panokari_102

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acc. for reblogs, reads, recos only! 🎀

all images come from pinterest | love, akari !

[cortismoon]

HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT

SYPNOSIS your eight year relationship with juhoon abruptly comes to an end

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS aged up!juhoon (26 y/o), angst with no comfort, cheating, infidelity, toxic relationship, best friend betrayal, broken engagement, emotional manipulation, emotional breakdown, panic attack, self-neglect, tragic ending, hurt no comfort (more warnings, which i unfortunately cannot mention due to spoilers. read at your own risk!)

NOTE i wanna thank @hyuneskkami for helping me with this masterpiece😋love you mama🥺 and uh…sorry in advance? lol..

you spent the better part of the afternoon humming to yourself as you moved around the apartment, your excitement spilling into every little thing you did. the dining table was dressed more carefully than it had been in months, plates lined up perfectly, glasses polished until they caught the warm glow of the lights, and his favorite dishes spread across the table while the comforting smell of home cooked food filled every corner of the apartment. it had been so long since juhoon had come home before it was dark, so long since the two of you had actually sat down together without him rushing out the door or apologizing through a rushed text message. tonight felt different, and for the first time in months, you let yourself believe that maybe things were finally going back to the way they used to be.

unable to keep your excitement to yourself, you called jiwoo the moment you finished setting everything up. the second she answered, your words came tumbling out faster than you could organize them, your smile so wide that your cheeks already hurt. you told her how juhoon had promised he’d be home for dinner, how you had spent all day cooking, and how it almost felt like you were getting your fiancé back after months of feeling like you were living with a stranger. jiwoo laughed softly at how excited you sounded, teasing you for acting like it was your first date all over again, but beneath her jokes was genuine happiness for you. before hanging up, she told you she hoped the two of you had a wonderful night together, and you promised her you’d tell her all about it tomorrow.

once the call ended, you glanced at the clock, your heart fluttering as you realized he was supposed to be home in five minutes. you smoothed out imaginary wrinkles on the tablecloth, adjusted the silverware one last time, and found yourself walking toward the window every few moments to peek outside, convinced you’d see his familiar car pulling into the driveway. every sound from outside made your heart leap before settling again, and despite how silly it felt, you couldn’t stop smiling.

five minutes turned into fifteen, and fifteen quietly stretched into thirty.

you checked your phone, expecting to see a message saying he’d been caught up at work, but the screen remained empty. after sending him a quick text asking if everything was okay, you convinced yourself there was nothing to worry about. work had always been demanding lately, and maybe he’d simply lost track of time. you tried calling him once, only to hear it ring without an answer before going to voicemail. swallowing your disappointment, you told yourself he’d probably call back any minute.

another thirty minutes crawled by with painful slowness, each tick of the clock growing louder inside the quiet apartment until it was almost unbearable. the food had gone cold, the candles had nearly burned themselves out, and your phone still sat silently beside your plate. you called again, then again, each attempt ending the same way. eventually, the hope you’d been desperately holding onto began slipping through your fingers, replaced by a familiar ache that settled heavily in your chest.

your eyes blurred with tears as you slowly stood from the table, staring at the untouched dinner you had spent hours preparing. your hands trembled while you carried each dish back into the kitchen, scraping the food into the trash one plate at a time. every soft clatter of porcelain against the sink felt louder than it should have, echoing through an apartment that suddenly felt far too empty. by the time you finished washing everything, your cheeks were soaked, and your chest hurt from trying so hard not to cry too loudly.

when there was nothing left to clean, you quietly made your way to the bedroom, changing into your pajamas before climbing beneath the blankets. the space beside you remained cold and untouched, making the bed somehow feel much bigger than it actually was. you curled onto your side, clutching the blanket close as you stared into the darkness, willing yourself to fall asleep so you wouldn’t have to think anymore. no matter how tightly you closed your eyes, sleep refused to come, leaving you alone with every unanswered text, every missed call, and every broken promise circling endlessly through your mind.

another hour passed before the silence was finally broken by the sound of the front door unlocking.

“hey, i’m back. sorry, work ran late.” his voice drifted through the apartment as casually as if nothing had happened, and instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut. you didn’t have the energy to confront him, nor did you trust yourself not to burst into tears the second you looked at him. instead, you forced your breathing into a slow, even rhythm, praying he’d believe you were already asleep.

“y/n?” his footsteps echoed down the hallway before stopping outside the bedroom door. you remained perfectly still, barely daring to breathe as the door creaked open.

“oh, she’s asleep. thank god.”

the quiet scoff that followed struck harder than anything else could have.

your heart seemed to stop altogether before sinking painfully into your stomach. there wasn’t relief in his voice because he was glad you were resting. there was relief because he didn’t have to face you. because he didn’t have to explain himself, apologize, or even pretend to care about how long you’d spent waiting for him. the realization hurt more than being stood up ever could.

a few moments later, he disappeared into the bathroom, and the sound of the shower soon filled the apartment. you lay frozen beneath the blankets, staring into the darkness with tears silently slipping down your face. they soaked into your pillow one after another as the water continued running behind the bathroom door, drowning out the quiet sound of your heart breaking.

at some point, exhaustion became stronger than the ache inside your chest, and despite the tears still staining your face, sleep finally pulled you under.

the next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and a silent apartment. the space beside you was already cold, the sheets neatly pulled back as if juhoon had left hours ago without making a sound. you slowly pushed yourself upright, your body feeling strangely heavy despite having slept through the night. your eyes settled on the blank wall across from the bed, and you simply sat there for several long minutes, unable to find the motivation to move. the events from the night before replayed in your mind over and over again, and the pit in your stomach only seemed to grow deeper with every passing second.

eventually, you reached over to your nightstand and grabbed your phone with tired hands. without thinking twice, you scrolled to jiwoo’s contact and pressed call. she answered almost immediately, her cheerful greeting fading the second she heard the silence on your end.

“hey, can i come over?” you asked quietly, your voice sounding much weaker than you intended.

“of course. is it juhoon again?”

you instinctively nodded before realizing she couldn’t see you through the phone. you let out a quiet breath, rubbing your forehead as exhaustion settled over you.

“yeah. i’ll be there in a few.” you ended the call before she could ask anything else, knowing that if she did, you’d probably start crying all over again.

after washing your face and changing into clean clothes, you quietly left the apartment. the morning air was cool against your skin, and although jiwoo only lived ten minutes away, the walk somehow felt much longer than usual. your feet carried you there on autopilot while your mind remained occupied with unanswered questions, each one heavier than the last. by the time you reached her front door and knocked, it swung open almost immediately, revealing jiwoo already waiting for you with concern written across her face.

she didn’t ask any questions as she stepped aside to let you in, simply wrapping an arm around your shoulders before leading you into the living room. the familiar comfort of her home usually helped calm your nerves, but today, even that felt distant.

as you settled onto the couch, you caught a scent lingering in the room that didn’t belong there. it was unmistakably men’s cologne, fresh enough that whoever had been wearing it couldn’t have left very long ago. you glanced toward jiwoo with a small, tired smile.

“was your boyfriend here?”

a bright blush immediately spread across her cheeks as she sheepishly nodded. “i kicked him out before you came here.”

despite everything weighing on your chest, you couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh.

“i wonder when you’ll finally let me meet him.”

her grin widened, her excitement momentarily overpowering her embarrassment. “soon. i already have something planned.”

you smiled back, genuinely happy for her, even if only for a brief moment.

before long, however, the conversation inevitably drifted back to juhoon.

you told her everything, from the dinner you had spent hours preparing to the endless calls he ignored, the cold food sitting untouched on the table, and the tears you shed while throwing everything away. then you described the moment he finally came home two hours late, the casual apology he offered, and the words that hadn’t stopped echoing in your mind since last night.

“oh, she’s asleep. thank god.” 

your voice cracked as you repeated them aloud. “he sounded… relieved. like he didn’t want me awake.”

jiwoo remained silent for several moments, carefully choosing her words before finally speaking. “y/n… has the thought about another woman ever crossed your mind?”

the question caught you completely off guard. you stared at her in confusion, almost certain you had misheard.

“another woman?” you repeated quietly. “jiwoo, what are you talking about? why would he…” your voice began trembling as you shook your head. “no. stop. that’s impossible.”

jiwoo sighed softly, her expression filled with guilt. “just think about it. why would he immediately shower after coming back? why is work always running late? why has he been so distant?”

every word felt like another crack forming beneath your feet. you shook your head more firmly, refusing to let yourself even entertain the possibility. “jiwoo, no. stop it. why would he propose to me if there was another woman?”

for a long moment, she simply looked at you, then her gaze slowly dropped to the diamond ring resting on your finger. “maybe… he didn’t want you to find out.”

the room suddenly felt too quiet.

you stared at her, unable to process what she had just said. it wasn’t anger you felt first, but disbelief. complete, overwhelming disbelief. the idea itself sounded absurd. impossible. after everything the two of you had been through together, after growing up side by side since high school, after nearly a decade of loving each other, after getting engaged only months ago, how could she even suggest something like that?

before you realized what you were doing, you were already standing. “i have to go.”

jiwoo immediately stood as well. “y/n…”

“i need to clean the house.” you grabbed your coat before she could stop you.

“y/n, i’m sorry. it was just a thought. come on, you can’t—”

you didn’t let her finish. you walked straight out the front door, pulling it shut behind you with enough force that it slammed through the quiet neighborhood.

the walk home felt colder than before.

your vision blurred as tears burned behind your eyes, and no matter how many times you blinked them away, they kept returning. you couldn’t believe jiwoo would even suggest something like that. juhoon cheating on you had never crossed your mind, not even once. the idea felt so ridiculous that your brain refused to accept it.

you had been together since high school.

the two of you were twenty six years old now.

you had built your entire adult lives together.

there was simply no way.

the moment you stepped back into the apartment, you threw yourself into cleaning before your thoughts had a chance to catch up. it had always been your way of coping whenever life became too overwhelming. if your mind felt messy, you cleaned until everything around you looked perfect. you dusted every shelf, wiped every countertop until it shined, vacuumed every room twice, and scrubbed surfaces that didn’t even need cleaning. hours passed without you noticing, your body moving automatically while your thoughts remained painfully loud.

eventually, all that remained was the laundry.

you carried the basket into the bathroom before separating everything into piles. your pink sweater landed first, followed by your jeans, a handful of shirts, towels, and finally one of juhoon’s blue work blouses.

you reached toward the washing machine, intending to throw it in with the rest.

something made you stop. your eyes narrowed slightly as you noticed a faint streak of red near the collar. confused, you lifted the blouse closer.

your breathing hitched.

the small red mark wasn’t random.

it wasn’t sauce. it wasn’t ink.

it was lipstick.

your heart lurched violently against your ribs as a wave of nausea rolled through your stomach. your fingers tightened around the fabric while your legs suddenly felt too weak to support your weight. your entire body went cold as your hands began trembling uncontrollably, the room around you seeming to blur for just a second.

unable to stop yourself, you slowly brought the collar closer to your face.

you inhaled.

it wasn’t your perfume and it definitely wasn’t your lipstick.

it was someone else’s.

a sweet floral scent lingered on the fabric, unmistakably feminine. your vision flooded with tears before you even realized you were crying.

with shaking hands, you shoved the blouse into the washing machine so forcefully that it hit the metal drum with a dull thud. you dumped in the detergent without measuring it, slammed the door shut, and pressed the start button so hard your finger hurt.

the machine whirred to life.

you couldn’t.

you couldn’t look at it anymore.

stumbling backward, you rushed out of the bathroom as sobs finally tore free from your chest, hot tears pouring endlessly down your face.

this couldn’t be happening.

not to you.

not to the two of you.

not after everything.

the rest of the day passed in complete silence, and for the first time in years, you never once reached for your phone to text juhoon. no good morning message, no asking if he’d eaten, no wondering what time he’d be home, and no reminding him to drive safely. your conversations had already grown scarce over the past few months, but today, you couldn’t bring yourself to send even a single word. after everything that had happened, after the lipstick stain and the unfamiliar perfume lingering on his shirt, you didn’t know what you were supposed to say anymore.

once you finished cleaning every inch of the apartment, exhaustion finally settled over you. you curled up on the couch with your phone in your hands, absentmindedly scrolling through social media while your mind remained somewhere else entirely. nothing you looked at managed to hold your attention for more than a few seconds before your thoughts wandered back to the same place. every now and then, another tear escaped your eyes, quietly sliding down your cheeks as you stared blankly at your screen, too emotionally drained to even wipe them away right away.

without warning, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the apartment.

your head immediately snapped toward the entrance, and you hurriedly brushed the tears from your face with the sleeve of your sweater before sitting up straighter. a second later, juhoon stepped inside, loosening his tie as if today had been no different from any other day. your eyebrows knitted together in confusion the moment you saw him.

it almost felt cruel.

every single time you had something planned with him, every dinner, every movie night, every little date you had looked forward to, he somehow ended up working late or canceling altogether. yet on the days when you expected nothing from him, when there were no plans waiting for him at home, he somehow managed to walk through the front door while the sun was still out.

“hey.” his voice pulled you from your thoughts as he looked over at you with a small smile. “our anniversary is this sunday. i booked us a reservation at your favorite restaurant.”

you simply stared up at him from the couch, your face completely unreadable. instead of smiling back like you normally would have, one quiet question left your lips. “how come you didn’t have to work late again?”

the smile disappeared almost instantly. his shoulders tensed, and the annoyance that crossed his face wasn’t subtle enough for him to hide. “don’t start, y/n. you know i have no control over my work schedule.”

you held his gaze for several long seconds before letting out a quiet, humorless laugh.

“fine then.” your voice remained calm, almost too calm. “we’ll go to the restaurant on sunday.”

you slowly stood from the couch, slipping your phone into your pocket as you walked past him. “let’s see if you actually show up.”

you didn’t bother looking back as you headed toward the bedroom, but you heard his footsteps following closely behind you.

“why are you mad about this again?” he asked, frustration becoming more obvious with every word. “i’ve told you countless times that my work schedule can change at any time.”

his explanation sounded exactly like every other excuse he’d given over the past several months.

only this time,  you didn’t believe it.

not after that blouse.

you slowly turned around until you were facing him again, your expression empty despite the storm raging inside your chest. “aren’t you gonna shower?”

the question seemed to catch him completely off guard.

you tilted your head ever so slightly, refusing to look away. “you always shower after coming home late from work, right?”

the color drained from his face so quickly that it almost startled you.

his eyes widened for only a fraction of a second before he tried forcing his expression back into something neutral, but it was already too late.

you had seen it.

the panic.

the hesitation.

the guilt.

neither of you spoke.

the bedroom fell into a suffocating silence as you simply stared at one another, neither willing to break eye contact. your heart pounded so violently that you could hear it in your ears, and although you desperately wanted him to deny it, to laugh and ask what you were talking about, he never did.

instead, after what felt like an eternity, he quietly looked away.

“sure,” he finally muttered. “i’ll go shower.” 

without another word, he began unbuttoning his blue blouse as he walked past you toward the bathroom.

the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut echoed through the apartment.

you stood there for only a moment before turning away yourself, your legs suddenly feeling too weak to keep you standing. somehow, you managed to make it back into the living room before the first tear escaped.

then another.

and another.

soon, they were falling faster than you could wipe them away. you sank back onto the couch, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the quiet sob that escaped your throat.

you hated it.

you hated that the tiny seed jiwoo had planted in your mind was beginning to grow.

because after seeing the look on juhoon’s face,  you were starting to believe she had been right all along.

sunday arrived far quicker than you wanted it to, carrying with it the anniversary you had spent days trying not to think about. the afternoon before, you had gone shopping with jiwoo, wandering through boutiques while she laughed beside you as if everything between the two of you was perfectly normal. together, you picked out a delicate necklace, matching earrings, a pair of heels that made you feel elegant, and a soft pink dress that immediately reminded you of all the times juhoon had smiled and told you that pink was your color. you smiled along with her, forcing yourself to ignore the strange feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach.

you weren’t even sure why you had spent so much money or why you had put so much effort into preparing for tonight. maybe somewhere deep inside, beneath all the doubt and fear, you were desperately clinging to the hope that you had misunderstood everything. maybe the lipstick had some innocent explanation. maybe the perfume belonged to a coworker who had hugged him goodbye. maybe he really had been working late all those nights. maybe this distance between the two of you was just a rough patch that would disappear as suddenly as it had appeared.

after all, he wouldn’t ask you to marry him just to make sure cheating would never cross your mind.

right?

you refused to let yourself think any further.

for nearly three hours, you stood in front of the mirror, carefully getting ready. you slipped into the pink dress because you remembered how his face used to light up whenever you wore that color. you applied your makeup exactly the way he always said made your eyes look beautiful, curled your hair the way he loved running his fingers through it, and chose every piece of jewelry with careful attention. by the time you finished, you hardly recognized yourself anymore. every little detail had been chosen with one hope in mind.

that maybe he would finally look at you again.

he had promised to pick you up after work.

so you waited.

the first thirty minutes passed quietly as you sat by the window with your phone resting in your lap. after sending him a quick message asking if he was on his way, you smiled to yourself, convincing yourself that he was probably caught in traffic. he hated texting while driving, and you had always respected that, so you patiently waited for another notification to appear.

none ever did.

one hour passed.

then another.

then a third.

the sunlight slowly disappeared beyond the windows, leaving the apartment darker with every passing minute until you were sitting alone in complete silence, still wearing the dress you had spent hours preparing yourself in.

your phone remained silent.

just like every other time.

the tears came before you even realized you were crying.

your vision blurred as you unlocked your phone and opened your messages with trembling hands.

can you come over?

he ghosted me again.

jiwoo replied almost immediately.

come over. now.

you stared at her message for several seconds before quietly standing up.

there was no point wearing the dress anymore.

you carefully unzipped it, folded it back into its garment bag, slipped your heels off, and changed into comfortable clothes instead. after tying your hair into a simple ponytail, you grabbed your keys and left the apartment without another thought.

the walk to jiwoo’s house felt strangely quiet.

your mind was numb.

your heart was exhausted.

when you finally reached her front door, you knocked twice before waiting.

no answer.

assuming she hadn’t heard you, you entered the familiar code she had shared with you years ago and let yourself inside like you had done countless times before.

the moment you stepped into the living room, your entire world shattered.

time seemed to stop.

your breathing caught painfully in your throat as your eyes landed on the couch.

jiwoo and juhoon.

his hand was resting against her waist. her fingers were tangled in his hair. their lips were pressed together.

they were making out.

for a second, your brain refused to understand what your eyes were seeing.

everything around you blurred.

your ears rang.

your knees nearly gave out beneath you. “…what the fuck.”

your voice came out barely louder than a whisper. they immediately jerked apart.

juhoon’s eyes shot toward you, every ounce of color draining from his face before panic completely overtook his expression. he shoved jiwoo away from him so abruptly that she stumbled backward against the couch cushions.

tears flooded your eyes almost instantly.

you couldn’t breathe.

you couldn’t think.

all you could do was stare at your fiancé and your best friend.

the woman who had been more like a sister to you than anyone else.

