Seventeen X You - Tumblr Posts

I think I'll finish the boyfriend pictures series soon. What kind of series should I do next? Do you have something in your mind?

❁ pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, vernon

More of the boyfriend pictures series

❁ pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, chan

More of the boyfriend pictures series

❁ pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, soonyoung

More of the boyfriend pictures series

𝓪 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓲𝓷 𝓪 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

If I touch ɑ burning cɑndle,

I cɑn feel no pɑin ๋࣭ ⭑

★Videocall with your long-distance boyfriend, Mingyu

Choi Seungcheol layout⭑

★Videocall with your long-distance boyfriend, Wonwoo

a wig and tie.

— minghao x afab!reader

— fluff and angst. LOADS of fluff and loads of angst. but it's super cute you'll like it, I think.

— contents : arrange marriage, complicated relationship with parents, chaebol au, afab reader, unclear endings.

The view of the moon shining over the glassy water looked as if it was was straight out of a movie scene. The clear sky with just a couple of clouds surrounding the large full moon, to give it a theatrical effect.

Y/n just wished her life was also straight out of a one and half hour rom-com, that ends with everyone being happy.

She leans off the edge and starts to make her way towards the bench situated at the middle of the balcony, tucking her hands under her thighs to warm them up and hide them from the chilly november air.

A tear drop tickles her cheek and she nudges one of her shoulders up to wipe it away. "ah— fuck" she whispered, the sequence in her dress had snagged her skin and left a scratch mark.

Y/n sighs, a heavy breath escaping her lips. She could still hear the music faintly coming from a couple floors below her. The reception party was still going strongly even without the presence of the bride or the groom. Her reception party. She was the bride.

The groom. She heard him enter their suite a couple minutes after her. She heard his steps follow her to the balcony, and for a minute she was afraid he would join her, but then she heard him walk away and small thud of the bathroom door closing. He hasn't left the room since.

Another gust of wind passed her, and she felt her scalp start to itch from being trapped under the stupid wig all day. She brought her hands to press against her eyes to stop another round of tears from escaping.

"You need to stop rebelling against things, it is not proving anything, just making me angry." She said, pacing infront of me and trying to control her voice from reaching a loud volume.

The hair dresser did not pay any attention to her and continued her process to cover my short hair so that it would look presentable for my wedding.

I bit my teeth to stop myself from screaming. "I did not cut my hair for your reaction, my dear mother." I said, trying my best to sound nice and obedient, "I did it for me—"

"THAT." she faked a cough while I recovered from my flinch caused by her loud voice, "That. is. not. the point." She said. Her body was shaking from anger. "I expect you to look presentable and traditional. Short hair in not traditional." Her nose touched the air.

I bit my tongue and decided to lose this round. It's not like she would ever listen to me anyways.

Y/n roughly ran her finger nails all over her scalp to loosen the wig glue and disrupt it from its perfect placement. She felt anger coursing through her veins and her blood felt hot and bothered. I hate her. She thought.

I hate the way she raised me. I hate the way she forced me into marriage. I hate the way she hates my hair. I hate the way talks about my body. I hate the way she loves me.

A sob escapes her lips. She leaned back against the bench and looked at the moon again. It had witnessed everything, and it was still shining brighter than ever. That made her wipe all her tears away and pull her legs up to sit criss cross on the bench.

She knew that she had to go to bed soon. She would have to face her husband, and she would have to talk to him. Sooner or later she would have to meet him.

Suddenly she heard the bench next to her squeak with another person's body. She turns, "Minghao..?" She whispers in surprise. How did she not hear his footsteps?

Minghao does not look at her. He continues to stare at the moon. Y/n smiled in relief and turned back to the moon too. Atleast he wasn't speaking to her right now. She did not have the mental strength to converse with him right now.

"Y/n." He spoke, and every bone of relief from her body jumped off the roof. "This is the first time I've been to a party for the bride, without the bride" he chuckled.

She turns to him and raises a brow. He had a smirk playing lazily on his face. "The party is yours just as much as its mine," she said.

Something unknown flashes on his eyes, but before she could investigate he closes them and laughs loudly. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat.

"Touchè, Ms Xu" he said with a lovely smile on his face. "Are you not tired?" He asked.

She turns away from him and faces the moon. "I do not want to share a bed with you" y/n replied, she was proud of herself for not expressing any of her emotions in her voice.

Minghao presses a hand on his heart. "Ouch, that hurt." He said in a dramatized manner. Y/n rolled her eyes and stands up to leave the balcony, but he is quick to grab her hand "I'm kidding. Do you really think I would force a girl I just met to sleep in the same bed as me?"

When y/n doesnt answer, Minghao presses his lips in a straight line and stands up. "I know what your mother expects you to do tonight." He said, and for the first time that entire day, he was serious. "I need you to know that I don't have any of those expectations" his eyes searched her face for any sort of emotion, when he didn't find any he sighed in defeat.

He gently dropped her hand, "Please come to bed and get your rest, it's been a long day for you" he says and then turns to walk away.

Minghao makes it to two steps before his wife grabs his wrist. "Wait." She voiced.

He turns around to face her, his brows raised in surprise. Y/n's face was unreadable, but her eyebrows were furrowed. She took a step closer to minghao and starts to fiddle with his tie. He watches her is slight awe as she smoothly took off the accessory and threw it on the bench.

"You look better without that wretched thing choking your head off" she said, when his lips would not move to form the question why?.

She saw me he thought.

"You are receiving the name, the title, the status, the money and you still do not understand the importance of this union? Tell me son, do you care for me at all" father asked, throwing his arms in the air very excessively.

"Oh please stop with the melodramatic outbursts dad." I rolled my eyes. "I already have everything" I said while making exaggerated hand gestures.

"This girl your setting me up with, does she even know whe she is getting into? Does she know she is basically being sold—"

"DON'T" father yelled. He stops and forces himself to take in a deep breath and stabilize his volume. "Don't you dare" he said in an appropriate volume but a fuming red face.

My face did not betray any of my emotions. And my father took that the wrong way. He pressed his fingers to his forehead and walks away towards the corner of the room. "I can not talk to him, my dear." He whispered in a defeated voice.

My mother leaned off the corner wall and stalked towards me in calculated steps. On her way she picks up the boring black tie that was to be tied around my neck to make me look like a ceremonial sacrifice.

She silently stood infront of me and tied a complicated knot. When it came to lightning the knot she made sure to push it up all the way and remove a strangled sound from my throat.

I looked at her in shock and a little bit of fear. She holds my gaze and harshly pushes me back on the couch. "You will not loosen that tie. You will walk out of this room and feel it clog up you throat and remember how it's a punishment for dishonouring your family." She said in a simple monotonous voice.

She turns around and grabs her waiting husbands arm, " one day you will understand that I am doing this for your own good, minghao" she said to me over her shoulder, and then she left the room.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a small shadow move away from the window, I just hopes the shadow made it out before my parents.

"It was you" Minghao whispered, half stunned and half relieved.

Y/n gives him an apologetic look and tilts her head to the side. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop" she said, "I was just trying to hide"

Minghao laughs lightly, "I get that, and it's okay I forgive you" he smiles at her. Then his eyes have that mischievous look again. Y/n furrows her eyebrows suspiciously and he says, "since we are all coming clean and I think I have to say something," he said with a million dollar smile.

"Um okay, what is it?" She asked with shrug. Minghao doesn't answer immediately, he grabs her hands and pulls her towards the bedroom. He stops her infront of a large mirror and held her gaze in the mirror.

Y/n looked confused, and slightly concerned. She flinched lightly when she saw minghao lift his hand to her head. He pauses and says, "it's your hair. I promise I'm just gonna touch your hair"

Minghao waited for her nod of approval before he continued his feather light touch to remove the wig and undo all the bobby pins and other nonsense that held her real and shorter hair back.

