#Dk x you

[diamonddaze01]

hello tara it’s me

if you’re still taking prompts for your game could i maybe suggest 40 “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” for our seokminnie?

kthnxbaiiiii

mismatched

pairing: seokmin x reader | wc: 1.0k prompt: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” a/n: BENNIE HELLO! i loved writing this and honestly it was just what i needed after work today lol

The day had been relentless. Emails piled up like bricks in a wall, each one heavier than the last. Deadlines loomed, impossible to meet, and the cherry on top was your client—someone who, apparently, had made it their life’s mission to leave you frazzled and questioning your career choices. By the time you got home, your shoulders ached, your head throbbed, and the walls of your apartment felt closer than ever, suffocating in their silence.

You didn’t mean to text Seokmin. At least, not like that. You had typed it out and hit send without overthinking it: "Today sucked. Can I call you later?" Short, vague, but enough to convey the weight pressing down on you.

Seokmin had always been good at sensing when you needed him. Maybe it was the years of friendship, the countless moments you’d spent together, teetering on the edge of something more but never quite diving in. Still, you hadn’t expected him to show up at your door less than twenty minutes later.

When the doorbell rang, you frowned, dragging yourself off the couch. You opened the door, and there he was, panting slightly as if he’d sprinted the whole way. His scarf hung lopsided around his neck, and his coat was barely on, one sleeve dangling at his side. His hair was tousled from the wind, and his cheeks were flushed a deep pink from the cold.

“Seokmin?” you asked, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, skipping right past pleasantries. His wide, dark eyes were locked on yours, scanning your face like he could piece you back together just by looking.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re wearing two different shoes,” you added, pointing to his feet before he could answer.

He glanced down, and the realization hit him like a truck. His left foot wore a white Adidas sneaker with faint blue accents, while his right foot was clad in a scuffed brown leather boot.

“Oh,” he muttered, ears turning crimson. “I didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t notice?” Your voice wavered between disbelief and the beginnings of a laugh.

“I came as soon as I got your text!” he protested, lifting his hands in defense. The plastic bag he carried swung dangerously close to hitting him in the face. “You said you had a bad day, and I thought maybe—maybe you needed me, or something.”

His words settled in your chest, warm and grounding. Your lips twitched despite yourself, the first hint of a smile breaking through the exhaustion that had weighed you down all day.

“Seokmin,” you said, stepping aside, “you didn’t have to rush over.”

“I wanted to,” he said softly, ducking his head as he stepped inside. His mismatched shoes squeaked against the floor, a detail so absurd it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“What’s in the bag?” you asked, nodding toward the plastic he still clutched in his hand.

“Soup,” he said, holding it up like an offering. “And snacks.” He hesitated, then added sheepishly, “I panicked. I just grabbed the first things I thought might help.”

You couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that bubbled up. “Soup is a solid choice.”

He grinned at that, the kind of radiant smile that made your chest flutter no matter how many times you’d seen it. “See? I know what I’m doing.”

The two of you settled on the couch, and Seokmin insisted on heating up the soup despite your protests. You let him, partly because you didn’t have the energy to argue and partly because watching him move around your tiny kitchen—still wearing those mismatched shoes—was strangely comforting.

When he returned, he handed you the bowl with a dramatic flourish. “For the most amazing person I know,” he declared, settling beside you with his own bowl.

“Flattery won’t fix my day,” you said, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you, lifting into a smile.

“Maybe not,” he replied, “but it might help a little.”

And it did. As you ate, you told him about your day—the impossible client, the mountain of emails, the way your boss barely acknowledged your effort. Seokmin listened intently, nodding in all the right places and throwing in the occasional comment that made you laugh despite yourself.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said after a pause, his voice quieter now.

“Don’t start,” you said, though your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his tone.

“I mean it.” He set his empty bowl aside and turned to face you fully, his gaze soft but unwavering. “You’re amazing, and I hate that you don’t see it.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Before you could muster a response, he leaned in, brushing a soft, tentative kiss against your forehead.

Your breath hitched, and when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, as if he was waiting for a sign that he hadn’t overstepped.

“Seokmin…”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

A small laugh escaped you, unbidden and warm. “A little.”

“Just a little?” He pouted, leaning closer, and before you could respond, his lips brushed yours—soft, warm, and lingering. The kiss sent a jolt through you, scattering your thoughts and melting away the tension that had clung to you all day.

When he pulled back, his smile was smaller this time, less teasing but no less radiant. “How about now?”

You laughed again, this time from somewhere deep in your chest. “Okay, fine. It worked.”

“Good.” He leaned back against the couch, propping his mismatched shoes up on the coffee table with zero shame.

By the time the evening wound down, your bad day felt like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of Seokmin’s presence. You glanced at him one last time before heading to bed, and for the first time in hours, you felt okay. Maybe even better than okay.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[daisymbin]

hiiii (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . !! could i request fluff prompt number 10: do you ever think about us as like... more than friends? - with dk saying it? (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ with female/afab reader?

hi cutie!!!!! yes you can!! grrrr why do I have cuteness aggression from an ask!!!! 😤😹 thank you for requesting!! 🫶

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // seokmin's m.list

fluff prompt #10: "do you ever think about us like... as more than friends?"

seokmin couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing under the table. he knew it was probably annoying you, but he couldn’t help it. his nerves were buzzing, the words he’d been rehearsing for weeks sitting heavy on his tongue.

you were sitting across from him, laughing softly as you scrolled through your phone, oblivious to the internal war he was waging.

you looked so relaxed, so you, and it made him feel like an idiot for being so worked up.

“seokmin,” you said, glancing up from your phone, “are you okay? you’re, like, vibrating.”

he froze, his foot halting mid-bounce. “yeah! yeah, i’m good,” he said, a little too loudly.

you tilted your head, unconvinced. “you sure? you’re acting kind of weird.”

he wanted to laugh. weird didn’t even begin to cover it.

“i’m fine,” he lied, fiddling with the edge of his napkin.

you narrowed your eyes but didn’t push it, instead taking a sip of your drink and glancing out the café window.

this was his chance.

“do you ever think about us?” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could second-guess himself.

you turned back to him, eyebrows furrowing. “what do you mean?”

he swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks heat up. “like… as more than friends?”

the words hung in the air between you, and seokmin felt like the whole world had gone silent, waiting for your response.

your eyes widened, and you blinked at him like you weren’t sure you’d heard him right. “more than friends?” you repeated, your voice soft.

he nodded, his throat suddenly dry. “yeah. like… do you ever think about it?”

you stared at him for what felt like an eternity, and seokmin resisted the urge to crawl under the table and hide.

“i…” you started, then trailed off, biting your lip. “i don’t know. i guess i’ve thought about it before.”

his heart skipped a beat. “you have?”

you nodded slowly, looking down at your hands. “yeah. i mean, we’re close, and sometimes it just… crosses my mind, you know?”

seokmin felt like his chest might burst. he hadn’t expected you to admit it, hadn’t dared to hope that you might feel the same way he did.

“what do you think about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you glanced up at him, your cheeks tinged with pink. “i don’t know. like, what it would be like if we… were together. if things were different.”

“different how?”

you hesitated, and he could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you were weighing your words carefully.

“just… if we weren’t just friends,” you said finally. “if we were more than that.”

seokmin leaned forward, his hands resting on the table. “and?”

“and what?”

“what do you think it would be like?”

you looked at him, your eyes searching his face like you were trying to figure out what he was thinking.

“i think…” you started, then stopped, shaking your head. “i don’t know, seokmin. it’s complicated.”

“it doesn’t have to be,” he said softly, his heart pounding in his chest.

you looked at him, and he could see the doubt and fear in your eyes.

“what if it doesn’t work?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“what if it does?” he countered, his voice steady.

you didn’t say anything, and seokmin felt the need to fill the silence, to lay everything out on the table.

“i’ve thought about it too,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “a lot, actually. and every time i think about it, it feels… right. like it’s supposed to be this way.”

you looked down, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve.

“you mean that?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of the café.

“every word,” he said, his eyes never leaving your face. “you mean so much to me, and i don’t want to mess this up, but i also don’t want to keep pretending i don’t feel this way about you.”

you looked up at him, your eyes shining with something he couldn’t quite place.

“i don’t want to mess this up either,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

“then let’s not,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “let’s take it slow. figure it out together.”

you stared at him for a moment, then nodded, a hesitant smile spreading across your face.

“okay,” you said softly.

seokmin felt like he could finally breathe again, the weight on his chest lifting.

“okay,” he repeated, his smile widening.

you laughed softly, shaking your head. "you’re ridiculous,"

“you like me anyway,” he teased, his grin turning playful.

“maybe,” you said, your tone teasing, but the look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.

[seungcheorry]

dokyeom puts a pillow under your lower back - he's trying his best to be soft and gentle, but he's just so desperate to feel you wrapped around him that perhaps he grabs the pillow a little too tight.

he makes sure you're comfortable enough, head resting on his bed as you can smell his perfume on the sheets; he kisses your face, holding your hand as he slips into you, loudly moaning at the feeling.

there's no way dokyeom could ever get tired of you.

it's no secret he's so whipped and so in love that even his members makes fun of him sometimes - but if they could ever feel you like dokyeom could, they would drop their teasing in an instant.

it's everything, actually - the way you grip his hand tighter when he hits the right spot inside you, how you gasp his name, how you try to pull him close by his waist, the way you whisper how much you love him on his ear.

there's no way he couldn't love you like he does.

"i love you", dokyeom moans against your lips, as he melts inside you. "i love you so much..."

[chheolie]

[⚾] where seokmin can't wait for his son to grow up and play baseball with him.

"papapapa." it was already the sixth or seventh time you heard your baby babbling that word, the small voice echoing in the room. it was late afternoon, and you were sitting on the couch, watching your child play with the toys scattered on the soft carpet. but something seemed to be missing. the baby's curious eyes wandered around the room, searching for something or someone. you knew perfectly well what—or rather, who—he was looking for. seokmin, your husband, loved to practice baseball on his days off, and that day, he was taking longer than usual to return home.

the baby began to get restless with the absence of his dad, making faces and emitting small sounds in an attempt to get attention. his big, curious eyes explored the environment while he babbled once again: "papapa." this time, there was a confused expression on his little face, as if he was trying to understand why dad wasn't there.

you watched as he crawled to the bedroom where seokmin usually told stories before bed, but upon arriving there, he found the space empty. a gentle ache filled your chest as you saw the little one so distressed, and you followed him into the room.

"my love, appa isn't here," you murmured, picking him up and feeling the tenderness of the moment. it was impressive how, even so small, he already showed so much affection and longing for his dad.

determined to cheer up your child, you went to the closet and carefully took out the tiny jersey that seokmin had kept with so much love. it was a dodgers shirt with the number 17 on the back, along with an mlb cap from new era, also from the dodgers. items that seokmin had bought excitedly while you were still pregnant, eager for the future.

with the baby in your arms, you dressed him in the jersey, which was still a bit big, and adjusted the cap, which was also too large for his little head. seeing him dressed like this, a miniature version of seokmin, you couldn't help but smile. the baby watched you curiously, a smile lighting up his face as if he understood what was about to happen.

