ocean

  ˙ ✦ . 　⁺

yes i saw it

i don’t think the trope is done often but alright , i don’t mind it but honestly it’s the title that throws me off…

i don’t think it’s that common, and honestly i was just curious to see that post

im not rlly one to ask for writing cus i think its super awkward on my part.. buttt i was wondering if u would like to do a follow up on loopy for uu 😓😓

hiiii cutie!! omg first of all thank you so much, that means the absolute world to me!! and pleaseee don’t feel awkward at all cuz i love when people request things😭 a part 2 sounds super cute and i’m totally down!! i’ve been lowkey thinking about it too

I'm really unsure of how to put it lol.

✿‎ ‎stop teasing me! ⁠. ۫ ·‎ ‎ 주훈

pairings ⸝⸝ brothersbff‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎!juhoon ✿ f!rea ‎ ‎ ✉️‎ ‎ ‎ wc ⸝⸝ 1.1k

🗯️ check masterlist ♫ ⸝⸝ this story is fiction | only for fun purposes ᯓ

OCEAN’S ✷ NOTE : thank you sm for the request!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 i took me a while to come up w this idea bcz it was hard seeing juhoon like this 😭😭hope u guys enjoy <333

You remember how it used to be, back when things were simpler and the world did not feel so heavy. Juhoon was always around, your brother’s best friend, a few years older than you with that easy confidence that made everything seem safe.

Nights when you would sneak into his room after some stupid fight with your brother or just because the house felt too loud, you would end up curled up on his bed, exhausted from whatever bullshit the day threw at you. 

He never minded. He would pull you close without a word, his arms wrapping around you like a shield, and whisper against your hair, “I got you. I’m gonna protect you, always.” His voice was softer then, warmer. You believed him every single time. Those hugs lingered in your chest long after you woke up and pretended nothing happened.

It has been a while since you last saw him. A week, maybe more. Your brother invited him over tonight like it was no big deal, and you heard the front door open from your room, followed by their voices drifting down the hall. 

Later Juhoon came into your room without knocking, pushing the door open like he still had every right to be there. “Can I borrow your charger?” he asked, voice casual as ever.

You were buried under your covers in an oversized hoodie and tiny shorts, hair a complete mess from tossing around. You looked like shit and you knew it. “Leave,” you muttered, tucking your head deep into the pillow, yelling the word into the fabric as you kicked your legs against the bed in frustration. The mattress bounced under the repeated slaps of your legs.

He did not leave. He stepped inside anyway and closed the door behind him with a quiet click that made your stomach tighten. He got closer, the bed dipping as he sat right next to you. 

One of his hands settled on your back, warm and heavy through the thin hoodie. Your legs stopped moving instantly. You froze completely under his touch, every muscle going tense.

He laughed softly, that low sound sending vibrations through you. “It’s fine, y/n. I have seen you in a lot of states.”

His fingers started tracing slow circles on your back, gentle but deliberate, pressing just enough to make your skin burn. Your relationship with Juhoon had always been weird. You were friends but as you both grew up he became way too touchy in a way that made you really nervous standing next to him. 

Now his hand felt too familiar, too much, stirring up that old soft spot you tried so hard to ignore. You wanted to pull away but you also wanted him to continue.

Ugh. Why did he always do this to you?

You felt his hand pulling away after a moment, but then he grabbed your hand instead. “I don’t know where you keep the charger.”

You did not lift your head. “Leave,” you yelled into the pillow, voice muffled and shaky with everything you were feeling.

He grabbed harder, tugging you up, forced to face him. He was so close now, his face inches from yours, towering over you even while sitting. He studied your face, eyes moving slowly over your messy hair, your flushed cheeks, your lips. You looked down, unable to hold his gaze, then got mad at yourself for it. You pushed his hand away roughly.

“You idiot,” you snapped, pointing with your finger toward the desk where the charger sat. “There it is.”

But he did not move. His fingers came up again, touching your cheek lightly, then brushing over your lashes. You blinked hard at the contact, heart slamming in your chest.

“Juhoon, what are you doing?” you whispered, voice barely there.

