#like that was so surprising and i was not expecting it and idk

[tokkiwrites]

game show host!joel miller x contestant f! reader ▪︎summary: it's the late 1970s, and you're fresh out of college. for your graduation gift, your parents got you a special ticket to be part of your favorite game show, 'Love Jive'. They didn't know you didn't like the show itselfㅡ but it's smooth talking MC, Joel Miller. ▪︎tags: pwp, age gap (pretty hefty one), super flirty joel, shy/lovestruck reader, afab!reader, pet names galore!!, p in v (unprotected), mirror sex kind of, slight breeding kink, creampie, joel kind of has an innocence kink idk.

▪︎this has been sitting in my drafts for two months now. Hopefully, you enjoy this short and silly 2.45k words one. There is no plot for it honestly, just thought it would be a cute concept. maybe a series might come from it, who know? love ya!!

It was the summer of 1979, and the air felt heavy with possibility. You were fresh out of college, diploma in hand, and ready to take on the world—or at least that’s what you told yourself when your parents asked what came next.

Their graduation gift to you? A surprise ticket to Love Jive, the hottest game show on TV. You’d tried to hide your awkward smile when they handed it over, the envelope sparkling with glitter that matched the show’s logo. What they didn’t know was that it wasn’t the show’s ridiculous premise that had you tuning in every week.

It was him.

Joel Miller.

The man was a legend, smooth as honey and twice as sweet. The way his Texan drawl slid over those ridiculous love-related catchphrases? You swore it had ruined you for men your own age. He had to be at least twenty years older than you, but that salt-and-pepper hair, that sly smile, those broad shoulders stretching under his velvet blazer? They didn’t make men like Joel Miller anymore.

So here you were, standing nervously behind the curtain in the Love Jive studio.

“Contestants, ready?” a stagehand called.

Your stomach did a flip as the warm-up announcer's voice boomed through the speakers. The audience clapped and cheered, the excitement infectious. Before you could second-guess yourself, the curtain lifted, and the stage lights bathed you in gold.

And there he was.

Joel Miller stood center stage, microphone in hand, looking like he owned the room— and maybe he did. That million-watt smile lit up his face, his dark eyes sweeping the contestants before landing on you. He did a double take so subtle you almost missed it, but when his smile softened just a fraction, your heart skipped a beat.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” His voice rolled through the air like warm molasses, drawing chuckles from the crowd. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves some fine contestants tonight. Y’all ready to find love and maybe a little bit of fun?”

The audience erupted in cheers, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to join them. Not when Joel Miller was staring at you like you were the most interesting thing in the room.

“And what’s your name, darlin’?” Joel asked, pointing the microphone toward you.

You blinked, mouth suddenly dry. “Uh—uh, it’s—” You blurted out your name, voice cracking slightly. Joel chuckled, low and smooth, his dimples deepening as he grinned. “Well now, ain’t you just the sweetest thing. Y’all hear that? Even her name’s cute as a button.”

The crowd ooh’d and ahh’d, but Joel’s gaze stayed locked on you.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning ever so slightly closer, “what brings a lovely little thing like you to Love Jive? Lookin’ for romance? Or just here for the spectacle?” Heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you prayed the lights were too bright for anyone to notice. “Um, I—I guess you could say both?”

Joel’s eyebrows lifted, and his grin turned downright wicked. “Both, huh? Well, darlin’, I can promise you this much—you’re in for one hell of a show.” The crowd roared their approval as Joel winked at you, leaving your heart thundering in your chest. You’d come to Love Jive expecting to admire Joel Miller from afar. You hadn’t counted on becoming the center of his attention.

And as the game began, one thing became crystal clear: Joel wasn’t just hosting tonight. He was playing a game of his own— and you were the prize he had his sights set on.

Fast forward to the 15-minute commercial break.

The knock on the door came firmly, pulling you out of your flustered thoughts. You glanced at the mirror, smoothing down your blouse and trying to will away the redness on your cheeks. “Come in,” you called out, voice trembling slightly.

The door creaked open, and in stepped Joel Miller, the man of all your desires.

The sight of him so close took your breath away. He leaned casually against the doorframe for a moment, his dark eyes settling on you. His smile, warm and teasing, was the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. “Well, there you are,” he drawled, his voice like velvet. “Thought I’d come check on you, see how my favorite contestant’s holdin’ up.” You blinked, trying to find your voice. “Oh, uh—fine! I’m fine,” you stammered, your hands twisting nervously.

Joel stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The dressing room wasn’t large to begin with, and his presence filled it completely, making the space feel even smaller.

“Fine, huh?” he said, leaning against the vanity, his arms crossing casually over his chest. “Can’t blame you for bein’ a little flustered. All those lights, all those people… and me.” His grin turned teasing, his gaze dropping to your lips for the briefest moment. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. “It’s not—I mean, you’re not—”

“Sweetheart, relax,” Joel interrupted, his voice a low chuckle. “I’m just messin’ with you.” His eyes softened, and he tilted his head. “But if I’m bein’ honest, you’ve got somethin’ about you. That’s got me wonderin’ if maybe I’m the one a little flustered tonight.”

Your heart skipped at his words. “Me?” you asked, disbelief clear in your voice. Joel’s grin deepened, his dimples on full display. “Yeah, you,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. He stepped closer, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Pretty little thing like you walkin’ in here, lookin’ all sweet and innocent, got every man in the audience wishin’ he was sittin' in my shoes tonight.” You felt like your face might catch fire. “I don’t think that’s true,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel reached out, gently lifting your chin so you had no choice but to look at him. His hand was warm and firm, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “Well, I do,” he said softly, his dark eyes holding yours. “And I don’t say things I don’t mean, sweet girl."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “I was thinkin’... maybe once this show wraps up, you and I could get outta here. Go somewhere quiet. Just you and me.” Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you felt dizzy under his gaze. “You mean… like a date?”

Joel chuckled, the sound rich and deep. “Exactly like a date,” he murmured. “What do you say, sweetheart?” You nodded before you could overthink it, your shy smile breaking free. “I’d really like that.” Joel’s grin turned downright wicked. “Good,” he drawled, his hand sliding to cradle your cheek. “’Cause I’ve been dyin’ to do this all night.”

Before you could say another word, Joel leaned in and kissed you. His lips were warm and sure, moving against yours with a perfect mix of confidence and tenderness. You felt your hands instinctively grip the vanity behind you, your knees going weak as his other hand settled lightly on your waist.

The kiss lingered, soft and sweet, but with just enough heat to leave your head all dizzy. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Damn,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, “even better than I imagined.” You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you, shy and giddy all at once. “You imagined kissing me?”

Joel grinned, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Oh, I imagined far more than kissing you, darlin’. Hard not to when you look at me the way you do.” Your heart felt like it might burst, but before you could respond, a sharp knock sounded at the door. “Mr. Miller, we’re back in two!”

Joel sighed dramatically, giving you a wink as he stepped back. “Guess I better get back to work,” he said, his tone light but his eyes still lingering on you. “Don’t go runnin’ off after the show, y’hear? I’m not done with you yet.” You nodded, still too flustered to form a coherent sentence. With one last smirk, Joel turned and strolled out the door, leaving you breathless.

The show had ended in a blur of applause, flashing lights, and the announcer’s booming voice thanking everyone for watching. Contestants and crew mingled briefly as everyone prepared to leave. You’d just stepped to the side of the stage when one of the other contestants, a bubbly blonde in a bright orange jumpsuit, sidled up to you with a knowing smile.

“Well, well, well,” she teased, nudging you with her elbow. “Looks like you really got Mister Smooth swooning all over ya.”

You blinked, startled. “What? No, I don’t think—”

“Oh, honey,” she interrupted with a laugh, crossing her arms. “Everyone could see the way he was devouring you with his eyes. I swear, I was worried he might forget the rest of us were even there.” Your face went hot, and you shook your head quickly. “You’re imagining things.”

“Sure,” she said with a wink, already walking away. “If by ‘imagining things,’ you mean watching him look at you like you hung the moon. Enjoy it, sweetie. A man like Joel Miller doesn’t come around every day.”

Her words echoed in your head as you made your way back to your dressing room. Closing the door behind you, you exhaled deeply, desperate for a moment to collect yourself. The quiet was a relief after the chaos of the show. You slipped out of your stage outfit and into the dress you’d brought for afterward. A soft yellow dress with bell sleeves, a cinched waist, and a flowing A-line skirt covered in a delicate floral print. It felt like something out of a sunny dream, and you hoped it might give you a touch of the confidence you sorely lacked.

You were smoothing the fabric over your hips when the door opened without warning.

“Oh, wow.” The single word made you whirl around. There he was. Joel Miller, standing in the doorway. His tie was loosened, his shirt collar slightly unbuttoned, and his dark eyes were locked on you. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, the words leaving his lips like a breath. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you managed a shy smile. “Oh, it’s just… just a dress,” you murmured, brushing your hands nervously over the skirt.

Joel stepped inside, closing the door behind him as he approached. His gaze was unwavering, taking you in like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Just a dress, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But you could be wearin’ a paper bag, and you’d still be the most beautiful thing in the room.” You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Joel stopped in front of you, lifting a hand to gently cup your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin, his touch warm and steady.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, before closing the space between you.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. Where the earlier kiss had been soft and tentative, this one was sure, filled with hunger and intent. His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a passion that made your knees weak.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak— only feel. His touch, his warmth, the way he held you like you were something rare. “Been thinkin’ about doin’ that since the first time I saw you,” he admitted, his voice rough.

You let out a breathless laugh, your hands clutching the lapels of his jacket for balance. “You’ve kissed me twice tonight, Joel,” you teased, your voice trembling slightly. Joel grinned, his dimples making an appearance. “Yeah, I have a soft spot for sweet girl like yourself. ” he said before pausing shortly. “And if you’ll let me, darlin’, I’d be doin' a lot more than kissing you.”

Stopping him was the furthest thing from your mind.

"I'll let you.."

Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and submission. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. " You're a good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches. Without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large golden mirror above the counter. Joel groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the vanity, your hips snug in his grip. "God, you're so fuckin' gorgeous, angel."

you look down. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up your flowy dress, finally taking a look at your soaking panties, white with laced blue details. "Fuck, look at her." His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. In mere seconds, you hear the material rip and then feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor.

"What a pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his trousers. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge, to say the least. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the wet tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low in embarrassment. this doesn't last long, as his rough palm grabs at your face pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the lit up mirror and you see him shake his head. "No, baby. You watch while I wreck this pussy, understand?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly.

"Speak, sweetheart." you breathe out. "Yes, Joel." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough. truthfully you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, Joel starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thorns. every prick of discomfort is soon replaced by an unexpected surge of delight.

Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're alright..." he assures you, asking you to surrender.

"Take it all. Atta girl, just like that..." he praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. Joel moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements. His hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you.

Your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, little girl, look how tight she's suckin' me in." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each time. your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around him.

"Oh, god, please.." You manage. pulling at your hair, he starts chuckling. "Am I your god, baby? Ya like beggin'?" While thrusting relentlessly into you, jelly like legs barely holding you up anymore, your knees buckle. Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, this allowed you to take in a big gulp of air before you feel him deeper in your guts.

"want me to breed this young pussy, huh? feel you up with my babies? let people inside this roomㅡ let them film it for the whole world to see?" the room spins around you, vision blurry with tears and brain all fuzzy. you try your best to reply. "yes, oh, p-lease, please! "

"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, Joel!" you cry out, praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into your pulsing cunt. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. then he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. You looked perfect, like a carved our porcelain doll. With a few more snaps of his hips you feel he's close, his nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your velvet walls with white ropes of come. "God fuckin'ㅡ!" you know that will leave bruises.

the dressing room feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. Joel watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him like the most beautiful piece of art.

You're both quiet for a bit, before he breaks the silence. "You're still up for that date, little lady?"

[skteezcursed]

❝little bears and tiny stars❞ — c.jh (event).

PAIRING. choi jongho x afab!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers. kinda second chance. soulmate au. the boys playing cupid. alcohol consumption. the sfw parts are partially self indulgent. swearing. lots of mutual pining. idiots in love. jongho is an idiot (in the best of senses). mature talk (?). fluff. a bit of angst. soft sex. body worshiping. cunnilingus. unprotected sex (please don't!). pull out method. fingering. jongho is the sweetest (even too much). pet names (star for reader, bear for jongho). praises. pleasure dom! jongho. sub! reader. lots and lots of kisses. not proof read. (let me know if i forgot something).

SYNOPSIS. you were a sensitive topic, everyone knew. so when san brings your name to the table after years you and jongho drew apart, he knew something was up, he just didn't know how deep he'd dig himself once he spent time with you again. but then again, neither did you. maybe a second chance isn't just for a friendship like relationship.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 16k (sorry).

NOTES. english is not my first language. this is for the secret santa event for @cromernet and this is specially for my sweet dear friend @yourlocaljonghoe , surprise! another jongho fic just how you like it made for me to you (sorry it's a bit longer than expected). idk if you suspected when we talked, i hope no hehe but i do hope you like it, i love you and i'm sorry for the delay, bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

“Yah! Choi San, c’mon it’s the time for the Choi Brothers’ song to make us all cry and start this damn karaoke night!” Wooyoung said loudly as soon as San entered the booth with a puzzled look and smile on his lips. “Why you like that?”

“San-ah, c’mon I already selected IU’s ‘Dear Name’, what are you—” Yunho stops watching San with the same curious look that Wooyoung was giving him. “What happened?”

“Jongho-ah!” San calls for his little brother who quickly turns to look at him puzzled, making San smirk a little. “What’s that friend of yours name? The one you were basically joined to the hip until like middle school when they switched schools and you two lost contact?”

Jongho froze for a moment. “Which friend are you talking about?”

“Oh, they were cute! Where are they now?” 

Mingi chimes in trying to see where San was heading, but his eyes were focused on Jongho, the smirk still there noticing how his little brother tried to downplay the whole thing. The others quickly started to notice San had valuable information, and bringing you into the conversation was not without a reason. Seonghwa was quick to join in the teasing.

“Oh I remember them! They were so cute, and how they got all shy when we joined both of them was so adorable,” the boys started to chuckle, some more obvious than others, watching Jongho trying to act as if the subject of you didn’t affect him one bit. “Makes me wonder though, have you truly lost contact with them?”

“Weren’t they like… your ultimate crush but you were too much of a chicken to say something?”

“No, remember, he was set on the fact they had a crush on San, not him.”

Yunho said back to Wooyoung and the guys all laughed at Jongho’s eye roll. “It’s not like that, they—”

“So you finally admit they liked you and you were too much of a chicken?”

Hongjoong chimed in, Yeosang followed after him.

“Are you going to deny you had a crush on them or are you still in denial that they had a crush on you?”

“You people are the worst,” he said, shaking his head before looking back at San, considerably annoyed. “Why are you even bringing them up? It’s been ages and —”

“I think they are here and that they recognized me while I was paying for our time in the karaoke,” San said simply with a small smirk. “I think it doesn’t take a genius to know they’d probably recognize you. I mean… if you still want to be friends with them, of course…”

“They won’t remember me,” Jongho’s words were quick, stern but the boys knew the youngest well enough to know there was a hint of hope in his words. “And how are you sure they remember you? Just because (y/n) had a crush on you—”

“(y/n)!” The boys all celebrated as Jongho said your name before San turned back to Jongho with a knowing smile. “Also, just because you think they had a crush on me, doesn’t mean they did… but let’s play your game, shall we?” The boys chuckled as Jongho kept rolling his eyes as San observed his younger brother. “If, like you said, they remember me because you assume I was their crush… why wouldn’t they remember you who was their best friend for years? Care to explain that logic?”

The other six all observed the exchange with smirks and curious glances. 

“Are we gonna do karaoke or not?” 

“Oh, right, I forgot I asked for a few things, do you mind picking it up with me bro? It will make it easier and faster… unless… you are scared to meet with your lovely crush— I mean… friend, (y/n).”

Jongho rolled his eyes once more at San’s comment and the others snickering. He was terrified of seeing you again after all these years. Would you still remember him? Would you say hello to him? Would you hug him? Would you ignore him? Would you act like you acted with San and kinda show you know each other even if from a distance? Would you—

“He’s a chicken, he won’t do it.”

“Shut up, Mingi. Let’s go and end this, hm?” He headed to the door opening up and looking back at San with the door open who still had a smirk and raised eyebrows. The boys knew how to push Jongho’s buttons, but when it involved you, San was the expert at it. “What you asked?” 

“A few bottles of soju and some snacks… why?” The older Choi said as both brothers headed to the eating area to get everything. San chuckled as he noticed Jongho looking around curiously while trying to remain unseen. “What are you gonna do when they recognize you?”

“Hm?”

“(y/n)... What are you gonna do when they recognize you?”

Jongho scoffed trying to downplay the situation. “Why are you so sure they’ll recognize me? It’s been years, San, it’s not like—”

“Oh, San, hello again,” how long has it been since he heard your voice? It didn’t matter, because the second he heard your voice, he knew he had ever forgotten, nor had his heart, “Jon–Jongho?”

Jongho felt San elbow his side, as the younger Choi raised his head meeting your gaze. He had to hold his jaw tight so it wouldn’t meet the floor. You were just as gorgeous as you were previously, only… more. Your smile widened as you recognized him, you had recognized him, right? He wasn’t imagining things, you—

“I see you got my suggestion…” San’s words woke Jongho up, he felt a stir in his stomach at his brother’s smile towards you, which you nodded with a shy smile of your own, one Jongho had seen many times when San was around. Did you still have a crush on San? “But that’s too little, where are your friends?”

“Oh, they had to leave, we had already used our paid time, and another group had booked the booth so yeah… and I was still hungry, so I decided to come and pick a few things before I leave and—”

“You are leaving?” Jongho said quickly, almost desperately. You looked at him confused and a bit surprised, while San held back a smile and a laugh at his younger brother’s reaction. “I—I mean, we—”

“Why don’t you come with us to our booth? We wouldn’t mind reconnecting with an old friend, if you have nothing better to do, that is.”

You pondered for a moment looking between San and Jongho who was trying to keep his cool after seeing you after all these years. 

“You sure it’s okay if I join in?”

“Yeah, we are still the same group as before, you remember the guys right?” San commented with a small smile, noticing how you noticed Jongho’s nervous behavior. “Look, everyone will be happy to have you around, like the old days when you’d always visit our house and we would all hang out, right?”

It was true, at least in a way. But it had been years now, and Jongho didn’t seem much of a fan of the thought. “Jongho… you okay with that?”

His mind went haywire. 

He never thought he’d hear you call his name ever again.

But here you were, looking at him with your worried eyes and all the feelings he thought he had long forgotten had returned full force.

“Wh-why would you think I’m not okay with that?”

San looked between the two of you with an amused smirk, watching what you would answer back. “Maybe because you are dead quiet and not even meeting my eyes?”

San’s chuckle — which he quickly disguised as a cough — woke Jongho up, at least in a way.