“y/n…” juhoon’s voice cracked as he hurried to his feet. “what are you… why are you here?!”

he quickly started walking toward you.

your gaze drifted past him.

jiwoo was still sitting comfortably on the couch. she wasn’t crying or shocked. she wasn’t apologizing, either.

intead, she was smiling.

no.

she was smirking.

the expression on her face made something inside you click into place.

your eyes slowly widened as every late night, every canceled dinner, every ignored phone call, every conversation you had ever had with her came crashing together all at once.

your lips trembled. “you…” your voice barely existed anymore. “you did this on purpose.”

jiwoo’s smile didn’t disappear.

“every time we had something planned…” another tear rolled down your cheek. “every single time i told you about it…”

the realization hit you so violently that it almost made you sick. “you kept him from coming.”

silence filled the room.

juhoon’s breathing became uneven.

before you could even process what was happening, his hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist.

“y/n.” he pulled you toward the front door. “come outside.”

your feet stumbled after him in complete shock as he hurried you out of the apartment and into the hallway before finally letting go.

the door slammed shut behind the two of you. for several seconds, you simply stood there, your mind struggling to catch up with reality.

then you looked down at his hand which was still wrapped around your wrist.

anger exploded through your body. you ripped your arm away with all the strength you had before forcefully shoving him backward.

he stumbled several steps before catching himself.

“you have some nerve, kim juhoon.” your voice shook violently through your sobs as tears streamed uncontrollably down your face. “why did you propose to me?”

he stared at you in complete panic, his own eyes beggining to fill with tears.

“y/n, i swear to you…” his voice cracked. “you’re the one i love.”

he desperately shook his head. “i don’t love jiwoo. please, believe me.” he took another cautious step toward you. “you’re the one i want.”

the words reached your ears, but after everything you had just seen,  they had never sounded more meaningless.

the walk back to the apartment felt endless, even though neither of you said much. juhoon stayed only a few steps behind you the entire time, his voice constantly breaking the silence as he begged you to slow down, to look at him, to let him explain. every few seconds, he called your name again, his words growing more desperate when you refused to even acknowledge that he was there. you kept your eyes fixed straight ahead, your vision blurred by tears that refused to stop falling, while your chest ached so badly that every breath felt painful. somewhere behind you, you could hear him crying too, but the sound only made something inside you twist even tighter.

by the time you reached your apartment building, your hands were shaking so violently that you struggled to unlock the front door. the second you stepped inside, you didn’t bother taking off your shoes. juhoon hurried in after you, closing the door behind him as he continued pleading with you.

“y/n, please. just listen to me.”

you acted as though he hadn’t spoken at all.

instead, you marched straight into the bedroom and yanked open the closet doors with enough force that they slammed against the wall. before juhoon could understand what you were doing, you had already begun grabbing armfuls of his clothes and throwing them onto the floor. shirts, jeans, hoodies, jackets, everything you could reach landed in a growing pile at your feet, each piece hitting the ground harder than the last as months of heartbreak poured into every movement.

“what… what are you doing?! y/n!” he rushed forward and grabbed both of your shoulders, forcing you to turn toward him.

the moment your eyes met his, another sob tore from your throat. without hesitation, you shoved him away as hard as you could.

“pack your shit.” your voice cracked so badly it barely sounded like your own. “go move in with jiwoo since you love her so much.”

you grabbed one of his hoodies from the closet and threw it directly at his chest. it fell uselessly onto the floor between the two of you.

juhoon stared at you as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “are you insane?” he asked, his voice trembling with panic. “what are you talking about? you’re not thinking straight, y/n.”

the words shattered what little control you still had.

“isn’t that funny?” you cried, tears pouring endlessly down your face. “because i thought i was going insane for months trying to figure out why my fiancé suddenly stopped loving me.”

your breathing became uneven as another sob escaped. “it’s our fucking eight year anniversary, juhoon.” your voice echoed through the apartment. “eight years.”

you grabbed another armful of clothes and threw them at him one after another. “eight years i’ve spent loving you, only for you to make every single one of them a waste.”

another hoodie struck his shoulder before falling to the floor. “go live with fucking jiwoo, you piece of shit.”

your voice broke completely. “go.”

juhoon ran both hands through his hair, tears spilling freely down his own face as frustration finally overtook him.

“can’t you just listen to me for one second?” he shouted. “just—fuck!— listen to me!”

you didn’t answer, instead, you grabbed his wrist and began dragging him toward the front door with every ounce of strength you had left.

“get out.”

he resisted. “y/n…”

“get out!”

suddenly, he pushed you away harder than he meant to.

your body stumbled backward before your back slammed violently against the wall. the impact knocked the air straight out of your lungs.

a sharp pain spread across your back as you instinctively gasped for breath, your knees threatening to give out beneath you.

everything became quiet.

neither of you moved.

juhoon’s expression changed almost instantly. the anger disappeared from his face, replaced by horror. his eyes darted over your trembling figure as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

after several painfully long seconds, he slowly stepped toward you. “hey…” his voice had become almost a whisper. “are you okay?”

another hesitant step. “i’m sorry. i…”

before he could finish speaking, your hand flew across his face.

the slap echoed through the apartment.

his head snapped to the side from the force of it.

for several seconds, neither of you moved.

juhoon slowly lifted a hand to his cheek, his eyes wide with complete disbelief as he looked back at you.

your face remained empty.

there was no anger left.

no screaming.

no energy.

just heartbreak.

he stared at you for what felt like forever before his shoulders slowly slumped.

without saying another word, he bent down and silently gathered a few of the clothes scattered across the floor. he didn’t try to explain himself again. he didn’t beg you to stay. he simply walked toward the front door with tears still falling down his face.

the door opened, then quietly closed behind him. the sound of it clicking shut echoed through the apartment.

your legs finally gave out.

you collapsed onto the floor where you stood, your entire body shaking as loud, uncontrollable sobs tore through your chest. the apartment that had once been filled with laughter, late night conversations, and dreams of a future together now felt unbearably empty.

the next four days blurred together until you could barely tell where one ended and another began. every hour felt exactly the same, every morning looked identical to every night, and time no longer seemed to matter. the apartment had become painfully quiet without juhoon’s presence, yet somehow it still felt like he was everywhere. his mug still sat in the kitchen cabinet, his shampoo remained untouched in the bathroom, and a few of his hoodies were still hanging where you had forgotten to throw them out. every room carried memories that now felt impossible to escape.

you hadn’t showered once.

you hadn’t brushed your teeth.

you hadn’t eaten anything besides taking a few absentminded sips of water whenever your throat became too dry to cry anymore.

most days, you didn’t even leave your bed.

you simply lay beneath the blankets with the curtains drawn shut, staring blankly at the ceiling until your eyes filled with tears all over again. sleep rarely came, and when it did, it only lasted an hour or two before you woke up expecting to find everything had just been a nightmare. every single time, reality came crashing back before you had even fully opened your eyes.

your phone never stopped buzzing.

every thirty minutes, almost like clockwork, another notification lit up your screen.

they were always from juhoon.

at first, he begged you to answer.

then he apologized.

then he apologized again.

he told you he missed you more than words could explain. he said he wished he could go back and undo everything. he admitted he was staying alone in a hotel because he couldn’t bring himself to return to the apartment after what happened. he promised you he hadn’t spoken to jiwoo once in the four days since you caught them together.

every message ended the same way.

please talk to me.

please.

you never replied.

you couldn’t.

every time you saw his name appear across your screen, your chest tightened until breathing became difficult all over again.

the silence from jiwoo hurt just as much.

there wasn’t a single apology.

not one explanation.

not even an excuse.

after everything the two of you had shared throughout your lives, she had simply disappeared as though none of it had ever mattered.

that somehow made everything feel even more cruel.

it was nearly one in the morning when another wave of sobs overtook you.

your face was buried deep in your pillow as tears soaked through the fabric for what felt like the hundredth time that week. your eyes burned from crying so much, your head pounded relentlessly, and your entire body ached from lying in the same position for hours.

then your phone vibrated again.

you almost ignored it.

almost.

with trembling fingers, you reached across the mattress and unlocked your screen.

your heart immediately sank.

come to the rooftop.

you stared at the message without moving.

the words seemed so simple, yet they carried a weight that made your stomach twist painfully. you considered locking your phone again and pretending you had never seen it but before you could decide, another notification appeared.

please.

we have to talk sooner or later.

your thumb hovered over the screen as you read the message again and again and again.

nearly a full minute passed before you finally let out a shaky breath.

maybe he was right. whether it happened tonight or weeks from now, this conversation couldn’t be avoided forever.

slowly, you pushed the blankets away from your body and sat upright.

the movement alone made your head spin. your muscles protested after spending so many days curled up in bed, and a dull ache immediately settled behind your eyes. you remained sitting on the edge of the mattress until the dizziness faded enough for you to stand.

your reflection in the bathroom mirror barely resembled the person you remembered.

your eyes were swollen from days of crying, dark circles rested heavily beneath them, and your hair had become tangled and greasy after nearly a week without washing it.

for a long moment, you simply stared at yourself.

then you quietly reached for your toothbrush. the familiar mint taste almost felt foreign after four days. once you finished, you gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with trembling hands before taking one last look at your reflection.

after slipping your phone into your pocket, you quietly stepped into the hallway.

every footstep echoed softly as you climbed the stairs toward the rooftop, your heartbeat growing louder with every floor you passed. by the time you reached the final door, your hand rested against the handle, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push it open.

fear settled heavily in your chest.

you didn’t know what he was going to say. you weren’t sure you even wanted to hear it.

closing your eyes for only a second, you took one slow, shaky breath before you turned the handle.

the rooftop was almost exactly the way you remembered it.

the cool night breeze drifted across the concrete, carrying the faint sounds of traffic from far below while the moon hung high above the city, glowing softly against the dark sky. juhoon stood with his back facing you, his hands resting inside the pockets of his jacket as he quietly looked up at it.

for a moment, everything around you disappeared.

your mind dragged you backward through years of memories you had spent trying to forget over the last few days. nights spent sitting together against the rooftop wall with steaming cups of convenience store ramen balanced on your knees, laughing until your stomach hurt over absolutely nothing, listening to him ramble while you watched the moon instead of him because he always knew that was where your attention wandered. he never got jealous of it. if anything, he always smiled whenever he caught you staring at the sky, gently nudging your shoulder before pointing out a brighter star or a passing plane just to make you smile.

he knew how much the moon meant to you.

he knew it had always been your favorite place.

slowly, he turned around. the second his eyes landed on you, relief washed over his exhausted features. his lips curved into a small, fragile smile. “you came.”

before he could say anything else, you crossed the distance between the two of you in quick, angry steps.

your hand collided sharply against his cheek. the crack echoed across the empty rooftop.

the slap wasn’t nearly as hard as the first one, but it still forced his head to turn slightly.

he didn’t lift a hand to defend himself.

he didn’t tell you to stop.

he simply looked back at you in silence.

the red mark blooming across his cheek was the only sign he’d even felt it.

“you’re a piece of shit, juhoon.” your voice trembled violently. “i don’t even know why you kept me around.”

tears blurred your vision again. “if you fell out of love with me, then you should’ve broken up with me.”

he lowered his head. a tear slipped from beneath his lashes before disappearing onto the concrete below.

he nodded slowly, accepting every word without interruption.

that only made you angrier. “you stayed with me for eight years.” your breathing became increasingly uneven.

“eight years.” another sob escaped before you forced yourself to continue.

“you proposed to me…” your hand instinctively clenched around the engagement ring still resting on your finger.

“for what?” you laughed bitterly through your tears. “just so you could cheat on me with my best friend?” your voice cracked. “that’s why?”

juhoon remained silent. his shoulders shook almost imperceptibly. “jiwoo probably doesn’t even fucking like you.”

another step, then another. “she used you.” you were close enough now to see fresh tears streaming down his face. “she did it because she wanted to ruin me.”

he slowly took another step backward without thinking. his heel landed dangerously close to the edge.

his eyes flickered behind him, and the realization crossed his face immediately.

he straightened slightly. “y/n…” his voice was barely above a whisper. “back up a little.”

you didn’t even hear him. all you could hear was your own heartbeat pounding violently inside your ears.

all you could see was every broken promise.

every ignored phone call.

every empty chair across the dinner table.

every tear you had cried alone.

“i loved you.” your voice broke completely.

you took another step.

“i loved you so much it hurt.”

you stood directly in front of him now. your finger pressed sharply against the center of his chest.

“i always put you before myself.” your shove wasn’t hard. it barely moved him.

“i always cared more about your feelings than my own.”

his breathing quickened. “y/n…” his voice became urgent. “i’m gonna…”

you didn’t stop.

“i truly…” your finger jabbed against his chest a second time. “…hope it was worth it.”

the movement was small. so small that, later, your mind would replay it a thousand times trying to convince yourself it hadn’t happened.

his foot searched for solid ground but there wasn’t any.

his weight shifted backward, his eyes widening.

his arms instinctively reached outward, desperately searching for something to hold onto.

there was nothing.

“y/n.” your name escaped his lips in a frightened whisper.

his body tilted farther backward while you watched it happen in horrifying slow motion.

his balance disappeared completely, his shoes slipping over the edge.

for one impossible second, he seemed suspended in the air, his face frozen somewhere between shock and regret as the wind caught his jacket.

then gravity took him.

“juhoon!” the scream tore itself from your throat before you even realized you had moved.

you lunged forward, throwing yourself toward the edge with both hands outstretched.

your fingertips brushed against his and for the briefest fraction of a second, they touched.

then they slipped apart.

his hand remained reaching toward you as he fell, fingers desperately extended as though he still believed you could somehow pull him back.

tears streamed freely from his eyes, carried upward by the rushing wind.

he never looked away from you.

not once.

your name formed silently on his lips again, then he disappeared beneath the edge.

“no!” you collapsed onto your knees as you looked over the rooftop.

far below, his body plummeted toward the pavement impossibly fast, becoming smaller and smaller until a sickening thud echoed through the night.

the sound ripped through you.

it didn’t even seem real.

for one long, unbearable second everything became silent.

then came the screaming.

distant voices rose from the street below, filled with confusion and horror as people rushed toward where he had fallen. someone cried out for an ambulance. another voice shouted for someone to call the police.

your entire body went numb.

you stumbled backward away from the edge so quickly that you nearly fell yourself.

your hands flew to your mouth.

your chest tightened so violently that no matter how desperately you tried to inhale, your lungs refused to cooperate.

air wouldn’t come.

your heartbeat became deafening.

your vision blurred until you could barely see through the tears pouring uncontrollably down your face.

instinct took over.

before anyone below could think to look upward, you retreated farther into the darkness of the rooftop, pressing yourself against the wall with trembling legs that refused to hold your weight.

your entire body shook uncontrollably.

you clutched at your chest, desperately trying to force yourself to breathe, but every breath caught painfully in your throat before dissolving into another broken sob.

this wasn’t supposed to happen.

you hadn’t wanted this.

you had only wanted answers.

instead, the man you had loved for eight years had disappeared over the edge right in front of you, and the image of his outstretched hand reaching helplessly toward yours burned itself into your mind so deeply that you knew you would never escape it.

©cortismoon all rights reserved. Please do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[akarireadss22]

what did i just read. holy. dear writer i think you're amazing.

[hyuneskkami]

:ঌ THROUGH MY EYES ⭑ Z.YF ㅗ ໒:

📬 ❤︎ james 𝔁 sixth member!gf!reader ─── ৻ꪆ comforting james after he feels insecure about himself.

❤︎ warnings+tags ─── ৻ꪆ angst/comfort, reverse comfort, vulnerability, insecurities, crying, emotional breakdown, kissing, cuddling, me hella projecting onto jamesyn ☹️

💌 ❤︎ notes ─── ৻ꪆ wait guys this is not funny why did i cry for a whole two minutes while picking out the photos on the top for my banner ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ fuck

❤︎ wc ─── ৻ꪆ 2.3k

𝄞 𓏸 my cortispilledmasterlist »﹙合﹚

❝ tracklist ❞ ─── gilded lily—cults ❦ demons—alec benjamin ❦ mirrors—pvris ❦ liability—lorde ❦ scars to your beautiful—alessia cara ❦ to build a home—the cinematic orchestra ❦ fix you—coldplay ❦ fine line—harry styles ❦ matilda—harry styles ❦ exile—taylor swift ft. bon iver ❦ little freak—harry styles ❦ pluto projector—rex orange county ❦ sweet—cas ❦ turn—the wombats ❦ we’re going to be friends—the white stripes

the rehearsal studio mirrors were always too loud when the room went quiet, reflecting every sharp angle of your body and the slight, exhausted tremble in your knees, but nothing felt as loud as the notification that popped up on your phone screen. you had been leaning against the ballet barre, catching your breath while the choreographer adjusted the speaker volume, when you pulled your phone out of your cargo pants. 

the weverse notification was right there at the top of your screen. a fan had commented on a photo of james from his recent weverse update, ‘his face card never declines’. a standard, sweet compliment meant to stay buried in the endless scroll of idol praise. but it was james’ account handle right beneath it that made your heart drop into your stomach.

‘never thought i had one.’

the words looked so tiny on the screen, so casual, but you knew him well enough to read the staggering weight of defeat behind them. you knew about the tabs he’d been opening late at night when he thought juhoon and you were asleep in your shared room, the way his thumb would relentlessly scroll through search results for ‘cortis visual hole’ and the brutal forums where strangers dissected his features with clinical cruelty.

