[yawnzzyn]

𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚 ﹏ 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐨𝐧𝐞 ﹏ 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 love!! love!! love!! pls read!! masterlist !! @yawnzzyn-reads !!

notice: send an ask (with group name) to be in the taglist <3

what to expect? drabbles, timestamps, headcanons, short fics!

reqs: open ! however i can't guarantee a schedule (pls read guide)

[yawnzzyn]

VIE

that's meeeeeee!!

[yawnzzyn]

MARK LEE LEFT NEOCITY?????????

[yawnzzyn]

the way my brain still short circuits with every new recent riki update bc in my heart of hearts that's my lil bro he's still shorter than me and his voice still cracks awkwardly and he's funky goofy and i affectionately bite the top of his head. and then i get slapped by whatever he's turned into

[yawnzzyn]

hey lol 🌚

this is an inside joke only inside jokers would insunderstand

[yawnzzyn]

bruhh rewatching the fever dp and it feels wrong like the choreo they had minors n barely adults doing??

[yawnzzyn]

7:45 in the morning what a good time to be laughing a bella where the hell have yew been loca

[yawnzzyn]

sigh i can't believe woonhak is 20 this year?? bubu has been 17 forever in my head but i just came across an edit and was GOBSMACKED

[yawnzzyn]

i have the FUNNIEST most unhinged thristy short drabble idea in my head about sunoo titled "my gf won't let me wear compression shirts outside" jshjshsjs

[yawnzzyn]

what would you like to see more of in terms of writing?

[yawnzzyn]

☆ 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.

[ ﹏ p l a y l i s t : d r a b b l e s ! ]

[ ﹏ a r t i s t : n r k ! ]

[ ﹏ l y r i c s : he is the only cure to your sleepless nights ☆ bf!ni-ki x insomniac!reader — 0.882k words fluff insomnia comfort]

[ ﹏ n o t i c e : send an ask (with group name) to be in the taglist & reblogs are suuuper appreciated !! tagged: @eyeslikedracula ]

“can’t sleep?” riki crouches by your bedside, brushing the strands of hair away from your eyes. the white noise machine he’d gifted you ages ago has long since stopped working, much to your boyfriend’s dismay. you still turn it on anyway to keep you company. it’s difficult, trying to force yourself to sleep on your own when he’s not here to keep you sane.

practice had run late as it often does during comeback preparation days, not that you ever fault him but he feels guilty returning to a quiet, tense home anyways. sleep is a sensitive subject for you, he knows. you’re often up at ungodly hours sipping a calming tea under the lone kitchen light when he feels your absence in the bed, waking up to keep you company despite his weary bones. riki is aware, just how much it frustrates you to the point of tears at times. he’s memorized the way your eyes look helplessly at him when you’ve gone another week with barely any rest, mentally and physically.

the blanket is pulled up to your chin, the heater set on low to keep the bedroom at a cooler temperature hoping it helps your body get into flight mode. your boyfriend presses a kiss between your brows, smoothing out your frown. the dim light from the hallway enters through the half open door. you can see a pain relief patch peeking under his collar.

“you’re tired, come rest.” you pat the open space beside you, pulling the blanket down to accommodate him. he smiles, pushing himself up to place his belongings by the closet. “hold on, I’ll be back soon.”

you turn to face his side of the bed, fingers lazily tracing the patterns on the sheets while riki gets himself ready to slip next to you. he shortly arrives with two cups of warm chamomile tea, a book tucked under his arm. you perk up at the sight of your favorite novel he’s picked up from the living room. settling on the bed, he leans his back against the headboard, pulling the blanket up to his waist. you sit up to tuck yourself into his side, weaseling your way between his arm and torso. he smells fresh, hair slightly damp from the quick shower he took beforehand.

“does your shoulder still hurt?” you ask, cheeks smushed against his soft t-shirt.

he hums, sipping on his mug. “it did ache for a bit, but I’m okay now.”

his one arm wraps around you to keep you secure. he puts his mug down, urging you to sip on yours before it cools down too much. a short conversation about your days later, having finished your tea, he reaches for the book he’d set on the bedside table. with you in his embrace, he holds the book open with both hands, allowing you to peer at the pages if you’d like to. riki flips through the pages, “where did we stop last time?”

