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wheeboo · 3 days

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mine | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is the best thing that's ever been... yours. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. cheol, jeonghan, soonyoung, mingyu, chan - they don't rlly have dialogue tho lol) GENRE. fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. a very very brief shirtless joshua moment LMAO, implications of reader having a toxic ex, mentions that reader's parents have a rocky relationship and separate, kissing, terms of endearment, reader and joshua have a lil argument WORD COUNT. 3.6k

requested from @staranghae: joshua + mine by taylor swift for the 2k followers event please 🩷🎀

notes: i am fluent in this song!!!! whenever my love playlist comes on and this plays i literally scream lungs out!!! and shua fits this vibe so much <3

join the 2k celebration!

ONE. "i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts..."

Maybe you've always underestimated how the feeling of fresh air hitting your lungs makes you feel so replenished, free, like a single whiff blows away those gusts of worry in an instant.

Your fingers carry a tight, secure grip on Seungcheol's surfboard𑁋you volunteered to carry it for him so he could unload the other things from the van𑁋soft sand meeting your toes the second you step onto the beach for the first time of the summer season. Salty air tingles at your nose, the late afternoon sun baring down on your shoulders, and the expanse of the ocean opens up right before your eyes.

This place had basically watched you grow up. It carries a lot of memories that you hold dear to your heart.

You see Soonyoung already digging into the sand with an abnormally large stick, and Mingyu carrying a bunch of firewood in his arms before dropping them down onto the ground (and accidentally one on his foot, but you won't say anything about that).

However, your eyes drift and land on a figure running up from the beach shore. His dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, chest and arms revealed in all its glory before quickly covered up by a white, somewhat lacy button-down shirt that still doesn't do much in concealing the muscles underneath. For a moment, you nearly loose the grip on Seungcheol's surfboard.

Joshua Hong seems to spot you from even a mile away. He's running up to you before you even have the minute to breathe, a grin splitting his face that's as warm as the setting sun. Sand clings to his damp flip-flops and the hem of his black shorts as he nearly skids to a halt in front of you, chest heaving and out of breath. His shirt isn't even buttoned, dammit.

"Hey," he greets you breathlessly, letting his eyes take you in for a second. "Glad you could make it."

A soft smile of your own blooms on your face. "It's good to see you too, asshole."

A flicker of feigned hurt plays across Joshua's features. "Come on. That was so two years ago! I didn't want to push you in the water. You should know that by now."

"Wow, you care so much about me, don't you?" You nearly swing Seungcheol's surfboard playfully in his direction. "You listen to Jeonghan more than your own little brain."

"I swear, it's changed. Everything's changed since then," Joshua reasons lightly. "You have my ears for the entire night, I promise."

His words hang in the air for a moment, and there's perhaps a sliver of fondness in his eyes that you catch when your gazes meet. You feel a certain warmth spread through your chest that you try so hard to ignore each time he's around you.

You brush it off with a roll of your eyes before strolling past him, hoping that Seungcheol's surfboard was enough to cover up the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The smile to your face still lingers as you walk towards to where Soonyoung and Mingyu are, whom dash up to you the moment they see you to engulf you in a welcoming hug.

Mingyu is almost done setting up the bonfire by the time you and Seungcheol bring all the food and supplies from the van. Jeonghan and Chan had arrived by the time the fire is lit up and crackling, casting a warm, inviting glow on the beach scene. And it isn't long when the yearly traditions of a group bonfire and beachside barbecue commence.

The smell of grilled food fills the air, mixing with the salty breeze and the crackle of the fire. And just for those moments, you forget these fuzzy feelings swirling around you as familiar laughter and camaraderie take over instead.

You've known all of your friends for different amounts of times, but being here with all of them makes it feel like time hasn't passed by at all. Inside jokes are exchanged, memories from as far as childhood resurface, and stories are told that leave you all doubled over with laughter (and Soonyoung nearly choking on a marshmallow).

It's almost natural in the way your eyes seem to search for Joshua's every single time that feeling of happiness threatens to overflow within you. The fire flickers upon his face, his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiles. Happiness looks good on him, you think. It always has.

...does his eyes search for yours too?

By the time the fire dies down, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the beach, with your legs stretched on the sand and the waves barely lapping against your feet. Seungcheol and Mingyu are already out on the ocean on their surfboards, then there's Chan and Soonyoung struggling to get their sandcastle to stay up, and Jeonghan is already knocked out on a beach towel. It's just you, and wherever the hell Joshua is.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

The voice snaps you away from your thoughts, and you pick your head up to see Joshua walking up to you. A cool breeze flows through his strands of his hair as he approaches.

You blink at him. "What?"

He sits down beside you on the sand, close enough that the warmth of his body brushes against yours. "You were too quiet earlier."

You face back towards the water, cowering your head down as if guilty of some sorts.

"Oh," You murmur, somewhat to yourself. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Joshua asks, nudging you lightly on the shoulder. "I told you earlier that I would be all ears for you."

You smile faintly at that. Would you still be all ears if I told you that I've been such a coward with my feelings for you?

"It's... just boy problems, I guess," You respond, though you feel a twinge of regret for wording it like that. It's more than just simply boy problems.

Joshua's jaw seems to tighten at that. "Did that jerk contact you again?"

You know who exactly he's talking about, and you let out a sigh. "No, not him. I... I blocked him a few months ago when he tried spam calling me again. Sort of gave me a good scare, to be honest."

At the corner of your eye, Joshua's hand digs aimlessly into the sand, clenching and unclenching a fistful before smoothing it out again.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, gaze fixed on the grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "You deserve someone way better than him."

You chuckle at that, and a bittersweet pang shoots through your chest. It's true, you deserve better. But really, the problem isn't just jerks and bad relationships. It's the thought of falling for someone again and it all comes crashing down... again.

But it's not like you could hold back from falling when you've already fallen. The truth is undeniable at this point𑁋your heart already beats a little faster for the boy right next to you.

"Guys! Look at the sunset!" Chan's voice rings out into the cool, evening air, pointing an excited finger towards the horizon.

Simultaneously, you and Joshua bring your eyes up tot the sky together. The last rays of the sun are painting the sky in a breathtaking display of fiery oranges, pinks, and purples, like a fleeting masterpiece before nightfall takes hold.

"Wow," You mutter out in awe. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Joshua cocks his head to the side, a low hum leaving his lips. "Hmm, I could think of something more beautiful than that, honestly."

You scoff, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "You ruined the sentimental moment, idiot."

Joshua lets out an amused laugh, a sound that sends those flutters blossoming in your stomach, one you haven't realised you've missed until this very moment. A small giggle of your own escapes your mouth as you bring your eyes back to the sunset together.

Then a low yawn stifles out of you. Maybe everything that has happened the past few hours are finally catching up to you. You let out another yawn, hoping Joshua doesn't notice. But of course, he does.

"Getting tired?" he asks you.

You give a small nod. "Just a little."

A few moment pass, before you feel an arm drape casually over your shoulders. The scent of Joshua and his warmth seeps within your bones. You almost want to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, and you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Perhaps you could spend a long time staying in this position and hope the silence is able to spill all the words you've been meaning to say for all this time, but you know it's easier said than done. Because what's the point of confessing anymore if you know it won't ever last? That you know it'll ruin everything you've built up to get this far?

You've seen it happen around you𑁋with you, your parents, hell even strangers online. It's taught you nothing but to run. That's what your mind tells you to do, but not your heart. And maybe you listen to your mind more often than not.

"Yo, Josh!" Mingyu's voice hollers out from the ocean, and you feel a certain pressure be lifted up from your head (when did he lay his head on yours?) as you catch the sight of Seungcheol and Mingyu motioning to their surfboards. "Wanna hop on?"

Joshua briefly glances down at you, and you meet his gaze, seeing the indecision in his features.

"I don't mind," You tell him. "I'll be fine here."

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me." You pick your head off from his shoulders. "Go have your boy-fun."

Joshua gives you a small smile, though there's a hint of reluctance in his expression. He shouts back to Mingyu and Seungcheol before standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. You could hardly pull your eyes away from him as he does so.

He starts trotting away as you face back toward the ocean with a sigh, relinquishing the moments you get to have to gather up your thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You pick your eyes back up to Joshua marching back towards you. He stops in front of you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look beautiful today, by the way." Then he gives shoots you a wink before turning back around. "Just wanted you to know."

The kiss you leave to his cheek later on was really worth the risk.

TWO. "you learn my secrets and you figure out why i'm guarded / you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes..."

A picture frame of a four-year-old Joshua is staring back at you. He still has that same silly grin on his face, the one that has his own eyes smiling as well and makes your heart feel lighter every time you look at it. You reach out to touch the frame, tracing the outline of his little face with your fingertip.

Sometimes, you wish you could experience what he was like at this time𑁋to grow up with him, to know what exactly led him to meeting you. But then again, he's already here with you now, and maybe that's all that matters.

"All ready for bed?" Joshua's voice popping in makes you swiftly place back the picture frame back on his desk. You turn around to see him leaning against the doorway with a soft smile playing on his lips, clad with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Mhm," You hum out in response as you settle back under the covers of his bed.

It isn't the first night you've spent with him at his place, but you seem to seek the feeling of his comfort more often than sleeping in your own bed. Jeonghan has been kind of nagging you the two of you to move in together at this point, but that's a leap you're a bit hesitant to jump right now. But the drawer of your own clothes in his wardrobe is a bit of an argument that's hard to defend.

Joshua crawls his way into the spot right next to you, slipping under the duvet and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you more into his embrace. You feel his breath meet the nape of your neck, warm and soothing against your skin, and your eyes flutter to the feeling.

You shift your position so that you're facing him. His eyes are already closed, lips pursed up slightly, and even then he still looks absolutely stunning. But you know he isn't asleep. Not yet, at least.

"My parents had uh... another argument today," You confess lowly, hesitantly.

Joshua's eyes open up slightly, adjusting his head so he can look at you better. A faint crease of concern appears between his brows, the arm around you tightening imperceptibly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You bite at your bottom lip anxiously. There are times you feel as if the only thing that could get you talking is always something revolving your parents, and you wonder if Joshua ever gets tired hearing about all of it. The thought courses insecurity to crawl in your veins, tightening your throat.

But Joshua's patient gaze towards you cuts through the uncertainty bubbling in your chest.

"Just same old, same old, you know?" You attempt to explain. "It just feels like they can't see eye-to-eye anymore. There's like... I don't know... nothing left between them, I guess. And it scares me that... it'll happen to us."

The last sentence suspends thickly into the air. Even then, you know it's more than the truth𑁋you've grown up witnessing and overhearing arguments from your parents that laid down this pessimistic view on the world around you.

You could feel your heart racing from all the anticipation. There's a wave of emotions that washes over Joshua's face, then he takes a deep breath and squeezes you tighter in his hold.

"Hey," he mutters. "Look at me."

You hesitantly meet his eyes.

"We're not like them, okay?" he assures you simply, bringing his hand up to cup your face oh-so gently in his hold. "We may argue sometimes. But the difference is, we communicate. We listen to each other. And we may not have all the answers to everything, but we'll figure it out together, alright?"

You swear you can feel the way he's holding your face also on your heart, like he's protecting you in a way from any doubts that might creep in. A small sigh escapes you, the tension leaving your shoulders as his words wrap around you comfortingly. The faintest, appreciative curve appears to your lips as you feel Joshua's thumb brush against your cheek.

He dreamily smiles at you as well, despite his face being half-buried in the pillow. And the thought of being able to wake up to this sight every single day suddenly feels a lot less like a leap and a whole lot more like a promise.

Somehow, the gap between the two of you disappears as your lips meets his. He kisses you so tenderly, mouth moving against yours with a delicate urgency, and the tiny sound that leaves you brings that smirk you could feel forming on his face.

You feel almost dizzy when you pull away, nothing but a shy look gracing over your features.

"Feeling better?" Joshua asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

You could only gaze at him, wondering to yourself how he's even in real, how someone like him could exist with his sleepy smile, messy hair, and perfect features carved by the angels above, yet cherish you so dearly.

"Can you..." Your eyes flicker from eyes to his lips. "Can you... keep kissing me?"

It feels really silly to ask that, however Joshua just chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he peers at you with nothing but adoration.

"Of course," he replies, leaning back in. "Whatever you want."

THREE. "braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known / then you took me by surprise / you said, 'I'll never leave you alone...'"

The tears streaming down your face burns through the concrete below like acid.

"Y/N, wait𑁋"

"I told you that I-I can't do this right now."

The leaves crunching at your feet echo in your ears as you walk away from Joshua, each step feeling heavier than the last. It's around two in the morning or something, and you can't remember the last time you felt this lost and broken ever since your parents' separation. It's like the ground beneath you has crumbled away, leaving you suspended in midair, grasping for something𑁋just anything𑁋to hold onto.

You've been here before, standing at the edge of this cliff of vulnerability. It's easier to leave before you get left, easier to build walls than to let someone in only to watch them walk away.

But you've come to understand that Joshua isn't one to give up easily. He catches up to you quickly, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks. You try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens slightly as he turns you around to face him.

"Talk to me," he pleads insistently, and the subtle tremble to his voice has your chest clenching. "If you're just going to keep pushing me away, then𑁋"

"Then leave." The words leave you before you can stop them, fueled by the ache in your chest and the fear in your heart. "You don't have to stay with me when all I-I do is push you away. Don't you think you deserve someone better?"

Joshua's grip on your arm loosens at your words, but it doesn't fall. His eyes scan over your tear-stained face, the quiver to your lips, and all of it has you bracing yourself for the inevitable, final blow𑁋for him to turn and walk away like so many others before him.

But instead, he just steps closer to you.

"This isn't about me staying because I have to, Y/N," he explains. "It's about me wanting to stay because I love you. I knew what I was getting into the second I realised I was falling for you. So no, I'm not going to leave you. And I'll never leave you alone because I know you're worth fighting for."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through you like a bullet straight through the heart. Even Joshua appears out of breath himself, as if he's poured his own heart out to you in those few simple sentences. The silence stretches between the two of you.

With a quiet sigh and a faint smile, he lets the tension simmer down by trailing his eyes over you.

"When I look at you, I think... I think I fall in love with you all over again like the first time I saw you," Joshua admits shyly, followed by a sheepish chuckle to himself. "It's cheesy, I know. But I can't help it. It's hard not to look at you."

You feel the heat crawling up your face as you blink away your tears clumsily, peering up at him inquisitively. "Really?"

This just draws another laugh from him. Joshua steps closer to you, trailing a hand to cup your face and the other to slide to your back to shorten the gap between the two of you even more. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Really," he confirms, voice gentle yet firm. "I meant every word I said, darling."

This brings a genuine smile to your face as if it was the first one that night. You instinctively lean more into Joshua's touch, letting your eyes close for a moment to the simple feeling of him holding you.

"I'm sorry," You mumble, voice barely above a whisper. "for pushing you away like that. It's just... I'm scared."

Joshua takes one of your hands into his own to bring up to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.

"It's okay," he assures you. "We can be scared together."

FOUR. "do you believe it? / we're gonna make it now / and i can see it / i can see it now."

A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind, the relaxing melody of a piano floating through the air of the kitchen. You take in a deep breath, leaning back into Joshua's embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Smells amazing, honey," Joshua murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You smile contentedly, feeling the peace of the moment wash over the two of you. The enticing smells of the pasta you were cooking waft around the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and Joshua's presence right behind you.

"It should be ready soon," You say, clutching the wooden spoon in your hands to give the sauce a final stir.

Joshua's eyes arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he sways gently to the music. You hear the sounds of his hums hit your ears as you turn to the heat off to the stove. And as you attempt to pull away from him to grab for some plates, Joshua's grip on your waist hardly budges.

You groan exaggeratedly. "Shua, I need to𑁋"

"Marry me."

You freeze immediately, and you swear time halted right at that moment. Turning around in his hold, you're met with the sight of Joshua's eyes on you. You try to pinpoint any doubt in them, any sign that this is some sort of joke, but his gaze remains unwavering, dark eyes serious yet painted with a shine of hope that tugs right at the strings of your heart and the walls of your hesitation.

There's always that fear gnawing at in the back of your mind. But beneath it all, a warmth spreads through your chest, a certainty that feels as natural as breathing.

And perhaps, you see nothing but forever in him.

You can see it in the way his eyes soften, in the way his hand trembles anxiously against your waist, in the way his lips part ever so slightly as he waits for your response. You can see it all in him. You've made it.

You kiss him just seconds later. It's a question your heart has already answered long before the words left Joshua's lips. You lean more into his touch, feeling your heart overflow past the brink of joy, and the feelings all melt together into the singular realisation that he's the best thing that's ever been yours.

When the two of you finally break away, a single word escapes your lips, "Yes."

another note: sorry this ending was slightly rushed T-T

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi

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mingtinys · 11 months

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A Thorn in the Side

pairing : joshua hong x gn!reader

light angst , fluff , humor

warnings : language , jealous joshy

word count : 1.0 k

requested? no

a/n : can't tell if i like this one or not yet , but i really wanted to get something seventeen related put out !!

Joshua has never liked to think of himself as a jealous person.

In fact, in his own humble opinion, Joshua finds he's secure enough to not let most things bother him.

Some guy wants to buy you a drink at the bar? You're very attractive, it's bound to happen. His members compliment how you look that day? Good, they should, you look amazing. Your coworker is leaving secret love notes on your desk? That's fine, you'll still be clocking out and coming home to Joshua at the end of the day.

For all the attention you receive in a day, it's only ever Joshua who has the privilege of receiving yours. So no, he really doesn't have much need to worry over trivial things.

That being said, every so often, he gets a teeny, little, thorn in his side. The thorn in question being no other than Kim Mingyu and his abnormally large muscles. More specifically, Kim Mingyu's abnormally large muscles in regards to how uncomfortably close they are to you.

You were supposed to be bringing Joshua his gym bag he left at home. Something that would have taken less than a minute to do. Unfortunately, Joshua forgot to take into account the other twelve boys who accompanied him to the gym and had a knack for making his life a living Hell.

Mingyu stopped you the moment you walked in the door. Engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug and radiating a puppy-like joy he always seems to have when greeting you. But that's not even what did Joshua in. Not by a long shot.

It wasn't until you started giggling about how gross and sweaty he was that Joshua felt something indignant crawl under his skin. Your palms flat against his chest as you tried to push away while Mingyu only held you tighter. Also, why on God's green earth does he feel the need to be shirtless right now!?

And judging from the smug glances Mingyu keeps shooting his way, the boy knows exactly what he's doing. Joshua Hong is a patient man. But the urge to throttle Mingyu is incredibly tempting at the moment.

He doesn't even realize just how long he's been just standing there seething until Jeonghan pokes his head out from behind a machine. "Hey, ‘Shua!" He whispers and it snaps Joshua back down to Earth like a brick to the head. He's twirling a singular earbud in his fingers. "I can hear you grinding your teeth over my music. How much longer are you gonna stand there sulking?"

"I'm not grinding my teeth." He grumbles, a pout set on his lips. Though his jaw is rather sore and he has to actually make an effort to unclench it.

Behind him, Seungkwan snorts. "There's actually visible clouds of steam shooting out of your ears."

Joshua whips his head around and gives the younger boy a look nothing short of homicidal. It only encourages him. "What? Worried Y/N might see something they like?"

"No." He grits out. "I just . . . really need my gym bag."

"Ohhh, okay okay." Seungkwan nods, that same smirk never leaving his face. "Well, it looks like someone might have beaten you to it." Another fit of middle-school-girl giggles erupts between Seungkwan and Jeonghan.

And sure enough, when Joshua returns his attention back to you, a second “thorn” has somehow also found its way over. Lee Chan. "Here, that looks heavy, let me help you," he says, taking the bag from your shoulder, chest puffed and smile toothy. He curls it the way one would a kettlebell, toned and sweaty arms glistening in all their nauseating glory. Seriously, who even flexes like that when picking up a bag? It's just tacky.

That's about all Joshua can stomach for much longer. He can feel the once tiny thorns morphing into jagged claws. Some awful green-eyed beast tearing at his stomach from the inside out. And while he knows he really shouldn't take the bait, he just can’t help it.

He beelines it across the room, walking to where you and his victims members are at a lightning-fast speed. Joshua musters up a sickeningly sweet smile and clears his throat. Mingyu and Chan look at him like they know they're in trouble.

But then your eyes light up at the mere sight of him, and all thoughts he had of ripping Mingyu and Chan a new one fizzle out all too easily. You push past the two boys without another glance in their direction, and a smile only he's capable of evoking plays at your lips.

"Hey, you." You greet him with a peck and the exaggerated gags that fill the room make his chest fill moreso with pride than embarrassment. Your hand slips just under the hem of his shirt, letting your palm lay against his stomach. There it is. That feeling of security. Of trust. Warmth. You lean back slightly and Joshua lets his impulsivity win when he chases your lips for one last reassuring kiss.

"Thank you for bringing my bag."

You hum, threading your fingers through his damp hair, combing it back. "I don't mind. I actually think you need to forget your bag more often."

Joshua tilts his head innocently. He's thrown off guard when you lean in, palm pressing harder against his stomach, and your lips ghost the shell of his ear. Voice low enough so that his members won't hear, which he's thankful for. "You're really hot when you're all sweaty and jealous."

Joshua cringes. "Was it that obvious?"

"Seungkwan's voice carries."

He feels a little stupid now for ever getting so worked up in the first place. His head drops with embarrassment, causing you to giggle. "Hey," you poke at his forehead so he'll look at you. "You know I only have eyes for you, right?" You sound a little more serious this time.

"Yeah, I know."

"Good."

"Hey, hyung," Chan calls, still behind you. "Can you take your bag now? It's actually kind of heavy."

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #joshua hong #hong jisoo #seventeen x you #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong x you #joshua x reader #hong jisoo x reader #hong jisoo x you #hong jisoo imagines #joshua hong imagines #seventeen joshua

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jeonstellate · 9 months

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in the dark: dusk

you ask the moon for an impossible before your inevitable marriage to an utter stranger.

๑彡 hong jisoo x afab!reader

๑彡 strangers-to-lovers!au, arranged marriage!au — angst(?), fluff

๑彡 paragraph format — 1.8K words

masterlist | in the dark: dawn

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from bobby’s in the dark.

๑彡 this is the first half of the two-shot, in the dark. you can find the link to the next part above :]

You had always known your marriage would be arranged by your parents. In a time where marriages were used as a form alliance between clans rather than a form of union between lovers, you never dared to hope that your marriage would be bound by love.

However, that particular knowledge didn’t prevent you from craving to experience how genuine romantic love feels like.

Hence your decision to sit by a tree just behind your village long after the sun had set. You weren’t waiting for a miracle, but you’d be lying if you say you weren’t hoping for one.

Under the pale moonlight, the cloak of darkness concealed the tears that the sun could not shine upon. Under the pale moonlight, you wordlessly wish for something that can never be.

But never did you expect for the moon to answer.

"May I know the reason for your tears, my lady?" A voice, soft and careful, suddenly filled the silence of the night. Although its appearance was unexpected, it miraculously didn’t startle you — as though, somehow, you had known.

You kept facing the moon as you answer, almost as if you were conversing with her rather than whoever just arrived. "Just trivial matters."

"Perhaps so, but you obviously care about it a great deal." The presence behind you felt closer, but still remained at a respectable distance.

"But I shouldn’t," you sighed. "There are dangers in dwelling on matters that are out of my control."

"But there are also dangers in bottling your feelings in, my lady," the person gently reminded you.

Silence then engulfed the two of you — which felt comfortable despite not knowing who exactly you were conversing with. The voiced words settled between the two of you, gradually creating something that could either build or destroy any relation that might form.

"I don’t know if I should trust you with my thoughts," you thoughtfully said after a while. "I don’t know who you are."

Your companion hummed in acknowledgment, "You can think of me as a shadow, if you wish."

"Why so?"

"You cannot confirm my existence until you look at me."

You started laughing. "I can very well just turn and confirm it promptly, my lord."

"Respectfully, my lady, but I advice against it," he replied almost immediately. "Please take comfort in knowing I am a stranger that cannot judge you based on anything you do not personally share — as I will with you."

You thought his advice through. Although you were concerned about revealing too much to an utter stranger, you couldn’t deny that he had a point. You live in a small village, after all — one way or another, everyone always hear about one family’s business and discuss them freely like it’s their own.

Every family in your village has their own reputation — which ultimately decides the esteem people regard each family with. If he doesn’t know how you look like, nor what your name is, then he can’t judge you based on the reputation of your family — nor can you have the fear of tainting your family’s reputation with each information you choose to disclose.

"Perhaps you are right," you agreed after a few moments of silence. "Though I do think you should just address me as Night from here on forward."

"Wonderful. Then, you can call me Suho."

You and Suho continued conversing the night away. Although he eventually chose to situate himself near you (after asking for consent), neither of you faced each other. You remained facing the sky, with your left arm millimeters away from the tree trunk and your back facing your village. Him, on the other hand, had his back against the tree trunk, his body facing your village, with his left arm inches away from yours.

"So what brings you in the dark like this?" Suho started the conversation after having enough of the silence.

"I wanted to make a wish to the moon," you replied eventually after pondering upon how you should indulge his inquiry.

"You must’ve wished so earnestly that tears spilled down your cheeks."

His comment earned an almost soundless chuckle from you. "On the contrary," you started, "those were desperate tears from wishing the impossible."

"I’m afraid I don’t follow, my lady," you heard him shift his position, but the sound of his voice remained in the same distance.

"My parents have found me someone to marry," you said slowly as you thought about whether or not saying so would give away your identity, "but I wanted to experience having a lover first before I’m bounded to someone I have yet to meet."

Suho, in contrast to your obvious hesitancy, was quick to react. "I can be your lover, my lady, if you will allow me."

"I beg your pardon?" You stuttered in disbelief. "You shouldn’t utter words you don’t mean, my lord."

"I do mean them," he quickly insisted.

"How can you?" You expressed your doubt, "Surely there must already be a lady waiting for you back home?"

"I assure you, my lady, you shall be my only one."

You couldn’t reply right away — not because you were thinking his reply over, but because his response made you flustered. "Then, I suppose you would not mind courting me?"

Just like he had been doing throughout the night, Suho’s response came almost immediately. "I would court you as long as you wish."

You and Suho continued to meet with the moon being your only witness. During those nights, you would converse about anything your hearts desired. Slowly, but surely, then, you both learned parts of what composed each other’s constellations.

True to his word, Suho did court you every night that you met. He would alternate between telling you compliments, giving you flowers, writing you some poetry, or a combination of acts.

In return, to show your appreciation, you reciprocated his efforts in ways you knew how.

"Yes," you agreed out of the blue on the night of a full moon.

