#but i keep thinking of that in reflection with 'perfect'

[nerdycheol]

Love, On Air || Choi Seungcheol (valentine's special)

♡ Pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

♡ Genre: best friends to lovers, romance, fluff, slice of life

♡ Word Count: 7.8k

note: Happy Valentine’s Day! 💖 This is a special Valentine’s edition based on the poll results(so if you voted—congrats, you manifested this 👀). A massive shoutout to @facethesunflower for proofreading and making sure this didn’t turn into a total disaster. 😆 Hope you enjoy this fluffy, slightly dramatic, finally-they-confess moment.

Remember: if your best friend is acting suspiciously like Cherry… maybe it’s time to connect the dots. 👀💕

The clock hits 9 PM. You take a deep breath, adjusting the headphones on your ears as the familiar hum of the radio booth wraps around you. The room is small, dimly lit by the soft glow of the equipment and the neon sign flashing LIVE on the wall. 

"Alright, we’re live in 3... 2... 1..."

Your hand hovers over the soundboard as you smile into the mic. 

"Good evening, lovely listeners, and welcome back to The Heartbeat Hour, your go-to late-night show where we talk all things love, relationships, and everything in between," you say, your voice smooth and warm, like a cozy blanket on a cold night. "I’m your host, __ , and tonight is extra special because we’re in the heart of Valentine’s week. So, buckle up, folks—this week’s all about confessions, crushes, and, of course, giving you some advice to help you sort through your feelings."

You press the button for the first song request, the soft strains of a romantic ballad filling the room. As the music plays in the background, your eyes scan the requests that have been flooding in. The chat box is constantly ticking with messages—listeners asking for advice, sharing their love stories, or seeking songs that speak to their hearts. You feel that rush, the adrenaline of knowing you’re connected to so many people in real time.

"Now, I’ve got a message here from a listener who needs a little help," you say, pulling up the request. "This one’s from 'Cherry,' who writes in: ‘I’ve been crushing on someone for a while, but I’m not sure how to confess. Any advice?’"

You let out a small breath, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk as you think. This one’s a classic. You've seen it all before, but every confession still feels fresh. You smile softly into the mic.

"Ah, 'Cherry,' I get it. Confessing your feelings can be scary, but it’s also one of the most real things you can do. Here’s my advice: Keep it simple. No need for grand gestures, no elaborate speeches. Sometimes, the best way to let someone know how you feel is through a small, sincere gesture. Maybe write a note or give them a little gift that shows you’ve been thinking about them. And when you tell them how you feel, just be honest—there’s no such thing as a perfect confession. Just be you."

You pause, feeling the warmth of the words settle into your heart. The music swells in the background, adding to the ambiance of the moment.

"Remember, 'Cherry,' it’s not about getting it perfect—it’s about being brave enough to say it. And hey, the worst that can happen is they don’t feel the same way. But you know what? You’ve still won because you were true to yourself. So take a deep breath and go for it. You got this.”

You let the silence linger for a moment, Cherry’s words still hanging in the air. Then, with a small smile, you reached for the controls.

"Alright, Cherry, and everyone out there holding onto feelings they haven’t found the words for—this one’s for you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to say what’s in your heart, or at the very least, remind you that you’re not alone."

With a soft click, the studio filled with the delicate, wistful melody of "From the start" by Laufey—a song that is the ultimate friends to lovers song for all delusional daydreams.

Leaning back in your chair, you glanced out at the city lights reflecting against the glass. Somewhere, maybe Cherry was listening, hesitating over a letter they weren’t sure they’d ever send. Or maybe, just maybe, they had already begun writing.

After an hour of song requests, confessions, and quiet laughter shared through the airwaves, the LIVE sign dims. You take off your headphones, stretching your neck as the studio falls into silence. Another night, another show wrapped up.

Gathering your notes, you stack them neatly before grabbing your now-lukewarm latte from the desk. The faint chatter of coworkers drifts through the halls—other RJs wrapping up, producers discussing schedules.

"Great show tonight, ___," someone calls out in passing.

"Thanks! See you tomorrow!" you reply with a small smile, pulling on your coat.

Near the exit, your producer glances up. "Don’t forget—tomorrow’s segment is longer for the Valentine’s special. Get some rest!"

"Got it. Night, everyone!"

Pushing open the station doors, you step into the cool night air. The city hums in the distance, but here, it’s quiet—still. You take a slow sip of your latte, savoring the warmth against the crisp breeze.

And then, just a few steps away, you see him.

Leaning against his car, hands tucked into his coat pockets, Seungcheol watches you. The street lamp casts a soft glow over him, catching the faint curve of his lips.

You stop in front of Seungcheol, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

He tilts his head, acting like it’s the most casual thing in the world. "I was just passing through."

You narrow your eyes. "Passing through? Your workplace is nowhere near here."

"Okay, fine," he chuckles, pushing himself off the car. "I thought I’d pick you up. It’s been a while since we had dinner together."

"Ah, I see. You missed me." You smirk, taking another sip of your latte.

"Don’t flatter yourself, " he scoffs, but the amusement in his eyes gives him away.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head before walking around the car. "Alright, alright. Let’s go before you start crying about how I never have time for you."

He pulls open the passenger door for you with a teasing bow. "Your chariot awaits, my lady."

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you slip inside, and he shuts the door before making his way to the driver’s seat.

As he starts the engine, Seungcheol glances at you. "Nice show today."

You blink. "Oh? What’s up, Choiseung? You’re complimenting me?" You raise an eyebrow, grinning.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Forget it. Should’ve just let you believe no one listens to your rambling at night."

"Too late. I’m taking this to heart forever," you joke, leaning back in your seat.

A few minutes into the drive, Seungcheol reaches into his coat pocket and hands you a neatly folded envelope.

"Here."

You glance at it, then at him. "What’s this?"

"Just open it."

Curious, you unfold the letter inside. His familiar handwriting stretches across the page, carefully written, filled with warmth. It’s a simple note—thanking you for being in his life, for always listening, for just being you.

Your heart softens as you read.

"Ohh, Cheol... this is so sweet. Thank you so much, friend." You smile, touched by the gesture.

The moment the word leaves your lips, he freezes—just for a second.

Then, with a short nod, he looks away, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

"Yeah… friend." His voice is light, but something about it feels off.

You don’t notice. Or maybe, you just don’t understand.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat, turning into a street. "We should hurry before the restaurant gets packed."

You let it go, tucking the letter safely into your bag as the city lights blur past.

Dinner is simple—warm bowls of stew and easy conversation. You catch up on each other’s lives, laugh over childhood memories, and argue over who should pay the bill (which Seungcheol wins, as always). It’s comfortable, familiar—just like it’s always been.

But every now and then, Seungcheol watches you with something unreadable in his gaze. Something just beneath the surface.

Later, he pulls up in front of your place.

"Thanks for dinner, Choiseung." You grin, unbuckling your seatbelt.

"Yeah, yeah. You can pay next time."

"I’ll believe that when it happens." You laugh, stepping out of the car. "Goodnight!"

He waits until you disappear inside, only driving off once your lights flicker on.

And then he waits.

Seated in his car, he watches as your silhouette moves around the room. It’s only when your lights finally turn off that he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck before driving away into the quiet night.

The next day passes in a blur of work, coffee, and the usual routine. You go through meetings, reply to emails, and try not to fall asleep at your desk. It’s just another regular day—until night falls, and you’re back in the studio, headphones on, mic live, slipping into the comfort of your show.

"And that was 'Moonlight' to set the mood for tonight," you say, adjusting the volume on the console. "Now, let’s see what’s on your mind, listeners. Late-night confessions, random thoughts, love letters—I'm here for it all."

A familiar name pops up in the chat, and you smile.

"Ah, a message from ‘Cherry’ again," you muse, skimming through it.

"So, Cherry says: ‘I wrote them my feelings, but I feel like they didn't get the hint. Any advice?’”

You lean back, thoughtful.

"Confessions are tricky, aren’t they? But if words feel too heavy, why not try something else?"

You pause, then smile.

"Here’s an idea—make a playlist. Fill it with songs that subtly express your feelings, and share it with them. You can name it something meaningful, like ‘For You’ or ‘Songs That Remind Me of You.’ Maybe they’ll get the hint, maybe they won’t, but either way… music has a way of saying what we can’t."

A soft melody plays as you set up the next song, your voice lowering.

"Speaking of confessions… Cherry, this one’s for you."

___

After the show, you gather your things, stretching as the familiar hum of the studio fades into the quiet of the night. Stepping outside, the cool air brushes against your skin—and there he is, leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting.

"You again?" You arch a brow, teasing.

Seungcheol smirks. "What can I say? Madam needs her personal chauffeur." He pushes off the car, opening the door for you with a playful grin.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you slide in. "More like my chauffeur needs his daily dose of validation."

He chuckles, shutting the door before rounding the car. "Can you blame me? Gotta make sure my most important passenger gets home safe."

You shake your head, biting back a smile as he starts the engine. The familiar warmth of routine settles between you, comfortable and unspoken.

As you drive, soft music fills the space—a melody unfamiliar yet strangely intimate. You pause, listening. It’s not his usual sound. Gone are the heavy beats and sharp rhythms he prefers. Instead, the speakers hum with gentle tunes, lyrics drenched in longing.

You glance at him, amusement flickering in your gaze. "Since when did your taste in music change this much?"

His fingers flex over the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road. "Dunno. Just felt like switching things up."

You hum along absentmindedly, letting the melody wrap around you, comforting in ways you don’t fully understand.

Seungcheol exhales quietly, gripping the wheel a little tighter, sneaking a glance your way. Because this playlist isn’t just a mix of songs—it’s a confession. One he can only hope you’ll hear.

As Seungcheol pulls up in front of your place, he shifts the car into park but doesn’t make a move to unlock the doors just yet. Instead, he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, stealing a glance your way.

"__, since tomorrow’s the weekend... you wanna hang out?" His voice is casual, but there’s something just a little hesitant in the way he says it.

You turn to him, brows raised. "Sure. Where?"

Seungcheol clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away. "Nothing much… just the amusement park. Maybe a café after, y’know."

You blink before breaking into a small smile. "Huh, it’s been a while since we’ve gone there."

He nods, still avoiding your eyes. "Yeah. Thought it might be fun."

You tilt your head, watching him for a second before nudging his arm. "Well, if you’re paying, I’m definitely in."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes but grinning nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go overboard with the snacks."

You laugh, reaching for the door handle. "No promises. See you tomorrow, Choiseung."

As you step out, he waits, watching until your lights flicker on inside. Only then does he drive off, the soft hum of the playlist still playing in the background.

The next day, the weekend air carries a hint of excitement as you step outside, spotting Seungcheol waiting by his car. Dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, he looks effortlessly relaxed—except for the way he keeps checking his phone, as if trying to act nonchalant.

"Wow, you’re actually on time today," you tease, walking up to him.

He scoffs, sliding his phone into his pocket. "Please, I was born punctual."

You snort. "Sure, if 'punctual' means making me wait at least ten minutes every time."

Seungcheol rolls his eyes but opens the car door for you anyway, his usual playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Just get in, before I make you walk to the amusement park."

You laugh, sliding in as he rounds the car. Soon, you're both on the road, the soft hum of music playing in the background.

"So, what’s the plan, tour guide?" you ask, glancing at him.

He shrugs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Nothing fancy. Just rides, food, and you trying not to chicken out on the roller coasters."

You gasp dramatically. "Excuse you, I do not chicken out—"

"You literally backed out last time," he deadpans, making you groan in protest.

The banter continues, filling the car with laughter as the amusement park comes into view, the vibrant lights and distant screams of thrill-seekers setting the perfect scene for the day ahead.

As Seungcheol parks the car, you glance at the towering rides ahead, the excited chatter of parkgoers filling the air.

"Alright, where to first?" he asks, stretching as he steps out of the car.

You scan the park, lips pursed in thought before pointing towards the roller coasters with a challenging grin. "Since you’re so confident, let’s start with that."

His eyes widen for a split second before he huffs. "I wasn’t the one who backed out last time, remember?"

You laugh, linking your arm with his and pulling him along. "Exactly. Time to redeem myself."

The line moves faster than expected, and soon, you're seated, the bar locking in place. You grip the handles tightly, sneaking a glance at Seungcheol. He looks relaxed, but the way he exhales deeply before the ride starts doesn’t go unnoticed.

The moment the coaster shoots forward, your screams mix with laughter, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you grip the bar for dear life. When it finally slows, you glance at Seungcheol, only to see him looking at you instead of the ride’s descent.

"What?" you ask, breathless.

He shakes his head, a small, fond smile on his lips. "Nothing. Just glad you didn’t chicken out this time."

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully as you both step off the ride, your legs slightly wobbly from the rush.

The day continues with more rides, playful bets on who can win the most arcade games (he cheats, you swear), and an unnecessary but hilarious attempt at a claw machine.

"Face it, I'm just naturally gifted," he boasts, tossing you a small stuffed bear.

"Naturally full of it, maybe," you grumble, but take the bear anyway, hugging it to your chest.

Finally, as the night settles, you both find yourselves on the Ferris wheel, the gentle hum of the ride filling the comfortable silence. The city sprawls below, glowing under the streetlights, and in the distance, fireworks begin to bloom in the sky.

"Didn’t think today would be this fun," you admit, leaning back against the seat, the cool glass behind you a contrast to the warmth in your chest.

Seungcheol glances at you, something unreadable in his expression. He exhales softly, his fingers tapping against his knee.

"Yeah... I, uh—" He hesitates, licking his lips, his voice quieter now. "There's actually something I—"

But before he can finish, a particularly loud firework crackles in the sky, painting the cabin in flickering colors. You turn quickly, eyes lighting up as you take in the view.

"Oh, look at that one! It’s so pretty" you say, completely missing the way Seungcheol sighs, his half-spoken words swallowed by the moment.

He leans back, running a hand through his hair, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze lingering on you instead of the fireworks. "It is pretty."

Eventually, you both find yourselves at a cozy café just outside the park, the scent of coffee and pastries filling the air.

After placing your order, Seungcheol suddenly pushes back his chair. “Be right back,” he says, flashing a quick smile before heading toward the counter.

You don’t think much of it, scrolling through your phone until the waiter returns with your drinks. As they set your cup down, you notice the delicate heart design floating atop the foam.

You tilt your head, stirring it slightly with your spoon. “Oh? Is this some kind of Valentine’s special?” you ask, amused. “Did you get one too?”