“I— Sorry, it’s just… I’m still processing seeing you after all these years. I didn’t mean to come off as rude or anything of sorts, it's just… It’s been a while…”

“I know, I told San the same thing when we met a few minutes back,” you saw Jongho look at San with a death stare making you chuckle a little noticing San planned this out. “I see… well, if the others don’t mind me joining in, I don’t mind it either so—”

“Good, Jongho will show you back to the booth while I take a few of the drinks and snacks and the employee helps me bring the rest.”

The look on Jongho’s eyes was confirmation that San had planned this all out. You didn’t truly believe San when he said they were all there, that he remembered you, or that Jongho was there and would be happy to see you. San was still the same guy as before, making ways for you and Jongho to always be close to each other, and you were positive that San realized you still harbored feelings for his younger brother from the small look he send your way as Jongho lead you back to the booth that the other six were too. 

As soon as you entered, the booth exploded with voices, each of the boys coming to you and hugging you. Jongho was quick to take your food and drink away so you could hug the other six guys as he took a seat in the corner observing everything while trying to calm his racing heart. You were even more beautiful than before, how was that even possible?

Your childhood features were almost gone, but you still held that same aura you always had. Kind, loving, sweet. Your smile was still the same, your eyes squinting as you laughed at something the boys had said, the way you hugged each and everyone, the way you looked at everyone as if they were the only people in the room, but it was when your eyes met his and you gave him his smile, the smiled that was reserved only to him, was when he realized he was fucked. Royally fucked. 

He had never gotten over you.

He had never forgotten you.

And here you were again, making his heart race at your mere presence.

As soon as the door opened and San entered with one of the employees, your shy demeanor came back and Jongho’s heart almost broke. It was the same reaction you always had around San. Did your crush on his older brother remain? You acted normal with the others, and yet with San… You acted all shy and cute…

Jongho knew San always got the most attention, the most girls, the best grades, he was just that good. But you always saw Jongho, he was never in San’s shadow… Until middle school, when you started to change around San, when his brother started to give you more attention. Of course he would, you had changed, you were getting prettier, you were catching people’s attention, of course his brother would see you.

He was never afraid of losing you to San, not until that time. 

It didn’t matter if San or the others said you didn’t see any of them like that. 

Jongho knew you thought they were handsome, he heard you deny other girls trying to get to San through you, why would you deny that if you weren’t interested in his brother? 

“You still have the same face and ticks when you are thinking you know?” Your voice brought Jongho back to the reality of the situation. They weren’t in middle school anymore, they were all in university, in a karaoke booth celebrating the end of midterms. His eyes met your soft smile as you took a seat beside him. “I told San not to do any of this, but… You know your brother he—”

“Will do whatever he wants—”

“Thinks it’s right,” you cut Jongho after he cutted you. You knew the Choi brothers had a good relationship, but you also knew Jongho hated being in San's shadow and hated how San was good at everything on a first try, how he could get away with pretty much everything. “Guess he’s not right about everything, then…”

The way your voice broke was the same sound of Jongho’s heart breaking. As you started to get up, he held your wrist, firmly but gently. “Sorry, I just… It’s been so long and… I hate how he—”

“Cornered you, I know,” you chuckle softly sitting back beside Jongho, smiling even more as you finally see a smile from him towards you. “I told him not to do it, but he also said you wouldn’t come out and talk to me on your own, but that you’d be happy to see me… So far only one of the things is not adding up…”

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, it’s just…”

“It’s been too long, yes. And we both changed and maybe we did end things a bit rushed and lost contact when I had to move to live with my father after my parents divorced, but now I’m here, I’m back in the same city as you, a lot changed, I changed, you changed… but… when I realized we were in the same city, that you two were here and going to same university I was… I kinda wished to reconnect with you again. You were my best friend, bear.”

“Hey, don’t do that! That’s a low blow and you know it!” He chuckled as you shrugged with a smirk on your lips, making his heart melt a little. You were right, everything was different and maybe he was looking too much into things, maybe his inner child was stopping him from doing everything, scared of losing you again in more ways than one. “I’m sorry, okay? Can we start again?”

“Can you get up and give me a hug?”

Without a second thought he got up from his seat, you followed quickly behind and hugged him by the neck while his arms went around your waist pulling you flushed against him as he hid his face on the crook of your neck. God he missed this. It was like his heart was mending in a way he never thought it had been broken, just by being like this with you. 

“I missed you, my little star.”

He whispered back into your ear, making you smile and kiss his temple tenderly, “I missed you, my baby bear.”

The other seven were ‘secretly’ observing everything, while opening the snacks and drinks. San had a knowing smile on his lips as he observed your and Jongho’s interaction. He knew you two liked each other, he had found out you liked his little brother while surprising you one day, catching you writing yours and Jongho’s initials on a piece of paper, he was the only one that knew your secret. While with Jongho, he caught a song lyric his baby brother had written that had the nickname he used only with you, your name written down in a corner with a small heart and a date. 

San had always tried to make you two end up together, he knew you two belong together. Like two peas in a pod. He just had to make sure the two of you realized that.

“Why are girls so hard to figure out?” San whined as he, Jongho and Yeosang were walking in the music building.

“Are you saying that… you are having girl problems?” Yeosang laughed as he saw San roll his eyes, Jongho chimed in shaking his head. “What? She’s not giving you the attention you want?”

“She’s not fawning over you as if you were a Greek God like most girls?”

“Shut up you two!” Both boys were pushed by San, but he kept a small smile on his lips. As his eyes focused on Jongho once more, an idea formed in his mind. All the boys knew that you and Jongho had gotten considerably close, almost as close as you were when you two were younger, but there was still a barrier, that they were certain it was mostly on Jongho’s side. “You should help your brother, why don’t you ask (y/n) about it? How to catch a girl’s attention? I tried everything… I sent flowers, I sent her chocolate, I got a few things I heard she liked, and she keeps dismissing me and just thanking me and not properly talking to me…”

“Why you think (y/n) will know? Are they friends or something?”

“It would definitely help if they are… maybe you can even go on double dates,” Yeosang laughed as San looked amused by the idea while Jongho seemed to dread it. “That’s something I’d pay to see, it would be fun.”

“Say for yourself…”

“Yah! You should help your brother, not make my life difficult…”

“Because you help make my life easier?”

San nodded as if offended that Jongho would think like that. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past few weeks?” Yeosang kept quiet observing, he and the others promised San not to tell Jongho he was secretly trying to get his baby brother and you to see you belong together, and yet apparently nothing was working, specially on Jongho’s end. He would always make excuses. “You know… You should put yourself out there, I’m getting tired of your grumpy ass, I thought once you get close with (y/n) once more you’d be more yourself… Why you holding back so much?”

“San is right you know?” Yeosang chimed in as both saw Jongho rolling his eyes ready to protest San’s statement. “You two were best friends, but you barely talk to her, only when you two bump with each other, you make excuses not to see them, but when you two are together you are the happiest… What’s up with that?”

“I’m not avoiding them…”

“Keep lying to yourself,” San said, a bit annoyed that Jongho kept denying. “Crap, I have to go, promised Yunho I’d go by the choreography with him, see you guys later and Jongho… Get it together man, you missed them a lot, you finally have them back, don’t push them away from being a dick.”

“Yah! I’m not—” he didn’t have time to protest as San ran towards the dancing building, “not being a dick…”

“Yeah you are…,” Yeosang said plain and simple, making Jongho curse and look at the older friend annoyed. “Are you scared you’ll fall for them all over again?”

“...Maybe,” begrudgingly Jongho admitted, looking down to his feet as the two of them kept walking. Yeosang was his closest friend from the friend group, he could trust him, right? “They are just… It’s like nothing changed but so much has changed! And they got even prettier, it’s like torture to my heart whenever I’m with them. And then you and the others chime in and they become this shy thing that’s so adorable but also… Why are they becoming shy? You really want me to believe they don’t have a crush on any of you?”

“They don’t.” Yeosang said firmly, with such certainty that made Jongho stop and look at him a bit taken aback. “They don’t like us like that. They like us as friends, they get shy because we are not that close, because they don’t want to intrude, because they say we are your friends.”

“But with San—”

“San is a tease,” once again Yeosang cut Jongho, “he is a tease and he know how to push (y/n)’s buttons, but he just wants them to get comfortable, and for the two of you to stop being so stiffen with each other… He’s the one that knows them best after you, but they don’t like San, they never did. It doesn’t matter what you think or want to believe, they don’t like San, they never did…”

“So why do they always cut girls that come to them to get with San?”

“Wouldn’t you stop people wanting to get friendly with you to get with a friend?” Jongho thought for a second. “(y/n) is a shy and private person, they always were, they have few and close friends, and they know how San and you get annoyed by all the girls trying to get his attention, they value yours and his friendship more than anything… I know that because I saw them doing it and asked about it a few days back.”

“Okay, but—” Jongho is stopped by a ping on his phone, which he quickly picks up with a text from you. “They… texted me…”

“What do they want?”

you: hey, jjong! you on campus? if yes, which building?

jjong 🐻: yeah, i’m on campus. music building, why?

you: oh, you in class? sorry, forget it! 

jjong 🐻: no no no! you good! jjong 🐻: what do you need? i’m not in class.

you: it’s nothing important, i just forgot my water bottle in class. you: i can go search for it after i’m done at the library, i don’t wanna bother you.

“Go get their water bottle.”

“What? Why–”

“Jongho, they texted you to get a water bottle… that means they want you to get that bottle and bring it to them. Get. The. Water. Bottle.” Yeosang said quickly. “Stop overthinking, be you around them. They keep apologizing for disturbing you because you are avoiding them whenever you can. They are your best friend, get it together!”

“It’s not that simple, Yeo—”

“Because you still like them.” Jongho kept quiet, not denying it, but not confirming. “Do you want to lose them again?”

“The fuck? Of course not! I just got them back!”

“Then start acting like you actually want to be around them, because as of now you are losing them all over again, and this time will be totally your fault. Tell them you’ll get the water bottle and will bring it to the library, and start acting like their best friend. Things changed, yes, but they haven’t! Me and the guys have seen you two together, it’s like a damn time travel tunnel. So stop overthinking or you’ll lose them.”

Yeosang kept looking sternly to Jongho who sighed knowing his best friend was right.

“Sometimes I hate you.”

“Only when you know I’m right.”

Both laughed as Jongho typed back to you:

jjong 🐻: which room is it? is it that galaxy water bottle you’ve been obsessed with?

you: hey! don’t call me out for being obsessed about something! you: … but yes, it’s that one. you: class is 157 in block C of the Lit building, thank you, bear! 🤎

jjong 🐻: be there in a bit.  jjong 🐻: you at the library right? the one in the Lit building?

you: yeah, you’ll see me at the tables, i have this paper due to the end of the week.

jjong 🐻: got it, don’t worry, i’ll get your bottle. see you in a bit star 💛

A small smile formed on your lips as Jongho said he’d pick the water bottle and bring it back to you at the library, your heart racing momentarily at the thought of seeing him once more. The knowing smile on San’s lips and the other boys whenever you and Jongho were together kept popping in your mind, were you being obvious? San was the only one that knew about your crush, but now apparently all the other six knew it too… except Jongho. You didn’t know if you were grateful for it or not.

In all honesty, you thought he did considering how weird he’d act on occasion with you, even if he agreed to reconnect and being friends again, sometimes you thought he was avoiding you, so when he agreed to pick your water bottle you were more than happy, that meant he wasn’t fully avoiding you, right? The phone was put face down at the table as you shook your head trying to focus on the things you needed for your paper — that was pretty much done, luckily. 

“Hey, star,” Jongho’s voice woke you up after a while, your water bottle on his hands as a small smile appeared on his lips as he placed the bottle at the table. “Guess this belongs to you.”

"Oh, hey Jjong," You smiled softly at him, your eyes falling on your water bottle before going back to his face as you tried to keep your heart rate balanced. "Thank you for picking the bottle, I'm sorry if I troubled you, and I do owe you, you saved my day tomorrow from having to stay on the Lost & Found hoping to find it"

Jongho’s heart fluttered as he saw your smile. You were so effortlessly beautiful it was painful. Warmth spread across his chest as you thanked him, apologizing for disturbing him, making him realize Yeosang was probably right… He was being an ass and you were probably weary around him. He decided to push his worries away and act like himself around you regardless. He preferred having you smiling at him, close to him, allowing him to smell your perfume, to touch your skin, even if platonically then to lose you again. 

He never wanted to lose you.

Never again.

“No need to apologize, it was no trouble at all. I was in the Music building for a project, and the building is not that far away from the Lit one, and I could use a bit of cardio you know?” Both chuckled and he felt his chest flutter at the sound of your sweet laugh. He looked around noticing you were alone at the table as you stretched your hand to get the bottle. He pointed down to your notes, eyeing both notes and books spread around the table. “Are you… studying alone?”

You nodded, picking your water bottle. “Ah, yeah… My study partner had an emergency call in another project and bolted,” you chuckled softly before looking at your water bottle with a small pout. “Oh… maybe I should fill this up, forgot it’s pretty much empty…”

Jongho chuckled at your words glancing down at the water bottle, his gaze softening as he noticed your pout as he extended his hand grabbing the bottle back. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill it up for you.”

“You sure you don’t mind? You already had the trouble to bring it to me here… I don’t want to abuse your good will or anything,” you said genuinely worried although there was a hint of joke in your words. 

His heart skipped a bit, amused by your concern. You have always been sweet and considerate, worried about what everyone thought, wanting everyone to be comfortable, even if at your expense, which was something he noticed that never changed even after all these years. He waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head and grabbing the bottle back. “It’s not abuse, I don’t mind doing it at all. I’ll be right back.”

Jongho got to the water fountain quickly, filling the water bottle and watching the water fill it in a smooth stream. As he waited for it to fill, his mind was buzzing with thoughts. He was alone with you. You were studying alone, and he had an almost perfect opportunity to spend some more time with you. He had an almost perfect opportunity to just talk and spend time with you, like he’d been missing for such a long time. Finally, the water bottle filled, and he began to head back over to you, a little nervous but eager nonetheless.

Soon, he made it back to the table, bottle in hand, and sat down in the empty chair beside you, setting the refilled water bottle in front of you. “There you go, all refilled and good to go,” he said with a smile, hoping that you wouldn’t mind how he sat in the empty seat. A soft smile on his lips as he watched you, his eyes lingering on your lips for a moment.

"Thanks Jjong, guess you still are the gentleman I knew you were," you jokingly teased him, taking a sip of the water before reorganizing a few things to give him more space to stay there.

A small chuckle left his lips at your words, finding it slightly endearing that you’d joked with him. He smiled as you moved a few things around so that he had more room. It was almost like an invitation for him to stay longer, and he was certainly not going to turn it down. His smile grew wider at the thought that maybe you wanted him to stick around as much as he did. You were never to voice your wishes, it was always subtle, like moving your things to make space for someone.

A small streak of confidence hit him, pushing a bit of the overthinking away. His back hitting the back rest of the chair as he kept observing you going over the texts and notes. “So… what are you studying? Can I stay here and make you company or will I distract you?”

Distract, for sure, you said in your mind, as you turned smiling softly at Jongho, deciding to play it off. “Why? You planning on distracting me?”

Jongho felt a bit shy, but laughed it off shaking his head a little. “Okay, fair… But why you studying here? You liked studying in your room…”

“True, but… I’m living in the dorms, and it’s always so loud there, you know me and noises don’t go well together, so here is the second best place,” you shrugged looking back at the books’ spine to pick the information you needed to put on the bibliography of your paper. 

A small nod was given by Jongho, he knew you were easily distracted and annoyed by constant noises, he could barely hold a small nostalgic smile as his mind reminded him of all the times you two studied together during school. You were so distracted by your assignment that you barely noticed him leaning his chin on his hand as he observed you. Barely, being the key word, as you turned your head to the side trying to hide your tinted pink cheeks from his intense gaze. 

A small thought reaching Jongho’s mind at that memory, making him lazily pick a pen and twist it on his fingers, trying to act casual. “Don’t you get lonely studying alone? I remember you always liked to study together… Maybe we can pick up on that once more… If you want, of course.”

Your head tilted back to look at Jongho with a small smirk. “Are you offering to have your place as my study partner back, Choi Jongho?”

A light blush crept on Jongho’s face as you looked back at him with a small smirk. He chuckled lightly, heart racing as he kept the pen twirling on his fingers, even if it faltered a little, falling back at the table making him sheepishly scratch the back of his head and pretended it wasn’t him, when a lot of people looked over to see from where the sound came from. A muffled chuckle coming out from you, making him even more shy as he pondered how to best answer you.

“I mean… If you want me, I’d be happy to keep you company… you know… like we used to do in school…”

“And where would that happen? I’ve never seen you in the library before…”

He tilted his head a little. “That’s because I prefer my room, or the music room, for acoustics and all, you know.”

“Are you staying in a dorm too, or are you sharing a house with San and the others?” 

“Oh, no, we are all at the dorms, it’s easier, a house would be too expensive…” he scratched the back of his head once more pondering a question. “So… which dorm are you in?”

“Halazia dorm, you?”

His eyes widened, you were in the Halazia dorm? “Same, I-I mean… Halazia dorm,” he chuckled as your eyes also widened along with your mouth opening, surprised. “Ah… which floor are you on?”

“Seventh, you?”

“Which room?”

“1027…”

“1035,” he said quickly, smiling at you, realizing not only you two were in the same dorm, the same floor, but your doors were across each other. “Yeosang, San and Mingi are on this floor as well… If you ever hear any of the parties, it is definitely Mingi’s room, likely.”

You laughed at the thought, feeling nervous that you were living across from each other but never actually seen each other after all the time you’ve been in uni. “Well… that explains the amount of ‘walks of shame’ I see on that floor on a daily basis. Should I expect someone doing the ‘walk of shame’ from your bedroom too?”

“Why? Will you patronize me if it ever happens?”

You pretended to ponder for a bit, trying to hide the small pang on your chest at his words. Jongho was single, good looking, smart, with the voice of an angel, polite, respectful, a gentleman… Of course he’d have girls after him and bring some to his room, you couldn’t be mad at him for it. Even if your heart broke at the thought and image in your mind. “Why would I? You are an adult, single, good looking, you can have sex with whoever you want…”

“I mean… true, but I thought… I don’t know…” He turned sheepish as a thought came to his mind. “Should I wait for someone doing the ‘walk of shame’ out of your room?”

Your eyes widened a little, blush creeping on your cheeks as you avoided Jongho’s stare. 

“I… don’t really mess around, I prefer a serious thing over one night stand, so… not on my end.”

“Good,” he said before he could hold back, making you blush even more, a small smile appearing on his lips as he noticed the reaction he had on you. “I mean… Good because you know what you want, you know? And… I’m like that too, one night stands aren’t really my thing, I prefer a connection, someone I can be comfortable with, that will see me for me and stick around, you know?”

Your eyes met his, a secret shared between both stares but apparently the message could never reach each other. Even if both could see the care and longing in the other's eyes, the main sentiment was lost in the middle. Your stomach bursted with butterflies from the way Jongho was looking at you, while his confidence grew a little as he saw his words affected you. Maybe, just maybe… you saw him as more? Should he take a leap of faith?