"Pardon?"

"Yes," you repeated, "I am now accepting you as my beau."

You and Suho had an agreement, beginning that first night when your peculiar arrangement was made. You both agreed, under no circumstances, would you try to catch a glimpse of each other’s faces. Thus, whenever you two met, you both ensured that you two were positioned in such a way that no one wouldn’t see the other’s face.

And somehow, you two still found a way to bask in each other’s warmth without breaking your agreement. "Thank you," you heard him murmur by your ear. "Thank you for trusting me."

You shook your head in denial, a smile ghosting your lips. "Thank you for coming into my life."

The word ‘bliss’ wouldn’t be enough to describe how you felt the following nights. Suho had always been sweet, but he became even sweeter after he became your beau.

Like he had already done, Suho had brought you flowers, written you poetry, and showered you with words of affirmation. On top of all of those, he occasionally brought you handmade gifts as well.

Despite already being your significant other, Suho still went out of his way to court you — even after you told him that he could stop. He claimed that it made him happy, as it never failed to make you happy, so you just let him do what he pleased.

"Have you ever thought about children?" You asked Suho one night as you lie on his chest, facing the moon.

Even with your improved status, you and Suho came to a consensus that you should uphold your previous agreement of keeping your true identities a secret from one another. Especially with your deepening relationship, it was crucial not to display any awkwardness nor unusual behavior if ever you two meet under the sun — to keep the eagle-eyed gossipers of your village from talking.

"Well, I am now," he answered before resting his hand on your hip, by your stomach. "Why?"

You two often talked about whatever came to mind, especially if you had finished filling each other about any shareable events that happened during the day. Albeit you both had nothing against silence, you liked to spend your limited time getting to know each other instead.

"As I look into the sky, I suddenly remembered how I took inspiration from it when I was unentertained enough to think of baby names."

You heard Suho let out an intrigued sound, "Let’s hear them, then."

"Hyewol for a girl, Hyeseong for a boy," you answered nonchalantly. "I also thought Chaewol, Seonghwa, and Haneul could be good to use as well."

Suho started murmuring to himself. Despite your proximity, you still couldn’t quite catch the entirety of what he was saying. However, you could’ve sworn that you heard the names you just mentioned being mixed in.

"What are you—?"

"Just testing how the names sound with my last name," he replied as nonchalant as you were then. However, with such simple words, you couldn’t help but to feel your cheeks flush. "So, five kids?"

"I," you stopped, suddenly not trusting yourself to speak. Nevertheless, after a moment, you managed to collect yourself. "Only if it’s with you."

You both knew, with your looming engagement, that that was a future out of your reach. It was a someday that could only exist under the cloak of the moon’s light, never to be touched by the sun’s rays.

And yet, despite that, you and Suho still dared to dream.

You knew this day would come, even before you crossed paths with Suho. In retrospect, this day was literally the reason why you met Suho in the first place. Had you not been crying that pivotal night about this particular day, you probably wouldn’t have him by your side at all.

Unfortunately, even your set up with Suho did nothing for the dreaded day.

"[First name], dear, come here for a minute," your mother called you over from your little corner with your cousins.

Today was her birthday and, to celebrate, she held a banquet in her honor — only inviting those that she truly got along with to keep the event drama-free. Not even her side of the family was in complete attendance, as some — if not most — of them clashed with one another over trivial matters.

It was your mother’s day, so you never thought it would double as the day you finally met your fiancé.

"[First name], this is Joshua," you mother started with an abnormally large smile etched on her face, "your fiancé."

You tried not to visibly freeze. As much as Suho was supposed to assist you to get ready for your married life, you weren’t ready to meet the person you were expected to spend the rest of your life with. Especially not when you already began wishing that your husband-to-be was Suho instead.

Joshua reached for your hand and kissed the back. "It’s my pleasure to be your acquaintance, my lady. I am Joshua Hong."

#hong jisoo x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #hong jisoo imagines #joshua imagines #seventeen imagines #hong jisoo scenarios #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #hong jisoo oneshots #joshua oneshots #seventeen oneshots #strangers-to-lovers!au #arranged marriage!au #hong jisoo #joshua #seventeen

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onlymingyus · 1 year

Text

laundry day

cw; joshua hong x afab reader - smut (minor dni), oral (f receiving), fingering, biting, mention of punishment, teasing, orgasm denial

a/n; the header is edited by me @chogiwapadada - do not use/edit/repost/remove my watermark

imagine finding yourself on your washer with joshua's head between your thighs. his pretty lips and tongue moving over your folds while he glances up at you. your hands pushing through his soft hair all while you try very hard to keep your thighs apart like he told you to.

you had found him working on laundry and found it all so domestic and sweet. not to mention it was sexy to see him like that. his arm flexing, his t-shirt stretching around his biceps as he leaned to pick up the laundry sorting out the colors from the darker clothes.

you knew what you had been doing when you had went in to "help him". you were wearing a low cut sundress, his favorite. the hem just above your knees until you bent over to pick up a smaller pile of laundry so very "innocently" in front of him. his groan barely audible but it had been enough to let you know you had the effect you had wanted.

now you were the one moaning and whining as the machine rocked under you only making the pleasure joshua was giving you that more intense. "shua...please...more?" you watch the lines around his eyes tighten slightly as he smiles against your skin. a soft kiss pressed to your thigh before you whine out his name feeling him bite the same spot.

he uses his large hands to push you back down on the machine when you lift your hips trying to chase his mouth when he leans up to meet your eyes. "more? more like this?" joshua watches you nod frantically when he slides two fingers into your dripping pussy stretching you so deliciously around them.

"my pretty baby is making such a mess." you listen to him tsk at you while his other hand rubs circles on your thigh, his fingers massaging your walls so perfectly. "open your eyes, I thought you were here to help. so listen carefully angel."

you meet his eyes only to watch him leaning back down to rest between your legs. his tongue darting out to run a circle around your clit before he leans back to speak again while you whine. "delicious...I'm going to enjoy my snack while this load of laundry runs. you are going to watch me do it and you aren't going to cum until the rinse cycle."

when you start to complain, joshua simply smirks and nods along with your words before leaning to bite at your thigh again. "don't be a brat again. that's what got you here in the first place. leaning over in front of me, rubbing your ass against me while you were loading the machine. teasing me then acting dumb..."

your tongue darts across your lips while joshua watches you come to terms with your punishment before he smirks at you and raises a brow. "good girls say thank you when they get what they want don't they?" his fingers hit you deep making you moan loudly as you say, "thank you shua!"

"you're welcome angel. now if you'll excuse me I have a snack to enjoy." your fingers run through his hair, your thighs quivering while you try to hold yourself back from the feeling of your orgasm building. his lips wrapped around your clit while he moans, his fingers curling against your spot all while you watch like his good girl.

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please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥

#joshua smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #svthub #joshua hong smut #joshua imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #joshua hong imagines #hong jisoo smut #hong jisoo imagines #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #joshua hong x reader #hong jisoo x reader

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dirtysvthoughts · 10 months

Text

𝓟 𝓡 𝓘 𝓥 𝓐 𝓣 𝓔 𝓓 𝓐 𝓝 𝓒 𝓔 𝓡 - CHAPTER THREE

pairing: prospective club owner! joshua x stripper! reader

word count: 2.2k

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, worldbuilding before the dirty stuff (be patient 😉), female! reader, mildly cocky! shua, dom! shua, power play/brat! reader, full nudity for reader, use of pet names (love, baby, sweetheart), shua tries to get reader to fall for him but to no avail (or yes avail?)

playlist songs: special affair - the internet, give me head - sweet the kid, na na - trey songz

notes: chapter 3 baybeeeee! sorry this took so long, but it’s finally here! i’m gonna start working on chapter 4 and that should be done vv soon! hope you enjoy besties!

taglist: @im-gemmy @enhacolor @hooniewnderland @svtup @kawaiikels @weeevrse @diorsfxck @kyexvly @woozarts @ifuckcheol @marsstarxhwa @haoxiaoba

“and i’m telling you, i don’t need any help, take your service elsewhere,” your boss, mia, says over the phone, curtly hanging it up afterwards. “fucking nuisance,” she mumbles under her breath as you enter her office.

“somethin’ happen?” you say as you shut the door behind you, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“shouldn’t you be getting ready, sage?” mia says not even looking in your direction, fiddling with whatever paperwork is in front of her.

you roll your eyes, “it’s 5 PM, i only came here early to practice my new routine. plus, i needed to ask you something, but then i overheard you. you know i’m one of the few people you actually trust here. so seriously, what was that all about?”

she stops messing with the papers and finally directs her eyes towards you, breathing a heavy sigh. “okay, so you know the club has a few more debt payments before i can solely own this place right? well, this man i was on the phone with can more than likely wipe away the rest of the debt with a snap of a finger.”

“so if he can do that, why would you tell him to fuck off? i don’t get it.”

“because he wants to own majority of the business! all of the creative decisions, finances, even down to the dancers’ employment would be his decision. i’m not doing that! i’ve worked way too hard to get to where illusion is today. and do you know how many strip club owners are women? not a whole lot. this is my pride.”

you both sit in a minute of silence, her words repeating in your mind. she was right, so much went into this club and those who weren’t on the pole proved that a club could run without a man’s help or approval. and you knew your boss wasn’t desperate enough to give in just yet.

“well no one but you is gonna run club illusion. fuck another owner or a co-owner,” you firmly say as mia shakes her head and smiles, now directing her attention at her desktop, moving her mouse around.

“why do i like you so much, sage?”

“i dunno, i guess i have that effect on people,” you smile as you push your hair back, opening the door so you could start getting ready.

“by the way,” you say with one foot out the door, “what was the guy’s name?”

“somethin’ hong, i kept forgetting the name, why? does it ring a bell?”

“nah, just wanna have a name in mind just in case he shows up, you know they like doing that.”

“well let’s hope not,” she groans as she stretches her arms out. “i really don’t need the extra stress - i can already tell tonight’s gonna be extra for no reason.”

and crazy enough, your boss was right. security had to break up two fights, one of the dancers ended up getting sent home (she was overly drunk), and a bartender ended up quitting - all in the span of four hours.

you look at the clock on the wall, readjusting your bodysuit straps and making sure your makeup was still intact. it was finally midnight, which hopefully meant the rest of the night would be better until it was time for the club to close.

“crazy ass night huh?” your closest friend and fellow dancer, hana (also known as chardonnay) approaches you. she finds her makeup kit and grabs a brush, dolling up her face.

“who are you tellin? and it’s only thursday! if heads into the weekend,” you say but hana finishes your thoughts.

“oh hello no, do not manifest that energy. this weekend can be busy, but not crazy,” she puts her kit back in her corner and checks herself out.

min then walks into the dressing room, hastily scanning the area for one person. “hana!” she calls out, slightly panicking. “you have a whole party waiting for you and you’re talking in the dressing room?”

“i know min, i just had to make sure i was ready, sheesh,” hana rolls her eyes. “gimme five and i’ll be out. they can wait.”

“you better hurry up,” min says walking away, “mia already has had to deal with a lot of shit and i’m pretty sure the last thing she wants to deal with is y’all acting out.” she closes the door behind her and the music becomes muffled again.

“lemme head out there before even more hell gets raised,” hana sighs as she switches her clear heels for her champagne-colored ones. “i guess i’ll see you out there in a bit.” she and a few others leave the room, leaving the space nearly empty.

——

after checking yourself out, you finally head back on to the scene, deciding to walk around and look for clientele since you already performed on the main stage for tonight.

as you get deeper into the center, you notice a figure at one of the small, standing tables. intrigued, you walked closer and your body can’t deny it’s reaction when you see how handsome he is. his dress white shirt had a few buttons opened, his black hair styled to where not all of it was in his face, and his eyes? oh you felt like you could melt in them.

when you finally get close enough, you place your hand on his shoulder and he looks up at you, putting his glass of whiskey down. “hey there,” you smile flirty at him, and he responds by smiling back at you.

“hey beautiful,” he says in the most soft, yet incredibly sexy tone. “i haven’t seen you around before, are you new here?”

“oh, so you’ve been here before,” you say going to the opposite side of the table, your eyes not leaving is. “that’s interesting, considering i’ve never seen you, i practically have a sixth sense when it comes to this place.”

“mmm, different days, different times, maybe,” he picks up his glass and takes a sip and when he puts it down, you reach for his hand and take hold of it.

“well that can’t stop us from getting to know each other better,” you rub his hands softly. “what’s your name?”

“hong. joshua hong, to be more specific,” he says. “and yours?”

you try to keep a poker face, but you fail drastically as your expression changes. “hong?” you think to yourself. “hong.. why does it sound so familiar?”

you mind then recalls the conversation with mia, and you slowly remove your hand from his. “w-wait a minute, hong? are you a club owner or something?”

“actually i am, how did-” you interrupt him by scoffing and shaking your head, not believing what could’ve happened.

“no fucking way.. you’re the man that called my boss earlier today weren’t you? about wanting to own this place?”

“yeah, that was me,” he says with all the pride he can muster and it made you a little annoyed. “this place has so much potential, and it’s becoming one of the most popular clubs in the area. with my help, it can reach that and more! everyone would benefit.”

“look, hong - whoever you are, this club is doing fine. mia didn’t need a savior before and she doesn’t need one now, especially from some cocky motherfucker who he thinks he can change everything just by walking into the room.” you walk away ready to find another customer, but he comes in front of and stops you.

“you’re bold as hell.. i love that in a partner,” joshus says grinning as he begins to kiss the side of your neck teasingly, his lips feeling like a soft pillow. your body and your mind are now drastically confused. yes, he was trying to take over the club and you didn’t want that, but you couldn’t deny your physical attraction to him either.

after a few more seconds, joshua pulls away and smirks at you, clearly enjoying the fact that you were starting to break down your walls. he takes something out of his pocket and slides it into your hand, and when you feel it - it’s a thick wad of cash.

“let’s go upstairs baby,” joshua says as he pulls you towards him, having you lead the way. watching your surroundings, you firmly grab his hand and you lead him to the vip rooms, walking up the steps and then finding the closest, empty room.

unable to hold back anymore (and away from any other eyes), you sharply pull him closer to you and smash your mouth against his, hands roaming his hair as he walks backwards. when he reaches the edge of the couch, joshua gently sits down and pulls you onto his lap, his hands now palming your ass. you lowly moan at the feeling as you begin to roll your hips into him, his touches becoming more firmer as he squeezes your cheeks.

“you couldn’t resist me, could you?” joshua laughs to himself. “just a second ago you were telling me off, and now you’re like putty in my hands.”

“fuck you,” you moan out when he starts playing with the crotch of your bodysuit, dragging two fingers over the cloth. he continues the motion until he can start to feel a familiar dampness.

“awww cute, you wanna fuck me,” he gloats, dragging his fingers into your bodysuit, playing with your inside lips. he continues the motion for a few moments and then you muster every good bone left in your body, to pry his fingers away from your now dripping core.

“fuck, i shouldn’t be doing this.. i really shouldn’t be doing this,” you say hesitantly.

“well why not? we’re already here aren’t we? no one has to know, baby. this’ll be our little secret, m’kay?”

and that was all you needed to hear. this was definitely something you’d be carrying with you to the grave.

“fine. one round and then that’s it-” you can’t even finish your sentence before joshua slams his lips once again on yours, this time with more vigor and fever.

——

for the millionth time tonight, your body and your mind are in two conflicting states. how could something this bad be so incredibly good?

“m-mmm, sh-shua,” you moan into his ear as he thrusts into you, your bodysuit completely off and his pants pooling down at his ankles. “you feel amazing,” you continue to feel him up, pressing down on his shoulders. joshua hisses at the feeling, guiding your hands down to his waist so you can see and feel what he was doing to you.

“that’s all you,” he smiles as you move a bit to match his pace, almost moaning with you at the new intensity you both set. “with me here, you could have this every night, hmmm, maybe even more than that to be real with you.”

he was really trying to get you over, but for your sake - it couldn’t happen.

“and with you here, you’d probably take out 20% of my pay,” you chuckle but it’s immediately cut off when joshua thrusts sharply into you, causing you to hunch over and moan, almost loud enough to where someone could hear you.

“i thought you needed to be quiet? you’re fucking the new potential owner, can’t have everyone finding out, right?”

“fuck, fuck, f-fuck,” you whisper, joshua not sure if that was from the sex or if you were still frustrated that your morals have gone out the window.

you feel a tightening in your core, and you knew any minute that you were about to come. as he continues to thrust into you, the coils in your become smaller and more detailed.

“joshua, shua, i- mmmm, i-!” you call out for him and moments later, you juices leak on him. you relax into his chest, regulating your breathing to a slower pace.

——

“this doesn’t mean anything you know,” your back facing him as he helps you fix the strings on your bodysuit. “i’ve already crossed some lines that i can’t return from.”

“i keep telling you sweetheart, no one has to know. you’re making it seem like you have to tell the whole world.”

several thoughts run through your mind, including ones of him railing you from behind in one of the secluded vip rooms. you try and push them out of your head when you finally speak.

“and if i did want to see you again, how would i go about that?” joshua then hands you a business card and pats your back, signifying that he was done.

“just gimme a call love.”

you both walk out the room, and he turns to face you again, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “see you soon, baby.” he walks away, leaving you dazed and in suspended motion. you almost don’t hear your name being called out.

“sage!” hana calls out to you and you walk over to her.

“who was that? he’s so fucking hot! how’d you bag him?”

you sigh as you lie through your teeth, “he’s no one special. just another customer.”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #joshua smut #hong joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #joshua imagines #hong joshua imagines #hong jisoo imagines #joshua fanfic #hong joshua fanfic #dsvtt: kenny’s works #dsvtt: private dancer

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wongyuuu · 8 months

Note

Hi!! can you do a sort of angst/fluff where the reader and joshua like eachother a lot but the reader always rejects joshua because they're scared to be dating someone who's an idol.

Thank you so much!! even if you don't write it, i still appreciate all you do and all the fix's you write 💕

this one was a little more complicated to write, but somehow i got carried away... so i hope you like it!

pairing: joshua x fem!reader genre: angst word count: 1.4k warnings: cursing

a/n: not proofread

requests are open

Staring at the TV ahead of you, watching Joshua give his first ment of the concert, you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of him. His smile was so bright, his voice so kind as he talked with his members and the fans. Looking at him, even if it was through a screen, made your heartache in the worst possible way.

He had invited you to the concert, promised you that no one would ever find out about you attending. Realistically, you knew that no one would recognize you, that you could pass by as just any other fan in the venue. Yet, you couldn't really bring yourself to be there.

If you attended their concert you knew that something was bound to change. It was a change you desperately wanted, desired, and longed for but one you'd never allow yourself to have.

Even if you didn't mean to, your mind went back to the last time you saw Joshua.

It was the weeks before, he called you as soon as he left practice, asking if he could drop by because he wanted to talk with you. Please, it's important. You were never able to say no to Joshua, from the moment you met him. Because it was him, but also because Joshua was the kind of person who only really asked for things when he really needed them. So if he called you, you'd always take his call no matter what you were doing or who you were with.

Less than half an hour later Joshua arrived, pressing the password on your door and letting himself in. Even if he knew your code, he always called first to make sure that you were home and if seeing was something him was you wanted. He was surprised when you took his call and when you said yes to his request.

You had been avoiding him, like the man was the plague. And he knew that he was to blame for it. He pushed too hard, too fast, too far. But at the same time, Joshua was also tired of this game the two of you played, one in which both of you were losers.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late. But I really wanted to see you"

Joshua kissed your cheek, his lips staying against your skin far longer than necessary but not nearly long enough. When he wasn't around the one thing you wanted the most was to be near him, to hear his voice, his laugh. You wanted Joshua in all ways possible. You had been in love with him the moment you met him. It was almost comical, how quickly you had fallen for him, especially considering how you said you didn't believe someone could fall in love after just one meeting.

"I really missed you" he said "I texted you but never got an answer, so I got worried"

While Joshua wasn't the kind of guy who liked texting, God knew how many unanswered texts were on his phone, he always made an effort for you. And because of that you always felt like your relationship with him was different.

"I've been busy, haven't checked my phone in days, actually"

It wasn't a complete lie. Your phone, your personal one, was one you barely used. You bought it mostly to keep your work life and private life separated. Work had been taking up most of your life, so your phone wasn't something you gave a lot of attention to. But you had seen Joshua's texts in the notification bar. hey, is everything okay?, the first one said, call me when you can, followed by, if you're not busy, can we have dinner tomorrow? The tomorrow he mentioned was two nights before. His texts were still to be read.

"I know, that's why I got worried"

He sat in front of you on the couch, holding your hands while this thumb lightly drew patterns on your palms. He had the same expression from the first time you saw him, calm and serene, calming in a way. But you knew better at this point. His beautiful eyes had a pinch of worry and tiredness in them — maybe from the long hours of practice before a concert, or because of the whole situation between you and him.

"I came to invite you to the concert. The guys miss you being around too. They would be very happy if you attended"

You were already shaking your head before he was done speaking. Joshua saw it as a win though, the fact you didn't pull your hands away from him, refusing his touch.

"You know I can't go"

"No one will know you're there, I promise. I know it's not ideal, and not as much fun, but you can watch it from backstage. If someone does see you, they'll just think of you as part of the staff"

He had such hopeful eyes. You know that he thought that it was a good idea, a plan that couldn't possibly fail because he, as well as everyone else, would do their best to hide you and protect you.

"I don't want to hide, Joshua" you felt his hand go cold, so you took them into yours for a change "I don't want to make your life difficult. I don't want you to choose between me and the life you built for the past eleven years. I won't make you choose between me and your brothers, your family. I can't let you do that"

It was his turn to shake his head.

"Who says I have to choose?"

"You can't have it all Joshua, the career and everything else. At least, not in this country"

For the first time, since the two of you started this sort of dance, Joshua pulled away from you.

"I don't understand why you keep doing this. Everyone dates, some of the guys are dating right now. And I know you feel the same as me. So why do you keep pushing me away?"

"Because I am scared!" you screamed "I have seen what it does to people, having their relationship exposed. I don't want to see people talking about you like you committed a crime, demanding your expulsion of seventeen, sending you death threats. I don't to expose my family to this, myself too"

He shook his head, passing your small living room. Two steps was all it took for him to cross it. You loved having him around, how your tiny boring apartment was suddenly full of life when he was around. Even in moments such as that, when the conservation was taking a turn for the worst he brought so much life to the plain walls. Both of you stayed in silence, thinking of what to say next. Joshua wondered what he should say to make you change your mind, while you wanted him to understand where you were coming from, that in your decision was also the love you felt for him.

"Shua" you whispered, finally standing up "I need you to listen to me, okay?"

You felt your body contract in pain at the sight of his eyes filled with tears, just like yours. You took his face into your hands, to make sure that he wouldn’t miss a single word of what you were saying. Not that you needed to. Joshua always paid attention to you, listened to every single thing you had to say.

"I love you so, so, so much. This is the kind of feeling I only ever read about, that I always deemed impossible. And then you came around, with your beautiful eyes and kind smile. You gave me so much. In you, I found love, friendship, a home. You shared your life with me, your brothers. Everything that's precious to you, you gave me a little bit. But I will never do anything to hurt that, anything that could take those things away from you"

You stood on your tiptoes and pulled his face close to yours, kissing his lips for the first and last time.

"Shit" you pushed your tears away, blinking rapidly. The loud cheers of the fans, indicating the start of the next song, were enough to bring you back.

You knew you shouldn't be watching the concert, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop. From that night on, all you'd have of Joshua would be memories and dreams of a life that you could never have.

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#k-labels #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #joshua x reader #hong joshua x reader #hong jisoo x reader #joshua x you #hong jisoo x you #joshua #seventeen fluff #joshua imagines #hong jisoo imagines #joshua hong #hong jisoo

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leejungchans · 2 years

Text

prove it, you won’t : h.js

word count | 19k (I AM SO SORRY)

pairing | joshua hong (svt) x female reader

warning(s) / includes | mentions of needles and getting tattoos, hospitals and common sickness, past breakups, food, alcohol (but no drinking) ; swearing ; 1-2 biting jokes/innuendos ; uses of ‘darling’ and ‘princess’ as pet names

genre | fluff, angst, humour, tattoo artist au, slowburn (?), flirty shua which is a genre in and of itself

note | part 3 of the fallin’ flowers series; based on tattoo artist!shua from the secret language of flowers; can be read as a stand-alone ; appearances by some characters from the other parts ; please forgive any potential inaccuracies with joshua and reader’s jobs </3

summary: stumbling upon a new tattoo parlour shouldn’t lead to so many complications in your love life. that is, until you met joshua hong.

a/n: she’s finally here!!!!!! again i’m beyond sorry for the extremely long wait :( writing this was tough due to both personal and writing difficulties, but i’ve read every single comment on the previous two parts of this series and i hope you know that all your incredibly sweet words motivated me a lot 💗 thank you so much for your patience and i hope this is somewhat worth the wait!! feedback is highly, highly appreciated as it keeps me going <333 enjoy!!

Sometimes, you wish Joshua Hong wasn’t so good at his job.

People always warn against being rude to tattoo artists because they’re the people who dictate how good or bad a design looks on your body—a design that’s essentially permanent and apparently hurts more to get removed than it is to get inked. So perhaps they’re right, maybe you should be a little nicer to Joshua Hong.

But like the nuisance he is, he’s definitely aware of just how much power you’re putting in his hands, and he never fails to dangle that very fact in your face any chance he gets. If someone were to lock you two in a room together, you’d probably perish within the first five minutes from your blood pressure shooting through the roof.

“Why not just go to another artist if you dislike this Joshua guy so much?” Jihoon asks one day after you got your first tattoo done by him. His inquisitive eyes observe you through his wire frame glasses; you’re vaguely reminded of a bookish character that came straight out of a cartoon, and you know that whatever reason you’re about to give, it’d better be a good one unless you’d like to warrant his seemingly infinite wisdom.

A drawn-out sigh leaves you as you set your fork down on your plate with a heavy clatter. Your friend’s eyebrows raise subtly when you remove your jacket before shoving another forkful of pasta into his mouth, likely swallowing down a quip about not wanting to see you strip while he’s eating.

Conveniently, the shirt you’re wearing exposes the watercolour tattoos of flowers that decorate the expanse of your shoulders and décolletage, all of which came from the same artist.

All, but one; one that sticks out like a sore thumb.

That sole tattoo was done by none other than Joshua Hong, and you hate it almost as much as you hate him. Not because it looks horrible, but because it’s a stinging reminder that Joshua Hong is so good at his job that he makes everyone else’s work look like a child’s doodle. You hate it because you’d rather not think of the very reason why you now have no choice but to keep going back to Joshua.

