˖Ი𐑼⋆ in which ! seonghyeon ends up finding your lost phone and an enemy blossoms…
― ⭑.ᐟ non idol smau swearing fem!reader
note! omg i'm so sorry for disappearing :// i've been BUSYYYY but hopefully i get back on my grind :p and this was inspired because i bought an iphone 6 the other day and i'm actually obsessed... like kay bye. n e ways lmk if u want other parts of this!!!! <3
𑣲 part two! part three!
SYNOPSIS keonho hated one thing more than playing out of tune, and that was the sound of your voice. much to his dismay, he found that fraternizing with the enemy wasn’t so bad.
INFO angst but barely, fluff, high school au, rivals to lovers, cellist!keonho x cellist!fem!reader, teaser wc 683
WARNINGS swearing, toxic rivalry, musical terms galore, google is your friend!
NOTE very self-indulgent and based on my own musical experience… more to come when i actually write this :p i highly suggest listening to the pieces below
the concert program 𝄞 ˚*･ॱ ˙
poet and peasant overture - suppé
pavane pour une infante défunte (for orchestra) - ravel
prince igor: polovtsian dances - borodin
OCTOBER
Audition season was a musician’s doomsday. They would either let the endless hours of practicing work their magic, or have their nerves swallow them whole. Three minutes in a room, a sheet separating you and two judges, and a student helper in the corner trying not to wince at your mistakes. It was the same hell every year: all just to play in an orchestra with other random kids from around the region.
For a dedicated, over-the-top musician, it was also the day your worth was determined. Are you exceptional, or just mediocre? Would university orchestras want you? Every answer came down to the three minutes of sweaty hands, rushed audition excerpts, and shitty room acoustics.
You seemed to be a master of the process. Every time without fail, you walked out of that audition room with a convincing poker face. To the kids in line for their audition, you were easily the principal cellist. A born prodigy. Auditions were nothing to you because you were born a winner.
Keonho thought otherwise. He knew you— your weaknesses, strengths, and just how to piss you off. And who was he to not use that to his advantage every time he caught you thirty minutes before an audition? You were the only burden between him and that principal seat; he had to break you down somehow.
You walked into the warm-up room (or, a high school cafeteria) with a sigh, hard cello case heavy on your back. The place was too familiar; your auditions were held there almost every year. You knew the path to and from the cello audition room, the cold tile floor of the room (which was not your friend), and the same orchestra directors that volunteered every year. It was hard to forget them when they greeted you like a saint.
Picking your favorite corner of the cafeteria, you scoped the place for any familiar musicians. There was the violist girl that was the principal every year. Her prominent shoulder-rest mark on her neck showed how much she practiced. Then you saw one of your favorite cellists to play with, a girl named Maya that you got coffee with before your one morning rehearsal last year.
You checked your phone. Fourty minutes until your audition. You finally began unpacking your cello, sifting through your case for the rosin you preferred to use for auditions. The cafeteria seat was stiff and probably seconds away from breaking. You set yourself up to play and found your tuner, playing a few long bow strokes on your A-string.
“Yikes. So sharp.”
Sighing, you turned at the familiar voice. “Good thing I have a tuner in my hand.”
Keonho shot you an infuriating smile. He tilted his head. “Don’t you have perfect pitch? Could just tune on your own.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You scoffed, resting your bow upwards on your knee.
“My audition is in an hour. I’ve got time.” He shoved his hands in his pockets casually. He was far too relaxed for your liking, but you rarely saw him tense anyway. Only during extremely fast passages in rehearsals, or when you learned the reseating results. Every year, you watched his face drop when your name tag was placed on the principal chair. Every. Single. Year.
You adjusted yourself, turning away from him. Mostly because you couldn’t stand to make eye contact. How could you, when he looked so sure of himself? When he looked more determined than ever to take your place? “Tryhard.” You mumbled.
“Sure, you could say that. Or you could say i’m trying very hard to take you down.” He shrugged, pausing to find a crack in your expression. When there was none, he gave you a fake smile. “Well, good luck.”
You looked back up to watch him walk away, briefly making eye contact when he turned back to look at you one more time. The unreadable look in his eyes made your stomach stir. Keonho knew exactly how to make orchestra seem like a survival show, and you felt like you were getting eliminated very soon.
thought you and i might have everything it’s easier pretending you have angel wings 🪽 idol!martin x fem!reader , in which you notice that the two of you are drifting apart track by : madison beer wc : 0.8k !
