𓏼 ͡ ֪ 𝓪udrey/rey 🌧️ ꒱꒱ ㅤ♫ ᣟ݂ ۪۪۪ 🎐 16! .
🎧 ◌ ˚ 09 . ֺּׅ𓏽 ꒰꒰ 🪡 𓏴 𝓬oergene ♪ ˚

titsay
One Nice Bug Per Day

blake kathryn
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Acquired Stardust

Kaledo Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Keni
occasionally subtle
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
$LAYYYTER
noise dept.

Origami Around
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature

seen from Denmark
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from South Korea

seen from Malaysia
seen from Costa Rica

seen from Taiwan

seen from United States

seen from South Korea

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Spain
seen from France

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@reysblr
𓏼 ͡ ֪ 𝓪udrey/rey 🌧️ ꒱꒱ ㅤ♫ ᣟ݂ ۪۪۪ 🎐 16! .
🎧 ◌ ˚ 09 . ֺּׅ𓏽 ꒰꒰ 🪡 𓏴 𝓬oergene ♪ ˚

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Can u make a fic where keonho gets his wisdom tooth removed and his girlfriend deals with him when he still hasn't come down from the anesthesia uk please I think you would write super well after reading your first drink for seann which was phenomenal btw like love yaaa ❤️🩹
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.
◟the ꩜ masterplan
pinned photographs, half-written notes, fading memories, and feelings left carelessly scattered across a corkboard — hi hi, hoonguin nation! introducing my new series, the masterplan ^__^
inspired by my four all-time favorite oasis songs, this enhypen⁷ hyung line series follows four different stories stitched together by love, longing, and all the quiet chaos that comes with caring a little too much !
angled somewhere between tender affection, consuming desire, reckless decisions, whispered confessions, and hearts far too fragile for their own good, each story carries its own little universe of emotions — some warm enough to feel like home, others heavier around the edges ><
but even then, through all the aching hearts, lingering touches, sleepless nights, and memories that refuse to stay buried, every fic remains pinned together as part of the same little collection ♡
started : 06/03/26 | finished : #
got a specific idea you want to see first? vote here ♡ poll open until 06/10/26 !!
EL’S ✷ BUBBLE : i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t very heavily inspired by my baby jo < @stwryun 33 !!! i’ve been listening to oasis for as long as i can genuinely remember, and even now they remain my favorite band ever 💌 my outside life has also started calling for me again, so updates will definitely 101% slow down compared to before ^__^ but i’ll still be working on this whenever i can ♡ if you’d like to be on the series taglist for future updates (or only for a specific member, please specify), feel free to comment and let me know hehe
apocalypse —kim juhoon
❣️bf!juhoon x f!reader, fluff, profanity, established relationship
w.c: 800~
syn: your boyfriend juhoon loves your lips
listen to: apocalypse by cigarettes after sex
iro's notes: i miss juhoon sm wtf
THIS SMELLY BITCHHHHHHHHHH
Yo it stank in here.
Im not sorry BUT WHAT ARE YOU FKING DOING WITH HR LIFE TO BE AN INVOLVED COER AT TWENTY BOMBOCLAT NINE YEARS OF AGE?? Bro is halfway to the grave writing nsfw ab teens 😭😭 js weird as hell

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esh ❤︎ love scenerio !
You liked to think you were a reasonable person. Unfortunately, all reason seemed to disappear whenever it came to Seonghyeon.
╰ tags , friends to lovers . school au . angst . fluff . mildlytoxic!reader . skinship . mutual pining . kissing. wc- 1.1k
❀ hi babiesss!! i know I said I was gonna be active again a while ago but…that doesn’t matter anymore 🌚 im actually back fr this time and I missed u all smm🥹🥹 I asked u guys on my poll who I should write for and hyeon won so here it is and I hope u guys like it🤍. Also, HAPPY PRIDE MONTH🌈
You had known Seonghyeon for long enough to recognize the smallest changes in his expressions. The way the corner of his mouth twitched when he was trying not to laugh. The way his eyes narrowed whenever he was concentrating. The way his voice softened when he spoke to people he cared about.
Unfortunately, knowing him this well came with a problem you had never managed to solve. You were completely, hopelessly in love with him. You had been for months, maybe longer. Confessing, however, was another matter entirely. Every time you thought about telling him, your courage disappeared. So instead, you suffered in silence, smiling through conversations while secretly feeling your stomach twist whenever another girl got too close to him. You hated how jealous you became.
It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t yours. Yet somehow you always found yourself interrupting conversations, dragging him away to do something else, or inserting yourself between him and whoever happened to be talking to him.
It was subtle enough that nobody ever called you out on it, but Seonghyeon wasn’t stupid. He noticed how your smile became strained whenever girls approached him. He noticed how your mood mysteriously improved once they left. Most importantly, he noticed that it only happened when it involved him.
Lately, rumors had started spreading around school that the two of you were dating. You knew about them. In fact, every time you overheard someone whispering about you and Seonghyeon being together, your heart secretly soared. Of course, you never corrected anyone unless directly asked. Seonghyeon, meanwhile, remained suspiciously quiet about the whole thing.
Seonghyeon is standing by the lockers, planning to give you a small keychain he bought because it reminded him of you, when one of the girls from earlier walks past.
"Ah, giving that to your girlfriend?" she teases, nodding toward the gift.
Seonghyeon blinks, stopping her. "Wait, what do you mean by that?"
"Oh, come on," the girl laughs. "Everyone's saying you two are dating. Especially with the way she gets so possessive and glare at anyone else who talks to you. It's kind of obvious."
Seonghyeon is confused for a minute but it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together and figure out what she’s talking about. Seonghyeon thanks the girl and walks away, a lot of thoughts forming in his mind.
————
The next time you two are hanging out, it’s late at night at his house rooftop. The city lights stretch out below, and the cool night air is a nice contrast to the warmth of the blanket you’re sharing. You guys are talking and eating snacks, the tension from earlier completely forgotten as you laugh together.
Until he leans back on his hands, looking at you intently, and not so subtly brings up the rumors.
"So," Seonghyeon starts, his voice dropping into a casual, teasing tone. "I heard a pretty interesting rumor today at school. Apparently, word goes that you and I are together."
Your heart stops. You quickly swallow your food, trying to keep your face blank. "What? Really? I had no idea."
In truth, you did know, and it made you delighted every single time you heard it. You loved the thought of being his, even if it was just gossip.
"Really? You had no idea?" Seonghyeon presses, shifting his weight so he’s sitting closer to you. The smell of his cologne hits you, dizzying and close. He leans in, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "Because from the way you act every time another girl comes up to me... I might start to think you have a crush on me."
You pause, your entire face bursting into a furious, bright blush. The silence between you is thick, charged with an undeniable, heavy tension. You want to deny it, you want to make up an excuse, but looking at him this close makes your brain short-circuit.
"I—I don't—you just—" you stutter, your hands shaking slightly against your knees. "It's just because you always take their stuff, and I—because I like you, okay?!"
Your eyes go wide. Did you just accidentally confess?
Seonghyeon doesn't look shocked at all. Instead, he just smirks like this was his plan all along. "Finally," he murmurs, his voice full of satisfaction. "Took you long enough. I like you too, you know."
You are completely out of breath, your chest heaving as you stare at him. You don't know what to say, but seeing that smug, victorious smirk on his face makes a wave of sudden disbelief wash over you.
You suddenly get up, stepping back on the rooftop blanket and pointing an accusing finger at him. "You—you set me up! You knew! You did that on purpose!"
Seonghyeon gets up too, holding his hands up defensively, though his eyes are dancing with amusement. "I did no such thing," he says, but it’s obviously a lie.
"You're a liar!"
You start chasing him around the small space of the rooftop, determined to swat the smirk right off his face. Seonghyeon laughs, stepping backward to dodge you, but in the dim light, you both accidentally collide. Your feet tangle together, and you lose your balance completely.
With a breathless gasp, you both go down. You land heavily right on top of him, the impact knocking the air from your lungs.
For a long moment, neither of you move.
His strong hand is wrapped firmly around your waist, holding you flush against his chest, his heart hammering rapidly beneath you. You slowly lift your head up and look at him, taking in his features up close—the sharp, perfect line of his jaw, his messy dark hair falling slightly over his forehead, and those intense eyes staring right back at you. He looks devastatingly handsome.
You try to find your voice, chastising him in a soft, breathless whisper. "You are so sneaky. I can't believe you did that."
