Enhacolor - 🧸

pairing: s.coups x reader warning: character death, unknown illness, which both spell heavy angst. barely any smut but just in case this is rated pg-13. lowercase intended. not proofread because i wrote this in like half an hour.

-

in the morning

-

it's funny how life gets violently put into perspective when you discover you have a deadline.

"three months," your doctor says morosely. it goes unsaid that he means, you have three months to live.

your fingers turn cold, your throat becomes dry.

what do i do now?

-

you call one of your oldest friends, and you meet for coffee. you tell him what the doctor told you, and you ask him for a favor.

jihoon takes you in with sad, wet eyes, and hears your request. "are you sure?"

you nod, fingers curling into a fist. "yeah. i... he should..." you choose your words carefully. "i don't want what happened to be the end of us. i..." you swallow, "it shouldn't end this way."

he understands and reaches for his phone.

-

anger, frustration, sadness. it's all in his eyes.

"when did you find out?" seungcheol asks, his lip trembling.

you deliver the news as if your life wasn't hanging in the balance. "three weeks ago."

he runs a hand through his face, clearly frazzled. "three months? i—" he takes a deep breath and looks you straight in the eye. "why tell me?"

the question makes your eyes water, for the first time since you heard the news. you supposed repeating it over and over again to the people who matter has made you numb, but you suppose you're a fool to think that anything that had anything to do with choi seungcheol wouldn't strip you bare and turn you inside out.

tears slip down your cheeks, and you can't bring yourself to speak. all you do is catch your face in your hands and sob.

his arms are warm around you.

-

the sting of a reopened old wound is something you will never get used to.

i was wrong. i treated you poorly. i should have been more honest. i should have never said those things. did reasons even matter when time was so precious?

but you need to talk about it, so you do. seungcheol's tears mirror your own as you hold him close, his litany of apologies weighing down your chest. you kiss him to silence him, and he understands.

you both shouldn't be looking for forgiveness.

there's not enough time.

-

the first month together is fine. relearning him is easier since this wasn't new to you; all the unlearning you did at the (apparently temporary) death of your relationship barely helped, because it's like you never broke up.

his body feels the same, the way he fills you feels even better. the way his fingers brush over your skin is familiar and the way his lips press over yours is incredible. you're naked in bed most of the time, and who can blame two reunited lovers?

his smiles are warm and kind and his laughs are rich and hearty, his touch his charged and wanting and his kisses are loving and heated.

it's like nothing has ever been wrong.

and it is, until you drop your fork and can't pick it up no matter how hard you try.

-

you're weakening, but the three months doesn't claim you.

four months, you count silently, looking out the window. your hair is thinner so is your frame, but you can still move, at least for the most part. it's more than what you could ask for.

the door to your apartment opens and closes, and you turn to greet seungcheol.

you don't miss that his smile is strained.

-

"it's hard to love a dying person!" he yells, and you almost can't believe that he said those words to you. the regret is immediate on his face, but you don't notice it through your blurry vision and the sound of your heart breaking.

you fall to your knees, apologies streaming from your lips. i'm sorry. i'm sorry i'm sick. i'm sorry i'm doing this to you. i'm sorry you have to go through this. please just leave me.

he doesn't. he cries and cries and cries, next to you on the floor, repeating your same prayer. i'm sorry. i'm sorry i said that. i'm sorry i'm hurting you. i'm sorry i'm not a better person.

you think that maybe both of you just carries each other's regrets in your hearts.

-

the stress is getting to him, he explains when you're both calmer and more willing to understand. he loves you, he truly does. but he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"what if i wake one morning," he says, voice rough with pain, "and you don't?"

his plight is darkening the circles beneath his eyes and tiring him out.

you swallow and nod. you understand.

"maybe," you whisper, "maybe you should leave me now. before that morning comes."

seungcheol shakes his head and kisses you silent.

-

the problem refuses to be ignored.

you feel like an invalid in your bed, seungcheol attending to your every need. he fetches you food and water, holds your hand as you hobble to the bathroom, wipes away your tears as you cry about he doesn't deserve it.

"i don't want that morning to come," you sob. your hand tries to reach for his, but your muscles refuse to move. he meets you half way, and you try to squeeze any part you can reach. your fingers brush against his palm.

"you don't get to decide that," he tells you patiently, delicately lacing your fingers together.

you cry harder.

