in this situation, that you’d left your room to try and help but found nothing you could do.
“Of course,” he smiles, trying to comfort you, “I know how you feel! The men are pretty excited, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” you nod, not knowing if excited was the best term for him to use. Bloodthirsty may have been better.
“Would you care to join us?” He asks simply.
“What?!” You sputter out, not expecting him to say that. “You mean go on a raid with you? I don’t think that I could—”
“You see, many of my men are out with food poisoning, so we’re a bit understaffed. We could certainly use a messenger, but if you’d rather not, there’s no need to feel obligated.”
“Well, alright,” you nod, remembering that Youngmin’s group had lost the most men due to the sickness, “if I’ll just be a messenger, it should be okay.”
His face splits into a grin and you find yourself on the way to Wonweol Inn to accompany their raid.
After you arrived at Wonweol, you were sent off on several short errands nearby. When you return, you hear Junhui talking to Seungkwan.
“Looks like we’ve hit the jackpot on this one. Not sure if they’re brave, or stupid, for meeting right next to a government building.” Junhui says, glancing at the building next to the Inn.
“I knew they’d be here,” Seungkwan sighs, “After all, they’ve had a record of meeting at Wonweol.”
“Sure,” Junhui says, crossing his arms, “but the night Kwanghyeon gets arrested? That just seems sloppy to me. Aren’t they afraid of looking suspicious?”
“Well obviously they’re somewhat less than normal,” Seungkwan quips, “They are meeting at Wonweol, aren’t they?”
Their conversation is somewhat lighthearted, which doesn’t quite match the subject matter. As you approach, Soonyoung notices you and jogs over.
“How’d it go?” He questions, “Did you see anyone from the Guard?”
You shake your head before answering, “To be honest, I didn’t really see anyone nearby.”
“So, they still haven’t made their move? We told them that we’d be here before dark…”
“Calm down, Soonyoung,” Junhui says as he walks over, lightly slapping the other on the back, “It won’t do us any good if they show up anyway. If this is gonna happen, we’ve gotta do it ourselves.”
“I guess… It’s just that running in on our own seems a little reckless?” Soonyoung frowns, and Kangjoon, who’s on standby behind Soonyoung, nods in agreement.
“It is reckless.” He asserts, “We should wait for the Guard’s reinforcements.”
“If you believe that’s the best course of action,” Youngmin cedes, “Then why don’t we wait a little longer.”
Yet, no matter how long you wait, the officials still haven’t made it.
You find yourself looking up at the sky. The moon inching further across the scape the longer you stay in the recesses of Wonweol.
“It’s getting late…” Junhui murmurs.
“What do you want to do, Chief?” Seungkwan asks Youngmin, “It’d be pretty shitty if we just sat here all night.”
Youngmin had been quiet all this time, yet when Seungkwan spoke to him, he stood up, ready to address his men.
“We can’t wait a moment longer. Seungkwan, Junhui, Soonyoung: you all, follow me.”
Seungkwan nods quietly but firmly as Kangjoon speaks up, “I will secure the front entrance so you guys can have at it.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Soonyoung questions, surprised.
“It’s all good,” Seungkwan quips, “I mean, we don’t want him in the dark and then mistakenly stabbing us you know? Oh, actually… We may mistakenly stab him.”
“What are you suggesting, Seungkwan?” Kangjoon frowns as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.
“Now, now.” Junhui intervenes, “If you want someone charging, we want someone reliable anyways. So, with that said, take care of the outside, Kangjoon.”
“Can you stay away from the Inn?” Youngmin turns as he asks you, “Things are going to get dangerous. That place is full of rebel soldiers. We don’t intend to allow them to escape, but… better safe than sorry.”
“Alright,” you say as he smiles at you, motioning for the men to join him in rushing the inn.
The battle begins in earnest. The yells of men and the clang of swords fills the air soon after the Hwarang make their way inside, the sounds roll out of the doors and windows of the inn.
You can hear feet pounding up the stairs, the screams of men dying and the wet thud of bodies dropping to the floor.
“Damn it!” You hear Junhui shout out, “There’s too many of them! We need backup! Is there anyone outside?!”
There had been moments prior, but all of the men who’d come with the captains had run around back and couldn’t hear Junhui call out. Kangjoon, on the other hand, is stationed outside, arresting any man attempting to flee the building.
Is the only person left to really help you? Your thoughts interrupted when Youngmin yells out—
“Seungkwan! Are you alright?!”
“Damn it Soonyoung! Don’t die on me!” Junhui calls out from somewhere else inside the building.
You have no desire to enter a slaughterhouse, with men killing and maiming one another. Even if you do, you have no illusions about your skill with a blade. You’re sure to be killed before you even draw it.
Perhaps though, instead of fighting, you can rescue the wounded and pull them from the inn. This is how you find yourself drawn closer to the fray, only running inside when you hear Junhui yell out once again.
Inside, it’s pitch black. The smell of blood hits your stomach like a fist. Black masses lay crumpled on the floor; the bodies of dead or dying men. Where are Seungkwan and Soonyoung?
Entering the building had seemed a good idea on the outside, but now that you look around the charnel house, you realize that there is no way you can carry two men outside.
With the fighting going on, and in the darkness too, you’d only be an impediment to the Hwarang should you choose to stumble around blindly in the dark— Looking around the inn, you cannot see a singular face that you recognize. It’s not until an unfamiliar face shouts out at you and raises their blade, do you fully realize the severity of your situation.
Yet, before the blade meets your flesh, another sword juts out and parries it away from you.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Junhui shouts out to the revivalist, “You’re fighting me!” The Hwarang swings again and ends up burying his sword deep into the man’s stomach.
Eyes trained on the blood pouring from the wound and now the man’s mouth, you can’t find it within yourself to look away.
“Would you mind checking upstairs?” Junhui asks quickly, his eyes trained on a few more men stumbling into the main room, “No one’ll get past me. I promise!” With that, he pushes past you and heads towards the group of men, your eyes focusing on the bright crimson trailing down his hand from a cut he’d received earlier. “Get going!” He calls out as his blade crashes against another’s.
And so, you do, quickly slipping by the throng of fighting bodies as you travel quickly up the staircase, your feet thudding along the wood.
The scent of blood has traveled upstairs too, stinging your nose with its metallic tang as you look around the hall. Without another thought, you open the nearest door and run into the room. It seems like this darkened corner of the inn hasn’t been tainted with bloodshed yet, the interior clean and tidy.
“Pray tell, why are you here?” A voice calls out from the dark and you realize you aren’t alone. At the open window, someone stares off into the darkness, the breeze of the night carrying his voice to you.
He wears no uniform belonging to either the revivalists or the Hwarang, just pale-yellow robes embroidered with a flower you can’t make out in the dark.
Even as you stand shocked, you have a plethora of questions; Why is he here? What is he doing? Who is he?
It seems like he hasn’t partaken in the battle, only looking to the streets coated in moonlight as the fighting wages downstairs. He seems calm, almost serene in the way he stands and throws a look back to you.
“Who are you?” You find yourself asking as his reddened eyes pierce into yours.
“Are you the one asking questions now?” A small smile dances along his lips as he only replies with a question himself. “Worry about where you are more than you’re worried about me.”
His words snap you from the tranquility of the moment. Right, he’s an enemy, isn’t he? Instinctively, your hand reaches for the blade at your hip, his brow raising at your movement.
“Planning on joining the fight?” As his gaze lingers on the steel, his eyes widen, “Wait, is that—?” The man now stands facing you directly, taking a step towards you as his eyes remain fixated on the blade.
Just then, the door to the room flies open and a bloodied warrior saunters in, looking frantically to the stranger, “Hey, the Hwarang raided—” His report stops when he lays eyes on you, “Who the hell are you?!” Without hesitation, he reaches for his blade after not recognizing you as one of his own, and begins to swing at you. Although, before his blade can reach your head, a loud shout comes from the first man you’d encountered.
“Quiet!” Almost in a blink of an eye, he’d unsheathed his own sword and charged at the already bloodied man, downing him with a singular strike. Once the man falls to the floor, the closer of the two looks to you, “Didn’t I tell you? You should be more concerned about yourself.”
“Why did you…” Your eyes still focused on the man who lays dead or dying at your feet, “Isn’t he your ally?”
“If he were an ally, I wouldn’t have cut him loose.” His self-possession quiets you as he sheathes his sword.
It’s obvious that he isn’t a member of the Hwarang. You don’t know his purpose here either.
Above anything, his gaze captures yours, enamoring your senses as if he were the only thing that matters right now. His eyes draw you into a lucid hypnosis, filling you with doubt about if he is a threat to you at all.
“…Thank you,” you’re able to say once you regain a bit of composure.
A smirk crawls to the corner of his mouth, “Looks like you have some manners despite staying by the Hwarang’s side.” He’s mocking the men that had taken you in, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to argue against what he’s saying.
“Why did you save me?” Questioning as his gaze falls to the blade at your hip.
“Does that belong to you?” Ignoring your question, he imposes his own. His eyes glimmer almost burgundy from the silver light of the moon refracting into the room.
“It does…” your hand now hovers near the blade as he lets out a soft laugh.
