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#ateez x reader comfort
his-angell · 1 month
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"Focus on me, jagi." (c.s)
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plot; (y/n) suffered from a tic disorder. She had gotten better with it over the years, but sometimes her tic attacks happen before she can calm them down. Luckily, her boyfriend gets home, ready to comfort her through her attack.
paring; idol!choisan x fem!reader
genre; comfort, angst if you squint
word count; little under 1k
warnings; reader has a tic attack, reader hurts herself (pinching, hitting, pulling her hair), crying (small mention), pet names
request?; yes, request here !
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Today had been nothing but bad. Everything for her had been a downward spiral. It started with waking up for work late. From there it just continued to get worse. Everything was building up and it was unbearable. When she got home, she fell onto the couch, closing her eyes. She could feel it about to happen. She wasn't ready- She had just gotten home and she wasn't prepared. Her high stress levels never helped when it came to an upcoming tic attack.
She sat up quickly, pinching her thighs, trying to ground herself. She clenched her eyes shut. "Not now. Please not now." She begged. She was alone. She was used to being alone.. But it didn't mean she got used to it. She whimpered as her nails dug into her thighs. She couldn't catch her breath.
Her body felt more and more tight as the seconds passed. She was finally able to gasp for air. Her hands shot to her hair, tugging uncomfortably hard. She let out a sob. Her body felt uncomfortably hot as she jerked and squirmed. Her ears were ringing. She had no control over anything-
San was just getting home from the company. He was getting worried. (y/n)'s replies had been spotty all day. When she did reply, she didn't sound very happy. He normally called her everyday to let her know he was on his way home. But today she hadn't picked up. She always picked up. Of course, there was always the possibility of her being asleep. But he was sure that wasn't the case today..
He put in the code to the apartment, pushing open the door. "Jagiya?" He called out. He slipped off his shoes, and set down his bag. A sob and solid thump against the floor indicated something was definitely wrong. He rushed into the living room, his eyes landing on her immediately. He could tell by the way she was really tense she was having a tic attack.
He rushed over. "Hey! Hey Jagiya, breathe!" He said quickly, crouching in front of her. He laid a pillow on her feet and rested his knees on it. That would keep her feet in place, removing the risk of being kicked, or her kicking something. He pulled her to sit straight, placing a hand on her chest. "Take a breath, (y/n)." He said. (y/n) had no control over anything in that moment. She stared at him, shaking her head quickly.  She hated this one.. Well she hated all of them.. But this one specifically was so hard to push past. The one where she physically could not get any air intake..
San already knew what she was thinking.. That she couldn't. "Yes, you can. In, and out." He said. (y/n) grunted, hands finally removing their vice grip on her stomach. She coughed harshly, gasping for air. "I-I' can't- Sannie-" Her body trembled as she jerked and tensed uncontrollably. "You're doing so good, focus on me, jagi." San gently rubbed over her stomach, where her nails had left crescent shaped marks.
When she first started having attacks with him, he would always hold her wrists and try to keep her still. But she had explained to him that only made it feel worse. She needed her body to run its course. It was agonizing to be held down while it was happening. San stared at her with a gentle, but worried gaze, mumbling soft reassurances to her.
He gently pushed her hair from her face. "You've almost got it, keep breathing, jagi." He hushed. Her hands finally relaxed slightly. They were balled into tight fists, which hurt, but at least she wasn't punching her thighs anymore.. San gently took her hands placing them on his chest. "Relax," He whispered. She stared at her hands, trying so hard to get them to function for her. But it was so difficult. Eventually she was able to unclasp them, feeling for Sans' heartbeat.
He held her hands there, moving to sit beside her on the couch. She had a few body jerks still, but she was finally calming down. San gently pulled her into him, resting her head on his chest. "Good, you did so good, jagi." He kissed her head gently. (y/n) panted softly, her body finally relaxing completely against him. She whined, the aches already setting in.
"Thank you.." She whispered. She was so grateful for him. She wasn't sure what she would do if she didn't have his help. She struggled for so long dealing with it on her own. But when San came in, and was willing to learn what helped and didn't, she felt so much better. San kissed her head again. "Don't thank me. Are you okay?" He whispered back. (y/n) slowly nodded. "Hurt.." She mumbled.
San took a deep breath. "Do you want me to run you a warm bath?" He asked, gently combing his fingers through her hair. She shook her head. "No.. Just stay here with me." She could feel the exhaustion taking its toll. San nodded and continued to hold her against him, running his hand over her back. "I love you, Sannie.." She mumbled. "I love you more, pretty." He smiled softly. He allowed her to fall asleep there, not moving an inch. He couldn't imagine how much energy it took out of her, so he let her rest.. 
...
a/n: this is my first time writing anything including the reader having a tic disorder, i did my research before i began writing. if anything comes off as disrespectful or untrue, dont be afraid to point out anything i can fix or improve.
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beenbaanbuun · 2 months
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the fight w/ choi jongho
kind of proof read but also kind of not….
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as your boyfriend turns to face the counter, expression stern and shoulders tense, you realise that that’s it; you’ve reached the end of your argument. there’s more you want to say, more you feel you should say, but then jongho says, “i’m done talking about this,” in a tone so strict that immediately your mouth snaps shut. you swallow your words but they seem to get stuck in your throat, a painful lump forming in their wake.
you’ve been crying for a while now. the anger from your argument had manifested itself in the form of hot tears that streamed down your cheeks as you stumbled your way through an argument that erupted over something that seems entirely irrelevant now. something to do with the dishes; the cause of it all is foggy, just like your vision as you angrily swipe at your eyes. you want to fight back and have the final word, but the words still refuse to come out.
so you turn around and walk away. if you can’t have the last word, then you need to find some other way to cool yourself down. it makes you feel a little toxic when you pull your car keys from the table but your blood is boiling just enough to make it seem rational for you to leave jongho alone for the night. he hates going to sleep when you’re still mad at each other, you remind yourself, but you hate sitting and stewing in his frustration as you wait for him to finally be ready to talk about it. if he wants to talk about it later, he can wait until you come back tomorrow.
“where are you going?” he yells through the apartment as the keys clink in your hands. you don’t answer, a petty part of your brain wanting to give him the silence that he claimed to want. it doesn’t surprise you when you hear his heavy footsteps thud down the corridor, a shoulder softly brushing past yours as jongho moves to block your exit, “you’re not going anywhere alone at this time of night.”
you shrug, bending down to grab a pair of sneakers which you lift up by their tied laces. your fingers fumble over them as you desperately try to get them undone. it hadn’t occurred to you that your hands were shaking until now; until you desperately needed them not to be. it’s humiliating to stand before the man you love, angry tears washing away your makeup as you fail to do a task so simple that even children can do it. you let out a growl of frustration as a new wave of hot tears fill your waterline, threatening to fall free the moment you decide to blink. they cloud your vision making your task even harder, so you squeeze your eyes closed to rid yourself of them.
you feel them roll dramatically down your face, tickling your skin as they reach your jawline. they drip from your face, toppling onto your fingers and making your impossible task even more impossible. in a fit of annoyance, you toss the shoes to the ground and throw your hands up to your face. the shoes can fucking win, for all you care; what’s one more fight lost?
but then you hear a sigh and the quiet tap, tap, tap of feet and suddenly you’re enveloped in a pair of warm arms. you can practically feel the annoyance flowing from your boyfriend’s body as he moves to pet the back of your skull, but you can also feel him trying to hide it. his movements are soft despite his breathing being heavy, and his hug is just as tight with love as his jaw is with rage. even through his own anger, he’s taking care of you; you can’t help but feel a little guilty at that.
“forget the shoes,” he grumbles, voice still just as stern as it was moments before, “i wouldn’t have let you go anyway.”
“you can’t keep me trapped here,” you sob into his jumper. his grip only tightens.
“i’m not trapping you here, dingus,” his lips are hot as they press a firm kiss to your head, “it’s dark outside and if you can’t get your laces undone then you certainly can’t fucking drive. i’m mad at you but i’m not about to let you put yourself in danger, idiot.”
“fine, then,” you whine, “you drive me to my parents house.”
“is that what you want?” he asks as he settles his cheek against your forehead. it’s warm and soft and it feels so natural rested there. you cant help it when you nuzzle into it, just like he can’t help the fond hum that fights it’s way through the wall of anger to escape his lips. instinct takes over as you subconsciously wind your own arms around his waist, tugging him closer to your shaking form.
and for a moment, everything seems normal.
“well?” he purrs, voice slightly muffled by the way your head squishes his face.
“i don’t know,” it’s not really an answer, but at least it’s honest.
because in truth, you don’t know. the smothering weight of jongho’s anger is almost too much to take sometimes, suffocating you as he takes himself off to somewhere private to stew in it until he’s ready to talk. most of the time it’s okay. you can live with sitting alone in the living room until he’s ready to come crawling to you with his tail between his legs as he searches for affection. when it involves you, though, you really can’t. because then it’s not just his frustration you’re sitting in, but your own too and that’s just all too much. if he doesn’t want to talk it through right now, before your brain had time to find a million reasons to blame yourself, then you’re going to have to step away.
just for tonight, just until the anger is over.
but jongho lets out another heavy breath, a contemplative hum coming immediately after. the hands that still rest heavy on your body seem to tighten, dragging you in unfathomably closer. just by the way he’s touching you, it’s not hard to tell that he hates the fact that you leaving is still on the table.
“what can i do to make you sure?” he purrs, voice softer than you’d heard it all night. it’s almost like he’s talking to a scared dog, trying to soothe it just enough so it doesn’t run. you can’t help but feel every bit like that dog; cornered and scared yet so in need of the slightest bit of love that for a second or two, it considers just giving in. that dog never knows. maybe this time won’t be as bad as the last, after all. maybe it won’t need to run.
“talk,” you reply.
“baby, lat—”
“not later, jongho,” there’s a crack in your voice, warning you that if you push yourself too far the tears will come right back. jongho seems to notice it too; he keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to cause any more anger between the both of you. you suck in a deep breath, “i don’t want to sit in my head for hours until you decide you’re ready, jongho. being left alone in the knowledge that you’re in the next room just completely mad at me makes everything worse.”
there’s a few beats of silence, the only sound filling the room being your sniffles. there’s no more rage-filled breathing from him, no more sobs from you. it’s simply the remnants of what has happened; a few post-cry sniffs that remind you that despite the warmth you feel standing in his arms, none of this is as good as it feels right now.
and yet none of it is as bad as it seemed just moments before…
“i’m still annoyed with you, honey,” it certainly doesn’t feel it by the way he has you completely enveloped in his arms. his stance is so protective, his fingers so soft and his cheek so warm. it’s certainly not the posture of someone who doesn’t want to be around you for a little while. “i can’t talk about it with you until i know for certain that i won’t get angry; i don’t want to say anything i don’t mean.”
weirdly enough, as much as you want to hate it, you understand where he’s coming from. you’re still mad too and as much as you can tell yourself that nothing bad will happen, you know deep down that there’s a good chance it will. you don’t want this to be any worse than it already is, but you know that jongho’s method won’t exactly make things better. you’re at an impasse.
“i just don’t like the sitting and waiting, wondering when you’re going to walk through the door and tell me you’re ready,” you sigh into his chest, “it feels wrong, like i’m waiting on death row for my punishment to finally come.”
“so we don’t go to different rooms, then,” he offers, “we go to the bedroom together and we sit with one another until we’re ready to talk. we don’t even have to acknowledge each other if we’re still that angry, but at least you’ll know i’m there.”
“and you’re sure you’ll want to be with me even when you’re mad?” a hand snakes up your spine to pet gently at your hair.
“i always want to be by your side, honey.”
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cheeseceli · 5 months
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Hold me
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Pairing: Choi San × Gn!reader
Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, short drabble
Prompt: If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did
Warnings: reader is touch deprived
A/n: I wrote something similar to this a few months ago, and I think it was the perfect draft for this work. Hopefully you'll like it <3 | join the 1k event
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Touch was never a synonym of love to you.
The feeling of a foreign skin on yours made you feel uncomfortable,way more than you'd like to admit. It reminded yourself of all the fake hugs you were forced to tolerate, all the boys who never learnt about basic respect, all kisses you wish you had never given away.
Touch was not welcomed anymore.
You thought this was okay for a while. You didn't miss it. In all honesty, you felt better this way. But if so, why did you feel so differently about someone's touch?
You remember when it happened for the first time. A hug. San hugged you when you won a plushie in a claw machine he swore it was rigged. You smiled, content with your prize. What you didn't expect, however, was for him to be so happy. That's when he embraced you in his arms, rocking you from side to side so excitedly. It was the first time someone had touched you in a very long while. You thought you'd hate it, but it felt so... good.
You discovered it was because of San himself. You felt relaxed when he offered his shoulder for you to lean on during the ride back home. You felt genuinely happy when he kissed your cheek for the first time, and all times after that.
Touch, his touch, became something you began to crave.
You desired it so much, but you never had to beg for it. A perfect example of it was what is happening right now: you, on San's bed, feeling his arms holding you close to his chest by your waist. He was warm, his slow breathing making everything peaceful. He didn't even know he was touching you, his mind lost in a calm dream, but he was holding you like you've never been held before. It was light, if felt comfortable. You even dare to call it love.
Right then, you cried. Tears falling from your eyes while you felt something heal inside of you. You hugged San back, feeling his arms unconsciously hold you closer, careful.
Touch was, maybe, a synonym of love after all. At least it surely was whenever it came from San.
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: Proud
Thank you for reading 🤍
Taglist (open): @yuyubeans
Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3
Dividers by @isisjupiter
The San drabble I promised to @hyunjinvoid 🫶🏻
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hwaightme · 4 months
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My star
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(masterlist)
⭐ pairing: bf!idol!seonghwa x gn!reader ⭐ genre: comfort, fluff, established long-term relationship, long distance ⭐ summary: many miles might separate you, but they mean nothing when your heart is with him, and his heart is with you. ⭐ wordcount: 2.3k total ⭐ warnings/tags: sfw, semi-edited, horrifically self-indulgent, longing/missing someone, matchy-matchy type of couple, balanced relationship, safe spaces, communication, heart eyes, stress/tiredness, rumination, unconditional love, comfort, being vulnerable, odd sleep patterns, lmk if anything else ⭐ taglist: at the bottom of the fic ⭐ a/n: seonghwa <3 i hope this brings comfort to anyone who reads <3 reblogs, thoughts and feelings appreciated. much love!
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Some days were easier than others. Wrapped up in the hustle and bustle, sinking into meetings, letting yourself get carried away by projects. Some days it was easier to forget, at least for a moment, the hollowness that persecuted you with ever-growing vigour. Concealing sentimentality and melancholia, you skillfully navigated your life until you could hide away, and in the comfort of your own, empty apartment, allowed yourself to curl up into a ball in your bed and wonder why it was that some days were like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, while others, like a viscous putrid tar.
Today was one of those days. On edge, impatient and begging for a break, you stumbled over yourself as you counted down the seconds until you could be painfully alone. The hurt had become your best friend amidst all the changes, and you wanted nothing more than to drown in it when the times got tough. Accumulating short ends of a variety of sticks even when things were going well, you were caged in the creativity of your turbulent mind. You did not need enemies, being your own best one. 
Normally, coming home would be enough. It just so happened that you had the cure, the relief, the peace, who would stand and wait for you with open arms. You called yourself blessed - you well and truly were. In a world that was stuffed with defeat and enemies, you had someone who was always on your team. Without words, without explanation, you would be soothed. There was no need to ever dwell on complexities and tear into negativities - they all evaporated after the keeper of your heart, your starlight would embrace you. But when only the echo bouncing off the walls was there to greet your shattered presence, whatever had been gnawing at your defences would draw blood and turn into a brutal torturer.
You slid off your shoes, moving exclusively by inertia left over from powering through your commute. After washing your hands, you decided to forgo the kitchen, ambling towards the bedroom that you had gotten so used to sharing. Ghostly, dim, exhausted interiors that would glow whenever he was around. You touched the switch on the floor lamp, hesitating for a second before remembering what you had been told before - if your own sun wasn’t shining too bright, turn on all the bulbs around you until you believed the same could be done to you. Was the room always this dark?
It was impossible to say when you fell asleep. At some point after changing out of your office wear and into your pyjamas, which consisted of a half-hearted combination of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt, along with a hoodie which your boyfriend had made a point to leave for you, you ended up crawling onto the bed, only just managing to lift the sheets and snuggling under into a somewhat comforting huddle of cotton before darkness enveloped you. Was Seonghwa asleep? Was he awake? Has he been eating well, working and relaxing in balance? Questions flooded your mind as your bleary eyes attempted to blink away your sleepiness. At this point, you were not quite sure if it was a mere physical state, the heaviness of your eyelids having become near-chronic.
He was out there, under the same sky, seeing it in slightly different shades, but he was out there. Was he lonely too? Hopefully no negative thoughts plagued him. Seonghwa deserved better. But… you could not help but listen to the little selfish worm in your mind - did he miss you? You could not deny that a part of you did long for the sensation of being missed by him. A lot. You clenched the edges of your, or technically his, sleeves and sighed. Pulling the hood over your head, you shut your eyes, trying to picture the last time you embraced the love of your life. How warm it had been. How safe. Washing away all the anxiety, all the pins and needles of stagnancy that came with unwelcome solitude. How he would say he was proud of you, and how you would be able to sit with him and listen to him talk about his day, running a hand through his soft, tousled locks. You have always been a listener. But what was there to listen to now, except the roaring waves of rumination?
What time was it where Seonghwa was? One quick unlock of the phone that you fished out from under the covers brought you the dual clock that you put on your home screen, and along with it, the realisation that you had slept through the entire evening, and through the majority of the night. Again. He was probably settling down, lying on his bed in the hotel room and playing Animal Crossing. Or did he find something else? Did he have the time and energy to play? Or perhaps there was another schedule that had crept up on your boyfriend out of the blue… You mused in total silence while inspecting the background you had set - a picture from a date some weeks ago. Right before work summoned him to leave once more, and you were left standing by the window, watching as his silver suitcase disappeared in the back of a minivan. Rolling over onto your back, your eyes travelled to the skylight - another companion that attempted to soothe your loud mind with vistas and ever changing colour palettes of the universe above. The skies had been clear yesterday, and you wished that it was the case over there, where he was, too.
Your fingers moved on their own accord, opening the messaging app you two preferred to use, flicking through his and your barrage of back and forth texts, videos, photos, voice messages… a little life in the digital space. It would be a lie if you said there was little communication. In fact, if anything, you knew almost all the details about his activities, him gushing to you about whatever he could, and smiling sheepishly when something had to be kept a business secret. You were proud of him, most certainly. If only you could say this face to face. Then, for a short while, nothing would exist except you, him and endless conversation about everything and nothing as you would be entangled in one another, cuddling on the couch as some drama you two picked would be inevitably forgotten. A new message startled you out of your dream, immediately followed by another, and another that made you scroll all the way back.
> i just found your favourite ice cream at a store here!!!
> oh?
> love i can see you are in chat… are you awake :(((
With a quick turn, you stretched and flicked on the lamp on the bedside table, deeming the still-on floor lamp no longer sufficient. Wriggling upwards so you could hold your phone vertically, you pondered how you could write a message that did not sound too desperate. You were perfectly well aware that Seonghwa did not mind a little bit of clinginess - in fact, you had had a dedicated conversation early on in your relationship about affection and he had reassured you numerous times that, especially when on tour, he adored, and reciprocated that fondness and longing. But nonetheless, the annoying bugs that lived in your head and littered it with doubt and anxiety made you want to pull back and pretend like you were unaffected. And so, you kept on writing, and deleting. Writing and deleting. Until Seonghwa took the lead and messaged you again.
> call?
> i’m in my room
> [my star <3 sent 1 image]
The ghost of a smile danced over your lips when the picture loaded - an adorable duck pout, face incredibly close to the camera, but still giving enough space for you to be able to spot the backdrop - a painting, completed in spectacularly bland tones, that served as a prime example of how the hotel where your boyfriend was staying favoured ‘stock footage’-core, if you were to borrow his words. Your gaze could not leave the picture. Your silly, precious Seonghwa, pretty inside and out. On its own accord, your hand moved upwards until it hit ‘video call’, and simultaneously ignited a sudden nervousness. What if now was not really a good time? What if Seonghwa was tired and your less than cheerful disposition would only weigh him down?
“Hello lovely… ah, I see we are matching- wait let me make the light brighter-” you watched as he played with a remote, clicking through and checking his appearance on the screen until he gave a victorious giggle, and pointed at the hoodie, “see?”
“You look so cute and cosy, Hwa… And hello to you too,” you mumbled, settling into a more relaxed position.
“I should be saying that to you, you are literally huddled in bed…”
“Join me,” you suggested, half joking, half hoping that he would play along. Clearly you were long past playing guessing games with each other, as almost instantly, Seonghwa was rushing to his bed, rolling into a burrito until only the top half of his face was peeking out. For the first time in a while, you chuckled. 
“You come here often?” he wiggled his eyebrows before squishing his face into the pillow, only to turn it back to you again, a mixture of worry and love in his eyes, “...can’t sleep, angel?”
“Hmm… if anything I might have just accidentally slept too much.”
“Ah…” both of you knew all the reasons for your behaviour. The same exact ones that prompted your boyfriend to overfill his suitcase with trinkets and clothes that he could sense you would like, or that reminded him of you. Understanding washed over you both as you quietly regarded one another through the phone screens. In moments like these, the many miles that divided you appeared so miniscule that it was agonising.
It was impossible to reach out and brush back the strand of hair that was threatening to poke his eye. It was impossible to fall into a dreamless slumber while listening to his calm, soothing heartbeat. It was impossible to gingerly squeeze his hand - an unspoken ‘I love you’, while floating in his starry eyes. But nothing in the world could take away the sincerity. The promises that turned into actions. This was your person, and you were his. As you studied Seonghwa, you felt the frustration, the pent up rage, the fatigue start to evaporate, leaving behind only a soft cloudlike fuzziness. A crush that would never go away, no matter how many years you would be together. He was your clarity, and with him it was the easiest thing in the universe to look at your troubles once again and see that you could take them on. No challenge on your path could hurt you. Not when he made you feel invincible, and even just by being present, reminded you of how you were simply priceless.
“So… tell me about the ice cream,” you tried, your voice sounding a little raspy. Seonghwa’s face, which had previously been painted over with concern, turned into the brightest sunlight. He beamed, and launched into a detailed recollection of what to anyone else would be beyond mundane. Not to you. Never to you. Never about your lovely star.
