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hwaightme · 21 hours
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you ever just
ḭ̶̭͑́w̷̧̡͈͝i̸̧̥̒̅s̷̪̦̈́ḩ̸̞̗̋́ẗ̵̢͇̦ơ̶̬̪̳ư̴̠͊̀ṉ̶̥̓̀͠ḓ̷̬̉̒e̶̠͒r̷̝̒s̴̹̙̈̀t̷̥̋̓͆ȁ̷̢̙̉n̶̢̿d̴̛̫̺͚͗͝h̸̹̘͙͛ő̸̬̈́w̵̦̯͊i̸̧̗̦͆̎̽s̷͎͐͜ḣ̸͓̣͗ę̶̾̓s̵̳͋ő̵͕͂̕ș̴̬̦̆p̷̹͗ē̵̯̳̙̊c̷̗͒͘t̴̪̹̜͂ä̷̯̗c̸̪̥͊ų̶͕̂l̵͍̲̗̂̈͘á̴̰̻r̷͙͕̼̋͘͝ǎ̸̼̙͓̄͛n̷̡̢̧̐̚m̴̰͗͜͜a̷̖͉̞͌͒̾g̶̺̑͛̎n̶̟̑̒ī̵̬͔̽́f̴̗͐i̵̟̭̓̐̕ć̷̙̼̽e̵̤̹̓̓͜ǹ̶̤̦̽͐ţ̴̠̔ͅb̶̖̓͠ų̵̃̃͝t̵̨̜͓̏į̴̦̚a̶͔̾͠͝m̵̖͐b̴̳̹̈́ȅ̴̮̞c̵̜̞̬̾o̵̰̓̓̕m̴̱̌̃i̶͉̼͓̅n̶̬͐͝͝g̷̰̬̔̚ǫ̷̥͐n̵̩͖̳͗̀è̸͖̝̱͗w̶̡̅i̸̟͉͆̆̄t̶̡̛̗͒̔h̷̗͙̮͛͠͝c̷̳͗̀e̵̩̣̯͑m̸̥͛͛e̴̢͌ņ̵͓̬̊̇̍t̷͕̞̣́͝ḁ̷̧̺̋͠n̶͍̻͍̈́͑ḑ̵͋̀t̷̪̟͚̃͗h̸̜̱́̆ě̴̫̥̗͌͛w̷̙̩̍a̵̬͈̬̓̎ĺ̶̞̠͜l̸͓͋̄s̷̗͎͕̔̆i̷̖̓a̵͙͈̋͜m̶̮͛s̵̬͎̼̾̈́̑t̸̠̻̄́̅ͅa̸̼̠͂͐r̸͔͚͔̒͗̀t̶͈͔̐̇͊i̷̜̮̝͋̈́͌n̵̰͚̜͐̏̍g̴̨̱̤̈́̈t̶̨̞͕̓̐̔ö̵̧̳̮́̑͐l̶̖̭̦̑̍͝ȇ̷̛̻̏v̸͉̀͝i̴̮̦̞̽͑̕t̴̬͗̇à̶̺̕t̴͚̹̉e̶̬̥̤͝i̷̲̺͊̅̓a̷̭̎͝m̸̨̞̤̾̔̓j̴̱̱̅̔u̶̗̙͊͌͑ś̸̺̮͗͝t̶̫͖̍̚̚a̴͔͐͐͒͜͜n̷̨͆a̴͍̤͑̿̕͜t̸̪̓͜o̴̳̹̒̈m̵̢̑d̸̮͖̞̐̽ō̴̺̚ṅ̷̯́͋ṱ̶͕̏̈́͊m̸͔̱̂į̶͕̹̋n̸̰͈͐d̵̡̟͝m̴͉͂ẽ̵̱̹͆̕
yeah
yeah same
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hwaightme · 3 days
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spring has sprung and so did my love for you!! here is your seasonal bai appreciation day from chip because you mean so much to me and i treasure you more than hwa treasures his legos!! i hope you are doing well, my love, my flower, my bai, and know that i love you so much, always 🤍💐 - your biggest fan, chippie
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(some hwa typa love agression :3)
chip!!!!!!! my lovely!!!!! <333 thank you so so much this really made me smile so hard~ i hope the spring is treating you well and the HWAHWA SEASON COMING SOON will be lovely for you <33 my angel baby <33
i love youuu <33
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treaties, flowers and hwahwa for you <33
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hwaightme · 3 days
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💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart, and if you get five back, you must be pretty awesome.💌
my joong <3 ilysm <33 right back at you <333
here are smiley hwahwas <33
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hwaightme · 3 days
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💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart, and if you get five back, you must be pretty awesome.💌
i lob u and right back at you<3
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cute hwahwa for you <33
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hwaightme · 5 days
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What does ur username means😭is it hwaight me as in fight me..amiright
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yes indeed^-^
one must honour the camera-swatting agenda and cat allegations somehow whfjsjsjxjd
(also "fighting"? the exclamation? i don't know her i only know "hwaiting" /j)
much love <33
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hwaightme · 5 days
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💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart, and if you get five back, you must be pretty awesome.💌
My LOVEEE❤💕 right back AT YOUU❤ and here is cute matz for you
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hwaightme · 5 days
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Hello there!
This is a little chick hopping into ask boxes to send good vibes!
I hope your day or night will be blessed and a most amazing one ☺️
Lovely greetings, Kat 🩷🐥
awh why hello there kat <33
thank you so much lovely, good vibes received and more good vibes sent right back to you! hope you had/are having the loveliest yuyu day <3
many hugs, much love <3
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hwaightme · 6 days
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The meaning of 'Jeong'
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☔ pairing: yunho x f!reader ☔ genre: comfort, fluff, angst ☔ summary: jeong (정/情) - the intimate and warm feeling, the closeness and affection arising from one's relationship with another person. ☔ wordcount: 5.8k ☔ warnings/tags: stress, a lot of work stress, burnout, disregard for own health, language, a little arguing, yunho driving, yunho singing, business, office, implied office disrespect, no need for words when yunho knows, knight in a shining automobile, snow and rain, on the verge of a breakdown, starry night, unedited, lmk if anything else~ ☔ taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven ☔ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ☔ a/n: hello there, sometimes we are in need of some yunfort~ warmest hugs, and much love! All reblogs, comments, thoughts, notes appreciated~ Thank you so much Sky for ideating with me, inspiring me, and fueling first my San, and then my Yunho brainrots <3 would not have happened without you~
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It seemed that no matter what you did, everything served to further agitate you - another penny in the bottle of emotions that was threatening to overflow if you as much as hinted at your utter exhaustion. With all your might you wanted to convince yourself that this was temporary, you were trying your best and that no matter what happened, it all would end up being for the better. But sometimes, too much was just what it was. Too much.
Your troubles had wounded themselves tightly into an impossible knot, weighing you down until you were in a hopeless crawl, barely sentient and resorting to existing on autopilot just so you could avoid tearing up in a public place. You were not about to give your colleagues the sadistic satisfaction. With hefty heaps of sarcasm and barely concealed impatience, you waded through meeting after meeting, discussing projects that had backlogs larger than your anger. Somehow, as the day progressed, what you had already deemed to be a ‘not so good day’ had managed to one, two, triple-up itself.
First, you were notified, twenty minutes before the official launch of a function update in an internal, company-wide application, that there was a severe bug found, and the release would have to be delayed until further notice. Nothing new for a product manager to hear, but considering that you had just spent two hours in a metaphorical grill with your own senior manager, as well as the director of the department, you were not about to ‘not take things to heart’. The pressure only built as you were pinging person after person, with your dual monitor glowing from all the messaging windows, fighting against the torrent of your subordinates’ uncontrollable procrastination, all an attempt to reconfigure task assignment to fit in the same sprint. You cursed the ‘agile’ framework time and time again as you upped the severity on at least seven story points for your team, and hesitantly, transferred a hefty number to yourself.
This was a never-ending cycle. One which you would never break no matter how hard you tried. Such was your job; at least that was the excuse you gave it, since the monetary compensation was good enough to be motivated to put up with was clearly draining. In calls from early morning until late in the evening. Constantly juggling everyone’s workload and having to keep your finger on the professional pulses of at least fifty people, globally. You were no stranger to having meetings at awkward hours of the day, either. As you watched your colleagues beginning to pack up and leave for home, chatting away about their families, or about some new restaurant that opened in the area, or about some sports game, you realised you were completely deflated. Looking at your calendar, there was only one meeting – with partners in the US, to go, but it felt like an impossibly daunting task. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on your eyes and tension in your neck made it impossible to sit comfortably. But you still did it. Still sat there, in your office chair, accompanied by the squadron of chronic overtime workers whose heads were dotted across the floor as far as your eye could see, and pretended like it was not nearing nine o’clock at night.
You had promised your boyfriend that you would stop drinking coffee at weird hours, him having been horrified at how you could handle the bitter beverage, while you would pretend you did not see him sneak sweetener into his mocha. But with both of you getting busier and busier, and with you additionally trying to drown out the noise that came with not seeing him as much as you would have wanted, you slipped into your routinely coffee machine visits. The rumble of the artificial barista as it brewed up your only source of energy was soothing – the one sound in the workplace that did not pose a threat to your mental health, nor to your growing headache. Every sip was a temporary lull in an otherwise chaotic corporate fiasco you had found yourself in. Oh, how you wished you could tap out; this was your only conclusion to the dull, monotonous interlocution where not once, but twice did one of your co-workers abroad show their complete ineptitude in all things technology related by failing to share screen and check chat.
As you bid farewell to the last of the officemates who you agreed to mutual acknowledgement with, you leaned back in your chair and sighed. With the pitch black night outside, the artificial fluorescence that illuminated your pallid, tired skin appeared to be stronger, drying your eyes. If you were to stay frozen for a while, they would turn off until the next sudden movement, and maybe you could catch up on a much needed nap, cutting your sleep debt by at least a few minutes. But at the same time, could you afford those few minutes? When you were left alone with your mind, the notion of productivity and achievement became skewed, and what you would previously deem to be okay, or good enough, easily moving on to the next task, now metamorphosed – daunting, demanding monsters that haunted you, highlighting their inexistent faults in a dark crimson, covering your vision. If there was free time, that was time that could be spent working, perfecting, editing. And if it was not spent in that way, it was time wasted. Simple as that. Inadvertently, you became a lethal collaborator of the very cycle you dreaded waking up for the last couple of weeks, and were now in the process of breaking it, twisting it into a downwards spiral. You were aware of this, and yet, you remained passive, dismissing all alarm bells as overdramatization. The increase in cooling coals in your ambitious fire did not phase you, for you decided you had more important things to focus on. Like staring at your emails, unable to conjure a single coherent thought.
The words were swimming in front of you, the caffeine no longer doing anything to serve you. All that was left was the chocolatey aftertaste – you had your coffee snob colleagues to thank for campaigning for having proper beans be ordered, so everyone could travel to faraway places at least through the notes the beverage had, the harvest, taste the sun that blazed down on the rolling hills proudly bearing the farmlands. Only the memory of the dark roast sticking to the roof of your mouth, an unpleasant dryness settling along with the realisation that there was no chance you would be making any more progress. You heaved another displeased sigh, and after rolling your shoulders a couple of times, pressed on the power button, seeing how your distorted reflection appeared before you as the screens went black.
It was easy to imagine ghosts waving you goodbye, as the click-clack of your heels resonated through the main reception on the ground floor of the skyscraper where you were one of the many ants. A lonely security guard stationed by the turnstiles nodded you his farewell, hearing the beep of your id card being accepted. You nodded back. He was one of the more approachable-looking guardians of the money-making machine, you had seen him shake a joke with his fellow suited-up brethren a total of two times and you were not about to discourage yourself with the accompanying thought that you had been working in the company for just over a year now. You have not had the share of your favourite megawatt grins that would have dispelled your grim disposition, so every bit of negativity had to be treated with caution. You were a ballistic missile being transported in a rickety mule-drawn cart with one wheel falling off. Bit by bit. Step by step. You just needed an uneventful commute home, so you could collapse into your bed and forget about today, until tomorrow would inevitably remind you, and so the loop would start again.
But there it was. The cherry on top of the disgusting cake. Of course, the weather had to fit the atrocious mood. Even though your calendar explicitly stated spring, and you had been more than excited to welcome the longer days and the blooming trees and bushes, the temperamental elements were bestowed upon you as what could only be an evil prank. A cocktail of clumped up snowflakes and icy cold rain beating down on the side walk, the light emanating from a nearby streetlight gaining the appearance of static due to the rapidly cutting streaks. You cursed under your breath, already saying goodbye to your felt trench coat and blaming yourself for being too optimistic and not metaphorically gluing an umbrella to your hand. It was difficult to hold the tears that began to well up and inevitably blur your vision, turning the puddles and buildings into an urban soup. You had always wanted to see yourself as strong, or at least strong enough to be able to sustain yourself and be proud of your perseverance. But as you stood there, a stride away from being soaked by the downpour, you were trying to accept that you were fated to be ‘that one passenger’ on the metro, wavelengths of stress and misery vibrating out of you. The passenger who would have everyone sitting as far as possible and obviously concerned. You looked down, watching a stray shiny wrapper float down to the curb on a stream of water, stopping once it reached the sewage drain and the holes ended up being too small. Your hands clenched into weak fists, and you trembled, the nervous lump in your throat becoming painfully noticeable and spurring on a growing flood of apprehension. Under the stormy night sky you were so small. A tiny dot that would not leave as much as a footprint, insignificant against the menacing, ceaselessly falling drops of water, like a barrage of nature’s heavy artillery. As you were about you turn up the collar of your coat in attempt to do something, anything to protect you against the rain that you were about to step into, a voice called out, in part muted by the battering of concrete, but you would still recognise it anywhere.
“Would be cool if you could answer your phone sometimes.” Your head turned sharply to the right, in the direction from which you heard the sweet, deeper set tone.
Face slightly obscured by the edge of the huge umbrella that was loyally protecting him, there, approaching you, ambled the man who you would not dare expect to spontaneously visit you. Sure, you had your share of fantasies about how it would be like to have your boyfriend pick you up from work, or to meet up for lunch together, but both you and Yunho had phenomenally chaotic work schedules, and even calls lasting for longer than five minutes had to be planned well in advance. And while you were over the moon when you could spend time with him, the recent scarcity had led into a mounting pressure for you, to maintain a lighthearted disposition, to not let your troubles interfere with him and his life outside of a busy, demanding career. While that could have been your pride talking since such an approach took courage, your comfort was not at the forefront of your mind when you chose to not tell the full story to Yunho, when you faked a smile and covered the bags under your eyes.
"You know I can't use my phone in the office." You huffed, stuffing your hands into your pockets and feeling for the device, which you preferred to keep on do not disturb unless you knew someone was meant to be contacting you.
"Well, you are not in the office anymore, Y/N. But it’s alright, I completely get you. It’s late enough for you to not even bother with it until tomorrow, honestly." Your boyfriend shrugged his shoulders, and as he joined you under the roofing that protected the entrance from the mid-March cries of winter, he lowered and folded the black umbrella, revealing himself entirely to the streetlamp, and dim light emanating from the glass that guarded the reception area. You took in his divinely sculpted form, his smiling eyes and lips, and, in shock, realised that it had been far too long since you had seen this wondrous man in person.
He was dressed as though he had just stepped out of the dance studio, which, knowing Yunho, he very much might have. A beige hoodie, black tracksuit bottoms and some dual-toned sneakers to tie everything together he looked dangerously cuddly, which only further agitated you. Why did he have to come here without warning? Why did your ray of sunshine have to show up when you were nothing but a seething, thunderous raincloud?
"Thanks, Yun. But how and why are you here, exactly?" you did not mean to sound irritated, but your spent nerves were getting the best of you and took control of your speech. Yunho quirked an eyebrow but dismissed his perplexity in favour of lightening the atmosphere and cheering you up.
"My spidey senses told me you might need a knight in a shining automobile. And judging by how you don't have an umbrella, I think I'm right."
It was much more than just the lack of an umbrella; at your happiest, you were the type of person who would sing in the rain. It was the awkward hours at which you responded to his texts, the evident struggle you went through to keep your eyes open whenever you two would video call after work, but most of all it was how you so obviously held information back from Yunho that prompted him to approach his manager and carve out the time he otherwise would not have. If there was anything he learned over the half a year, and counting, of your relationship, was that you were a fighter, much like him - an energiser to a fault. You would give, give and give some more until there was nothing left for you, and then would lead yourself into the illusion that you were just being lazy when you were actually falling apart. You were putting on a brave, calm and collected face, and your hesitation to drop the mask in front of him was unnerving. If there was anyone in your present life who should be your pillar of support, a person you could trust, depend on, lean on be it emotionally or physically, it should be him. In Yunho's eyes, work and some pre-determined timetable was always adjustable when a loved one was in trouble, and hell, you were of the same opinion: when it came to racing across the city in the middle of the night just because he hinted at the fact that he had sustained an injury, you would stop the universe. So why did you not consider the basic healthy principle as something that was not applicable to you?
"But aren't you busy?" your inquiry sounded rhetorical. As though you had already formulated an answer for yourself and were unwilling to accept any other. To be frank, yes, Yunho was busy. So were you. Such was life. However, this element of your lives did not define you, nor did it imply having to take a secondary position in another’s life. Yunho shook his head, stepping closer to you until your arms were almost brushing.
There was a melancholic air to you. Days passing in minor chords, accumulating into a tune, then a song, then a symphony. Your sonata filled with dreams falling flat, and sharp comments forcing you to adjust your dynamics and rhythm. Yunho had fallen in love with the beautiful music of your heart – a beacon of kindness, selflessness and positivity, you had always been the first to encourage him, sometimes messaging or calling him before his members even had a chance to turn in his direction to wish him luck. An innate, deeper sense of what was around you, Yunho noticed time and time again how you elegantly navigated social landscapes, reading people, places and striving to simply do what was best for the situation you faced. You were one to intuitively know something was going on before it could even have the chance to consciously register.
But that also made you prone to wearing yourself out. Sacrificing yourself for those who did not deserve it, and not leaving enough to perform even the most basic human functions. Your boyfriend was always in awe of you, and how you could possibly have so much love contained in your body. As he gazed at your form while you rocked back and forth on your feet – a habitual action that he had realised was one of the most telling signs for your worry bubbling over, the strong urge to erase whatever parasitic dissonance was taking up space in your magnificent mind grew and grew until he could not resist to take your hand in his, smiling when he noticed your lips curl into the ghost of a smile as your fingers intertwined.
"Not busy to love you. No come on, let's get you home, you spent enough time in the glass box as is." He tugged on your hand, ready to open the umbrella again to lead you to the car he had parked around the corner, but you would not budge.
"I swear you had prac-"
"I am here. Okay? Here, now." He desperately wanted to bring you back into the present. What was outside of your control, and was not your decision to make should not preoccupy you, and yet if you caught onto as much as a hint of being the source of inconvenience for another, it sent you into a grim spiral. Not this time, Yunho was not going to let you keep doing this to yourself, even if it took a lifetime.
"It must have taken you so long to get here I-" your voice was growing quieter and quieter as you focused on the sensation of Yunho’s warm hand pressed against yours.
You had not realised how much you missed the feeling, and the reassurance that came with it. He was here, indeed. He was here with you. He was there for you. You raised your head as soon as he squeezed your hand a couple of times but struggled to maintain eye contact due to the evident concern written in his glimmering orbs. The tender, compassionate eyes, irises a dark mahogany hue, a safe haven in your hardship. You wished you could fall into those pools and drift into the blissful serenity they offered. At the same time, it was terrifying how he was peering right into your soul, making it seem as if your vulnerabilities were right there, on display, just for him. A shiver ran down your spine despite the layers you were wearing.
"If you checked your phone, you would now that my schedule changed." He commented, gleaming.
"Oh, so you are saying I'm wrong for worrying now?" you tried to pry yourself away, but Yunho strengthened his grip. He was not about to let you float into that headspace again.