Seonghyeon gives you the exact same smirk, tilting his chin up just enough to press a sudden, soft peck to your lips.
It catches you completely off guard. Your eyes widen further. "You... you can't do that!"
"Pretty sure I can," he murmurs, his voice dipping low as he leans up and gives you another one, lingering just a second longer.
"Seonghyeon, stop, I'm trying to be mad at—"
Before you can finish bickering, he grips your waist a bit tighter and suddenly turns around, rolling over so that he’s hovering over you on the blanket, trapping you beneath his weight.
Suddenly, all the playful arguing dies out. It’s just pure silence on the rooftop, the distant hum of the city fading into the background.
You look up at him, your breath hitching, and he looks down at you, his smirk finally melting away into something incredibly soft, full of warmth and pure admiration. His fingers gently slide up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin.
You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down as he finally goes in for a real, deep, breathtaking kiss.
@hyuneskkami @heelauv @lcvehyeon
all pages lead to you
ᨳଓ bsf!martin x fem!reader .✦ ݁˖ in which every page martin turns somehow ends with you ⋆˚࿔ fluff! kissing! ۶ৎ cutie martin! ⭑.ᐟ enjoy💗
the sun is a heavy, golden thing, pressing down through the windows and turning your living room into a hazy dream. the air smells like dust and cut grass drifting in from the open back door, and the only sound is the scratch of pencil on paper.
you're buzzing with that restless summer energy. the kind that makes your skin feel too tight, your legs itching to move.
you pad into the living room, and there he is. martin, your best friend since childhood, sprawled on your couch, one leg hanging off, his sketchbook balanced on his knee. his brow is furrowed, tongue poking out just slightly in concentration. he looks so peaceful, so absorbed.
you tiptoe closer, grinning. "whatcha drawing?"
he jerks, the sketchbook tilting away so fast it nearly falls off his lap. his ears go pink. "nothing!"
"nothing?" you drop onto the couch beside him, close enough that your knee brushes his. "you're literally drawing something."
"it's just- practice. shapes. boring stuff." he clutches the sketchbook to his chest like it's a shield, his voice a little too high.
you pout, lower lip sticking out. "martin. show me!”
"no."
"please?"
"no, bro!”
you lean closer, and he leans away, almost falling off the couch. your hand darts out, fingers closing around the sketchbook's spine, and you yank it from his grip before he can react. "got it!"
"hey- give it back!" he lunges, but you're already off the couch. bare feet slapping against the cool hardwood, laughter bubbling out of you.
"come on martin, i just wanna see!"
"it's private!"
you dodge around the dining table, flipping the sketchbook open as you run. he's faster than you expected, scrambling after you, but you're quicker. you slide through the back door and into the yard, the grass warm and soft under your feet, the sun hitting your shoulders.
he's yelling behind you. "seriously, give it back! it's not- stop!"
you ignore him, flipping pages as you run. the first page makes you slow down. it's a quick pencil sketch of a girl's profile, hair falling over her shoulder, a soft smile on her lips. your hair. your profile. your smile.
the second page is you laughing, head thrown back, eyes crinkled. the third is your hand resting on a table, fingers relaxed. the fourth is your eyes, wide and detailed, the lashes drawn with careful, loving strokes.
you stop running.
the pages keep flipping. more of you. you curled up on the couch, knees to your chest. you eating a popsicle on the porch, juice dripping down your chin. you with your hair messy in the morning, squinting at the sun. page after page after page. all of them you, captured in graphite and something that feels like love.
your heart stutters. the world goes quiet except for the birds and your own breathing.
"got you!"
martin crashes into you from behind, arms wrapping around your waist. his momentum sending you both tumbling forward onto the grass. you land with a soft thump.
the sketchbook flying from your hand, and he lands on top of you, his weight pressing you into the cool earth. his breath is ragged, his heart pounding against his chest.
for two seconds, there's nothing but the sound of your breathing, the heat of his body, the sun on your skin.
then he looks down. at the sketchbook, lying open beside you. at the page of you sleeping, lips slightly parted, hair fanned out on a pillow.
"oh…” he says.
silence stretches. his face goes red. not just his ears, his whole face, from his cheeks to the tips of his fingers where they press into the grass. he scrambles to grab the sketchbook, but you snatched it first.
"martin."
"it's not- i can explain- i just- you're-“ he's stammering, his eyes wide and panicked, like a deer caught in headlights. his hands hover in the air, reaching for nothing.
you look up at him. at this boy you've known your whole life, who's been quietly drawing you for weeks. maybe years. the summer air is thick with the smell of cut grass. he's hovering over you, his hair falling into his eyes, his chest rising and falling fast.
you smile, slow and warm.
"you're such an idiot” you say, and then you lift your head from the grass and kiss him.
it's soft. just your lips brushing against his, tentative and sweet. his lips are warm and slightly chapped, and he freezes. for a second you think you've misjudged everything. that he'll pull away in embarrassment. but then he makes a small, broken sound, and his hand cups your jaw, tilting your head back into the kiss.
you sigh against his mouth. the grass is cool beneath you, his body warm, and the kiss deepens slowly, like learning a new language. his thumb traces your cheek, gentle and shaking, and you part your lips. it tastes like summer and something sweet. like a feeling you’ve been chasing your whole life.
he kisses you like he's been wanting to for a long time. soft and scared and hopeful all at once. his other hand slides into the grass beside your head, bracing himself, and your free hand tangles in his hair, pulling him closer. his hair is soft, a little damp from the heat. he sighs against your mouth.
it's clumsy and perfect. the way first kisses should be. his hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he kisses you deeper. like he's trying to memorize the shape of your mouth.
when you finally break apart, you're both breathless. he's still hovering over you, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes soften. his lips are slightly swollen, and there's a dazed look on his face that makes your heart flutter.
"so…” you say, your voice a little shaky. "how long have you been drawing me?"
his laugh is nervous and breathless, a puff of air against your lips. "maybe… three years?"
"three years?" you widen your eyes.
"give or take." his ears are still red, but he's smiling now. a shy, crooked smile.
you pull him down into another kiss, and this time he laughs into it, so warm and inviting. the sun beats down on you, the grass tickles your arms, and you've never felt lighter. you kiss him until the birds get louder and your lips are sore.
and when you finally stop, he's tracing patterns on your arm with his fingertip, his sketchbook forgotten in the grass beside you.
— ᨳଓ . a/n: hope you guys enjoyed this little blurb! i literally crave something like this bro, this is so romantic bye😣🤞🏻
Careful
Pairing - Ohyul x reader
Synopsis - When months of overworking yourself finally catch up to you, Ohyul and the members step in to remind you that you don’t have to carry everything alone.
Genre - angst/fluff
Requested
MASTERLIST
Ohyul knew something was wrong before you ever said anything.
He noticed it in the way your messages started getting shorter.
Usually, you texted him like your thoughts were tripping over each other, sending three bubbles before he could even answer the first one. You would tell him about the smallest things, like how your coffee tasted weird, or how someone at work said something dramatic, or how you saw a dog that looked like it had an attitude problem.
Lately, though, your replies were different.
yeah
it’s okay
I’m fine
i’m just tired
At first, he tried not to overthink it. Everyone got busy. Everyone had days where they did not feel like talking much. He knew you had work piling up, and he knew you hated making people worry about you, so he told himself to relax.
But then one tired day turned into three.
Then three turned into a week.
Then you stopped answering his calls.
That was when Ohyul really started to worry.
The dorm was loud that night, the kind of loud that usually made him complain, but in a half laughing way. Louis and Woojin were arguing over what to order for dinner, Ryul was stretched across the couch with his phone held above his face, and Ohyul sat at the kitchen table staring at your contact.
He had sent you a message almost twenty minutes ago.
did you eat yet?
You had not answered.
That by itself was not the end of the world, but the tiny unread message felt like a weight in his chest.
“You look scary,” Louis said, leaning over the back of the chair beside him. “Like actually scary. What are you plotting?”
Ohyul blinked and looked up. “Nothing.”
“That was not a nothing face.”
Woojin looked over from where he was scrolling through food options. “Is it about her?”
Ohyul did not answer right away, which basically answered for him.
Ryul lowered his phone a little. “She has been weird lately.”
Ohyul’s eyes snapped toward him. “What do you mean?”
Ryul sat up slowly, realizing he had stepped right into it. “I mean, not weird bad. Just quiet. She came over the other day and barely said anything.”
“She came over?” Ohyul asked.
“You were at practice,” Woojin said. “She dropped off that hoodie you left at her place.”
