Al.works - Tumblr Posts

Is This Love?

yang jungwon x reader [afab]

genre: fluff

concept: despite barely being of noble blood yourself there's nothing your family wants more for you than to find a man of high class and finally marry into a family of wealth and reputation. you aren't so taken with the idea, and instead find yourself gravitating to a man that your mother couldn't dislike more.

w/c: 4.7k

warning: regency era au, period typical racism and racist commentary (not graphic or violent, reader is heavily implied to not be of asian descent), period typical classist commentary, yearning, forbidden love

You’ve never really been one for parties, but it never fails that the sun of the summer tends to bring people out in droves to enjoy the sunshine and the warm weather. You’ve also never really cared for summer though, long evenings spent in your parlor, sitting in front of the fire with a hot pot of tea and a book have always been your preferred evenings but that’s quite a long way off. Right now, you’re being forced to languish away in hot skirts, fanning yourself in an effort to give yourself some kind of breeze and entertaining young suitors that you truly have no interest in. 

It’s all your mother’s doing. “You’re not getting any younger,” she reminds you day in and day out about your biological clock and how you’re running out of time. It doesn’t matter to you, the idea of bearing the children of these pompous, exhausting men is a nightmare in and of itself. If you never bear a child and spend the rest of your life being called ‘baren’ ‘cold’ and a ‘spinster,’ well, so be it.

“Oh, goodness,” your best friend whispers to you behind her own fan. The garden party today is crowded, so you’ve decided to seek refuge beside your best friend, despite the fact that she’s being trailed by her incredibly well meaning fiance. They’ll be getting married when the weather turns, it’s going to be a huge party, you’ve been helping her plan it since he proposed last autumn. Still, she’s your only lifeline that’s not either condescendingly commenting about how unfortunate it is you’ve not found a man yet or pushing said men directly onto you. 

“Something the matter?” You ask her, sipping delicately from your crystal glass. The water is tepid but it’s better than whatever booze concoction is in the communal drinking bowl. 

“Nothing,” she chirps but you simply lift a brow. “Did you happen to see who just arrived?” You shake your head but then slowly turn your head towards the entrance to the garden. “Late as always. No one taught the foreigner how to read a clock,” she comments. You glare in her direction for just a moment before turning back towards where the newest attendee of the garden party has entered. 

He’s a young man, about your age, with wide eyes, dark hair and he’s dressed impeccably in his charcoal grey suit. His hair is combed neatly away from his face and he’s greeting anyone who looks in his direction with a politeness they neither understand nor deserve. He’s always been this way, from the moment you met him last spring, transplanting from the far reaches of the East right into your back garden. If anyone had the slightest understanding of what they were looking at they would treat him better, at the very least because of the regality he seems to display and the handsomeness of his features. 

“An hour late,” your friend drones, rolling her eyes. 

“No later than you’ve ever been to a garden party. Might I remind you what kept you during all those balls during our school years?” You tease her. She harrumphs, turning to her fiance. 

“Darling, would you get me something to drink? This weather has me just parched,” she tells him. He goes without any other prodding and you smirk behind your fan. Once he’s outside of earshot she turns to you harshly. “Shut your mouth. What do you know about the things I did in our school years?” 

“You forget who covered for you so quickly?” You retort. She huffs, waving her fan around faster, as though it will be enough to cool the heat of her blush as it makes its way around her ears and up her neck. “Face it, you only say such things because you don’t care for him,” you insist. 

“As if I’m alone in that opinion,” she retorts haughtily. You don’t remember her being this petty when you were young, but you can’t very well be too surprised. She is marrying a Lord’s son and that’s sure to bring her a fair amount of social status. It makes her head the size of the moon some days, when she’s feeling especially like she suddenly deserves the world just because of who she’s going to be marrying. 

You’re just a Viscount’s daughter, which means you are owed quite a bit less status that she will inherit. Not that status has ever really mattered all that much to you. Your mother insists upon it, marrying up in the world. She did, after all, a lucky commoner’s child that happened to catch your father’s eye. Perhaps, to her, it is everything, but not you. 

You’d sooner marry for love than find yourself in a loveless, arranged marriage for the sake of your family name and nothing else. 

“Ladies.” While your friend has been harrumphing and grumping about his arrival, he’s clearly been making his rounds, finally finding himself at your side. You turn to him with a gentle smile, though your friend's politeness is clearly forced. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says, his voice lilting with a slight accent. 

“Well⁠—” 

“Of course not,” you’re quick to insist. You hear your friend huff at your side but you’re looking at the man before you, who smiles back at you. “Lovely to see you again, Lord Yang. How have you been?” 