“chapter three, I think. that’s the last chapter I remember.”

right, you’d managed to doze off pretty early into the reading session. this is your ideal night routine, all snuggled up and listening to your boyfriend’s low voice soothing you into sleep, reading your favorite story for you out loud until you felt all of your worries flowing away. riki adores how this is one of the only things that can put you quickly at ease. you’d once told him that before you were together, you’d put on audiobooks or history asmr channels to help you sleep. if nothing, they’d still keep you entertained and keep your mind off how frustrated you were. 

since then, so long as your schedules were timed correctly, he’d read back your favorite books to you in bed. without fail you’ll look up at him with the softest eyes and he’ll melt in them every single time. he’ll kiss you goodnight on both eyelids, telling you to keep them closed and just try to relax now. you have a collection of long voice notes he’d sent during his concert tours in case your timezones were too different and he couldn’t call you and talk you to sleep. there are a few where the guys had walked in while he talked into his phone’s speakers by himself and they’d coo at their youngest affectionately. they’d send you their warmest regards and leave him be afterwards. it makes you smile every time the others show their love towards your favourite person.

tonight, riki softly narrates two long chapters before he feels you nodding off, hand going slack on his lap. “i guess that’s it for now, huh?” he mutters to himself, sighing in relief. he adjusts the arm around you to place his palm gently behind your head, rhythmically smoothing over your hair as gently as he can. turning off the nightlamp, you stay like this for a small while. he focuses on your breathing, counting the seconds between each inhale and exhale like he always does. once he is sure you’re not going to easily wake up, he’ll slide both of you down into a more comfortable sleeping position.

“i hope you have nice dreams, sweetheart.” you nuzzle into his neck, body seeking his warmth instinctively. he smiles, content. 

“goodnight.”

[yawnzzyn]

happy first 1k!! thank you to everyone who followed from this fic <3

[yawnzzyn]

enha will always be seven fyi

[yawnzzyn]

the concept of being platonic soulmates with riki but he's younger

[yawnzzyn]

☆ 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.

[ ﹏ p l a y l i s t : d r a b b l e s ! ]

[ ﹏ a r t i s t : n r k ! ]

[ ﹏ l y r i c s : he is the only cure to your sleepless nights ☆ bf!ni-ki x insomniac!reader — 0.882k words fluff insomnia comfort]

[ ﹏ n o t i c e : send an ask (with group name) to be in the taglist & reblogs are suuuper appreciated !! tagged: @eyeslikedracula ]

“can’t sleep?” riki crouches by your bedside, brushing the strands of hair away from your eyes. the white noise machine he’d gifted you ages ago has long since stopped working, much to your boyfriend’s dismay. you still turn it on anyway to keep you company. it’s difficult, trying to force yourself to sleep on your own when he’s not here to keep you sane.

practice had run late as it often does during comeback preparation days, not that you ever fault him but he feels guilty returning to a quiet, tense home anyways. sleep is a sensitive subject for you, he knows. you’re often up at ungodly hours sipping a calming tea under the lone kitchen light when he feels your absence in the bed, waking up to keep you company despite his weary bones. riki is aware, just how much it frustrates you to the point of tears at times. he’s memorized the way your eyes look helplessly at him when you’ve gone another week with barely any rest, mentally and physically.

the blanket is pulled up to your chin, the heater set on low to keep the bedroom at a cooler temperature hoping it helps your body get into flight mode. your boyfriend presses a kiss between your brows, smoothing out your frown. the dim light from the hallway enters through the half open door. you can see a pain relief patch peeking under his collar.

“you’re tired, come rest.” you pat the open space beside you, pulling the blanket down to accommodate him. he smiles, pushing himself up to place his belongings by the closet. “hold on, I’ll be back soon.”

you turn to face his side of the bed, fingers lazily tracing the patterns on the sheets while riki gets himself ready to slip next to you. he shortly arrives with two cups of warm chamomile tea, a book tucked under his arm. you perk up at the sight of your favorite novel he’s picked up from the living room. settling on the bed, he leans his back against the headboard, pulling the blanket up to his waist. you sit up to tuck yourself into his side, weaseling your way between his arm and torso. he smells fresh, hair slightly damp from the quick shower he took beforehand.

