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“Jeonghan one shot”

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x female reader

Genre: fluff [desi setting]

Warnings: no warnings

Word count: 1.1 K

Author’s Note: I am back with another husband Jeonghan imagine, this was actually quite impulsive, and I wrote this at 1 am. I have no idea if this whole imagine made sense or not, but i hope you enjoy reading this small fluff. And i was writing while reading this song, somewhere I felt like this described how much Jeonghan loved her. AND IT’S NOT PROOFREAD

happy reading :)

I walked out of the bathroom and saw, Noor getting ready, more like wearing the red saree. Somewhere I was lost, inside her when she was fixing her saree, and her hair was done with a pretty bun, with her curtains bangs out and making her look so beautiful, as if I was smitten by her beauty. She was literally glowing.

The way her fingers were trying to fix her saree slowly; it reminded me of the day I first saw her in a saree, and she wore a red saree at that time as well. It wasn’t at our wedding, but it was at peheli rasoi. Considering we saw each other in marriage, and the look on her face, made me realize that there was some missing part in my life that I was searching for and I found it right infront of me. The way she looked at me through the flower curtain before signing and saying ‘qubool hai’ three times, was the first time I heard her voice and my heart told me how I would be hearing it for the rest of my life, how I would be waking up to this voice and ending my day with it.

I was still when she moved her hands to fix her pallu, I was still lost in her. She was trying to pin her pallu, but it wasn’t working. I walked towards her, when she looked so focused in her saree.

I held the pallu and she looked at me through the mirror, she looked taken aback, her eyes told me she didn’t expect me to be here. She was about to say something, “let me” and she nodded.

Once her pallu was pinned and she looked at the mirror, my heart almost skipped beat when our fingers touched, she was looking so breathtaking. How does she pull off to look this pretty every time. “and ho gaya yeh” (and it’s done)

“thank you”

“aapke liye kuch bhi” (anything for you) and the smile when she is flustered on her face was something that meant a lot to me. I saw her move her hands to pick up the chain, but I was fast to pick it up. How could I let her do everything when she looked so fine and pretty but mine?

I held her shoulder, and she looked so flustered when I put the chain around her neck, I could say she couldn’t say a single thing because she was very flustered. This was probably the first time I was helping her to get ready, it’s always her who gets ready even before I can admire her in the morning and sometimes I am so thankful for some events or festivals when I see her getting ready in the morning wearing saree or kurti-patiyala or sharara. I love the way she takes my breath away.

“aaj kya ho gaya, you’re helping me today?” (what happened to you today, you're helping me?) she smiled at me, I won’t lie when I say she looks the prettiest when she smiles.

“chain pehena raha hun aapko” I took a pause and told her what my heart wanted to say “Aur itni sundar jo lag rahi hain, thore hi aapko sab karne de sakta hun. Mujhe bhi thori aapki khubsurati ko niharne ka mauka den” she was flustered again. I picked her earrings which were on the dressing table, I helped her with them. Earrings just added lives to my life. If only words could help me describe how much she looked like mine.

I saw the kamarband and picked it up, she was surprised, “Yeh aap kya- I cut her off pulling her waist and then putting the kamarband around her waist. I was too focused on her.

Once I was done, it reminded me how she loved wearing payal and I would definitely want her to wear payal today, afterall she looked so beautiful and I could take my eyes off her “Stay here and give me a second” she nodded. I went to open the wardrobe where I kept the new payal I bought for her. I was waiting for the right time and I won’t get a better time than this.

I went to her and showed her the payal, she almost gasped, “Aapke liye laya tha” (bought this for you)

“Thank you” and her smile was worthless, even millions of diamonds wouldn’t be able to buy her smile, probably because her smile was worth my life.

I bent down and gestured her to keep her foot on my thigh, so that I could put the payal on her. Jab bhi woh payal pehen k chalti thi, mujhe lagta tha meri zindagi chal rahi hai aur mai apni zindagi k samne jhukne k liye bhi taiyaar hun

Once she gave me her feet and I put the payal around her, I got up and looked at her. Admiration was the first thing I could do and it felt surreal that she was mine. Then came love, and she was the perfect definition of love. It felt like my life got meaning ever since she came into my life, her presence was the reason why I was standing here and falling in love with her every second.

I was looking at her eyes and it felt like I was lost in her eyes, her eyes were telling me something with love, we don’t need words to confess or tell that we are falling in love, actions speak louder than words. “aapko payal pasand toh ai na?” she nodded and smiled, “thank you so much” I took a step closer to her and tugged her hair strands and couldn’t resist myself from saying “kitni sundar lag rahi hain aap” She looked at me and gave me a smile.

Oh my gosh. One look at her right now and I realized how much I love her, can she even tell how much I already love her?

God forbid me from falling this hard for her.

I gave her my smile subconsciously while I had her thoughts about how I fell in love with her the moment I saw her behind the flower curtains during our nikah. And how everything she does makes me fall in love with her over again

And in a blink I felt her lips on mine briefly. She ran away even before I could react, my fingers went to touch my lips where she kissed me; I was just standing there processing that she just kissed me like that and ran away even before I could kiss her back.

I ran out of the room, in the hope I would catch her before she could go downstairs, I noticed she was near the staircase and pulled her by her arm, “Where are you running away?” I leaned towards her and kissed her before she could say a single word. I pulled her closer by her waist, she couldn’t just steal my first kiss like that.

Once I let her go, I looked at her, she was way too flustered to speak a single word, so I decided to speak up “I know itni sundar hoke jaa rahi hain, par meri hi hoke wapas aana, meri jaan” and I kissed her once again.

Nothing could describe how much I love her.

and then I met you

[seven]

Pairing: Jeonghan × fem reader × Seungcheol

Synopsis: Falling in love with bestfriend’s ex wasn’t something that Jeonghan planned

Genre: hurt/comfort

Warning: mention of baby bump

Word count: 1.5K

Author’s Note: Finally got the motivation to write, I was having writer's block but here I am. Also I didn’t do proofread yet ><

Happy reading :)

Taglist: @scarlet789 @jjeongddol @shinetogether17

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Aisha was getting closer to Ari, especially after meeting with the parents, Ari wanted Aisha’s contacts, and according to her she got a sister.

Aisha had to choose her wedding dress and after Ari got to know, she insisted on joining, since Jeonghan can’t see her in the wedding dress before the wedding. Ari and Aisha were starting to enjoy each other’s company. There was something about Ari, she liked a lot; the way she made her feel, the whole sister love. At times, Aisha would get overwhelmed but then she would realize she would be getting more of it since Ari would be her sister-in-law.

Since the wedding dates were getting closer, both the families were getting busy, with everything. Jeonghan would tell Aisha to take care of herself more; since Aisha was staying with her family till the wedding.

Aisha was already used to this side of Jeonghan but Jeonghan was realizing slowly that it wasn’t just a friend’s care and it was scaring him. At times he would simply call Aisha because he would be missing her voice and would ask her to take care of herself because that was the only excuse he could give for now. As the wedding date was getting closer, Jeonghan was battling if he should invite Seungcheol or not, somewhere Jeonghan still considered him as his friend but he wasn’t sure if it was the same from Seungcheol’s side or not. The way things went downhill and now calling him on the wedding was more like he was confirming Seungcheol’s doubt into truth or he wanted to show Seungcheol that he could take could better care of Aisha than him. All these assumptions were messing up Jeonghan, somewhere he wanted Seungcheol back as his bestfriend but what hurt him the most was the doubt and the way he assumed that something like this could actually happen between him and Aisha

Out of respect for their years of friendship and courtesy, Jeonghan did send him the wedding invitation but with a letter as a last try to fix things, somewhere he had a hope, maybe he would show up at the wedding and fix everything. Jeonghan wrote to him clearly, ‘This is the one last time I am ever asking you anything, please come to the wedding and listen to Aisha one last time or if you ever thought me as your friend then you’ll give me a chance to speak and you will know that this is all a misunderstanding and how hard it is for Aisha. Please Seungcheol, just one last time. Because somewhere I know that she still loves you.’

Although he didn’t tell Aisha at first; he told her after sorting out his messy thoughts. One thing Jeonghan didn’t tell her was about the letter. And Aisha was okay with the wedding invitation because somewhere Aisha also wanted Seungcheol to show that she was getting married to Jeonghan and she was done explaining everything to him.

*****

“Aisha, are you ready?” Aisha was nervous, she looked at the mirror and then at her mom. “I am” She smiled at her mom and then looked down at her belly. The small baby bump which she could feel, was making her overwhelmed; her mom came and kissed her forehead, “I am sorry for the way I behaved that day infront of you and Jeonghan, if I knew then I wouldn’t have-

“Mom, you’re my mother. You’ve all the right to be mad about this.” Somewhere Aisha was guilty because none of this was planned and the way Jeonghan’s words affected everything and led to the wedding. Somewhere she was thankful to Jeonghan but it was beyond her understanding why was Jeonghan doing all this, and how did they end up like this.

“Aisha…” her mom was tearing up and looking at her, Aisha was trying to hold back her tears. She was getting married, her life is going to change, and the baby is going to have a dad. Aisha was overwhelmed with everything and the way she planned everything with Seungcheol was replaced by Jeonghan, now she is going to be Jeonghan’s wife and Jeonghan is going to be the baby’s dad.

She knew Jeonghan could be the best dad but somewhere all the feelings for Seungcheol which she burnt weeks ago were coming back as a betrayal. “Aisha don’t cry” and she realized her tears were already falling.

Aisha’s dad entered and saw the mother-daughter moment; he smiled at them and walked towards Aisha and hugged her carefully. “You will be an amazing wife and a great mother, I just know it my baby” her dad wiped her tears and kissed her forehead. “Don’t ruin your makeup and it’s almost time to go” Aisha nodded.

“I can’t believe my girl is a grown up already and getting married.” He pinched her cheeks and Aisha smiled. “Let’s go now?” her dad extended his arm and Aisha nodded.

“Please don’t let me fall” Aisha almost whispered, “how can I even my pretty daughter” he gave his happiest smile to her, and the moment the door opened, Aisha walked down the aisle with her dad. She was trying to keep a smile while walking, and on the other hand, Jeonghan had his eyes set on her. The way her dress looked so pretty on her, for him she wasn’t looking less than a Disney princess. The way she was walking gracefully towards him holding the bouquet, he was lost in her; he wanted to tell him that this was wrong but then he wanted today to be his cheat day and think about her and the wedding.

Jeonghan was so lost in Aisha that he couldn’t even see anyone else other than her, walking and holding the bouquet, the moment she came closer, he was tearing up because of how beautiful she looked and how he couldn’t believe any of this.

He had a little hope that Seungcheol would show up before the wedding and fix everything but there he was, standing in the front and witnessing their wedding which simply meant he wasn’t even ready to give anyone one last chance and stuck to his own point, about the whole misunderstanding.

The moment he stepped down the stage and went to take her hand from her dad, they had a short eye contact, before giving Aisha’s hand, her dad spoke “Take care of her, I am trusting you since Aisha loves you and choose you. Don’t let her cry or hurt her, if you ever feel that you’re going to hurt her, return my daughter back to me”

“I will take care of her and never let her cry. I promise” and Aisha was holding back her tears, and the moment her dad gave her hand to Jeonghan, he tightened the grip. Somewhere the word ‘love’ felt so foreign to both of them, because they knew what happened and what was coming for them.

He led her to the center and he looked at her, he could see her trying hard not to cry. He was still holding her hand and drawing circles, when they were facing each other during vows, it was his way of telling her not to cry and stress and that he was here for her.

Somewhere Aisha’s eyes found Seungcheol, she was looking at him. The pain, the love she felt for him was replacing with an unknown emotion, but the betrayal feeling was still there and it was telling her, that she deserved better. Better than Seungcheol.

Because of what Seungcheol did, she could never forgive him; for ruining everything.

After Jeonghan and Aisha’s vows, Jeonghan just heard one sentence which was enough to turn everything upside down.

“You may kiss the bride” kiss? He knew what was coming but he didn’t think it was going to be this nerve-wreaking. He was hesitating, he was okay with hugs and all the skinship that happened between him and Aisha but the kiss was out of the question. But he had to, and he needed the consent before he kissed her. Without her consent, he won’t even make a single move.

He leaned towards Aisha, and he could almost hear his own heartbeat; “Can I kiss you?” Aisha was taken aback because she didn’t even imagine Jeonghan asking for her consent for the kiss. Aisha’s eyes went to that one person who was looking at them with his undivided attention, she had one thing on her mind and that was to tell that one person that she was okay, she was better with Jeonghan now without any regrets because she deserved better.

“Kiss me. Kiss me hard Jeonghan, he needs to see what he came to see”

“I asked you for permission of the kiss not to kiss you as his payback for what he did Aisha” There was a shift in his voice, which Aisha didn’t expect. Jeonghan didn’t want to kiss her as a payback or as a show for Seungcheol, he was genuine when he asked, and saying no wasn’t that hard. Soon, Jeonghan cupped Aisha’s face and put his finger on her lips, so that when he kisses her; he would kiss his finger and not her but it would look like he kissed her.

Once he leaned in to kiss, the crowd cheered but Aisha was confused, and Jeonghan had his eyes closed. He wanted Aisha to understand that he wouldn’t do anything that she wanted as a payback to Seungcheol.

Once he pulled back with a smile, the whole crowd cheered again and the father announced, “And I announce them as husband and wife”

and then I met you

[eight]

Pairing: Jeonghan × fem reader × Seungcheol

Synopsis: Falling in love with bestfriend’s ex wasn’t something that Jeonghan planned.

Genre: hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: mention of pregnancy, morning sickness.

Author’s Note: I am finally back, I DID NOT ABANDON this fic!!

Happy reading ~

taglist: @scarlet789    @jjeongddol @shinetogether17 @caratloves17

If you want to get tagged, you can reply me <3

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After everything was over, Jeonghan and Aisha went back to their apartment. They went to their rooms; the moment Aisha entered the room, she looked around her new room. She changed her gown and wore her comfort clothes. She sat on the bed and looked around her room once again, everything felt so new. She came to Jeonghan’s apartment rarely and every time she came it was with Seungcheol, when they would hang out together but now living with him in his apartment was something different. Leaving her apartment and living with Jeonghan was like leaving her memories behind that one room, which was her comfort.

She kept her phone on the night table and tried sleeping. The moment she closed her eyes, all the events that happened today came rushing to her mind and it played as if she was watching today’s replay. Seungcheol, her wedding, the kiss, and Jeonghan. Everything felt so unfamiliar and the way Seungcheol’s eyes never left hers was something she never expected.

Whereas Jeonghan was in his room, wearing his sweatshirt, today was indeed a tiring day for him but he couldn’t forget the look he witnessed of Seungcheol; there were so many unspoken words between them, he noticed the way he was looking at them when they kissed.

Aisha told him it was over but what was the thing he saw today, Aisha wanted him to kiss her because of Seungcheol and it was beyond his ethics to agree to her. He would never kiss her for advantage, a kiss is something personal and for him, it was more than personal and if he would kiss Aisha then it would be out of love and affection he felt for her. Denying wasn’t a thing now, Aisha is a part of his life now, she is his responsibility now and he knows, what he did.

The night was something for them, which resulted in overthinking.

The next morning, Jeonghan woke up early because he had one important meeting to attend, and making breakfast for them almost became a habit of his. His mom specifically told him what are the things Aisha needs to avoid and what are the things she needs to eat despite how many she tells him that she wants this or that, because cravings are very normal during pregnancy.

Jeonghan kept everything on the table and went towards her room; he knocked on her room, and he realized nothing changed except the fact that they were married and it’s his apartment rather than Aisha’s apartment.

“Aisha?” he called her name, he looked at the time, she usually wakes up by this time. “Aisha?” he was about to knock again but the door opened and he looked at her, she looked so weak. “Are you okay?” the panic was visible on his face, and she barely nodded.

The very next thing Aisha did was to cover her mouth and run towards the bathroom, Jeonghan hurriedly followed her without any thoughts. Jeonghan never witnessed her morning sickness and as far as he knows morning sickness happens from 2nd month till 4th month. He was caressing her back and drawing circles while Aisha was throwing up. He got so worried; once she was done, he helped her to stand up, “Aisha we are going to visit the doctor right now” She snapped her head to look at him; she tried shaking her head in denial. “We are leaving right now, freshen up and get changed”

“I’ll be fine”

“No, you are coming with me.”

“Jeonghan-”

“You’re my wife, Aisha. I can’t risk your health and our baby’s health.” That’s when Aisha knew she could not argue with him anymore, that’s the end of the conversation.

“I’ll go out and will come back in half an hour max and if you’re done then come down, I will be waiting for you.” and he left her room. Aisha looked at herself, what mess did she create with herself.

While Aisha was getting ready, Jeonghan was getting impatient and getting more and more worried with each passing second. He called the hospital he had been planning to register Aisha since the beginning and then took today’s doctor’s appointment for Aisha.

He called one of his colleagues, “Junho, I might be a bit late today, inform the team.” 

He turned his head to see Aisha walking towards him, “I need to go to a doctor’s appointment with my wife” and he hung up, “I am ready” he nodded and got up from the couch, he went to bring the apple juice, he made for her in the morning, “drink this and we can go” she drank the juice and Jeonghan kept the glass on the table.

“Let’s go” he picked up his keys and walked towards the door. And there was Aisha, wondering how her first day after marriage turned out like this; once they were in the car, Aisha didn’t speak a lot.

“Did you sleep well?” Jeonghan’s eyes were focused on the road but his mind was somewhere else, “Yes I did” Jeonghan felt something was off but didn’t push the thing. He remembers his mother’s words, about not stressing Aisha and what are the things he should do and not do, he was taking care of each and everything.

Once he parked his car infront of the hospital, Jeonghan came out of the car and went to open the door for Aisha, “Jeonghan where are we-”

“Let’s go” he held her hand, this wasn’t the first time he was holding her hand but this was the first time he was holding her hand after getting married and naming their relationship. “But Jeonghan this hospital-” Aisha was surprised because the hospital looked more than fancy to her, “this is the best hospital here and I could not risk with you. Your health is the most important one because you’re the mother” she couldn’t argue back once again, he was right, and Aisha could feel the overwhelming feeling building up inside her. Jeonghan was concerned about her since day one and he always told her to take care of herself and he always wanted her to get registered with this hospital and since they have the whole package for whole nine months and then post-delivery care for the mother and the baby; they provide this along with during delivery bookings.

Aisha would have to do regular visits during pre and post-pregnancy.

Once they entered, Aisha’s grip got a little stronger around Jeonghan’s hand. Jeonghan felt Aisha tensing up a little so he turned his head towards her and lowered to her height “It’s going to be okay” Aisha took a deep breath. Once they went to the reception, Jeonghan told them about the appointment and gladly they didn’t have to wait a lot.

After almost half an hour, it was Aisha’s turn for the checkup. Aisha was holding Jeonghan’s hand because she was nervous but she didn’t know why was she nervous.

Jeonghan knocked on the door, and then Aisha entered the chamber. “Is your husband with you?” Aisha was asked as soon as she stepped in, she nodded. The word ‘husband’ sounded new to her, the fact she was married to Yoon Jeonghan and he was her husband now; it wasn’t even twenty-four hours since they got married. “come with your husband” Aisha took a deep breath before turning her head and calling “Jeonghan?” Aisha’s voice was almost timid. Jeonghan looked at her, “Come inside”.

“Please take a seat” Aisha sat carefully and Jeonghan took a seat beside her. Somewhere or the other Jeonghan felt Aisha getting more and more nervous, and he reached out to hold her hand. The moment Jeonghan held her hand, the warm feeling was enough for Aisha in that moment to feel safe and better. Aisha got her weight and blood pressure checked first then they took a seat infront of the doctor.

“So,” she took a pause and looked at Aisha, “Aisha, how are you feeling?”

“I…” Jeonghan saw how hesitant Aisha was, this was their first antenatal doctor visit as husband and wife and this changed the whole scenario of whatever happened between Jeonghan and Aisha, doesn’t matter how Jeonghan always accompanied her to her check-ups as a friend.

Jeonghan looked at Aisha and blinked his eyes as an assurance. “I was doing well, but today morning, I had morning sickness.”

“What did you eat?”

“I had apple juice in the morning”

“Did you throw up before drinking the juice or after?”

“Before, it was… more like… after I woke up… I threw up.”

“Are you stressing Aisha?” Aisha looked so hesitant, “Did you sleep well? Yesterday night?” Jeonghan squeezed her hand slightly and Aisha looked at Jeonghan once then looked at doctor, “No, I couldn’t sleep well yesterday night”

“Was it stress Aisha?” Aisha nodded slightly, “Can I ask why?”

“It’s okay, you can say it Aisha, there’s no harm in telling and there’s nothing wrong in telling.” the doctor was a very softspoken person, and Jeonghan’s support was helping her to stay true to herself

“I cried, I was crying, I was not feeling well, the overwhelming feeling was eating me and stressing me so much that I couldn’t help but just cry. Tears came out without even asking as if my emotions were making me overwhelming me and making me cry so much.”

“Did you get any sleep at all?” she nodded, “I slept around 2 to 3 am” Jeonghan was feeling apologetic, Aisha didn’t mention anything to him about crying and stressing so much, and he didn’t even know anything. “I don’t know what caused you the stress Aisha but if it’s something between the two of you, then I would suggest, try to solve it and not to stress about it.”

“No, it’s not like that” Aisha was too fast to say this, “I- I have nothing to say”

“Aisha, you shouldn’t take stress, it’s not good for you and your precious baby.” Aisha was feeling overwhelmed. “You have to take care of her, make her feel better.” Then she turned her head to look at Aisha “And Aisha you need to watch good things, can be your comfort movies or random cute movies or listen to songs or do things which can take away your stress. Because babies are very sensitive to anything that mother feels and that’s why a mother shouldn’t stress.”

“Okay doctor” both were in sync this time and the doctor smiled, “I would be your assigned doctor from now on Aisha, you can come and visit me anytime. Okay?” Aisha nodded, “It was nice meeting you Mrs. Yoon” and the doctor smiled at Aisha, “Thankyou so much Ms. Lee” Aisha smiled back, and Jeonghan also thanked her. They left the chamber and Jeonghan was still holding her hand.

Aisha felt bad about not telling Jeonghan about the whole episode she had yesterday because of Seungcheol, how her overthinking self; took her to stress so much.

While walking towards his car, Aisha was silent, more like she was trying to find the right words to tell everything to Jeonghan, from now on Jeonghan is not just a friend who was taking care of Aisha and taking her to check-ups, rather he is her husband and he is supposed to know everything.

Once they were infront of his car, Jeonghan let Aisha get in first then he went inside the car, “Say it Aisha, you want to say something” it always amazes Aisha how Jeonghan can tell so many things about her and read her, like how can he exactly say that she’s struggling or stressing or wanting to say anything. “I-I am sorry”

“Why are you sorry Aisha” Jeonghan turned his head to face her, she was looking at him directly, “I didn’t tell you… and yesterday night I was crying, you are supposed to know these… even the small details… about me and the baby-”

“Our baby Aisha, not the baby or anyone else’s baby, it’s our baby, you are the mother and I am the father.” He corrected her and that’s when she saw the genuine look in his eyes, “I am so sorry Jeonghan, I am-” he put his fingers on her lips, “Stop this sorry game, Aisha, it’s okay. From now on, focus on the good things okay? I want you to be happy. Okay? And I don’t know why you were crying but next time if you feel like crying let me know, I will take away all your stress and make you feel better” Maybe Jeonghan knew she was crying because of Seungcheol but he couldn’t risk anything at all, he can’t bring her name back, not after the doctor told her not to stress. And right now, even the slightest thing can trigger her. Jeonghan had one thing set in his mind, and that was to make Aisha smile more than anything and be by her side. She is his wife now; she is her responsibility and he doesn’t want anything to go wrong.

 He cupped her cheeks, “So, don’t worry. I am there by your side only so don’t think too much, and yes, I should know if anything happens to you, okay?” she nodded. “Thank you Jeonghan” he just smiled at her.

“Now let’s go home?” Aisha nodded and Jeonghan started driving back to their home.

On the way home, Jeonghan was thinking how to make Aisha feel better, and the fact she had a breakdown yesterday and he wouldn’t want this to repeat ever again

daisies | yoon jeonghan

ミ★ synopsis: the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. 

ミ★ genre: angst, some fluff, some spice

ミ★ warnings: mentions of vomit

ミ★ word count: 10,089

ミ★ pairings: jeonghan x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi! i was inspired by one of my favorite dramas, the great seducer, and decided to write this! i didn’t want to make it a full blown series, so i instead made a really long ass oneshot. i hope you guys like this though, i think it’s one of my favorites thus far.

ミ★ update 8/1/21: i just edited and added a few parts to this oneshot to make it a bit better ! i added a total of around 2k words throughout the oneshot ? because the original word count was around 8k :p

Keep reading

so precious and wholesome! I love this💗!

✰ seventeen as boyfriends: jeonghan edition

event taglist (send ask to be added): @rubywonu @cinnamoroxie @belladaises @wheeboo @minhui896 @slytherinshua @kokoiinuts @jun-of-love @dandycharmer

pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, headcanons, mini scenario

word count: 531

warnings: one curse word

notes: jeonghan edn. for the 500 event

so, so sweet and soft

the most attentive. is always keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re okay, even if it looks like he’s absorbed in the most nonsensical conversation in the world with seungkwan

it's all an act, bc he's actually paying The Most attention to you, always

that bf who puts his hand over a table corner/ the top of a frame when you’re ducking under it so you don’t hit your head against it. does it almost without thinking i swear

also a teasing lil shit tho like

reminds you every other month of the way you used to be a stuttering mess around him back when you didn’t know each other well and he was just your crush

wiggles his eyebrows all annoying and mimics your voice in a ridiculous pitch as he pretends to be a flustered you

gets hit over the head with your hands/ a pillow/ anything within reach every single time

also: he pretends that he wouldn’t, but jeonghan would do absolutely anything for you.

yields in practically every game if he’s playing against you and you want to win really badly. sacrifices going to see his favourite things first when on holiday if it means he gets to follow you around as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, the grin wide on your face

it’s not like he’s doing nothing that he wants, bc you still go to the beach w him and watch the puppet shows he wants to, but there’s something so much more gratifying about watching your face positively aglow with joy.

“Jeonghan. Jeonghan.”

“Shh, I’m sleeping,” Jeonghan mumbles, trying to bury his face into the pillows. It’s late at night, and you’ve been poking him for god knows how many minutes straight, and he loves you but he also really loves his sleep. “What is it?”

“I just want to know something,” you say, and your voice is clear and awake, making him roll over to squint at you blearily.

“What?”

You shrug, and even in the darkness, your thoughtful expression is visible. He knows that this either means you’re going to spout utter nonsense or something incredibly meaningful. “I just wondered what would happen if we’d just stayed as friends.”

Jeonghan leans his head back, looking up at you as you prop yourself up onto your elbows on the mattress. “Why are you thinking about that?”

“Dunno,” you reply. “Just… what would have happened if, rather than accepting my confession, you’d just rejected me?”

Jeonghan furrows his eyebrows. Even in his sleep-addled brain, that didn’t sound right. “I would never have done that.”

“Yeah, but what if?”

“There’s no what if,” he says, and tugs you back down so you’re lying next to him again. “Don’t say weird things. I wanna sleep.”

You don’t protest as he wrangles you around so you're facing him, his chin resting on the top of your head, arms around you under the duvets. “But what—”

“No what ifs, love,” he says, and his voice gets blurrier as he slips into sleep again, with you safe and secure in his arms. “I was always going to love you.”

Read this while taking a break from studying for my exam tomorrow and it made me smile so much love it !💗

Birthday Mornings

Synopsis: It’s Jeonghan’s birthday, and you plan to wake him up with a surprise. But this is Yoon Jeonghan we’re talking about, so you end up being the one surprised instead.

Pairing: Jeonghan x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, one shot, established relationship

Rating: sfw

Word count: 782

Warnings: none! Lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Happy birthday Jeonghan. I hope you're able to celebrate your birthday surrounded by loved ones.

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Placing the final touches of the special breakfast you made for Jeonghan, you giggle, sneaking in a little surprise. Getting up at 5 am is a pain in the ass, but unfortunately for your sleep schedule, you'd do anything to make Jeonghan happy.

He'd do the same for you, of course; in fact, he's gone above and beyond many times to make you smile. When he's on tour, he stays up at odd hours just to call and ask about your day. In every country he visits, he makes sure to buy something that reminds him of you. Your apartment is filled with little keepsakes, each holding a memory of him. He’s flown across the world countless times just to surprise you, and the moment you mention you're not feeling well, he's at your doorstep within minutes—no matter where he is or what he's doing.

You often wonder how you got so lucky to have Jeonghan in your life. You're a normal corporate slave while he's a world-famous idol. Your two worlds should not have collided, yet here you both are. You still remember the day you met him—or, more accurately, the day you literally fell into his arms.

It was one of those days when you were rushing to work. With your arms full—juggling many things, including a cup of coffee—you accidentally tripped and fell right into Jeonghan’s arms, spilling your coffee all over him. You apologised profusely and insisted on paying for the dry cleaning, knowing his shirt was designer. But he refused your offer and instead asked you out on a date. Still feeling guilty about ruining his (very expensive) shirt, you agreed. The rest was (according to Jeonghan) history. To this day, you're thankful that you spilt coffee on him that day, although he still teases you about it from time to time.

Smiling, you grab the tray and quietly tiptoe towards the bedroom, where you assume Jeonghan is still sound asleep. But when you see the empty bed, panic sets in. Frantically looking around the room, you head towards the bathroom, hoping he's there. Just as you reach the door, two hands grab your shoulders, and a voice shouts in your ear. You scream, dropping the tray in shock.

Jeonghan tries to catch the tray, but it is futile; the tray's contents, including the cupcake you woke up at 5 am to bake, decorated the bedroom floor. You stare at the floor in disbelief. The surprise you so meticulously prepared is now nothing more than a messy glob on the floor.

Jeonghan steps in front of you, pouting as he apologises for what happened.

"I'm so sorry, love. I didn't know you were holding something," he says softly, glancing down at the scattered mess with a guilty smile.

"I'll make it up to you by baking cupcakes with you. I'll even clean up," he offers.

"Hannie, it's fine."

"No, it's not fine! You woke up early just to surprise me, and I ruined it," he protests, his shoulders slumping.

"Han, really, it's fine."

He throws himself into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug and nestling his face against your neck.

"Hannie's sorry. Please forgive Hannie," he whimpers, his big eyes looking up at you with a pleading expression. You giggle, the scene reminding you of the time you had to apologise to him for spilling coffee all over him.

"Hannie, it's really fine. There's still a bunch of cupcakes left," you chuckle.

"There's more cupcakes?" He blinks at you in disbelief.

"Of course, there's more cupcakes. What kind of weirdo only makes one cupcake?"

"Well…you are kind of weird."

"Jeonghan!"

You let out a sigh and shake your head.

"I'm just sad the surprise got ruined," you mull.

"It's not. I can always pretend to be surprised later," he grins as if he's done nothing wrong.

Too tired to argue with him, you simply sigh and agree. After years of dating him, you've learned that it's better to go along with his shenanigans than to go against them. You truly got to know the meaning of the phrase 'if you can't beat them, join them' after dating Jeonghan.

He wraps his arms around your waist and places a soft peck on your lips.

"I already know what my birthday wish will be," he mumbles against your lips.

"What?"

"Spending the rest of my life celebrating birthdays with you," he grins cheekily.

You blush at his words. That’s Yoon Jeonghan for you—the smooth talker, the trickster, the flirt, the cuddle bug, and, most importantly, your boyfriend.

You pull him into a deep kiss, smiling against his lips.

"Happy birthday Hannie."

this is so beautifully written and literally radiates comfort love it 💗!!!

till we get there

pairing: idol!yoon jeonghan x non idol!afab!reader

synopsis: dating someone who always leaves isn't easy and you know that. but jeonghan had always made you feel it would all be alright.

w.c: 3.7k

tags: idol!au, established relationship, sharing a bed, long distance things, fluff, slight hurt to comfort (lmk if i missed anything!)

warnings: npr, profanity, brief description of a panic attack, has talks of marriage and kids, uh his enlistment (please take note that im approaching this as the normal enlistment as it is not confirmed by the company at the moment about which specific branch he's in. also please give way to inaccuracies as i am not also well versed of the exact steps of enlistments)

a/n: i've been so emo for jeonghan and ik you are too. idk he's just so comforting. i feel he's been successful with his desire of being an idol people can feel close to. i expected the enlistment and i do see it as a responsibility he has a citizen but i think it is alright to also miss him even if time will pass by fast! the first one is always the hardest kghjkfd.

i also wrote this with @welcometomyoasis and @svtiddiess in mind. a gift to my jeonghan girlies who are in need of some fluff. I hope you like this <3

masterlist

No Age Indicator/Minors/Blank blogs/Serial Likers will be blocked!

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Jeonghan, it means you’d have to date his idol career too. It was not something you’d have on your strict checklist of traits in your dream man but loving Jeonghan was just so…easy. 

He’s gentle, kind, thoughtful, hardworking, and anytime you’re with him, it’s never anything you’d expect. Sometimes you’re welcomed by the comforting lull of his presence but sometimes, he keeps you on your toes with his little pranks and gestures. 

Loving him just came naturally that you couldn’t even count the cost of his career as something that would make you hesitate a little.

And he’d been so kind to you with it as well, making sure you understood that being with him meant late night dates, less public outings, masks, not being home most days, not being able to frequently meet each other’s families, and schedules that would have to take priority over your pre-planned ones. He wouldn’t be physically present for most of your milestones and sadly, even on days you need him most. 

Jeonghan recognizes it won’t be a normal relationship nor an easy one. He knows that these are all valid grounds to not pursue the relationship at all, but you were so adamant and sure—you love him and he loves you, that’s what you need for now.

It had not been easy, some days and seasons testing limits you didn’t know were there but Jeonghan made it work. He knew you’d be suffering the harsher end of it all (which you argued that he took the brunt of it), so he always makes sure in his own little ways that he wants you in his life. That’s enough for you to keep on, even if he can be a little shit, calling you the names of the seven dwarves in rotation.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just hang out at home? It’s pretty late,” you ask for the third time that night, cautiously glancing around for anyone who might recognize your boyfriend. It would be difficult to, given the time of the night and how he made sure you both wore masks, beanies, and clothes that he wouldn’t wear a second time in public as Seventeen’s Jeonghan.

“I’m sure, Sleepy,” he tells you, patting the picnic mat he rented from earlier, “Besides, we never get to go out often.”

He nods over to his side, coaxing you into sitting with him so you could bask in the sleepy sounds of the city and watch its glow and shimmer along the Han River. Your eyes soften at the sight of him, all bundled up in a thick jacket, mask, glasses and a worn beanie. “I know, but…you just came from practice, you and the boys are tired–”

“-and Wonwoo and Jihoon still hit the gym after while Hoshi went biking.”

He pointedly looked between you and his open arm and you gave in with a quiet sigh. Settling beside him with a grunt, you shuffle into the space he opens for you, tucking you close to himself. 

Jeonghan, compared to the rest of his members, always seemed the most delicate. Yet here, you always feel safe when held in his embrace; whatever prior understanding you had of strength and safety equaled big and intimidating had been cast away in favor of soft touches, sound judgment, quick discernment, and the doting nature of your lover.

The night is tranquill like this, it feels like it's just made for you. Where the world is slower, with the passersby oblivious to his status, leaving you in your own little pocket of peace. You close your eyes and let your soul rest.

“Thank you, Hannie,” you whisper, nuzzling closer into the cold fabric of his jacket. Humming softly, he squeezes your arm and rests his cheek on your head. 

“No need to thank me. I love being with you.”

Whenever Jeonghan leaves for an overseas tour, he always spends the night at yours. It’s rarely anything extravagant, you want him to feel rested and relaxed before the rigorous schedules that follow. He’s always bone tired when he arrives but he greets you softly, sleepily, pulling you into a slow kiss. And while you insist that he hurries to bed, he takes his time and tells you there’s no rush when there’s forever with you.

It makes you blush, sputter and hit his arm because no one’s got forever in them.

But he smiles and tilts your chin, gazing at you so tenderly you think you could cry at the sincerity in them. 

“But there is, Grumpy.”

You don’t argue, but you do bury your face into his neck, skin burning with fondness that bursts from within. 

The night is a quiet affair, Jeonghan gets into your hot shower while you heat up dinner from hours before. He’ll rummage through the drawer reserved for him and get dressed before he goes through your skincare. His skincare line put yours to shame, so he purchased two of each product for you to use; ignoring the fact that your stack of boxes and bags from his ambassador brands are steadily growing in the corner. 

By the time he’s done, you’re both sitting at the coffee table, not the dining table. You feel closer this way, cross legged and snug against each other while you eat. He’ll ask you about your day and sometimes, you hesitate because what’s your life like compared to his? You don’t say it out loud of course, but Jeonghan’s observant and it makes him frown. He chides you with a drawn out ‘Eeeyy!’ and a pinch to your cheek. 

Jeonghan tells you he works the same as you do, it’s not the same but at the end of the day it's still work. He wants to be a part of your life, so whenever you settle with, “Today has been good.” He would follow it up with questions that show you he pays attention to every little thing you’ve mentioned. Did Mr. Lee admit to hogging all the sugar sticks by the coffee machine?  What was going on between your two co-workers and that one guy from HR? Did the stray cat by your building have her litter? Are you thinking of taking one home? 

That usually gets you going, talking to him about everything and anything. He listens to you and you pretend not to notice the tilt of his head or the way his gentle gaze drifts between your eyes and lips. He’d comment once in a while, laugh at your silly side notes, and gasp at the juiciest details of your office gossip.

Jeonghan makes you feel special this way. He makes you feel heard and seen. 

By the time you’re both finished catching up, he’ll only have four hours left before he has to leave. This always makes you feel guilty but your boyfriend doesn’t mind. As much as he’s easily tuckered out, time passing does not seem like a concern to him at all when it comes to you. But you know he’ll be drowsy and he’ll get sick at this rate so it's always up to you to be wary of the time. 

You leave the dishes on the sink for tomorrow and tug him into bed with you. Setting an alarm on his phone, he shimmies under the covers to pull you against him. You smile against his collarbone, giddy at the fact that he smells like you. It tells you that he’s yours, and even if you’d had all those other nights before where you’re tangled in each other’s embrace. It is a strange thought. You told him once that you’re only borrowing him from the world and it’s on quiet nights like these that you’re reminded he is yours. 

However, Jeonghan likes to remind you of that too as he dips his head to press his lips against your forehead.

He would apologize for leaving you again, but before he can get a word out, you’ll playfully tug his hair to silence him till he gives in with a deep chuckle. 

His hair tickles your temples and sometimes, it gets too hot but you don’t let go. You’re content wrapped around him like this, arm thrown around his waist, legs intertwined, and head tucked against his shoulder. 

There’s no long winded goodbye or whispers of reassurance. You’re long past that because you’re sure.

Jeonghan always comes home and he always comes home to you.

Come morning, he’s gone with a ghost of his lips against yours and his pet rock, Doljjong sitting on your bedside by your phone, dutifully watching over you.

“I leave you alone a lot, don’t I? I’m sorry…one day, it won't have to be like this.”

“Doljjongie, watch over her for me, okay?”

You know it's stupid and you know you shouldn’t. Jeonghan has a concert tonight, you can wait for three days before he’s home and tell him about the horrible day you had.

But you’re dry heaving, crying, and shaking and you just want to hear his voice. You want to blame the tears that blur your vision and trembling fingers for pressing call on your lover’s contact.

It goes through unanswered and you don’t call him again.

After all, he must be getting his makeup done and outfit ready by now. You force yourself to calm down, to just shrug it off because you’ve dealt with shit nastier than just a bad day. What frustrates you is that you cannot pinpoint just why you’re affected this badly and that in turn makes you cry more.

Jeonghan’s texts come in after fifteen minutes. And you’re shaking fingers can’t seem to type out a decent reply.

evil queen: hey, dopey, what’s up?

evil queen:  sorry i can’t pick up your call rn. we’re about to go in ten minutes.

evil queen: i sent soobinie a message. i hope everything is ok..you never call at a time like this. 

evil queen: soobin says she’ll come over soon. i love you always. i’ll call you back when were done.

That makes you feel immensely guilty and shy that he has to send his sister to check on you when it shouldn’t warrant that big of an effort on both their parts.

“Hey, don’t say that,” Soobin tells you later, brushing your hair away from your face before pushing a box of take out towards you, “He would be very upset to hear that. And I think he’ll agree with me when I say that if it makes you upset, it matters.”

“But you came all the way here just cause-”

“You had a panic attack,” she murmurs, rubbing your shoulder, “And  I don’t mind coming over. You don’t even have to go through my brother to have me.”

That in turn makes you cry all the more because you just know why your boyfriend is such a nurturing man, his family speaks volumes of their values.

By the time, your boyfriend’s sister is sure you’ll be okay, you’re curled up in bed, significantly better but just hollow. You’re mostly doom scrolling through cat videos and fancams of the members from the concert hours ago. At this point, it's just to ease your mind into a better mood when Jeonghan finally calls you.

You’re surprised with your own swollen eyes and blotchy cheeks when you mindlessly accept the video call. Jeonghan’s fresh out of his concert attire, dressed in the clothes he wore in his selfie earlier today, and it looked like he just entered his designated room with Seokmin. 

Just before you could ask about it, he immediately cuts you off.

“I kicked him out, don’t worry.”

“But-”

“He’s rooming with Mingyu.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean for him to-”

“I told him I wouldn’t go easy on him on the next Insomnia.”

You pause, unable to bring yourself to protest so you respond with a slow nod. Your boyfriend gently smiles, propping his phone somewhere so he could properly pay attention to you.

“Don’t you want to go and shower first?” you ask, a little miffed with how raspy your voice sounds. He shakes his head, eyes boring into your own through the screen.You know he’s tired, he’s always the first to try to leave the stage but he’s alert, watching every miniscule movement you make.

“Soobin told me a little bit of what happened.”

You nod, thanking him for sending her over even if she didn’t have to. Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in protest and you realize that you’d do the same for him too had the roles reversed. 

“Wanna tell me about it?”

His voice is kind, laced with concern and caution as he waits. You appreciate that he always asks, that he never prods when you’re vulnerable. He knows when to be playful and he knows when you need him. But your exhaustion and the late hour of the night weighs your words down that you’re simply not willing to revisit the moment again. 

Shaking your head, you know it won’t help him but you know you have to be honest as well.

Jeonghan is excellent with schooling the emotions on his face, it's one of his most useful skills in the industry. Yet you can see how his face falls when the words leave your mouth. He’s helpless and sad he can’t make your burden easier with a word of advice. His lips purse and he nods, showing you he understands and reassures you in that one gesture that it's okay.

That’s another thing you love about your boyfriend. He has a way of making you feel like it will all be okay. He doesn’t have to hype you up, distract you with a temporary fix of happiness to feel better. Instead, he stands with surety that all will be alright in time and so will you. It's a wonderful hope to have and even more so knowing Jeonghan will be right there with you.

 He knows you’ll hate the silence, and that you can’t stew in your thoughts alone–at least not until he’s around. So he starts speaking in that soft tone of his, “I thought of something today…”

You hum, showing him you’re listening.

“You know how we are often called by the carats as the Iron Deficiency Unit? It was particularly bad today. I felt the ache in my muscles, and my knees feel like they’re about to give out if I do another round of Aju Nice,” he trails off with a chuckle to which you feel your lips quirk, imagining exactly what that would look like. You wait for him to continue, but you see him bite his lips and waver. His sleepy eyes  are hyper focused on his fingers fiddling with the edge of the table and you know that if he had been in a cooler lighting, his cheeks would be dusted pink. Curiosity rises within you but you know better than to prompt your boyfriend into speaking when he is still thinking.

“It made me think. Ah, I’m nearing thirty and my body feels like it’s a sixty year old’s,” he sighs with a sheepish smile and you want to scold him and remind him he’s just tired, that he shouldn’t be too harsh on his own body. But he pauses again, formulating his next words.

“I still want to be strong enough for us, you know. I want to lift you up when we’re married like they do in the movies. I want to carry boxes of our things into our new home. I want to be able to lift things for you. I want to travel places with you and go on those outdoor adventures with you. And when we do have a family, I want to be able to hold them, run with them, and play their favorite sports with them. I want to do all those while I’m still strong enough.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his reflection, and with each word spills from his lips, there’s a small smile that stretches across his face. He was precious like this, caught up in his own little world with you in it. 

You’ve talked about marriage and family before, already at a point where you’re both sure and serious that it’s what you want. Still, when he talks about it this way, all blissful and giddy, like they weren’t mere goals but a precious dream for the both you—it makes you want to cry for an entirely different reason.

“Hang in there for me too, okay? Until we get there.”

Tears blur your vision but you nod vigorously. You both knew that sadness has to pass in its own time, but somehow his words bring a ray of light in the shrouded corner you’ve found yourself backed into. Jeonghan smiles at you gently, and you can see the pain in his eyes of not being able to wipe your tears for you. 

Still, you both knew what you were getting into with a relationship like this.

He carries on, rambling quietly about his day, humming once in a while as he potters about his hotel room and you drift to sleep.

“Good night, sleepy.”

Jeonghan always comes back. It's not anything you’ve ever worried about after the first six months you’ve dated him. You know he wouldn’t leave when given the choice. That’s why you always try to be strong for him, to be calm when he leaves so he knows you will be okay, and that you will be waiting.