"shall we go see appa?" you asked, knowing that while he might not understand all the words yet, "appa" was one he knew well. the answer came in the form of a joyful giggle.

you grabbed the diaper bag and walked leisurely to the field where seokmin usually trained. the air was fresh, and your child observed the colors and sounds along the way, his eyes shining with fascination.

upon arriving at the field, you spotted seokmin running around the bases, fully focused on the practice. his teammates were also busy, each in their position. still holding the baby, you stopped near the fence and watched seokmin for a moment. he seemed so at ease there, playing baseball, as if he were performing on stage, and you felt a wave of pride for him.

one of seokmin's friends noticed your presence and waved, catching his attention. "seokmin, look who's here!" he shouted, pointing in your direction.

seokmin stopped and turned immediately, a smile already forming before he even saw you. when he finally realized it was you and your child, his eyes sparkled with joy. he dropped the baseball glove on the ground and ran towards you, his heart racing with happiness. the baby laughed with excitement in your arms, recognizing the familiar figure quickly approaching.

"look at this outfit!" seokmin exclaimed when he got close, laughing as he took the baby in his arms. "you're dressed just like appa."

the baby held seokmin's face with his tiny hands, still laughing with joy at seeing his dad. seokmin lifted him in the air and brought him close, kissing his cheek with affection.

"sorry for showing up without warning," you said, smiling as you watched the scene, "but he kept calling for you all afternoon. i thought bringing him here would cheer him up."

"are you serious?" seokmin asked, surprised, a huge smile on his face. "he was calling for me?"

you nodded, caressing his face. seokmin leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss. "were you waiting for appa?" he asked the baby, who laughed at recognizing the word.

"i told you…" you laughed, amused.

seokmin turned to his friends, proudly showing off his son. "look who came to beat you all!" he said loudly, with pride.

"i can't wait for him to grow up and come play with me," he confessed to you, his gaze still fixed on the baby.

you laughed, crossing your arms and pretending to be worried. "oh? and who’s going to take care of me when you two are out on the field? am i going to be left alone at home?"

"it's not like that, love, i just…" he tried to explain, but you interrupted him with a gentle kiss, and he smiled, feeling his heart warm.

the two of you smiled, and you watched the man you loved hold your son with such care.

you and the little one sat on the small bleachers, now more relaxed, still fascinated by the environment and by the presence of his dad. you adjusted his cap and positioned him on your lap so he could see seokmin in action on the field.

seokmin focused on the game, but not before blowing kisses to his son, who laughed at the sight. you laughed along, charmed by the scene.

the game continued for a while longer until the baby finally began to get sleepy, perhaps lulled by the rhythm of the game or by the comfort of being close to his dad. when the game ended, seokmin waved at you, and you had the baby relaxed in your arms.

he ran towards you, still smiling, his face sweaty. gently, he took the baby, who was already fast asleep, and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder.

"he was exhausted from looking for you earlier," you said softly, as you watched seokmin adjust the baby in his arms. "but now that he's seen you, he's at peace."

seokmin smiled, looking at the baby sleeping so soundly. "thank you for bringing him here. i had no idea how much i missed you both while i was training."

you started walking back home, taking your time. seokmin held the bag in one hand and kept the baby secure against his chest with the other. you, in turn, carried seokmin's glove with the baseball inside.

"i'm not sure how i feel about having another baseball player in the house," you teased, tossing the ball in the air. "he seems to have taken a liking to being on the field."

seokmin chuckled softly, his eyes shining with happiness. "i admit, i can't wait to see him running around the field, with the same passion i have," he said, looking at you lovingly. "but we can fix that."

"how?" you asked, curious.

he stopped walking for a moment and, still holding the baby, pulled you closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. "we can have another one…"

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours, and continued walking together along the quiet street. in the silence of the night, the sound of your footsteps mingled with the baby's soft snores. "i love you, seokmin," you said, squeezing his hand.

"i love you too, y/n. thank you for today."

[nonranghaes]

heads up: poly 97z :3

"none of us look like we're going to the same place." minghao adjusts his wire frame glasses, turning to the three of you. "this is why i can't trust any of you."

to be fair, he has a point. minghao's dressed cozily, with a long cardigan and warm tones, like he's about to go to a coffee shop for a poetry reading or to a wine tasting. which is probably appropriate, considering you are going to his poetry reading alongside the rest of your boyfriends. mingyu's dressed like he's about to go for a ride on his yacht (or whatever--you don't know what rich people do) with that navy blue and white sweater, complete with a pair of sunglasses that college you would have been gawking at the price tag of... and a big ass watch that you don't even know the brand of, but screams luxury. seokmin looks like he just wandered off the set of grease with his leather jacket, almost like he's about to bust out into "greased lightning" at any second. and you... well, you're dressed head to toe in black, stylish enough that you look like you just walked away from your wealthy spouse's funeral and you're already planning on how to spend their money. mingyu's sunglasses would complete the look, now that you're thinking about it.

"i don't see anything wrong," mingyu says, sunglasses lowered. "we look good."

"we do, but..." minghao shakes his head. "you know this isn't a fancy place, right?" he adjusts the edge of his sweater again, clearly a little nervous for what's to come. he's never done a poetry night at this new place, after all.

you're by mingyu's side, leaning against him as you look in the nearby mirror. yeah. definitely going to two different places: he's too colorful. "do you want us to change?"

minghao turns, taking in the sight of the three of you, so mismatched from one another. seokmin wraps his arms around his shoulders, and minghao just leans into his touch before shaking his head. "it's fine."

"think of it this way," seokmin says, already beaming with joy, "you won't lose us in the crowd."

and he's right: minghao's eyes find you easily in the crowded coffee shop that evening, and you see the subtle way he smiles, put at ease. the pictures you'll take later might get playful comments from his friends about how mismatched the four of you are, even with seokmin's jacket hanging over his shoulders... but minghao thinks you fit together perfectly.

[babyleostuff]

─ meaning of pet names w/ lee seokmin 𝜗𝜚 hc's under the cut

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ sunshine

whether you are a sunshine or not, seriously - you can be the biggest black cat to ever cat, to seokmin you’re still the biggest sunshine there is. he sees you as his personal, little ray of sun because you are the one to light up his gloomy days and you are the one that gives him this fuzzy feeling of warmth and comfort. the pet name feels just so right for you, he loves it so much, truly. he adores how naturally it rolls off his tongue, seokmin genuinely sometimes forgets you have a government name.

„hi, sunshine”

„sunshine, come here” (insert: whiny tone)

„how was your day, sunshine?”

nothing can stop seokmin from viewing you as his sunshine.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ baby

another pet name that makes his heart beat a bit faster whenever he uses it. it's so tender, loving and gentle, and that's exactly what seokmin wants to convey with his words. for some reason, he uses it the most when he's either sleepy or when he's extra whiny, the word "baby" just feels so natural then. besides, you are his baby, so...

if you, for example, take too much time on your night time routine in the bathroom, it's guaranteed that seokmin will whine at some point for you to hurry up, so you can cuddle, and he will use the word "baby" at least ten times.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ your name / any shortened version of your name

to seokmin, your name is the prettiest name to ever exist and as much as he loves using the pet names, your real name is like a pet name in itself. usually, when people say your name, you don't feel much, because, well - it's only your name. but when seokmin says it... he does it with so much love and adoration and it never fails to make you melt on the spot.

another thing he does very often is shortening your name to any kind of nickname he can possibly come up with. sometimes they don't make much sense, but he loves to call you them regardless.

now, we know seokmin can get into a menace-y mood from time to time and that's exactly how he'd tease you - with the made up, cutified nicknames that more often than not drive you crazy.

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[bangtanintotheroom]

On the Nose (M)

I'ma put this pussy on your face

Open up boy, come and get a taste

🔊 just wanna - iggy azalea (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: Dokyeom x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Humor, Smut, Friends to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 2.5k

• Summary: Seokmin thinks his nose might be too big. You’re quick to give him reasons as to why he’s wrong.

• Warnings/themes: insecurity, reassurance, OC with the compliments 🥹, Seokmin getting carried away, face-sitting, oral (f. receiving), groping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

• Notes: Look, all I'm going to say is that my thing for noses flares up whenever I look at DK and that was the inspo for this drabble. So sit and enjoy AJ's unhinged mind 🤪✨ thanks again to @wooahaeproductions for being an awesome beta! 💖

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you’re interested in all future fics I post!

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is my nose too big?”

Your friend’s out of nowhere question made you pause your mobile game and look up in bewilderment. You found him standing in front of his dresser, head leaned in close to the mirror.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Seokmin hummed, the tone unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me, y’know.”

Frowning deeply, you set your phone down and rose from the bed to walk over and stand next to him.

“Seokmin, why would I lie? Your nose is fine. Did someone say something about it?”

“No…”

His trailing off did not deter you from digging deeper.

“Seokmin.”

Your biting tone and hard stare made him flinch, not wanting to feel your wrath.

“No one said anything, per se, but they were looking. Really hard.”

“Who?”

Seokmin’s reflection shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Multiple people. We’d be having a conversation and I’d just notice their eyes going to my nose at some point.”

His explanation gave you some clarity now, but were they really thinking negative thoughts about it? You couldn’t understand why the poor guy was so concerned about his nose all of a sudden. To you, it was one of his best features.

Yes, he had a blinding smile. Yes, you would kill to have his cheekbones. Yes, he was just a handsome guy in general.

But having a dignified and regal nose increased his looks by at least fifty percent (if you were being modest).

It just suited him so well that you couldn’t picture him with anything more basic or minuscule. Anything less pointy and upright would not fit Lee Seokmin.

“Seokmin, maybe they were looking because they like it.”

Your friend turned away from the mirror to study you with interest.

“You think so?”

You gazed up at him confidently.

“I know so.”

“But don’t people usually prefer smaller noses?”

A scoff left before you explained, “Fuck what beauty standards say, I think big noses are one of the best things anyone could have. Think about it. When people get plastic surgery, they can only go smaller, not bigger, right?”

”Right…”

“So it’s something that’s natural and only special people are blessed with! Like yourself!”

Your reassurance was paired with a tap to said special feature, pulling a bright grin from Seokmin.

“Y/N, you know just how to cheer me up, don’t you?”

“Of course, dummy. That’s what friends are for!”

The both of you giggled, the atmosphere lighter than before due to your affirmations. It felt good to ease his worries, but as you laughed, one last fact came to your brain.

It wasn’t as innocent as the previous ones, but it was a truth for you. One you had personal experience with on more than one occasion.

“Seokmin.”

“Hm?”

“You know what else big noses are really good for?”

Seokmin’s dark brown eyes watched you with curiosity and a hint of eagerness.

“What?”

You looked up at him, face blank like a sheet of paper.

“Sitting on.”

He became a cartoon character immediately, eyes bugging and mouth flying open to let out a yelp while his hands covered his ears.

“Y/N! What?!”

“Hey—” You reached up to rip his palms down so he could hear properly. “—it’s true!”

“Is it, you…you…pervert? Or are you just making things up to make me feel better?!”

A scowl came across your face as you lightly punched his arm.

“I’m serious, idiot! Have you never heard of a girl using someone’s nose to get off?”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention if anyone did say that.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and readied yourself to continue convincing him.

“It’s true, okay?”

Seokmin blinked before squinting his eyes.

“And who’s your source?”

You met him with nothing but passiveness.

“Me, myself and I.”

All he could do was gape at you like a fish, stunned that you were revealing such an intimate secret about yourself.

