serenitys_alcove

the place where lost things go

[serenitys-alcove]

Masterlist

A Little Closer (Tang Bo x Reader)

Concede (Tang Jan x Reader) — 18+

Special Treatment (Cheong Myeong x Fem!Reader)

Oblivious (Cheong Myeong x Reader)

Historically Inaccurate (Cheong Myeong x Modern!Fem!Reader)

We’re Keeping it (Tang Bo x Reader)

Meet Cute (Tang Bo x Fem!Reader)

[tama-journey-to-inspiration]

So I just made a different blog exclusively for my art, and i'll be posting "remakes" of my old art/sketches, that im no longer proud of. Anyways, I cleaned up this sketches and add some extra doodles.

[serenitys-alcove]

PLEASE this just fed my soul 🥹

[serenitys-alcove]

Historically Inaccurate

PBSS!Cheong Myeong x Modern!Fem!Reader

Beep. Beep. Beep. He jumps to his feet, unsheathing his sword. “No!” You scream, hands outstretched. “Don’t! It’s okay, it’s just my shitty router.” “Ro-ou-ta?” “Yes,” a bead of sweat slowly trickles down your forehead. “Please, don’t stab my wifi.” OR Your life is upturned when a magical, sword wielding warrior crash lands in your apartment. Cue the absolute pandemonium.

Table of contents

Chapter 1: I Can’t Die on a Cliffhanger

Chapter 2: Mr. Sandman, Bring me a Nightmare

[serenitys-alcove]

Historically Inaccurate (ch. 2)

PBSS!Cheong Myeong x Modern!Fem!Reader

Your life is upturned when a magical, sword wielding warrior crash lands in your apartment. Cue the absolute pandemonium.

<- Ch. 1 Table of Contents

Chapter 2: Mr. Sandman, Bring Me a Nightmare

You are so not okay right now. Definitely traumatized. Very possibly on the brink of a mental breakdown.

You quicken your steps, the cold wind biting at your bare arms as you charge down the street. Where are you headed? You have no idea. The only thing on your mind at the time had been a continuous loop of RUN AWAY—RUN AWAY—RUN AWAY—

And so here you are. Cold, alone and running the fuck away.

You probably look like a crazy person right now: hair in a frazzled mess, torn clothes and dried blood stains all over you. You're not blind—you can see the alarmed stares you're attracting. The sidewalk for once is miraculously clear in front of you, parted like the Red Sea.

Well, whatever. You're not feeling particularly chatty right now either.

The world feels smaller, almost compressed. Like you're walking down a dark, narrow tunnel, and it's squeezing your lungs tighter and tighter. Your vision is starting to blur at the edges, shapes and colors melding together and swirling like paint.

Suddenly everything is too loud, blaring like alarms in your ears. The cars rushing by, the whistling wind, the chatter of pedestrians—it's unbearable. You stumble to the nearest door you can find, pushing it open and nearly falling through the entrance.

The chatter inside immediately quiets down.

You're in what looks to be a café. There are cute fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and a sign on the wall that reads Life Happens, Coffee Helps. A bell jingles innocently above you.

You stagger to the counter, skipping the line. Nobody really says anything to stop you. The barista takes one look at you and pales.

"Police," you gasp, trying to catch your breath. "Somebody, call the police."

****

Forty minutes later, you're wrapped in one of those large foil blankets like an aluminum burrito. Outside of your apartment complex, police swarm the area like ants.

After getting the details from you, they'd immediately rushed here to detain the offender. You may not be his only victim, after all. At least they let you sit a very generous distance away (AKA, across the street). You don't think your mental state could have handled seeing that psycho again.

"Ma'am," the officer calls you, making you flinch so hard you nearly tear your blanket. Your paranoia is at an all time high right now, worse than that time you pulled two all-nighters in a row with only red bull and a bag of Doritos to sustain yourself.

He sighs, shaking his head, and—well, there goes any peace of mind you might have had left. "He's gone, but we took blood samples and our detectives are currently observing the crime scene. It should be cleared for reentry soon enough."

"So—so what, I'm just supposed to go back to what I was doing?" Your voice trembles. How can you possibly function like this?

The officer presses his lips together. "Do you have anywhere else to stay tonight? A friend's or family's place? Maybe a hotel?"

You want to laugh in his face, or maybe cry. Your nearest family is a state away. The closest thing you have to a friend here is your coworker, who you're pretty sure lives with an abusive husband. And a hotel? Fucking hell, you can barely afford groceries.

The officer must see the desperation on your face because his expression softens a little. "Listen, there's a shop not too far from here, about two blocks down the hill. They have options for self defense. Just be responsible with it, and call us if anything happens."

You bite your lip, nodding tiredly. "Yeah, okay."

"Our department will continue to conduct a manhunt in the area based off of the description you gave us. I suggest you purchase a new mobile device so that we can contact you." He gives you one last nod before walking away.

You close your eyes, dropping your head in your hands. Breathing deeply, you let out a long, shuddering sigh.

"Well," you mutter. "Fuck."

****

You get no sleep that night.

Or the night after, really. On the third night, you finally collapse from utter exhaustion, but you're restlessly tossing and turning until the sun peaks treacherously through your curtains.

After an entire week of feeling half-alive, you've finally fucking had it. You come back to your apartment with a taser, pepper spray, a baseball bat and a pending background check for a firearm. You sleep with the taser next to you, and it's the first time all week that you're able to get in a blessed, uninterrupted eight hours.