Ohyul frowned. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because she was here for like two minutes,” Louis said. “And she looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up, so I didn’t want to bother her.”
That made Ohyul feel worse.
He looked back down at his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact again. He wanted to call you, but he also did not want to make you feel cornered. That was always the hard part with you. You were so good at taking care of everyone else, but the second someone tried to take care of you, you acted like you had been caught doing something wrong.
His phone buzzed.
Your name lit up the screen.
Ohyul grabbed it so fast Louis actually flinched.
yeah i ate
That was it.
No joke. No heart. No little complaint about your day.
Just three words.
Ohyul stared at them, then typed back.
what did you eat?
The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, appeared again, then vanished completely.
No answer.
He pushed his chair back.
“I’m going to her place.”
Louis straightened. “Right now?”
“Yes.”
Woojin gave him a look. “Do you even know if she wants company?”
Ohyul paused with his hoodie halfway over his head. That question bothered him because he did not know. He hated that he did not know.
Ryul’s voice was calmer. “Just bring food. Then it looks less like you’re going there to interrogate her.”
Louis nodded. “And don’t walk in acting all intense. You do that face and people immediately feel guilty.”
“I do not have a face.”
“You have several,” Woojin said. “This one is your ‘I am worried but pretending I’m not about to panic’ face.”
Ohyul ignored him, but he still grabbed his keys slower than before.
By the time he got to your place, he had a bag of food in one hand and his phone in the other. He stood outside your door for a few seconds, listening to the quiet on the other side.
Then he knocked.
It took long enough for him to knock again.
Finally, the door opened.
And there you were.
You looked like you had been running on nothing but stress and stubbornness. Your hair was a little messy, your eyes tired, your shoulders tense under an oversized sweatshirt. You blinked at him like your brain needed a second to understand he was actually there.
“Ohyul?”
He tried to smile, but it came out softer than usual. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I brought food.”
Your eyes dropped to the bag, then back to his face. “I told you I ate.”
“What did you eat?”
You opened your mouth.
Nothing came out.
Ohyul lifted his eyebrows.
You looked away. “I had coffee.”
“That is not food.”
“It has milk in it.”
He stared at you.
You sighed and stepped back. “Fine. Come in.”
Your place looked exactly like you had been swallowed by work. There were papers on the table, your laptop was open, your bag was dropped near the couch, and a half empty cup sat beside a pile of notes. It was not dirty, just overwhelmed. Like you had been moving from one task to the next without giving yourself a second to breathe.
Ohyul set the food down and took it all in quietly.
You noticed.
“Don’t look at it like that,” you muttered, walking past him. “I know it’s messy.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You were thinking it.”
“No,” he said. “I was thinking you look tired.”
That made you stop.
For a second, your face changed. The careful wall you had been holding up slipped just a little, and he saw it. The exhaustion. The pressure. The way you were trying so hard not to fall apart in front of him.
Then you forced a small laugh and turned away. “Everyone’s tired.”
Ohyul hated that answer.
He followed you into the kitchen area, where you started moving random things around like pretending to clean would make the moment less heavy.
“Sit down,” he said.
“I can’t. I have to finish this thing.”
“You can eat first.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You just said coffee was food.”
You gave him a look. “I’m fine.”
There it was again.
Those two words.
Ohyul stepped closer, not crowding you, but close enough that you had to notice he was not going to let the conversation disappear. His voice stayed gentle.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
You froze with your hand on the counter.
The room went quiet.
Ohyul swallowed. He did not want to fight with you. That was the last thing he wanted. But he also could not keep watching you disappear into yourself while everyone pretended not to see it.
“You don’t answer calls anymore,” he said. “You barely text. You came to the dorm and didn’t even tell me. Louis said you looked like you were about to pass out. You’re not eating. You’re not sleeping. And every time I ask you what’s wrong, you say you’re fine like that makes it true.”
Your jaw tightened. “I just have a lot going on.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” Your voice cracked slightly, and you looked frustrated with yourself for it. “You don’t get it. I have so much to do, and every time I finish one thing, there’s something else. And I keep telling myself I’ll rest later, but later never comes, and I’m so behind, and I don’t even know where to start anymore.”
Ohyul’s expression softened.
You pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to stop the tears before they could fully show. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“I’m just being dramatic.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.” You laughed once, but it sounded broken. “It’s not even that serious. People deal with worse stuff all the time. I should be able to handle this.”
Ohyul shook his head. “You don’t have to earn being tired.”
That was what finally broke you.
Your shoulders dropped, and the tears came before you could hide them. You turned away quickly, embarrassed, but Ohyul was already there, his hand gently catching yours.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t do that.”
“I hate crying.”
“I know.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s not.”
You tried to wipe your face with your sleeve, but he reached for a tissue first, holding it out without making a big deal out of it. That made you cry harder for some reason. Not because it was huge, but because it was small. Because he noticed. Because he came over. Because he brought food. Because he was looking at you like you were not annoying or dramatic or too much.
You were just someone he loved who was tired.
Ohyul guided you to the couch and sat beside you, close enough to be there but not so close that you felt trapped. He let you cry without rushing you. He did not tell you to calm down. He did not try to fix everything in one sentence.
He just stayed.
After a while, your breathing slowed.
“I didn’t want you to worry,” you whispered.
“That did not work.”
You gave a tiny laugh through your tears. “Yeah, I can tell.”
“I worry more when you pretend.”
You looked down at your hands. “I didn’t want to be annoying.”
Ohyul looked almost offended. “You think you could annoy me by needing help?”
“I don’t know.”
“You help me all the time.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
You did not have an answer.
He leaned back against the couch, watching you carefully. “You always show up for me. When I’m stressed, when I’m tired, when I get in my head, you just know. You bring me snacks, you text me reminders, you sit with me even when I’m being quiet.”
“You’re not hard to take care of.”
His face softened again. “Neither are you.”
For once, you did not argue.
The two of you sat there for a moment, the food still untouched on the table, your laptop still open across the room. The world did not magically fix itself, but it felt a little less impossible with him beside you.
Then Ohyul stood.
You looked up quickly. “Where are you going?”
“To get plates.”
“You don’t know where anything is.”
“I’ll find it.”
He did not find it.
He opened the wrong cabinet three times, found a mug, a random candle, and a bag of napkins before you finally laughed and pointed him in the right direction.
“There,” you said. “Second one.”
“I was testing you.”
“You were struggling.”
“I was being independent.”
“You were losing to a kitchen.”
Ohyul smiled a little, and it was the first time all night that the tight feeling in his chest eased.
He brought the food over and sat with you while you ate. He did not hover, but he watched enough to make sure you actually took more than two bites. Every time you slowed down too much, he gave you a look until you rolled your eyes and ate another piece.
“You’re being bossy,” you said.
“You need bossy.”
“I do not.”
“You had coffee for dinner.”
You went quiet.
He pointed at your plate. “Exactly.”
About halfway through, your phone buzzed. You glanced at it and immediately went tense.
Ohyul noticed. “Work?”
You nodded.
“Do you have to answer right now?”
“I should.”
“That was not my question.”
You stared at the screen, thumb hovering.
Ohyul gently took the phone from your hand and placed it face down on the table.
You blinked. “Ohyul.”
“Ten minutes.”
“But—”
“Ten minutes,” he repeated. “Eat. Breathe. Then we look at it together.”
Something about the word together made you stop fighting.
So you ate.
Afterward, Ohyul helped you sort through what actually needed to be done and what your stressed brain was pretending needed to be done. He made three piles on your table, even though his version of organizing was mostly just pushing papers around and asking, “Is this evil?” every time he found something new.
By the time the members called, you were tucked under a blanket on the couch while Ohyul sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, rewriting your to-do list into something that looked less terrifying.
He answered on speaker.
“Is she alive?” Louis asked immediately.
You leaned toward the phone. “Wow. Hello to you too.”
“Oh, good. She sounds annoyed. That means she’s fine.”
“I am not fine,” you said, then paused.
Ohyul looked over at you.
You looked down at your blanket, voice quieter. “But I’m better.”
The line went softer for half a second.
Then Woojin said, “Did she eat?”
“Yes,” Ohyul answered.
“Did she drink water?”
Ohyul looked at the cup on the table. “Half.”
“Make her drink the rest.”
“I’m right here,” you said.
Ryul’s voice came through next. “We know. Drink the water.”
You stared at the phone, betrayed. “Why are all of you teaming up on me?”
“Because you’re scary when you’re overworked,” Louis said. “And because Ohyul gets scary when you’re overworked.”