Now, you were used to Seokmin’s dramatic reactions to mundane or extreme situations, but he usually did it out of fun. Yet something about the way his eyes darted all over your face told you that it was genuine astonishment he gave.

Which led to you challenging, “What, you’ve never had anyone sit on your face before?”

“No!”

Huh. Shocker.

“Really?”

His frantic nod only made your brows raise in wonder. It was a shame that this man had never been privy to the act. God strategically placed his nose at such an angle to reach crevices deep within women and it was being wasted for everything else but that.

An idea began brewing in you, wanting to convince him that he was missing out on something fun.

Licking your lips, you cocked your head to the side and let your suggestion out.

“Wanna try?”

Seokmin became too stunned to speak. All he could do was sputter at your offer.

“I— Y/N, you—!”

“Seokmin, I’m serious. It’s an experience.”

The way you grinned slyly was akin to suggesting your friend cut class with you, not let you use his face as a grinding pad.

“How am I going to convince you if you won’t let me sit on your face?”

Seokmin’s ajar mouth finally shut, jaw clenched as he looked you over from head to toe, gauging the seriousness of your offer. He saw little deceit and seemed to relax a bit.

“Y/N…would you really do that?”

You nodded.

“If it’ll make you feel better about your nose, absolutely. You’re welcome to say no if you don’t want to, though.”

The other pulled in his lower lip as he mulled over his answer. You were middle of the road right now. If he said no, you would take no offense and carry on like nothing happened. But if he said yes…

“Then…let’s try it.”

Oh. Neat!

Smiling in triumph, you held your arm out towards the bed.

“Go get comfortable.”

Seokmin’s lips quirked lightly at your instructions, walking over to lie on his back in the middle of the mattress. His head lifted to peer at you with query.

“Is this a good position?”

“Perfect. You’re a beginner, so it’s best if you stay completely flat.”

Humming at your reasoning, his eyes widened when your hands reached for your bottoms, undoing them as if you were undressing at the end of a long day. You saw him visibly swallow when your pants pooled around your ankles. But then he clutched the sheets when your fingers crept under the elastic of your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Seokmin tried his best to look less petrified as you looked up after stepping out of your clothes and walked over. Climbing onto the bed, you kneeled next to his torso, raising a brow down at him.

“Ready for me?”

An audible gulp came from your friend before he nodded quickly. With a sigh, you eased, “I’m not gonna suffocate you. Relax.”

The reminder seemed to lessen his nerves as he laid back again, giving you a jerk of his chin. The invitation prompted you to straddle his chest and keep an eye on his facial expression, only to catch him staring between your legs.

“What?”

Seokmin’s cheeks reddened before he shook his head quickly. “N-Nothing. So how does this go?”

“Literally just eat me out like you would with any other girl. But throw your nose into the mix.”

“Like, nudge you with it?”

“Mhm. Just follow your instincts, there’s not much wrong you can do with it.”

The man underneath you nodded before taking in a deep breath. As soon as he motioned you to scoot up with his eyes, you moved forward to hover over his lips. Trusting your core to keep you balanced, you let out your own held breath.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Seokmin gave a thumbs up, waiting until you lowered down so your folds were a whisper away from his mouth. He leaned up to brush his lips against them, the light touch making your spine straighten. It felt as if he was testing the waters, wanting to see just how sensitive you were. But he didn’t wait long to up the pressure, pulling the quietest of gasps out.

“Better?”

You would’ve giggled at the way his voice came out somewhat muffled if it wasn’t for the warmth starting to build in your gut.

“Yeah. Just do what you usually do, ‘Min.”

“Let me know if I have to switch it up.”

He returned to work, bringing his tongue into the mix to trace up and down. A louder noise came from your mouth at the thorough sensation, eyes fluttering. The question of whether Lee Seokmin was good at oral never crossed your mind, but now the answer was going to remain cemented in there.

Especially when the appendage sunk in between to run up and down your entrance.

“Oh shit—”

You were too distracted to see Seokmin’s eyes crinkle at your low moan, continuing the action to be rewarded with more. But after a while of this, you remembered the main reason why this was even happening in the first place. Swallowing a sound, you croaked out, “Seokmin.”

“Mm?”

“Your nose—”

The reminder had him make what you imagined was a noise of realization. And just like you wanted, the end of something soft yet sharp nudged your swollen clit.

“Ah— There you go.”

You gave encouragement, hoping it would push your friend to use his God-given gift to the fullest. It took some time, but Seokmin nuzzled the bud harder while simultaneously working his tongue below. Your warmth expanded into a tingling heat that traveled up and down your spine and into your fingers and toes, soft pants beginning to fall from your agape mouth.

You weren’t sure how long he had been at it, but you began to feel the telltale signs of a climax approaching. Not wanting to throw him off his game, you bit your tongue and allowed yourself to continue enjoying this experience of Seokmin learning the benefits of having a perfectly sculpted nose.

As the throes of ecstasy began to wash over your body, you hoped that he would carry this lesson through the rest of his life to treat any lucky girl.

Panting softly as you came down, the attention between your legs paused for a bit. But just as you were about to climb off and congratulate your friend for a job well done, the motions started up again, forcing you to gasp in sensitivity.

“’Min, what are you—”

A harsh bump to your still throbbing clit interrupted your query and a poke to your twitching cunt silenced you completely. All you could do was sit above Seokmin in utter shock as he continued to please you with his mouth.

Your complete surprise melted the further he went, brain shutting down to simply enjoy what he was giving you. At one point, you felt vibrations and started to hear something akin to mumbling from between your legs.

“Huh?”

The vibrations went on, but you still couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Seokmin, I can’t hear you, stop for a second.”

What might have been a groan sounded against your slick folds before Seokmin pulled back to husk out, “Sit on my tongue.”

Your mouth dropped, stunned at the request and the way he stuck out said muscle between his slick-coated lips.

But your hips went on autopilot and moved forward to grant him his wish. As soon as you sat down, the desire to use his tongue as a grinding pad came over. It seemed to be a wise choice as you could feel the strongest vibration so far against your pussy.

Seokmin surprised you again when one of his hands moved from the bed to rest on your waist before sliding over and up your torso. It seemed to be on autopilot as it aimed to touch your covered breast, only stopping short just as his fingertips were about to brush the bottom curve. Clicking your tongue at his unwanted hesitation, you covered his palm with your own and brought it to its intended destination.

“Don’t hold back.”

As soon as you let go, Seokmin took your command and ran to the bank with it. Long fingers groped and massaged at the mound, making your back arch in enjoyment. Enjoyment that pushed you higher and higher to another precipice, faster than before. While you trembled above your friend, you couldn’t believe that he kept this up. You figured that once would be enough to prove your point, but he just would not stop.

He continued even after you came for the second time, giving everything he had. You could feel yourself hurtling towards a third orgasm as Seokmin wouldn’t let you be. But when the tip of his nose felt too pointy and the flat of his tongue too rough for your sensitive folds, you decided to put an end to the experience.

“S-Stop—“

Pointless. He just kept going.

Stifling a whimper of discomfort, you were forced to reach down and pull at his dark brown locks.

“Christ, Seokmin, stop!”

Finally, your prayers were heard. Seokmin winced at your tug and removed his mouth from you to gape incredulously.

“Yah, why’d you stop me?”

You ignored the unusually titillating rasp of his voice to scowl down.

“I think you proved my point…too many times!”

Your emphasis was supported with a flick to his wet nose.

“You trying to kill me?!”

“No! I just got caught up in the moment! I’m sorry.”

The genuine remorse in his explanation made you relax a bit, soothing his scalp with a gentle ruffle of his hair.

“It’s alright, ‘Min. You did good…too good.”

As expected, Seokmin’s smile outshone the sun itself, thanks to your praise.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Returning the grin, you realized that you should give your friend some breathing room and climbed off to lay next to him, a tingle still present in your toes.

“So what have we learned today?”

Seokmin puckered his lips as he looked up in thought.

“I learned that my nose is big, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Um…that I can use it when I’m eating someone out.”

Your lips tilted.

“Go on.”

A melodic hum came as he continued to rack his brain.

“Mm…oh! How could I forget the most important one?”

You watched as his head turned to fixate you with a sweet grin.

“If I’m ever feeling insecure about anything, I can come to you for help.”

His answer made you smile wide, heart warming at how at ease he seemed to be now. Granted, you never expected to sit on his face, but if it made him feel better, you’d do it a hundred times over.

“Anything for you, ‘Min.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[kozukensgf]

bf texts with dk!

genre: smau, crack fluff

character: lee seokmin/dokyeom

warning(s): curse word

masterlist

[itssunshinetoday]

~ the boyfriend pictures series

boyfriend pictures

[mingtinys]

" i'm not stopping until you smile "

pairing : lee seokmin x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

a/n :still not sure how i feel about the ending on this one

Sometimes it feels like the universe is actively out to get you. Like for some reason, whatever Gods above have chosen you as the perfect target for their cruel jokes as a cure for their boredom.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, had.

Your coffee spilled first thing in the morning, scorching your skin and ruining your uniform. The back left tire of your car was flat, forcing you to take the morning train. Which you missed due to your coffee incident. Work was hectic, your boss on your ass about anything and everything, and for some reason, every customer came in with a personal vendetta against you and you alone. And to top it all off, some creep wouldn't stop making comments at you on the train back home.

You're so desperate to just curl up in bed and hide from the world that you forgo the thought of dinner or cleaning like you had planned all together.

For what feels like hours, you lay there. Until the sun falls in the sky and your room fades into darkness. Unwilling to move even an inch to flip a light on or check your phone. Your apartment stays dead silent. Eventually, you hear the front door open and shut, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching closer. They pause just outside your bedroom door.

"Baby, are you in there?" Comes a voice, one so soft you nearly burst into tears from the sound of it alone. "I'm coming in, okay?"

The knob turns and in comes Seokmin, illuminated by a halo of light that pours in from the hallway. He takes one look at you and frowns. "Are you okay?" He asks, setting your spare key and his phone on your dresser before sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I got really worried when you weren't answering after work," he continues. "What happened?"

"It's fine, Seok," you sigh, already feeling like a burden on him. "But it's been a long day and I just really want to handle it alone, okay? I'm sorry you came all the way here."

He just stares at you, sad eyes searching your face for some type of answer. You feel like you've just kicked a puppy asking him to leave, but it's best this way. Seokmin's heart is far too soft, ready to soak up every ounce of negative emotion it can for him to bear the weight of. And you hate seeing Seokmin sad.

"You don't have to handle it alone though, that's what I'm here for." You really wish you could return his cheery optimism and put him at ease, but instead, you simply turn in your cocoon so you won't have to face his disappointed expression. Yet somehow, that doesn't deter him.

Whereas anyone else probably would've up and left by now, Seokmin simply scoops you up into his arms, blankets and all. He starts pressing wet, sloppy kisses all over your face before you can voice a single protest. Even when you attempt to hide from the barrage of affection in his chest he doesn't let up.

"Seokmin!" You whine, palms coming up to shield your face. He just laughs and easily pulls your wrists away, looping them behind his neck before pressing two more pecks to each cheek. Seokmin leans back to examine your face.

"I'm not stopping until you smile."

"I appreciate you trying but–"

Yet another merciless attack befalls your face, this time with exaggerated mwuahs for good measure. Though every few kisses, Seokmin mutters small, sincere 'I love yous' that begin to chip away at the walls you'd so desperately tried to construct.