“Then you can thank your blade.” Before you can ask him why, he turns but not before giving you a sly wink. “My business here is done. You can do whatever you want.” He takes his time walking towards the open window, jumping through it without any hesitation or final words.
Your feet carry you to the window, but there isn’t any sign of the stranger. No footprints, no up kick of dirt—nothing. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t aligned with either side here tonight, so then why had he been at the inn?
Standing there dumbfounded, you sense a presence entering the room behind you quietly. A prickle on the back of your neck and you slowly wrap your hand around your blade.
“Are you alright?” The voice of Lee Chan startles you and you spin on your feet. You look at him with a puzzled expression, hadn’t he gone to Jeolin with Jihoon? It’s then your shoulders let go of their tension for a moment, reinforcements had arrived.
𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 2𝔫𝔡, 661 - 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Ever since the raids on both Wonweol and Jeolin Inn, the Hwarang had become stricter on their rounds around Seorabeol, looking for and capturing any of the Baekje revivalists that had escaped that night. Rumors had begun to plague the streets that the loyalists were looking for revenge on those who tried to stop their rebellion. On top of that, the Hwarang were under harsh scrutiny of their opposers in the Crown’s court, despite them having stopped a meeting that was calling for the kidnapping of Silla’s monarch.
Yet as the days creeped more lethargically into the summer, it seems as if the tensions that had arisen earlier in the season were dying down. Life was somewhat steady again. And due to your efforts during the battle, the Hwarang were growing more receptive and encouraging of your involvement with them. A small victory, for sure, but you were now allowed to complete chores in solitude now rather than being watched over by one of the captains. That’s where you find yourself now, sweeping away the dust that had accumulated in the overnight winds in front of the complex.
You’re humming to yourself, brushing the boom atop the agate stone of the entrance when you hear gentle footsteps walking up the stairs to the main gate.
“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls out to you, “Is this the Hwarang headquarters?”
You look up from your work, your lips parting in mild surprise at seeing a familiar face, “It is.”
“Ah, yes- hello,” the man smiles at you, the sunlight glimmering off of the purple silk of his robes, he then pauses, his eyes widening. “You’re…”
“Huh?”
As if he had telepathic means to tell if you’d strayed away from your task, the front entrance of the hall swings open, Jihoon standing in the doorway. He looks from you to the man and then back to you, pausing as if to let you speak.
“Commander,” eyebrows raising in surprise, “This is-”
Before you can finish speaking, the stranger almost gleefully runs to the commander.
“I knew it!” he says, an unhidden delight in his words as he smiles at Jihoon, “It’s me, Seokmin, long time no see!”
“Y- Wait, Seokmin?” Jihoon looks surprised as the other announces himself, “What are you doing here?!”
A laugh from Seokmin, “Are you surprised? I’m visiting Seorabeol with the Crown’s orders.” He waves his hand, “But forget about that. I can’t believe it was you connected to the Hwarang! I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Congratulations, you really followed your and Hoseok’s dream.”
The name lingers in the air heavily for a moment between the two, you’ve never heard of a Hoseok before. Looking at the two of them, it must’ve been at least an acquaintance of theirs.
Jihoon doesn’t let the weight last, breaking it with a small smile. “Come on, if I were to fully do that, I’d be a general by now. The Hwarang aren’t treated much better than the city guard at this point.”
“Still,” a somewhat nostalgic look in Seokmin’s eye, “I’m sure he’d be happy either way. The Hwarang are famous in Seorabeol, and gaining even more notoriety in other cities. With the raids last month, you’ve gained even more popular support.”
Jihoon looks humble for a second, breaking his gaze with Seokmin to look at the ground. “We’re still working on that,” he mumbles out as the other laughs at him.
It was an odd thing to see Jihoon flustered, you’d really only seen a mild variant of his embarrassment when Seungkwan would really get under his skin. But you’ve never seen his cheeks go flush before. With Seokmin’s teasing and knowledge of something that seemed to have happened years ago, it would suggest that they’ve known each other for a while. Are they good friends?
Once you sense their conversation coming to a lull, you speak up, “Commander, can I ask who this is?”
“Oh, yeah. You two haven’t met, I take it?” Jihoon muses and turns to look at you.
“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet.” Seokmin nods, “My name is Lee Seokmin. I’m a Naegeumwi.”
You introduce yourself quickly.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he smiles and gives you a short bow.
Jihoon then gazes at the cloudless, sunny sky for a moment, “We don’t need to talk outside like this, why don’t you come in?”
As the two make their way inside, you set the broom that is still in your hands next to the doorway and scurry off to the kitchen. You return to them some while later holding a tray of tea and assorted goods. After you set down the tray, Jihoon tells you to stay, so you take a seat a little way away from where the two are conversing.
“You said you’re here on Crown orders? What are you here for?” Jihoon asks, his hand hovering over his steaming cup of tea.
“I’m currently working in one of the Sodang units.” Seokmin explains. He goes on to say a few more things about his duties, but you’re unfamiliar with a majority of the lingo they use, so you try to follow along to the best of your ability.
Jihoon, glancing at you and seeing your viable confusion, speaks up, “He’s in the Naegeumwi, entrusted with protecting King Munmu and his family.”
“Oh wow,” you look at Seokmin, “I’m honored to meet someone with such a high ranking.”
“Please,” he says, bowing his head humbly, “I only acquired this position because of the connections my father has.”
“Why would someone with his rank need to visit the Hwarang?” You question Jihoon. While the Hwarang work under the Crown, there was no direct connection, whereas it seems as if Seokmin works quite literally with the king.
“Are you asking why he’d know a bunch of washed-up nobles and commoners like us?” Jihoon asks, almost teasingly. You nod gently, so as to not offend him. “You see, not only is Seokmin a Naegeumwi, but his father’s father was Lee Alcheon.” Once again noting your confusion he clarifies, “A Sangdaedeung under Queen Jindeok some years ago. He opened a fairly prestigious school after his time in office, and now Seokmin here is the heir to it. The school I attended socialized often with the Lee school and that’s how I came to meet him.”
“That’s right,” Seokmin nods, “When I heard that I was heading to Seorabeol I knew that I had to find you.” His eyes shine with admiration towards Jihoon, but the commander just scoffs and rolls his eyes at him.
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Lee,” Jihoon sighs, “And remember: Seorabeol isn’t exactly a relaxing getaway.”
“I’ll keep that in mind… However, even if it is dangerous, it seems even a woman can join the Hwarang?” Seokmin looks at you coyly before returning his gaze to the commander. He judges both the surprised look and glare from Jihoon for a moment before raising his hand to his mouth in surprise, “Was that supposed to be a secret?” He waits a moment, seeing as there’s no answer, he continues, “It’s not difficult to tell. I mean it’s not her fault.”
“I know,” Jihoon’s probably recalling the first he’d met you; he’d been one of the first to figure it out, “Only a fool couldn’t see.” He resigns himself into a sigh, “Her reasons for being here are somewhat complicated, so we’re having her dress as a man for now. Only a handful of men in the Hwarang know of her circumstance, so I’d prefer if you didn’t speak about it in front of anyone.”
“I understand,” the guard agrees.
The three of you talking must’ve drawn the attention of the captains, because as Seokmin was about to begin teasing the commander some more, they slowly began to filter in.
“Seokmin!” Junhui says as he sees the guard, running over to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder, “I thought you’d said you’d visit sooner!”
“We thought we heard your voice somewhere, Wen thought he was hallucinating,” Mingyu notes as he greets Seokmin.
“Junhui, Mingyu,” a smile curling onto Seokmin’s lips as Junhui relinquishes him from his grasp, “And everyone else! Long time no see.”
“Can’t believe you’re in Seorabeol too now, are you here to train?” Junhui asks.
“Don’t be stupid, Wen. I bet he’s here to protect something or someone important, right?” Soonyoung questions as he looks to the guard.
A breathy chuckle from Seokmin, “It’s… something like that.”
“If you’re in Seorabeol, then it must’ve been a good job offer.” Hansol notes, as he looks at Seokmin.
Seokmin nods silently to affirm him while Seungkwan speaks up, “If that’s the case: be careful. Don’t be stupid and go off dying on us.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Seokmin looks to the elder, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“We should go drinking to celebrate someday, hell, we could go now if you want!” Junhui shouts out, eager to get out of the headquarters for a bit.
The rest of the captains surround Seokmin for a while, immersing themselves in conversation and banter with the guard as he, too, seems to get lost in it all. So, he really did know all of them.
“Despite him being in the Naegeumwi, and heir of his grandfather’s school…” Jihoon’s eyes hold a fond warmth as he looks onto the commotion happening in the room. “He doesn’t hold that over the heads of the ranks lower than him. No one can escape his amiable nature.” The commander then turns to you, “Whenever he visits, be sure to let him in.”
“Alright,” you nod, not bothered by that order at all. Seokmin seemed to bring a warmth to the Hwarang men that you hadn’t seen too often, it was probably good for them.
The men spent an exorbitant amount of time regaling about memories and incidents that had happened with their friend, and before they or you knew it, evening descended upon the compound with the orange glow of the setting sun. Seokmin notes this at one point and says he has to depart back to his duties.