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‘dating an idol is fun’ they say.
it was fun. you couldn’t deny that. but fun doesn’t last forever — that was the realisation you had come to.
it was a fever dream. your boyfriend, the very boy you spent your days with, the boy you thought you would spend forever with, became a singer. martin sought his dreams out, accomplished them. and for that, you were proud.
but it meant change.
you didn’t like change, but you learned to make do. after all, you didn’t have much of a choice.
it happened slowly. the distance. and it only seemed to grow as time went by.
little things — that’s how it started. those daily night calls? they became weekly. and you noticed, of course you noticed ; how martin seemed to become disinterested in them. his eyes on the screen, but it always seemed like he’d be staring past you. like there was something after you, like you were an obstacle — like you weren’t someone important, but now just something in his way.
but you glossed over it. ‘he must be tired’, ‘training probably ran through’, ‘he’s just busy’. you reassured yourself with countless excuses, making up for his latecomings.
and then texts became less frequent, and more dry. from messages like ‘how were your classes? i miss you, like crazy bad’ to ‘i’m fine’ and ‘imyt’.
from giving and taking, it was just you giving, and him taking.
but you tried to not let it get to you. you were still a girl with her boyfriend. her boyfriend who was now plastered all around world. but he was still, your boyfriend — your martin. right?
martin rain checked, a lot. yeah, he was busy — he had an actual job where he could hardly catch a break. but sometimes he didn’t even bother letting you know, or probably just forgot about the date itself. you can’t recall the last time he hadn’t stood you up.
it was getting to a point. you could no longer make up reasons for the changes. his changes. you guys weren’t just growing up, but growing apart. an hit hard. when family and friends would ask you how martin was, how he’s doing as an idol ; you’d be silent, because you didn’t know. in truth, you were now no longer different to them. you too wish you knew how martin was, to be able answer these questions.
you loved martin, truly. but you began to doubt that the feeling was still reciprocated. and so, you drifted away just as he did. you no longer sought him out.
there were no more good morning, goodnight texts, no more i love yous and no more late night calls. but couldn’t cut contact just yet. every now and then, you’d try text. to hold at least one conversation a week, no matter how awkward it felt.
but then he stopped replying overall. last weeks texts? still on delivered. those tiktoks you sent? all left on seen.
martin edwards had given up, now he was just waiting on you to do the same.
and so you did. but you were doing it officially — not silently backing out as he did. you texted him, the first time in a while : “can we meet? js for 10 mins max.”
he couldn’t say no to that. so he agreed to meet you tonight, at the park.
you sat on a swing, looking down at your feet. it was dark, and quiet. a moment one could describe as peaceful. but in such a situation, you weren’t able to find solace.
slow steps made their way to you, leaves crunching under the soles of trainers.
“hey..” you raised your head. martin.
of course, he was covered up. baggy jeans and a hoodie of a deep shade thrown on, a face mask hanging just off his ear.
you swallowed hard. this was it. “…hi,”
he hesitated before taking a seat in the swing beside you. “you wanted to talk?” he spoke up, his gaze ahead — never on you.
“mhm,” you didn’t know how to say it. but you had a feeling he already knew what you were going to say. you took a moment, contemplating. was this really happening? were you actually going to break up with him? was your relationship of many years coming to an end?
yes, yes, and yes.
“i think..” you inhaled sharply “i think that we should end things.” you finally mustered up.
neither of you looked at each other, sitting in silence for a couple seconds.
“okay..” he agreed. that was what hurt. he didn’t question anything, he didn’t argue and he didn’t apologise. he merely agreed with a simple ‘okay’.
you nodded back, slowly. and then he got up, not a word leaving his lips, as he made his way out — his back to you.
you watched him walk away. and you didn’t try fight it this time. you were done trying.
NOTES sigh i love breaking my own heart. now i get to break urs </3. pls listen to tearjerker, it’s beautifully nostalgic and was my complete inspiration for writing this!
suggested tracks: tearjerker by small forward, fallingforyou and medicine by the 1975
ONE
The first time Martin Edwards made you cry was when you were eight. Martin befriended you a year prior when you put the straw in his apple juice box for him (he was apparently too weak to do it). From that day forward, he knew you would be his best friend forever.
It was sweltering on the school playground. You hated the heat. Sweat glued your clothes to your body, the metal on the monkey bars burned your skin, and your ears grew a darker shade of red than your cheeks. Martin always teased you for that.