“You’re pretty,” he said simply, getting closer, tilting his head to the right. His eyes locked deep into yours, dark and intense, pulling you in like gravity. The air between you felt thick, charged with all the years of tension and the way he used to hold you closer.

You panicked, not knowing what the hell was going on, heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else. You closed your eyes, waiting, breath caught in your throat. Every part of you felt alive and terrified and aching for whatever came next. You hated how badly you wanted it. How much you needed him to close that last inch.

Then you felt a light smack on your forehead. Your eyes flew open. Juhoon was pulling back slowly, getting off the bed with a grin, giggling at you like an asshole.

“You should have seen your face,” he said, still chuckling. “You were panicking so hard.”

“I hate you so much!” you shot back, face burning warm now, embarrassment flooding through you mixed with something sharper.

The disappointment sat heavy in your chest even as the tension still crackled between you, thicker than ever. He stood there by the door, charger in hand, looking at you like he knew exactly what you had been thinking, and that only made the heat in your cheeks worse. 

Your skin still tingled where he had touched you, and you hated how empty the room felt the second he started to leave.

Days passed quietly after that night. Juhoon didn’t come over immediately, but the awkwardness stayed with you. You kept thinking about how he had almost closed the distance, then pulled back with a laugh, leaving you confused and embarrassed. It was hard to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted, even if you both pretended it hadn’t.

A few evenings later, he showed up again with your brother for another casual hangout. You tried to stay in your room, but eventually went to the kitchen for a drink. Juhoon was there by himself, grabbing something from the fridge.

“Hey,” he said, smiling like usual. He stepped closer than necessary, reaching past you for a snack on the counter, his arm brushing yours. “Still mad at me?”

You felt that familiar flutter of nerves mixed with frustration. He was doing it again, getting too close, acting like everything was playful and normal when it left you feeling unsteady.

This time you didn’t brush it off. You stepped back and crossed your arms. “Why do you keep doing this, Juhoon?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Doing what?”

“This,” you said, voice quiet but firm so your brother wouldn’t overhear.

“The way you come into my room, touch my back or my face, say things like I’m pretty, then laugh and act like it’s all a joke. You pull me in and make me feel… I don’t even know. Safe and weird and confused at the same time. I’m not a little kid anymore for you to tease like that. So why? Why do you mess with me if it doesn’t mean anything?”

The words came out in a rush. You stared at him, cheeks warm, waiting for another grin or excuse.

Juhoon’s expression changed. The easy smile faded, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking more serious than you’d seen in a long time.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’ve been an idiot about it.” He leaned against the counter, eyes on the floor for a second before meeting yours again.

“Those nights when you used to come to my room… I meant it when I said I’d protect you. That part was real. But as we got older, it started feeling different for me. I care about you a lot, more than I probably should. I guess I teased you and got close because I didn’t know how to say it without messing everything up. I didn’t want to scare you or make things weird between all of us.”

Your heart beat faster. “So…?”

He shook his head. “I like you, y/n. Like, really like you. I’ve felt that way for a while now. I just handled it badly.”

The kitchen felt quiet except for the distant sound of the game from the living room. 

You let out a shaky breath, some of the heavy confusion lifting.

“I like you too,” you admitted softly, looking down at your hands. “I’ve felt the same for a long time. That’s why it hurt when you’d pull away and laugh.”

Juhoon stepped closer, but kept a respectful distance this time. He reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder, the touch comforting.

“I won’t mess with your head anymore,” he said. “We can figure this out slowly. No pressure. Just… be honest.”

You nodded, a small smile breaking through. The tension that had built up over the days eased.

He gave your shoulder one last light squeeze before heading back toward the living room, glancing back with a softer grin. You stayed in the kitchen a moment longer, heart lighter, the years of quiet feelings finally out in the open.

you’re so cute… and your writing is beautiful please keep it coming

okie byebye

ᯓ★ LOOPY FOR YOU .ᐟ .ᐟ

☆.ㅤ  𝐒𝐘𝐍.ㅤ ㅤ──ㅤㅤ    your crush turns into the world’s most affectionate, clingy goof after getting his wisdom teeth out.