"I don’t mean to make you angry here, just pointing a thing out." Voice level, the dulcet timbre silently posed a question to you – what was the rush? Why were you trying to run from affection?
"I am not angry! Just why is it that out of the blue you decide to appear? I would have been fine-"
"What, have other plans?"
"Uh, no? Going home?"
"So, what is there to stop me from popping by to see my girlfriend?” he pursed his lips, pulling you towards him so that you were facing him directly. Spontaneously interested in everything but his piercing scrutiny, you took to studying the white drawstrings of his hoodie.
"But… uh… well… There is like, a lot happening right now, isn’t there? For both of us? I mean… you have all that filming to do, the comeback to prepare for… you literally just came back from tour and…” you caught yourself rambling, and trailed off into the sound of rainfall.
"Hm. Figured."
Yunho nodded to himself, clicking the tip of his umbrella against the ground as though dotting a full stop on a page. Confused, you attempted to prompt him for an elaboration.
"Excuse me?"
"That you are burned out."
The phrase was a scalding hot iron thrown at the barriers you had painstakingly been building around your mind palace. You knew that it was true. Hell, if someone had just asked you to speak the truth about what you were feeling, this was the first thing that would come to mind, but were you going to say it? No. Never. What you were feeling and what influenced you was nobody else’s problem.
"Am not." It was childish, but it was the only response you could conjure without making tears well up in your eyes. Yunho was too close, too attentive, too much for your distressed and hurt heart.
"Are too."
"Look I am fine. There is nothing-” you peered at the darkness on the other side of the street. Tuned into the rustling of the trees that lined it, and wished for yourself to become part of the scenery instead of having to confront what Yunho was trying to get you to admit.
“You said there is a lot happening for both of us, and then you just list things off about me,” he was not going to let you go this easily, both in discussion and physically as he removed his hand from yours and instead placed it on your waist, “I am perfectly aware of them. I know my limits, and I know that I am managing fine only because I am honoured to have so many people supporting me. And now, I want one of these people to tell me what this ‘a lot’ means to them, and why they are now looking in the other direction.”
Your head snapped back to Yunho, revealing your misty-eyed state. Immediately, his expression softened, and he pulled you in, keeping you flush against his chest as he absent-mindedly rubbed your back with his thumb, while his other hand was keeping the wet umbrella a safe distance away from your clothing. You bit your lip as you took in Yunho’s comforting scent. He never wore any particular perfume, instead opting to smell like a mixture of fresh laundry and a miniscule hint of soap. And yet, if you could bottle this and keep it, you would in a heartbeat. To you, this was what the aroma of home, of safety was. If he wished to make you unravel your ball of troubles, this was the way to do it, you confirmed as you felt yourself automatically melt into his touch, blinking away tears that you were tired of holding. Not exactly aligned with your scheduled ‘half an hour of breaking down when you get to your apartment’, but who were you to complain about Yunho staying here with you, in the cold, adamant on defeating your inner voice that otherwise would have led you into a further darkness.  
"Let's continue this in the car, yeah?" His voice wavered, dropping into the softest whisper which jolted you out of your guards entirely, and you let yourself be guided by him to his car.
As you ambled, side by side, you were enveloped in a total silence, the raindrops forming an abstract beat on the umbrella above you. Arm around you, fingers landing just under your shoulder, Yunho was afraid of letting you go even for an instant, the fragility in your steps and fumbling for a response as he asked if his hold felt alright for you exposing your inner dejection. And once he had you and him settled in the front and driver’s seats respectively, he put the key into ignition, but did not turn it just yet. As the rain painted a blurry masterpiece on the windshield, he tilted his head, and looked at you.
“Tell me about your day.” A simple ask, but to you it felt like one of those unsolvable mathematics problems. You could lie, and on any other occasion you probably would with a classic ‘I’m fine thank you and you’, but you would be foolish to think that Yunho would buy that. If anything, he would explicitly label the nonsense for what it was and encourage you to give him a real answer with nothing but those gorgeous, hopeful eyes of his.
“It was… you know what, it was a lot. Too much even. Really, the last couple of weeks have been too much.” You uttered, annoyance starting to boil within you as you recalled the rollercoaster of events.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t want to weigh you don’t with it. Really, this is nothing. It will pass.” You fiddled with the buttons on the blazer, now within reach as you had unzipped your coat. Though your words were grammatically correct, nothing made sense to you. What was it that you were saying? Learned phrased out of the automatic deflection compartment, lines of defence in an effort to avoid discussion.
“Then why are you giving it so much power?” Yunho persisted.
“Uh… I don’t know, maybe because it is my job?”
“So, you get paid to have burn outs?” while he asked this in a joking manner, his smile did not spread past a brief flash. When you did not send a retort in his direction, he motioned for you to continue. You hated to admit it, but you agreed. As of late, this was exactly what your job had turned into. You being a hamster stuck in a wheel, running ceaselessly with no rest breaks in sight. Running in the hopes of there being a finish line. A success. A milestone. But all there seemed to be was more paperwork, more reporting, more meetings, more conflict, and more doubt.
“Well, now that you say that…”
“I am not one to judge professional choices and perfectionism. In fact, I respect you so much for being so dedicated, and being such a hard worker. But a siren is going off right now, okay? You are on the edge of a cliff, and we do not want you to fall off it, yeah?”
“What cliff?”
“I am an idiot for not picking up on this sooner, but now that I have, I must tell you: you are being pushed way past your limit, and you need a break. It is basically doctor’s orders.”
“But it’s just wo-”
“Tell me, what was the last thing one of your colleagues had said to you? About your work?” Yunho was no stranger to office gossip, through you having occasionally divulged to him the drama occurring in your workplace, and through the myriad of dramas he had watched with you and noticed that you often reacted to what was happening on screen as if it hit very close to home.
“Uhm… but it was not a nice thing so…”
“Say it.” Interest turned into a demand, and Yunho leaned closer to you.
“I only overheard it…”
“And? You still heard it.” Dropping his voice low, he rejected your subconscious devaluing of what had obviously been harm incurred.
“That I was trying too hard to please my boss…” a mumble escaped you, followed by a ragged sigh. Why was this so hard?
“That is fucked up.”
“…even though I was literally just doing my job. I was asked to do this report and all there was that was extra to it was me wanting to make it look pretty.” While you were not saying anything particularly heart-breaking, at least not by your definition, you choked up and had to force each word out with the strength you had left.
“I swear, humans are strange creatures,” Yunho mused out loud before chuckling, “says I, a human.”
“But that’s exactly why you can say it. And besides, you are a thoughtful human. Pretty much a blessing, Yunho. So don’t even.” Finally, a genuine grin graced your features, reminiscent of the first rays of sunlight after a merciless storm. Basking in the glow, Yunho returned it twofold and proudly wore the blush that started to rise on his cheeks. But he knew better than abandoning his mission so early on.
“Not to be cringe or anything, but to hear that coming from an angel is quite the honour.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you laughed airily. But the moment, unfortunately, did not last long, and your day was once more overcast by rumination. Yunho did not speak, waiting for you to give him as much detail as you felt comfortable with sharing.
“Sometimes, even if I am trying my hardest, I get this sense that I might be better off shutting up and giving the others the reins.”
“So, they are disrespecting their own manager?”
“I guess it's because I am younger than them or something. I mean, I get it, it is a gnarly economic period for the company, and everyone is losing their marbles, trying to stay above the water, but it would be good if they at least took my advice into consideration.”
If looks could destroy, then the glare that Yunho sent your office building would have set it ablaze. To curb his anger, he drummed out an abstract pattern on the steering wheel, though the grip that followed it told all. He blamed himself for not having been there sooner. For letting this pain pile on until it turned to a ball and chain that progressively set out to ruin what had been your dream career. If only it was as easy to wipe away cutting words and agonising actions like faint graphite etchings on a piece of paper.
“They should know their place, that’s what," he hissed, giving the wheel one final thump before pushing himself into his seat and turning to you, "You are being too soft on them, in my opinion. And that is why they are acting out. Promise me this, you will show them that you are a frontline manager, and you are more than capable of keeping things under control-”
“I’m trying-”
“-by taking a break. People can sense weakness, especially people who are not so kind to you. And while I cannot fix their attitude, I can try my best to help you. And before you say it, you are not coming into the office on the weekend, I am booking you up.”
"How do you know I do that?"
"Over the months of video calls you really think I did not memorise that one conference room you use to call me?" He shot back, smirking as you were at a loss, the only option being to roll your eyes and give yourself up to a legally mandated holiday.
“Yunho, you are too selfless, please, I just need a couple more hours of sleep and I’ll be all sorted."
“No, I will be selfish and take care of you. So, sit back, relax, and think of happy things. And that’s an order.”
“But that is not how selfish works?”
“It does in our world. Besides, don't you want to show them who is the boss?" The cheeky boyish grin won you over, and you beamed, whispering an amused:
"Unbelievable..."
Falling in love with Yunho did not give you butterflies in your stomach. If anything, it calmed the anxious knots that accumulated over however long the time between you being in each other's presence was. Sure, you would be okay without one another. Living life, achieving what you wanted to achieve. Brought down by the gloomy days but rising again. But together, those days were just so much less gloomy. The, what could only be described as innate, trust that you had formed in one another, was the invisible string tying you together in the gift that was your present. Falling and being in love with Yunho was like a warm day in the spring, a promise for new life, for blue skies and for a warm breeze caressing the blossoms of affection. It was like the starry night sky in the early summer, with you and him sitting on the rooftop of the apartment building where you lived, on an old bed sheet because you were yet to invest in a proper picnic blanket, but still the happiest people in the world.
As he closed the gap between you, running his fingers over your jawline before cupping your face to get a better angle, you closed your eyes and gave into the adoration that emanated from him. In the subtlest of gestures, in the sentimentality that translated into him understanding you better than how you understood yourself, he was every bit a man head over heels in love. And while either of you were yet to say the words, each action and inaction both screamed it. Perhaps it was something more than love. A proximity of the souls that was built in the quietude, in the shadows of an emotional flurry. In the hustle and bustle of common terminology, labels and anniversaries, a little world that could only come into existence with genuine intent and care became a reality. This cozy corner that housed only you and Yunho. 'Did you eat?', 'I will take care of you', 'I'm outside with medicine' were all manifestations of this unspoken devotion. And as he placed one final kiss on your rosy lips before starting up the car, you were entertained by the fascinating coincidence in the only term you could think of to describe this feeling being the exact same as your boyfriend's surname.
Flickering lights, neon signs and a revelation that the cycle could stop. Though you were on the verge of somnolence, barely resisting drowsiness settling on your eyelids like the snowflakes outside, you watched as Yunho masterfully spun the steering wheel while singing a melody which you recognised to be Standing Egg's Starry Night, one which you had made him repeat again and again as soon as you had heard it once. Upon noticing your gaze resting on him, he broke into a chuckle and fell quiet until the next red light.
"Mmm, why did you stop?" You asked and pouted, glancing at Yunho's arm as he pulled on the handbrake.
"Because I want to look at you as I sing it:
Here we are close to star
I want to stay with you forever like this
Here we are close to star
The endless starry sky and you and me..."
As he sang, in the air hung a promise. One which you did not need for him to say out loud to understand, for more often than not, the feeling itself was the true, and magical meaning.
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hwaightme · 6 days
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Like the cherry blossom falls
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🌸 pairing: yunho x gn!reader 🌸 genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, naturalism/slice of life 🌸 summary: every spring is a beginning, and you cannot imagine it without jeong yunho, your friend through the many years. but as the cherry blossoms fall, what will happen when you fall the same? 🌸 wordcount: 5.3k 🌸 warnings/tags: language, memories, mutual pining, from school to college, a lot of spring musings, barely edited mention of food/eating, banter between friends, mention of exams, waiting for love, discussion of love, time, hope 🌸 taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts 🌸 a/n: happy yunho day! our ray of sun, our spring day, the one who gives and works so hard... thank you for everything you do, and wishing you the brightest, happiest days filled with love to come <3 much love, big hugs, all reblogs, notes, comments welcome <3
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It was the first warm day in spring. The breeze, which gently tousled your locks and made the bright green trees rustle, was still a little cool – the breath of nature after months of slumber, tucked under a snow-white blanket. The sun rays caressed your skin like a sweet embrace and turned the young flora into a glistening, gold toned paradise. It was a time for new beginnings, a time when dreams felt so marvelously within reach, and daily routines transformed into a pleasant waltzing sequence.
This bright spring day compelled one to metamorphose and take on change with newfound vigour – as you took in your surroundings, even though you were tucked away out of the action, sticking to the sitting area outside of your beloved convenience store, you could feel this energy buzzing all around. The enthusiastic chatter of locals resting under flourishing tree canopies, small groups ambling next to the picturesque riverbank, tired, but satisfied smiles on their faces, in wait for the offerings that the coming hours, days, weeks would undoubtedly bring. 
Your decision to move to Seoul for your studies had been nothing short of awe-inspiring – a gift that kept on giving. And any time you felt like you could not go on, and the gloomy weather settled into your heart and clouded your mind, you would remember the tranquil spring days which had been there for you through thick and thin, since the very beginning. Just like the dancing cherry blossom petals soaring into the skies after a mischievous gust of wind would invite them for a twirl, your worries would dissipate and join the floral confetti, nothing more than memories dotting your vision. Full stops over which you stepped towards another season.
This breeze that spurred you on, encouraged you, kept you going and became your pair of wings throughout your life took on many forms. One, the most important of all, was in the form of a boy, now a man who had grown from pulling your hair for fun to now making your heart flutter. The man who had just so happened to inadvertently plan his near future with you and made the choice to follow you to the big city. The man who was sitting across from you, his brown doe eyes glinting with gold from the sun that filtered through one of the pink-hued trees, it having left a gift atop his crown of dark, lustrous hair in the form of one petal. You were not exactly sure how you got here, and how the years had only made you closer, but you would not trade it for the world.
A tranquil late afternoon by the peacefully meandering river, cheeks stuffed with cheap ramen that tasted like memories and a hope for forever, tears springing to your eyes as you struggled to not burst out laughing while your best friend imitated one of your lecturers. His mischief and boyish eagerness to elicit the biggest reaction from you was enough to make your heart hurt, and the way he had to splay his legs out in order to not fall from the flimsy plastic chair – your spot outside the convenience store that had become your shared safe haven, was simply endearing. It was impossible to ever get tired of the radiance, the unfiltered, puppy-like energy that this wonderful man who you had the honour of having in your life exuded.
Had anyone told you five years ago, let alone ten that you would be in love with Jeong Yunho you would have laughed in the poor messenger’s face. Your shared path with him was more accidental than anything. Similar journeys home, similar interests. Even answering the question of how, or when you had become friends perplexed you to this day, with you being unable to pinpoint a specific moment. Sometimes, in him you still saw the excited school kid, clad in a crisp ironed navy uniform, running towards you to show off a particularly cool stick that was totally shaped like a laser gun from an anime, or the kid who dragged you to the arcade as soon as lessons finished. But with one spring replacing another, and with each new refreshed blanket of pink on the ground appearing more gorgeous than before, an innate, growing longing bloomed in your chest. And thus, you had come to treat what you had previously deemed an accident, a mistake or a coincidence as serendipity.
As your gaze followed the stubborn petal, Yunho’s movements grounded to a halt until he was staring right back at you, confusion written across his features.
“Hey, I’m not explaining maths or anything, why so spaced out?”
“Hm? No, I’m not spacing out… Actually, this will keep on bothering me, wait-” your body moved on its own accord as you set down your chopsticks and the foil which you had folded into a makeshift bowl onto some plastic packaging. Leaning over the table, you gingerly pinched the spring snowflake and held it out for Yunho to observe, smiling softly as he lifted one of his hands and cradled it.
“Well, would you look at that! I had a little hat on and didn’t even know about it!” and just like that, the petal ended up on your friend’s hair once again, only this time it was hanging on for all its worth as he launched into a seated fashion show, hands on hips and flaunting the new look. “So, how is it?”
“Stunning. Immaculate drip.” You responded without missing a beat and raised your eyebrows once in approval.
Yunho chuckled, picking off the petal and letting it fall onto the table, landing right by his bottle of water. He took his time with lifting his eyes to meet yours, wondering if the outwardly comical statement contained any element of appreciation. For as long as he had known you, there was one thing that remained constant, and that was that you were someone who was immensely challenging to learn and read, unless you openly wished for it to happen. But he would be lying if he said that it was not enthralling. As he let the breeze cool his lightly blushing cheeks – something of a permanent installation when he was around you, Yunho placed his elbows onto the table and cradled his head in his hands.
“Now you have to sign an NDA, you’ve seen the new spring collection.” He joked, a nod to the job that you had taken on prior to the start of the academic year, which had resulted in many midnight coffee runs, one conversation after another of Yunho keeping you sane enough to last until the end of particularly exhausting days, and a revelation that what you had been feeling was indeed, not an illusion. Fortunately for you, while you were afraid of misinterpretation, you sensed that what you had come to realise only now might just be reciprocated.
“Oh gosh one more mention of that and I will scream.” You shook your head, and dramatically stretched out your arm to lie on the table, hair cascading over the sleeve as a jacket, cushioning your temple. While the situation behind Yunho’s words was less than pleasant, he made it sweet by preserving it – like a pressed flower or leaf in a book, he kept a precious collection of your and his happenings. Yunho had a talent for remembering anything and everything that you shared with him, to the point where you were certain that there were a number of events that he probably could recall much better than you ever could.
“Come on, your internship wasn’t that bad.” a chuckle, a gentle tap on your hand that lasted a little too long, giving you ample opportunity to muster some courage and grasp at his jacket’s sleeve to prevent him from breaking contact. The barely audible gasp, replaced by a bashful silence and a return of the pressure of his hand on your forearm was confirmation enough that your spontaneity was right. Nonchalant, you continued.
“Except that it was like I was stranded in a deathmatch at the hardest possible level, overwhelmed inside, disconnected from outside.”
“I mean… in principle… that means you reached the match and hey, normally those maps are cool?” he seemed to have returned from his daze in record speed, though beaming a little brighter and perky from the game reference.
“So was that place… until- ah, too gloomy.” You attempted to lift yourself up, but one glance to Yunho’s resting hand had you forgetting that idea altogether, so you settled for a simple raising of the head, “Whatever, you heard me rant about all of this anyways. Let’s discuss the quality style instead.”
The action made Yunho retract nonetheless – ever so polite, and so you took to keeping your head in one hand, admiring your friend through blissful, lenses the colour of cherry blossoms. You noted how Yunho moved the feast that you had bought further away, and turned so that you would be facing each other directly.
“Yes please, I will have to ask you to expand on that wonderful statement.” He winked: a lighthearted ruse to keep himself together and not give away the kind of effect that you had on him.
“I am this close to taking my words back.” Almost pinching your thumb and index finger together, you shot back.
“Nuh-huh, I wore my special denim jacket today you can’t do this.”
“Yes, I can. And can remind you of your much more iconic looks.”
“Curious. Which one?” as soon as the question left him, you languidly pushed yourself from the metal, and leaned in close, closer, and closer until you were the reason for Yunho being on the verge of short circuiting. You were rarely this forward; any semblance to seeking contact was the odd accidental brush as you would walk side by side, but this, this was something else entirely and he was not prepared. If anything, this was reminiscent of what his imagination would conjure – so far removed from common reality that he was thinking spring itself was playing tricks.
“You… wrapped up…” your voice dropped into a whisper, and Yunho held his breath in trepidation, “in a duvet at the library.”
It was surprising just how much relief an unexpected humorous memory could bring. Recalling the basic fact that he was a human, and that he was to be socially appropriate even around the closest, most precious person in his life, he let out a sharp exhale and an airy chuckle. At least he had the time you were inferring as clear as day in his brain.
“Ah, you mean the time you were wearing the fuzzy onesie?”