“Did you pack thick socks?” you check as you watch him fit his neatly folded shirts into his duffle.

“Yes, doc.”

Jeonghan always comes back.

“How about your toiletries?”

“They provide them at the training institution.”

You hum, avoiding his gaze and focusing on the task at hand which was to help him pack. Your fingers deftly fold through the last of his clothes,and try not to show him how much harder this absence of his will be. 

It will be different from when he goes on tours, he can still call you when the time allows, he’s surrounded by loving staff and members, and you can see what he’s busy with through fancams and magazines. 

Not when he’s enlisting though. There are limitations you are well aware of, and you know it won’t be forever but it's still new to you.

You’ve successfully kept your emotions in check when you watched his father and Seungcheol cut his hair two days ago. You even managed to lightheartedly tease him about it. He clasped the loose strands between his fingers and asked if you wanted to make a doll with it in return.

Jeonghan always comes back.

He zips up his duffle, giving it a pat and you’re standing up to grab his uniform to change into. Until you remember you’ve already laid it out for him on his bed. So you turn on your heels to grab his important documents from his desk. But you already had tucked it into his bag. 

Jeonghan always comes back.

You begin tidying up the corners of his room that will be left untouched for the first two months of his training. Stacking up loose papers, fumbling with the loose wires of his chargers, and righting the furniture. Jeonghan watches you with a ghost of an amused smile at your fool’s errand until he softly calls your name.

And that was literally all it took for you to forfeit your fumbling of his drawers before you whip around and all but launch yourself into his arms. 

You will not cry. You aren’t going to make this harder than it needs to be.

So you burrow into his chest, taking in his scent and warmth that will be absent from you for longer periods of time.  You stay there, holding your breath and holding on to what you can have of him at this moment because you’re not sure when the next time will be. Jeonghan lets you, rocking your body from side to side. He tucks you deeper in his chest, like you could burrow yourself in there, make home in his heart and stay there forever. The fabric of his shirt is soft on your cheek, and you feel his heartbeat steadily thrumming against your ear. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head and says your name again. Your name, not some silly variation he’s thought of at the moment but your name.

“I’m going to say sorry even if you told me not to because you can’t pull my hair anymore,” he chuckles before he’s cut off with a whine at the sharp pinch you deliver to his side. 

“Don’t,” you warn shakily.

He shakes his head, cupping your cheeks in his hands, “But I will. I need to say it. I want to apologize for always making you wait for me.”

“But you don’t have to,” you protest stubbornly, “I knew what I was getting myself into. Besides, idol or not, you’re going to have to go through this anyway.”

Jeonghan smiles at you forlornly, and you’re not used to seeing his face so openly exposed like this without his bangs framing his face or tickling your forehead. Your hand reaches up to rest on the nape of his neck as you pull him into a kiss. It's a soft one, light enough for you to whisper against him, “I will always wait for you as long as you come back to me.”

He sighs against you, tenderly rubbing your cheek, “I will always come back home.”

Your eyes soften at the word, nodding before you pull him back into another kiss. His lips gently meld against your own and you sigh when his tongue brushes your lips and you open for him. He takes his time, a hand on your waist, palm cradling your jaw as he leans in to taste you. 

He pulls away, just barely to rest his forehead against yours.

“Thank you for always waiting for me.”

You smile up at him tenderly, “Till we get there?”

He grins, pecking your lips once more, “Till we get there.”

And Jeonghan’s glad he called you just before you had reached the last drawer of his desk. 

Or else you’d see the velvet box that's tucked away for two weeks, patiently waiting for the right time that will soon get there.

permanent taglist: @najaeminluvbot @automaticpersonabatpaper

H M M M SHOULD I MAKE SONG FICS FROM SVT’S SONGS (bc i unintentionally created my To Feel Love fic to become associated with the Vocal Unit’s song Hug and now i’m thinking hmmmmmmmm

and maybe i can take some requests for those fics with the svt members (or maybe create one for each) 😳 i’m going ballsy today

and maybe i can also just take in requests bc i wanna interact and improve my work 🥺🥺

Red (y.jh)

MASTERLIST

Leaning back in his chair Jeonghan’s fingers carded through his hair before eyeing the letter addressed to you laid. 

It mocked him, that folded paper held his innermost feelings that he was never able to tell you. Jeonghan groaned and threw his arms upwards, shaking his fist to the sky, cursing his heart for betraying him. Returning to an upright position, he contemplated whether confessing was worth it or not. His eyes traveled back to the letter. Jeonghan clicked his tongue in annoyance before standing up and swiping the letter and jacket, heading out the door to your apartment.

His face was a fiery red as he made his way to the apartment, the letter slowly getting crumpled in his nervous (and slightly sweaty) palms.

The usually confident and nonchalant Jeonghan was undoubtedly smitten. 

— starcrossed losers (a teaser) ⟢

at age fifteen, you’re betrothed to a prince named jeonghan. at age twenty-five, you’re set to marry him. so, when your father gives you a chance to find love all on your own, you immediately take it. now if only jeonghan would stop fucking sabotaging every relationship you’re trying to get into.

★ FEATURING; jeonghan x reader

★ WORD COUNT; 1k words

★ TAGS; princess!reader, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, emotional romantic and sexual tension all in one lmao, angst, smut (in the future scenes, this teaser is sfw!)

★ NOTES; so my blog won't die in my absence nd slight inactivity from writing, i decided to leave you guys a snippet of the third n last part of my royalty series <3 as always, content in my teasers are not final and can be subject to change so heads up on that!

this is part of the it’s complicated series.

It’s several hours past midnight when you hear three gentle but firm knocks on the door to your bedchambers. 

Annoyed, you stare at the collection of unopened gifts stacked high on your vanity. From delicacies from the neighboring kingdoms to the most expensive collection of cosmetics in Ancarra, your guests certainly knew how to curry your favor. But not even their lavish presents can dispel the pure vexation that’s been making your blood boil the entire evening. 

Not bothering to answer the door, you whisk yourself into the plush seat tucked underneath the dresser. There’s only one halfwit currently residing in the castle brave enough to disturb you in the dead of night, and with how terribly tonight’s festivities went, you’re in no mood to extend your hospitality to anyone—much less Seraphia’s exasperating, insufferable, scheming—

“Isn’t it a little too late to be testing out swatches, Your Grace?”

You try to ignore him. The way his silken dress shirt dangles half untucked from his trousers. The self-satisfied look on his face when he notices you fumbling with the cherry red rouge you’re applying to your lips. 

But try as you may, you cannot ignore Jeonghan when he reaches a hand in front of you, nimble fingers wiping off the excess color that you accidentally tinted just a few millimeters from your lip line. 

Not when his smoldering stare holds yours captive in the image reflected in your gilded mirror. Not when you can’t even find it in yourself to resist when he gently grabs your chin and forces your gaze to marvel at the man himself.

“Sulking again, Princess?” Jeonghan sneers and you want to hate him for it, but you can’t. “I saved you from a man charged with treason three times in a single decade. Why are you pouting at me like I took away the love of your life?”

“Because you’ve made it your life’s purpose to make mine miserable,” you snarl, putting as much venom into the words as you can. “Minghao isn’t a traitor. If he was, he wouldn’t be sitting on top of the Rènxìng empire. He wouldn’t even be daring enough to show his face here for the sole purpose of courting me.”

He sighs as if meaning to be sympathetic, but you’ve long seen past the ruse. “Poor little thing, still being played like a fool all because you abhor the idea of one day becoming my wife. Tell me, didn’t you find it odd, how persistent he was in pursuing a woman who’s already spoken for?”

“I am not spoken for,” you interject, trying not to crumble from how his thumb lightly dabs at your lower lip. “Not by you. Not by anyone. Father gave me a choice—”

“Yes, of course. Everyone knows the story of the Ancarran Princess who’s chained to a troublesome foreigner. So troublesome that she had to beg on her knees just to get the king to reconsider,” Jeonghan coos, face inching ever-so close to yours.  

“But as it turns out, all the other men you’re trying your damnedest to replace me with are even worse fiends than I.” 

Your lungs burn as if they’ve been set aflame and Jeonghan is merely adding more fuel to the blaze. “You’re despicable.”

“And you, Your Grace, are much too gullible,” he chuckles, each breath fanning hotly against your skin. “I’d say just give it up and surrender, but you’ve been fighting against me since we were children. Putting an end to our very interesting relationship in such a boring way wouldn’t make good for the history books, no?”

All of a sudden, you remember something that Soonyoung told you in passing. How Jeonghan is someone who cherishes his loved ones deeper than one would otherwise expect. He loves his homeland. He loves his family. Above all, he loves his people.

With how he keeps reeling you back from all your attempts to escape your engagement, any other person would assume that he loves you just as much.

But how are you supposed to believe that someone like him is capable of love when all he does is thrive off your misery?

“This new rouge you’re testing out,” he murmurs, as if it’s remotely acceptable to just shift the conversation after what he just told you. “It’s the kind that takes days to remove once it dries, no?”

“In what way does it concern you?” you grit. 

The despicable prince simply hums. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that I’m quite curious about its actual longevity.” 

You can practically hear your heart stutter to a stop when he closes the distance even more—only a hair’s breadth separating your mouth from his. You’re clueless as to how it happened, but you suddenly find your fingers coiled around the front of his shirt. Looking for purchase. For solid ground.

But you should know better than to anchor yourself to someone as unpredictable as Jeonghan.

“If someone were to ruin it in the next ten seconds, would you even be more furious than you are now?” he whispers and you can feel the ghost of a smirk against your lips. “Or would it garner the opposite effect? Would you finally melt into their arms? Would you let them tear all your defenses asunder?”

Your pulse is roaring in your ears and all of a sudden, you can’t remember how to breathe. His intense stare is pinning you in place no matter how badly you want to escape. The scent of expensive champagne lingers on his lips and you find yourself craving for a taste. 

But you can’t. You can’t want that. You can’t want him. 

This is the man who’s made your life a living hell for as long as you can remember. The man you’ll be cursed to sit beside in a throne room forever if you don’t do anything about it fast. 

You know these facts perfectly well, and yet…

Your eyes flutter closed as you hook your wrists across the back of his neck, letting your arch-nemesis fall deep into you.

this is part of the it’s complicated series.

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hi!! do you take requests? cause i cant stop thinking abt jeonghan being rlly rlly flirty with reader (she never responds to it) but when reader flirts back he gets so shy :( and he tries to pretend not to be but his cheeks get red and he gives that shy cute little laugh yk :(( just pure fluff and maybe reader teasing him abt it until he kisses her :(

ahh i love this concept sm!! shy jeonghan:( tysm for the request!<3

such a flirt !

synopsis ; it’s simple: jeonghan knows he’s a flirt, but didn’t realize you flirting back was the key to breaking him.

pairing ; yoon jeonghan + gn!reader

notes ; pure fluff. jeonghan is down horrendous bad. not proofread. i need me a flirty jeonghan tbh

word count ; 0.6k

“My hand is kinda heavy, can you hold it y/n?”

As he asks, Jeonghan is staring at you like you’re the only thing that exists in this world. His pinkie finger brushes every so slightly against yours with the tiniest sliver of hope behind the action.

Not to his surprise, you keep on walking along the park trail, eyes watching the stars in the midnight sky, the only reaction to his question being a sarcastic roll of your eyes and the faintest show of pink painting the tips of your ears. Your hand doesn’t move any nearer to his, continuing to walk in step with Jeonghan but not saying anything to his comment.

Which is normal. Jeonghan expects no reaction further than that pink on your cheeks whenever he flirts—he has been for the past two years. But its okay; just being with you is enough. He likes the look of your smile and the sound of your laugh to his sarcastic jokes too much. A future with someone else walking beside him like you are right now is impossible for him to think about, so he settles for this. And it’s enough. He wouldn’t be selfish.

“Let’s sit down here, I want to look at the stars for a bit,” you venture towards an empty grass field on the side of the trail. Jeonghan places the small blanket you insisted on bringing on the ground for you both to sit on.

“The sky is especially clear tonight,” Jeonghan isn’t sure if your thinking aloud or to him, but he’s happy to listen no matter what. “You can see every star.”

Jeonghan hums in agreement and places his chin on your shoulder, trying to see what stars had caught your eye. You take turns tracing constellations with your fingers on the sky’s pitch black and white freckled map.

“It’s crazy to think that out there with all those stars is an infinite amount of universes,” he says thoughtfully. “And in one of those universes, you could be my girlfriend.”

You look him in the eye. “Or it could be this one.”

Fuck. He was not expecting that.

Jeonghan had no idea six words would come to be the decline of his flirty facade. But the moment they can out of your mouth, the air had increased temperature and he felt just as red as a tomato. He seriously couldn’t recall the last time his entire face had been as red as this. He suddenly was fighting his own hands to not cover his face of its flustered state.

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head, concerned for your best friend’s suddenly quiet aura.

“I’m fine,” he replies in the most normal voice he could muster. “Got kinda hot out here, huh?”

“Not really…?” Realizing what was going on, your worried frown turns into the biggest smile he’d ever seen. “Wait. Yoon Jeonghan? Blushing?”

He lets out a frantic laugh that shakes out of nervousness, somehow turning even more red when you continue staring at him with that smile. “What are you talking about?”

“Aww, was it because of what I said?” An uncontrollable laugh bubbles from your chest and can’t stop. “I’ll admit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this red, Hannie. It should happen more, it’s cute.”

“Since when were you such a flirt?” He mutters under his breath.

Laughing, you cup his cheeks in your hands. “Since now. I like this.” You drift the tip of your pointer finger over his reddened cheeks in a way that make him wonder: what are we?

“Well, you know what I like more?” Jeonghan gently grabs your wrist and averts you away from his red cheeks.

“What?”

“This,” he says, right before pressing his lips against yours.

one reblog = one flirty jeonghan

This is by far one of thee BEST fics i have read for seventeen in a while. Please give it a read! It is literally so perfect i-

@hanniesluvr (written by one of the best <3)

drunk in love | yjh

NSFW | MDNI!!

genre: friends -> fwb -> lovers, angst, smut, fluff

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

WC: 6.7k

cw: drinking, angry jeonghan bc i said so, smut, exhibitionism pretty much, spanking, degradation (he calls you a "slut" and "whore" a couple times :3), unprotected sex, creampie, choking, cucking (poor josh but also he had it coming), pet names ("pretty girl", "baby", and "princess"), oral (f rec), little bit of butt stuff, mc has a LOT of internal thoughts/ dialog lol, possessive jeonghan, possessive jeonghan, and possessive jeonghan. lmk if i missed anything !!

synopsis: when a game of truth, dare, or drink with the boys turns to shit (thanks to hoshi and josh), jeonghan has no choice but to prove himself to be the best dick you've ever had ): (SPOILER: he is. oh he most definitely IS the best dick you've ever had)

! nsfw content below the cut. mdni !

you’ve known the boys for years.

you’d met mingyu back in your senior year of highschool. both of you being on the friendly, outgoing side of introversion, he knew he had to introduce you to his rather large group of friends once you guys graduated.

and wow was your life was never the same.

you had a group of down to earth boys (men) who all looked after you like no one else had. a friend group that people could only ever dream of. no one got upset if you chose to hang out with only one of them for a day, rather than the whole group. if you wanted to go out clubbing with your girlfriends, they all knew you had 13 body guard options to call before heading out. and the best part, your best friend of the group might as well be a professional chef. you never had to worry about going hungry or even cooking as long as you had mingyu around.

other than mingyu, you ended up gravitating toward minghao, jihoon, seungcheol, and jeonghan. almost entirely separate, but sometimes you, seungcheol, and jeonghan would go out on a weeknight for some 2am ihop.

the last thing you or anyone else had expected however, was for you and jeonghan to develop a “situationship” of sorts together.

over the last couple months, you both started developing what you thought were strictly sexual feelings toward each other. now, you weren’t so sure. you knew your feelings were turning into something far deeper than just lust, but you quickly tried to shut them down in fear of ruining your initial friendship with him. tried to. you also were terrified to face those feelings because… you had no idea how he felt. other than the occasional secret or rant that he needed to share with you that he couldn’t share with the boys, jeonghan was pretty emotionally reserved. you had NO idea how he actually felt about you beyond friendly and horny.

until that night.

-

truth, dare, or drink was a game that you played with the boys every once in awhile when you guys were feeling frisky. normally, it came to one of your brains once you guys had already been drinking through the night.

in tonight’s game, jeonghan thought it’d be funny to dare jihoon to lean over and give you a kiss. childish. so childish. you could tell he just didn’t have any better idea in his buzzed brain.

“awww don’t be a pussy, jihoon!” jeonghan taunted him. he was leaning backward due to you being sandwiched between the two boys at the table, jihoon to your left, jeonghan to your right.

“nah i’m not touching her, hannie. you’re funny” jihoon chuckled, throwing back the clear liquid.

“heyyyy rude!” you pouted, crossing your arms playfully, a smile threatening to pull at your mouth.

“tsss…” jihoon put down the shot glass. “jeonghan would kill me, y/n” he chuckled. then, “ow!” he yelled, still laughing.

you whipped your head to jeonghan who was… glaring at jihoon? he’d smacked him upside the head and you had no idea why. you thought jihoon making that comment was just to poke fun at the fact that everyone knew you and jeonghan were basically fuck buddies. however, jeonghan didn’t find it very funny for whatever reason. you playfully pushed his face telling him to lighten up. to that he faintly smiled before putting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together in front of his face. he looked like a cartoon villain. what was he so upset about?

“anyways…” you were the next to talk. “soonyoung! your turn!” you enthused leaning back in your seat to look at the boy to the right of jeonghan.

soonyoung jumped out of his seat before nearly screaming, “Y/N!”

“oh fuck.” jihoon mumbled looking into his lap. you broke eye contact with soonyoung to look at jihoon in confusion.

“i’m so sorry to do this.” you looked back up at soonyoung. what the fuck is going on?

“man i swear, if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” jihoon stood up from his chair.

“what? i have to ask!”

“no, no you don’t.” jihoon’s voice was threateningly low, and you now thought you had a hunch as to what’s about to happen. your heart started to race.

“is it true that you and hoon hooked up at last year’s halloween party?!”

“i’m gonna beat your fucking ass-“

you pushed your chair out blocking jihoon’s path before he could follow through. you shot your arm out for good measure to make sure he didn’t try to pass you. he silently turned around and sat back in his chair.

when you turned back around to face soonyoung, you couldn’t help but feel jeonghan’s eyes burning holes into you along with everyone else’s.

“dude, why?” you asked in a low tone.

“whaaaat the game was getting boring! i had to spice things up a bit,” he teased putting a hand on his hip before pointing his finger in your face over jeonghan’s head. “now answer the question or take a shot missy. either way, we’ll know the answer.”

you glared at him intensely sitting back down in your chair and quietly saying “it’s true,” before reaching for the shot in front of you and slamming it anyways. you needed it. you felt jeonghan’s eyes on the side of your face and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. you just locked eyes with mingyu across the table, knowing that even with his shock, his gaze would comfort you nonetheless. it worked. his face quickly went from a “what the fuck?” expression to a reassuring “we’ll talk about this later” look.

“ahem”

no.

“that’s interesting,” josh said from the head of the table.

“josh!” you, seungcheol and mingyu yelled at the same time. they also knew what joshua had to have been thinking, and didn’t want you to endure more embarrassment.

“ i thought i was your only little secret,” he said in a condescending tone, crossing his arms.

your face was hot. “it happened years ago josh!” you were yelling from your seat. “and we haven’t talked about it since! why are you even bringing it up? who cares!”

SLAM! you flinched. jeonghan had punched the table.

“i fucking do!” he yelled shooting up from his chair. “while we’re here,” his voice dropped, placing his palms on the table, leaning forward glancing at everyone. “would anyone else like to confess to fucking y/n?”

“jeonghan,” you reached your hand up to rest on his arm and you felt his muscles stiffen.

“it’s not like that,” jihoon followed up, trying to reassure him. jeonghan wouldn’t look at him. “it was over a year ago. it wasn’t important then, and it’s not important now.”

“it still fucking happened,” he looked over his shoulder down at you. “and you didn’t tell me about it.” his tone was laced with what could only be described as anguish.

“doesn’t seem like she’s told anyone,” josh pettily adds before taking a sip of whatever drink he’d made for himself before the game started.

now you were the one to punch the table but you didn’t stand up. “dammit josh! jihoon and i both agreed we’d pretend like it never happened. it was a mistake. and it happened years after you and i hooked up so why would i tell you out of everyone?! i didn’t even tell mingyu!” you were shaking in your seat. your breath rapid as you were hitting the peak of your anger induced high. shitfaced josh didn’t know when to stop. sober josh would never even slightly push anyone’s buttons the way drunk josh was vigorously punching yours right now (and jeonghan’s).

“well it seems you told mingyu and cheol about us, so what’s the reason for that? was i too good to forget?”

before jeonghan could even start to move toward him you stood up, forcefully holding him back by his shoulder. he froze. “josh…” you started, still keeping your hand on jeonghan to make sure he didn’t try anything. “i told them because i was fucking humiliated, and couldn’t believe that i fucked you.” you spat. “is that what you wanted to hear?” you could’ve sworn in that moment, all of jeonghan’s tension shifted to josh because as jeonghan found his way back into his chair, josh stood up. it didn’t phase you in the slightest.

“you’re fucking lying, y/n. i had to have been the best you ever-”

“fucking watch yourself man,” seungcheol warned, also getting out of his seat to defend you and jeonghan, his best friend.

“oh what? did you fuck her too?”

“that’s it!” jeonghan shot back out of his chair charging toward him.

luckily seungcheol was at the chair right next to josh and managed to get to him before jeonghan, stepping in front of him as some sort of human shield. jeonghan stopped in his tracks, mere inches away from his best friend.

“cheol, move.” he growled.

“walk away jeonghan.” seungcheol tried to calm him down.

“i’m not walking the fuck away. move or i’ll move you myself.”

“hannie, it’s not worth it,” you chimed in, making your way to him. “he [josh] isn’t worth it. what we did isn’t worth it.” joshua scoffed at your comment. you tried to ignore him, knowing that if sober josh was in there somewhere, he was telling his drunk self to just shut the fuck up and go along with all of it. although you really were ashamed of that hookup. you guys were like 19 at the time after all.

“look,” jeonghan turns around to face you. “jihoon? i get it. don’t ask me how or why, but it’s not much of a shock to me. i can suck it up over that.” he pointed his arm out behind him straight at josh, still looking at you. “but him? fucking joshua?” his voice nearly breaking at the end.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” josh mumbled.

you and jeonghan ignored him.

“it happened years ago hannie.” it suddenly dawned on you how intense this simple game of truth or dare had turned. as you and jeonghan stared at each other in silence, everyone else waiting for what was gonna happen next, you had a million thoughts running through your mind. why does he care so much ? is it because josh is one of his best friends and he can’t believe josh didn’t tell him? is he… jealous? no. maybe?

it was almost like jeonghan could hear the questions in your head. his face turned into something small and ashamed as he slowly lowered his head looking down at the ground. one last thought was about to run through your head. is he like in lo-

then seungkwan broke the silence, clearing his throat. you both whipped your heads to the other end of the table. everyone else still staring at the two of you. “why don’t we just continue the game. no more stupid bullshit, soonyoung.”

you took a deep breath. “i think i like the sound of that boo,” you held your hand out for jeonghan to take and he did so hesitantly. not until the two of you were fully seated did seungcheol make his way back to his seat. everyone’s eyes moved to josh still standing at the end of table… waiting for him to sit.

“josh?” mingyu spoke up. it was almost like he snapped him out of a trance.

“yeah! yeah let’s keep playing,” he blurted sitting back down.

“alright well i guess it’s my turn then,” seungcheol nervously chuckled. “jun! i dare you to take a shot!”

“what?” jun laughed. collectively the tension in the room withered away as everyone started laughing softly, giving seungcheol confused looks, except for josh. he just sat, straight faced.

“yeah, you’ve barely drank tonight! cmon! either way you have to take a shot soooo…” seokmin added.

“okay okay,” jun smiled while leaning over the table for the bottle.

once he took the shot, everyone carefully looked to joshua who was clearly faking his enthusiasm now. “okay well… i gotta go with y/n!” he said in such a deceptively happy tone, you knew he wasn’t over what had just finally ended for you and literally everyone else at the table.

vernon spoke up for the first time since his last turn probably 15 minutes ago, “please don’t be a dick dude.” he casually took a sip of his drink.

“don’t worry, don’t worryyyy. i just gotta ask her something.”

you watched jeonghan’s face as he stared at his drink in front of him. his jaw was clenched so tight you thought he might shatter his teeth. you put your hand on his thigh under the table to silently tell him you wish josh would shut up just as bad as he did. “why don’t you just leave her alone man?” jeonghan asked calmly not looking away from his glass.

“well i would but there’s just this burning question i have in my head that i can’t shake,” josh was slurring a bit but still thinking about his next words wisely. “y/n,” he was staring into your soul, and you did the same to him, not backing down. “was i not the best you’ve ever had?”

“no,” you immediately answered. “no you weren’t. why do you think i never mentioned it again?” jeonghan smiled to himself looking down in his lap, grabbing your hand that was on his thigh. the gesture was oddly sweet in this bitter situation.

“oh? well then who was the best hm?” josh followed up.

“oh, jeonghan! hands down,” you didn’t even hesitate. his grip on your hand tightened, the grin on his face widening as his eyes stayed locked in his lap. you even heard jihoon softly chuckle behind you.

“bullshit,” josh accused. jeonghan quickly looked up at him, tilting his head ever so slightly. “no way he’s giving it to you better than i did.”

after that comment, everyone collectively started yelling at him to just go to sleep or leave the game, anything to get him to stop his petty remarks. including you. you were still yelling when jeonghan turned to you, cupping your face, “shut the fuck up,” he whispered before grabbing your wrist and forcefully pulling you away from the table. he stopped at the end by josh’s chair.

“fine!” jeonghan exclaimed, silencing everyone. he then leaned in to josh’s ear, “i’ll just let you hear how much better im giving it to her.” and with that jeonghan was dragging you up the stairs at an aggressive pace, not even giving anyone the opportunity to respond.

once you reached the top of the stair case he spun you around in front of him so you were walking backwards. you passed the banister as he started taking off your shirt. your bare chest on display for anyone to see had they looked up from the table down below. you couldn’t care less.

“kiss me,” you whimpered trying not to stumble backward as he’s fondling with the button of your pants. he obeyed, eagerly crashing his lips into yours as you both neared his room. he started turning you to the left and you knew you’d reached your destination. he didn’t push you all the way into his room though.

“if it gets to be too much say ‘stop’,” he breathed before pushing you against his open door and dropping to his knees, immediately pulling your pants down. you stepped out of them without a second thought. is he just gonna fuck me against his open bedroom door?

“fuck!” you gasped out as he dove in after your clothed core. i guess the answer is yes.

“jesus y/n,” he growled moving your underwear to the side. “you’re fucking soaked already,” he continued to lap at your pussy, the annoying fabric now out of the way.

“mmm liked you getting m-mad,” you whispered, not wanting the others to hear your confession. you knew it sounded pathetic.

jeonghan groaned into you in response. you liked him fuming over the thought of someone else fucking you better than he did? if his dick wasn’t pushing to break free from his sweats before, it sure was now.

“fuck, you’re such a slut y/n,” he slurred, now grabbing at your underwear, ripping it on each side down the seams and throwing them right across the hall into josh’s open room.

“hannie what the fuck?” you bemoaned. you’d just bought the lacy fabric the other day for him to admire, not ruin. the fact that he threw them in josh’s room couldn’t be less of a concern to you right now.

he stood up putting his hand around your neck, firmly pressing you against the door. “what?” he asked innocently, taunting you before crashing his lips back into yours. you moaned into the kiss, desperate for him to touch you again.

as if he’d read your mind, he used his free hand to pull down the waistband of his sweats, finally letting his dick breathe. he put his cock in between your legs, basically fucking your thighs. the subtle friction against your clit was enough to send you spiraling. you were over his teasing and torture.

“hannie, please,” you panted.

“please what?” he mocked, still rutting against the heat between your legs.

“please fuck me,” you whined.

it wasn’t good enough for him. “what? i’m sorry baby,” baby? “i don’t think josh can hear you.”

you were suddenly reminded of the circumstances surrounding the current situation you were in. you felt yourself turn beet red.

“remember, you can tell me to stop,” he whispered to you, noticing your complexion.

“no, no don’t stop,” you begged.

he smiled maniacally. “okay. so again, i don’t think josh could hear what you said,” his voice rising in the second half.

“please jeonghan, please fuck me. please!” you cried, knowing damn well that josh and unfortunately, everyone else could hear your desperate words.

“such a good little whore for me aren’t you?” his grip on your neck tightened, his other hand grabbing his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. you lifted your leg to give him easier access.

he pushed past your folds and you winced at the slight stretch, but you fit jeonghan like a glove. ever since the first time you guys had sex it almost felt like you were… made for each other in a way.

“you okay?” he nearly wheezed, trying to hold himself back from going completely animalistic on you in this moment. wanting to claim you as his for everyone to hear… for josh to hear.

fuck josh…

he barely let you nod your head before snapping his hips, thrusting his cock into you so fast you swear you saw stars. the squeal that escaped your throat was something of pure filth and you knew that by this point, josh had to have felt like a fucking idiot for everything he said.

jeonghan moved his hands to your thighs, hoisting you up, your back still flat against his door, his cock buried deep inside you. “i’m going to absolutely ruin you and your pretty little pussy,” he fucked himself deeper into you if that was even possible, “not even gonna be able to walk back down these stairs without my help,” he panted.

“mmmph hannie~” were your last whimpering words before he started brutally fucking himself in and out of your sopping cunt. you were a blubbering mess, whining and crying out like a bitch in heat.

“dammit y/n how are you always this t-tight,” jeonghan groaned before swallowing your sounds in a sloppy, wet kiss. his tongue desperately darted into your mouth to dance with yours and you were more than willing to let it in. your tongues danced together not so elegantly as his dick was thrusting into you with determination, his door thudding against the wall to the rhythm he’d set, and you moaning uncontrollably into his mouth.

you started to wonder what everyone downstairs was doing. especially josh.

“mmm wait wait wait hannie wait,” you put your hands on his shoulders putting enough distance between your bodies just to speak.

“i-i feel bad for everyone downstairs. should we keep doing this?” you whispered, giggling a little as the gravity of the situation really started weighing on you.

“i really don’t give a fuck about everyone downstairs.” he kissed you deeply. “unless it really makes you uncomfortable, then we’ll stop.”

“i’m not really uncomfortable just… feel bad.”

“well don’t. and remember how this all started?”

he was right.

“you’re right,” you threw your arms around his neck, attacking his lips with your own, taking control of the situation.

he let your legs down, now gripping your waist, pulling your naked body closer to him. you spun the two of you around so he was against the door. you pulled away from your kiss to lift his shirt over his head and throw it into his room. you then dropped to your knees, almost mirroring his actions from earlier. you pulled his sweats and underwear down to his ankles and he kicked them off to the side.

“fuck hannie,” you moaned, clenched around nothing as you were eye level with his cock. jeonghan could’ve came just at the sight of you gawking over his dick beneath him.

“y/n as much as i’d love to feel your mouth around me, i need to fuck you properly and i need to do it now,” he cooed cupping your face. he traced his thumb across your lip and you took it into you mouth, sucking on it like a binkie. “fuck, you’re such a fucking slut y/n,” he ripped his hand from your mouth. “on the bed. now.”

you started to stand up but he stopped you, “no, crawl.” you did exactly as you were told and crawled your way to the foot of his bed.

you could predict he’d want you on all fours, but you didn’t want to assume, so you sat on the edge of his bed waiting for further instructions.

“you know how i want you.” he was making his way toward you.

you quickly turned around on your knees and lowered yourself so your face and arms were flat on the bed and your ass was in the air.

when jeonghan got within arms length of your body, without hesitation he slapped your right ass cheek before grabbing it tightly, his left hand doing the same to the other side. you just yelped and balled up the sheets in your fists.

spreading you so wide you thought you might split, he speaks again. “there’s so much more of you that i want to explore, y/n,” he mumbled lining himself up with your aching core once again.

“s-so explore me, jeonghan,” your voice was rather shaky as you waited for his cock to be shoved into you at any moment.

“fuck baby…” baby again? you didn’t have time to process the pet name once again before jeonghan picked up where you guys had left off.

his hands were holding onto your waist for dear life as he railed you into his bed with no mercy.

“f-f-fuck hann-nie!” you cried out, every stutter on beat with his hips. a string of the most lewd whimpers, whines and groans you’ve every let fly from your mouth followed.

“uh huh, that’s r-right. how g-good do i-fuck~ fuck you huh?” he boasted.

something about jeonghan’s feral tendencies to “claim” you had you tightening around him over and over, that familiar knot forming in your tummy.

“g-god hannie i’m c-close!” you warned, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

he pulled his dick out of you instantly. you started pouting, “noooo hannie why did you-“

you heard a pop from his mouth and couldn’t help but turn your head around as far as you could. “hannie?”

“if you don’t like it, or it’s too much, what do you say?”

“‘stop’… what are you- fuck!”

jeonghan’s thumb was prodding at your other hole, barely being granted access due to it never being messed with. “too much?” he asked as the tip of his thumb slipped in.

the groan that escaped your mouth was all he needed but you tried to respond anyway, “n-no hannie~ fffuck…” your voice trailed off, the new sensation sending your body into a blissfully painful new level of pleasure.

jeonghan lined himself back up, slipping inside of you with ease at this point. the sensation of being able to feel his cock sliding in and out of you through your ass with his thumb was a feeling he didn’t know he needed. he threw his head back, slowly pulling himself out almost entirely before steadily pushing himself back into you, pushing down with his thumb to feel every inch through your gummy walls. “god dammit, y/n. you’re gonna be the death of me,” he snarled before once again picking back up to his animalistic pace from before.

you both were a moaning mess, in your own bubble of euphoria when suddenly, you were rudely interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice.

“okay you fucking psychopaths, your point has been made. can you shut the fuck up now?!” josh yelled from down below. if you two were being honest, the moment jeonghan had you crawling across the floor to his bed, you’d forgotten all about josh and the others.

“no. you can come close the fucking door!” jeonghan yelled back trying to keep his voice steady when in reality, he could fall apart here and now. fall to his knees and cry at how amazing you were making him feel. you’re the reason he can fuck you so good. you make it impossible not to.

“god you guys are fucking obnoxious…” josh’s voice trailed off at the end of his sentence as he reached jeonghan’s door. he froze in his tracks. his drunken state didn’t really allow him to comprehend that he was going to be walking in on jeonghan absolutely wrecking you. he was just coming up to close the door, but he couldn’t stop staring.

he was snapped out of his daze when jeonghan whipped his head around, making immediate eye contact with him, not slowing down his thrusts in the slightest, completely unfazed.

“the fuck do you want?” he spat. you managed to turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of the boy in the doorway. your vision blurry from being completely fucked out of your mind. you knew it felt wrong that he was seeing all of this, but your brain was so fuzzy you couldn’t really focus on anything else other than jeonghan.

“i- i was just closing the door,” josh managed to mutter out. as he reached for the doorknob, jeonghan spoke up again.

“no. you wanna watch so bad?” he slowly took his thumb out of you first, then his cock. you subconsciously whimpered at the sudden empty feeling. you knew you should move, knew you should adjust so you weren’t so exposed for josh to see but you couldn’t bring yourself to in your sex drunk (and still literally tipsy) state.

jeonghan, dick still out, made his way over to josh. “then come have a seat,” his tone was bitter as he grabbed him by the shoulder and walked him to his desk chair, nearly throwing him down.

“dude i don’t-“

“i dont want to hear it. you’re the one that stopped to watch so im giving you what you want, yeah?” suddenly jeonghan had dominance over everyone in the room. all josh could do was nod in response.

with the main reason for all of this absurdity now sitting in the room, jeonghan felt it was appropriate to shut the door. he did so forcefully, then made his was back over to you.

your head already being turned to your left where jeonghan’s desk was, you were looking right at josh. you quickly flipped your head the other way, embarrassed by your state. jeonghan took a fistful of your hair and slowly pulled you up so your back was flat against chest.

“i want him to watch me make you fall apart,” he whispered so gently in your ear for no one else to hear. “is that okay pretty girl?” the nickname making your tummy do flips all over again. of course that was okay. sure it would be embarrassing for the first 5 seconds, but josh pissed you off tonight more than anyone. so yes, yes of course he could be put in his place with a front row seat to the show.

“jeonghan yes,” you breathed desperately, clenching around nothing.

“good,” you wish you could see the smile on his face that you could hear when he spoke. “now, when you lay back down, turn your head back toward him so he can watch your face while i claim what’s mine.”

what’s his?

you did as you were told and when jeonghan loosened his grip on your hair, you lowered yourself back down with your face in the sheets facing joshua once again. he looked at you with a stare that was incomprehensible. was it lust? embarrassment? anger? probably all of the above, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was jeonghan filling you back up.

jeonghan started to make a snarky comment to joshua when you interrupted him.

“hannie p-please who fucking cares i need you to fuck me please please please!” you were on the brink of tears. so desperate for him, to feel his cock deep inside you again.

“oh someone’s needy hm? good girl asking so nicely.” his voice something carnal. he took barely two seconds to line himself up with your soaked, swollen, reddened and abused core.

you didn’t think he was holding back before but holy shit were you wrong. his hands were basically imbedded into your waist. his hips snapping with even more determination and vigor than before. it took no more than 20 seconds for him to get that knot forming in your tummy again.

“is this what you wanted, you fucking whore? such a whore for my cock aren’t you.” he growled. “tell me baby, has anyone ever fucked you this good?” he whined out, his own orgasm approaching.

you must’ve taken a millisecond too long to answer him because he harshly smacked your ass making you cry out in pain (in a good way of course). “answer me.”

“yes!” your voice coming out in a mix of whimpers and pure air. “no one c-can f-fuck… fuck me like you do hannie!”

“not even josh over here?”

your eyes had been shut since jeonghan started fucking you again… you forgot josh was in the room. when you opened them you were met with the sight of him shamelessly palming himself through his sweats. “especially not josh,” you managed to spit out rather clearly. it was a somewhat mean statement but the mother fucker was getting off to watching jeonghan literally prove that he can fuck you better than josh ever could’ve, so why not humiliate him a little more?

sure enough, josh groaned out in pleasure. sick.

“that’s fucking right.” jeonghan managed to pull out, flip you onto your back, and start fucking you again so fast you got dizzy. the new angle allowing him to hit a new spot, one that was bringing you closer to the edge, much faster than before.

“mmmmffff h-hannieee~” was all you could manage to get out, but he knew exactly what it meant.

“gonna make a mess all over my cock baby? hm? gonna show josh what a fucking idiot he is?” he whined once again. he moved his hand down and began rubbing circles on your clit, bringing you to your breaking point.

you turned into an illiterate wreck. somewhere laced in your desperate noises were traces of jeonghan’s name. you physically couldn’t bring yourself to unscrew your eyes to look at him. you knew he loved it when you made eye contact whenever you came undone for him, but you just couldn’t. you suddenly felt a soft hand gently grab your neck.

“i fucking love your face, y/n,” he whispered as his hips started to stutter. you managed to open your eyes to look at him right before he started to come undone himself, you still coming down from your own state of euphoria. when your eyes locked, he immediately crashed his lips into yours, his hand on your neck tightening as his hips thrusted into you one last time. you couldn’t help but clench around him when you felt his warm seed fill you up. his mouth fell open letting out a feral noise as you two lay forehead to forehead, jeonghan slowly moving himself in and out of you letting you milk his cock for all it’s worth. his hand that was around your neck moved up to cup your face instead, wiping your tears that you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes during all of… that.

“josh?” jeonghan’s voice was low, and he never broke eye contact with you. “get out.”

you heard josh shuffle out of the room shutting the door behind him. it was nice for it to just be the two of you again… not that you didn’t enjoy the game you two just played.

jeonghan’s eyes were piercing into yours with something different than you’d ever seen. it was a content look which you were used to but…

“i-“ he paused, scanning your eyes to see if he should even say such a foolish thing.

“you what, jeonghan?” you said delicately, running your fingers through your hair.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispered. he sunk his head down to the rook of your neck as if to hide. it was the most precious thing you’ve ever seen this boy do.

“jeonghan…” you shifted to grab his face and bring it back up to look at you. “i love you too.”

how were you two sharing the most soft, comforting moment with each other right after having sex that you felt would have the devil himself appalled?

“really?” his eyes lit up, a smile growing on his face. he showered every inch of your face in kisses as you giggled through every second of it. once he finally stopped you nodded silently with a soft smile plastered across your face.

most normal people in such a situation would be asking all sorts of questions, but you didn’t care to. you knew you guys would talk about it at the right time for both of you, that time just wasn’t now.

-

“BREAKFAST!!” mingyu yelled from the kitchen. you were barely managing to open your eyes as you heard footsteps running down the hall. for these men being well past their teenage years, you always found yourself thinking of them as boys. always so cheerful and full of energy, even first thing in the morning.

once you “came to” if you will, you realized you were being spooned by the boy that confessed his love for you last night… or early this morning. the moment he ripped you away from the table you’d lost track of all time.

you both were naked but you felt clean. you vaguely remember in your post-fucked-out state, that jeonghan had carried you to the bathroom with him to shower.

“hannie,” you spoke just above a whisper.

“hmmmmmm,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him.

“gyu just said breakfast is ready and.. i’m hungry.”

“i don’t blame you.” you could hear the smile on his face even tho your back was turned to him. his morning voice was husky, the sound of it immediately going to your core, but you were too hungry to do anything about it.

“shutup,” you giggled. “let’s get dressed.”

“ugggggh okay fine, fine.”

he let you slip out of his arms to sit on the edge of his bed before… attempting to get up. your legs were so physically weak, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand. in that moment you knew jeonghan was watching you because he bursted out laughing.

“oh i’m so sorry,” he sighed once he finished his laughing session.

“for laughing at the fact that i can’t stand? or for being the fucking reason that i can’t stand?” you jokingly scolded.

“both,” he shrugged with a smug smirk on his face before getting up and grabbing two pairs of briefs from his drawer, one for you and one for him. he put on a pair, then threw a baggy t-shirt on and called it good. “i hope you’re okay twinning with me,” he teased as he got on his knees to slide the underwear he grabbed for you onto your legs. once he got to your thighs you took over.

“i don’t mind in the slightest,” you gave him a cheeky smile. he shifted closer to you on his knees so he was between your legs, then gave you a tender kiss before he spoke again.

“good. now what shirt of mine do you want to wear, princess?”

you looked up at the ceiling, cartoonishly thinking even though you both knew what shirt you wanted to wear.

“maybe that really really baggy sweater with that ‘message of’ whatever on it?”

he gave you another kiss with a smile before moving to his closet. “message of ames it is, pretty girl.”

once he helped you put the sweatshirt on, you still sitting on the bed, he kneeled backwards in front of you so you could hop on his back.

“we were taking bets on if you two were gonna come down,” minghao deadpanned from the table, taking a bite of one of mingyu’s pancakes.

“the princess was hungry.” you lightly hit him upside the head before he carefully set you down right next to the chair he just pulled out for you. once you sat, he pushed you in.

minghao smiled at you. he spoke up once jeonghan walked into the kitchen to fetch your plates. “i’m glad he treats someone nicely.”

you two giggled together. “and i’m glad it’s me.”

“oh… something happened last night.” he paused with his forkful of hash browns in front of his face. “well, beside the obvious.”

your face grew hot. “ha, yeah you wouldn’t believe.”

“can’t wait to hear about it,” he whispered, then shoveling the hash browns into his mouth.

“hey,” jeonghan blurted setting your plate down in front of you. “you guys, where’s josh?” he asked casually as he sat with his own plate as if what happened last night just simply… didn’t happen. you could imagine he was hesitant to face you both.

but then…

“y/n! jeonghan!” josh yelled from his room. “what the fuck are these?!”

you and jeonghan slowly turned to look at each other, both wearing the words “oh fuck” on your faces without muttering a word. jeonghan shot out of his chair and ran up the stairs to save both of your asses.

you turned to your food, silently poking at a piece of your scrambled eggs. minghao leaned in close, so you turned to him. “what did he find?” he whispered.

as if on cue, mingyu ran over from the kitchen to lean his head in. you leaned close to the boys so you knew any lingering ears wouldn’t hear. “jeonghan threw my underwear in his room,” you whispered back.

minghao bursted out laughing, mingyu stood up dumbfounded. exaggerated shock displayed on his face. anyone else in the room who was trying to mind their own business was now staring.

“you guys are too fucking much,” minghao sighed while holding a smile on his face. mingyu silently kissed you on the top of your head before walking back into the kitchen.

“you have no idea,” you smiled back, taking a bite of your best friend’s homemade pancakes.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱‧₊˚

tag list: (i tagged everyone who reblogged the teaser) @jenoslutie @goblynnrockz @iluvhoshi @shinaely @squishysquishjimin @sana-is-ms-rmty @wonusfavgf @httpjeia @chanichanvhan @133456789000000000000 @4shypotato @meowwiie @lethia-killua @asyre @jeonghnie @starcandybby

maroon - yjh

pairings: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

content: your valentines date, yoon jeonghan, wasn't the best at being reliable since the beginning. you probably shouldn't be giving him another chance, but with how much he's seemed to change since he met you, who were you to judge?

wc: 4k

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

warnings: alcohol consumption (kinda), blonde jeonghan needs his own warning, mentions/allusions to sex, fwb to lovers

a/n: hii <3 happy valentines day! my first official fic on this acc lol... i hope you all like it!! reblogs are appreciated

He didn’t show. Though you were somehow expecting him not to, it still felt like a gut-punch to the stomach, the embarrassment and the way it surged through your body and cheeks, was an agonizing reminder that he wasn’t actually yours. 

