OH MY GOD THE LAST PARAGRAPH IM SOBBING

OH MY GOD THE LAST PARAGRAPH I’M SOBBING

hello, could you do clingy Seungkwan in the morning right after he got out of bed ^^

first request ehe thank u bae 😘😘

SUNRISE —⊹ seungkwan drabble

you were up early enough to see the sunrise. but seungkwan wasn’t.

as you pushed down to button to pour hot coffee into your siena mug, you heard slippers drag in the hallway, making you raise your head in that direction.

seungkwan was approaching you like a zombie on sleeping pills, his hands rubbing his early eyes under his glasses. you smile at his sleepy state and at how the morning golden hour hits him perfectly. he flinched from the light slightly and when he sees your shorter frame he smiles.

“good morning, seungkwan.”

“why did you leave me?” he complains and you smile down at yourself, picking up your now full coffee cup and moving to the stove top, ready to make breakfast.

“i couldn’t fall back asleep when i woke up the first time.” you explained, and was careful not to spill your drink when his weight suddenly laid itself on your own. you felt his soft skin bury itself in your neck, being careful to be gentle but passionate. his hug around your waist was tight as if you’d melt onto the pan you were heating up.

“i thought you went to work early without a morning kiss.” he whispers, “and that’s like breaking the law.” you laugh now, putting down the pan and turning into his body heat, wrapping your arms up and around his neck.

you give him a lovely kiss and giggle at his suddenly happy face. he brings one hand up to swipe some hair out of your face before admitting, “i’m not gonna let you go now.”

his grip tightens a bit more and you give him another peck on the lips.

“i know. you do it every morning.”

because every morning you get up early to watch the sunrise, and every morning you get up early to watch your sun rise.

## taglist: @hyeunfae @raevyng

when you're both too prideful and you're literally sick.

warning: OC is sick (obviously 😭), that's it? Very short word vomits to help me get back into writing🥲

Jeonghan hates this.

Hates how prideful he is and the predicament he's brought himself into.

Hates how you're not sitting next to him and how you're chuckling at something his members are talking about.

Still, he refuses to break and avoids looking directly into your way even though all he wants is to just pull you into his lap, buries his head in your shoulder, and reconcile.

Fuck. He doesn't even know what the fight was about except that it's gotten too much out of control.

And if he doesn't remember what it's about exactly, then it must not be that important.

So he's been looking at Mingyu who's sitting next to you instead, trying to see you without actually seeing you.

Chan is on your other side, and he knows he must've taken the avoiding thing a little too far if you willingly choose to sit by the one member who, quite frankly, you're still most awkward with out of everyone when the seat next to him was empty earlier.

"You okay?" Shua whispers quietly, obviously noticing the tension between his best friend and said best friend's girlfriend.

Jeonghan shrugs. He doesn't even want to talk about it.

On the other side, Chan asks you the same thing but not for the same reason; you've been a little too quiet, and you seem even more tired than you did when you stepped into the waiting room thirty minutes ago.

You hum though, smiling at him as you fight the pounding in your head. You had considered not dropping by today's rehearsal, what--with the fight with your boyfriend and the fact that you're sick, but you've promised him and the members you'd come and you're not going to not show up just because you're fighting.

Jeonghan frowns at your hushed whispers with the maknae; what could you even possibly be talking about?

Huffing in annoyance, Jeonghan quietly mutters he's going to the restroom before leaving the room. God, he needs to get it together. He's an adult, for fuck's sake, what's stopping him from taking your hand and apologize?

He exhales and dries his hands, frowning at the machine's noise like it personally offends him. Taking another deep breath, he promises to himself he'd ask you to talk after the rehearsal.

Too deep in his thought, he didn't even notice the corridor is weirdly quiet without the usual rowdy laughters going out of the waiting room. He was just about to open the door when it opens itself, revealing a very panicked Chan and Jeonghan finally feels the collective distress within the room, heart dropping when he spots you barely even conscious on Mingyu's lap, Seungcheol and Wonwoo hovering so they can move you to the now vacant sofa.

He rushes pass everyone to kneel right beside you, his head barely registers his members' explanation as he brushes the hair off your face.

"Han?" You whisper, eyes blurry and your head feels like a dead weight.

"Yes. Yes, I'm here, love." He tries to sound as calm as possible, clenching his jaw when he realizes how you barely have the strength to even hold his hand. "What happened, hm?"

It takes a lot of effort to even shake your head, and it almost feels like you're going in and out of your consciousness.

"Why did you come if you know you're sick?" He whispers with a frown, getting nothing but an apologize from you.

"Promised to come." You managed to murmur, though you wince every few words. "Was nothing but a headache."

Jeonghan holds the urge to call you stupid, instead drops his head to your shoulder and squeezes your hand in his. He basks in your comforting scent, his worry easing a bit even though it’s still there.

He can assume what actually happened; you probably downplayed whatever’s happening with your body and showed up because you didn't want to look like you're sulking because of the fight last night.

This pride game you two are playing is going to be the death of you both one of these days.

"Wait for the doctor, okay?" He whispers, away from prying ears and eyes as he drops a soft kiss on your skin.

"Han?"

"Hm?"

"I'm so--"

"None of that." He cuts, sitting up to see your eyes barely even open. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay."

Lover Boy | h.js

pairing ➳ commoner!joshua x aristocrat!fem!reader

genre ➳ regency era romance, historical, drama, slow burn, angst.

word count ➳ 8.3k

warnings ➳ for the sake of plot reader's surname is Jones ( just ignore it), might be historically inaccurate, arguments, some family issues, pressure for marriage, reader is mean at one point, wanted to include smut but it lowkey felt wrong cuz this was the time when showing ankles was scandalous so 🤷‍♀️

synopsis ➳ pining for someone like him is as scandalous as it can be but the heart wants what it wants and your heart wants him.

He's here once again.

You peek through the curtains, watching him park his bicycle before reaching for the bouquet of flowers sitting in the basket. He has brought tulips today, in purple, your mother's favorite.

Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest as you watch him from your hiding spot in your room, behind the curtains. You ingrain his beautiful features in the deepest parts of your brain, taking in each slope and curve with rapt attention.

As if he can feel your gaze burning on him, his head tilts up and he blinks, before recognition flashes in his eyes. He gives you a sweet, almost teasing smile as you've been caught spying on him and you immediately pull the curtains shut, hiding from his eyes.

Yeah, real smooth.

This has become a regular habit for you. Watching this particular man, this flower delivering boy every Friday and Tuesday morning just after breakfast, which you hurry to finish so that you don't miss him.

It's nothing but a harmless crush really, ongoing for about a year. It started on a rainy morning when you were out on the patio, watching the rain when he appeared, riding his bike, almost drenched from the downpour.

You quietly viewed him from your spot, watching as he handed a beautiful basket of roses to your mother before tipping his hat in goodbye and jogging back to his bike. Just as he was about to leave, somehow his eyes landed on you— a bored, quiet yet intriguing look on your face at the same time, and he held your gaze for a good few seconds before smiling at you as if you had known each other forever, before going on his merry way.

Something about that smile changed you from deep within. Whenever you'd close your eyes you would only see him, his crescent eyes, the crinkles around them and his sweet, comforting grin. It haunted you to the point he became your obsession.

You extracted a little information about him from your mother who gave you a strange look. But you couldn't be bothered. You had a frustratingly beautiful fixation.

