#jihoonxreader

[synity]

Please write producer!woozi x reader just anything about it I BADLY NEED WOOZI FICS

White Noises

(Lee Jihoon x FemReader)

*slice of life, angst, heavy angst, Emotional manipulation, gaslighting, emotional neglect*

You loved him. You loved him.

And that made it worse.

Because Jihoon wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t neglectful by intention. He didn’t forget anniversaries or raise his voice or flirt with anyone else. He was consistent, gentle even in his silence. And he loved his music the kind of love that burned so bright, it left little space for shadows like you.

He used to invite you in into his studio, his world, his chaos. You’d curl on his small couch, chin on your knees, while he played melodies he wasn’t confident about yet. “It’s not good,” he’d mutter, scratching his neck, but you’d shake your head and smile, hearing what he couldn’t.

Now?

Now he shut the door.

Now, you only saw him in passing hunched over his monitors, headphones on, eyes distant even when you waved from the hallway. A ghost lingering in the home you once shared.

And the hardest part?

You didn’t know when it started.

Maybe it was after that third comeback. Maybe it was the constant pressure to outdo himself. Maybe he just assumed you’d always be there, waiting quietly like a favorite verse in a song he hadn’t played in a while.

Maybe… you’d let yourself disappear for him.

The dinner table sat for two. It had been sitting for two for the past five nights.

You brought him food warm at first, lukewarm by the time he remembered, untouched when he didn’t.

There was a note scribbled on a napkin in front of his untouched soup.

“I don’t want to eat alone anymore.”

You crumpled it before he could see. Threw it in the trash.

Maybe you were being dramatic. Maybe he was just stressed. Maybe this was what loving someone brilliant looked like loving them from a distance, understanding their silence, waiting for slivers of time like gifts.

But love wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

You missed the version of Jihoon who tugged you by the wrist to slow dance with him at 2 a.m. in the kitchen. Who whispered lyrics into your hair as you fell asleep. Who wrote your name in the corner of sheet music like a secret.

Now? He was just… tired.

And you were tired too.

But not from work. From waiting.

That weekend, you packed an overnight bag and left.

No dramatic note. No angry voicemail. Just a message:

“Going to stay with a friend. I need some air.”

You didn’t expect him to reply immediately. He didn’t.

You didn’t expect him to chase after you. He didn’t.

Three days passed.

You checked your phone, irrationally hoping he’d say something.

But silence.

On the fourth day, you came back. The apartment smelled the same like jasmine candles and dust and silence. His shoes were at the door. His hoodie still draped over the couch, the one you used to wear.

You walked into the kitchen and paused.

The soup was gone. Plate washed. Counter wiped.

But the emptiness was still there, humming like feedback static through every room.

That night, he came out of the studio.

It was late. You were curled on the couch in your hoodie, scrolling aimlessly, not expecting him to say anything.

But he stood there.

Still in that same black shirt, sleeves rolled, a pencil tucked behind his ear. Tired. Pale. Beautiful in a way that made your chest ache.

“You left,” he said simply.

You didn’t look at him. “Yeah.”

Silence.

Then, “Why?”

You almost laughed.

Instead, you met his eyes. “Because I was tired of feeling like a stranger in my own relationship.”

His jaw tightened.

“You’ve been busy. I know that. But there’s a difference between being busy and being absent, Jihoon.”

He shifted, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

That’s what made it worse.

He walked forward, but not close enough. “I thought you understood…”

“I do,” you whispered. “That’s the problem. I understand everything your dreams, your ambition, your pressure. But who’s understanding me?”

The silence that followed wasn’t sharp. It was hollow. Defeated.

You stood up. “I’m not asking for grand gestures. I just wanted to matter.”

“You do.”

“Then show me. Not in words, Jihoon. In presence.”

You walked past him.

This time, he didn’t stop you.

That night, you slept in the guest room.

No tears. Just silence.

And a pillow that didn’t smell like him.

In the days that followed, you danced around each other. Polite. Distant. Like roommates rather than lovers.

He left coffee on your side of the table again. You didn’t touch it.

You folded his laundry. He left his charger on your nightstand.

Small things. Habits pretending to be affection.

But no late-night hugs. No forehead kisses. No lyrics murmured into your hair.

You sat on the balcony one night, knees to your chest, watching the city breathe beneath the stars.

You didn’t hear him until he was behind you.

“I wrote something,” he said softly.

You turned.

He held out a notebook. Pages dog-eared. Lyrics scribbled messily. Your name on the first line.

“I didn’t know how else to say it,” he confessed. “So I wrote.”

You didn’t take it.

Instead, you asked, “Do you love me, or do you just love writing about me?”

He froze.

You stood, brushing past him. “Words are easy. Presence is hard. And you haven’t really been here in months.”

For once, Jihoon had nothing to say.

You walked away again.

And this time, he let you go.

The kitchen lights were harsh tonight, humming against the tiles like a second heartbeat. You stirred the tea absentmindedly, barely hearing the spoon clink. Everything felt unreal like you were floating somewhere outside of yourself.

He stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Same tired eyes. Same clenched jaw.

“You’re being dramatic,” Jihoon said, tone flat. “Again.”

The spoon stopped.

You looked at him slowly. “Again?”

He stepped in, voice tightening. “You always do this when I’m working. Suddenly I’m the villain because I’m focused?”

You blinked. “I never said that—”

“You didn’t have to,” he cut in. “It’s the sighs. The walking away. The guilt-tripping.”

You flinched.

He stepped closer. “You think I don’t notice the way you make everything about how I don’t love you right? Just because I’m not sitting on the couch 24/7 doesn’t mean I don’t care, Y/N.”

“I never asked for that,” you whispered. “I just wanted—”

“You wanted what?” His voice rose, sharp now. “For me to drop everything because you’re insecure?”

It hit like a slap. Your breath caught in your throat.

Jihoon shook his head, almost laughing. “This is always how it goes. I get busy, and suddenly you’re packing bags and sending guilt texts.”

“I never guilt tripped you,” you said, but even as you said it, your voice wavered.

He pounced on that. “Right. Because, ‘I don’t want to eat alone anymore’ isn’t emotional blackmail?”

Your heart stopped. You hadn’t even let him see that napkin. How did he know?

“You read the trash?” you asked, voice breaking.

“I live here,” he said coldly. “I saw it. And you knew I would. That’s why you left it.”

You shook your head slowly, stepping back. “No. I threw it away so you wouldn’t see it. I was venting, Jihoon. I’m allowed to feel lonely.”

He laughed not loudly, not joyfully, but like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You don’t even realize how much pressure you put on me. You think you’re gentle, but you want me to feel guilty for not being enough for you.”

The words felt like ice in your chest.

“I’ve never asked you to be anything other than present,” you said, quieter this time. “I’ve always supported you—”

He cut in again. “And I didn’t ask for someone who needs hand-holding every second.”

Silence.

That one stung.

Your hands trembled, but you clenched them into fists to hide it.

He didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and just didn’t care.

“I think you just… make problems when things are fine,” Jihoon continued. “Things were fine until you started acting like I don’t care.”

You stared at him, something inside you cracking like glass.

So this was it.

This was how it turned how the man who once pulled you into his arms without words now stood across from you, arms crossed, acting like you were the problem. Like you were unstable. Needy. Selfish.

Maybe you had been quiet too long. Maybe he thought your kindness made you easy to bend.

But tonight, something shifted.

“I’m not making this up,” you said slowly. “I’m not imagining the distance, Jihoon. You stopped being there. You shut me out. And now you want to blame me for noticing?”

He looked annoyed. “You’re twisting this.”

“No,” you snapped, and it surprised you the fire in your chest. “You are.”

His lips parted, but you didn’t let him speak.

“I have done everything I could to love you. Even when I was being ignored. Even when you forgot what day it was. Even when I sat alone in that tiny couch in your studio like a prop in the background of your life. I stayed. But I won’t let you turn this on me.”

The silence between us was suffocating, yet it wasn’t the kind that begged for comfort. It was thick, heavy, like a storm gathering behind closed doors. Woozi’s eyes, usually so gentle and soft, now held a cold, unyielding edge. The words he had just spat out kept replaying in my mind like a broken record, echoing the disbelief, the hurt.

“You’re imagining things. I never said those things. You’re making this up.” His voice was steady, almost clinical, as if I were a child accusing him of some childish mischief.

I stared at him, my chest tight, eyes burning. “How how can you say that? After everything I told you? After how it made me feel? I trusted you…”

He cut me off with a tired shake of his head, as if my pain was a bothersome interruption in his day. “You’re overreacting. You’re too sensitive. I don’t know why you keep twisting things. Maybe you just want to fight.”

That hit me harder than any slap could. The sharp sting of being blamed for my own feelings, my own truth, collapsed me inward.

I blinked back tears that threatened to fall. “I’m not lying. You said it. You hurt me.”

“No, I didn’t.” His voice dropped lower, colder. “You’re just too emotional. Stop making me the bad guy.”

It was the ultimate betrayal—not just the cruel dismissal, but the deliberate rewriting of reality. I wanted to scream, to shake him awake, but my voice caught in my throat.

“Why… why are you doing this?” I whispered, the pain raw and exposed.

He looked away, the mask slipping for a split second. Then, with a small, bitter laugh, he said, “Because if I admit it, then I have to face what I did. And I’m not ready to do that.”

That was the cruel truth he was afraid. Afraid to confront his own mistakes, so he pushed me away instead. Left me alone in a room full of shadows.

I wanted to reach out to him one last time, to plead for the man I thought I loved, but the walls I had built to protect my heart trembled and cracked under the weight of his words. Instead, I turned away, retreating into myself.

Days passed like a blur. I spoke less, smiled less, a ghost lingering in the corners of our shared spaces. The warmth between us was replaced by icy distance. Woozi stayed busy in his studio, buried in music and deadlines, barely looking my way.

And I let him because what was left to say? The person I loved had become a stranger who denied my reality.

Late at night, I lay awake, fingers clutching my sheets, haunted by memories of whispered promises and gentle touches that now felt like echoes from a past life. I told myself to be strong, to hold onto the fragments of who I was before this unraveling.

But sometimes, the loneliness crept in like a tide, threatening to drown me in its relentless waves.

One evening, after a particularly silent dinner, Woozi finally spoke, voice tired and distant.

“We should talk.”

My heart thudded with a mix of hope and dread. “About what?”

“About us.” He sighed. “About everything.”

I wanted to believe we could fix this, but the memory of his cold denial made me hesitate.

“I’m not sure if ‘us’ still exists,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes, the exhaustion plain on his face. “Maybe it doesn’t. But I don’t want to lose you.”

His words were fragile, but I wasn’t sure if they were enough anymore. Not without truth. Not without accountability.

I looked at him, searching for the man I once knew in the shadows of his guarded gaze. But all I saw was the pain of two people slowly unraveling, tangled in silence and broken trust.

And maybe, that was the hardest truth of all.

[fatgirlwritesscenarios]

One Last Prayer Pt. 1

((A/N: This was, FOR SURE, a request and honestly, I think this was one of my best angst works yet. Ya’ll have fun.))

Pairing: JihoonxReader

Genre: ANGST (Like full-on, no holds-barred, see you at the funeral ANGST!) 

Word Count: 3,313

Summary: You weren’t supposed to be here...this wasn’t supposed to happen to you...not you. Anyone, but you! God, please! Anyone! Anyone but you!!

Part 2: HERE

                                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*

The bright, white lights were blinding. The heavy disinfectant in the air burned his nose. Each hallway was a replica of the last: long, winding, sterile and white. The doctors and nurses in their green scrubs. The stethoscopes and clipboards…

Please…Please…

He hated it. He hated it all. How could a place that was supposed to bring you comfort and recovery feel like the final stop? A final chance to plead your case? That you deserve to live?

Please…Please…

You weren’t supposed to be here. Where did it all go wrong? Why did it all go wrong? You weren’t supposed to be here!

Please!

You were supposed to be with him. He was supposed to spend the evening with you. If you had stayed…

God, PLEASE!!

No…if he had kept you. If he hadn’t made you mad. If he hadn’t yelled at you. If he had been more understanding, more considerate…you wouldn’t be here.

“Please, Y/N! Please! Stay with me. Don’t go! You have to stay with me!” Jihoon ran beside the gurney, clutching your torn, bloody hand in both of his as the doctors and nurses rushed around him, getting you through the hospital as quickly as possible.

You were barely responding to his voice; to any noise really. Your eyes kept rolling around in your head, your hair matted to your head from the blood staining it. You seemed to be bleeding from everywhere, the red staining the new shirt and jacket you had bought. Cuts and gashes littered your skin, merciless bruises starting to spot. Seeing you this way made him sick, Jihoon swallowing thickly and running faster to stay next to you.

“Y/N, please! You can make it, I know you can! Y/N!”

“Sir, you need to stay here now.”

“NO! I can’t leave her!”

The man tried to fight against the two nurses that held him back, his heart nearly shattering when your hand slipped from his grip and fell limply on the gurney. He yelled and shouted that he needed to be by your side, desperation increasing when the other doctors and nurses pushed through the doors leading into surgery and they swung closed behind you.

“Sir, the doctors are going to do all that they can to save her, but you need to stay here,” the nurses told him in a calm, firm tone.

Help came to them in the form of Seungcheol and Jeonghan, the two restraining the shorter man as the rest of Seventeen hung back behind him. Nerves and tension was running high between all of them; they had seen Jihoon cry before, but they had never seen him this uncontrollable. Tears were pouring down his face, his cheeks red from his fear and desperation. They had never seen him fight against Seungcheol so hard.

“Jihoon, it’s going to be okay,” Seungcheol told him, arms tightening around Jihoon when he struggled further, “She’s going to be fine. The doctors are going to help!”

“Jihoon-ah, please, you have to let them do their job. There’s nothing more you can do for her now except wait out here,” Jeonghan added, clutching onto him when his fighting started to subside and he all but collapsed into sobbing, “She’s going to be fine. They’re going to save her…right?”

Jeonghan looked between the two nurses for confirmation…needing confirmation. They stared back, faces sympathetic but otherwise unreadable.

“We will do all that we can. Please have faith,” one of them answered before they both turned to walk through the doors themselves, leaving the group of boys to collect themselves.

With some persuading and physical handling, they were able to get Jihoon to move back to the waiting room, making him sit in a chair. Seungcheol sat right next to him, Jeonghan and Jisoo on the other side. Jun sat close as well while the others spread around the waiting room, looking disheveled, rattled…scared. They stared at Jihoon as he sat in the hard plastic chair, your blood drying on his hands and clothes, his entire demeanor shifting now.

He looked catatonic, lifeless…numb. His head was bowed and his eyes stared unfocused at the tiled floor, as if the answers to his questions would start appearing there. Where did it all go wrong? Why did it all go wrong?

“Jihoon, what the fuck?! This is bullshit!”

His eye twitched at your choice of words, glaring at you disapprovingly, “Will you stop acting like a child and quit cussing?”

“I’ll stop cussing when you stop being an asshole!” you shot back, crossing your arms tightly and glaring heatedly in return, “I can’t believe you had me waiting for three hours for you to come home so we could go on our date and then made me come all the way down here just to find out that you’re not ready and had no intention of going out in the first place?”

“I didn’t make you do anything,” he responded coldly, feeling a dull ache throbbing against his temples.

“Oh, so you thought I was just going to doll myself up and wait at home for you to show up to take me out. When was that going to be if not tonight? Hm? Tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Next year? You think I was just going to wait, especially since you weren’t answering my calls or texts?”

Jihoon rubbed his temples as the throbbing began to intensify a little more the longer this went on. He stared at you from his place in his producer’s chair, the glow of his computer screen behind him illuminating your figure. Your stance was tense, the heat of your anger practically rolling off of you and making his studio feel hotter than it really was. You were all dolled up, as you had said before, in your favorite pair of jeans, high heels, new shirt and jacket. Bracelets clinked together on your wrists and the necklace he had gotten for you for your 100 Day Anniversary glinted in the light. Your hair had been done and your make perfected.

Any other time, he would have melted at the sight of you and told you how beautiful you looked. Now, he didn’t even want to look at you. Too much stress from the next album and group comeback was affecting his mood and, unfortunately, you were the one he was making suffer for it.

“I don’t have time for your whining,” he practically growled at you, “If all you’re going to do is yell and complain, then just leave. I have better things to do.”

You blinked twice at him, dumbstruck…but that only lasted a second. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did the 6 weeks of space that I gave you still not give you enough time to get anything done? Was the one text a week just to make sure you were at least alive too smothering for you?”

God, he hated when you did this. When you got sarcastic while making a point. He grit his teeth and clenched his fingers into fists, trying to control his rising temper. You refused to let up, though.

“I have been doing everything in my power to make this work, Jihoon! I have been bending over backwards to support you and give you the space you need to work while remaining an attentive girlfriend, but that’s still not enough for you!” you shouted, “I knew what I was getting into when you asked me to be yours and you knew what my conditions were when I said yes, but it’s obvious that I’m the only one putting the work in! We have gone four months without a proper conversation let alone a proper date. I don’t deserve to be treated this way. I don’t deserve a relationship like this!”

“Neither do I!” he finally snapped, jumping up from his chair to confront you, his frame shaking with his anger, “I don’t deserve a childish girlfriend that cries just because I can’t spend every waking moment with her. The last thing I need is a bratty woman who digs into me over a stupid dinner date that we can easily reschedule! I don’t have time for this and even less patience, Y/N, so just leave. The sight of you makes me sick.”

Time froze and the room, once filled with so much heat, turned cold. Jihoon could clearly read the shock on your face, but nothing else. That honestly should have worried him. It should have told him that he went too far this time, but he remained unfazed, even as your expression steeled itself into something cold and fierce. You snatched your jacket from the sofa in the studio and made for the door, but just before grabbing the knob, you whipped back around and took three steps towards him.

“When I walk out that door, I am not coming back,” you hissed, your chest heaving and the tresses of your hair trembling with your barely controlled rage, “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. I don’t want to see you…or hear from you ever again.”

His faulted for just a second, but you pushed on. “I’ll send over all of your things from my apartment to the dorm and pick up from there what’s mine…I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

And then…you were gone. You stormed out of the studio so quick Jihoon barely had enough time to even register what you said let alone come up with some kind of response. That…wasn’t what he had intended to happen. He just wanted you to stop yelling, to give him a moment to get his thoughts together. He wanted you to leave, but he didn’t want you to LEAVE HIM. Not indefinitely like that.

His anger at the whole situation prevented him from admitting it right then, but he knew that you were right…about everything. He had mistreated you. He took your kindness and patience for granted. He took several deep breaths, running his hands through his hair, before grabbing his cap and face mask and going after you. It had only been five minutes since you left. You couldn’t have gotten very far, but just to make sure he didn’t miss you, he jogged quickly through the Pledis building and to the front entrance. The cool night air hit him, cooling his skin and filling his body with the much needed fresh air he’s been depriving it of.

He glanced around in search of you, spotting your all too familiar figure just up the walk, waiting at the street corner for the light to turn green. He started jogging after you just as it did, Jihoon watching as you stepped off the curb to cross the street.

“Y/N! Wait!” he called.

You didn’t seem to hear him, already making it to the middle of the crosswalk. He tried again, “Y/N!”

This time, you paused and turned around. You never saw the truck run the red light, but Jihoon saw you, saw his very life bathed in the white of headlights as the squeal of tires ripped through the air. You never saw it…but he saw everything.

‘It was me…it was my fault,’ Jihoon thought to himself despairingly, now focusing on his blood caked hands and blood soaked, gray shirt, ‘I had been selfish and inconsiderate. I dismissed her and her feelings as if they were of no priority. I took her for granted…It was me.’

His vision began to blur, tears building like a wall and then zipping down his cheeks. He raked his shaking fingers through his hair, clutching at the tresses and leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. The boys watched him closely, Seungcheol rubbing his back in comfort.

“Jihoon…I’m sorry this happened to her, but I’m sure Y/N will be alright,” he said quietly.

“This is my fault…”

“Jihoon, no. This is not-”

“She was already in the middle of the crosswalk…and I called her name. She wouldn’t have even been there if we hadn’t been fighting. I shouldn’t have told her to leave. I should have just gone to dinner with her. What kind of man am I? What did I do to her?!”

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes to try and make the tears stop. Seungcheol ground his teeth together, his own eyes misting over. It was so painful to see Jihoon like this and not be able to relief some of his misery. Jun, who was sitting directly across from the shorter male, stood up with his practice bag over his shoulder and approached him. He placed a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Let’s go clean up a little, Jihoon. You need to wash your hands and face and change your shirt. I have a clean one you can wear,” he suggested, voice gentle.

Jihoon shook his head quickly, “No, I have to stay here when the doctor comes.”

“You should go with Jun. It’ll only take you a few minutes and it’s only been an hour, so the doctor is probably still in surgery. We’ll be here if he comes before you’re finished,” Jeonghan added, lightly pushing on the younger’s back until he stood up.

Lifeless, Jihoon walked with Jun to the bathroom where the older watched him wash himself of the blood that stained his skin. He scrubbed especially hard at his fingers where the red was the darkest and thickest. He was in there for a total of 15 minutes, but emerged relatively clean and wearing a different shirt, Jun having tucked the soiled one away deep in his bag, out of sight. When they returned, the doctor still hadn’t come out, but most of the boys were gone.

“Jeonghan took them all back to the dorm,” Seungcheol explained, Jihoon sitting back down next to him, “Having all of us here would have just drawn attention this situation doesn’t need. Joshua and I decided to stay. Jun, you can go back as well.”

“No, I’ll stay,” the other said, sitting down in Jeonghan’s old chair.

Seungcheol nodded and then looked at Jihoon, “Do…Do you feel a little better?”

Jihoon said nothing for a few beats too long, his eyes trained back on the white floors, “…No.”

The four of them fell into silence after that, another two hours ticking by. Jun and Joshua had fallen into a restless sleep in the hard, plastic chairs and Seungcheol had closed his eyes to rest for a moment. Jihoon was the only one wide awake and too alert. The white lights blinded him and the disinfectant burned his nose.

Finally, after too long, the doctor emerged from the operating room, looking exhausted. Jihoon saw him first and scrambled out of his seat towards the man, his sudden departure rousing the other three as they followed him.

“Tell me that you saved her. Tell me that she’s alright!” he begged, breathless.

“Are you four her family?” the doctor asked.

“Yes,” Jihoon answered without hesitation, but the doctor looked unconvinced.

“What is your relation to the patient?”

Jihoon faltered, then, but Seungcheol quickly came to his aid, “Doctor, the three of us are her friends and he’s her boyfriend. He saw the accident happen. He was with her all the way until they got here at the hospital.”

The man looked between Seungcheol, Jihoon and the other two boys. Taking into consideration Jihoon’s desperate expression, he sighed deeply through his nose and nodded his head.

“She’s alive-” Jihoon’s legs nearly gave out from relief, “but she’s not out of the woods yet. We were able to stabilize her, but she suffered major internal trauma. There’s an 80% chance that she may not even make it through the night.”

80…80%? Jihoon’s mouth went dry and his heart plummeted into his stomach. “Y-You mean…she might…she’s not going to…” he stammered, the doctor’s eyes flashing sympathetically.

“Those are just the facts, but let’s not think that way,” he advised, “We’re going to keep a very close eye on her tonight and see how she is tomorrow. In the meantime, we are informing her family and letting her rest.”

“Can I see her? Please?”

“She’s still asleep.”

“Please, I just want to see her.”

This wasn’t the first time the doctor had seen a desperate, distraught significant other, but that didn’t make it any easier to face them. Looking into Jihoon’s eyes, seeing how not being able to see you would probably kill him, he nodded his head.

“She’s in room 211. Just down this hall and to the left.”

Jihoon was gone before the doctor could say anything else, jogging down the halls in the direction of your room while Seungcheol and the rest stayed behind to continue speaking with the doctor. He made it to your door in the blink of an eye, using a shaky hand to turn the knob and swing the door open. It was dimly lit in your room, the steady beat of the heart monitor the only noise he could hear clearly. He slowly trekked inside, catching sight of you immediately.

God…you looked…terrible. You were bruised black and blue, your head bandaged, your left arm and right leg casted. There were cuts on your face, bandages on your right shoulder that wound down to the wrist. He conjured the mental picture he had of you just a few hours ago, looking stunning in your date night outfit. He could hardly believe that this was you now; hooked up to machines and IVs, barely breathing on your own…nowhere near conscious.

“Y/N…Jagi…” he whispered, standing beside you, desperate to hold you yet too terrified to touch you.

Leaning over you, he pressed a long kiss to your forehead, his tears springing fresh and a pained sob catching in his throat. He kissed your forehead a second time. A third. He pressed a kiss to your right cheek, then your left. The tears kept coming, spilling from his eyes as he peppered you tenderly with kisses.

