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𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺, the kind of quiet that only happens late at night. The lights are dim, the window cracked open just enough to let cool air in. Keonho’s sitting beside you on your bed, close enough that your knees keep bumping. He’s fidgeting, you notice because he always does this when he’s nervous, thumb rubbing against the seam of his hoodie, shoulders a little tense, eyes flicking anywhere but your face. “...you okay?” you ask softly.
He nods too fast. “Y-yeah, I’m good. Just—” He stops, exhales, laughs under his breath. “I’m just thinking.”
“Huh...About?” He finally looks at you then, cheeks already pink. “uhm, us...” That makes your heart jump. Neither of you speaks for a moment. The space between you feels a little louder than anything else in the room. Keonho swallows. “Can i... ask you something?” You nod, suddenly very aware of how close his hand is to yours. “Is it okay if I—” He trails off, shaking his head. “Sorry. I’m being weird.”
“You’re not,” you say quickly. “You can ask.” He takes another breath, steadying himself. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” Your brain all of a sudden stopped. You manage a small nod. “...Yeah.” His eyes soften instantly, relief washing over his face, but he still doesn’t move right away.
Instead, he lifts a hand, hesitating inches from your cheek like he’s asking without words. You lean in just a little. That’s all it takes. The kiss is gentle, barely there at first, like he’s afraid of messing it up. His lips are warm and soft, and he pulls back almost immediately, eyes wide. “Was that—” he starts.
You don’t let him finish. This time, you kiss him. It’s still shy, still slow, but surer now. His hand finds your sleeve, fingers curling like he doesn’t quite know where to put them, but knows he doesn’t want to let go. When you pull back, his forehead drops against yours. “...w-wow,” he whispers. You laugh quietly. “Good wow or bad wow?” He smiles, small, stunned, completely speechless.
“Really good wow.” He stays close, thumb brushing your knuckles. “I’ve wanted to do that,” he admits. “I just didn’t want to rush you.” You squeeze his hand. “I’m glad it was with you.”
His smile grows, and this time, when he kisses you again, it’s a little braver—still sweet and soft, but full of something warm and real. You think this might be one of those moments you’ll remember 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿.
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๑⠀ 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖺'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ⠀◟⠀❤︎ ♡ ◝ i really love the farmers aesthetic lols, lwk ahh anyways i hope u guys like it. lmk if u did <3 ᯇ⠀ 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 ❤︎
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗞𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗵𝗼 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘂𝗽, 𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘄𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀. A whole basket, pays in exact coins, Thanks you politely and leaves.
The second time, he buys another basket. “Didn’t you come yesterday?” you ask, leaning on the wooden stand. He freezes for half a second, like he got caught doing something illegal. “Uhh. Yeah.”
“You eat that many strawberries?”
“…I like strawberries.” You nod slowly, not convinced, but you let him take the basket anyway. After that, he starts coming every few days. Sometimes after swim practice, hair still damp, hoodie thrown over his shoulders. Sometimes on weekends, when the sun is high and the field smells sweet and warm.
He always stands there a little awkwardly, hands in his pockets while you weigh the strawberries.
“Are you- busy today?” he asks one afternoon.
“Not really.”
“….Oh.”
You hand him the basket. “You can stay and help if you want.” His eyes widen. “H-help?”
“Yeah. If you’re going to keep buying strawberries like a suspicious person, you might as well earn them.” He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. But he stays. You show him how to pick the good ones—turn them gently, look underneath the leaves. His hands are careful, like he’s afraid he’ll break something.
“You swim, right?” you ask. He nods. “Yeah...”
“That’s why you’re always here wet.” He blushes immediately. “I’m not—”
“You are.” You keep working, pretending not to notice. After a while, he says quietly, “I actually don’t need this many strawberries.”
You glance at him. “No?” He shakes his head, smiling a little.
“I just wanted to come here.”
“Why?” He hesitates, fingers brushing over the leaves of a strawberry plant. “....You’re here,” he admits. You feel your face warm. “Well,” you say, handing him another basket,
“then you should come again...tomorrow..” He lights up like you just gave him something much better than strawberries. “....Yeah,” he says quickly.
“i-i'd like that.” And for the first time since he started showing up, he forgets to pretend the strawberries were the reason.