“hey,” you said, your voice cutting through the heavy studio air as you looked over at the choreographer, already grabbing your gym bag from the floor. “i have to go. something came up at the dorm. i’ll be here two hours early tomorrow to make up for the rest of this run-through, i promise. i’m so sorry!—”you didn’t even wait for a proper response, just throwing a polite, rushed bow before slipping out the heavy acoustic doors, your sneakers squeaking against the hallway floor.

the taxi ride back was a blur of neon city lights and the sharp ache of anxiety building in your chest. you kept staring out the window, chewing on the inside of your cheek, thinking about how unfair it was that the oldest member of cortis—the boy who held the group together with his quiet kindness and undeniable talent—was currently drowning in self-doubt all alone.

when you finally let yourself into the dorm, the silence hit you first. it wasn’t a peaceful quiet; it felt heavy, stagnant, like the air in a room that hadn’t been lived in for days. you kicked off your shoes by the door and walked down the short hallway toward your shared room, your heart hammering against your ribs.

when you pushed the door open, the sight of him made a sudden, sharp wave of sadness wash over you so intensely it felt physical. james was just sitting on the edge of his unmade mattress, his long legs drawn up slightly, his hands loosely clasped between his knees. the curtains were half-drawn, letting in only a dim, grey slice of late afternoon light that caught the dust motes dancing in the air. he wasn’t crying, he wasn’t on his phone anymore; he was just staring blankly at a spot on the hardwood floor, his shoulders hunched inward as if he were trying to occupy as little space in the universe as possible. he looked so small in his oversized black HYBE hoodie, stripped entirely of the stage presence he usually forced himself to wear like armor.

you didn’t say anything at first. you just quietly dropped your bag by the door and walked over, the floorboards giving a faint, familiar creak beneath your weight. you sat down right next to him on the mattress, the spring shifting beneath you. he didn’t look up immediately, but you saw the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his eyelashes fluttered as he swallowed hard, acknowledging your presence without having the energy to meet your eyes.

“how dare you call yourself not pretty?” your voice broke the silence, soft but laced with a fierce, protective ache that made his shoulders flinch slightly. you reached out, your fingers gently finding his chin and tilting his face toward yours, forcing him to look at you. his eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles under them looking almost like bruises in the dim light, and his lips were dry and bitten raw. “jamie, look at me. please, just look at me. you are quite literally the most beautiful human i’ve ever laid eyes on. you look like a damn angel. how could you reply to a fan like that? do you have any idea what you put me through seeing you say something so heartbreaking while i’m stuck at practice?"

he finally let out a ragged breath, his gaze wavering before he looked down at your hands, his fingers idly tracing the cuff of your sleeve. “you shouldn’t have left practice for me,” he mumbled, his voice thick and scraped raw from hours of silence. “i didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it. it just... it came out before i could think. i just got tired of pretending like i don’t see what everyone else sees. you know what the comments call me. i’m the ‘visual hole’. when we stand in a line for photo walls, i can see the cameras shifting away from me to focus on the others. i see the edit videos where they crop me out. i just look at the mirror sometimes, especially after the stylists finish with me, and i don’t see an idol. yn. i see someone who doesn’t belong in this group. i feel like i’m ruining the image of cortis just by standing there.”

“james, stop saying that, please,” you pleaded, your voice cracking as your own eyes started to fill with tears. “you’re the heart of this group. cortis doesn’t even exist without you. how can you think you’re ruining anything, baby?”

“because it’s all people talk about sometimes,” he whispered, a sharp sob breaking through his words as he finally looked into your eyes, his gaze frantic and shattered. “it’s not just the comments. it’s the way it makes me feel inside. like i’m constantly wearing a mask that doesn’t fit. every time i get on stage, i feel like a fucking fraud, yn. i see the way the light catches the other members, how effortlessly perfect they look, and then i see my own reflection in the monitor and i just want to… disappear. it’s this constant, suffocating weight in my chest that tells me i’m not enough, that i’ll never look good enough, no matter how hard i try or how much weight i lose or how much makeup they put on me. it makes me feel so small, so completely worthless, and it terrifies me that everyone else sees it too… that you can see it too.” he paused. “i look in the mirror and i hate what i see, and then i feel guilty because i’m an idol and i’m supposed to be confident, but i’m just... i’m just breaking down over a stupid screen.”

“it’s not stupid if it’s hurting you this badly,” you said softly, the tears spilling over your cheeks as you leaned in closer, wrapping your arms securely around his neck and pulling his heavy frame against your chest. your own vision blurred completely as you felt him hesitate for a fraction of a second before he completely collapsed into you, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder, his hands gripping the back of your damp practice shirt so tightly his knuckles turned white. “but those people online don’t know anything. they don’t see the real you, james. they don’t know the millions of reasons why i love you, or the little things that make you so incredibly special. please listen to me.”

“how can you even look at me like this?” he choked out, his whole body shuddering against yours as a loud, breathless cry escaped his throat. “i’m a mess. i’m sitting here crying over netizen comments while you’re working hard at the studio. i feel so pathetic.”

“you’re not pathetic,” you said fiercely, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face, your thumbs desperately wiping away the thick dampness on his cheeks. “i love you because you are the kindest, most selfless person i have ever met. i love the way your eyes crinkle up into tiny, perfect crescents when you’re genuinely laughing at something stupid, and how your nose does that little twitch whenever you’re about to sneeze. i love the way you always make sure everyone else has eaten and liked their food before you even look at your own plate, and how you stay up late to help the younger members with their dance or vocals even when you’re completely exhausted yourself. i love the quiet, gentle way you speak to me when it’s just the two of us, like i’m the only thing that matters in the entire world. i love how you love people around you. so how can you say you aren’t enough when you’re everything to me?”

“but what about the fans?” he sobbed, his eyes wide and glossy with pain, his lips trembling violently. “what about the people who buy the albums and see me and get disappointed? i want to look perfect for them. i want them to be proud to say i’m in their favorite group.”

“they are proud of you, james. the real fans love you for exactly who you are, and the ones who don’t? they don’t deserve a single second of your thoughts,” you pressed your forehead against his, letting him feel the warmth of your breath, your voice dropping to a fierce, emotional whisper. “and physically? james, you are breathtaking. i love the soft slope of your jawline, and the way your hair falls perfectly across your forehead when you wake up in the morning. i love the tiny mole on your nose that the stylists always try to cover up with concealer, but it’s my absolute favorite thing to kiss. i love the warmth of your hands and the way your lips feel when you smile against mine. you’re not a visual hole, you’re a masterpiece, and i need you to start seeing yourself through my eyes because my eyes only see perfection when they look at you. please, tell me you hear me. tell me you believe me even just a little bit.”

“yn, i swear i want to,” he wept openly now, the walls completely broken down as he let out a raw, painful sound that made your own chest heave with fresh, violent tears. “i want to believe you so badly. it just hurts so much inside. i’m so tired of feeling like this.”

“i know, baby, i know,” you whispered into his hair, your own tears streaming down your face in earnest now, dripping onto his hair and sliding down his neck as you squeezed him as tight as your arms would allow. the room was entirely filled with the sound of your shared crying, the agonising release of all the pain he’d been harboring silently, and the desperate, fiercely protective love you kept pouring into him with every ragged breath you took. you rocked him through the violent tremors of his body, crying just as hard as he was, your hearts beating erratically against each other’s ribs in the dim, grey light. “i’ve got you. i’m right here. we’re going to get through this together, i promise you.”

when the heavy, gasping sobs finally started to slow down, leaving both of you completely spent and trembling, you pulled back just enough to look at him through your swollen, wet eyes. you used the pads of your thumbs to tenderly wipe away the remaining tears, your hands shaking slightly from the emotional toll. his nose was bright red, his eyes puffy and glassy, but to you, he had never looked more precious, more real, or more stunningly beautiful.

“look at me, jamie,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his cheek as you kissed a lingering tear away. “are you still in there? still listening to my voice?”

“yeah,” he whispered, his breath hitching as he tried to stabilise his breathing. “i’m listening.”

“good,” you said softly, leaning forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead, then to the bridge of his nose, and finally against his lips—a slow, reassuring pressure that tasted heavily of salt and shared sorrow, but carried all the quiet, unbreakable devotion you couldn’t put into words. “let’slie down. no more phones, no more comments. just us.”

“okay,” he whispered against your wet lips. you pulled gently at his waist until he complied, letting himself be guided backward onto the tangled sheets. you curled yourself directly into his side, throwing one leg over his thighs and resting your head squarely on his chest, listening to the steady, gradually calming rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his arm wound tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth, his fingers still twitching with the residual adrenaline of his tears.

“thank you,” he whispered into the quiet of the bedroom, his voice still incredibly small and raspy from crying, but the sharp, suffocating tension in his frame had finally begun to melt away, leaving him soft, vulnerable, and safe in your arms. “i don’t deserve you. i really don’t.”

“you deserve the whole world,” you corrected him quietly, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of his fabric softener and skin as you gripped his hoodie tightly. “and i’m going to spend every single day reminding you until you finally believe it.”

💌 ❤︎ notes ─── ৻ꪆ i didn’t wanna take up space before the fic to yap so i moved the notes part down but what i wanted to say was.. this fic is more than just words to me. there’s been so many instances in my own life where i’ve felt like i was the ugly one of my friend group or not smart enough or not pretty enough and just.. not enough. when i first saw james in august ‘25, i don’t know what it was, but i genuinely felt like i saw pieces of me in him or vice versa. and when he was subtly making self-deprecating comments about himself (but people tried to call it ‘humility’ when it really wasn’t), i think i finally found home in him.

and ik i joke a lot about being a james stan and saying goofy stuff all the time but i wanna admit that he’s just so painfully relatable, to me. yk how that thing where people say “you choose your bias because you see yourself in them”? i think that’s exactly why he’s my bias </3 i try to never bring heavy topics ab myself onto my blog bc most of u follow me for my fics but this one fic has become an exception; im sorry ):

i also think that’s why writing this specific story was so heavy, but so necessary for me. it wasn’t just about building on a supposedly ‘small’ comment he made today; it was about pouring all those late-night thoughts, the suffocating insecurities, and the silent breakdowns into a space where they could finally be held and comforted. seeing someone you look up to battle the exact same quiet demons you do is a strange, comforting kind of ache. it reminds you that you aren’t alone, but it also makes you want to protect them from the very things that hurt you.

when i write scenes of him being held and reminded of his worth, i’m reminding myself of mine too. so i wanted to give him the gentle, unwavering love that we all deserve to receive when we feel entirely invisible.

to anyone who read this and felt a little too close to the words: i hope this fic felt like a soft place to land. thank you for letting me share a piece of my heart with you <3

© hyuneskkami ❦

[hyuneskkami]

❝ calling all yns ❞  ─── pt 1 ঌ @jjuhyeons @miisoluvsdeer @its-vante @angelyseo @sailuvsu @sevvycoer @chbq2 @miseulsoup @bananabread785 @sstrawbxrry @eomgelic @griinspire @lcvehyeon @stxrrymarsz @ilovegojosatoru13 @lunaryoongie @aphantassia @teacuplps @marsgirltyshi @qngelical @thesvxntyb @mxddi3-the-mnm-lover @nic-andhisfics @yatta-exe @sw4gprinc3ss @casszzzii @whitefang1919 @hollyoongs @haezki @enhaha94 @lurvno @mercilessasylumoracle @mershyjershy @eunjjx @one-chance-pls @r0ckst4rjk @letterstohyeon @yaksokhay @rixieisfreaky @simpqueen2025 @hiitzstar @sese-blurbs @seonghwaswifeuuuu @wonllitz @fromsaltandsea @demiurqe @inadazeee @frizzyyo @toomanyfanficsbruh @eoduuung

[akarireadss22]

GIRL... SKYE WHAT 😭🫀

[hyuneskkami]

:ঌ SWEETER THAN STRAWBERRIES ⭑ A.KN ㅗ ໒:

📬 ❤︎ keonho 𝔁 gf!reader ─── ৻ꪆ a slow sunday afternoon of stolen strawberry kisses and cozy kitchen cuddles.

❤︎ warnings+tags ─── ৻ꪆ fluff · domestic keonyn · kissing · tumblr fanfiction mentioned 😭😭😭😭😭😭 eli imy 😭😭

💌 ❤︎ notes ─── ৻ꪆ i love fluffy domestic!cortis so much you guys have NO idea omfg 🥹 · also this fic is inspired by a samsung (hyunjin and han)(the name cracks me up EVERY time lmfao) gifset that i cant find rn 💞 · and uhh this fic is also an apology to everybody who read glimpse of us & our summer before this 😭

❤︎ wc ─── ৻ꪆ 2.3k

𝄞 𓏸 my cortispilledmasterlist »﹙合﹚

❝ tracklist ❞ ─── strawberries & cigarettes—troye sivan ❦ lovelee—akmu ❦ sunday morning—maroon5 ❦ dimple—bts ❦ every summertime—niki ❦ dar+ling—svt ❦ come thru—jeremy zucker ❦ best part—daniel caesar ❦ through the night—iu ❦ glue song—beabadoobee ❦ instagram—dean ❦ warm on a cold night—honne ❦ sweet night—v ❦ until i found you—stephen sanchez

the kitchen was quiet, bathed in that warm, sleepy glow of a late sunday afternoon where the hours just sort of bled into each other. you were sitting sideways in one of the dining chairs, your legs hooked over the armrest, completely lost in whatever you were scrolling through on your phone—some fanfiction about keonho and tan lines by one of your favourite tumblr author @cosmiho. 

the only sound was the rhythmic, gentle scrape of a knife against a cutting board across the room. after a few moments, the sound stopped. then came the familiar, soft scuff of socks against the hardwood floor.

before you could even look up, a heavy, comforting weight settled right against your side. keonho didn’t take his own chair; instead, he leaned over the back of yours, his broad chest pressing into your shoulder. he brought the faint, clean scent of his laundry detergent and something sweet with him, instantly making the space feel warmer. he didn’t say anything at first, just rested his chin heavily on your shoulder, watching your phone screen with lazy interest.

you tilted your head, your cheek brushing against his messy dark hair. “what are you doing, keon?”

“waiting for you to look at me, baby,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a low, rumbling vibration that sent a tiny shiver down your spine. he shifted slightly, pulling back just enough so you were forced to turn your head and face him.

in his hand, he held a small, perfectly cut piece of strawberry, glistening with a bit of sugar. he was looking at you with that soft, intensely focused expression he only ever saved for you, a tiny, fond smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“open your mouth, come on,” he said softly, nudging the strawberry a little closer to your face. “i picked the sweetest one for you.”

you let out a soft huff, a helpless smile breaking across your face. “i can feed myself, you know.”

“where’s the romance in that?” he teased, his dark eyes crinkling beautifully at the corners. he moved the fruit a millimeter closer, his thumb lightly brushing against your lower lip to coax you. “come on. say aah.” 

amused by how stubborn he was being, you gave in. you let your phone drop onto your lap, leaning forward slightly, and parted your lips to take the bite.

but the exact millisecond your eyes fluttered shut, keonho’s hand abruptly dropped.

the strawberry was completely forgotten, abandoned on the plate below. in a split second, his hand moved to cup your jaw, his warm thumb catching the corner of your mouth. he tilted your face up, leaning over the chair completely, and swooped in to steal your breath away.

his lips caught yours with a soft, confident pressure. it wasn’t a rushed kiss; it was slow, deep, and thoroughly affectionate, full of the easy, established comfort of a relationship where you already knew each other’s rhythms by heart. you could feel him smiling against your mouth, a quiet laugh vibrating through him as your hands instinctively flew up to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him closer out of pure surprise. he tasted faintly of fruit, and his lips were incredibly soft as he lingered, deepening the kiss just enough to make your head spin before gently pulling back.

when he finally detached his lips from yours, he didn’t go far at all. he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. his thumb was still gently stroking your cheek, and the look in his eyes was so incredibly soft it made your chest ache.

“sweeter than strawberries, right?” he whispered, his voice entirely devoid of its usual teasing edge, replaced by pure, unadulterated fondness.

you blinked up at him, your cheeks burning a bright, dusty pink, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. you swatted weakly at his chest. “you are literally the worst, keon. that’s cheating.”

he just chuckled, a bright, boyish sound that echoed in the quiet kitchen. he ducked down again, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your burning cheek, then another one to the tip of your nose, completely unbothered by your complaints.

“it’s not cheating if it works,” he hummed, finally picking up the forgotten strawberry and popping it into his own mouth.

he managed to squeeze himself into the small chair right next to you, his arm slung over your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his side like it was the only place you were supposed to be. he took your hand in his, playing with your fingers, tracing the lines of your palm with his thumb, completely content.

“you’re still staring,” you murmured, looking up from his hands to find his eyes fixed entirely on your face.

keonho didn’t even blink. a soft, breathless smile tugged at his lips. “can’t help it. you look really pretty right now. especially with your hair all messy like that.”

“it’s messy because a certain someone kept pulling me closer,” you huffed, though you couldn’t stop the warmth blooming in your chest.

“yeah? well, that someone has excellent taste,” he teased, his voice dropping to a low, affectionate hum. he leaned down, resting his cheek against the top of your head for a second before shifting so his face was level with yours again. his thumb softly brushes over your cheekbone. “seriously, though. i was thinking about it while i was cutting the fruit earlier.”

“thinking about what?”

“just... how lucky i am,” he said simply. the teasing edge completely faded from his voice, replaced by that quiet, intense sincerity that always caught you off guard. he looked at you like you were the only person in the entire world. “i was just looking at you sitting there, and i realized i don’t ever want to be anywhere else. just here. with you, baby. doing absolutely nothing.”

your heart did a familiar, violent flip in your chest. “keon… i was literally reading x reader fanfictions about you…”

“you’re giving me more reasons to love you,” he whispered, slightly laughing, leaning in a little closer until your noses brushed. his eyes dipped to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto yours. “seriously though… you have this way of making everything feel okay—even a boring sunday. i think i’m just completely ruined for anyone else.”

you let out a soft, helpless laugh, burying your face in his chest for a second to hide your massive smile. you could hear the steady, rapid thumping of his heartbeat beneath his shirt—proving that he wasn’t nearly as cool and collected as he pretends to be.

“you’re smooth,” you mumbled against his shirt.

his chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, his arms tightening around your waist to pull you even closer, burying his face in your neck. “not smooth. just incredibly, ridiculously in love with you. get used to it.” he shifted slightly, shaking with that low, warm laugh as he listened to you mumble against his shirt. before you could even raise your head to tease him back, he was moving again. “let me show you smooth,” he murmured, his tone dropping into that playful, completely smitten cadence.

he started with your jawline, pressing a row of tiny, feather-light kisses right along the edge of it. the sudden warmth of his lips against your skin made you giggle, a tiny, involuntary bubble of laughter escaping your throat.