You also hate that you can’t stop thinking about him, that he’s so perfect in every sense of the world. It’s almost a little hard to believe: how can someone be this good at everything and be blessed with that face at the same time?

Ever observant, Jihoon understands before you even have to explain, jaw dropping and mouth falling open into a small ‘o’ at the realisation. “One of these… is not quite like the others,” he meekly suggests.

You can only snort at the massive understatement. “Yeah… if he didn’t have the ability to make my other tattoos look like chicken scratch, trust me when I say that I wouldn’t keep going back to him. He probably has magic hands, or something,” you grumble bitterly, “like Midas’ touch but with tattooing people instead of turning stuff to gold.”

“For someone who claims to hate him, you sure do spend a lot of time thinking about his hands.”

“I’m going to aggressively poke you with this fork.” “Damn, do you speak to your kids like this too?”

The deathly glare you shoot in Jihoon’s direction does nothing to faze him, and he simply meets your heated—albeit half-hearted—stare with indifferent eyes and the barely noticeable upturn of his lips.

You noticed it, though. And you don’t like it one bit.

You remember the first time you met Joshua Hong.

“Hi, first time?” You blankly blink up at the person who just approached you: tall, lithe, silver hair parted down the centre. “You look a little nervous.”

Did you? The faintest onslaught of heat pricks at the skin of your neck, threatening to travel up to your face as you will yourself to push it down.

It takes you a brief moment to regain your words. “First time here, but not my first tattoo. I’m just having my consultation today, though.”

The gentle smile playing on the stranger’s lips stretches wider. “Ah. Well, welcome to 24H Parlour. I’m Minghao.”

“Thanks, I’m Y/N.”

He hums in acknowledgement. “I think I saw your name on the appointment sheet.”

“You work here, then?”

Minghao responds with a small incline of his head and sheepishly scratches at the back of his neck. “Yeah… set to take over in a few years too.”

“That’s amazing! I’m sure everything will work out great for you.”

“Thank you, it means a lot to hear that.” His eyes drift from your face to something—or someone—over your shoulder before finding yours again. “You ready?” he asks, gaze soft and smile encouraging.

You nod, initial apprehension mellowing at Minghao’s gentle demeanour; he seems like someone you wouldn’t mind being around, more importantly a tattooist who knows what he’s doing if his portfolio on their website is anything to go by. Having been in quite a few consultation sessions, some disastrous and dissuading you from revisiting the parlour altogether, you can already tell this one with Minghao will be anything but that.

Still, you’re just a little nervous. New place, new people, why wouldn’t you be?

The leather surface of the couch in the waiting area clings to the skin of your thighs as you get up. So maybe you shouldn’t have worn shorts. “Sure, where should we go?”

Pink colours Minghao’s cheekbones and the tips of his ears as he apologetically explains, “Ah… I won’t be your tattooist,” he reveals apologetically upon seeing the way your brows furrow in confusion. “My coworker is—he’s much better equipped than I am at the style you mentioned wanting to get in your last call. Don’t worry,” he rushes to reassure you, and you hope it isn’t because you did a job at veiling your disappointment, “you’re in very good hands. I promise. Oh! Shua, over here!”

‘Shua’ has a nice side profile, you note when your head cranes in his direction; he’s currently speaking to a girl who you presume is his last client from the new covering just below her collarbone. He turns away from the girl briefly at Minghao’s call of his name to offer an acknowledging nod, and that split second is more than enough for you to conclude that his front profile is somehow even more attractive than his side; it has you wondering if 24H Parlour (a rather misleading name, because you’re certain that they’re definitely not a McDonald’s, not that anyone needs your input) just so happens to only hire attractive people—everyone you’ve come across so far, their receptionist included, looks like they stepped right off a runway.

You watch his lips move soundlessly as he speaks to the girl, whose face is tinted a pretty shade of pink that reminds you of a blushing rose. Moisture starts to collect on your palms and between your fingers the moment ‘Shua’ waves the girl, who looks a little too disappointed to leave, goodbye before making his way over to you and Minghao. You avert your gaze so that you don’t actually start drooling, but the tattoos that extend from his biceps to the elegant column of his neck are still at the forefront of your mind.

“‘Sup,” he says casually, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans. You wonder if the Jackson Pollock-esque paint splatters were part of the original design or if they were his own work. (Neither, you’d come to learn much later. They’re Minghao’s.) “Who’s the cutie?”

Heat assaults your cheeks, leaving them hot to the touch as you take sudden interest in the shiny black tiles of the floor.

“This is Y/N,” Minghao supplies, halfheartedly rolling his eyes, “she has the consultation with you.”

The dark-haired man turns back to you with curved eyes. “I’m Joshua. Everyone calls me Josh, though, but you can call me yours too.” Mortified at the wink he sends in your direction, you choose to stare helplessly at Minghao instead, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

Minghao sighs. “Do you ever get sick of using that line?”

So, he says it to everyone.

The corners of Joshua’s lips quirk up impishly. “No, not really. Why? Jealous?”

“You wish,” Minghao fires back. He appears to be imitating someone else judging by the exaggerated switch in his intonation, and the two tattooists share a brief fit of giggles over an inside joke you’re obviously not a part of.

The silver-haired man sobers up quickly. “Anyways, I won’t take up too much of your time. You can trust Joshua, Y/N. I’m confident he’ll be able to bring your vision to life.”

A tight-lipped smile stretches across your lips.

“You sure can,” Joshua confirms, facing you. You don’t know if you believe him just yet. “Shall we, darling?”

All the thoughts that previously occupied your mind are now replaced by static, a hissing noise that rings in your ears incessantly as you try to get a grip on reality.

What did he just call you?

A rush of scorching heat rises up along your neck. “Y-Yeah… o-okay,” is all you manage to stammer out before your tattooist gestures for you to follow him down a short hall towards a room in the back. You glance over your shoulder uneasily to look back at Minghao, who sends you a reassuring smile and thumbs-up. His gaze is torn away from you, however, when the receptionist calls him away, leaving you to your own devices.

Heart still pounding, you turn to face the front just in time to narrowly avoid crashing into Joshua’s broad back when he abruptly stops to unlock the door to his studio. You cringe at your clumsiness, your heart rate rising to an uncomfortable pace yet again at how embarrassing it would’ve been if you did bump into him.

He cranes his neck to look at you, eyes twinkling with mirth when he asks, “You okay there, darling?”

Mortified, you nod dumbly, not missing the light chuckle he lets out as he swings the door open and steps to the side, “After you.”

This is off to a great start.

•••

You blame your fumbling from the first meeting on nerves. Though, you can’t say the second one went any better.

You hover at the entrance of the room awkwardly. Joshua has his back turned to you as he slips on a pair of gloves, the contours of the muscles thinly-veiled by the white T-shirt he dons.

You spaced out. You were absolutely not ogling him.

He turns around and finds you still standing by the open door, the beginnings of an amused smile creeping onto his face when you hastily avert your gaze and pretend to look at the vinyl records he has displayed on the wall.

“Well?” he prompts. His hand finds the tattoo bed and pats it twice, signaling you to sit. “Hop on, darling. How else will I give you your tattoo?”

Lips pressed firmly together, you oblige wordlessly. You sit on the bed and swing your legs onto the smooth leather before lying down on your back, hands clasped firmly over your stomach as you squint up at the overhead lights.

His voice rings clear in the silence. “You’re very tense for someone who’s already gotten tattoos before.”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

“No, thanks,” you retort huffily, “I’m good.”

Joshua shrugs. “Your loss. Shall we get started, then?”

He’s thorough, having prepared stencils of your to-be tattoo in seemingly every size possible in your desired range. It almost makes it more difficult for you to pick one, but you’re more appreciative of the options he provided you with than anything.

“Any special meaning for the orchids?” he asks as he applies the stencil—a thin orchid branch running parallel just under your right collarbone—and you nearly miss his question because you’re trying so hard to focus on anything but how his fingers rest on your sensitive skin.

“Oh… no, I don’t suppose there is? Other than that I think they look pretty. Why? Is there a meaning to them?”

“I’m sure there is, but I wouldn’t know,” Joshua replies with a cheeky smile. “But one of my coworkers is dating a florist, so I hear them talk about flower meanings a lot. His shop is just a few doors down, actually, you should check it out if you like flowers.”

“Sure…”

Your voice is strained, a little forced. Perhaps you don’t like flowers? Joshua frowns, but then you practically have a botanical book’s worth of them on your body. Maybe you had an ex who was a florist. He shrugs off the itching thought, deciding it probably isn’t a topic to bring up with a client he barely knows.

He gestures to the full-length mirror propped up against the dark grey wall. “You can check now and see if you like the placement,” he instructs. “If everything’s good, we can get started.”

You nod and approach the mirror, making exaggerated movements with your right arm to test whether the soon-to-be tattoo would warp too much with your daily motions.

Satisfied with the result, you turn back to Joshua with a smile, already giddy with adding to your collection. “I like it, everything looks good.”

“Good, good, I’m happy to hear that.” His smile is genuine, one of someone who truly has a love for their craft, so while you’re still a little apprehensive about Joshua Hong, you can always respect passion and dedication.

“I also have lollipops for people who need them,” Joshua continues, snapping you out of your reverie, “you want one? They’re strawberry. You’ll probably like them.”

You do like strawberries. There’s a fluttery feeling that erupts in your stomach—

“I’d offer you my arm, but I kinda have to work, so...”

—never mind.

“Sorry, just kidding,” he says upon noticing the exasperated look that now stains your features, gloved hands raised in mock surrender. “Trying to loosen up the mood a ‘lil, y,know? You still look a little nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” you mutter as you sulkily settle back onto the cushioned bench, oblivious to the fond curling of his lips.

The whole process went by smoothly, much to your surprise, but you suppose at the end of the day he was still a professional. You even snuck a glance at him at one point, only to regret the decision almost immediately from how attractive you found him—well, more than you already did, but that’s besides the point—when he was in a serious mood.

Something about the way his gaze hardened and his brows furrowed from concentration has you wondering if your previous impression of him was a little too harsh. If being a little flirtier here and there helps him establish a steady client base, who are you to judge? Part of the hustle, isn’t it?

After all, he’s just your tattooist, someone you cross paths with once every month or two at most. Absolutely nothing could go wrong with this.

You’re determined to keep it that way.

No one was more surprised than you were when you started regularly going back to 24H Parlour—more specifically, Joshua Hong—for tattoo appointments, but you figured the end result was worth sitting through an hour or two of his flirting. In all honesty, he’s not that bad when he isn’t using every cheesy pickup line under the sun on you.

“…don’t put sunscreen on it until it’s fully healed, don’t wear anything that’s too tight, only use fragrance-free and alcohol-free moisturiser on it—”

“I know, Joshua,” you laugh, “it’s not like—oh, I don’t know—I’ve been coming here for months and getting tattoos for the past few years or anything.”

He half-heartedly rolls his eyes at your teasing. “Just following protocol, darling. Wouldn’t want you suing me for negligence.”

“I’d never do that.”

“Of course you won’t,” he agrees, “you love me.”

“A bit of a stretch right there.”

There’s a prickly sensation to your cheeks when he winks at you. “You’ll come around, Y/N.” He’s really far too attractive for his own good, him being completely self-aware only makes it worse. For your heart, at least, not that he has to know. “Why else would you keep coming back?”

The sarcasm that drips from your voice is so palpable it might as well create a puddle on the ground. “Hm, it’s definitely because you’re irresistible and not because you’re good at what you do.”

“See? You get it.”

“Oh my God,” you mutter to yourself in disbelief as you stretch out your limbs and adjust your top, unaware of Joshua’s eyes trailing over its elaborate beading. “Night out?”

You let out a confused hum until you look down at your shirt, realising why he’s come to such a conclusion. “Oh, yeah.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Nah, don’t have one,” you dismiss, “just some friends.” You decide to turn the tide on him. “Why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Is this your way of asking me out, darling?” he asks, looking over his shoulder with a teasing grin. “I didn’t know you liked me this much.”

“You wish, Hong.”

He shrugs before opening the door to his studio, prompting you to hop off the tattoo bed and grab your purse from the spare chair. “If you must know, not at the moment.”

You hum in response because you don’t quite know what else to say. You also don’t know why relief bubbles within you at the new revelation because last time you checked—you definitely don’t like Joshua Hong like that, he’s a friend at most, and you really, really couldn’t care less about if he’s seeing someone or not.

“Hey, this is gonna sound weird,” he blurts out as the two of you draw closer to the waiting area, and you crane your neck to throw him a confused glance, “but do you… wanna get coffee sometime?”

“Who’s asking who out now?”

“Okay, okay, no need to sound so smug,” Joshua grumbles, still walking you out to the front, “I just thought it’d be cool to get to know you as a friend.”

You find yourself stuck at a crossroad. His suggestion is tempting, yet there’s a little voice at the back of your head that’s just itching to ask—so you do. “Does this happen with all your clients, Joshua Hong?”

“No,” he says, simple but straight to the point, “you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, of course. It’s no biggie.”

“Okay, but on one condition.”

“Shoot.”

“I pick the location.”

He looks at you weirdly with a “that’s it?” face. “Sure,” he agrees easily, “was gonna let you pick anyways.”

“O-Okay, then… sure. Why not?” You wear a mask of nonchalance, but there’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach that just won’t go away. Such a nuisance, you want nothing more than a net to contain the flock of butterflies that had erupted in your body.

“It’s a date then, darling,” Joshua beams. “Text me later.”

God, what have you gotten yourself into?

•••

You ended up choosing your favourite café, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the main streets, located in a quaint alleyway with an uneven cobblestone path and slight incline. The interior is just as homely as the outside, rustic decor that reminds you of a little cottage in the woods while the smell of freshly-baked pastries wafts around you like an intoxicating perfume.

You and Joshua pick a table near the windows at the front. Your chair is a little wobbly and the table is barely big enough for your food and drinks, but the sunlight streaming through the glass offers a nice view of the quaint street outside and some much needed warmth on this chilly day.

“So…” you begin, a little awkwardly, stirring the ice cubes around your glass with your paper straw, “what do you do when you’re not injecting ink into people’s skin?”

Joshua makes a face at you. He’s in the middle of cutting up his waffles into bite-sized pieces, the action causing his biceps to strain against the sleeves of his T-shirt. The sight before you is quite amusing, yet weirdly endearing—buff, tattooed Joshua Hong with his “hot bad boy” (his words, not yours) eyebrow piercing daintily cutting up strawberry waffles dusted in a pound of powdered sugar and honey.

“It makes me sound like a criminal when you phrase it like that,” he says before popping a strawberry slice into his mouth, “and we both know I’m too sexy for jail.”

He’s not entirely wrong, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I asked a genuine question!”

“I was about to get to it!” he complains, pouting like a five-year-old. “I kinda just like to stay at home, to be honest. I make a lot of beaded bracelets… and I kinda wanna try knitting but I don’t know if I have time for that.”

You blink. Okay, so maybe not the response you expected from him. With the way he acts around you, you thought he’d say something totally obnoxious like posing in front of a mirror until his reflection winks back at him, not something as wholesome as making bracelets. You try to conjure up the image in your head: Joshua in his probably dark and grungy apartment, sitting crossed-legged on the ground threading cute little beads through string, his tongue poking out from between his lips from concentration which makes him look more attractive than it should.

“You look so surprised,” he observes, “don’t believe me?”

“Well… I guess it’s just a little hard to picture, but it’s a cute hobby. What do you do with them afterwards?”

“Wear them? Give them to people? I’m not a crow, I don’t just hoard a mountain of shiny things,” he chuckles, “and it makes me happy when I see my family and friends wear them, it’s like they’re taking a little piece of me with them so they know I’m always there.”

God, that’s so fucking adorable of him. It makes your stomach churn.

“What about you, princess? What do you do outside work?”

You take a sip of your latte. “Uh… read? Meet up with friends? I don’t know, life keeps me pretty busy so I don’t really do much.”

“Well, we gotta change that, darling. All work and no play? That can’t be good for you.”

Maybe it’s just the coffee, because you refuse to accept the fact that him calling you darling has your heart skipping a beat. Just a little.

“Excuse me, ‘we’?” you ask sceptically, the faintest traces of a smile lingering on your lips as your mind races to decipher what he could possibly mean by that.

“Yeah, we,” Joshua repeats casually, spearing a piece of waffle with his fork, “friends don’t let friends rot in boredom alone.”

You gasp, scandalised. “I don’t rot in boredom! My life is very interesting, I’ll have you know!” His playful jab almost has the fact that he just called you his friend flying over your head. Almost.

“Yet you’re here having coffee and waffles with me,” he points out, tone laced with a teasing lilt, “I thought you couldn’t stand me, Y/N.”

“You’re the one who asked me out! And—ugh, I can't believe I’m saying this—but I guess you’re pretty cool when you want to be.”

You shrug like your confession holds barely any significance to you, yet your heart hammers just a little stronger against your rib cage at the idea that perhaps your relationship can move beyond mere acquaintances. You’ve learnt more about him today than you have in the past several sessions, and suddenly being friends with Joshua Hong seems more tolerable than you ever thought possible.

“‘Pretty cool’?” Joshua echoes, an evidently pleased grin stretching all the way to the edges of his rounded cheeks. “Careful now, if I didn’t know better I’d think you’re starting to fall in love with me.”

“Please don’t make me take it back.”

“Fair, guess I shouldn’t push my luck,” he agrees. He leans in just a little immediately after, voice low as he tells you, “And for the record, I think you’re pretty cool too, Y/N.”

Curse his stupid doe-like eyes and the way they catch the brilliant afternoon sun, the way they crinkle into crescents and drip with honey as though his happiness cannot be contained any longer.

He reminds you of a sweet poison, one that infiltrates your system when you least expect it and rears its stupidly pretty head only when you’re already too far gone, too charmed to search for an antidote.

But weirdly, you think you don’t mind getting used to this.

Your stomach does a little flip as the familiar neon sign of the parlour draws closer to you with each step you take down the street. Unlike all the times before, you’re not here for a tattoo this time. However, another part of you is also giddy with anticipation, as frankly it has been a while since you’ve gone anywhere fun in your off-time from work.

Over the past three weeks, you and a certain black-haired tattooist have met up for coffee on several more occasions, your conflicting schedules preventing you two from planning anything longer than leisurely, hour-long chit-chats at cafés around town. At one point he even joked about starting a café review Instagram page with you.

“Let me know when you have more time from work, princess.” “Be prepared to wait a lot, then.” “I guess I’ll make an exception for you, you busy bee.”

The bell above the door signals your arrival, prompting Minghao to look up from his seat at the front desk. His eyes widen, brows pinching together as he immediately grabs the appointment binder to hastily flip through its pages. “Y/N? Did you make an appointment for today? Oh God, I didn’t forget to put you down, did I? Because Shua said he’s clocking out at 7—”

“No, I didn’t,” you reassure, gently cutting off his panicked rambling and smiling when his shoulders visibly sag from relief. “Although… I am here for him.”

The newly-added blue streaks in Minghao’s silvery hair shine a brilliant sapphire when he leans back in his chair. “What did he do this time that made you come all the way here without an appointment?”

You fiddle with the ends of your hair, pointedly avoiding his inquisitive stare. “Um… he said he’s taking me somewhere?”

“He’s—huh?”

“Yeah, he said wanted to take me somewhere fun. The new carnival on the outskirts of town, I think.”

Minghao blinks like he’s still trying to make sense of everything. Britney Spears is singing Till the World Ends and he’s this close to running home and packing his apocalypse bag because sure—you weren’t exactly mortal enemies with Joshua, but he wouldn’t say you were fond of him either. And now you’re going on dates together? Since when?

“Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” He springs up from his seat to press the back of his hand to your forehead. “Are you being held hostage by him? Is this a hidden camera prank show? Because ha-ha, nice try.”

“Yes, no, and no,” you answer with a practised roll of your eyes. “We’re… friends now?”

He draws away with a coy smile. “Is that why you coordinated outfits?”

“We what now?”

Speaking of the devil, a familiar honeyed voice croons, “Well, well, well, look who decided to be a copycat.”

You peer over Minghao’s shoulder to find Joshua sauntering up to you as a boy about his age, presumably his last client for the day, makes a beeline to the front desk. Minghao excuses himself with a knowing glint in his eyes and steps behind the counter to help the boy.

You glare heatedly at the tattooed man standing before you, amused eyes watching your face carefully for your reaction. “I’m not the copycat here, Hong. I’ve literally never seen you wear cardigans before, like ever. Seems like you’re the one copying me.”

“Must not be paying enough attention to me then,” he smirks, looking down at his cream cardigan. It’s horrifically similar to the one you’re wearing right now, and will no doubt mislead any outsider into thinking you planned it on purpose. You refuse to be perceived as wearing matching couple outfits with Joshua Hong.

“I don’t care, go change!”

He cocks a brow at you. “Into what, darling? The forecast says it’s gonna be chilly tonight, do you want me to freeze?” He dramatically places a hand over his heart in mock hurt, a wounded expression etching itself across his features.

You’re about to fire off another retort when the client Joshua walked out with approaches you. “Thanks again for helping me out, your sketch looked so good already!” he says excitedly.

“No worries, Chan,” Joshua says. You don’t know why, but your nose starts itching. You sniff as quietly as possible, not wanting to disrupt their conversation. “And don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I'll text you the final version soon, okay?”

The boy—Chan—nods enthusiastically, fluffy hair bouncing with the movement. “Okay, see you around!”

The violent sneeze comes just as the door closes behind Chan, prompting Joshua to frown in concern. “Woah, are you okay? Are you sick?”

“No, no, it’s probably just a tickle. I’m fine,” you reassure. “Was that your friend?”

“Ah, yeah! Remember my coworker that I told you about? The one dating the florist? That’s him. They’re out of town next week and he wanted to surprise them with a small tattoo of their favourite flower.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“Yeah… they’re really cute.” His eyes are soft as he looks down the direction Chan went in. He allows something akin to longing to linger on his features for several moments before it’s gone, replaced by his signature grin as he turns back to you. “Anyways, let’s go.”

•••

“I knew you should’ve ditched the cardigan,” you grumble, watching Joshua gently toss the folded outerwear onto the backseat, leaving him in only his fitted black T-shirt. “You didn’t even wear it most of the night.”

“I like to be prepared,” Joshua refutes smoothly as he backs his car out of the parking space. With him occupied with looking into the rear-view mirror, it presents you with an opportunity to observe the way his forearms flex when he spins the steering wheel, or how his slender fingers elegantly wrap around it and tap along to an imaginary rhythm.

There’s a tattoo on the ring finger of his right hand. Immediately, you find yourself drawn to the thorny stem coiling up the digit, almost like a snake or vines encircling an ancient pillar. At the end of it lies a wilted rose losing its petals.

You decide to respond before you lose yourself entirely in the potential sentiments behind the melancholic tattoo. “One of the vendors thought we were a couple.”

Your voice is impassive, but your cheeks betray you—growing warm at the memory of the smiling woman commenting on how lovely you two looked together as she handed you the bunny plushie.

And sure, Joshua may have won it for you, but it was purely due to your luck running out by the time you got to the last few game stalls. Your objections fell on deaf ears when it came to naming the bunny, and you finally begrudgingly agreed to Joshua Jr. because it was the lesser of many, many evils.

The man spares you a glance before turning back to the road. He goes quiet for several beats, letting the music playing from his speakers fill the emptiness until he speaks, casually and seemingly uncaring.

“Is it really so bad to be mistaken as my girlfriend?”

Your heart plummets like it’s doing a free fall, and if it weren’t for the lazy smile gracing his features, you would’ve thought you genuinely upset him. You relax a little, willing the jackhammering of your heart to fall back into a steady rhythm. And though the upturn of his lips should’ve been enough reason for you to swallow down that tiny pebble of guilt, it doesn’t go away. It remains lodged in your throat while your fingers drum on your thigh nervously.

“W-Well… I never said it was a bad thing,” you stammer out, fingertips pulsing along to the same beat as your heart while you continue, “you’re a nice guy, and… I had fun today.”

Your words hang heavy in the air. You’re almost too scared to see his reaction, so you choose to look out the window instead. A red sports car zooms past you, the sound of its engine revving obnoxiously disrupts the tranquil silence of night.

“I had fun too,” Joshua finally says softly, eyes gleaming softly from the glow of the street lights outside. “You know, I really did mean it when I said I wanted to get to know you better, Y/N. I like being around you.”

You tear your gaze away from the window, admiring the soft, dark waves of his hair and the gentle slope of his nose. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never thought about being in a relationship with Joshua Hong, especially as you started spending time as friends rather than in a professional setting. And sometimes you think what it’d feel like to hold his hand, to have his pretty pink lips pressed against your skin, to hear him call you “darling” and genuinely mean it.

Perhaps a month ago you’d chide yourself for having those thoughts about him, but as you sit in his car with his lo-fi playlist humming in the background, the street light’s golden luminescence dancing across his features, Joshua Jr. sitting atop his folded cardigan in the backseat… you don’t think you mind anymore.

If this is a dream, you’re not sure if you want to wake up from it. Because right now, everything feels perfect.

Disappointment is a powerful feeling in all the worst ways imaginable, eating away at you until bitterness stings your tongue. It hurts.

It hurts that perfection is temporary, perhaps it doesn’t exist at all. Ah, the irony of falling for a tattoo artist; someone who creates permanent designs that don’t stay perfect forever either. You think about the flowers dusted across your collarbones, and how there will come a day when the colours fade and the intricate line work bleeds into the crevices of your skin, reducing everything into a mere shadow of its former glory.

“So, whatcha doing this weekend, darling?” Joshua asks as he bandages up your new tattoo, a dainty sprig of lavender near where your left shoulder and arm meet.

“Work.”

“You say that every time!”

“Because it’s true!”

He shakes his head, platinum blonde hair bouncing along with the movement. You wonder when and why he got it dyed, it was still black when you bumped into him while running errands last week. “What kinda job makes you go in on a Saturday?”

A distant voice at the back of his head pipes up about how odd it is that he still doesn’t know what you do for a living, but he ignores it. He’s come to understand you’re a private person and if you wanted him to know you would’ve mentioned it, so he doesn’t push it.

“Mine does sometimes,” you answer simply, “besides, don’t you work on Saturdays as well?”

“Only for clients I like if they can’t make it on weekdays.”

“Oh… that’s… really nice of you.” Your eyes subconsciously follow his graceful movement of prying the rubbery material off his lithe fingers.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he coos as he sets the gloves off to the side, “you’re already on that list of clients.”