Evening was nearly upon the city street as you were perched on a bench. You scrunched the pretty red fabric beneath you, holding your equally as pretty bag close, both of which contrasted to the displeased frown on your face. You’ve always been fond of Valentine's day, hence the reason why your expectations were held higher today, but with every passing loving couple that walked by came a wave of disappointment and several wake-up calls.

You had messaged Yoon Jeonghan hesitantly yesterday, he wasn’t exactly the type to hold conversations with you on text. Some days, responses would be scarce and other days, they would come immediately. Yesterday had been one of those days in particular:

You: are you busy tomorrow?

Yoon: i think i’m free, angel

Yoon: mmm it’s valentine’s, do you want to meet up?

You: if you want to

Yoon: of course i do. do you?

You: i do

Yoon: meet you at 6

It was 6:23. Perhaps it was stupid to assume that you both would meet up for anything other than the usual– sex with zero romantic ties, no intent of love with little room for consideration of anything beyond a companionship. There was something different in the air though, whether that be Jeonghan’s open softness towards you or the Valentine's day spirit. Either way you knew if you kept letting the lingering hue of crimson remain on your cheeks, or flush throughout every part of you when he was around, you weren’t going to last.

You met him your sophomore year of college. Not one to be easily convinced, your friend Soonyoung had been adamant in taking you to one of those awful frat parties that reeked with hooch and rancid booze. Out of complete boredom and honestly annoyance, you had agreed to his suggestion, and to your shock it had been the exact opposite experience.

The party was small. Not much room to do a fucking keg-stand, but enough to know that the sole intention of it was getting laid. The drinks in general didn’t seem as cheap as you had initially expected when walking in. The event Soonyoung had taken you to was obviously of higher class and it worried you that he forgot to leave that bit out for you– because now you felt extremely small and underdressed compared to everyone else.

Half of the night you couldn’t recall, not only was it far from the expected loud and sweaty stereotype that frat parties held for themselves, but it was just boring. 

Boring until you realized on your way out you bumped into a near stranger, colliding into them. An amazing misfortune for you, since the wine glass he had appeared to be holding in his hand was shattered onto the floor after the fluids splashed directly onto your torso. Any shriek you could have let out was immediately muffled by the feeling of a palm covering your mouth. 

“Fuck, I am so sorry about that,” he mumbled with a groan, clearly trying to evade the attention away from you both, and thanks to the apparent conceitedness the guests at this party had, heads turned away from you both after a few moments. His hand dropped to his side, he seethed at the mess he made. You’re not even given a chance to look at whoever this man was as he was dragging you elsewhere, “would hate for you to step on that glass.”

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t know who this man was just by looking at the back of his blonde head. He was all the talk around campus, infamous Yoon Jeonghan and his habit of flirting with everyone and practically their mothers. Hell, the way he took your hand in his told you exactly what you needed to know about him: you had to tread lightly. (Not lightly enough, you noted, the wine on your shirt was still very much there).

And with that you were immediately taken into the bathroom, Jeonghan disregarded the line that was outside the door and went inside when it was vacant, shutting the door behind you. Sighing and observing your stained shirt, he tsked in disapproval, “you’ve got wine all over you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed, “your wine.”

He hummed and shrugged, “if that makes you feel better.”

Sighing exasperatedly, you watched him grab a washcloth in his cupboards, “it’s fine. Don’t bother. I can go home and wash up.”

While you were wondering what on earth was so amusing to this guy, he hummed again, turning to face you, “but while we’re here at my house, can’t we get the job done quicker?”

“I’m just saying you don’t have to. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.”

“You know I would hate for such a pretty girl to show up at my party just to leave after I made a complete mess all over her,” he stepped forward, inching closer to you, “and although the red looks perfect on you, you don’t seem very pleased with it– or me, for that matter.”

That was the flirtatious manner everyone had been buzzing about. If you didn’t know any better you may have thought there was a bolder, ulterior motive within his words. You didn’t let yourself believe him.

When Jeonghan earned a glare from you, he chuckled in surprise, “you don’t believe me.”

With a shake of your head, he flashed you a satirical grin at your answer: “I don’t think I should.”

Jeonghan takes the now dampened washcloth in his hand, taking a moment to drink you in before he figures he should wipe off the drying mahogany that stuck onto your skin. It did make you look good, “will you please let me at least do this? If I don’t, it’ll remain in my guilty conscience forever.”

You sighed and gave him permission, you hadn’t really given yourself an option because how were you supposed to go home without Soonyoung, anyway? He smiled and reached out to cup your cheek, the other hand wiping your neck with the washcloth for some reason, agonizingly slow.

“I wasn’t lying by the way,” he mumbled, “I’ve had eyes on you the entire night, you’re one of Soonyoung’s friends, right?”

You ignored his initial comments, “yeah.”

“Should scold him for hiding you from me later.”

“Hiding me?” You asked, confused. 

“I’ve never seen you around. Soonyoung surely would've mentioned having such a gem of a friend. Are you two dating?”

You shook your head, “I tend to avoid you.”

He clicked his tongue in disdain, “you know me?”

When you nodded, he clicked his tongue again, “I assure you that you don’t. Whatever you’ve heard about me doesn't equate to familiarity, angel. But you could know me. You should.”

You don't respond, trying to turn your attention away from the feeling of the warm washcloth dragging across your skin, “what’s your name so I can call you by it, pretty?”

“Y/n,” it didn’t matter whether or not you told him, something about him said that he’d find out either way.

“Well, Y/n. If you’d like I can wash your clothes for you and give you some of mine to wear, then you’ll be on your way home. I’m sorry about this, again.”

You were beginning to deep yourself in a hole, what was the harm of indulging in it? This man had come into contact with your skin faster than anyone has and maybe he was just captivating and sweet, but you were yet to learn about him. The way he happened to be the most gorgeous man you’ve laid your eyes upon was also a harmful position you would eventually put yourself into. 

And even though Jeonghan knew he was just being kind, a part of him also knew that he wasn't one to usually do this, and the tipsy state he was put in had drawn him into you. Though you had just been standing for the majority of the party, he thought you were captivating, so beautiful and something new he just needed. He hadn't meant to fuck up his plans by somehow spilling wine all over you, but he liked to think that tonight was going to work in his favor.

“Okay,” you accepted his offer. Jeonghan could feel his lips pull into a smile and his heart rate intensify as he took you out of his bathroom, into his room.

Pulling out a random t-shirt for you to wear, he tossed it to you, “change into this and I’ll wash your outfit. You’re free to wait in here for now.”

And so you did.

That was the first ever time you spent in Jeonghan’s ever-familiar room, and somehow you both knew it wouldn't be the last. It didn't take long for him to take further interest in you. Red-flushed skin to skin contact that turned into something more, Jeonghan had found you to be all kinds of things: alluring, gorgeous, perfect, and sometimes he could argue that you were made for him. The way he kissed down your exposed back in such adoration and the way he coaxed you into giving into him every single time. It was enthralling and somehow he couldn't get enough of you.

Though, you could retort that it wasn't the case that way with Jeonghan. Sure he had put care into you after completely taking your ability to walk, but it was nothing short of superficial to you. You knew after each time he took you, he would go back to pretending you didn't exist, and it was a cycle you hadn’t been bothered with until now.

You: do you want to study with me in the library tonight?

Yoon: i was busy. sorry 

That was his usual excuse. He was busy. You weren’t sure if he was fooling around with other women, while you yourself, well your only action was Jeonghan and it didn’t help that you felt yourself begin to harbor feelings for him. It made you feel uneasy and unsure in your situation with him.

After an outing with Soonyoung however, his bad habit of gossiping slipped on him, “it’s really funny. Whenever we’re all hanging out at Jeonghan’s, you know, the guys, he’s always leaving his room to join us after like 10 minutes.”

You made a sound of confusion, obviously bewildered as to why he was telling you this, “okay?”

Soonyoung grunts after sipping out of his straw, maybe you weren’t aware that everyone was aware, “his hair is all messy and he’s out of breath and he's red, Y/n. You’re always in there, huh?”

You felt yourself choke on your drink, he was right. You lost count of how many times Jeonghan had just finished with you, inside you, cleaning up his mess and kissing your bare shoulder sweetly before you drifted off to sleep in his bed. Now that you were aware his entire group knew– despite the fact that he would usually spend time avoiding you– made you feel embarrassed, “I’d rather we not discuss my… sex life, Soonie.”

“I think Jeonghan likes you, though. Everytime we ask him about you he’s all flustered and tries avoiding the question,” he shrugged, to which you only groaned.

“That’s because we have nothing to do with each other outside of that room. Or at least, that’s what he thinks.”

“I think you’re a liar, because he hasn’t been like this with anyone ever since his ex,” Soonyoung hums, pondering, “I don’t know, though. Sorry if I overstepped.”

Part of you wanted to press him for details, another told you just to leave it in complete ignorance. You chose the latter, but you wanted to ask: “been like what?” There was nothing between you both but an undiscussed trust you held for each other.

Nothing between you both. But you couldn’t deny the obvious tension between you and Jeonghan when his stare lingered on you longer in the halls between breaks, or how you knew he felt something when you were giving everyone attention but him at his stupid parties, and how you knew he wasn’t going to do anything about it. It had been a year of this. You were a pulling force and Jeonghan no longer knew how much he could take if you weren’t his, but something inside him felt it wasn’t right.

It’s not like you hadn't tried branching out, and Jeonghan didn't seem to mind when you did (which bothered you more than words could describe).  

But there was an underlying problem– each man that had tried to pursue you was a terrible choice. They were awful in terms of personality, lacked any sense of self-awareness, and most recently, they couldn't measure up to Jeonghan. If you were going to do this you needed to stop thinking about him.

You were walking back to your house one night, coming back from a date which went the usual direction: with a boring, assholish man who made you pay for the meal once again. It didn't piss you off this time, you wouldn't let it. You were tired and ready to give up.

As the buzz sets off on your phone, you couldn’t help a grimace at who could possibly be texting you that late at night. However, there could only be one possibility.

Yoon: are you free?

Yoon: i know it’s late but i miss you 

You: jeonghan

Yoon: angel

You: i just got back from a date

Yoon: oh

Yoon: bad time?

You: no

You: can you come?

Yoon: i’m on my way 

The familiar knock on your door came minutes later, you swung it open and Jeonghan was taken aback by your appearance. You were dressed gorgeously in a blood-colored dress, tears ran down your face and Jeonghan felt himself surge inside, closing the door behind him and taking your cheeks in his hands.

“What’s wrong, Y/n? Did something happen?” Jeonghan asked you worriedly in a panic.

You sniffled, exhaling exasperatedly, both hands reaching up to take his wrists and peel his hold off of you. You knew what was wrong, “I’m just not cut out for anyone, I guess,” you turned to face away from his gaze, “no one.”

Jeonghan pressed his lips into a tight line, “you know that isn't true.”

It didn't occur to you that Jeonghan didn't care who you dated, you knew once you were unavailable he would eventually become a complete stranger, “what do I know?”

“Look at me,” he prompted firmly, and you complied sharply, “I don’t know what those poor excuses of men are doing with you but they don't know how to treat you at all.”

You watch him inch towards you, his hands finding purchase onto your cheeks again, kissing where a wet tear had just slid down, “I’m trying to be okay with you going out with people that obviously don't deserve you, but it’s really hard especially when they make tears run down your pretty face like this.”

“Baby?” He whispered against your lips, you wanted his on yours, “do me a favor?”

“Hm?”

“Eyes on me tonight,” he grunted, “don’t think about anyone else but me. Please?”

“Okay,” you croaked, finally feeling his lips on yours, not before he pulled away, groaning incoherent mumbles as his hands traveled down your figure, fingers gliding among your dress as they hiked up the bottom of them.

“They don’t deserve you, this,” he hummed, “I’ll make you forget they even exist.”

There was a distinct blur between where it was appropriate for the both of you to just be friends with benefits and more. 

Throughout the next few weeks, there was an obvious shift in your relationship with him. 

He no longer let his stare falter from you in the halls, his lips curved into a tempting smile as you passed by. Whenever you met up with him, he was greeted with your arms wrapped around his as his body pressed against yours warmly. You could feel his lips on your head, whispering “I missed you,” into your hair before a kiss, which vibrated throughout you.

It was a real shame that you knew that you could never be his, and he could never be yours, even when the lines in your relationship with him have blurred into complete dissipation.

Even when you could've sworn you could hear him whisper the words I love you, tickling your wine-sucked covered neck as his chest was pressed flush against your back & you could feel it rise and fall intensely.

Jeonghan wasn't one for commitment, and you knew that, but you were already so far. It was truly a shame how you let yourself fall for him when you knew.

6:35, the sun would’ve been gone, maybe if you let go of the hope you held for all of this. The hope you latched onto that you could be something more today. The hearts, the red and pink decorations and the occasional couples passing by on the street of the bench where you sat. It was all in vain. You could admire, but never be the one admired from the sole being you wanted it the most from. Even if he had given you room to hope.

About ready to accept defeat and break it all off, a low voice came from directly behind you.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long, angel.”

Your head snaps in the direction of the familiar voice, your eyebrows scrunched at the sudden presence of Jeonghan, when you were sure tonight was going to be another night of him cancelling out of the blue. 

He didn't give you much time to bask in every part of him, the way your eyes flickered to his serious expression to his very new hair– maroon, a dark difference from the blonde he would sport on his long locks. And finally, when he straightened, a giant bouquet filled with scattered red carnations wrapped  in the most luxurious tissue paper tied in a golden bow was held in his hands. His breath was labored and his chest continued to rise and fall as he looked at every part of you.

You felt confused, angry, and relieved all at once. All you wanted were answers.

“You’re late. You’re so late, Jeonghan, where were you?” You felt your voice break as you stood to face him behind the bench.

He looked at the flowers and then at you, “I swear I left the house early, quarter before six, promise Y/n. But I saw the flower parlor a few blocks down selling this gorgeous bouquet and the way they reminded me of you told me it was almost criminal not to get them. I didn't think it would take nearly an hour to wait in line, I’m sorry, baby.”

Your heart dropped, “you waited an hour to get these for me? Why didn't you text?”

“I didn't bring my phone, I was already halfway in line and I wanted it to be a surprise,” you watched him walk around the bench to stop in front of you, “I’m sorry you waited for me for this long, this is important to me, Y/n.”

“I…” You trailed off, not knowing what to say, your eyes traveled back and forth between the flowers, his incredibly handsome suit and his hair which matched effortlessly, “I don't understand anymore.”

He practically deflated at your words, “understand what, angel?”

“This, us,” you exhaled wobbly and let a hand run through your hair before letting it drop to your sides, “what we are. I don't get it, you pretend I don't exist for days and then treat me like I’m everything and more to you. Is it that hard just to choose one instead of leaving me to hang and dry like this?”

His expression softened as you continued, “you’re so confusing, Jeonghan, how do you want me so I can stop getting my hopes up–”

“I love you.”

“W-what?”

“I want to be your boyfriend, Y/n. I’ve wanted you since the day I laid my eyes on you, God, I love you and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to say it.”

You felt an all-familiar profound feeling in your chest, the ones you would feel when staring at him when he fell asleep on your table, insisting he’d watch you study. Or when you felt him pepper his kisses when he thought you’d be sleeping, or just seeing him direct his alluring smile to you, “are you… sure?”

He sighed, “I’ve been so sure it’s terrifying, but not about how you felt. I wasn't sure if you want me the same way I want you, so I figured the feelings would disappear naturally,” Jeonghan set the beautiful bouquet of carnations on the bench before reaching for your hands, “I don't want to be anyone else’s but yours. You’re the only thing in my life that’s going well, and I didn't want to lose that. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, wriggling your hands out of his grip and Jeonghan’s heart dropped as he was sure that he had lost you now, until he felt them cup his cheeks warmly, “I want to be with you Jeonghan. No more disappearing, no more leaving, if you mean it, can you do that?”

He nods rapidly and eagerly, “I don't ever want to. I promise.”

Feeling a smile creep onto your face, you pressed a kiss on his lips, full of love and sincerity. You felt his own form of a smirk before pulling away, “so, am I…?”

“Yes, Jeonghan, you’re my boyfriend,” you rolled your eyes at him, playfully hitting his chest, “and for the record, I love you too.”

With a giggle he takes the bouquet and hands it to you, in which you gladly take. You gesture to his hair and his eyebrows rose up in realization, “oh yeah, do you like it?”

Cradling the carnations in one hand, he took your free hand, swinging it happily as you nodded, “why red?”

He shrugged, “it reminded me of you. It makes me look sexy, doesn't it?”

You sighed and jokingly nudged him, in which he feigned injury, “it does. So, where do you suppose we go?”

His footsteps mirrored yours, “I made reservations for that one fancy restaurant down the block,” he hummed, “it’s at 7, so we have just enough time to walk there now.”

“At seven? What were we supposed to do for an hour, Jeonghan?” 

His hand gripped yours tighter, and there was no mistaking what his quiet chuckle implied.

“Jeonghan.”

He chuckled again before stopping to face you. He ran a hand down your arm, “we can do that later, there’s a lot I want to do. But right now, I just want to be with you.”

He leans in to place a kiss on your cheek, “and before I get a chance to say it and rip this dress off of you later, you look absolutely beautiful.”

Your cheeks burned off a dark cherry afterwards, just before he began to walk with you again.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jeonghan,” you murmur sheepishly.

He hummed, turning his head to pull you in for another kiss on the cheek, “happy Valentine’s, my Y/n.”

𝖍𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌 - 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

a seventeen inspired historical, route-based au.

pairing: route specific member x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, yoon jeonghan (later), hong jisoo (later), wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo (later), lee jihoon, lee seokmin (later), kim mingyu, xu minghao (later), boo seungkwan, choi hansol (later), lee chan warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing word count: 11.2k

in 662 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞, you leave your hometown in search for your father, a physician whose work takes him far from home and oft to the battlefields of the kingdom. but with no word from him in months, you disguise yourself as a man and head to seorabeol, the kingdom’s capital, in search of him. it’s not until you become involved with a group that calls themselves the 𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 that things begin to unravel at the seams.

𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔢 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔡𝔢 || 𝔰𝔳𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 3𝔯𝔡, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It has been two months since your father left. And those two months felt like a lifetime. It isn't that you are so solely dependent on your caretaker that you’d let your home and his practice fall into ruin. It’s just that he said he’d be gone for at most two weeks while he attended to a patient in Seorabeol. He’d neglected to write, forgotten, maybe. But he isn't a careless man, you know that as much as he. Perhaps that’s why you find yourself so stricken with apprehension as you near the gates of Silla’s capital, the dirt under foot hard in the dead of winter.

The gates of the city stand menacingly in front of you, the grip you have on the knapsack slung over your shoulder tightens as you begin to notice the mass of people making their way in and out of the city. You have to dodge every nudging elbow prodding into your back to move you forward, duck or sway when a merchant’s wares almost topple from their carts and try not to make eye contact with the soldiers who line the entrance. 

Eventually, you make it into the city with little to no fuss raised about you, everyone seems so deeply enthralled with their own business you are easily out of their minds. Yet now that you stand in the streets of Seorabeol, you don’t know which way to go. It isn't as if your father had left a directory for you to follow him up on, nor had any of his letters detailed his whereabouts in the capital in full. So, you sigh and continue forward, beginning to scan the crowds in search of a face you haven’t seen in months.

Despite the golden sun shining down onto the Kingdom’s capital, Seorabeol lies under a blanket of cold air. And despite the layers of cloth and fur adorning your shoulders the wintery chill sets into your bones as you continue along the streets.

 Through the passing greetings of friends, the shouts of merchants and the bickering of their patrons, the voices collide together in a symphony of noise, you can’t seem to pull one apart from the other. No faces look at you with recognition, but why would they? This isn't your home, and you are surely just another visitor that they’d forget as soon as you leave their line of sight. 

You had come to the capital when you were a child, your father had been called upon by some aristocratic family, but you could scarcely remember who it had been. After the patient had been treated the pair of you had retreated to your village some distance away from Seorabeol, the memory of this place and its people quickly leaving your subconscious.  

Even now, after the partial loss of that memory, you can recall how cold the city had been compared to how cold it is now. It might be due to the winter chill that resides like a phantom over the streets, but this feels different, more ominous now that you’re old enough to realize it. 

 Had you been right to leave your home? 

The question plagues you as you wander the winding streets, your legs tired from your trek and eyes even heavier from the lost sleep over the course of your father’s absence. You question, ask if anyone had heard your father’s name or had seen him before, but conclude that those who had seen or met him had done so weeks prior.

And then you ask of Namekawa Yasuo, an acquaintance of your father’s. He is another physician that might know where he resides. But that inquiry leaves you with a snickers and a turn of the other’s heels. It is most likely that your father and his friend had ventured on to another town from here. You are alone once again.

Before you realize it, dusk has fallen over the city, the gray clouds beginning to unleash a torrent of snowy flurries that make the streets become almost unnavigable. Your hands pull your overcoat together, trying to find warmth where you already know there won't be. If you don’t want to freeze to death, you’ll have to find somewhere to stay the night or die by freezing or by some wandering bandit.

“Excuse me,” you call out as you stop traversing the road, turning to the side and over to a small stall aligning the street. Eyes locking with those of a miserly sort of merchant, you poise the question, “Do you know where the nearest inn is?” 

For a moment you've forgotten that you’re wearing your father’s clothes, so when the grizzled voice of the merchant asks if you’re looking for a pleasure house to get lost, you are somewhat puzzled. It's only with a moment of insistence that you’re just looking for a normal inn, do they comply. 

“Past the butcher’s, it’s cheap enough.” He turns away from you with that final statement, continuing to close up his stall and lock his goods away until the next morning. 

A quick nod and you’re off, the lanterns aligning the street only helping when the flurries die down a bit and you’re able to see several meters in front of you. You quicken your pace whenever you hear someone behind you, all too skittish to get out of this outbreak of snow. It isn't as if you fear the city’s inhabitants, but you’d heard warnings throughout your life that traveling alone at nighttime isn't ever a great idea. Maybe being dressed as a man should put you more at ease, but the message ingrained into your brain is even more overpowering. 

The city grows even darker as you fail to find the inn that the merchant had mentioned, had you already passed it? Ahead of you looks to be one of the agate walls aligning the city, stopping you dead in your tracks as you think of where to go next.

“Hey, kid.” A voice calls out behind you, it sounds disjointed, slurred. Are they drunk?

You spin on your heels, your hand reaching for your bag, for the small blade you’d tucked away in case of an instance like this. But it isn't just one man, it is three men swaying on their feet. Even at some distance away you can smell the sickeningly sweet scent of their perfumes and notice the bright colors their robes are made of. They are of some standing in society, but with the way they are presenting themselves, you suspect they are of the aristocracy’s lower ranks.

“Can I help you?” Using a lower register of your voice as you speak, as if it’ll somehow cast some sort of intimidation onto the men, you nod at them. Your fingers gently undo the string on your bag, reaching around for your blade. When you were younger your father had encouraged lessons, somewhat breaking the mold as for what was appropriate for a girl to learn, but your father had always been the unconventional sort.

“That’s a pretty blade,” one notes as you slip the weapon from the bag, the sheen from the hilt catching in the light of the streetlamp above. It is then you realize that they are probably more interested in the family heirloom than they are in you. “Seems a little extravagant for a commoner like you to have.”

“Why don’t you hand it over? We’d put it to much better use,” another snickers, stumbling forward and reaching his hand out towards you. Their heavily jeweled wrist chimes as their hand outstretches towards you, the gold glimmering in the now open moonlight.  

“But this is…” you hesitate, understanding that they wouldn’t comprehend its sentimentality. The handle of the blade is cool under your grip as your knees tense. It doesn’t look as if any of the men are going to stop harassing you until they get what they are after, your only choice now is to get away from them at any cost.

So, you run. Feet slapping atop the ground, the tops of your shoes becoming wetted by the puddles of melted snow you step into as you bolt down a side street.

“Son of a— get back here!” You hear one of them call out after you, the collective sounds of their footfalls chasing after you only seconds later. 

It seems like you were running for hours, your heartbeat loud in your ears and the cold air tearing at your lungs with every breath you inhale. They are still chasing after you, they sound more distant now, but their curses and footfalls still echo the street behind you. You spot an alley and decide to duck into it for an attempt at eluding them.

There are several long sheets of wood leaning against the side of one of the houses, finding it an apt hiding place, you crawl under them, trying to calm your breathing as you hear the footsteps of the nobles approach. 

“Are you sure it was this one?” You hear a voice after a few seconds at the opening of the alley, the labored breathing tells you it is one of your pursuers. 

“It had to have been,” the voices and footfalls edging closer, the clinking of their belts signaling their proximity. 

You hold your breath, expecting to be found out any second. But you’re not, instead the air goes quiet, the sound of the wind whistling through the alleyway all you can hear. It isn’t until a few seconds later that one of the men cries out in pain.

Before you can peek out from behind the board you stop yourself, not wanting to be caught by those men or whoever had caught them. 

“What do you think you’re doing!” One of the men cries out, you hear a blade being unsheathed as they speak. 

Another blade unsheathed, the sounds of iron on iron clanging through the air for a few seconds before one of the men speaks out again, “Why aren’t you dying?” A few bated breaths, “Jinyoung, we should get out of here—”

Something akin to primal fear takes over you at that moment, locking you in place, unable to move for a moment. What is out there? What are they fighting? With your mind flying with all sorts of gruesome imagery, you barely have time to comprehend what you are doing. Your head peeks out from your hiding spot and into the alleyway. 

There’s another clangor of steel as you look, the light from the street reflecting off one of the blades as two people are interlocked in a fight. The only figure you can see fighting is donned in a light blue robe, had they saved you?

Something of a menacing laugh emits from them, their blade once again falling onto the other’s as one of your pursuers cries out for help. Your savior says nothing as he stops his attacks, only now moving to raise his blade over his head and bringing it down to fatally slash against the chest of his foe. The struck noble lets out an anguished yell as he falls to his knees, the sword in hand clattering to the ground as he reaches to try and staunch the blood flow from the gash in his chest. 

A high-pitched laugh overtakes the man’s anguish, the man donned in blue still standing over his opponent and nearly snickering at his demise. You have to hold your hands to your mouth to stop you from gasping when the blue-clad man raises his sword once more. He begins hacking away at the now vanquished noble, his blows tearing into flesh more so like a butcher’s knife than a sword. There isn't skill, just a raw brutality behind every blow. 

The screams grow quiet, just wet bellows that still after a moment more. Your breath heavy and your chest heaving after watching that, you’d just witnessed that man’s murder. Wanting to get away from this situation, you fall back under the cover of the wood, your back hitting the house’s exterior as you try and keep yourself together. The man keeps hacking away, the splatter of blood on the ground and onto the nearby walls almost causing you to be sick to your stomach.

This isn't human, it couldn’t be. Sure, it’s a man committing the act but the brutality of it is more akin to a beast. It is as if they’d forgone any sense and given way into a psychotic madness. 

A coppery tinge to the air almost makes you gag; the scent of the deceased man’s blood has risen to greet you. How are you going to get out of this?

You pull your hands away from your face, the cold air meeting your skin all too unpleasantly. If you stay in place the killer would easily find you if he wants to, perhaps your best bet is to outrun him like you had the now deceased nobles. So, you brace yourself, pushing yourself up to your knees and prepare to make a dash down the alleyway and towards the opening on the other end. But as you do, you find that your joints have locked, sending you stumbling forward as you stand and knocking the sheets of wood over. With a dreadful fear encasing you, you turn to see that it hadn’t been just one man to kill the three that are after you, but two others had joined him as well, all wearing the light blue robes. All of them drenched in the blood of the fallen nobles. 

Their eyes bore into yours, smiles etching their way onto their faces as if you’ve become the lamb brought to the slaughter. You have to run, have to get away. But you can’t, your legs are locked in place out of the sheer madness of this situation. They laugh as they turn towards you, wordless in any other manner as they begin to saunter over to you, their silvery hair and reddened eyes looking almost ghostly in the moonlight.

You are going to die. You can’t even muster a scream to call out to any city patrol, nor move your limbs with how wrought with fear you are. 

Eyes closing as you begin to accept your fate, the sounds of their footsteps nearing, you can almost sense them lifting their blades to cut you down before— A whirring through the air and a grunt from one of the men in front of you has your eyes flying open. Someone had shot an arrow and hit one of the silver-haired men, causing them to stumble back a step or two. In theory, a blow like that should have downed a man, an arrow to the chest isn’t a superficial wound by any means, but it looks like the man is more angrier now rather than injured.

The trio raise their swords, their target now someone behind you, and before you're able to turn and see who or what it is, a glint of a silver blade flashes across your vision and cuts in front of you. You’re able to feel the warm blood splatter across your cheek before you register what just happened in front of you. Now the trio of men lay on the ground, dead by the looks of it, as a long gash seems to have torn across their bodies. The same queasiness from before begins to invade you as you wipe the gore from your cheek onto your sleeve, but before you’re able to do anything else about it, you hear a voice behind you.

“Is this really what we’re dealing with tonight?” It’s a sigh of disappointment, but somewhere in the tone there is almost a sound of amusement. “I wanted to take them out myself, couldn’t you have picked a different patrol group, Captain Choi?” You turn to see two men behind you, clad in the same blue as the murderers, but they look calmer, despite the one talking having a grin plastered onto his face. 

“I did my job,” the one that must be Captain Choi sighs, watching the other slinging the bow he’d used to shoot one of the men around his shoulder before moving to withdraw the sword he’d used to slay the men that had been after you. “Unlike you, I’m not getting any gratification out of this.” 

“That’s a little rude,” his partner laughs.

“You’re not even trying to hide it,” Captain Choi frowns, he carries the air as if he’s dealt with the other’s antics for quite some time. His gaze then flickers from the trio of fallen men to you.

“You know me well enough to know that I’m joking,” the other shakes his head and turns to look at you. “If you had just let them kill the kid you could’ve saved us some trouble, though.” Despite the lightness in his tone, the content of his speech made the same chill of fear creep down your spine. You’d escaped the nobles and the murderers, but now a different foe stands before you.

“Maybe,” Captain Choi notes, “but this isn’t our decision to make.”

Your brow furrows as they speak, by what they are saying it would leave you to believe that these men are a part of some sort of organization. Thinking more on it, you only knew of one group prominent enough to walk the streets of Seorabeol at night in place of any military patrol. Were these truly members of the Hwarang? 

Before you’re able to part your lips to ask, a figure rounds the corner behind the two men and makes his way over to you. He wears the same blue as them, his hair styled the same way with a headband across his forehead and his long locks held in a topknot atop his head. The other two grow silent as he approaches, denoting some sort of superiority as he stands shoulder to shoulder with them. 

His gaze travels behind you, looking at the splayed out remains, and then returns to you, a frown adorning his lips. “It doesn’t seem like luck was on your side tonight.” He speaks sharply, as if his words are whettened by the same stone that had sharpened his blade. The cold blue of the moonlight reflects off the blade in his grasp as he raises it towards your chest, sending another bolt of dread to your stomach. Although it isn't necessarily the steel pointed at your heart that makes you feel this way, it’s the way his gaze bores into you. It is cold and fierce, but there is another emotion stowed away that you aren’t fully comprehending. Mercy, maybe? The man fully seems capable of killing you instantly, but he looks somewhat troubled. “If you run, I will kill you. Do you understand?” 

You nod immediately, knowing full well that he wouldn’t back down on that statement. He stares at you for a moment longer before sighing and sheathing his sword. 

“W- What?” Too surprised to stop yourself, you blurt out the question as the man crosses his arms.

“Are you sure about this Lee?” The snarkier of the two others asks, his eyes narrowing at the one he’d called out to, “The kid saw everything, and didn't even say thanks for saving his sorry ass.”

Lee frowns, “Quiet. If you keep saying that then you know what we’ll have to do.”

With their apprehension to mention what had just occurred, it’s clear that you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to. The more they said the easier it is to figure out what they are trying to hide and no one wants that. 

“Don’t you think it’ll come back to bite us in the ass if we let him go?” With the way the Hwarang speaks it sounds as if he can read your mind.

“And so the right thing to do would be killing him? No,” Lee shakes his head, “We’ll see what to do with the kid once we get back.”

“I agree with the Commander, the longer we stay here the more likely we’re to be seen… Again.” Choi adds, moving to sheath his own sword and look at the creatures they’d slain as though he hadn’t seen them before. “If this is their reaction to blood, I don’t think they’ll have a practical use.”

“Damn…” Lee looks down to the corpses, an emotionless expression on his face before he looks back to his companions. “As for you two, stop with the ‘Lee’ and ‘commander’, we’re trying to keep a low profile.” 

“You can’t be serious, our robes are a big giveaway,” the nameless Hwarang snorts. 

“What should we do with the bodies? There doesn’t seem to be any physical signs…” Choi notes, looking at Lee.

The commander thinks for a moment, “Just take their robes, Chan can deal with the rest.” 

“Understood.”

“Another man killed in the streets of Seorabeol,” the other Hwarang sighs out before bellowing out a bark of laughter, “We’re doing a great job, aren’t we?”

“As long as we don’t talk about it, I don’t think anyone will know we were here,” Lee looks at you and you get the feeling that his words aren’t directed towards his companions. It isn't uncommon for people to be murdered in the capital, with rising tensions across the kingdoms as different factions had been popping up everywhere and leading anywhere from small to large fights. Seeing it happen is a different story. 

“Hmm, we did save you, didn’t we?” The nameless Hwarang muses as he looks at you.

Eyes widening at his statement. Despite his earlier attempts of pursuing after your death, he and Choi had saved you from the murderers. “Thank you,” you bow, hesitantly as you don’t trust them entirely. “I’m sorry for not thanking you earlier, there was just so much going on…” 

Looking back up at the three, they look almost as confused as you feel. You quickly break eye contact and look down to the ground, “It’s a little strange to say that… but he told me I should say thanks so—”

Gaze returning to the men, Lee and Choi are looking at anywhere but you while the third man is shaking with laughter.

“I guess I did tell you to, didn’t I?” He laughs again, doubling over to the point he has to wipe a few tears away from his eyes before straightening up. “You’re welcome, I’m Boo Seungkwan. Nice to meet someone who actually knows how to be polite.”

“Thanks for helping me…”

“The one you should be thanking is Captain Choi Hansol over here, and this bossy guy—” He begins again but is abruptly stopped by Lee.

“The hell do you think you’re doing, Boo?” He frowns as he turns towards Seungkwan. 

“I understand your concerns, commander, but we have to move.” Whatever pervasive happiness that had penetrated the bloodied air dissipated with Hansol’s words. 

Boo reaches out and grabs your wrist, gives you a small smirk and begins to lead you out of the alleyway and down the street. His grip is too rough and tight to be friendly, his fingers feel like stone wrapped around you. There isn't any question about the situation you now find yourself in; if you are to run you are to be killed. Your life is now in their hands and up to their discretion.

“It would be best if you prepared for the worst,” Hansol says as you traverse the streets of Seorabeol, wondering how the sight of their bloodstained robes isn’t catching anyone’s attention. “I doubt this will end well for you.” His words are sharper than the blades of cold that soar through the streets, tearing into your chest.

𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 4𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The harshness of the sunlight beaming in through a nearby window pulls you from a dreamless slumber, the ground underneath you far too hard to allow you a peaceful enough rest for such frivolities. Head reeling at the events of the night prior, it isn’t until you try and rub the sleep from your eyes that you realize where you are exactly. The knot roping your hands together brushes against your wrists, the fibers of the cordage causing the skin to burn. 

Looking around the room, you realize that there isn’t anyone else present. In a way that makes you feel a little more comfortable, but again, waking up in an unfamiliar place is sure to keep you on edge. You writhe on the floor for a moment, realizing that your feet had been bound too, the blankets that had been strewn atop you falling away and pooling on the floor beside you. A dull ache in your back tells you that you’d be feeling the consequence of sleeping on such a surface for the next day or so, the twisting already signaling a crick in your neck as well. For as dull as your own home had seemed to you as a child, you miss it now more than ever. 

“This is a nightmare,” a sigh under your breath as you think to the men who you’d come across the night prior, and whatever situation they’d found you in. 

Finding the scrambling on the ground unhelpful, you lay back down, your bound hands falling atop your stomach as you stare up at the dark ceiling. 

It’s only a few moments later that you hear the gentle slide of the wooden door across from you, noting that someone is making an appearance. You try your best to sit up, looking at the face of the newcomer and realizing quickly that it isn't one of the men with whom you’d been acquainted with last night. 

“Are you awake?” a small and awkward smile as they peek their head into the room, they pause for a moment as they notice the ropes binding you. Their brow furrows as they step fully into the room, “This isn’t normally how we treat guests… If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll untie you.”

A silent nod as they approach, loosening the ropes around your ankles as you can now sit up freely, unencumbered by the restrictive ties. You note that he’d left your hands bound, you can understand why but the chafing still hurts.

“Who are you?” You question as they step back, a small smile quirking on their face as they move to kneel by your side. 

“Ah, my name’s Song Eunseok,” he says, a look overcoming him as if he’d forgotten himself for a moment. 

“Thank you… Eunseok.” Muttering out as he stands, offering out his arm to you to help you rise from the floor. 

“A few of the captains want to talk to you,” there’s something likened to a worry in his eyes, you hardly know the kid, but he reads like an open book. “If you’d just follow me…” 

And you do, walking in silence through the compound for a moment or two before the younger speaks up again. “They’ve been discussing what to do with you since they woke up. I think they’re going to try and hear what you’ve got to say and see if they’ve got to report you or not…”

“Report me?” 

“Mhm,” he nods as his feet slide over the smooth floorboards. “We’re not like the city guard or anything, so we don’t have that much jurisdiction over—” Eunseok pauses, a hand raising to his mouth as if he’s said too much. He lets out a nervous chuckle, “Well, you’ll see.”

Eunseok’s courtesy is nice, better than that of those men you’d seen last night. But it has an air to it that tells you to be cautious, you are the one impeding on their space and it is their judgment to dole out.

 As if he can tell you are on edge, the younger one says, “They might seem scary at first but they’re really not that bad.” 

The Hwarang themselves don’t have a tainted name, but you know that the ones located in the different towns and localities of Silla had varying degrees of severity. And with this being the unit of the capital, you don’t expect them to be anything less than vicious towards any perceived troublemaking. 

“You’re actually probably around the same age as our commander, well, we’re all really around the same age,” his laugh resounds around the space for a moment, his hand trailing up to his ear to toy with a small, dangling earring attached to it. “Captain Kim and Captain Wen tend to sate any tension too so I wouldn’t worry all too much.”

 Eunseok’s reassurances go partially on deaf ears as you approach what seems to be the main building. Through the hanji walls you can hear muffled chatter as the people inside are undeniably trying to decide your fate. With a steady hand, Eunseok slides open the door and motions you inside. 

You don’t need to announce yourself, as the sound of you entering causes several heads to turn in your direction. A quick glance around the room tells you that these are probably the heads of the Hwarang. Their own gazes feel like daggers, picking you apart silently and without a care other than what the hell your presence means to them. 

“I take it you slept well, then?” A voice to your right calling out to you. You turn your head to see Seungkwan, or at least that’s what he’d been referred to as last night, glaring at you with a smirk on his lips. His attire is different from last night, as were the robes of the several others you recognize standing around, more lavish than what their Hwarang uniforms had been yesterday. The red of his robes feels even more threatening to you in lieu of this situation. 

“It wasn’t… great.” A small frown as you respond, noticing his brow contort into an irritated expression. You grit your teeth, maybe it would be better to kiss up to them?

“Is that right?” His shoulders shrug, “When I went to check on you earlier you didn’t move at all, no matter how many times I tried to wake you up.” Seungkwan sighs out, “You looked like you were dead to the world.”

 You don’t say anything, feeling a rise of embarrassment in your stomach at his words.

“Don’t take what he says too seriously,” another face emerging from the mass, belonging to another man you’d met last night. You think it’s the one they’d called Choi Hansol. “Seungkwan didn’t go anywhere near your room.”

 A devilish grin spreads over Seungkwan’s face as he sees how flustered his statement has gotten you, “You didn’t need to ruin the fun that quickly, Hansol.”  

“Captain Choi didn’t do anything wrong though, you though—” a glare at Seungkwan, your fingers rubbing together as you try to find the will to butt heads with him. 

“That’s enough.” A voice cuts through your conversation swiftly, drawing your attention to the figure standing at the head of the room. Their head hangs low, as if they were just listening to the chatter before calling out. “You sound like a bunch of kids.” It is the third man from last night, Commander Lee.

“This is your witness Commander?” A new voice with a deeper tone, calls out from your left. You turn to see three men sitting together, presumably having been conversing with one another prior to your arrival. 

The notoriety of the Hwarang stems from the fact that they only chose youthful men to be a part of their organization, you can see that while glancing around to the other faces in the room. Maybe you’d expected them all to be a little older, but it seems as if the eldest is just in his late twenties or so.

“He’s just a stick,” the voice continues, you see that it looks like the younger of the trio’s talking. His hand rests lazily over his knee as he looks you over, a frown settled onto his lips. 

“You’re calling him a kid, Kwon?” One of the other men sitting snickers, “That’s funny.”

So, that’s at least one of their names. 

“Put them together and they’d look just like scared little kids,” the second speaker sighs out, head resting lazily in his hand. 

“I can call them that because I’m a mature adult, obviously.” The two begin to have a bickering discourse, glaring at one another from their seated positions.

“Mature adult?” The other barks, his hand moving from his cheek in disbelief, “Wen, I knew you weren’t smart but that’s a reach even for you.”

 Their tones aren’t angry, more so a taunting argument between two friends. It is lighthearted enough but if you’d just been passing by and not listened fully you might’ve just seen it as two people arguing. Were these the two people that Eunseok had mentioned, Kim and Wen?

“You’re just a pair of grumpy old men,” Kwon rolls his eyes, “I think you’re both going senile.” 

“You think you can get away with talking to us like that?” the one you presumed to be Wen scoffs, “I’m hardly old enough to be called old… Kim here though…”

 “I thought we were friends, you son of a bitch,” Kim looks to the other, an expression of faux hurt caked onto his brow. “And you both are older than I am.”

“Real adults, my ass,” Kwon shakes his head at the two. The back and forth between the three is certainly interesting to watch, it is almost as if they’d been going at it like this for years with one another. 

Despite their light-hearted banter, it doesn’t downplay the tension you feel encroaching on this space. This is the home of the Hwarang, and you are an outsider, foreign to them in almost every way possible. 

“I’ll apologize on their behalf,” a soft voice says, it comes from one of the men standing next to Lee. “Don’t let them unsettle you too much.” The warmth emanating from his tone is enough to make you relax even in the slightest bit, forgetting for a moment the peril you may be in. 

“Don’t kid yourself,” the Commander speaks up, shooting a glance to the other, “You’re the scariest one out of all of us, Choi Seungcheol.” You’re almost too lost in looking at the one who’d spoken to notice the number of heads nodding in agreement with Lee.

“Really? I get that from the other men but from our own demon commander?” Choi muses, his hand toying with the long strands of hair falling over his shoulder before looking at his compatriot, “I feel a little flattered. I only try to hold the Hwarang to the highest standard I can.” His hand falls away from his hair, settling to rest on the hilt of his sword fastened around his waist in such a relaxed manner you hadn’t realized he’d had it on him in the first place, “Although I suppose it’s easy to get confused when our standards… or maybe our taboos, are at your mercy.” 

“Maybe you’re right, but this isn’t the time to get into that,” Lee sighs out, a small smirk mirroring Choi’s, his gaze once again pinpointing on you after a moment. 

“You’re lucky to have a friend like that, Jihoon,” a new voice comments. The dialogue between Choi and the Hwarang’s Commander hadn’t been exactly what you would call ‘friendly’. It is cold and lacks the warmth that had flowed between the prior conversation with the other three captains. Although from the way the new face had spoken it sounds as if he had perceived the pair as such. 

“I haven’t introduced myself,” he says, turning from the pair and facing you. “Sorry, my name is Kwak Youngmin, the leader of the Hwarang. Or at least, this division,” he chuckles at himself.

“So, you’re the most important man in the Hwarang?” A tilt of your head as you look at him, his presence is far less intimidating than the handful of others that had come before him.

“Well,” another short laugh, “I wouldn’t go that far. I merely represent everyone in the Hwarang. Jihoon’s the commander and Seungcheol’s more or less the colonel.”

“Don’t you think that’s important information to be divulging, Youngmin?” Jihoon cuts the other off, arms crossing over his chest as he continues to glare at you. 

“Ah,” Youngmin’s brow softens, a confusion taking over his demeanor, “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Unless you want them to learn everything about us,” a grunt as Wen pushes himself up off of the floor and strides over, quickly followed by Kwon and Kim, “I think you’d better keep your mouth shut.” 

“Exactly! We don’t owe him anything,” Kwon adds, glancing over to you.