The chain on the swing was only slightly less hot than the monkey bars, so you convinced Martin to move to the swing set. It was always the same deal; he gave you twenty pushes, then you swapped and did the same for him.
“Thirteen…” he mumbled lazily. Martin hated the heat just as much as you did. His reasoning was that it always made him sleepy. And sleepy he was indeed. His mind kept drifting to the lego set waiting for him at home. Maybe he would take a nap before building it. Then there would be no time to wait for mom to be finished cooking dinner.
“Martin, slow down! You’re pushing me too high!” You said nervously, noticing how you quickly picked up altitude.
But Martin was in his own world. It was too easy for him to shut out the world. That was one thing that annoyed the heck out of you; he could just tune you out whenever he wanted to.
You skidded your feet against the mulch each time you got closer to the ground, but it hardly made any difference. Especially because your feet barely reached the ground. You tried one last time, your shoe digging a bit too hard into the ground.
Before you knew it, you were tumbling off of the swing. You caught your fall, your wrist twisting slightly as the mulch pricked at your hands.
A yelp in front of Martin brought him back to his senses. He was confused when he saw an empty swing in front of him; until he looked at the ground.
“What? Oh! Are you okay?” He rushed over to you in front of the swing, kneeling beside you.
Your eyes quickly welled with tears. “I told you to stop pushing!” You yelled.
Martin winced at your volume, quickly growing irritated. “Stop yelling at me! I didn’t hear you!”
“Well, thanks to you, I broke my wrist!” You held up your wrist that looked quite normal. Of course you believed it was broken, you didn’t escape the childhood dramatics that came with being in primary school.
Martin watched you cry as you picked mulch out of your skin. “I… i’m sorry.” He said, quieter this time. “I really didn’t hear you.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s go to the nurse.”
You sniffled as you looked up at him, taking his hand without hesitation. No matter how mad you might be at him, you would never hold the grudge. Perks of having the nicest boy in your grade as your best friend.
TWO
You were eleven when you knew you liked Martin. Double digits were the start of self-discovery and enlightenment, and you were being hit with exactly that. The issue was that boys didn’t exactly become enlightened this early. Therefore, Martin Edwards was clueless about his feelings.
It was infuriating, doing so many things for his attention but never earning it. Well, you always had his attention. But for the wrong reasons.
Martin never acknowledged your cheap perfume or sparkly lip gloss. He never asked you how girls acted. He didn’t even care about girls. He treated you like a boy and you hated it.
But you had a plan: Valentine’s Day was soon and neither of you had valentines. For all of the years you knew each other, you and Martin both hated Valentine’s Day. You grinned at people nervously putting candy in their crush’s cubby, or boys getting rejected at lunch when their friend asked out a girl for them. But this was sixth grade now. Everyone had a valentine, how could you not?
Three days before the fourteenth, you spritzed extra perfume and applied extra lip gloss. You had a heartfelt card ready with Martin’s favorite candy. Today, he would realize that you were a girl. You were different. You were pretty. You liked him.
Martin met you at the bus stop per usual. You sat on the sidewalk next to a stop sign, fiddling with the pink card you made by hand. You immediately sensed his presence and looked up to meet his eyes.
“Hi, Martin.” You smiled that bright, giddy smile you always gave him.
He met your eyes before his own dropped down to your smile. He didn’t know why, but his stomach was churning. Maybe the milk in his cereal was spoiled. And… was that lip gloss? His eyes traveled even further and landed on the card in your hand.
He squinted to read the cover. “A valentine’s card? I thought we hated Valentine’s Day.”
“You hate Valentine’s Day. I’m a changed woman.” You said confidently, rolling your shoulders back.
A fond smile crept onto his face. “Okay, changed woman. Who’s the guy?”
Your heart dropped. You hoped he would ignore the card and you didn’t have to actually give it to him. No. Be brave. This is your chance.
“Um… you.” You said as you stood to meet his height. Martin wasn’t much taller than you since you’d already gotten a growth spurt. But he was always weirdly tall for his age, so he had an inch or two on you.
He blinked a few times while you stood. “Huh?” He scratched his neck awkwardly. Why would he be your valentine? You were best friends.
“Will you be my valentine, Martin?” You said, shoving the card and candy towards him.
He tilted his head in confusion. “Like… as friends?” He took the gift from your hands carefully, brushing them in the process. He flinched at the electric shock you sent him.
His reaction instantly killed your confidence. Your stomach curled. Did he really believe you were asking him as friends? Could he possibly be that stupid? “Yes. Yeah, as friends. But—“ you quickly snatched the card from him, crumbling it in your hands. That pink paper said too much from your heart.