“does your shoulder still hurt?” you ask, cheeks smushed against his soft t-shirt.

he hums, sipping on his mug. “it did ache for a bit, but I’m okay now.”

his one arm wraps around you to keep you secure. he puts his mug down, urging you to sip on yours before it cools down too much. a short conversation about your days later, having finished your tea, he reaches for the book he’d set on the bedside table. with you in his embrace, he holds the book open with both hands, allowing you to peer at the pages if you’d like to. riki flips through the pages, “where did we stop last time?”

“chapter three, I think. that’s the last chapter I remember.”

right, you’d managed to doze off pretty early into the reading session. this is your ideal night routine, all snuggled up and listening to your boyfriend’s low voice soothing you into sleep, reading your favorite story for you out loud until you felt all of your worries flowing away. riki adores how this is one of the only things that can put you quickly at ease. you’d once told him that before you were together, you’d put on audiobooks or history asmr channels to help you sleep. if nothing, they’d still keep you entertained and keep your mind off how frustrated you were. 

since then, so long as your schedules were timed correctly, he’d read back your favorite books to you in bed. without fail you’ll look up at him with the softest eyes and he’ll melt in them every single time. he’ll kiss you goodnight on both eyelids, telling you to keep them closed and just try to relax now. you have a collection of long voice notes he’d sent during his concert tours in case your timezones were too different and he couldn’t call you and talk you to sleep. there are a few where the guys had walked in while he talked into his phone’s speakers by himself and they’d coo at their youngest affectionately. they’d send you their warmest regards and leave him be afterwards. it makes you smile every time the others show their love towards your favourite person.

tonight, riki softly narrates two long chapters before he feels you nodding off, hand going slack on his lap. “i guess that’s it for now, huh?” he mutters to himself, sighing in relief. he adjusts the arm around you to place his palm gently behind your head, rhythmically smoothing over your hair as gently as he can. turning off the nightlamp, you stay like this for a small while. he focuses on your breathing, counting the seconds between each inhale and exhale like he always does. once he is sure you’re not going to easily wake up, he’ll slide both of you down into a more comfortable sleeping position.

“i hope you have nice dreams, sweetheart.” you nuzzle into his neck, body seeking his warmth instinctively. he smiles, content. 

“goodnight.”

[yawnzzyn]

you would think being a hobby writer would help me write my uni essays quicker but no it's just making things harder lol i got used to writing stuff whenever im in just the right mood that now my brain can't push thru and produce words ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ

[yawnzzyn]

☆ 𝐈𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐁.

[ ﹏ p l a y l i s t : f i c s ! ]

[ ﹏ a r t i s t : p s h ! ]

[ ﹏ l y r i c s : growing up unloved alters your perception of physical touch and sungho is there to patiently teach you how to be loved for the first time ☆ sungho x touch starved!reader — 2.401k words hurt/comfort more than friends, less than lovers tw childhood neglect implied abuse themes of mental health]

[ ﹏ n o t i c e : send an ask (with group name) to be in the taglist & reblogs are suuuper appreciated !! ]

it’s been two years into your friendship, and three years since sungho has first seen you. within the first few weeks of being aware of your existence, he’d already noticed your lack of initiation when it came to any sort of physical contact. the way you’d wrap your arms around yourself during social events, shying away from hugs unless necessary, lips pulled into a thin smile whenever an arm was slung around your shoulder haphazardly. sungho is observant, he cares about people in a way that makes him fit himself around them in the way they’re most comfortable with.

you look away when people open their arms in a greeting, unable to look at mothers smothering their children in kisses whenever you pass them by. he’s never gotten an answer to why you distance yourself from others. at least, not an answer that satisfies him. you lie, quite often at that. sometimes you linger by the door a moment too long, at times you’re distracted by your friends’ interlocked hands, eyes glazed over as though you’re lost in your innermost thoughts.

sungho concludes that you’re not affectionate person by nurture, not nature. the tension in your shoulders, the way you curl into yourself is not an act of defense, but a reflection of your loss. you don’t mention your parents much, nor do your siblings come up in conversations you lead. memories left mostly untold, certain topics untouched even after being friends for years.

