i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u i missed u
Hiii teehee^>^ i was wondering if you could write something about reader and ni-ki cuddling and then getting caught by the memberss…🥹
──────✿𝓲 𝗇𝗂𝗄𝗂 ×⠀𝗋𝖾𝖺 ◜ᯅ◝ 𝖼𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 ❤︎𝟑𝟒𝟑
✉️ this is sooo cute i love ur brain
niki is such a softie when it comes to you, a side his members barely ever see. if they ever caught it, they would tease the tf out of him, no mercy.
it was a late night at the dorms, door shut tight for once. you and niki were cuddled up in bed watching a movie, wrapped in each other’s arms. he was drawing lazy circles on your hip, head resting against yours, completely relaxed and melting into you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀( click⠀ ˊ ᯅ ˋ ⠀more )
these quiet moments were rare with his insane schedule, so you both cherished them like crazy—just you and him, warm and cozy… until you weren’t.
the door suddenly swung open and jake stood there, mid-sentence. “hey niki have you seen my—” he paused, eyes going wide at the sight of you two tangled together.
niki’s eyes shot open. “bro get outttt,” he whined, quickly grabbing a pillow and launching it at jake.
jake dodged it, laughing under his breath. “wait… so you actually do show affection? that’s crazy.”
sunoo was walking down the hall and heard the commotion, so he peeked in too. the second he saw niki all cuddly, he broke into a big smile and started giggling. he tapped jake’s shoulder, whispered something, and dipped.
next thing you know the whole squad rolled up—jake, sunoo, sunghoon, jay, and heeseung crowding the doorway like it was a zoo exhibit or smth.
niki got so embarrassed he let out a groan and yanked the covers straight over his face, hiding completely. you couldn’t help but laugh, gently rubbing his shoulder to calm him down. you leaned in and whispered so only he could hear, “most people in relationships cuddle, ki…”
the members were cracking up, throwing in little teasing comments. eventually they started leaving, but not before sunghoon hit you with the “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do,” with a smirk as he shut the door.
even after they left, niki’s face stayed buried under the sheets, refusing to come out from embarrassment.
it's soooooo painfully obvious martin likes you. like, embarrassingly obvious.
the constant compliments, the acts of service, the way he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars.
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literally everything he does has this little undercurrent of "i am desperately, hopelessly into you" and honestly? everyone sees it. except maybe you, but you're starting to get there.
one time, you were getting ready for some stupid party neither one of you truly wanted to go to. you were standing in front of your mirror, staring at your collection of necklaces. silver one? no. gold chain? too flashy. the little one with the star? maybe. you were stuck, completely paralyzed by the weight of this incredibly unimportant decision.
so you did what you always do when you're indecisive. you called for martin.
the second his name leaves your mouth, his eyes are off his phone and on you in an instant. like, genuinely faster than should be humanly possible. one moment he's scrolling, the next he's locked in, full attention, no distractions.
"yeah?" he asks, and there's this sparkle in his eyes that makes you want to laugh. because how can someone look at you like that and not realize how obvious they're being?
you hold up the two necklaces. "should i wear this one, or this one?"
he doesn't even sigh or roll his eyes like a normal friend would. instead, he sits up, takes the question seriously, and genuinely puts thought into it. he tilts his head, squints a little, and you can practically see the gears turning in his brain.
"they'd both look good on you," he says finally, which is such a martin answer. but then he reaches into his back pocket. "but try this one."
he pulls out a necklace. it's silver, delicate, with a small heart charm on it. simple. pretty. definitely not something he just happened to have lying around.
he dangles it from his fingers, smiling this little smile that's trying so hard to be casual but absolutely failing. you walk over to take it, and you're smiling too, because come on.
"did you buy this for me," you ask slowly, "or is it yours?"
"it's for you. obviously." he says it like it's the most normal thing in the world, but his ears are already turning pink. "unless you don't like it. i can retur—"
you don't even let him finish. "no, i like it!"
you give him a hug, quick and warm, and he freezes for just a second before hugging you back. his hand lingers on your shoulder maybe a second longer than necessary.
"no problem," he says, so casually, like his heart isn't probably doing backflips right now.
but you both know damn well he's going to be kicking his feet about this later. lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying this moment over and over. maybe even telling his pillow about it.
martin always comments "tuff" and "fireee" on every single one of your instagram stories, even the boring ones. he's there within thirty seconds at most a minute.
he gets so giddy whenever he sees you, like a golden retriever who just spotted their favorite person. one time you walked into the room and he literally dropped his phone. just fumbled it right out of his hands. and then he laughed, all flustered, and you couldn't help but laugh too.
you're putting the necklace on, and it's cool against your collarbone. martin is watching you adjust it, trying so hard to look casual, but he's literally holding his breath.
"it's perfect," you say softly. "thanks."
and martin? he just melts. right there on your bedroom floor. he looks at you like you're his favorite person in the entire universe.
so yeah. it's painfully obvious. embarrassingly so.
but honestly? you don't really mind. not even a little.
이희♥︎🍵 request are open but i don't write for seonghyeon or keonho and i dont write smut about any of the members !!
breaking my very short hiatus to say WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH SOME PEOPLE.
it had come to my chronically offline attention that people are not only making graphic sexual content for cortis but are also extremely unapologetic about it.
have we forgotten that cortis are minors?
i’m going to be frank with you guys. i don’t give a damn where you live and i don’t care if cortis members are adults in the places you live. the fact of the matter is that 4/5 members of cortis are still minors in their home country. juhoon and martin might be 18 but the legal age of adulthood in korea is still 19. and the amount of blatant disrespect that some of you have for this sickens me.
by using the “adult” excuse is blatant disregard and flat out racism for ignoring the fact that these teenagers are, in fact, LITERALLY MINORS IN THEIR COUNTRY and clearly you do not care enough about them to respect them as human beings.
because not only are you ignorant of their age but you are also contributing to the sexualization of minors but also the oversexualization of east asians.
which, as a so-called kpop fan, you should be against.
writing any sort of sexual content for cortis is not acceptable, even if you are a minor. i don’t care what your age is, this does not give you the right to blatantly sexualize another human being who either is not an adult or is BARELY an adult and has already been tossed into international spotlight at such a young age!
it’s even worse for the underage cortis members. that is just. so incredibly wrong on so many levels and i cannot believe that people would be in such a hurry to dehumanize these literal children for porn.
i want to make it clear that i am not saying fanfiction is dehumanizing, and i am certainly not saying that sex work is dehumanizing. i am saying that writing smut for minors is dehumanizing, especially when these people have zero say or even a clue that this is happening.
we already know that the idol industry is filled with pedophiles. the burning sun scandal, nct’s taeil, and min heejin are a few of the thousands unknown and trust me, there are so many more that are actively working close with these idols and we just don’t know it. engaging in this kind of content while speaking out against these kinds of people is just blatant hypocrisy and i don’t care if you think it doesn’t directly affect them. yeah, ok, maybe it doesn’t, but if anything, you’re just fueling the desires of potential creeps or, GOD FORBID, sasaengs.
disagree if you want. but i refuse to engage in nsfw content for idols that aren’t even past the legal age in their home country.
info. fluff, friendly competition, keonho-martin beef is alive and well, true to their irl basketball skills aha, reader is juhoon’s sisters bsf
synopsis. hot summer night meant a chill hangout outside someone's house and just friendly fun... until the boys decided to make it a competition. aaand, you were the prize.
▸ feedback & reblogs are highly appreciated
wc. 5.5k
maddy's note. all this basketball goat propaganda is getting in my head and i js let my imagination go..... 😹😹😹this was a little self-indulgent so yeeaaaah idk what this is but have fun LMFAOOAOA chill on the banner ik its chopped pls 😖😖
lucky girl syndrome is also a very applicable song i forgot to include but oh well
Basketball was weird. You liked to watch soccer, watched golf with your dad sometimes and honestly you found hockey quite interesting whenever a fight broke out. But basketball... felt like a mini, weirder version of soccer.
Tonight, though, your close-minded opinion would change. 100% if five of your best friend's brother's friends had anything to do with it.
Everybody Here Wants You by Jeff Buckley leaked out of someone’s phone and the bass turned the heavy July air even thicker. Summer in the suburbs meant humidity that stuck to your skin with the sharp smell of cut grass, hot asphalt, and streetlights blinking on just as the sun dropped low enough to stain everything orange.
You’d been here a million times. Ji‑hye’s house sat at the end of the cul‑de‑sac, her driveway split down the middle by a crooked crack where a tree root had bullied the concrete years ago. The hoop at the top was one of those adjustable ones, net frayed, backboard cracked in the corner, a faded NIKE sticker peeling at the edges. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
The guys were already there.
Juhoon was mid‑shot when you and Ji‑hye walked up. The ball arced high, spun once against the streetlight glow, and dropped through the net with a clean swish. He didn’t celebrate, just stepped forward to catch the rebound, body moving on muscle memory, and bounced it once before swinging a pass out to James.
“Finally,” Keonho called from the grass. He was half‑lying on his side, propped on one elbow. His phone was in one hand and a half‑empty Gatorade in the other, socks already dirty from rolling around. “Thought you guys died.”
