he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
will byers stan first human second
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@2xred
WHO ARE YOU?
polka dots. enhypen. wired headphones. acrylic nails. cortis. 2008. concerts. she/her. lngshot. staying up til 3am. piercings. nishimura riki. european. curly hair. future doctor. bangles. trinket-lover. intp.
masterlist - est. 2026
y'all don't understand this I'm down so bad for this man
⊹ 𓈒 ᨳ ˓𓄹 Jᥙhoon ☆◡ Moodboard 𓈒 ᨳ ˓𓄹 ꒰⋆ Ი⑅𐑼 ꒱
2 HANDS — i want them all to see, you look good on top of me
synopsis; james has never been good at hiding things — especially not her. and with every touch caught on camera, every lingering hand during choreography, and every risky glance backstage, keeping their relationship secret starts to feel impossible.
tags; 6thmember!reader x james kinda angsty kissing slightly suggestive?
notes; i was listening to 2 hands by tate mcrae and got the urge to write abt it, idk really know if i like it though
james had gotten careless lately.
not careless enough for anyone else to notice yet. but enough for you to fear it constantly.
his hand lingering too long on your waist during interviews. fingers hooking absentmindedly into the sleeve of your hoodie whenever staff crowded too close around you. sitting beside you during lives even when there were other empty spots available.
small things.
dangerous things.
and the worst part?
sometimes it genuinely felt like he wanted people to notice.
“stop looking at me like that.”
your voice came out quieter than intended as you adjusted the in-ear monitors around your neck.
across the backstage waiting room, james barely reacted. sprawled lazily across the couch in stage clothes and messy dark hair, he only continued staring at you with that same unreadable expression he’d had all evening.
“like what?”
you resisted the urge to sigh. “you know exactly what.”
his mouth twitched slightly.
there were staff members moving around everywhere. makeup artists. managers. camera operators preparing for the behind-the-scenes content they’d film before the showcase started.
too many people.
which apparently meant absolutely nothing to james tonight.
because when you walked past the couch toward the water cooler, his fingers brushed deliberately against your wrist.
not accidental.
never accidental.
your steps faltered for half a second before continuing.
from behind you, you heard him laugh quietly under his breath.
asshole.
the showcase itself passed in a blur of bright lights and deafening music. by the end of the final performance, sweat clung to the back of your neck and your lungs burned from dancing.
still, you barely had time to breathe before cameras were shoved in front of your faces again for ending ment recordings.
the members crowded together automatically while staff adjusted microphones and checked lighting.
you positioned yourself carefully near the end of the line.
away from james.
or at least, you tried to.
because less than ten seconds later, he appeared beside you anyway.
of course he did.
his shoulder bumped lightly against yours as the cameras started rolling.
you kept your smile perfectly practiced.
“thank you for supporting our comeback—”
warm fingers suddenly settled against the small of your back.
your entire body tensed.
not visibly. hopefully.
but james noticed.
he always noticed.
his expression remained completely calm for the cameras while his thumb pressed lightly once against your waist through the thin fabric of your stage outfit.
way too familiar.
way too comfortable.
panic flickered briefly beneath your ribs.
there were cameras everywhere.
fans would analyze everything.
and james,
james didn’t move his hand away.
by the time filming ended, your nerves were completely shot.
you barely waited for staff to finish speaking before grabbing your hoodie and disappearing down the nearest backstage hallway.
footsteps followed almost immediately.
obviously.
“hey.”
you ignored him.
“seriously?”
the moment you reached one of the darker side hallways near the dressing rooms, james caught your wrist lightly.
you turned around instantly. “what is wrong with you lately?”
his brows pulled together slightly. “what are you talking about?”
you stared at him in disbelief.
“you had your hand on my waist in front of like twenty cameras.”
“it wasn’t a big deal.”
a humorless laugh escaped you immediately.
“for you maybe.”
that finally made him pause.
the irritation sitting beneath your skin suddenly felt heavier all at once.
“you don’t get it,” you said quietly. “if people find out about us, you’re not the one they’re going to destroy first.”
his expression shifted immediately.
but now that you’d started talking, you couldn’t really stop.
“you’re allowed to get away with things.” your voice dropped lower. “fans will still love you. they’ll joke about it. they’ll say it’s cute or whatever.” you swallowed once. “but me?”
silence.
“they’ll blame me for everything.”
the hallway suddenly felt too small.
james looked at you like he’d never properly considered it before. which honestly just made something twist painfully in your chest.
“you think i don’t know that?” he asked quietly.
“then why do you keep acting like this?”
for a second, he didn’t answer.
his jaw tightened faintly before he looked away down the empty hallway.
when he finally spoke again, his voice sounded tired.
“because i’m sick of pretending you mean less to me than you do.”
that hit harder than it should have.
your breath caught slightly.
he stepped closer slowly this time. careful enough that you could’ve moved away if you wanted to.
you didn’t.
“all day i have to act like touching you is some horrible thing,” he murmured. “like you’re just another member.”
his hand slid carefully against your waist again.
gentler now.
worse somehow.
“and then you spend the entire night avoiding me.”
you hated how guilty that made you feel.
“i’m trying to protect us.”
“i know.”
his thumb brushed once beneath the hem of your hoodie, fingertips warm against your skin now.
your heartbeat stuttered immediately.
“but sometimes i want people to know,” he admitted softly. “just once.”
the honesty in his voice hurt.
because part of you wanted that too.
wanted to hold his hand in public without panicking afterward. wanted to lean against him during lives instead of calculating camera angles. wanted him to touch you without immediately thinking about headlines and comments and scandals.
wanted normal.
which was probably the miserable part of all this.
your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie.
“james…”
his eyes dropped to your mouth instantly.
there it is.
that look.
the one that always ruined your ability to think properly.
“tell me to stop,” he murmured quietly.
except both of you already knew you wouldn’t.
his hand slid up slowly until it rested against your jaw before he kissed you.
desperate this time.
not messy. not rushed.
just painfully full of everything he’d clearly been holding back for weeks.
your back hit the wall softly behind you as his other hand settled firmly against your waist, pulling you closer instinctively. the second you kissed him back, a quiet breath left him against your mouth like relief.
like finally.
his thumb brushed against your jaw while your fingers pushed into his hair, and for a few seconds the entire world outside the hallway disappeared completely.
no cameras.
no fans.
no staff.
just him.
then voices echoed faintly from somewhere nearby.
both of you pulled apart immediately.
your breathing was uneven. his was worse.
for a moment, neither of you spoke.
then james rested his forehead briefly against yours and laughed softly under his breath.
“we’re really bad at this.”
you let out a shaky laugh despite yourself.
“you’re bad at this.”
“and yet,” he murmured, lips brushing dangerously close to yours again, “you still kiss me back every time.”
@2xred - all rights reserved.
2 HANDS — i want them all to see, you look good on top of me
synopsis; james has never been good at hiding things — especially not her. and with every touch caught on camera, every lingering hand during choreography, and every risky glance backstage, keeping their relationship secret starts to feel impossible.
tags; 6thmember!reader x james kinda angsty kissing slightly suggestive?
notes; i was listening to 2 hands by tate mcrae and got the urge to write abt it, idk really know if i like it though
james had gotten careless lately.
not careless enough for anyone else to notice yet. but enough for you to fear it constantly.
his hand lingering too long on your waist during interviews. fingers hooking absentmindedly into the sleeve of your hoodie whenever staff crowded too close around you. sitting beside you during lives even when there were other empty spots available.
small things.
dangerous things.
and the worst part?
sometimes it genuinely felt like he wanted people to notice.
“stop looking at me like that.”
your voice came out quieter than intended as you adjusted the in-ear monitors around your neck.
across the backstage waiting room, james barely reacted. sprawled lazily across the couch in stage clothes and messy dark hair, he only continued staring at you with that same unreadable expression he’d had all evening.