“Oh, Y/N,” he groaned brokenly, collapsing into the chair by your bed and gently taking your right hand in both of his, holding onto you for dear life, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I said to you. I’m sorry for telling you to leave. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for being the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Jihoon screwed his eyes shut, holding the back of your hand to his cheek, peppering kisses to the bruised skin.

“If…If anyone is up there…If she’s talking to you…Please…I’m begging you, please…Don’t take her from me,” he whispered into the air, his heart clenching mercilessly, “Please bring her back to me. Don’t take her away. I love her so much, please don’t take her. I promise I’ll be better. I’ll make her my priority. I’ll never take her for granted again, but please! Please!”

He kissed the back of your hand and laid it back down on the bed, laying his cheek on top of it. He stared at your sleeping face, listened to your heartbeat through the monitor. His tears continued to drip from his eyes, even as he closed them to picture you healthy, happy and back in his arms.

“I don’t want my very last words to you to be that you make me sick,” he whispered, nuzzling into your hand, “I love you, Y/N. If you leave me like this…How am I supposed to be move on if you leave me like this? I love you so much it hurts. I love you so much I can hardly breathe without you. I love you so much that I would quit music and everything else in the world just to keep you with me. I love you, Y/N. I love you.”

A kiss to your wrist and one last prayer to the universe.

“Please don’t take her from me.”

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Epilogue - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff

Chapter: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | end | EPILOGUE |

Word Count: 2.3 K

Recommended Song: Paul Kim - Every Day, Every Moment (This song’s mentioned in the comment from ch4 by @younghee-17 , I looked up the translation, and I thought why not. So, thank you, hehe)

--

Jihoon tumbles out of his carelessly-parked car with various utterances of profanities. He is late. He is late for his sons’ bedtime story, which is a capital no. Especially since the promise for that was exclusively made between the three of them, the words of a man.

Upon arriving in front of the kids’ room, Jihoon knows that he is in a bigger problem than he thought he would be in before. You are placing the book you’ve just finished reading back into its shelf, signaling that the boys had been waiting for Jihoon until they become too tired and let you read instead.

When Jihoon catches your gaze as you walk out the room, he can’t help but bite the bottom half of his lips, knowing that you will definitely confront him. However, as soon as you reach him, Jihoon speaks up first, trying to put off the inevitable. “What was it that you read them?”

“The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids.”

“What? That was like—“

“Don’t worry. They’d fallen asleep before the wolf knocked the second time,” you assure him as his expression twists in slight exasperation.

“Why do we still have wolf story? I thought I’ve gotten rid of them all.”

You raise your eyebrow at his seemingly exaggerated response. “It’s in one of the new books you bought. It’s something like a collection of a hundred bedtime stories. What’s wrong with wolves, though? In the end, the story either serves a good message or ends with a good ending.”

Jihoon sighs, realizing that he’s going off a little too strong. “I told you they have nightmares about the wolf. That’s all.”

“Yeah, sure. That is indeed all,” you remark while crossing your hands in front of your middle, challenging him.

“It’s just- Do you remember when the kids visited the hospital? They- They talked about the Big Bad Wolf being the reason of you staying in the hospital. The Big Bad Wolf being the cause of that whole catastrophe. The Big Bad Wolf being me.”

A tight smile makes an appearance on your lips as you think about the event that happened a few months ago. Your children, they are sensitive, observant, and understanding. The degree of each of those qualities that they possess is impossible. One that’s still fresh on your mind was when a few days after you brought them back home, they caught on what’s happening. They noticed that you had done things differently than how they’re used to, and they even asked you about that. In the end, you had to sit with them and explain your best about your amnesia. They didn’t have full comprehension of it, but their spirit didn’t die at the news that their mother forgot everything about them.

“Oh, so Mommy doesn’t remember me and Jimin?” Jaemin had questioned with panic strewn all over his face.

“But Mommy knows us now. How could Mommy know if Mommy doesn’t remember?” Jimin scratched his head in confusion, but amid your tears, you chuckled.

“Mommy may not remember now, but Jaemin and Jimin can help Mommy.”

Jimin clapped his hands together at this. Squealing, he said, “Yes! We can help Mommy remember! Mommy! Jimin knows the way to school! And Jaemin hyung can do breakfast. It’s all good, Mommy!”

“Yes! I can pack my own lunchbox,” Jaemin added, his eyes brightened at the prospect of helping your recovery. “And if Mommy has questions, Jaemin can ask Uncle Boo or Mommy can ask Daddy instead. Daddy promised to be home a lot, right, Jimin?”

The younger boy nodded. “Yes. And Jimin can ask Mrs. Seo for help, too! And Grandma! So Mommy doesn’t have to worry.”

And helping you, they did. On the first day of you driving them back to school—after a long discussion and a lot of begging to Jihoon—you had stopped abruptly in the crossroad even though the traffic light was still showing green. There were a lot of honks, and your head suddenly pounded so painfully. You couldn’t hear your sons calling for you, too caught up in the memory of your accident. You didn’t know what’s going on, just that suddenly you’re sitting on the sidewalk with a stranger, who you figured helped you out of your car and moved it from the middle of the street. There was an officer who’s asking you questions, which you couldn’t pay attention to since your head was spinning so hard.

Jihoon arrived eight minutes later, worry painted on his trembling figure. He thanked the stranger and the officer and brought you and the boys home. Jimin was crying. He received a pat from the stranger that told him he’s done a wonderful job, and that calmed the boy a little. Jaemin was holding onto your hand and clutching your phone in his palm. Later that night, you found out that Jimin shouted out the car window for help, and Jaemin called Jihoon to the location. And also, your driving permit was confiscated by Jihoon.

That was not the only time they had helped you out. They told you about the conference at school before Seungkwan did and even explained to you what’s supposed to be happening and pointed out who is whose parent. They helped you remember important dates. They helped you remember their favorite meals or colors or stories. And slowly, you gained those little memories back with their and Jihoon’s help.

You have remembered Jihoon and everything that he’s done, so you understand the immense repentance he felt. You understand him, and therefore the easy forgiveness that slipped out of your lips once you feel like you’ve remembered enough to make a decision. You’ve forgiven him. And it makes you feel at peace that everything now seems to fall back into the right places. But you don’t know that Jihoon’s not there yet. You don’t know that he’s still worrying.

Back then, Jaemin and Jimin had pointed out how you always stayed up late and how Jihoon’s never around. They even volunteered to be substitute guards for Jihoon to ward off the Big Bad Wolf that they believed was the reason you’re hospitalized. Their imaginative brains failed to recognize the fact that even though a nightmare of the Big Bad Wolf is real, the creature itself never existed. Even so, they had tried to make sense of the situation with the limited knowledge that they have. And after everything, it’s really not a surprise that Jihoon would fit himself in that fictional role.

“Jihoon,” you coo, placing your thumb and forefinger on his chin to raise his head. “You’ve never been a Big Bad Wolf.”

“Do you think so?”

The look that he’s giving you is unsure and unguarded, and this makes your stomach churns. You don’t want him to be insecure like this. You want him to show you that little dimple of his or roll his eyes at you or smirk or anything but that. “Yes. You’ve never been a Big Bad Wolf, Ji,” you repeat.

His gaze on you softens, and now it feels like a million butterflies take flight inside your stomach. You hold your breath and let your eyes separate ways with his, trying to keep your feeling on check. But then you remember the real reason you had gone out of the children’s room and straight to him. And you blame Jihoon for successfully distracting you. So you look back up, mirth twinkling in your eyes. “Never. Never a Big Bad Wolf,” you pause, a small smirk forming on your lips. “You’re small.”

“What?” he snaps, his disbelief is as clear as crystal. “I take offense in that!”

“Yeah, sure. But first, I need to talk to you about something.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise as he curses, “Shit! You get to this part.”

“You know I’m going to confront you?” you ask as you raise your eyebrow once again.

“Yeah, you’re giving me that look. I’m sorry, Y/n. I know I promise to come home before the kids fall asleep. I swear I clearly told Mr. Kim I’d agree if the meeting is quick, but God, no quick meeting is quick enough. It’s infuriating! Seungcheol hyung needs to stop buying that tiny amount of stock every time and just fucking take over that place already.”

You chuckle in amusement, momentarily forgetting your intended topic of conversation. “The whole Seventeen members can help him with the stock or whatever. You can buy their stock, so why don’t you?” You pause, waiting for him to respond, but he doesn’t. “I believe it’s not only about the money, Ji. Anyway, that’s not what I want to talk about. But that is surely why the thought resurfaces.”

“Alright, what is it?” Jihoon gulps.

“Let’s get you ready for bed first, okay? Go take a shower or change your clothes.”

“No, I don’t want to hear bad news before going to bed.”

You let out another chuckle before answering, “Okay. Then at least let’s go to our room.”

Jihoon begins again with his speech of apology once you both enter your room. Lying down on the bed, you watch him making all his frantic gestures. “Jihoon, c’mere,” you interrupt with a tilt of your head, motioning him to lie down with you. You open your arm wide, reaching for him as Jihoon carefully climbs the bed. Once Jihoon settles down beside you, you bring his head under your chin and let his arms and legs wrapped around your body. “Let me talk, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles.

“Thank you”—Jihoon stares up at you, utterly bewildered since that’s not what he expected—“You’ve worked hard to make things right between us and the kids. You’ve changed for the better, or I’d rather say, found your way back to the Jihoon I knew. Thank you. And it’s probably not fair and really cruel of me to bring this up, but I don’t think that leaving things alone in my head would be a good thing.

“Jihoon… Have you… Have you ever thought what would’ve happened if- if I hadn’t made it?”

Jihoon’s head jerks up to face you, absolute dread evident in his eyes. “No! What are you talking about?”

“No, shh, hear me out. I’m alive, I know, but… Had that thought crossed your mind?”

“No, please, don’t say something like that.”

“Jihoon… That could’ve happened. Or I could’ve forgotten everything and had no way of remembering. I don’t know, Jihoon. The thing is… Back when you gave me a tour, you didn’t notice that a lot of the flowers are withering, did you? Just like how you knew nothing about the broken pots.”

Jihoon lowers his head as he mutters inaudibly, “No, I didn’t. I- I have no ideas.”

“You love me… right?”

“Of course! It was- I was—“

“But what about the kids? Do you love them as much as you love me, Jihoon?”

“Y/n…”

“If… If I had died, what would’ve happened? Would you have fallen too deep into your grief that you left them alone and uncared for like my garden?”

“Y/n, please, stop.” Jihoon buries his head in your chest as he tightens his hold around you. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You place your palm on top of his head, giving it a few strokes before resorting to play with his hair instead.  “I know. I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry that I put it like that. You’re a good man. Ji, I know that. But I need to put that thought inside your head. Because frankly, I’d rather you love them than me.”

“I love them. I don’t know, maybe- maybe I do love you more. Maybe that’s because I love you first. Maybe that’s because you’ve stayed with me the longest. I don’t- But… I- I love them, too. I love them, Y/n. And I promise you I’ll show them.”

“Yes, Jihoon. I believe you. And you have shown them. I just hope that it wouldn’t stop, ever again.”

Both of you stay in that position—tangled in each other—in silence for a long time. But it was only until Jihoon extricates himself from you and sits down, wearing the expression akin to one of a lost puppy. “But… Baby, Y/n-ah…” he starts, his lower lip is caught in between his teeth. “I know we just discussed this, but can- can we send the kids to Busan this summer holiday?”

He receives one raised eyebrow from you, you obviously judging him.

“No, listen- listen to me first. I know I said I’ll show the boys that I love them, meaning I need to spend more time with them, which I do and still doing. And, um, maybe, family trip, but, I- You- You know… I was thinking… can we go to, like, another honeymoon? I mean, for recovering purposes! I- I know that you’ve remembered a lot now. But you know, because of what happened, I’m afraid that our memory only leaves a bitter note since you remembered it—me in the Han River’s Big Tree and our wedding—back when I was a, um, jerk—“

“Was?”

“What? I’m not anymore! Am- Am I? I mean- This kid discussion, I know I was wrong, and I- I’m trying hard to make it up and make it right. You- you said it yourself that I’ve worked hard. I’ll keep—“

Any abashment from his earlier request leaves Jihoon’s features as panic takes over, and it makes you chuckle in further amusement. This man.

“Ya! I’m serious. Do tell me if I’m becoming a jerk. I don’t want us to—“

“I know. I love you. You’re not a jerk, Jerk.”

“Whatever. I love you, too, I guess,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes at you before he grins so wide you can see almost all of his teeth. “So, our honeymoon?”

--

알 수 없는 미래지만

네 품속에 있는 지금 순간 순간이

영원 했으면 해

The future is unknown

But each moment of being in your arms

I wish it would last forever

--

Taglist: @thatfangurltho @chwenchew @la-hermosaluna @heolykpop

A/N: This ends, people. Well, not really, but, I FREAKING FINISHED A STORY!!! I have never finished writing anything unless it’s for school, so this is a major accomplishment :’) Thank you for everyone who’s been in this journey with me. I appreciate you all, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️ ❤️ ❤️  

(and translation credited to colorcodedlyrics, but they credited it to Paul Kim (?))

[svtmatokis]

Dating them not you

Request: You getting kicked out of your flat and you have no where else to go so you call your boyfriend Jihoon but he’s too busy to help you so you call the other members and they try to help since it takes a few days for Jihoon to snap back to reality.

Requested by @scorpiomonbebe

Pairing: Jihoonxreader; ReaderxSeventeen (friendship)

You couldn’t believe it. You had been living at your current place ever since you moved out on your own. You were a good tenant, you paid rent on time and you literally had no damages on the place.  But yet, after five loyal years, your landlords who were this couple from Busan, had given you a notice stating that their daughter had recently given birth and they wanted to move back to the city to be closer to her. That meant that you had one week to find and move into a new place.

You had no idea what to do, your parents were currently travelling and had no cellular service. They had left you in the care of your lovely boyfriend of three years, Jihoon.

Jihoon. That’s who you were going to call.

Quickly pressing 1 on your phone, you waited with baited breath as the phone rang.

“Y/N?” You heard his voice over the line.

“Ah...Jihoonie...do you have a moment?” You asked hesitantly, you knew that the group was preparing for a comeback so they were all fairly busy.

“Neh, Neh, what is it?” He asked though he sounded distracted. Probably in the middle of working on another song.

“My landlords just gave me a one week notice to move out…” you started slowly.

“Mwoh? Jinja? That sucks. Let me know if you need anything.”he said still sounding distracted. “I have to go now. We’re going to start recording. Call me later when you figure things out okay?” And suddenly the line went dead.

“But I do need you…” you whispered into the phone before letting out a big sigh.

You thought about all the people you could call, Mingyu? No, he was probably busy writing raps for the next comeback.

All your friends were currently on holiday since it was reading break so that wasn’t going to work.

Suddenly, a thought hit you.

Grabbing your phone again, you looked for a number.

Y/N: Jisoo….

JS: ?? Hi Y/N what’s up?

You quickly texted him everything that had happened and suddenly your phone rang.

“Oppa?”

“Are you okay?” You could hear Jisoo’s voice which was slightly is out of breath. Probably had dance practice.

You hadn’t wanted to call Jisoo, but when Jihoon was in producer mode, it was really hard to talk to him. Something that you had wanted to bring up but never had the chance to. Jisoo and the other members always came through whenever you needed someone to talk to or vent to about your relationship with Jihoon.

Not saying that you were unhappy with Jihoon, he just had moments where your mind drew a complete blank when it came to how he acted sometimes.

“Neh…” you sighed, “I just don’t know what to do….” you looked around your apartment at all your things. You had a lot of packing to do, and you also had to find a place that was immediately available.

You heard Jisoo sigh on the other side, “Have you called Jihoon?”

You nodded but realized he couldn’t see you. “Neh...but he’s in producer mode right now..”

“Ah….” Jisoo said understanding and thought to himself. “I’m grabbing the boys and we’ll be at your place in twenty minutes. Don’t go anywhere”

“Boys?” You asked hesitantly. Were they really going to drag Jihoon over too? “And don’t you have practice?”

“Coups and Jeonghan Hyung, we’d grab Jihoon but the kid hasn’t left the studio since yesterday. The three of us have finished recording for the day so we’re basically free. See you soon.” he said and the line went dead.

‘What is with people hanging up on me today?’ You thought to yourself.

Exactly twenty minutes later, your doorbell rang and in walked, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jisoo with various snacks.

“What. Am. I. Going. To. Do” you muttered banging your head against the arm of the couch but was quickly padded by Jeonghans hand.

“How about not giving yourself a concussion before WE decide what to do?” Jisoo suggested from his spot next to you pulling you farther away.

“We?” you asked looking at the three of them who gave you looks of obviousness.

“We aren’t going to let you go through this on your own Y/N. Realistically, Jihoon should be here, but that child becomes oblivious to the world when he’s producing.”  Jeonghan shook his head, “We need to have a talk with him regarding priorities….this isn’t the first time you’ve called for our help”

Seungcheol nodded his head in agreement. “You said you had one week to pack right?”

You nodded before sighing and falling backwards into a lying down position, “It’s not packing and getting my stuff out of here that’s the issue...it’s trying to find a place on such short notice and getting everything moved in.. then I have work meaning I actually have less time to pack and I have this deadline to meet too and argggg” you pulled at your hair. This was so frustrating! Timing was not on your side at all.

The three boys looked at you with concern in their eyes.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol looked at you, “When was the last time you saw Jihoon?”

You shrugged your shoulders, apart from him being with Seventeen, he often locked himself in his production studio to work on future material for the team too and you worked as a project manager for Seungcheol dad’s company so it was hard to find time that made sense for both of you.

The two of you were labeled the power couple of both worlds, him in the entertainment industry and you being one of the most sought after project managers the corporate side. It was actually through Seungcheol that you had met Jihoon during the company Christmas party you were forced to attend.

You had known Seungcheol ever since you started working for his father and the two of you had a nice friendship that never developed to anything more as his father had hoped but alas, the producer of Seventeen had caught your eye and not too long after the first meeting, he had called you out for a date on one of the rare times your schedules had worked for the two of you.

You knew that dating an idol was hard but you and Jihoon had expressed and understood the concern, but as of late since they started preparing for another comeback in a row, he had less and less time for you.

“Maybe a month ago? We text a lot...but we haven’t gone out out…oh wait no, it was at your Clap comeback party. So about three weeks ago?” You thought, “Yea...three weeks ago”

You were met with silence as the three boys looked at you, shock evident on their faces.

“Y/N, we had lunch literally last week, and the week before that.” Jisoo stated, “Hell the four of us went out for dinner three days ago and don’t think we don’t know that you and Wonwoo hit up the bookstore yesterday, that guy came in with a new bookshelf worth.”

You shrugged, “Everytime I ask Jihoon, he says he’s busy and tells me that we’ll go out next time. He always says if I have a problem, to call him but then this happened and you guys are the ones here not him. Sometimes I feel like he cares, but not enough. Sometimes I just feel like he takes me for granted.” you looked up at the ceiling and let out a big breath.

“Y/N…..” Jeonghan said getting off the couch and sitting next to you while Jisoo moved to the top of your head and Seungcheol took Jisoo’s spot next to you.

“How long have you been holding that in for?” Seungcheol asked as he patted your arm.

You shrugged and blinked back tears, “I dont know….a while?” You sighed sitting up and moved so that the four of you were sitting in a circle. “I mean, your dad always tells me to take a break, go out or something, so I do. But whenever I ask Jihoon, he’s never available so I end up going out with one of my friends or with one of you guys.” You wrapped your arms around your knees and rested your chin on top of them.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m dating Seventeen as a whole...I just want my Jihoonie back….but I have to deal with this first so…”

Silence fell on the group, all deep in thought until Seungcheol sat up straight going into leader mode.

“Okay, we have one week right?” He asked looking at you for confirmation.

“Realistically three days if I use my one sick day…”

“Don’t worry about work. I’ll talk to my father, he only speaks highly of you so I’m sure he’d understand.  I want you to not worry about Jihoon okay? Right now, we have to focus on what’s happening and sucks for him if he claims he’s too busy for his own girlfriend. You have us to help you.”

You hesitated looking at the determined look on his face,”But I dont want to bother you though-“

The group cut you off with laughter.

“You aren’t bothering us Y/N… we’re taking care of you like you’ve taken care of us.” Jisoo said smiling wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Neh, remember those nights you used to come to our practice room to bring dinner and snacks when you knew we were preparing for a live show? And all those times you came to support us at our fan meets and concerts?” Jeonghan asked and you nodded.

“If we didn’t want to help, we wouldn’t be here okay? You don’t deserve to go through this alone.  Plus, I’m sure once the other members hear about it, they’ll want to help too. You’re family Y/N” Seungcheol finished with bright smile on his face.

Unable to blink back tears you bowed your head, “Thank you.. Thank you so much you guys. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you.”

”Like Coup’s said Y/N, you don’t deserve to go through this alone.” Jeonghan said looking at his phone, “But our leader better call one of the members back before all nine of them call each of us.”

“Right….we didn’t tell them where we were going” Seungcheol chuckled to himself before stepping out to call Sooyoung who was more or less in charge.

You looked at Jisoo who only gave you his innocent eyes and smile while shrugging. “When I told him, he literally took mine and Hannie’s hands and ran out the door.”

“Ah….” you said nodding slightly.

“So we were thinking...for now while you find a place to stay, why don’t you come stay with the three of us?” Jeonghan suggested as the four of you were at your favourite Korean BBQ restaurant having dinner causing you to choke on your meat.

“E-excuse me?” you asked looking at him wide eyed.

“We talked about it on the way here, it’s in the same building at the rest of the team, just a different flat, Jeonghan and I can share a room for the time being…..”  Seungcheol said slowly gaging your reaction.

You put your chopsticks down, “I CANNOT do that.” you said mouthful of meat with finality in your voice.

Two hours later, the four of you were back at your flat with ice cream.

“I cannot believe I agreed to that” you muttered and took a big bite out of your triple chocolate ice cream causing your three best friends to laugh at you.

You guys spent the rest of the night planning what you guys were going to do for that week.

Most of the members were filled in on what your current situation was and they were ready to help where they could. So while you, Seungcheol and Jisoo went flat shopping for the first few days, Jeonghan would lead the packing of your apartment with strict instructions to leave your clothes and undergarments alone.

Reluctantly, you had agreed to stay with the 95’ liners who had gotten their own place within the Pledis flat until you were able to find a place that you could move into but you also made them promise to let you cook and clean during the time you stayed with them. So that was one headache out of the way.

Seungcheol’s father was understanding and even offered to give you the week off but you quickly refused stating that you had a project deadline and just because you were moving and trying to find somewhere to live, didn’t mean that you could neglect your duties.

He moved the project deadline to two weeks forward (cause he could) and told you if you didn’t take the week off, you were fired.  That was more than enough for you to agree.

You had heard from Jihoon only once during the week with a quick text asking if you were okay. You could tell he was still in zombie producer mode so you didn’t push further except a simple “Yes”

The past week had been crazy, much to your dismay, you were unable to find a place right away. The boys would come over whenever they could to help you pack and you did your clothes and personal belongings yourself. The only person you didn’t see at all was Jihoon who according to the other members, had locked himself in the studio only coming out to use the bathroom.

Moving day had finally come, Jisoo and Seungcheol had stayed over at your place the night before to help you finish packing whatever needed to be packing as well as to label what was going to their apartment and what was going into the storage unit. Then Seungcheol and Mingyu would take all your extra stuff in a truck (driven by one of the managers) to a storage unit where your stuff would stay until you found a new place.

Around the time Jeonghan had showed up to wake the boys up, Jihoon who had finally emerged from his man cave and walked into the dorm.

The boys quickly noticed him but were too busy getting ready to say anything so he approached Dino who looked like he was ready since he was sitting on the couch on his phone.

“Ah Hyung, you’re finally done?” the maknae asked looking up at Jihoon.

“Neh…” he said in a slight daze rubbing his eyes, “What’s going on? It’s a rest day for us isn’t it?”

“Oh...Didn’t you know? Y/N-Noona’s moving today. So we’re all helping her. Don’t you talk to your girlfriend Hyung?”  the ever blunt maknae asked.

Jihoon felt guilt wash over him as he thought about your call earlier that week.

Noting the look on his face, Dino gestured to Jeonghan who was talking to Mingyu since he was one of the few members going to the storage unit with Seungcheol.

“You should talk to Jeonghan-Hyung, he’s been helping Y/N all this week when he wasn’t at practice.”

Jihoon observed the room and noted that two people were missing.

“Where’s Seungcheol-Hyung And Jisoo-Hyung?” He asked and the maknae thought for a moment.

“Oh, they stayed with Y/N last night to help her finish what we didn’t do this week.” He paused, “You should really talk to Jeonghan Hyung though..”

Reluctantly, he walked over to Jeonghan who gave him a look of faux surprise.

“So he lives” Jeonghan said looking at him from the corner of his eye, “Don’t worry, she’s not mad. She said she was used to it”

Those words didn’t make Jihoon feel any better.