And so it began. You spying on the flower delivering boy— or a man, given how solid his body looked under the puffy shirt. Days bled into weeks and then into months and your fixation evolved into something more. Something that tugged at your heartstrings, made you memorize every little detail about him which would come to plague your mind in the darkness of the night. Prompt thoughts that, if heard by your mother would put you up for an exorcism by the church.

Being the oldest daughter of the earl comes with both fors and againsts. Fors, being pretty clothes and jewels, carriage rides to fancy parties, respect and admiration from everyone, oh— and good food. That's about it. Againsts, however, there are plenty. 

Like being constantly nagged by your mother to find a rich suitor and get married. Like being cornered with plenty of such rich suitors whom you never find just slightly attractive. But the biggest one of them would be if you were seen with the pretty flower delivery man.

Your mother gave you a pep talk one day when you asked for his name, saying that you better not get familiar with the likes of him and instead focus on finding a man to marry and have children with.

It was annoying, really. So much so that you wished you could summon that stupid handsome man and kiss him just to vex your mother. Alas, it remained a wish.

Like most of the things in your life.

-

"Your sister is expecting," your mother announces as she carefully spreads pomegranate jam on her bread. You stop eating for a second, processing the words and then nod. "I'll be sure to visit her and congratulate her."

Even though it isn't evident on her face, you know your mother is over the moon. Your sister, the one 3 years younger than you, got married last winter and within four months she's expecting. You also know that this is what she wishes for you too and now the conversation will venture in that direction.

"Once again, ____. I'm telling you to find someone— "

"You know I'm not interested, mother," you cut her off, sipping your tea. You can feel her gaze burn into you as there's a heavy pause before she drops her bread on the plate and wipes her fingers with the napkin. "Which is why I've found someone for you. You know lady Downwell. Her nephew is an extremely talented young man with gorgeous looks. He is plenty rich too. I've asked him to have lunch with us today so that you may get to know each other."

The look of horror on your face matches your fathers as you drop the cup from your hand, sending it crashing down and he chokes a cough before blinking rapidly. Your younger brother, only 8 years old, sitting next to you, screams in glee while slapping on the jam spread on his toast, sending it flying, "Sister is getting married!"

Your mother doesn't blink an eye at the commotion.

"D-dear, isn't this a bit too sudden?" Your father starts gently. The woman spoken to glares at him. "Sudden? You know how long I have been telling her to find a suitor. She is well above the age to get married. If we keep going like this no one will marry her except an old, blind oaf!"

"S-still, my love. You could have told me. I would have looked into him."

"I have already done that. He is the perfect gentleman. You will see when he arrives."

The way your mother talks so nonchalantly, deciding your fate right in front of you without even bothering to ask makes your blood boil. You clench your fists as tightly as you can, trying your best to not lash out but the effort is in vain.

You stand up abruptly, sending the chair back with an ugly screech as you snap, "If you think for one moment that I'm going to marry someone you choose for me, then you are gravely mistaken, mother!"

She stares at you, horrified but before she can curse you out, you head for the door, snatching your cloak on the way. 

You've had enough of this nonsense.

-

Hours of wandering later, you find yourself in the market, among the hustling and bustling of people who keep sparing you second glances, undoubtedly because of your pristine, polished appearance. You try to ignore them, instead focusing on the beautiful array of fresh produce, their color so vibrant you feel hungry. You keep walking, passing by the stores of fruits, vegetables, potteries, bakeries and more until you stop in front of a fairly large flower shop. It is minimally designed yet stands out among all the other shops and before you know it, you're stepping inside, pushing the door open.

It is empty except for the huge rows of flowers of various colors and sizes and types, arranged in long rows on one side of the shop. On the other side is a counter with a chair, a reception you assume, in which sits no one.

Just as you are about to call out for someone, a man appears from the back door, wiping his hands with a handkerchief and as his eyes meet yours, your breath is stolen.

It's him.

The flower delivering man.

Joshua.

Your breath stutters as you blink, feet almost moving to bolt out the door, for no particular reason except your shyness. Though, he saves you the trouble.

"Hello, Lady Jones. What may be the occasion that has led you to visit me?"

"Y-you recognize me?" You whisper, a little breathless.

"Should I not?" He blinks innocently. "I deliver flowers at your place twice a week, my lady."

"Y-yes. I am aware." You murmur. He waits for you to say more but when he's met with silence he offers, "The reason for your visit? Does your mother not like the pansies I dropped this week?"

"No, I am... not here about that." You look around awkwardly, moving your hands in the air as if they will conjure up the words. "I- I was wandering nearby and... I came across this shop. It looked lovely so I came in. I had no idea it belonged to you."

He nods, seeming to ponder over your words. Then he hums, as if satisfied and asks, "Would you like some tea? I have passion fruit and camomile. I would recommend the latter."

"Um," you swallow, throat dry. "Yes, please."

Lord, your mother would lose her mind if she knew you were having tea with him. Which makes you only want to do it more.

He offers you to sit on one of the two chairs by the window of the shop while he disappears inside the door he approached from. Once alone, you take in your surroundings, cozy and warm, a beautiful scent of flowers wafting in the air, soothing your stressed soul. But the ambiance of the environment doesn't stop you from chewing on your lip anxiously because you realize that running from the breakfast table isn't going to help you out of your situation.

When you return home tonight you'll be scolded by your mother or maybe, if your luck is really bad then she has probably already sent men looking for you. The thought makes you crane your head and look out the window suspiciously.

"Something got you anxious, my lady?" Your head whips back to see Joshua approaching with a tray containing two cups of tea. Setting it down on the small coffee table, he takes a seat on the vacant chair to your opposite.

"N-no," you murmur, eyes averting his. He hums and you have a feeling he doesn't buy your words. Nervous to make eye contact, you instead watch the steam emitting from the cups and chew on your lip.

"I have to say, I am quite pleasantly surprised with your unexpected visit. I never imagined you would set foot in this shabby little place."

"It is not shabby at all," You frown. "It is wonderful, albeit a little short but it has such a comfortable atmosphere."

"I have heard you rarely step outside the grounds of your place. It is quite an honor to have you here."

"I— yes that is true." You whisper, wondering if he thinks you are a spoiled little princess. But you have your reasons for staying inside most of the time. An unmarried girl your age, a daughter of the earl at that, has people frowning upon you all the time. If they are not frowning, the ladies or their sons of the high society are asking for your hand in marriage. It gets annoying and makes your skin crawl, being spied on all the time.

"I tend to garner a lot of attention when I step outside," you murmur shyly, reaching for the tea and taking a sip. 

"Why so, my lady?" The man frowns, making you squirm in embarrassment. Is he really so dense?

"Perhaps because I am well of age yet not married?" You state.

A beautiful flush coats the man's cheeks as he blinks and lowers his head. "Right, of course. My apologies, my lady."

His reaction makes you laugh. "It is nothing to apologize about, Mr...?"

"Hong," he offers.

You smile. "Mr. Hong. In fact, apologizing makes it worse almost." He flinches, looking ashamed, "Right." You offer him a kind smile to make him feel better. He says nothing as you sip your tea and watch outside the window and you feel his occasional glances at you.

An ambient silence later, he asks, "If you do not mind me asking, why are you yet not married?"