ᯓ   ࣪   ˖    ִ  ★   pairing    ──    ahn keonho ,   f  reader. 

a/n: thank you sm for the request!!! i kept it at just a crush between them🥹🥹 hope you guys enjoy <33 masterlist⋆˚꩜｡

— kisses ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

You sit in the waiting room of the oral surgeon’s office, knees bouncing under the chair as you clutch your phone. Keonho’s mom had texted you earlier asking if you could help watch him after the wisdom teeth removal since she had to run to work. 

You said yes without thinking twice, even though the two of you are usually that awkward pair who can barely hold eye contact for more than three seconds. He is your friend, sort of, the guy who makes your stomach flip every time he laughs at your dumb jokes in class. 

But today you are here, officially on nurse duty.

When they finally wheel him out, Keonho looks like a total mess. His cheeks are puffed up like a chipmunk, gauze peeking from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes are glassy from the anesthesia. The nurse hands you a bag of pain meds and instructions, then gives you a sympathetic smile. “He might be a little out of it for the next few hours. Lots of love and rest.”

You help him into the passenger seat of the uber, heart hammering. Keonho turns to you immediately, his head lolling against the headrest. “Yoooou,” he mumbles around the gauze, voice all thick and dreamy. “You’re here. Omg, you’re so pretty. Why are you always so pretty?”

Your face burns hot. Normally he’d never say something like that. He’d just blush and look away if you caught him staring. But anesthesia Keonho has zero filter. He reaches over with clumsy fingers and pokes your arm. “Soft. You’re staying with me, right?”

“Shut up, you goof,” you say, laughing as you gently push his hand back. He pouts, which looks ridiculous with his swollen face, but it makes your chest feel warm and fluttery.

At his house you get him settled on the couch with pillows piled around him like a nest. He keeps trying to stand up every five minutes, claiming he needs to “go find the good snacks” or “show you my sick dance moves.” Each time you push him back down, he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer.

“Don’t leave,” he whines. His grip is surprisingly strong for someone half out of his mind.

“You smell nice. Like… flowers and girl. Stay right here. Please?”

You end up sitting on the edge of the couch while he drapes an arm around your waist, face smooshed against your side. “Keonho, you’re drooling on my shirt,” you tease, but you don’t pull away, even though this clingy version of him is dangerous for your heart.

He lifts his head, eyes wide and earnest. “Sorry. I love your shirt. I love everything. Especially you. We’ve been so shy and stupid, right? Like, I like you so much but I always freeze up. Not anymore. Anesthesia is the best. I wanna kiss your face.”

You snort, gently wiping his chin with a tissue. “You’re high as hell. Save the kisses for when you’re not leaking blood from your mouth, Romeo.”

He giggles, actually giggles, and nuzzles closer. “Blood kisses? Gross. But I’d do it. For you.” Then he starts humming some off-key tune from the new album you both pretended not to obsess over in group chat. His fingers trace lazy circles on your arm, sending little sparks everywhere.

Later you try to get him to eat some applesauce. He refuses unless you “airplane” it, opening his mouth wide like a baby bird and making exaggerated noises. 

Half of it ends up on his shirt. “You suck at this,” he declares happily.

“But I still like you more than anyone. Even my dog. Don’t tell him.”

“Keonho, shut up,” you say, biting back a huge smile. Your cheeks hurt from grinning so much. You wipe his chin again, and he catches your hand, pressing a clumsy gauze-filled kiss to your knuckles.

“Mean it,” he mumbles, suddenly serious. “When this shit wears off… don’t let me go back to being shy. I wanna hold your hand at school and shit. Be my girlfriend? Pretty please with gauze on top?”

You freeze. Even loopy, he looks at you like you hung the stars. “Yeah,” you whisper, brushing his messy hair back. 

“If you remember this tomorrow, then yeah. Deal.”

He cheers weakly and tugs you down so your head rests on his shoulder. 

For the next hour he alternates between telling terrible jokes “Why did the tooth go to school? To get a little wisdom, duh.” and whispering sweet nonsense about how soft your hair is and how he wants to take you to the arcade once his face stops looking like a balloon.

