✨이련✨

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ 𓂃 ִֶָ𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ𓂃˖˳·˖ 🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

CORTIS × fem! reader

genre: pg-13, fluff, heart comfort

synopsis: it’s your birthday, and he decided to brighten your day with a nice surprise (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

| JAMES

James spent a long time figuring out the perfect surprise. He wanted your morning to start with something special, so he made sure he was the only one who knew the combination to your university locker. You showed up to school an hour before your first class, opened the door, and gasped.

Inside, carefully propped against a stack of notebooks, was a card. On the envelope, it said: “Happy birthday, my dear Y/N” You opened it, and little foil hearts fell out. Behind the card sat a plush gray cat with huge eyes and long whiskers. Its paw was holding a tiny sign that read: “Meow, I see you.”

You hugged the toy to your chest and didn’t even notice James coming up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzled his nose into the top of your head, and whispered, “I knew you’d love waking up with a cat every morning. Even if it’s just a stuffed one.” You turned around and kissed the corner of his mouth. The little cat went with you to every lecture.

| JUHOON

All day, Juhoon acted weird. He texted you a short “happy birthday” in the morning, but at your celebratory dinner he stayed quiet — just smiled and helped pour tea. You were starting to get a little annoyed, but then guests kept handing you gifts and you got distracted.

When everyone finally left and you collapsed onto the couch, tired, Juhoon suddenly pulled a giant bag out of his backpack. It rustled as he opened it, and out came all kinds of goodies — your favorite Belgian chocolate, gummy bears, a jar of Nutella, salted caramel, and some snacks. And at the very bottom lay the cap you’d been eyeing in store windows for the past two months.

“Sorry I was quiet,” he said, looking a bit embarrassed. “I just wanted you to remember my gift.”

You hugged him super tight, burying your face in his sweater.

| MARTIN

Right at midnight, as the clock was striking twelve, someone pounded on your front door so hard that your terrified cat shot under the dresser. Your parents exchanged glances, but you already knew — it was Martin.

You opened the door, and he burst in holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a cake in the other. His face was split by a giant grin, even though his hair was wet from the rain and there was a smear of frosting on his T-shirt.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” he yelled so loud that your mom jumped.

But a second later, your parents were laughing. Your dad shook Martin’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder. Your mom got out plates and knives. At two in the morning, the four of you were sitting in the kitchen — your parents, you, and this crazy guy who’d just smashed the cake right in the middle of the living room. You looked at Martin, covered in chocolate, and felt like the happiest girl in the world.

| SEONGHYEON

For the last three weeks, Seonghyeon had been bombarding you with questions: “What tea flavor calms you down the most?” “If you could only wear one lipstick for the rest of your life, what shade would it be?” “What sunglasses do you think are perfect?” You didn’t think much of it — you figured he was just super curious.

But on your birthday, right there at the dinner table, he asked all your friends to pay attention for a minute. Then he started handing out gifts one by one. First — a box with the exact nude lipstick you’d been hunting for forever. Then — a jar of rare jasmine tea from China. And finally — a pair of sunglasses from the brand you’d been dreaming about. Every time, your eyes got wider, and your friends gasped right along with you.

“I hope you liked it,” Seonghyeon said with his shy little square smile, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. You almost cried because he’d gotten everything so perfectly right.

| KEONHO

Keonho was never one for long, complicated preparations. On your birthday, he showed up with the biggest box of your favorite chocolates he could find in the city — twenty different kinds, from milk chocolate with salted caramel to dark chocolate with chili pepper.

And the second gift was even better: two tickets for unlimited visits to the amusement park for a whole year.

“You always said you could never get enough of roller coasters,” Keonho reminded you. “Now you’ve got a year of unlimited rides. I’ll hold your hand while you scream.”

You were so happy that you kissed him on the cheek several times — once when you saw the chocolate, again when you read the tickets, and a third time when he promised to ride even the scariest roller coaster with you. Keonho just smirked and blushed. Then he stole one of your chocolates, but you pretended not to notice.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

CORTIS × fem! reader

genre: pg-13, fluff, heart comfort

synopsis: his behaviour when something bad happened with you and he wants to cheer you up

| JAMES

Usually, when you get upset about something, the world seems to go crazy. Everything starts falling out of your hands: your mug of tea flies to the floor, the file you need won't open, and your own fingers feel like strangers. Or you do everything backwards: you go the wrong way, accidentally send an important email to the wrong person. At times like this, you want to cry and stop breathing, to just run away into the void and forget your failures like a bad dream.

James senses your state better than anyone else. He doesn't ask “What happened?” – he just knows. James knows exactly what to do, so he immediately comes over, gently takes your hands (even if they're shaking with anger), pulls you to his chest so you can hear the steady beat of his heart. With one hand he strokes your hair, with the other he holds you by the waist. And then he softly kisses you.

“It's okay,” he whispers almost into your hair. “You're not a robot, you're a real, living person. Every single one of us makes mistakes. So don't you dare get upset over such little things, hear me?”

His index finger draws soothing circles on your back.

“Everything will be fine,” James continues. “You're the best, you know that. And as for the cereal flakes that just scattered – we'll pick them up. Together.”

You breathe in the smell of his sweater – tangy, familiar – and for the first time in an hour, you notice that breathing has become easier.

| JUHOON

It's hard to imagine Juhoon being fussy or overbearing in moments when you feel awful. He doesn't ask a hundred questions, he doesn't smother you with cries of "everything will work out." He's more like your personal temple: quiet, reliable, with coolness in the corners and soft light. You can always come to him, complain, or confess – and not hear false cheerfulness in return. Juhoon simply sits across from you, takes your hands in his, and waits.

“This is no reason to be sad,” he finally says softly and kisses your forehead – so gently that you squeeze your eyes shut from the unexpected tenderness. “There are things that hurt much more, morally and physically. I don't want you to suffer, especially over something that can be fixed.”

His calm voice is low and steady, like a lullaby. The feeling of warmth and harmony next to him envelops you like a soft blanket. You notice your shoulders drop, your fingers unclench, and the extra thoughts – the very ones that have been gnawing at you for the past few hours – begin to retreat. Juhoon is in no hurry. He'll wait until you gather your courage, and only then will he ask: “Do you want to talk? Or should we just sit in silence?” And no matter what you choose, Juhoon will smile and hug you anyway.

| MARTIN

Sometimes you really felt sorry for Martin, because he often catches you when you're angry. You don't know how to control your rage when something upsets you: you want to throw lightning bolts and fight with everyone, curse, scream, hurl sofa cushions at the wall. In those moments, you turn into a hurricane, and few dare to come near. But Martin isn't like that.