After two weeks, your routine starts to reestablish itself. You buy yourself a cheap phone, get back into the flow of work, and DIY some repairs in your apartment with dollar store solutions and pure spite. Eventually, your tension releases. You stop looking over your shoulder every five minutes. You lay off the frantic internet searches.

And finally, finally, after two and a half painful weeks, you have some semblance of peace back in your life.

Which of course, predictably, is when everything goes to shit.

****

It's three in the morning.

The refrigerator hums. Your washing machine hiccups—pauses—and resumes washing. You're fast asleep, swaddled in your comforter like it could ward off evil spirits.

Or, well, you were fast asleep.

Now you're wide awake, eyes snapping open to the sound of your floorboards creaking. Your heart stops. You hold your breath.

You could be imagining it. You hope you're imagining it. Your building is old. Old buildings make weird noises, right? Or maybe it's just your neighbors having…fun. Wouldn't be the first time.

Creaaaak.

Panic starts to rise in your chest. Okay, that was definitely closer. Your trembling hand reaches slowly for your taser.

You've practiced for this. Watched like, a gazillion self-defense videos. Still, you don't feel anywhere near ready to face this yet.

The steps—undeniably human steps now—start walking towards your bedroom. Sweat beads at your forehead. You clutch the taser in a white-knuckled grip.

The bedroom door creaks open.

You nearly piss yourself.

Oh god, it's him. It's that fucking psycho from earlier. Standing in the shadows like the ghost of Christmas Future.

The moonlight peaks through your curtains, barely illuminating his figure. He's wearing the same ridiculous pink-and-white outfit as before, the one that looks like it was plucked straight from a martial arts movie set. It's even more tattered now—like he'd been dragged backwards through a forest, dunked in a lake, and then...glitter-bombed? His hair's a ghastly mess, sticking out in every direction, and his eyes—

His eyes dart to you. They look wild. Animalistic.

You've never not wanted to be somewhere more in your entire life.

He knows you're awake. There's no way he doesn't, you're rigid as a board. Taking a shaky breath, you try to steel yourself. "Don't come any—!"

In a flash, he's across the room, and your eyes blow wide open.

"...closer," you choke out.

Did he—did he just fucking teleport?

Something in your sanity snaps. Maybe it's the stress, or the compounded sleep deprivation, or the fact that Janine from work insulted your earrings today.

You growl, kicking up the blanket to obscure his vision. Then, you lunge with bared teeth, taser wielded like a weapon of mass destruction.

When the blanket drops, there's just air.

What the?

A hand grips the back of your shirt, yanking you back. You yelp, staring up at the glowing pink eyes currently narrowed at you. He looks murderous, but also slightly disappointed—like he couldn't believe you were this pathetic.

Great, now you're terrified and strangely offended.

"W-what the hell do you want from me?" You stammer, voice trembling.

You don't try to attack again. You're hopelessly outmatched. In fact, he could probably kill you before you even manage to fully process it. The feeling of having your life in his hands is gut-wrenchingly disturbing.

He looks unsure for a moment, throwing you off guard. Then he glares at you like you were the one intruding in his house.

You feel like you're about to pass out from the nerves.

He clenches his jaw, and then he speaks.

"Who..." he struggles, voice thick with a heavy accent. "Who...you?"

****

<- Ch. 1 Table of Contents

[serenitys-alcove]

Meet Cute

Tang Bo x Fem!Reader

He'd been watching you. Undercover, of course. Who did you think he was?

Tang Bo was nothing if not subtle, a master of his practice, the best of the best—

"Sir?" A meek voice called out, making him blink. He looked down to see an anxious middle aged man. "What are you doing on the roof of my shop?"

"Ah." Perhaps not as subtle as he thought. He scratched the back of his head. "Your shop offers the best vantage point."

"I-I see," a drop of sweat rolled down the man's forehead.

Oh. He was being a bother, wasn't he? Well, that wouldn't do.

Bo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small satch of coins. He tossed it carelessly to the man. "Here, compensation for your troubles."

It hit the man in the face. "Oy!" He grunted, scowling in irritation. Then he opened it, and his eyes bulged at the contents. "T-thank you sir! Spend all the time you like up there!"

"Sure," Bo waved him off, fixated on something else entirely.

That something else being you, of course.

God, he could watch you all day. You were just so adorable.

Creep, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his Hyung-nim rang out in his mind. He scowled.

What did that old grouch know anyway?

What did you call me, brat?!

Bo shoved the raging image of his Hyung-nim to the back of his mind, ignoring the string of expletives. Right, he had a mission.

Today was the day he was finally going to make a move.

The stage? Set. His outfit? Immaculate. His lines? Rehearsed about a million times in the mirror. All that was left was to set his plan into motion.

Bo narrowed his eyes, watching as you laughed brightly with a street vendor. You were wearing that cute little ribbon in your hair again, his favorite one. The vendor grinned at you, leaning closer.

"Oy," he frowned, hackles rising. That was way too close. Didn't that guy have any concept of personal space?

Bo grabbed a piece of debris from the roof, before launching it hard at the offender with a sharp flick of his wrist. It smacked into the man's arm, making him yelp and flinch back. He looked around warily, making Bo smirk.

Well, served him right.

