mocchiixxx

[mocchiixxx]

joshu_acoustic IG Update

Pov: Your boyfriend loves to update you on what he's doing through pictures.

[mocchiixxx]

The shyness. The giggles. The HAPPINESS. My boys are BACKKKKK

[mocchiixxx]

Yoon Jeonghan😭🫶🫶

It's really nice to know that he's doing good and in a good condition! Congratulations on your graduation day today, Hannie! We're so proud of you. Serve well and comeback to us healthy and safe. Hanniehae!🫶🫶💗🩵

[mocchiixxx]

Say It Again, Shua

Genre: Fluff, slice-of-life, soft!joshua, rare cursing, forehead kisses

Warning: Contains one instance of light cursing (for fluff’s sake!)

Summary: Joshua never curses— ever. But when he slips up? You’re obsessed. Cue puppy eyes, forehead kisses, and him doing everything but saying it again.

The soft hum of rain tapped gently against the windows, and your shared apartment was cast in a warm, golden glow from the dim lamps and candles you’d both lit. You were curled up on the couch, your legs draped over Joshua’s lap as he absentmindedly traced circles along your shin, a book resting closed in your lap.

“You know,” you began, voice light, “I think I’ve seen you angry maybe… twice? Ever?”

Joshua looked up from the manga he was flipping through, an amused brow raised.

“Angry? Me?”

“Okay, not like mad mad, just… upset. And even then you still sounded like you were in a Disney movie,” you teased, nudging his arm with your toes.

He chuckled, the kind of soft laugh that started in his chest and warmed every corner of a room. “I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered.”

“I mean it in the best way possible! You’re just... so gentle,” you said sincerely, eyes softening. “Even when you curse— wait, you don’t curse. That’s the thing. You never curse.”

Joshua shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “I don’t really like to.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed dramatically, leaning back against the armrest. “Which is exactly why it’s so attractive when you do slip up.”

He laughed again, this time in disbelief. “Attractive? When I curse?”

“Are you kidding?” you sat up straighter, placing your hand over your heart. “The first time you muttered ‘shit’ under your breath because you dropped your guitar pick, I nearly levitated.”

Joshua snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true! You were so flustered, and I was just sitting there like—” you widened your eyes, raising your brows in mock shock, mimicking your expression. “Joshua Hong?? The Christian golden retriever?? Said a curse word?? It was iconic.”

He shook his head, clearly amused but not convinced. “It’s not a big deal. It just happens sometimes. When I stub my toe or something.”

“Oh no no,” you said, crawling toward him on your knees, placing your chin on his shoulder. “It’s the fact that you do it so rarely. It’s like spotting a unicorn swearing. Magical. Unexpected. Beautiful.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he said with a grin, tipping his head against yours.

Suddenly, he moved to get up from the couch, mumbling, “Ah, where’s the charger, ah, damn it—”

You froze.

He froze.

You blinked.

He blinked.

A slow grin stretched across your face. “Did you just say ‘damn it’?”

Joshua groaned softly. “No. I mean— yes. But— ugh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It just slipped out.”

You were already crawling across the cushions like a delighted cat. “Say it again.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come onnnn, Shua,” you whined, resting your chin on his shoulder again. “Please?”

He looked down at you with exasperated fondness. “You are literally the only person who would hear me curse and ask for an encore.”

You batted your eyelashes, full puppy-mode activated. “Just one more time.”

“No.”

“Pretty please?” you pouted, widening your eyes until they shimmered under the candlelight. “With a forehead kiss on top?”

Joshua stared at you for a beat, clearly at war with himself. Then, sighing dramatically, he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head like you were the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

You melted instantly, momentarily forgetting the curse entirely.

“…Wait,” you murmured, remembering, “You didn’t say it again.”

“That was the plan,” he whispered, lips still close to your skin.

You squinted. “You’re sneaky.”

He pulled back, eyes twinkling. “I know. It’s part of my charm.”

You buried your face in his chest with a muffled, “But I love it when you curse just a little. Just for me.”

Joshua sighed like he was suffering, but his arms came around you anyway. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“You’d go out cursing,” you said with a muffled laugh.

He pulled away just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers. “You really want to hear it again?”

You nodded, pupils sparkling.

He lowered his voice to a whisper, leaned in dramatically, and said:

“Darn.”

You deadpanned.

Joshua burst into laughter, throwing his head back while you smacked his chest.

“You are infuriating.”

“And yet you’re still cuddling me.”

You sighed, already settling back into his warmth, legs tangled with his again. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know,” he said, kissing your forehead again. “And holy.”

You snorted. “Holy my—”

“Watch it,” he warned playfully.

“Say it again and I’ll behave.”

He narrowed his eyes, then leaned in and whispered the word again, just for you, a little breathier, low enough to make your heart flutter.

You covered your face with your hands, giggling. “You’re too powerful.”

Joshua grinned and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Only with you, angel.”

A/N; Is it just me or really, Its already been a year and a few months since I become an active fan of Seventeen (know them since 2021 but and just actively Stan them on 2024) but still, I rarely caught or see Joshua curse or he's just sneaky?

[mocchiixxx]

You're driving me crazy Mr. Choi! 🥵🍒

“Skip the same age guys, thirty is even better.” Just look at CHOI SEUNGCHEOL, bruhhh!!🔥 He got that rich daddy vibes. The one who'll spoil you and treat you like a princess and punish you like a brat.

[mocchiixxx]

THUNDER IS COMING Y'ALL

This Comeback's gonna be iconic. The teaser is already insane, what more if the whole MV comes out? This is gonna be crazy y'all!!😎🔥🔥New SEVENTEEN's gonna dominate💯

[mocchiixxx]

He's so savage for saying this🤣👏

He's telling the truth though. Slay, Kim Mingyu!🫶💯

[mocchiixxx]

[GOING SEVENTEEN] COMEBACK SPECIAL : SEVENTEEN TV #1

Mingyu, why did you do Vernon like that? Lmao🤣 You should watch the latest GoSe episode, their acting really got me. Seungkwan and Dk reneacting their iconic fight was really intense and Jun's tattoo? They followed him in the bathroom just to see where it was placed HAHAHAHA I'd say give them the OSCAR, they're such a great actors, Seungkwan especially, I almost cry watching his almost teary eyes during the argument. Proud of them all. This GoSe comeback is pretty intense, 1M/10🥰🫶♥️

[mocchiixxx]

The Woman Who Tamed Sassy Boo

Boo Seungkwan x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Slice of Life , Idol AU, Whipped Boyfriend Agenda

Summary: SEVENTEEN is used to Seungkwan’s endless sass— until his girlfriend steps in. With just a look, she tames him into the softest, sweetest boyfriend, leaving the group in shock. SEVENTEEN can’t help but tease, but they all agree: Seungkwan’s totally whipped.