“I’ll try to drop by again soon,” Seokmin smiles, a twinkle in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and heads towards the city. You watch him as he leaves, his tall figure becoming smaller and smaller with every step before he eventually disappears down the pathway.
Even if he was an important person and a friend of the Hwarang, he was an enigma to you. Seokmin was assuredly high amongst the bone-ranks, maybe even higher than the Hwarang’s commander, yet upheld himself with integrity and mindfulness to everyone he came across. You’d never been made aware of a noble that was like that before, most adhering to the rigid structure of the realm.
𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s hot. Blazingly so. The city is blanketed by a heat so unknown to you that you found yourself perspiring as you awoke that morning. You’d thought you’d been sick until you walked into the main hall and saw the other captains in a similar state to yourself. There was nothing to be done about it except for staying in the shade or perhaps cooling off by a river.
Yet, that’s not what was in store for you. Ever since your actions on the nights of the inn raids, Jihoon has been much more forgiving in his attitude, allowing you to resume your patrols with the captains. And seeing as Kim Mingyu was about to head out, you decided to tag along.
You regret that decision almost immediately when you step onto the city’s streets, the crowds not doing anything to damper the rays of sun beaming down onto you.
“Mingyu?” You ask as the two of you walk down the street, “The Hwarang patrol both night and day, right?”
“They do,” he nods, wiping the sweat that had accumulated around the headband on his forehead, “Why?”
“Why is it that you do? Wouldn’t that be more of the city guard’s job?” You question as you pass by an armory, the heat of its fires only causing you to perspire more.
“Because most of the city guard’s been called to the front,” his shoulders shrug, “Emperor Gaozong called them to help his forces root out Goguryeo last month so they’ve had a decline in their numbers… I’m not sure when they’ll be back, I heard the King was leading generals to Siigok Garrison so I can only assume it’ll be a while.”
“So, you’ve become the city guard then?”
“I mean, in a way,” he thinks, “We arrest thieves, people who’re looking for fights and who don’t pay for their meals. And then there are those who think they’ll just mooch off of merchants...”
It wasn’t fully the answer you’d been expecting, maybe along the lines of it. The adoption of the guard’s role was something new, but you couldn’t fault them for it if the city needed their swords. Before you’re able to continue to question him, a few men in Hwarang blues down the road seem to be trying to wave Mingyu down. Getting closer to the scene, you can make out Junhui’s figure and a few more Hwarang men.
“Hey!” He smiles as the two of you stand before him, he looks to you before asking, “Find anything about your dad?”
“No,” a small shake of your head, “Nothing yet.”
“Ah, cheer up,” he says, gently hitting you on the arm as he sees your downtrodden frown, “There’s always tomorrow.”
“You’re right,” pepping up slightly at his words. Junhui seems to be able to energize and lighten the mood whenever someone was feeling low, it was something you’d noticed over the course of getting to know him. It was almost as if his optimism was contagious.
“Did you find anything fun, Junhui?” Mingyu questions, probably wondering if there was any more reason for Junhui flagging you down other than wanting to say hello.
“Nothing in particular…” Junhui admits, “But, all of the people on this street are acting really busy.”
You think he’s being a little over dramatic, but a closer observation of the pedestrians and shopkeepers has you thinking a little more critically. There was almost a nervousness, an anxiety, threading itself through the air and in their movements.
“It looks like they’re… packing up?” You observe, eyeing one merchant in particular boxing away his things.
“You think they’re worried about the war with Goguryeo or the Baekje guys?” Mingyu asks Junhui, crossing his arms.
“I thought that the Baekje threat was resolved...?” You say, looking from Mingyu to Junhui, confusion seeped into your voice.
The taller rests his hand atop the hilt of his sword, “We didn’t tell you, did we? Those Baekje bastards have been showing up again, that’s why we’ve been having extra rounds.”
“Even if we did weaken them at Wonweol,” Mingyu frowns, “I can’t really imagine them standing idly around when we’ve put some of their men in the ground. And now that the king’s absent… it’s a little trickier for us.”
“Were the loyalists planning on doing something?” You ask, the way Mingyu had spoken leads you to believe something had been in the works.
“Not sure,” Junhui says with a shake of his head, “Other than what we found out after the raids we haven’t gotten wind of anything else.”
“It doesn’t matter, though,” Mingyu notes, “All we’ve got to do is do our jobs. The loyalists attack Seorabeol, we drive them out. It’s as simple as that.” The Hwarang just accept the cards they’re dealt and never seem to complain.
“If the loyalists continue their stunts, then we’re probably going to get orders from the king to do something whenever he gets back,” Junhui sighs, not knowing how long the sovereign would be out of the capital.
“What do you think he’d decree?” A tilt of your head as you ask, unknowing what more he could make the Hwarang do.
“In the past the Hwarang have fought almost as their own regiment, he might do that.” Junhui shrugs, his hand moving from his sword and down to his side.
“That doesn’t happen too often,” Mingyu nods almost approvingly and then turns to you with a joking smile, “You should join us.”
You laugh at the sudden invitation, knowing full well the offer wasn’t real. Seeing as the female version of the Hwarang, the Wonhwa, had been thrown away since before the Hwarang themselves were even conceptualized, it was a long shot to think that you could march along their ranks. As much as you want to help these men, you’re not sure that they’d fully accept you into their ranks. But if you could aid them like you had on the night of the raids on the two inns, you wouldn’t mind doing something like that again.
“If you want me to go with you, I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shoot back at Mingyu, cracking a small smile at him. “If you need me to help, I’ll do whatever I can.”
His smile deepens, the dimples on his cheeks beginning to show, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if the time comes.”
𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 18𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Excuse me,” you say quietly as you make your way into the main hall, the wooden handle of the teapot in your grasp course on your palm. The heat of its contents rises up to try and weaken your grip on the vessel. “I brought you all some more tea.”
The Hwarang captains and men sit in various spots around the hall, you’re not sure why they’re convening, but they’d been in there for at least an hour discussing some matter at hand.
“Thanks!” Junhui calls out and beckons you over, he takes the pot from your hands and begins to pour tea into his already halfway filled cup, “It’s almost like you’re our servant or something.”
More so a page, but you weren’t going to correct him quite yet. You take back the pot and look around for anyone who might need a refill. Spotting Eunseok trying to catch your eye, you make your way over and fill his cup.
“Thank you,” he says once you’re finished, quickly bringing the cup to his lips and blowing on the warm contents.
“It’s no problem,” you smile, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to disrupt the main conversation flowing throughout the hall. As you’re about to move away, Seungkwan swipes the pot from your grasp, pouring his own cup of tea and taking a drink of it. His face contorts for a moment and you question, “Does it not taste good?”
“It tastes fine, I guess,” his shoulders shrug as he leans back in his seat, “It could stand to be a little warmer though, maybe you’re just taking too long to pour it.”
“Oh,” you frown, taking the pot back from him, holding your free hand to the side of the vessel for a moment to test the warmth, “I’ll go and brew some more.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Soonyoung butts in, motioning for you to hand him the pot, “I like it lukewarm because it’s easier to drink, right, Hansol?”
“Right,” the aforementioned captain nods, “It’s easier to drink on a hot day like this.”
It looks as if Soonyoung’s about to speak again before Youngmin barges into the hall, a stoic expression drawn onto his face.
“The Hwarang have received an official request from the Crown to head to Sabi. All available men must get ready to set out at once,” Youngmin says, a sternness in his voice hinting at a notion of pride somewhere hidden away in its depths. There’s general excitement beginning to buzz among the Hwarang before he continues, “It seems as if they’ve noticed all of our hard work as of late.” It’s then he lets himself break out into a prideful smile; it was clear he was proud of the work the Hwarang had achieved in the past few weeks.
As you scan the faces of the room, there is one in particular that has a sour expression forming as Youngmin finishes.
“We don’t have time to celebrate,” Jihoon says, rising to his feet, “We need to get moving now, so get off of your asses and go!” The captains and other men then begin to follow his lead and stand, “Those loyalists are already in Seorabeol, we need to cut the head off of this snake before it lays any more eggs.”
Once the men filter out and it’s only you and the captains, Jihoon speaks up, “Only when there’s somewhere else to go, they tell us to haul ass?” He shakes his head, “We may not be the Guard or the Watch, but it doesn’t mean we’re any less expendable.”
“Soonyoung and Seungkwan,” Seungcheol says after Jihoon’s done mumbling to himself, “You’ll remain here. I know it’s not what you want, but your injuries from Wonweol are still preventing you from active duty.” You glance to his hand, knowing full well that the colonel would be staying behind as well.
“Speak for yourself,” Seungkwan frowns, clearly perturbed by the orders, “It’s not like my injuries didn’t recover. But I’m not at peak performance, even I can realize that. So, if you want me to hang back, I guess I can…”
“That’s bullshit!” Adversely, Soonyoung points to his forehead, the cut he’d received during the raids still an angry pink where the skin had been slashed. “This is just a scratch, Kwak’s just being too careful.”
“Are you being serious?” Mingyu scoffs at the younger, “I heard you in your room crying about how much it still hurt last night.”
“You bastard,” Soonyoung pouts, “Don’t you want me out there with you guys?”
“Oh, believe me, I do, Kwon.” Mingyu shakes his head, chuckling, “I just want you at your best. Not crying into your pillow because of a scratch. Even you heard him, right?” He looks to you for affirmation.