You, bless your soul, were just as alarmed as the vendor, wide eyed and frantic with concern. If only you would look at him that way instead.

Bo sighed, closing his eyes. A man could dream, but now was not the time to fantasize. Much was at stake here.

Soon, you would be leaving to travel on your usual route back home, a winding twenty minute walk through the village. Bo would intercept you strategically, charm your socks off, and take you home. Hopefully.

After way too much attention spent on the damned vendor (Bo was going to scare him out of Sichuan if his eyes lingered for just one second longer—), you were finally on your way, wicker basket full of fresh fruit in your hand and adorable smile on your face.

Bo grinned, tilting his straw hat lower over his eyes as he leaned over the edge of the roof. That was his queue.

He soundlessly leapt off of the roof, landing in a dark, subtle corner out of view. From this close, he could faintly hear you humming a cheery tune under your breath. He had to suppress an amused smile.

Bo crouched in the shadows, counting down the seconds. The carriage across from you should be coming through in 3...2...1...

He walked out, directly in its path, making the coachman yell in shock. Bo 'stumbled' back, gasping in shock as the horses reared back in alarm. Of course, they could never trample him if they tried. He'd calculated the exact distance he had to fall to make it look realistic but still be within relative safety. That, and he could roll out of the way faster than the coachman could blink.

"H-Hey! What do you think you're doing?" The coachman shouted furiously. "You can't just walk in front of a moving carriage like that! Are you out of your mind?!"

"Aha..." Bo chuckled, scratching at his chin. "My mistake. I wasn't looking where I was going."

The coachman muttered something nasty under his breath, making Bo twitch. If he wasn't in disguise right now, that stupid brat would be trembling in his boots—guaranteed.

"Hey!" A sweet voice graced his ears, making all of his ire evaporate like water. He blinked up at your concerned face and outstretched hand. "Are you okay, sir?"

Oh. Now he was, thanks. In fact, he could sit here on the dusty road and stare at you all day and be more than fine. The way the sun was hitting your hair right now was making you look like a dream.

It was only when he noticed your eyebrows begin to crinkle that he realized he had yet to respond. Right.

He smiled sheepishly, taking your hand and letting you pull him up. "Yeah, sorry! I guess I wasn't paying enough attention."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a loud, undignified snort. He slapped an imaginary hand over his Hyung-nim's mouth, ignoring the string of muffled expletives.

You tilted your head, smiling gently. "That's okay, there's always a lot going on here. Be careful next time though."

Bo looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm actually new here, so I'm a little unfamiliar with my surroundings." Lie. "Of course it's fine if you don't, but I was wondering if you knew someone who could show me around?”

He looked down and fiddled with his robes for extra pathetic effect. God, he was good at this. He knew you were too nice to say no, or pass the responsibility onto someone else.

You slimy little leec—mmph!

A warm hand landed on his arm, making his breath hitch. He looked up to see your blinding grin, eyes warm and crinkled at the edges. His heart stuttered a little.

"What a question! Of course I know someone," you chuckled, shooting him a sly wink. "She's standing right here. Come on, follow me."

Bo trailed after you, a little dazed. He was feeling a bit fuzzy. Was this normal? Did he need to see a healer?

You are a healer, idiot.

Right.

Well, if he died, at least he would die happy. You had touched him. Twice.

Holy shit, this is pathetic.

Shut up, let me have this moment.

He followed after you enthusiastically, listening intently as you gave him a tour of all the places he already knew. In a way, it was like he was discovering them all over again through your eyes. Sometimes, you would even grab his wrist to pull him along. He swore he saw heaven for those few precious moments.

Every so often though, someone would recognize him through his disguise. However, a quick and well-timed glare always shut them up. He wasn't known for his patience, after all. Thankfully, you never seemed to notice, chatting away excitedly and bringing a genuine smile back to his face.

"This is the best florist in town," you told him eagerly, holding up an artfully arranged bouquet for him to smell. "Oh, and just down the street they sell the most wonderful foreign delicacies! The merchants come by every week—"

Tang Bo nodded along, eyes half-lidded and a stupid grin on his lips as he listened to you ramble. You were simply radiant, lighting up in excitement when you delved into something you were passionate about.

If only he could have stayed with you like this forever. But alas, all good things must regretfully come to an end.

"Sorry, I think I dragged you all over the place when you just asked for a quick tour," you scratched the back of your head, slightly embarrassed.

Bo had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grabbing you, tucking you into his robes and never letting you go. He needed you to think that he was kind and dignified, not some crazy psycho.

You are a crazy psycho.

His eye twitched.

"No, no," he cleared his throat, smiling reassuringly. "I learned so much today thanks to you. In fact, I haven't had that much fun in a long time."

His heart melted at the bashful look on your face. Awee.

It was true though, he did have the time of his life today. It was way better than he could've ever imagined. And he'd...ahem, imagined a lot.

Pervert.

"I want to repay you for all that you've done for me today," he bowed his head, trying to hide the flush on his cheeks. "Let me know if there's anything I can do."

Your eyes widened, hands gesturing wildly. "Oh no, please! It was my pleasure. I actually had a great time too." You coughed, looking down with a small smile.

"Alright," Bo chuckled gently. This was it. He was really going to do it this time. "Then at least let me walk you back."