If SEVENTEEN had to describe Seungkwan in one word, it’d be sass. Loud, sharp, and delightfully dramatic, Seungkwan was the group’s undisputed queen of comebacks. No one, and we mean no one, escaped his side-eyes or clapbacks.

Until she came along.

It happened one quiet evening at the dorm. The members were lounging in the living room when the front door opened and in walked Seungkwan’s girlfriend.

“Hi, baby,” she called sweetly.

Seungkwan, who had just finished roasting DK’s snack choices, turned around and instantly softened like butter on a hot pan.

“Hi, love,” he beamed, voice going up an octave. He practically skipped over to her, taking her bag like a gentleman. “You must be tired. Did you eat? Should I get you something?”

SEVENTEEN collectively paused. 

No snark. No sass. Just baby voice and boyfriend energy.

The silence was broken by Mingyu choking on his soda.

A few minutes later, she playfully poked his cheek. “You didn’t fight with anyone today, right?”

“Me? Fight?” Seungkwan gasped. “I’m a sweet boy!”

Jun nearly dropped his phone. “You literally called Vernon a soggy tissue five minutes ago!”

His girlfriend turned to Seungkwan with a raised brow. “Boo Seungkwan…”

And like a scolded puppy, Seungkwan turned to Vernon and bowed. “I apologize, vernon. You are not a soggy tissue. You are… an absorbent and useful one.”

“WHAT?” Dk barked, wheezing.

That was only the beginning.

When she was around, Seungkwan’s sass had a limit. She’d raise a finger, and he’d instantly zip his mouth. She’d give him a look, and he’d turn into a bashful, obedient boyfriend.

“Did you just… blink sass out of him?” Hoshi whispered one night after Seungkwan nearly roasted Joshua for breathing too loudly, only to stop mid-sentence when she raised an eyebrow.

“Honestly, queen behavior,” said Jeonghan, slow clapping.

Over time, it became a running gag: whenever Seungkwan got too sassy, someone would yell, “Should we call her?”

And Seungkwan would go silent.

But truthfully? He didn’t mind. He loved that she could match him, balance him, and keep him in check, not by scolding, but just by being someone he wanted to be better around.

Because even Boo Seungkwan, king of sass, found someone who made him want to be soft.

And every time she left, he’d go, “You guys better behave. My queen is watching.”

[mocchiixxx]

Words in Ruin Series # | 13: Lee Chan (Dino) 🦦

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Emotional Healing

Warnings: Shouting, emotional distress, crying, reconciliation, self-doubt

Summary: Dino, always the youngest, has learned to hide his stress and worries behind his energetic and playful persona. But when he’s pushed to his limit by the pressures of being the youngest member in the group, it takes a toll on him. After an argument, he finds himself regretting his harsh words, realizing that the person he cares for the most is the one who ended up getting hurt.

The silence in the apartment was louder than any music blasting from speakers. It wrapped around you like a cold blanket, sharp and suffocating.

You looked at the untouched plates on the table, steam now long gone, leaving the food lukewarm and forgotten.

You had timed the dinner perfectly, hoping he’d walk in and smile, maybe even chuckle at the heart-shaped rice you’d molded just to see him laugh again. But when the door creaked open and Chan stepped inside, your heart dropped.

He didn’t look up. Didn’t speak. He didn’t even smile.

Just the soft shuffle of his shoes being kicked off, his bag sliding off his shoulder and hitting the couch with a thud. You stood slowly from your seat, hands nervously twisting the hem of your sweater.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice cautious. “You’re home.”

No response. Not even a glance.

“I made dinner… I thought you’d be hungry. You’ve been working nonstop lately.”

“I’m not,” he muttered, barely audible. “Hungry.”

The words were clipped. Tired. Not angry, not cold just… numb. And maybe that was worse.

Still, you tried. “You probably barely had anything for lunch. You should eat something before you—”

“I said I’m not hungry!” he snapped, finally looking at you, eyes rimmed with exhaustion and something else you couldn’t quite name, bitterness? Helplessness?

You froze.

A pause.

Then silence.

He sighed heavily, brushing past you as he ran a hand through his already messy hair.

“Why do you always do this?” he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for you to hear.

You swallowed hard, the question like a punch to the gut. “Do what?”

“Push. Ask. Hover. It’s like, like you don’t trust me when I say I’m fine.”

“Because I know you’re not,” you replied, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay calm.

“You’re not okay, Chan. You’ve been zoning out, barely eating, barely talking. That’s not fine.”

“God,” he exhaled sharply, eyes closing in frustration. “Why does everyone expect me to be okay all the time? Why can’t I just have one day where I don’t have to smile or talk or act like I have everything together?”

You took a step toward him, careful. “You can. You can break down with me. You don’t have to pretend—”

“But I do!” he yelled suddenly, his voice breaking as it echoed through the apartment. “I’m the youngest! The one who’s always supposed to bounce back. Be funny. Be bright. Keep the mood up when everyone else is tired. You think that’s easy?”

His chest heaved. You stood still, heart pounding.

“I’m not a kid anymore, but everyone still looks at me like I should be okay with being treated like one,” he said, his voice lower now, shaking. “And when I mess up, it’s like it hits ten times harder. Because I’m not allowed to mess up. I have to prove myself. Every damn day.”

Your voice cracked when you spoke again. “I never asked you to prove anything to me…”

He looked at you and for the first time, you saw it.

Not frustration. Not anger. But pain. Raw and unfiltered.

“I know you didn’t,” he whispered. “But that’s what makes it worse.”

He sank onto the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, hands covering his face. You approached slowly and sat beside him, unsure whether to reach for him or give him space. The silence hung heavy again, but this time, it wasn’t cold. It was vulnerable.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he murmured through his fingers. “I just… I’ve been trying so hard not to fall apart, and tonight I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

You reached out, gently removing his hands from his face. “Why not?”

“Because you’re the only place I feel normal. Safe. If I fall apart here too… then where do I go?”

Your heart broke at his honesty.

You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his tense frame. He hesitated, then melted into the embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His body shook against yours, quiet sobs breaking free from the dam he'd been holding back for far too long.

“I’m so tired,” he whispered. “So tired of pretending.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” you whispered back. “Not ever.”

His grip on you tightened. He clung to you like a lifeline, the dam fully broken now. You held him like he was something precious and he was.

