— ₊˚ෆ in which you invite bf!martin home after school after not hanging out for a long time and realizing how much you actually missed eachother.
—. . 𖥧 𖥧 . based off saturn and stars by brizb!! check her out yall!!
— non-idol!basketball player!martin x cheerleader captain!reader. established relationship
— cortis mentioned, h2h ian and stella, illit wonhee and minju, newjeans hyein and dani, kiiikiii jiyu and haeum!!
—₊˚ෆ CW and warnings : martin misses you so bad he can’t think straight, fluff , some swearing , skinship, kissing, cuddling, tiny bit of angst if you squint, established relationship, yearning, minor accident cute cute!!
A/N : first fic!! hope you guys like it lol lol.. ngl i wish this would happen to me but w keon is that parasocial.. idc anyway!!!!
wc: 4.5k maybe (?)
The day went by like usual, it wasn’t sunny to the point where you saw the rays of the sun through your window, but it wasn’t cloudy with a chance of cats and dogs either. And you had practically nothing stopping you from having a good day.
Lunch came by quickly, turns out you had to announce lunch practice to your team members in the group chat since they hate to listen, but they came around quickly enough. You got your lunch, bid goodbye to your best friends and had to hear a dramatic sigh from them saying they’d miss you a lot. They were coming to watch practice the next day so it was okay either way.
You saw your boyfriend, Martin, around, his eyes lighting up when he saw you.
You guys hadn’t had the chance to hangout or even talk lately, he had been busy with basketball (let’s pretend he can play), and you had been even busier with cheer.
You had the pep rally coming up, and a couple of competitions, the amount of prep exhilarating yet somehow so fun.
Martin came up to you with a short hug, his eyes crinkling up at the sides, and his teeth basically spilling out his cheeks from how hard he was smiling. You both had a game today, an away one specifically, so you would get to sit next to each other on the bus, now, that’s IF keonho doesn’t steal your spot.
“Hey Marty” you giggled, “what gives, you’re so happy today?”
“I just missed you that’s all” he huffed, still smiling. “Sit next to me on the bus today, yeah?” He asked, brows softening while looking down at you.
“You got it boss” you smiled, bumping his nose with your thumb “I wish I could continue this conversation but I have lunch practice coming up, Gotta go, the girls might blow up the gym if i’m not in there” You sighed, playing with his hair.
“It’s fine baby, I’m so proud of you, the girls are doing great now since the beginning of the season, I’m sure you’ll do great at the pep rally and your competitions” He smiled “well, if you really have to go, i’ll see you on the bus, okay? you’ll kill it at practice and the game, don’t even worry “
He kissed your cheek and walked away to his friends, them teasing him about the way he softened up when he saw you.
That was the first time he kissed you in weeks.
Well, not that you’ve kissed before, not even on the lip, martin usually liked to keep it simple and went for your cheek or forehead, but you still got flustered every time.
No lie, Martin’s beautiful. The way that makes your breath hitch if you held eye contact for too long. His pretty, messy hair and his deep yet soft and sweet voice when he talked to you or about you was enough to send you into a frenzy. You felt like you were going crazy every time he called you pretty or any of the pet names he made up for you along the way.
Your cheeks went beet-red, and you let out a shaky sigh before entering the gymnasium, knowing you’d get made fun of the second you entered that room.
.
“Okay everyone!” you exclaimed “we’re just gonna go over some choreography really quick, and we’ll go over half-time cheers, that okay with everyone?”
everyone nodded, and got into formation.
Your coach had a class during lunch period for you, since the school was lowkey a 3-12 grade school, and she taught elementary music, so you guys were responsible for keeping up with practice.
You finished going over choreography, and lowkey had time to finish the whole thing, so now all that was to be done before the pep rally and the competitions was to just go over it during practice, which was amazing since you guys had about 3 weeks before each.
You started to teach the girls the new cheer, you and your co-captain, Ian, standing side by side, one facing the back so they could see the cheer mirrored and one facing the front so they could see the arm movements.
“So this cheer is called “You gotta shoot” you started “the hands at the beginning might be a little confusing, but you girls got it! This is a sideline cheer and since we’re lowkey the only team cheering today, they’re allowing us to do halftime at that school too!”
You went through the cheer twice, just so that the girls could get a feel through it and see if it was as confusing, and it was a little bit , but they got it down pretty quickly.
By the end of lunch, the cheer was pretty much done, all you had to do was gather the girls before the game, which you had about forty five minutes, more than enough time, and to finish the cheer and it would be ready by game time.
Before you guys all left, you gathered everyone in a little circle and started talking.
“Okay girls this is gonna sound unc as fuck but I’m so proud of you guys, you guys have gone irreversible things for this team and I can’t wait to see you all shine in today’s game and at the pep rally and our competitions, you’re going to do so amazing and i’m so glad i’m on the same team as you talented amazing girls”
“Never the fuck mind I was actually gonna make fun of you but this is so cute i’ll let it pass this time” Ian said, laughing loudly.
“Ian!” you exclaimed “ I was tryna be inspirational but I guess you guys don’t care”
“yeah yeah whatever, in return for that we’ll help distract keonho so you can actually sit next to your little martin today” your senior and friend, wonhee, said.
“You know what..” you fake thought “ thats even better than a group hug”
“how about both?” Hyein asked.
“Both it is then” you giggled, getting up and pulling the girls for a hug, it wasn’t a big team, around 8 girls, but you loved all of them with your whole heart, and you wished nothing for them but success.
You stayed like that till the first bell rang, signaling everyone to pack up and go to their classes.
“I’ll see you later girls!” you said “Don’t forget we’re going to go over that cheer before the game okay?”
They all exclaimed “yes!” and you locked hands with Ian and went to your class.
.
You and Ian were in the same friend group, and also in the same sport, so it was inevitable that she’s your bff, you got to class, your favorite and her absolute nightmare, physics.
Class went by fine, your teacher had taught a new formula that was a bit confusing at first, but after it sitting in your mind you understood it better.
You had one more class before the day ended, and that class was English, lucky for you, every single one of your friends had it together.
You and Ian, including Stella , jiyu, haeum, and Danielle had crowded the already full room, taking a table in the back for yourselves, it was already your designated table.
You never really did anything in English anyway, the teacher had been your teacher for about two years now, since sophomore year as now it was junior year, and she had kind of just been transferred to junior year english instead of staying in sophomore year english, and she was lowkey done with the grade level, giving up since the rest day of school. She had just made up random assignments and gave people high grades so she could just chill in her classroom.
You and your friends had a good giggle, reminiscing of the one time you had tripped from the school stairs and made martin trip too.
You laughed, trying to explain yourself, but it was no use, they were already on the ground, laughing their hearts out.
“Oh my god” Stella said , still laughing and sniffling “ How’s things with Martin either way”
“We’re doing good, he actually kissed me on the cheek today” you blushed
“Why are you blushing over that I thought you guys had kissed on the mouth already” Haeum said, genuinely confused.
“See the thing is, our little lovebirds like to take it slow, so they still haven’t had their first kisses yet!” Stella said.
“Ohhh” haeum nodded “well you guys are cute without having a first kiss so it shouldn’t matter to much”
The topics moved on from one to another, the speed being something you couldn’t keep up with, your friends knew that already, though you hadn’t told them about it, they just let you zone out in peace.
You were thinking about the topic, you really did want to kiss martin.
It wasn’t really only because they brought it up, but you’ve always wanted to. From the beginning of the relationship you had to hold yourself back from kissing him then and there when he said something that made you rethink what amount of patience you could really take.
You had been patient, and at that point you just wanted a kiss more than anything else, you just wanted to be as close to him as possible.
It felt a little selfish, really, but you wanted to be alone with him for so long. with noone there to stop you from being as touchy as you could.
Martins love language was words of affirmation, he loved complimenting you or even being complimented and being told sweet things that helped him calm down in the moment.
Yours was physical touch, you loved touching Martin as much as you could, a hand on his hand, his hand on your thigh, the little moment where you would touch the back of his neck during a hug, all of that drove you crazy.
You craved it like you were thirsty and left in a desert.
He was your oasis.
You didn’t mean it in a bad way, but you just wanted to feel his warmth, you wanted his weight on you even if it was an ounce.
You wanted to carve a space in your heart and fill him in it, like your little hideout only meant for you two.
Class ended and you were still daydreaming, the bell pulling you out of your trance.
You and Ian bid goodbye to everyone, and ran to the gymnasium, the girls not being there yet, since their classes were far away.
You both went over the cheer alone for a little, and then the girls all came pooling in the gym, along with your coach.
“Hello girls!” Coach Smith said, she looked happy that you learned the cheer quickly. “So I heard we learned the new cheer, Go change and We’ll do a little run through of our cheers for today, but captain Y/N will pick them out through the game, so be ready for whichever it is”
“Yes coach” everyone said, looking happy that she wasn’t going to be too strict today.
Everyone went to the locker room, the scent of perfume, freshly washed uniforms and shared lipgloss flooded the vicinity. Ian had helped you change into your uniform, the skirts were so ridiculously tight—at least on you.
It would barely go up your thighs without help, while everyone had them slip on smooth and easy.
“Ugh this is so annoying” You muttered
“What? Being thick is annoying?” Ian chuckled
“In this circumstance yes, terribly annoying”
“Well, we’re all done and you look like eye candy, so come on, let me do your bow” she smiled.
“Thanks Ian, love you” you sighed, slipping your shoes on and following her to the mirrors.
She did a simple half up situation, but it looked really nice if you would say so yourself.
You just refreshed your lip combo and left the locker room with the girls.
.
You went out and went over the cheers with coach, and turns out that the girls had been practicing even during class since they got it right the first time.
You were all done and ready with about five minutes before you had to board the bus, and Wonhee had come up with a masterplan to get Keonho and Juhoon away from Martin before the bus.
The girls just began asking random ass questions to the boys, helping Martin squeeze out and come stand by your side.
He looked down at you, his eyes sparkling.
Oh.
Oh, the things you would do for a telescope right now.
To have Saturn and stars in your hand—just be able to capture the glimmer in his eyes.
“Hi,baby” he whispered,leaning down to your ear, his breath tickling your jaw.
The blood rushed from your body to your neck and ears, you were blushing so hard someone could make tomato paste with your color.
“Hi martin” you exhaled, feeling nervous for some reason, the thoughts you had during 6th period catching up to you all of a sudden.
“Why are you shy” he laughed “It’s just me”
“Exactly” you murmured “It’s just you.”
He smiled, letting you have your moment, and grabbed your bag and walked towards the bus with you, sitting at the very back, letting you have the window seat.
He was leaning, his head being on level with yours now, so he could lean his head on your shoulder.
He stayed like that for a while, keonho had been grunting and huffing and puffing for the past fifteen minutes about not being able to sit with Martin, while you simply stuck your tongue out at him.
“He loves me more” you muttered
“That’s the problem” keonho said “he loves you more and he has a girlfriend while i’m still single as shit”
“Don’t start, keonho” Martin said, “tons of girls ask but you reject them.”
He shut his mouth at that one, while you and Martin had shared an airpod, your (lowkey depressing) playlist shuffling through both your ears.
Martin had (not very) suddenly placed his hand on your thigh. Making your breath hitch.
Your heart started speeding up and beating like a drum against your ribs, thundering all of your emotions, and goosebumps spreading on your legs.
It wasn’t like he did it to make you react, you just couldn’t help but be overwhelmed and conscious of him all the time.
You just felt like there was a hole, one that only he could fill, one in your heart.
He wasn’t doing anything wrong—he was just existing around you and you would feel an urge to just rip your heart open and give it to him so he could feel you in his fingertips.
You didn’t want to have to hold your breath. You wanted to breathe him in instead.
You hadn’t really been okay with anything lately, maybe your body was acting up or your period was coming again but you just wanted to cry at anything.
There was no reason to, you had promised you wouldn’t, but seeing how much you actually missed martin, it was definitely a reason to cry.
You let out a shaky breath that you didn’t even know you were holding and tried to look out the window before you actually just woke him up with a kiss right then and there.
You were simply losing it.
Sleeping had been hard recently. Whenever it’s too quiet and your ear was actually on the pillow, you could hear your heart thundering against your chest, the sound deep in your ribs. It sounded like footsteps on gravel, and maybe that meant that your heart was moving forward, entering a new life. But to you—it sounds utterly disgusting. You count stand that it was so quiet in the house that you could hear proof that nobody was there.
Your parents were never home—both of them being workaholics never helped, especially when you grew up.
It felt like you were playing hide and seek wherever you went.
It felt like anyone who looked in your eyes was gonna tear them apart.
But that wasn’t the case with Martin.
Martin looked into your eyes with such softness—such tenderness that it was like he could see through your organs and into your soul.
It felt so intimate in such a beautiful way.
You were always grateful for him offering you to stay over at his house, especially since his parents and his sister actually really loved you (maybe more than him) but you never admitted it out loud.
.
The bus ride was over, short as it felt, Martin just slept on your shoulder the whole time, while you just tried not to lose your cool.
And now it was game time.
Martin hugged you goodbye and went to his teammates, they started stretching and what not, and so you gathered the girls.
You all as well, started stretching and trying to get loud so your cheers could actually be heard.
You were a loud group of girls, so in no time was the whole gymnasium filled with even your quietest voices.
And then, the game began.
Martin was a starter, and he only got subbed out when he was tired, but he was in for the most part.
He was good at defending, but shooting and dunking were his specialties, and he was especially good with three pointers.(glazin da eff out this boi he don’t even know how to play basketball)
And then, it was half-time.
Most of the boys went to the locker room to cool off, but Martin and his friends stayed behind to support you and the girls.
You did your dances, then the cheers, and went finished up about two minutes before halftime was over.
You were exhausted, that dance was actually something else and every single time it hit harder than the last.
You all went into line, and then into the locker room, fixed yourself up as fast as you could, and went on the sideline instead of the bleachers this time.
The players weren’t being that aggressive the first half of the game, but it was definitely competitive—something the boys absolutely loved.
If they were being too aggressive, the refs usually had you and your girls stand on different sides, but since that wasn’t the case, everyone was in the right formation.
The thing was—coach had put you in the very center all alone when it was supposed to be pairs , specifically you and Ian.
You were in the middle of “you gotta shoot” when it happened.
The game was obviously starting to get more heated, players slamming the walls from the other side—but that was the other side.. right?
Until it became your side. Where you were specifically standing. Dead in the middle.
Martin was guarding this particularly large guy, he wasn’t taller than Martin, but he was getting there, but he had the horizontal capacity of a bull.
Martin wasn’t weak, everyone knew that.
But when faced with a bull almost his size and basically two times his weight, it was hard not to fall back, clutching his only way out of an injury—the wall.
Exactly where you were standing.
You were in the middle of a cheer, you couldn’t give less of a shit, nor could the girls, about what was happening in the game.
And what kind of dumbass actually pushes people thinking they weren’t going to get the refs?
Martin realized last minute, crashing into you, both of you falling on the floor, his breath hard and heavy, hitching when he felt you underneath him.
The gymnasium went silent.
Actual crickets.
Until it erupted in yells.
His eyes and your eyes were wide in surprise, you not expecting to get crashed into mid cheer, and him not expecting anything to be there but the solid wall.
“Martin” your breath hitched
He took the hint, got off before he was going to do anything stupid.
and the game continued like nothing happened.
The bus ride back home was loud.
Terribly loud.
The loud that made the ringing in your ears since the incident with Martin hurt more than what people describe as a lobotomy.
You went harder throughout the whole game just so you wouldn’t think of anything stupid.
Gosh how warm his hands felt in the coldness of that gym.
It pissed you off.
He’s your boyfriend for fucks sake.
You should feel like you can do anything with him. But you felt stupid. You couldn’t. You felt like it was something sacred.
It was just a simple kiss on the lips and you were terrified to do it—yet you craved it every single day.
You wanted him to kiss you so hard he could figure you from the inside out, more than he already did.
Martin drives.
Usually it's Ian that takes you back home after games.
But Martin asked if he could come over on the bus.
You agreed, your parents weren’t home and they told you that if he wanted to come over he could anytime.
So he drove you home.
The car ride wasn’t exactly silent.
Well, not in terms of tension.
You tried to muffle the hitches of your breath from just being in the same vicinity as him. But it just wasn’t working.
You wanted to say everything. But you didn’t wanna bore him out.
You felt your heart beat against your chest, a rhythm that was frantic, unable to control itself.
You felt like ripping your hair out at the sheer memory.
Gosh—what the actual fuck was wrong with you?
Anyone else would say it wasn’t that serious—that you were getting so worked up about something so utterly stupid.
It was ridiculous.
This was your boyfriend.
Of a year.
And you still felt so nervous.
You felt so safe in his arms but it just made you feel so scared.
Not of him.
Not of what would happen.
But of yourself.
You trusted him with all your heart.
You knew he wasn’t gonna do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.
He wasn’t that kind of person. The same boy to look at you so tenderly and lovingly, the same boy who makes you sleep on the bed while he’s on the floor instead of just sharing because he thinks you might not be okay with it, the same boy who knows you from the inside out. The same boy who had never let an argument go unresolved within an hour of it happening.
The same boy who’s never kissed you on the mouth.
You didn’t care how—but that would change today.
The tension in the car was absolutely unbearable, jaws clenched so tightly they could break through the outer shell of a wall nut, and broken, shaky breaths enveloping the car.
He got there pretty quick. Your house wasn’t far from the school anyway, but he got there quicker than you thought he would.
You knew him—he loves it when the day’s done.
You unlocked the door with the lock you had in your backpack, hands trembling in the midst of the night. It was about 10pm right now and there was no school tomorrow. Your breath hitched and your heart hammered beneath your ribs, you felt like you were going to pass out right then and there.
He had come over plenty of times before. You just didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this time specifically.
The door finally clicked open, and he stepped in, to his shoes off, and put both your backpacks down.
You just stood there, your back facing him. You didn’t know what you’d do if you turned around. Maybe you’d start crying. Maybe you’d just latch onto him and start being pathetic. Maybe you’d just act like an absolute dummy. So you didn’t take the chance.
Until you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist. Another breath in the crook of your neck, and a specific someone basically kneeling on the floor just to hug you.
You let out a shaky breath. The last of your composure felt like it was cracking to peices.
“Gosh” Martin breathed, voice cracking.
“Gosh baby, I missed you so much” he said, voice softer than usual.
Why was his voice so soft?
You turned around, facing him, checking if he was okay.
Martin was crying.
Panic settled in. Instant. Deep. Sharp inside of you.
“Baby?” you asked “Martin what’s wrong why are you crying?”
You were worried sick.
He held you even tighter.
“Nothing, it's just.. I feel like such a coward” He muttered “I miss you so bad—you don’t get it. It feels like I'm going crazy every day that I can’t get a hold of you”
He inhaled a sharp breath in, and exhaled it out just as sharply.
“It’s just not fucking enough. I feel so selfish. I want to see you every second of the day. I want to be alone with you. I want you all to myself—Gosh you’re literally all I think about and it’s driving me insane. Seeing you for a little before lunch isn’t enough, sleeping on your shoulder on the bus isn’t fucking enough. Texting you good morning and goodnight isn’t enough— nothing's enough anymore. It feels like every day I’m getting greedier for you and I don’t know how you’d react to it so I just push it aside till I can’t. I’m at my breaking point. Baby—gosh baby I want you so bad “ He sobbed, his head in the crook of your neck. “I feel like an asshole for not seeing you, it feels like i’m pushing you away when i want all i want is you closer. I want you to feel my heartbeat on yours. I want you to see through my soul. I don’t even know if it’ll fix how I feel but—gosh. Gosh I want to kiss you so bad till you break me apart with a touch—“
You didn’t even let him finish his sentence.
You pushed his head up from the crook of your neck, your own eyes filled to the brim with tears.
It was so stupid but it meant so much.
It was a kiss and you were both going crazy over it.
You leaned in closer, till there was an inch between your lips.
His breath loomed against your lips, mingling with yours.
You hesitated, looking at him then at his lips, heart hammering in your throat.
You felt the adrenaline pumping everywhere.
Until he couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his lips onto yours.
You let out a soft gasp against him, quickly melting into the kiss.
His hands went to your waist, yours playing with the waves on his nape, one hand sliding up to meet with his follicles.
He let out a sound between a hum and a whimper between your lips, pouring out every unsaid word against your lips. He put his hsnd on the bsck of your hair, bringing the kiss even deeper till your bodies literally collided into eachother, no space between your hearts, feeling his pulse hammer inside of yours.
You went for aslong as you could till the oxygen in your lungs felt like it was running out, body aching. He pulled away a fraction of an inch before giving you another kiss.
This one was slower, softer, more tender. This one didn’t pour out frustration, it just poured out every missed “I love you”. It was so painfully sweet that you actually didn’t know what you’d do without him.
You would wait this long again just to get a taste of him this sweet—this beautiful.
He pulled back, his head nesting in the crook of your neck, placing a soft kiss there.
“Let’s go to sleep.. mkay baby?” you asked
He nodded against you, rocking you back and forth slowly.
“I’m gonna go take my makeup off and shower, you have your clothes in my closet, yeah?” you asked “i’ll be quick, I promise”
“Okay” he muttered, giving you one last squeeze before letting go.
You quickly showered and finished doing everything you needed to, freeing the shower for him while you dryed your hair.
He came back, and you helped him dry his hair. His head leaning into your palm.
It was about 11pm now.
You went to your bed, forcing him to climb in instead of keeping up the restraining that he’s been doing. The same restraint that kept both of you feeling like you were dying for the last year.
His head was on your chest, your fingers playing with his hair while his were on the hem of your t-shirt, hugging you tightly like you were the only person that mattered in the while world at the moment.
You let a deep breath out, and kissed the top of his head, seeing his shiny eyes look up at you from where he was.
“What was that for?” he murmured, nestling deeper into you.
“Nothing” you said “Just.. Felt like it I geuss.”
“Then do it everytime you feel like it” he said “Don’t hold back, I won’t either”
you nodded
“You did really good today, Tiny” you said “I’m proud of you”
“I love you” he muttered “So much”
And you kept whispering sweet nothings in his ear till you both fell asleep to the beat of your hearts, gentle, content, loving.
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— ₊˚ෆ in which you invite bf!martin home after school after not hanging out for a long time and realizing how much you actually missed eachother.
—. . 𖥧 𖥧 . based off saturn and stars by brizb!! check her out yall!!
— non-idol!basketball player!martin x cheerleader captain!reader. established relationship
— cortis mentioned, h2h ian and stella, illit wonhee and minju, newjeans hyein and dani, kiiikiii jiyu and haeum!!