“like what?”
you resisted the urge to sigh. “you know exactly what.”
his mouth twitched slightly.
there were staff members moving around everywhere. makeup artists. managers. camera operators preparing for the behind-the-scenes content they’d film before the showcase started.
too many people.
which apparently meant absolutely nothing to james tonight.
because when you walked past the couch toward the water cooler, his fingers brushed deliberately against your wrist.
not accidental.
never accidental.
your steps faltered for half a second before continuing.
from behind you, you heard him laugh quietly under his breath.
asshole.
the showcase itself passed in a blur of bright lights and deafening music. by the end of the final performance, sweat clung to the back of your neck and your lungs burned from dancing.
still, you barely had time to breathe before cameras were shoved in front of your faces again for ending ment recordings.
the members crowded together automatically while staff adjusted microphones and checked lighting.
you positioned yourself carefully near the end of the line.
away from james.
or at least, you tried to.
because less than ten seconds later, he appeared beside you anyway.
of course he did.
his shoulder bumped lightly against yours as the cameras started rolling.
you kept your smile perfectly practiced.
“thank you for supporting our comeback—”
warm fingers suddenly settled against the small of your back.
your entire body tensed.
not visibly. hopefully.
but james noticed.
he always noticed.
his expression remained completely calm for the cameras while his thumb pressed lightly once against your waist through the thin fabric of your stage outfit.
way too familiar.
way too comfortable.
panic flickered briefly beneath your ribs.
there were cameras everywhere.
fans would analyze everything.
and james,
james didn’t move his hand away.
by the time filming ended, your nerves were completely shot.
you barely waited for staff to finish speaking before grabbing your hoodie and disappearing down the nearest backstage hallway.
footsteps followed almost immediately.
obviously.
“hey.”
you ignored him.
“seriously?”
the moment you reached one of the darker side hallways near the dressing rooms, james caught your wrist lightly.
you turned around instantly. “what is wrong with you lately?”
his brows pulled together slightly. “what are you talking about?”
you stared at him in disbelief.
“you had your hand on my waist in front of like twenty cameras.”
“it wasn’t a big deal.”
a humorless laugh escaped you immediately.
“for you maybe.”
that finally made him pause.
the irritation sitting beneath your skin suddenly felt heavier all at once.
“you don’t get it,” you said quietly. “if people find out about us, you’re not the one they’re going to destroy first.”
his expression shifted immediately.
but now that you’d started talking, you couldn’t really stop.
“you’re allowed to get away with things.” your voice dropped lower. “fans will still love you. they’ll joke about it. they’ll say it’s cute or whatever.” you swallowed once. “but me?”
silence.
“they’ll blame me for everything.”
the hallway suddenly felt too small.
james looked at you like he’d never properly considered it before. which honestly just made something twist painfully in your chest.
“you think i don’t know that?” he asked quietly.
“then why do you keep acting like this?”
for a second, he didn’t answer.
his jaw tightened faintly before he looked away down the empty hallway.
when he finally spoke again, his voice sounded tired.
“because i’m sick of pretending you mean less to me than you do.”
that hit harder than it should have.
your breath caught slightly.
he stepped closer slowly this time. careful enough that you could’ve moved away if you wanted to.
you didn’t.
“all day i have to act like touching you is some horrible thing,” he murmured. “like you’re just another member.”
his hand slid carefully against your waist again.
gentler now.
worse somehow.
“and then you spend the entire night avoiding me.”
you hated how guilty that made you feel.
“i’m trying to protect us.”
“i know.”
his thumb brushed once beneath the hem of your hoodie, fingertips warm against your skin now.
your heartbeat stuttered immediately.
“but sometimes i want people to know,” he admitted softly. “just once.”
the honesty in his voice hurt.
because part of you wanted that too.
wanted to hold his hand in public without panicking afterward. wanted to lean against him during lives instead of calculating camera angles. wanted him to touch you without immediately thinking about headlines and comments and scandals.
wanted normal.
which was probably the miserable part of all this.
your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie.
“james…”
his eyes dropped to your mouth instantly.
there it is.
that look.
the one that always ruined your ability to think properly.
“tell me to stop,” he murmured quietly.
except both of you already knew you wouldn’t.
his hand slid up slowly until it rested against your jaw before he kissed you.
desperate this time.
not messy. not rushed.
just painfully full of everything he’d clearly been holding back for weeks.
your back hit the wall softly behind you as his other hand settled firmly against your waist, pulling you closer instinctively. the second you kissed him back, a quiet breath left him against your mouth like relief.
like finally.
his thumb brushed against your jaw while your fingers pushed into his hair, and for a few seconds the entire world outside the hallway disappeared completely.
no cameras.
no fans.
no staff.
just him.
then voices echoed faintly from somewhere nearby.
both of you pulled apart immediately.
your breathing was uneven. his was worse.
for a moment, neither of you spoke.
then james rested his forehead briefly against yours and laughed softly under his breath.
“we’re really bad at this.”
you let out a shaky laugh despite yourself.
“you’re bad at this.”
“and yet,” he murmured, lips brushing dangerously close to yours again, “you still kiss me back every time.”
@2xred - all rights reserved.
ALMOST, ALWAYS
synopsis; after years of almosts, awkward reunions, and unfinished conversations at parties, you somehow always end up finding martin again.
tags; reader x nonidol!martin au partying martin tries to be nonchalant alcohol mentioned kissing reader is kinda insecure
wc; 2.6k
notes; aggh i spent the last few days debating whether i should publish this bc it’s lowkey a bit boring and also kinda inspired by my real life ?? 😭 anyway i decided to publish it anyway bc i’m still lacking ideas rn (reqs are open!!), hope you guys still like it !
you weren’t supposed to be this attached.
that was probably the weirdest part.
the first time you saw him, it had barely even counted as meeting.
just one of those random summer parties near the lake where nobody really knew whose party it was anymore. music playing from a speaker that kept cutting out every ten minutes. people sitting on blankets in the grass. half the group already tipsy before it was even dark outside.
you had been sitting cross-legged near the water with a drink in your hand, half listening to a conversation happening around you.
someone was talking about celebrity lookalikes.
“no because some people genuinely have faces that feel like a déjà vu,” your friend insisted.
“that’s literally just recognizing facial features,” another guy said.
“shut up.”
you laughed quietly to yourself before your eyes drifted across the group for a second.
and stopped.
there was a weirdly tall guy sitting a little farther back near the cooler. black hoodie despite the warm weather. sleeves pushed up slightly. listening more than talking.
you didn’t know his name. but something about him felt familiar in the most annoying way possible. before thinking too hard, you pointed lazily in his direction.
“you.”
he looked up.
you squinted at him dramatically. “you look exactly like someone i know.”
a few people turned toward him immediately.
he blinked once. “do i?”
“mhm.” you narrowed your eyes harder like that would help. “wait. no. maybe not exactly.”
“that’s reassuring.”
a laugh slipped out of the group.
you shifted backward slightly in the grass while still staring at him, completely missing the fact that you were dangerously close to the edge of the small slope leading down toward the water.
someone made a noise.
your balance tilted for half a second.
and suddenly his hand was there near your arm instinctively, like he was already prepared to catch you if you fell.
“wow,” he laughed under his breath.
you froze.
then immediately sat back upright like nothing happened.
“that was intentional.”
“obviously,” he said.
you could hear the smile in his voice even though he looked away right after.
and for some reason, that tiny interaction stayed in your head way longer than it should have.
you saw him again almost a year later.
birthday party this time.
small house. louder music. warmer lighting.
you recognized him instantly.
which annoyed you a little.
he was standing near the “bar” when you arrived, talking to someone with a red cup in his hand, and for one embarrassing second your brain went completely blank trying to remember if you had ever actually learned his name.
then he looked over.
and smiled slightly.
like he remembered you too.
great.
“lake girl,” he said when you walked over later.
you stared at him. “oh my god.”
“almost-fell-into-the-water girl, actually.”
“that’s worse.”