Seungcheol, who’s just returned to his seat, glances at his own plain coffee and shrugs. “Yeah… no.”

You raise a brow. “Huh. Guess they just like me more.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink, but you don’t notice the way he hides his small, satisfied smile. Because the truth is, he had asked for that heart—just for you.

//

The next evening, the soft glow of the studio lights casts a warm hue as you settle into your seat, adjusting your headphones. Outside, the city hums with life, but a sudden downpour has turned the streets into shimmering reflections of neon signs.

"Looks like we’re in for an unexpected downpour tonight," you say, adjusting your headphones with a small chuckle. "So if you're heading home, grab an umbrella—or better yet, find someone who’ll share theirs with you—if not, maybe this is your chance for a classic movie moment. You know, the whole ‘one umbrella, two people’ thing."

With a quick tap, you queue up a slow, dreamy melody.

"Wherever you are tonight—rushing through the rain or just watching it fall—I hope this keeps you warm. Stay safe out there." As the song plays, you sit back, stretching your arms with a sigh. 

As the show wraps up, you take off your headphones, letting out a small sigh as the last song fades into silence. The studio, once filled with the hum of voices and music, now feels still. Gathering your things, you push open the door, stepping into the quiet hallway.

Outside, the rain still falls in soft sheets, blurring the glow of streetlights. You pause near the entrance, rummaging through your bag. No umbrella. Right. You meant to bring one this morning, but in the rush, it completely slipped your mind.

 You pause at the entrance, contemplating making a run for it, when a familiar voice calls out.

"Figured you’d forget yours."

You blink as Seungcheol steps forward, holding out an umbrella, his usual smirk in place. His hair is slightly damp, his coat dusted with droplets, like he had hurried here without much thought.

A small flutter, barely noticeable, stirs in your chest. You shake it off with a teasing smile. "What, no chauffeur duty today?"

He chuckles, tucking a hand into his pocket. "Uhh, not tonight. I have to stay late for that project."

You tilt your head, a little surprised. "So you came all the way here just to give me this?" You motion toward the umbrella in your hand.

"Yeah," he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Before you can say anything else, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, sighs, then looks back at you. "I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

You nod, watching as he jogs toward his car, the red taillights fading into the rain.

For a moment, you just stand there, gripping the umbrella a little tighter. You don’t know why, but the weight of it in your hands feels different.

Then, shaking off the thought, you open it and step into the rain, heading home.

//

As morning arrives, the first thing that comes to mind is Seungcheol. You blink at your phone, thumb hovering over his contact.

Texting him isn’t anything new—you’ve done it countless times before. But for some reason, tonight, it feels… different. Maybe it’s your coworker’s words still echoing in your head, or maybe it’s the way he’s been occupying your thoughts more than usual.

Before you can overthink it, you start typing.

You: Did you get home okay?

A second passes. Then another. You bite your lip, debating whether to add something else.

You: And did you even sleep well? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night working.

You press send before hesitation can creep in. Almost instantly, the dots appear.

Seungcheol: Wow, checking up on me? I must be special.

You roll your eyes, already imagining the smug grin on his face.

You: Forget I asked.

Seungcheol: Wait, wait— I did sleep. Kinda. Had a long day, but I’m home now.

You: Good. Don’t overwork yourself.

Your fingers hover over the screen for a beat before you add one last message.

This time, he takes a little longer to respond.

Seungcheol: You too.

You lock your phone, exhaling softly as you sink into your pillow.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re just overthinking. But the warmth unfurling in your chest suggests otherwise.

At work, the usual hum of chatter fills the office. You’re halfway through your emails when a coworker slides into the seat beside you, a teasing grin already in place.

"I saw you yesterday," they start, leaning in slightly. "With a guy. Was he your boyfriend?"

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard.

"What? No!" The denial is immediate, instinctive. Too quick. You clear your throat, forcing a casual shrug. "Just a friend."

Your coworker chuckles, clearly amused. "Mmm, sure. You should’ve seen your face just now."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Oh, please. It’s not like that."

They raise an eyebrow, smirking as they lean against your desk. "Right. Just a friend, huh?"

You roll your eyes, waving them off, but as they walk away, their words linger.

Just a friend. 

You’ve said it a hundred times before. So why does it feel different now?

The soft glow of the studio lights wraps around you like a familiar embrace as you settle in for another night on air. The playlist hums in the background, filling the quiet spaces between your thoughts as you scroll through messages from listeners.

One catches your eye.

“I think I’ve fallen for my best friend. It wasn’t sudden—more like a slow, creeping realization. One day, I caught myself smiling at my phone just because they texted me. I don’t know if they feel the same, and I’m scared to lose what we have. What do I do?"

You hesitate for a moment, the words settling heavier than they should. There’s a flicker of something familiar in them, something that makes you sit up a little straighter.

You take a breath and lean toward the mic. “That’s… complicated,” you begin, your voice even, steady. “Falling for a best friend is tricky. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. One day, they’re just… them. The same person they’ve always been. And then suddenly, everything feels different.”

Your breath catches slightly. A part of you wants to laugh at the timing, but instead, you clear your throat and lean into the mic.

You exhale softly, fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your notes. "I think the scariest part isn’t even confessing—it’s the thought of what happens after. What if they don’t feel the same? What if things change? But… at the same time, isn’t it worth knowing? Isn’t it better than wondering ‘what if’ forever?"

The words come naturally, maybe a little too naturally, and you catch yourself mid-sentence, blinking at the realization. Your fingers tighten slightly around the papers in front of you.

You shake it off with a light laugh. "Anyway, I’m not a love expert. But if you’re listening… maybe ask yourself this—would you rather take the risk or live with the regret?"

As the segment transitions, you queue up the next song, the soft melody of Can't Help Falling in Love by Kina Grannis filling the airwaves. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling.

//

The idea of a team dinner had been floating around the office for weeks, but it wasn’t until today that your producer finally put his foot down.

“We’re going,” he declared, arms crossed as he leaned against your desk. “No more excuses, no more ‘let’s do it next week.’ Tonight, we eat.”

Your coworker snickered, spinning lazily in their chair. “You just don’t want to go home and cook.”

“Exactly,” he admitted shamelessly. “Besides, it’s been a while since we all hung out outside of work. You in?”

You hesitated for a beat, glancing at your screen before sighing. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do. “Yeah, I’m in.”

And that was that. A few hours later, you found yourself walking toward the restaurant with the rest of your team, the air buzzing with conversation. Your producer was still arguing about food, insisting that this place was “decent at best” while another team member defended it with an almost personal level of passion.

You laughed at their banter, falling into step behind them—until something made you slow down.

A familiar figure stood just outside the restaurant, hands tucked into his coat pockets. Even before he turned, you knew who it was.

Seungcheol.

Your brows lifted slightly in amusement. “Are you a stalker?” you teased as you approached. “You’re literally everywhere I go.”

He turned toward you, chuckling under his breath. “No, I’m here with someone. My cli—”

“Shall we go?”

The voice belonged to a woman who stepped up beside him, her posture poised, her tone polite. She looked… elegant. The kind of effortless elegance that didn’t even need to try.

Your gaze flickered between them, something unreadable tightening in your chest before you smoothed your expression. “Who…”

The woman met your eyes and smiled. “Oh, I’m Lee Hana. I’m working with Seungcheol on a project.”

You nodded, lips curving into something light, something easy, even as something else tugged inside you. “Right. Nice to meet you.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingered on you for a second longer than it should. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” you blinked, shifting slightly. “Our team is having dinner.” You motioned toward the restaurant behind you. “You know, bonding and all that.”

He nodded, but before he could say anything else, Hana touched his arm lightly. “Shall we?”

There was a pause—brief, barely there—before he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.” Then he glanced at you again. “Bye, then. Have fun.”

And then he was gone, walking away with her at his side.

You watched them leave, something unspoken pressing against your ribs. It’s not jealousy, you told yourself. Not really. But the feeling stayed anyway.

A voice broke through your thoughts. “Oh, isn’t he the umbrella guy?”

You turned to see your coworker standing beside you, glancing after Seungcheol with mild curiosity before their gaze shifted back to you. “Did he come here with a woman?”

You said nothing, but that seemed to be enough of an answer.

They hummed knowingly. “You really must be just friends.” And with that, they walked inside.

You stayed there a second longer, staring at the spot where Seungcheol had just been, before shaking yourself out of it and following them in.

The night air is crisp as you walk back home, the sounds of the city buzzing softly in the background. Your team dinner had ended a while ago, but instead of feeling full and satisfied, there’s a strange heaviness in your chest—a weight you don’t quite understand.  

As you turn the corner to your apartment complex, you slow down, your steps faltering.  

There, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, is Seungcheol.  

Your brows knit together. “What are you doing here?”  

At your voice, he straightens, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You didn’t look well back at the restaurant,” he says, his tone light but laced with something else—concern, maybe. “So, I thought I’d check on you.”  

You blink at him. “You drove all the way here for that?”  

He shrugs. “It’s not far.”  

Liar. His office is nowhere near your place.  

There’s a brief pause. The usual banter is on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, the words don’t come out as easily tonight. Maybe it’s because he actually showed up. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what to do with the way your heart stutters at the sight of him standing there, waiting for you.  

You shift your weight. “Do you… want to come in for coffee?”  

At that, he chuckles, shaking his head. “Coffee? At this time?” He tilts his head at you, amused. “You must really hate me if you don’t want me to sleep tonight.”  

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Then I’ll give you plain water. Just come in.”  

His lips twitch into a smirk before he pushes himself off the car. “If you insist.”  

And just like that, he follows you inside.  

The door clicks shut behind you as you step inside, flipping on the lights. The familiar warmth of your home settles around you, but with Seungcheol standing in your living room, it suddenly feels… different.

“You can sit,” you say, gesturing vaguely to the couch as you move toward the kitchen.

He hums in response, wandering over but not immediately sitting down. Instead, he looks around, eyes flickering to the small details of your space—the stack of books on the coffee table, the blanket draped lazily over the couch, the half-full cup on the counter from this morning.

“By the way,” you start, keeping your voice casual as you pour warm milk, “who was that woman earlier?”

Seungcheol hums in acknowledgment, but when he answers, it’s after a slight pause. “Just a client. I’m handling a project for her company.”

“Ah.” You nod, stirring the coffee a little too forcefully. “Looked like you guys were close.”

He lets out a small laugh. “Are you interrogating me right now?”

You scoff, bringing the mugs over to the table and handing him one. “No. Just making conversation.”

You drop onto the couch beside him, curling your legs under you. He’s been here so many times before, and yet tonight, the usual comfort feels a little different—like you’re hyper-aware of the way he leans back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the way he watches you over the rim of his mug.

“You seemed off earlier,” he says after a beat. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you lie, but even you don’t sound convinced.

Seungcheol doesn’t press, just tilts his head slightly, studying you like he’s figuring out a puzzle. “If you say so.”

After a while, he stretches, glancing at the time. “I should go.”

You nod, following him to the door. He lingers for a second, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Text me when you wake up, yeah?”

You frown. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Just ‘cause.”

You roll your eyes, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes your chest tighten. “Fine.”

He smirks. “Good.”

And then, with a small wave, he’s gone.

You stand there for a second, staring at the closed door, fingers curling tightly around your cup.

The theater is dim, the soft glow from the screen casting flickering lights across Seungcheol’s face. The film has barely begun, but the hum of quiet conversations and the rustling of popcorn bags fill the space around you.

You’re not sure who suggested this movie. Maybe he did. Maybe you did. Maybe it was just one of those things—where he casually texted, "Movie?" and you didn’t even think before replying, "Sure."

The movie plays, but your focus wavers. You’re aware of him. Of the way his shoulder is just barely brushing yours. The way his fingers drum lazily against his knee. The way he shifts slightly every now and then, getting comfortable.

And then, his hand moves to the popcorn bag between you.

Your fingers accidentally graze his. Just for a second.

You don’t think much of it—until it happens again.

The second time, neither of you pull away immediately. It’s not intentional, not deliberate. Just… a pause. A moment that lingers for a beat too long before he finally retracts his hand.

Your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression neutral.

A few more scenes pass. You’re getting lost in the film when suddenly—

A jump scare.

It’s sudden enough that your breath catches, and before you can stop yourself, your hand darts out, grasping the closest thing—his arm.

Seungcheol doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t say a word. Just glances down at your fingers curled around his sleeve.

You realize what you’ve done a second too late. Heat creeps up your neck as you start to pull away.

But then—

His arm shifts just slightly, just enough that your hand slides from his sleeve to his wrist, fingertips brushing against his skin.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

The moment stretches, unspoken, unacknowledged. Not quite intentional. But not exactly not intentional, either.

And suddenly, the movie is the least interesting thing in the room.

The movie ends, and the crowd slowly shuffles toward the exits. You stretch your arms as you step out of the dimly lit theater, the cool night air greeting you.

"That wasn’t as scary as I thought," you say, glancing at Seungcheol.

He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sure. That explains why you nearly ripped my sleeve off."

You roll your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "That was one time."

He smirks. "Uh-huh. And what about the other time? And the time after that?"

You narrow your eyes at him, but there’s no real bite behind it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"Okay, whatever. Where are we eating?" You change the subject swiftly, and Seungcheol hums, pretending to think.

"Ramen?" he suggests.

Your stomach growls at the mention of food, and you nod. "Sounds good."

It’s a short walk to the small ramen shop tucked away on a quieter street. The place is cozy, warm, and familiar—one of those late-night spots you’ve both ended up in more times than you can count. The moment you step inside, the comforting aroma of broth and spices fills the air.

Seungcheol orders for both of you, as he always does, rattling off your usual without even asking. The cashier doesn’t even blink, already used to it by now.

You shake your head with a small smile. "One day, I’m going to switch things up just to mess with you."

He leans against the counter, grinning. "No, you won’t."

He’s right, and you hate that he knows it.

The two of you settle into a booth, the conversation flowing easily between bites of food. Seungcheol steals a piece of your fish cake without asking. You retaliate by swiping a sip of his drink. It's effortless, familiar.

By the time you step back outside, the streets are quieter. The late hour drapes the city in a peaceful hush, the occasional headlights casting long shadows on the pavement.

Neither of you say much as you walk, but it isn’t an awkward silence. Just the kind that lingers when words aren’t needed.

At some point, Seungcheol slows his pace, falling into step beside you instead of slightly ahead.