so when you arrive at the park near his apartment pleading for him to come down and see you, fingers playing with the fabric of your pants, he listens. the streetlights aren’t as warm as they used to be, neither is the weather. temperatures had started to go down recently. you’re in a jacket you’d thrown on haphazardly, he’s in a well-loved hoodie you’d gifted him a year ago (merch from an artist he adored). you’re trembling, barely tamping down the hysterical laughing fit he knows you get when you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“breathe, lovely. it’s alright.” he searches your eyes for signs of trouble, hands hesitating to reach out and pulling you into his chest. not yet, not yet, he thinks. you’re breathing in slowly from your nose, exhaling after a few seconds to calm yourself down the way you’d been taught to years ago.

you refuse his offer to sit down on the bench, limbs locked in their place from what you’re about to ask of him. “i,” you sigh, “i am so mortified, you don’t even understand.”

he chuckles, “you never have to feel embarrassed in front of me, you know that by now, don’t you? i swear i’m not going to laugh or whatever, but i am beginning to feel concerned. are you doin’ okay?”

“i just wanted to ask for something real quick.” you fall into a ramble even you don’t understand. it’s hard to make sense of your words when you’re stumbling over every sentence you try to begin but fail to complete. you stutter, hide behind your hands, palms covering your eyes. your sight has gone blurry from the tears you refuse to shed and your breath hitches when he gently wraps his hands around your fingers, bringing them down from your face.

sungho’s hair looks soft as always, perfectly untouched. his brows pull together gently, eyes scanning your expression, face mirroring your own. heartbroken, lost, and scared. “i’m not going to judge you, i swear. what’s making you this nervous?”

“i never asked for this before, you know? it’s so hard to get the words out, because i feel like i will die the moment i do.” you laugh, just so tired and broken, staring at the hands overlapping yours. it’s all too much now standing in front of him, but if you back down again for the fifth time, you will lose all hope for yourself.

“i understand, however,” he squeezes your hands, “you’re completely safe and whatever you’re trying to ask for, i promise i will try my best to fulfill. you just have to throw it out and trust that i’ll catch it, okay?”

“god,” you throw your head back, blinking away the moisture gathered on your lashes, “i don’t deserve you and i am so sorry for taking up your time like this. i feel so stupid and dumb and—”

“hey,” he interrupts you gently, “enough with that. those aren’t true at all. you don’t get to talk like that about the most amazing person i kno—”

“can i please have a hug?”

your hands have retreated back to your sides, pressed tightly to yourself to take up as little space as possible. you’re lightheaded and feeling weak all of a sudden, the question you let slip away from you too heavy to take responsibility over. this isn’t you, never has been. you’re not one to ask for anything, let alone for love and yet here you are, crumbling under the pressure of vulnerability like no other. 

you’re trembling in front of sungho and his entire world comes crashing down. it’s agony, having the person he loves the most in this world shivering at the prospect of some affection. you’re starving for what should be a given and sungho’s soul is crushed. all this time he’d waited for you to come to him, but he never expected to have his breath sucked out of him the moment you do. he never expected to hurt this much. to feel a squeeze in his heart when you tell him that in over twenty years of life, this is the first time you’d let yourself want something this miniscule for yourself.

sungho blinks, shoulders sagging in relief. finally, he can show you. after so long, you’re finally allowing him to show you warmth and safety in a language so familiar to him, and yet completely foreign to you. you’re letting him speak in a new language with you and opening the door to parts of you he’s wanted to care for since the day he’s fallen head over heels in love with you. 

sungho breathes, mustering up the will not to fall apart in front of you when you need him to be your safe space right now. you look at him like you’ve unraveled the worst version of yourself— like you’re terrified he’ll see you as the broken person you believe you are. the cool breeze on his face brings him back to where he stands under the light and you are just a step away.

