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JUST KISS ME SPIDERMAN. martin edwards. ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹ ♡
❤︎ drabble───spiderman! martin, fluff , a little awkward & THE FAMOUS UP SIDE DOWN SPIDERMAN KISS. female reader!
He’s still half inside your room, one foot on the floor, the other hooked on your windowsill like he might leave any second.
Mask back on.
Because apparently that makes it easier for him.“You’re still mad...aren't you?” he says, You cross your arms. “a little.”
“That’s fair.” A pause. The city is quiet outside. Just cars passing by and the lights of streetlights, Your curtains move slightly with the night air. Martin fidgets with the edge of his glove. “…Can I make it up to you.”
You raise an eyebrow and sigh. “Martin..How.” He hesitates. then Actually hesitates. Which is rare for him.
“….i 've been wanting do to a thing,” he starts. “That’s not a good start.”
“No, wait—” he lets out a small laugh. “It’s not dumb, I swear.”
“Okay…” He shifts his weight, suddenly awkward again. “It’s like—” he gestures vaguely. “You hang upside down. And then you—” You blink. “…You want to hang upside down in my window.”
“When you say it like that it sounds weird.”
“It is weird.” He groans softly. “Okay, forget I said anything.”
He starts to pull himself back out the window—“Wait.” He pauses. You step closer, trying not to smile. “…Show me.” His head tilts slightly. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” A beat. Then, “Okay.” He climbs fully outside, gripping the top of your window frame. You watch him carefully—how natural it looks for him, like gravity just...works differently for him.“...Be careful.” He goes quiet. “...I will.” And then, Neither of you moves. You’re just there. Close. Too close.
“...So,” he says quietly. “Was the whole upside down thing worth it.” You don’t answer immediately, Your heart starts racing. “...maybe,” you say softly. “Maybe?” he repeats.You roll your eyes a little, but you don’t step back. “...Just—hold still.”
“I am literally hanging upside down,” he mutters. “I can’t get more still than this.” You huff a small laugh. Then lean in. You hesitate right before. Just for a second.
Because suddenly it feels real, Because this is Martin. Because he showed up for you. Because you’re not mad anymore.
“...Wait,” he says quickly. You freeze. “What.”
“...i've never done this upside down.” You stare at him.“...Me neither??”
“Righ...never mind.” a pause. “…Okay.”
“…Okay.” Neither of you moves.Then—You lean in again. This time, your lips actually meet. it's a little off. You bump slightly because of the angle, and he lets out a quiet, breathy laugh against your lips.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Shut up,” you whisper, trying not to smile. You adjust a little, one hand coming up to steady yourself on the window frame—The other, without really thinking, lightly holding onto his sleeve so he doesn’t swing.Then you try again.This time it lands better. soft, Still unsure. But you don’t pull away. And neither does he.There’s this small moment where you both just stay there—Not really moving.
Just...feeling it.His breathing is uneven. Yours too. Your lips press together again, a little more sure this time, lingering just a second longer than before. not perfect...not practiced. But real. And warm. And kind of overwhelming.
When you finally pull back, it’s slow. Like neither of you really wants to be the first to move.“…Oh..wow,” he says quietly. You let out a small breath. “..Yeah.” He’s still upside down, just staring at you through the mask like his brain hasn’t caught up yet.“...Wait,” he says. “What..?”
“…Can we—” You laugh softly. “You’re so—” But you lean in again anyway. This time it’s quicker, a little less awkward, like you both know what you’re doing now. A small, second kiss, Better and Easier. When you pull back, you’re both a little breathless.“Okay,..wow.” he says, voice soft and a little stunned. “That one was good.”
You smile, cheeks warm. “Yeah. It was.” He stays there for a second longer, like he forgot he’s literally hanging outside your window. Then—“Okay I might fall if I don’t move,” he mutters.“Please don’t die after that.”
“No promises.”
All of a sudden. Everything feels different in a warm way.
Like something just quietly shifted between you. He stays there for another second, like he doesn’t want to move. Then slowly pulls himself back up, flipping upright again and landing lightly on your windowsill. You’re both avoiding eye contact now.“...So,” he says. “So.”
“…Still a little mad?” You pretend to think about it. “...Maybe less.” He grins. “Worth it.” You shake your head, smiling.“…Get out of my window, Spider-Man.”
“Don't worry ma'am.” But he goes—dropping down, disappearing into the night. And this time, When you close the window. You’re still smiling.
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You’re sitting on the floor of his room, surrounded by Lego pieces like you’ve lost a tiny, colorful war, there’s a halfbuilt set between you, instructions ignored somewhere twenty minutes ago. Martin is kneeling across from you, sleeves pushed up, paint smudge on his wrist because you were also painting earlier and neither of you cleaned up properly.
“Okay,” he says, squinting at the pieces in his hand. “I think this goes....here?” You lean closer. “No baby, that one’s upside down.”
“Oh.” He laughs, immediately fixing it. “That explains a lot.” Your knees bump. Neither of you moves away. There’s paint drying on paper beside you, messy overlapping colors, nothing impressive.
Just something to do together. Martin glances at it, then at you. “I really like yours.”
“It’s literally just blue,” you say. “Yeah, but it’s, like...a good blue.” You snort. “You’re bad at compliments.”
“I’m trying,” he says defensively, smiling. You finish snapping a piece into place and set it down. For a second, there’s nothing to do. No instructions. No paint left to mix. Just him. He rocks back on his heels, then forward again, like he can’t decide what to do with himself. “Can I—uh—” You look up. “Yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck. “This is gonna sound dumb.”
“I like dumb.” That makes him smile, relieved. “Uhm—okay. Cool.” He takes a breath. “Can I kiss you?” Your stomach flips. You nod. “Y-yeah.” He leans in, hesitates, then commits. It’s a little off—your lips meet at a weird angle, too quick, too unsure.
He pulls back immediately. “...Sorry,” he says.You laugh. “It’s okay. That was kind of bad.”
“Thank Goodness,” he says, relieved. “I-i thought i messed it up.” There’s a beat. He looks at you, hopeful. “Can we try again?” You nod. “Please.” This time, he goes slower. You meet him halfway. The kiss lasts longer, still awkward, but warmer. His hand hovers near your knee, unsure, before resting there lightly.
Neither of you pulls away right away. it's no sparks or fireworks, just soft and steady and a little clumsy, like you’re both concentrating really hard.When you finally separate, Martin’s grinning like he just won something.
“...That was better,” he says. You smile. “Yeah. Much better.” He laughs, embarrassed, then reaches for another Lego piece. “Okay, cool. So. Uh. Do you want to finish the roof?”
You bump his shoulder. “You’re such a nerd.”
“I know,” he says proudly. Then, quieter: “But I’m really glad that was with you.” You go back to building, knees touching again, the room feeling warmer than before. And every now and then, he glances at you and smiles for no reason at all.
At some point, you both abandon the Lego.
Not on purpose, it just happens. Martin reaches for a piece, knocks over the paint water instead, and suddenly there’s a small, spreading puddle on the paper and your fingers are scrambling to save things. “NO—wait—oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he blurts, grabbing paper towels. You laugh. “It’s fine, it’s fine—” Except it’s not entirely fine, because there’s now a streak of blue paint on your sleeve, You look down. “Martin.” He freezes.
“What. What did I do.” You lift your arm. He stares, then visibly panics.“I—okay, okay, that’s my fault, I’ll wash it, I swear—” You dip your finger into the paint and swipe a small streak across his shirt. He gasps. “HEY.”
“You started it.” He looks down at the mark, then back up at you. There’s a split second where you think he might protest. Instead, he smiles. Wide. Mischievous. “Oh. It’s like that?” You barely have time to react before he gently dabs paint onto your other sleeve, laughing.
You retaliate. He dodges badly. Paint ends up on his wrist, your fingers, the floor. You’re both laughing too hard to stop. Eventually, you collapse back onto the floor, out of breath, paint everywhere, shoulders touching again.“We’re really bad at this,” he says. You grin. “Yeah.” There’s a quiet beat. The laughter fades into something softer.
Martin glances at you, then away, then back again. His energy shifts a bit—still the same, but nervous again. “...Can I ask you something?” he says.
You tilt your head. “You already know the answer’s probably yes.” He laughs, rubbing his thumb against his paint-stained fingers. “Yeah, but still.” He looks at you properly this time. “Can I kiss you again?” Your chest feels warm. You nod. “Yeah.”
He doesn’t rush it. He leans in slowly, giving you time to move away if you want to.You don’t. This kiss is still a little awkward, your noses brush, and he smiles into it, but it lasts longer. His hand rests lightly on your knee, paint smearing faintly onto your skin, neither of you caring. When you pull back, he stays close, forehead almost touching yours.
“...Okay,” he says softly. “Yeah. I liked that one.” You smile. “Me too.” He grins, that golden, pleased with himself grin. “Cool. Just checking.” You both look down at the mess around you—paint, Lego pieces, ruined paper. “Well,” you say, “we should probably clean up.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. Neither of you moves. After a second, he leans in again, quick and gentle this time, like he couldn’t help himself. “Sorry,” he says, smiling. “Last one.” You don’t believe him for a second.
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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
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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,
Seonghyeon x fem!reader (third person) angst/yearning, 1.4k
A/N: guess who's been reading books lately! im currently reading ‘normal people’ by sally rooney and her style is so distinct and unique which inspired me to venture out of the writing style of my previous works. I'm not sure why it never registered to me that I can write a fic in the third person LOL. Happy early vday!!!