The street lights flicker above, the air crisp but not too cold. You rub your hands together out of habit.

A beat passes before Seungcheol exhales through his nose and, without a word, reaches out.

His hand brushes yours, just barely.

You think it might be an accident until he does it again.

This time, he doesn’t move away.

And neither do you.

The apartment is quiet when you step inside, the familiar space wrapping around you like a well-worn blanket. You toe off your shoes, set your bag down, and exhale, as if the night still clings to your skin. The soft hum of the refrigerator is the only sound filling the air, but your mind is anything but quiet.

You wander into the kitchen on autopilot, reaching for a glass, but your fingers hesitate over the cabinet handle. The thought slips in, uninvited.

What if he already knows?

The question lingers, settling into the corners of your mind like an echo. You shake your head as if that alone could shove it away, but it doesn’t work.

Maybe it’s the way he laughed tonight—soft, genuine, like the sound itself belonged to you. Or the way he leaned in closer, just enough that his warmth almost touched you. Maybe it’s nothing at all, just the way he exists around you—familiar, steady, yet suddenly… different.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to chase the feeling away, but it’s stubborn. Because now that you’ve noticed it, you can’t unsee it. Every teasing remark, every lingering glance, every small, meaningless moment—it’s all been leading to this.

And the worst part?

You don’t even know when it started.

You sink onto the couch, pressing the cool glass against your palm, grounding yourself. You try to convince yourself it’s nothing. You’ve always been close. He’s always been there.

But tonight, when his hand brushed yours and he didn’t pull away… when he said goodnight like he meant something else…

Your heart had stuttered.

You bite your lip, staring at the ceiling, willing your heartbeat to settle.

...What if he already knows?

//

The studio is quiet except for the soft hum of the equipment. The city lights flicker through the window, casting faint shadows against the booth. You scroll through the messages, eyes landing on a familiar name.

Cherry.

“I tried everything you said—gave them a letter, took them out, spent so much time together. And honestly? I swear they like me too. But… nothing. What do I do?"

You let out a breath, tapping your fingers lightly against the desk.

"Okay, first of all—don’t give up. I know it’s frustrating when someone doesn’t read between the lines, but sometimes, people need things to be said plainly. No metaphors, no subtlety. Just… real words."

You lean back slightly, eyes flickering toward the dim window of the booth, where the city blurs in the distance.

"Because here’s the thing—what if they do feel the same way? What if they’re just as scared as you are? Wouldn’t you rather know than spend your days wondering?"

The words come easily, almost too easily, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re really just talking to Cherry anymore.

You exhale and push forward.

"So here’s my advice, Cherry. Tell them. No hints, no half-confessions. Just look them in the eyes and say, ‘I like you.’ And if they don’t feel the same? At least you’ll know. At least you won’t have to live with ‘what if.’"

Your hand hovers over the controls for a moment longer than necessary before finally pressing the next song cue.

The melody flows through the studio, soft and steady. And yet, your heart is thudding slightly faster than it should.

The night air is cool against your skin as you step out of the building, the faint hum of the city filling the quiet. Work is done for the day, your coworkers already heading their separate ways after a few lingering goodbyes.

You stretch your arms slightly, exhaling as you adjust the strap of your bag—only to freeze mid-motion.

He’s there.

Standing just outside the entrance, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket—except for one, which lingers behind his back, hiding something.

Your heart stirs, something instinctive. “Seungcheol?”

His lips twitch in a small, almost nervous smile. “Hey.”

“You’re waiting for me?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, stepping toward him.

“Yeah.” A soft exhale. “I had to.”

You tilt your head slightly. “Why?”

Seungcheol hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Then, with a slow exhale, he pulls his hand from behind his back—revealing a bouquet of flowers, delicate and vibrant under the streetlights.

Your breath catches.

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

“Seungcheol…” Your voice is softer now, unsure. The gesture feels too deliberate, too thoughtful. It makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

He watches you for a second before exhaling, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve said this sooner. A long time ago, actually.” His voice drops slightly. “I think—no, I know—I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Your breath catches.

He holds it out to you, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. “I know it’s kind of cheesy, but... I saw this and thought of you.”

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

“Seungcheol…” Your voice is softer now, unsure. The gesture feels too deliberate, too thoughtful. It makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

He watches you for a second before exhaling, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve said this sooner. A long time ago, actually.” His voice drops slightly. “I think—no, I know—I’ve liked you for a while now.”

The world feels like it slows down.

His eyes flicker with something—uncertainty, vulnerability, an honesty so raw it makes your chest tighten.

“I tried not to,” he continues, voice steadier now. “I thought maybe it would pass, that maybe we were just friends and I was misreading things. But then you started showing up in my thoughts at the most random times. I’d hear a song and think of you. I’d pass a café and wonder if you’d like their coffee. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it… it was always you.”

Your fingers tighten around the flower.

“So I’m done pretending.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

You swallow, fingers tightening around the flower as your heart stumbles over itself. The weight of his words settles over you—not heavy, not suffocating, but something warm, something undeniable.

For a long moment, you don’t speak. You don’t know if you can.

Seungcheol watches you carefully, his usual confidence laced with something softer, something uncertain. You can tell he’s waiting, bracing himself for whatever comes next.

So you inhale slowly, steadying yourself.

“You—” Your voice falters slightly before you clear your throat. “You’ve liked me for a long time?”

He nods, lips curving into a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah.” A beat. “I thought you knew.”

Your breath catches.

Did you?

You think back—to the lingering glances, the easy laughter, the way he’s always been there, steady and constant. The way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. The way your heart has been shifting, your feelings unraveling into something you weren’t ready to name.

“I…” You pause, lips parting, your heart beating so fast it’s dizzying. And then you laugh, a little breathless, shaking your head. “God, I feel so stupid.”

Seungcheol blinks, caught off guard. “Huh?”

You meet his eyes, and this time, there’s no doubt, no hesitation.

“I like you too, you idiot.”

For a second, everything is still.

Then Seungcheol lets out a sharp breath—a laugh, almost disbelieving—and suddenly, that teasing smile you know so well is back, but there’s something else in his expression now. Something real. Something unshakable.

“Yeah?” His voice is quieter, laced with something warm.

You nod, lips pressing together. “Yeah.”

And then, he pulls you in—his hand resting at the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair.

His lips press against yours, gentle at first, then firmer, like he’s been holding this in for too long. His other hand stays over yours, the bouquet still between you, petals brushing against your skin.

The city buzzes in the background, but all you can hear is the quiet rush of your own heartbeat. And in that moment, with his warmth, his touch, his everything—

It just feels right.

You pull away just enough to look at him, breathless, your forehead still resting against his. His hands remain on your waist, warm and grounding, as if neither of you wants to let go just yet.

And honestly? You don’t think you ever want to.

A soft laugh escapes you, light and airy. “You know… a listener of mine also loves their best friend,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly. “They tried everything—subtle hints, letters, taking them out—but their best friend was too dense to get it.”

Seungcheol chuckles, his thumb brushing over your wrist. “Sounds familiar.”

“Right?” You sigh dramatically. “So, I told them to just confess. No hints, no half-confessions, just… real words.”

He hums, nodding thoughtfully. “Good advice.”

“Yeah,” you grin, looking up at him. “I wonder how it went for them.”

Seungcheol pauses for a second, then leans in just a little, his voice playful yet quiet. “I’d say pretty well.”

You blink. “Huh?”

His lips quirk up, and suddenly, the way he’s looking at you feels a little too knowing.

And then, before you can process it, he says it—just two words, but they hit you like a ton of bricks.

“I know.”

You stare. “What?”

He grins, tapping a finger against your forehead lightly. “Your listener. Cherry.”

Your brows furrow. The pieces are there, but your brain refuses to connect them. “What about them?”

He hesitates, as if savoring the moment, before finally confessing, “It’s me.”

Silence.

You tilt your head, processing his words. “...You’re Cherry?”

Seungcheol nods, clearly holding back a laugh at your expression.

For a second, you just stand there, staring at him.

Then, with a dramatic gasp, you lightly smack him with the bouquet in your hands.

“Ow—hey!” He feigns pain, stumbling back slightly, but the wide grin on his face betrays him.

“You idiot!” You hit him again, though there’s no real force behind it. “You made me give love advice for your own confession?”

He catches your wrist, still laughing. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can retaliate, he tugs you forward, pulling you into another hug.

This time, it feels different.

Familiar, warm, but with something new. Something neither of you have to question anymore.

You sigh against his shoulder, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you.”

He grins. “Believe it, Baby.”

[girlbeatings]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby who you hooked up with during your experimental phase in college, giving you for sure the best orgasm of your comphet life, and yet you still fall for a douchbag guy that doesn't treat you as well as you thought he would. poor thing.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby that helps you get ready for your wedding with said douchbag, forcing a smile and making sure you looked the part of a future lobotomised, white picket fence house wife. she felt bad for you, you had no idea what you were signing up for by accepting this ring as a sign of your 'love' and 'fidelity'. you'd probably realize way too late in life, maybe late 30s, that this is not what you wanted.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby that feels just so sorry for you, that she holds you close and tells you how pretty you look today, the happiest day of your life. "always knew you'd make such a pretty little bride.. i mean, look at you..." her voice trails off as she tilts your chin up to guide your attention to the full length mirror. you did look pretty, the fancy white dress, perfect makeup and hair. perfect.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby who stares at you through the reflection and gets an idea. a trip down memory lane, before you walk down the aisle.

"this fucking dress... makes you look so cute," she mumbles, her voice slightly forced as she stares at the lewd scene in the mirror. you pant and tremble, white heels dangling off your toes and the dress bunched up at your hips.

abby groans as she watches your cunt leak around two of her thick fingers, sat between her spread thighs and your back against her chest as you struggle to keep yourself together. "does he fuck you this good, baby? bet his dick isn't as big as mine, huh."

it wasn't, you know that much. abby's fingers with girthy, just two of them made you writhe and squelch, and that fucking strap she whipped out a few years ago had your sexual fantazies in a chokehold. the way you were so soaked that it just slipped in and out of your pussy without any struggle at all, the faux veins rippling against your insides and hitting all the right spots until you couldn't take it— and what did abby do then? she held you down and made you cum over and over.

your fiancé couldn't compare even if he tried, which he didn't. you were lucky if he even looked at your clit, never mind the sort of tricks abby was doing on it now.

"my pretty little girl, all dressed in white..." she murmurs, her fingers tapping firmly on your clit before rubbing in circles, watching your face scrunch up and your hips roll against her hand. "he's such a lucky man."

there's jealousy clear in her tone, because god she wants you. not just your body, she wants your fucking soul. your dna intertwined with her own. but she can't have that, because you don't like girls.

though, your face says different when her fingers stuff you full again. your head's empty at this point, so there's no lame excuse as to why you were happily letting your best friend fuck you minutes before your wedding, your soon to be husband already stood at the altar.

her fingers curl up to find that spot, smiling when your body almost lurches forward off the bed at the singeing pleasure that spikes through you. luckily, abby's arm is locked around your waist, and you stay pressed against her as she finger fucks you just how you remember— maybe even better. she clearly had more experience now. are you jealous?

"gonna fuck every vow out of that empty head." she promises, her thumb starting to abuse your clit in time with her plunging fingers, tears starting to bubble in your eyes as you writhe.

"a-abs, i'm— mmph, abby.."

"i know, wifey... pretty pussy's missed me so much, hasn't she?" she whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck as her hand continues to work perfectly between your spread legs. you know you'd think about this on your honeymoon, you'd think about her when your laid next to your husband, unhappy and yearning for her to come save you. and who knows? maybe after a few glasses of wine with your old college friend, she fucks you until you ruin that marital mattress for good.

happy valentine's day !!

⏦ﾟ♡︎ taglist !

@uhh-lana @pearlcigs @abbyspup @sunrxxyz @graciedollie @starrrcane @lilyyx0 @444fernz @tqlepatia @nvr4getme @2012wannabe @jaywritessometimes @jinxedbambi @tohoko @sapphicloverwlw @shadowmythe @fict1onallyobsessed @pornoangelz @milanyas @powderpinkandsweeet @femmecannibal @aeroti @eatencupcak3 @lils-1979 @sobersonder @dozybunny @fawncritter @nahcala @lesbones @sapphicantichrist @ethereaally @ruelezz @90yearoldbear

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: a letter from your future spouse

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: a love life check-up

return to the masterlist of pap/pac posts

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pile 1

i wonder what you’re doing right now. are you chasing a dream you’ve started to question? laughing with friends who see only parts of the real you? or are you like me - reflecting on the strange twists life keeps throwing your way, trying to make sense of how it all fits together?

i don’t have all the answers, but i know this: our story is unfolding exactly as it should. the setbacks, the detours, the heartbreak - it’s all shaping us, preparing us for the moment our lives finally align. even in the moments when you doubt that there is light ahead, know that i see it clearly. you’re the hope i keep reaching for, even in the dark.

i often imagine meeting you for the first time. maybe it’s ordinary - a passing glance, a casual conversation. but there will be something unshakable about it. something in the way your smile catches me off guard or the way your voice pulls me in. i’ll know it’s you. and even if i don’t say it right away, you’ll feel it too.

right now, i’m still figuring things out. life’s been throwing me in every direction, and i’m just holding on, trying to steer clear of what i can. the funny thing about fate is how it works even when you don’t see it coming. every choice i’ve made, every chance i’ve taken, has brought me closer to you.

when the time is right, i’ll be ready to step up for you, for us. i’m not the person i was yesterday, and i’m still becoming the person i want to be. there is one thing i know for sure: when we meet, i’ll choose you - again and again, every day, through every celebration and every challenge.

yes - there will be celebrations. i want to laugh with you until we can’t breathe, to celebrate to our wins, big and small, and to hold you close when the night winds down. i want to share your joy, your dreams, and every quiet moment in between. you’re the person i want standing next to me through it all.

until then, i’ll keep working on myself, learning from the lessons life throws my way, and holding space for you in my heart. when fate turns in our favor and our paths finally cross, i’ll be ready to give you my love, my devotion, and my whole damn soul.

yours,

future spouse

pile 2

i’ve been lost before. trapped in my own cycles, chasing goals that felt hollow or moving too fast to notice what i was really missing. there were times i poured my energy into the wrong things, thinking that success or control could fill the void. but life has a way of humbling you, of forcing you to stop, slow down, and face the truth: none of it matters without you.