His heart thudded anxiously in his chest as he waited for your response. You blinked, looking up at him in surprise. Then, the most magnificent grin spread across your face.

"You know what? I would love that."

She said yes? She said yes!! Hell yeah!

Bo beamed brightly, trying not to show how much he was screaming internally as he offered you his arm. "Lead the way?"

"Of course," you winked, and the screaming kicked up two notches.

Bo floated next to you, barely harnessing enough self restraint to keep a serene expression on his face. Giddiness bubbled in his chest, threatening to explode at any moment. If someone had asked him afterwards to describe the scenery of the walk, he wouldn’t be able to say shit. What he could do was name about fifty different adjectives to describe your eyes. Honestly, he couldn’t stop staring at you if he tried. He was a fool for you—and you didn’t even know it.

“We should do this again sometime,” you grinned, turning to him once you arrived at your front door.

“What? Don’t tell me there’s more you haven’t shown me?” Bo smirked playfully, raising a brow. “And here I thought you were a diligent tour guide.”

“Well yes, there’s a lot to see in Sichuan,” you giggled, eyes flickering up to catch his. “But I meant that we should see each other again. Soon.”

Bo blinked, feeling a lump settle in his throat. He swallowed heavily, feeling his heart start to race. “Uh, yeah. Totally. Would love that.”

Ugh. Smooth, real smooth.

“But it’s strange,” you tapped your chin, making his stomach drop. Did he fuck up somehow? “I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“A-Ah,” Bo smiled politely, sweat beading at his temples. “Is that so? I can’t say the same.”

“Really?” Something glinted in your eyes. Uh oh, that probably wasn’t good. You couldn’t possibly have figured him out, could you?

“Positive,” he squeaked.

“You know, somehow I find that a little hard to believe,” a smile pulled at your lips, and you leaned closer into his space. His breath hitched as you gently pushed up his straw hat with two fingers, exposing his green eyes. “Because I heard you’re the sharpest of your clan. Isn’t that right, Master Tang?”

He gulped. “I-I can explain.”

A million different apologies began to run through his mind. He couldn’t lose his chance with you before he even managed to ask you out.

“No,” you shook your head, making his face drop. Ah. So this was it, then? He always found a way to—

Peck.

Bo’s eyes widened, mouth hanging open as he processed the fleeting, soft warmth against his cheek. His eyes swiveled down to you, making you chuckle.

“I already know,” you said gently, squeezing his hand. “And my answer is yes.”

And then you turned around, opened your door, and left him standing on your front porch in the most jumbled mix of emotions he’d ever felt.

Huh…you really managed to pull something off, brat.

But Bo was already long gone, spirit floating up to heaven as his body short circuited. Steam poured from his ears as he twitched.

Hey, hey! Don’t you dare pass out on me! Tang Bo-ya!

****

Some extras:

You and Bo had never officially met before this

This hopeless idiot fell in love just by watching you around Sichuan (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

You’re always smiling and so kind to others that he couldn’t help himself

At first it wasn’t planned, but then he started to alter his plans to walk by the places he knew you would be

Of course you recognize him, he’s practically a legend in Sichuan ( ◡‿◡ ;)

But you never approached him before because he never did either ╮( ˘ ､ ˘ )╭

He’s in disguise here cuz he doesn’t wanna scare you with his reputation or the Tang name

Pined so hard and for so long that Cheong Myeong stopped drinking with him for a bit because he was unbearable

He couldn’t stop gushing about you, and when he wasn’t, he just sighed in longing every few minutes

Will be definitely be smiling like an idiot all day after this (♡˙︶˙♡)

[serenitys-alcove]

We’re Keeping it

Tang Bo x Reader

Inspired by before the year ends by enihk-writes

"I think it looks ugly."

"Tang Bo!"

"What?" Your husband shrugged, smirking. "It's true."

You glared at him, holding up the gaudy ornament his grandmother had gifted you both. And, okay—yes, it was a little out of place here. But it wasn't ugly.

“I think she gave it to us out of spite,” Bo hummed, rubbing his chin. “Did I forget to visit recently?”

“You’re insufferable,” you groaned, putting it down on a nearby table. “Can you just be nice for once?”

Large hands grabbed your hips from behind, a warm chin landing on your shoulder. “Of course I can,” a teasing voice breathed into your ear, making your face heat. “I can be anything you want me to be, darling.”

“Alright, that’s enough!” You inhaled sharply, pushing your devious husband away. He shook from silent laughter, pressing his lips together.

“You’re a menace,” you pointed an accusing finger at him, making him grin. “And we are keeping that.” You pointed at the ornament, making his grin drop.

“Can’t we just pretend we lost it or something?” Bo groaned, throwing his head back. “She won’t even notice.”

“Your grandmother? Are we talking about the same person here?” You said incredulously. That old woman? The one with eyes and ears so sharp you couldn’t breathe too loudly without her noticing? That one?

“Okay, fine. Maybe she’ll notice, but there’s nothing she can do about it.”

A vein throbbed on your forehead. “Tang Bo…”

Nimble fingers suddenly tilted your chin up, and warm lips pressed against yours. You sighed, hands rising to gently pull him closer as you melted into the kiss.

When you broke apart, he leaned his forehead against yours, thumb rubbing circles into the dip of your hip.

“Fine,” Bo sighed, rolling his eyes theatrically. “If it matters so much to you, we’ll keep it. I’ll even help you put it up on the wall.”