-

no matter how much it hurts to see your life being drained away from you, seungcheol cannot leave.

he hears you try to say something, but your mouth is failing you. groans slip past your lips, and tears fall from your eyes. it hurts to look at you, once so vibrant, but he refuses to lean away from every possible moment.

it's one of the few he has left.

he understands, though. i love you.

he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. his cheeks are cold with tears. he thinks you can feel them against your skin. "i love you, too."

-

each night, seungcheol lays beside you, arms wrapped around you. he speaks into your hair about everything and anything—how he spent his nights while you were together, while you were apart. how his friends were doing. how your friends were doing. how your family was. the book he read recently.

you start with conversation until it dwindles down to nods and gentle sighs, and soon you can barely respond. seungcheol presses his lips together and wills himself to not cry.

you don't need tears. not now.

he kisses your hair, as he's done every night before you fall asleep. "i'll see you in the morning, my love," he says softly.

he knows he won't.

-

in another universe, he likes to think that your days aren't numbered. he likes to think that you'll find humor in the sunlight kissing your face and making your eyelids wrinkle so early in the morning. he likes to think you have more time to do as you please.

he likes to think of you at your happiest, with your bright smile and open heart. he likes to think that your biggest problems are found in the everyday minutia. he likes to think he'd be beside you, loving you through it all.

he likes to think that past few months were just a bad dream. in another universe, maybe it is.

but in this one, he'll choose to remember you at your happiest.

omg hiii idk if you'll remember me but I sent that one junhui req of him anonymously sending little gifts!!

anyway back with more jun, aka jun drunk confession bc A. they hits a soft spot in me and B. I feel like he deserves one or deserves to give one (your choice😌)

pairing: wjh x reader (gn)

tags: alcohol, drunk character, food | f2l, angst

wc: 800

a/n: omg hi anon!! of course, I remember you!! I know it's been MONTHS since you sent this ask so tysm for waiting this long (but it's oki if you forgot about this 😭). I hope life is treating you well and everything is going well for you.

He arrives home at around ten, happily singing “I’m home,” knowing that you’re the type of person to worry about him if he tells you he will be out late. And he hates seeing you sit in bed, eyebrows furrowed, and never able to sleep unless you know that your best friend is okay. So he hopes his little greeting can soothe your restless soul before you finally fall asleep.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, but not without stumbling around a lot, he hugs his plastic bag of convenience store snacks close to his chest. Because even drunk Jun, giggly and head-empty drunk Jun, would still go out of his way to go to the convenience store near his job to grab some items as you are the only person on his mind. And he drops the bag on the kitchen counter, flinching when he hears the crash and clang of the two aluminum cider cans against the granite countertop.

But home is dark, and the crashing sound of the bag against the counter echoes in the space it occupies. Maybe there is the echo of the leaky bathroom sink faucet you keep hounding him to get fixed or the occasional murmur from the television of the old couple next door, but tonight, Wen Junhui hears nothing. And it’s only when he finishes taking the contents out of his plastic bag that he realizes that he forgot to turn the lights on.

So he quietly giggles to himself, laughing at his silly little mistake. Because he is home, he can navigate the entire layout without opening one eye. He knows how the side table next to the couch angles outwards and how you align your house slippers neatly next to the shoe rack when you leave home while his slippers are always strewn across the entrance after he somehow always leaves for work a few minutes behind his schedule. He knows the way in which each room smells and how the kitchen smells after your failed attempt at flipping pancakes – how the hair straightener smells when you stand behind him while trying to style his hair.

Stumbling his way to the bathroom, he sighs in relief when he gets to lean against the bathroom sink counter while he washes his hands. Scrubbing the soap between each finger, being sure to clean underneath his fingernails, he makes a mental note to call the plumber tomorrow.

His phone vibrates when he receives a notification. It is a text from a drinking buddy asking if he is okay. Of course, that is what he tells himself. Junhui thinks that there is no better day to go home early to confess his love for his best friend than today. Everything feels right, and it is not just the liquid courage talking.

Besides, you never have to stop confessing your love for somebody even when you’re in a romantic relationship with them. That’s what you always told your boyfriend after giving him a soft kiss on the top of his head while he laid his head against your chest.

Oh, how he loves laying in your welcoming arms.

Another notification sound emitted breaks him away from his transient daydream. The buddy tells his drunk friend not to do anything dumb like visiting another person’s house at night.

The text leaves Jun dumbfounded as to why he would even go to another person’s house when he could just go home to you.

So he stumbles to his bedroom, forgetting his phone on the tiled counter. He squats on the floor beside your sleeping figure, mumbling about how much he loves you while he swats his hand around the dark to reach for the small table lamp the two of you chose at a flea market during one of your first few dates. It’s technically yours; you’re the one who chose and bought the lamp. But his hand never touches something tangible until it comes down hard against the nightstand where the table lamp is supposed to be.