“stop, it tickles,” you complained, though your hands were already moving up to bunch into the soft fabric of his hoodie, holding him close instead of pushing him away.

he didn’t listen at all. if anything, your reaction only encouraged him. he moved up to your cheek, leaving three quick, loud kisses there that made you wrinkle your nose and giggle properly, the sound bright and clear in the quiet kitchen.

“can’t stop… you’re just so kissable,” he hummed against your skin, his lips moving against your cheek as he spoke. “i have too much love to give. it’s a serious problem,” he nodded while talking.  he peppered you with kisses—your temples, your eyebrow, and then moved down to the corner of your eye, his eyelashes brushing against your skin like butterfly wings. you were laughing openly now, your shoulders shaking, your entire body warm and relaxed against his. you tried to duck your head away, burying your face toward his shoulder to hide, but he just followed you down, his hand sliding up to the back of your head to gently guide you back up.

“look at me,” he whispered, a massive, dimpled grin stretching across his face when you finally peeked up at him through your lashes.

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the center of your forehead, then another right on the tip of your nose, and you couldn’t help it anymore. the sheer, dizzying affection pooling in your chest just overflowed.

you leaned up slightly, catching him by surprise as you pressed a soft, sweet kiss right to his cheek. then another one to the corner of his mouth.

his breath hitched, his eyes widening just a fraction before melting entirely. the triumphant, teasing smirk he usually wore completely vanished, replaced by a look of pure, helpless adoration.

“two can play at that game, baby,” you whispered against his lips, smiling when you felt his arms tighten around your waist like a vice, pulling you so close there was absolutely no space left between you.

“yeah?” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, completely breathless as he leaned his forehead against yours. “prove it.”

and you did, leaning in to kiss him properly this time, your lips slotting together perfectly while the forgotten plate of fruit sat on the counter, completely abandoned for the rest of the afternoon.

the kiss stretched out, long and entirely unhurried, until you were both breathless and smiling so hard against each other’s lips that it became impossible to keep going. keonho let out a soft, contented sigh, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist like a human blanket. you could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, stabilising after the flurry of kisses.

“we are never leaving this chair,” he mumbled against your skin, his warm breath sending a pleasant shiver down your arms. “the rest of the world is cancelled today.”

“keon, my legs are going to fall asleep,” you laughed, though you didn’t make a single move to untangle yourself from him. instead, your fingers found their way into the soft strands of hair at the back of his neck, gently playing with the stray locks.

“then they fall asleep. a worthy sacrifice, if i say so myself,” he retorted, his voice muffled by your shoulder. he shifted slightly, managing to wiggle even deeper into the small space of the dining chair until you were practically sitting in his lap. he reached down and pulled your legs over his own, rubbing his hands up and down your calves to keep them warm. “there. solved. they’ll wake up soon.”

you shook your head at his ridiculousness, resting your cheek against the top of his head. the kitchen was growing slightly darker as the sun began its slow descent, throwing long, amber shadows across the hardwood floor. the absolute stillness of the house made the moment feel incredibly private, like you were tucked away in a little pocket universe where nothing bad could ever touch you.

after a few minutes of quiet, he tilted his head up, his dark eyes sparkling with a new, playful idea. “hey.”

“hm?”

“look at me.”

when you looked down at him, he suddenly puffed out his cheeks, widening his eyes in a goofy, exaggerated pout that looked completely ridiculous on his handsome face. you tried to keep a straight face, you really did, but a loud snort escaped you, followed by a wave of genuine giggles.

“what are you doing?” you laughed, poking one of his puffed-out cheeks until the air deflated with a soft popping sound.

“i was testing a theory,” he said confidently, his face instantly melting into a bright, dimpled grin that reached his eyes. “and my theory was correct. you look even prettier when you laugh.”

“you are such a sap today,” you murmured, your heart doing that familiar, melt-into-a-puddle thing. you reached out, using your thumbs to gently trace the shape of his eyebrows, then the bridge of his nose, and finally the soft curve of his lips. he stayed completely still for you, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch with absolute docility, letting you map out his face as if you hadn’t seen it a thousand times before.

when he opened his eyes again, the playfulness was gone, replaced by that deep, heavy warmth that always made you feel completely safe. he caught your hand, kissing the center of your palm, then each of your knuckles one by one.

“i can be a sap for the rest of our lives,” he whispered, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. “i think i’d be really good at it.”

you smiled, leaning down to press a gentle, unhurried kiss to his forehead. “yeah, you’re already a professional at the ripe age of seventeen.”

he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound against your chest. he pulled you back down against him, resting his chin on your head as the two of you resumed your quiet watch over the empty kitchen. your fingers stayed intertwined, moving lazily together in the fading sunday light, completely content to let the rest of the evening slip away unnoticed.

© hyuneskkami ❦

[okhyn]

MILLION DOLLAR MAN 💸 rich bf!james texts ❛ 𝗐𝖾’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾 && 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗀𝗇𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 🥂 ❜

( PRÉCIS ) 𝑓!grlfrnd 👜 bf!james ✶ fluff 🪷 𝑒𝑠𝑡 relationship PEARLS&CO𓈒 杂志

pensieri made this in a rush so pls ignore the timestamps ! likes and reblogs are much appreciated

[dolliriuo]

pretty plzzz ● juhoon

" pretty please, i just need to know

if my tight jeans ain't matching with your coat "

in which ؛ଓ : juhoon's nervous leading up to his first date with you as your official boyfriend

juhoon x female ! reader

──── `` i said i wouldn't post but here we are again.. need to revise for bio oh wells

taglist ㅤ : @yesongi @chnvle @chbq2 @junpom @ilovegojosatoru13 @atdeerhunter @09zpzkeonnss @lilbuzi @hueningaholic @toj1sgf @jungwonsrealwife1 @lunaryoongie @one-chance-pls @tinybitofhope @weiner123 @finnjimin @hyeonverse @tiiikii @princess6777777 / join here!

[loveqnai]

STARGIRL, 6th MEMBER CHRONICLE

synopsis, you are the sixth member of CORTIS— a co-ed group formed under hybe. you were one of the first people to join the band, followed by the others. being the only girl in the group is far worse than you anticipated, but you love it (don't tell them that). [smau + written series]

author's note, man i sure hope people aren't lazy and read the whole thing 👀 👀 👀 first written part of the series because i am a writer at heart, and angst lover at that. went easy with this one (you thought this series is gonna be all shits and giggles? 😹😹). rare self glaze but i actually like this one. also, the masterlist will be up pretty soon, so yeah. enjoyy!! please let me know in the comments if you guys liked it, i love reading them.

pairing, CORTIS X sixthmember!reader , keonho x reader

chapter synopsis, when pretty isn't pretty enough, what do you do? you succumb to the never-ending void of self loathe. when keonho cracks a joke too close to home, you break, and he finally puts things together and realises what that unamed feeling had been in the back of his mind the entire time. [wc- 3.2k, angst, comfort, body shaming, breakdown, self hatred.]

ᝰ.ᐟ chapter two- pretty isn't pretty.

Anaïs Nin once wrote, "We don't see things as they are; we see them as we are." You could never tell whether the mirror reflected your face or your self-loathing. You weren’t ugly by any means. People would argue that you were one of the prettiest people they had ever seen, and wished they could have your face. ‘Please take it, I don’t like it anyway.’ would be your response.

You could change your hair colour, change up your body, try a new makeup style, try new clothes– but you would always hate yourself. It wasn’t a fact anymore, it was a lifestyle for you. Every outfit became another attempt to disguise someone you couldn't bear meeting in the mirror. 

A self loathing person’s biggest fear is another person voicing out exactly what goes on inside their mind. A small comment, just a ‘that doesn’t seem like your colour’, is enough of a spark to start a forest fire. Being a trainee at the ripe age of thirteen, the peak of teenagehood, was not for the faint-hearted. 

‘You’ve gained weight.’

‘You look ugly from this angle.’

‘You’re not doing it right.’

‘You will definitely have to get surgeries once you become an adult to fit the standards.’

‘To fit the standards’, the unmeetable, unbearable standards. That sentence was like a screeching, obnoxious noise to your ears. Like nails scratching against a chalkboard. No matter what you did, no matter how much you tried reaching for it, the ‘standards’ would always get further away. You never met them. You don’t think you ever could.

Our self-worth dictates the treatment and affection we allow into our lives. ‘We accept the love we think we deserve’, as it goes. But what about a person who deemed themselves worthless over time? Do they allow themselves to be mistreated constantly? Do they smile as the words pierce through them like daggers?

You would look in the mirror and see the answer right there. Yes, they would. For ‘they’ was none other than you. 

When you were told that you would be debuting in a co-ed group with five other boys, you couldn’t think of a worse nightmare. A group of boys, with a singular girl. It didn’t feel co-ed, it felt forced. It felt like you were being put in a place where you didn’t belong. When the group debuted, the audience felt the same. But with time, you grew on them, and became so loved it was beyond anything you could fathom.

It didn’t change your perspective of yourself. You still looked in the mirror and recoiled, still begged the crew to cut your footage out from vlogs, still cried secretly before performances because you couldn’t let yourself be seen by the world without feeling judged.

No one in the group knew. You never told them. You couldn’t, because you knew what their response would be. You didn’t want anyone’s pity, anyone’s sympathy because none of it would change the way you look. None of it would make you feel pretty.

No one in the group knew, except for Martin. You hadn’t outright told him, but he knew. He always knew. From the way you would hide your face with a laugh when the camera was pointed at you, when you said ‘No, don’t show my face I look so bad,’ during lives, or when you would go silent during the jokes. He never laughed. Not because he felt bad or didn’t want you feeling bad– but because he never found them funny.

You knew he knew, but this was a topic you two never talked about. He didn’t press, you didn’t start. It stayed that way, until LA.

You were all roaming the streets, trying food places, thrift stores– basically teenagers in the wild with one responsible adult that was James. You weren’t so sure about the responsible part.

Keonho and you had a weird relationship. You two flirted, then fought, teased each other, sometimes resorted to borderline violence while bullying each other. No one understood the dynamic, but everyone got used to it with the passage of time.

At the thrift store, you both had spotted a pair of sunglasses, which you both liked. You both had the terrible habit of fixating on something and stubbornly wanting it until it was yours. So, the fight that broke out was inevitable. 

It started off with the usual bickering and bantering, something that the other members chose wisely to ignore. Initially, the glasses sat on your face as you reluctantly looked in the mirror. You never liked what you saw, but you could pretend to for the sake of seeming normal.

“Take those glasses off and give the world the sight of your bright eyes,” Keonho said as he attempted to snatch the glasses away.

“Take that hat off and give the world a void of that forehead.” You replied, earning laughter from the other members including Keonho himself. You would regret making that comment in the grand scheme of things, knowing what was coming.

“I’m telling you, these look better on me!” Keonho tried convincing you, but you wouldn’t budge.

“No they don’t, stop lying to yourself.”

The fight had continued till outside the store, even when the glasses were secured in your hands, bought from your money.

"You’re such a stubborn girl.” Keonho scoffed.

“You were literally crying for it inside, who are you kidding?” You laughed at him.

The words that would leave Keonho’s mouth would shock him too. It would be a frantic retort, a need to get back at you in the joking manner he always did. But maybe it wouldn’t be a joke anymore. Not at the cost of your tears.

“Go on, put them on so we don’t have to see your ugly face anymore. Please hide it, no one wants to see it.” He said with that mock disgust expression, stepping away from you as if you were the plague. James caught the comment, and immediately whipped around to glare at him.

“Ahn Keonho. Too far.” He scolded the younger boy. But you were too busy trying to process the words. Your mind immediately agreed. You didn’t even try to take it as a joke, because it wasn’t. Not for you. Never for you.

You didn’t quite understand it yourself. You looked in the mirror everyday and uttered the same things to yourself. So why did it hurt when someone else said it, especially when they didn’t mean it at all? Was it because you were so adamant on proving yourself right, that no matter what people said about you, you would always only register the negative things? Or was it because you had brainwashed yourself into altering the truth according to you? You’d never know.

Nevertheless, you handed him the bag with the damned glasses wordlessly, and walked right ahead where the others were. Keonho stood there dumbfounded, his fingers loosely curled around the bag. James sighed, giving him a disappointed look before following after you.

It took him a minute to catch on, before he sprinted towards you. You were walking just a little behind the others, when he caught up. 

“Hey, I was only joking.” He said, his voice tinged with worry. You didn’t say anything.

“Y/N, I was only joking. You know that.” He repeated himself, desperation lacing his words. You still didn’t say anything.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I don’t think you’re ugly. I literally flirt with you all the time.” That earned him an eyeroll, and you began walking faster to catch up with the group.

“Y/N, wait-”

“You didn’t mean it like that, I got it already.” You huffed, finally snapping as you pulled your hand away from his grasp. That got the others’ attention. They turned to look at you and your wayward mate.

“Uh, you good?” Juhoon asked, his body only halfway turned as he looked at the two of you. You could only scoff as you pushed past everyone to walk ahead. They all stared at you in confusion. All but one. Martin.

“Man, how do you manage to screw things up with her every time.” Seonghyeon scoffed, rolling his eyes at his best friend. 

“We’ve got Mr. Worldwide fumbler over here.” James muttered sarcastically under his breath.

“Shut your mouth.” Keonho said, before he groaned like a child, then followed after you again.

“Y/N, c’mon! Please talk to me. You know I didn’t actually mean it. We fight like this all the time. You even called my forehead a void! I thought we were even.” He rambled on desperately as he tried to seek your attention, which you made it a point not to give. You stared straight ahead as he frantically and desperately apologised over and over again, threatening to even get on his knees.

“Stop talking, you’re actually pissing me off so hard right now.” You rolled your eyes, but for him it was progress. At least you replied.

“Please, I’m sorry. Look, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll buy you food, and you can keep the glasses. You looked so much better than me in them. I looked like a chopped chud in them, you looked like a gloriously cool girl. My glorious queen-”

You deadpanned at him as your teeth gnawed at the inside of your cheek. He stopped talking immediately, resorting to just walking quietly by your side. The quiet was home to your self-depreciating thoughts, since there was no reasonable voice telling you that you’re wrong.

‘You’ve gained weight.’

‘You look ugly from this angle.’

‘You’re not doing it right.’

‘Go on, put them on so we don’t have to see your ugly face any-’

“Y/N?” Martin’s voice broke you out of your chain of miserable thoughts. “We’re here. You coming with us, or do you need a breather?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m coming with.” You nodded with a tight smile. A smile too fake, so fake that Martin wondered if you were even trying to hide your disdain. He didn’t push it like always, nodding back at you as he went inside. You followed him after a second, and just headed to your room quietly, not bothering to even look at anyone. You stood rigid, with your back to the elevator’s mirror. You didn’t dare turn, until you heard the soft ping of the elevator. 

You made a beeline towards your room, and shut the door. You looked in the mirror in the comfort of your room, and broke into tears again. You wiped at your tears aggressively, they made you look more ugly in your head. Looking in the mirror for you was like looking at holes for a trypophobic person. Holes of failure, holes in your alleged happy life. For a person whose career unfairly revolved around the way she looked, she truly believed that she deserved none of the success. The devil’s advocate constantly muttered the same profanities in her ear, the same words filled with so much venom.

Everyone wondered about something. Martin wondered why you thought so low of yourself, You wondered why you were so meek and why there were ugly things written all over your body, and Keonho wondered why you crumbled when you looked at your reflection.

You jumped when you spotted him standing behind you in the hallway of the room.  

“What the fuck!” You turned to look at him, your voice cracking as you did. It would be humorous in any other situation, but right now? It broke Keonho’s heart in a million pieces, like a mirrorball shattering when it fell.

“Why?” He muttered as he looked at you in pure agony.

“What?”

“Why are you crying?”

“Get out.”

“Why are you crying?” He repeated himself softly, only stepping closer instead of obeying. He looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, crumbling in on yourself in front of his eyes. 

There was a time in the past where he held the same look in his eyes, when you had voiced your fear of not fitting in the group you now call family. The same eyes filled with so much love and sorrow for you.

He reached out and wiped your tears for you, as he listened to the sobs that wrecked your body. You pushed his hand away. 

“I said get out!” You said through your sobs as you pushed against his chest, only for you to pull you into a hug so tight, you thought you two would merge into one.

He only pulled away when your sobs turned to quiet sniffles. You looked away from him, but he chased your gaze, tilting his head to meet your eyes again.

You pushed his face to the side. You felt too vulnerable, too exposed. You hated crying in front of another, it paved a path for them to a spot so vulnerable in you in a way that couldn’t be undone.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand down, away from his face. 

“Why are you crying? Is it because of me?” He asked so softly, you could throw up.

You never bothered talking about your feelings, because you felt that no one cared one bit, the dreariness of it all stopped you. So when Keonho looked at you as if his world didn’t exist beyond the body he was holding, as if the only colour he saw was the colour in your bright eyes, you broke. 

He held you in his arms on your bed, as you spewed out all the filth, the loath and the ugliness that festered in your brain. He listened, never interrupting, never cracking jokes to lighten the mood. And after you were done, it felt quiet. Too quiet for your liking. If you wanted anything other than Keonho by your side, it would be the familiar voice of the devil’s advocate back in your ears. You feared you had gotten used to it, and its absence created a foreign void in your chest. For once, the quiet felt uneasy in a different sense.

You expected him to berate you, to lecture you on how wrong you were about yourself. But all he did was stand up, then kneel down in front of you with your hands in his. He looked up at you with the same eyes he had given you when you were walking back to your hotel. Only this time, they had so much more depth in them, as if he finally understood. 

Keonho wasn’t stupid. He was young, but he noticed everything. He noticed your quickened breathing before concerts that everyone excused as nervousness, he noticed when you leaned out of the frame during lives, he noticed when you hid your face and laughed it off. 

You thought that nobody except for Martin knew. But Keonho did. He knew all along. He had never laughed at the jokes either. But now, as he kneeled in front of you, all he could feel was shame. Not pity, not anger, not empathy. Shame.

Shame for still saying what he said despite everything. Despite knowing in the back of his mind that there was something that bothered you. Something along the lines of the exact sentence he had dared to utter.

‘You’ve gained weight.’

‘You look ugly from this angle.’