As he moved just a fraction, forcing the hoodie to glide forwards and expose more of his collarbones, you noticed that he was wearing the necklace you had gotten together - a two-piece set. Instinctively, your hand moved to feel for the chain that adorned your own neck. Two lego pieces that when put together formed a heart. The epitome of sickeningly sweet couple cooing, but it ended up being the best representation of you both. Unbeknownst to yourself you smiled even wider as the piece grew more prominent against his skin whenever it caught the light that enveloped his room in a warm optical lullaby. The change in your expression evidently did not go unnoticed, as Seonghwa paused, and with a light smirk, sat up to let the light cast wondrous shadows on his features. It was probably silly, how deep you had fallen for him, and how obvious it was, no matter what you did and how you acted. All he had to do was turn his head or say the word, and you would come running all these thousand miles to do anything at all. Really, what was stopping you?
Maybe the fact that someone had to water your boyfriend's beloved pet moss. Or that you had committed yourself to dusting and keeping the apartment pristine despite not being fond of the activity. Or, well, your own life, of course. If anything, your boyfriend would be most distressed if you gave up on yourself. As Seonghwa continued his monologue, now having moved onto discussing the next group activities and travels, you realised you had much to do. Much to work and live for. Distance or not, you were with him. And the least you could do was to balance and maintain a smitten hopefulness. With a partner like Seonghwa, who stopped to check the countdown on his phone to announce that it was only ‘a week, five days, and sixteen hours’ until he would take you to one of the many restaurants he had marked out in the city, you were safe to love hard. Forever and always. And could, in fact, live easy, knowing that while your heart was out there conquering arena after arena, stadium after stadium, his heart was right here with you. Your star with whom you could fearlessly conquer the dark, and celebrate the shimmering dots of happiness that decorated your cosmic canvas. Your story. You and him.
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⭐ perma-taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu
enjoyed? do consider reblogging <3 thank you, all the love <3
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starry-nights-garden · 4 months
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Ateez Reaction ✧ Finding out their s/o has self harm scars
✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: reaction, comfort ✧ warnings: mentions of self harm/self harm scars
Author's note: I've been wanting to write something like this for a long time and always hesitated to do it because I was afraid of any unkind reactions. However, I figured that we all deserve to feel neutral and okay about our scars, so I hope that this can be a comfort to some <3
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Hongjoong:
when he first happens to catch a glimpse of your scars on accident he's pretty sure that they're self harm scars
but he'll keep quiet about them, aware that he probably wasn't meant to see them, and in no way does he want to pressure you into talking about something you're not ready to
however he does make sure to drop a "you know you can tell me anything" as soon as he gets the chance for it
once you do decide to tell him though, he'll try his best to just listen and to make it clear that he would never ever judge you for something like this
won't ask too many questions so as not to overwhelm you - instead he'll convey to you that you can always come talk to him about this if you want to
definitely the type to caress and kiss your scars a lot (if you're okay with that), in order to make you feel that you don't need to be ashamed of them or hide them
he will do a lot of research on the topic as well, and will try to find ways to help spread awareness and destigmatize self harm scars
Seonghwa:
when you open up to him about your self harm scars he can't hide the shock that creeps onto his face
words aren't enough to describe just how worried he is, and even before figuring out how he should react, he'll be reaching out for your hands to wrap them tightly into his
it'll take him a while to process what you just told him, but he'll find the right words eventually
"I'm here for you if you need me. Always. Okay?"
thankful for his sincere words, you just nod, and as you're tearing up because he didn't react badly and you can feel just how much you can trust him, tears well up in his eyes as well
attempting to hide them, he offers you a warm hug instead, wanting nothing more than to make you feel protected
after that, you feel like he'll prioritize your wellbeing even more, doing his best to always be there for you and to support you in whatever way possible
he will also take having deep conversations about your feelings even more serious now, and at time where you're feeling down he will become very protective of you and pamper you as much as he can!
Yunho:
he's not sure how to react when you confess to him that you have self harm scars
you can see that he's internally panicking, because whatever he imagined this conversation was going to be about, he would've never considered this option
"A-are you okay?" - the question just bursts out of him as it's the first thing that came to mind, and it's so blunt that it almost makes you chuckle a bit
you assure him that you're okay currently, and he lets out a massive sigh of relief
but as he starts thinking about it some more, he comes to realize that he actually has a lot of questions
he desperately wants to understand your reasons and how you feel about your scars now, etcetc, so he starts carefully asking you about everything that's on his mind
tries his best to understand you as you start explaining, and if you hesitate on a question he'll immediately tell you that you don't have to give him an answer if you feel uncomfortable
talking to you about it definitely makes him feel relieved, and he also won't hesitate to ask about how to help you in a time of crisis, and how to best support you should the urge to hurt yourself return
Yeosang:
he doesn't want to pressure you to talk about them when he first sees your scars, and he's really good at pretending he doesn't know about them, but in a way that also makes it a bit harder for you to finally talk to him about them
and yet when you do manage to tell him, he's still as shocked as if he hadn't already known about them
he doesn't know how to react, so after some consideration he simply asks you how you feel about them
he really wants to know how comfortable you are talking about them, showing them, etcetc, so that he can react more appropriately
will make sure to match your energy on this - if you're uncomfortable he'll go slow and offer that you can talk about them whenever you want to, while also assuring you that you don't have to; if you're comfortable he'll let himself be a bit more curious
either way he will trust you on what you tell him, and when you assure him that he doesn't have to worry he will believe you
instead, he'll offer an open ear whenever you need it, and he will prove to you that it was the right decision to open up to him about it
San:
fears the worst when he catches a glimpse of your scars one day, but tells himself he shouldn't ask about them and instead wait until you're ready to talk about them yourself
but of course this guy will be worried sick within only a few days, until he ends up very carefully asking you about them
and when you confirm his assumption about your scars, he becomes so worried and at the same time so sad that you had to go through such pain that you would resort to hurting yourself
will approach you very slowly, and then cup your face in his hands to get a good look at you, and you swear nobody has ever looked at you with such pure and deep love in their eyes
"If there's anything I can do to make it better... please tell me. I'll do anything."
you nod, and you let him pull you into a loving kiss that he doesn't seem to want to break as his lips linger on yours
aside from the initial shock, he deals with it quite well, but he definitely becomes more protective of you from then on
makes sure to check in with you whenever you seem down or stressed, and reminds you to take care of yourself just as much as he offers to be there for you whenever you need him
if you're okay with it, he will make a habit of tracing your scars mindlessly, while whispering promises about how he'll do whatever he can so that you would never have to feel this bad ever again
Mingi:
the first time he sees your scars he won't know how to react immediately
however, he's sensible enough to figure that he should try to stay calm first of all
but he also knows that if he doesn't ask about them, he will probably lie awake at night, unable to stop worrying about you
and so he somewhat awkwardly asks what those scars are, and when you give him an honest answer he'll be both relieved and shocked
relieved because it means you trust him a lot, and shocked because now he's wondering what kind of pain you must've gone through to make you hurt yourself
this guy immediately offers you open arms in case you want a hug, and when you accept the embrace he'll tell you that whenever you're having a hard time, he'll be there to protect you
doesn't ask any questions and won't make you talk about it, but from then on you notice him checking up on how you're feeling just a bit more frequently, and he makes sure to make you feel that you always have someone to lean on with him, even during difficult conversations
over time he will definitely start giving your scars a lot of attention, especially when you’re cuddling, tracing them with his fingers and kissing them, while repeatedly whispering to you how much he loves you
Wooyoung:
his first thought when he sees your scars isn't that you caused them yourself, but rather that someone else hurt you
so he's understandably upset, and will immediately reach out for you, asking about who did this to you
until it dawns on him that something's not quite right, because now you're staring at him in shock, and eventually you manage to whisper a "me"
he lets go of you and apologizes for reacting like he did, and you can undoubtedly see how he's calming himself down in order to reassess the situation properly
"Do you... want to talk about it?" - he eventually figures he should just ask, and let you decide what to do with this situation
will listen intently in case you say yes, and when you explain to him why you hurt yourself he will make you promise to come talk to him instead, should you ever feel the urge again
gives you kisses and headpats and hugs and anything else you might want after you make the promise, and when he brings you in for a tight hug he'll whisper a thank you for trusting him enough to tell him about it
Jongho:
he won't make it obvious, but by the time you tell him about your scars, he already has a good guess about what they are, based on the few glimpses he's caught of them so far
will control his reaction to your confession very well, so as not to make you worry about his feelings and to focus on you
acknowledges what you choose to tell him about it, and will listen to what you have to say rather than asking questions about it
"You know if there's something you want to talk about, you can always tell me." - will assure you of that while brushing a thumb against your cheek
however, it will soon become obvious that he's more worried than he initially allowed himself to show, because now he refuses to leave your side if you're not feeling well, and somehow you feel like he's more reluctant to let you go when he hugs you
as you talk more about it, he'll trust that you will come talk to him before doing anything stupid, but still he'll stay at least a little protective of you and offer to help distract you in case you feel the need to hurt yourself again
he too is the type who will find himself touching your scars every now and then (if you give him the okay), kissing them or tracing them with his fingertips in hopes that one day you would associate them with something positive as well
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hwaseonghwasworld · 5 months
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ATEEZ Reaction To You Accidentally Texting Your Crush Maknae Line
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the-midnight-blooms · 1 month
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ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ
pairing: CEO!park seonghwa x scientistwife!reader
AU: modern au
word count: 6.3k
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In the midst of a fragile soul dwindling under the aches of animosity, the married couple laid in bed with their backs facing each other. The husband, Park Seonghwa, an esteemed CEO of a pharmaceutical company ‘Park Pharmaceuticals.’ had the front board of the book lodged into the silk casing of his pillow with his other hand steadying it so he could still, quite painfully, scan his eyes over the text. Agitated, he got up with a grunt before sitting up to finish the chapter of his book. With his scientists publishing reports on the latest medicine they were developing, he immediately rushed back to his university textbooks to affirm he was still equipped with the necessary knowledge to understand the science. Meanwhile, Mrs Park- a research scientist at Park Pharmaceuticals' rival company, ‘Kim Pharma.’ was battling against her insomnia despite motherhood knocking her straight off her feet. Their daughter, Park Dami, was fast asleep in the room next door to Seonghwa’s study cuddling the little Toothless toy he had gifted her when she was still a cherub. It had seemed that Mrs Park was prone to falling asleep at the most odd times of day, whether it be during dinner or cleaning the home.
Perhaps it was the heartache she was suffering from. The love that she had held for her husband was a permanent fixture, a vow that she had promised not to break, and one she had not and never would for as long as she lived. However, the increasingly distant behaviour from her husband in light of his burgeoning role as CEO had her heart yearning for him. Being a mother was difficult and of course, so was Seonghwa’s job. Yet, he also had duties as husband and a father, which he seemed eager to abandon altogether.
“Why can’t you try to understand how difficult it is for me to do all of this? So much pressure at work, then I come to you going on about some stupid dinner with your parents!” He shouted, she flinched at the dissonance of his noxious tone reverberating off the walls of the small study- biting down at her lip.
“I’m sorry, I’ll leave.”
“Sorry, my arse. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be fucking nagging in my ear all the time, would you?” He barked, as she sped out of the room. It had been three weeks since she had, politely and quietly, asked her husband if he was free to attend her mother’s dinner party. He refused, erratically, and despite having apologised with saccharine kisses and diligent promises, he didn’t turn up to dinner in the end.
“Oh he’s busy Mum. He’s seeing to some of the lab work, you know how stressful it was for me.” Her father complained light-heartedly, raising how unfair it was of him to neglect his family.
“Do you want to me have a chat with him? I can give him a good word.” Hastily, she steered her father away from that direction. The last thing she needed was Seonghwa to turn around and blame her for the earache her father would give.
With a relentless sigh, she sat up reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand. His eyes flickered at her movements, lips moving up and down to form the shape of the words as he silently committed them to memory, forming judicious links between the knowledge and application.
“Seonghwa.” She called out for him, he hummed in return, barely reeling his eyes off the page. Please look at me. “I was thinking about going back to work again. I contacted my manager about restarting and at the moment I would only need to go in for about two days or so.” Shutting his book close, he finally met her stare, deep in contemplative thought.
“Do you think you can work and take care of Dami at the same time?” He questioned. She had thought about this several times before she dialled in her manager’s number. As much as she had inherited her father's kind-hearted nature, stunning beauty, and soft-spoken voice in the end it was the passivity she had drawn from her mother naturally rendering herself subservient to prioritise ones needs over her own. Essentially, if she had told Dami to keep her lips on a tight seal and remain of the sofa the whole day: she would.
“I’m sure I can as long as she's in sight. She'll be in nursery from September, so I'll be able to start work.” He fell a little quiet, turning to drop his book onto the night stand.
“Ok, if that’s what you want. If you need me to come home earlier, I mean I can’t at the moment, but in a few weeks time if you need me to-then I will.” Nodding, she sent him a grateful smile before sliding back under the covers to turn her night light off.
Her heels clicked, exasperatedly, on the porcelain white floor dashing straight through the double doors; her heart pounded furiously against her chest, a violent ache gnawing at her arteries. With her body almost barging into a number of figures, her anxious apologies echoed into the swamped corridors, in which her colleagues shook their tired heads in annoyance. Finally, reaching the top floor she scuttled out of the elevator catching the eyes of Mrs Lee.
"Lab coat, darling, lab coat." Squealing, she unbuttoned the off-white coat, scowling at the permanent pen marks and splashes of iodine before handing it to Mr Kim's assistant. Mrs Lee, threw the coat onto her seat, gesticulating for the young scientist to follow her. After a short knock, the heavy glass door was pushed open; several pairs of eyes darting their way.
"Ah, Miss Cheong! How nice of you to join us!" Hongjoong exclaimed, a teasing glint in his eyes that wanted to make her wipe the smirk of his lips.
"My apologies, Mr Kim, we ran into a problem down at the lab." She explained, a blush forging on her cheeks as a grave set of eyes burned into her skin.
"No worries. This is Miss Cheong, she will be our project lead on the next Kim-Park program." The Kim-Park program was founded by Kim Hongjoong of Kim Pharma and Park Seonghwa of Park Pharmaceuticals. With both companies leading the pharmaceutical industry, both founders decided in order to produce a greater economic boom, and serve an excellent supply chain of mandatory medicine; both of their greatest minds could work together to create poignant breakthroughs in the scientific sector. After all, the two companies had the countries top scientists working for them but together they could very well improve the nature of modern medicine. Hence, today both CEO’s came together for a kick off meeting establishing the blueprint for their next, biggest projects.
"'No worries?'" A derisive voice arose from across the room, where she snapped her head to find a man with wide eyes and thin-rimmed square glasses that sat at the bridge of his long nose, staring back at her. His long, slicked back hair that fell past his ears as he, mockingly, cocked his head to the side in amusement. "I didn't know Kim Pharma tolerated tardiness, Mr Kim." Returning his stare back to Hongjoong, he raised an eyebrow anticipating his answer.
“What was the problem down at the lab?”
“House fire." She retorted, "And I had to assign interns some lab work. Kim Pharma doesn't tolerate tardiness Mr Park but your project manager doesn't seem to be here? We'd have valued him being present at the kick off meeting." His face heated red in embarrassment as he gritted his teeth.
Park Seonghwa was insufferable.
The worst thing about him wasn't even that he was pedantic and scrutinised her work with a keen eye, or that his sharp attention-to-detail left her wanting to force him to chug a beaker of concentrated hydrochloric acid. It was that under his strictly co-ordinated demeanour, he was a beautiful man blessed with an angel's aura. It was that he was tall and that his voice could hypnotise her; send her lunging over a precipice into the expanse of uncharted oceans. At times his allure had her wanting to excuse her pathetic hatred. They bickered at every meeting, every email was sent with 'Regards' rather than 'Kind Regards'. It wasn't long before the bickering had transgressed to shouting in the boardroom as he began to question her teachings, snickering at every intellectual point she made as if she had not graduated from university with the same degree as himself.
"You forgot to add that cisplatin is a cis isomer." He stated, as she sat across from her in his office. This time, she didn't bother to retain herself from rolling her eyes. "A problem, Miss Cheong?"
"Who's reading this report, Mr Park? A high school student or the manufacturer? Any man with common sense and college level chemistry knows that cisplatin is a cis isomer. Do you want me to also write down that it has a square planar shape with a bond angle of 90 degrees?" She snapped, leaning back in her chair with a disgusted look. He smirked taking off his glasses, cleaning the lens with the hem of his blazer sleeve. Dear god. Sedate me.
"No, but you do need to explain how cisplatin works in detail. It only works as cis isomer, not trans. You didn't specify that."
"You're incredibly pedantic." Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his perfectly defined nose, the smirk remained fixed on his lips. "I'm not surprised people are handing in resignations, at your company, every week."
"They can leave if they wish, lazy people don't contribute to Park Pharmaceuticals' success." Oh and he was cocky too. As well as being a pretty face full of wits, Park Seonghwa was also wrought with egotism that made her want to wrangle his gorgeous, slender neck. "Have you ever considered joining our company?" A snicker escaped from her lips which eventually transcended into a laughter that wholly baffled him.
"I'm afraid I'd be a part of that sorry statist-,"
"I'm sorry for being an arsehole, Miss Cheong. Can I make it up to you?" And when she questioned him how he would make it up to her, he proposed the idea of a date. All he wanted was her, regardless of her much she was everything he was not. “Go on a date with me, please.” He blurted, with her feet rooted to the ground and lips falling into a thin line his heart palpitated within his chest. He sought the way her hair fell over her shoulders in light waves having ripped it from its knot after she walked out of the lab. Her pink lips were practically begging to be touched by his, he wanted to soothe the symphony of weary sighs that dispersed from her, and the headache that wracked her brain from his abstruse behaviour. Above all, he was falling in love with Miss Cheong because he despised her in such a paradoxical way. He hated the way she was smarter than him and beautiful in the way that she must have been carved from the clouds of heaven.
It often made her giggle at Hongjoong's astonishment when she handed him the wedding invitation. His excitement when he ripped open the seal to read Seonghwa's name as the groom, dropped the smile from his face as he looked at his college friend.
"You're marrying the enemy?" She shook her head at him, almost scolding him for deeming Seonghwa the 'enemy'. "This isn't what I meant when I said 'Fuck Park Seonghwa." Lobbing the pillow at his head, he dramatically sunk into his sofa as their childlike laughter eructed into the blithe atmosphere.
It had felt like a distant dream now, to be loved and adored in the ways that he once did. To be held as if every touch was their last, to be kissed as if their lips would never meet again and they were lovers in the midst of an age-old war that would tear their nimble hearts apart. To have her husband again and not a dispassionate demon who tore past the gates of hell and inflict all the condemned’s curses on her.
Giving you my all, giving you my everything. Laying my life down at your feet, stripping myself of my own honour just to feel something by you. A glance, a breath, a sigh. You tell me to leave- I don’t mean anything to you anymore.
"Hwa, you could have at least told me you weren't going to go in the first place. Then I wouldn't have gone to the company party." Sat at the foot of the bed, he pulled the jumper over his torso, pulling his trapped hair out from the neck hole. He bit his tongue as his wife rebuked him for his absence, once again. "Do you know how humiliating it was for me to be the only one sat without her husband there?"
"I told you I was going to run late."
"You were four hours late, and you're a half an hour drive to the office! Why didn't you say no, in the first place?" Tearing the earring out from her lobe, she sunk into the chair trying her hardest to not slip into tears; the sympathetic stares of hundreds etched into her memory. How stupid did she look for being dressed so ostentatiously, when the real jewel was not even in her possession? The clatter of pearls emptied into the drawers, hands buried into palm of her hands closing her eyes to relive the myriad of dejection. They never said marriage was this painful. Hard, yes. But not painful. "Hwa, do you love me?" She inquired, turning around in her seat.
"What?"
"It's as simple as you think. Do. You. Love. Me?" Her voice wavered as she asked him, the distant stare in his eyes revealed answers to the questions that she did not want answered.
“If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. Or given you a beautiful daughter. I miss one, silly, company event and you start throwing a tantrum.”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve completely abandoned me!” Her shout restituted off the thin light blue walls, jumping from her seat at his petty arguments. “You are such a terrible husband and you make me feel trapped in this marriage!”
“And you fucking suffocate me! You suffocate me!” He roared across the room, his strident tone penetrating through her, grazing down the surface of her heart. Rupturing the weak seams that held it together. Stumbling backwards, her palms gripped onto the mahogany table; shaking, biting down her lip to prevent a sob from escaping. "The only time I felt like I could ever breathe, in this marriage, was when I was not with you. When I was at work, or with the others, or just anywhere else. But never with you." Dipping her head, away from him, she shut her eyes as tight as she could.
"Please stop." she whispered, a plead so quiet it almost went unspoken. Yet Seonghwa heard it anyway because no matter how angry he was, their souls were still intertwined. Their hearts beat as one, they were uniform, one whole being. Slowly, he treaded towards her, mimicking the dip of head.
"Why? Can't you take the truth?" he mocked. Full tears pooled in her eyes, her chest burning from holding in her breath. "I should divorce you." He proclaimed, without a stutter. That was enough to break her. An obnoxious wail infiltrated into the void of the room. Was that what he wanted? To provoke some sort of emotion from her to satisfy his ego? He scoffed, before darting from the room-slamming the door shut behind him. Wrought with tears she trudged to her bed, slipping under the covers; sobbing herself unconscious.
"Mummm. Ammiii. Ammaaa." A small voice whispered, the softness soothing the persisting ache in her chest. Holding back the smile ready to break through, she fixed her eyes shut waiting to see what her daughter would do next.
"Dami, let your mother sleep. Come on." The urge to smile had dropped instantaneously, the familiar sense of forlorn gushing into her again; his sweet, addictive voice puncturing holes into her heart.
"I'm hungry." She could hear the pout on her daughter's lips. Huffing, she groaned loudly snapping at her daughters attention, who jumped up and down in excitement of her mother awaking. Reaching out for her child, she picked her up settling her down on her laps. "Mama, I'm hungry." She squeaked.
"Have you washed up yet?" She shook her head. "Ok, let me go to the bathroom first. Then I'll help you."
"I'll help her wash up." Seonghwa offered. Refusing to look at him, she simply gave him a curt nod, the sight of his face wanting to make her erupt into a fit of sobs.
"I promise I'll never make you cry." He had promised, before their marriage. They sat under the stars, the cool wind brushing at their cheeks. Astronomy books sat scattered around her as she attempted to map out constellations in the beaming night.
"And if you do?" She challenged, playfully smirking. With a cute frown he gave her a nudge.