So when your boyfriend finally pulls back for a second time he begins to beam with pride at the lopsided smile ghosting your lips. "There it is," he coos, softly lifting your chin with his thumb. "Now tell me, what almost stole my favorite sight in this world from me?"

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

[mahteeez]

⎯⎯⎯⎯ 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

(Seokmin x Leitora)

⢷⠀Gênero: Smut, pwp.

⢷⠀Avisos: MDNI, sexo explícito, palavras de baixo calão, leitora é chamada de princesa, amor, lindinha e outros mais, nada que seja verdadeiramente um aviso.

⢷⠀Notas: Curtinho e rapidinho só pra dar aquela molhada na calcinha. Brincadeirinha, eu postei esse anteontem no Spirit e agora a pouco lembrei que ainda não havia o trazido para cá, falha minha. Mas de qualquer maneira, aproveitem!

Nada é mais extasiante para Seokmin do que estar dentro de você, como se ele se sentisse verdadeiramente revigorado ao ter o pau enterrado em sua buceta. Estimulando-a, ele te envolve, cada movimento decidido a intensificar seu prazer, seu maior objetivo.

— Gosta assim, princesa? — A voz de Seokmin soa profunda, cada palavra arrastada enquanto ele afunda em você, seus dedos ágeis e habilidosos pressionando seu clitóris. O toque cuidadoso e ao mesmo tempo exigente é sua promessa de te levar ao limite. Você acena freneticamente, um gemido carregado escapa da sua boca entreaberta enquanto seu corpo se rende a ele, entregue e esparramada entre os lençóis, cada vez mais perto do ápice que ele quer te dar.

— Hm? Você gosta de como meu pau está te esticando? — Ele provoca, e você sabe que ele está sorrindo enquanto diz isso. Seokmin inclina os quadris, buscando o ângulo perfeito para atingir seu ponto G a cada estocada, o calor entre vocês se intensifica. Os lábios dele encontram os seus em um beijo aberto, desesperado, onde seus gemidos e suspiros se misturam enquanto você continua se entregando ao prazer que parece dominar cada parte do seu corpo.

— Ah! Seok... — Você mal consegue formular palavras, reduzida a balbucios e gemidos ofegantes enquanto sente-se à beira do limite. "Vai gozar 'pra mim, amor?" Ele sussurra, ofegante e provocativo. "Vamos, geme 'pra mim... deixa todo mundo saber quem trata essa bucetinha tão bem."

Sua intimidade aperta o pau de Seokmin cruelmente, suas paredes macias e escorregadias pulsando ao redor dele, abrangendo o pau de Seokmin deliciosamente. Ele não se controla, os dedos cravam-se firmes em seus quadris, marcando sua carne como se ele não quisesse te deixar escapar. Seus gemidos altos e agudos ecoam pelo quarto, sobrepondo-se ao som rítmico da cama, que range sem parar.

— Isso, bonequinha, assim mesmo... — Ele murmura com um sorriso selvagem enquanto você geme e xinga o nome dele, cada som mais desesperado. Seokmin captura seus lábios em um beijo intenso, possessivo, e sem tirar os olhos dos seus, sussurra ofegante: — Você aguenta mais um pouquinho, não é? Não faz ideia do quanto eu preciso te encher com a minha porra, lindinha.

⠀

Gostou? Dá uma forcinha aí! Uma curtida, um reblog ou um comentário são mais do que suficientes para eu saber que você se agradou com meu conteúdo :)

Até a próxima, bjsss <3

⠀

[diamonddaze01]

The Somerset Affair Chapter 3: Promises Bathed in Moonlight

pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.8k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, crying, mentions of a panic attack (not being able to breathe), eventual smut, more to be added a/n: sorry sorry i know ch 3 took forever too lol // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys

summary: maybe you really are well and truly alone.

comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here! series masterlist

The First Year: Summer Age 19

The first season after that fateful night was like a hazy dream. When you returned to the social scene, the whispers followed: why had Lord Lee disappeared from your side, so abruptly and publicly, leaving you to stand alone in the wake of his departure?

You endured it with a forced smile, accepting dances from any man who offered. Seokmin, when you saw him, was always nearby yet achingly out of reach, just beyond the edge of the crowd, his gaze never straying to you. Minghao, perhaps sensing the fraught silence between you, would draw you into conversation whenever he could, his manner protective, his eyes wary.

The estate gardens were nothing short of stunning in the late spring. Bursts of red and yellow tulips stretched toward the sky, their vibrant hues softened only by the ivy draping from the nearby trellis. The whole scene was picturesque, brimming with life and warmth. Yet, to you, it held only shadows, echoes of laughter from a time that now felt far away.

You’d meant to pass by quickly, perhaps even avoid the gardens altogether, but the pull was magnetic, the memories nestled there too insistent to ignore. This had been your sanctuary, your haven of whispered secrets and boundless dreams. You had spent countless summer afternoons here with Seokmin, lying on the grass, watching clouds drift lazily by as he teased you with nonsense riddles and ridiculous tales. He’d always made you laugh—those moments had seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with the certainty that nothing would ever change.

But change it had.

Now, as you stood among the tulips, their bright faces tilted toward the sun, you felt as if you were the only one left in shadow. Each flower seemed to mock you, as if asking why you had come back when he was no longer here to share it with you. You could almost hear his laughter in the rustling leaves, a phantom sound that made your heart ache.

You allowed yourself one indulgent moment of memory, one small surrender to the warmth of the past. In that instant, you could almost feel his presence beside you, could almost hear him sigh as he lay back against the grass and urged you to do the same. Tulip, he’d called you once, likening you to the flowers here—delicate, bright, full of life. His voice drifted through your mind like a warm breeze, and you closed your eyes, feeling the bittersweet pang of loss settle deeper into your chest.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the quiet, and you froze. It was the low murmur of a familiar voice—Seokmin’s voice—wafting toward you from the entrance of the garden. You barely made out the words, some easy greeting exchanged with Minghao as the two approached. The cadence of his voice was softer now, more mature perhaps, but unmistakably his. In an instant, the fragile calm you’d managed to summon evaporated, replaced by a panicked urgency to flee.

You turned on your heel, lifting your skirts as you hurried toward a narrow, shaded path, heart pounding as if you were a trespasser in your own sanctuary. You slipped behind the thick ivy-covered trellis, your fingers clutching the delicate lace of your gloves as you pressed your back against the rough wood. There, hidden from sight, you held your breath, willing your heart to quiet, afraid he might hear it even from a distance.

He paused at the garden’s entrance, his voice carrying lightly on the breeze, mingling with the chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. It was a voice you had known too well, one that had once woven a thousand dreams in these very gardens. But now, standing there alone and concealed, all you could feel was the sharp edge of those dreams turned to dust.

You dared not look, dared not even breathe until his voice faded and the crunch of gravel beneath his feet grew distant. Only then did you step out from your hiding place, the scene around you as unchanged and pristine as ever. But it felt different, achingly empty. He was gone, and so, you realized, was something inside you.

Your shoulders slumped as you turned away from the gardens, swallowing against the emotion lodged in your throat. You would not come here again—at least, not alone.

That first year passed slowly, the memory of him shadowing you at every event, every garden, every dance, leaving you both haunted and empty.

The Second Year: Autumn Age 20

As autumn arrived, the weight of that lost season faded slightly, turning to something colder, something sharper. You found yourself no longer seeking him out at every ball. Instead, you steeled yourself, donning an unapproachable mask that suited you better with each passing day. Your brother had chosen to spend the season traveling, claiming that the sea salt of Grecian air was calling him. The absence of his protection meant that you had to sail the rough shores of that season alone – Minghao’s letters were frequent and welcomed, always ready to provide words of assurance from thousands of miles away. 

Your second season was to be markedly different—by your design and no one else’s. The naive enthusiasm of your first season had faded, replaced by a wariness that had hardened around you like a shell. Suitors still called upon you, though they were fewer and far between, and the gentlemen of impeccable standing, those your mother deemed suitable, grew distant with each passing event. They would approach with polite intentions, murmuring some pleasantry or another, only to bow and make haste to another part of the room where more receptive young ladies waited. 

Yet, for all the polite avoidance and empty conversation, there was Lord Yoon Jeonghan, the Viscount of Hastings. He was different—not at all the cold and detached nobleman that society often produced, nor the vapid fop more concerned with his cufflinks than his conversation. He was witty, charming even, and his remarks would often spark a laugh that you could scarcely suppress. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time you spoke, as if you were unraveling a particularly delightful mystery, and for those brief moments, he made you almost forget.

Almost.

You felt his gaze often, lingering in the spaces between words, and sometimes, if you were honest with yourself, it was almost enough to ease the ache that had taken root in your chest. There was a certain warmth to his presence, a lightheartedness that let you slip free from the burdensome weight of the past. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his interest immediately. She seized upon his attentions with thinly veiled glee, her gaze often flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating. She would arrange you beside him at dinners, leave you in his company at the slightest opportunity, her encouragement subtle yet unmistakable.

Jeonghan would lean in close, his words laced with humor, often turning some mundane observation into something absurdly funny. And for a fleeting second, the laughter would come easily, a balm to the bruised and hidden parts of yourself. You allowed yourself to think, Maybe this could work.

But the quiet, hollow ache lingered, a constant reminder of the ghost you could not quite shake. And that ghost was Seokmin.

Seokmin, who watched from across the room, his gaze burning, perceptive as ever. He was polite, distant even, but his presence was always there, like the flicker of candlelight that neither dimmed nor died. You could feel it most keenly when you danced with other men, swirling across the floor to the strains of violins and cellos. Once, as you stepped onto the ballroom floor with Jeonghan, you felt Seokmin’s gaze settle on you from across the room. The intensity of it was enough to make your skin prickle, and suddenly you were painfully aware of every step, every turn.

The first misstep was subtle—a slight stumble over the Viscount’s foot. But as you met Seokmin’s eyes, his brow lifted ever so slightly, a smirk hovering just on the edge of his mouth. That subtle, amused expression set your pulse racing in a way you would never confess. And in your distracted state, you stumbled again, this time nearly losing your balance. Jeonghan chuckled, mistaking your lapse for some charming display of nervousness, too oblivious to realize the true reason for your faltering steps.

Seokmin’s gaze, however, saw straight through you. His smirk was knowing, almost taunting, as though he could see past every mask, every effort you’d put into your newfound resolve. It was maddening—the way he could still get under your skin, the way he seemed to enjoy watching you unravel, even if only for a second. The lingering effects of that look stayed with you long after the music ended, clinging to you like perfume.

And so, you spent the season caught between two worlds. Lord Yoon, with his charm and his lightheartedness, who could ease the bitterness that lay thick upon your heart if only for a while. And Seokmin, a relentless presence, haunting you from across every ballroom and garden, his gaze a tether you could never quite sever. It was a delicate dance, one you performed night after night, hoping, in vain, that one day you would not feel his eyes on you at all.

The afternoon sun angled low over the estate, bathing the drawing room in a cool October light that poured through the high windows, softening the sharp edges of the day. Minghao had just returned from his travels and had brought back a novel he thought you would enjoy—Jane Eyre, by a Miss Brontë. The air was thick with the quiet thrill of this gift, the promise of evenings spent lost in its pages, and you had just begun to express your excitement when Minghao, with his usual calm, announced that Seokmin had accompanied him.