“oh, my darling,” he fondly smiles, eyes crinkling the way you oh so adore, swallowing the lump in his throat, “any time you need.”

you don’t have to take the first step, oh no. sungho crosses the invisible line you keep yourself behind before you can even reply. the fabric of his hoodie is cool against your cheeks— that’s the first thing you feel. pulled tightly against his chest, his hand cradling your head and an arm holding you safely around your waist. you’re in awe, he can tell. frozen in his warm embrace, unable to work out what to do. out of practice, inexperienced in the ways of love and all the ways it is expressed.

his hand smooths over your hair, arm wrapping you even closer to him. “you don’t even have to ask. i’d give you my body and soul in a heartbeat, do you understand? you don’t ever have to feel sorry for asking for love, okay? that’s what i am here for, to give my all for you.”

he is so close you can feel his heart beating erratically against yours and god, is this how everyone else feels on a regular basis? it feels so forbidden, against everything you’ve ever been shown and taught your whole life. it’s hard taking everything in, you’re pretty sure you’ve stopped breathing altogether. nothing is making sense and yet never has anything ever felt this right. it’s humiliating and liberating, an eruption of chaos in your very existence itself.

“i know, i know. i’m sor—” you stop yourself before sungho can. right, no apologies.

he presses a chaste kiss on your temple, molding himself to your every need. he hasn’t let go yet, not until you want him to. not until you tell him you’ve had enough. slowly, after what had felt like eternity, you bring your arms to wrap around his waist, hesitating before clasping your hands firmly together around his back. you feel his chest swell, deflating slowly with a sigh of relief. “i got you, sweetheart. you’re alright.”

his voice is thick with emotion.

finally, you’re letting him in. finally, you’re letting him love you the way he desperately wants to. finally, you’re letting him show you the warmth you’ve missed out on. finally, you’re letting him wrap his arms around the world— his world— and finally, you’re giving him the chance to become everything you need him to be.

it's not cold anymore. sure, the air is crisp and your clothes are nowhere near enough to protect you against the night and sure, the leaves have fallen lifeless, but no matter. for the first time in your life, you feel alive. the hollowness in your chest suddenly feels whole and somehow, somehow, the weariness that felt eternally infused to your bones has melted away. a lifetime of loneliness you thought you'd never be rid from now a memory of the past.

every wound you have ever sustained, every scar tingling and screaming now wrapped up and tended to. everything that's ever hurt you has somehow ended up in the farthest place of your mind. every battle you've ever fought, won and lost against now but a distant thought, something you can barely remember in the comfort of sungho’s hold.

the trees have shed their leaves, ready for the coming winter to pass by in hopes of new beginnings— of new life. you hold onto sungho tighter, afraid to let go. scared, terrified even, to face the world on your own once more. to have to lose your mind and fight against every bad thought by yourself. sungho is the single thing protecting you against yourself, such is the irony.

“i got you." he gently rubs your back, swaying your bodies mindlessly in a slow rhythm. "you are allowed to want hugs and you are allowed to want affection, do you understand? that's not a bad thing at all. you are deserving of unconditional love. there is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“i never learned how to." you mutter, ashamed of the person you have become. now that you've shown him how weak you actually are, you wonder if he thinks you're pathetic despite everything he has said so far. you wonder if he's just saying things because he's nice like that. because he is sungho and in your three years of knowing him you've never seen him break another's heart, willingly or not.

i never learned how to. sungho's hand stills, then clenches into a fist, hovering behind your head. never learned how to ask? never learned how to accept? never learned that you deserve everything a person can possibly give from themselves and more? his expression tightens.

he loosens his grip on you, heart breaking when he cups your jaw in both hands to peer into your eyes. you've quickly let go of him as well, suddenly self-conscious. your eyelids flutter abashedly, finding his shoes more interesting than his furrowed brows. 

“look at me," he pleads. 

“please," sungho lowers his head, searching for the light in your eyes, “if you would just listen to me for a second, sweetheart." 

you cave in, hearing the softness in his voice you always fall into. this close and contained in his palms, you can hear every word he yearns to say but doesn't. not yet, not yet. you have always known that he's waiting for you. to let him know that you're ready for everything he could ever give you if you just asked for it. he's waiting for you, you know that. it haunts your nights well into your days, knowing that the person of your dreams you'd barely allowed yourself to conjure up is willing to wait for someone as undeserving as yourself.

for two years now, you've kept him at arm’s distance and now he's taken you into his, telling you that you are his whole world. that everything you've ever been taught about yourself were lies. that all the things you'd believed to be true about yourself have been false all along. 

resentment festers deep within your stomach. you were a child. a child. alone and fending for yourself along the whole way into adulthood, no one to trust or to lean on. life could have been so different. you could have been normal, for god’s sake. but normal wouldn't have brought sungho to you. not like this, not this devotedly. not this wholeheartedly. not this sincerely.