Ohyul frowned. “I do not.”
“You showed up here earlier looking like you were going to storm a castle.”
“That is not true.”
You smiled into your cup as you finally drank the rest of the water.
The members stayed on the call for a few more minutes, mostly making jokes so the heaviness in the room could loosen. They did not push you to explain everything. They did not make you feel bad. They just made it clear, in their own loud way, that they had noticed you and cared.
When the call ended, Ohyul looked satisfied.
“They love you,” he said.
You picked at the edge of the blanket. “I know.”
“Do you?”
You were quiet.
He stood and moved to sit beside you again. “You don’t have to disappear when things get bad.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“I know.”
“I just feel like if I tell people I’m struggling, then it becomes real.”
Ohyul nodded slowly. “But it is real even when you don’t tell anyone.”
That hit harder than you expected.
You leaned your head against the back of the couch, suddenly exhausted all over again, but in a different way. Not the sharp kind of tired that made your chest feel tight. This was softer. Like your body finally understood it was allowed to stop running.
Ohyul reached for the blanket and tugged it higher around your shoulders.
“You’re sleeping after this,” he said.
“I still have work.”
“You have one thing left. The rest can wait.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do because we made the list.”
“You made the list. I supervised.”
“You cried on the couch.”
“I emotionally supervised.”
He smiled, and you felt yourself smile back.
It was small, but it was real.
Later, after you finished the one thing that actually needed to be done, Ohyul closed your laptop before you could find another task to stress over.
“No more.”
“But—”
“No.”
“You’re enjoying this too much.”
“I am enjoying being right.”
“You’re always like this?”
“With you, yes.”
You looked at him, your expression softening in a way that made him suddenly shy. He looked away first, pretending to fix the blanket even though it was already fine.
“Thank you,” you said.
He shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You don’t.”
You swallowed, feeling that familiar sting behind your eyes again, but this time you did not try so hard to hide it.
Ohyul noticed anyway, because of course he did.
He opened his arms slightly, giving you the choice, and you moved into him without a word. He held you carefully, his chin resting lightly near the top of your head, one hand moving in slow, comforting circles against your back.
There was nothing dramatic about it.
No perfect speech.
No magic answer.
Just him.
Just warmth.
Just the steady reminder that you were not alone.
For the first time in days, your body relaxed.
“I’m sorry I made you worry,” you mumbled.
Ohyul’s voice was quiet above you. “Just let me worry a little next time.”
“That sounds weird.”
“It makes sense.”
“Not really.”
“It means I care.”
You closed your eyes. “I know.”
“And it means you don’t have to wait until you’re falling apart to tell me something is wrong.”
You nodded against him.
He held you a little closer. “I like taking care of you too, you know.”
Your voice came out sleepy. “Even when I’m a mess?”
“Especially then.”
“That’s rude.”
“That’s love.”
You were too tired to answer, but he felt you smile against his hoodie.
A little while later, when your breathing evened out and you finally fell asleep, Ohyul stayed right where he was. His arm had gone a little numb, his legs were uncomfortable, and his phone kept buzzing with messages from the members asking for updates.
He answered with one hand.
she’s sleeping
Louis replied first.
FINALLY
Woojin sent a string of clapping emojis.
Ryul wrote,
make sure she eats breakfast tomorrow too
Ohyul looked down at you, curled up against him with the blanket pulled around your shoulders, your face finally peaceful.
He typed back,
i will
Then he put his phone away and rested his head gently against yours.
You had spent so much time being careful with everyone else.
Now it was his turn to be careful with you.
-tags - @louis4sho @sh1n3-4h4na @sturniolos4life16 @umizoomiz
(not) spoiled (p. jay)
jay loves to spoil you, even if you don't want him to
pairing: jay x reader || wc: 1.2k || cw: fluff!! established relationship, kissing, use of petnames, comfort(?), very lightly suggestive || warnings: none! || a/n: all thanks to this request!! oh jay </3
you and jay have been together for almost two years now, and one thing has never changed: your inability to accept gifts without feeling massive guilt.
it’s a sunny saturday afternoon when the issue comes up again.
you’re walking through the luxury department store because jay needed new shoes for an upcoming schedule. at least, that’s what you thought. somehow you’ve ended up in the jewelry section, and jay is staring at a delicate gold necklace with a small diamond pendant that costs more than your monthly rent.
“don’t even think about it,” you say immediately, grabbing his arm.
I’M NOT A PARK ANYMORE, I TOOK MY WIFE’S NAME … ❤︎ park sunghoon
PART 1, PART 2 ─── bored of your life, you go on tinder and match with a hot guy named park sunghoon, who in his bio, states that he’s “date to marry.” but he offers you a deal: fake a marriage with him to annoy his obnoxious family and he’ll pay you for it.
or you’re in a fake marriage with sunghoon and he takes your last name to piss his relatives off. oh and did i tell you that he’s lowkey obsessed with you? even though he’s just your “fake husband.”
contains husband!sunghoon x wife!reader. smau, romcom, strangers to lovers, fake marriage au. obsessed!sunghoon. sunghoon comes from a rich fam. use of y/n. yn is lowk easy. opposite of slowburn but dw their relationship actually progresses
( 🪽 ) —— first enha smau >< hope u guys like it :P likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated <3 btw i have never used tinder so i js edited shi .. also there's a videocall part that'll take a few seconds to load.. also pls their texts gets funnier, its still pt1!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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STUDIO SURPRISE martin edwards park
summary. martin finally sees his girlfriend’s ‘hidden” talent
content. fluff, kissing, established relationship, literally just martin being down bad
the soft hum of equipment and the steady thud of a beat greeted you as you pushed open the heavy soundproof door. it was early evening, and the golden light from the setting sun filtered through the high windows, dusting the room in warm amber. there he was, martin, leaning over the mixing desk, headphones slung around his neck, fingers tapping rhythmically against the edge of the console. he looked so focused, so in his element, a small frown of concentration between his brows that you just wanted to kiss away.
you lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching him. he was wearing that oversized hoodie you loved, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and his blond hair was slightly messy from running his hands through it too many times. when he finally glanced up and saw you, his entire face softened, breaking into that familiar, boyish grin that made your heart flutter every single time.
“hey you,” he said, his voice warm and low, instantly abandoning the controls to stride over to you. he pulled you close by the waist, wrapping his arms tight around you like he hadn’t seen you in weeks instead of just this morning. “didn’t hear you come in.”
“didn’t want to disturb the genius at work,” you teased, looping your arms around his neck and leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. he hummed happily against yours, deepening it just a little, before pulling back just enough to look at you.
“you could never disturb me,” he murmured, brushing his nose gently against yours. “missed you today.”
“missed you too,” you replied, smiling as you ran a hand through his hair. “how’s it going?”
he stepped back, tugging you along with him toward the desk, his hand never leaving yours. “good, actually. working on this track… but i’ve been struggling with a melody line. something’s missing, y’know?”
he pulled you down onto the sofa tucked in the corner of the room and sat beside you, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart underneath the soft fabric of his hoodie. he played a little bit of the track for you. it was edgy, atmospheric, classic martin.
“it’s great babe,” you told him honestly. “but i get what you mean. it feels like it needs a voice that feels… soft, i guess.”
martin went quiet for a second, staring at the equipment, then suddenly his eyes lit up, and he turned to you with that mischievous sparkle you knew so well. a spark of an idea had just hit him.
“y’know what?” he said, sitting up a little straighter and turning fully toward you, taking both your hands in his. “you should try it.”
you blinked, laughing softly. “try what? pressing buttons? i’ll probably break something.”
he shook his head, grinning. “no, baby. sing it. come on.”
you pulled your hands back, eyes going wide. “martin, absolutely not. i can’t sing! i hum in the shower, that’s it. you’re the musical genius here, remember?”
he leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, his voice dropping to that low, persuasive tone he knew worked every time. “c’mon, baby. just for me? please? i promise i won’t judge. even if it’s terrible, i’ll still love you more than anything.” he punctuated that with a quick, sweet peck on the lips, then another and another. “just try a little bit. for me?”
you knew you were going to cave the second he looked at you with those big, pleading eyes. you sighed dramatically, trying to hide your smile. “you’re impossible. fine. but if it’s awful, you’re deleting it immediately and you’re buying me dinner.”
“deal,” he said instantly, beaming, and kissed your forehead.
he jumped up, practically bouncing with excitement, and guided you over to the microphone stand in the booth. he adjusted the height for you, his hands brushing yours gently as he fixed the pop filter. he stood so close behind you that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, his chest pressed lightly against your back. he reached around you to put the headphones over your ears, his fingers brushing your hair back tenderly.
