🀲 m/missy, ‘97, follows back via @an-exotic-writer
🀲 bits and bobs for khh artists (mainly simon dominic/jay park)
[!] there might be nsfw content, so please be aware of the disclaimers and proceed with caution. minors do not engage/interact if content is stated to be nsfw.
🀲 pairing: lee sunghwa (gray) x reader / fluff 🌸 / mentions of pills and painkillers / word count: 619 words
🀲 sunghwa doesn't like it when you're in pain (never does)
(refreshing this post from a prev. account: @sdominant)
[masterlist 🎲]
sunghwa's a light sleeper. not all the time (considering there are days when the workload is too heavy to bear) but most times, at the slight crack of the floorboard, he's groaning awake.
he senses movements on the bed the moment he feels his arm being lifted up. his eyes peel open with a sigh as he watches you move in the dark, curling up into a ball as you hug your pillow. a frown appears on his face as he tries to shift closer towards you, now being on full-alert as he places a hand on your lower back.
the act alone startles you with a soft gasp as you turn to the side, and his eyes take in how sad you look in turn for his worried gaze on you.
"s-sorry," you mumble, a hand of yours reaching out to go through his hair, "did i wake you?"
he shakes his head, the strands of his hair against your palm ruffling up as he pushes himself a bit to sit up, getting a closer look at you. for a split second, your eyes snap shut as you clutch onto the side of your head, as if you're trying to swallow the pain and sunghwa doesn't know which is worse. the fact that he can see you're in pain and he can't do anything about it, or that you're simply in pain.
"you're having those headaches again," his voice is monotonous, even though every part of his being is upset that he can't do anything that'll take the pain away. you hear him heaving a sigh and upon meeting eyes again, he gives you a pinned look that makes your voice grow soft as you say: "they were fine yesterday..."
"well," he huffs, pushing himself off the bed, "today is a new day,"
you press your lips together in efforts to shut up even though you're not saying anything, watching as sunghwa walks around the bed and holds his hand out, "come."
wordlessly, you put your hand in his to allow him to pull you up and you're following his footsteps to the kitchen. he lets go of your hand to pin you against the counter, "wait here," as he steps away to rummage through the cupboards. a few opening and closing of the cupboard doors later, the soft rattle of a pill bottle with a short running of the tap water, sunghwa presents himself in front of you.
despite being in the dark, you can see him using his eyes to point at what he's holding. you don't miss a beat to reach for the pills and glass of water, taking the usual dosage and he takes the glass away to ditch it in the sink. then, he turns to you to grip onto your hand so he can lure you back to the bedroom where he effectively tucks you in.
it was... uncanny.
"what're you smiling at?" he grumbles, yet, his actions prove otherwise as he pushes the hair back from your forehead, gazing at you as your eyes sleepily blink slowly, clutching onto one of his hands as you hug it to your chest, "nothin'," you smile, but sunghwa reads between the lines all too well that it makes him scoff and lightly tap your forehead, "go to sleep, you brat."
"yeah yeah," you chuckle, eyes closing, about to drift off to sleep but not before giving his hand a kiss and snuggling into the bed, "thank you, sunghwa-yah,"
"whatever," he murmurs, leaning over to kiss your forehead, which is the real answer you hear in your head when you can feel the smile of his lips on your skin: you're welcome.
🀲 pairing: jung kiseok (simon dominic) x reader / 1120 words / (mostly) fluff, (tiny) angst 🌸☔️
🀲 in some cases, actions does speak louder than words
[masterlist 🎲]
kiseok would always resort to actions rather than words first when it came to apologising... which was funny when you think about it. as someone who writes and lives off producing lyrics for a living, performing on stage with just his words and voice, he's using everything but that when it come down to an apology. not sure if it was you, not sure if it was just the way nature revolves around anything remotely reminding him of you, but it... just feels better and more sincere whenever it happens.
and you remember it clearly because–you always act before you speak.
isn't it more sincere that way?
