#and now I go back to crying myself to sleep | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i2sunric · 2 days ago

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𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (p.sh)

PAIRING: sunghoon x reader (f)

SUMMARY: in the depth of the night, when the bad dreams try to drown you, sunghoon is always there to pull you from the tide.

WARNING: established relationships, mentions of a fight, nightmares, mentions of an anxiety attack, fluff, comfort, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 28th November 2024

WC: 1k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @senascoooop @mitmit01

a/n: i just wrote this for myself and thought i’d share lol. i need someone like this ngl

The fight was stupid, like most of your fights with Sunghoon. A misunderstanding that snowballed into frustration and sharp words. You couldn’t even remember what had caused it, you just know that the both of you had gone to bed angry. With unspoke and built up frustration.

Now, hours later, the room was dark and quiet, save for the occasional rustle of sheets and the soft hum of the air conditioning.

Sunghoon lay on his side of the bed, his back facing you. He had barely looked at you as he climbed into bed, his jaw tight, his arms crossed before he pulled the blanket over himself. He hadn’t said goodnight, and you hadn’t, either.

Minutes transformed into hours before you managed to close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

It wasn’t long before the nightmares found you.

You didn’t remember how it started, only the suffocating sense of fear that wrapped around you like a vice.

They were almost a routine, but usually they were just work or university related.

Though, when you were stressed, those nightmares took the forms of your worst fears. Plane crashes, other tragedies that you couldn’t stop, the ocean.

You woke up to one, but fortunately, you were able to fall back to sleep a little later. It wasn’t that bad.

Not until another one found you, darker and creepier than the previous one. It made your heart pound, your breath uneven as anxiety pricked your skin.

You woke with a gasp, your chest heaving, the sheets damp with sweat. The room was still dark, save for the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, and the shadows in the corners of the room suddenly felt alive.

Your hands trembled as you pulled the blanket closer, pressing your face into your knees to muffle the sobs that threatened to spill out. You couldn’t wake Sunghoon. Not tonight. Not after the fight.

But the harder you tried to stay quiet, the harder it became to hold back the tears.

He knew all about how troubled you were after your nightmares. Because in all efficiency, you loved sleeping. You loved the feeling of the warm sheets hugging your skin, the smell of fresh and safe.

Sunghoon had shifted through the night, he was wearing a sleeveless white shirt, the sheets covering until his stomach.

When he heard the muffled sound of your sobs, his brows furrowed, his heart squeezing in his chest.

“Y/n?” His voice was groggy but tinged with concern.

You froze, cursing yourself for not being quieter. You didn’t answer, hoping he’d think he imagined it and go back to sleep.

But then you felt the bed shift as he rolled over, the weight of his gaze heavy even in the dark.

“Are you crying?”

You shook your head quickly, your voice breaking as you croaked, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” His voice softened, and a moment later, you felt his hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you back so he could see your face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you whispered, wiping at your cheeks. “Just a bad dream.”

His jaw clenched, guilt flickering in his eyes as he noticed how your shoulders trembled. You were clearly shaken, your breaths uneven, and he hated that you were going through yet another panic.

Sunghoon sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his messy hair. The loose fabric of his sleeveless shirt shifted as he leaned closer, his arm brushing against yours. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

You hesitated, your voice small. “I didn’t want to bother you. You were already mad at me.”

His heart sank at your words. He could be stubborn, but hearing the tremor in your voice made him realize how much he’d let his pride get in the way.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I shouldn’t have gone to bed angry, we promised not to do it..”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “It wasn’t just you. I was being stubborn too.”

He sighed, his hand lingering on your cheek for a moment before he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You hesitated but quickly melted into his warmth, the scent of him — clean and familiar — grounding you.

“You should have woken me up,” he said again, his tone gentle but firm. “I don’t care if we fight, I’d never want you to deal with this alone.”

Your tears spilled over again, this time not from fear but from the overwhelming comfort of his words. Sunghoon held you tighter, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your arm.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a while, his voice low.

You shook your head, burying your face in his chest. “No. I just… I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Ok,” he whispered. “Then we won’t.”

He shifted, lying back against the pillows and pulling you with him so your head rested against his shoulder. His other hand reached for yours, threading your fingers together.

He used the other one to gently caress your back, tracing different soothing patterns.