You schooled your face to remain pleasant, though your pulse quickened at the mention of his name. And indeed, there he stood by the door, his posture polite yet tense, hands clasped behind his back, and eyes dark with some unreadable emotion. He offered a slight bow, his gaze fixed on you even as you looked firmly at your brother.

"Did you know," Minghao began, oblivious to the tension in the room as he handed you the book, "that the author published it under a man’s name? Some say it’s because she thought her work would be dismissed otherwise."

You managed a small smile, allowing yourself the momentary reprieve of this topic. “Thank you, Minghao,” you replied, fingers grazing the embossed cover. “I’ll cherish it. It sounds wonderful.”

Across the room, Seokmin shifted, clearing his throat. "Do you find time to read often these days?" His voice was tentative, a hint of hope or maybe familiarity clinging to the question, as if reaching for a bridge long burned.

Your reply was smooth and immediate, though you kept your gaze firmly on Minghao, as if Seokmin had merely been a ghost in the room. "I make time, yes. It’s quite necessary, given the, ah… limited options for conversation."

A faint hint of color rose to Seokmin’s cheeks, but he quickly smothered whatever response he had been about to make. Minghao glanced between you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pieced together the simmering tension, the edges of a puzzle he hadn’t been around to see formed.

There was a brief pause, heavy as stones, before Seokmin tried again. "Do you still ride out to the southern fields? I remember…" He hesitated, his words trailing off before he finished. “The views from the hilltops there were always lovely in the fall.”

It was a simple question, a nod to a pastime you had once enjoyed, but the memories it evoked—the two of you racing across the meadows, laughing breathlessly under the open sky, sharing quiet moments on that hilltop he spoke of—all felt too sharp, too close. You tightened your grip on the book, the rough binding grounding you in the present.

"Occasionally," you murmured, as if speaking to no one in particular. Your tone was clipped, devoid of warmth, and you let the silence stretch, long enough for the weight of his words to fade. After a beat, you forced yourself to stand, smoothing the fabric of your dress as you prepared to excuse yourself. “Please, if you’ll excuse me.”

Seokmin’s face barely shifted, yet the flicker of disappointment that crossed his features was unmistakable. "Wait, please—" he began, his hand reaching out as if to stop you. “I… wanted to know if you might—”

You looked over at Minghao, not giving Seokmin the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. “Thank you for the book, brother,” you said softly. “I’ll look forward to discussing it with you when I’ve read it.” And with that, you turned, leaving the drawing room before Seokmin could finish his thought.

You could feel his eyes on your back, a silent, unyielding weight as you retreated, but you pushed down the churning emotions in your chest.

Later, your mother found you in the library, a faintly exasperated look in her eye. "What has possessed you to act so sharply towards Lord Lee? He is a friend of your brother’s, and a gentleman. I hardly think it was necessary to snub him quite so… thoroughly."

"I simply wasn’t inclined to entertain him," you replied, not lifting your gaze from the book you had barely managed to focus on since leaving the drawing room. “It was not my intention to be rude, Mother.”

She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing. “He asked after you very kindly. And if you cannot manage the simple courtesy of conversation, well…” Her sigh was laden with disappointment, tinged with the faintest trace of resignation. “It does make things rather difficult for you, don’t you think?”

You didn’t respond, clamping your lips shut and focusing on the words of Jane Eyre as if they might hold an escape. What could you say? That politeness was a currency you could not afford to spend on him? That every pleasantry only made the knife in your back twist a little deeper?

There was nothing to be done, and so you said nothing at all. The book lay heavy in your lap, unread, as your mother’s gaze lingered a moment longer, her silence more cutting than words.

The Third Year: Winter Age 21

The winter air nipped at every inch of bare skin as you stepped out of the carriage and into the towering, grand hall where that night’s ball was being held. Snow blanketed the world outside, a thick layer that muffled everything it touched, leaving only the crunch of footsteps and the soft murmur of the wind. The frost bit through your gloves, but it was nothing compared to the cold lodged deep within your chest. You drew yourself up and stepped into the hall, a practiced smile on your face as you greeted the hosts and exchanged pleasantries.

Inside, the ball was already in full swing. Laughter and music filled the air, weaving an intoxicating tapestry of distraction. You navigated through clusters of guests with practiced ease, inclining your head and making idle conversation that barely skimmed the surface. You had come to know the routines well, slipping into this role as though it were armor: a mask of charm, a shield of grace. It kept you safe, even as it kept others at arm’s length.

But then, just as you were making your way toward a friend by the window, you spotted him—Seokmin, across the room. He was surrounded by a small group of gentlemen, his laughter carrying over the din as he shared some amusing story. His cheeks were flushed from the warmth, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you’d once adored. For a moment, a whisper of memory drifted to you unbidden—those nights by the garden, his laughter mingling with the soft hum of summer crickets, a harmony you’d taken for granted. The sight of him now, seemingly unaffected by the hollow ache that had lodged itself so firmly within you, twisted something in your chest.

As though he could feel your gaze, his eyes turned toward you, catching you unprepared. His laughter faded, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, regret, perhaps. Or something more resigned, an acceptance of the chasm that had grown between you. He made no move toward you; there was only a slight nod, a silent acknowledgement of… something. You couldn’t name it, and you didn’t want to try.

It was his easy return to conversation that undid you. The way he turned back to his companions, laughing once more, as if nothing had changed, as if the years you’d spent trying to bury the echoes of that ball could be erased so simply. The laughter that once filled you with warmth now rang hollow in your ears, a reminder of all that was lost and all that could never be reclaimed.

The walls of the ballroom began to feel oppressive, the cloying warmth of bodies and perfume suffocating. You pressed a gloved hand to your temple, feigning discomfort as you turned to your nearest acquaintance. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” you murmured, a faint tremor in your voice that you hoped was undetectable.

“Oh, my dear, are you all right? You do look rather pale,” she said with concern, her eyes scanning your face. “Perhaps some fresh air?”

“Yes,” you managed, barely holding together the thin fabric of your composure. “Yes, that may be best.”

With a polite smile and promises to catch up at the next event, you drifted toward the doorway, slipping through the crowd as unobtrusively as you could. The cold air in the entry hall was a shock, but you welcomed it, letting it bite into your cheeks and ground you.

Soon enough, you found yourself in your room, finally alone. The silent darkness enveloped you, and for the first time that night, you let yourself drop the mask. You sank into the nearest armchair, clutching the armrests as if they could anchor you. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily past the window, catching the moonlight like shards of glass. There was no warmth, no comfort in the scene, only the lingering shadows of a memory that refused to fade.

You had no energy to reach for a book, nor did you bother lighting the fireplace. Instead, you sat, letting the silence swell around you, filling the empty spaces that had been left in Seokmin’s wake. Your gaze lingered on the frost etching delicate patterns across the glass, and for a moment, you wondered if he was still at the ball, still laughing, still untouched by the winter that had settled so deep within you.

It felt almost foolish to mourn something you had lost so long ago, but as the hours slipped by, you couldn’t bring yourself to shake the feeling.

The bitterness reached new heights that year. Your relationship with Minghao, however, began to shift. He sensed your resolve, noticed the way you shrank from any mention of Seokmin, and quietly took up the role of your champion. He became your shield at social gatherings, a polite, steadfast presence whenever your mother hinted at your dwindling prospects or a suitor left you standing alone. Your mother’s eyes, ever watchful, lingered upon you with a barely hidden concern, her gaze darting to the eligible gentlemen nearby and then to you with that familiar, expectant look.

“You know,” she began in a low voice, “if you were only a touch more… approachable, it might encourage the young men here to consider you more seriously.”

You forced a small smile, the words heavy and stale from years of repetition. “I’ll do my best, Mama.”

But before she could respond, a familiar voice joined the conversation.

“Ah, I see my sister is charming everyone tonight,” Minghao remarked smoothly as he appeared beside you, offering a short bow to your mother. “May I borrow her for a moment?”

Your mother’s gaze softened—she had never worried over Minghao as she did with you, and his title afforded him some measure of leniency that you could never claim. She nodded, though her expression remained faintly expectant as she watched you both step away.

Minghao led you toward the edge of the ballroom, his arm steady around yours as you wove through the crowd. Once there, he turned to you with a look that spoke of both amusement and concern.

“You looked ready to flee,” he observed, a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Would you like a few minutes’ reprieve?”

You sighed, grateful for his intervention. “I was beginning to feel like a prized cow at market,” you replied, tone dry. “Thank you for sparing me.”

He chuckled softly, but his expression grew more serious as he studied you. “I noticed Mother watching you rather closely. And I know her remarks can be… persistent.”

“Persistent is a kind way of putting it,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper. “She insists that my chances dwindle each season, that—” You cut yourself off, pressing your lips together to hold back the frustration that threatened to spill over.

Minghao’s gaze softened, and he sighed, reaching out to adjust the lace of your cuff in a gentle, brotherly gesture. “You’ve nothing to prove to her or to anyone else here,” he said quietly. “If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll be here to see you through the night.”

Despite the stifling heat of the ballroom, his presence felt like a breath of fresh air—a lifeline against the unrelenting pressure of society and its expectations.

“And if any gentleman dares to turn his back on you tonight,” he added, his voice adopting a playful lilt, “I shall personally see to it that he regrets it.”

The corners of your mouth lifted into a small, appreciative smile. Minghao’s protectiveness was a comfort you rarely admitted to needing, but tonight, you couldn’t help feeling grateful that he saw past your composed exterior to the worry lingering beneath.

The music shifted to a slower waltz, and he extended his hand with a knowing smile. “Shall we dance, sister? A waltz is far more agreeable than enduring Mother’s lectures, I assure you.”

You accepted his hand, letting him lead you to the center of the room. As you twirled together, the swirling silks and laughter around you faded into the background, leaving only the familiar warmth of his presence.

After a moment, he leaned in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “And for what it’s worth,” he murmured, “you have no need of any of these foppish gentlemen. They should consider themselves lucky if they could win even a passing glance from you.”

The sincerity in his words soothed you, and for a brief moment, the ballroom was no longer a daunting place, nor its occupants a source of anxiety. Minghao’s quiet strength steadied you, his steadfast support as dependable as the rhythm of the waltz beneath your feet.

Yet, even with Minghao’s silent support, Seokmin’s laughter ringing through the ballroom haunted you, echoing a reminder of what you once had and what you had lost.

Across the room, your gaze flickered to a familiar figure, the Lord Viscount Yoon, the lightness of his presence breaking through your somber thoughts. He had been different—his clever banter had a way of making even the most mundane topics feel lively and engaging. When he spoke, it was as if he was inviting you into an exclusive circle of shared secrets and laughter, making you momentarily forget the weight of expectations pressing down on you. 

Even now, he stood amidst a group of gentlemen, engaging in light banter that sent ripples of laughter through the crowd. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time he caught your gaze, but he looked away just as quickly, as if your newfound prickly attitude was enough to scare him away. 

Over time, your disinterest had made him less willing to approach you. Though he had shown interest the previous year, the glow in his eyes now held a tinge of uncertainty, as if he had begun to doubt whether your heart remained open to him. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his hesitance, her gaze flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating.

“Perhaps if I were a bit more approachable,” you murmured to Minghao, who nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward Jeonghan.