“We stopped for snacks,” Ji‑hye announced, shaking a plastic convenience‑store bag so the wrappers rustled. “Unlike you animals who probably haven’t eaten since lunch.”
“I had ramen like an hour ago,” Martin chimed in. He sat on the curb, bending over to tie his shoe. When he stood up, the height difference hit you all over again. Six‑three did not need to be that dramatic for someone who couldn’t make a free throw to save his fucking life.
“That doesn’t count,” you pointed out, following Ji‑hye toward the hammock strung between two trees at the edge of the driveway. “Ramen is like… water with flavor.”
“It’s carbs,” Martin argued, eyebrows pulling together to make that outraged face he loved so much.
“It’s sodium overload, you stupid idiot,” Ji‑hye shot back.
Seonghyeon laughed under his breath. He was leaning against the garage door, arms folded, hair pushed back from his forehead in a way that should’ve looked messy but of course it didn’t. Because it was Seonghyeon. “She’s right. You’re gonna have a heart attack before you’re twenty‑five.”
“Worth it,” Martin muttered, but he smiled.
You dropped into the hammock first. The nylon fabric dipped under your weight and creaked slightly as it rocked. Ji‑hye flopped in beside you, shoulder pressed to yours, one knee hooked over the side. She immediately started digging through the bag—chips, gummies, a chocolate bar that had probably already melted into one unfortunate slab.
As you got settled, James glanced over from the wing. His eyes flicking between you, the hammock, and the hoop like he was taking inventory of the whole scene. He lifted his hand in a small wave that was so casual. You wiggled your fingers back, and he ducked his head, the corners of his mouth tugging up before he reset his stance.
It hit you then. This funny, dumb revelation: they were all kind of cute. In their own different, annoying, very obvious ways. Tall and obnoxious. Handsome and deadly accurate. Fox‑eyed and too observant. Loud and ridiculous and way too into you. You didn’t say it out loud to Ji-hye—you weren’t insane, god—but the thought sat there anyway.
“You guys playing or what?” Juhoon asked. He started dribbling again and the steady thump‑thump of the ball against concrete cutting through the music.
“We’re supervising,” Ji‑hye replied, already tearing open a bag.
“That means no,” James translated without looking away from the hoop. He lifted the ball, flicked his wrist, and hit another swish that didn’t even touch the rim.
“Show‑off,” Keonho groaned.
You smiled into your shoulder. This was normal. It was comfortable in this specific way summer nights got.
“Tell me you’re at least hydrated,” Ji‑hye warned. “I’m not trying to watch any of you pass out in my driveway.”
“I have Gatorade,” Keonho bragged, holding it up like a trophy before taking a long, obnoxious sip.
“That’s sugar salt water,” you pointed out.
“And?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tastes like winning.”
“You literally just missed your last three shots,” Martin reminded him.
“Minor detail.”
The song switched. SUMMER by BROCKHAMPTON came on, the bass heavier and the vocals muffled through the tiny speaker on the hood of Juhoon’s mom’s car. The sound distorted on the louder parts, but it still wrapped around the driveway like a blanket.
“This is my song,” Keonho declared, pointing at his phone like he’d invented it.
“You say that about every song,” Seonghyeon commented and rolled his eyes.
“Because I have taste.”
“You have ADHD, bruh,” Martin deadpanned.
Keonho kicked the ball at him. Martin caught it with one hand, unimpressed.
“Can we play an actual game, or are we just gonna brick shots all night?” Juhoon asked. He spun the ball lazily on his palm, gaze flicking between them.
“I vote actual game,” James said. He rolled his shoulders once, like he was finally waking up.
“Teams?” Seonghyeon suggested, pushing off the garage. Up close, you could see a faint sheen of sweat along his hairline, his shirt sticking slightly at the collarbone as he adjusted his chain.
“Nah.” Keonho straightened, dribbling between his legs in a way that looked more chaotic than impressive. “Let’s do a challenge. Make it interesting.”
“Interesting how?” Juhoon pressed and arms folded over his chest, full skeptical.
Keonho’s eyes flicked toward the hammock. Toward you. He didn’t even bother hiding it this time. Then he looked back at the others, a grin already working its way onto his face.
“Hold up,” he said, letting the ball roll toward James. “Team meeting.”
He hooked a hand into Martin’s hoodie sleeve and yanked him forward. Seonghyeon stepped in automatically. James drifted closer like gravity had tugged him. Juhoon sighed, but walked into the circle last, because pretending he didn’t care was pointless and everyone knew it.
They huddled near the free‑throw line, backs half‑turned to you and Ji‑hye. From the hammock, you caught flashes of faces and half‑heard words over the music.
“—most makes—”
“That’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, it’s incentive.”
“You’re gonna lose anyway.”
“Shut up, I’m manifesting.”
Martin said something you couldn’t catch. His jaw was clenched, eyes cutting your way for a second before he snapped them back to the group. James shook his head slowly, but his mouth twitched like he was amused despite himself. Seonghyeon had his hand over his lips like he was hiding a smile.
“What does the winner even get?” Martin asked. His voice was a little louder.
Keonho dropped his voice, but the night carried enough over to the hammock.
“ISO,” he whispered, all cheerful like he birthed the greatest idea ever. “One‑on‑one time. Duh.”
Juhoon groaned immediately. “You are not turning my driveway into a fucking dating show.”
“It’s not a dating show,” Keonho argued. “It’s a friendly performance incentive.”
“That’s literally worse,” James muttered, eyes crinkling.
“You’re actually insane,” Seonghyeon added, but he was fully smiling now.
“It’s summer,” Keonho insisted. “Let me be delusional in peace, damn.”
“Bullshit, you’re 'delulu' year‑round,” Martin replied.
“Exactly. I’m consistent.”
From beside you, Ji‑hye whispered, “If Keonho gets any closer to you with that ‘ISO’ crap, I’m locking you in the house.”
“The fact that you think I’d willingly do that,” you murmured back, “is crazy.”
She snorted.
You already knew Keonho had a crush. He’d been soft‑launching it for months. But oh my... it was in the loudest, most obvious way possible. Pointed “you’re pretty”s and carrying your bag then forgetting it on the bus. Tonight was just like… more. The others, though—that was where your brain short‑circuited. You’d always filed them under “Juhoon’s friends,” safe category. They were not acting safe right now.
The huddle broke. The boys drifted back to their spots. They were all pretending that had been a very normal, not a conversation for plotting.
“All right,” Keonho announced, clapping his hands once. “New rules. Everyone shoots. Most makes wins.”
“Wins what?” Juhoon questioned, like he didn’t already know.
“That’s it,” Keonho confirmed, but he didn’t look at Martin when he said it. He looked at you.
James exhaled through his nose, the tiniest almost‑laugh. “Sure. I’m in.”
“Same, I guess,” Seonghyeon agreed, spinning the ball once before passing it to Juhoon.
Juhoon stepped up to the top of the key, adjusted his grip once, then shot. The ball sailed clean and hit the net with a satisfying swish.
“One,” he announced, casual like it hadn’t even been a question.
James moved into place, checked his footing, then lifted. His shot hit nothing but net.
“Two,” he counted, nodding once.
As he backpedaled, James’s eyes found you again for a beat. He didn’t say anything, just gave this small, almost shy half‑smile like he was quietly pleased you’d seen it. You raised your brows like, obviously, and his shoulders relaxed a fraction before he slid back into position.
Seonghyeon took his, form smooth. Those stupid broad shoulders relaxed. Swish.
“Okay, I see you,” Juhoon called, clapping his hands once.
You watched the way Seonghyeon’s wrist snapped, the way he followed through. He didn’t glance over right away, but when he did, it was quick—eyes dragging from your face down to your legs and back up in one smooth pass before he looked away like nothing had happened. It was so fast you probably could’ve pretended you imagined it. You chose not to. Your face felt warmer.
Martin stepped to the free‑throw line. He bounced the ball twice, jaw working. For a second, his eyes flicked to you again, like he needed to check you were still watching. Then he looked back at the hoop, exhaled, and shot.
The ball hit the back of the rim and spun out.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
“Skill issue,” Keonho tossed in immediately and clapped his hands.
“You literally just airballed a layup ten minutes ago,” Martin shot back.
“That was different.”
“How?”
“It just was.”
You bit back a laugh, pressing your lips together. The hammock swayed slightly as Ji‑hye shifted, her head dropping against your shoulder.
“They’re so stupid,” she murmured.
“The stupidest,” you agreed.
But your eyes stayed on the court.
When it was finally his turn, Keonho jogged to a spot somewhere between the free‑throw line and the three‑point line. He dribbled once, twice, shoulders a little too loose, energy buzzing under his skin. Then he turned his head fully toward the hammock.
“This one’s for you,” he announced, pointing at you with the ball.
“Oh my god,” you muttered and shook your head.
Ji‑hye didn’t even try to hide her grin. “He’s so embarrassing.”
He shot.
It hit the rim and bounced off with a loud, tragic clank. The ball skidded toward the grass.
“That was definitely for her,” Ji‑hye cackledv.
“In spirit,” Keonho defended as he jogged after it. “The ball just didn’t get the memo.”