As means of protest, y/n had box dyed her hair red and cut it just above her shoulder at home, precisely a day before her wedding. She smiled at the memory of her mother screaming when she found out.

When she felt minghao's fingers glide through her hair she sighed out contently and close her eyes. For the first time that day she felt safe, and relaxed.

Minghao blushed light at her sound. He clears his head and softly pats her when he's done. He smiles at her through the mirror and leans down to her ear and whispers, "you look cuter with your short hair"

Y/n was thankful for her makeup, it was doing a very good job at hiding her reaction to his words. She turns around to face him. "I get it, okay? we are both nosy" she rolled her eyes with soft smile, "You peeked into my conversation and I peeked into yours."

Minghao laughs lightly and walks back to sit on the edge of the bed. Y/n turns around and leans against the vanity table, her arms folded across her chest.

"So, who gets the bed cause i call dibs..." she starts to say but her voice falters away when she saw that minghao was already picking up his belongings and walking towards the door.

"Don't worry about it," he said, giving her a quick look. She couldnt catch the look in his eye since his face was only partially seen but something seemed off.

"I booked a second room, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He says, but doesn't wait for her to respond and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Y/n felt a strange feeling course through her body. Something that felt an awful lot like rejection. She turned back towards the mirror and looked at herself.

I'm so stupid. She thought, as she proceeds to remove her jewelery, I let my gaurd down infront of him.

He didn't actually care about her, why would he? They had just met. He just didn't want his wife to be a sad moping mess for the public. He couldn't mess up his image, he had a reputation to uphold.

Y/n went to sleep that night with a growing feeling of resentment. He made me look like a fool. She thought, and she had never felt that embarrassed before.

Maybe it was the betrayal she felt, or just the sour mood that accompanied her since the wedding, but by the next morning, the wig was back on.

cupcakes and kisses.

— mingyu x gn!reader

— fluff without plot and soooo self indulgent it's crazy

— contents : established relationship, kissing, sexual tension, kissing, suggestive content, kissing, baking, did I mention kissing

"Thank you for your purchase I hope you have a good night!" the cashier wishes while giving you your pack of rainbow sprinkles.

you smiled at her and walked out into the streets so that you could make yourself back home. the sun was just setting in, and people every where were rushing back. you were in no hurry though, your apartment was just down the block and your boyfriend was still busy whipping up some vanilla frosting.

thats why you came out in the first place, he was making cupcakes for movie night, but ran out of sprinkles for the funfetti frosting. and you, being his little minion helper, volunteered to get him some.

you were an amazing cook when it came to breakfast or brunch, but baking on the other hand, hah. baking was completely out of your expertise.

you once tried to make cookies, but they neither spread nor softened and came out as rocks. they were so inedible that even the ants wouldn't touch them. you remember getting rid of them by chucking them at your brother whenever he annoyed you.

when you finally reach your apartment, your boyfriend calls put your name, and you quickly change into your home slippers and run towards him.

"I'm here I'm here" you said, sprinting towards him with a large smile on your face. mingyu smiles back at you but doesn’t stop his mixer-blender-thing from working, "did you get the sprinkles?" he asked, his head tilting to the side in a very cute manner.

you raise the pack of sprinkles and wiggle it a little to show off your excitement. mingyu lifts one of his hands up, like a gate, and you immediately step inbetween them, successfully trapping yourself in his arms.

he turns the mixer-blender-thing off and plops his head on your shoulder, watching you tear off the packet with your teeth and pour a generous amount of sprinkles in the bowl.

mingyu had a habit. his friends would always tease him about it, but honestly he found it quite cute. It was not his fault he found everything you did so endearing that he just had to stare at you as if you were hanging the stars on the sky.

it was not his fault you were so pretty to look at, with your perfect lips and perfect eyes. or the way you looked the best when you were busy. it wasn't his fault.

you found that staring habit of his cute too. but that's probably because you did the exact same thing. but were you really to blame when everything mingyu did was absolutely perfect. especially when he baked, his concentration and attention to detail always made you proud. so it most definitely wasn't you fault either.

when you were done pouring out your sprinkles, you hummed contently and waited for him to start the blender again. but he doesn't move. you look up at him with a raised eyebrow, "something wrong, babe?" you asked, worry flashing in your eyes.

you expected him to come out of his trance, but he just shakes his head side to side, with the same look in his eyes. then he thinks for a moment before his lips moved into a tiny smile and he nods his head, "yes" he said, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

mingyu let's go of the hand blender and grabs your waist to turn you around to face him. you give him a curious look and he just winks at you. then he turns you both around and picks you up on the kitchen island behind him.

he buries his head in your neck and trails sweet kisses all the way up to your ear. you wrap one hand around his waist and the other around his neck, your fingers playing with his hair, and you giggled whenever his kisses would tickle you.

this was normal, mingyu always kissed you every chance he got. but he always bothered to make up a stupid excuse before it, which is exactly what lead you to ask, "why so touchy, baby?"

"need to kiss my pretty baby" he said casually, as if he did this every day (he did). you laughed and let him place strategic kisses in all the right places. your forehead, the space between eyebrows, both your cheeks, and every single mole on your face.

when he finally reached your lips, you cup his cheeks. he leaned in to ever so slightly brush your lips, he releases a breath and pulls away kissing the corner of you mouth instead, you feel your heart grip itself.

he pulls away and smirks when he sees the shiver, he caused, go down your spine. "so needy for my kisses, yeah?" he asked, a smug grin taking over his smile.

you hadn't realised that the tension had caused your hands to slips down to his chest and hold his favorite jumper in a fist. you pulled him closer towards you, "need you to kiss me gyu, please" you begged.

mingyu could never deny you, and he knew that you knew that and used it against him very often, but he still chuckles at your tactics and leans in you press his lips against your in a big fat kiss.

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull yourself closer towards the edge of the counter so that you could feel him better. you wouldn't let his pulls away from you that easily again.

mingyu smiles into the kiss when he feel your clutch on his jumper. he loved teasing you, but he loved this more. the way your possessiveness would peek out and you would be less reluctant to let him go.

mingyu lays his hands flats against the counter so that he could kiss you better, and feel you closer. you hands were crossed around his neck.

his mouth moved in perfect sync with yours and you were sure you could die like this, with him kissing you absolutely senseless.

he pulls away from you for a second and look down at your eyes, you were both panting. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and leans back in— DING.

both of your heads turn towards the little potato shaped timer kept above the oven. "aw the cupcakes are done" mingyu said sadly, his lips forming a small pout. you rolled you eyes and pushed his hands off you. you cupped his cheeks and turned his head to look at you. "so why are you pouting?" you asked, laughing softly at his cute little sad face.

"wanna kiss you a little longer" he said, speaking in pout while trying to tuck himself back in between your legs. you made sure to keep them shut.

you press a small kiss on his cheek, "we'll kiss later I promise. for now lets finish those cupcakes, yeah? " you said while jumping off the counter and walking towards the oven to take out the cupcakes. you make sure to grab mingyu's hand on the way so that he would follow you.

mingyu takes the opportunity hug you from behind and follow you like a dumb puppy. he breaths in your hair and smiles againt your neck, "I love the way you smell" he said.

you snorted, "that's not creepy at all."

"hey I'm not creepy I just liked the way the love of my life smells okay?" he pouts again, this time angrily.

you laughed again and turned around in his arms to face him. "thank you baby" you said sincerely, then got on your tippy toes to kiss him, "I love you too" you said.

mingyu felt the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. he was pretty sure the cupcakes would burn if he didn't turn off the oven soon, but who cares? he was kissing the smartest, the most beautiful person alive. for him, it really was you who hung the stars in the sky.

a pool of hidden love.