“Hey! What was that for?” He complained, watching you crumple the card in disbelief.
“I messed something up. It doesn’t look good.” You said quietly. You felt sick. “You know what, I think i’m just gonna stay home today. I don’t feel good.”
Martin frowned. “Oh. That’s weird, because my stomach started hurting as soon as I saw you. Must be a bug going around.”
You knelt to grab your backpack from the concrete, standing back up without looking at him. You refused to look into his eyes while tears rolled down your cheeks. “Yeah. Must be.” You sniffled.
If the bug was love, you sure hoped it would bite him soon.
THREE
When your parents warned you about middle school, you didn’t take them seriously. They said it would be rough, you’d gain and lose friends, you’d struggle to find your personality. For once, you were admitting that they were right.
You had to contort your personality to fit in with different cliques. Making friends with people from other primary schools was nearly impossible. By eighth grade, you gave up on finding new people. At least you still had Martin.
But Martin seemed like he’d never had easier years of his life. He fit in so well, found so many friends. He joined the basketball team and became every teacher’s favorite. Every girl liked him. Every girl. And he loved every bit of it. You? You hated it.
You watched him laugh with different girls every day. Every flash of his smile made your skin crawl. Every touch between a girl’s hand and his arm made you excuse yourself to the bathroom.
The worst part? Martin never noticed how insane it drove you. He would make eye contact with you from across the cafeteria while his team was on one side of him, a random fangirl on the other. He’d shoot you a genuine smile, as if life was perfect and dandy. You’d force a smile, pretending to be happy that he was fitting in. He was never able to distinguish your forced smile from your real one. But it was strange, because he used to pick it up in an instant.
There were small moments that convinced you that Martin was still your best friend. Like when he’d give you your favorite snacks from the convenience store without asking. Or when he’d always keep his jacket above your head when you walked home in the rain.
There were big moments like the spring dance that made you realize the small ones weren’t enough.
The spring dance was supposed to be a celebration. You survived the hardest part of grade school and you were almost in high school. You were actually excited for the dance; you had a pretty dress, a hairstyle planned, and you assumed you were going with Martin.
A week before the dance, you brought up the topic while Martin sat on your bed, staring laser-eyed at his geometry homework. “I was thinking, would it be too tacky if you wore a tie that matched my dress? Too couple-y? I mean, we did that at our elementary dances.”
Martin looked up at you, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?”
Your shoulders slumped. “The spring dance that happens to be next week? We haven’t talked about outfits.”
He set his pencil down, bringing his full attention to you. That only ever happened when he was at your house. “Oh, well i’m wearing a navy tie. I think it’s kinda stupid to wear a tie to a middle school dance, but my mom is forcing me to.”
You shifted your weight to face him a little more. “Well, my dress is green. Can’t you find a green tie?”
Martin sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Minji’s dress is navy. I’m going with Minji.”
You choked on your breath, sputtering. “Minji? Are you serious?” You stood up from your bed to stand in front of him. “I think you forgot to tell me you were going with her.”
He scoffed. “Do I need to? It’s just some dance. It’s not like it’s prom.”
“Well, don’t you think your best friend should know who you’re going to a dance with? I thought we were going together, Martin! We always do!” You said shakily, lip quivering.
“That was elementary school! We’re— hold on, are you crying?” He stood up, slightly towering over you. His face finally had the care you’d been looking for for two years.
“No. Don’t change the topic.” You wiped a tear from your face roughly. “Why couldn’t you tell me that you had a date?”
“Because—“ Martin groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. “Because I knew you’d react like this.”
“Excuse me?” You raised your voice, clenching your fists.
Martin shushed you with wide eyes. “Hey, keep it down!” He whisper-yelled.
“No! You don’t get to tell me what to do and I have no reason to listen to you!”
“Stop that. You’re acting like a kid.” A hint of desperation crept into his voice.
“I’m acting like a kid?” You pointed an accusing finger at his chest. “You have the mindset of a kid! You act like you were born yesterday. You notice nothing important. You just run around the school like everything is perfect.”
“You sound jealous.” He said through gritted teeth.
You brought your hand down to cross your arms. “Wouldn’t anyone be jealous seeing their best friend live a life where they’re forgotten? When they’re suffering and their best friend doesn’t even notice?”