"I promise I won't but in the 0.00001 percent chance that I do, then you should leave me. You’re worth more than the moon to me, and to hurt you is the deadliest sin I can commit." He immediately leaned forward to swoop her into a deep kiss- both of them smiling as they did. The memory of his now-broken promise brought tears to her eyes again. Tightly pressing her palm to her mouth, to hold back her cries, she sucked in yet another breath. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
Gripping onto the bathroom sink until her knuckles bled white, her knees hit the floor. Nicking the handle of the tap- tears freely flowed down her cheeks as the water rushed through the basin at rapid speed. I want my baby back.
Feeling the heavy burden of a collapsing marriage, her shoulders sunk as she chopped at the onions, preparing their dinner. Dami sat on the stool by the kitchen island, with her mini crayons scribbling over the pictures in the colouring book.
“Mama, why did Appa sleep in my room yesterday?” Scraping the onions into the pan, she grabbed the wooden spoon to stir it.
“He was missing his little princess. He wasn’t causing you trouble, was he?” She teased, sending her a forced smile. God, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay happy. To smile was to pain her cheeks, they felt more contented relaxed than to uplift and radiate an aura of joy that didn’t seem to exist within her anymore.
“He’s so big, I fell off bed.” She snorted, laughing at her child’s proclamation. It was not long before a thought occurred to her that whenever they slept in the same bed- it was always her that took up the most room-rather than him. A fond memory occurred to her, specifically a night where her body was plastered to his.
“Ah, jagi, can you move a little? I’m up against the window?” Her body shuffled slightly to the left, giving him room to breathe a little bit more. “Thank god.” He huffed out a sigh of relief, her lips fell into a pout- as she rolled further away from him towards the edge of the bed. If space was what he wanted, then she was going to give it to him. Seonghwa’s arm outstretched for her, the cold air battering his skin was no comfort, he wanted her again. A tantalising laugher infiltrated the air, he shuffled closer to her pressing his lips to the top of her head.
“Never mind I need my cuddly bunny.” He sang, nestling his face into the crook of her neck. Now, she couldn’t remember the last time he had held her so close to himself. If anything, he needed the space now and rested just less than a metre apart from her each night.
“It was nice! Appa is a teddy bear.”
“Am I, my princess?” Turning away from the doorway, she opened the cupboard to reach for the spices, shielding her melancholic face away from him. The sweet dissonance of giggling entered her ears, if he had no love to spare for her at least he had enough to spare for his daughter. “Ahem, I’m going on a business dinner tonight.”
“Ok.” Seonghwa watched her, resting his hand on the top of his daughter’s head who went straight back to colouring in the flowers in her book-switching to a pink crayon at that. “What time will you be home?” He shrugged, then quickly noticed that with her back to him she wouldn’t see.
“I don’t know. Don’t wait up.” How could he say that knowing that there wasn’t a night in their marriage where she didn’t sit patiently on the sofa, waiting for him to come back home. Even on the days where he warned her he’d be back a lot later than usual. Regardless, she’d stay plastered to the sofa switching from the tv, to her phone, to a random book-eyes continuously flickering to clock- skipping to the kitchen to shove snacks into her mouth, as she’d never eat without him.
The urge to erupt into a fit of sobs inclined, chewing on her lip violently provided her with enough solace to finish making dinner, feed her daughter and put her to bed. Then at last, when she closed the curtains to her bedroom, a hushed cry escaped her; spending the rest of her night as she did prior, wailing and wailing until fatigue had lulled her weary heart to sleep. The creak of the door went unnoticed to her, Seonghwa crept in; her sleeping figure rested in the bed, the comforter dragged over her head. He sighed, contemplating whether to slip beside her or retreat back to Dami’s room for the night.
This sequence continued for the next few weeks, every night she would cry herself to sleep and Seonghwa would sleep in Dami’s bed. It wasn’t even their room at this point, it was hers with Seonghwa’s things in it-just like her flat pre-marriage. Her room with Seonghwa’s books, few pieces of clothes and odd bits of trinkets. One morning she woke up to find a stack of papers on her nightstand. Fear coursed through her blood, were these the divorce papers that he had suggested to her? Rifling through the papers, her heart soothed as soon as she realised they were just Dami’s crayon drawings. Stick figures of Appa, Amma, and little Dami in the middle. Drawings of flowers, then one just of Amma and Appa, a big heart between them. If only that were true. If only his heart still beat for her the same way hers beat for him.
She heard his voice trail out of the study, as she almost raised her hands to knock and summon him downstairs for lunch. The rapid muttering halted her movements, instead she tentatively pressed her ears against the door to assess the situation.
“Yes, honey, I’ll be there soon…She’s pissing me off right now. I’m trying to get the papers set at the moment…I don’t know about a few more weeks?” Slapping her hand to her mouth, she squeezed her lips shut to prevent any pained sounds from releasing. Honey? There was another woman? And the papers? Was he really, truly, trying to divorce her? Rushing to the bathroom, she slammed the door shut, flipping the tap back open to relive the same endless cycle.
“I’m going on a work trip to Japan, for a week. We have an important business meeting. I might need you take care of Dami by yourself.” His head snapped from up Dami’s unfinished Lego project. She’d fallen asleep when playing, so her father took it upon herself to finish building the set.
“You should have asked me beforehand. You can’t just accept to go offshore, and then give me a week’s notice.” He scolded, playing with the pink block between his fingers.
“I only got told today. I tried to call you whilst I was still in office, but I couldn’t get through to you.” Sighing, his shoulders slumped as he shook his head in disappointment. It appeared that Mrs Park was also refraining important matters from her husband; making decisions of her own that they promised they’d always make together. An uncomfortable silence remained suspended in the tense air, shifting uncomfortably in her spot as she awaited for him to say something else. Even if it was to belittle her, she urged to hear the sound of his voice.
“If you cared enough about me, you’d know I’m busy too.” Chewing down on her lip, she held back a painful sigh. There it is. “We’ll be with my parents for a week while you’re gone. When’s your flight?”
“Sunday night.” Nodding, he scooped up the remaining pieces on the floor pouring them back into the packet before getting up himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”
The work trip to Japan was just as tranquil as she anticipated, the host company was as hospitable as they could be. The days were cut short, the air silent subsiding one into deep thought, even if they denied themselves the pleasures of having to think. With her knees tucked up to her chest, she stared out onto the vast market of skyscrapers, the teeming arena beneath contributing the noises that fell deaf at her ears. She needed to leave the home, its confining airs strangling the lumen of her windpipe. She didn't exactly know what to do now that it was confirmed: Seonghwa did not love her. The declaration was enough to send her into delirium, enough to have her jolting up at night; drowning in cold sweats, preaching his name like a mantra. The flight home did not come soon enough, she boarded the plane with such eagerness and drenched even further in pain when she was assigned the seat next to her colleague and her husband.
Nervously, she dialled in his number once more hurriedly, tapping her feet against the cobbled footpath; her free hand latched onto the sweaty handle of the suitcase. Pick up, pick up, pick up. Being met by the voicemail service was disheartening, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind blew harsh against her skin sending a ripple of goosebumps over her.
"Mrs Park, is your taxi late?" Whipping her head around to find her colleague, she shook her head in dismay. "Do you need a lift? We don't live too far from each other."
Pushing through the large wooden gates of his childhood home, she adjusted the straps of her back pack lifting her head to find the blaring of orange lights through the slits between the window blinds. A small bustle of activity could be heard from the other end, tentatively, her fingers rose to provoke the silver door knocker.
"I'll get the door!" His voice floated through the surface, reaching out to caress the aches on her skin bruised wholly by him. As soon as their eyes met across the doorway, the smile was wiped clean from his lips. “Oh god, I’m sorry, it had completely slipped my mind-,”
“You don’t forget things, Hwa. The truth is: it didn’t slip from your mind, you just didn’t care.” You haven’t cared about me for a very long time. You haven’t loved me in a long time. I am no longer your wife but just Dami’s mother, to you. Though some sort of vile emotion named fear had prevented her from saying those words, becoming lodged at the crux of her throat, floating on the tip of her tongue.
The worst thing was, he didn’t say anything. He was silent, unwilling to reckon against her and fight for their marriage again. When did he become so passive? Up until now, when was there a day in their relationship when he didn’t fight to keep her at his side? Trudging into the household, the warmth lacerated her skin, taking off her shoes as the pattering of small feet came her way. A small body engulfed her larger frame, the delightful giggles of her daughter infiltrated her ears as her mother finally came home to her.
"We ate sooo much food. We had tteokbokki, dakgalbi, ramen. Halmeoni tried to make me eat yaksik but it was nasty." Letting out a tired moan she fell onto the floorboard, Dami crawling on top of her, as her mother-in-law stuffed her with enough food to last her a century.
"Ugh, Dami. Please get off Amma, my tummy is going to explode."
"Halmeoni! Amma ate too much!"
"Your Amma didn't eat enough!" Eomeonim shouted back from the kitchen. Seonghwa ambled into the room settling a cup of green tea in front of her, whilst simultaneously lifting Dami from her stomach. There was an uncomfortable silence amongst them as their daughter, oblivious to the obvious tension between her parents, entertained them nevertheless by dancing around the room and singing. He left the room in between to see to his mother in the kitchen. Feeling terrible for leaving her to tend to the mound of dishes, she carried behind walking straight into the enemy's territory.
“Are you stupid, boy? How could you even suggest a divorce?” She hissed. “It was only yesterday when you came running to me, with your eyes so full of love. Where is that love now?”
“People change.” He deadpanned, hot tears fulfilled her eyes, blurring her vision as she rushed back to the front room.
“We’re going, now!” She ordered, a pout on her daughter’s face grazed the surface of her heart. She couldn’t stand here, and hear her husband declare that he didn’t love her anymore. She couldn’t watch the love of her life slip from the tips of her fingers, whilst she sunk beneath the earth under her feet. She grabbed his car keys, from his jacket. “We’re going home, eomeonim. I need to go into the office, tomorrow. Thank you so much for taking care of Dami.” Kissing the top of her mother’s head, she slipped on her shoes before carrying Dami out of the home. Seonghwa followed hot on her heels.
“Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?”
“Home, Hwa.” The lock clicked out of the place, she jerked open the car door to fasten her daughter into the seat ignoring her cries and pleads to stay at her grandmother’s. “Dami! Quiet!” She roared, the same way Seonghwa would shout at her for nights on end for doing nothing other than being his wife.
“Stop acting like a child and come back inside right now!” He commanded.
“I won’t, Hwa. Because the next time I go back in and let myself be hurt by you, I’ll have no one to blame but me.” He fell quiet, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat. “I am the still the girl who would wait nights for her husband to come home to her. But you are no longer the boy that would walk straight into her arms.” Choking on her sobs, she jerked open the car door to slip inside, her daughter calling out for her father. After all, they were the same woman. Both so utterly in love with the same man that could not love them both in the ways one could dream of being in love. For being in love with him was asking for annihilation, his devotion unreachable like the stars studded in the midnight sky. Was he not made from the stars? An angel borne from light, whose banner was a celestial plane that would diminish the human essence in a heartbeat? Steering the car out of his driveway, Seonghwa stood plastered to the floor a single tear dropping from his eye as he felt his soul meander away from him.
That night, when they reached home, Dami was tight in her arms after having cried the whole journey home from missing her father. Eventually, exhaustion overpowered her and she reluctantly slept in her mother’s arms. She was so sure now that her daughter thought she was the villain for ripping her away from her father. Nuzzling her small face deeper into her mother’s neck, she felt her bottom lip tremble as she called out for her father.
There was no need to frantically run to the post box every time a letter slipped through, meeting the ground with a loud thud. Though, she did it anyway, with little Dami scuttling behind her as if she was expecting a letter herself though deep down Mrs Park knew that she wanted her Appa to come home. It had been a month having not heard back from him. No messages or calls. After work, she ventured over to his office only to be turned away by his assistant; catching a quick glance at his shadow through his window.
“I have to make an appointment to see my own husband?” She uttered through gritted teeth, though the woman in front merely nodded, disinterestedly. “When is Mr Park next available?” The jarring clatter against the keyboard gnawed at her ear drums, annoyance fulfilling her.
Fuck this. Rushing to the handle of his door, she keeled it open storming inside-the loud slam of the door jumping him up from where he sat in his seat. The assistant rushed behind, squawking about how she had to leave.
“Cilla, it’s ok. Go do your job.” He ordered, softly with his eyes fixated on his wife. She didn’t expect him to look this way, the clean, composed Seonghwa now with tousled hair and small dark circles under his eyes. Eyes bloodshot red as if he had been crying for weeks on end, exhaustion piling in them. His sunken face as if he had not eaten for weeks-Seonghwa, not eating? The same man who used to kiss her hands and go for seconds, claiming there must have been some magic in them for she made such delicious food?
“Dami is getting upset. She misses her Dad. The least you could is come home and see her, so she doesn’t think that her father abandoned her too.”
“I’ve been busy-,”
“You’ll always be busy, Hw-Seonghwa. But not busy enough that you can’t spare an hour or two to see your daughter.” She spat, storming straight out of his office, sending the assistant a dirty look on her way to the elevator.
“Appa!” Dami’s animated tone weighed down her father’s heart, his arms wide open as she jumped into them. Fixing her spot by the kitchen doorway she watched as her husband played with her daughter. After a few hours, when they had put Dami to sleep, they sat with each other in the front room Seonghwa pulling out an envelope from his work satchel.
“The-uh- papers. Divorce papers.” A pang struck through her, hands shaking as she reached out for them.
“As her mother, I’ll have custody over her. You should be allowed to see her every week, so maybe the weekend?” Her voice quivered, slightly as she opened up the seal of the envelope, its woody scent wafting up her nose. With little energy, to pull out the form- she settled it onto the coffee table. “We’ll move to my mother’s house…” She trailed off biting down on her lip as Seonghwa closed his eyes shut.
“That’s fine. You can just post it to the lawyer. I’d like to see Dami at my office next week, could you do that?” Nodding diligently, she owed him that much. He’d be counting down the days soon until he’d rarely see his daughter. How would they tell her Amma and Appa weren’t as happy as they were in the drawings?
Her eyes scoured over the woman sat in front of him, as she opened the door to his office. God, she was beautiful with her long, black, silky hair, siren eyes, her chic office look. Everything she was not, though she had managed to pick herself up and put a lot more effort than she usually did with her fitted suit, hair tied back into a sleek bun-held up by the closest pen she could find on her dressing table since her silver claw clip was nowhere in sight. Was she the woman he was going to leave her for? She couldn’t even blame him at this point, why keep something expired when you could throw it away and have something new? Gripping onto the straps of her handbag, she slowly let go of her daughter’s hand who ran to her father’s side.
“Gaeun, this is my wife Mrs Park.” Timidly, she shook her hand. Gaeun saw Mrs Park as an intimidating woman, with her silent face as she ambled into the room with her daughter, her neat hair, pointed heels and tailored skirt that accentuated her curves. She matched Mr Park’s daunting presence perfectly, and of course her intelligence was known to all as well as her insistence to remain at his rivals’ company. “Dear, this is Gaeun- she’s one of the project leads on the next Kim-Park collaboration.”
“I see.” Her head picked up, giving both parties a short nod before leaving the office. She reckoned there was enough to time to make it to her own company and break down in the toilets before beginning the work day.
The rain thundered down from the sky on a solemn afternoon, the clatter of dishes being returned to the cupboards entailing the home; followed the thundering knock at the door. Peeking into the peep hole, the swung the door open, she pulled her husband in immediately rushing around him as he jerked off his shoes.
“Into the shower now.” Without hesitation, he grabbed his clothes from her bedroom before soundlessly making his way into the shower. She only assumed he had come to their home for the signed papers, it had been a while since he’d given them to her; though all she could think about was the way her pen could not even touch the sheet. The door to the study creaked open, as she bit her lip with the unsigned line glaring back at her.
“I haven’t- I haven’t signed the paper, yet.” His breath hitched in his throat, inching closer and closer to her. With the tickle in her throat pervasive, the pen neared the line her heart shattering with every second that her hands rebuked the damned sheet in front. How did she even do her signature?
“I’m sorry that you fell in love with me. I’m sorry that you married me. I’m sorry that I’m not enough. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the perfect wife for you.” She blurted, the pen falling from her fingers onto the table. He called out her name, drawing forward arms outstretched to encircle her into him. To hold her as tight and as true as she deserved. To fulfil her of kisses that he had deprived her of, to ease her of her pain. Though she stopped him in his tracks, with a palm to censor his movements. “No, Hwa. I haven’t been enough for you for a very long time. I must have done something wrong for you to hurt me like this. I must have done something much worse than what you’ve done to me. I just wished you spoke to me than gave me this stupid sheet and trying to end us in a single heartbeat.” An agonising wail left her lips, as she dropped to the floor tucking up her knees to her chest. Her lungs burned, desperate for air running her fingers through her hair as she slowly breathed out to ease the throbbing sensation loitering at her temples. He sunk to the floor with her, engulfing her frame within his. His jumper so soft, drenched in the scent that she adored. The same scent that he wore when they first met. Her bottom lip quivered again.
“You did nothing, it was all me. I forgot who I was, I forgot it was you who gave me life.” Her tears stained his shirt, he held her closer to his body. “I came to here to change your mind. I didn’t want you to sign those papers. I was so scared you had.” Their bodies rocked back and forth as the painful sound of her sobbing gradually declined.
“I couldn’t do it.” She whispered, her throat sore from this prolonging nightmare. Kissing away her tears, his fingers gently tilted up her head so he could bore his eyes in her beautiful ones. “I just need to know if there’s another woman. If there is, and you love her the same way you loved me, you can have her.”
“There was never another woman. It was always you I swear.” He pledged, as his own tears rushed down his face tickling his jawline before pattering carefully on his sweater. “I was just a poor excuse of a man, a poor excuse of a husband. I admit that I felt like you’d never leave me, but when I realised you really could it hurt me so much.” Drawing lines over his sweatshirt she listened to the sweet sound of his voice whisper into her ears.
“I’ll be a better man. I’ll work on me, and you can just keep on being a great wife and mother.” Their lips met in a frenzy of emotions, their palpitating hearts enamouring their befallen entities as passionate kisses filled the wounds that penetrated through them. His hands snaked around her waist, as hers ran through his long hair emitting a husky groan out of him. “Do you think Dami would like a sibling?” He joked, before being met by whack to the back of his head, they deepened the kiss before she happily rested her head against his chest.
“Maybe, but not now. Right now, you need to come home to us.”
“It’s just you and me now. Nothing’s going to hurt you baby.”
•••
All Right Reserved © the-midnight-blooms
DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE
cheong meaning 'quiet' 'eomeonim' means mother-in-law (husband's side) 'halmeoni' means grandma
A/N: i'm sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, i'm going on some meds soon and i have no idea how shit i'm gonna feel while on them. wanted to update in case i have no energy to release something else for a while😖 Hope you guys liked this one! ✨✨
let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!
tags: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho
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idyllic-ghost · 6 months
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title: Hopefully pairing: idol!hongjoong x reader genre: domestic fluff, slight angst, idol!au, secret relationship, hurt/comfort warnings: anxiety over a relatively new relationship, a sexual innuendo, general fears about abandonment and the future of the relationship, not proofread synopsis: You haven’t seen Hongjoong in a week and it’s starting to take a toll on you. wordcount: 3k taglist: @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @niktwazny303, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang rating: PG
a/n: this is a bit inspired by “oxalá” (aka hopefully) by MARO! i know i was going to write something else, but this story came to my mind and i needed to get it out😭
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You’ve got one (1) new voicemail!
“Hey, babe, I’m not going to make it to your place tonight. I got stuck at the studio and lost track of the time- I’m sorry, I know I said I would come over… I have practice tomorrow morning, but maybe I can try to sneak off to you tomorrow evening? I promise I’ll try my best to make it work! Sleep w-”
The beep cut off the message before Hongjoong got to finish. It was the second time you had listened to it. He had called you while you were at work, doing overtime, and you hadn’t heard your phone buzzing in your bag. It was typical of the two of you; you always managed to miss each other by a hair. You sighed and put down your phone on the counter. The clock on your kitchen wall said 12:30, and you’d usually be in bed by now but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay down in it. Not when you knew the bed would be empty, and the sheets would be cold. Therefore, you sat by the counter with a cup of tea in front of you. 
You were nursing the cup in your palms as if the warmth of the mug would be as comforting as your lover’s embrace. It was late when he had called you, and it sounded like he was heading off to bed, but you were still mulling over whether or not to call him - you just needed to hear his voice. Your phone was next to the cup on the counter, its dark screen was taunting you with your reflection. The little amount of willpower that you had was not enough to keep you away from him; so you picked up your phone and texted him.
You [12:32]: are you awake?
After pressing send, you quickly put your phone down and sighed. You had lost to your needs and wants yet again. The two of you weren’t even official - you couldn’t be. It was easy to fall in love with him, but harder to keep loving him. Everything had to stay secret, no matter how much you wanted to shout to the world that, yes, you were very much in love with Kim Hongjoong and he actually liked you back! However, with his line of work came a lot of restrictions. Seeing him was difficult, meeting up with him in public was even more difficult, and telling people that you were dating was out of the question. 
As much as you enjoyed sneaking around with him, you couldn’t deny your want to be his and for him to be yours - you wanted to be his partner, and you wanted others to know that you were his partner. Instead, you’re stuck in an in-between-relationship; where you’re exclusively seeing each other, but unable to do things that partners would or tell anyone that you were partners - a relationship where you were still scared to seem clingy, despite the two of you barely seeing each other. The low buzzing of your phone brought you out of your spiraling thoughts.
Hongjoong [12:34]: yes, but why are you awake?🤨
You smiled at the message, trying to contain your excitement by biting your bottom lip. The cup was set to the side, the comforting warmth on your palms no longer needed, and you picked up your phone.
You [12:34]: I couldn’t sleep.. did I wake you up?
Hongjoong [12:35]: no, I’m still in the studio🥲why can’t you sleep?
You sighed yet again, trying to come up with an excuse that wasn’t utterly embarrassing to type out. Before you could answer him, your phone buzzed again.
Hongjoong [12:36]:  do you want me to call you?
It was as if he could read your mind. You quickly sent him a yes, and put your phone down to wait for him to call. It only took a few seconds. After waiting for a few seconds, trying to figure out when the appropriate amount of time had passed to answer, you pressed ‘Accept call’ and held the phone up to your ear.
“Hi, baby.” Hongjoong’s voice was raspy like he hadn’t spoken for a long time.