you’re the one who will make me want to be better - not out of obligation, but because i’ll see in you everything i’ve been searching for. you’re my anchor and the softness in need in my life, the one who shows me that love isn’t about perfection or performance, but about presence. when i look at you, i’ll see everything i didn’t know i needed - warmth, patience, and a kind of beauty that radiates from the inside out.

i know i’ve taken the long road to get to you. sometimes i’ve been stuck, unsure of what to do next, afraid to leave what felt comfortable, even when i knew it wasn’t enough. but you’ll be the one who changes that. with you, there will be no fear, no hesitation - only a deep, undeniable pull that i can’t resist.

you have this power, don’t you? to nurture and create, to transform whatever you touch into something extraordinary. you’re a queen in every sense of the word - abundant, radiant, and endlessly giving. i want you to know this: you don’t always have to give. you don’t always have to hold everything together. with me, you can let go. you'll be able to lean on me. i’ll be the one to carry the weight when you’re tired, to remind you how much you’re worth, even when the world forgets.

i know i’ll mess up sometimes. i’ll stumble, i’ll falter, and i’ll get caught in my own head. but i promise i’ll never stop trying. i’ll never stop choosing you. even in the moments when it feels like we’re standing still, i’ll be there, holding your hand, reminding you that we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.

there’s no moving on from you. no walking away, no running from the love i know we’ll have. you’re the one i’ll keep coming back to, again and again, because you’re home. and when we’re together, i’ll spend the rest of my days showing you just how much you mean to me.

my heart is your's,

future spouse

pile 3

if you’ve felt a restless pull in your heart, know that i feel it too. i’m not the kind of man who sits still for long - i’ve always chased what makes me feel alive, even when i didn’t fully understand what i was after. somewhere along the way, i realized what i’ve been searching for is you.

you’re the spark in the distance, the promise of something more. i can feel your energy even now, calling me to move, to grow, to become the man you deserve. i’m not perfect—sometimes i charge ahead too fast, speak before i think, or get caught up in chasing every wild idea that crosses my mind. but one thing i know for sure: when i meet you, everything will fall into focus.

you’re the kind of person who could make a man rethink everything. your passion, your curiosity, your fire - i want to match it and watch us both burn brighter together. with you, every day will feel like an adventure, every moment full of discovery. i want to know your mind, your dreams, and your wildest ideas. i want to be the one who makes you laugh so hard you forget to breathe and who listens when you need to share the thoughts you’ve never spoken aloud.

but i also want you to know this: i’ll be the one who gives you space when you need it. life isn’t always about the chase; sometimes, it’s about the stillness. when the world gets too loud, when the fire feels like it’s burning too hot, i’ll be there to remind you to rest. i’ll be your calm in the chaos, your quiet in the storm.

i know we’ll make mistakes - together and apart. we’ll say the wrong things, take the wrong steps, and sometimes, we’ll need time to figure it all out. but isn’t that part of the beauty? love isn’t about perfection; it’s about showing up, learning, and growing side by side.

i can’t wait to see where life takes us, to chase the wild unknown with you by my side. you make me want to dream bigger, run faster, and still, somehow, savor every single moment. i’m ready to throw myself into this with you, no hesitation, no regrets.

until we meet, i’ll keep searching, learning, and preparing for the day when i get to call you mine.

yours always,

your future spouse

[v6quewrlds]

can we get a blurb of dr reader threading and plucking joes eyebrows

During her residency, she quickly learned one of the unspoken expectations her patients had of her: to be a walking billboard for the very treatments she prescribed. Her skin, therefore, was a canvas of near perfection—flawless and radiant, somehow perceived as a testament to her professional acumen. She took great care to maintain it, using a strict regimen that she had honed over the years. Joe was frequently the beneficiary of her skincare knowledge, though his participation was more sporadic and often accompanied by an endless stream of questions and wry quips.

Tonight, Joe's curiosity was piqued by the array of products spread out before him. He picked up a bottle of serum with an unpronounceable name and squinted at the label. "What's this one do?"

She chuckled, taking the bottle from his hand and placing it back on the nightstand. "That's for later, baby. Just relax," she urged, nudging his upper body to lay against the bed sheets, his head finding a comfortable spot on her thigh.

"What do you wanna watch?" She asked Joe as she settled into the bed, her hand brushing his damp curls back from his forehead. He considered for a moment, then suggested a favorite: "The Office." She nodded and clicked through the streaming service to find the show. It was a familiar comfort, the background noise that filled their evenings when neither felt like talking.

She cleaned her hands with an alcohol wipe, a habit ingrained from her medical training, before she sprayed the tweezers with disinfectant. She leaned over Joe, the TV's glow reflecting in his blue eyes as he attempted to focus on the shenanigans of the employees of Dunder Mifflin. His skin was flushed from the warm bathwater, and she could feel his body tense slightly as she approached his face with the tweezers.

"This won't take long," she assured him, her voice soothing despite her own suppressed amusement at his squeamishness. "Just close your eyes, stay still, and think happy thoughts."

Joe obeyed, his eyes shut tight as she began to carefully pluck his eyebrows into the desired shape. He winced and flinched with every tug, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his skin turning pinker by the minute.

"Stop wincing like that," she scolded playfully, trying to keep a straight face as she moved to steady his head by cupping his chin. "I'm gonna fuck it up."

Joe let out a tense whimper as he tried to relax. "Why did I let you talk me into this?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Because you love me," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Think of this as a girlfriend tax."

"Girlfriend tax?" Joe grunted, his eyes tightly shut. "More like girlfriend torture."

Her laughter filled the room as she continued her work, each pluck bringing him closer to being done. "You're so brave, my delicate flower," she cooed, her gentle sarcasm bringing a smile to his face despite his discomfort.

When she was finally satisfied with the arches of Joe's eyebrows, she held up the mirror so he could see. He squinted one eye open before peering at his reflection. "Okay," he conceded, "not too shabby."

She hummed knowingly, reaching for a bottle of aloe vera gel. The gel squeezed out onto her fingertips, a soft smile gracing her features as she watched Joe scrutinize her work in the handheld mirror. She smoothed the gel over his reddened skin, her touch light and soothing, the coolness of the aloe providing relief from the sting of the plucking.

"Better?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she finished applying the gel. Joe nodded, his expression relaxing as the soothing coolness began to spread.

"Almost," he murmured, his eyes still glued to the mirror. "Kiss?"

She leaned down, her lips grazing Joe's, a soft apology for the pain she had inflicted. He kissed her back, his hand reaching up to gently stroke her cheek. As she sat up, Joe's gaze remained on her, a hint of excitement flickering in his eyes.

[all4aoki]

᱖ NOW PLAYING . . . Love Hangover Jennie

 ۫  ੭̲ SOMMARiE Valentine’s week is always a marathon for you, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

ׁ 𝑝oly!ot7 𝐸N- x f!reader ׅ ౨ৎ 𝓦c 6.1k ! & 𝓒w kissing, suggestive in Sunghoon’s & Heeseung’s part, YN accidentally burns herself, overall sleepiness, me guessing stuff about being an idol, not proofread ! ࿁ ⠀ ˚ BiBLiOTHÈQUE

📄 happy valentine’s day my loves! ♡︎♡︎

©all4aoki, 2025

You’d always loved Valentine’s Day. It never mattered if you hadn’t had a valentine, or had no plans surrounding the holiday, because the concept of the celebration of love was precious to you. Everything about the holiday was perfect in your opinion: the colors, the decorations, the food—all of it. And as the years went on and you finally had the privilege of celebrating with not just one, but seven of your soulmates, Valentine’s Day got even better. However, Valentine’s week was a bit of a marathon for you.

Jungwon had never understood why you never let any of them past the threshold of your room while you were getting ready, but as he stood in the door frame now, he knew. Because watching you get yourself dolled up to go on a date with him had him wanting to burst into your room and ruin the lip gloss you were smearing over your full lips. The warm lights of your vanity reflected onto your skin beautifully, and the flattering neckline of your white dress made your neck look extremely kissable–

“Don’t even think about it.” Your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts instantly. Your shining eyes meet his as you begin putting in your earrings, and Jungwon feels his heart melt a little.

He grins, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The way you tilt your head and how your neck flushes a deeper shade than your usual skin tone reminds Jungwon of why he loves teasing you so much. Seeing you flustered was so utterly adorable. But the small sigh that escapes you as you look back at your appearance in the mirror has him furrowing his eyebrows. Jungwon pushes off the door frame, crossing his arms as he enters your bedroom. This time, you don’t make any protests, which only makes his concern grow.

Jungwon leans down, carefully wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. He’s careful to not mess up your hair that you’d spent so long curling. “What’s wrong?” The smell of your perfume, the same vanilla one you’d been using for years now, is comforting, and Jungwon has to stop himself from pressing his nose against your skin. Instead, he keeps eye contact with you in the mirror.

Your hands come up to hold onto his forearms, the texture of the beige sweater he’s wearing soft under your fingers. “Nothing,” you reassure as you shake your head a little, “I just spaced out for a second.” Jungwon doesn’t seem to buy it though, the slight scrunching of his nose cluing you in.

“I know this week is gonna be busy for you… since you’re spending time with all of us. Individually–”

“It’s fine, Won, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you say as one of your hands moves to cup his cheek. “It might be tiring, but I want to give each of you the love you deserve.” That seems to do it, though, and you can see the way he visibly relaxes at your words.

“You’ll tell us if you need a break?”

You nod, but a part of you knows that even if you do get tired, the excitement and love would overpower that. This week and Valentine’s Day was about love, and you wanted to give all of your love and energy to your favorite people in the world.

“Good.” Jungwon smiles as he slowly stands up straight again. He offers you his hand, and you quickly turn off the lights on your vanity before you take it. His much larger palm closes around yours and a small rush of electricity goes through you from the contact. “Let’s get going then. Don’t want to be late for our reservation.”

Straightening out your skirt, you get to your feet. “All ready. M’excited,” you say with a grin. But when you raise yourself on your toes a little to kiss his cheek, your lips meet the back of his other hand.

“Can’t mess up your lip gloss, doll.”

The date with Jungwon is nothing but perfect and both of you return to the dorms with adorable pieces of pottery. Well, Jungwon’s is a little questionable, but he’d themed it around you and he was the one who made it, so it was flawless in your eyes. And you wondered, why had you been so worried about this week being draining? After spending the night with Jungwon, you’d felt refreshed and your heart was full of happiness. Just as the holiday intended it to be.

So, you were carrying an air of confidence with you as you sat across from Sunghoon at a restaurant the both of you frequented. It was on the fancier side, but when you both were in the mood for something a little more romantic, this place was always your first choice. The dim lighting and warm glow of candles on tables reminded you of how romantic your boyfriend could be. It was a side Sunghoon didn’t show often, but it was always there.

“Did you like the flowers?” he asks as you sip at the red Chateau Margaux wine you’d decided to indulge in that evening. Neither of you were big drinkers, but it felt fitting with the intimate atmosphere. Sunghoon was referencing the large bouquet of pink roses currently sitting in the car that was parked in the parking lot. At the thought of them, you feel your cheeks warm and your heart stutters with giddiness.

You nod, “Roses are the most Valentine’s flower you could get.” He lets out a small scoff that’s definitely a laugh in disguise. As he smiles, you can see his little fangs and the urge to kiss him comes over you.

“I know they’re not your favorite, but I thought they were fitting.”

“I love them,” you reassure as you twirl your fork around in the pasta you’d ordered. Sunghoon had gotten some kind of steak and you could smell it from across the table. His chocolate-colored eyes notice the way your own eyes linger on his dinner and he laughs softly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you watch him cut off a small piece of his steak before offering the fork to you. When you don’t move, he tilts his head in a gesture for you to take it. “Have a bite. I can practically see you drooling.”

“I am not drooling,” you protest, but you take the fork anyway. The steak is as divine as it smells. Much better than your pasta.

“Maybe not over the food…” With the way he trails off, you can tell what he’s implying and you resist the urge to throw the silverware you’re holding at him. Sunghoon grins cheekily at the angry expression on your face and how you can’t respond as you finish eating your bite. “You want to switch dishes, don’t you?”

You tried to school your facial expressions, but in truth, you did kind of want to. “That’s your food, Hoon, I’m not gonna take it from you–” Before you can finish your sentence, his pale, large hands are already swapping your plates. You swallow harshly, stomach doing flips at how caring he is. “You don’t mind?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, “Tonight is all about you.”

And he made that clear in more ways than one.

A sharp breath leaves you as your back meets the wall beside the door to Sangmi and your dorm. She was out with Intak. They probably hadn’t begun their own Valentine’s celebrations yet, but if you could remember correctly, he was asking her to be his Valentine tonight. But you couldn’t exactly think clearly thanks to Sunghoon’s lips on your neck.

The light drag of his teeth against the delicate skin sends a shiver through your body, and your hands grip his biceps over the blazer he’s wearing tightly. When he lightly bites down on a sensitive spot he’s well acquainted with, you yelp quietly, pressing your body to his. Sunghoon’s nose nudges under your jaw as he pulls away. No doubt his eyes are lingering on the red mark sitting on your neck now. Once he deems it good enough, his lips are on yours.

His movements are passionate and desperate, clearly not patient enough to wait to get you to your bedroom. Instead, his tongue slides past your lips. He deepens the kiss, one of his hands on your face tilting your head back to give him better access. His other hand grips the skirt of your dress, beginning to pull it up your thighs.

“Bedroom,” Sunghoon mumbles against your lips as he hikes your dress over your hips. Thankfully, you make it to your bed before your panties hit the floor.

The next morning, it’s hard for you to get out of bed. At first, you wake up slowly, the mid-morning sunlight filtering in through the curtains and caressing where your and Sunghoon’s bodies are tangled together in bed. You’d only gotten a few hours of sleep that night for… certain reasons, but when your eyes finally fluttered open, you didn’t expect it to be past noon.

“Shoot,” you mumble, fully sitting up in your bed as you notice all of the text messages from Riki. You were supposed to meet up with him an hour ago for his Valentine’s date. Sunghoon shifts next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he buries his face in your lap. Halfheartedly, you run your fingers through his hair to try and keep him asleep while you text Riki back.