‘You’re not doing it right.’

‘Go on, put them on so we don’t have to see your-’

“No, stop. Please stop.” He whispered, squeezing your hands to pull you back from that void of hell. It was as if he could read your mind, and that thought itself made your skin crawl. Could he see all the things you thought of yourself, that even Momus himself would pity?

“I didn’t say anything.” You said quietly, your voice hoarse from all the crying, and maybe even from all the venom that your words contained.

“You don’t have to. I can see right through you.” He said, as he fully settled on the ground, never once leaving your hand. 

“Y/N. I wish you could see yourself through the world’s eyes. You would see the love and adoration they hold for you. I’m so, so sorry for what I said earlier. But you need to know that I didn't mean it. I never could. God, that is something not even the evil version of me could think. Y/N, you’re genuinely the prettiest person I’ve ever met, both inside and out. I wish you saw yourself with the same lens you see the world with. You have so much kindness within you… why do you speak so low about yourself?” He said with a tone so soft it could be mistaken for a lullaby. Maybe for you it was. A lullaby to lure in the sleep of peace long since awaited.

“I don’t know Keonho. I wish I did, but I don’t.”

“Then you don’t have to think about it. Stop listening to what others say. Listen to me. You trust me right?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then instead of a mirror, look at your reflection in my eyes. You’ll fall in love.”

“With you?”

“With yourself, dummy.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, was it too much? I’m just trying to be helpful. I’m really sorry Y/N-” You cut him off with a hug. His words faded into silence. A quiet, that finally didn’t make you feel uneasy. A quiet that blocked out the ugliness, instead of letting it feed. 

He hugged you back with just as much love and tenderness his voice carried, his verbal and physical tones matching. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled. He didn’t say anything, as if being forgiven by you was not his goal anymore. The fight had long since drained from you both.

“All this over sunglasses.” You muttered right after, to which he gently smacked your back. You laughed, and the sound carried away all the tension and sorrow from his body like flood waves. You two stayed like that for a long time.

The devil’s advocate still sat on your shoulder, but now you had a little fight in you. The venom hadn’t magically drained from your body, it was a pestilence. However it felt a lot less toxic and deadly now. Maybe one day you would have the courage to fight it, and maybe someday you would beat it. Not today, but someday. The hope of it all was progress in itself.

Keonho, who had felt a physical pain in his chest at the sight of you crying, now sat on the floor of your room with his arms around you. It soothed the pain, he clenched his palm into a fist away from your skin, just to release the venom he had absorbed from your body when you leaned on him for help. 

You both were two halves of the same whole, and if something was killing you, it would kill him too. So maybe he was selfish in trying to save you. Or maybe it was just a weak cover up for the terrifying amount of love he had in him, all for you.

[taglist: @floatingin-yourdreams@drpepki@ges1ca@whsipy@anglheartz@letterstohyeon @kallistaki12 @rie-diculous @ilovegojosatoru13 @seriluvsya @rawrxnne @jungwonsrealwife1 @seongholiic @yeeyeehaw22

@sillypicklepastaperson-blog @knhlotus @eoduuung @cvntycapricornxx @bellesophiaa @rikchic @1giss4swft3

@katelynluvsniki @pix3lkitten

@mishahassan71 @junpom @wonnieslvr @arasdaydream7 @janjoonty @jamesblondehair

@hoszhe

@ghostgirlgone27

@snow0-0fairy @samsung-67 @elee1q

@kienhawon

@lillieepadd @seonghwaswifeuuuu @darklylucidlegacy

@allaboutmliiza]

; ongoing]

[j4eyxn]

BUTTERFLIES ⋆ EOM SEONGHYEON

currently playing: BUTTERFLIES by BRENT FAIYAZ

❤︎ KITSCH he can’t help falling for you, even if it feels rushed.

‘09 ゛friends to lovers, classmates to lovers, highschool au, teen romance, fluff, hugs, kisses, skinship, heartfelt confessions… ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ CATALOGUE! 812 物語

EOM SEONGHYEON WAS THE QUIETEST BOY YOU KNEW. you couldn’t really tell if you were too loud or if he was just super quiet. you didn’t care much about it. all he remembered was you sitting down next to him on the first day of school in homeroom, with a pretty smile and a floral scent, deciding that you were his friend. no negotiations, no words needed. simply just that smile and your seat next to his.

seonghyeon fell for you rather quickly—in his book he thought so, your presence one that captivated him. you walked to classes together everyday without fail, you walked home together, walked to school together. you ate together, studied at the library together. every second spent with you felt like a dream. it wasn’t anything special: spending time with your friend doing things friends always do.

but to seonghyeon it was so much more.

it wasn’t immediate—but not long, his feelings for you. they grew silently with this vehemence he learnt to express quietly. in the smiles he flashed you every time you made a joke only he’d understand. in the snacks he got you every time he saw your hungry face. in the hushed moments when there was nothing more but silence and your being. he grew accustomed to it. he got used to the butterflies.

the fluttering in his stomach that made the heat rush to his ears, the one that made his heart race. the butterflies he only felt when you were around. you were blissfully unaware of the fact that you kept him up every night. oblivious to the way his eyes lit up when you called him by his name so sweetly.

it only took a month for him to name this feeling love. only one month for him to realise what he wanted forever. one month of memories money couldn’t buy. all because one day you decided he was your friend without saying the words. just showing up every time, giggling at nothing, calling seonghyeon your favourite boy—he was, loving him out loud without the frankness of it. you didn’t need to be candor to know it was true.

“y/n.” he called your name gently. you looked up from your notebook, the softness of his tone tugging on your heartstrings.

“yeah, hyeon?” you breathed out.

“do you know what it’s like to fall in love?” he questioned, out of the blue, inquisitive.

“mm, maybe a thing or two. why?” you hummed, resting your cheek on a palm.

“do you ever look at someone and feel butterflies?”

“um… may…be.” you stammered, rather bashful, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you smiled apprehensively.

“is it okay to be sure that your heart yearns for someone even if it feels too soon?” seonghyeon was never this cheesy, not that you knew of. he was soft, he was gentle but he was never warm in a way that lovers were.

“hyeon.”

“i think i’m in love with you, y/n.” he said, affectionate in a way that made your heart melt like an ice cream.

“you are?” you asked, auspicious and hushed—slightly incredulous.

“i know we’ve only really known each other for a month but i just can’t help it when i’m with you.” his hand reached for yours, his fingers threading through yours slowly.

“really?” your heart pounded.

“there’s nothing i haven’t felt more sure about in my life.” he held your hand to his chest, almost as if he wanted you to feel just how much he loved you, his lips twitching up into that smile you’ve always loved.

“kiss me.” you giggled, your eyes glittering with love and infatuation.

“what?” his eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat. kiss you? the girl of his dreams wanted him to kiss her?

“kiss me, silly.” your smile grew at the sight of his flushed cheeks, your eyes widening as well when his lips pressed against yours.

he didn’t rush—neither of you did, his lips simply moved against yours, warm and soft, like he would never ever let go. you shifted just enough for your lips to fit perfectly, deepening the kiss. his other hand landed on your waist to pull you closer, yours cupping his cheek to tilt his head better. the both of you didn’t want to pull away, you only did because your lungs burned with the need for oxygen.

your foreheads were digging into each others, your chests heaving with deep breaths and the love that lingered in the air.

“i do look at you and feel butterflies, hyeon. and this, it’s okay.” you breathed out, another giggle slipping past your lips when he buried his head in your neck, his arms embracing your body in a hug.

maybe it was a little bit rushed but it was love and that didn’t need a timer.

旋律 >_< hi guyssssssss… finally i can write something short because i was genuinely convinced i lost all abilities to write short works. anywho, i’ll definitely be a little more active but i am still unfortunately on my semi-hiatus. but, it is okay, i will post when i can and try to get some stuff out every now and then. i hope you enjoy, hugs and kisses mwah!

゛TAGLIST @k-records @amoressb @k-oimani1 @miuwoniz @liliikkuma @ririzrecs @eohyeons @yeppiz2 @unakbb @leaderwon @seombaby @sunoomisu @jellywichu @akarireadss22 @09zpzkeonnss @cherishmoka @emotiandon @realseanshady @fshiwore @lovuimuse @nichozzystuffs @ivehan @ceuxnoirst

[yuesning]

MY MEDAL ᠀୧ EOM SEONGHYEON ───── synopsis : seonghyeon doesn't even bother to congratulate the win with his own team, nor does he let his injuries get to him – instead he plays and always runs straight towards the one who was cheering for him after every game.

ᯓ side drabble of : cheer for the player, not the game !

masterlist 𖥨᩠ׄ݁ seonghyeon x f!reader — basketballplayer!seonghyeon, cheerleader!reader, established relationship, highschool au, lowkey keonho x seonghyeon beef, competition, fluff, skin – ship, pecks, swearing, short drabble ( im sorry with these drabbles )

seonghyeon was always competitive when it came to his games; ranting to you about how bad his teamates are during practice, how much the coaches glaze keonho although seonghyeon believes that he isn't that good enough to be the upcoming captain of the team.

you don't usually see him before games as you guys are practically shoved into separate locker rooms and even in different sides of the gymnasium once getting settled – leaving no room to converse. although he doesn't text much before his game, drinking out of his water bottle every five seconds in hopes to wipe the bundle of nerves off his face without using a towel of some sort — you know he's visibly there.

you got this hyeon, remember i'm cheering for you not the game, don't stress this out — he reads the spam messages from you before every game all the time. reassurance is key when it comes to him.

you lock your eyes on him at all times and he knows, he notices with the small glances he makes towards you, he cracks a slight smile everytime. but once the ball releases from his grip for a second, he internally groans, his heart beating faster from being aggravated. he just can't help but know that his medal is waiting for him to accomplish his goals.

"dude stop lacking." keonho whispers as he places a hand on seonghyeons shoulder rushingly, leaving no time for seonghyeon to respond before keonho grabs the basketball from seonghyeons frantic hands, the attention now on him instead.

seonghyeon peeked over your way, catching your cheers come to calm as the ball has left his grip. he shook his head at the disappointment written all over your face, rushing his fingers through his hair aggressively, "what the fuck dude?" he mumbled mainly to himself, but he knew he couldn't just stand there, the game had to continue.

you bit your lip as soon as keonho retracted the ball from seonghyeons hands, your chest heaving a big sigh. they were on the same team, though seonghyeon held a grudge against keonho, being too competitive for the position he holds within the team.

"seonghyeon!" juhoon yelled towards seonghyeon, passing the ball straight towards him as the opposing team tried to get ahold of juhoon's ball. seonghyeon scrammed over his way, jumping mid hair to catch the ball but as soon as it was about to land his hold, he flew to the floor.

the gym went in silence, a bunch of murmurs filled in the silence, as well as your rants; what the hell? you gestured towards the scene to one of your cheer mates, her simply shrugging in response.

keonho had just flew on top of seonghyeon, trying to grab the ball for his own despite the fact juhoon made the throw with purpose towards seonghyeon, leaving seonghyeon on the ground, as keonho got up trying to score for his own but before he could bring the ball towards the hoop a whistle blew – a whistle that meant foul.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" one of the teammates shoved keonho's hissing shoulder, visibly angry. "i thought we all knew not to pass that shit to hyeon." keonho furrowed his eyebrows, rubbing his forearm.

the coach brought keonho back to the seats, while the teammates brought seonghyeon back up, "are you good?" one of them asked worryingly. seonghyeon nodded, "i'm still in, i'm not hurt." he shook his head at the coach gesturing him to sit on the seats as well.

you watched the score board once more, catching a home : 24 to away : 22 — a clear victory coming to the end that could just rush away any second now.

"is he still in?" one of your cheer mates asked. you smiled, "of course he's in, he's seonghyeon." the hope in you remained but the doubt in you barely faltered, still worried about the aftermath of his slight hurt and his bond with keonho.

but after many lip thrills, and your eyes squeezing shut every second, practically praying – a whistle blew amongst many cheers that came along. your eyes flashed wide open, view immediately stuck onto the score board to see that home – seonghyeon had won.

your mouth came agape when you removed your stare from the score board, only to catch a flying seonghyeon running towards you.

many chants came behind him as he pushed his way from his team that tried bringing him into a group cheer, only to run to his only one that he prefers to cheer with instead.

you didn't have time to react properly, as he pushed hisself on you, indulging his head into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you so tight – but you did the same, your arms flew around his neck, standing on your tippy – toes as you placed your chin on his shoulder.

"seonghyeon are you okay?" your tone filled with worry, but he just laughed. "of course i am, keonho has nothing on me." he lifted you a little of the ground, swaying you from left to right ever so gently, "but i did it baby." he smiled in the crook of your neck, his words coming out muffled yet the sound of achievement was heard through his words.

"i know you did hyeon." you replied. "gosh i was so angry at keonho for taking the ball, i already knew he'd fuck me over." he groaned, "and then he decided to purposely hurt me so i can get out but instead he's the one who got fouled." he added on, annoyance building up more and more as he continued to talk. you just smiled, as you placed a hand behind his head, removing your chin off of his shoulder to kiss the side of his head, "okay, enough about keonho."

"don't kiss my hair, its all sticky and sweaty." he let out a breathy laugh, removing his head from the crook of your neck to look at you face - to - face. "are you proud of me?" he raised an eyebrow, obvious intention written behind it. "of course i am?" you titled your head in 'confusion' although you know what he's really asking for, "why wouldn't i be?"

"i dunno." he smiled, his gaze faltering to your lips for a spilt second, before bringing it back up to your creased eyes, as you let out a giggle, "you know you don't have to ask for it right?"

"i clearly have to if you're taking to long.." he mumbled, a slight pout formed onto his lips. you sighed, bringing your face closer to his, lips almost meeting, but not entirely – essentially teasing.

he looked in between your lips and your stare, your stare very obviously looking at his eyes instead of his lips, a grin plastered onto your face. "hello? are you going to kiss me?" he whispered, pout getting heavier. "no i'm not," you whispered back. he shook his head, playfully rolling his eyes as he leaned closer, lips finally connecting. he pecked your lips a few times, giggles ran throughout each touch.

"gosh i love you so much," he muttered, his hand flying to the back of your head, placing a few more pecks aggressively against your lips that ran with deep laughter, as you tried leaning your head back away from his dramatic actions.

you turned your head to the side, his lips landing onto your cheeks and the corner of your mouth instead, "seonghyeon!" you giggle, "you have to go to your locker room." you mumbled through the pressure of his kisses.

his kisses came to a halt, grabbing your chin to meet his eyes, "i don't care about locker room time right now, i rather take you out then waste time with... somebody for the next hour."

"mcdonald's?" you raised an eyebrow, your smile tilting. "babe, i'm not eating dolphins." he rested his forehead against your own, giving one more peck, "proper dinner?" he smirked. "yes in sweaty uniforms, my dream date." you laughed, grabbing onto his cheeks and bringing in another peck.

ness ˎˊ˗ the long waited trope – basketball player seonghyeon and cheerleader reader... who cheered !!! 😅 also if there's any typos, i don't care cause i'm not re-reading ts for the 1000th time.

© yuesning — all rights reserved. DO NOT translate, copy, or transfer my works to other sites. this is my only writing blog.

TAGLIST: @lovhyeon , @j-jinxee , @hiitzstar , @lovelynyah , @nataliasdiary , @meiisamotherbitch , @eomsean , @riyuukii , @samlovesfood0 , @myplanetdidi , @dearlyhyeon , @stayville-citizen , @realseanshady , @lcvehyeon , @j4eyxn , @08rtin , @nathalhonaa , @beatbymarzz , @wonheesyana , @unredact3d , @louis4sho , @adoure , @kieangelic , @sadisticnecrophiliac , @red--roses

[coconhovr]

WEARING HIS JERSEY 𑣲 𝐉𝐔𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─── juhoon plays in the world cup final when he saw you wearing his jersey and his whole confidence boosted

★ bf ! juhoon × fem!reader

word count ── 4.2k

˖᯽ ݁˖ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 coco speaking here! sadly korea didn’t win against mexico BUT THATS OKAY 😔😔😔 maybe in another life korea wins in the final like my fic LMAOAOA i just thought about this because juhoon is a really good soccer/football player HEHEHEHE HOPE YOU ENJOY 𖧧 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The stadium roared with a magnitude that felt almost otherworldly.

The deafening chorus of thousands reverberated through your entire body, vibrating beneath your feet and rattling the metal railing gripped tightly in your hands. Every corner of the arena pulsed with anticipation, emotion, and national pride.

A vast ocean of red and white stretched endlessly before you. Flags billowed dramatically in the evening air. Supporters leaped from their seats. Strangers embraced. Children sat atop their parents’ shoulders, waving banners larger than themselves.

The atmosphere was electric—so charged with excitement that even breathing felt difficult. This wasn’t simply a football match, this was history unfolding before your eyes.

The World Cup Final.

The culmination of years of sacrifice, relentless training sessions, devastating defeats, miraculous victories, and impossible dreams, and somewhere amidst the brilliant floodlights illuminating the pitch stood your boyfriend.

Kim Juhoon, wearing a Number 7 Jersey. Captain of South Korea. The man who carried the hopes of an entire nation upon his shoulders.

From your seat high in the stands, you could still pick him out immediately. There was something unmistakable about him. The quiet confidence in his posture, the sharp determination etched into his features, the captain’s armband wrapped securely around his bicep, the way he stood taller than everyone around him despite being surrounded by world-class athletes.

He looked composed, focused, ready. At least until his gaze wandered toward the crowd, toward you.

The moment his eyes landed on your figure, he visibly froze completely, utterly. For a brief second, the chaos of the stadium seemed to disappear from his perspective, because you were wearing his jersey.

Not merely a national team jersey, not a replica purchased from a merchandise stand. His jersey.

The exact one he had carefully folded and handed to you after practice months ago. The same jersey he’d insisted would look adorable on you. The same jersey he’d repeatedly begged you to wear, and the same jersey you had stubbornly refused every single time.

It had always felt embarrassing. Too obvious, too couple-like, too revealing of your relationship to the millions of people who watched him.

Yet today was different, today  was the biggest day of his career. The most important match he would ever play, and if there was ever a moment to support him without hesitation, it was now.

The oversized fabric draped over your frame, the sleeves extending nearly to your forearms. His surname stretched proudly across your back. His number adorned the front. A silent declaration that made your cheeks warm when ever you looked down.