Baby. The nickname had slipped out so casually that you almost didn’t realize that he had said it. Now it was all you could think about. Hongjoong didn’t call you by pet names often, they’d slip out in the heat of the moment and he’d get shy. He could suddenly go from slightly irritated over you touching something in his studio, to a flustered mess because of you teasing him about calling you babe. You would never get tired of it.
“Hey, am I interrupting?” You brought your hand up to your mouth, biting down on your thumb’s nail.
“No, I’m packing up for the night soon.” He sighed, and you could hear him push his chair away from his desk. “I’m sorry for not coming over today.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” you murmured. “Work is important.”
“Not more important than you,” he countered a little too quickly. “I’m working on work-life balance. I promise.”
“I know.” You chuckled under your breath. 
The line went quiet for a moment. You could hear his breathing - soft and steady - and you could picture him, sitting in his chair with a large hoodie draping over his frame. A mixture of comfort and disappointment flooded your veins. Comfort from hearing his voice, disappointment from not being able to hear it in person. Hongjoong cleared his throat, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know…” you trailed off, but shortly thereafter continued, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
His words lingered in the air, and you closed your eyes to savor them. A part of you wanted to yell that if he missed you so much he should try to be here more, but you knew it wasn’t fair. It’s not his fault. You shut your eyes tighter, bowing your head down as if to curl into yourself, and tried to hide from the angry feeling bubbling up in your stomach. Tears started stinging in your eyes, and, despite your efforts, a weak sob made its way past your lips.
“Y/N…” You could hear the frown in Hongjoong’s voice. “I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”
“I’m not,” you lied as you wiped away your tears. “I promise, I’m not. It’s okay. I’m okay.”
The line went quiet again as you sniffled. You could hear shuffling from his end, as he gathered together his things. As you pieced everything together, you quickly tried to protest - telling him that he didn’t have to come over and that you really were fine.
“Stop it.” His voice was shaky. “I’m coming over, and you can’t stop me.”
“I wasn’t trying to-”
“I know.”
“... could you stay on the phone with me until you get here?” you asked quietly, your voice coming off as weaker than you wanted it to.
“Of course.”
You grabbed a tissue and wiped your face from tears and snot, and the realization of what you were doing hit you then. It felt stupid to cry over this, but it had gone too long since you had seen him. The urge to cry, kick, and scream was overwhelming - but you kept it inside your chest with a deep breath. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled. “I really didn’t mean to pull you away from work.”
“I know, it’s okay,” he assured you. “I’m heading to the parking lot now, it’ll only be a few minutes.”
A few minutes until you get to see Hongjoong. You could wait just a few more minutes, right? Despite the assurance that he’d be here soon, the empty feeling in your heart didn’t dissipate. In fact, the cavity in your chest only grew larger. You knew he wouldn’t get here for a while, but you still got up from your chair and walked over to your front door.
“How long has it been since I got to see you?” you thought out loud.
“I think it’s been a week already.” Hongjoong groaned. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, okay? I knew what I signed up for with you.”
It was meant as reassurance, but it came out wrong and you cringed as soon as the words left your lips. Hongjoong laughed, making you feel just a little lighter on your feet. You heard the jingling sound of his keys, signaling that he was already near his car.
“That came out wrong,” you said.
“It’s okay, I get it.” You could hear him open the car door. “Let me put you on speaker, hold on a second.”
You leaned against the wall and listened to the rustling sounds of Hongjoong getting into his car and putting down his phone. The engine started, and he stayed quiet as he focused on getting out of his parking space. The parking lot must have been almost empty because it didn’t take long for him to get back to you.
“Alright, I’m on my way now!” he chimed.
“Thank you, baby…”
“Baby?” he teased, laughing as he finally got to take revenge on you.
“Shut up-”
“No, I deserve this,” he argued. “You never call me pet names, I’m taking advantage of it.”
“Well, now I’m never doing it again.”
He gasped on the other side of the line, and you could practically hear the fake-hurt pout on his lips as he muttered something under his breath. No matter the situation, Hongjoong could always find a way to make you smile.
“I teased you once and now you’re revoking my pet name privileges?” He scoffed. 
You liked him like this. It made you forget about everything else; this was the actual Hongjoong, and only you could witness it. In one slow movement, you slid down onto the floor and crossed your legs. With your head leaning against the wall, you looked up to the ceiling and smiled.
“I thought you didn’t like the mushy stuff,” you said, “I would include pet names in that.”
“I don’t dislike mushy stuff… I just get shy,” he admitted quietly.
“You don’t seem very shy when you go on stage,” you countered.
“That’s different!” he exclaimed, and added with a hushed voice, “I just get shy around you.”
Your smile grew wider. You wanted to tell him that you got shy around him, too, and all of the other things he made you feel - but you couldn’t find the words. His words were saved in the back of your mind, for you to think of later and come up with something equally heartwarming.
“I’m almost there,” he said to break the silence, and you could hear the clicking sound of his blinkers as he was probably driving up to the car park already.
“Good,” you said. “Hongjoong?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll stop teasing you for calling me nicknames,” you said, “if I get to keep calling you ‘baby’, too.”
“Deal.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “I’m getting out of the car now, baby.”
A laugh bubbled up your throat. Partially because of his silly tone, but also out of pure excitement. Your giddiness was apparently contagious, as Hongjoong let out a giggle as well - and you could hear the echo of his shoes hitting the concrete floor as he sprinted towards your building.
“I’m almost at the elevator!” he whisper-yelled.
“Hurry!”
He swore under his breath, clicking the button to the elevator multiple times. Eventually, you heard a ding and the doors opening. He was so close. You wanted to run out of your apartment and meet him halfway, but you knew that his being here was already a risk in itself. So you settled beside the door, no longer sitting on the floor. And when you heard the keys you had given him unlock the door, you quickly opened it and pounced on him. He stumbled back slightly, pressing ‘End call’ on his phone before hugging you back. With your arms still wrapped around him, he walked into your apartment and closed the door behind the two of you. Only then did he fully embrace you. You buried your head into his coat, cold from the chill air outside but it smelled like him so you didn’t mind. Your hands balled up into fists, creasing the soft material of his coat, and you pulled him even closer to you. Hongjoong’s chin found its rightful place on the top of your head. 
“I’ve missed you,” he repeated, and you felt your tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks again. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” His voice was trembling now.
As you tried to get out of his grip to look at him and comfort him, Hongjoong put his hand on the back of your head. He held you in place, soft enough to still allow you to leave if you really wanted to let go but firm as if he was silently begging you to stay. So, you stayed and pretended not to notice the tears that fell from his eyes and hit the top of your head. He shifted to kiss the top of your head and gave you one last squeeze before letting you go. You watched as he wiped his tears with his sleeve, quickly as if you wouldn’t notice. For his sake, you pretended that you didn’t.
“Have you eaten?” you asked.
“I ate some take-out for dinner.” He bent down to take off his shoes. “If you’re hungry we can eat, but I just want to go to bed with you.”
Yes. Bed. The concept that had seemed so daunting before now felt like a long-lost dream that had come to life. He stood back up, and you took a long look at him. He had colored his hair, you had seen pictures but you hadn’t seen it in person yet. Blonde always did suit him. He was busy taking off his coat while you watched him. It hadn’t settled in your brain that he was actually in front of you, it felt unreal.
“So?”
“Hm?”
“Are you hungry?” he asked with a smile. You had really missed that smile.
“Oh. No, I ate earlier.” You held out your hand to him. “Let’s go to bed.”
He took your hand gleefully and followed you like a puppy who’s just been promised a walk. You brought him to your bedroom. It was clean, and the bed was still made from this morning. While Hongjoong sat down on the edge of your bed, you pulled out some of the clothes that he had left there - an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, that you desperately didn’t want to give back.
“I’ve been looking for this,” he hummed as you gave him the clothes. “I didn’t know I had left it here…”
“I, uh… I may have stolen it.” You sent him your best smile, trying to look as innocent as possible.
“You’re cute.” Was all he said before he went into the bathroom to change.
You had the sudden urge to follow him - and, despite what he would think and tease you for, it was not with sexual intent. Now that you finally got to see him again, you couldn’t stand him leaving even for a second. However, you stood your ground and decided to fix up the bed instead. You removed any throw pillows, and pulled down the covers. Just as you got into your side of the bed, Hongjoong came back from the bathroom. He left his clothes on a chair, before he all but ran to your bed. When he had gotten under the covers, he shuffled closer to you and began peppering your face with kisses.
“I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you…” he muttered between every other kiss.
You laughed until you were gasping for air, but you didn’t dare lean away from him. As he planted a final kiss on your lips, you let out a low hum of approval. Hongjoong pulled you closer, letting you snuggle up against his chest. It was almost impossible for you to stop smiling. As it settled in your bones that he was actually there, right in front of you, you finally relaxed.
“I want it to be like this all the time,” you admitted.
“Me too,” he murmured. “I’m sorry it’s so complicated.”
“It’s okay,” you hummed. “I guess it makes times like these more special.”
“I’ll try to make a plan for the future, okay?” he said. “I’ll talk to the company and we can figure something out. We could find a good apartment and-”
“You want to move in with me?”
“Yeah, I love you.”
Maybe it was the fact that it was late, or maybe he hadn’t been sleeping a lot since you last saw him, but the words slipped out of his mouth so casually that you almost didn’t register that he said it. You looked up at him. He was still talking about his plans, not having realized what he had said. Putting one of your hands on his face, gently cupping his cheek, got his attention. His words faltered and you brought his lips to yours for a chaste kiss.
“I love you, too.”
At first, he just seemed shocked, but you could see the gears turning in his head. When he finally remembered what he had said, his face was practically glowing in the dark. He quickly tried to explain how he was very tired, and that he was going to make the moment more special but he had forgotten. You simply smiled and put your head on his chest again, the action silencing the man lying next to you again.
“Keep telling me about your plans,” you said.
He started talking again, and you felt the soft vibration of his words in his chest. As he talked about your future, you slowly drifted off to sleep. Hongjoong kept talking until he finally heard you snore. He brought the covers over your shoulder and hugged you closer. Hopefully, he’d be able to spend every night with you just like this.
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wbtsan · 3 months
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YOU OVER THE WORLD
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pairing: nonidol!san x female!reader
warnings: none
genre: fluff
tags: period cramps, kissing, cuddling and nothing else (?)
authors note: alright so since we ALLLLL know san is a cutie patootie pie, he gives off husband material and he's so cute, loving, adorable, ugh i can't even describe him hes so adorable i love him
"tell me where it hurts." san says. you've been on your ladies days again and this time, these cramps are getting even worse. pain killers? didn't work. hot bottle bag? didn't work. everything just doesn't seem to be working for you no matter what. that was until san learnt about it. although you don't really say anything when your period started, he can instantly catch on and help you in whatever you need.
san rubbed small little circles on your lower stomach, easing the pain a little bit. you sigh softly, feeling relieved that you have a wonderful and caring boyfriend to help you. "thank you for helping me san. i know you probably get tired of doing this for me every month b-" you get cut off when san kisses you on your lips. "don't push it. it's no big deal. if you don't feel the best, then im your personal doctor even though im technically not qualifed to be one.." san says, while he pouts slightly. you laugh softly at his poutness as you kiss him back.
while san went to go get some stuff for you, you're cramps started to kick in again. except it turned out to be even worse. you were groaning in pain, all curled up into a tiny ball and you couldn't help but start to cry just a slight bit. luckily, it didn't take too long before san came back from the store and saw you in pain. "omg baby!" he says, rushing to the couch to look at you. "what happened? are you okay? do you need some painkillers? water? food? what do you need?" he says, signalling for any discomfort. you breathed in and out, slowly calming yourself down. "can we just cuddle for a bit? im just really sore from all these cramps." you manage to mutter. "anything for you dear." he says before softly placing you on his stomach, rubbing soft soothing circles on your back.
"you know ill always love you right?"
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justaaveragereader · 1 year
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Addicted
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Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Genre: Smut, Comfort Sex
Warning⛔️: Unprotected Sex (No Glove, No Love), Slight Choking, Cream Pie, Needy And Clingy Hongjoong, Marking, If I Missed Anything Let Me Know👀!
NSFW & Warnings Under Cut - Minors DNI!!! 🔞
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Your smile was enticing, your smell was perpetual, you were addicting. Everything about you was worth being addicted to. That frightened Hongjoong. He wanted, no, needed your presence to weigh down on him. He needed you to back him into a corner and suffocate him. He needed it, he wanted it, he craved it. He was addicted and he didn’t want to stop.
Not only did he have the crushing pressure of the company on his shoulders, he also had the responsibility of producing not only for his own group but also for Xikers. It’s not that he didn’t love what he did, sometimes it just got exhausting. You were a light, and he was a careless moth drawn into you.
You were always good to him, if he called, you came. If he needed you while he was halfway across the globe you tried your best to show up for him. He was convinced you could cure any and everything he went through with just a simple glance. He is a very intense lover, you knew that, and tried your best to match him and the thought of that made his eyes glass over.
Standing in the doorway of his studio, hands full of food amongst other small snacks and drinks. He could smell your perfume clouding the small studio, your eyes ogling over him. Not like he was a chore, not like he was a burden, like he was the only man for you. You jiggle the bag letting him know that the items inside are for him to enjoy.
“I figured you hadn’t eaten yet, so I thought I would stop by and bring you something to eat, and snack on for when you are feeling snacky.” You say while walking towards him placing the bags down, his eyes trailing over you like it’s his very first time seeing you.
“And…I missed you, I wanted to see you. So I thought why not knock two birds with one stone.”
There it was, that tug on his heart, he could physically feel you love him, still at times it didn’t feel like enough. He needed you 7 days a week, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Even if he had you all the time, it still wouldn’t feel like enough to him. He was always longing for you, and the thought of you missing and longing for him always made him just a smidge more addicted to you.
“You missed me?” He breathes out in a raspy voice, heart taking over his mind. Cock slightly growing hard in the thought of you wanting him.
“I always miss you Joong.” You turn your body full towards him, pulling his chair out slightly so you can stand in between his legs. Your eyes looking down at him with love, while he cocks his head back to fully take you in. A true goddess. Your words were enough to take his breath away, feeling his chest squeeze he brings his hands up to your hips. Slightly lifting your shirt so he can run his thumbs over your skin. He needs to feel your skin underneath his fingers tips.
“You miss me?” You say lightly, you know the answer, yet you want to hear him say it. Your fingers comb lightly through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.
Bringing his face into your clothed stomach, inhaling your scent. He exhales, dopamine filling his inner body. His body always spoke louder than his words ever could.
“Morning, noon, and night.” He says through a muffle voice, face still pressed into your stomach.
“Miss me all the time it sounds like.” You speak quietly, hands now working their way down to run at his tense shoulders, your hands on his body immediately ease him, his shoulders loosening instantaneously.
“I miss you even when you are next to me.” He says pulling back from your stomach, your hands pausing at his shoulders. His hands coming down to undo the button on your jeans. He needed you to feel every word that he was going to say. His mask was slipping off, his true self and feelings were surfacing.
“I don’t think you understand how much I need you.” He whispers out, dragging your jeans down to your ankles, helping you step out of them. His lips place light feather kisses along your lower stomach.
“I love you so fucking much.” His voice slightly cracks at the end, a small smile graces your face. You were always enamored with Hongjoong, his intensity is a key reason why you were drawn to him.
“No matter how much I have you, it never feels like enough.” His wet lips leave a trail of small hickies behind, marking you for the future. So you can look back and see that you are marked by him. He would engrave his name into you if he could.
Standing up he pushes you down upon the small couch in his studio, cock throbbing hard against his pants, gripping his bulge to relieve some of the pressure. He wanted to carve this moment into his head forever, just like all the other moments spent with you. You had to be more than soulmates, you had to be made for him. Your eyes glaze over, a shine in them that even brings the sun to shame.
“You have me Hongjoong, you will always have me, for as long as you want me.” You breathe out. Voice far from sultry, but in his ears you spoke like sex each time.
“I want you forever, I want you now, I want you in the next life.” He breathes out, voice thick with need. His emotions were crashing quickly. His heart taking over as the pilot.
Freeing his cock from his pants, he’s dripping pre cum, the tip a vibrant red, almost as pretty as his lip color. His eyes scream predator yet lover intertwined. You lock eyes with Hongjoong, slowly pulling your panties off of your lower half, wanting to make sure he knows that you are all for him no matter what life time it is. It’ll always be Kim Hongjoong.
Usually he would give you more foreplay but today he couldn’t, he couldn’t bear the thought of being not in you. He needed this, just like he needed you.
Easing himself into you, letting you get used to the stretch. Your head falls back instantly, eyes fluttering shut. Everytime was like the first time. God, he was a love sick man. His hands gripping your hips, fingers more then likely to leave marks. Drawing his hips back, he slams back with a powerful deep thrust, savoring the way your back arches, you instantly cry out.
“I love you so fucking much. I want you all the time, I need you all the time.” He pants out, hips speeding up slightly, drawing his hips back far enough to make sure that you see stars. He was sure to make sure he hit every spot in you. He could be blindfolded, and would still know what spots on you to push.
The way your back arches, the way you are holding his wrist while he’s stroking you to heaven is so much to bear. The emotions are a cracking weight on him. You try your best to look at him through your hooded eyes, pleasure nurturing your body. You wanted him to feel you in this moment, you wanted him to know you were with him within this moment. Your cunt clenches, drawing out a loud moan from him. Trying his best to make sure his eyes remain on you. With each thrust the squelching noises bounce around in the small studio. Even though he was in his studio, the wet noises you were making were music to his ears, a song he could never replicate. His eyes glass over with unshed tears.
“I love you.” He grits out, trying to hold onto his orgasm so you can waltz into bliss first. You grip his wrist tighter to let him know you are there, that you are his.
“I love you even more Joong.” You rasps out through a moan, trying your best to remain coherent but the way he cock is sliding in and out of you it’s nearly impossible.
“I love you so fucking much, I need you all the time.” He grits out, tears now rolling down his face, his hips picking up speed, cock deep in your guts. Your back arches, eyes rolling back into your skull.
“I don’t think you understand how much I truly need you. I can’t breathe if you aren’t next to me. I can’t lead if you aren’t there.” Thrusts getting deeper, you needed to feel him. He was going to make sure you never forgot this moment.
“I can’t survive unless you are with me. I’m so in love with you.” He grips the side of your neck, tossing one of your legs over his forearm, hitting inside of you from a whole different angle. Tilting your head forward, he pushes his forehead against yours, unshed tears spilling onto your skin.
“I’m addicted to you, I don’t think you truly understand how much I’m in love with you. I need you with me just so I can function.” His hand on your neck comes to the sides of your throat, making sure to apply the correct amount of pressure that he knows you like. Your eyes start to water, not sure if it’s from his words or from your orgasm that is quickly approaching. Your toes curl, one leg locking him into place so he couldn’t move, you grab him by the front of his shirt, placing a desperate to his lips before shoving your tongue into his mouth. Pulling back slightly he breathes into you, panting heavily above you, his thrusts becoming sloppy.
“I love you so fuc-fucking much.” He stutters out, orgasm crashing down upon him, his stuttering hips push harshly into yours. Making sure that your walls milk him dry. He pulls back slightly, brushing some of the fallen sweat and tears off of your skin. Adjusting you so that he would slip behind you on the small couch.
Turning you over so your noses brushed, your hand coming to push back some of the sweaty hair that had fallen upon his face. Heavy pants are shared between you both, his hand finds its place on your hip again, brushing your skin as if to make sure you don’t fade away, that you aren’t just a figment of his imagination.
“I’m so addicted to you jagiya, and I don’t think I can stop.” He whispers out onto your lips, before running his tongue along your bottom lip. Savoring your taste on his very own.
“Good…I don’t want you to.” You whisper back on his lips. Smile taking over your face before driving back into his lips. Loving you was a addiction he would never beat.
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A/N: I just want to say thank you to @whatudowhennooneseesyou for requesting this, she wrote such a AMAZING piece like this for Bang Chan called Limerence go give it a read! She wanted me to write something like it for a Ateez member, and she chose Hongjoong which made me dizzy😵‍💫 bc why do I feel like it screams Hongjoong. I hope I was able to do you justice babes😚! Honestly while writing this I listen to Just Pretend by Bad Omens on repeat bc I feel like it fits this perfectly👀👀. I hope all you guys enjoy reading this!
DO NOT REPOST.
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skrrts · 29 days
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stairs & life, up / down (oneshot)
✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, strangers to love interest, comfort, soft emotional ✧ word count: 10,4k ✧ warnings: adult language, smoking (don’t do it!), loneliness, end of friendships, moving on from a relationship, getting over heartbreaks, facing challenges in life, crying
The ripping sound of paper, the clicking of a mechanical keyboard. Loneliness sounds & feels different to everyone but somehow, Hongjoong feels like you understand his. Yet, you confuse him. Why was your first encounter so bold when he hears you crying at night when you think nobody is listening? The fire escape of the old building suddenly becomes a place of comfort he didn’t expect to find in the loneliest city, filled with millions of people but now, there is you.
a/n: when i think of summer, i think of spending long nights outdoors because it's still warm and you just talk for hours without worrying about whatever happens tomorrow. hongjoong & mc both went through some hardships with different types of relationships but they are where they want to move on, all they needed was a hand to grab them and help them going forward. thanks for reading 🤎
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The sound of paper being torn apart was often how Hongjoong would describe what his own heartbeak felt like and maybe, if it wasn’t already in pieces, it would be now. Fifty hours of passion, sleepless nights, and love torn apart, a woman with an unpleasant face hissing when she dropped his art like it was a random document.
“There was no reason to destroy it just because you did not like it,” he finally stated and received glares for daring to speak up. “It was garbage, what exactly did you plan to do with it? In fact, every artwork you have shown me in the past few months has been just that. What was the point in hiring you when your social media works were all fake?!”
Hongjoong wanted to wince but somehow managed to keep it together, being called deceitful as an artist who had given up so much for his art was hard.
“My style is exactly the same as the work you saw when you contacted me and I work the exact same way,” he bit his lip when she stood up and seemed more interested in answering her phone which was constantly buzzing in her overpriced pouch. People of her rank often held no passion at all, they only faked it for the smiles and the press.
”You have another month, if you cannot come up with the proper concept, you are out and of course, we cut your payment in half again. After all, since you came here five months ago, you did not deliver anything we could work with. That’s all.”
Hongjoong was about to demonstrate but the director of the publishing agency just left him standing there. 