Riki I’m outside your dorm. Let me in

You sigh softly as your fingers slow in Sunghoon’s hair. “Hoon,” you whisper as you set your phone down, turning your full attention to the man still asleep in your lap. “Hoon,” you repeat a bit louder. You just get a small hum in response. “Let go, baby, I’ve gotta go see Riki.” This time, Sunghoon lets out a hesitant grumble before loosening his arms around your waist. You smile softly and lean down to press a gentle kiss to his hair. “Stay in bed as long as you want…”

Ignoring your soreness and the heaviness in your eyes, you slip out of bed and quickly shrug on a random sweater and some jeans after replacing your undergarments from the night before. It was probably best to let Riki into your dorm first… then fix the rest of the mess Sunghoon had made you from the previous evening. Wincing a little, you did your best to exit your bedroom without making a sound, and your steps moved faster once you reached the door.

Riki’s tall frame appears as you swing the door open and as he opens his mouth to speak, you hastily press a finger to his lips. He tilts his head in confusion before his eyes find your neck and a look of realization fills his expression. Your face flushes from embarrassment.

“Sit on the couch. I’ll be quick,” you whisper to him as you let him into your dorm. Sluggishly, you go through your morning routine and apply a hefty amount of concealer. Both to the red bruises on your neck and to the dark circles under your eyes. After about another twenty minutes, you and Riki finally leave the dorm building.

You hold onto his arm tightly as the two of you walk through the streets of Cheongdam. “I’m sorry I slept late, Ki… I swear I had an alarm set.”

A laugh leaves him. “Must’ve slipped your mind from all of the fun you were having last night–”

“Nishimura Riki!” you exclaim, cheeks and neck warm from his teasing. Letting out a small huff, you still keep a firm grip on his arm. “Don’t say stuff like that in public…”

“Sorry, princess, you just look so funny when you get all embarrassed–” You cut him off with a soft smack to his arm. “Hey!” Riki whines. “I’m taking you shopping and in return I get hit?”

“Please, I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

The first store he takes you to is Chanel. While Riki isn’t a huge fan of the brand himself, he knows that you like a lot of their pieces. Maybe he could justify picking out and buying you a few things since you liked Chanel. He thought you’d be more excited about looking around, especially since he’d booked a VIP experience, but you still hadn’t moved from his side.

It was almost like you were leaning on him for support, like you were too tired to stand up by yourself.

“Ooh, Riki-chan, look at this dress,” you breathe, and–maybe he’d just been overthinking the way you were clinging to him. After all, you were often very touchy with him. And if something was wrong you’d tell him, right?

He looks at the dress you’re talking about, a rather simple and pretty black one. Strapless with a flowy skirt and a white rose on the center of the neckline. It would fall to about mid-thigh on you. “You should try it on. I want to get you some things today,” he says and, as expected, your wide eyes find his.

“You don’t have to buy me anything! I’m just glad I get to spend time with you.”

Riki tilts his head as his full lips raise into a small smirk. The sight has your heart racing. “If I want to buy you something, I’m buying you something.” He moves away from you, leaving you standing next to the dress. He’s probably going to look for more articles of clothing to make you try on. “Consider it payment for ditching me for Sunghoon-hyung this morning.”

“You–!”

Your youngest boyfriend ends up buying you quite a bit that day, most of them his selections of what you looked best in after modeling each piece he’d picked out for you. By the time you get back to the dorms, your feet hurt and your lack of sleep from the night before is catching up to you.

As you lay in Riki’s bed with him, cuddled closely to his side as a random movie plays in the background, your mind goes back to how many more dates you would have to go on this week. Excluding Valentine’s Day itself. You felt guilty for dreading the number of activities you would participate in, after all, you were an idol. You should be used to having so many energy-draining things to do in a day, much less a week. But the combination of your schedules and the time you were dedicating to your boyfriends, you were already feeling exhausted.

You drift off to sleep before the movie’s even a quarter of the way through.

Part of you is thankful, though, since you have to get up early the next morning for a schedule. With much-needed sleep and cuddles from Riki, you thought you’d be up and bursting with energy the next day, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. He had to practically drag you out of bed and to the bathroom for you to try and put yourself together a little. You weren’t sure why you were so tired, but you refused to let your body be the reason you weren’t able to follow through with all of your plans for the week.

It was Valentine’s Day week for goodness sake.

You had to keep reminding yourself that as Jake showed up just as you finished changing out of your clothes from the photoshoot you’d wrapped up. His big smile and excited eyes only make your guilt grow, and in turn, you push the thought of staying in for the night away.

“If only I was two seconds earlier,” he says as he enters your dressing room. He had knocked, and Jake was only teasing about seeing you indecent.

You playfully roll your eyes as you grab your bag from the table it’s sat on. “Not today, Sim.”

“I know, I know,” Jake laughs as he offers his hand for you to take. You quickly grab onto it and he squeezes your hand in his softly. “How was the shoot?”

Tiring. “It was good. They had me sit in water at one point and it was cold.”

He leads you out of the dressing room and towards the exit of the building. “Well, I can’t wait to see the results. I’m sure they’ll be amazing as always.” It was so sweet the way Jake always knew how to cheer you up. If you were feeling down, even for the stupidest of reasons, he made sure that you knew your feelings were valid and then followed up by distracting you in some way.

And while you weren’t feeling down today, you definitely weren’t feeling your best. But Jake was there like always, and this time for your Valentine’s date, he brought you to an arcade.

His eyes light up almost as bright as the neon lights from the various screens when he sees the variety of games, only for you to drag him over to the claw machines.

“Think you can win me a plushie today?” Jake’s track record wasn’t great. There were only two stuffed animals in your room from claw machines. He hadn’t won either of them. His lips press together in a determined expression and you giggle at the sight.

“Laugh all you want, angel, but you’re gonna be leaving with an armful of the goods.”

“Don’t call them that.” So while spending an obscene amount of money on tokens wasn’t Jake’s first idea for a date with you, he was still overjoyed to do it.

You walk ahead of him with the bowl filled with tokens he’d just purchased, taking him back over to the claw machines. “Okay… Which one d’you want?” You hand him the tokens before turning to the many options of plushies. A polar bear, some kind of snowman, a duck… When your eyes land on an orange cat your finger presses up against the glass.

“That one. The orange tabby.”

Jake scoffs. “If you wanted a cat, you should’ve brought Jungwon.” He pushes two of the tokens into the slot and the machine blares to life. The loud music and glaring lights immediately attack your senses, but you do your best to shake it off.

Your boyfriend steers the toggle with precision. Jake’s aim was good, but it depended if the claw machine wanted to cooperate today or not. And as the dog plushie is dropped one, two, three, four times, you figure that the machines aren’t in the mood to comply. You reach to pull at Jake’s sleeve. “Let’s go do something else.”

He shakes his head, his brown eyes locked on the treasures inside the glass as his fingers work over the joystick again. “No. I’m gonna win you something this time.”

“That’s sweet Jake, but don’t you want to go play some games–”

“I want to win you something.” His mouth presses into a thin line as he barely misses the dog plushie. “Wanna put two more tokens in for me?” You sigh, but you push the two coins into the machine, the lights and music roaring to life again.

The neon colors were beginning to make your head hurt as you leaned against the glass, the coolness doing little to wake you up as you made sure to stay out of the way so Jake could see what he was doing. Your eyes flutter. Maybe you could close them for a second to give them some relief? Jake was very focused on earning this stuffed animal for you anyway. You don’t even realize it when your eyes fully close, and the loud music and other sounds from the arcade do little to keep you present.

Only when Jake cheers victoriously, are you snapped out of the half-conscious state you're in. Your vision is blurry with sleep as your boyfriend squats down to retrieve the plushie before he holds it up for you to see. The excited smile on his face makes you feel guilty, considering it does little to push your exhaustion away.

Despite your attempts to match his enthusiastic smile, Jake notices your weary expression. His eyebrows furrow in concern and the grin drops from his lips as he lowers the plushie. Jake’s free hand comes up to rub your arm in a comforting manner. “You okay?”

You were most definitely not okay. You had never fallen asleep while doing an activity before, much less going on a date. And since Jake cared for you, he shared this information with the rest of your boyfriends, much to your dismay.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Heeseung asks you as he kills the engine of his car in the park’s parking lot. It’s hard to not be a little annoyed with the constant questions if you were okay. You knew that they were coming from a good place, that your boyfriends were just worried about you, but you had promised them you’d tell them if something was wrong. That thought is bitter to you as well, but you didn’t see getting small amounts of sleep as something that was concerning. What would be concerning is if you weren’t able to celebrate the literal holiday of love with them.

You reach across the center console to hold his hand. “I’m okay. If anything, I’m ready to watch this movie with you.” Heeseung’s doe eyes narrow at your words and you were hoping that he’d believe you. “I’ve always wanted to watch a movie from a projector.”

He sighs softly, his free hand coming up to rub at his face a little before he gives in. “Fine. But you’re not carrying anything. And I’m setting it all up.” Like that was a threat.

“That works for me,” you giggle as you let go of his hand and undo your seatbelt to hop out of the passenger’s seat.

True to his word, Heeseung somehow managed to carry the picnic basket the two of you had packed along with the box for the screen and the portable projector all at the same time. You’d teased him about his scrawny arms. He’d threatened to drive you back home. But you both had found a free spot in the grass to set up.

“Is it still crooked?” he asks as he sits next to you on the pink blanket you’d laid out. You had busied yourself with eating some of the chocolate strawberries Heeseung had bought while he had set up the movie.

You shake your head. “Just leave it. It looks good. Besides, I want to cuddle.” Heeseung laughs.

“We’re in public.” True, yes, but it was nighttime and there was hardly anyone in the area you’d picked. “Don’t want someone thinking we’re a weird PDA couple.”

“Oh please,” you scoff softly as Heeseung still moves to let you rest your head on his shoulder. Neither of you are paying attention to the movie, but the speaker on the projector sucks, so you can barely hear it anyway. “If either of us is a fan of PDA it’s you.”

“Maybe, but at least I’m taking other people’s eyes into consideration…” he trails off as you look up at him. A small shudder goes through you as his thumb comes up to wipe at the corner of your mouth. “You’re a messy eater.”

Your face warms at both the action and his words as you look back at the projector screen. “The strawberries are good.”

“Maybe I would know if you’d left some for me.”

Movies this week were apparently your worst enemy. Apart from sleep, of course, but each time that you watched one, you felt yourself lulling into a state of unconsciousness. This time though, you were determined to not fall asleep. But it’s easier said than done as you feel your eyelids begin to droop maybe halfway through.

Heeseung’s a small help, whispering in your ear and sending shivers through your nerves as he comments on the main character’s choices, but it’s still difficult for you to follow along with the storyline when you simply don’t care. Your breath hitches when he tucks his face into your neck, his nose pressing against your skin as you hear him inhale softly.

And when his lips brush against your pulse point, the kisses have the opposite effect that he intends them to have. It’s relaxing, the soft tickling sensation, and when Heeseung pulls away to have his lips find yours, your sleeping face greets him instead. It would be funny if he wasn’t so worried about you.

“I really am fine,” you try to convince your boyfriends as you all sit in the living room on the second floor of the dorms.

Jake gives you a look. “If that were true, you wouldn’t fall asleep while Heeseung-hyung’s trying to make out with you–”

“That’s beside the point,” you interrupt him, a small sense of embarrassment rushing through you. Last night hadn’t been your greatest moment, and while you felt horrible about it, Heeseung had assured you that it was okay. Only after saying ‘I told you so’, though. “The point is that there’s no difference from this week and every other week in my life. I’m always busy.”

“But you’ve never been this tired before,” Sunoo points out as next to you, Jungwon wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Sunoo-ie has a point. Maybe you should just stay in tonight,” Sunghoon suggests and you shake your head frantically.

“No! I’m not letting a little bit of tiredness ruin my Valentine’s week with you all.” You sigh softly as you watch Riki lean against one of the decorative tables next to the couch. “I want to give you all the love you deserve…”

Jay shakes his head from where he’s standing. “We don’t want you to be putting yourself at risk for us though. Even if it is just sleep, your body needs rest, YN-ie.” You huff. He’s right, of course. “There’s nothing wrong with staying in.”

“But I’ve been looking forward to my baking class with you all week,” you complain, feeling frustrated with yourself. “Eunchae-ssi said that the teacher we’re supposed to go see is really nice.” Each of the boys smiles a little at your whining.

“We can always reschedule, angel,” Jay reminds you, but you shake your head again.

“No, this place is popular… Please, Oppa, I want to go.”

You watch as Jay exchanges a look with Heeseung and you hate how it feels like you’re asking if it’s okay for you to go out and do something with them. You understand why, but you still don’t like it. After a moment, Jay meets your eyes again. “Alright. Let’s go. But we’re gonna go to bed early tonight, okay?”

Your heart races with relief as you nod excitedly, squeezing Jungwon beside you in a small hug before you stand. “Okay!”

The baking class starts fine. Jay and you had decided on making molten lava cookies, to satisfy both of your cravings for chocolate, and Eunchae had been right about how sweet the teacher was. She was able to instruct you both while giving you enough space to still have a bit of time just with each other. Problems only begin to surface again while you wait for the cookies to bake.

The teacher had stepped away for a moment to get you all some water, leaving you and Jay alone in the kitchen. You watched him fondly with half-open eyes as he began to wipe down the counter.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. It’s not your job to clean up the workspace.” The corners of his lips tilt up at your statement. The rag in his hands is dropped onto the counter as he glances at you and your sleepy expression.

“I don’t mind doing it. Figured it would help her out considering how messy we got.”

“That was all your doing, by the way.”

Jay laughs, “Sure angel. You totally weren’t the one to spill the flour because you couldn’t keep your eyes open.”

“Hey!” Your giggles are cut off when the timer on the oven goes off. Both of you look over to the oven and Jay moves to shut the timer off. “We should probably take them out so they don’t burn. Our teacher wouldn’t mind, right?” you ask as you shuffle over to lean against Jay’s side.

“She shouldn’t. Most people don’t enjoy eating burnt cookies,” he chuckles as he reaches for the oven mitts. You blink slowly, mind a little fuzzy as you grab them before he can.

“Let me. I feel like I haven’t been any help at all.” Jay lifts his hands in mock surrender as he moves to the side a little, giving you the room you need to get the sheets out of the oven. Carefully, you open the door of the oven and remove the two pans full of chocolate cookies. With the pans safely placed on the top of the counter, you remove the oven mitts and Jay turns off the oven.

