summary: martin ends things with you abruptly via a cold text, only to see him the same night with your ex-bestfriend, he spends the next months, desperately trying to get back into your life, and you have to navigate heartbreak, pride and unfortunate lingering feelings.
social media au, slight crack, martin is lowkeyyy a bad person LOL, fluff, angst, , includes swearing, use of y/n, huuuge warning situationship from hell !!
pairings : situationship!martin x reader
previous part / next part
an: i’m still trying out different styles and formats !! so things might change around from light/dark mode, the editing will definitely get better etc !! just texting the waters. luv yaa ~
summary: martin ends things with you abruptly via a cold text, only to see him the same night with your ex-bestfriend, he spends the next months, desperately trying to get back into your life, and you have to navigate heartbreak, pride and unfortunate lingering feelings.
media au, slight crack, martin is lowkeyyy a bad person LOL, fluff, angst, includes swearing, use of y/n, huuuge warning situationship from hell !!
pairings : situationship!martin x reader
part one / next part
martin was never your boyfriend.
but he acted like one when it "mattered" or at least when he thought it did.
moral of the story was he wasn’t supposed to matter the way he did.
it started easy with late-night calls that lasted past midnight, inside jokes no one else knew, his name lighting up your phone more than it should’ve. he never called it anything, and neither did you. no matter how much you wish you could. both of you just decided it was easier that way. you just were...comfortable. familiar. a little too close to be nothing, but never labelled enough to be safe.
he’d show up when he felt like it. disappear when things got inconvenient. and somehow, you always let him back in.
everyone around you knew.
everyone except you..?....apparently ?
your friends had warned you over and over with claims of
"he’s not worth it."
"he’s going to hurt you, trust me."
"you deserve better."
you didn’t listen. or maybe you did, and you just hoped they were wrong.
there were good days as much as there were bad ones. the two of you would be good for days until one of you decided to pick an argument over something stupid and go ghost. the worst part was that you liked the chase more than you'd admit.
it was a friday night, which meant seonghyeon was having one of his weekly house parties. it sort of became a ritual, his parents were usually gone for the weekend so he decided to make the best of it and by this point he was able to rally up most of the grade to attend.
usually, you'd go with martin, somewhat try to enjoy the obnoxious chaos of the boys and attendees, but this week, you weren't really feeling it, mainly due to fact of being exhausted by the school week and the intense studying with finals coming up.
i mean, you could miss one party, right? whats the worst that could happen?
wrong.
you were curled up in bed after a long, everything shower, your hair still slightly damp, wrapped in a hoodie way too big for you. you’d just finished cramming for your stupid exam, biology and human anatomy, because of course your professor decided to ruin your life right before finals week and your brain felt like it was about to short-circuit.
so you did what you always did.
you opened your computer.
euphoria was on. new season. something loud and dramatic enough to shut your brain off for a bit.
you were halfway through a scene, barely paying attention, when your phone lit up beside you.
it was 1:35am when the text came in with no warning.
what the fuck?
no “hey.” no explanation, no warning, no apology. just that.
you stare at the screen, rereading it over and over, hoping somehow it would make sense.
your fingers hover over the keyboard.
type. delete. type again.
nothing you could send would matter anyway.
the sat on your bed in your lowly dimmed room re-reading the same text over and over.
your friends’ voices echo in your head again: i told you… you deserve better than him.
you think back to all the little things now, replaying them in embarrassing detail.
the way he'd pull you into his side when other guys got too friendly at parties, only to act detached the next morning.
the late night “come outside” texts whenever he needed comfort but never wanted to admit it.
the way he’d look at you sometimes, soft enough to make you forget every shitty thing he’d ever done.
you let yourself believe those moments meant something.
god, maybe yunjin was right. maybe everyone was.
