💌 › LOVE LETTERS I CAN'T SEND ♡ ── K-RECORDS EVENT MASTERLIST
🏹 ────── FORWARDED BY: K-RECORDS!
CC: TO OUR VALENTINES! ─────── 📩
dear lovers, all of our received letters have finally arrived! so, when given the chance, take some time to read the heartfelt messages sealed within these envelopes. best wishes, k-records.
ENVELOPE #1: MYSTERIOUS MESSENGER
FROM: RIANCA, @himewonu ♡ ADDRESSED TO: SEVENTEEN HHU
LETTER'S CONTENT: the night before valentine’s day, you decided to send out a form to every single crush you had for a youtube video. now you wake up to 4 new answers! who will be your valentine’s this year?
MYSTERIOUS MESSENGER ➤ UNSEAL THIS ENVELOPE?
ENVELOPE #2: CURSED LETTERS, I CAST YOU BEGONE!
FROM: GILL, @astrae4 ♡ ADDRESSED TO: BOYNEXTDOOR KIM WOONHAK
CURSED LETTERS, I CAST YOU BEGONE! ➤ UNSEAL THIS ENVELOPE?
ENVELOPE #3: LIFE IS LIKE A BOX OF CHOCOLATES
FROM: FAE, @ivehan ♡ ADDRESSED TO: BOYNEXTDOOR LEE RIWOO
LETTER'S CONTENT: riwoo tries to confess his love to his crush, how hard can that be! …right?
LIFE IS LIKE A BOX OF CHOCOLATES ➤ UNSEAL THIS ENVELOPE?
ENVELOPE #4: 𝒽opelessly devoted to you
FROM: MEI, @soubeomies ♡ ADDRESSED TO: BOYNEXTDOOR KIM LEEHAN
𝒽opelessly devoted to you ➤ UNSEAL THIS ENVELOPE?
ENVELOPE #5: dear. my darling
FROM: AYLIN, @starriniqhts ♡ ADDRESSED TO: BOYNEXTDOOR HAN TAESAN
LETTER'S CONTENT: taesan writes letters to his dearest darling - you.
dear. my darling ➤ UNSEAL THIS ENVELOPE?
ENVELOPE #6: Our Story, Always & Forever
FROM: MIRIS, @mirisss ♡ ADDRESSED TO: &TEAM NAKAKITA YUMA
Our Story, Always & Forever ➤ UNSEAL THIS ENVELOPE?
ENVELOPE #7: THE LETTERS I SHOULD'VE SENT
FROM: NINI, @lovehakie ♡ ADDRESSED TO: BOYNEXTDOOR KIM WOONHAK
LETTER'S CONTENT: he’s been writing to you for months, pouring every thought, every feeling, every secret into letters he never intended to send. and yet, one day, a single envelope appears in your locker — anonymous, delicate, unmistakably familiar. as you try to unravel who left it and why, you begin to uncover the quiet, unspoken love he’s carried all along, and the truth that some confessions can change everything.
TLISS PART 1: THE HABIT OF LOVING QUIETLY & TLISS PART 2: WHEN TIME RAN OUT ➤ UNSEAL THIS ENVELOPE?
ENVELOPE #8: 10:36
FROM: TOMIE, @beomtomie ♡ ADDRESSED TO: BOYNEXTDOOR MYUNG JAEHYUN
LETTER'S CONTENT: fake dating was one thing, actually falling in love was another.
10:36 ➤ UNSEAL THIS ENVELOPE?
› YOU'VE REACHED THE END! thank you for reading these letters from our beloved writers.
› WE HOPED YOU ENJOYED YOUR SWEET REPLIES! don't forget to show love to these individuals by liking, commenting, and most importantly, reblogging.
Reiterating my ai post, please do not interact with my blog if you utilize it. I’m sick of watching tumblr go to shit because of it. It’s gotten to a point where multiple of my mutuals and friends alike have threatened to quit tumblr, this is more serious than people are taking it!!
Specifically, I would like to point out one author that I’m disappointed to have learned might use ai.
BEFORE YOU READ : This is not made with ill intent at all, I simply don’t want to see this fandom fall to ai and have a sliver of hope that people can change for the better. This is only a suspicion, and I am aware of how serious of an accusation this is, but I am not the only one who sees it!!
User @/haeonniie posted a fic recently that contained a line that was unmistakably ai, and an anon rightfully called it out ( see it here ) :
The first thought that came to my head was: why would they do that? Yes, to test if people would read their fics, but why be known for ai usage if you agree that it’s harmful? This was the first red flag for me and my friend @taestulipss, (who has been a major help in this situation!!).
We both start off by sending an anon, very politely asking for the screenshots they offered. We were met with no reply, even though they were replying to other anons actively!
Rosy and I accepted we were going to be ignored, so instead we resorted to reblogging her post and asking her for the screenshot publicly, only hoping our suspicions would be squashed. We were still ignored.
Then their response came out, and it only made our eyebrows raise more.
You can absolutely get time stamps on instagram without having to scroll up to the beginning of a conversation, since there is a feature where you can swipe to the side and it displays the time a message was sent.
That alone makes their post seem off right off the bat. The screenshot they provided doesn’t seem authentic either, the conversation feels forced almost.
The conversation is abrupt, and that’s not something you come up with on the spot either. If you both brainstormed this previously, why not provide that screenshot instead? 
We decided to leave the issue alone, albeit being suspicious still. They had proof and a well written apology, but then we were sent screenshots from @coriihanniee that makes their whole post seem like a complete lie.
They outright stated they’ve used ai before to format a post, REALLY WEIRD! If you need to use ai to frame a masterlist what’s to say you don’t utilize it for your other content such as the fic itself too? With everything adding up, it doesn’t look good for their case.
This is only a suspicion, but it’s starting to seem like the truth every time something new comes out. Please be aware of the dangers of ai and educate yourself before engaging with it. It’s destroying our environment, taking jobs and crushing creative motivation for artists and writers alike.
I’m going to stress again that this call out post is in no way to send hate or negativity towards the author, nobody should be sending death threats AT ALL, that is completely unacceptable. This post is for awareness and that’s it.
If you guys have anything you want to add or talk about feel free to send me an ask or message me privately. I don’t expect hate for this post but I encourage everyone reading to have an open mind and understand my point.
♡ part of the love letters i can't send event by @k-records!
⋆｡°✩ pairing bf!taesan x gn!reader wc 1.776k tw implied character death, unspecified illness genre angst, hurt/comfort, fluff if you squint.
⋆˚꩜｡author's note here is my contribution to the valentine's day event hosted by k-records! jumped on the angst bandwagon bc we can't all be happy on the day of love /j anyway writing this made me tear up at 2 am. enjoy and happy (?) reading <3
⋆˙⟡ synopsis taesan writes letters to his dearest darling - you.
♬⋆.˚ listen to dear. my darling (boynextdoor).