“Skill issue, lil bro,” Martin added, mocking the youngest.
“Shut up.”
The song switched. Rollercoaster by Justin Bieber started playing and immediately Keonho's head whipped toward his phone on the car hood.
"Ugh, this song," he groaned, but there was zero bite to it. He was grinning.
"Yo bruh, whose playlist is this?" Martin asked while lining up another shot.
You raised your hand lazily from the hammock. "I just put Keonho's on."
Keonho froze mid-dribble. "Wait, what?"
"Your phone was unlocked," you explained innocently. "So I commandeered the aux."
"Commandeered," Seonghyeon repeated, laughing under his breath. "She's fancy with it."
"I just didn't want to listen to you complain about every song," you defended.
"I don't complain about every song," Keonho protested.
"You literally do," Juhoon confirmed while catching a pass from James.
"Name one time."
"Last week. The entire car ride to the mall."
"That was constructive criticism."
"You said the Jonas Brothers made your ears bleed."
"And I stand by that."
Ji-hye snorted next to you. "He's got a point though. Your music taste is questionable."
"Thank you," Keonho replied, then paused. "Wait, is that a compliment or—"
"It's not," you and Ji-hye said at the same time.
They kept shooting. And slowly, the atmosphere changed.
Juhoon and James stayed locked in, each make earning a low hum of approval from the other. Seonghyeon hovered just behind them, form tightening, eyes flicking in your direction now and then like he was quietly checking if you'd noticed he was actually kind of good at this. Martin missed more than he made, but every time he got the ball, his shoulders squared like he was trying to will the rim into cooperating.
And every time it was Keonho's turn, he turned to you first.
Sometimes he pointed. Sometimes he just held your gaze a second too long. Sometimes he muttered, "Okay, watch this," under his breath like a prayer to no one in particular.
Half the time he missed badly. Once, he launched it so hard it sailed right over the backboard into the bushes.
It was calm for a second while the moment set in and... then the entire driveway cracked.
“OVER THE BACKBOARD?” Martin doubled over, hands on his knees. “HOW.”
“I don’t know what happened,” Keonho blurted, staring at the bushes like they’d betrayed him.
“You launched it into a different fucking time zone,” Seonghyeon laughed. For a minute his voice cracked and that stuttering version of himself came out.
“That was close though,” Keonho tried.
“It wasn’t even close to close,” James pointed out and shook his head while going to retrieve the ball until Keonho, the culprit himself—stopped him.
“Mentally it was close,” Keonho insisted, running a hand through his sweaty hair in desperation.
You were absolutely gone. The hammock shook under you, Ji‑hye wheezing into your shoulder.
“That’s your man,” she whispered and patted you on the shoulder again.
“What the hell? He is not my anything,” you protested, wiping at your eyes.
“Okay, but he just attempted intergalactic basketball in your honor. Airball times a million, deadass. I feel like that counts for something.”
Keonho trudged into the bushes and the branches scraping his legs, and came back holding the ball.
“I’m done,” he declared. “Retiring while I’m ahead, sorry to my fans.”
“You’re at like three,” Juhoon reminded him.
“Exactly. I’m preserving my legacy.”
“What legacy?” Martin asked.
“The legacy of trying my best,” Keonho replied. “And looking so sexy while doing it.”
“Very debatable,” you called with a hand to accentuate your voice.
He pressed a hand to his chest. “Wow. Can’t believe you—out of anyone—would say something this harsh to my face.”
“Accurate,” you rebutted.
The music shifted again. Tell Me by Wonder Girls filtered through the speaker and Keonho's entire face lit up.
"Oh shit, this is THE song," he announced, immediately starting to do the choreography. Badly. Very badly.
His arms flailed in what was probably supposed to be the signature move but looked more like he was swatting invisible flies. His footwork was nonexistent. He was just vibing, fully committed to the bit.
"Please stop," Juhoon begged, laughing so hard he had to brace himself against the garage.
"Never," Keonho shot back, spinning in a circle that was definitely not part of the actual choreo.
Martin covered his face with both hands. "This is painful to watch."
"This is art," Keonho corrected, still going. He pointed at you during what was supposed to be a hip roll but looked more like a full-body twitch. "You see this? This is dedication."
You and Ji-hye were dying. Like... fully losing it. She was laughing so hard no sound was coming out, just this silent wheeze while tears streamed down her face.
"He's so stupid," she managed.
"The stupidest," you agreed, trying to catch your breath.
Keonho finished with a dramatic spin and bow and his chest heaving. "So how was my performance? A ten, right?"
"Three out of ten," you offered generously.
"THREE?"
"Maybe two and a half."
"You're brutal," he accused while clutching his chest like you'd shot him.
"You asked."
"I didn't think you'd actually roast me."
"Should've thought that through," Ji-hye added, still wiping her eyes.
Seonghyeon was bent over laughing, one hand on his knee. Even James had cracked, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Martin just shook his head, grinning despite himself.
"Alright, alright," Juhoon cut in, trying to regain some control. "Can we please get back to the game before Keonho decides to audition to be an idol?"
"I would kill that audition," Keonho defended.
"You would kill the PDs," Martin muttered. "With secondhand embarrassment."
They picked up where they'd left off. The competition was ramping up now. You could feel it in the way they moved. It was a bit less casual and more locked in. Every shot seemed to matter a tiny bit more.
Juhoon took his next shot. Swish.
“Nine,” he said, a little proud of himself.
James followed. Another clean make.
“Eight.”
Seonghyeon stepped up. His shot kissed the rim before dropping through. His hand flexed at his side and his tongue rolled inside of his cheek.
“Seven.”
They were stacked now. A little toooo close. You could feel it in the air, that unspoken thing thickening between the bouncing ball and the soft vocals bleeding out of the tiny speaker.
Martin made another one—somehow—and actually let out a small, disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair like he couldn’t believe it either.
“Two,” he counted.
“Character development,” you called and stifled a laugh.
He glanced over, cheeks a little pink, and that was enough to make your stomach turn a little.
"Rewind" by Wonder Girls came on next and the vibe shifted. The song was dreamier, slower. The driveway seemed to exhale with it.
"Oh, I love this one," Ji-hye murmured next to you, eyes closed as she swayed slightly.
You did too. Something about the melody made the night feel more suspended, almost like you were all moving through honey.
The ball rolled back to Seonghyeon. He caught it, spun it in his hands once, then walked a little closer to where you sat, like he’d drifted off‑mark on purpose.
“You’re judging, huh?” he asked, looking right at you. His gaze almost knocked the wind out of you.
Seriously, this guy's eye contact hit like a spotlight. He didn’t look away, but leaned into it—deep, scanning your face almost as if he was memorizing it. The attention made your throat feel dry for the first time tonight, changing it from the joking and t4easing persona you took on for Keonho and Martin.
“Somebody has to keep you humble,” you managed and tucked a stray hair behind your ear.
He nodded slowly. His gaze dropped for half a second— to your shirt, shorts, bare knees crossed in the hammock—and then back up to your face. It wasn’t gross or anything. But just… incredibly obvious. It was weirdly confident in a way he usually wasn’t around you. Or anyone, actually. Your heart flipped over in your chest like a fish or something.
“Then watch this one,” he said, simple and smirking.
He stepped back to his spot, lifted, and sank it clean.
Of fucking course he did.
The song melted into the next and you found yourself getting lost in the rhythm of it all. The bounce of the ball. The swish of the net. The occasional groan when someone missed. The laughter when Keonho inevitably did something stupid.
They kept playing until Hurt by NewJeans started playing and the whole energy shifted again. It was sweet and more introspective. The kinda song that made you want to lie on your back and stare at the sky.
The ball rolled back to Keonho again. He caught it against his hip and didn't move right away, chest lifting with each breath. Sweat glowed along his throat and collarbone. Up close, the little scrapes on his shins and the tiny cut on his knuckle made him look less like the loud clown who never shut up and more like a boy who'd actually run himself into the ground for this stupid game.
“Okay,” he muttered. “Lock the fuck in.”
“You say that every time,” Juhoon remarked.
“This time I mean it,” Keonho replied narrowing his eyes at his supposed friend turned competition.
“You meant it last time,” James reminded him.
“Let him cook,” Seonghyeon said, even though he was clearly laughing at his misery.
Keonho dribbled once, then looked at you again. Less of a bit this time. Sort of more of a question he hadn’t figured out how to ask out loud.
“Rate my shot if I make this,” he called.
“If you make it, I’ll think about it,” you shot back.
“About rating it?”
“About watching you embarrass yourself again.”
He grinned, shook out his shoulders, and finally shot.
The ball left his hands clean. For a second, it hung there, cutting through the yellow light. Then it dropped, hitting nothing but net.
The driveway exploded.
“OKAY,” he yelled, running in a small, stupid circle. “OKAY, THAT’S HOW YOU FRICKIN' DO IT, CLOWNS.”
“Finally,” Juhoon said but he was smiling anyway.
“Three makes,” James noted. “Your field‑goal percentage is still awful, by the way.”
“Let me have this,” Keonho pleaded. He looked back at you, breathing hard, cheeks flushed. “So?”