He patiently waits for you to release the first wave, and then he carefully touches your ears – first with his fingertips, light circular motions. Then he smoothly moves to your neck, where your skin is especially hot from anger. His fingers are cool, and the contrast is sobering, like a glass of water on a hot day.

“Wait, don't be so angry, take it easy,” he says with a slight smirk, though his eyes remain serious. “You can't be mad at everyone, you know that. And this isn't worth your nerves.”

His palms land on your shoulders and gently squeeze. You snort, trying to keep a stern face, but Martin is already touching the sensitive spot behind your ears, and you involuntarily close your eyes.

You seem so strong, ready to kill everyone around you for the slightest mistake, but in your life there is this big guy who, with one touch, turns you into a small, quiet kitten. And damn it, it works.

| SEONGHYEON

When Seonghyeon is around, you try to hold back because you're afraid of looking weak. You hide your eyes, say “I'm fine,” bite your lip. But if sadness overwhelms you completely and you no longer have the strength to pretend – you let your emotions run free. Tear after tear rolls down your cheeks, you turn away, squeeze your eyes shut.

And when, with a sob, you finally lose control completely, your shoulders begin to shake.

Before, Seonghyeon used to get scared, because he rarely saw you in such a state. But since a difficult period began at work, he has learned to understand this silent agony. Now he acts gently and confidently.

“If you're feeling really bad,” he says, approaching and cautiously touching your elbow. “Let's move away from people. No one should see your tears if you don't want them to.”

He leads you to a quiet room or an empty staircase – somewhere where there's no one else.

“Just don't keep it all inside, okay? I'm here. Get it off your chest – and it will become easier.”

These words are more than enough to make you cry even harder. But now they're different tears. Realizing that next to you is such a friend, such a boyfriend, such a wonderful person who doesn't turn away from your pain – that is true happiness. You nod, sniffle, and start to talk. And Seonghyeon listens without interrupting.

| KEONHO

By nature, Keonho is very talkative: on normal days, he never shuts up, showering you with jokes, stories, plans for the evening. But in moments when you are sad, he seems to absorb your state and also falls silent. And it's not scary – on the contrary, it becomes easier. You feel comfortable holding the pause, feeling the silence, imagining that the worst is still behind you. Keonho does the same. He simply sits next to you on the sofa, takes your hand, and squeezes it with such calm constancy, as if to say, “I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.”

He can sit like that for an hour, two, half a day – not moving, not asking questions, not trying to rouse you. When the storm in your head subsides, he waits for your first word. And only then does he start asking questions himself – gently, without pressure.

“You're not to blame for what happened,” Keonho says, turning his whole body toward you. “That's life – without mistakes, we don't gain experience. So it's all right. I just don't want my beautiful girl to be sad.”

CORTIS × fem! reader

genre: pg-13, fluff, boyfriend au!

𓂃۶ৎ synopsis: once you didn’t answer for too long, which made him worry about you 𓂃۶ৎ

CORTIS × fem!reader

genre: pg-13, fluff, heart comfort

JAMES | SINCERITY

What you love about James is that he never pretends. When you watch a movie of any genre together, he might laugh so loudly that the neighbors leave a note by your door the next day. And when you accidentally break his favorite mug, he frowns at first — genuinely, with that little crease between his brows — but then a second later he waves it off: “Ah, it's just a mug.” James can get angry when the internet isn't working, be surprised by your gift, sometimes get shy from a compliment. All of it — lively, real, unfiltered. You tell him this one evening. He's silent for a couple of seconds, then breaks into a wide, beaming smile and hugs you so tightly that you catch your breath.

“Thank you for noticing. I love you, Y/N,” he whispers, and you melt like ice.

JUHOON | CALMNESS

In a world where everything is falling apart, Juhoon is your safe space. What you value in him isn't loud declarations, but a calmness as steady as breathing. When you come home exhausted from work, he doesn't ask a thousand questions. He just walks over, puts his hands on your shoulders, pulls you closer, and quietly asks, “Everything okay?” There's no worry in his voice, no pressure. Just the confidence that he's there. Juhoon even shows his love without fanfare — hugging you in line for coffee, fixing the hood of your hoodie. You know: if there's a storm of feelings raging inside him, it's barely visible on the outside. But his hand on your lower back says more than any words. “Everything okay, honey?” — and you nod, because with him, everything really is okay.

MARTIN | AWKWARDNESS

Martin is the king of awkward situations, and you adore him for it. He can trip on flat ground, spill juice on something new, or mix up acquaintances' names. But the best part is his reaction. Instead of getting mad at himself, Martin bursts into such sincere, wild laughter that you start laughing along, even before you realize what happened. “I'm an idiot!” he yells, rubbing his bruised knee, and then immediately makes a funny face. You're already sitting next to him, patting his shoulder, but he just keeps laughing: “No, really, that was way too funny.” You love this awkward, clumsy, totally real Martin. When he inevitably cuts his finger on wrapping paper next time, you'll rush over with the first aid kit, sit down beside him, and laugh along with him. Martin is happy that you understand him and always take care of him.

SEONGHYEON | ATTENTION TO DETAIL

What you like about Seonghyeon is how he notices what others don't see. When you're walking down the street, he suddenly stops and says, “You put on different earrings today? They look really cute.” Or: “Oh, that's the webcomic you wanted to read. I'll buy it.” You often forget the little things — he remembers everything. If you're busy and your hair keeps getting in the way, he'll casually pull out his own hair tie from his pocket in the middle of a conversation and hand it to you, saying, “Here, this'll help you.” At first you thought it was just politeness. But then you realized: it's attentiveness. Seonghyeon looks at the world around you so closely, as if every detail matters. Once you sneezed, and within a minute Seonghyeon was already handing you several tissues. You looked at him questioningly. He just shrugged and replied, “You always sneeze twice or even more, Y/N” And you smiled.

KEONHO | MOOD MAKER

When you're sad, Keonho doesn't lecture you or smother you with hugs. He just starts messing around. What you love about him is that childish, carefree ability to turn any gloom into a trifle. He might put your sunglasses on backwards, pretend to be a robot, or suddenly start dancing to music from a cat food commercial. You try to keep a straight face, but when he drops to his knees and whispers dramatically, “Oh miss Y/N, have mercy, smile just for one second,” you give in. He gets what he wants not by force, but by absurdity. And that's why you love him. You laugh until you cry, and Keonho nods with satisfaction: “See, I told you that you have a beautiful smile.” You don't know how he does it, but even the gloomiest days become brighter with him around.

CORTIS × fem! reader

genre: pg-13, fluff, heart comfort

| JAMES

James met you at the entrance of your building and froze. The sun was shining at your back, and the light fabric of the dress shimmered.

“You… this…” he began, but instead of words, he delivered the first compliment: “You look like a painting.”

You started walking toward the park. Two minutes later, he added, “And your legs… sorry, but it's just a crime.”