You rocked him gently, pressing soft kisses to his temple, letting your warmth tell him what words never could: You are not alone. Not in this. Not ever.

After a while, he pulled back, eyes red but clearer than they’d been in weeks.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” he said hoarsely. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“I forgive you,” you said without hesitation. “Because I know you were hurting.”

He smiled faintly. “I just didn’t know how to say it. I’ve been holding it all in for so long. Trying to be okay because… because if I’m not, then who am I, right?”

“You’re still Chan,” you said. “Still the one who works so hard. Still the one who cares so much. But even the strongest need rest. Even the brightest stars need time to breathe.”

He leaned his forehead against yours. “How do you always know what to say?”

“I don’t,” you chuckled softly. “I just love you. And when you love someone, you learn how to hold them through the worst of their storms.”

That night, the apartment didn’t feel so cold. The food stayed untouched, but hearts were healed instead.

And for the first time in a long while, Dino let himself rest, not just physically, but emotionally, in the arms of someone who saw past the cheerful mask and loved every broken, exhausted part of him.

Taglist: @babycaratdeul @viacb97 @christinewithluv

[mocchiixxx]

16 Tracks in One Album??🔥🔥

Hold up, So Happy Burst Day SEVENTEEN Comeback anniversary has 16 song in the tracklist and all 13 members have a Solo song???? WE'RE GETTING AN 0T13 SOLO SONG EVERYONEEEEE!!!🥹😭🫶

[mocchiixxx]

Words in Ruin Series # | 12 : Chwe Hansol (Vernon) 🐢

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Healing, Miscommunication

Warnings: Shouting, emotional breakdown, crying, comfort and reconciliation

Summary: Vernon is usually the laid-back, composed type, preferring quiet moments over the chaos of fame. But the constant pressure and never-ending schedule have begun to break him down. One evening, after a particularly exhausting day, he takes out his frustrations on you, and the harsh words cut deeper than he intended. Regret comes quickly, but it’s hard to undo the hurt.

You stared at the clock for what must've been the tenth time. It was almost midnight, and Vernon still wasn’t home.

The food on the table had long since gone cold. You sighed, setting down your phone after reading the same message you'd sent him two hours ago:

“Are you okay? I’m worried.” No reply.

Then finally, the door creaked open.

You sat up immediately. “Hansol?”

Vernon walked in with heavy steps. He looked exhausted. His shoulders slumped like the weight of the world was dragging him down. He didn’t even glance at you as he took off his shoes and dropped his bag by the door.

“You’re late,” you said quietly, trying to keep your tone light. “I made dinner.”

“I already ate,” he muttered.

You paused. “Oh. Okay…”

You stood there awkwardly for a second, unsure of what to do. His voice had been cold, not like Vernon at all. He moved past you and walked straight to the bedroom.

You followed after him, your steps tentative.

“Did something happen?” you asked gently. “You didn’t text back. I was worried.”

He let out a sigh as he threw his hoodie onto a chair. “Why does everything have to be a problem?”

Your brows furrowed. “It’s not a problem, I’m just worried about you…”

“Well, don’t be. I’m fine.” He finally looked at you, but his eyes were hard, tired. “Can you just, I don't know, stop treating me like I’m going to break all the time?”

The sting in his words made you take a step back. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“I know,” he said sharply, then ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I know. I just… I just want silence. For one night.”

“But bottling everything up doesn’t help you either,” you replied softly. “You don’t talk to me anymore, Hansol. I miss you, even when you're right in front of me.”

He scoffed. “Right, because I’m the problem again.”

You blinked, your throat tightening. “That’s not what I said…”

“You didn’t have to.” His voice rose. “I get it. You want me to be this perfect version of myself all the time. I’m tired, okay? Tired of everything, tired of the constant pressure, the noise, the expectations. And now I come home, and it feels like I can’t even breathe here either!”

You flinched. He never yelled. Not like this.

“Is that what I am to you now? Noise?” you whispered.

He immediately looked away, guilt flashing in his eyes. “That’s not what I meant…”

“But that’s what you said.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” he snapped. “I’m sorry I’m not who you want me to be right now.”

You shook your head, your voice cracking. “I don’t want you to be anyone else, Hansol. I want you. But you won’t let me in anymore. You come home, shut me down, and you act like I’m part of the chaos you’re trying to escape from.”

“I don’t mean to,” he whispered. “It’s just... e-everything’s too much.”

“Then why not talk to me about it?” you asked, pleading now. “Why push me away?”

“Because if I start talking, I’m scared I won’t stop,” he confessed, voice shaking. “I’m scared I’ll break down and you’ll see how weak I really am.”

You stared at him, tears building. “Do you really think I’d walk away if you cried? Do you think I’m only here for the version of you that’s calm and composed?”

He didn’t answer.

You took a step closer, voice softer now. “Let me carry some of this with you. Let me be the one safe space you don’t have to pretend in.”

He finally looked at you again, and his expression broke your heart. His walls were crumbling. Slowly, painfully.

“I had a panic attack in the bathroom today,” he admitted. “During a break between takes. No one noticed. I just… I washed my face and kept going like nothing happened.”

“Oh, Hansol…” You reached out, but he stepped back.

“And it’s not the first time,” he said bitterly. “Every day feels like I’m suffocating. Every smile I force feels like a lie. I come home and I want to collapse, but then I see you waiting for me and I feel like I’m failing you, too.”

“You’re not failing me,” you said immediately. “You’re hurting. That’s not failure.”

He finally broke down, his voice trembling. “I don’t know how to be okay anymore.”

You pulled him into your arms, and this time, he didn’t resist. He held onto you like he was drowning.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, rubbing his back. “You don’t have to be okay right now. You just have to let yourself feel.”

He clung to you tightly. “I’m scared.”

“I know. But I’m not going anywhere.”

His shoulders trembled as the tears finally spilled, quiet, broken sobs that had been buried for too long. You held him through it, letting him release every emotion he’d bottled up.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“I know,” you said gently. “It hurt, but I know you didn’t mean it. I forgive you.”

He pulled back just slightly, brushing his fingers along your face, now wet with your own tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” you said, smiling through the tears. “And you always will.”

He let out a shaky laugh, his forehead leaning against yours. “What would I do without you?”

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whispered.

You guided him to the couch, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. He leaned into your side, head resting on your chest, hand gripping yours tightly.

And for the first time in a long while, Vernon allowed himself to rest, not as an idol, not as a perfect image, but as a person. A broken, healing, loved person.