You shrugged, even though your heart had gone weird in your chest. “Seven out of ten.”
“SEVEN?” He looked personally offended, throwing up a hand. “That was at least a nine.”
“The ball barely went in.”
“It went in. That’s all that matters”
“If you say so.”
Ji-hye leaned close and whispered so quietly only you could hear. "They look like squirrels racing for an acorn. Bro, what is this competition?"
You bit your lip to keep from laughing because she was absolutely right. That's exactly what it looked like. Five guys suddenly trying way too hard, taking this way too seriously, and for what?
Bragging rights. Sure.
They kept playing until bodies started slowing down and the air turned from heavy to chilled. Somebody checked a phone and squinted at the time.
“It’s almost midnight,” James reported. “For real this time.”
“That’s late?” Martin asked.
“For a school night? Yeah.”
“It’s summer,” Seonghyeon reminded him.
“Oh. Right.”
Eventually they collapsed onto the grass and curb in a loose sprawl. The game dissolved into half‑hearted shots and lazy passes. The music dropped to background noise and fireflies blinked out near the neighbor’s yard. The street felt quieter, like the whole cul‑de‑sac empty save for you guys.
You slipped out of the hammock carefully so you didn’t wake Ji‑hye—she’d gone fully limp against the fabric, mouth slightly open, phone still in her hand. Your legs were stiff from sitting so long, but the ache was a good one to stretch out.
You walked over and sank down on the grass next to where Keonho had starfished out, arms spread like he’d tried to hug the entire planet and lost.
“You good?” you asked.
“Never better,” he mumbled without opening his eyes.
“You played terrible.”
“I’m aware.”
“Like really terrible.”
“You don’t have to keep saying it,” he complained.
You nudged his shin with your foot. He cracked one eye open, squinting up at you.
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
On the curb, Martin watched the exchange, chin propped on his knees. “She’s not wrong,” he added.
You turned your head toward him. “You’re talking a lot for someone who finally hit a free throw in, like, overtime.”
He laughed once, surprised. “That’s slander.”
“It’s literally what happened.”
He rolled his eyes, but there was a softness there you weren’t used to. “You make it sound like a documentary,” he said. “ ‘Local man bricks twelve in a row in front of the girl his friend is in love with.’ ”
The words slipped out and hung there. Your brain short‑circuited for a second.
“Martin,” Keonho warned.
“What?” Martin said, shrugging. “Everybody knows.”
You swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting to all of them.
Seonghyeon laughed softly from where he’d slid back against the garage again. “You guys are hopeless,” he said.
A quiet rustle next to you made you glance over. He had pushed off the wall and dropped down to sit a little closer, stretching his legs out in front of him. From this angle, you could see the faint purple of a bruise on his shin and the way his socks didn’t match.
“You were really watching, huh?” he asked, his deep voice low enough that it didn’t carry past the small patch of grass you were both in.
“Yeah,” you admitted. “You’re kind of stupidly good at this.”
He huffed out a small laugh, mouth curving. His eyes locked on yours again, and this time he didn’t look away. “Don’t tell them that. I like when they underestimate me,” he said. “Makes it easier to surprise them. It feels like I'm the goated underdog.”
The way he held your gaze made your stomach do something ridiculous. He didn’t stutter and or fumble over his words like usual. Seonghyeon just sat there, looking at you like he was done pretending he hadn’t already noticed you’re always here.
You dropped your eyes first. You were staring very hard at a piece of grass near your shoe.
The conversation drifted back into comfortable nothing—half‑plans about the beach, arguments about which convenience store had the best kimbap, someone insisting they needed to do this again “for real” next week. You leaned back on your hands and looked up at the sky, that weird almost‑black, almost‑purple color with a couple of stubborn stars fighting through the light pollution.
“This was fun,” you said quietly, more to the air than to anyone specific.
“Yeah?” Keonho asked. He’d pushed himself up on his elbows now, looking at you with an expression that wasn’t a bit, not really.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
He held your gaze for one second, two, three—you didnt know, but long enough for your heartbeat to stutter.
Then a bottle cap pinged off his arm.
“Stop being weird,” Juhoon ordered.
“I’m not being weird.”
“You’re being so weird,” Martin agreed.
“All of you are weird,” Ji‑hye’s voice cut through from the hammock. Apparently she’d resurfaced. “And loud. I’m going inside.”
She peeled herself out of the hammock with her hair a mess, and stomped toward the front door, letting the screen slam behind her.
“She’s so pleasant,” Keonho muttered.
“She’s my sister,” Juhoon reminded him.
“And?”
“And shut up.”
You pushed yourself to your feet, brushing grass off the backs of your legs. “I should probably go too.”
“Already?” Seonghyeon askedand he sounded genuinely disappointed.
“It’s midnight.”
“So?”
“So I have a curfew.”
“Lame,” Keonho complained.
“Responsible,” James corrected.
“Same thing.”
You pulled your phone out, thumb hovering over your mom’s contact, but before you could tap it, Juhoon shook his head and stood.
“I’ll drive you,” he offered with a wave of his hand. “It’s late, don’t bother your parents.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
The boys started moving again, gathering bottles and phones and the rogue snack wrappers that had escaped. The music finally cut off when someone grabbed the phone from the car hood, and the sudden quiet felt strange after hours of constant noise.
“Same time next week?” Keonho called as Juhoon headed for the porch.
“Probably,” Juhoon answered.
“Cool.”
Keonho glanced at you one more time. The same easy, tilted smile back in place like he hadn’t spent the entire night accidentally confessing via terrible jump shots. “See you around.”
“See ya, airballee,” you echoed and he rolled his eyes with zero bite whatsoever.
As you turned toward the car, James drifted closer, hands tucked into the pocket of his shorts.
“Hey,” he started. His voice was low enough that it didn’t feel like part of the group noise. “Thanks for… uh, staying the whole time.”
“You guys would’ve cried if you lost your audience,” you replied.
He actually laughed at that, head dropping for a second. “Probably. It’s more fun when you’re here, anyway.” He said it so casually you almost missed how honest it sounded. “Text me if you get home too late and your mom kills you, okay? I’ll tell my parents it was my fault.”
“You’re volunteering as tribute?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I owe you for having to watch all those embarrassing bricks.”
You smiled and said bye after he gave you a high-five.
You followed Juhoon to the car. The drive home was a blur of empty streets and blinking traffic lights and some Daniel Caesar song humming low on the radio while you stared out the window and replayed everything: the music, the missed shots, the laughter, the way they’d all kept looking over like there was more at stake than a stupid bet.
Ji‑hye’s voice echoed in your head. They look like squirrels racing for an acorn.
You fought a smile at the thought.
Juhoon pulled up to your house and put the car in park. He turned to you and stared at you with a tilt of his head. "Here we are."
"Thanks," you offered.
"Anytime."
You unbuckled and opened the door with a pause.
"Hey Juhoon?"
"Yeah?"
"Your friends are idiots."
He laughed. "Yeah. I know."
You shut the door and headed inside. Waved once from the porch. He waited until you were fully in before driving away.
When you finally collapsed into bed—hair smelling like sweat and summer air and someone else’s fabric softener—your brain wouldn’t shut up. It looped through every glance and every pointed “this one’s for you,” every quiet look from Seonghyeon, every rare grin from Martin, James’s small smiles and even Juhoon’s “this is weird” comment.
And the way Keonho had kept looking at you like maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t all a joke anymore.
That dumb basketball game did not feel like just fun and games now.
You didn’t know what to do about that, so you were gonna do nothing. You just laid there, thinking, wondering and trying so very hard not to admit that you found all of them a little bit dangerous, in different ways. The ghost of bass still thudded somewhere in your chest like the night hadn’t actually ended yet.
synopsis. so what's it like dating a cortis member??
▸ feedback & reblogs are highly appreciated
wc. 3.2k
author's note. eeeek i love them downnnn this was fun to make bc it genuinely just flowed out of me anywho have this and something else i drop later :3
Martin Edwards Park as your boyfriend is literally golden retriever plus music producer and it's incredibly messy but in the best way possible.
He loves to spam you with voice memos at 3AM like "BABE BABE listen to this beat I just made" and it's either the hardest thing you've ever heard or just him beatboxing for 45 seconds. And it makes you giggle every time. Either way he's sitting there in the dark waiting for your response like his life depends on it. If you say anything even remotely positive, he's screenshotting it and probably crying a little.
Height difference goes crazy with him. Dude is 6'3" so he's always leaning down to hear you, resting his chin on top of your head, using you as an armrest (even though you threaten to fade him every time). His ass thinks it's hilarious. You'll be trying to have a serious conversation and he's just there towering over you with that stupid fond smile that makes you forget why you were even mad.
Martin is tactile. In other words, clingy, touchy etc. Like cannot keep his hands to himself tactile. Always holding your hand, playing with your fingers, pulling you into random hugs from behind. In the studio he'll have you sit on his lap while he works, one arm around your waist, the other on the mouse, and he's fully multitasking like it's normal. If you try to move he's like "no, what are you doing?" without even looking away from the screen.