You blink, slightly taken aback. No one asked you that question so far, never bothered to know the reason why you have always run from the bond of matrimony. He probably takes your silence as irritation because he once again flushes red and apologizes, "I'm so sorry, my lady. I keep saying the most inappropriate words."

"No, no, not at all, Mr. Hong." You set down your cup. " I was a little surprised, that's all. No one has asked me that, ever."

"Oh." He breathes, blinking at you in curiosity. You exhale and play with the strings of your corset, wondering if you should tell him the truth. Before you think too much, your mouth starts moving. "I suppose I want the love I read in books. I want to feel the longing, the passion, and the desire they talk about in the stories. I have seen many many men but none of them made me feel those things. They were too reserved or awkward, too haste or rude, or just simply wanting the privileges of marrying an earl's daughter. So, I suppose I am yet to be betrothed for I am wishing for that type of love."

He remains still, observing you with careful eyes, making you feel embarrassed. You whisper in embarrassment, "Silly, is it not?"

He shakes his head. "Not even the slightest, my lady. In fact, that is really thoughtful. I admire the way you think."

"Oh," heat flares across your face as your heart thuds loudly in your chest. "T-thank you." You breathe.

He gives you his sweet smile, "You are welcome, my lady. I hope you find the love you are looking for. I assure you, you will one day."

His words make the wave of reality crash on you as you remember that your mother has already prepared a man for you. You sigh wistfully as the bitter words leave your mouth, "I do not think that will be happening."

A frown mars his beautiful face as he shifts in his chair and peers closely at your face, "Why do you say so, my lady?"

"My mother has already arranged a marriage for me." You blurt out. It definitely is not the wisest decision to say this to an almost stranger but the burden of the thought weighs heavily on your chest and it feels slightly better to let it out. Joshua seems stunned as he has gone speechless and is now watching you quietly.

Moments tick by in silence until he finally whispers, "I am sorry to hear that."

You let out a dry, unceremonious laugh. "Me too." He gives you a sympathetic look before reaching for his tea, probably feeling a little uncomfortable. You don't feel any better as the sane part of your brain questions why you are dumping your stupid problems on the man you've been talking to for ten minutes and who is also the man you have secretly pined for.

Sensing that you should leave now and find some other place to hide till dusk, you shift in your chair and clear your throat. However, he cuts you off.

"Do you perhaps have someone you like?" The man asks. You blink, stunned at the question as you process your thoughts.

Do you like someone?

Yes. A hundred times yes.

It is the man sitting in front of you. The one you can never have.

"I...yes, I do." You reply, face heated. He nods thoughtfully and suggests, "You should let him know then."

"I am not sure he feels the same for me." You avoid his eyes as if he can see the truth in them.

"Then ask him," Joshua says like it is the most obvious thing in the world. "Let him know. Any man would be crazy to refuse you, my lady."

Really?

His words make heat bloom in your face as your heart beats faster. "That is high praise, Mr. Hong."

"It is nothing but the truth, my lady." His words are fiercely sincere. You watch him for a breath, letting his words sink in and then, do the last thing a sane person would ever do.

"Will you be my betrothed, Mr. Hong?" You whisper, so low you assume he won't catch it but he does. You can tell by the way his eyebrows rise and his eyes widen as the hand reaching for the teacup stops mid-air. There is a heavy pause in the air as you wait, feeling like the entire world has stopped.

And then, he does something you never quite expected. He starts laughing. A full on belly laugh as he writhes in his seat and howls in laughter, the sound echoing around as if to mock you.

He has a hard time catching his breath and when he does he looks seriously amused. "My lord! You have quite the sense of humor, Lady Jones! I almost believed you!"

Embarrassment and anger flare through you. How dare he think you are joking when you said the bravest thing one could imagine to say? Your hands clench into fists as you abruptly stand, sending the chair back roughly and glare at him.

Your reaction completely sobers him as the look in his eyes changes, replaced with panic. But you have reached past the point of caring. Utterly humiliated, you turn and march for the door, fingers working on fastening the clasp of your cloak. Just as you are about to pull the door open his hand grabs your elbow, halting you.

"My lady! Please, wait!"

Unshed tears gather in your eyes as you scowl at him, clenching your teeth to hold in the fury.

"You...you were not joking, were you?" His voice is meek and the look in his eyes tells you that he knows the answer.

"I—..." He struggles to find words and it's almost pathetic so you save him the trouble.

"It is all right, Mr. Hong. I did not expect you to feel the same for me and neither do I expect you to save me from my trouble. You asked me to let him know and I merely did. This should not be a problem. We will never face each other again so we can put this past us and pretend as if it has never happened." The words are hard to speak, especially since you are so close to him, closer than you could ever imagine being and you can see the specks of gold in his eyes, and breathe in the faint scent of flowers and mint coming from him.

And that is torture. 

So you free yourself from his grasp and bolt out of his shop, feet carrying you through the throng of people in the market.

You spend the next few hours just wandering around, crossing large meadows, grape vines, marigold gardens and so much more, all the while trying to forget his reaction.

You did not expect him to fall head over heels for you but the last thing you could imagine was to be laughed at. How humiliating. The more you think about it, the more shame you feel.

What if he has someone he likes? What if he is already betrothed to someone?

Oh Lord, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

Your aimless wandering comes to an end with the fall of dusk as your aching feet carry you back to your home where your mother's wrath awaits. Oddly, you do not feel scared of that, your heart already burdened with another type of emotion.

As you predicted, your mother is livid the moment you step into your house, sending the servants scattering away at her booming voice as your father tries to calm her down and give you a sympathetic look. You care for none of those as you simply let her shout at you and then retreat into your room where you curl up into a ball on your bed and lie in silence.

You don't know if it's the heartbreak or exhaustion that lulls you to sleep.

-

The next morning when you come downstairs, you find the house empty other than your father. Apparently, your mother and younger brother have gone to the neighbor's place for breakfast so you sigh in relief.

As you finish your breakfast in silence and the maidservant clears away your plates, your father emerges from his study and stops when he spots you.

After a beat of silence, he takes a seat next to you and gives you a soft, meaningful look that chokes you with emotions. "How are you holding up, darling?" He quietly asks.

"Fine, I suppose. I have accepted my fate." You reply, staring at your lap. Your father sighs wistfully. "I know your mother can be too much to handle at times but she means well. She did that out of concern for you."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"That being said," your father continues. "She should not have arranged a meeting without consulting with you first. I apologize on her behalf, darling."

You swallow and blink back the tears and manage to simply nod in reply. When he calls your name you are forced to meet his eyes and you can see the seriousness in his expression.

"You don't have to accept anything you are not comfortable with, darling. I know you, my daughter and I do not want you to move into an arrangement unhappy when it ties you up for life. I want you to think and I want you to make the decision. Whether you marry Lady Campbell's niece or wait for someone, I want you to decide for yourself and stand by it. And I promise to help you with that however I can."

The wave of gratefulness you feel is immense as you croak, "Really, father?"

"Yes, my child." He reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You take a breath and whisper, "I do not want to marry her niece. I am not ready, not yet at least."

He nods calmly and pats your shoulder. "Then you will not. I will have a talk with your mother later but ultimately you should convince her, make her see your point. It may be hard but it is not impossible."

You nod solemnly, a flurry of hope and motivation flowing through you. A thought occurs to you and just as your father is about to get up and leave, you stop him.

"Father, what kind of man do you expect me to marry?"

He frowns. "I'm not quite following, darling."