Seeing the look on Jihoon’s face, Jeonghan patted his shoulder, “It’s okay, you’re coming with us right?” he asked quickly.

Jihoon  nodded his head despite how tired he was as he changed into something he didn’t mind getting dirty or damaged and soon he was out the door with the rest of them. Totally forgetting to ask where you were actually going to be moving.

Back your flat, you, Jisoo and Seungcheol were passed out on the floor, surrounded by packed boxes and bags. Seungcheol had passed out near the couch while you and Jisoo were closer to the kitchen sharing one large blanket. The three of you fell asleep somewhere between 4-5am, with you passing out first and Jisoo and Seungcheol following not far behind.

That was how Jeonghan and the rest of Seventeen had found you.

“Aish… leave you three alone and it looks the aftermath of a party. What happened to the neat box piles that I labeled?”

Still half asleep, you responded in a tired voice “We had to reorganize some boxes cause not EVERYTHING is going to the storage unit. A few boxes of clothes are going to your place as well as some shoes.” You slowly opened your eyes and noticed that instead of the ten boys you were expecting you saw eleven. “Jihoonie” you said with a tired smile, “What are you doing here?”

He slowly walked up to you, almost nervously, “Y/N-ah….” he knelt down and put his head on your shoulder almost bowing. “Mian…”

“Hmmm?” You asked in a sleepy daze, Seungcheol and Jisoo were slowly waking up as Jeonghan motioned for everyone to start moving things to the truck and also it give you two alone time.

Once the boys dispersed, Jihoon slowly pulled you up, knowing how dizzy you got when you were still half asleep.

”I’m sorry...I’m so freaking sorry” Jihoon said holding both your hands as he bowed. “I should’ve been here for you. I knew you were going through a tough time and yet I still put my needs over yours…”

You shook your head, “It’s okay...Jisoo, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan Oppa helped out a lot. I understand when you’re busy Jihoon.”

He shook his head and muttered, “That’s not what Jeonghan-Hyung said…”

“Hmmm?” you asked sitting up completely as you noticed the boys were helping carry various boxes to the truck and the furniture being moved by the professionals you hired.

“He said that after you called me, you called Jisoo-hyung right away.” he sighed and looked away, “He said that it’s been happening so often that Jisoo keeps his phone with him at all times now...I didn’t realize it was that bad…”

You looked at him and sighed, this was not a conversation you wanted to have with him at 8am in the morning especially on moving day.

“It’s….complicated” you admitted. “I understand that you’re busy so I don’t let it bother me too much...but when it gets to the point where I try to spend all my free time with you but you always tell me you’re busy and our schedules don’t match up and when you do have free time, you use it to sleep or write music or spend it on your own….it makes me feel neglected. Times when I need you, you’re busy, times like this week…” you sighed and ran your hand through your hair, “Sometimes, I feel like I’m dating your members and not you…”

Your last statement broke Jihoon’s heart as he realized what he had done. “Y/N…” he started but you shook your head.

“Jisoo and Seungcheol make it a point to have lunch with me at least once a week, the three of them make sure we have dinner AT LEAST once every other week, if I can’t make dinner, they have this weird tendency to show up at my office with take out. Don’t ask, I stopped questioning a long time ago. Wonwoo and I go to the bookstore almost every month, if not the bookstore, he and Mingyu and I go for coffee at least once a week. Hell everyone else MAKES me do something with them when they know I’m free and you’re busy. We don’t spend time together outside of events, I get that you play a big role in your team Jihoon...but please...make time for me too…” you looked down.

The next thing you knew, Jihoon had wrapped his arms around you and whispered apologies in your ear. He never realized that you felt that way and he realized himself that indeed, he made you feel neglected and that he wasn’t the best boyfriend and that you deserved better.

You patted his back, “It’s okay Jihoon… I told you, I’m not mad…”

He pulled away but kept his arms securely around you. You noticed that his eyes were slightly red from tearing up and you put your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t cry… I told you.. I’m not mad at you… I just want the Jihoon I had a year ago back..”

His arms tightened around you as he nodded his head, letting more tears of guilt fall. He wasn’t one to show emotions in front of people, but with you it was different. You had supported him through everything and took care of his members too which is why in turn, they treated you like family.

“I promise I’ll do better… I promise…” he whispered kissing the top of your head. You nodded your head in response and wrapped your arms tightly around nuzzling into his chest.  It felt good to have his arms around you once again, and this time, you knew it was for the long term. Cause Jihoon was never one to break promises.

The two of you stayed like that until Jeonghan popped his head through the door with a knowing smile on his face as if he heard the whole conversation.

“Y/N, we’re pretty much done packing the stuff into the two trucks. But you better come out before Seokmin goes through the box labeled undergarments that he has in his hands.”

“The hell Jeonghan, I said Jisoo was supposed to take that box.” you said pulling away from Jihoon while Jihoon stood up quickly and grabbed the umbrella next to the door before walking out.

The next thing you heard was a screaming Seokmin and a snap causing you and Jeonghan to cringe.

Seungcheol, Sooyoung and Mingyu ran through the door laughing with tears in their eyes before collapsing on the floor while Jisoo walked closely behind them with a straight face holding your umbrella in two pieces.

“You need a new umbrella, and maybe a tranquilizer to subdue Jihoon…. he hasn’t stopped chasing Seokmin around the truck and I’m surprised for someone who claimed he was so tired.”

The rest of the move went by well (outside of your broken umbrella and a frustrated Jihoon), you made sure he came with you to unpack your things with Jisoo, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, and Minghao while the rest of the boys went to the storage unit to put your other things away.

You stayed with the 95’ line for about two weeks which meant that Jihoon too “lived” with the 95’ line. He would still go back to his dorm to sleep once in a while but he was a frequent visitor during the days they had a break.

Jihoon kept his promise like you knew he would and spent as much time with you as he could, be it watching a movie at the dorms or even joining you for dinner with the 95’ line once in a while.

He was especially attentive when you had finally found a place, in the same building and made sure he helped you move your things this time. Plus, it was another place he could crash if he didn’t want to spend time in the dorm with the other members and boy was he a frequent visitor, especially the first few nights after his comeback, you would feel the door to your bedroom open and soon arms would be wrapped tightly around you and suddenly, everything felt like home.

[seventeen-scenarios]

Jihoon/Reader 03

Here's a really quick scenario. Apologies that it's short. ~ Admin M

"Ah! Stop! What are you doing?!" Jihoon ducked away from you, almost falling over, but he caught himself against the wall. "Why are you touching me?"

"I'm not touching you, I'm touching your hair!" you giggled.

"Why? The boyfriend plays with the girl's hair, not the other way around."

"But your hair is more fun to play with than mine." You fiddled with his bangs again, swishing them around, parting them down the middle just so he would look funny. Jihoon patiently stood and puffed out his cheeks while you had your fun. You took your sweet time braiding his blond locks, but just as you finished, he shook his head away from you. 

"My turn!" he said quickly, and wrestled his hands into your hair shaking it around. 

"Hey, you're messing it up!" You laughed, trying to push him away, but his arm grabbed back at you, pulling you into a surprise kiss. He pulled away smiling, but you pouted. 

"I made my hair so pretty today just for you and you messed it up."

"There, there, I'll fix it" he offered. He ran his fingers gently through your thick hair, carefully separating the tangles before tucking it behind your ears and kissing you again.

"Thank you" you smiled.

"Now fix mine." He tilted his head towards you and you undid his braids. You ran your hands through his soft, fluffy hair a few more times and smoothed it out.

"Done yet?" He looked up. "I think you just like my hair too much" he chuckled.

"It's just so fluffy! I'm jealous." Jihoon rolled his eyes. "I can't help it!" you laughed. "But promise me you won't let the coordi-noonas dye it too often please? It's already been like, three different colors and you haven't even debuted yet. I just don't want it to lose it's special effect."

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes again, but promised he wouldn't be the next G-Dragon.

[synity]

pleaaaase write about woozi having a partner who is soft and sweet…and they tend to get into trouble or accidents because they are too kind and good for this world?

am i even making sense? 😭 (i personally think the longer the better (like it doesn’t have to be just one scenario haha)…but please do write it how long or short you want it to be)

ps I love your writing and I love fluff💗

Thanks!

Sunshine & Sunshine protector

(Lee Jihoon x FemReader)

*Slice of life, fluff, Romance, Soft, Comfort, Gentle Intimacy Emotional support, vunerability, Emotional Drama, Healing, Intimate Domestic*

The first time Woozi met his partner, he already knew they were different. Not in a flashy or striking way but in the quiet, unshakeable gentleness that surrounded them like a soft glow.

They had a heart too big for this world.

It was a Sunday morning, sunlight slipping softly through the thin curtains, dappling the small apartment in warm gold. Woozi stirred, blinking awake, and immediately felt the familiar weight of his partner curled against him, breath soft and steady on his chest.

her fingers lazily twined, a silent communication that said more than words could. Slowly, his partner’s eyes opened, still heavy with sleep, and she smiled at Woozi, sleepy and sweet.

“Good morning,” Woozi whispered, voice thick with affection.

“Morning,” she replied softly, voice like a lullaby.

she shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Woozi’s waist as if they never wanted to let go. Woozi breathed in their scent something fresh, like morning rain and lavender and smiled.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair behind their ear.

“Better now,” she murmured, resting their head on his shoulder.

For a while, they just stayed like that a tangled heap of limbs and warmth letting the quiet fill the room. The small things mattered most here: the gentle squeeze of a hand, the brush of a nose, the peacefulness of shared silence.

His partner’s kindness wasn’t just a trait; it was a force of nature. And sometimes, that force pulled them into trouble.

One afternoon, Woozi was in the studio, scribbling down melodies, when his phone buzzed insistently.

It was a message from her: “Please come home. Emergency.”

His heart immediately tightened. He grabbed his jacket and rushed home.

When he arrived, he found his partner sitting on the porch steps, clothes smudged with dirt, a scrape on their elbow, and a small, frightened kitten clutched in their arms.

“I found her stuck under the dumpster,” she said quietly, eyes shining with concern. “I couldn’t leave her there.”

Woozi sighed, half exasperated, half amused.

“You’re going to wear yourself out with these rescue missions,” he said gently.

“I can’t help it,” she whispered. “How could I leave her?”

He knelt beside them, taking the kitten into his hands to check it. “You have a heart too big for your own good.”

she smiled weakly.

“And that’s why I have you,” they said.

Their mornings were rarely dull, especially when they cooked together.

One rainy Saturday, the two of them decided to bake cookies, the smell of rain tapping against the windows and the warm scent of vanilla filling the kitchen.

But true to form, their partner’s sweet nature caused the usual chaos.

They insisted on sharing cookies with every delivery person who passed by their door.

Woozi chuckled, watching as their partner bundled up a small bag of treats, waving goodbye to the courier outside.

Inside, flour was everywhere on counters, on their noses, even in their hair. Their partner giggled as Woozi tried to catch flying dough balls, slipping and almost falling.

“Be careful!” Woozi warned, laughing.

“Where’s the fun in being careful all the time?” they teased, nudging him with a flour-covered elbow.

Despite the mess, Woozi loved these moments the way her laughter bounced around the small space, how her eyes lit up with joy at the simplest pleasures.

But beneath her bright smile and boundless kindness lay a vulnerability Woozi rarely saw.

One night, as the city’s lights flickered below their balcony, Woozi found his partner sitting alone, knees drawn to their chest, gaze distant.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked softly, sitting beside them.

They hesitated before whispering, “Sometimes I wonder if I’m too much. If my kindness just makes me weak.”

Woozi’s heart clenched.

“You’re not weak,” he said firmly, turning to face them. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“But I keep getting hurt… and I’m afraid I’ll break.”

He reached out, taking her hand gently. “Then let me be your strength. You don’t have to carry the world alone.”

Tears shimmered in their eyes, and Woozi pulled them close, holding them until the fear faded.

Woozi’s love was in the details the way he always made sure his partner had a warm cup of tea after a long day, the soft hand on their back when they needed comfort, the quiet presence beside them during sleepless nights.

One evening, when his partner was exhausted from helping a friend in need, Woozi noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the tremble in their voice.

He cooked her favorite soup, carrying the bowl to the couch where she sat, wrapped in a blanket.

“Eat,” he urged, spooning the warm broth into their mouth.

she smiled gratefully. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“I just want to take care of you,” Woozi replied.

Not every moment was tender; sometimes they teased each other mercilessly.

One afternoon, Woozi found his partner attempting to fix the sink with absolutely no plumbing knowledge.

Water sprayed everywhere, soaking Woozi’s shirt.

“Seriously?” he groaned.

she laughed, water dripping from their hair. “I’m trying!”

Woozi shook his head, grabbing the wrench. “Leave it to the professional.”

she pouted, but the sparkle in her eyes was unmistakable.

“You’ll always have to rescue me, won’t you?”

“Every time,” Woozi said, pulling her into a playful hug.

After a small concert, Woozi surprised everyone including his partner by publicly acknowledging their relationship.

Taking the microphone, he spoke softly but clearly.

“This is my partner. The kindest person I know, who teaches me every day what love really means.”

His partner blushed deeply, hiding in his side, while the audience cheered.

Later, Woozi teased, “See? I’m not so shy when it comes to you.”

she laughed, squeezing his hand.

Sometimes, when the world was quiet, they shared their deepest thoughts.

One night, wrapped in blankets on the balcony, Woozi asked, “What scares you most?”

his partner hesitated.

“Losing myself. Or losing the people I love.”

Woozi kissed their forehead.

“You’ll never lose me.”

“And I’ll never stop trying to be better, for us.”

He smiled, heart full.

One lazy Sunday, as they lounged in bed, Woozi asked, “Where do you see us in five years?”

she thought carefully.

“A home filled with laughter, music, maybe a few cats.”

Woozi grinned. “Cats, huh?”

“Yes, definitely cats.”

He laughed, pulling her closer.

“We’ll build that life. Together.”

Their life wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was real, filled with love, tenderness, and the kind of kindness that changed everything.

And through it all, Woozi promised to be the steady hand, the safe place, the unwavering love that their partner deserved.

Because sometimes, being too kind for this world just means needing someone who will never let you fall.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Woozi's partner, Y/N, decided to take a leisurely stroll through the bustling city park. The laughter of children and the chirping of birds created a harmonious backdrop. As Y/N walked, she noticed a small boy, no older than four, standing alone near the fountain, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Y/N approached gently, kneeling to meet his gaze. "Hey there, are you okay? Where's your mommy?"

The boy sniffled, "I can't find her."

Concerned, Y/N took his hand. "Let's find her together, okay?"

They began walking through the park, Y/N asking nearby adults if they recognized the child. After several minutes, a frantic woman spotted them and rushed over, her face a mix of relief and fury.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, pulling the boy into her arms. Then, turning to Y/N, her expression darkened. "What were you doing with my son? Were you trying to kidnap him?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "No! He was lost, and I was helping him find you."

But the mother wasn't convinced. She called the police, accusing Y/N of attempting to abduct her child

Within minutes, police officers arrived, separating Y/N and the mother to hear both sides. Y/N explained the situation calmly, emphasizing their concern for the child's safety. Witnesses corroborated Y/N's account, noting their efforts to find the boy's mother.

After reviewing the evidence and speaking with all parties, the officers concluded it was a misunderstanding. They advised the mother to be more vigilant and apologized to Y/N for the distress caused.

Later that evening, Y/N recounted the incident to Woozi, tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just trying to help, but she thought I was a kidnapper."

Woozi pulled them into a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry you went through that. Your heart is pure, and you did the right thing. Don't let this change who you are."

He held them close, offering solace and understanding, reinforcing his unwavering support.

In the days that followed, Y/N grappled with the incident's emotional aftermath. Woozi remained by their side, encouraging her to continue being kind but also to be cautious.

"Your compassion is one of the things I love most about you," he said. "But it's okay to set boundaries and protect yourself too."

Together, they navigated the complexities of kindness in a world that sometimes misunderstood it, emerging stronger and more connected than ever.

The sun was shining softly through the wide city streets, casting warm golden hues on everything it touched. Y/N loved days like these quiet moments when the world felt calm, and even in the chaos of everyday life, there were little chances to help others. She wandered through the park, her heart always open to the small things: a stray cat needing water, an elderly person struggling with their bags, a lost child looking for comfort.

As she walked past a bench near the flower garden, Yn noticed an elderly woman shuffling slowly, a knitted bag hanging loosely from her arm. The woman’s steps faltered, and in the bustling movement of a passing crowd, the wallet she clutched slipped from her grasp and tumbled onto the sidewalk, landing with a soft thud on the concrete.

Yn’s heart immediately leapt. She crouched down quickly and picked it up, holding it carefully in both hands. “Excuse me, ma’am! You dropped this,” she called out, her voice gentle and warm.

The old woman turned sharply, eyes narrowing as she saw Yn holding the wallet. “What are you doing with my wallet?” she snapped, the tone icy and suspicious.

Yn smiled softly, trying to calm her. “I picked it up right away. I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

But the woman’s expression didn’t soften. Instead, it twisted into a scowl. “I don’t know who you are, girl, but you best not be trying anything funny.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. She could feel the sting of distrust, something she rarely encountered, especially when all she meant was to help. “I’m not trying anything,” she said quietly, stepping closer and extending the wallet toward the woman.

But the woman waved her off with a sharp motion. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she growled. “I don’t need some meddling young girl making my day worse.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion, but she kept her composure. “I just want to give this back. You dropped it.”

“Don’t ‘just want’ me, don’t ‘just want’ me, don’t come near me!” the woman spat suddenly, her voice rising and attracting the attention of nearby pedestrians.

Y/N’s heart sank. “Please, I’m only trying to help,” she said, taking a small step back, trying not to escalate the situation.

But the woman’s face was twisted with anger. “You think you’re better than me? Coming here with your fancy attitude, trying to play the hero? You’re nothing but a nosy troublemaker,” she hissed. “You don’t belong here, and I want you gone.”

Y/N blinked, shocked by the harsh words. The woman’s voice cracked as she continued, bitterness and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Who do you think you are, trying to fix everything? You’re just a foolish girl who thinks the world owes her something. But let me tell you nobody wants your help. Nobody needs you.”

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes, but she swallowed them down. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like this especially by someone she tried so hard to care for. But the woman wasn’t done.

“You’re just another spoiled kid with your bright eyes and soft heart, thinking you can save everyone but yourself,” the woman sneered. “Maybe if you spent less time interfering and more time minding your own business, you’d get somewhere in life.”

The crowd around them grew uneasy. A few people glanced over, but no one stepped forward to stop the verbal attack.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she clutched the wallet tighter. Her throat felt dry, and a quiet ache settled deep in her chest. She had never wanted anything more than to be kind, to make a small difference in someone’s day, but here she was facing sharp words and cold rejection.

“I... I just wanted to help,” she whispered, voice barely audible, fragile like a glass ready to shatter.

The woman sneered one last time and turned away, muttering curses under her breath as she shuffled off down the street.

Yn stood there for a moment, stunned and hollow. The weight of those words pressed on her like a stone, heavy and cruel. Yet, somewhere deep inside, the part of her that always saw the good the hope still flickered quietly.

She looked down at the wallet in her hands, still hers to return, and sighed softly.

Helping sometimes came with pain, but it never stopped being worth it.

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of the insult sinking deep inside her. “I only wanted to help,” she said again, voice breaking.

The woman turned abruptly and began to walk away, muttering curses under her breath, leaving Y/N standing alone with the wallet in her hands.

For a moment, Yn just stood there, numb. The bright sunshine felt too harsh, the crowd’s eyes too heavy. She looked down at the wallet and then out into the street, wondering why kindness so often felt like a burden.

One man in the crowd a middle-aged passerby shook his head sadly and muttered to his companion, “That poor girl. Just trying to do the right thing.”

A young woman nearby clenched her fists, clearly upset by the scene. “Some people just don’t deserve kindness,” she said softly, tears in her own eyes.

Y/N heard their whispers but felt distant from them, like she was underwater. The sting of the woman’s words echoed louder than any voice around her.

As she walked slowly away, the wallet still clutched in her hand, Y/N’s mind replayed every moment, every harsh word, every glance.

She remembered how much she had always believed that a small act of kindness could change someone’s day, even their life. But now she wondered if some hearts were too closed, too bruised to ever see the light she wanted to share.

Yet, beneath the ache, a quiet resolve began to bloom.

She would keep being kind.

She would keep trying.

Because maybe one day, someone else would need her and she hoped someone would be there for her, too.

With one last glance at the wallet, Y/N took a deep breath, wiped her tears away, and stepped forward into the afternoon sun.

The morning light seeped softly through the curtains as Yn sat curled up on the couch, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sweater. The memory of the old woman’s harsh words lingered like a storm cloud above her heart. She had only tried to help only tried to do what felt right yet all she’d gotten was anger and humiliation. Her cheeks still stung from the cruel insults, and her spirit felt bruised.

Woozi’s footsteps echoed softly through the apartment, and before she could say anything, he was kneeling beside her, his warm hand covering hers like a silent promise that she wasn’t alone. His eyes searched hers, calm and steady.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly, voice gentle but insistent.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, then exhaled slowly. “I just… I wanted to help. She dropped her wallet, and I tried to pick it up and give it back to her. But she looked at me like I was a thief. She yelled, insulted me… said things I never thought someone would say.”

Woozi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a soothing hug.

“Sometimes,” he murmured, “people lash out not because of who you are, but because of their own fears and pain. That doesn’t make it okay, but it doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

Yn closed her eyes against the sting of tears. “But what if I’m just… too kind for this world? What if my kindness just invites trouble?”

He smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Your kindness is your strength, even when it feels like a burden. And I’m here, always, to keep you safe from the trouble that comes your way.”

She leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the unspoken promise in his presence. “I don’t want to stop being kind, even if it hurts sometimes.”

“You won’t have to,” he said, voice full of conviction. “Because I’ll be by your side your protector, your partner. No matter what storms come, we’ll face them together.”

For a long moment, silence wrapped around them, comforting and warm. Y/N let the tears fall freely now, the weight in her chest easing just a little.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead, soft and tender. “Always.”

Later that afternoon, the sunlight poured through the kitchen window as Woozi stood behind Y/N, his arms wrapped gently around her waist. She was focused on chopping vegetables for dinner, humming a soft tune, but his presence made her smile without looking.

“You know,” Woozi whispered, brushing his lips against her temple, “you’re probably the only person I know who gets into trouble just by being nice.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing up at him with sparkling eyes. “Well, trouble seems to follow me like a shadow.”

He tightened his hold, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck. “Maybe that’s because the world doesn’t deserve someone as kind as you.”

“Or maybe I’m just too much of a softie,” she teased, pretending to be annoyed.

“Softie or not, I’m lucky to have you,” Woozi murmured, his voice thick with affection. “Let’s make tonight a promise no trouble, just us.”

Y/N nodded, leaning back into him. “Deal.”

They cooked together in perfect harmony her chopping and his stirring, occasional laughter bubbling up as they playfully bumped into each other. The kitchen filled with warmth and the scent of home.

Later, seated at the table, their hands found each other’s across the surface. In that quiet moment, no harsh words or accusations could reach them. There was only love steady, comforting, and true.

The next morning, the gentle hum of the city seeped through the slightly cracked window as sunlight draped the room in a soft glow. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a worn-out book while Woozi brewed their morning tea in the kitchen. The faint clink of the teapot on the stove was a comforting background to their quiet start.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Woozi said as he brought over two steaming cups, settling beside her.

Y/N glanced up, her eyes shimmering with a mix of amusement and something tender. “Just thinking. You know, after everything that happened yesterday…I’m glad you’re here.”

Woozi smiled softly, his hand finding hers. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not while I’m around.”

Yn squeezed his hand, feeling that familiar warmth wash over her. “You’re always so protective.”

“I’m just being honest. You’re too precious to me.”

Her cheeks flushed as she shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t say it enough, but thank you for sticking by me.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

Later that day, they decided to take a stroll in the park, wanting nothing more than simple moments away from the crowded chaos of everyday life. Y/N’s hand nestled perfectly in Woozi’s as they walked beneath towering trees, the leaves rustling softly with the breeze.

“Remember when you first told me you liked me?” Y/N asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Woozi chuckled quietly. “I was such a nervous mess. Could barely look at you.”

“Yeah, I remember. You kept hiding behind your notebook.”

He laughed at the memory, eyes sparkling. “Well, I still get a little shy around you.”

Y/N stopped walking and tugged him gently until he faced her. “You don’t have to be shy. I like you just the way you are.”

His smile deepened, and before she could blink, Woozi’s hands cupped her face. “I love you.”

Her heart skipped. “I love you too.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in the world they had built a world where kindness could exist alongside imperfections, where love was patient and steadfast.