well, consider this more than you had anticipated when he's pushed you so far to the point you can't see him–for now, at least. it's been an hour since you resorted to walking away past the onslaught of words he threw your way; to your face and aiming straight for the heart. you know better than to take any offense to it when what he does for a living is quite... pressuring, to say the least.
biting your tongue and walking away is what you do best... but not before reminding him who he was talking to and get his head out of his ass when he's ready to speak to you. kiseok was grateful–so grateful that he has someone like you who can tolerate him. more than words can embody, more than his mind can imagine.
so he approaches you after an hour of letting him you cool off in one of the vacant studios. normally, he would ask for hints from sunghwa (who deemed to be the one you went to oftentimes) or jaebum (who would notice something is wrong and already offer his ears) but today, none of that. he ended up walking all over the building just to try to get a glimpse of you. he stops at the second door on the seventh floor he was on, noticing that in the midst of emptiness and vacancy, an oddly familiar looking figure catches his eyes from the peep window.
he swallows thickly and places a hand on the door, reluctant to enter despite that being the only thing he wants to do. after a couple of breaths, he decides fuck it and pushes the door open to the person he's been running all over to look for. there you are, standing by an electric piano, fingers fiddling with the keys. carefully, he closes the door behind him and remains at where he is, as if he's waiting to see if you'd walk out... and he'll let you. simply because there's no way he'll force you to listen to him or allow him to hold you if you didn't want it.
but... when you stay at where you are, mindlessly dragging your fingers over the keys of the keyboard before tapping on them one after another to a tune that calms your heart, he takes it as a cue to move forward.
he starts thinking of what to do when he steps closer towards you but... all plans fly out of the window when his body takes over. he stands a mere step behind you as he watches your hands stop moving, hovering over the keyboard that he carefully takes ahold of them so he can hold onto your hands as he folds them over in front of your torso as his chest molds against your back, pulling you to his chest silently.
the warmth is spreading through your body like fluttering kisses on your skin, waves of comfort flushing out any ill feelings left festering a while back. he leans in and noses along your neck, his arms squeezing you as he feels the way your hands willingly slot between his fingers as you let him hold you.
all is soon forgotten when you let him lure you away from the piano. Not too far, only a few steps away before you let go of his hands to turn around to face him. he does this thing with his face–torn between looking like a lost puppy and attempting to look strong... only for the lost puppy to win when you put your arms around him to hug him properly.
you can hear him smiling with the way he sighs in delight, arms immediately finding their way to wrap around you. he relishes in the way your face slots against his neck and he puts a hand behind your head to keep you there; arms coiling around you as he kisses the side of your head.
"i'm sorry," he murmurs, against your temple as he kisses you again, lips resting over your ear, "I'm so sorry,"
you have your hands on his chest as you push him back a little, so you can peek up to look at him, "It's okay,"
your hands remain on his chest, drawing small circles with your palms as you watch a smile twitches on his face as you say: "but you're scary as fuck when you're stressed,"
"i know, i know," he chuckles, dipping lower so he can bury his face in your neck. the softness of his lips tickle your neck before you feel a gentle kiss, followed by the breath of his words: "but i'm trying to control that,"
"yeah... i guess..." you tease, and you can tell he knows it when he huffs against your neck, pulling back so he can squint at you. the squint turns into a smile he can't resist when you lock gazes. you let him lure you towards his lips as he cups your chin. he kisses you; melting away any of his bitter words that left poisoning on your tongue, sweetening the taste of his love when he spells it out on your lips to remind you.
he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
"i am getting better, no?" his head tilts a little as he asks.
you snort, tapping his chest, "yeah yeah, but you still do kinda scare me–"he whines"–hey...!"
this time, you're smiling widely as you press your forehead up against his, and you like how you can kind of see yourself in his eyes.
"do you love me?" he whispers, hands smoothening over your waist as he holds you there.
with a grin, you nod, "of course, i love you."
"even when i'm moody?" he raises a brow, yet, it's like he knows the answer, he just wants to hear it.
with a wider smile and a light kiss to his nose, you nod again, as if you know he knows, but you're there to prove it each time: "even when you're moody."