Yet the reaction it provoked from Juhoon was far more dramatic than you’d anticipated. Even from across the enormous field, you could see the exact moment his brain stopped functioning.

His eyes widened noticeably, his lips parted. The confident captain who had moments earlier looked prepared to conquer the world suddenly resembled a teenager experiencing his first crush.

A delicate blush climbed steadily up his neck, then to his ears, then across his cheeks. You had never seen him turn red that quickly before.

The sight nearly made you laugh, and then it became worse, much worse.

One of his teammates noticed. The player followed Juhoon’s line of sight. His eyes landed on you, specifically on the jersey.

His expression transformed instantly. A grin spread across his face, and he smacked Juhoon’s shoulder hard.

Juhoon stumbled slightly. Another teammate noticed, then another, then another. Within seconds, half the starting lineup seemed aware of the situation.

Several players turned around to locate you in the crowd. The moment they spotted Juhoon’s name displayed proudly across your chest, their reactions became merciless.

One player doubled over laughing. Another wrapped an arm around Juhoon’s shoulders. A third pointed dramatically in your direction while shouting something that made the entire group erupt into laughter.

Juhoon looked absolutely mortified. You could practically see him debating whether to disappear into the grass. Unable to resist, you lifted your hand and offered him a small wave.

The worst possible decision. His expression somehow became even redder. A feat you hadn’t believed was physically achievable.

The captain of South Korea, the man trusted to lead an entire nation. Reduced to complete embarrassment by a single oversized jersey.

Cute, dangerously cute.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened. The overwhelming noise of the stadium faded into the background. The pressure, the cameras, the expectations. Everything seemed to disappear, there was only you, standing in the crowd.

His lips curled upward into the faintest smile. One reserved exclusively for you. Then the referee’s whistle pierced through the atmosphere.

The match had begun, and in the blink of an eye, the shy, flustered boyfriend vanished. What remained was Captain Juhoon.

A man determined to bring home a World Cup, and judging by the fire igniting behind his eyes as he sprinted across the pitch, you suddenly had a feeling that wearing his jersey had given him far more confidence than either of you had expected.

You had watched Juhoon play more times than you could possibly count.

From small youth tournaments where barely a hundred spectators filled the stands, to professional league matches broadcast across the country.

You had witnessed victories, heartbreaking defeats, championship celebrations. Moments where exhaustion nearly brought him to his knees.

You knew the rhythm of his movements better than anyone. The slight tilt of his head before making a pass. The determined set of his jaw whenever he became focused. The calculated precision behind every decision he made on the field.

But this?

This was entirely different. The man currently commanding the pitch barely resembled the boyfriend who spent his evenings curled up beside you on the couch.

Tonight, he looked extraordinary. There was an unmistakable ferocity radiating from him. An almost magnetic confidence that drew everyone’s attention whenever he touched the ball.

It was as though every ounce of pressure, expectation, and responsibility resting upon his shoulders had transformed into pure determination.

He wasn’t simply participating in the match, he was dominating it. Every movement appeared deliberate, every decision seemed flawless.

The ball obeyed him as if attached by an invisible thread. His passes sliced through defensive lines with surgical precision. His footwork was elegant yet devastatingly effective.

Each sprint down the field left defenders scrambling desperately in his wake, even the world’s best players struggled to keep pace with him.

The crowd reacted to his every touch, a collective gasp, a thunderous cheer, an eruption of applause. The stadium seemed to pulse in time with his performance.

And the commentators? They could hardly contain their admiration. His name echoed repeatedly through the speakers overhead, praise followed praise. 

They analyzed his leadership, his composure, his vision, his ability to elevate everyone around him. At some point, it felt less like a World Cup Final and more like a showcase of Captain Juhoon.

He was everywhere, directing teammates with sharp gestures, tracking back to recover possession, launching attacks, creating opportunities seemingly out of thin air. A true captain in every sense of the word. The embodiment of leadership, the heart of the team.

And when South Korea secured their second goal, the stadium nearly collapsed from the force of the celebration.

The ball struck the back of the net. The crowd exploded, a deafening roar surged through the arena. Flags waved wildly, fans leaped from their seats, some screamed, others cried. Complete strangers threw their arms around one another in celebration. 

The noise was indescribable, yet somehow, amidst all that chaos, Juhoon’s attention immediately sought only one thing.

You.

While his teammates rushed toward him in celebration, he turned, almost instinctively. His gaze swept across thousands upon thousands of spectators. Until he found you.

The moment his eyes locked onto yours, something softened in his expression, just for a second. Then a grin spread across his face, completely breathtaking. Before you could process what he was doing—He pointed directly at you. Your heart nearly stopped.

No… Absolutely not.

There were over eighty thousand people in attendance. Millions more watching from around the world. Surely he wasn’t—

The stadium cameras followed his gesture. Your stomach dropped. A collective murmur swept through the audience, then suddenly—Your face appeared on the colossal screen suspended above the field. Larger than life, impossible to miss.

The realization hit you all at once. The jersey, his jersey. His name displayed proudly across your chest. His number, his team, his unmistakable connection to you.

Thousands of people noticed instantly. The reaction was immediate. Entire sections of supporters erupted into cheers. Some pointed excitedly toward the screen, others laughed knowingly. A few fans even began chanting his name louder than before.

Your face burned with mortification. Heat flooded your cheeks so quickly you were convinced the entire stadium could see it. You briefly considered disappearing into your seat forever, or perhaps fleeing the country. Either option seemed reasonable.

Meanwhile, the source of your embarrassment stood proudly in the center of the field, completely unapologetic, completely shameless.

Juhoon looked downright pleased with himself. The grin stretching across his face was insufferably smug, the kind of grin that said he knew exactly what he had done, and as he jogged backward toward his position, still maintaining eye contact with you for one final second, his expression carried a silent message.

One that made your heart flutter despite your embarrassment.

Mine.

The cockiest man alive, and somehow, infuriatingly enough—The most lovable one too.

⸻

South Korea won.

3–2.

World Champions.

For a fraction of a second, the world seemed to fall silent. The referee’s final whistle sliced through the night air, sharp and unmistakable, signaling the conclusion of ninety minutes that would forever be etched into football history.

Everything stopped, as if time itself had hesitated. The players froze, the crowd held its breath, even you found yourself unable to move. Unable to think, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened.

Then reality crashed over the stadium like a tidal wave. Pandemonium erupted, the deafening roar that followed was unlike anything you had ever experienced. It wasn’t merely cheering, it was jubilation, relief, disbelief.

The collective release of decades worth of hopes, dreams, and prayers. The sound was so overwhelming it vibrated through your bones. It swallowed every other noise whole.

Around the pitch, emotions burst forth without restraint. Several players collapsed onto the grass, their legs finally giving out after carrying them through the most important match of their lives.

Others fell to their knees, hands covering tear-streaked faces. Some sprinted aimlessly across the field, screaming at the top of their lungs. A few simply stood motionless, staring at the scoreboard as if they needed visual confirmation that this wasn’t some elaborate dream.

The magnitude of the achievement was almost impossible to comprehend. South Korea… World Champions. The words felt surreal, unbelievable, historic.

Above the stadium, enormous confetti cannons detonated with thunderous force. Thousands upon thousands of crimson and silver fragments exploded into the night sky before drifting downward like shimmering snowfall.

The dazzling pieces caught beneath the floodlights, transforming the air into a glittering spectacle. Streams of color spiraled through the atmosphere. Fireworks illuminated the darkness overhead. Flags waved furiously from every section of the stands. Supporters embraced complete strangers.

Many openly wept, others laughed through their tears. The entire stadium had become a living, breathing celebration, yet amidst all the chaos surrounding you, your attention remained fixed on one person.

Juhoon.

Your vision blurred before you even realized tears had begun slipping down your cheeks. You hastily wiped at them. More appeared, then more.

The overwhelming emotion settled heavily in your chest, because this wasn’t merely a victory. It was the culmination of everything.

Every sacrifice.

Every setback, every impossible challenge he had endured. You remembered the countless mornings he woke before sunrise for training.

The exhausting schedules, the months spent away from home, the injuries that left him frustrated and unable to play, the nights where self-doubt crept into his mind despite his best efforts to hide it, the pressure placed upon him as captain, the expectations of teammates, the scrutiny of the media, the weight of an entire nation’s hopes resting upon his shoulders.

You had witnessed every chapter of the journey. The triumphant moments, the painful ones, the days where exhaustion clung to him so heavily he could barely keep his eyes open, the evenings where he sat beside you quietly, wondering if he was doing enough. If he was good enough, if all of it would eventually be worth it.

And now—You had your answer.

Standing in the center of the pitch, surrounded by flashing cameras and euphoric teammates, was the man who had refused to quit.

The man who had dedicated years of his life to chasing a dream that many deemed impossible. The captain who carried his team through the biggest tournament in the world. The boy who once practiced alone for hours after everyone else had gone home. The athlete who sacrificed comfort, sleep, and certainty for a chance at greatness.

And somehow, despite the confetti cascading around him and tens of thousands of supporters chanting his name, Juhoon’s gaze wandered toward the stands, toward you.

Even from a distance, you saw the exact moment he found you, his expression softened. The triumphant grin on his face faltered for just a second. His eyes glistened beneath the stadium lights.

Suddenly, he no longer looked like a global superstar, or a World Cup-winning captain, or the hero of an entire nation. He simply looked like Juhoon.

Your Juhoon.

Overwhelmed, emotional, happy beyond words. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile so genuine it made your chest ache.

A smile that carried years of perseverance behind it. Years of resilience, years of unwavering determination, and as chants of his name reverberated throughout the stadium, one thought echoed louder than everything else.

He had done it against every obstacle. Against every expectation, against every doubt. Juhoon had reached the summit of the footballing world.

And now, beneath a sky filled with confetti and celebration, he stood exactly where he had always dreamed of being.

A World Cup champion.

The celebration seemed endless after, not that anyone was complaining. After all, moments like these didn’t happen every day.

History had just been written beneath the brilliant glow of stadium floodlights, and everyone wanted a piece of it.

The pitch had transformed into a whirlwind of activity, players moved from one obligation to another without a moment to breathe, broadcast crews swarmed every corner of the field.

Reporters fought for interviews, photographers captured thousands of images from every conceivable angle, television cameras followed the champions relentlessly, documenting each tearful embrace and triumphant smile.

The festivities unfolded in a dazzling blur. There were speeches, award presentations, medal ceremonies, team photographs, commemorative videos projected across enormous screens, corporate sponsors requesting appearances, officials offering congratulations, former players shaking hands, fans chanting from every section of the stadium.

The atmosphere remained euphoric long after the match had ended. At one point, you watched as Juhoon disappeared beneath a crowd of teammates celebrating around him.

A few minutes later, he reappeared holding the World Cup trophy high above his head while tens of thousands erupted into thunderous applause.

Then he vanished again, pulled away by reporters. Then by photographers, then by officials, then by another wave of teammates determined to celebrate all over again.

Every time you caught sight of him, he seemed to be somewhere new. Standing on a stage, posing for cameras, giving an interview, laughing with teammates, accepting congratulations.

The captain of the newly crowned world champions had suddenly become the most sought-after person in the stadium.

You understood. Of course you did, tonight wasn’t about you. It was his night, his team’s night, his country’s night. You figured it would be hours before you’d get a chance to speak to him properly.

Maybe after the press conference, maybe after the trophy presentation. Possibly not until everyone returned to the hotel. The thought made sense, disappointing, perhaps. But realistic.

So you remained in your seat, occasionally watching highlights replay across the giant screens while supporters continued singing throughout the arena.

The oversized jersey draped around your frame still carried his name across the back. A small smile tugged at your lips.

World Champion. 

The title still felt surreal.

Your gaze drifted toward the field once more. Somewhere amidst the sea of cameras and flashing lights was Juhoon. You wondered if he’d even had a moment to process everything.

Whether he’d managed to catch his breath, or reality had fully settled in for him yet.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden vibration of your phone. You glanced down absentmindedly. The screen illuminated your face, and immediately, your heart skipped.

Juhoon ♡

A smile appeared before you’d even opened the message.

Tunnel behind Section C.

A second notification appeared almost instantly.

Now.

You blinked once, then laughed softly to yourself. Of course. The entire world wanted a piece of him tonight, the media, the fans, the photographers. Yet somehow, the first chance he found to escape—He was looking for you. 

Your chest warmed instantly, because no matter how many cameras followed him…

The person he wanted to see first was still you, and judging by the urgency of those messages—Your boyfriend was getting impatient.

⸻

The tunnel behind Section C was astonishingly quiet compared to the spectacle unfolding elsewhere in the stadium.

The deafening celebrations that had consumed the arena moments earlier were now little more than distant echoes reverberating through concrete walls.

Muffled cheers drifted faintly from above. Occasional bursts of applause filtered through the corridors. Somewhere in the distance, supporters were still singing, still celebrating, still reveling in the fact that South Korea had become world champions.

Although down here, hidden beneath the stadium, everything felt strangely intimate, private, like a small sanctuary carved out from the chaos.

The fluorescent lights overhead cast a soft glow across the empty passageway as you followed the directions from Juhoon’s message.

Your footsteps echoed gently against the concrete floor. The oversized jersey shifted against your frame with every step. The realization still felt surreal.

World Champion.

Your boyfriend was a World Champion.

The thought hadn’t fully settled in your mind before a familiar voice suddenly cut through your thoughts. “Baby.”

The sound of it immediately made your heart flutter. You barely had enough time to look up. One moment the corridor was empty.

The next—Juhoon appeared from around the corner, and launched himself at you.

“Juhoon—!” A startled laugh escaped you as his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

The impact nearly sent you stumbling backward. Had he not tightened his grip immediately, you were fairly certain both of you would’ve ended up sprawled across the floor.

Not that he seemed concerned, not when he buried his face directly into the crook of your neck, or when he practically folded himself around you. He held onto you as though he hadn’t seen you in months rather than a few hours.

You felt the warmth radiating from him instantly. His skin was still heated from the match. His damp hair brushed softly against your jaw. The faint scent of grass, sweat, and expensive cologne lingered around him. Even now, long after the final whistle, his breathing remained uneven from adrenaline.

Then, you felt him laugh. The vibration travelled directly through your skin, warm, affectionate. “Hello, beautiful.” The words came out muffled against your neck.

You couldn’t help smiling. “Hello to you too.”

Juhoon only squeezed you tighter, if that was even possible. For several seconds he simply remained there, arms securely around your waist, seemingly unwilling to let go, as though the moment he released you, someone might drag him back toward another interview.

Eventually, he pulled back just enough to look at you, and immediately froze again. His gaze dropped to the jersey, then slowly traveled upward, then back down.

A disbelieving smile spread across his face, “I still can’t believe you wore my jersey.” His voice carried an unmistakable sincerity.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a jersey.”

The reaction you received was immediate. Juhoon’s hands rose to cradle your cheeks firmly.“No.” His eyebrows furrowed. “It is absolutely not just a jersey.”

You laughed. “Juhoon—”

“No, listen.” His dark eyes scanned over you with unwavering attention.

The oversized sleeves nearly covering your hands. The number stretched across your torso. His surname displayed proudly across the fabric. His expression softened with every passing second. “You have no idea what that did to me.”

Heat instantly rushed to your face. You hated how easily he could make you flustered. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Baby.” The corners of his lips twitched upward. “That time, I almost forgot how to breathe.”

You groaned. “Okay it’s not that serious.”

“I’m serious.” His thumbs brushed gently across your cheeks. “When I saw you in the stands wearing my name?” A smile tugged at his lips. “I genuinely thought my heart stopped.”

“That definitely didn’t happen.”

“It did.”

“It didn’t.”

“It absolutely did.”

You laughed despite yourself. The triumphant grin that appeared on his face suggested he considered that a victory, then, without hesitation, he pointed toward the field behind him.

“I scored because of you.”

Your jaw dropped. “Okay you’re just lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You trained for years for this.”

“Wrong.”

“Juhoon.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“You’ve been preparing for this tournament since you were a teenager.”

He shook his head, completely unconvinced. “Nope.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

The smile stretching across his face became increasingly insufferable. “The second I saw you wearing my jersey, I knew I was winning.”

You stared at him speechless. “That’s not how football works.”

“It is…” His hands slid from your cheeks to your waist. Pulling you closer until there was barely any distance separating the two of you. “When you have a motivation 

You snorted.n“Your big jersey was your motivation?”

“My beautiful girlfriend wearing my jersey was my motivation.”

His gaze softened, becoming infinitely more affectionate. He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The cocky smile never fully disappeared, but there was something undeniably tender beneath it.

“I just wanted to make you proud.”

⸻

Juhoon’s arms found their way around your waist once more, as though he simply couldn’t help himself, after spending hours surrounded by reporters, cameras, and countless people demanding his attention, the only place he truly wanted to be was here, with you.

He gently tugged you forward, closer. Until scarcely any distance remained between the two of you.

Despite everything he had endured throughout the evening—the pressure, the expectations, the overwhelming celebrations—his eyes remained fixed entirely on you.

The triumphant energy that had carried him through ninety minutes on the pitch gradually faded. In its place came something softer.

His expression relaxed. The sharp determination that had defined him throughout the match disappeared completely, replaced by an almost unbearable fondness.

For a moment, he simply stared, taking his time, studying every detail. The oversized sleeves draped over your hands. The jersey hanging loosely against your frame. His surname stretched proudly across the fabric.

The sight seemed to render him momentarily speechless, a quiet laugh escaped him.

“God.” His thumb swept gently across your cheek. The gesture was absentminded, instinctive, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“So pretty.”

Heat immediately crept into your face. You rolled your eyes. “Stop.”

His smile only widened, the kind of smile that always meant trouble,  that appeared whenever he discovered something capable of making you flustered. “So pretty.”

“Juhoon.”

“My girl looked beautiful wearing my name.” The words were delivered with such sincerity that your stomach performed an embarrassing somersault.

You hated that reaction, especially because he noticed it immediately. His eyes brightened with amusement. The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.

There it was, that infuriatingly smug expression, self-satisfied. Entirely aware of the effect he had on you, the expression reserved exclusively for moments like this. “Aww.”

You groaned dramatically. “No.”

“Look at you.” His voice dropped lower, becoming teasingly gentle.” “So shy.”

You immediately shook your head. “I’m not shy.”

“Baby.” His eyebrows lifted. “You absolutely are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Stop being stubborn.”