Martin’s face hardened even further. “I can’t believe you’re acting like this.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You used to be so… chill. Normal. Now you get all weird on me. It’s been that way since sixth grade.”
You gave him a blank look. He was so close to realizing the truth, finally seeing how you felt for him. Maybe he would grow out of his stupidity.
He bent to gather his homework on your bed, not breaking the silence.
“What are you doing?” You said quietly. Almost like a petrified animal.
“Giving you space to figure out… whatever this is.”
You didn’t respond. You simply watched him go, listened to him say goodbye to your mother as he left your house.
The night of the dance, you questioned why the hell you were even going. Maybe because your mother told you that you looked beautiful. Or maybe because there was a small hope that you would get the chance to revive your friendship with Martin.
For a good bit of the night, you stayed close to your one good friend other than Martin. You were actually having fun. The upbeat music and blinding lights temporarily distracted you from your troubles. Key word: temporarily.
Because your mind fell right back into its hole when the slow music started. Your friend got pulled away by the boy she liked, leaving you alone in the middle of the sea of couples on the dance floor. You eventually escaped after pushing through them, finding a bench far from the crowd.
After a moment, your eyes landed on Martin for the first time that night. His hair was slicked back: he hated slick-backs. Hints of navy popped out on his tie when the lights hit him in the right way. Your eyes fell over to the girl in the navy dress with her arms wrapped around his neck. That sting in your eyes greeted you with familiarity.
The sound of a clearing throat broke your eyes away from the duo. You looked up to see a boy standing in front of you. He wore a green tie that almost matched the emerald of your dress. When you met his eyes, you gave him a weak smile.
“Hi.” He said, having to raise his voice to speak over the music. It was Juhoon, the boy you were often paired with in biology class. You never spoke to him outside of class, but you thought he was nice.
“Hey.” You sat up from your unflattering posture.
“May I ask why you’re the only girl in this gymnasium without a dance partner?” He questioned. Something about the way he said it was actually charming.
“I don’t know. May I ask why you’re the only boy in this gymnasium without a dance partner?” You teased him back. You instantly felt lighter.
Juhoon gave you a wide smile. “I don’t know. Fate?”
You felt your face flush. Within seconds, he had you on the dance floor. Your hands fell to his shoulders while his ended up on your waist. A curse fell from your lips when you stepped on his shoe. “Sorry. I’ve never done this before.” You whispered bashfully.
He bent down to whisper into your ear. “It’s alright, I have no idea what i’m doing.”
You grinned at his honesty. For some reason, this boy already had your heart racing. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment. Or maybe you were finally moving on.
Martin wasn’t having as much fun as he hoped. He hated his slick-back hair, he was sweating through his dress shirt, and Minji was obnoxiously clingy. Not to mention that her proximity only emphasized her perfume that smelled like roses and moth balls. He felt like he was on a date with his grandmother.
He also hadn’t seen you all night, but maybe that was a good thing, because if he did? He would vomit on the spot. Or on Minji’s dress.
His luck didn’t last very long. At the end of the slow song, his sweaty hands still played on Minji’s waist, he spotted you. You weren’t alone. No, you were in Juhoon’s arms. He squinted to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. This couldn’t be real.
Since when did you like boys? Since when did you like Juhoon? He’d never seen you two talk. Martin stared at your side profile for way too long before Minji’s voice brought him back.
“Hello? What are you staring at? I’m right here.” She said, quickly growing irritated. Her grating voice nearly made him flinch.
“Uh… nothing.” He stuttered.
“Really? Because it seems like you’re staring holes into that girl and her boyfriend’s heads.”
Martin froze, causing Minji to stumble on his foot and curse at him. Her irritation was the least of his worries at this point.
He looked her in the eye, his face adopting an unsettling look he only had when he would ruin a lego set he built for hours. “Boyfriend? What are you talking about. She’s not dating anyone. She’s never… she’s never dated anyone. She doesn’t do that.”
There was a brief silence in the gym before the next song played: Mr. Brightside by The Killers. Some boys cheered while their girlfriends groaned and walked away. Martin just felt the pit in his stomach triple in size.
“You seem to know a lot about her.” Minji yelled over the music and loud students.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. Martin rarely got shaky hands, but he was sure they resembled an 8.9 magnitude earthquake. “She’s my best friend. Or… i think.”
“You think? How does that work, Edwards? She’s either your best friend or she’s not.”
Martin set his eyes on you again. Juhoon was whispering into your ear, probably some stupid compliment that was the bare-minimum. Then you giggled.