Taglist: @babycaratdeul @viacb97 @christinewithluv

[mocchiixxx]

Words in Ruin Series # | 11 : Boo Seungkwan 🍊

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Emotional Healing

Warnings: Shouting, emotional breakdown, crying, comfort and reconciliation

Summary: Seungkwan’s laughter is infectious. His sharp wit and confident demeanor have always been a source of joy for those around him. But lately, the weight of constant expectations, both from the public and himself, have been chipping away at his spirit. When he lashes out at you, the person who’s always stood by him, he regrets it immediately, but the damage has already been done. Will you be there to help him rebuild the pieces?

The text came just as you were finishing dinner.

“Y-nnie, Seungkwan's not doing well today.”“He’s been quieter than usual… Don’t take it personally if he snaps, okay?”– Soonyoung🐯.

You frowned at your phone, heart clenching.

Another came seconds later.

“He messed up during rehearsals. Tried to laugh it off, but we can tell it hit him hard. Just be gentle with him tonight.” – Jeonghan.

You sighed quietly as you put your phone down.

It wasn’t the first time the members had reached out like this. They knew how close you were to Seungkwan, how often he ran to you when things got too loud or too heavy. You were his safe space. His place to fall apart, even if he never said it out loud.

Still, it hurt to know he was struggling and pretending like he wasn’t.

You looked down at the table, his favorite soup was still warm, the rice fluffed just the way he liked. You had lit a candle even though you knew he’d tease you for being cheesy again.

But tonight wasn’t about romance. It was about giving him peace, in whatever little way you could.

You looked around the apartment, quiet, warm, soft lighting, and hoped it was enough.

The door opened a while later.

You didn’t even have to see him to feel it.

The energy that usually radiated off him, like sunshine wrapped in sarcasm, was missing.

His steps were sluggish. There was no sing-songy “I’m home,” no dramatic entrance like he always did when he wanted attention.

Just the quiet thud of his bag hitting the floor and the soft shuffle of shoes being taken off.

You stepped out from the kitchen gently, not wanting to startle him. “Hey,” you said softly.

Seungkwan didn’t even look up.

“Kwannie, it’s okay to take a break,” you said gently, standing by the doorway as he was removing the tie of his shoes, still in his stage clothes, sweat-drenched and clearly worn thin.

He barely acknowledged you, brushing past in silence as he kicked his shoes off, picking up his bag once again, shoulders sagging under exhaustion. His hair was damp, face flushed, and eyes clouded.

This wasn't the bright-eyed Seungkwan you knew, the one who could light up a room with a single witty remark or laugh that echoed with warmth.

You followed him quietly into the kitchen. “I made your favorite. I thought it’d help you recover.”

No response. He dropped his bag on the dining table with a loud thud that made you jump slightly. He stared at the table, then at the floor.

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered, voice clipped and cold.

Your heart sank. “Kwan… you didn’t eat lunch. You need to eat something, please.”

His jaw clenched. “I said I’m not hungry!”

You flinched. His voice, so sharp, so unfamiliar, cut straight through your chest.

Still, you tried to keep your voice calm. “I’m just worried, love. You’ve been pushing yourself so hard lately. I can see how tired you are.”

He turned to face you, and the frustration in his eyes startled you.

“Why do you always do this?!” he snapped, eyes suddenly glassy. “Why do you act like everything’s okay just because I’m home? Like your food or your soft voice can magically fix it all? I’m not okay! And I’m sick of pretending I am!”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

“You think because I smile and crack jokes that I’m fine? That I don’t feel anything?” His voice cracked, and for a moment, the mask slipped. “I’m not some entertainer for you to fix. I’m tired. I’m burnt out. And I feel like I’m falling apart, but no one seems to care unless I’m breaking down in front of a camera!”

You stared at him in shock. The man you loved, so sensitive, so expressive, was now standing in front of you like a shattered mirror, reflecting only jagged pieces.

“Seungkwan…” you said softly, but your throat was tight. “Why are you yelling at me? I didn’t do anything wrong…”

His face immediately fell. Guilt flooded his expression as he looked away, biting his lower lip.

“I… I didn’t mean that,” he whispered.

“But you said it,” you whispered back, tears brimming in your eyes. “You’re hurting, I can see that. But I’m not your punching bag.”

He sat down at the edge of the table, burying his face in his hands. His voice came out broken. “I know. I know, and I hate myself for it. I just… I don’t know who I’m supposed to be anymore.”

You stood there for a moment, watching the man you loved fall apart in front of you, unsure if stepping closer would help or hurt more. Eventually, you sat beside him, gently placing a hand on his back.

“I get it,” you said softly. “You feel like you have to be strong all the time. That if you crack even a little, the whole world will see and question everything about you.”

He sniffled, his voice muffled. “I’m so tired, babe. I don’t even remember the last time I laughed for real. Not for a camera. Not for a crowd. Just… laughed, because I felt like it.”

Your hand rubbed slow circles on his back. “You don’t need to perform for me, Seungkwan. Not now, not ever. You don’t have to smile if you don’t feel like it. You don’t have to talk if it’s too much. Just… let me be here.”

He turned to you slowly, his cheeks tear-streaked, eyes swollen and red. “I shouted at you. You shouldn’t still be here.”

“I’m not here because you shouted at me. I’m here despite it,” you said. “Because I know that wasn’t you. That was the pressure talking. The pain you’ve been hiding. And you’re allowed to have a breaking point.”

He reached out, tentatively touching your hand. “I’m scared,” he said. “That if I stop pretending, people won’t love me anymore.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “Then let them go. Because the people who truly love you, like me and your members, will love you even on your worst days.”

He leaned into you, pressing his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath.

“I feel like I’m always letting someone down. The members. The fans. Myself. Even you.”

“You’re not,” you whispered. “But you’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to be.”

“I’ll try,” he said, voice raw. “I can’t promise I’ll get it right all the time. But I’ll try to stop shutting you out.”

You pulled him into a tight embrace. “That’s all I ask. You don’t have to be perfect. Just be you. That’s more than enough for me.”

He clung to you like a lifeline, the dam finally breaking. The apartment filled with quiet sobs and whispered apologies. You held him through it all, through every tremble, every tear, every confession of fear.

After a long silence, he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“I love you,” he said, voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” you replied, brushing his bangs from his forehead. “More than you know.”

He let out a soft breath. “I don’t deserve you.”

You smiled. “Maybe. But you have me anyway.”

“Oh, by the way, don't forget to thank your hyungs when you see them. Soonyoung and Jeonghan oppa especially, they warned me before hand about you looking so down so I'm slightly prepared to a gloomy you. ”

A broken laugh escaped him then soft, real, a little tear-stained. And for the first time in weeks, it didn’t sound forced.