You laughed.

Another minute later: “My heart skipped a beat. Honestly.”

Halfway to the park: “Are you sure we're going for a walk, not a red carpet?”

At the park entrance: “I would write a poem about you, but all the words have already been invented before me.”

And the last one, already under the old linden tree: “You know, I'll remember this day when I grow old.”

You blushed, and James smiled contentedly, offering you his arm.

| JUHOON

Juhoon opened the door and stood stunned. His gaze slid from your sandals upward, lingered on the hem of the dress, and then on your eyes. He opened his mouth, but made no sound. A few seconds passed in complete silence. Then he slowly reached out and ran his fingertips along the edge of the fabric, as if checking whether it was real. He nodded. Blushed to the roots of his hair. Nodded again.

Finally, gathering his strength, he asked in a slightly hoarse voice, ”Why did you wear a dress today?”

You shrugged and answered:

“It's warm. I wanted to wear something light.”

Juhoon fidgeted a little more, took a deep breath, and then took your hand in his. “It… suits you.” And added more quietly: “Very much.”

| MARTIN

Martin was standing by a bench, fiddling with his phone, and when you approached, he glanced briefly and looked away. Then he suddenly turned back, eyes wide open.

“Wait a minute… is that… is that you?” he grabbed your shoulders and gave you a slight shake. “Where did you get such a beautiful dress? You never wore one before!”

You were secretly happy about his reaction but held back a smile.

“Well, you have to dress very good...” Martin froze for a second, still slightly bewildered, then put his arm around your shoulder. “You always look great, but today… you're absolutely irresistible.”

He nodded toward the old apple tree. “Let's go there. I want to take a picture of you. Just turn toward the sun.”

| SEONGHYEON

You always thought that for Seonghyeon there was no difference — jeans or a dress. But today, as you were walking past a fountain, you suddenly felt his palm on your thigh.

“What are you doing?” you asked, a little startled.

Seonghyeon frowned and pulled the hem down, but the fabric stubbornly went back up. “Strange. Can't it be made longer?”

You didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed, but you hugged him anyway.

“It's just a little above the knee.”

“But I'd say thigh-high.” He glanced at the dress again, then at the passersby who were also looking. “So much so that I can see your beautiful legs. And not just me.”

You laughed, and Seonghyeon spent the whole walk either admiring you or frowning at random onlookers.

| KEONHO

Keonho was waiting for you at home, fooling around as usual, and had already prepared his phone for another funny photo. You knocked. No one answered. Again. And again. You called.

“Keonho, are you at home?”

A strange, trembling voice came from the other side: “Yes, but… some girl is knocking on my door. And she's talking to someone on the phone.”

You covered your face with hand.

“It's me. Have you completely lost your mind?”

He hung up. Less than a minute later, the door swung open. Keonho stood on the threshold, confused and red-faced.

“And you… you're crazy to come over in such a beautiful dress.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaled shakily: “Damn, you're gorgeous.” And instead of teasing you, Keonho just extended his hand and said, “Come in. Just… give me a heads-up next time, alright?”

RIIZE × fem!reader

genre: pg-13, fluff, heart comfort

| SHOTARO

Somewhere in the background, a frying pan was sizzling, and you stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen. Shotaro approached silently, as always, but you felt his warmth at your back a second before his hands settled on your waist. No music, except for the quiet hum of the ventilation hood. He turned you around, and you began that strange, un-choreographed dance: two clumsy steps to the left, a turn, then right again. You buried your nose in his shoulder, forgetting all about dinner. He chuckled softly when you nearly bumped into the refrigerator, but he didn't stop. A minute later, you were standing tightly pressed against each other, and his lips were already searching for yours.

| EUNSEOK

You could spend an entire evening on the couch without touching each other. To outsiders, it looked like you were both in your own worlds. But that was your secret. Suddenly, while Eunsеok was scrolling intently through his phone, you reached out and pinched his nose with your fingers. He let out that funny, nasal whine you adored. "I'm dying," he groaned jokingly. You laughed, but loosened your grip a little. Then you leaned in and kissed his face – first the tip of his offended nose, then his cheek, then the corner of his lips. He opened his eyes and smirked:

“My turn now.”

It was a strange, ticklish, pinch-filled kind of love, but it was yours.

| SUNGCHAN

After a long day, only one position felt right: horizontal. You were sprawled across the bed, having lost the pillows somewhere. Sungchan stared at the ceiling, but his fingers had a life of their own. They buried themselves in your hair, running through the strands with meditative calm. He tried to gather it into a ponytail, but it slipped through. So he started braiding a loose little braid that would probably fall apart within a minute. You didn't care. You just lay there, cheek pressed to his shoulder, studying his hands – large hands with long fingers that were now moving so carefully.

“Don't fall asleep,” he whispered, “I'm almost done with the masterpiece.”

You didn't answer. You were already drowning in the warmth.

| WONBIN

You never used to know that wrists could be an erogenous zone. Wonbin knew. While walking through the park, he would suddenly stop and bring your hand to his lips, kissing the thin skin where your pulse beat. Your breath caught. He loved leaning toward your neck when you sat in a café, brushing his lips against the spot behind your ear. You'd shiver, covered in goosebumps, and he'd notice with satisfaction every time. A kiss on your collarbone when your shirt slipped off your shoulder. A kiss on the crook of your elbow. Wonbin spoke a language that only your skin understood, and it honestly betrayed you completely.

| SOHEE

You usually heard him approaching – light footsteps. But sometimes Sohee moved silently on purpose. Suddenly, his arms would wrap around you just above your elbows, and he'd press his chest to your back, tucking his chin onto your shoulder. And then he'd start singing. Anything – a slow ballad, a pop song, even some silly commercial jingle you'd heard together. His voice vibrated right next to your ear, tickling the tiny hairs. You'd freeze, afraid to breathe, because the moment you moved, he might stop. Sometimes you laughed because he was off-key, but you never interrupted him. It was the strangest way to say, "I'm here."

| ANTON

Neither of you noticed when it started. Maybe it was the day you sneezed three times in a row. From then on, Anton went into a routine: “Everything okay?” – out of nowhere, while you were watching a series.

“Yeah, all good,” you'd answer without looking away from the screen.

And you'd immediately receive a light-as-a-feather kiss on the lips. “Anything hurt?” he'd ask in the kitchen while you were cutting vegetables. “No, nothing.” A smack on the cheek. You'd check him the same way, on autopilot: “And you?” – “Everything's fine.” And you'd kiss him on the bridge of his nose. It turned into a habit, a password, a tic, a silly and beautiful superstition.