—₊˚ෆ CW and warnings : martin misses you so bad he can’t think straight, fluff , some swearing , skinship, kissing, cuddling, tiny bit of angst if you squint, established relationship, yearning, minor accident cute cute!!
A/N : first fic!! hope you guys like it lol lol.. ngl i wish this would happen to me but w keon is that parasocial.. idc anyway!!!!
wc: 4.5k maybe (?)
The day went by like usual, it wasn’t sunny to the point where you saw the rays of the sun through your window, but it wasn’t cloudy with a chance of cats and dogs either. And you had practically nothing stopping you from having a good day.
Lunch came by quickly, turns out you had to announce lunch practice to your team members in the group chat since they hate to listen, but they came around quickly enough. You got your lunch, bid goodbye to your best friends and had to hear a dramatic sigh from them saying they’d miss you a lot. They were coming to watch practice the next day so it was okay either way.
You saw your boyfriend, Martin, around, his eyes lighting up when he saw you.
You guys hadn’t had the chance to hangout or even talk lately, he had been busy with basketball (let’s pretend he can play), and you had been even busier with cheer.
You had the pep rally coming up, and a couple of competitions, the amount of prep exhilarating yet somehow so fun.
Martin came up to you with a short hug, his eyes crinkling up at the sides, and his teeth basically spilling out his cheeks from how hard he was smiling. You both had a game today, an away one specifically, so you would get to sit next to each other on the bus, now, that’s IF keonho doesn’t steal your spot.
“Hey Marty” you giggled, “what gives, you’re so happy today?”
“I just missed you that’s all” he huffed, still smiling. “Sit next to me on the bus today, yeah?” He asked, brows softening while looking down at you.
“You got it boss” you smiled, bumping his nose with your thumb “I wish I could continue this conversation but I have lunch practice coming up, Gotta go, the girls might blow up the gym if i’m not in there” You sighed, playing with his hair.
“It’s fine baby, I’m so proud of you, the girls are doing great now since the beginning of the season, I’m sure you’ll do great at the pep rally and your competitions” He smiled “well, if you really have to go, i’ll see you on the bus, okay? you’ll kill it at practice and the game, don’t even worry “
He kissed your cheek and walked away to his friends, them teasing him about the way he softened up when he saw you.
That was the first time he kissed you in weeks.
Well, not that you’ve kissed before, not even on the lip, martin usually liked to keep it simple and went for your cheek or forehead, but you still got flustered every time.
No lie, Martin’s beautiful. The way that makes your breath hitch if you held eye contact for too long. His pretty, messy hair and his deep yet soft and sweet voice when he talked to you or about you was enough to send you into a frenzy. You felt like you were going crazy every time he called you pretty or any of the pet names he made up for you along the way.
Your cheeks went beet-red, and you let out a shaky sigh before entering the gymnasium, knowing you’d get made fun of the second you entered that room.
.
“Okay everyone!” you exclaimed “we’re just gonna go over some choreography really quick, and we’ll go over half-time cheers, that okay with everyone?”
everyone nodded, and got into formation.
Your coach had a class during lunch period for you, since the school was lowkey a 3-12 grade school, and she taught elementary music, so you guys were responsible for keeping up with practice.
You finished going over choreography, and lowkey had time to finish the whole thing, so now all that was to be done before the pep rally and the competitions was to just go over it during practice, which was amazing since you guys had about 3 weeks before each.
You started to teach the girls the new cheer, you and your co-captain, Ian, standing side by side, one facing the back so they could see the cheer mirrored and one facing the front so they could see the arm movements.
“So this cheer is called “You gotta shoot” you started “the hands at the beginning might be a little confusing, but you girls got it! This is a sideline cheer and since we’re lowkey the only team cheering today, they’re allowing us to do halftime at that school too!”
You went through the cheer twice, just so that the girls could get a feel through it and see if it was as confusing, and it was a little bit , but they got it down pretty quickly.
By the end of lunch, the cheer was pretty much done, all you had to do was gather the girls before the game, which you had about forty five minutes, more than enough time, and to finish the cheer and it would be ready by game time.
Before you guys all left, you gathered everyone in a little circle and started talking.
“Okay girls this is gonna sound unc as fuck but I’m so proud of you guys, you guys have gone irreversible things for this team and I can’t wait to see you all shine in today’s game and at the pep rally and our competitions, you’re going to do so amazing and i’m so glad i’m on the same team as you talented amazing girls”
“Never the fuck mind I was actually gonna make fun of you but this is so cute i’ll let it pass this time” Ian said, laughing loudly.
“Ian!” you exclaimed “ I was tryna be inspirational but I guess you guys don’t care”
“yeah yeah whatever, in return for that we’ll help distract keonho so you can actually sit next to your little martin today” your senior and friend, wonhee, said.
“You know what..” you fake thought “ thats even better than a group hug”
“how about both?” Hyein asked.
“Both it is then” you giggled, getting up and pulling the girls for a hug, it wasn’t a big team, around 8 girls, but you loved all of them with your whole heart, and you wished nothing for them but success.
You stayed like that till the first bell rang, signaling everyone to pack up and go to their classes.
“I’ll see you later girls!” you said “Don’t forget we’re going to go over that cheer before the game okay?”
They all exclaimed “yes!” and you locked hands with Ian and went to your class.
.
You and Ian were in the same friend group, and also in the same sport, so it was inevitable that she’s your bff, you got to class, your favorite and her absolute nightmare, physics.
Class went by fine, your teacher had taught a new formula that was a bit confusing at first, but after it sitting in your mind you understood it better.
You had one more class before the day ended, and that class was English, lucky for you, every single one of your friends had it together.
You and Ian, including Stella , jiyu, haeum, and Danielle had crowded the already full room, taking a table in the back for yourselves, it was already your designated table.
You never really did anything in English anyway, the teacher had been your teacher for about two years now, since sophomore year as now it was junior year, and she had kind of just been transferred to junior year english instead of staying in sophomore year english, and she was lowkey done with the grade level, giving up since the rest day of school. She had just made up random assignments and gave people high grades so she could just chill in her classroom.
You and your friends had a good giggle, reminiscing of the one time you had tripped from the school stairs and made martin trip too.
You laughed, trying to explain yourself, but it was no use, they were already on the ground, laughing their hearts out.
“Oh my god” Stella said , still laughing and sniffling “ How’s things with Martin either way”
“We’re doing good, he actually kissed me on the cheek today” you blushed
“Why are you blushing over that I thought you guys had kissed on the mouth already” Haeum said, genuinely confused.
“See the thing is, our little lovebirds like to take it slow, so they still haven’t had their first kisses yet!” Stella said.
“Ohhh” haeum nodded “well you guys are cute without having a first kiss so it shouldn’t matter to much”
The topics moved on from one to another, the speed being something you couldn’t keep up with, your friends knew that already, though you hadn’t told them about it, they just let you zone out in peace.
You were thinking about the topic, you really did want to kiss martin.
It wasn’t really only because they brought it up, but you’ve always wanted to. From the beginning of the relationship you had to hold yourself back from kissing him then and there when he said something that made you rethink what amount of patience you could really take.
You had been patient, and at that point you just wanted a kiss more than anything else, you just wanted to be as close to him as possible.
It felt a little selfish, really, but you wanted to be alone with him for so long. with noone there to stop you from being as touchy as you could.
Martins love language was words of affirmation, he loved complimenting you or even being complimented and being told sweet things that helped him calm down in the moment.
Yours was physical touch, you loved touching Martin as much as you could, a hand on his hand, his hand on your thigh, the little moment where you would touch the back of his neck during a hug, all of that drove you crazy.
You craved it like you were thirsty and left in a desert.
He was your oasis.
You didn’t mean it in a bad way, but you just wanted to feel his warmth, you wanted his weight on you even if it was an ounce.
You wanted to carve a space in your heart and fill him in it, like your little hideout only meant for you two.
Class ended and you were still daydreaming, the bell pulling you out of your trance.
You and Ian bid goodbye to everyone, and ran to the gymnasium, the girls not being there yet, since their classes were far away.
You both went over the cheer alone for a little, and then the girls all came pooling in the gym, along with your coach.
“Hello girls!” Coach Smith said, she looked happy that you learned the cheer quickly. “So I heard we learned the new cheer, Go change and We’ll do a little run through of our cheers for today, but captain Y/N will pick them out through the game, so be ready for whichever it is”
“Yes coach” everyone said, looking happy that she wasn’t going to be too strict today.
Everyone went to the locker room, the scent of perfume, freshly washed uniforms and shared lipgloss flooded the vicinity. Ian had helped you change into your uniform, the skirts were so ridiculously tight—at least on you.
It would barely go up your thighs without help, while everyone had them slip on smooth and easy.
“Ugh this is so annoying” You muttered
“What? Being thick is annoying?” Ian chuckled
“In this circumstance yes, terribly annoying”
“Well, we’re all done and you look like eye candy, so come on, let me do your bow” she smiled.
“Thanks Ian, love you” you sighed, slipping your shoes on and following her to the mirrors.
She did a simple half up situation, but it looked really nice if you would say so yourself.
You just refreshed your lip combo and left the locker room with the girls.
.
You went out and went over the cheers with coach, and turns out that the girls had been practicing even during class since they got it right the first time.
You were all done and ready with about five minutes before you had to board the bus, and Wonhee had come up with a masterplan to get Keonho and Juhoon away from Martin before the bus.
The girls just began asking random ass questions to the boys, helping Martin squeeze out and come stand by your side.
He looked down at you, his eyes sparkling.
Oh.
Oh, the things you would do for a telescope right now.
To have Saturn and stars in your hand—just be able to capture the glimmer in his eyes.
“Hi,baby” he whispered,leaning down to your ear, his breath tickling your jaw.
The blood rushed from your body to your neck and ears, you were blushing so hard someone could make tomato paste with your color.
“Hi martin” you exhaled, feeling nervous for some reason, the thoughts you had during 6th period catching up to you all of a sudden.
“Why are you shy” he laughed “It’s just me”
“Exactly” you murmured “It’s just you.”
He smiled, letting you have your moment, and grabbed your bag and walked towards the bus with you, sitting at the very back, letting you have the window seat.
He was leaning, his head being on level with yours now, so he could lean his head on your shoulder.
He stayed like that for a while, keonho had been grunting and huffing and puffing for the past fifteen minutes about not being able to sit with Martin, while you simply stuck your tongue out at him.
“He loves me more” you muttered
“That’s the problem” keonho said “he loves you more and he has a girlfriend while i’m still single as shit”
“Don’t start, keonho” Martin said, “tons of girls ask but you reject them.”
He shut his mouth at that one, while you and Martin had shared an airpod, your (lowkey depressing) playlist shuffling through both your ears.
Martin had (not very) suddenly placed his hand on your thigh. Making your breath hitch.
Your heart started speeding up and beating like a drum against your ribs, thundering all of your emotions, and goosebumps spreading on your legs.
It wasn’t like he did it to make you react, you just couldn’t help but be overwhelmed and conscious of him all the time.
You just felt like there was a hole, one that only he could fill, one in your heart.
He wasn’t doing anything wrong—he was just existing around you and you would feel an urge to just rip your heart open and give it to him so he could feel you in his fingertips.
You didn’t want to have to hold your breath. You wanted to breathe him in instead.
You hadn’t really been okay with anything lately, maybe your body was acting up or your period was coming again but you just wanted to cry at anything.
There was no reason to, you had promised you wouldn’t, but seeing how much you actually missed martin, it was definitely a reason to cry.
You let out a shaky breath that you didn’t even know you were holding and tried to look out the window before you actually just woke him up with a kiss right then and there.
You were simply losing it.
Sleeping had been hard recently. Whenever it’s too quiet and your ear was actually on the pillow, you could hear your heart thundering against your chest, the sound deep in your ribs. It sounded like footsteps on gravel, and maybe that meant that your heart was moving forward, entering a new life. But to you—it sounds utterly disgusting. You count stand that it was so quiet in the house that you could hear proof that nobody was there.
Your parents were never home—both of them being workaholics never helped, especially when you grew up.
It felt like you were playing hide and seek wherever you went.
It felt like anyone who looked in your eyes was gonna tear them apart.
But that wasn’t the case with Martin.
Martin looked into your eyes with such softness—such tenderness that it was like he could see through your organs and into your soul.
It felt so intimate in such a beautiful way.
You were always grateful for him offering you to stay over at his house, especially since his parents and his sister actually really loved you (maybe more than him) but you never admitted it out loud.
.
The bus ride was over, short as it felt, Martin just slept on your shoulder the whole time, while you just tried not to lose your cool.
And now it was game time.
Martin hugged you goodbye and went to his teammates, they started stretching and what not, and so you gathered the girls.
You all as well, started stretching and trying to get loud so your cheers could actually be heard.
You were a loud group of girls, so in no time was the whole gymnasium filled with even your quietest voices.
And then, the game began.
Martin was a starter, and he only got subbed out when he was tired, but he was in for the most part.
He was good at defending, but shooting and dunking were his specialties, and he was especially good with three pointers.(glazin da eff out this boi he don’t even know how to play basketball)
And then, it was half-time.
Most of the boys went to the locker room to cool off, but Martin and his friends stayed behind to support you and the girls.
You did your dances, then the cheers, and went finished up about two minutes before halftime was over.
You were exhausted, that dance was actually something else and every single time it hit harder than the last.
You all went into line, and then into the locker room, fixed yourself up as fast as you could, and went on the sideline instead of the bleachers this time.
The players weren’t being that aggressive the first half of the game, but it was definitely competitive—something the boys absolutely loved.
If they were being too aggressive, the refs usually had you and your girls stand on different sides, but since that wasn’t the case, everyone was in the right formation.
The thing was—coach had put you in the very center all alone when it was supposed to be pairs , specifically you and Ian.
You were in the middle of “you gotta shoot” when it happened.
The game was obviously starting to get more heated, players slamming the walls from the other side—but that was the other side.. right?
Until it became your side. Where you were specifically standing. Dead in the middle.
Martin was guarding this particularly large guy, he wasn’t taller than Martin, but he was getting there, but he had the horizontal capacity of a bull.
Martin wasn’t weak, everyone knew that.
But when faced with a bull almost his size and basically two times his weight, it was hard not to fall back, clutching his only way out of an injury—the wall.
Exactly where you were standing.
You were in the middle of a cheer, you couldn’t give less of a shit, nor could the girls, about what was happening in the game.
And what kind of dumbass actually pushes people thinking they weren’t going to get the refs?
Martin realized last minute, crashing into you, both of you falling on the floor, his breath hard and heavy, hitching when he felt you underneath him.
The gymnasium went silent.
Actual crickets.
Until it erupted in yells.
His eyes and your eyes were wide in surprise, you not expecting to get crashed into mid cheer, and him not expecting anything to be there but the solid wall.
“Martin” your breath hitched
He took the hint, got off before he was going to do anything stupid.
and the game continued like nothing happened.
The bus ride back home was loud.
Terribly loud.
The loud that made the ringing in your ears since the incident with Martin hurt more than what people describe as a lobotomy.
You went harder throughout the whole game just so you wouldn’t think of anything stupid.
Gosh how warm his hands felt in the coldness of that gym.
It pissed you off.
He’s your boyfriend for fucks sake.
You should feel like you can do anything with him. But you felt stupid. You couldn’t. You felt like it was something sacred.
It was just a simple kiss on the lips and you were terrified to do it—yet you craved it every single day.
You wanted him to kiss you so hard he could figure you from the inside out, more than he already did.
Martin drives.
Usually it's Ian that takes you back home after games.
But Martin asked if he could come over on the bus.
You agreed, your parents weren’t home and they told you that if he wanted to come over he could anytime.
So he drove you home.
The car ride wasn’t exactly silent.
Well, not in terms of tension.
You tried to muffle the hitches of your breath from just being in the same vicinity as him. But it just wasn’t working.
You wanted to say everything. But you didn’t wanna bore him out.
You felt your heart beat against your chest, a rhythm that was frantic, unable to control itself.
You felt like ripping your hair out at the sheer memory.
Gosh—what the actual fuck was wrong with you?
Anyone else would say it wasn’t that serious—that you were getting so worked up about something so utterly stupid.
It was ridiculous.
This was your boyfriend.
Of a year.
And you still felt so nervous.
You felt so safe in his arms but it just made you feel so scared.
Not of him.
Not of what would happen.
But of yourself.
You trusted him with all your heart.
You knew he wasn’t gonna do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.
He wasn’t that kind of person. The same boy to look at you so tenderly and lovingly, the same boy who makes you sleep on the bed while he’s on the floor instead of just sharing because he thinks you might not be okay with it, the same boy who knows you from the inside out. The same boy who had never let an argument go unresolved within an hour of it happening.
The same boy who’s never kissed you on the mouth.
You didn’t care how—but that would change today.
The tension in the car was absolutely unbearable, jaws clenched so tightly they could break through the outer shell of a wall nut, and broken, shaky breaths enveloping the car.
He got there pretty quick. Your house wasn’t far from the school anyway, but he got there quicker than you thought he would.
You knew him—he loves it when the day’s done.
You unlocked the door with the lock you had in your backpack, hands trembling in the midst of the night. It was about 10pm right now and there was no school tomorrow. Your breath hitched and your heart hammered beneath your ribs, you felt like you were going to pass out right then and there.
He had come over plenty of times before. You just didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this time specifically.
The door finally clicked open, and he stepped in, to his shoes off, and put both your backpacks down.
You just stood there, your back facing him. You didn’t know what you’d do if you turned around. Maybe you’d start crying. Maybe you’d just latch onto him and start being pathetic. Maybe you’d just act like an absolute dummy. So you didn’t take the chance.
Until you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist. Another breath in the crook of your neck, and a specific someone basically kneeling on the floor just to hug you.
You let out a shaky breath. The last of your composure felt like it was cracking to peices.
“Gosh” Martin breathed, voice cracking.
“Gosh baby, I missed you so much” he said, voice softer than usual.
Why was his voice so soft?
You turned around, facing him, checking if he was okay.
Martin was crying.
Panic settled in. Instant. Deep. Sharp inside of you.
“Baby?” you asked “Martin what’s wrong why are you crying?”
You were worried sick.
He held you even tighter.
“Nothing, it's just.. I feel like such a coward” He muttered “I miss you so bad—you don’t get it. It feels like I'm going crazy every day that I can’t get a hold of you”
He inhaled a sharp breath in, and exhaled it out just as sharply.
“It’s just not fucking enough. I feel so selfish. I want to see you every second of the day. I want to be alone with you. I want you all to myself—Gosh you’re literally all I think about and it’s driving me insane. Seeing you for a little before lunch isn’t enough, sleeping on your shoulder on the bus isn’t fucking enough. Texting you good morning and goodnight isn’t enough— nothing's enough anymore. It feels like every day I’m getting greedier for you and I don’t know how you’d react to it so I just push it aside till I can’t. I’m at my breaking point. Baby—gosh baby I want you so bad “ He sobbed, his head in the crook of your neck. “I feel like an asshole for not seeing you, it feels like i’m pushing you away when i want all i want is you closer. I want you to feel my heartbeat on yours. I want you to see through my soul. I don’t even know if it’ll fix how I feel but—gosh. Gosh I want to kiss you so bad till you break me apart with a touch—“
You didn’t even let him finish his sentence.
You pushed his head up from the crook of your neck, your own eyes filled to the brim with tears.
It was so stupid but it meant so much.
It was a kiss and you were both going crazy over it.
You leaned in closer, till there was an inch between your lips.
His breath loomed against your lips, mingling with yours.
You hesitated, looking at him then at his lips, heart hammering in your throat.
You felt the adrenaline pumping everywhere.
Until he couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his lips onto yours.
You let out a soft gasp against him, quickly melting into the kiss.
His hands went to your waist, yours playing with the waves on his nape, one hand sliding up to meet with his follicles.
He let out a sound between a hum and a whimper between your lips, pouring out every unsaid word against your lips. He put his hsnd on the bsck of your hair, bringing the kiss even deeper till your bodies literally collided into eachother, no space between your hearts, feeling his pulse hammer inside of yours.
You went for aslong as you could till the oxygen in your lungs felt like it was running out, body aching. He pulled away a fraction of an inch before giving you another kiss.
This one was slower, softer, more tender. This one didn’t pour out frustration, it just poured out every missed “I love you”. It was so painfully sweet that you actually didn’t know what you’d do without him.
You would wait this long again just to get a taste of him this sweet—this beautiful.
He pulled back, his head nesting in the crook of your neck, placing a soft kiss there.
“Let’s go to sleep.. mkay baby?” you asked
He nodded against you, rocking you back and forth slowly.
“I’m gonna go take my makeup off and shower, you have your clothes in my closet, yeah?” you asked “i’ll be quick, I promise”
“Okay” he muttered, giving you one last squeeze before letting go.
You quickly showered and finished doing everything you needed to, freeing the shower for him while you dryed your hair.
He came back, and you helped him dry his hair. His head leaning into your palm.
It was about 11pm now.
You went to your bed, forcing him to climb in instead of keeping up the restraining that he’s been doing. The same restraint that kept both of you feeling like you were dying for the last year.
His head was on your chest, your fingers playing with his hair while his were on the hem of your t-shirt, hugging you tightly like you were the only person that mattered in the while world at the moment.
You let a deep breath out, and kissed the top of his head, seeing his shiny eyes look up at you from where he was.
“What was that for?” he murmured, nestling deeper into you.
“Nothing” you said “Just.. Felt like it I geuss.”
“Then do it everytime you feel like it” he said “Don’t hold back, I won’t either”
you nodded
“You did really good today, Tiny” you said “I’m proud of you”
“I love you” he muttered “So much”
And you kept whispering sweet nothings in his ear till you both fell asleep to the beat of your hearts, gentle, content, loving.
SYNOPSIS: martin can’t leave alone, especially when your music requests feel like his own. 90s club dj au!martin x f!reader
CONTENT WARNINGS: underage drinking i think?? depends on your location but martin is 18 and so is f!reader
WC: 1.5k
NOW PLAYING: can’t leave alone, pino ft. avenoir and maz b (3:33 min)
martin’s playing usher when he first notices you near the front, making your way to where keonho’s taking song requests.
he’s got one hand on the cross fader and another on the sync button, ready to remix bone thugs-n-harmony, but the way your skirt catches the light causes him to miss the beat drop.
‘shit, sorry y’all, got distracted!’ he yells through the microphone, loud enough that it drowns out thuggish ruggish bone.
laughter resonates through the underground club, loose and carefree, the way it should be on a friday night. this set was a gig his manager, james, forced him to do, and though martin was reluctant at first, seeing your face light up when TLC comes on is worth all the money he’s getting tonight.
you’re dancing near his booth, two girls who he assumes are your friends next to you. one of them tilts your head back, pouring a shot down your throat, and he’s captivated by the way you laugh when a drop slips down your skin. keonho, ever the meddler, sneaks up behind him just as britney starts blasting through the speakers.