"I mean, do you wish for me to marry someone who is from high society like us? Or would you be fine if I brought home an ordinary man?"

He ponders for a moment before replying, "I wish for you to marry someone you love or at least someone who understands you, respects you and protects you." Then his eyes narrow on you, "Do you have someone you like, my daughter?"

"No," you murmur, because that's not completely a lie. Yes, you like someone but that person doesn't like you so it is pointless to mention that. Your father watches you for a moment before walking away and leaving you by yourself. You watch the blue sky and the garden from the large windows, yet your thoughts remain stuck on one particular man, who smells like flowers and hopes and love.

-

In the afternoon when you come downstairs, intent on spending some time in the garden, tending to the flowers, you realize something is up.

Your mother's scowl of disdain greets you at the bottom of the stairs as she stands in front of your father's study, her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.

You don't need to ask what is wrong as she speaks, "What did you do, young lady!"

You're baffled and it is safe to say you have no idea what you could have done. Calmly, you ask, "Could you explain, mother?"

She hisses, "What is that flower delivery boy doing here!"

"Huh?"

"Mr. Hong is here to see your father, wishing to talk about you, _____! What did you do yesterday? Did you meet with him?"

The ground beneath you disappears as you fall and fall, tumbling down into an abyss of anxiousness. Throat dry, eyes wide in alarm, you set sight for your father's study and take determined steps towards it. Your mother is horrified, calling for you to stop but you don't listen as you slam open the door to the study.

Two pairs of eyes greet you as your father sits behind his large oak desk, hand resting under his chin thoughtfully and Joshua stands in front, dressed formally, clutching his hat between his hands.

You open your mouth, to make some excuse or maybe accuse the poor man of lying but your father saves you from it.

"______, darling I'm in the middle of a discussion."

"But father— !"

"_____." Your name is uttered in a warning which makes you shut up and begrudgingly, you step back but not before sending your best threatening glare at Joshua who keeps looking at you impassively, no emotion whatsoever written on his face.

Just as you close the door, your mother is hot on your heels as she throws a dozen questions left and right. You try to block them out as you bite your nails nervously.

Your agitation carries you to the garden as you try to take a peek into your father's study but alas, the drapes are on, blocking the complete view.

What is Joshua doing here? Is he here to complain about you? Tell your father how you stupidly confessed to him? Or threaten to tell everyone about your actions?

Oh, sweet lord.

The thoughts overwhelm you and you wish you could fall to the ground and cry. You are too wired to do that but you know you will be crying later, when this handsome threat leaves and your mother grounds you forever.

You rub your temples in sheer worry as you pace back and forth in the garden littered with beautiful plants. This is usually your place of solace but right now you feel nothing remotely close to it.

This is it. You are doomed. You will still end up marrying some man you aren't interested in but now with an extra bit of shame and scandal.

The sound of footsteps wakes you out of your stupor as you whip your head to see Joshua leaving the house. You charge straight at him, hissing, "What on earth could you be doing here, Mr. Hong!"

He stares at you blankly for a moment before replying, "I think you and I both know the reason for my sudden presence, my lady."

His calmness bursts fury in your veins like he just didn't ruin your already ruined life.

"Are you insane?" You seethe. "Why would you tell my father about that? It was a mistake, alright? I know it was inappropriate but could you not have saved me from the shame?"

He remains silent, just blinking.

Oh, how you wish you could choke him.

"I— I just do not understand, Mr. Hong!" You rub your temples, searching for the words. "You always act like a gentleman but behind the facade, you are just scheming, are you not? What did you ask my father for, huh? Blackmail him for money? Threaten to tell everyone about my stupid confession unless you got paid?"

There is a flash of anger, mixed with hurt in his eyes that makes you shut your mouth. Maybe you went too far.

Shit. This only keeps getting worse.

There's a long moment of silence, where you two gaze at each other, you cowering under his hard stare before he sighs softly, "I believe it is best you ask your father. He will tell you everything."

He tips his hat in goodbye before briskly walking out the gates, leaving you frayed with nerves and slightly guilty.

-

Your father's movements are cool and calm as he pours himself some tea, definitely not looking like someone who had been threatened or blackmailed. Well, you just assumed that and the more time passes, the more you realize your observation was terribly wrong. Which further worries you.

What is going on here?

"Please put me out of my misery, father," you speak, eyes watching him helplessly as he sits down behind his desk and takes a sip. Humming in satisfaction, he sets the cup down and meets your eyes. There seems to be a hint of an amused curve in his lips but your disoriented brain could be just imagining that.

"As you saw, Mr. Hong was here. He had something shocking to say. Or ask, I suppose." This time, there is a full on amused smile on his face that makes your toes curl.

Holding your breath, you wait for your father to continue.

"He asked me for your hand in marriage."

What?

What?

The air in your lungs gets trapped inside as you forget to breathe. Had you not been sitting down, you would have tumbled on the ground by now.

You had to have heard that wrong. There is simply no way...

"C-could you please repeat that?" You are choking.

Your father smiles. "He wishes to marry you, my daughter. He came to ask me for permission. It appears you came across him yesterday and also professed your feelings toward him..."

There is a buzzing in your ears as your father's words fade away, replaced with an overwhelming wave of emotions. You are stunned, grateful, impressed, guilty and so much more that you don't know what to do with yourself. You wish you could cry but the utter shock in your system prevents you from doing that too.

When your father calls your name multiple times, you snap out of your haze and blink at him. "What did you say to him, father?"

A playful smile dances on his lips. "It's sufficient to say I was completely stunned at his bravery. He is a noble young man and I am thoroughly impressed and assured that he would take care of you in every way. So I told him I would speak with my daughter and that if she truly desires him, I will bestow my blessings."

Tears of relief and gratefulness leak from your eyes.

"F-father..."

His eyes soften, "You like that man, do you not? Is that why you asked me whether I would be okay if you did not marry someone in the high society?"

You nod shyly. "Yes, but I was just curious, father. I really did not imagine he would come here and ask for my hand in marriage. I just blurted out my feelings the other day and I..." You shake your head, absolutely bewildered until the realization dawn's upon you.

How rashly you behaved with him. How you accused him of things he never did.

You always act like a gentleman but behind the facade, you are just scheming, are you not?

Threaten to tell everyone about my stupid confession unless you got paid, no?

You wince as you remember your words. Immediately you stand up. "I need to go somewhere. Can I take your horse?"

He lifts a surprised eyebrow before nodding. "Send your mother inside on your way out."

You almost bolt out of the room. Your mother stands right outside but you push past her and reach for your cloak hanging by the door as she throws a hundred questions in your direction.

"Father is waiting for you!" You tell as you fly out the front door, heading for the stables where you find your father's trustee horse Bella and get on it.

Soon you are flying down the streets, Bella's legs gracefully carrying you to your destination, Joshua's flower shop. You can only hope he's there as you have no idea where he actually lives. Well, if he isn't there then you are just going to wait for him. You were a complete spoiled brat and you said some very mean things to him that you need to apologize for no matter what.

The market soon comes into view and a minute later you are in front of his shop where you get down and fasten Bella next to a pole. You almost break down the doors as you push them wide open, grateful that they open.

But inside, there is no one.

"Mr. Hong?" Your voice is filled with urgency.

No reply.

A chill settles into your bones.

He shouldn't be far away if he left his shop unlocked, right?