“It was-”
“-finals week. Second year. We really popped off on those fits.” He completed your sentence smugly. Any other time, he would have probably crossed his arms or raised them up in a mock victory, but you kept him frozen in place.
A quietude washed over you. Muted, mutual reminiscing. Time to relive what had been, turning into awe at the fact that in the flurry of ponderings, of long gone snippets that twirled around in your mind palace, most were with this beautiful man.
“Yeah.” “Yeah.”
Was all either of you could utter, before falling back into an expectant silence. There was always a shift between the winter and spring, at least that was how you liked to describe it. It was in the scent that graced your room as soon as you opened the window. It was in the longer days, with somnolent darkness being replaced by a budding brilliance, reflecting in soft leaf buds and the beginnings of pollen – nature’s fairy dust. And just like this, from the slumber of a comfortable, amiable and cosy winter time, a shift between you and Yunho could be detected. On the first warm day in spring, as the blossoms rained down, the petal that was on your table now rejoicing upon having found an adventurous companion that landed only millimetres away. While you could never answer the question of how you got so lucky to have Yunho, you were inspired to guess how the continuation of what you had could unfold, if you wished for this flower to bloom and meet the coming seasons. The mere notion made you feel warm, unlike the rapidly cooling ramen that you were unlikely to return to any time soon. Last wisps of steam were escaping the containers, along with the illusion that this spring was to be just like any other.
“By the way, just for the record, banter aside, you do look really good, okay?”
He wanted to poke fun at you for your habit of playfully attacking and then immediately falling back into a truce – fearful of the possibility that you had hurt your interlocutor’s feelings, but found it to be too endearing to ever comment on. It was normally the time when you were most vulnerable, and the time when you had let most of your true feelings slip through your friendly, yet naturally reserved demeanour. Your expression was unreadable, but there was a tantalising tension that was luring him in. Suddenly, the table was very much in Yunho’s way, and led him to spontaneously rise from his chair, pick it up, flinching as he overestimated the weight and nearly hit himself with the back, and step around the picnic table to set it down next to you. You raised an eyebrow, puzzled, but your intuition was good enough to figure out the response, so you simply seized the chance to give your secret everything a onceover, as if you were seeking confirmation for the statement that had already been established in unwavering truth.
“It’s the jacket you picked out, so of course. But thank you.” Deflecting the generalisation, Yunho focused on the article of clothing, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink as he inspected it.
“Oh? OH! Yeah! I spammed you with the link to it!” you clicked the fingers of your free hand, agreeing.
“Yeah, but it was not on sale then, so I hunted it down until it was.”
“Well damn don’t I have good taste.” You mumbled, questioning your own ambiguity. Did you really mean the jacket?
“Yep, and in people too.” And that was your answer. Yunho mirrored you, setting an elbow on the table, a gleam dancing on his lips.
“How sneaky! But you do have a very good point, the universe did do good on this one.”
Unable to refrain from the gesture, you reached out to pat the top of his head. It must had been somewhere in the beginning of high school that Yunho became known as the ‘golden retriever’ type, the puppy boy, the energiser. And right about then, you had started to find immense joy in ruffling his hair, be it to praise, or in encouragement, or just because you had not done it in a long time. And while he would normally pout or roll his eyes, not once did he not tilt his head into the sensation. As you took your hand away, you noticed that he intuitively followed. A smile settled on your features as you sank into the indescribable unity. Not needing words to communicate, you sank into his dark orbs, their magnificent glint shining brighter for you than the afternoon sun and the glittering river.
Had you not been looking so intently at him, and had he been able to take his own eyes away, Yunho would have been pinching himself repeatedly to gain confidence that this was all real. You were the one who he had always quietly admired, the one who he always spotted in a crowd, his desire to achieve, to try his best, his confidence and his blue sky. You were the reason why he had so much focus. He had never experienced the tumultuous feverish youthful love – it was easy when only one person could ever be his motivation, inspiration, the keeper of his adoration. He tried to be with other people, tried to be close with other people. But that was all it was, some ‘other’, when all that mattered was ‘you’.
If one were to assess his situation objectively, Yunho’s feelings towards you were ridiculous. A mess of emotion that he could never untie, the beginning of the knot having faded into a distant oblivion, and him having no intentions of ever tearing the threads apart. Having only ever been acquaintances, friends, best friends, he had no foundation to build his romantic feelings on, at least that was what he repeatedly told himself, and yet, here he was, years deep and pining like a fool.
The spring only made him reminisce about how his feelings had grown in the shade of his turbulent, busy life, amongst the daily worries and a packed schedule, budding flower rising through the cracks to turn into a garden in his psyche. He almost did not want to unlock its gates out of fear that the beauty he had cultivated would be dispelled, and, considering you and him having your respective dreams and aspirations, he had previously felt it would be unjust to impose himself upon you. But much like the cherry blossoms that twirled and fell to the ground that still retained some of the February chill, he only fell deeper, and if he did not make the decision for himself, the garden would do it for him and more and eventually, the flowers of his fascination would consume him whole.
“Do you remember how we met?”
“Why are you asking me this out of the blue?” when you only received a motion with the chin to proceed, you pretended as if you were trying to remember, “That was so long ago-”
“But do you?” he persisted, frustrated at having to drag the answer out of you.
“Do I… Honestly? No. I tried to remember but my mind draws a blank.”
Just as he was expecting, middle school was one big void, out of which only one constant remained, and that one constant was currently stifling a chuckle. It never failed to amaze Yunho how you could quote show after show, novel after novel, occasionally refer him to a particular page in a textbook because, apparently ‘the shape of the text was kind of funny so it stuck in your head’, but when it came to people, you drew a blank. Maybe it was just him. Or at least that was the part that hurt him, and the part that he needed to bring to light if he was going to lay all his card out on the table and risk your friendship.
“Classic, Y/N, classic.”
“Well you are my brain cell after all. An unhinged one that has long lunch breaks, but I’m taking what I can get.”
“That is an interesting way to compliment.”
“And I have heard you on voice chat on Valorant so I think we are pretty even.”
Whether it was his nerves or his infatuation that made him so easily affected by you, he could not tell, but the comment was enough to make him break into a fit of giggles, calmed down only by him massaging the back of his neck and reclining into his chair to collect his thoughts. If he were to be any closer to you physically, he was not confident in how he would act. Narrowing your eyes, you detected the change in his behaviour, the subtle tint of worry, and bit back any remarks.
“Fair. But now, no laughing, okay?”
“Okay? That is ominous, but… go for it?”
Everything had gained an unexpected loudness. From the colours that you were bathed in to the symphony of sound that accompanied your conversation, your heart was accelerating. Finely attuned to a series of delighted shouts from afar – a pair of teens strolling down the pathway at the riverbank, you imagined it to be you and Yunho. In fact, that had been you and Yunho back in your hometown. While you could not pinpoint quantitatively, with ease you recollected the warmth. The giddiness of youth that had gradually matured into being each other’s number one fans. Much like those adolescents by the Han River, you had given each other pep talks, screamed your heads off for therapeutic reasons, and watched the sun lazily move across the sky, waving you goodbye as you entered first school, then university.
It was with Yunho that you understood the idea of someone becoming something like a limb. Or a part of your identity. It was so easy being with Yunho, that you simply forgot how time passed. Much like how one was not conscious of when they were using their hand, instead focusing on the words typed out on a phone screen, you had experienced life with, and through Yunho. He was always there – a constant in the chaos, and without being aware of it, you had flourished independently thanks to him believing that you could. The one supporter of your radical ideas. Number one fan. Reassuring you through actions time and time again that he was always ready to help, and you could only hope that you had done the same.
“So… um… Y/N.”
“Are you about to give me a speech?” you interjected, making the young man whine.
“Shut up for a second I am processing at high speeds here.”
“Okay, okay.” You at upright, placing your hands on the armrests, as though you were about to stand up. Perhaps it was to be the case, as you could barely hear Yunho over the sound of your pulse in your ears.
“Anyways, as I was saying. Y/N. We didn’t exactly meet. We uh… well I ran into someone, and you were walking by. At least that is how I see it.”
Yunho’s eyes fluttered shut as he visualised the scene in front of him. The chase, the hit, the whistle of the referee. How just as he was trying to stand up, a girl his age, one he had seen sitting on the other side of the classroom, was already rushing towards him and yelling that he should stop moving or his injuries will get worse.
“Huh?”
“That time, I was in football practice and decided to, you know, touch some grass quite literally, but didn’t realise that grass and gravel would give pretty nasty cuts.”
“And?”
“You gave me cool band aids.”
“Huh? Did I?”
“Yeah, it had like… superheroes on it and stuff. So, needless to say you got instant respect from me.” That interaction gave him band aids, a packet of wet wipes and an interest in you that he struggled to resist. As you left the field, he had watched the charm on your backpack swaying back and forth, a pendulum hypnotising him.
“Glad to know… Is that the whole meeting?” you asked, Yunho’s certain delivery and courage making you cower.
“Let me continue. Okay, going from there, you also shut down some rumours basically at their source. Oh, and you had brought me homework and notes for two weeks straight while I was sick.”
“You lived nearby so it made sense to do-” putting one of his hands over yours was only natural, and any prior tentativeness had dissipated.
“And let me say, this is all in the span of one term. One school term. Just freshly started the school year and you’re out here being cute and shit and then totally oblivious.” His speech accelerated to the degree that you wanted to remind him that he was not presenting in class and fighting a time limit. If he were to take the step forward, he needed to be sure that this was what he wanted. The wind picked up its pace, and the trees shuddered.
“What are you getting at?” to encourage him, you flipped your hand around and intertwined your fingers with his, the action sending something reminiscent of an electric shock through your system. But you were not about to expose your exhilaration.
“Mmm… I think you know.” He shied away, gawking at the palms pressed together as though it was a work of art. You did the same, though managed to utter:
“I might do but finish your point.” Yunho huffed in agreement and squeezed a couple of times, confirming that this was real.
“So, you tell me that you don’t deserve my help or that I do too much right?” a new wave of passion flared up in his tone, demanding your attention. The rays that melt away the winter chill prevalent in the voice, any argument not feasible. However, you were not one to not try leaving your two cents, especially not when you could count the number of barriers and filters that you relied on dropping to an unmistakable zero.
“Yeah, right, because that’s true.”
“No, because that is bullshit. I am basically paying you back, and never will be able to. Because you have given me nothing but kindness. And every single bit is like a petal.” Words spilling over one another, Yunho shared his soul. With one swipe, he picked up a stray petal from the table and lifted it: “Yeah, see? Like this one.” Shaking it a couple of times, he flicked it away to let it spin to join its family on the ground. “And they just keep on falling and falling and falling and falling and I am falling along with them too. These little gestures, how you stayed up to make sure I came back to the dorms safe, how you… seriously it is impossible to list everything okay?!”
It was as if someone had lit a match, and your body contained nothing but gasoline. Your suspicions had been proven right, and the words were heavenly music.
“Wait… come back to the falling part again. As you say. Expand on that?”
“Shit…”
“Now that’s not romantic.”
“Oh, come on.” Yunho tried to pry himself away, awkward laughed bubbling up, but now that he had given you a glimpse into his feelings, you were not about to abandon them – not when he had recounted moments of when your actions were what reached his heart.
“Look, Yunho. We have known each other for long enough to read the vibe. And I can feel that you are terrified. Guess what. I am terrified too. In the same way. So, say it. For both of us.” You peered into his eyes, smiling, relieved that Yunho was more pleased than you imagined he would be.
“How about… we say it on the count of three?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. If we are about to ruin things, then let’s just say we crossed the finish line together.”
Ruin. If there was anything else to ruin, it was only the ramen that was definitely stale and soggy at this point. But love knew no earthly needs, only the game of chance and destiny.
“Well damn, okay. Fine. If that helps you.”
“One, two, three-”
“I like you.” “I like you.” The phrase resonated like a plucked guitar string, two voices turning into one, with neither of you capable of holding back laughter as the three words that previously were an unbearable load now joined the spring air, the vibrancy and rejoicing of nature, carried away by the breeze. Commenting on how both of you went for the safer option, you leaned closer to one another, a magnetism tugging you along.
“You look like you are debating whether to let your now-approved impulsive thoughts win or not.”
“And you look like you really want them to win.”
“You know it.”
“Are you su-”
Yunho’s eyes shot wide open as you leaned in and cut him off by locking your lips with his. Time stood still as he searched for any sign that he was dreaming, alas, none was to be found. It was your plush, rosy lips against his, a perfect harmony. Those lips that he had spent too long staring at, that haunted him, now capturing him whole. The brightest sun in his chest that rivalled the one that left your practically glowing. Relaxing into the newfound heaven, he brushed back a strand and returned the kiss, slowing its pace to a sultry exploration, a worship of the moment that, even compared to the years that had preceded it, was an eternity that he wanted to sink into and never come out of.
“Who’s impulsive now?” only when his, and your lungs were burning for oxygen did you pull away, and were face to face with a goofy, adorable grin, playfully taunting you.
“Not me. I am cool, calm, and calculated.” You replied, your voice still airy.
“And I waited long enough.”
This was you, in plural. Yunho guided you out of the white chairs and stood to wrap an arm around your waist. You had hugged before, as friends. As friends who wanted more. He wanted to scream out at every bird and passer-by that you felt the same as him. Elated, you melted into one another as your lips reconnected, the perfectly connected puzzle pieces. You tasted of memories and a hope for forever – also known as what you had been having for lunch, but suddenly, that interesting flavour choice was his favourite. Your arms snaked around him, and slipped under his jacket to protect themselves from the flurry of flowers. Even when you pulled away, your foreheads remained pressed together, eyelashes almost touching, and you rocked slowly, side to side, in a silent dance. Embraced by the spring of love. Yunho nuzzled into the crook of your neck, enveloping himself in all that was you. More than he could ever have hoped for. You wondered if he would tear up, but instead he mumbled, dumbfounded:
“So, we are like… a thing now.” You snorted, amused at the choice of words.
“Thing.” Yunho raised his head again to give you a worried glance.
“I am so scared to call you my girlfriend, I seriously think you will disappear if I do.” He explained, hugging you tighter.
It was charming, and simple enough to understand. Much like fearing snowfall in the early days of a floral reawakening, he could not bear the possibility of you fading into an extended frost. But now you were certain, that as much as he was your always, you were his. It could be that you had never considered romance before because you had already committed yourselves to one another so early, that they was never time to process. Hence why you judged your shared life only by the constant. By Yunho.
“But I was here the whole time?” you were no fool to believe that this was the same. Even in the year or so that you had carried the burden of hiding adoration, it was only yours to keep. You had been his, just the title and privileges were a little different.
“But now is even better. I get to call you mine officially.” After a pause where he got lost in his musings, he added, with a euphoric grin, “Too early to say I love you?”
“Ten years isn’t enough time?”
“I mean romantically…”
“Kiss me again and say the words, this is a threat.” You whispered, and pulled him in gently, your hands moving forward, and tugging at the collar of his jacket as you close the space once more, entranced by the magic.
Like the cherry blossoms fell around you, you fell for Jeong Yunho, and he for you. Through the years, you had seen one another’s ups, downs, spirals, and lines. You had adored the best and worked through the worst. No matter the season.
Spring was time for new beginnings. And while the comfort, the ease, the person were all the same, the future promised a myriad of fresh pink blossoms, the petals celebrating your new journey.
479 notes · View notes
hwaightme · 7 days
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All of me
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💐 pairing: yunho x f!reader 💐 genre: fluff, marriage au, just love, established relationship 💐 summary: "All of me, loves all of you... Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you..." - All of Me by John Legend; looking over old photographs had never been quite as sweet as this. 💐 wordcount: 3.8k 💐 warnings/tags: weddings, marriage, crying, comfort, yunho is sappy and soft, wedding pictures, literally just a lot of hugs, couple supposed to be adulting but cuddles come first 💐 wordcount: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @izuijin @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 💐 a/n: Hello there, this is the product of having gone totally soft for Yunho (@/senpai-of-doom and @/honey-lemon-goose y'all attacking me with quality fics and @/layzfeelit with Idol Radio goodness and us just fully drifting into Yunho-land). Thank you <3
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“Babe~ Honey~ my LOVE! BABE! BAAABE!” you could barely make out the sound of shouting over the roar of the vacuum cleaner. Assuming the worst, you slammed the power button and dropped the pipe, rushing into the room from where Yunho’s voice had emanated.
“WHAT? What is HAPPENING?” you yelled back and flicked your wrist, action dramatized by the cleaning rag you had instinctively grabbed while in a panicked rush. It was supposed to be cleaning day, but after three years of living together, you should know better than to expect it to go smoothly and for the gentle giant to be obedient enough to complete all the chores without making a comedy show out of it.
Clad in an ancient t-shirt, part of a double set which you had bought on one of your early dates as a joke, track suit bottoms and socks with cartoon golden retrievers, the man, the apple of your eye, was standing in the middle of the living room, grinning and shining like the sun itself. Upon catching the sight of you, he ignored your temporary distress and only smiled with more adoration, stretching his arms out as wide as he could.
“C’mere, Y/N, I miss you.” He asked, clapping his fingers against his palms, beckoning you.
“Oh my word, Yun.”
You rolled your eyes, but in a matter of seconds were wrapped up in your husband's arms. You were surprised that he did not tease you about the atrociously tied bun on the top of your head, one that appeared to be more of a nest than anything, nor the fact that you had, once again, stolen one of his hoodies because ‘you were confident that this particular one matched your leggings the best’. No such thing. You just liked to be enveloped in a hug all day. The real thing was even better, of course, but you had to be functional human beings and go do adult things too, and latching onto one another unfortunately prevented you from achieving that.
“Babe, were you about to… d-rag me?” there it was. No wonder this man was practically best friends with your father. Sense of humour was on par.
You groaned and pulled away from him to give him a playful punch on the upper arm, but soon returned to having both your hands behind his back, grabbing on as tight as you could without tiring yourself. Dropping the rag on the floor, you let your fingers flitter across his tee and give you a better hold.
Cheekily, he stuck his tongue out at you and pulled you in again, cradling you as he rocked gently from side to side. You found comfort in having your head resting against his chest. Nothing else existed in these moments, and any worries that would accumulate evaporated, or appeared so small compared to the undivided attention and love in Yunho’s embrace that you felt invincible. Your arms dropped slightly, drifting to a more relaxed position as you realised that this was one of his ‘long hugs’, and simply sank into the feeling.
He had been awfully giddy and clingy the entire day, actually make that a week, ever since you had attended a wedding of one of your mutual friends. Yunho had almost turned into a blubbering fountain, competing with the grandparents attending, during the event, squeezing your hand until you swore your fingers went numb and you had to pry yourself away to grab the ‘emergency tissue pack’ in your purse and a bottle of water. Showering you in compliments and gazing at you as though it had been your own wedding day, the man who you had the pleasure of saying ‘I do’ to two years ago, made you fall in love again. And again. It was a common occurrence, and happened even if he got competitive and destroyed you in a video game far too many times for you to remain non-aggressive. But the soft cheeks that you just wanted to squish as he grinned at you boyishly were enough to make you forget that you barely knew what button was where on the controller.
As you moved in a slow dance, music remaining in your imagination, you spotted a thick album with a cream cover lying on the coffee table. It bore your names, and had been littered with doodles, stickers and notes that you had made together, having deemed the binding too formal, impersonal and rigid for your shared liking.
“Yun, what’s our wedding album doing out here and not on the shelf?” you questioned, tilting your head to eye Yunho with suspicion. He bit his lip, suddenly having grown shy, and played with the edge of your, technically his, hood.
“Well… I was wiping the dust off, as you instructed, and… I don’t know, it just happened to fly out at me.”
“Fly out, huh?” you chuckled, causing him to give you a small smile in return.
“Yes. On the wings of love.”
“Cheesy.”
“We always ask for extra cheese, hon.”