The knock is softer than she expects.
It's ironic that she’s spending Valentine's day alone this year. She was supposed to be spending it with who she thought was the love of her life. As twilight begins to set in, it's unusual for someone to be knocking on the door.
She peeps out the window to assure nothing suspicious will happen to her once she opens the door. Her heart virtually skips a beat.
Is opening the door the best option? Surely it would be easy enough to ignore him, she could hide away in her room and pretend that nothing happened, though she's certain the thoughts will loom in the back of her head uninvited later. Hesitantly, her hand reaches for the door knob.
He’s standing further back then he usually does—actually, he would usually go up to kiss and hug her. She doesn’t like the way this feels. It resembles some sort of awful alternative reality that only happens in her worst nightmares. If this wasn’t real it would be easier, if they weren't real this would be easier. Her hand stays on the backside of the door, craving the familiar comfort behind her rather than the one that made her feel anxious standing in front of her.
He’s fidgeting with the corner of the white envelope he's holding, grazing the sides of it with his fingers. He always fidgets with his hands when he's nervous, she knows that well. He takes a deep breath, the cool evening air hits his lungs sharply which surprisingly relieves him. His entire body is running hot, she can tell by the slight warping of the paper caused by his sweaty palms and his lightly flushed cheeks.
“Hi” he says, cautiously, not wanting to respond unless she gives him a sign. He’s not sure what type of sign he’s looking for, even a crumb of the attention of what he usually gets from her would be enough.
“Hi”
She doesn't meet his gaze—mirroring, he doesn't meet hers. It’s as if the topic isn't real if they don’t face each other. They are processing things differently yet similarly. She can feel the familiar tightening in her chest that she hasn't felt in days, she was getting over it. Why did he have to show up—why now?
He doesn’t want to overstep, not again, but he needs to try, just one last time. He’s already tried picturing a reality of both outcomes. He tries telling himself that he’ll be okay with either scenario though, he’s still unconvinced. He can't imagine a future without her.
“This is for you” he sheepishly extends the white envelope out to her
“I mean—it’s up to you, you don't have to read it if…” he trails off, not wanting to finish that sentence. By rejecting his card she’d be essentially rejecting him, he holds his breath in silence. He only relaxes when she offers a response.
“What do you want, Seonghyeon?”
She says his name in a way she's never said it before. It lacked her usually soft cadence and playfulness when she addressed him—he always loved the way she said his name. Now, he feels a twinge of pain. It's so sharp and targeted, he can feel her hurt with her enunciation. The last thing he’d ever want it to be is the cause of her pain. Things don’t seem to be going his way lately.
When she saw that card extended out to her, she was immediately reminded of the gift basket she made for him. She’d been carefully curating for months, this valentine day was supposed to feel special. The basket is tucked away in a corner, she doesn’t remember which one, she doesn’t try to either.
The items were supposed to be returned by now, the second she broke up with, she promised herself she would get rid of everything that reminded her of him. But still, the photos of them together hang along her walls and his clothes are scattered all around. It shouldn't matter though, they’ve already officially broken up. For some reason, she can’t bring herself to going about the tasks she was so certain about completing before.
“I’d like you to read it.”
He doesn’t want to sound desperate in front of her, even though he’s burning with desperation. It’s his one wish, just a sign that maybe this could be restored.
Reluctantly, she outstretches her fingers to take the envelope from him. The paper trembles in his hands, it doesn’t stop when she takes it from him. She's been hiding her hands behind his field of view. He finds it comforting that she’s nervous too—it’s a sign that she doesn’t resent him. Any sign is a good sign.
She caught a quick glimpse of him when he wasn’t looking, she decided immediately that she’s not going to do that again. Just looking at him makes her want to cry, she hasn’t cried over him in days and she doesn’t want her streak to reset.
She’s moving in closer towards the entryway, creating a further space between him. Separated by the doorframe—outside, in. She wants to hide, not because she didn’t want to try with him but because she didn't know how to. He’s always been the one to initiate that sort of thing and even now, standing outside her door in the evening, he’s stumped.
There’s silence between them, all that can be heard is the distant sounds of cars driving and a wind that howls slowly. Usually, the silence between the two of them didn't matter. It built their sense of security in their relationship, they bonded over the silence. Presently, it just feels so wrong, it's painful.
The breeze is beginning to bother her, the cool air seems to heighten the intensity. Being inside would be better. She backs up slowly, about to close the door behind her. She's not expecting anything more from him, was there really anything left to say?
“I’m sorry”
She stops the door where it is, slightly ajar.
“What?” she knows she heard him right but she wants confirmation.
“I was being a huge dick to you, I’m sorry I didn’t give you space—I just felt so intense” he pleads, eyes darting everywhere but her gaze.
“It was intense for me too”
“I know, I truly didn't meant to hurt you like that” he pauses
His lips flatten into a thin line, he hesitates before he musters “I don’t think i can live without you”
“Well maybe you'll have to learn how to.” she's hoping he didn't notice the way her voice broke.
She wishes she had more to say but the words seemed to have dried up. Maybe an apology on her end would have been nice too, it wasn’t entirely his fault. The lack of a compromise in communication is what led to this—if only it was so simple.
“Goodnight Seonghyeon” is the last thing she says, closing the door behind her, physically separating the two of them. The tears begin to fall as she sits down on the floor. She's as unsure as she is sure about the reason as to why she’s crying. He can’t be that far off by now, if she opens the door now she would surely catch him. She could say the rest of what she wanted to say. But, her body stays frozen in place as she hugs her knees towards her chest.
He stands at the door for a moment after it was closed on him. He can feel his breath beginning to become more rapid and shaky, its clouds forming in the chilly air. He puts his fist against the door, standing like that for a moment until he ultimately decides that knocking isn't the best idea. He needs to respect her space, risking causing more conflict isn’t worth it. She already sensed distress anyway—oh how badly he wishes he could hold her and tell her that everything is going to be okay.
He’s been standing out front for too long now, he decides to leave peacefully—maybe one day the two of them can communicate again.
When the door finally opens and she looks out longingly, he’s already gone, like a distant, yet close memory. She didn’t know how she'd feel if he were still there but she understands profoundly the ache that she's feeling now that he’s gone.
The envelope remains in her hand, the warped edges serve as a reminder that he was there, he tried to show up but, ultimately it failed.
Hey there!! This was mainly inspired by that one interview where Martin said Seonghyeon is the type to confront arguments right away. I wanted to explore briefly how that dynamic could affect someone who does not respond well to direct confrontation oops i hope it was okay 🤗
. 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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˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ What winter olympic sport they’d be + the vibes they bring to the olympics (headcanons)
OT5! winterolympics!au
Permanent taglist // open! @yeppiz @faseanz
A/N: my next fic is going to take 8 billion years to complete so here are some easily digestible crumbs for my bbyboos 🤗
James - ski jumping ⛷️
Reason: the MOST james coded sport.
Known for: making silly faces during his jumps
Olympic scandal: accused of using eye contact as psychological warfare
Verdict: one eye open when you're sleeping, two eyes for james
Skijumper!jameswho acts equally silly in the land and air. Always finding one way or another to make the audience fall even more in love with him
Skijumper!james who ducks his face and smiles when the crowd cheers for him, he always brushes it off like it was easy, refusing to gloat even a little bit.
Skijumper!james who laughs at his own silly jump faces when they get replayed on his feed. He promptly changes his profile picture to whatever fan edits he thinks are the funniest
Skijumper!james who catches constant media attention. The broadcast cuts to him often for his fun persona and entertaining antics.
Skijumper!james who gets nervous at the top of the ramp but immediately relaxes when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically in the crowd below.
Skijumper!jameswho attempts to persuade you into giving ski jumping a try—he’d be a great teacher is his reasoning. It's never going to happen.
Keonho - half-pipe snowboarding 🏂
Reason: very boyish and cool
Known for: almost snowboarding into the crowd at the end of his runs
Olympic scandal: fake beef with another athlete for entertainment
Verdict: menace—ten years in the hole
Snowboarder!keonho who makes the largest snow sprays on purpose, which backfires on him since he can’t see where he is going anyway.
Snowboarder!keonho makes sure to run his hair through his fingers every time he takes off his helmet—-he knows his fanbase well.
Snowboarder!keonho who attempts the craziest combos and scares the audience half to death but lands them without fail. He claims he wasn't trying after he broke the world record…right.
Snowboarder!keonho who only eats snacks during the olympics until you tell him to actually fuel himself properly. His coach hasn't seen him eat that well, ever.
Snowboarder!keonho who tries to impress you with his gold medal, he’s shocked when you respond to him so nonchalantly (masking) and gains an interest in you.
Snowboarder!keonho who is grateful he’s done competing because you would have completely occupied his mind, not that it bothers him now.
Juhoon - figure skating ⛸️
Reason: he looks like he spins well
Known for: being a fidget spinner
Olympic scandal: always mogging on the ice
Verdict: face card=accepted
Figureskater!juhoon who always sets the trends for the seasonal attire. Teams constantly use elements of his preseason designs in their competitive ones. Brands scramble to get him to represent them in any way.
Figureskater!juhoon who practices his jumps everywhere, in the halls, lobbies, waiting rooms. He sometimes runs into an object, resulting in laughs and a minor bruise.