The door to the kitchen swings open as the teacher enters again. “Oh, it smells so good in here!” In her hands are three glasses of water, and your boyfriend being the gentleman he is, rushes over to help her set them down. Your heart softens at how kind he is, but as you move to lean against the counter, your hand seeking the surface, a red-hot pain shoots up through your nerves, making you cry out softly.

Jay’s by your side in an instant, and you would almost feel bad for how he’s running back and forth in the kitchen if it wasn’t for the stinging your skin was feeling. He coos gently as one of his hands finds the small of your back, steadying you.

“Let me see, angel.” Hesitantly, you hand him the palm you’d burned on the still-hot cookie sheet. Jay tuts softly and you know you’re in for a scolding later. “You need to be more careful.” Or right now.

Thankfully, the teacher has aloe for even minor burns like these, and Jay helps you run your hand under cool water from the sink, caring as ever. “I am careful,” you protest quietly to Jay as the teacher retrieves the medicine for the barely there burn. “I’m just… tired.”

An immense weight was lifted off your shoulders as you finally admitted it, and the confession received the reaction you were expecting. Because the next day, Valentine’s Day itself, your boys had decided that instead of your one-on-one date with Sunoo, you would be spending the evening at the dorms, resting.

At least you were able to spend some time alone with Sunoo, though.

“I can’t believe I’ve been put on house arrest,” you mumble as he stands between your legs while you sit on the counter. He’s trying a new serum on you tonight, part of his Valentine’s present for you. Sunoo’s fingers gently massage the skin of your cheeks as he works the product into your pores.

“Should put you on house arrest more often. Seems like you can’t figure out what’s best for you–”

You smack his shoulder playfully, making Sunoo laugh. “I’ve learned my lesson.” You suck in a breath between your teeth. “I forget how much burns can hurt.” Sunoo’s laugh fades and is replaced with a look of worry.

“Does it still hurt a lot?” With a tight-lipped smile, you shake your head. The counter is cool under your legs and goosebumps rise on your thighs since you’re wearing pajama shorts instead of pants.

“Just a little. It’s still red. See?” You offer him your injured hand and Sunoo carefully takes it.

“Let’s put some more lotion on it. It’ll help it cool down.” He lets go of your hand, but you keep it raised as he moves to grab the cooling lotion Jay had purchased for you on your way home from the baking class yesterday. It’s like he’s handling a porcelain doll as your raven-haired boyfriend massages the lotion into your hand. His eyes never leave the red mark on your palm as your eyes never leave his face.

“Thank you for putting up with me,” you say softly. “I should say that to all of you… I’m sorry for not telling you all how tired I was, I just–” A heavy sigh escapes you as Sunoo’s eyes meet yours. “I just wanted this week to be perfect. You all do so much for me and I wanted to give you all of my time and love in return.”

Sunoo’s thumb brushes over your palm again. “You already do that every day. We all know how much love and care you put into your relationship with each of us… And we’re so grateful, princess.” He carefully lifts your hand to his lips, kissing the burn mark gently. “This week– this Valentine’s Day is perfect because we’re all together. No amount of missed dates could ever affect that.”

It’s hard not to feel like crying from his words, and your heart is touched by how Sunoo soothed you. Just like the cooling lotion on your burn. “Thank you, Sun.”

“Of course, princess,” he says as he helps you remove the pink skincare headband and then helps you off the counter. “Let’s join the others before they start getting crabby, hmm?” You laugh softly as you nod. Sunoo guides you out of the bathroom and back into the living room.

They’d gone all out in terms of decorating the second floor’s dorm. Cushions and blankets covered the ground in front of the couch, and they’d pushed the coffee table off to the side. From where the coffee table was, just in front of the TV, it’d been stocked with snacks and other little treats for you all to enjoy throughout the night. Fairy lights had been draped along the walls and set to a light pink color, enhancing the Valentine’s Day ambiance. Other than the fairy lights, there was only one other lamp on. From the ceiling were little pink and red heart-hanging decorations that sparkled when they caught the light from the fairy lights. In the corner of the living room were all of the gifts you've received from them. Having just opened them, you didn’t have the time to move them to your room yet.

But that didn’t bother you too much. Not when all of your boys were already lounging on the couch and the other cushions they’d placed on the floor. It was like your own little heaven and it made you sad to think about how it’d have to be cleaned up eventually.

“Did you guys have to be in there for five hours?” Riki asks, setting his phone down as you and Sunoo enter the living room. There’s a clear spot left for you in the center of the couch.

“It was only one hour,” Sunoo corrects as you bound over to the couch, practically jumping between Jake and Sunghoon. “Riki-ah, if you want me to do your skincare, all you have to do is ask.”

Riki’s quick to shake his head. Instead, he leans over Jake to kiss your cheek. “Do I look as refreshed as I feel?” you teasingly ask your boyfriends. As expected, a flood of compliments is fast to follow.

“You look beautiful” “You're glowing, Doll” “Your bare face is my favorite”

You can’t help the way your heart races at their words, and you cuddle further between Jake and Sunghoon as Sunoo sits on the floor in front of you with Heeseung, Jay, and Jungwon. There are seven sets of eyes on you as you laugh softly.

“Thank you all for this. I don’t know what I would do without each of you,” you say with a small smile on your face. “I love you all so very much.”

With the way they’re looking at you, you don’t need to hear them say the same words back to know they feel the exact same way. Still, you can’t help but feel your eyes water as each of your loves tells you how much they love you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Doll,” Jungwon whispers to you as he reaches up to squeeze your hand. You return the gesture before settling back down. Jay and Heeseung were trying to decide which movie to put on, but you couldn't care less when you were with the people you loved the most.

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

[ikkyfics]

Discounted Hearts

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: The 50% discount for couples seemed like the perfect excuse when you asked Remus to come along. You reached the counter, and the barista looked you both over. “Sorry, but... we can only apply the discount if you kiss. House policy,” she announced, her teasing smile dancing on her lips.

Warnings: muggle au, fluffy, no use of y/n, pre relationship

A/N: happy valentine’s day to everyone!! (it's a little funny, because here valentine's day is only celebrated in june) I hope you enjoy reading it <3333

Masterlist

The line at the café stretched along the sidewalk, with couples exchanging shy smiles and interlaced fingers. The aroma of coffee and hot chocolate floated in the air, and you couldn’t help but cast an anxious glance at the entrance. You were finally here, standing in front of the café you’d always wanted to visit but that was far too expensive for your budget. The 50% discount for couples seemed like the perfect excuse—or at least, that’s what you told yourself when you asked Remus to come along.

“Thanks for coming,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice casual.

“It’s not like I could say no.” He smiled—a small but genuine smile—and you felt something tighten in your chest. His brown hair was tousled by the wind, a strand falling across his forehead in a way you found utterly endearing. His brown eyes, tinged with amber in the soft evening light, were fixed on you.

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the heat rising up your neck. “Look, it shouldn’t be that hard. We just need to look like... a normal couple.”

Remus lowered his gaze, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Normal, right. Easy.”

You laughed, and before you could second-guess yourself, you looped your arm through his. He stiffened for a moment but didn’t pull away. The touch felt right—natural in a way it shouldn’t have.

“There. We don’t even look like we’re pretending.” You cast a glance at your reflection in the café window. The glass was fogged, but it captured the outlines of the two of you together. The picture seemed almost perfect. “I think we look cute.”

Remus chuckled, the color in his cheeks deepening. “You’re brave for saying that. I’m just over here trying to remember how to walk.”

“I didn’t invite you to torture you, I swear,” you said with a smile, though your heart was pounding furiously. You knew he was reserved, but you’d always sensed there was something beyond his shyness—a quiet kind of connection that only the two of you shared.

The line finally moved, and you were ushered inside. The warmth of the café enveloped you, the scent of coffee and sugar heightening everything. You reached the counter, and the barista—a girl with a playful smile and watchful eyes—looked you both over.

“Sorry, but... we can only apply the discount if you kiss. House policy,” she announced, her teasing smile dancing on her lips.

The world seemed to stop for a moment. The café’s noise—the soft conversations, the clinking of cups, the hiss of the milk steamer—all faded away. Your heart raced, heat flooding your face. A nervous smile tugged at the corners of your mouth before you could stop it.

Your eyes sought Remus’s. He was already looking at you.

“So...” you began, but the word felt heavy on your tongue. You couldn’t just say out loud that it was all pretend.

Remus understood. Of course he did. There was a silent understanding between you, as there always had been.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice soft—steady, but with something more hidden at the edges.

Before you could process it, Remus lifted his hand and gently touched your face. His fingertips brushed your skin, and it felt like an electric current shot through you. His eyes were locked on yours, deep and warm like melted honey, and for a moment, the world grew small—existing only for the two of you.

The kiss started timidly. His lips brushed yours with a lightness that barely felt real. A whisper of silk, hesitant and unsure, like he was stepping into something unknown. But then, almost imperceptibly, the kiss changed.

The touch became more certain. There was something neither of you dared name but couldn’t ignore any longer. He leaned in a little more, and the world around you disappeared. The café, the line, the barista—none of it mattered. Only the warm, soft taste of Remus, his fingers grazing the line of your jaw, and the too-rapid thudding of your heart.

When your lips finally parted, both of you were breathless. Remus didn’t pull away. Your faces remained close—so close that you could feel the warmth of his skin, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. He looked like he was about to lean in again, his eyes darkened with an intensity that made you shiver.

But then he stopped.

“Kiss accepted,” the barista declared, her grin even wider. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you two.”

You blinked, reality rushing back like a gust of cool air. An uncertain smile spread across your lips as you tried to catch your breath. Remus lowered his hand slowly but didn’t fully let go.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you walked to a corner table, away from curious eyes. The warmth of his touch was steady, as if he didn’t want to let go.

You sat down, and the silence between you felt different now. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was full of everything that hadn’t been said.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, your eyes drifting to the faint scars that marked his hands. You’d always thought they were beautiful—a part of the story that made him who he was.

Remus looked at you. His smile was small, shy, but so genuine that it made your chest ache. “Yeah. I am.”

He slid his hand across the table to yours. His fingers laced through yours with a softness that felt devastating. The touch was firm yet gentle. Like a promise.

And it was real.

For a moment, neither of you moved. All that mattered was the warmth of your joined hands, the exchanged glances, and the silence filled with unspoken meaning.

Remus looked at you again, and the entire world seemed to narrow to this one moment.

“Maybe...” He stopped, as if searching for the right words, his eyes diving into yours.

You waited, heart beating faster, but you didn’t rush him. You knew Remus well enough to understand that he was someone who thought before speaking, someone who didn’t say things lightly.

“Maybe we should...” He bit his lower lip, a soft blush already staining his cheeks. “Maybe we should kiss again. But, um... not for a discount.”

The smile you tried to hide fought its way out. It was the kind of thing only Remus would say—awkward and adorable. You had always liked that part of him—that genuine shyness, as if he was constantly surprised to be cared for.

“Oh, sure,” you teased softly. “Then, why?”

Remus rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropping briefly to your still-entwined hands on the table. “Maybe... because I liked it,” he admitted, his voice so low it almost got lost in the background noise of the café.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. There was something about this moment—not nervous or embarrassed, but filled with a tenderness too precious to break.

“Remus,” you said softly, and he lifted his gaze immediately, his eyes locking onto yours again. “I liked it too.”

For a moment, no words were spoken. But no words were needed. The silence was filled with everything you understood about each other.

Remus lightly squeezed your fingers between his, the rough calluses of his skin sliding carefully against yours. “I think... I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he confessed. “About you.”

The air felt lighter, softer. And somehow, more intense.

“Funny,” you murmured, leaning slightly over the table. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

His smile appeared slowly, like something he’d been holding back for too long and was finally letting escape. And suddenly, it felt as if all that pretending, that little theater for a discount, had opened a door you were both ready to step through.

“So, if I wanted to kiss you again...” Remus began, his voice soft and hesitant. “Now... would that be weird?”

A gentle shiver ran down your spine, but the smile that spread across your face was immediate, natural. “Not at all.”

He hesitated for just a second before standing and walking around the small table. His warmth seemed to wrap around you before he even sat next to you. Now closer, the outside world faded even further away.

“Okay,” he murmured, his brown eyes meeting yours, his breath so close you could feel its warmth against your skin.

Remus leaned in slowly, and the kiss that followed this time was different. There was no same shyness or doubt as before. It was tender and, at the same time, eager, as if he were pouring months—maybe years—of unspoken thoughts into that moment.

You smiled against his lips, and you felt the soft curve of his mouth respond to yours. There was a lightness, almost a silly happiness, in the way Remus’s lips explored yours, as if you were both discovering something that had always been there but now made sense in a new and brilliant way.

When you finally pulled apart, he let his forehead rest against yours, his eyes closed for a moment.

“I should’ve brought you flowers,” he murmured, as if speaking to himself.

“Flowers?” you asked, your tone soft but filled with curiosity.

Remus opened his eyes and leaned back slightly, the blush staining his face again. “It’s... it’s Valentine’s Day, after all. And I—well, I wanted it to be special. Because, if we’re going to date...” He paused, as if wondering if he had said too much.

“Date?” The word danced on your lips, and you saw his blush deepen.

“I—um. I mean. Only if you want to, of course,” Remus quickly continued, his fingers moving nervously over yours. “But I really... really want that.”

The tenderness you felt was almost overwhelming. You held his fingers, intertwining them again, and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Remus,” you said, and he finally looked at you. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

The smile that appeared on his lips was small but filled with a happiness that made your heart flutter.

He lowered his gaze to your hands, as if trying to absorb everything that had just happened. “Still,” he murmured. “I wish I’d done everything right. Flowers. Maybe a proper dinner.”

You let out a soft laugh and, on impulse, leaned in to place a light kiss on the corner of his mouth. “You already did everything right.”

Remus smiled, the warmth in his eyes brighter than any bouquet could be. He leaned a little closer, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to kiss you again, but something made him pause.

“I’m not dreaming, right?” he asked, his voice so soft it seemed almost afraid of the answer.

“No. This isn’t a dream.”

He took a deep breath, as if storing the moment deep in his soul. Then, with a simple and sweet gesture, Remus wrapped an arm around you, gently pulling you close.

“So, our first date was at a café,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Is there anything more romantic than a 50% discount?”

“Classic romance,” you agreed, laughing

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Red Mercedes

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: Perfect married life sometimes hides the rotten truth of lies.