He flashes you a warm grin, one you find yourself returning as your cheeks grow warm, and it lingers on your face even while he’s doing the final checkups before declaring you’re good to go. It’s funny, and perhaps a little embarrassing, to think how you used to scramble off his tattoo bed the second he’s done and now you’re almost a little too disappointed about having to leave. You refused to admit it to Jihoon when he grilled you on your liking towards him just a few days ago, but perhaps your heart really has grown fond of Joshua Hong.

He walks you out to the front as usual, and you exchange a confused glance when the receptionist makes a face upon your arrival.

“What’s with the long face, Dahee?”

The receptionist glares at Joshua half-heartedly. “Ask the girl you’ve been seeing,” she huffs, “Julia, Julie, whatever her name is. I can’t keep track anymore.”

Can’t keep track? You frown.

“Huh? Why? What happened?”

Dahee purses her red lips into a thin line, eyes flitting over to where you’re standing. “She came in here just ten minutes ago… making a huge ruckus and saying she absolutely had to talk to you because apparently you blocked her.”

You stay silent. It’s not that you wanted to eavesdrop, but you still have to get your final receipt and it’s also not like Joshua’s putting any particular effort into keeping this conversation from you.

His confusion feels genuine. “I broke up with her weeks ago and then blocked her because she was fine with ending things. I’d never just ghost someone, you know that!”

“I know, I know,” Dahee sighs sympathetically. “I believe you, that’s why I insisted you weren’t here and told her to leave before I called security.”

“Thank you, really,” Joshua mutters, absentmindedly playing with the business card holder. “I… I guess I’ll set things straight with her again later. Thanks again, I owe you big time.” He finally realises you’re still hovering awkwardly by the reception counter, and manages a faint smile. “I’m gonna go get ready for the next appointment,” he says. “Bye, Y/N. Have a good rest of the day.”

“You too,” you respond, though you’re not sure just how much nicer his day can get after this new information. Your mind reels from everything you just heard,

Dahee clears her throat softly, and it’s then when you realise that you’ve been staring at the empty space Joshua had previously occupied for far longer than necessary. Your cheeks burn as you turn back to her with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry for the long wait,” she says, casually flipping through her binder to find your record like the two of them were just talking about something as insignificant as the weather outside. She looks up at you with an indifferent smile as she hands you the receipt, but it falls almost instantly when she meets your bewildered, almost frazzled, gaze.

She holds your stare for a moment, searching your eyes for any sign of hurt or confusion. You think she must’ve found it when she sighs quietly, checking the waiting area to make sure it’s empty before turning back to you. Your hands tremble slightly as you take the tiny slip of paper.

“Look, Shua’s not an asshole,” Dahee finally says, now avoiding eye contact with you. “He just—he’s just not looking for anything serious, hasn’t been even before I started working here. He’s transparent about it, but… I don’t know… some people get so upset about it that they come in here all the time trying to find him.”

You nod along, not completely sure why she suddenly decided to divulge all this to you. A part of you also wonders if this is a common occurrence, especially if she just mentioned not being able to keep track of his partners and appears to feel the need to defend him.

Before you can respond, her expression reverts back into a neutral state, a stark and somehow painful contrast to the storm of emotions that begins brewing within you. “As always, give us a call if you need anything. See you next time!”

The walk down the street to your car is heavy, and when you get inside you have to take a few moments to compose yourself, running a harsh palm down your face as you process everything that just happened. It really was too good to be true after all, and you are a fool for thinking Joshua Hong would ever want something serious with you.

Your mind drifts to the coffee dates, his tattooed fingers resting on his fork and knife as he cuts up his strawberry pancakes with his tongue peeking from between his lips, the powdered sugar clinging to the soft skin that tempts you to brush it off with your thumb; to the carnival date and the almost-matching cardigans, the triumphant giggle when he won you that stupid plushie, the beam that lights up his entire face as he proudly presents it to you…

You think about the lingering touches that seem to brand your skin, the look in his eyes as you ramble about God-knows-what, the fond smile that creeps onto his face when he thinks you aren’t looking, and they make you wonder if the mirage is truly that fragile, an iridescent bubble that bursts into obscurity with the touch of a fingertip. It’s sooner or later when you have to wake up from a dream, no matter how long you want it to last.

And it is that cloud of dubiety that has your mind blanking at the little row of text sent to you just as you’re about to call it a day and burrow underneath your covers.

Joshua Hong [00:04] i’m really sorry you had to overhear all that earlier, everything’s settled now

Joshua Hong [00:08] you’re probably asleep, sorry if i’m bothering you

Joshua Hong [00:09] good night

You let the screen go dark, and the muffled thump that results from your phone hitting the crumpled sheets only makes you feel emptier as your eyes flutter shut, images of tattoo sleeves and beaded bracelets dancing behind your eyelids.

“—Mimi’s making a full recovery soon.”

Jihoon smiles. The past few weeks have been especially stressful on you after a patient you’re tending to unexpectedly fell ill again, and to say he’s happy that a part of your life is starting to look up, evident from the hopeful twinkle in your eyes, would be an understatement.

“She’s the one who gave you that drawing of her cat, right? Mr. Sprinkles?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” Your shoulders sag into a more relaxed position from the relieved exhale you let out. “She’s really excited to finally be able to see him soon.”

He nods, grabbing an empty cart as you step into the well-lit entrance of the supermarket a ten-minute drive away from your apartment. A man of few words, his way of showing love and care is picking you up after work every Friday night to take you grocery shopping so you won’t be tempted to order either overpriced healthy meals or processed garbage. Given your job, it’s ironic that he’s the one maintaining your decent eating habits.

“That’s really good to hear. What about Joshua? How’s he doing?”

His question has you freezing on the spot, and Jihoon just barely manages to stop the shopping cart from crashing into your back.

It’s here again—the vivid picture of those shiny, doe-like eyes that curve into crescents whenever in the presence of a sweet smile, the teasing grazes and careless glances, the words of endearment that roll off his tongue ever so smoothly as though they held no special meaning to him.

A few weeks ago, you would’ve let the butterflies roam freely. Now, you only feel sick to the stomach.

Just how many people has he looked at, talked to, touched like that?

“Y/N?”

Your stinging eyes meet Jihoon’s; dark, swirling pools of concern. “Are you okay?”

Wordlessly, you step to the side to allow him room for passing through the metal gates. “What happened? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he inquires again softly. Considerate as ever, he sets a slow pace when walking alongside you, and you glumly note that unlike last time the wheels of the cart actually work somewhat smoothly.

“I don’t think so…” Your hesitancy barely provides him with any semblance of comfort, you can tell by the severe furrowing of his brows. “It—it’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

So you tell him about that day in the parlour, Joshua’s conversation with Dahee, then yours. Jihoon listens intently the entire time, while simultaneously plucking your usual groceries off the shelves and neatly arranging them in the cart. He’s silent for a few moments after you finish ranting, thoroughly processing the information you’ve laid on him.

“I think it wouldn’t hurt to give him the benefit of the doubt,” he finally reasons. There’s a soft thud followed by a brief rattling noise when you glumly toss a bag of chips into the cart. Your feet drag along the tiled floors, rubber soles of your sneakers creating an obnoxious, squeaky sound as he continues, “He seems to like you a lot, and the receptionist could be telling the truth. Don’t judge him so quickly.”

“I’m not judging him, Jihoon,” you sigh, tiredly eyeing the vast selection of cup noodles to your left. “He can do whatever he wants, date around and play around with whoever, I’m just saying I’m not getting my hopes up anymore.”

“It could be different this time, though… you never know…” But even he sounds unsure.

You can’t help the disbelieving chuckle that pushes past your lips, followed by a murmured “excuse me” as you squeeze past a young couple. Going grocery shopping together, how wholesome, how domestic, how utterly disgusting given the messy current state of your mind. “What is this, a romcom?” you ask no one in particular. “One person isn’t just going to suddenly make him want a serious relationship.”

The rattling sounds of rusted wheels rolling on linoleum come to a halt, and you look over your shoulder to find Jihoon adding a pack of wheat noodles to the small mountain of groceries. His eyes, almost entirely hidden away behind his glasses and freshly-washed hair, however, are still trained on you.

“Have you tried talking to him about this?” he suggests hesitantly. “If he really likes you… I don’t know, Y/N… he might prove to you that he’s willing to try.” Since when was Lee Jihoon the hopeless romantic out of you two? He shrugs at the funny look you give him.

You shake your head with another sigh as you continue on your way, aimlessly making a right turn while resisting the urge to succumb to the temptation of the iconic red packaging of Shin Ramyun. You really don’t need a third purchase of their 5-pack within this month.

So instead you make a beeline to the dairy aisle to peruse their yoghurt selection, trusting that Jihoon will eventually join you. The frosty air blasting from the refrigerated aisle hits you like a blizzard, the thin scrubs you’re wearing hardly provide enough warmth from the cold that quickly starts settling into your bones. Shivering a little, you zip up your jacket and stash your hands into the pockets.

Your foot hits something, causing you to look down confusedly at the small jar of peanut butter that had rolled over from an unknown source.

With a soft grunt, you bend over to pick it up, looking up just in time to hear someone say, “I’m so sorry, that’s mine.”

Joshua Hong. Unfortunately, you’d now recognise that gratingly melodic voice anywhere.

“Y/N? Wh—”

“Here,” you say coldly, shoving the jar into his hands before brushing past him without a single glance. If you’re lucky, he’ll take the hint and go on his merry way.

“Wait!”

You don’t. Your footsteps quicken and all you want is to go far, far away to a place where there’s no Joshua Hong, maybe then you can convince yourself that you’ve truly gotten over him, that you haven’t irrevocably fallen for him.

He catches up to you with ease, slipping into the space in front of you to halt your hasty escape. He thinks his heart stopped beating for a few seconds at the sheet of ice that freezes over your irises, your stare so devoid of its usual warmth and friendliness that it doesn’t feel like he’s talking to you.

“What’s going on?” he breathes out. “You stopped responding to my texts for like, weeks. I’m worried.”

“Work kept me busy.”

“It’s because of that day at the parlour, right? When you overheard Dahee and I talking—”

“Overheard?” you interrupt incredulously. “You weren’t exactly trying to keep it down or wait until after I left to have that conversation.” He bites his lip, guilt flashing across his face. “I know. I—I was so surprised when she told me that I wasn’t thinking properly. I’m sorry, it was really unprofessional of me to do that in front of you.”

“It’s not that! All professionalism between us flew out the window even before you took me on that stupid date to the carnival!”

“Stupid…” Joshua repeats in a low, shocked manner. Genuine hurt wounds his features, but you’re simply too blinded by your pent-up frustration that you don’t pay any mind to it.

“How long would it have lasted?” you continue, the familiar sting of salty tears in your eyes. “How many more of those dates until you decide to break it off like it meant nothing to you?”

“What? Y/N, let’s talk this out, I can explain—”

“—Forget it, Joshua. Just forget I said anything,” you spit, words laced with pure venom. He doesn’t stop you when you briskly brush past him, arms hanging limply by his sides as your footsteps retreat into the distance.

You find Jihoon after a few minutes of aimless wandering at the bakery section, deciding between a loaf of sourdough and a baguette. Still burning with a combination of anger and dejection, you snatch both out of his hands, avoiding his bewildered gaze as you roughly toss the sourdough on top of the pre-packed salad greens.

“Are you… okay?” Jihoon asks tentatively, watching with mild concern as you aggressively shove the baguette back into its original place on the shelf. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you in the car. Let’s just go first.” You don’t wait for his response, already taking the cart from him and striding to where the cashiers are, eager to leave before Joshua decides to change his mind and goes after you.

“H-Hey! Wait for me!”

•••

Jihoon thinks you’re being a little paranoid when you start glancing over your shoulders almost everywhere you go when you aren’t at work, all because you don’t want to run into Joshua again.

He calls it excessive, you call it being cautious.

A small part of you is glad he stopped texting you after that evening in the supermarket, the guilt of essentially ghosting him beginning to eat you alive and threatening to consume your entire being. Yet, another part of you remains unsettled, antsy. Is it because he’s already found someone else, a new object of his affections?

The thought makes your heart sink to the deepest pits of your stomach, and despite all your attempts at convincing yourself not to care—he’s not your boyfriend, why should you?—it still comes back and haunts you every now and then. Perhaps that really was all you were to him, a fleeting phase that fizzles out as quickly as it blossomed.

An exhausted huff passes through your lips. Now’s not the time to think about Joshua Hong, especially as you’re currently hauling a tower of parcels out the post office.

“Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall,” you chant quietly, glancing up uneasily at the one sitting at the very top as it wobbles. Suddenly called in to work earlier today, you weren’t home when the mailman dropped by with the parcels, thus having to pick them up yourself. And being both stubborn and tired from work, you’d rather play a mini game of Tetris than make multiple trips between the post office and your car.

A man comes barrelling in your direction, and in your haste to dodge him you twist your body a little too forcefully, sending the smallest packages at the top crashing down on you. Your eyes flutter shut with dread as your lips twist unpleasantly, the muffled sounds of objects jostling and cardboard hitting asphalt reaching your ears just seconds later.

Not even a ‘sorry’, people these days, you think as you crouch to place the heavier boxes onto the ground, the weight of several stares piercing through your body while you scramble to collect the fallen parcels. Embarrassment burns you inside out, the tips of your ears are searing and you’re starting to feel lightheaded.

A hand enters your field of vision, thrusting the last box towards you. You reach out to grab it as your lips part, ready to thank the stranger for their help when your eyes land on something that causes the words to die in your throat.

A wilting rose hanging from a barbed vine.

“Joshua,” you blurt out. The name feels foreign on your tongue. How long has it been? God, it must have been weeks. Why do you miss him? He hurt you.

You miss him.

“Y/N.” The surprise in his voice is thinly veiled, as though he wasn't expecting you to acknowledge his existence.

With the looming tower reconstructed, you wrap your arms around the bottom-most box, mentally preparing yourself to haul everything back to your car with hopefully no public humiliation this time.

Joshua beats you to it, taking a good two-thirds off with seemingly no effort.

“I can—”

“I watched you struggle from a distance,” he says quietly. “Please, Y/N, let me help you just this once.”

You relent, wanting to get this over with. “I wouldn’t have dropped them if that guy actually watched where he was going,” you grumble, closing your fingers tighter around the edge of the box. “But… thank you.”

“It’s no problem. Just doing what anyone else would.” Joshua shows no sign of exertion, you’ve noticed. He looks at ease, like your boxes are full of nothing more but feathers.

You hate him. Why is he still being so nice to you? Does he not remember how you essentially blew up at him in the dairy aisle? You can barely walk through the entirety of its length without cringing at your behaviour from those weeks ago, yet here he is helping you when he well could’ve feigned oblivion and gone on his merry way. You remember learning about osmium in class years ago: it’s said to be one of the densest, heaviest substances on Earth, but you think you’ve found a heavier one.

Guilt.

The short walk back to your car is silent save for the sound of your feet hitting the pavement, your footfalls subconsciously syncing up like some twisted symphony. You open the trunk for him, watching with the same lump in your throat as he gingerly places down your parcels and arranges them in a way that ensures a safe trip back to your place.

It feels remiss not to say anything.

“Joshua,” you begin tentatively; you almost wish he wouldn't meet your eyes. It’s so much easier to hate him if he was angry at you, hated you back the same way. But his eyes show no trace of resentment as he gazes at you with the same gentleness as he did before things fell apart.

Your bitterness is misplaced, you know that. You’ve come to such a realisation over the past few weeks; it’s always at the forefront of your mind when the nights get a little too quiet, you just didn’t want to admit it to anyone. Including yourself.

You don’t hate Joshua Hong. You hate that you like him more than you should, that you would’ve let yourself fall unreservedly if you knew he felt as strongly for you as you did for him. Maybe it’s the universe that you want to curse at, for allowing you to cross paths with someone as perfect and unattainable as Joshua Hong. It’s always been easier to direct negative feelings towards a person than a seemingly intangible entity.

“I’m sorry for what happened that day,” you continue, “I was upset and acted rashly, and that wasn’t fair to you. So again… I’m really sorry.”

He shakes his head, and your eyes drift to how his blonde hair falls over his eyes messily. His roots must be at least an inch long by now; you’d ponder why he, someone who’s unsurprisingly perfectionistic given the nature of his job, hasn’t gotten them retouched yet, but you feel like you already know the answer to that.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I thought about it a lot, and I understand why you reacted the way you did. I would’ve too if I were you,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “I’d be really mad too if I thought someone was leading me on.”

Your bottom lip hurts from your gnawing. “Were you, then?”

“No, I can promise you that.”

You nod, not really knowing what else to say. You don’t exactly disbelieve him, but words are ultimately just that: words, empty vessels that lose their meaning without something substantive to back them up.

“Do you still hate me?” His voice cracks a little at the end of his question, betraying his anxiousness despite the calm front he’s put up.

“It’s not you I hate.” Mentally, you’re kicking yourself in the shin. Should’ve just said ‘no’ and left it at that, you think bitterly, already bracing yourself for the inevitable follow-up question.

“Then what is it?”

“I hate that…” You can’t do it. You can’t. You feel so stupid. “Never mind. Just—I don’t hate you.” Joshua’s hand wraps around your arm before you can brush past him, fingers securely, but not painfully, pressing into your skin. You exhale shakily as he blocks your path with his body, and you know this time there’s no running away. You’re an adult, for God’s sake, it’s about time you sort out your problems like one.

His intense gaze bores into your wary eyes when you raise your chin to face him once more. “Tell me, please?”

“Fate, I guess,” you say softly after a few moments of hesitation.

His eyebrows furrow, and you let out a dry chuckle upon realising how silly you sounded. “I know, I know, it’s stupid, but… I’m frustrated, you could say, because we obviously have some kind of chemistry and if we’re just gonna be honest with each other today—I like you more than just a friend, okay?”

Joshua’s eyes widen at your confession, completely shell-shocked as you continue, “And I have to tell myself not to act on these feelings because I know we want different things in life right now. It—it hurts pretending I don’t want to be with you, but I know I can’t because it’ll only end badly.”

“Says who?” Joshua asks, voice doused in desperation, something so uncharacteristic of him that the aching pit in your gut only seems to grow heavier and heavier. “I like you, Y/N, and I really do think this can work out. We won’t know if we don’t try.”

The hurt that etches across his face when you shake your head makes him look like a wounded puppy. It’s a sight you never want to see nor want to be the cause of, but you know this is for the best—and maybe after a while you’d still have a chance of salvaging your friendship.

“It won’t work out, and it’d be stupid of us to head into a relationship when we know we don’t want the same thing—”

“You keep saying that and I still have no idea what you’re referring to. What is it that you think I want?” he demands.

“Dahee told me, Joshua,” you sigh, not oblivious to the way his face falls. “She says you aren’t looking for anything serious, which is completely fine, of course. But it’ll only cause more friction in the long run and hurt us both if we become a thing, and I’d rather stay friends with you than have us end on horrible terms.”

Warmth radiates from his palms as he takes your hands in his. “What are you looking for, then? Tell me, maybe I’ll—I’ll be able to reciprocate! Let me prove it to you, please…”

Your heart cracks when you gently pry your hands out of his hold. You can almost hear the chipped pieces falling onto the pavement in soft clinks, sprawled out for the world—for Joshua—to see.

“It doesn’t matter,” you croak out, “it doesn’t matter because this just won’t work out. So don’t prove it, Joshua, because you won’t… and neither do I want you to. I’d never ask that of someone.”

The evening breeze kissing your skin brings an icy sensation as wet trails seep to the edge of your jaw. You wipe the tears away with the sleeve of your sweater; you’ve already abandoned all your dignity by laying your heart bare and confessing to Joshua, crying in front of him is the least of your worries.

He doesn’t say anything as you shut the trunk. Maybe he’s finally realising this is a lost cause. It’s for the best, you tell yourself, and you’ll repeat it in your head over and over again, for as long as it takes to get over Joshua Hong.

“I really do hope we can be friends again… maybe after some time,” you tell him quietly. “Thanks again for today, and I’m sorry. Really.”

The look in his eyes is indecipherable. He opens his mouth to speak, but ultimately decides against it and merely shakes his head. You wonder what it means: a sign of disappointment? Anger? Or is he telling you not to be sorry?

The last one can’t be right, not when he turns and walks away from you, his retreating figure a melancholic, lonely sight.

•••

“I thought I saw you walk in here.”

If anyone asked, Xu Minghao ambushed you.

“And I have to talk to you,” he declares, seemingly materialising next to you out of thin air in the coffee shop just across the street from his parlour—a poor choice considering your plan to avoid Joshua until everything blows over, but you were running errands in the area and needed a pick-me-up.

You look down at the hand wrapped around your wrist. “Can I at least get my coffee first?”

He rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell he’s not genuinely upset. “Yeah, yeah, of course. But hurry.”

“Like I have control over how fast they make their orders,” you mumble, shying away from the playful punch Minghao tries to land on your arm. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I think you know.”

His eyes are gentle, sympathetic when you turn to face him. Absent-mindedly, you toy with the receipt in your hands. “How much did he tell you?” you ask quietly.

“Just enough for me to know what’s going on,” he replies, voice lowered to match yours. “Before you get mad at him for telling me—” you weren’t going to, but you’re glad there’s an explanation for it—“I was the one who told him to talk to me. When one of my colleagues’ been a total mess at work, I have the responsibility to check on them.”

Your throat goes dry and suddenly you've lost all ability to speak. The thought of Joshua—perfect, perfect Joshua Hong—being miserable because of you is like someone dealing a blow to your gut and knocking the wind out of you.

“3012!”

Shooting Minghao an apologetic look, you leave his side briefly to get your coffee. The barista at the counter snatches your receipt and offers you nothing more than a paper straw and an acknowledging nod before going back to calling out orders.

“Please?” he says when you return, “I just want to know what’s going on.”

“Okay.”

Minghao takes you back to his private studio at the parlour with the promise that Joshua took a few days off, hence guaranteeing his absence completely. A small part of you expects a trap like the ones in movies, where it’d turn out to be a big fat lie with Joshua standing in the middle of the room while Minghao runs out and locks you both in, refusing to let you out until you’ve made up.

True to his word, however, the waiting room remains Joshua-less on this Thursday afternoon. The few customers waiting on the couches glance up at you and Minghao as the bell above the door chimes with your arrival, but return their attention to their phones just as quickly. Dahee’s on the phone with someone, but flashes a smile at you in greeting.

Minghao’s studio is located in a separate hallway from the others’, but you can’t help yourself from looking down that particular hallway you’ve been strangely missing. Joshua’s door is closed, not a rare occurrence, but it feels different this time because you know there’s no one behind that door. The humming of the tattoo gun isn’t coming from his room but someone else’s, and unlike your previous visits to the parlour, there will be no Joshua Hong walking out into the waiting area to greet you with a cheeky smile and an affectionate darling.

You feel horrible, or rather, a horrible person. Horrible, horrible, horrible, it rings in your head like a mantra.

Minghao’s studio is tasteful, a bit more spacious than Joshua’s, awash in light monochromes with just the right amount of accent colours from the paintings that decorate his walls. He pats one of the armchairs, the gesture terribly familiar, as he settles into the other. You don’t meet his eyes at first, toying his fuzzy carpet with the tip of your sneaker-clad foot.

“Fill in the gaps for me,” he says softly after a few minutes of silence. The gentleness in his eyes is a much appreciated reassurance that you won’t be harshly judged, and perhaps that is what’s convincing you.

“What happened between you and Shua?”

Joshua has some thinking to do.

“Shua? What are you doing here? I thought you’re taking today off!”

“You look so unhappy to see me, Dahee,” Joshua teases, “can’t I show up to my own workplace?”

“O-Of course you can! I was just surprised to see you, that’s all. Especially after Hao made it very clear that you needed a break.”

He shrugs. “Well, I’m feeling better now, so I figured I’d come back and do some prep work, clean up a bit, y’know? My stuff probably collected some dust while I was gone. Plus, I need to talk to Hao about something.”

“No! You can’t!”

He freezes, eyebrows raising in surprise at Dahee’s unexpected reaction. Her eyes are blown wide with alarm. “I… I can’t?”

She clears her throat sheepishly. “Uh, it’s just that… he’s a bit busy right now in his studio! Why don’t you… go grab a coffee and come back later?”

Joshua laughs awkwardly at the suggestion, wholly confused by her weird behaviour. “It’s fine, I’ll just wait here or in my room. Does he have a girl in there right now, or something?” he jokes.

“Yes!” Dahee blurts before clamping a hand over her mouth. “Well, not like that! No, he doesn’t—I’m gonna stop talking. Forget I said anything.”

“That’s only making me more curious!” His hands find purchase on the marble counter as he looms over her sitting figure. “What’s going on and why are you acting so weirdly?”

Dahee runs a hand through her bubblegum pink tresses, manicured nails the same hue of wine red as her lips. “You didn’t hear it from me, okay? It’s Y/N, the girl you’re into?”

Joshua chuckles nervously, his gaze shifting nervously under her deadpan stare. “W-Who said anything about me being into her? Wait! You mean they’re—” His heart stops before dropping to his stomach like that one ride at the amusement park he’s too scared to try. Would Minghao really be so cruel as to make a move on you when he knows what happened?

“You’re not subtle at all, it’s written all over your face whenever she comes in,” Dahee responds matter-of-factly as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Now, I don’t know what happened exactly between you two, but literally everyone here saw a shift in your mood when she stopped coming.”

Her lips curve into a satisfied smirk when he guiltily tips his chin down like a puppy who got caught tearing up pillows. “And before you freak out—they’re just talking in Hao’s room, nothing like whatever you just thought of—oh my God, please don’t eavesdrop!” She’s too late, he’s already halfway across the room. “What if you get caught?”

“I won’t!” Joshua hisses, still inching closer to the hallway that leads to Minghao’s studio. “They won’t even know I’m here!”

Dahee shakes her head. “If Hao asks: I saw nothing,” she relents. “This is all a figment of my imagination and in reality you’re still at home and definitely not here.” She swivels back around in her chair with an exasperated sigh, picking up her phone so she can no doubt return to her ceaseless scrolling through cat pics on Instagram.

She can deny it all she wants to protect her reputation as the “baddest bitch on the block”—a self-proclaimed title, but he agrees—because everyone and their mother have caught her silently squealing at her phone, feet kicking under the desk, to the point where their cat-owning regulars now bring in new photos for her to coo over.

Grateful for her unorthodox method of showing support, Joshua makes the final few steps down the hallway until he reaches the hardwood door. He’s suddenly thankful for the storage closet just across Minghao’s studio, which will serve as his hiding place should he need a hasty retreat.

Hesitantly, he presses his ear to the door not knowing what to expect. Cursing? Yelling? Crying? None of those options sound very good. He wills his pounding heart to settle and decides to focus on listening—okay, eavesdropping—for the time being.