.
the next morning you wake up to sunlight hitting your face, soft and blinding. your phone is buzzing on the nightstand. your head pounds and your chest feels tight, like you can’t quite breathe. groggy, you reach for it, and your stomach flips when you see all the notifications yunjin's first, a few missed calls, a string of texts.
you can’t help it. your eyes sting. part of you feels ridiculous for even caring this much about a guy who clearly cared less about you. a guy who wasn’t even your boyfriend, yet somehow had this hold on you. your chest aches with a mix of stupid longing and raw anger.
your stomach drops instantly.
which, naturally, means that’s the first thing you do.
you started with instagram first
the app opens slowly, painfully slow, almost like it’s trying to spare your feelings.
it doesn’t.
seonghyeon posted twenty-three stories from last night’s party.
which i guess wasnt totally out of the ordinary.
you tap through them mindlessly at first, blurry lights, people screaming lyrics, half-empty bottles littering counters — until your thumb freezes mid-screen.
martin.
your breath catches.
he’s sitting on the couch, arm slung lazily around someone beside him.
someone familiar.
too familiar.
your ex-best friend wonhee.
she’s tucked against his side like she belongs there, smiling wide while he looks down at her with an expression you’d never been able to keep for yourself.
the timestamp says posted 3 hours ago.
your chest caves in so fast it almost feels physical.
what the actual hell.
yuck.
it wasn’t like you and wonhee ever really talked about falling out.
you were best friends once, proper best friends. the kind that made everything feel automatic: shared lunches, matching playlists, inside jokes that felt like they’d last forever, and the assumption that nothing could really come between you.
and then martin happened.
at first, wonhee didn’t like him. she made that obvious. every time his name came up, there was that look on her face like she’d already decided who he was, and who you were becoming because of him.
“you’ve been acting different lately,” she said once, watching you check your phone again instead of listening.
you brushed it off. told her she was overthinking it.
but she didn’t let it go.
her concern started sounding more like criticism over time. little comments that made you feel stupid for even trying to explain it. like she was watching you from a step above, waiting for you to catch up.
eventually, you stopped talking about martin around her at all.
not because she was wrong, but because nothing you said ever felt good enough to her anyway.
the breaking point wasn’t dramatic.
just another hangout you didn’t go to. you didn’t even think it mattered that much at the time.
later, someone mentioned wonhee had said, “she’s honestly embarrassing for him at this point.”
the next time you saw her, there was no warmth left in it. just that same look, like she was already done with you.
“you always pick him,” she said with an almost disgusted look on her face.
you tried to respond. to explain. to make her understand it wasn’t like that.
but she’d already decided it was.
and after that… things never went back to what they were.
just silence, distance, and a friendship that ended somewhere between judgment and pride.
suddenly, the text from last night makes perfect sense.
"you've got to be fucking kidding me," you muttered under your breath, dropping your phone on your chest out of pure embarrassment.
i get so shocked whenever blogs that i love/keep up with follow me back. like wdym we’re mutuals now 🤗 and why am i blushing like a weirdo loser. you guys are all so cool.
ps. we just hit five hundred thank you guys so so much !!!!!!! i’m crying i luv all of you so so much . i will be updating soon. 😤😤
sypnosis: jay has an important meeting, clients flying in, schedules packed, the kind of day only a cel could have. but when you wake up feeling terrible, everything else fades. he cancels the meeting without a second thought, staying home to care for you. and in those quiet, stolen moments, you realize just how much he’s willing to put aside for you and how much you mean to him.
pairings: buisness man ceo jay x reader
genres: non-idol au, romance, domestic fluff, married life, slow burn, protective jay
it’s barely 6:03 a.m. when jay’s alarm vibrates against the nightstand.
he’s already half-awake, reaching to silence it before it can ring, slipping out of bed with quiet care. his arms are wrapped around you, your warm body tucked against his chest, breaths still slow and sleepy. he stays still for a moment, listening—then carefully loosens his hold, inch by inch, making sure the blanket doesn’t shift, that you don’t stir.
he finishes putting on his tie and pulling on his watch when he hears it.
a small, broken sound from behind him. congested. uncomfortable. wrong.
jay freezes and looks back immediately.
you’re shifting under the blankets, breathing through your mouth, brows pinched like even existing hurts. he’s at your side in seconds, kneeling, hand smoothing over your hair.