“comfortable?” he asked, his voice right by your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you nodded, suddenly nervous. “alright. just listen to the track. i’ll start it slow. just sing the melody like you hear it. don’t think about it too much, yeah? just feel it.”
he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, lingering there for a second, and whispered, “you’ve got this.”
he stepped back to the desk, giving you a thumbs up. the music started playing in your ears. you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and when the moment came, you sang.
you didn’t think about technique or pitch or anything. you just let the melody flow out, singing the lines the way they felt right, soft and gentle. it felt natural, almost like talking, just… musical. you finished the little section, opened your eyes, and pulled the headphones down around your neck, looking at him apprehensively.
“and?” you asked, bracing yourself. “was it as bad as i thought?”
martin was just sitting there, hands hovering over the board, staring at you with his mouth slightly open, looking completely stunned. he didn’t move or speak for a few seconds, and you started to get worried.
“martin?”
suddenly he shot up from his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process, and practically ran into the booth, grabbing your face in his hands. his eyes were wide and shining, filled with pure wonder and something else: pride, amazement, love.
“are you kidding me?” he breathed, his voice thick with disbelief. “you wanna join cortis?”
“i… what?”
“that was incredible,” he said, almost shouting it before remembering where he was and lowering his voice, though he was still beaming brighter than you’d ever seen him. he pressed his forehead hard against yours, holding you so tightly it felt like he never wanted to let go. “baby… you have no idea how beautiful that was. you’re tone… it’s perfect. how have you been hiding this from me?”
you laughed, shocked yourself. “i didn’t know! i really thought i was just noise!”
martin pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumbs stroking gently over your cheeks. “you sound amazing. like… actually amazing. i’m blown away.”
before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours, happy, and full of so much affection it made your knees weak. he kissed you deeply, pouring every ounce of his pride and adoration into it, his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you flush against him. you wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into him, smiling against his lips.
when he finally pulled away, he was grinning like an idiot. “we are keeping that. and we are doing more of it. you and me, making music together.” he pressed a small kiss to your cheek while nodding his head.
“y’know,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder, then your neck, then turning your head just enough to steal another quick kiss. “i always knew you were perfect. but now? you’re perfect and talented? dang, how did i get so lucky?”
you turned in his arms, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. “i think i’m the lucky one. especially since you’re going to treat me to that dinner now, right?”
martin laughed, the sound echoing softly in the studio, and nodded, “absolutely. dinner, dessert, anything you want. but first, one more take? just so i can listen to you sing a little longer?”
you rolled your eyes playfully, but you were already leaning back toward the mic, his arms still wrapped tight around you.
“i love you, you’re genuinely so amazing in every way” he whispered, and as the music started again, you sang for him, and he listened with the biggest, proudest smile.
🐼 aya’s note. this was lowkey rushed sorry…
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ REALLY LIKE YOUㅤㅤ(🕷️) ㅤㅤMARTIN
ㅤ೯𓂃 ...... ㅤㅤ말하고 싶어 to say i love you, but boy i like you
SYN. ㅤyou really, really like your best friendㅤ ꒰✉️꒱ㅤbsf!martin x bsf!readerㅤ✶ㅤwritten, fluff, profanity, humour ㅤbasketball au
🕸️ ; i emerge from hiatus everyone
A BASKETBALL MATCH FULL OF SCREAMING GIRLS had not been how you planned on spending your Friday evening. It was undeniable that you had a crush on Martin even if he was the only one who didn’t know it, which is the only reason why you agreed to come to his matches in the first place wearing his shirt he basically forced you to get into. “Just wear it.” He whined, holding up the shirt and trying to give you puppy eyes that were totally working, even if you wouldn’t admit it. “No, thank you. I would rather not have all your fangirls starting a riot because I’m wearing a shirt signed specially by the ‘Great Martin Edwards’.” You commented, warily imagining the usual scene of nasty looks shot in your direction since you did everything with him.
Given that he was your best friend and terribly clingy, doing everything together had become a norm; skateboarding home, convenience store raids, sleeping over schoolbooks in the library since you decided to game all night instead of study like you planned to.
“I, the great Martin Edwards will protect you.” He spoke up, already lifting your arms and shoving the shirt down your body, flashing you his boyish grin at how cute you looked as you drowned in his shirt, despite your heavy scowl. That same grin brought you out of your imagination and into the reality of excited shrieks and the sweaty boy staring down at you.
( #SNEAK DISSERS? THATS THAT SHI I DONT LIKE ) PART ONE ──── when your ex's girlfriend is getting too comfortable sneak dissing you on public platforms, you and your bsf decide to take matters into your own hands
# MARTIN EDWARDS × FEM!READER ( fluff & humor ) &&. EX!JUHOON JUHOON'S UNNAMED GF BSF!WONHEE ACADEMIC!AU (implied college solely because wonhee lives in a dorm) reader tutors martin !!! martin & juhoon's current gf have a link 🤫 but I can't spoil that read the fic to find out
( 𝓀aikai. ) PART TWO SOON ^•^ title a reference to the chief keef song lolll umm 😴 HIIIIIIII HELLOOOOO BOYSSS WHO MISSED MEEEEEE wow how long has it been since I uploaded a fic 😭😭 I'm still in the week before my finals start but I had an INSANE rush of inspo and you know how I am 😹😹 this is my last chance to post a fic while I'm still 19 so 😭 I wanted to make a special drop since my bday soon, I've been hella mia AND I missed you guys so much 😭 please catch me up y'all how have you guys been? I hope this is funny and I haven't lost my charm 😭😭😭
cinderella ft martin edwards ⟡ ݁ ݁♪ ⋆.
contains: bf!martin x gf!reader, female pronouns used. lowercase intended. fluff with angst. boarding school au. inspired by cinderella by mac miller ft ty dolla sign synopsis: everyone at st. augustine’s knows martin edwards, the school’s star musician and your boyfriend. between shared headphones, late-night walks back to your dorm, expensive prom outfits, and sneaking into empty practice rooms after curfew, senior year starts feeling like something out of a dream. martin looks at you like midnight will eventually take you away from him... and maybe he’s right. warnings: kissing, jokes, cursing, very highschool, making out mentioned but no details at all im not writing anything beyond a kiss about cortis, angst kinda.
you first met martin because of juhoon. well not met met.
you already knew who he was long before that. everybody at st. augustine’s did.
martin edwards. the school’s star musician. the pretty boy with expensive headphones and a stupidly charming smile that somehow worked on everybody. girls followed him around constantly, teachers adored him, and somehow even the guys liked him too.
you personally found him annoying. “he’s literally not even that special,” you said once while editing photos in the media room.
ella looked up from her phone. “that sounded personal.”
“it wasn’t.” you respond “you called him ‘artificially likable.’” ella replied to you with a certain tone, indicating your feelings towards him.
“because he is.” you respond with speed.
the truth was martin made you nervous in the worst way possible. not because he flirted with you, he actually didn’t. but because every time he walked into a room, people naturally shifted toward him. and you hated people like that. hated boys who were too charming, too easy, too wanted. it made you feel this gold rush, what must it feel to grow up that beautiful?
juhoon, unfortunately, was best friends with him. which meant martin kept appearing everywhere.
lunch tables. movie nights. study sessions. random dorm hangouts.
and every single time, martin tried talking to you. “you’re avoiding me,” he said.
“observant.” you reply
“did i do something?”
“you were born a man.”
ella nearly choked laughing.
martin just stared at you for a second before smiling. “that’s actually fair.”
that annoyed you more.
because he never got offended.
keonho once said, “i genuinely think martin likes the way you insult him.”
“ew what the fuck,” you replied.
“exactly,” arin said dramatically from beside him. “that’s why he’s obsessed with you.”
martin wasn’t obsessed with you.
he was just… persistent.
he’d sit beside you during group hangouts even when you barely acknowledged him. he’d steal your camera to take blurry photos of seonghyeon sleeping during study hall. he’d randomly send you songs at two in the morning with zero explanation.
most of the time you left him on seen.
he still kept texting.
juhoon noticed before you did.
“you smile at your phone now,” he said one night while the two of you walked back to your dorms.
“i literally don’t.”
“you do when it’s martin.”
you rolled your eyes hard enough to hurt.
but later that night, while sitting alone in your room, you caught yourself rereading one of martin’s messages anyway.
martin: you looked pretty today btw
no flirting. no weirdness. just that.
simple.
which somehow made it worse.
things shifted after home economics started. mostly because the teacher kept pairing the two of you together.
martin was horrible at following instructions and kept burning everything while you stood there trying not to laugh.