CORTIS × fem!reader

genre: pg-13, fluff, heart comfort

Synopsis: you're not a stranger girl, just want to tease him for paying attention XD

| JAMES

After every hockey practice, you had a ritual. Well, the ritual was yours. The truth was, you couldn't stand just walking home — you absolutely had to lightly tap James on the butt with your stick. James pretended not to notice, but inside, his patience timer was ticking.

One day, while he was enthusiastically telling you about a new defense tactic, you swung your stick again. Whoosh! This time, James lightning-quick intercepted your stick.

“That's it, you're punished,” his voice sounded stern, but his eyes were laughing. He began methodically, gently, returning the favor. “Why do you do this to me?”

You didn't hold back — you laughed, not even trying to break free.

“I love your butt. I don't know what's wrong with me.”

James froze for a second, then smiled. He knew perfectly well what was "wrong" — and he'd figured it out long ago. Putting his free arm around you and continuing to lightly tap your butt with his own stick, he whispered:

“Let's go home, troublemaker.”

| JUHOON

You loved testing Juhoon's limits. The guy was impossible to anger — he seemed like the embodiment of calm. While he was deep into Genshin Impact, you lay silently on the couch. Juhoon took off his headphones.

“Y/N, what do you want for dinner?”

A shrug.

An hour later, he finished, came over to the couch, and sat down next to you. You were almost lying down, face buried in your phone. Juhoon looked into your eyes.

“Any plans for tonight?”

Again, silence and a disarming smile.

“Say something, seriously,” he said, softly poking your forehead. “Don't play the silent game — you'll lose.”

You held the pause, looking straight into his eyes with defiance. And then Juhoon simply leaned in and gave you a light peck on the lips.

You flared up like a match, jumped to your feet, but before you could take a single step — you were pulled back into a tight embrace. Juhoon silently looked at you, long and intently, until you gave in.

“Yeah... yeah, it's fine,” you exhaled, hiding your burning cheeks against his chest. “Just an experiment.”

| MARTIN

Martin was a big, serious guy, but he had one weak spot — his left side. You'd found out by accident and had been mercilessly exploiting it ever since. That evening the streets were empty, and the silence was lulling. You turned into the first courtyard, Martin right behind you.

A sharp spin. And your fingers, like a knife, attacked the forbidden zone.

“Again?! I'm going to die, Y/N, I'm really going to die!” Martin squealed, laughed and whimpered all at once, trying to grab your wrists. “I'll do anything, just stop, please!”

You were howling with laughter, enjoying the contrast between his strength and this childish vulnerability. But suddenly your laughter broke off — Martin's broad palm landed on your neck and began to lightly tickle.

“No! Not the neck-ah-ah-ah!” you shrieked, now trying to break free yourself. “Please!”

“Nope,” Martin exhaled, still red from laughing. “Now we're even, sweetheart.”

| SEONGHYEON

Seonghyeon got upset easily, but you knew: for his sake, it was worth being careful. Alas, when he was making chocolate pancakes and the whole kitchen was covered in flour and eggshells, your caution evaporated. You quietly crept up behind him, gathered some leftover flour from the counter into your palm... and hid your hands behind your back.

“What are you up to? I saw everything,” Seonghyeon said loudly without turning around.

“I just wanted to hug you,” you sang innocently, creeping closer to him.

He smiled, spun around, and pulled you to him. You buried your nose in his chest, he buried his in the top of your head. The hug was surprisingly long and tight; neither of you wanted to let go. Then Seonghyeon went back to the batter and suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“It feels so good when you hug me, Y/N, especially when...” He caught sight in the mirror of the floury handprints on his own back and pants. “...Oh, you sly fox.”

Seonghyeon slowly turned around, and his eyes gleamed with competitive fire.

“I'll get you back.”

With a wicked little laugh, you were already running down the hallway, squealing.

| KEONHO

You two fooled around always and everywhere. On the bus after university, Keonho suddenly became suspiciously calm — he stared out the window and didn't bother you. You couldn't stand that. You wanted to cheer him up, so you took his hand, lined up your thumbs side by side, and commanded:

“Fight!”

Keonho perked up instantly, like a puppy that's just been thrown a stick. He pressed with all his might, but you had learned to twist your fingers, cover his thumb, and snatch victory. Time after time.

“How do you do that?!” Keonho fumed, not hiding his excitement. His eyes were blazing, he was almost growling with frustration, but grinning from ear to ear.

“I'm the champion, deal with it,” you exhaled, completely out of strength.

CORTIS × fem! reader

genre: fluff, heart comfort

| JAMES

After classes, you usually left first. But that evening, you were nowhere to be seen. James stood by the fence, pressing himself against the rusty bars, scanning the faces of the students pouring out. Then he started typing:

“Where are you?”

A minute later — “Y/N, answer.”

Five minutes after that — he called.

Call rejected.

He never went inside. He hated the smell of institutional hallways and the dim light. But that day, James burst through the doors of the main building, ran around three lecture halls, checked the cafeteria, almost knocked over a professor. His heart was pounding somewhere in his throat. Panic washed over him in waves — he was already imagining the worst: she got upset and left. Even though you had never been that kind of person.

Luckily, he found you in the reading area on the second floor. You were sitting with headphones on, working on a report, and just didn’t hear the phone. James exhaled so loudly that you heard it and turned around. And then he simply hugged you. Tight, bone‑crushing tight. With one arm he pulled you to his chest, with the other he stroked the top of your head, threading his fingers through your soft hair.

“I got scared,” he said quietly and buried his nose in your temple.

You were confused and couldn’t say anything. It felt too good — both the hug and the fact that he had been so worried.

| JUHOON

Everyone in the group knew: you two liked each other. Everyone except the two of you. You noticed how Juhoon would casually end up next to you, how he’d straighten the edge of the tablecloth in front of you, how he’d hand you a napkin before you even had a chance to look around. But time after time, he just couldn’t say it outright.

At a mutual friend’s birthday party, everyone was split into pairs for a contest: you had to paint a portrait of the birthday person using paints. You and Juhoon got brushes and watery watercolors. You got so engrossed that you didn’t notice how you got your fingers covered in blue and red. Your hair kept falling into your face, getting in the way. You desperately blew at it, but the strands stubbornly fell back.

Juhoon watched this for a few minutes, even had time to film it. Then he silently pulled up a chair and sat down behind you. You froze when you felt his breath near your neck. He gently gathered your hair in his hands — cool fingers slid along your neck — and began to braid it. Slowly, as if he had done it a hundred times before.

You stopped breathing, staring straight ahead, but you no longer saw the canvas. For the first time all evening, you didn’t want anyone to notice how hard you were blushing.

| MARTIN

The fireworks were promised exactly at midnight. You reached the sea fifteen minutes before the start. The night was quiet, the waves rolled in slowly, as if afraid to scare away the evening.