“Quite well, thank you for asking. Kept busy,” he says, brushing a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. Your eyes follow the trail of his white gloved hands from his side to his hair and back down to his side. “And yourself, Miss?” He asks, which brings your attention back up to his face. Just the corner of his lips tilts upward in a sharp little smile, causing a dimple to appear in his cheek. 

“Well enough,” you reply and he lifts a brow. “Much to attend this season. I’ve been kept plenty busy with the various garden parties and balls that the noble are known to throw. I’m sure you’re much the same.” 

“Not nearly as well invited as you are, it seems,” he comments, grinning at you. “I suppose a lovely woman such as yourself must spend quite a bit of time with handsome suitors. Just as well, I heard you’re looking to be married.” 

“Not so soon,” you laugh off, shaking your head. “My friends are more the marrying types,” you say, looking over at your friend, who huffs but has a rather pleased smile hovering around her lips. 

“Ah, right. You’re betrothed to Lord Erikson, if I’m correct,” Jungwon says, turning to your friend. Her smile turns from forced to downright pleasured as she turns to face him fully, face half covered by her fan. She’s a taken woman, nothing pleases her more than being able to talk about it. 

“That is correct,” she lays on. 

The moment her awaiting marriage is mentioned, you’re left to do nothing else but stand by and listen to her regale Lord Jungwon Yang with all the glorious details of her upcoming marriage, the wedding, the manor she’ll be living in, everything bright and sparkling about being a bride-to-be. You’ve been listening to it for ages but Jungwon is a fresh set of ears to be forced to hear about it so you stand idly by, thankful to have Jungwon at your side because at least it’s a temporary shield against the many men who can’t seem to take a hint. 

Temporary is the problem, however. 

“Lady Y/L/N,” a gentleman says, coming to your side while Jungwon is being enthralled (unlikely) with the wedding plans of your school friend. You turn slowly towards him, forcing a smile to the surface despite how little you’d like to. “I understand you came to this event unattended. Might as well be a crime, a lovely woman such as yourself being left to fend for herself.” You blink at him slowly, lifting your fan towards your face. “If you’d like, I’d be more than willing⁠—” 

“I believe you got the wrong idea,” Jungwon says. You turn abruptly to him, your friend cutting herself off as soon as the words leave Jungwon’s mouth. He turns to the man at your side, tilting his head. “I don’t know quite know how as I’ve been standing here this whole time, but I assure you, Lady Y/L/N is quite well attended to for this event.” The suitor standing beside you blinks at him, stunned. “If you’d like to dance with her, you might think to ask the man attending to her, don’t you suppose?” 

“I wasn’t aware⁠—” 

“I didn’t think so,” Jungwon says. “You made that quite clear.”

The suitor clears his throat awkwardly, bending slightly at the waist in a bow to Jungwon and then straightens back up to ask, “if I may ask her hand for a dance? It would please me greatly.” He’s turned slightly to you, however, an obvious disregard for Jungwon’s opinion. You hide a smirk behind your fan, eyes downcast. 

“I’m afraid I was about to ask her to dance,” Jungwon informs him. The man turns back to Jungwon, startled by his boldness. “Thank you for your interest though.” The suitor turns to you, as though you’re going to rebuke Jungwon’s claim but you simply turn towards Jungwon. 

“You were?” You ask, tilting your head at him, lowering your fan a bit so he can see more of your face. 

“I was. It would’ve been terribly rude to interrupt your friend while she was speaking though.” He turns back to your friend, who is wearing a truly flabbergasted expression, having witnessed the entire exchange between the three of you. “I apologize for my rudeness, miss.” He bows slightly to her in apology. “You won’t mind if I take her hand in a dance though, would you?” He asks. 

“No,” she says, clearly too startled to deny him. 

“Wonderful.” Jungwon offers his hand to you. “Shall we?” 

You slide your gloved hand into his, feeling the heat of his hand in your own. Silently, you wish neither of you were wearing gloves so you could feel the full warmth of his palm against yours. This will have to do for now though as he leads you out onto the dance floor, your fan folded and hanging from your opposite wrist. 

It’s only once you’re on the dance floor, the bricked path beneath your feet, that Jungwon speaks again. 

“I apologize,” he whispers to you. You look at him to see him already looking at you. His gaze is gentle, staring at you with a kindness you’ve yet to see from the many suitors that have tried to take your hand before him. “I’m not usually so forward but, you see, I’ve waited all season to ask you to dance.” You blink at him, taken aback by his confession. “I’m not often invited to events like these so I had to seize my chance when it presented itself. I hope you weren’t too startled or offended.” 