“Sometimes, it takes more than just approachability,” he replied quietly. “He is a good man, but the more you withdraw, the more he may think he should step back.”

You let the thought linger in your mind, but it was soon drowned out by the sight of Seokmin across the room, leaning in to laugh politely with another woman, a vision of laughter and ease that made your heart twist painfully. The vibrant atmosphere of the ball blurred around you, filled with the laughter of others while your own heart sank, caught between the past and the possibility of a future—one you feared might never be yours again.

The Fourth Year: Spring Age 22

Spring came late that year, but the blossoms in the garden were the most vibrant you had ever seen. Tulips, bright and full of life, lined the path outside your drawing room window. Their sight brought an unwelcome reminder of Seokmin, as if they were mocking the pain that had dulled over the years but never truly healed.

One fateful morning, Seokmin arrived at the estate again, waiting for Minghao in the drawing room. You entered the room unaware of his presence, intending to retrieve a letter you had left on the table. The shock of finding him there, standing alone, was enough to root you to the spot.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. “How have you been?” he asked, breaking the silence, his tone formal but softened by something more vulnerable.

“I try to stay busy,” you replied, refusing to meet his gaze, your own fixed on the tulips outside the window, as if they alone could fortify your resolve. The way they leaned toward the glass, reaching out, seemed a cruel reminder of what you could never reach. You clung to your indifference, fearing that one look at him would undo you.

“Ah,” he replied, his voice barely a murmur. “I see.”

The silence was unbearable, stretching long and wide between you, filled with all the words you had left unsaid. For the first time, you could sense his unease, as though he, too, felt the weight of everything that had come between you. You imagined he might say more, but instead, he fell silent, unwilling or unable to breach the chasm.

When Minghao finally entered the room, his gaze shifted from Seokmin to you, sensing the tension immediately. He offered a warm, lighthearted greeting that brought some relief, yet you felt exposed, as though Seokmin could still see every last flicker of pain beneath your carefully controlled exterior. Minghao’s easy conversation filled the room, and you seized on it as a lifeline, grateful that the moment had passed.

But as you left the drawing room, something inside you felt irrevocably changed. The wound you thought had healed now ached anew, as raw and fresh as ever.

Age 22

The season has turned again, and as you step into the grand ballroom, you are met with a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that fill the air with an electric energy. The chandelier overhead sparkles like a constellation of stars, its crystal droplets refracting the warm glow of candlelight that dances across the room. The polished wooden floors gleam underfoot, reflecting the vivid hues of the gowns that swirl around you like petals caught in a gentle breeze.

After five seasons on the market, the whispers of society have cast you in the role of a spinster. No longer the young debutante brimming with promise, you now find yourself almost a chaperone to the eager, wide-eyed debutantes navigating their first seasons. Your newest charge, Sohee, is a whirlwind of youthful exuberance, her bright pink dress adorned with intricate floral appliqués that seem to bloom against her pale skin. The bodice sparkles with tiny beads, catching the light as she twirls, her laughter ringing like bells. You can see the nervous energy in her movements, the way her hands flutter as she points out various gentlemen across the ballroom.

“Oh, look at Lord Lee—what a fine dancer!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement as she gazes at Seokmin. His deep navy jacket contrasts sharply with the pristine white of his shirt, and the cravat around his neck is tied with an effortless elegance that only enhances his charm. The way he carries himself, relaxed and confident, seems to draw the attention of everyone around him.

You try to mask the bitterness rising within you as you observe him. Seokmin entertains Sohee’s infatuated chatter with polite smiles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. For a fleeting moment, you are grateful that she has captured his attention, but then the weight of your own feelings crashes over you like a cold wave. The ache in your chest deepens as memories flood your mind—long summers spent chasing fireflies, laughter echoing through the fields as he playfully pursued you with a worm on a stick, or the way he would reward your sharp tongue with that unguarded, carefree laughter.

As if drawn by some invisible thread, Seokmin’s gaze suddenly shifts, catching yours from across the room. Your heart leaps into your throat, a jolt of surprise and embarrassment coursing through you. Mortified that he has noticed your lingering stare, you quickly avert your eyes, but the warmth of your cheeks betrays you. You want to disappear into the vibrant crowd, to escape the intensity of your emotions that seem to swell with every passing second. Yet, even as you force yourself to engage with Sohee’s exuberant chatter, you can feel the weight of Seokmin’s gaze resting on you, a silent reminder of everything you’ve lost and the connection you once shared.

It is a cruel twist of fate, standing on the sidelines while young girls like Sohee chase the dreams you once held so dear. You find yourself in this role, a guide for the naive and hopeful, all the while wishing that you could feel that same thrill of possibility. The grand ballroom, alive with laughter and music, feels both enchanting and suffocating, each dance a reminder of the joys that have slipped through your fingers.

As the music swells and couples begin to sway across the polished floor, you catch glimpses of Sohee and Seokmin amidst the swirling gowns and dapper jackets. They move with an innocent delight that contrasts starkly with the weight of your unspoken feelings. Sohee beams up at him, her laughter bright and infectious, and for a moment, the sight softens the edges of your heartache.

Just then, you feel a presence beside you, and when you turn, you find Viscount Yoon Jeonghan standing there, a knowing smile dancing on his lips. His appearance is as striking as ever; his tailored coat hugs his frame perfectly, and the delicate embroidery along the cuffs catches the light, giving him an almost ethereal glow. His hair falls elegantly around his face, framing those sharp features that always seem to hold a hint of mischief.

“They make quite a pair, do they not?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and warm as he gestures subtly toward the young couple. His eyes sparkle with a mix of humor and curiosity, and for a moment, you’re reminded of the lighthearted conversations you once shared, the way he could lift your spirits without even trying.

You glance back at Sohee and Seokmin, your heart twisting at the sight of them. “It seems so,” you reply, your tone nonchalant, though the bitterness seeps through. “She is quite taken with him.”

Jeonghan’s gaze lingers on the two, but then shifts back to you, an amused glimmer in his eyes. “And yet, I believe it’s Seokmin’s charm that keeps her so enchanted. He has a way of making everyone feel special, does he not?” His words are light, but there’s an underlying sincerity that pulls you in.

“Especially the younger ones,” you add, your voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. You cross your arms, an instinctive barrier against the swell of emotions threatening to break free. Jeonghan tilts his head, studying you with an intensity that makes you self-conscious.

“Ah, but don’t let that dampen your spirits,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I suspect that there’s still magic left in your own waltz.”

You scoff softly, trying to hide the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “I’ve had my dance, my Lord. It’s only right that I help guide the next generation.”

He nods, as if he understands more than you’ve revealed. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little bit of the spotlight yourself, does it?” His gaze holds yours for a moment longer, an invitation hanging in the air between you.

Taking a deep breath, you accept his invitation with a gentle nod. Jeonghan extends his hand, and with a sense of determination, you place yours in his. The moment you step onto the dance floor, a familiar spark ignites between you. As you move, you find the rhythm of the waltz is an intoxicating escape from the weight of the evening.

His touch is confident yet gentle, guiding you with an ease that sends warmth through your veins. You laugh softly at his playful quips, the way he effortlessly spins you and twirls you beneath the glimmering chandelier. The surrounding laughter and chatter fade into a soft background hum as the two of you lose yourselves in the moment.

But just as you begin to forget the lingering ache in your heart, a commotion draws your attention away. You glance over to find Sohee in an animated conversation with Seokmin, her eyes wide with excitement. She appears to be swooning—her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink as she clutches her fan, fluttering it in the air as if to cool herself.

And then it happens. As the waltz concludes and the music reaches its crescendo, Seokmin leans down to retrieve Sohee's fan, which had slipped from her grasp in her flurry of emotion. The way he effortlessly picks it up and hands it back to her is undeniably charming. She gazes up at him with unrestrained adoration, and in that moment, it’s as if the entire ballroom falls silent, the air thick with their connection.

Your heart sinks, the joyous moment turning into a bitter reminder of your own unfulfilled longing. You feel the weight of your own feelings crashing down, suffocating the lightness of the dance you just shared with Jeonghan. The innocence of Sohee’s crush, her delight at Seokmin’s attention, stabs at something deep within you, twisting the knife of your heartache just a little deeper.

“Lord Lee is such a gentleman,” Sohee breathes, her eyes sparkling with admiration. You try to smile, but the corners of your mouth feel heavy, the happiness you should feel for her overshadowed by the ache in your chest.

“Quite the pair, indeed,” Jeonghan murmurs beside you, his tone shifting slightly. You glance up at him, but the amusement in his eyes has dimmed, replaced with a knowing sympathy that only intensifies your discomfort.

“I should—” you start, desperate to escape the scene unfolding before you, but Jeonghan catches your gaze, his expression serious yet gentle.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly, concern lacing his voice.

You swallow hard, nodding even though you can feel the tears threatening to brim. “Yes, of course. It’s just… a reminder of what I’ve lost.”

Jeonghan’s eyes soften, understanding radiating from him. “Then let’s step outside for a moment, shall we? A breath of fresh air might do you good.”

You nod again, grateful for his presence, and together you slip away from the dancing couples, leaving behind the laughter and music, hoping the cool night air will ease the weight on your heart. As you step outside, the crisp night air envelops you like a silken shawl, drawing you away from the swirling gaiety of the ballroom. The coolness is a welcome reprieve from the warmth of bodies and laughter, and you relish the soft caress of the breeze against your skin, bringing with it a gentle rustling of leaves that whispers secrets from the garden. The scent of blooming jasmine and sweet honeysuckle mingles in the air, heady and intoxicating, wrapping around you like a lover’s embrace.

You move to the stone balcony, where the moon hangs low in the sky, its silvery glow spilling over the manicured gardens below, illuminating the delicate petals of the flowers that sway gently in the evening light. The grass is cool beneath your feet, a delightful contrast to the warmth of your silk gown, and you can feel the slight dampness of dew beginning to settle on the earth, a reminder of the approaching night.

Fidgeting with the lace hem of your gown, you feel the fabric whisper against your ankles, the soft silk cool to the touch. Your heart races as you catch sight of Jeonghan stepping out to join you, his tall frame silhouetted against the glow of the moonlight. He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You love him,” he states matter-of-factly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” You turn to him, surprise etched across your features. Your fingers tighten around the delicate lace, twisting it nervously as if it could shield you from his piercing gaze.

“It is nothing to shy away from,” he continues, his tone surprisingly earnest. “I have observed the two of you for years, engaging in this delightful dance around each other. You love him. That is a fact. Do not shy away from it—love is a beautiful thing, even if it is tinged with loss.”

You force a laugh, the sound almost bitter. “You sound as though you speak from experience.”

“And if I am?” Jeonghan counters, his brow arching slightly, inviting you to delve deeper into the conversation.

“Why, then,” you reply, your heart racing with a mixture of intrigue and dread, “it cannot be that only my secrets are shared tonight.”

“Lady Choi,” he says, the shift in his tone unmistakable, as though he is unearthing a long-buried truth.

“The general’s wife?” you ask, the name escaping your lips with an air of disbelief.

His eyes darken, and for a moment, the lightness of the evening is overshadowed by the weight of his admission. “She was mine first,” he admits, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion. “But her father—he was a cruel man—wished to marry her off before I ever had the chance to court her properly, as adults.”