“Those are good points…” Youngmin cedes for a moment, “But it’s rude to ignore your guests, isn’t it?”

A laugh from Kim as he shakes his head, “I guess you’re right.”

Youngmin perks up ever so slightly, he’d looked dejected at Jihoon’s words and it seems as if the affirmation helped his mood. His demeanor is much more cheerful than the others, seeming to radiate a positivity that hadn’t been shed amongst the others.

Another smile flashes on his lips as he looks at you, it's brief but there’s a coolness in his gaze that tells you the newly found lightened mood is due for a change. 

“Now, let’s get back to why we’re here,” he glances at Hansol before speaking again, “Can you tell me what happened last night?”

“Last night we were on patrol when we encountered a band of thugs wandering the streets. They attacked first so we fought.” Hansol’s voice is calm as he recounts the events, calmer than you would ever be in his shoes. “A few of the men were able to subdue them,” His eyes look to you, prodding at your own take on the events that had transpired.

“I didn’t see what happened,” you insist, shaking your head as you lock eyes with the speaker.

Despite that, you can feel Jihoon’s glare boring into you. It is akin to the harshness of a parent severely scolding their child. Hansol’s expression doesn’t change, despite the pleading in your gaze, and in your peripheral vision, Seungkwan continues to smirk at you. 

“Positive you didn’t see anything?” Kwon prompts, causation enough for you to turn your attention back to him and his other two compatriots. 

“I didn’t,” you press, trying to muster as much authority in your voice as you can. 

“Hmm,” his hand moves under his chin as your eyes dart from Wen to Kim before settling back onto Kwon. “If that's the case then I really don’t see what the problem is.” 

“Didn’t Seungkwan say you helped out some of the guys?” Kim mumbles, his arms crossed as if he is deep in thought. 

Your brow furrows before you begin to shake your head once again, this time a little more vehemently, “That isn’t true.” The plastered grin on Seungkwan’s face remains, despite the accusatory glance you throw to him. “I was trying to get away from those noble thugs, or whoever they were and then some men in Hwarang robes showed up, if anything, they helped me out.”

“So, then you saw them apprehend those men?” It is lightly put, the flashes of viscera still playing in your mind occasionally. Kim is testing the waters and you are beginning to sink your own ship.

 “I…” You can’t deny it, something tells you that if they even get a whiff of inaccuracy, you’ll be in much deeper shit than you are in now. 

“If you’re not going to say anything, we can only assume you saw everything, right?” Kim questions. The silence you emit must be answer enough for him as he sighs and continues, “I can tell you’ve got an honest heart, and that’s not a bad thing, really, but…” The eeriness of that sentence puts you on edge, will the next thing that falls from his mouth be the words that would damn you? 

“I promise I won’t tell anyone what I saw!” The words fall from your lips, blithely and almost incoherent as your hands clench together. 

 “Hmm,” Seungcheol’s gentle hum resounds around the room after your outburst. “The attack doesn’t seem like it wasn’t deliberate. Yet, it also seems unlikely that you’re our enemy. Even if you have good intentions, we will still have to interrogate you... Can you handle torture?” 

Images of bodies rolled in straw mats and being beaten with wooden sticks courses through you, of what they could possibly do to you. Seungcheol’s words, despite the warmness of his voice, are cold, calculating. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, unable to respond to such a question without an air of incredulity. 

“Staying quiet is easy, but if you were captured, you’d have no loyalty to us regarding what you saw.” Hansol points out nonchalantly.

 “Let’s just kill him,” Seungkwan shrugs, almost as if the thought doesn’t carry the weight of your life, “That’s the only surefire way to not have him talk.”

“Seungkwan, that isn’t our way.” Youngmin interjects, his brow furrowing at the other, before you can protest, “We don’t run around murdering civilians.”

The other laughs, “Don’t look at me, I was only kidding.” It sure hadn’t felt like it. Nor had it sounded like it either.

“You may need to work on your delivery, then.” Hansol shakes his head, as Seungkwan chuckles with that cheshire-like grin. 

“If anything, he can’t be that much older than me,” Eunseok, who until up to this remained silent, speaks out from behind you. You hear his feet tread across the floorboards until he’s standing by your side, “That’d almost be killing a kid, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t want to kill him but choosing to ignore the unlikelihood of his untrustworthiness is very irrational,” Seungcheol frowns, his fingers toying with the butt-end of his sword. “What’s your take, Commander Lee?”

Everyone’s attention turns to Jihoon, the Commander’s lips curving down into an ever sourer grimace as the gazes’ rest upon him. He sighs before looking up and around at the different faces.  

“Last night we killed the wang-do that broke our code, this kid shouldn’t have been involved in the slightest.” It isn't an answer and it only heightens the anxiety coursing through you.

“Is that all you have to say on the matter?” Seungcheol prods.

“He probably saw something that he doesn’t understand…” Lee mutters as Wen rises to his feet. 

“Even if that’s the case this is pretty serious,” Wen’s foot taps on the floor, the light from outside glinting off his deep green robes. “We have to sweep this under the rug. If the rumor spreads that the Hwarang have turned blood-thirsty it wouldn’t sit well with the people, or the crown for that matter.” It looks as if people are taking Wen’s words to heart, a grimace overcomes Jihoon’s face as the taller continues to speak. 

“Watch it,” Jihoon fires back, “It’s our responsibility to regulate the wang-do that haven’t followed the code. We are going to do something about it.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he saw something.” Seungkwan looks at you again, but you refuse to acknowledge it.

“He does have a point,” Kim muses, “I’ll do whatever Kwak, Lee and Choi tell me to do.”

“I think we should let him go,” Kwon notes, his hand moving to brush a few strands of hair out of his face. “It’s not like he knows everything.”

“...Everything?” You question aloud and the room once again turns cold at your words. 

“I think it’d be best if you stop talking, Kwon.” Jihoon says solemnly, as the younger mutters out a brief apology. 

“Now it’s going to be a little harder to just simply let you go,” Seungkwan says pointedly, crossing his arms as you look at him briefly. 

“A man should always be ready to face death. You should make your peace with that,” Wen notes, nodding his head as if he were agreeing with his own statement. 

 A man…. The words resound around your head and it isn’t until you look down at your feet and the clothes you were wearing do you remember. Right, you’re not dressed in your typical attire, this was stolen from your father’s chest, his clothes that you had mended as you awaited his arrival. The clothes you had taken to undergo your journey to find him, the journey that had somehow led you here. It hits you that they think you’re a man. With the whirlwind of events that had led you here you’d completely forgotten about your attire and how they may have perceived you. 

“That’s true, there’s nothing wrong with a brave death. When I was younger, I committed honorable suicide,” Kim shrugs his shoulders, a humor riding his tone as he spoke of the grave topic.

“Didn’t really stick though, did it, Mingyu?” Wen snorts, giving the other captain a nudge with his shoulder before they break out into a short burst of laughter. 

“Commander, since we can’t figure out what to do, should I just send him back to his room for the time being?” Hansol asks Jihoon once the laughter has died down. “The more we leave him out here, the more likely he’s going to hear something he’s not meant to, and we’d have to kill him regardless.”

Even if Hansol hadn’t said it for your well being, a flush of relief floods through your muscles. 

“Alright, let’s do that. Besides, there’s something I need to look into.” The commander acquiesces, before looking over to Seungcheol.

“I agree, there’s a few careless voices among us, you never know what could slip.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kwon’s eyes widen as he realizes that the colonel is glaring in his direction. 

“You’ve gotta admit we’re all pretty reckless with our words, especially you, Soonyoung.” Kim huffs, begrudgingly agreeing to Choi’s observation. 

“It was just a mistake! No need to blame me for all of it,” Kwon’s voice rises as he tries to defend himself. He sighs out and glances at you, mumbling a quiet, “I’m sorry” under his breath. 

Still apprehensive about their plans with you, you can’t find it within you to respond to him in any sort of affirmative way. It still seems like he understands the intention behind your curt nod.

“Alright then, Captain Choi, take care of the kid.” The commander says as he begins to turn on his heels, heading towards a side room branching off the main hall. 

“Will do…” Hansol nods and turns to you, “Shall we go?”

After Hansol has walked you to your room in relative silence, you find yourself sitting on the floor, your hands still bound, after what seems like hours since the meeting. 

The Hwarang were esteemed because of their loyalty to the crown and their way of life, you hadn’t realized how vicious it could be. But behind all of that there is a humanity behind the veneer of the aristocratic and diplomatic traits they were meant to have. Despite it not seeming like it as of your first meeting. 

Their presence isn't that of cold-blooded killers or snotty aristocrats, the message garnered through that meeting had been along the lines of ‘We are not killers, but to protect our way of life we must bring death’. It didn’t make you feel great, but it could help you understand them a little more. 

As you sit in the room, watching the sun flit in through nearly closed shades you ponder that the longer you stay here, the less chance you have of returning to your home in one piece. They have no real right to let you go, your loyalty to them is a contract by word, not by blood. And you are sure they would recognize that sooner or later. 

If they still thought you to be a man would they still make you face that fate? Would exposing your true identity be worth mercy on your life? Even then you don’t know if the repercussions of that would be any better, it may backfire and lead to an even worse end for you. 

If possible, you would like to forgo either of those scenarios. Perhaps escaping would be your best bet...

As your feet had been left unbound, it is easy to push yourself off the ground to unsteadily rise on your feet. With your feet free it shouldn’t be nearly as impossible a feat to escape if both your feet and hands were bound. You take a deep breath before walking towards the door, thinking of how they had brought you in last night and where Eunseok had guided you to the meeting and Hansol had taken you from. It is a rudimentary enough map in your head, but you can make it work, you have to make it work.

You approach the sliding door quietly, inching your foot towards it as to open it. Before you’re able to though, it slides open and a figure almost runs face-first into you. 

“Ah-!” Youngmin stops himself so he doesn’t run into you, you take a cautionary step backwards to distance yourself from him. 

A figure peers out from behind Youngmin, Seungcheol’s eyes wide as he realizes what is going on. “Oh, you weren’t trying to escape, were you?”

“I was just…” you search for a response, but your situation is already damning enough. 

“Trying to escape isn’t really going to make your situation any less difficult,” he frowns, stepping out from behind Youngmin to stand in line with the leader. While his voice is soft, his eyes hold that same calculating glare that had scrutinized you earlier in the day. 

You think for a moment before a realization dawns on you. They hadn’t tied you up because they’ve been watching you the entire time. Maybe you should’ve figured that out sooner, but your brain is too muddled with flight or flight instinct. 

“I’ll only repeat this one more time,” a voice coming from the hall outside as two pairs of footsteps approach the room, “if you try to run, I’ll kill you.” Jihoon’s voice is stern as he rounds the corner with Seungkwan. 

“Sorry, that means we’re forced to kill you,” Seungkwan sighs, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword, “We can’t let you go if you can’t keep a promise.” He doesn’t look sorry with the way a fresh smile danced along his lips as he spoke. 

Teeth gritting together you plant your feet firmly on the ground and look at the men in front of you. They aren’t presenting any favorable options to you, and if they were going to kill you anyway, the best thing you could do is try and run for it. 

By some miraculous means you’re able to push your feet from the floor, sliding around Youngmin and beginning to race down the corridor of the building. It’s not long until you feel a hand grab the back of your robes, pulling you back towards the room you’d been kept in.

“Did you really think you could escape?” Jihoon asks, sounding somewhat bewildered by the actions you’d taken. 

“Let me go!” You writhe in his grasp, trying to free yourself from his grip, but it is holding firm to you with no sign of weakness. 

“If I do that, you’ll just run off again,” he sounds annoyed now as he leads you back into the room with Seungkwan, Seungcheol, and Youngmin. 

 “I don’t want to die, though!” You say, still struggling under his hold. “There’s something I have to do!”

 “And what’s that? What’s important enough for a girl to dress up as a boy and run around Seorabeol?”

You freeze at his words, eyes widening as his grip on you goes slack. It’s given you the opportunity to run for it again, but you find yourself too stunned to move. Did he know this whole time? You turn to look at him, your mouth parting as if to say something but you can’t think of what to utter.  

“Did you just call me a girl?” You can tell by the steely glare he gives you that your feeble attempt at a lie won’t work on him. 

A small ‘huh’ and you look over your shoulder to see Seungcheol looking at you, “So you really are a girl.”

“Did you really think putting on a pair of pants and a man’s robes would fool us?” Seungkwan questions as he crosses his arms, a teasing tinge to his voice.return

“You all knew from the start?” Eyes widening, you thought your disguise had been rather good. But perhaps not as much as you had thought. 

“Kwak Youngmin you idiot,” the leader of the Hwarang mutters just loudly enough for you to hear, “How did you not realize this sooner?”

Youngmin’s reaction puts you more at ease, seeing that not everyone had seen right through your facade.

“You almost got killed for whatever you’re here for, maybe it’s time you enlighten us,” Jihoon doesn’t ask, rather demands the information out of you. 

You nod at him and the trio silently takes you back to the hall where you’d been questioned only hours prior. The rest of the men filter in from whatever they’d been doing at the compound, none of them sparing you more than a second’s glance once they walk into the large room. 

“I thought your features were a little more effeminate than most men but to think you were a lady this whole time…” Youngmin leads, his head nodding as if he’d come to the conclusion hours earlier and hadn’t only just learned your secret moments prior. 

“Once you realize she’s a girl she really doesn’t look like a guy at all, right?” Kwon muses as he looks into your eyes. 

Uncomfortable with this, you break away, looking to Eunseok who stands next to him. 

“So, we really left her tied up all night to sleep on the floor?” The younger mumbles, looking down to his feet before looking up to you and giving a very heartfelt “Sorry,” before returning his gaze to the floor. 

“Well she claims to be a girl, but it’s not like we have any real proof, right?” Wen muses as he looks at Mingyu.

“You want proof?” You fire back, eyebrows raising at the implied suggestion. 

“Would you feel better if we stripped her down?” Kim scoffs, eyes rolling at the other.

“You will absolutely not!” Youngmin interrupts, seemingly not understanding the sarcasm of Kim’s statement. “To suggest that goes against everything we stand for.”  

“It was a joke,” Kim shoots back, “But if we needed absolute proof…”

“If you are a girl though,” Wen muses, “Then I think it would feel kind of wrong just to kill you.”

“Why are all of you acting so naive? If we have to kill her, we have to kill her.” Jihoon frowns while looking over his men. 

“Exactly,” Seungcheol nods, a small frown overcoming him, “Although it’s not her gender that’s the issue. Killing in general is wrong.” Even with those words, the way his hand rests on the hilt of his sword makes an uneasy feeling lurch in your stomach, “We were organized by the crown to protect Silla and her people, killing those people in cold-blood wouldn’t put us in a favorable light.” 

“But if this girl, or boy, is a threat to the crown, that’s a whole other matter in itself.” Seungkwan notes, the sly grin on his face present once more. At this point you’re concluding this is what he normally looks like.

“I apologize,” Jihoon looks at you, “I took it upon myself to look through your things. It seems like you’ve come all the way from Toehwa-hyeon by yourself. You didn’t have much; some change, clothing, a few scraps of letters and a blade.” He pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts, “One of the fragments of letters was signed by Namemekawa Yasuo, I assume you saw him?” Another pause as he looks into your eyes as if he’s searching for something, “What exactly are you here for?”

When the doctor’s name is spoken, chatter begins among the men, did they know Namekawa? And it isn’t until Jihoon asks what your true purpose here, followed by your full name, does the entire room go silent.

“Commander… that name…” Wen’s eyes are wide as he addresses Jihoon. 

“It’s not just some bizarre coincidence, is it?” Kim adds on, his face looking almost as equally as confused as Wen’s.

“Now, let’s hold on for a moment,” Youngmin tries to calm the room’s mounting tension. He looks to you, a weary expression on his brow as he continues, “We need to determine if you are a threat. Why did you come to Seorabeol?” 

At Youngmin’s behest you move forward to speak, with a quiet voice you announce your name, and the chatter begins quietly once more for a moment. Once it settles down you speak again, “My father is a doctor in Toehwa-hyeon. I traveled from my home there in search of him as I haven’t heard from him in several months. The last time we spoke he said he was traveling here, the capital, for work.” 

“You’re from Toehwa-hyeon as well?” A small smile dances along Youngmin’s lips, “And you came all of this way to find your father? Who is he?”

“I am the daughter of Physician Heo Jinsang.” You answer shortly, not fully expecting their reactions. 

They don’t seem angry, rather sate in their realization of something.

“So, it’s all piecing together,” Jihoon sighs out.

“The handwriting does match Jinsang’s but… To think you were his daughter,” Seungcheol’s gaze furrows at you as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“Do you know my father?” You ask as you turn to look from Seungcheol to Jihoon.

“You’ve been withholding information from us?” Jihoon’s voice, now angered, calls out to you. It’s accusatory in nature and you can’t begin to fathom as to why.

“I… What?” A step backwards at the intensity of his words, your heart begins to pound in your chest as the next words flow from his lips like a torrent from an incensed river. 

 “There’s no point in lying now!” His gaze hardens, voice unrelenting in its authority, “What the hell are you doing in Seorabeol?!” 

 “I just came to look for my father.” You protest, your muscles tense as the commander takes a step towards you.

“No, you came into this city fully aware of what your father is doing, didn’t you?” Jihoon’s presence itself is harsh, unsettling as his heightening anger bores directly from his voice and to your ears, trying to dig up secrets that were unknown even to you.

“I was told that he was traveling here for medical work, I haven’t seen him in months!” Voice almost cracking under the stressful strain of trying to prove your innocence to them, your heart grows heavy at the thought of committing a crime just from being someone’s daughter. 

“Jihoon, it may be better to leave her be. She may not know anything…” Seungcheol interjects, stepping forward to place a hand on Jihoon’s forearm. 

A reprieve from the interrogation allows you to collect your breath and pose a question of your own, “So what do you know about my father? Do you know where he is?”

“The Hwarang are currently trying to find the location of Physician Heo Jinsang.” Hansol responds with a flat tone, as if he’s not trying to interject any emotion or his own opinion into the matter.

“You’re after my father?” A furrowed brow as you look at him. What exactly had your father done?

“It’s not like that… We’re not after him, per se.” Seungkwan interjects by shaking his head.

“I see…” A small exhale of air that you hadn’t realized you were holding escapes you, a slight weight lifted from your shoulders. 

 “He’s a supporter of the crown but he disappeared a little while ago.” Seungkwan explains. 

 “There’s a chance a few Baekje loyalists have identified him as a threat,” Hansol adds after Seungkwan has finished speaking. 

 “Really?” You frown, beginning to think the worst before Hansol begins to speak again.

 “Of course, there’s a chance that he’s still alive, there are a few Tang-trained physicians in Silla at the moment.” He notes, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Youngmin, what do you think we should do? Would it be in our interest to help her because we’re both looking for her father?” Seungcheol questions as you feel your heart about to burst from the anxiety of this situation. 

 “What do you mean by ‘help her’?” Youngmin asks, one of his hands resting on his hip as he looks to the colonel. 

 “I think it would be in our best interest to cooperate with her until we find Heo,” Seungcheol’s lips purse, it looks like he’s already thinking of ways to find your father but you can’t be too sure. “With her help I’m sure our chances of finding him will increase drastically. It may prove fruitless to look for him if he’s in disguise. However, you are his daughter, you should be able to recognize him no matter how he’s disguised himself, right?” Seungcheol looks to you inquisitively, his head tilted to the side and his eyes wide in question. 

 You nod, “Of course.” 

“What do you say Jihoon?” Youngmin turns to look at the commander, “Seungcheol is making some sense of this mess.”

“If she really doesn’t know anything…” Jihoon hums, looking at you warily. 

“I really don’t, all I know is that he was headed here for work but I really don’t know anything else—” You huff, “And about last night, I didn’t see anything, I promise!” 

Jihoon huffs out a sigh as his eyes narrow, “Well, if she really is his daughter, we can’t really kill her, can we?” He watches your reaction for a moment more before continuing, “If you promise to not talk about the events of last night, we’ll let you stay here until we find your father. Fair?”

“I can promise that the Hwarang will do whatever we can to find your father,” Youngmin adds with something of a reassuring smile. 

“Thank you,” you say and bow as deeply as you can, thankful for their gratitude and, most of all, them deciding that your life hadn’t needed to be halted. You’d found your first lead in finding your father, and it seems they are actively looking for him as well. 

“You must be glad we’re not killing you,” Seungkwan quips, “not yet anyway.” That same snide grin encapsulating his lips, as you frown at him. In no way is your position desirable, but you were alive and, on your way, to finding your father.

“More than glad,” you snip back at him. 

“I’m happy we didn’t have to kill you,” Eunseok sighs out, “or turn you into the Crown. My brother’s a guard there and he says it’s awful.”

“Oh, really?” You ponder on that for a moment, thinking of what may have happened if the official patrol had found you instead of the Hwarang. 

“Hm, Eunseok? With her being a lady, I’m not sure the compound is equipped for all her needs. It’s not as if we have Wonhwa anymore…” Youngmin frowns as if he’s just realized an all male domicile may not be the best suited for you.

“That’s a good point…” Eunseok mutters.

“If you need anything you only have to ask,” Hansol nods, “We will do what we can to accommodate you.”

“Thank you, Hansol.” You nod and turn to look at who’s just begun to speak.

“I guess if you are a girl, we’ll have to be nicer to you, huh?” Wen says, a nervous laugh escaping him.

“Hah,” Kwonsnorts at him, “didn’t take long for you to change your attitude, huh, Jun?” 

“It’ll be a nice change of pace though, brighten things up a bit from all of your guys’ shit,” Kim scoffs at the two of them.

Your brow furrows, not fully believing that sentiment as the trio begin bickering with another once more. 

“Everything may not be up to standards here for a lady,” Seungcheol sighs, almost sounding embarrassed at the state of the place, “You’re not a soldier so we can’t fully expect to treat you as such.”

“Then make her an assistant or something.” Jihoon suggests, “Do you need a page, Youngmin? Or you, Seungcheol?”

“It’s your idea, Lee,” Seungkwan pipes up once more, a teasing tinge to his voice, “you can’t just drop her onto someone else.” 

“That’s perfect, we can entrust Jihoon with her,” Youngmin smiles, playing along with Seungkwan’s antics.

“That settles it, I think,” Seungcheol nods, trying to suppress a laugh as he looks at the increasingly flustered commander. 

“You— You can’t just decide like that!” Jihoon barks angrily as those around him laugh. Their back and forth, while humorous to them, caused the relief you felt prior to chip away little by little with each of their jabs. 

It is eventually decided that you are to be Lee Jihoon’s page, if only for the time being, until your father is found. Rather than immediately give you a task to accomplish, the commander sends you back to your room, assuming that you probably hadn’t had a restful night and that your pagely duties would start the next morning. 

“I brought some clothes for you to change into,” a voice calls out from behind your closed door, it sounds like Eunseok. “The ones you’re wearing were a little bloodstained and I figured you might want to change,” he says as you allow him entry. 

“Thank you, Eunseok,” you nod as he sets down the pile of cloth on a nearby tabletop. “Do you think I’ll be here for very long?” 

“Hmm,” he thinks for a moment, “I’m not sure. I know we’ve been looking for your father for a while now, but with you joining us I’m sure it’ll help us out immensely.”

“I see…” you sigh as he begins to make his leave. “Thanks again, Eunseok.” 

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, “I’ll see if I can get some food brought to your room if you don’t want to join us for dinner yet.”

“Alright,” you nod and Eunseok exits your room, closing the door behind him as you’re left alone once more. As you rise to your feet and move your now unbound hands to reach out for the clothes the younger had brought, you can’t help but notice the dirt and dried gore adorning your hands. Had all this happened within a day of arriving in the capital? It feels surreal, almost like a dream that you haven't woken up from yet.

But as the hours passed, it is more and more obvious that this is now your home for the time being. And all the men, and their strange characters, are your company. 

You sigh as you begin to undress yourself, wondering when and how the mystery of your father’s disappearance will be solved.

curious to see what happens next? head on over to the route guide to see all available routes.

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a must read!

Loved the author's writing style, how it brings the historical settings to life and immerses the reader to the sights and sounds of Silla. The pacing was well-structured; balancing quieter, reflective moments to intense action. It is the very first chapter but I find myself deeply invested in the story and how it flows around all the characters.

spoilers below

Jisoo, is someone I'm really curious about, where he stands in the power dynamics and what exactly his ideologises are.

Where has father heo been hiding (or is he dead?) and what exactly was his role in the main city?

Does the reader have some special powers? as it was mentioned that she healed faster than most.

Is the heirloom blade of more importance than it seems?

I'm SO excited to get answers to these questions in the next parts!!!!! Keep up the excellent work author, rooting for this series 🤍

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦

pairing: lee jihoon x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical innacuarcies for the sake of plot progression word count: 33.5k

taglist: @hipsdofangirl

𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 17𝔱𝔥, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The cold, gray sky of winter greets you with its hollow breath as you swing the door to your room open, any heat that has accumulated overnight swiftly dissipating as swaths of blustery air invade the space. From the looks of it, thick, gray clouds had begun to accumulate over the city outside the walls of the Hwarang’s compound, forecasting at least a light blanket of snow in the coming hours. You’d have to make sure that the fires from the kitchen aren’t low so that the ondol keeps warm under the building’s floors. 

Before you move to exit the room, you reach to grab a jacket from your handful of things, sighing as you catch sight of a piece of paper hidden under your coat. It’s the letter that had brought you here in the first place. Nearly two weeks have passed since your arrival at the Hwarang’s headquarters, the same frigidity that had met you on your first meeting was still ingrained into them, the same distrust, no doubt, but it isn’t as if you can leave. 

 A frown as you look down at your clothes after shrugging the jacket onto your shoulders. Instead of your father’s clothes that you’d arrived in, they’d given you robes of their own. Not the blues of their commanders or warriors, but the deep green of their lesser ranks; of the pageboys, cooks, and less desirable positions within their numbers. They were and are foreign to you, you’d much rather wear the clothes that feel more familiar, even if they are men’s. But you aren’t meant to raise suspicion, just keep your head low until they find out more information of your father’s whereabouts. A female hiding out in the Hwarang’s headquarters would raise suspicion, start rumors, and with how much they hold themselves to a gold standard, it would be irreparable to their reputation. 

Jihoon, the Hwarang’s commander, had given you strict instructions to keep up the facade as a male. Saying that, while it would be harmful to their reputation if the word got out, it would also be a beacon for those looking for your father, or perhaps even you. Only those that you’d met on the first day, as well as a handful of others within their leadership, know of your true identity.

As you move your hands away from the hem of your jacket, your fingers brush against the blade that Jihoon had given back to you the day you’d arrived. It’d been somewhat ceremonial in your household, not a thing of use as there was no need for it. Your father had claimed it to be an heirloom kept in the family since the birth of Silla as a kingdom. You aren’t sure of the validity of that statement though, as the metal isn’t tinged with rust, it looks newly forged at times.

Regardless of the validity of the blade, your father made you take several lessons with your town’s local head guard, who’d only taught a girl because her father was a well-known physician. Also, because your father could treat any injury you sustained while practicing, which wasn’t ever needed as any scrapes or scratches you obtained healed fairly quickly. When you were little you didn’t think much of it. Yet as you grew older you realized that you healed faster than most. Your father said it must’ve been a gift from the Heavens but urged you not to tell anyone about it. And you hadn’t, fearing that those around you would treat you like a witch or a monster if they were to find out.

Swordplay was never something you took much interest in, seeing that you’d probably never put the techniques you’d learned to use. Besides, you aren’t a bloodthirsty fiend looking for a chance to use it anyway, you’d rather help people than hurt them. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts for a brief moment as a wang-do, one of the common Hwarang soldiers, passes by your room. They lock eyes with you for a moment, a scowl sneering onto their lips before they break their gaze and continue to stride past. Private rooms were only given to personnel of a higher rank within the Hwarang, and seeing how you are a newcomer, you can somewhat understand the resentment some of them have with your staying not in the typical quarters of those of your rank. 

With more guilt than not as you accept the hospitality of the Hwarang, you try to help out as much as you can, despite the wishes of the commander. To the average wang-do, it probably seems as if you’re receiving special treatment from the captains. Despite the actuality of them keeping watch over you to make sure you wouldn’t spew their secrets; it would be confusing, aggravating even, from an outsider’s perspective. But, even if you were allowed free reign of the headquarters, it’s not as if you could speak to any of them, most were nobles from families of high wealth. And your father isn’t poor by any means, but the wealth disparity between the nobles of the capital and nobles of the countryside is nothing to scoff at. 

So, you remain alone, for the time being, finding that the best way to not draw attention to yourself is to become practically invisible. Maybe if Jihoon allowed you to go out and search for your father you would find yourself more useful, but he’d just left for Hanseong a few days prior. Seeing as the man in charge of your stay here isn’t available, maybe your best bet would be to stay in your room until something of note happened, despite how aggravatingly boring it is. 

The room is practically empty, only a bed, a small chest of drawers and a writing desk to keep you company. It reminds you of when your father would leave for his patient visits, disappearing for days at a time and leaving you alone at home. Although it isn’t the same, those visits had the promise of return. Waiting for someone you knew would come back and waiting for the unknown are vastly different things.

As your reflections manifest into exasperated sighs, you barely notice the sound of approaching footsteps heading towards your room. 

“There you are!” Youngmin, the head of the Hwarang, exclaims once he catches sight of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you; I didn’t think you’d be in here!” He beams at you for a moment before stepping into the room with a tray in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” you apologize as he sets down the tray onto the writing desk nestled into the corner of the room. 

“Ah… wait… This is your room?” He questions as he straightens up, looking around at the interior for a moment. 

“It is,” you nod, wondering what he’s thinking about. 

“Then I just barged into a woman’s room without even announcing myself!” He looks flustered, his cheeks turning a tinge pink as he realizes his mistake and takes a few steps out of the room.

“It’s alright,” you try to assure him, “After all, it’s not like there’s anything here that I wouldn’t want you to see.”

“Hmm,” he sighs, trying to compose himself, “I thought since we’d assigned you to be Jihoon’s page your room would be next to his…” It seems as if Jihoon had neglected to inform Youngmin that you hadn’t actually been made a page. That isn’t in the least bit surprising with how coldly the commander had been treating you. 

“I’m not fully equipped to entertain guests, but you’re welcome to come in if you’d like,” you offer, motioning for him to come back inside the room.

“You don’t need to worry,” he waves his hand as if to brush off the thought, “And, if I may, I’ll take you up on your offer.” Youngmin then steps back into the room, and as if he notices your hesitant demeanor, he speaks up once more, “And please don’t feel nervous around me, as long as you’re here you’re a guest of the Hwarang.”

You offer him a small smile before looking down to the tray he’d carried in. A look of shock comes over your face as you realize what he’d brought, “This is—!”

Youngmin chuckles lightly, “I take it you’re a fan of sweets then? Jihoon’s adoptive mother likes to send them to us every once in a while, and hardly anyone touches them.” Several assorted hangwa lay on the dish, their colors vibrant against the gray gloom of the light shining in from outside, next to a steaming cup of tea. “Go ahead and have some, if you’d like.” 

“Thank you very much,” you nod and make your way over to gingerly pick up one of the confections. You look at the pink treat for a moment before taking a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness of it before turning back to Youngmin, “It’s delicious.” Snacks like this were only limited to holidays or festivals back home, it’s shocking to hear that Jihoon’s mother had sent such a thing on a whim. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he smiles. Something about Youngmin’s presence holds an aura of warmth, that makes you feel more relaxed than you had been with any other member of the Hwarang since your arrival. “Ah, I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to go outside?”

A nod, “That’s right. But if that’s what’s needed for me to stay here, I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble by going out.”

He looks almost sympathetic as he parts his lips once more, “I see… I’m glad you understand. I know that Jihoon can seem a little intimidating at first but he’s a truly caring man.”

To see the man who’d kept you in relative solitude for a few weeks as a caring person didn’t seem fully right… But Youngmin knows him much better than you do.

“He may be a little strict with you, but only because he’s trying to do what’s in your best interest.” Youngmin sighs, a telling sign that maybe he hadn’t agreed with everything Jihoon had done before. “I’ll speak to him once he gets back, I know this must be hellish for you, but I can only ask you to hang in for a bit longer.”

“Alright,” you nod, “Thank you.” Even if Youngmin’s visit hadn’t done much to change your living arrangement, it had lightened your mood ever so slightly. 

After Youngmin had departed and you’d been left to sulk in your room for a while, you notice that the sun was slowly sinking into the sky. The clouds of earlier in the day had parted to let the golden light shine onto the headquarters as the sun made its descent into the horizon. It feels as if time itself has stopped, the sun hanging in the same place for an unimaginably long time.

All this time in solitude is doing a number on both your mental and emotional state. Any hope of getting out of your isolation seems to slip with each passing moment you spend alone. You had come to the capital to find your father, not get swept up into a world where your life lay on the line should you slip up and say something you shouldn’t.

Even if they were showing you more hospitality than you could’ve asked for, you know that you can’t trust the Hwarang completely. 

“They can’t all be that bad… right?” you mutter to yourself as you sit at the small drawing table, flipping through the letters you’d brought with you.

“Has anyone ever called you ‘gullible’, before?” A voice behind you causing you to jump and turn to see who’d spoken. 

Your gaze hardens as you see Boo Seungkwan standing in your doorway, arms crossed with a small frown painted on his lips. “What are you doing here?” Asking as you push yourself to your feet, brushing off your pant legs before facing him fully. 

“You didn’t notice me? It’s my turn to keep watch over you,” he sighs, “You talk to yourself a lot, don’t you?”

Had you really been thinking aloud earlier? You bite your lip and try to mentally remind yourself to never do that again as you’d never know who could be listening in on you here. Before you can retort, Hansol steps in from the hallway.

“I think that’s enough picking on her, Seungkwan.” He frowns at the other.

“Did you hear me too?” You question, somewhat embarrassed about how this was playing out. 

“I only just arrived,” he shakes his head in the negative. “I came to tell you that dinner is ready but,” Hansol’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at you, noticing how incrementally flustered you’re getting, “have I interrupted something?”

“Nothing at all!” You insist, trying to calm yourself.

“I was going to let the two of you continue to speak, but if I had left you two alone, I knew that he’d probably try and get you out of sorts again,” Hansol notes somewhat stoically, probably thinking to the times where he’d been in the exact same situation. His shoulders shrug before the sound of more approaching footsteps reaches you. 

Soonyoung rushes into the room with loud, heavy stomps. His eyes are somewhat frantic, his voice somewhat annoyed as he speaks, “Hey! It’s dinnertime and I’m absolutely starving.” 

“Sorry about that, I’ll be there soon,” Hansol apologizes to the younger.

Soonyoung then looks to you, “You too, hurry up or Junhui’s gonna eat all of the food again.”

“Sorry Captain Kwon, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You say as he begins to turn on his heels to leave before stopping himself.

His lips purse together before he looks back at you, “Look… can you drop the ‘Captain Kwon’ thing? Just call me Soonyoung, everyone else here does.”

“Are you sure about that?” You question with an inquisitive tilt of your head.

“Why not? We’re practically the same age, aren’t we? And we don’t need honorifics either, I’m not one of those uptight nobles.” He frowns slightly.

“Alright then… Soonyoung.” 

“That’s more like it,” he grins, “Now let’s go.”

The walk to the dining area is more familiar than any other route you’d taken thus far during your stay with the Hwarang. Meals are the only time of day that you really are able to leave your room and have company, even if that company was the other captains of the Hwarang.

“You’re lateee,” a whine from Wen Junhui as he sits in front of his meal, the lids still atop the dishes so as to not let the steam out. “Who’s responsible for this? My stomach’s crying and I think my soup’s already gone cold,” he frowns as everyone finishes filing into the hall. 

“You mean ‘growling’,” Soonyoung snickers as he moves to take his seat next to Junhui, you move to sit on the other side of Junhui, next to Mingyu. “Sometimes it’s really easy to tell that you’re not from here.”

“That doesn’t even matter, you should all apologize to my stomach,” the taller’s hands fly to his abdomen as the remaining captains take their seats, “it’s been desperate for food since this morning’s practice routines.”

A small ‘tch’ from Mingyu as he rolls his eyes at the two, “A commoner correcting a noble, I never thought I’d see the day.” There’s a tinge of sarcasm to his voice as he speaks, the tone disappearing as he pipes up once more, “Alright, now that everyone’s here we can eat.”

There’s general chatter amongst the captains as they start to uncover their dishes and begin to dig into their meals. You sit and eat in relative silence until Junhui’s voice begins to raise on your right.

“There’s hardly enough here to feed a kid, let alone a guy like me,” you turn your head and watch his gaze trail down to Soonyoung’s tray to his right, “I guess I’ll have to take yours…” His now empty hands make a grab for the bowl of rice situated atop Soonyoung’s tray. “Survival of the—”

“Survival of the fittest my ass, Junhui,” the other retorts, sticking out his elbow and hitting the other square in the chest. There’s a hollow thud reverberating around Wen’s ribcage, it sounds painful, but he doesn’t look phased at all. But it did stop him from trying to snatch Soonyoung’s meal. “Why’re you always stealing my food?”

Junhui laughs, you hear Mingyu also let out a small chuckle to your left. “It’s because of the size difference, Soonyoung. I’ve got the bigger body; therefore I need more food.” 

“No way, I’ve gotta eat too!” Soonyoung protests, his elbow still locked in place trying to hold the other back. 

“You’d think they’d be more civil around a woman,” Mingyu, at the tailend of his laughter, notes about the two, “but they’re always like this.” 

“I think I’ve gotten used to it by now,” you respond, setting down the cup of tea you’d been drinking before looking at Hansol, who’s gaze seems to have drifted across the room to the bickering pair.

“How we’ve managed so long without them killing one another is beyond me,” he says before eating a spoonful of the soup in front of him. “Are you not eating?” Hansol questions Seungkwan, who sits next to him. The latter sits reclined back in his seat, seemingly watching the entertainment in front of him instead of touching his food.

“I’m alright. If I eat too much in one sitting I get slow.” He nods, reaching for his cup.

“What do you mean ‘slow’?” Junhui pokes, gaze shifting from Soonyoung to Seungkwan for a moment and then down to the food on the older’s plates. “But if you’re not going to eat…”

“Go for it,” Seungkwan scoots the tray forward with his elbow, passing it over to Junhui as his hand is still occupied with his cup. “As long as I’ve got makgeolli, I’m alright.” 

“Sounds like I’m going with makgeolli too,” Mingyu sighs and passes a few plates from his tray onto yours after noticing that most of your food was already eaten.  

“You don’t have to—” you begin to protest before Seungkwan speaks up again.  

“Don’t worry about eating too much or being a freeloader,” he says, a weird bubbling of guilt arising in your stomach. 

“I understand but I can’t help but feel a little bad…” You state as you look down to the newly acquired plates in front of you.  

“If you’re going to let that get to you, you’re never going to get anything you want,” Hansol says pointedly, continuing to eat the mix of soup in front of him.  

“A- alright,” you nod, picking up your utensils again and beginning to pick at the newfound food on your tray. Because you never had much contact with others during the daytime, it makes having dinner with the captains something of an entertaining and frightening experience every night. But it’s fun. A small smile curls onto your lips at the thought of some normalcy for a moment when you hear Mingyu speak again.

“You know we’re not going to hurt you, right?” He’d seen your smile, probably seeing it as you begin to relax, and he seeks to soothe your anxieties about them even more so. His own lips have a soft smile of their own, an honesty brimming with it. Maybe they’d all been trying to put you at ease with their antics.  

It was troublesome to navigate, you have conflicted feelings about staying with them and taking up their time and resources, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. They seemed to realize that too and instead of scorning you for it, were trying to make the best of it.  

But before you could ponder on the notion for much longer, Song Eunseok enters the room.  

“Captains?” He asks somewhat quietly, but the noise of his arrival had turned all heads towards him. “Do you have a moment?” Voice soft as usual, his eyes teem with a quiet anxiety that you hadn’t ever seen during your brief acquaintance with him. The gaiety that had once erupted in the room comes to a fizz as he begins to speak once more, “I’ve just gotten a letter from Sabi, Seungcheol’s been gravely injured during a skirmish.” 

Your brows raise as Seungkwan shouts out, “What the hell happened?!”  

“A group of Baekje revivalists were laying siege to the chancellor’s home, Seungcheol and Jihoon arrived in time to subdue them, however, Seungcheol was injured at some point during the fight.” 

“Is he going to be alright?” You ask, your hands clenching together, nails digging into the skin.  

“According to Jihoon's letter he is gravely hurt, but the wound is on his left arm.” Eunseok’s teeth gnaw at the insides of his cheek for a moment, “It will be hard for him to draw an arrow or wield a blade but it’s almost certain that he will survive this.”   

“That’s good,” a sigh of relief leaving you, but the air lies tense from the other captains as they await more answers regarding their comrade’s status.  

“Seungcheol should be returning in a few days,” Eunseok nods, a solemn tone to his voice, “I’ll go and talk with Kwak some more regarding the situation, if anything else arises I’ll let you know.” He was already halfway out the door by the time he finished speaking, talking over his shoulder in a bated anxiety to rival that of the rest of the room.  

“An injury so bad he can’t hold a bow or sword?” Hansol almost thinks aloud, “He may have severed an artery. He may never carry a blade again if that’s true…” You now begin to understand the severity of the situation, why the air grew heavy and the voices grew low. “If he were to fight one handed against an opponent of similar skill he would almost certainly lose.”  

“... If push comes to shove he’ll have to take it. Seungcheol’s not just going to give up like that,” Seungkwan frowns, the cup in his hand settling down onto the table in front of him with a small clink before his hands fall into his lap.  

“Don’t say that, Boo,” Junhui’s face mirrors an equal grimace to that of the elder’s. “It’ll look bad if captains start joining the Furies.”  

“... Who?” You question, trying to follow their conversation as best you could but finding yourself lost as they begin to speak of things unknown to you. “The Furies?” 

“Furies,” Soonyoung begins, “They come from something you drink where any injury can be cur—” 

“Soonyoung!” Before you know it, Mingyu is on his feet and striding around you to the young captain. The elder captain’s hand reaches down and pulls up the younger by the front of his robes.  

“Ah—” Soonyoung’s voice catches in his throat, his eyes go wide as if he’s realized he’d said something that he shouldn’t have. 

“You’re overreacting, Kim.” Junhui stands, trying to pry Mingyu’s irontight grasp away from Soonyoung. “It’s my fault anyway, I said something first.” When Mingyu relinquishes Soonyoung’s green robes from his grip, Junhui shoots the younger a sympathetic look, “Sorry.” 

“I should’ve watched myself,” Soonyoung sighs, his hands moving to straighten his now wrinkled garment.  

Junhui’s gaze then turns to you, his tone becoming sterner, “Everything you just heard is something you should never repeat. I know you’re probably curious, but we can’t say anything else about it, so don’t ask.” The cold weight hiding behind his eyes is enough to make you feel uneasy about what you’d just heard. You’re not even sure what they were talking about, but it seems important enough to stay a secret.  

“Those Furies that Soonyoung was talking about are pitiful men,” Seungkwan states as he pushes himself to his feet. His voice held none of the snideness that it normally had, taking on a flatter and emotionless tone. A sate sort of melancholy coming over him, it’s clear he has something on his mind.  

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” Junhui says to you as he breaks the silence, “So don’t try and get worked up about it.” 

Seeing as you were only a guest of the Hwarang and not an actual member among their ranks, you can understand their secrets. But it doesn’t make you any less curious.  

“Try your best to forget about it,” Hansol warns, not so much to you but to your circumstance, “The more involved you become with our affairs will only put you in more danger.” 

The wall built up between you and the captains was almost tangible at this point, not an easy thing to scale or break through. 

Dinner ended in relative silence, you excused yourself to your room and hurried back to collect your thoughts. You exhale a large sigh as you enter, your mind hopping from the fate of the Hwarang’s colonel to what the Furies were. It reminds you of the rakshasa from the Buddhist texts your father had made you read as a young girl. The phrases ‘something you drink’ and ‘becoming a Fury’ bounce around your skull before you stop yourself. Hansol had asked you to forget, but it feels as if him saying that only makes you want to remember. 

For whatever reason, the Hwarang captains were keeping hush about whatever ordeal was occurring. Was it to protect you? Regardless, sticking your nose into their business would only be detrimental to your stay with them. 

With that in mind you try to clear your head as best you can before slipping into bed and trying to drift off to sleep. 

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 3𝔯𝔡, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s been a little over two months since you’d joined the Hwarang at the headquarters in Seorabeol. Jihoon and Seungcheol had returned from their expedition to Sabi, but morale among the men was low. For a while after their return, due to Seungcheol’s injury, a few operations within the organization became hectic due to his absence. The wounds he’d acquired were grim, draining most of the goodness in his nature before your very eyes. He’d spend days locked away in his room, the silence deafening to those who would venture in and try to speak to him.  

On the rare occasion that he did leave his room, his temper lay short before he’d barricade himself away in his abode once more. The Hwarang had offered to let him return to his family for recovery’s sake, but he insisted that his duty remain with his compatriots, despite his abysmal attitude.  

Even though you too were holed up away inside of your room, the ways in which the two of you coped with the ordeal were vastly different. Seungcheol was trapped within himself, fallen from whatever pedestal he thought was his to a mere memory of what once was. You, on the other hand, were merely looking for ways to help your hosts.  