“True that, but wow that wedding had an effect on you, huh?” you read his actions as though he was an open book, something which had been one of the reasons why Yunho knew within a month that you were the one.
“Hey, it’s a happy moment, okay?” he took you by the shoulders and pressed his forehead against yours, knowing that the closeness and the ridiculous angle at which he would purposefully peer into your eyes would make you laugh. And bingo. You melted into his favourite sound and gave him a small peck on the lips as a way of answering.
“Do you want to look through it?”
The tone of his voice was almost concerned, like he did not want to disappoint you. Out of the two of you, he was definitely the more sentimental and enthusiastic one and you: level-headed and logical, but in nearly all cases, it worked. And in the ones where opinions did not match, you respected each other and communicated your points clearly. But the inkling of fear still did not leave him, and he felt that it would stay with him for all his life. Upsetting you was his personal nightmare, and so he always did all he could to keep an eye out, read the room, learn to understand you fully, perhaps even better than how you understood yourself.
You shifted to rest your hands on his hips, batting your eyes to prolong the silence that fell over you as soon as he asked the question. But you could not keep the game up for long, a sigh escaping you as you gleamed and stepped closer, with Yunho in tow, to the couch.
“Let’s do this.”
Initially, you sat down side by side as you took the album, but your husband, apparently, had other plans. With haste, he pulled you down into a half-lying position, pressed flush against him while he occupied the corner for balance.
“Who is dragging who now?”
“Can’t be me, nope.” He stared up at the ceiling, the walls, anywhere except you to feign total obliviousness.
“Really?” you raised an eyebrow, stifling a giggle.
“I am cuddling with my wife. What is dragging, pray tell?”
“Wouldn’t know. My soft-ass husband erased that from my lexicon it seems.” You shot back, shuffling into a more comfortable position.
“Now about soft ass-”
“Don’t you dare bro.” you cut him off in mock shock.
“Don’t bro me, we are literally about to look at our wedding photos and you call me bro?” he joined you in your miniature spectacle, pretending to have been offended by your use of the word. Even though you were just kidding, you did not want to ruin the moment and take things too far, instead settling for a simple:
“Excuse me bro.”
“You are excused. And I’m not your bro.” at the speed of light, he responded, and your jaw dropped. You could hear smugness in his tone, and simply had to twist your head to confirm your suspicions about the source of his comment.
“Did you just quote a TikTok at me?”
“Did you not know you married a hype house member?”
“Well dang sorry about that, I think I need to step up my game.” You concluded, nodding to yourself, your lips curling into a smile.
You flipped the album the right way around, pausing to trace the details of the adorable chaos with which it was decorated, recalling the evening when this idea had even crossed yours and Yunho’s minds. That same night you found out that the convenience store next to your shared apartment not only provided the best snacks at two o’clock in the morning, but also had an astonishingly large array of arts and crafts supplies tucked away towards the back. In the tranquility, Yunho decided to tangle his legs with yours to lock you in place, and whispered in your ear, inadvertently sending a shiver down your spine.
“Is there any higher to go than you?” you snorted and leaned your head back.
“You are layering on the cheese TODAY, do you have macaroni with that?”
“No, you will settle for an entire wheel instead, my love. Now go, go, open it, open it!” he egged you on like a child begging to get to the gifts on Christmas day.
In many ways, Yunho was like a bouncy ball of pure energy, while still remaining responsible, dependable and at times, too good to be true. He was the most genuine, sweet angel who stopped at nothing to make you feel loved. The smallest things about you and what you did excited him, and he took great care in memorising the sources of your happiness, only to double, triple them. He had a bright soul, and as soon as you let him, shared it all with you. It was no secret that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and maybe that was the real reason why he did not mind sharing his sweaters with you, since you already had it in your possession.
He was your sunshine on a rainy day, a vitamin in illness, and your biggest cheerleader. You were not kidding about the last one, either. Yunho had waited for an entire half-day, in the middle of the business district, for you to complete a job interview and assessment day and for him to be able to support you and gift you the bracelet you had always wanted. At the same time, he had trusted you enough to be his anchor and his guide out of the darkest places, reaching out and never letting go. Be it when he was overworked, or simply because it was one of those days when nothing seemed to be going right, you were always there for him, and he did not need to pretend to be strong and above being human. Both of you loved one another for everything you did and felt, for all the perfect imperfections.
This was exactly why your wedding had been a bundle of chaos – the two of you had been strongly against any professional curation, and instead decided to make the event what it should be: a wild celebration of your life as individuals, and your future life as an officiated union. Involving his friends and your own in the planning and execution had also been the best decision, as both the reception and after party had turned out to be even  more exhilarating than you could have envisioned. Even as you walked down the aisle, his two close partners in crime: Wooyoung and San, nearly stole the show as flower boys with extra flair and style.
“I totally forgot that Woo nearly crashed the basket into your aunt’s face, LOOK AT HER!” you exclaimed, pointing at the photograph that had captured the terror in Yunho’s relative’s eyes terrifically. The next picture, albeit slightly blurry but you begged for your resident photographer Hongjoong to send it anyways, showed Wooyoung bowing to the poor woman as though he had just finished a theatre performance, hair almost brushing the floor.
“Hold on, look at this, I never noticed how your baby cousin looked as we were saying our vows? Look at him, he is so cute!” Yunho was turning into a puddle as he relived the memories while viewing the photos, one after the other. It was so easy for him to drift back to the day, as each second was one he thanked all that was good in the world for. He had dreamed of it as soon as he had progressed into a relationship with you, and that wish had come true.
You took on the role of a makeshift stand, keeping the album up by the cover, while Yunho did the honours of flipping the pages. Each time you stopped to study a new one, he would rest his hand on your stomach, enjoying the sensation of feeling your breathing, your heartbeat. Any sign of you being so close to him both physically and spiritually, the realisation that you were here, only his, made his brain go haywire and his emotions fluctuate beyond any control.
Soon enough, you moved to the photographs from the celebration after the ceremony, and that was when Yunho felt his breath hitch. Changed out of the formal wedding outfits into more comfortable, fashionable and dance-friendly attire, you looked spectacular. He did not look too bad either if he could say so himself, but you… the way you had been caught mid-glance and were looking at him as if he was your entire universe… he could not help but squeeze you to him making you yelp.
“Hey I have organs by the way!”
“It’s okay you can have mine.” He mumbled as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck for a moment, leaving a light trail of kisses.
“Odd, but charming.” You commented, trying to get the image out of your head as you nudged your husband to flip the page once more.
“Only the best for you.”
“Then I’d like to keep you in one piece and alive, please.” Your simple answer, probably something he should not even dwell on, made him even softer than before. Yunho really was in a sentimental mood.
It was beginning to get to him. The disco ball decorations paired with peonies, the dazzling lights. The company of only the closest people who had watched you two grow over the years, and saw you two develop a beautiful romantic symbiosis. Even the silly napkins on the tables that had mini caricatures of the guests printed on them, taken from funny photos you had saved on your phone as ‘blackmail material’, were hitting him right in the impossibly strong feelings.
Though you had the original polaroids saved in an envelope which he had left in its proper location, between the thick book of Impressionism that you had asked him to buy for you, and a few video game discs which had overflowed from another shelf, there was a picture of the wall that had been created on the day of your wedding. The task had been simple – you asked all those attending to take the instant print film camera set down on a table to snap a picture of themselves, either as they were or with any of the props provided, and clip it to any of the strings wrapped around a wooden frame. By the end of the night, as the champagne kept on flowing and people got more snap happy, there were so many squares of joy that they had all been about to all fall down to the floor.
A couple of them had been zoomed in on, Hongjoong holding them in a position that reduced the glare, his immaculate manicure peeking in through the gaps. One was a picture of Yunho surrounded by a group of your closest friends, all in various states of blissful insanity and looking like they were all about to jump at the lens. The other was you, in a laughing fit, together with his friends, at this point – brothers. They had grown incredibly close with you quite quickly; as a matter of fact, it was through one of them that you had met in the first place. Who else except Mingi, who had been unanimously appointed as best man, could have known where to find Yunho’s love of his life and beyond? Could it be any better than this? How could he be so lucky?
He was frozen in place, unable to even return to his duties, so you turned to the next set of photos yourself. You attempted to comment a few times on the details in the pictures you found funny, like Seonghwa literally wiping down a table in the background of one, Hongjoong caught mid chase as Wooyoung stole the camera, or Jongho and Yeosang lifting a plate of fried chicken – a dish which the latter had insisted upon including, to inspect it. But to no avail. Your husband remained silent, and you swore his heart started to beat louder.
“Yun?” You asked, your voice barely audible as you moved to the next part of the collection.
“Yes?” he sounded chocked up, instilling alarm in you as you lowered the album.
“Yunho…”
“Y/N…?” he mirrored, breathing shallow. You twisted back to him and were in for a surprise.
“Yunho, are you… crying? No way, Yun, baby, are you crying, why?” you cooed, completely abandoning the album, and raising your hands to his face, cupping it. You had caught him just as he was getting misty eyed, but with your affection, the tears that welled up began to roll as soon as he blinked.
You brushed them away with your thumbs, lifting yourself up to not squeeze on Yunho’s body too much, letting the album fall off you and onto the floor. He was always your priority. Even though he had turned on the waterworks, he was, somehow, still smiling, though a little more pouty than usual.
“My love, what’s happened, talk to me.” you mumbled, feeling both his arms wrap around you and pull you in. “Hey, let’s sit, come on.” Fully obeying you, he took you like a koala, and shifted so he was against the back of the couch, and your legs were on either side of him, with you sitting square on his lap. “Yun, baby, was it the table? That last photo was just the table, you know the one with the flo-”
“Y/N why are you so amazing?!” he wailed, nearly knocking all oxygen out of you as he buried himself in your hoodie, inhaling your scent, searching for comfort which you were more than willing to give. You barely had the opportunity to tuck your arms in so that Yunho would not hurt himself.
“Oh, so it was those photos, right?”
“Mhm…” he hummed, not wanting to look up at you, feeling his cheeks and ears going red. It was his hoodie anyways it did not matter if he cried into it a little bit. He had the right, dang it.
“Yunnie, that is just us and our friends…”
“But it’s so perfect…”
“You’re so precious, my love. Come on, deep breaths for me, okay?” he could not answer with words, body shuddering as he struggled to contain a sob, and merely nodded against your frame. You poked his head playfully, grinning as he appeared from his temporary hideout and grew bashful.
No matter how he was, he was always beautiful to you. You had seen each other at less than ideal times, and here you were, still together and stronger than ever. What could a couple of happy tears do? Only make you want to cover him in kisses, which was exactly what you did as you regained your balance and were centimetres away from his lips. The action left him beaming, and you tried your best to wipe away more as much of the streams staining his cheeks as you could.
“Let’s look at Mingi’s breakdancing pics instead, how about that?”
“Y/N…”
The day kept on flashing in Yunho’s mind, and grew into a moving reel of all the time you had spent together so far. Soon enough, the future he had imagined with you also made an appearance, and new tears started pricking at the corners of his eyes. You tried to mimic his approach and lowered your head to make a funny expression, knocking your forehead into his. Bumping your nose with his, you further distracted him by announcing ‘boop’ every time you did so, right until he erupted into uncontrollable giggles and muttered:
“Gosh, I am a sappy mess, aren’t I?”
“That’s what I like about you, sweet love of mine.”
“Only like, and only that?”
“Okay, love, and much more than just that.”
“What else?” you had leaned into him, resting your chin on his shoulder and snaking around to embrace him back.
“I would love you even if you were a worm, Yunho, I think that says it all.” You recalled the time you had gone to change the bedsheets and returned to your husband, a grown, tall man, rolled into the old ones like a burrito, wiggling back and forth.
“I’d love you if you were a worm, too. Even if you were bacteria, you’d be mine.”
“Mm, microbiomes, now you are really speaking my language Yun.”
A quietude spread across the living room, together with the rays of midmorning sun that were breaking into it through the windows. Basking in this serene warmth, you almost did not want to return to your chores for the day but had to give it a shot.
“Yun, we have to continue…” he sniffled in response, making you look up at him again. He was forcing himself to start up again, only this time to keep you right where you were. “Oh no you don’t! Darling, we must-”
“I need attention, your departure is detrimental to my health.”
“Baby using big words, now I must stay.” You teased and pecked his cheek, leaving him more than satisfied as he grunted in agreement with your final decision.
Toppling back into a lying position, he traced circles on the small of your back, deep in thought. As you started getting sleepy, totally immersed in the soothing sensation, Yunho tapped you a couple of times, mischievous.
“Y/N?”
“Yes?” you answered warily.
“…Remember what song we did that slow dance to?”
“Yunho don’t even think about it you know I’ll cry to that.”
“My head’s under water, but I’m breathing fine~ you’re crazy and I’m out of my mind~”
“Stop, seriously stop!” you chuckled, growing more vulnerable by the second.
“Really, such a basic song choice.”
“You know I love it, and you said so too!” you exclaimed, while he used his pause to clear his throat, and softly began to sing the chorus, leaving your vision blurry, and you falling in love yet again.
“‘Cause all of me…loves all of you…”
335 notes · View notes
hwaightme · 9 days
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GUY.exe
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(masterlist) (perma-taglist)
✏️ pairing: yunho x gn!reader ✏️ genre: fluff, crack, friends? to lovers, drawing? to lover ✏️ summary: you never expected for the character you designed for the newest dating simulator to be quite as realistic as this ✏️ wordcount: 5.0k ✏️ warnings/tags: questionable editing, unhinged crack galore, fever dream, digital artist / designer reader, shy boy best friend yunho, lowkey referencing the song the fic is named after (GUY.exe by SUP3RFRUIT) ✏️ taglist: at the bottom of the fic~ ✏️ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE MY NADIA @justhere4kpop !!! you are the kindest, funniest, sweetest person ever, i love you so so much and i am so grateful for every day because it means i can spend it with you <3 wishing you the best day, all the most amazing things, experiences, achievements and more!!
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Another hour more, and you were going to scream. Hunched over your drawing tablet with bloodshot eyes and a cramping hand, you had been drawing and redrawing what seemed to be the same thing over and over again. But nothing gave you that magical feeling of completion and rightness when the abstract lines and shapes and shadows and doodles all came together on a page to form one whole. What you were experiencing was, in fact, very much the opposite. All because of these damn dumb brown doe eyes that you had decided to give to the character. Of course. What other eyes could the golden retriever type have, right? What other kinds of eyes would your boss approve of for the established archetype, the persona that you had ideated, storyboarded and proposed not only in front of your immediate team but also to senior management? That was right. None. No other. Only these doe eyes that you had been staring at and cursing profusely for the last four hours after having promised yourself that you would try to get to bed at ten in the evening instead of the less-than encouraging past midnight madness. But who were you kidding? 
Setting down the pen, you leaned back to stretch, hearing random joints crack and echo around your body, making you wonder if you have even been moving at all for the past few weeks. Having the opportunity to work from home during fast-paced sprints was, of course, a big benefit, but all too often for you, it also meant only ever walking from your home office to your kitchen and back, with the occasional bathroom break and a flop onto the armchair you had dragged into your office for designated social media scrolling time. Gone from the world, with your friends having nicknamed you an e-hermit in not one, but two separate chats. Zoned out and barely hanging onto the words spewed by your superiors, much like the rest of your fellow designers working on this same project, be it other characters, setting, clothing customisation options, accessories, or special items… as the main project lead, boss of the bosses had said: ‘whatever the user wishes for, should be there’. Who knew that a dating simulator could be that intense and demanding? 
Your drawing tablet was glaring at you, and so were the eyes on its screen, doubled onto your monitor watching your every movement like a painting at a museum would. They were meant to be kind and loving, crafted to complete the sunshine that this character was supposed to be, but the slightest misses in the lines were throwing the image off-kilter, and you could not pinpoint what was wrong. Reaching out for the now lukewarm cup of coffee off to the side of your desk, narrowly avoiding the clutter of sketches and notes you had made, you heaved a sigh, pondering if it would be the wisest to simply resign yourself to abandoning the task for today, and pick it up at work tomorrow. It was not like you would be punished for having the eyes be slightly off during an update meeting, after all, this was an ongoing process. But the perfectionist part of you was not letting go. You had managed to ideally depict everything else - the toned, tall physique with the stunning waist, torso and broad shoulders, the cheeks that made you feel a strong cute aggression, the tousled locks that could then be customised by a player’s colour preference, every other feature of the face that screamed ‘handsome’ and ‘appealing’... you did it all, and you would not be yourself if you could not overcome this little blip.
“One more try…” you whispered to yourself and searched for the file on your computer that contained a user story and profile of the character you had been agonising over. 
One click, another, and the document was up on the screen, revealing an initial concept sketch that you had made when you first proposed the man as a possible love interest for the main character in the simulator, as well as any facts about him, now being even further developed by the story-writers. Page after page, update after update the character in some ways felt more real than you, especially in your current deflated state. A gentleman, a sentimental soul, with what your colleague had called ‘four-dimensional’ traits and overall a funny, adorable sweetheart who at the click of a finger can turn into the sexiest man alive. There was nothing you did not like - aside from some details here and there that you were not sure who added but they had been approved so you had to deal with it, and that was problematic for your work since it meant that you were in the permanent state of wanting to do the character justice. You scrolled back up, starting at the brief, staring at the name as if it wasn’t already imprinted in your mind. Jeong Yunho. 
The dance instructor and choreographer. The talented and hardworking man who the main character would meet third, on her eighth day in Seoul. Born on the twenty-third of March nineteen ninety-nine in the city of Gwangju, moving to Seoul to chase his dreams and fight for them. Special talents… skills… favourite phrases… preferences… key memories… you read on, re-absorbing the details and rearranging them on imaginary shelves, trying to make sense of the information in the context of character design. How were you going to depict all of this in a pair of eyes? A part of you was confident that you were overthinking - actually, you definitely were. Not a single other designer was on Yunho's creation, and developers were going to look at him not as a persona, as a representation of a being that had become real in your mind, but as a task to execute, lines of code to make him move in predetermined ways, make him talks in predetermined ways, smile… yes, you were excited to see him be just that bit more alive, but at the same time, you were afraid of that moment - it would be right then that the world you had subconsciously built for you and him alone would be shattered, and your daydreams dispelled, maybe even crushed. So, getting the eyes perfect right now was the least you could do. At least your Yunho would be perfect.
Swearing under your breath, you picked up the pen once more and twirled it once around your fingers. His personality was fresh on your mind, heart racing, you could almost imagine him in front of you. With a final nod of encouragement, you dived back in, with more vigour and motivation than before, determined to get Yunho right, and to depict him how he truly was, how you knew he should be. The time ticked past, and so did the layers of doubt. Erasing themselves along with strokes of the digital brushes that dissatisfied you, you were unveiling the true character, and with a light heart, a smile on your face and a saved file, leaned onto your desk and rested your head on your crossed arms, just for a quick break to relish in the fact that you finally achieved the look that you had been searching for…
“Hey, good morning you worker bee, what did I tell you about sleeping at your desk?”
You never thought you could yell, right after waking up, as loud as you did at that moment. Jolting up from your seat, forgetting all the papers, equipment and stationery that was strewn about on the table on which you had been dozing, you bolted away from the source of the voice. It had resounded far too close to you for comfort, belonged to no one whom you knew, and was dangerously sweet and slightly lower-set. Pleasant. But who the hell was in your apartment and how did they break in when you almost always double-locked your door? After building up a bit of distance, you finally looked up and rubbed the last bits of sleep from your eyes. The figure was lean, toned, considerably tall, perhaps even very tall, definitely a man, with dark hair and a face that was a bit too similar to-
Jeong Yunho. Jaw-dropping, you darted back to your tablet and computer, practically shaking the mouse, forcing the entire digital system to begrudgingly awaken at your command. You searched everywhere. The open file, others, older versions… nothing. No luck in finding what you had been working on. It was as if the Yunho you had been spending weeks developing had never existed, and all that you were left with and were staring at was a blank page, and the character, no, a whole man, right in front of you, supposedly living, breathing and in your room. You stood up straight, giving the not-quite-a-stranger but still a stranger a once over, while he, confused, had an eyebrow raised and a sheepish smile on his face. He looked adorable that way. Abashed to the point of cuteness - you recalled a game developer on your team describing the planned emotional response functionality in that way; it had been a hit, and now you were seeing, in person, why. 