Tentatively you step into the shop, eerie stillness in the air...or maybe it's the imagination of your guilt. You pass by the reception booth and the displays of flowers and come to stand in front of the small door at the back of the shop. Seeing it slightly ajar, you breathe in the courage and give it a gentle push.

The door opens to lead you to a garden, so full of flowers it feels unreal. It is a burst of colors, a piece of paradise, and something so beautiful you could never imagine.

You step down a couple of stairs and put your foot on the grass, eyes taking in the huge land of flowers. With the sun slowly setting down on the horizon this feels magical. Walking a little further into the garden, you spot the man you are looking for, as he is crouched near the ground, washing his hands next to a pail of water.

Before you can stop yourself, you are calling out for him.

His head whips around at your voice as shock colors his face. You take quick steps towards him as he stands up and wipes his hands with a handkerchief, a sudden look of disdain settling on his face. You, however, don't let that dissuade you.

"The door was open so I let myself in. I hope you do not mind." You murmur, not being able to hold his gaze and instead looking down at the ground. The reply you get is a sound, somewhere between a hum and a grunt, increasing your guilt tenfold.

You have never seen him like this. His normal joyous self is replaced by this cold mask and icy glare. It makes you jittery with nerves as you try to form a complete coherent sentence in your head.

"I.... I—"

"What brings you here, Lady Jones?" There is an underlying harshness in his tone that breaks your heart.

"My father has accepted your proposal!" You blurt out instead of apologizing. His eyes widen visibly in shock and his mouth parts just a little bit before going back to the previous unyielding gaze.

"I see." Is all he says, frowning. He turns his back on you in dismissal and picks up a watering can to walk over to a bunch of marigolds. As he waters them you trail behind like a lost puppy, hands clenching and unclenching at his utter dismissal.

"Mr. Hong, listen—"

"I am glad you took the liberty to come all the way here and let me know that but I think you should head back. The sun will set soon." He states not even glancing at you.

You stop in your tracks, glaring at him as tears burn in your eyes. Before you know it, you yell. "Will you let me speak for a second? I am trying to apologize here, mister!"

He turns around in a flash and scowls at you as he snarks. "Well, you sure are not doing a good job at it!"

You gasp, a sudden pinch of pain in your heart as you take a step back. "You won't even listen to me!"

He spares you a glance for a moment before going back to his work and that sets the limit. You screech, tears of hurt and guilt and exhaustion pouring down your cheeks. "I'm sorry, okay! I ran over here as soon as father told me everything! I know very well what I said was out of line and I'm sincerely sorry for that! I was scared, okay? The things I mentioned took place before and I did not want my father to be blackmailed or humiliated, especially for my actions! But I was wrong! I was too quick to judge you and I should have known better and I'm sorry!"

You stop to catch your breath and wipe away the tears while he stands immobile with his back facing you. Getting the clear message, you spit out the bitter words. "I can clearly see that you have now changed your mind and I am not blaming you. I shall go and let my father know that you are not interested in me anymore. Goodbye!"

You turn on your heel, marching out of the garden and into his shop where you take in a deep breath, the familiar scent of comfort filling your nostrils for the very last time and head for the front door. Just as you grab the handle, a hand catches your wrist and pulls you back in a flash, making you lose your footing and bump straight into a strong chest.

The scent and warmth of Joshua envelopes you completely as he wraps his arms around you, one on your waist and the other cradling your head, holding you against him tightly. You tense up and try to free yourself but he only grips you tighter, burying your face into his hard chest and before you can think, a stream of new tears flows out of your eyes. You clutch his shirt in a tight fist as you sob into his chest, murmuring a continuous string of apologies. He shushes you, rubbing a reassuring palm on your back as you let out all the pent up frustrations.

When you have finally ridden out the wave of overwhelming emotions you pull back, embarrassment creeping up your neck. Joshua, however, gazes at you fondly as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"You shall do no such thing, you hear me, my lady? I am marrying you and now that your father has agreed, there is no going back."

You chew on your lips. "But...I do not wish for you to feel trapped in this marriage. I do not want you to marry me just because—"

He holds up a finger against your lips, shushing you immediately. The touch of his skin against yours shoots tingles all through your spine and you suddenly wonder how his lips would feel against yours.

"I want to marry you, lady Jones. I am no longer shy to admit that thoughts of you have plagued my mind for a while now. But I simply pushed them away because I never imagined you feeling the same. However, we are here now and I want you to have no doubts about my feelings for you, for they are the most genuine."

Your face burns with embarrassment as your heart flutters in your chest at his heartfelt confession. You realize he still has his arm around your waist as he gazes at you softly and once again, you voice out the crazy thought that pops into your mind.

"Will you kiss me, Mr. Hong?" Your voice is breathless as you meet his eyes. They go wider than saucers upon hearing your words as he quickly retracts his hands from your body, leaving behind an aching longing.

"My lady!" He chides and you can see a hint of red blooming in his cheeks. "I shall not defile you before we are—"

You hover on your toes and press your lips against his, silencing him. Just as quickly as you kissed him, you pull back, your shyness and nervousness getting the best of you.

The look of utter horror on the man's face makes you cringe as you look down in shame. "I— I apologize, Mr—"

This time you are silenced as he tilts your head up by your chin and kisses you, all warm and soft. His lips mold against yours perfectly as he gently explores your mouth, leaving you breathless yet desperate to continue.

When he pulls back, your lips are puffed and your heart beats so loud you're afraid he can hear it. There is a different kind of look in his eyes, heated and full of desire as he intently stares at your lips for some agonizingly long moments. When you are about to lean in for more he takes a step back, a serious look on his face.

"I meant it when I said I shall not defile you before our marriage. My control is hanging by a thread right now so please do not tempt me, my lady."

"_____." You whisper.

"What?"

"Please call me by my name. I do not like it when you refer to me as my lady."

He frowns but you can see he finds the idea tempting. "I do not think that it will be appropriate."

"Just when it is the two of us." You add, hoping to convince him. He sighs, defeated and calls your name softly, stealing your breath all over again. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead as he pulls you into an embrace, making you melt against his chest and breathe him in.

A while later, you remember that the sun has set and you are expected home soon as you pull back with a wistful sigh. "I need to get going. My parents are going to be worried."

Joshua nods as he reaches for a coat folded over a chair. "I shall accompany you." He states, already moving for the door.

"It is not necessary—"

"Nonsense. It is dark outside and I shall ensure the safety of my future wife." The teasing smile on his face makes you grin like a lovestruck fool and you happily let him accompany you home.

_

A week later, Joshua drops by your house, having tea with your father before taking you out for an afternoon stroll. You dress up for the occasion, putting on a flattering gown and doing your hair and makeup as he takes you to a nearby vineyard.

"How have you been?" He asks politely. A week of not seeing him has made you somewhat shy and awkward as you murmur your reply shyly.

"Having second thoughts, my lady?" He raises a brow, teasing. A pout forms on your lips. "I told you not to call me that. And no, I am not."

"Good." He smiles. The afternoon sun falling on his face gives him his ethereal glow and shamelessly, you wish for the wedding to come quicker as your desire for him continues to grow.

"Then what seems to be the issue?"

"Just things..." You trail off, unsurely. "My mother, mainly. She is having a tough time accepting this." You sigh, motioning between the two of you.