You draw a sharp breath, the air suddenly feeling thick and heavy around you. “Lord Yoon, it is a sin to desire another man’s wife,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as they continue to play with the delicate fabric of your gown.

“And it is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours,” he replies, a note of melancholy creeping into his voice. “It seems we are both trapped in a most unfortunate dilemma, Miss Xu.”

You hesitate, the truth of his words resonating within you like the toll of a distant bell. You find yourself gazing at the garden below, the moonlight casting long shadows across the path. “I… suppose.”

His expression softens, the tension between you easing slightly as he steps closer, the distance shrinking as if the night conspires to bring you together. “I have an idea, if you are amenable to it,” he proposes, his voice low and conspiratorial.

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piquing despite the tumult of your thoughts. “I suppose I have no choice but to hear it.”

“Let us… have an arrangement of sorts.”

Your mind races, the absurdity of the suggestion both ludicrous and strangely enticing. “An… arrangement?” you repeat, incredulous, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“A loveless marriage is better than none at all,” he declares, his eyes glinting with a mixture of seriousness and mischief.

You laugh, unable to contain yourself. “You jest. Have you indulged in more champagne than you can manage?”

“I assure you, I am as clear-headed as the sky on a summer’s day,” he insists, maintaining eye contact with a steady gaze that makes your heart flutter. “We are friends, are we not?”

“Friends? My lord, we have danced a few times, to my mother’s delight,” you reply, a teasing lilt in your voice, though your heart feels heavier with the weight of his words.

He feigns a look of mock hurt, placing a hand theatrically over his heart. “You wound me! We have enjoyed such spirited conversations! I do consider you a friend. And a marriage with a friend—a viscount at that—is nothing to scoff at. Have you given no thought to your future? What happens when your dear brother finds a wife and you are no longer his primary concern?”

The reality of his words settles over you, sending a shiver down your spine. You search the moonlit path, pondering the path that lies ahead. “Just… think about it,” he presses, his voice earnest, the night seemingly holding its breath.

The silence stretches between you, the world around you fading as you consider the proposal. You raise your gaze to his, a flurry of emotions swirling in your heart.

But as the moment hangs in the air, he steps back, creating a chasm of space between you once more. The hope in his eyes flickers like the stars above, illuminating the path of unspoken possibilities.

With a lingering glance, Jeonghan turns to leave, the quiet night reclaiming its stillness. Alone now, you stand beneath the watchful gaze of the moon, a companion that seems to mock your predicament, its light dancing across your skin like a playful breeze. The weight of the evening settles around you, the possibilities of what could have been lingering like a sweet perfume in the air. The garden around you, fragrant and alive, seems to echo your turmoil, the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of crickets a reminder that you are not as alone as you feel—but still, the loneliness wraps around you like a heavy cloak, suffocating and inescapable.

The Queen’s Garden is even more stunning at twilight, an exquisite tapestry of flora bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. Lanterns hang from the branches of ancient trees, casting a warm glow that mingles with the fading daylight, creating a magical ambiance that enchants every guest present. Lush greenery and blooming flowers adorn the paths, their fragrant scents—jasmine, roses, and honeysuckle—drifting through the air like a sweet serenade.

As you weave your way through the throngs of elegantly dressed nobles, the cool evening breeze brushes against your skin, a refreshing contrast to the warmth radiating from the lively crowd. The sounds of laughter and spirited conversation wrap around you, punctuated by the delicate notes of a string quartet nestled among the trees, their melodies intertwining with the soft rustle of leaves overhead.

Amidst the gaiety, you scan the faces around you, searching for Sohee. Her absence hangs like a whisper, pulling at your awareness.

Just then, your gaze lands on Lord Yoon Jeonghan, standing across the garden. His tall frame commands attention, and as you meet his eyes, he offers you a teasing wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. He raises his glass in a casual salute, a playful reminder of the “arrangement” he proposed only weeks prior.

But as you turn to continue your search, you hear a soft rustle behind the curtains of the powder room. A frown creases your brow, and with a sense of trepidation, you pull the curtains aside.

What you find steals the breath from your lungs: Sohee, her dress slightly askew, caught in an intimate embrace with Seokmin, hidden from view. Time seems to freeze as you process the scene before you, the vibrant colors of the garden fading into a blur.

They don’t notice your entrance, the warmth of their laughter drifting toward you, blissfully unaware of the precariousness of their moment. A wave of urgency washes over you; you step back, the laughter and music of the ball dimming behind you, overwhelmed by the tension in the air.

The cool mask of indifference you wear feels like a fragile façade, barely holding up against the storm of emotions roiling within you. Every heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythmic reminder of the tension crackling in the air. You force yourself to breathe slowly, deliberately, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mingling with the sharp tang of night air filling your lungs.

You clear your throat, breaking the stillness that envelops the hidden corner where Sohee and Seokmin stand. Your posture is straight, your chin lifted, but your palms feel clammy against the lace of your gown.

“Sohee,” you say, your voice steady and cool, as though dipped in ice, “you should return to your Mama. If anyone else had seen you like this, it would ruin you.” The words hang in the air, each syllable heavy with consequence. You hold her gaze, your eyes fierce, willing her to understand the gravity of the situation.

Sohee’s eyes widen, vulnerability flickering across her face like candlelight. The flush staining her cheeks deepens as she processes your words, a mixture of mortification and gratitude washing over her. She nods, biting her lip, and you watch as she slips past you, shoulders squared despite the embarrassment, grateful for your discretion.

Once she disappears back into the sea of guests, the atmosphere shifts. It’s just you and Seokmin now, the weight of the moment pressing down like a thick fog, the sounds of the ballroom fading into a dull roar. For the first time in years, you stand alone with him, the years of silence and distance palpable between you.

You turn to leave, the flutter of your gown trailing behind you, but his voice stops you, soft and tentative, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Please, don’t go.”

You whirl around, disbelief etched across your features. “Why on earth? What are you doing here?” Your heart pounds, and your fists clench at your sides, the intensity of the moment clawing at your composure.

He takes a step closer, the distance between you shrinking, but the space feels charged with electricity. The use of that name—“tulip”—falls from his lips like a spark igniting a fire inside you. Anger bubbles to the surface, your fingers curling into fists. “You have no right to call me that anymore.”

His expression shifts, desperation creeping into his tone as he opens his palms, a gesture of vulnerability. “It’s been four years, and you still won’t give me the chance to explain myself.”

Your chest tightens at the memories, sharp and unyielding, a storm of emotions swirling within you. “So was it because Minghao told you to?”

His gaze darkens, the flicker of regret visible in his eyes. “Yes, but you need to—”

“Good evening, Seokmin.” The words slip from your mouth like ice, cold and final. You turn to leave, your back straight but your heart racing, and he reaches for you, fingers brushing against your arm like a whisper.

You jerk away, anger and hurt surging through you, the fabric of your dress catching in the air as you turn. “Please, stay,” he begs, his voice thick with emotion, almost desperate. “Stay and let me explain—”

You shake your head slowly, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken history. “You lost the right to that four years ago.” Your voice softens, but the resolve behind it remains, a quiet storm ready to break. In a flurry of lace and silk, you turn on your heel, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the thick grass as you leave him standing there, a distant silhouette against the vibrant backdrop of the garden.

The night air feels cooler as you weave through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. You seek solace in the bustling ballroom, where laughter and music swirl around you, a cacophony that drowns out the echo of your heartache. The warmth of the candles flickers against your skin, the soft glow momentarily comforting amidst the chaos.

The crowd shifts around you, a blur of color and laughter, but everything feels muted—distant—as you navigate back toward the main hall. Your heart still pounds, each beat a reminder of the encounter that lingers, bitter as smoke. And then, across the room, a familiar pair of eyes finds yours: Jeonghan. His gaze is intent, assessing, and as he raises his glass to you with an amused smirk, his words from weeks before echo in your mind: “It is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours.”

The decision is instant, unbidden, like the snap of a thread pulled too tight. Steeling yourself, you weave through the crowd toward him, your mind clearing with each step. Jeonghan turns slightly as you approach, his attention shifting from the men he’d been conversing with. You stop just a breath away, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you, even as laughter and chatter fill the air.

“My lord,” you say, voice steady as a blade.

He raises an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Miss Xu?” His eyes gleam in the low light, the gold of the candle flames reflecting in them. “I must say, you look rather lovely in this garden.”

“Yes.” The word is simple, yet it feels like a vow, a quiet certainty.

His smile falters for just a second, replaced by a glimmer of surprise in his eyes before he quickly recovers. He leans in slightly, his voice softened but no less intent.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice calm but resolute. “I shall marry you.”

Jeonghan’s expression settles into something unreadable, a flicker of surprise replaced by the slightest tilt of a smile. He inclines his head, the elegant motion drawing him closer, as though sealing the moment between you.

“A wise decision, Miss Xu,” he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. The sounds of the garden around you blur into silence, the perfume of roses and night-blooming jasmine heavy on the air, and though the world presses on with its merriment, this quiet promise, made in the hush of the queen’s garden, feels irrevocable.

Tagging: @kibs-and-bits@moondustmemories@shinwonderful@ivehypnosis@gwend0lyne@thestoryofana13@mellowamour@blissedjoon@begentlewithme-please @xabsolutelynothingx @reiofsuns2001 @mngyulvrs @mooniewrld @archivistworld @lexyraeworld @ateez-atiny380 @walkinganxiety01 @lovecleastrange @uriguyeok @nenojaems @carefully325 @meowmeowminnie @ts19009 @flickhurstyles

[seungcheorry]

thinking about dokyeom underneath you, with his blue silky blouse open wide.

his eyes are closed shut, his honey colored chest covered in a thin layer of sweat as he groans, pushing his head further into the couch's cushion. you get a perfect view of his neck, wanting nothing more than to sink your teeth into its skin, leave some marks - but you know you can't.

"shiiit", and another groan as you sink yourself on him.

his chest is broad enough to accommodate both your hands now, letting you use it as a laverage for your movements.

it's raw, and it's quick paced because dokyeom meets your movements halfway through it, too desperate to feel you and to empty himself in you.

his hands loosely hold your hips, the dampness on both your skins making it too difficult to grab its flesh.

"fuck, love, it feels so good", he mumbles through short breaths. his eyes are open now, watching where you two connect and he disappears inside you.

dokyeom can feel everything, from the way you're so warm around him to the way his heart is beating fast against your palm; from the excitement of having you again to the risk of getting caught by his manager.

it feels dirty, and that just arouses him even more. the sounds you're making do not help at all, breathy moans that don't echo through the room but go straight into dokyeom's ears - and ego.

he is gone, though, the moment you take one of his hands and bring it to your mouth, lips circling both his index and middle finger to suck on it.

"shit, shit, shit", dokyeom squirms underneath you. "love, i'm gonna cum. i-'m gonna-"

his climax washes over him hard and fast, and he's more than surprised when you don't stop bouncing on him, chasing your own high as he rides out his.

the overstimulation kicks in just as you cum too, finally slowing down on top of him. dokyeom is a mess, there are dark spots on his blue blouse caused by sweat, he can feel both his and your release dripping from you and sticking to his lower abdomen and thighs too, and he knows his makeup must be ruined.

still, he would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

[chheolie]

i kinda dreamed i was having a big argument with seokmin, so i decided to write down how it went….. sorry, it turned into a bit of an angst

the muffled sound of the crowd in the stadium seeped into the backstage dressing room as the staff adjusted your outfit. you tried to focus on the conversation with your group members, but this definitely wasn’t your day. you did vocal warm-ups, trying to concentrate solely on the show that was about to begin.

you knew he was there; you heard him greeting everyone with his sweet and gentle manner, but you forced yourself not to glance back at him.