“—what to do.” That’s you inside alright, he’d recognise your voice anywhere. The sound of your voice makes his heart ache with familiarity, like seeing an old friend who you’ve lost contact with, who now feels more like a stranger than someone you’ve once had a connection with. God, it feels like eons ago since he last spoke to you; he misses your laugh, your jests, your smile.

He misses you.

“I feel so horrible for ending things like that with him,” you continue, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who ‘him’ is referring to. “But I want to save us the heartbreak, because I know I’m not what he wants.”

Wrong. For someone who is so bright, so smart, so witty, you cannot be any more incorrect.

“You don’t know that,” Minghao reasons softly. “Things change, people change, the things they want change.”

Disbelief colours your voice, “Over someone they’ve only known for months?”

“You don’t have to be anything or put a label on it, Y/N. Whether it takes weeks or months for you two to figure out whether you’re right for each other, I don’t think Shua would mind at all. He’s a patient man.”

“Is he?”

“I understand your reservations, I really do, and they’re valid. T-There… there are reasons why he never sought serious relationships in recent years, but they’re not my stories to tell,” Minghao says slowly, choosing his words carefully. “All I’m saying is… yes, maybe he doesn’t understand you well enough the same way you may feel you barely know anything about him, but isn’t that more of a reason to keep trying so you’ll get an answer?”

“I-I guess…” you stammer, “I just… I don’t want him to feel obligated to me, if that makes sense.” Joshua lets out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding, for even the sturdy door that separates you is not enough to filter out the defeated strain in your voice. “He’s free-spirited, and I’m in a place in my life where I want a little more stability. I don’t want him to… feel trapped, or not be able to be himself just because he wants to be with me.”

“I don’t think he feels that way,” Minghao says, “he genuinely likes you a lot. It’s unfair to both of you to make assumptions on how he feels, which is why I really do think you should talk to him whenever you’re ready instead of letting these thoughts stew alone in your head.”

“Yeah, you’re right… thanks for this, Hao. I appreciate it, really.”

“It’s nothing, just doing what any friend would do,” he reassures, “it sucks seeing you two on such terrible terms when you were such good friends before, especially when it can be talked out.”

“I’ll keep you updated, though I’m sure Joshua probably will too,” you add. The tinge of amusement in your delivery eases the tension that settled all around Minghao’s office like a dense fog. Even in such an unideal predicament, he still can’t get enough of the way his name rolls off your tongue.

He hears Minghao speak again over some shuffling in the room. “Oh, that’s right: you still have somewhere to be. You should’ve told me, I wouldn’t have held you up for so long!”

“Nah, I needed that talk,” you say, “and I won’t be late because it’s just the bakery a few blocks away, don’t worry.”

Minghao hums in thought. “Ode Bakery?”

“That’s the one.”

“Special occasion?”

“Mhm, I promised my kids I’d bring them fruit tarts today.”

Joshua backs away from Minghao’s door until he’s firmly pressed against the one of the storage closet. His heart, which had just begun to calm down a little, violently hammers against his rib cage yet again, heartbeat thundering in his ears.

Kids. You have kids.

The sound of approaching footsteps snaps Joshua out of his frozen state. His hand scrambles for the doorknob, shutting himself into the small space just seconds before he hears Minghao’s door fly open followed by you bidding him goodbye. Little did either of you know, the topic of your conversation is a mere few feet away, realisation raining down on him like a ton of bricks.

Suddenly, everything makes sense. Why you always seemed to be busy, or rarely talked about your personal life, or emphasised wanting stability in life and were so certain he wouldn’t want the same yet—it was because you’re a mom. With kids. Plural. Tiny versions of you.

The last thought makes him smile despite his mind still reeling from the revelation. If your kids were anything like you, he’s certain they’re angels.

Joshua rolls over in his bed, facing the nightstand where his digital clock sits. The glowing numbers tell him it’s far past his usual bedtime, but he can’t seem to fall asleep. He wonders if he’s thinking too much about all this, but just as quickly reassures himself it’s the right thing to do: this is a huge deal, and the last thing you need is him taking rash steps in what’s left of your relationship without careful consideration.

When his eyes finally droop shut, he dreams of chubby cheeks and wide, curious eyes.

•••

Your conversation with Minghao weighs heavy on your mind every day whenever you allow yourself to indulge in thoughts about your personal life. He advised talking to Joshua once you’re ready, but the bravado you muster up through what feels like hours of pep talk all but goes out the window every time you pull up his contact. Some days when you’re feeling particularly pessimistic, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to actually do it or if you’d eventually resort to moving away to a new city, changing your identity and leaving your past behind.

Tempting as it is, you really can’t afford to uproot your entire life like that, nor do you think you want to anyways.

Though, it appears as though you wouldn’t have to worry about being the first to reach out anymore, because almost one month after that afternoon in Minghao’s studio, when you’ve finally had the time to check your phone after a gruelling shift, you realise he’s already beaten you to it.

Joshua Hong [23:47] Y/N, hi

Joshua Hong [23:47] can we talk?

Joshua Hong [23:47] when you feel ready, let me know okay?

Your response comes immediately.

•••

The first time you brought him to the café, your heart was pounding from the ambiguity, unsure why Joshua Hong of all people would want to ask you out for coffee. Today, you’re back with the same jittery feeling that quakes every cell in your body and makes your stomach do flip-flops.

Sweat collects in your palms as you wrap a hand around the door handle and push it open, already spying Joshua sitting in the far corner of the quaint café. You sneak a glance at the table by the window you and Joshua occupied all those months ago, finding a young couple seemingly in their early twenties settled into the cushioned chairs.

You squeeze past a server on your way to the table, a mumbled ‘excuse me’ falling from your lips, hardly audible from how your throat seems to have closed up from nerves.

Joshua looks up from his phone as you draw closer, offering a weak smile as you slide into the empty chair across from him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say back awkwardly, busying yourself with taking off your crossbody purse. It sits in your lap, your arms coming around to hug it against your torso for some semblance of comfort.

“I, um… I just ordered the same things we did last time. I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course.” Frankly, you don’t remember what you ordered that day; it’s the least of your worries with everything that has happened since. You do, however, remember his plate of strawberry waffles that was topped with more powdered sugar than days’ worth of the recommended daily sugar intake.

You cease your fidgeting in favour of scanning your surroundings. While you like to think of yourself as a regular of the café, you don’t think you’ve ever sat in the far corner before. Why would you when there are far better seats, like the aforementioned window seats that get plenty of sunlight, or the sofa seats with the fluffy pillows? But for the dreaded conversation you’ll be having, this little corner where no one else other than the staff passes by allows for the most privacy.

Your eyes finally land on Joshua, a jolt of lightning shooting down your spine when you find him already looking back at you, simply observing. You both chuckle uncomfortably.

“Thanks for seeing me, by the way,” he’s the first to make conversation again, something you’re deeply grateful for, “I really appreciate it.”

You shake your head. The guilt that’s been haunting you for months rears its ugly head again, creeping up your throat like bile. Admittedly, you’ve been extremely stubborn, he has every right to be annoyed with you and yet he’s treating you with the same kindness as he’d always shown.

“No, thank you for… actually trying to amend things,” you admit. Nerves sink their fangs into your skin, and you begin playing with your fork for a distraction as you continue, “I’m sorry for ignoring you for ages.”

“It’s okay, you needed space and time to think. I understand.”

The server approaches your table with a smile and places your orders before you. Strawberry waffles and Iced Americano for Joshua, iced oat milk latte and—oh yeah, you did get the chocolate-banana crepes last time.

“Enjoy,” the server chirps before turning on her heel and striding off to another table.

The air around you is still heavy, discomfort still emanating from both of you in strong waves as you pick up your forks. It feels wrong to be in such a happy, cosy place just to eat in silence, avoiding meeting Joshua’s eyes like your life depended on it while he did the same as if you’re strangers who were forced to share a table. You begin doubting the success rate of this meeting; judging by how things are looking at the moment, the air wouldn’t be cleared until one of you spoke.

You desperately rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to get the ball rolling so you don’t throw up from the silence that tightens the knots in your stomach. It hits you out of nowhere as you peer up at him through your lashes when he’s not paying attention—his hair isn’t blonde anymore!

You decide to start there.

“So…” you begin slowly, eyes still trained on the ashy brown colour Joshua now sports, “you dyed your hair again.”

The harsh clang of cutlery against porcelain reaches your ears as Joshua drops his fork and knife on his plate of half-eaten waffles.

“I’m sorry!” he says, “I—I didn’t mean to eavesdrop!”

You blink at him, wholly confused. “What? What do you mean?”

“I overheard you and Hao talking! I stopped by the parlour and happened to hear you two and—I just couldn’t not listen!” Your eyes widen, heart pumping erratically in your chest as shame unpleasantly twists his features. “It was a really awful thing to do but I was so scared you wouldn’t talk to me again, so I thought if I knew what you were thinking I’d be able to understand your frustrations better!”

He pauses his frantic rambling in exchange for several deep breaths, and you watch with an earth-shattering combination of shock and horror as his shoulders rise and fall with his exhales. Only one question is thrumming at your skull: how much had he heard?

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past month after hearing you and Hao talk,” Joshua continues to fill the silence that had once again settled over your table, this time in a calmer, lower tone. “I’ve been thinking about my priorities and where I want to see myself in the long run. I know to you I might look like someone who doesn’t take relationships seriously, or isn’t ready to settle down with a family or anything, but I never once saw you as a fling because you… you mean more to me than that, a lot more.”

Your heart jerks at his words, each one completely saturated with sincerity. “Really?” you ask, voice hushed and wobbly.

Joshua’s nod is resolute. “I thought it all through now, and I’m being a hundred percent serious when I tell you that I’m ready to start a serious relationship again, and that it’s what I genuinely want to try and have. So that… one day…” He hesitates, the rest of his sentence crawling into drawn out syllables. You take the chance to stuff another bite into your mouth to physically stop yourself from interrupting or pressuring him.

It takes a short while until he’s able to finish. “So one day… I can be a good father figure for your kids.”

You’re still chewing when he speaks and immediately start choking on your crepes.

“Y/N! Are you okay?”

Joshua watches in alarm as you repeatedly pat yourself on the chest to stop the heaving. His fumbling hands pass you a tissue while you let out the last of your wheezy gasps, finally able to swallow down your food.

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” you manage, grabbing your glass to take a sip of water. “Sorry, the last part just really startled me because—”

“I know,” Joshua says guiltily, head hanging down with shame, “it’s personal and it was none of my business. I really, really shouldn’t have eavesdropped. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s not that at all.” You bite down on the inside of your cheek as you contemplate on how you should break the news to him, that this was all a huge misunderstanding you didn’t even know you had caused. “I don’t have kids.”

His body tenses up, his stare perplexed as he gapes at you. “B-But… I heard you!” he stutters. “You were telling Hao about how you promised to bring them cakes, or tarts, or something like that! You said ‘my kids’.”

Realisation goes off in your head like lightbulbs and now this all makes sense. To say you feel bad for the man would be a massive understatement. “Joshua… I’m a nurse,” you reveal in a quiet murmur, burying your face in your hands to shield yourself from his reaction. “I work in paediatrics, specifically. Sometimes I call my patients my ‘kids’ because of the close relationship we have.”

“Oh my God,” he mutters, your words slowly processing in his brain, “I’m—I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

You lift your head and offer a sheepish smile. “It’s okay, I get why you came to that conclusion now. I’m sorry for misleading you, even if it was unknowingly… and I’m sorry for all the other stuff as well.”

A light chuckle emits from Joshua. He cards a hand through his hair, the soft tufts passing through his fingers as he shakes his head in disbelief. “God, I can’t believe I thought—never mind. But… whether you have kids or not, everything I said a while ago is still true, I hope you know that.”

“Thank you, I… appreciate it, a lot,” you say, this time locking eyes with him before continuing, “and thank you again for reaching out, I think talking to you again will help a lot with me sorting out my own feelings. Can we… can we start over?” Your gaze, while still hesitant, glazes over with hope, “retry being friends again?”

“Of course,” he agrees immediately, a relieved smile blooming across his face. “I missed talking to you.”

“Me too,” you bravely admit, your smile uncontrollably stretching wider at the thought that things might go back to normal soon, just the way they were. “I missed having you as a friend.”

Joshua raises his glass, half empty with condensation trickling down the sides and dripping off the bottom. “Let’s cheers to that. To new beginnings.”

You can’t help but laugh, though you do as he does as raise your own glass. “With coffee?”

He hums, “Feels more fitting for us than alcohol anyways.”

Secretly, you agree, and your glasses meet in a soft clink.

It’s times like these when Joshua realises that perhaps he didn’t know you as well as he’d thought.

Are you the type to like tomatoes in your sandwiches? Onions? Pickles?

The sandwich shop employee eyes him weirdly when he changes his mind for what felt like the umpteenth time, her gloved hand slowly retracting from the pickles bin. He’s lucky it’s late and there’s no one behind him in line, or he probably would’ve been ushered out ages ago.

He hopes you like tomatoes.

With the sandwich and canned coffee sitting in the passenger’s seat, hilariously strapped into the seatbelt, he takes off for the hospital you work at while vibrant pinks and oranges bleed together over the horizon. He was supposed to pick you up to take you out for dinner, but you apologetically texted him a few hours ago about taking a rain check as your workload for the day proved to be more than expected.

He realises he doesn’t have a plan when he pulls up to the hospital, and after deciding it probably wasn’t the best idea to call you during your shift, he nervously shuffles over to the receptionist in the lobby.

The older woman looks up with a warm smile. “Hi, what can we help you with? Are you a visitor?”

“No—well, kinda, I guess,” he stumbles, “is there a way I can drop o—”

“Joshua?”

He whips around to find you standing a few feet away from him, eyes blown wide in surprise. You’re makeup-free and in your scrubs, so unlike anything he’s seen you in, but as cheesy as it is he still thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s met.

A small group of children in hospital pyjamas form a circle around you, each of them peering at him with round, curious eyes as they take in every detail of the unfamiliar man standing in the middle of the lobby.

The receptionist wears the same kind smile as she asks, “Back from the gardens?”

“Yeah, about to take these guys up for dinner,” you reply, grinning down at the kids before turning back to Joshua, “what are you doing here?”

He holds up the sandwich and coffee. “Thought you probably wouldn’t have time to get food, so I came to bring you these.”

Your smile turns shy. He doesn’t tell you, but it illuminates the whole lobby like you’re the sun and the rest of them are the planets orbiting it. “O-Oh… thank you, really. That’s so sweet of you. I have a break in, like, fifteen minutes, so I’ll be right back, okay?”

He opens his mouth to answer, though his attention is quickly stolen away by one of the kids tugging at your pants.

“Nurse Y/N, who is he?” the boy asks, looking back and forth between you and Joshua.

“He’s my—”

One of the girls mischievously grins up at you like the Cheshire Cat, her eyes twinkling as she chimes, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Her comment sets off a chain reaction, and the rest of the children immediately break out into a chorus of ooh’s and “Nurse Y/N has a boyfriend!” In the blink of an eye, Joshua finds himself flocked by the kids in every direction imaginable as they depart from your side to his. The questions come pouring in right after.

“How long have you been dating Nurse Y/N?”

“Why do you have so many drawings on your neck and hands?”

“What does this one mean?”

“Does she bring you cakes too?”

“Have you kissed before?” This stirs up a symphony of gleeful squeals and feigned gagging noises, causing a scarlet fire to twist up his neck and all the way to his ears. Joshua glances at you through his lashes, the bashful, somewhat dumbfounded expression lingering on your features tells him that the feeling is mutual.

An amused grin tugs at his lips. Cute.

“I like your bracelets, Mister,” he hears one girl marvel quietly amidst the chaos. She runs a tiny finger along the beaded jewellery around his wrist, a sight that has his heart melting in a pile of mush on the shiny tiles.

“I’ll make you one,” he promises gently, unable to contain his fondness when her head bobs excitedly, cheeks round from the hopeful beam that lights up her face.

You clap your hands together to get the kids’ attention. “Okay, okay. Time for dinner, guys!” When they seem reluctant to leave, you try again with a singsong lilt to your voice, “We have pudding tonight.” Despite the numerous disappointed pouts you receive, this does the trick. One by one, they peel away from Joshua’s side, saying their goodbyes before letting you usher them towards the elevators, still chattering amongst themselves and peeking out at him from behind your legs.

“Sorry!” you call out to him, “I’ll be back in a sec!”

Joshua shakes his head in reassurance and tells you he’ll be waiting. A chuckle rumbles from his chest when one of the girls—long, shiny hair gathered into a ponytail and adorned with a sparkly scrunchie—waves goodbye.

“Bye, Nurse Y/N’s boyfriend!”

You shush her shyly before saying something he can’t hear, your footsteps hurrying as she continues giggling behind her tiny hand.

•••

It’s over half an hour later when you finally get a moment’s reprieve from work. Joshua looks up with a smile as you jog up to him in hurried footsteps.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting for so long,” you say breathlessly, holding onto the couch’s armrest for support as you steady your breathing. “I was about to come down when I got pulled away and—”

“It’s okay, your work is important and I’m not in a rush anyways,” he interrupts gently, showing no sign of annoyance at all before patting the empty space next to him. “C’mon, sit.”

“Still, I made you wait way longer than I said I’d take—” Your sentence cuts off abruptly, the guilty look on your face replaced by one of thinly-veiled excitement when he passes you the sandwich. The sight of food has your stomach rumbling, a reminder of how hungry you’ve been from not being able to eat much all day due to work. Eyeing the loaf with the most interest he’s ever seen someone have towards a regular turkey sandwich, you unwrap it and take a huge bite, completely oblivious to the endearment dripping from Joshua’s gaze as he watches you eat.

Finally, you catch him staring, blood surging to your face while you meekly explain, “Sorry, I haven’t had a full meal since this morning.”

“It’s really okay,” he says with a good-natured laugh, “you don’t have to apologise.”

“Thank you, by the way. You totally didn’t have to do this.”

Joshua shrugs, indicating it’s no big deal to him. “I wanted to. I figured if you were working longer it probably meant you wouldn’t have enough time to get food, let alone eat.”

“I probably wouldn’t,” you agree, “you’re a saviour.”

“Well, friends don’t let friends go hungry.”

There’s a wry smile playing on your lips as you recall a similar sentence he once said. “Like how friends don’t let friends rot in boredom?”

Surprise flickers across his features, his eyes soften and he gazes at you tenderly. “You remembered.”

“I remember a lot of things, Joshua.”

Neither of you say much after that, especially after his insistence that you finish as much as you can of your sandwich before going back to work, and you allow comfortable silence to fill the space between you both. He only speaks again several minutes later while you’re folding the other half back into the parchment paper, your break drawing to a close.

“What time do you get off work?”

“2 a.m. if nothing comes up.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“What? No! You should get some sleep! You’ve done enough for me.”

He cocks a brow at you. “How will you get home at that hour then?”

You falter, cursing your decision of not driving to work today as you normally do when you have late shifts. Though in all fairness, it was only because you didn’t expect your dinner plans with Joshua to fall through.

“I—I don’t know… call a taxi, maybe, or see if one of my coworkers can give me a ride.”

“Y/N, I’ll rest easier knowing you have a safe way home. I’m a night owl and I don’t have work tomorrow anyways.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.” A warm, fuzzy feeling surges through your veins at his reassuring smile. “I’ll see you at two then, okay?”

•••

“Thanks for picking me up,” you murmur as you slide into the passenger seat. The interior of his car still looks the same since the last time you were in it; you recognise the deer figurine sitting on the dashboard, the small diffuser next to it that emits faint notes of jasmine, the kimchi stew stain on the carpet beneath your feet which refused to come out no matter how many times he claimed to have cleaned it.

“You’re very welcome, miss,” Joshua replies with a cheeky grin, his corny impression of a personal chauffeur earning a roll of your eyes . You can tell he went home from his change of clothes, having swapped his white T-shirt and jeans for a pair of matching sweats.

You hate that even at two in the morning, Joshua Hong still looks perfect.

“How was work?” he asks after you’ve had some time to settle in. The streets are desolate for the most part with only the lone pedestrian or car appearing every once in a while, awash in the pale glow of the crescent moon hanging above.

“Good,” you hum, “tiring, but good.”

“It really should have clicked in me sooner that you’re a nurse.” Joshua shakes his head, a gesture aimed at himself rather than you. “All the signs just flew over my head for some reason, I was so embarrassed that day in the café.”

Perhaps you’re a little loopy from exhaustion, but you’re unable to suppress the fit of giggles that bubble out of you at the memory. Joshua pouts at you as you double over in laughter, “Don’t tease me! I really had no idea!”

“It’s fine,” you say upon composing yourself, “I just found it funny. In hindsight, I totally should’ve told you ages ago to save you the embarrassment, but I guess it never came up. And it’s not like it’s anything to brag about.”

“Are you kidding? You help people get better, that’s so cool. Seeing you interact with those kids back there only proved me right—you’re genuinely one of the most amazing people I know.”

“Stop it, I’m not,” you deflect, cheeks burning from his praise despite the cool night breeze blowing through the rolled-down window, “you’re gonna inflate my ego.”

“Good, you’re too humble,” Joshua teases, eyes trained on the road ahead. “By the way, I have something for you in the backseat. It’s in the Luna pouch.”

“I didn’t know you watched Sailor Moon.” Curious, you reach into the backseat for the drawstring pouch, holding it to the light coming from the streetlamps outside as you peer inside. “Bracelets?”

He hums in acknowledgment. “One of the girls said mine were pretty earlier, so while I was waiting to pick you up I just decided to make a bunch. I don’t know how many kids you’re in charge of, but hopefully there’s enough so they can each get one.”

Your eyes sting with salty tears and you have to bite down on your tongue so you don’t dissolve into a bawling mess right beside him. As if waiting hours just to pick you up from a graveyard shift wasn’t enough, he even made your patients bracelets in various designs and colours. You tilt your head back against the cushioned headrest while blinking back the moisture that’s gathered in your eyes, your shoulders falling and rising as you keep the volume of your heavy breathing to a minimum. Only one thought swims in your mind, ringing clearer than it ever has in the past few weeks: you don’t deserve Joshua Hong.

He notes your worrying silence and sneaks a glance at you. Though the inky night casts shadows over your face for the most part, he still manages to catch the glaze in your eyes.

“Oh, Y/N, why—”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you croak out, “I’m just… really touched. Just give me a moment and I’ll be okay.”

“If you say so,” he smiles at you softly, “please don’t feel indebted to me or anything, I thought it was a nice thing to do since no one likes being in a hospital.”

“Please stop talking before I actually start crying,” you whimper as you lay your arm over your eyes, the wobble in your voice signalling that your words hold no real malice.

You really, really don’t deserve Joshua Hong.

•••

“It’s because of that day at the parlour, right? When you overheard Dahee and I talking—”

“Overheard? You weren’t exactly trying to keep it down or wait until after I left to have that conversation.”

Joshua bites his lip, guilt etched across his face. “I know. I—I was so surprised when she told me that I wasn’t thinking properly. I’m sorry, it was really unprofessional of me to do that in front of you.”

“It’s not that! All professionalism between us flew out the window even before you took me on that stupid date to the carnival!”

“Stupid…” Joshua repeats in a low, shocked manner. Genuine hurt wounds his features. “Was that really all it was to you? A stupid date?”

You don’t answer.

“Y/N? It was, then?”

Why can’t you speak?

“Y/N?”

“Y/N? We’re here. Y/N?”

Your eyes snap open, a harsh gasp tearing from your throat as your body simultaneously lurches into a more upright sitting position. It takes a few seconds of disoriented blinking for the surrounding environment to register in your foggy mind, the scent of jasmine, the darkness outside, your looming apartment building. You’re in Joshua’s car, likely having fallen asleep sometime during the rest of the car ride.

Joshua frowns, visibly concerned. “Are you okay? Was it a bad dream?”

“It wasn’t stupid,” you blurt out. “It wasn’t stupid to me. I don’t know why I said that, I was angry and I didn’t mean it—”

“Slow down. Take deep breaths, okay?” he consoles, his voice a soft coo. “What do you mean?”

“That day at the supermarket… I said our carnival date was stupid,” recognition flickers across his face briefly as you continue, “I didn’t mean it. I said it in a fit of anger because at the time I still thought you were stringing me along so I felt like an idiot for thinking it meant something, and now I regret saying it so, so much. It wasn’t stupid to me, Joshua, none of it was.”

His eyes flutter shut, pretty pink lips stretching into a serene smile as he shakes his head. “I know.”

“Y-You know?”

“Well, it was just an inkling at first, but when we talked outside the post office and you confessed that you liked me back… it kinda confirmed to me that you didn’t mean what you said about the date.” His lips purse to the side as he considers his next words. “And even when we were at the carnival, I had a tiny suspicion you returned those feelings.”

“How?” you dare ask, heart jack-hammering against your chest, eardrums ringing with the rush of blood, stomach flipping upside down, nails digging into your clothed thighs.

Joshua lays a gentle hand over yours.

“Because… you look at me the same way I look at you.”

Chan’s looking over some bills when Joshua bursts into his shop like a whirlwind.

“Hey!” he greets brightly, either oblivious or ignorant to Joshua’s visibly frazzled state, “are you looking for—”

He jumps when the tattooist slams his palms against the counter with a wild look in his eyes.

“What flowers do you get for someone who’s sick and can I have the prettiest ones you have?”

•••

When you called Joshua earlier to cancel your appointment later that evening due to a horrible cold, you certainly hadn’t expected a text message from him saying he’s on his way. Yet here he is, ringing your doorbell repeatedly as you tiredly shuffle out of your bedroom with your blanket wrapped around your shivering body. You didn’t even have the energy to make yourself look presentable, wearing a baggy set of pyjamas, fluffy mismatched socks, and your hair looking like a complete and utter mess from spending the majority of the day rolling in bed.

You quietly groan aloud into the empty space of your living room. “I heard you the first time,” you mumble to no one in particular, a clammy hand wrapping around the doorknob before slowly pulling the door open.

“I brought stuff to make soup,” is the first thing Joshua says, “but I didn’t know what soup you like best so I pretty much got one of every kind they had at the store—”

“Shua, I appreciate you for doing this, really,” you rasp out, your voice so rough it sounds as though someone grated it with sandpaper, “but please don’t talk so fast, it’s making my head spin.”

Your bleary eyes land on the object in his hands before widening in horror. With the burst of energy you’ve suddenly gained, you leap back until you’re several feet away while almost tripping on the blanket ends that trail behind you.

Joshua, who’s still standing at your front door with the most bewildered expression you’ve ever seen on a person, stares as you bring the blanket across the lower half of your face in a makeshift mask. Perhaps he’s thinking you’ve gone mad with sickness.