“I��I should put these books back, it’s getting late…,” you said, picking your phone to check the time, seeing it was already early at night. Ignoring Jongho’s eyes while trying to calm your heart rate, you got up fixing the books.

Jongho noticed your reaction, biting his lip for a moment, disappointed for losing the eye contact he had with you. As he watched you rushly pick up the books, an idea popped in his head, making him quickly stand up beside you, stepping closer, his chest almost touching your shoulder. 

“Hey let me help you, it will be faster if I help you…,” swiftly, he took the books from the table, taking it in his arms, your hands brushing slightly against each other momentarily making a shiver run down his spine, his body still inches from yours as he glanced down at the books in his arms. “So… where are these supposed to go?”

“So… these are on those three shelves beside each other, c’mon,” you quickly motioned him to follow you, being careful so he wouldn't trip or hit his shoulder on the shelves. In swift motions you quickly placed all the books, leaving only two behind as you picked them and headed to a far end shelf. “These ones are around here…” 

Jongho was always close behind you, observing and caring for every edge of the shelf that you could possibly get hurt accidentally. As the last shelf came into place, you quickly tiptoed to place one book on an upper shelf, almost losing your balance. “Here, let me.”

Your skin burned under your shirt as you felt Jongho's hand on your back, before he took the book from your hand to place it at the spot you were trying to put, but his hand never left your body, moving from your back to your waist. Your head felt heavy and light at the same time, you could feel his perfume filling your lungs, you could feel his firm but gentle hand against your skin — even through the clothes.

As he looked back at you, you came back to your reality trying to find the spot for the last book on your hand, as you moved a little to place in a lower shelf, ignoring how the fact of Jongho's hand keep lingering on your body made you feel like you were on fire. “Okay, this is the last one, we should—,” you lost your balance as you turned quickly to head back to the tables, Jongho’s hands quickly going to your waits steadying you, your hand moved to his bicep, squeezing it lightly as you felt his hands squeezing your waist back. You two were close, closer than ever in a long time. “We— ah… We should go back to the dorms, it's getting late."

Cold, that's all you felt as you pushed yourself away from Jongho heading back to the table to get your things. As he saw you moving back to the table, he woke up from his epiphany, close behind you. “Yeah, you’re right it is getting late… we should head back…” He followed you close by, watching as you walked back to the table to gather your things and not forgetting the water bottle this time around, heading to open the door for you to exit the library, as he calmed his racing heart. 

“Jongho being a gentleman? What happened? Did the talk do something to you?” You joked walking past him with a light chuckle, watching as he closed the door, walking beside you bumping you with his shoulder with a smirk on his lips.

“Hey, I’m always a gentleman with you! Always been and always will be.”

“True… Your father always made sure you and San were raised to be gentlemen… Guess all the scolding paid off, since you two have girls fawning over the both of you all over university,” you tried your best to act nonchalant as you two kept walking, your eyes focused on the ground as a memory popped up in your mind, making you smile. “Remember what your father used to say: men are supposed to be warriors for the women who are their princesses." You smiled fondly. "Your house was the only place I felt like a princess, and beside you as well when we were younger…"

At your words, memories quickly flooded his own mind, of you being in his house, always pampered and protected by his parents, and even San when it was just the three of you playing in the house. His eyes darted to you with fondness as you remembered the times you went to his house, the soft smile on your lips, the nostalgic look in your eyes. He wanted to hug you so badly right now, he wished he had cherished that first hug you two have after seeing each other. His head hangs low with a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I remember dad saying that a lot… and I guess it kinda stuck with me, especially the princess part,” he admitted, taking a few steps closer to you before speaking once more. “You were always a princess in my eyes though… and I still think you are… forever my little princess, my little star.” For a moment your mind went blank. Did he really just tell you that? In that tone? Did he not have an idea of how much that affected you? Of course he didn't, you never told him and you threatened San if he ever told Jongho you liked him. A small smirk appeared on Jongho’s lips as he saw your bashful expression. His voice dropped an octave as he leaned closer to you, in a slight teasing way. “You know, you may not believe me when I say you are my forever princess, but I can tell you are getting flustered…”

“Shut up,” you pushed him away from you, but barely had an effect, but Jongho amused you still, going a bit away from you. “It’s not that I don't believe you, I'm just not used to compliments, you know that.”

“Okay, right, sorry,” he apologized quickly, deciding to take a risk and take your hand in his, halting your movements, making you eye him curiously. A simple smile was all he gave you before getting closer to you. Both doing their best to ignore the tension between you two, the electric charge that ran through your bodies, how right it felt to have your hands intertwined again. “Can I have a hug?” 

Your gaze softened as your heart tightened in your chest. If you thought too much you knew you'd find thousands of reasons not to do it. But it was your Jongho, your Jjong, your baby bear… And you couldn't say no to him, not when he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in this world. Without much thought you hugged him close, your arms around his shoulders, your lips on his shoulder as you cherished the feeling of Jongho's body against yours.

On the other hand, Jongho took a while to react, not really expecting you to hug him, but as soon as you pressed him against you, it was like muscle memory… His body relaxing in your embrace, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close to him as he buried his face against the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. Your shampoo was different, the perfume was too, but your real scent was still there, faintly mixed with the others, but his mind captured quickly. 

“I forgot how good your hugs feel…” 

“They are still yours to have,” you spoke softly against his shoulder, almost like a secret, feeling his arms tightening around your waist.

“I missed having them… I missed having you.” Jongho held you even tighter, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of your body against his, of having you in his arms after all these years, it was like time stopped for a moment, as if nothing had changed, all those years didn't pass by. If he tried really hard, he could probably hear your heart beat. “Have I… have I changed too much?”

“In what sense?” You pondered quietly while still hugging him. “Everyone changes Jjong, it is part of maturing… but if you are asking if I still see you as Jongho from when we were kids… I do still see him, even if masked by this man you've become.”

Jongho smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him as he heard you say that you could still the old him, it meant a lot, considering how much he was pushing you away until now, until he realized he needed you close, he needed you as a best friend, he wanted you forever with him.

“I don't know… I think I was scared you think I did, considering how I've been acting, and the guys keep saying I changed through the years… I just wanted you to still like me? It's stupid I know—”

“It's not,” you cut him off, “it's not stupid, and yeah you've changed, everyone does, it's what's expected at least,” you chuckled once more cupping his face, caressing his cheeks softly. “It's not because you changed that I'll see you differently, I can see my little bear still there.” 

A smile formed on his lips, touched by your words. He knew he changed, and he was scared you wouldn't like him, the much he changed. He had grown more mature — if that was even possible —, he only let his playful side show with the people he trusted, his body changed too, he could now protect you, not that he couldn't before, but now he could do it properly. 

“I think you are one of the few people who know me for real, you know? How I can be shy and introverted, but still playful and—”

“Witty? Sarcastic? Annoying?”

“Hey!, don't pretend you don't like it when I annoy you.”

“Never said I didn't like it, I was just listing your traits, bear,” you laughed walking a bit away from him, but still holding his hand in yours. “Guess that's the childhood friend perk, right?”

Jongho chucked, nodding in agreement, squeezing your hand as he let you guide him through the streets. “Yeah… best friends from childhood perk.”

His gaze kept fixated on you, a mix of affection and contemplation as you kept walking until you saw a convenience store, reminding yourself you should get yourself a few things to eat. “Oh! Jjong, do you mind if we stop? I'm kinda hungry and also needing to buy a few things, it's gonna be quick I promise, but you can go back to the dorms too it's —”

“It's fine, we can buy something to eat, I could use a snack too, lead the way.” 

You smiled at his reassuring one as you headed to the store, letting go of his hand to push the door open and grab a basket to pick a few things. Jongho followed you close behind into the store, staying close by your side as you looked for a quick snack to grab. As you browse the store's food options, Jongho's gaze notices a few guys stealing glances at you, their eyes lingering on you for a bit too long, obviously checking you out. A hint of irritation builds on his stomach as he moves to cover you from their view, that you appear to have never even noticed.

But you did, you were used to it, you were a woman in a man's world, of course you’d be aware of your surroundings and of any guy or group of guys close by, you learned it was best to ignore them, so it came a little as a surprise when you notice Jongho gingerly move to your side, covering you from the view of that group, making your heart flutter a little, but unsure if he was aware or if you should address it, afraid you were looking too much into something that was not it. 

Jongho kept following you through the snack section, his eyes still flickering around the store, observing the guys that were checking you out. He could tell that you hadn't noticed the looks they were giving you, or were you purposefully ignoring them? Either way, he didn't like the way those guys were looking at you. It made him feel protective, and it stirred a possessiveness within him, the mere thought that those guys could approach you for any reason didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t tell you that, you just now became close again, he had no right to say anything… right? 

He stayed close to you, positioning himself slightly behind you, as if subtly shielding you from their gazes. As you continued to look for your snacks, Jongho kept an eye on the guys from afar. He could feel his annoyance growing as he watched them stare at you, their gazes almost undressing you with their eyes. He wanted to confront them, to tell them to back off and stop looking at you like that, but he held back, knowing that it wouldn't be a good idea to cause a scene here, and he knew you hated confrontation.

Instead, he took a small step closer to you, his body almost brushing against yours, as if he was subconsciously trying to claim you, to let those guys know that you were off limits, making you look at him curiously. A frown appeared on your face as you noticed his clenched jaw, how close he seemed, but still keeping a respectful distance, how he was mostly shielding you than anything else, the way he was alert to every little thing that wasn’t you. “You okay?”

Jongho quickly snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that you had noticed his closeness and his tense demeanor. He quickly relaxed his expression, forcing himself to act casually as he looked at you. "Yeah, I'm fine."

“You are lying,” you said simply observing him for a moment before grabbing a few more snacks. “Is it because of those guys?”

“Wait, you noticed them?” A simple nod was all you answered. “They have been staring at you since we entered the store, but you… kept acting normally and even came to this section… When did you notice them? Don’t their stares make you uncomfortable?”

“I noticed them when i entered this section, but I was already here, it would probably be suspicious if I moved afterwards. Plus, if I don’t acknowledge them, it’s pretty nill the chance they approach, and I’m with you…They probably think you are my boyfriend or something…”

You tried your best to act nonchalant, but you couldn’t help but wanting to see or hear Jongho’s reaction to you saying they thought he’d be your boyfriend. Would he freak out? Would he act the part? Would he keep acting naturally? Would he make sure he was just a friend? Would he try to play it off as a protective brother?

Jongho felt a pang of protectiveness hearing your nonchalant response. He didn't like the thought of you being used to men ogling you and being harassed. He wanted to tell you that you didn't have to just let it happen, that they should respect you more. In a streak of courage and wanting to comfort you somehow, he took the basket with one of his hands, as the other moved to hold the one that was previously holding the basket, looking at you tenderly. "I just… I don't like seeing them look at you like that. It… it makes me feel like I need to do something…"

"Like what? Fight them? It's pointless and will probably get you in trouble… and me saying something it's useless, men like that only respect other men…,” our words were quiet as you didn’t trust your own voice as you felt Jongho’s hand on yours, deciding to focus on getting the rest of the things you wanted, realizing he had no intend on letting go of your hand.

Not that you were complaining. 

But he knew you were right. Picking a fight with those guys would only cause unnecessary trouble, and he knew that saying something wouldn't make a difference. He just hated the feeling of helplessness, knowing that you had to put up with that kind of behavior. "So what, we just do nothing? We just ignore them staring at you like you're some piece of meat?"

You wanted to laugh, but you simply smiled at him. Your heart is warm and fuzzy in your chest as you hear his words. "You already did," you commented with a small smile looking at him, chuckling when he looked at you confused. "First, you moved to cover me from their gaze, you already did something… and secondly… you are holding my hand, I’m pretty sure no one would be stupid to try anything.” You smiled at him shyly before looking away once more picking a few more random chocolates, just because. 

"Oh... you noticed that, huh?" He chuckled nervously. "I didn't even realize I did it. I guess my protective instincts just kicked in automatically," he observed you once more, how you focused on things you wanted, how you kept holding his hand even after you basically called him out from doing so. That meant you didn’t mind it, right? “Are you… okay with me doing those things?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You are my best friend… If I can’t hold your hand from time to time to feel safe, what’s the point?” Jongho was silent for a moment, you were best friends, right… Since childhood, you thought he was just being protective because of that, which was in parts true, except, best friends don’t usually have their whole body aching to touch the other person, or the fluttering in his chest, or the butterflies in his stomach, or— “I’m done, should we go, or you want something else, bear?”

 “Wha— Oh, no, I’m good, you sure you got everything you wanted?” Both your gazes fell on the half full basket, it was mostly sweets with a few salty snacks on the side. 

“I’m sure, let’s go, there’s no one in line,” you quickly smiled at him before turning and heading to the cashier. You noticed as she perked up as she noticed the two of you approaching, noticing how she looked at Jongho, and how her expression fell as she saw the intertwined hands. Was it bad that you were happy that her expression fell? Considering you and Jongho were best friends, probably you should feel bad, but you pushed that thought aside, especially as you felt his hand squeeze yours, holding it to his as you made to pull away. “I kinda need my hand to pay, you know?”

The sound of the cashier passing the items filled your ears, but it quickly turned muffled as you looked back at Jongho, finding him already staring at you with a small smile on his lips, his thumb doing a light caress on the back of your hand. “Let me treat you. Please.”

“You want to pay for my groceries?”

“Yeah,” you looked at him like he had grown two heads, making him chuckle and step closer to you. “C’mon it’s nothing major, it’s just groceries, but I wanna do something nice for you… Also because I’ve been a dick to you a while back, I wanna make it up to you.”

“Let him pay,” you opened your mouth to protest, only to have the cashier tell you with a small smile, looking between the two of you before turning to Jongho. “Paying for the groceries is not enough, if you wanna be a good boyfriend and made up for what you did wrong you have to take her on a date or not let her lift a finger for at least the same amount of days you treated her poorly, which considering what I’m seeing, wasn’t as bad as you made it sound.”

The two of you chuckled as Jongho looked between you and the cashier confused, did you two know each other?

“He didn’t do anything that badly, don’t worry, he’s safe… for now,” you jokingly say as the cashier nodded with a smile, the both of you laughing as you saw Jongho a bit startled. Your hand squeezed his lightly with a small smile, leaving the path open so he could pay. “I still think you’ve done more than enough, but I won’t complain if that gets me free snacks.”

Jongho laughed looking at you softly before shaking his head, picking his wallet from his back pocket, his hand still holding yours like his life depended on it. The look the cashier gave you as she saw Jongho pulling the card made you blush a little, as you noticed she genuinely thought you two were a couple, and Jongho had probably done something he felt bad for it. A small flutter in your chest made you look away with your cheeks burning. Why were you enjoying this so much? All of it… Jongho’s attention, his hand on yours, him protecting you, people thinking he was your boyfriend. 

“He’s a catch by the way, congrats on getting him,” she smiled at you knowingly as she handed you the groceries as Jongho put his wallet back in his pocket, swiftly moving to get the bags before you could get the heavier ones. 

“I’m the lucky one to have her, not the other way around, goodnight.”

You were a bit shocked as he simply said that and led you away from the convenience store, but you could see a small lingering smile on his lips as you two walked in silence for a bit, hands still intertwined as you two headed back to your dorm. 

“You don’t mind if she thought we were a couple?”

You finally built the courage to ask, but still couldn’t look at Jongho, but you felt his hand squeeze yours lighty.

“You didn’t look uncomfortable and… Technically you already said that those guys probably thought I was your boyfriend. I thought it wouldn’t cause any harm… Unless I made you uncomfortable, then —”

“No no!” You cut him quickly. “Sorry, no, I was actually scared it made you uncomfortable… I know how discreet you are and all…”

“I don’t mind, not when it’s you.”

Did he just say what he did?, that was what went over both your minds as you looked at each other, both a bit shy but still comfortable with each other. It was like the pieces were puzzling together, and it felt good. 

“Oh, the baby decided to join us for once,” Wooyoung quickly says as soon as he sees Jongho entering Mingi’s room door, rolling his eyes. “What? (y/n) is too busy to give you attention?”

“It’s not like that… She’s stressed, and I know better than to get on her bad side when she’s like that, I still need my ears for class and such,” he closed the door sitting beside Yunho on one of the puffs on Mingi’s room. “What we talking about?”

“Mingi was telling about this girl he was seeing and how he took her to the arcade to, and I quote, ‘show his skills in the claw machine’...”

“But you have no skill…” Jongho quickly added looking at Mingi accusatory, making all the others laugh as Mingi just brushed it off.

“You all misunderstood, my skills with the claw, were what my lovely fingers can do, and I even got her a plushie so she can remember me and how good I am, okay? So I got my goal, you can mock me all you want, I’m getting laid while you are just fisting your hand thinking about your best friend.”

A choir of ‘ooooooh’s filled the room as Jongho just shook his head unaffected by Mingi’s words. 

“Good things come for those who wait though…,” Yeosang chimed in with a half-warning tone to Mingi, as he exchanged a hi5 with Jongho.

“But Mingi did say something interesting—”

“Hey I always say something interesting, what you saying?”

San sighed ignoring Mingi, keeping his focus on Jongho. “You said (y/n) is stressed, didn’t you two were always at the arcade? What if you take them there? They can relieve stress, you two can get cozy—”

“They can see your skilled fingers…”

��MINGI!”

“What? IT WORKS OKAY?!”

“Anyways, I think it could work, it was something you two did constantly in middle school… just a thought baby brother.”

San raised his eyebrows to Jongho as he laid back resting his back on the wall behind him, with a small smirk to Jongho, who brushed it off, but already planning how to bring that subject with you, knowing it was definitely something that you liked and would help you relax, even if a little.

“C’mon star, just one!”

“Bear no! These things are a scam and you know it!” It didn’t matter your protests, Jongho still took your hand, leading you to the claw machines, his gummy smile was all it took for you to accept as he picked a coin putting you in front of it. “You are wasting your money, you know that right?”

“Money spent with you is never wasted, you know that, now go, pick a plushie,” your eyes wander through the machine trying to find an easy pick, setting your eyes in a bear plushie.

“That one, because it looks like you,” your smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “don’t give me that! You asked me to choose! I did, don’t give me that eye roll, you ass!”

“Right, right, my fault, you were only doing what I told you, true,” his gummy smile was back and you smiled back excitedly, even if you were certain you'd lose. “Okay, let’s go, I’ll put the coin, take your time!”

As soon as the coin entered, the machine lit it up, you quickly but steady — attempt of steady — moved the claw to where the bear plushie was, trying your best to place the claw on the right place to win the plushie. Surprise none as you got nothing, making you pout while Jongho laughed at your reaction. 

“I told you it was a waste of money…”

“C’mon once more, just one, if you don’t get we can go get something else, hm?”

You pondered looking between Jongho and the machine, the small smile on his lips already knowing the answer as you nodded, getting ready to get the plushie once more, trying to trace the best approach to get it. 

“You are an enabler of my bad behaviors.”

“I’m a believer in your abilities, it's different, now c’mon you’ll still be amazing if you don’t get that plushie,” his fingers quickly put the coin on the machine who lit up as you calmed down trying to get the plushie once more. As the claw grabbed part of the plushie, lifting, Jongho laughed wholeheartedly as you started to celebrate, only for your pout to get bigger as it fell just before reaching the deposit area. His arms quickly circled you, kissing your head in a comforting manner. “You did great, star, almost got the plushie!”