“HEY!” Soonyoung whines, you think he’s going to clamp his hand over Mingyu’s mouth but the other moves away before he can. “Don’t ask her! And can you try to keep your mouth shut for a little while?” Soonyoung then gives you a sideways glance as if to ask if you really had heard him complaining yesterday.
“...Your injury still hasn’t healed, Soonyoung.” You don’t explicitly admit that you heard his grumblings, even though you had. The band he normally wears with the Hwarang insignia hides the scar well, but without it, like he is now, it’s a stark reminder that he isn’t quite ready for the front lines again.
“Hm, you said you wanted to go with us if we ever got the orders, didn’t you?” Junhui interrupts the lull in the room as he asks you a question. “Are you still up for that?”
Even if you said that you’d join Junhui and Mingyu when you were out with them the other day, you thought you’d been joking, or half-joking at least. It would be risky if you did join them.
“I don’t see any reason why you can’t tag along,” Youngmin says with a nod of his head, “Opportunities for the Hwarang to move under Crown command alone are rare.” While he’s supposed to be the leader of the Hwarang, Kwak Youngmin was very easily swayed by his men’s words.
“What?” Soonyoung says, almost confused as he looks from Junhui to Mingyu. “If she’s going with you, then maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for me to tag along too, right?”
“You’re still not where you need to be,” Junhui says, nudging the other with his elbow gently, “Just stay here and heal up.”
“Are you sure it’s okay that I go with you?” You ask, still not fully convinced they want you tagging along with them.
The captain and colonel sigh at your reservations.
“We can’t promise that you won’t get injured, or worse.” Jihoon says, a distressed glint in his eyes as he speaks to you, “I think you should stay here.”
“Staying here would be an undue burden on the rest of us that stay,” Seungcheol argues back, “We’re not here to be a source of entertainment for you.”
“Seungcheol…” Hansol speaks up, “So, as long as she’s not being burdensome, she’s free to go with us?”
Is he standing up for you? It seems to be the case as Seungcheol looks at him in surprise, his eyes widening at the captain.
“You’re really in favor of taking her along with you?” The colonel asks, his brow furrowing as he tries to understand the rationale.
“She was an asset to us as Wonweol,” Hansol’s shoulders shrug, “Taking that into consideration, I hardly believe that she can be considered a ‘burden’, when recalling that.”
“Great!” Youngmin exclaims, relinquishing the two from their conversation as his hands clap together. “I’ll take full responsibility for your inclusion, that is, if you want to go with us.”
“Do whatever you want to do,” almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Seungkwan speaks up. The two of you make eye contact, and a smaller version of the smirk he almost always has plastered on his face curls to his lips. “Just as long as you know that this is a battle you’re going to, not a party.”
Maybe you’d be able to help them out as you had on the night of the raids. It was a strong maybe, but you couldn’t let that hinder your decision making, could you?
“I’d like to participate,” you find the words falling from your lips before you have the thought of saying them in the first place. Perhaps it was your subconscious speaking for what you truly want.
𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 24, 661 - 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔞𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 (𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔞𝔢𝔨𝔧𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡) Entering the territory of the former kingdom is more eye opening to you than you had ever thought it would be. Rather than the calmness that had been exemplified by the King’s announcements back in Silla, there is an anxious tension wrought in the villages and towns as the Hwarang sweep through. Even though they were only passing by, the inhabitants would warily gaze upon you, the captains, and the rest of the men as if to gauge how hostile their new countrymen would be.
The main goal is to reach Ongsan, a former Baekje fortress that stands on the once border between the two Kingdoms. It seems as if the same group of loyalists from Seorabeol had taken over the now-emptied armament and claimed it as their headquarters. The Crown assigned the Hwarang the mission of expelling them, in a way of their gratitude for their performance on the night of the Wonweol and Jeolin Inn raids.
Judging from what the captains were saying this morning, it seems as if you’re not too far from your destination. You don’t know the layout of this land, the towns are unfamiliar and the faces just as so.
For the most part, the men have been silent, only the odd gripe from one of the Hwarang. The absence of both Seungkwan and Soonyoung are notable, their voices seeming to fill in large gaps of silence when in attendance. It’s not until your troupe stops in front of a walled gate, presumably leading into a city, that Youngmin speaks up. Before the group stands a few other soldiers, from Silla by the looks of their armor.
“My name is Kwak Youngmin, leader of the Seorabeol Hwarang. I am here on orders from Kim Seokmin, an army general under His Majesty King Munmu.” He stands before an officer of the troupe that was already there.
Kim Seokmin is one of the most influential members of the Crown’s court. The father of Kim Mingyu and former Hwarang himself, he acquired favor from the kingship due to his efforts in a handful of Baekje rebellions in the decades prior.
The officer looks confused, his brow furrowing, “You were told to report here? Did you not meet with the men from Unghyeon?”
“Unghyeon?” You mouth the word in the same confusion the officer was expressing. It’s a Silla fortress some distance away from where you all stand now; it hadn’t been brought up in any conversation the Hwarang had had on their trek.
“Several generals and their troops were sent there to convene before the attack,” Hansol leans over to you and whispers, “If we were meant to meet with them, it’s most likely the message to tell us to do so was intercepted.”
“Does that mean they know we’re coming?” You ask quietly, looking around to the other captains to try and gauge what they’re thinking.
“It’s likely they’ve put the pieces together,” Hansol nods solemnly, “But I can’t imagine they have the numbers to rival both us and the other group.”
“This could still get messy, though,” you sigh, hoping the break in communication wouldn’t be but so impactful to the mission.
“Regardless of that, our aid has been formally requested,” Youngmin stands firm as he speaks to the officer, “If you could relay this to your commandi-”
“If that’s the case then I suggest you try and convene with the King’s garrison,” the officer states as he cuts off Youngmin, “We can’t let you in here because we have no idea what’s waiting on the other side.”
“Our orders say to stay stationed here,” Youngmin frowns, clearly frustrated with the lack of cooperation.
“There’s nothing we can do about this, Chief,” Hansol speaks up, stepping over to Youngmin. “If they won’t allow us access here, maybe it would be in our best interest to try and find the others.” It looks as if Hansol was going to suggest something else before Kangjoon interrupts.
“Find the others?” He shakes his head almost angrily, “Kim’s orders were to stay stationed here until we were signaled to enter the city. Why would we ignore a military command when we haven’t received anything to tell us to do otherwise? I think we should remain here on standby.”
“If this was a camp that we were stationed at, that might make sense, Suh.” Hansol states with a frown, “But this is, or very soon will be, the front lines of a battle.”
“Are you really trying to go against me?” Kangjoon nearly snarls back, the mere thought of someone going against his wishes enraging him, “Don’t forget that I’m the Hwarang’s War Counselor.”
“And I’m the leader,” Youngmin interjects, “Hansol’s made a good point. We’ll look for the other group’s camp and hopefully get a better understanding of the strategy at play.”
And with his words, the Hwarang begin to walk along the narrow pathway surrounding the fortress in search of the other group of generals and soldiers that are on their way from Unghyeon. Your group eventually finds the ally camp to the eastern front of the fortress, wooden spikes that had been hastily made surrounding it. A few soldiers come out to greet a few members of the Hwarang as you enter, they might be friends or family members who haven't seen each other in quite some time.
Almost as soon as you’d entered the camp, Youngmin is ushered into one of the tents to speak with a few generals. You’re not sure who’s in there, but with the pallid complexion of the Hwarang’s leader upon his exit, you can assume it had been higher ranks than he’d been expecting.
The orders are now to travel to the Southern Gate, the opposite end of where your original orders had been to go with a general and his troops.
“If these guys say anything, and I don’t think they will, just let me know, okay?” Junhui says as everyone begins to leave the encampment. “Park Kimsu’s not a friendly face around here.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, not noticing Mingyu saddling up beside you.
“What he means is, his father’s an enemy of my father,” Mingyu says, a gruffness to his voice as if he’s recalling something. “His father’s probably the one that sent the Watch out the night of the raids to try and take credit for what we did.”
“That and he’s a major prick,” Junhui adds, “I can’t imagine his men are much better.”
“Come on you guys,” Youngmin says as he slows his pace in front of you three, falling in line to your steps. “We can’t talk about them like that,” he contradicts his words by letting slip a sly smile for a few seconds before straightening his face and resuming his position at the front of the line.
By the time you all arrived and set up your small camp, night had fallen quickly, plunging the surrounding area into an inky black, save for the lights several fires dotted around the site provided. Youngmin, Jihoon and the captains had gone off to speak with Park Kimsu and his officers, leaving you and the rest of the Hwarang to sit around camp with little else to do.
They return what feels like hours later, their shoulders sagging and eyes looking tired as if they'd just run for that time instead of sitting in on a meeting. Eunseok, who had accompanied them, walks over to you with a small and lethargic smile.
“For the most part they’re being cooperative,” he sighs, “The only reason Kimsu was paired with us is because his father asked for it, though.”
“Why would he do that?” You ask with a tilt of your head. Earlier, Mingyu has said that his and Kimsu’s families were something along the lines of enemies.