“Those guys... I'll thank them when we see each other tomorrow. Thank you for being patient with me babe.”

He leaned his head on your shoulder, and you sat there, the cold food forgotten, the weight on his chest just a little lighter.

You knew there would be more bad days. But you also knew he wouldn’t have to face them alone anymore.

Because behind the laugh, behind the exhaustion, behind the expectations...

there was Boo Seungkwan. And you’d always be there to remind him that he was loved, even in silence.

Taglist: @babycaratdeul @viacb97 @christinewithluv

[mocchiixxx]

Words in Ruin Series # | 10 : Lee Seokmin (DK) ⚔️

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Conflict, Emotional Healing

Warnings: Shouting, crying, temporary emotional disconnection, comfort and reconciliation

Summary: Seokmin is known for his constant smile and boundless energy, always brightening others’ days. But even the sun has cloudy days. When the weight of expectations and burnout crush his spirit, he does the unthinkable— he yells at you, the one who has never asked for anything but honesty. And in that moment, the smile you adored disappears from both your faces.

You knew something was wrong the moment you heard the door close.

Not slam, just a quiet, barely audible click. No humming, no keys tossed onto the counter with that signature dramatic flair. No “Love! Guess who had the longest rehearsal of his life!”

Just silence.

You peeked from the kitchen, wiping your hands on a dish towel.

“Love?” you called out gently.

He stood in the entryway, frozen, eyes glued to the floor. His shoulders were slumped, and his usual vibrant energy was nowhere to be found.

“Oh. Hey,” he mumbled without meeting your eyes, slowly bending to untie his shoes. “Sorry, I’m just... tired.”

You tried to keep your voice light. “Rough day?”

He shrugged. “Something like that.”

You watched him disappear into the living room without even glancing at you. A strange knot formed in your chest. This wasn’t like him, not even after a 12-hour schedule. He always had something to say. Some joke. Some dumb pun to make you laugh.

But tonight, he looked like a balloon someone had let go of... deflated and drifting.

You stirred the pot of tteokbokki and tried again. “I made your favorite. Come eat before it gets cold?”

There was a beat of silence before his voice came back, low and clipped.

“I’m not hungry.”

You blinked. “You haven’t eaten since lunch, though. You said you were running on a protein bar and vibes—”

“I said I’m not hungry,” he snapped.

You froze.

The spoon stilled in your hand. You turned toward the hallway just as he appeared in the doorway, eyes wild and tired, voice louder than you’d ever heard from him.

“And can you not baby me right now? I just… I don’t need that. I just need space, okay?!”

The words hit like a slap. Not the volume but the distance.

You swallowed thickly. “I wasn’t babying you. I was just—”

“Well, it feels like it!” he barked. “I walk in and it’s like I have to smile all over again. I just got home, Y/N. Can’t I just be for five minutes?”

You set the spoon down slowly.

“…Okay,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I’ll give you space.”

You didn’t wait for a reply. You turned and walked to the bedroom after turning off the stove, shutting the door with a quiet finality that didn’t match the chaos in your chest.

On the other side, Seokmin stood frozen.

His breath came shallow. His hands trembled.

What did I just do?

Time passed. Minutes. Maybe an hour. He wasn’t sure. He sat on the couch, elbows on knees, head buried in his hands.

You’d looked so… hurt.

Worse than that, you looked disappointed.

And that was the knife twisting in his gut. Because you didn’t yell back. You didn’t fight. You just stepped away. Like you were used to people giving up on you when things got hard.

And he hated that he’d just become one of them.

He stood up.

Heart pounding, he walked down the hallway, pausing at the door he hadn’t dared open yet.

It was cracked.

He saw you curled on the bed, hugging a pillow to your chest. Your back was to him.

He knocked gently. “Y/N? ”

You didn’t move.

“Love?...”

He took a step inside. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I… I was out of line.”

Still, no reply.

He walked around to the other side of the bed where he could see your face. Your eyes were red and puffy. You’d been crying quietly, like you didn’t want to bother anyone. Like you were the burden.

His heart broke a little more.

“I didn’t mean any of what I said,” he continued, kneeling down beside the bed. “I was just… overwhelmed. And I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. That’s not fair to you.”

Your voice was quiet, shaky. “Then why didn’t you just say that?”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. Because what was the excuse?

You sat up slowly, meeting his eyes. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were overwhelmed, Seokmin? I’m not asking you to be okay all the time.”

He swallowed hard. “Because I don’t know how to not be okay.”

That made you pause.

He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands again.

“I don’t know how to take the mask off,” he confessed. “I’m the funny one. The mood-maker. The ‘always smiling’ guy. And sometimes I feel like… if I stop smiling, I’ll disappoint everyone. I’ll scare them. I’ll lose the only thing people like me for.”

You looked at him, eyes glistening. “But I don’t love you because you’re always happy.”

He turned to you slowly.

“I love you because you’re kind. And thoughtful. And passionate. Because you remember how I take my tea and send me cat videos when I’m sad. You being cheerful is just a bonus, love. It’s not your whole identity.”

He let out a small, broken laugh. “Then why do I feel like I’m only useful when I’m making other people laugh?”

You reached for his hand. “Because somewhere along the line, someone made you feel like your emotions weren’t valid unless they were pretty. But I see you, even when the smile fades.”

His fingers tightened around yours.

“I’m scared,” he whispered. “Scared that if I let you see the dark parts, you’ll stop loving me.”

Your voice cracked as you said, “You don’t have to earn my love with laughter, Seokmin. I love you because you’re you. Even if that means sitting beside you in silence while you figure things out.”

His walls cracked fully then.

He leaned forward and buried his face into your shoulder, sobbing quietly. You held him close, fingers gently stroking his hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t want to push you away ever again.”

You pressed a kiss to his temple. “Then don’t. Talk to me next time. Even if it’s messy.”

“I promise,” he breathed. “I’ll be real with you. Even if I’m not smiling.”

You cupped his face and looked him in the eyes. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Not the performer. Just Seokmin.”

He nodded, eyes full of guilt and gratitude. “Thank you… for not leaving.”

You pulled him into your arms again. “I love you, even when you flicker. Even when you’re dim. You’re still my sun.”

That night, you lay tangled in each other’s arms. No words were needed anymore. Just quiet comfort. Breath syncing. Heartbeats slowing. Trust rebuilding.

And when he finally let out a small, real laugh— a genuine, tired chuckle that made you smiled.

Because this time, his laughter wasn’t a mask.

It was a release.

And it meant he was coming back to you.

Little by little, light returning.

Not forced.

Not fake.

Just Seokmin.

