#I’m reassured by the poll results so far lol

[ghostwise]

This is the mug that inspired the last post btw.

[kirachama]

warm (saeran x reader)

summary: and something took you from me   i can’t understand why but wherever you’re resting  i’m carrying your warmth

rating: 10+ (death of a pet)

notes: this is what that poll was for ahahaha. this is also for my dog smokey, who passed away this morning. i suppose this is an odd way to... deal with my feelings about it lol. i hope i did a decent job. 

thanks to everyone who voted. i’m gonna go try and write for seven now. /flops over

rest in peace, smokey. thank you telling me my ex boyfriends were shitty by puking on them. i love you.

> read it on ao3 < 

Your mother has a bad habit of calling you at the worst times. When you’re sleeping. When you’re at work. When you’re ‘kinda busy and can’t talk right now, mom- sorry’. You always tell her to text you. It’s a little impersonal, but it’s far easier and more convenient for you to carry on a conversation via text message. However, your mother is a bit set in her ways, so instead of texting like you ask, she just calls and leaves voicemails that you often forget to return.

One day at work, when you’re close to the end of your shift, a sneak peek at your phone shows two notifications: a missed call from your mom and one new voicemail. You make a mental note to yourself to check the voicemail later. Chances are it’s just a standard check up call, so you’re not too worried.

Just as you’re about to clock out, you check your phone again. There’s a text message from your mother. She never texts you, she always calls. That’s how you know this must be serious.

You read the words on the screen, but they don’t quite register in your mind. It’s like you know what they say, but you just can’t seem to wrap your head around it. You rush to punch out so you can listen to the voicemail, thinking it’ll make things clear. But you can’t do it here. Not at work. Not where people can see. Not if the contents of that text message were real.

But you can’t go home to Saeyoung’s house either, at least not just yet. If you go home to listen to the voicemail, you know that one way or another there will be questions. But there is a park between your workplace and Saeyoung’s house. You can stop there and listen to your mother’s voicemail.

Luckily, the park is rather deserted and you plop yourself down on the first bench you find. With a shaky hand, you pull out your phone and bring up the voicemail. It’s only fourteen seconds long. You hit play and bring it up to your ear so you can listen.

It starts with your mother calling out your name, her voice weak, frail, confused. “I...I think Smokey died in his sleep... “

Your entire body stills. Smokey. The family dog. He’s been part of your family for fourteen years. You knew he was getting on in years but you never thought...

“...o-oh my god…” your mother’s voice begins to crack, her confusion quietly turning to fear. You’re practically able to hear the tears threatening to fall. You try to take a deep breath to calm yourself, but it gets stuck somewhere along the way and the resulting sound is something along the lines of a strangled cry.

“I… I’m going to take him to the vet!” her voice continues, the words slurring together in a panicked sob. “H-he’s warm still…!”

And that last sentence is what pushes you over the edge. ‘He’s still warm.’ He was still warm. Memories come rushing to your mind all at once. Cold nights when Smokey would faithfully curl up at your feet, warm and sweet. Days when you’d come home and he’d nearly hurl himself through the doorway, greeting you with a warm set of licks to the face.

Of course he was still warm! He was the very definition of the word.

You raise your hands to bury your face in them, trying to contain the tears streaming down your face. It’d been weeks since you’d last been to your mother’s house. Weeks since you’d last seen Smokey. And to think you’ll never see him again. He’ll never come running to the door to greet you again. He’ll never excitedly spin around your feet again. He’ll never bounce up and down as you pet him ever again.

Your entire body shakes, sobs wracking you to your core. Somewhere in your mind you wonder if this is just too much. Smokey was just a dog. But he’d stuck with you, through the good times and the bad for fourteen whole years. How could you not be upset?

The tears keep coming in torrents and you do your best to keep your sobs as quiet as possible. You don’t know how long you sit at that bench, but eventually you calm down enough that your sobs turn to heavy breathing.

You should get home.

Rubbing at your eyes, you peer at your tear stained phone. The notification light blinks at you in response. You unlock the phone and find two things. One, you’ve been here for a while. And two, you’ve got a handful of missed phone calls and unread text messages. All from Saeran.

You sigh. He’s probably worried sick. You don’t really feel like talking to anyone, but you should call him back. Sluggishly, you wipe your phone’s tear stained screen and dial Saeran’s number. It rings a couple times before he picks up, but he doesn’t say anything.

After a moment, you decide to speak first, voice soft, “Saeran?”

He remains silent and you begin to worry that he might be a bit mad. You speak his name again, your voice more hesitant this time.

When he finally speaks, you can hear his voice from both the phone and somewhere nearby, “So this is where you were.”

You look around and spot him on a path that heads toward Saeyoung’s house. When you make eye contact, his expression immediately changes from one of mild agitation to concern. He walks briskly over to the bench and sets himself down next to you, “...what happened?”

“Ah…” You look away, biting your lip. Of course he’d notice something was wrong right away.

“What is it?” he asks again, in a slightly more gentle tone. You don’t answer. If you do, if you think about it, you think that you might just start bawling again. Saeran reaches over, tenderly cupping your cheek with one hand as he forces you to look at him. “Tell me.”

His bright aqua eyes search yours, earnest and warm. You slowly open your mouth, your lips quivering. Saeran waits patiently for you to speak, his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles across your cheek.

“S-smokey… “ you stutter quietly. Just speaking the name is enough to plunge you into a dark sea of emotion. The tears come rushing back and you pull yourself from Saeran’s grasp, your entire body trembling.

“...Your dog?”

You rapidly nod your head, finding it hard to speak.

“What happened to him?”

“Ah…” You have to tell him. You have to face it. Taking a deep breath, you speak, the tears cascading all over your cheeks. “My.. my mom called… Said.. he died… in his sleep.”

Your entire body convulses with your confession. Saeran reaches an arm around to support you, his touch warm and reassuring. You cling to him, your unfettered wails echoing throughout the park.

“He… He was such a good boy!” you cry. “Such a good boy… Why did he…?”

You swallow the words, not wanting to utter them again. Saeran quietly rubs your back as you continue to cry. Amidst your weeping, you begin to ramble about Smokey. How he was good. How he was silly. How he was warm. You lament about how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him and how he’s gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

You thought you’d cried all your tears earlier, but it seems there’s still a lot inside.

But after what seems like an eternity, the torrents dry up leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. Your breaths heave in and out at a labored pace. Saeran raises his other arm, pulling you into a hug.

“....I’m sorry,” he whispers quietly in your ear and you whimper in response. You squeeze your eyes tight, not wanting to cry anymore and nod your head against him.

“Ah…” Saeran pauses for a second, then he continues. “All dogs go to heaven, don’t they?”

You sniffle, “...meaning he’s in a better place, now right?”

“...yeah,” Saeran answers, pulling you closer to him.

“...thank you,” you mumble against Saeran’s shirt, taking refuge in his embrace. He can be rough around the edges from time to time, but still he can be sweet and loving.

And warm.