“i came to wish you a good show, love,” he said, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“thank you,” you pulled away from his embrace, pretending to adjust your bracelets.

he frowned, noticing how strange you were acting. “is everything okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you, but you moved away.

“yes, everything’s fine. i’m just trying to focus,” you replied without looking at him, your tone colder than you intended.

seokmin remained silent for a moment, thoughts beginning to swirl in his mind. he didn’t understand the reason for your coldness but decided not to press you at that moment. “alright. i’ll be watching you,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

“okay,” you said before heading toward the stage. seokmin stood there, watching you walk away with a strange feeling gnawing at his mind. something was wrong, and he had no idea what.

as you performed, seokmin watched you from the side of the stage with a few members. while the guys cheered, seokmin, although admiring you immensely on stage, was distracted, filled with questions. why were you avoiding him? what could he have done to make you act this way?

when the performance ended, you left the stage with a deep sigh of relief, glad you had managed to get through it without faltering, without showing the audience that you were not okay.

the guys congratulated you, what seokmin wanted most was to be there doing the same, but you had built a wall between you recently.

“what happened, y/n?” he asked cautiously, when he could finally be alone with you. “why do i feel like you don’t want me around?”

you sighed, trying to balance the tension you were feeling. “we’ll talk later, you still have a show to perform.” you turned to the mirror to remove your accessories. “i don’t want to distract you.”

“distract me from what? please, y/n, i’m going crazy trying to figure out what’s going on in your head.” he was losing patience with your mystery.

reluctantly, you started to speak. “it’s about yesterday…”

“what about yesterday?” he leaned on the vanity, standing next to you, looking at you, hoping you would look at him too.

his presence there, so close, drew your attention. his gaze pleaded for an answer. you took a deep breath, feeling defeated.

you went to your bag and took out your phone, opened the group chat you have with your members, and showed him one of the photos that had been sent there. then you turned the screen so he could see.

he looked at the photo and then back at you, waiting for an explanation.

“why wasn’t i there?” you asked with sadness in your voice.

before he could answer, you continued, “i didn’t even know you guys went out. i was left out, and it feels like… like i don’t matter.”

you felt deeply hurt when you opened the messages and saw that photo. in it, your boyfriend was happy with some members of his group and yours. you weren’t there; no one asked if you wanted to join. seokmin simply forgot about you.

seokmin blinked, surprised. “love… i thought you just didn’t want to go.”

“of course, it makes perfect sense for me to think it’s fine for you all to be so close in that photo while i’m in my hotel room doing nothing,” you replied sarcastically.

you were referring to a member of your group who is a close friend of seokmin, a friendship that often shakes your insecurities.

“y/n, i didn’t even notice… i was just with my friends. you’re overreacting,” he was shocked by how you were reacting.

“sure…” you took your phone from his hand and turned away, complaining. “you don’t understand how i feel, so we don’t need to continue this…” you bent down to put your phone in the corner of the room.

“this is ridiculous.” his voice came out loudly, making you turn to look at him. “you’re making something out of nothing. just stop!”

you felt a pang in your heart and the urge to cry started to rise, but you refused to break down in front of him.

“ridiculous? what’s ridiculous? my feelings?” you asked, still bent over, staring into his eyes. “it’s fine, seokmin, keep ignoring how i feel.”

“i’m not ignoring it, but i can’t control how you feel. this is your insecurity, not my fault,” he retorted, not realizing the weight of his words until it was too late.

you were left speechless, unable to respond. you had reached your limit. you blinked, feeling tears run down, but you refused to let them fall completely. “i… never mind. have a good show, seokmin,” was all you could say before turning and walking out, leaving him standing there, slowly realizing the impact of what he had said.

he went on stage feeling a heavy weight on his shoulders. throughout the show, he managed, as best as he could, to keep things together, although it wasn’t easy to be the playful, energetic dk he used to be on stage. but at one specific moment, he faltered.

it was when jeonghan asked if the audience enjoyed the previous show. seokmin was overwhelmed with emotion, realizing how insensitive he had been to you. the regret was so strong that he couldn’t hold back the tears.

when they finally got off stage, the members went to check what had happened to leave him in such a state. he still hadn’t shared with them because he didn’t want to think about it too much.

“i just need to talk to y/n,” he replied, as he sobbed.

“did you two have a fight?” seungcheol asked calmly, touching his member’s shoulder.

seokmin nodded, “and i was an idiot.” he could barely speak.

“don’t worry, you love each other… i know you’ll be able to work it out.” the leader tried to reassure his member, who had a desperate look on his face.

“hyung, where is y/n?” seokmin asked as the manager approached.

“uh… she left shortly after you went on stage,” he answered awkwardly.

“she left…?” seokmin asked with a trembling voice, and the manager nodded with concern.

you were in your hotel room. you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, so you began your skincare routine to prepare your skin for a night’s sleep, which you knew wouldn’t be very restful.

seokmin going out with his friends without you isn’t something that bothers you that much, really. but whenever she is involved, things feel different for you. it’s as if you’re haunted. she’s a member of your group, and you have a great relationship. but because she’s so beautiful, so sociable, and incredibly talented, sometimes you weigh yourself and wonder why seokmin is still with you.

but, of course, he only has eyes for you, and you are the only one who holds his heart. you caught him from the very first time you saw each other, and he’s so in love with you that your insecurity makes no sense to him. he simply cannot envision a scenario where he would have to choose between someone and you. because, for him, it has always been you. since day one.

the sound of the door unlocking jolted you from your thoughts. you knew it was him. although you weren’t sharing the same room, both of you had access to each other’s rooms.

“y/n… i…” his voice was trembling, clearly afraid of intruding on your space. “can we talk?” he asked.

“what’s left to say, seokmin? isn’t it enough for today?” you asked, looking at him through the reflection of the mirror, remembering how harshly he had scolded you.

“i’m sorry, i hurt you and i’m regretting it.” he took long strides toward you but stopped at the distance you had imposed earlier.

you nodded, tired and lacking the energy to start another round of arguments. but seokmin wanted to make sure you knew just how much he loved you before the day ended.

“i just don’t want to go to bed without you knowing that i love you so much, and at no point did i ever think about replacing you,” he started, his voice filled with sincerity.

“you are unique in my heart and in my thoughts,” he continued, his eyes shining with intensity. “damn, y/n, only you give me what i need, when no one else even notices my wants.”

the tears you had been holding began to fall, his words touching deeply in your heart, which seemed to ache from the love you felt for him.

“what do i need to do for you to understand that there is no one but you?” he asked, defeated.

you approached him cautiously, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him. he immediately wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, holding you as if he never wanted to let you go.

“i’m sorry for doubting your feelings, my love,” you said with your voice muffled, your face buried in his neck. “i love you so much that sometimes i feel like i don’t deserve you.”

“never say that again,” he gently scolded you, still holding you close.

“that i love you?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of humor.

“the other part,” he replied, with a slight laugh. “i’m sorry for not inviting you to hang out with us. i thought the girls had already talked to you.”

“normally, i prefer to stay in the room when we’re on tour, so they don’t even consider inviting me out anymore… they’re used to it,” you explained.

“ah… then i feel twice as guilty,” he admitted, still with a guilty smile on his lips.

“why?” you pulled away a little to look him in the eyes.

“first, for not inviting you, and second, because i usually go out with the guys after the show,” he replied, trying to keep it light.

“hmm… it’s good that we’re on tour together, i’m learning more about what my boyfriend is like when i’m away,” you said, joking.

“am i in trouble?” he asked, his eyes still red from crying minutes earlier.

you responded with a long, calm kiss, your hands stroking his hair, while feeling his smile forming between your lips. seokmin held you, pulling you even closer, as he murmured between kisses: “i love you… i love you so much.”

[nonranghaes]

heads up! poly fic. mentions of reader lacking confidence.

some lazy days with your boyfriends are normal. others… well…

“hannie,” you say through smushed lips, seokmin still giggling as he squishes your cheeks. “help me—“

“but you’re so cute,” seokmin giggles. he knows you’ve been struggling a little with confidence lately. jeonghan knows, too. “look at our cute honey,” seokmin says. “don’t you agree, sunshine?”

jeonghan looks up from his book to see the way seokmin is pinching your cheeks again, babbling about how cute he thinks your face is. “ah. i can’t help you this time,” he says. “sorry, honey.”

you whine again, and manage to turn around in seokmin’s arms. not that that stops the affection: seokmin just continues to giggle and plant kisses on the side of your face and neck. you call to jeonghan again, who finally sets his book aside.

“finally—“

and then he kisses you, long and sweet, before pulling back. “cute,” he whispers, poking the tip of your nose with a teasing smile. “the cutest, i think.”

and so the battle is lost as they team up to whisper all the sweetest, loving things to you. but if it nets you more sweet kisses from your loves… then maybe some battles you could be okay with losing.

[babyleostuff]

[ 💿 ] . . . TAPE 8

오늘 날씬 너를 많이 닮아 / 너에게 가는 길은 꽃길이 되고 / 보일 듯 말 듯한 니 맘 보인다면 / 온몸이 간질간질 두근두근 / 이 기분은 뭐야 어떡해

☁️ "aju nice" by seventeen

being loved by lee seokmin means having a soulmate. he's a hopeless romantic through and through, and even though he's rather rational and realised that soulmates most likely only existed in literature and movies, the moment he met you he quickly understood that they really existed. all he has to do is think about you and his heart is filled with this unconditional and pure love that he knows he will have for you for the rest of his life, no matter how it turns out. he is the person who understands you without words, he is the person who knows you like the back of his hand, he is the person who knows exactly what you need and when you need it. when you are happy, he is happy. when you are sad, he is sad. a true definition of a soulmate.

being loved by lee seokmin means having your personal ray of sunshine. his energy and positivity is infectious to everyone around him and it's almost impossible to be down when he’s around. that's why his presence always helps you through difficult times, not only because of his soothing touch, gentle kisses and words of comfort, but because of his energy. seokmin often doesn't even realise how his mere presence influences you, how it makes you smile despite a tough day - sometimes him just being there for you means more than any words of comfort could convey - his presence is enough to help you cope with a difficult day. seokmin is your ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

being loved by lee seokmin means having a mini koala who would love to cling to you 24/7. i don't think it's necessary to mention what a cuddly and affectionate person seokmin is, but it's worth mentioning that when it comes to you, the affection should be multiplied by at least ten. he loves physical touch, this is one of the ways to show how much he cares about the people around him, so looking at how much he loves you, it's safe to say that if he could, he would cling to you and follow you everywhere (which definitely happens on your days off). but, despite this, he always knows when you need some space or when you're just not in the mood for physical touch, so his affections are never overwhelming or overbearing.

being loved by lee seokmin feels like a sunny day, like the laughter of children playing on the playground, like the smell of coffee or tea in the morning, like life waking up after winter.

“if you live to be a hundred, i want to live to be a hundred minus one day so i never have to live without you.”  - joan powers, pooh's little instruction book

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