A frown mars his face, making you feel guilty. While it is true that she is still pestering you to change your mind, you have started to learn how to tune it out. You let her know that you were not going to change your decision no matter what she said and the fact that your father and your siblings were on board with you definitely gave you courage.

With your mother holding a grudge, you took it upon yourself to start preparing for the wedding. Your sister also came to help and along with the aid of the maidservants, it is coming along pretty nicely. The linen draper came by today as you finalized your dress and now that that is out of the way, you feel a lot better.

Joshua has remained silent beside you as you two continue to walk and you start fiddling, wondering if you've hurt his feelings. "You do not have to be concerned about my mother. She is just not happy with our... differences but I am sure she will come around." You reassure him.

"Does it bother you?" Joshua asks suddenly, stopping and meeting your eyes. "That I am not from high society?" 

"Why would you think so?" You ask, almost yelling. "I do not care where you come from or what your status is, Joshua. It pains that you would think so."

He sighs. "I am sorry, love." The pet name rapidly blooms heat on your face and it amplifies as he reaches to grab your hands. His larger fingers rub your knuckles soothingly as he offers you a soft smile. "I just... sometimes worry because I will not be able to give you the lifestyle you are used to. But you do not have to worry too much. My father may not be high born but he was a great businessman and I have inherited all his properties. He also left me a land—"

You shut him up with a kiss. He's taken aback and just as he is about to deepen it, you pull back with a teasing smile. "I think the person worrying too much here is you, mister."

He chuckles softly, dropping a quick kiss on your nose and intertwining his hands with yours as you resume your walk. "I shall try my utmost to keep you happy, love." He promises.

You smile. "I know you will. I shall do the same."

-

That night as you prepare for bed, your mother peeks into your room and surprising you, invites herself in. You watch her, a little confused as she takes a seat on your bed because she has been avoiding you as best as she could until now.

She fiddles with her nightgown for a while before heaving a deep sigh, making you wonder what bomb she is going to drop on you now.

Her eyes meet yours. "You are truly going to marry that man, no?"

"Yes, mother." You try not to sound too exasperated. She sighs, murmuring something about how you are stubborn like your father and then straightens up.

"You have to understand I am only concerned about you. I love you, ______. You are my daughter and I only want the best for you."

Your heart softens. You exhale loudly. "I know that mother but I need you to understand that Mr. Hong is the best for me. He may not be what you had in mind for me but I find him perfect. He makes me happy, mother."

She stares at you impassively for a while, making you anxious. Did you push her too far?

"I talk from experience, darling. My time with your father had always not been so breezy. The famine that took place in your birth year was not easy. Even as an earl, your father had to struggle to provide for us."

You know this story. That year the famine was particularly harsh, affecting the entire country and your parents had a hard time getting by with your older brother and you, despite being affluent.

"I know how hard times can get and I was married to an earl. I keep imagining the same may happen to you and he would not be able to take care of you and your children."

You sigh, letting a thick silence stretch between the two of you. While she has a point, you would rather struggle with someone you love than live comfortably with a man you despise. It would simply kill you.

"Do you regret it, mother?"

"What?"

"I know you had better proposals than father. During the hard times, did you ever regret choosing him? Having us?"

Your mother indeed had fancier marriage proposals as your grandfather was a duke. Your mother even had a direct proposal from the prince but she refused, choosing your father instead.

She sits in silence for a while before shaking her head. "I do not."

You smile. "Then there you have it. Life is bound to get harsh sometimes, mother. But we can overcome it with the people we love, can we not? You overcame the hard times and now look at us."

Even in the dimly lit room, you can see your mother's eyes shine with unshed tears. She watches you for a moment before a small smile appears on her lips as her arm reaches out to cup your cheek. "When did you grow up so well, darling?"

You smile, your eyes getting teary too as you shuffle closer and wrap your arms around her, tucking your head under her chin. She holds you in her arms like you are a little kid all over again, stroking your hair and gently swaying back and forth.

"I will ask him to come over for lunch, tomorrow. There is still some time left for the wedding so I suppose I should start to get to know him."

She doesn't need to mention who she means by him because you already know and a large smile sets on your face, making your cheeks hurt.

-

A fortnight later, you and Joshua were pronounced man and wife in front of all your loved ones. It felt surreal as you kept wondering how this flower boy became your lover boy so quickly and unexpectedly. Whatever the magic, you were glad and grateful.

Your husband later surprised you with a beautiful cottage by a magnificent lake just by the city that he had purchased for the two of you as a wedding gift. And in there, he stuck to his promise and did a great job of defiling you, again and again and again...

a/n: thank you for reading lover boy! if you enjoyed it please like, reblog and comment your thoughts! for more of my works, check out my pinned post.

wishing you a lovely day.

taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx @just-here-to-read-01 @sojohns @marksflute @paradigmax @rubyscoups @winniet @kmoon @knucklesdeepmingi @svtluvr17 (sorry to those who couldn't be tagged)

feeding my Jihoon brainrot for real.

GOLDEN —⊹ woozi drabble

— request

“you look breathtaking.”

you wiggled in your golden silk dress, skimming your fingers on the fabric and picking at places that didn’t sit exactly how you wanted it to. he didn’t even try to pry your hands away because he knew you were only trying to look good for him.

his arms gather around you in a tight back hug and he suddenly starts attacking you with pillowy kisses on your cheeks and neck. woozi’s dressed in a black suit and a golden tie, perfectly complimenting each other. you giggle before turning into his body,

“woozi, you’ll mess up my makeup.”

he continues to attack your face, “you don’t need it anyways.”

you laugh and glance in the mirror again, smiling at your perfect outfits and perfect boyfriend. he grasps at your waist and turns your head with one hand, a cheesy smile plastered on his face.

“stop looking in the mirror, it doesn’t do you justice. you look golden. literally.”

a warmth blooms in your heart, mimicking the feeling of heart burn before his hands trail to your hands, kissing them as softly as he did your face moments ago.

“are you ready to go, my beautiful girl?”

you smile and plant a kiss on his own lips, nodding as he leads you out of the bedroom and out the house. out to the car and to the party. he can barely pay attention to the engaged couple and his tipsy friends when you’re there, glowing as golden as you could get.

## taglist — @hyeunfae @raevyng

masterlist | taglists

they thought wrong ✩ svt bsk

pairing — Boo Seungkwan x fem!reader

genre — one-shot, angst (fluff at the end ?)

summary — you think too much, honestly.

warning(s) — a certain explanation might seem like a pathetic excuse but that was intended, Seungkwan being a dummy, not proofread

word count — 1.9k words

author’s note — thank you very machi to my friends who aren’t on Tumblr who gave me birthday presents 😍🫶🏻 including my dear dear brother who practically stepped on his ego to buy me a svt album <3 also very grateful to @hyeunfae and @piakae for dealing with my nonsense for the past year and five months 😜 love y’all

You thought he was avoiding you.

Ever since he joined Pledis as a trainee, your connection to him was cut off. He wouldn’t text you ‘good morning’ anymore, and he wouldn’t call you to catch up on things. You two lived in different continents, so you could easily brush it off by saying that it was difficult to find time when both of you were free for a chat. But when you had sent him a text congratulating him on his debut, he hadn’t replied for days. It was only a week and a day later that he replied:

Oh gosh I’m so sorry I didn’t see your text. I’ve been so busy with my schedule that I didn’t have time. I’m so sorry for not calling you nowadays. But thank you so much for congratulating me. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I can 😭

Even after the message, he didn’t call. He didn’t text you a ‘how are you?’ once in a while to check up on you. The little promise he made through text — he was starting to break it — except, was it that little at all?