“stop smiling,” you told him once.
“you noticed?”
“unfortunately.”
“you think i’m funny.”
“i think you’re a public safety risk.”
he laughed so hard he nearly dropped the mixing bowl.
after that, being around him became easy.
dangerously easy.
he started walking you back to your dorm after class. you started saving him seats in the library without thinking about it. eventually martin’s hoodie stayed in your room more than his own.
and somewhere between late-night vending machine runs, shared headphones, and martin quietly playing unreleased songs for you in empty practice rooms, people started assuming you were together.
the weird thing was neither of you corrected them.
then one night in december, martin showed up outside your dorm building holding two instant ramens and looking exhausted from rehearsal.
“come outside for a second,” he texted.
you found him sitting on the curb under the yellow dorm lights.
“you look terrible,” you told him.
“thank you baby.”
you froze slightly. martin froze too. the word had slipped out naturally. like it already belonged to you.
his ears turned a little red. “sorry.”
you stared at him for a few seconds too long.
then quietly: “it’s fine.”
martin looked at you carefully then, like he was trying to solve something.
“can i ask you something?”
“depends.”
“are you ever gonna let me take you on a real date?”
you should’ve said no.
instead you looked down at the ramen in his hands. “these for me?”
“obviously.”
“…then maybe.”
martin smiled slowly.
and somehow that felt more dangerous than if he’d kissed you.
-
by march, everyone already assumed you and martin were together.
which honestly would’ve been easier if either of you had actually said it out loud.
instead, the two of you existed in this weird in-between space where martin slept in your dorm half the week, carried your camera bag without asking, held your hand whenever he felt like it, and still somehow never officially called you his girlfriend.
ella found the entire thing embarrassing.
“if you don’t define this relationship soon, i’m reporting both of you to the administration.”
“for what?”
“public emotional stupidity.”
meanwhile martin seemed perfectly content existing like this forever.
and maybe you were too.
until prom season started.
suddenly the entire school became unbearable. girls screaming over dresses, guys pretending not to care while very obviously caring, teachers threatening to cancel afterparties every other morning.
keonho had already bought three different suits. arin called two of them ugly. they almost broke up twice in one afternoon.
you had just gotten out of biology HL feeling genuinely dead inside when you saw martin leaning against the hallway wall outside your classroom.
girls passing by kept glancing at him.
of course they were.
he looked unfairly pretty today. grey hoodie under his uniform blazer, headphones around his neck, hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it all day.
“you waited outside my class?” you asked.
martin shrugged. “maybe.”
“that’s humiliating.”
“for you or for me?”
“both.”
he laughed quietly before falling into step beside you down the hallway.
for a few seconds neither of you said anything.
then: “so… prom.”
you looked at him suspiciously. “what about it?”
martin rubbed the back of his neck a little, suddenly looking oddly nervous.
“i was gonna do something dramatic,” he admitted. “like flowers or a sign or whatever but seonghyeon said you’d probably leave me there to die.”
“he knows me well.”
“yeah.”
another pause.
then martin glanced at you.
“but do you wanna go with me?”
simple.
no giant gesture. no audience. just martin looking at you carefully like your answer actually mattered to him.
“you’re asking kinda late,” you said.
“i know. i thought maybe somebody cooler asked you already.”
“nobody cooler exists at this school. everyone here is deeply embarrassing.”
martin smiled. “is that a yes?”
you pretended to think about it for a second too long just to annoy him.
then: “i guess.”
“wow,” he said dryly. “romantic.”
“you’ll survive.”
martin bumped his shoulder lightly against yours as the two of you walked toward the dorm buildings together.
and even though the conversation had been casual, almost stupidly normal, your heart kept beating strangely fast anyway.
because martin edwards looked happier than he had all week just because you said yes.
-
the first saturday of april meant one thing at st. augustine’s:
prom shopping.
which was apparently serious enough for the school to let seniors leave campus for the entire day under the condition that nobody got arrested, pregnant, or featured on social media doing something “inappropriate.”
james, now technically staff, called it: “the annual heterosexual hunger games.”
the girls left first.
arin immediately took control of the entire outing like a military commander in designer sunglasses.
“nobody buys anything ugly,” she announced while walking into the mall. “and if i see satin from shein, i’m killing myself in front of all of you.”
“good morning to you too,” ella muttered.
you honestly weren’t planning on caring this much.
you just needed a dress. something simple. something decent enough for photos.
meanwhile arin treated prom like the met gala.
within twenty minutes she had forced malia into trying on six dresses, made hyein nearly pass out from stress, and threatened to physically snatch a glittery red gown out of yoonchae’s hands.
“you look like a christmas ornament.”
“you look unemployed,” yoonchae shot back.
ella was sitting on a bench rating random men walking past on a scale from “annoying” to “future tax fraud.”
“that one definitely cheats emotionally,” she said while pointing at somebody holding shopping bags for his girlfriend.
“you cannot tell that from his posture.”
“yes i can.”
at some point arin turned toward you dramatically.
“what color are you wearing?”
“lilac probably.”
“okay. text martin right now.”
“why?”
arin stared at you like you’d just admitted you ate glue recreationally. “so his tie matches your dress obviously?”
“i don’t care if it matches.”
“well i care.”
before you could stop her, arin had already picked up her phone to text him.
"you have martin saved as, 'that tall slut' ?" you asked her, "yes hes tall and annoying so thats why i saved him as that." arin replied.
arin: wear lilac or i’ll kill you
that tall slut:???
arin: the tie idiot
three dots appeared almost immediately.
that tall slut: yes ma’am
she showed you the text, you hated how that made you smile.
meanwhile on the other side of the city, the boys’ shopping trip looked significantly less glamorous.
mostly because none of them actually wanted to be there.
“why do we all have to dress like divorced businessmen?” seonghyeon complained while holding up another plain black suit.
“because society fears creativity,” woojin replied solemnly.
martin was mostly quiet, scrolling through photos of lilac colored ties on his phone while keonho looked genuinely close to losing his mind.
“arin threatened to leave me for an italian nepo baby three times today,” he said bitterly.
“only three?” martin asked.
“because apparently i picked ‘the wrong shade of pink.’ do you know how many pinks there are?”
“a lot.” james, now graduated and currently working as a CAS adviser for them and also supervising the boys.
“NO NORMAL PERSON SHOULD KNOW THAT.” keonho exclaimed.
james nodded sympathetically. “love is beautiful.”
“shut up.”
martin finally held up a beautiful lilac tie toward the light slightly.
“you think she’ll like this color?”
keonho stared at him for a second.
“oh you must really like her, and also it looked lilac enough.”
“shut up and tell me properly,” martin said clearly flushed.
“nothing. just crazy how you asked about the tie like she’s your wife already.” keonho said, the he added "you can always ask arin for fashion opi-"
martin quickly cut him off "no, absolutely not. sorry i dont wanna be judged by a tiny mean girl."
martin rolled his eyes but still looked back down at the tie carefully anyway.
like it mattered more than he wanted it to.
-
prom night at st. augustine’s started six hours before prom actually started.
the girls’ dorm was complete chaos by four in the afternoon.
hair tools everywhere. makeup spilled across desks. dresses hanging from closet doors. somebody screaming about fake eyelashes in the hallway.
and over all of it, vogue by madonna blasting through arin’s speaker because apparently: “prom is about glamour and if i hear one taylor swift song tonight i’m jumping out the window.”
“you say that every week,” ella said while trying to zip up her dress.
“because this school tests me spiritually.”
you sat cross-legged on the floor while hyein carefully curled malia’s hair beside you. yoonchae was laying dramatically across somebody else’s bed scrolling through her phone while insulting every promposal posted on instagram.
“men are actually embarrassing creatures.”
“you literally came with one,” ella reminded her.
“unfortunately.”
arin walked out of the bathroom wearing a silk robe and full makeup like she was entering a fashion campaign.
everyone went silent for a second.
then malia blinked. “you look expensive.”
“i know.”
arin pointed at you immediately. “why are you not dressed yet?”
“because i still have time.”
“wrong answer.”
before you could react, she was already dragging you toward the mirror.
“sit down. if martin edwards faints when he sees you tonight, i want it to be intentional.”
“that was disgusting.”