“On the contrary, I was very impressed,” you inform him. A smile creeps its way across his lips again. “Not many men have the boldness that you do. Most men wouldn’t do such a thing for my attention. I am, after all, not that desirable.” 

“I don’t think you understand what that word means if you think that,” Jungwon retorts. “I’m afraid I’ve been working very hard to make my way through the crowds of men seeking your attention all season long.” You giggle, bringing your hand down from his shoulder to cover your mouth. “I know I’m not quite the man your family would prefer⁠—” 

“You’re a good man, Jungwon,” you interrupt him. His eyes widen in surprise at your bold statement. You feel warm with embarrassment at stating something so abruptly and interrupting him in the process. You cover your mouth with your hand again. “Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have⁠—” 

“Thank you,” he tells you. Your embarrassment dies down at his words and you look at him from under your lashes. “Not many people would say that to me.” 

“You shouldn’t listen to what other people think,” you tell him, resting your hand on his shoulder again. The hand on your waist tightens just a bit, pulling you the tiniest bit closer to him. It’s not unseemly, not yet, but your bust brushes the front of his suit jacket. The heat of him is close, his face just inches from your own. You truly think you could get lost in the depths of his dark brown eyes, even deeper and darker than the tea your mother makes in the winter months, yet twice as warm. 

“I’ll take that into consideration.” 

Though you hadn’t thought about it before, the longer you remain in Jungwon’s company the more you grow to like him. He’s sweet to you, kind and speaks with a gentle tongue. While others might find his lilting foreign accent distracting or uncouth, you don’t. It’s sort of handsome to you and when you’re done dancing, you spend the rest of the party in his presence. No one else approaches the two of you, after Jungwon’s abrupt and firm rebuke of the first suitor’s interruption, your hand wrapped around his bicep. You find his attention sort of all consuming, in the best way, the adoration in his eyes and the soft way in which he regards you. It’s enough that you sometimes find yourself hiding behind your fan to keep your composure. To say you’re taken with him would be an understatement for certain, assuring him on his parting that you want to see him at the next event you both will be attending. 

“I look forward to it,” he tells you, taking your hand in his. He bends at the waist, bringing your hand to his lips to gently kiss the back of it. Oh how you wish you weren’t wearing gloves, the mere thought of the soft touch of his lips to the back of your hand is enough to leave your heart racing. 

Others, however, don’t feel the same. 

“Do you think this is a joke? This isn’t just your life we’re talking about here!” Your mother explodes as you’re being fitted for a new gown. The poor seamstress that’s fitting your skirts around your waist is being forced to bear witness to the verbal lashing you’re receiving from your mother. You’re quite used to it though, keeping your composure as she speaks. “Do you have any idea what kind of scar you would put on your father’s name if you were to entertain such a man? I won’t have it!” 

“You don’t even know him,” you say, voice measured. 

“I don’t have to! You’ll not be wasting your time with some low life trader’s son!” She insists. 

“He’s a doctor,” you inform her, turning your head to look at her. She scoffs, arms crossed over her chest. “He’s gone to school and everything. Has his own practice. He’s a good man, with a good standing. Just because his father is a trader doesn’t mean he’s the same. He’s made something of himself!” 

“Made something!? He’s an Oriental, he’ll never make something of himself, Y/N, don’t be naive. He’s no more a doctor than that Chinese medical man who sells herbs on the street. You’re not to be mingling with the likes of him,” your mother warns you. “Do you have any idea the kinds of things people would say about you if you were to court him?” She asks, walking around to stand in front of you. You huff to yourself, not meeting her eye. “The kinds of things they would say about me, or your father, if you married someone like that?! I won’t have it. You have a reputation to uphold.” 

“You think he couldn’t carry father’s name?” You retort. 

“I’d hope the good Lord would strike me where I stand before I let something like that happen,” your mothers tells you. “Now you listen to me, you are not to be seen with him anymore. He is not going to court you and he is not going to attend you to any further events, do you understand?” You bring your gaze down to meet hers. “I don’t want you to even go near him. Don’t let him get any ideas. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” you sigh. 

You knew this might happen. Your family has some very old fashioned ideas, your parents especially, and the idea that you might let someone like Jungwon attend to you, of course your mother couldn’t stand it. As stated, your reputation is everything to her, especially yours. She expects you to marry up, not down. Of course a simple man with a good job isn’t enough for her, he needs to be noble, of high class. Jungwon will never measure up to her. 

The next party you attend, you keep to yourself, eyes down, fan in front of your face. The heat is unbearable, so surely no one can blame you for the way you keep your fan close and up, keeping yourself covered. You don’t even dance, sitting away from the festivities, allowing the chatter of late season weddings, births and birthday parties wash over you. 