In doing so, you now find yourself wandering the halls of the Hwarang’s main building looking for Lee Jihoon, who hopefully has an assignment for you to complete. Much in fashion for the commander, he was nowhere to be seen. You debate on whether it would be impolite to go to his room directly when an unknown soldier walks up to you. 

Their face is unfamiliar to you and they aren’t wearing the blue robes associated with the Hwarang on patrol. There is a chance you’d never seen them before, but by the way they are looking at you, you can surmise that that isn’t the case.  

“You… wouldn’t have happened to have seen Commander Lee… would you?” You ask as they approach, their gait long and almost prideful.  

“And who are you?” They question, looking you over with scathing eyes as if to detect your character, “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” 

“Oh well… it’s a long story,” you mumble out, noticing their gaze sharpening on you.  

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Their voice raises, the sternness only growing, “Answer me!” 

Fumbling out your words, you introduce yourself quickly.  

“Hmm,” he ponders, gaze softening ever so slightly, “I heard that the Commander recently acquired an apprentice warrior as a new page, it must be you.”  

“I am,” you respond with faux cocksureness, not realizing that the men had referred to you as an apprentice warrior under the Hwarang.  

“Why don’t you enlighten me on how you came to know the Chief and Commander?” The man’s scrutinizing gaze continues as you straighten your posture, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I heard you’re from Toehwa-hyeon, but how were you able to squeeze your way in here?” 

“I didn’t ‘squeeze my way in here’,” you retort, not liking how this man was addressing you.

“Judging by how defensive you’re being, it sounds as if I’ve gotten it right.” He almost scoffs at you in disbelief, “This isn’t some place for a common boy without any worth in his duties or on the battlefield to walk in without earning it. I’ll ask you one last time: how did you come to know the Chief and Commander?”  

You stay silent, unsure of how to address him or what answer would be the right one. Yet, before you can begin to formulate a response, he steps forward and grabs the sleeve of your robes, “I, Suh Kangjoon, am asking you a question.” With the way he states his own name, it’s as if he’s trying to signal himself as someone of importance, but you’d never heard the other captains speak of him before. “What makes you think you can ignore me?” Rather than have a calm air as he asked, his tone had almost shifted to that of a petulant child.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice barks off to the side, coming from one of the hall’s entranceways. Both Kangjoon and you turn to see Jihoon standing in the doorway, an almost scowl painting his lips as he watches the scene before him. Once Kangjoon had realized it was him, his hand falls away from clutching at your robes and returns to his side.  

“Very well, Commander,” he wets his lips as Jihoon approaches before clearing his throat and speaking once again. “I’m here on business with Gukseon Kwak.” 

“Is that right?” Jihoon’s voice is tipped with a poisonous edge, as if he didn’t fully trust the character in front of you. “He failed to mention that to me.” 

“He wrote to me with special orders to aid him while Colonel Choi is out of commission,” he begins, “I have the letter if you’d like to read it.”

“That’s quite alright,” Jihoon waves him off, “but I think it’d be in your interest to know that Kwak is out on training runs with Kwon’s squadron today.” 

“Then I suppose I’ll have to come back at a later date,” the air of faux civility between the two was nearly palpable, Jihoon doing nothing to hide his distaste whereas Kangjoon only looked at him snidely. The newcomer begins to turn on his heels, heading for the exit before his pace slows and leaves the two of you with a few words, “Is it true that you’ve welcomed him as your page, Commander?” 

“Yes,” Jihoon nods, glancing at you for a moment before returning to look at the other, “but it’s no concern to you.” 

A flash of an uncaring smile, “Forgive me, then. I’ll try not to ask more as it seems to be out of my jurisdiction.” Another step before he stills, “I do, however, question your predisposition toward keeping those from higher ranks close to you,” his eyes widen in faux surprise, “Ah, it seems I’ve forgotten myself, please excuse me.”  

Once the stranger has exited the building, only then do you feel a sigh of relief overcome you. But before you have the chance to dwell on it for too long, Jihoon speaks up. 

“You shouldn’t be walking around the headquarters without my permission, you know.” 

“I understand, Commander, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you begin to apologize. 

“Your presence here isn’t known by the other factions of the Hwarang, only those staying here at Shoshin,” He explains, “be mindful of anyone that isn’t a Hwarang from this sect, understood?” 

“Understood,” you nod. “But, can I ask who that man was?”

“That man is a captain of the Hanseong Hwarang. His name is Suh Kangjoon.” Jihoon looks as if he’s wracking his brain for an adequate description of the man, “His archery and swordsmanship are decent, but he’s well read and has a knack for military tactics.” His voice lowers a bit for his next statement. “He’s cunning, so be careful.” 

“Okay.”

 “Regardless of that,” his voice back to a decent volume as his gaze hardens at you, “if you’re not attending to someone then I fully expect you to stay put in your room.” With that, you suppose, he meant to dismiss you back to your quarters as any strict commander should and would have done. Yet, you still have something to ask of him. 

“I actually wanted to ask you something, Commander,” you start, trying your best to look him in the eye instead of anywhere else, “Staying in my room alone for so long makes me feel utterly useless. Is there anything I can do around the compound to make me feel less-than-adequate while I stay here?” 

“You truly can’t find something productive to do in your room?” Almost as if the sincerity of your prior statement was beginning to make him think, his harsh gaze softens just a bit.  

“Not at all,” you shake your head. 

A sigh, “Very well, then. I’ll talk with the other captains about it, so, until then just be on standby.” His arms cross, his gaze once again turning stern, “This is under the condition that you are to keep yourself from interacting with anyone that is not a Hwarang of Shoshin Temple, alright?” 

“Of course,” you can’t help a small smile curling onto your lips, “But… thank you.” 

The two of you part not long after that, and you find the next day via Eunseok that you’re allowed to freely roam the compound now. Albeit you have a few tasks to help out with; cleaning, laundry, and cooking. It isn’t a glamorous job but it is something you’re accustomed to. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The air thick with a humidity sweeping in from the coast, the entirety of the Kingdom of Silla lies in mourning after the death of the posthumously named King Taejong Muyeol. With the lauded last year's effort of him uniting both Silla and Baekje, the former kingdom to the west of Silla, hanging over the heads of every citizen, his death felt like a sharp blow to all. For the first few days of the month, the Hwarang had traveled to Banweolseong, the King’s palace, to pay their respects to the fallen monarch, leaving you alone with only Eunseok as company.  

 Once the Hwarang had steadily returned to the compounds, an air of normalcy once again began to hang over the inhabitants and the buildings themselves. Yet, midway through the month, Emperor Gaozong of the Tang dynasty called in aid from Silla to attack the kingdom of Gogoryeo. The kingdom resides to the north, and the Tang emperor wished to pincer it from both sides so that it would fall under either Tang or Silla rule.

Whereas this may have been the wishes of Taejong Muyeol, the new king, Munmu, found issue in sending out an army so close to the prior monarch’s death. Yet, as an almost tributary state to the Tang, Silla was forced to comply by sending soldiers to the front. No members of the Hwarang were called, as they were to remain in their cities and keep patrol when the officers that normally stood guard could not.  

It’s a cooler day of the beginning of summer, you’d just come back to your room with your laundry when Hansol appears at your door. He stands there for a moment, allowing you to put down the basket of clothes in your hands before speaking, “Commander Lee would like a word with you.” 

A wordless nod and you begin to follow after him. Hansol leads you to the main hall, only stopping at the entranceway and gesturing you inside, you step into the room and hear Hansol go in behind you, closing the door after he enters. Looking around, you spot Jihoon, Seungkwan, Mingyu, Junhui and Soonyoung standing around the hall. It seems as if only the captains and you had been summoned for this meeting.  

“I know you’ve been waiting for this, but the time has come to finally let you out,” Jihoon says once everyone’s settled into a comfortable silence.  

Your lips part and you can barely contain the gasp forming in the back of your throat, “Really?” Unable to contain your excitement, you try to compose yourself before speaking again. “So, there really was someone who saw my father in Hwango-dong?” You question, only hearing rumors of someone who’d seen a man with your father’s profile in one of the city’s districts.  

“We’re not sure if it’s true or not,” Jihoon cedes as he nods his head, “It’s our intention to let you verify for us. Considering that you’d recognize him the best out of everyone here.” 

“So, where is this man who said he saw him?”  

“The initial report outlines Jeolin Inn in Hwango-dong, Hansol’s assigned to do a preliminary check.” Both your and his attention turn to the man Jihoon had named. Did this mean that you were to accompany him to check or were you to wait here until after he’d swept the area? 

“That doesn’t mean that Heo is a guest of the inn though,” Kim chimes in. 

“Yeah,” Junhui agrees, “Being sighted in Hwango-dong could just mean he was walking around Seorabeol.”  

“Exactly,” Jihoon sighs, crossing his arms and looking at Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu, “That’s why I’m asking the three of you to take her out on your rounds to assist her in her search.” 

“All of us?” Soonyoung’s head tilts in confusion, “We normally split up and go our separate ways on our rounds.” 

Rather than entertaining Soonyoung with a response, Jihoon looks back to you. It was a quiet way to say that they were still in charge of looking over you, needing to make sure you wouldn’t try and make a break for it should they take you out in search for your father. 

“We get what you’re trying to say, Jihoon,” Seungkwan notes, “but I don’t like that you’re making us do all of the babysitting. I thought you were planning on patrolling as well?” The teasing lilt to his voice returns, “So, for your benefit why don’t you show your adorable page the ropes by taking her out with you?”

 “Aren’t you the one who pushed her onto me?” Jihoon scoffs, “I’m not taking any of your shit today, Boo. She isn’t my page.” 

“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t, but a lot of the wang-do are beginning to believe it.” Seungkwan notes, crossing his own arms. “There’s always a grain of truth in every lie, so why don’t you give her a job already?” 

As the two continue their stalemating conversation, Mingyu moves to your side and whispers something to you, “Seorabeol isn’t the safest place right now, as you know, so you don’t have to force yourself to leave. I mean we all know what your dad looks like, so it’s not just your risk alone to bear.”  

It seems like you could either explore where your father had last been seen, patrol the surrounding area, accompany Jihoon as his page, or stay here, from what Mingyu had suggested.  

“Then let me be your page, Jihoon,” you say as Mingyu backs away from your side.  

The commander looks at you, something of a distressed light in his eyes, “What?” His voice trembles irately as if the thought of you accompanying him troubles him.  

“I mean, walking around town with you may help with getting leads to find my father, right?” You suggest, adding on seconds later, “And if the wang-do are questioning my place, wouldn’t it be in our best interest for me to act like your page? It might convince them.” 

Jihoon’s expression sours at your words, “There’s no need to take Seungkwan’s words at face value you know, he likes to mess around and have fun with his wor—”  

“Now aren’t you happy to have a cute little page?” Seungkwan smirks as Jihoon stares at him bitterly for cutting him off.  

“Very well,” Jihoon frowns and looks back to you, “you better make sure you stay out of my way though.” 

After nearly five months since your arrival at the Hwarang headquarters, you’re finally able to leave it. The world has changed, green leaves and flowering blooms greeting you as you and Jihoon make your way through the streets of the city. It was more alive than you had left it earlier in the year. 

“I don’t know how it ended up this way,” Jihoon grumbles to himself as the two of you walk through the crowds of Seorabeol. “But I can’t not keep my word…” He keeps himself a few paces in front of you, his mood and tone keeping you somewhat on edge. His attitude had the ability to dictate your own inner thoughts, to question if it really was your place to be here with him.  

As the two of you pass by what looks to be a tea shop, you hear a voice call out to Jihoon. 

“Commander!” A man looking similar in age to you shouts and makes his way over. He doesn’t wear the blue robes that Jihoon had donned in order to patrol the streets, but with the way he was received, it seems like he was a friend. “I have a report that needs to be disclosed as soon as possible.” But if he had called Jihoon ‘Commander’, wouldn’t he still have to be a part of the Hwarang? 

The man steps forward and whispers something into Jihoon’s ear. Jihoon’s eyes widen and then his face goes blank before he turns to you, “I have an urgent matter to attend to.” He looks to the shop you’d stopped in front of, “I’m entrusting you to stay here and ask about Heo.”

“You want me to stay here alone…?” You question, glancing at the shop, “Would that be alright with you?” 

Jihoon stares at you for a moment as if he’s trying to decipher any of your hidden thoughts, “Did you plan on accompanying me just so you could run away?” The pit of your stomach drops at his words. 

“Of course not!” You defend yourself. 

“Then don’t bother me with asinine questions,” he sighs, “Do what I told you and wait here for me to come back, okay?”

 “Okay.”  

And just like that, Jihoon and the newcomer race down the street away from you. Your eyes once again travel to the tea shop, a sigh escapes you before you head inside. The heavy smell of tea rises from every corner of the room, several patrons sit at small tables discussing various topics as you enter. But you aren’t there for that. So, you make your way over to the shopkeeper and inquire about your father.  

Asking him had given you no leads, nor had asking any of the customers coming in or leaving the shop over the course of the next hour. It seemed as if no one knew about your father’s whereabouts. You now sit at a table in the shop, the tea in front of you becoming cold as fragments of leaves swirl around the small cup.  

“The Hwarang are here to conduct a search!” A familiar voice booms at the entrance of the shop, “Everyone, remain calm. Who’s the shopkeeper here?” The last you’d seen this man, he hadn’t been wearing the blues of the Hwarang. It is Suh Kangjoon, one of the captains of the Hwarang’s Hanseong unit, what was he doing here? 

“I’m the owner here,” the frail voice of the elderly man who you’d questioned earlier speaks up, “What is the meaning of your visit?” 

A small ‘tch’ before Kangjoon continues, “I shouldn’t even have to explain myself… It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve allowed Baekje revivalists to conduct their business within this shop.” His voice forceful, unabiding, “What exactly are you plotting? If you don’t answer me, I’ll be forced to take you to headquarters where you will be questioned.” 

“That’s absurd!” The shopkeeper exclaims, “I would never allow that here.” 

“Oh? Then are you questioning the credibility of the Hwarang?” Kangjoon frowns, his eyes narrowing at the elderly man. 

 “Of course I’m not,” sweat begins to glisten on the elderly man’s brow, seemingly terrified at the respect that Kangjoon was asking from him. Kangjoon then scans the store, looking at the patrons, you manage to look away before he has the chance to recognize you.   

“It’s in our best interest to let local shops run unimpeded,” Kangjoon says, his attention returning to the shopkeeper. “So, depending on how well you… cooperate with us, perhaps I could make this little disturbance disappear.” 

“Are you implying…” The shopkeeper's voice dies down before he finishes the thought.

“I’m only suggesting that it would be beneficial to you to share some of your… goodwill.” A coy smile etches itself onto Kangjoon’s lips. Although it isn’t explicitly said, it’s clear that he is soliciting a bribe. 

“I— I can’t afford something like that,” the shopkeep cries out, “There isn’t even anything suspicious happening here!”  

“Hmm?” Kangjoon says, “You’re refusing to help the Hwarang? We’re the protectors of Silla, you know.” 

“I would never do such a thing!”  

“If you refuse to cooperate then I’ll have to take you back to headquarters,” Kangjoon’s voice grows even more stern, “You must be a Baekje sympathizer.”  

“N- No, I’m not!” The man protests.  

The whole conversation makes you feel sick to your stomach, you’re about to speak out when someone puts their hand on your shoulder, rendering you unable to move from your seat. 

“Shh,” they say, their voice rather soft and melodic in your ear as they continue, “Someone like you shouldn’t get involved in such a dangerous situation. He won’t hesitate to cut down anyone in his way.” By the way he looks, you could think him to be some sort of stage actor, but with the sword hanging by his side you know he isn’t as such. “Just leave this to me.” The softness of his voice calms you, and you sit back down in your seat before watching him proceed. 

“Can I ask something?” The stranger says as he walks towards Kangjoon and the shopkeeper, his eyes trained on the malefactor. “You’re with the Hwarang, right?” 

Kangjoon turns, obviously surprised that someone would interrupt him in this situation.  

“I am, why does that matter to you?” He questions with a sneer.  

“The owner of this tea shop has clearly stated he isn’t allowing any Baekje revivalists to meet here,” the stranger says calmly. “So, with what charges were you going to place on him to allow you to question him at your headquarters?” 

“How dare you question me like this,” Kangjoon frowns, “You must be one of those revivalists, right? I should’ve known you’d turn up.” 

“Just because I question you, I’m an enemy?” The man sighs out, “I suppose a fair investigation is out of the question.” 

“You are preventing me from delivering the Crown’s justice, which is enough proof for me,” Kangjoon nods. 

“Very well, then,” The man nods, “If things are going to escalate, would you mind heading outside? I wouldn’t want to upset anyone here.” 

“You sound afraid of getting your pretty little face bloodied up,” Kangjoon scoffs, “Not surprising.” 

Kangjoon then puffs up his chest following the other man outside the store to challenge him to a fight. You quickly follow the pair and watch the scene unfold. Kangjoon’s smirk remains on his face as the two meet each other. He begins to reach for his blade to threaten the newcomer, assuming an offensive stance. 

Yet, before he can pull the blade from its sheath, the other man moves to cover the scabbard’s mouth.  

“Let go! Or else—” Kangjoon shouts before the other begins to speak. 

“You weren’t really going to draw your sword, were you?” The man questions with a small smile and tilt of his head. “If you were, then things between us may get serious, and I’m not sure you’re ready for that.” The duality of the man is easy to see: one side a soft spoken and gentle face; the other is clearly a fighter.  

Suh Kangjoon must feel this duality, because after the man says his piece, he makes no move to draw his blade. A crowd had begun to form around the two men, curious as to what the incident was and what would happen.  

“It seems as if we’re drawing in a crowd,” the man notes. “Are you still planning on fighting?” 

“I never forget a face,” Kangjoon huffs and angrily shakes off the man’s hand. “I will make you live to regret this day.” His face flush with an unholy fury, he spins on his heels and disappears into the crowds of the street.  

The tension from the moments prior dissipates, the crowd surrounding the pair is beginning to dissolve as well. You breathe a sigh of relief as things haven't come to a bloodied fight.  

“That could’ve been ugly,” the man notes, turning his head from watching his opponent saunter off towards you, “Let’s go inside and check on the shopkeeper.”  

“Are you okay?” You ask, there hadn’t been a fight but you’re not sure you could’ve stood up to Kangjoon in that way. 

“Yes,” he nods, “that was nothing.” 

“Why were you willing to risk your life like that against him? You didn’t have to stop me.”  

A slight pink tinges his cheeks as he answers timidly, “To be honest, you reminded me of someone from a long time ago.” 

“Me?” Perplexion in your voice as the comment settles strangely inside you. 

“Yes,” he nods, a small smile on his lips, “you even get flustered like them.” He studies your face for a moment, noting a few things that must be similar to the person he knew. Even if that is somewhat flattering, you still have no idea who this man is. 

“You must’ve mistaken me for someone else,” You bow slightly, and he looks a little taken aback.  

“My apologies, then,” he chuckles, “It seems as if I’m simply mistaken.” He glances towards the shop entrance, “Let’s go back inside, I’m sure your tea and snacks are ruined by now.” His demeanor is overtly gentle, nearly impossible to resist as he draws you back into the shop. 

Upon entering the store, the owner smiles and brings the two of you freshly brewed tea. And once seated back down at your table, you realize there are an assortment of treats waiting for you that hadn’t been there prior. 

“You didn’t have to do this—” the man says to the shopkeeper. 

“Please don’t worry about it,” the elderly man smiles, setting the pot down atop your table as the younger man takes a seat across from you. “You saved me and my shop today, it’s the least I can do.” 

“It was nothing,” the man says shyly, “I didn’t do anything to deserve such kindness. But thank you, I love sweets.” 

“Don’t be shy and have as much as you want,” the owner seems to bow after every sentence, returning to the counter after he’d finished to attend to his other customers.  

“Would you like some?” The man asks and offers out the plate of snacks to you. 

“I think the owner means for you to eat all of this,” you note, you’d feel guilty if you’d indulged in the treats.  

“If you say so,” the man says, setting down the plate and picking up one of the tteok. A smile overcomes him as he enjoys the treat, you’re not sure if you’d ever seen a warrior smile this much. Yet, with every bite he grins like a small child, almost as if he were the happiest man alive. By now you assume it’s safe to surmise that you were close in age with the way he is conducting himself. 

“I suppose it’s time for me to pay my tab,” the man says once he’s finished his tea and a few of the snacks from the plate. He moves to stand, saying something to you as he does, “I’ll be leaving now. Please be careful and try your best to avoid trouble, okay?” 

He leaves before you have the chance to respond, drifting from the store like a ghost after he’d finished paying his bill. The man had given you little to no time to thank him for his actions earlier, so you stand from your table and rush outside to try and find him.

 “Wait!” You call out to him as you race through the exit.  

He’d stopped in his tracks when he’d heard you shout after him, turning on his heels to face you, “Is something wrong?” 

“Thank you for earlier,” you bow down, “You probably saved my life.” 

He chuckles almost humbly as you stand back up, “I really didn’t do anything to warrant this much of a thanks.” His gaze wanders from you to look down the street, “Although it does seem like the Hwarang are losing their grip on some of their members… If today’s incident was any indication of that, I can’t blame people for losing trust in them.”  

“Ah,” you frown, wondering how much people like Kangjoon were responsible for that distrust. “Kangjoon is a cruel man, I don’t think most of the Hwarang would ever treat someone like that. Even if someone’s born a noble, or even joins the Hwarang, it doesn’t automatically make them a good person.” 

“I know,” he looks back at you and nods solemnly, “I don’t think that he represents what the Hwarang stands for at all.” The man continues to look at you for a moment, searching your eyes as if they held a key to something. It looks as if he has something to say, but before he lets it slip past his lips he turns back to the street, he calls out your name before speaking once again, “I guess I’ll be on my way.” 

Your eyes widen as he begins to walk. How did he know your name? The man turns his back fully to you and begins to walk away, disappearing in the thicket of people on the street. You don’t have much time to question who that man was and why he seems to know you before you see Jihoon in the distance, stalking towards the tea shop.  

“Sorry for making you wait so long,” the commander frowns, looking towards the shop as he stops in front of you, “Did you find out any information about your father?” 

You shake your head at him, a small frown coating your lips, “Nothing.”

 “I see,” he sighs, “It’s not like people around here are very prone to talking, either. Don’t let that get you down.”

As the sun begins to make its descent into the sky, the two of you begin to walk back to the Hwarang’s headquarters. You begin to fill him in on what had happened at the tea shop, a scowl forming as he mulls over what you say.

“Kangjoon did what?” It was a palpable rage exuding from him, but not to the extent he needed to lash out at someone. “Don’t tell anyone about what happened today, not even the captains. Alright?” You nod as he continues, “It’s nothing you haven’t heard before but never let your guard down, especially around people you don’t know. The Hwarang has to protect its secrets, sometimes even from its own members. Especially from that idiot.” Sensing that he was talking about Kangjoon, you nod once again.

After that he continues to prod more questions from you about the events earlier in the day. “You mentioned that a soldier, or someone like that, came to your aid in the tea shop. Do you know anything about him?”

Eyes widening as you realize, “I didn’t even ask him his name…”  

“How the hell am I supposed to thank him now?” Jihoon sighs out frustratedly.

 “It all happened so fast I barely had time to catch my own breath,” you try to explain, mentally scolding yourself for your carelessness.  

“I… that’s understandable. If you happen to cross paths again, ask for his name.” He mutters something out under his breath, “Despite that, I’m sorry we didn’t get any relevant information about your father today. Hopefully either Captain Choi or Wen found something of note.” 

 Upon returning to the compound, it was relayed to you that the sighting of your father at the Inn had been false. It pierced you as the sliver of hope you had of finding your father soon slipped quickly and quietly from your grasp. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 7𝔱𝔥, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Kwon Soonyoung and Boo Seungkwan stand in the great hall as you enter. The past few weeks had given you no information on the whereabouts of your father, despite you going on patrol rounds with the different Hwarang captains. You assume the information, or lack of, was the reason for your summoning today by Lee Jihoon. Although the presence of the other two Hwarang captains makes you feel somewhat more relieved that you wouldn’t have to face the demon commander alone.  

“You asked to see me?” There’s a sour look on Jihoon’s face as you ask, something clearly eating away at him.  

“It’s about your father,” he begins, and you perk up for a moment. Jihoon’s frown stays on his face as he looks at you, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you can already tell you won’t like what he says. “I think it’s best we stop searching for him for the time being.” 

“Why?” You can hardly stop yourself from blurting out the question. You’d only been able to search for him for what felt like a handful of weeks, if you were to stop now there was a major possibility you could lose any leads you have.  

Jihoon remains collected, his arms crossing as he speaks again, “We have reports of activity from Baekje loyalists. It would be more than foolish to let you wander the streets in search of your father at a time like this.” 

 You recall your encounter a month ago with Kangjoon at the tea shop. He’d been in search of Baekje spies… was the issue really becoming that bad? It was surely one thing to lose one’s homeland, but Silla had been nothing but civil to the former kingdom’s people, or so you’d heard.  

“Then, are you asking me to stay here until things are resolved with the loyalists?” You question with a tilt of your head, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.  

The commander nods before turning to Soonyoung and Seungkwan, “That being said, as for now she isn’t to accompany any captain on their rounds.” 

“So that’s why you pulled us in here?” The question is more like a musing as it falls from Soonyoung. It seems like he too hadn’t known why he was called here, and it was now beginning to click. “You know, she’s never caused any issues when we took her on our rounds… It feels kind of bad now that she can’t tag along.” 

“Mhm,” Seungkwan nods, “even if something were to happen, as long as she’s not hopping into the fray it should be alright. Besides,” he smirks at you, “it’s not like she could outrun us if she tries to escape.”

 “I won’t run,” you protest firmly, knowing that he was fully joking. Eyes lingering on Seungkwan for a moment before you look back to Jihoon, “I made a promise when I agreed to stay here. I promised I’d look for my father, I can’t hold myself to that if you won’t let me.” 

“Staying with us is putting yourself at risk,” Seungkwan shrugs in your periphery, “if you don’t mind that, I don’t mind you joining us.” His gaze travels to Jihoon, his lips parting, “We’ve had witness reports, I don’t see why we should stop looking when we still have information coming in.” 

“You might have a point, Boo. But are witness reports a justifiable reason to put her in harm’s way?” The commander rebukes, his hands falling to his sides. “By taking her out with us, we’re placing an unnecessary burden on our shoulders.” 

“If I lose the opportunity to search for my father,” fists clenching at your sides, your nails digging into the skin of your palms, “then any future chances of finding him will be nearly impossible.” 

Jihoon looks at you, eyes searching yours, his gaze hardening. You think he’s about to refute you before he starts speaking again. “You need to follow the orders of every captain you’re on patrol with. No sidetracking them. Am I clear?”

 “Yes,” you nod, “of course.” Unsure of how to show your gratitude, you bow towards him. 

“I’m not going to be the one ordering you to join them,” the commander huffs as you rise, “that’s up to your discretion.” 

By the way that the commander spoke, it seems as if he doesn’t want you to leave the compound for whatever reason. You’re unsure what’s caused the full shift in his attitude towards you accompanying the men out on patrol, but for now it’s probably your best bet to stay within the compound for the time being. 

After a few quiet goodbyes, you return to your room. Jihoon’s words of caution reside in your eardrums, you know they’d plague you should you have chosen to go out with either Soonyoung or Seungkwan. So, until that beast of guilt renders itself immobile, you’ll hole yourself up in the headquarters. Staying inside doesn’t make you happy, it reminds you of the first few weeks you’d spent here. Alone and outcast in a world of unfamiliar faces.  

Yet, unlike a few months ago, you now had free roam of the buildings and grounds. Now you find yourself exiting your room, heading towards one of the courtyards littered around the headquarters’ interior.  A soft, summer breeze drifts through the almost-gardens as you enter. The sickly-sweet smell of the decaying flowers from the spring hitting your nose.  

You sit in the courtyard for a while, the soft gusts of wind eventually dying down and forcing you to take the heat of the sun in all its glory. A sheen of sweat coats your brow as you look towards the white clouds in the sky that refuse to block out the sun.  

With little to think about in your ponderance, your thoughts shift from the now blistering heat to your father. You hadn’t thought about it much since your arrival, but the Hwarang had heard of him. Had they been patients of his? Or perhaps he was talking of diseases and how to prevent them the best they could… 

The more you think on the subject, the more a pinpoint of a headache begins to grow. You know that the Hwarang have enough secrets without the aid of your father, but you’re not doubtful that your father may be the cause of some of them. 

“Did they really leave you alone out here?” You jump at the voice behind you, too lost in thought to hear light footsteps approach.  

“Ah,” spinning on your heels, you're met face-to-face with the Hwarang’s colonel. “Seungcheol… is it okay for you to be out here?” Your gaze drops to his bandaged arm, still not yet healed from his wound earlier in the year. 

“It’s not like I need to be bedridden,” he chuckles, gently raising his arm as if to show you it had some movement left within it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” There was a slight bitterness to his words, almost as if he’d taken a bit of an unripe pear and the taste still lingered on his tongue. “Although I suppose my right hand is…”  

A sad and twisted smile curls onto his lips as he looks down to his still injured hand. It hadn’t healed, and by now he was probably realizing that it probably never would. You recall the other captain’s concern when the news had arrived of Seungcheol’s injury, noting that he’d probably never be able to wield a weapon again.  

“And what are you doing out here?” He questions, the bitterness from his voice gone, “I hadn’t realized you were allowed out of your room.” 

Typically, no one batted an eye nowadays if you were walking around the compound. Yet with the heightened tensions in Seorabeol, you suppose being in your room would put more of the Hwarang at ease. The freedom they’d given you was just as easily revoked. 

“I just wanted some space to think, that's all.” You explain, your hand playing with the fabric of your robes, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s just that when you sneak around with none of us knowing, it makes it seem like you have something to hide,” Seungcheol’s lips curve downwards as he listens to your explanation. 

 “Then I’ll go back to my room,” you sigh and begin to walk past him.  

Seungcheol’s coldness had begun ever since he’d come back injured. Albeit, you hadn’t known him long enough to gauge his character before that, but there had been a lightness to it that certainly isn’t here now. The loss of mobility in his arm pained him in more ways than physical, more ways than you could possibly begin to comprehend. 

“It’s—” You stop and look back at him, “hot outside today. You shouldn’t stay in the sun too long. Please take care of yourself.” A nervous laugh as you finish, finding him returning something of a lighthearted chuckle. For the first time in weeks, his smile didn’t look forced. “ 

“Thank you,” he nods, the smile still lingering in his voice, “take care of yourself too.” 

You don’t find yourself coming across any of the other captains until later that evening, when the sun’s already sunk halfway down the horizon and a golden glow begins to encapsulate the headquarters. As you’re heading towards the main hall you hear a smattering of footsteps behind you, you turn and see Junhui heading towards you.  

“What… what’s that for?” You question, looking down at his hands where he’s holding what looks to be an embroidery needed and a thin candle.  

“One of those Baekje guys we picked up isn’t really a talker,” Junhui explains, gesticulating wildly with his hands as he speaks. “Jihoon’s with him but doesn’t have the… uh, means to speak with him.” As he sees your eyes widening in realization, he drops his hands behind his back, shielding the objects from vision. “I’ll stop talking and spare you from thinking any more about it.” He lets out a laugh before skirting around you and heading off towards another hallway. 

There was even more commotion by the time dinner rolled around. The halls now darkened save for the braziers and candles that lit the entrances and walls. You’re sitting in your room when stomping once again disrupts your thoughts. 

“Soonyoung!” You call out, having seen his green robes race by your doorway. Almost as quickly as he had shot past, he returns. “Why’s everyone running around tonight?” You ask as he stands in your doorway, trying to hold himself together with deep breaths. “Did that prisoner say something?”

His eyes light up, his chest puffing out almost proudly, “Yeah, Jihoon finally got the guy to break! It looks like they’re having a meeting right now, we’re actually getting ready for a raid.”

“Wouldn’t that be something the army typically does?”

 “It really depends on the severity…” Soonyoung notes, “But since most of the troops are still up in Hanseong, the Crown let us do this.” He goes on to explain that the Hwarang would be dividing themselves into two groups. Youngmin would lead a group of a dozen men to Wonweol Inn and Jihoon would lead twenty-three to Jeolin Inn on opposite ends of the city. “Rumor has it that they’ll be at Jeolin, I’m kind of upset they’re sending me to Wonweol.” 

It seems as if Jihoon’s forces were rearing to see action, Youngmin’s more so just to make sure all their leads were covered.  

“There aren’t enough men to spread out equally?” You ask, wondering why there was such disparity between the numbers. 

Soonyoung nods, “A lot of men get sick right when we need them the most.” The closeness of bunks typically made for unsanitary conditions, making the spread of disease easy. “We sent out word to the Guard but it doesn’t seem like they care all too much,” he sighs, leaning back on his heels.

 Someone shouts out to him before you’re able to wish him luck, he gives you a curt wave before racing back down the hallway. Sometime after the able-bodied men had left, Seungcheol calls for you to meet him in the main hall. 

“As a courtesy, I assume, Jihoon has asked me to protect the headquarters in his absence,” he relays to you once you’ve settled yourself into the hall. “It’s empty for the most part but that’s a reason they may attack us.” 

“Does that mean you’ll protect me?” You question and he laughs almost immediately, his gold-plated earrings clatter together as his head shakes slightly.  

“I’m sure I can be of more use than the men who’ve been confined to their beds.” It isn’t as reassuring as you thought it’d be, but it was at least something. His smile was sad at his words, probably feeling more and more unhelpful as the days progressed. 

The silence between the two of you stays stagnant until a door to one of the halls opens quietly.  

“Colonel Choi,” a man says as he enters, you recognize him as the face who’d pulled Jihoon away from you when you were out on patrol several weeks ago, “We’ve confirmed that the loyalists are meeting at Wonweol.” 

Seungcheol sighs, his voice light but his face holding a certain sternness, “I suppose we’ve bet wrong again.” The Hwarang had been certain that Jeolin would be the place of the meeting and finding out that Wonweol was actually the location was certainly a blow to their plans. 

“Chan,” Seungcheol looks at the newcomer, “can you do me a favor?” 

Chan nods curtly, awaiting his instruction. You’d come to learn of him through the others, while not a resident of Shoshin Temple, he is both a member of the city Watch and an officer of the Hwarang. He’d been made aware of your situation at some point, so you didn’t need to feel as guarded around him as other members of the Hwarang.  

“First, tell Jihoon that the meeting is at Wonweol, he should still be on his way to Jeolin.” Seungcheol begins and then looks to you, “And I’m sorry to put this on you, but I need you to take her with you.” 

Chan’s eyes widen almost as big as yours as you ask, “Why me? Wouldn’t I only slow him down?” 

“Save for Chan here, you’re the most able-bodied person residing in the headquarters,” Seungcheol says, grimacing at his words as the fingers on his right hand twitch, “even if you’re a burden you may just as well save someone’s life.” 

You bite your lip, seeing that Chan was probably thinking the same thoughts that you were. Yet neither of you were able to oppose the colonel.  

“There’s a chance that the loyalists have called for backup,” Seungcheol looks to Chan, “If your message were to be intercepted then you’d never reach Jihoon in time. Do you see what I’m trying to say?” 

Chan nods slowly, piecing together the elder’s thoughts, “If we run into enemy forces, I could hold them off while she delivers the message…”   

“You want me to do what?!” You can’t help but exclaim. It sounded as if the two of you were caught out, Chan would sacrifice himself so that you could escape.  

“Don’t worry too much,” Seungcheol tries to reassure you, “I doubt it will come to that. We’re short of men right now which means I have to ask you to step in. You’ll need to notify the Guard and the Watch as well.” 

“There’s really no one else who can do this?” You ask hesitantly, daunted by what Seungcheol was asking you to do. “What about Jeon?” 

Jeon Wonwoo is another spy in allegiance with the Hwarang, yet he mostly dealt with Yamato forces.

 Seungcheol shakes his head, revealing that Jeon was already with Jihoon’s team heading towards Jeolin. 

As if seeing the nervousness on your face, Chan steps forward and offers you something of a nervous, sheepish smile. “I heard you know a little bit about protecting yourself,” his eyes glance towards the blade tucked away at your waist, “I unfortunately can’t guarantee your safety, but, if you can manage, you’re welcome to join me.” 

Despite the gentle tone he was using, you know he’d kill you the instant you tried to run. This mission took priority over anything and anyone else in his way. 

“I’ll go,” you nod, taking in a deep breath. “I can take care of myself, there’s no need to worry about me.” 

You can see Seungcheol giving you a small smile as Chan steps back. More than anything, you know that Seungcheol wants to join and fight alongside his men, but it is impossible. The least you can do is carry out the mission in his stead.  

“Then we accept your request, Colonel.” Chan nods and begins to head towards the exit with you following closely behind him. He turns to you as you close the door, “Run with all you can.” 

You take off after him, the slow and itching burn rising from your legs the longer you pursue him. It’s as if the streets were plunged into darkness with how little you could see as you raced by, the sound of dirt under foot sliding with every footfall. You’re beginning to see that half a year indoors with little to no vigorous exercise has done something of a toll to your physique, you aren’t as in shape as you’d once been. 

Had you not been paying attention, you may have slammed into Chan, who stopped abruptly after reaching the edge of the street. 

“No matter what you see or hear, follow this street and don’t look back,” he whispers and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

 “Has someone been following us?” 

His head shakes, “You don’t need to know that.” 

Your breaths heavy, knowing full well that he’d make it faster to Jihoon than you, “Chan you should go, I’ll stay behind.” 

He frowns at you, “What could you do by staying behind?” 

“If I distract them then you could slip away,” you push, resisting the urge to take a peek at whatever was coming after the two of you. 

“If we need bait, then it’s going to be me,” his hand reaches for his sword as he looks past you, “Now, run!” 

It takes no time for him to rush behind you and for your legs to kick off from the ground and begin to barrel down the street in front of you. You hear a clatter of blades behind you, thinking that Chan’s already locked in combat before he calls out, “Keep running until you see white!”

 Knees weakened with the adrenaline of it all, you run down the street. You’re sure that the only way you’d be able to stop preemptively was to tear tendon from bone. Even in your haste you felt sluggish, as if everything around you were frozen in time. You run for another two minutes before spotting two silhouettes wearing white robes in the distance, as you near you can see the Commander with Kim Mingyu. 

“What are you doing here?!” Jihoon says angrily, a tinge of surprise coating his words. You could almost cry in relief at seeing the two of them. 

It’s then you notice that they’re not wearing the typical blue robes of the Hwarang, they’ve instead traded the vibrant hue for a pale white. Maybe it’s for better visibility, but you’re not too certain.  

With shaking limbs, you try to step forward, your knees giving way and you begin to fall towards the ground. Mingyu reaches out to hold you up before you collapse entirely.   

“Are you alright?” He asks as he helps you back to your feet. “You know if Jihoon finds out you left the compound without permission he’ll kill you, right?” 

Rather than explain yourself, you focus on regulating your breath. At this moment you were far too winded to express why you’d left. After one, two breaths you take a third long inhale and turn to the commander.  

“They’re meeting at Wonweol,” huffing out in short puffs of air, you try to straighten yourself to the best of your ability. Jihoon’s eyes widen at your words and he turns to Mingyu. 

“I knew they’d be there!” An almost hiss escapes through his clenched teeth as Mingyu stares back at him. 

Hansol, who you hadn’t seen standing off to the side with another group of men, steps forward. “Are you sure?” He questions you, a grave seriousness intertwined with his words.  

“Seungcheol lost his arm, not his brain,” Jihoon says, looking over to Hansol, “if she’s out here looking for us and not hightailing it back to her hometown, then it’s safe to surmise he sent her.” 

“It’s impressive that you found us,” Mingyu mutters, “Seorabeol is a big city, after all.” 

“It was Chan,” you answer, the burning in your lungs slowly residing. “He told me to find you so he could fight against some of the loyalists.” 

“What about the Guard or the Watch, are they on their way?” Jihoon asks, his hand resting atop the hilt of his sword. When you shake your head, you can almost see him trying to piece together their next move.  

“Choi, Kim, take the men to Wonweol,” He instructs, a commandeering veneer to his words. “There’s something I need to do.” 

The two captains nod and turn back to their men to relay the news and inform them of what their new plans were. Before they begin to move, Hansol looks back to you, “The city’s more dangerous tonight than it’s been on any of our rounds. Either stick with Kim and I or go with Lee.” 

It was a relatively easy choice to make, right? You’d stick with Jihoon as the other two seemed to be off to battle. The prospect of being alone with the stoic commander was somewhat intimidating, but it would put you away from the bloodshed. 

The two of you watch the rest of the group form together and head off into the dimly lit streets towards Wonweol Inn. Jihoon doesn’t say anything until the ringing out of the warrior’s footsteps dissipates into the humid nighttime.  

“Good work in delivering that message,” there’s appreciation in his voice as he looks to you, something resembling a small smile pulling at his lips, “That information may have just given us the advantage we need.” An approving comment from the Hwarang’s demon commander was something that you’d never thought you’d hear; it makes your heart pound gleefully for a moment out of sheer shock of the scenario.  

Jihoon and you step from the narrow street and move to one of Seorabeol’s main roads, a deserted place at this time of night. 

“Jihoon?” You ask, feet treading on the grit of the dirt walkways, “Why are we out here?” 

“The Hwarang don’t hide in the shadows like these Baekje loyalists,” He says matter-of-factly and looks down the street as if he’s searching for something, or someone. 

 It doesn’t take long for a figure to appear running towards the two of you. For a moment you think it’s an enemy and begin to reach for the blade at your hip before recognizing a familiar silhouette.  

“You’re alive!” You gasp out, dropping your hand away from your side as the other approaches.  

Chan doesn’t respond to you verbally, only nods his head with a small smile before straightening up and looking at Jihoon. “I assume you’ve been told what's happening at Wonweol? The colonel told me to notify the Guard and the Watch but...” 

“I’ll have more orders for you in a bit,” Jihoon nods in understanding, “Just stay nearby for now.” He then turns to you as Chan slips wordlessly into a nearby alley. “I’ve got to have a word with a few useless assholes.” There was a spark of anger in his voice, a fire dimly beginning to glow brighter in his eyes. The commander then looks past you; you turn and see an oncoming group of Silla soldiers making their way down the street. Jihoon mutters something you can’t make out under his breath as they near. 

You now realize why he’d brought you out into the main road, neither of you would have seen the oncoming troops had you been tucked away in a side street.  

The pace of the oncoming soldiers was lazy, almost unconcerned in a way that miffed you. Shouldn’t they be worried about stopping a near rebellion from a fallen kingdom?  

“The Hwarang are still fighting at Wonweol… aren’t they?” You ask into the nighttime, a strange fear gripping you as the dwindled numbers of the Hwarang were putting their lives at stake to quell this disturbance. Didn’t these men before you have some, if not more, responsibility to quash it?   

Perhaps the anger and disbelief in your voice was more present than you thought, as Jihoon lets out a small chortle of laughter, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure they stay in line.” He steps out further into the street, directly in front of the group that was now only several meters in front of him. 

All he did was move away from you and face them, but he now holds an aura of authority that hadn’t been there moments prior.  

“The Hwarang are currently conducting an official investigation of Wonweol Inn,” he calls out as they stop before him, his voice echoing around the surrounding buildings. “You will not interfere or enter the Inn.”  

Even you could see the grumblings of protest beginning to stir in the movements of the soldiers when Chan appears from the shadows once more and begins to speak quietly to you, “If Jihoon lets those men walk into Wonweol, they’ll get the credit for subduing the revivalists.”  

“How could they…?” You ask, looking towards Chan. “It’s the Hwarang who are risking their lives for this mess.” 

“It’s more political than just the Hwarang or the soldier taking credit,” Chan sighs as Jihoon continues to shout orders to the soldiers. “Jihoon’s adoptive father’s high ranking in the court’s aristocracy, so are a few of the other captain’s fathers. The Hwarang, in a way, represent them and the soldiers here represent the more military-inclined families. In the end it’s not the question of whether it was the Hwarang or the guard who subdued the loyalists, but which families were behind the winning team, in the Crown’s eyes.” 

“That’s…” Convoluted. Confusing. Complex. Insane. Elaborate. “A lot.” 

Chan must’ve been able to see the confusion in your gaze as he laughs to himself, “That’s only scratching the surface. But it shows the utter disrespect each side has from one another and I expect it won’t be resolved any time soon.” Both of your gazes travel back to the commander at the front of the guard, “Jihoon’s single handedly protecting the Hwarang right now. If we allow them to get to the Inn, they’ll lionize themselves.” 

You can see that Chan thinks highly of Commander Lee in the way he admirably talks of his staunch resolution in doing what’s best for the Hwarang.   

It seems as if Jihoon’s startling tactic was beginning to wane as a few soldiers began to protest his declaration. 

“If you really think you can fit nearly, what, one hundred men?” Jihoon’s eyes scan the lines of soldiers for a moment, “If you think you can fit all of them into Wonweol, you’re insane. The best you can do with these numbers is surround it and make sure no one escapes.” He’s trying to dissuade them; you wonder if they can see it as clearly as you. “Unless you really want to lead your men to the slaughterhouse. There’s already a fight happening, and if you value your lives, I’d suggest you stay put.”

The head official leading the troops relents, stepping away from Jihoon as he finds no room for argument against the commander of the Hwarang. Jihoon stays in front of the troops until a member of the Hwarang finds you all standing there, claiming that the battle has ended. 