“listen to me and listen well, okay? i need you to believe the words that are going to come out of my mouth. i mean them from the bottom of my heart and it's about time you start doing the same." 

you nod, distrustful of your voice.

“you are wonderful. you are kind. you are thoughtful. you are smart. you are beautiful. you are an amazing person. you are a dream dressed as a human being and you are so, so precious. to me and all those people around you now. but you, most important of all, should be precious to yourself. you are loved, believe this. you deserve kindness, and affection. you don't have to earn it from anyone in any way. you don't have to perform for it, nor should you ever conform to anyone's standards and expectations in order to be appreciated for who you are. you are loved, not in spite of who you are, but exactly because of who you are.”

sungho knows that it will take time to change your mind about yourself, but he has waited for years already and sungho is nothing if not a man of patience and pure love for you. what's another couple of whatevers? you can take all the time you need in this life, he will still love you in all the ones afterwards. 

[yawnzzyn]

☆ 𝐈𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐁.

[ ﹏ p l a y l i s t : f i c s ! ]

[ ﹏ a r t i s t : p s h ! ]

[ ﹏ l y r i c s : growing up unloved alters your perception of physical touch and sungho is there to patiently teach you how to be loved for the first time ☆ sungho x touch starved!reader — 2.401k words hurt/comfort more than friends, less than lovers tw childhood neglect implied abuse themes of mental health]

[ ﹏ n o t i c e : send an ask (with group name) to be in the taglist & reblogs are suuuper appreciated !! ]

it’s been two years into your friendship, and three years since sungho has first seen you. within the first few weeks of being aware of your existence, he’d already noticed your lack of initiation when it came to any sort of physical contact. the way you’d wrap your arms around yourself during social events, shying away from hugs unless necessary, lips pulled into a thin smile whenever an arm was slung around your shoulder haphazardly. sungho is observant, he cares about people in a way that makes him fit himself around them in the way they’re most comfortable with.

you look away when people open their arms in a greeting, unable to look at mothers smothering their children in kisses whenever you pass them by. he’s never gotten an answer to why you distance yourself from others. at least, not an answer that satisfies him. you lie, quite often at that. sometimes you linger by the door a moment too long, at times you’re distracted by your friends’ interlocked hands, eyes glazed over as though you’re lost in your innermost thoughts.

sungho concludes that you’re not affectionate person by nurture, not nature. the tension in your shoulders, the way you curl into yourself is not an act of defense, but a reflection of your loss. you don’t mention your parents much, nor do your siblings come up in conversations you lead. memories left mostly untold, certain topics untouched even after being friends for years.

so when you arrive at the park near his apartment pleading for him to come down and see you, fingers playing with the fabric of your pants, he listens. the streetlights aren’t as warm as they used to be, neither is the weather. temperatures had started to go down recently. you’re in a jacket you’d thrown on haphazardly, he’s in a well-loved hoodie you’d gifted him a year ago (merch from an artist he adored). you’re trembling, barely tamping down the hysterical laughing fit he knows you get when you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“breathe, lovely. it’s alright.” he searches your eyes for signs of trouble, hands hesitating to reach out and pulling you into his chest. not yet, not yet, he thinks. you’re breathing in slowly from your nose, exhaling after a few seconds to calm yourself down the way you’d been taught to years ago.

you refuse his offer to sit down on the bench, limbs locked in their place from what you’re about to ask of him. “i,” you sigh, “i am so mortified, you don’t even understand.”

he chuckles, “you never have to feel embarrassed in front of me, you know that by now, don’t you? i swear i’m not going to laugh or whatever, but i am beginning to feel concerned. are you doin’ okay?”