⋆⭒˚.⋆ reblogs + feedback very much appreciated! ^^
letter 01.
dear y/n,
today is the first day of spring.
today will be the first time i welcome your favorite season without you next to me.
it feels surreal, not seeing your smile.
not seeing your messy hair in the morning.
not hearing you say my name, because no one knows how many times i've said yours.
last year, you made me wake up early. you were so excited for such a mundane day, pushing me out of bed into the freezing world only to drag me from park to park to see the flowers about to bloom. you pointed out every tiny bud, tinged sickly green at the bottom and pale shades of pink and yellow and red and orange at the top. the same shades of the countless mugs you kept in the cabinet over the stove.
i had to make you hot chocolate in those mugs when we arrived home soon after. you barely let me wrap my scarf around your neck. of course, you insisted on underdressing for the weather. it’s spring, you said. the season for new beginnings and rejuvenation. you were shaking like a leaf in the wind. did you mean to include the beginning of you becoming your own heater?
i didn’t think so.
you at least wore those socks. i nearly tripped over one of them this morning. the one with tiny strawberries embroidered around your ankle. the one you bought for us to match.
i don’t know where the other one is. did you take it with you?
ah… i started rambling.
i’m sorry.
i’ll keep my next letter short.
today is spring. i thought you’d like to know.
love, taesan.
letter 02.
dear y/n,
taesan junior came by last night.
it felt like he brought all the other stray cats in the neighborhood. the meowing outside the back door was so loud. i couldn’t stand it.
i never quite understood why you christened him with that name. i dont think we look similar at all. just because he’s a black cat and i have black hair doesn’t mean he’s my son. but i’ll humor your requests.
anyway. a part of me wanted to grab the water bowl and fill it up, but it’s dusty. it must be. and i don’t know where it is anymore. i know i said i’d repaint the little fishes on it for you, darling, but i lost it.
or maybe its in one of your boxes. either way, i don’t know where it is.
now that i think about it, maybe i could have dug it out.
but how could i tell them that the one who used to feed them isn’t here anymore?
love, taesan.
(the real one, not the cat.)
letter 03.
dear y/n,
i went to your favorite café today.
i know, i know. even i’m surprised. but jaehyun left so many missed calls, i thought my phone was broken at first. i kind of didn’t want to, but… i dont know why, to be honest.
i put on the cardigan you liked. at least, i think you liked it. you wouldn’t have asked me to wear it so often if you hadn’t, right?
our café has changed a little since i’ve last been here. they’ve put up a menu for their summer drinks now. but the barista didn’t even ask me for my order. she just waved me aside, so i followed her. imagine my surprise when i hear your name being called and your favorite drink sitting on the counter.
i wish you were here to take it.
i hated every second of it, you know? a part of me wants to hate jaehyun too. why did he have to make me go out and do that? he said it was “for your own good,” but i don’t believe him. “you’ve been cooped up in your apartment forever”? no, i haven’t. he’s lying just to get me to do this. it hasn’t been months, right? it hasn’t been months since you left me. he’s lying.
i wish you were here.
love, taesan.
letter 04.
dear y/n,
our home is so cold without you.
i miss you.
i wish you’d come back to me.
why did you have to go somewhere i can’t follow?
love, taesan.
letter 05.
dear y/n,
i cut my hair earlier today. it was around the same length as when we dyed it red. do you remember that? i do. you chose the color after seeing the leaves outside. we stayed up until 4 am that night, and we played music the entire time. we were so tired, but we did it anyway. we were laughing so much. you were so tired. i taught you how to tango. you almost slipped on the bathroom tiles, from the bit of water that spilled when you were wetting my hair. i reached out and took your hand to steady you, and i could feel you shaking.
i think i knew, even then.
i didn’t want to admit it to myself, maybe. it was so warm and cozy in our little sanctuary, but your hands shook ever so slightly, the entire night. when you were combing my hair and brushing dye over silver foil. was that the start of it all? i don’t know. i guess i’ll never know.
i could feel you shaking, and i think i told myself that i was just imagining things. i think i told myself that a lot, during those last few months. i’m just imagining, i’m just overthinking, it’s not that serious. it made sense. after all, you were fine, right? you were fine. you were happy and laughing and dancing to music in the middle of the night in our bathroom with me, and all i could think of in that moment was how i wanted to hear your laugh for the rest of my life. see your smile, see the brightness in your eyes even if it was just from the flickering fluorescent lights that the previous tenants left when they moved out. it looked like the stars, darling. you looked like you had the stars of the entire universe in your eyes, and i wanted to be a telescope peering up into the vast beauty of the sky.
the stars in the sky are in the past, after all.
maybe i still can.
love, taesan.
letter 06.
dear y/n,
tomorrow is the first day of spring.
taesan junior is sitting on the porch beside me.
he’s gotten so big now. you would have loved to see him. he’s all fluffy and chubby. i wonder who has been feeding him. surely it’s someone like you, full of life and love that never stopped giving to everyone around them.
sometimes i wonder if you gave so much that there wasn’t enough left for yourself.
you shouldn’t worry too much, though. i don’t think about things like that too much anymore. i’ve been spending more and more time with the boys. it was a bit awkward at first, i’ll be honest. but i think we’re getting closer and closer to how we used to be.
they all miss you very much.
i do too.
but i also look at the stars and passing stray kittens and blooming flowers and i can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, a small part of you will always stay with me no matter where you are. i think i like that idea. it’s a bit different from how i used to think, but it feels comforting.
i also found your letter yesterday. the one you left me. that was a very clever hiding place, darling. but i suppose it would have taken me this long even if it was right in front of my face.
anyway. i read it.
i just stared at this paper for five minutes. i don’t quite know what to say.
how about this: you don’t have to worry. i’ll be okay. it will take me a while, but i’ll be okay. and i know you’re okay, too.
that’s all for now. i’m running late to meet sungho and leehan, actually. i just wanted to tell you that i love you too, darling. i love you and i’ll watch the buds bloom for you.
love, taesan.
epilogue.
dear taesan,
hi, my love. ignore the shaky handwriting, please… writing this around an iv stuck in your arm is surprisingly more difficult than i thought it would be. but i have faith that you’ll be able to decipher these words. you’ve always been the one who understands me best.
can you understand that i have to leave too?
i worry about you so much. honestly, more than i worry for myself. you work so hard to take care of me, making sure i’m well rested and fed and happy, that i worry you forget to take care of yourself. when i’m not here, will you let everything crash and burn and fall?
please don’t, my love.
i’m writing because this is something i want to tell you in words, but i just don’t know how. when i’m gone, i’ll miss your hugs. i’ll miss your smile. i’ll miss the look in your eyes. i’ll miss breakfast and lunch and dinners with you and cooking and shopping and sleeping and waking up to see your messy hair and the way you kiss me when you’re sleepy and the way you kiss me when you’re mad and the way you kiss me when you want me to feel safe.
you’ve been doing that last one a lot lately.
i’m scared, i admit that. and i know i don’t have that much time left. but i hope that when i’m not here, you won’t be scared to face it alone. you have so much love and support around you. ask jaehyun to get a drink with you from our café. ask riwoo to come and do something artsy with you. ask woonhak to play games with you. or if you can’t ask, i’ll send them telepathic messages to do so. so when they do, accept, okay?
i hope you do. i hope you don’t just sit at home and watch the seasons go by.
speaking of seasons, i wish i could see the spring buds bloom again. we went last year, remember? i dragged you outside, i was so excited that i forgot to bring anything to keep me warm. you gave me your scarf, and then you made us hot chocolate.
i love you so much. i’ll miss you so much.
can you watch the flowers bloom for me?
love, y/n.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?