You glance up when a murmur runs through the crowd, an hour past the beginning of the party, just in time to see Jungwon enter the gardens. He’s dressed just as impeccably as before, though his suit is brown rather than grey. Still, you doubt he could ever look poorly, his handsomeness speaks for itself. You sigh to yourself, standing and walking away from the table. 

Perhaps it’s all a bit juvenile but the idea of being away from him is easier than trying to ignore him. After all, you can’t stop your feelings any more than you can stop your heart from beating. It’s all so sudden and yet, with one longing gaze, it’s all you can do to not ask Jungwon to ask for your hand right then and there. He’s a gentleman so he won’t, he’ll do whatever it takes, even if it means flowers and dancing and courting and admiration from afar until it’s socially acceptable to ask you to marry him. But you wish he wouldn’t, you wish he would just cut the chase. 

You’ve never cared for men who waste time. 

Hedge gardens are all a bit trite to you, but they’re fine places to think. Especially since no one will come looking for you, you can even go alone. So you do, finding yourself wandering through the thick maze of tall hedges, bright green and reaching above you, almost like trees. You fan yourself, glancing up at the unbearable sun, hoping for the day the air becomes crisp with the autumn wind and you can wrap yourself in shawls instead of sweating under your many skirts. You wonder if there’s a place where it’s like autumn all the time, if you could hope to live someplace like that. Someplace away from this, all of this meaningless nonsense regarding class and reputation. 

“I thought I might find you here,” someone says and you turn, finding Jungwon walking up behind you. He’s still a few paces away, a respectful distance between the two of you, especially since you’re alone here. “When I saw you leave, I worried I’d done something. But we’ve not even spoken since our last outing.” He stops a few feet from you and you lower your fan with a sigh. “Maybe that’s the problem. Should I have chased after you, sending you love letters and words of admiration so that you might miss me more?” He’s teasing you, you know it, but it makes you frown anyway. “What have I done?” He asks, moving to close the distance. 

When he steps forward, you step back, causing him to stop in his tracks. 

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you,” you say and his expression drops into one of confusion and worry. “I think it would be best if you attended to someone else this summer.” 

“I don’t want to attend to anyone else this summer,” Jungwon informs you. “I thought you wouldn’t want me to,” he adds, walking towards you again. You stumble backwards, only to bump directly into a hedge, causing you to stop. You glance at it, betrayed by your own clumsiness, and then look back at him. He closes the distance until he’s only a foot or so in front of you. “Have you changed your mind?” 

“I…” He tilts his head at you, “have. Yes.” 

“I see,” he sighs. “Well, I apologize for wasting your time.” Your frown at him, hurt. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” He takes your hand gently in his, bending at the waist and kissing the back of your hand again. Your heart flutters like it did before, Jungwon lifting his gaze to look at you from under his lashes. “Have a lovely summer, Lady Y/L/N.” 

You sigh softly as he lets go of your hand. He leaves you, walking back out of the hedge maze and, presumably, back to the party. You huff to yourself, turning your fan over between your hands, despondent. 

Your mother, as expected, is nothing less than thrilled when you tell her about the exchange. 

“Well, I should hope so,” she says, enjoying her tea in the garden, fanning herself. “That young man is finally learning his place.” 

“I suppose he is,” you mutter to yourself, staring down at your hands. 

That evening the night falls, dark but illuminated by a silver, full moon. You dress down into your nightgown, the late summer turning into autumn as soon as the sun goes down. You find yourself wrapped in a long housecoat, shuffling to the window in your slippers. You open the window, leaning out to let the crisp night air caress your skin. Though the courting season might be ending, perhaps you will finally find solace once more in the quiet days and cold nights. It’s the least you can hope for. 

You’re startled by the sound of rustling. You look out towards your garden wall, nervous of what might be happening. The leaves on the ivy that drapes down the sides of the wall shiver and rustle in the night air but it sounds heavier and heavier the longer it goes on. You lean out over your window sill, watching out for what might be causing such a ruckus at such a late hour. 

He appears over the top of the garden wall, heaving himself up and over the top. Your mouth drops open with a gasp when the moonlight illuminates his features, making his wide eyes seem even darker, his smirk coming into focus. Jungwon sits on the edge of the garden wall, suit jacket and waistcoat gone, tie missing and first few buttons undone like some kind of rascal from your romance novels. He looks up at you, hands on the top of the wall. 

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,” he calls out, making you laugh and shake your head at him. 

“You shouldn’t be here!” You insist, trying to keep your voice down but still trying to make sure he can hear you. 