“I don’t know,” Eunseok shakes his head, “Maybe to rile us up? Regardless of that though, we’re here to watch over the gate and make sure no one escapes.”
“Regardless of that, they’re treating us like reserve troops,” Junhui’s voice is strained as he walks over, his arms high over his head as he stretches. Once he drops his arms down, he speaks up, “They’ve left smaller reserves around the South entrance because the biggest fight is going to happen at the North Gate.” He sounds a little disappointed, as if he were anticipating a big battle.
“We don’t know what they’ll do exactly,” Hansol says as he trails after him, “We may very well see battle.”
But that means waiting and seeing as the sun isn’t to rise for a long time, that means waiting overnight. As the crowds disperse and settle into their tents, you find that the Hwarang, at least, are sleeping in shifts so that if the call to arms were to come at night, there would be someone to rouse everyone else.
“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you need to,” Mingyu says as the two of you sit down to keep watch, the flames in front of you seem like they’re trying to lull you to sleep.
“I’m alright,” trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you shake your head. You’d feel wrong trying to sleep when you know these men could get called to face death at any moment.
A nervous anxiousness coils around your stomach until you find yourself falling asleep later in the night, not awaking until the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon. When you sit up from the laid down position you’d slept in, you notice that the men had kept a silent vigil all through the night. Even as you were drifting in and out of consciousness, you noted that there were men posted around the camp, looking for anything or anyone suspicious.
A little while later a large boom reverberates through the surrounding forest. You first think it’s a crack of lightning, or maybe the subsequent boom of thunder that succeeds it, but the sky is clear today, not a cloud in sight. It had echoed like thunder, startling the birds in the nearby trees, and causing more people than just you to jump in shock.
“What was that?” You question Hansol as he walks past you, seeming to look for someone coming in from outside of the camp.
“It looks like the main army is beginning to siege the fortress,” he says, his eyes narrowing as scans the tree-line. The soldiers and Hwarang within the camp are moving by now,
“Let’s get a move on!” Jihoon shouts out from somewhere deeper in the camp, his voice nearing as he continues to speak, “They’re not going to pause the fight until we get there, so get moving!”
“We were told to stay here,” Park Kimsu says as he emerges from his tent, probably stirred from the commotion outside. The general watches the scramble of men in the camp race for their weapons and armor for a moment before he turns to Jihoon, “You don’t command my men.”
“Our job is to siege the fortress, not sit on our asses and wait for this to pass by,” The commander bites back, he was almost yelling at the general. “We’re here to root out these loyalists, that won’t happen if we just stay here!”
“We haven’t even received orders to push!” Kimsu quips, his brow furrowing at the Hwarang.
“If you have any pride in your position, forget the damn orders and move your men,” Jihoon huffs, straightening the band around his forehead, “They aren’t going to willingly surrender.” The commander and general stare harshly at one another for a moment, almost as if they’re testing each other in a battle of wills. Jihoon, seeing as it was useless to try to neg the other any further, spins on his heels and begins to stalk off.
“Where are we going?” You whisper to Hansol as Jihoon passes by, muttering something to himself.
“To face the enemy head on,” He says quietly, “Which, in our case, means the Southern Gate. The main fight is meant to happen at the Northern Gate so I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to divide our numbers to get more support up there.”
“I see,” You nod, the same nervousness invading your veins once again, it was now riddled with an adrenaline that was probably the only thing making you think clearly.
Jihoon’s rage at the general seems to have roused the reserve troops, who now, instead of loitering around the camp, seem to be mostly readied up. Led by both Park Kimsu and Lee Jihoon, the army and the Hwarang march their way to the Southern Gate.
It was only a short trek to the destination, but the remains of skirmishes that seemed to have happened moments prior litter the ground. Soldiers, dead and dying, lay on the ground, chunks of wood from the gate lay in reddened splinters as arrows, both broken and intact, lay riddled where fragments of the gate’s doors once stood. The group that had come before you seem to have successfully made it into the city, but not without losses of their own. You can see both Baekje and Silla armor on the bodies of the fallen soldiers.
Even if you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you might see, the reality of it all still shatters your heart.
Though the Baekje and Silla forces were nowhere to be seen, had your allies driven them further into the fortress? After a quick moment of assessment, Jihoon orders a few captains to investigate what happened, Youngmin sighing as he does so.
“Had we known a group of Silla warriors were coming in beforehand we would’ve joined them and lost fewer lives.” He frowns as he looks over the scene, looking up once he sees Hansol returning from his survey of the area.
“It looks like our forces attacked the gate earlier this morning, were repelled briefly before the flank on the Northern Gate began,” the captain recounts, looking to Jihoon, “After their forces were divided the army at the Southern Gate was able to advance into the fortress.”
“Do you have any word on what’s happening at the Northern Gate?” Jihoon questions, obviously beginning to silently plan a course of action.
“They’re still fighting,” Hansol nods, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if he can tell what Jihoon’s thinking, “The King’s garrison has yet to advance into Ongsan.”
“Lee!” Mingyu shouts out as he returns from his own survey of the area, running from the direction of the pass to reach the stronghold. “There’s supposedly Baekje reinforcements coming from the west as well, not many, but enough to make a dent in our numbers if we let them.”
Jihoon’s expression of confidence wavers momentarily as he listens to Kim as he approaches, but before he can comment on it, Chan also races over to the group of captains from surveying inside of the fortress.
“Commander,” he starts off, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, glinting in the daylight now hanging overhead, “It’s believed that the men who led this are heading for the heart of the fortress to try and kill the loyalists trying to run for it.”
The commander thinks after listening to the cumulative reports, contemplating as to what the next move should be. Although Youngmin is the recognized formal leader of the Hwarang, you’d come to learn the most major decisions were given to Jihoon to make. This was no exception, the crowd of captains anticipating his orders while Kimsu was speaking with his own men of what to do next.
“It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Jihoon’s lips curve into a small smile after a moment of silence. “Kim, take your men to the pass to deal with any incoming loyalists. Lee, Choi,” he turns to Chan and Hansol, “follow the men into the fortress, but make sure to keep an ear out if Kim needs any reinforcements at the pass.”
There’s nods and affirmations from the captains and officers before the commander turns to Youngmin, “I’m sorry for giving you the hardest one, Chief. Can you speak with the higher ups back at the main camp about a punitive measure for the group that got here before us? As far as both Kimsu and I were aware they weren’t supposed to do that, and I’ll bet they’re doing more in there than just routing out the loyalists. If we’re to do anything about that then we’ll need the higher ups permission.”
While an independently run body from the Crown’s army or guard, the Hwarang still need permission to act under that guise of pseudo-Crown rule and dole out their justice.
“I’m sure I can do something about it, and if not me, my father,” Youngmin nods, a smile forming as he thinks it over. You’re not sure who Youngmin’s father is, but if his son is the leader of the Hwarang, his position in the Crown’s council must be higher than anyone else’s father in the organization. It would still be tricky to gain that permission with all of the Hwarang naysayers and adversaries within the council.
“Eunseok, can you go with him?” Jihoon asks and turns to their youngest member, “Someone has to keep an eye on him.”
“Of course,” He nods, “I’ll do my best.”
Jihoon smiles wryly at him before turning to the remaining Hwarang. “The rest of you are following me into the fortress and to the Northern Gate. As for you,” he looks directly at you, “You can’t go with Youngmin, but other than that it’s up to you.”
You know he doesn’t know where to place you. It’s not as if you’re one of the Hwarang he could command to a role and set you there. Maybe having you decide your own fate was a way to take the burden off his shoulders.
“I’ll go with you, then,” you say after a moment of contemplation. Along with Jihoon, a group of Hwarang, and a group of regular soldiers, you’ll race into Ongsan and try to open the Northern Gate for the King’s garrison to make way into the fortress by suppressing the loyalists inside.
The groups disperse shortly after, Mingyu and his men heading to the pass, Youngmin and Eunseok leaving for the main camp, Chan and Hansol leaving for the heart of the fortress, and then Jihoon and you making way to the Northern Gate from inside the fortress itself.
Jihoon, you and the group of soldiers accompanying you race through the fortress. Seeing it from the outside had hidden how expansive it is on the inside, large courtyards and twisting hallways have your mind running in circles as you slowly run out of breath. You come upon another seemingly empty courtyard before stopping in your tracks. There’s someone standing in the middle of it, someone wearing neither Silla nor Baekje armor. In fact, they are dressed more like a noble than a fighter.
The sun is shining so harshly onto the courtyard as you approach that it’s hard to get a good look at his face. It’s obscured in the sunlight and the light yellow of his robes and the glinting silver of a blade in his hand is doing little to help that. There’s a strange aura surrounding him, almost as if he's waiting for something to happen.
Jihoon, perceptive to that, motions for everyone to stop before encroaching on the character. The Hwarang stop in their tracks, save for one man too eager or arrogant to follow the commander’s orders and charges towards the figure with his sword out. The stranger seems to have only waved his arm once before the Hwarang falls to the ground, the dull sound of his body hitting the stone below echoing around the courtyard, the clangor of battle raging in the distance.
“What the hell?!” Junhui shouts out, shoving his way through the throng of Hwarang and over to the fallen man. The man’s unresponsive, a thick pool of blood beginning to stain the ground under him. The rest of the men, first taken aback by the stranger, now glare at him for the loss of their comrade.