You joined Pledis as a trainee after getting scouted at a train station. You had just got off your flight from England, where your parents were currently living. You hadn’t bothered to notify him of your arrival, thinking he wouldn’t even see it, and were stuck choosing between accepting the Pledis agent’s offer or declining it for the sake of your and his ego. In the end, you decided to accept it, darning him if you ever crossed paths in the company building.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you view it), you met him only once: when you were introduced to Lee Jihoon, otherwise known by his stage name Woozi. A staff of Pledis found out that you had produced lots of wonderful music during your time in Europe, and decided that it should be put to good use. You briefly met him when he came to give Jihoon something. You two barely had any interaction, save for some eye contact that lasted a second too long to mean nothing. Jihoon definitely noticed something between you guys, but was smart enough to say nothing.

For the next three months, there was no sign of him at all. He seemed to avoid everywhere he thought you would go to frequently. He wasn’t the one giving things to Jihoon anymore. But during those three months, you started to worry about when you debut — when you had to interact with your label mates. You tried pushing those worries aside, dealing with them when they’re important enough.

The tenth of June, 2018, had arrived. You debuted as a soloist and garnered millions of views in five hours. You couldn’t understand your fame, however. All of your social media accounts were set on private and little to no one knew Pledis had even casted you at all (not even your friends from England). You didn’t think much of it, though, when you met your dearly missed friend at Mnet the next day.

You had no idea that he would be one of the MCs. You didn’t know any of the SEVENTEEN members were MCs in the first place, specifically for Mnet. You thought he would be too busy to be posing as an MC, but alas, perhaps MCing was the one making him busy. You performed perfectly fine even with the thought of you talking to him being your confirmed fate in a few minutes’ time. By the end of your debut stage, the audience was cheering loudly for you, but now that the stage was over, your anxiety was slowly building up inside of you.

The interview didn’t look as bad as you felt it to be. It went smoothly. There were no awkward questions or responses, and he had a smile plastered on his perfect little face the entire time. It ended rather quickly, and you found yourself regretting not revelling in the moment more. You hadn’t had a proper conversation with him in years.

You thought he would refrain from interacting with you now that the interview was over. He didn’t have any reason to talk to you, and you weren’t really willing to hear him out for the years he didn’t text you. But he approached you when you were chatting with your stylist in the waiting room. He asked for some privacy, which was gladly given.

You didn't break eye contact for more than a minute. He seemed to have something to say but couldn’t get it out. At last, after what felt like an eternity, his lips parted.

“I’m sorry.”

Such useless words they were. You always thought they didn’t have any meaning, that they didn’t matter unless something was actually done to prove the genuineness. You shook your head and attempted to leave the room, but he quickly grabbed your wrist. You felt the desperation in him before you heard his words.

His voice broke as he said, “Let me explain. It’ll take some time, but I will explain everything to you.” But there wasn’t anything to explain. It was crystal clear that you weren’t important to him anymore — or so you thought. You were always thinking too much.

You pulled your hand from his loose grasp, a silent plea to leave you alone; but he was desperate. He didn’t want anyone witnessing your not-too-happy interaction, so he gripped your shoulders firmly — loose enough for you to walk away, but forceful enough to let you know his intention. You gave in.

He seemed to be lost in his thoughts for a second, because he was staring at you as if wondering if he should actually proceed or not. “I can’t do this here,” he whispered, sounding frustrated. At you or himself, you did not know. But what you did know before he voiced the words was that he wanted to meet with you to talk. You were ready to decline his offer when he interrupted your thoughts.

“Please,” he pleaded with you, irises filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place in your head. “Give me this one chance. I’ll make it up to you.”

You remembered those last few words: they were from three years ago, eight days after he debuted. You remembered it clearly. How he had ‘promised to make it up to you’ in that one message that would be the only you’d receive in the years to come. You wanted to walk away if it weren’t for the look he was giving you.

He was tearing up, then you realised he was shaking. He was shaking. He rarely shook in your presence. You looked him in the eye and felt like tearing up, too. But you held back the tears and said firmly, “One chance to redeem yourself.” Then you walked away and did not look back.

—

There was no need to decide on a place to meet up since it was already obvious to the two of you. It was always at a playground when you two made up for the arguments you had when you were younger and both living in South Korea. And there was that one playground in Seoul you always wanted to go to when you were living in Jeju. You thought he’d know you would be there. For once, you thought right.

You both approached each other at the same time, hands in jacket or pants pockets, wearing a cap but no mask. It was in the dead of the night that you both happened to arrive at the playground. You wondered what was in store for you.

He didn’t beat around the bush when you were in close enough proximity to hear each other’s whispers.

“I’m not one to manage my time properly, you know that.” Of course you knew. You’d been friends for years — ever since you came out of the womb. “I didn’t know when I could call you. Maybe you were busy with assignments or already sleeping, I didn’t know. I thought you didn’t use KakaoTalk anymore since you moved. I wasn’t sure of many things, so I waited for you to contact me instead. When you messaged me congratulating me on my debut, my members were around me a lot, so I couldn’t answer you without them teasing me. I replied when I was alone and could read your entire message.”

There was much more to come. There were three years’ worth of explanation to be done. You waited.

“Truthfully speaking, I was spending so much time with my members that I forgot about you for a while.” That you could understand. With twelve other members in the group, your chat could easily reach the bottom of the page. “I thought about you once in a while, but because my members were almost always with me, you were quickly drowned out in my mind. It wasn’t until you started working with Jihoon that I kept thinking about you.” Was he trying to flatter you now? “I met you that once, but it was too awkward. I thought you wouldn’t want to meet me again. The gods seemed to help me for once because I never saw you until just now.”

For four years’ worth of explanation, whatever he just said was considerably short — but it all made sense to you. He didn’t want his members teasing your relationship with him whenever he texted you. Having twelve members was surely chaotic and made his days eventful. And of course he would fear the awkward tension between you two — both of you had always feared awkwardness in your relationship. You never knew you would experience it.

You were too caught up in your head to notice that he was crying. It was only when he sniffed that you came back to reality and saw the droplets of water on his cheeks. The cheeks you’d kiss with platonic intentions as a form of goodbye. Before you knew it, your hands were on them, thumbs wiping away the tears you hated seeing. “Don’t cry,” you whispered, voice almost betraying you. “I hate seeing you cry.”

When he didn’t stop, you tugged him closer for a hug. A warm, welcoming hug that screamed “I forgive you” in all directions. You rubbed his back in smooth circles as he silently let it all out. It was funny how he was the one crying and you were the one comforting him. You thought it was the other way round.

He cried for five minutes. Even though you knew he stopped, you didn’t halt your actions you knew were bringing him comfort. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll do whatever for you to forgive me.” He knew that you had already forgiven him, but he wanted to gain your trust again. He wanted back that trust he had when he was younger and more immature. And, yes, he knew it would take another decade to regain that trust. He betrayed it.

He didn’t deserve your warm and comforting hugs. You gave him the undeserved right to claim those hugs whenever he wanted with two words which told him not to cry. The fact that you just gave back everything he’d left behind after his simple and what he thought was a not-good-enough explanation.