“Y-Y/N?”

“I’m so sorry, Shua… there’s something else I’ve never told you before—I’m maybe, kinda, just a teeny bit… allergic to pollen?”

Your confession, muffled through the fabric, has Joshua looking down at the bouquet with what can only be described as pure alarm as dread tumbles down on him like a ton of bricks.

“You’re—you’re what?”

“I know, I know! I’m sorry!” you wail, pressed against your couch like a cornered puppy, “I literally feel so bad that this is happening again!”

“No! Don’t be sorry! I’m sorry! You always get flowers tattooed so I thought—oh my God.”

“I do like flowers,” you sniff before continuing, “it’s like people being allergic to dogs and cats but still loving them. That’s me, but with flowers. I can’t be near them, so I get them tattooed on me.”

Joshua runs a rough hand through his hair, looking up at you and back down at the flowers in his other hand. “What do I do with these?” he asks, sounding just as despaired as you did.

You scurry into the kitchen, yanking open the cabinet that holds spare plastic bags before fishing out one that will fit the bouquet. “Put them in here,” you say guiltily as you slide the neatly-folded bag towards him, “I’d hate to see them go to waste because they’re lovely. My neighbour—he lives a few doors down at 808, his name is Seungcheol—he’s taking floral arrangement classes, I think. He’d like them, if you don’t mind giving them to him instead. It’s 808, don’t accidentally go to 809 because the old lady who lives there will yell at you for trespassing.”

“Okay, good plan, 808, got it,” Joshua confirms, feeling a little more relieved now. While he’s a little bummed the flowers won’t be going to you after all—for a perfectly valid reason—he’s glad they’re at least not landing buds-first into a trash can.

“Make yourself at home,” you call out, looking like the most non-threatening ghost in your bundled-up state as you take tiny steps backwards. “I’ll just be in my room. Feel free to come in whenever, but without the very-beautiful-and-I’m-so-sorry-I-can’t-take-them flowers!”

You’re buried beneath the covers, only visible from the eyes and up, when Joshua enters your bedroom ten minutes later. He smiles sympathetically at the world’s saddest lump before gently shutting the door behind him and making a beeline over to you. He pulls out the cushioned stool from under your vanity, situating it near the foot of your bed so he can sit.

He adjusts the wrinkled corners of your covers. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you croak, “I, like, never get sick—”

“—Mhm.”

“But when I do, I get really, really sick, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get what you mean. Have you taken your medicine yet?”

You stare up at the ceiling, he can practically see the gears turning in your head as you jog your memory. “Like two hours ago, so… I need to take it again in another two.”

“Okay, I’ll start the soup soon, then.”

“Don’t you have—sniff—more appointments?”

Joshua shakes his head, the gentle smile on his face unwavering. “You were my last one for the day, I was gonna see if you wanted to get dinner after.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he parrots back playfully, earning a hoarse chuckle from you. “You should try getting some sleep, I’ll wake you up when the soup’s ready.”

You shake your head. “I’m sleepy, but I can’t fall asleep at the same time. Am I making any sense right now?”

“Not really, but it’s okay,” Joshua laughs, “what do you normally do when you can’t sleep?”

“I don’t know, I usually knock right out because I’m so tired from work.” You let out a low, contemplating hum. “Can we keep talking?” you finally ask, voice small and hopeful like a child’s. “Your voice is pretty, feels like it could lull me back to sleep. Has anyone told you you should be a singer?”

He blushes at your praise, but brushes it off with another laugh. You must be really sick. “Sometimes, I guess. What do you wanna talk about?”

“Hm… anything. Ooh—I know! Tell me what your tattoos mean.”

Joshua looks down at the exposed skin of arms in amusement before back at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Where would we even start, darling? I don’t think there’s an area on my arms that isn’t already inked.”

Your head clumsily jerks from left to right on your pillow as your hand reaches out from under the covers. “There’s always one I’ve been intrigued by.”

“Yeah?” he watches you expectantly. “Which one?”

“The one on your right hand, the ring finger. I saw it when you were driving before. The rose and thorns.”

Your hazy vision doesn’t allow you to catch the abrupt downturn of the corners of his lips, his gaze becomes pensive as he traces the tattoo you identified with his thumb.

“You sure you wanna know?” he asks softly.

You nod. “Tell me, if you wanna.”

Sighing heavily, Joshua gets comfortable on your stool to buy himself some time, racking his brains for where in the story he wants to start.

“You know how Dahee said I’ve never had a serious relationship in a few years?”

“Yeah.”

“Well… I had one… before that all began.” Your eyes widen comically, bringing a small smile to his face. “We were high school sweethearts, you could say. Everyone was so sure we were each other’s person, even my parents thought I was going to marry her. It—it was the best five years of my life.” You stay silent as he continues, and even in your sick-ridden condition you can tell this is a painful memory for him.

“I was just starting out at the parlour when she broke up with me and told me she didn’t love me anymore, and—God, I was a total mess after that because I loved her so much,” a humourless chuckle whistles between his lips, “it was such a rough patch in my life, I felt like I lost the love of my life. Hao was one of the people who helped me through that, and after I thought I got over it all I started having casual relationships and breaking them off before either one of us got too committed.”

Sometime during his retelling your hands have found each other’s. Much like how he rested his hand over yours in his car a week ago, this time it’s your turn to provide some comfort. You’re certain your skin feels uncomfortably clammy, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s warm.

“Deep down, I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I thought if I stopped having serious relationships then I’d never be in that degree of pain again if things did go south.”

He tears his glossy eyes away from your face to glance down at the tattoo with a bittersweet smile. “I got this when I was really bitter about everything. I somehow convinced myself I wouldn’t be able to find love again, so I decided to tattoo a ring on my ring finger, hence the wilted rose and the thorn to remind myself of the hurt I felt. I almost went through with it according to my original plan, but right before Minghao started I had a change of mind, a sudden epiphany.”

Your hoarse whisper barely cuts through the heavy silence in the room. “What was it?”

“I asked him to move it from my left hand to my right.” Realisation dawns on you moments later, and it must be evident in your eyes because Joshua smiles genuinely. “I always knew I wanted to get married someday, even when what I thought would be my first and last relationship ended badly. I moved it to my right hand so when that day comes… the ring finger on my left would be saved for the person I love. And…” he turns back to you hesitantly, “that’s pretty much it.”

“Not cool,” you mumble weakly, sniffling before hastily burying your head underneath the covers, “you’re not supposed to make a sick person cry.”

You hear his laugh, a laugh you’ve grown to love the sound of. “I know, darling. But you asked, and I wanted to tell you too.”

Ensuring any stray tears are now soaked into the sleeves of your pyjama top, you lower the covers to their original position across the bottom half of your face. “No, but—” okay, maybe one last sniffle—“thank you for telling me that… and for trusting me enough to do so. I’m so sorry about what happened with your first girlfriend, but you’ll find love, Joshua. I really do believe that.”

You wonder if you’re seeing things; you swear you just saw a tear roll down his cheek. “Thank you, Y/N. I know I will, and so will you.”

The two of you bask in now the tender moment, your hands still connected. He’s warm. Very warm. You dissolve into giggles several minutes later, and the look on Joshua’s face is nothing short of amusement and fondness.

“What are you laughing about?”

He waits patiently until you’ve let out the last of them. “I’m just thinking… will I remember any of this when I wake up?”

“Probably not,” he responds, head tilted back slightly as he laughs, “but I’ll gladly tell you again if you want to hear it later. For now get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” You burrow further into your bed, lids growing heavily as you struggle to keep your eyes open. You make out Joshua’s silhouette hovering over you, his fingers gentle as he brushes stray hairs away from your face.

He’s adjusting your covers when he hears the quiet, muffled call of his name. He glances at your still figure, your eyes fluttered shut and lashes resting against your cheek. His voice comes out equally hushed. “Yes?”

“Thank you, Joshua. For everything.”

There’s a light pressure on your forehead, something that feels all too much like soft lips pressing against your skin. Maybe you’re already dreaming.

“No, thank you.”

❀❀❀ E N D ❀❀❀

💌 thank you for purchasing our lavender! — dino’s flower emporium

a/n: i’m once again really sorry to everyone who’s been waiting for the third part of this series ;-; it was pretty hard and i got super demotivated in the process bc i thought it was absolute garbage so this went through a few rewrites ahdajhd but i’m really glad i pushed through and i’m decently happy with how this final version came out :’)

if you enjoyed this, i’d really appreciate if you could take a few mins to lmk what you think through replies/tags/asks as it helps me become a better writer and encourages me to keep writing 💗💗 your gentle reminder to support cc’s through giving feedback <3

this was written with my favourite joshushu in mind <3 you know who you are bc only you (and lucy <3 hai wifey) will truly understand all the personalised bits here (@joshuas muah)

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junkissed · 1 year

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baby, it's cold outside

day three of junkissed’s svt season’s greetings event

member — bf!joshua x gn reader genre — fluff, comfort word count — 1.4k synopsis — maybe going skiing on the coldest day of winter wasn’t the best idea. but at least you have joshua to take care of you. warnings — mentions of illness (reader has a cold), mentions of food, temperatures are in fahrenheit (sorry i'm american) notes — lowercase intended, reader is implied to have longer hair

one reblog = one ski trip with the sexy gentleman

“i can’t believe you got me sick!”

"what did i tell you?" joshua frowns, his bare feet crossing the rug to where you lay across the couch. he hands you a mug of tea and you sit up, narrowing your eyes at him.

“i don’t wanna hear it,” you say, sniffling. you cradle the warm mug in your palms before bringing it up to your lips to take a sip. “it was your smart idea to go skiing in the alps during the coldest week of the year.”

“i told you to wear more layers,” he sighs, settling into the recliner next to the couch.

“but whose idea was it to leave the hotel when it was twelve degrees outside?"

joshua rolls his eyes. “don’t act like you didn’t have fun.”

you had enjoyed the trip, a much-needed vacation, but you weren’t about to admit it and prove him right. “see how well that worked out,” you pout, taking another sip of your tea before setting it on the side table and laying back down.

as you shift your focus back to the cartoons playing on the tv across the room, joshua studies you, fondly watching you pull your blankets tighter around yourself. the tip of your nose is raw from blowing it so much, and the trash can by the table is filled with balled-up tissues.

you’d had a cold ever since the two of you came back from your vacation last weekend. the morning after your flight home, you woke up with a sore throat and a nasty fever, and you’d been so sick you hadn’t been able to leave the house.

as the days trudged on, joshua had tried to distance himself from you to avoid catching whatever flu was going around, but he had still taken every opportunity to wait on you hand and foot. you had warned him not to get to close, but he insisted on doing everything for you, getting anything you needed and running to the store to make sure you were stocked up with gatorade and soup. of course he would go above and beyond to make sure you were eating enough and staying hydrated; it’s just how he is.

many bowls of soup and cups of tea later, you were starting to feel a little better, but the reason for that was more him than the medicine you’d been taking every twelve hours. you’d called the doctor and they’d confirmed you were no longer contagious enough to pass along your cold. joshua had welcomed the news, grateful to have the opportunity to get close to you without being afraid of getting sick.

what you were most excited about being better was that you would finally be able to sleep in the same bed again. you hated sleeping alone, not when you could have a perfectly good boyfriend snuggled up next to you every night. the bed was cold without him, and you’d never let him know this, but you kind of missed the sounds of his snores. he was only sleeping down the hall in the guest room, but it was too far away for your liking.

there were a lot of things you missed when you were sick. you hadn’t realized how much you took for granted until you didn’t have it anymore. you missed when joshua would help you wash dishes after a meal, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. you missed waking up next to him, curling your arm around his peacefully sleeping body before falling back asleep yourself. you missed cooking dinner together and having dance parties and singing karaoke until your lungs burned. you hated being sick, but most of all you hated how awful the both of you felt, unable to do the things you loved together.

“why are you staring at me?” you ask, your eyes finding joshua’s staring back at you, and you realized you’d zoned out thinking about how much it sucks being sick.

he smiles and stands up, the recliner rocking at the shift. “sit up for a second,” he says, walking over towards you.

you grab your blankets and sit up as joshua slips onto the couch beside you, the cushions sinking slightly with his weight.

he adjusts himself next to you, leaning back against the arm of the couch and stretching his legs out for you to rest your head on his lap. you lean into him, relaxing into the familiar feeling. he rests his forearm on your side, lightly wrapping his arm around you.

he gathers your hair, sprawled out beneath your head, and brushes it gently with his fingers, laying it across your shoulder. “is this better?” he asks softly, running his hand along your forehead.

“mhm,” you sigh, melting into his touch. you tilt you head backwards a little to look up at him and nod, pulling the blankets up to your chin. “better than ever.”

you stay like that for a while, cuddled up on the couch, barely paying attention to the tv playing in the background. you realize you must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because when you look back up at the screen, the simpsons have been replaced by a football game. but it felt so good finally being back in joshua’s arms, you don’t care about missing your favorite show. you’ve seen every episode, anyway.

it’s late evening when joshua finally gets up off the couch, sliding out from underneath you to stretch his legs. he wanders out of the room, and you crane your neck to watch him enter the kitchen. soon you hear the clanking of pans and the fan above the oven, and a little while later he returns with a bowl in his hand, steam rising from the surface.

you drag yourself upright, making space on your lap as he carefully hands you the dinner he made. “what kind this time?” you ask, peering into the bowl.

“chicken noodle,” he says. “sorry, it’s all we have left. i’ll run to the store tomorrow.”

you swirl your spoon around the bowl, waiting for your soup to cool off a bit. “no, it’s fine, i like chicken noodle.”

he sits back down next to you. “we need groceries anyway, i’ll pick some up on my way from work tomorrow. write me a list if there’s anything else you want while i’m out.”

you bring a spoonful of broth to your lips and blow gently. you never have to ask him for things like this; he always just does them. he always seems to know exactly what you need and when you need it.

you take a sip of soup, the warm liquid soothing your throat. “thank you.”

he smiles. “of course, baby.”

as you eat your soup you watch the sun fall lower and lower through the window, the evening quickly growing dark and turning into night. joshua gets up to plug in the strings of lights draped across your fireplace mantle, and instantly the room fills with bright, colorful pinpricks of light.

you glance up at him standing in front of you, holding out his hand to take your empty bowl. “i can do it,” you say stubbornly, moving the blankets and starting to stand. but you stand up too quickly, and a fit of coughing overcomes you and forces you to sit back down to catch your breath.

he gives you a look. “c’mon, baby, just give it to me.”

you scowl and hand it to him, feeling bad at the fact that he’s cleaning up for you and at the fact that you were unable to do a task as simple as taking a dirty dish to the kitchen.

he reaches down to rub your shoulder with his other hand. “i’m sorry you’re sick, sweetheart,” he says. “if there was anything i could do to make you better faster, i’d do it.”

you sigh. “i know you would, joshua.”

he leans down to press a quick kiss to your forehead, giving you a smile as he walks back out of the room. you can only hope you’ll recover as soon as possible, so you can spend the holiday season with your love without this stupid cold.

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thepixelelf · 9 months

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prompt: "what am i supposed to do while you're gone?" "what do you usually do when i'm gone?" "wait for you to come back"

warnings: implied fwb; recast fic

[nights before] Joshua doesn't do mornings after.

Or, it's more accurate to say, he didn't do mornings after.

He blames that on your unreasonably comfortable bed. After all, what other possible reason could there be to feel so warm, so at home in a place that certainly isn't his. What other reason could he have to want to smother himself to death in your pillows, or to hold you close enough to—

"I gotta go," you mumble, voice filtered in the slow, quiet way the morning always forces on you. His fingers twitch to hold you closer, but Joshua forces his arms to stay limp while you slip away. He keeps his eyes shut while you go through the motions of your routine, listening to the sounds you make. The click of the light switch in the bathroom, the soft pad of your footsteps, the steady woosh of the sink when you wash your hands.

He sits up a bit before you emerge from the bathroom, eyes lazily squinted while he scours the room for his shirt. It has to be somewhere.

"Don't hurt yourself there, buddy," you say when you see what he's doing. Bending down, you pick up his shirt from the foot of the bed and throw it at him. The shirt flops over his head, and you chuckle at how slowly he reacts. Groggily, he pulls the shirt on, a smile creeping its way onto his lips.

"Thanks." He twiddles his thumbs. "Where are you going so early?"

You snort, checking yourself in the mirror before glancing back at him on the bed. "It's ten already."

"On a Saturday. And that doesn't answer my question."

Laughing again at his naturally cheeky demeanour, you explain, "One of my meetings was moved to earlier for some reason. I shouldn't be out for that long, but you're welcome to stick around and gather yourself instead of running out with your tail between your legs."

(Joshua likes your smirk too much to care about the implications of your words.)

He tilts his head to the side. "So you're saying I can wait for you."

"Now when did I say that?" you tease, a brow raised. Even though you don't say it, he hears a yes in the way you smile.

It's always been like this. Playful. Teasing. Anything but serious.

Joshua is too scared to make it anything else.

"Well what am I supposed to do while you're gone?"

You approach the bed, casually putting your hands on your hips. "I don't know. What do you usually do when I'm gone?"

"Wait for you to come back."

Playfully rolling your eyes at his goofy smile, you reach out a hand. "You're such a dork."

Joshua falls back onto your sheets when you poke his forehead, giggles erupting from his chest. These mornings, he could get used to.

The sounds of your footsteps walking away jolt him upright once more.

"Just one," he calls out. "Before you go."

Joshua made one rule when this whole unorthodox arrangement started: no kissing. You'd both reasoned later to change the rule to no lip-to-lip action, although you were very understanding of his hesitancy. He told you there was too much intimacy in traditional kisses — you might fall in love with him if you get to kiss his luscious lips, he'd said.

He shouldn't have been worried about you falling in love, though. Even with the rule, he's in trouble.

You smile as you once again approach the bed, and Joshua knows he's in deep because when you brush back the hair that tickles his eyelids and press a slow, warm kiss on his forehead, he treasures it so much more than anything that happened the night before.

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wheeboo · 9 months

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book boyfriend | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is your book boyfriend. literally. PAIRING. joshua hong x author gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, a little bit suggestive WARNINGS. terms of endearment (love), kissing, teasing ofc WORD COUNT. 1.8k

requested by @gyulbabie: I was just thinking abt joshua and how he's so book boyfriend coded. like he seems like the kind of guy who makes you breakfast in bed ykwim?? excuse me while I go and melt into a puddle <3

notes: yes. i got a bit carried away writing this lol i honestly had a brief fantasy genre idea for this but didn’t think i could pull it off jdfkls i hope u enjoy <3 also i love how everyone has been collectively using these photos for banners lmao

There’s one thing that you love and hate about Joshua Hong.

He’s too perfect.

Even after being together with him for the past two years, he’s still the kind of guy who makes you swoon every time he enters the room. It’s like walking into a crowded ballroom only to have your eyes drawn to him, standing there in all his elegance and charisma. He has this magnetic presence that seems to pull you in without effort, and it's both exhilarating and exasperating.

Joshua Hong𑁋with his warm smile that makes your heart swell, caring and attentive eyes, handsome features, and thoughtful gestures𑁋is the embodiment of the ultimate book boyfriend. That’s what you call it anyway, and he always teases you about it.

And it’s strange, considering that you are supposed to be the one crafting the perfect book boyfriend in your own novel. Being able to experience it first-hand is weird, and at times you can barely look at him because the way he treats you feels almost unreal, like he stepped right out of the pages of your imagination, because gosh, what did you do to deserve a man like him?

As your eyes flutter open at the late hours of the morning, you already smell the delicious aroma of freshly-brewed coffee and pancakes wafting through the air and venturing to your nostrils. You stretch lazily, feeling the softness of the sheets around you.

You’ve gotten used to Joshua bringing you breakfast-in-bed, but it still never fails to make your heart swell with adoration at his act of service every single time. And he’s been doing it often as of recently since you had been working hard to publish a new novel to the world, so he took it upon himself to rejuvenate you with energy first thing in the morning.

After you take the time to wash your face and scroll through emails on your phone, Joshua enters into the bedroom, and you’re blessed with the sight of a boyish grin on his bare face and unstyled hair, which was a little tousled from sleep. The sight of him in his most natural state makes your heart skip a beat.

“Morning, my beautiful sleepyhead.” He’s carefully holding a tray containing a steaming cup of coffee, pancakes, and a bowl of fresh fruits. “How’d you sleep?”

“As grand as ever,” You remark playfully as he sets down the tray on your lap. “You spoil me too much, don’t you think?”

"I can't help it," he chuckles, sitting himself in front of you on the bed. "Thought you needed some extra energy today. You have that meeting with your publishers later, right?”

You nod as you take a sip of the coffee. It's the perfect blend, just the way you like it. “Yeah, later this afternoon.”

“Feeling nervous about it?”

“Hmm, maybe a bit, to be honest.” Then you glance back up at him. “But this is certainly distracting me a little, so thank you.”

He lifts a teasing brow before reaching over to wipe some of the whipped cream from the edge of your lips with his thumb.

“Well, maybe... I can find some other ways to distract you before the big meeting?”

You feel the heat spreading up to your face as you playfully swat at his arm, nearly choking from his words with a mouthful of pancakes. When you manage to swallow, you shoot him a playful glare. Goodness, even after being two years with this man you still have the urge to slap him for being so insufferable and charming all at the same time.

Joshua lets out a laugh, a flicker of amusement crossing his eyes as he sees your expression.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist," he says, trying to contain his grin.

"You're lucky you're cute," You retort annoyedly, trying to hide the smile that's tugging at the corners of your lips by drinking another sip from your coffee. It’s really hard to stay or even pretend to be upset with him for long.

"I am lucky indeed," he agrees playfully, leaning in to cup your warm cheek and pout to your face in his hands. “I mean, it's kind of my job as your little book boyfriend, right?”

Gosh, you wonder how much he would tease you if you admitted that more than half of your book boyfriend characters were inspired him. Oh, he’d absolutely make sure you wouldn’t be able to see the light of day, because he’s not some fictional character prodding its way into your imagination and spilling aimlessly onto a couple pages𑁋he’s real, more real than you can ever imagine. His charm, his kindness, and the way he loves you unconditionally have seeped into your writing.

“You really like that title, hm?” You ask after taking a bite out of strawberry.

“Too much.” He grins cheekily, before his face softens at your apprehensive look. “But I know you’ll do great at the meeting. I believe in you.”

You smile shyly, knowing that if you look up to meet his gaze your heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“Thank you,” You mutter sheepishly.

Joshua stands up and places a kiss to the top of your head. “Come out when you’re all done, okay? I want to pick your outfit for the meeting.”

His words make you roll your eyes. You catch him sending you one final wink before stepping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind, leaving you to feast on the remains of your breakfast with a contented smile.

You feel Joshua’s fingers brush against the skin of your neck as he loosely steadies the necklace around you, clasping it together. He insisted that you wear this particular necklace today, saying that it would bring you good luck for the meeting with the publishers. The touch of his fingers against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but notice the subtle glint in his gaze as you meet his adoring eyes in the mirror.

"You look stunning, love," he murmurs lowly, his fingers lingering just a few moments longer on the necklace.

You feel the heat bloom to your cheeks as you turn around to face him. “It’s all because of you, you know.”

He steps closer to you, letting his hand gently graze lightly down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"You've got this," he says, voice soft and reassuring. "They'll love your new novel. I know they will.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

His simple words embrace you like a comforting hug. Joshua lets a finger trail to your chin, gently making you look back up at him. He leans in and presses a very brief, yet tender kiss to your lips, and you suddenly feel like you’re floating off the ground. As the heat of the moment lingers, you feel him smiling into the kiss. But then, he gently pulls back, his hands still cupping your cheeks.

“You’ll get more kisses later, I promise,” he teases and smoothes out your outfit that had been handpicked by him. “Now, go conquer that meeting, okay?”

You could only give him a nod. Locking hands with his, you both leave the cozy embrace of your bedroom and venture into the day ahead. Joshua walks with you to the front door, and before you step out, he leans in for a quick peck on your cheek.

"Good luck," he tells you, making you smile as well as shoot a surge of confidence through you.

Much to your prior expectations, the meeting with the publishers goes smoother and way better than you had initially thought. They seemed genuinely impressed with your new novel, praising your storytelling and the way you presented yourself and the characters, the development of the plot, and the overall depth of the story. By the time it finished, you can hardly believe the positive feedback you had received. It felt like a complete fever dream. You weren’t dreaming, were you?

The moment you step out of the publisher's office, reality starts to sink in. You weren't dreaming𑁋the praise and positive feedback were indeed real, and you can feel the excitement and joy bubble up inside you. You can't wait to tell Joshua the moment you get home, because after all, he had played a part in helping you prepare for the presentation and perhaps induced a magical good luck charm with the necklace around your neck after all.

And when you catch sight of him sitting on the couch with a book in his own hands, you already find the faint smirk making its way to your face. He looks up as you enter, eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

“How’d it go? Did they like it?” He stands up from the couch as you approach near him.

You don't need to say a word; the smile on your face speaks volumes that Joshua could pinpoint right away. Instead, you decide to show him just how happy and grateful you are by closing the distance between you and him with a firm kiss to his lips.

It catches him off guard, and he stumbles backward, falling back onto the couch with you following suit on top of him. It doesn’t take more than a single moment for him to reciprocate the kiss back equally. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you, with the room filling with the sounds of your soft sighs and gentle laughter.

When you eventually pull back, breathless, you look into his eyes with a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear.

"That good, huh?" he chuckles, his voice own slightly breathless too.

You lean your head against his chest. “Way better than I thought.”

You feel his chest vibrate with laughter as he keeps you securely wrapped in the protective embrace of his arms, and you crawl up just a bit to meet him almost eye-to-eye. He places a playful kiss to the tip of your nose as you slowly begin to relax against him, finding yourself listening to his steady heartbeat with the worries of the day finally distancing away.

“How about we celebrate?” You ask him, eyes lighting up to the thought.

This intrigues him, obviously. “How so?”

“Well, we can start with more of those kisses that you promised𑁋”

That was enough for you to find yourself being flipped over clumsily on the couch and nearly tumbling off the edge, causing both of your laughter to mingle into the air as Joshua hovers above you with a hand at your waist to keep you from falling, a bit of an embarrassed flush to his face. Gosh, he’s adorable, and he’s all yours.

“Mhm, keep going,” he muses.

“Hmm, and then maybe order some takeout? And have a movie date here at home...”

“I do like the sound of that.” Then he leans down to you, his face just a few inches away from yours. “But let’s start with those kisses, shall we?”