‘who you staring at, hyung?’
‘what? m’not staring, idiot.’
‘so you’re… looking intensely?’
‘yeah shut up, keonho. don’t you have requests to write?’
‘the last few are from her.’ keonho smirks as he hands martin a list. ‘she’s got pretty good taste, bro. if i didn’t know, i would’ve thought it was you.’
martin skims over the first few songs, notes down the ones that have similar beats. when he lands on ms. lauryn hill last, he swears his heart skips a beat.
‘lauryn hill, huh? she knows her shit.’
‘should i get her up here?’
‘nah, seonghyeon’s doing the next set anyways.’
‘okay. don’t fumble, dude.’
‘god you’re obnoxious.’
another smirk from keonho before he makes his way to the bar, probably ready to tell james all about martin and his ‘intense looking’.
as the music flows around the room, threading its way between bodies, martin can’t help but be drawn to the way your lips curl when he starts another beat - his last before seonghyeon takes over. can’t take my eyes off of you plays, your request, and he finds the irony of it funny, because he really can’t take his eyes off of you.
not only were you beautiful, but your music taste could rival his own, and that was what really had him head over heels. as martin makes his way off stage, keonho hands him a beer before pointing in your direction.
‘liquid courage. talk to her before i get second hand embarrassment from all that staring.’
‘again, not staring.’
‘right. just looking intensely. got it.’
he rolls his eyes at that, turning away from the younger as fast as he can and, unluckily (or luckily) into you. beer soaks your top faster than either of you can comprehend.
‘oh, shit! i’m so sorry, i’ll go get you some tissues or wet wipes or something! or like, do you want to go to the bathroom? i can take you!’
martin doesn’t even realise it’s you, busy ignoring keonho’s snickering (he’s so getting tattled on later to james) in the back, only lifting his head when you make a comment.
‘you want to… take me to the bathroom?’
keonho laughs harder at that, full-bodied and tears streaming down his face. martin, despite his pure intentions, immediately turns red, stuttering out apology after apology.
‘hey man, it’s all good,’ you huff out in between giggles. he’s glad you’re smiling, at least. ‘but tissues would be nice. you’re lucky my girls aren’t here right now, they… have a way with words.’
‘yeah, yeah of course, the tissues are behind the bar.’
that’s that, martin thinks. he’s bottled it before he even had the chance.
‘aren’t you going to like, take me?’ the corner of your lips threatens to pull as you wait for his reaction.
‘oh! oh yeah i’ll take you. to the bar, not the bathroom.’
‘very easily confused.’
‘not too much on me now,’ martin complains. ‘pretty girl like you threw me off guard.’
‘so you think i’m pretty?’ i wanna be down by brandy plays as your voice carries to his ears.
martin’s thrown into another whirlwind of panic, stuttering yet again through his sentences to justify his claim.
‘relax, dude. i’m just playing. you need a beer after that insane set, d’you? loosen up a little?’
he huffs out a laugh at that, tilting his head yes before guiding you through the crowd. the amount of people packed into the one room causes his body to stick closer to yours, distance smaller than how it should be with a stranger.
not that you feel like one, not when he already knows what kind of music you listen to.
‘so, lauryn hill, huh? saw your request when i was still behind the deck.’ martin makes small talk as the pair of you arrive at the bar.
‘you like her stuff?’
‘like? i love. that was the best request all night.’
james appears, lifting a brow at the sight of his main dj finally getting game.
‘can i get y’all anything?’
‘oh, hey hyung, two beers and napkins for the lady, please.’
martin faces you as his manager sets down two beers between the two of you.
‘need any help with the shirt?’
‘nah, s’all good. just a spill, not the end of the world.’
you’re not looking at him anymore, focusing instead on getting the stain out of your top.
‘so, how’d you get into djing?’
‘always been pretty into music. my dad played a lot when i was a kid, guess that’s where i get it from.’
‘yeah?’ you take a sip of beer. ‘who’s your favourite?’
‘damn, asking the hard-hitting questions already!’ you laugh a little at that, and martin stops momentarily, admiring the way your hair flows off your shoulder.
‘nirvana, alice in chains, foo fighters, that kind of vibe.’
‘no way. i love nirvana. pearl jam, too.’
‘serious? i should’ve known you listen to good music after lauryn hill.’
you laugh at that, light and carefree, head tilted back slightly in a way where your neck is exposed and makes him blush a little. the conversation dies down a little, both of you turning away from the bar in favour of watching the dance floor.
when he turns his head again, in hopes of sneaking a look at you, martin finds you’re already looking at him.
‘what’re you looking at me for, hm?’ you ask.
‘just wondering how you’re spending your night after this.’ a burst of confidence on his part, but he’s really fearing for his mental health if someone as beautiful as you rejects him.
‘nothing much, why? you wanna take me out?’ you’re fully facing him now, elbow resting against the bar and body turned towards his.
the left corner of your mouth is threatening to twitch up, and your eyes are boring into his.
‘i mean, if the shoe fits,’ martin stutters, amazed at his own game.
‘yeah? ask nicely and maybe i’ll say yes.’
for all the confidence he had just a moment earlier, he’s really struggling to gather himself now. martin knows that you know, and the cheeky grin plastered on your face doesn’t hide it well.
‘do you, uh, maybe wanna get dinner with me later? y’know, like, after this?’
you stare for a moment, pretending to think about it, eyes flitting above his head, before taking a sip from the forgotten beer in your hand.
‘of course, dj. would love to know your name first, though.’
‘martin. it’s martin.’
‘ok martin the dj, let’s go get pizza.’ you give him your name before you face the exit, and martin’s quick to follow, scrambling to keep up with you.
he lets his right hand graze the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. as you both step through the door, he spares a look back into the club, catching the eye of keonho, who whistles before catching the attention of seonghyeon next to him.
the last thing martin hears before fresh air hits him is the unmistakable tune of always be my baby by mariah carey, no doubt the work of seonghyeon.
god forbid he wants to pick up a girl without the intervention of 17 year olds.
the light summer breeze weaves in and out as you begin to make the commute to that pizza place at the end of the street. his hand is brushing yours, soft and tentative, unsure of whether or not it’s acceptable.
his questions are answered when you link his pinky with your own, swinging your arms between the pair of you.
‘so tell me more about that music taste of yours.’
as you launch into a passionate rant on 2pac and west coast beats, martin realises that, he might be in deeper than he first thought.
oh, and that he’s glad he didn’t leave alone tonight, especially when his company is you.
‘girl you love yourself enough
just let me complete you, oh’
martin actually has me in a chokehold rn it’s not funny.
angst does too??? except it’s actually choking me??? what the fuck???
next fic WILL be angst don’t play.
- ceecee’s contribution ⋆˚࿔♫⋆˚࿔
synopsis. Y/N has spent years believing her childhood crush was the one. So when he suddenly comes back into her life, she’s determined to finally get her happy ending. So to get his attention, she team up with the one person she can’t stand, Eom seonghyeon.
pairing. . ! seonghyeon x / f ! reader
warning + info. . au of the book better than the movies, smau, seonghyeon, y/n and juhoon are childhood friends,slight angst, underrage drinking (don’t do that), mention of kiss, fake dating. frenemy to lover, stella from h2h as y/n bsf, kms joke
౨ৎ𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ. happy 10 follower day :p !! i started my account yesterday and don’t have cortisblr friend so guys bmf 🥺🥺🥺
synopsis; when cortis takes the festival stage, martin completely loses his focus to a beautiful girl at the barricade—leading to a reckless, breathless rush out of his getaway van just to get her number before she disappears into the crowd
tags; idol!martin x f!fangirlreader fluff drabble insane delusion 1027 words
notes; this is probably the peak moment of my delusion bc why am i giggling and kicking my feet while reading this (also you might notice that i’m completely and utterly in love with martin rn — hence why all of my fics rn are about him)
the bass from the main stage was still vibrating in your chest, even though the festival grounds were slowly clearing out. you were completely exhausted, your throat raw from screaming, and your feet aching from standing at the center barricade for hours. cortis had absolutely destroyed their set, and honestly, your brain was still fried from the sheer energy of it all.
but during that set, everything had felt different.
you had been standing right at the center barricade, holding your banner, completely radiating pure happiness as you sang along to every single word. you were just a normal fan living in the moment, completely unaware of what was happening on stage.
martin had stepped out with the rest of the members, his usual composed, but energetic stage presence locked in. but during the transition into their second song, his eyes had swept over the roaring crowd—and then they froze. right on you.
it was instant. to martin, the thousands of screaming people, the flashing pyrotechnics, and the booming music completely blurred into static white noise. all he saw was your smile under the festival lights, the genuine, unbothered joy on your face, and the way you looked so effortlessly beautiful just enjoying their music. right then, a heavy, magnetic pull settled deep in his chest. he fell hard, right there under the stage lights, experiencing a sudden, overwhelming wave of true love at first sight.
for the rest of the hour, he was completely yearning for you. his eyes kept unconsciously snapping back to your section of the barricade. whenever he walked to your side of the stage, his chest would tighten with a quiet desperation, his gaze locking onto yours as he sang, silently wishing he could just step off the stage and talk to you. he played directly to you, his heart aching with the sudden, terrifying thought that once the lights went down, you would just disappear into the crowd and he’d never see you again.
that yearning was still burning in his veins when the set finally ended and they were rushed back to the dressing rooms.
now, you were walking along a quieter, fenced-off sidewalk just outside the venue's secure perimeter, trying to navigate through the sea of fans heading toward the train station. right next to the sidewalk, a line of black vans with tinted windows was completely stuck in a massive festival traffic gridlock, their brake lights glowing red in the dusk.
you stopped under a streetlamp, pulling out your phone to check the videos you’d taken, entirely oblivious to the van idling just a few feet away from you.
inside that van, martin’s heart was hammering against his ribs. his mind was still completely consumed by the girl from the front row. he thought he’d lost you forever. but then, looking out the tinted window into the crowded street, he spotted your familiar face standing right there under the light.
before his brain could even process the consequences, before his manager could even yell at him to stop, martin grabbed his mask, popped the sliding door open, and stepped out into the humid evening air.
you didn't even notice the tall figure approaching until someone suddenly stepped directly into your space, blocking the light of the streetlamp.
you blinked, looking up. the guy had a light blue hoodie pulled up, but his face mask was tugged down to his chin. your lungs completely locked up. the breath died in your throat.
it was martin. the martin. he was still slightly flushed from the performance, a few strands of hair damp against his forehead, and his eyes were wide, blinking fast as he looked down at you.
"hey," he breathed out, his voice a little rushed, the words tumbling out of him like he was running out of time—which he absolutely was. "look, this has to be really quick because i’m literally going to get chewed out by my manager in five seconds, but... i saw you at the front row during the concert. i couldn't stop looking at you, and i just think you’re incredibly beautiful. can you please, please give me your number?"
you completely froze. your fan brain didn't just short-circuit; it went entirely dark. you stood there, utterly starstruck, your eyes darting from his intense gaze to the frantic waving of a manager inside the black van a few yards away. martin was looking at you with a mix of desperation and hope, his hands stuffed nervously into his hoodie pockets as he waited.
it took you a full, agonizing second to process reality. you looked at him, swallowed hard, and without a word, unlocked your phone and slid it directly into his palm.
"i'm y/n, by the way," you managed to say, your voice remarkably steady despite the chaos in your chest.
martin’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a wave of pure relief washing over his face. "cool," he murmured, his fingers quickly typing his digits into your contact list.
the van behind him let out a sharp, impatient honk.
martin quickly handed the phone back to you. but instead of just running off, he caught you completely off guard. he reached out, wrapping his arm firmly around your shoulders and pulling you flush against his chest for one brief, incredibly warm second. before you could even react to the clean, heavy scent of his cologne, he leaned down and pressed a firm, lingering kiss right against the top of your head.
"i gotta go," he whispered against your hair.
he let you go just as fast as he’d grabbed you. he turned on his heel and started sprinting back toward the idling van, his long legs eating up the pavement. just before he slid the heavy black door shut, he turned back to look at you one last time through the crowd.
he pointed at his phone, mouthing the words, i'll text you, before raising his hand to his lips and blowing you a quick, breathless kiss. the van door slammed shut, and the vehicle slowly crawled forward into the traffic, leaving you standing under the streetlamp, completely breathless, with his number in your hand.
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synopsis; what starts as a quiet after-school piano lesson quickly spirals into a sweet, dizzying string of stolen kisses as the sheet music is completely forgotten
tags; nonidol!martin x reader highschool au fluff drabble 1553 words
notes; got this idea on the way home from school — arghh i really need to get back into playing piano
the afternoon sun was filtering through the blinds of martin’s bedroom, casting long, golden stripes across the polished wood of his upright piano. it was a completely ordinary tuesday. you were just a normal student trying not to fail your music elective, and martin was just the quiet guy from your grade who happened to be good enough to help you pass.
"no, wait, your thumb goes on middle c for this chord," martin muttered softly, his voice low and steady in the quiet room.
he was sitting right next to you on the narrow wooden bench. there really wasn't much space, meaning every time you shifted or took a breath, your shoulders brushed. martin wasn't smooth, and he wasn't trying to be. he was just focused on the sheet music, his neatly rolled-up sleeves revealing his forearms as his fingers hovered over the keys.
but because he didn't really spend time around girls, the proximity felt heavy. you could smell the faint, clean scent of his laundry detergent, and whenever you accidentally messed up a note, you could see the slight jump in his jawline.
"like this?" you asked, pressing the keys down. a sharp, discordant sound echoed through the room.
martin let out a small, breathless huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "not quite. look."
he leaned in a little closer to demonstrate. his left hand brushed against your thigh as he braced himself on the bench, while his right hand gently covered yours, his warm fingers guiding your hand into the correct position. the sudden heat of his skin against yours made your breath hitch. you stopped looking at the piano entirely, your eyes tracking the slope of his nose, the serious concentration in his eyes, and the way his lower lip was tucked slightly between his teeth.
martin pressed the keys down, the perfect chord echoing and then fading into the silence of the room. he didn't pull his hand away.
slowly, he turned his head. because he was already leaning in, your faces were only inches apart. up close, you could see the exact moment his professional tutor filter completely dissolved. his chest rose and fell in a shallow breath, his eyes darting down to your lips before locking back onto yours. he looked incredibly human, a little vulnerable, and completely captivated.
"martin," you whispered, the sound barely carrying in the quiet space between you.
"yeah?" he murmured back, his voice suddenly rougher, losing all its academic stiffness.
he didn't say anything else. he didn't need to. martin closed the remaining distance between you, his hand sliding from your fingers up to the side of your neck, his thumb resting gently against your jawline.
the kiss was hesitant at first, a soft, questioning press of his lips against yours that made your heart do a sudden flip. but as you melted into it, hands gripping the edge of the wooden bench to keep your balance, martin let out a quiet sigh against your mouth. the kiss deepened, turning sweet and slow, completely untangled from the rest of the world. his fingers tangled slightly in your hair, pulling you just a fraction closer, until the piano elective and the sheet music were completely forgotten.
when he finally pulled away, his lips parted slightly as he caught his breath, his thumb still resting on your jaw. his cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, and he looked a little dazed, as if he couldn't quite believe he had actually just done that.
"sorry," he whispered automatically, his usual polite, quiet nature kicking back in, though his eyes were still incredibly dark and focused entirely on you. "i... i shouldn't have distracted you from the lesson."
you couldn't help but smile at how endearing he was, even right after kissing you. "martin, i think i was already pretty distracted."
a small, relieved smile broke across his face, melting away the last bit of his nervousness. he didn't move away. instead, his eyes drifted back down to your mouth, his gaze lingering there for a second before he leaned back in.
this second kiss was different. it wasn't hesitant at all. it was warmer, more confident, his lips sliding over yours with a soft, natural rhythm that felt like they belonged there. your hands moved from the bench to rest against his chest, feeling the steady, rapid thumping of his heart beneath his shirt. martin let out another quiet sigh, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his other hand coming up to rest gently on your waist, pulling you just a little bit tighter against him on the narrow bench.
when you both finally parted for air again, your foreheads rested together. you were both smiling, breathing a little heavily in the quiet room.
martin let out a small, breathless laugh, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "we are definitely not finishing this chapter today," he murmured, his thumb trailing down your cheek.
"is that a problem, teacher?" you teased softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
martin stared at you for a heartbeat, his heart skipping a beat at your tone. the absolute lack of his usual restraint was almost dizzying. "not at all," he whispered.
he didn't waste any more time talking. martin leaned down and claimed your lips for a third time, a sweet, lingering kiss that tasted like the quiet safety of his bedroom and the fading afternoon sun. it was slow and deep, a silent promise that things were changing between you.
eventually, the golden hour started to fade into dusk, and the reality of the clock meant you actually had to leave. you packed your notebook and your heavy sheet music into your bag while martin stood by his desk, awkwardly running a hand through his hair, suddenly looking like the quiet, polite guy from school again—except his lips were slightly redder and his eyes followed your every move.
he insisted on walking you out, carrying your heavy backpack for you down the stairs and through the quiet hallway of his house.
when he opened the front door, the cool evening air hit you both. you stepped out onto the paved driveway, the streetlamps just starting to flicker to life. martin stopped near the edge of the lawn, handing your bag back to you. he looked a little anxious, probably wondering how to say goodbye after everything that had happened on that piano bench.
"so," you said, slipping the backpack straps over your shoulders. you looked up at him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "thanks for the lesson, martin. i think i really learned a lot today."
martin’s cheeks flushed pink in the dimming light. "yeah. um. anytime. we can do the next chapter on thursday." He cleared his throat, looking down at you expectantly, his posture leaning in just a fraction, clearly hoping for one last real kiss before you left.
instead, you decided to tease him.
you went up on your tiptoes, making him lean down slightly, but instead of finding his lips, you shifted at the last second. you pressed a soft, lingering kiss right against his cheek, right on his warm cheekbone.
"see you on thursday," you whispered right against his skin.
you pulled back, gave him a sweet, innocent wave, and turned around to start walking down the driveway toward the sidewalk, feeling incredibly proud of yourself when you heard his breath hitch in surprise.
you only made it three steps.
suddenly, a hand caught your wrist. it wasn't rough, but it was firm and deliberate. before you could even register it, martin gently but quickly pulled you back toward him. your back flushed against his chest for a split second before he spun you around to face him.
all of his shy, quiet tutor energy was completely gone.
"not so fast," martin murmured, his voice incredibly low, a dark spark of confidence in his eyes that made your stomach completely drop in the best way possible.
before you could even laugh or say anything about his sudden boldness, he cupped the back of your head with his hand, his fingers tangling securely in your hair, and brought his lips down onto yours right there in the middle of his driveway.
this kiss was deep, breathless, and utterly dizzying. it was the kind of kiss that made your knees feel weak, completely wiping the teasing smile right off your face as you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. he kissed you with a quiet intensity, his other hand gripping your waist tightly, pulling you so close there was absolutely no space left between you. the cool evening air around you didn't even matter anymore; all you could feel was the warmth of his mouth and the frantic, heavy beat of his heart.
when he finally broke the kiss, he didn't let you go right away. he stayed close, his thumb gently stroking your jawline as you both caught your breath in the twilight.
martin looked down at you, a small, knowing smirk finally breaking across his face as he noticed how flushed and speechless you suddenly were.
"now you can go," he whispered softly, his voice full of affection. "see you on thursday."
synopsis; when cortis takes the festival stage, martin completely loses his focus to a beautiful girl at the barricade—leading to a reckless, breathless rush out of his getaway van just to get her number before she disappears into the crowd
tags; idol!martin x f!fangirlreader fluff drabble 770 words
notes; loved part 1 so much i just had to add this 🤭 part 3? maybe? soon? @hyccinths
the second the heavy van door slammed shut, the vehicle interior absolutely exploded into pure, unadulterated chaos.
martin fell back against the leather seat, gasping for air as a loud, hyperactive laugh burst out of his chest. he was practically vibrating with pure adrenaline, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes wide as he clutched his phone to his chest like a gold medal.
"are you completely insane?!" keonho shrieked, instantly matching martin's hyper energy by bouncing up and down in his seat and throwing a stray velvet neck pillow straight at martin’s head. "you just ran out into traffic for a girl?! dude, you're our leader! that was the funniest, most unhinged thing i've ever seen!"
"martin, look at our manager," juhoon said, his voice calm and collected as usual, though a massive, amused smirk was spreading across his face. "he's literally turning gray in the passenger seat. he's questioning his entire life choice."
"did you actually get it?!" seonghyeon asked, leaning over the seat with a grin, ever the charmer but currently just living for the drama. "man, i respect the hustle, but that was wild, even for you."
martin didn't care about any of it. he just kicked his legs out, a massive, unfiltered grin on his face as he unlocked his phone and shoved the screen directly into juhoon’s face. "she gave me her number! she actually gave it to me! and guys, she's literally been a fan for years, she was right at the center barricade! it’s destiny, i'm telling you, absolute fate—"
james, the oldest, let out a loud, booming laugh from the back, his usual funny, unserious side completely taking over. "fate?! martin, you looked like a raccoon sprinting toward a trash can before the broom hits you! if the paparazzi saw you, we'd be finished!" then, james's face suddenly shifted into full 'oldest member' serious mode, narrowing his eyes. "but seriously... if you get caught doing that again, i will personally lock you out of the dorms."
the teasing didn't stop when they hit traffic, and it definitely didn't stop when they got back to the dorms. the second the door closed behind them, the cortis members made it their absolute mission to roast their chaotic leader into oblivion.
"oh, y/n," keonho whined, dramatically dropping to his knees in the middle of the living room, clasping his hands together and looking up at the ceiling fan with wide, mocked desperation, fully leaning into his chaotic maknae energy. "this has to be really quick because i'm literally about to get murdered, but you are just so beautiful, please, please give me your digits!"
"wait, wait, you forgot the smooth part," seonghyeon cackled, strutting over with an exaggerated, charming wink before aggressively planting a massive, loud wet kiss right on top of keonho’s messy hair. "i gotta go! text you later, babe!"
james was practically rolling on the floor laughing, slapping the ground, while juhoon just sat on the kitchen counter, quietly sipping a glass of water, chuckling softly at the absolute circus in front of him.
"stop it!" martin yelled, laughing so hard he tripped over a stray slide in the hallway and crashed onto the sofa. he threw a couch cushion at them, entirely unbothered by the mockery because he was still riding the ultimate high. "i panicked, okay?! the manager was honking! the head kiss was a strategic, high-pressure move!"