He never wanted to come to New York, he could not care less about the city everyone wanted to live in but there had been nothing left for him back home. When he found the girl he loved and dated since high school being with another, the one he had given his whole heart to so foolishly, telling him it was a pity that kept them together for so long because just like so many other people around him, she judged him for his passion and his income rather than his values and happiness. Sure, he could survive from what he was doing but in their eyes, it was not worth to be called living. She dreamt of a house with a pool, a nice car, and an expensive beach vacation, rather than a cozy apartment, taking the bus and weekend trips.
On that day, when he was crying and walking through his hometown without direction, his parents said that it was time to finally grow up and work for a mindless ad agency that would gladly take somebody with his talent rather than chase his dreams of being permitted to illustrate an entire children's book, one with a deeper meaning unlike all the projects he was part of so far, where he often designed characters but based on guidelines rather than freely.
The invitation of a publisher seemed to be a wink of fate but now, Hongjoong simply found himself trapped in a city of millions, yet never having been more alone. 
Maybe he always had been, considering how blind love made him, believing to hold the love of a woman who cheated on him for who knows how long, likely even making use of his nights of working and being home late.
He had been such a fool.
The small ringing of a bell announced his arrival as he entered the familiar small grocery store which always was the destination at the end of days like today.
One benefit in all of his misery, Hongjoong was used to managing his life with little money, he could live from the shortened salary with some tricking and ignoring cravings. There also had been savings for emergencies, put aside for better times.
“How do you even manage to survive when this is all you eat?” San frowned, pointing at the selection of instant noodles and a few cans as he scanned each one. The store belonged to his family and the student helped out frequently. 
Hongjoong offered him a playful little grin: “Magic, Sannie. Now…”
He bit his cheek and the man knew, frowning: “Another package? You said you meant to quit smoking for good… you rather should get dinner rather than spend it on this shit.”
Painted nails brushed through dark wavy hair as he shrugged: “I’m an artist, we need to have some kind of weakness, yes? Unless I suddenly find a muse and that one makes me go insane.”
He knew the other meant well as he sighed but added a package into the plastic bag, handing it to him. “Just look out for yourself.”
Hongjoong smiled at the younger: “I always do. See ya.” The guy did not need to know what he was going through, maybe Hongjoong himself was still trying to understand just that.
It was easy to smile for everyone, he had become an expert in that field. Maybe he should join those TikTokers who made seminars out of canvas pages about something that barely was a secret but called it ‘Guide to Happiness’.
At least, he was about to be home, his haven. Hongjoong had been thrilled when he found the under-the-roof apartment because there was no AC and the building was rundown, the rent was cheap but he loved it because he easily managed to access the roof, there was nothing more beautiful than allowing himself to sulk in loneliness while watching the never sleeping city.
It was almost poetic, wasn’t it?
There also used to be the benefit of being the only one who did not put some shutters on the window which was the entrance to the fire stairs. The view was ugly, but it was handy to simply take the stairs and get right up.
Well, it used to be because the new tenant who moved into the apartment right underneath him did not seem to share the sentiment of the others, the window was always wide open and it would be creepy if he would rush past it.
He lurked up but Hongjoong noticed immediately how it was open again and he sighed, muttering to himself as he made the way up to the longer stairs. Too many. He dodged a few abandoned shoes of children in front of one, a growling dog at the third, and survived!
“I am home.” 
When he unlocked the door, silence greeted him. There no longer was anyone who rushed over to smile and welcome him back but now, he was not even sure if that ever happened or merely being an imagination, an altered memory. 
His apartment was small but that was okay, he didn’t need a living room and only having a tiny shower made being short less tragic.
While Hongjoong lived up to the cliche of being a poor artist, at least he did not need too much space.
His gaze went over the sketches still scattered over the kitchen table, picking one up: “Guess, you aren’t it either, sorry.” Unlike that awful woman, he carefully formed a small pile and put it in a paper tray for all his rejected designs, so far it had been every single one he offered to them. 
Maybe it was time to give up…
No, this was not the time to cry and get sad! Urgh, hard enough to admit he had been such a crybaby when moving here, the way how his heart ached and he was lost among strangers. It was when he started smoking again, something he stopped years ago but now.
There was nobody who would complain about the smell.
Hongjoong slipped into the shower, running water always helped to wash away thoughts, he just imagined it as he carefully cleaned every inch before enjoying the feeling of a fresh pair of clothes and ruffling his hair with a towel. 
“Attempt number seven it is,” he sat down, pulling over his tablet when a loud ringing sound interrupted the early hours of the night, enough to make him jump.
“The fuck?!” Hongjoong blinked, looking around but he was sure he didn’t even own an old-fashioned alarm clock. As the sound wouldn’t stop, he rushed to the window, lurking out only to realize it must be coming from your place. Why would you have an alarm clock going off at nine?!
Nobody else seemed to be interrupted by it but Hongjoong and he was working best at night. As nothing happened, he figured you probably just forgot to turn it off before leaving, how reckless to leave your window open in New York!
There was clear hesitation before he climbed out of his window, taking down the stairs: “Screw this…”
Your window was wide open, the curtains softly floating outside, all lights on. Your place was just a little bigger than his but you surely put more effort in! The walls were painted in a comfortable olive green, plants matched perfectly with the white furniture and there was a large gaming setup he did not really expect but then, what did he know about you? The bed was covered with far too many pillows but there it was, the one causing so much trouble.
The alarm clock had the shape of a flower, it was cute and he wondered how somebody who liked such a style would move to this part of the city…
“What do I do?” Hongjoong looked around. He counted to one hundred. There was nobody in sight, the sound drove him insane and he did not want you to get back home just to find your expensive equipment stolen. The world was an asshole to him but he intended to be better.
He swallowed and slipped inside your home, quick steps leading to the damn noisy item to turn it off. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and you walked inside, holding likely a few bottles of soap you just switched out, your gazes met and he could see how your face turned red, just like his own, and the next second, there was a small scream and you started to throw shampoo bottles at him.
Hongjoong tried to dodge them, dropping the alarm clock in the attempt and grabbed one of your pillows to protect himself.
“Hold on! Stop throwing things at me”, he called out but now you seemed angry.
“Why would I do this?! You just broke into my apartment! A thief? Gosh, you are one of those perverts, aren’t you?” You were one burst of energy, he had to give you that. Hongjoong was about to say something when he fell backward over another pillow.
His hands lifted up into the air, praying you’d not murder him with hair conditioner: “Hold on, hold on. I live above you! Your alarm wouldn’t stop and I thought you left so I meant to close the window, lots of robberies in this neighborhood!”
While your face remained distrustful, you held your movement in the middle of the air, frowning, doubting.
“Which neighbor breaks into a place to turn off an alarm bell?” you questioned and that was a good question. Who would have done that? 
“Well, I actually work at night, I need a little bit of silence but how am I supposed to do this with that noise?” he pointed at the alarm once more and this time, you considered his words.
“Fine, let’s say it is the truth. It’s still weird, you could have used the staircase and just knocked on the door like any other angry neighbor would.”
That was… a very good point. 
“I should have done that,” he admitted and slowly stood again. You were looking at him, maybe considering how he barely looked like a threat, considering he was wearing pajama pants and a hoodie with a washed-out brand name.
“Alright, I will forget about it. Now get out!” you pointed towards the window and Hongjoong found himself blushing in embarrassment. he clapped his hands, bowing slightly: “I promise to knock next time.”
As you hurried over, you wondered if he had seen right and there was a small smile on your lips as he carefully slipped out. As he turned around on the fire escape, you closed the window, and your gazes met for a moment, he was giving you a tiny wave before you rolled your eyes and closed your curtains.
Hongjoong stood there, blinking for a moment until he sighed and made his way upstairs, just to be greeted with the wind likely having shut his own, forcing him to go all the way down like that and up to his apartment. Thankfully he didn’t lock the door yet when he came home earlier.
“Tch, such a reckless neighbor,” he smiled.
“Oh? Oh! This is new!” Wooyoung fished the box with flower-shaped chocolate out of the paper bag. Hongjoong made a face, trying to snatch it but the younger grinned, holding it up.
“They are also kind of expensive, do you have a crush?” It took some effort but eventually, he stole his box bag and gave it to San who was scanning them.
“I am not in love, I just kind of pissed off one of my neighbors and now I intend to make it up somehow since they live in the apartment right underneath me,” he put quite a bit of effort in leaving out as many details as possible because Wooyoung would be curious enough to just knock on your window to see himself.
“Right, you said somebody moved into the empty apartment? Took some time, you mentioned that it was already without a tenant when you moved in.”
He appreciated the cashier was offering some distraction to his best friend’s consideration of just going with Hongjoong, he did not need to say it out loud for the older to guess as much.
“Ah yeah, the landlord was surprised when he offered that one but I asked about the rooftop apartment instead. I just like the peace and quiet, nobody above me, all that,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his neck.
“The Lone artist above the rooftops of New York City, romantic if you asked me,” Wooyoung winked and grabbed his backpack. “Anyway, time for training, call you later San!” He waved and rushed off, the other just smiled before handing the grocery bag to Hongjoong.
“I am sure the person knows to appreciate it, this is the first time I have seen you try and … well, mention to interact with anyone outside of this store.” 
Hongjoong tried his best not to swallow hard. While San only was having a casual conversation, he called out something that the artist had tried to avoid admitting: he had dodged everyone and everything ever since coming here.
The hurt was still too deep, the way the person closest to him, he smiled at and kissed every day, threw him away like trash and everyone else saying he should understand how it certainly wasn’t an easy life rather than taking his side
or just offer comfort.
He could have used a hug.
Now, it was hard to let anyone in. San and Wooyoung were nice but they just were two guys working at a grocery store that was conveniently close to his apartment, as kind as they seemed. 
“I just really like living here, sure, the neighborhood’s a bit … tense at times but otherwise, the rent is really cheap and the place is great to work at, not much noise considering we are in a city of this size.” 
San was looking at you, it was hard to tell if he took it or simply decided to keep his thoughts to himself but he smiled: “Well, just make sure to also enjoy the city, not only busy yourself with work. I know, artists are said to do that but yeah.”
It was as if he wanted to say more but Hongjoong already waved in tiny, grabbing his bag: “Speaking of that, I have a deadline so I better be going. Thanks again.”
Hongjoong was out the moment after, he could not hear San’s deep sigh when the bell rang once more.
He spent a good amount of time drawing a little doodle that looked like your alarm clock, looking upset and cursing about that weird guy in a little thought bubble. Next to it, Hongjoong wrote, "Sorry for having broken into your place, heard this chocolate is great." He was pleased with the result and carefully stepped outside his window, placing the little delivery right by your window, knocking against the glass, and he rushed upstairs, jumping into his own home as he waited for the noise of you opening.
His heart was beating loudly when he lurked around the corner, hearing you sigh but in a pleasant way. He did not dare to fully look, biting your lip but after a very long minute, he could hear your voice: "Just knock next time you want to say hello."
Your laugh was so soft and cute.
He grinned when the window was shut a moment later and the chocolate was gone.
Hongjoong had a talent for forgetting about time when he was working and it was less about the deadline and more so about his passion. He always loved to draw, it had been his escape from a young age and he pushed through it, no matter the concerns of everyone around him. He never wanted to be rich, just do what he loved and make enough to be able to live from it.
In a way he did, his old apartment was small but nice with a lovely view and enough space for two. Looking back, he had been a fool how he thought that his ex would enjoy it, that she liked they took their time and both added to a dream of a larger home. The series he illustrated with a few other artists for a children's magazine was doing well then, he knew it was one of the favorites in consideration of being further produced with another spin-off when it happened, Hongjoong quit.
Just like most, he also worked digitally but when he was in the early stages, he often liked to reach out for old-fashioned paper, getting a few sketches done. It was when his pencil rolled from the table that he pulled the chunky headphones from his ears to pick it up when he heard it for the first time.
It was a quiet sob, the kind where you hated yourself and just wanted to stop but your body was boycotting you, ignoring your quiet pleas for it to stop. Hongjoong had done the same for a while after coming to New York but somehow, yours hit him more than he expected. The way you faced him when he came in, the conversation after.
He should know better than assuming you were a confident person just doing your thing.
His slim figure pressed against the wall next to the open window when he listened to how you cried.
It was strange, when the heart ached, even a city like this could fall in utter silence, making one feel even more alone. He bit his lip, it was hard to listen to it and when he finally convinced himself that checking on you was more important than his fear of interrupting, the small clicking sound to pull his window fully open seemed to be enough to chase you inside like a bird fleeing from busy human steps.
All Hongjoong managed to see was the way how your lights turned off and for a moment, he wondered if you maybe prayed that he did not come down to see, that the weird guy above you just opened his window to let him some refreshing air in at the end of Summer.
He was trying to recall all of those nights after you moved in, where he kept his window open and so did you. What did he hear then? There had been that clicking sound, he could hear it any time he ended up sneaking up to the roof to smoke a cigarette. He never put much thought into it but now, you always seemed to be typing on your keyboard and you were home all the time, just like he was.
When he returned from groceries, your lights were on, and when he lurked outside in the morning, the window open.
In a movie, he probably would have thought more about it and told himself to see if it would happen again. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe you were just going through a hard breakup.
Just.
Maybe, if anyone had been more gentle with Hongjoong, he'd not have felt the need to move far away in a desperate attempt of moving on.
No, things would have been different if people would have acted and wasted less time guessing.
"Screw this," he cursed and walked over to the mirror. He was trying to fix his hair but it was a mess so he grabbed a hoodie and put on some summer shorts, cigarettes shoved inside of his pockets, two bottles of soda in each hand.
If you thought he was insane after this, he could live with it, really. He preferred it above having to regret wondering what happened tonight.
Hongjoong took two stairs at once until he was in front of your windows, curtains closed and while it was dark, he could see a small gleam of light, likely from your phone. He took a deep breath before knocking again.
"Hi there, it's me. Again... Uh I am Hongjoong! I know I am probably starting to get annoying, and if you decide to not answer, please just do not call the police.... I was just thinking, maybe you want to have a soda with me? I can't slepe either, I tend to work through the night.
He rambled because this was how he found comfort, he did not need to hear specific words, just little affirmation, a gesture of love. It could be something silly.
When you did not answer, he bit his lip and looked around: "Uh, I will sit down here and smoke one cigarette. If you decide not to come when it's done, I promise I go back up. I'll leave you one bottle there."
He called, placed it down carefully, and moved over to the stairs, taking a few up before sitting down, opening his own drink before lightening the cigarette.
He was exhaling only for the first time when the window opened: "You know, smoking is super unhealthy?"
Your voice did not indicate that you were crying but he could see your eyes still being red and puffy. Hongjoong looked at you like you were amazing just like that.
"You are right, I admit, I only picked the habit up recently again."
He blinked surprised when you grabbed the bottle and sat down by his side, just to take the cigarette away and inhale the smoke. He was blushing, not having expected such a bold move after you cried.
"Guess, we can make it a bad habit just for tonight then," you breathed and used the stairs to open the bottle, drinking it more like it was a party drink rather than ordinary soda, offering the cigarette back.
Hongjoong was in awe, he did not assume you would be so outgoing, although he had no doubt you were brave considering the way you two encountered face to face for the first time. The thought let him grin a little: "Sounds good to me."
His gaze wandered back over the not-that-pretty view: "The sight from the roof is pretty amazing, not sure if you maybe want to have a look another night. I can show you how to get up there."
You laughed, relaxing back: "Why am I not surprised you went up there?"
The man looked innocently: "Well, I have a lot of time to think when I am settling for a design."
The word seemed to gain your interest and you leaned in: "You work at night and that doodle was really cute. Is it something artistic you are doing for a living?" The question was fair and straightforward, leading him to shrug just a little. Most people were disappointed about the answer, somehow it did not seem to be a popular idea when it came to art.
"I work as an illustrator for children's books or that is the preferred one, I also do magazines or commercial designs for such. As for books, I do both, the traditional ones for young kids where the images carry most of the story but I also occasionally take scenes from books for older audiences, you know, mainly those right before young adults where you find little images between the chapters? Mh, I dream to make one exactly in the design I want but for now, I am stuck to work with criteria set by the publishers."
Hongjoong learned to explain what he was doing right away because when it came to illustrations, people often thought about the really expensive artworks connected to infamous titles. You did not really seem to bother with the clichés, instead, your face was so bright and excited, that he was feeling shy.
"That's so cool? I only got into reading because of those kinds of books. I mean, I get it, you are supposed to go wild with your imagination when it comes to reading but I always preferred those pages that told me what to expect but that makes sense, I'm a number person. I like facts."
Numbers, huh.
"This is the very infamous part where I offer to you that if you ever want to see something, knock on my window any time or well, I guess. You have all the right to just walk in through my window. I am awful and my phone is my alarm clock tho," he teased with a more confident grin and you returned it gladly.
"I will keep it in mind, Hongjoong." You stretched.
"It's getting late and you wasted your cigarette, I will take that as a sign to withdraw," you smiled and picked up your bottle, standing. The artist was a little disappointed but it was fair, he knew it had been far after midnight when he heard you crying but now, he was happy to see you relaxed.
"Maybe I will come back to your offer," you hummed and walked down to your window. "Oh, by the way, I am __ and don't be too disappointed, I am a software engineer. That is also why I am home all the time, the bliss of being able to dodge offices but I feel, that you know well."
As you slipped inside, you were about to close the window before lurking out again: "The chocolate was tasty, thank you."
As the window shut, Hongjoong stood there, smiling to himself.
He didn't remember ever having felt as tense in the past when handing in drafts. His old publisher had been a guy in his early 60s and even in the early stages of Hongjoong's 'career', supporting them to test their own ideas within the limits of the work. Something about getting a poor payment but at least, being able to do their thing.
There was yet a small voice of hope, one that told him this piece of paper would not be torn apart because the woman was looking at it far longer than she had at any other of his earlier designs. After hanging out with you, Hongjoong had worked nonstop, a new adrenaline rush that helped him get done with it.
Finally, he exhaled when she leaned back, placing it on the desk: "Finally, something we can work at. I approve of the cats, I expect a more detailed version at the end of the week. The dogs are too ... basic. There is just nothing memorable about them, I want two pairs of options for them. That would be all, Mister Kim."
Hongjoong could live with that! The cats were the story's main protagonists about a pair of cat siblings moving with their owners to a new city and dealing with all of the changes. Yeah, maybe it did not seem like a deep story, just another book to offer comfort to kids moving but the name on both, the writer and label were big... opening doors. What else did he have left than his career and maybe, the nagging desire to show everyone how he could do it?
I would rather be happy tho, and loved.
He only gave her a quick nod as she seemed busy again, slipping out of the office. "Why is this such a pain...." he mumbled and checked his phone. Would it be weird or too early to ask you for your number? Hongjoong hadn't given it to anyone, well except San because he got permission to use the convenience store as a secondary address, should packages fail to be delivered to his door.
Hongjoong could not deny that he was tempted to look you up online but he did not log into any of his accounts since coming to New York. If anything... he did not even tell anyone. He just sold everything, quit his job, and moved. The only person who knew was his older brother, who had been supportive unlike the rest of the family but accepted his wish to remain hidden for some time.
"Honjgoong!"
Hearing his name out in the open made him wince and he blushed when he noticed it was you who called out for him. You were smiling, waving confidently, ignoring gazes. Maybe you really just had a tough day last night. It was so hard to imagine you being somebody who cried a lot.
"Seeing you out in the wild, I am scared," he teased with a grin, walking to your side. You pointed at the heavy bags with groceries, making him realize what you wanted.
"I see how it is, somebody asking me to make the stairs my workout," he chuckled as you looked innocently. "How about, we call it quits then, for good? And in return, you can use the fire escape as often as you want, no worries. You did start to avoid doing that because of me, didn't you?"
He was surprised by the question: "Uh... how do you know about that?"
You laughed and it was sweet, he preferred seeing you happy: "Well, when I signed the contract, the owner told me the guy above likes to take them so he advised me to put something in front of the window but then, nobody ever came."
It was your way to tell him you appreciated he tried to think of your comfort, wasn't it?
"If you are sure, I rather like walking them. I got one of those window locks, I found them on a website and they are really handy. I just prefer it because the dog from the lady on the third floor, he hates me," he admitted.
It seemed to amuse you: "Not surprised, you remind me of a cat or maybe more of a fox? Mh, I love them equally, pick the one you prefer." You rushed ahead while he took the bags, rubbing a hand over his face. Ah, it was a talent of yours, wasn't it? Making him blush.
Thankfully, it wasn't too far from the building and Hongjoong got up all the bags in no time.
"Do you want to come in?" your offer showed a hint of hesitation and Hongjoong was overworrying again. Would it be strange to accept it? Was he too keen on showing how he really would like it?
"Sure, I have some time until nightfall. I have to update some of the designs, they finally accepted two of them," he made sure not to stare, not only to be polite but he already had seen your apartment when he broke in last time.
You opened the fridge and offered him a bottle of cool water, one he gladly accepted. "You said, you do like computer things... Don't mind me, I do not know a whole lot about it. I admit, when I was here last time, I thought you might be a gamer."
His Ex used to watch Twitch streams, something about finding them relaxing.
He regretted the question the instant he asked because of how your expressions slipped.
"Ah, you could say I used to enjoy gaming? It was something I did with a ... former friend." The way you reacted hinted likely it must have been a really good friend, or why else would you look so hurt about saying such a thing` Friendships ended so often, yet this one must have meant a lot to you.
Hongjoong tried not to read too much into your expressions, he did not know you well enough to have a right of doing so, likely just misreading it.
"I am sorry to hear. My friends and family weren't always so keen on my obsession with working for book illustrations either. I would not say they meant to tell me to instead work a proper job but they thought, I should just work for some big company that needs them for ads and such but that is just so soulless, you know?"
His confession was too honest but he felt comfortable with you, sharing it. Maybe it really was because you were strangers and you did not know him or his past, you wouldn't judge him based on that.
He prayed you'd not. You seemed to think about it before saying with the kindest smile: "Following your dreams is important, Hongjoong. I get that, families always mean well but sometimes, we have to figure things out on our own."
He was too nervous to offer a good answer.
"Anyway!" the quick smile was forced but he accepted it. "You said, you know how to get up on the roof? I was thinking, we could do it tonight? It sounds silly but there will be a star shower... I do not think we can see it in a city like this but we can pretend to! I shopped for some snacks, we can make it our own little event."
Hongjoong blinked, eyes big when you invited him: "Oh! Sure! I can make some time, just knock on my window!" He did not have the time based on the deadline... but he would get it done for you! Sounded like time to fight the habit of sleeping in and work during sunlight hours for a change.
"Awesome, I'm excited then!"
There was not too much else to be said it seemed, your thoughts clearly elsewhere, and Hongjoong could only guess it was because of your friend.