One evening, while cooking dinner, Y/N accidentally knocked over a jar of spices, the pungent scent filling the kitchen. Frustrated, she sighed and started cleaning it up, but Woozi wasn’t having any of it.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, setting down the cutting board and coming over to wrap his arms around her waist from behind. “It’s just a little spill.”

Yn leaned back into him, letting out a shaky laugh. “I’m just so clumsy sometimes.”

“Not clumsy,” he said, turning her gently to face him. “Perfectly human. And perfectly mine.”

She smiled, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. “You make me feel like I’m enough.”

“That’s because you are.”

Days like these were the quiet anchors in their lives small moments stitched together to remind them both of what really mattered. The world could throw all the trouble and misunderstandings it wanted, but here, in each other’s arms, they found peace.

The room was dim, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Yn lay curled up under the blanket, her mind swirling with worry and exhaustion from the day’s events. Woozi watched her quietly, his heart aching to see her so tired yet still pushing herself nonstop.

He reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Y/N,” he whispered softly, his voice a balm in the stillness.

She blinked up at him, eyes heavy but attentive.

“Please,” he said, his hand brushing over her cheek with the lightest touch. “Put yourself first…Please?”

Yn opened her mouth to protest, but Woozi silenced her with a tender kiss slow and sweet, a promise more than just words. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close until their bodies fit perfectly together.

“You don’t always have to carry the world,” he murmured against her hair. “Let me carry you for a while.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with tears she refused to shed. She nodded, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Goodnight, my love,” Woozi whispered.

Goodnight,” she breathed, feeling safe and cherished, ready to let go if only for a moment.

And with that, they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s warmth, the quiet hum of their love filling the night.

[fatgirlwritesscenarios]

Best Boyfriend to the Rescue

((A/N: Periods suck. Thank you.))

Pairing: JihoonxReader 

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,531

Summary: There are women whose period lasts only 2-3 days; whose cramps are simply minor inconveniences; whose whole world doesn’t grind to a halt simply because their uterine wall is shedding itself and you know what? Lucky them! But...you are the only woman with a boyfriend like Jihoon and that makes your periods just a little more bearable. 

                                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*

This was it. This was the end for you. This was how you were going to die: curled up on the hard cold floor, crushed by a mountain of blankets, some late afternoon drama playing in the background and you suffering from woman’s monthly punishment from God. Your period always put you in a catatonic state, your body numb and exhausted just from dealing with itself and all energy zapped from your being. The only things you felt in your zombie state were your cramps. Evil, sharp, unrelenting and uncaring, your cramps put you out of commission for a full two days. Your only stroke of ‘luck’ was that your period always came on a weekend, giving you those two days to recover.

So that’s how you were spending your Saturday, suffering for the good a child you may or may not have one day in the future. Your phone sang every now and then with text messages from your friends asking if you were alright. There was even one from your boyfriend, Jihoon, that you hadn’t replied to yet. 20% because you didn’t want to bother him with your woes and 80% because you just didn’t have the strength anymore. That was, what…4…maybe 5 hours ago? Sounds about right. You had been drifting in and out of consciousness during that time, knowing back as many painkillers as you could without killing yourself and overall just being miserable.

You had falling into a restless sort of sleep with your eyes trained blankly on the TV, watching the last 20 minutes of some drama, and when you came to, a variety show was on…and someone’s arm was around your waist. Any other time, you would have raised hell because who the hell?! Today? You hoped they would kill you so the pain would go away indefinitely.

“Are you awake now, Jagi?” Careful fingers carded through your hair and warm breath ghosted past your ear.

‘Jihoon?’ you thought absently, rolling back and turning your head up.

That was Jihoon alright, head propped up on his fist and just as crushed under the blankets as you were. How he got in there without waking you up, you’ll never know.

“I texted you,” he stated, trying to sound agitated, but giving himself away when his dimples made an appearance as you reached up to poke his cheek.

“I know,” you mumbled.

“I sent you several texts.”

“…You did?”

He nodded, “How come you didn’t text me back? I was worried.”

The groaning whine you released was all the answer you could give, shaking your head for good measure. Why did he think it was a good idea to ask a question that required strength to answer? Jihoon laughed his adorable laugh and tightened his hold around you.

“I know, I know,” he teased, nuzzling into your hair, “You don’t have the energy today.” He pulled back to study you, his eyes roaming your face as a smirk found its’ way to his lips. “You do look like crap.”

You glared and he cackled. “What? D.K. said the best remedy for pain is jokes and laughter!” You were going to remember that for when you felt better.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily, feeling around for your phone.

Jihoon reached over to grab it for you, placing it in your hands, “Almost 8 PM. So dinner time.”

You were surprised and looked back at him again, “You’re home early…”

“Mmhm,” he verified, idly stroking your cheek with his thumb, “After the 5th text with no reply, I tried calling your friend to see if they heard from you. They told me you were on your period and at home, so I finished up what work absolutely needed to be done and came straight home to take care of you.”

Why, you could just cry!...Oh wait, you were. Jihoon became a bit alarmed when your eyes filled with tears faster than a shot glass filled with water under the tap.

“Yah, why are you crying?” he asked, catching the streak of tears on his fingers.

It was going to take too much energy to explain your menstrual mood swings, so you opted instead to turn fully around and wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Jihoon went still for a brief moment and then embraced you back. A smile took his face and a chuckle echoed in his chest.

“Aish, you’re so clingy,” he teased, pausing when you suddenly whimpered and fisted his shirt, “Jagi?”

You whimpered again, the sound filled with pain. Your body tense and your legs shuffling uncomfortably, you regretted moving from your original spot. A miniscule monster with razor sharp teeth and an affinity for pain started tearing at your abdomen. Jihoon cradled you, stroking your back and helping you ride it out. He pressed his lips to your crown repeatedly, whispering comforting words until the pain subsided and you could breathe at last.

“That was intense,” he observed, brushing your hair off of your hot skin, “It can’t be comfortable to be on the floor like this and going through that. Come on, Jagi, let’s move you to the bed.”

You thought to protest- you didn’t feel like walking- but Jihoon surprised the hell out of you by picking you up, blankets and all, and carried you to the bedroom. You were pretty sure you were dead weight at this point, so when did he get that strong!? When you were settled on the soft mattress, he sat beside you, gazing at you steadily.

“Have you eaten?” He frowned when you shook your head, “Y/N, you can’t starve yourself. Doesn’t that make the cramps worse?”

“Don’t yell at me.”

He scoffed and laughed a little bit- he hadn’t been yelling and you knew it, hence your exaggerated pout, “Where’s your heating pad?”

“It broke.”

“What do you mean ‘it broke’?”

“It stopped working today. It won’t heat up anymore.”

“Today is definitely not your day.” He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. You looked so tired and Jihoon hated seeing you like this, but he also knew how much you hated seeing him worried over you.

“Wait here. I’m going to make you something to eat.” He pecked your lips and made to leave, glancing back just once before disappearing.

You remained in place, rocking back and forth, focusing on blocking the pain out. How many years had passed since Jihoon left you to suffer like this? How dare he come riding in on a white horse to comfort you only to abandon you so soon afterwards with little more than a quick kiss? Okay…Okay, maybe you were exaggerating. It probably wasn’t that long at all. The cramps only made it feel like a millennium.

You vaguely heard shuffling and the muffled clink on the nightstand next to you. You peeked out from your cocoon, grinning eyes greeting you before you were coaxed to sit up.

“Look what I got.” He held up a brand new heating pad…So wait, he actually left?! “I ran down to the store two blocks from here. Literally ran. I hope you know how much I love you.”

He set you up comfortably against the headboard, plugging in the heating pad and placing it gently against your stomach to let the magic work. You whined when another wave of cramps assaulted you, Jihoon giving you some pain-killers and a cup of hot tea to chase them down.

“My favorite tea,” you mused quietly as you took a sip, Jihoon nodding proudly.

“And your favorite soup,” he added, gesturing to the bowl of steaming goodness waiting for your attention, “Make sure to eat it while it’s still hot. The heat will help.”

You giggled, tilting your head back when he leaned down to steal another tender kiss, “Thank you.”

He hummed, his forehead resting against yours and those lovable dimples on display, “Of course, Jagi. Anything for you.”

Soon enough, the two of you were cuddled up under your blankets, your empty bowl and tea mug stacked on the night stand. Jihoon had his arm around you, stroking your arm and shoulder as you rested your head on his shoulder. His laptop lay open between you, playing some move you couldn’t be bothered to recall the name of. You were too warm, too happy, to care much about the title, your cramps all but disappearing thanks to your wonderful boyfriend’s care.

You felt pinpricks every now and then, but as if he too felt your pain, Jihoon would reach his hand over to stroke your stomach over the heating pad.

“Feel better soon, Jagi. I don’t like it when you’re in pain,” his voice said worriedly.

“I already feel better, Jihoonie,” you mumbled, eyes closing drowsily, “I still feel tired, though.”

“Then sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” A kiss brushed the top of your head and then Jihoon was softly singing, a lullaby just for you.

You smiled tiredly, his voice sounding farther away with each passing note until you succumbed to your exhaustion and drifted into peaceful slumber. Finally.

“I love you, Y/N. Get better soon.”

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Chapter 1 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff (later? maybe?)

Chapter: ONE | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | end | epilogue |

Word Count: 2.2k

Note: This is my first fic on tumblr as an attempt to be a more active user (I usually just read and send anonymous rant on how i love other people’s writings, hehe) I am not a medical student, but I did some tiny research, so… Alright, hope you enjoy.

–

“Hello, what is it?” Jihoon snaps into his phone. He was jotting down possible lyrics to the very lacking melody he created yesterday when his phone rang for the third time. He grabbed his phone aggressively and sighed. It was Y/n, his wife of eight years. Last night scene was replaying in his mind, getting him more agitated by the second as the continuous ringing robbed him of his ideas.

“Hey, I was wondering. Could you pick up Jaemin and Jimin from school?” Hearing your timid voice, he sighs once again, trying to control his irritation.

“Y/n. I am at work now.”

“I know. But since you use my car, I can’t go. School’s over in twenty-five.”

“Shit,” He mutters under his breath. You are right. His car broke down since a couple of days ago, and it seems to rather enjoy its stay at the repair shop. And you have let him used yours since the only places you frequent are the school and the grocery shop.

He sighs, again.

When he borrowed the car last weekends, it hadn’t occurred to him that he would need to send or pick his kids up from school. He realized it only this morning. This morning he went to work later than intended since he had to do the former task. But it’s not much of a problem because the school is in the same direction as the company’s building. And the boys were beyond delighted. As wonderful it feels to see their gleaming faces when they see him, he can’t go.

He really can’t leave his job; he needs at least five demos by the weekend. It’s been a week since he’s given the task, but so far he has two. And his mind definitely won’t cooperate after your fight last night. It is stuck repeating your arguments instead of generating beautiful lyrics as it usually does. He didn’t even remember what the fight was about. Maybe it was him staying up late in the studio for days. Or maybe it was him apparently neglecting his family’s needs, which he thought as ridiculous. It doesn’t matter. He is always at the wrong, and that is why he was mad out of his mind.

He is still mad out of his mind.

That is why throughout this conversation you keep your voice small. You are afraid to tick him off. You are afraid he would choose not to go home, again, letting out his frustration towards working and staying up all night in his studio.  That is why, when he didn’t say anything after his expletive, you offer, “If- if you’re busy, I think I can take the cab. That would be okay, I guess. Sorry to interrupt.” And with that, you end the call.

You take a long breath as you look at the watch on your wrist. After you dialed for a cab, you call your youngest son’s teacher to inform her that you’re probably going to be late. It would take you ten to fifteen minutes if you drive yourself, but just in case the cab is taking too long, you told Jimin’s teacher anyway.

Jaemin is seven years old, and Jimin is five. Both of them were newly admitted to their respective school this year. The kindergarten and the elementary school are from the same institution, therefore, they’re located next to each other. You were worried because they would have a different schedule, but you’ve managed pretty well. Usually, you will be at school at least ten minutes before the kindergarten’s bell rings, and you and Jimin will wait for Jaemin together.

Through the call, you told Jimin’s teacher, Mrs. Seo, who was also Jaemin’s teacher when he was in kindergarten, to accompany Jimin until you arrive. She agrees, and she even volunteers to tell Jaemin’s homeroom teacher that Jaemin can wait for you in the kindergarten with her and his brother, that way he won’t be confused as to why he can’t find you waiting in the parking lot.

The cab is quick to arrive at your house, almost but not quite five minutes. And the traffic is also good since it’s not lunch time yet. One or two cars drive above the speed limit, but you pay no heed to that, rather conversing about your sons with the driver. That’s it until a loud honk suddenly cut into your storytelling. It is followed with a screech, a crash, an excruciating scratch of iron and asphalt, two other or three thumps, and then silence.

Jihoon has his head on his palms, his headphone hanging around his neck. He is frustrated because he couldn’t get anything done for almost two hours. He is so ready to throw everything that is on his desk right now but decides to go take something out of the vending machine. He’s about to open the door when it is burst open, revealing the red face of one of his members, Seungkwan.

“Hyung! Why don’t you pick up your phone?” He half yells, his head fuming.

“It’s on silence. What’s so important?”

“The school tried to call you, but there’s no response. So they called me. They were asking about Y/n. They said Y/n told Mrs. Seo that she’s gonna be late but they’ve been waiting for like an hour, she didn’t show up.”

Seungkwan’s daughter, Sunye, is a year older than Jimin, she is in the same kindergarten as him. Knowing that Seungkwan is related to both of you, Mrs. Seo probably checked in with Sunye’s teacher and told her about the waiting situation that occurred.

“Shit! I shouldn’t have put my phone on silence. Sorry. She told me she was gonna take a cab to pick them up. Where are they now?” Jihoon says, walking back to look for his phone under all the scattered papers on his desk.

“It’s okay. They’re at my house. Did you get a message from Y/n?”

Jihoon frowns when he sees his notifications. “No, but I had a few missed calls from an unknown number.”

“Maybe that’s the cab. Maybe the car broke down or something.”

“Shh, I’m calling them.”

The person picks up on the second ring and with a relieved sigh, “Thank goodness, Mr. Lee, we’ve been trying to reach you. You’re the only emergency contact of Mrs. Lee.”

“Wha- Emergency contact, what?”

The lines between Jihoon’s eyebrows are getting deeper while Seungkwan grows one of his own, looking and mouthing his curiosity of what’s happening to the older man.

Jihoon holds his forefinger out to Seungkwan and asks to his phone, “Who is this?”

“This is Seoul National University Hospital. Your wife has been admitted to the ER about an hour ago due to a car accident.”

As soon as Jihoon heard the word accident, he immediately hangs up the phone. He doesn’t need to hear more. The gears in his head are not moving quickly enough for him to remember where he has placed his car key. “Key, key, key, where the fuck is my car key?! Fuck!”

Jihoon finally goes with his initial plan of throwing away everything that is on his desk while Seungkwan is just standing in the doorway, utterly bewildered. “Hyung, what happened?”

He ignores the other man and when at last he found what he’s searching for, he shouts, “Move. I said move!” He shoves Seungkwan out of his way and runs to the garage, the younger one following close behind, starting to understand the urgency.

“Hyung, did something happen to her? Hyung, where are you going?”

“The fuck, Seungkwan. Can you fucking shut up for once?” Jihoon replies once both of them are inside the elevator. He punches the button like a mad man while muttering a few more expletives.

“You can’t drive in this state. Give me your key.” Seungkwan says, extending his hand, palm up. He knows there is no controlling Jihoon, yet he tries to sound strict and not to cower in fear because of his bandmate’s lash out.

“The fuck? She’s in the ER, do you hear me? Fuck! Why is this elevator so fucking slow?!” He punches the elevator door a few times until it dings and shows the basement of the building.

“Hyung! Give me the key! I’ll drive.”

Seungkwan kept on thanking the God above until he arrived at the hospital for the traffic was not too bad, lest his ears would’ve been burned from the ever-flowing river of curses that is Jihoon’s mouth. They are stuck in another slow elevator, with Jihoon pounding on its door, again. Seungkwan has a hard time staying calm. He is worried beyond anything. He is worried about you, his best friend. And he is worried about Jihoon. He never saw him like this, ever. And he is scared, not for himself, but for Jihoon.

When the elevator finally lets them out, Jihoon runs to the receptionist’s desk, Seungkwan catching up behind him. Jihoon starts talking a million words an hour, and the receptionist, the person who was on the call with him, only says that you’re still in the ER with the doctor’s team. He walks towards the ER with ragged breath while Seungkwan stays behind to ask a few more questions. He found out that the other man was dead on the way to the ER, and the cab driver suffers from a few major and some minor injuries; he didn’t get everything she said but she mentioned about partial airbags malfunctioning or something. The receptionist told him about the police, too. They might want to speak with Jihoon. But as he tears himself away from the receptionist’s desk to follow where Jihoon went, he knows that there’s no way that will happen any time soon.

“Hyung,” He calls for Jihoon ever so softly. The older man is slumped down near the ER doors, his whole body visibly trembling and his teeth chattering as if he is cold to the bone.

He sobs, “It’s my fault. I- I was too caught up. I- She- Seungkwan, she-“

By the time he heard Jihoon said his name, Seungkwan’s already crouching by his side, holding him by the shoulders. “Shh, no, it’s not your fault. Shh.”

“But it is!” He shouts, earning a few glances from the people nearby. “It is my fault! I fucking used her car, but I made her pick up the kids anyway. I was selfish. I was petty. I was fucking useless!” His eyes are bloodshot, and it costs Seungkwan everything to hold Jihoon still in his arms.

“Hyung! Calm down.”

“How can I fucking calm down, Seungkwan? Tell me how, when the doctor- no, the doctor’s team was still in there even after an hour of being admitted. Tell me how, when the last thing I did to her was curse! I cursed! You know the last thing I said on our phone call just a few hours ago? Shit! Shit! That was it. That could be the last thing she heard from me, Seungkwan, I- I am the worst. I didn’t deserve her.”

“No, hyung-“ Seungkwan was going to rebut his friend’s words when the doors to the ER open and a doctor calls Jihoon’s name.

“Mr. Lee,” He begins, standing in front of Jihoon who tries to peek inside the room instead of making eye contact with the doctor as he rises to his feet. “We just finished with a few diagnostic tests to identify the injuries. We are going to tend to her head injury first and then her fractured left shoulder and arm.”

“How bad is the head injury? How long after the surgery would she wake up?” Seungkwan pipes in when Jihoon only stays silent for a few seconds too long.

“I am afraid to say that the head injury is rather severe. It, will take some time for her to wake up.”

“What? What do you mean some time?” Jihoon asks unbelievingly, his voice is low and chilling. Jihoon is the receding seawater before a tsunami. And Seungkwan feels the calm water washes over his back, sending shivers down his spine.

“It could be days or weeks. It could also be months. I am saying that you cannot predict a head injury.”

And the first wave strikes.

“How can you not?! It’s your job! It’s your fucking job!”

Seungkwan almost loses his grips around Jihoon, and he really doesn’t want to worsen the worse by asking, but he shoots the question nonetheless, “Are you saying that she’s in a coma?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Jihoon shrieks and launches himself at the doctor, catching the attention of the security who is talking with the receptionist. “Hyung! Calm. Down. Hyung!” Seungkwan is struggling to restrain Jihoon from attacking the doctor until the security comes to his aid.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Lee. We will try as hard as we can.” The doctor is silent for a moment before he continues, “There’s something else that I need to tell you. Due to the damage to her brain, when she wakes up, she might temporarily not remember a few things. We are very sorry, Mr. Lee.” With this, the doctor nods sympathetically and leaves.

Those words are arrows aiming at every cell of his body. And as Jihoon recalls the memory of you from last night, crying, he surrenders to gravity and along with a whimper, he collapses into the earthquake of his own making.

–

Thank you for reading~

Every chapter will be around 2K (I think), so I don’t know how long this series gonna be. But, we’ll see. Teehee.

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Chapter 10 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff

Chapter: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | END | epilogue |

Word Count: 4.4 K

Recommended Song: SHAUN - Way Back Home (feat. Conor Maynard) [Sam Feldt Edit]

A/N: I hope this is a satisfactory conclusion to the series. Well, not really, since there’s still the epilogue, but I don’t want to raise expectations, so… Sorry if this is somehow disappointing.

–

Call Soon Hyung. You’re welcome.

That is the content of Seungkwan’s latest message for Jihoon. There were four missed calls and three messages preceding it, but Jihoon didn’t know any of these until he’s about to leave his car.          

Hyung, you guys still asleep? I’m outside.

Nobody’s home? Answer my call, hyung.

You in the studio? I’m going there right now.

Jihoon has no ideas as to why Seungkwan was searching adamantly for him like that, and he also doesn’t understand why he needs to call Soonyoung. He was about to do exactly as Seungkwan instructed, but you knock on his window, interrupting him before he can press the call button. “Ji? Let’s go.”

“Oh, okay. Wait a sec.” As he releases his seatbelt, Jihoon quickly types a short message for Soonyoung with one hand, asking what’s going on with Seungkwan.

“What is it?” you ask once Jihoon’s out from the car.

“Uh?”

“Are you needed in the company?”

“No. No. Just… Seungkwan. He visited when we’re on our way here and then he told me to call Soonyoung. I was just sending a short text for him.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go then.” You grab Jihoon’s hand and lead the way to the elevator. Both of you are currently in Jihoon’s old apartment building. After having the conversation about your children, Jihoon suggested that you two take turns showering right away so that you can catch a quick brunch at a random restaurant you passed along the way before you pick your children up.

It was indeed a quick brunch. There’s not much in your conversation, but it left both of you in such a pleasant mood. Even now in the elevator, Jihoon’s hand is still snug in yours, drawing a permanent smile on his lips. The ding of the elevator breaks into Jihoon’s thought. He silently curses at the intrusion because the moment the elevator opens, you hurried out to search for Jihoon’s door, forgetting the poor man behind with his unattended hand.

When Jihoon arrives at your side, there’s already a click in the door, a sign that it’s only a matter of seconds before you both meet your sons again. The moment that Jihoon’s mom opens the door for the both of you, Jaemin shouts from behind her and jumps to your side, followed by Jimin, who’s running with all his might and only stopping once he’s able to hug your feet.

“Mommy! Daddy! Are we going home? Are we going home?” Jimin bubbles, jumping up and down with his hands raised above his head as to ask you to lift him up.

You kneel down instead, that way you can look at the two boys from the same level. “Let’s go inside first, okay?”

As soon as Jihoon gets to the living room, his phone rings with Soonyoung’s name displayed on the bright screen. “Excuse me, it’s Soonyoung,” he says to you who’s being dragged by Jaemin and Jimin to their room and his mom who’s following them.

“Hey, Jihoon. Where are you? We need to meet.”

“Hey, uh, I’m picking up the kids. Just arrived. What’s it about? Is this something serious?” Jihoon walks away from the living room to the kitchen, settling himself on one of the chairs near the counter.

First, your car. And second, I got your rings, well, Y/n’s.”

“The rings that she threw away last night?”

“She threw them away?”

“That’s… not the point. Ugh, God,” Jihoon grunts, placing one hand on the counter and resting his head on top of it.

“Jihoon? What happens?”

Jihoon turn his head a little to peek at the children room for you before he answers in something closer to a whisper, “What am I supposed to do with them?”

“What? Give them back to Y/n, of course. What else?”

“Yeah, hey, Y/n, here are the rings that you threw away last night because I suck as a husband. You still want them, right? No? Oh, great. It’s okay. I’m okay. Take—“

Soonyoung chuckles at Jihoon’s constant rambling. Despite the younger man’s effort to play down the situation, he knows that the anxiety is real. “It’s okay, Jihoon. You’ve been forgiven already, right?”

“Not really. Still on my way there. That’s why I can’t just come to her and give the rings. I don’t want to remind her of her meltdown last night—or more like the reason of her meltdown last night.”

“Jihoon,” Soonyoung starts as he exhales, “It’s okay.”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay then, would you prefer I give the rings directly to her? Or maybe put the rings on her finger myself?”

“Ya! Kwon Soonyoung!” Jihoon exclaims rather loudly that he snaps his head around to see whether it’s caught anyone’s attention. “Don’t you dare,” he stresses every syllable of his words, but the other man only laughs, clearly delighted at how easily he can rile Jihoon.

“Just kidding. You can do something like a re-proposal, I don’t know. I mean- God, I’m brilliant! Yes! Do that! Redo the proposal in that fancy restaurant. Maybe it can trigger her memory. I can gather the boys real quick. Wait- No! Crap! Seungkwan has a schedule today, I don’t know about tomorrow, but—“

“Soonyoung,” Jihoon interrupts, “I… I don’t want to go that strong. I just want to take it slow and not overwhelm her. Also, if I redo the proposal—God damn it, that’s gonna be our third proposal—what about the wedding? I… I want something simple, with only the both of us, or… I don’t know…”

“Hmm… I’ll think of something. Let’s meet tomorrow, okay? And don’t let her know about it. I got to go. Bye!”