“more accurate though.”
you hated that he looked pleased with himself.
after that, conversation just… happened.
easier than before.
you were a little drunk, but not enough to completely embarrass yourself this time.
mostly.
your best friend had spent the entire night talking about her crush, who unfortunately happened to be one of your childhood friends.
so naturally, you took it upon yourself to intervene.
which was how you ended up sitting beside said childhood friend later in the evening, aggressively trying to convince him that your best friend was “mysterious in an emotionally interesting way.”
martin had somehow ended up sitting nearby during all of this.
quietly listening.
occasionally laughing into his drink.
“you’re making this worse for her,” he said at one point.
you gasped. “i’m helping.”
“are you?”
“absolutely.”
your childhood friend looked exhausted. “please stop talking about me like i’m on a dating show.”
you ignored him completely.
eventually your best friend had to leave early because her parents were picking her up.
which left you still sitting there with your childhood friend while martin leaned against the counter nearby listening to the conversation drift into random late-night nonsense.
at some point you looked over at him.
“you’re being weirdly quiet.”
he shrugged slightly. “i think you talk enough for all three of us.”
“rude.”
“true though.”
you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.
later, when you finally had to leave too, he walked you outside without really saying anything about it first.
the night air felt colder than before.
you could hear music faintly through the walls behind you while you walked toward the street where your dad’s car was waiting.
“i think your matchmaking career might be over,” martin said.
you looked at him in disbelief. “why are you against love.”
“i’m against whatever that was.”
“you just don’t understand my vision.”
“clearly.”
you laughed quietly.
and then there was one of those pauses.
the dangerous kind.
where suddenly you became way too aware of him walking beside you.
when the car headlights came into view, both of you slowed slightly without meaning to.
he stopped just before the sidewalk.
close enough to still feel near.
far enough to not make it obvious.
“bye, lake girl,” he said.
you groaned immediately. “that nickname needs to die.”
his mouth twitched slightly. “i’ll think about it.”
then he opened his arms slightly like he wasn’t fully sure if he should.
you hugged him anyway.
quick.
awkward enough to feel real.
and afterward you spent the entire drive home staring out the window pretending your chest didn’t feel weird.
after that, everything turned into almosts.
seeing him across parties.
small conversations that never lasted long enough.
thinking about texting him despite not actually having his number.
and every single time you saw him, it still felt strangely important.
which was honestly irritating.
halloween was a disaster.
completely.
you had spent nearly an hour stressing over your costume because apparently your brain had decided the possibility of martin being there was enough to ruin your emotional stability.
which was stupid.
because he probably didn’t care.
and then of course he was there.
standing near the drinks table talking to someone while orange lights flickered across the room.
you tried to act normal when you walked over.
you failed almost immediately.
“hi,” you said.
smooth.
he looked up.
and there it was again.
that tiny expression change whenever he saw you.
small enough that you could’ve imagined it.
“hi,” he replied.
you nodded awkwardly. “cool party.”
what were you even saying.
“mhm.”
“costume’s nice.”
he glanced down at himself. “thanks?”
silence.
oh god.
you laughed nervously and immediately reached for your drink again.
martin watched you for a second like he wanted to say something else.
but someone interrupted before he could.
and for the rest of the night, every interaction with him felt slightly off rhythm.
not bad.
just unfinished.
you went home convinced he probably thought you were ridiculous.
meanwhile, he spent the entire night replaying every awkward thing you said because he thought you looked cute when you got nervous.
obviously neither of you knew that.
weeks later, another friend invited you to a birthday party.
“whose birthday?”
she hesitated for literally half a second too long.
“…martin’s.”
your stomach dropped instantly.
which was annoying.
because now suddenly every outfit you owned looked ugly.
and the fact that it was a pool party made everything worse somehow.
you spent an unreasonable amount of time staring at yourself in the mirror before leaving.
too much.
too little.
too plain.
too obvious.
eventually you gave up entirely.
the party itself was calmer than you expected.
people sitting near the pool with drinks in their hands. music low enough that conversations could exist without shouting. lights reflecting against the water.
you spotted him almost immediately.
of course you did.
he was standing near the back patio talking to two people when his eyes lifted.
and landed on you.
you watched the exact moment recognition hit his face.
followed immediately by something softer.
something he covered up way too fast.
“you came,” he said later when you finally ended up near him.
surprised.
or at least pretending to be.
“yeah,” you answered casually. you tried to form words, nothing coming out though.
he laughed quietly.
and you noticed his fingers tapping once against the side of his cup.
nervous.
that realization hit you so suddenly it almost threw you off balance.
martin was nervous too.
he just hid it better.
later, the air got colder.
most people drifted back toward the pool while you slipped inside the house for a minute to warm up.
the kitchen was empty.
quiet.
you leaned against the counter with your phone in your hand, trying very hard not to think about the fact that you were currently at your almost-crush’s birthday party acting completely normal about it.
footsteps sounded behind you a minute later.
you already knew who it was before turning around.
martin walked in carrying two drinks.
he stopped slightly when he saw you there alone.
then held one out toward you.
“you disappeared.”
you took the cup carefully. “i was cold.”
“that’s tragic.”
“i know.”
he leaned against the counter beside you.
closer than before.
not close enough to touch.
just enough to make you hyperaware of it.
outside, people laughed somewhere near the pool.
inside, everything felt quieter.
“you know,” you said eventually, staring down at your drink, “i thought after halloween you probably never wanted to talk to me again.”
martin turned his head immediately. “what?”
you cringed slightly. “i was weird.”
“you’re always weird.”
“that’s not comforting.”
he laughed softly.
then his expression shifted slightly when he looked at you again.
“i thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”
you blinked. “why would you think that?”
he shrugged once, but it looked forced. “i don’t know. you always seem nervous around me.”
oh.
OH.
you stared at him for a second too long.
and he noticed.
because suddenly he looked away first.
there it is.
he was nervous.
you could literally see it now.
the tapping fingers. the avoiding eye contact after saying too much. the way he kept smiling slightly after you spoke like he regretted it immediately afterward.
your chest tightened dangerously.
“maybe i am nervous,” you admitted quietly.
his eyes flicked back to yours.
“why?”
you laughed once under your breath. “martin.”
“what?”
“be serious.”
he looked at you for a second.
then smiled slightly.
teasing.
but his ears were turning red.
oh my god.
“wait,” you narrowed your eyes. “you’re nervous too.”
“am not.”
“you literally are.”
“prove it.”
you stared at him.
he stared back.
and the silence changed shape completely.
suddenly too warm.
too close.
martin looked down briefly before speaking again, quieter this time.
“you know i can still leave right now.”
your breath caught slightly.
there it was.
not exactly asking.
but asking anyway.
you looked at him.
really looked at him.
nervous despite pretending not to be.
waiting.
and you realized suddenly that he’d probably been waiting for a while.
so instead of answering, you stepped closer.
just a little.
his eyes dropped to your mouth instantly.
“martin,” you said softly.
“mhm?”
“stop acting like you don’t know.”
that finally broke him.
he laughed quietly once, almost disbelieving, before one hand moved carefully to your waist.
he stayed there for a second like he was still giving you time to change your mind.
you didn’t.
if anything, you moved closer first.
and something in his expression softened instantly when he noticed.
like that had been the final thing he needed.
“okay,” he murmured quietly.
then he kissed you.
soft at first.
careful enough that it almost didn’t feel real.
his hand tightened slightly against your waist the second your lips touched his, like he’d been holding himself back longer than you realized. you could feel the nervousness in it. the hesitation.
which honestly made your chest ache more than if he’d been confident.
because martin was nervous.
about you.
the thought barely had time to settle before he kissed you again properly.
slower this time.
closer.
your fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of his hoodie near his chest, and you felt the tiny breath that left him against your mouth at the movement.
god.
outside, someone shouted near the pool.
music drifted faintly through the open back door.
but it all felt far away now.
the kitchen light above you buzzed softly while martin tilted his head slightly, kissing you like he was still half surprised you were letting him.
like he’d imagined this before but didn’t fully trust it yet.
your hand slid higher against his chest before resting near the back of his neck, and the second your fingers brushed lightly through his hair, he stopped breathing for half a second.
there it is.
you almost smiled into the kiss.
almost.
instead you felt his hand pull you a little closer instinctively, your hip bumping softly against the counter behind you.
the movement made him pause for just a second.