“But I wanted the plushie,” you kept pouting as you leaned on Jongho. “You try it! I already did the hard part, you can have two tries too, that’s fair, no?”

“You really want that plushie don’t you…?” You nodded with a small pout that turned into a smile as Jongho sighed. “Okay, two tries, but don’t expect much, okay?”

“If you don’t get me that plushie you’ll buy me a huge one,” he looked at you in disbelief. “A bit of playful threats is not bad, just a bit of pressure, you can handle it.” You laughed as he shook his head putting the coin on the machine, getting ready for his first try. Attentive eyes on the plushie and the claw, with a groan from Jongho and a small satisfied chuckle from you as he missed. “Not as easy, is it?”

“Oh, so this is payback? And here I was, being a good friend and getting my favorite person their plushie,” he pushed another coin in, not noticing how your eyes kept staring at him. You were his favorite person? Not favorite friend, but favorite person. That had to mean something right? Or were you just overthinking the way you two have been lately? Getting in too deep in how good you felt whenever you were with Jongho? What if— “YES! SUCK IT MACHINE!”

“You— you got the plushie…” your voice was barely a whisper as you saw the bear plushie coming out of the machine in Jongho’s hand as he handed it to you. 

“Of course I did, I’d always get you a bear plushie, but you wanted this one, so I did my best to get it… so here,” he handed you the plushie as you took it in your hand, bringing it close to you in your arms as you looked at him a bit disbelief. “If we ever have to be apart again, even for a bit, and you miss me… Just hug the plushie and imagine it’s me, okay?”

Your mouth formed a thin line as you nodded, moving to hug Jongho, the bear plushie between your bodies as he giggled at your reaction, but his arms enveloped you still, as you two remained like that for a moment, before you moved away, with a smile to Jongho as you recovered a little from him winning you the plushie and the feelings you were trying to fight.

“It needs a name though… and since it reminds me of you and you said I should hug it if I miss you… How about Jjongbear?”

“You are a Literature Major, shouldn’t you be more creative with names?” He teased, his gummy smile returning as you looked at him annoyed. “Sorry, I had to… But sure, it’s yours, you can name it however you want, star.”

“How am I still friends with you? The boys are right, you and Yeosang are the true savages of the group,” you shook your head faking being upset as you took the bear and lifted it to look at you. “Your father may not appreciate you, but I do, Jjongbear!”

“Father? What are you talking about?”

“Already trying to bolt on parenting, tsk tsk tsk, your father would be disappointed,” you turned around to keep walking through the arcade.

“Yah! What do you mean father? I’m not fathering a plushie with my name in it!”

“You sure it’s okay I tag along, Jjong?”

It was a rhetorical question, technically it would be very hard to bolt now that you were in the car with Jongho heading to Yunho’s cabin in the mountains for the weekend. 

“(y/n), me and the guys said it’s okay, should I play their audio telling me to bring you along again?” He chuckled at your nervousness, reaching for your hand on your thigh, squeezing your hand lightly as kept it there on your thigh. “Plus, it’s been a whole ass semester, you are part of the gang once more, you are even calling the boys out on their bullshit, we all like having you around, and I want you to come with, and enjoy it with us the end of finals.”

“I just sometimes feels like I’m barging in or something… I know we all know each other for ages, but I’m your best friend, and I’m a girl, and I feel like sometimes the guys hold back and—”

“Oh, no, they don’t hold back, they try to be respectful because otherwise I’ll beat their ass, and San, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa also said they’d help, so you have three of the strongest guys on your side, but trust me, they are not holding back… Maybe Mingi is, but I doubt he will once we get there… When he drinks… well… you’ll see.”

You laughed at his words, looking at the highway before looking at your intertwined hands, the light caress of Jongho’s thumb on your hand a comfort reminder of his presence and care. “And where am I sleeping?”

“Oh, Yunho said his parents demanded you’d be in their room, saying that ‘you are not putting them to sleep with you boys, they can sleep in our bedroom, you eight are really loud when you want!’, so… you are the only one with an individual room.”

“Well… they aren’t wrong, the eight of you do get really loud, especially when drinking… God I don’t think I can forget when I went to Wooyoung’s room that one night and San was on the floor singing his lungs out, Wooyoung and Seonghwa were leaning on each other, Mingi and Hongjoong passed out in the corner Yeosang being the cutest and taking care of everyone along with you and Yunho, that were curiously the only ones standing… I still have questions, but I’m dreading the answers.”

Both of you laughed loudly at the memory of that day, his hand squeezed yours unconsciously as he focused back on the road. Suddenly, the rest of the trip to the cabin was about memory sharing, both from when you were kids and now in uni. Both feeling a sense of ease as the whole development of the situations happened, and again the feeling returned. 

The feeling of puzzles fitting together.

That everything was falling into its rightful place. 

That this was right.

“Yah! (y/n), help us out, I’m done being single, I want someone to hold and pamper…”

“Mingi, you are single because you are a manwhore,” he was gonna start to protest, but you beat him to it, “and no, you are not the only manwhore in this group, fear not.”

“Now you done it,” Jongho whispered to you as the guys started to protest, making you laugh loudly throwing your head back on the couch as Jongho took your empty shot glass to fill it once more for each of you. “Hey, they are not wrong! How many people have you guys slept with only this last semester?”

“For the record, I have my eyes on someone, she is the one that doesn’t want anything with me…,” San was quick to say with a pout.

“Of course she doesn’t, she has a girlfriend San, she doesn’t like dick!”

Your words silenced everyone, as everyone looked at San and you with shocked expressions. 

“I don’t mind third wheeling, if that’s the case…”

Everyone burst into laughter at San’s response, everyone taking their shot of soju, Jongho had just poured for everyone. Quickly starting a new conversation as you put your glass back, deciding it was it for you. You never liked drinking, and you had a feeling you kept going you might do something that will ruin things.

“You okay?” Like kissing the man that just whispered in your ear as you felt his arms going over your shoulder, almost cradling you. Your head quickly resting on his shoulder as the tiredness of the past few sleepless nights, stress of the tests and muscle ache from the trip started to hit you. “You wanna head upstairs and sleep?”

“Yah! This is low! I just said I hate being single and you two keep acting like a couple, just date already!” You froze for a moment at Mingi’s words, you noticed how Jongho also froze, but still didn’t move away from you.

“Mingi is right, it’s pretty obvious you two like each other, why don’t you just date?”

“Yunho, we’ve been friends since forever, of course we’d be more comfortable—”

“You two like each other, just admit it already!”

“San is done playing cupid,” the boys all laughed at Wooyoung’s comment that followed San’s grumpy statement. “I mean, it would be easier if there were arrows to make you two realize you like each other, that’s true…”

“And don’t try to deny it, the heart eyes are there, especially when you two think the other isn’t looking,” Hongjoong was quick to say, followed by Yeosang.

“Nah, they are doing it to each other now, they can’t help it anymore.”

“I—I need to pee…” You quickly left the living room, heading to your assigned room, not noticing how everyone looked confused, except for Jongho and Yeosang who were upset and annoyed, respectively.

“You guys had to? Truly?”

“What? Yeo you know they wouldn’t admit it—”

“What if you guys are looking too into it, Wooyoung? What if this ends the friendship I literally just got it back?”

“We are not looking too into it,” San said sternly looking at Jongho who looked at his older brother scoffing. “You wrote a song to them, and keep writing songs about them. And they used to write your names and initials on any paper they could, now they just keeps close if you need them, because they became smarter after I caught them doing that all those years back. So no, they never had a crush on me, it was always you.” 

“How you know I wrote a song to them?”

“That’s what you are focusing on? C’mon Jjong! You left your song notebook open one time when I went to your room to get something and I saw it, and you are not as subtle as you think when writing songs.”

“San is right, you are pretty obvious…”

“And they are pretty oblivious.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa chimed in again, taking another sip of their beer as all of them observed Jongho.

“And if you pay attention, the two of you already act like a couple, so why are you two so scared of acting on it? Everyone already thinks you two are dating… you should talk to them, after setting your head straight, but don’t take too long, the night is young but it’s from GenZ with bills to pay.”

The boys all kept quiet observing Jongho, who quietly got up taking a closed can of beer and took it outside, closing the door behind him as he went to sit on one of the rocks from a small path you and him had explored earlier when you two arrived before hitting the pool with the others. And it pained him to admit the others were right. You were acting like a couple. He cared for you like a boyfriend, his touch was thoughtful but possessive, he was protective, he hated seeing any guy try to hit on you or touching you too much, he hated when you said someone was attractive, or when you commented on something the guys were saying with hidden innuendos that you experienced something like that or similar before, making him question with whom. 

You held hands whenever you could. You hugged all the time for any reason. You were always close together if any of you needed the other. You two were practically living in each other's rooms if you are not in the library studying. Everyone already knew you two were a package deal. Where one went, the other would too. He knew his feelings for you were not platonic or friendly, they were romantic, hell he even had a wet dream about you more than once! But he wasn’t certain from your part. You pushed him to girls you thought he’d think are attractive, you’d indulge into flirting with other guys, even if you always returned to him, making him send those exact guys death stares that made them all run and hide. Were you playing him? Or were in denial like he was, but doing it differently? Pushing him away along with the romantic feelings?

He sighted looking up in the sky. He always loved to come into the mountains, the sky was always clear, so he could easily see the stars that always reminded him of you, back when you two were friends, when you grew apart and now that you reconnected. The starry sky was always his companion to think of you when he couldn’t be with you for whichever reason. He heard the sound of a door, looking towards the cabin, but no one was there, so you looked up, finding you in the balcony, fidgeting your fingers. You were nervous. Was it for the same reasons he was? Because you were seeing that you liked each other and were in denial, or was it because you realized you were acting like a couple when you only saw him as a friend?

His eyes kept darting to the night starry sky back to you, his only star, his northern star, the only direction his heart pointed at since forever. He doesn’t know how long he stood there, but it was enough for his bear to run warm in his hands and the wind blow cold against his skin. He had watched you for long enough to realize he couldn’t pretend anymore, he wanted you, not just as a friend, he wanted you as a partner, a life partner. 

If you didn’t want that, it was okay. He wanted you in his life, it didn't matter how. 

As he rushed to the house, he left his beer on the counter, ignoring the guys’ questions as he headed upstairs towards your room, knocking it loud enough so you could hear even if you were still on the balcony. It took what seemed like forever for footsteps to be heard and you opened the door, widening your eyes and holding back from closing it again as you looked down your feet.

“Hey, sorry, can you tell the guys I’m not coming down? That I’m ready for bed, or something?”

“Can we talk first?”

Your silence and avoidance of eye contact was enough to tell him you knew what this was about and it was unsure if you wanted to.

“Is this about what the guys said?”

He nodded quietly. “I think… It’s something we need to talk about, if it’s… so obvious to everyone but us… no?”

You knew he was right, and he knew you knew. It was just a matter of you wanting to face this now or later. After a few seconds, you took a step back, letting him inside your assigned room, closing the door as he passed, unsure of how to behave. Jongho simply extended his hand for you to take it, hoping the silent request would be accepted by you. 

A small smile formed as you took his hand, letting him guide you to the balcony, the two of you leaning against the fence, his hand still holding your, the light tender caress continuing soothing your fears and nerves without him even knowing. 

“Is there a reason we are on the balcony?” 

Your voice was quiet, scared even to break the silence and eventually the bubble to make the subject of you two come to light. Instead of looking at you, Jongho looked at the sky with a smile. 

“Starry nights remind me of you,” he said simply before looking back at you, your eyes were slightly scared, scared of what he may say, scared of what you two would become after this talk. “Even when we lost touch, I loved to go to places where I could see the stars, because it helped me think of you.”

“Jongho, what—”

“I’ve liked you since we were kids,” at your eyes widening, he let out a wholeheartedly chuckle, taking your hand on both of his hands, before continuing. “I never said anything because we were young and idiots, and for some reason I was so sure you had a crush on San, that made me livid whenever he spent time with us and I saw you get all why and blushing and—”

“Because he knew I liked you,” he stopped talking the second you cut him off. So San was telling the truth, which meant that… you probably still liked him too? “He…” You started looking away from Jongho embarrassed of the childish memory. “He caught me one day writing your name with hearts, or both our names close to each other… I usually did that when I had a lot on my mind, thinking of you calmed me…”

“So… you were shy and flustered with San… because he knew you liked me back then?”

“And he caught on fast that I… still like you now.”

The last part came out as a hushed tone. Both your heads were spiraling as your hearts were racing. You two liked each other back then, and still do now… that meant…

“Can I kiss you?” He blurted out, making you chuckle, being followed by him, with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, sorry, I just… Is this as surreal to you as it is to me?”

You turned to him, biting your lip with a small nod. “I’m still stuck on the ‘I liked you since we were kids’ parts,” you laughed wholeheartedly as Jongho smiled, taking a step closer to you, testing the waters, testing if this was truly what you wanted, making you freeze for a moment. Your eyes almost automatically go to his lips before reaching his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, bear.”

“And neither do I, star… but… will you allow us to try… be more than we are now?”

At your silence and lingering gaze on his face, he tested reaching to you once more, which wasn’t badly received, especially as he felt your free hand on his arm, a silent invitation for him to continue. “Just don’t break my heart again.”

“I never intended on doing that, and I don’t plan on ever hurting you ever again,” he whispered as he leaned close, so close that you could feel each other's breaths against your faces. “I’ll ask again, and I’d like a direct answer… Can I, finally, feel your lips against mine?”

“Yes, please.”

Without a second to think, Jongho leaned in, his lips meeting yours hungrily but… tenderly? You could feel how much he wanted to savor you, but he also wanted to devour you. As his tongue asked for entrance, your hands moved to his shoulder and up his hair messing it up as you allowed him entrance, his hands quickly finding your waist and hip pulling your body close to him. It was like you were in purgatory, the delicious heaven of having his lips on your, but the burning sensation of wanting more. You gasped as you felt his cool finger trace the hem of your shirt, touching the warm skin underneath.

“Sorry, sorry, I just—”

“Bed, now,” you said against his lips pulling him back inside, his hand quickly moving to close the door that led to the balcony, your lips crashing once more. It was you were addicted, addicted to his lips, to his hands on you, to how every touch seemed to burn your skin in the most delicious way. His hands were strong, but cautious, touching just the right places to drive you insane as his lips met yours in a contained hunger.

“(y/n), I don’t want to push you—”

“Shut up,” you said against his lips once more, pushing him back to the bed, as soon a he fell on the bed, his hands were on your hip, playing with the hem of the shirt, tracing lazy burning patterns on your skin. “We are not making a mistake, are we?”

“No, this is not a mistake, unless you don’t want to…”

His tender and understandable eyes made you melt. How even in a situation like this, Jongho could still be the most respectful and caring guy you could ever meet, even when you could feel how much he wanted you, in the way he kissed you, touched you, how he devoured you with his eyes, but still keeping them with a hint of tenderness? How were you lucky to have a man like this fall for you?

“I want you Jongho, but I want all of you,” you moved to stand between his legs, your hands on his hair pushing it away from his face, who looked at you with such care and hunger that was mimic in his actions, on how his hands traveled your body, possessively but like committing every curve, every stretch, every gap to memory. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming…”

“You are not dreaming star,” his smile was almost calming to you, as you let a sigh of relief closing your eyes, gasping as you felt his lips on the exposed part of your shirt his fingers were playing with, a mischievous but cautious smile appeared on his lips, as his face hovered against your stomach. “Is this okay? I’m sorry, I just want you too, all of you… if you have me.”

Instead of answering with words, you moved to straddle Jongho, keeping eye contact as it felt like you were dreaming still. Dreaming his lips had been on yours, that his hands were touching your skin under your shirt, that his lips touched the skin of your stomach, that he was underneath you, looking at you with the mix of lust and love. As your weight settled on top of Jongho, he closed his eyes, controlling his reaction. 

There was so much he wanted to do to you, but he never wanted to make you uncomfortable, he was waiting for you cue, to anything that could tell what you wanted, he’d give you anything and everything. He was yours and you were his, and he was gonna make sure you felt loved with every piece of your body and soul. 

You leaned forward once more, your lips touching his, his hands tightening on your hips, grounding you on his lap, gasping against the kiss as you felt his half-hard cock underneath you. His lips moved to your jawline as you moved your hips against his bulge, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh as your nails sank on his shoulder, one of your hands moved to his hair once more. Your movements become less precise as you feel his lips and tongue on your neck. 

Tiny murmurs of ‘is this okay?’, ‘so perfect’, so pretty’, ‘been dreaming of this for so long’, along with your own gasps and silent moans as you kept your movements, feeling his getting harder underneath you as he worshiped your neck, his hands moving from your hip, to waist, to back and all over again, until he stopped your hips, taking his head away from your neck. Hooded eyes, swollen lips, you held back from kissing him, as you moved your hips instinctively having him groan and close his eyes with a small ‘fuck’ coming out of his mouth.

“(y/n), I’m controlling myself pretty well, and I’m pretty good at that, but I won’t be able to control much with you moving like that on top of me, with a bed right here with us… I don’t want to push you into—”

“What if I want to?” His eyes shot up, searching for any type of deception on your eyes, or hints that it wasn’t truly what you wanted. “We are not children anymore Jongho, we are not freshly teenagers. I know what I want, and I want you.”

“Fuck, don’t say things like that….”

“Why? You don’t think I know what I want?” You said cheekily, testing the waters as your finger traced his jaw and lips. “I want you to make me yours for real Jongho, because I’ve been yours for longer than I’d like to admit.”

“I’ve been yours since the first time we met, even when we were kids, I was yours, you were always it for me. You were always the person I compared to others, and God I searched for you everywhere when I lost you… And I’m scared that if I give in this easily you’ll vanish… I still can’t believe I have you back, I can’t believe I have you like this.”

You smiled genuinely leaning in and kissing Jongho, this time was calmer, full of passion but no desire but to show love for each other. You pushed your body forward, making Jongho fall on his back as you kept kissing him. “I’m yours Jongho, always been, always will be.”

In a swift movement Jongho moved you so he was on top, your legs quickly wrapping around his hips, your hands on his arms, one of his hands cupping your face, caressing your cheek. “Are you sure? Because I swear, you are making it impossible to—”

“I’m sure, please, Jjong.”

“Okay,” he said after a while with a small smirk on his lips as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “but we are doing my way, star.”

Before you could say anything, his lips found the spot under your ear, kissing it tenderly as his hands started to wander your body just lie before, committing every part to memory, like you are a marble, a painting, a book he wanted to undercover all its secrets. You gasped as his hands moved your shirt up, exposing until under your breasts, while his lips tasted every part of your neck and chest, he moved from the valley of your breasts to your midriff, keeping with the tender small lingering kisses on your skin, worshiping every little part you had of your body. 