His love language is making you playlists. You'll wake up to a new Spotify playlist titled some random shit like "songs that remind me of ur face" or "for when i'm feining for u (i miss u x3000)" and it's 3 hours long. He's put thought into the order too, like it tells a story. And if you tell him you listened to it, he gets so hype—Martin will quiz you on your favorite songs and get fake offended if you skipped any.
Date nights are lowkey spontaneous and always involve music somehow. He'll be like "get dressed we're going out" and suddenly you're at this tiny underground show or some record store that's open till midnight. Or you'll just drive around aimlessly with the windows down, his hand on your thigh, aux cord privileges fully yours because he's obsessed with your music taste. Because, of course he loves everything his girlfriend does.
When he's producing for other artists or sunbae-nims he gets really in his head about it. Like he'll work himself to exhaustion and forget to eat. It's at a point where you've learned to just show up with food and sit with him quietly until he takes a break. He always pretends he's annoyed but pulls you into the biggest hug after and mumbles "thank you" into your hair.
Martin is so proud of you, it's almost embarrassing. He will hype you up for literally anything. You could send him a fit pic and he's posting it on his close friends like "LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND??? HELLO???" with 50 heart emojis. The members clown him for it constantly but he genuinely doesn't care because he looooves you into the next dimension.
He's also very thoughtful in ways that catch you off guard. He remembers every little thing you mention in passing. For example, you said you liked a specific snack once three months ago? He's buying it every time he sees it. You mentioned wanting to learn guitar? He's already ordered you one and cleared space in his schedule to teach you.
Arguments tend to be rare because he HATES conflict with you specifically. If something's wrong he wants to talk it out immediately, gets all serious and holds both your hands like "what's going on, baby, talk to me." He'll listen to everything you have to say without interrupting, and even if he disagrees he's so respectful about it. He also apologizes when he's wrong without making excuses because he's doesn't like bullshit.
Sometimes, his negative side does shine through. Martin can be overwhelming sometimes. Like his energy is a lot and there are days where you just need quiet and he's bouncing off the walls talking a mile a minute about seven different things. He doesn't always read the room well, especially when he's excited about something. You've had to tell him straight up "I need you to chill for a sec" and he gets it, but in the moment he just doesn't notice he's being too much.
He also has a tendency to overwork himself, especially with production. He'll stay up for 48 hours straight working on a track, forget to eat, ignore his health completely. You've found him passed out at his desk multiple times. When you try to get him to take breaks he gets frustrated, says he's "almost done" (he's never almost done). It's scary sometimes because you worry about him burning out but he's so driven he doesn't know how to stop.
When it's late and you're both tired, he gets extra sweet with you. He traces patterns on your skin absentmindedly, plays with your hair, asks you random deep questions like "do you think we knew each other in past lives?" He'll fight sleep just to stay up talking to you, even though he has practice early. When he finally does fall asleep he's got you locked in his arms like he's scared you'll disappear.
Also he's definitely the type to send you songs he's working on like "doesn't this remind you of us? it's goated, right" and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard and now you're crying at 2PM on a Wednesday. He acts all shy about it after like he didn't just create the soundtrack to your entire relationship.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ ZHAO YUFAN / JAMES
James is quiet in a way that makes you hyper-aware of everything he does. He's not awkward-quiet at all, just... incredibly selective. When he talks, it's because he actually has something to say, which makes people listen harder than they normally would.
He's like incredibly versatile in the sense that he can be the goofiest goober ever and also be so freaking intimidating (reference to him in the airport footage hello).
He's NOT a big texter but when he does text you it's either a full essay about something he's been thinking about OR just "i need to talk" at four in the morning with no context. You've learned both require immediate attention. The essays are him being vulnerable in the only way he knows how, and the random texts are him missing you badly but being too shy to say it outright.
James is big on quality time but in the most lowkey way. He doesn't need to be doing anything specific, he just wants you there, you know? You'll be sitting in the same room in complete silence, him working on music, you doing whatever, and he's fully content. Every so often he'll look over at you and smile to himself before going back to what he was doing. If you catch him, he gets so flustered and tries to play it off.
His pet names for you are either in Chinese or Thai and he REFUSES to tell you what they mean at first. You had to literally beg him for translations and even then he got all embarrassed about it even tho he was the one who made them. Now you use them back and he malfunctions every single time, tries to hide his face because he's blushing too hard.
James shows love through acts of service in the most thoughtful ways. Your phone's always charged because he plugs it in without asking. There's always your favorite snacks stocked at his place. He notices when you're cold before you say anything and he's already handing you his hoodie. He'll tie your shoes if they come undone, fix your necklace clasp if it's twisted, move hair out of your face when you're eating. He never makes a big deal out of any of it, but he does baby you occasionally.
When he's comfortable, he's so funny in this really dry, sarcastic way that has you dying. He'll troll you with the straightest face and then crack up at your reaction. The members say you're the only person who can make him laugh that hard, and that's not something he takes lightly. Your laugh is literally his favorite sound.
Studio sessions with him are intimate in a way that's hard to explain. He'll let you sit in while he works, which the members say he NEVER does with anyone. He'll ask for your opinion on stuff and actually take it seriously, incorporate your ideas. Sometimes he'll just look over lyrics with you sitting in his lap, your head on his shoulder, and those are his most productive sessions because you ground him.
He's terrible at expressing feelings verbally but somehow always knows exactly what you need to hear. Like he'll say the most simple thing but it hits so hard because of the way he says it, the way he looks at you when the words leave his mouth. "I'm glad you're here" shouldn't make you wanna cry but when James says it you feel it.
Date nights are super chill. Cooking together at home, watching movies in languages you don't understand while he translates, late night drives where you just talk about everything and nothing. He's not about grand gestures, he's about making sure you feel loved in the small everyday moments.
With arguments, he's patient, listens to understand not just to respond, and takes accountability when he's wrong. He never raises his voice, never says things he doesn't mean. He is always honest if he has an issue which is good. If you need space he gives it, but always checks in to make sure you're okay.
But on a real note, James can be brutally honest to the point where it hurts sometimes. He doesn't sugarcoat anything, even when maybe he should. If you ask his opinion he's giving it to you straight, with zero filter whatsoever.
Sometimes you're not ready for that level of honesty and it stings. He's not trying to be mean, he genuinely thinks he's helping, but there are moments where you wish he'd be a little gentler with his words. When you tell him he hurt your feelings he gets quiet, processes it, then feels terrible about it. He's working on the delivery but old habits die hard.
He also has this habit of shutting down when he's going through something. You have to practically drag it out of him and even then he's reluctant. Says he doesn't want to burden you with his problems (even though you've told him a million times that's literally what you're there for). It's frustrating because you want to support him but he won't let you in during those times.
He's stupidly talented and acts like it's nothing. You'll mention wanting to learn something and he'll casually go, "I can show you," then proceed to be the most patient teacher alive. He never makes you feel dumb for not getting it right away, just keeps explaining different ways until it clicks.
James at night is your favorite version of him though. His guard is completely down, he's extra affectionate, says things he'd never say during the day. His texts get longer and more thoughtful. He'll send voice messages in Chinese or Thai, forgetting to translate until you remind him, then he laughs at himself—the most genuine sound you've learned to appreciate.
He tells you in detail how much you mean to him, how scared he was to let someone in because of things he's gone through but how grateful he is that it was you. He holds your face in his hands and kisses your forehead like you're the most precious thing in the world. Those moments feel like he's letting you see the version of himself he doesn't show the world, and it's genuinely everything.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ KIM JUHOON
Juhoon is the definition of "acts nonchalant but is actually such a cinnamon roll." He'll try to play it cool, but then you'll say something nice and he gets flustered so easily it's almost funny. His ears turn red before his face does, and he always tries to hide it by looking away or suddenly becoming very interested in his phone. it's so incredibly endearing you get emotional sometimes.
Height complex is real with him. He's 5'9" which is perfectly fine but Martin's existence haunts him daily. LOL. You've caught him standing up straighter around his leader multiple times. You think it's adorable and tell him so, which makes him whine and pout. But then you'll say you like his height because it's perfect for hugs and kissing and suddenly he's smug about it.
He has this competitive streak that comes out at random times. You'll be doing something completely mundane and he'll go, "Bet I can do it better," with a straight face. And then if he loses? He pouts.
Basketball Juhoon is something else entirely though. He gets all cocky and competitive, shows off his skills, flexes when he makes a good shot. If you're watching, he plays 10x better because he's trying to impress you (it works every time). After practice, he's sweaty and tired but still makes time to see you, still asks about your day even though he's exhausted.
He's SO good at making you feel heard. Like you'll be ranting about something that happened and he's giving you his full attention, nodding along, asking follow-up questions. Remembers details you don't even remember telling him. And he remembers details—talks about them days later in conversation, proving he wasn't just humoring you. Brings stuff up weeks later like "didn't you say you had that thing today? how'd it go?"
Juhoon asks about your day in this specific way that makes it clear he actually cares about the answer. He'll listen to you ramble about the most boring stuff and nod along like it's the most interesting thing he's heard all week. And he remembers details—brings them up days later in conversation, proving he wasn't just humoring you.
He's kind of protective without being overbearing. If you're walking together, he positions himself on the street side. If it's crowded, his hand hovers near your back to make sure you don't get separated. He never calls attention to it, just does it naturally like it's not even a conscious decision.