Jihoon, Chan and you had returned to the compound as the first wave of Hwarang were returning from the skirmish. The fight had only lasted a matter of two hours, but to you it had felt like much longer. There had been nearly two dozen revivalists congregating at the inn, the Hwarang had ended up killing seven of their members and injuring four more of them.

Chan tells you later in the night that, with the aid of the Guard and Watch, sixteen more people in the city were arrested in relation to the Wonweol incident. The owner of the inn had also been arrested as he was aiding in the escape of several of the loyalists.  

The Hwarang had prevailed, despite having the weaker numbers, in an incredible victory. Yet, with that victory also came some losses. Seungkwan had taken a blow to the chest and fell unconscious shortly after, Soonyoung had been cut across his forehead and the bleeding hadn’t relented, Junhui had injured his hand in a brawl, one Hwarang had lost his life and two others were severely injured. It didn’t seem as if the last two would make it the week due to the severity of their injuries. 

With the quelling of the revivalist by Hwarang hands, it seems as if the group were now in a more favorable light with the Crown. As well as with the court members who vied for the organization’s success. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 8𝔱𝔥, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Thanks for patching me up,” Junhui smiles at you as you finish tying together the bandage wrapped around his hand. “You’re pretty skilled at this.”

“It’s no problem,” you smile at him, rolling the remaining gauze together. “You should really take it easy, though– So your wound doesn’t reopen.”

“Ah,” Junhui frowns, “As soon as you’re done here, I’m supposed to go looking for the revivalists that escaped.”

“I see…” You understand that it was of the utmost importance that the Hwarang find them, but as the daughter of a physician you can’t help but worry about your patients. 

“Have you heard anything about Soonyoung and Seungkwan? Have they woken up yet?” He asks as he rises to his feet.

“They’re awake,” you nod, packing away the gauze into a bag used for medical supplies. “Their wounds aren’t that bad, but being kicked in the stomach and slashed on the forehead are still pretty serious. There may be repercussions that we can’t see, like internal bleeding.”

“To think it was enough to make Seungkwan cough blood,” he sighs as you stand, a stern expression hardening his features. 

Suddenly, the door to the room slides open and Mingyu bursts in, his eyes looking frantically around at the other aides before settling on you, “Are you free? There’s a warrior who’s in pretty bad shape.”

“Of course!” You nod and quickly follow after him. Many Hwarang were injured after the incident at Wonweol and you made a promise to treat and nurse them the best you can. 

Before you realize it, dusk sweeps over the compound. Your eyes are heavy with the sleep you forwent the night prior. For the first time in hours, there was no one for you to treat, but that still doesn’t mean there isn’t work to do. Once you leave one of the injured Hwarang’s rooms, you go to find the others and get direction about what or who to focus on next. Yet, as you close the door behind you, you hear footsteps approaching. 

“There you are!” Jihoon says, “There’s a captain’s meeting in the main hall in a few minutes. I’m sorry to bother you when you’ve just cleaned up, but can you make tea for us all?”

“Of course,” you say quickly, stifling a yawn. “I’ll bring some right away.”

A handful of minutes later you find yourself with a tray in hand, a steaming pot of tea and several cups adorning the surface as you make your way into the main hall. Upon entering, you see the captains reunited. 

“Here you all go,” you say quietly so as to not disturb them and set about handing everyone a cup and pouring them a serving. 

“Thank you,” Youngmin smiles gratefully as he picks up his cup. 

Apparently, you’ve come in just as the captains are about to give their reports of their rounds earlier today. 

“There was no sign of revivalist activity during my rounds with my division earlier,” Hansol reports. 

“I’m sure word has already spread about the incident last night,” Jihoon muses, “I thought they’d be out for blood but I guess I’m wrong.”

“We can’t let our guard down,” Seungcheol reminds him, “They may be waiting until it’s dark again to make a move.”

“A valid point,” Youngmin agrees.

“You just got back from a meeting with the Guard, right?” Mingyu asks him, “What’d they say?”

“Ah…” Youngmin sighs, “They want their own warriors to accompany us on our rounds to catch the remnants of the loyalists.”

“No way,” Junhui nearly spits in anger, “They just want the fame for when we catch them!”

“Precisely.” Seungcheol nods, “If Commander Lee hadn’t stopped them from entering the Inn last night, the Crown would be praising them.”

“Whatever the reason, I cannot refuse an order coming from the Guard with the Crown backing them.” Youngmin looks to Jihoon, “So, I’d like to charge one of you with the rounds in cooperation with their warriors.”

“Not me,” Junhui says almost immediately, “I don’t know them, nor do I want to be responsible for their lives if things do come to a head.”

“Me either,” Mingyu adds, “My tongue may slip and I might say something unsavory to those opportunistic bastards.”

“That’s not… very helpful…” Youngmin sighs, “Hansol…?”

Suh Kangjoon interrupts before Hansol can even open his mouth, “Wait, Chief. Please entrust the Guard warriors to my division. I fully understand how important this mission is to undertake.” He snidely glares at Mingyu and Junhui before continuing, “The other captains don’t seem to have a grasp on the situation, probably because they lack the education and politicking.”

“I dare you to repeat that–!” Mingyu says angrily, nearly rising to his feet.

“If you’re looking for a fight, come with us and get your ass kicked,” Junhui frowns. 

“Calm down,” Kangjoon says almost in a way to belittle them. “I’ll give you a simple rundown. Of course the Guard wants to make sure we don’t get full credit. But they also want to make sure we’re not trying to take their place. So it is vital to us that what they see and hear about the Hwarng presents us in a good light.”

Slowly nodding in agreement, Youngmin looks to the Commander and Colonel, “Jihoon, Seungcheol, you’re on board?”

“Suh is so admirably dedicated to the Hwarang,” Seungcheol says.

“Fine.” Jihoon waves, “Suh, you’re in charge of the Guard. But I don’t want any fuss.”

“I won’t cause any,” Kangjoon says with a sly smile. 

“If you encounter any loyalists, make sure not to let them slip through your fingers.” Seungcheol warns, “If a mistake is made in front of the Guard, all the work we put into the success of Wonweol will be for nothing.”

“I give my word as a Suh,” Kangjoon says, although he seems already eager to leave. “The interests of the Hwarang always come first.

July 12th - Shoshin Temple, Kingdom of Silla

A few more days passed without any incident, but a rumor has begun to spread that the Guard are going to do something to retaliate for the praise they could have gotten from Wonweol. Everyone at the compound is walking on eggshells. 

Even with everyone on edge, there are still things for you to be doing. So, you find yourself sweeping off the entranceway of the temple as the sun just begins to sink into the sky. Most of the warriors that pass nervously glance left and right every time they move. There haven’t been any incidents or injuries on the rounds, and yet the question remains in the air every time someone heads out: Will they come back safely?

“What are you doing outside?!” Mingyu’s voice makes you nearly jump out of your skin. 

“Captain Kim–!” You breathe deeply to calm yourself, “Did something happen? You look on edge.”

“Of course I am when I see you like that. It’s dangerous!” He motions you to return inside, “Cleaning can wait.”

“Then something happened?” You take a step forward, you knuckles tightening around the grip of the broom. 

“Ah,” he shakes his head, “I’m actually not sure myself, but the Watch might retaliate.”

“The Watch?” Your eyebrows raise as you follow him inside.

“I’ll explain but let’s get moving first.”

You follow him to the main room where Jihoon, Youngmin, and Seungcheol sit with sour faces. Kangjoon stands before them, pale as a ghost. Has something happened on the rounds?

“Dammit, Suh!” Jihoon shouts angrily enough that it looks as if the earring on his right ear may come flying off. “Fuck! I warned you, I insisted like a hammer to a nail but congratulations! You did a hell of a job.” Furious sarcasm drips from his words as Seungcheol disrupts his tirade with a cough to change the tone.

“Explain yourself, Captain Suh.” Seungcheol says with calm fury. “What are your thoughts on this situation?”

“It’s a huge misunderstanding! Please, let me explain myself.” Kangjoon then begins to list a reason of explanations. He and his division had met a suspicious swordsman on their rounds, in an attempt to stop him, Kangjoon had used his swords and injured him, but in the end they discovered that the swordsman was a man of the Watch. “To be fair, if the man had been honest from the start and revealed himself, none of this would have happened.”

“It’s true that trying to stop a swordsman from fleeing can’t be considered a fault…” Seungcheol sighs, “But resorting to using your sword… And all that in front of the Guard representative, who you’ve been entrusted with.” 

“What a mess,” Jihoon frowns, “And the Guard can’t go and pretend they didn’t see anything. And of course, the Watch is going to ask for reparation since it’s their guy who got injured… Damn it. Why is this shit always happening to us?”

“May I have a word?” Lee Chan steps forward and whispers something into Jihoon’s ear.

“He what?!” Jihoon’s eyes go wide.

“I got the information from a source within the Watch. He died earlier today.” Chan says and steps back a few feet.

“That’s awful,” Jihoon says with a ‘tch’, “We’d better keep our heads low for a while and see if we’ve got the situation under control.” He rises from sitting with a sigh, “Gukseon Kwak and I will head to both the Guard and the Watch to apologize.”

“It would be wise for us to go to them rather than wait for their direction,” Seungcheol nods in agreement. 

“Suh, you’re coming too.” Jihoon glances at the captain, “We’ll leave as soon as we’re ready.”

“Ah… You… You want me to come…?” Kangjoon looks stunned. “But what if they consider me guilty as well…? Being ordered to–”

Jihoon lets out a bark of a laugh before turning fully to Kangjoon, shouting at him, “You’re taking responsibility for your actions! Now get the fuck out and get ready!”

Even though you’re only listening to what’s happening and have no part in it, you can see and feel how stressful and hectic the situation is. Why had the Watch soldier killed himself? Perhaps they had their own code of laws like the Hwarang did the O Gye. But it seems a bit exaggerated to have done that over something like this.

You follow the men out to the front of the compounds with the other captains to see them off.

“Well then, let’s get going.” Youngmin says and looks to Seungcheol, “Colonel Choi, the headquarters are now in your hands.”

“...Chief, Colonel, Commander!” Kangjoon says as he stands before them once more, “I never meant to cause trouble for the Hwarang. Please believe me!”

“It’s not us who are going to judge you,” Jihoon says shortly, “Let’s go.” He immediately starts walking, not wanting to hear any more protests from Kangjoon. But before he gets very far, a figure runs out from the shadows.

“You’re still here? Thank goodness I found you in time.” They say, racing over to Jihoon.

“What’s happening, Jeon?” Jihoon questions as Wonwoo comes into view. 

“You see… the Guard who accompanied Suh on his rounds has also committed honorable suicide.”

“Another one?!” Jihoon staggers.

“The Guard want our commanders to join them as soon as possible.”

“I guess that’ll calm down the Watch,” Jihoon sighs, “Now I hope this is going to be the end of it.”

“So I– We don’t need to go to the Watch anymore?” Kangjoon asks.

“You idiot,” Jihoon growls at him, “You’re the cause of this mess! Of course you’re coming. And you’re going to apologize to the Guard and the Watch! Now!”

“I… Of course…”

“I guess this is good to know before we go,” Youngmin smiles weakly, “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, but… No choice, we have to go.”

With that, Youngmin and Jihoon leave for the Guard, Kangjoon following them reluctantly.

By the time you settle in your rooms, readying yourself for bed, the men haven’t returned from their meetings. Being too worried to find sleep before they arrive back, you impatient wait for them before you resign yourself to sleep.

Had their negotiations gone well? If they hadn’t, then all of the work the Hwarang poured into the Wonweol incident would vanish in an instant.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear footsteps in the corridor outside of your room. Quickly standing, you make your way to your door and slide it open.

“Huh?” You hear Jihoon sound out and turn towards the sound of your door opening, “Why are you still awake? You could have gone to sleep. You haven’t slept much the last few days.”

“Have you eaten yet?” You question as you step out into the corridor, “Do you want me to prepare something real quick?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’m fine. Sorry for worrying you.”

“You look… Drained.” You say softly, noting his pallid looking complexion, “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah, well I’m facing so many problems I’m beginning to think attracting them is a special talent of mine.” With the way he says that, you wonder what happened during the discussion with the Guard. Judging by his face, the worst case scenario must have been avoided, but something is still lingering with him,

“... If you can’t sleep, join me for a bit.”

“Huh?” You feel your cheeks begin to warm, “Our relationship isn’t that kind of… I mean…”

“I’m feeling overwhelmed, too. I can’t go back to my room because I’m sure I’ll be too frustrated to sleep.” He begins to walk, “Come with me, it’s fine. If we talk here, we’re going to wake everyone up.”

In the tranquility of the night, you can only hear crickets as he leads you to one of the empty courtyards. In your sleep-deprived mind, this feels as if time has suspended itself. 

“... We’re here then, let’s talk.” Jihoon stops abruptly and you need to stop yourself before you run into him as he turns around to face you. “What do you want to know?”

“You’re sure it’s okay for me to ask?” You pose, “And for you to tell me about it?”

“The more you know, the better you’ll sleep,” Jihoon says simply. “In short, everything that Wonwoo said before we left was true.”

“So the warrior going on rounds with Captain Suh did kill himself…?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “that.”

“I have to admit that I don’t get the big picture of today’s events…” You admit, breaking away from his gaze momentarily, “I don’t understand it well.” As far as you’d heard, none of the men had been guilty of anything. 

“In situations like these, we don’t always choose to do the right thing,” he sighs, crossing his arms as you look at him. “The honor of a warrior is more important than his life. The Watch guy chose it to save face. For the Guard one, it’s different. He was ordered to do so by his commander to stop any escalation with the Watch.”

Even as he explains it calmly, a chill still runs down your spine. Regardless of you own turmoil, he continues to speak with the same coldness. “With the Wonweol incident, I managed for the Hwarang to make a name for itself… If we want to have the Crown’s support, their entire support, having good relationships with the Guard is first above all.”

You stand there at a loss for words. This time, the Hwarang were not ordered to fall upon their swords but there is no guarantee that something similar won’t happen in the future. The next victim in this endless power struggle could very well be a member of the Hwarang.

“Our job is to keep order and kill those who stand in the way of it. Do the dirty work if needs be.” Jihoon locks eyes with you, “...That said, do you want to leave?” He sighs, “Well, it’s not like we can let you go, anyway.”

“You know, I… I really want to be useful to you all.” With his shocked expression you wonder if your answer was that unexpected. 

“Are you serious?” His brow furrows, “At this point we’re just murderers, it seems.”

“There may be some truth to that…” You murmur, “But without you Seorabeol could have been reduced to ashes by now. I’m from a small village and I don’t fully grasp what it means to be a noble or to embrace a warrior’s code… Still, I hope I can help you, even if only with my limited medical knowledge.”

Jihoon watches your face, not interrupting you. It’s almost as if he’s looking into your heart, seeking the depth of your resolution. 

“You look weak but your heart is strong, isn’t it?” He gives you a small smile. “I thought we scared you and made you want to run with what happened at Wonweol.” You find that he looks gentle when he smiles. The longer you look at him, you feel the stiffness that has been there since the night at Wonweol slowly lift away. 

“By the way, I forgot to thank you. You really proved to be an asset at Wonweol. You haven’t complained once since then and have been actively working for everyone’s sake behind the scenes…” He pauses for a moment, “I’m in your debt for everything you do for us. If you stay here, we’ll protect you. You’ve got my word.” 

You can’t help but return a smile of your own, “...Thank you very much.”

To follow their warrior’s path– you can’t really help with that or like what vicious means they have to expend to dispense the king’s justice. But you don’t feel wrong in wanting to support Jihoon and the rest of the warriors. This thought is as strong as ever as you look at the commander’s face, illuminated in the moonlight. 

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 20𝔱𝔥, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 As you walk down the corridors of the Hwarang’s compound, you carefully hold a book that Jeon Wonwoo had given you several minutes earlier. Coming to work with him, you find that he is more versed in Silla medicine than the Tang that your father had slightly taught you as you grew older. In a small promise, you tell him things you can remember from the trade and he has lent you the very book you hold of his own notes. And seeing that he is far superbly more versed in actually treating people, you find yourself in charge of bandage changing and wound cleaning. You’re happy to be in service to the soldiers, but they don’t make it any easier. 

“Are you sure you want to go?” You hear a voice chime out from a room just ahead of you, “She’ll be here any minute.”

“It’s fine! My forehead is as good as new by now!” With almost certainty, you can tell that it’s Kwon Soonyoung speaking. 

“Well said, Soonyoungie! The reward for Wonweol should come pretty soon!” You hear Junhui laugh, “Let’s spend a little too much of that money, shall we?”

With widened eyes as you’ve become privy to their plans, you race into the main room where you heard them speak.

“Captain Kwon! Where do you think you’re going?” You call out and Soonyoung turns quickly on his heels to face you.

“Ah–! I thought I told you to call me–” He notices the angered expression on your face, “Oh man– It’s not me! I swear! It’s Jun who wants to go out!”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Junhui raises his hands in defense, “Are you trying to let me carry this alone?!”

“That’s enough!” You say sternly, “I’ve told you many times that alcohol isn’t good for fresh wounds and that you shouldn’t drink until the wound heals!”

“Harp on him some more,” Mingyu nods towards Soonyoung, “Even though he’s not allowed to practice with his sword he sneaks out everyday to show off the scar on his forehead.” 

“Argh, Gyu! Stop talking!”

“I’ve repeated on and on how you shouldn’t remove the bandage!” You vent, you could almost feel the steam leaving your ears.

“Don’t bother,” Mingyu sighs and nods towards Junhui, “He’s not much better than a child when it comes to listening.”

“But you’re the ones who are tempting him with alcohol even though you know he shouldn’t drink any, right?” You frown. 

“Huh? No way… We wouldn’t do that, right, Mingyu?” Junhui hums.

“S– Sure! Going out for a drink doesn’t necessarily mean alcohol… It can be water.” Mingyu says, trying to cover his ass. 

“Gyu!” Junhui whispers loudly, “What do you have to say it like that?! It sounds suspicious as hell!” 

“What can I say?” Mingyu shrugs, “I hate lying.”

“Enough!” You interrupt them, “If you don’t respect the rules then Soonyoung’s wound isn’t going to heal!”

“Hey!” Soonyoung says quickly, “I’m not the one fooling around with my injury!”

“True! Seungkwan participates in sword fighting lessons every day!” Junhui nods in agreement.

“Captain Boo does…?!” You take a moment to calm your breathing, “OK… So as soon as I’m done cleaning Soonyoung’s wound, I’ll pay a visit to him.”

“That paste medicine?” Soonyoung winces, “I hate that stuff.”

“Maybe,” you begin to reach for the medicine bag on your back. “But it works wonders so come here.”

After you’re done treating his wound, you go to look for Seungkwan loitering around the compound, but for some reason you can’t seem to find him. It’s not like he’s on patrol– the commander had deemed him too injured for that right now. As you round one of the compound’s hallways you do find yourself almost smacking into him.

“Oh, hey,” Seungkwan greets you as you reel backwards in surprise. “What are you up to, cleaning?”

“That’s the least of my concerns!” You say, noticing that he wasn’t wearing his normal lounging clothes, “You know I was supposed to come and check on your injury, where were you?”

“Ah,” he sighs sheepishly, “The kids from the merchant district wanted to play so I went out with them.”

“You went out–? I told you to rest and not move until your injury was healed.”

“You’re exaggerating,” he waves his hand to dismiss your statement, “It’s not like my wound is going to get worse just because I played jegichagi.”

“You don’t know that! You could be bleeding from inside your stomach, or your organs might be damaged!” You don’t relent, pressing him further. “I also heard you’ve been going to sword practice every day.”

“Right,” he nods simply, “If I don’t practice, then I’m going to get weak.”

“But if you don’t recover, you may never be able to practice again,” You counter.

“Okay, okay,” Seungkwan sighs, “Then hurry up and take care of me.”

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 23𝔯𝔡, 661 - 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 You find yourself in a similar predicament a few days later when you fail to find either Soonyoung or Seungkwan roaming about the compounds. Yet, you’re a bit thankful as you’re running low on medical supplies and you need permission from Jihoon to go and purchase more. 

“Medicine shopping?” The commander questions you once you’d found him in his quarters.

A nod, “For Captain Boo and Soonyoung. I was going to ask another captain but it seems as if they’re all on patrol…”

“Then do you want me to tag along?” He asks and you look at him, a bit surprised.

“You, Commander…?”

“Normally I’d ask Chan to do this, but he’s currently investigating something for me,” Jihoon explains, “We’ve got a lot of injured men, no one’s really free to go.”

“But surely you must be very busy too…” You murmur, feeling bad if you have to pull him away from work. There are piles of papers on his desk, which you suppose have been sent from the Crown, the Guard, and the Watch. “I was writing a report about the incident at Wonweol, but it’s fine. I should take a break anyway.”

You give him a small smile, “Well, thank you for coming with me.”

The two of you traverse the streets of Seorabeol together. While you hop from merchant to merchant, you try to keep an eye out for anyone that looks like your father but come up empty-handed.

Jihoon sighs as you pay a merchant for some powdered poria, “We still can’t find him…” Even after asking a few of the merchants, they hadn’t come across anyone like your father. Seeing your glum expression he notes, “We will find him eventually. Don’t give up hope.”

“Alright,” you nod as the two of you walk away from the storefront. 

Jihoon always appears very strict but when he speaks like this you see a glimpse of his gentler self.

“After the Wonweol incident, it seems like the loyalists have toned it down a bit,” he nods, “The rounds are going to be less dangerous for a while. So you can join the captains again and search for Heo, if you’d like.”

The grip you have on the parcel of medicine tightens, until now you’d stayed behind on the patrols in fear of something happening. With Jihoon’s words, you grow a bit more at ease with the thought of leaving. 

“I think we’ve known you for long enough now to trust that you wont run,” he nods with a smile after noting your reaction, “I don’t want to brag but I’m fairly good at reading people… Anyway, where should we go next? Did you get all of the medicine you needed?”

“Oh, right!” You bring out the list of herbs from your robes, “I actually need some ginseng root…”

After you have finished purchasing everything you require, the two of you head back to the headquarters.

“Bandages here… And this one is for wounds…” You mutter to yourself as you rummage through the medicine supply room, storing everything purchased today. 

“What’s that?” Jihoon asks as he peers over your shoulder.

“A decoction for curing summer sickness, I think it has gokaju in it…” You note, popping the lid from the pitcher and wincing at the alcoholic scent.

“Don’t keep it in plain sight, the warriors will smell it and take it,” Jihoon sighs, knowing how the rowdier men are. “Hide it somewhere.”

“Ah, right.” You nod, beginning to look for an ideal hiding spot. Looking around the space, you see shattered remnants of storage containers littered in the corners of the closet, “Maybe I should clean up first. If it’s dirty I don’t know how well things will keep in here.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Jihoon notes, “And it’s a lot of furniture to move in here…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be–”

“Ask the free warriors to help you, you shouldn’t overdo it.” He interrupts. 

As nice of a thought as it is, you know everyone is probably very busy at the moment. “No,” shake your head, “I’ll be alright on my own. Everyone else has more important things to do.”

“You’re sure you’re okay with it?” He asks with a raised brow.

“Yes,” you nod enthusiastically, “I’ll be done in no time!”

“Fine,” he says a bit reluctantly, “I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you need anything.” After you assure him you’ll be alright he spins on his heels, returning to his quarters.

It takes you what feels like years, but you eventually get the closet into a somewhat presentable condition. Things had been missorted into the yakjang and it had taken you nearly an hour to sort through the drawers. 

The door behind you swings open and you hear Jihoon ask, “How’s it going?”

“I’m finished with the chest here and the corners… but there’s something strange…” As soon as the words leave you, you hear the pittering sound of an animal’s footsteps in the ceiling.

“Are you kidding me– Mice?” Jihoon’s eyes widen as he looks upwards.

“Probably,” you sigh, “I’ll take a look.” 

“Be careful–” he says as you reach for the ladder that accompanies the shelf, it should get you high enough where you can look at the beams that support the roof. You climb up it, raising one of the boards of the ceiling once you reach the top.

As soon as you open it, you’re startled by a mouse darting out and you begin to fall off of the ladder, “Ah–!”

“Watch out!” Jihoon shouts as you begin to fall towards the floor. Surprisingly, though, you don’t hit the ground. There’s a jerk and you open your eyes to see that Jihoon had caught you mid fall, his hands holding your hips as he steadies you on the ladder.

As soon as the fear subsides, your blood rushes and your heart begins to pound hard against your chest. 

“Are you okay?” He asks softly. 

You find yourself still dazed, never have had a man touch you like this even if it was for your safety. “I’m so sorry!” You say quickly as your face warms. 

“Are you able to grab back onto the ladder? Or should I guide you to the floor?” 

“Ah,” you say, trying to move but realize the hem of your sleeve caught between two of the rough wooden boards  of the ceiling, “My sleeve…” You try several times without success to free yourself.

“Hey, stop wiggling so much!” Jihoon says and his grip tightens to hold you in place.

“R–Right…” You meekly say and try once more to free your sleeve. Eventually, it pulls out and you manage to get yourself back onto the floor. “I– I’m really sorry about that.” 

“There’s nothing you have to apologize for,” Jihoon says quickly, “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“I know,” you murmur, “But it’s because I was careless.”

His arms cross, “Just be careful next time and you’ll be fine. It’s a good thing I just happened to walk by. You could’ve injured yourself if you were alone.”

“I’ll be careful,” the heat in your face isn’t residing, moreso out of embarrassment now. 

The air hangs awkwardly between the two of you now. It takes a moment for him to speak again, “So… Are you done cleaning?”

“I am,” you say far too quickly. “I just need to put away the ladder and I’ll be done.” 

“I’ve got it,” he says, reaching out for the ladder and moving it back to its corner. You note that Jihoon’s behavior is a bit off, not like his controlled, usual self. Perhaps he’s concerned about what happened earlier. “All done,” he says.

“Thank you for your help.”

“I should be thanking you,” he smiles, “You cleaned up this hellhole of a closet… Thanks. Now take the rest of the day off.”

“I will,” you return the smile gratefully, “Don’t worry about me.”

“Hm,” his expression drops and you furrow your brow. “I wish the injured warriors could take after you and rest when asked to.”

“It would make things much easier, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, “But most of them aren’t the obedient type anyway… Well, if everything’s fine here, I’m heading back to my room.”

“Please do,” you say, noting how tired he looks. It must be taxing to keep a hold on the men who can be so carefree and hot headed at times. Perhaps you’ll stop by his room later with some tea.

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 2𝔫𝔡, 661 - 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Ever since the raids on both Wonweol and Jeolin Inn, the Hwarang had become stricter on their rounds around Seorabeol, looking for and capturing any of the Baekje revivalists that had escaped that night. Rumors had begun to plague the streets that the loyalists were looking for revenge on those who tried to stop their rebellion. On top of that, the Hwarang were under harsh scrutiny of their opposers in the Crown’s court. Despite them having stopped a meeting that was calling for the kidnapping of Silla’s monarch, a fact you had come to learn of after the raids. 

Yet as the days creeped more lethargically into the summer, it seems as if the tensions that had arisen earlier in the season were dying down. Life was somewhat steady again. And due to your efforts during the battle, the Hwarang were growing more receptive and encouraging of your involvement with them. A small victory, for sure, but you were now allowed to complete chores in solitude now rather than being watched over by one of the captains. That’s where you find yourself now, sweeping away the dust that had accumulated in the overnight winds in front of the complex.  

You’re humming to yourself, brushing the boom atop the agate stone of the entrance when you hear gentle footsteps walking up the stairs to the main gate.  

“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls out to you, “Is this the Hwarang headquarters?”  

You look up from your work, your lips parting in mild surprise at seeing a familiar face, “It is.” After staring at him for a second longer than what was probably considered adequate, you pose your own question, “Haven’t we met before?” 

“Ah, yes- hello,” the man smiles at you, the sunlight glimmering off of the purple silk of his robes, “It’s been a while since the tea shop, hasn’t it?” 

This was the unknown man that had stepped in to confront Kangjoon for you earlier this year. It didn’t look as if he’d changed much, that happy-go-lucky aura still exuding from him as he stands in front of you. 

“It has,” you return the smile, “Thank you again for helping out that day.” 

“It’s no problem,” he says quietly, “Like I said that day, it was my pleasure. In any case, I’m glad to see that you’re doing well.”

 It’s not until this moment that you realize that he’d called you by name the last you’d met. You can’t recall giving him it, but your memory was still a little frazzled from that day.

“I’m sorry for not asking you your name despite all you did for me and those people,” you say quickly, remembering how Jihoon had been agitated that you’d forgotten to ask the man his name.  

His eyes shine for a moment, a faint melancholy in his voice as he responds, “My name is Lee Seokmin.”  

It strikes you as a rather pretty name, or maybe it was because he’d said it so lightly. Regardless, you nod your head in understanding, “How can I help you?” 

“Ah, well,” his eyes keep shifting from you to the Hwarang’s main building. You conclude he was here on some sort of business to discuss with the Hwarang. Seeing as the last you’d met, Seokmin had defended the tea shop against a rambunctious member of the group, you wonder if he’s here to report Kangjoon to the higher-ups.  

As if he had telepathic means to tell if you’d strayed away from your task, the front entrance of the hall swings open, Jihoon standing in the doorway. He looks from you to Seokmin and then back to you, pausing as if to let you speak. 

“Commander,” eyebrows raising in surprise, “This is-” 

Before you could finish speaking, Seokmin almost gleefully runs to the commander. 

“I knew it!” Seokmin says, an unhidden delight in his words as he smiles at Jihoon, “It’s me, Seokmin, long time no see!” 

“Y- Wait, Seokmin?” Jihoon looks surprised as the other announces himself, “What are you doing here?!” 

A laugh from Seokmin, “Are you surprised? I’m visiting Seorabeol with the Crown’s orders.” He waves his hand, “But forget about that. I can’t believe it was you connected to the Hwarang! I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Congratulations, you really followed your and Hoseok’s dream.” 

The name lingers in the air heavily for a moment between the two, you’ve never heard of a Hoseok before. Looking at the two of them, it must’ve been at least an acquaintance of theirs.  

Jihoon doesn’t let the weight last, breaking it with a small smile. “Come on, if I were to fully do that, I’d be a general by now. The Hwarang aren’t treated much better than the city guard at this point.” 

“Still,” a somewhat nostalgic look in Seokmin’s eye, “I’m sure he’d be happy either way. The Hwarang are famous in Seorabeol and gaining even more notoriety in other cities. With the raids last month, you’ve gained even more popular support.”  

Jihoon looks humble for a second, breaking his gaze with Seokmin to look at the ground. “We’re still working on that,” he mumbles out as the other laughs at him. 

It was an odd thing to see Jihoon flustered, you’d only seen a mild variant of his embarrassment when Seungkwan would really get under his skin. But you’ve never seen his cheeks go flush before. With Seokmin’s teasing and knowledge of something that seemed to have happened years ago, it would suggest that they’ve known each other for a while. Are they good friends?  

Once you sense their conversation coming to a lull, you speak up, “Commander, this was the warrior that helped me with Kangjoon at the tea shop a while ago.” 

“I see,” Jihoon muses and turns to look at Seokmin, “Sorry for her causing trouble, well, I suppose you saw something you shouldn’t have.” 

“It’s alright,” Seokmin nods, “I was just passing by for personal reasons. I didn’t report it.” 

“Thanks for that,” the commander offers a smile of appreciation. His gaze looks to the cloudless, sunny sky for a moment, “We don’t need to talk outside like this, why don’t you come in?” 

As the two make their way inside, you set the broom that was still in your hands next to the doorway and scurry off to the kitchen. You return to them some while later holding a tray of tea and assorted goods for them. After you’d set down the tray, Jihoon told you to stay, so you take a seat a little way away from where the two are conversing.  

“You said you’re here on Crown orders? What are you here for?” Jihoon asks, his hand hovering over his steaming cup of tea. 

“I’m currently working in one of the Sodang units.” Seokmin explains. He goes on to say a few more things about his duties, but you are unfamiliar with a majority of the lingo they use, so you try to follow along to the best of your ability.  

Jihoon, glancing at you and seeing your viable confusion, says, “He’s in the Naegeumwi, entrusted with protecting King Munmu and his family.” 

“Oh wow,” you look at Seokmin, “I’m honored to meet someone with such a high ranking.” 

“Please,” it’s the same humbled tone he’d used at the tea shop, “I only acquired this position because of the connections my father has.” 

“Why would someone with his rank need to visit the Hwarang?” You question Jihoon. While the Hwarang worked under the Crown, there was no direct connection, whereas it seems as if Seokmin works quite literally with the king.  

“Are you asking why he’d know a bunch of washed-up nobles and commoners like us?” Jihoon asks, almost teasingly. You nod gently, so as to not offend him. “You see, not only is Seokmin in the Naegeumwi, but his father’s father was Lee Alcheon.” Once again noting your confusion he clarifies, “A Sangdaedeung under Queen Jindeok some years ago. He opened a prestigious school after his time in office, and now Seokmin here is the heir to it. The school I attended socialized often with the Lee school and that’s how I came to meet him.” 

“That’s right,” Seokmin nods, “When I heard that I was heading to Seorabeol I knew that I had to find Jihoon.” His eyes shine with admiration towards the aforementioned, but the commander just scoffs and rolls his eyes at him. 

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Lee,” Jihoon sighs, “And remember: Seorabeol isn’t exactly a relaxing getaway.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind… However, even if it is dangerous, it seems even a woman can join the Hwarang?” Seokmin looks at you coyly before returning his gaze to the commander. He judges both the surprised look and glare from Jihoon for a moment before raising his hand to his mouth in surprise, “Was that supposed to be a secret?” He waits a moment, seeing as there’s no answer, he continues, “It’s not difficult to tell. I mean it’s not her fault.” 

“I know,” Jihoon’s probably recalling the first he’d met you; he’d been one of the first to figure it out, “Only a fool couldn’t see.” He resigns himself into a sigh, “Her reasons for being here are somewhat complicated, so we’re having her dress as a man for now. Only a handful of men in the Hwarang know of her circumstance, so I’d prefer if you didn’t speak about it in front of anyone.”

“I understand,” the guard agrees, “would it be too much to ask the reasons for her staying here?” 

“Her father is missing, so we’re allowing her to cooperate with our investigation,” Jihoon sets his hand around the now cooled teacup, bringing it to his lips and drinking the contents slowly.  

“Her father-” Seokmin’s brow furrows, “You’re talking about Heo Jinsang?” The second the name leaves his lips, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. How was it that he knew everything? 

“How do you know his name?!” You can’t help but blurt out.  

“Wait a minute,” It seems like the commander was also shocked by the revelation that Seokmin knew who Heo Jinsang was. He sets his teacup down onto the tray with a small clatter before looking bewildered at the guard. “How do you know her father is Heo?” 

“I visited the Heo Clinic a long time ago,” Seokmin explains and then looks towards you and asks in a timid voice, “Do you not remember me?” 

It clicks for you, so that’s how he knew your name and father. You search his eyes for a moment, nothing sparking a memory of him from your childhood. “Were you a patient of my father’s?” 

“No,” Seokmin offers you somewhat of a forlorn smile at your response, “I was interested in Tang medicine when I was younger, so I went to your father’s clinic to study.”

“I see…” still trying to recall his face, you nod your head. 

“Don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of me.”  

“What?” Jihoon interrupts, “What are you talking about? You don’t have to keep coming back here.”

“Don’t be like that, Jihoon,” He laughs at the commander and glances back at you, “We’re both from Gochang, we're buddies.” Seokmin then moves to get a little closer to the commander, clearly trying to fluster the elder. Normally Jihoon was composed and tried to keep himself together, seeing him easily behave like this was somewhat amusing. It’s almost as if he was enjoying himself. 

The three of you talking must’ve drawn the attention of the captains, because as Seokmin was teasing the commander some more, they slowly began to filter in. 

“Seokmin!” Junhui says as he sees the guard, running over to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder, “I thought you’d said you’d visit sooner!”

“We thought we heard your voice somewhere, Wen thought he was hallucinating,” Mingyu notes as he greets Seokmin. 

“Junhui, Mingyu,” a smile curling onto Seokmin’s lips at Junhui relinquishes him from his grasp, “And everyone else! Long time no see.”

“Can’t believe you’re in Seorabeol too now, are you here to train?” Junhui asks.

“Don’t be stupid, Wen. I bet he’s here to protect something or someone important, right?” Soonyoung questions as he looks to the guard.

A breathy chuckle from Seokmin, “It’s… something like that.”

“If you’re in Seorabeol, then it must’ve been a good job offer.” Hansol notes, as he looks at Seokmin.

 Seokmin nods silently to affirm him while Seungkwan speaks up, “If that’s the case: be careful. Don’t be stupid and go off dying on us.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Seokmin looks to the elder, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We should go drinking to celebrate someday, hell, we could go now if you want!” Junhui shouts out, eager to get out of the headquarters for a bit. 

The rest of the captains surround Seokmin for a while, immersing themselves in conversation and banter with the guard as he, too, seems to get lost in it all. So, he really did know all of them.

“Despite him being in the Naegeumwi, and heir of his grandfather’s school…” Jihoon’s eyes hold a fond warmth as he looks onto the commotion happening in the room. “He doesn’t hold that over the heads of the ranks lower than him. No one can escape his amiable nature.” The commander then turns to you, “Whenever he visits, be sure to let him in.”

“Alright,” you nod, not bothered by that order at all. Seokmin seemed to bring a warmth to the Hwarang men that you hadn’t seen too often, it was probably good for them.  

The men spent an exorbitant amount of time regaling about memories and incidents that had happened with their friend, and before they or you knew it, evening descended upon the compound with the orange glow of the setting sun. Seokmin notes this at one point and says he has to depart back to his duties. 

“When I return to Gochang I’ll ask about Heo,” The guard notes as he steps out of the front entranceway with Jihoon. You stand a few feet away from them and listen quietly to their conversation. 

“If you want to,” Jihoon nods in agreement, “Be sure to not tell anyone about our investigation.” 

“Of course,” Seokmin nods and glances over to you as if to affirm himself, “My lips are sealed.”  

As the three of you begin to make your farewells, from around the thicket of trees and down the walkway that leads to the entrance of the headquarters, you can hear the approaching steps of a returning group of Hwarang. They’re probably returning from their evening rounds, but you’re not sure who was on patrol today.  

“You’re- You’re that bastard from the tea shop, aren’t you?!” One of them freezes in their tracks before angrily storming over to the three of you. Almost instantly you recognize the voice and face of Suh Kangjoon. He stands before Seokmin, his voice irate, “Why the hell are you here?” 

Seokmin looks at him, his voice reserved and questioning, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t think we’ve been acquainted yet.” 

“Are you trying to mock me?” Kangjoon huffs, you’re sure if it were colder outside his breath would escape him in large plumes of white. “Name yourself!” 

“I am a member of Gochang’s Sodang unit under the Naegeumwi, my name is Lee Seokmin.” The guard states stoically, no inflection to his voice in trying to sound superior or below the man in front of him.

“A Naegeumwi… Lee…” It’s almost as if Kangjoon’s trying to piece together a puzzle, “Are you from Lee Alcheon’s-?”  

“Yes. I’m here in Seorabeol on official business.” Seokmin states calmly, “As I had some free time, I’ve come to visit my friends from Kwak Hall.” 

“Don’t lie to me! You’ve come to spread malicious rumors about the last time we met!” Kangjoon barks, his chest puffing out as if to intimidate Seokmin. 

The guard doesn’t seem in the least bit phased as he responds, “I have come here to see my friends, nothing more.” Seokmin shifts his weight from foot to foot as he brings his hand up to his chin in faux ponderance, “Or… Would you rather me remind you of what occurred when I last saw you?” 

His eyes sharpen at the Hwarang, who seems to have been taken aback by the statement.  

“If you say so,” the Hwarang cedes, realizing that he was in no place to argue with the commander of his organization listening quietly in on their conversation. “We’re settled. I’ll be on my way.” His voice holds a semblance of respect as he walks away with the handful of other Hwarang he’d arrived with.  

Despite the situation escalated by Kangjoon alone, Seokmin seems rather relaxed as he watches the Hwarang storm off into the compound. You only let out a sigh of relief when Kangjoon leaves your line of sight, you weren’t aware you’d been holding your breath.   

“Jihoon,” Seokmin asks, a small frown on his lips as he turns back to the commander, “Who is that man?” 

“His name is Suh Kangjoon,” the commander’s arms cross as he lets out a sigh, knowing full well how problematic the Hwarang is. “He’s a captain from the Hanseong unit who’s come to stay with us for the time being. I’m sorry about him, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you anymore.” 

“I’ll be alright but,” Seokmin looks at you before returning his attention to Jihoon, “Keep an eye on her. I’m sure if he found out she was here it wouldn’t go over well.” 

“I’ll try to drop by again soon,” Seokmin smiles, a twinkle in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and heads towards the city. You watch him as he leaves, his tall figure becoming smaller and smaller with every step before he eventually disappears down the pathway. 

Even if he was an important person and a friend of the Hwarang, he was an enigma to you. Seokmin was assuredly high amongst the bone-ranks, maybe even higher than the Hwarang’s commander, yet upheld himself with integrity and mindfulness to everyone he came across. You’d never been made aware of a noble that was like that before, most adhering to the rigid structure of the realm.  

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s hot. Blazingly so. The city is blanketed by a heat so unknown to you that you found yourself perspiring as you awoke that morning. You’d thought you’d been sick until you walked into the main hall and saw the other captains in a similar state to yourself. There was nothing to be done about it except for staying in the shade or perhaps cooling off by a river. 

Yet, that’s not what was in store for you. Ever since your actions on the nights of the inn raids, Jihoon has been much more forgiving in his attitude, allowing you to resume your patrols with the captains. And seeing as Kim Mingyu was about to head out, you decided to tag along. 

You regret that decision almost immediately when you step onto the city’s streets, the crowds not doing anything to damper the rays of sun beaming down onto you. 

“Mingyu?” You ask as the two of you walk down the street, “The Hwarang patrol both night and day, right?” 

“They do,” he nods, wiping the sweat that had accumulated around the headband on his forehead, “Why?” 

 “Why is it that you do? Wouldn’t that be more of the city guard’s job?” You question as you pass by an armory, the heat of its fires only causing you to perspire more.  

“Because most of the city guard’s been called to the front,” his shoulders shrug, “Emperor Gaozong called them to help his forces root out Gogoryeo last month, so they’ve had a decline in their numbers… I’m not sure when they’ll be back, I heard the King was leading generals to Siigok Garrison so I can only assume it’ll be a while.” 

“So, you’ve become the city guard then?” 

“I mean, in a way,” he thinks, “We arrest thieves, people who’re looking for fights and who don’t pay for their meals. And then there are those who think they’ll just mooch off merchants...” 

It wasn’t fully the answer you’d been expecting, maybe along the lines of it. The adoption of the guard’s role was something new, but you couldn’t fault them for it if the city needed their swords. Before you’re able to continue to question him, a few men in Hwarang blues down the road seem to be trying to wave Mingyu down. Getting closer to the scene, you can make out Junhui’s figure and a few more Hwarang men.  

“Hey!” He smiles as the two of you stand before him, he looks to you before asking, “Find anything about your dad?” 

“No,” a small shake of your head, “Nothing yet.” 

“Ah, cheer up,” he says, gently hitting you on the arm as he sees your downtrodden frown, “There’s always tomorrow.” 

“You’re right,” pepping up slightly at his words. Junhui seems to be able to energize and lighten the mood whenever someone was feeling low, it was something you’d noticed over the course of getting to know him. It was almost as if his optimism was contagious. 

“Did you find anything fun, Junhui?” Mingyu questions, probably wondering if there was any more reason for Junhui flagging you down other than wanting to say hello. 

“Nothing in particular…” Junhui admits, “But, all of the people on this street are acting really busy.” 

You think he’s being a little over dramatic, but a closer observation of the pedestrians and shopkeepers has you thinking a little more critically. There was almost a nervousness, an anxiety, threading itself through the air and in their movements.  

“It looks like they’re… packing up?” You observe, eyeing one merchant in particular boxing away his things. 

“You think they’re worried about the war with Gogoryeo or the Baekje guys?” Mingyu asks Junhui, crossing his arms. 

“I thought that the Baekje threat was resolved...?” You say, looking from Mingyu to Junhui, confusion seeped into your voice. 

The taller rests his hand atop the hilt of his sword, “We didn’t tell you, did we? Those Baekje bastards have been showing up again, that’s why we’ve been having extra rounds.” 

“Even if we did weaken them at Wonweol,” Mingyu frowns, “I can’t really imagine them standing idly around when we’ve put some of their men in the ground. And now that the king’s absent… it’s a little trickier for us.” 

“Were the loyalists planning on doing something?” You ask, the way Mingyu had spoken leads you to believe something had been in the works. 

 “Not sure,” Junhui says with a shake of his head, “Other than what we found out after the raids we haven’t gotten wind of anything else.” 

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Mingyu notes, “All we’ve got to do is do our jobs. The loyalists attack Seorabeol, we drive them out. It’s as simple as that.” The Hwarang just accept the cards they’re dealt and never seem to complain. 

“If the loyalists continue their stunts then we’re probably going to get orders from the king to do something whenever he gets back,” Junhui sighs, not knowing how long the sovereign would be out of the capital. 

“What do you think he’d decree?” A tilt of your head as you ask, unknowing what more he could make the Hwarang do. 