Taglist: @babycaratdeul @viacb97 @christinewithluv

[mocchiixxx]

Words in Ruin Series # | 09 : Kim Mingyu 🐶

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstanding, Domestic Drama, Reconciliation

Warnings: Shouting, emotional vulnerability, self-doubt, crying, making up

Summary: Mingyu has always been loud, not just in voice, but in presence. But when stress from packed schedules, rehearsals, and expectations build too high, his usual warmth disappears behind frustration. When you try to offer comfort, he shouts without thinking— only to realize the sound of his anger breaks more than the silence. It breaks you.

The apartment was unusually quiet.

You stood in the kitchen, a towel in hand, watching the storm behind Mingyu’s eyes grow darker as he paced the living room. He was late coming home again, and this time, it wasn’t just exhaustion that followed him, it was tension, spilling over with every step.

You knew the comeback preparations were taking a toll on him. The late-night practices. The re-recordings. The need to always be everyone’s sunshine when he felt like he couldn’t even light up his own world.

“Gyu,” you said gently, “I heated your food. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered, flopping onto the couch and rubbing his face with both hands.

You hesitated before stepping closer. “Seokmim said you didn’t even touch your lunch earlier. At least eat a little bit.”

“I said I’m not hungry!” he snapped, voice echoing louder than he intended. “Can you just stop fussing over me for one second?!”

Silence...

Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly, not from fear, but from hurt.

Because the Mingyu you know...

never yelled at you.

He was the type to trip over furniture while rushing to bring you flowers. The type to laugh through mistakes and apologize over the smallest accidents. His love was loud, yes, but never angry.

Until now.

“…I’m sorry for caring,” you whispered, stepping back.

His heart dropped.

The way your voice cracked. The way your shoulders stiffened. The way your hands, which had just been setting the table with care, fell limply to your sides.

“Y/N, wait—” He stood up quickly.

But you were already walking toward the bedroom, not slamming the door, not shouting back... just quietly leaving.

And that’s what scared him the most.

Mingyu had always been loud. But your silence? It was deafening.

It took him fifteen minutes to work up the courage to knock.

He hated himself for yelling.

He hated that his frustration wasn’t with you at all, but he had thrown it at you like it was.

He hated that the one person who always looked at him like he was more than just an idol, like he was Kim Mingyu, clumsy and all, was now too hurt to even look at him.

He knocked again.

“…Y/N? ” His voice was soft this time. “Can I come in, love?”

You didn’t answer.

He opened the door slowly anyway.

You were curled on the edge of the bed, blanket wrapped around you like armor. Your eyes were closed, but he knew you were awake.

“I didn’t mean to shout,” he said, sitting on the floor beside the bed. “I wasn’t even angry at you. I’m just… tired. And I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

You stayed quiet, so he kept talking.

“I don’t like who I was earlier. I always promised you I’d be better than that. That I’d never be the reason you felt small or unwanted or… like this.”

He leaned his forehead against the edge of the bed.

“I spend all day trying to be someone everyone else can lean on, but I forgot I have you to lean on too. You try to take care of me, and all I did was throw your care back at you.”

Your voice came out small. “You scared me, Gyu.”

He looked up quickly, eyes pained. “I know. And I hate that I did.”

“I’ve seen you upset,” you continued, finally turning to look at him. “But not like that. Not… angry like that. Not at me.”

He crawled up beside you now, carefully, like he wasn’t sure he had the right.

“I would never want to be the reason you feel unloved,” he said, voice breaking. “You’re the only quiet I have in this noisy world.”

You sat up, looking at him through glassy eyes. “Then don’t raise your voice just to drown me out.”

“I won’t,” he said, cupping your face gently, thumb wiping away the tear that slipped. “From now on, I’ll talk. Not shout. Not walk away. I’ll tell you what’s wrong before it builds up and explodes.”

You leaned into his touch, slowly starting to forgive.

“I just need to feel like we’re still a team,” you murmured. “Even when things get hard.”

He pulled you into a hug, arms warm and firm around you. “We are. You and me, always.”

The two of you sat in that embrace for a long time, the silence no longer sharp, but healing.

Later that night, after the silence had softened, Mingyu lay beside you, his arm wrapped around you in the way that felt like both an apology and a promise.

“I’ve been feeling… overwhelmed lately,” he confessed, his voice muffled against the top of your head. “I never wanted to bring that to you. But I kept bottling it all up, thinking I could just deal with it alone. I thought I was doing the right thing, staying strong and keeping everything in, but I didn’t realize how much it was eating me alive.”

You shifted slightly, looking up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because… I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin. “I wanted to be the one to always make you feel safe and happy. But now I feel like I’ve failed you.”

“You haven’t,” you reassured him, tilting your head back to look at him more clearly. “It’s okay to not be okay sometimes, Gyu. You don’t have to be perfect for me.”

“I know,” he whispered, sighing. “But I hate that I hurt you. I never meant to.”

You cupped his cheek, gently turning his head toward you. “I’m not angry. I just… I want to help. I want you to let me in.”

He closed his eyes, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. “I’m trying, Y/N. I really am. I just… I don’t know how to stop trying to fix everything on my own.”

“You don’t have to fix everything on your own,” you said softly. “We’re a team. We’ve always been.”

He pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve all the love I have to give,” you whispered. “And you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel truly heard, Gyu. It’s okay to let me take care of you now. You’ve been doing so much for me. Let me return it.”

Mingyu stayed quiet for a while, simply holding you close. But the weight on his heart slowly began to lift, replaced with the soft comfort of your touch, the reassurance that no matter how loud the world got, you’d always be his quiet.

The next morning, Mingyu woke up before you, the sunlight casting soft patterns on the floor. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, feeling the warmth of your body beside him. He smiled softly, realizing that despite everything, you were still here.

You stirred beside him, sleepily blinking your eyes open. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered, brushing the hair away from your face. “Thank you for being patient with me. I’m going to be better.”

You smiled, the softest warmth in your eyes. “I know you will. And I’ll be here, every step of the way.”

Mingyu held you a little tighter, his heart full, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could finally breathe without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He might always be loud, but now he knew how to use that voice for good. He had learned that love wasn’t about shouting over the noise, it was about listening when it mattered most.

And for you? he would always listen.