The call ends even before Jihoon has the chance to express anything, not his sorry nor his gratitude.

“Jihoon,” his mom calls and motions for him to go sit with her on the couch. “I’m sorry, but I heard a little bit of your conversation on the phone. Would you tell me what happened between you and Y/n?” Once Jihoon reaches the living room, Mrs. Lee places his hand on his shoulder as to guide him down to the couch.

Jihoon gives the children room another quick look to make sure that you’re still too occupied to hear him. His mom who notices this speaks up once again, “She’s still packing their clothes.”

“She… had flashbacks about our fight, the day before my enlistment, and the wedding. And, um, I think everything confused her, and I wasn’t there to sort things out for her. I guess she felt lonely. No, she must have felt a lot of things. Hurt, betrayal. She went through everything alone and last night- I guess last night was her breaking point. She let everything out and even threw our engagement and wedding rings. But- But we talked. In the morning. She hasn’t exactly forgiven me, but at least she gave me a chance.”

The hand that was on Jihoon’s shoulder moves downward and rests on his thigh, patting it empathetically and encouragingly. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay. As long as you stay by her side.”

“Yes, Mom, but I don’t know what to do about the rings. Soonyoung has—Oh! When are you planning to go back to Busan?” Jihoon widens his eyes and swiftly changes the conversation when you walk out of the room with two bags on your hands and two boys on your tail.

Mrs. Lee catches on her son’s intention and follows along, “Oh, I don’t know well. You two came here in short notice, so I haven’t planned anything.”

“You can go stay with us for as long as you want,” you chime in as you place the two bags down. Jihoon grunts inwardly at this, not because of the suggestion you made but because of the action you just did—or more like he didn’t do. He should’ve helped you with the bags, but that thought didn’t even cross his mind as he’s distracted, trying to hide his previous conversation.

“That would be great, but I can only stay for so long, dear.”

“Ah, okay, then. Do you want me to help you pack now?”

“No, don’t bother. I can do it myself.”

“Alright. I’ll just prepare dinner instead. And you two stay here, okay? You play with them, alright?” you say, turning from Jihoon’s mom to the children and lastly to Jihoon before disappearing to the kitchen.

           Dinner comes and goes and so does the fifteen-minute drive to your house. Jihoon helps his mom settle in the guest room while you do the same to the kids in theirs. Obviously, your task takes longer than his, for when he passes the slightly-opened door he can see the two boys still huddled on your side in one bed. You have a book on your hands, but Jihoon can’t figure out what the title is from where he’s standing. He takes careful steps inside and squeezes himself next to Jaemin on your left, leaving the boy in a giggle fit.

“Daddy! The bed won’t fit us all!” Jimin argues from his position next to the wall.

You laugh because instead of moving to the other bed—Jaemin’s—Jihoon only squeezes them further, earning him another protest from Jimin who’s now pressed to the wall. “Dad!”

“Okay, okay”—Jihoon stands and raises his arms up in resignation—“You just don’t love Daddy anymore. It’s okay,” he says as he fakes crying, clutching his chest and throwing himself on Jaemin’s bed.

“Daddy!” Jaemin squeals, jumping from Jimin’s bed to the floor and then to his own bed. He climbs on Jihoon’s body and shakes his shoulder when he doesn’t give an immediate response.

“What? Just go to your Mommy and leaves Daddy alone.”

Jihoon’s words fluster his oldest son that he turns to his brother for help. “Jimin! Come here! This is your doing.”

“Ugh, Daddy! Get up!” he orders petulantly as he crawls around you and makes the same little jumps as his brother did before. “Get up. Don’t be like a little boy.”

Jihoon turns around and catches Jaemin as he falls down from his body, not bothering to keep his act anymore. “What? Who calls Daddy a little boy?”

The two boys laugh and look at each other before they chorus, “Grandma!”

“Grandma said you cried and didn’t eat or shower like a little kid when Mommy’s in the hospital,” Jaemin explains.

You raise your head at this, trying to meet Jihoon’s gaze. They do meet for a split second before Jihoon tackles down the two boys and attacks them with tickles. The laughter of the three of them is overpowering the still hours but do not tamper with the comfort that it provides this particular night. A fond smile paints your lips. Looking at Jihoon like this, you understand how you’d agree to bear any and every heartbreak as long as you could stay a little longer by his side.

When their laughter dies down and the boys curl up in Jihoon’s arm, you rise to bid them goodnight. You lean forward to kiss their forehead, but Jimin stops you. “One more story, please? Let Daddy read.”

You look at Jihoon, and he extends his hand to take the book from you. When he has sat down and had the book on his hand, he clicks his tongue, “Why do you guys still read stories with the Big Bad Wolf in them when it scares you?”

“Jimin does, I don’t!”  

“No, I don’t!”

“Alright, alright, we can replace them with new books tomorrow. The Big Bad Wolf is no more! How’s that sound? Great?”

“Great!” they answer in unison.

After each of you kisses the kids’ foreheads goodnight at the end of the bedtime story, you go directly to your room to take a shower while Jihoon stays in the living room to make a call. The first try rings for a long time before going to voicemail, but the second time’s connected after only the first ring.

“Hey, I’m sorry. We were at practice,” Soonyoung says, referring to the new group he choreographs for.

“No problem. Have you thought of something yet?”

“Actually, I do. Let’s talk about this over breakfast tomorrow. I need to get right back to the practice. Is it okay?”

“Sure. The usual place at eight?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, thank you.”

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of alarm you don’t remember setting and find the bed empty.  You’re slightly disappointed to find that Jihoon has left, but then you heard a clanking sound—from where you assume as the kitchen—and suddenly you get more than a little excited. When you get to the kitchen, the first thing you see is a pancake served on the dining table and a piece of yellow paper next to the plate. Just as you pick the letter up, a voice makes you jump in a start.

“I told him I can just tell you about it, but he insisted on writing a note for you instead.”

“Ah, Mom, good morning.”

Mrs. Lee nods in acknowledgment and smiles because you didn’t call her ‘Mrs. Lee’ again like you did in the middle of your ride home last night. “I’m going to freshen up a little bit while you enjoy your breakfast. Jihoon made that, so it might be cold now. And, um, sorry for the noise earlier. I was trying to place the water pot in the cabinet, but it fell down.”

“No worries. You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Okay, then. I’ll leave you to it,” Mrs. Lee says as he passes you and nods towards the letter.

It says that Jihoon is out with the two boys to buy books because they’re too eager to wait a little longer. While this is actually true, Jihoon with the boys don’t go directly to the bookstore, instead they have breakfast with Soonyoung first. The children are busy with their pancakes, having craving to eat one after Jihoon denied their request at home and made only one mix for you, while Jihoon is talking with Soonyoung in a hushed voice despite the pretty slow restaurant.

“Redo-proposal, at the Hill,” Soonyoung smirks, the pride from his idea flowing out with his words as he shoves a wooden ring box to Jihoon.

The younger man opens the unfamiliar box to find the two rings that seem to have been gone from your finger for too long. “But,” Jihoon starts, “She hasn’t said anything about the rings. What if- What if she doesn’t want them. At least, not yet. I told you we’re taking this really slowly.”

Soonyoung answers him with a sigh. “Wasn’t this the kind of attitude that distanced you from her after the accident?”

“I- I know, but—“

“No buts. Just ask her to meet you at the Hill to search for the rings together. That will make kneeling down such a reasonable thing to do. And then the rest is up to you. Tell her about your feeling and everything else you have to say. This is your chance, Jihoon.”

Jihoon considers Soonyoung’s words for a few moments while playing with his own wedding band. It is hurt to feel or see your bare finger whenever he does. “Alright, this is my chance,” he repeats in resolution.

“Daddy?” asks Jimin.

“Uh, what’s up, buddy?”

“When will we buy new books? We’re done eating.”

It’s true. The two boys’ plates are now empty; they have eaten all their food diligently. But this, in addition to Jimin’s words earlier, only reminds him of his original plan with the boys. “Wait a little more, okay? We’ll go right after this. I need to take them to the bookstore,” he says, turning to Soonyoung at the end of his sentence. “And, uh, I use Y/n’s car. There’s no way I’m gonna ask her to take a cab to meet me at the Hill.”

“Well, you can send the boys home after your shopping and pick her up and drive together to the Hill. I suggested you meet her there only because I think you’d need the time to prepare and rehearse on the location. It doesn’t have to be today. I can take your car back and you can both go with a separate car—wait, do you even comfortable letting her drive herself?”

“No, not really. And I think I can’t do this any other day. I- I might not have the courage.”

“Okay, then. Call her to get ready, or not. I’ll be the chauffeur—or rather, the head of your army—who is ready to send your queen your way, Your Majesty.”

“Shut up. You? The head of my army? Can’t Seungkwan do it instead?” Jihoon quips, half serious and half joking.

“What is this betrayal? Jihoon, I thought you trust me. Seungkwan’s not available, okay? That dude’s busy, that’s why he gave me the rings.”

Jihoon brushes Soonyoung’s comments off. “Alright, alright, whatever. Imma need to go.”

“Alright, good luck, mate.”

“Hm,” he acknowledges as he puts some money on the table and stands, gesturing the kids to do the same and greet Soonyoung goodbye. “Soonyoung. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Aye, Seungkwan found the rings. I only bought the box. He said he lost your ring once. The least he can do is find those ones and bring them back to you.”

Jihoon lets out a low chuckle, his heart warming at the thought of everything his members have done for him. “I’ll thank him later. But seriously, thank you. And, um, I’m sorry.”

Now it’s Soonyoung’s turn to chuckle, “No problem. I know the reason you get jealous easily when I’m with Y/n is that you love me. Too much, if I might add.”

“Seriously?” Jihoon deadpans, but turns to his kids as Jimin tugs at the hem of his shirt. “I got to go. Thank you again. I’ll text you once I’m at the Hill.”

The said message arrives about an hour after their meeting. It is a very succinct message with only one word, proceed. Soonyoung doesn’t have any particular plan on bringing you to the Hill, which is why he can only grin when you open the door with a faint frown on your forehead, clearly surprised to have him as an uninvited guest.

“Soonie? Jihoon’s not home. He—“

“I know. He texted me.” And then another brilliant idea pops into Soonyoung’s head. “He said he’s searching for your rings at the Hill.”

“What? No- no, he’s taking the kids to the bookstore. That’s what he told me.”

“Oh, crap! I’m sorry. Oh, God. He’s going to kill me.” Soonyoung pretends to be panicked and even go as far as turning around to walk back to Jihoon’s car. It takes you exactly two steps to finally take his bait.

“Wait! Don’t you dare move from that spot. I’ll just tell Mom that I need to go meet Jihoon, and then you need to take me to the Hill.”

“But, Y/n, I was just gonna drop his car. I have practice in half an hour.”

“Soonyoung, please? Just… Take me there, and you can go. Drop the car later or tomorrow.” The frown on your forehead deepens, but Soonyoung takes his time to consider his answer.

“Well, okay, I guess I can do that.”

“Mom! I’m going to go meet Jihoon! Soonyoung will drive me!” Apparently, you have a little doubt towards Soonyoung that instead of telling Mrs. Lee directly like you initially intended, you only duck your head inside and shout for her, to which she replies with another shout of okay, take care.

You close the door to your house and skip all the way to where Soonyoung parked the car. Once the car gears to life, though, your cheerful front has dropped altogether.

“Hey, Y/n, what’s wrong?” asks Soonyoung a few minutes into the ride.

“Why would he want to search for them alone?”

“Uh, I- I don’t kno—“

“I was the one who threw them out of spite.”

“Do you regret it, though?”

“Hm?” You turn your head towards Soonyoung at his question, and he meets your gaze through the rear-view mirror. “I… I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t have a solid thought about everything because I can’t remember, you know. But I know that what I did was cruel. Just throwing them out like that.”

“Well, maybe Jihoon knows that you’re confused. Maybe he doesn’t want to force them on you. I mean, would you wear the rings from an engagement or wedding you don’t remember being a part of?”

“Don’t say something like that,” you say sternly.

“Why? Would you, though?”

The answer is obvious. But when Soonyoung puts it like this, you can’t help but go over your thoughts and feelings once again. Your words come out as a mumble when you finally speak, “I don’t remember most of everything. But that sounds like an excuse the more I think or tell someone about it. I love him. That I know, so of course… Of course, I would wear them.”

Shooting you one last look, Soonyoung replies with a smirk, “All is good, then. We’re here.” He pulls to a stop near the walkway to the Hill. You look up from your lap and realize that you’ve indeed arrived at the location; the car that Jihoon drives—yours—is parked right in front of you. It turns out that alternating between the conversation you have with Soonyoung and the one in your head costs a long enough time. “Do you want me to walk you up?”

“No, no, it’s okay. Thank you very much.”

“Y/n,” Soonyoung says right before you close the car door on him. “Don’t be too hard on yourself—and him.”

You nod, “Thank you, really.”

And with that, Soonyoung reverses back and drives away from you.

The first thing that catches your attention is your two boys leaning on the Big Tree facing the walkway: Jaemin is muttering the words of the book on his hand and Jimin is iterating the act of stacking the rest of the new books and knocking them over. You quicken your pace with worry because Jihoon is nowhere to be seen.

The two boys stop what they’re doing and raise their head when your shadow falls in front of them. “Mommy!”

And as if on cue, Jihoon appears from the opposite side of the tree, muttering your name groggily, “Y/n.”

“Jihoon! I thought you’re not with them. I was worried!” you scold him as you walk, still with the same fast pace, towards where he stands.

“I’m sorry. Um, Y/n,” he repeats and then gets on one knee when you arrive in front of him. Gathering his courage, Jihoon stares at the ground while taking a few deep breaths, the bottom of his lips is caught between his teeth. When his erratic heartbeat loses its ultimate control over his auditory sense, Jihoon realizes that you’ve been calling his name for a few times now. He lets out another long breath before he looks up and stares into your bewildered eyes. “Y/n, I… I know I have not been fulfilling the promises I made in the past. Even if there’s a time that I did, somehow I just stopped without really knowing why. I know that I cannot give you any more promises for fear that I would just disappoint you again. But you’re giving me another chance yet again, and I- I am so thankful for it. I’m so thankful for you. Because I love you, and I want you to believe that I mean it. And I can’t- I can’t let you go, Y/n.

“So here I am, kneeling down in front of you, for the third time, asking for your hand again. And I hope that you’d deign to accept me again”—Jihoon takes out the wooden ring box and opens it, presenting the ring for you—“Y/n, I don’t think I have the right question to ask today. But would you let me—“

“Yes,” you begin, fresh tears already forming in your eyes. “Yes, Jihoon. Whatever that sentence entails, yes.”

Jihoon bites on his lips again to prevent him from smiling too widely. He reaches for your hand to slowly slip the ring to your finger, starting from the engagement ring. But before he can put the wedding band on your ring finger, you stop him. “Wait. I, um, there’s a condition. Explain to me why you, um, dragged the kids into this.”

“Oh, that.” Jihoon scratches the back of his neck, a big grin immediately taking over his face. He takes a few steps back to peek around the Big Tree for the children. Both of them are now busy stacking the books into a tower. Nevertheless, roses still manage to bloom on Jihoon’s cheek, realizing that the kids have possibly been listening to his cheesy confession. “This is kind of unplanned. Ugh, God, I’m so stupid. I should’ve asked Soonyoung to play with them or whatever, but I don’t want to make it look like—“

“Jihoon, stand up.”

“Huh?”

“Just… stand up.” You take his arms to help him get to his feet, but he doesn’t budge.

Panic starts crawling from the tip of Jihoon’s fingertips to the beating of his heart. He reaches for your hands again and holds them tightly. “But Y/n“—Jihoon stops himself from continuing his words when you walk closer to him and fall to both of your knees in front of him—“Y/n, what are you doing?”

A gentle smile spreads on your lips as you move your ring finger up and down a few times, signaling him to continue his previous action. “Do it.”

“What?”

“The ring. Before I change my mind.”

“No! Wait, no! I’ll do it.” Jihoon takes the wedding band again and carefully slides it into your ring finger, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jihoon begins as both of you walk back to where the car’s parked, your sons walking ahead of you hand in hand.

“What is it?”

“Thank you.” He nudges at you with his elbow. “And just so you know, you kneeling down up there, it’s happened before.”

“Me? I- I was the one who proposed?”

Jihoon’s crisp chuckles ring throughout the quiet hill. “Hmm, no. Not exactly.”

“Then what happened?” you urge.

“Well, let’s go home first, shall we? Because that, that is a story for another time, isn’t it?”

–

Taglist: @thatfangurltho @chwenchew @la-hermosaluna @heolykpop​

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Chapter 9 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff

Chapter: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | NINE | end | epilogue |

Word Count: 2.8 K

Recommended Song: Seventeen - Home (Chinese Version)

A/N: I was struggling to write this chapter (I have three versions of this :’)), so I hope you can really enjoy it. Thank youuu~

--

The late morning sun is filtering through the tightly-drawn curtain, laying its warm caress along your puffy face. Jihoon is sure that he looks as puffy as you are, for he has spent the night crying in silence as he knows you’ve done so many times before.

After telling Seungkwan to ask for Soonyoung’s help to take his car back from the hill, Jihoon muttered a quick thanks, in which Seungkwan had replied with a nod and a small smile of encouragement, wishing that the night and deep slumber would take good care of the intricate matters of the hearts. The two men went their separate ways with the same melancholic spirit. But alas, as he finally saw the face of the pale moon sleeping inside his arms, Jihoon couldn’t help the tears welling up in his eyes again, shunning his somnolence away.

He tucked the icy moon under his chin and rested his lips atop of it, whispering apologies for the eclipse that has left it cold for so long. He had pretended to be the sun, but his insolent head had let him forget and lost to his earthly pursuits. He had pretended to be the sun when all the whiles, he was no more than a mass of clouds that’s propelled forward by the wind. He was a mass of clouds waiting for his time to rain. But you. You’re celestial and terrestrial all at once. You’re the sun, the moon, the wind, and the ground. You could be anything and everything, and yet last night, just like so many nights before that, you chose to kneel down in front of him as if you’re nothing. And it made him realized how that was his way of treating you all along, as if you’re nothing.

The flutters of your eyes throw Jihoon back down to the earth, and a lump of doubt’s starting to swell on his head from the impact. When your mind was traveling with the night and your eyes were closed, Jihoon had let himself indulge in the proximity that they’d allowed, taking advantage of it as much as he could. But now that the sun’s reigning back over the day, and the night’s slowly loosening its grip around you, he’s afraid that you’d taken that liberty away from him and that he’d also have to let you go.

Carefully, Jihoon’s hands are retreating back from your figure, trying to finish the task before you become fully awake. But of course, nothing goes according to his plan anymore. “What are you doing?” you croak out as you open your eyes in a squint.

Jihoon stops what he was doing, stuck in an awkward and uncomfortable position. Half of his upper body is hovering over you, the lower part of his right hand’s still pinned under your weight while the palm of his left hand stays flat on the empty space beside you, working as leverage. “Uh? I…” he trails off, not really knowing what to tell you.

“Are you leaving?” You shift your body to let his arm free.

It’s taken Jihoon by surprise that you actually know what he’s doing instead of accusing him of something else. He quickly recovers and sits down near the edge of the bed before turning to face you, his eyes focusing more on the lines between your eyebrows rather than your eyes. “Do you want me to?” he asks timidly.

“What about what you want?”

“I want to stay. If you’ll let me.”

“Then stay.”

An instant smile grows on Jihoon’s lips upon hearing your words, but only a few seconds after that hesitation fills him up once more. He looks at your unmoving body, and he wonders whether your version of staying includes his arms snaked around your waist, your face buried in his chest, and his lips nestled on your head. But apparently, those are not what you’re referring to when you allowed him to stay.

You rise into a sitting position beside him and lean on the head of the bed, bringing your knees inside your arms and close to your chest. Time slows down as you try to ignore the silence that falls between you by counting the seconds to your breath. From your peripheral view, you can see Jihoon looking down to his fingers that are busy tapping on his lap. There’s something heavy hanging on the air in the room: the residue of last night’s eruption.

You had fallen asleep in his protective arms, and a few minutes ago when you woke up, you can remember still just how nice that felt, even though he’d been ready to remove himself from you the second you’re awake. And you hadn’t had enough time to gather yourself before you went out on a classic war between your heart and your head, slowly but surely exposing your need for him to stay. You had hoped he’d just leave so that you didn’t have to make any decision and ended up choosing the wrong thing. But he asked you what you want instead, and it distracted you from setting up metal thorns around your heart to ward him away, as you did your body with your arms just now.

You’d asked him to stay. But the war inside you had only started. And there are still these ashes raining down on the both of you in need of clearing up.

“We need to talk,” you pick up after some time, straightening your back as you raise your head to face him. Maybe this rain of ashes is corrupting your heart and your head. Maybe once it dies down, the war will soon follow.

“Oh? Right. Okay.” Frankly, Jihoon is more than a little bit startled that you’d initiate the conversation, moreover with a confrontation first thing in the morning. But he knows that both of you need to talk about what happened last night. There’s no way for the tension between you two to disappear without being addressed. He wants it to leave, wants to kick it away if it means to be able to hold you again, but it doesn’t mean that he’s happy about finally having the talk.

All throughout his waking hours last night, he’s been thinking of what he could possibly say to you to make things right again, but there’s only guilt. He looked back to the days in the hospital. While waiting for you to finally open your eyes, he had wandered through the timeline and pinpointed the exact year everything went downhill. It was four years ago. He searched, and he searched, but he couldn’t find out the logic behind his actions. Why he had drifted far away from home. Why he hadn’t been able to find his way back to his family. He’d made you unhappy for the last half of your marriage, and Jihoon had to bitterly admit that he’s surprised as to why you’d stayed.

Sitting beside your limp body on the hospital bed, he’d had no idea what would’ve happened once you wake up. The only thought in his head was that you’d open your eyes again so that he could own his mistakes and apologize to you, regardless of what you’d say in reply. But when he’d found out about your amnesia, his guilt grew feverish. You had been very accepting of him, but it’s only because you couldn’t remember the hurt he’d inflicted. And he’d come up as forbearing because he didn’t want to act as if he hadn’t done you a lot of harm. As if there’s only happiness in your life with him. He didn’t want you to think of him as more of a liar once you remember again. Because as much as he’d said he didn’t care about your reaction to his apologies, he didn’t want you to go.

“Tell me. Tell me why all of these happened.”

“I…” Jihoon exhales. “I’ve been treating you poorly for the last four years. At first, it’s Jimin. I’m not trying to blame him or anything, but… He cried more than Jaemin did that even staying in the home studio couldn’t help me producing, so I always used the one in the company. But then, whenever I was home, I’d have trouble sleeping, and that made me stay even longer in the studio. You’d nag at me sometimes, and I’d be annoyed. I went home less, and one day you visited me in the studio. Before you said anything, I’d grabbed your hand and took you to the garage. We drove home in silence. But once we stepped our feet inside the house, we’re blown up in a fight. I remember no screaming, it was a hushed argument since the boys were asleep. I told you you’re an egoist and demanding, and you cried and marched upstairs. After I shouted a few things to your back, you stopped yourself from entering your Haven. But I didn’t see if you had turned around or not. Because I just went out and slammed the doors.”

“Four… years? Four years?” you mumble, eyes already wet from fresh tears. You look up to Jihoon, trying to understand everything he’d told you. “Four years, Jihoon? For…”—you take a long breath as to steady your voice—“If- if you know all this, why have you been treating me the same way as before? Why, Jihoon?”

“I can’t pretend as if nothing happened between us and just play happy family with you. I can’t, Y/n. I can’t take advantage of your amnesia and lead you to believe that I’m this perfect husband for you. The- the accident?” he huffs out a laugh before he continues, “You could just say that I was the one who hit your car—or the cab, for that matter, since your car was in Pledis’ basement. I used it. My car was in a repair shop, so I used yours. But I refused to pick up the kids because apparently, I thought that it’s not my job. You yielded once more and offered to take a cab. And the accident happened.

“I had- I had nothing to do while I waited for you to wake up besides reflecting on what’s happening. The guilt… It’s massive. I prayed that you’d open your eyes again. I prayed that as long as I could say how sorry and regretful I am and see you alive and healthy, it’d be okay if you wouldn’t take me back. It wouldn’t, though. Be okay… It wouldn’t. Y/n… There’s a reason that you forget everything from when we started being together. I couldn’t look at you and not think that it’s because of me.”

“That… that might just be true, huh?” you say after a long pause of only staring at his eyes. “I always knew I’m stupid, I don’t know that it’s to that degree. For four years I’d stayed. It must be the kids, right? They’re still too young.” Your voice is devoid of emotions as you ramble on. It’s hard to gauge the situation when you don’t remember anything.