౨ৎ. header by the talented amazing bbypie ; @coergene . ❤︎
📞 . 𝟬𝟭 𝟬𝟮 𝟬𝟯 𝟬𝟰
๑⠀ 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖺'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ⠀◟⠀❤︎ ♡ ◝ haven’t posted in so long omfd!!!! this is a gift to everyone in moranation i love you guys smmmm yall don't know‼️‼️imissed u guys sm, i hope everyone's doing well and mora luvs u all 😽 🤗 💌 ᯇ⠀ 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 ❤︎
౨ৎ 𝘀. can yall see i'm so ready for the summer omds 🙏 here is vacation with bae hyeon & keonho... enjoy <3
౨ৎ. 𝘄𝗰. 𝟭.𝟭𝟱𝗸
comment on this POST , if u want to be added to my perm taglist!
this is similair to my fic ౨ৎ. don't smile
𝗦𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗵𝘆𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱. “Beach this weekend,” he says, leaning against your locker, sun already warming the hallway windows. “Keonho and i are going. You should come.” You blink. “Like.....actually the beach?”
“Yeah,” he grins. “Mini trip. no stress at all.” Keonho, standing a few feet away, looks up immediately. “You’re coming?”
The way he says it, hopeful but not pushing──makes you smile. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’d like that.” 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲 there feels like summer even though it’s not. Windows down, music loud, Seonghyeon drumming on the steering wheel while Keonho sings terribly on purpose. “Bro, You’re ruining the song,” you laugh. “That’s the point,” Keonho says proudly. Seonghyeon reaches over, lacing his fingers with yours for just a second before letting go to steer.
𝘼𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝, everything is bright and warm. Shoes come off, toes sink into the sand, Bags get dropped. Keonho squints at the ocean. “You chose the windiest place possible.”
“It’s called atmosphere. dumbass”
“It’s called sand in your eyes.” You laugh. seonghyeon runs straight toward the water, turning back to grin at you. “Last one in buys snacks!”
“That’s not fair,” you protest, chasing after him anyway. Keonho follows, laughing, pretending to sprint before dramatically slowing down. “I’m conserving energy!” The water is cold, but not enough to hurt. Seonghyeon splashes you lightly, and you gasp. “Oh my gosh—” He laughs, hands up. “I barely touched you!” Keonho wades in too, standing beside you. “He’s lying.” You splash Seonghyeon back. “Traitor.” Keonho grins like he’s won something.
𝗟𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿, you’re stretched out on towels, sun drying your hair. Seonghyeon offers you his hoodie when you say you’re cold without even thinking about it. 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣, Keonho points toward a row of stands further down. “Fruit,” he announces. “And drinks.” Seonghyeon groans. “I wanted açai bowls.”
“You’ll survive.” You walk with Keonho while Seonghyeon stays back to guard the bags. The fruit stand is bright, watermelon, mango, pineapple stacked high. The guy behind the counter hands you cups overflowing with color. Keonho pays before you can argue. “Hey—”
“oh please,” he says. “Just take it.” You sit on a low wall nearby, juice dripping down your fingers almost immediately. “This is messy,” you laugh. Keonho hands you napkins. “I see.”
You catch him watching you take a bite, like he’s waiting for your reaction. “Oh,” you say. “This is so good.” He grins, satisfied, taking his own bite. “Told you.” Juice stains his fingers too. He notices, frowns at them like they’ve betrayed him. “You’ve got some—” you gesture. “Where?” You reach out without thinking, wiping his thumb with a napkin. It’s quick, But both of you pause. “Oh,” you say softly, pulling back. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he replies, just as quiet. Neither of you mentions it when you walk back.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙤𝙤𝙣, drifts by in pieces, collecting shells, Seonghyeon walks on your other side, quieter but still loud in his own way, pointing things out. “Yo, That shell looks like a heart,” he says, crouching down. You bend beside him. “It’s broken.”
“Still counts, right?.” He hands it to you anyway. “Please..Keep it,” he adds, casual. You slip it into your pocket, smiling. “I will, thank you..”
𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣, Seonghyeon insisting on taking photos even though you didn't really want to. “Smile,” he says, holding his phone up. “I am smiling.”
“That’s a lie.” Keonho laughs from behind him.“Yeah..thats perfect, take it now.” When the sun starts to set, the air cools. You sit between them on the sand, knees pulled up, watching the sky turn pink and orange. “This is nice,” you say quietly. Seonghyeon nods. “Yeah. I’m glad you came.”