“I shan’t go until you speak with me. A young man’s heart is nothing to toy with, princess,” Jungwon tells you. You lean against the window frame, smiling sadly. “Come to my side, tell me your woes. I’ll do whatever I can to ease them.” 

“I assure you, you cannot,” you sigh. His expression softens as he looks up at you. “It is not your heart that is being toyed with, prince charming. I assure you.” 

“A princess’ heart is not one for games, of this I’m sure,” he replies. “Come down from your ivory tower so that I may offer you solace.” 

It’s a tempting offer. You glance back at your bedroom door, knowing well your parents must be asleep by now. Only your bedside lamp burns in the entire house. You turn back to him, Jungwon looking up at you with hopeful eyes. After this afternoon, his bright eyes make you ache for his side once more. You can’t help but notice he’s without his gloves, dressed down in what is surely an unseemly way, you are as well. Yet you long for the touch of his bare skin against yours, even if it’s just his palm clasped in your hand. 

“Will it be in your arms?” You ask.

“I desire nothing less,” Jungwon says, voice aching with conviction. You smile, reaching out to close your window. 

You snuff out your lamp as quickly as you can, then gently open your bedroom door. You must creep, as silently as you can, from your bedroom to the first floor, then make your way through the estate to the doors to the back garden. When you get there, you carefully ease that door open as well, closing it with a soft hand. You rush out into the middle of the garden, still dressed only in your housecoat and nightgown, looking for him.

“Was it my arms you wish to find solace in?” A voice speaks from the darkness and you turn towards it. Jungwon walks towards you, hands in his pockets. You rush towards him, his hands leaving his pockets so he can catch you when you run into his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. Jungwon bundles you into his arms, holding you against him.

It’s the first time he’s ever held you, but you sink into the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around your body, the weight of him against you, the warmth of him seeping into you. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, hugging him to you. If this is the only time you’ll be able to do this, you’ll not forget it for the rest of your life. 

“So you haven’t changed your mind,” he whispers into your hair. You pull back to meet his gaze. “You never did. Did you?” 

“No,” you whisper. “My mother⁠—” 

“She doesn’t approve,” Jungwon says. You nod slowly. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. A woman such as yourself isn’t meant to marry beneath her, after all.” You frown at him. “I’m not worth much to them. I’m just a trader’s son⁠—” 

“Your status doesn’t mean anything to me. Marrying someone for status is useless. What about love?” You reply and his expression turns soft. “What about marrying someone because you love them? Because they make you feel happy and full and good in their presence? What about that?”

“Women like you aren’t supposed to yearn for love,” Jungwon says, lifting a hand to your cheek. “Love won’t bring you things you most desire.” 

“If love is not what I most desire when you do not understand what that word means,” you reply. He smiles at you, stroking his thumb over your cheek. 

“Run away with me?” He asks. 

“So suddenly?” You reply, staring up at him. “What if you grow bored of me?” 

“Do you think I’m the type to grow bored of people easily?” Jungwon asks. “I assure you I’m not.” 

“Of people? No. Of lovers? Perhaps,” you reply. His eyes widen, a smirk making its way across his lips. “You don’t see me as a temporary lover, do you?” 

His lips press to yours suddenly. It’s like he’s taken the breath from your lungs, your body paralyzed in his hold. His fingers hold you gently in place with a tenderness you’ve never experienced, your arms wrapping around his neck tighter once more. Jungwon’s hand guides you to tilt your head, his opposite arm wrapping tightly around your waist. 

You’re not courting, he’s not even attended you more than once, but you grip at his shirt, holding him tightly against your body, chasing the feeling of his mouth against yours. It’s an earth shattering kiss, one that makes it feel as though the entire world has melted away underneath your feet. Your knees are weak but he holds you up, keeping your body pressed against his own. He kisses you with a recklessness you have never known, a passion that makes you feel dizzy and lightheaded when he pulls away from you. 

“I’ve never had a lover before you,” he confesses, “and I don’t plan on ever having another after you.”

a/n: sometimes, it's about the ✨ romance ✨ it's about the longing, the yearning. that's what it's all about this time, baby. hope you enjoyed 💕

taglist: @ducksstolemybread @dr0wnme0ut @destinyhoon @emisloves @alvojakereblogs @lilyuwon @oddracha @skzenhalove @nyfwyeonjun @bunhoons @ministrawberrywithchocolate @heeshlove @nshmrarki @zeeloveshee @nyxtwixx @manifestobackshot @onlyuyu @in-somnias-world @hoonmine @shawnyle @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @llpovi @jiminie-08