— dino x gn! reader

— fluff with tiny tiny plot

— best friends to lovers, kissing, smoking, unpromped confessions, chan and y/n are both kinda stupid tbh, marriage talk, cute cute stuff, and like 1 joshua mention.

"wanna hang out at the pool tonight?" chan asked, after puffing out a wad of smoke and twirling the cigarette in his fingers. I grabbed it from his hand and press it in between my lips, inhaling a good amount of that toxic poison in my body.

when we were younger, chan and I came across the huge abandoned pool in the middle of the forest next to our home town. apparantly a drowning incident caused the pool to close down, but before they could tear it down the owner died and the property came under the government. no one really visited it so we decided to keep the spot as our own.

chan and I had to go to different states for college, we could only meet during the holidays. every time we would meet we would sneak out and meet up at the pool.

the pool was completely empty and dry, but overtime we managed to make it comfy by adding in a mattress, blankets, a mini fridge full of snacks, an internet cabel, and a nice little roof made out of cardboard boxes and a whole lot of water proof tape to protect us from the rain.

on nights with particularly good weather, we would open up a part of the cardboard roof, and stare into the sky's beautiful paintings, we would point at and try to recognize as many constellations as we could and then fall asleep in each other's arms.

"not tonight, we have our friends pre wedding thing tomorrow morning remember?" I said, laying my head back on his stomach, my legs were propped up against the wall. I hand him the blunt and wait for him to take it.

chan groans out loud and uses my pillow to cover his face so that he could scream into it. then he grabs it from my hand. "why is everyone getting married so quickly?" he asked in the middle of blowing out, "it's so annoying."

"I think it's cute" I said, tapping my foot on the wall. I felt chan lift his head up to side eye me, "cute? you find marriages cute?" he raised an eyebrow judgementally. then he laughs and says "oh jisoo your so cute, our love is so cute, let's get married" in a high pitched mocking voice.

I punch his chest and he starts coughing, "shut up asshole" I rolled my eyes. "they've been dating since eighth grade it makes perfect sense for them to get married at twenty four."

chan laughs but nods his head in agreement. the cigarette had almost died out by the time we both fell silent. he holds it above my lips so that I could take the final blow. when I'm finally done the extinguishes it on a platter on my bedside table.

the silence streches out for awhile before chan breaks it by asking "do you ever think we would get married?"

I lift a brow in confusion, "like, to each other?" I asked sitting up on my bed so that I could face him, chan does the same and leans against the head board. "no silly, I meant in general" he said, then he lifts his head to a side and adds, "though it's not really a bad idea, is it?"

"getting married, to each other?" I pointed between us. I scoffed and fixed him with a pointed glare, "channie are you high?"

he rolled his eyes, "we shared one joint." he said in an unimpressed tone. I shrug my shoulders, "sorry but I am not the one suggesting we get married"

"didn't say we should get married today" he let's out in an exasperated voice, "we have chemistry, and be honest there is no way you don't like me back" he adds defensively.

I crawl my way to sit beside chan and hand him the soda can he had brought up from the kitchen awhile ago. when he takes a sip and let's out a satisfied sigh, I shove him to get his attention, "ofcourse we have chemistry, we're best friends," I said, "by your logic our moms would have some very serious explaining to do."

chan rolls his eyes and snorts, "oh yeah sure, our moms most definitely want to marry each other."

"chan!"

"how devastated do you think our daddies will be?" he asked while laughing at me.

I punch his arms, "for a person who just confessed to his long time best friend, you seem awfully well" I said. chan freezes as a wave of realisation crashes over him, "fuck" he cursed, while a sweet blush covers his cheeks.

I laughed softly and let him revel in his embarrassment for a little while. "I— I didn't say I like like you." he mumbled, avoiding my eyes and I felt a smirk crawl up my lip.

"relax chan, I don't think it's a bad idea" I said, grabbing the magazine from the foot of my bed and opening it to continue reading from where I last stopped.

I felt chan freeze beside me, "you don't think it's a bad idea?" he asked, genuine confusion clouding his features.

I shrugged my shoulder to feign nonchalance. "your a great guy, an we make a greater team. why shouldn't we get married?" I said, the words on the page mocking me by not letting me understand what they meant.

chan pushes his hand on the magazine and catches my attention with his voice, and a hooked finger lifting my chin to hold eye contact, "wait hold on, are you proposing?" he asked with the same smugness I was feeling a minute earlier (and am lacking in now).

a sudden wave of shyness hits me but I refused to acknowledge it, "no— no way." I said, turning my head away from his piercing gaze, "you did it first" I said in an exasperated voice as if I was a child being accused of doing something only after I saw someone else do it.

chan looked taken aback for a second, then he shakes his head lightly as if to throw away all the useless doubts "I'm gonna kiss you" he said, holding the sides of my neck, "and I want you to slap me very hard if you don't want me to" he said.

as if in hell I would do that.

I don't wait for him to lean down and just reach up myself to meet his plush lips. he almost pull back in surprise but I grab onto his shirt and pull him close to me.

he gives in and melts into the kiss, giving me every suppressed feeling and every fluttering emotion he kept hidden for I dont know how long. when he finally pulled back he rests his head on my shoulder and pants.

when he pulls back theres a wide grin on his face and he laughs. he stops for a moment to think, the grin never leaving, then he falls on the bed and starts laughing again.

I raised my eyebrow at his maniacal behavior, "did i kiss you dumb or what" I asked, resting my hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

chan rolls his eyes but smiles anyways, "I was right," he sings, "our moms do have some explaining to do!"

kiss me better.

— vernon x gn!reader

— fluff cause let's face it im obsessed

— contents : established relationship, vernon being cute w kids, kisses, vernon gives reader a hickey so I need the - 18 to stay away ok, sorta suggestive, nicknames (vernon; sollie, sol, baby, nonnie. reader; sweetheart, pretty)

"Does it hurt a lot?" hansol asked your neice in a soft comforting voice, standing on his knees so that he could match her height.

she nods her head and let's out a tiny sniffle, hansol coos at her and pulls her into his arms so that she could cry into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry baby I wish I could help you" he said, rubbing her back to calm her down.

you smile at them from the doorway. hansol always got along with your neice so well, it took you years to win her over and still all you two do is squabble (yes you fight with a seven years and yes you lose more often than not.) for him it was as easy as turning a page.

if it weren't for the fact that you loved him with every corner of your heart you would probably be jealous of their relationship.

when her cries quite down hansol slowly pulled her away and held onto her arms, "do you wanna know a secret?" he asked, she pouts and brings a hand up to wipe her nose while nodding her head slowly, "mhm" she hummed.

hansol pulls her next to him so that he could whisper directly into her ear, "my mom used to say that candies and kisses are best for hurts" he whispered scandalously. then he pulls out a snickers bar and hands it to her.

the chocolate bar automatically makes her smile, and when she raises her hands to take it from your boyfriend's hand, he presses a quick and soft kiss on top of the bandaid resting on her finger, causing her to let out a fit of giggles.

your girl catches a glimpse of you in the doorway and she immediately let's out the sweetest laugh and runs towards you, "look at what sollie got me," she said waving the chocolate in your face. you lean down to her height and make a show of groaning with jealousy and pout at her. "not fair, sol keeps giving you chocolates and keeps forgetting about me"

your neice sticks out her tongue and turns around to run back to vernon. she hands him the chocolate and like a routine he starts to unwrap it for her while she continues to babble with you.