You turned your face to the wind and closed your eyes. When you opened them, you felt hands on your shoulders. Martin hugged you from behind, carefully, almost timidly. His chin rested on the top of your head. You felt his warmth, his breath, and that strange sense of security when a tall person looms over you — as if creating a dome.

“Cozy,” you whispered, and didn’t recognize your own voice.

You realized you had made up your mind. Slowly you turned around in his arms to look into his eyes. But just as your gazes met, Martin flinched, pressed his elbows to his sides, and blurted out:

“Just no tickling! You can... kiss me.”

You laughed. He looked at you both scared and in love. And at that moment fireworks exploded behind him. But neither of you turned around.

| SEONGHYEON

Before, everything was simple. You would meet after school, chat, argue about games. But at some point, Seonghyeon seemed to flip a switch. At first you didn’t pay much attention: okay, he took your bag — so what.

“I’ll carry it myself,” he said so seriously that it wasn’t about a light canvas bag but a sack of stones.

Then you noticed the rest. If you slowed down on the street, wondering which way to turn, his hand would immediately land on your back. A quiet, soothing stroke and a look that said:

“Where to now? Do you need anything?”

As if you were a queen and he was a devoted knight.

But the real thing happened on a park bench. Seonghyeon silently took your hand. He interlaced your fingers, squeezed a little tighter than usual. And didn’t let go. Not when you got up from the bench, not when you went for coffee, not when you tried to free your hand to fix your hair.

“No need, I’ll do it,” he said softly and helped you.

You could feel his pulse. And suddenly you understood: he wasn’t playing the gentleman. He just didn’t know any other way to say what was inside him.

| KEONHO

He was always nearby. Too nearby. You had noticed it long ago: in cafés, Keonho would sit across from you but look somewhere past you. In the cinema, he’d put his elbow on the armrest so close to your hand that he’d touch it. And when you turned, he’d immediately look away with an innocent expression. A good friend. A very good friend. The kind who watches your every move and pretends not to care.

That day, you were eating ice cream. Keonho wolfed down his cone in thirty seconds, not even wincing from the cold. You, on the contrary, were savoring it: licking the edges, squinting with pleasure, drawing out the moment.

And then — a sudden movement. Keonho jumped up, pushed his chair aside, grabbed yours, and moved it closer to the window. Then he sat down opposite, literally half a meter away, propped his elbows on the table and stared straight into your eyes. You froze with the ice cream at your lips.

“Just don’t move,” he breathed out and snatched his phone. “I want to photograph a beautiful sunset.”

You were about to feel a little offended, to move aside so as not to ruin the shot. But Keonho immediately reached out his hand to stop you:

“Come back. You’re the main thing in this photo.”

When the sun was setting behind his shoulder, but he was looking only at you, you suddenly realized that the ice cream no longer mattered.

CORTIS × fem!reader

genre: fluff, heart comfort

| MARTIN

At first, he just touched you lightly: took your hand, fixed your hair. It was sweet. But then those touches became more frequent and bolder. His hand no longer just rested on your shoulder, but hugged you tighter, longer. A kiss on the cheek lingered, turning into something tender on your temple. It was as if he had stopped noticing that invisible line that made you uncomfortable. It seemed like every time he wanted to touch you a little closer than the last. And you felt yourself becoming embarrassed by this insistent, warm closeness.

| JAMES

James was visible but inaccessible. His presence was quiet, almost imperceptible: a glance across the room, a slight smile in response to a joke. He kept his distance, as if surrounded by an invisible chill. And then something broke. He suddenly became your shadow. His hand was tightly intertwined with yours. His shoulder constantly touched yours, as if looking for a foothold. He was no longer just nearby — he seemed to grow into your space, drawn by a silent, inexplicable force. And his palm, warm and clinging, no longer let go — it held on, as if afraid that if he opened his fingers, you would dissolve into thin air. And you froze, feeling your own heart beating in time with this strange, sudden attachment, mixed with a slight anxiety.

| JUHOON

Juhoon's tactility was like melting ice—slow, almost imperceptible. His touch was not on your skin, but in the space between you. It was a gaze that lingered a second longer than it should have, turning into a quiet, warm touch to the soul. A gesture with his hand, indicating that you should go first, was not just politeness, but a silent shield, his way of protecting you without even coming close. His closeness was measured not in centimeters, but in the security, he created around you. Sometimes, when he laughed, his shoulder might accidentally brush against yours, and he would immediately pull away as if he had been burned. He didn't hold your hand. He just held the door, caught your eye in the crowd, and created an invisible cocoon of quiet attention around you.

| SEONGHYEON

Seonghyeon's touch spoke the language of timid determination. He would blush and cling to your hand for hours, his fingers warm and slightly sweaty with excitement. He would hug you around the shoulders, pulling you into his space, but at the same time looking away, as if he were doing it by accident. And then there was that awkward, sudden impulse — a sudden kiss, more like a frightened touch of lips to cheek. And an instant retreat, as if he had been burned by his own courage. He pulled away, running his hand awkwardly over the back of his head, allowing the distance to grow again. But his hand always returned. Seeking yours. Clinging to your fingers. His embraces, even awkward ones, were as constant as breathing.

| KEONHO

He was like a hurricane—his touch sudden, all-consuming, leaving no choice. From the first meeting, he confidently embraced you as if you had known each other forever. There was no hint of doubt or seeking permission in his touch — only generous, almost brotherly spontaneity. He could hug you around the shoulders, ruffle your hair, lightly touch your back as he led you through the crowd. And when saying goodbye — invariably, like a ritual — his lips would gently and precisely touch your forehead. This kiss was not passionate, but caring, yet so final, as if he were stamping a seal: “I am here. You are protected.”

CORTIS × fem!reader

genre: fluff, heart comfort

| JAMES

James stared at the phone screen clutched in his sweaty palm. Messages from you were coming less frequently than usual, and through the lines "I'm fine" and "just a migraine," suffering seeped through. He pictured you curled into a ball on the bed in a dark room.

When should he come? He was torn between the desire to help and the fear of disturbing your peace.

In the end, he simply went, buying on the way a bottle of that strange mineral water you drank on such days. The one with magnesium. Fruits, chocolate bars, and some ready-made food. The door opened into semi-darkness. You stood there pale and tired. "You shouldn't have come," you whispered. "I look terrible."

James didn't reply. He put the bag on the table, ran his cool palm over your hot forehead. Then he found your hand and squeezed it. The minutes he spent just sitting next to you, asking about how you were feeling, you valued most of all. And before leaving, leaning down, he gently, barely touching, kissed your temple, right where he knew the pain was throbbing.

| MARTIN

You loved wandering the mall with Martin, picking out new clothes for his photoshoot with friends. The bright lights, stuffy air, mixed smells from the food court – it all washed over you in a wave. At first, you just grew quiet, then the world began to swim before your eyes, and a familiar, unpleasant lump rose in your throat.