Warnings: cheating, slight manipulation, George getting what’s his at all cost, curse words and smut implication

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: After a frustrating week of not having any good ideas, I had a dream, so I finally had something to pour my heart into. It was so intense that it didn't let me eat my lunch, how fast my fingers drummed at the keyboard and my thoughts flew out of my brain. Enjoy it! :) wanted to include my favorite pregnancy trope, but i decided to not go that way this time

———

“Dad, I’m trying to tell you that mum is acting weird.” Your twelve year old son was travelling with George to Cayman Island for this event he was invited to, to speak about his ongoing career path as a leading F1 champion. 

George glanced at him, his hands gripping the steering wheel, regally upset about the fact that even your son noticed that something isn't right with your marriage.

“Mum is just tired. That’s all.” he tried to brush it off, but he knew. 

“You know, dad, I’m not stupid. I saw her with some man a week ago, sitting at the restaurant when we were out on a bike with boys. She was smiling at him like… Well, not like she’s smiling at you.” his son continued to ponder with his thoughts, pouring his mind out, making George feel uneasy. Pulling over at the hotel they were supposed to stay at, engine off, he turned his body to face his son.

“Buddy, I know that you love your mom, hell, who could not love her.. But she’s- it’s just a phase. I’m gonna figure it out, and you have nothing to worry about.” he tried to reassure him with his soft smile, his eyes betraying him, reflecting the weight of the growing lies.

———

“I see that you’re here with your son, he grew so much throughout the years, aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna be after you soon, you know, with racing and stuff?” 

George chuckled, moving his gaze at his giggling son in the first row, his sweaty palm wrapped around the microphone. “Well, there is the possibility, but his hobbies are different. He’s much more of a cyclist, so I think that Tadej Pogacar should be scared of having another rival.” 

“Oh, that’s great! Guess the Russell’s family is spreading through the field of sports. It’s a shame that your wife isn’t here with us, we had planned to have a family photo shoot for you, also spending some time on the yacht with the staff here.” 

George was professional at keeping his composure, so he just chuckled again, looking at the crowd of people in the small room.

“We can do that anyway, we don’t need my wife for that. She’s busy with some of her other projects, so…” 

Everybody seemed to be happy about it, not noticing the slight frown on George’s face and his son’s.

You were staying at home in Monaco, texting with your lover. Your naive brain was living in an illusion that nobody knows, you sneaking around with someone else, secret meetings at the old restaurant on the other side of the town, your red luxurious Mercedes parked in front of it very often. You were really dumb in some aspects and being so careless about getting after your own desires, you hurt your family in the process.

All those years of your marriage you heard it around you all the time, how George is a gentleman, kind guy, loving and caring husband and father, how every other woman would die for having him just for at least five minutes. But nobody saw that toll that had an impact on you, your life when you fell pregnant unexpectedly, and how George married you just because of it. Feeding you with all those empty promises, but leaving you alone through all that maternity shit because he was at the peak of his career while you were breastfeeding his restless son at night.

Yeah, there were times you were genuinely happy as a family, somewhere between the three to ten years of your son, George was more present, you accompanied him at races from time to time, depending on how his and your parents were willing to look after your kid. 

But the last two years felt like a nightmare, because George won another two championships after five years of no luck, his fans being literally everywhere, even breaking into your home. You spent a lot of time on the go, changing your location and you grew tired of this. Intimity between you and George was long gone, and you yearned for something he couldn’t give you, the tension, secrecy and passion. Even if it meant to destroy everything you have.

———

Darkness overtook the docks in Monaco, rain washing away the summer heat wave. George stood at the huge ass window of your penthouse, sipping on his whiskey, even though he did not favour the liquid that much, he got used to it from time to time. Your son was away for the holiday cycling camp, and with summer break in F1, it left him home alone with the lingering scent of your expensive perfume you saved for your not so secret lover. His mind wandered over divorce, but he was too prideful to let it happen. He didn’t care about your needs, shameful desires, he wanted to keep his family together. Even if it meant to ruin your sweet secret life. And he knew his plan was working the minute you stepped into your home through the threshold, sobbing quietly, with your dress soaked through, droplets of water dripping down your hair. His lips curling into smirk, he took the last sip of his drink, leaving the glass on the coffee table in the living room, walking slowly to the hallway.

You kicked off your heels, running your hands through your wet hair, wiping off your tears along the way, your mascara staining your cheeks. Feeling how your dress is sticking to your body, you let out a frustrated sigh with a whine, finally noticing George standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest wearing an unreadable expression.

“What’s the matter baby?” his tone was laced with smugness, he couldn’t hold it back anymore, seeing the mess you were.

“Nothing.” you muttered, trying to walk around him to get to the bathroom, but he was after you.

“You’re clearly distressed. Tell me what happened. You were supposed to have a night out with girls, if I remember correctly?” yeah, he was playing dumb.

“I was. But my car left me in the parking lot, because the smoke started to go out of the engine and I needed to call the towing service and-” you stopped in your rant abruptly as you got to the part you wanted to erase from your memory and you didn’t want to talk about it with George.

“And? Tell me darling.” his tone was firm, demanding, he caged your body against the counter in the bathroom.

You looked up to see his face, locking your gaze with his, reading his mind. He knew. And yet he was still there.

“He left me.” with your head slumped down you whispered feeling deeply ashamed. 

George smiled victoriously as the memory from earlier this week flashed through his mind, him paying that pathetic lover of yours loads of money to leave you, to ruin you, to destroy you.

“Oh baby.” he cooed sweetly, cupping that mascara stained cheeks of yours, listening to your sobs. And that was the last straw and you broke down in tears, all of the suppressed emotions flowing out as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, remorse and guilt building in your heart. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” you whispered into his chest, your tears staining his shirt. 

“Shhh… I’m right here baby. It’s okay.” his fingers brushed through your hair affectionately, making you relax.

“You should be disgusted with me…” 

“Believe me, I was at first. But from your point of view I somehow understood it.” 

“How… How long have you known?”

“Since the first time you giggled at your phone.”

“I thought that I’m good at hiding it.” 

“Oh, you were so naive that I won’t notice. You weren’t even creative at hiding your car properly. That exclusive red shade of it doesn't go unnoticed. Even our son saw you many times.” 

You shuddered when you felt his lips ghosting against your temple. The mention of your son stabbed you through your heart. 

“George, I-” 

“Shhh, darling. Your stupid boyfriend ditched you, so let your husband, the man who truly knows how to devour you, take care of you.” George whispered with a soft hum, his lips pressed under your ear.

The way he talked made you feel ashamed. But it ignited something within you, the lust and desire for him. And it made you curse internally at how dumb you were for the past years.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember who you belong to.” 

After the night to remember when George really took you like a slut you were, listening to your whines and moans, making you tell him how that lover made you feel, what he did to you, he made sure that you won’t escape his embrace again. Watching you sleep beside him, your body covered in love bruises and marks he hasn’t seen on you for months, he brushed the strand of your hair from your face, smiling proudly at how easy you were. All those years he thought you’re this soft and reserved girl who likes vanilla in bed, only to find out that you loved to be cock drunk all the time, overstimulated to the madness to keep your mind from wandering outside of the wedlock. 

“You were so wrong to think that I’d let you go, my beautiful wife…” and his whisper lingered through your sleeping brain like a lullaby.

-

Please don't use my writings without a permission. Pictures found on Pinterest.

Tags: @chilling-seavey

[akashirl]

valentine's post !! ♡

from the moment i saw you, i knew i'd be destined to a life full of love -- forever. from the moment my eyes met yours, your first pass, our first game together...it was magical. i was a kid, that much is true, and you can argue saying that children can't comprehend the depth of love. i'm not sure i did at the time, but the heaviness in my chest was never taken lightly.

captain, you have touched me with such profoundness than i ever thought you could. we've been through hell together, you were there for me at my lowest even though i was too consumed to see it, you have always been there. your presence never became an absence in my eyes.

i know that we're destined to be apart due to the events life has prepared for us, but i do not mind. just being with you right now is enough to light up my heavy soul. you may not be real. i may not be real. life might be a simulation and yet, you're the realest feeling, the softest touch, the sun behind the clouds.

you may feel unworthy of affection due to how your past has treated you. you may not even understand why; hell, sei, questioning it may not be enough for you but just know that i love you for who you are. i love you for the person i become when you're near. i love you, i have loved you and i will love you until the end of time. the red string attached to our hearts is conceived from iron.

i adore every single detail of yours. when i catch you looking at me, your light smile, your breathtaking eyes, your soft but firm touch...from your hair to your toes, what is there not to love? and how could i not adore you? the way you keep me in line when i'm not at my best. the way you take care of me when i'm at my worst. you push me to do better, motivate me everyday...more than just a lover, you're a role model to me. i look up to you more than anything in this world.

i have loved you more, but so much more than i have found a way to tell you. and even though i like to believe that you were the one who found me, i know that the truth is that we found eachother. be it in our moments of weakness, happiness, loneliness...my care for you is eternal. my heart is at your service.

a person is like a canvas. mine was completely blank until we met. every moment with you is a brushstroke -- and even when you think the painting is complete, it keeps evolving. with every sunrise, i feel myself lost in your crimson eyes, brighter than the sun, deeper than the moon. i wouldn't trade the goosebumps i get for anything in the world.

well, being with you feels like winning the lottery every single day. not that money could ever compare to the happiness you bring to me, but it may be easier to understand if i put it that way. quoting edward cullen (cringe, i know), « you're like my own personal brand of heroin ». i've grown completely addicted to you, to your eyes, to your lips, to your smile, to your gentle mannerism and your way of getting things done. it's not our fault that life has other events in store for us. we may not even talk in a few decades, as you'll carve a path of success ahead of you and i seem like an unlikely ingredient to the mix. i just hope that in the future, even when you have a wife and kids, you think of how happy we were in high school. i hope you think a little bit of me everyday; and i pray it doesn't destroy you. just know that wherever you are, i will be thinking of you. and whenever you need me, i will be no further than a single call away.

seijuro akashi, you are my own true love. even before we met, my heart missed you. looking into your eyes is reflecting my happiness...our story doesn't have to be perfect -- it doesn't need a happy ending. what matters is that you're here, now, and so am i; and what we feel is pure and true. sometimes, i feel as if i started loving you even before existing...perhaps we came from the same shooting star.

« you are my true north. the pull of my heart's compass always points to you. » and i will keep following you, as your shadow, wherever you go. i know that under that thick façade, you're yearning for love just as much as i am. and trust me, i will make you feel it every single day by your side.

and if we can't be together in this life, i will wait for our next one. and the one next. all the lives ahead of me, i will be looking for my favorite redhead. i see your smile in houses, trees, people, books...everywhere i go, i am intoxicated by your tenderness. isn't it beautiful how a single person can change your whole entire life? or rather, give that monotone life the color it needed?

sei, you are my person. you will always be my person. being your valentine is an honor i am delighted to have. just let me love you, alright?

i know i said i only had two drawings ready but turns out i had three. oh well.

🏀 | my henchmen: @pigeonbksimp @pinkreveluv6 @ilovemaiubo @japeneselunchtimerush @sweijuro @fl0ralsxgar

event by @strawbeaniie !!

happy valentine's day to all!!

[honeylungsims]

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for the nice messages and replies to my comeback posts :3 It feels good to be back. I love this community, even though my non existent social interactions with y'all might not reflect that much, lol.

Secondly, I think I'm ALMOST ready to actually start playing. Right now the biggest hurdle to overcome is naming the new neighborhood and its subhoods. I have some ideas, but nothing feels "perfect" yet.

I'll keep my thinking cap on and maybe I'll have some more updates to share soon!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I saw what you said about the dreams being nothing and useless to the story, and I was curious about something, do you think the characters that never got closure or development from their book should have stayed like that or do you think a new book should have been made to tie up the initial stories?

Heartslabyul for example had a lot of loose ends on their book that never got resolved, Cater never had focus or allowed development, the others too didnt get true closure, and I thought the heartslabyul dreams was the perfect way to finish their arc in a fulfilling way.

But you hold the opinion the dream arcs shoudnt have focused on them too much right? Do you think It was okay for the characters development to end in their book, or do you think their closure should have been in a different moment or way?

[Referencing this post!]

While I realize that the original post was very critical of the dream hopping segments, I did not mean to call them "nothing" and "useless" as a whole. I'm unhappy with how the dreams were executed, especially the lack of urgency present in them. My main gripe is how the characters know that they're on a time crunch, yet they hardly ever act like it. Instead, they stand around for multiple segments eating fake food or casually sharing stories about their families. This is time-wasting nonsense and it does nothing to help their situation. We quickly started to stray from Diasomnia and the urgency of the conflict at hand in favor of fanservice (like dorm leader Cater, despite Cater expressing he never wanted the position) and trying to explain away that fanservice with contrived dialogue.

Please do not misunderstand me. I never said that I don't want any non-Ignihyde or non-Diasomnia character to get development in book 7. It's true that many characters, especially the non-OB boys, never got the spotlight in previous books or that we never got the satisfaction of seeing their growth this far into the school year. If any of them were going to get attention, it makes sense to do it now as one last hurrah in book 7. It might not have been very obvious due to the critical nature of that original post, but I actually thought some of the later dreams (namely the Savanaclaw and Heartslabyul ones) were good and wrapped things up nicely. I will, however, still lampoon them for having the characters standing around and eating/talking for way too long.

It's not that I wished the game didn't focus on the non-OB boys, it's that I wished the execution of them wasn't so meandering. If the devs wanted to keep the dream segments in, they should have trimmed the fat out. Get rid of all (or most of) the idle parts, or at least trim down on the idle dialogue by a lot. Or maybe just make the OB boys mandatory and the others optional. Like, still part of book 7 but you can read the non-OB boys at your leisure, similar to collecting individual students' wishes in the Wish Upon a Star event, and you only need to clear the OB boys to advance in the story. Have short scenes where dorm members reunite (sort of like at the end of book 6, when everyone regrouped with their respective OB boy) and gear up + strategize with each other. Cut back briefly to Malleus and Lilia's brawl between each dorm, just to keep them relevant and/or remind us of that clock ticking down as Lilia gets more and more worn down. Maybe standardize how many parts are dedicated to every character too… Not have a spread of 4 to 46. That would at least speed us along a little faster or at least give a better sense of rushing to prepare for the fight against Malleus.