And it stings. The way his tender flesh prickles with pain only sobers him.

And he crumples to the floor after losing balance on his legs, after losing the balancing person in his life.

You broke up with him last month. Your lamp is gone. But he still repeats his same routine every night, making space for you in his life even without your presence, just like clockwork. And it feels empty and lonely sitting in the dark, leaning against the side where his past lover used to lay. And he wishes his love confessions will find a soft place to land, one as soft as your cheek against his lips.

Maybe one day he will learn a new rhythm in which he can love himself unconditionally. Tonight, however, he unfortunately still loves you.

-> requests closed but if you want to talk sfw svt: let's chat!

svt + kitchen dances

➔ reaction || domestic!au || maknae line

➔ warnings: none || 315 words ➔ notes: fluff ; new monday means new post hehe the past few days have been cold for me, so i wanted to warm up my day by having something cute for caratblr. reblog if you liked!

SEUNGKWAN: it's right after dinner, sink piled high with dirty dishes and pans because you're bad at cleaning up as you go. you keep him company as he washes them, scrolling through your phone as the designated dj. "oh wait, go back to that last one," he says. the song comes back on, and he braces his soapy forearms on the counter to throw it back. you shriek and hop off the island, coming up behind him with an imaginary glass in your hand, hyping him up. these are the moments you love best, being able to be silly in seconds and feeding off each other's energy.

VERNON: it's actually a little after midnight, and your toes curl in your fuzzy socks as you wait for him to finish cooking three ramen packs in one pot. the speakers play something from his late night playlist. you don't know the lyrics, but he does, nodding his head and mumbling along. when he looks up at you, you pretend to dance to it, and he flashes that familiar smile. one hand continues stirring the noodles, the other spins you twice before settling on your hip, pulling you into his side. it's a subtle sway, and you're caught up in his rhythm as always.

CHAN: it's eight in the morning when you finally wake up, groggy from oversleeping. you find him in the kitchen, apron tied haphazardly around his waist, the strings about one hop away from coming undone. something in the air smells good, and judging by the two bowls set out, you'll find out what it is soon. he's singing into a wooden spoon, and when he sees you, he doesn't miss a beat. the spoon is back in the pot, your hands are in his, and he's enveloping you in the music — and your sleepiness is wiped away by his expression, brighter than any sunshine.

unpredictable

woozi x reader (fluff, neighbors to lovers)

dialogue prompts: “have you come to laugh at me?” / “today isn’t your day, is it?”

wc: 2.5k

a/n: hello!!! it’s been a while, huh? i’m still working on those bigger projects (like vampire!bambam and vampire!ian), but here’s a little writing exercise i did recently. i don’t have nearly enough woozi content out here, right? thank you all for being patient with me and supporting the blog, love you all, uwu

The forecast did not call for rain, you think, grimacing. You know it didn’t because you had checked over and over again before getting dressed this morning, but here you were, walking through the icy cold, pelting rain, without anything more than your usual lightweight jacket.

You’re shivering by the time you finally make it back into your apartment, having tracked water into the elevator and down the hall. Your hair is dripping wet, and you trudge to the bathroom, barely peeling your soaked jacket off before you hear your door buzzer going off. Taking a glance in your bathroom mirror at your miserable appearance, you frown and snatch a towel before heading to the door, wrapping it around your shoulders as though that’s going to help.

It may be a bad idea, given your current state, but you open the door without looking to find none other than Lee Jihoon, your neighbor-turned-best-friend of the past year, standing at an awkward diagonal from your door to avoid the puddles you’d left while unlocking your apartment. You huff and pull the towel tighter around you.

“Have you come to laugh at me?” you grumble, narrowing your eyes at him. There’s no doubt in your mind that Jihoon had heard you coming home, considering he lives right next door, and that he might just be here to say ‘I told you so’ after you had ignored his nagging about keeping an umbrella on you. You still stand by your statement that always carrying an umbrella is impractical and annoying, but you have to concede that he has a point. Not that you want to.

“No,” he replies, looking you up and down. “But I might now that I’m here. Why didn’t you stop and buy an umbrella?” As he speaks, you step aside to let him in, wondering how long it will take until you regret that decision.

“I have one, so it seemed like a waste of money,” you reply, keeping your voice low as though Jihoon won’t be able to hear you. He lets out a sigh and gives you a witheringly ‘disappointed but not surprised’ look that rivals your mother’s in how badly it makes you want to melt into the floor.