For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence between you no longer heavy with tension but filled with unspoken understanding.

Sunghoon tilted his head to press a kiss to your temple, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded, your grip on his hand tightening as your breathing finally evened out.

Safe in his arms, the shadows of your nightmare faded, replaced by the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

“I love you.” you whispered gently, and Sunghoon tightened his grip on you “I love you too, baby.”

And as you finally drifted back to sleep, you heard a faint “I’ll always protect you.”

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untildawnss · 1 day ago

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tailspin

in which josh always felt like the odd one out in his family and group of friends.

yes, i like to hurt my own feelings, why do you ask?

definitely inspired by myself and a few songs: gasoline by halsey, work in progress by the dangerous summer, 100 bad days by ajr, yes i'm a mess by ajr, breakdown by you me at six, i wanna get better by the bleachers, overwhelmed by royal & the serpent, panic room by au/ra, young by girli, crawling by linkin park

cw: depression, suicidal ideation, angst, attempted suicide

wc: 2.8k

josh looked down at the half-empty cup that he was balancing between his knee and the thumb and index finger of his right hand, tilting it down and back up right before the drink spilled over. his left thumb touched the tip of his index finger, then his middle finger, ringfinger and pinkie and back again while he inhaled for four seconds, held that breath for four seconds, exhaled for four seconds and then paused for another four seconds. he was uncomfortably aware of his heartbeat. "hey, josh!" it took him a second to realise that someone was talking to him. "josh, we're up." the cup in his hand slipped slightly. "what?" josh looked up and there was chris, doing lunges and kicks and punching the air. "beerpong, bro! what's wrong with you?" everything. "nothing, just got really into planning my strategy." he drained the cup, forced his face into the well-practiced, toothy grin that he sported in every picture and whooped. "let's fucking go, bro! these suckers won't know what hit 'em."

the noise of the party was gone. josh could have called a cab or ordered an uber but he craved the fresh air and quiet that the walk home guaranteed. no driver trying to make conversation, no fastest route. he wasn't sure if he wanted to go home. sometimes it didn't feel like home. he felt out of place. his sisters had each other, their parents were barely involved anymore. and then there was him. josh. the oldest, the problem, the one that just didn't fit in. and he was going where his feet were taking him now. he'd had a lot to drink. he didn't feel like he made sense the way he was, just a bit off, like he was not entirely one single, whole person. just pieces of someone that were held together by the people around him. but there was no one around now and josh felt like he was crumbling, falling apart atom by atom. the darkness was suffocating and liberating at the same time and he stood still for a second or two. his hands were shaking and he didn't know why. now that he was alone he wished he wasn't. but he couldn't stand being around his friends either. because maybe they hated him as much as he hated himself.

josh's room was pitch black. even hannah and beth were already asleep when he finally snuck into the house. the buzz from the party had more than worn off at this point and his ears were ringing. it felt like someone was sitting on his chest, he definitely couldn't breathe right and his heart was beating faster. naturally, he'd made his way to the cabinet where his parents kept the booze to sneak another two or six big gulps of vodka or whiskey or whatever his hands could find in the dark corner of the room. just to calm down, to sleep. and here he was, throat burning and that ache in his chest still pulsing, pumping, stabbing. he could barely breathe. josh's eyes were stinging. he was tired now, away from everyone and everything. almost like a sensory deprivation chamber, if it wasn't for the creases in the sheets and the wrinkles in his shirts he felt against his back and thighs and calves. he hated it, being this aware of his own body. the old clock on the wall was ticking. he was trying to breathe in time with the ticking hand, four seconds, four seconds. but his lips were quavering and his eyes were stinging and he felt like he was choking. and then he was crying.

he'd fallen asleep at one point because someone was opening his curtains and the bright morning light stung in his still puffy eyes. someone sat down on the side of his bed. his body shifted with the dip in his mattress and his stomach lurched. another person plopped down on the other side of the bed. he heaved this time. "leave me alone," josh groaned. "mom and dad said to wake you up or we're not taking you to the beach." hannah and beth sounded excited. "don't wanna go to the beach. i'm not feeling well." josh pulled his blanket over his head. he felt his mattress shifting again, the twins' weight on his left and right vanishing. they left the door open. he heard someone else walk in and close the door. his mattress shifted again. a hand pulled the blanket off his face and gently stroked the side of his face. mom. he felt like crying again. "joshua, you're not feeling well?" she always used his given name when he wasn't well. "we can stay home." no, i'll ruin everything. "no, you can go. i'll call you if i need anything." she kissed his forehead. "are you sure?" no. he nodded. "okay." she closed the door when she walked out and he heard them, having fun, without him, as a family. they don't need me.