“sorry,” he muttered quietly against your lips.
you let out the tiniest laugh. “for what?”
his forehead rested briefly against yours while he tried to recover.
“i don’t know.”
that made your chest hurt in the worst way.
because suddenly he didn’t feel calm anymore.
he felt nervous.
careful.
trying very hard not to mess this up.
you looked at him properly then.
his hair slightly messy now. lips pink. eyes darker than before but still soft around the edges.
and he was looking at you like he was waiting for reassurance without wanting to ask for it directly.
so you gave it to him.
you kissed him first this time.
and the reaction was immediate.
his hand at your waist tightened again before sliding slightly around your side, pulling you closer without hesitation now. a quiet breath escaped him against your mouth, almost relieved, and the teasing expression he usually hid behind disappeared completely for a second.
the kiss deepened naturally after that.
not rushed.
not messy.
just slow and warm and months — maybe even years — of tension finally having somewhere to go.
every time you pulled back slightly, he followed instinctively.
like he couldn’t help it.
like he’d already spent too much time pretending he didn’t want this.
your fingers slipped properly into his hair now, and martin actually laughed softly against your lips at that.
“you’re doing that on purpose,” he murmured.
“doing what?”
“making this worse.”
“worse for who?”
his eyes flicked down to your mouth again.
then back up.
“me.”
the way he said it made heat rush straight to your face.
you hated that he noticed immediately.
his smile returned slightly at that.
small.
fond.
a little dangerous.
“oh my god,” you muttered. “you know exactly what you’re doing now.”
“not really,” he admitted quietly.
and weirdly enough, that felt more honest than anything else.
because underneath all the teasing, all the pretending, you could still feel how nervous he was.
the slight tension in his shoulders.
the way his thumb kept moving absentmindedly against your waist.
the tiny pause before every kiss like he still couldn’t believe he was allowed to.
you leaned closer again until your foreheads touched briefly.
“you’re shaking a little,” you whispered.
martin let out a quiet laugh through his nose. “this is embarrassing.”
“for you maybe.”
“you were definitely nervous first.”
“true.”
“see?”
you smiled slightly.
then kissed him again before he could keep talking.
that finally shut him up.
for a moment he just melted into it completely, one hand sliding up carefully along your side like he was trying to memorize the feeling of you standing this close.
and honestly?
if he kept looking at you like that, you were pretty sure you’d let him kiss you forever.
@2xred — all rights reserved.
ALMOST, ALWAYS
synopsis; after years of almosts, awkward reunions, and unfinished conversations at parties, you somehow always end up finding martin again.
tags; reader x nonidol!martin au partying martin tries to be nonchalant alcohol mentioned kissing reader is kinda insecure
wc; 2.6k
notes; aggh i spent the last few days debating whether i should publish this bc it’s lowkey a bit boring and also kinda inspired by my real life ?? 😭 anyway i decided to publish it anyway bc i’m still lacking ideas rn (reqs are open!!), hope you guys still like it !
you weren’t supposed to be this attached.
that was probably the weirdest part.
the first time you saw him, it had barely even counted as meeting.
just one of those random summer parties near the lake where nobody really knew whose party it was anymore. music playing from a speaker that kept cutting out every ten minutes. people sitting on blankets in the grass. half the group already tipsy before it was even dark outside.
you had been sitting cross-legged near the water with a drink in your hand, half listening to a conversation happening around you.
someone was talking about celebrity lookalikes.
“no because some people genuinely have faces that feel like a déjà vu,” your friend insisted.
“that’s literally just recognizing facial features,” another guy said.
“shut up.”
you laughed quietly to yourself before your eyes drifted across the group for a second.
and stopped.
there was a weirdly tall guy sitting a little farther back near the cooler. black hoodie despite the warm weather. sleeves pushed up slightly. listening more than talking.
you didn’t know his name. but something about him felt familiar in the most annoying way possible. before thinking too hard, you pointed lazily in his direction.
“you.”
he looked up.
you squinted at him dramatically. “you look exactly like someone i know.”
a few people turned toward him immediately.
he blinked once. “do i?”
“mhm.” you narrowed your eyes harder like that would help. “wait. no. maybe not exactly.”
“that’s reassuring.”
a laugh slipped out of the group.
you shifted backward slightly in the grass while still staring at him, completely missing the fact that you were dangerously close to the edge of the small slope leading down toward the water.
someone made a noise.
your balance tilted for half a second.
and suddenly his hand was there near your arm instinctively, like he was already prepared to catch you if you fell.
“wow,” he laughed under his breath.
you froze.
then immediately sat back upright like nothing happened.
“that was intentional.”
“obviously,” he said.
you could hear the smile in his voice even though he looked away right after.
and for some reason, that tiny interaction stayed in your head way longer than it should have.
you saw him again almost a year later.
birthday party this time.
small house. louder music. warmer lighting.
you recognized him instantly.
which annoyed you a little.
he was standing near the “bar” when you arrived, talking to someone with a red cup in his hand, and for one embarrassing second your brain went completely blank trying to remember if you had ever actually learned his name.
then he looked over.
and smiled slightly.
like he remembered you too.
great.
“lake girl,” he said when you walked over later.
you stared at him. “oh my god.”
“almost-fell-into-the-water girl, actually.”
“that’s worse.”
“more accurate though.”
you hated that he looked pleased with himself.
after that, conversation just… happened.
easier than before.
you were a little drunk, but not enough to completely embarrass yourself this time.
mostly.
your best friend had spent the entire night talking about her crush, who unfortunately happened to be one of your childhood friends.
so naturally, you took it upon yourself to intervene.
which was how you ended up sitting beside said childhood friend later in the evening, aggressively trying to convince him that your best friend was “mysterious in an emotionally interesting way.”
martin had somehow ended up sitting nearby during all of this.
quietly listening.
occasionally laughing into his drink.
“you’re making this worse for her,” he said at one point.
you gasped. “i’m helping.”
“are you?”
“absolutely.”
your childhood friend looked exhausted. “please stop talking about me like i’m on a dating show.”
you ignored him completely.
eventually your best friend had to leave early because her parents were picking her up.
which left you still sitting there with your childhood friend while martin leaned against the counter nearby listening to the conversation drift into random late-night nonsense.
at some point you looked over at him.
“you’re being weirdly quiet.”
he shrugged slightly. “i think you talk enough for all three of us.”
“rude.”
“true though.”
you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.
later, when you finally had to leave too, he walked you outside without really saying anything about it first.
the night air felt colder than before.
you could hear music faintly through the walls behind you while you walked toward the street where your dad’s car was waiting.
“i think your matchmaking career might be over,” martin said.
you looked at him in disbelief. “why are you against love.”
“i’m against whatever that was.”
“you just don’t understand my vision.”
“clearly.”
you laughed quietly.
and then there was one of those pauses.
the dangerous kind.
where suddenly you became way too aware of him walking beside you.
when the car headlights came into view, both of you slowed slightly without meaning to.
he stopped just before the sidewalk.
close enough to still feel near.
far enough to not make it obvious.
“bye, lake girl,” he said.
you groaned immediately. “that nickname needs to die.”
his mouth twitched slightly. “i’ll think about it.”
then he opened his arms slightly like he wasn’t fully sure if he should.
you hugged him anyway.
quick.
awkward enough to feel real.
and afterward you spent the entire drive home staring out the window pretending your chest didn’t feel weird.
after that, everything turned into almosts.
seeing him across parties.
small conversations that never lasted long enough.
thinking about texting him despite not actually having his number.
and every single time you saw him, it still felt strangely important.
which was honestly irritating.
halloween was a disaster.
completely.
you had spent nearly an hour stressing over your costume because apparently your brain had decided the possibility of martin being there was enough to ruin your emotional stability.
which was stupid.
because he probably didn’t care.
and then of course he was there.
standing near the drinks table talking to someone while orange lights flickered across the room.
you tried to act normal when you walked over.
you failed almost immediately.