“i just wanted to ask for something real quick.” you fall into a ramble even you don’t understand. it’s hard to make sense of your words when you’re stumbling over every sentence you try to begin but fail to complete. you stutter, hide behind your hands, palms covering your eyes. your sight has gone blurry from the tears you refuse to shed and your breath hitches when he gently wraps his hands around your fingers, bringing them down from your face.

sungho’s hair looks soft as always, perfectly untouched. his brows pull together gently, eyes scanning your expression, face mirroring your own. heartbroken, lost, and scared. “i’m not going to judge you, i swear. what’s making you this nervous?”

“i never asked for this before, you know? it’s so hard to get the words out, because i feel like i will die the moment i do.” you laugh, just so tired and broken, staring at the hands overlapping yours. it’s all too much now standing in front of him, but if you back down again for the fifth time, you will lose all hope for yourself.

“i understand, however,” he squeezes your hands, “you’re completely safe and whatever you’re trying to ask for, i promise i will try my best to fulfill. you just have to throw it out and trust that i’ll catch it, okay?”

“god,” you throw your head back, blinking away the moisture gathered on your lashes, “i don’t deserve you and i am so sorry for taking up your time like this. i feel so stupid and dumb and—”

“hey,” he interrupts you gently, “enough with that. those aren’t true at all. you don’t get to talk like that about the most amazing person i kno—”

“can i please have a hug?”

your hands have retreated back to your sides, pressed tightly to yourself to take up as little space as possible. you’re lightheaded and feeling weak all of a sudden, the question you let slip away from you too heavy to take responsibility over. this isn’t you, never has been. you’re not one to ask for anything, let alone for love and yet here you are, crumbling under the pressure of vulnerability like no other. 

you’re trembling in front of sungho and his entire world comes crashing down. it’s agony, having the person he loves the most in this world shivering at the prospect of some affection. you’re starving for what should be a given and sungho’s soul is crushed. all this time he’d waited for you to come to him, but he never expected to have his breath sucked out of him the moment you do. he never expected to hurt this much. to feel a squeeze in his heart when you tell him that in over twenty years of life, this is the first time you’d let yourself want something this miniscule for yourself.

sungho blinks, shoulders sagging in relief. finally, he can show you. after so long, you’re finally allowing him to show you warmth and safety in a language so familiar to him, and yet completely foreign to you. you’re letting him speak in a new language with you and opening the door to parts of you he’s wanted to care for since the day he’s fallen head over heels in love with you. 

sungho breathes, mustering up the will not to fall apart in front of you when you need him to be your safe space right now. you look at him like you’ve unraveled the worst version of yourself— like you’re terrified he’ll see you as the broken person you believe you are. the cool breeze on his face brings him back to where he stands under the light and you are just a step away.

“oh, my darling,” he fondly smiles, eyes crinkling the way you oh so adore, swallowing the lump in his throat, “any time you need.”

you don’t have to take the first step, oh no. sungho crosses the invisible line you keep yourself behind before you can even reply. the fabric of his hoodie is cool against your cheeks— that’s the first thing you feel. pulled tightly against his chest, his hand cradling your head and an arm holding you safely around your waist. you’re in awe, he can tell. frozen in his warm embrace, unable to work out what to do. out of practice, inexperienced in the ways of love and all the ways it is expressed.

his hand smooths over your hair, arm wrapping you even closer to him. “you don’t even have to ask. i’d give you my body and soul in a heartbeat, do you understand? you don’t ever have to feel sorry for asking for love, okay? that’s what i am here for, to give my all for you.”

he is so close you can feel his heart beating erratically against yours and god, is this how everyone else feels on a regular basis? it feels so forbidden, against everything you’ve ever been shown and taught your whole life. it’s hard taking everything in, you’re pretty sure you’ve stopped breathing altogether. nothing is making sense and yet never has anything ever felt this right. it’s humiliating and liberating, an eruption of chaos in your very existence itself.