— 𝓂ei’s 𝓃ote : i literally procrasinated this one SO hard !! this was for the love letters i cant send event, hope u guys enjoyy
— 𝓌ord 𝒸ount : 1243
the way to the grocery store, your hands were tucked warmly in your pocket as leehans was tucked in his own. but you walked next to each other, shoulders touching. today was valentines day, the both of you were single and all of your friends were out for dinner with their own significant others. the both of you decided to just spend the night at his place, accompanied by a movie and maybe a sweet treat. that’s what brought you here, the grocery store.
the both of you walk into the grocery store, he grabs a shopping basket and hands his phone over to you with his notes app open. “here's the list.” he says, calm and composed, how he always sounded. you replied with a quiet nod as you took his phone in your hands. the note was titled “valentines list” and had a few things on there. “strawberries are first, for the chocolate covered strawberries.” you said to him, he nods in response walking to the fruit section.
as time went on, you read out the next thing after another. while you look at the screen for the next thing, you accidentally exited the note. you mean to click on the list again right away, but your eye caught something. his notes app was filled with notes that had titles like “draft” or “confession” all dated almost everyday for a month straight. all of them were written in the dead of night, probably when he thought a little too hard.
you click on one of them, everything around you starts to blur as you read it. it had some sort of confession letter, but the last word was cut off. he did not continue it, and there was still a new note he made the day after. it was the same, he didn't finish it, but it was rephrased each time. when you started to get focused on the words he typed, his voice took you out of your trance. “y/n, what's next?” he asks, unaware. your head shoots up from the screen of his phone, you swallowed and clicked back on the list. your voice was a little nervous, but you managed. “.. chocolates.”
.✦ ݁˖
the entire ride to his place, you were quiet. questions about what was in his notes app filled your head, you liked him too. but how would you tell him that you saw his entire month-long attempt at trying to confess to you? you swear you might faint on the spot at how crazy your head was spiraling. but again, he snaps you out of your trance. “y/n, you’re really quiet. what happened?” he asks, his voice curious. he was always observant, always paying attention to you like you were the only thing that existed to him. you shook your head, “its fine, just a little sleepy.” you said and he doesn't believe it one bit. “it's 8pm, are you really sleepy?” he asks skeptically, he knew something was up with you.
you nodded, and he didn't push it. he knew you probably had something to say, but it seemed you weren't ready to say it. the rest of the ride was quiet, but it wasn't awkward, not at all. it was a silence with comfort, one where the other's presence just felt warm.
arriving at his place, the both of you get out of the car, met by the cold air. he walks toward his doorstep, about to push the key into the keyhole before your voice cuts through the silence. “leehan,” you call his name, your voice was careful. he looks back, his key dangling on the keyhole. he stops everything he's doing, and part of him notices the difference in your voice. “huh? what's wrong?” he asks as he noticed how far away you were, he steps closer. you swallow, nervous, but you couldn't hold it in anymore. “i–i saw your notes.” your voice trembled a little in the cold, but you were sure. you were sure you wanted to know, you were sure that you were ready to listen to whatever he was gonna say.
his heart stops, he stops stepping closer as he stands a distance from you. it was like the whole world was a blur between the two of you, just your question that hung in the cold, quiet air. before long, he sighs. “you did?” his voice was laced with a little bit of disappointment. you nodded in response.
“i’m sorry y/n. i didnt mean to make it weird, you weren't supposed to see that yet–” he pauses before he takes a deep breath. “i wasn’t ready yet, i didn’t know how to tell you without ruining us..” he didn't realize it, but you were stepping closer before you wrapped your arms around him. you let out a relieved and content sigh. “gosh, you’re such an idiot.” you murmur into his jacket.
he freezes as he feels your hands wrap around him, at first, he's taken aback. he doesn’t know how to react, he doesn't even know what's going on. but before long, he wraps his own arms around you, gently rubbing your back like he always did. “i’m an idiot? what?” he asks, followed by a dry scoff. “i like you too.” you say. the words were quiet, but heavy with meaning.
his whole world stops as he pulls away to look into your eyes. “you do?” he asks, eyes expectant. you can almost see his lips curving into a smile. you nodded in response. “so.. can you say everything you've been trying to say for the past month?” he looks at you, his eyes turning into crescents as his smile grows on his face. you look at him fondly, god, you could get drunk on his smile.
“i like you y/n.” he starts, holding both your hands in his. he looks nervous, but excited. “i like you alot. i like how you make me feel warm. you make me feel like i've never before.” he said quietly, his words were careful. you smile at him, “mhm? really?” you ask. your own smile creeps onto your face. he nods, “yeah, i like you.” he says again like he would say it a million times to assure you that he likes you. “you like me?” you ask, a little bit more teasingly this time.
he smiles as he lets out a small and flustered laugh. “no, i love you.” he says, his voice laced with nothing but adoration for you. your smile grew as your thumb drew circles on his hand. “i love you too.” those words were all he wanted to hear from you, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he pulled you close and into his arms.
the both of you hugged each other for a while before pulling away as you spoke. “let’s go inside, chocolate covered strawberries are waiting!” you say before running past him and unlocking the door. he scoffs lightly in disbelief, he rushes after you. his heart felt full, his smile felt real. and for the first time, he was completely honest with you.
the night went on, an in the middle of making the chocolate covered strawberries he spoke. “did you read the last draft?” he asked. you nodded, a little confused. “i think so?” he smiles softly as he focuses on melting the chocolate, “that was probably the closest one.”
✧˚ ༘ 𝜗ৎ ⋆｡˚
the day he confessed to you was the most unforgettable day ever. he had prepared months prior confessing to you. it felt like a cliche, really. the flowers, the handwritten letter, the paper bag filled with things you loved, and most importantly, was the huge smile he was wearing. you miss it, a lot. things haven't been easy lately, his overwhelming schedule wiped that genuine smile right off his face.
he used to smile at you so brightly and surely, but now? you can sense the force and fatigue behind that smile. you know he was only smiling for your sake, for you not to worry about a single thing. he’d assure you every single second of his life that he was fine, that he was handling everything perfectly. “everythings under control!” he often said.
you doubted each word that slipped out of his mouth, it was tinged with a faint weariness. each time he assured you, you’d skeptically look at him, ask him again to make sure, and he’d answer the same each time. you didn't dare to keep pushing him, you knew that he was lying, but you didn't want to make him feel pressured to tell you everything right away.
✧˚ ༘ 𝜗ৎ ⋆｡˚
“you can tell me anything you know?” you said softly, peeking your head from the door in his dimly lit studio room. his chair slowly spins around to face you, the fatigue on his face evident. yet he still smiled at you, he looked up at you with that smile. you sighed as you entered his studio.
“hey baby,” he said, in the silence of the studio, his voice was weary, completely disregarding your assurance. you closed the door behind you before facing him. “you look exhausted.” you say, your voice calm, but your soul betraying every calmness in your being. all you wanted to do is to hug him right then and there, to tell him that you understood even without him telling you anything. he didn’t need to, you always knew.
a part of him said to tell you everything, while the other part of him said to keep everything to himself, the fear of burdening you was gnawing at him. your words hung in the air, silence hugging the both of you. after the moments of silence he speaks up, his shoulders sagging. “im a mess, y/n.” he started off quietly, he couldn't even meet your eyes. “fuck, i cant even think straight.” he said, his voice breaking at the last few words.
your heart ached, you felt his hurt and you wished you could just transfer it all to you. you’d take his hurt ten fold if that meant he would feel okay. but his words felt warm in your heart, it was like he was finally opening up, coming back home to you. you’d always need each other, always craving wherever you can feel each other's presence. you’d shut yourselves out, but come right back.