"you looked like a panicked puppy," juhoon wheezed from the kitchen, breaking his calm demeanor for a second.
martin rolled his eyes, ignoring his members as he clutched his phone, suddenly growing intensely focused. his thumbs flew across the screen, his tongue poking out slightly between his teeth as he carefully drafted a text, his hyper energy channeling into sheer nerves.
meanwhile, across the city, you were sitting on the edge of your bed, still in your festival clothes, staring blankly at your phone. your brain was still entirely short-circuited. you were ninety percent sure you had suffered heatstroke at the main stage and hallucinated the entire thing.
then, the screen lit up.
unknown number:
HEYYY y/n!! it's martin from the van lmao. my manager almost murdered me but it was 1000% worth it!!!
unknown number:
the members are literally reenacting the whole thing in the living room right now and making fun of me for kissing your head but i panicked ok i wanted to be smooth😭
unknown number:
anyway you looked so incredibly pretty tonight. please tell me you're free to grab food with me this week?! (i promise i won't jump out of a moving vehicle this time)
synopsis; when cortis takes the festival stage, martin completely loses his focus to a beautiful girl at the barricade—leading to a reckless, breathless rush out of his getaway van just to get her number before she disappears into the crowd
tags; idol!martin x f!fangirlreader fluff drabble insane delusion 1027 words
notes; this is probably the peak moment of my delusion bc why am i giggling and kicking my feet while reading this (also you might notice that i’m completely and utterly in love with martin rn — hence why all of my fics rn are about him)
the bass from the main stage was still vibrating in your chest, even though the festival grounds were slowly clearing out. you were completely exhausted, your throat raw from screaming, and your feet aching from standing at the center barricade for hours. cortis had absolutely destroyed their set, and honestly, your brain was still fried from the sheer energy of it all.
but during that set, everything had felt different.
you had been standing right at the center barricade, holding your banner, completely radiating pure happiness as you sang along to every single word. you were just a normal fan living in the moment, completely unaware of what was happening on stage.
martin had stepped out with the rest of the members, his usual composed, but energetic stage presence locked in. but during the transition into their second song, his eyes had swept over the roaring crowd—and then they froze. right on you.
it was instant. to martin, the thousands of screaming people, the flashing pyrotechnics, and the booming music completely blurred into static white noise. all he saw was your smile under the festival lights, the genuine, unbothered joy on your face, and the way you looked so effortlessly beautiful just enjoying their music. right then, a heavy, magnetic pull settled deep in his chest. he fell hard, right there under the stage lights, experiencing a sudden, overwhelming wave of true love at first sight.
for the rest of the hour, he was completely yearning for you. his eyes kept unconsciously snapping back to your section of the barricade. whenever he walked to your side of the stage, his chest would tighten with a quiet desperation, his gaze locking onto yours as he sang, silently wishing he could just step off the stage and talk to you. he played directly to you, his heart aching with the sudden, terrifying thought that once the lights went down, you would just disappear into the crowd and he’d never see you again.
that yearning was still burning in his veins when the set finally ended and they were rushed back to the dressing rooms.
now, you were walking along a quieter, fenced-off sidewalk just outside the venue's secure perimeter, trying to navigate through the sea of fans heading toward the train station. right next to the sidewalk, a line of black vans with tinted windows was completely stuck in a massive festival traffic gridlock, their brake lights glowing red in the dusk.
you stopped under a streetlamp, pulling out your phone to check the videos you’d taken, entirely oblivious to the van idling just a few feet away from you.
inside that van, martin’s heart was hammering against his ribs. his mind was still completely consumed by the girl from the front row. he thought he’d lost you forever. but then, looking out the tinted window into the crowded street, he spotted your familiar face standing right there under the light.
before his brain could even process the consequences, before his manager could even yell at him to stop, martin grabbed his mask, popped the sliding door open, and stepped out into the humid evening air.
you didn't even notice the tall figure approaching until someone suddenly stepped directly into your space, blocking the light of the streetlamp.
you blinked, looking up. the guy had a light blue hoodie pulled up, but his face mask was tugged down to his chin. your lungs completely locked up. the breath died in your throat.
it was martin. the martin. he was still slightly flushed from the performance, a few strands of hair damp against his forehead, and his eyes were wide, blinking fast as he looked down at you.
"hey," he breathed out, his voice a little rushed, the words tumbling out of him like he was running out of time—which he absolutely was. "look, this has to be really quick because i’m literally going to get chewed out by my manager in five seconds, but... i saw you at the front row during the concert. i couldn't stop looking at you, and i just think you’re incredibly beautiful. can you please, please give me your number?"
you completely froze. your fan brain didn't just short-circuit; it went entirely dark. you stood there, utterly starstruck, your eyes darting from his intense gaze to the frantic waving of a manager inside the black van a few yards away. martin was looking at you with a mix of desperation and hope, his hands stuffed nervously into his hoodie pockets as he waited.
it took you a full, agonizing second to process reality. you looked at him, swallowed hard, and without a word, unlocked your phone and slid it directly into his palm.
"i'm y/n, by the way," you managed to say, your voice remarkably steady despite the chaos in your chest.
martin’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a wave of pure relief washing over his face. "cool," he murmured, his fingers quickly typing his digits into your contact list.
the van behind him let out a sharp, impatient honk.
martin quickly handed the phone back to you. but instead of just running off, he caught you completely off guard. he reached out, wrapping his arm firmly around your shoulders and pulling you flush against his chest for one brief, incredibly warm second. before you could even react to the clean, heavy scent of his cologne, he leaned down and pressed a firm, lingering kiss right against the top of your head.
"i gotta go," he whispered against your hair.
he let you go just as fast as he’d grabbed you. he turned on his heel and started sprinting back toward the idling van, his long legs eating up the pavement. just before he slid the heavy black door shut, he turned back to look at you one last time through the crowd.
he pointed at his phone, mouthing the words, i'll text you, before raising his hand to his lips and blowing you a quick, breathless kiss. the van door slammed shut, and the vehicle slowly crawled forward into the traffic, leaving you standing under the streetlamp, completely breathless, with his number in your hand.
Genre: Fluff, comedy, established relationship, livestreamer AU
Synopsis: Keonho's viewers tune in for creepy internet mysteries, but once tiny handwritten notes start appearing on the whiteboard behind him, the real mystery becomes the girl leaving them
Warning(s): Jealous Keonho (the funny kind), Twitch/live chat behavior, true crime videos, excessive flirting (from viewers, not Keonho), lots of fluff 🥹
Word Count: ~2.5k+
A/N: Hai! I got nothing much to say except I hope you enjoy!! I have like a list of ideas I’m going through, so I’m trying to alternate between doing requests and my ideas! 😊
(Keonho and his Friday nights…)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
There were exactly three things Keonho's viewers expected every Friday night. A complicated crime case, a forty-five minute deep dive that somehow turned into two hours, and Keonho saying-
"Hey, guys! Welcome back."
Every. Single. Week.
He'd lean back into the black desk chair he'd owned for years, smile at the camera, tap the marker against the massive whiteboard behind him, and immediately launch into whatever mystery he'd spent the last several days researching. Sometimes disappearances, sometimes unsolved murders, sometimes bizarre internet mysteries…but whatever it was, he ALWAYS had to use the whiteboard. It didn’t matter if it was diagrams, timelines, maps, names connected by arrows, or colored circles around important evidence, if something couldn't fit on the whiteboard, he simply just bought a bigger whiteboard. His viewers loved making fun of him for it too.
"bro i think that’s enough whiteboard space"
"Your lives are made up of 10% Keonho and 90% whiteboard."
"One day he's gonna need to make all the walls in his house whiteboards.”
Keonho always laughed.
"Don't tempt me.”
♡
The filming room had slowly become recognizable to almost three million people. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with case files, psychology books, and binders that somehow all looked equally organized. Another wall had a framed silver play button sitting slightly crooked because Keonho refused to straighten it, and under it, his desk stayed…surprisingly clean despite the number of notebooks scattered across it.
And of course…the giant whiteboard behind him. That never seemed to change. Even the notes in the corner stayed. Not because Keonho intentionally left it alone…but mostly because he didn’t realize it was even there.
♡
"...You're going live in fifteen."
You wandered into the office carrying two mugs. Keonho didn't even look up from the notes spread across his desk.
"Mhm."
"I made your tea."
"Mhm."
"You answered without listening."
"I always listen."
"You definitely don't ALWAYS listen."
"I definitely do."
You smiled despite yourself before placing the mug beside his keyboard. He immediately reached for it without looking.
"...Thanks, baby."
"Woah, hi hello!!."
"Hm?"
"You acknowledged me."
"I always acknowledge you, baby."
"You literally answered me with 'mhm' three times."
"I was researching last minute things."
"You were staring at one sentence on a word document."
"...It was a complicated sentence."
"It said..." You leaned over his shoulder, reading directly from the page. "'The suspect entered the building at approximately 8:47 p.m.'"
"...Very complicated, right?"
You laughed softly, ruffling his hair a bit.
"I'll leave you to your incredibly difficult reading."
You started toward the door before stopping beside the whiteboard. The corner was completely blank.
Your eyes flicked toward Keonho. Still reading…still completely focused. A tiny smile tugged at your lips as you quietly picked up one of the markers sitting in the tray.
Pink. Perfect.
In tiny handwriting, you tucked into the very bottom right corner...
“don't forget dinner tonight ♡”
You capped the marker exactly where you'd found it.
"...Bye baby."
"Mhm."
"..."
"...Love you."
That finally got his attention. He looked up immediately.
"...I love you too!"
You grinned.
"There he is!!”
♡
Eight o'clock arrived exactly on schedule. The familiar countdown finished, and the red LIVE indicator appeared.
Chat exploded.
“FIRST”
“WE'RE SO BACK”
“Hello Keonho!!!”
“I MISSED FRIDAY”
“NEW CASE??”
Keonho adjusted the microphone slightly before smiling toward the camera.
"Hey, guys!" The chat immediately sped up. "Welcome back,” More messages flooded the screen. "I hope everyone's week's been good." He reached for the marker behind him. "Tonight..." He uncapped it dramatically. "...we're talking about one of the strangest missing person cases I've researched all year."
Chat loved when he started like this. Within minutes, the stream settled into its usual rhythm. He drew a timeline across the whiteboard, added names, connected locations, circled evidence, explained witness statements, and answered questions between paragraphs. Everything felt completely normal.
Until, nearly forty minutes in, one message appeared.
“wait what's written in the bottom corner??”
Keonho kept talking. Didn't notice. Another message.
“HOLD ON. pause. what's the pink writing”
Then another.
“DOES ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT”
More people started scrolling back through the stream. Some zoomed in, someone actually took a screenshot, and other viewers enhanced it. By the time Keonho finished explaining a suspect timeline, half the chat had completely stopped discussing the actual case. Instead-
“I THINK IT SAYS DON'T FORGET DINNER TONIGHT”
“WAIT DOES IT??”
“WHO WROTE THAT”
“HELLO???”
“IS HE MARRIED??”
Keonho read the chat briefly and frowned.
"...What are you guys talking about?"
More messages.
“BOTTOM RIGHT”
“LOOK DOWN”
“YOUR WHITEBOARD”
He blinked.
"...My whiteboard?"
His eyes finally drifted downward toward the tiny pink handwriting. Silence.
"...Oh."
A smile escaped before he could stop it. Small and soft. Completely unconscious actually. Chat noticed immediately though.
“HE SMILED”
“HE'S BLUSHING”
“WHO WROTE THAT”
Keonho quickly cleared his throat.
"...Anyway."
The chat refused to move on.
“ANYWAY???”
“NAHHH WHO WROTE IT”
“HELLO”
“EXPLAIN YOURSELF”
He sighed through a laugh.
"...It's..." Another pause. "...Nothing important."
“NOTHING IMPORTANT???”
“BRO LITERALLY SMILED”
“THAT IS ABSOLUTELY IMPORTANT”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"...Let's..." He pointed dramatically toward the timeline. "...Focus on the homicide."
Yeah…not a single person listened. Because outside in the living room, you were watching the stream and trying very, very hard not to laugh.
♡
You’d really think the first note should have been the end of it. Uhhhh, yeah, it wasn't.
By the following Friday, another message had mysteriously appeared before Keonho went live. This time it sat tucked beneath the corner of his evidence timeline, small enough that he completely overlooked it while setting up.
“remember to stretch your back :(“
The stream lasted nearly an hour before someone noticed.
"Guys," Keonho laughed, glancing between the scrolling chat and the whiteboard behind him. "Can we please focus on the serial arsonist for, like...fiveeeee minutes?"
Absolutely not. The comments only multiplied.
“SHE'S BACKKKKK”
“WHITEBOARD GIRL RETURNED”
“WAIT THAT'S ACTUALLY THE SAME HANDWRITING FROM LAST WEEK”
“SHE CARES ABOUT HIS POSTURE 😭”
He finally twisted around in his chair, squinting at the tiny pink writing.
"Oh."
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. One that lingered just long enough for the chat to catch it.
"Oh my god," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "I forgot she wrote that."
The chat instantly exploded.
“SHE???”
“HE SAID SHE”
“Confirmed female YES”
“WHO IS SHE KEONHO?”
He cleared his throat and uncapped another marker.
"Anyway." With three quick strokes, he drew a neat box around the little note. "There. It officially counts as evidence now. You happy?"
The flood of messages only doubled.
♡
It became a tradition without either of you ever talking about it. Somewhere between making him coffee before every livestream and stealing one of his hoodies because his office was always freezing, you simply…started leaving little notes whenever you stopped by. They would remind him to eat, to drink water, just say, “hi :)”, or “don't forget to blink”, or “good luck!! <3”.
Every single one ended up on the whiteboard. Which meant…his viewers always found them first.
Eventually, spotting the weekly note became its own game. People stopped guessing what case he'd be covering and instead would immediately begin zooming in on the whiteboard.
“HAS ANYONE FOUND THE NOTE YET”
“THERE'S ALWAYS ONE”
“CHECK THE BOTTOM CORNER”
“ENHANCE”
Keonho would only sigh dramatically.
"You guys are unbelievable. I spent twenty-three hours researching this case and you're all conducting handwriting analysis instead."
That only encouraged them more.
♡
The questions started soon after.
“tell her we said hi please”
"Hm?" Keonho glanced over. "...I'll consider it."
“WE LOVE HER”
"I heard you."
“WHAT'S HER NAME”
"...No."
“IS SHE SINGLE?”
He looked directly into the camera.
"...Interesting question,” Another pause. "No."
He immediately clicked to the next slide.
"So anyway, let's talk about why this suspect's alibi completely falls apart-"
The chat completely ignored him.
“HE ANSWERED THAT SO FAST”
“BRO DIDN'T EVEN THINK”
“POSSESSIVE MUCH???”
“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take at I right?”
Keonho snorted.
"...Yeah. You also miss 100% of the shots when she's already my girlfriend."
The silence lasted exactly half a second. Then the livestream chat completely imploded.
♡
The internet somehow became even worse over time. Every livestream started exactly the same way now. Keonho would spend days researching another case, carefully organize his notes, adjust the lighting in his office, and mentally prepare himself to discuss some of the strangest crimes he'd ever read about, but his viewers prepared to look for you. Not the whiteboard. You.
The comments started before the stream had even officially begun.
“Do you guys think she’s home??”
“WHITEBOARD CHECKKKK”
“WE NEED A GIRLFRIEND UPDATE”
Keonho pinched the bridge of his nose once he got on.
"...You people realize this is a crime channel, right?"
“nope, girlfriend channel now”
“where's mama”
He stared blankly at the monitor.
"...'Mama?'"
More messages flew by.
“YES”
“MOTHER”
“SHOW HER”
He sighed so dramatically it made half the chat laugh.
"oh…my gosh."
♡
For weeks, nothing changed. You still stayed off-camera. Sometimes your footsteps could barely be heard somewhere deeper in the apartment, sometimes a mug would quietly appear on his desk halfway through the stream, and other times another tiny note appeared in the corner of the whiteboard. That was enough to keep the internet entertained.
But that changed one Friday night.
♡
You had genuinely forgotten he was live. The grocery bags hanging from your wrist were heavier than expected as you nudged the office door open with your shoulder.
"Keonho?"
He looked over instinctively, regardless of his live.
"Hm?"
"I bought your favorite chips."
"You did baby?"
"Mhm."
"You're the best."
"You've said that before this week."
"Because you are."
You walked toward the desk, setting the grocery bag beside him before reaching for the marker he had in his hand. While he continued explaining a witness statement, you quietly bent over the whiteboard and wrote one more tiny message in the corner.
“you better eat the strawberries before i do ♡”
You smiled to yourself before stepping back.
"Okay. I'm going to put everything away."
"Love you."
"Love you too."
Without another thought, you leaned down beside his chair to kiss the top of his head. It lasted barely two seconds before you disappeared toward the kitchen.
Silence. Keonho slowly turned back toward his monitor. Bigggg mistake.
The chat was moving so quickly he could barely read it.
“SHE'S REAL OH MY GOSH”
“SHE KISSED HIS HEAD”
“SHE'S SO PRETTY WTF”
“Him calling her baby >>>”
“HELLO???”
His eyebrows knitted together.
"...Pretty?"
Another flood.
“SHE LEANED DOWN”
“WE SAW HER FACE 😛”
“KEONHO WHAT”
His eyes widened.
"...You saw her?"
He slowly replayed the camera preview sitting in the corner of his monitor. Sure enough, when you'd leaned down, your face had slipped perfectly into frame.
"...Oh,” He buried his face in both hands. "No way..."
♡
Attempting to continue his stream after that became impossible. He tried. He really did.
"...So according to the timeline-"
“SHE'S GORGEOUS”
"...The suspect-"
“Question! How did you pull her?”
"...Entered through-"
“IS YOUR GIRLFRIEND SINGLE”
He stopped writing altogether.
"...No."
Another comment appeared almost instantly.
“can i have her instagram then”
"Double no."
“what about her number”
"...triple no."
“please”
He looked directly into the camera.
"...She's not a giveaway."
The chat only laughed harder.
"So...no."
♡
A few minutes later, you wandered back into the office carrying a bowl of washed strawberries.
"You forgot these."
"I was literally just about to get them!"
"Rightttt."
You noticed him smiling strangely.
"...What?"
"They saw you."
"...Who?"
"My viewers."
You froze.
"...They what?"
Before you could process another word, the chat exploded again.
“SHE'S BACK”
“HI MOTHER”
“PLEASE WAVE IN VIEW!!”
You instinctively leaned closer to the monitor.
"...They're writing to me?"
"Mhm."
"Oh..."
You came in view slightly and smiled shyly before giving the tiniest little wave.
"H…hai!"
Yeah that was the end of it. The comments became unreadable.
“SHE WAVEDDDDDDDD!!!!!”
“I’m crying I’m so in love”
“PLEASE DATE ME”
“KEONHO MOVE”
You blinked, reading one of the comments coming in.
"...Date me?"
Keonho immediately jumped up from leaning back in his chair.
"...No."
You laughed, stepping back a bit.
"They're joking."
"I know. I hope…"
You reached over to fix the collar of his hoodie where it had folded underneath itself.
"There. You looked uncomfortable."
"I was, thank you."
Your fingers lingered for another second before you started to step away fully. Without really thinking, Keonho gently caught your wrist. You looked down at it, and then back at him.
"...Everything okay baby?"
"...Yeah," He smiled sheepishly. "...Just..."
Instead of answering, he carefully tugged you closer until you were standing between his knees. One arm rested loosely around your waist, and he looked up at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen. Then, without warning, he clicked one button.
STREAM PAUSED.
♡
Meanwhile, the chat absolutely lost its mind.
The frozen frame showed nothing except Keonho looking up at you like you'd just saved the word. His arm rested around your waist and you were smiling down at him.
The comments flew by faster than ever.
“They’re kissing I can just FEEL it”
“LOOK AT THE WAY HE'S STARING UGH”
“bro is gone omg”
“SO whipped for her”
“I’ve never seen someone look so in love 😭”
♡
"What are you doing?" you laughed.
"I paused."
"I can see that."
"They're being weird."
"They've been weird."
"They're complimenting you too much."
You tilted your head.
"...Are you jealous?"
"...No."
"Hmm."
"...Maybe a little."
You couldn't help smiling.
"They're just teasing you."
"I know, but you're still my girlfriend."
"I am."
"And they're not getting your number…or your Instagram."
"I wasn't planning on giving it to them."
"Good."
You laughed before leaning down to kiss him softly.
"There. Feel better?"
"...A lot."
♡
When the stream resumed, you were gone. The bowl of strawberries sat on the desk instead.
The chat immediately called him out.
“WHERE'D SHE GO”
“GIVE HER BACK”
“FREE HER”
Keonho casually popped one strawberry into his mouth.
"She's making dinner."
“Well YOU GO MAKE DINNER”
"...but then you’ll see her."
“SELFISH”
"I am,” He smiled without even trying to hide it. "I waited eight months before any of you even knew she existed. You'll survive."
♡
By the next Friday, Keonho had learned absolutely nothing. He adjusted his microphone and smiled toward the camera.
"Hey, guys! Welcome back."
Before chat could type a single message, he pointed toward the bottom right corner of the whiteboard where a tiny note already waited there.
“don't stay up too late tonight ♡”
He read it once. Then looked back into the camera with the most unapologetically smug smile imaginable.
"Yes. I know. My girlfriend wrote it."
The chat exploded before he even finished.
“WE KNOW”
“YOU SAY THAT EVERY WEEK”
“SHE'S OUR FAVORITE PART”
"...Now,” He uncapped his marker. "Can we please solve a murder?"
The first comment that appeared read:
“no”
Keonho sighed.
"...I was afraid you'd say that."