You pulled away and wiped away the tear stains on his cheeks that you could see from the moonlight shining on the both of you. Then you leaned in, lips brushing his cheekbones, leaving a soft kiss there. He realised at that very moment how broken he left you.

How much love he could have gotten if he hadn’t left you.

is it obvious yet that I’m experiencing Jihoon brainrot ?

let them see I'm yours / l.jh

pairing: woozi x reader pronouns: they/them, partner used in reference to reader word count: 1.3k genre: fluff, established relationship, woozi: *hates pda but wants people to know yn is dating him so he quietly sulks instead*. yn: *doesn't shut up about their bf woozi to anyone with ears* warnings: one tiny little kiss, alcohol mentioned, reader tipsy but barely mentioned or noticeable, a little bit of jealousy but it's more like annoyance note from fizzy: its short but I've had this in my wips forever and just wanna post something :( honestly surprised I'm writing for him before some of the others bc i thought he'd be difficult to write but i just love "super secure in his relationship but just annoyed when he thinks someone is flirting with you" woozi :(

masterlist

Jihoon didn’t get jealous often. He was confident and comfortable in your relationship, he knew your affection was only for him, but sometimes he could get a little insecure. You knew he wasn’t big on public affection, whether it be physical or verbal, and you had stated time and time again that he didn’t need to scream it from the rooftops for you to know how much he loved you. 

But there were some times when he wished he was more comfortable being loudly in love because maybe it would keep away the people that tried hitting on you. If he was louder, they would know you already had a boyfriend. 

But he wasn’t, so they didn’t. 

You had been hit on before, of course, you had. It would be absurd for him to expect people to stay away from you, especially since you were outgoing and obviously hot (he refuses to believe that's a biased opinion; it's simply a fact). He normally could brush off seeing someone make a move on you as long as you weren't uncomfortable. You had told him before that you found it funny rather than gross if someone openly flirted with you considering your relationship with Jihoon started after you pined after him relentlessly. There had only been one occasion where a stranger flirting with you had made you uncomfortable, but luckily Wonwoo had stepped in since your boyfriend hadn't been there.

Despite you being used to getting noticed by others, he still wasn't. He trusted you, and he knew at the end of the day that you weren't going to randomly dump him for the next person to ask for your number, but that didn't mean it didn't piss him off sometimes.

It was already an off-day for him, and he was feeling a little more bothered than usual, watching from the kitchen as you laughed at some guy who probably wasn’t even that funny. He huffed at himself as he leaned against the counter, annoyed at himself for being annoyed. 

If he was as affectionate as Mingyu or Soonyoung, he would go over to you and kiss your cheek or wrap his arms around you, pretending he didn’t know he was being obnoxiously jealous as he glared at the person talking to you. Initiating things like that wasn’t something he was comfortable with, and he didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you or something, he just wished people knew you were dating him. 

He glanced over at you for probably the thirtieth time in the last hour when Seungcheol walked up to him.

“Hey, Wooz,” he greeted, slinging his arm over his friend's shoulder. “Why are you moping over here instead of hanging out with anyone?” 

“Hm?” Jihoon looked away from you to make eye contact with Seungcheol before looking away. “Oh, I don’t know.” 

“Well you look upset and it’s bumming me out–” 

“Hey, Cheol? Is it… Do you think people know me and Y/n are, like, dating?” 

Cheol pouted in confusion before following Jihoon’s gaze to the other room, where you were talking to the same guy you had been talking to all night. The tall boy was looking at you fondly as you spoke and Jihoon couldn’t blame him, it was easy to admire you when you were ranting or talking or existing or doing literally anything. But why were you rambling to that guy instead of your boyfriend? And why did you have the biggest, cheesiest smile on your face?

“Oh,” Cheol hummed, understanding the situation. “Honestly, not really. It took Mingyu and Dino literally three months to figure out you guys were dating. I mean, maybe if you, you know, actually talked with them at things like this…” he hinted, pushing Jihoon’s shoulder in your direction. "You two just aren't super affectionate in public, which is totally fine, but if you want something to change, you have to change."

“I just don’t want to hover. I don’t want them to think I’m needy.” 

“But you are needy,” Seungcheol teased with a smile. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. But that’s not even being needy, it’s literally just spending time with your partner. It’s obvious you’re dating when you two interact, you both have the biggest heart eyes when you talk. But if you avoid them, no one is going to assume you’re as stupidly in love as you are.” 

Jihoon pushed Cheol away and huffed. “Fine. Now leave me alone.” 

As Seungcheol grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator, Jihoon mumbled a thank you for his friend's encouragement, to which the older patted his back affectionately and left the room. 

Jihoon took a deep breath and grabbed a water bottle as well so he had an excuse to walk up to you; as if him dating you wasn’t enough of an excuse. When he turned back to where you had been standing for the last hour, you had disappeared.

He frowned as he stepped past the doorway and his eyes darted around the room, starting to worry about where you had gone. He had looked away for just a few seconds, you couldn’t have gone far.

“Hey, Jihoon, right?” 

He looked up to see the guy you had been talking to. “Uh, yeah.” 

“I’m Soobin,” he introduced himself with a polite smile. “I was just talking to Y/n and–” 

Jihoon straightened his posture, prepared to hear something he didn’t like. Maybe this guy was about to go on about how amazing you were, not knowing Jihoon knew that better than anyone. Or maybe he was going to threaten to take Jihoon’s place or—

“—you guys are so cute together.” 

Jihoon raised his eyebrows. “Oh.” 

“I’m sure you know this, but Y/n talks about you like you’re the sun. It’s very cute how happy you guys are.” He had a very sweet and amused smile on his lips, seeming shy to compliment the older boy about his relationship. 

“You guys were talking about… me?” Jihoon awkwardly asked, pointing to himself. That’s why you had that look in your eye? Cute.

Soobin laughed with an excited nod. “Barely talked about anything else. I was going to ask if they knew where Seungkwan was but then they mentioned you and– Y/n really gets off on tangents when you get brought up.” 

“Sorry,” he apologized, but wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. “I think I saw Seungkwan outside a few minutes ago.” He was fully embarrassed now, he could feel his face glowing red. He grimaced and Soobin chuckled. 

Here Jihoon was, jealous and worried about some guy talking to you when it turns out the guy is not only much younger, but you were gushing about him the whole time. Suddenly, he was glad he didn’t march over to you and make an ass of himself.

“Hoonie!” you called, entering the kitchen and wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck just as Soobin slipped out, leaving you and Jihoon alone. 

“I was just looking for you,” he said with a soft smile, squeezing his eyes shut as you kissed his cheek. 

“My legs hurt from standing, I need to go sit down. Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm and dragging him to an unoccupied armchair. You sat down on the arm while he sat on the seat, wanting to give him space. “Why do you look so embarrassed?” you asked.

He looked at you as you started playing with his hair, admiring your bright smile even if you were slightly tipsy. “Didn’t realize you talked about me to random people.” 

“Are you kidding?” you laughed. “I talk about you to literally everyone I meet. There isn’t a soul I’ve met that doesn’t know I have the best and cutest boyfriend in the entire world.” 

He huffed as you pinched his cheek but he placed his hand on your thigh and gently tugged you down to sit on his lap before quickly pecking your lips. You looked scandalized and dramatically looked around to see nobody paying attention to you. “Jihoon! Someone could see us.” 

He chuckled and squeezed your leg. “That’s okay. If they do, at least they’ll see that I’m yours.”