"Martin," you whispered, grabbing his sleeve, "I'm going to be sick."

His face changed instantly. All the laughter with which he'd just been shaking some terribly cringe sweatshirt vanished. Martin looked around, his gaze catching on the pharmacy cross at the far end of the hall. "Hang on," he said shortly, and his hand, strong and sure, settled on your back, guiding you through the crowd.

He sat you down on a bench, tossing out, "Don't move!" You felt like a little girl next to a big uncle, like a treasure. Two minutes later, he was back, out of breath, with a bottle of cool water and a blister pack of pills. Opening one, he placed it in your palm. "Take it. Slowly."

While you swallowed painfully, he crouched next to you, not taking his eyes off you. "That's it. Let's go home. We'll buy the clothes another time. My main thing is for you to be okay," he declared as if it were the only possible plan in the universe.

| JUHOON

The evening at Juhoon's was quiet and warm. You were watching a movie together, snuggled up against him. But suddenly, a dull, insistent pain arose low in your abdomen. It grew, tightening into a taut, relentless knot. You tried not to show it, but your body betrayed you: you squirmed, searching for a position that would offer even a little relief.

"Something wrong?" his voice sounded right by your ear, anxious and soft.

You gave in, whispered: "My stomach… It hurts terribly."

Juhoon didn't ask for details. He carefully lifted the edge of your t-shirt, exposing your skin. His palm, wide and warm, settled on the most painful spot. And he began to rub. Slowly, clockwise, with incredible, dissolving tenderness.

"My mom used to do this for me when I was little," he said quietly, as if sharing the most intimate secret. "It helps babies and adults. Just relax."

The pressure of his hand was perfect – not pressing, but convincing. The pain retreated, unable to withstand this rhythmic, hypnotic circle. You closed your eyes, sinking into this movement, into his care, which was simpler and more effective than any words.

| SEONGHYEON

The break between classes was a short uproar in the hallway. You were standing by the window, and another sneezing fit washed over you – loudly, helplessly. You rummaged frantically in your bag, fishing out another tissue.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Seonghyeon. He was sitting on the windowsill nearby, and his usually calm face expressed confusion. He looked at you, then looked away, then looked again.

He didn't approach immediately, didn't ask silly questions. Instead, you saw him quickly type something on his phone, then call over one of his friends. A minute later, Seonghyeon was standing in front of you, shielding you from curious glances.

In his hand was a small white pill and a bottle of water.

"This is an antihistamine," he said quietly, not meeting your eyes, as if embarrassed. "My friend suffers from pollen. I think you should take it."

He offered it all to you, and in his gesture there was neither pompousness nor intrusiveness – just simple, slightly awkward care. You took the pill, and he stood silently nearby while you drank, creating a quiet, protective cocoon with his presence in the noisy stream of students.

| KEONHO

All day, Keonho sent you funny gifs of skates and penguins falling on the ice. "Can't wait for our evening," he wrote in the evening. But overnight your body gave out: your throat swelled, your temperature soared, your nose was running.

In the morning, the doorbell rang. On the doorstep stood Keonho, with dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and a huge bag in his hands.

"I bought out half the pharmacy," Keonho announced hoarsely, coming inside. He didn't lecture you, he just started acting: brewed tea, carefully squeezed lemon into it, stirred in honey with a spoon. "Drink. Mom says it's a magic potion," he said, handing you the mug. His hands were very warm.

In the evening, when you tried to send Keonho away, he firmly refused.

"I'd rather catch your flu than know you're suffering alone," he whispered, kissing you on the lips despite all your hoarse protests. He stayed, holding you, and his breath on your neck was even and soothing.

CORTIS × fem! reader

genre: boyfriend!au, fluff, humor

Just moments when they realised how much they love you :з

| JAMES

"I know it's Saturday morning," James heard your voice. "But I need three minutes. Okay?"

You were standing by the stove, flipping pancakes, and speaking while looking out the window. You were talking about a colleague at work who had once again taken your brilliant idea and passed it off as her own. You spoke evenly, without hysterics, but James, rubbing his face with his palms, was already listening.

He saw your relaxed shoulders, your calm movements. You weren't demanding immediate justice from him, weren't waiting for big words. You were simply sharing your day, knowing that your favorite man would hear you. And he caught every word. Your calm was vitally important.

"...and in the end, I just said: 'Girl, I'm glad you liked my concept'," you finished, placing a plate with a perfect pancake in front of him. "But you can go to hell!"

James held your hand for a second.

"And what did she do?"

"She blushed. Hesitated. Ran off. So, basically, just as you taught me, it worked," you smiled and looked at him.

He cut off a piece of the pancake.

"I'm proud of you, baby," he said.

| KEONHO

The macroeconomics lecture dragged on endlessly. Keonho, sitting in the last row, had been fighting sleep for half an hour, and the sun from the window kept shining right in his eyes. He automatically reached for his briefcase, feeling around in the side pocket for his glasses case, but his fingers bumped into something smooth and cool.

He pulled out a small bottle of orange juice, the exact brand he always got from the vending machine near the gym. Next to it lay a note, scribbled in your neat handwriting: "So you don't fall asleep. And so your eyes don't get tired from the sun."

Keonho turned around. Two rows behind, you were sitting, buried in your notes.

Later, during the break, you walked over to him, taking a sip from your water bottle.

"Did the juice save you?" you asked simply.

"Totally," he said, pointing to the almost empty bottle. "How did you know about this brand?"

"You said once that all the others have too much pulp. And this one is 'how it should be'."

He didn't remember saying that. It must have been a passing remark tossed out a couple of weeks ago when you were rushing to an English class together. But you had caught it. Registered it. And turned it into the care he was now holding in his hands.

"You..." he stumbled, not finding words that wouldn't sound pompous. "But you don't drink orange juice. You have a slight allergy to it, actually."

You just shrugged, and in that gesture was so much calm naturalness.

"So what? You drink it. I love oranges, but I can't eat them. You're right."

And in that moment, Keonho understood why you were so attentive to him. He smiled his beautiful smile, took your hand, and gently kissed it.

| SEONGHYEON

It started in the morning. Seonghyeon, with his briefcase in hand and the most innocent expression on his face, ended up at that very bakery twenty minutes from his house where you always got coffee before class.

"Oh, hi," he said, putting on a surprised look. "I was... dropping my car off at the shop nearby. Decided to take a walk. Want me to grab some coffee?"

He knew you got a coconut milk cappuccino and an almond croissant. And he ordered the same thing without asking.

Then, after classes, he "accidentally" ended up in the same packed library where you were looking for a history book.

"Ah, it's you," he pretended to bump into your table. "My head is spinning. Could I sit near?"