While one of his hands kept your shirt up, the other swiftly pulled your sweats down a little so he slid his hand to your pants, pads of his fingers tracing slow eight figures on your clit over your panties, making you gasp. Instinctively your hands went to his hair, while the other held his arm that held your shirt over, moving it to expose your bra, which we quickly pushed to the side, mouth involving your breasts as his movements on your clit grew faster, making you squirm under him.

“Jongho, pl–please…”

“Your wish is my command, my love.”

His mouth met your neck once more, as his fingers pulled your panties to the side, his middle finger teasing your entrance. As you were about to complain, his index and middle fingers entered you, skillfully curling inside of you before leaving, only to enter again. You could go insane just by what he was doing. As your moans grew louder, he moved his mouth to yours, muffling your sounds as his fingers sped up, his thumb pressing your clit as his fingers curled inside of you. 

“Quiet (y/n), we don’t want the guys to come and take a peak.”

“Sorry, just— argh! So good, so so good, Jjong, God!”

His laugh against your neck made you shiver as he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine as your orgasm was denied, but before you protested, Jongho brought his fingers soaked on your juice to his lips, before smirking at you. “Can’t wait to taste you properly, clothes off, lay on the bed, head on the pillows and try to keep it down, I don’t want anyone interrupting us, or seeing how good I’ll make you feel, okay?”

“I like this side of you…”

He smirked as you two started to take your clothes off. “Good, because you’ll see more and more of it from now on.”

As you lay down on the bed, completely naked, you took a moment to appreciate Jongho’s naked form the same way he was doing to you. His toned muscles, his tanned skin, the hidden parts that only you were able to see, because he was yours and no one else’s. He slowly moved back to the bed positioning himself in front of your legs, his hard cock leaking as his hands touched your knees, gently spreading your legs, revealing your soaking cunt, a bit red from the mess his fingers did to you. 

Instead of digging for it, he teased you. His lips trailing kisses over your legs from your shoulder to the junction of your thigh and hip, repeating on the other side, before making himself comfortable on the bed, holding your thighs as he started to leave tender kisses on your labia, making you jolt your lips as they touched your sensitive clit, your hands going to his hair, as he started to lick your clit, leaving small kisses, before starting to make out with your cunt. The way you could feel his lips and tongue everywhere was driving you to the edge. 

He was eating you like no one ever had.

No, he wasn’t eating you out, he was making out with your cunt. 

Like he had all the time in the world. 

Because he had, he had all the time in the world to make you feel good. 

And God you tried your best to keep it down. 

Quiet, hushed moans, with few exceptions that made Jongho chuckle against your core, making your whole body reverberate with it. 

Your legs probably shook three times before he finally stopped kissing your cunt, the way your whole body was like pudding at that moment was insane, and yet, you wanted more. You wanted him inside. 

“Jongho, please, I need you inside…”

“Are you sure you can take it, (y/n)? I have a feeling I spent you too much already,” he hovered above you with a cocky smile as he pushed your hairs away from your face, caressing it tenderly, his eyes were sweet, cautiously, slightly worried if he was pushing your body’s limit already.

“I’m sure,” you nodded as your voice sounded breathlessly. It was true, you were spent, but in the best way possible, and your body ached for him. “I’m sure, Jjong, I can take it, please.”

“I don’t have a condom…”

“You can pull out, I’m on the pill, as long as you are clean, we are good.”

He couldn’t help but find your eagerness endearing. 

“I’ll be gentle, promise.”

And he was. 

His hands gently moved you around the way that would be the most comfortable for you, gently spreading your legs wider as he positioned his cock at your entrance. Looking at you once more to confirm, you nodded back. Jongho positioned himself before leaning into you, lips meeting in a gentle, sweet kiss as his cock slowly entered your hole. Your lips parted as you felt him fill you up, allowing Jongho to kiss your face and neck, as his hands wandered your body in a worshiping manner. 

As he finally entered you full, he gave you time to adjust, moving slowly, not fully pulling out, his hips moving slowly as one of his hands kept his weight out of you, the other exploring every part of your body, cupping your face, making you look at him, as his pace increased, observing every reaction you had so he could make sure not to push you too much, but just enough to make you feel good. 

His lips once more found yours as you both started to get more and more needy for each other, his movements getting faster, precise, as your nails scratched his back, your legs wrapped around his hips for a moment, making you almost scream for how good it felt. Your nails digging on his flesh made him groan as his movements became sloppier, allowing you to move to kiss his jawline and neck, hearing him curse speeding his movements. His head hid on the crook of your neck as he held you close. Your body was already easily shaking, but he tried his best to control your release while trying to reach his. 

You clenched around him more and more, moaning against his ear, ‘that’s it’, ‘fuck so good’, ‘don’t stop’, ‘fuck you are so tight’, a mix of words between you and Jongho as you hid your screamed moan on his shoulder finally hitting your high, he slowed down riding out your high, before detaching himself from you, pulling out and fisting his hand. The sight of your fucked out face, almost making him cum in sight, a few stroke after his cum was over your torso as both of you were spent in bed. 

“Stay put, I’ll be right back,” he said breathlessly to you, heading to the bathroom, grabbing a hand towel, wetting half to clean you up. As he was sure you were clean, minding the sore spots, he tossed the towel to the sink, as he moved to lay beside you. “You okay? Not too sore?”

“I’m fine, you were perfect,” you said leaning in kissing his lips, his hand finding your hip, pulling you closer to him as his other hand served as base for your head to rest. You quickly pulled the covers over the two of you, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm around you, caressing the skin of your arm feather-like, your legs tangling. Your free hand draws lazy patterns on his chest, before his free hand envelops yours bringing to his lips.

A small tender kiss on your knuckles. 

“I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you, Jongho.”

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[cythena]

COMPLIMENTARY

ꨄ synopsis . on his flight back home, geto expects peace and quiet. he can't wait to relax and get away from his busy idol life for a moment. his plans are disrupted by the charming flight attendant who gives him first class treatment.

warnings . strangers fucking, flight attendant!reader, idol!geto (ig), not proofread and was written for san so if something doesn't make sense that's way, airplane sex, semi public sex, PnV, PwP, fingering, reader wears lipstick idk

word count . 2k

notes . this was san. i love san. he's my man. muah. happy new year.

Suguru is grateful, to say the least, to get onto his flight without trouble. No fan spots him walking through the airport, and he isn’t “randomly” selected at any security checkpoints. Now he can enjoy his first-class flight with his manager sleeping beside him. The flight attendants hustle around him as standard procedure. He relaxes into his seat, ignoring them and letting his body sink into the plush cushioning.

Suguru closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. It’s rare to have this kind of peace during travel, and he plans to savor it. As the flight attendants continue their rounds, he catches glimpses of them moving through the cabin. One in particular catches his eye—you.

Your hair is neatly out of your face, letting him admire your features clearly from across the cabin. Your eyebrows are neatly trimmed, and your eyeshadow is a neutral shade with a sharp wing extending from the corner of your eyes. And is that glitter? Then his eyes fall on your lips—that red lip. It’s outlined by a dark lip liner that he hasn’t noticed on any of the other attendants.

There’s also a brighter smile on your face as you speak to the mother-son duo. It’s not just a customer service smile either; it looks genuine, even when you walk away. His coworkers tend to lose a majority of the charm once they walk away.

You move with an ease that captivates the attention of everyone in the cabin, even though you remain focused on your work.

When you reach his row, you pause and offer a polite smile, your eyes briefly meeting his. "Good evening, sir. Can I get you something to drink?"

Suguru smiles back, feeling a flutter in his chest. "Just some water, please," he gulps, his voice calm but carrying a hint of curiosity. He watches as you move away, feeling an unexpected intrigue. It’s been a long time since he’s been captivated by someone in such a simple, unassuming way.

“Really?” you hum. Your response surprises him as you fill a short glass with ice cubes. “Nothing special?”

He manages to snap back into the conversation when you pour water into the glass and set it on his tray. Shaking his head, “No. Maybe later.” A natural smile falls onto his lips as he looks at you.

“Well, it’s a 13-hour flight,” you say while leaning on your cart. “Call me when you need me.” You let out a harmonious giggle that Suguru swears replays in his ears. You offer him a final wave as you push to the row behind him. He glances at his manager who is still knocked out peacefully.

Suguru shifts in his seat, trying to focus on the in-flight entertainment, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. Every so often, he hears your voice as you interact with passengers, that same cheerful tone making him smile to himself. It’s rare for anyone to catch his attention like this, let alone during something as routine as a flight.

Hours pass, and the cabin begins to settle. Most of the passengers are either asleep or engrossed in their screens. Suguru glances around, noticing the row beside him is still empty. Just as he’s about to recline and close his eyes, you appear again, this time without your cart.

You pause next to him, flashing him that same bright smile. “Looks like my break lines up perfectly with your row being empty,” you tease lightly. “Mind if I sit for a bit? It’s not every day I get a flight so easy.”

Suguru blinks in surprise but quickly recovers, nodding. “Not at all. Be my guest- if that won’t get you in trouble.”

You wave his concern off while you slide into the seat beside him, smoothing out your uniform as you settle in. “Hospitality is very important, especially with such a special passenger. So,” you begin, leaning slightly toward him, “what brings you on this flight? Work or play?”

Suguru chuckles softly, running a hand through his hair. “A little bit of both, I guess. Mostly work, though.” He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “What about you? What made you wanna be a flight attendant?”

You laugh softly, resting your chin in your hand. “It’s a little silly. Don’t laugh.”

He nods, unsure of what tale could result in your career choices.

“I wanted to be a singer.” Suguru quirks a brow which urges you to continue with your explanation. “Well, a performer, more so. One night, I was chatting with a friend who said something that really had me thinking. Anyone can be a performer, singers have their stages, and me—I have this as mine.” You pat the leather armrest you lean on.

Suguru listens intently, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That’s not silly at all,” he says softly. “In fact, I think it’s... poetic.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Poetic? That’s one way to put it. But I like to think it’s true. Every day, I get to meet people from all over the world, and for a few hours, I’m part of their journey. No matter what. That’s special, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Suguru agrees, his gaze softening. “You get to create memories for people, even if it’s just through small moments.”

You glance at him, slightly surprised by his thoughtful response. “Exactly,” you reply, your voice tinged with admiration. “Most people don’t get it, but you do.”

Suguru shrugs modestly. “Maybe because I know a thing or two about being on a stage.”

Your eyes narrow playfully. “Oh, so you’re a performer, too? What kind of stage are we talking about?”

Suguru hesitates for a moment, debating whether to tell you the truth. “Something like that,” he says vaguely, a small smirk playing on his lips. You tilt your head, sensing there’s more to his story, but decide not to push. Instead, you smile and lean back, enjoying the unexpected ease between the two of you.

He chuckles softly, his smirk deepening as he watches your curiosity linger in your eyes. “What about you? You ever dream of being on a stage again, even for a moment?” he asks, his voice dipping lower.

Your breath catches for a beat, the question catching you off guard. You glance around the dim cabin, ensuring no one is listening, before leaning in slightly. “Sometimes,” you admit, your voice just above a whisper. “But I think I’m better at making people feel special in little ways. It’s more... intimate.”

Suguru’s gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, a movement so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. But you catch it, and your heart skips a beat.

“Intimate, huh?” he murmurs, his voice soft, yet carrying an undeniable edge. “I can see that.”

You shift in your seat, your fingers brushing near the corner of your lips and make a small smudge in the red. You continue eyeing him with a dangerous glint in your eyes. It doesn’t match the sweet smile playing on your lips and the delicate sound of your voice. As his eyes dart across your face and seem to linger on the bit of red against your skin, he feels the need to adjust his pants.

He curses himself, knowing he’s not being subtle about this at all. But before you can take a glance he clears his throat. “Sorry…but you don’t think I could get another water.” He almost wheezes out the last word.

“You know,” you begin, your voice light but laced with risk, “I could show you where we flight attendants really work behind the scenes, as I get you this water.” You add the last part with light-hearted sarcasm.

Suguru raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued but he soon catches onto what you mean. “Behind the scenes?”

You nod, biting your lip as a mischievous glint lights your eyes. “Follow me,” you say, standing up and motioning subtly toward the aisle.

Suguru hesitates only for a second before rising, his heart pounding in a way that has nothing to do with turbulence. As he trails behind you, the dim glow of the cabin lights seems to heighten the tension, every step feeling more deliberate, more charged. He passes by passengers focused on their screens and just hopes they don’t feel like looking up.

You lead him to the back of the plane with little to no passengers all spread around the last few rows. Another coworker of yours sits idly on her phone with one of your complementary cookies in her hand. With one glance at you and your guest, she gets up with a knowing smirk which leads Suguru to believe he’s not the first lucky passenger of yours.

The crew lavatory is a bit more spacious than the economy one but smaller than the first class. It gives him enough space to sit you up on the sink and let you wrap your legs around his slim waist. He steadies his hands on your hips while your hands sink into his soft locs.

You think he’s going in for a kiss when he leans closer but defers towards your ear. His lips brush against you as he softly murmurs, “Hospitality is important, right?” You nod. “Then you’ll make your guest feel special?”

He smashes his lips onto yours with a passion you’ve never seen before. He kisses you like you’re the last bit of oxygen on Earth. His hands work quickly at your uniform, opening your blazer and undoing the buttons to your white blouse. Then he tugs your pencil skirt up over your hips.

Once he pulls away from your lips, he peers at the slight smudge of your lipstick. It’s far from his liking but his eyes are quickly pulled lower to your matching set underneath your clothes. He lips his pink lips while rubbing his thumbs over your plush thighs.

“Is this part of your uniform? Or did you wear it just for me?” he hisses. You reply with a crooked smile that’s wiped when he hauls your hips closer to the edge of the counter.

He glances down between your thighs and slides two fingers between your folds to test. He lifts them into the cool bright lighting of the bathroom. A shimmer reflects on the strand between his fingers. You don’t get a good look before he wraps his lips around his fingers. You moan at the sight yourself.

He sets a quick pace with his digits. His fingers move in and out of you, slick gathering around your cunt, and dripping onto the counter and down his wrist. You squeeze his shoulders while your head falls back against the wall. Your jaw hangs open while your eyes shut from the pleasure.

Suguru uses the hand holding onto your, he snakes it up your spine and grips the back of your head. Your eyes snap open as he slots his lips against yours again. He’s less precise with the way his lips move against yours. He doesn’t let up with the way he kisses you, taking every opportunity to swirl his tongue around yours.

You pull away. “Oh f…fuck,” you hiss. “I’m gonna…”

“You wanna cum?”

You nod.

“Okay. Cum for me. You can do it.” He whispers as his fingers continue their pace. He forces you to hold yourself up while his other hand rubs your clit.

You feel your mind go blank once he adds his second hand. Your moans start to crack while your pussy clenches around his fingers. He blocks your body’s natural reaction to clench your thighs. The sound you make when he pulls away has him holding in a whimper himself. He quickly pops his fingers in his mouth for a taste.

You don’t get time to acknowledge it before you feel his tip prodding at your clit. Jolts of electricity shock through your body.

He lets his head fall onto your neck and his cheek rubs against your necktie. He lets out a shaky curse followed by a dry chuckle and can barely lift his head. “Fuck me…You’re gonna kill me.”

“Sorry,” you pull his head back up so you can look at him. Your tongue swipes over your lips and sends Suguru into a spiral. He sinks the rest of his length into you at lightning speed. You’re stuffed before you can even blink. Your manicure scratches him through his shirt.

“Heh…mhm…gonna let me fuck you? Make you feel real good, baby?” he asked, nodding like he was answering for you. “That’s right.” He pulls out halfway but quickly pushes himself back in like he’s cold without your warmth around him.

Your hands sneak underneath his shirt to push it up. You were curious about what he was hiding underneath his black t-shirt – a masterpiece handcrafted by God, clearly. He seems proud of it, you assume, by the cocky smirk on his face as he wraps both arms around your back.

You wrap your legs around him as he thrusts. He settles on how hard he wants to fuck you and it’s hard.

Your hands grab at nothing as he fucks into you. He fills you up completely and leaves you empty for less than a second. His thick cock hits that spongey spot every single time.

You’re not sure if you love the way he’s wrecking your insides or the butterflies he’s giving them more. He continues pressing kisses across your face. He cushions your head from the hard wall and mumbles sweet words.

“God. You’re so pretty…Feel so good, too…Do you feel good? I wanna make you feel good – lemme make you feel so good,” he babbles. You can clearly make out his pussydrunk words and all they do make is make you wetter and your cunt louder.

He adjusts your hips and completely changes the angle you’ve felt his cock at. This new angle has you screaming and creaming all over him.

“Please please please,” you whine pathetically.

“Yeah. Cum for me, you’re so pretty when you cum.”

You whine again, even louder this time. Your back arches into him and you let yourself go. Your eyes cross from the pleasure while your brain forgets how to function momentarily. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath.

“Such a greedy girl, cumming for me twice,” he mocks. His teasing is short-lived and his high is rushing. “Where do you want it?” His voice is almost a whisper.

“Inside?” you ask so politely it has him shooting without another thought. He pulls you close to his chest. His head hangs by your ear again, you hear every shaky breath and curse. He buries his head in your neck again.

“Think I just fell in love,” he confesses playfully when he pulls away.

You can’t resist the grin on your face as you come down from your high. He continues to hold you as he helps you redress and straighten your clothes. He buttoned your blouse up and pulled your skirt back down. He even readjusted your necktie again.

You look so pretty, he thinks to himself. It almost bothers him.

He smiles at you. His gaze locks onto your lips, a flicker of mischief crossing his features. Without a word, his thumb grazing your bottom lip presses firmly enough to smear your lipstick. Your mouth widens in a gasp which helps him even more.

He pats your cheek and leaves you with one more kiss. He lets you fix yourself up and returns to his seat.

It’s only a few minutes before he sees you again. You stop by his seat and set two things on his tray table: a glass of whiskey neat and a small business card. He glances up at you and notices something that’s got his pants in a tent again.

Your lipstick was still smeared.

He doesn’t get to comment on it. “Complimentary,” you say before continuing down the aisle.

He takes a look at the pretty card. There’s a red kiss mark on it with his name and seat number. On the other side: “Call me when you land! XXX-XXX-XXXX ♡”

He had a few days off when he returned.

[luv-beam]

IM BAAAACK!!! i was gonna save this as my bedtime story, but then i realized i can't stay up tonight 😭 but all the better for me bc i get to read this little masterpiece early 😌:

• when you don't just have a feeling that today isn't going to go well, but it's DESTINED not to go well... good lord time to panic! also the description of the dress is so pretty rah like the quiet dignity and refinement over opulence, rhe soft rustling of the skirts,, u can really feel the vibe of the family thru this and also the tension w the fact that yn feels everything BUT perfect

• WHISPERING THAT A LADY'S VIRTUE LIES IN RESTRAINT OHHHHHH U CANT DO THIS TO ME NOT WHEN YN LITERALLY IS LIKE RESTRAINING HERSELF FROM HER OWN DESIRES THIS WHOLE FIC U CANT

• fun fact but corsets were never meant to be suffocatingly tight; its kind of just a modern stereotype, but im not mentioning this to diss ur writing or anything !!! 😭😭 i think the tightness of the corset and yns lack of room to breathe is a really important symbol that lends to how she's really feeling. like the physical connecting to the emotional

• okay another comment abt ur imagery bc ur descriptions of the palace are utterly breathtaking 🤧 like White Room Syndrome is scared of u, tara

• i know whats gonna happen, but like the tension and suspense u create is enough to have anyone on the edge of their seats!! like u dont need future sight to be anxious abt what's gonna happen. like will yn get out of this scot-free or will something horrible happen?