Date nights with Juhoon are thoughtful and planned. He's not spontaneous really, likes to have things figured out ahead of time. Takes you to places he thinks you'll like, always has a backup plan if something falls through. He literally gets nervous before dates still which is so cute because you're literally already together???
He's the worst at hiding his feelings, which is crazy because you'd think he'd be the best. If something's bothering him you can tell immediately. His energy shifts, he gets even quieter, zones out. When you ask him about it, he tries to act like it's nothing but breaks after like 30 seconds and tells you everything. He ends up feeling so much better after, always says "I don't know what I'd do without you" in this soft voice that makes you wanna cry.
Juhoon can be really insecure sometimes and it manifests in not-great ways. He compares himself to the other members a lot, especially Martin (the height thing is deeper than just jokes). Sometimes he'll get in his head about not being good enough—not tall enough, not talented enough, not enough period. When he's in those moods he gets distant, starts overthinking everything you say to him, convinces himself you deserve better. You have to actively reassure him and even then it takes a while for him to believe it. It's exhausting sometimes, loving someone who can't see how amazing they are.
He can also be kinda of passive aggressive when he's upset instead of just saying what's wrong. He'll say "I'm fine" when he's clearly not fine, then get annoyed that you can't read his mind. You've had to tell him multiple times that you're not a mind reader, he needs to use his words. He's working on it but sometimes old patterns come back.
Juhoon is possessive but in this sweet way. He doesn't like when people flirt with you (even though you're clearly not interested) and gets all pouty about it after. You have to reassure him with kisses and he STILL sulks a little before finally cracking a smile. It's territorial but adorable.
When he's sleepy he becomes a whole different person. He gets extra cuddly, nuzzles into your neck, mumbles nonsense about how much he loves you. He falls asleep holding you and if you try to move even a little he tightens his grip and whines in his sleep. You've stopped trying to escape, it's impossible.
His camera roll is 70% you and he's not embarrassed about it. Candids of you doing literally nothing, screenshots of your texts when you say something cute, pictures of you sleeping (which is creepy but also kind of sweet??). The members have seen his gallery by accident and clown him endlessly but he just shrugs like "yeah and what about it? At least I have a girlfriend."
He hates fighting with you. He gets genuinely upset, not angry just hurt. Constantly wants to fix things immediately, will apologize first even if he's not fully in the wrong just because he can't stand the distance. And Juhoon makes sure you both talk it through completely before moving on, never goes to bed angry.
He stress-eats ramyeon at concerning hours. You'll get a text at 2 in the morning like "you awake?" and you know he's sitting in his kitchen with a pot of ramyeon, probably overthinking something. If you offer to keep him company, he perks up immediately, and suddenly it's a whole thing—you talking him through whatever's on his mind while he eats and periodically insists he's fine even though he's clearly not.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ EOM SEONGHYEON
Dating Seonghyeon is like being with your best friend who also happens to be the most attractive person you've ever seen. Genuinely.
The banter between you two is your favorite. It's constant roasting, teasing, and playful arguing about literally everything. You've almost built up immunity, but then he'll say something unexpectedly sweet and completely throw you off. The members can't tell if you're fighting or flirting half the time (it's always flirting). He'll say something sarcastic and you'll fire back and he gets this look in his eyes that makes it known that he's kidding before coming back with another comment. It's your love language.
Seonghyeon acts all nonchalant about the relationship but he's literally so down bad, it's embarrassing. He tries to play it cool then does something like drive 40 minutes just to bring you food you mentioned wanting once. When you call him out he's like "it was on my way" (it absolutely was not on his way and you both know it).
His lock screen is a picture of you and when people point it out he just shrugs like yeah, that's my girl. Meanwhile he spent 45 minutes choosing the his favorite photo out of his 15 choices. His home screen is you too. His wallet has a photo card of you. Man is WHIPPED but will literally never admit it out loud.
He's nerdy in a way he tries to hide but absolutely fails at. He'll reference some obscure movie or start explaining how something works in way too much detail, then catch himself and go, "Anyway, that's not important," even though he clearly wants to keep talking about it. If you encourage him, he lights up and suddenly you're getting a full lecture on film theory or production techniques.
Seonghyeon in the studio. Oh my god. It's so attractive it's actually unfair. Watching him produce is an experience because he's so focused and talented and in his element. He'll have you listen to rough drafts of his lyrics and value your opinion so much, incorporate your feedback. He says you inspire him because you're part of his real life, that some of his best work comes from just thinking about you.
He has like a hundred tracks from his trainee days and sometimes he'll play them for you late at night, and tell you the stories behind them. Those moments feel sacred because you know he doesn't share that side of himself with many people. He's vulnerable in a way he usually isn't and you make sure he knows how talented he is, how proud you are of him.
Seonghyeon has the worst poker face when he's embarrassed. You'll catch him doing something he thinks is embarrassing—singing along to a song, getting excited about something "uncool"—and he'll immediately try to play it off, but his whole face is red and he's avoiding eye contact. It's became a game at this point, trying to catch him in these moments because his reactions are priceless.
He's surprisingly good at giving advice. Not in the typical "everything will be okay" way, but in a practical, logical way that actually helps. He'll break down your problems, offer solutions you hadn't considered, and somehow make you feel better without ever being sappy about it.
Movie nights are a thing with you two. He's a film nerd, so he always has recommendations, explains techniques and symbolism while you watch. You've learned so much accidentally just from dating him. Sometimes you'll reference something he taught you and he gets this proud smile with those big dimples that makes your heart literally explode from cuteness aggression.
Seonghyeon is not a morning person whatsoever but he wakes up for you anyway. If you have an early day after sleeping over, he's up with you, making sure you eat something before you leave, kissing you goodbye even though he's half asleep. Then immediately goes back to bed for four more hours but still, the effort is noted and appreciated.
When he's annoyed with you he attempts to give you the silent treatment but it never lasts because he can't stand not talking to you. You'll let him sulk for like 20 minutes max before poking him until he cracks. He tries so hard to stay mad but ends up laughing and then he's annoyed that you made him laugh. It's a whole cycle.
He's weirdly sentimental about specific stuff. He kept ticket stubs from movies you've seen together, polaroids from random days, your hair tie on his wrist. And of course, a whole folder on his phone of just you two. Sometimes you'll catch him scrolling through it with this soft ass face and when he notices you watching he gets all flustered and defensive. My fingers just did it themselves, what?
Seonghyeon also does this thing where he fixes things without asking. Your phone brightness is too low? He's already adjusted it. You haven't ordered your food? He's already ordered for you. You're cold? He's passing you his jacket before you can protest. And if you thank him, he waves it off like it's annoying that you even noticed.
In addition to that, he's actually cracked at reading your moods. He knows when you need space vs when you need him there, when you need him to be silly vs when you need serious support. He adjusts his energy to match what you need without you having to ask. It's like he has a sixth sense for your emotions.
Physical affection is constant but casual. Hand on your thigh when you're sitting down, fingers playing with yours absentmindedly, random forehead kisses as he walks past. It's never performative, just natural, like touching you is as normal as breathing to him.
He loooves when you wear his clothes. His hoodies, his shirts, especially his jewelry. He thinks you look better in them than he does (his words, not yours). Takes pictures of you in his clothes that you're not allowed to see because he gets shy about how many there are.
Pet names are so necessary from him. Calls you "idiot" affectionately, "dummy" when you do something cute-stupid—which you used to think was so cringe in relationships. But then in soft moments it's "baby" said so gently it gives you bad cuteness aggression. The duality is insane and he knows exactly what he's doing.
When you're sick or tired he goes into nanny mode hard. Makes sure you're eating, staying hydrated, getting enough rest. He gets genuinely worried but tries to hide it behind jokes. Will stay up with you if you can't sleep, play with your hair until you drift off. Makes you promise to tell him if you need anything, even if it's like 3 in the morning.
Arguments get resolved pretty quickly because neither of you can stay mad long. He's good at communicating, talking through issues logically while still validating your feelings. Takes accountability, apologizes sincerely, makes sure you both understand each other before moving forward. Never brings up past arguments, believes in actually resolving things not just moving past them.
But here's the thing—Seonghyeon bottles up his stress like it's an Olympic sport. When he's overwhelmed with his performance or schedules or production deadlines, he doesn't tell you. He just keeps pushing through, acting like everything's fine until he eventually explodes over something small and random. You've learned to read the signs now (he gets quieter, more sarcastic than usual, pulls away slightly) but it's still frustrating because you want to help but he won't let you until he's at his breaking point. He's getting better at it but it's a process.
He can also be really stubborn during arguments. Like once he's decided he's right about something, good luck changing his mind. It's the logic brain thing—he thinks he's being rational when really he's just being hardheaded. Sometimes you have to literally walk away and come back later when he's had time to actually think about your perspective. He always apologizes after though, admits when he was being difficult.
Seonghyeon overall is just like perfect boyfriend though.
⋮ ⌗ ┆ AHN KEONHO
Keonho as your boyfriend is like dating a literal puppy who also happens to be the funniest person alive.