"it's so totally fair," she says stubbornly.

you walk towards your bed and lay on your stomach while facing the other two sitting on the ground. "and how is that?" you asked, mimicking her stubbornness

"sollie keeps giving you kisses and forgets about me" she said.

vernon coughs and turns around to catch your stunned and wide eyes. your smiling though, and watch as the sweet little girl continues to say in a thoughtful voice, "and I have never complained about that !! but you complain about not getting chocolates all the time, so really its not fair for me"

you shake your head in a little bit of shock and a little bit of amazement. "how's your hand feeling, drama queen?" you prompted, knowing she would fall into your trap.

she gasps loudly and let's out in an offended voice, "I am not a drama queen !! ugh whatever I'm leaving," she said, biting into her snickers and walking away, you and vernon watch her waddle towards your rooms doorway. right before she leaves she turns around and gives you a stink eye, "I know when I'm not appreciated." and she closes the door on her way out.

you let out a slightly amazed scoff, every time you babysat her you saw this new side of her that made you realise she was no longer a baby, she was growing so quickly you were almost certain she was an anomaly or something.

"everything okay?" hansol asked, he had moved closer to the bed so that he could talk to you properly (and maybe steal a kiss or two.) the position made you taller than him, so you had tilt your head down a little to talk to him. "everythings perfect" you said, smiling at him.

"can I ask you something?" he asked, a mischievous smile taking over his face.

you narrowed your eyes and looked at him very suspiciously, causing him to break out into his heart smile. and boom goes your suspicion. damn his perfect smile that made you melt into a literal puddle.

"anything you want, baby" you said.

he pulls himself up even closer to the bed and smiles at you. "I got hurt," he said, pouting his lips, "on my lips. need you to kiss it better"

now here's the thing, laughing was your coping mechanism, it was as if would protect you from cringing or trauma.

which was exactly why almost as soon as those words left his mouth hansol's shoulders scrunched up and he let's out a humiliated yell, covering his face with his hands, and you let out the loudest cackling laugh ever.

"dude what is wrong with you" you asked, laughing at his embarrassed face. you turn over on the bed and continued loudly laughing at him. "why would you do that I have literally never denied you a kiss," you added.

"I was trying to be romantic," you heard him whine.

you couldn't see hansol anymore because your laughing put you on your back, but you could hear some shuffling around the bed, and suddenly he was crawling his way on the bed towards you, automatically making you move backwards and into your pillows for safety.

you tried to muffle your laughter by pressing you lips into a thin line, causing vernon to have that annoyed smile on his face. "you think I'm funny, sweetheart?" he asked, whispering it very close to your ear as if he was telling you a secret. you violently shake your head side to side to tell him no. hansol scoffs, and my god does he look attractive while doing it.

your eyes fell to his lips and every detail of it amazed you, how was he so fucking gorgeous? they trailed further and further down his neck, the curve of his adam's apple, the dip the followed after, the v shaped collar bones that led your eyes straight down his— "eyes up here, pretty. I already know I'm irresistible" he said with the proudest smirk on his face.

his cockiness was starting to annoy you, so before he could open his mouth again you pull him down, your lips meet his and you kiss the fuck out of him.

hansol doesn't object in the slightest bit. one of his hands grabs onto the headboard behind you and the other one goes under your head, your hands were balling up his hoodie.

when he pulls away to rest his lungs, you smirk at him, "does it still hurt or do you need some candy too?"

hansol laughs. he kisses your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw, and then your neck, "some candy wouldn't hurt" he says in a breathy whisper, and then he nips, and then he bites.

you gasped, your body jumping and hitting against his. he licks you neck to soothe it before repeating the action and sucking lightly. your body arched up against him, and your fingers pull at his hair. "fuck, nonnie" you moaned.

the bastard fucking laughs into your neck.

when the spot turns a dark purple colour, hansol moves away and stares at his work, he gives himself a satisfied hod and then leans in again to kiss it.

you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "what the fuck are you doing" you asked in confusion. vernkn pulls back to look at you and shrug his shoulders, "kissing you better." he said.

you rolled your eyes at him and let out a laugh, "butyou gave me the hickey?" you said, confusion still flattering you features. vernon smirks as if he was the smartest boy ever and says, "yeah, now I have a reason to kiss you more, and you have a reason to eat more candies"

you think about how stupid your boyfriend is, and how badly you want to marry him.

7:50 pm - chs

genre: fluff & comfort - warnings: crying over spilled food lol [ a/n: i feel like vernon would drop spaghetti on your outfit by accident ]

there's a sting of disappointment in you as vernon leads you outside the restaurant. it doesn't linger any less when you enter the cool evening air.

"it's really not that bad," he tries to reassure you, his hand gentle on your shoulder. he pulls you away from the exit, trying to distract you from looking at your outfit.

"you're right," you mumble before peering at the bright red stain. "it's really bad."

vernon shakes his head and steps in front of you, using both his hands to make you gently face him. his leather jacket creaks slightly as he moves, the black material contrasting with his perfectly styled hair.

his dark eyes search yours, that apologetic look of his that makes your heartache. but the corners of his lips twitch as if he's trying to hold back a laugh.

"y/n, please," he says tenderly. "it's just spaghetti sauce."

"that is now stained in the fabric!" you bite your lips, tears welling up no matter how hard you try to hold them back. "i just wanted to look good for you." you whisper, your voice cracking.

vernon's eyes widened, a small smile tugging at his lips. seeing him, you can't help but feel your smile threaten through the pout.

"and you do," he says firmly, thumbs brushing against your cheeks, wiping away the stray tears.

you sigh. "no, vernon—"

"and a little spaghetti sauce isn't going to change that," he interrupts. "you looked pretty when you walked in, and you're still pretty when we walked out."

he faintly steps back, taking the sight of you under the soft glow of the moonlight, and knows he's fallen in love again. everything about you makes his heart swell, the way the light reflects on your skin and how your hair catches the breeze.

and here you are, on the verge of more tears and a spaghetti-stained outfit, yet you're still the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

"i think i just fell in love with you again," he blurts without thinking.

you blink, confused and a bit startled but it makes you forget about the stain. he shook his head again, quickly brushing off his spoken-out-loud inner thought.

"uh, babe, i'm really sorry about the spaghetti," vernon squeezes your hand, his thumb tracing patterns on your skin. "so, what do you say we forget about the spaghetti 'n walk around? get some ice cream?"

you nod, a small grin forming through your own tears. "y-yeah, okay," you agree. "you're paying for the dry cleaner, though." you say, hand tightening in his.

“fair enough,” he chuckles, leading you away.

shelter

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

prompt: im depressed bitch

word count: 1.6k~

warnings: depression. self neglect. some shitty depression talks thrown into a conversation. mentions of therapy. unproofread + lowercase intended. also everything from a little before the shower onward was written without glasses on so i can barely see my screen rn

daisy’s notes: i started this one back in late april. might as well finish it. ig wonwoo is one of my emotional support kpop men </3  /hj

“oh, jagi.”

there were little things that wonwoo grew used to in dating you. one of them came early into the relationship, an admission you made yourself once you felt like he wasn’t going to abandon you when you said it: you dealt with depression. even though you insisted that you could handle yourself, that it was genetics working against you because there was a history of it on both sides of your family, he pulled you into his arms long enough to give you a warm hug and to thank you for being honest with him. it didn’t change his opinion of you, and he said that outright: you were still his girlfriend that he cares for. but he became a little more aware, after that, of your moods. of when things started to change. he asked you about therapy, about medication, about what treatments you were going through: none, at the moment. you’d gone through plenty of things before, and nothing seemed to fully work. he left the discussion there on that day: he’d bring up therapy again, one day, but that was a future conversation to be had. pushing you would only make things work, and you seemed to be fine on your own for the time being.

and yet he noticed when it was getting bad as much as he could. he was busy, and he couldn’t always be around you, but he tried to check on you often. to ask if you’d eaten, to make sure you were taking care of yourself when your texts and calls became less frequent. he had made it a point to at least call you every night, even for a minute or two, just to hear your voice. if nothing else, he’d text you goodnight and promise to call in the morning.