Another moment of silence passes between you as Jihoon waits for you to continue your words, the tapping of his fingers coming to life again. Your face is completely neutral right now, the water brimming in your eyes has long since vaporized. “Y/n—“

“Jihoon,” you interrupt, your heart and your head starting to pound to the same beat. “I don’t know what to say about what happened before the accident. I don’t know everything that happened. I don’t know how I see those things you told me. I don’t know anything for sure. I had a flashback of me in the Haven, throwing some pots to the wall. I remember being so angry and sad and devastated. And the scene changed from there to the living room. I saw you went out of the room and slammed the door on me. Is… is that the fight that you’re talking about?”

“I- I don’t know about the pots.”

You nod your head a few times, falling back into deep consideration. “I can’t base my decision on your perspective of things. I need to remember first, Jihoon. But… I do know what happened after I woke up. It’s- It’s been shitty. I… From what you told me, what I’d been through was a lot worse than what’s happening right now. I… I guess I’m willing to be foolish once again and stay for a bit more with you. For my memory. For the kids. And I need to remember if there are more reasons for my staying back then. Also, if I’d lived through those past four years, I’d be able to pass this one easily, right? Since you say you’d change and all.”

You have started your sentences with a more apprehensive tone, but the more you talk, the stronger the influence of unknown nervousness on your speech and it tugs on the corner of Jihoon’s lips to notice that. But before it grows into a full-blown smile, you cut him, “It doesn’t mean that I forgive you. I’m just- I guess… I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and therefore another chance to win my forgiveness. You need to work hard, Jihoon. I don’t think I can have a break down like last night again. It was…”

“I’m sorry. I’ll work hard. I- Thank you so much, Y/n. Thank you. You’re so amazing. I never knew that I’m the biggest fool between the two of us.”

“Wha- What are you implying?” you fake a gasp. “I thought you were apologizing?”

And just like that, the tension between you dissolves with the metaphorical rain of ashes. The war within you has dwindled down and then died altogether. Your weary brain’s acceded to the peace accord you made at last. And your foolish heart’s marched towards Jihoon, breaking out of the unfinished fence barely beating but still alive as ever in spite of the stab wounds.

Jihoon’s gaze softens as he catches sight of your slight smile. This doesn’t feel real. You don’t feel real. And without any preamble, he shuffles forward and wraps his arms around you. “I miss you,” he murmurs directly to your ears.

“Jihoon…” Your body stiffens at his unceremonious action, and Jihoon’s body immediately mirrors yours, thinking that he’s crossed the invisible boundary that you probably set. But it’s only a matter of seconds until you’re able to collect yourself again, welcoming him and slipping your hands through his middle to rest on his back. “I miss you, too,” you reply, the soft timbre of your voice permeates his shirt and skin and reaches for his heart, setting it ablaze. And every nano part of him flutters alive and transcends into a state of euphoria.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Jihoon,” you mutter after some time.

“Hm?”

“What should we do about the kids?” you raise your head in order to find his gaze. “I- I think about them a lot, and I miss them, somehow? It’s weird, but also not weird. Their visit to the hospital, their call, I… We’ve… we’ve neglected them for too long, Jihoon.”

“Let’s take them home, yeah?” Jihoon says before he lands a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. The thought of his kids has been haunting him, too. He thought that they wouldn’t welcome him anymore. But thinking about the day his kids first visited the hospital makes him realized that he’s the fool who keeps on drifting away from them. That day, they had run into his embrace. Jihoon had brushed this off once it’s clear to him that he’s the Big Bad Wolf in your life. He thought his kids accepted him because of their ignorance of what’s happening. But although that’s probably true, now that his role as the Big Bad Wolf is revoked with the new chance you’re giving him, he feels like he can also make a new start with his kids.

You give him a small nod, feeling a little bit unsettled because of your loss of memory. “Do you think they’d understand?”

“Understand? Are you going to tell them about the amnesia?”

“I don’t know, Jihoon. I think that would be better. I… I think they’d notice if I forget about a lot of things. I just thought that if they know in advance, they wouldn’t have to face a lot of little disappointments throughout my recovery. If- if I tell them in the beginning, maybe there would only be that early disappointment and nothing more because they’ll eventually understand. I don’t know. Jihoon, I don’t know what to do.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Let’s not rush that, okay? They’re smart kids, but they are still kids. We’ll get them first and see what to do after, hm?”

--

Taglist: @thatfangurltho @chwenchew @la-hermosaluna

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Chapter 8 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff

Chapter: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | EIGHT | nine | end | epilogue |

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: My longest chapter yet. Hope you enjoy this one!

Recommended Song: Nam Woo Hyun - Nostalgia

--

Silence and darkness are the only things that welcome Jihoon home this time. And the stark comparison to your beaming face makes it obvious to him that something isn’t right. He immediately runs to your shared room to find nothing but darkness. He checks the bathroom, the closet, and then hurries out, calling out your name. He takes out his phone to call you while he’s running upstairs and goes straight to your Haven, flicking the lights on as he passes.

Jihoon receives an instant answer on his call, a machine-like voice that tells him you’re busy. It makes his steps falter in front of the Haven’s door. His heart is beating vigorously as he prays that he’ll find you inside, just too caught up in your own world. Slowly he pushes the door and his hand drops from the handle.

It’s dark. He knows what that means, but he switches the lights on anyway.

“Y/n?” he calls out in vain, only to have his piteous voice echoed back to him.

The mechanical answer that comes out of his phone as he continues to dial your number is unyielding and deafening, only interrupted by the sound of his heavy steps. Jihoon slumps down in front of the couch as soon as he reaches the living room, his knees fall on slightly softer ground than he’s expected. He looks down at the heavy square thing he soon recognizes as a photo album, his wedding album. You must have been here. A few hours back, you must have been here, going through each picture and trying hard to remember while Jihoon was gone, too preoccupied with his own world, his music. Jihoon’s hand is trembling when he decides to push the album away and dial another number.

“Is she with you?” he mutters before the person on the opposite line even has time to say his greeting. He has his suspicion, but he’s willing to shove the pain that comes with it to the very back of his mind, as long as you’re okay.

“Uh? No. Why? Is she not home yet?”

“But you know where she is?” Jihoon hesitates, feeling more pathetic as the night unfurls.

“Jihoon, you okay? You sound—“

“Just tell me where she is, Soonyoung!”

“She- she told me she wanted to go to Han River. There’s a big tree—“ Soonyoung doesn’t have a chance to complete his sentence since Jihoon cuts the connection promptly after he heard him mentioned the ‘big tree’. Jihoon jumps to his feet and sprints outside to where his car’s parked.

Everything that happens between his drive to Han River is a moment flashing by. None of them is important enough to successfully plant itself in Jihoon’s consciousness. It is only you. The swimming faces that turn to pay their attention to him as he runs, he dares to raise his head because he’s hoping he’ll catch yours. But nothing. Even when the Big Tree is conspicuously standing a few feet away from him, you’re still nowhere to be seen.

“She’s not here,” bewails Jihoon once the ringing from his phone stops, signaling that Soonyoung’s now connected to his line again. He drags his feet towards the Tree until he spots a familiar flower in front of him. Jihoon drops his hand from his ear just in time with Soonyoung’s utterance of profanity and picks up the small bouquet of flowers—or posy, you would say.

Jihoon tightens his grip around the posy as he recognizes what flower it’s made of. And he can’t help the way his heart twists and cries for you when everything suddenly dawns on him. The Big Tree, lily of the valley, and your visit with Soonyoung. Your flashback, it must have been about the day before his enlistment. It was the day that he introduced this place to you. It was the day he asked you to wait for him in change for his own promise. The promise of happiness. It’s right what Soonyoung said, you’ve waited for him, always. But he…

The sound of Soonyoung’s voice calling out for him finally reaches Jihoon’s ear, snapping him back to the present.

“Jihoon? Jihoon? Are you there? Are you okay? I’m coming, okay?”

“No, I’m- I’m okay. She… She was here.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I- I asked her to go with Seungkwan since I couldn’t. Try Seungkwan, Jihoon. Try Seungkwan.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Update me later. Now, go.”

“Soonyoung,” Jihoon calls out in something that’s close to a whisper. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

“No, shh. Now’s not the time for that. I’ll hang up, okay? Call Seungkwan. Take care.”

“Seungkwan…” you repeat after you finally find your voice.

When Seungkwan had answered the call, you only managed to mumble his name before your voice gave in to your sobs. The panic from the other end of the line was easily noticeable. The piercing sound of Seungkwan’s chair screeching on the floor in the result of his abrupt standing up was one. But it was his question that made it even more obvious.

“Y/n? Hey, what happened? Y/n, why are you crying? Say something. Y/n?” He kept on asking you to stop crying and to tell him something instead, anything. “Y/n? Y/n, you hear me? Where’s Jihoon hyung? Tell me where he is.” It was from this question did he know that something’s majorly wrong and that it’s about Jihoon. You let out a whimper and continued to cry for ten long minutes. And Seungkwan’s eyes have also been wet for a while by the time he heard you call his name again.

“Y/n, please, please, tell me where you are? Is someone with you? Is Soonyoung hyung with you? Y/n, please. Tell me,” he begs you over and over again, but you only shake your head fervently. You hear Seungkwan snuffles and calls out for his daughter, “Sunye? Sunye, sweetie, come here.”

“Daddy? Why are you crying?” The worry on that innocent voice brings you back to the white of hospital room, encircling and suffocating you. Back when your children first visited you, the cheerful way that they called you and Jihoon was soon tinted with their misplaced worries over the Big Bad Wolf. And all of a sudden, you just want to run, leaving everything behind but them, your faithful sergeant and soldier.

“Sunye, sweetie, Daddy’s okay. Don’t worry, just, please tell your mom to reach uncle Jihoon, okay? Thank you.”

“No!” you croak at the mention of Jihoon’s name, bringing Seungkwan back to you.

“Y/n? Talk to me, please. Talk to me.”

“No, you- you can’t tell him, Seungkwan. He lied. He lied to me, Seungkwan.”

“Who? Jihoon hyung? Where is he? Y/n, please, if he’s there, please give the phone to him.”

Your shaking head is relentless. Seungkwan doesn’t understand, and the lump in your throat is determined not to let you explain. “I can’t, Seungkwan. I can’t.”

“Why? Is he not with you?”

The laugh that escapes your mouth at his question surprises even you. “He- here—“

“He’s there? Give the phone to him, Y/n,” Seungkwan cuts you.

“No!”—you shriek and calming down to a sorrowful whisper—“No, Seungkwan. He’s not with me. He’s never with me. He lied! He lied!”

“About what, Y/n? Please, tell me exactly what.”

“Here- Here he promised. He promised, Seungkwan. He—“

“Y/n, where are you?”

“He promised me forever.” Then you scoff, “Forever.”

“Y/n, are you at the Hill? Y/n—“ Seungkwan is interrupted by the voice his daughter’s voice, telling him that her mom said Jihoon’s line is busy, and your mind wanders back to Jaemin and Jimin. “Tell her to keep—“

And now his wife’s voice is also heard through the phone, repeating the message she sent to her daughter. “I can’t reach him.”

“Please, just- keep trying. Tell him to go to the Hill when you finally do. I’ll leave now.”

“Okay, take care.”

“I’m tired, Seungkwan. I’m so tired,” you sob.

“Shh, Y/n, hang on, okay? I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

You fail to register the sound of his car ignited to life as you continue, “I… I feel so tired. I- I can’t. I don’t think I can go on, Seungkwan. I can’t anymore.”

“Y/n, please.”

“I want to go away, but I also can’t. I- I can’t leave them, Seungkwan.”

“Then don’t! Don’t leave. Don’t run, please. For the boys. For me. Please, you promised you won’t ever run again. If not from Jihoon, then from me.”

“Why am I the only one who needs to fulfill my promise?!” you snap before you strangle out another whimper, “Why only me, Seungkwan? Why? Why should I when he lied?”

“Y/n, please, you don’t mean that. You love him. And he loves you, too.”

“No, no, he’s the one who didn’t mean anything he said.”

“Hold on, please. I’m almost there.”

Seungkwan only cuts the call when he sees you curling on yourself facing a big tree near the middle of the Hill. He rushes to your side and gathers your languid body inside his arms, both of your sobs the only sign of life in that secluded place.

“I’m tired.”

“I know, I know,” Seungkwan acknowledges, his hand caressing your hair ever so gently. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

You lay your head on Seungkwan’s chest and stay like that for the next few minutes until the sound of hurried steps intrudes in your moment of peace. You pull out and raise your head only to meet a pair of concerned eyes of someone you refuse to see. Another ugly shriek strangles out of your weary throat, restoring tears back into your swollen eyes.

“Y/n…” Jihoon trails off. He can’t find the things he wants to say to you. You look so broken and devastated. The first tear rolls down from his eyes as his wobbly legs take a step forward.

“No! Don’t!” you bark, both hands coming forward to warn him.

And Jihoon hesitates. He was about to throw your caution away and continue to move forward when he notices the absence of rings on your finger. He staggers back a few steps, feeling that his world is tilting further from its axis. You’re aware of where his gaze lands, and despite everything, your heart wrenches at the amount of hurt that’s written on his eyes. And it wrenches even more when he turns to look at you as he pleads, “Y/n…”

You draw your hands back to cover your face and murmur, “No, no, no. Don’t. Don’t.”

“Y/n, please…” Jihoon implores, taking a few long strides towards you.

“No! I said no! You don’t get to beg for me. You can’t!” You try to shuffle backward to keep your distance but the line of shrub behind you is preventing you from doing so.

“Y/n—“ Seungkwan, who has moved to the side, tries to soothe you, only to be dismissed promptly after.

“No, Seungkwan, no! I told you I’m tired. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” You bury your face inside your palms as you repeat your words over and over again. Jihoon’s next few steps escape your attention, and it’s only when he kneels in front of you do you look up.

“Y/n—“

“No,” you hiss. “You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to lie to me anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he sobs.

And your breath hitches. “Stop! Don’t fucking say that when you’re not. That’s all you’ve ever said to me after I woke up. Tell me. Tell me what you’re thinking when you put the rings back on my finger. Tell me. Tell me!” You grab the front of his shirt when instead of answering he only continues mouthing the word ‘I’m sorry.’

“And now you’re silent again, huh? You’re silent again! Like when I asked you to remind me of one of our memories. Like when I greeted you and asked you how’s your day, but you only turned your back away from me. I-” you pause, for the lump that resides in your throat almost chokes you. “I tried, Jihoon. I tried. But I don’t see you did.

“Do I have to be all shattered for you to come back and see me? I… I waited. For you I did. And I will. But you…”—you frown and your gaze wavers—“These- these pieces can’t glue themselves, Jihoon. And you just keep stepping on them.”

“Y/n…” Jihoon knows he sounds like a fool, keeps repeating your name like that. But he honestly has no words. Everything you say is true. And everything he wants to say sounds like an excuse. He hadn’t tried hard enough. He’s too busy with his guilt and insecurity. “I… I love you,” he gasps, and you scoff, turning your head away from him.

Then the images of Jihoon voicing his vows and him giving you flowers return to you one by one. “Do you know what people use to call lily of the valley?” You turn back at him and see the confusion etched on his face. “The lady’s tears. Lily of the valley is also known as the lady’s tears.”

“I… Y/n, I- I don’t know,” he stammers. “I don’t- I didn’t mean it like that. I swear I-“

“Of course, you don’t. You don’t- You’ve never meant any of those. Your promise, your vows-“

“You… You remember the vows?”

“Only recently. I’m guessing you don’t?” you challenge.

“Y/n, please, don’t say something like that.”

“Say something like what, Jihoon? Like you don’t care about me? About our kids?” You raise your voice and break into yet another sob at this. “Is that why they’re staying at your mom’s? Because you don’t fucking care about them, and this invalid wife of yours doesn’t have one fucking memory of them to continue being a decent mother?! Is that why?!”

“Y/n, stop. Stop, please. Please.”

“Why? Why, Jihoon, why? Because it’s true? Because it’s the truest thing anyone ever said about you?”

“Y/n…”—he reaches for your hands, but you draw them back close to your chest—“Y/n, please, stop. I’m- I’m sorry. I-“

“Fucking cut that sorry crap, Jihoon! I’ve had enough! Tell me. Tell me why. Why was it so easy for you to walk away from me?”

“I didn’t, Y/n.”

“Oh, but you did! You did. It’s always work with you. Music is your priority, and I tried to understand. But… But you went back to work immediately after I came home. I-”

“No, listen.”

“No! I tried to understand. But-“

“Listen to me!” Jihoon finally captures both of your hands with his, dragging you closer to him. “Listen. That day, I told you I wouldn’t go, but you insisted. You even prepared me a lunchbox, Y/n. It’s like you wanted me to go. I know you’re hurting, but it hurt me, too.

“When I came home that night—I’ve tried to come early, you know, but Mr. Kim held me up, saying that he might get fired if I didn’t go to the meeting he arranged. When I came home that night, you ran to me and hugged me. I was so happy. So happy. But my worry overpowered it. I thought something was wrong, so I held you. Then I took your face on my hands when you pulled away, and I asked you what happened.” His longing eyes wander back to yours and the small twitch on his lips forms a sour line, and you know why. “But you moved back as if my hands had burned your skin. You closed yourself again. And my hope was gone again.

“And the next day, before I went home, Soonyoung stopped me. He said that you had a flashback and went to Han River with him. I was… hurt. I thought I would know first if something’s happening to you. Or that you would tell me. I… When you got into that accident, I realized how bad I’ve treated you. I wasted you. I don’t deserve you, Y/n. And I was determined to be better for you when you wake up.”

“But I don’t remember,” you add in weakly, at which he scoffs.

“It’s- it’s not that I’m disappointed or anything. It was the guilt. Every time I look at you, I just see what I did that traps you in this condition.” Jihoon is lost in his thought for a moment before he begins again. “I’m always insecure, Y/n. I can never be enough for you. And Soonyoung, he- he loves you. He can give you anything you want, everything I can’t give you. And I was mad. I was hurt and mad.

“Soonyoung, he, he said that I was just like your ex-boyfriend-“

“Jihoon,”

“No, wait. Before, I was insecure because I thought you’re only with me because I remind you of him. But when he said that, it’s like he slapped me. I- I don’t want to take you for granted. I don’t want to waste you anymore. I’ll change, I promise. I know I don’t have a good track record, and everything I’ve said to this point sounds like a fucking excuse, but please. Please give me one more chance. I’ve failed you, but I swear I won’t fuck this up. If I even swerve an inch away from my promise, just punch me. No, let Seungkwan punch me. Or Soonyoung. Or Seungcheol hyung. Just… Don’t give up on me yet.

“I love you”, he says breathlessly. “So much.”

The look you give him is one that he can’t decipher, and he struggles to find air. And the breath he’s been holding is knocked out of his lungs when you speak up, words dripping with fatigue and pain, “Do you know why I insisted that you go?” She pauses to look at him square in the eyes. “Because it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t make a fucking difference! The- the day that I went home, after you took me on that house tour—which was ridiculous if you ask me, I mean, who the hell needs a tour to their own fucking house? After that tour, you went straight to your studio. And I cried. Do you know that? Do you know that I cried? I cried myself to sleep. And I woke up, but you’re not there. And I cried again. And in the morning I woke up. But still, you’re not there. Do you have any idea just how many times I fucking cried, Jihoon? Do you?”

Jihoon is stunned. He can’t get a word out to reach you, to pull you back to him. So he uses his arms instead. And you go berserk.

“No, no, no! Don’t touch me. No, don’t! No!” You swat his hands away then punch his chest and continue to move your body in a frenzy, trying to get away from his attempt to envelop you in a hug. “No,” you repeat, voice getting weaker by the second while Jihoon sobs his confession into the crown of your head.

Both of you stay like that for a while, your body is depleted of energy, too exhausted to put up more fight. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” Jihoon consistently whisper, allowing you to be lulled into the safe cocoon of his arms and him into the fantasy that you would be willing to take him back. Both too busy in their own world to notice the extra presence that has been watching from the side as everything unfolds.

Seungkwan stands up and drags his feet towards his two miserable friends, “Let’s go home, shall we?”

Jihoon moves one of his hands around the bend of your knees to lift you up. “I would give you anything, you know that?” you say wearily as he helps you place your arm around his neck. “A chance, anything. But… But I’m tired. I’m tired.”

“Shh, don’t worry about that. We’re going home now. I love you.”

“Jihoon,” you start when the both of you have settled on the backseat of Seungkwan’s car.

“Hm?”

“I didn’t know why I packed that lunchbox.”

“It’s okay. Go to sleep. Rest, now.” And when sleep is slowly taking you under its reign, you swear you hear an angel sings, and at the end of the song, he faintly whispers, as if it’s a secret no one else could know, “I love you.”

--

Taglist: @thatfangurltho @chwenchew @la-hermosaluna

[fatgirlwritesscenarios]

The Wrath Of

((A/N: This one is ooooolllllddddd! One of my very first requests, I think! They asked for something Woozi related that was...cute? I’m not sure what the actual request was, but I remember the key words being “Woozi”, “best friend”, “overprotective”, and “cute”...or “fluff”. One of those two.))

Pairing: JihoonxReader 

Genre: Funny/Fluff

Word Count: 1,894

Summary: As Jihoon’s best friend, you’re a queen in a dorm full of fools and Jihoon makes it his mission to make sure none of their stupid antics get you killed. The boys think he’s just being dramatic- hell, even you think he’s being dramatic...but the minute his back is turned, one flying soccer ball causes the nosebleed of a lifetime and suddenly, Jihoon’s worries are very concrete. 

                                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*

“We’re dead. We’re dead. We’re dead. We’re so dead. The minute he sees her, he’s going to kill us. We’re dead…”

“Has it stopped bleeding at all?”

“No! Blood’s still draining like a leaky faucet!”

“We’re running out of tissues! She needs more tissues!”

“Y/N, try to keep your head tilted back or else you’ll continue to bleed.”

Following the orders given as promptly and precisely as possible, you listened to the chaos swirling around you, the nine boys left behind in the dorm with you frantically fretting over your current state of health. You had come over to the dorm at the request of your best friend, Jihoon- though he had taken to reminding you every five minutes or so that it was actually the rest of the boys who wanted you to visit and if he had it his way, you would be somewhere far better and safer than that place. Being best friends since early childhood, Jihoon had always been very protective of you and always felt uneasy whenever he brought you around the others.

The boys thought he was being overly dramatic. You thought he was being overly dramatic. But not even ten minutes after Jihoon left with Joshua, Hoshi, and Minghao to do a snack run for everyone did the rest of the boys decide that a game of indoor soccer would be a fantastic idea! Long story short, someone kicked it too hard and too fast right into your face, knocking you back and causing your nose to bleed.

Since then, everyone has been trying to get the bleeding under control with no such luck and Jihoon was due back any minute. His clear instructions to the boys to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid while you were around replayed in their heads on loop, as did his not so subtle threat of bodily harm should he return to find you in anything but the perfect condition he left you in.

At the moment, Vernon and D.K. were hovering close, twisted pieces of tissue at the ready when the ones currently in your nose became drenched with blood. All the noise and panic was beginning to agitate you as you shook your head and shoved at the hands that were trying to jab more tissue in your nose.

“You guys. You guys! You GUYS!” you shouted over them, bringing the room into absolute silence as nine pairs of eyes trained themselves on you, “Please…stop yelling. The more you panic, the more likely he’ll know something’s up when he gets back.”

“Let me see how it’s doing.” Seungcheol approached you and took the tissues out of your nose, inspecting the damage done.

He flinched a little and scratched the back of his head, the others crowding around to see as well. “It’s really red. Does it hurt?” he asked, lightly brushing his fingers over your nose, “It might be bruising.”

“It doesn’t really hurt as much as it just feels sore,” you answered, flinching a bit and moving away from his hands, “Does it really look that bad?”

“With a little ice and some ointment, it should be okay, right?” Jeonghan chimed in, peering at your nose just as intently as Seungcheol was, “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

“Don’t worry, noona, we’ll take good care of you,” D.K. assured you as he held your hand in both of his, rubbing the back of it.

You smiled at him and nodded, “I’m not worried and you shouldn’t worry, either. It was only an accident, you guys, and I’m finally not bleeding anymore. Stop freaking out. Jihoon will understand.”

“What will I understand?”

About seven out of the ten people in the room hit the ceiling when Jihoon’s voice cut through the air, D.K. only making things worse when he freaked so badly he somehow ended up elbowing you in the nose. You gave a shriek.

“Oh my god! D.K.!”

“YAH! WHAT DID YOU JUST DO!?”

D.K. was apologizing profusely to you as you rolled on the sofa, trying to get your bearings while Vernon and Seungkwan scrambled to get you some tissues when blood started to flow from your nose again.

“Crap, not again,” the youngest of the two accidentally muttered loud enough for him to be heard, clamping his hand over his mouth when Jihoon practically roared at them.