• "you are a xu, do not falter" ugh all the pressure and expectations yn is burdening herself w just continue to distress and weigh her down further...

• GIVE THIS GIRL A HUG 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

• i hate that i like,,, get their mother's argument. like im on yn and hao's side fs but also... idk i think she just had sm going on and like mental struggles can be just as harmful as physical ones. im glad hao is so compassionate, and that her mother does have some sympathy for her daughter

• (but i know what comes next 😭😭😭😭😭)

• "a splendid display of athleticism" PLS IM GONNA SNORT SKFNDKFNFNF seokmin does have a knack for brightening the room :'))) even i was trying to mope w our mc, but then that line made me break lol

• HOPE CAN BE A SLIPPERY CREATURE YES WE KNOW .

• TARA U WANT ME TO CRY DONT U (´Д⊂ヽ NOT IN THE WAY U LONG FOR?? THE CHASM BTWN UR FEELINGS AND HIS INDIFFERENCE???? EEEUUUGHHHH!!!

• i hate how supportive seok is being, like hope truly is a slippery creature. i feel like me and the mc both r getting strung along goddamn......

• love the details of the lady's tea and the garden party — great worldbuilding details to get me even more immersed

• AWWWH THE NEW DRESS, HER MAMA'S ADORATION FOR HER UGH 😭😭😭 i hate knowing the future. besides that, love the imagery of the dress like i can piece it together in my mind as if im sketching it out!! its so pretty :')) def befitting of a princess

• such a "slipping thru my fingers" moment 🤧🤧 like it's so starkly different from the time yn was getting ready for the debut presentation where she was just worried and freaking out; now she and her mom are /laughing/ and tho there r expectations, this will undoubtedly ease a couple of those worries

• oh the the anticipation is killing me — and then the ball is positively dismal >~<

• I WAS WAITING FOR SEOK TO FINALLY COME BY AND OFFER A DANCE LIKE UR YNS BESTIE COME HERE AND GIVE HER A HAND BY ASKING FOR HER HAND WINK WINK

• the mamas leading an army line is so funny lol and who said women cant fight??

• BRUH i just speedran five different emotions like HOLY SHIT I LOVE SEOK > holy shit. does he love yn back? > holy shit this hurts > holy... shit... > oh fck. like the immediate realization that snaps into place when u out two and two together. i wanna say she's jumping to conclusions based on seok's initial surprise, but im also cynical like yn is being in this moment and yeah... idk

• OPEN HONEST DEVASTATING. TAKE A KNIFE THROUGH MY HEART ALREADY THE WAY THOSE THREE WORDS PUNCTURE MY CHEST

• the "how foolish of me" not only meant for the fact that she thought he'd gone into this w pure intentions, but also foolish of herself for believeing he actually wanted to dance w her, that she actually had a chance w him... oh i want to yeet myself off a cliff

• omg the argument btwn yn and hao... tensions were high, im afraid... like idk if chucking a shoe at his face was supposed to be funny but i feel yns fury and the angry tears like i know there were better ways to go abt this, but i am all for female rage!!!

• "the bitterness in ur chest is a wellspring of anguish" OHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭 oh 😭 like it's catching up to her now. also, just the fact that hope is so slippery and caused her to make her entire reputation crumble is just... someone give this girl a hug, she was not built for this

• YOU'VE TAKEN SOMETHING PRECIOUS FROM ME???? some might say its her dignity, her reputation, her agency,,,, but we all know what it really was... or who...... i love snarling female rage dialogue

• do u know the taylor swift "right where u left me"? yeah thats this whole next section 😭💔 baby just becomes a ghost who haunts the place she was abandoned and wronged

• THAT LAST LINE IS LIKE THE EXECUTIONER'S PULL ON THE PULLEY TO LET THE GUILLOTINE BLADE FLY. LIKE OH THE POWER OF A SINGLE LINE LIKE THAT

despite knowing what was gonna happen, it still hit so hard, or rather, EVEN HARDER this time 😭😭😭 like my mouth is pulled into a permanent frown skcnekfnjf IM SO SAD FOR HER LIKE I DONT MIND BEING A SPINSTER MYSELF, BUT THE EXPECTATIONS THAT COME W HER SOCIAL STATION WONT ALLOW HER TO BE 😭😭😭 she will forecer be haunted by her choises and foolishness and im so sad for her 😭😭😭 tara, u are a cruel (yet talented...) mistress 😭

i... will be back tmrw... 🥲👍

The Somerset Affair | Chapter 2: When the Music Stops

pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.8k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, crying, mentions of a panic attack (not being able to breathe), eventual smut, more to be added a/n: sorry sorry i know ch 2 took forever // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys this could not have happened without you // 3rd chapter will be up faster than this one i swear!!!

summary: when the music stops and everything goes wrong, will seokmin always be there to defend you?

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The morning of your debut should have been perfect. Every detail had been painstakingly planned over months, from the delicate lace of your gown to the pearls in your hair. But as you sit in front of your vanity, eyes bloodshot and heavy with fatigue, you know deep in your bones that this day is not destined to go smoothly.

You had stayed up the entire night, restless, thinking about Seokmin. Every word he had said, every smile, every fleeting touch that had seemed so innocent before now felt charged with meaning, occupying your thoughts and stealing away any hope of restful sleep. The result was staring back at you in the mirror: bloodshot eyes, dark circles beneath them, and lips that trembled as your maid worked tirelessly to dress you. It’s a pity – no amount of powders or rouge can hide the exhaustion and heartbreak written plainly across your face.

The soft rustling of your white debutante gown fills the room, each movement whispering of elegance and careful tradition. The gown is a masterful creation, carefully chosen by your mother months ago to reflect the quiet dignity of your family’s name. Its bodice is fitted, meticulously embroidered with the finest ivory threads that weave delicate patterns of lilies and vines across the fabric, adding dimension without overpowering.

Around the neckline, a border of tiny pearls catches the morning light, giving the gown a subtle shimmer that, like everything else about it, speaks of refinement over opulence. The gown’s sleeves, long and sheer, are trimmed in lace as fine as a spider’s web, designed to lay gently against your skin rather than cling, as if even the gown itself recognizes the demands of decorum.

The skirts cascade from the waist in a perfect fall of lace and satin, layers upon layers of gossamer fabric that float with your every step. Each layer, though fragile to the touch, is artfully arranged to maintain the gown’s perfect shape, a testament to the skill of its makers and the patience it took to assemble. At the hem, more intricate lacework peeks out, creating a subtle scalloped edge that brushes softly against the floor, finishing the gown with a grace that echoes the restraint of your mother’s discerning eye.

You cannot deny that the gown itself is a marvel, designed to highlight and enhance rather than dominate. It is beautiful, in the way a rose is beautiful—with an elegance that feels both timeless and delicate, whispering that a lady’s virtue lies in restraint, in never asking to be noticed and yet never failing to command attention.

But the corset. Oh, the corset. It felt as though it were designed to squeeze the very life from you.

“Breathe in, my lady,” your maid instructs, her voice strained from the effort of pulling at the stiff fabric. She pulls at the stays until your ribs protest in pain.

“I can’t breathe in anymore,” you bite out, trying and failing to draw in a proper breath. The corset feels like it’s made of iron, constricting your lungs until your vision begins to blur. “It’s too tight. I— I can’t—”

But your lady’s maid is relentless, ignoring your protests as she cinches you even tighter. She ties the final knot with a satisfied sigh. “There. That should hold.”

Hold? It felt more like it was keeping you prisoner, you think grimly, but before you can voice any more complaints, your mother sweeps into the room, her graceful presence filling the space with a quiet authority. Dressed in an elegant gown of soft gray silk, she pauses to take in your appearance, her sharp eyes noting every detail.

Your mother’s eyes scan your dress approvingly, but when her gaze lands on your face, her expression falters. “Dearest, you look... unwell.”

Your heart sinks. “I didn’t sleep much last night,” you confess, eyes cast downward, though you don’t dare mention why. The last thing you need is your mother knowing Seokmin has occupied your thoughts in such a way.

Your mother sighs softly and moves to stand beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “This day is important, darling. I had hoped you would be well-rested, but...” She trails off, her tone not unkind, but laced with concern. “There is no time now to dwell on it. The Queen waits for no one.”

You nod, feeling a rush of guilt, knowing how much effort has gone into preparing you for this moment. But the weight of the corset and your sleepless night are conspiring to make you feel utterly overwhelmed. Your mother notices, of course. She always does.

“Try not to worry too much,” she says, her voice softening, though it still holds that undercurrent of expectation. “You must keep your chin high, shoulders back. No one need know what little sleep you had. You are beautiful, my dear, no matter the circumstances.”

Her words, though comforting, do little to ease the anxiety building in your chest. But there’s no time left. Your lady’s maid places the final pearl pins in your hair, and your mother gives you a reassuring squeeze before she gestures toward the door. “It’s time.”

Your nerves flutter violently as you’re escorted downstairs and into the awaiting carriage. The ride to the palace feels both endless and far too short. Every bump in the road jostles your already-tight corset, pressing against your ribs and leaving you breathless. The palace is as magnificent as you had heard—no, it’s more. The palace itself is a marvel of architecture, an opulent structure that seems more the work of fantasy than reality. Vaulted ceilings soar impossibly high, held aloft by marble columns adorned with delicate carvings of ivy and mythical creatures that seem to come to life in the flickering candlelight. Every archway is flanked by gilded moldings, winding and curling like golden vines, each detail rendered with the precision of a master sculptor.

Each corner, each angle of the palace seems to lead to something grander than the last, as if it were designed to swallow you whole in beauty. And perhaps it is, you think, as you press a hand over your fluttering heart. For despite the elegance, there is an undeniable sense of intimidation in the sheer scale of it all—a reminder of how small you are in the face of such a place, and of the scrutiny that awaits within these towering, timeworn walls.

You can feel the architecture itself imposing upon you, weighing down like the firm hand of tradition. For a fleeting moment, you imagine yourself wandering through the palace alone, exploring every column and arch, free of the hundreds of eyes upon you. But here, now, with the gaze of history and expectation pressing down, you straighten your shoulders, drawing in a steadying breath, and follow your Mama into the Great Hall. 

The hall is grander than anything you had even dared to imagine. The polished marble floors shine like glass, capturing reflections in delicate ripples that turn the passing gowns of debutantes into pools of lace and silk. Chandeliers hang from above, so immense and dazzling that they appear to drip crystal stars. They illuminate the room with a glow that is almost celestial, casting every inch of the hall in a warmth befitting the Queen herself.

To your right and left, mirrors taller than any man stretch to the ceiling, framed in gold leaf as intricate as lacework. The mirrors hold your gaze as you pass, capturing the girls beside you as they float forward with their mothers, each one a shimmering, blushing vision in white. You see yourself in these mirrors too, and although the gown fits you perfectly, somehow you feel like you’re wearing another’s skin. For a moment, you imagine your reflection whispering back, “Are you really here?”

The walls are covered in the richest velvet, deep greens and ruby reds that somehow make the hall feel even grander, as if you’ve stepped into the very heart of royalty itself. Enormous portraits of past queens and kings line the hall, each gaze strong and serene, as if they’re assessing every girl who dares to walk beneath their painted eyes. Somewhere in your chest, a knot forms and tightens. It’s strange, the feeling of being surrounded by so much opulence, as if the walls are watching, waiting for something that only they understand.

And perhaps that’s why your breath is so unsteady, why your heartbeat seems to echo through the hall in time with your footsteps. The palace, beautiful as it is, leaves you feeling like a creature of some lesser world, an intruder who has somehow wandered into a realm that does not belong to you. It’s not so much a place as a spectacle, a stunning, overbearing reminder of all that you must live up to, of all the scrutiny you’ll face from these grand walls, these glittering chandeliers, and yes, the very Queen herself. Every step feels like you are walking deeper into a lion’s den, where your every move will be scrutinized, your worth as a young lady judged by the sharpest eyes in the kingdom.

You move with the other debutantes, each girl dressed in white, adorned with jewels and delicate veils, the picture of youth and grace. The line seems to stretch forever as you wait your turn to be announced. The air is thick with anticipation, the rustle of satin and silk as the ladies murmur quietly to one another, some excited, others as nervous as you feel. Your own dress, despite its beauty, feels like a trap. The corset restricts your every breath, and the weight of expectation presses on your shoulders like a leaden cloak.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you scan the room, your nerves growing worse by the second. And then, in the far corner, you spot them. Minghao stands with an air of composure, his eyes quietly observing the room, his presence as regal as ever. Your brother watches the proceedings with a detached elegance, his eyes flickering over the debutantes without much interest. His gaze flicks to you, and for a moment, you feel a strange sense of calm knowing your brother is watching.

But next to him, is Seokmin.

He stands taller than most, his posture rigid but his face warm, though tinged with concern. While your brother is a portrait of his birthright and title, Seokmin is different. His gaze is sharper, more intent, and when his eyes find yours, the familiar comfort of his presence makes your heart stutter. You try to remind yourself to breathe, but the memory of his touch, his words, from the night prior clings to you like a shadow.

Seokmin’s expression softens when he sees you, and for a moment, the whole room seems to fall away. His lips quirk in a small, reassuring smile, and though you try to return it, your own face feels tight, your nerves too frayed to muster anything convincing.

As if sensing your unease, Seokmin’s eyes narrow with concern. Does he notice how your corset presses too tightly into your ribs? Or how your eyes are puffy from lack of sleep? The warmth in his gaze is mixed with a flicker of something unreadable, something almost protective. You are painfully aware of his gaze, and the thought of him watching you stumble through this day feels like too much to bear.

The line of debutantes inches forward, each young lady presented with grace and poise, or at least, the appearance of it. Your nerves churn violently in your stomach as your name is finally called. Your mother tightens her grip, ever so slightly, and it’s a silent reminder – You are a Xu. Do not falter. 

“Miss Y/N Xu, sister of the Duke of Somerset,” the herald crows, and every eye in the room fixes on you. “Presented by her mother, the Right Honorable Dowager Duchess of Somerset.”

Your legs feel like jelly as you take your first step forward, your skirts swishing around you. The weight of the gown, the tightness of your corset, and the heavy stares from all corners of the room press down on you. You try to steady your breathing, but the corset refuses to allow for even that small comfort.

Just as you take a step, disaster strikes.

Your heel catches on the hem of your gown.

You stumble forward, arms flailing slightly to catch yourself, but the weight of your skirts and the tightness of your corset make it impossible to recover gracefully. A collective gasp echoes through the room, and you feel your cheeks flush with mortification.

The whispers are instant, rippling through the crowd like wildfire. You can feel the stares—sharp, judgmental, unforgiving. Your mother’s grip tightens, and though she says nothing, you can feel her disapproval radiating through her hold. She doesn’t need to scold you—not in public. But the sting of her disappointment is enough to make you want to shrink into the floor.

Still, you manage to regain your footing, if only barely. You take a shaky breath and continue forward, your knees trembling with each step. But it gets worse. With every move, the corset seems to tighten further, squeezing the breath from your lungs until black spots dance in the corners of your vision.

Just as you’re about to curtsy before the Queen, your knees buckle.

A choking cough rips from your throat, loud and desperate, echoing through the grand hall. You’re bent over at the waist, gasping for breath, your corset pressing tighter with every moment. You cough again, and again, unable to stop, your eyes watering as you struggle to compose yourself.

The Queen, perched on her throne in all her regal glory, watches with a raised eyebrow, her disapproval palpable. Her expression is one of distaste, as if you are a spectacle—an amusing disaster.

Your mother murmurs beside you, “Steady yourself,” and her grip tightens with fury and disappointment in equal measure. It’s too late. Your corset has robbed you of the ability to breathe, and the weight of the entire room’s gaze crushes you. Your vision swims again, and for one horrifying moment, you think you might faint right there in front of the Queen.

Finally, you manage to straighten yourself, gasping for air, your face flushed and tear-streaked. You risk a glance toward the far side of the room, where Minghao and Seokmin still stand.

Minghao’s face is impassive, though his eyes are dark with what could only be disappointment. Seokmin, on the other hand, looks as though he might bolt across the room to help you. His hands clench at his sides, his jaw tight as his eyes flick between you and the Queen.

The Queen’s cold, cutting voice slices through the silence. “Miss Xu,” she says slowly, her tone dripping with disapproval. “It seems you are... unwell.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach. You manage a wobbly curtsy, your knees nearly giving out beneath you again as you lower yourself.

“Perhaps Miss Y/N should reconsider her readiness for society,” the Queen continues icily. “A young lady of such delicate constitution may not be suited for the rigors of court.”

Her words land like a blow. You rise slowly, trying to keep your chin held high, though your hands tremble and your vision remains blurry from the humiliation. All you want is for this moment to end. To disappear.

As you retreat, the whispers rise in volume, filling the grand hall with gossip and speculation. You can feel the weight of every gaze on you, every judgment passed in an instant. But it is Seokmin’s gaze that you search for in the crowd. His eyes meet yours, and though they are filled with concern, they are also gentle, understanding. A small comfort in the midst of your disaster.

Your mother, ever composed, whispers to you as she leads you from the room, her voice calm but firm. “We will speak of this later, darling. But for now, we must leave with grace.”

You nod weakly, still too breathless and embarrassed to respond. And as you step out of the grand hall, the day that was supposed to mark your entrance into society feels like anything but. All you can think about is how miserably everything went wrong—and how, even in the midst of it all, Seokmin’s gaze had found yours, steady and unwavering.

The silence presses on as the carriage trundles through the city streets, each wheel hitting the cobbles with a sound like a hammer to your heart. You’re trapped, here in this carriage, with no escape from your mother’s disappointment or the day’s memories—the whispered laughter, the blunder before the Queen, and the sheer, unbearable heat of your mortification.

Minghao’s hand rests over yours for only a heartbeat, but it’s enough to keep you from crumbling entirely. Though he releases your hand quickly to avoid Mama’s watchful eye, the gesture is enough to ground you, pulling you back to this place instead of letting you spiral into all the things you could have, should have done differently.

At last, your mother clears her throat, a carefully composed sound that cuts through the quiet like a knife.

“Well,” she says, her voice clipped and precise, “that was… quite the spectacle.” Her tone is a blend of disappointment and a tight, forced restraint. “I had hoped, naturally, for a… more dignified presentation.”

You swallow, feeling the flush of embarrassment burn anew. “I—” you start, but the words catch, failing under the weight of everything you wish to explain and the knowledge that no explanation will undo what’s done.

She adjusts her gloves with a sharp, precise tug, a calculated movement that somehow manages to convey her frustration without a single word. “I trust,” she begins slowly, every syllable measured, “that you understand the gravity of today’s events.”

You swallow, focusing on the intricate embroidery of your gown, tracing the delicate threads to distract yourself from the pressing sting of her words.