Keep reading

TINY HANDS, BIG HEARTS

pairings. all seventeen members x female reader genre(s). pure fluff

summary. seventeen members meet their mini-me's and melt into fatherhood for the first time.

warnings. emotional, tenderness, detailed character reactions, lowercase intended, rewritten -- if i missed anything lmk!

choi seungcheol

as soon as you place your newborn in seungcheol’s arms, he’s instantly overwhelmed with joy. tears well up in his eyes, and he holds the baby close, his protective instincts immediately kicking in. “look at you,” he whispers, voice trembling with emotion. you’ve never seen him so vulnerable yet so strong at the same time. he cradles the baby gently, his large hands careful and tender. every few seconds, he glances at you, eyes filled with gratitude and love. seungcheol promises right then and there that he’ll protect and cherish your baby with all his heart. he’s in awe of this tiny life you both created, and the reality of being a father hits him in the best way possible.

yoon jeonghan

jeonghan can’t stop smiling as he gazes at your baby. he gently touches their tiny hands, marveling at how small and delicate they are. “hey there, little one,” he whispers sweetly, his voice soothing and gentle. he leans in closer, eyes filled with warmth and adoration. you can see how natural he is with the baby, as if he was born to be a father. every little movement or sound your baby makes brings a new wave of joy to his face. he’s in his element, already planning all the sweet moments and gentle guidance he’ll give as they grow. jeonghan’s heart is full, and it’s clear he’s ready to pour all his love into this new chapter of your lives.

hong jisoo

jisoo softly sings a lullaby to your newborn, his voice calm and melodic. as he holds the baby close, he gazes down with a look of pure love and pride. “you’re so precious,” he murmurs, a gentle smile playing on his lips. you can see the contentment in his eyes, knowing that he’s holding the best part of both of you. every note he sings seems to weave a spell of calm around your little family. jisoo is proud and content, feeling an immense sense of fulfillment. he’s already imagining the future filled with music and love, teaching your child the beauty of song and the importance of kindness. he’s never felt more complete.

wen junhui

junhui laughs with excitement the moment he sees your baby. he talks to them in a playful manner, his voice filled with energy and joy. “hey there, tiny one! i’m your dad,” he says, eyes twinkling with delight. he’s full of enthusiasm, his laughter infectious. every little coo or wiggle from your baby sends him into fits of giggles. junhui is already planning all the fun and playful moments he’ll share with them, from silly faces to playful games. his heart is bursting with happiness, and you can tell he’s going to be the kind of dad who fills your child’s life with endless joy and laughter.

kwon soonyoung

soonyoung beams with happiness as he holds your newborn. he can’t help but make playful faces to get them to smile, his affection evident in every gesture. “you’re my little star,” he coos, his grin wide and bright. his happiness is contagious, filling the room with warmth. soonyoung’s playful nature shines through, but there’s also a deep tenderness in the way he cradles your baby. he’s already imagining all the dance routines he’ll teach them, all the ways he’ll encourage their creativity and joy. his heart is full of love, and he’s ready to shower your child with all the affection and fun he has to give.

jeon wonwoo

wonwoo quietly admires your baby, a gentle smile playing on his lips. he holds them carefully, his touch light and tender. “you’re amazing,” he whispers, eyes filled with awe. you can see how deeply moved he is, his usual calm demeanor softened by this incredible moment. he’s content to just watch the baby’s tiny movements, memorizing every detail. wonwoo’s love is quiet but profound, and he’s ready to be the steady, reliable presence in your child’s life. he may not be the loudest or most expressive, but his love is deep and unwavering. he’s already planning all the ways he’ll support and nurture your baby as they grow.

lee jihoon

jihoon looks at your baby with awe, a mix of shyness and tenderness in his expression. he’s a bit hesitant at first, but as soon as he holds them, you can see the love in his eyes. “hello there,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. he’s incredibly gentle, as if afraid to disturb their peaceful sleep. jihoon’s heart swells with emotion, and he’s already thinking about all the lullabies and songs he’ll write for them. his shyness melts away as he starts to bond with your baby, his natural tenderness coming to the fore. he’s ready to be the most caring and dedicated father, pouring all his love into this tiny new life.

lee seokmin

seokmin is full of joy, his smile so wide it looks like it might split his face. he can’t stop grinning as he holds your baby, eyes sparkling with happiness. “you’re perfect,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. he sings softly to them, his voice a gentle lullaby. every note is filled with love, and you can see how deeply he’s already bonded with your child. seokmin’s joy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile along with him. he’s ready to be the most loving and joyful father, filling your baby’s life with music and laughter. his heart is so full, and he can’t wait to share every moment of this new journey with you.

kim mingyu

mingyu is very emotional as he holds your baby for the first time. tears well up in his eyes, and he can’t help but smile through them. “i can’t believe you’re here,” he whispers, his voice full of awe. he cradles the baby gently, his large hands surprisingly delicate. every little movement or sound from your baby brings a fresh wave of emotion. mingyu’s heart is overflowing with love, and he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll protect and care for your child. his emotions are raw and powerful, and he’s not afraid to show them. he’s ready to be the most dedicated and loving father, cherishing every moment with your baby.

xu minghao

minghao is calm and serene as he holds your baby, his touch gentle and reassuring. “hello, little one,” he says softly, his voice a soothing balm. he strokes their head softly, eyes filled with a deep, quiet love. minghao’s presence is calming, and you can see how naturally he takes to being a father. he talks to the baby in a gentle, melodic tone, his words full of love and promise. minghao is ready to be a calm and steady presence in your child’s life, guiding them with love and wisdom. his heart is full, and he’s already planning all the ways he’ll nurture and support your baby as they grow.

boo seungkwan

seungkwan is excited and lively, his energy filling the room as he holds your baby. “look at you! you’re amazing!” he exclaims, eyes wide with wonder. he talks to the baby with enthusiasm, his voice full of love and excitement. seungkwan’s reactions are so spirited that he makes everyone around him laugh. he’s already planning all the fun and lively moments he’ll share with your child, from games to songs to endless laughter. his heart is bursting with joy, and he’s ready to be the most fun and loving father. seungkwan’s energy is infectious, and you know your baby will always feel loved and cherished.

chwe hansol

hansol is amazed and a bit speechless as he holds your baby for the first time. he smiles gently, eyes wide with wonder. “wow, you’re really here,” he murmurs, voice filled with awe. he holds the baby close, careful and tender. hansol’s usual cool demeanor melts away in the presence of your newborn, revealing a softer, more vulnerable side. he’s ready to be the kind of father who’s always there, offering quiet support and endless love. his heart is full, and he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll share his passions and interests with your child. hansol’s love is deep and steady, and he’s ready to pour it all into this new journey.

lee chan

chan is overjoyed as he holds your baby, his smile wide and bright. he can’t help but dance around a bit, his excitement palpable. “you’re incredible!” he exclaims, eyes shining with happiness. he keeps looking at the baby in wonder, his heart full of love. chan’s joy is infectious, and you can see how deeply he’s already bonded with your child. he’s ready to be the most enthusiastic and loving father, sharing his energy and joy with your baby. chan’s heart is bursting with happiness, and he can’t wait to fill your child’s life with love, laughter, and endless fun.