He silently sat next to you for an hour, flipping through some science journal, and only when you closed your textbook did Seonghyeon get up with you.

In the evening, when you had stayed late in the computer lab working on a website layout for a project, he suddenly knocked on the door, holding two bags of ramen.

"Just stopped by for a minute," he muttered, looking away. "Thought you might be hungry. I was at that cafe downstairs, you know, they give big portions..."

He was everywhere. And finally he came late at night when he, "on his way home," offered to walk you through the dark park, even though his dorm was in the completely opposite part of the city. Under the streetlamp where the path forked, he suddenly stopped.

"Okay," he exhaled, surrendering. "I didn't drop off my car. And I ate dinner at home. And in the library, I wasn't working on my project. I just... wanted to be near you. The whole time"

He wasn't looking at you, his ears were burning. But you were more perceptive and simply gave him a tight hug.

| MARTIN

Martin's phone blew up all Saturday. His messages were like anxious, yet restrained telegrams:

"Good morning. Any plans?"

"If you're free, maybe coffee?"

"Or a movie? I saw there's a premiere."

"...Just walking around. If you get free, let me know."

The replies came delayed, laconic and vaguely detached: "Hi," "A bit busy," "Maybe later, I'll text closer to evening."

By evening, he gave up, settling into the living room with a book he couldn't read. Every car passing by the window made him flinch. Every creak in the stairwell made him freeze. He was jealous. Not of anyone specific, but of that shapeless "busy" that had crossed him out of her day.

And then, a key clicked in the lock. He hadn't given you a copy, but you knew where he hid the spare under the doormat — a small sign of the trust that was now so shaky.

You entered without knocking, took off the shoes you were tired of, and went straight to the living room. Martin didn't move from his spot, only looked up at you, his gaze full of silent questions.

And you didn't explain anything. You didn't say "sorry" or "it's not what you think." You simply walked over to his armchair, knelt on the carpet between his spread legs, placed your palms on his tense knees, and looked him straight in the eyes. There was no guilt in your gaze. There was quiet resolve and weariness.

"All done," you said softly. "I'm free now."

And before he could exhale, open his mouth for the next question, you reached for him and pressed your lips to his. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but a calming one. It tasted of your cherry lip gloss. Martin calmed down, and all the questions, all the tension of the day dissolved in that single gesture. His arms naturally wrapped around you, pulling you closer. He didn't know what to say from happiness. And this was more than any words.

| JUHOON

You were standing by the bookshelf, on tiptoe, trying to get the old photo album from the top shelf. You were wearing his stretched-out house socks and a big t-shirt.

Juhoon sat in the armchair and watched you. You didn't know he was watching. All your concentration was on the tips of your fingers, barely hooking the album's spine. He saw the line of your shoulder tense, your neck stretch. He heard your soft snort of effort.

And in that moment, he wasn't just loving you. He was admiring. You finally pulled the album down, almost dropping a couple of other books, and, snorting victoriously, turned around. And immediately met his gaze. You weren't embarrassed. You smiled that calm, understanding smile that only those who have been loved well and for a long time have.

"Peeking at me, Mr. Turtle?" you asked, casually hugging the album.

"Yes," he admitted honestly. His voice sounded deeper than usual. "It's my absolute favorite thing to do."

You laughed and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. And you feel that you don't need any greater happiness.

pairing: riize × fem!reader

genre: pg-13, fluff

| SHOTARO

"Shotaro," you said innocently. "Tell me, if we got lost in some huge store... where would you look for me first?"

He slowly looked up at you, his face showing total concentration, like you'd just asked him a quantum physics question. He even adjusted imaginary glasses on his nose.

"First of all," he began carefully, "I wouldn't go to the exit or the parking lot. You're not the type to panic."

You raised an eyebrow, ready to laugh.

"I would go," he continued, staring into space, "to the household cleaning aisle. To the shelves with the air fresheners."

"Air fresheners?" you couldn't help it, the corners of your mouth twitched.

"'Frosty Morning Forest', 'Grandma's Rhubarb Pie', 'Smell of a Brand-New Tablet'. You would definitely stop there to press all the buttons and make that same face—a mix of mild disgust and scientific curiosity. Your 'Ew, and this is called 'Fresh Alpine Meadow'?' can be heard three aisles away."

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand.

"And if you're not there either," Shotaro said just as seriously, "the second spot is the sock sale section. Not because you need socks. But because you're endlessly annoyed that socks on 70% sale only come in sets of 'three different sizes and five psychedelic colors'. You stand and look at that box like it's a personal insult for a full ten minutes."

Now you were laughing under your breath, hunched over the table.

You laughed out loud, your forehead on the table, your shoulders shaking. You breathed out through the laughter:

"So... your strategy... is based on my... disgusted curiosity and... sense of justice for socks?"

"Those are the most reliable markers," Shotaro nodded, completely satisfied with his logic. His eyes, however, held a warm smile. He poured you more tea. "Besides, in the air freshener aisle, you always sneeze twice. In a row."

You wiped away a few tears that came out and reached across the table to kiss him on the cheek.

"You are the strangest and best husband in the world. No one but you would look for me by the smell of fake forests and outrage over socks."

"That's because I know you better than anyone."

| EUNSEOK

"Eunseok, three words. How would you describe me to someone who doesn't know me?"

"I don't want to," Eunseok said sharply and frowned. "I don't want some stranger... to even imagine you in their thoughts..."

He fell silent. You could see he didn't want to share even with words. But then his expression softened. He looked at you and quietly exhaled:

"Endless," he said slowly with a smile. "One of a kind. Mine."

He paused, letting you absorb the meaning.

"'Endless'—because every day I discover new sides of you and you seem limitless to me. 'One of a kind'—because there's only one you in this world. And 'mine'..." he smiled softly and gave a satisfied little laugh, "...that's about how my world only exists where you are. Well, and I won't give you to anyone."

You thought Eunseok was joking again, but you didn't laugh. Instead, you hugged him tightly and got showered with kisses.

| SUNGCHAN

That evening in the kitchen, Sungchan was washing dishes, and you were sitting on the table, swinging your legs, watching him.

"Sungchan," you suddenly asked. "Is there a smell that instantly reminds you of me?"

He dried his hands, turned around, and smiled, as if he'd hooked a light memory.

"Of course there is," he said without hesitation. "The smell of burning toast."

You practically jumped.

"Burning toast?!" you snorted. "That's the most romantic image you could come up with?!"

"Yeah," he nodded, laughing at your reaction. "But not just burnt bread. That moment when it just starts to smell like smoke, and you run squealing to the toaster, grab it, and start waving a towel to chase the smoke away. That light, panicky smell of danger is in the air, mixed with the smell of a fresh morning, coffee, and your lip gloss. And while you're saving breakfast, I stand there and think, 'God, how I love her.'"