“Mother, I—” you stammer, but she holds up a gloved hand, silencing you before the words even form.

“We spent months preparing for this moment,” she continues, her voice tight with restrained emotion. “Months, to ensure you would have the debut any young lady of our family should. Your dress, your bearing, every detail was attended to so you would represent us with grace, with decorum. And yet, today…” She trails off, her eyes gliding over you with a look that could curdle milk.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Minghao interjects quietly, and though his tone is gentle, there’s a faint edge to his words, as though even he cannot quite hold back his defense. He shoots a quick, sidelong glance at you, a small, reluctant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The Queen’s hall was suffocating, and the entire affair was clearly designed to unnerve anyone in attendance.”

Your mother’s expression softens just a fraction as she regards her son, but she’s hardly swayed. “The Queen’s hall has been the site of countless debuts. If anything, the occasion called for composure, not… fainting spells.”

You clench your fists, the fabric of your dress twisting between your fingers, and look resolutely at the floor. As painful as it is to hear, you know your mother is not entirely wrong. Today was supposed to be your moment of triumph, the day you stepped forward as a young woman ready for society, carrying your family’s reputation with poise and dignity.

But instead, you remember the heat that had pressed in from all sides, the feeling of your corset cutting into your ribs, how your hands had trembled with each step. It was supposed to have been an easy task, to walk forward, cursty, and meet the Queen’s gaze with calm respect. And yet, you had felt every gaze upon you like a burn, each stumble echoing through the endless hall. And then, Seokmin’s eyes finding yours, calm and steady…

The memory stirs something warm within you, a faint flicker of relief that somehow dampens the embarrassment. The Queen’s gaze may have been unyielding, your mother’s disappointment all-consuming, but for that one moment, you had felt tethered, no longer alone.

Outside, the sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the city as the carriage continues its steady roll homeward. The silence stretches again, and the weight of it settles around you like an invisible veil. Minghao catches your eye, and though he says nothing, the look he gives you speaks volumes—a quiet reassurance, a reminder that this one day does not define you, that he still believes in you despite every misstep.

Your mother finally sighs, a faint softening in her shoulders. “We’ll regroup,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “There will be more opportunities, of course, but we’ll need to be mindful, thoughtful. A second chance may not be as kind.” She glances at you, and though her expression remains stern, there’s a glimmer of something almost like understanding.

The carriage ride stretches on in silence once more, each of you lost in thoughts. You glance out the window, watching the city roll by, lanterns casting fleeting golden glows against the carriage walls. It feels surreal, how a day so longed for turned into a series of mishaps, one after another. But as the carriage rounds a corner, you catch a memory from earlier: Seokmin’s eyes, grounding you, unwavering, somehow knowing how terrifying each step felt, how every misstep seemed amplified beneath the weight of so many watching.

As the carriage wheels finally begin to slow, approaching the gates of your family estate, you feel a shift within yourself. Today may have been a disaster, and yet, Seokmin’s gaze and Minghao’s quiet support linger, like small anchors in the storm of the day.

The drawing room is a sanctuary of elegance, its ornate moldings and rich fabrics designed to impress. Tall windows frame the view of the manicured gardens outside, sunlight pouring through in golden streams that dance across the polished wooden floor. Yet, despite the beauty surrounding you, it feels more like a gilded cage today. The delicate scent of lavender from the nearby vase does little to soothe the turmoil within.

You sit hunched over a needlepoint project, your fingers fumbling with the bright threads that feel foreign against your skin. The canvas before you, a swirl of colors and patterns, seems to mock your inability to focus. Your mind wanders far beyond the needlework, replaying the events of your disastrous debut like a never-ending nightmare. Each time you think of it, a fresh wave of humiliation washes over you, sharp and unyielding, like a thorn that refuses to dislodge itself from your heart.

“Goodness, how is one expected to focus with this nonsense?” you mutter under your breath, the needle slipping from your fingers yet again and leaving a careless knot in the thread. You curse softly, frustration bubbling to the surface.

Your mother sits comfortably in her armchair, her brow slightly furrowed as she loses herself in the pages of a novel, the rustle of paper punctuating the silence. Minghao lounges on the settee across from you, flipping through a collection of sketches, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement at his artistic efforts. Every so often, his gaze flickers towards you, a mixture of concern and curiosity etched into his features, but he respects your silence, understanding that you are still recovering from the scarring events of your debut into polite society.

Just then, the door swings open, and Seokmin steps into the room, his presence a burst of light that seems to chase away the shadows clinging to your thoughts. It has been years since the butler last announced his arrival—his visits are far too frequent now, and you can’t help but feel a mix of warmth and apprehension at his entrance. His usually buoyant demeanor is tempered by a trace of concern as he takes in the scene before him, the way your shoulders droop as if weighed down by invisible chains.

“Good morning!” he declares, his voice bright yet careful, testing the waters of your melancholy. “I do hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” your mother replies, glancing up from her book, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “In fact, you may be just what our dear girl needs.”

You offer a small, half-hearted smile, the corners of your lips barely lifting. “And what would that be? A distraction or a dose of reality?”

Seokmin approaches, his smile as warm as the sunlight flooding the room. “A bit of both, if you’ll allow me.” He perches himself on the arm of your chair, leaning in just enough to draw your focus from the needlepoint chaos. “That was quite the debut you had, dear friend. How are you holding up?”

“Barely,” you sigh, tossing the errant needlepoint aside as if it were the source of all your woes. “I feel as if I’ve stumbled through a door marked ‘exit’ into an abyss of mortification.”

His eyes widen with sympathy, and in that moment, your heart flutters, torn between admiration and the painful reality that he may never feel the same. Seokmin has a way of making the world feel lighter, yet your feelings for him are a weight that often threatens to pull you under.

“Ah, yes,” he nods sagely, as if you have just shared the most profound wisdom. “The abyss of polite society can be quite unforgiving. I believe it’s marked with ‘no entrance’ signs, but alas, they are easily overlooked.”

Minghao chuckles softly, his attention now fully diverted from his sketches. “You do have a gift for exaggeration, Seokmin.”

“It’s a talent,” Seokmin replies, feigning an air of grandeur, his hand pressing dramatically to his heart. “But truly, do not let the Queen’s judgment define you. You are far too radiant for that.”

You snort, the sound escaping before you can suppress it. “Radiant? Is that what you call it when one trips over their own gown and nearly faints in front of our sovereign?”

“Why, yes! A splendid display of athleticism!” he shoots back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ve inadvertently entertained a room full of people—something they are certain to remember for ages.”

“But not in the way I had hoped,” you reply, frustration seeping into your voice as the memory of the evening flashes before your eyes, a storm of embarrassment churning within you.

“Ah, but hope can be a slippery creature,” he counters, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “What matters is how you choose to move forward. I have heard of many a lady whose debut was marred by similar accidents—yet they rise from the ashes like phoenixes, dazzling everyone with their resilience.”

“Is that your way of saying I should make a grand return to society?” You raise an eyebrow, your heart flickering with the suggestion. “Perhaps adorned in feathers and sequins to distract from my previous mistake?”

“I’d be the first to support such a feat,” he replies earnestly, the sincerity in his voice a soothing balm for your frayed nerves. But beneath your amusement lies an aching truth: his encouragement only highlights the chasm between your feelings and his indifference. He will never look at you the way you long for.

“Yes, Lord Lee, what a wonderful idea!” your mother exclaims, her book long forgotten. “The Fitzwilliam Ball is to be held in the coming weeks—what a splendid way for our darling girl to re-enter society!”

Your face falls. A ball? So soon? The very thought sends a tremor of panic racing through you. “Mama, I—”

“Yes, Mother, a splendid idea indeed,” Minghao muses, a teasing glint in his eye. When you turn your glare to him, he sticks his tongue out meanly, and Seokmin suppresses a chuckle.

You take a deep breath, fighting against the swell of anxiety rising in your chest. “I’m not certain I’m ready for another ball, not after—” you start, but the words die on your lips as Seokmin’s gaze locks onto yours. His expression is gentle yet determined, a silent encouragement that stirs something deep within you.

“Ready or not, life moves on,” he says softly, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “You have to take the reins, even if the prospect is daunting.”

You want to believe him, to embrace his unwavering optimism, but doubt gnaws at you. Can you truly face another crowd, the whispers, the judgment? Your heart flutters erratically, caught in a tempest of affection and despair. Seokmin’s eyes shine with an earnestness that quickens your pulse, yet it only reminds you of the gulf that lies between your feelings and his casual indifference.

“Life indeed moves on,” you echo, your voice barely above a whisper, more to yourself than to anyone else. “But what if I stumble again? What if I make an even greater fool of myself?”

Seokmin’s smile falters for just a moment, replaced by a flicker of understanding that cuts through the air like a knife. “We all stumble, but that’s how we learn to rise,” he replies, his tone steady yet soft. “And besides, I’ll be there. I promise I’ll help you navigate any disaster.”

His words wrap around you like a lifeline, a flicker of hope igniting your heart. But as the warmth of his promise settles in, a cold weight begins to press upon you. You look into his eyes, searching for something more, but find only the steadfast gaze of a friend—someone who would catch you if you fell, but only as a friend.

“Right,” you murmur, the pain of acceptance settling in your chest like a stone, heavy and unyielding, a reminder of the distance between you.

The late evening light filters softly through the sheer curtains of your room, casting a warm glow that barely reaches the pile of books haphazardly stacked beside your bed. These books, filled with tales of love and adventure, have provided a much-needed refuge from the reality of your recent debut. For days now, you’ve chosen to cocoon yourself in their comforting embrace, avoiding the whispers and curious glances of society that followed you after your disastrous introduction.

You had resolutely refused to attend any of the society events your mother deemed essential—the lady’s tea, with its orchestrated conversations and veiled judgments, or the garden party, where laughter seemed to echo around you while you felt only isolation. The thought of facing the same debutantes, the same mamas, their glances lingering a moment too long on you, made your stomach churn. Instead, you preferred the solace of your room, the pages of your books offering both distraction and comfort as you lost yourself in worlds far removed from the judgmental eyes of the ton.

But tonight, your mother is insistent. At last, the Fitzwilliam Ball is upon you, and you have no escape from your mother’s gentle chiding. “Darling,” she calls gently, her voice a melody that pulls you from the pages of your latest escape. The delicate scent of lavender wafts through the air as she steps into the room, her presence commanding yet warm. It is an unusual moment—your lady’s maid typically oversees your dressing, managing the layers of fabric and the intricate details of your ensemble. But today, it is your mother who steps into that role, a significant act that carries with it the weight of her affection and a chance to bridge the gap that your previous missteps had created.

“It’s time to get ready, my dear,” she says, her tone gentle but firm, as she approaches your wardrobe. As she opens the doors, the sight of your gown hanging inside takes your breath away.

The dress, an ethereal creation of lavender silk, shimmers like moonlight trapped in fabric. The bodice is adorned with intricate embroidery that depicts delicate vines and blossoms, each stitch telling a story of artistry and care. The sleeves are fitted, with lace cascading down to create a soft ruffle at the wrist, and the skirt flows in layers, each tier of lace and silk billowing like clouds as it moves. It is a gown befitting a princess, meticulously designed to showcase your family’s esteemed standing while allowing a hint of youthful exuberance to shine through.

“This gown is truly magnificent,” you murmur, your fingers tracing the embroidered flowers as your mother gently lifts it from the wardrobe. “I can’t believe you chose it yourself.”

“Of course, I did. It’s time for your grand re-entrance to society, after all,” she replies, a smile dancing on her lips as she helps you into the gown. The fabric wraps around you like a dream, soft and luxurious, but as your mother laces the bodice, the realization of how tightly it pulls leaves you breathless. Each tug of the laces feels like a reminder of the expectations that have come to define you, but your mother’s presence softens the edges of that pressure.

Yet, it is not discomfort that fills the room. Instead, the sounds of your mother’s laughter and intelligence wrap themselves around you. Your mother’s hands are gentle as she fastens each lace, her fingers brushing against your skin in a manner that reassures you. The stern disappointment of your debut, where you felt like a shadow beneath the weight of expectations, seems to dissipate, replaced by her usual grace and kindness. As she works, her voice drifts like a melody, recounting stories from her own youth, her laughter echoing softly against the mirror as if the memories bring light to the room.

With every loop of ribbon and every gentle tug, she weaves a tapestry of love and support, a tangible reminder that tonight is not merely a duty but a celebration of who you are. As she arranges your hair into an elegant updo, delicately weaving in pearl pins that glimmer like stars, you catch a glimpse of the woman she has always been beneath the layers of propriety. The warmth of her presence washes over you, igniting a flicker of hope that perhaps tonight will mark a new beginning.

“Are you ready?” she asks, stepping back to admire her handiwork, a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

“I suppose as ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply, taking a moment to admire your reflection. The gown transforms you into a vision of beauty, yet beneath the surface, you feel a tempest of uncertainty swirling within you.

“Now, let’s see what your brother thinks.” Your mother gestures toward the door, and as you descend the staircase, your heart quickens with every step.

At the foot of the stairs, Minghao waits patiently, the embodiment of duty and familial pride. His presence, regal and calm, adds to the moment’s gravity. Dressed in a tailored coat that accentuates his stature, he stands as the dutiful son and duke, ready to escort both you and your mother to the ball. The contrast between his composed demeanor and your own fluttering heart is stark, yet comforting. As you make your way down the stairs, your mother’s gentle squeeze of your hand gives you a modicum of strength, each step drawing you closer to the world outside that awaits your return.

“Sister,” Mighao greets, mirth dancing in his eyes. “I suppose if tonight is your big night, this gown does not offend the eyes.”

“Minghao!” Your mother’s rebuke is instant, a gentle reprimand that lightens the atmosphere with her authority.

“For goodness’ sake, brother,” you admonish, donning a façade of false bravado to hide the anxiety swirling within. “It seems as if you would simply keel over before you ever paid me a proper compliment!” You attempt to feign indignation, but the corners of your mouth betray you with the hint of a smile.

As you reach the bottom step, he extends his arm, a silent invitation to escort both you and your mother to the ball. It’s a gesture of duty, but there’s an undertone of affection that brings warmth to your heart. He may be the dutiful son and duke, poised and impeccably dressed in his tailored attire, but in this moment, he is simply your brother—standing beside you as a steadfast protector against the uncertainties of the evening ahead.

Your mother glances at both of you, her eyes sparkling with pride and a hint of nostalgia. “Shall we?” she prompts, her voice carrying a note of excitement that sends a flutter through your stomach.

With a deep breath, you take Minghao’s arm, feeling the reassuring strength of his presence as he leads you both toward the waiting carriage. The air outside is brisk, filled with the scent of blooming jasmine and the distant hum of music preparing to fill the grand halls. Each step you take resonates with the rhythm of your heartbeat, a mix of trepidation and hope.

As you settle into the plush interior of the carriage, the door closes with a soft click, sealing you away from the familiar confines of home and ushering you into a world of possibility. The grandeur of the evening awaits, and as the carriage rolls forward, the cobblestones beneath you echo with the anticipation of what’s to come.

You can’t shake the feeling that this night holds the promise of something new—perhaps redemption, or at the very least, the opportunity to reclaim your place among the society that had once felt so cruel. As the carriage sways gently with each turn, you steal a glance at your mother and brother, their expressions a blend of excitement and encouragement. In this moment, surrounded by their unwavering support, you begin to believe that maybe, just maybe, tonight could be different.

Fate is certainly a cruel mistress—despite your greatest hopes, the ball is positively dismal.

The ballroom is every bit as grand as you’d imagined—no, grander. Chandeliers dripping with golden light cascade overhead, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the polished marble floor. The air is thick with the intoxicating scent of roses and jasmine, mingling with the lively music of the orchestra, where violins soar and the occasional trill of laughter punctuates the harmony. Silks and satins swirl in every direction as the season’s debutantes twirl with their suitors, their gowns a riot of color that makes you feel like a ghost in comparison.

But none of it feels as magical as you once thought it would. Instead, you stand to the side, clutching the silk of your gown, its intricate lace and delicate pearls feeling like a weight rather than a luxury. Your mother had ensured that every stitch was perfect, every detail immaculate, to help erase the memory of your disastrous debut. Yet, it hasn’t worked. The whispers haven’t stopped. Even here, amidst the splendor, you can feel the gazes sliding over you, only to dart away, as if your very presence is a reminder of your failure.

The other debutantes are radiant, their smiles bright as they are swept onto the dance floor by handsome, eligible gentlemen. But you... you might as well be invisible.

Your heart sinks as you watch them, a heavy weight settling in your chest. This is meant to be a night of joy and celebration, yet you feel like a fragile glass ornament left behind, forgotten in the bustle of a festive occasion. The laughter and music create a vibrant tapestry of life around you, but inside, you’re drowning in a sea of insecurity and self-doubt.

Just when despair threatens to envelop you entirely, a presence beside you breaks through the haze. Seokmin, as effortlessly charming as ever, sidles up, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Quite the spectacle, isn’t it?” he remarks, his voice low so only you can hear. “I’m certain some of these mamas could lead an army with the way they maneuver their daughters.”

You blink at him, surprised by his lightheartedness. Despite the heat of embarrassment burning your cheeks, a smile pulls at your lips, momentarily pushing aside the shadows clouding your heart.

Before you can respond, he holds his hand out to you, a silent invitation, and for a moment, you hesitate. Seokmin, who could have any lady in the room, is asking you to dance? Your heart stutters, a wild flutter of hope mingling with anxiety, and you glance around, acutely aware of the whispers beginning to stir again. People are noticing the exchange, their eyes narrowing in speculation. But Seokmin stands before you, his hand outstretched, waiting with an easy confidence that momentarily disarms you.

With a deep breath, you place your gloved hand in his, and he leads you to the center of the ballroom as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The moment your feet hit the floor, however, the murmurs begin in earnest, slicing through the enchantment that had briefly settled around you.

“Isn’t that the girl?” someone whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. “The one who fainted?”

“I’d heard,” another voice chimes in, “that no one would ask her to dance. Poor dear, but what did she expect after such a performance?”

You keep your eyes firmly fixed on Seokmin, but each word is like a needle, sharp and painful, pricking at your composure. The worst of it comes when you catch sight of one of the mamas, her face set in a smirk as she whispers to her daughter—the same daughter you had once taken pianoforte lessons with. The girl lets out a small, mean-spirited laugh, and your stomach twists, the laughter echoing like a death toll.

The memory of your debut hangs over you like a dark cloud, heavy and suffocating. Your embarrassment simmers, threatening to boil over. The murmurs become unbearable, and instinctively, you move to pull away from Seokmin, ready to flee. But before you can, his grip tightens, firm but gentle.

“Leaving so soon?” he teases, his voice low and playful, a lifeline in the midst of the storm. “Didn’t your mama teach you it’s bad manners to leave in the middle of a dance?”

You try to focus on his words, on the feel of his hand in yours, but it’s no use. You feel like every eye is on you, dissecting your every movement, judging, whispering, laughing. Seokmin is a shield, but he can’t block all the venom aimed at you.

“I can’t—” you begin, your voice thick with emotion, but Seokmin cuts you off.