You giggled. A real smile blessed your lips, one that showed off just the right amount of your perfect teeth. Not too many, because you were shy and aware of your facial expressions. You always gave him that smile.
Now Juhoon got it. And he was smiling back, looking at you like you hung the moon. And the lights were hitting your features in the best way possible and showed off Martin’s favorite birthmark of yours. And you were wearing that green dress that complimented your skin so well and oh shit— he was in deep.
And Juhoon was leaning in, definitely not looking at your eyes, but somewhere lower—
“Fuck.” Martin spit harshly, breaking free from Minji’s wrath. He pushed through dancing boys and sappy couples that cursed at him. He felt sweat drip from his forehead to his lips, the salty kick not even phasing him. He had to fix this before he lost you forever. Finally, he reached you.
“Yn—“ He paused, doubling over to catch his breath. He looked back up to look you in the eye, only to realize that he was definitely not talking to you. Just some random girl in a green dress that was peacefully dancing with her boyfriend.
“Oh, her? She’s over there kissing some guy.” The girl pointed in your direction.
His heart dropped. Or maybe it stopped. Maybe he was dead, and this was all over, and he was happy.
He was too late. You were gone, swept up by some guy that didn’t know you. He didn’t know your favorite timestamp of yours favorite movie, or your favorite frozen yogurt topping that takes up majority of the yogurt’s weight. Hell, he didn’t even know you had a best friend, who happened to be fucking devastated at the sight of you with someone else.
Still, he ran to you. He wouldn’t give you up; not yet. He just had no idea what to say when he reached you.
“Stop! Stop!” He yelled, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Surrounding students gave him strange looks, wondering why the star basketball player was screaming at a couple at the spring dance.
You quickly pulled away from Juhoon at the sound of a panicked voice only you could recognize as Martin’s.
“Martin? What—“
“Don’t do this,” he panted, “don’t be with him. No offense.” He put up an apologetic hand at Juhoon when he shot him and puzzled look.
You stared at him in utter confusion before a hint of anger flashed through your eyes. “I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m pretty sure you can’t tell me who I can and can’t date. I didn’t tell you to dump Minji, did I?”
God, he even loved you when you were scolding him. Shit. He loved you.
“I’m not dating Minji. She’s annoying as hell, please don’t get it twisted.” He let out a bitter laugh, but stopped when he met your cold eyes. He froze under your gaze. He didn’t exactly rehearse this far. “Can we go somewhere private?” He finally spat out.
You gave Juhoon an apologetic look before sighing. “Fine. Make it quick.”
Martin let out a breath of relief. “It wont be. Sorry.” He took your hand urgently and pulled you through the crowd, finding an empty hallway. It was eerily dark.
“What is this about? You think you can just ghost me for a week, then decide to dictate me when you see me kissing someone? You’re not my dad, you don’t get to—“
“I love you.” He cut you off shortly.
Your words caught in your throat. His words were nowhere near processed in your brain. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I love you. I think I always have. No; I know. Since elementary. My heart gets this warm feeling around you that I don’t feel with anyone else. And that Valentine’s Day I had a stomachache? I went to school and threw up because you looked so pretty with your lipgloss and my pretty best friend with the pretty lip gloss asked me to be her valentine.”
You gave him his favorite, true laugh that always had his stomach flipping. “TMI?”
Martin smiled slowly, his shoulders relaxing. Okay, so you didn’t hate him. “Yeah, maybe. But can you uh.. think about what I said?”
“Oh, I am.” You gave him a cheesy smile. “And I think you’re stupid.”
He frowned, scratching his neck awkwardly. “You do?”
“Yes. Because I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, and you were too dumb to see it. So you stressed yourself out and threw up and became a jock because you thought this was one sided.” You punched his arm playfully.
He looked at you with a dazed look in his eyes, rubbing the spot on his arm where you punched him. “Holy shit.” He huffed. “I would kiss you, but you’ve got some guy’s germs on your lips.”
You grinned. “Don’t worry, we didn’t actually kiss yet. You got lucky.”
His eyes widened like he’d just hit the jackpot at a casino. If this was what gambling felt like, he’d for sure be an addict. “Oh? Well in that case…”
Martin gently pulled you closer by your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. He should’ve been worried about his heart beating out of his chest, but he felt like nothing could go wrong in that moment. He felt himself leaning in and he swore you were too.
Well, you must’ve been, because your lips met with a little surprised jolt from him. This was actually happening. His first kiss was happening with you, like he’d hoped so many times.