You stay curled up with him until the meds start to fade and his clinginess turns into sleepy cuddles. His arm stays locked around you the whole time, like he is scared you will disappear. And for once, you are not shy either. You just hold him back, laughing quietly at his silly moments and feeling the cute warmth of something real starting between you.

When his mom finally gets home, Keonho is half-asleep but still mumbling your name. You kiss his forehead before you leave, cheeks burning again.

Tomorrow is going to be interesting.

☆.ㅤ  𝐒𝐘𝐍.ㅤ ㅤ──ㅤㅤ    you receive a soundclound link from an unknown number in the middle of the night.

ᯓ   ࣪   ˖    ִ  ★   pairing    ──    edwards martin ,   f  reader.    

a/n: hi guysss! finally finished this smau!! also posted on tt as lettersbyocean <33 this is the first part ! masterlist⋆˚꩜｡

— kisses ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

☆.ㅤ  𝐒𝐘𝐍.ㅤ ㅤ──ㅤㅤ  pretending to be mad at james becomes impossible when he already knows you to well

ᯓ   ࣪   ˖    ִ  ★   pairing    ──    zhao yufan ,   f  reader.    

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ contains : playful arguing / fake argument , teasing , small bickering , light tension

wc: 1,2k masterlist⋆˚꩜｡ — kisses ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

The whole thing starts because James refuses to stop talking.

You are sitting comfortably across his bed with one of his hoodies swallowed around your frame, legs tucked beneath you while the evening settles quietly outside his room.

The rain had started earlier and now soft tapping sounds press against the window while music hums somewhere from his speaker, low enough to blend into the room without demanding attention.

James is stretched lazily against the pillows with his phone balanced in one hand, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who has spent the last fifteen minutes bothering you.

“You know,” he says without looking up, “I’m starting to think you only date me for my clothes.”

You glance down at the oversized sleeves covering your hands and shrug.

“That’s not true.”

He finally lifts his eyes.

“Oh?”

“I also date you because you buy me food.”

That earns a quiet laugh.

“Wow.” He presses a hand dramatically over his chest. “Good to know my personality never made the list.”

“You have one?”

James lowers his phone slowly.

And immediately, you know that expression.

The one that means he is about to become unbearable.

“That’s interesting,” he says, sitting up a little. “Because I was just thinking the exact same thing about you.”

You smile innocently and continue scrolling on your own phone.

Unfortunately, he takes your silence as encouragement.

“You’ve been stealing my hoodie all day, insulting me for free, and now suddenly I’m the problem.”

“You are the problem.”

“That hurts.”

“You’ll survive.”

He narrows his eyes, clearly entertained rather than offended.

The thing about James is that he enjoys these little arguments far too much. Half the time they are not even disagreements anymore, just excuses to keep your attention focused on him.

And honestly, you encourage it more than you admit.

Still, tonight you suddenly feel like pushing it further.

So you lock your phone, look up at him, and sigh dramatically.

“You know what?” you say. “I think I’m upset with you.”

James does not even blink.

“No you’re not.”

You stare at him.

“That was quick.”

“Because I know you.”

You fold your arms.

“Well maybe you don’t.”

His mouth twitches.

“That sounds so fake already.”

You try keeping your expression serious.

“I’m being serious.”

“Mhm.”

“I am.”

“No.” He sets his phone aside completely and leans back against the headboard, looking entirely too relaxed. “You’re entertaining yourself.”

You narrow your eyes.

“You think this is funny?”

“Actually I think you’re funny.”

That annoyingly calm smile stays on his face while you sit there trying not to laugh.

Which only irritates you more.

“Maybe I should stop talking to you.”

James tilts his head.

“For how long?”

You hesitate.

“A while.”

“That’s not really specific.”

“Oh my god.”

He looks at you carefully for another second before shaking his head.

“You don’t even sound mad enough.”

You grab the nearest pillow and throw it at him.

He catches it immediately.

“There,” you say. “Better?”

He considers it.

“Still not convinced.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute when you’re pretending.”

That makes you sit up straighter.

“I’m not pretending.”

James looks genuinely thoughtful for a second.