You smiled softly. Your husband might be childish sometimes, but he always wanted to make you happy in the end. “Thank you.”

Then he smirked mischievously. “But only if I get to use it for target practice.”

Your eye twitched. This idiot—

[serenitys-alcove]

Hi everyone! It has recently been suggested that Cheong Myeong’s speech in my fic “Historically Inaccurate” should be in Mandarin rather than Korean, since rotbb actually takes place in China. The reason I originally posted the speech in Korean is because a lot of the character names are Korean adapted, and the novel is written in Korean. However, I am open to whatever you guys are leaning towards! Please let me know below:

Mandarin would be better!

Nah, keep it as Korean

Don’t care. Either one works

Voting ended onJun 16, 2025

Edit: The language is still being decided, and will be confirmed upon release of chapter 3. Thanks for participating, everyone! <3

[serenitys-alcove]

Historically Inaccurate (ch. 1)

PBSS!Cheong Myeong x Modern!Fem!Reader

Table of Contents Ch. 2 ->

Chapter 1: I Can’t Die on a Cliffhanger

You're hiding in the closet.

Why? Because there is currently a hulking man invading your house. Well, more like unconscious and bleeding out on your rug, but still. You're terrified, and rightfully so.

Twenty minutes ago, everything had been perfectly normal. You'd trudged home in the evening, exhausted and achingly hungry as you dropped your purse by the entrance of your tiny one bedroom apartment. Too tired to make anything for yourself, you'd grudgingly settled for a year-old packet of ramen, collapsing on your third-hand sofa as you switched on the TV. You'd only just started to savor the artificial chicken flavor, when a limp body fell from the ceiling and shattered your coffee table to smithereens.

Thankfully, he hadn't woken up yet, but that could change at any moment. And honestly? You don't really want to be part of the welcoming committee.

Now, you're sitting awkwardly in your cramped closet, curled behind a wall of hoodies and miscellaneous garbage you'd chucked in here when you couldn't be bothered to organize properly. A shoe is digging painfully into your back, and your legs are starting to feel like a colony of ants had settled in under your skin. Faintly, you can hear your favorite reality TV show still playing in the living room.

Maybe he's dead? You think hopefully, but then the implications of having a dead body in your apartment catch up to you, and once more, you devolve into silent hysteria.

Alright, alright. Think. Closing your eyes, you try to calm your breaths. The fog of panic clears from your head, just a little.

Your phone is still in your purse. Your purse is in the living room. Realistically, it would take you only five seconds to run across and dial 911. The only problem? You need to walk past the intruder. There was no other way.

This is fine, you nod to yourself. You did track and field in middle school. You'll be gone before he even realizes where he is.

Gulping loudly, you unfold your legs, wincing at the pins and needles that attack your nerves with a vengeance. Once you regain feeling in your poor limbs, you slowly slide open the closet door, grabbing a weapon (a bent wire hanger) just in case. Your heart is beating so loud it practically echoes in your skull.

It's now or never, you steel yourself.

He's still there, in the living room. Sprawled across the floor like a rag doll in a pool of his own blood and scattered debris. You don't know what else you’re expecting, but you flinch at the sight nonetheless. Dread curdles in your gut. That is an absolute fuck ton of blood.

The room smells like pungent iron, and you barely hold in a gag. Quickly, you step around the mess, practically leaping at your purse and pulling out your phone with shaking hands. Just as you're about to press dial, a large hand rips the device out of your grasp and throws it against the wall.

Your poor phone doesn't stand a chance, exploding like an egg in the microwave and clattering uselessly to the floor in broken pieces.

Your head whips up, staring at the narrowed pink eyes glaring at you accusingly. He's holding a broken sword. And it looks real.

"Holy FUCK!" You screech, stumbling back and reaching for the doorknob.

There's a rustle of wind by your ear and a dull thud, and suddenly you're staring at sharp steel, embedded about three inches from your face.

Oh hell no.

You scream bloody murder, kicking him between the legs, hard. He chokes, stumbling back sluggishly and spilling blood all over your floor like a leaking hose. Still high on adrenaline, you pounce on him, beating him with the wire hanger like your life depends on it. It probably does.

But unfortunately, your physical differences do not play into your favor. Faster than you could blink, your arms are suddenly pinned down beneath you, glazed pink eyes glaring at you from above. His messy hair is curtaining around you, focusing your attention on his busted face.

"Yeogiga eodiya?" He growls, and the only thing you can do is make a weird, choking noise. Is this how you die? You didn't even get to finish your show yet. You can't die on a cliffhanger.

"Daedaphae!” he snaps, and nope. That is definitely not English. Or any other language you can recognize. He only grows more frustrated at your lack of response, and a forearm presses into your windpipe.

Your eyes widen. Oh no no no no.

"Get off of me!" You thrash around. "Somebody, help!"

Suddenly, he pauses, looking incredibly confused. "Mwoya shibal...?”

You're breathing heavily, unable to move him no matter how hard you push. He's simply too strong, and heavy as a boulder. You stare at him in silent terror, watching as his unfocused eyes slide around the room, and then back down to you.

Then they roll up into his skull, and his grip loosens on your arms. Fuck.

You scream, unable to roll away as nearly two hundred pounds of sweaty, bloody man collapses on top of you.