‎‎‎‎‎© marvyu 2k24 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

HE AIN'T HITTING IT LIKE HE SUPPOSED TO HIT IT

pairings. xu minghao x female reader genre(s). smut

summary. at a party you find unexpected intimacy with minghao making you question your current relationship and discover what you truly need.

warnings. explicit language, sexual themes, alcohol consumption, intoxication, kissing, fingering, oral sex, protected penetrative sex, breakup, cheating?, emotional conflict -- if i missed anything lmk!

the hum of the party surrounds you as you step through the doorway, the bass from the speakers pulsing in time with your heartbeat. colorful lights dance across the crowded living room, where bodies move in sync with the music, laughter, and conversation blending into a cacophony of sound. you scan the room, spotting your boyfriend in the far corner, engaged in a heated debate with his friends. you sigh, the tension between you two hanging heavy over your head.

you refuse to have sex with him, a boundary he hasn’t been too understanding about. he thinks you’re not comfortable yet, which is partly true, but there’s more to it that you can’t quite put into words. it’s not just about being uncomfortable; there’s a fear that grips you every time you think about taking that step with him.

in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, you spot minghao. his aloof demeanor and intense gaze make him stand out even in the dim lighting. he’s always been a bit of an enigma, quiet and reserved, which only fuels your irritation towards him. tonight, you decide to approach him, a mix of curiosity and annoyance driving your steps.

you weave through the crowd, the heat from the bodies around you making the room feel warmer than it is. as you approach the kitchen, the chatter and laughter seem to fade into the background, leaving just the steady thrum of the music and your own heartbeat in your ears.

minghao stands there, seemingly lost in thought as he sips his drink. he doesn't notice you at first, and for a moment, you observe him. his expression is neutral, his eyes scanning the room with a certain detachment. he's always been like this, you think. aloof, almost distant. it irks you, this air of mystery he carries.

“hey, loner,” you tease, leaning against the counter beside him. the corners of your mouth twitch into a smirk as you try to catch his attention. “why so serious?”

minghao finally looks at you, his gaze cool and detached. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence between you stretching out. he takes another sip of his drink before responding. “just enjoying my drink,” he replies, his tone as blunt as ever.

you roll your eyes, taking a moment to study him. he’s dressed simply, yet there’s something about the way he carries himself that commands attention. you’ve never understood why he intrigues you so much, especially given how different he is from your usual type.

“always so mysterious,” you comment, your voice light, though there’s an underlying edge to your words. “what’s it like being the brooding artist of the group?”

he raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “what’s it like always needing to be the center of attention?”

you can’t help but laugh, a genuine sound that surprises even you. “touché,” you say, raising your own drink in a mock toast. “i guess we both have our roles to play.”

the banter feels comfortable, almost familiar. it’s strange, given how little you actually interact with minghao. your interactions are usually brief, marked by sarcastic remarks and quick retorts. tonight, though, there’s something different in the air.

“so,” you say, leaning in slightly, “why are you really here all alone? don’t tell me you’re avoiding everyone.”

he shrugs, his gaze drifting over the crowd. “sometimes it’s better to watch than to participate. you see more that way.”

you follow his gaze, the throng of partygoers a blur of movement and color. “and what do you see?”

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—interest, perhaps?—before his expression smooths over again. “people pretending to be something they’re not. it’s entertaining.”

you scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “and you’re above all that?”

“i didn’t say that,” he replies, his tone neutral. “just that it’s easier to see when you’re not in the middle of it.”

there’s a brief silence as you process his words. you’ve always thought of minghao as...detached, maybe even a bit pretentious, but tonight he seems more… grounded. it’s disarming, and you find yourself wanting to know more.

“you know,” you say, your voice softer now, “i always thought you were kind of a jerk. but maybe i was wrong.”

he chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “maybe you were. or maybe i am, and you’re just starting to see it.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “well, if you are, you hide it well.”

there’s another pause, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. you’re not sure what it is, but it makes your pulse quicken.

“so, what about you?” he asks suddenly, his gaze piercing. “why are you really here? with a boyfriend who doesn’t seem to pay you much attention?”

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. you glance over at your boyfriend, still engrossed in his conversation, oblivious to your absence.

“i don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “maybe i’m just trying to figure things out.”

minghao’s expression softens, and he leans in closer. “figure what out?”

you take a deep breath, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. “why i’m with someone who doesn’t understand me. why i can’t bring myself to be… intimate with him.”

he studies you for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. “your boyfriend probably doesn’t even know the way you taste.”

your breath hitches, the bluntness of his statement hitting you harder than you’d like to admit. you laugh it off, though the sound is hollow. “yeah, true,” you sigh, surprising even yourself with your honesty.

minghao's eyes narrow slightly, curiosity evident in his gaze. "what, really? why?"

you feel a mix of irritation and vulnerability. his directness is unnerving, and you can't decide whether you appreciate it or hate it. "scared," you mutter, turning your eyes away from him, focusing instead on the rim of your drink. the conversation suddenly feels too real, too raw.

he frowns, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "scared of what?"

your fingers tighten around your glass, the condensation making your skin slick. "too many questions," you reply, your voice strained. you take a large sip of your drink, the alcohol burning down your throat. "i'm going to go dance."

you push away from the counter, your heart pounding in your chest as you head towards the makeshift dance floor. the music engulfs you, the bass vibrating through your body. you lose yourself in the rhythm, the world narrowing down to the beat and the movement of your limbs. for a moment, you manage to forget the piercing gaze of minghao, the weight of his questions lingering in the back of your mind.

you spot mingyu in the crowd, his tall frame and easy smile drawing you in like a magnet. he's talking with a group of friends, but his eyes light up when he sees you approaching. you feel a surge of confidence, the alcohol making you bolder, more uninhibited.

"hey, mingyu," you say, your voice a little louder than necessary to be heard over the music.

he turns to you, his smile widening. "hey, y/n! having fun?"

"trying to," you reply with a grin. "dance with me?"

he doesn't need to be asked twice. mingyu wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the two of you start to move to the beat. his movements are smooth and effortless, and you find yourself matching his rhythm easily. the music is loud, the bass pulsing through your veins as you lose yourself in the dance.

you throw your arms around his neck, leaning in closer as the song shifts to a slower, more sensual beat. the room seems to blur around you, your focus narrowing down to the feel of mingyu's hands on your waist, the warmth of his body against yours.

for a moment, it feels like nothing else matters. you can forget about your boyfriend, about minghao's piercing questions. all that exists is the music and the movement, the way your body responds to mingyu's touch.

but then, through the haze of the dance floor, you catch sight of minghao again. he's standing at the edge of the room, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. there's something unreadable in his expression—concern, perhaps, or maybe something deeper. you can't tell, and it frustrates you.

you try to shake off the feeling, focusing instead on mingyu. "you're a good dancer," you say, your voice breathy.

he chuckles, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "thanks. you're not so bad yourself."

you laugh, the sound mingling with the music. but even as you try to lose yourself in the moment, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. it's as if minghao's gaze is a physical presence, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

the sensation intensifies, becoming almost unbearable. you open your eyes to see minghao still standing there, his expression unreadable but his gaze unwavering. there's a moment of silent communication between you, something passing between you that you can't quite identify.

before you can react, minghao is beside you, his presence commanding. he gently but firmly places a hand on your arm, pulling you away from mingyu with a surprising amount of strength. "come on," he says, his voice steady but leaving no room for argument. "you need to sober up."

"hey!" you protest, trying to pull away. "i'm fine!"

minghao doesn't relent, his grip firm but not painful as he leads you through the crowd and up the stairs. each step feels like a small battle, the alcohol in your system making your movements sluggish and your thoughts hazy. you barely notice the curious looks from other partygoers as minghao guides you to the second floor.

he opens a door at the end of the hallway, revealing a guest bedroom, and gently but insistently guides you inside. the room is dimly lit, a stark contrast to the chaos downstairs. the silence is almost deafening, broken only by the distant thrum of the music.

minghao closes the door behind you, the click of the latch sounding strangely final. you sway slightly on your feet, the room spinning around you as you try to get your bearings. he places a steadying hand on your arm, his touch grounding you.

“sit down,” he instructs, guiding you to the edge of the bed. you sink down onto the mattress, the soft surface a welcome relief.

he crouches in front of you, his eyes level with yours. there’s a seriousness in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. he reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “drink this,” he says firmly. “you need to sober up.”

you take the bottle from him, the cool plastic a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin. you bring it to your lips, taking a small sip at first, then a larger one as the refreshing liquid slides down your throat. it feels like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long.