The illustrator spent an hour trying to pick an outfit. Tanktop, skinny jeans, some jewelry, he even picked a barret he hadn't worn in ages but it seemed the best way to deal with his hair, even his nails were repainted before he climbed up and prepared a small cozy corner, a blanket, two pillows and a few LED candles.
By the time you knocked on his window, he was almost terrified he made it look too much like a date but then, he looked at you and it seemed, you had a similar mindset. You looked stunning, and the backpack hinted you got more than a few snacks.
"You look amazing," Hongjoong complimented, he liked your style. "Sush, you sure you aren't a model and just failed to tell me?" You brought up the cliche line but it made him laugh: "Well, I tried."
As he joined you, he led you up the stairs which ended abruptly. "If you pull here, there is actually a hidden ladder," he explained and showed it to you. "Very handy, and you can simply pull it up from up there so nobody sees it."
You seemed amazed just how simple it was and carefully climbed up first.
"Oh Hongjoong, this is so pretty!" you gasped, looking at his little setup. The sun vanished just a little while ago and the candles created a nice atmosphere.
"Well, how often does one get invited to star gazing at my age? I thought it would be nice," he explained, chewing his lip as he helped you take off the backpack.
"Well, I guess it is good then I brought an entire picnic!" Indeed, you did but it wasn't just snacks, you prepared the meal obviously yourself and it made him wonder. Did anyone other than his mother ever do this for him?
"This looks delicious!" he clapped his hands together, looking over it.
"Mh, I cannot promise the taste can live up to the looks because it has been a while since I made most of these dishes," you admitted and offered him a pair of chopsticks but he shook his head: "It already smells great, and nothing can betray that."
You seemed to enjoy how expressive Hongjoong was in showing just how much he loved your cooking. His face did not manage to hide it but it was to no surprise, not only because it was tasty but because he had been living off ramyun for the past couple of months due to his cut salary.
"This is so good, I will vote for you as home cook of the year," he mumbled between trying to chew and swallowing.
"Hongjoong, are you sure you ate in the past month or two? You are eating like you were about to starve," you smiled but there was a little concern in your voice as you ate slowly.
The artist carefully placed his chopsticks aside, contemplating if it was okay to be so honest but since he already shared quite a bit with you, it seemed fair.
"To be honest, I came here a little unplanned. I got this really amazing deal or it sounded like that but the publisher CEO lady has rejected all of my designs of the past few months and they cut my salary in half every time. I get around with some savings but food wasn't on top of my priority list."
Now you did seem concerned and sighed: "You know what? She is stupid! I looked up your work and it's so cute? I mean it! I know nothing about that business branch but I like it, they are cute and as a kid, I'd have loved them but also... I used to share a place with somebody and I have a hard time getting rid of the habit of cooking more than I need. How about you come over here and then, and pick up the rest? I hate to throw away so much."
Did you look him up? Oh, that was unexpected. Hongjoong was just looking at you in awe and you seemed a little confused by it.
"You do not have to, of course!" It seemed you both were good at misreading.
He hurried to wave his hands: "Oh no! I'd love that! I just... was a little shy when you looked it up. I appreciate it. If you ever need a doodle or like ... anything drawn, let me know. I like doing it for people."
As he looked at you somehow, it felt like you two were the same. Something happened which brought you here, leaving behind a very different life but now that you sat in front of him like that, Hongjoong was so grateful and he tried to place the meaning of his heart beating just a little too enthusiastically right now.
"You know, when I was in high school, I was befriended with this really amazing guy, Hwa. He moved away with his parents before graduation but after exams, when we both knew we screwed up really badly. He would drag me up to the rooftop of our school and play silly songs from the early 2000s we danced to. I know that sounds insane but how about... we do that?"
Hongjoong didn't think about Seonghwa in a long time. He tried to find him online a few years ago but it seemed the older did not think too much about social media either.
"You want to dance?" you chuckled and checked your phone: "Well, I'd say we have another hour until the promised star shower so let's do it. You will have to provide the music tho, I forgot to close my Spotify on my computer."
Hongjoong grinned: "No worries, I got us."
It was funny but he remembered the song and there was an entire playlist dedicated to the vibe he wanted to go for. Relaxed and soft, a little silly but not embarrassing. He ensured the volume wouldn't cause too much attention but you did not seem to care at all.
When the melody and the lyrics began you just let go. Hongjoong swallowed as he watched you and for the first time in a long time, suddenly he was feeling... excited? It was different from a grand job offer or moving, it was more like that telling himself life would go on actually was real. That good things still would happen if he just kept on going.
"What are you waiting for? Don't tell me you are getting shy now," you moved closer to him, taking his hands without hesitation before starting to dance together. The shuffle was doing a good job because it went from energetic, leading to the two of you just silly jumping and vibing to something a little slower and before he knew it, his arms were curled around your figure and you rested your head against his shoulder as you moved with the music.
"This is nice," you whispered, your gaze seemed to be far off in the distance. "I forgot how nice it can be just like that." You sighed deeply without saying anything else but Hongjoong quietly agreed as his hug tightened a little. "It really is."
It was only when your phone started to ring and you withdrew that he was a little disappointed. "Okay, time for the stars!" you smiled, looking around before glancing back at the blanket. "Let's do it like we are in the countryside!"
Without hesitation, you grabbed a pillow and laid down, looking up to the sky which was just dark, the light of electricity stealing the beauty of the night. Hongjoong laid down next to you, looking up.
"Isn't this the most beautiful night sky you have ever seen?" you gasped, pointing towards nothing: "There they are! Okay, time to make your wish but remember, you can't tell anyone!"
You were so bright and outgoing, Hongjoong envied you but also quietly was thankful how you tickled this out of him again. Even before his breakup, he had been so busy struggling with work and expectations, when did he act so carefree for the last time?
"Working on the wish," he whispered and closed his eyes.
His wish for life never changed: be happy, together with people who truly loved and cherished him and he'd do the same for them.
He winced when he felt your cool hand reaching out, squeezing him and his head turned around, the beret slipped from his hair as your gazes locked. There was another moment of hesitation but you rolled onto your side, your eyes saying what words did not manage but they did not need to as you slowly closed them. Hongjoong's hand was placed on your cheek and you met in the middle into a tender kiss.
It was nothing breathtaking like in the movies, much more a kiss between students who never kissed before but yet, were so lost in the moment that they didn't worry. It only lasted for a little before your lips parted: "Guess, my wish already came true just now."
Hongjoong blushed, he wanted to say more but there was a small quacking sound. The two of you sat up immediately.
"Did you hear that?" you whispered. Hongjoong nodded: "Nobody ever comes up here and I come here almost every day since I moved in." You exchanged a few gazes before carefully standing up, following him closely, hiding behind the chimney.
Suddenly, a large figure dressed all in black jumped up like a ninja in a movie. You gasped but Hongjoong just blinked.
"Wooyoung?!"
"Wooyoung?"
"Wooyoung!"
San's figure showed up right behind his best friend, who was tugging on his jacket, clearly catching his breath. "I told you not to do this!" The younger man was just grinning: "But I had to make sure I left an impression!"
You chuckled as Hongjoong pointed to you that it was okay.
"I take it those are your friends?"
The word made Hongjoong blink. He saw these two idiots almost on a daily base now, he talked to them and while he never shared any personal details, they never treated him like other customers or a stranger.
He really did a great job on distancing, didn't he? Considering he claimed to have nobody but just made friends without realizing it.
"Something like that," Hongjoong said with a quick smile but Wooyoung already pulled him closer, pressing his cheek against his. "Sh, he is just shy! We are the best buddies!"
Hongjoong yelped and now was sparring with Wooyoung while San rubbed a hand over the back of his neck: "Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt your date. Wooyoung has a hard time keeping his curiosity in check."
You hummed, knowing Hongjoong didn't hear it. Maybe it was for the better.
"That's okay. Actually, that's what I like about him. He's chaotic, just like me."
You clasped your hands together, cheering. "So Wooyoung! We got some food left, are you hungry?"
The younger stopped, grinning: "Always!"
Hongjoong groaned when he was woken up by loud noises coming from the staircase. He rolled onto his side, face lit up by his phone screen. It wasn't even seven but for some reason, it seemed neighbors decided to make a fuss. There was screaming, he was sure about that.
He grabbed a pair of sneakers, not caring too much about all else and decided to have a look because it seemed a little too loud considering you and an elderly woman lived the floor underneath.
The moment he recognized your voice, Hongjoong stopped all logical thinking, he took two stairs at once to face a very upstyled woman around his age. Expensive brands and overdone makeup, there was an envelope open, torn paper on the ground, and you were all in tears.
"What's going on?!" Hongjoong rushed to your side but you barely seemed to recognize him.
"How did you even find out where I live?! I won't sign this just go!" you yelled and it seemed to make the woman just more angry.
"___, stop being so stubborn! Just sign the damn rights! You are not part of the team anymore, you have no use for the brand name! Just sign it and we never have to meet again!"
By now, more neighbors had come and the least Hongjoong wanted for you was to deal with the police.
"Hey, get in. I will take care of it," he whispered to you, both of his hands on your cheeks to force you to look at him through teary eyes. It was when you finally realized you weren't alone, you swallowed hard, nodded but carefully withdrew. When the woman tried to get in, Hongjoong pushed her back.
"If you do not leave now, we will call the police! If you have any needs, use a lawyer!" he remembered how his mother watched those shows when he was little, they always just yelled about lawyers.
"Who are you? Loverboy? God, how can one person fall so low? Living in this shithole and now this?" she hissed, spitting on the ground before leaving. Hongjoong waited to ensure she'd not get back up before he slipped inside, closing your door.
You had curled up on your bed and he was a little overwhelmed but it did not matter. Hongjoong called out your name gently as he sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure you knew he was there, maybe his way of asking for permission.
When you did not move, he curled his arms around you to pull you tight like back on the rooftop, hand gently patting over your back. He wasn't going to tell you it would be okay or ask you to stop crying because he knew that sometimes, mind or body did not want to, couldn't.
All one needed sometimes, was a hug and somebody there with you.
It was hard to say just how much time passed when you turned around slowly. Hongjoong loosened the hug a little without moving back and you looked at him.
"You do not have to tell me anything," he assured in his soft voice but you shook your head slowly. "I want to... it just... it's embarrassing."
This time, it was he who shook his head: "Nothing that makes you feel sad ever is embarrassing, ___. Your feelings matter, you know?"
He was relieved to see it brought a little smile to your lips.
"You know, that also is true for you. If you are sad... it's okay. I understand it. Please don't feel like you have to hide it."
So you did look right through him after all: "You got me there... It is hard to admit weakness... I guess, for me at least. I was hurt by the people I cared for the most. Now, it is hard, like how to let them in again, how to trust?"
Your fingers gently reached out, brushing over his cheeks and he held still like if he moved, you might vanish into thin air.
"I get that," you admitted. "You see, that woman used to be my best friend since middle school. A few years ago, we started to stream together for fun. I made good money with my job, so I bought the equipment and I really was okay playing more of a background role. We worked on it together but she was the star, I didn't mind she also streamed a lot without me but then, numbers rose and there was a sponsorship she did not tell me about. One day, I got home from my office, and all the equipment was gone, together with my best friend. I was locked out of the accounts, the savings I kept at home for emergencies were stolen, and well. She spread some nasty rumors about how I was jealous and things got ugly... So I moved here. It is hard, your best friend is usually the person you rely on for comfort when something awful happens but now, there was nobody and I am stupid, the type of person that fully believes in a friendship."
It was sad, to think how money always ruined everything, love and friendship. Hongjoong watched you as you spoke, going more into the details and he made sure to listen well, to show you that he didn't only do it because you two kissed or because of you crying. He really cared about you and wanted to understand you better so he did not have to fear again, that imagine of you alone on the fire escape.
"There is nothing awkward or embarrassing about your feelings. You trusted and lost her. You tried your best to start over, leave it behind but she cannot let it be for selfish reasons," Hongjoong concluded and you finally relaxed.
"Thank you for listening.... that really helped," you whispered. "I... if you ever want to..."
Hongjoong wondered for a moment. Did he want to talk about it?
Yes, but...
"Honestly, I am not sure if I am really ready yet to talk about it but one day... I will," he promised and placed a gentle kiss on top of your head.
"How about I make you some tea?" he offered with a smile as you looked at him, you nodded and you two slowly sat up. Hongjoong was very determined to wrap you properly in a blanket burrito, ruffling your hair gently before moving over to your kitchen. He could feel your eyes on him as he moved but he did not mind it.
A few minutes later, he handed you a cup of yasmin tea and you hugged it carefully, sipping on it.
"You make a very cute blanket cat," he teased, hoping to cheer you up. "Maybe one day, you will let me draw you like that." And finally, there it was, your beautiful laugh. "I will think about it."
Hongjoong sat down by your side, he turned on the TV and you relaxed against him as you watched a random show just to get your mind off and sipped your tea. It wasn't until there was a more gentle knock on the door and the familiar voice of the elderly lady.
"I will get it," he offered and rushed over. She seemed a little concerned: "My, so much noise in the early morning. Such an unpleasant woman. I wanted to see if everything is alright but I also noted, that your door is wide open Mister Kim."
His cheeks flushed as he realized, he rushed out earlier without bringing his key or closing it. "OH! Yes, thank you so much," he bowed and it made her chuckle: "You are very welcome. Fear not, Mister Corner on the second floor left his dog outside, I have no doubt nobody will dare to make the way upstairs today."
As she wiggled away, Hongjoong turned around but you smiled. "It is okay, I am feeling better. Thank you for looking out for me. I will see you later?"
He did not want to go but it likely was a good idea to give you some space. "Count on it."
As much as he hated it, he needed to put some time into work if he intended to finish everything within the deadline but now that Hongjoong had a reason to work extra hard, he was doing it no problem and within a few hours, he finished a few sketches. Those would do for angry CEO and he could dedicate his evening toward you.
He was taking his phone from his charger when he noticed a small notification. Hongjoong turned off such with the exception of receiving one when somebody new followed him. To his surprise, the name of his latest follower was 'Hwastar' and there was only one person who would use something like that.
It took him a few minutes to remember his password, he ignored all other messages other than the one of the follow and he followed back. Within a few minutes, a message popped up. It really was Seonghwa and to Hongjoong's surprise, the man was in New York, asking to meet.
When Hongjoong knocked on your door and you did not answer, he guessed you were asleep and he decided to go for it. Seonghwa had picked a cute coffee shop, something that suited him. While he looked the same, he was yet a whole new man. Tall, well-built and stylish, the long hair suited him well but the smile was as gentle as when they saw each other for the last time. "Joong! It's been too long!"
There was a quick hug before they sat down, he was sipping on a drink. "You look good, Joongie!" Hongjoong glanced down, he barely could say he wore anything unique but then, he just really had gotten used to his style. "Not like you who seems to go to fashion week."
Seonghwa blushed a little before waving his hand: "Nah, I work for a small publisher." Hongjoong wasn't surprised to hear it. Seonghwa always loved to read and was great with all kinds of people "That's great! I am glad it worked out for you."
His old friend smiled before to the younger's surprise, he pulled out one of the children's books Hongjoong worked on as part of a team.
"I only recently moved to New York because we moved our office here. When I walked through some bookstores, I came across this one. I am glad to see you still do art... When I went home last time, my mom said you left and nobody really knew where you went."
So he did hear about it, huh?
"Breakups can be ugly, I guess I wanted to start over." Hongjoong finally said what he had not to anyone until now. It was hard to say it out loud because that way, there was no chance to deny it, to hide the truth about the why, and how it had come to this. Maybe because there was this old trust he had for Hwa that made him say it out loud now but it was impossible to hide the bitterness in his voice.
Seonghwa had an understanding, sad smile on his lips: "I know you loved her. You two already dated back then... but Hongjoong... I am also proud you are moving on, and didn't stop."
It really was difficult to let negative emotions take over when Seonghwa looked at him like that. He pulled out his business card: "I know you are currently working with a bigger name but we actually finally expanded to books that require some illustrations and my boss would love to meet you. Why don't you think about it? The offer is there, no expiration, whenever you want."
Hongjoong accepted it with surprise, looking at the cursive font he was sure was inspired by his friend's handwriting.
How did things finally fall in line? Was it because he was ready to let them?
Hongjoong looked up and smiled: "I will definitely call."
When he came back, it had gotten dark. As Hongjoong took the fire escape up, your window was wide open and you sat on the stairs, the wind playing with your hair and you seemed lost in thoughts but the moment you saw him, the way you smiled, he knew.
His heart finally exhaled, it held its breath for so long, scared of what would happen if it let go of all that was and no longer would be.
Now it knew it was okay. Breathing would hurt for a little while but eventually, the beat would fall back in line as it should. Painful memories remained but it would keep beating.
The wisdom wasn't wrong, life went on.
Hongjoong smiled back as you made space for him and he got comfortable, his gaze wandering over the cityscape of New York or the bit you managed to get from here.
"it really is ugly, isn't it? I mean, all we get to see are the lower side of those giant ass buildings;" you joked and he laughed, shaking his head: "No, we do not but we have the rooftop. Not that I mind this."
He closed his eyes: "It really is a great escape, I would say, we need those stairs everywhere in the world."
You hummed: "I agree. Just that we need little stickers on the windows, one that tells us that if the alarm won't go off and the windows open, just throw a shoe or something."
Hongjoong smiled innocently at you: "But how do I get my shoe back then?"
You grinned: "Well, by knocking, of course. Then, I have an excuse to invite you in."
You did not need an excuse, he gladly would come and visit you. As you looked at each other, a certain silence spread, and Hongjoong played with one of his bracelets.
"I got my heart broken very badly," he admitted. "I guess, I was blind? Maybe I just was so in a habit of having it that way, that I did not think it could change? It hurt a lot and I ran like a coward but now, maybe this is just how I am. Sometimes, I do stupid things that turn out to be good but I am also blind like needing forever to realize how I made friends just by being myself or that I can feel again."
As he looked at you, turning around, you suddenly hugged him tightly. "It is okay, you do not have to tell me everything, ever or just take your time. I will be here, whenever you are ready," you whispered and Hongjoong was surprised.
Argh, he hated how tears started to dwell up at the corners of his eyes. This was all he wanted for so long but now, here you were and you were so much more than comfort, the promise of a future where his heart was beating not only to live but love. Again.
"I really like you," he admitted, voice soft and husky. "I like you too," you repeated and for a moment, you just held each other.
Hongjoong looked at you before he swallowed: "I'd like to see where it goes... but I might... need a bit of time before I am ready to go all ..."
You placed an index finger on his lips and smiled: "It's okay. We have all the time in the world. Summer is not over yet, many nights on the rooftops. Then, when autumn comes, we go chase leaves in Central Park, and in Winter, we can wear big fluffy coats and share a scarf. Then Spring, we plant flowers on the rooftop, and when Summer comes again. We will be here, together. Close or as friends, I will be here, count on it."
You really were so dreamy, it made sense now why your room looked the way it did.
And he loved how you were bold and silly and this.
"I cannot promise not to be spontaneous, and I might would like us to be more than friends," he admitted and you smirked: "I love random and wild."
You squeezed his hand and Hongjoong was looking forward to all seasons. In this lonely city full of people but now he had friends, old and new but most of all, you.
As you leaned in to kiss him, your alarm was going off. Hongjoong groaned but you tugged on his jacket.
"Sh, you can throw shampoo at it later," you promised and Hongjoong laughed.
"This alarm, it drives me insane," he whispered, your lips so close.
"So do you."
In the best way possible.
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178 notes · View notes
his-angell · 5 months
Text
like a switch. (j.wy)
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plot; (y/n) suffers from bipolar. She has been in the worst mood recently. She was angry, really angry. She snaps at her boyfriend, not realizing her mistake until he was walking away from her.
paring; fem!reader x non!idol!jungwooyoung (ft. choi san)
genre; angst, comfort
word count; 2.5k
warnings; reader has bipolar, medication mentioned, cursing, yelling, light pushing, crying, guilt, pet names,
request?; no
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She was losing her shit. There was so much going on in her brain that she couldn't gather herself. She had stayed home from work that day, lying to her boss and saying she was sick. She stayed in bed all day, hiding under the blankets. She could feel the anger that bubbled in her chest. She didn't want to blow up. But she swore she was one stupid noise away from completely popping off. It didn't help that her boyfriend was getting home from work soon. That just made her work herself up more when she didn't need to.
It was the beeping of the code being put in that finally pushed her over the edge. Because it wasn't just four beeps, it was four, then the rapid beeping signaling that he got the code wrong, then another four, then another signal that he put it in wrong again. She groaned loudly and shot out of bed. She threw the door open. "I've told you to slow down when putting in the code." She rolled her eyes as she walked back into the apartment.
Wooyoung blinked a few times, pursing his lips. He slowly followed her in. "Well hello to you too, jagi." He nodded a bit. He put his bag down and slipped off his shoes. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed the back of her neck. "I missed you so much. Why weren't you answering my texts or calls?" He rested his head on her shoulder. (y/n) was tense. She clenched her jaw. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Don't feel good. Was sleeping all day," She wiggled out of his grasp.
Wooyoung frowned. He blinked a few times, following after her curiously. "Why don't you feel good? Are you sick?" He moved in front of her to put his hand to her forehead. She glared up at him. "Isn't that what not feeling good means?" She grumbled. She pushed his hand away. "You're home early." She pointed out as she looked at the clock on the wall. Wooyoung cooed happily. "Mhm! I missed you and we also got a lot of work done today, so we were let out early." He smiled happily. But he faltered a bit. "Are you not.. happy to see me?" He laughed nervously.
He knew she didn't feel good.. But she was normally clingy when she was sick. (y/n) turned to him. "What gave you that idea?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly. Wooyoung waved his hands quickly. "I wasn't-! I just thought- You're normally clingy when you don't feel good- So i thought like- Maybe-" He was rambling, trying to explain himself. (y/n) rolled her eyes, turned to walk away to their room. She laid back down in bed and grabbed her phone. Wooyoung stood there dumbfounded. He itched the back of his neck.
He rushed over to the room and hopped on the bed, resting his head on her stomach. "What's wrong, my jagiya? You don't seem okay.." He frowned up at her. (y/n) clenched her jaw. She took a deep breath and put her phone down. "Get off." She pushed him up and got out of bed. She was trying to get away from him. She was about to fucking lose it. She didn't wanna blow up on him.. Wooyoung blinked. He grumbled before walking after her. "Come on, jagi. You'll feel better if you-" He was cut off as she whipped around.