“hi,” you said.
smooth.
he looked up.
and there it was again.
that tiny expression change whenever he saw you.
small enough that you could’ve imagined it.
“hi,” he replied.
you nodded awkwardly. “cool party.”
what were you even saying.
“mhm.”
“costume’s nice.”
he glanced down at himself. “thanks?”
silence.
oh god.
you laughed nervously and immediately reached for your drink again.
martin watched you for a second like he wanted to say something else.
but someone interrupted before he could.
and for the rest of the night, every interaction with him felt slightly off rhythm.
not bad.
just unfinished.
you went home convinced he probably thought you were ridiculous.
meanwhile, he spent the entire night replaying every awkward thing you said because he thought you looked cute when you got nervous.
obviously neither of you knew that.
weeks later, another friend invited you to a birthday party.
“whose birthday?”
she hesitated for literally half a second too long.
“…martin’s.”
your stomach dropped instantly.
which was annoying.
because now suddenly every outfit you owned looked ugly.
and the fact that it was a pool party made everything worse somehow.
you spent an unreasonable amount of time staring at yourself in the mirror before leaving.
too much.
too little.
too plain.
too obvious.
eventually you gave up entirely.
the party itself was calmer than you expected.
people sitting near the pool with drinks in their hands. music low enough that conversations could exist without shouting. lights reflecting against the water.
you spotted him almost immediately.
of course you did.
he was standing near the back patio talking to two people when his eyes lifted.
and landed on you.
you watched the exact moment recognition hit his face.
followed immediately by something softer.
something he covered up way too fast.
“you came,” he said later when you finally ended up near him.
surprised.
or at least pretending to be.
“yeah,” you answered casually. you tried to form words, nothing coming out though.
he laughed quietly.
and you noticed his fingers tapping once against the side of his cup.
nervous.
that realization hit you so suddenly it almost threw you off balance.
martin was nervous too.
he just hid it better.
later, the air got colder.
most people drifted back toward the pool while you slipped inside the house for a minute to warm up.
the kitchen was empty.
quiet.
you leaned against the counter with your phone in your hand, trying very hard not to think about the fact that you were currently at your almost-crush’s birthday party acting completely normal about it.
footsteps sounded behind you a minute later.
you already knew who it was before turning around.
martin walked in carrying two drinks.
he stopped slightly when he saw you there alone.
then held one out toward you.
“you disappeared.”
you took the cup carefully. “i was cold.”
“that’s tragic.”
“i know.”
he leaned against the counter beside you.
closer than before.
not close enough to touch.
just enough to make you hyperaware of it.
outside, people laughed somewhere near the pool.
inside, everything felt quieter.
“you know,” you said eventually, staring down at your drink, “i thought after halloween you probably never wanted to talk to me again.”
martin turned his head immediately. “what?”
you cringed slightly. “i was weird.”
“you’re always weird.”
“that’s not comforting.”
he laughed softly.
then his expression shifted slightly when he looked at you again.
“i thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”
you blinked. “why would you think that?”
he shrugged once, but it looked forced. “i don’t know. you always seem nervous around me.”
oh.
OH.
you stared at him for a second too long.
and he noticed.
because suddenly he looked away first.
there it is.
he was nervous.
you could literally see it now.
the tapping fingers. the avoiding eye contact after saying too much. the way he kept smiling slightly after you spoke like he regretted it immediately afterward.
your chest tightened dangerously.
“maybe i am nervous,” you admitted quietly.
his eyes flicked back to yours.
“why?”
you laughed once under your breath. “martin.”
“what?”
“be serious.”
he looked at you for a second.
then smiled slightly.
teasing.
but his ears were turning red.
oh my god.
“wait,” you narrowed your eyes. “you’re nervous too.”
“am not.”
“you literally are.”
“prove it.”
you stared at him.
he stared back.
and the silence changed shape completely.
suddenly too warm.
too close.
martin looked down briefly before speaking again, quieter this time.
“you know i can still leave right now.”
your breath caught slightly.
there it was.
not exactly asking.
but asking anyway.
you looked at him.
really looked at him.
nervous despite pretending not to be.
waiting.
and you realized suddenly that he’d probably been waiting for a while.
so instead of answering, you stepped closer.
just a little.
his eyes dropped to your mouth instantly.
“martin,” you said softly.
“mhm?”
“stop acting like you don’t know.”
that finally broke him.
he laughed quietly once, almost disbelieving, before one hand moved carefully to your waist.
he stayed there for a second like he was still giving you time to change your mind.
you didn’t.
if anything, you moved closer first.
and something in his expression softened instantly when he noticed.
like that had been the final thing he needed.
“okay,” he murmured quietly.
then he kissed you.
soft at first.
careful enough that it almost didn’t feel real.
his hand tightened slightly against your waist the second your lips touched his, like he’d been holding himself back longer than you realized. you could feel the nervousness in it. the hesitation.
which honestly made your chest ache more than if he’d been confident.
because martin was nervous.
about you.
the thought barely had time to settle before he kissed you again properly.
slower this time.
closer.
your fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of his hoodie near his chest, and you felt the tiny breath that left him against your mouth at the movement.
god.
outside, someone shouted near the pool.
music drifted faintly through the open back door.
but it all felt far away now.
the kitchen light above you buzzed softly while martin tilted his head slightly, kissing you like he was still half surprised you were letting him.
like he’d imagined this before but didn’t fully trust it yet.
your hand slid higher against his chest before resting near the back of his neck, and the second your fingers brushed lightly through his hair, he stopped breathing for half a second.
there it is.
you almost smiled into the kiss.
almost.
instead you felt his hand pull you a little closer instinctively, your hip bumping softly against the counter behind you.
the movement made him pause for just a second.
“sorry,” he muttered quietly against your lips.
you let out the tiniest laugh. “for what?”
his forehead rested briefly against yours while he tried to recover.
“i don’t know.”
that made your chest hurt in the worst way.
because suddenly he didn’t feel calm anymore.
he felt nervous.
careful.
trying very hard not to mess this up.
you looked at him properly then.
his hair slightly messy now. lips pink. eyes darker than before but still soft around the edges.
and he was looking at you like he was waiting for reassurance without wanting to ask for it directly.
so you gave it to him.
you kissed him first this time.
and the reaction was immediate.
his hand at your waist tightened again before sliding slightly around your side, pulling you closer without hesitation now. a quiet breath escaped him against your mouth, almost relieved, and the teasing expression he usually hid behind disappeared completely for a second.
the kiss deepened naturally after that.
not rushed.
not messy.
just slow and warm and months — maybe even years — of tension finally having somewhere to go.
every time you pulled back slightly, he followed instinctively.
like he couldn’t help it.
like he’d already spent too much time pretending he didn’t want this.
your fingers slipped properly into his hair now, and martin actually laughed softly against your lips at that.
“you’re doing that on purpose,” he murmured.
“doing what?”
“making this worse.”
“worse for who?”
his eyes flicked down to your mouth again.
then back up.
“me.”
the way he said it made heat rush straight to your face.
you hated that he noticed immediately.
his smile returned slightly at that.
small.
fond.
a little dangerous.
“oh my god,” you muttered. “you know exactly what you’re doing now.”
“not really,” he admitted quietly.
and weirdly enough, that felt more honest than anything else.
because underneath all the teasing, all the pretending, you could still feel how nervous he was.
the slight tension in his shoulders.
the way his thumb kept moving absentmindedly against your waist.
the tiny pause before every kiss like he still couldn’t believe he was allowed to.
you leaned closer again until your foreheads touched briefly.
“you’re shaking a little,” you whispered.
martin let out a quiet laugh through his nose. “this is embarrassing.”
“for you maybe.”
“you were definitely nervous first.”
“true.”