“What do you mean ‘again’?!” he shouted, coming around the sofa with Joshua, Hoshi, and Minghao hot on his heels, “What have you idiots done to her?!”

At this point, your nose went from being sore to just in pain, tears welling in your eyes that you couldn’t control, though you fought to keep them from falling. You didn’t fight against your best friend as he cupped your face in his hands, staring at you and the damage that was done, noting how your nose was starting to change colors. This was definitely far from the perfect condition he had left you in.

“Jihoon…hold on…” Joshua tried to console him when he noticed dark clouds forming over his head, a murderous look in the shorter’s eyes that were directed at a shell-shocked D.K., “I’m sure it was just an accident!”

You reached out and smacked D.K.’s shoulder, giving him a single command: “Run!”

D.K. screamed and took off further into the dorm with Jihoon sprinting after him, snatching up the soccer ball that started it all. Sheer pandemonium ensued after that, the dorm filled with shouting, yelling, screaming and obscenities for another good ten to fifteen minutes as the boys tried to restrain the shorter member who, they were finding out, was more than capable of rapid attack.

When it was all said and done, and Jihoon had avenged your honor by kicking the soccer ball at just the right angle to send it flying at the back of D.K.’s head, the both of you found yourselves curled up together on Jihoon’s bed with his laptop settled between you, some action movie flashing across the screen. He had tended to your wound personally, practically snatching the first-aid kit from Jeonghan before ushering you into his room where you wouldn’t be disturbed and locking the door for good measure.

Ointment had been applied, as was a nose bandage, and you were still icing it in intervals to help the swelling and discoloration go down. At the moment, though, you were taking a break to partake in the ice cream Jihoon had gotten for you, happily scooping spoonful after spoonful into your mouth. He watched you fondly for a few minutes, completely forgetting about the movie.

“Why are you staring at me like that? Is there something on my face?” you questioned when you felt his intense stare, your hands coming up to wipe at your mouth; maybe you had smeared some ice cream on your cheek?

Jihoon smirked and nodded his head, “Yeah. It’s that big, ugly bruised thing called your nose.”

“I will stab you.”

His oh-so unique, almost childish laughter broke the silence in the room, Jihoon having himself a wonderful laugh as you glared at him. To show him that you meant business, you snatched up one of the bigger plush toys he kept on his bed and smacked him with it. He promptly stopped laughing and turned to glare at you, looking as scandalized as you felt.

“Yah! Is that how you treat your best friend, Y/N? And after I get your favorite ice cream for you?!” he exclaimed as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh please. You should just be happy that I didn’t do to you what you did to D.K.,” you retorted passively, focusing on your ice cream once again, “Hit him in the back of the head so hard, he flew into the wall. He’s probably scarred for life.”

“Good.” You stared unamused at Jihoon as he settled back against the pillows and brought the laptop close again, not looking the least bit bothered or guilty.

“Jihoon.”

“He deserved it.”

“It was an accident.”

“The first time or the second time you were hit in the face?”

“Both times!”

“Not the point,” Jihoon insisted, rewinding the movie back, “Accident or not, it shouldn’t have happened at all. I asked them to do one thing: don’t do anything stupid around you. And what do I come back to after trusting my hyungs and everyone else to watch over you? Blood. Blood everywhere.”

“Awwww, does my mean bestie care for me that much?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes.” Blunt and 100% serious, Jihoon threw you off-guard as he turned those dark and intense eyes on you. He only used that look on you when he wanted you to be serious about the topic…but the topic had never been about you or how much he cared for you.

It’s not to be mistaken: you always knew that he cared about you; otherwise you two wouldn’t have been best friends. You just never knew how much because you never talked about it and as a result, you never knew something like this could bother him so much.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he ordered, struggling to maintain eye contact as you caught a glimpse of his reddening cheeks in the glow of the laptop, “You’re my best friend. I’m supposed to care a great deal about you. The same way that you’ve always cared about me. I never want anything bad to happen to you. I never want you to get hurt.”

He shifted around until his upper body was twisted to face you more fully, his hands cupping your cheeks again, ensuring that he had your full attention. “It doesn’t matter who it is, they’re not allowed to hurt you. Whether it’s some stranger on the street or one of my brothers here, if something happens to you…it’s unforgivable.”

“Jihoon…i-it really was just an accident,” you said, your cheeks growing warmer underneath the heat of his palms, “D.K. didn’t mean it. The boys didn’t mean to let me get hurt! You need to let them know that everything’s fine.”

You paused. He paused. The world seemed to pause and wait with baited breath for his reply. Jihoon sat there searching your face, feeling himself becoming agitated every time his eyes passed over your bruised nose, but then he would look into your eyes…and turn into putty in your hands.  

He sighed deeply and righted himself with his arm draping around your shoulders comfortably, “I’ll think about it.”

“Jihoon,” you warned, snuggling into his side; cuddling wasn’t a foreign activity to the two of you since you had been doing it since the third grade.

“Shh. You talk too much. We’re missing the movie,” he ordered, clamping his hand over your mouth to silence you.

You narrowed your eyes, but did as instructed this time around. He may not have verbalized it, but you knew that he would do the right thing by his members and probably go apologize. Not now, of course, but eventually, just to let them all know that he forgave them. But for now, he was here, with you, and that’s what he wanted to focus on.

“How does your nose feel?” He didn’t take his eyes off of the screen.

“Better.” You didn’t either.

He smirked and held you tighter, nuzzling his cheek on top of your head, “Good.”

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Chapter 7 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff

Chapter: one | two | three | four | five | six | SEVEN | eight | nine | end | epilogue |

Word Count: 2.9 K

A/N: I kinda like this one...? Enjoy (?)

Recommended Song: Seventeen - I Don’t Know

--

You have spent the last four days going through every photo album that exists in your house.

Your arm and shoulder are great now, but your head isn’t. And Jihoon knows nothing about any of these. You haven’t had the chance to tell him since he has been going home later and later every night. At first, it was purely out of spite. But when the next day at work Soonyoung had the gut to come at him again, he assumed that you confided in Soonyoung, and he became exceptionally mad.

Only God knows why he’s like that. It’s not like there was a history between you and Soonyoung. It’s just that Soonyoung’s the north to his south. He’s everything someone wanted or wanted to be. Unlike him, Soonyoung’s never been afraid to show his affection and vulnerability, never backed away from confrontation, and he’s never given up on anything he thought worth fighting for.

Which makes Jihoon believes that Soonyoung’s never completely given you up to him. And that after all this time, he’s never stopped loving you.

Jihoon slams his fist on his desk when he repeats Soonyoung comments of disbelief that hinted a soft warning if he doesn’t make you his top priority. The sound of skin and bones hitting the wood shifts in space and becomes the sound of thick photo albums falling from the coffee table on your side. You don’t remember how many times you have gone through that particular album, the one that holds the memory of your wedding day. The two of you are happily captured in most of the frames. There’s a picture where Soonyoung stands on Jihoon’s right, Seungkwan on your left, and Dokyeom and Jeonghan kneeling in front of you, from the mics on their hands you figure they were the emcees. Another where all Seventeen members gather around you and acting as guards. And there’s one of Jihoon standing, looking expectantly at the aisle for your entrance, under the wedding arch.  It’s made from baby’s breath and its center point’s characterized by a lily of the valley wreath sticking to a big tree behind it.

You have stared at that picture for too long that your mind wandered to that morning when you woke up. For you, the world was clouded under your medication, but the light in Jihoon’s eyes, it was all too lucid. It was very much like the one you saw on that picture, full of nervous energy and more importantly, hope. But for you, hope has become such a frail thing. It keeps on thinning to nonexistent every time you reach the end page of the album.

You grab for your hair as you let out a growl that fades into a whimper. No picture in your house is able to ignite the memory hidden somewhere in your head. And looking through frozen moments that you don’t remember existing feels like a punishment. It only makes you feel like you are barred away from the world and that the universe is conspiring against you. So you scream. Then you remember the phone calls from your kids these last two days. And it occurs to you that there’s a possibility that you won’t ever remember them again or their value in your life. And you don’t know what’s going to happen then. And you scream. Again and again, until your throat itches and your scream comes out as a cough.

After one long hour of staring at the rings that tie the two of you together, one simple band with a diamond in the middle and another adorning diamonds all around it, and wondering what Jihoon had in mind when he put them back on your limp finger, the melancholy evaporates, settling the remaining desperation left from your scream. And therefore, returns your ability to think and conclude that being locked inside won’t do you any good. So you take your phone from atop the coffee table to call Soonyoung and then pause for a millisecond to smile, realizing that he’s wrong. He’s not an alternative. This time, it is actually him that you want to reach for. Not Seungkwan, nor Jihoon.

“Hello? Y/n? Everything’s okay?” Soonyoung’s worry is expressed perfectly by his questions, and somehow this draws out a laugh out of you. “Y/n? Hey, why’re you laughing?”

“Nothing. It’s just amusing how you constantly think that something’s happening to me.”

“Well, I’m just... Worry shows that you care, you know?”

“Right, right. Let’s go to Han River again,” you say, going straight to the point.

“Huh? Another flashback?”

“No. More like trying to get another one or two. So, what do you say?”

There is a short pause on Soonyoung’s end before he sighs. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I need to perfect a choreo before I show it to the lil’ boys. They’ll be having a mini concert soon, and there’s this remix version that”—he lets out another sigh—“I really want to help you. But I’m sorry. Really.”

“Ah.”

Soonyoung notices that the excitement has gone from your voice, so he asks, “Can’t Jihoon go with you? I can go to his studio now and—“

“Soonyoung, no.” Your voice is stern when you cut him, knowing well enough what’s that going to cost you.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I mean Seungkwan. Seungkwan, yeah. Can’t he go?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble.

“Wh- How? You… Wait, you haven’t called him?”

“No, Soonyoung. I wanted to go with you.”

“Oh? Shit. God! I’m- I’m so sorry. I complained about being an alternative, but now when you call me first, I… I can’t come. I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. Wait a sec, I’ll call the manager. Maybe—“

“Soonie, it’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“Y/n… Once again, I’m sorry. Call and ask Seungkwan, okay? If he can’t go, let me know.”

You didn’t call Seungkwan. You called a taxi instead. That was how you ended up sitting in front of the Big Tree alone at eight in the evening, holding a posy of white lily of the valley that you bought from a nearby florist.

It’s not completely white, the flower. You notice the tinge of pink that grows warmer by the minute, and as the heat reaches your cheek, you learn that already, the sun is burning low on the horizon. The picture of Jihoon and the dusk on his cheek are painted anew on your brain, and a sad smile tugs on your lips. You are tired. One second you are the sun, alive, high on the sky, and the next you are the moon, dead and cold without your sole source of life.

You raise your right hand to the front of your face, and as light bounces from the diamonds on your rings, you sigh. You had come with the determination to remember, but now you’re charged with the powerful urge to forget. You are a different person for Jihoon. You are not the person he expected to wake up in the lieu of his wife. You are just an invalid. Just someone who’s stuck in the past. In the memory of a different Jihoon.

As Jihoon bursts through your thought, flowers clutched a little too hard in his hand, you throw away the replica that’s in yours.

“You don’t like it?” Jihoon picks up at the end of your memory clip, and you want nothing but for him to shut up.

“I know that this is nothing like the hill that you found, um, your Magic Shop, you called it?” He peeks at you then continues after your confirmation, “It’s… There’s a lot of crowds since we’re in the Han River area. I’m sorry. I should’ve looked for something better.”

“It’s okay, Ji. This is more than enough. I don’t think I would need something like this anymore. I’ve promised that I won’t run again, haven’t I?”

Jihoon nods and throws his head back as he sighs. “I’m sorry that you have to lose your place. They shouldn’t have exposed it like that.”

“It’s okay. The hill isn’t mine by law or anything. Besides, it happened a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry that I just show you this now. It’s just… I have to leave for about two years, and I don’t want you to think that you have nowhere to go.” He raises his gaze to meet yours, and it’s a moment too late for him to realize what implication he has made. “No! I mean… N-not that I’m saying I’ve replaced y-your Magic Shop or something. And! Don’t- Don’t get me wrong, I want to, I-“

“Jihoon, shut up,” you cut him with a faux glare before you break into a grin. And when your mirth transforms into something more serene, you whisper to him, “You have been, and you still are.”

But you’re not anymore, you add to the still image of smiling Jihoon.

Your legs suddenly feel weak, and you’re struggling to get up. When you do, you start to walk slowly but purposefully to the only place you know you can go to forget all of your problems, including Jihoon.

Even though running is what your heart set to, this is the only thing you’re capable of doing on your current state. You move your feet forward one step at a time until you see the familiar solar-powered ground lamps forming a walkway that leads you to a garden. One that in spite of its minimum size, you insist on calling majestic. There are meters of yellow lights that you see people use for Christmas weaved around the crown of a big tree to its trunk and crept on the circumference of the ground. They’re beautiful. And you almost laugh at their futile effort to replace the role of the early morning sun. You walk closer to the white and yellow camellia, the reason for planting them rings loudly in your head. Waiting and longing, that’s what each of them symbolizes.

It surprises you that someone takes care of your—this—garden after you left. You stumbled upon this place after you strayed too far away from home. Walking to the direction of the dying sun, something you used to do whenever life or people hit you a tad bit harder than you could take. When you had found this place, it’s just a small hill hiding from the ruckus of a regular city. There’s one big tree near the middle of it—your Big Tree—and bushes and short grass covering random spots on its surface. You had left a small box of instant food and a hammock tied onto the tree’s strongest branch one day on your visit. It was one of your roughest weeks, and you had thought that the Hill would be your last destination if nothing else had worked. But when you returned three days later, and you found your supplies to be intact, you’re sure that no one frequented the Hill as you did. That’s how you claimed the place as your Magic Shop, a place that’s very much alike your Haven.

You started bringing things that would help you for when you took refuge on the Hill. You planted flowers and lamps, and you buried a trunk with books, blankets, and miscellaneous stuff. It became your second home—or your home, per se, as your apartment never really felt like one.

You walk forward near the edge of the hill, looking at the peonies, buttercups, and anemone hepaticas you planted for their beauty. Hanakotoba. If only there’s something for your sense of incompleteness or your tendency to run. That flower then would easily pass as your reincarnation. Now that you think about it, maybe there is something. Maybe you just don’t know what. The way you don’t know whether you’re always running from something or towards something.

The sight of anemone hepaticas in between the rosy peonies and yellow buttercups reminds you of your former obsession with forget-me-not. Both flowers are somewhat similar in color, that’s why with the minimum light from your artificial sun, you have trouble in your search of the latter. As your eyes float around flowers, your head registers the meaning of the blue-purple flowers. It is true love. Or memories. And you’re suddenly enraged by this. You feel mocked to the point where you jump to your knees to inspect each flower in detail, just to find one forget-me-not. You reproach yourself in your head for how stupid you are. Both flowers are distinct. How you cannot point it out is so beyond you. You are talking about your favorite flower here—at least back when you only see lily of the valley for the beauty that it is.

Lily of the valley, you mouth as you fall into a sitting position, your gaze is no longer combing through the shrubs and flowers. It was until lily of the valley. It was until Jihoon.

Forget-me-not, true love. Memories. White camellia, waiting. Yellow camellia, longing. Primrose, desperation. Lily of the valley, the promise of happiness.

Your head spins as you recall every flower and its meaning, creating a new set of loop for your brain to play.

Memories. Waiting. Desperation. True love. Longing. Promise of happiness. Longing. True love. Waiting. Memories. Desperation. Promise of happiness. Promise of happiness, promise of happiness, promise of happiness, the word resonating in your ears, followed by the dusk on Jihoon’s cheek on your vision.

The first sob that escapes you sounds a lot more like a whimper, your hand finds its way to your chest, clutching it hard as you close your eyes.

“Y/n.”

Your eyes are open in a snap, and you turn your body around, facing the sturdy trunk of a tree you once called a house.

“I have written my vows and revised it until I fell asleep on my desk in the studio. I thought it would be the same as songwriting, but it’s not, Y/n. I found that it’s hard to find the right word, and I don’t know whose idea it was to think that abandoning that vows scratch is a smart move.” You can’t help but chuckle along with the audience at the small snicker that comes out of Soonyoung who is standing next to Jihoon, signaling that it’s indeed his idea. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and tighten your hold on Jihoon’s hands as you focus your attention back to his words.

“But as I stand here in front of you, I am back at Pledis’ lobby, just walking with tears in my eyes like a lost child. I didn’t bump into you, Y/n. I was looking for you. And you, without any words, dropped those lunch packages for us and brought me to your arms. When I let go and apologized, you said to me, ‘Don’t. Cry.’ And I was so confused, but you’re not finished. ‘You have a lot of tears, Jihoon. Cry all of them out. Come to me and cry. And let me wipe them clean. That way I know you’ll be okay.’

“And I cried some more in your embrace. I cried because I couldn’t see myself standing beside you, couldn’t see you standing beside me for as long as I want.” You shake your head a few times at this, tears already starting to fall down your cheeks. ”I want all of you, Y/n, the broken and intact pieces of you. I want you to make good of those words you said to me, and I want you to allow me to abide by my promise to you.”

You nod frantically. He’s taken too long with his vows, and you just want to dive into his arm and close your lips around him to shut him up. But then you and the audience laugh, for Jihoon continuous, “Don’t agree just yet, I am asking your whole lifetime, Y/n. I can’t accept months, years, or anything but that.” He pauses, and you think he’s done but no. He clears his throat once before he inhales. “Y/n, I love you. I can be a total doofus sometimes, like saying that you can’t agree just yet. Please, don’t heed that. You can’t not agree. Because I love you. And I need you. And I need to stop talking because I’m embarrassing myself. But that’s okay. Because I love you. And I’ll always do.”

The sound that forces its way out of your throat is full of dire. It is so raw that your body shudders. Your cry of anguish is amplified in the otherwise silent night. You grab for your hair and pull at it, face wet from your tears and mouth moving restlessly to mold your hurt into words and the air into oxygen. But all of these halts abruptly when your hair is caught on the diamond of your engagement ring. Your attention shifts to the ring on top of it, your wedding band.

A word that resembles nothing of its consisting alphabets shrieks out of your body as you take out those two rings from your finger and throw it away as you did your posy, the action killing the last fire within you. And you collapse in a whimper.

Liar.

You gather your feeble limbs to your chest and let your head fall on your knees, back to crying in silent, as you usually do.

When the wind becomes harsher to your skin you reach for your phone in your pocket. Your voice is frail and defeated when you start, “Seungkwan…”

--

Tag list: @thatfangurltho

A/N: I didn’t go through a detailed research of whether the mentioned flowers could actually grow in the place that I used or not, so...

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Chapter 2 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff (hopefully)

Chapter: one | TWO | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | end | epilogue |

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: Thank you for everyone who have read the first chapter. I’m extremely thankful for the reception this story got so far. Alright. There are a lot of tears, but enjoy!

–

It’s been two weeks since Jihoon exhausted his tear ducts in the watch of Seungkwan that night and his two other members on the next. His eyes are heavy and barely open. The moment when they involuntarily close is rare, only for a few hours in every two to three days. He hardly eats; his main nutrient intake is caffeine. Well, yeah, nutrient. And this is very disconcerting for his members. Seungcheol, their leader, took this upon himself to report to the company so that they would release Jihoon from any creative obligations for the time around. And Soonyoung, being the other witness to Jihoon’s breakdown, contacted Jihoon’s mom in hope that she would be able to coax her son to eat and take care of himself and his children.

Jaemin and Jimin stayed at Seungkwan’s for the first two days. At first, they were excited, but when their grandmother picked them up, they couldn’t help but feel a little bit anxious. Jaemin expressed his worry out loud as the three of them entered their silent house, “Where’s Mom?”

Mrs. Lee took a long breath, contemplating to make up some lies before she relented and chose to let the boys know her version of the truth. “Jaemin, Jimin, dear, your mom is in the hospital. But, she is okay. She is just tired. She will just sleep for a few weeks in the hospital, and then she’ll be home again.” She gave them the most sincere smile she could muster as Jimin started to sob.

“Is it- Is it because of u-us? We always ask Mommy to read. We always ask her to read us some- some story before we sleep. W-we ask Mommy to sing also.”

“Jimin, dear,” Mrs. Lee began again with tears in her eyes.

“Jimin gets bad dreams whenever Mommy reads about the Big Bad Wolf. And- And Jimin would look for Mommy. She’s always on the couch. May-maybe Mommy has bad dreams too. And Daddy is not home yet to keep Mommy safe. W-we shouldn’t ask her to read the Big Bad Wolf.”

Mrs. Lee reached for the boys and hugged them tightly. “Shh, dear, this is not your fault, okay? Your mommy will be okay. She’s not having a bad dream this time. That’s why she sleeps too soundly. Don’t be sad or angry because she sleeps too much, okay?”

Jaemin, who started to cry at the proposal of Jimin’s idea, slowly recovered and put a brave expression on his face. “It’s okay. Mommy can sleep for as long as she wants. I won’t let the Big Bad Wolf disturb Mommy.”

“Is- Is Daddy with Mommy, Grandma?” Jimin added, “I-if we can’t fight the Big Bad Wolf, and- and he would come to Mommy’s dream… If the bad dream wakes her, she’ll need Daddy.”

Mrs. Lee tries to swallow her sob, but she fails. She knew how rare it was for her son to be home, and she knew that you’re very understanding about that. But it hurt her enormously to know that even their youngest child needed to try to understand and accept the absence of his father. “Your daddy never leaves her side.” She chuckles in between her sobs. “That’s why I’m here. You boys are smarter than your daddy. Your daddy is so scared that the Big Bad Wolf will come he doesn’t even leave your mommy to eat or take a bath. I have to scold him like a little boy.”

The two boys laughed at their grandmother’s comment, and Jaemin raised his hands to wipe Mrs. Lee’s tears with his little fingers. “Don’t worry, Grandma. We are smarter than Daddy.”

“Grandma,” Jimin called out. “But can we see Mommy? We promise we’ll be good. We won’t be too loud.”

“Soon, dear. Soon.”

Mrs. Lee brought the boys to the hospital a few days after that, on Saturday, the supposed deadline for Jihoon’s demos. He naturally forgot about them. For God’s sake, even his kids slipped out of his mind until he heard the excited voice of Jimin calling for him.

“Daddy!” He ran with his arms wide open towards Jihoon who instinctively dropped down from his chair to kneel and catch his son in a hug. Jihoon tried to smile and wear his happiest face, but his red eyes didn’t escape the attention of his extraordinary boys.

Jaemin released his grandma’s hand and walked slowly towards Jihoon, “Are you okay, Daddy? Is Mommy okay? Did the Big Bad Wolf come?”

A single line grew in between Jihoon’s eyebrows as he looked up to his mother, who only stared back at him as if she’s going to cry. “Did the Big Bad Wolf come, Daddy?” Jimin repeated.

“No. No, the Big Bad Wolf can’t go inside the hospital. No need to worry.” He raised his hands to pet his sons’ heads. He only knows a little about the Big Bad Wolf. That’s a recurring role in many of Jaemin’s bedtime stories, and probably Jimin’s too. He just assumed that you still read them stories even when he never helped you with it anymore.

“Then it’s okay. Grandma also said that Mommy sleeps in the hospital so that the Big Bad Wolf won’t disturb her. And now you’re here. So if Mommy’s having a bad dream, she doesn’t need to be afraid. Just like when Jimin has a bad dream from the Big Bad Wolf, and he stays with Mommy on the couch,” Jaemin said.

A single tear escaped Jihoon’s right eye, and before his kids question him further, he enveloped both of them in his tightest embrace, which made the two boys chuckled. “Yes, Daddy’s here.” He kissed the crown of their heads and whispered to himself, “I am here.”

Jihoon was sleeping when he feels the slightest movement on your fingers that he holds. He jerks up from his seat, his heart bursting with hope. “Y/n. Y/n? Baby, you awake?” He leans towards you, speaking softly while caressing your cheek. He waits for a few seconds, but when only the clock answers to him, he rushes to the door in search of help. “Doctor?! Nurse? Anyone!”

He sees two nurses: one then follows him inside, and the other goes to get the doctor. Jihoon explains that he felt your finger moved when he was asleep. The doctor’s arrived not so long after that. He does some IV, pupillary, and other check-ups as Jihoon’s eyes go back and forth from your face to the doctor’s. His heart is beating so fast that he thinks he might need some check-ups himself. He bites on his nail, a habit he unknowingly took from you. And all of his worries at the moment are washed away as the doctor turns to him with a small smile, “She’s out of the coma. But remember, Mr. Lee, when she wakes up, you might need to give her time to adjust first. Her brain has shut down for quite some time. Don’t forget that she might also need to relearn a few things.”

Light catches Jihoon’s eyes as he smiles, “Yes, thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll leave you then. Call for me when she’s conscious.”