He reaches up, loosening a perfectly pinned curl from your hair, letting it fall gently by your cheek. His eyes are soft, almost tender, and in that moment, you feel something flutter to life in your chest. “Eyes on me, Tulip,” he murmurs, and the way he says it—so calm, so sure—makes your heart skip a beat.

For the briefest moment, you think he might love you. That despite the gossip, despite the humiliation, Seokmin sees you—the girl beneath the debutante, the one who has admired him from afar for so long. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Minghao. He stands by the edge of the ballroom, watching. And then—he nods. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but Seokmin notices, and he nods back.

Your blood runs cold.

You blink up at Seokmin, the warmth in your chest turning to ice. “Did you do this because Minghao asked you to?” The words slip out before you can stop them, low and desperate, laced with betrayal.

Seokmin’s brow furrows. “Do what?”

“This. The dance.” You glance around at the swirling crowd, the eyes that have never left you. “The attention. Did you ask me because he wanted you to? To salvage my prospects?”

His confusion is genuine, but the truth is written in his face—open, honest, and devastating. He hesitates, and it’s all you need to know.

“Damn you,” you whisper, voice shaking with fury and hurt. His eyes widen, shocked by the venom in your voice, the curse slipping from your lips like something foreign. “Damn you, Lee Seokmin.”

“Y/N—” he starts, his voice softening, trying to explain, to defend himself. But you don’t give him the chance.

“I thought,” you continue, the words tumbling out in a rush, “I thought you asked me because you wanted to, not because you were told to. I thought you held me in higher regard than this.” You laugh bitterly, a sound that catches in your throat. “How foolish of me.”

The onlookers are whispering more now, their curiosity piqued by the tension in the air, the way your voice trembles with barely contained emotion. But you don’t care. You’re done caring.

With a mocking curtsy, you drop your hands from his and step back. “My lord,” you say, dripping with sarcasm, “I do apologize for any inconvenience to your social standing.”

Seokmin’s eyes widen, panic flashing in them as he realizes the gravity of your words, the weight of what you’re about to do. “Y/N, wait—”

But you don’t wait. You turn on your heel and stalk toward the ballroom’s exit, your skirts swirling around you in a flurry of lilac silk and lace, your heart pounding painfully in your chest. The gasps and murmurs of the guests fade into the background as you flee, your vision blurred with unshed tears.

Behind you, Seokmin’s voice calls out, desperate, pleading. “Y/N, please—stay—”

But you don’t look back. You run.

The chill of the night air bites at your skin as you emerge from the grand ballroom, the sounds of the festivities quickly swallowed by the night. Minghao is hot on your heels, and you hear the familiar click of his shoes echoing against the cobblestone streets. As you enter the carriage, your fury erupts like a dam breaking.

“How dare you meddle in my life?” you exclaim, the words bursting forth with a fervor that sends a shiver down your spine. The tears spill over, mingling with the delicate fabric, each droplet a testament to your exasperation. “I wish to be left alone!”

Minghao, ever the picture of serene composure, raises an eyebrow, though his calm demeanor only serves to ignite your temper further. “I’m only trying to help you, dear sister,” he replies, his voice as soothing as a summer breeze.

“Help? Is that what you call this? You think I’m some delicate flower that requires your constant tending?” Your heart beats faster, each pulse an echo of your indignation. “You are not my keeper, Minghao!”

He opens his mouth, surely to deliver some well-meaning retort, but you are not in the mood for restraint. “You think I can’t manage my own affairs? That I need you to dictate who I should associate with? Let me remind you, I am not a child!”

In a fit of fury, you throw one of your shoes toward him, the delicate slipper soaring through the air; Minghao ducks just in time, the shoe landing with a soft thud against the carriage wall.

“Is this truly your idea of a civilized discussion?” he remarks, feigning offense. “Throwing footwear instead of engaging in rational discourse? My, how you’ve mastered the art of temper tantrums!”

“Better to throw a shoe than to be lectured like a schoolgirl!” you counter, your voice rising to match his. “You presume to know what is best for me, but you are merely reflecting your own apprehensions! You have no concept of my struggles!”

Minghao’s brow furrows, and for a fleeting moment, his expression softens, as if he might relent. But then he leans forward, his voice low and fervent. “And you believe that sulking in the corner will resolve anything? You are only isolating yourself further!”

“Perhaps I wish to be alone!” you declare, your voice ringing with defiance, the words spilling out like water from a broken dam. “Perhaps I grow weary of this charade, that everything is perfect when it is most decidedly not!”

A tense silence envelops the carriage, the air thick with unspoken words. You both breathe heavily, the conflict hanging between you like a fine silk thread ready to snap. The rest of the ride is steeped in a heavy silence, each passing moment thickening the air with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You lean against the plush seat of the carriage, your gaze fixed on the world outside. The blurred lights of the city flicker past, dimming into the encroaching darkness, and with each glimmer that fades from view, a piece of your heart seems to shatter.

Inside, your thoughts spiral. Betrayal gnaws at you like a ravenous beast, devouring any remnants of confidence you had managed to muster before the ball. Seokmin was supposed to be your ally in this fight, your so-called “loyal servant”; a beacon of warmth amidst hushed whispers. Yet now, as the reality settles in, you realize he is merely Minghao's friend, not yours. 

How could you have been so naïve? Your mind races back to moments you once cherished: the laughter shared over private nicknames, the comfort of his presence when you felt small and insignificant. He had danced with you, yes, but it had been an act of duty, an obligation to your brother, not a genuine desire to hold you close. You had hoped, foolishly, that he might look beyond your failed debut, that he might understand the person beneath the gown and lace. Yet here you are, reduced to a mere pawn in a game you didn’t even want to play.

A sob catches in your throat, but you swallow it down. Instead, you grip the edges of your gown tightly, feeling the intricate lace and delicate pearls dig into your palms, until you are sure you will have bruises in the morning.

How could Seokmin have allowed himself to be used this way? Did he not care enough to stand by you when it mattered most? He had seen you, yes, but only through the lens of loyalty to Minghao, not as the woman you wished to be, not as the friend you had thought he saw.

By the time the carriage arrives at your home, the bitterness in your chest is a wellspring of anguish. The vibrant ball is now a distant memory, a dream turned nightmare, and all you can do is silently mourn the friendship you thought would endure. You glance at Minghao, his face set in a mask of determination, oblivious to the storm of emotion swirling inside you.

As you step out of the carriage, he follows closely behind, his footsteps heavy with regret. “Y/N,” he begins, his voice low and earnest, “I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought—”

You cut him off, spinning to face him, your expression fierce with hurt. “It’s too late, brother,” you declare, the words like shards of glass spilling from your lips. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. You’ve ruined everything.”

His eyes widen, a mixture of shock and remorse flooding his features. “I never meant to hurt you—”

“It doesn’t matter what you meant!” you snap, frustration and pain intertwining in a chaotic dance. “You acted without thinking. You’ve taken something precious from me.”

Minghao opens his mouth to argue, to defend himself, but the words die on his lips. The truth hangs in the air, heavy and palpable, as the reality of your fractured trust settles between you.

For the rest of the season, you do your best to blend into the walls at every ball, and you succeed. You become a shadow flitting between vibrant gowns and boisterous laughter. Each event becomes a blur of swirling colors and muffled sounds. You move quietly, navigating the sea of opulence with a heavy heart, wearing a mask of indifference that hides the turmoil brewing just beneath the surface.

You linger in corners, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns of wallpaper as if seeking solace in their delicate designs. The bright chandeliers above cast their warm glow on the happy couples swirling in perfect harmony, while you remain firmly anchored in your solitude, an invisible wall erected around your heart. You watch as others twirl and laugh, and your heart aches for Seokmin’s easy companionship, the lively conversations and playful banter that now feel like a distant memory.

With each passing ball, the weight of your isolation grows heavier. Minghao’s well-intentioned apologies echo in your mind, but their impact fades against the reality of your existence. You’ve become an expert at deflecting curious gazes, practicing the art of blending in so well that the laughter and music seem to wash over you like water off a duck’s back.

But it is Seokmin’s absence that echoes loudest in your heart. He might have always been your brother’s best friend, but you had hoped he would be something more—something real. As the music swells, the realization settles heavily on your shoulders: you are utterly, irrevocably alone.

Seokmin doesn’t ask you to dance again for the rest of the season. 

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

[kiryoutann]

i wanted to rant about simon.

what do you think so far like what are your actual headcanons for the canon simon vs this simon from this series?

my feelings about the actual simon is quite vague. i've read far more fanfictions than bothering with the actual material so my picture of his is not really...constant? idk

but with this simon, he scares me. just to think about people that can engage in such romantic and sensual acts with little to no feeling involved.

or the mc's father. her dad makes me feel such an anger and injustice that i don't know how to express it and i know we probably won't get a satisfying update on him.

you don't like your wife fine i could understand the distance between them, but how can somebody forget their child no matter if they share the same blood or not, after all the time he raised her

leaving all that behind just to start a whole new life. how can that not eat somebody alive

OHH this is actually a good question. honestly for me, simon is probably one of the hardest character to write about because he doesn't give away too much. too calm. too know-it-all.

we're just gonna talk about the romance aspects!

but based on my head-canon of the canon simon, he has those younger years where he avoids romance, but not this actively and aggressively. it's more because he has too much on his plate (anger management issues, PTSD, depression) than because he think he's not good enough for some happiness (but he also doesn't expect/hope for it.)

canon younger (probably 6-7 years after he killed Roba) Simon lives his life without the need for things to turn out in certain ways. as he gets older (yes, the 2022/2023 ghost) and better mentally, he's become a little more open to the idea, though.

he's still not actively seeking romance, settling on one-nightstands and things that don't require any strings attached. however, he's not completely closed off to the idea too. if he has someone he likes AND TRUST (this is already a high wall to get over), he might act on it. but again, not really actively pursuing it and knows he doesn't need it.

and this might come as a surprise, but he's actually the biggest flirt out there—well, at least when it's only the two of you. when in front of his taskforce, he goes back to acting like he's the calm, collected, cool, stoic, scary lieutenant that everyone knows. can't have you ruin his reputation, right?

"it's private but not secret," with him. though it's not loud PDA, sometimes he lets his hands linger in places like your waist, your hips, shoulders. his love language is act of service, gift giving, physical touch—he makes sure to always appreciate you with compliments and love affirmations, but he's never really a man who's big on words.

WHILE THIS SIMON, hmmm.. he's a bit more complicated. and a mess. at some point, you can think of him as the younger version of canon simon we just talked about to simplify it, but even that's not really accurate considering the different ways they handle "all that sappy stuff" (as simon would say). this one actively and AGGRESIVELY avoids romance.

and while they both (my ver. of canon simon and this simon) sort to flings and one-nightstands, the canon simon is more careful and actually follows the boundaries he draws himself. while this simon outlines the boundaries, follows his rules until an interesting bird enters his orbit, violates them, and destroys them himself before he goes around saying "you read that wrong, darling."

NOW, ABOUT THE FATHER. . .

RIGHT! in my opinion, it's better for them to get a divorce actually and Dad still plays a role in MC's life rather than just leaving her. like, i know it'll still hurt the MC but, at least she can still have both of her parents even though in different houses! at least she doesn't have to feel neglected in her childhood.

okay, you hate someone you thought you would love forever, but abandoning your child? whose very existence was created because of you? talk about the Dad will come up in the sequel. hell, he'll even make an appearance with his two ballet loving new daughters. imagine how MC will feel.

sadly, this happens a lot in real life. fathers leaving and starting a new life without thinking about his "old" family. how people shame single mothers but never the absent fathers. people shame many women who have "daddy issues" or call them "fatherless" yet never call out men's incapability of being a real, PRESENT father.

[bradshawed]

nine five albums that got me through 2024 (and some extras)!

this is so cool omg, thank you so much to my wife (@vampteeths) for the tag, i had sm fun! sorry for the essay and i think you'll find a slight recurring theme of indie, pop and indie-pop (with one or two surprises)!

1. the secret of us by gracie abrams, fav song: risk! released at the perfect moment & was exactly what i needed. makes u really realise that you're not alone and that so many others are going through similar experiences. this album to me, is perfection (don't get me started on how much i love the deluxe version)!

2. emails i can't send fwd: by sabrina carpenter, fav song: bet u wanna x i know u might be sick of hearing about sab but this album gave me so much confidence. it's sexy and emotionally validating at the same time. listening to this when ur overthinking about a boy and realising "wait a minute.. fuck him" is the best feeling, only second to listening to it as ur getting ready to go out

3. glass half empty by voilà, fav song: ballerina (with the word alive) indie rock ml, i've missed u! not a fan of all the songs on this album but of the ones i do like, i could listen to on repeat for hours. it's super energetic, great to have a song or two on any playlist to switch up the vibe and their lyrics really tell a story.

4. boy by luke hemmings, fav song: benny moving to something a little slower, calmer, great for a change of pace. really helped me through those moments when i needed to feel a little peace.

5. dreamers by charles leclerc and sofiane pamart, fav song: focus! you wouldn't expect to see me listening to a classical piano album but here we are. honestly fell in love with it sm so that it made it to my most listened to in 2024. incredibly composed, really emotional and grounding at the same time (also makes great background music).

6. MICO, fav song: tears in your eyes! it's not an album but an artist whose 2/3 songs i listened to religiously on repeat towards the end of 2024. honestly don't remember how i found him but i listened to one song and got hooked (if you hadn't realised i'm not a massive album person, i find a song, listen to it on repeat and find another, i rarely like full albums). i think i've been listening to homesick since july!

7. maneater by daryl hall & john oates and honey by coastal club struggled to think of a no. 7 but i can't believe i forgot this song duo that got me through late summer! i listened to a lot of my "trust fall" playlist (made for @sematarygirls) & my retro playlist and that song duo played on repeat for hours! (you can probs see that this year was big on confidence and maneater is the song).

8. beach weather, fav song: seth cohen another artist that i liked a few of their songs. hottest summer on record was great, even if we had the rainiest summer on record (but it was nice to dream). def one of my summer staples! idk why but it's just something about their beat that really has me relaxed, imaging my own obx summer (or maybe the name has something to do with it idk). pineapple sunrise (came out in 2023) was such a good album, i remember listening to sex, drugs, etc and hard feelings for ages!

9. what love is by zimmer90 does anyone else remember this song from 2023 that got really popular as an audio for those yearly wrapped reels? well, it's been on my liked songs since 2023 and got me through the start of 2024 so i believe that's a good reason as any to put it on the list (even if i never seem to remember what i listened to at the start of the year)!

...

tagging, @bruisedboys, @sematarygirls, @zya8tracks, @lilithblackkk, @dixonsbrat, @edwardslvrr, @fallininlust, @thyme-in-a-bubble and anyone else who would like to join x

[mentally-ill-for-bes]

So funny Viktor chooses to present himself to Jayce as a white-golden robot (considering it is shown he could possess one of his followers) despite his representative colors being purple and blue (during s2 arc 1 and arc 2 and as the Herald Machine). But for the very specific purpose of convincing Jayce to join him, he's represented in the colors associated with Mel. Literally CATWALKING into the room, which is an action associated with Mel too

[cute-little-fly]

Okay, it depends of what you mean by falling.

This is hard to know, bc Blitzø was blocking himself from feeling, and even if he felt love for Stolas since before he was in a deep denial of his feelings. He was burying those feelings inside him so not even him knows probably.

In my opinion, Blitzø started to have feelings for Stolas like after truth seekers. For me the feelings and attachment were already there, but they didn’t knew each other well and weren’t able to talk to the other without their masks. Besides, Blitzø blocking himself from feeling but at the same time being happy to be with Stolas without thinking in what was happening.

You can develop these feelings even if you don’t completely know the person well. This is how they were, having romantic feelings but without trully knowing the other.

However, this last month he has started to trully love Stolas beyond romantic feelings because now he sees the true Stolas without masks, titles or anything. He doesn’t have this idealized view of the powerful prince or the horny pompous rich with a fetish, now he sees he is a depressed lonely owl. Stolas has also been without his meds, so he has had crisis in front of Blitzø and he has seen all of that. He is seeing the true him and loving him each day more.

Now he is not just thinking in going to dates with him or have sex and going out to have fun, now he sees Stolas as family, as the person he thinks is the love of his life. For me it was a nice kinda expected surprise to see how much this dream of having this family meant to him. That now his feelings go beyond having a relationship Stolas.

For me, Stolas with his pupils means Stolas without masks. Now he sees Stolas without his mask. I wonder if they hide their pupils with magic, if the pupil elimination is a result of the magic itself or if it is a protection. Bc Via has her pupils present and she is super powerful, and Stolas had no pupils in his teen years and childhood; but most of the Goetias don’t have them… So Idk.

I haven’t recovered from this scene honestly. It hit me so hard.

Realise . . .

Real eyes . . .

Realize . . .

Blitz didn’t truly start falling in love with Stolas until after Stolas lost his status and became a commoner. That’s why Blitz envisions him with pupils, reflecting a shift in how he sees Stolas—not as a distant prince but as someone more grounded and relatable.

This familial scene could also serve as foreshadowing, potentially for events in Season 3 or 4.

[necrotic-nephilim]

as an apology for being gone for a month, have a uquiz i spent a week making! pls feel free to reblog with which character you got, i worked way too hard on this silly little thing. there are eight different characters you can get that are varying levels of unknown, with comic recommendations for each character <3

[sanjipussyindulgence]

this has been the mood so far watching lmk season 5 without subtitles.

[mai-hatsume]

spoilers for the new extra thing

ARE BKDKERS ALLERGIC TO FUN AND HAPPINESS?!?!?!???? the maybe fake extra stuff came out and whatever idrc ab bkdk being canon did we ever expect it??? it would be such a stupid move from horikoshi imo

anyways I was expecting the bkdkers to be like my eyes are closed im going to take the scenes from the extra and make it bkdk orrr I'm going to pretend this never happened and continue the regular bkdk content but ive genuinely never seen such heart breaking shit B4 I saw 2 animatics that literally broke my heart ab katsuki being rejected oh my god

it's just hurt no comfort coz why am I crying and why have I genuinely seen angst on angst on angst ab this and 1 post that was a happy bkdk one relating to the extra

[itspileofgoodthings]

ALSO I am learning how to teach very introverted students, something my natural skillset as a teacher does not help me with.

[astronomodome]

Feeling conflicted about the cyberpunk thingy impulse is going for because like yeah it’s a great theme and I like the aesthetics a lot but what I really like most about cyberpunk is the themes of corporate alienation and/or transhumanism etc etc which I know will not be addressed at all and in fact it’s kind of stupid of me to expect that at all from a minecraft series. Does anyone else get that or just me

[maburito]

Oh look a moment between Mizi and Hyuna, nothing to see here, just two girlfriends having a small argument that was Round 7

[lnmei]

I’m making a shortbox comic this year! I’m excited to share my first ever original comic hehe! It’s about workplace incidents, kind of… ✂️💥

[mellohiizz]

Just gonna say, Cc! Zam had thought that Serapter was his characters boyfriend and that they were dating because he had no context to his lines

WHAT????? zam oh my god 😭 this guy......