Keonho adds softly, “Me too.” They don’t look at each other when they say it.
That night, back where you’re staying, you end up on the couch together, legs tangled, a movie playing that none of you are really watching. Seonghyeon leans back, pulling you with him so you’re halfcurled against his side. It feels natural at this point. Keonho sits close too, shoulder pressed to yours on the other side. At one point, you laugh at something dumb on the screen, and both of them look at you at the same time,
사랑. 𝐒𝐘𝐍.ㅤㅤ──ㅤㅤmoving to a new city means :: new friends, new house, new school, new problems and maybe a new lover. you didn’t think of it too much, so. no problem right?
DEA'S NOTE ; omds chat im so sorry for letting yall down.... HOPE U GUYS ENJOYY
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. ᴀʜɴ ᴋᴇᴏɴʜᴏ x f .ᐟr ❤︎ ᶻ 𝘇 On the same day as his birthday, Valentine’s Day, and their one-month anniversary You worry you didn’t do enough for Keonho’s birthday. He worries you’ll never see how much you already are. 𝗪𝗖 𝟭.𝟲𝗸 (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) fluff / kiss / domestic .ᐟ est. relationship ᶻ 𝘇
not proofread
dea's note ❤︎ our valentine boy turned 17 chat omds....sobbing... let's celebrate his birthday tgt ppl, have a nice valentine mwa (ps i can be ur valentine ;)
Keonho’s been at your place since the afternoon, shoes kicked off by the door, hoodie abandoned on your chair. He’s sprawled on your bed now, scrolling on his phone, legs kicking lazily while you pretend not to stare at him from your desk. “You’re being suspicious,” he says without looking up.
You blink. “I’m literally just existing.” He turns his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “You said that last year too.”
You groan. “Okay, rude. I was subtle last year.” He laughs, that familiar laugh you’ve memorized by now, and sits up. “Relax. I’m not expecting anything big.”
“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And Valentine’s Day. And our one-month.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “And I’m here. That’s already good.”
That makes your chest ache in the nicest way.
Later, you drag him into the kitchen where your parents have conveniently “gone out for a bit,” and the cake you definitely didn’t stress over sits slightly crooked on the table. There are candles too many for just one cake but Keonho doesn’t tease you for it.
Instead, he goes quiet. “….You made this?” he asks. You nod, suddenly shy. “It’s not perfect.”
He looks at you, then at the cake, then back at you again. His smile is small, real.
“I love it,” he says. “I love that you always try.”
When you make him blow out the candles, he closes his eyes a little longer than necessary.
“Okay,” he says after. “My turn.” He hands you a small box nothing fancy. Inside is something simple, something that clearly took thought. Something that proves he loves.
“I know it’s not a big anniversary or anything,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But one month with you feels…..important.” You don’t even think before leaning in and hugging him, arms tight around his shoulders. He hugs you back just as hard.
Later, you’re back on your bed, cake half eaten, legs tangled together, his head resting on your shoulder while some random movie plays in the background.
“Happy birthday,” you murmur.
“Happy Valentine’s,” he replies. “And happy one month.”
He tilts his head up just enough to kiss your cheek. “Happy us.”
an hour passes
You’re lying next to him on your bed, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the ceiling while the movie plays forgotten on your laptop. Keonho’s fingers are lazily tracing patterns on your arm, something he does without thinking now.
It’s comfortable. Too comfortable. That’s what makes the guilt creep in.
“…..Hey,” you mumble. He hums in response, turning his head toward you. “What’s up?”
You hesitate, chewing on your lip. “I feel like I didn’t really do much for your birthday.”
His hand stills.
You rush on before he can interrupt. “I mean—I know we had cake and stuff, and I know you said you didn’t need anything big, but still. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be more special.”
Keonho props himself up on one elbow, fully facing you now. “Hey.” You glance at him. His expression isn’t disappointed or upset just soft. A little confused, even.
“What do you mean?” he asks gently.
“I don’t know,” you admit. “I just keep thinking maybe I should’ve planned something more. Or gotten you something better. Or—” You sigh. “I don’t want you to look back and feel like it was boring.”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then he reaches out and cups your cheek, thumb warm against your skin.
“Can I tell you something?” he says.
You nod.
“This is the first birthday I’ve spent just….being myself,” he says slowly.