“Commander… He was at Wonweol!” You say, finally realizing where you’d seen this man before.
“You’re Hwarang, aren’t you?” The stranger speaks up, his blade tapping against the agate stone of the walkway, “I can tell because of those blue robes of yours.” He sighs out, “A bunch of pretty nobles playing soldier, aren’t you all old enough to know to stop playing pretend?”
The man’s words are enough to make the already on-edge men agitated. Egged on by the harsh ridicule of someone they’d only just come upon. Each Hwarang, either noble or not, had their reason for joining. Taking their choice into question was cruel and that was clearly painted on their faces now.
“First, you ruin my plans at Wonweol and now you’re trying to play hero,” They snicker, “You’re not even real soldiers, are you?” His gaze travels down to the fallen Hwarang momentarily before lazily and almost arrogantly meeting Jihoon’s eyes, “I’d turn back if I were you, unless you want to end up like your friend here.”
“You’re the swordsman who beat Seungkwan at Wonweol?” Jihoon asks, the tension in the air thick and palpable as he speaks. “I heard you were quite good, but these are pretty big words coming from such a small man.” The smile on the commander’s face is anything but amicable.
“And I heard that you all were talented, for what you are, but this sorry display is telling me otherwise.” The now adversary snickers, once again glancing at the dying, or maybe he was already dead, Hwarang. “The man I fought at the inn; his name is Seungkwan? It’s a bit of a stretch to call him a real swordsman.”
You know from watching the men train that Seungkwan is skilled with a sword, but he had been injured by this man. Is his prowess with a blade more prolific than the Hwarang captain’s?
“Insult Boo all you want,” Junhui stands from the body of the crumpled soldier to face the stranger, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip. “But why did you kill this man?” The hiss of the steel leaving the sheath cries out as he tears it from the scabbard, the captain’s teeth baring. “If I don’t like your answer then I won’t hesitate to tear you down right here.”
“How prideful,” you can almost hear him roll his eyes, “The king says for you to ‘Jump’ and you say, ‘How high?’. Why are you chasing after men who’ve deserted their own movement? Or are you trying to let your own men in at the Northern Gate? Either way, your combatants are going to kill themselves before they’ll let you take this place by full force.”
You glance at Jihoon and the men around him, not even one looking as if the other’s words were outlandish. It seems as if the man in front of you had stopped your assault on the fortress to spare the pride of the Baekje loyalists. From the stranger’s point of view, you can understand what he was doing and why he feels right about it. But that gave him no right to slay one of the Hwarang.
“Is taking someone’s life for the sake of another’s pride just?” You speak up, distraught from this situation entirely, “The only one who can save your pride is you, not letting that responsibility fall into someone else’s hands.”
A grin splits onto the other’s face, “There’s some truth in that, I suppose. Are you saying that I should let the Hwarang demolish any pride these men have just to simply gain favor with the Crown?” Despite the curvature of his lips, his voice is not amused.
“That’s not what I…” The reddish-brown tint of his eyes scrutinizes you as you try to justify yourself, quickly falling away with the harshness of his demeanor.
“Here I was, thinking you were trying to say something intelligent,” Jihoon steps in once your voice trails off, “but you’re just acting like a child. This is war, not a council meeting debating ethics!”
“What did you just say?” Knuckles turning white with the newfound grip on his blade, the stranger questions accusingly at Jihoon.
“The loyalists started a fight knowing their kingdom had been defeated already, and now they’re running away in shame because they’re too cowardly to face the consequence of their actions,” Jihoon argues, a heated tone to his words, “They don’t deserve honor! They’re traitors to their new kingdom by trying to incite a rebellion, you think that deserves an honorable death?”
“You don’t seem like a coward,” Jihoon states, “So are you ready to accept the consequences of what happens when you kill one of my men?”
“Those are some big words,” The stranger says as he raises his sword from his lax position, the gore from the fallen Hwarang still clinging to the blade, “Do you really think you can defeat me?”
The answer isn’t verbal, but a ringing sound as their blades meet. They step back from one another, Jihoon’s grip tightening on his sword as he glares at the other. Now, the commander’s skill seems unrivaled but the thought that this stranger had beaten Seungkwan, the Hwarang’s best swordsman, lingers in the back of your mind as you watch.
Next to you, you can see Junhui reaching for his own sword. If he were to leap into the fight, it would most certainly help Jihoon gain the upper hand.
“You can’t,” you say and reach out, your hand falling onto his forearm before he turns to look at you. Meeting and fighting with this stranger aren’t why you and the Hwarang are here. The mission is to aid the forces at the Northern Gate. It isn’t any question whether this man was an enemy, a dangerous one, at that.
Even if Jihoon can’t defeat him, he would never let the Hwarang abandon their mission, especially after his speech.
Junhui turns away from you and watches the two men clash for a moment more, gritting his teeth and finally pulling his hand away from his sword. “Lee, I’m going to take your men for a second if that’s okay with you!”
“Just go already, loudmouth!” Jihoon says as he once again falls away from the stranger, “They’re all yours!”
“Alright!” Junhui calls out and turns to the men, “We’re heading for the Northern Gate, run straight there and don’t stop until those Baekje bastards have been put in their place!”
The soldiers roar with a renewed vigor and begin to follow the captain.
The stranger huffs something out as he watches the men run off, his hand clenching his sword as if he’s about to follow them.
“You’re not fighting them, so pay attention,” Jihoon calls out to pull the stranger’s focus back to him. “If you don’t, I’ll cut you down from behind instead.”
“Don’t get in my way!” The stranger shouts, bringing his sword down to meet Jihoon’s, the swing causing Jihoon to reel back once receiving it.
Now that there is more of a distance between the two, the stranger’s gaze once again travels to Junhui and the running Hwarang. You think for a moment to stop running with the men and try to stand your ground with Jihoon, but relent after a bit, continuing to go further on with the rest of the troops.
“Keep running!” Jihoon calls out, closing the distance between himself and the stranger, positioning his sword upwards once more.
“You don’t even know your limit,” The stranger scoffs.
You stop for a moment, finding yourself unable to keep up with the men and draw your blade instinctively. Knees locking together, your swordsmanship wouldn’t be useful in battle but maybe, just maybe, you can buy the other men some time.
The next thing you know, a high pitch screech of metal rings out and you’re on the ground. The stranger’s hit had blindsided you, and when your eyes refocus, you see his blade pointing down at you as a trickle of blood runs down your face.
“That blade…” The stranger murmurs, looking to the steel that had fallen out of your grasp and lay only a foot or two away, “A familiar sight indeed.” Their eyes lock onto yours, “Hey, do you even realize what’s happening? The wound on your face is already starting to heal.”
Your hand flies to your cheek, fingers brushing over where the cut should have been, but it has already healed. The pain had stopped and the blood had staunched itself. The stranger’s crimson eyes widen.
“Who would’ve thought I’d meet you here. And a female Demon, no less…” His gaze is scrutinizing, “What is your name? And how did you come across this?”
Before you can answer, a dull clang of metal cries out above you as Jihoon swings his sword from behind while the stranger parries it in front.
“Get away!” Jihoon shouts out angrily, holding his sword, ready to strike again.
“Bastard, stay out of my way!”
“I’m the one you’re fighting!” Jihoon reiterates, “Or do you only prey on the weak? I didn’t take you for a bully.”
“How dare you, you monarchist dog,” The stranger near growls out as Jihoon looks at you.
“Go on ahead!” He says and suddenly, energy jolts through you.
You scramble off of the ground reaching for your sword, urgency picking up your feet as you begin to dash away. Even if Jihoon had been there, you don’t think he’d seen your cut heal, at least you hope he hadn’t.
Demon. One of us.
The words of the stranger reverberate around your head as you run, but you can’t dwell on it now as you run to catch up with Junhui and the other men.
By the time you and the rest of the Hwarang make it to the Northern Gates, it seems as if the King’s garrison had broken through already. There’re skirmishes happening all around the entrance but are soon quelled by the introduction of the Hwarang into the fight. Jihoon hadn’t arrived as the battles waned to a close and the sun began to sink down into the sky. Several higher ups order a few of the captains to look for any remaining loyalists in the compound, leaving you to stand and wait for a sign of the commander or a returning captain.
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” a voice says to your right. You’re met with the face of Officer Jeon, or Wonwoo as you’ve come to learn. Like Chan, he acts as a spy for the Hwarang but typically deals with Yamato forces, but he had accompanied the men to Ongsan this time, only showing how much more this mission meant to the Hwarang. “I know they will.”
You can only nod your head in response and scan the area, looking for one of the faces you hope to see return. Every passing moment feels like an eternity, slowly inching by as the sun sinks lower and lower into the sky.
It’s dusk when you see a figure emerge from the depths of the fortress, the darkening sky obscuring most of their features, but as they near the now lit courtyard you stand in, you can see that it’s a familiar face.
“Commander!” You shout out and race over to him, relief flooding your system.
“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Wonwoo says, following closely behind you as you stop in front of Jihoon. “It doesn't even look like you’ve been hurt.”
In the light of the fires, you can see that the Hwarang hadn’t been injured, but he wears a dark expression over his face.