“what?” you ask, catching the intense look in his eyes.

“nothing,” he mutters, flopping back on the bed and pulling out his phone, the blue light illuminating his features.

you frown, turning to look at him. “you’re just going to lay on some random guy’s bed?”

“can’t really give a shit, but i think this is the guest room,” he replies, still focused on his phone.

you nod, a small “oh” escaping your lips. the silence stretches out between you, filled only by the muffled sounds of the party downstairs. you take another sip of water, feeling the fog in your mind slowly start to lift.

you lean back on your hands, your gaze drifting to the ceiling. “why did you bring me here?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

minghao glances at you, his expression unreadable. “because you were about to make a mistake,” he says simply.

you furrow your brow, confusion and frustration warring within you. “what mistake?”

he sits up, his phone forgotten as he turns to face you fully. “you were drunk and about to do something you’d regret. i didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

his words hit you harder than you expected, a mixture of relief and irritation flooding your system. “i can take care of myself,” you snap, though the conviction in your voice wavers.

“i know you can,” he replies calmly. “but sometimes it’s okay to let someone else look out for you.”

you stare at him, the weight of his words settling over you. there’s an honesty in his gaze that’s disarming, and for the first time tonight, you feel a flicker of gratitude towards him.

“thank you,” you say softly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “anytime.”

the silence that follows is different—less charged, more comfortable. you take another sip of water, the clarity returning to your thoughts as the alcohol’s grip begins to loosen.

after a minute, a sudden surge of boldness washes over you. the silence stretches, filled with unspoken tension. you glance at minghao, his focus seemingly back on his phone, but you can feel the subtle shifts in his attention, the way his eyes flicker toward you when he thinks you aren't looking.

you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. the alcohol has dulled your inhibitions, but the clarity from the water has given you a strange sense of purpose. with a determined exhale, you shift your position, moving to straddle his waist. the motion is deliberate, and it catches him off guard.

minghao's phone slips from his hand, forgotten, as he leans up immediately. one hand instinctively goes to your waist, his grip firm and grounding. his eyes search yours, curiosity and amusement mingling in their depths.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his voice low and tinged with genuine curiosity.

your heart races, the intensity of the moment making you acutely aware of every sensation—the warmth of his hand on your waist, the rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the way his breath mingles with yours. you hold onto his shoulders, the contact grounding you as you lean down, bringing your face inches from his.

“if i’m being honest… you look really good tonight—and i’m horny,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of desire and nerves.

minghao's laugh is rich and warm, a sound that reverberates through your body. his grip on your waist tightens slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the charged atmosphere between you. “what happened to you being scared?” he teases, his eyes darkening with interest.

you swallow hard, your gaze dropping to his lips before meeting his eyes again. the closeness is intoxicating, the tension palpable. “well… it’s you,” you whisper, the words hanging in the air between you. “you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

for a moment, time seems to stand still. the room around you fades away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this electrifying moment. then, as if pulled by an irresistible force, your lips finally meet.

the kiss is everything you didn’t know you needed. it starts tentatively, both of you testing the waters, but quickly escalates. it’s hungry, desperate, and filled with a passion that takes you both by surprise. minghao’s hand slides from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. you respond eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid he might disappear.

the world outside this room ceases to exist. there’s only the taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, the way his breath hitches when you press closer. the kiss is messy, your lips and tongues clashing in a dance that feels both frenzied and perfectly synchronized.

minghao shifts beneath you, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, angling you for better access. you moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating between you and spurring you both on. he breaks the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting heavily.

“y/n,” he murmurs, your name a soft plea on his lips.

you don’t respond with words. instead, you kiss him again, your lips moving with more urgency, more need. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared desire—the rustle of clothing, the soft gasps and moans, the rhythmic beat of your heart pounding in your ears.

minghao’s hands are everywhere, mapping out the curves of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he slips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, the contact of his skin against yours sending a shiver down your spine. you arch into his touch, craving more, needing more.

he flips you onto your back, his movements fluid and purposeful. his lips trail down your neck, sucking and nibbling at your sensitive skin, each touch making you gasp and writhe beneath him. his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until you lift your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head and discard it.

“beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes raking over your exposed skin with a reverence that makes your heart flutter.

you reach for him, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. he helps you, shrugging out of the fabric and tossing it aside. your hands explore the expanse of his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch. it’s overwhelming, the intensity of your desire for him, the way every nerve in your body seems to be alight with need.

the kiss deepens, becoming sloppy and filled with need. minghao's lips move against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. his tongue teases your lower lip before delving deeper, tangling with yours in a dance of raw desire. each kiss feels like it's pulling you further into a vortex of passion, leaving you craving more.

his hand slides up your thigh, the touch light and teasing at first, sending shivers down your spine. the heat of his palm against your skin ignites a fire within you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. he pauses for a moment, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin just below the hem of your skirt, making you gasp.

minghao's eyes meet yours, a silent question lingering in their depths. you nod, giving him the permission he seeks. with a swift but gentle motion, he flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours. the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against yours, is both grounding and electrifying.

his lips leave a trail of fire down your neck, each kiss deliberate and sensual. you arch your back, giving him better access as his mouth finds the sensitive spot just below your ear. he nips at the skin, eliciting a soft moan from you, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

minghao's hand continues its journey, slipping under your skirt and trailing up the inside of your thigh. his touch is firm but gentle, his fingers exploring the soft skin with a reverence that makes you tremble. he pauses again, his eyes locking with yours as his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“you’re so responsive,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “it’s driving me crazy.”

you bite your lip, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues to tease you. “minghao, please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “patience,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your collarbone. “i want to savor this.”

his fingers slide under the fabric, finding your wetness. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand as he expertly teases you, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body. his thumb circles your clit, the pressure light and teasing, driving you to the edge but never quite letting you tip over.

“minghao,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid he might pull away. “i need you.”

he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your reactions. “i’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

he slips a finger inside you, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. you gasp, your body arching into his touch, every nerve ending on fire. he moves slowly at first, his finger exploring your depths with a gentleness that makes you ache for more. he adds another finger, stretching you, filling you, each movement deliberate and controlled.

his lips find yours again, the kiss a perfect blend of passion and tenderness. you lose yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him, every touch and every kiss pushing you closer to the edge. he moves his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still circling your clit, the dual sensations driving you wild.

“please,” you beg, your voice barely a whisper, the need for release consuming you. “i need to come.”

minghao’s eyes meet yours, a flicker of something soft and caring in their depths. “not yet,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a barely-there kiss. “i want to watch you fall apart.”

he increases the pace of his fingers, each thrust hitting just the right spot, his thumb applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit. you feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.

“please,” you beg again, your voice a desperate plea.

with a final, skillful flick of his fingers, he pushes you over the edge. you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm, waves of pleasure washing over you in an intense, all-consuming rush. minghao doesn’t stop, his fingers and thumb continuing their relentless assault, prolonging your pleasure, making you see stars.

he watches you the entire time, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. “you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

when you finally come down from the high, your body trembling and spent, he gently withdraws his fingers, his touch soothing as he caresses your thigh. you look up at him, your eyes half-lidded and hazy with satisfaction.