“i’m right here, jae.” you said silently, grabbing his hand, guiding him to stand up from his chair. as he stood, you wrapped your arms around him. tight, steady, like a rock that grounds him and his sanity. “god, i just wanna be near you.” he said, voice trembling. he buries his head into your shoulders, you felt his shoulders tremble as he sobbed in your arms. you reach to thread your fingers through his hair. “just let it out, i'm here for you baby.” your voice was a lullaby in his ears– a solemn lullaby amidst the chaotic world. he was tired of it all, but all he needed was you.
“i’m a mess, but i’m blessed to be stuck with you i love when youre around me, i love you so much.”
☆ to sum up 2025 we asked our net members which works they've created or read in this year were their favorites! with notes from them to readers, we hope to get to know each other closer!
☆ this event was insipred by izzy, admin of @neocity-net and @eighteez-net and all credits go to her, our dear affiliate <3
FAVORITE FICS WRITTEN & WHY
pretty boy (keeho) & like a sticker (shota) - both are really freaking cute and im proud i managed to capture such cute moments<3 esp soul and stickers,, thats a combo i love to death!!!
friends to lovers with piwon (ot6) - it took SO. LONG. TO. FINISH!!! trying to think of seperate scenarios and making them not too long n not too short... im happy w the outcome and variety of tropes i managed to come up with! :D
FAVORITE FICS READ & WHY
keroppi! (keeho) by @slytherinshua - zanna wrote a work for me = automatically fav fic!!! its cute sweet and teeth rotting LIKE DO U NEED ANYUTHGING ELSE?!?!?! whipped keeho. thats what u need and zanna is here to ddeliver (as always)
pretty boy (intak) by @loserlvrss - okay well maybe im biased but this eats. soph also did write it for me so what. who am i not to hold this fic close to my heart when it has husband dad intak????????????????
domestic fiance jiung by @trashcigs - i am starved for fiance jiung. a very rare gem. ITS SO GOOD i sobbed and melted when i read it!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MESSAGE FOR FUTURE SELF/READERS
take time to rest and work hard, balance is needed in life. same with friends -- sometimes you lose some just to find new ones. giving is good but you have to remember to give yourself something in return too. this works w fics as well: WRITE THAT FIC!!! who cares itll get 5 notes. do it :3
FOR READERS: leave reblogs w ur thoughts for writers i promise you it's the best way you can show your appreciation
FAVORITE FICS WRITTEN & WHY
pretty boy (intak) & braided up in love (seungmo) - i wrote fluff for my wives (axe and zanna), respectively
did you like her in the morning? (jongseob) - was purely self indulgent and I actually hurt my own feelings with it. angst truther 'till i die though !!!!!!!!!!!
FAVORITE FICS READ & WHY
lego date night (kyrell) by @slytherinshua - sobbed.
MESSAGE FOR FUTURE SELF/READERS
cheers to another year!
FAVORITE FICS WRITTEN & WHY
just to kiss you a week early (hwiyoung)- i'm insane for husband hwiyoung and want to eat him no notes
slow mornings (hwiyoung) - need this type of love desperately i'm delusional and same as above hwiyoung makes my head go crazy
between the lines of us (kamden) - a really well received fic !! i think a lot of andears loved it and i also loved it as well <3 i love writing this kind of au, secret relationship/forbidden love always eats and ofc nursing trope !!!!
FAVORITE MISC MEDIA MADE & WHY
hwiyoung @ sf9 live fantasy - .................... i think we all know why ^_^
MESSAGE FOR FUTURE SELF/READERS
hello future zanna :D i hope ur still writing delusions at this point in time, i'm curious if you've started writing for new groups and who they are <3 maybe you've finally figured out how to write longer fics who knows ! i hope you've grown in your writing by the time you read this and are even more confident than i am in this point in time. i know no matter what changes in the future you'll still be insane for nursing trope and neck kisses in 5, 10, or 50 years from now
FAVORITE FICS WRITTEN & WHY
i want it to be real too (intak) - it’s cute !!! i had fun writing it, if you couldn’t tell lmaooo
MESSAGE FOR FUTURE SELF/READERS
i hope that i could continue to write, not only for others to read but also to have someplace to express my emotions !!! i thank every person who has ever read my work, it means a lot :) never did i think anyone would ever be interested in reading even a word i write, but here i am !! i love everyone so much <3
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— 𝓂ei’s 𝓃ote : this is quite late for christmas, but this is kinda cute guys please hear me out
— 𝓌ord 𝒸ount : 811
snow started to fall from the sky, coating the dimly lit streets outside, the street lamps, and even the trees. the fresh snow was soft and untouched.. you found yourself sitting on the windowsill, knees brought up to your chest, and hot chocolate in hand. with occasional sips, you'd glance outside the window, the snow, the fairy light and reindeer statue decorations your neighbors put up, people outside in cute christmas outfits after a night out.. everything surrounding you felt warm. it really felt like christmas, something you always loved.
it was christmas eve, and ever since you were young, you couldn't hide the smile on your face whenever the season drew near. you always thought that christmas was the happiest holiday ever. the gifts, the snow, everything just made you feel so warm even in the cold weather. christmas was always the same, at least for all the years you’ve lived and celebrated christmas. celebrating with some friends, exchanging gifts, hanging out with family, the 25th of december was always full and you loved every second of it.
but this year felt different, something in this christmas atmosphere shifted. every christmas gathering, you've always gone alone. just you, yourself and a gift meant for others. everyone had their plus ones, but you never really minded it. but this christmas was different, you were sipping on your nearly finished hot chocolate on the windowsill in a sweater and some washed out jeans. usually you’d already be up, slipping on your shoes clumsily and grabbing your purse without a second thought. but as you were getting up, your gaze landed on leehan, spraying cologne a few feet away from you, his eyes lifting to meet yours.
“are you ready to leave?” he asks, voice soft– almost velvety in the warmth of this season. you nodded, finishing the hot chocolate before placing it in the sink. you’d deal with that later.
he comes up to you and places a soft kiss on the top of your head, “you look really pretty right now, y/n.” he says, like it was something that came to him naturally. you smiled, looking at him with sparkles in your eyes. “you’re not too bad yourself.” you say with a smile, he smiles back before slipping on his shoes. “let’s go, dont wanna be late do we?” he says before kneeling down to help you into your shoes, his hands gentle and familiar. its always small actions like this that he did all the time that made your heart flutter. to him, it was something any boyfriend should do for his girlfriend. but to you, it felt like you were the luckiest girl in the world.
⋆❅*𖢔𐂂꙳
the two of you slipped out into the cold air, it didnt take you long to realize that your sweater was going to do nothing to keep you warm. you hugged your arms around yourself, not wanting to make a fuss or go back into the house to find something warmer. your friends house wasnt too far away anyway, it was only a few blocks down.
walking on the sidewalk, snow crunching beneath your feet as you tucked your hands deep into your pocket. you didnt dare to look up at him, the air around you was quiet and cold. as you were walking, leehans steps slow down. you turn to look at him, “whats wrong?” you ask, matching your pace with his.