Taglist: @babycaratdeul @viacb97 @christinewithluv

A/N: You know what the real deal is? Mingyu would definitely seek you out immediately if you were ever in that situation. He’s not the type of man to prolong any misunderstanding or argument with his partner. This man won’t let you stay upset or mad at him for long. Whether it's through acts of service, doing silly things, non stop gentle persuading, or even taking care of everything around your shared home just to earn your forgiveness— he’ll do it all. He might even woo you with flowers, your favorite things, or your favorite food. Yes, he’ll spoil you to win you back, but not to bribe you into forgiving him— it’s more like a gift of appreciation. He’s a real man, I’m telling you; his entire being screams green flag. Overall, you’ll never feel unloved with this man being your significant other.

To whoever ends up with this man, Just know that you are incredibly lucky to be loved by someone like him. Mingyu is everyone’s dream man—loyal, caring, and endlessly thoughtful. So please, protect him like he’s your whole world. Never let go of the hands that so many only dream of holding for eternity.

[mocchiixxx]

Words in Ruin Series # | 08 : Xū Minghao (The8) 🐸

Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Repressed Emotions, Reconciliation

Warnings: Emotional outburst, misunderstanding, silent treatment, insecurity, crying

Summary: Minghao had always prided himself on his control, of his movements, his time, his thoughts. But lately, nothing feels in control. The packed schedule, the jetlag, the pressure to be both present and perfect, it wears him down. And the worst part? He snaps at you, the one person who’s never demanded anything of him except his truth. When your silence lingers longer than usual, he finally realizes that in trying to keep himself together, he’s been slowly breaking what mattered most.

It wasn’t like him to raise his voice.

In fact, it wasn’t like him to lose composure at all.

Which is why your heart shattered the moment his tone changed from silence to sharpness.

You had only asked him if he was okay.

The words weren’t loaded with suspicion, weren’t laced with accusation. Just soft concern, because Minghao had been different these past few days.

Distant. Distracted. Even when he sat beside you, it felt like his soul was far away.

“Minghao… can we talk?”

He was seated on the floor of your shared apartment’s living room, paintbrush still in hand, working on a half-finished canvas. The colors were messier than usual, bolder, angrier strokes that didn’t blend the way they used to.

He didn’t look up. “Later.”

“It’s already been days,” you said quietly, kneeling next to him. “You haven’t been sleeping properly. You keep ignoring your phone. I know something’s wrong.”

That was when he finally looked at you.

And his eyes weren’t blank, they were tired. Agitated.

“Why do you always assume something’s wrong when I’m quiet?” he snapped. “Maybe I just want space.”

You flinched. “I didn’t mean to suffocate you.”

He scoffed, dropping the brush into the jar of murky water beside him. “That’s not what I said. I just— can’t you just let me be for one night?”

You blinked, stunned. He never spoke to you like that. Minghao, who was always composed and intentional with his words, who used silence more often than sound, had just bitten into you with edge.

“…Okay,” you said softly. “I’ll give you space.”

You stood up and walked toward the bedroom, leaving the living room in a tense silence. You didn’t cry. Not yet. You knew enough about Minghao to understand he didn’t shout easily, so if he did, it meant something was really wrong. And that scared you more than anything.

The silence between you stretched for hours.

You lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the moonlight filtering through the curtains. The sound of his quiet breathing from the living room was the only thing breaking the silence. But it was suffocating in its own way.

Every time you thought about speaking up, your heart tightened. What could you say? Was it worth breaking the silence with your own hurt?

Minutes turned to hours.

Finally, at around 3 a.m., the stillness felt unbearable. You turned to your side, clutching your pillow. You could feel your chest tighten as the weight of the day crushed you. Your mind replayed his words over and over. Maybe you had suffocated him. Maybe you were being selfish, demanding his attention when all he needed was a moment to himself.

Minghao, on the other hand, sat quietly in the living room, the unfinished canvas in front of him.

He had been trying to paint, but the brush had only skimmed the surface of the paper. The colors on the canvas were distorted, not because he lacked the talent, he had that in abundance, but because everything within him was so disordered, he couldn’t bring himself to create anything that felt right.

His fingers trembled with the weight of his emotions, and guilt gnawed at him.

He had snapped at you. He had shut you out. You didn’t deserve that. You were the one person who had always been there for him, no demands, no expectations. You loved him when the world expected him to be perfect.

Why did he always think he had to deal with everything alone?

At that moment, he stood up and walked toward the bedroom door.

It wasn’t locked. He pushed it open slowly, wincing when the hinges creaked softly. There, in the dim light, he saw you curled up at the edge of the bed, your back facing him.

His heart clenched.

“Y/N,” he whispered, stepping into the room.

You didn’t answer. Your body was tense, your breathing shallow.

He stood there for a moment, unsure. His voice faltered when he spoke again. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t respond.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His words felt hollow, even to him. He wanted to say more, but the fear of pushing you further away paralyzed him.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally spoke, your voice soft but steady. “You didn’t hurt me, Minghao. But you shut me out. You always shut me out when things get hard.”

Minghao bit his lip, his fists clenching. “I didn’t want to pull you into my mess. I thought if I stayed quiet long enough, I’d figure it out on my own.”

You slowly turned to face him, your eyes glistening. “You can’t always figure it out alone, Hao. And I never wanted to be someone who made you feel like you had to.”

His heart ached at the words you spoke. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault he couldn’t bring himself to ask for help.

“I’m sorry. I—I’m not good at this. At talking about what’s wrong, at asking for what I need.” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling utterly lost. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just… everything feels so loud. The world feels loud. And I thought if I kept quiet, it would all stop.”

You reached out, softly cupping his face in your hands. “It’s okay to not be okay, Minghao. But you don’t have to carry it all alone. Not when I’m here.”

His chest tightened, the tears he’d been holding back threatening to spill. He wasn’t used to letting people in, especially not when it came to his weaknesses. He didn’t know how to share the storm inside him.

“I’m so scared,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m scared I’ll hurt you. I’m scared I’ll push you away until there’s nothing left.”

You pulled him closer, guiding his head onto your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you.”

He let out a shaky breath, finally allowing himself to cry. He clung to you, his body trembling with the force of emotions he’d kept locked away for too long.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he murmured between sobs. “I didn’t mean it.”

You held him tighter. “You didn’t. You just don’t know how to let go of the pain. But I’m here. I’ll help you. We’ll get through it together.”

After a long while, he pulled back slightly, his eyes red and swollen from crying. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You don’t need to deserve anything. You just need to be.”

He nodded slowly, tears still lingering in his eyes. “Thank you… for staying. For not leaving when I made it hard.”

You smiled softly, brushing away the tears on his cheek. “I’ll always stay. I love you. Even when you can’t see it, I’m here.”

Minghao leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you. And I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better. I won’t shut you out again.”

You kissed his forehead softly, then pulled him back into your embrace, letting him know with every touch, every word, that he was no longer alone.