He fell silent, looking at your wide eyes. "So yes. My favorite person smells like a small disaster and happiness. Like burning toast."

You opened your mouth to protest, but instead jumped off the table and hugged Sungchan, pressing your face into his shoulder.

"Idiot," you whispered and felt his strong arms squeeze you in a hug. "But thank you. That's awful... and perfect."

| WONBIN

You were lying in each other's arms in complete silence, but both were awake. You suddenly propped yourself up and poked him in the chest with your finger.

"Wonbin. Confess, what do you know about me that no one else knows? Something real."

In the dark, you heard his quiet chuckle. He turned, and in the half-light, his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint.

"Hmm..." he paused, clearly enjoying the moment. "I know what you look like when you secretly eat strawberry-chocolate ice cream straight from the tub in the bathtub at 3 AM on a Friday."

You sat up sharply in bed.

"What?! I never...!"

"Shh," he pulled you back, hugging you. His voice trembled with laughter. "You have a special, solemn pose. You sit on the edge of the bathtub in complete darkness, naked, waiting for the water to fill up. And you don't just eat it. You look at the spoon first and lick it. And when you think no one sees that you've eaten all the ice cream... you lick the whole container clean with your fingers."

"Oh my god," you whispered, feeling your whole face and ears burn with shame. This was your stupid, carefully secret Friday-night ritual. "You... you were spying?!"

"No. Once I just got up in the middle of the night, wanted to go to the bathroom, and caught a masterpiece. And now I know." He pulled you closer, kissing your temple, cheek, and lips. "And it's my favorite secret of yours. Because it's funny, weird, and cool. Queen of the midnight ice cream."

You groaned in embarrassment, hiding your face in his chest, but your body shook with laughter. It was terribly awkward and funny. And at the same time, incredibly sweet that he kept this silly secret like a real treasure.

| SOHEE

The traffic jam was boring and long. Sohee was just staring into space, and you were scrolling through your news feed on your phone, a sly smile suddenly lighting up your face.

"Imagine I got arrested right now, in this car," you said, not looking up from the screen. "The very first, most honest thought in your head—for what?"

Sohee blinked, slowly shifting his gaze from the road to you, then to your phone, where photos of some incredibly young guy with red hair were sliding by. His face became stony.

"For... predatory advances toward underage members of new boy bands," he squeezed out in a hollow, tragic voice.

Silence fell in the car, immediately broken by your outraged gasp.

"WHAT?! Sohee, are you out of your mind?! What 'underage'?! He's twenty-two!"

"He looks sixteen!" Sohee countered, and for the first time that evening, real, live reproach sounded in his voice. "And it's not just fandom! It's a system! You have a whole dossier! You know their debut date, the names of all the group members, their heights, weights, favorite colors, and nut allergies! You watch their livestreams at 4 AM and cry when they win their first award! You buy albums ten copies at a time to 'support the charts'! That's not a hobby! That's... that's an obsession! And the objects of your obsession are young, defenseless boys you call 'my babies'! A detective would look at your Twitter feed and issue a warrant immediately!"

You sat there, red with rage and wild embarrassment. Everything he said was the absolute truth, and that made it a thousand times worse.

"It's supporting talent! It's aesthetic enjoyment! I'm not doing anything illegal!"

"And what about your 'theoretical posts'?" he continued with icy prosecutor's logic. "'What would I do if my imaginary idol son came home with a tattoo?' That's planning scenarios of influence! You're mentally building a relationship with them! Even if it's in the framework of motherly care! To the law, that looks like... like creating a cult!"

You wanted to scream that he was crazy, that he was comparing fan love to a crime... but something inside you twitched with wild laughter. The picture was too absurd: you, a grown woman, on trial for excessive motherly love toward twenty-two-year-old guys dancing in sync.

You snorted, then giggled, then laughed so hard you dropped your phone.

"Okay, let's say..." you squeezed out through laughter. "What would the evidence be? My collection of light sticks in seven different colors?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "Your handwritten 'letters to the future' that you write to every new member of a group! 'Hang in there, you can do it, the world is cruel, but your smiles are our salvation'! That's pure... emotional grooming! In court, your lawyer would go on about 'platonic maternal instinct', but the prosecutor would show screenshots where you call them 'little angels who need to be kept warm with scarves'!"

You were already crying from laughter, your head falling to your knees, shaking silently.

"Okay... I admit it... I'm a dangerous criminal... my motive is excessive care..." you breathed out. "And you? My accomplice, who listens to all these songs in the car and drives me to fan meetings?"

"I'm a victim of circumstances!" Sohee declared with flair, but his lips were already trembling with a smile. "I was recruited by exploiting my weakness for you! I drive you to the crime scenes and provide an alibi by going to get popcorn!"

The traffic finally started moving. He started the car, and you, still sniffling from laughter, reached over and clung to his shoulder.

"I only love you. And they... they're just my innocent, distant, very talented babies."

"I know," he sighed, kissing the top of your head. "But if they ever actually take you away, I'll yell: 'She's innocent! She just loves them... like a fan-mom!' And we'll be the most ridiculous prisoners in history."

And you drove on, to your new favorite song that he already knew by heart, laughing together at the madness that bound you.

| ANTON

"Anton," you said, watching him push you on the swing. "So what is it about me that makes it impossible not to love me?"

Anton paused again, as if searching for the right words.

"Your... absolute vulnerability," he finally breathed out.

You slowly straightened up, the swings rocking harder.

"What? You think I'm weak?"

"No," he shook his head, and a warm, embarrassed conviction sounded in his voice. "Not at all. I mean something else. Like how you can cry over a commercial about kitten and puppy food. Or admit you're terrified of the dark in the stairwell. Or loudly and sincerely admire someone's dress on the street, even though no one asked you. Many people act indifferent to seem strong. But you don't. You don't hide your tenderness, your silliness, or your fear. You remind me what it's like to be alive, to be vulnerable, to be myself. It reminds me that both you and I are human."

He fell silent, as if he'd run out of air. You didn't laugh, didn't protest. You got off the swing, walked over, hugged him, pressing your forehead to his chest, and stood like that for a long time, feeling his heart beating—fast and loud, like he'd just run a marathon. Then you lifted your head and kissed him—softly, gratefully, without a single word.

And then Anton, as if someone had switched him, sharply exhaled, pulled away, and walked off down the alley, almost running, stuffing his burning ears into his jacket collar.

"Anton, where are you going?!" you shouted after him, your voice a mix of surprise and tenderness.

"For... for that coffee you wanted!" his muffled voice came from the darkness. "Or anywhere, really! I'm just walking!"

And you ran after him, laughing and tripping over invisible bumps, chasing him down.