josh felt paralysed. some invisible, intangible force was trapping him in this bed, his bed. it had been a few hours since his family had left for the weekend trip to the beach. he had barely moved since then. the afternoon sun was reflecting off of the clock on his wall. it was still friday. he still had until sunday until his parents and sisters would get back. and he didn't belong. not really, anyway. hannah and beth were a few years younger and anything he'd never managed to achieve, they had. he was just the one that fell off the wagon years ago and had messed up the picture perfect family. there was a kind of disconnect, his body seemed to move without his input sometimes. he barely remembered getting in the shower or having breakfast, or maybe it was lunch at this point. josh could barely decide if he wanted to be alone or not before he had sent a text to the group chat with his friends asking them if they had any plans for tonight. it was too late now but he was barely convinced they liked him when he was at his best anyway, so what difference did it really make now?

they'd all agreed to come over to his place since his parents were out. they had invited more people, too. i should be fine. but he wasn't. there were so many people everywhere and he wished they would just leave. he should be fine, but he was not. he was anxious. he could barely move around his house without walking in on conversations or kisses or more. it was getting hard to breathe again. josh felt like someone was crushing his chest. but he was standing upright, just tipsy and dying to get out of this house, his house where everyone else wanted to stay and have fun. but something was happening to him and his breathing was getting shallower and he was stumbling, tumbling, falling up the stairs looking for a door that would keep him safe from whatever was going on down there. and then josh was in a bedroom, a guestroom that was barely ever used and he was clawing at his chest, at the heart that was beating the wrong way and making him gasp for air and everything was painful and he hit the floor, still clutching his chest. and josh wished he had never asked anyone for anything, not even their time. everyone was here and he was here and breaking down and the door was closed but it was barely anything between him fighting for his life and everyone else having fun. they don't need me. no one needs me. they didn't, they really didn't. he was living in the house with the fun stuff that rich people had. but if he just disappeared they'd still have hannah and beth. because everyone loved them. and he was just there.

josh had been in this room for a while. might've been minutes, might've been days. he didn't remember. maybe he was somewhere else. didn't matter, really. he was like a ship adrift, waves of consciousness crashing into him, bouncing him, left and right, port and starboard. faces flashed before his eyes, maybe friendly. and he was here, his back against a hard surface and two faces he knew in front of him. "sam, is he okay?" chris sounded panicked. there was something pressing against his neck. "he has a pulse. he's fine, he's alive, he's fine, chris." chris and sam. they were here. "what's up, guys?" he could barely hear himself. maybe he was slurring his words. he did drink a lot. "josh, you good?" chris was leaning in closer. josh gave him a thumbs up and tried grinning like he always did. "i'm good, cochise." he tried to aim the finger guns at chris. maybe he aimed them at sam. he wasn't sure. and before he knew it he was upright and there was sam on one side and chris on the other and he tried to walk where they were taking him but he was too drunk and so slow.

josh was in his bed again. there was still music downstairs. and he was tired but he wasn't. he wanted to scream, to tell everyone to shut up. but his body wouldn't move the way he wanted it to. he let his hands sweep around him to find his phone. there it was, neatly placed on his bedstand next to a glass of, probably, water. he was too far from coherent to understand the words on the screen the way he normally did. he had to bring the screen as close as possible and squint and finally his eye focused on the words. he tapped on chris' name. it took him a while, seeing as he was one handed and one eyed but josh finally managed to send a message to chris. who's still here? where are you? the words felt like heavy lifting, or maybe it was just the oncoming hangover that made him feel this way. we're getting everyone to go home. yeah, that was probably best. josh could barely type and send his response before he passed out again.