“hey… baby?” his voice is low, careful. he presses the back of his hand to your forehead and his expression changes immediately. “you okay…?” he smooths “you’re really warm.” he says pressing the back of his hand to your forehead.
you blink at him nodding you head , eyes watery and unfocused. “m’fine,” you whisper, voice wrecked. “you don’t look fine” he frowned slightly with a raised eyebrow”
“seriously jay i’m fine” you say voice hoarse followed by an immediate sneeze, contradicting your previous words.
he exhales slowly, thumb brushing your cheek. “you sound awful.”
jay’s expression softens immediately. he tsks and shakes his head just a little, more worried than anything, thumb brushing gently along your cheek. “you should’ve worn your jacket last night,” he murmurs, voice low and careful. “it got colder than you thought.”
you sniffle, barely opening your eyes. “didn’t think it mattered.”
"i know, baby” he says softly. “you never do.” there’s no reproach in it—just concern, like he wishes he could rewind the night and fix it for you.
“you’re going to be late…” you remind looking over at the clock “i just need sleep,” you insist, trying to pull the blanket higher with whatever strenght the sickness left you. “go to work.” you shoo'd him with your limp hand.
jay stands, grabs his phone, already typing. no hesitation. no debate.
“i’m staying,” he says.
you groaned slightly knowing how stubborn jay is “you have that meeting today.”
“i'll just reschedule it.” he shrugs like its nothing setting the phone down and sits on the edge of the bed, firm but gentle as he tucks the blanket back around you. “you’re burning up, you can barely talk, and you think I’m leaving you alone like this?”
“jay—no, you can’t—” you say half atempting to sit up
“of course i can, love” he says calmly, voice low. “you need me more than they do.” he explains as if it makes perfect sense.
“they flew people in—”
“mhm..and i'll make sure they fly them in again,” he murmurs, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. then, softly, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “it’s just a meeting babe... you’re my priority. you know this”
you blink at him, exhausted, but something about the way he says it makes your chest ache.
you stared at him for a couple seconds unsure
"mhk,, just don’t want to be the reason you miss something important.” you eventually cave knowing the last thing you'd want is to be on your death bed without jay by your side anyway.
he stills.
then he looks at you fully—really looks at you and his expression softens in a way that always makes your chest ache.
“you’re not a reason,” he says quietly. “you’re my wife.” his words make you smile like an idiot.
“you’re too good to me,” you mumble. "even tho you're so stubborn.." you mumble earning a chuckle from him.
you can’t help a tiny laugh, weak and airy. “stubborn as hell.” you add
“yeah,” he grins, brushing your hair back again, “and you love me for it.” he says, ruffling your hair.
jay moves quietly around the room, opening the curtains just enough for soft morning light to spill in, turning on the humidifier, boiling water for tea. when he comes back, he helps you sit up, careful and steady.
“small sips my love,” he murmurs.
you lean into him without thinking, head resting against his chest. he stays still, not moving, not saying anything—just holding you like there’s nowhere else he needs to be.
because there isn’t.
“sleep,” he whispers after a while, pressing another soft kiss to the side of your head, near your temple. “i’ve got you.”
you lift your head slightly, sniffle, and whisper, “just… lying down with you… makes me feel better.”
jay smiles, settling down beside you and curling you against him. one arm around your shoulders, the other patting your hair and gently rubbing your back. you can feel him breathe slow and steady, a quiet rhythm that somehow makes your fevered head feel calmer.
“thank you jay..” you mumble after a while, voice barely above a whisper. “for… staying for me.”
“always,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek against your hair. “always, baby.”
and there, cocooned together in the quiet morning light, you drift toward sleep—safe, cared for, and completely wrapped up in each other.