“In the past the Hwarang have fought almost as their own regiment, he might do that.” Junhui shrugs, his hand moving from his sword and down to his side. 

“That doesn’t happen too often,” Mingyu nods almost approvingly and then turns to you with a joking smile, “You should join us.” 

You laugh at the sudden invitation, knowing full well the offer isn’t real. Seeing as the female version of the Hwarang, the Wonhwa, had been thrown away since before the Hwarang themselves were even conceptualized, it was a long shot to think that you could march along their ranks. As much as you want to help these men, you’re not sure that they’d fully accept you into their ranks. But if you could aid them like you had on the night of the raids on the two inns, you wouldn’t mind doing something like that again.  

“If you want me to go with you, I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shoot back to Mingyu, cracking a small smile at him. “If you need me to help, I’ll do whatever I can.” 

His smile deepens, the dimples on his cheeks beginning to show, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if the time comes.” 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 18𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Excuse me,” you say quietly as you make your way into the main hall, the wooden handle of the teapot in your grasp coarse on your palm. The heat of its contents rising to try and weaken your grip on the vessel. “I brought you all some more tea.” 

The Hwarang captains and men sit in various spots around the hall, you’re not sure why they’re convening, but they’d been in there for at least an hour discussing some matter at hand. 

“Thanks!” Junhui calls out and beckons you over, he takes the pot from your hands and begins to pour tea into his already halfway filled cup, “It’s almost like you’re our servant or something.” 

More so a page, but you weren’t going to correct him quite yet. You take back the pot and look around for anyone who might need a refill. Spotting Eunseok trying to catch your eye, you make your way over and fill his cup. 

“Thank you,” he says once you’re finished, quickly bringing the cup to his lips, and blowing on the warm contents.  

“It’s no problem,” you smile, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to disrupt the main conversation flowing throughout the hall. As you’re about to move away, Seungkwan swipes the pot from your grasp, pouring his own cup of tea and taking a drink of it. His face contorts for a moment and you question, “Does it not taste good?” 

“It tastes fine, I guess,” his shoulders shrug as he leans back in his seat, “It could stand to be a little warmer though, maybe you’re just taking too long to pour it.” 

“Oh,” you frown, taking the pot back from him, holding your free hand to the side of the vessel for a moment to test the warmth, “I’ll go and brew some more.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Soonyoung butts in, motioning for you to hand him the pot, “I like it lukewarm because it’s easier to drink, right, Hansol?” 

“Right,” the aforementioned captain nods, “It’s easier to drink on a hot day like this.” 

It looks as if Soonyoung’s about to speak again before Youngmin barges into the hall, a stoic expression drawn onto his face.  

“The Hwarang have received an official request from the Crown to head to Ongsan Fortress. All available men must get ready to set out at once,” Youngmin says, a sternness in his voice hinting at a notion of pride somewhere hidden away in its depths. There’s general excitement beginning to buzz among the Hwarang before he continues, “It seems as if they’ve noticed all of our hard work as of late.” It’s then he lets himself break out into a prideful smile; it was clear he was proud of the work the Hwarang had achieved in the past few weeks.  

As you scan the faces of the room, there was one in particular that has a sour expression forming as Youngmin finishes.  

“We don’t have time to celebrate,” Jihoon says, rising to his feet, “We need to get moving now, so get off of your asses and go!” The captains and other men then begin to follow his lead and stand, “Those loyalists are already in Seorabeol, we need to cut the head off of this snake before it lays any more eggs.” 

Once the men filter out and it’s only you and the captains, Jihoon speaks up, “Only when there’s somewhere else to go they tell us to haul ass?” He shakes his head, “We may not be the Guard or the Watch, but it doesn’t mean we’re any less expendable.” 

“Soonyoung and Seungkwan,” Seungcheol says after Jihoon’s done mumbling to himself, “You’ll remain here. I know it’s not what you want, but your injuries from Wonweol are still preventing you from active duty.” You glance to his hand, knowing full well that the colonel would be staying behind as well.  

“Speak for yourself,” Seungkwan frowns, clearly perturbed by the orders, “It’s not like my injuries didn’t recover. But I’m not at peak performance, even I can realize that. So, if you want me to hang back, I guess I can…” 

“That’s bullshit!” Adversely, Soonyoung points to his forehead, the cut he’d received during the raids still an angry pink where the skin had been slashed. “This is just a scratch, Kwak’s just being too careful.” 

“Are you being serious?” Mingyu scoffs at the younger, “I heard you in your room crying about how much it hurt still last night.” 

“You bastard,” Soonyoung pouts, “Don’t you want me out there with you guys?” 

“Oh, believe me, I do, Kwon.” Mingyu shakes his head, chuckling, “I just want you at your best. Not crying into your pillow because of a scratch. Even you heard him, right?” He looks to you for affirmation. 

“HEY!” Soonyoung whines, you think he’s going to clamp his hand over Mingyu’s mouth but the older moves away before he can. “Don’t ask her! And can you try to keep your mouth shut for a little while?” Soonyoung then gives you a sideways glance as if to ask if you really had heard him complaining yesterday. 

“...Your injury still hasn’t healed, Soonyoung.” You don’t explicitly admit that you heard his grumblings, even though you had. The band he normally wears with the Hwarang insignia hides the scar well, but without it, like he is now, it’s a stark reminder that he isn’t quite ready for the front lines again. 

“Hm, you said you wanted to go with us if we ever got the orders, didn’t you?” Junhui interrupts the lull in the room as he asks you a question. “Are you still up for that?” 

Even if you said that you’d join Junhui and Mingyu when you were out with them the other day, you thought you’d been joking, or half-joking at least. It would be risky if you did join them.

“I don’t see any reason why you can’t tag along,” Youngmin says with a nod of his head, “Opportunities for the Hwarang to move under Crown command alone are rare.” While he’s supposed to be the leader of the Hwarang, Kwak Youngmin was very easily swayed by his men’s words.  

“What?” Soonyoung says, almost confused as he looks from Junhui to Mingyu. “If she’s going with you, then maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for me to tag along too, right?” 

“You’re still not where you need to be,” Junhui says, nudging the other with his elbow gently, “Just stay here and heal up.” 

“Are you sure it’s okay that I go with you?” You ask, still not fully convinced they want you tagging along with them. 

The captain and colonel sigh at your reservations.  

“We can’t promise that you won’t get injured, or worse.” Jihoon says, a distressed glint in his eyes as he speaks to you, “I think you should stay here.”  

“Staying here would be an undue burden on the rest of us that stay,” Seungcheol argues back, “We’re not here to be a source of entertainment for you.” 

“Seungcheol…” Hansol speaks up, “So, as long as she’s not being burdensome, she’s free to go with us?” 

Is he standing up for you? It seems to be the case as Seungcheol looks at him in surprise, his eyes widening at the captain.  

“You’re really in favor of taking her along with you?” The colonel asks, his brow furrowing as he tries to understand the rationale.  

“She was an asset to us as Wonweol,” Hansol’s shoulders shrug, “Taking that into consideration, I hardly believe that she can be considered a ‘burden’, when recalling that.” 

“Great!” Youngmin exclaims, relinquishing the two from their conversation as his hands clap together. “I’ll take full responsibility for your inclusion, that is, if you want to go with us.” 

“Do whatever you want to do,” almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Seungkwan speaks up. The two of you make eye contact, and a smaller version of the smirk he almost always has plastered on his face curls to his lips. “Just as long as you know that this is a battle you’re going to, not a party.” 

Maybe you’d be able to help them out as you had on the night of the raids. It was a strong maybe, but you couldn’t let that hinder your decision making, could you?  

“I’d like to participate,” you find the words falling from your lips before you have the thought of saying them in the first place. Perhaps it was your subconscious speaking for what you truly want.  

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 24, 661 - 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔞𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 (𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔞𝔢𝔨𝔧𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡) Entering the territory of the former kingdom is more eye opening to you than you had ever thought it would be. Rather than the calmness that had been exemplified by the King’s announcements back in Silla, there is an anxious tension wrought in the villages and towns as the Hwarang sweep through. Even though they were only passing by the inhabitants would warily gaze upon you, the captains, and the rest of the men as if to gauge how hostile their new countrymen would be. 

The main goal is to reach Ongsan, a former Baekje fortress that stands on the border between the two Kingdoms. It seems as if the same group of loyalists from Seorabeol had taken over the now-emptied armament and claimed it as their headquarters. The Crown assigned the Hwarang the mission of expelling them, in a way of their gratitude for their performance on the night of the Wonweol and Jeolin Inn raids. 

Judging from what the captains were saying this morning, it seems as if you’re not too far from your destination. You don’t know the layout of this land, the towns unfamiliar and the faces just as so. 

For the most part, the men have been silent, only the odd gripe from one of the Hwarang. The absence of both Seungkwan and Soonyoung are notable, their voices seeming to fill in large gaps of silence when in attendance. It’s not until your troupe stops in front of a walled gate, presumably leading into a city, that Youngmin speaks up. Before the group stands a few other soldiers, from Silla by the looks of their armor.  

“My name is Kwak Youngmin, leader of the Seorabeol Hwarang. I am here on orders from Kim Seokmin, an army general under His Majesty King Munmu.” He stands before an officer of the troupe that was already there. 

Kim Seokmin is one of the most influential members of the Crown’s court. The father of Kim Mingyu and former Hwarang himself, he acquired favor from the kingship due to his efforts in a handful of Baekje rebellions in the decades prior.  

The officer looks confused, his brow furrowing, “You were told to report here? Did you not meet with the men from Unghyeon?” 

“Unghyeon?” You mouth the word in the same confusion the officer was expressing. It’s a Silla fortress some distance away from where you all stand now, it hadn’t been brought up in any conversation the Hwarang had had on their trek. 

“Several generals and their troops were sent there to convene before the attack,” Hansol leans over to you and whispers, “If we were meant to meet with them, it’s most likely the message to tell us to do so was intercepted.”  

“Does that mean they know we’re coming?” You ask quietly, looking around to the other captains to try and gauge what they’re thinking.  

“It’s likely they’ve put the pieces together,” Hansol nods solemnly, “But I can’t imagine they have the numbers to rival both us and the other group.” 

“This could still get messy, though,” you sigh, hoping the break in communication wouldn’t be but so impactful to the mission. 

“Regardless of that, our aid has been formally requested,” Youngmin stands firm as he speaks to the officer, “If you could relay this to your commandi-”  

 “If that’s the case then I suggest you try and convene with the King’s garrison,” the officer states as he cuts off Youngmin, “We can’t let you in here because we have no idea what’s waiting on the other side.” 

“Our orders say to stay stationed here,” Youngmin frowns, clearly frustrated with the lack of cooperation. 

“There’s nothing we can do about this, Chief,” Hansol speaks up, stepping over to Youngmin. “If they won’t allow us access here, maybe it would be in our best interest to try and find the others.” It looks as if Hansol was going to suggest something else before Kangjoon interrupts. 

“Find the others?” He shakes his head almost angrily, “Kim’s orders were to stay stationed here until we were signaled to enter the city. Why would we ignore a military command when we haven’t received anything to tell us to do otherwise? I think we should remain here on standby.” 

“If this was a camp that we were stationed at, that might make sense, Suh.” Hansol states with a frown, “But this is, or very soon will be, the front lines of a battle.” 

“Are you really trying to go against me?” Kangjoon nearly snarls back, the mere thought of someone going against his wishes enraging him, “Don’t forget that I’m the Hwarang’s War Counselor.” 

“And I’m the leader,” Youngmin interjects, “Hansol’s made a good point. We’ll look for the other group’s camp and hopefully get a better understanding of the strategy at play.” 

And with his words, the Hwarang begin to walk along the narrow pathway surrounding the fortress in search of the other group of generals and soldiers that are on their way from Unghyeon. Your group eventually finds the ally camp to the eastern front of the fortress, wooden spikes that had been hastily made surrounding it. A few soldiers come out to greet a few members of the Hwarang as you enter, they might be friends or family members who haven't seen each other in quite some time. 

Almost as soon as you’d entered the camp, Youngmin is ushered into one of the tents to speak with a few generals. You’re not sure who’s in there, but with the pallid complexion of the Hwarang’s leader upon his exit, you can assume it had been higher ranks than he’d been expecting.  

The orders are now to travel to the Southern Gate, the opposite end of where your original orders had been to go with a general and his troops.  

“If these guys say anything, and I don’t think they will, just let me know, okay?” Junhui says as everyone begins to leave the encampment. “Park Kimsu’s not a friendly face around here.” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, not noticing Mingyu saddling up beside you. 

“What he means is, his father’s an enemy of my father,” Mingyu says, a gruffness to his voice as if he’s recalling something. “His father’s probably the one that sent the Watch out the night of the raids to try and take credit for what we did.”  

“That and he’s a major prick,” Junhui adds, “I can’t imagine his men are much better.” 

“Come on you guys,” Youngmin says as he slows his pace in front of you three, falling in line to your steps. “We can’t talk about them like that,” he contradicts his words by letting slip a sly smile for a few seconds before straightening his face and resuming his position at the front of the line.  

By the time you all arrived and set up your small camp, night had fallen quickly, plunging the surrounding area into an inky black, save for the lights several fires dotted around the site provided. Youngmin, Jihoon and the captains had gone off to speak with Park Kimsu and his officers, leaving you and the rest of the Hwarang to sit around camp with little else to do.  

They return what feels like hours later, their shoulders sagging and eyes looking tired as if they'd just run for that time instead of sitting in on a meeting. Eunseok, who had accompanied them, walks over to you with a small and lethargic smile.  

“For the most part they’re being cooperative,” he sighs, “The only reason Kimsu was paired with us is because his father asked for it, though.” 

“Why would he do that?” You ask a tilt of your head. Earlier, Mingyu has said that his and Kimsu’s families were something along the lines of enemies.  

“I don’t know,” Eunseok shakes his head, “Maybe to rile us up? Regardless of that though, we’re here to watch over the gate and make sure no one escapes.” 

“Regardless of that, they’re treating us like reserve troops,” Junhui’s voice is strained as he walks over, his arms high over his head as he stretches. Once he drops his arms down, he speaks up, “They’ve left smaller reserves around the South entrance because the biggest fight is going to happen at the North Gate.” He sounds a little disappointed, as if he were anticipating a big battle.  

“We don’t know what they’ll do exactly,” Hansol says as he trails after him, “We may very well see battle.” 

But that means waiting and seeing as the sun isn’t to rise for a long time, that means waiting overnight. As the crowds disperse and settle into their tents, you find that the Hwarang, at least, are sleeping in shifts so that if the call to arms were to come at night, there would be someone to rouse everyone else.  

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you need to,” Mingyu says as the two of you sit down to keep watch, the flames in front of you seem like they’re trying to lull you to sleep. 

“I’m alright,” trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you shake your head. You’d feel wrong trying to sleep when you know these men could get called to face death at any moment.  

A nervous anxiousness coils around your stomach until you find yourself falling asleep later in the night, not awaking until the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon. When you sit up from the laid down position you’d slept in, you notice that the men had kept a silent vigil all through the night. Even as you were drifting in and out of consciousness, you noted that there were men posted around the camp, looking for anything or anyone suspicious.  

A little while later a large boom reverberates through the surrounding forest. You first think it’s a crack of lightning, or maybe the subsequent boom of thunder that succeeds it, but the sky is clear today, not a cloud in sight. It had echoed like thunder, startling the birds in the nearby trees, and causing more people than just you to jump in shock.

“What was that?” You question Hansol as he walks past you, seeming to look for someone coming in from outside of the camp. 

“It looks like the main army is beginning to siege the fortress,” He says, his eyes narrowing as scans the tree-line. The soldiers and Hwarang within the camp are moving by now,  

“Let’s get a move on!” Jihoon shouts out from somewhere deeper in the camp, his voice nearing as he continues to speak, “They’re not going to pause the fight until we get there, so get moving!” 

“We were told to stay here,” Park Kimsu says as he emerges from his tent, probably stirred from the commotion outside. The general watches the scramble of men in the camp race for their weapons and armor for a moment before he turns to Jihoon, “You don’t command my men.” 

“Our job is to siege the fortress, not sit on our asses and wait for this to pass by,” The commander bites back, he was almost yelling at the general. “We’re here to root out these loyalists, that won’t happen if we just stay here!”  

“We haven’t even received orders to push!” Kimsu quips, his brow furrowing at the Hwarang.  

“If you have any pride in your position, forget the damn orders and move your men,” Jihoon huffs, straightening the band around his forehead, “They aren’t going to willingly surrender.” The commander and general stare harshly at one another for a moment, almost as if they’re testing each other in a battle of wills. Jihoon, seeing as it was useless to try to neg the other any further, spins on his heels and begins to stalk off. 

“Where are we going?” You whisper to Hansol as Jihoon passes by, muttering something to himself.

“To face the enemy head on,” He says quietly, “Which, in our case, means the Southern Gate. The main fight is meant to happen at the Northern Gate so I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to divide our numbers to get more support up there.” 

“I see,” You nod, the same nervousness invading your veins once again, it was now riddled with an adrenaline that was probably the only thing making you think clearly. 

Jihoon’s rage at the general seems to have roused the reserve troops, who now, instead of loitering around the camp, seem to be mostly readied up. Led by both Park Kimsu and Lee Jihoon, the army and the Hwarang march their way to the Southern Gate. 

It was only a short trek to the destination, but the remains of skirmishes that seemed to have happened moments prior litter the ground. Soldiers, dead and dying, lay on the ground, chunks of wood from the gate lay in reddened splinters as arrows, both broken and intact, lay riddled where fragments of the gate’s doors once stood. The group that had come before you seems to have successfully made it into the city, but not without losses of their own. You can see both Baekje and Silla armor on the bodies of the fallen soldiers.  

Even if you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you might see, the reality of it all still shatters your heart. 

Though the Baekje and Silla forces were nowhere to be seen, had your allies driven them further into the fortress? After a quick moment of assessment, Jihoon orders a few captains to investigate what happened, Youngmin sighing as he does so. 

“Had we known a group of Silla warriors were coming in beforehand we would’ve joined them and lost fewer lives.” He frowns as he looks over the scene, looking up once he sees Hansol returning from his survey of the area.  

“It looks like our forces attacked the gate earlier this morning, were repelled briefly before the flank on the Northern Gate began,” the captain recounts, looking to Jihoon, “After their forces were divided the army at the Southern Gate was able to advance into the fortress.” 

“Do you have any word on what’s happening at the Northern Gate?” Jihoon questions, obviously beginning to silently plan a course of action.  

“They’re still fighting,” Hansol nods, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if he can tell what Jihoon’s thinking, “The King’s garrison has yet to advance into Ongsan.” 

“Lee!” Mingyu shouts out as he returns from his own survey of the area, running from the direction of the pass to reach the stronghold. “There’s supposedly Baekje reinforcements coming from the west as well, not many, but enough to make a dent in our numbers if we let them.” 

Jihoon’s expression of confidence wavers momentarily as he listens to Kim as he approaches, but before he can comment on it, Chan also races over to the group of captains from surveying inside of the fortress.  

“Commander,” he starts off, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, glinting in the daylight now hanging overhead, “It’s believed that the men who led this are heading for the heart of the fortress to try and kill the loyalists trying to run for it.” 

The commander thinks after listening to the cumulative reports, contemplating as to what the next move should be. Although Youngmin is the recognized formal leader of the Hwarang, you’d come to learn the most major decisions were given to Jihoon to make. This was no exception, the crowd of captains anticipating his orders while Kimsu was speaking with his own men of what to do next.  

“It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Jihoon’s lips curve into a small smile after a moment of silence. “Kim, take your men to the pass to deal with any incoming loyalists. Lee, Choi,” he turns to Chan and Hansol, “follow the men into the fortress, but make sure to keep an ear out if Kim needs any reinforcements at the pass.” 

There’s nods and affirmations from the captains and officer before the commander turns to Youngmin, “I’m sorry for giving you the hardest one, Chief. Can you speak with the higher ups back at the main camp about a punitive measure for the group that got here before us? As far as both Kimsu and I were aware they weren’t supposed to do that, and I’ll bet they’re doing more in there than just routing out the loyalists. If we’re to do anything about that then we’ll need the higher ups permission.” 

While an independently run body from the Crown’s army or guard, the Hwarang still need permission to act under that guise of pseudo-Crown rule and dole out their justice. 

“I’m sure I can do something about it, and if not me, my father,” Youngmin nods, a smile forming as he thinks it over. You’re not sure who Youngmin’s father is, but if his son is the leader of the Hwarang, his position in the Crown’s council must be higher than anyone else’s father in the organization. It would still be tricky to gain that permission with all of the Hwarang naysayers and adversaries within the council.  

“Eunseok, can you go with him?” Jihoon asks and turns to their youngest member, “Someone has to keep an eye on him.” 

“Of course,” He nods, “I’ll do my best.”  

Jihoon smiles wryly at him before turning to the remaining Hwarang. “The rest of you are following me into the fortress and to the Northern Gate. As for you,” he looks directly at you, “You can’t go with Youngmin, but other than that it’s up to you.”

You know he doesn’t know where to place you. It’s not as if you’re one of the Hwarang he could command to a role and set you there. Maybe having you decide your own fate was a way to take the burden off his shoulders.  

“I’ll go with you, then,” You say after a moment of contemplation. Along with Jihoon, a group of Hwarang, and a group of regular soldiers, you’ll race into Ongsan and try to open the Northern Gate for the King’s garrison to make way into the fortress by suppressing the loyalists inside.  

The groups disperse shortly after, Mingyu and his men heading to the pass, Youngmin and Eunseok leaving for the main camp, Chan and Hansol leaving for the heart of the fortress, and then Jihoon and you making way to the Northern Gate from inside the fortress itself.  

Jihoon, you and the group of soldiers accompanying you race through the fortress. Seeing it from the outside had hidden how expansive it is on the inside, large courtyards and twisting hallways have your mind running in circles as you slowly run out of breath. You come upon another seemingly empty courtyard before stopping in your tracks. There was someone standing in the middle of it, someone wearing neither Silla nor Baekje armor. In fact, they are dressed more like a noble than a fighter. 

The sun is shining so harshly onto the courtyard as you approach that it’s hard to get a good look at his face. It’s obscured in the sunlight and the light yellow of his robes and the glinting silver of a blade in his hand is doing little to help that. There’s a strange aura surrounding him, almost as if he's waiting for something to happen. 

Jihoon, perceptive to that, motions for everyone to stop before encroaching on the character. The Hwarang stop in their tracks, save for one man too eager or arrogant to follow the commander’s orders and charges towards the figure with his sword out. The stranger seems to have only waved his arm once before the Hwarang falls to the ground, the dull sound of his body hitting the stone below echoing around the courtyard, the clangor of battle raging in the distance.  

“What the hell?!” Junhui shouts out, shoving his way through the throng of Hwarang and over to the fallen man. The man’s unresponsive, a thick pool of blood beginning to stain the ground under him. The rest of the men, first taken aback by the stranger, now glare at him for the loss of their comrade.

“You’re Hwarang, aren’t you?” The stranger speaks up, his blade tapping against the agate stone of the walkway, “I can tell because of those blue robes of yours.” He sighs out, “A bunch of pretty nobles playing soldier, aren’t you all old enough to know to stop playing pretend?” 

The man’s words are enough to make the already on-edge men agitated. Egged on by the harsh ridicule of someone they’d only just come upon. Each Hwarang, either noble or not, had their reason for joining. Taking their choice into question was cruel and that was clearly painted on their faces now.  

“First, you ruin my plans at Wonweol and now you’re trying to play hero,” They snicker, “You’re not even real soldiers, are you?” His gaze travels down to the fallen Hwarang momentarily before lazily and almost arrogantly meeting Jihoon’s eyes, “I’d turn back if I were you, unless you want to end up like your friend here.” 

“You’re the swordsman who beat Seungkwan at Wonweol?” Jihoon asks, the tension in the air thick and palpable as he speaks. “I heard you were quite good, but these are pretty big words coming from such a small man.” The smile on the commander’s face is anything but amicable.  

“And I heard that you all were talented, for what you are, but this sorry display is telling me otherwise.” The now adversary snickers, once again glancing at the dying, or maybe he was already dead, Hwarang. “The man I fought at the inn, his name is Seungkwan? It’s a bit of a stretch to call him a real swordsman.” 

You know from watching the men train that Seungkwan is skilled with a sword, but he had been injured by this man. Is his prowess with a blade more prolific than the Hwarang captain’s? 

“Insult Boo all you want,” Junhui stands from the body of the crumpled soldier to face the stranger, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip. “But why did you kill this man?” The hiss of the steel leaving the sheath cries out as he tears it from the scabbard, the captain’s teeth baring. “If I don’t like your answer then I won’t hesitate to tear you down right here.” 

“How prideful,” you can almost hear him roll his eyes, “The king says for you to ‘Jump’ and you say, ‘How high?’. Why are you chasing after men who’ve deserted their own movement? Or are you trying to let your own men in at the Northern Gate? Either way, your combatants are going to kill themselves before they’ll let you take this place by full force.” 

You glance at Jihoon and the men around him, not even one looking as if the other’s words were outlandish. It seems as if the man in front of you had stopped your assault on the fortress to spare the pride of the Baekje loyalists. From the stranger’s point of view, you can understand what he was doing and why he feels right about it. But that gave him no right to slay one of the Hwarang.  

“Is taking someone’s life for the sake of another’s pride just?” You speak up, distraught from this situation entirely, “The only one who can save your pride is you, not letting that responsibility fall into someone else’s hands.”  

A grin splits onto the other’s face, “There’s some truth in that, I suppose. Are you saying that I should let the Hwarang demolish any pride these men have just to simply gain favor with the Crown?” Despite the curvature of his lips, his voice is not amused. 

“That’s not what I…” The reddish-brown tint of his eyes scrutinizes you as you try to justify yourself, quickly falling away with the harshness of his demeanor.  

“Here I was, thinking you were trying to say something intelligent,” Jihoon steps in once your voice trails off, “but you’re just acting like a child. This is war, not a council meeting debating ethics!” 

“What did you just say?” Knuckles turning white with the newfound grip on his blade, the stranger questions accusingly at Jihoon.  

“The loyalists started a fight knowing their kingdom had been defeated already, and now they’re running away in shame because they’re too cowardly to face the consequence of their actions,” Jihoon argues, a heated tone to his words, “They don’t deserve honor! They’re traitors to their new kingdom by trying to incite a rebellion, you think that deserves an honorable death?”

 “Then you mean that they should’ve been prepared to die for their cause when they started this battle?”

“Anyone who starts a fight for a cause they aren’t willing to die for doesn’t know what it means to be a warrior.” Jihoon states, his hand hovering over the hilt of his own sword. “If they have an ounce of pride left in them, wouldn’t dying by your enemy’s hand while trying to stop them be better than falling onto your own sword?”  

Jihoon’s own conception of honor and pride aren’t something he can compromise easily, having been ingrained into him at an early age. But even then, you can tell that even if he and the stranger spoke for hours, they would never understand each other’s points of view. The commander finally draws his weapon, Junhui dropping into a fighting stance when he does so. Before either of the two do anything, Jihoon whispers something hastily under his breath that causes Junhui to relent his stance, sheath his weapon, and step back into the group of Hwarang.  

“You don’t seem like a coward,” Jihoon states, “So are you ready to accept the consequences of what happens when you kill one of my men?” 

“Those are some big words,” The stranger says as he raises his sword from his lax position, the gore from the fallen Hwarang still clinging to the blade, “Do you really think you can defeat me?” 

The answer isn’t verbal, but a ringing sound as their blades meet. They step back from one another, Jihoon’s grip tightening on his sword as he glares at the other. Now, the commander’s skill seems unrivaled but the thought that this stranger had beaten Seungkwan, the Hwarang’s best swordsman, lingers in the back of your mind as you watch.  

Next to you, you can see Junhui reaching for his own sword. If he were to leap into the fight, it would most certainly help Jihoon gain the upper hand. 

“You can’t,” you say and reach out, your hand falling onto his forearm before he turns to look at you. Meeting and fighting with this stranger aren’t why you and the Hwarang are here. The mission is to aid the forces at the Northern Gate. It isn’t any question whether this man was an enemy, a dangerous one, at that.  

Even if Jihoon can’t defeat him, he would never let the Hwarang abandon their mission, especially after his speech. 

Junhui turns away from you and watches the two men clash for a moment more, gritting his teeth and finally pulling his hand away from his sword. “Lee, I’m going to take your men for a second if that’s okay with you!”  

“Just go already, loudmouth!” Jihoon says as he once again falls away from the stranger, “They’re all yours!” 

“Alright!” Junhui calls out and turns to the men, “We’re heading for the Northern Gate, run straight there and don’t stop until those Baekje bastards have been put in their place!” 

The soldiers roar with a renewed vigor and begin to follow the captain. 

The stranger huffs something out as he watches the men run off, his hand clenching his sword as if he’s about to follow them. 

“You’re not fighting them, so pay attention,” Jihoon calls out to pull the stranger’s focus back to him. “If you don’t, I’ll cut you down from behind instead.” 

“Don’t get in my way!” The stranger shouts, bringing his sword down to meet Jihoon’s, the swing causing Jihoon to reel back once receiving it. 

Now that there was more of a distance between the two, the stranger’s gaze once again travels to Junhui and the running Hwarang. You think for a moment to stop running with the men and try to stand your ground with Jihoon, but relent after a moment, continuing to go further on with the rest of the troops.  

“Keep running!” Jihoon calls out, closing the distance between himself and the stranger, positioning his sword upwards once more.  

“You don’t even know your limit,” The stranger scoffs. 

You stop for a moment, finding yourself unable to keep up with the men. Looking back to the fray, you part your lips and shout out, “We’ll see you at the Northern Gates!” Leaving Jihoon without a word felt… wrong, so you yell out the not-so-subtle words of encouragement as you depart once more. “Come back to us in one piece!” 

Jihoon almost laughs at this, devolving it into a small chuckle as his gaze narrows at his adversary. “Who do you think I am?” A cocksureness riding along his words as you run past, only hoping that he would survive the encounter. 

By the time you and the rest of the Hwarang make it to the Northern Gates, it seems as if the King’s garrison has broken through already. There’re skirmishes happening all around the entrance but are soon quelled by the introduction of the Hwarang into the fight. Jihoon hadn’t arrived as the battles wane to a close and the sun begins to sink down into the sky. Several higher ups order a few of the captains to look for any remaining loyalists in the compound, leaving you to stand and wait for a sign of the commander or a returning captain. 

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” a voice says to your right. You’re met with the face of Officer Jeon, or Wonwoo as you’ve come to learn. Like Chan, he acts as a spy for the Hwarang but typically deals with Yamato forces, but he had accompanied the men to Ongsan this time, only showing how much more this mission meant to the Hwarang. “I know they will.” 

You can only nod your head in response and scan the area, looking for one of the faces you hope on seeing return. Every passing moment feels like an eternity, slowly inching by as the sun sinks lower and lower into the sky.  

It’s dusk when you see a figure emerge from the depths of the fortress, the darkening sky obscuring most of their features, but as they near the now lit courtyard you stand in, you can see that it’s a familiar face.

“Commander!” You shout out and race over to him, relief flooding your system. 

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Wonwoo says, following closely behind you as you stop in front of Jihoon. “It doesn't even look like you’ve been hurt.” 

In the light of the fires, you can see that the Hwarang hadn’t been injured, but he wears a dark expression over his face. 

“I hoped we would have a real fight, but it looks like it was over almost as soon as you all arrived,” he frowns, “held up by a Hwarang opposer, no less.” 

“Who was he?” Wonwoo asks, tilting his head slightly. 

“His name is Hong Jisoo. I don’t know if his father’s a part of the council or if he’s just a lackey under one of them, but he’s clearly very anti-us.” 

“But if he’s still working under Silla rule, why did he try to stop us from going after Baekje?” You question, confused by the swordsman’s actions, weren’t both sides there to stop the loyalists? Something about this isn’t settling right with you. “Does that mean he was betraying Silla?” 

“I don’t know about that, but I do think he was trying to stop us from getting here,” Jihoon sighs out, closing his eyes as if to recall the situation, “The soldiers who broke us up were also confused by whatever game he was trying to play. But they didn’t try to command him to do anything after we’d stopped fighting, so he must mean something to them.” 

“He must have some notoriety in their ranks, then,” Wonwoo muses. 

“He’s a lazy piece of shit who uses his rank or his money to do whatever he wants, more like,” Jihoon says with a bitter edge to his voice. “If he flaunts that around he has no right to try and teach me what his definition of pride is.” 

Before Jihoon can ramble and rant about Jisoo, Junhui and the detachment of men he’d left with returns to the battle site. Junhui stops for a moment upon seeing the commander before breaking out into a large grin. The smile doesn’t last long though as he approaches, the curvature of his grin turning downwards. 

“We found a few runaways, but they were already dying or dead by the time we got there.” At Junhui’s words you feel your heart drop. It’s not that you were sad that the loyalists were dead or that the Hwarang hadn’t been able to capture any one of them, only that more lives had been lost in the conflict.  

“Honorable suicide, then?” Jihoon nods, not sounding angry at the result. “Good for them.” 

“Good?” You ask without thinking, how is that ‘good’? Only hours prior the commander was trying to stop the loyalists from succeeding in that mission, but now that it’s been done he’s lauding them. 

“You don’t understand,” the commander says and looks towards you. “As Hwarang, this isn’t good for us. We failed and let them kill themselves. They’re dead, what good would it be for me to ignore what they’ve done? It doesn’t matter if they’re an enemy or my friend, a man who dies with his honor intact deserves at least some respect.” 

“I guess that makes some sense…” You mutter, not fully understanding the reasoning or what he was trying to convey.  

His expression softens slightly, “The longer you stay with us, the more you’re likely to understand our mindset.” 

Now that this group has come back together, you make your way to the campsite to meet with the rest of the Hwarang you’d parted ways with that morning.  

The event of the loyalist takeover of Ongsan and their eventual expulsion from the fortress comes to be known as the Ongsan Rebellion to the citizens of Silla. And while the Hwarang had been called to action, their efforts were stymied with unforeseen circumstances and were able to find little in the way of gaining major approval with the Crown. Communication with the King’s garrison and the army alongside him had been poor and much of the Hwarang’s time had been spent waiting for battle with the rest of the reserve troops. 

And even when they were called to arms, the Hwarang found a strange opponent at every turn:  

Hong Jisoo, who had defeated Seungkwan at Wonweol, had claimed to be a member of the pro-Watch camp of the council during his encounter with Jihoon. It still isn’t determined who his family is and why his stance is so firmly against the Hwarang. 

Hwan Minhyun, the man who had injured Soonyoung at Wonweol was also in attendance at the battle. While little more is known about him, he had claimed to be in allegiance with Hong Jisoo. 

And then there was Xu Minghao, who also fought along with the prior two men with little mention of his full allegiance.  

Whoever these men are, it’s clear to see that they’re no allies of the Hwarang. In fact, it seems as if they’re set to become one of their greatest enemies.  

The battle claimed the lives of thousands of men, the king ordering his garrison to behead any survivors they found. Even then, some Baekje loyalists were able to escape westward, further into the territory that used to be their homeland. With the end of the Ongsan Rebellion, the king passes an edict labelling any man that fought alongside the Baekje loyalists to be branded a traitor in the eyes of the Crown and an enemy of the court. 

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 8𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 With the events of the raid on Wonweol Inn and the Ongsan Rebellion taking place within only a few short weeks of one another, it was causing a certain unrest to take hold within citizens of Silla. The Hwarang are doing their best to double up on their work to make citizens feel protected, but with the return of most of the Guard and Watch, it’s difficult for them to receive missions as big as the raids and rebellion had been. And even if they are assigned a task, the Crown overworks them, seemingly wanting to bleed them dry.  

The Crown’s approval of any of their missions spreads them thin, even with the newer recruits they’d received from Podang and Gochang, it isn’t enough to keep an appropriate amount of people to instill peace. After many long and arduous meetings, it’s decided that Soonyoung, to slowly introduce him back into his role after his injury, will travel to Hanseong, one of Silla’s northernmost cities, to do preliminary scouting for future recruits.  

The burning sun hits your face as Youngmin and you see Soonyoung off, a bag slung around his shoulder having been packed the night prior.  

“I’ll be on my way now,” The Hwarang nods at the two of you, “Make sure no one gets in trouble while I’m away!” 

“I’ll try my best,” you smile at him. His presence would be missed at the headquarters, even if the other men didn’t want to acknowledge it.  

“Find us a solid list of men, it doesn’t matter if they’re nobles or not,” Youngmin notes, putting his hand under his chin for a moment. “But seeing as it’s Gochang, you might encounter more nobles there than usual. I’ll join you there next month to see who you’ve recruited.” 

“Isn’t there someone who you’re looking for?” You turn to Youngmin, “I remember you mentioning someone once.” 

“Oh, did we not tell you?” Youngmin sounds a tad miffed, “His name is Kim Gongmyung. Classically trained and the rumor is that he’s very well versed in strategy.”  

“To be honest, I haven’t met him but only once or twice,” Soonyoung relents, “But at the least I’m sure he’ll let me speak to him.” 

“That’s all we need,” Youngmin nods with a small smile, “His father’s on our side in the king’s council, and if we approach him kindly, I’m sure it’ll be within his interest to help us.” The leader seems confident just by his facial expression, but there’s an air of unsureness coming from the Hwarang.  

“Alright, I’m going!” He lets that discontentment fall from his features seconds later, nodding his head before speaking. Soonyoung then turns to you, “I’ll do my best to find any information on Heo while I’m there, so just hang on until I get back!” 

“Be careful!” You call out to him as he turns on his heels, bounding out from the main hall and towards the exit. As you watch him leave, and the smaller he seems to get the further he is from you and Youngmin, the melancholier you feel. Youngmin looks different though, a small smile residing on his face as he watches the Hwarang set out. “You look excited, are you thinking of all the new members you’re getting?” 

“Of course, seeing out numbers increase is great. Even more so if they’re strong and able,” He says as Soonyoung finally disappears outside of the main entrance.  

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 27𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Time passes quickly after Soonyoung’s departure. So fast that the date of Youngmin’s departure for Hanseong arrives with little resistance. The morning before he’s meant to depart, you find him standing in one of the compound’s courtyards, quietly watching the wind pass through the leaves overhead. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask as you approach him quietly, not wanting to startle him. 

“Hm, oh, hello,” he looks at you with a small smile, “I’m alright, are you doing okay?”

 “I am,” you nod, “I’m just thinking about how you’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“I see,” he says with a short chuckle, “I can’t leave Soonyoung alone for too long, can I? Who knows what sort of trouble he’s already found himself in?” 

“I’m sure your absence here is going to affect the men like Soonyoung’s is,” you sigh out, already knowing the feeling of having such a pivotal character of the captains gone for nearly a month now. Youngmin is the Hwarang’s leader. If anything, this will be a larger blow than Soonyoung’s departure. 

“It’s only a month,” he tries to reassure you, “I’ve been gone for longer before. And besides, Jihoon will make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m away.” Youngmin probably isn’t aware that his kindness and Soonyoung’s strange but bright personality were things that kept you mentally intact day after day here. With both absent from the headquarters, you’re not sure what kind of emotional blow it’ll have on you.

Your discontentment with the situation must have placated itself on your face because Youngmin looks at you now with a sad, small smile.  

“Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?” He questions in hopes that it might make you feel better, “I’m going to stop in Toehwa-hyeon on my way back, did you want a memento from your hometown?” 

“Oh no,” you shake your head, grateful for his offer, “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Are you sure?” Youngmin pushes a little more, “If there’s anything I can do for you, and as long as it’s within my power, I will.” You don’t want to ask any more of him, he’s so accommodating already that you’d just feel wrong in asking him to bring you something. 

“There is one thing…” You pause for a moment, “Could you train me?” 

“Are you-?” Youngmin’s brow furrows as he thinks of your statement, “Are you talking about fighting?” 

“I am,” you nod quickly. 

“Oh no… I think that would be a bad idea,” he sounds cautious, tentative, “I get really aggressive when I teach, if I ended up injuring you, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.” 

“I see…” You probably sound defeated, your shoulders shrugging downwards at his words.  

“But that statement came out of nowhere… Did you have a reason for asking?”

“If I’m going to help watch over Shoshin while you’re gone, I want to be able to instead of hiding while everyone else puts in the effort.” 

Youngmin chuckles nervously at that sentiment, “But you’re not one of the warriors, so I doubt you’d ever have to raise your sword to an enemy.” 

“You’re right, but I still want to be able to protect myself if something were to happen,” you insist gently, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. 

Youngmin mulls it over for a moment before perking up into a smile, “Well, if that’s the case, I’d love to teach you a few things.” 

The leader runs around for a moment, returning to you with a pair of practice swords and two cords so you can tie up your sleeves without getting hindered by them. Rather than use the traditional wooden practice swords of the Hwarang, Youngmin’s opted for the lighter bamboo variant as to not accidentally injure you with the splintery cousin.  

“Let’s start,” he says as he stands beside you, his own bamboo sword raised outwards. “I’ll warn you though, the style we teach at the Kwak school and the Hwarang are a little… arduous.” 

“I’m ready,” you state firmly and raise your own bamboo sword out to the open space in front of you. 

“Then let’s begin with your stance,” he says, looking towards your feet with a scrutinizing gaze, “You mentioned you’d trained before, right?” 

“It was mostly for self-defense, but I was taught how to use the blade I have with me,” you say as you look down to your feet, trying to position them correctly.  

“Then I won’t have to worry about teaching you a new form,” he notes, “Just get into the stance you’re most comfortable with.”

With the smooth grip of the practice sword in hand, you fall back into the stance you have memorized from all your practice sessions. Your hold on the hilt of the weapon tightens as you await instruction. 

“Too weak!” Youngmin shouts out, different from the calm tone his voice typically carries. “If someone’s coming from your front to attack you, the first thing they’ll reach is your sword and your arm. Tighten your grip more or they’ll knock the sword right out of your hand, be wary of that.”

“Okay!” You nod and try to hold onto the sword even tighter, the knuckles on your hand beginning to ache with the strain. It was somewhat endearing to know that he isn’t treating you any differently because you’re a girl.

“Now you’re holding on too tight,” he notices the tremble from the overworked muscles of your hand, watching the fake blade quiver in the air. “Because you’ll be a bit weaker than most you’ll ever fight against, you should try your best to avoid someone attacking you from the front. To do that you’ll need to dodge or redirect the blow from their sword, but since you’re holding onto it so tightly…” 

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Youngmin had begun his instruction, but the sun is hanging low in the sky now as you try and retain everything, he’s been teaching you.

“It’s getting late.” He muses after you finish swinging the sword for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s cause enough for you to look up at the reds, oranges and purples that are beginning to saturate the sky. And almost as if you’re pulled from your training, fatigue sets into your bones and causes you to collapse to your knees. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, clothes dampened with sweat, your breath hollow as you try to suck in more air than your lungs allow you. 

Youngmin looks over to you as you collapse, his stern expression from training you softening to one of concern. “I’m sorry!” He says, a panicked tone overtaking him, “I got so into it that I pushed you way too hard!” 

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, offering him a weak smile, “You ended up teaching me like that even though I’m not your student, thank you.”  

“I see,” he doesn’t sound fully convinced, but the worried edge to his voice subsides a bit, “If that’s how you feel then I’m glad I could help.” His face holds a mixture of guilt and hesitation, though, “I am sorry, I haven’t fully trained someone in years, and I suppose I went a little overboard.” 

“You mean before you became the Hwarang’s leader?” You ask as you shakily rise to your feet. 

“Right,” he nods with a nostalgic smile, “Jihoon, Seungkwan, and Eunseok all attended my family’s school. Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu joined us afterwards, Hansol never fully joined but would stop by often. We don’t have time for it now, but we used to test our skills out against each other nearly every day.” 

The topic of the ‘old days’ often came up when the captains were tipsy or drunk on their alcohol. Youngmin’s father had been high up in the Crown’s council when he was alive, but later left to start up his own fighting school, much like Lee Alcheon had done. 

“All of that training must’ve been tough,” you wonder aloud.

“It was,” Youngmin nods in agreement, “But it was fulfilling, in a different way than what our work is now.” He gazes off into nothing as he reminisces, causing a pang of envy to invade you for a moment.  

“Earlier you said you weren’t my student,” Youngmin speaks up, looking at you, “Since I am technically a master of my family’s school, and I spent today training you… I think that more or less makes you a disciple of the style as well. That would make you a student like a few of the captains.” 

His words cause a smile to break out on your face, “Thank you.” Obviously, it isn’t an official method, and it was hardly a full day’s worth of instruction, but it made an unbridled happiness bubble within you. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve taught me today.”

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◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

yours, always and forever | jeonghan

Author: bratzkoo | beta read by: @spnyin Pairing: perfumer! jeonghan x estrange wife! reader Genre: fluff, angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 5.9k Warnings/note: went on a shopping trip with my mom and i cried when i smelled rose kabuki by dior. Happy National Boyfriend's Day to our boyfriend, Jeonghan.

summary: Perfumer Yoon Jeonghan took the Perfume industry by storm with his intriguing perfume names that seems to be inspired by one specific person which makes the industry question, who is he even naming his creations after? Only Y/N, Jeonghan’s estrange wife knows the answer.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The soft glow of the setting sun painted the New York skyline in hues of gold and pink, a stark contrast to the sleek, modern interior of the penthouse apartment where Yoon Jeonghan stood, gazing out at the city he'd conquered. In his hand, a delicate crystal glass held a swirl of amber liquid, its aroma mingling with the lingering scents that always clung to him—a symphony of olfactory notes that had become his signature.