One of your hands left his to cup his cheek and find a deeper angle that let you really pour in your emotions. There were far too many pent-up feelings that you believed would kill you if you waited another day.
Martin kissed you like you were one of his mom’s chinas. She always yelled at him to never touch them, and right now he felt like the world would scold him for breaking you.
It hurt him to pull away, but he was quite literally out of breath. He met your eyes as you both fought for breath. “I’ve been wishing for that every time I’ve blown out my birthday candles.”
You giggled, leaning in one last time to peck his cheek. “Dork.”
FOUR
By the time your sixteenth birthday came around, you and Martin were already dating for two years. Time flew by so fast that it scared you: you felt like it was just yesterday when you were fretting over his middle school fangirls. You’d been through so much together— starting high school, making new friends, dealing with annoying hormones.
Which made Martin sure that he was serious about you. You two had gone so long loving each other, it was impossible to stop anytime soon. He just needed some physical manifestation of his love that told you he was in this for life. With your upcoming birthday in mind, he had the perfect idea: a piece of jewelry. A ring? Earrings? A necklace? He’d have to figure that out.
And Martin was determined. So after unfortunately turning down your offer to hang out, he took time to himself on a Saturday. He did online research before going out so that he wouldn’t disappoint himself. He made a list of stores and ordered them from most to least important so that he had time for all of the good ones. This was a real mission.
When he reached the first one, he already had a pair of earrings in mind. Your birthstone, not too short but not too dangly. Those earrings were nowhere to be found in the cases. He desperately sought out a worker.
“Excuse me? Hi. Do you have another pair of these earrings here?” He held up a photo on his phone.
The worker sighed. “I’m afraid we just sold them an hour ago. Lovely old man was buying a birthday gift for his wife.”
Martin huffed. “Well, I’m trying to find a birthday gift for my future wife.”
“I’m sorry, kid. Try another store.”
And so he did. And he had no luck with the next two stores. One hadn’t updated its website for three months and had inaccurate stock information, and the other didn’t even exist anymore.
The day was running away quickly, he realized when he checked his watch. His last hope was a store that was lower on the list of importance. Maybe he would get lucky with this one.
He found the last store and walked in, immediately getting slammed by cool air conditioning, strong teakwood cologne, and the scent of some polish. He glanced through the casing, physically shaking his head every time he pictured giving something to you. Nothing felt right, nothing felt like you.
Not until his eyes landed on something that sparkled beneath the spotlight above the case. It shone so brightly even under dim light. A gold necklace with a star as a charm, specifically the north star, signaled by the elongated top and bottom points. His eyes widened in awe, his nose nearly smearing on the glass before he realized his proximity.
One of the workers caught his lovestruck stare behind the counter. “Like what you see?”
Martin’s head snapped up. He flushed in embarrassment. “Er… yeah. It’s beautiful.” He fumbled with the zipper on his denim jacket.
“We always have customers love it, but they never fall in love with it. Always another piece of jewelry they love more.” The worker sighed as if they empathized with the necklace. Sounded like a personal experience.
“No, I think this is the one. I mean— it’s not for me. It’s for my girlfriend, but it’s perfect.” He said, chewing his lip.
“Did you get that feeling you feel every time you see her?”
He furrowed his brows. “Huh? It’s a necklace, why would I—“
“Did you?”
Martin paused. He thought back to that giddy feeling in his stomach every time he caught you in the hallway at school. The overwhelming warmth in his chest when you were in his arms or when he kissed you. The feeling never dwindled away no matter how long you’d been together. Then he went to the moment he saw that necklace— it shone just as bright as you. It screamed you.
“Oh. I think I did.”
The worker gave him a wide smile. “It’s yours, kid.”
He left the store in ecstatics. This was the perfect gift, the perfect symbol of your relationship. Hell, you might even cry when you see it. And you hardly ever cried.
On your sixteenth birthday, Martin helped your family throw a surprise party. The look on your face when the lights flickered on and your mother approached you with your cake made him fall in love with you all over again. Yeah, he was certain about you.
After he got to smear icing on your face and look through your childhood photos with your family, you two finally had enough privacy for him to give you your last gift. He pulled you into your room, setting you down on your bed with your eyes shut.
“Okay, one sec. Don’t open them!” He grinned when he saw your eye twitch.
“It wasn’t on purpose! I’ve had my eyes shut for minutes now.” You said through a fit of giggles.