Figureskater!juhoon who forgets how to tie his skates when he sees you walk by, causing a mess of knots that takes the help of his teammates to undo.
Figureskater!juhoon who credits his gold medal winning performance to not wanting to disappoint you in the crowd. You don't know each other yet but he wanted you to remember him
Figureskater!juhoon who always gets turtle plushies thrown at him and the end of his performances. He takes note of the one you threw at him so he can keep it.
Figureskater!juhoon who later posts pictures of his gold medal, along with his new turtle companion, he hopes you’ll notice.
Martin - super g skiing 🎿
Reason: he's tall!
Known for: crashing into flags, almost crashing into flags
Olympic scandal: starting a snowball fight during official downtime
Verdict: what a g!
Skier!martin who is a chronic flirt on the slopes and in the olympic village. Reporters, athletes, volunteers, definitely you.
Skier!martin who always takes up the opportunity to customise his uniform in any way. He adds quick doodles and random stickers he gets to his helmet and skis.
Skier!martin who immediately takes his skis off and dramatically flails onto the snow after his runs, taking selfies with fans from the ground as he receives his time.
Skier!martin who fumbles his medal, causing it to fall down in one of his interviews. He turns red immediately but everyone just laughs it off. Thankfully no one noticed the dent in his olympic medal.
Skier!martin who searches for you everyday after you recommended the best chocolate muffins to him. He really wants to thank you (and invite you to the slopes with him)
Skier!martin who is a chronic tiktok user and vlogs his entire olympic experience to his millions of followers. Everyone seems to be asking about the status quo of his relationship status, he shrugs.
Seonghyeon - curling 🥌
Reason: gentlemens sport
Known for: always looking confused but podiums every time
Olympic scandal: chronic meme starter (accidently)
Verdict: stan twitter loves him—here’s your baddie chain seonghyeon
Curler!seonghyeon who always causes an influx of viewers whenever he’s playing. He’s slightly confused as to why he has an official fan club but he goes with it regardless.
Curler!seonghyeon who looks at his teammates as if he doesn't understand what's going on. He contorts his face in different ways to express his confusion, somehow always making eye contact with the cameras
Curler!seonghyeon who slips and almost falls on the ice multiple times during the olympics—immediately getting clipped for future reaction gifts.
Curler!seonghyeon who sometimes claps for the other team mindlessly. At least curling is a gentleman's sport.
Curler!seonghyeon who always gets lost in the olympic village and needed the IOC to print out a map for him so he could find his way from his room and the cafeteria.
Curler!seonghyeon who continues to wander around just to get the chance to catch another glimpse of you. He wishes he had the chance to talk to you earlier at his match but you seemingly disappeared.
Summary: Visibility always comes at a cost. When a carefully managed actress agrees to a fake relationship to shift a narrative that isn't hers to control, she comes to realize the most dangerous thing isn't the public watching, but how real it starts to feel.
Martin x reader - 10.5k wc (🐒)
Content: fem!moviestar!reader, idol!martin, hollywood AU (basically), fake dating, right person wrong time, happy ending tho (ur lucky this time), swearing, katseye featured, martin yearnssss my gawd does he yearn, implied height gap, martin falls fast and hard, reader is a seasoned actress but that's not too important, and oops! did I tease a new work in there somewhere…?
A/N: surprise! I hope the pink isn't too vibrant (if i change the header in the next few days—no I didn't!) this fic was supposed to go out *checks calendar* TWO WEEKS AGO??? I think I was getting perfection paralysis on this sigh but it's out now! ANYWAY I hope you enjoy it!! thank you @faseanz for being my emotional support diva and beta reader🤗
“Maybe we should let them think we're together?”
“What?”
He’s stopped you in the middle of the hallway of the hotel that both of you happen to be staying at. The halls are quiet since everyone has already decided to call it a night—you're trying to do the same since the day's schedule was exhausting. You're halfway to your hotel room door, keycard ready in hand when Martin Edwards stops you. His eyes don't meet yours and he fidgets with a keycard of his own.
“I’m just thinking” he pauses, regaining his composure “Like it obviously doesn't have to be real, lets just make it visible…there's just so much attention on you right now.” he continues
“I mean Martin, it will die down naturally” It's true. You know how to deal with controversy. You don't particularly like to get tangled up with the mess of the celebrity world. Keeping to yourself and not engaging in drama keeps scandals out and proves to work. You'd rather be known as “The people's unproblematic princess” even while it is a bit purest, it's safe.
Despite that, you can see the guilt in his eyes, his body language is more closed off than what you've usually seen from him. It’s not his fault, things like this happen—you try to tell him that.
“Martin, it's fine—I promise, I’ve dealt with stuff like this before, I can handle this. Don't feel bad you can't control how the public responds to these things”
“But we can try to shift the narrative so it could get better, for you. If they think you’re someone I’m actually with, they’ll stop treating you like collateral damage.” he reasons
Technically it's true, but you'd have to keep up that ruse for a while. It's skeptical to the public if you suddenly act like you're dating after a “scandal”. It’ll get labeled as PR or damage control, which is almost worse.
“We could fool them I guess, we’d have to keep up that act for a while though.” you think out loud
“I’m in L.A. until the end of the month, would that be long enough?”
“Yeah three weeks will suffice” even one might be fine but it would be weird if you stopped being seen together while he was still in the city.
“So like how do we start it should I—”
“Wait a second, I still have to think about this. I'm not really a fan of this whole PR relationship-esque sort of idea. I’ll get back to you tomorrow though.” you admit
“Okay yeah just let me know, I’m really sorry about it all.”
“You’re good” you reassure “Please go to sleep, don't dwell on this”
He seems like the type to get lost in his thoughts, maybe some thoughtful words will reassure him. You give him a smile before you leave.
You’ve only briefly encountered Martin a couple of times. The dating rumours that came from being in the same spaces were bound to happen and were relatively easy for you to dismiss. The reactions did blow out of proportion when he was photographed with a different girl though, you were now labeled as his ‘side piece’
Visibility always came at a cost. It was always easier to navigate these things in private since managing the press and keeping on top of public relations is an exhausting forefront of an acting career. That aspect is especially important now for your feature in a Christopher Nolan film—premiering in the next couple of weeks.
“You guys know Martin from Cortis, right?”
All eyes on you.
You didn't really consider mentioning it to anyone, you were pretty set on rejecting his offer after thinking about it all night. The topic seems to be worth bringing up in front of your friends who have closer ties to the music industry—you wonder what their thoughts could be.
“Woah shit. Guys don't stare at me like that, go back on your phones or something” you attempt to dismiss the topic, it proves futile. They all simultaneously say something in response.
“Dude come on” Lara says as she drags out the last word
“You can't just mention our label mate and expect us not to care” Megan exclaims
“What happened?” Yoonchae questions
“Okay fine” you start “But, it's not that interesting. He basically just asked if I wanted to fake date him—feels bad about the coup against me or whatever.”
“Oh my god are you kidding me” Yoonchae adds
“Thats like super interesting, have you never wondered what it's like to date a popstar?” Megan say, intrigued
“Well you guys are basically my girlfriends, I don't have to wonder.” you joke “Plus I don’t really see the benefit in a fake relationship.”
“Come on, you haven't even considered anyone since the whole ‘Cartergate’ situation” Lara states
“Ugh fuck that guy, you really didn’t deserve his shit. I can’t believe he used you for followers like that” Megan chimes in
I mean you were over it, you never really gave it much thought after it happened. Unfortunately it's common for girls in the industry to attract clout-chasing leeches. You try not to remember it, it's just a canon event of sorts. But, maybe it affected you more than you thought, it's true—you haven't dated in a while.
“This would be really good for you, you can dip into the aspect of dating someone with no strings attacked" Megan encourages
“Strings will definitely be attached. Two hot people can't be in close proximity like that without falling in love.”
“Lara, you read too many romance books. That only happens in fiction” Yoonchae adds
“You’ll see, I warned you” Lara says dramatically directing her words at you
“Guys I dont even know if im considering it yet”
“I mean.. it would be a nice thing to do. It can get sort of lonely in a foreign city, plus that was his sister in the picture. I can't believe people framed it like they were dating, netizens are so strange.” Yoonchae explains
Oh. You’d hate to be put in a position like that, where you aren't even allowed to explain the situation so it doesn't snowball.
“Well, let us know if you change your mind, our team can get you his contact info. You should loosen up a bit” Lara adds
“Don’t get your hopes up. I can see your smiles!” you laugh
The offer looms over your head, you try to dismiss it. This situation is not your responsibility but, you can't help but feel bad. You make sure to get the contact info from the girls before you leave, just in case.
He doesn’t answer your call the first time—probably busy. You’ve seen Cortis in the recording studio while scrolling through your feed, he seems to enjoy making music. You know very little about him but that is clear. You leave a voicemail, so he doesn't think his number got leaked or something.
‘Hey Martin, how are you? You can probably recognize me from my voice—anyway, can you call me back when you get this? I’d like to discuss some things.’
You talked to your team briefly earlier today and contrary to what you thought, they reasoned that it wouldn't be a bad idea. They assured you that the two of you don't need to do anything romantic, just being seen together multiple times in public would be enough— just as you suspected.
In a short term, this should be okay, ‘loosen you up a bit’ as a wise Yoonchae says. Being a part of the very public secret life of an idol builds character, probably. You do want to propose a condition though—Lara did have a point. You make a note to talk to him about it whenever he answers.