“Y-Yunho?” you whispered in disbelief, a hand hovering over your mouth while you were wondering whether you should officially report yourself to your boss for having succumbed to the delusions. Relief flashed over the beautiful man’s features when you mentioned his name, timidly, yes, but still, it was his name that you uttered.
“Yes, Y/N, that’s me, hey, don’t worry.”
“Y/N?” He knew your name. This was too real - a shriek erupted from what felt like the depths of your soul, and you shut your eyes, only to open them again and to see the same picture, but a little more zoomed in. He was approaching you. Code red, alert, alert, hot man of your dreams who you had been drawing all the time and were effectively being paid to thirst over was approaching you.
“Do you not remember me or something, are you okay? See I keep telling you to not sleep so late, it’s bad for you-”
“Look who’s talking, mister ‘time to text at two in the morning’,” It was a shot in the dark, a random recollection of facts that had been noted about Yunho, but that was true, since he stopped immediately, a dazzling smile on his face.
“Alright, alright, you got me. But hey, you answer me so we are in this together, right?” he countered, and winked. 
“Yeah… and I should stop drinking coffee that late, it gives me some cursed… abilities…” you concluded cryptically, though Yunho did not seem to care much about the wording, taking it as your account of how easily you had been spooked by him.
After the initial wave of ‘stranger danger’ had subsided, instead being replaced by the odd conviction that the man before you truly was just the representation of the character for the simulator, you crossed your arms and regarded him more slowly, calmly while he approached the book cabinet that was filled to the brim with manga, manhwa, figurines, dolls, action figures… effectively the best representation of what had inspired you and continued to drive you to do what you were doing in your life now. He was dressed casually, in a zip-up grey hoodie and dark grey jeans. He had taken off his shoes and was in black socks that he stuffed into a pair of slippers - so in this reality, Yunho clearly was a regular guest. Scratching the back of your head, you wondered if this was a storyline that had been updated and you were unknowingly hallucinating.
“Well, uh, if you… if you want me to come by another time I don’t mind. Whatever works best for you…”
Oh. It finally clicked in your head, and your heart fluttered. The moment was stark and aching in your mind, and you were barely able to contain yourself, the subconscious fangirl in you fully awakening. The light flush of pink on his cheeks, those damn doe eyes that were so perfect, and were now looking right at you as if you were Yunho’s entire world, it was all a telltale sign for what was to happen later, and the past disappointment at having been woken up and having no more documents to present evaporated. This was another life, it had to be. One where you did not have to worry about the endless story points, bi-weekly sprints and one deliverable after another. Only a very precious Yunho who, while toying with the sleeve of his hoodie was pondering if he was even welcome.
“Hey! No, we were planning to hang out and we are going to. Sorry, you know how work is and it got to me this time. What shall we do then? Go out, stay in?” you amplified your sociability, putting the fantastical aspect of the circumstances on the back burner for future pondering.
Laying down the pen that you had absent-mindedly grabbed for self-defence, you stepped around the desk and towards Yunho, never once breaking the visual exchange, except when his gaze darted to the floor under your intensity. You had the advantage after all, of knowledge. You could sense, and could confirm by your universe, what exactly was going to happen. He was pretending to not be affected by your closeness, looking at the cabinet again, though the tone in which he spoke was vulnerable, every bit the dream guy you were imagining all this time. You could barely resist the urge to pinch his cheek - in fact, you made a mental note to yourself to check if that was a playable option in the game or not.
“Can we… stay in?”
“Take out?” if there was something you would not quite let him do, it would be to give him full power over the kitchen. Perhaps another time, but not when the dream was so magnificent.
“You bet! I’m buying this time-”
“Yun, c’mon.”
“Technically I am still the guest.”
“You are much more than a guest-” a pause, a blur within which Yunho was attempting to pick out the meaning behind the words which you had purposefully left to be ambiguous, just to mess with him a little bit. It was too sweet, “I mean, you practically live here at this point,” he groaned and playfully rolled his eyes while continuing to tap in the order to what was for sure meant to be your favourite restaurant in the neighbourhood.
You followed him into your living room. Everything was just as you had left it. Even Yunho’s presence was beginning to feel natural, probably because it had already been pretty much just as constant as him now physically falling onto the couch and leaning back to stretch an arm out over the back of it. Hell, you had even spent some evenings sketching him in this same room. As you settled beside him, while still keeping a little bit of distance - just as friends who were feeling not quite platonic would do, you realised that indeed, you were that close. You did know him ‘since forever’, and whatever this fever dream was, you had every right to enjoy it. So upon pulling your legs onto the couch and under you, you settled in and with a soft sigh began to set up the movie you were going to watch. Just like you and Yunho would do had he been an actual interest of yours.
As the food arrived and was promptly devoured, and you were midway through the film, you found Yunho slowly but surely gravitating towards you. First, it was with an outstretched hand when he was trying to imitate a character on the screen, then with him sitting ever so slightly closer when there was supposedly a ‘spooky moment’ even though you knew full well that out of the two of you, you were the one who would not dare enter a haunted house again, and finally, under the pretence of ‘wanting to show you a funny meme on his phone’ he sat right next to you, thighs flush against each other, arm resting on the sofa right behind your head. You could not help but lean into the warmth, attracted to it, comforted. You knew Yunho inside and out, and if there was anyone who you would trust like this, it would be him. He had seen you at your worst - crying in the office bathrooms when during your early days at the company you had been humiliated by your old boss (who, thankfully, had been promptly fired), and had seen you at your best - your award-winning presentation and proof of concept for an innovative life simulation game, selected as a showpiece for the company at a major global conference. He was always there. Be it on your phone, in a sketchbook, or on your laptop - he was always there, cheering you on. There was no difference between then and now, except that now you could allow your head to rest against his broad chest, hearing the soothing beating of his heart behind the cotton fabrics, feeling how his hand dropped to trace random, intricate shapes on your shoulder while his eyes stayed glued to the television screen. 
You could sense that he was afraid to look at you, or at least of what he would think or do if he were to do so. He was warm. Very warm. Maybe too warm. You looked up, noting the adorable redness of his ears that appeared only in particular instances: either he just woke up from deep sleep which was not the case, or he had violently shaken his head and rubbed his ears - another no, or he was embarrassed and shy. Bingo. There it was. You nuzzled against him and swore you could feel his entire body stiffen. Just like when a cat makes a person ‘ the chosen one’ by lying on their lap and said person almost forgets to breathe, you nearly knocked consciousness out of Yunho, it seemed.
“What’s up?” you mumbled, noting that Yunho straightened his back, sitting in an unnatural position.
“I, uh, nothing, it’s nothing,” he responded, clearing his throat, still not daring to look to the side to face you. 
A pause. That was his character - you nodded to yourself. He had always been like this. Sympathy through the roof but when it came to his openness - he far from often strayed into that field. It would take quite a bit of coaxing, or, somehow easier, waiting for the right moment. So wait you did, comfortably resting against Yunho, insistent that he return to his previously unwinded state. Before you could snake your hand around him to pull his hood up, your friend suddenly shot up, mumbling something about it being too stuffy, or too hot, and tugged the article of clothing off.
All would be fine and dandy if he was not built how he was - and you knew it better than anyone, however strange it was to admit. After all, you had been the one to pick and sketch out his physique, knowing every muscle, curve and edge. As he fumbled with the sleeves, you took in his form, mouth agape as you saw what you had only perceived two-dimensionally, now in live action, and somehow being the one case of where the transition was impeccable if not better. If he were to turn at any moment, he would bear witness to your disturbingly dedicated scrutiny. But at the same time, what could a digital artist and designer do when a handsome man was right before them? Exactly. It was practically a duty to perceive; if not for personal interests (which you would be a liar if you were to say you did not have them), then at least for science. He looked too good in the dark grey graphic t-shirt, which, despite it being slightly oversize, did its beautiful work by revealing his perfectly toned arms. When you noticed him being in the process of turning back, you peeled your gaze away and back to the movie, not sure where in the storyline you even were, nor what the actors were saying. Patting the space next to you, you beckoned Yunho back. This time, he was calmer in his demeanour, falling back and letting you fall into him, with him, for him - and he was right there to catch you. 
Action scene after action scene turned into a blur, dialogue was static that you were not bothered to discern while you focused on Yunho’s breathing. Shallower than before, but still comforting. Who would have thought that you would be cuddling with your dream man when a mere few hours ago you were holed up behind your desk, with a cramped and stiff neck, an exhausted hand and equally tired eyes? Eyelids grew heavier, and you wondered if it would be long before you would fall asleep again, and wake up alone, as usual; a bitter smile settled on your lips when the realisation hit you, earning you a perplexed glance from Yunho and a poke in your side.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Definitely something, he turned to you, studying your every movement. The action led him to detangle himself from you, leading you to shiver a little from the lack of his body heat, “ah wait are you cold now? I- wait, here, hoodie?”
“Thanks.”
Him. In every thread. The scent of clean laundry, cotton, and fabric softener. There was something so magical in it, soothing. You wanted to float in the aroma and this moment forever. Pulling the hoodie tighter around you, you pretended to not notice the adoration that was blatantly obvious in Yunho’s expression. He watched as you pushed up the sleeves a little bit, crossed your legs and looked back at him.  Your friend, your muse and subject was nervous, and it did not need a trained professional to figure it out. The tale was climbing to a peak, and the main characters had to face it together. You waited for him, mellowness across your features as you played with one of the hoodie’s drawstrings.
Yunho looked at you, and something about the purity, and hopefulness within him made you think of the very first drawings you had made on post-its in the middle of a conference. Bored out of your mind, your mind wandered back to pondering the new project you had been assigned - the dating simulator. Idea after idea had been proposed for the characters, but not a single one stuck. Everyone was at a standstill until he came along. A breathtaking blessing, just like he was now. Silence settled like snow, only to be broken by a short hum, and Yunho taking the risk you had been wishing for.
“I… I know it has only been a few months but… I really don’t think I can be friends with you anymore, Y/N,” you tilted your head as he put his hands on his lap, fingers repeatedly messing with the material of his sweatpants - his attempt to soothe himself. You, on the other hand, were oddly calm. Simply waiting for the events to unfold and for you to embrace them with the fullest heart. While he was searching for the right words to say, you placed a hand over his, waking him from rumination. A weak smile was replaced by determination, truth spilling from his soul.
“I like you too much. Really. I would not be able to keep my distance even if I tried.”
“Well I think you are a bit too far away right now, Yun,” with a wave of boldness having washed over you, you acted on instinct, leaning towards the beautiful, infinitely precious man until he could not look away, captivated by your proximity, your glimmering eyes, your acceptance.
“Huh?” the sound was barely audible, an echo lost to the tension. You ran a finger over his jawline, instantly seeing his expression darken with another reverberating, deep sensation.
“We should seal the deal, shouldn’t we?” remaining cryptic, you inched closer and closer until you could pick apart the flicks of lighter mahogany in those stunning irises - you wanted to shake your hand for having persevered to finish them in the drawing. Truly, one of a kind.
“What-”
“Oh just kiss me already-”
That phrase you did not need to tell Yunho twice. Finally catching on, he was the first to destroy the distance between you, capturing your lips with his and letting his hand find purchase in your hair, digits running through it, caressing you, guiding you into a shared rhythm. He was as sweet as vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. An intoxicating, ecstatically overwhelming daze that consumed you whole. You saw the sketches flash before you, burning one by one to fuel the desire building for Yunho, for you, for the two of you together. It felt right, it felt real. Arms over his shoulders, you allowed him to pull you into his lap, embrace you and pepper the softest kisses on your cheeks, and your neck, finding the path back to your lips. You felt more alive than ever with the electricity coursing through your newfound intimacy. Nothing existed. This universe was Yunho, and you could not be happier. Better than in any story that you or your co-workers could develop, better than in any fairytale, the oddity transformed into eternity. This was a dream you wanted to remain in for as long as you-
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Saying it was hard to wake up was an understatement. Your entire body had been aching from having fallen asleep in an awkward position over your drawing tablet, you had slept past your alarms and as such had only fifteen minutes to cram getting ready and leaving for the office, and upon checking your schedule you had the ‘pleasure’ of having three more meetings being crammed into it, reducing your lunch break to what was a near null. With a sigh, you moved away from your space, dragging your tired body to your first official interaction of the day after having sat at your desk for a couple of hours, already dreading it. The new CEO - whoever they were, was the ‘I want to know all the details and be one with the teams’ type, how joyful, you wondered how long that would last. 
It was hard to find the motivation, especially after a dream such as yours. It kept on revolving in your head, pressing down on you, making you reminisce the gentle caresses, the sweet words and actions, the delightful kiss that you had managed to just have the time to experience with Yunho. You were seeing your character in an entirely new light, already having reworked some ideas for the possible special event outfits and spammed your close colleagues who were working on the storyline with some ideas about how Yunho could have even better depth and as such, engagement from prospective users. Perhaps for this meeting with authority you just needed to tap into your delusions and it would be good enough - at least they were productive for once. 
While you were setting up the presentation, the rest of your immediate team began to file in, giving you excited waves that you returned with an unprecedented warmth. Pleasant chatter, discussion of possibility, mention of just how special it was that this dating simulator game project was the one the CEO had chosen to see today… you were feeling confident. Whoever this person was going to be, you were going to give your best and-
The door opened. Heads turned. Greetings, bows - all forms of politeness that could be expressed being delivered. People standing up, while you stood up taller by the board, the title slide behind you. You raised your head, only for time to slow down and freeze entirely. Your hold on the clicker tightened, and the only person aside from you who existed at that moment was the newcomer. The CEO. Greeting others with a smile and with equally as elegant bows. Every bit the gentleman in his tailored suit, hair swept back and impeccably styled. Jeong Yunho.
This had to be some kind of joke, right? Was this a dream? The stinging remaining after you pinched your arm slapped you back into reality. No. This Yunho was definitely real. But who was the one you-... the one you started dating? The one who you were way more than colleagues or friends with? Before your mind could accelerate into panicked rumination, his gaze stopped at you, and you could sense everyone else’s attention drift to you too. You were under his spotlight. Melting under what was nothing but kindness in his eyes.
“L/N Y/N, right? I heard a lot about you,” his grin was making you dizzy, memories of his taste resurfacing and sending heat to your cheeks, giving them a light dusting of pink.
“Good things, I hope?” you managed, he chuckled, and sent you a wink before sitting down on his chair.
“The best. I am really looking forward to this,” a playful tease.
“Glad to know this.”
“I heard you made quite a few new developments, how did that happen?” you knew what he was getting at, and that made you feel secure. So it was the same Yunho. That precious Yunho who had confessed to you, the one who had come to life and was now part of yours, by some odd twist of fate had appeared in your company, and was now right in front of you, eager and in love. You smirked while twisting to check the slide one last time, well aware that his only focus ever would be you.
“Came to me in a dream.”
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thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a kind reblog, much love!
505 notes · View notes
hwaightme · 10 days
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Hiiii ♡ just a quick message to let you know you're amazing and I can't wait to catch up with your writings because I've been a lazy reader lately. You're still one of my faves ♡
Hope you're okay and that life treats you like the queen you are !
Love ♡
MA REINE!!!! <3333
oh my goodness i have missed you so so much!! seeing you on my feed more often lately made me smile, i hope you are doing well!!
life is life-ing, but that's to be expected right~ we'll keep walking~ may our lives treat us with kindness <3
all the love <3
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hwaightme · 11 days
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thank you so much, that means the world to me<33
Both
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THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR STAR’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)(masterlist) (taglist)
❤️‍🔥 pairing: husband!seonghwa x gn!afab!reader ❤️‍🔥 genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established long-term relationship ❤️‍🔥 summary: all work and no play makes seonghwa a needy boy; your husband wants you. now. and he will use any means necessary to get you where he wants you. being in the office is not a problem when you are one message away... ❤️‍🔥 wordcount: 8.6k total ❤️‍🔥 warnings/tags: semi-edited, hwa duality, businessperson!reader, mention of offices/presentations/corporate culture, nonidol!hwa, married but permanently in honeymoon phase, two people very in love, petnames, mutual respect, trust and adoration, seonghwa is smitten, reader wears heels, words crazy+drunk used ❤️‍🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic ❤️‍🔥 a/n: spiralled into ponderings with @byuntrash101 (ily), and my fingers slipped. oops. any notes, asks, reblogs appreciated <3 much love!
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❤️‍🔥 taglist: sexting, praise, petnames (love, darling, my love, pretty, gorgeous...), consent is king, unprotected sex (consider before you deliver), mating press/missionary (vanilla but make it spicy), 69 (blowjob+eating out), creampie, cumeating, slight spit kink, sprinklings of body worship, possessive terms (my/mine), light overstimulation, implied aftercare
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“How do I look?” you called out to your husband, who was sitting behind you on your shared bed, feline in the way he was leaning back on his arms, regarding you through half-shut, curious eyes. 
Unlike you, he had the day free, but even so decided to go through the motions of a morning routine with you, though finalising it with a considerably less formal outfit. Dressed in a black sweater and matching black trousers, Seonghwa had stated that he was going to go out to get some fresh produce from the market while it was still early, and the rush of crowds did not plague the city just yet. Patiently, he was waiting for you to be ready to head out to work, and he, to comfortably support the home front for today. 
“Hm, you look like me having to come to work with you and me having a blast telling waves of potential suitors that you are off limits.” He responded as a matter of factly. Nevertheless, you caught a cheeky grin in the mirror as he scanned you up and down with the intensity of a burning sun.
“Oh … Hwa, what if I want the attention? And what are you going to do about the stakeholders I’ll be speaking to, hm?” You asked him coyly, finally managing to get your second earring on and tapping it with your manicured finger for good measure.
“Something tells me that I’ll have to step in and act like security.” 
You chuckled, taken aback, pleasantly lightheaded because of Seonghwa’s early morning flirtations. With one final once over, he smoothed the bed sheets on either side of him and rose up to step right behind you, placing both hands under your suit jacket and on your waist, leaning closer and closer until he could place a soft kiss on the side of your neck which, thanks to your hairstyle, was exposed to the attention. 
The sleek, deep navy suit was an elegant number, peaked lapels on the single-breasted jacket perfectly pressed, the wide-legged trousers perfectly guiding towards the heels - pumps in a nude beige, and the white asymmetrical short-sleeved shirt underneath all combining to create perfect harmony. You had chosen elegance over daring energetic appeal today, picking pearl-based jewellery which, upon inspection, was exactly how you had imagined it would be with the outfit. A delicate balance was struck, and was reminiscent of how your husband was gingerly manoeuvring over and around you, until he appeared to have had enough with stalling.
Seonghwa’s arms lazily slid forwards, wrapping a little tighter around you, while his head moved to nudge you towards himself with his chin, until he could rest his head on your shoulder comfortably. Initially wishing to pry yourself away given how little time you had left if you were to make it to the office at a reasonable time, your hands rushed to his own, but as your husband began to sway side to side, blissfully taking in the image in the mirror, you left them there, admiring the priceless scene, and the way in which his hands fit perfectly over yours, the rings matching, another sign of your union completing the masterpiece in the reflection.
"Come on, Hwa, I’ll be late at this rate."
"What's it got to do with me, ma'am? I finished getting dressed fifteen minutes ago, was sitting here, all good and ready for you-" ignoring the word choice, you persisted:
"Because a certain someone was hogging the shower-"
"I told you, you could join." heat flushed to your cheeks as you caught Seonghwa’s less than innocent expression, making you remember exactly why you were not planning to get into any intimate shared space with this alluring schemer before work. Planting a feather-light kiss on your sensitive skin, he was threatening to make you lose track of time entirely. Attempting to wipe the action from immediate perception, you focused on the sensation of tugging on one of your earrings, anything to ground you and to return you into the headspace of the meetings you had scheduled and been booked into for the day, along with the details and key takeaways for each one. 