“Just don’t hide yourself beautiful,”

Your hands instantly flew to your cheeks. Juhoon’s laugh echoed through the corridor, entirely too pleased with himself.

“You checked.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“I was proving a point.”

“You proved mine.”

You groaned again, the grin on his face became almost unbearable.mWorld Champion, national hero, and somehow still the most annoying person you’d ever met.

Juhoon leaned forward slightly, reducing the distance between the two of you even further. His forehead came to rest lightly against yours.

The simple gesture immediately quieted the conversation. Everything slowed, the distant celebrations, the lingering excitement, the overwhelming chaos of the evening.

For a brief moment, it felt as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

His smile softened. “You’re so cute.”

You shoved his shoulder weakly. The motion lacked any real conviction, mostly because you were fighting your own smile, and partially because Juhoon didn’t move an inch.

If anything, he looked even more delighted. “My favorite girl.”

“Juhoon….”

“What? I just love showing off my girl.”

You immediately looked away, his  laughter followed almost instantly, entirely captivated.

And judging from the way he continued looking at you, one might have assumed he had just won something far more important than the World Cup.

[coconhovr]

TAGLIST 002 ⤷ @behindyou1305 @chbq2 @fshn-zip @jiyoonly @hyuneskkami @pxronbeat1 @g0thjou @tbsloneely @marywary @lillseann @rickyshensgirlfriend @o5eon @perpuff @emotiandon @loverkiiller @eomlinn @jihoonly @pbananalover @emmaitoshi @koohannie @angelyseo @one-chance-pls @cortismysunshines @saevss @whsipy @angelwings-fly @umi-zooomiz @tw0star @st4rry-l4vender-sk1es @miaik @beatbymarzz @xilosca @twinklingsparkling @azywhwa @its-vante @vals91 @boochanx3 @h14a @ksideffects @dejundesign @daribakugo @cherryluvssss @jenniebyrubies @gorgeouslyus @juhvvns @janjoonty @youngkeukeuholic @ksideffects @6rei-ji

[bunbroke]

pairing: boyfriend!james x femreader

summary: when illness becomes harder to hide and fear convinces you to carry it alone, James refuses to let you suffer in silence.

other notes: chronic illness themes, discussions of declining health, loss of appetite, emotional vulnerability, anxiety, crying, fear of abandonment, heavy angst with a happy ending. (3k) - request!

James had always been observant.

It was one of the innumerable amount of things that you loved about him.

The way he remembered small details nobody else seemed to care about.

The way he noticed when you were cold before you even realized it yourself, already wrapping his hands around yours to rub them together and heat you up.

The way he could be in a room full of people and somehow still notice when you were uncomfortable.

Small things.

James paid attention.

He always had.

Which was why, lately, you had started becoming afraid of him.

Not because he was doing anything wrong.

But because he was noticing.

And you didn’t want him to.

At first, it was easy to hide.

Everyone gets tired.

Everyone has bad days.

Everyone loses their appetite sometimes.

That was what you told yourself.

So when James noticed you skipping breakfast, you laughed it off.

“Coffee is basically breakfast.”

He had stared at you over the rim of his mug.

“That is the worst thing you’ve ever said.”

You laughed.

A real laugh.

And for a moment, you thought you had convinced him.

But James just smiled softly.

He didn’t believe you, not entirely.

Then came bigger things.

Things that were impossible to explain without admitting something was wrong.

Like how you started sitting down halfway through getting ready because standing for too long made your head spin.

Like how you began taking longer showers because you needed the steam and the quiet when your body felt too heavy.

Like how you started sleeping closer to the edge of the bed because you didn’t want James to notice when you woke up in the middle of the night, fighting for air.

You thought you were being subtle.

And you were.

But James noticed every single thing.

The first time he found you on the bathroom floor, he didn’t panic.

That was what scared you most.

James always reacted.

He was expressive, passionate, impossible to hide from.

But that morning?

He opened the bathroom door.

Saw you sitting there.

And went completely still.

“Hey.”

Just one word.

Quiet.

Careful.

Toothbrush stuffed into his mouth, messy hair and a complicated expression that made you feel miserable and scared all at once.

You looked up and immediately smiled.

“I’m okay.”

And there it was again.

That sentence.

The sentence he hated.

James crouched down in front of you.

“How long have you been sitting here?”

You shrugged.

“Not long.”

His eyes moved over your face.

The tiredness.

The way you were trying too hard to look normal.

“Love.”

You looked away.

“I just got dizzy.”

His jaw tightened.

“Dizzy enough that you ended up on the floor?”

You didn’t answer.

And James didn’t push.

That was almost worse.

Because James knew.

He knew something was happening.

But he knew you weren’t ready to tell him.

After that, James changed.

Not dramatically.

Not in a way you could call him out on.

He just became quieter.

He started making your favourite meals more often.

Started texting you during breaks at the studio.

Started checking if you had eaten properly every single day.

jjam ❤: What did you have for lunch? ❤️

you: Haven’t eaten yet...

The dots kept appearing and disappearing repeatedly.

jjam ❤: Ok.

Then another message.

jjam ❤: I’m bringing you food.

You would laugh.

You really don’t have to baby ❤️🤣

jjam ❤: I know But I want to ☺️

And that was always his answer.

“I know.”

Because James never did things because he had to.

He did them because he loved you.

The worst part was that James never made you feel like a burden.

You did that all by yourself.

You saw the concern in his eyes.

You saw the exhaustion when he thought you weren’t looking.

You saw him lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling.

And you could only think that you were doing this to him.

So you tried harder.

You smiled more.

You hid more.

And somehow, that only made it worse.

Dinner was where he finally stopped pretending he didn’t notice.

The apartment was quiet.

Warm.

Normal.

Soft jazz playing somewhere in the living room through the radio.

Deam lights adorning the apartment, giving it that cozy vibe he had always insisted it needed.

You hated that it felt normal.

Because nothing about this felt normal anymore.

James was telling you a story about the studio.

Something about Martin sitting on his guitar by accident or something similar.

You listened, well, pretended to.

You smiled.

You reacted at the right moments.

You were getting good at pretending.

Too good.

“Baby.”

You looked up.

James was staring at your plate.

“What?”

“You haven’t eaten.”

Your heart sank.

“I have.”

His eyes lifted to yours.

“Right.”

Not angry.

Not accusing.

Just certain.

You looked away.

“I’m not that hungry.”

James was quiet. Just a silent sigh escaped him before he stood up and collected his plate.

You watched him walk to the kitchen to clean up.

For a moment, you thought you had escaped.

Then the sound of running water stopped.

And his footsteps came closer.

And somehow his hands ended up resting on your shoulders as he stood right behind you.

Gentle.

Always gentle.

“Talk to me.”

Your throat tightened.

“I’m fine.”

A pause.

Then:

“Please don’t do that.”

You froze.

Slowly, you turned around.

James was looking at you.

And he looked tired.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Like he had been holding something inside for too long.

“I know you’re trying to protect me from something. And I appreciate it.”

Your eyes burned.

“But you’re hurting yourself to do it. So don’t.”

And that was the sentence that broke you.

Not because it was cruel or anything like that.

But because it was true.

Your face crumpled.

“I didn’t want you to be scared.”

James’ expression changed instantly.

“Oh, love.”

A tear slipped down your cheek.

“I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

And James looked like those words physically hurt him.

“Different?”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Do you think I only love you when things are easy?”

You couldn’t answer.

So he continued.

“I love you when you’re laughing.”

His hand brushed your cheek.

“I love you when you’re annoying.”

A tiny smile appeared through your tears.

“I even love you when you’re stubborn.”

Another tear.

“So I will love you when you’re scared.”

His own eyes filled.

“And I will love you even more when you need me.”

A shaky breath.

“Especially then.”

James didn’t have a magical solution.

He couldn’t promise everything would be okay.

He couldn’t erase the fear.

And maybe that was why you believed him.

Because he wasn’t pretending.

Sure, he was scared too.

But he stayed. He always did.

And that somehow made you feel at ease.

That night, when you woke up again, you expected the usual.

The darkness.

The sound of your heavy breathing trying to be muffled.

The feeling of being alone with your thoughts helplessly.

But this time it was different.

James was awake.

And his hand was already reaching for yours.

“You’re awake.”

You whispered.

He simply nodded.

“Yeah.”

“You should sleep.”

“So should you.”

A tiny smile.

“You’re impossible.”

He smiled back.

“Yeah.”

Then his expression softened.

“You won’t get rid of me that easy.”

You laughed quietly.

And James closed his eyes for a second, like that sound alone was enough to keep him going.

Then he kissed you. Soft, gentle. Your breath slowing down somehow.

“You don’t have to make yourself smaller so I can handle loving you.”

Your eyes filled.

“You’re not too much.”

A pause.

“You will never be.”

And for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel weak.

TAGLIST : @coxrtizz @gohittie @jjellyouss @makiology

[inkofcortis]

─── CRUSH ON YOU ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ ( σт5. )

୨ৎ ─── fluff , headcanons , cortis!crushing on u 𓏲 self indulgent , not proofread ꪔ̤̮ 𝓁ibrary ,, 𝓉aglist (open)

𝔀hen cortis has a crush on you . . . (188 💬)

GUMii , welcome ladies n gentlemen i am back w a new headcanon for yall 😝😝 im js clearing my drafts rn

— 𝓶artin

he starts remembering EVERYTHING u say. mention a random snack once and three weeks later he’s like “isn’t that the one u said u liked?” meanwhile u don’t even remember saying it 😭

he’ll also brings u up in conversations WAY more than he realizes. someone says one thing that vaguely relates to u and he’s already like “oh y/n does that too”

twin stand UPPP 😿😿

— 𝓳ames

he’s smooth until u flirt back…then his mind goes blank. the weather n walls start looking reaaaaal interesting then

if another guy makes u laugh he turns into a horse with blinders on. it automatically becomes a comedy competition. he’ll be pulling out jokes out his bum bum until he’s the one making u laugh the hardest

— 𝓳uhoon

he’ll always somehow end up next to u. it’s not noticeable at first but then u realize every group picture, every outing, every night at dinner… HE’LL BE THERE (get the reference haahhhehehehahh im so funny 😹😹)

went to the small gestures city and he was the mayor bro 😞 he’ll always open doors for u, giving u the better seat, handing u things before u even ask. it’s so natural u don’t even notice him doing it

— 𝓼eonghyeon

he sends u EVERYTHING. memes, tiktoks, weird pics he took, screenshots of convos. his camera roll basically becomes community property

if he makes a joke in a room full of ppl, he’s checking for ur reaction first. everyone else laughing is cool yk it’s alright but if UUU laugh? u basically crowned him funniest human alive

— 𝓴eonho

he gets attached BADDD 🤧 u disappear for like 4 hours and he’s already texting “hello?” “ru alive?” “wow ok ignore me i guess”

he loves sharing things with u. new song? sending it to u. funny video? sending it to u. found a cool restaurant? now he’s telling u all abt it. if something reminds him of u, ur hearing abt it immediately

© 𝓲nkofcortis 2026

🏷️ (open) ;; @h14a @coerbnz @deaddcrow @mershyjershy @officialthradera @aadsn00 @mitsubal0ver @vals91 @bellesophiaa @myen2rude @lilbuzi @okilovejuhoon @beaseungiu @eoduuung @heartsy13 @eyekonicsania

[arkeukeu]

Loose —Martin Edwards.ᐟ

(고르티스).ᐟ M.E x fem!reader IN WHICH — Your boyfriend couldn't contain his excitement when he saw you in his pair of baggy jeans for the first time. He is down so bad. ⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ warnings. Kisses, swearing.

1,2k —fluff.

ᢉ𐭩 Dressing up wasn't really your thing. On a usual day, you'd prefer putting on a random hoodie that's lying on the floor somewhere, some sweat pants, throw on a pair of white sneakers, and call it an outfit.

But today is not a usual day, you and your friends will be going to a music festival your university is hosting and has insisted that you dress 'hip-hop-y'. So here you are right now, checking yourself in the mirror.

You put on a little more makeup than you'd usually wear, style your hair, and wear a cropped red tank top that hugs your body, making your curves visible.

You look hot, especially after putting on some accessories to complete the look.

But just like any other girl, the more you look at yourself, the more you feel that something isn't quite right. You feel like you need to change something, and that's when you decide it's the black sweatpants that don't fit the aesthetics.

So you look around your room, as the speaker hums in the background playing 'Lover, you should've come over' by Jeff Buckley. Your boyfriend is sleeping soundly on your bed, snuggling with your giant teddy bear.

You chuckle at the sight— it's funny to see Martin, who's taller than a skyscraper in your mind, cuddling like a toddler with a giant teddy bear, who looks a lot smaller when he holds it.

Martin is different— he took fashion as a full-time job. His wardrobe is filled with a bunch of different items.

You? Your wardrobe is just filled with a lot of different colored hoodies and t-shirts, maybe some dresses here and there, but that's about it.

You carefully open your wardrobe to look for something to fit, but nothing seems to catch your eye.

I really need to buy new clothes...

You just realized how basic you are, and you don't have any other option than whatever things you have in your wardrobe.

You sigh, closing it carefully. You were hopeless, thinking maybe the sweatpants were not too bad. But it looks like heaven is on your side today, because you saw Martin's jorts lying peacefully on the couch as if it's calling your name, asking to be worn.

You beam when you see it, quickly grab it, and head back to the bathroom to put it on. And once you did, the outfit finally feels complete now.

It's slightly bigger, making it look a little baggy on you, hanging loosely on your hip. It's perfect.

You tiptoe back into your room, sitting on the edge of the bed beside your boyfriend's sleeping figure as you tap on his pinkish cheeks.

"Martin, I'll be going now, okay?"

You whisper into his ear, kissing his soft cheeks.

He lets out a little sound, letting you know that he's listening but still wants to sleep a little longer.

You ruffle his hair, then cover his body with a blanket. You make your way to the front door, your boots making soft thumps as you walk on the wooden floor.

────── ✧˚ ༘⋆｡Arc𓂃˖₊⊹ ──────

The festival was crowded— most of the people there looked like they had spent the whole night picking an outfit. You were very thankful for your friend who was literally begging you to dress up, or else, you'd get mistaken for the festival's staff if you wore your usual fit.

It was a fun festival, and most artists you knew came as guests. You and your group went food hunting, took a bunch of selfies with random people, and sang your hearts out.

Until evening greets the festival.

By the end of it, you were exhausted from all the dancing and singing, and your friends were too. You all said goodbye, then parted ways, heading to your own homes.

It was 8 AM by the time you arrived at your apartment, your hair wasn't as styled as before, and your makeup was slightly smudged from the heat.

You opened the front door and were immediately greeted by the smell of fresh pizza. You make your way to the living room, looking for your boyfriend, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch, holding a slice of pizza in his hand.

"You're hom—"

Martin couldn't finish his sentence when he saw what you were wearing, his jaw hanging as his mouth agape. He was flabbergasted at the sight.

"Hey tin-ie."

You casually said, as if you didn't just send his soul above to heaven.

It took a second before you noticed him perceiving you. He was eyeing you up and down thoroughly, especially the jorts hanging loosely on your hips, revealing the soft skin of your waist.

You looked back at him dumbfounded.

"...What?"

"Is that my jorts?"

He questioned while still gawking at you, as if the sight in front of him would fade away if he took his eyes off it.

"Oh, yeah. I didn't know what to wear, then I saw yours just lying on the couch. So I wore it." You said matter-of-factly.

You make your way to him, but just as you were about to sit, Martin held your waist, keeping you standing in front of his sitting figure.

"No, No. Stay like this."

He examined you, the way his jorts somehow looked more ravishing when you wore them, the way your tank top hugged your upper body, making you look more stunning.

Then he looked down your hips again.

Other dudes probably gawked at her... The whole day... without me...

He disliked the idea of other men looking at what's his. He'd imagined you got flirted with way too much with this fit, when in fact nobody even dared to come up to you.

"How many guys came up to you today?" He shamelessly asked that question.

You laughed at that question because nobody came up to you, you were too busy having fun with your friends, maybe a couple of photos with other groups of friends, but nothing else besides that.

"Nobody?" You giggled.

"What... But look at you, damn..."

The only one who's gawking right now is him— he probably gawks more than the other dudes at the festival.

You could only giggle at him. He pulled you closer by your waist, hugging your hips as you ruffled his hair.

You can't help it, he's so cute when he's jealous. He's more physical with you when it happens, and you love nothing more than that.

"C'mere"

He pulled you to sit on his lap, then kissed your whole face once you did, earning ticklish giggles from you.

"You really like this fit that much?"

You cupped his jaw, kissing the corner of his lips, resulting in him holding you tighter in place.

"Is it that obvious?" He teased.

You chuckled as he leaned in, kissing your forehead, then your eyelids, then the curve of your nose, both of your cheeks, your jaws, before finally leaning in to kiss your lips.

He gave your lips a bunch of pecks before kissing you properly.

His soft lips danced with yours in a slow, intimate pace. His hands are still holding your waist, making slow circles on the soft surface of your skin. Your arms embraced his neck, pulling him closer into the kiss before pulling apart, your noses touching.

"Please wear my clothes every day." He whispered.

Since then, he insisted on dressing you up, even when there's no occasion whatsoever. He loves how your scent slowly invaded his clothes, how small and cute you looked in his T-shirt.

Your wardrobe became one with his in no time.

ᢉ𐭩

[young2keu]

𑣲 syn. an afternoon of babysitting, but the baby has strong opinions on who the real baby is. contains. gn!reader x bf!seonghyeon, fluff, sfw, babysitting, teasing/humor. wordcount. 1.4k request

the afternoon had been surprisingly peaceful.

or at least, as peaceful as an afternoon could be when it involved supervising a fourteen-month-old with limitless energy and absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

your cousin had spent most of the day wandering around the apartment on unsteady little legs, bouncing from one interest to the next every few minutes. one moment he was stacking cups. the next he was attempting to climb onto the coffee table. after that, he'd somehow become fascinated by a single wooden spoon and carried it around for nearly twenty minutes like he'd discovered buried treasure.

it was exhausting, mostly because every time you thought he'd finally settled on one thing, he'd find something else to fixate on. admittedly, it was kind of adorable in the way only short bursts of chaos could be.

by the time the doorbell rang, you were sitting cross-legged on the living room floor while your cousin investigated a pile of toys beside you.

the second he heard the sound, his head lifted. so did yours.