“I hoped we would have a real fight, but it looks like it was over almost as soon as you all arrived,” he frowns, “held up by a Hwarang opposer, no less.”
“Who was he?” Wonwoo asks, tilting his head slightly.
“His name is Hong Jisoo. I don’t know if his father’s a part of the council or if he’s just a lackey under one of them, but he’s clearly very anti-us.”
“But if he’s still working under Silla rule, why did he try to stop us from going after Baekje?” You question, confused by the swordsman’s actions, weren’t both sides there to stop the loyalists? Something about this isn’t settling right with you. “Does that mean he was betraying Silla?”
“I don’t know about that, but I do think he was trying to stop us from getting here,” Jihoon sighs out, closing his eyes as if to recall the situation, “The soldiers who broke us up were also confused by whatever game he was trying to play. But they didn’t try to command him to do anything after we’d stopped fighting, so he must have meant something to them.”
“He must have some notoriety in their ranks, then,” Wonwoo muses.
“He’s a lazy piece of shit who uses his rank or his money to do whatever he wants, more like,” Jihoon says with a bitter edge to his voice. “If he flaunts that around he has no right to try and teach me what his definition of pride is.”
Before Jihoon can ramble and rant about Jisoo, Junhui and the detachment of men he’d left with returns to the battle site. Junhui stops for a moment upon seeing the commander before breaking out into a large grin. The smile doesn’t last long though as he approaches, the curvature of his grin turning downwards.
“We found a few runaways, but they were already dying or dead by the time we got there.” At Junhui’s words you feel your heart drop. It’s not that you were sad that the loyalists were dead or that the Hwarang hadn’t been able to capture any one of them, only that more lives had been lost in the conflict.
“Honorable suicide, then?” Jihoon nods, not sounding angry at the result. “Good for them.”
“Good?” You ask without thinking, how is that ‘good’? Only hours prior the commander was trying to stop the loyalists from succeeding in that mission, but now that it’s been done he’s lauding them.
“You don’t understand,” the commander says and looks towards you. “As Hwarang, this isn’t good for us. We failed and let them kill themselves. They’re dead, what good would it be for me to ignore what they’ve done? It doesn’t matter if they’re an enemy or my friend, a man who dies with his honor intact deserves at least some respect.”
“I guess that makes some sense…” You mutter, not fully understanding the reasoning or what he was trying to convey.
His expression softens slightly, “The longer you stay with us, the more you’re likely to understand our mindset.”
Now that this group has come back together, you make your way to the campsite to meet with the rest of the Hwarang you’d parted ways with that morning.
The event of the loyalist takeover of Ongsan and their eventual expulsion from the fortress comes to be known as the Ongsan Rebellion to the citizens of Silla. And while the Hwarang had been called to action, their efforts were stymied with unforeseen circumstances and were able to find little in the way of gaining major approval with the Crown. Communication with the King’s garrison and the army alongside him had been poor and much of the Hwarang’s time had been spent waiting for battle with the rest of the reserve troops.
And even when they were called to arms, the Hwarang found a strange opponent at every turn:
Hong Jisoo, who had defeated Seungkwan at Wonweol, had claimed to be a member of the pro-Watch camp of the council during his encounter with Jihoon. It still isn’t determined who his family is and why his stance is so firmly against the Hwarang.
Hwan Minhyun, the man who had injured Soonyoung at Wonweol was also in attendance at the battle. While little more is known about him, he had claimed to be in allegiance with Hong Jisoo.
And then there was Xu Minghao, who also fought along with the prior two men with little mention of his full allegiance.
Whoever these men are, it’s clear to see that they’re no allies of the Hwarang. In fact, it seems as if they’re set to become one of their greatest enemies.
The battle claimed the lives of thousands of men, the king ordering his garrison to behead any survivors they found. Even then, some Baekje loyalists were able to escape westward, further into the territory that used to be their homeland. With the end of the Ongsan Rebellion, the king passes an edict labeling any man that fought alongside the Baekje loyalists to be branded a traitor in the eyes of the Crown and an enemy of the court.
𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 8𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 With the events of the raid on Wonweol Inn and the Ongsan Rebellion taking place within only a few short weeks of one another, it was causing a certain unrest to take hold within citizens of Silla. The Hwarang are doing their best to double up on their work to make citizens feel protected, but with the return of most of the Guard and Watch, it’s difficult for them to receive missions as big as the raids and rebellion had been. And even if they are assigned a task, the Crown overworks them, seemingly wanting to bleed them dry.
The Crown’s approval of any of their missions spreads them thin, even with the newer recruits they’d received from Podang and Gochang, it isn’t enough to keep an appropriate amount of people to instill peace. After many long and arduous meetings, it’s decided that Soonyoung, to slowly introduce him back into his role after his injury, will travel to Hanseong, one of Silla’s northernmost cities, to do preliminary scouting for future recruits.
The burning sun hits your face as Youngmin and you see Soonyoung off, a bag slung around his shoulder having been packed the night prior.
“I’ll be on my way now,” The Hwarang nods at the two of you, “Make sure no one gets in trouble while I’m away!”
“I’ll try my best,” you smile at him. His presence would be missed at the headquarters, even if the other men didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“Find us a solid list of men, it doesn’t matter if they’re nobles or not,” Youngmin notes, putting his hand under his chin for a moment. “But seeing as it’s Gochang, you might encounter more nobles there than usual. I’ll join you there next month to see who you’ve recruited.”
“Isn’t there someone who you’re looking for?” You turn to Youngmin, “I remember you mentioning someone once.”
“Oh, did we not tell you?” Youngmin sounds a tad miffed, “His name is Kim Gongmyung. Classically trained and the rumor is that he’s very well versed in strategy.”
“To be honest, I haven’t met him but only once or twice,” Soonyoung relents, “But at the least I’m sure he’ll let me speak to him.”
“That’s all we need,” Youngmin nods with a small smile, “His father’s on our side in the king’s council, and if we approach him kindly, I’m sure it’ll be within his interest to help us.” The leader seems confident just by his facial expression, but there’s an air of unsureness coming from the younger Hwarang.
“Alright, I’m going!” He lets that discontentment fall from his features seconds later, nodding his head before speaking. Soonyoung then turns to you, “I’ll do my best to find any information on Heo while I’m there, so just hang on until I get back!”
“Be careful!” You call out to him as he turns on his heels, bounding out from the main hall and towards the exit. As you watch him leave, and the smaller he seems to get the further he is from you and Youngmin, the more melancholy you feel. Youngmin looks different though, a small smile residing on his face as he watches the Hwarang set out. “You look excited, are you thinking of all the new members you’re getting?”
“Of course, seeing our numbers increase is great. Even more so if they’re strong and able,” he says as Soonyoung finally disappears outside of the main entrance.
𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 27𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Time passes quickly after Soonyoung’s departure. So fast that the date of Youngmin’s departure for Hanseong arrives with little resistance. The morning before he’s meant to depart, you find him standing in one of the compound’s courtyards, quietly watching the wind pass through the leaves overhead.
“Is everything alright?” You ask as you approach him quietly, not wanting to startle him.
“Hm, oh, hello,” he looks at you with a small smile, “I’m alright, are you doing okay?”
“I am,” you nod, “I’m just thinking about how you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I see,” he says with a short chuckle, “I can’t leave Soonyoung alone for too long, can I? Who knows what sort of trouble he’s already found himself in?”
“I’m sure your absence here is going to affect the men like Soonyoung’s is,” you sigh out, already knowing the feeling of having such a pivotal character of the captains gone for nearly a month now. Youngmin is the Hwarang’s leader. If anything, this will be a larger blow than Soonyoung’s departure.
“It’s only a month,” he tries to reassure you, “I’ve been gone for longer before. And besides, Jihoon will make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m away.” Youngmin probably isn’t aware that his kindness and Soonyoung’s strange but bright personality were things that kept you mentally intact day after day here. With both absent from the headquarters, you’re not sure what kind of emotional blow it’ll have on you.
Your discontentment with the situation must have placated itself on your face because Youngmin looks at you now with a sad, small smile.
“Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?” He questions in hopes that it might make you feel better, “I’m going to stop in Toehwa-hyeon on my way back, did you want a memento from your hometown?”
“Oh no,” you shake your head, grateful for his offer, “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Are you sure?” Youngmin pushes a little more, “If there’s anything I can do for you, and as long as it’s within my power, I will.” You don’t want to ask any more of him, he’s so accommodating already that you’d just feel wrong in asking him to bring you something.
“There is one thing…” You pause for a moment, “Could you train me?”
“Are you-?” Youngmin’s brow furrows as he thinks of your statement, “Are you talking about fighting?”
“I am,” you nod quickly.
“Oh no… I think that would be a bad idea,” he sounds cautious, tentative, “I get really aggressive when I teach, if I ended up injuring you, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”
“I see…” You probably sound defeated, your shoulders shrugging downwards at his words.
“But that statement came out of nowhere… Did you have a reason for asking?”
“If I’m going to help watch over Shoshin while you’re gone, I want to be able to instead of hiding while everyone else puts in the effort.”
Youngmin chuckles nervously at that sentiment, “But you’re not one of the warriors, so I doubt you’d ever have to raise your sword to an enemy.”