Jeonghan took a sip of his drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. His eyes, dark and intense, reflected the city lights beginning to twinkle in the twilight. At thirty-two, he was at the pinnacle of his career, a prodigy in the world of perfumery, and the toast of the fashion and beauty industries. For the third year in a row, the title of Perfumer of the Year sat comfortably on his shoulders, a crown he wore with a mixture of pride and nonchalance that only added to his allure.

The gentle ping of his phone drew his attention away from the view. Another congratulatory message, no doubt. They had been pouring in all day, ever since the announcement of his latest triumph. Jeonghan ignored it, choosing instead to walk over to his workspace—a sprawling, custom-designed lab that took up nearly half of his living area.

Here, amidst the orderly chaos of beakers, pipettes, and countless vials of essences and extracts, was where the magic happened. This was where he crafted the scents that had taken the world by storm, perfumes that didn't just smell divine but told stories, evoked memories, and stirred emotions in ways that left critics and consumers alike in awe.

Jeonghan's fingers trailed over the labels of his latest collection, a small smile playing on his lips as he read each name aloud:

"You, in the Garden."

"You, in Greece."

"You, in the Club Holding Your Favorite Drink."

"You, in New York."

Each name was a whisper of the past, a fragment of a story that the public could only guess at. And guess they did. Entire forums were dedicated to deciphering the meaning behind Jeonghan's enigmatic perfume names. Who was this mysterious 'you'? A lover? A muse? A figment of the perfumer's vivid imagination?

Speculation ran rampant. Some theorized it was a marketing ploy, a clever way to personalize each scent for the wearer. Others believed Jeonghan was leaving breadcrumbs, telling his own story through these olfactory chapters. The more romantic souls insisted it was an ode to a lost love, each perfume a memory crystallized in scent.

If only they knew.

Jeonghan's smile faded as he picked up the bottle of "You, in New York." The weight of it in his hand felt heavier than it should, laden with memories he both cherished and tried to forget. He uncapped it, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.

Notes of crisp apple and bergamot gave way to a heart of rose and jasmine, grounded by a base of sandalwood and vanilla. But beneath these carefully orchestrated notes lay something else, something only he could detect—the ghost of her perfume, the one she wore on that last night.

Across the city, in a modest but charming brownstone in Brooklyn, Y/N sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by discarded wrapping paper and birthday cards. The celebration had been small but joyful, a gathering of the close friends who had become her support system over the past few years. As the night wound down and the last guest departed, she found herself alone with her thoughts and the pile of gifts yet to be properly examined.

One box in particular caught her eye. It was elegant, wrapped in matte black paper with a single silver ribbon. There was no card, no indication of who it was from. Curiosity piqued, Y/N carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper.

Her breath caught in her throat as she revealed the contents. Nestled in a bed of black satin was a bottle she recognized all too well, even though she had never held it before. The clean lines of the glass, the minimalist label with its distinctive handwritten font—it was unmistakably one of Jeonghan's creations.

With trembling hands, Y/N lifted the bottle. "You, in New York," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. A humorless laugh escaped her lips. How fitting, how cruelly ironic that of all his perfumes, this would be the one to find its way to her.

New York. The city where dreams came true and hearts were broken. The city where, five years ago, she had celebrated her last birthday with Jeonghan. It had been magical—a surprise weekend getaway, a whirlwind of Broadway shows, candlelit dinners, and long walks through Central Park. It was the last time she remembered feeling truly, incandescently happy.

It was also the weekend that marked the beginning of the end.

Y/N uncapped the bottle, hesitating for just a moment before bringing it to her nose. The scent hit her like a wave, transporting her instantly back to that weekend. She could almost feel the crisp autumn air on her skin, hear the bustling streets, see Jeonghan's smile as he pulled her close on top of the Empire State Building.

Unbidden, tears began to fall, leaving glistening trails down her cheeks. Five years. Five years since she had spoken to him, seen him, been in the same room as him. And yet, with one carefully crafted scent, he could still reach across that divide and touch her very soul.

They weren't divorced—the paperwork sat untouched in a drawer in her study, a task neither of them seemed able to bring themselves to complete. But they might as well have been strangers for all the communication that passed between them. Estranged was the word the media used when they bothered to mention her at all. Jeonghan's mysterious wife, who had disappeared from the public eye as swiftly and suddenly as Jeonghan had risen to fame.

Y/N set the bottle on her nightstand, unable to put it away but unwilling to hold it any longer. She reached for her phone, scrolling through the countless birthday messages until she found the one she was looking for. It was from her best friend, Mina:

"Hey birthday girl! Hope you loved all your gifts. That last one... the perfume. I hope it wasn't too much. When I saw it, I just thought... well, maybe it was time. You can't run from the past forever, Y/N. Call me if you need to talk. Love you!"

So it had been Mina. Y/N wasn't sure whether to thank her friend or curse her for this unexpected trip down memory lane. She fell back onto her pillows, staring at the ceiling as her mind raced.

Did Jeonghan know his perfume had found its way to her? Did he still think of her when he created these scents? Was she the 'you' in every bottle, or had someone else taken her place in his heart and his art?

Questions she had buried for years bubbled to the surface, demanding attention. Y/N closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and provide a temporary escape. But the scent of "You, in New York" lingered in the air, a persistent reminder of all that had been and all that was lost.

Meanwhile, in his penthouse, Jeonghan had moved from his lab to his home office. The wall opposite his desk was covered in framed magazine covers and articles, a testament to his meteoric rise in the industry. His eyes, however, were fixed on a single frame tucked away in the corner of his desk. It was turned face down, but he knew every detail of the photograph it held—him and Y/N, laughing and in love, on their wedding day.

He reached for it, hesitating for a moment before picking it up and turning it over. They looked so young, so full of hope and dreams. Jeonghan traced the outline of Y/N's face with his finger, wondering not for the first time where she was, what she was doing, if she ever thought of him.

A notification on his computer screen drew his attention. It was an email from his publicist, marked urgent:

"Jeonghan,

The press is buzzing about your win and the launch of 'You, in New York.' Vogue wants an exclusive interview, and they're particularly interested in the inspiration behind your perfume names. I've held them off so far, but we need to give them something. The mysterious artist angle only works for so long.

Also, there's been some renewed interest in your personal life. A few gossip blogs have dug up old photos of you and Y/N. Nothing scandalous, but we should be prepared for questions.

Let me know how you want to handle this.

- Somin"

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, a frown creasing his brow. He had known this day would come eventually. The perfume industry thrived on stories, on the personalities behind the scents. He had managed to maintain an air of mystery for years, letting his creations speak for themselves. But now, with his continued success and the increasingly personal nature of his perfume names, the world wanted more.

How could he possibly explain the truth? That each perfume was a love letter, a memory, a piece of his heart poured into a bottle? That 'You, in the Garden' was born from lazy Sunday mornings spent in their tiny apartment's rooftop garden, Y/N's laughter mingling with the scent of herbs and flowers? That 'You, in Greece' captured the essence of their honeymoon, sun-kissed skin and salty air and the intoxicating feeling of being young and in love?

And 'You, in New York'... Jeonghan's gaze drifted back to the photograph. Their last happy moment, preserved in glass and scent. He had poured every ounce of his skill into that perfume, trying to capture not just the smells of the city, but the feeling of that weekend—the joy, the love, and the bittersweet edge of what was to come.

He picked up his phone, thumb hovering over Y/N's contact. He hadn't deleted it, couldn't bring himself to erase that last tangible connection. But he hadn't used it either, not in five long years. What would he even say? 

"I'm sorry"? 

"I miss you"? 

"Every scent I create is a desperate attempt to hold onto the memory of us"?

Jeonghan set the phone down, leaving the call unmade. Instead, he turned back to his computer and began to type a response to his publicist:

"Somin,

Set up the Vogue interview. I'll give them the story they want.

As for my personal life, it remains personal. No comments on old photos or relationships.

- Jeonghan"

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. It was time to give the public a peek behind the curtain, to feed the curiosity that had been building for years. He would craft a story, something romantic and mysterious enough to satisfy the masses without revealing the raw, painful truth.

After all, isn't that what he did best? Create beautiful illusions, capture feelings in a bottle, tell stories through scent? This would just be another performance, another carefully constructed facade.

But as Jeonghan stood to pour himself another drink, his eyes fell once more on the photograph of him and Y/N. For a moment, the mask slipped, and a look of profound sadness crossed his face. All the success, all the accolades, all the adoration from fans around the world—none of it filled the Y/N-shaped hole in his heart.

In the quiet of his luxurious apartment, surrounded by the fruits of his success, Yoon Jeonghan—three-time Perfumer of the Year, creator of the most sought-after fragrances in the world—had never felt more alone.

As the night deepened, two souls on opposite sides of the city lay awake, each haunted by memories and might-have-beens. The scent of "You, in New York" lingered in the air, a fragrant bridge across the chasm that separated them. Neither knew that this birthday, this perfume, this moment of remembrance, was about to set in motion a chain of events that would force them to confront their past and decide their future.

-

The sleek, modernist interior of Vogue's New York office buzzed with nervous energy as staff scurried about, making last-minute preparations. Today was no ordinary day—they were about to interview Yoon Jeonghan, the enigmatic perfumer who had captivated the fashion world with his mysterious creations.

Jeonghan sat in the makeup chair, his eyes closed as the artist applied a light touch of powder to his already flawless skin. He exuded an aura of calm, but beneath the surface, his mind raced. This interview was a calculated risk, a chance to satisfy the public's curiosity while maintaining the mystique that had become his trademark.

"Mr. Yoon, we're ready for you," a young assistant called, clipboard clutched to her chest.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, meeting his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his tie—a deep, midnight blue that brought out the intensity of his gaze—and stood. With a deep breath, he stepped into the lion's den.

The interviewer, a sharp-eyed woman named Clara, greeted him with a professional smile. "Mr. Yoon, thank you for joining us. Shall we begin?"

As the cameras rolled, Clara launched into her questions, starting with the safe and expected before gradually probing deeper.

"Your latest fragrance, 'You, in New York,' has taken the world by storm," Clara said, leaning forward slightly. "Can you tell us about the inspiration behind it?"

Jeonghan's lips curved into a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "New York is a city of dreams and memories," he began, his voice smooth and measured. "I wanted to capture the essence of a perfect moment in time—the crisp air of a fall evening, the excitement of possibility, the bittersweet beauty of a fleeting experience."

"And the 'you' in the title?" Clara pressed. "Your fragrances all seem to be addressing someone specific. Is there a story there?"

For a fraction of a second, Jeonghan's composure slipped. A flicker of something—pain? longing?—crossed his face before the mask slid back into place. "The 'you' is everyone and no one," he said carefully. "It's the wearer of the perfume, the object of desire, the memory of a love lost or yet to be found. I believe that the most personal stories are often the most universal."

As the interview continued, Jeonghan wove a tale of inspiration drawn from travels, fleeting encounters, and imagined romances. It was a beautiful story, crafted as carefully as his perfumes. But those who knew him best might have noticed the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers occasionally twitched as if reaching for something—or someone—just out of grasp.

---

The publication of the Vogue interview sent shockwaves through the fashion and beauty world. Social media exploded with theories and interpretations of Jeonghan's words. Fan forums dissected every sentence, looking for hidden meanings and clues about the mysterious muse behind his creations.

@ScentObsessed tweeted: "OMG, did you catch how his voice changed when talking about 'You, in New York'? There's definitely a real story there! #YoonJeonghan #PerfumeMystery"

A popular beauty vlogger released a 20-minute video analyzing Jeonghan's body language during the interview, claiming to have spotted at least five instances where he seemed to be holding back tears.

Even serious fashion critics couldn't resist speculating. A piece in WWD posed the question: "Is Yoon Jeonghan's entire oeuvre an olfactory autobiography? The clues hidden in his fragrances."

---

Across the city, Y/N sat at her kitchen table, a cup of coffee growing cold beside her as she stared at her laptop screen. The Vogue article was open, Jeonghan's face looking back at her from a series of artfully shot photographs.

She had promised herself she wouldn't read it. Had sworn she was past all this, that she had moved on. But curiosity—and perhaps something deeper, something she wasn't ready to name—had gotten the better of her.

Now, as she read his carefully crafted words, Y/N felt a complex mix of emotions churning inside her. Anger at the half-truths, sadness at the memories his words evoked, and a traitorous flutter of her heart at the moments where she could see through his facade to the man she once knew so well.

A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. Y/N closed the laptop quickly, as if hiding evidence of a crime, before going to answer.

"Ms. Y/N?" A woman with a press badge stood in the hallway, notepad in hand. "I'm Mia from Style Weekly. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Yoon Jeonghan's latest interview."

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, moving to close the door.

The reporter's foot blocked the doorway. "Please, just a moment. Your connection to Mr. Yoon is a matter of public record. Surely you must have some insight into the inspirations behind his work?"

"No comment," Y/N managed, her voice strangled. She pushed the door closed with more force, hearing the reporter's muffled protests from the other side.

Leaning against the door, Y/N slid to the floor, her heart pounding. It was happening again. The life she had carefully rebuilt, separate from Jeonghan and his world of glitz and glamour, was threatening to crumble around her.

---

In his penthouse, Jeonghan paced back and forth, phone pressed to his ear. "Somin, I thought we agreed to keep my personal life out of this," he said, frustration evident in his voice.

His publicist's calm tones came through the speaker. "Jeonghan, we did our best, but you have to understand. The public is hungry for this. Your story, the mystery—it's what sells. The interview was a huge success."

"At what cost?" Jeonghan muttered, more to himself than to Somin.

After ending the call, he walked to his workspace, surrounded by the tools of his trade. His fingers trailed over the bottles of his creations, lingering on "You, in New York."

For a moment, he allowed himself to remember—truly remember, not the sanitized version he had presented to the world. He saw Y/N's smile as they watched the sunset from the Top of the Rock, felt the warmth of her hand in his as they strolled through Central Park.

Almost without conscious thought, his hand reached for his phone. Y/N's contact information stared back at him, unchanged after all these years. His thumb hovered over the call button.

A war raged inside him. The desire to hear her voice, to explain, to apologize, warred with the fear of rejection, of reopening old wounds.

In the end, he set the phone down, the call unmade. But the desire, the need, lingered.

---

"Y/N, have you seen this?" Mina's voice came through the phone, excitement evident. "Jeonghan's Vogue interview. Girl, he's talking about you."

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Mina, please. You know I don't want to hear about—"

"No, listen," Mina interrupted. "He talks about a moment in New York, watching the sunset from a rooftop garden. That was you two, wasn't it? On your last birthday together?"

Y/N's breath caught. She remembered that evening with painful clarity—the golden light, the gentle breeze, the feeling that everything was perfect. It was mere days before it all fell apart.

"It doesn't matter," Y/N said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"Honey," Mina said gently, "I think it does. He's been telling your story all along, in every bottle. Maybe... maybe it's time to tell yours."

After hanging up, Y/N found herself once again staring at the bottle of "You, in New York." She uncapped it, letting the scent envelop her. In that moment, she allowed herself to truly feel everything she had been suppressing for years.

The realization hit her like a wave: Jeonghan hadn't forgotten. Every perfume, every story, was a message in a bottle, cast out into the world in hopes that someday, somehow, it would reach her.

---

The charity gala was in full swing, the cream of New York society mingling amidst the glittering decor of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Jeonghan moved through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, the perfect image of the successful artist.

He was in the middle of a conversation with a fashion designer when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with an old friend—one he shared with Y/N.

"Jeonghan," the friend said, a strange mix of emotions playing across their face. "It's been too long."

As they talked, catching up on the years that had passed, Jeonghan found himself hungry for any scrap of information about Y/N. He tried to be subtle, but his old friend saw right through him.

"She's doing well, Jeonghan," they said softly. "She's strong. But... I think she misses you too."

The words hit Jeonghan like a physical blow. He excused himself, making his way to a quiet corner of the museum. His carefully constructed world felt like it was shifting beneath his feet.

Across the city, Y/N was experiencing a similar upheaval. A mutual friend had let slip that Jeonghan had asked about her, that he still kept a photo of them on his desk.

As the night wore on, both Jeonghan and Y/N found themselves standing at a crossroads. The walls they had built, the distance they had maintained, suddenly seemed more like obstacles than protection.

Unbeknownst to each other, they both reached for their phones at nearly the same moment. Fingers hovering over screens, hearts pounding, they stood on the precipice of a decision that could change everything.

In the air, the faint scent of "You, in New York" lingered, a reminder of what was lost and what, perhaps, could still be found.

The stage was set. The next move was theirs.

-

The Autumn chill nipped at Y/N's skin as she stood outside the small café, her hands shoved deep into her coat pockets. Her eyes darted nervously up and down the street, searching for a familiar face she hadn't seen in years. Her heart raced, a mix of anticipation and fear coursing through her veins.

She almost jumped when her phone buzzed. A text from Jeonghan: "I'm here."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she spotted him rounding the corner. Jeonghan looked much the same as she remembered, yet somehow different. His hair was styled differently, and he carried himself with a weariness that hadn't been there before. But his eyes—those eyes that had once looked at her with such love—were as intense as ever.

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the busy New York street faded away. It was just the two of them, standing on opposite sides of a chasm five years in the making.

Jeonghan reached her first, stopping a few feet away. "Y/N," he said, his voice a mix of relief and uncertainty.

"Jeonghan," she replied, surprised at how steady her own voice sounded.

An awkward silence fell between them, years of unspoken words and suppressed emotions creating an almost tangible barrier.

"Should we..." Jeonghan gestured towards the café, and Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion.

Inside, they found a quiet corner booth. The warm, coffee-scented air was a stark contrast to the tension between them. They ordered—an Americano for him, a latte for her, just like old times—and then faced each other across the small table.

"You look well," Jeonghan said, his fingers fidgeting with a sugar packet.

Y/N managed a small smile. "So do you. I... I've seen your interviews. Congratulations on all your success."

Jeonghan's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "Thank you. I hear you're doing well too. Teaching, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, literature at NYU. It's... it's good."

Another silence fell, heavier this time. Y/N took a sip of her latte, using the moment to gather her thoughts.

"Why did you want to meet, Jeonghan?" she finally asked, setting her cup down perhaps a bit too forcefully.

Jeonghan looked up, meeting her gaze directly for the first time since they sat down. "I... I missed you, Y/N. Every day for five years, I've missed you."

The raw honesty in his voice caught Y/N off guard. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and blinked them back furiously.

"You missed me?" she repeated, a hint of bitterness creeping into her tone. "You're the one who left, Jeonghan. You chose your career over us."

Jeonghan flinched as if he'd been slapped. "I know," he said softly. "And I've regretted it every day since."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, familiar bottle. Y/N's breath hitched as she recognized it—"You, in New York."

"Every scent, every name," Jeonghan continued, his voice thick with emotion, "they were all for you. About you. My way of holding onto what we had, what I threw away."

Y/N stared at the bottle, memories flooding back. The laughter, the love, the pain—it all came rushing back in a dizzying whirl.

"I thought I was protecting you," Jeonghan said. "The pressure, the spotlight—it was destroying us. I thought... I thought if I let you go, you could have a normal life. Be happy."

"That wasn't your choice to make," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You should have talked to me. We could have figured it out together."

Jeonghan nodded, running a hand through his hair in a gesture so familiar it made Y/N's heart ache. "I know that now. God, Y/N, I know. I was young and stupid and scared. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was just a coward."

Y/N felt the walls she'd built around her heart begin to crumble. She reached out, almost unconsciously, and took the perfume bottle from Jeonghan's hand. As she did, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"I tried to hate you," Y/N admitted, her thumb tracing the label of the bottle. "I tried so hard to forget, to move on. But then I'd catch a whiff of one of your perfumes, or see your face on a magazine cover, and it all came flooding back."

Jeonghan leaned forward, his eyes pleading. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... is there any chance? For us? I'm not the same man I was five years ago. I've learned, I've grown. And I know now that nothing—no amount of success or fame—means anything without you."

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling tears slip down her cheeks. When she opened them again, she saw that Jeonghan's eyes were also wet.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "You hurt me, Jeonghan. Deeply. That's not something that can be fixed with a conversation and some pretty words."

Jeonghan nodded, his face falling. But before he could speak, Y/N continued.

"But... I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you too. That I didn't still love you, despite everything."

Hope bloomed in Jeonghan's eyes. "So... what does that mean?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "It means... it means maybe we can try. Slowly. No grand gestures, no rushing back into things. We need to relearn each other, rebuild trust. Can you do that?"

Jeonghan reached across the table, gently taking Y/N's hand in his. The familiar warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"Y/N, I would wait a lifetime if that's what it took. We'll go as slow as you need. I just... I just want a chance to make things right."

For the first time since they sat down, Y/N felt a genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's try."

-

The gentle spring breeze carried the scent of cherry blossoms through Central Park, where Jeonghan and Y/N walked hand in hand, their steps slow and purposeful. Two years had passed since that fateful night when they both reached for their phones, finally bridging the gap that had separated them for so long.

"I still can't believe we're here," Y/N said, squeezing Jeonghan's hand. "Sometimes I think I'll wake up and find it was all a dream."

Jeonghan brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "If it's a dream, then I never want to wake up," he replied, his eyes shining with emotion.

They found a quiet bench overlooking the lake, the same spot where they had sat years ago, planning their future together. Now, older and wiser, they sat again, the weight of their shared history and renewed love settling comfortably between them.

"The launch is tomorrow," Jeonghan said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Are you ready?"

Y/N took a deep breath, nodding. "As ready as I'll ever be. It's still surreal, you know? Being back in this world, but on my own terms this time."

The past two years had been a whirlwind of rediscovery and healing. After their reconnection, Jeonghan and Y/N had taken things slowly, rebuilding trust and relearning each other. Y/N had been adamant about maintaining her independence, refusing to be swallowed up by Jeonghan's world as she had been before.

To everyone's surprise—including her own—Y/N had discovered a talent for perfumery. What had started as curious questions about Jeonghan's process had evolved into a genuine passion. Under his guidance, she had begun to create her own scents, her natural intuition complementing Jeonghan's technical expertise.

And now, tomorrow, they would launch their first collaborative perfume.

"I have something for you," Jeonghan said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small, elegant bottle, its contents shimmering in the afternoon sun.

Y/N gasped, recognizing the prototype they had been working on. "Is this...?"

Jeonghan nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "The final version. I wanted you to be the first to see it—to smell it."

With trembling hands, Y/N took the bottle. The label read "Essence of Us" in Jeonghan's distinctive handwriting. Below it, in smaller letters: "By Jeonghan & Y/N."

She uncapped the bottle, bringing it to her nose. The scent enveloped her immediately—bright citrus notes of bergamot and lemon, giving way to a heart of rose and jasmine, grounded by warm sandalwood and a hint of vanilla. But there was something more, something uniquely them—a note that spoke of long nights of conversation, of laughter shared over coffee, of gentle kisses and whispered promises.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "It's perfect," she whispered.

Jeonghan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "It's us," he said simply. "All of us. The good, the bad, the journey we've taken."

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Jeonghan and Y/N sat in comfortable silence, the scent of their creation lingering in the air around them.

The launch event for "Essence of Us" was the talk of the fashion world. Held in the same New York hotel where Jeonghan and Y/N had celebrated her last birthday before their separation, it was a poignant reminder of how far they had come.

Cameras flashed as Jeonghan and Y/N stepped onto the red carpet, a united front. Y/N, dressed in a flowing gown that shimmered like liquid silver, looked every inch the confident co-creator, a far cry from the woman who had once hidden in Jeonghan's shadow.

Inside, the room was transformed into a sensory wonderland. Different stations represented the various notes of the perfume, allowing guests to experience each element individually before sampling the final product.

As the crowd mingled and the excitement built, Jeonghan clinked a glass, calling for attention. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the stage where he and Y/N stood.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," Jeonghan began, his voice carrying easily through the room. "This launch is special for many reasons, but none more so than the fact that it represents not just a new scent, but a new chapter."

He turned to Y/N, love evident in his gaze. "For years, my perfumes told the story of what I had lost. They were messages in bottles, cast out into the world in the hope that someday, they might find their way back to the one who inspired them."

Y/N stepped forward, taking Jeonghan's hand. "And I heard those messages," she continued, her voice strong and clear. "Even when I tried not to listen, even when I thought that chapter of my life was closed forever. They called to me, reminding me of a love that never truly faded."

Together, they unveiled the perfume—an elegant bottle that seemed to capture the light, refracting it into a thousand tiny rainbows.

"'Essence of Us' is more than just a perfume," Jeonghan said. "It's a testament to the power of love, of forgiveness, of second chances. It's the scent of two people who lost their way, only to find that all paths led back to each other."

Y/N nodded, adding, "It's also a new beginning. A declaration that our story isn't just about the past, but about the future we choose to create together."

As the crowd applauded and the first samples of "Essence of Us" were distributed, Jeonghan and Y/N shared a private smile. They had poured their hearts into this creation, distilling years of love, loss, and rediscovery into a single, perfect scent.

Months later, as "Essence of Us" continued to top bestseller lists and garner critical acclaim, Jeonghan and Y/N found themselves back in their favorite spot in Central Park. The trees were ablaze with autumn colors, a crisp breeze carrying the promise of winter.

"I've been thinking," Jeonghan said, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness. "About the future. About us."

Y/N looked at him curiously. "Oh? And what have you been thinking?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, reaching into his pocket. "I've been thinking that maybe it's time for a new scent. Something... permanent."

He pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a stunning ring. The design was unique—a delicate gold band that twisted into the shape of an infinity symbol, set with tiny diamonds that caught the light like drops of perfume.

"Y/N," Jeonghan said, his voice thick with emotion, "will you marry me? Again? For real this time, for always?"

Tears sprang to Y/N's eyes as she nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. As Jeonghan slipped the ring onto her finger, she finally found her voice. "Yes," she whispered. "Forever and always."

They sealed the promise with a kiss, the scent of "Essence of Us" mingling with the crisp autumn air. As they broke apart, both laughing and crying, Jeonghan's eyes lit up with that familiar spark of inspiration.

"I think I know what our next perfume will be called," he said, grinning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh? Do tell."

Jeonghan pulled her close, whispering in her ear: "You, Forever and Always."

And as they walked hand in hand through the park, already discussing notes and accords for their new creation, both Jeonghan and Y/N knew that this—their love, their passion, their shared creativity—was the most intoxicating scent of all.

how svt sleeps with their s/o

contains: gn!reader, fluff

a/n: my horny juices ran out and i’ve been feeling shitty so here’s a comfort piece😁

—

seungcheol: will 100% choke you to death w his iron grip. you are his living teddy bear and you’re not getting away from him any time soon.

jeonghan: gets so close to you, you’re afraid you guys are gonna morph together like the power rangers. expects the same energy from you or he’ll be #offended.

joshua: very simple man, likes to hold you and be held. will go !!! if he can’t feel you in the middle of the night just to realise you went to the toilet.

jun: doesn’t react when you sleep closely to him so you go ??? and decide to sleep on your side but then he just picks you up and lays you on him. a blanket. you are a blanket to him.

hoshi: holds onto one of your arms and places his head on your shoulder. very peaceful sleeper, doesn’t move much and doesn’t wake up easily.

wonwoo: not super physical but needs to know you’re there so there will always be an arm or leg of his entangled with yours. also likes to place his head on your chest.

woozi: this might be out of character for him but he likes sleeping close to you. close enough that he can feel your presence but far enough that your bodies don’t touch. the proximity puts him at ease.

dokyeom: an actually fucking koala. every limb of his body is somehow wrapped around your body and his face rests in the crook of your neck. while hold you tighter if you don’t hold him back so please do if you don’t wanna die young😢

mingyu: sleeps on top you. there’s no way to sugar coat this.

minghao: he strikes me as “i sleep on my side and you sleep on your side” kinda guy so no cuddles during sleepy time w him :(

seungkwan: there is not one position in the world that could satisfy him so he’ll change positions a bunch of times before falling asleep and even unconsciously, when he’s asleep. all of those positions involve somehow being in your arms of course.

vernon: we’ve literally all seen how he sleeps on his back so if you want to hold him in your sleep, you’re gonna have to sleep on top of him. he doesn’t mind at all and will throw an arm across your back to reciprocate the affection.

dino: is the big spoon, will turn you right around if you even move an inch. unless you’re physically stronger than him, i think you’re gonna have to sit this one out chief :/

Something to Believe In: Prologue Part One

Pairing: n/a, this section will just be a backstory for newsie!reader.

Prompt: Newsies inspired Seventeen fic

Warnings: Implications of child labor and unsafe/unfair working conditions. All is safe during the time of the fic though.

Release Date: August 30, 2024

Summary:

It’s 1899 after the infamous Newsboys’ Strike in which Newsies of New York City successfully negotiated fair prices of newspapers. Tensions have finally ceased between the higher ups of the newspaper company, The New York World, and the lower employees, the Newsies, who work for them selling newspapers all across the city. You’re the leader of a smaller newspaper printing company based in Gramercy selling newspapers for the Gramercy Gazette. You love your job there but since the big strike, smaller newspaper companies are combining with bigger ones like The New York World, and you fear you might have to change neighborhoods soon. Still, you continue to lead your group of newsies and do the best to protect them out on the streets of New York City.

Prologue Part One: Another Day Carryin' the Banner

You woke up on your cot to the sound of distant church bells chiming. Being a light sleeper, you always woke up to the first church bells of the day. The sun had barely started to show its bright rays for the day but a bluish hue lit up the room. As your eyes adjusted, you could see everyone else sleeping in the close quarters you all shared. Next to you were three of your closest friends, all cuddled up in a singular bed meant to fit only one of them. No matter how uncomfortable it got, they refused to sleep anywhere else, loving the comfort that closeness offered them. A little further away, sleeping atop some blankets set atop the hard wooden floor, were some of the newer folks who joined us right after the big strike in hopes of a place with better working conditions than the factories from which they came. Against the wall, you spotted the youngest of your group, snoring loudly. She was cute as a button, only 6 years old, but was a natural at sellin’ papes. Whether they’d been there as long as you, or had just started yesterday, you considered all of them your family. You considered all Newsies to be your family but these ones was special. You’d never had anyone else to call family for as long as you could remember so you considered the Newsies yours. You didn’t care who they were or where they came from. You were just there to sell papes and be there for them. Help ‘em out whenever they need it. And stand up for them if necessary. 

You sat up on your cot, dangling your feet off so they touched the floor, and stretched your arms up to the ceiling. Another day of work and everyone was counting on you to wake them up. 

“Alright Newsies, let’s go! Another day, another dollar! Winks! Peggy! Laces! I know you three bums want an extra 5 minutes of sleep but not today!” you called out to all your Newsies. “Gramercy is gonna be awake soon so we better get a move on!” 

You always made sure to keep your neck of the woods on a tight schedule. That way you could always be on time to pick up your papes as soon as they were released from the Gramercy Gazette, or the GG as you called it, and you could beat the other boroughs to the streets to make your coin. As long as you kept to a schedule and made sure that the GG was making plenty of money to stay in business, you could ensure you are being the best leader of the Gramercy Newsies that you could possibly be. You’d worked your way up in the ranks since you started with the GG and you’d finally made it to the top… the top of the Newsie ranks, that is. But you were happy with that… for now.

Everyone started getting up and going about their morning routines, some bathing in tin wash basins, others shaving their faces, others braiding their hair up and out of their faces. You made your way out to the fire escape where you’d hung your clothes to dry the day before and grabbed a pair of trousers and a shirt. You put them on and then laced up your boots and put on your cap, backwards like you always wore it. After a little while longer, everyone else was ready to go too, and you led them all downstairs to the printing facilities to buy the day’s papes. 

Another day carryin’ the banner. With the big election coming up, you expected the papes to be full of political news stories- a topic that was thankfully more appealing than the trolley strike from a few weeks back. You quickly scanned the front of the paper and confirmed that it was some news story about a local politician trying to make his way up in the ranks and instructed everyone else to buy extra papes for the day, knowing they’d sell them easily. You’d begged one of the other newsies to teach you to read and write when you were younger- skills that most newsies did not possess- thinking that it might help you in the future. Evidently, that was a smart move. Now as their leader, you could advise the other newsies on how many papes they should buy, depending on the story on the front page. Even after the strike, knowing the GG would buy the papes back that weren’t sold, it was more of a convenience thing than anything, especially for those who were younger. 

You stepped up to the newspaper distribution window first and were faced with Mr. Dimer, a kind, older gentleman who sold you your newspapers every day.

“Right on time, y/n,” he grinned. “I can always count on you for that.” 

“I’d never be late for you, Mr. Dimer,” you smirked. 

“And you can always count on me to make sure you all start your day on a full stomach,” he said, pulling out a basket of apples from behind the counter and setting them in front of you. “Pass these out, kid.” 

“Mr. Dimer, you really didn’t have to…” you say, though you knew the old man would always buy you and the other newsies whatever you needed. 

“Take them, I insist!” he told you with a smile. 

“Thank you,” you said, nodding your head and taking the basket. You instructed the other newsies to start handing them out while you fished in your pocket for some coins. You set a few on the counter, “I’ll take five stacks please.” 

He took the coins and gave you five bundles of newspapers but you noticed a sad look in his eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

“What’s the matter, eh?” you asked him quietly, leaning in so that the others couldn’t hear you. 

“I’m not supposed to say anything, but you know I love you kids. I just can’t keep anything from you,” he told you. 

“What’s the problem? Whatever it is, we can fix it. It’ll be fine,” I assured us both. 

“I’m sure you heard about it by now, kid, but since the strike, tons of newspaper companies are getting taken over by The New York World and-”

“What are you saying? Gramercy’s getting taken over by them too? We’ll still be okay though, right?”

“I’m afraid this would mean the end of the Gramercy Gazette,” he told you solemnly. 

“What…?” was all that came out. Your mind became overloaded with concern. “What does that mean for us?” 

“Well, on the bright side, you kids will have it easy. You just need to get a job in a different borough. Say, I know a couple a guys in Brooklyn! We could help set ya up there in no time,” Mr. Dimer suggested. 

“I don’t wanna go to Brooklyn, I wanna stay here,” you told him, sternly. 

“You can stay here but you’ll be out of work with the GG. Your best bet is to get on the good side of the leader of a different borough and try to get everyone to transfer with you,” he sighed. “I’m so sorry, kid. I know how much this job means to you.”  

You sighed, thinking of how hard you had all worked for the GG. Surely this couldn’t be the fault of you and your newsies. You and the others worked so hard and you were certain you did well at your job. This had to be a problem with the higher ups. 

“How long do we have left here? How long until Gramercy is shut down?” you asked.

Mr. Dimer, look away from you, not wanting to meet your gaze, “You have until the end of this week.” 

Author's Note:

If you made it this far, I want to thank you!! I'm going to be completely honest, this part will probably be the most boring of all of them but I needed to set the story up somehow for my own sanity lol. I gotta get my ducks in a row when I'm writing ya know? Anyway, I will hopefully update soon so I hope you stick around or maybe you would rather come back in a little while after the fic is complete. It's all the same to me. Thanks again and I'll talk to you in the next one! :)

Something to Believe In: Prologue Part Two

Pairing: n/a, this section will just be a backstory for newsie!reader.

Prompt: Newsies inspired Seventeen fic

Warnings: Violence and bullying.

Release Date: September 19, 2024

Summary:

You find yourself out of work and are looking to secure a new job working as a newsie for the largest newspaper printing company in the city: The New York World. Daunting as that might be, you head to Newsies Square early to beat the other newsies to the stand to buy papes and hopefully impress them. However, luck is not on your side and your day ends up quite differently than you planned...

Prologue Part Two: Welcome to Newsies Square

You tread across the cobblestone path as you clung to a small bag thrown over your shoulder. In it, a collection of your personal belongings that you decided to take with you. The rest, you’d given to the other newsies who seemed to need it more than you. An old slingshot that you enjoyed when you were younger but no longer found use of, you’d given to your youngest, hoping she’d enjoy it just as much as you had. A couple of articles of clothing that no longer fit you, you’d given to some of the others who were a bit smaller than you, and they’d repurposed their old clothes to those who were smaller than them too. It was something you’d always instructed everyone to do, to make the best use of your resources, but it was especially important now that you wouldn’t have each other to rely on anymore. 

You ensured everyone found a new job before the GG was shut down, whether that was as a newsie working for a different company, in a factory, as a shoe shiner, or something else of that nature. You needed to make sure your people were safe and taken care of. So much so that you’d barely thought about yourself. You’d saved up enough money to survive a couple of weeks on your own but you didn’t want to spend those weeks by yourself on the streets. You needed to find work fast which is why you found yourself in this particular part of town, staring up at The New York World Building. 

It was the tallest of a couple of structures that were responsible for writing and printing the most popular selling newspaper in the whole city. If you had your choice, you’d love to take a shot at writing for them, but you know they’d never let you with your lack of experience. You’d never written like that for anything. You’d only ever written short stories in a journal you kept, occasionally reading them to the younger newsies as bedtime stories. Though you lacked experience, your stories had gotten good reviews, even from a couple of the older ones who swore they were only listening because it was impossible to turn off their ears. 

The place you stood in now was entirely different from Gramercy. You were only used to your small group, your tight knit family who hardly left your side. Gramercy was quiet, full of trees and nature; your little peaceful oasis away from the rest of the city. Now you were surrounded by skyscrapers and you felt an unmatched energy all around. You could picture these streets during the day, flooded with newsies, as they would be within the hour, you were sure. However, you’d gotten there early, before anyone else in fact. You knew with there being so many newsies living around these parts that it was the only way you could make your coin for the day. 

You managed to find the window where the papes for The World were sold and were greeted with a middle aged man who flashed you a smile. He smoked a cigar as he counted a couple stacks of coins before him. 

“Tough morning, kid?” he asked, looking you over. 

“Not particularly…” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows and fishing in your pocket for your coins. “I’ll take five stacks of papes.” 

“We don’t got five stacks,” he told you, taking a puff on his cigar. 

“How long until you get the papes for the day?” you asked, not wanting to be caught up here for the whole morning. Surely The World was just finishing up their printing for the morning and the papes would be released any moment. No one could afford being late in this business. If the papes weren’t released to the newsies at first light, then the newsies wouldn’t be able to sell them to anyone on their way to work, and The World wouldn’t make any money. And one thing was for sure, you were never late. 

“You’re about an hour too late,” he told you. 

You stared at him in disbelief. You had gotten up extra early that morning so you could be certain you would get to the news stand before everyone else. You knew you needed to buy my papes and beat them to the streets so you could make your keep today and prove to the Manhattan newsies that you would make a good addition to the team. Now that plan was ruined but there was still plenty of the day left to make decent coin. 

“I’ll take whatever you have left,” you told the man. He promptly slammed one stack of papes on the counter and you sighed. Then you paid him and left the news stand. 

You made your way out of Newsie Square and took to the streets of the city, taking a quick look at the headline at the top of the news. It was another political story, which luckily everyone wanted to read about. You quickly thought of a much more interesting headline than the one that was written and began shouting “Political Brawl in Queens!” to try to catch the attention of anyone passing by. You managed to catch the attention of a couple individuals, selling them papes and moving on down the street. 

As you continued shouting, you were approached by two younger gentlemen, both dressed in matching bowler hats. 

“You look lost, kid,” one of them said to you with a snide smirk on his face. 

You looked up at them. You were not in the mood to play games with men like this. “Do you boys wanna buy papes or can I be on my way?” 

“Don’t you newsies usually travel together? Ya know, to keep each other out of trouble?” the other man said, crossing his arms. 

“And to protect the weaklings…” the first man frowned, mocking a pout. “Just in case something like this happens!” 

Suddenly, he slapped the stack of newspapers you were carrying out of your hands and onto the ground. And of course with your luck, they landed scattered across a mud puddle. The two men laughed and you glared at them. 

“What are you going to do? Cry about it?” the second one cackled. 

You needed to escape these schmucks as soon as possible and you knew what you needed to do. While the one man was cackling you stamped as hard as you could on his foot. He screamed in agony and awkwardly hopped away on one foot. As the other man approached you, you spit directly in his face as a diversion and started running in the opposite direction. 

However, as soon as you turned around you ran face first into someone’s chest. The force knocked you back onto the ground and you landed right in the mud, with the two men not far behind you now. 

“Are you alright?” 

Whoever you had just bumped full force into extended a hand in your direction. When you looked up, you saw a young man, dark eyebrows furrowed with concern. He wore a white tank top that clung tightly to his skin, leaving his arms out on full display. His tan trousers hugged his thighs and were held up by a pair of suspenders. And atop his dark hair sat a tan newsie cap. A couple of other young men stood behind him, their outfits similar to his. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, taking his hand and allowing you to pull him up with ease. 

“Good,” he said, then he stepped to the side to face the two men who had been bothering you. “Well if it isn’t the Delancey Brothers. I knew I smelled an unpleasant aroma. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you boys to leave my newsies alone.” 

“Well your newsie was sellin’ us a fake headline,” one of the men said, glaring at you. 

The newsie looked at you. “Is that true?” 

“‘Course not. I only glorify the headline, like every other newsie. I don’t make up entirely new stories,” you told him. 

“Ya heard it here boys. Us newsies only speak the truth! Now why don’t you go and find a real job instead of botherin’ us folks? Must be hard for you now that everyone knows you got fired from The World,” the newsie said with a smirk. 

One of the men suddenly pushed the newsie back a few steps but he held his ground. He was much bigger than both of the men. 

The newsie chuckled, “C’mon Oscar, is that really the best you’ve got?” 

The man, Oscar, came at the newsie again, but this time he was prepared. He sidestepped and Oscar flew forward, losing his balance. On his way toward you, you managed to trip him and he fell onto the ground, face first into the mud. 

The other man swung at the newsie but he caught his hand, skillfully twisting his arm behind his back and locking him in place. 

“If I ever find you messing with my newsies again, there will be no place in this entire city where you’ll be able to show your face again and not end up with it unrecognizably smashed into the pavement. Have I made myself clear?” the newsie growled at them. 

After confirming that they understood, he let both of them go, watching as they did, making sure they didn’t come back. You finally got a chance to clearly observe all of the newsies before you. These were the newsies from the center of the Manhattan borough. They were tough, there’s no doubt about that, but not nearly as tough as the Brooklyn newsies. It’s safe to say that everyone felt a little uneasy when it came to the Brooklyn newsies. But you knew these Manhattan newsies were no joke either. These were the ones who were responsible for the start of the strike about a month ago now. These were the ones who took charge and created their own union, demanding fair working conditions from the chief editor and publisher of The World: Joseph Pulitzer. It’s thanks to these newsies in particular that all of us have those fair working conditions now and it’s thanks to them that we’re not just looked over as if we were scum. All newsies owe it to them, which is why you felt a bit anxious standing there as they all perceived you. 

“I was doing just fine on my own-” you began turning to face the newsie who was seemingly the leader of their group. 

“Fine, I’ll watch the Delancey Brothers ruin your pretty mug next time,” he spat. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” you said to him, deciding to disregard the fact that he just called you ‘pretty.’ “I was doing just fine on my own but I’m glad you were there to help me stop them. And don’t let that get to your head.” 

“Too late,” you heard one of the other newsies call out, though you weren’t sure which one. 

“They call me Coups… Leader of the Manhattan borough.” 

“I’m y/n, leader of- Well I used to be the leader of the Gramercy Newsies. We just got shut down a few days ago which is how I found myself here,” you explained. 

“So now you wanna work for The World?”

“Listen, I loved working for a company like the Gramercy Gazette but I can’t take that chance anymore with all these smaller companies getting shut down,” you told him. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Shoot.” 

“Why be a newsie?” Coups asked. “There’s plenty of other jobs in the city. Prob’ly better payin’ ones too. Why spend your time sellin’ papes?” 

You’d never thought about it before. You just did the job because that’s all you’d ever done. Of course you’d grown to love what you do… but why? 

“I suppose… I suppose it’s ‘cause I like stories. I like to know what’s going on in the world and I like reading about it. I think there’s a lot to learn from reading the news, and reading in general. Everyone deserves to know what’s going on in the world and everyone should stay updated when it comes to the news. Not saying the news is completely factual, but staying updated on the news unifies the world a little by little each day. It brings us together. And I like to be one of the many people helping to get that news out there.” 

Coups looked you up and down, then looked around as the other Manhattan newsies. 

“I like that answer, y/n. It will be good to have someone like you on the team who cares about this job as much as the rest of us do,” Coups smiled at you. “Now why don’t you stick with us for the rest of the day. I’m sure you could use a couple people on your side right about now.” 

He raised his hand to his mouth, spit in it, and offered a handshake. 

“Friends?” 

You hesitated but after he assured you that “it’s just business,” you did the same, spitting in your hand and shaking his. 

Author's Note:

Okay part 2 is finally done and thank you for reading it! I think this part of the story was a lot more interesting than part 1 and it's only going to get more interesting from here. Finally some of the boys have been introduced AND Scoups got in a little fight for you hehe. Can you tell I'm blushing through the screen? Of course I had to include the Delancey Brothers and if you're a Newsies fan you'll get it! I should be getting out part 3 a lot faster than I got out part 2; my life has been a little crazy over these past few weeks. Hopefully you'll stick around to see where this story goes! Thanks again and I'll see ya in the next one! :)