****

Table of Contents Ch. 2 ->

Yeogiga eodiya? (여기가 어디야?) — Where is this place?/Where am I?

Daedaphae! (답답해) — Expressing a feeling of “suffocating” frustration. Can be used due to a lack of communication.

Mwoya shibal...? (뭐야 시발) — What the fuck…?

[serenitys-alcove]

Oblivious

PBSS!Cheong Myeong x Reader

You’ve never met someone so dense in your life.

This man was driving you fucking bonkers. It was like flirting with a stone wall. All of your attempts would just fly over his head like a gentle breeze, leaving you more and more irritated every time.

Give him gifts? He would just shrug and accept them, not thinking anything more of it. Laugh at his jokes and smile flirtatiously? He just thought you were being friendly! One time you were about to lean closer, thinking you finally had his attention, when he just completely turned his back on you to yell boisterously at someone else. Ugh.

But not today. Today, you were taking things into your own hands.

You’d planned meticulously, waiting for the perfect moment to corner him. Nothing would interrupt you today, and you did mean nothing.

Your target was propped up against a plum blossom tree, relaxing with a bottle of alcohol resting beside him. Typical.

His eyes sharpened in recognition as they fell onto you. A greeting began on his lips.

You plopped yourself right down on his lap, straddling him. The greeting promptly died as he sputtered in surprise.

"What are you—?" His eyes widened.

"Shut. Up." You hissed, leaning in, nose to nose with him. He looked utterly stunned, an expression you would have enjoyed if you weren't so damn frustrated right now. "You are the most infuriating person I've ever met in my life."

A strangled noise escaped his throat.

God, Taoists. You had to do everything yourself, didn't you?

Your nose nudged gently against his. Large pink eyes stared at you. His Adam's apple bobbed heavily.

"You're so lucky you're cute," you whispered onto his lips, before pressing your mouth firmly against his.

You felt more than heard his intake of breath, your hands climbing up to the back of his neck before sliding into silky hair. Your lips moved gently against his, lovingly tender.

When you pulled back, his face was red. Red red red, like a cooked lobster. You almost felt bad for reducing him to this. Almost.

"Do you get it now?" You furrowed your brows, breathing slightly labored. "I like you, okay?"

He didn't respond, too busy staring at you like you'd just reinvented the sword, eyes comically wide and mouth gaping. You wanted to eat him alive.

"You—fuck—what—?" He sputtered, finally. "You? Like me? Like—"

You kissed him again, and his eyelids fluttered, before lowering to half mast. "Mmmph."

"Kiss me back, idiot," you whispered against him, growing a little self-conscious.

He blinked dazedly, before large hands hesitantly encircled your waist. Then they firmed, gaining confidence when you didn't pull away. His eyes slipped closed, head tilting slightly as his lips slid clumsily against yours.

You sighed, cupping his jaw as he kissed you eagerly, jumping into it with an enthusiasm that was uniquely Cheong Myeong-like, teeth clashing slightly against yours. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leaned further into you.

Your head was woozy, filled with cotton and unbearably euphoric. Every single nerve in your body was buzzing like a live wire, his touch sending pleasant shocks through your veins. The familiar scent of plum blossoms invaded your senses until you were drunk off of it, eyes rolling back in your head.

"Cheong Myeong," you whimpered, and he went rigid against you.

Cheong Myeong sucked in a breath, pressing his head down into your shoulder as he hugged you close. "Mmm, fuck."

"Do you want me?" You whispered, tone melancholy but hopeful. "Cause I'm yours. Just say it. Please."

You wanted him. You wanted him so bad it hurt.

"You—" He started, tone irritated but he was still hiding his face in your shoulder. "You're seriously going to ask me that after what just happened?"

“Ah,” you said, a little unsure. Did he not appreciate your forwardness? Your grip loosened around him, arms beginning to fall to your sides. “Well, alright then—”

Large hands cupped your face before yanking you forward, lips moving fiercely against yours. When you broke apart, panting, he glared at you, lips wet and kiss-swollen.

"Who's the idiot now?"

"Oh," you said dumbly. Then, slowly but surely, an uncontrollable grin started to grow on your face. "Oh."

He stared at you intently, like he was trying to document every single emotion that flickered across your expression.

"Hey, you can't take that back, okay?" You beamed, and he was mesmerized. "You're stuck with me now."

He huffed, lips quirking up. "Yeah, yeah."

Wouldn't dream of it.

[serenitys-alcove]

Special Treatment

PBSS!Cheong Myeong x Fem!Reader

Cheong Myeong is in his 20s here.

A part of this fic’s dialogue was inspired by Not Jealous! By blossoming-mind-palace

"You've got to be kidding me," you closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Oyyyy," the drunken idiot slurred, face first into the table. "Anotherrrr!"

You resisted the urge to smack him, sighing deeply as you hesitantly hovered a hand over his shoulder. God, your sect siblings owed you big time for this one.

You gritted your teeth, lightly grasping a limp shoulder and carefully turning him over.

Glazed pink eyes lazily climbed up to your face before squinting. "Haaah? You're not Sahyung."

"You're right," your smile was tight, eyes staring at him without an ounce of pity. "If I was, my boot would have already been lodged up your ass."

He scowled at you, but it lost its effect when his gaze focused slightly above your left shoulder. Your eye twitched. Why the hell were you on Cheong Myeong sitting duty again?