You blink.
“I got to come over. I got to eat cake you made. I got to sit on your bed and steal your blanket.” He smiles a little. “I got to spend it with my girlfriend.”
Your chest tightens.
“That’s not ‘not much,’” he continues. “That’s everything.”
You swallow. “Really?”
He laughs softly. “You keep thinking birthdays have to be huge to matter.” Then he leans closer, forehead resting against yours. “I was happy the whole day. That’s the part that matters.”
Your voice comes out small. “I just wanted to make you feel loved.” His thumb brushes under your eye. “I did. I do. You make me feel loved all the time.”
You don’t realize you’re tearing up until he notices.
“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, pulling you into his chest. “No crying on my birthday. That’s illegal.”
You laugh weakly, pressing your face into his shirt. “Sorry.”
He wraps both arms around you, holding you like there’s nowhere else he needs to be. “Don’t be. You care. That’s my favorite thing about you.”
You stay like that for a while, just breathing together. Then he adds, quieter, “Next year, we can do more if you want.”
You pull back slightly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “But only if we still do this part too.”
“…What part?”
He kisses your forehead, gentle.
“Us. At home. Together.”
You don’t even remember when the idea comes up, just that suddenly Keonho’s digging through one of your drawers with a triumphant, “Wait—YOU HAVE A POLAROID?” You groan. “It barely works.”
“That makes it aesthetic,” he says immediately.
Five minutes later, the room is a mess. The lamp’s been dragged closer for lighting, your bed’s a disaster of blankets, and Keonho’s sitting cross-legged on the floor like this is the most important mission of his life.
“Okay,” he says, holding the camera up. “First one. Birthday boy.”
You roll your eyes. “I hate posed photos.”
“Too bad,” he grins. “It’s my birthday.” You end up sitting beside him instead, shoulder pressed into his. The camera clicks, the photo whirring out slowly, and both of you immediately lean in to watch it develop.
You hover over it anxiously. “Do not shake it.”
“I wasn’t going to—”
“You always shake it.” He laughs but listens, setting it carefully on the desk. As the image slowly comes into focus, your heart stutters a little.
It’s not perfect. The lighting’s soft, a little dim. But you’re both smiling—real smiles. His eyes crinkle. Your head’s tilted toward him “…That’s cute,” he says quietly. You glance at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nudges you. “That one’s getting kept forever.”
You take more. One of him holding the cake, cheeks puffed as he tries not to laugh while the candles melt unevenly.
One of you mid-laugh, blurry because he clicked it too early.
One accidental one of the ceiling that he insists still counts because “it captures the vibe.”
Then he turns the camera on you.
“Okay,” he says. “My turn.”
You immediately hide your face. “Nooo, I look bad.”
“You look beautiful,” he says, way too easily.
That makes you pause.
You peek out just as the camera clicks.
The photo comes out, warm and soft. You’re sitting on your bed, hoodie sleeves too long, looking slightly surprised. Comfortable. At home.
He stares at it longer than the others.
“I like this one,” he says. You fidget. “I didn’t do much today.”
He doesn’t look up from the photo. “You did this.” He gestures around your room, the cake crumbs, the half-empty drink cups, the scattered polaroids.
“You gave me a day I’ll actually remember.” Your throat tightens again, but before you can say anything, he pulls you closer. “One more,” he says.
“Keonho—”
“Last one. Promise.” You end up curled into his side, his arm around you, your head tucked under his chin. No posing. No warning.
Click.
This one takes the longest to develop.
When it does, it shows exactly what the day felt like quiet, warm, safe. Like something you’ll look at years later and remember how young you were, how soft everything was, how much love fit into such a small room.
He flips it over and writes the date on the back, then adds:
us.
He hands it to you.“For when you feel like you didn’t do enough,” he says softly. “Look at this.”
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๑⠀ ⠀⠀mora's note ⠀⠀◟⠀♡⠀◝ this was requested!! and ty anonie for making me doing this CS I SAWWW THE VISION OMD i need to post my man martin more...anyways i made this very quick so i hope u guys all love this⠀⠀ᯇ⠀⠀⠀enjoy ❤︎.
( ᥫ᭡ · pairing ) ⠀ martin edwards x female!reader⠀★.
★ FAXON
btw guys..I rlly love this martin pic so *ehm* also ignore the timestamps please!!