"Do you ever leave me alone!? Ever?" She yelled. She pushed him back a bit. "You pester me every fucking day, Wooyoung! What if I wanna be left alone, huh?!" She glared. Wooyoung stumbled back a bit. He blinked at her, frowning deeply. He picked at his fingers. "Jagi, what are you talking about?" His voice was quiet. He hated yelling. Or arguments. (y/n) scoffed loudly. "You! You're so obnoxious all the time! Do you ever leave anyone alone?!" She spat.
That struck a chord.. Wooyoung knew he could be loud and annoying. But to flat out be called as such by his girlfriend hit hard. He looked down. (y/n) scoffed loudly. "So now you're quiet? Shit." She grumbled. She walked past him. Wooyoung said nothing. He went to the door and grabbed his shoes, slipping them on. He tucked the laces into his shoes and grabbed his bag. (y/n) turned. She frowned. "Where are you going?" She balled her fists. "To Sans." Was all he said before he stood up and left.
(y/n) blinked. It wasn't till the door locked that it hit her what she had done. A lump formed in her throat, and tears welled in her eyes. She chewed at her lip, hoping to god he would come back. "Woo..?" She whispered. Her body felt like jelly. Her lip trembled. She collapsed onto the couch, curling up. Sobs wracked her body.
She felt fucking awful. She hated when she did shit like that. She tried so hard to hide it from Wooyoung. It was her worst fear to blow up on him. She didn't mean to. Fuck she hated this shit. She ended up crying herself to sleep. She was so exhausted.
...
Wooyoung got to Sans, helping himself inside his best friends apartment. San frowned, peeking his head around the corner. He smiled. "Oh, hey Woo! You alright? You didnt text me you were coming over." He walked back into the kitchen to make sure the food he was cooking didn't burn. Wooyoung stayed quiet. He just set his bag down and slipped off his shoes.
He walked over to San and leaned against his back. He felt the tears well up in his eyes. His body felt hot. He was overwhelmed.. His lovers words ran laps in his head. San frowned. "Woo?" He took his ramen off the burner and turned it off. It was finished so it was fine. He turned around and looked down at him. He gently tilted his head up. His eyes widened slightly at the tears that streamed down his face.
"She called me obnoxious, San!" Wooyoung hiccupped, looking up at him. Sans jaw dropped a small bit. "Who? (y/n)?" He blinked. Wooyoung nodded and wiped his face. But it only stayed dry for a few seconds before more tears streamed down his cheeks. He was more emotional than most.. His heart was easily poked at. San pursed his lips.
He gently hugged the male and rubbed his back. Wooyoung gripped onto him and cried into his chest. San knew how sensitive Wooyoung could be. He knew it was especially when he was called loud or annoying that it got to him bad. He didn't know (y/n) as well as Wooyoung did, but he was sure that she wouldn't say something like that on purpose. He took a deep breath, resting his head on Wooyoungs. The males tears soaked into his hoodie.
San was not nosey by any means, but he did find pills in the cabinet behind the mirror when he was looking for toothpaste at their apartment. He was staying over that night and forgot his toothpaste at home. The pills were addressed to (y/n). When he looked it up later he found out that they were bipolar pills. He wasn't gonna ask about it, cause obviously he wasn't supposed to be looking at the pills in the first place.
San sighed. He gently pulled away and rubbed Wooyoungs temple with his thumb. "Are you hungry?" He asked softly. Wooyoung slowly nodded. He whipped his face with the paws of his sleeves. "I'm sorry- I just.. It caught me so off guard I didn't-" He felt himself getting choked up again. San shook his head, waving his hand. "Woo, it's okay. I promise." He said. He patted his head. "Let's just get you fed, yeah? I'll call and talk to her?" He suggested. Wooyoung nodded and took a deep breath.
Soon Wooyoung was settled at the table with food. He scrolled through his phone as he ate. San took his phone and walked to his room and dialed (y/n)'s number. He held the phone to his ear.
(y/n) whimpered a little, twitching a bit. She squeezed her eyes open and looked at her phone. She gasped and reached for it and answered quickly. "San! Is Wooyoung there?" She asked quickly. Her voice was slightly raspy from just waking up. San hummed. "He is." He said. He took a deep breath. "Is everything okay?" He asked. (y/n) took a deep breath. "Yeah? No-? Fuck I.. I said something I didn't mean. Is he okay?" She asked. San sighed and pursed his lips. "He's pretty hurt, (y/n)." He said.
(y/n) closed her eyes. She ran a hand through her tangled hair. "I need to see him.. I need to say how sorry I am. I need to explain-" She pleaded. "I think he should stay here for tonight." San suggested. "Just to give him time to think." He said. "No. San, what if he thinks i'm serious about what I said?" (y/n) gulped. "San, i have to talk to him now before it gets into his head- please-" (y/n) was pleading. She couldn't stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks. She was so upset..
San closed his eyes. "I'll tell him that you didn't mean it, (y/n). I'll tell him to go home tomorrow. Or at least later tonight. But he needs a second to breathe, okay? You do too. Just breathe." He said. (y/n) closed her eyes and nodded softly. "Yeah- I.. Just tell him I love him. Please. Thank you for taking care of him, San." She finally gave up. She knew that even if she wanted to argue, San wouldn't send Wooyoung home. "I will. Take a breath, (y/n). It'll be okay." With that San hung up.
He walked back out to where he left Wooyoung to see him finished with his food. He was twiddling his thumbs over the keyboard. San sighed and walked over to him. He sat beside him and saw he was on his texts with (y/n). "She's not mad." He said. "She didn't mean to say what she said." He said. Wooyoung looked at him and blinked. "Wait, really?" He let out a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding. San nodded. "Really. She loves you. She wants you to go home.. But I told her you both need time." He explained. "Your choice, but it's a suggestion." He nodded.
Wooyoung bit his lip. He looked down. "I'll stay for a little longer. Just to wind down a bit more." He nodded a little. He took a deep breath. "I'll make you food. Since I uh.. Ate all your ramen." He laughed nervously. San hummed and shook his head a bit. "You don't have to," He shrugged. Wooyoung waved his hands. "I will. Then i'll leave after I do." He hummed softly. He nodded a small bit. He stood up, taking his dish into the kitchen. San sighed. He ran a hand through his hair before getting up to help Wooyoung in the kitchen.
...
After making San dinner, and sitting to talk with him while he ate, he headed home. He had time to think during his talk with San. Even on the drive home. But he was still nervous as he put in the code to the apartment. Slowly this time so as to not mess up the code.. That's what caused this whole mess in the first place, wasn't it?
He walked in, setting his bag down and slipping his shoes off, setting them on the rack. He let out a shaky breath. "(y/n)?" He called out. He heard shuffling, making him frown a bit. (y/n) had taken a shower to try and get a moment to think. She was just sitting in the water when she heard the code to the door being put in. She had turned off the water, immediately drying off and getting dressed. She had gotten dressed into one of Wooyoung's shirts and a pair of her shorts.
She nearly fell on her face as she rushed out into the living room. Her hair dripped, her hair still plenty damp. Her lip trembled. Wooyoung's eyes softened on her just a bit. But his body was still a little tense. "Jagiya.." He let out quietly. (y/n) ran to him and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Woo!" She cried. She gripped onto his sweater. She hiccupped as she cried into his chest. Wooyoung slowly hugged her back.
(y/n) pulled away to look up at him. Her face was puffy and red. Her eyes were glossed over with tears. "Woo, I didn't mean to yell at you like that." She said. "You're not obnoxious-! You're never annoying or loud." She added quickly. She held his face. "Please, Woo.. I.. I've been off my med for a little- And I just-" She closed her eyes tightly. "Meds? What meds?" Wooyoung furrowed his eyebrows at her.
(y/n) had kept it from him. She was afraid that if she told him that he would run from her. That he would get weirded out and leave her. She loved him.. She didn't want him to leave her. "My bipolar meds.. I-I didn't wanna tell you because I was scared!" She cried softly. "I don't want you to be scared of me- Or grossed out or-" She was cut off by his finger going over her lips. "Stop it." Wooyoung said.
"First of all, i'm not mad. I'm not scared." He said. "Second of all, the fact you would even think such a thing hurts." He huffed. "I think you're so amazing and beautiful, bipolar or not." He said. "I just wish you would have told me.. So I would have been able to help you through it rather than leave you alone, you know?" He said. (y/n)'s eyes welled with more tears. "You-You're not mad?" She mumbled. "But what I said to you! How are you not-" She was cut off by his lips on hers.
She leaned into the kiss, gently wrapping her arms around his neck. She looked up at him as he pulled away. "I'm sorry, my love.." She whispered. Wooyoung shook his head softly. "Please don't be. I just wish you would have told me. But i'm glad you did, hm?" He gave a gentle smile. "And you have to get back on your meds, please. I'll help you." He said. "You can't be skipping days. I don't want to be yelled at again.." He laughed nervously.
(y/n) nodded softly. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again." She looked up at him. Wooyoung shook his head. "Its okay, jagiya." He whispered. He tucked some hair behind her ear. "I wanna help you get better." He said. (y/n)'s eyes welled with more tears. She nodded softly. "Thank you.. I'll let you help me.." She whispered. Wooyoung smiled and kissed her gently. "I love you, jagi." He hugged her gently. "I love you too, Woo." (y/n) hugged him back, closing her eyes. "It won't happen again, I promise." She mumbled. "Hush, jagi. It's okay. I promise you that it's okay." He kissed her head and closed his eyes.
86 notes · View notes
jjbalice · 20 days
Text
Martyr's Folly
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Summary: Yunho helps and comforts the reader after they've accidentally cut too deep.
Genre: a hurt/comfort Yunho x reader oneshot
Word count: 4.81k (15-20 mins)
Trigger warnings: semi-descriptive self-harm (blood, cuts, use of blades - nothing too crazy, though, don't worry!), panicking, crying, mentions of relapsing, lots of pet names, nicknames, and physical affection lol, Yunho is a blessing
A/N: This fic is pretty personal since I've been struggling with not feeling valid enough because of the way I SH, which isn't the stereotypical kind you see in movies and such. In a way, it's an attempt at scaring myself from buying any actual blades mixed in with the comfort I crave whenever I slip up, I guess.
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Baby cuts. Cat scratches. Damage dealt within the epidermis and the higher half of the dermis. Whatever you want to call it.
For a few weeks now, that's exactly what has been slowly but steadily appearing on your feet and lower calves. Or re-appearing, rather. A bad habit from the past coming back to haunt you all over again for no apparent reason.
No but seriously, what reason for doing this is there? You're happy, you have a stable part-time job on the side of your studies that are also going great, and an incredible boyfriend with whom you've just celebrated a 6-month anniversary. No real issues in your life as far as you can see.
Sure, sometimes you get caught up in a fight with your friends or parents, or even with Yunho, or maybe some of your insecurities hit extra strong on some days. But all of that is normal, right? Just some passing obstacles that get resolved in a few days tops.
So why are you here, at 3 am, staring at the husk of a person in the mirror? Why is your head so empty yet incomprehensibly full at the same time? Why are your hands all fidgety, getting ready to strike any moment?
Truth be told, you have no clue.
This was supposed to be a lovely weekend for you. You got off work early on Friday, securing enough time to pack your stuff at your dorm before heading to Yunho's apartment for a sleepover. He's been trying to convince you to move in with him after your anniversary, saying how it would be both cheaper and closer to your university. Both of those arguments are true, and yet you remain stubborn, wanting to keep your independence for just a bit longer.
Alas, Yunho has no choice but to respect your decision and settle for weekend sleepovers in the meantime.
And even those are great! The two of you get to talk for hours and play games, cook dinner together or order in and watch TV... Mainly, though, you get to cuddle and snuggle to your hearts' content (and maybe even do a bit more than that, if the opportunity and want arises).
That's also one of the main reasons for your hesitance over this whole... relapse thing.
Because of Yunho and his affectionate nature towards you, hiding the traces of your renewed habits became much more difficult. You couldn't cut where you used to before, all of those areas feeling way too exposed now.
And so, you settled on the bottom of your legs. Anything a pair of longer socks could easily hide without too much questioning from your boyfriend. Let's just say your feet are cold all the time now, even though summer's just barely starting to end.
Is it satisfying to harm there? No, not at all. The area is too small and angular, and the pain-to-mark ratio is nowhere near optimal. Everything feels too bony and stings more than other places, and all you get from it are the faintest of scratches.
But anything to at least partially quell the urge, right?
Well, not exactly.
If the razor blade hidden within the confines of your duffel bag was any proof, your methods weren't exactly effective.
You've never used an actual razor blade before, never even planned on trying it since you knew about the dangers of using it and how everything could get out of hand within seconds. Sure, the scissors and other sharp objects you've used until now weren't exactly perfect either, but they didn't put you at as much of a risk of going to the ER.
...So why did you buy the blade then?
Well, it was pretty cheap, first of all. You could just buy it, think about using it, and then throw it out without feeling too guilty about it, right? Not to mention how it helped you feel more valid about harming, even if you haven't used it yet. Self-harm is always depicted as razor blades on wrists, so even just owning one somehow helped you feel a bit more valid amidst the disappointing scratches on your leg.
It's been a week since you've bought said blade (or 5 blades rather, as they came in a pack - what a steal!). During that week, not much has happened to it. Right after you paid and got your receipt, you tossed the paper into a nearby trash can and stashed the pack of blades into your wallet. And there they were even later tonight, as you quietly crept to your bag to retrieve them, careful not to wake Yunho up.
But let's rewind back a bit. Back to where today's misfortune started.
Just like with everything else lately, you don't know why the urge to indulge washed over you specifically tonight. You and Yunho have spent such a fun evening together, lounging around and enjoying each other in whatever way felt right.
And yet, the moment the lights were turned off and your boyfriend spooned you from behind, holding you close while his breathing slowly evened out, it was as if something had shifted in the air. An overwhelming sense of emptiness washed over you, making you feel both completely dull and overstimulated. Yunho's arms around you felt both like an anchor and a vice, the opposing feelings adding even more to the already rising chaos in your mind. You were suddenly overly aware of every part of your body, as if your own skin was calling out to you.
You didn't want to.
You knew you had to.
As gently and quietly as you could, you unwrapped yourself from Yunho's embrace and got up. He let out a soft sigh at the loss of contact, and you had to admit, you already mourned it too.
Sneaking into the bathroom, you closed the door before turning on the lights. Avoiding the reflection in the mirror, you began searching through the cabinet under the sink. You didn't want to see yourself right now. If anything, it would just add to the confusing conflict raging within you, and you really didn't need that.
Rummaging through each shelf one more time, you let out a frustrated huff. There was nothing you could use. Well, save for the expensive-looking razor Yunho owned, but you really didn't have the patience or coherency to take apart your boyfriend's belongings.
It's time, then.
The return to the bedroom was a bit stressful, as you couldn't decide between searching through your duffel bag there or bringing it with you to the bathroom. Both options seemed too noisy right now, causing you to awkwardly loom over the bag for a few moments, chewing nervously on your bottom lip.
In the end, you decided to just risk it, crouching down to begin unzipping the top. Strangely enough, you kind of hoped Yunho would hear it and wake up. Maybe the shock of being caught would stop you for the time being and you could just go back to bed.
To both your luck and dismay, Yunho didn't wake up, his biggest reaction being the slightest stir of the sheets.
With your wallet in hand, you walked back to the bathroom, your steps a bit bolder this time. Now that you knew Yunho wouldn't wake up so easily, you didn't pay as much mind to the noise you were making.
In a weird way, you were upset. Upset he didn't wake up. Upset he didn't magically realize what your new obsession with socks could possibly mean. Upset he wasn't there to stop you right now.
But along with the upset came a strange feeling of calm. Joy, even.
He doesn't know. Nobody has any idea you're doing this right now. Nobody cares enough to find out anyway. You're free to reign over your body as you please, especially if it will finally shut down the confusing mess of emotions boiling within you.
It will, right?
It's 3 am. You're staying over at Yunho's apartment and he's currently sleeping in the bedroom next-door. You finally gather enough courage to look at yourself in the mirror, but it's rather disappointing. The shell standing in front of you doesn't bring up any emotions anymore. It doesn't even look like you, you think. Maybe this isn't you, after all. That's what you like to tell yourself whenever the moment is over, that this isn't actually the real you harming yourself. This is someone else taking hold of you and your upcoming actions.
You sit down on the cold bathroom floor, a razor blade in hand. When did you unpack them? The small paper packaging and 4 other blades are lying right next to you. Huh. Guess you did just now.
You don't bother taking off the socks. A precious thing like this shouldn't be used in such a shitty spot anyways.
Then again, you also don't exactly want to die right now, so the wrists are off-limits. Sure, you want to feel more valid and that place is the most stereotypical one to cut, but you're already holding the blade you thought you'd never dare use, so that's enough "progress" for now.
Now that you think about it, the thighs sound pretty scary too. You've always heard of some major arteries being located in the thigh. Perhaps you shouldn't risk it there then. Not yet, at least.
And so, like a coward, you move back to your lower leg.
To your defense, you do go considerably higher than usual! You pick a nice spot that's vaguely in the middle of the side of your leg, where your shins and calves would meet.
Deep breaths. You can do this. Just brace yourself and-
...
...
Oh fuck.
No, no, no nonono-
You knew the risks, you knew you should watch out for the pressure when using a razor blade for the first time since it's so much sharper than any pair of scissors you own, but somehow even the lessened pressure you put was too much.
Within seconds, blood started flowing to the surface. You dropped the blade, making it fly in a random direction as your hands trembled.
Your eyes welled with tears as, despite the blood, you could see a gash way deeper than any cut you'd ever made until now; you could literally see two parts of your skin split-
You're gonna throw up. Or faint. Or both. Oh fuck.
The first drops of blood fell onto the tiles just as your own tears pooled over. Your chest heaved with your labored breathing. You didn't know what to do.
Should you go to the ER? Will it stop on its own? Should you wake Yunho up? Oh god, you should probably wake Yunho up, shouldn't you.
Wiping your tear-stained face as best as you could with your shirt, you crawled over to the bathroom door. You were too scared to walk, afraid you'd faint if you stood up so suddenly.
As you sat by the door, another sob wracked through you. You couldn't calm down, you were too scared of what might happen if you didn't take care of the gash in time. And yet, you couldn't help but fear what might happen if you woke Yunho up. Now that you think about it, maybe it will just stop on its own and you can hide it for the rest of the weekend and then you'll just make up a story of how you got into an accident at work and-
One look at the trail of blood behind you was enough to get your hands on the door handle, pulling the door open on your second try. The door handle flew back up with a loud bang as you dropped back down, but the door was open at last. You pulled it fully open from where you sat, taking a few shallow breaths once you did so.
"...Y/N?"
Now. Now he wakes up. Not at any point before you could have done this. Now.
In the back of your mind, a strange feeling of anger bubbled up. Somehow, you wanted to blame Yunho for not getting to you sooner. But the second you realized what your brain was trying to do, you felt another pang of nausea hit you.
Yunho was not to blame in the slightest. This is all you. You started this, you went through with it, and now you're crawling back to him for help. Don't even try to put any blame on him, no matter how much easier it would make this whole thing to stomach.
"Y/N, are you okay?"
Right, he was awake. The shuffling of the sheets coming from the bedroom confirmed as much.
You tried to call out to him but choked on another sob instead.
All of your fear of being seriously hurt and needing help immediately shifted, transforming into the most heart-wrenching wave of guilt imaginable. Just what have you done? Why are you burdening someone else with this? Are you really going to make him see this?
Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the first footstep. All the raging panic hit you anew, making you speak before you could think.
"W-wait!" You cried, an unknown feeling of desperation clutching your chest. "Please, please don't come here, please."
To your surprise, the footsteps actually stopped.
"...I'm waiting, but please tell me what's going on," Yunho replied with obvious unease.
Well, uh. You haven't exactly thought this far, have you?
"O-okay, I, well, I," you stumbled over your words, trying to work through the mush of your brain to come up with anything even barely comprehensible. "I did something really bad and I think I need your help but you have to promise not to be mad. I don't know what to do but please don't be upset."
Selfish. That's what you were. Even amongst all this chaos and pain you were about to drag Yunho into, all you could think about was saving your own face and evading consequences.
"Y/N, I'm sorry but I'm coming in," Yunho suddenly announced, and the footsteps resumed. "I need to see if you're okay, I promise I won't be mad."
There was no escaping it now. You could only brace yourself for the worst, whatever that would entail.
Two feet stood before your hunched-over form. You didn't dare look up, you didn't dare see what he was feeling.
As carefully as he could, Yunho stepped around you and further into the bathroom. You heard the scraping of metal across tiles before the cabinet doors opened. A towel, a first aid kit, and a medium-sized, colorful box appeared before you, along with your boyfriend in his cozy pajamas. Still, you didn't dare look up.
Wordlessly, he propped your injured leg up as gently as he could, as if he was handling the finest china in the world. Placing the dark grey towel under it, blood immediately rolled down and seeped into the material.
"Okay, this might seem a bit weird, but just- I'm not an expert or anything, far from it, really, but-"
As Yunho rambled nervously, you watched his hands tear open a pack of pads. Ever since your sleepovers became a more regular thing, he'd made sure to keep some in his apartment at all times in case of an emergency. Never had he thought he'd use them in this type of emergency, though.
You watched in confusion as he pulled out one of the pads, opening it and double-checking which side was sticky and which was dry. Unable to hide his worried grimace as he got closer to the wound, he pressed the cotton pad against it.
"I- I probably have something better in the first aid kit to stop the bleeding, but while I look through it, just hold that down to the cut, okay?"
You nodded weakly, deciding not to ask any questions and just let your boyfriend try to fix you. Not that you could say much anyway, not with the way your throat had dried and closed up from all the anxiety.
You silently kept watch as Yunho fumbled through the red bag, noticing the slight tremors in his hands. When you looked at his face, however, it appeared surprisingly neutral.
Ah, so he was trying to stay calm to not worry you any further, but on the inside, he was freaking out just as much as you, if not more. Great. You didn't think you could feel more guilt than you already had, but guess not.
"I'm sorry it's taking so long," he spoke up again, "Mingi would get injured all the time before he'd moved out - you know how clumsy he can get - and I, uh, haven't exactly taken the time to re-organize everything. Sorry."
Your lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, along with a hushed "It's okay, babe".
Yunho's eyes shot up at your words, mirroring your soft smile with his own. Pausing his search for just a second, he leaned over and planted a quick, reassuring kiss on your forehead. "You're right. I'll take good care of you, don't worry. After the first accident Mingi had here, I bought some steri-strips... They should still be around here somewhere, but we threw the original packaging away, so they're just a bit hard to find."