Then, with complete confidence, he says, “Okay. Leave then.”

You blink.

“What?”

“If you’re really mad.”

He gestures toward the door casually.

The confidence in his voice bothers you more than it should.

So naturally, you decide to commit.

“Fine.”

You push yourself off the bed and start walking toward the door.

Behind you, James stays suspiciously quiet.

For approximately three seconds.

Then you hear movement.

Followed by footsteps.

You do not need to look back to know he is following you.

“You walk so fast,” he comments.

You ignore him.

“That’s kinda impressive actually.”

Still nothing.

You reach the hallway while he trails after you with absolutely no shame.

“Babe.”

Silence.

“You know I hate you ignoring me, right?”

You continue walking toward the kitchen with your arms crossed while he follows at an annoyingly relaxed pace.

You open the fridge despite not wanting anything at all, mostly because you need somewhere to stand.

James leans against the doorway.

“Babe, come on.”

“I’m upset.”

“No,” he says calmly. “You’re just really bored.”

You close the fridge harder than necessary.

“You don’t take anything seriously.”

“That’s not true.”

“You literally don’t believe me because you don’t love me anymore.”

He studies you for a second.

Then his eyes drop toward the hoodie.

“Alright then, take off my clothes.”

You look down.

“Shut up!”

You push past him and head toward the living room instead.

Again, he follows.

And somehow that annoys you while also making you smile.

“You know what your issue is?” you ask.

He looks delighted immediately.

“Oh this sounds promising.”

“You always think you’re right.”

“That’s because I usually am.”

“That is genuinely insufferable.”

“And yet,” he says while falling into step beside you, “you’re still here.”

You drop onto the couch dramatically.

He sits beside you.

Too close.

You move away.

He moves too.

You glare.

He smiles.

“You’re irritating.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“But I mean it more now.”

You try scooting away again but his knee bumps yours before you get far.

“You know,” he says softly, “if you were actually mad, you’d be quieter.”

That makes you pause.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You talk more when you’re fake mad.”

Your jaw drops.

“You study me now?”

“I pay attention.”

For some reason, that answer throws you off more than you expect.

Before you can respond, his fingers poke lightly at your side.

You immediately grab his wrist.

“James.”

“There she is.”

“Stop.”

“You smiled.”

“I did not!” 

You let go of his wrist and look away dramatically.

For once, he quiets.

The teasing fades into something softer while the rain continues tapping against the windows.

Then you feel him looking at you again.

“You done?” he asks quietly.

You keep staring ahead.

“No.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m still upset.”

He nods thoughtfully.

“That’s terrible.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“A little.”

You try staying serious.

You really do.

But then his shoulder nudges yours.

And again.

And once more until you finally crack.

A laugh slips out before you can stop it.

James looks victorious immediately.

“Oh wow,” he says softly. “Look at that.”

You cover your face with your sleeve.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

He smiles.

“That’s a lot coming from someone who kept kissing me last night.”

You groan quietly and lean back against the couch.

The worst part is that he looks so pleased. 

Then his hand reaches toward yours and somehow you already know where this is going.

His fingers slide gently through yours before you can pull away, warm and familiar.

The room feels quieter suddenly.

The teasing still lingers between you, but softer now.

He squeezes your hand once.

Then looks over.

“You know,” he says, voice lower than before, “for somebody trying to leave me five minutes ago…”

You look at him.

“You’re holding my hand pretty hard.”

Your face warms instantly.

You try pulling away but he does not let go.

And unfortunately, his smile only softens.

“You’re awful,” you mumble.

James leans back against the couch, still holding your hand between both of his like he won something.

“Sure,” he says quietly. “But you were never actually leaving.” 