In the assumption that he agrees to further this plot, you realise that you don’t really know anything about him or Cortis—besides the news of Grammy nominations and stadium performances. You plan to watch some of their performances to get some familiarity. That's interrupted when you get a text.
‘Hey its Martin, I can facetime now’
Facetime? It's late at night and you've already gotten ready for bed. Casual loungewear is on as well as a sheet mask. It's different from your usual polished image, but you're sure he won't mind.
The phone rings twice before he answers. He seems to be in a studio, you can see other people in the background.
“I’ll fix the mixing in a second, can you check the bpm?”
“Sorry?” you're unsure if he's talking to you.
“Oh shit sorry i didnt realize i answered”
“It's fine” you try to make out what's going in the background “What are you working on?”
He seems to be shuffling around. You hear the sound of a door opening and closing.
“We're just cleaning up the album. It's almost done, just a couple more songs”
“That’s cool, I've always wanted to be in a studio like that” you admit
“I mean I could probably take you sometime—if you know, we're talking about what I think we're talking about”
“Right, I talked with my team and they said the concept you're proposing is fine but they’d like to manage it closely—I’m imagining yours also said something similar”
“Yeah, exactly that” he says gazing off to the side “I think they’ll be in contact soon.”
“Sounds good, I guess we’ll discuss that more later. I also have a condition.”
“Okay, what is it?” his eyes dart across the screen
“It's not bad I promise!” you reassure “Just no catching feelings”
In theory it sounds simple enough, if you're too busy focusing on the other aspects of your career there should be no issue. It's never going to be real anyway, It's all just acting.
“Yeah yeah that’s cool—im too busy for…that anyway” he says, diverting his gaze away
His last sentence sounded pretty sad. Dating is probably near impossible for an idol. Hopefully he’ll get the chance to be in an actual relationship with someone, he seems to be a nice guy.
“Okay perfect, well I don't want to keep you away from your work” you giggle nervously
“It's no problem, I'll talk to you then. Goodnight—you seem to go to bed early” seems like the face mask and pajamas were noticeable.
“Early? It's eleven thirty! You're actually insane. Go to bed”
“Never” he chuckles “Goodnight to you though”
“Goodnight Martin” you hang up the call
You watch a couple of their performances before you sleep. Ones from recently and from their debut and it's hard to tell the difference. Obviously they look older and their group harmony has improved but they already came on the stage with the same level of professionalism as the seniors. Pretty remarkable.
You’re woken up early by your team of stylists, there's an interview and quick photoshoot ELLE today.
You're handed your usual coffee order as you take a seat at the makeshift beauty station they have set up for you. You recognize the majority of the brands on the table, primarily from endorsements and what your friends recommend. To the side there's a rack of clothing all varying in different styles and designers—the pastel theme is evident.
Your makeup artist begins to prep your face with moisturizer as your hairstylist begins to pin your hair back into a bun. Seems like they are going with a casual girl-next-door vibe.
“We spoke with his team and you're meeting Martin Edwards after this shoot, at Urth caffe—the one downtown” your manager says nonchalantly
“You mean the busiest location?” it'll be insanely hectic around noon
“Well you sort of have to be spotted, the press loves to hang around there" your hairstylist chimes in
It's true, many celebrities and influencers like to go there for food. If you were a member of the paparazzi you'd be camping out there, it's a hotspot.
You sigh, “Fine, so what do we do? Do we just pretend to talk or what?”
“Well you can sit there for photos for an hour and be awkward.” she teases “It's a real date! Just very organized and public, act as you normally would” your manager explains
“I see, thank you for your very detailed explanation” sarcasm she laughs at you
“Hey it's not funny, I just want to have everything planned out” you add while laughing at yourself as well
“You don’t need a plan, just go with the flow. Do you think he’s cute?” your makeup artist asks
“Is that a rhetorical question, of course she does.” adds on your hairstylist
The room is silent, everyone's looking at you for an answer.
“Hey!” you exclaim “There are so many questions coming from you guys today” you're trying to hold back a smile
“Yes or no?”
“Do you know who the interviewer for the shoot is today?” you divert
The whole room exclaims—
“Oh she’s PR trained” you hairstylist laughs
“Learned from the best” your manager responds
The interview was pleasant. You've already worked with the photographer and interviewer on separate occasions. The team at ELLE also gifted you with a basket full of beauty projects and some flowers—you’ll have to pose with them later for an instagram post.
The conversations consisted mainly about your acting career and your upcoming projects. You're sitting on a plush white chair while the interviewer jots down your answers. She did manage to sneak in a targeted question though—
“Has anyone caught your eye recently, you’ve been spotted with a hotshot recently”
You immediately think it's about you and Martin, it makes the most sense since you were only photographed together recently. You debate on whether to answer cluelessly or to leave a bit up to the imagination.
“I mean, when you're in the same circles, you're bound to find yourselves together” you say vaguel—the dating narrative has to start at some point
“Would you care to elaborate on that?” She's leaning in now, excited.
“Maybe later” simply put
It's the best you can offer—and it works. You can see various employees on the set smiling behind the scenes, maybe they'll get a new celebrity couple on their cover. They will find out very soon actually. You're getting sort of anxious just thinking about the ploy as time slows down.
You're sitting in the back of a blacked out car heading towards the cafe, it's almost time.
The driver heads towards the back of the cafe. The idea is that you'll be spotted at a table together near the windows and then, you can leave together through the front entrance.
You're wearing sunglasses and a hat—he’ll probably do the same. It's not supposed to be so obvious, or people will assume it's a set up and the plan fails.
You remember the instructions—act natural. The closer you get to the table the more anxious you get. What are you supposed to be talking about on a date? The weather? Your names?
You approach the table and he's already there, browsing through the menu. His hair is covered with a beanie and he is wearing a pair of sunglasses—as you expected. Still, you can tell it's him. Other cafe goers are trying to hide their quick glances but, it's obvious—especially when they whisper amongst each other.
“So, this is it.” you say greeting him with a warm smile
“Yup” he smiles “I almost didn't expect you to show up, didn't you have a photoshoot earlier today?”
“Oh so now you know my schedule? Really playing the part” you tease
“Arent you supposed to do your research before playing a part? Maybe I'd be a better actor than you”
“Touché, I can’t even be mad at that.” you laugh “Have you considered acting before? I mean you're pretty good in your music videos.”
“No way you’ve been watching those” a flicker of surprise casts over his face
“Is it shocking? We both have to play a part—plus I meant it, you're good.”
“Actually?” he covers his mouth with his hand “That’s crazy ‘cause you’ve actually been my favourite actress since your debut”
“You’re lying”
“No, I'm being so serious. Hidden Alleyways was my shit during my predebut era”
That was your first tv show—your first lead role. You almost forgot about it, it was filmed ages ago. It was sort of niche though, you’re surprised he watched it.
“Oh my god, I was awful in that!” you exclaim
“Well the lines were a bit corny but you did the best with what you were given. It’s like my comfort show i love it”
You're in awe, you didn't expect the two of you to have a relation like that. Your face still reflects shock.
“Oh also, I'm excited for your next project. Interstellar is my favourite movie so I'm looking forward to what Christopher Nolan is putting out next.”
“You’re such a fanboy” you clasp your hands
“I’m a proud fanboy” he corrects “I would have mentioned you in interviews and stuff but people can shift narratives very quickly. As we have recently learned” he clenches his jaw momentarily
“Yeah” you giggle “This isn't too bad though, far from the worst case scenario.”
“Very true”
“I was thinking…”
You might as well ask, it'll help cement your “relationship” status.
He’s anticipating your question but he doesn't interrupt you, waiting patiently. Before you can continue, the waiter arrives
“Hello, what can I get the two of you today?” He’s trying to hide his expression but he recognizes the two of you.
Martin looks at you, signaling that you can order first
“I’ll just get a latte please”
“And can i get an iced matcha latte please” he adds
You smile, trying to suppress a laugh, failing miserably.
“Don’t call me performative—I already know you will” he says through laughter “Matcha is really good” he says convincingly.
“Hey, you said it, not me!”
The waiter leaves promptly after taking your orders. Later on, you catch him pointing in your direction while talking to a coworker, word is spreading.
“Martin, I meant to ask this before we place our orders, well I'll have to see if it's even possible. But, if I can arrange it, would you be interested in being my plus one at the movie premiere?”
“Yes!” he exclaims loudly, stares immediately follow in your direction
“Oh shit, sorry” he puts his fist up to his mouth, his face flushing.
He’s so excitable, it's cute you think. In a lot of ways you find him similar to how he is on camera—bright and kind. You feel like he’s holding back, but you shouldn't expect anything. You aren't dating for real after all.
“No it's fine, really. I'll talk to the organizers and see what they have to say” you start “I actually think you did us a favour, all eyes on us”
“Yeah oops” he laughs nervously
“So, when do you think you can get me in the studio?”
“You were serious about that?” his eyebrows raise
“Of course!” you act like you're offending “What? Do you think I'm only capable of acting—I could make you a killer producer tag”
He lightens up—as if it was possible to get any brighter than he was. “I’d actually love that, are you sure?”
“Does tomorrow evening work for you?” you offer as a response
“Uhm I'm pretty sure it will—we have some guests coming around noon so maybe six would work?”
“Sounds good, we could probably order food and drinks or something.’