“i know, i know. i’m sor—” you stop yourself before sungho can. right, no apologies.

he presses a chaste kiss on your temple, molding himself to your every need. he hasn’t let go yet, not until you want him to. not until you tell him you’ve had enough. slowly, after what had felt like eternity, you bring your arms to wrap around his waist, hesitating before clasping your hands firmly together around his back. you feel his chest swell, deflating slowly with a sigh of relief. “i got you, sweetheart. you’re alright.”

his voice is thick with emotion.

finally, you’re letting him in. finally, you’re letting him love you the way he desperately wants to. finally, you’re letting him show you the warmth you’ve missed out on. finally, you’re letting him wrap his arms around the world— his world— and finally, you’re giving him the chance to become everything you need him to be.

it's not cold anymore. sure, the air is crisp and your clothes are nowhere near enough to protect you against the night and sure, the leaves have fallen lifeless, but no matter. for the first time in your life, you feel alive. the hollowness in your chest suddenly feels whole and somehow, somehow, the weariness that felt eternally infused to your bones has melted away. a lifetime of loneliness you thought you'd never be rid from now a memory of the past.

every wound you have ever sustained, every scar tingling and screaming now wrapped up and tended to. everything that's ever hurt you has somehow ended up in the farthest place of your mind. every battle you've ever fought, won and lost against now but a distant thought, something you can barely remember in the comfort of sungho’s hold.

the trees have shed their leaves, ready for the coming winter to pass by in hopes of new beginnings— of new life. you hold onto sungho tighter, afraid to let go. scared, terrified even, to face the world on your own once more. to have to lose your mind and fight against every bad thought by yourself. sungho is the single thing protecting you against yourself, such is the irony.

“i got you." he gently rubs your back, swaying your bodies mindlessly in a slow rhythm. "you are allowed to want hugs and you are allowed to want affection, do you understand? that's not a bad thing at all. you are deserving of unconditional love. there is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“i never learned how to." you mutter, ashamed of the person you have become. now that you've shown him how weak you actually are, you wonder if he thinks you're pathetic despite everything he has said so far. you wonder if he's just saying things because he's nice like that. because he is sungho and in your three years of knowing him you've never seen him break another's heart, willingly or not.

i never learned how to. sungho's hand stills, then clenches into a fist, hovering behind your head. never learned how to ask? never learned how to accept? never learned that you deserve everything a person can possibly give from themselves and more? his expression tightens.

he loosens his grip on you, heart breaking when he cups your jaw in both hands to peer into your eyes. you've quickly let go of him as well, suddenly self-conscious. your eyelids flutter abashedly, finding his shoes more interesting than his furrowed brows. 

“look at me," he pleads. 

“please," sungho lowers his head, searching for the light in your eyes, “if you would just listen to me for a second, sweetheart." 

you cave in, hearing the softness in his voice you always fall into. this close and contained in his palms, you can hear every word he yearns to say but doesn't. not yet, not yet. you have always known that he's waiting for you. to let him know that you're ready for everything he could ever give you if you just asked for it. he's waiting for you, you know that. it haunts your nights well into your days, knowing that the person of your dreams you'd barely allowed yourself to conjure up is willing to wait for someone as undeserving as yourself.

for two years now, you've kept him at arm’s distance and now he's taken you into his, telling you that you are his whole world. that everything you've ever been taught about yourself were lies. that all the things you'd believed to be true about yourself have been false all along. 

resentment festers deep within your stomach. you were a child. a child. alone and fending for yourself along the whole way into adulthood, no one to trust or to lean on. life could have been so different. you could have been normal, for god’s sake. but normal wouldn't have brought sungho to you. not like this, not this devotedly. not this wholeheartedly. not this sincerely.

“listen to me and listen well, okay? i need you to believe the words that are going to come out of my mouth. i mean them from the bottom of my heart and it's about time you start doing the same." 

you nod, distrustful of your voice.

“you are wonderful. you are kind. you are thoughtful. you are smart. you are beautiful. you are an amazing person. you are a dream dressed as a human being and you are so, so precious. to me and all those people around you now. but you, most important of all, should be precious to yourself. you are loved, believe this. you deserve kindness, and affection. you don't have to earn it from anyone in any way. you don't have to perform for it, nor should you ever conform to anyone's standards and expectations in order to be appreciated for who you are. you are loved, not in spite of who you are, but exactly because of who you are.”

sungho knows that it will take time to change your mind about yourself, but he has waited for years already and sungho is nothing if not a man of patience and pure love for you. what's another couple of whatevers? you can take all the time you need in this life, he will still love you in all the ones afterwards.