when josh woke up it was saturday. maybe midday or the afternoon. whatever. but there were no more people in his house and there was trash everywhere and a note from chris on the inside of the front door. we tried our best. and josh smiled because chris and sam could've left everything for him to clean up but they didn't. maybe they didn't hate him. he didn't dare debate this now that he was alone and had to clean the house. he preferred to believe that maybe they did like him. and so he turned on the music and turned it up to the point his parents would intervene because it would give him tinnitus.

josh started collecting all the disposable cups and pizza boxes he could find around the house and on the patio. chris and sam had probably done a lot already because there had been so many people last night, he still filled almost an antire bag. he craved a cigarette. no one knew he had started smoking. maybe chris, but he wouldn't say anything. i should be fine. he wasn't. he wasn't fine at all. josh spent the rest of the day trying to clean the house, just trying to make sure his parents wouldn't realise he'd had a party.

but when the night came he was restless again. and he couldn't resist. blades seemed so vulgar. he'd put his father's gun to his head before, once or twice, just to know how it felt. and now it was 4 in the morning and he just wanted to not exist. and the pills were right there. but josh wasn't sure. did he want to go out that way? he didn't actually know. but the music was playing and he there were the pieces of everyone he loved the most flashing before his eyes. there was beth. you can't wake up. there was hannah. this is not a dream. mom. you're part of a machine. dad. you are not a human being. chris. with your face all made up, living on a screen. sam. low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline. josh. i think there's a flaw in my code. and he didn't know if this was real anymore. he knew he didn't fit in. i'm not scared. at least he tried not to be. but he was.

and josh tried, he really tried. but his pills were right there and he was just a disturbance in the perfect life his friends and family were living, right? they won't miss me. the thought was bouncing and bumping and jumping around and around in his head. he wanted to get better but he didn't know how, how, how. nothing helped and even drinking helped for a few hours at most. and they don't want me anyway. he was sure they didn't. they had hannah and beth and they got trophies and awards and everything he didn't. and sam liked hannah better anyway. and chris, chris would find a new friend. someone cooler than him.

he had deliberated, thought about this. there was really nothing else to do, nothing he could do, was there? but it was barely an hour until his family was supposed to be back. and he was panicking because he didn't want to see him like this but there was no other way. josh cried again. but because he had waited too long. and he was sitting on his bed, a glass of water and almost a month's supply of pills on his bedstand. oh death. and he begged for gods he didn't believe in to take him. and so he stuffed the pills in his mouth and it took him three, four, five, six gulps to swallow them all. and josh sat there and he was fine and he didn't want to be. he wanted to die and he took his pills, all at one,. and he was fine and he hated it. and then his vision blurred and his head started to hurt and then he could barely breathe and he got up and he was stumbling towards the door and he couldn't breathe and he opened his door but he was short of breath and he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. and then he was aspirating and he heard someone call his name and pressure on his chest and he wasn't sure if it was heaven or hell but there were the faces of the people he loved. his parents. hannah. beth. and he wanted to live. he didn't want to die anymore. and he needed them to know. and he was fighting, trying to dig himself up because it felt like he was buried alive and he clawed and punched and gasped and breathed until he was surrounded by machines and white and a hospital room and was choking on a tube. and his parents and sisters were there and all of them looked like they were crying. a nurse pulled the breathing tube out of his throat and informed the room that he was breathing on his own again. and josh started crying. and hannah and beth were on him, clawing at him as if he was the only thing that mattered and their parents were crying and telling him that they were sorry. and josh was crying, returning the hug. "i didn't mean to. i didn't want to." and he was sobbing and grabbing at every part of his sisters he could reach. "i didn't want to die. i don- i don't want to die." hannah and beth had removed themselves from josh's figure in the hospital bed, already informing their friends that josh was alive. melinda washington had sat down on the side of his bed, her husband behind her, a hand on his shoulder, his face a carefully curated mask. "mommy, i didn't want to die. mommy, please, i didn't want to die." josh was crying, begging, pleading. melinda washington knew they'd technically made a decision but seeing her son like this was different. but her husband wouldn't budge. melinda beckoned her daughters closer to prepare them but wondered if there was really a preparation for not seeing your brother, your son for at least a few months. bob was more than prepared to have joshua committed. she really wasn't but knew that there was nothing she could to do help him. so she went along with his decisions. just a few weeks, maybe months until they could see josh again.

#until dawn #josh washington #until dawn imagines #chris hartley #hannah washington #beth washington #samantha giddings

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