The drinks arrive and the conversation continues. You find yourself leaning into the conversation instinctively, laughing at his jokes, asking insightful questions. You're more curious about him now—as a friend, no strings.
To exit, you were instructed to go through the front. The car you entered with is supposed to be stationed in front of the building, a supposedly easy trajectory.
As you prepare to walk out, you take a hold of his hand. He freezes for a moment; you make sure to give him a reassuring glance. You whisper some words to him, trying to make it look like you're saying something romantic. You notice the tips of his ears reddening.
It's way more hectic outside than you thought it would be. You know from work that a lot of paparazzi tend to hang out in their cars along the boulevard, so that whenever they get a tip they can easily move along. But holy, how the hell did they manage to coagulate in this area so quickly. You can hear the loud shutters of the camera immediately, you’ll have to move quickly.
It's definitely a scene straight out of the hollywood reporter—this moment will probably be on the hollywood reporter, ironically. The two of you scatter while trying to cover your faces from the cameras. Swiftly dodging nosy reporters and photographers invading your personal space.
Just as quick as it started, it ended. He lets you enter the car first, then he closes the door after he enters. It's not completely silent but it is quieter, you can see photographers trying to press their cameras up the window—doesn’t it get to a point?
“Ugh I fucking hate the press” you’re exasperated “Next time can we please just take some pictures or something”
“Yeah me too, I second that” he rubs the back of his neck
“Hey, but at least we did it!” the two of you smile as you initiate a high five, a small celebration.
You haven’t checked your phone all evening—its in your bag, probably. You dropped it right at the door the second you entered your hotel room. The cafe was fun, yes—but overly chaotic.
You decide to wind down by reading, this time it's ‘Emma’ by Jane Austen. While charming, her main character's avoidance is familiar. You think the concept of being a meddling matchmaker would be sort of fun, in theory.
You begin to hear buzzing that is getting progressively more frequent. You ignore it until you hear a ringtone. Peeved, you get up to check what's going on.
“Hello?”
“Hello, are you seeing this right now?” its Megan, definitely
“No, I’m reading—I’ll check later.” you say, almost uninterested
“No you should genuinely see this right now, it’s crazy” she reiterates
“Megan, I’m being lazy right now”
“Bro, just check your socials—that’s literally the laziest thing you could do”
“Fine, I’ll call you back later, bye”
The notifications are pretty insane. It's even gotten to the point where your personal contacts are asking you about it. You can barely open your apps since you are immediately flooded with comments and tags. That date really seemed to have served its purpose.
Everyone seems to want to know the status quo between the two of you. You debate making a statement but you decide it isn't worth the hassle, your team probably already has a plan. You’re wondering what Martin’s thoughts on the situation are, you’ll have to ask him about it tomorrow.
The front entrance of the building looks familiar. There's a sign that says ‘Westlake recording studios’ you’ve probably seen some of your musically-inclined friends post in front of it. It's a brown brick building, which blends in with the surrounding infrastructure. It's pretty isolated, ideal for artists to privately work on new music.
Someone from Martin’s team ushers you into the recording room he’s in. As you walk down the dimly lit halls you see records from famous artists you recognize: Michael Jackson, Rihanna, The Weeknd, Charli XCX. It's a star studded place for sure.
“We’re going into Production suite 1, just at this corner—I’m one of Cortis’ managers by the way”
Suite? Is he spending his entire life here?
“Oh okay—nice to meet you.I guess we're almost there" you try to respond, it comes out a bit shaky
“It's just the two of you today but it's strictly for PR. You are to take photos to post later on your social media. Don't overstep.”
Damn, straightforward.
His manager—did she even tell you her name? Gestures towards the door, encouraging you to head inside. I guess there is no reason for her to enter, still you're a bit shy to go in alone.
a/n: for visualisation of the studio https://www.westlakestudios.com/studios/production-suite-1
You enter the studio cautiously through its wooden door. Just like the rest of the building, the lighting was dim. It's a beautiful studio though, the older exterior of the building juxtaposes with the modern renovations of its interior.
You immediately notice the large mixing console that takes up half the room. There are so many buttons and features that you mentally put it aside because you’ll never understand half the controls.
Sitting at the console is Martin. He’s focused, wearing his headphones while he taps at his laptop and twists something on the console simultaneously. You pause for a moment, it really does seem to come naturally for him. You think you should alert him of your presence so he doesn't catch you staring.
“Hey Martin!” you tap him on the shoulder
He turns back suddenly, surprised.
“Oh woah, sorry I didn't notice you.” he puts his headphones around his neck
“No it's fine.” you reassure, smiling “What are you working on?”
He shrugs “Its nothing, just some demos”
“Can I listen to a few?” your curiosity peaking
“They’re not good yet” he laughs nervously
“You’re probably holding future platinum records on that MacBook” you joke, but you're also serious
“Nah, nah—thank you though” he blinks slowly
“Are you okay? You seem tired.”
“Yeah, I'm fine. I’ve been working here since last night, haven’t slept since.”
“Martin!” your voice raises slightly, you make sure to lower it “Have you at least eaten?”
He thinks for a second “I don't think—sometimes I forget”
You reach your hand out to his. He does seem stressed. You could tell by the way his speech was slower at the cafe and the bags forming under his eyes.
“Lets order some food them, I didnt eat dinner yet either”
The two of you decide to move to the floor while you eat since eating near the console is not ideal. You sit in silence for a moment while you organize yourselves.
“So, how's work been lately?” you start, breaking the ice
“Its…” he trails off
“Sometimes I feel the pressure to put out new work you know” he pardons himself “Sorry I don't mean to put that on you.” his lips press together
“No its fine” you say quickly “I get how the industry can be, it's nice to talk about it with others, you can talk to me about that sort of thing”
He looks at you hesitantly and exhales sharply, trying to gain some composure.
“I just feel like if I don't continue to pump out new charting songs consistently, I'll fall behind. I know we've been doing really well in our career but I feel like I get no rest as a tradeoff for the success—i can't even remember the last time I got more than five hours of sleep. The way so many deadlines are coming up: submit the concept of the music video, finish the tracks, send in choreo, photoshoots, promotional videos, fansigns—I don't know, it's just…too much. And the worst part is I have to act like I'm fine, I have to pretend that my back to back schedule isn't exhausting and that I'm so happy to be doing what I'm doing—which I am. I just feel like I'm getting sort of—”
“Burned out” that feeling is familiar
“Yeah…burned out” he mirrors
“I get that Martin” you're subconsciously reaching for his hand again don't overstep
“With the idol aspect of it all… that would be harder, your feelings are valid”
“Yeah, I wish I had more freedom. I guess that's where I envy you” he states
“Oh” You pause for a second, you don't know what to say. You never really considered how privileged your situation seems compared to him in that sense.
“I don't mean to make you feel—it's not your fault. I guess I've just always dreamed of like finding love and stuff and I can’t do that. It sucks” his tone is quieter now
“Shit, I'm sorry, I don't know what to say" you admit. You come up with something last minute—
“I mean the dating market is kind of shit here anyway—i’ve had exes that like…take advantage of me for the fame. No one seems to be here for love, only the glitz and the glam”
“Yeah that seems to be the case when you're an entertainer, I guess we just need to stay within that group. Also, I'm sorry that happened to you, people can just be so shitty I don't get it.”
“It's fine, I promise!” you insist, trying to lighten the mood. “Hey shouldn't we be taking some photos for the instagram stuff”
“Yeah we should” he says, already standing up
The two of you devise a plan—you’ll both post an ambiguous picture on your instagram stories, minutes apart. For his story, you’ll go stand behind the microphone in the recording booth attached to the studio you're in and pose with your face covered by the microphone.
“Okay so do I just stand here” you ask for clarification
“Yup, that's perfect—now pose”
You move around a bit, some serious poses, others silly. You have quite a bit of fun with it, the two of you laugh together.
For your story, you decide to take advantage of the corduroy couch in the studio. It will be mainly of you but there will be a sliver of his arm on the side of the photo, pretty standard.
“Hey Martin—do you have a hoodie I could borrow? I'm thinking it'll cement the ‘are they dating status more’.”
“Yeah sure ill go get one” he says as he walks to the corner of the room
“Oh right, I meant to ask, how do you feel about this entire situation? I mean large outlets are headlining our suspected dating and we’re a trending tag on twitter—does any of that sort of bother you or…”
“I don't mind” he says simply as he picks up a grey hoodie to hand over to you “Out of all the people I could have a dating “scandal” with, I guess you aren't too bad” he jokes
“That is one of the best compliments I've ever received” you say dramatically as you slid on the hoodie—it smells nice.
He goes to sit on the couch and gestures to you to sit down too. Once you adjust the hoodie, you go to sit down immediately greeted with an arm around your shoulder. You grab your phone from the pocket it was in.
You play around with a couple different poses, you try to contort your face in different ways that can represent an ‘oops, did you catch us?’ sort of vibe.
Scrolling through the photos you recently took, you and Martin decide which one looks the best, the two of you choose the same photo.
“I think it really captures the playful are they or are they not essence” you state, jokingly trying to sound sophisticated
“I agree, i think the general populous would adore it” he replicates your diction
You giggle at that, and so does he. Even when you look down towards your phone to post the story you can still feel his eyes on you. Is everything okay? The pressure is sort of getting to you—stumbling around with the buttons on your phone. When he looks away, you immediately relax. Is everything okay?