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
A/N: Not sure how I feel about this because I think it’s a cool idea…I just don’t know if I executed it well. And I’m also not so sure about the cliffhanger ending, I was trying something new. TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS!!!
sypnosis oddly specific things you find insanely attractive ( hyeon ver )
notes skinship, established relationship, jealousy, fluff, not proofread (juhoon ver ) (james ver)
when he tuck your hair behind your ears
You were busy talking when a loose strand fell on your face. You didn't noticed until Seonghyeon's fingers reached out and tucked it behind for you, silencing your words in a second. He only looked at you confused, "you okay?...why did you stop?"
giving you his jacket when your cold
You rubbed your arms, trying to act tough like the cold didn't bother you. He noticed it anyway. Rolling his eyes, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders effortlessly. "just ask next time, okay?" he said softly, "...I'm not cold anyway"
sending you this genre of selfies unexpectedly
Your phone buzzed in the middle of class. Clicking it, you were fully expecting a "what you doin" or maybe a "im bored" from him. Only to see him, leaning back, long legs stretching out under the low table. You stared at the screen for a solid minute. He knew exactly what he was doing.
his dimple smile
Someone made a comment so scandalous you had to look for him. Looking around the room, you finally saw him, how his eyes were already onto yours. Not even a second passed and you both started giggling uncontrollably. However, seeing his dimple smile made you completely forget what you're laughing about just now.
getting jealous easily and being open about it
A friend only greeted at you and the next thing you know, Seonghyeon is already glaring daggers at him, "who's that?" he asked, a bit too casual. Your answer doesn't matter much to him━ his face was already pissed off. "I don’t like him" he muttered. "You don't even know him", "so? still don't like him"
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OMG can u pls write a heated oneshot with james and yn making out in the pool
hell yeah i can sorry this took so long baby
𝓦arnings : suggestive, makeout, pool at night, heated. drabble
It was late— way too late for anyone else to be out here—but you and James had the place to yourselves, the distant nois of the resort fading into nothing. You floated on your back for a bit, the cool water lapping at your skin, while he treaded water nearby, his blond hair slicked back, droplets tracing down his neck.
“Shit, this feels good,” he murmured, his voice low and lazy. “Been a long-ass day. Glad you dragged me out here.”
You laughed softly, turning to face him. “You were the one complaining about the heat earlier. Figured this would shut you up.”
He smirked, swimming closer until you could see the way his eyes darkened under the dim lights. “Oh, I’m not complaining now. Not with you looking like that.” His gaze flicked down to your wet swimsuit clinging to your body, then back up. God, you were gonna kill him tonight.
You splashed him lightly. “Eyes up here, asshole.”
“Can’t help it.” He closed the distance, his hands finding your waist under the water, pulling you against him. The contact sent a spark through you— his chest warm against yours despite the cool pool. “You’ve been teasing me all damn evening with those little looks. What, you think I didn’t notice?”
Your breath hitched as his fingers splayed over your hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin just above the waistband of your bottoms. Over the fabric, but firm. Possessive. “Maybe I wanted you to notice,” you whispered, your arms looping around his neck. Your legs brushed his under the water, and he groaned quietly.
“Fuck, you drive me crazy, you know that pretty girl?” James’s voice was rough now, his forehead resting against yours for a second before he tilted his head and kissed you.
It started slow—soft presses of his lips, tasting like chlorine. But then you parted your lips, and it deepened fast— his mouth moved hungrily against yours, tongue slipping in to tangle with yours in a way that made heat pool low in your belly. You kissed him back just as hard, fingers threading through his wet hair, tugging lightly.
Holy shit, this is… Your thoughts scattered as one of his hands slid up your back, pressing you closer, palm flat and warm over your spine. The other stayed at your hip, gripping tight enough that you could feel the tension in his fingers through the thin material. No slipping under, just the delicious friction of skin and wet fabric, bodies grinding subtly in the water as the kiss turned heated, messy.
You nipped at his bottom lip, earning a low curse from him—“Jesus, babe”—before he chased your mouth again, deeper, more desperate. His hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of your side, thumb grazing just under the edge of your top but never pushing further. It was all heat and restraint, the kind that left you both breathing hard between kisses.
“You’re so fucking addictive,” he muttered against your lips, stealing another kiss before you could reply. His heart hammered against yours, or maybe that was yours—you couldn’t tell anymore.
A sharp crack echoed from the bushes nearby—like a branch snapping underfoot—followed by rustling.
You both froze mid-kiss, lips still brushing. James pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his chest heaving and for a split second, you stared at each other, wide-eyed and flushed.
Then another rustle.
A laugh bubbled up from your chest first, uncontrollable. “What the hell was that? A raccoon tryna watch?”
James snorted, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as his own laughter shook through him. “Shit—probably some nosy security guard.” He pulled back fully, grinning like an idiot, water dripping from his lashes. “Moment ruined.”
You giggled harder, shoving his chest playfully even as the heat lingered between you. “Guess that’s our cue to not get kicked out tonight.”
He shook his head, still chuckling as he stole one last quick kiss—soft this time, teasing. “Yeah, yeah. But this isn’t over my pretty girl.”
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─── you got sick during the day where you guys were supposed to perform for a big event, so you hid it until you couldn’t anymore
★ keonhyeon × 6th member!reader
word count ── 8.5k
˖᯽ ݁˖ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 coco speaking here! FIRST 6TH MEMBER ENTRY FIC AND ITS A SHORT STORY LMAO 🤭 HONESTLY I LOCKED IN SO HARD AFTER SEEING THAT REQUEST AND IM SUPER EXCITED TO CONTINUE THIS 𖧧 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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The dressing room had always been the liveliest place in the building before a performance. It was an organized sort of chaos, one that every member had grown accustomed to over the years.
Music leaked from someone's speaker, blending with the muffled cheers of fans filtering through the concrete walls outside. Stylists hurried from one chair to another with curling irons, makeup brushes, and armfuls of freshly steamed stage outfits. Managers called out reminders that no one was listening to. Laughter erupted every few seconds over conversations that constantly overlapped one another.
It was noisy, comfortably so. The familiar disorder had always settled your nerves before stepping onto a stage. Today, however, the sounds surrounding you felt strangely distant, as though you were hearing everything through layers of water.
James occupied the center of the room, unable to remain still for longer than a few seconds. Even while waiting for final touch-ups, his feet instinctively traced fragments of the choreography across the floor, lips silently counting each beat beneath his breath.
"Five, six, seven..." He pivoted too sharply, his elbow narrowly colliding with Martin's shoulder for what had to be the third time in less than five minutes.
"Bro," Martin sighed, taking a step back before another collision could happen. "Watch where you're going."
"I am watching."
"No," Martin deadpanned, adjusting the rings decorating nearly every finger. "You're literally walking into me."
James blinked. "...Was I?"
"Yes bro."
"Oh." Two seconds passed, then he absentmindedly drifted forward again.
Martin caught himself before impact and simply stared. "...Okay I’m taking a break."
Meanwhile, Juhoon remained secluded in the quietest corner of the room, entirely detached from the surrounding commotion. His earbuds muted the world's constant chatter as he methodically stretched his shoulders, neck, and wrists with practiced precision. His movements were slow, measured, deliberate, almost meditative.
Across from him, Keonho had somehow managed to sprawl himself across three separate chairs as though they had been specifically designed for his personal comfort. “I just finished my obby in Roblox!" he announced dramatically to absolutely no one.
"Are you done with your break yet?" Seonghyeon replied without looking up.
"Nah, I’m tired."
"You’re just being lazy bro."
"No I’m not, my legs have been hurting since this morning."
Seonghyeon sighed before casually tossing the makeup sponge in his hand. It struck Keonho directly in the forehead. "...Ow."
Another toss directly at Keonho. "Stop."
"No."
"Seriously."
"No."
"Seonghyeon."
"No."
"Martin," Keonho whined, sitting halfway upright. "Tell him to stop."
Martin didn't bother lifting his gaze. Instead, he continued straightening the silver rings adorning his fingers with meticulous concentration.
"You’re grown, just throw something back at him."
A brief silence settled over them. "...You’re right," Keonho admitted.
The room dissolved into another wave of laughter. Ordinarily, you would have been laughing alongside them, you would have thrown another makeup sponge at Keonho yourself, you would have teased James for rehearsing choreography every waking second or stolen one of Juhoon's earbuds just to see him finally react.
This room had never simply been a dressing room, it had become home. A sanctuary hidden behind backstage hallways where exhaustion transformed into excitement, where nervous anticipation dissolved into jokes, and where every performance began long before anyone stepped beneath the blinding stage lights.
Yet today, everything felt oddly disconnected, like you were standing several feet away from your own body, merely observing the scene instead of existing within it. Quietly, you tugged the oversized hoodie closer around yourself, your fingers instinctively gripping the sleeves until the fabric concealed most of your hands.
It wasn't because you were cold. Although, maybe you were. It was difficult to tell anymore, your body couldn't seem to decide whether it was freezing or burning alive. A dull ache settled behind your eyes, pulsing relentlessly with every beat of your heart. Each throb radiated deeper into your skull until even the fluorescent lights overhead felt painfully bright.
Swallowing became an ordeal. Your throat felt scraped raw, every movement accompanied by a sharp sting that refused to disappear no matter how often you reached for your water bottle. Your muscles protested even the smallest motions, simply sitting upright required far more effort than it should have. Every joint felt unbearably heavy, as though invisible weights had been fastened to your limbs overnight.
Sleep hadn't helped, medicine hadn't helped. Nothing had, you knew exactly why. The moment you'd opened your eyes that morning, you knew. Your forehead had been burning. Your entire body had shivered beneath blankets despite the overwhelming heat radiating from your skin.
A fever, and not a mild one.
Your manager had suggested resting, the company doctor had advised you not to overexert yourself. Even looking in the mirror had been enough to tell you something was wrong. Your complexion lacked its usual color, faint shadows settled beneath your eyes, and the exhaustion clinging to your expression couldn't be disguised with even the most skilled makeup artist.
Under any other circumstances, you would've stayed in bed without hesitation. But today wasn't an ordinary schedule, today was one of the largest university festivals of the year. Thousands upon thousands of fans had gathered hours before the gates even opened. Multiple cameras would broadcast the performances live. Special collaboration stages, months of relentless rehearsals, countless sleepless nights, endless practice until every movement became instinct.
Too many people had worked too hard for you to disappear because of a fever. There wasn't a universe where you would willingly miss it. So you smiled. You laughed at the appropriate moments, you nodded through conversations, you answered questions with just enough enthusiasm to avoid suspicion, you performed normalcy almost as carefully as you performed on stage. No one needed another problem to worry about.
"...You okay?" The voice interrupted your thoughts.
You slowly lifted your head, and Juhoon removed one earbud. His usually serene expression hadn't changed much, but his gaze remained fixed on you with quiet attentiveness.
"Hm?"
"You've been awfully quiet."
"Oh." You forced a small smile. "I'm just... sleepy."
He studied you carefully, as though attempting to piece together something you hadn't said aloud. "...Did you actually sleep last night?"
The question lingered between you. You hesitated for the smallest fraction of a second before answering. "I slept fine…."
It wasn't exactly the truth, but it wasn't entirely a lie either. You had slept, just not well. Not peacefully, not in any way that resembled actual rest.
Juhoon's eyes remained on yours for another lingering moment. Long enough that your heartbeat subtly quickened, long enough for you to wonder whether he had noticed the faint flush spreading across your face... or the slight tremor hidden within your hands.
Then, he simply gave a quiet nod. "...Okay." Without another word, he placed the earbud back in his ear and resumed stretching.
The conversation ended there, you released a breath so quietly that no one noticed.
You were safe. At least, for now.
Except...
Your performance wasn't nearly as convincing as you believed it to be. You had spent the entire morning carefully constructing an illusion, masking every symptom behind practiced smiles and casual responses, convincing yourself that if you acted naturally enough, no one would question it.
Unfortunately, the people surrounding you knew you far too well.
Especially when something felt even slightly off. By the time rehearsal began, the enormous stage was already buzzing with activity.
Towering LED screens illuminated the venue in shifting colors while technicians hurried across the platform adjusting cameras, checking microphones, and shouting cues through their headsets. Dancers occupied every corner, running through formations one final time before the audience would eventually flood the festival grounds.
Music thundered through the stadium speakers, powerful enough that it vibrated beneath your shoes. Usually, that familiar bass settles your nerves. Today, it only made the pounding inside your skull significantly worse. You inhaled quietly. Just one rehearsal, then the real performance. You could manage that, you had to.
The opening track began. Your body moved almost entirely on instinct, years of relentless practice carrying you through each sequence despite the overwhelming fatigue weighing down every muscle. Every step, every turn, every transition had long since become engraved into your memory. Yet your concentration continued slipping through your grasp.
The choreography blurred together, the lights overhead seemed unusually brilliant, forcing your eyes to squint against their intensity, the relentless heat radiating from your skin contrasted strangely with the persistent chill creeping through your fingertips.
You blinked for only a fraction of a second, and that was enough. Instead of moving forward on the second count, your foot landed a beat too late.
Most people probably wouldn't have even noticed. The formation remained intact, the audience certainly never would have realized. But someone did, Martin. His awareness during rehearsals bordered on frightening. The music hadn't even finished before he turned toward you, eyebrows subtly knitting together.
"You normally step two counts earlier."
You glanced toward the mark on the floor before offering an apologetic smile. "...I know."
Silence lingered for a brief moment, Martin studied your expression. "You okay?"
The question arrived so naturally it almost caught you off guard. You answered just as quickly. "Yeah."
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, his gaze drifted over you once more, taking in details you desperately wished would remain unnoticed. The slight sluggishness in your movements, the faint flush coloring your cheeks despite the cool air inside the venue, the way your breathing seemed just a little heavier than usual.
"...You sure?"
"Mhm." You smiled, the exact smile you'd been giving everyone since waking up that morning.
Martin simply stared. His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. He had known you for years, long enough to distinguish every genuine smile from every fabricated one. This was definitely the latter. Still, he chose not to press the issue. "...Okay."
Nearly ten minutes later, rehearsal paused for a short break. The music abruptly faded, replaced by scattered conversations as dancers wandered toward the sides of the stage to catch their breath. Staff members quickly distributed towels while stylists rushed in for last-minute touch-ups.
James, unsurprisingly, had volunteered to pass around bottled water before anyone else could. "You get one."
He tossed a bottle toward Seonghyeon. "You too."
Another landed neatly in Juhoon's lap.
"Keonho."
"What?"
"Drink water."
"I'm not thirsty."
"I wasn't asking."
"So bossy…."
James ignored the complaint altogether before continuing down the line until he eventually stopped in front of you. "Here."
You accepted the bottle with a quiet smile. "Thanks."
Your fingers brushed against his hand for barely a second and James froze. "...Whoa."
You blinked. "What?"
He instinctively reached forward again, lightly catching your wrist before you could pull away. His eyebrows lifted almost immediately. "...Your hands."
You looked down. "My hands?"
"They're freezing."
You let out a small laugh, attempting to sound unconcerned. "They're fine."
James shook his head almost instantly. "No."
His grip wasn't tight, just enough to keep your hand from slipping away. He rubbed his thumb lightly across the back of your knuckles, his expression gradually shifting from confusion to unmistakable concern. "They're literally ice cold."
You gently withdrew your hand before anyone else noticed. "It's probably just the air conditioning."
James instinctively glanced toward the massive ventilation units mounted high above the stage. "...The air conditioning doesn't make someone's hands that cold."
You shrugged as casually as you could manage. "I guess I just get cold easily."
His lips pressed into a thin line. That explanation didn't satisfy him in the slightest. James wasn't usually the most observant person in the room. In fact, he often overlooked things everyone else noticed immediately.
But whenever it came to the members, especially you. His instincts rarely failed him. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. "...If you say so," he murmured at last.
Backstage descended into complete pandemonium as the final countdown approached. The corridors that had seemed relatively calm only moments ago were suddenly overflowing with movement.
Production staff hurried from one end of the venue to the other, clipboards clutched tightly against their chests as they called out last-minute instructions over the deafening noise. Stylists darted between artists with remarkable efficiency, adjusting collars, smoothing wrinkles, reapplying makeup that had begun to fade beneath the relentless stage lights, and carefully securing in-ear monitors so they wouldn't shift during the performance.
Managers moved with equal urgency, repeatedly checking schedules and communicating through crackling headsets. "Three minutes."
"Camera three is ready."
"Pyrotechnics are confirmed."
"Stand by."
Every announcement blended into another until individual voices became impossible to distinguish. Beyond the heavy backstage curtains, the audience was already roaring. Thousands upon thousands of excited fans filled the stadium, their collective cheers reverberating through the walls with enough force to make the floor tremble beneath your feet.
Ordinarily, hearing them would have filled you with anticipation. It was the sound every performer longed for. Today, It felt overwhelming. Your heartbeat echoed relentlessly inside your ears, drowning out nearly everything else.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It almost seemed louder than the crowd itself.
The fluorescent lighting hanging overhead appeared unusually brilliant, forcing you to squint against its harsh intensity. Heat spread uncomfortably beneath your skin until it seemed impossible to breathe. Then, without warning a violent chill coursed through your body.
The abrupt contrast made your teeth threaten to chatter, your vision wavered only for the briefest moment. The hallway tilted ever so slightly before righting itself again. Instinctively, your hand shot forward, fingers curling tightly around the edge of a nearby equipment table.
Cold metal pressed against your palm. You inhaled slowly, steady. Just steady.
Don't panic now, not when you had made it this far. One performance, just one. After that, you could collapse into bed and sleep for an entire day if necessary. You only had to hold yourself together for another hour.
"...You look pale."
The voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned your head, Keonho had somehow materialized beside you without making a sound. He wasn't joking. Instead, his usual playful grin had been replaced by something considerably more concerned.
You forced an easy smile. "I always look pale."
"No."
His answer came almost immediately. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face with surprising concentration. "You look..." His sentence trailed off as though he couldn't quite find the right comparison. His eyebrows gradually pulled together. "...Like you’re about to die."
Despite everything, a quiet laugh escaped you. almost involuntary. "I promise I'm okay."
Keonho didn't return your smile. "You don't sound okay."
"I'm fine."
"You've been saying that all day."
"Because I am."
His eyes narrowed. "You've coughed six times in the last ten minutes."
You blinked. "...I did not."
"I’ve counted."
"I—" A tickle blossomed deep inside your throat. You barely had enough time to turn your head before another cough escaped. then another. You pressed your fist against your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound. It didn't help much.
Silence followed.
Keonho slowly folded his arms across his chest. His expression became almost unbearably smug. "...Seven."
You stared at him.
He lifted a single eyebrow. "Busted."
"...You're actually counting?"
"I started after the third one."
"You seriously have nothing better to do?"
"Apparently not."
You rolled your eyes, grateful that he had shifted the conversation back toward something familiar, even if only briefly.
Before either of you could say another word— "CORTIS!" The stage manager's voice rang throughout the hallway. "Two minutes!"
Instantly, the atmosphere transformed. Casual conversations vanished, the joking stopped, every member instinctively gravitated toward one another until all six of you stood together in a tight circle just beyond the stage entrance.
Martin extended his hand first, without hesitation, everyone stacked theirs on top. James, Juhoon, Keonho, Seonghyeon, then yours.
Martin glanced around the circle, making eye contact with each member before speaking. “Our usual.”
"Don’t forget our lyrics." Seonghyeon added without missing a beat.
"Don’t forget our formation." Keonho dramatically placed a hand over his heart.
"And absolutely no embarrassing fancams" James immediately grinned.
"No injuries." Martin nodded.
James snorted. "That’s hard to get through."
"It isn't."
"It really is."
Seonghyeon pointed directly at Keonho. "He’d probably break a finger.”
A chorus of laughter erupted almost instantly. You laughed too, only for a moment. The sound disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. Your smile faded before anyone else seemed to notice almost. But Martin did. His gaze lingered on you for just a fraction longer than usual.
Long enough to notice how quickly your expression had fallen, long enough to recognize the exhaustion hiding beneath your carefully maintained composure. Concern flickered across his features before he quietly asked, "...Ready?"
You swallowed against the persistent ache in your throat, then nodded. "...Ready."
The stage doors opened, an explosion of brilliant light flooded your vision, the deafening roar of the audience crashed over you like an ocean wave. Thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands. An endless sea of illuminated light sticks stretched across, shimmering beneath the night sky like constellations brought down to earth.
For one breathtaking moment, everything else disappeared. The fever, the dizziness, the aching muscles, the relentless pounding inside your head. Adrenaline surged through your bloodstream with overwhelming intensity, silencing every protest your body had been making throughout the day.
The opening notes echoed through the stadium, your body moved before your mind had the chance to think. Months of repetition took over. Every count, every transition, every formation, every lyric, every expression practiced endlessly inside mirrored rehearsal rooms. Muscle memory carried you effortlessly across the stage.
You danced, each movement appeared just as sharp as it had during rehearsal. You sang, your voice remained remarkably steady despite the burning sensation lingering in your throat. You smiled, bright enough that cameras captured nothing but confidence.
You waved toward every section of the audience, fans screamed your name until their voices became indistinguishable from one another. To everyone watching, you looked perfectly fine. The audience noticed nothing unusual, the broadcast cameras captured flawless angles, the MCs enthusiastically praised the performance from the sidelines.
Not a single person outside the group would have guessed you had woken up with a high fever. Your performance was nearly immaculate, because the people who had spent years standing beside you didn't need obvious signs. They recognized the smallest deviations.
Halfway through the second song, Seonghyeon caught it first. Your breathing. Usually, your inhalations remained controlled regardless of how demanding the choreography became. His eyes lingered on you for a beat longer than necessary before returning to the choreography.
By the beginning of the third chorus, Keonho noticed something different. Normally, during formation changes, you'd instinctively glance toward whichever member happened to be beside you. A quick smile, a playful expression, some tiny interaction reserved for fans paying close attention.
This time, your eyes never left the floor markings. You weren't looking at anyone, you were concentrating entirely on maintaining your balance. On staying upright, mn making sure your legs continued carrying you through each step.
During the final chorus, James happened to catch your hand while the choreography briefly brought you shoulder-to-shoulder, only for a split second.
Martin saw your eyelids flutter noticeably slower than usual, like keeping them open had suddenly become difficult. Then, the cameras shifted toward another member.
Barely noticeable to anyone else, Juhoon saw your hand briefly press against your stomach as you lowered your head, your fingers tightening against the fabric of your outfit for the shortest moment before smoothly returning to your side.
The movement lasted less than two seconds, the cameras missed it, the audience missed it, everyone else missed it. Your members didn't. One by one, the same realization settled over each of them.
Something was very wrong.
The final note echoed across the stadium. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though time itself had paused. Then, an explosion of silver and sapphire confetti erupted from above, cascading through the air in shimmering waves that reflected the stadium lights like falling stars.
The audience's cheers swelled into an almost deafening roar. Thousands of voices merged into one overwhelming chorus, chanting the group's name with unwavering enthusiasm. It was impossible to distinguish individual faces anymore. All you could see was a sea of glowing light sticks stretching endlessly into the darkness.
Everything you had worked toward for years stood before you. You forced another brilliant smile, the kind fans expected, the kind cameras loved.
You raised your arm, waving toward every section of the audience despite the growing ache radiating through your shoulders. "Thank you!" Your voice carried through the microphone with practiced warmth. "We had so much fun tonight!"
The members stood shoulder-to-shoulder, bowing deeply toward the crowd one final time. "Thank you for coming!"
More cheers, more applause. Another wave, another smile, another carefully maintained illusion. Every movement demanded far more energy than you had left. Your vision blurred briefly as you straightened from the bow, you blinked until the world sharpened again.