“minghao,” you whisper, reaching out to him, needing the connection, the closeness.

he leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “i’m here,” he whispers against your lips. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you pull him closer, your fingers trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. he inhales sharply as you undo the button and slide the zipper down, your touch sending a shiver through him.

he stands up briefly, the absence of his warmth leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. his movements are hurried, but there’s a grace to them that you can’t help but admire. the way his muscles flex under his skin as he discards his clothes is mesmerizing, each motion deliberate and efficient. you watch him, your heart pounding in anticipation, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him.

minghao’s shirt falls to the floor first, followed by his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. the dim light casts shadows across his body, highlighting the defined lines of his muscles. he glances at you, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slides them down. you can’t tear your eyes away, your gaze drinking in every inch of him.

when he’s finally free of his clothes, he stands there for a moment, the weight of the moment hanging between you. the raw vulnerability of being completely exposed, both physically and emotionally, is almost overwhelming. you reach out to him, your fingers trailing lightly over his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch.

he shivers slightly, his breath hitching as your fingers brush against him. he reaches for a condom from his discarded pants, tearing the packet open with his teeth. the sound is loud in the quiet room, a sharp contrast to the softness of the moment. he rolls it on with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving yours.

minghao lowers himself over you, his body a comforting weight, his skin warm against yours. he pauses, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle and filled with concern.

you nod, your heart swelling with affection and desire. “i’m sure,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions coursing through you.

he positions himself at your entrance, the tip of him pressing against your wetness. he pushes in slowly, the sensation both familiar and entirely new. you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fills you completely, the stretch a delicious burn. the world narrows down to the feeling of him inside you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly.

minghao moves slowly at first, his thrusts measured and controlled. he’s giving you time to adjust, to savor the sensation of being connected in such an intimate way. each movement is deliberate, his eyes locked on yours, watching for your reactions. the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s so attuned to your needs, makes your heart swell with emotion.

as you grow accustomed to the feel of him, you begin to move with him, matching his rhythm. the pace quickens, each thrust deeper and more urgent. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure—the slap of skin against skin, the soft gasps and moans, the rhythmic pounding of your heart.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more, craving more. he responds with a thrust that hits just the right spot, making you cry out his name. “minghao,” you moan, your nails dragging down his back, leaving faint red trails.

he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, his movements becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. “come for me, y/n,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough with need.

with a final thrust, you shatter, the orgasm washing over you in waves, leaving you breathless and spent. minghao follows soon after, his release spilling into the condom, his body tensing and then relaxing against yours. the feeling of him filling you, even with the barrier between you, is overwhelmingly intimate, a physical manifestation of the connection you feel.

the room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the party downstairs and the sound of your breathing as you both come down from the high of your shared experience. minghao's weight shifts beside you, his warmth a comforting presence in the cool room.

he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender. his fingers linger for a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek before he speaks. “you okay?” he asks, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, the reality of what just happened beginning to sink in. “yeah,” you breathe, a small smile playing on your lips. “i’m okay.”

relief washes over his features, and he nods, his eyes never leaving yours. he pulls away slightly, his movements slow and careful as he disposes of the condom, his actions methodical and precise. you watch him, feeling a strange sense of intimacy in the mundane act.

when he returns to the bed, he lays beside you, his presence a comforting weight. he props himself up on one elbow, his gaze soft as he looks at you. there’s a moment of silence, filled with the unspoken emotions and thoughts swirling between you.

minghao breaks the silence, his voice serious but gentle. “we can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” his words are a request and a plea, the gravity of the situation clear in his eyes.

you take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “whatever,” you mutter, feeling a mix of emotions. the reality of what just happened is complex, a blend of relief, confusion, and something else you can’t quite identify. “thanks for the first time,” you add, your voice softening as you meet his gaze.

a soft laugh escapes his lips, the sound soothing in the quiet room. “anytime,” he replies, his eyes softening as he looks at you. there’s a warmth in his gaze, a depth of emotion that makes your heart ache in a way you can’t quite explain.

you both lay there in silence for a while, the quiet moments stretching out, filled with the unspoken understanding between you. the reality of what just happened is starting to settle, the magnitude of the shift in your relationship becoming clear.

minghao’s fingers find yours, his touch light and reassuring. he squeezes your hand gently, a silent promise that he’s here for you, that this moment meant something to him too. you squeeze back, the simple gesture conveying more than words ever could.

you turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “this changes things, doesn’t it?” you whisper, the question hanging in the air between you.

he nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, it does,” he admits, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and hope. “but maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

you ponder his words, the truth of them resonating deep within you. the dynamic between you has shifted, the lines between enemies and something more becoming blurred. it’s a lot to take in, but there’s a part of you that feels a strange sense of contentment, a sense of rightness in what just happened.

as the minutes tick by, the silence becomes more comfortable, the tension easing into a shared understanding. you both know that things won’t be the same after tonight, but there’s a sense of anticipation, of curiosity about what the future holds.

minghao’s eyes grow heavy, and you can see the fatigue setting in. “we should probably get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice soft and drowsy.

you nod, feeling the exhaustion creeping into your own limbs. “yeah, you’re right,” you agree, snuggling closer to him, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence.

he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his embrace. the feeling of his body against yours is reassuring, a silent promise that he’s here with you, that you’re not alone. you close your eyes, the events of the night replaying in your mind as you drift off to sleep.

the night passes slowly, filled with the quiet sounds of your breathing and the warmth of minghao’s embrace. when you wake in the morning, the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains, you feel a sense of calm, of clarity.

you glance over at minghao, his face peaceful in sleep, and you wonder how this will change things between you. there's a part of you that’s excited, that’s hopeful for what the future holds. but there’s also a realization that you can’t ignore: your current relationship with your boyfriend isn’t right for you.

the thought of breaking up with him has crossed your mind before, but it’s never been as clear as it is now. last night made you realize that you deserve to be with someone who understands you, someone who makes you feel safe and cherished. someone like minghao.

quietly, you slip out of minghao’s embrace, careful not to wake him. you sit up in bed, watching him for a moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing your anxious thoughts. leaning down, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent thank you for everything he’s shown you, for the clarity he’s brought to your life.

minghao stirs slightly, a soft murmur escaping his lips, but he doesn’t wake. you smile softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face before you slip out of bed. the room is cool, and you shiver as you gather your clothes, dressing quickly and quietly.

before you leave, you take one last look at minghao, a sense of determination settling over you. you know what you have to do, and you’re ready to face it. you’re ready to make a change, to pursue something real and meaningful.

as you step out of the room and close the door softly behind you, the reality of what you need to do sinks in. you pull out your phone, staring at the screen for a moment at the spam messages he sent last night.

boyfriend: baby? boyfriend: yo where you at? boyfriend: people are telling me they saw you leave with that guy you claim to hate wtf??? boyfriend: IM WORRIED. IM GOING HOME. YOU BETTER CALL ME!

you sighed, before typing out a message to your boyfriend. it’s not an easy message to send, but it’s necessary.

you: we need to talk. you: i think it’s time for us to go our separate ways.

© marvyu 2k24 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

POV: YOU GOT SVT MEMBERS' NAMES TATTOOED

their reactions ~

requested~ request more in box ok dears i jinja need requests dear ok thanks Ok

-

SEUNGCHEOL

is shocked at first but then goes and gets your name tattooed as well because he feels bad

-

JEONGHAN

smiles at you awkwardly, pitying you and trying not to laugh

-

JOSHUA

rubs his thumb over it and tears up, speaking softly "thank you...."

-

JUN

stares at you then says ".... i thought you were joking"

-

HOSHI

smiles widely but he's really scared

-

WONWOO

looks at you ".. why did you do that?"

-

WOOZI

already has your name tattooed too

-

DOKYEOM

laughs uncontrollably but then the laughter turns into tears and he cries "y/n.. i cant believe it. i love you"

-

MINGYU

tries not to laugh but then smiles "you should've gotten it bigger"

-

MINGHAO

gulps awkwardly "oh... um did it hurt..?"

-

SEUNGKWAN

cringes and walks away but then comes back "it's.. so cute! thank you"

-

VERNON

his eye twitches and looks at you "that's.. really weird" pulls out his wallet and rubs his head "how much is tattoo removal?"

-

DINO

"it's.... beautiful.." takes out his phone and sends a photo of it to the gc to laugh

-

thanks dears pls enjoy~ my first svt imagine~

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

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.

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