“see?”
you smiled slightly.
then kissed him again before he could keep talking.
that finally shut him up.
for a moment he just melted into it completely, one hand sliding up carefully along your side like he was trying to memorize the feeling of you standing this close.
and honestly?
if he kept looking at you like that, you were pretty sure you’d let him kiss you forever.
@2xred — all rights reserved.
MASTERLIST !
ᯓ★ enhypen
the color violet - heeseung
ᯓ★ lngshot
media naranja ! - louis
ᯓ★ cortis
almost, always - martin
2 hands - james
tba…
@2xred - all rights reserved
MEDIA NARANJA .ᐟ
synopsis; assigned to tutor louis, a charming but hopeless idol failing spanish class, y/n expects stress — not feelings. but somewhere between after-school lessons and teasing conversations, louis starts becoming a little more than just her student.
tags; reader x kpopidol!louis first kiss teasing fluff wc; 1011
notes; ok i wrote this two days ago when i was having a fever and was severely bored, so bare with me. it’s also only semi-proofread and english is also not my first language so i’m open to recs! media naranja means something like “my better half” in spanish, it’s a cutesy inside joke between me and my best friend (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
it was cliché.
he was as busy as it could get, a kpop idol. popular too.
she was your typical school girl, excelling though. popular but unknown at the same time.
and so, she got assigned to tutor him.
he was late.
and somehow, she wasn’t even surprised.
the classroom door opened with a slow creak before louis finally walked in, looking like he had just escaped a schedule that lasted three days too long. hair slightly messy, hoodie half-zipped, expression far too relaxed for someone who’s known to outdo everyone when it comes to languages but still fails high school spanish class.
he dropped into the seat across from her like the chair belonged to him.
didn’t even ask.
she didn’t look up right away.
just flipped a page in her notes.
“you’re late,” she said calmly.
“i know,” he replied, like it was irrelevant information.
a pause.
then he leaned back slightly, watching her instead of the papers.
“you know,” he said, voice easy, “at this point you could just do it for me. i could pay you.”
she finally lifted her gaze.
“you know, at this point you could also just try not failing.” she replies in a mocking tone.
he blinked once,
then smiled a little, like that was funnier than it should’ve been.
“harsh.”
another pause settled between them.
not uncomfortable… familiar too quickly.
he tapped his pen lightly against the desk.
looked at the worksheet like it had personally offended him.
“it’s not even that hard,” she added, softer now. “you just don’t try.”
he glanced up at that.
and instead of arguing, like he usually did, he just watched her for a second longer than necessary.
like he was trying to figure something out.
after that, tutoring became routine.
tuesdays and thursdays after class.
sometimes in empty classrooms.
sometimes in the library when teachers kicked them out for arguing too loudly over verb conjugation.
occasionally over text when louis conveniently “forgot” assignments five minutes before midnight, claiming he was too busy with his idol duties.
most of his messages looked like this:
💬 how do you say “i’m suffering” in spanish
or
💬 if i fail this class i’m blaming you personally btw
and, increasingly:
💬 are you awake
slowly, things changed.
he started showing up on time.
well, almost on time.
he stopped trying to copy directly from her notes and started asking actual questions instead.
sometimes stupid ones.
sometimes surprisingly thoughtful ones.
“why does spanish sound nicer when you say it?”
“because i pronounce things correctly.”
“okay wow.”
there were small things she noticed too.
like how he always brought two drinks without asking what she wanted because he’d already memorized her order.
or how he started saving the seat beside him before she arrived.
or how he looked for her first whenever he walked into a room.
like seeing her there made the rest of the day easier somehow.
one afternoon, rain tapped softly against the classroom windows while louis rested his head dramatically against the desk.
“i’m never understanding this language,” he mumbled.
she glanced over her notes.
“you’re being dramatic again.”
“no bro i’m serious.”
“you literally got an eighty-two on your last quiz.”
he lifted his head slightly.
“only because you explained it.”
“that’s the point of tutoring.”
“no,” he said quietly, still looking away. “i think that’s just you.”
her fingers paused briefly against the page.
now looking at her: “everything makes more sense when you’re around.”
silence settled between them for a moment. comfortable silence. dangerous in a way neither of them wanted to acknowledge yet.
then he smiled suddenly. teasing.
“that sounded smoother in my head.”
she laughed before she could stop herself.
and louis looked unfairly pleased about being the reason.
weeks passed like that.
like they had slipped into each other’s lives without realizing it.
by the time finals approached, louis barely complained about spanish anymore.
their last tutoring session ended later than usual. the school hallways were quiet, sunset spilling warm orange light across the desks.
louis sat beside her this time instead of across from her, one arm lazily resting against the back of her chair while she packed her things.
“so,” he said, “does this mean you’re abandoning me now?”
she zipped her bag closed.
“you passed. my job here is done.”
“tragic.”
she rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway.
he noticed immediately.
for a moment, neither of them moved.
then louis spoke again, quieter this time.
“there’s a phrase i learned for of you.”
“finally.”
“media naranja.” he said, butchering the pronunciation.
her breath caught slightly at the charming phrase. not because she didn’t know what it meant.
but because he said it.
like it meant something now.
his gaze stayed on her.
“kinda fits, doesn’t it?”
she tilted her head slightly.
“you comparing me to an orange?”
“a meaningful orange.”
that earned a laugh out of her.
and louis looked at her the same way he always did when he managed to make her laugh — like he’d won something.
“you’re ridiculous,” she murmured.
“yeah,” he said easily. “but i’m right.”
the silence afterward felt more awkward than usual somehow.
closer.
his eyes flickered briefly toward her lips before returning to her eyes again.
not subtle at all.
“louis,” she started softly.
“mhm?”
“you’re staring.”
“can you blame me?”
heat rose immediately to her face.
his smile softened at the reaction.
then, slowly, he leaned closer.
just enough to give her time to pull away.
she didn’t.
the kiss felt warm.
gentle,
but nervous and inexperienced.
like something they had both been circling around for weeks without saying it out loud.
when they pulled apart, louis stayed close enough that his forehead brushed lightly against hers.
smiling a little.
“does this mean i officially passed spanish now?”
she laughed quietly. “barely.”
“good enough for me.”
and honestly?
with the way he was looking at her now, soft and fond and entirely too happy with himself
it felt good enough for her too.
MEDIA NARANJA .ᐟ
synopsis; assigned to tutor louis, a charming but hopeless idol failing spanish class, y/n expects stress — not feelings. but somewhere between after-school lessons and teasing conversations, louis starts becoming a little more than just her student.
tags; reader x kpopidol!louis first kiss teasing fluff wc; 1011
notes; ok i wrote this two days ago when i was having a fever and was severely bored, so bare with me. it’s also only semi-proofread and english is also not my first language so i’m open to recs! media naranja means something like “my better half” in spanish, it’s a cutesy inside joke between me and my best friend (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
it was cliché.
he was as busy as it could get, a kpop idol. popular too.
she was your typical school girl, excelling though. popular but unknown at the same time.
and so, she got assigned to tutor him.
he was late.
and somehow, she wasn’t even surprised.
the classroom door opened with a slow creak before louis finally walked in, looking like he had just escaped a schedule that lasted three days too long. hair slightly messy, hoodie half-zipped, expression far too relaxed for someone who’s known to outdo everyone when it comes to languages but still fails high school spanish class.
he dropped into the seat across from her like the chair belonged to him.
didn’t even ask.
she didn’t look up right away.
just flipped a page in her notes.
“you’re late,” she said calmly.
“i know,” he replied, like it was irrelevant information.
a pause.
then he leaned back slightly, watching her instead of the papers.
“you know,” he said, voice easy, “at this point you could just do it for me. i could pay you.”
she finally lifted her gaze.
“you know, at this point you could also just try not failing.” she replies in a mocking tone.
he blinked once,
then smiled a little, like that was funnier than it should’ve been.
“harsh.”
another pause settled between them.
not uncomfortable… familiar too quickly.
he tapped his pen lightly against the desk.
looked at the worksheet like it had personally offended him.