Just a little longer, only a few more steps.
The cameras followed the group as everyone began making their way toward the backstage entrance, continuing to wave until the very last possible second. Your smile never faltered, not once.
The instant you disappeared behind the towering stage curtains, everything collapsed. The overwhelming rush of adrenaline that had carried you through the performance vanished with astonishing speed, abandoning your body all at once.
The exhaustion returned tenfold, your hearing dulled, the voices surrounding you became muffled, as though someone had wrapped thick fabric around your ears, the hallway tilted.
No… It wasn't the hallway, it was you. Your legs suddenly refused to cooperate. Strength drained from your muscles so abruptly that your knees buckled beneath your weight. The floor rushed toward you.
"Whoa!"
Before you could hit the ground, a pair of strong arms caught you securely around the waist. James. His reflexes had acted before his mind even processed what was happening. "What the—"
His voice broke off in alarm as he steadied your unbalanced weight against him. The sudden movement instantly drew everyone's attention.
Martin spun around almost immediately. "What happened?"
Juhoon reacted just as quickly, reaching behind you to unclip your microphone pack before it could crash onto the floor. The expensive equipment barely cleared your body before he set it aside.
Seonghyeon was already kneeling beside you, his usual easygoing expression had vanished entirely.
Keonho hurried over next. For perhaps the first time all day, there wasn't even the slightest trace of humor lingering on his face. His playful demeanor disappeared so completely that it almost startled you. "...Hey." His voice came out quieter than expected.
Your breathing had become irregular, every inhale felt painfully shallow, every exhale trembled despite your efforts to steady it. "I..." You instinctively tried to push yourself upright. "I can..."
The moment you attempted to stand, the entire world lurched violently. Your vision darkened around the edges, the hallway spun in dizzying circles. You instinctively reached for something to stabilize yourself but found only empty air. "...I can't..." Your voice barely rose above a whisper.
James immediately tightened his grip around your shoulders, supporting nearly all of your weight without hesitation. "You don't have to."
"I..." You swallowed against the burning pain in your throat. "I'm okay."
"No." Martin's response arrived instantly. For perhaps the first time that day, there wasn't even a hint of gentleness in his voice. "For once..." He took another step closer. "Stop saying that." Silence settled over the group. "You are not okay."
You lowered your gaze. "I just need..."
The sentence never reached completion. A violent coughing fit seized your chest without warning. You doubled forward instinctively, one hand flying to your mouth as each cough became harsher than the last.
Your lungs burned, your throat felt raw, breathing itself became unexpectedly difficult. The hallway fell silent, completely silent. Even the bustling activity surrounding other artists seemed to fade into the background.
Juhoon's eyes widened ever so slightly. For anyone else, the change might have gone unnoticed, but the members knew him well enough to recognize that expression. It meant he was genuinely worried.
Seonghyeon slowly reached forward. "...Can I?"
You gave the faintest nod. The back of his hand brushed gently against your forehead. His expression changed immediately. He pulled his hand away as though the heat had startled him. His eyes lifted toward Martin. "...Hyung." His voice came out unusually subdued. "She..." A brief pause. "She’s burning up."
James stared at him. "...What?"
Without waiting for confirmation, he placed his own hand against your forehead. The moment his skin made contact, his eyes widened dramatically. "...Oh my gosh." His voice was barely audible. "You're..." He shook his head in disbelief. "You're absolutely burning."
Martin looked at you, horror gradually settling across his face as realization finally clicked into place. "You have a fever."
You immediately attempted another weak smile. "It isn't that—"
"It is." The interruption came quietly.
Everyone turned toward Juhoon, he rarely interrupted people. When he did, it usually mattered. His calm voice remained remarkably even. Yet beneath that familiar composure lingered unmistakable certainty. "You've had one all day."
Your eyes slowly found his. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, almost hesitantly. "...You knew?"
Juhoon nodded once. "I wasn't completely certain." His gaze remained steady. "But..." He exhaled softly. "I suspected."
Pieces of the day suddenly replayed inside your mind. The lingering glance in the dressing room. The questions. The way he had continued watching you during rehearsal. He hadn't been imagining things, he had noticed.
"You still performed." His voice softened further. "...Why?"
The question pierced far deeper than you expected. Your gaze drifted toward the floor. You searched for an answer that sounded reasonable, one that justified everything. "I..." Your fingers tightened weakly around the sleeve of your hoodie. "I didn't want to disappoint anyone."
Nobody answered. The silence that followed felt infinitely heavier than any response could have been. Then–
Flick.
"...Ow." Your forehead stung.
You instinctively looked up. Keonho stood directly in front of you, his hand still half-raised from flicking your forehead. Normally, his expression after doing something like that would've been mischievous, teasing, accompanied by an insufferably proud grin.
Instead, he looked devastated. His eyes shimmered with frustration. He looked hurt. "...You idiot." The words were quiet, almost fragile.
You blinked. "I..."
"You seriously thought..." He stopped himself, taking a slow breath before speaking again. "You thought we'd rather watch you collapse after the performance than know you were sick?"
Your lips parted. "I just didn't want—"
"You should've told us."
For the first time since any of you had met him, his voice cracked.
"We're a team." He swallowed. "If one person's hurting… We will deal with it together." He gestured toward the rest of the members. "You don't have to carry everything by yourself."
Your chest tightened, the exhaustion, the fever, the overwhelming relief of finally no longer pretending… Everything crashed into you simultaneously, your vision blurred, not from dizziness this time, your eyes burned. "...I didn't want everyone worrying."
A small, bittersweet smile appeared on Seonghyeon's face. He crouched beside you again, his voice impossibly gentle. "...Too late."
James gave a tiny nod. Martin folded his arms, though the sternness on his face had softened into quiet concern. Even Juhoon's usually unreadable expression carried unmistakable relief that the truth had finally come out.
Seonghyeon reached over, lightly squeezing your shoulder. "We've been worried all day."
James let out a quiet sigh. "You just didn't let us help."
Martin shook his head. "You've spent the entire day protecting everyone else's feelings." His gaze met yours. "...Now it's our turn to take care of you."
The moment your manager understood the severity of the situation, every remaining commitment on the day's itinerary was abandoned without hesitation. There was no discussion, no negotiation, no insistence that you could simply "push through it."
The decision was immediate. "Cancel everything." His voice carried a level of authority that silenced the room almost instantly. "The post-performance interviews are off." He turned toward another staff member. "Notify the broadcasting team."
Another nod.
"The radio recording scheduled for tonight?"
"Canceled."
"The behind-the-scenes content?"
"Canceled."
"The promotional livestream?"
"Canceled."
Every obligation that had once seemed impossible to postpone disappeared from the schedule within minutes. Phones rang continuously throughout the backstage hallway as managers hurried to contact organizers, publicists, and production teams. Apologies were exchanged, rescheduling discussions began, none of it mattered to you anymore. The only priority left was getting you back to the hotel.
The journey there felt strangely subdued. Ordinarily, the van would have been filled with excited chatter after a successful performance. James would enthusiastically replay clips from the stage, insisting everyone watch his favorite moments. Keonho would dramatically complain about some microscopic mistake that nobody else had even noticed. Martin would pretend not to laugh before inevitably joining the conversation. Seonghyeon would tease everyone until the entire vehicle dissolved into another round of laughter. Even Juhoon, despite his naturally reserved personality, usually smiled quietly while listening to everyone else.
Tonight, none of that happened. The silence settled gently over the van, the kind of silence born from shared concern. Rain hadn't begun to fall outside, but the city lights still reflected softly across the windows as the vehicle navigated through evening traffic. Streetlights streaked past in blurred ribbons of gold and white.
You rested against the seat, every ounce of energy seemingly drained from your body. The adrenaline that had sustained you throughout the performance had disappeared entirely, leaving nothing behind except overwhelming fatigue. Even keeping your eyes open demands effort.
James occupied the seat directly beside you, he hadn't said much since leaving the venue. Instead, his attention remained fixed almost entirely on you. Every time the van rolled over uneven pavement or turned too sharply around a corner, he instinctively reached out before you had the chance to lose your balance.
When the driver slowed suddenly at a traffic light, your body tipped slightly forward. James immediately steadied you with a gentle hand against your shoulder. "You okay?" His voice barely rose above a whisper, as though speaking too loudly might somehow make your headache worse.
You gave the smallest nod. "...Mhm."
He wasn't convinced again. But unlike earlier, he didn't argue. He simply kept his hand resting nearby, prepared to catch you again if necessary.
Several minutes passed before Juhoon quietly leaned forward from the seat behind you. Without saying anything at first, he unscrewed the cap of a water bottle he'd been holding before extending it toward you.
"You need this." His voice remained calm, gentle, almost soothing.
You slowly accepted it. "...Thanks."
Your throat still burned every time you swallowed, but the cool water offered a fleeting moment of relief. Not enough to make you feel better, just enough to make breathing hurt a little less.
Juhoon waited until you had taken several careful sips before speaking again. "Drink slowly."
You nodded obediently.
He didn't add anything further, he simply settled back into his seat, satisfied that you were at least staying hydrated.
A few minutes later, another shiver unexpectedly coursed through your body. It arrived without warning. One moment, your skin felt unbearably warm. The next, an icy chill wrapped itself around you so intensely your shoulders instinctively curled inward. You rubbed your arms through the fabric of your hoodie, hoping the sensation would pass. It didn't.
Martin noticed almost immediately. From the opposite side of the van, his eyes lifted from the schedule displayed on his tablet. "You cold?"
You hesitated, then quietly nodded. "...A little."
Without another word, Martin reached toward the air conditioning controls mounted above the seats. The steady stream of cool air gradually weakened before disappearing altogether. The warmth inside the vehicle slowly returned. Still, you continued shivering.
Martin watched for another moment. Then, with characteristic practicality, he pulled the oversized hoodie he had been wearing over his head. "You'll be warmer in this."
Before you could protest, he carefully draped it across your shoulders. The soft fabric settled comfortably around you, noticeably larger than your own sweatshirt. It retained the lingering warmth from where he'd been wearing it only moments earlier. A faint scent of fresh laundry detergent clung to the material, accompanied by traces of the subtle cologne he always wore. The familiar fragrance surrounded you almost immediately.
You instinctively pulled the sleeves closer around yourself. "...Thank you."
Martin simply nodded once."No problem."
Across the aisle, Keonho appeared completely absorbed in his phone. At least, that was the image he attempted to maintain. His thumb lazily scrolled through social media, occasionally tapping at the screen with exaggerated nonchalance. Anyone glancing over would have assumed he was far too distracted to notice anything happening around him.
Except, every thirty seconds, almost precisely every thirty seconds, his eyes drifted upward. Just for a moment, long enough to check whether your eyes remained open. Whether your breathing still looked steady, whether you seemed any worse than before.
The instant he confirmed you were still conscious, he'd immediately lower his gaze back to the screen as though nothing had happened. Then another half minute would pass, and he'd do it again. It became so predictable that James eventually noticed. Without turning his head, he quietly muttered, "...You're checking on her."
Keonho's eyes remained fixed on his phone. "No, I'm not."
"You've looked up six times."
"I have not."
"Seven."
"...You're counting?"
James shrugged. "I started after the third one."
For the briefest moment, Keonho looked genuinely offended.
Then he sighed, locking his phone without another attempt to deny it. "...Fine."
His voice was barely audible. "I just..." He glanced toward you one more time. "...I wanted to make sure she didn't pass out."
The confession lingered in the quiet van. No one laughed, no one teased him for caring. Because the truth was, every single person inside that vehicle had been doing exactly the same thing. Some were simply less obvious about it than others.
By the time the van finally pulled beneath the hotel's covered entrance, the exhaustion weighing upon your body had become almost unbearable. The journey itself hadn't been particularly long, but every passing minute seemed to magnify the fever's relentless grip.
Your muscles felt impossibly heavy, as though every movement required far more strength than your body could offer. Even lifting your head from the seat demanded a level of concentration that should never have been necessary.
The vehicle rolled to a gentle stop. Outside, the hotel entrance glowed beneath elegant chandeliers, their warm golden light spilling across the polished stone driveway.
The manager climbed out first, exchanging a few hurried words with the staff waiting near the entrance before opening the sliding door. "We're here."
One by one, everyone stepped onto the pavement. James turned toward you almost immediately. "Easy."
He extended a hand without hesitation. You accepted it, allowing him to help you out of the van. The instant your feet touched the ground… Your knees nearly buckled again. The solid pavement beneath you felt strangely unsteady. Your vision swayed, you instinctively reached toward the side of the van for support.
"...I'm fine."
James caught your elbow before you lost your balance. "You don't look fine."
You forced yourself upright, taking a slow breath. "I can walk."
"No." His answer arrived so quickly that you almost laughed. "...Seriously."
"I can."
"No." James folded his arms. His expression carried the unmistakable stubbornness everyone in the group recognized immediately. Normally, the two of you would have turned this into a playful argument. Tonight, there wasn't anything playful about it.
"I've walked farther than this before."
"No."
"It's literally only the lobby."
"No."
"I—" Before another protest could leave your lips, someone quietly stepped in front of you. You looked up.
Seonghyeon.
Without saying another word, he turned around and lowered himself into a crouch directly in front of you. "...Get on."
You blinked. "...What?"
He glanced over one shoulder. "Piggyback."
The suggestion caught you completely off guard. "...Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
"I'll crush you."
Seonghyeon slowly turned back toward you, looking so dramatically offended that even Martin let out the faintest sigh. "...Excuse me?"
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"You've seen me."
"I have."
"I'm not exactly light."
He placed a thoughtful hand beneath his chin, pretending to contemplate the matter with exaggerated seriousness. "Hmm..." Everyone waited, after several unnecessarily dramatic seconds, he finally nodded to ."You weigh..." Another pause. "...Approximately..." He squinted as though performing complex calculations. "...Two pillows."
Silence. Then, a weak laugh escaped you before you could stop it. "...Two pillows?"
"Mhm."
"I don't think you've ever picked up a pillow."
"I've picked up plenty."
"Clearly not."
"They're notoriously heavy."
James snorted.
Martin pinched the bridge of his nose.
Keonho muttered, "That's the worst comparison you've ever made."
"I disagree." Seonghyeon looked back at you again, smiling far more gently this time. "I'm serious."
"So am I."
"I don't want to inconvenience you."
"You won't."
"I can manage."
"You've been saying that all day."
The words weren't harsh, just quietly honest. He shifted slightly, still crouched in front of you. "...Come on."
You hesitated.
He smiled. "You've carried me emotionally for years."
You blinked. "What?"
"You listen every time I complain." He began counting on his fingers. "You've stayed awake helping me memorize lyrics, covered for me when I overslept, talked me through panic before concerts, and convinced me I wasn't completely hopeless after that awful audition." A small grin tugged at his lips. "I think..." He glanced back over his shoulder. "I can return the favor."
Your eyes softened. "You don't have to."
"I know." His voice remained impossibly warm. "I want to."
A brief silence settled between the two of you. Then he added with a quiet chuckle, "I can carry you physically for five minutes."
The remark earned a chorus of amused laughter, and despite the pounding in your head, you laughed, only softly for a moment. But this time, it felt genuine. "...Fine."
Seonghyeon's smile brightened immediately. "I knew you'd say yes."
"I didn't."
"You were going to."
"I really wasn't."
"You absolutely were." With one last sigh of surrender, you carefully leaned forward. Your arms settled loosely around his shoulders while he reached behind to secure your legs.
"...Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
Without the slightest indication of strain, Seonghyeon stood smoothly to his full height. The movement was so effortless that you blinked in surprise. "...See?" He adjusted his grip slightly. "Told you."
"You weren't kidding."
"I rarely kid."
Every member stared at him, James raised an eyebrow. "That's the biggest lie you've told all year."
"...Okay."
Seonghyeon laughed. "I occasionally kid."
"You've been making jokes for the last ten minutes," Martin pointed out.
"Details."
The group began making their way toward the hotel entrance together. The revolving glass doors turned quietly as staff respectfully greeted everyone upon entering.
Throughout the entire walk, Keonho remained close, very close. He positioned himself beside Seonghyeon without anyone asking him to. His pace matched theirs perfectly. Every few steps, his gaze instinctively drifted toward you. Checking your expression, watching your breathing, making sure your eyes stayed open.
At one point, when Seonghyeon stepped down from a curb leading toward the lobby entrance, Keonho's hand instinctively lifted. It hovered only inches beneath your leg. Not touching, simply waiting. Ready to catch you if your balance shifts. The moment the step was over, he lowered it again as though nothing had happened.
Several minutes later, another uneven section of flooring again, and his hand rose again. Almost unconscious in its timing. He never acknowledged it, never said a word, never drew attention to what he was doing.
But the others noticed, James noticed, Martin noticed, Juhoon noticed, even Seonghyeon felt it every time Keonho instinctively moved closer whenever your weight shifted unexpectedly. No one teased him, no one pointed it out, because they all understood. For all of Keonho's endless jokes, dramatic complaints, and playful antics, when someone he cared about was hurting. His concern always revealed itself in the quietest ways.
The moment the hotel room door clicked shut behind the six of you, the atmosphere shifted completely. The bright stage lights, the roaring audience, the cameras, the endless expectations. All of it remained outside. Within the quiet sanctuary of the room, there were no performers. No carefully rehearsed smiles, no need to convince anyone that you were perfectly fine.
There were only six exhausted people who had spent years becoming one another's family, and at that particular moment. Five of them shared the exact same objective, making sure you recovered.
As expected, Martin assumed responsibility before anyone else even had the opportunity to speak. He didn't hesitate, didn't ask for opinions. He simply assessed the situation with the same composed efficiency that had earned him the unofficial title of the group's dependable leader years ago.
His eyes swept across the room once, then he began issuing instructions. "James." James looked up immediately. "Medicine."
"Got it."
Without another word, he disappeared toward the kitchenette, already rummaging through the medical supplies the company insisted every group carried during schedules.
"Juhoon." Juhoon had already retrieved an empty glass from one of the cabinets. "Water."
He gave a quiet nod. "I'm already filling it."
Martin wasn't surprised, of course he was. Juhoon always anticipated what people needed before they asked.
"Keonho." Keonho straightened from where he'd been helping you remove your shoes. "Blankets."
"I'm on it." He vanished into the bedroom, returning moments later with far more blankets than anyone had actually requested.
James stared. "...Planning to mummify her?"
"You can never have too many blankets."
"I think four qualifies."
"She’s cold."
"She’s also running a fever."
"Exactly."
James blinked. "...I don't think that's how fevers work."
"I wasn't a science major."
"You weren't any major."
"...Rude." Despite the exchange, Keonho still carefully draped every blanket over you with surprising gentleness.
Martin almost smiled. "Seonghyeon." He was already opening one of the drawers. "Temperature."
"I've got the thermometer."
Within only a few minutes, the once ordinary hotel room had undergone a remarkable transformation. Water bottles lined the bedside table. Medicine rested neatly beside them. Extra pillows appeared from somewhere. Blankets were layered carefully around your shoulders. A small trash bin had even been moved closer to the bed.
It looked less like a hotel room now, and more like a miniature recovery station assembled entirely through quiet teamwork.
You sat propped against the headboard, cocooned beneath multiple oversized blankets until only your face remained visible. "I can't move."
Keonho looked entirely satisfied. "Good."
"I've become a burrito."
James returned first, carrying a small packet of medication. "Here." He carefully placed the tablets into your palm. "Medicine."
Almost simultaneously, Juhoon approached with a steaming mug. "Warm water." He offered it toward you. "Drink slowly."
The warmth seeped pleasantly into your chilled fingers as you wrapped both hands around the mug. "...Thank you."
Before you could take the medicine, Martin reached over. "Wait." He picked up the instruction leaflet again.
James blinked. "You already read it."
"I'm reading it again."
"You've read it twice."
Martin ignored him. He carefully scanned every line one final time. Dosage, side effects, time intervals. Satisfied, he finally nodded. "Okay." He handed the tablets back. "Nothing crazy."
You sighed dramatically. "...You’re being paranoid now."
"I've had to be." He folded his arms. "You become impossible to handle when you're sick."
Your eyebrows immediately lifted. "I do not."
"You do."
"When?"
Martin gave you an incredulous look. "You spent the entire day insisting you were perfectly healthy."
"I managed."
"You nearly collapsed."
"I stayed standing until the performance ended."
"Barely."
"I still succeeded."
James raised a hand. "Objection."
"Denied."
"You can't deny your own objection."
"I just did."
Martin looked at you with complete seriousness. "You literally attempted to convince five people you weren't sick."
You opened your mouth, nothing came out.
A soft electronic beep interrupted the conversation. Seonghyeon lowered the thermometer, his cheerful expression fading almost immediately as he looked at the display. The room fell noticeably quieter.
"...Thirty-nine point two."
Silence, complete silence. Even James stopped smiling.
Martin slowly looked up. "...What?"
Seonghyeon silently turned the thermometer around. Martin stared, then rubbed a tired hand across his face. "...That's over a hundred and two."
James looked horrified. "You had that kind of fever?"
Across the bed, Keonho slowly turned toward you. His eyes widened in complete disbelief. "...You seriously danced an entire festival like this?"
You shrank slightly beneath the blankets. "...Maybe."
"Maybe?" He stared another second. Then dramatically dropped backward onto the mattress with an exaggerated groan. "You stress me out."
"I didn't mean to."
"I know." He sighed deeply, running both hands through his hair, his expression softened almost immediately afterward. "...That's what makes it worse."
Without another word, he shifted closer. Then gently rested his head against your shoulder. He simply leaned there, saying absolutely nothing. His quiet presence somehow communicated far more than words ever could.
You didn't move away, a few peaceful seconds passed. Then the mattress dipped again. "...Scoot over." You turned.
Seonghyeon had decided there was apparently enough room for one more person. He settled beside your opposite shoulder, carefully making sure not to jostle you too much. Now, you were sandwiched between them.
James immediately laughed. "...You're literally making her into a sandwich."
"It’s okay." Seonghyeon looked entirely pleased with himself. "The safest place."
"You two have absolutely no understanding of personal space." Martin shook his head, though there wasn't any real irritation behind the words.
James pointed toward him. "You say that..."
Everyone looked over. Martin had unconsciously begun tucking one corner of the blanket more securely around your shoulder after it slipped. He froze.
James grinned wider. "You're literally fixing her blanket."
Martin looked down, then quietly adjusted it anyway. "...Shut up."
Laughter instantly filled the room. Martin couldn't suppress the reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The warmth of that shared laughter settled softly throughout the room, wrapping around all of you as comfortably as the blankets piled across the bed. The kind of laughter that only existed between people who had known one another long enough to understand every habit, every expression, and every unspoken thought.