And for the first time in days, Minghao felt like he could breathe. The storm inside him had calmed, and with you by his side, he knew he could weather any storm that came next.

Taglist: @babycaratdeul @viacb97 @christinewithluv

[mocchiixxx]

Words in Ruin Series # | 07 : Lee Jihoon (Woozi) 🍚

Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Breakdown, Reconciliation, Slow Realization

Warnings: Emotional yelling, miscommunication, insecurities, guilt, self-blame, heavy crying

Summary: To the world, Woozi is the quiet genius; the producer, the perfectionist, the heart of SEVENTEEN’s sound. But that brilliance comes at a cost. The sleepless nights, the endless revisions, the self-inflicted pressure to outdo himself, again and again, bleeds into every part of his life, even the part where he’s supposed to feel safe: with you. One night, when words snap and tears fall, he realizes music isn’t the only thing that needs harmony. And this time, he might have composed the most painful silence of all.

It was nearing 2:00 a.m. when you heard it, the unmistakable slam of a door echoing through the thin walls of the studio.

That wasn’t like him.

Lee Jihoon didn’t slam things. He didn’t raise his voice. He internalized. Drowned himself in arrangements and demo revisions until even time gave up trying to keep track of him. But tonight, something was unraveling.

You stood from the tiny studio couch you’d been quietly curled up on for the past two hours, watching him mix, waiting for a moment to speak, hoping he’d pause long enough to breathe. You carried over the still-warm cup of coffee you'd made for him earlier and cautiously opened the door.

“Jihoon?” you called gently.

He didn’t answer. He was hunched in front of the monitor, fingers clenched into fists, knuckles white.

“Ji…?” you stepped in slowly.

He finally spoke, but not to you— more to the air, to himself. “Why can’t I get this right?”

You placed the cup on the table beside him. “You’ve been working non-stop. Maybe you just need to step away for a bit to clear your head.”

“I can’t,” he said sharply. Then, quieter: “I don’t have time to rest.”

You blinked. “Jihoon, you haven’t eaten since lunch. You’ve barely spoken to me in days. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

He finally turned to face you, and the look in his eyes caught you off guard.

Frustration, yes, but also exhaustion… and something worse: fear.

“Don’t start this again,” he muttered. “Not tonight.”

Your chest tightened. “Start what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely between you. “The lectures. The concern. Like I’m a child who doesn’t know his limits.”

Your lips parted in disbelief. “I’m not lecturing you. I’m loving you.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” he snapped.

Silence...

Pain bloomed in your chest, sharp and fast.

Jihoon realized too late what he’d said. His mouth opened slightly, but no apology came out. Just silence.

You took a step back, eyes stinging. “You didn’t ask me to… But I did. I chose to stay. To wait. To be here. Because I care. And you’re throwing that back in my face?”

His jaw clenched. “You don’t understand. You’ve never had millions of people waiting for your next track. You don’t know what it’s like to feel like everything you produce is never good enough.”

“I don’t have to be a producer to know when someone is breaking,” you whispered. “You’re not a machine, Jihoon. You’re human. You can’t keep living like this, treating sleep like a privilege and love like a distraction.”

He stood now, face stormy. “So what? are you giving me an ultimatum now? You or the music?”

You shook your head slowly, tears finally slipping free. “No. I would never make you choose between me and the thing you love most. I just… I just wish I was somewhere on the list.”

His expression faltered.

You turned to leave. “I’ll go. Since being here is just getting in your way.”

He didn’t stop you.

Not immediately.

Because Jihoon didn’t know how to fix things that weren’t broken chords or off-beat rhythms. He could mend audio clips and rearrange harmonies, but heartbreak? Human emotion? You?

That scared him more than any production deadline ever could.

3:47 a.m.

The studio was quiet now.

The track sat on the screen, unfinished, unbalanced, and hollow.

Just like him.

The untouched cup of coffee still sat by the console. The one you made with tired hands and a hopeful heart.

He reached for it and finally felt the cold.

His fingers curled around the mug, and he swore he could still feel the warmth of you in it. That’s when the guilt hit him, fast, consuming, brutal.

He left the studio without saving the track.

He didn’t care anymore.

Back at the apartment, he pushed open the door gently, afraid of what he might find. Or worse— what he wouldn’t.

But you were there.

Curled up on the edge of the bed, hugging a pillow, your back to him. Small, quiet, still.

“Y/N…” he said, voice hoarse from more than just overuse.

You didn’t answer.

He moved closer, sitting carefully at the foot of the bed.

“I was wrong,” he whispered. “So, so wrong.”

Still, you said nothing. And somehow, that was worse than yelling.

“I took everything out on you when all you did was love me,” he continued, voice shaking. “I let the pressure get so loud that I stopped hearing the most important person in the room.”

You shifted slightly, but didn’t look at him.

“I told you I didn’t ask for your help,” he said softly. “But that wasn’t true. I needed it. I just didn’t know how to say it. I thought… if I let you see how messy I really am, you'd think less of me.”

Finally, your voice came... fragile and raw.

“Do you really think love only survives perfection?”

His head dropped.

“No,” he admitted. “But maybe… I thought I had to deserve you first. Like if I failed, if I cracked even a little… you’d see I wasn’t worth staying for.”

You turned to face him now, eyes swollen and cheeks damp. “I’ve already seen you crack, Jihoon. I stayed. Not because you’re perfect. But because you’re you.”

He closed his eyes tightly. “I said such awful things tonight.”

“You did,” you said honestly. “And they hurt.”

A beat of silence.

“But… I also saw the man behind those words. The one drowning in expectations. The one who forgot that love isn’t supposed to be another performance.”

He reached for your hand, slowly and really carefully, like he was asking permission.

“I want to be better,” he said. “Not just for the fans. Not just for the group. For us. For you.”

You let him take your hand.

“I don’t need perfect tracks,” you said. “I need my Jihoon to come home. Even if he's tired. Even if he’s broken. Just… come home.”

Tears finally slipped from his eyes then.

Real, vulnerable tears.

He pulled you into him, burying his face in your neck like a child seeking shelter. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you away. I was just… so lost.”

You stroked his back gently, feeling his shoulders tremble. “I know. But next time, don’t wait until we’re both falling apart.”

He pulled back, cupping your cheek. “Next time, I won’t. Next time, I’ll write us a better ending.”

You leaned into his touch, eyes glassy but steady.

“Or maybe,” you whispered, “we’ll compose one together.”

He smiled through the tears.

For the first time in weeks… he felt like breathing again.

Taglist: @babycaratdeul @viacb97 @christinewithluv