Jihoon acknowledges the doctor and takes his chair closer to your side and sits down, hands clutching your right one. He kisses the back of your hand a few times before he moves to give a lingering one on your forehead. “You’ll be okay, baby. I’ll be here when you open your eyes. I’ll be here.”

Jihoon is struggling to keep his eyes from closing in the wee hours of the next morning. He promises you he’ll be there when you wake up, and he means it. Although he’ll still be technically seated by your side, he refuses to enter the dreamland and miss the flutter of your lids, which is happening right this moment. The chair produces a screeching sound when Jihoon jumps out of it. One of his hand reaches for your cheek while the other one stays on yours, his teeth biting on his lower lips. His eyes are unblinking now, the drumming of his heart a faithful accompaniment to the unimaginative lyrics of ‘please’ in his head.

The movement of your fingers is minute, but he notices. He tightens his hold on your palm and voices his pleas, “Come on, Y/n. Open your eyes for me, baby. Please.”

And you oblige.

A relieved sigh escapes his lips, along with a chuckle, tears brimming over the edge of his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

You blink and then frown.

You fail to process anything around you, and you try to speak but your jaw is too stiff, and your mouth is too dry. Again, Jihoon notices your struggle. “Shh, it’s okay. Wait here for a sec, okay? I’ll call the doctor.” And with one last teary look at you, he disappears outside your room.

Your left shoulder throbs. Your head throbs. But the rest of you are numb. Your mind is numb. You are freezing, but you can feel the sweat starting to trickle down your neck and back. A tremble starts on your fingers and spreads like a wildfire to slap your whole body awake, your breath becoming shallower as the second goes. Jihoon’s panic face is the last thing your eyes manage to capture before they give up and yank you back into the dark.

Faintly, you hear him screams your name. You feel exhausted, and within the haze, you wonder why there’s only Jihoon in your room. You feel like giggling as you remind yourself to ask him that when you wake up again later.

You’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness for the last five days. It’s normal, the doctor said, when Jihoon vigorously convinced him that he hadn’t dreamed of you waking up—he saw your eyes opened. And just like that early morning, he holds your hand tight and close to his tender lips when your lids flutter open once again. Jihoon gasps out your name as you squint your eyes due to the brightness of the white room.

You feel a bit better, your body still numb but you can process your surroundings. You try to move your head to look at Jihoon only to see tears in his eyes. “Hi,” he whispers with a small smile.

And you feel like giggling again. You remember your question from when you heard Jihoon screamed. You’ll ask him, but first, “Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, and Jihoon is quick to give you a glass of water while helping you to raise your head.

“Better?”

You nod before you clear your throat and say, “My shoulder.”

He chuckles a little, “It’s okay. Take it easy. You had a fracture, left shoulder and arm. The doctor said you’ll recover in about six weeks, or about three weeks from now.”

You nod again. “So I guess, I was out for three weeks?” And you see Jihoon’s expression turns somber, so you refrain yourself for asking what happened. The most important thing is that now you’re okay, or at least you will be, in three more weeks. Instead, you opt to ask him the burning question in your head. “Why are you here alone?” To your surprise, Jihoon’s face contorts, and he breaks down in tears.

“I’m sorry, the kids are at Seungkwan’s since last week. Since it’s closer. I’m so sorry, I-I just can’t leave you alone.”

“Shh, now. It’s okay. I’m okay, shh.” You free your right hand from Jihoon’s and bring it around his figure. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“I was scared. I am scared, Y/n. I thought… I thought you’re gonna… And it’s all gonna be my fault.” He sobs into your neck, your hand moves from his head to his shoulder as you remove him from your embrace.

“Your fault? What… What happened?”

“You- you were in a car accident, and it’s- It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I don’t… I don’t get it. Why? Did- did you drive?

He shakes his head once and looks down to his hand. “Then it’s not your fault. It’s okay.”

You search for his eyes, but he continues to shake his head. “No, Y/n, you don’t understand. We- we fought. I used your car, and you asked me to pick up the kids, and I- I was still mad, and- and you took the cab, and you had an accident, and it’s all because of me. I- I should’ve just picked them up, but instead I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Oppa, look at me. Calm down. Calm down.” You raise his chin with your fingers so that you can meet his eyes.

“Please, please forgive me. I couldn’t imagine living without you. I couldn’t imagine never be able to apologize to you. I’m a jerk. I’m the worst. I should’ve just picked them up. They’re my kids, too. And now I left them with my mom at Seungkwan’s. I’m such a jerk. I’m-“

“Hold on,” you cut him in the middle of his speech. “Stop right there. What did you say?”

Jihoon is lost. He was so caught up in his remorse and apology that he can’t understand why you stopped him or what you’re asking him. “What?”

“Your kids? They’re your kids, too? Who… What are you-“

“What?” Your question throws him out of balance, his own question coming out as a gasp, and he can’t seem to make his brain to work.

You and Jihoon look at each other with deep frowns on each of your foreheads. The sound of the clock’s hand is deafening, and time flows leisurely as your lungs try to outspeed it. “I thought- I thought when you said the kids are at Seungkwan’s you meant the other members. But- Oppa, I- I-“ Your head aches, and the time is now running with your lungs. You keep calling out for Jihoon, but you can’t hear your own voice.

Jihoon, on the other hand, is looking at you as if you’ve stabbed him so that he can’t follow you to your race. Tears are streaming down his face as he struggles to form his sentences. “Baby, you don’t… you don’t remember? They’re our kids, our boys, Jaemin and Jimin, uh?” He looks at you, but you don’t know anything he’s saying. You shake your head while he continues to prod on you, “We- You asked to name our youngest after BTS’ Jimin. Do you remember?” He chuckles in between his own sobs, but it only makes your breathing harder.

You can see the pain in his eyes when he sees you keep shaking your head in tears, your lips mouthing his name. “But- but you remember me, right? Right? We- we married eight years ago. Baby, you don’t-“ Jihoon stops himself when he heard you wheeze. “Shit. Take a breath, please. Please, please, it’s okay. Take a breath. Doctor! Please someone, nurse! Doctor!”

Jihoon sits outside, placing his head on his left palm as he searches for Seungkwan’s name on his contact list and calls him. He picks up on the second ring. “Hyung? Hyung! What happened? Why are you crying? Hyung?”

For a few moments, only sobs are audible from Jihoon’s side of the phone. Until he cuts Seungkwan’s panic outburst with his broken voice, “She- she’s awake. She’s alive. She’s alive, Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan lets out a loud sigh, “Oh, God. Thank God. You scared me, Hyung. I thought something bad happened. How’s she?” He waits for Jihoon to respond, but the latter only sobs harder. “Hyung? Hyung? You can stop crying. She’s okay now. She’s awake. Hyung, she’s okay, right? Hyung, talk to me! Hyung!”

“She- she- she doesn’t remember. Seungkwan, she doesn’t-“

“What?!” Seungkwan is silence for a good second. He audibly takes a long, shaky breath as he recalls the day you’re admitted before he weakly continues, “So the prediction’s correct, huh?. I’m… I’m sorry, Hyung. What did the doctor say?”

“He’s inside. With her.” Jihoon runs his fingers through his hair. He grits his teeth when he speaks again. “I know something’s off when she called me oppa. She never does after we’re together. What am I supposed to do, Seungkwan? I can’t- I’m so stupid. So so stupid. I should’ve-“

“Hyung! Stop that! You should stop blaming yourself. What happened, happened, and it’s not your fault, okay? The doctor said it’s temporary. We can help her remember.”

“But the doctor doesn’t even know how long temporary’s gonna be! It can’t be forever. Seungkwan, it can’t be. She can’t live without remembering any of these. And I-“

“Hyung!” Seungkwan snaps at him. “Listen to me. You can’t be like this. Not when she needs you. You have to be strong for her. How… What is the last thing she remembers, do you know?”

“She knows me, us Seventeen. She thought- she thought I was talking about you guys when I mentioned the kids.” At this point, Jihoon’s sobs have subdued. He stands up and watches the doctor talking with the nurse.

“Okay. She’s not far behind, I hope. At least we’re not strangers to her. Now, we need to know what year she thinks we’re in. I’m on my way. Take care, Hyung.”

Jihoon ends the call and faces the doctor, “How is she?”

–

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Chapter 3 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff (I’m praying)

Chapter: one | two | THREE | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | end | epilogue |

Word Count: 1.7k (a rather short one, sorry)

A/N: Happy 4th Anniversary to Seventeen!! Also, I almost cried writing this. Almost. But it hurt me, still.

–

“So, we’re married, huh?” You ask Jihoon with a teasing smile. It’s been very weird to be around him. He’s tense, always cooped up in his own head. You are trying to lighten up the mood by asking, but he doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“Yeah. Please, don’t tell me you regret it,” He replies, barely audible.

You sigh and take his hand in yours. “I see no reason why I would, Oppa. Regret it, I mean, not marrying you.”

And yet the memory you forget starts from around when you two are together. Jihoon can’t help but think the reason is that he has failed you, that he hurt you, ten times too many. He can’t help but think that you unconsciously make the decision to forget. “Please, just call me by my name. That’s- that’s what you do.”

“Okay.” You give him a tight smile, even though you know that he’s not looking at you. Some parts of you somehow break seeing him like this. You just want to curl up and cry and for Jihoon to hold you and tell you everything you need to know. You want to just believe everything he says, but all he has to say ends on his apology. And you are frustrated. With Jihoon, with yourself. Eight years, you don’t remember anything from eight full years of your life. You feel like an idiot. You are married, and you have children, but you don’t remember any of those.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until a sob breaks free, and Jihoon snaps his head to look at you. “Y/n. I’m- I’m sorry.” He says.

“Stop it! All I’ve heard from you are sorry, sorry, and sorry. I’m tired of that, Jihoon. Tell me, about me and you. The- the proposal, the wedding, the kids. I feel stupid, and you’re not helping. You can’t even look at me anymore! You’re my best friend even before all of these. I used to be able to go to you, and that alone would be able to make me feel better. And now it’s like… like you’re not even here. I know me not remembering anything is a bummer. But- but- but you said you’re my husband. I just… I…“ You cover your face with your hands while you cry, trying to control your breathing as not to hyperventilate.

Without you noticing, Jihoon has his head ducked down again. He silently cries for your words are a punch on his gut. They are true. You would always go to his studio and launch yourself on his couch or take a chair to sit beside him while he’s working. You would grab his left hand and force him to work with the one hand that’s left. When you two started going out, you would barge inside and throw your arms around him from behind his chair, your head on his shoulder.

But now that he’s your husband.

To him, it is as if you were about to say that you can’t seem to feel the truth in the statement. Because he, too, feels the same. He remembers telling you that it’s unnecessary to visit him in the studio since you live with him anyway. You can stay at your house and wait for him. Oh, wait you did. And, yes, a house it is, for Jihoon is hardly there to make it a home. Not for the last four years at least.

Your first year was excellent. Jihoon would always find a reason to take a break from his producing and come home to you. And so was the first three years of Jaemin’s life. You made it clear that a child is a great commitment that you should carry together, and Jihoon agreed. Jihoon was sweet and attentive. But he started to find reasons to stay away from home after Jimin. All the crying and cacophony that made a home scared his inspirations away. He would rather be in his studio where he could focus on his music. You understood. You always did. But even after the constant-crying phase of a baby, Jihoon found it easy to forget that time did fly and that there were three souls craving for his presence.

You would ask him, and he would get defensive. He didn’t understand why, but he did anyway. A little fight would rise here and there, so you learned to keep quiet. You loved him, too much for your own good. And you knew that he loved you too. You tried to understand and reached out to him, but he only went farther away. That’s how you learned to get by, just the three of you. Your sons were extraordinary. They had questions, but they didn’t ask. Not because they’re afraid, but because there seemed to be an invisible string that connected your souls together. Just one look, and any of you could see the longing painted on each other’s eyes. And they would come to you and hold you close until dreams washed away your pain.

You said it’s like he’s not there.

But that’s not true, Jihoon realized. He was not there. He was never there. You are the one with amnesia, but he’s the one who forgot first. Jihoon clenches his fist, nails digging into his palm, fighting the sobs that are threatening to escape him. He doesn’t hear you calling for him, but when you put your palm on his cheek, his defenses shatter. You put your good arm around him and pull him closer. And Jihoon molds into you, his arms circling around your middle and his head falling on your shoulder. He cries, and you forget how you have been crying yourself and why. Those things have become irrelevant as his presence in your arm surrounds your senses and brings peace to every each of them.

And then it comes to you like lightning, without the thunder, only light and beauty. The realization comes to you like a breeze that sweeps away your doubt.

This, this is why he’s your husband. No wonder why you are his.

Amongst Jihoon’s sobs, you suddenly giggle. Jihoon is so taken aback that he stops crying. He loosens his arms around you, and his incredulous expression fuels your giggles. You take his face on your palms, and you slowly close the gap between your faces, your nose touching his. His eyes are wide when you look at him and whisper, “I love you, Lee Jihoon. Without a doubt.”

Seungkwan and the other members visited you that evening, wrong timing, really. Even after all these years, the boys were still as loud as ever. You didn’t know how thirteen people were allowed inside the ICU, but there they were, making your head pounded from time to time as you hoped to survive the night. They filled you in about the proposal and the wedding and your kids, more than what Jihoon provided. He stayed in the corner of the room for most of the conversation. Recounting what you should’ve remembered is painful for him, and he doesn’t want to tamper with your memories. He doesn’t want you to remember his perspective, or the other members’. He wants you to take your time and tells him your truth, that you remember being happy, with him, even if it’s only for a while.

Seungkwan kissed your forehead on his way back and promised that he’ll bring the kids tomorrow. And he’s true to his word. Two loud voices precede the presence of two adorable boys, still intact in their respective uniforms. They are running with their arms wide open, and Jihoon is quick to lift them up so they can sit with you on your bed. “Mommy!”

“Be careful,” Jihoon says. “Mommy’s left shoulder and arm are hurting because of too much sleep.”

Hearing this, the two boys chuckle. You watch them as their laughs leave them. They look just like Jihoon. This makes you smile, and for no apparent reason, tears are running down your face. “Mommy?” Jimin mumbles, his hand reaching for your cheek. “Did the Big Bad Wolf wake you up? Are you still tired?”

You shake your head slowly, “No, why would you think so?”

This time, Jaemin answers, “Grandma said that you sleep here because you’re tired. You’ve always stayed up late, and we thought it’s the Big Bad Wolf. We’ve been good and stay with Grandma and sometimes with Uncle Boo and wait for you. Grandma took us here when you still asleep, and Daddy is here to keep the Big Bad Wolf out. He’s always with you like Grandma said, right?” Your son pauses to look at Jihoon and continues, “We love you, Daddy, but you’re always gone. And Mommy, you’re crying, if you’re still tired, you can sleep. We won’t let the Big Bad Wolf slips inside. We’ll wait. We love you.”

Jihoon is shaking and so are you. You gather the two boys inside your arms despite your throbbing injury and kiss the crown of their heads over and over again. “Daddy is here all the time, and, no, the Big Bad Wolf’s never here. Mommy’s just happy to see you, my soldiers.” You don’t know where that’s coming from, but that seems to be the right thing to say.

Or half right, at least, since Jaemin is quick to protest, “Mommy! I told you that I’m a sergeant now. I’m older!”

You laugh but agree nonetheless, “Alright, alright. My brave, brave, sergeant.” And with a wink for Jimin, you add in a whisper, “Old sergeant.”

Jaemin whines, and you and Jimin laugh even more.

Jihoon was already outside with his mom and Seungkwan when you said that he’s always with you. Even his kids know. Of course they know. He thought the Big Bad Wolf only exists in bedtime stories. But he’s wrong. Of course he’s wrong. He’s always wrong. And he repeats this in his head without any note of sarcasm, unlike when you had your fight. He repeats it with burning guilt that’s eating up at him.

“Jihoon,” His mom calls out gently.

“Mom, I… I- I am the Big Bad Wolf.”

–

[eternaljouska]

Redamancy, Chapter 6 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff

Chapter: one | two | three | four | five | SIX | seven | eight | nine | end | epilogue |

Word Count: 1.8 K

A/N: Again, another short chapter that I’m not really proud of (?)

Recommended Song: Linkin Park ft. Kiiara - Heavy (I’ll have a different song for the next chapter. I have one ready, I promise.)

–

You send Jihoon to the door with another lunchbox. And he bids his goodbye with a tight smile on his lips.

Last night, you barely got any sleep. One was because Jihoon suddenly moved to his original side of the bed, and two was because you couldn’t get rid of the wasps in the wake of your flashback. It had you replaying those scenes over and over again for you to finally understand that the woman you heard is you. And with the fact that Jihoon left the house at the end of the flashback, you can tell that the two of you just had a fight. A major one, that is, seeing that you’re never the one to resort to aggressive behavior.

You pace around the living room with your nails on your mouth again. You want to go to the Haven in the hope of getting another flashback, but you are afraid that if you do, it would be as intense as it was yesterday. And you doubt you’re ready for it. Your eyes flicker around the room aimlessly until you catch sight of something familiar from the corner of your vision. You turn around and gasp.

Lily of the valley.

The flower you hold in your wedding picture. Your wedding bouquet, it’s white lily of the valley.

You run upstairs and slam the door of the Haven open, rushing to the place where the pot struck the wall. You plop down in front of it, mind going to hundreds of different locations at the same time.

Why have I done that?

The fury, despair, and grief that were mirrored through yesterday’s flashback, you don’t fully understand them. You want to understand.

Why, why, why, why?

“I love you.” You hear Jihoon starts, and your breath hitches.

“I’m sorry that I’m being selfish, but… I want you to wait for me. I- I hope you’ll wait for me. Here”—he extends his hand, offering you a posy of flowers—“you know, it’s hard to choose a flower for someone who knows flowers.” There’s a sound of laughter that reminds you so much like a tinkling bell, a sound of which allows you to see the warm color spreading on Jihoon’s cheek, mimicking the sun who’s ready to set behind him. “So, um, I googled it. You know, hanakotoba, the language of flowers. I, um, there are a few versions, but… you know… just, here”—he clears his throat as he grabs your hand and shoves the flowers to you—“promise me you’ll wait for me, and this is my promise to you.”

The vibration of your phone in your pocket pulls you out of your head.

It’s Soonyoung.

“Hey, why do I still see that prick over here? I gave him a piece of my mind yesterday, and it offends me that he didn’t listen.”

You blink your eyes a few times before answering, “Huh? What is it, Soonie?”

Soonyoung’s heart skips a beat when you called him with that nickname. It did the same that night he and the other members visited you in the hospital. He hadn’t worried about anything else besides your wellbeing. He and Seungkwan have been your best friend since forever. He was nervous, but he knew you’d remember him. Yet when you actually called him Soonie instead of Soonyoung or Hoshi, relief washed over every inch of his body, and he swore that was one of his happiest moments in life.

“Um, I’m sorry. It’s just, Jihoon’s at work again. I told him yesterday not to go. At least, not yet, not until you’re better. How- how are you? I should’ve asked you that first, but—“

“Soonie, it’s okay. I’m okay, and you can’t chain Jihoon away from his job. None of us can, not you, not me. Or at least, not forever. He’ll get back to producing eventually, and I don’t mind. Really.”

Both of you are silent, your thought traveling back to the dusk on Jihoon’s face, and an idea pops up in your head. “Hey, are you free?”

“Why do you want to go to Han—hey, at least wear a hat, will you?” Soonyoung groans as he sees you exiting your house without any disguising elements on your head. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still famous, you see.”

You laugh at that, this boy, you think. Soonyoung himself wears a beanie and a mask that is lowered to his chin as he speaks. He stands from his previous position leaning on his car to open the passenger door for you.

“So, my question, why suddenly the Han River?” he continues once he hits the road.

“I… I had a flashback.”

“A flashback?”—his lower lip protrudes slightly, forming a little pout, a sign that he’s currently thinking—“Oh! You do?! What is it?”

You nod. “I’m not sure. I was hoping that maybe I’ll get some more if I visit the place.”

Soonyoung feels the atmosphere getting heavier by the second that follows. So he quips, “Why me, huh? Usually, you’ll go to Seungkwan first.” He looks at you teasingly, but frankly, he’s curious and nervous for your answer. 

“You called me right after the flashback.”

“Oh, I did?”—his voice turns glum—“You’re saying that it’s by chance? And that it’s gonna be Seungkwan if I hadn’t called?” You whip your head at his morose inquiries. You were about to say something when he beats you to it. “I’m only ever your alternative, huh?”

“Soonyoung, I…” you trail off your words as you try to swallow the lump that’s starting to form in your throat.

“Shit! I’m sorry, Y/n. I don’t mean to—“ Soonyoung blurts out his apology when he sees that your eyes have become watery through the rear-view mirror. But you immediately cut him.

“No. No. I’m sorry. I- I don’t know that you feel that way.”

The silence between you is heavy even after both of you exit the car and walk together on one side of Han River. Soonyoung is busy lecturing himself for his outburst in his head when you stop on your track and raise your hand to point at something. “Is that familiar to you?”

Soonyoung looks up to see that you’re pointing at a big tree planted in a ground rather higher than its surrounding. He shakes his head. “No, just some normal tree for me. But if for you it is, we can walk there.”

“Hey, um, I’m sorry for earlier. I really didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m just… You know what I’m like,” Soonyoung says once you arrive in front of the big tree.

You turn to him and smile. “It’s okay, Soonie.”

“Did any of them talk to you?” he says after a few more minutes of silence, a comfortable one this time.

“Hm?” You look at him, making sure that you’re thinking of the same group of people as he is. “All of them did actually.”

“Good.”

You spend some time with Soonyoung, leaning on the tree and talking about the good old days. You clap your hand together and rise from your position, ready to go home. As it turns out, getting a flashback is not as easy as you wish it to be.

The sun is still high in the horizon when you leave, walking away with the heart of an ember that still burns for the same person.

Lily of the valley, you whisper to that heart.

Lily of the valley: sweetness or the promise of happiness.

The night is young when Jihoon arrives home. He wears an expression that’s quite far from amicable, lines etched on his forehead.

“Hey, you’re home!” you gush, standing from your spot on the couch in an instant that you hear the sound of the door.

He doesn’t say anything back. Nor does he respond to anything you say to him all that night.

To say that he is pissed is somewhat an overstatement. He is not angry, just slightly annoyed—yeah, but greatly hurt.

On his way out he was stopped by Soonyoung. The man skidded to a halt in front of Jihoon, chest heaving and shirt drenched with sweat. It seemed that Soonyoung paused his dance practice abruptly to run for him.

“Hey, I was out with Y/n to Han River today, I thought I’ll let you know. She said she had a flashback or something and asked me to take her there.”

Soonyoung was busy controlling his breathing to realize how his words were affecting the younger man. Jihoon’s body stiffened, and his eyes darkened. There’s a fire of anger burning in his chest, but it’s quickly washed away by the wave of hurt that followed. Why hadn’t you called him instead? Even if you couldn’t talk to him, why not tell his other members? Seungkwan, for instance. He’s like your best man, your best person, best whatever. Why Soonyoung?

He could barely keep himself from driving over the speed limit. His head was filled with tons of questions he was ready to ask you as he burst through the door. But then he saw your face beaming. And he couldn’t help the second wave of hurt that washed over him. He couldn’t help but wonder what you’re so happy about and question if it’s because of your little afternoon rendezvous with Soonyoung.

You were persistent, trying to make a conversation with him while forgetting to mention the fact that you’ve been away all afternoon when he’s not home. But he’s drowning in his questions. Why didn’t you say anything about the flashback, if not about Soonyoung? He’s supposed to know when you have any progress with your memory, right? He’s your husband. And he didn’t even ask or need to be the first to know, just that you’re the one to tell him.

You tried to bring up the Han River and the memory you’ve acquired, but alas, your poor heart’s easy to discourage. As Jihoon walks to your room, you rush inside to claim his side of the bed before he can, so you can sleep while facing him. He stops in the doorway to see what you’re doing and proceeds to occupy the remaining space on the bed, too tired mentally to argue or clean himself up first. He faces the dim lamp on your bedside table, eyes wide awake from it and some other reasons.

He gives you his back. You call him, but he doesn’t turn around. You know that he’s still awake. So you wait, teeth biting down your lower lip, willing yourself not to make a sound as you silently cry. When you’re sure that he’s asleep, you pull the cover away from you and walk out the room to the Haven. You plop yourself down at the hammock outside, ignoring the cold wind that stings your eyes.

You stare at the spot on the wall where the pot broke, and look down to the diamond circling your ring finger.

Lily of the valley, you repeat bitterly.

The promise of happiness.

--

Another A/N: HAPPY PRINCE HOSHI DAY!!!!!! I feel like it’s only fitting to upload this chapter on his birthday. Anyway, I hope you’ve enjoyed this. I’ve been progressing through chapter seven very slowly, but I’ll get there. Thank you so much for reading!