As you listened to them teasing each other over absolutely nothing, a realization settled gently inside your chest. Home, had never been defined by walls, home had always been this. James stealing everyone else's snacks before pretending he had no idea where they'd gone. Martin sighing dramatically every time someone ignored the schedule he'd painstakingly organized. Keonho borrowing hoodies without permission and somehow insisting they had belonged to him all along. Seonghyeon finding excuses to make everyone laugh, even during the most exhausting days. Juhoon quietly noticing the smallest details everyone else overlooked.
They argued constantly, they stole each other's clothes, they complained, they bickered over food, they teased one another without mercy. Yet the instant one person was hurting, every joke disappeared, every complaint became insignificant, every ounce of their attention shifted toward protecting the person who needed it.
You slowly looked around the room.
James sat cross-legged on the floor, rereading the medication instructions for what had to be the third—or perhaps fourth—time, muttering quietly under his breath to ensure he hadn't overlooked anything.
Juhoon sat at the small dining table, carefully peeling an orange into perfectly even slices. He remembered that fruit was one of the few things you could usually manage when you were sick, and without mentioning it aloud, he arranged the pieces neatly onto a plate.
Martin remained by the window, sending message after message to the company's staff, reorganizing tomorrow's schedule so you could rest without worrying about upcoming commitments.
Keonho, despite insisting he wasn't doing anything, absentmindedly reached over every few minutes whenever one of the blankets slipped from your shoulder, quietly pulling it back into place before pretending he hadn't noticed.
Beside you, Seonghyeon hummed softly beneath his breath, no particular song, just a gentle melody. His shoulder rested lightly against yours, close enough that the quiet contact reminded you someone was there. Someone wasn't going anywhere.
A smile slowly found its way onto your face. "...Thank you."
The room immediately became still. Five heads turned toward you almost simultaneously. James tilted his head. "...For what?"
You looked at each of them, then quietly answered, "For... everything."
James smiled first. "You would've done exactly the same." A pause. Then he laughed softly. "You have done exactly the same."
Martin nodded in agreement. "When I completely lost my voice before promotions..." He looked at you. "You stayed awake the entire night making ginger tea because you kept saying it might help."
Keonho immediately pointed toward himself. "When I sprained my ankle. You carried my backpack for almost two weeks, and you refused to let me carry anything heavier than a water bottle."
Juhoon spoke next, his voice as quiet as ever. "The night before debut..." He met your eyes. "I couldn't sleep. You stayed awake with me until sunrise. You didn't even try convincing me everything would magically be okay. You just..." He smiled faintly. "Sat beside me." The memory lingered between you.
Seonghyeon gently nudged your shoulder. "So..." His smile was impossibly soft. "It's our turn." The words settled somewhere deep inside your heart. Your vision blurred again, emotion tightened painfully inside your chest.
Outside the hotel, the city remained alive with celebration. Fans still filled the streets after the festival, laughing excitedly as they replayed videos from the concert and shared their favorite moments from the night.
Inside your room, the world felt entirely different. Soft lamplight bathed the room in a warm golden glow. Blankets were scattered everywhere. Empty mugs rested across the coffee table.
The conversation drifted effortlessly from ridiculous childhood stories to embarrassing rehearsal memories, from arguments over whose turn it was to order dinner tomorrow to complaints about James' habit of leaving phone chargers everywhere except where he needed them.
The hours slipped quietly by. Gradually, your eyelids grew heavier. The medicine began taking effect. Your breathing finally slowed into a steadier rhythm. Words became harder to follow. Voices blurred into something gentle and distant.
Just before sleep completely claimed you, you felt careful fingers brushing several loose strands of hair away from your forehead. Someone was checking your temperature again. The touch was impossibly gentle, as though they were afraid even the slightest movement might wake you.
A moment later, another pair of hands carefully pulled the blanket a little higher beneath your chin, making certain no cold air could reach you.
"...Sleep well." Seonghyeon's voice was barely above a whisper.
Then another voice followed, carrying the faint smile you couldn't see but somehow heard anyway. "We've got you."
Keonho, the words settled around you like another blanket.
You finally allowed yourself to rest. Tonight, you didn't have to be CORTIS's dependable youngest member. You didn't have to carry expectations, responsibilities, or anyone else's burdens. Tonight, you only had to let yourself be cared for.
💌 ❤︎ notes ─── ৻ꪆ wait guys this is not funny why did i cry for a whole two minutes while picking out the photos on the top for my banner ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ fuck
❤︎ wc ─── ৻ꪆ 2.3k
𝄞 𓏸 my cortispilledmasterlist »﹙合﹚
❝ tracklist ❞ ─── gilded lily—cults ❦ demons—alec benjamin ❦ mirrors—pvris ❦ liability—lorde ❦ scars to your beautiful—alessia cara ❦ to build a home—the cinematic orchestra ❦ fix you—coldplay ❦ fine line—harry styles ❦ matilda—harry styles ❦ exile—taylor swift ft. bon iver ❦ little freak—harry styles ❦ pluto projector—rex orange county ❦ sweet—cas ❦ turn—the wombats ❦ we’re going to be friends—the white stripes
the rehearsal studio mirrors were always too loud when the room went quiet, reflecting every sharp angle of your body and the slight, exhausted tremble in your knees, but nothing felt as loud as the notification that popped up on your phone screen. you had been leaning against the ballet barre, catching your breath while the choreographer adjusted the speaker volume, when you pulled your phone out of your cargo pants.
the weverse notification was right there at the top of your screen. a fan had commented on a photo of james from his recent weverse update, ‘his face card never declines’. a standard, sweet compliment meant to stay buried in the endless scroll of idol praise. but it was james’ account handle right beneath it that made your heart drop into your stomach.
‘never thought i had one.’
the words looked so tiny on the screen, so casual, but you knew him well enough to read the staggering weight of defeat behind them. you knew about the tabs he’d been opening late at night when he thought juhoon and you were asleep in your shared room, the way his thumb would relentlessly scroll through search results for ‘cortis visual hole’ and the brutal forums where strangers dissected his features with clinical cruelty.
“hey,” you said, your voice cutting through the heavy studio air as you looked over at the choreographer, already grabbing your gym bag from the floor. “i have to go. something came up at the dorm. i’ll be here two hours early tomorrow to make up for the rest of this run-through, i promise. i’m so sorry!—”you didn’t even wait for a proper response, just throwing a polite, rushed bow before slipping out the heavy acoustic doors, your sneakers squeaking against the hallway floor.
the taxi ride back was a blur of neon city lights and the sharp ache of anxiety building in your chest. you kept staring out the window, chewing on the inside of your cheek, thinking about how unfair it was that the oldest member of cortis—the boy who held the group together with his quiet kindness and undeniable talent—was currently drowning in self-doubt all alone.
when you finally let yourself into the dorm, the silence hit you first. it wasn’t a peaceful quiet; it felt heavy, stagnant, like the air in a room that hadn’t been lived in for days. you kicked off your shoes by the door and walked down the short hallway toward your shared room, your heart hammering against your ribs.
when you pushed the door open, the sight of him made a sudden, sharp wave of sadness wash over you so intensely it felt physical. james was just sitting on the edge of his unmade mattress, his long legs drawn up slightly, his hands loosely clasped between his knees. the curtains were half-drawn, letting in only a dim, grey slice of late afternoon light that caught the dust motes dancing in the air. he wasn’t crying, he wasn’t on his phone anymore; he was just staring blankly at a spot on the hardwood floor, his shoulders hunched inward as if he were trying to occupy as little space in the universe as possible. he looked so small in his oversized black HYBE hoodie, stripped entirely of the stage presence he usually forced himself to wear like armor.
you didn’t say anything at first. you just quietly dropped your bag by the door and walked over, the floorboards giving a faint, familiar creak beneath your weight. you sat down right next to him on the mattress, the spring shifting beneath you. he didn’t look up immediately, but you saw the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his eyelashes fluttered as he swallowed hard, acknowledging your presence without having the energy to meet your eyes.
“how dare you call yourself not pretty?” your voice broke the silence, soft but laced with a fierce, protective ache that made his shoulders flinch slightly. you reached out, your fingers gently finding his chin and tilting his face toward yours, forcing him to look at you. his eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles under them looking almost like bruises in the dim light, and his lips were dry and bitten raw. “jamie, look at me. please, just look at me. you are quite literally the most beautiful human i’ve ever laid eyes on. you look like a damn angel. how could you reply to a fan like that? do you have any idea what you put me through seeing you say something so heartbreaking while i’m stuck at practice?"
he finally let out a ragged breath, his gaze wavering before he looked down at your hands, his fingers idly tracing the cuff of your sleeve. “you shouldn’t have left practice for me,” he mumbled, his voice thick and scraped raw from hours of silence. “i didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it. it just... it came out before i could think. i just got tired of pretending like i don’t see what everyone else sees. you know what the comments call me. i’m the ‘visual hole’. when we stand in a line for photo walls, i can see the cameras shifting away from me to focus on the others. i see the edit videos where they crop me out. i just look at the mirror sometimes, especially after the stylists finish with me, and i don’t see an idol. yn. i see someone who doesn’t belong in this group. i feel like i’m ruining the image of cortis just by standing there.”
“james, stop saying that, please,” you pleaded, your voice cracking as your own eyes started to fill with tears. “you’re the heart of this group. cortis doesn’t even exist without you. how can you think you’re ruining anything, baby?”
“because it’s all people talk about sometimes,” he whispered, a sharp sob breaking through his words as he finally looked into your eyes, his gaze frantic and shattered. “it’s not just the comments. it’s the way it makes me feel inside. like i’m constantly wearing a mask that doesn’t fit. every time i get on stage, i feel like a fucking fraud, yn. i see the way the light catches the other members, how effortlessly perfect they look, and then i see my own reflection in the monitor and i just want to… disappear. it’s this constant, suffocating weight in my chest that tells me i’m not enough, that i’ll never look good enough, no matter how hard i try or how much weight i lose or how much makeup they put on me. it makes me feel so small, so completely worthless, and it terrifies me that everyone else sees it too… that you can see it too.” he paused. “i look in the mirror and i hate what i see, and then i feel guilty because i’m an idol and i’m supposed to be confident, but i’m just... i’m just breaking down over a stupid screen.”
“it’s not stupid if it’s hurting you this badly,” you said softly, the tears spilling over your cheeks as you leaned in closer, wrapping your arms securely around his neck and pulling his heavy frame against your chest. your own vision blurred completely as you felt him hesitate for a fraction of a second before he completely collapsed into you, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder, his hands gripping the back of your damp practice shirt so tightly his knuckles turned white. “but those people online don’t know anything. they don’t see the real you, james. they don’t know the millions of reasons why i love you, or the little things that make you so incredibly special. please listen to me.”
“how can you even look at me like this?” he choked out, his whole body shuddering against yours as a loud, breathless cry escaped his throat. “i’m a mess. i’m sitting here crying over netizen comments while you’re working hard at the studio. i feel so pathetic.”
“you’re not pathetic,” you said fiercely, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face, your thumbs desperately wiping away the thick dampness on his cheeks. “i love you because you are the kindest, most selfless person i have ever met. i love the way your eyes crinkle up into tiny, perfect crescents when you’re genuinely laughing at something stupid, and how your nose does that little twitch whenever you’re about to sneeze. i love the way you always make sure everyone else has eaten and liked their food before you even look at your own plate, and how you stay up late to help the younger members with their dance or vocals even when you’re completely exhausted yourself. i love the quiet, gentle way you speak to me when it’s just the two of us, like i’m the only thing that matters in the entire world. i love how you love people around you. so how can you say you aren’t enough when you’re everything to me?”
“but what about the fans?” he sobbed, his eyes wide and glossy with pain, his lips trembling violently. “what about the people who buy the albums and see me and get disappointed? i want to look perfect for them. i want them to be proud to say i’m in their favorite group.”
“they are proud of you, james. the real fans love you for exactly who you are, and the ones who don’t? they don’t deserve a single second of your thoughts,” you pressed your forehead against his, letting him feel the warmth of your breath, your voice dropping to a fierce, emotional whisper. “and physically? james, you are breathtaking. i love the soft slope of your jawline, and the way your hair falls perfectly across your forehead when you wake up in the morning. i love the tiny mole on your nose that the stylists always try to cover up with concealer, but it’s my absolute favorite thing to kiss. i love the warmth of your hands and the way your lips feel when you smile against mine. you’re not a visual hole, you’re a masterpiece, and i need you to start seeing yourself through my eyes because my eyes only see perfection when they look at you. please, tell me you hear me. tell me you believe me even just a little bit.”
“yn, i swear i want to,” he wept openly now, the walls completely broken down as he let out a raw, painful sound that made your own chest heave with fresh, violent tears. “i want to believe you so badly. it just hurts so much inside. i’m so tired of feeling like this.”
“i know, baby, i know,” you whispered into his hair, your own tears streaming down your face in earnest now, dripping onto his hair and sliding down his neck as you squeezed him as tight as your arms would allow. the room was entirely filled with the sound of your shared crying, the agonising release of all the pain he’d been harboring silently, and the desperate, fiercely protective love you kept pouring into him with every ragged breath you took. you rocked him through the violent tremors of his body, crying just as hard as he was, your hearts beating erratically against each other’s ribs in the dim, grey light. “i’ve got you. i’m right here. we’re going to get through this together, i promise you.”
when the heavy, gasping sobs finally started to slow down, leaving both of you completely spent and trembling, you pulled back just enough to look at him through your swollen, wet eyes. you used the pads of your thumbs to tenderly wipe away the remaining tears, your hands shaking slightly from the emotional toll. his nose was bright red, his eyes puffy and glassy, but to you, he had never looked more precious, more real, or more stunningly beautiful.
“look at me, jamie,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his cheek as you kissed a lingering tear away. “are you still in there? still listening to my voice?”
“yeah,” he whispered, his breath hitching as he tried to stabilise his breathing. “i’m listening.”
“good,” you said softly, leaning forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead, then to the bridge of his nose, and finally against his lips—a slow, reassuring pressure that tasted heavily of salt and shared sorrow, but carried all the quiet, unbreakable devotion you couldn’t put into words. “let’slie down. no more phones, no more comments. just us.”
“okay,” he whispered against your wet lips. you pulled gently at his waist until he complied, letting himself be guided backward onto the tangled sheets. you curled yourself directly into his side, throwing one leg over his thighs and resting your head squarely on his chest, listening to the steady, gradually calming rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his arm wound tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth, his fingers still twitching with the residual adrenaline of his tears.
“thank you,” he whispered into the quiet of the bedroom, his voice still incredibly small and raspy from crying, but the sharp, suffocating tension in his frame had finally begun to melt away, leaving him soft, vulnerable, and safe in your arms. “i don’t deserve you. i really don’t.”
“you deserve the whole world,” you corrected him quietly, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of his fabric softener and skin as you gripped his hoodie tightly. “and i’m going to spend every single day reminding you until you finally believe it.”
💌 ❤︎ notes ─── ৻ꪆ i didn’t wanna take up space before the fic to yap so i moved the notes part down but what i wanted to say was.. this fic is more than just words to me. there’s been so many instances in my own life where i’ve felt like i was the ugly one of my friend group or not smart enough or not pretty enough and just.. not enough. when i first saw james in august ‘25, i don’t know what it was, but i genuinely felt like i saw pieces of me in him or vice versa. and when he was subtly making self-deprecating comments about himself (but people tried to call it ‘humility’ when it really wasn’t), i think i finally found home in him.
and ik i joke a lot about being a james stan and saying goofy stuff all the time but i wanna admit that he’s just so painfully relatable, to me. yk how that thing where people say “you choose your bias because you see yourself in them”? i think that’s exactly why he’s my bias </3 i try to never bring heavy topics ab myself onto my blog bc most of u follow me for my fics but this one fic has become an exception; im sorry ):
i also think that’s why writing this specific story was so heavy, but so necessary for me. it wasn’t just about building on a supposedly ‘small’ comment he made today; it was about pouring all those late-night thoughts, the suffocating insecurities, and the silent breakdowns into a space where they could finally be held and comforted. seeing someone you look up to battle the exact same quiet demons you do is a strange, comforting kind of ache. it reminds you that you aren’t alone, but it also makes you want to protect them from the very things that hurt you.
when i write scenes of him being held and reminded of his worth, i’m reminding myself of mine too. so i wanted to give him the gentle, unwavering love that we all deserve to receive when we feel entirely invisible.
to anyone who read this and felt a little too close to the words: i hope this fic felt like a soft place to land. thank you for letting me share a piece of my heart with you <3
ㅤㅤㅤ 𝖲𝖸𝖯. ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏⸻ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ One night, Juhoon gets accidentally locked inside a 24-hour convenience store with a night-shift worker. With no way out and hours to wait, they pass the time talking, working, and sharing ramen, turning an awkward situation into something unexpectedly intimate.
⠀⠀𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀.⠀ㅤidol!Juhoon x fem!reader
a/n.⠀ㅤHeyy, first juhoon post!! English isn't my first language so sorry for any mistake
ॱ * ۪ ❤︎ᮬႚ . * ۪ ♡゚ * ۪ ♡゚ႚ ۪ * ۪ ❤︎ᮬႚ .
I. (chapter) ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ one ͏͏ ͏: Before Sunrise
w.c. 2.7k
The city looked different after midnight.
Quieter.
Not asleep, exactly. Just... paused.
The usual rush of traffic had long faded into the occasional passing car, their headlights gliding across empty intersections before disappearing around another corner. Neon signs reflected off the damp pavement from a drizzle that had stopped hours ago, painting the streets in streaks of blue, red, and white.
Juhoon pulled the hood of his sweatshirt a little lower as he stepped out of the hotel.
He probably shouldn't have.
If his manager found out he'd wandered off alone at half past midnight, there would be another lecture waiting for him in the morning. Something about responsibility. Safety. Being recognizable.
But he couldn't sleep.
He had been lying in bed for nearly an hour, staring at the ceiling while everyone else in the room had drifted off without much effort. His body was exhausted after another day packed with rehearsals, interviews, and schedules, yet his mind refused to cooperate.
Sometimes it happened.
The louder his days became, the harder it was to appreciate the silence when it finally arrived.
Maybe a short walk would help.
Or at the very least, something to eat.
A convenience store stood just across the street from the hotel, its bright green, orange, and red sign cutting through the darkness like a small beacon.
Open 24 hours.
Perfect.
The automatic doors slid open with a familiar chime as he stepped inside.
Warm air wrapped around him almost instantly, carrying the scent of instant noodles, brewed coffee, and freshly stocked shelves.
The store was nearly empty.
An older employee stood behind the register, absentmindedly scrolling through something on her phone between customers. A few aisles over, another worker, considerably younger, was kneeling on the floor while organizing boxes of snacks onto the lower shelves.
She couldn't have been much older than eighteen.
She didn't look up.
Neither did he.
Juhoon wandered through the aisles at his own pace, grabbing a bottle of water first.
Then a canned coffee.
A bag of chips.
After hesitating for a few seconds in front of the instant noodles, he grabbed one of those too.
Healthy enough, he thought sarcastically.
By the time he reached the register, the older employee finally put her phone away and scanned everything with practiced speed.
"You can finish stocking the back shelves," she called toward the younger girl while placing the last item into a plastic bag. "I'll close up."
The girl didn't even look over.
"Okay."
Just one word.
Flat.
Tired.
Juhoon paid, thanked the cashier with a polite nod, then froze halfway to the exit.
Right.
The bathroom.
Might as well go before walking back to the hotel.
He set the bag down beside the sink a few minutes later, splashed some cold water across his face, and stared at his reflection for a second longer than necessary.
"...Maybe now I'll actually sleep."
Satisfied enough, he picked up the bag and pushed open the restroom door.
The convenience store was strangely quiet.
Quieter than before.
He frowned.
"...Hello?"
No answer.
Taking a few more steps, he headed toward the entrance and reached for the handle.
It didn't budge.
His brows knit together.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Only then did he lift his gaze.
The metal security shutter had already been pulled all the way down, sealing the entrance shut.
For a few seconds, he simply stared.
"...You're kidding."
He gave the door another push, harder this time.
Nothing.
His heart skipped just enough to make him reach for his pocket.
His phone.
Two percent.
Come on...
He quickly opened Cortis' group chat.
Juhoon: Guys, I think I'm locked inside a convenien—
The screen went black.
"...No, no, no."
He pressed the power button.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
A long sigh escaped him as he lowered the now useless phone.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
He was trapped inside a convenience store at nearly one in the morning, his phone was dead, and no one had any idea where he was.
For the first time that night, panic began to creep in.
Then a voice echoed from somewhere behind one of the aisles.
"If you're thinking about breaking the door..."
It was calm.
Almost bored.
"...it doesn't work."
Juhoon spun around.
The girl from earlier stepped into view, leaning casually against a stack of cardboard boxes with her arms crossed.
She looked at the locked entrance.
Then back at him.
"I already tried."
Juhoon blinked.
"...Wait."
His gaze shifted from the employee vest she was wearing to the locked shutter.
"You work here."
"Unfortunately."
"And... you're locked in too?"
"Last time I checked."
"There has to be another exit."
"There is."
Relief flashed across his face.
"...It's locked."
His shoulders dropped again.
"The back door only opens from the outside after closing," she explained. "Manager's policy."
"The keys?"
"My coworker took them."
"..."
"She also took whatever common sense she had left."
Juhoon let out an involuntary laugh.
Y/N glanced at him.
"Glad someone finds this entertaining."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. If I don't joke about it, I'll probably cry."
"...Fair."
He looked around the store once more, hoping he'd somehow missed something.
"What about calling your coworker?"
"I'd love to."
She spread her hands dramatically.
"Minor issue."
"...Which is?"
"I don't have her number memorized."
"You don't have your phone?"
She looked at him for a long second.
Then, completely deadpan, she asked,
"Do I look like someone who owns one?"
Juhoon frowned.
"...Maybe?"
She sighed through her nose.
"Do you seriously think if I had a phone, I'd be working the night shift at a convenience store at eighteen?"
"..."
"I would've called someone twenty minutes ago."
That shut him up.
"...Right."
"Exactly."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"And the store phone?"
"The phone is locked in the register cabinet."
"..."
"And guess who has the key."
"...Your coworker."
"Bingo."
Silence settled between them.
Juhoon stared at the shutter as if glaring hard enough would make it open.
Y/N tilted her head.
"You know..."
"What?"
"You're taking this surprisingly well."
"I'm pretty sure I'm not."
"You haven't tried throwing yourself against the door yet."
"...Should I?"
"I did."
"...Really?"
"No."
She paused.
"...But I would."
Juhoon blinked before laughing despite himself.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The laugh."
"What laugh?"