“You’re right, but I still want to be able to protect myself if something were to happen,” you insist gently, trying to sound as reasonable as possible.
Youngmin mulls it over for a moment before perking up into a smile, “Well, if that’s the case, I’d love to teach you a few things.”
The leader runs around for a moment, returning to you with a pair of practice swords and two cords so you can tie up your sleeves without getting hindered by them. Rather than use the traditional wooden practice swords of the Hwarang, Youngmin’s opted for the lighter bamboo variant as to not accidentally injure you with the splintery cousin.
“Let’s start,” he says as he stands beside you, his own bamboo sword raised outwards. “I’ll warn you though, the style we teach at the Kwak school and the Hwarang are a little… arduous.”
“I’m ready,” you state firmly and raise your own bamboo sword out to the open space in front of you.
“Then let’s begin with your stance,” he says, looking towards your feet with a scrutinizing gaze, “You mentioned you’d trained before, right?”
“It was mostly for self-defense, but I was taught how to use the blade I have with me,” you say as you look down to your feet, trying to position them correctly.
“Then I won’t have to worry about teaching you a new form,” he notes, “Just get into the stance you’re most comfortable with.”
With the smooth grip of the practice sword in hand, you fall back into the stance you have memorized from all your practice sessions. Your hold on the hilt of the weapon tightens as you await instruction.
“Too weak!” Youngmin shouts out, different from the calm tone his voice typically carries. “If someone’s coming from your front to attack you, the first thing they’ll reach is your sword and your arm. Tighten your grip more or they’ll knock the sword right out of your hand, be wary of that.”
“Okay!” You nod and try to hold onto the sword even tighter, the knuckles on your hand beginning to ache with the strain. It was somewhat endearing to know that he isn’t treating you any differently because you’re a girl.
“Now you’re holding on too tight,” he notices the tremble from the overworked muscles of your hand, watching the fake blade quiver in the air. “Because you’ll be a bit weaker than most you’ll ever fight against, you should try your best to avoid someone attacking you from the front. To do that you’ll need to dodge or redirect the blow from their sword, but since you’re holding onto it so tightly…”
You’re not sure how much time has passed since Youngmin had begun his instruction, but the sun is hanging low in the sky now as you try and retain everything, he’s been teaching you.
“It’s getting late.” He muses after you finish swinging the sword for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s cause enough for you to look up at the reds, oranges and purples that are beginning to saturate the sky. And almost as if you’re pulled from your training, fatigue sets into your bones and causes you to collapse to your knees. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, clothes dampened with sweat, your breath hollow as you try to suck in more air than your lungs allow you.
Youngmin looks over to you as you collapse, his stern expression from training you softening to one of concern. “I’m sorry!” He says, a panicked tone overtaking him, “I got so into it that I pushed you way too hard!”
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, offering him a weak smile, “You ended up teaching me like that even though I’m not your student, thank you.”
“I see,” he doesn’t sound fully convinced, but the worried edge to his voice subsides a bit, “If that’s how you feel then I’m glad I could help.” His face holds a mixture of guilt and hesitation, though, “I am sorry, I haven’t fully trained someone in years, and I suppose I went a little overboard.”
“You mean before you became the Hwarang’s leader?” You ask as you shakily rise to your feet.
“Right,” he nods with a nostalgic smile, “Jihoon, Seungkwan, and Eunseok all attended my family’s school. Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu joined us afterwards, Hansol never fully joined but would stop by often. We don’t have time for it now, but we used to test our skills out against each other nearly every day.”
The topic of the ‘old days’ often came up when the captains were tipsy or drunk on their alcohol. Youngmin’s father had been high up in the Crown’s council when he was alive, but later left to start up his own fighting school, much like Lee Alcheon had done.
“All of that training must’ve been tough,” you wonder aloud.
“It was,” Youngmin nods in agreement, “But it was fulfilling, in a different way than what our work is now.” He gazes off into nothing as he reminisces, causing a pang of envy to invade you for a moment.
“Earlier you said you weren’t my student,” Youngmin says, looking at you, “Since I am technically a master of my family’s school, and I spent today training you… I think that more or less makes you a disciple of the style as well. That would make you a student like a few of the captains.”
His words cause a smile to break out on your face, “Thank you.” Obviously, it isn’t an official method, and it was hardly a full day’s worth of instruction, but it made an unbridled happiness bubble within you. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve taught me today.”
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𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔥𝔧𝔰 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦
pairing: hong jisoo x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: lee jihoon, choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, lee chan, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 15k
taglist: @hipsdofangirl, @reiofsuns2001, @lovrehani
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 ceramic. 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 mouth.
“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-”
“Doyoung,” Gongmyung interjects, “Watch your mouth.”
“My mistake,” Doyoung scoffs after a moment of staring at his brother for interrupting him, “Couldn’t stop myself.”
Kim Doyoung is the younger brother of Kim Gongmyung by blood, and only by the same father. Doyoung had joined the Hwarang with Gongmyung in autumn and had accompanied him to Seorabeol with both Soonyoung and Jihoon.
“He still 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 exits, shortly followed by Doyoung 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 fell 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 at some sort of superiority game,” Jihoon says, his arms crossing over his chest. “Just listen to the bullshit that Doyoung 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 Doyoung 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 as 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 on 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 is 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.”
Anguish comes 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.
“Let’s have faith,” quiet words leaving you as you straighten up in your chair, his gaze flickering over to you, “In both his spirit and strength.”
“Yeah… You’re right. All we have now is our faith.”
𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 7𝔱𝔥, 662 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 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.
“Mingyu,” 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 fully 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 to 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 to 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 stance 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 falling 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, Seungcheol,” 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 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 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 to 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 younger’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 to 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 Hak 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,” the elder 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 knowing 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 my 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 to 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 poses 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 will 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, Doyoung,” you sigh as you stand before him.
“Is that right? Then why did we take someone here who can’t even use a sword?” Doyoung 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 Doyoung, 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.
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 coolly. 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 think to the last time that you saw Jisoo, he’d made a similar note on the cut he’d given you on your cheek.
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 right 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 her?”
“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, Minhyuck slowly approaches you. “Jihoon’s asked me to escort you back to headquarters.”
“Are you telling me to run?” You ask, gaze shifting from Minhyuck to Jihoon, who’s still locked eyes with Jisoo.
“I am,” Minhyuck 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.
You reach for the blade at your hip, wrapping your fingers around the hilt as you look to Jisoo. Both Minhyun and Minghao had displayed superhuman levels of skills; something that still leaves you a bit awestruck. Your swordsmanship can’t be of much hep to your friends, but you need to distract the enemy even for a fraction of a second to let them have their chance.
As he hears you draw your blade, Jihoon shouts, “Get out of here, you idiot! He’ll tear you apart!” His scream makes you second guess yourself and you sheathe your sword, “Chan, keep her out of this! Don’t let her get any closer!”
“You mistake me for the shit I scrape from my shoes,” Jisoo interrupts, “I give you the honor of fighting me, and you talk… Very well.” The man raises his blade to Jihoon once more, “I’ll show you who truly is in control, so you can shut your mouth for good.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Jihoon huffs as he looks back to Jisoo. “I still owe you one for taking out my men at Ongsan.”
“Hmph, I don’t keep track of each and every insect I squash.”
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 respect 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 beginning 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 making 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 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 of 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 the younger, 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 face. “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 haste 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 to 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 know 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 causation 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 anymore?” 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 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 droops 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?” Doyoung 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 Doyoung, “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, Soonyoung,” 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?” Junhui looks to Soonyoung 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 to you.
“What are you doing here?” You question, the grip you have on the broom handle tightening 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 laugher 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 underfoot 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 a little more 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?
Jisoo had said that you have the blood of a Demon…
“Why’s he after you anyway?” Soonyoung asks one the dust settles.
“You know the answer as much as I do,” Mingyu huffs, “There’s only one reason a guy would go through so much trouble over a girl.”
“What?” Soonyoung questions, “What is it?”
“I’ll bet you anything that he’s in love with her.”
“What?!” You nearly squeak out. Mingyu’s response is… surprising to say the least, and it seems to have come from nowhere.
“Why’re you so surprised?” Mingyu nearly laughs, “Sure, you dress like a boy, but you really think a smart guy can’t figure out the truth? That guy’s a bastard, but he’s sharp.”
“No way, he can’t be—” You vehemently shake your head, “That’s not the reason!”
“You might be the only person that feels that way, you know.”
“Why d’you have to bring in your dirty thoughts into every conversation you have,” Soonyoung whines. “Don’t you think now isn’t the best time to be talking about this kinda stuff with her?”
“I’m not bringing my dirty mind into anything. I’m just calling it as I see it.”
You’re unsure of what to say, but your face does feel unbearably hot.
“Knock it off,” Jihoon orders, “Back to work, you two.” His voice lowers, “Also, stop talking about her identity when other warriors are around to hear it.”
Hey I really like the boyfriend text series with svt can you please do a joshua one 💗 ☺️
ᡣ𐭩 HONG JISOO BOYFRIEND TEXTS
pairing: hong jisoo x reader
warnings: cursing
a/n: sorry for the late response, thank u so much && of course :3! (can we pretend i didn't disappear)