“It's posted!” you say, exhaling a sigh of relief
“Weren’t we supposed to get manager's approval before we posted the pictures?” Martin asks, half convinced half confused
“Wait, didn't you post yours right away?”
“Nope, I sent it to my manager first”
You immediately put your hand to your mouth, he does the same. The two of you stay like that for a few seconds then start laughing simultaneously.
“I mean its probably fine, plus its too late—im sure people are already reposting it because you have like a bazillion followers” he says while taking breaks to laugh between his words
“Oh my gosh” your mouth wide, in awe. “I can’t believe I forgot to do that.”
“It's fineee” he drags out, his hand lightly squeezing your shoulder—should his arm still be there?
“Hey” he gestures towards you “Didn’t you say you could make me a killer prod tag?”
Oh, he’s serious.
“Uhm…” you smile nervously “Did I say that? I'm not sure” acting confused
Next thing you know, he's convinced you to stand in the booth. You were just there to take some photos so it's familiar. There's a small window in front of the microphone where you can see Martin on the other side waving at you cheekily. You playfully roll your eyes at him as you take a seat in the director style chair behind you.
“What do I say?” you ask will you put the headphones over your ears
“Just anything related to…”
“What?” you didn't catch that last part—the soundproofing on the headphones was insane, you take them off temporarily.
“I said anything related to mars”
Oh right—wasnt that the name of the studio he had? You're sure you've seen that name somewhere. You gesture a thumbs to him and try to make up things related to mars. Your middle school science skills are being tested. What is Mars? Uhm hot?
You come up with a few different phrases, changing the wording up to give some variety. While the two of you go back and forth about intonation and speed you come up with five lines.
“Youve sucked me dry of ideas, someone save me, I'm being used for my talent!’ you say dramatically
He laughs “I think I might have to keep you there forever, I aspire”
You make a fake offended face, clutching your imaginary pearls in the process. You go towards the exit and go to sit at the control board that he finds himself at.
“How’s it going here?” you ask curious
“Good, I've got all the different samples logged in here” he gestures towards a catalogue on his computer “And then i’ll modify them with effects and beats later” he looks up towards you, smiling.
“Sounds cool” you take a seat in the chair beside him “You better send me fifty percent of the royalties if you use my voice in a song.”
“Well…we’ll see” he says while raising an eyebrow at you
“What does this do?” you point at a slider
“Thats the EQ, it basically just controls how the sound is.”
You continue to point at different aspects of the board, and he explains all of them flawlessly. You're retaining none of what he's saying but it's cool to watch someone talk about the things they are interested in. His voice is nice too, smooth and steady as he explains what the different buttons and sliders do.
“Yeah that's basically the entire mixing console, it's a lot of repetition but it's pretty easy once you get it” he explains
“Wow, that's super cool”
“Yeah? You sound unconvinced” he pries
“I am! It's just getting late, i’ll probably have to go to bed soon”
“You literally have the craziest sleep schedule I've ever heard of”
“Yeah says mister “I don't sleep when I’m in my flow state” you retaliate
He pauses. “No but, thank you for this. Like your time, makes me feel like I’m just a normal person my age for once”
He turns his chair to face you—you’re pretty close together now
“Oh yeah it's no problem really, I enjoyed this too” you get quieter and that last part, you can feel your heart beating faster at the proximity.
Don't overstep
It's getting quiet again, you try to focus your gaze at the booth window behind him. He leans in.
“Fuck” you muster under your breath, standing up. “Martin I'm sorry I just—
“No sorry that was my bad—i shouldn't have done that” regret immediately reflecting in his eyes
“It's fine I just like it, we barely know each other and I think it should stay casual.”
“Yeah, same” he's picking at his nail polish now, black specks falling to the ground
This next batch of silence is especially hard, you're trapped in your own thoughts but also wondering what he's thinking about.
“I think I'm going to head out now. I have that toddler bedtime schedule” you try to joke, ease the tension
You awkwardly exchange goodbyes as you make your way out of the building.
What. The. Hell.
The recent events of the night blur in your mind, did you do the right thing? I mean you didn't want to kiss him, right? You have to remind yourself that what you're doing is fake. It's fake and not real and you shouldn't want it to be real—you have a career to manage after all. Now is not the time to slip up. The thought of another heartbreak rocks in your mind, goodness you can't risk another violation of your trust.
The last couple of nights were ones of little rest. Unintentionally, the thoughts of the night of the studio kept recurring like a virus. You try to keep positive though, it'll all be fine. You have a photoshoot with Vogue today, your focus is important.
You decide to find your own way to HQ, you don't feel like being chaperoned by your entire team, you’ll see them shortly anyway.
You enter Vogue’s Headquarters—its familiar at this point. You plan on heading to the bathroom before you need to enter the meeting room to get the debriefing of your photoshoot. As you turn the corner, you run into someone.
“Oh sorry”
That’s a familiar voice, fuck.
“Hi” you start, stay on topic “It’s fine I was walking too fast”
“Yeah I've got a meeting to go to, I'll see you later though” Martin excuses himself, giving you a shy smile
You try to regain your composure.
“So..what was that?” another familiar voice, its comforting this time though.
You turn around “Oh hi Lara! I didn't expect to see you here. I’ve got to use the bathroom but it's nice to see you”
“No no don't change the subject—what happened between you two? I love you babes but that was the most awkward thing I've seen in a while”
“Its nothing—I swear” you say, trying to divert
She gives you the look.
You sigh “Okay fine it’s just that” you lean in closer and lower your voice “He tried to kiss me the other night”
“Oh my god!” she exclaims
“Shhh” you try to hush her, looking around to see if anyone noticed. If he noticed. You seem to be in the clear though, you can't see past the corner from your current angle. It should be fine, everyone's in meetings or at their desks this early in the morning
“Well hello? What happened next?”
“I scooted my chair back and left?” you say turn the other way, maybe you can escape if you start running now
“Are you okay in the head?” she sounds genuinely concerned “Why would you ever do that?”
“I don’t know, I just got kind of nervous and freaked out. I think I'm kind of scared of trusting someone like that—the intimacy of it all. My ex really fucked me up more than I thought he did.” you confess, defeated.
“Oh babe” she reaches out to you
“It just kind of sucks you know, i hate being in this position where im too scared to love” your vision becomes blurry
She hugs you tighter “I’m sorry, it'll take time but I'm sure you'll get there—you’re trying.
The tears begin to spill. You try to wipe them away quickly, remembering that you are going to be in front of an entire team of people. Hopefully your puffy eyes won't be too noticeable.
You enter the room, apologising for being late. The team coordinator—whom you recognize, assures you it's fine, they haven't started yet. Her voice is softer though—shit she can tell, everyone in the room can probably tell.
She gestures to you to sit in a middle chair at the conference table—nearbye a couple members of your team.
You sit down, adjusting the chair so it's closer to the table. Once you're settled you look across the table.
Literally why?
You make direct eye contact with him, he looks away swiftly.
“So, there's been a change of plans actually” the team coordinator clasps her hands, trying to make her tone more friendly “We’ve talked to both your teams and we've decided it would be best to have a joint photoshoot especially with all the buzz surrounding you two.”
Of course, you should have anticipated it. Your instagrams stories brought so much attention. If you really want to sell this, optimizing the press you have right now is the best idea. But now just feels like a bad time. The situation between the two of you is tricky.
“Any objections? Sorry we didn't alert you earlier, it was a quick decision but we want the two of you to be comfortable”
You appreciate the thought but, there really doesn't seem to be a choice. You give them the answer they're looking for—
"I'm fine with it”
“Me too” he responds curtly
“Perfect!” she exclaims as if this outcome wasn't what she expected to happen. “You will be getting styled right away and then we can start the shoot”
They did say it would be a quick meeting.
As everyone is scurrying to leave the room, you decide to stay back momentarily. It's not like it's a huge crazy announcement that you need time to process but it still feels relevant to take a second. You still don't know how you feel about Martin—should he just be an acquaintance or could there be something more.
“Are you okay?”
You zoned out—you thought you’d be the only one left in the room. Martin seemed to have stayed back too but he's standing up, ready to leave.
“Yeah, fine—just need a second"
He pauses for a moment. Seemingly debating what he wants to say. He looks at the door and then back at you, he decides on you.
“I should admit this to you” he starts, biting his lip
“Oh, uhm what is it?”
You're nervous, you don't really want to revisit the topic but, you wait. It could be about something else, interjecting now could make this more awkward.
“I overheard your conversation with Lara—near the bathrooms.” he fidgets with his hands
You freeze—you should’ve checked the corner
“I don't mean to push or anything and I shouldn't have violated your privacy by eavesdropping like that but” he looks to you to see if he's clear to continue speaking, you nod your head.
“I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I’m sorry that you’re going through that.”
“It's fine—it wasn't that serious, I was being awkward anyway” you reason “I guess I'm not too keen on you hearing me cry like that but I see where you're coming from and I appreciate your sentiments”
“It’s not your fault either. I should have judged the situation better. And for what it's worth, I don't mind if you cry, i’m not going to judge you” he adds
“Thanks, like genuinely” that was nice of him “Were probably going to get called over the intercom or whatever they have here if we don't get down to hair and makeup”
“Right. I forget we even had a photoshoot” he chuckles to himself, you smile in response.