"come on," you muttered, pushing yourself up. "let's see who it is."

your cousin immediately abandoned the toys and toddled after you.

when you opened the door, seonghyeon barely got halfway through smiling before he noticed the small child standing beside your leg.

it was almost funny how quick his smile froze.

and then he just stared at the baby for a second like that. mouth slightly open in what you could only guess was the beginning of a greeting, breath caught in his throat and eyes wide in surprise.

then he looked at you.

then back at the baby.

then at you again.

"whose is that?"

you blinked. "hello to you too."

"whose baby is that?"

"that's my cousin."

the relief that crossed his face was so immediate it nearly offended you.

"oh."

your eyes narrowed. "what exactly were you thinking?"

"nothing."

"seonghyeon."

he stepped inside. "for a second, i thought there was something you forgot to tell me about."

behind you, your cousin had gone completely still. the stuffed rabbit he'd been carrying hung loosely from one hand as his attention fixed entirely on seonghyeon.

his eyes followed him all the way across the room.

seonghyeon paused, glancing back toward him.

"...why is he looking at me like that?"

"i don't know."

"it's weird..."

"he's a baby."

"exactly."

you laughed. "are you intimidated by a fourteen-month-old?"

"yes."

"…that's embarrassing."

the answer was immediate. "...he's staring!"

"have you never met a baby before?"

"yeah. i've seen babies..."

his gaze flickered back toward your cousin, who was still staring.

"...i just don't think this one likes me."

if anything, the opposite seemed true.

within the next fifteen minutes, your cousin had apparently decided seonghyeon was the most interesting person he'd ever met.

you noticed it gradually at first.

the way his attention kept drifting toward wherever seonghyeon happened to be sitting. the way he would pause whatever he was doing just to watch him. the way every few minutes he'd wander over, linger nearby, then wander off again.

then the gifts started.

the first one was a plastic stacking cup.

your cousin carried it across the living room with both hands, marched directly up to seonghyeon, and deposited it onto his lap.

without a word, he turned around and left.

seonghyeon looked down.

"...what was that?"

"he gave you something."

"why?"

"probably because he likes you."

"i've only been here ten minutes, why would he like me."

the second offering arrived less than a minute later.

this time it was a toy car.

then a spoon.

then a stuffed rabbit.

then, somehow, a sock.

you weren't even aware there had been a sock lying around.

each item ended up in seonghyeon's lap. every attempt to return them was ignored. your cousin simply kept bringing more.

by the time half an hour had passed, there was a growing collection of random household objects sitting beside him.

seonghyeon looked more and more betrayed at the situation.

"i haven't even done anything."

seonghyeon gestured vaguely toward the growing collection beside him. at some point the toy car had disappeared beneath everything else. the rabbit was wedged awkwardly against the spoon. there was still a sock sitting on top of the pile for reasons nobody could explain.

"seriously," he continued. "i've literally just been sitting here."

"i know."

"so why does he keep doing this?"

you glanced over.

your cousin was currently searching beneath the coffee table, presumably for his next contribution.

"i think you've been adopted."

"i don't want to be."

"that's not your choice anymore."

the funniest part was that despite all his complaints, he was already paying attention to your cousin in the same absentminded way people did when they cared more than they realized.

every time your cousin stumbled, seonghyeon's head lifted automatically.

every time he wandered into another room, his eyes followed.

every time he got too close to something sharp or fragile, his posture shifted before he even seemed aware he was moving.

he never commented on it. probably because he didn't notice himself doing it.

you noticed, though.

which was exactly why, twenty minutes later, you found yourself leaning back against the couch with a grin.

"aw."

seonghyeon looked over at you warily. "...what."

"nothing."

"that wasn't a ‘nothing’ face."

your smile widened. "someone's attached."

"i'm not attached!"

"really?"

"…yes."

your cousin chose that exact moment to abandon his toys and toddle directly toward seonghyeon. without hesitation, he planted both hands on seonghyeon's knee and pulled himself upright.

then he raised both arms expectantly.

the message was obvious.

pick me up.

for a moment, neither of them moved— seonghyeon looking down while your cousin stared right back, unblinking.

the baby continued waiting with impressive confidence, pouting and swaying slightly in the beginnings of what seemed to be the start of a small tantrum.

eventually though; before the child could actually start his tantrum, and with the resignation of a man accepting his fate, seonghyeon leaned down and picked the baby up.

your cousin settled almost immediately once he was in seonghyeon's arms. one tiny hand curled into the front of his hoodie while the other rested against his chest. suddenly looking far too comfortable for someone who'd spent the last twenty minutes following him around.

kind of like this had been the goal the entire time.

you could already feel your smile growing.

"there he goes."

seonghyeon didn't even look at you. "don't."

"look at him."

"yn, do not—"

"baby got what he wanted."

his eyes narrowed at the overly sweet, teasing lilt in your voice.

but unfortunately for him, you were enjoying this far too much.

reaching down, you picked up the stuffed rabbit from the pile beside him.

"does baby want his toy?"

seonghyeon's eyes narrowed right away. "stop."

"does baby want bunny?" you held it out in front of him, the faint crease forming between his brows making it harder not to laugh.

"i'm serious."

"aw," you gave the rabbit a little wiggle. "baby likes bunny?"

seonghyeon dropped his head back against the couch cushion. "i hate you."

your cousin seemed fascinated by the conversation despite understanding absolutely none of it.

his gaze bounced between both of you as you spoke.

every time you laughed, he laughed too.

every time seonghyeon sighed, his attention drifted back toward him.

eventually, after several seconds of careful observation, he appeared to reach some sort of conclusion.

then, with complete confidence, he reached up and patted seonghyeon's head twice in quick succession. just a couple of gentle little taps like he was checking a box.

the room fell silent for a second— nobody entirely sure how to react. your cousin looked pleased with himself, while seonghyeon just looked genuinely speechless.

which, unfortunately, only made the situation funnier.

and as your cousin did it, you reached over and copied him.

pat. right on top of seonghyeon's hair.

his head snapped toward you, a faint scowl on his face.

"don't start."

another pat. "good job."

"stop."

"such a good baby."

by now, seonghyeon had developed the look of someone realizing a joke was about to follow him for the rest of his life. and clearly, you weren't planning on helping.

"does baby want a snack?"

seonghyeon exhaled through his nose. "i'm leaving."

"does baby need his nap?"

he turned toward you, exasperation written all over his face.

"i'm serious."

before seonghyeon could react, your cousin copied you.

apparently having decided this was simply how people interacted with him now, he reached up and patted seonghyeon's hair again.

the tiny hand landed with all the confidence of someone who believed he was being extremely helpful.

for a second, nobody moved.

then your cousin giggled.

you completely lost it.

and judging by the way seonghyeon dropped his face into one hand while the baby happily patted his hair again, he already knew this wasn’t something he’d live down anytime soon.

©young2keu, 2026

𑣲⋆ perm tags, my lovies @hyeonverse @kienhawon @mitsubal0ver @keonpill @permacoils @seombaby @fatalfairie @jjuhooners @lightafl4me @luvpadron @hye-rchivee @yuesning @enha4cortis @en7h @koohannie @cortismysunshines @heymaaaartin @myueki @mariyariririri @kittsnewera @mwaeom @coerbiased @cvntycapricornxx @whsipy @taelvvrzz @hyuneskkami @2xred @ceuxnoirst @wonllitz @inadazeee @mkissed @letterstohyeon @meeoowchi

[young2keu]

𑣲 syn. an afternoon of babysitting, but the baby has strong opinions on who the real baby is. contains. gn!reader x bf!seonghyeon, fluff, sfw, babysitting, teasing/humor. wordcount. 1.4k request

the afternoon had been surprisingly peaceful.

or at least, as peaceful as an afternoon could be when it involved supervising a fourteen-month-old with limitless energy and absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

your cousin had spent most of the day wandering around the apartment on unsteady little legs, bouncing from one interest to the next every few minutes. one moment he was stacking cups. the next he was attempting to climb onto the coffee table. after that, he'd somehow become fascinated by a single wooden spoon and carried it around for nearly twenty minutes like he'd discovered buried treasure.

it was exhausting, mostly because every time you thought he'd finally settled on one thing, he'd find something else to fixate on. admittedly, it was kind of adorable in the way only short bursts of chaos could be.

by the time the doorbell rang, you were sitting cross-legged on the living room floor while your cousin investigated a pile of toys beside you.

the second he heard the sound, his head lifted. so did yours.

"come on," you muttered, pushing yourself up. "let's see who it is."

your cousin immediately abandoned the toys and toddled after you.

when you opened the door, seonghyeon barely got halfway through smiling before he noticed the small child standing beside your leg.

it was almost funny how quick his smile froze.

and then he just stared at the baby for a second like that. mouth slightly open in what you could only guess was the beginning of a greeting, breath caught in his throat and eyes wide in surprise.

then he looked at you.

then back at the baby.

then at you again.

"whose is that?"

you blinked. "hello to you too."

"whose baby is that?"

"that's my cousin."

the relief that crossed his face was so immediate it nearly offended you.

"oh."

your eyes narrowed. "what exactly were you thinking?"

"nothing."

"seonghyeon."

he stepped inside. "for a second, i thought there was something you forgot to tell me about."

behind you, your cousin had gone completely still. the stuffed rabbit he'd been carrying hung loosely from one hand as his attention fixed entirely on seonghyeon.

his eyes followed him all the way across the room.

seonghyeon paused, glancing back toward him.

"...why is he looking at me like that?"

"i don't know."

"it's weird..."

"he's a baby."

"exactly."

you laughed. "are you intimidated by a fourteen-month-old?"

"yes."

"…that's embarrassing."

the answer was immediate. "...he's staring!"

"have you never met a baby before?"

"yeah. i've seen babies..."

his gaze flickered back toward your cousin, who was still staring.

"...i just don't think this one likes me."

if anything, the opposite seemed true.

within the next fifteen minutes, your cousin had apparently decided seonghyeon was the most interesting person he'd ever met.

you noticed it gradually at first.

the way his attention kept drifting toward wherever seonghyeon happened to be sitting. the way he would pause whatever he was doing just to watch him. the way every few minutes he'd wander over, linger nearby, then wander off again.

then the gifts started.

the first one was a plastic stacking cup.

your cousin carried it across the living room with both hands, marched directly up to seonghyeon, and deposited it onto his lap.

without a word, he turned around and left.

seonghyeon looked down.

"...what was that?"

"he gave you something."

"why?"

"probably because he likes you."

"i've only been here ten minutes, why would he like me."

the second offering arrived less than a minute later.

this time it was a toy car.

then a spoon.

then a stuffed rabbit.

then, somehow, a sock.

you weren't even aware there had been a sock lying around.

each item ended up in seonghyeon's lap. every attempt to return them was ignored. your cousin simply kept bringing more.

by the time half an hour had passed, there was a growing collection of random household objects sitting beside him.

seonghyeon looked more and more betrayed at the situation.

"i haven't even done anything."

seonghyeon gestured vaguely toward the growing collection beside him. at some point the toy car had disappeared beneath everything else. the rabbit was wedged awkwardly against the spoon. there was still a sock sitting on top of the pile for reasons nobody could explain.

"seriously," he continued. "i've literally just been sitting here."

"i know."

"so why does he keep doing this?"

you glanced over.

your cousin was currently searching beneath the coffee table, presumably for his next contribution.

"i think you've been adopted."

"i don't want to be."

"that's not your choice anymore."

the funniest part was that despite all his complaints, he was already paying attention to your cousin in the same absentminded way people did when they cared more than they realized.

every time your cousin stumbled, seonghyeon's head lifted automatically.

every time he wandered into another room, his eyes followed.

every time he got too close to something sharp or fragile, his posture shifted before he even seemed aware he was moving.

he never commented on it. probably because he didn't notice himself doing it.

you noticed, though.

which was exactly why, twenty minutes later, you found yourself leaning back against the couch with a grin.

"aw."

seonghyeon looked over at you warily. "...what."

"nothing."

"that wasn't a ‘nothing’ face."

your smile widened. "someone's attached."

"i'm not attached!"

"really?"

"…yes."

your cousin chose that exact moment to abandon his toys and toddle directly toward seonghyeon. without hesitation, he planted both hands on seonghyeon's knee and pulled himself upright.

then he raised both arms expectantly.

the message was obvious.

pick me up.

for a moment, neither of them moved— seonghyeon looking down while your cousin stared right back, unblinking.

the baby continued waiting with impressive confidence, pouting and swaying slightly in the beginnings of what seemed to be the start of a small tantrum.

eventually though; before the child could actually start his tantrum, and with the resignation of a man accepting his fate, seonghyeon leaned down and picked the baby up.

your cousin settled almost immediately once he was in seonghyeon's arms. one tiny hand curled into the front of his hoodie while the other rested against his chest. suddenly looking far too comfortable for someone who'd spent the last twenty minutes following him around.

kind of like this had been the goal the entire time.

you could already feel your smile growing.

"there he goes."

seonghyeon didn't even look at you. "don't."

"look at him."

"yn, do not—"

"baby got what he wanted."

his eyes narrowed at the overly sweet, teasing lilt in your voice.

but unfortunately for him, you were enjoying this far too much.

reaching down, you picked up the stuffed rabbit from the pile beside him.

"does baby want his toy?"

seonghyeon's eyes narrowed right away. "stop."

"does baby want bunny?" you held it out in front of him, the faint crease forming between his brows making it harder not to laugh.

"i'm serious."

"aw," you gave the rabbit a little wiggle. "baby likes bunny?"

seonghyeon dropped his head back against the couch cushion. "i hate you."

your cousin seemed fascinated by the conversation despite understanding absolutely none of it.

his gaze bounced between both of you as you spoke.

every time you laughed, he laughed too.

every time seonghyeon sighed, his attention drifted back toward him.

eventually, after several seconds of careful observation, he appeared to reach some sort of conclusion.

then, with complete confidence, he reached up and patted seonghyeon's head twice in quick succession. just a couple of gentle little taps like he was checking a box.

the room fell silent for a second— nobody entirely sure how to react. your cousin looked pleased with himself, while seonghyeon just looked genuinely speechless.

which, unfortunately, only made the situation funnier.

and as your cousin did it, you reached over and copied him.

pat. right on top of seonghyeon's hair.

his head snapped toward you, a faint scowl on his face.

"don't start."

another pat. "good job."

"stop."

"such a good baby."

by now, seonghyeon had developed the look of someone realizing a joke was about to follow him for the rest of his life. and clearly, you weren't planning on helping.

"does baby want a snack?"

seonghyeon exhaled through his nose. "i'm leaving."

"does baby need his nap?"

he turned toward you, exasperation written all over his face.

"i'm serious."

before seonghyeon could react, your cousin copied you.

apparently having decided this was simply how people interacted with him now, he reached up and patted seonghyeon's hair again.

the tiny hand landed with all the confidence of someone who believed he was being extremely helpful.

for a second, nobody moved.

then your cousin giggled.

you completely lost it.

and judging by the way seonghyeon dropped his face into one hand while the baby happily patted his hair again, he already knew this wasn’t something he’d live down anytime soon.

©young2keu, 2026

𑣲⋆ perm tags, my lovies @hyeonverse @kienhawon @mitsubal0ver @keonpill @permacoils @seombaby @fatalfairie @jjuhooners @lightafl4me @luvpadron @hye-rchivee @yuesning @enha4cortis @en7h @koohannie @cortismysunshines @heymaaaartin @myueki @mariyariririri @kittsnewera @mwaeom @coerbiased @cvntycapricornxx @whsipy @taelvvrzz @hyuneskkami @2xred @ceuxnoirst @wonllitz @inadazeee @mkissed @letterstohyeon @meeoowchi

[teacuplps]

Hey guys Crazzzyy idea🔥what if.. we use the anonymous feature on people’s inboxes on tumblr to spread… (ONLY) love💞 and kindness😏💐🦄🦄 who’s with me 😳😳😳😳🤫🤫🤫🤫I nominate everybody to this secret challenge…. Go… ✌️🫂

[mytwinsung]

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‧₊˚ ⛲️ BLUE LIPS

we’ve been in here way too long, i’ve been feelin’ way too cold. can you stay a lil’ bit more? out of the pool, i know you’ll be gone. so can you stay a lil’ bit more, with me, with me, with me..?

james chao x reader &&. pre-relationship. fluff. based on the blue lips music video. implied fem reader. all content is purely fictional !

you’ve seen james up close before, but there’s something about the way the light clings to his dark eyelashes in the late evening that makes your heart flutter in your chest. 

you’re both sitting on the couch, knees touching where your legs are tucked underneath yourselves, trying to preserve whatever warmth you can. it’s spring, so it’s been warming up quite a bit, but there’s still that evening chill that won’t shake just yet. 

the water definitely didn’t help, but it had been well worth it. it was an overcast day, but what was the point in coming to martin’s and not going swimming? weather be damned. 

you and james had been the first ones out of the pool once the sun started to set. he was already sitting on the couch drying off from his own shower when you’d come downstairs after yours. it was like gravity, coming to curl up next to him as some sitcom neither of you were watching played idly on the tv. 

you can still hear seonghyeon and keonho splashing around outside, and the water running both up and downstairs where martin and juhoon were each showering respectively. it’s just the two of you here in the living room, the sun setting outside and your damp hair dripping onto the couch. 

james gently knocks your knee with his knuckles to get your attention. “you had fun today?”

you smile softly. “yeah.”

his dimples show when his grin widens. he exhales a soft, satisfied puff of air from his nose. “good.”

his sweatpants are soft on your toes where you’ve tucked your legs against him, leaning closer. you’re warmer this way, inside and out, as his arm drapes across the sofa behind you and lets you come in closer. your hair is probably dampening his shirt where your head is leaned against his shoulder, but james doesn’t say a word. 

he smells like eucalyptus shampoo and lingering chlorine. his body is warm where it’s pressed against yours. you’re hungry enough that you could probably go forage for leftover pizza in the kitchen, but you can’t make yourself get up just yet. 

it’s not rare for you to be this close to james. the line between friends and something…more had always blurred between you. but right now, neither of you say anything. neither of you move. right now, it’s enough to just stay and let the soft, comfortable silence speak for itself.  

blue lips speaks so special to me <3 enjoy fellow james lovers!!

© mytwinsung ♥︎ do not copy, translate, repost, feed to ai, etc. — comments + reblogs always appreciated!

[akarireadss22]

this is so cute and well-written!! i loveee