“you’re cold,” he says, it was more of a statement than a question. before you could even reply to him, he was already taking off his warm jacket. he faced, guiding your arms into the sleeves and pulling the jacket over your shoulders. he smiled with a gentle pat on your shoulder. you tried to take the jacket off, “leehan–”
he quickly cut you off as he reached his arms over to stop yours from taking the jacket off. “i know you’re gonna say you’re fine,” he says while adjusting the jacket on you. “i know you. that’s why i know youre shivering right now.”
you looked at him as he zips up the jacket. “dont try to take it off.” he says quietly before ruffling your hair. you let out a laugh, “hey! my hair!” you say. before you managed to get revenge, he was running. “catch me if you can!” he exclaims as his laughter trails behind him while he runs into the night, engraving his footprints on the snow beneath him.
you scoff in disbelief, taking the challenge. “oh yeah?! wait until i get you!!” you say before running after him, he occasionally glanced back at you running at him as he laughed. both of you enjoyed every second of this, both of you were wearing a smile that made your cheeks hurt.
you hoped that every year from now on christmas would feel like this.
ㅤㅤ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ( ❄️ ) so, tell me what's on your wishlist,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI wanna make it come true .ᐟ ୨୧
۶ৎ SYNOPSIS : Taesan never cared much for Christmas, but dating you has made the season feel strangely new to him. A few weeks into your relationship, you bring him Christmas shopping, determined to find him the perfect gift, only for him to dismiss every option without explanation. You think he’s being picky, but really, Taesan's hiding a wish he stubbornly can't bring himself to say, and it has nothing to do with anything sold in the mall. ۶ৎ PAIRING : (non)chalant taesan x reader ۶ৎ GENRE(S) : sweet as candy cane fluff !! ۶ৎ WARNING(S) : none! just Taesan desperately waiting for his Christmas mwuah! ۶ৎ PLAYLIST : santa doesn't know you like i do - Sabrina Carpenter ۶ৎ WORD COUNT : 5.1k words
۶ৎ A/N : hihi !! sorry this post is delayed by a few days bcs I've been really busy and sick😭this fic is part of "12 days of kpopblr" !! I'm truly honored to be working with so many lovely writers for this event !! I hope you all enjoy this fic and Merry Christmas Eve (It's December 24th where I am already ~) !! 🎄🤍
The first time Taesan held your hand, he'd laced his fingers through yours like he was afraid you'd disappear if he didn't hold on tight enough. Four weeks into dating, and he still hadn't quite figured out how to look at you without his ears turning red.
You noticed. Of course you noticed.
But you never called him out on it, not in a mean way, at least. You'd just smile, soft and knowing, and pretend you didn't see the blush creeping up his neck whenever you leaned too close or laughed at one of his dry observations about the world.
Tonight was no different.
"Are you cold?" you asked, swinging your intertwined hands between you both as you walked down the lamp-lit street. Snow had started falling an hour ago, dusting the sidewalks in white and clinging to the wool of his black coat. The city looked softer under the blanket of winter—streetlights haloed in gold, storefronts glowing warm through frosted windows.
"No." His voice came out low, quiet. He squeezed your hand once, a silent reassurance that he was fine, that he was here, that he wasn't going anywhere. "Are you?"
"Not really." You tilted your head up to catch snowflakes on your lashes, grinning at the sky like it had personally arranged this moment just for you. "I love this weather. Everything feels like it's waiting for Christmas."
Taesan glanced at you, the kind of look that lingered too long to be casual. Your cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, your breath fogging in the air as you laughed at nothing in particular. Snowflakes clung to your hair, melting slowly against the warmth of your skin. He didn't understand how you could be this happy about snow, lights and holidays that meant crowds, noise and forced cheer.
But he liked watching you be happy.
He liked it more than he'd ever admit out loud.
You turned to him suddenly, catching him mid-stare. "You're staring at me," you teased, bumping your shoulder against his.
His ears burned. "I'm not."
"You are." Your grin widened, eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's very obvious."
"I was just looking at the snow."
"Sure you were."
"I was."
"Uh-huh." You laughed, the sound bright and clear in the quiet street. "It's okay, you know. I don't mind."
He wanted to say he wasn't staring, that he was just observing, just taking in his surroundings like any normal person would. But the words caught in his throat, tangled up with all the other things he couldn't say yet. Things he kept locked away in the spaces between breaths, in the pauses before he spoke, in the moments when you weren't looking and he could let himself feel everything without fear of it showing on his face.
So instead, he just held your hand tighter and hoped you couldn't hear how fast his heart was beating.
You walked in comfortable silence for a while, your footsteps crunching softly against the snow. Occasionally, you'd point out holiday decorations in shop windows—a ceramic reindeer here, a string of silver bells there—and he'd nod along, committing every detail to memory. Not the decorations, but you. The flash of excitement in your eyes. The animated gestures you made with your free hand. The bounce in your step when you spotted a particularly elaborate window display.
He'd never been good at this—at being open, at showing affection in ways that were obvious and easy to read. But with you, he was trying. Holding your hand when you walked together. Texting you good morning even though he wasn't a morning person. Listening to you talk about your day and remembering the small details you mentioned in passing.
It felt like learning a new language. One where he stumbled over pronunciation and mixed up grammar, but you were patient enough to let him figure it out at his own pace.
When you reached your apartment building, you turned to face him, still holding his hand. The streetlamp above cast a warm glow across your features, and Taesan found himself memorizing the curve of your smile, the glint of snow in your hair, the gentle rise and fall of your breath in the cold air.
"Thanks for walking me home," you said.
"It's not far."
"Still." You squeezed his hand. "I like it when you do."
His throat felt tight. He wanted to say more, wanted to tell you that he'd walk you home every night if you'd let him, that these quiet moments at your doorstep had become his favourite part of the day, that leaving you here and going back to his empty apartment was getting harder each time.
But the words stayed locked in his chest.
Instead, he just nodded.
You stood there for a moment longer, and Taesan realized how near you were. His attention snagged on the details of your face, on the urge to lean forward and close the distance.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
“Do it,” a voice in his head urged. “Just close the distance. She's right there.”
But what if you weren't ready? What if he'd misread everything and you pulled away? What if he ruined this fragile, precious connection between you by moving too fast?
The fear paralyzed him, locking him in place, stealing movement and thought alike, leaving him suspended in the moment with no idea how to proceed.
"Goodnight, Taesan," you said softly, and there was a flicker of disappointment in your eyes that he didn't catch.
The moment broke, tension dissolving all at once, the fragile stillness giving way as reality pressed back in.
"Goodnight," he managed, voice rougher than he intended.
You gave him one last smile before disappearing into your building, and Taesan stood there in the falling snow, hands shoved deep in his pockets, wondering when he'd become such a coward.
He stayed there for longer than he should have, watching the light in your apartment window flicker on a few floors up. When your silhouette appeared briefly behind the curtains, he finally forced himself to turn and walk away.
The cold bit at his face, but all he could think about was how warm your hand had been in his.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
The thing about Taesan was that he didn't do Christmas.
He never had.
Growing up, it felt like a holiday designed for people who thrived in chaos—endless family gatherings where relatives asked invasive questions, last-minute shopping trips through packed malls, the performative joy that everyone seemed obligated to display whether they felt it or not. He preferred quiet. He preferred routines that didn't get disrupted by red and green decorations, carols playing on repeat in every store, strangers wishing him happy holidays with forced enthusiasm.
December had always been a month to endure, not celebrate.
But then you came into his life, and suddenly Christmas wasn't just tolerable.
It was you.
You, who hung miniature ornaments from your bag that jingled softly when you walked. You, who hummed carols under your breath while waiting in line for coffee, unconsciously swaying to rhythms only you could hear. You, who talked about holiday plans with so much genuine excitement that he started looking forward to December just because it made you smile.
He'd never cared about mistletoe, snow or twinkling lights strung across buildings.