He genuinely has energy for miiiles. He's constantly moving, constantly talking, constantly doing something. The only time he's still is when he's sleeping or when you're playing with his hair (which knocks him out in approximately 30 seconds). Being with him is never boring because he simply does not know how to be calm.
Keonho is so openly affectionate it's almost overwhelming (in the best way). He holds your hand everywhere, kisses your cheek randomly, hugs you from behind while you're doing literally anything. He's like a koala, always attached to you somehow. The members tease him about it constantly but he genuinely does not care even a little bit.
His contact name for you in his phone is something like "my sweet angel ❤️" with like fifteen emojis and he's not embarrassed about it at all. Answers your calls with "hi baby!!!" in front of everyone. Posts you on his Instagram story constantly with captions like "prettiest person alive" and heart emojis. The members have staged interventions about how down bad he is. He ignores them every time.
But only after you guys start dating. Because before? Oh, he got anxious every time he even saw your name view his story or send him a text. It was bad. He would nonchalantly answer the phone like, "Yeah, what's up?"
Cookie is basically your child now. Keonho gets so happy when you come over and Cookie gets excited, takes approximately 900 pictures of you playing with his dog. Has a whole album on his phone called "my two favorites" and it's just you and Cookie. Sometimes Cookie sits between you during movie night and Keonho pouts about it until you give him extra attention.
He's the baby of the group so he's used to being babied in a small way but with you he wants to be the boyfriend, wants to take care of you. He opens doors, carries your stuff, tries to reach things on high shelves even though sometimes he can't quite get them (you don't tell him that, and let him have his moment). Keonho gets so proud when he does boyfriend things successfully.
Food is a big thing with him. He usually hates sharing food buuuut with you? He always wants to share everything he's eating with you, feeds you bites of his food, orders extra so you can try things. His love language might actually be feeding you at this point. Also he still loves French fries (his words) so there's always fries involved somehow. You've accepted this as part of the relationship.
He's so competitive about everything, oh my god. Video games? Fighting for his LIFE to win. Board games? Taking it personally. Random challenges? Absolutely cannot lose. If he loses, he pouts so hard, full bottom lip out, dramatic sighs, the works. You have to kiss him back to happiness and he's shameless about it, knows exactly what he's doing because he gives you that smirk and pulls you in.
Keonho gets jealous easy but tries to play it off. Someone looks at you too long and he's immediately at your side, arm around your waist, making it very clear you're together. You think it's funny and kinda cute so you don't call him out on it. He appreciates that.
His texts are insane. Sends you 47 messages in a row about seventeen different topics, voice memos that are just him screaming about something that happened, random pictures throughout the day. Your phone is constantly going off and you've learned to love it because it means he's thinking about you.
His date ideas are always fun and sometimes unpredictable. One day you're at an amusement park, next time you're having a picnic, then suddenly you're at a rage room breaking stuff together. He plans dates based on what he thinks will make you smile, puts genuine thought into it even if he acts like he just threw something together.
When he's tired he becomes so clingy it's actually insane. He needs to be in your arms immediately, face buried in your neck, whining if you try to move. Calls you "baby" in this pouty voice that makes you fold every time. He falls asleep on you constantly and honestly? You don't mind, it's when he looks so peaceful and not a menace.
Keonho is secretly really thoughtful under all the madness. He, of course, remembers important dates, knows your comfort orders from every restaurant, notices when something's bothering you before you say anything. He pays attention in ways people don't expect from someone so energetic.
He gets verrrry hype about your accomplishments like they're his own. You could tell him you finished a big project and he's literally celebrating, telling everyone, so proud he might explode. Your biggest cheerleader always, no matter how small the win. Makes you feel so supported and loved.
Pet names are adorable and plentiful. "Baby" is the default but you also get "babe," "jagiya," "yeobo" when he's being extra, and sometimes just your name said in the softest way that hits harder than any pet name. You call him "Keonho-ya" and he loves it, always lights up when you say it.
Arguments don't happen often because he HATES fighting with you. Gets genuinely sad, wants to resolve things immediately. Sometimes he needs a minute to process but he always comes back ready to talk. He tries to pologizes quickly if he's wrong, never lets things fester. He cannot sleep if you're upset with him.
Here's the hard part though—Keonho can be really immature when handling serious situations. Like you'll try to have a serious conversation about something important and he'll make a joke or try to lighten the mood when that's not what you need. He struggles with heavy emotional stuff, doesn't always know how to sit with uncomfortable feelings. Sometimes it feels like he's not taking things seriously enough and it's frustrating because you need him to be present and grown up but he retreats into humor instead.
He also gets really needy when he's anxious or stressed. Like clingy to an almost suffocating degree. He needs constant reassurance, constant attention, constant validation. There are days where you just need space and he's texting you every five minutes like "are you mad at me?" "did I do something wrong?" "do you still love me?" and it's like babe I've been gone for two hours RELAX. You know it comes from a place of insecurity but it's a lot to handle sometimes.
Plus he has a tendency to make everything about himself without realizing it. You'll be venting about your bad day and somehow it circles back to something that happened to him. He's not doing it maliciously, he just gets excited and starts talking, but it makes you feel unheard sometimes. You've had to point it out a few times and he always feels terrible when he realizes he did it.
He leaves his stuff at your place on purpose (hoodies, chargers, snacks) so he has an excuse to come back. You've called him out on it and he just grins like "oops guess I have to come over again." Not slick at all but you let him get away with it.
He is just so freaking cute.
Another Keonho comes out when it's just you two at night in the dark, though. That's when he slows down, gets all soft and cuddly. Talks about the future casually, mentions you in it like it's obvious you'll be there. "When we get our own place" or "our kids are gonna be so cute" said so naturally it makes your heart stop. Holds your face and just looks at you like he can't believe you're real. Tells you he loves you in seventeen different ways before finally falling asleep tangled up with you.
torn far from everything you´ve ever known, you wake beneath deck on a pirate ship ruled by roman: the man your father could never defeat, the one the sea itself seems to answer to. what begins as a tale of vengeance slowly unravels into something far more dangerous, where fear softens into something you refuse to name. and somewhere between captivity and longing, you realize the most terrifying part isn’t him... it´s the way you´re beginning to want him anyway.
-
✦ ݁˖ the hostage
far out on the open sea, a great ship cuts through the dark waters, vast and merciless, its black sails stretched wide against the wind like something carved from shadow. the hull groans with every wave, old timber bearing the weight of years and storms, ropes pulled tight, the entire vessel moving with a quiet, commanding purpose. and somewhere deep within it, hidden beneath deck, you are carried with it.
you wake slowly. salt in the air, something faintly metallic beneath it all. it settles heavy in your lungs. your hands press into rough planks, cold and worn, as your eyes open to dim light and narrow space. low ceiling. no windows. the air thicker here. and then, iron. bars, a locked door set into them. the realization comes quiet but certain. a cell. below deck.
above you, the ship lives. sails pull, footsteps move, and voices drift through the board. male, low. memory returns in fragments. night. hands dragging you from sleep. a voice close, controlled. no time to understand. only this. your head aches as you sit there, listening to the ship breathe around you, to the men above, to the unseen sea carrying you somewhere unknown. your eyes grow heavy again,the motion of the ship carrying you under, steady and inescapable. you try to stay awake, but you fail. and slowly, you drift back into sleep once more.
✦ ݁˖ the captain
footsteps pull you from sleep. heavy boots. each step echoing through the narrow space until they stop right outside the bars. your body goes still, breath caught as you open your eyes. for a moment, you don’t move. then you look up. he’s already there. watching you from above.
roman, ruler of the black sea. the man your father could never defeat.
the pirate the sea itself seems to answer to. feared, whispered about. the most dangerous man on the water. and the most tempting. your chest tightens. his lips curve faintly as he takes you in. "thought you’d be glad to see me." his voice is smooth. you push yourself up, let your gaze move over him, measured. "for a man with such a reputation, i expected more." he raises an eyebrow. "you’re less impressive up close." silence. he smiles. not offended. not angered. amused. like you just confirmed something for him. "is that so." he steps closer, one hand resting against the bars, gaze dragging over you slower now. you don’t look away.
"what do you want, roman?" he exhales softly, almost a laugh. "there it is." his eyes settle on yours. "i was wondering when you’d ask." he leans slightly against the iron. "for someone so carefully guarded," he continues, voice edged with quiet mockery, "you were remarkably easy to take." your stomach twists. "you made a mistake." a quiet breath leaves him. amused again. "no, i made a point.” silence stretches.
you know what he means before he says it. your father. the years of rivalry. the war that never quite ended. "you took me to get to him." you say. he doesn’t deny it. "his most prized possession," he murmurs. "his little treasure." the words land sharper than they should. you refuse to react.
"you’ve signed your own death sentence with this." your voice is sharp now, a clear warning. he exhales softly. almost amused. "not the first time." your gaze flickers over him, just for a second, something like surprise slipping through. he notices. his eyes drop. slowly. to your lips. "and not the first time a woman has been the reason." you ignore it. "will you kill me?" his gaze lifts again. "come closer." you hesitate, then take a step forward, stopping just at the bars. his hand lifts, slipping through the iron, fingers catching your jaw, tilting your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes. your pulse spikes. "i can’t ruin a pretty face like this," he murmurs, thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "that would be a waste." your chest rises unevenly.