You hummed in understanding, hoping you could ease at least some of his worries by showing him you were doing alright.
Somehow, the moment Yunho appeared in the doorway, all of your previous panic stopped. It was as if through his presence, the jumbled mess of worries surrounding you had split into two. Yunho had graciously shouldered the worries about your physical state, while you focused on keeping his mental well-being in check. All of the fear about his reaction to this situation as a whole was still there, of course, but for the time being, you'd managed to shove them to the back of your mind. It was something to worry about later, when the two of you could calm down and properly talk to each other.
For now, all you had to do was just worry about Yunho while he worried about you.
"Finally!" Yunho sighed in relief, fishing out two small packs of steri-strips. "Okay. Let's do this, then."
But as he shuffled closer to your leg again, he paused.
"Wait, I'm sorry for assuming," he began while opening the first set, "but you don't want to go to the hospital, right? They'd obviously do a much better job than me, but since you said you needed my help, I just, I guessed that- you know. Should we go to the hospital instead?"
You immediately shook your head no, making Yunho smile faintly, glad to have read you right and that he wasn't wasting time trying to play hero.
You were thankful he didn't insist on taking you to the hospital. You knew it would probably be for the best, but right now, in your state, you couldn't even fathom going. You were terrified just crawling to the door to beg for Yunho's help, let alone driving to the opposite part of town to have complete strangers examine you.
"Right then," Yunho sighed, mentally steeling himself for the next step. "Can you feel your leg fine? Feeling faint or anything?"
You just shook your head, slowly easing the pressure you held on the cut. "I'm okay, I think. Just a little shaken up still."
Yunho nodded thoughtfully, helping you unstick the bloody pad from your hand. Luckily, it seemed that most of the bleeding had stopped, at least for now. "It's okay, I'm a bit out of it too."
"Sorry for making you do this," you whispered sincerely, but Yunho quickly stopped you again.
"Don't be sorry, Y/N. I know you didn't mean to do this. You wouldn't have called for me like that if things went down the way you wanted them to."
You couldn't bring yourself to say anything after that, feeling your throat tighten as a fresh wave of tears rushed to your eyes.
You averted your gaze as Yunho began cleaning the area as gently as he could before placing the strips down, helping hold the wound shut. Four strips helped the cut close up, and then two were laid on top of them to help everything stay put. Despite no professional medical training, you swear your boyfriend could do anything like an expert first-try. Well, considering him saying something about treating Mingi's injuries, he might have actually trained a bit already. Either way, you could feel your nerves easing a considerable bit at the sight of the gash finally closed-up.
"There we go," Yunho said contently, giving your other leg a gentle pat. "Just stay put a little longer, okay? I'm gonna clean up a bit in here."
Oh, that's right.
You were so out of it you completely forgot about the blades scattered around, the blood dripping across the floor, the towel, pads, first aid kit, everything.
Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on your breathing. It has mostly returned to normal, but you could still feel a lot of tightness in your chest.
"Hey now, don't go falling asleep on me, okay?" You heard Yunho calling out to you a few meters away, making you peek one eye open.
He was kneeling by the sink, scrubbing at the dirty tiles. When he noticed you looking at him, he flashed you a quick, comforting smile.
"'m not falling asleep," you protested, "I'm just resting a bit, sorry."
"It's okay, I was just a little worried."
Yeah. That's definitely one way to put how Yunho was likely feeling right now.
But that could be dwelled on and discussed later. For now, all you had to do was sit still, breathe deep, and stay strong.
...
"You still with me, princess?"
You opened your eyes again, this time to find Yunho sitting in front of you. You don't know how much time has passed, too focused on pacing your breaths, saying the alphabet forwards and backwards, thinking about your favorite TV show moments - anything to calm down, really.
When he saw you were still fully awake, he pulled out a gauze bandage with a small smile. "We should be fine with just the steri-strips, but let me wrap this up for you to be one hundred percent safe, okay?"
You let him do as he pleased, trusting his judgment better than your own at the moment. As he bandaged your leg, you looked around the room, noticing everything was back the way it was before you'd entered.
"I put the, uh, the blades away for now," Yunho continued, a nervous edge to his tone. "I didn't want to just throw them away without permission, but leaving them out here in the open didn't seem like a great idea either. Sorry if it seems distrustful, it's just... you know."
"You're scared I might do it again," you finished for him, making him nod hesitantly. "It's okay, I get it."
It was honestly surprising how easy it was to talk to Yunho about this. Maybe it's because he already saw the worst of it, maybe it was the way he took such gentle care of you, or maybe it was just his entire attitude about this so far. Caring, non-judgemental, open to listen.
"Alright then, I think we're done here. Let's get you to bed, shall we?"
Before you could respond, you were picked up by a pair of strong, warm hands. You wanted to object for a split second, but on second thought, maybe it was in your best interest not to move too much right now.
A few moments later, you were laid back down on the bed, a soft kiss pressed to your temple before you were shrouded in your blanket. With a whispered promise of returning again, Yunho rushed back to turn off the lights and close the door, enveloping the two of you in darkness. You waited a second, two, and then the bed dipped behind you with a quiet creak.
"Come here." Yunho's arms wrapped around your waist from behind again, holding you closer than before. "Is this okay? Should I give you space?"
"It's fine, Yuyu."
His chest shook with a small chuckle. "Oh come on, don't call me that right now." He somehow snuggled up even closer to you, pressing his face into your neck. "I'm already emotional enough as is."
A beat or two of silence passed between the two of you before he spoke up again.
"Was this," Yunho paused, hesitating for a second, "was this the first time you did something like this, or are there... more?"
You sighed. "Well, this was the first time I've messed up like this and used an actual razor blade, but in general? There's been a few instances, yeah. Most of them happened years ago, but lately, it started up again."
Yunho stayed quiet this time. As the silence stretched on, you began to grow worried. Is this the moment where he gets mad at you?
A sniffle broke through the air, quickly followed by another. The hold around your waist tightened.
"It's the socks, isn't it?" Yunho barely choked out, voice trembling.
Never have you felt so guilty in your life before.
"I thought it was weird, I wanted to ask you about it, I really did," he sobbed, burying his wet face further into your shirt. "I didn't want to make you feel bad about it if it was genuinely just something you preferred, so I held back, but it worried me anyway. I should have asked so much sooner."
"Yu..." You tried to turn around in his embrace, but he stopped you, not letting you see his tearful eyes. "Honey, it's not your fault in the slightest, please don't beat yourself up about it."
"But I should have-"
"Just listen to the same advice you gave me, hm? You never wanted this to happen, you wouldn't be so torn up about it otherwise. It's really not your fault."
With what you assumed to be a watery hum of agreement, Yunho nodded into your back.
You tried to turn around again, and this time, Yunho finally let you. You watched as his silhouette sat up, reaching around for the tissue box on the nightstand before wiping his tears and blowing his nose.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, crumpling the tissue and putting it away, "you're the one hurting and I'm making it all about myself."
You tutted softly as he laid back down, shuffling closer to him to drape yourself over his broad chest. "That's not true, Yun. I know this is really hard on you as well, you have all the right to be upset. Please don't hide it just because I'm also in pain."
"Okay," he accepted, taking a deep breath to calm himself.
The room stayed quiet for another few minutes, save for the faint rustling of the sheets as you intertwined one of your hands with his.
"If it's okay," Yunho croaked in a careful, ginger tone, "could we maybe talk more about this tomorrow? I feel like I have over a million questions right now, but I don't want to overwhelm you when you should be resting."
You let out a small, sleepy chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds good. I think I'll also feel a bit better if we talk about this some more tomorrow. It's a bit embarrassing even now when I know that you know, but I trust you enough to share this part of me, I think."
Yunho leaned down to kiss the top of your head, making you smile. "Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me. And please, never feel embarrassed about this. Just because this stuff is not talked about enough doesn't mean your feelings are wrong or not valid. We'll figure this out together, I promise. No matter what it takes."
"Okay. I look forward to tomorrow," you said, pressing a quick peck to his sternum before lying down again. "Goodnight, Yuyu."
"Goodnight, love."
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Please, don't hesitate to reblog or comment!! Any kind of feedback is much appreciated!! <333
(Also would once again like to say that this was not meant to romanticize SH in any way, and I hope it did not come across that way. Take care, everyone <3)
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solarswonderland · 1 year
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Seonghwa, teaching Hongjoong to drive: Okay so you're driving when Yunho and Wooyoung walk in front of you. Quick, what do you hit?
Hongjoong: Definitely Wooyoung, I could never hurt Yunho.
Seonghwa, massaging his temples: The brakes. You hit the brakes.
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hwaightme · 1 month
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I will wait
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(masterlist)
🍵pairing: seonghwa x gn!reader 🍵genre: comfort, healing, fluff, confession, friends to lovers, implied slowburn 🍵summary: you would have never expected to be facing your biggest fear over a cooling cup of tea, but here you are, gazing into seonghwa's loving eyes. 🍵wordcount: 2.8k total 🍵warnings/tags: semi-edited, slightly dark humour, mention of relationship trauma, learning to love again, emotional exhaustion, present tense, seonghwa is a loving understanding boy, inner monologues, y/n pov, mutual friend joong 🍵 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🍵 a/n: hello <3 slowly trying to make a return, feeling very rusty... sorry <3 i hope this brings comfort to you <3 reblogs, thoughts and feelings always appreciated.
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Wrapped up in routine and basic survival, it is easy to forget your own heart. Similarly, when your heart bears more metaphorical scar tissue than ground for new beginnings, it is easy to abandon frivolous affections in favour of basic human function - so long as the worn out organ beats, everything is good enough. Long gone are the days when you boldly dive into a journey without evaluating the potential consequences, hoping for smooth, never ending roads. Cold, calculated, you consider. And almost one hundred percent of the time, nothing is ever worth it. What could another person bring to you that you cannot bring yourself? Down to heartbreak, you have no trouble being your own worst critic, and happiness? Well, you know what you like best. There simply is no room for anything else, anything more. You float, trying to keep your head above water. 
You have heard far too many things about yourself to continue caring about relationships. Everyone seems to have their own idea and theory about why you are perpetually single, from you being too threatening, to you behaving in some type of way. Well, if your behaviour does not suit someone, you are not about to go out of your way to change yourself to fit another’s standards - you have tried to do that before, everything collapsing and ending catastrophically, leaving you in shambles. If someone is threatened, it is their problem, first and foremost, not yours. Again, you are not going to diminish yourself, admonish yourself when you are trying your damn hardest to stay standing in a world and society that is challenging enough to exist in.
Many have told you to try to flirt ‘for sport’, ‘for fun’, but in your eyes it is a colossal waste of time, energy and your ability to lie. You do enough of that when masking your exhaustion. Some talk of their own successes; relationships that stand the test of time, crushes that turn into partners and long distance turning into close proximity. So what? You are happy for them, in fact, you are elated. Just because you yourself are not in a relationship does not mean you are void of happiness - something that a lot of people appear to either not understand or forget. Much like you get irritated at others not minding their own business, you stick to such rules yourself: your discomfort with people, past disappointments and the occasional pang of solitude are nobody else’s truth but your own. You are the keeper of your life, fatigued, but at least you are honest. To someone. You are not sure who this someone is, but you feel honest.
Jasmine tea in a tall cup in front of you, a dessert, the name of which you already forgot - some kind of special, stand in front of you proudly, aromatic and flavourful. A newly released album by a singer who you discovered a little while ago is playing on the speakers, ever so gently muted by the occasional burst of steam or rumble of the barista machine. It is not the first time you are hearing these songs - on loop, again and again, you are starting to memorise some of the lyrics. Lulling chatter of the workers at the cafe in a language you cannot understand - so melodic, so comforting, so familiar. And here you are, imagining yourself to be another decoration, a chair, a table, plant or light, sitting here, unmoving, soaking in the atmosphere of what you have grown to adore with your whole heart.
There is a reason why you love this little place, tucked away inside the side streets of a busy city. So many people, so many events, so many ups and downs, and through it all, this place stays standing. You met ‘what ifs’ here, spent hours chatting away with someone who you used to know, indulged in maybes, passions, friendships, and through it all, your heart was still so happy. You consider yourself to be harmlessly simple when it comes to things like this - very little is needed to bring a smile to your face and reassure you. Yes, there is never a problem in ‘what’ brings you joy. The issue is in who it is ‘who’ brings, or is meant to bring, this happiness to you. For this reason, you are perfectly content with how you are, having ordered the drink and dessert for yourself, sitting alone at one of the tables, and, with a view unobstructed by some individual who would probably turn into a stranger, taking in the interior and the world visible through the windows. You feel just a smidgen stronger when you step inside this place. A regular, you can chat with the baristas happily and relish in the mutual recognition and warm wishes. This is a tiny little home for you. A home for your heart.
Until right this moment, that is. Until you look up and see an awfully familiar figure slinking past the entrance and giving a light bow to one of the baristas who had spotted him. Until you lock eyes with this personified elegance, and, bewildered, follow his increasing proximity to your table. He is dressed comfortably, but even the most casual garment is made priceless when worn by him - that much you have learned to not be surprised by. Straightened black hair that reaches his shoulders in the back is, again, very befitting the weather and the aesthetic. You cannot hate him nor his looks even if you tried. But would you reveal anything except indifference? Only time can tell. For now, even before he can utter your name - his parted lips suggesting an impending greeting, you merely point at the register, motioning for him to make an order first. It has been only a couple of seconds, but you already want to hide. Looking at your phone you check the time, wondering if you can make up some other travel plan or appointment. Alas, nothing is coming to mind that qualifies as an unwavering obligation. Here’s to being caught off-guard. Particularly embarrassing considering that it is not the first time. Seonghwa - an endearing but dangerously handsome nerd who crashed into your life, as most of your friends had done, is just that little bit too dedicated, that little bit too curious, that little bit too committed to ‘being there for you’. As a friend, surely. 
You sneak the occasional glance at him while he is waiting for his drink of choice - probably a strawberry tea or whatever else that is the antithesis to bitterness. It takes a bit of strength to convince yourself that this is all pure coincidence. Just two friends who happened to see each other in the same cafe that they have both been to before. You do not want your nerves to take over and persuade you to think that there is anything more. It is all too tiring. And so you hide away your unresolved debates in a box deep in your chest, somewhere far enough from that bloodied fist that is making you lightheaded, so far that you find it harder to breathe. But it is nothing; nothing you aren’t used to. It is simple enough - giving Seonghwa a quick smile when he approaches you again with that silly little red drink in his hands, gesturing at the seat opposite you, waiting for him to settle and look up at you with a sparkle in his endless rich chocolate eyes.
“Must be fate, huh?” he jokes, while your grin falters. There he goes again.
“Are you following me, Park?” Your question is delivered without much emotion aside from a raised brow. But you know well enough that this is about as good as using cotton in place of a bullet; Seonghwa keeps on grinning, and takes a quick sip of his tea. 
“No need when you’re always on my mind,” you pretend to feel nauseous from his corny flirting, and roll your eyes. It is despicable how his presence really is entertaining.
“Oh dear. Must be a nightmare. Need a therapist?” 
“This would be the best diagnosis one could ever receive, I fear,” he is spectacularly bold today, that much you can deduce. Contrary to popular descriptions from your other mutual friends, Seonghwa has never been ‘shy’ towards you, and his affection knows no bounds. Be it a random trinket, song link or a sweet word, he truly does seem to have an infinite supply of it - something both perplexing, and enviable. He is a person who is so full of love that it overflows. In short, your opposite.
“Right…” you trail off, not quite sure how to respond. His eyes remain on your face, softening from a bright eagerness to tranquil admiration, “well… what brings you here?”
“Cutting straight to the chase?”
“Tired of running,” your deadpanned response clearly has some kind of impression, as Seonghwa momentarily pauses and purses his lips. 
“Fair enough.”
Tap, tap, another tap on the side of his cup. Finger restlessly tracing his nervousness into the curves and edges of the ceramic. Newfound fascination in counting the crumbs that are like stars on your plate. You count seconds, but each one drags on until it has no meaning. What could be so challenging to put into words? You know, but hope with all your being that you are completely and utterly wrong. In your books, once a person has given up, there is no point in ever reigniting that naive fighting spirit that suffered defeat, only for the risk to have the fall repeat. You wait patiently, suppressing the urge to stand up and walk out.
“Okay, so, I did ask Hongjoong where you were-” he begins with a light simpering smile to mask what you can only read as worry.
“Figured.”
“Mm, alright. Uhm, well. How can I even- so…”
All the signs are evident. You should have known from the moment he entered the cafe. And if not then, then at least from the way he was acting right before this. But you do not have the courage to stop him anymore, choosing to let anguish settle in your bones. He clears his throat, barely audible, perhaps to ground himself yet again. You feel sorry - the trepidation of the heart, the wishes and dreams blending with the present vision, adrenaline and foolishness forcing action. Thankfully, this twisted bouquet of emotional torment is not terminal, if treated correctly. You wait.
“Goodness, I wanted this to be a casual setting and here I am making a big deal out- well, it is a big deal… or, well, it could be if you wanted to- what am I saying-” he stumbles over his own words, which is most certainly something uncharacteristic to him. Seonghwa, normally the one who can encapsulate any situation and sensation in the most wondrous collections of phrases, is at a loss. Might this be terminal?
“Perhaps it is best that I start from the end, then,” you prepare yourself for the worst, “I… I really like you. Really, really like you.”
At least you are prepared.
“Oh…” the single syllable betrays your irrevocably increasing agitation. You don’t ‘love’. You don’t ‘like’. You can’t. You shouldn’t. Does Seonghwa not know what he is walking into?
“I- before you say it, let me… I know that this is terrifying, and hell, I’m so sorry for crashing into your day like this. It was selfish of me. But I just want you to know that no matter what, you will always be an important person to me, a very very important person who makes my life brighter than any star,” you swallow whatever retort lodged in your throat, remaining silent. You cool like the tea in your cup, curious who will leave this cafe shattered. A lukewarm kind of sadness.
Shame on you, for being so closed off. Surely, you should be blaming yourself. Objectively, Seonghwa is beyond lovely. To some, he might be everything. Maybe even to you, he might be something of a balancing force. His fire to your ice, if you were to let yourself indulge in being a tiny bit cheesy. Subjectively, the ice would melt, and put out the fire, or instead turn to wispy steam, blending into promises, equally as airy. It is easy enough to figure out that you are stuck in the latter maze of conclusions.
You could cry. Seonghwa, having noticed a droplet by your cup- be it condensation or a careless descent from a sip turned sour, immediately reaches for a napkin and wipes it away, as if everything that is happening is only natural. As if confessing is nothing out of the ordinary to him. Perhaps this is indeed the case, and you are the only one who has gone to great lengths to disassociate yourself from all things ‘love’. Ballads turn to taunts, poems turn to curses, bouquets turn to rotting litter. How dare Seonghwa show up in your life like this, and threaten to never leave? Your gaze crawls slowly upwards, a frail candlelight extinguished with the roar of his glimmering orbs, already having trailed back to studying you. Your skin crawls at the possibility of him reading your distress - he can, you know he can, he probably is. A shiver travels up your spine. Thankfully, Seonghwa does not mention it, despite the furrowing of his brows being obvious even from the briefest glimpse.
“Well…” your thought ends where it has begun. Words fail you. You clench your fist, instinctively looking for the sleeve of your top to offer some kind of distraction. 
“Hm?” He could be a painting. Every movement effortlessly graceful, he puts models to shame, and gold loses its meaning when faced with his heart. You cannot utter the question plaguing you out loud, but you know that it is the only thing you could possibly manage, and even then, you’d rather forever hold your silence than to see your friend, or not quite friend, be crestfallen. He would lie, he would pretend, all in the efforts to not turn into your mirror. 
“...Why? Why did I say it, right?” Clearly, he knows you too well. You bite your lower lip, and give him a tiny nod while cradling the cup in your hands. His chuckle awakens unwanted butterflies that you attempt to kill with a sword of memories. To no avail. He is not mad nor disappointed, is not lashing out at you and does not seem in any way discouraged. Instead, his hands hover beside yours as he whispers for permission, which you mutely give. He grins, and soon enough, the palms of his hands are caressing your knuckles - reassuring, gentle. 
“I think we are quite similar in some ways. Guided by our morals and beliefs, we act and shape our futures. It just so happens that I believe in love,” a turbulent pause, “...and you. I believe in you. And so I dive headfirst. Into you. And I don’t mind what happens to me, because I still would consider myself lucky to feel what I feel for you.”
“Then you must be aware that… hm, that I am perplexed by this progression?”
“I can explain as many times as you’d like and need.”
“Do my views not bother you? Seonghwa, you are familiar with a lot more than the average person, isn’t that repulsive?” you make an attempt to ruin whatever image he had built up of you in his head, but he would not budge.
“Why would they? I did, I do and I will strive to understand.”
Time fades, and all that remains is an invitation. Hands outstretched, calling for you to take the leap. You are scared out of your mind, unable to see what the future holds. Stone cracks and echoes in your ribcage, sending a ripple through what you had buried. You really shouldn’t, for Seonghwa’s sake, but that little voice in your head is singing, and daring you to try. Would you hate yourself if you would be proven true? Or would parting with Seonghwa be just as sweet as the beginning?
“And what if I- what if I want to… but I need time… to like you…”
“Then I will wait. For as long as you want,” he takes your hands by the fingers, gingerly grasping them and running soothing lines with his thumb, for as long as you need.”
It may be easy to forget your own heart, it may be the case that you are happy alone. But at the same time there is someone who remembers your heart, hoping you would remember theirs. Someone who will wait for you on the other side of solitude, unfreezing and turning the clocks from past to present. Someone who, with every passing day, finds more and more of you to love.
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🍵 perma-taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @marsstarxhwa @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu
enjoyed? please do consider reblogging, thank you <3
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stariiiize · 3 months
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imagine, one day, just looking at yourself in the mirror and feeling so happy.
you’re not the prettiest, you know that, but you’re happy.
you don’t have the curves or the hourglass body, but you’re happy.
you don’t have a flat stomach, but you’re happy.
you don’t have a thigh gap, but you’re happy.
and you slowly start to realize,
you don’t have a lot of friends, but you’re happy.
not everyone likes you, but you’re happy.
you’re not the smartest, but you’re happy.
you don’t talk a lot, but you’re happy.
you’re not socially active, but you’re happy.
you’re not perfect, but you’re happy.
that day might not be today but you’ll get there, i know you will.
there will be a day in your life where you’ll be happy with yourself.
happy with the way you look, happy with the way you act, just happy with your life.
that day might not be today but it’ll come.
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