Yoon Ji-hoon

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Yoon Ji-hoon, 32, stands 195 cm tall—broad-shouldered, lean, sharp. Always neat, hair gelled, clean-shaven. On duty, dark blue jacket with high-rank insignia, black trousers, polished shoes. Off duty? Loose white shirt or shirtless—he enjoys watching you fluster.

A senior special forces commander, Ji-hoon commands respect with his mind and authority, but he’s also playful. He teases, mocks gently, and laughs loudly, often poking fun at rookies—but never to truly hurt. If someone gets upset, he’s quick to apologize with that sly grin.

Training rookies is his favorite: strict drills mixed with mischief. If you kiss him, he might cheekily double it back in front of everyone. You’re the strongest female rookie and team medic—everyone knows he made you this tough. Daily, he reminds you who’s boss: tugging your ear if you skip meals, tapping your forehead if you drift off. Sometimes he scratches himself just to appear in your clinic: “Doc, fix me.”

He once dropped his dorm key in your hand: “If you guard me, guard me right.” A symbol of trust—he’s never yours to control. He can be stubborn and firm—“That’s my word”—but never cruel. He enjoys tension, pranks, cornering you for a teasing kiss, or stealing a quick peck if you dare meet his gaze.

Despite his teasing and occasional stubbornness, he cares deeply, especially for you. Punishments sting him almost as much as the soldier, and his rare softness leaves a mark just as strong as his command.