“thank you.”
meanwhile across campus, the boys’ dorm somehow looked worse.
ties thrown everywhere. dress shirts hanging from ceiling fans. somebody burning something with a hair straightener for reasons nobody understood.
seonghyeon was trying to help keonho with his tie while keonho looked one inconvenience away from crashing out completely.
“if this knot looks ugly arin’s actually gonna leave me.”
“you say that every day.”
“because she threatens me every day.”
james sat on the couch counting cash in the most suspicious way possible.
martin narrowed his eyes. “how much do we need to bribe you?”
james looked up calmly. “depends.”
“for what?”
“depends what crime you’re asking about.”
“alcohol.”
“oh. minimum two hundred.”
“you work here now,” seonghyeon said.
“and yet i still believe in entrepreneurship.”
martin laughed quietly from where he stood in front of the mirror fixing the cuffs of his black suit.
he looked unfair tonight.
plain black suit. white dress shirt. navy tie matching your dress exactly. dark hair slightly messy no matter how many times he tried fixing it.
keonho noticed first. “bro.”
“what?”
“you look nervous.”
“i’m not nervous.”
“you bought her flowers.”
martin glanced toward the bouquet sitting carefully on his desk.
white roses. small lilac flowers tucked between them.
simple. pretty.
you.
“that doesn’t mean anything,” he muttered.
all three boys stared at him.
then woojin spoke carefully: “martin, you literally changed ties three times because you said the lilac ‘felt emotionally incorrect.’”
“…shut up.”
back in the girls’ dorm, you finally stepped out wearing your dress.
silence.
ella looked genuinely shocked. “oh that’s sick actually.”
hyein smiled softly. “you look really pretty.”
even yoonchae paused scrolling through her phone. “martin’s gonna act unbearable tonight.”
arin looked emotional for about two seconds before covering it up immediately.
“okay good. now somebody take pictures before i become evil again.”
-
prom photos at st. augustine’s were somehow more stressful than final exams.
half the parents treated it like a royal wedding while everybody else just tried not to blink at the wrong time.
the courtyard outside the ballroom had been covered in fairy lights and flowers, students everywhere taking photos while teachers pretended not to notice the very obvious alcohol hidden in water bottles already.
the girls arrived together.
which immediately caused a scene.
ella stepped out first in a dark maroon dress, looking like she was about to either break hearts or commit tax fraud.
“if a man talks to me tonight i’m calling security,” she announced.
behind her, hyein and malia walked side by side in matching shades of purple, hyein looking soft and nervous while malia looked completely relaxed about the fact hyein could barely make eye contact with her for longer than three seconds.
yoonchae wore green like she personally invented the color.
“i look better than everybody here,” she said calmly.
“unfortunately true,” ella replied.
then you stepped out.
lilac.
simple. elegant. the kind of dress that didn’t need to beg for attention to get it.
arin came right after you in pink satin, looking genuinely insane in the way rich people in magazines looked insane.
keonho, standing across the courtyard with the boys, visibly lost all ability to function.
“holy shit.”
arin smiled slowly. “there we go.”
“you’re actually the prettiest person i’ve ever seen.”
“i know.”
keonho looked like he might cry from relief when he realized she liked the dress.
“okay,” arin sighed dramatically, fixing his tie for him. “i’ll make out with you later.”
“THANK GOD.”
“ew,” yoonchae muttered.
next to him, seonghyeon immediately spotted ian walking toward him in teal accents matching his tie.
“wait,” seonghyeon blinked. “you actually coordinated?”
ian shrugged. “i can be romantic occasionally.”
“bro i might fall in love with you harder.”
meanwhile juhoon stood quietly beside mili, whose reddish dress matched his tie perfectly.
the two of them somehow looked effortlessly cool without trying.
ella narrowed her eyes at them. “you guys look like a netflix couple.”
“is that an insult?” mili asked.
“yes.”
then martin saw you.
completely saw you.
the noise around him seemed to disappear for a second.
james noticed immediately. “oh he’s DONE.”
martin looked genuinely stunned standing there holding your flowers.
black suit. lilac tie. slightly messy hair. those stupid soft eyes fixed entirely on you.
like you were the only thing in the courtyard worth looking at.
you walked toward him slowly.
martin didn’t even try pretending to act normal.
“wow.”
“that’s your line?”
“sorry, my brain stopped working.”
you rolled your eyes but still took the flowers from his hands carefully.
white roses. small lilac flowers tucked between them.
your favorite colors.
of course he remembered.
“you clean up okay,” you said quietly.
martin laughed softly. “okay is crazy.”
then he leaned down slightly toward you.
“you look unreal.”
something warm twisted painfully in your chest.
because martin always said things like he meant them too much.
around you, cameras flashed constantly while everybody shouted over each other trying to organize group photos.
james was loudly threatening to expose couples with bad chemistry. ella was bullying men recreationally. keonho would not stop staring at arin. hyein looked one compliment away from passing out.
but martin barely noticed any of it.
his hand found yours naturally.
and for the rest of the night, he didn’t let go once.
-
by the time everybody actually made it inside the ballroom, the entire place already felt unreal.
gold lights reflected against the glass walls, music loud enough to shake the floor slightly, students everywhere pretending they weren’t emotional about the fact this was one of the last big nights before graduation.
someone had convinced the school to turn the ceiling into a fake night sky.
it was dramatic. very rich private school.
keonho immediately disappeared with arin toward the dance floor like he’d been waiting his entire life for this exact moment.
“if he starts crying i’m leaving,” arin warned.
“you literally promised to make out with him earlier,” yoonchae said.
“and i’m a woman of my word.”
meanwhile ella had already stolen somebody’s drink and was aggressively interrogating random boys for entertainment.
you stayed near the back of the ballroom for a little while, camera hanging from your wrist automatically out of habit while martin talked to seonghyeon and james nearby.
then martin looked over.
and smiled immediately when he saw you.
god.
it was actually unfair how easily he did that.
he walked toward you through the crowd, black suit slightly messy already, navy tie loosened just enough to make him look softer somehow.
“you’ve been hiding from me all night,” he said.
“i’ve been here the whole time.”
“exactly. tragic.”
you snorted quietly.
martin glanced down at the camera in your hands. “no pictures right now.”
“why?”
instead of answering, he gently took the camera from your hands and placed it down on the nearest table.
then held his hand out toward you.
“come dance with me.”
“martin-”
“please?”
the part of cinderella by mac miller ft ty dolla sign that makes martin feel every emotion ever.
I been waitin' all night for this moment I been waitin' all year for this moment I been picturin' you takin' off your clothes for me I been literally curvin' all these hos for you
martin grinned instantly. “see? even the universe wants me to win.”
“you’re embarrassing.”
“and yet you still like me.”
unfortunately true.
you let him pull you toward the dance floor anyway.
the closer you got, the warmer everything felt. lights blurring together. people laughing too loudly. somebody screaming the lyrics from across the room.
martin’s hands settled carefully at your waist like he was trying not to hold you too tightly.
which almost made it worse.
because martin always touched you like you were something important.
for a little while neither of you spoke.
you just moved slowly together while the noise around you melted into something distant.
martin looked down at you with this strange softness in his eyes.
the kind that made your chest ache if you looked at it too long.
“you know,” he said quietly, “i’ve literally been waiting all night for this moment.”
“dramatic.”
“serious.”
his thumb brushed absentmindedly against your waist.
“been waiting all week actually.”
“that’s worse.”
“i know.”
you laughed softly despite yourself, and martin’s expression changed immediately when he heard it.
like he’d won something.
then more quietly: “you’re happy tonight.”
“maybe.”
“good.”
the way he said it almost sounded relieved.
like your happiness mattered to him more than his own.
around you, everybody else was still chaotic as usual.
keonho and arin were dancing and in their entire world like everyone expected. ella was dancing aggressively with yoonchae while insulting men in between lyrics. james had somehow convinced teachers he was “supervising.” hyein looked like she might faint every time malia touched her hand.
but martin only looked at you.
completely. fully.
like the entire night had narrowed down into this one slow dance.
and for a second, with his forehead resting lightly against yours under all those golden lights, it almost felt dangerous how badly he loved you.
-
the alcohol appeared exactly forty-three minutes into prom.
which honestly had to be a school record.
one second teachers were still pretending everybody was innocent and wholesome, and the next james was mysteriously walking around with a suspiciously heavy duffel bag while students suddenly became way louder than before.
“if any of you idiots get caught,” james warned, handing seonghyeon a bottle, “i was never here.”
“you literally work here,” seonghyeon said.