You had always been a fighter in the professional world, and this was one of the many things that Seonghwa adored about you. Having met at a networking event, that was the side of you he had come to be acquainted with first, and had fallen head over heels for. A sublime intensity that came with the passion you had for your work, a fire that ignited when you planned ahead, led teams and managed international ventures were so beautifully contained within you and formulated the intricate maze of your psyche that Seonghwa could not help but want to drown in it, and spend eternity observing you in action. He himself had stepped away from the strict and rigorous structures of the corporate world, instead preferring to offer independent consultation services, but to see you flourish, and to be there for your journey and to have you unconditionally support his decisions and experiments too was nothing short of a blessing. Perhaps the one side effect, a tiny challenge that came with having you as his life partner, his love and his spouse is mornings like this, when you were in the process of escaping for work, driven and ready for battle, your armour being one of the stylish suits of impeccable quality that you took great pains to keep pristine. And the more you did so, the stronger was his desire to see if he could ruin just one, at least one, perhaps the one you were wearing right now. Despite the fact that he had seen you in such garments more times than either of you could possibly count or remember, it made him more drawn to you and involuntarily seduced than he would ever dare admit. Seonghwa’s grip on your hips inadvertently tightened as gaze flashed upwards, settling on the reflection of your perfectly plump, tinted lips in the mirror. 
“Besides… As you know, I was making sure that the adjustments were all fine and the overall outfit would be fine for the quarterly review meeting,” you recalled your last-minute concerns over whether the selection was reasonable for meeting persons from the executive office, even though you were not sure if you even had outfits in your job-related arsenal that would not be appropriate, “You could have helped by the way.”
"I did! I gave the fit the Seonghwa seal of approval, but now... honestly am regretting it because you look illegal..."
He turned his attention back to the delicate skin around your neck, planting a couple more kisses with mischief glowing in his eyes. You giggled as his breath left a ticklish sensation and you nearly knocked your head with his in an attempt to shy away.
"And how do you think I feel, leaving you at home like this?”, you let your gaze settle on your husband, a ghost of a smirk revealing itself on your lips, “I need to brush up on my cat fighting techniques, mister handsome, and maybe learn how to teleport" Put him in a rag and he would still look spectacular. Like this, in a relaxed, casual outfit that ideally matched his dark locks, highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the jawline models would be jealous of, he was heavenly - something which you never failed to remind him of no matter what he was wearing. It was almost a shame that you had to leave for work instead of admiring this beauty for the entire day and an eternity more. You bit the inside of your cheek, banishing less than safe for work ponderings from your mind.
"Woah, Y/N, fighting for me? That's kind of - I do not think I should say what I am thinking."
"You’re being awfully cheeky this morning!" You lightly slapped the back of his hand and spun around, coming closer until only a mere couple of centimetres separated you. "What else can a kitty do with her claws?"
"I mean... my back has no complaints." He speedily responded, tightening his hold on your waist and attempting to capture your lips with his. But at this point, you had gotten good enough at reading Seonghwa to move away at the last second, resulting in a loud smooch right against your jawbone, followed by a purposefully childish whine, "Oh darling you are being a tease."
"Naugh- ty- Seonghwa, no kisses. I took too long to line my cupid's bow. I'm not about to let you ruin it." 
You tried to wiggle away, wondering if your suit was actually creaseproof as the assistant at the boutique had advertised, but he was having none of it, now grabbing your hands and swinging them side to side. With his prior seductive aura having subsided after your decisive, playful rejection, Seonghwa’s glances were in many ways boyish, permission-seeking. The most miniscule hint of a pout made its way to his lips as he peered what had to be directly into your heart and intertwined your fingers together, stopping the motion.
“Y/N…”
“Keep this thought in mind, lovely, will you be able to?” you purred, amused at your husband’s slow blinking, reminiscent of an affectionate cat.
“Of course,” you dodged another attempt by him to nuzzle into your neck with a soft, melodic laugh, and pulled Seonghwa to follow you out of the bedroom, “Ah, careful,” he rushed to block the door frame, chuckling at your eagerness to get to the hustle and bustle of your day, even though just a little while ago you still were retaining that light nervousness, likely overthinking every interaction that was not even likely to happen. After all, this was a job only you could do, and it was something that you did better than anyone else. You owned what you did, and everyone knew it.
As you grabbed your keys, and were about to bid farewell to your husband before starting your commute, you sensed his energy shifting to that of scheming. 
Seonghwa had a trial to face, and it presented itself with how stunning you looked in the glimmering golden light of the early morning, and how your every step almost sent a shiver up his spine. Wherever you were, he always managed to find you in one sweeping gaze, whether you were on the other side of a room or a few steps away. One of a kind, captivating, the world turned around you whether you would agree with Seonghwa or not. It was a simple fact. And here, in your apartment, where it was just you and him, it was impossible to ignore how his vision was occupied by you, and only you. He was consumed by the effortless charm you radiated, and when you caught him staring, how you lifted one shoulder and responded with a cheeky grin - a gesture of faux coyness. He clenched a hand hidden behind his back into a tight fist until his knuckles turned white, mutely regarding your final preparations before you would disappear behind the door. His thoughts were far away from what he had planned to do today, cursing how you had teased him and blaming routines - your husband would have preferred to take you and himself apart right here right now, unravel the tension that was so obvious he could almost taste it. He bit his lower lip as you leaned down to shift your footing in one of your heels, and barely suppressed a hiss as you glided back up, the pace of the motion highlighting how your curves were complemented by the suit. You were enticing, and watching your back Seonghwa could not help but remember the sensation of running his hand across it, caressing your body, guiding it as you turned into a goddess in the dimmed lights of your shared bedroom, connected with him in every way possible. You smiled at him as though you were not aware of the lustful darkness that began to consume his mind, lips tantalising, dangerous, his favourite heavenly nectar. This was unbearable.
It was impossible to ignore the searing gaze that seemed to have never left you since you had first returned it in the mirror, and was the last thing you experienced as you shut the front door. You kept the radio in your car silent, afraid that your thoughts would be louder than the music either way. Your husband was up to something, determined, and focused on you. And it was beyond exciting. This undercurrent of energy that was eternal, and ran through anything and everything he did was one of the multitude of reasons why you loved him. He was enigmatic, and yet so easy for you to explore. He had opened himself up to you so readily, revealing the edges of his vibrant soul that was so unparalleled and high octane that you swore that after meeting him, you ceased to breathe oxygen and could only ever inhale the adoration he provided. He was a dreamer, an ideator, a man devoted to the search for happiness, and that balanced you out so perfectly - it had only been a month when you had decided for yourself that Seonghwa was the one for you, and you would never let go. He was an eternal surprise, an enigma that was as soft and lovely as a cat, but wrapping itself around you like a serpent, slow and sensual. You wondered, as the day commenced and you were pulled into your first meeting, then another, just what your husband had crafted in his beautiful mind palace.
It did not take too long for the plan to reveal itself. Fortunately, because you did not enjoy facing unknowns. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of a meeting with some rather senior people. On the brighter side, you had proposed a five minute break before continuing the session so you had at least a couple of breaths to re-compose yourself, but other than that… it was only you, the phone that you were squeezing so hard in your hand that it could break, and the daring photograph blaring on the screen, setting you on fire. You had exchanged a couple of messages with Seonghwa prior to the meeting, his responses being cryptic and dizzyingly abstract, but nothing could have prepared you for the surprise.
Your other hand quickly found your thigh, gripping onto it so that you would not break your stoic disposition with a shaking leg, and you glanced side to side to make sure that the colleagues next to you had not returned to the room yet, and the others were preoccupied with their own devices or were deep in mundane conversation. So, this was what he was so enthusiastic about down following the morning antics. Clearly, you had not been passive enough for him to dismiss your glances in his direction - if you were to be honest, you had been eyeing him up and down from the moment he intentionally walked into you while changing, making you wonder how it was possible for you to want him more and more with each passing day, rather than feelings of attraction and enamourment subsiding with marriage and with sharing all the ups and downs. Instead, both of you were each other’s paradise, and that presented itself in all forms of desire. As you regarded Seonghwa’s form in the picture, lightly biting your lower lip as you tried to think of how you could respond to it, you could only be amused by how he knew exactly what buttons to press, and how to reignite what you had tried to pause earlier this morning - simply as an attempt to retain your sanity for handling paperwork and handshakes.
Resting on the chair that was in your bedroom, he made sure to accentuate his impeccable form, and how his long hair suited him so spectacularly. He had changed outfits - just for you, and that made you want to devour him all the more. Your precious husband who looked like sin. The vibrant beige jacket, which appeared almost brown in the sensually dimmed lamplight, hung freely over his upper body, revealing a tastefully bare abdomen, and consequently, the lovebites you had managed to leave above his heart and towards his collarbones after a particularly intense night a couple of days ago - they had only now begun to show signs of fading. Towards the very bottom of the picture you could spot the edge of a matching pair of trousers, black belt intentionally loosened to make your imagination run wild. A centrepiece, his black silver necklace and a perfectly paired earring, were the icing on top of the cake, their shimmer beckoning you. It was impossible to choose what to focus on; the head tilt, the elegant hand on which he was practically resting his head, how one leg had been thrown over the other - confident, in his element, so very Seonghwa that it made you hurt; and want him. Desperately. You shut your eyes and rolled them as you imagined the smirk on his face as he sent the image, knowing exactly what state he would pause you in, and hurl you into. When your husband was in the mood, it gave him an additional thrill to either catch you off-guard completely with bold advances and compliments, or fluster you until you were melting in his arms. And you did not mind one bit; that was your time to let go, to give up your stresses and iron grip and let all strains snap and become threads with which Seonghwa could pull at your very essence, praising you for how well you could follow his guidance, and just how perfect you were for him. You did not notice how your thumb was merely hovering over the keyboard until another message slid into view, and you barely suppressed a gasp, again looking up to make sure no one was watching you.
“Missing you, your taste, your everything, darling,”
This was the last straw, as you almost forgot what meeting you were in, where you were, how you were supposed to behave. You jolted upright, standing straight and excused yourself with a bow of the head, pointing at your phone - with the screen turned towards you. It was easy enough to get out, and storming down the corridor until you were out of everybody’s earshot, you pressed onto the call button, only to be met with a deep chuckle after a single ring. You could envision him still sitting on the chair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling as he toyed with your passions, beckoning you to race home to him. He knew you couldn’t until the day was officially done, and that was part of the fun. It only meant that when you were to finally open that front door, you would be more than ready to give yourself up to his tender love and care.
“Park Seonghwa, what do you think you are doing?” you hissed, pressing the phone right against the side of your face as your foot tapped an abstract rhythm on the carpeted floor.
“What do I think? I think I am talking to you right now, what about you?” he replied, purposefully feigning obliviousness.
“Hwa, the photo… the damn message....”
“Oh! That… yeah, it’s nothing special, really, I just did not send you any in quite some time, so thought I could spark… something,” he paused, indulging in your shallow breathing before finishing the sentence.
“Well you sparked something alright. Seonghwa. Or should I say, my demon of a husband?” you raised an eyebrow as you were met with a silence on the end of the line, but not long after, a sweet, resonant hum of agreement.
“Mm, what a title. Is that how I am making you feel, precious? Are you missing a certain something too?”
Missing. What exactly did both of you imply the other was missing? The word was laden with ambiguity and promise, imagination running wild from the emphasis that Seonghwa had placed on it, lifting it onto a pedestal, above rationality and stability. Inhale, exhale - you counted your breaths, knowing that in a minute you had to be heading back to talk numbers, strategies, even though only your husband would be on your mind.
“I-... yes, damn it,” you mumbled, lashes fluttering as a shiver ran up your spine.
“Mhm, I see… Now, don’t be shy, tell me, what is it that you are missing, what do you feel?” if there had been any hope of you remaining focused on work for the rest of the day, it was most certainly wiped now. You were mesmerised, clinging onto Seonghwa’s voice as though it was your only salvation in the midst of a storm. Quickly, you were losing all sense of your surroundings, too focused on his breaths, his sigh when he was obviously displeased with having to wait for your answer, and finally, his subtle command:
“Don’t be shy, tell me what’s on your mind,” you could not bring yourself to even part your lips, eyes darting to what you could see through the blinds into the meeting room. Your senior colleagues were still lethargic, unfocused, scrolling away or engaging in idle chatter. Maybe it could be advantageous, but judging by the heat that began to rise over your body you would definitely struggle stringing words together with eloquent cohesiveness. Seonghwa. The devious man. Your favourite drug. Your worst and best addiction.
“Perhaps you might need a little… inspiration… yes?”
“I…”
“...wouldn’t mind having you right on my tongue, writhing, falling apart…”
“Park Seonghwa-”
“I want to taste you. Want to keep you close for a long…” he paused, indulging in your electric silence, “long time, warm my cock while keeping you in a tight embrace, kissing you until we cannot breathe… how does that sound?”
“G-good…” you struggled to mumble out, wondering why your knees were transforming into jelly. The coolness of the wall against which you decided to lean provided some illusion of support.
“Your turn,” his tone turned more commanding and that did not go unnoticed. You bit your lower lip, not caring if that was going to smudge your lipstick. Nothing mattered, “I didn’t spare any details,” he waited. You remained frozen in your own thoughts, thousands of desires darting around your mind, but none being brave enough to escape and reveal itself to your husband. Perhaps for the better:
“Please don’t make me beg,” he must have heard you stifle a sound that was far too inappropriate to ever be heard in the workplace - the airy laugh that you were met with over the line was downright sinful, and made you curse your job. You needed him. Needed the release he was so readily offering. 
“Or do you want me to pry your dirty little secrets out of you until you are the one begging?”
A shaky inhale, an equally shaky exhale. You uttered his name, in a low voice only he had ever heard. Simultaneously hostile and tantalising. He now knew that he had you hooked.
“Mm… fine. Please, my darling. Please, tell me all those precious filthy musings swimming around in that delightful brain of yours,” you clenched the phone tighter in your hand and crossed your legs. You knew you had no time, despite easily imagining the position that Seonghwa was in, where he was and how lost he was in a lascivious dreamland. Eyes glossed over, lips wetted with his own spit, tension building in his core which he refused to unwind. Without you, at least. With a sharp intake of cold air, you steadied yourself. You were not about to reward demands with treasures. 
“Now, what would be the fun in that?”
“Come on… Y/N, I-”
“Be good, and you might just find out.” you cut him off, offering a fake smile to a colleague who walked past you. You needed to come back. Immediately.
“So you will be heading back on time today, right?” he was daring you, but at the same time it was easy to notice the notes of desperation. Untouched, riled up, overwhelmed. Needy. Just how you loved him.
“Hm… I do have a couple of things I could do…” who were you kidding? You had already gone through the fastest route home in your mind.
“Is that refusal I am hearing?” you heard him shift in his seat, the image of him leaning forwards to put an elbow on his knee so vivid that it was as if he was before you. 
“Not at all, love, not… at all…” giving up due to your growing distraction, you let your husband have at least a little bit of hope. Clearly, the words worked wonders as with newfound vigour, Seonghwa bid you farewell.
“Then see you soon, Y/N darling.”
Soon could not come soon enough. You were glad no one could see your leg shaking under the table, and that you were well-practised in discreetly checking the time. Teasing, tugging you along to follow his game, striking you out of the blue and opening the door to the world that only you two shared. You would be lying if you said that you were thinking about anyone else while debating with an executive, or when you were brave enough to point out a blatant assumption that was used to support a projection earning yourself a few pointed questions. But nothing compared to the blaze that caressed your skin, spurred you on and made you feel alive. Your favourite deviant, seductive god, king of your heart and keeper of your soul, he gave you control just as much as he could take it away. Wiping away anxiety, he left anticipation. Erasing doubt, he left a blooming confidence.
And with that feeling and darkened gaze, you were racing against the clock, accompanied by the sound of your soles clicking against concrete, accelerating away from the skyscrapers that housed your professional victories and into winding tunnels. You mutely cursed at every delay and every pause in your commute, but nonetheless made it home in record time, astonished by the vista of the setting sun which you normally could not catch in the winter months.
---
The jingling of the keys alerted Seonghwa of your presence, and he set his phone screen down onto the kitchen table, turning to perch himself on the doorframe. He crossed his arms, a ghostly smile on his lips. Aside from going through the regular domestic chores he had planned for himself - a feat in his far from concentrated state, he had decided to be a little more forward with his demands, much to your shared excitement. This, of course, began with his appearance, or rather, a casual exposure of himself in a way you had always encouraged him to do, loving his body so genuinely that it translated into an unparalleled self-appreciation for him. At the same time, that meant that in moments just like this one, he could use your infatuation with his mind and his physique against you. All for a little bit of harmless fun.
He was right, as always. The moment you lifted your head and were about to announce your arrival, a breath hitched in your throat and words died on the tip of your tongue. Hair loose, bangs neatly falling to frame his face, and that damn jacket with a leopard print inner lining, casually thrown over his bare upper body, befitting him so well that you needed to give yourself some time before choking out a quick, feeble ‘I’m home’ and kicking off your heels. He grinned, outwardly innocent, pretending to ‘just be happy to see you, when in fact his imagination was already beginning to forgo every article of clothing you had on. Scanning your form, Seonghwa could not help but bite back a groan. Since the moment you had left this morning, he wanted you back because he wanted you. On the bed, on the table, on the counter, he did not care about the mess. In fact, if there was to be a mess, he would be all the more satisfied. His skin was burning worse than if he were to have a fever, and every moment that passed while you were going through the regular after work motions was pure torture. 
As you finished washing your hands, and were about to tiptoe past him, likely to set your bag aside in your home office, he stopped you with one, quiet utterance.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day…”
Your heart was pumping an unsteady, deafening rhythm, and your hands were on the verge of shaking. Nothing was stopping you from simply giving in… except maybe an inkling of rebellion that clung onto you. He already had you in his hold, mouldable to whatever form he wished for, but if he was to play the long game, so were you. 
“Mmm… don’t know about that. Missed the memo,” you huffed, wasting a little too much strength on forcing the phrases. Rushing past your husband, you headed to your office and pretended to be taken by both your bag and the miscellaneous stationery left on the desk. 
You heard Seonghwa stalking behind you loud and clear, hyperfocused on his catlike steps, but remained rooted to your spot. Taking every item out of your bag, painfully slow, you were rapidly succumbing to the vision of your husband taking you apart. Gorgeous tanned skin, which you knew he was purposefully flaunting to you, intoxicating plush lips which were so vivid in your mind you could almost taste them, and his skillful hands… which just so happened to now be hovering over your waist. You clenched your jaw when they found purchase on your hips, and almost guided you to stand up and be pressed right against him.
Heat was rolling off your stunning lover in waves, and it was downright unbearable to have your back be connected to his toned chest. Seonghwa had no plans of letting you go. He pulled you closer, until you could practically trace his half-hard cock with your ass. He sighed at the contact, air softly passing over your skin, and let his lips trace a broken line upwards to your ear.
“That won’t do at all…” he flexed his arms as his hands roamed your body, “Fortunately, I know exactly how to show you,” you completely blanked, “what a good husband you have.”
As he was about to toy with the buttons at the top of your shirt, the one on your jacket having been long undone, you sprung into action and stopped him, barely suppressing a smirk as you turned your head and spotted a dash of confusion in his glossy eyes.
“I do have a wonderful husband, indeed. Too bad he does not know how to behave properly,” using the moment you slipped out of his embrace, and sauntered towards the door. Seonghwa was left in shock, starved and needy, having been thinking about you, you and only you all day. But his composition returned just as rapidly as it had faltered. You slowed down before reaching the door, as if being pulled back. 