"The one people do when they realize they're completely screwed."
He shook his head, still smiling.
"You do this a lot?"
"What?"
"Make jokes while everything's falling apart." She shrugged.
"It saves time."
"Compared to?"
"Crying."
The silence returned.
Not awkward.
Just... there.
The steady hum of the refrigerators filled the store, accompanied by the occasional buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead.
Y/N let out a slow breath, glancing around the brightly lit aisles before rubbing the back of her neck.
"...Well."
Juhoon looked up from his lifeless phone.
"Well?"
She gestured vaguely around them.
"We've got about four hours to kill."
His shoulders slumped.
"...I was trying really hard not to think about that."
"I noticed."
Pushing herself off the stack of boxes, she walked behind the counter as if this were any other shift. After crouching for a moment, she pulled out a small plastic shopping basket and set it on top of the register with a soft thud.
"Might as well make ourselves useful."
Juhoon frowned.
"...Useful?"
Without answering immediately, she reached over to the instant noodle display beside her, grabbed two cups of ramen and casually tossed them into the basket.
"If I'm getting trapped in a convenience store," she said, grabbing another item, "I might as well get paid for the overtime."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"You still care about stocking shelves?"
"I absolutely don't."
She picked up a box of chocolate bars and balanced it against her hip before looking at the half-empty display.
"But if my manager walks in at five and finds this place looking like a tornado hit it..."
She glanced sideways at him.
"...Somehow it'll become my fault."
Juhoon's brows pulled together.
"...That's unfair."
Y/N stared at him for a second.
Then she gave a single nod.
"Congratulations."
He blinked.
"...For what?"
"You've just discovered minimum wage."
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
"...You're brutal."
"I'm employed."
She walked over, placed the basket against his chest and waited until he instinctively grabbed it.
"There."
He looked down at it.
"...What's this?"
"Your first assignment."
"I don't remember applying."
"You didn't."
He looked back up at her with the same puzzled expression.
"I'd like to resign."
She didn't miss a beat.
"Denied."
"...Immediately?"
"We're understaffed."
He sighed dramatically, adjusting the basket in his hands.
"Do I at least get an employee discount?"
She started walking toward the snack aisle.
"You get the privilege of not dying of boredom."
Juhoon followed a couple of steps behind, shaking his head.
"...That somehow sounds worse."
"It is."
For the first time since they'd met, the corner of her mouth twitched upward.
Barely noticeable.
But enough for him to catch it.
"Come on," she said, already reaching for another unopened box.
"Those chips aren't going to stock themselves."
Juhoon looked down at the basket in his hands before letting out a long sigh.
"...I can't believe I'm actually doing this."
"You've accepted your fate surprisingly fast."
"I don't think I have."
"You followed me."
"I figured arguing would somehow create even more work for me."
"It would've."
She pointed toward the shelves lined with instant noodles.
"Start there."
He stopped in front of the display, staring at the colorful cups stacked in uneven rows.
"...I've never stocked shelves before."
"I can tell."
"...Was it that obvious?"
"You picked them up backwards."
Juhoon glanced down at the ramen cup in his hand.
"...There's a right way to stock ramen?"
"There is if you don't want customers thinking spicy seafood magically turns into chicken."
"...That feels like their problem."
"It's mine when they complain."
"...Fair enough."
He turned the cup around with exaggerated care before placing it back on the shelf.
"Better?"
Y/N took one look.
"...Still crooked."
He stared at it.
"...You're kidding."
"I'm not."
He leaned closer, squinting at the shelf as if inspecting a priceless painting.
"...I genuinely can't tell."
"I know."
She reached past him without hesitation, nudging the cup less than an inch to the left.
"There."
Juhoon looked from the ramen to her.
"...You moved it like..."
He pinched his fingers together.
"...this much."
"Exactly."
"...You're insane."
"No."
She grabbed another box from the floor.
"I just work retail."
"...I think that's worse."
A snort escaped her before she could stop it.
She covered it with a cough almost immediately.
Juhoon noticed.
"...Was that a laugh?"
"It was allergies."
"Inside?"
"I'm allergic to incompetence."
"...Wow."
"I know."
He couldn't help smiling again.
For someone who claimed she joked to avoid crying.
She was actually pretty funny.
By the time they finished the snack aisle, the basket was nearly empty.
Juhoon stretched his arms above his head, his back giving a quiet pop.
"I think I've officially worked harder here than at any part-time job I've ever had."
Y/N glanced at him while flattening an empty cardboard box.
"You've had part-time jobs?"
"A couple."
"What?"
He shrugged.
"The usual."
"...That tells me absolutely nothing."
He thought for a second.
"A café once."
"You?"
"I lasted three weeks."
She looked genuinely surprised.
"You quit?"
"They fired me."
"...Seriously?"
"I kept giving people the wrong drinks."
A laugh escaped him.
"You don't look like someone who'd be bad at that."
"I wasn't."
She folded another box with unnecessary force.
"I was just sleep deprived."
"...That sounds more believable."
"It should."
She tossed the flattened box onto a pile near the storage door before dusting her hands together.
"Come on."
"Where now?"
"The important part."
She walked toward the instant food section without waiting to see if he followed.
"The important part?"
"Dinner."
Juhoon looked at the wall clock hanging above the register.
"It's one in the morning."
"So?"
"So... isn't it a little late for dinner?"
She stopped in front of the ramen display and looked at him as though he'd said something deeply offensive.
"...You came to a convenience store at midnight to buy ramen."
"..."
"...And you're judging my schedule?"
"...You have a point."
"I usually do."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Also, I don't exactly have enough money for anything fancier."
Y/N blinked, then let out a short laugh.
"Then you should've said that first."
"Would it have changed your answer?"
"No."
"Exactly."
She crouched down, opening one of the cabinet doors beneath the hot water dispenser.
"Pick one."
He scanned the colorful rows of instant noodles.
"There are way too many choices."
"Wrong."
She grabbed a black cup without hesitation.
"There are exactly two."
"...Two?"
She held up the cup.
"This."
Then she pointed at another.
"And disappointment."
Juhoon chuckled.
"You're weird."
"I work retail."
"I don't think that's an explanation anymore."
"It explains everything."
He crouched beside her, studying the shelves.
"So..."
He picked up one of the cups.
"Which one's actually good?"
Y/N glanced at it for less than a second.
"Put it back."
"...That bad?"
"I wouldn't feed that to my worst enemy."
"...Harsh."
"I'm saving your life."
He slowly returned it to the shelf.
"...Thanks, I guess."
"You're welcome."
She grabbed another cup and handed it to him.
"There."
He examined the packaging.
"You trust this one?"
"I've eaten it at least..." She paused to think.
"...Forty times."
Juhoon raised an eyebrow.
"...Forty?"
"Perks of employee discounts."
"That sounds less like a perk."
"It isn't."
For a brief second, they simply looked at each other.
Then, somehow...
They both laughed.
Not because anything particularly funny had happened.
It just came naturally.
Y/N stood up, brushing the dust from her jeans before walking over to the hot water dispenser.
"You know," she said, peeling back the lid of her ramen cup, "this is technically against store policy."
Juhoon followed her, doing the same with his own.
"...We're already locked inside."
"I know."
She shrugged.
"I just wanted you to understand we're committing multiple crimes tonight."
"...Eating instant ramen is a crime now?"
"No."
She poured hot water into her cup.
"Employee theft."
Juhoon froze.
"...What?"
She looked at him with a perfectly straight face.
"We're stealing these."
His eyes widened.
"I was going to pay."
"I know."
"..."
"I just wanted to see your face."
He stared at her for another second before letting out a breathy laugh.
"...You're actually evil."
"I prefer 'creative.'"
"You definitely enjoy stressing people out."
"Only strangers."
"And friends?"
"I annoy them for free."
He laughed again.
She noticed.
"You laugh a lot."
"I do not."
"You've laughed at least..." She pretended to count on her fingers.
"...Seven times."
"I have not."
"Eight."
"You're making those numbers up."
"Probably."
She carried both ramen cups over to the small seating area by the front windows.
The store looked strangely peaceful from there.
Outside, the streets were almost empty.
Only the occasional taxi rolled past, its headlights briefly washing over the metal shutter before disappearing into the night.
Y/N sat down first, pulling one leg underneath herself.
Juhoon took the chair across from her.
For a minute or two, neither of them spoke.
The only sounds were the faint buzz of the lights above them and the quiet hiss of steam escaping from the ramen cups.
"...This is weird," Juhoon admitted eventually.
Y/N rested her chin in her palm.
"The being trapped part?"
"The eating ramen with a complete stranger at one in the morning part."
She considered it.
"...Yeah."
A beat passed.
"But I've had worse Tuesdays."
Juhoon looked up.
"...It's Tuesday?"
She frowned.
"...Isn't it?"
"I don't know."
She blinked once.
"...Huh."
Another pause.
"I might actually be losing my mind."
"I think we've established that already."
She pointed at him with a pair of chopsticks.
"See?"
"There it is."
"What?"
"You're getting funnier."
She clicked her tongue.
"No."
"I'm adapting."
He smiled into his ramen before taking his first bite.
For reasons he couldn't quite explain...
It tasted better than convenience store ramen usually did.
ㅤㅤㅤ taglist. ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏⸻ @i08mars @helimura @kuinas1glazer @feen4meee @httpsbarsbymars @mailovesreading (Ask to be added)
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 seonghyeon is pathetic and everyone knows it. but, maybe a yearner is exactly what his dream girl had wanted all along 🤔 (aka seonghyeon embarrasses himself and his lil crush is oddly charmed
ᝰ.ᐟ nonidol!seonghyeon x fem!reader
ᝰ.ᐟ smau, fluff, humor, cussing
ᝰ.ᐟ FT! cortis, including cupid hb keonho, h2h ian, h2h stella as fc
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 yawnmi writes: after 6 months im Back 😳😳😳
i lowk wanna do a spinoff of this… maybe a series with all the members and keonho as their little cupid??? lmk 👀👀
been trying to map out the spinoff of this, like a part for each member but it’s lowk tough to brainstorm.. i don’t want to storyline to get repetitive but trust cupid keonho will continue to work his magic; currently storyboarding for martins part
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summary. martin only has two days off, and he invites you to spend the weekend with him and his teammates
genre. fluff, established relationship, cheesy, clingy bf martin agenda
warning. cursing
wc. 1852
it's saturday and thank god your boyfriend has two days off so you can spend those days together. but martin has another plan. he decides to bring you on a vacation with his teammates to their private villa.
"i feel like i don't belong there." you're standing beside him while he's packing his things into a suitcase. he stops what he's been doing for almost 30 minutes and looks up at you. "what do you mean?"
"i feel like this is supposed to be your vacation, not mine. you should be spending it alone with your friends." you sit down next to him, letting your head falls onto his shoulder.
martin laughs. "no, baby," he tucks your hair behind your ear. "my vacation is yours too. you don't need to worry. i would be super happy if you come."
"what if they think i'm intruding?"
"they literally asked me if you were coming with us." martin smiles at you.
"really?" you smile brightly at him and he replies with a nod and hugs you tight.
at 6 p.m., you and martin get in the car first. and then, followed by james, seonghyeon, juhoon, and last but not least keonho. the car leaves at 7 and arrives at the villa around 8 p.m. everyone starts to unpack their things once they get their own rooms. keonho, seonghyeon, and martin are roommates, and so are james and juhoon. while you... you get a room to yourself.
"i sleep alone tonight." you mumble.
"oh no, are you scared? cause this handsome boyfriend of yours is so ready to accompany you!" martin hugs you from the back.
"stop being cringe." you roll your eyes and laugh.
all of you are enjoying dinner together. even though you're not really familiar with their topics, they never leave you feeling left behind and always ask about your opinions. that's what you love about them.
after finishing dinner, you walk around the villa to take pictures while the others are preparing the desserts. when the desserts are ready, keonho calls you and you immediately jog back to the villa. "guys, look over here! say cheese!" you position your digital camera to take their picture multiple times.
"can you stop it?" martin pouts because you still take pictures here and there. "wait, i don't wanna forget this moment. look up here." you stand next to him—ready to take his picture.
"now smile." you order and he immediately curls his lips upward at the camera. "no, not like that."
he smiles widely until his eyes disappear. "you look possessed."
"i think he always looks like that." seonghyeon adds—making the whole room laugh.
martin glares at seonghyeon and you. you click your camera and catch the perfect moment when martin looks upset in the photo. "aw, you look so cute." you kiss his cheek as an apology before sitting next to him and starting to eat.
desserts time is over and one game of uno starts. everybody enjoys the game. the loser has to wash all of the dishes in the kitchen. this time, it's seonghyeon's turn to lose. seonghyeon grumbles but still decides to do it anyway.
laughter fills the villa that night and none of you realize how quickly time passes. as the night gets later, you excuse yourself and decide to go to your bedroom. you lay on your bed while scrolling down on your phone. until there's someone texting you:
martini:
are you sleeping, my princess?
you:
yes
martini:
can i come in??? i miss you sm :(
you:
the door's not locked
martini:
omw!!
a few seconds later, you hear someone's knocking. and martin's head pops out behind the door, "hello beautiful." he blows a kiss to you before stepping in. "why are you so cringe today?" you squint your eyes.
he immediately lies next to you and wraps his hands around your waist—legs cuddling your feet, seeking for warmth. "i love doing cringy things with you."
you chuckle and continue to scroll on your phone.
"who are you texting?" he suddenly asks.
"no one." your eyes are still glued to your phone.
"is there something urgent you need to do with your phone right now?"
"no, why?" you finally look at him and immediately realize why he's asking those questions by the way his lips curve down.
"then why are you ignoring me? i came from my room to be here with you and you're already replacing me with your phone?"
"oh, here we go again." you throw your phone under the pillows and gaze at him for a few moments. "why's my baby so upset today?" you stroke his blonde hair.
"i miss you."
"but i'm here, baby."
"but it seems like you're not paying attention to me. you took pictures here and there, talked to my teammates, but you didn't have time to look at me even just for 5 minutes."
". .did i?"
"yes."
"oh, i'm sorry, baby. i didn't know my baby needed my attention so bad today." you hug him in your arms and caress his hair slowly.
"hahaha, funny." he answers sarcastically, though he doesn't refuse your hug and welcome you back in his arms.
there's this long silence between you and him. "i really mean it though." your voice comes a little hoarse.
"what?" he frowns at you.
"i'm sorry for not paying enough attention to you today," you smile at him. "now i'm here and you're gonna get all the attention you need." you peck his lips.
"okay." he grins at you and starts to close his eyes, being around you always makes him feel safe and relaxed.
"are you not going back to your room?"
"what?" he immediately opens his eyes—the sleepiness goes right away after hearing your question. "are you trying to kick me out right now?"
"no."
"then?"
"i don't wanna let you go tonight."
"oh, shit." his cheeks turn red and he looks away from you, feeling shy and also embarrassed for the negative thoughts.
"there's no way i'm letting this handsome man leave my room tonight."
"you're creepy."
"i definitely can't do this shit with you." you both laugh before cuddling each other into sleep.
the next day, keonho and seonghyeon look out for martin everywhere. "hyung, did you see martin hyung?" they ask james and juhoon who just came out from their room. james and juhoon look at each other before shaking their heads.
"last night he told me he wanted to go to the bathroom and he never comes back." seonghyeon speaks up. all of them stay silent for a while.
"i know." keonho smirks and goes to your room—james, seonghyeon and juhoon follow him from the back. "he must be in here. we're gonna open the door and surprise them, okay? 1, 2—"
before keonho finishes the countdown, the bedroom door opens by you. "what are you guys doing?" you raise your eyebrows at them.
"we thought—"
"yo, what are you guys doing in front of my girl's room?" martin cuts keonho and they turn back to find his tall figure's brushing his teeth while frowning at them.
"we thought you slept outside last night." seonghyeon grins and they finally go back to their routines. you and martin look at each other and giggle. martin knows his teammates would look for him after he's gone last night so he sneaked back into his room early in the morning. he smooched your face before going while you're still half asleep.
"did you have your breakfast?" you walk toward him.
"not yet." martin's still brushing his teeth.
"i'm gonna make breakfast for you. finish your brushing first." you kiss his cheek and rush to the kitchen.
the sun shines brightly, radiating the warmth of summer you've always missed. after having breakfast, keonho suggests taking a walk outside the villa. you and martin walk together in the back, while his teammates are already way ahead of the two of you. "did you have a good time here?" martin observes your expression as he intertwines his fingers with yours.
"absolutely." you smile at him.
"ayo, lovebirds! can you walk faster?" keonho yells and the two of you immediately realize you've been left behind.
"coming!" martin yells back. "let's go!" he holds your hand tight and run together with you.
time passes and after losing a vote on what movie to watch, everyone ended up binge-watching Juhoon's favorite movies—which are the Before trilogy. "these movies make me feel single as fuck." seonghyeon groans.
the sixth of you decide to go home at 9 p.m., since martin and his teammates need to practice at the studio the next morning. you pack your things 1 hour before and help martin pack his suitcase as well.
"it feels like a family vacation," martin suddenly speaks.
you fold his clothes and put them in his suitcase. "yeah? why's that?"
"i had that feeling, you know." you hum at his words, trying to understand. "feels like james hyung, juhoon, hyeon, and keonho are the kids. i'm the dad, and you're the mom." he points at himself and you when he said dad and mom.
"i should've known where this topic's going."
"why? you don't wanna have a family with me?"
"dude, you're too young to talk about this." you zip his suitcase and glance at him.
"don't call me dude," he pouts at you. "you're clearly not in love with me anymore."
"the hell you're talking about, dude." you nudge him with your elbow and stand—trying to go back to your room. "no, no, no." he holds your wrist.
"i'm not gon' let you go if you're still calling me dude."
"okay, martin. i wanna bring my suitcase outside of the room so we won't be late."
"who the fuck is martin?"
"you."
"babyyyy." he throws a tantrum.
"okay, babe."
"c'mon, you can do it better." martin shoots you his puppy eyes.
"honey, can i please leave now? i'll let you sit next to me on the car if you let me go."
"really?" his eyes brighten and you nod. "okay, but kiss me first." he looks up at you and pouts his lips even more—signaling you to kiss him on the lips. you kiss his cheek instead and run back to your room.
"hey, that's not fair!"
after everything settles, all of you get in the car. you sit at the back, waiting for martin. "thank god, you save this seat for me." he sits next to you and you immediately cling your arms around his.
"stop pretending we're not here, you guys!" seonghyeon yells from the front seat.
"you can stop being jealous and try to get some sleep!" martin yells back.
the rest of you laugh at martin and seonghyeon's bickering. you place your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.
"sleep well, baby." martin whispers in your ear and kisses your head.
as the car hums quietly down the road, you drift off to sleep thinking that maybe martin was right—it really did feel like a family vacation. your little family vacation.
リリのメモ - these kinds of plots are so cutee and #ineedakeonhoficoutnowonmyblog.
MENTIONS─── martin of cortis 🥂
💭 LIKE&REBLOG ───𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘
your phone buzzed for the millionth time, probably another desperate plea of despair that MARTIN was sending you. you smiled, imagining your boyfriend's elated smile as yapped on and on about how amazing you are.
KEONHO is a big loverboy. like really really big loverboy. and the second he fell in love with you, it took a lot just to get him to stop swooning and cheesing over you.
he can't stop thinking about you if he wanted to, even when you're around. and he especially can't stop talking about you the second he gets the chance to. and he won't ever stop praising you, even if it's for the smallest things.
he'll go on and on and on about how pretty you are, how cute you are, how absolutely perfect you are. and he won't ever stop talking about his favourite things about you or how you two got together. at this point, his friends are practically apart of your relationship too, but if anyone said that to him, he'd probably have an outburst.
and it would make so giggly and giddy inside whenever his friends would tell you all the stories because you just couldn't seem to believe that someone could look at you and see so many good things that you can't even list yourself.
and it's so adorable. the way he talks about you like you're heaven's incarnate. how he even smiles to himself or blushes whenever he thinks of you. you just feel this rush of happiness knowing that you're all he ever thinks about and how much he loves you.
so there you were, knocking at his friend's door, not really knowing what to expect.
"oh my, thank goodness you came. this loverboy won't shut up about for just a few minutes." MARTIN sighed with relief, running a hand through his hair as he moved aside. you chuckled, curious to find out what KEONHO possibly could've been doing now.
"what was he saying now, hm?" you asked, unable to hide the glee inside you. he scoffed, shaking his head.
"bro, this guy literally just yaps about how cute you are for over twenty minutes," he groaned, crossing his arms. he looked so done with this sappy business.
"sure it's cute at first, but now he just acts like he was hit with all of cupid's arrows, dude. you got this guy thirsting over you in an elsa swimsuit. y/n, please just take your man." you were now cackling, hitting MARTIN'S shoulder, and that basically summoned KEONHO because he dashed right through MARTIN'S room to check if it was really you.
"baby, you're here," he closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your in a tight embrace. he lifted your off the ground, showering your neck in kisses. as you gasped and giggled, MARTIN grunted in disgust, "eww" the only thing you can hear.
"oh don't listen to him, he's cranky cause his girlfriend isn't here." he said, holding you even closer. MARTIN scoffed at that—feeling too embarrassed to admit it—walking away.
he lifted up his head, staring into your beautiful eyes, and kissed your cheek.
"you're so pretty." he said, his tone so flirtatious you felt yourself melting like an ice cream, as he caressed your cheeks. if there's one thing about KEONHO, it's that he will never stop trying to find ways to make you blush and use them to his advantage.
he's like a flirtmaster 5000 and once he's turned on he cannot be turned off.
"stop." you mumbled, trying to hide your blushing face and flustered expression. KEONHO ruffled your hair, making you whine, as he chuckled.
"but you are, my pulchritudinous princess. you're the apple of my eye, okay?" he persisted, his gentle gaze roaming your delicate features like he was trying to commit them to his memory.
"ugh, i just know you've been waiting for an opportunity to call me that." you groaned, feigning annoyance as you nuzzled your head in his chest. he chuckled again—louder—and kissed the top of your head.
"oh you know me so well, baby. exactly why you're the apple of my eye."
"i hate you. you and your sap. no wonder MARTIN is sick of you." you looked up, glaring at the sly grin plastered across his face. he kissed your nose lovingly, winking at you.
"i love you too, gorgeous." he crooned, his voice coquettish. you groaned once more, nudging his arm. he held your wrist, sliding his fingers up to interlock your hands. at this point you had to surrender, giving in to your boyfriend's flirting once more.
you may act like you hate this, but the both of you know deep down that you can't live without KEONHO loving you and caring for you like this.
🩷⋆ j4eyxnfics ⊹ est '25 .ᐟ 🌴 ⋆🌼
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