“it’s not even that hard,” she added, softer now. “you just don’t try.”
he glanced up at that.
and instead of arguing, like he usually did, he just watched her for a second longer than necessary.
like he was trying to figure something out.
after that, tutoring became routine.
tuesdays and thursdays after class.
sometimes in empty classrooms.
sometimes in the library when teachers kicked them out for arguing too loudly over verb conjugation.
occasionally over text when louis conveniently “forgot” assignments five minutes before midnight, claiming he was too busy with his idol duties.
most of his messages looked like this:
💬 how do you say “i’m suffering” in spanish
or
💬 if i fail this class i’m blaming you personally btw
and, increasingly:
💬 are you awake
slowly, things changed.
he started showing up on time.
well, almost on time.
he stopped trying to copy directly from her notes and started asking actual questions instead.
sometimes stupid ones.
sometimes surprisingly thoughtful ones.
“why does spanish sound nicer when you say it?”
“because i pronounce things correctly.”
“okay wow.”
there were small things she noticed too.
like how he always brought two drinks without asking what she wanted because he’d already memorized her order.
or how he started saving the seat beside him before she arrived.
or how he looked for her first whenever he walked into a room.
like seeing her there made the rest of the day easier somehow.
one afternoon, rain tapped softly against the classroom windows while louis rested his head dramatically against the desk.
“i’m never understanding this language,” he mumbled.
she glanced over her notes.
“you’re being dramatic again.”
“no bro i’m serious.”
“you literally got an eighty-two on your last quiz.”
he lifted his head slightly.
“only because you explained it.”
“that’s the point of tutoring.”
“no,” he said quietly, still looking away. “i think that’s just you.”
her fingers paused briefly against the page.
now looking at her: “everything makes more sense when you’re around.”
silence settled between them for a moment. comfortable silence. dangerous in a way neither of them wanted to acknowledge yet.
then he smiled suddenly. teasing.
“that sounded smoother in my head.”
she laughed before she could stop herself.
and louis looked unfairly pleased about being the reason.
weeks passed like that.
like they had slipped into each other’s lives without realizing it.
by the time finals approached, louis barely complained about spanish anymore.
their last tutoring session ended later than usual. the school hallways were quiet, sunset spilling warm orange light across the desks.
louis sat beside her this time instead of across from her, one arm lazily resting against the back of her chair while she packed her things.
“so,” he said, “does this mean you’re abandoning me now?”
she zipped her bag closed.
“you passed. my job here is done.”
“tragic.”
she rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway.
he noticed immediately.
for a moment, neither of them moved.
then louis spoke again, quieter this time.
“there’s a phrase i learned for you.”
“finally.”
“media naranja.” he said, butchering the pronunciation.
her breath caught slightly at the charming phrase. not because she didn’t know what it meant.
but because he said it.
like it meant something now.
his gaze stayed on her.
“kinda fits, doesn’t it?”
she tilted her head slightly.
“you comparing me to an orange?”
“a meaningful orange.”
that earned a laugh out of her.
and louis looked at her the same way he always did when he managed to make her laugh — like he’d won something.
“you’re ridiculous,” she murmured.
“yeah,” he said easily. “but i’m right.”
the silence afterward felt more awkward than usual somehow.
closer.
his eyes flickered briefly toward her lips before returning to her eyes again.
not subtle at all.
“louis,” she started softly.
“mhm?”
“you’re staring.”
“can you blame me?”
heat rose immediately to her face.
his smile softened at the reaction.
then, slowly, he leaned closer.
just enough to give her time to pull away.
she didn’t.
the kiss felt warm.
gentle,
but nervous and inexperienced.
like something they had both been circling around for weeks without saying it out loud.
when they pulled apart, louis stayed close enough that his forehead brushed lightly against hers.
smiling a little.
“does this mean i officially passed spanish now?”
she laughed quietly. “barely.”
“good enough for me.”
and honestly?
with the way he was looking at her now, soft and fond and entirely too happy with himself
it felt good enough for her too.
I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF
This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.
Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.
MAGIC POTATO GO!🥔
I need luck. Oh, dear sweet magical potato, please whisk my problems away faster than the time it takes to perform the costo rotisserie chicken hack.
⁰⁵golden hour dinner
the sun was setting and bora was sitting out at her campus's terrace just casually eating a bibimbap bowl. the sun was lowly shining into her face, or as minju would call it, the perfect golden hour. the thoughts about what happened at the party were still going through her head. should she contact heeseung, or should she just leave it be?
a light wind was blowing and unfortunately blew her napkin away. she got up to pick it up and as she lifted her head back up, she saw none other than the culprit of her thoughts himself, heeseung.
he, and what seemed to be the rest of enhypen, were out on the basketball court and played, well, basketball.
that made her get even more crazy.
seeing him in a sleeveless shirt, looking as good as ever while scoring a dunk.
oh boy, her little crush wasn't even little anymore. what one night can do right?
being too occupied looking at the boy, she didn't even notice a ball flying her way.
"oh shit i'm so sorry!" was what she knew to be the youngest of the group, niki, said.
and the ball hit her right on her head.
he quickly picked up the ball and threw it back to the rest of his friends: "i'll be right back!"
"bora? i'm so sorry that wasn't meant to happen i swear!"
"it's fine, i'm fine. it didn't even hurt that bad." the hurt told him.
"i'm still very sorry. what are you doing out here?" niki asked.
"uhm, well i was just eating a small dinner and enjoying the weather."
"ouh nice. what were you eating?"
"uhhh bibimbap-"
"oh yum! would you mind if i grab a bite?" the youngster cut her off.
"no, sure, i was just sitting over there." bora showed him the way.
and before bora knew, the two were sitting at the table she before sat at, alone.
"why haven't you written in the group chat yet? we are all really curious about being your friends, especially heeseung hyung" curiosity spiked the boy.
"oh, uhm, i was just, i guess, a little shy? i didn't know what to write." she told him.
"oh really? i didn't know you were that shy, i mean a lot of people here seem to know you."
"hm yeah i know. i've just been really busy and stuff you know, don't have time to be that open." bora came to tell him.
"ahh, what've you been busy with? someone on your mind hmmmmm?" he stupidly smirked at her, trying to hint something.
bora stifled a laugh: "nahh haha, just life going on you know, i'll probably tell you sometime."
"okay. but, you know noona, heeseung hyung has been talking a lot about you, but he won't seem to tell us about what happened at the party."
"oh really? that's funny."
they both sat in silence for a bit.
"hey, don't want to destroy the vibe, but we wanted to continue playing, you in?" a third, jungwon, joined the conversation.
"hey bora by the way."
"hey jungwon!"
"oh yes right! i totally forgot we were even playing in the first place!"
"see you noona and thank you for the dinner! i'll make sure to repay you sometime, i'll make you bungeo-ppang!"niki bid her goodbye while jungwon gave her a 'warning' look.
"no problem, it was nice to see you two!" bora told the younger ones.
"bye bora noona!" jungwon said while they were returning to the basketball court.
"why did you eat her dinner! that's so rude!" jungwon scolded his younger roommate.
"she said it was okay!" niki defended himself.
"tzzz. these two." bora mumbled to herself, laughing and shaking her head.
my forever seven
⁰⁴hungover and overwhelmed
what happened? is what went through boras head while staring at the ceiling of her shared dorm room. last nights events were half a blur for her mind and her roommate, minju, groaning in the corner, wasn't really helpful to her either.
"entering that room was the worst idea i've ever had" she slurred through her groans.
"not going into the room but boozing your minds was" the younger, haerin, answered, "also, bora, what was up with you and heeseung in that damn closet?"
"i don't even know myself, it somehow just happened and we couldn't even finish thanks to our wannabe stoner! now i'm stuck here confusing over a guy that's not even in my league. i should have left whatever happened there, why did i even say to continue whatever that was? i don't have the time and nerves for slutting around right now" bora told her little sister.