Joshua Hong is better than any book boyfriend you can write, anyways.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle

#kflixnet #k-labels #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #joshua imagines #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong fluff #joshua hong x reader #hong jisoo imagines #hong jisoo fluff #hong jisoo x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt #seventeen

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minteagalaxea · 2 years

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white collar crimes | s.v.t

the white collar crimes division of the bureau focuses on investigations with relations to organized crime, including various types of fraud and financial crimes. while the crimes themselves are generally harmless, the washington dc unit is known for their high-profile criminals and arrests.

xu minghao: special agent in charge

ssa xu minghao serves as the unit’s leader with a specialty in international fraud, with an innate understanding about how stolen belongings (identity, money, etc.) move on an international level, and his straight-laced nature provides his team with a calm sense of direction.

minghao’s more playful nature emerges when the team gambles off-hours with candy on the line, gambling with a high-risk, high-reward mentality that generally pays off for him; however, even then, he serves as one of the more honest players among the team.

yoon jeonghan: second in command

banned from casinos from playing blackjack, ssa yoon jeonghan acts as a part of the unit’s one-two punch, with his cunning nature on full display in the interrogation room as he manages to trick criminals into revealing more information, earning their ire as he cleverly deduces locations for money.

jeonghan also is known for his cheating propensities outside of the interrogation room, having a tendency to lightheartedly swindle his teammates from candy in games of poker (of which he is conditionally banned from playing).

hong joshua: technical analyst

the second half the wcc’s one-two punch, ssa hong joshua’s time spent off of his laptop researching is used to help bait criminals into revealing their plans, with his more innocuous nature and genteel demeanor being less unnerving than his partner’s more sly approach.

due to his close relationship with fellow teammate jeonghan, he is also conditionally banned from team poker due to their signaling tactics—outside of poker, however, joshua is particularly good at gin rummy and two-player gambling games.

wen junhui: reconnaissance

having spent his college years gambling (as well as flirting his way out of being banned from casinos), ssa wen junhui’s background and knowledge of cons places him as the wcc’s reconnaissance, where his acting skills lets him pull off extremely convincing cons of his own.

junhui’s gambling experience makes him the member to beat when playing with his friends, though he will also play to show off his cardistry as the team’s dealer when he opts out of playing, leaving the unit confused about whether or not he is saving the good cards for himself because of it.

lee seokmin: press and communication liaison

agent lee seokmin’s affable and sweet nature endears him to the general public as he delivers public service announcements to the masses, and also for being the team’s additional recon if jun is sick—a slight rarity, due to his guilt for when he must swindle others.

seokmin’s skills as an actor comes with a double-edged sword when playing group gambling games, as he is either extremely expressive or extremely poker faced, which he uses to his advantage to dupe the others and win the pot for himself or lose the pot stupendously.

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jeonstellate · 9 months

Text

in this dark: dawn

you ask the moon to bless your first love with his greatest before you leave his life indefinitely.

๑彡 hong jisoo x afab!reader

๑彡 strangers-to-lovers!au, arranged marriage!au — angst(?), fluff

๑彡 paragraph format — 2.6K words

masterlist | in the dark: dusk

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 this is the second half of the two-shot, in the dark. i highly recommend reading the first half — linked above — prior to opening this :]

๑彡 same as dusk, the title is taken from bobby’s in the dark.

Shortly after your introduction to Joshua, you began spending most of your days with him. Not voluntarily for either of you, though, but rather due to the strong wills of your respective mothers.

As such, you unintentionally learned a lot about one another. More specifically, you observed how kind and considerate he was — not just to you, but to everyone around him at all times.

Honestly speaking, you were subtly trying to find flaws in him — to make it easier to despise him. It wasn’t his fault he was your fiancé, yes, but you needed a reason to not succumb to your parents’ desires immediately. Whether you love him or not, you’d have to marry him either way — so it’d be best to reserve your heart for Suho until you no longer can.

Your parents might dictate who you marry, but you refuse to let them dictate who you give your heart to, too.

"May I know the reason for your tears, my love?" Suho announced his presence with worry laced in his soft voice.

You didn’t even realize tears had spilled over your cheeks until he arrived. "I think I love you." No matter how much you wanted to say it directly to his face, you didn’t want to break your agreement. Thus, you opted to look at the moon instead.

"Is the thought of loving me that appalling that it warranted your tears?" Suho sounded taken back and hurt all at once.

"Yes," you reply immediately — not sparing his feelings a thought, "because I don’t deserve to love you if I can’t proudly tell the world."

Joshua quite possibly didn’t possess any flaw. In the short period that you’ve known him, you couldn’t find anything that you could loathe him for no matter how hard you tried.

You found comfort in knowing that your fiancé seemed to be a good person, without any hidden sides. Yet, at the same time, it frustrate you to no end that you simply couldn’t hate him.

Joshua was too good for you: you who couldn’t be honest with him; you who couldn’t even be proud of who you truly love.

"Josh," you called his attention away from the book in his hands, "have you ever been in love?"

"I have," he replied in a beat. "Why?"

"Do your parents know?" You were understandably curious. With the patriarchal society, almost everything favored those of the male gender. As such, his parents knowing about his out-of-contract love made more sense than your parents knowing about yours — especially if that meant they would do everything in their power to force that love out of you had they known.

"I did tell them I was in love with someone prior to officially meeting you, yes."

"To try to stop this arrangement?" You immediately noticed how he looked reluctant to reply to your honest guess. "It’s alright, you can tell me. I don’t mind."

"It was a futile attempt," Joshua chuckled soundlessly without any humor.

You nodded, already expecting that answer given the status of the situation you share. "For what’s it worth, I think would’ve done the same had my opinion weighed as much as yours."

A comfortable silence engulfed you two once more, as you both went back to reading the respective books in your hands. However, before the world within your hands swallow you once more, you heard Joshua murmur.

"I’m glad this arrangement led you to me, at least."

You and Joshua excused yourselves for a promenade whilst your mothers excite themselves with finalizing your wedding.

You tried not to notice how everyone seemed to follow you both with their gazes, not so subtly as they might imagine. Neither were their whispers, however inaudible their words might be from where you both were walking.

Albeit you were clueless on what could’ve possibly piqued their interests about you and Joshua, you didn’t dwell on it. After all, the village gossip would reach you soon enough — like it always did, regardless of your curiosity.

"I have something for you," Joshua broke you out of your reverie. He then fished something out of his pocket and held it on his palm.

"A necklace . . . ?" It wasn’t just a regular necklace. It wasn’t something that was professionally done by a jeweler nor was it purchased in a store. Rather, it was put together by less experienced hands; crafted carefully with love.

Just like every handmade item Suho had given you.

"I made it for you," he smiled shyly.

You returned the gesture with one that reached your eyes. "I love it. Thank you."

Unbeknownst to you, the prickling feeling of being watched by an uncomfortable number of eyes immediately felt numb when your gaze met Joshua’s. Suddenly, it was just you and him in the library of your home — away from the prying eyes of your village.

"Can I . . .?"

"Of course."

It wasn’t until the sun had set did you get a chance to look at the necklace Joshua had given you that morning and the bracelet Suho had given you all those months ago side by side. It wasn’t until then did you notice that those two handmade jewelries had a similar craftsmanship — as if they were made by the same hands.

And it wasn’t until then did you reprimand yourself for going too far in wishing that Joshua and Suho were the same person: to the point of delusion.

As you anticipated, the gossip eventually reached your ears. Despite the people at the park making it seem like it was specifically about you and Joshua, it wasn’t necessarily the case. Unfortunately, even with that information, there was no relief that followed.

After all, most of the village believe the rumor was about you, anyway.

The gossip was as vague as it could be. Apparently, someone was caught sneaking out of their home once the darkness surrounds to meet the person their parents wouldn’t approve of. Of course, that someone wasn’t actually seen with such person, but that flaw didn’t mean anything to anyone. After all, the most controversial version was considered as the truth by the eyes and the ears of the village, regardless of what actually happened.

You and Joshua weren’t the only betrothal in the village at this time. However, undoubtedly, for a reason you couldn’t fathom, your engagement seemed to be the most popular one. (Popular for people to try and stick their noses into, that was.)

And, albeit the rumor didn’t exactly specify which of you and Joshua was ‘caught,’ you had a pretty good faith that it was you.

"I need to tell you something," you and Suho both uttered at the same time. "You can go first."

"I insist, my love." You hurried added, unwilling to break the news to him right away. "You should go first."

When you agreed to Suho’s proposal the first night you met, you weren’t really aware of what it fully entailed. You merely wanted to love in your own accord, and to feel loved in return — without the pressure of needing to, just because you were set to spend the rest of your lives together.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what romantic love was back then — as your parents were also arranged and merely treated each other with respect. You were only exposed to their dynamic as occasionally playful partners-in-crime, which lack any romance despite its happy exterior. It was a curious thing you even dreamed of any romance at all, but you did and you ran with it — insisting that your marriage would have romantic love in it, even if one-sided.

Never did you expect that a taste of romance would be this addicting. Nor did you expect to grow attached to the person that introduced such feeling to you — to the point that you were reluctant to let them go, despite knowing right from the beginning how temporary your arrangement was.

"Night, did you hear?" Suho voice was as soft and loving as ever, even if he was obviously trying to get your attention. "The rumor going around the village?"

"I apologize, I got lost in my thoughts for a moment," you expressed your sorry first. "But, yes, I have. What of it?"

You wanted to applaud yourself for successfully sounding so unaffected by the mention of the gossip. Especially when, in truth, it actually triggered an alarm inside your head. Why was he—

"I think I’m the person the rumor is referring to," he confessed. "Thus, for your sake, we must conclude our arrangement tonight."

To say that you were stunned would be an understatement. In a moment of insanity, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

Then you realized what the sequence of events must’ve looked in Suho’s perspective. "I’m not laughing at you, please don’t misunderstand," you started to clarify. "Rather, I just find it amusing how we came to the same conclusion after hearing such rumor."

He made a sound of understanding and let it hung in the air for a moment, before he broke the silence once more. "So, you agree . . . tonight is all we have left?"

"As much as it pains me, the risk of getting caught grows exponentially with each night." The sadness was now notable in your voice. There was no point of masking it now, after all, not when the inevitable truth had been addressed. "At least we still have tonight."

"We still have tonight," Suho echoed in agreement.

No one was willing to separate from the other when the usual time to depart came. You both kept on finding ways to prolong the night and delay your inevitable separation.

But, alas. No matter how many new conversation topics either of you brought up, the sun would still take the moon’s place at the same time it always did.

"Back then, we both agreed that it would be best if we don’t see the other’s face . . . to prevent any gossip from spreading." You started your last attempt, right when you noticed that the darkness that surround was slowly getting lighter. "But—"

"—But one spread, anyway," Suho finished for you.

"Right," you immediately agreed. "Since it came down to that, anyway, I wish— I wish to express my gratitude directly to you, rather than letting the moon convey my heart."

"You want us to reveal our identities?"

"Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course."

Suho thought for a fleeting second, as though he didn’t actually thought about it at all. "I’m not opposed to you seeing my handsome face. I supposed it’s about time."

You chuckled, "Whatever you say."

You heard him chuckle along. "Shall we close our eyes, face each other, then open them?"

"Sure, let’s do that."

You silently thanked the moon for everything she had done for you so far. You thanked her for sending Joshua, the gentleman that he is. You might not love him yet, but you certainly care for him to an extent. He not might be your first choice for a husband, but you could tell he would make a fine one — which, considering your circumstances, was all you could really hope for. Then of course, you thanked the moon for sending Suho. Your shadow and, simultaneously, the light of your life. The person that taught you how to love and how to feel loved.

"On the count on three . . ."

You sent a quick prayer to the moon, hoping that she would grant it graciously like she did that faithful night when you met Suho.

One . . .

You prayed that she send Suho a betrothed that is similar to how Joshua is to you. Someone that he can love easily. Someone that can make him happy. Someone that can reciprocate his affections and surpass them in time, as he deserves.

Two . . .

You wished that she send Suho his perfect match. Above all else, you just wanted him to live the happiest life he can possibly have — content and with no regrets. For everything he had done for you, you figured he deserved at least that much.

Three . . .

You fluttered your eyes open.

And, just as quick did your eyes adjust to the light of the stars, did they mimic planets after finally gazing upon Suho’s face.

"Jo— Josh . . . ?"

Much later, another gossip had the village talking once more. Apparently, the person who had been seen sneaking out in the middle of the night had finally been identified. Much to the gossip gallery’s dismay, though, he wasn’t actually meeting anyone in secret. Rather, he was merely using the night as a cover to secretly eat from another family’s mango tree.

It certainly was an interesting turn of events.

However, no one had the most peculiar reaction to the revelation than you and your husband, Joshua.

As it turned out, the man in the gossip was actually one of Joshua’s closest friends. Thus, more than one year after your wedding, you both asked that particular friend to be your first child’s godfather.

You both took the liberty not to fill anyone in about the significance of your decision. For you, it was enough that you were honoring his indirect assistance in the flow of your love story in such a sacred way — regardless of his obliviousness to the real reason.

Neither of you could even begin to think how you two would’ve turned out had he not been routinely seen leaving his house around midnight. You two would still get married, of course, but there would definitely be an unspoken longing attached to each of your hearts — both yearning for someone that would literally be just in front of them.

"My love," your husband appeared by the front door of your home, a folded blanket on one hand. "Aren’t you cold?" He then joined you by the front porch, without waiting for an invite.

You draped the blanket on both of your shoulders, sharing its warmth to Joshua. "Just a bit." Like what you’ve often done, your head found its way to his shoulder. And, likewise, his hand found your hip. "Did I wake you?"

"No, the bed just felt colder." Although you have been used to the sweetness of his words even before your marriage, they still never fail to make your heart flutter. "Is something bothering you? Is our Hyewol okay?"

"I think she’s asleep right now, I haven’t felt her move since you told her good night." Your reply didn’t directly address his concerns, but you knew it was enough. "I just couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided to get some fresh air for a bit."

"Shall I warm up some milk?"

"No, that’s okay. Just stay here with me." You snuggled closer as an attempt to keep him next to you. A comfortable silence followed suit, with you and your husband just looking up to the star-filled night sky. "Suho?"

Calling him by his pseudonym was a difficult habit to get rid of. Especially whenever you two are stargazing, which was something you often did as Suho and Night. "What are you thinking about?" Nowadays, it had become a term of endearment — almost synonymous to ‘my love’ that he insisted on calling you.

"Was our spot your hideaway place, before I came in the picture?"

"No," Joshua responded almost instantly, "that night was the first time I went there." He then added as an afterthought, "Thinking back on it now, I’m not quite sure how I even found you. Our spot is well-hidden."

"Then why—?"

"I don’t know," he didn’t even let you finish your question — already knowing what your follow up inquiry would be without hearing it being asked. "My feet just . . . led me there, I suppose.

"I’ve always thought it was the universe’s doing. Almost like I was meant to be there that night, to meet you."

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sluttywoozi · 1 month

Text

Golden Hour | husband!joshua x reader

After a long day of surf and sun, Joshua somehow still has the energy to fuck you into the hotel mattress. Being in love (and obsessed) with his wife always pays off.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k | Pairing: hjs x reader | Genre: smut

Part of the Husband Joshua series! Can be read as a standalone

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Warnings: idk how to surf so if this is wrong blame wikihow, possessive!josh, drink mention but it doesn’t have to be alcoholic, oral r. rec., spitting, some spanking, fingering, piv sex, breeding kink but they don't want kids, creampie(s), cockwarming

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, on some form of birth control, referred to as a wife, wears a bikini (every body is a bikini body), wears a dress

Joshua raises a hand to his face, holding it above his eyes to block the glaring sun as he scans the crowded shore for you. He’s been out in the water for a while, trying to improve his surfing skills and also perhaps trying to impress you, just a little. Neither you nor him have been to the beach since your honeymoon, and he doesn’t want you to think those lessons he splurged on while you were having a spa day were for nothing.

He’s caught a few waves so far but hasn’t made it close enough to the shore to see your face, so he has no idea if you’ve been watching him or if you’ve just been reading and listening to music. He won’t be hurt if you haven’t had your eyes on him, but he does want you to see him ride at least one wave.

He hears some murmurs from the few other surfers in front of him and turns around, instantly seeing what has them talking. There’s a big one coming in, building and building and building, and if he starts paddling now, he just might make it.

So he leans forward onto his stomach, his arms powering through the water even as his muscles begin to ache from so much use. The ocean beneath him starts getting sucked in, contributing to the rolling wave, and he prepares himself to pop up and find his balance.

His heart races as he takes off, getting his feet beneath him and standing on steady legs, his arms loose and his eyes trained on the shore. He rides the wave as far as he can, bailing when it starts to peter out and immediately swimming up to catch his breath. Climbing back onto his board, he looks around for your rented rainbow sun umbrella, grinning when he realizes he’s much closer to it than he thought he’d be.

You’re not under it though, his smile dropping as he starts to survey the beach, searching for you. He can’t seem to find you, and for some reason that has his heart racing again, this time in anxiety rather than exhilaration.

“Joshie! That was amazing!” You exclaim from somewhere to the left of him, your voice just a bit faint but still easily recognizable. He whips his head over, his shoulders relaxing as soon as he sets eyes on you, wading waist deep in the clear blue water and making your way toward him.

He beams and hops off the board, closing the remaining distance and catching you with one arm as you launch yourself at him. The other keeps hold of his board, though he wishes he had both hands free to hug you back.

He also wishes he could feel your skin against his, but his swim shirt is still in the way and he won’t be able to take it off until you let go of him, which he’s not going to ask you to do any time soon.

It’s silly but he’s missed you while he was out surfing, even though it’s only been a couple of hours. You’ve been on vacation for three days already and he’s grown used to sharing every minute with you, being in your presence for each breath in and each breath out, bar bathroom breaks and the one nap you took without him when he wanted to explore and you wanted to stay in.

He wishes it could be like this all the time, but he’ll settle for the rest of the week if only because he knows he’ll have you for the rest of his life.

Too soon, you pull away, sliding your hands from his shoulders to rest on his chest, your touch appreciative and the slightest bit possessive. His hand on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh exposed by your bikini. You let him pick out your swimsuit today, and while some men might want to cover their wife up, he’s the opposite.

He thinks it’s hot that people are looking at you, wanting you, not knowing he’s the only one you’ll ever go home with. They realize when he presses his lips to yours in a claiming kiss, when he lets his hands wander a little, when they notice the matching rings on your left fourth fingers.

He doesn’t even know if anyone is looking at you now, too busy staring into your eyes to notice anything else, but he feels the urge all the same. You can already tell what he wants, leaning in to meet him in the middle as he kisses you deeply, slowly, sucking at your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth when it opens on a gasp.

His hand slips down to your ass, squeezing it over your swimsuit hard, pulling your cheek up and over, surely tugging at your pussy too. You squirm against his chest, pressing closer to him as your fingernails dig into his pecs.

He remembers you’re at a public beach when a wave crashes into you, and thank goodness it did because he was millimeters away from slipping his hand into your bikini bottoms so he could find out if you’re wet from the water or wet for him.

He pulls away and laughs, shifting his hand to your lower back and pecking you one last time before breathing, “Should we head back to the room?”

“Yeah, I think we should. Wanna lay out enough to dry off first?” You offer hopefully, and while he kind of just wants to throw you over his shoulder and haul you to the hotel now, he knows you hate tracking water through the clean lobby.

“Sure, baby, we can do that,” he smiles fondly, giving you one last squeeze and releasing you. His board goes under one arm and you go under the other, your hand coming up to hold his as you walk back to the shore together.

He splits off from you to return the board to the surf shack, promising he’ll bring back one of those coconut drinks for you to share though he knows you’ll likely have most of it.

The line isn’t too long for the return of the board or the purchase of the coconut drink, thankfully, and he walks back to you with care, not wanting to spill even a drop.

You’re on your stomach to the side of the umbrella when he arrives, not under its shade but close enough that it’s obviously yours, a thick terry cloth blanket spread out under you with just enough room for his body too. He sighs contentedly as he sits next to you, handing over the drink and smiling as your eyes widen with glee, your lips pursing around the straw to take an excited sip.

He reaches for the hem of his surf shirt and yanks it off, wringing it out away from the blanket and laying it flat on the edge of the lounge you no longer occupy. You roll over to lay on your back and he feels your eyes on him like a physical touch, your gaze hot and familiar on his chest and stomach.

He loves how you look at him, loves that you’d rather stare at him than at the beautiful beach around you, loves even more that you’re obsessed with his body just like he’s obsessed with yours.

He also loves that this way, he can look at you too. You shift up onto your elbows, your breasts jiggling with the movement, and he feels a bolt of desire shoot straight down his spine as he lets his eyes lovingly travel over every available inch of you. Over your soft tummy and your squeezable hips and your perfect, perfect thighs. Thighs he wants to suffocate between. Thighs he wants to sink his teeth into. Thighs he wants to hold down to the bed as he-

“I think I’m dry enough. Are you?”

He clears his throat and attempts to clear his head, but images of you still swim through his thoughts, even as he nods and tugs at his board shorts to subtly adjust himself. They don’t feel as wet between his fingers, just damp, and when he reaches for his shirt, it’s close enough to dry that he only cringes a little as he pulls it back on.

You pack up together quickly, and Joshua is almost relieved when you reach for your dress and tug it over your head, needing a reprieve from your near naked body. He’s less relieved when he remembers that it’s a fucking sundress.

Of course it is, that’s all you’ve been wearing on this trip, and he doesn’t know how he forgot. This is worse, because it’s his favorite article of clothing on you, and because he knows all you’ve got on under it is an easily untied, flimsy little bikini.

It takes everything in him not to pull you into one of the changing cabanas, bend you over, and make you scream for him; he manages somehow, the knowledge that he can do the latter two when you get into the room tiding him over, but only just.

He’s silent while you return the umbrella, his hand tight around yours as you walk through the lobby, and he’s glad you know him well enough to understand that he’s not upset or annoyed, just nearly out of his mind with desire for you.

The wait for the elevator feels like eons, especially when he looks at you in the reflection of the metal doors, your form slightly fuzzy but clear enough for him to see the rise of your tits under your dress and the way the hem flutters gently over your thighs. Those thighs…

The doors part with a ding and you pull him inside, pressing the button for your floor before the elevator fills with other guests, leaving you and Joshua at the back. You’ll have to maneuver in between them to get out but it means he can slide his hand up your dress and squeeze your ass again, his fingers slipping under your bikini to touch your bare skin.

They creep closer to the heat between your legs with every stop, and he’s just about to reach your pussy when the elevator lands on your floor. He reluctantly takes his hand back and rights your dress, murmuring, “Excuse us,” as he weaves around the few people left. When the doors close behind you, he twines his fingers with yours and breaks into a jog, tugging you to the room and grinning as a few bitten back giggles escape you.

He bounces on his toes as you dig the card out of your bag, your trembling fingers inserting it into the lock and his hand turning the handle as soon as the light glows green. He pushes the door open for you, following closely with his other hand tight on your hip, his dick already hard and throbbing in anticipation.

You’ve barely set your bag down before he’s steering you to the bed, crowding you up against the edge, and pressing your shoulder to bend you over. He flips up the hem of your dress and tears down your bikini, knocking your legs apart with his own and pushing his left knee up until yours rests on the bed. He’s sure you expect him to drop his shorts and sink right into you, which is probably why you gasp when he falls to his knees and slaps your ass with both hands before spreading your cheeks apart and shoving his tongue inside of you.

You taste fucking divine, the beloved flavor of your pussy tinged with salty seawater, and he groans deeply into you, fucking his tongue in and out of your entrance and swallowing as his mouth fills with saliva and your arousal.

He fucks you with his tongue until you’re whining and shaking above him, tilting your hips to improve the angle and rocking into his movements. The leg keeping you up starts to quiver, and he pulls away just long enough to gasp out, “On the bed, baby, get on the bed.”

You listen, clumsily climbing up and stretching out for him, face down, ass up, just like he likes you. He smacks your ass again just because he can before spreading your pussy open with his thumbs and spitting on your clenching entrance. Some of it seeps inside of you and some of it trails down to your clit, leaving the bud glistening and just begging for his attention.

He leans down and wraps his lips around it, sucking in hard, quick pulses until you cry out, “Joshie, please!”

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” he mumbles into you, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Your fingers, I want your fingers,” you whimper into the pillow, arching your back and pressing further into him in wanton need.

He licks his lips to get one last taste of you and slides two digits deep inside, giving you no time to adjust to the intrusion before pulling them out to the tip and sinking them back in. His pace rockets up, his tired muscles hard at work as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet sound of your pussy accepting them filling the air.

He wants to hear your voice too, slowing down and leaning over you to slide his fingers beneath your cheek and turn your head to the side so you’re no longer muffled by the pillow. Your gaze catches his and he smiles tenderly at you, pressing a kiss to your temple before returning to his previous position and hooking his fingertips into your g-spot, grinding harshly into it.

Predictably, you yelp, your eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on massaging that sensitive patch, his breath catching as he feels you get wetter around his fingers. You’re moaning now, your brows scrunched with pleasure and your mouth stuck open, and he reaches his free hand up to tap at your bottom lip with two fingers, sliding them into your mouth when you open wider for him.

You suction around them immediately, your tongue laving over his knuckles and bathing his fingers in saliva, and he feels his cock throb in his shorts in response, the memory of your perfect lips around it visceral and precious. He yanks his fingers back before he can get too distracted, reaching around you to sandwich your clit between them.

He starts fucking you with his other hand again, your hips jerking with it, stimulating your clit as he curls his fingertips towards your stomach, tapping your sweet spot with every thrust. It’s not long before you’re gasping out his name and clenching down, your thighs juddering as you fight to hold yourself up through the pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, pinching your clit harder and digging his fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch you out for another. A third squeezes in beside the first two, making you whine and claw at the duvet, your cunt contracting and trying to suck his fingers in deeper when he pulls them out.

“Fuck,” he groans, releasing your clit to press down on your back and deepen the arch, making it even easier for him to hit your g-spot. He wants to be inside of you, desperately, but he wants to make you cum again first, wants you to be so wet, he can just glide right in.

You’re getting close, he can tell by the way you’re pushing back into his thrusts and sobbing, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to say it, but it just feels so fucking right that he can’t stop the words from coming out.

“Cum for me and I’ll breed you full.”

You suck in a sharp gasp and bear down, your pussy rippling and leaking and fever hot as you break apart beneath him, your arousal soaking his hand and dripping down his wrist. It seems like it lasts forever, though he’s sure it helps that he’s still fucking his fingers into your g-spot as much as your tightness will allow.

He knows you’re done when you whimper brokenly and pull away from his touch, your hand reaching back to hold his wrist in place so he doesn’t follow you. He decides to let you catch your breath, sliding off the bed to shed his shorts and wipe his hand off on a towel, bringing it with him so he can spread it out under you like he should have done before.