The theme for the photoshoot seems to be domestic. The setting is a makeshift apartment set up. There's a living room with a couple windows, an old parisian style bathroom with a standing sink and a bed with a wired frame—the loungewear you're wearing now starts to make more sense.
The plan you were originally sent entailed a more avant-garde photoshoot but this is better, it's casual. The director gestures the two of you towards the different settings and gives you a quick debrief on what's going to happen: You’ll have a pillow fight on the bed, lounge in the living room, and take mirror shots in the bathroom.
Both of you are handed silk covered pillows and directions towards the bed. You look towards the director as if asking what you're supposed to be doing
“Just make it playful”
Vague instructions, but you manage. You take some action shots at different positions: the two of you on the bed, one person on the floor/one on the bed, laying down, jumping etc. The shots turned out pretty nice—you got to catch a glimpse when the crew was reviewing the photos.
They’re mostly action shots, but some are stationary. They look pretty real—as real as a planned photoshoot can look. The most eye-catching one is the one where you have a wide smile on your face as your pillow makes contact with Martin’s torso—he makes a shocked expression. It's a nice photo, you look happy and so does he.
The bathroom section was pretty straight forward. The photos are taken from the perspective of the mirror. It showcases your height gap and provides a unique perspective. You do a couple silly poses, some more candid ones. You're just about done when the director says—
“Okay now Martin, can you hug her from behind? Just wrap your hand around her waist.”
He looks at you taken aback “Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah it’s fine” you shrug it off
“You sure?”
“Yeah I mean it's nothing too crazy right, you good?” you ask him
“Yeah i’m fine, just making sure” he hesitantly wraps his arms around you
You can feel his hands around your waist as he moves in closer. You feel his shallow breaths running down your neck. Holy shit.
You look forward to trying to pose accordingly. You’re trying to relax but you can feel yourself fidgeting around, constantly shifting your head positioning and your arms. You've done things like this a million times before so why is it different now? This isn't real you repeat to yourself in your head, counting breaths trying to regulate yourself.
“Should we turn the fans on—he's getting pretty red.” the photographer (unsuccessfully) whispers to the casting director.
You turn around to see, she wasn't lying. You hope he isn't too uncomfortable, idols probably don't do pair photoshoots like this often. You attempt to loosen the tension.
“Martin!” you smile at him—he hides his face
“Do you find it hot in here?” You giggle at him, trying to phrase your joke like a serious question
“Uhm…yeah it is” he says, his eyes darting to the side
“It's fine then” you direct your attention at the team behind the cameras “I think the fans would be nice, it's getting pretty warm.”
You're glad no one notices how the proximity is affecting you. Thankfully, the fans proved to make some photos more dynamic, magazines are always looking for variety.
The director sits down with you to review the photos, after he finished discussing with Martin. They all look nice really, it's hard to pick a favourite. Still, you choose your top three and submit them to him.
“Hey, both of you picked the same photos—guess you guys are really in sync.” the director remarks
Oh, that's surprising. I mean they were nice photos but you didn't expect him to pick the same three that you picked out of the hundred of options. Great minds think alike.
“Yes, I guess we are!” you smile, it's good your fabrication of a relationship is even fooling people from major publications.
“Also Martins looking for you, he said something about leaving soon and front entrance.”
“Oh, okay” you say, making your way to the main entrance
“So…” he drags
“So…” you mimic
He laughs “I knew you would do that”
“Seems like we are developing some sort of telepathy. Did you know we chose the same top three pictures?” you start
“Really?” he uses his entire face to express his confusion “There were hundreds of photos there.”
“Thats what I was thinking! Anyway, as you were saying…”
“Oh yes, right. The album’s done!”
“Yay that's so great Martin, congratulations! You probably feel like a weight's been lifted off your shoulders” You mean it genuinely, he's been exhausting himself over this for months probably, he deserves to feel that relief.
“Yeah definitely, especially towards the end. I was really grinding trying to get that last song out—yeah so there's a listening party Friday night.”
“What about this listening party…”
“Bro come on” his reaction is funny, you think you should mess with him more “Well, I'm inviting you so you should definitely come”
“Wow, that means I will be booked and busy two Friday nights in a row.”
“You’re busy everyday?” his eyebrows furrow
“Of course I'll come Martin” you grab his hand playfully "You'll be repaying me anyway when you come to my premiere next friday!”
He smiles, relieved “That sounds good” he gets a text from his phone, he checks it “Well, I've got to go now but I'll see you then. Bye.”
You've been texting him more lately. They started off casually asking the occasional “you up’s” or “have you eaten today’s” but now they've sort of turned into a crazy concoction of memes, voice memos, and mini vlogs.
He without fail, has sent you a daily picture of his outfits—for feedback, for vibes, you're unsure. Still you can't help but smile at the silly poses he does in the mirror of the elevator or of the dance practice room.
What's been most enticing, is that he's been sending you little snippets of songs, presumably from the new album. He asks what your thoughts are even though he only sent three seconds worth of song. He’s trolling. You always pretend to respond enthusiastically though like you've heard the most majestical song ever created. You're sure the album will be good though, you've been looping their previous music for the past while now.
He tells you he misses you in a text message. You stare at the message for a moment then you draft up a response. The arrow to send the message stares back at you—should you send it, say what you want to say? The temptation of the backspace button hits and suddenly you're looking into your camera roll to send a meme. This isn't real.
The evening before the listening party, you get a text—from him of course. You can't help but notice the way you smile when you get a notification from him. You keep your phone around more often just to see if he's sent you a dumb reel or a chaotic voice note.
Do you want to play scrabble?
What???
Come to my hotel room, there's scrabble
You don't question it too much, I guess it's like a calm before the storm moment with the listening party happening the next day. You make sure to grab a half opened bag of chips you were gifted—can’t go to people's homes without a gift, you shrug.
“Hey why did you attach the word ‘evil’ to the ‘love’ i had” he says dramatically, clutching his chest as he rolls over on the ground.
“Easiest choice” you reason, reaching over him to grab the bag of chips
The two of you probably aren't playing properly but your freestyle method is definitely fun.
“What fruit or vegetable do you think I'd be?” he ask amongst your random conversation topics
“What is the conversation turning into?” you laugh “Uhm I think you'd be a potato—very versatile, universally liked”
“Oh, fair fair, I like that, thanks”
“My turn!” you say, you're curious to see what he he thinks about you
“You’d be a durian.” he doesn’t hesitate
“So you're saying I smell bad and you hate me” you say jokingly but also wondering why he would choose
“No no I mean it's just like you kind of have this restrictive exterior that keeps people out but on the inside you're really sweet—you should let people get closer to you, like romantically.”
“Oh, that makes more sense. You know your reasoning saved you there.”
He hit a nerve, you don't want to think about it— what was he getting at? He’s nice but you never thought this could be anything. For heaven's sake all you've been telling yourself is that this isn't real. But if it isn't real why do you feel so comfortable around him? Why do you feel like you could tell him anything, just why. You change the topic, stop thinking about fantasies.
“So how are you feeling about the listening party? Surely you have a long day ahead of you—you should rest.”
He looks disappointed—seemingly expecting more. You wish you could open up to him deeply but you can't, not now, not anytime in the foreseeable future.
“I mean this is my rest, doing mundane things with you. It's either that or work but I'd rather be doing this.”
He's trying to tell you something, you don't want to hear it—youre scared of what happens if you hear it. Run away, something tells you that you should run away.
“I meant that you should sleep” you say disguising your words as concern to escape. “Me too, it's getting late and I have some things to do on the day tomorrow—I mean thank you for this though, it was fun!”
“Hey, did I say something wrong?”
“No im just, tired you know” you grab your stuff to leave
“But you know—” he pauses abruptly, holding back, he glances to the side, avoiding your gaze “Nevermind yeah I think we both could use some rest” he concludes
“Sounds good, see you tomorrow night” you hate to put him in a position like that, where he has to bite his tongue but you appreciate that he didn't push.
3
The listening party is being held in the same building where the studio session was, except this time they have access to the full building. It's being hosted here since it’s one of the first studios Cortis worked at in L.A., its cutely symbolic you think
The lighting is still characteristically dim as expected for the entire building but it's decorated with all sorts of Cortis paraphernalia to promote their new album. Staff are handing out different trinkets and on theme beverages and food to get guests settled. You run into Yoonchae as you walk down the halls, you have yet to introduce yourself to anyone yet and the L.A. traffic has made you late—people are already flocking to the main studio.
“Have fun at the ‘afterparty’.” she winks at you as she walks by, presumably to refill the empty plate she's holding
“Yoonchae!” you’re always surprised with her audacity.
2
Thankfully, Martin saved you a seat near him, otherwise it would have been possible. Though this is the largest studio, it's completely filled up with different music executives and artists who probably worked on the tracks. You were looking at the credits on the back of the physical album you were handed and it was completely stacked. You're glad they made it big like that, especially after you got a taste of all the work they do.
The members go up to the front to quickly introduce the album and their motivations behind it—its more of a punk-pop album which they have dabbled in before but never pursued fully, the whole room is getting exciting.
As the clock counts down, the album begins to play. The songs have a different vibe but still respect the sound that Cortis has created for themselves. You even noticed your voice in one of the songs, you immediately glance at Martin, you didn't actually expect him to use it in a song. The two of you look at each other knowingly—it’s a nice touch.
