#cory's letter ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

[hancorys]

10:55 — date routine with taesan

genre: fluff, established relationship, just taesan being the sweetest !! pairing: bf!taesan x afab!reader wc: 704 warning: reader burnt her hands lol listen: bad — wave to earth

it was routine at this point. every time you and taesan had a date, you were always the first to start getting ready, and taesan, knowing how much time you took, would be the last to hop in the shower. it never bothered him. if anything, he found it endearing how much effort you put into looking your best, even though he constantly reminded you that you were beautiful just the way you were.

this morning was no different—or so he thought. after breakfast, you disappeared into the bathroom, and as usual, taesan waited for you to finish before taking his turn. by the time he stepped out of the shower, towel draped around his neck, he expected to see you standing in front of the mirror, putting the final touches on your curled hair.

instead, you were still seated at the vanity, one side of your hair straight while the other was only half curled. more importantly, you weren’t moving. your hands rested limply in your lap, and when taesan looked closer, he noticed the tears welling in your eyes.

his heart dropped.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, rushing over to you.

you didn’t answer immediately, your gaze flickering to your hand, where an angry red burn had already started forming along your fingers. taesan’s eyes widened in alarm.

“did you burn yourself?” he asked, crouching beside you, carefully taking your injured hand in his.

you let out a shaky breath. “yeah,” you muttered. “it’s not just a little burn either. it’s going to scar.”

taesan frowned, gently brushing his thumb over the unburned skin on your palm. “why didn’t you call me?”

“i thought i could handle it,” you admitted, glancing at the mirror with a defeated sigh. “but now i don’t even know what to do with my hair.”

taesan’s gaze followed yours, taking in the uneven curls. then, without hesitation, he straightened up and held out his hand. “give me the curling iron.”

you blinked at him. “what?”

“you heard me.” he reached for the curling iron, but you pulled it back instinctively.

“taesan, you don’t know how to use this.”

he scoffed, tilting his head. “you underestimate me.” then, gently, he placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you to face the mirror. “come on, let me do it.”

hesitant but intrigued, you handed him the curling iron. he took it confidently, wrapping a strand of your hair around the barrel with a precision that shocked you. he held it in place for the right amount of time before releasing it, letting the curl bounce into place.

your eyes widened. “wait… how do you know how to do this?”

taesan smirked, continuing his work as if he’d been styling hair for years. “i watch you do it all the time. guess i picked it up.”

“you… learned how to curl hair just from watching me?” you asked, laughing softly despite yourself.

“yeah,” he said, shrugging. “plus, i’ve seen enough k-dramas where the guy helps his girl get ready. i figured it couldn’t be that hard.”

he worked diligently, carefully curling each section of your hair, making sure to keep his fingers far from the hot iron so he wouldn’t end up burning himself too. the concentration on his face was almost adorable, his brows furrowed slightly, lips pursed in focus.

a few minutes later, he stepped back, admiring his work. “there,” he said proudly. “good as new.”

you turned your head side to side, examining the curls in the mirror. they were perfect. better than what you had done yourself.

“okay, i’m officially impressed,” you admitted, looking up at him.

taesan grinned. “i accept payment in the form of kisses.”

rolling your eyes, you reached up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. he turned his head at the last second, making you land on his lips instead.

“taesan!” you gasped, swatting at him.

he only laughed, leaning down to peck your forehead before grabbing your uninjured hand. “come on, let’s go before we’re late.”

you squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the curling iron burn. “thank you,” you murmured.

taesan gave you a soft smile, intertwining his fingers with yours. “always.”

© hancorys, 2025.

[hancorys]

5:06 — dance with me

genre: fLUFF, established relationship, leehan best boy !! pairing: bf!leehan x afab!reader wc: 793 warning: tooth rotting fluff, jk. none, js two love birds listen: dance with me — beabadoobee

the morning light barely filters through the curtains, but leehan is already awake. the soft rustle of his movements stirs the quiet of the room, but he’s careful not to wake you. you don’t notice the faint hum of the kettle boiling in the kitchen or the clink of a spoon against ceramic as he prepares your coffee. just the way you like it—no sugar, just enough milk to make it creamy. he’s memorized it, down to the precise shade of beige it turns when it’s perfect.

by the time the clock strikes six, he’s at your bedside, his voice soft and warm as he sings your name into the morning. “time to wake up, love,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. his voice, his presence—it’s the kind of comfort that makes waking up bearable, even on the hardest days.

you sit up groggily, and there he is, coffee in hand, a smile on his face that makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

leehan has a way of making the world feel less heavy.

—

on days when college assignments pile up, leaving you drained and irritable, he’s there. he doesn’t say much; he doesn’t need to. instead, he sits beside you, pulling your legs onto his lap, his hands warm and steady as they massage the tension from your calves. his touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s telling you with his hands what words cannot fully convey: i’m here. i love you.

he watches you with quiet admiration, the kind that makes your heart swell, and when your head droops onto his shoulder from exhaustion, he presses a kiss to your temple. “take a break,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

leehan knows you like no one else does.

he’s the kind of person who notices the little things—like how you always forget to bring a towel to the gym or how you need tissues when you get too sweaty on hot days. so, he carries an extra towel in his bag and a pack of tissues in his pocket, just for you. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it; he simply hands them to you when you need them, his eyes crinkling in that way they do when he smiles.

“see? i’ve got you covered,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh, grateful beyond words for his thoughtfulness.

—

sundays with leehan are your favorite.

the two of you fall into an easy rhythm—he takes care of the laundry while you hunch over your desk, finishing assignments. he hums softly to himself as he folds the clothes, glancing at you every so often to make sure you’re not overworking yourself.

when evening falls, you switch roles. he lays on the couch, his head resting in your lap, as your hands knead the tension from his shoulders. “you work too hard,” you tease, earning a chuckle from him.

“and you don’t?” he counters, looking up at you with those warm, brown eyes that make your heart skip a beat.

later, you curl up together, watching your favorite tv show, his arm draped over your shoulders. it’s simple, but it’s everything.

leehan has a knack for turning ordinary moments into magic.

like the time you decided to try a new recipe from a cookbook he’d bought for you on a whim. the kitchen was a disaster—flour dusted the counters, sauce splattered onto the stove, and yet, neither of you cared.

“dance with me,” he said suddenly, grabbing your hand as your favorite song played softly in the background.

you laughed, your cheeks warm, but you didn’t resist. he spun you around the kitchen, his hands steady on your waist as he guided you. the two of you moved clumsily, tripping over each other’s feet and laughing until your sides hurt.

in that moment, the mess didn’t matter. what mattered was the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world that made sense.

—

at night, when the world quiets down, leehan’s love shines the brightest.

you fall asleep in his arms, your breathing even and peaceful. he watches you for a moment, brushing his lips against your forehead.

“i love you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if the words are meant only for you and the night.

he kisses your temple, then your cheek, before finally settling in beside you. his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, and even in your sleep, you lean into him, as if you know he’s there.

leehan smiles, content, as the two of you drift into the kind of peace that only comes from knowing you’re truly, deeply loved.

© hancorys, 2025.