Now he noticed every single one.
He found himself paying attention when you pointed out decorated storefronts, when you dragged him to see the giant tree in the city square, when you made him try peppermint hot chocolate even though he insisted he wouldn't like it. (He did like it. He'd never tell you that. You already looked too smug about being right.)
The shift happened so gradually he didn't realize it at first. December stopped being an inconvenience and started being a countdown to moments with you. Each day brought new decorations you'd get excited about, new plans you'd make, new reasons for you to look at him with those bright, hopeful eyes that made his chest feel too small for his heart.
And Taesan, who'd spent years being indifferent to the holiday season, suddenly found himself wishing it would last longer.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
"Taesan."
He blinked, pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your voice. You were standing in front of him in the campus library, hands on your hips, eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. Your scarf was slightly askew, and there was a dusting of snow on your shoulders from the walk over.
"You weren't listening," you accused.
"I was," he lied, closing his textbook. Chemistry could wait.
"Then what did I just say?"
He opened his mouth, closed it. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to recall even a single word you'd spoken in the last thirty seconds.
Nothing.
You burst out laughing, the sound earning you a few annoyed glances from nearby students trying to study. You didn't seem to notice or care.
"You silly kitty," you said, shaking your head as you pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. "I said we should go Christmas shopping this weekend. I still need to get gifts for people, and you—" You leaned forward, poking his textbook for emphasis. "—you need to tell me what you want."
"I don't need anything."
"That's not how this works."
"I'm serious." He met your eyes, trying to convey his sincerity. "You don't have to get me anything."
You frowned, tilting your head as you studied his face. "But I want to. That's the whole point of giving gifts. I want to get you things that'll make you happy."
His chest tightened at the earnestness in your voice.
"You already do," he said quietly.
"Do what?"
"Make me happy."
The words came out before he could stop them, and he immediately wanted to take them back. Too much, too honest, too revealing. But you just smiled, soft, genuine and breathtaking, and Taesan forgot why he'd been embarrassed in the first place.
"That's sweet," you said, and he could hear the smile in your voice. "But I still want to get you a real present. So start thinking about what you want, okay?"
He wanted to tell you that he'd been thinking about it for weeks. That there was one thing he wanted more than anything else, but it wasn't the kind of thing he could ask for without risking everything you'd built together.
Instead, he just nodded.
“Okay."
"Good." You leaned back in your chair, looking satisfied. "So, Saturday? We can make a day of it. Shopping, food, maybe ice skating if you're feeling adventurous."
"I don't ice skate."
"Then you'll just have to hold onto me the whole time." You grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I won't complain."
His ears burned red, and you laughed at his expression.
"I'm kidding. Kind of. But seriously—Saturday?"
"Yeah," he agreed, because he'd never been good at saying no to you. "Saturday."
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
Saturday arrived wrapped in fresh snow and clear blue skies.
Taesan met you at the train station, hands buried in his coat pockets, breath fogging in the frigid air. You showed up five minutes late, cheeks flushed from running, apologizing profusely even though he didn't mind waiting.
"Sorry, sorry! I couldn't find my good scarf and then I had to go back for my wallet—"
"It's fine," he interrupted gently, and without thinking, he reached out to adjust the scarf you'd finally found. It was the blue one he'd complimented once in passing. He didn't think you'd remember. "We're not in a rush."
You went still under his touch, eyes wide. For a second, neither of you moved.
Then Taesan realized what he was doing, how close he was standing, how intimate the gesture seemed, and quickly stepped back, clearing his throat.
"We should go," he said, avoiding your gaze.
"Yeah," you agreed, voice slightly breathless. "Let's go."
The train ride into the city was crowded, forcing you to stand pressed close together near the doors. Every time the train swayed, you'd bump into him, and Taesan would steady you with a hand on your elbow, hyperaware of every point of contact between you.
"Thanks," you'd murmur each time, and he'd just nod, not trusting his voice.
By the time you reached your stop, his heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the cramped space or stuffy air.
The mall was worse than he'd anticipated.
Crowds of shoppers moved in chaotic streams through decorated corridors, children shrieked with excitement near the massive Christmas tree in the center atrium, and holiday music blared from speakers mounted to the ceiling. Garland and lights covered every available surface, red and gold ornaments dangled at eye level, and the scent of cinnamon and pine hung heavy in the air.
Taesan felt overwhelmed within minutes.
But then you grabbed his hand, threading your fingers through his, and suddenly the noise faded into background static.
"Don't lose me," you said, grinning up at him.
As if he ever could.
You dragged him towards the first store with determined purpose, eyes scanning the displays for gift ideas. Taesan followed dutifully, content to let you lead even though he had no idea what you were looking for.
"Okay," you announced, stopping in front of a display of winter accessories. "First priority, figuring out what you want."
"I told you—"
"Yeah, yeah, you don't want anything." You waved him off, already picking up a dark gray scarf. "But humor me." You held it up to his neck, considering. "What about this?"
"It's fine."
"Fine doesn't mean you want it."
"I don't."
You huffed, setting it back down with more force than necessary. "Okay. What about a sweater?" You gestured to a nearby rack of knitted pullovers in various neutral tones.
"I have sweaters."
"Everyone has sweaters. That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?"
"The point is getting you things you'll actually use and enjoy." You turned to face him fully, hands on your hips in that way that meant you weren't backing down. "Work with me here, Taesan."
He bit back a smile. You looked cute when you were frustrated—nose scrunched, lips pressed into a determined line, eyes blazing with stubborn resolve.
"What about a mug?" you tried again, pointing to a display of ceramic cups with various winter designs.
"I have mugs."
"A hat?"
"Don't need one."
"Gloves?"
"I'm fine."
"A—wait, let me think—" You tapped your chin, scanning the store with narrowed eyes. "A record? You like music. We could go to that vintage shop on the third floor."
"I can find my own music."
You groaned, and Taesan couldn't help it. He laughed, just a quiet huff of amusement, but it was enough to make you whirl around and glare at him.
"You're doing this on purpose," you accused.
"I’m not."
"You are. You're being deliberately difficult because you think it's funny."
"I'm being honest."
"You're being impossible." But there was no real anger in your voice, just exasperation tinged with fondness. "There has to be something you want. Everyone wants things."
“Not things you can buy,” he thought. “Not things I can ask for without ruining everything.”
"I just don't need anything," he said instead, voice careful. "I'm good with what I have."
You stared at him for a long moment, scanning his face for an answer he didn’t know how to offer. Then you exhaled, your shoulders easing downwards, the weight of the moment settling into you.
“Fine. But I'm not giving up. We have all day.”
He knew you wouldn't.
That's what scared him.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
Two hours and seven stores later, you'd asked him about dozens of potential gifts.
Books. Headphones. A watch. A wallet. A plant. A desk lamp. Fancy pens. A puzzle. A cookbook he'd never use. Art prints for his apartment. A throw blanket. Cologne. A journal. A chess set.
His answer was the same every time : polite refusal, vague deflection, insistence that he didn't need anything.
And each time you grew more determined, more frustrated, more convinced that you just hadn't found the right thing yet.
Taesan felt guilty watching you search so earnestly for a gift he couldn't tell you didn't exist in any store. But how could he explain? How could he look at you and say that the only thing he wanted for Christmas was to be brave enough to close the distance between you? To stop hesitating at your doorstep? To kiss you without fear of it being too soon or too much?
He couldn't.