"Get up," you ordered, flicking him in the forehead.

He only grunted, turning his face the other way. Your patience finally snapped.

Cheong Myeong yelped as your arms slid under his legs and behind his back, lifting him up bridal style. "H-Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like, idiot?" You snapped. "Bringing you home, since your useless drunk ass can't crawl your way up Mount Hua."

Cheong Myeong was silent, a little tense in your grasp as he stared up at you, like he couldn't believe the audacity to pick him up in such an undignified manner. Then, something changed in his expression, and he went totally limp.

"Oy!" You sputtered, pulling him tighter against you as his weight tipped. "Stop that!"

"Nope," he said, popping the p. He looked up at you like a damsel in distress. "I fear the alcohol must have finally taken over, Sajeo. Won't you take pity on your poor Sajae?"

"Y-You!" You clenched your jaw. "I will drop you."

"Nooo you won't," he laughed. His cheeks were red with alcohol as he beamed up at you.

No, I won't, you thought in irritation.

"Don't test it, brat," you huffed.

"Yeah, yeah."

He was surprisingly tame for the rest of the way to Mount Hua, only a few irritating comments thrown here and there to rile you up. You had to shift him onto your back to scale the mountain, and he complied with suspicious ease, wrapping strong arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his soft bangs tickling your skin, a small flush rising on your cheeks.

Ohhhh no. No no no. Not happening.

You chased away the thoughts furiously, trying to focus on literally anything else but the musky scent of man and pungent liquor. Oh, come on. This was Cheong Myeong, your unruly brat of a junior brother. You seriously needed to get it together.

The looks you received from your sect siblings ranged from pitying to amused as they watched you trudge past the training grounds with the resident shit disturber slumped on your back. You glared at the ones that snickered, shutting them up quickly. The message was crystal clear: he's my problem now, but he could be yours very, very soon.

"Hey, brat," you shook him, once you'd arrived at his residence. He didn't respond. A vein throbbed on your forehead. "I SAID, WAKE UP IDIOT!"

Cheong Myeong groaned into your ear, making you tense. "Ehhhh? Why are you being so damn loud?"

You closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself. "We're at your house. You can let go now."

"Hmm," he hummed contemplatively, before tightening his grip. "Nah."

"What do you mean, no?" You seethed. "Get off, you slob!"

"You would abandon your poor Sajae in his moment of vulnerability?" He gasped, scandalized.

"What the hell are you—?"

"I feel faint," he smirked, leaning around to look at you with hooded eyes. "Won't you help me, Sajeo?"

You ground your teeth. Counted to five. Took a few deep breaths, and one more to steady yourself. "Fine," you said, voice strangled.

You felt him grin against your skin, leaning his head against your shoulder. What a spoiled brat.

You carried him inside, closing the door behind you. The trek to his room felt ominous, your shoulders tensing with every step. It was admittedly strange, being in his private space like this. Almost like you were intruding, privy to a part of him you weren't supposed to see.

You sat down on the edge of his bed, still unmade, the covers hastily chucked to the side. You imagined him kicking them off impatiently in the morning, not being bothered to fix them as he trudged to the bathroom.

Yeah, that tracks, you thought with a smile.

"What's that stupid look on your face for?"

"Alright, off," you scowled, letting him go.

He mumbled something into your shoulder, before loosening his grasp and flopping onto the mattress in an ungraceful heap.

"Give me your feet," you ordered, rolling your eyes at his raised brow. "Don't be disgusting."

"Mm sure," he snickered, but obeyed nonetheless. You held his ankles, carefully pulling off each boot one by one. Then you tucked his legs back onto the mattress and pulled the covers up to his chin. When you looked up again he was already staring at you, magenta eyes unreadable.

"Just spit it out," you crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. "I can tell you want to say something."

He blinked, almost deceptively innocent. God, it was so unfair for a man to have eyelashes this luscious and long. He looked like a porcelain doll, eyes glittering like marbles.

"Would you do this?" He asked quietly.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Huh? What are you—?"

"For your other Sajaes," he interjected. And for a moment, you could have sworn that the haze of alcohol had completely disappeared from his eyes. "Would you do this for them too?"

Of course, you wanted to say, but something stopped you.

Would you? Would you really?

Your sect siblings had always berated you for the soft spot you held for Cheong Myeong. Perhaps they were right, and you had contributed to spoiling him rotten.

"Y-yes," you tried to say firmly, but it sounded hesitant, even to your own ears.

His lips quirked up. "Liar."

Your heart began to pound in your ears, the tips of them reddening in embarrassment. "What the hell are you talking about, you brat?" You glared. "For once, speak with respect—!"

Lightning fast, a hand shot out and grabbed your arm, causing you to stumble forward.

Fuck!

Your hands rushed forward to steady yourself, landing on a hard chest. Your eyes widened.

Oh.

"Hmm? Respect? Why should I?" Cheong Myeong hummed beneath you, cheeks flushed and dark hair splayed across his pillow. And the way he was looking at you—like—like—

You closed your eyes, trying to banish the impure thoughts from your head. You were better than this. Responsible. Controlled.

"Sajeo."

Lord, have mercy.

A large hand gently cupped your face, making you crack an eye open. You were silent as you stared at your troublesome junior, who was looking at you like you were the only thing that existed in this room.

"Don't do this for anyone else, okay?" He murmured. "Only me."