"woah, that's was a lot" minju said.
"you sure you're okay, bora?" haerin asked.
"of course i'm not! i should be looking for a job right now, i don't even know if we'll make it through this month and i'm the one responsible!" she went on.
"hey, you know you can rely on me. don't stress yourself, you've still got plenty of time, rent is due in october, it's just the start of september. and if you don't find anything, i have your back." minju tried to reassure her best friend.
"and i appreciate that, but i don't want to have to rely on you. — you know what, let's stop talking about this, i'll go out and get some ibuprofen for our hangovers."
"kk girl, see ya!" the latter told bora.
bora was now on her way out to the nearest pharmacy when she felt a buzz in her pocket.
"you have been added to 'en- connect'"
en- connect
unknown
welcome to the official en- connect group chat!
if you want to contact someone from the party here u go!
~jungwon
a groupchat for a party? seriously? these guys are EXTRA.
minju<3
heyy guys it's minju!! btw i'm sorry for puking all over the floor i swear it wasn't one purpose 😔
kitty kang 🐈
hii i'm haerin! we're also sorry for storming off so quickly, we just wanted to avoid more mess :,)
bora *ೃ༄
hi it's bora and what they said :]
jungwon
hi guys and yes it's totally okay, we still missed you for the rest of the party :(
unknown
wait bora those things by your name are so cute how do i do that
oh and it's sunoo
you
LMAO i just c/p them from google you'll find them anywhere
okay guys i have to get going cure someone's (🙄)hangover
see you!!
jungwon
sure byeee
kitty kang 🐈
see you !
minju<3
hurry!!
⁰³bora, heeseung and a closet
warning!!
semi-mature content
drinks in their hands, more intoxicated by the second kang bora was still sat on lee heeseungs lap.
that they both had enough drinks for the night was noticeable when bora was too under the influence to notice that heeseungs hands were not to himself anymore, but rather stroking boras upper thigh.
a drink spilling and a plastic cup falling was heard when the girl completely knocked the drink held by her one and only over, spilling all over her new bought top.
"FUCK!"
"shit, i'm so sorry" heeseung tried to apologise, but was rather ignored.
"oh bora, that doesn't look good. you could go look in that closet down the hall, there should be something to clean it up and not make it worse." jungwon dropping in to try and help his new made friend.
"yeah thanks, i'll go see what i can do."
steps travelled behind her, on the way to the closet, and not even a minute later bora & heeseung found themselves in the closet together to try and get rid of the stain the cherry liquor made.
"you don't even know how sorry i am. i shouldn't have placed my hands there knowing-"
"heeseung stop, it wasn't your fault, I was the one that knocked the cup over, you have nothing to do with it." bora had cut him off while turning back to rubbing off the spilled drink on her shirt.
suddenly, heeseung took her face into his hands and looked her in the eyes while taking bora off guard.
"bora, dear, please shut up and let me help you." heeseung sincerely told her and took the paper towel out of her hands going to rub his mess (😏) off of her.
after what felt like years of tension to bora (in reality it was actually just 21.56 seconds) something in her just decided to snap.
she wanted to blame the fault on all the alcohol she had that night, but also her anticipation to this exact moment, but that action just then just seemed to set her off.
it hadn't even been a minute and heeseung had already lifted her on the countertop right at the entrance of the closet, which bora had previously leaned on.
his hands slowly wandered from her waist down to her hips, and then to her ass, gripping at it.
heeseung seems to be experienced— was what bora thought in that exact moment when she felt at how soft and plump his lips actually were.
their lips were moving as if they were synchronised, bora leaning into heeseung and wrapping her hands around his neck.
"you taste like cherrys" bora told him, to which she got heeseung smirking into the kiss as an answer.
somehow, kissing didn't seem to be enough anymore as heeseung was softly nipping at her lips making bora leave out a not-so-silent gasp and leaning more and more into his ecstasy.
heeseung slow and steadily went down to leave marks at the soft skin of her neck and casually biting her here and there making her let out quiet moans against his shoulder.
bora gripped at the belt on his waistline while heeseung had started to move his hands from her ass to her inner thigh entering her skirt.
she tried to open it, failing by the over-sensation she was feeling at the moment.
all of that spirit was ruined, when a unwanted intruder opened the door.
"OH MY GOD!"
"fuck, haerin what are you doing?!" bora was pulled out of her trance.
"i didn't want to disturb anything here but i was just trying to get you because minju just puked all over the weed room and it's time to go home" haerin explained to her older sister.
she had already started to pull bora out of the scene, "we'll continue this another time heeseung!"
heeseung watched her leave with a smug smile.
⁰²our first en-connect
"our first en-connect!! cheers!!" minju exclaimed while drowning their first shots with bora.
the two best friends were wearing matching outfits. minju wore a baby pink satin mini-dress, while bora wore a 'balloon armed' crop-top which cleavage was just slightly too far, revealing part of her 'gems', paired with a skirt that reached just down her cheeks in the same color.
"come on sluts! i call shotgun to passenger seat!" haerin yelled just so that the two girls could hear her.
bora stopped at a mirror: "do i look good or do i look good?"
"you look gorg, now come on!" minju hurried her.
arriving at said location, three girls stepped out of a car.
"god it hasn't even been 5 minutes and i can already smell the alcohol from here." haerin said to the rest.
outside of the frat's house were spread out plastic cups, burnt cigarettes and even thongs. the girls carefully walked along the sidewalk towards the venue, eventually ringing the doorbell. opening the door was a boy with cat like features, unfamiliar to minju & bora.
"hey haerin! nice to see you!," he said to the young girl while giving her a quick hug, "oh excuse me for being so disrespectful, i'm yang jungwon, i'm one of the freshmen of enhypen." the boy introduced himself.
now it made sense to them, he's the boy who invited them.
"this, jungwon, is my older sister bora and her best friend minju, who are also my roommates." the girl smiled at him, introducing the other two.
"hi"
"hey"
"so come on in, there's a party waiting for you in here," he led the girls in "it's a bit stuffy in here, so you could get yourself some drinks and come down to the basement with me and my friends, we're just chilling."
all of them knew the 'friends' he was talking about was the main part of this gathering; enhypen.
they gave eachother a look, signaling they were all okay with the idea.
"'kay, we'll be in the kitchen for a bit and come down right after. you guys can go ahead." bora said while winking at her younger sister, getting a 'what-are-you-thinking' look back from her.
"sure" jungwon said in response, "let's go haerin."
"minju, i can't even believe this is happening. we're about to go downstairs to hang out with enhypen. last year we only could've dreamed of this." bora told her so- called 'bestie'.
"right that's what i thought too." the other of the pair answered.
about 6 shots, for confidence, later, the girls were on their way down to the basement, not gonna lie, stumbling here and there.
six boys plus haerin, were chilling on two couches, but nowhere to be found was the boy bora has laid her eyes on for a while; lee heeseung.
the older ones she recognized as jake, jay and sunghoon. but there were 2 unfamiliar faces to her, to which she assumed to be freshmen like her sister and jungwon.
"hey girls, glad to see you also came. i dont think you know these two right here. thats riki and over there is sunoo, this is bora, haerins older sister and her best friend, minju. feel free to take another drink or go to the room to your right, there must be someone with a blunt in there." jungwon welcomed them.
"safe to say, i'm gonna be in there. bye bitch!" minju tipsied out.
"that was my cue to leave as well, have a great time guys!" and with that jake left the room.
before bora had the chance to sit down, there were footsteps heard, coming from the steps.
and there he was, heeseung.
"sorry for being late, but i'm here now!" he blurted out while sitting down on one of the mini-couches.
"this is the damn heeseung i know, always late." jay stated as heeseung left out a chuckle.
"oh heeseung, that's bora over there. her friend minju is in the weed room, if you want to meet her." jungwon introduced her.
"hey"
"hey bora.. hm looks like there are no free seats left. i do have a lap, you could use." he told her while smirking, also earning a sly one back from the said girl.
bora knew exactly where this was going.