So he stayed quiet and let you pull him through store after store, and he memorized the concentrated furrow of your brow, the determined set of your jaw, the way you'd light up briefly before realizing he'd say no again.
"I don't get it," you said as you left another shop empty-handed. You'd stopped in the middle of the mall corridor, forcing other shoppers to flow around you both like water around a stone. "You have to want something. What about hobbies? What do you do for fun?"
“Listen to music."
"Which you said you don't need help with."
"Read."
"You rejected the book idea."
"Sleep."
You leveled him with an unimpressed look. "I'm not getting you a pillow, Taesan."
He almost smiled. "Noted."
"This is ridiculous." You crossed your arms, and Taesan noticed the way your coat had ridden up slightly, exposing the vulnerable curve of your neck to the cold. Without thinking, he reached out and pulled your collar up gently, fixing it.
Your breath caught.
He froze, hand still resting against your collar, suddenly aware of how close he was standing. He could see the flecks of gold in your eyes, could count each individual eyelash, could feel the warmth radiating from your skin despite the cold air.
"Sorry," he murmured, but he didn't step back. Couldn't step back.
"It's okay." Your voice came out softer than usual. "You're always doing things like that."
"Like what?"
"Taking care of me. Little things." You smiled, shy and sweet. "I like it."
His heart slammed against his ribs.
“Say it,” the voice in his head urged. “Tell her right now. Just be honest for once.”
But the words lodged in his throat, too heavy and too terrifying to speak aloud.
Someone bumped into him from behind, breaking the moment. Taesan stepped back quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but at your face. "Should we—" He cleared his throat. "Should we get food?"
You blinked, clearly wanting to say more, but finally nodded. "Yeah. Food sounds good."
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
An hour after getting food (hot chocolate, after you vetoed real food and he gave up arguing), you’d dragged him back into the shopping chaos with renewed determination.
"There has to be something," you insisted, pulling him towards a store that sold elaborate home goods. "What about candles? Everyone likes candles."
"I don't use candles."
"Decorative ones? For ambiance."
"I don't need ambiance."
"Taesan." You stopped walking, forcing him to face you. Your expression was caught between amusement and genuine frustration. "I just want to get you a gift. A real gift. Can you please give me something to work with?"
He hesitated, throat tight.
There was one thing. One thing he wanted more than anything else in the world. But it wasn't the kind of present you could wrap or put under a tree. It wasn't the kind of thing he could just ask for without making everything weird and complicated.
"There is… something," he admitted, voice barely audible over the mall noise.
Your eyes lit up. "Really? What is it?"
"It's—" He stopped, courage failing him. "It's not important."
"Yes it is." You stepped closer, and he could smell the faint scent of your shampoo, could see the earnest concern in your eyes. "If you want it, it's important. Tell me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Because I'm terrified. Because I don't want to pressure you. Because if I say it out loud and you're not ready, I'll ruin everything we have.
"It's just not the kind of thing you can buy," he said instead, looking away.
You were quiet for a long moment. When you spoke again, your voice was gentle, understanding in a way that made his chest ache.
"Oh."
That single syllable carried so much weight. Realization. Comprehension. Sympathy.
His ears burned red, mortification creeping up his neck. He wanted to disappear, to rewind the last thirty seconds and keep his mouth shut.
"Taesan," you said softly.
"Forget it." He started walking, needing to move, needing to escape the vulnerability of the moment. "Let's just—let's keep looking."
You didn't press. You just caught up to him, slipping your hand into his, and he was grateful for your understanding even as he cursed his own cowardice.
You continued through the mall in relative silence, the earlier playfulness replaced by a tension neither of you acknowledged. You still pointed out potential gifts, but your heart wasn't in it anymore. And Taesan still deflected, but now it felt hollow, performative.
The day was slipping away, and he was wasting it.
By the time evening arrived, the mall had grown somehow more crowded. Families with small children, couples on dates, groups of teenagers laughing too loud—everyone seemed determined to take advantage of the last few hours before closing.
"Let's go this way," you said, tugging him towards a quieter hallway. "I think there are some smaller boutiques down here that we haven't checked yet."
Taesan let you lead him away from the main corridor, grateful for the decrease in noise and bodies. The hallway you chose was narrower, less decorated but somehow cozier. White lights were strung along the ceiling in delicate loops, casting everything in a soft, warm glow. Small shops lined either side, their windows displaying handmade goods and artisan crafts.
It felt more intimate here. Private.
You slowed your pace, no longer rushing from store to store with frantic energy. Instead, you walked close to him, shoulders brushing with each step, hand warm in his.
"This is better," you murmured, more to yourself than to him.
Taesan hummed in agreement, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles on the back of your hand, a familiar, grounding rhythm.
And then you stopped.
The change was subtle but unmistakable—your stillness, the way your gaze fixed above, like you’d been pulled out of the moment without warning.
“What?” he asked confused, brows knitting with concern. “What are you looking at?”
You didn't answer right away, just kept staring upwards with an expression he couldn't quite read.
He followed your gaze.
His heart stopped. His breath hitched.
Mistletoe.
A small sprig of it hung directly above you both, tied with a red velvet ribbon and nestled among the garland draped across the hallway entrance. The white berries caught the light from the string of bulbs above, and for one frozen moment, Taesan couldn't breathe.
This was it.
This was the moment he'd been thinking about for weeks, the moment he'd imagined a dozen different ways and still didn't feel prepared for.
You noticed a second later, following his gaze. Your eyes widened, and then you laughed, soft, surprised, a little bit shy.
"Oh," you said. "That's... that's pretty convenient."
Taesan's pulse thundered in his ears. His palms were sweating. His mind was racing through every possible outcome, every way this could go wrong.
But you were looking at him now, waiting, and he realized with sudden clarity that he couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep hesitating, keep holding back, keep letting fear dictate his choices.
"We don't have to—" you started, voice careful, giving him an out.
"I want to."
The words came out raw, honest, entirely too revealing. But he didn't care anymore.
Your lips parted in surprise. "What?"
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to hold your gaze even though every instinct told him to look away.
“That’s what I want,” he said, voice quiet, rough around the edges like he was holding himself together by sheer will. “That’s what I’ve wanted. For… longer than I probably should admit.”
He let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, shaking his head. “I kept telling myself to wait. To be normal about it. To not read into every time you stood a little too close or looked at me like that.”
His thumb brushed your sleeve, tentative, like he was checking whether he was still allowed to be this near. “I didn’t know how to ask without making it weird. Or without making you feel like you had to say yes.”
He glanced up at you then, eyes soft, hopeful in a way that made your chest ache. “I didn’t want to rush you. Or mess this up. Or be the guy who moves too fast and risk losing whatever this is between us.”
A small, almost shy smile tugged at his mouth. “So I waited. And waited. But… if you want it too—”
He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he hesitated for just a second too long. His gaze searched your face, careful, hopeful. “Could I… could I kiss you?”
You stared at him, eyes wide, and for a terrible moment he thought he'd ruined everything.
Then, slowly, a smile spread across your face, warm, fond, impossibly tender.
"Taesan," you said, and your voice was soft enough that he had to lean closer to hear. "You're an idiot."
He blinked. "What?"
"I've been waiting for you to kiss me for two weeks."
His brain short-circuited. "You—what?"
He blinked at you, trying to process the words. Two weeks? You'd been waiting for two weeks?