"Uh-huh," you said mindlessly, transfixed.

"Promise?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Good," he smiled.

Suddenly, you were yanked down without permission, cocooned in a warm embrace as your head was tucked snugly beneath his chin.

"O-Oy!" You flailed. "Let go!"

"Nah.”

[serenitys-alcove]

Concede

Tang Jan x Reader

Warning: sexual allusions. 18+ only.

He was staring again. Fuck.

Jan averted his gaze, trying to forcefully cleanse his brain of the strong, pretty Mount Hua disciple that was currently walking towards him—wait, what? His eyes snapped up at the sound of your footsteps, a bead of sweat rolling slowly down his spine. He straightened to his full height, hoping that he looked at least marginally more composed than he felt.

"Young Master Tang," you tilted your head, exposing the glistening skin of your neck. Your hair was messy and sweaty from training and he was definitely taking longer than socially acceptable to respond.

He nodded, greeting you in turn. Good, that was good. Looks like he still had some mental faculties in order.

"What brings you out here tonight?" 

You. “I live here,” he blurted out. Then winced. Internally.

Your lips twitched. “Yes, it seems so.”

Jan wanted to ingest his strongest poison. All hopes of making a positive impression on you withered and died, along with his dignity.

“Did you also come out to train?” You asked, then your brows furrowed. “Oh, did I take your usual spot? I apologize—”

“No!” He coughed, gesturing wildly. “No, you’re fine. I was just…passing by.”

You’ve got to be kidding me, he blinked. It was like his ability to communicate like a normal person had suddenly…disappeared. Why?

“Oh, okay.”

Silence.

“I was going to—”

“Would you like to—”

You both paused, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly. “You go first.”

“No, no,” he gestured for you to speak. “I insist.”

You looked down, rubbing the back of your neck. It was the first time he’d seen you with such an unguarded expression, and it was…causing a strange warmth to bloom in his chest?

“I was going to ask if you wanted to train with me?”

What? Train? You and him? Together?

He took a moment to compose himself. Close his mouth and all. It wasn’t very Tang-like to gape like a fish.

“Sure,” he smiled, a mask of polite deference. “I suppose we could train together.”

But as your eyes crinkled, it was like you could see right through him. “Alright,” you grinned back. “Show me what you’ve got, then.”

He did not shiver. He didn’t.

A few strands of hair were escaping from the careful style you'd secured it in, and already, he was having a hard time not getting distracted.

Focus, he breathed, sliding out his daggers. You’re the son of the clan head, act like it.

The first round ended with the tip of your sword under his chin. “Hey, what happened to all that passion you showed Jo Geol, huh?” You teased, lowering your blade.

Jan felt excitement climb in his gut. A small smile pulled at his lips. “You just got lucky, watch.”

True to his word, the next round ended with your sword arm pinned down by three of his daggers.

“How’s that for passion?” He smirked slyly.

“Touché,” you laughed, making his smile grow.

The night wore on, taut with tension as the momentum shifted back and forth. Push and pull. Almost magnetic.

You swung at his torso. He ducked, rolling beneath your arm.

There! His gaze sharpened. An opening.

He leapt at you, catching you off guard as you both tumbled to the ground. You blinked at the feeling of cold steel against your neck.

“Concede,” he grinned wildly, panting.

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, saying nothing.

Slowly, his grin faded from his face as he realized he was practically straddling you.

Oh. Hell.

The sight beneath him almost felt sinful. There was a flustered expression on your face, one that he was pretty sure matched his own. Sweat ran from your temples and pooled deliciously in your exposed collarbone. And your mouth—your mouth was parted in a cute little oh—

“Young Master Tang?” You said softly. He didn’t respond, blood rushing furiously in his ears. “…Jan?”

He almost groaned at his name on your lips, spoken softly and reverently like a prayer. He was pretty sure his face was on fire now. The warmth spread down his chest, traveling lower to his—oh no.

Reality dunked over his head like cold water, sending him scrambling to his feet.

“A-Apologies,” he rushed out, unable to look at your face as he bowed his head. “I’ve selfishly taken too much of your time. Goodnight.”

And then he fled exercised a strategic retreat. As he ran and leapt over rooftops, even the cold wind wasn’t enough to calm the inferno on his face.

Yah, what did get myself into?

Back at the training grounds, you were still on the floor, staring breathlessly up at the sky.

Shit, you thought, closing your eyes. He’s…kinda cute.

[serenitys-alcove]

A Little Closer

Tang Bo x Reader

His mouth felt unbearably dry. The hard surface of the wall was cold on his feverish skin.

“Tang Bo, explain yourself,” you gritted out.

It was too much. The proximity was intoxicating, it made his head spin. And unknowingly, you pressed closer. He was tempted to just break through the wall itself, but then he’d have to deal with his family’s bitching for like, at least a month.

“Can you—” he wheezed, red in the face and trying desperately to avert his gaze. “Can you maybe, just, back up?”

Please, he begged. For my sanity.

A hand grabbed a fistful of the front of his robes, and he nearly cried in frustration. You were going to kill him with this.

“You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been avoiding me all week? Do I look like an idiot to you or something?”

“No,” he rasped, trying not to look at your inviting lips. The ferocity in your gaze was not turning him on. It wasn’t—damnit.

“Look at me,” you snapped.

And…oh. He was so, utterly fucked.