"so no," he continues. "i won’t kill you." his eyes stay on yours. "i’ll let your father wonder instead. i’ll let him think about what i might be doing to you." the words are cold. "you’re a monster." for a moment, nothing. then his thumb stills. he lets go. just like that. he steps back. distance returns instantly, control snapping back into place. "what are you going to do then?" he doesn’t answer. just looks at you. unreadable. "roman?" nothing. he turns. footsteps already fading. you stare after him. and he’s gone. leaving you with nothing but silence and the unbearable weight of not knowing.
✦ ݁˖ vengeance
days pass before you see him again. others come instead. rough men, quiet, efficient. bringing bread and water. they don’t look at you for long. like they know you’re not theirs. like you belong to someone else. to him. like they know he’d cut off every finger they laid on you.
one afternoon, you hear the footsteps again. unmistakable. they stop right outside your cell. roman. exactly where he stood last time. his gaze settles on you, slow, measuring, like he’s taking something from you without touching you yet.
"well," he murmurs, a faint curve to his lips, "settled in yet?" your jaw tightens. "already planning my escape." a quiet laugh slips from him. "you sweet thing." he steps closer. "we’re in the middle of the sea," he continues, "nowhere to run." a slight tilt of his head. "i’m your only option." a breath leaves you, sharp, almost disbelieving. "you?"
he watches you then. and this time you let yourself look back. properly. you take him in like he’s been taking you in all along. the long brown curls falling loose around his face. the scar cutting across his eye, sharp against skin that shouldn’t look this untouched otherwise. the black shirt, open just enough to expose skin and the glint of chains that catch what little light reaches down here. and his eyes: dark. almost black in the low light. fixed on you. you feel it. the shift in your own body before you can stop it. you hate it. hate that he sees it.
"tell me," he murmurs, "what would your father say, if he saw the way you look at me?" your brows pull together. your pulse stutters. "how do i look at you?" something settles in his expression. certainty. and then he moves closer. right up to the bars. his hand slips through the iron, like he already knows you won’t stop him. his fingers find your hip. claiming. your body reacts instantly, heat spreading somewhere you don’t want to name. you don’t pull away. you can’t. your eyes drop, to his hand on you, then lift back to him. his thumb moves. just slightly. "like that." he murmurs. "just like that."
and then you come back to your senses. it doesn’t matter how beautiful he is. how effortless the charm. he is a pirate. he took you. he takes whatever he wants and that’s exactly how he’s looking at you now. something cold rises in your chest. your father’s voice echoes, warnings you never truly understood until now. pirates. something in you turns, sharp and final. and before you can think, you spit. right into his face. not fear, disgust.
his hand stills. he withdraws. his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, head tilting faintly. when he looks at you again, something has shifted. colder. "i see." he steps back. distance returns. "we took a few of your father’s men when we took you." he says it casually. your stomach drops. "what?!" his gaze holds yours. "they’ll answer for that." your breath catches. "wait, roman, please-" but he’s already turning. gone before you can say more.
the ship groans around you, old wood shifting, the sea louder now, pressing harder against the hull. you don’t move. you just listen. your hands still wrapped around the bars, breath held without meaning to. and then, a scream. raw. tearing through the ship. another follows. your grip tightens instantly. "stop!" your voice doesn’t carry. not through the wood, not through the men above, not through whatever is happening out there.
the sounds shift. boots against deck. something dragged. something heavy. and then... nothing. just the ship again. just the sea. like it swallowed everything whole. the fear settles deeper this time. not just for them. for you. time slips. you lose it somewhere between the silence and the sound of your own pulse. until something else cuts through it. rhythmic. a drop. then another. steady. you look up. dark liquid seeps through the planks above you, threading its way between the cracks. your stomach turns. you step back, shaking now, breath shallow. you don’t need to be told what it is. you already know.
and suddenly, everything about him makes sense. roman does not threaten. he does not raise his voice. he does not need to. his name is carried across the sea like a curse. because when he decides something, it becomes fate.
✦ ݁˖ on deck
as cruel as your fate is, you’ve accepted it. the sound of the waves, the constant creak of the ship, the low voices above, the footsteps. everything has become familiar. routine. you’ve understood that rebellion down here would get you nowhere. so you wait. for rescue. for the moment you might catch sight of your father’s ship through the narrow cracks in the wood of your cell. for the moment you would be free again.
"hey!" a deep voice rips you from your thoughts. one of roman’s men. he steps closer, unlocking the door without hesitation. "you’re needed above." you look at him, confused. "don’t stare. move." you nod, doing as you’re told, passing old ropes, shark bones, barrels, up the stairs.
with every step it gets brighter, louder, you narrow your eyes slightly and then, after days, you feel the sun on your skin. you open your eyes. the sea stretches endlessly around you, dark blue, the sunlight breaking silver across its surface. you hear the waves crash against the ship, the gulls above. you breathe in the salty air and for the first time, you feel something close to freedom. you feel alive.
"get to work!" another one of roman’s men bumps into you, shoving a cloth into your hands and pointing to the corner. of course. cleaning. you walk over, kneel down, and begin, since you know what follows disobedience. you work for a while before your gaze drifts. and there he is. at the helm.
a black cloth is tied around his head, barely holding his brown curls in place as the wind pulls at them anyway. his ringed hands grip the wheel and he looks out into the distance, his brows faintly furrowed, as if the world itself bends before him. his eyes are lined dark, sharpening every edge of his face. you look a second too long, wondering how something so brutal can look that beautiful.
then you force your gaze back down, back to your hands, pushing the thought away as it hits you: two of your father’s men lost their lives on this ship. and now they’re probably somewhere in that same sea.
you feel the sun on your skin, hear the gulls, focus on your work, until suddenly you feel a presence behind you. familiar. too close. "you missed a spot." his voice brushes against your neck and you know it instantly. "...where?" your voice betrays you, trembling more than you allow. he doesn’t answer. his hand brushes your waist, before settling over yours, guiding it to the spot. not help. control. he knows you’ll do exactly as he wants.
"you’re trembling." he states, confronting you. "are you afraid?" - "you’re cruel." you answer. "no, i return what i’m given. you mocked me. stained my honor." a breath. "in your father’s name." you say nothing. your gaze lingers on his hand. large, veined, resting over yours. it fits there too well.
"you should be more afraid." he murmurs. you feel him closer now. his body aligned with yours, his voice still at your skin. "why?" - "after everything, you still let me stand this close to you." his fingers shift, brushing slowly over yours, deliberate. "that means one of two things." you don’t move. "either you fear me more than you understand..." his voice dips, almost a whisper. "or you want me close anyway." your stomach tightens. "tell me which one it is, my love."
you don’t answer. you can’t. his hand slips from yours, the warmth gone too quickly. you turn too late. he’s already walking away, back to the helm, like nothing happened. like he didn’t just leave something behind in you that wasn’t there before. and suddenly, the sea feels different. wider. quieter. and far more dangerous than it did before.
✦ ݁˖ the melody
the stars already line the sky by the time you’re brought back to your cell. it feels smaller now than it did before, like the walls have moved in while you were gone. and yet, something in you is lighter. the memory of the deck still clings to you. the air. the light. the sea.
the door slams shut behind you. metal rattles. a reminder that you’re trapped again. you lower yourself into your corner, the familiar rough wood beneath you, and for a moment, you just sit there. thinking about today. about him. your fingers move without meaning to, tracing slowly over the place where his hand brushed your waist. your breath shifts. something is there. something you shouldn’t feel. something you don’t understand. and it’s wrong.
your gaze wanders until something unfamiliar catches your eye. right beside you. a small object. you lean closer, your brows knitting slightly. a carved music box. dark wood, worn smooth, delicate gold lining its edges. it doesn’t belong here. next to it, a folded piece of paper. you hesitate. just a second. then reach for it anyway. unfold it slowly. black ink. cursive handwriting. his.
when longing outweighs fear, the sea will carry your call to me.
his words settle somewhere deep in your chest. you stare at them longer than you should. your fingers tighten slightly around the paper. longing. the word lingers, even unspoken. you swallow. you sit there longer than you mean to, the ship moving beneath you, steady, endless, while your gaze stays on his words. you fold the paper again, as if that might quiet your thoughts.
he’s a pirate. your enemy. the man who took you. who killed your father’s men without hesitation. you shouldn’t be thinking about him. about the way he stood behind you. the way his hand felt over yours. the way he said my love like he meant it. your chest tightens. you close your eyes, trying to hold onto what you know is right. what you were taught. what he is. a threat. but something slips. your fingers hover over the music box. you hesitate. just a second. but then...
you wind it. the soft clicking fills the silence, followed by a melody, fragile and aching. bittersweet. it settles deep, pulling at something in you you don’t want to name. your chest feels heavy. and before you can stop yourself, you’re listening for something else. for him. your gaze lifts to the stairs. you don’t know what will come of this, what he’ll do, what he is, but it doesn’t matter. not anymore. you need to see him. and something in you aches for the sound of his steps anyway.
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