“Have you eaten? Go shower and I’ll make you something,” he says, not even waiting for your reply. You had not, in fact, eaten anything since breakfast that morning — when you had noticed the rainclouds, you’d chosen to skip lunch in hopes that leaving a little early would let you avoid the storm. Ha.

Jihoon pushes you towards your bathroom, and you pout exaggeratedly at him before the door closes, trying to look extra pitiful.

“Thanks, Jihoonie,” you simper, and he cringes. 

“Shower,” is all he says before he shuts the door in your face. You can’t help but laugh.

Keep reading

best boyfriend ever

member | seungkwan x gn reader genre | fluff word count | 750 synopsis | seungkwan takes care of you when you're sick warnings | mentions of nausea/other sick things (not super descriptive), seungkwan is the cutest and most caring boyfriend notes | requested by 🧸 anon! hope you feel better soon!!

one reblog = one lime gatorade seungkwan will give you

“baby, you have to take your temperature. please?”

you’re laying in bed, laptop propped up on the side table and playing the most recent episode of the show you’re watching. the only good thing about being sick is that even though you’re in a constant state of aches and pains, at least you can use the time to catch up on your favorite series.

despite being nauseous and dizzy 24/7, the downtime is actually a nice break from your responsibilities. but that doesn’t stop you from trying anyway; what’s even worse than feeling sick, is feeling unproductive.

you had almost made it to work today, but seungkwan managed to catch you before you could walk out the door, bundled up in layers and layers of coats and jackets but not wearing any shoes.

he just gently steered you back into bed, cooing about how you’d freeze and make yourself even sicker and that your boss could find somebody to cover for you for another day.

“i don’t want to, kwannie,” you sniffle through a stuffy nose. “it’s not like the fever is gonna go down anytime soon.”

he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. “yes, but we still have to make sure it doesn’t go up. i don’t wanna have to take you to the hospital.”

“you wouldn’t even take me to the hospital? that’s so mean. worst boyfriend ever.”

“if you weren’t so sick i might actually be offended,” he huffs, holding out the thermometer to you. “now will you open up for me please? at least let me do it for you. just sixty seconds, that’s all i need. then i’ll bring you more gatorade, how about that?”

“mm, gatorade,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. with a lot of effort you roll onto your other side so you can face him. “i thought i drank the last one yesterday, though?”

“i bought more.”

“the lime flavor i like?”

“mhm. got the big pack, too.”

“yay!” you say with a weak smile. you give in and open your mouth for him, the promise of something yummy to drink enough to bribe you into letting him take your temperature.

he carefully sticks the tip of the thermometer under your tongue, holding it in place for you. you let your eyes fall shut while you wait, suddenly growing tired. and before you know it the little plastic stick in your mouth is beeping, signaling that it’s done.

you slowly pry your eyes open, eyes fixed on seungkwan’s face as he checks the display. sometimes you forget how pretty he is, and it’s not the first time he’s caught you staring for longer than you should. his soft skin seems to glow, even despite the curtains being closed to block out the sunlight because it gives you a headache.

“only 100.8°,” he says, breaking your trance as he turns the thermometer around to show you. “lucky you, no hospital for you today.”

you hum in response and close your eyes again, letting your head fall back against the pillows.

now it’s seungkwan’s turn to watch you, gently brushing away the hair that’s fallen across your face. “are you getting tired, baby?”

you sigh, coughing a little. “maybe.”

he smiles fondly, but you don’t see it with your eyes closed. “alright. call me when you wake up again, okay, sweetheart? i’ll make you some soup when you get hungry.”

you mumble again and settle into bed as seungkwan fixes the sheets around you, smoothing down the blankets and picking up the extra pillow that had fallen onto the floor. finally he shuts your laptop for you, pausing your episode for later so you don’t miss anything, because he knows you’d be upset if you lost your place and had to go back and find where you left off.

he leans down and presses a little kiss to your forehead, watching your eyelashes flutter for a moment before he stands up and starts to walk away.

“seungkwan?” you call out softly, and he stops immediately, turning around.

“yeah?”

there’s a pause. “i love you.”

“i love you, too,” he replies, the smile on his face growing.

“i’m sorry i said you were the worst boyfriend ever. i didn’t mean it. you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

he shakes his head, already knowing you didn’t mean it and trying his best not to laugh at your sweet apology. “thank you, sweetheart. i love you, too,” he repeats.

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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it lets me know this is something people want to see more of and it helps a ton with being motivated to write. thanks for reading!!