"But—" He struggled to form a coherent thought. "You never said anything. You never—I thought—"
"I was trying to be patient," you said, and there was amusement dancing in your eyes now. "I didn't want to pressure you. You always seemed so nervous, and I figured you'd do it when you were ready."
"I almost did," he admitted, the words tumbling out now that the dam had broken. "So many times. That night I walked you home in the snow? I wanted to kiss you at your door so badly I could barely think straight."
"I know," you said softly, and his eyes widened.
"You knew?"
"Taesan, you stared at my lips for like ten seconds before saying goodnight." You were trying not to laugh now. "It wasn't exactly subtle."
He groaned, covering his face with one hand. "Oh my god."
"And then you just... left." You pulled his hand away so you could see his face. "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind. Or that I'd misread everything."
"You didn't misread anything," he said, voice muffled by embarrassment. "I was just—I'm an idiot."
"Yeah," you agreed, but you were smiling. "But you're my idiot."
And then, before he could overthink it, before he could talk himself out of it, before fear could paralyze him again—
You rose up on your toes and gently pressed your lips to his.
It was soft at first, tentative, like you were giving him room to pull away if he wanted to. But he didn't want to. He'd never wanted anything less.
Instead, he melted into it, one hand coming up to cup your cheek while the other found your waist, pulling you closer. His heart was racing, his palms were still sweating, and he was pretty sure he'd forgotten how to breathe properly.
But he didn't care.
Because you were kissing him, and it felt like every wish he'd been too afraid to voice, every want he'd kept locked away, every moment of hesitation finally made worthwhile.
Your lips were soft and warm, and you tasted faintly of the hot chocolate you'd had earlier. The kiss was unhurried, gentle, like you had all the time in the world. Like this moment could stretch on forever and neither of you would complain.
When you finally pulled back, not far, just enough to breathe, your foreheads stayed pressed together. Your eyes were still closed, lips curved in a smile, and Taesan committed the image to memory with desperate intensity.
"Was that okay?" you whispered.
He wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell you that "okay" didn't even begin to cover it.
"Yeah," he managed, voice wrecked. "That was—yeah."
You opened your eyes, and they were bright with happiness, with relief, with affection so clear it made his chest ache.
"Good," you said simply. Then, with a teasing lilt, "Merry Christmas, Taesan."
He couldn't help it—he laughed. Quiet, breathless, disbelieving.
"It's not Christmas yet."
"Close enough."
And then you were kissing him again—no hesitation this time, no space left for doubt. The careful edges of the moment blurred, and he stopped caring about technicalities.
He stopped caring about the crowds in the mall, the noise of holiday music, the pressure of gift-giving. Stopped caring about his fears, insecurities and all the reasons he'd convinced himself this would go wrong.
Because you were here, held securely in his arms, kissing him with the quiet reverence reserved for what is cherished. Like this moment had been waiting for you both all along, patient and inevitable.
When you broke apart for the second time, you didn't step away. Instead, you tucked yourself against his chest, arms wrapping around his waist, and he held you close, chin resting on top of your head.
"So," you said, voice muffled against his coat. "Did you get what you wanted for Christmas?"
He thought about it, the weeks of wanting, the fear of asking, the relief of finally having this. "Yeah," he murmured into your hair. "I did."
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes sparkling. "Good. Because I was running out of gift ideas."
He laughed and you grinned, clearly pleased with yourself.
"Come on," you said, taking his hand again. "Let's get out of here. We can grab dinner somewhere quiet."
"Okay."
You started walking, pulling him along, and Taesan followed without hesitation.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
Later, when you were walking home through snow-dusted streets, your head resting against his shoulder and his arm wrapped securely around you, Taesan realized he didn't hate Christmas anymore.
He didn't hate the lights, the crowds, the music that played on repeat in every store.
Because now, Christmas meant you.
It meant your laugh, your smile, your hand in his. It meant mistletoe in mall hallways and first kisses. It meant the warmth of your body pressed against his side, the comfortable silence between you, the promise of more moments like this to come.
It meant being brave enough to want things, and learning that sometimes the best gifts were the ones you couldn't wrap.
"Hey," you said suddenly, voice drowsy and content. "What are you thinking about?"
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, soft and unthinking.
"Nothing important."
"Liar."
He smiled. "I'm thinking that this was a good day."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
You hummed in agreement, snuggling closer. "Best Christmas shopping trip ever."
He couldn't argue with that.
When you reached your apartment, you turned to face him at the door, and this time there was no hesitation. No wondering if he should, no fear of moving too fast.
He just leaned down and kissed you again, slow and sweet, and you kissed him back with a smile on your lips.
Santa might not have known what he wanted.
But you already knew.
And you’d given him exactly what he’d been hoping for.
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hey guys !! im so so sorry for being so inactive. ive been putting off this post for awhile, because really im in so much doubt that i ever wanna take a break from this. honestly, the community ive built here feels like comfort, a warm hug whenever irl feels like too much. but theres no more denying that ive been way less active on here. its also due to the fact that my mental health is not doing too good, im fighting my own battles and bad habits that i dont wanna name and i never want to make writing feel like a chore to me.
im not quitting (obviously a 14 year old cant have THAT much to do lmao) but life has been getting the best of me and i dont really feel like im enjoying writing. dont get me wrong, i love writing. its a part of me and i love that feeling when you guys tell me my works are good, its really rewarding really, i feel like a kid getting candy on halloween.
but assignments are coming at me back to back, i need to lock in at school guys ngl i did NOT thing 9th grade was serious like at all till i realize im lazy as hell... so to stop my yapping basically im gonna be inactive for maybe a month or so. however long i need to finish up irl stuff before coming back and writing again, because thats what i love doing!!!
i love all of you, you all feel like my older siblings, always here for me 🤍MEI COMEBACK SOON WAIT FOR ME!!!
— 𝓂ei’s 𝓃ote : i was in a really bad writers slump if you couldnt tell. i hope this gets me back on track :)
— 𝓌ord 𝒸ount : 384
you could've sworn it was once you and him. the way you looked at that empty bench next to the tree, remnants of what used to be. It was an illusion, the difference was that it really did happen. the reminder that you had sat in that exact bench, you remember his touch. you remember how he tucked your hair behind your ear, gently adorning your hair with a flower. you remember it so clearly, it made you question things. you were so compatible, so why couldn't you sit at that same bench again?
days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. if you told your past self that you'd breathe even without him around you, you don't think your past self would ever blink an eye at that statement. you’d scoff in reply, smirk as if it was a ridiculous statement. the truth was that you always thought that he was your lifeline. oh, without him grounding you, you were a mess. he always felt the need to care for you– “i know you can, but let me take care of you” he’d say. when he said it, you were stubborn. you pushed him away, saying that you’d be able to do everything on your own. but now? it was pathetic, really. You'd give up anything to hear those words again. you managed to wonder, did he ever regret the path he chose to take? what if he continued to pursue you? what if he kept budging down the walls you’ve built? ones you felt you couldn't even get past yourself.
you regret it. deeply. but did he? you could almost hear the sigh each time you swatted him away. well, maybe not physically.. but he probably felt that way. all you did was run away, you knew you wanted it, you knew he wanted you. why was it so hard to just.. let him? he was everything. he was kind, he was caring, he wanted to take care of you, he accepted you for who you were, you knew– you know that. but then, maybe thats how it’ll be. till you meet and till you have that sorrowful reunion. you know you’ll exchange glances– ones where all those moments play behind his eyes. you see it. you see it ever so clearly.
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