“exactly. respect my career.”
some poor exhausted teacher near the ballroom entrance rubbed his temples before shouting: “don’t get anyone pregnant and don’t get pregnant please! we cannot repeat last year’s incident!”
the entire room erupted into screaming laughter.
“WHAT HAPPENED LAST YEAR?” somebody yelled.
“WE ARE LEGALLY NOT ALLOWED TO DISCUSS IT.”
martin was already laughing beside you, one hand loosely intertwined with yours while the other held a red plastic cup he definitely wasn’t supposed to have.
his cheeks were slightly pink now. not drunk. just softer around the edges.
you noticed martin got quieter when he drank.
less performative. less school-famous martin edwards.
more just… him.
music shook through the ballroom walls while people danced too close under dim gold lights. somewhere across the room keonho and arin had completely disappeared.
“they’re definitely making out somewhere,” you said.
martin nodded seriously. “probably violating at least three school rules as we speak.”
“only three?”
“fair point.”
he smiled lazily before looking down at your intertwined hands for a second.
and something about his expression changed.
subtle.
but enough for your chest to tighten slightly.
because martin suddenly looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.
the kind of look people in love accidentally gave.
“what?” you asked quietly.
“nothing.”
“martin.”
he shook his head once, smiling to himself a little before pulling you closer through the crowd.
“just… been waiting all night for this.”
the lights blurred around him. navy tie slightly loosened now. hair falling into his eyes. the smell of expensive cologne and alcohol and flowers still clinging faintly to his suit.
you’d kissed martin before.
a lot, actually.
quick kisses between classes. sleepy kisses in dorm hallways. laughing kisses after arguments.
but tonight felt different.
slower.
like the entire evening had been building toward something neither of you were saying out loud.
martin’s thumb brushed against your knuckles absentmindedly.
“c’mere,” he murmured softly.
then he leaned down and kissed you.
gentle at first.
careful.
like he wanted to memorize it.
the noise around you faded almost instantly. just music vibrating through the floor and martin’s hand tightening slightly around yours like he was scared you’d disappear if he let go.
and when you kissed him back, martin actually exhaled against your mouth like relief.
like after a long time of feeling wrong, something finally felt right again.
somewhere in the distance people were screaming lyrics horribly off-key. someone knocked over a drink. ella was loudly threatening violence at a guy who called her “sweetheart.”
but martin barely noticed any of it.
because right now, under all those stupid golden lights, with your lipstick slightly smudged onto his mouth and your hand still in his, martin thought this had to be what love was supposed to feel like.
warm. easy. enough.
for the first time in a long time, he felt okay.
and that scared him more than anything.
-
by the end of the night, prom had dissolved into complete chaos.
heels abandoned under tables. half-empty drink bottles hidden terribly behind decorations. people crying in bathroom stalls over relationships that would probably survive another week maximum.
the fake stars on the ballroom ceiling shut off one by one around two in the morning while exhausted teachers herded students back toward dorm buildings like disappointed babysitters.
outside, the night air felt cold against your skin after hours inside the overheated ballroom.
everyone walked back in loud messy groups, blazers slung over shoulders, makeup slightly ruined, ties loosened.
seonghyeon was leaning dramatically against juhoon while laughing at absolutely nothing. james kept yelling, “if anybody asks, i was at church tonight.” malia and hyein walked suspiciously close together. ella was still ranting about men.
“he asked me if mercury retrograde was a greek god.”
“that’s kinda funny,” you admitted.
“i hate all of you.”
martin walked beside you quietly, fingers brushing against yours every few seconds naturally.
like he couldn’t stop checking you were still there.
before splitting off toward the boys’ dorm, he leaned down close enough for you to smell the alcohol faintly on his breath.
“text me when you get upstairs.”
“you’re literally thirty seconds away.”
“still.”
you rolled your eyes. “okay.”
martin smiled softly at that.
the girls’ dorm immediately exploded into noise the second everybody got inside.
heels kicked off. makeup wipes everywhere. someone stealing snacks from the communal kitchen.
yoonchae collapsed face-first onto her bed dramatically. “i survived another social event. unfortunately.”
ella pointed toward malia and hyein. “you two were looking at each other like lesbians in a coming-of-age film all night.”
hyein nearly choked to death.
“ELLA.”
“what? i support women.”
then the dorm room door opened again.
arin walked in late.
very late.
hair slightly messy. pink lipstick smudged. keonho’s blazer hanging over her shoulders instead of hers.
silence.
everybody stared.
arin blinked once slowly. “…don’t.”
ella sat up immediately. “OH MY GOD.”
“nothing happened.”
“you look like something absolutely happened.”
arin threw a pillow directly at her. “shut up.”
yoonchae narrowed her eyes. “you committed crimes tonight.”
“multiple.”
“disgusting.”
arin tried failing to hide a smile while taking off her earrings. “keonho almost cried because i said i loved him.”
ella gasped theatrically. “oh you’re serious serious.”
“unfortunately.”
meanwhile across campus, the boys’ dorm somehow looked even worse.
someone had stolen a traffic cone. nobody knew why. there was music playing too loudly from seonghyeon’s speaker while woojin ate instant noodles directly from the pot.
keonho was currently pacing around the room recounting his crimes proudly.
“okay so technically we broke curfew, snuck alcohol into school property, made out in the art hallway, bribed james, and i’m pretty sure arin stole a centerpiece.”
“worth it,” james said immediately.
“absolutely worth it.”
seonghyeon pointed toward him accusingly. “bro you literally disappeared for like an hour.”
“you’re sickening.”
through all of it, martin stayed unusually quiet.
sitting on the edge of his bed still wearing half his suit, navy tie loosened around his neck, staring down at his phone.
juhoon noticed first.
“you okay?”
martin looked up slowly. “yeah.”
lie.
because underneath the warmth still lingering in his chest from tonight, something else had started creeping in quietly.
something colder.
that familiar feeling.
the one that always came after he got too happy.
like eventually something would ruin it. like good things never stayed long enough. like he was already counting down to losing this somehow.
martin looked back down at the photo saved on his phone from earlier tonight.
you standing under golden lights in that navy blue dress smiling slightly at the camera.
pretty enough to hurt.
his chest tightened strangely.
because for a few hours tonight, everything had felt perfect.
and martin didn’t trust perfect things to stay.
the end.
thank you for reading if you have finished it. i want to post a part two thats inspired but the cure by olivia rodrigo. © THIS WORK BELONGS TO RINISLOSTINANOTHERPLANET
엄성현 - overdrive !
sypnosis when keonho posts a picture of his sister and seonghyeon, his bestfriend suddenly forgets how to act.
pairing non idol!eom seonghyeon x keonho's sister!reader. reader portrayed as stella from hearts2hearts. ahn keonho! as readers brother.
warnings ! alot of swearing, attempts at humour, gay jokes, seonghyeon is down bad and its very obvious. do not mind the timestamps pls!!
a/n hello everyone!! this is my first ever au on this account and its genuinely something i came up with quick but i really do hope you enjoy it!! if you have any other smau ideas pls request bc im so down for anything. part 2 will be out in a while (will link it here when im finished)!! thank you sm and enjoy ❤
comment to be in the taglist !!

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unbearable – kim ryul
i present to you, a part two of this <3
genre : angst, slowburn(kinda?), romance, friends to lovers, ryul × reader, bestfriend!ryul × reader
summary : when your best friend ryul kisses you on the cheek one night, it sets off a chain reaction you can't control. suddenly, every touch feels intentional, every glance feels loaded with meaning, and the line between friendship and something more becomes dangerously blurred.
word count : 2k
warning(s) : mutual pining, some curse words here & there, please forgive mee if there are any typos (^-^)
· · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ·
for the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. the kiss he planted on your cheek. which is ridiculous, because a kiss on the cheek doesn't really mean anything right?
but somehow, your brain keeps replaying it anyway. the warmth of his lips against your cheek, the way he looked at you afterward, and the stupid grin that spreads across his face while you were actively trying not to combust right in front of him.
it was bad. very bad. because now, every little thing he did felt worse somehow. or better? honestly, you couldn’t tell anymore. because all you knew was that ryul had become completely unbearable after that night.
୨ৎ late nights with ryul
ryul lays down on the bed, the clock is almost hitting midnight, exhastion wears him down after a long day. you lay in his arms, unmoving and limp, every few minutes you shift slightly, getting closer until you physically couldn't anymore.
the arm that was under your frame and wrapped around you kept moving up and down the expanse of your back ghostly with the tips of his fingers over your thin shirt. you don't know if it's making you shiver or making you more drowsy.