HELPPPP😭😭😭ILYYY but only might ???? damn 🤨🤨🤨

❪ masterlist ❫ ｡ more works can be found on my tiktok .✦ ݁˖

MARTIN EDWARDS (박우주)

01. snowy weather

AHN KEONHO (안건호)

01. pink lipgloss

02. loopy for you

EOM SEONGHYEON (엄성현)

01. first drink

JAMES (조우범)

01. pretending to be mad

JUHOON KIM (김주훈)

01. we’re gonna suffocate

જ⁀➴ guidelines

01. i only write for fem!reader

02. what i write : scenarios, along with oneshots, headcanons, smau’s, au’s & series

03. right now i write for : cortis ✶⋆.˚

04. genres : mostly fluff

05. i don’t write smut, mafia trope, love triangle , etc (just personal preference)

06. if you’re a bully or spread hate — please dni

07. feel free to send your ideas through my asks. if i’m uncomfortable with a request, i’ll just decline it privately

08. disclaimer : all my works are purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only

09. if i write in lowercase it’s definitely only for the aesthetics .✦ ݁˖

☆.ㅤ  𝐒𝐘𝐍.ㅤ ㅤ──ㅤㅤ    your boyfriend thinks there’s no such thing as too close.

ᯓ   ࣪   ˖    ִ  ★   pairing    ──    kim juhoon ,   f  reader.    

wc: 0,65k

a/n: hi sweethearts ♡ hoping everyone is having a beautiful day !! please remember to eat something and rest well <33, i finally managed to finish this fic 🫩 thank you so much for all the love and support, it always means the world to me. i hope you enjoy reading ₊˚⊹ ᰔ kisses 🪽

The couch is already warm from the two of you being pressed together for what feels like hours, the kind of lazy afternoon where neither of you bothered to move far enough to even consider standing up. Juhoon is unusually clingy today, even for him, and that alone says a lot.

He’s practically attached to you, arms locked firmly around your waist, his body half draped over yours as if letting go isn’t even an option his mind is willing to process. Every time you shift even slightly, he follows immediately, tightening his hold without thinking.

“You’re even worse than usual today,” you murmur, trying to sound annoyed, but it comes out soft instead.

He doesn’t answer properly. Instead, he pulls you closer again, burying his face into the side of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, steady but a little uneven, and you can feel how completely relaxed he is like this, even if he refuses to admit it.

“Don’t leave any time soon,” he says quietly, the words muffled against your skin, almost hesitant in a way that doesn’t match his usual confidence.

That makes you pause. Then you smile a little to yourself, fingers sliding up to the back of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere, Juhoon.”

He hums like he doesn’t fully believe you, but his grip doesn’t loosen. If anything, it gets tighter. Like he’s trying to physically make sure you stay.

Your hands start to play with his hair slowly, running through it in an absent, calming rhythm. He relaxes instantly under your touch, shoulders dropping as if he’s been holding tension there all day without you noticing. You feel his breath shift against your neck, slower now.

“You’re really comfortable like this,” you whisper.

“Mm,” he replies, which is not a word but somehow still an answer.

He shifts again, pulling you even closer, like he’s testing how far he can go before you protest.

You let out a small laugh. “We’re going to suffocate if you keep doing that.”

That earns you a quiet laugh from him, low and close to your shoulder, the sound vibrating through you more than you expect. He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, lingering just for a second before lifting his head slightly. His eyes meet yours for a moment, soft and unreadable in that way that always makes your heart trip over itself.

“Hi,” you say, smiling without thinking.

That seems to be enough for him. He leans in and kisses you properly, slow and warm, like he’s been waiting for that exact moment without realizing it. You melt into it instinctively, your hand still resting at the back of his neck. You love the way he kisses you, even if you would never say it out loud. It’s too easy to give him that satisfaction.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t go far. He never really does.

Your fingers find his hair again, and this time you start messing with it properly, separating strands and pushing them into different directions as if you’re experimenting. “Oou babe, this would actually suit you,” you say, trying to sound serious but failing as you laugh.

You push most of his hair dramatically to the right side, creating the silliest hairstyle imaginable, and tilt your head to admire your work.

“There,” you say proudly. “New look.”

Juhoon looks at you for a moment and instead of complaining, he just smiles. That soft, fond smile that always catches you off guard.

“You’re so adorable,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious truth in the world.

Before you can even respond, he lowers his head again, resting it right back into the curve of your neck like he belongs there. His arms tighten around your waist again, settling into you completely as if the conversation is over and this is where he intends to stay.

And honestly, you don’t mind.