Seonghwa was, indeed, magnetic. Lithe, agile, he reminded you of a panther, slinking across the couple of metres that separated you. You were aching to rip off the beige two piece right where he stood, and involuntarily darted your tongue between your lips, much to your husband’s amusement. He was not quite as gentle this time, grabbing a hold of you until you were chest to chest and securing your position by pressing on your lower back. His breath tickled your face; your hands snaked under his jacket, running over exposed skin, worshipping every part you could both see and visualise. 
“Really, Hwa. So eager,” you mumbled, brushing your lips over his, testing the waters and seeing a lustful, desperate storm clouding his dilated pupils.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered against your cheek, leaving a tentative peck. You dared to glance at him, poking his nose with your own.
“You’re acting out… disrupting me at work… sending such dirty things to me… calling me to tell me how you want me… is this to be rewarded, my love?” a shudder rolled over Seonghwa’s body, resulting in him planting more feverish kisses over your face, moving towards your jawline and finally across to your ear, nipping it.
“How could I ever behave when I need you, and you are looking like this…” his fingers caressed the collar of your shirt, scalding hot, “and are wearing my favourite perfume…” he inhaled, as though he was drunk off your scent - it was nothing more than what had come to be your signature, a bouquet of notes that defined you, but soon enough turned to being another way in which you occupied Seonghwa’s senses. 
Both of you subconsciously moved towards the door, getting impatient. Fingertips mapped the hickeys with violently cautious touches, and Seonghwa swore that if he did not act now, he would go mad. It was ridiculous. You were his life partner, a person to whom he had committed with his entire being, and yet with every passing day his desire for you kept on growing and he was falling deeper and deeper in both love and lust. With you in his arms he was a man lost at sea, blanking out, spiralling and devoted to passion. A big difference between your time dating and your married life, however, was that he did not have to hold back on his own wishes anymore, being as explicit as he was comfortable with, knowing that you would do the same, and no matter what, pleasure would be mutual and adoring. And, he needed it. Seonghwa needed you now. His hand moved on its own accord to cup your face and guide it towards his own. Millimetres apart, he set you ablaze along with him.
“...please…” spilled out, a feeble plea. Seonghwa’s eyes were darting all around you, trying to get some kind of answer, permission, anything. You nodded. And the thread holding you two back snapped.
The kiss was messy, animalistic, far from the calm lover with whom you shared your daily life. Seonghwa did not give you a chance to breathe, instead pushing his lips against yours with the ferocity of a starved man. Unparalleled sweetness graced you as his tongue slipped inside, and he eagerly revisited the movements he found most entrancing, his occasional rough and low growls sending you into a frenzy. Your muted whine spurred him on, and he pushed your entangled forms out of the office, and into the bedroom, the door to which had been left open.
One nip, another, it was as if he wanted to mark you as his everywhere, teeth leaving a pleasant blend of satisfaction and a dull pain to spread from your lips and shoot straight to your core. You began to push off his jacket, a request which he readily accepted, leaving him constrained only by his bottoms. Seonghwa would not give you any false advantages, speedily tugging your jacket off you. His erection was pressing into your thigh, and you could not resist grinding against him, eliciting a delicious groan.
 Soon enough, your shirt and bra hastily joined your jacket on the floor, while Seonghwa spared no time in kneading one of your breasts, while feeling the air with the other in an attempt to reach the switch on the floor lamp, growling into the kiss when he missed the first couple of times and hand to open his eyes. You broke away from your husband, resting your palms on his abdomen and admiring just how pretty he looked in the warm, dimmed light that washed over the room in a flash. So it was that kind of night.
“...Want to see you…” he mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours and locked your lips together once more, guiding you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit its edge, he hooked his strong arm around you, a quick “careful,” escaping him.
“Let’s get this off, shall we?” gliding a finger on the inner side of the trouser waistband, he waited for you to comply. It did not take much time for you to get rid of the remaining clothes, and be left only with the full awareness of just how wet you really were.
You pressed your legs together, only for Seonghwa to inch his knee and push it in between, forcing them back apart. It was times like this when you realised that he really could read you better than you could read yourself, and any gesture, thought or fantasy, was his as much as your own.
“You’re so beautiful, no need to hide from me,” he scanned over your body, and you felt like you were on fire, melting into him. While your husband’s eyes were glazed over with lust, within them they still held so much love that your heart could burst. “Ah, wait a minute,” you watched as he removed his bottoms, and with a hiss, let his hard and leaking cock spring free. His low chuckle was music to your ears, “now we’re good.” 
“Mhm… oh Hwa… I really did make you wait…” you lowered your gaze to his cock, finger tracing a line down his stomach and stopping right before its base. He sucked in a shallow breath, nuzzling his face against yours to hide how close he was to being pushed completely over the edge. Patience was a virtue, and he barely had any left. “Let me take care of you, hm?” you suggested, trying to move to the side to gesture for Seonghwa to sit down on the bed. He remained still, and whispered against your cheek:
“No… I wanted to do that- ah-” your leg brushed against Seonghwa’s sensitive cockhead, pulling a gasp out of him.
“Then I have an idea, if you’re with me on this. Lie down for me?” pulling away, you switched where you were standing, and tilted your chin to gesture at the bed that was now in front of you. Seonghwa peered around his shoulder, and back at you, a soft, tiny smile, albeit a meek one, dancing on his lips.
“Baby you’re doing too-”
“Shush, we can make each other feel good,” promptly following Seonghwa, you were now hovering above him, playing with his necklace. 
“I love you,” he said breathlessly, making the side of your mouth curl into a half smile. 
“I love you too.”
“Now I’m craving something sweet,” you lightly slapped his chest and shook your head in an attempt to hide your amusement.
“Oh stop it…”
“I think I’ll go crazy if I don't have you sitting on my face in the next few seconds.”
“Can’t have that happening.”
You adjusted positions, and once you had your back facing Seonghwa, he pulled your hips towards him to lower your pussy over his face. Carefully, you leaned forward, relishing in the sight of your husband’s impossibly stunning body, every muscle a work of art. After finding a comfortable balance, and waiting for the initial shock of Seonghwa tasting you to turn into a continuous thrum of pleasure, you spat into your palm, and wrapped the hand around his cock. His thighs tensed in response and his grasp became tighter as he rolled his tongue over your clit.
Mirroring him, you teased his cockhead, and only then proceeded to take his length into your mouth, relaxing your jaw and moving slowly to ensure that he would not reflexively buck into you. You flattened your tongue, dragging it along the shaft and spreading spit and precum. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat. With hollowed cheeks you began to bob your head at a leisurely pace and not caring for the mess you were making at the base of his cock, clear liquid running down past the corners of your swollen lips.
Seonghwa produced a muffled noise, unable to stay completely focused while you were driving him towards his high, but not breaking contact. He sucked on your clit, making you whine while deepthroating him. Your eyes were starting to water as you wanted more, always more, and you reached to fondle his balls, pausing to get some air. Strings of saliva and precum momentarily connected you still, and the lewdness of the scene was downright pornographic. You were relentless, addicted to this man whom you had the exclusive ability to call your husband. You were the one who knew how to take him apart and put him back together. 
The wanton sounds of Seonghwa devouring your pussy stimulated you further, and the coil which had been growing tighter with every pass of his skillful tongue was ready to snap and release. A hint of a trembling sensation passed through your legs, and you sped up your own motions, your hand jerking off the base while you swirled over his tip in preparation to take him fully again. 
Seonghwa dipping his tongue between, in and out, and through your wet folds had you seeing stars, and you grinded against him. He gripped you tighter so that you would not be able to instinctively squirm and lift yourself upwards, and circled around your aroused clit, sucking it in between his lips and returning to fucking you with his tongue. His vision was clouded, he was in a daze, unable to process anything anymore, except the static fuzziness in his brain and how delicious you were.
He used up what little attention he had left on your clit, and repeated ministrations had you tipping over the edge and shuddering in his hold. Seonghwa remained buried between your legs as your climax hit you, and held you to prevent your hips from leaving him, and continued to lap at your sopping heat, catching your release. You moaned against his cock, freezing in place and letting your husband chase his high by bucking his hips upwards and using you. In no time, he was painting your mouth and your throat with thick strings of white, falling back onto the bed while you followed to try and swallow as much of his release as you could. Cum and spit was dribbling down your chin and his shaft when you were finished, and once you, with Seonghwa’s help, were laying on your side and face to face with him the unmistakable glistening fluid on his face made you love him all the more. One kiss, another, you tasted yourselves on each other’s lips, choosing to make your lungs scream rather than let go.
He was so beautiful. His loving, electric gaze - a permanent feature of his expression when it came to you. Everything about him was a reason to adore him. You brushed away a strand of hair, one which had stubbornly stuck to his forehead, only for Seonghwa to take your hand in his and plant a soft kiss on its back. You giggled, enjoying the contrast of this intimate, but lighthearted moment as opposed to the passionate exchange earlier. This was how he was, and you would not want him any different. 
You took your time regarding him, and he did the same to you. Blissful, overflowing with a want for more. His lips were on yours again, and you deepened the kiss by bunching his long inky hair in your hand. Every reaction, every gasp was your favourite music. Seonghwa rolled over and positioned himself between your legs, arms on either side. Hair perfectly framed his elegant features, and the shadows cast shapes akin to a painting you would see at a gallery. He was a masterpiece. 
“Lift your hips for me,” you followed his request, wriggling into position while he lifted himself up to take your legs and bend them towards your torso, “thank you, my love… such a pretty pussy, all mine,” the dirty talk came naturally to him, and it was not your first time hearing it, but nonetheless had you biting the inside of your cheek.
Still sensitive, you whispered his name when he glided his hardened cock between your wet folds. Coated in slick and cream, Seonghwa met no resistance and bottomed out in one stroke. Your loud moan prompted words of praise and adoration, and he was certain that nothing could ever be better than this. 
“Ah- just perfect-” you watched his face contort , eyes threatening to roll back as he started to thrust into you. 
You could barely form words, sinking into the pillows and peeking at Seonghwa through half-lidded eyes - the most you could muster. All your senses were filled with him, and you swore you were going to fall apart at any moment. Grateful for his arms supporting your legs, you physically couldn’t resist the drowning pleasure, instead trying your best to keep up with his cock drilling into you, failing whenever it brushed over your sweet spot.
“H-hwa-”
“Mm?”
“Kiss me,” you pleaded, making him push your legs further apart and crawl a little ways over you until his orbs, near black in the dimly lit room, were boring into you.
You intertwined, overlapped, transposed into something greater than yourselves. Sharing the same air, you panted in time with your lover and captured his lips with yours over, and over again. His body was so close to yours, that you could feel his necklace brushing over your chest, occasionally touching your neck. Seonghwa filled you to the hilt, the slight stretch turning your moans into barely audible mewls.
“Please- h-harder- I l-love your cock so mu-uch-”
Seonghwa cursed under his breath, drunk from your choice of words, and with one final kiss curled over you and quickened the rocking of his hips to a brutal euphoria. You were on the verge of melting, bodies turning agonisingly hot with each passing second. Your hands searched for his wrists, weakly wrapping around them for some form of support. Carnal; you were infinitely turned on by how instinctive his reactions were. You could not care for anything in the world, words turning to a garbled mess and moans loudly echoing in your husband’s ears. 
“F-fuck, you feel so good I’m-” he was fisting the bedsheets, ruthlessly pounding into you, the slapping of skin against skin and your sounds making him fall apart. 
His pace faltered as he came, legs shuddering, voice breaking as he unleashed an airy and high-pitched moan, but he still continued to thrust while he filled you with his warm load. He pushed his release deeper inside you, breathing heavily and pressing you more and more into the bedsheets. The squelching was downright filthy, but you wanted to capture every drop and threw your arms around Seonghwa as much as you could given your position, simply so he could be flush against you. He hissed through gritted teeth as your walls began to clench around his aching length, prompting aftershocks from his orgasm.
“Hwa-a, I’m coming, I- don’t stop please-”
“Come for me, love,” his gentleness, even in such a feverish moment, was your undoing. The thread you had been clinging onto snapped.
Your head fell back against the pillows, and if it wasn’t for Seonghwa’s form securing you from above, you knew you would be arching off the bed, uncontrollable. You called out his name like a mantra, and in your ecstatic haze could sense him slowing down, helping both of you ride out your intense climaxes. Vision spinning, you did not dare move, instead transforming into a pliable doll for Seonghwa to rearrange. Shakily, he let go of the bed sheets and sat upright, tapping your legs to relax. Lazily, you stretched out, heart still racing, and barely registered the dip of the mattress next to you. 
When you turned, your husband was there, head resting on his hand, propped up by his elbow. He was studying you with a small smile, and when he noticed you were more present, leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hello,” it was almost unbelievable, just how honey sweet he could be in a matter of seconds, making you more shy than during sex. This made you all too aware and critical of your current state, and you turned your head to search for something to cover yourself with, until you heard a sigh escape your husband, “It’s like I’m dreaming. You’re so enchanting.”
He fell fully by your side, draping an arm over your upper body and gingerly massaging your hip. It was rare for him to not rush to clean both of you off, but you were not complaining about this kind of moment of closeness. It felt raw. It felt real. You got to fall in love for the nth time. Seonghwa’s face was rosy, blushed, and he was just barely steadying himself, but even then, was not letting go of you, choosing to retain all physical proximity in favour of going about routines. HIs cum is smeared over your folds, was dripping onto the covers and had smeared across your inner thighs, you had remnants of spit and release on your face, and yet he was still looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. His one and only. 
“Not too sore? Shall I run a bath?” He poked your nose with his own, grinning when you ran a hand over the side of his face.
“Mm… I’m fine. But a bath would be nice. Can we…”
“Want me to join?”
“Mhm. Want you to give me a head massage.”
“Ah, of course, at your service-”
“Come on…” you chuckled at his joke and trailed off, pausing to stare deep into his eyes, musing everything and nothing all at once.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
“Just thinking how you should send me pictures more often,” a hint of darkness flashed in his eyes; mischief, future schemes formulating themselves. You traced past love bites, ran a finger over his plump lips which were equally as red and swollen as yours, you bet. 
“Mm, you changed your mind I see. None of that ‘I am at work’ anymore, then?”
“Maybe you should be the one who is worried now,” you shot back with a smirk.
Seonghwa sat up, swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed, but turning back to give you one last adoring look before launching into a routine long-familiar to you. In no time, you would be taking careful sips of water while waiting for the bath to fill, and your husband would be telling you to stay put, having returned from the clouds and back to finding it unbearable to have clothes on the floor and creasing. Your heart swelled. He was everything at once, flipping switches, changing from one second to the next while still being his gorgeous self. Before, it had made you confused, flustered. Now, you just loved him. There was no other way to put it. You got to see every curve and edge, and always discovered something new. 
“I’ll be impatiently waiting.”
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hwaightme · 11 days
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Hi, could you do a sickfic with wooyoung asthe caretaker
hi! i don't take requests. if you are interested in a sickfic by me, i have written one called 'feverish' <3
much love <3
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hwaightme · 13 days
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With you
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🫂 pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🫂 genre: comfort, healing from hurt, established long-term relationship, fluff 🫂 summary: even when it feels like the world is crashing down, seonghwa was, is and will be with you. 🫂 wordcount: 2.3k total 🫂 warnings/tags: not edited, implied work challenges, clutter, focus, negative self-perception, crying, negative self-talk, catastrophising, physical/mental health, hugs, sharing struggles, unconditional love, supporting loved ones in darkness, feeling overwhelmed, love does not have a limit or price 🫂 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🫂 a/n: this one was in the drafts, and now completed in a flurry, perhaps having waited for its time. hope you find comfort in this, and have love and your safe space. any notes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated. much love.
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Sometimes, people said it was “not their day” - much like a sudden downpour. Sometimes, they could even say that it was “not their week” - much like a rainy season. For you, well, for you it was starting to turn into “not your life” - a perpetual cacophony of droplets pelting down and taking you with them. Perhaps when you were a child you did not pay much attention to your habits and your natural pitfalls, but as you entered adulthood and launched yourself headfirst into the corporate workforce to play the role of a diligent office worker earning your share and volunteered to take more and more responsibilities in every aspect of life outside of nine to five, cursed quirks were becoming harder and harder to ignore, or rather, to hide.
And this was exactly why you had found yourself in the darkness of your room, wanting to be abandoned by the world, staring at the ceiling and only seeing your mistakes and what had to be overreactions that were accumulating into a colossus faster than a snowball rolling down a hill. Nothing was right, and every single time, you were the one to blame. You couldn’t even change out of your work clothes into what, in your happier times, you called your favourite pyjamas - maybe it was because you were afraid to ruin them too. A rational thought? No. But it somehow ended up making more sense than the bingo card of emotional rollercoaster-inducing nightmares that kept on being filled out.
You did not want to count the minutes, possibly hours that you spent suspended in your own dread and misery. The time must have been considerable, since you could hear the turning of a key, and the slow opening of the front door to welcome none other than the subject of one of your present flavours of despair. Anticipating disaster, you curled up into a ball on the cold, now messy bed, and tried your best to force any tears away. Sleeves rubbing at wet cheeks and eyes, you did not want your boyfriend to see you like this. Weak, helpless, broken. Worn down into nothing more than the clumsy disappointment with medical bills and chaotic thought processes you actually have been all along. What a tragic ‘big reveal’. Absorbing everything around you and spilling out everything brewing within - you should have trusted those who had told you that you would make anyone and everyone run away. Who would want someone who couldn’t sort out their own messes before making another? Who would be able to stand someone who could barely last a day before ruining a piece of clothing, losing or breaking something, and on the better days almost guaranteeing a stain in the oddest place or some kind of trail of a sloppy existence? How could anyone rely on you when you could not even sort out your own noise?
With a trembling lip, you watched scenarios flash before your sore eyes of how Seonghwa would undoubtedly hate you. And when you heard a sigh travel from the corridor and crash against your eardrums, you knew that at the end of the day, all those people who had been saying the same thing over, and over, and over again to you were right. Until knuckles were starting to turn white you clutched at the material of the throw that had been lying on top of the sheets - without a doubt a protective measure, and here you were, ruining things. Never in anyone’s plans, you were an elephant in a porcelain shop. An elephant who should be put far, far away from anything human. An insensitive crybaby who both physically and mentally represented discord. You couldn’t even-
“Y/N, how many times did I tell you to not leave your shoes at the-”
Here. It. Was. The end. It had to be. It had to be the grand finale to what sliver of happiness you had left in your life. The little bit of festive cheer was already starting to evaporate, you could sense it. Soon, he would utter the words you had imagined many times. Soon, you would be alone and lonely. Soon, you would be where you were supposed to be according to what others established you deserved. You couldn’t breathe, with your back turned to the door, you could only sense your boyfriend’s presence, and catch the hint of a shadow falling over your frail, exhausted form. 
“-Y/N?”
You did not dare answer, no matter how sweet, or how supposedly concerned Seonghwa sounded. He could be coaxing you out of your cave to scold you, or better yet, recite all the words you despised, but had grown used to hearing. The only thing on your mind was the thousand things you managed to ‘achieve’ today. One of them included those shoes.
“Hey… talk to me,” voice more gentle, barely above a whisper, floats across the room and practically caresses your head. You couldn’t move. He would be disappointed even more if you were to do anything. You should pretend you were just a pile of laundry, maybe then it would all stop and you wouldn’t be out here losing buttons, breaking baubles and scratching up perfectly good heels. 
You sensed a dip on the bed. A warm presence. Your boyfriend scooted closer to you until you could feel him leaning over towards you, his chest hovering just above your side. The most impossible feat in the world was to hide yourself from him, but you could not help but try with all your might. A shiver jolted over your body despite you still being in a woollen sweater, resulting in a familiar, loving hand finding purchase on your upper arm. The thumb traced abstract shapes in a soothing motion, and soon enough, you were being turned a little ways backwards. Face to face with fear, you felt the tears that had stalled in a panic threatening to spill over once again.