[syn] :: don't send a rapper a voice message unless you wanna be an intro ! ft. your texts,,
─────
your usual texts with martin were silly and heart warming, always reminding him to take breaks, talking about how much you miss eachother. it was typical young love stuff, except, he was a famous idol — one under HYBE at that. it was tough to keep your relationship a total secret, not even being able to tell your closest friends or family. they'd ask who? you're not allowed to say, the risk of the word spreading was too high. so you didn't say a word, pretending you had no desire for a relationship.
barely being able to see martin, his tours and schedules taking up all his waking hours — it was painful to say the least. even if you knew exactly what you were getting into, even if you completely understood this was how it has to be; it didn't stop it from hurting. your heart ached every night, just wishing on every star in the sky; to have the chance to see him more.
you accepted it though, no matter how hard it was — you fought through it. being so supportive, you couldn't be happier for him; achieving his dreams, becoming one of the biggest names in kpop, you loved seeing him thrive.
it was worth the moments you finally got to see him. whether that be surprising him backstage, or showing up at the dorms — anything with him was perfect. being his muse was an honour, unable to imagine anything more endearing, it filled you with such love.
that ended atleast four months ago.
HYBE getting greedy, fans getting restless — it was becoming much harder to deal with. you promised eachother, no matter how difficult, you'd always work through it — but if that was the case, why did your texts start looking like this?
soon enough, it ended. you're not sure why, but you assumed it was just the circumstances. he was climbing the ladder fast and no one could stop him. its not that he stopped loving you, he just loved producing a little more. feeling that's where his priorities lay, he broke it off. it was painful, and hard — as all break ups are, but you respected his wishes. still feeling a little disoriented, the weeks slowly turning into months, the blur over your eyes never faltering. you felt you lost your spark while he gained his. he didn't mean you any harm, but of course, that didn't stop it from hurting.
months passed, nothing changed. a small part of you hoping to hear directly from him again, you never blocked his number. as much as you hated seeing him all over the internet, you still supported him. keeping up with his latest releases, really just curious about where he's taking his career. probably not helping your healing process, but it was all you had left of him really. no one knowing you ever dated, no one would even believe you if you tried. listening to his music as a keep-sake, wishfully thinking at best.
you heard talk about a new track they were working on, specifically on a live stream. it was hard to avoid news about them, so you let it plague your feed. hearing snippets of the song here and there — he's really gotten good at producing. not listening to the full song on purpose; you didn't need to hear it, feeling it would only make you more attached.
yet, something peaked your interest. there were countless replies, countless threads, millions of fans so desperate to find out; who's voice was that? at first you were confused, do people not know what a vocal sample is? it might’ve even just been martins voice with a tonne of FX over it, nothing special. people were hooked on finding out who's voice this was, your finger hovering over the short intro clip on twitter — clicking it without a second thought.
the track played for a few seconds, setting a tone before the famous voice everyone was talking about came in; ambient and filled with reverb.
'mars you know im outside, let me in baby'
your heart fucking sank.
it was your voice.
he sampled your fucking voice, months after breaking up with you. he had some insane nerve.
it was a voice note you'd sent him back when you were together, he was teasing you by not letting you into the dorms — so you told him to stop playing and let you in.
you assumed he used it because you called him mars — his producer tag, and shockingly, it sounded pretty good. he could get away with saying it was a sample or maybe even a voice actor he hired for it. the only people who knew were him and you, and you didn't feel too good about it. he really had the nerve to use your voice in a fucking track? the girl he left to pursue music, it felt like he was mocking you, using you. even if you knew he'd never do that, you felt such a sour taste in your mouth. he knew better than that, he knew so much better than that. still, its been months — did he really go back to old voice notes in search of an intro? and now you're voice is all over twitter because of it.
[AN] :: hey so lets ignore the shit quality of the last two screenshots,, dk why they did that tbh. anywaysss hope y'all enjoyed this lil martin angst (?) fic,, im def gonna write more for him cuz i luh him so muh <3