That being said, characters don’t just magically stop developing the instant their book ends. They’re changing on their own, outside of the purview of the player or off-screen (like when Riddle talks with his mom over winter break), all the time. A lot of this happens through self-reflection/internal thoughts, so we the players don’t get to see it. It doesn’t mean the characters haven’t changed or wouldn’t change without us viewing it ourselves. Even now, the characters are still growing and changing. Some of them might have more concrete “closure” now (like Kalim finally getting to punch Jamil), but the truth of the matter is that character development never truly “ends” (ie Kalim and Jamil still have their complicated relationship to sort through). It is a continuous thing we consciously work at. There’s truly no end in sight for it. Regardless of whether we got those dream sequences or not or how that development was delivered to us, this still would have been true.

[cyanide-and-roses]

Vengeance and Valentines

Two-Face x Female Reader

⁽ᶜᵂ: ᵐᵘʳᵈᵉʳ, ʸᵃⁿᵈᵉʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ, ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢⁱᵛᵉ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛⁱᵒʳ⁾

(Author's note: this was originally a request for @yandere-wishes, but I accidentally deleted the original draft. My bad, I can be such a ditz. Anyways, happy Valentine's Day!)

You carefully inspected the image reflected in your vanity mirror. You had a date tonight, and your mind was filled to the brim with worry. Was your makeup good? Did your jewelry match your outfit? Was the dress you picked out good enough?

You take a deep breath.

"You look perfect." you told yourself, your reassuring smile reflected back at you.

You turn your attention to the alarm clock sitting across the room on your bedside table.

It's 6:00 PM. One hour before Harvey should be here.

"Maybe I should have waited a bit before I got ready." you sigh. Well, now you've got some time to kill. You grab a book from your bookshelf and go to sit on the edge of your bed.

You open the book and find yourself unable to focus on the words in the page, your mind still racing with worry.

"Are you putting yourself in danger by dating a known criminal?" You ask yourself.

Not only was he wanted by the police, but there's plenty of monsters who have a bone to pick with your lover. Sure, Harvey, as well as his alter Two-Face, wouldn't let any of them lay a finger in you, but you'd have to be stupid to ignore the fact that by associating with them, you're putting a target on your back.

Two-Face is also known to get jealous. You recall how a few weeks ago he snapped and threatened one of his henchmen because he believed they were ogling you. The poor bastard swore up and down that he was doing no such thing, but Two-Face wasn't having it. You had to talk him out of hurting the guy.

Even though it is obvious that what you're doing is dangerous, you're still hesitant to leave Harvey. You love him, after all, and you seem to have evaded misfortune so far. There's also a small part of you, a darker, maybe even masochistic side of you, that wants to find out how bad it can get.

You try to ignore all these thoughts racing around your mind but to no avail. Frustrated, you put down the book and look at the clock.

An hour and twenty minutes has passed.

"Where the hell is he?" you mutter in mild annoyance, before you hear a knock at the door. You quickly make your way out of your room and to the front door.

Upon opening the door, you are greeted by the sight of your darling in his usual two-toned suit, stained with blotches of deep red blood.

"Sorry I'm late," he begins to speak, ignoring the shocked expression on your face. "I forgot I had some last minute business to attend to."

"Harvey... you're..."

"Oh, right! The blood. Didn't have time to change. We'll just swing by my place before we head out to dinner." He takes you by the arm rather suddenly and leads you to his car which he parked in your driveway. He ushers you into the backseat, before he gets up front and starts the car.

Once the shock wears off a little, you gather up enough courage to ask what exactly is going on.

"Somebody's been getting too close to you for my liking." He explains, still very nonchalant about the very strange situation he's put you in. "You know that guy you work with? The chatty one?"

Dreads courses through your veins as you figure out what he's going to say next.

"He was just a coworker! You didn't need to kill the man!"

"Just a coworker? The man has been planning to ask you out for a while." Harvey justifies.

"How would you know that? What, have you been watching him? Going through his stuff? Fuck, even if he was going to ask me out, I would have just turned him down!"

Harvey's jaw clenches. You can tell you're starting to anger him.

"(Y/N), I trust you enough to know you won't leave me, but that doesn't mean I can stand idly by as somebody tries to steal you away. It doesn't matter that they won't succeed, it's the fact they even think about it in the first place." He says, trying to keep his voice as calm and steady as possible.

There's a silence between the two of you for a few minutes, before Two-Face speaks up.

"I could have been more brutal, you know? The bastard got lucky. If he lost the coin toss, I would've prolonged his death. He's lucky he just got a knife through the heart."

You don't respond.

"Look, I know what I did was drastic. I know I scared you, but I did it because I love you too much to risk losing you. Now, we're almost at my place. How about I get changed, then we enjoy our night out, okay? I'm sorry for worrying you."

Harvey waits for your response.

"Alright, babe... let's just get going." You sigh and force a smile.

You knew how dangerous loving this man could get. There's no backing out now. All you have to do is ignore the dread in your stomach and try to enjoy your special night out.

[oldangryslytherin]

Tom encounters a Siren

Tom sat rigidly in the creaking boat, his knuckles pale against the oars as he rowed. The diadem sat beside him in a velvet-lined box, its presence pressing against his thoughts like a stone in his shoe. The lake stretched endlessly in every direction, black and mirror-smooth, reflecting only the faint glimmer of moonlight. He pushed harder on the oars, muscles straining as though he could row fast enough to outrun the memory. Harry’s tears, his trembling voice, the way he’d looked so broken when Tom walked away. And worst of all, how Tom had felt his resolve waver. For one dangerous, fleeting moment, he’d wanted to stay. “Tom.” The sound came soft, almost swallowed by the night air. He froze, the oars hanging limply in his hands. His eyes darted over the empty expanse of water, but nothing moved. “Tom.” This time it was clearer, and his blood turned to ice. He dropped the oars with a clatter, spinning around to face the voice. “Who’s there?” he demanded, his voice sharp, cracking through the stillness. Only silence answered. Then, a ripple spread across the surface of the lake. His breath hitched, and his wand slipped into his hand. Emerald green glimmering through the water. Harry. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, and his eyes gleamed like they used to, impossibly bright in the moonlight. He looked just as Tom remembered, just as perfect. He smiled, soft and inviting, and lifted a hand to wave. “Jump in the water. Come with me,” Harry said, his voice light and sweet, filled with a warmth that twisted the knife already buried deep in Tom’s chest. Tom shook his head, his hands trembling where they clutched the edge of the boat. “No. I can’t.” Harry tilted his head, his smile widening as though he knew something Tom didn’t. “Don’t fear. I’ll catch you. I’ll get you. I’ll keep you safe.” Tom’s voice cracked. “You can’t keep me safe… You can only be safe without me. That’s why I broke up with you.” Harry’s smile didn’t falter. He leaned lazily against a jagged rock rising from the water, his posture casual and inviting. “Don’t think about it,” he murmured, his tone coaxing. “I got you. I’ll take that suffering from you.” Tom’s throat tightened. “What suffering?” he whispered. “All the pain you’re carrying,” Harry replied, his voice as soft as a lullaby. “I’ll take it from you. I’ll take your pain.” Tom’s gaze dropped to Harry’s chest, smooth and glistening under the moonlight. His stomach turned. There was no scar. There should have been a scar—a small, rectangular mark just above his heart. Tom remembered tracing it with his fingers, the way Harry would smile, bashful, as if it embarrassed him. But here, Harry’s chest was blank, unmarked. “You’re not him,” Tom spat. The thing before him froze, its smile slipping, twisting. The warmth in its eyes faded, replaced by something hollow and predatory. Its skin began to ripple and distort, scales breaking through as its features lengthened. Gills flared along its neck, its once-soft hair turning stringy and wet. When it bared its teeth, they were sharp and jagged, gleaming in the moonlight. A siren. Tom’s wand was in his hand before the creature could move. The creature let out a piercing screech, its body thrashing violently before it disappeared beneath the surface, leaving only ripples behind. He stood motionless, his wand raised, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The lake was empty again. He sank to the floor of the boat, his legs weak beneath him. He thought of Harry. The real Harry. He thought of his eyes, his smile, the warmth he’d always carried with him. He wondered if that light still existed or if it had dulled, snuffed out like he feared. But he already knew the answer. He’d seen it—the moment he said goodbye, the green of Harry’s eyes dimmed, their brightness stolen by the weight of Tom’s betrayal. And no matter how far he rowed, that weight stayed with him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63079738

It won't let me post the pretty link shit I hate Tumblr

[itspileofgoodthings]

I don’t even fully know why but “what do I do when I miss you so much?” / “Just wait, and pray desperately” was a knife to my heart in the best way.

[st4rstudent]

i feel somewhat responsible for this, even if i’m not the one saying these things. I’m genuinely so sorry.

No need to apologize! It's not one singular person doing it and truth be told I don't think it's a large majority that thinks that (albeit the ones that do are quite vocal). I didn't mean to upset anyone or anything when complaining about it, I was just letting off some steam.

Having a yap session under the cut sorry I feel like rambling under your ask anon.

Admittedly, I do think there are reasonings for people thinking this way. A lot of the focus with Clash has been on the cogs, especially after the 1.3 update. Which I can't say I blame them! Managers were something new and exciting and (from what I can tell) really separated them from the other servers. I don't blame them for wanting to put focus on that because that was their thing. Alongside other things, but majorly when you hear Clash the managers are mentioned in someway shape or form. But as we all know, toons ended up taking the short stick from this. This isn't helped by the gameplay itself, being mainly a fetch-quest deal so you often only talk to npcs once or twice unless if they're repeated ones and the taskline wasn't entirely accessible on the wiki for a while (shoutout to the wiki maintainers. The taskline script is a savior). Which I'm quite excited to see if they deal with this issue with the rewrite. I imagine they will, but anyways. Social media posts would often contain more managers than toons, which I also believe they're starting to fix. And ontop of this, I believe most of the team in the early era of the sever is gone, so there's been some stuff lost in the change. So yeah, dialogue/writing has been kind of rocky. AGAIN- I am completely aware of the rewrite going on and I am not judging them harshly based off of their current state. I'm very appreciative of the fact that they took the time to listen and are focusing on trying to fix it up. And then there's also fandom mischaracterization- especially of the cogs. Forgive me for mentioning mischaracterization because normally I wouldn't really care (I've mischaracterized characters before..especially in my younger years. I think it's just a process of learning an having fun and I hate to limit anyone because of it). With that being said, there's a lot of baby-fying and coddling of the managers. Especially with those who have more 'sympathetic' stories (Misty, Chip, Winston specifically). Don't get me wrong, I like these characters and I can appreciate the story they're trying to tell, but I feel like so many people will hear their dialogue and then misplace their anger. People get mad at Bessie for trying to protect HER lighthouse or at the Elders for trying to keep YOTT safe (lets not forget Winston was there to brainwash toons). Yes, yes technically there would've been better ways to do it but consider this: The toons are scared. Their homes, stores, lives are being taken over by a big corporation that has more resources that they do. They don't have the privilege of waiting, seeing, and gathering. And then people forget that the company has such a huge role in both toons and cogs lives. If you're mad over the mistreatment of Misty or the fact that Winston is still in the dungeon, your anger should be directed at the company who doesn't care. I may be completely wrong in saying this, but I feel like the stories with almost all of the managers is a reflection of the company. The toons are only trying to protect themself and their environments and yet this seems to go forgotten when people start bashing them. And of course, I'd consider myself a toon guy so me saying all this and complaining may come off as "I HATE the cogs and everyone who posts only about them!" and for clarification that's not true. You all know how much I like that little brain thing. The cogs are interesting, their designs are fun, I don't blame people for liking them because I do too. I just wish that the thought process behind so many of these discussions wasn't so cog focused because I believe that this anger at the toons for, RIGHTFULLY, defending themselves helps push this mischaracterization of them as a whole. That they're mean, boring, unlikeable while the opposite is true. Yes there are some, what I'd consider, "filler" dialogue from the shopkeepers. This is just because of the gameplay. But there are some funny and cute moments with them if people would just listen and read.

Which also brings me into another point: people skip the dialogue. I've caught myself doing this before (on my first account. I have 4 accounts total, so I reread the dialogue on like 3 of them). But people will complain about lack of toon personalities while doing this. It's like reading through a comic book, only looking at the drawings, and then complaining because there "isn't a storyline". Luckily, there's been efforts to keep track of the dialogue on the wiki but I doubt a lot of people are going through and reading the entire script. It just feels very disingenuous to criticize the dialogue when you haven't even read it. Likewise, people don't seem to read the blogposts either. This is both from a dialogue aspect and from an update aspect (people continuously asking about hammerspace/mix-and-match under unrelated posts).

[musubiki]

an interesting point i remembered that i will tack on to that last post is that lime gets cocky post-timeskip. the m-34th trained him enough so that he can spar with her (as seriously as they can as friends) and win, and from what he sees from her power now/remembers seeing from her power before, he considers himself on-par with her.

so he can take mochi in a fight. and 98% of things mochi can take in a fight, he can too.

but at some point they encounter that 2% of things that lime cant do. and for the first time he gets to see the raw unhindered destructive power of the cat witch in her prime, and its that oh-too-familiar humbling feeling. to see the kind of shit shes capable of just makes the whole guild fall silent

and its STILL true that he can take her in a fight, which gives him comfort, but he realizes that the ONLY reason thats still true is because of the witch's oath of not taking life

[moe-broey]

Reinforcement....

Not only is it super flimsy, but it's vaguely sticky from boot glue. Unpleasant. We can Fix This

Just a basic stitch all around, until I get to the other side. Then, I attached the stitching to the little tab here (ladder stitch, kind of), since another thing is this strip feels like it could be torn off with enough force.... which........ for where the bracelet clasps. Not ideal! 😓 Tied it off on the tab, too.

Comparison!!!!! Not pictured: violently stabbing and slicing the eyelet. The material is sturdy enough/flexible that like, I think adding extra stitching there would be a net detriment (as well as a pain in the ass....)

Tools used! Not including the dart, but I can't recommend repurposing a dart enough for Stabbing Things. The blue pliers work as wire cutters, which also works on stubborn fabric. If you're having trouble getting a sewing needle through tough fabric, the other pliers are a life saver! Potentially a needle saver too....

Final results! The stitching is very subtle, BUT I think it adds So Much visually too.... I really like when you can tell someone has made an accessory by hand! Obvs there's plenty of handmade things that are super clean on a professional level quality (WHICH! VERY COOL!) but I also really like the amateurish quality!!! Adds a sort of roughness to it! 🫡😊