“Have you… have you been crying?” despite being in the semi-darkness, the glistening trails on your cheeks must have given you away. One peck, another delivered by Seonghwa’s plush lips while a soft hand positioned itself on the side of your face, preventing you from hiding yourself, “...oh baby please, tell me, what happened?” 
Your eyes bore into his, not dissimilar to a deer caught in the headlights, as though you had been spotted committing a crime. While you had been in a relationship with a man who you swore was an angel for a considerable amount of time, so substantial in fact that you had a shared lease under both of your names like proper adults sometimes decided to do, there was one thing that you could not bear to do - burden him with your troubles. You could not allow yourself to complain, instead choosing to bottle up all the miniature disasters into one catastrophic potion, waiting until it bubbles over and only then crawling towards salvation in the form of a long shower where no one could hear you cry. It had to be you who was wrong, anyways. It was always you. Even in things that were meant to be outside of your control, you felt guilty, repeating this to yourself until illusion became fact.
It was always you who had forgotten to take something out to defrost or had not checked the mail again. Always you who had not put some abstract item away, or you did but not in the right place. Always you who had not found the energy or the time to clean something or to water the plants. It was you and your family and your friends who had to untie Gordian knots, and you were the weakling who cried, and cried and cried while others seemed to be able to stand tall and face any challenge. In the inevitable times of a storm, be it your own or another’s you were the thin and hollow piece of straw that was bent in the wind and all the previous beauty crumbled to join the rotting ground. Your inner voice was loud and hurtful, blockading you from believing in anything else except the fact that you could not handle a simple twenty four hours. A tiny piece of news, a tiny little change be it in schedule or tone, a little hurdle all had the capability to ruin you and make you fall, leading you to how you were now. Did you try to manage? Of course you did, always. Was it enough? Never.
“Hug?” There it was. An offer that could never be refused. Perhaps this was the last ever time you would be allowed to come so close to the love of your life. Heart to heart, the delightful, comforting scent of vanilla being the only thing on the senses.
With a quick gesture, Seonghwa encouraged you to roll over completely, and lift yourself so he could wrap his arms around you, as though sheltering you from a storm. His chin nestled into the crook of your neck, and he tightened his embrace until you had no choice but to give into the comfort. Tired body and mind, unwinding at his touch, falling apart only to be rebuilt again, better, brighter, warmer. The long-awaited spring. Legs folded, you wriggled to close whatever space was left between your bodies, grabbing a fistful of his black turtleneck sweater as though to confirm that this wonderful man was real. Indeed, he was. More than real. As real as the kiss he planted on your cheek. As real as the reassurance that poured from his soul without any words uttered. Well, none except:
“Let’s walk through it, okay?”
Your head - fuzzy from the overflowing tears and emotional haze. Your eyes, puffed up and reddened. And even then, Seonghwa was looking at you as though you were the one to hang the moon and the stars. How could you dare disappoint him and bring him down by being such a disaster? You could feel another burst of terror and despair welling up and threatening to spill over, and it appeared that your boyfriend did too, for the speed with which he pressed you impossibly close to himself was beyond your comprehension. It was as if he was trying to squeeze every bit of pain out of you, sorry that you had to feel what you were feeling, sorry that he could not take it away.
“I’m with you, Y/N. I’m always with you…” soft whispers - sharp swords on your dark consciousness, slashing at the demons that had been rearing their ugly heads again and again for however long. You had stopped counting after a couple weeks, pretending that they could be kept under control. Again, how wrong you were.
He was neat. Seonghwa was borderline pedantic at times, but you were convinced that that was the exact reason why the walls of your home had not come down yet. But, if it meant that you would be calmer, and you could see more sunshine in your inner world, he would let you cry into every single sweater, every single shirt, and would never dare let you go. If there was one thing he was infuriated by, was by whatever or whoever had ingrained in you that hiding was the same as powering through.
“I’m done, Seonghwa… I’m so tired…” you sobbed into the warmth of his chest, allowing for everything you had been holding back to flow through and out of you.
“We’re together, so we will make it through. Through everything. Whatever happens, happens so that the future can happen. We will power through it,” he repeated the words like a mantra, aware of the turmoil that he had to combat to get to you, but was going to never give up trying. 
“I feel… so small…”
“We can do it,” he cut you off, planting another velvety peck on your head before rocking gently side to side, running a hand over and over again down your back.
“So… so small…” the words disappeared, swallowed by an indescribable void that came with the onset of fatigue.
“I love you so much, Y/N. You hear me?” How could he? This was a question you would never be able to answer, but you thanked every part of the universe for giving such a blessing to you.
“I- I love you so… so much too…”
“So you and I, right now, we will lie right here, breathe, and then put all of the little pieces in order okay?”
“O-okay.”
“We share everything. Mhm?”
“Everything…”
A silence. Pangs of fatigue and worry about everything under the sun were not yet abating, but were becoming easier to manage as you focused on Seonghwa’s steady breathing, and the rhythmic thrum of his golden heart. You pulled away, admiring every part of him, not wanting to focus on anything else. You drifted into a trance, sinking deeper and deeper into his adoring gaze, unbroken. His hands found yours, thumbs tracing your skin in that same lulling way. You watched his lips as they let another miracle wash over you:
“I am so happy that I am with you.”“Even-”
“Especially. We. Yeah? We. And because we are ‘we’, we will make it through everything.”
The words echoed in your mind as you gave the love of your life a tiny smile. Your person. The one who was always on your team, even when you tried to delude yourself into thinking the opposite. He was here. With you. Through all the downs, through all the ups. When you know what is happening and when you need a little more time to figure things out. You and Seonghwa are here and will be here. Together.
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hwaightme · 14 days
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Love was spring
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💮 pairing: seonghwa x gn!reader 💮 genre: comfort, fluff, tid-bits of angst, strangers to lovers 💮 summary: following a serendipitous meeting with you, seonghwa blooms in love after heartbreak, and learns that "if you intend to love a single flower, you must love its generation and extinction, presence and absence." - Do Jonghwan 💮 wordcount: 2.6k 💮 warnings/tags: allusion to idol!hwa, heartbreak, recovering from heartbreak, flora, cherry blossom season, implied ideation of death, time, healing, overcoming hardships, rainy days, discussion of life and its meaning, reassurance, meaning of forever 💮 a/n: the sentimental mood, bittersweet reminiscence have not left me after listening to Seonghwa's cover of Angel Baby, so I hope you enjoy my expression of this <3 Thank you so much to Sky (@/legohwas) for reading and for helping with the name, forever grateful<33 Much love and any reblogs, comments, thoughts and notes welcome!
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Love was pernicious when the soul was a snow-covered, sleeping tree - a notion that Seonghwa had been unfortunate enough to explore, and a terror to experience. In the flickering embers of what used to be a blazing passion, Seonghwa had remained intentionally oblivious to himself, and to the troubles that constructed a suffocating enclosure around him until catastrophe was imminent. When he had been at his lowest and needed precious love and unconditional support the most, he had been left to perish in the lonely silence, accompanied solely by the drumming of a biting cold winter rain. That day, his heart had joined the millions of droplets by shattering into a myriad of miniscule white flowers, only for their pure luminescence to be extinguished in the blink of an eye and blend with the wet concrete as sickly grey sludge.
As he watched the sun leave his life, the back of the one who had all his adoration and had promised him a forever turning into that of a total stranger, he ceased to believe in the feeling. If it was something so easily disposed of, equivalent to the passivity one experienced when discarding a plastic wrapper or an old, useless and broken toy, then he did not want any part in this farce. Evidently, he had been mistaken in his romanticisms, in his dreams and in his vision of soulmates, and thus, in his future.
Nights blended into days, remaining colourless as Seonghwa drifted in a melancholic somnolence. A hollow shell of a human being, he did what he had to do to be deemed functional enough, competent enough, acceptable enough for the rotating cogs of the societal machine. Seonghwa smiled, because his muscles were trained to do so. He refined his movements in a complex dance routine, because he could dissociate from his inner turbulence. But, in the darkness of his room where he had long ceased to turn on the light out of fear that he would see the ghosts of his history, he let himself collapse onto his bed and study the vapid monotony of his ceiling, so intently that he saw a reflection of his own heartache and misery in the off-white paint.
Amidst his endless search for some form of relief, the dark-haired man had taken to visiting the same bridge every rainy evening. The very bridge on which he had parted with the one who he had called the love of his life, physically metamorphosing into nothing but a black dot with every confident step away from him, but still having the ability to transform into a festering wound in his cranium. Seonghwa had nothing left to give, and yet he kept on hoping that one day everything could turn around, and the sun would shine once more. Alas, the rain had only gotten stronger, until the unforgiving element was a loyal spirit hovering above his lowered head.
Pulling the heavy weight of fate behind him, Seonghwa trudged to the bridge once more, turning in the direction of the flowing river and regarding the way in which large droplets collided with the surface, disturbing an otherwise innocent, serene mirror of the sky. Collapsing onto the stone guardrail, he peered at the waters below absent-mindedly and toyed with the idea of becoming a leaf, be it an oak or a maple; exist to gather energy, give, give and give some more only to break away from familiar territories and succumb to eternal rest on the current’s bubbling surface. A long, tranquil holiday. Away from all of this. Away from judgement, misinterpretation, anxiety that gnawed at his insides like a voracious dog. If only Seonghwa had known that it would turn out like this; then he would have never given into the silly risk that was now poisoning his thoughts, his feelings, and was rapidly approaching his actions. 
And it was at that moment, in the desperate solitude, amidst a battle with himself that he met you, and the unforgiving downpour cowered in your radiance.
“Hey, you come here often?” The cheesy phrase pulled him out of his ruminations, and he spun his head around to register the source of sound, finally stumbling upon a figure wrapped up in a raincoat, face partially hidden by an umbrella. Out of politeness, he chose to respond to the mysterious passer-by, flabbergasted when the umbrella moved to reveal a megawatt grin and an adorable face. While you looked to be about his age, you possessed a fascinating contrast of wise eyes that gave the impression of having seen many lives, wonders and displeasures of the world, and the refreshed, youthful face with the faintest natural blush coating your cheeks. In his mind, you were the promise of spring after a detestable, incorrigibly brutal winter.
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Love was assuaged grief when the soul was the bare branches of a cherry blossom tree, early buds only just beginning to peek out from their bundled cots, and revealing their youthful colours against the warm grey bark that was decorated with memories of past trials and tribulations; an ode to time itself. This was a notion which you had proposed to Seonghwa amidst your improvised performances - an attempt to elicit at least the ghost of a priceless smile. After the initial meeting, you had come to cross paths more and more often, until serendipitous grew into coincidental, grew into intentional. And for the first time, Seonghwa found his footsteps and his heart getting lighter, and the rain no longer provoked despondent rumination, leaving the cyclical, habitual aches that only time could heal.
The routine was simple. Every evening when the sleepless sky caressed the earth with millions of diamonds that connected to form thousands of threads, embellishing the heavens and tying the mortal and the timeless, you would meet. Same bridge. Same time. Same umbrella, decorated with ornate flowers. You had not asked Seonghwa for much, except to show up, and to bring you a story that brought him warmth. Even if the side effect of the otherwise happy and reassuring memory was a stray tear or two. Raindrops, condensation of the soul, you called them. Trickling reminders that he was able to feel and was capable of knowing when he was on cloud nine prior to entering his period of monsoons and thunderstorms.
Each rainy night, of which there were many, come early signs of the spring season, he recounted what love had meant for him before being subdued by a ruthless frost. How he had traversed each city believing that he finally understood the meaning of utopia and paradise, only for the rose glasses that he had unknowingly been given to be shattered, leaving him experientially blind. Suspended in his retrospections, Seonghwa ambled through his mind’s labyrinth as he divulged the stories of the many shops, cafes and quiet cobbled streets he had visited, with the memories now having transformed into bitter anguish.
The more he shared, the more despicable the prior fondness became. How dare this terror haunt him so? How dare the scenes appear before him in a warm sepia tone, when Seonghwa wanted nothing more but to let them go? He wanted to shed the dead leaves. Anything to submit to an unfeeling winter for a while, for the remnants of the prologue to his solitude to be frozen solid.
“You may wish to forget and say it never happened, it is only natural. But sooner or later, the ice and snow will melt and all that you had buried will be streaming down memory lane and back into your heart.”
“I suppose, but either way I will be thinking about it. So what does it matter if I think about it now, or later?”
“Acceptance, Seonghwa. Acceptance. With steady reflection and time dedicated to yourself rather than your demons comes acceptance. As you’re healing, the sun shines brighter, the days get longer, and the world awakens. It would be a shame to miss the spring, don’t you think?”
He lowered his head in silent musing, letting your words echo in his head before turning to survey the landscape. This was his first venture in the park near the bridge, despite him passing by it countless times. It had been a setting, a backdrop for his chilling thoughts, so deeply entrenched in periphery that he had never even considered stopping and admiring it. And now, with you, he felt that it was right that he did - without you walking by his side, finally having let him take a hold of your umbrella and hold it above your heads, he doubted he would find this collection of bare trees, murky ponds and meandering cement paths as miraculous as he did now. You pointed out the buds, so young they were a pale turquoise, and the fresh grass, thin lines of green among the wilted greys and browns. 
Perhaps this was what you envisioned when you talked of love. The nightfall turning into sunset as the clocks chimed the same hour. The same tree, adorned with the promise of a stunning canopy. The same memories, but with each passing day, growing brighter and lighter, until they turned into white clouds floating across the skies of sweet daydreams, serving as nothing more than a signifier of a past that had paved the way towards a marvellous present. If this was what you envisioned, then, certainly, this was what Seonghwa wanted to learn to feel.
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Love was harmonious when the soul was the flurry of cherry blossom petals dancing in the wind, enveloping the beholder in the spring embrace and decorating the world in a snowlike carpet and in baby pink. While the tree did not bloom for long, reaching its most beautiful peak and burning out at times in a matter of days, the fleeting, divine glory that it achieved was what you and Seonghwa would consider an eternity. If anything, the growth, the blossoming, the fall were reflections of every living organism in the expanse of space and time; a slow inhale, and a level, measured out exhale all in the hopes of a next cycle. 
“You know, Seonghwa, I think that every single person is like a cherry blossom tree. Grand, ever-expanding, unique… bare. However, our identity, our interests, our friends and family… fans, they are all blossoms, leaves, the curvature in the bark that decorates the magnificent branches.”
Your musings were Seonghwa’s favourite pastime and focus, the words forming philosophical symphonies as he let himself be guided from one piece to the next. He had found comfort in sharing his troubles with you, and as soon as the weather had gotten warm enough for you to be able to do so, sitting side by side under the awakening flora to ponder their meaning into a fuzzy abstraction. The conversation had stemmed from your observation of the falling flowers, appearing to be shed as soon as they blossomed. Taking note of the lack of regal white robes on some of the branches, Seonghwa had pointed out that they might have been stolen away by the heavy rain last night, thus falling into a moment of melancholy as he recollected the circumstances of your first meeting.
Gently, you placed a hand over his in an expression of reassurance and a reminder that you, indeed, were here with him, and were not striving for impermanence. Turning his own hand so the palm was facing upwards, he intertwined your fingers together, comfortable with the sweet affection, since the throngs of observers hungry for photographs of the blossoms at their most splendid had long whittled down to lazy stragglers. They still retained a sliver of a chance to capture the grandeur of the remaining veterans before they too would join the fallen white raindrop, preferred to amble past, enraptured by their own routines, their own growth, their own blossoms.
“Flora has its life cycles. The same goes for everything in life. Some things and people appear and disappear in a single season, with only pictures or a passing thought to retain them in your psyche, whilst others, either on their own accord or by joining forces with like minded souls become a continuous presence. You see, even those who you had to say goodbye to were precious. Because they are irreversibly a part of you. Anything you do, anyone you meet is an addition to that beautiful blossoming tree, just like you are to theirs.”
Seonghwa shifted his gaze towards you, taking in your serenity as you basked in the April sun. Leaving behind the flowery umbrella and with it the rainy days, he was caught in a silent bliss, eagerly waiting for each tomorrow, all while living vicariously through every today. He found himself reconnecting with passion, with art. No longer was he functioning for the sake of appearances, but was well and truly living. After having assumed he had to love only beauty and solely seek perfection - the exact notion which had resulted in his near demise, it was a breath of fresh, resurrecting air to discover that to truly love, meant to love the silence, the obsoletion and the absence. Now, as one season changed into another, and as gorgeous blossoms fell to turn into colourful water streams he was able to sit back and quietly observe the metamorphosis instead of mourning it. Because he knew that this meant there would be a future, with new colours, new leaves, new blossoms.
“Life does not stand still…” he murmured, squeezing your hand ever so slightly, a warmth spreading in his chest as your eyes met his and your lips curled into a soft, adorable gleam. 
“And what do you think about that?” you held your breath, your heart swelling with pride as you urged Seonghwa to go on.
“I find it to be… like love itself. Even in the quietude of the branches left bare, the fondness and awareness of knowing they had once been home to thousands of petals makes it worth it. And, as such, they never leave, turning into a transformative forever.”
The heavens sighed, a strong breeze washing over the park, your two forms settled on the wooden bench, the shedding canopies of white. Blossoms erupted in a visual catharsis, and scattered across the earth as far as the eye could see. The final flickers of this beautiful season’s embers. And yet, it did not feel like a dismal, all-encompassing finale, but rather the end of the beginning. While Seonghwa did not know what this renaissance would bring, and what florescence shall be his future guide, he was confident that in his newfound tranquillity, you were the reason why loving was easy. Why love was like being brought back to life.
“It is easy to believe in ‘the end’. And takes an infinite, intrinsic love, transcending time and seasons to believe in ‘forever’.” you agreed, and gazed at the scene before you. The glimmering waters of a pond - the sky’s mirror, dotted with brilliant ethereal cotton, soothed by the wind’s caresses. You and Seonghwa watched on as the floral dancers cascaded down in their closing act, elegantly waving their farewells before settling on lapping foam. 
Slowly, he was learning the intricacies, the little things that formed a delicate equilibrium that was adoration, devotion, enamourment. Equanimous, Seonghwa wanted nothing more than to live in this ever-changing present, and, with you, love the beauty and the silence after it had fallen.
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hwaightme · 17 days
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i bring you flowery hwa <3
fdhjfgdl that makes me very happy, i'm really glad you like how i speak about hwa <3 and yes!! he is very spring-coded indeed~
oh that is so precious!! i hope things turn out super well and you will be very happy with both the journey and the destination where you will find yourself being in the future <3
and yes, sweetheart~
BUBBIE !! have you seen this picture of seonghwa??? he looks so sweet dreamy and kind 🥹 kinda getting sweet librarian, kindergarten teacher, or barista vibes from this picture. ik he loves his hair long so i hope he can keep growing it out more
how was your day? how have you been!
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hello lovely <333 AAAA THANK YOU FOR SENDING THISSSS oh my goodness i am and always will be enamoured with this look ;~; he gives 70's nostalgia, a sweet daydream or memory, a paradise in a sepia filter...
omg all these scenarios sound so so adorable! maybe this is me being affected by the season, but spring feel is *there*. windows open to let a fresh breeze in, warm glances, and a light heart.
(don't mind me putting songs that gave me this energy here:)
Sunflower by DOHU
너를 사랑하고 있어 (my love) by Baekhyun
Matsuri by Fujii Kaze
a miniature vision: seonghwa quietly passes you a book with a soft smile on his face, and when you flick through it, you find a pressed flower between the pages - one of your favourites. "this was the work you were looking for, wasn't it?" it is, but while searching, you have found so, so much more than just the novel. you grin back in silent understanding. lost and found, and here to stay.
my time has been alright~ hopefully will be getting better as i take things easy and enjoy the waking of the world (i have a mild - read as any antonym to that - fondness for cherry blossoms). how are your march days going? how have you been? <3
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