You’re on your side when he returns, and he climbs back onto the mattress before carefully tugging at your shoulder and hip, pulling you to rest on your back and waiting for you to look at him.

When your eyes blink open, they’re teary and dazed, and you watch as he gathers a couple pillows, weakly lifting your hips just enough for him to slide them under you and lay the towel out on top of them. He’s gentle as he sets his hands on the backs of your knees and pushes your legs up, the angle making it easier for you to keep them tucked to your chest when your hands replace his.

He can tell your head is full of clouds by the way you gaze at him, and he attempts to bring you some clarity by asking, “Remember what I said before?”

You think for a second, your lips pouting as you try to recall, and he can’t resist leaning down over you and pressing his mouth to yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he soothes the sting with his tongue.

When he pulls away, it seems to come to you, and your eyes clear up just a bit as you respond, “You said you’d breed me full if I came for you.”

“Good, baby, that’s right. So what do you think I’m going to do now?” He asks, sitting back up on his knees and shuffling closer to lay his aching cock on your wet pussy, just barely grinding against you.

“You’re gonna-,” you take in a halting breath. “You’re gonna breed me?”

“Yeah, honey,” he nods with a hungry smirk, shifting his hips back enough to line himself up before pressing forward a few inches and popping the head of his cock inside of you. “I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum, until it’s dripping out of you. And then I’m gonna fuck it back in, and fill you up even more. Until it takes.”

You whimper from deep in your throat, pressing your lips together and readjusting your grip on your legs, your eyes darting down to stare yearningly at his cock.

“Do you want that?” He whispers, working himself in as slowly as he can manage, teasing both you and himself.

You just nod, but he wants to hear you say it, needs to hear it from your own lips.

“Tell me then.”

“I- I want you to fill me up with your cum, fuck a baby into me, please.”

He sinks the rest of his cock inside of you, covering your hands with his and spreading your legs wider, pushing them into your chest and resting his weight on them as he draws back and snaps forward.

He’s not gentle now, and he’s definitely not slow, his hips smacking into your ass as he thrusts forcefully into you, his grunts of exertion soon joining the cries escaping you. You’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, your fingers tight on your thighs beneath his and your pussy fucking flawless around him, and he’s never been so in love.

That’s a thought he has constantly but he means it every single time, his devotion to you endless and all consuming.

His appetite for you is voracious enough to rival it; the need, the sheer greed that he feels when it comes to you stripping him down to his basest desires. He’s only human in the end, and nothing could be more human than the urge to love you, to fuck you, to breed you, to keep you. He knows you’re his already but beyond that ring on your finger, there’s one other thing that could show the world you belong to each other, and that includes pumping you so full of his cum, it sticks.

He’s getting close already just thinking about it, and the way you’re clenching and fluttering around him doesn’t help in the slightest. He wouldn’t mind breaking this early though, not when it means he can just get hard again and fuck his cum even deeper into you.

“Joshie,” you whine in the voice that means you’re inches away from the edge, and he feels his body respond, his heavy balls drawing up tight and his cock hardening further within you.

“Cum whenever you want, baby. I’m not stopping anytime soon,” he vows darkly, fully intent on keeping you in this bed and on his dick for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of his life.

You shudder at his words, gasping when he shifts his hips and changes the angle, the head of his cock now bullying right into your g-spot. He can’t hit as deep like this but he knows it’ll be enough to unravel you, and that’s exactly what he wants.

He grins wickedly when you start to ripple around him, knowing the waves of your orgasm are beginning to overtake you, and when it’s at its peak, he sinks in deep and lets you carry him with you. He groans roughly at the feeling of your undulating walls milking his cock, relief and bone deep satisfaction filling him as he fills you.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, fucking you through the sensitivity and burying his cum deeper inside of you. You buck against him in overstimulation, crying out his name with tears in your voice, and he feels his cock twitch and get harder, your pussy like a molten velvet vise around him.

An hour and two more loads pass by in a blur, every minute melting into the next as he ruts into you, barely pulling back enough to get any friction but grinding into your sweet spot to keep you pliant. He thinks he might’ve fucked you dumb, no words escaping your parted lips and no thoughts behind your glassy eyes. You’re still holding your legs up though, and that’s how he knows you’re present enough to hear him.

“Said I would fuck you full, didn’t I, baby?” He laughs breathily, his eyes trained on the sight of his cock thrusting into you, the combination of your arousal and his cum seeping out around him in bursts. “I think you’re pretty fucking full.”

You mumble something but he doesn’t catch it, and he shifts your legs onto his arms and leans down, bracing his hands on the bed to hold himself up. “What was that, honey?”

“Not enough,” you gasp out, releasing your thighs to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s not enough, Joshie, I want more.”

Your words blend together but he hears them all the same, and a jolt of desire surges through him, traveling down his spine and ending in his cock. He gets his legs under him, trapping you in a mating press so he can put more power behind his hips as his strokes get deeper, longer, your fingernails digging into his neck with every thrust of his aching dick.

“I can give you one more, baby, I’ll give you whatever- whatever you want,” he groans raggedly, his vision blurring and his hips stuttering as he nears the edge for what he fears may be the last time. You clench and squeeze and flutter around him, whimpering, “Please, Joshie, breed me,” and that’s it for him.

This time when he cums, it’s enough to steal his voice, his breath, his thoughts. It’s blinding, the pleasure, but that just means he feels everything. He feels you falling to pieces on his cock, he feels the warmth of the sunset on his back, he feels his heart racing in his chest. He feels his cum filling you again, replacing what he’s fucked out, and more than anything, he feels satiated, like there’s nothing left to give and nothing left to take.

He all but collapses into you, shifting to rest his knees on the bed and dropping your legs from his arms, his face buried in your neck as he trembles and gasps for air. Your cunt is still hugging him tightly, and he winces at the sensitivity of his spent cock but doesn’t pull out, can’t pull out, not when he knows that all of his hard work will go to waste as soon as he does.

You run gentle fingers through his salty hair, your chest slowly rising and falling against his, and his body starts to grow heavy, exhaustion weighing him down and the comfort of your pussy keeping him warm.

He’s asleep before the golden light of the sun fades from the sky.

“Joshua, with everything we said, I have to ask… Have you changed your mind about kids?” You ask softly, your back to his chest and your body between his legs as you laze in the massive hotel bath together.

He presses his lips to your neck and thinks, only for a second, before responding, “No, I’m happy with our life. I don’t need anything but you.”

You let out a sigh of relief and turn in his arms, resting your cheek on his shoulder and tucking your legs up, your knees just barely out of the water. He scoops some up and pours it over you, not wanting you to get cold.

“Good, I feel the same way.”

“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair, kissing your crown and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“I love you,” you whisper in return. “The breeding kink was hot though, let’s keep that?”

“Oh yeah, baby, for sure.”

AN: for @thatgirlfromwindsor and these anons 💖

Seventeen Masterlist

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dirtysvthoughts · 2 years

Note

hi, can i request a shot with # 85 and 69 with joshua please

dirtysvthoughts hits 100 celebration!

a/n: two in one night! i’m trying to answer everyone’s asks as soon as i can! 🥲 anon, this was such a good combo - i hope you like it! <3 i got a little carried away, so i’m inserting a read more cut under the tags!

tags/warnings: female! reader, FINGERING, backstage quickies, shua’s not an idol, but he’s the main vocalist/guitarist in a local band, established relationship, very slight dirty talking

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

69. “i’ve never done this before.”

85. “i didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[11:00 p.m.]

“goodnight, everyone!” you hear your boyfriend scream out, met with supportive roars from the audience. he runs backstage and embraces you the second he sees you, sweeping you off your feet momentarily. when he puts you down, you two share a sweet kiss.

“you were amazing, babe!” you exclaim. joshua, your boyfriend, is the main vocalist and guitarist of a band in your city. they’ve taken off within the past year and they’ve been selling out gigs left and right. tonight, they just finished the last concert of a six show series. you can feel his adrenaline as he smiles at you, caressing your cheek -trying to slow his breathing.

“i couldn’t have done this without you, y’know. thanks for supporting me these past few weeks.” you can hear the sincerity in his voice.

“no problem, honey. that’s what i’m here for,” you say as you bring him into a kiss, angling his neck so you can go deeper. he moans into your mouth, gripping at your waist.

you two continue to make out, ignoring the “get a room” comments from his band mates and tech staff as they pass you, joshua’s hands now moving from your waist to groping your breasts, sitting so pretty in the crop top you wear wearing.

he pulls away from you for a second, and you already miss his touch.

“do you wanna move someplace more private?” he whispers into your ear.

“yeah, not being interrupted would be nice,” you say as you hold onto his broad shoulders.

what you didn’t realize was that your idea of “a private place” was completely different from his. you assumed he was gonna take you back to his place, or at the very least his car.

you just ended up in a secluded area backstage.

“josh, i-i’ve never done this before.. backstage sex? what if someone catches us?” you slightly panic as he takes off your crop top, leaving you in your black bra and denim jeans. he then starts to unbutton and unzip your jeans, fingering teasing your clit from the outside by rubbing your panties.

“i doubt anyone will find us here, besides - they all saw us earlier. they’ll think twice before they look for us,” he smirks as he goes inside your panties, and you moan out at the feeling of two of his fingers pleasuring you.

“mmm, i didn’t know you were so sensitive.. are you like this after all the shows?”

“i think this is just for tonight.. it’s your last show for a minute, and i get you all to myself. i guess that would make me a bit horny,” you bite your lip as you make eye contact with him.

“nice to know,” he smiles as he inserts another finger inside of you, and you grip onto his arms, your moans growing louder and more consistent.

“josh, j-josh - i-i think i’m getting close,” you whimper, your body letting you know that your orgasm was not that far off.

“already? we just got started baby!” he laughs, clearly enjoying how far gone you were for him. “i guess this means we’ll have even more fun back at my place - getting you to cum over and over until my bedsheets are filled with your juices.. would you like that, honey? me making you cum so much all night?”

his words send you over the edge and you cum all over his fingers, gasping for air after experiencing such a high.

“damn josh.. you really know how to pleasure a girl,” you laugh breathlessly, rubbing his chest and feeling his muscles.

he smirks at you, more than satisfied with how he’s left you. “you wanna skip dinner with the band? we can just pick up something and get to what we have planned.”

“say less,” you say without hesitation.

and true to his word, later that night, he did fill his bedsheets with your juices.

-kenny

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x female reader #joshua imagines #joshua smut #hong jisoo #hong jisoo smut #hong jisoo imagines #joshua x reader #joshua imagine #joshua #hong jisoo x reader #dsvtt: answered asks

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hoshifighting · 3 months

Text

Anklet Adorned

Preview: "You like that, don't you?" he says, his voice dripping with arrogance as he resumes his relentless pace. "You like it when I fuck you so hard that even your anklet can't stay quiet." he refers to the charms from the anklet he made for you, making little noises continuously synchronized with his thrusts.

Warnings: Smut, hard slutty smutty hard awesome sex, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, degradation, praising, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, fingering, messy sex, sloppy, chocking, crying, aftercare, doggy style and etc.

Word Count: 3.7k

This smut was created through a request, thank you anon, I LOVED writing this one! (click here to be sent to the request)

Joshua, with his deft fingers and boundless imagination, had a passion for crafting bracelets. Be it beads or strings, he could weave magic with his hands, creating intricate designs that sparkled with personality.

Every day, Joshua would surprise you with a new bracelet, each one a unique masterpiece that told a story. He'd fill you with joy as he slipped it onto your wrist, his eyes gleaming with pride and love. From vibrant colors to delicate patterns, each bracelet was a reflection of his affection for you.

What made Joshua's gesture even more endearing was his knack for matching the bracelets to your outfits. No matter how last-minute your wardrobe choices were, he always managed to craft a bracelet that perfectly complemented your look. His dedication and attention to detail never ceased to amaze you.

One Friday evening, as you curled up on the couch watching a movie, Joshua sat beside you, his fingers busy at work with his latest bracelet creation. You watched him intently, admiring his skill and dedication as he meticulously threaded beads together, lost in his own little world of creativity.

But then, just when you least expected it, Joshua leaned over and gently slipped something around your ankle. Startled, you looked down to see a delicate anklet adorned with an array of pretty charms dangling from it. Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected surprise.

"Surprise," Joshua whispered, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he admired his handiwork.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood your heart. The anklet was exquisite, a perfect blend of elegance and whimsy, just like Joshua himself. Each charm seemed to hold a story of its own, and you couldn't wait to hear the tale behind this new creation.

Joshua adored the moments when your legs rested gently on his lap, your smooth skin inviting his touch. With tender affection, he would run his fingers along the length of your legs, reveling in the sensation of your warmth beneath his fingertips. But what captivated him most was the anklet adorning your ankle, its delicate charms dancing playfully against your skin.

As your legs lay draped across his lap, Joshua found himself mesmerized by the contrast of the anklet against your skin tone. The intricate charms seemed to come alive with each movement, casting dappled shadows across your legs as they swayed gently to the rhythm of your breathing.

"So, what do you want to do tonight, babe?" You ask.

"Hmm, I can think of a few ideas." Joshua trails his fingers along the curve of your thigh. "Well, we could keep watching this movie..." his hand ventures higher, teasingly brushing against the hem of your shorts, making you shiver at the touch, biting your lip.

"Or we could find something... more entertaining." you suggest, brushing your thighs together sensually, immediately capturing his attention.

A slow grin spreads across Joshua's lips as he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "I like the sound of that," he murmurs huskily, grabbing your thighs harder.

You find yourself lost in the moment, your breath catching in your throat as Joshua's lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. His tongue dances against yours, igniting a fiery passion that courses through your veins.

Before you realize it, Joshua is already on top of you, his weight pressing you into the soft cushions of the couch. With a gentle yet firm touch, he guides your legs to wrap around his waist, drawing you closer to him in a fervent embrace.

His hand finds its way to your throat, applying a slight pressure that sends shivers down your spine. It's a delicate balance of pleasure and restraint, a silent communication of lust between the two of you.

As you melt into his touch, surrendering yourself to the intoxicating sensation of his lips on yours and his hand on your throat, you feel a surge of desire coursing through your body.

Desperately, your hands roam over the hems of Joshua's clothing, driven by a need to feel every inch of his skin against yours. With eager fingers, you fumble with buttons and zippers, determined to strip away any barrier between you and Joshua.

Joshua chuckles at your needy antics, his eyes alight with amusement and desire as he watches you. Sensing your urgency, he reaches behind him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

The sight of his toned torso, bathed in the soft glow of the room, steals your breath away. Muscles ripple beneath smooth skin, evidence of his strength and vitality. You drink in the sight hungrily, your heart racing with anticipation as you marvel at the beauty before you.

With a low grow, Joshua leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roam over your body, as he undresses you with skillful hands. Garment after garment falls away, discarded to the floor in a heap of forgotten fabric.

Lowering his head to meet your dripping pussy, until his gaze meets yours, Joshua captures the expression of excitement in your eyes. He latches his mouth onto your cunt, and you melt on the cushions.

As Joshua's warm mouth works its magic on your cunt, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you can't help but surrender to the sensations washing over you. With each flick of his tongue and gentle suckle on your clit, he brings you to the brink of ecstasy, coaxing soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, you instinctively wrap your legs around his head, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the rapture of his touch. The charms of your anklet sway rhythmically against his back and he moans, as he feels the weight of your legs around him, Joshua's excitement grows, fueling his desire to please you even more. With a renewed sense of urgency, he redoubles his efforts.

His tongue slipped inside of your cunt, while he sucked you sloppy, you can feel the slick heat of your arousal dripping down your thighs.

As you feel the impending rush of your orgasm building to its peak, Joshua suddenly pulls his mouth away, leaving you panting and desperate for release. Your legs tremble around nothing, aching for the touch that was just tantalizingly close.

You whine in frustration, your body still thrumming with the echoes of pleasure, craving the exquisite release that eludes you. With a glistening chin and a cocky smirk, Joshua looks down at you, reveling in the sight of your desperate desire.

In moments like this, his softness gives way to a confident dominance, his cockiness taking charge as he watches you squirm and beg for more. He loves to see you in this state, your cries and pleads only fueling his desire to push you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

With a teasing glint in his eyes, Joshua leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers words of encouragement and promises of pleasure yet to come.

"You're so close, aren't you, babe?"

"S-so close!" You protest, your voice tinged with need.

"That's the point," Joshua counters, his tone dripping with confidence. "I want to make you beg for it."

You groan, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing second. "Please," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joshua's smirk widens, his gaze darkening with desire as he watches you squirm beneath him. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin. "Beg for me."

You bite your lip, your body trembling with anticipation. "Please," you whisper again, your voice thick with desire. "I need you."

With a satisfied grin, Joshua leans in close, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss. "I know you do," he whispers huskily. "And I'm going to make you feel so good."

"Don't stop now Josh, please…"

Joshua's smirk widens, his confidence palpable as he revels in your neediness. "Oh, I won't stop, sweetheart," he murmurs, his tone dripping with promise. "Tell me how badly you want to come."

You swallow hard, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and arousal at his command. "I want it so bad," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Joshua, I need to come."

"That's better," he says, his hand trailing teasingly along your thigh. "But not yet. I want to see you beg a little more."

You whine in frustration, but there's no denying the thrill that courses through you at his words. Despite the ache of desire that burns within you, you find yourself craving his dominance, eager to submit to his every whim.

With a wicked gleam in his eyes, Joshua leans in close, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss. "You're so beautiful when you beg, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "I could watch you squirm all night."

Joshua tilts his head, his gaze fixed on the globs of arousal dripping from you. There's a hunger in his eyes, with a slow, deliberate movement, he reaches out, his fingers trailing through the slick wetness between your folds. You shiver at his touch, a low moan escaping your lips as he explores your arousal with a confident, knowing touch.

"You're so wet for me…" Despite the embarrassment that floods your cheeks, there's no denying the raw, primal thrill that courses through you at the sight of Joshua's arousal.

With a confident smirk, he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from your ear. "You like it when I make you this wet, don't you?" he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You can't get enough of me, can you?"

As you lie there, too aroused to think, Joshua takes control with a firm yet gentle hand. With a deft movement, he turns you around, pressing your chest against the couch while raising your ass up for him to see. You whimper at the sudden change in position, your body trembling with anticipation and need.

"Look at you," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with desire and dominance. "All spread out for me like a good little slut."

His words cut through the haze of desire, sending a shiver down your spine as you feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal overwhelming your senses.

But even as you cry, you can't help but feel a sense of surrender wash over you, knowing that in this moment, Joshua's dominance is all-consuming. His soft degradation only serves to heighten your arousal, the delicate balance of pleasure and pain driving you to the edge of ecstasy.

As your tears wet the fabric of the couch beneath you, Joshua's expression softens, a hint of tenderness in his eyes as he coos at you. "That's it, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice gentle against your ear. "Let it all out for me. You know I love it when you're so responsive."

As Joshua's tip teases your entrance, you can feel your core ache with longing, craving his touch with an intensity that consumes you. Every teasing brush against your slick folds sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, heightening your arousal to dizzying heights.

His words send a shiver down your spine, your core fluttering in anticipation as you feel him slowly entering you. The sensation of him stretching you open, inch by delicious inch, is almost too much to bear, but you revel in the exquisite pleasure that courses through your veins.

With each slow, deliberate thrust, Joshua pushes deeper into you, his cock filling you completely as you cling to the couch beneath you, lost in a haze of ecstasy. Your walls clench around him, eager to be filled with every inch of his length as you surrender yourself completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

As Joshua fills you completely, you're so tight around him that he can hardly move, every inch of his length enveloped by the delicious warmth of your core. Joshua almost loses himself in the sensation, his breath hitching at the sheer intensity of your grip. Your eyes roll back in ecstasy, a sight that only serves to fuel his desire further.

"You're so tight, baby," he murmurs, his voice laced with awe and desire as he continues to move within you. "I can barely move... but I love it. I love how you grip me, how you take me so eagerly."

With a hard thrust, Joshua elicits a little sound from you, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he drives into you with unbridled force. But it's not just your reaction that catches his attention—it's the tinkling sound of the anklet adorning your ankle, its charms dancing. With each powerful thrust, the anklet chimes, a sweet melody that fills the room with the rhythm of your pleasure.

"Hmm, what's this?" Joshua muses, his cocky smirk widening as he hears the anklet chime with each of his powerful thrusts. "You like that, don't you?" he says, his voice dripping with arrogance as he resumes his relentless pace. "You like it when I fuck you so hard that even your anklet can't stay quiet."

You can only moan in response, your body writhing beneath him as he continues to slam into you, hitting your g'spot with precision each time. The combination of his cocky demeanor and the relentless stimulation has you teetering on the edge of ecstasy, your moans of pleasure growing louder with each passing moment.

As the knot tightens in your stomach, signaling the imminent arrival of your climax, Joshua senses the impending release building within you. With each thrust, he can feel the tension mounting, your body quivering with the promise of ecstasy.

He glances down, his eyes widening as he notices the telltale sign of your impending orgasm—a white ring forming at the base of his cock where it meets your slick heat. It's a visual confirmation of your impending release, a signal that drives him to push you even further towards the edge.

"I can feel you getting close, baby," Joshua murmurs, his voice husky with desire as he continues to pound into you. "I want you to come for me. I want to feel you clenching around me as you lose yourself in pleasure."

And then, with a guttural cry of release, it happens—the knot in your stomach unravels, sending shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body. Your walls clench around Joshua's cock, milking him for all he's worth as you ride out the waves of your climax.

With a primal hunger still burning in his eyes, Joshua shifts positions, laying you gently on your back. You gasp as the change in position heightens your anticipation, your body tingling with excitement as you await his next move.

Licking three of his fingers, Joshua smirks down at you before slowly sinking them inside of you. The sensation is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you arch your back in response to the overwhelming sensitivity.

You moan softly as his fingers delve deeper, filling you completely and stretching you to your limits. The wet sounds of your arousal fill the air, mingling with the rhythmic swaying of the anklet adorning your ankle.

Your breath catches in your throat as Joshua curls all three of his fingers inside you, hitting just the right spot that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. With a high-pitched moan escaping your lips, you arch your back, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation that threatens to consume you.

Joshua smirks triumphantly, his eyes alight with satisfaction as he watches you writhe beneath him, lost in a whirlwind of pleasure. He knows exactly how to push all your buttons, how to drive you wild with need, and he revels in the power he holds over you in this moment.

With one final, powerful thrust of his fingers, Joshua abuses your g'spot relentlessly, driving you over the edge into an explosive climax. You scream in ecstasy as the overwhelming pleasure crashes over you, your body convulsing with the force of your release.

In an uncontrollable surge of pleasure, you squirt, your essence spraying out onto Joshua and the couch beneath you. The sensation is electrifying, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through every fiber of your being as you surrender yourself completely to the overwhelming bliss.

Joshua's eyes widen in surprise and delight as he feels you drenching him with your arousal. He revels in the feeling of your release, knowing that he's the one who pushed you to such dizzying heights of pleasure.

As Joshua feels the arousal surging through him at the sight of you squirting, a wicked idea forms in his mind. He can't help but wonder if you could do it again, this time around his cock. With a primal hunger burning in his eyes, he wastes no time in sliding his length inside you once more.

But as you feel him filling you effortlessly once again, you can't help but cry out, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation. "I-I can't take it," you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his size.

But Joshua is quick to reassure you, his voice soft but commanding. "Yes, you can, baby," he murmurs, his hands gentle yet firm as he guides you through the discomfort. "You can take it. Trust me."

Joshua's voice is a husky whisper as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel so good, baby," he murmurs, his words sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. "I can feel you stretching open for me again, taking me so eagerly."

Despite the mess of white cream coating your pussy, Joshua's cock throbs inside you, pulsing with desire as he continues to drive himself deeper into your clenching warmth. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensation.

With each movement, the tightness of your grip around him only serves to heighten Joshua's arousal, driving him to push you even further towards the edge of ecstasy. He revels in the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him, milking him for all he's worth as you both surrender yourselves completely to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.

As the intensity of your pleasure peaks, your nails dig deliciously into Joshua's back, leaving marks of desire in their wake. His cock buried deep inside your cunt, you feel every inch of him pulsating with need, driving you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With each thrust, the anklet around your ankle sounds ever louder, a symphony of pleasure that fills the room as you ride the waves of your climax. Joshua can only moan in response, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he feels you tightening around him, your walls gripping him with a desperate hunger.

Feeling the spray of your arousal drenching him and the couch beneath you, Joshua's cock throbs with anticipation, the sensation only serving to heighten his arousal. He can't help but groan in pleasure as he feels you cumming around him again.

Your throat is already sore from the screams of ecstasy that have torn from your lips, your hair clinging to your face in sweaty tendrils as you ride out the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

With a guttural groan, Joshua releases himself inside of you, his hot seed filling you completely and adding to the mess already coating your pussy. The sensation of him pulsating within you sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body, driving you to the brink of oblivion once more, your vision turning completely black.

As your vision slowly returns, you find yourself enveloped in soft covers, the lingering haze of pleasure still clouding your mind. Confusion washes over you as you take in your surroundings, realizing that you're now clean and showered, the evidence of your passionate encounter with Joshua washed away.

Just as you begin to wonder how it all happened, Joshua appears suddenly in the doorway of the bedroom, a cloth draped casually over his shoulder. His eyes light up with a warm smile as he takes in the sight of you, peaceful and serene in the aftermath of sex.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he says with a gentle smile, crossing the room to sit beside you on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

You blink up at him, still trying to process everything that happened. "I... I don't know," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "What happened? How did I get here?"

Joshua's smile widens as he reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "I took care of you," he explains softly. "After... everything that happened, I wanted to make sure you were okay. So I cleaned you up, gave you a shower, and tucked you into bed."

You smile gratefully at Joshua, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you at his tender care. "Thank you for taking care of me," you say softly, your voice filled with appreciation.

Joshua returns your smile, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Of course, baby," he replies, his voice gentle. "I'll always be here for you."

Then, he adds with a chuckle, "Oh, and I took care of the couch too. It's all clean now."

Your smile falters for a moment as you gasp, a wave of mortification washing over you as you realize what he's referring to. For a moment, you had forgotten about the mess you made on the couch in the heat of passion.

"Oh no," you exclaim, feeling embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot..."

You feel a rush of relief flood through you as Joshua cuts you off with a reassuring smile, his warm hand squeezing yours gently. "It's all okay," he reassures you, his voice filled with understanding and love.

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling grateful for his understanding and support. "Thank you," you murmur, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you relax into his comforting embrace.

But then, Joshua's words catch you off guard, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment as he adds, "And you know what?" he adds, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You looked so hot while you squirted."

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