For the final track Martin stands up to say some words about the track. The members have been taking turns announcing the tracks, talking about the ones that are truest to them. You're curious to see what he has to say
“So, this next track is dedicated to someone who has just recently come into my life, but has made a huge impact” he smiles while saying that
He tried to avoid looking in your direction but everyone already knows—all eyes on you. Everyone just laughs it off though, you get a couple of gasps but the moment remains lighthearted. What's concerning you the most is what did he write about you? You have gotten to know each other pretty well recently due to…unforeseen circumstances but there's no way.
The song is upbeat and psychedelic but there is not a single doubt in your mind—it's a love song. When you listen closely to the lyrics it seems to be more about a forbidden or unrequited love, and seems to be on theme to your situation. But, you feel his gaze on you, he looks away every once in a while but you can tell. You are more focused on the song though, it's really beautiful. There must be more context though—you'll have to ask about it more later, it can't solely be about you, you think.
They wrapped up the listening party, and it proved to be very successful. Everyone seems to be congratulating them on the tracks, it's hard to even talk to any of the members. You made sure to give them a quick “Congrats!” when you said them before they inevitably got stopped again. Hopefully they feel less worried about the actual album release on Monday.
You sort of linger around against the walls, you don't know anyone in the music industry and the people you recognized where already occupied but, you want to congratulate Martin in person. You could always call or text him yes, but he's been overworking himself for this album. The least you could do is recognize that in person.
You wander off into the production suite you were previously in, it's empty so it should be fine. You walk around the room reminiscing on certain parts: the booth where you joked around in, the couch where you took that silly instagram story, the mixing console where he almost…kissed you. The door opens, you turn around abruptly—
“Oh my goodness Martin, you scared the shit out of me” you take a step back to balance yourself
“I knew you’d be in here” he opens his arms out as if to say ‘told you so’
“Hey! Congratulations on the album release, I'm so proud of you” you go to hug him.
“Thanks so much! That means a lot, coming from you”
“Martin, what was that song about—the last track.”
Maybe you should have waited a little longer before you asked, let the moment sink in more. But it's all you can think about right now—besides the scent of his cologne.
He releases you from the hug slightly so your faces meet.
“Didnt I say?”
“I need to know for sure.”
He lets out a shaky breath.
“Its about you.”
1
You kiss him.
Your body moved on its own this time, as if instinctively. Your hands are cupping either side of his face, while standing on the balls of your feet. It feels like everything you’ve been holding back suddenly was released, it's freeing—you wish you could feel like that forever, completely weightless, as if nothing else mattered. Is this what they mean by being on cloud nine?
But just as quickly as it started, it ends—mutually. Afterwards, your eyes meet and you feel like you can see his truest emotions in his eyes, they look so honest and pure, as if he’s saying I mean this. You wonder what he can see in yours.
The contact is broken when you gaze off to the floor, but you still stay close—hands still cupping his face. The voice in your head comes back this isn't real, but you ignore it this time, this moment feels so deserved.
“Does anyone know where Martin went?” a voice interrupts from down the hall, capturing yours and his attention
“You should go..get to that” you hesitate while slowly rubbing your thumb across his cheek
He leans into your hand, shaking his head slightly side to side
“Just a second longer” he whispers, almost pleading
And so it is.
hey hey if you read to the end ily🤗 also cashapp me $50 its bhm
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♡? 𝐒𝐘𝐍. ── After you and keonho broke up, you guys made a promise; to never leave each other in pain
heavy? angst ◟ broken promises ◟ just as the song says. ‘I still love you I’m sorry,’ Both loved badly, arguments. ౨౿ He Promised He Wouldn’t Leave.
exes to?? 🪽. ── 𝐰c. 2.02K
𝐍iya’s note ─. This is for all my heavy angsts lovers
You didn’t think you’d still come.
Standing on the metal bleachers, knees pulled to your chest, sleeves covering your hands, you told yourself it was habit. Muscle memory, Not longing. But when Keonho ran onto the field, jersey clinging to him, hair damp with sweat even before the whistle blew, your chest tightened anyway. You clapped. You always clapped. Even after the breakup, Even after the silence, Even after he broke the one promise that mattered.
He played like the world depended on it. Fast, Sharp turns, Focused, Untouchable. When he scored, the crowd exploded, and you smiled before you could stop yourself. Not because you were proud. But because you knew him. You knew how hard he’d worked for moments like that. Your phone buzzed when the game ended.
[ 8:42 PM ]
Keonho: You came
You swallowed.
[ 8:42 PM ]
You: I said I always would
A pause.
Then:
[ 8:43 PM ]
Do you wanna…hang out? Just talk?
Your heart stuttered, then steadied into something heavier.
[ 8:44 PM ]
You: You can come over if you want
Another pause. Longer this time.
Okay.
Your room still smelled like lavender and old memories. Keonho sat on the edge of your bed, hands clasped together, shoulders tense. He looked matured somehow. Or maybe just more tired. You leaned against your desk, arms crossed, not mad, just bracing. “So,” you said quietly. “You played really well.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “I saw you in the stands.” You nodded. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“I never mind,” he said too quickly. Silence crept in, The kind that carried unfinished sentences and broken vows. “You said you wanted to talk,” you said eventually. Keonho exhaled, slow and shaky. “Yeah. I just…didn’t know how.” Your patience tightened.
“You were always bad at that,” you said. Not cruel. Just honest. He flinched anyway. “I didn’t want to mess things up more,” he said. That did it. You laughed, sharp and breathless. “More?” Keonho looked up. “Y/N—”
“You promised me,” you cut in, voice trembling now. “You promised you wouldn’t leave. You promised you wouldn’t do something stupid without telling me.”
“I know.”
“And you still did it.” He stood up, pacing your room like it was too small to hold what he was about to say. “I got an offer,” he said. “A soccer program. In LA.”
The words landed wrong, Too calm. Too final. Your chest hollowed out. “When?” you asked. “Sometime soon.”
“How soon?” Your voice cracked. Keonho stopped pacing. “After this semester.” You stared at him. “You were going to leave,” you whispered. “And you weren’t going to tell me.”
“I was,” he said quickly. “I just—didn’t know how. Especially after we broke up.”
“That’s not an excuse,” you snapped. “That’s cowardice.” He winced. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You already did.” The room felt smaller now. Thicker. “You know what hurts the most?” you continued, tears finally rising. “It’s not that you’re leaving. It’s that you decided I didn’t deserve to know.”
“I thought you hated me,” he said quietly. You shook your head, frustrated. “I was angry. There’s a difference.” Keonho ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think you’d still be here. Still coming to my games.”
“I told you I’d always support you,” you said. “That was my promise.” He looked at you then, really looked. Eyes soft. Broken. Guilty. “I didn’t think you’d keep it,” he admitted. That hurt more than anything else. “So you just…replaced me?” you asked. “With a future that didn’t include me?”
“No,” he said immediately. “I just didn’t know how to choose both.” Your tears spilled freely now. “You should’ve let me choose with you.”
Silence.
Keonho stepped closer, stopping just short of touching you. “I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you,” he said, voice shaking. “I left because I was scared I’d stay and ruin everything.” You laughed bitterly. “You still did.”mHe nodded. “I know.” The air between you pulsed with everything unsaid. “Are you going?” you asked softly.
“Yes.”
That single word shattered what was left of your patience. “Then why are you here?” you demanded. “Why sit in my room and reopen wounds you don’t plan on healing?”
“Because I needed you to know,” he said. “And because…I needed to see you one more time.” Your heart ached. “That’s selfish,” you whispered.
“I know.” You turned away, wiping your face. “I don’t know how to forgive you yet.”
“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “I just didn’t want to disappear without saying goodbye.” That word.
Goodbye.
You faced him again. “You broke your promise.”
“I did,” he admitted. “And I’ll regret it forever.” Keonho hesitated, then spoke one last truth. “I loved you enough to stay,” he said. “But I wasn’t brave enough to trust that you’d stay too.” Your heart cracked open. “You never gave me the chance,” you whispered. He nodded, tears finally slipping free. “I know.” Then He stepped closer, voice shaking. “I loved you, y/n.”
“Loved,” you repeated. “Past tense.”
“I still do.”
“Then why does it feel like I’m the only one paying for it?” Keonho swallowed hard. “Because I didn’t know how to love you and chase my dream at the same time.”
2 minutes later,
Keonho didn’t move right away.
He just stood there, a few feet away from you, like his body hadn’t caught up with the decision his mouth already made. His eyes stayed on your face, too long to be accidental. Like he was trying to memorize you. Like if he looked hard enough, he might find a reason to stay. You felt it, That weight, That silence that screamed louder than all the yelling before it.
Say something, you wanted to scream. Don’t look at me like that.
His jaw tightened. His eyes softened in a way that made your chest ache.
“I—” he started, then stopped. He swallowed, shook his head once, like whatever he almost said was too dangerous to let out.
Slowly, he reached for his jacket draped over your chair. The sound of the fabric sliding through his hands felt final. Cruel. He slipped it on, movements stiff, like each second hurt worse than the last. Then he looked at you again. Longer this time.
broken.
Like he wanted to walk back to you. Like he hated himself for not doing it. Your breath hitched, but you didn’t stop him. Keonho nodded once to himself more than to you, then turned and walked to the door.
His hand lingered on the handle, Just for a second.
Then he left.
And the quiet he left behind hurt more than any fight ever could. No hug, No kiss. Just the sound of your door closing softly behind him.
And the echo of a promise that broke louder than any goodbye.