His heart fluttered at your laugh before he quickly shook his head to get in the zone. He pulled a flat, square box out of his pocket and opened up your hands, placing it delicately. “Okay. Open.”
Once you felt the velvety box in your hand, your heart jumped. You opened your eyes at his command and looked down at the box. “Hmm, I wonder what lies in this box.” You teased, unable to fight the cheesy grin that spread across your face.
You cracked open the box, gasping softly when you eyed the real gift inside. You removed it carefully, holding it up to the light in your room. A gold necklace with a north star charm.
“Martin…” You whispered shakily.
He looked down at his shoes shyly. “I figured it really symbolized us. We’re each other’s north star, but you’re especially mine. I mean, I did need you to knock sense into me for me to finally realize my feelings for you.”
You laughed at his self-deprecation. You were his north star. Yeah, you were definitely in love with this man. “It’s beautiful. The necklace and the meaning. Thank you so much.” Your voice broke in the middle of the sentence.
He looked at you with the most awestruck smile. He still couldn’t believe that you were his, after all these years. “Here, let me put it on you.” He took the necklace from you slowly, sitting behind you on your bed.
Martin moved your hair away from your neck carefully, his fingers brushing against your skin. He brought the necklace to your neck from behind, clasping it with ease. His breath against your ear made you shiver.
He stood back up and instead crouched in front of your sitting figure, eyes going straight to the necklace. “It looks beautiful on you.” He whispered, resting his hand on your neck and rubbing the charm with his thumb. When he met your eyes, he frowned.
“Baby, are you crying?” His hands slid up to cup your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his thumb.
You were indeed crying, and the soft look in his eyes only made it worse. You nodded with a pathetic sniffle. “I didn’t mean to. It just kinda… happened. You’re just so nice.”
Martin laughed that childish, uncontrollable laugh he never lost. He wasn’t exactly laughing at you crying, more so at how cute you were. “Well, I try my best.” He teased.
You rolled your eyes, wiping your face with the sleeve of one of his hoodies you smuggled. “Don’t be a smartass while your girlfriend is pouring her heart out to you.”
“Sorry, love.” He smiled fondly, shifting his weight to kiss your forehead.
He always knew just how to make you shy, even after two years of being together. You rubbed your forehead while in a daze. “Man, I’m gonna be really mad if you don’t marry me.”
Martin grinned at your unexpected comment. At least he knew he wasn’t the only one already thinking about your future. “You have nothing to worry about.”
You shot him a playful glare. “Better not, or you’ll be catching these hands.”
He shut you up with a gentle peck on your lips. “Whatever you say, baby.”
FIVE
You knew Martin would never lie to you. That’s why you didn’t question him when he grew distant. It was senior year, you were both stressed: you expected a short rough patch. It’s just that this rough patch was longer than you expected.
Long as in, he started acting weird in January and it was now April and he was still dodging your hangouts. Greeting you shortly at school. Distancing himself from your friend group. You always reminded him that he could talk to you about anything; he always reminded you that he knew.
Still, you held on to the hope that you would get through this. It had been three years, what could really go wrong now? A future with each other was implied, so you had no worries. Not until now.
Not until Martin came to your doorstep unannounced. Well, that wasn’t the issue: it happened all the time. He practically lived here now. He had a toothbrush in your bathroom, clothes in your closet, favorite utensils and dishes in your kitchen that were saved for him.
The issue was the look on his face. Grim, droopy eyelids, bright smile missing.
“Martin? What is it?” You said, your stomach already forming itself into a black hole.
“I need to talk to you.” He spoke quietly. His loud, chaotic energy was gone. The energy that immediately brightened every room he stepped into. Instead, your house felt darker when he stepped into it.
He followed you to your room, the path all-too-familiar from the past ten years of having your house as a second home. He immediately sat on your bed when he reached your room, leaving space between the two of you as you sat.
“Why are you so far?” You scooted closer to him, reaching for his hand. “It’s like you’re allergic to me lately.”
“I’m not.” He said quickly. Not dismissive, just… insecure. He sighed harshly, rubbing his face with so much force it was red when he reemerged. “Fuck. I can’t.”
“You can talk to me.” You whispered at an attempt to be comforting. It was difficult when you felt like vomiting. You knew something was terribly wrong.
Martin swallowed audibly before he spoke. “I got in.”
You squinted in confusion before the realization hit you. With senior year coming to a close, you already had your serious talk about university. Martin’s university had the best music program, but it was a thousand miles away. He didn’t expect to get in, so he didn’t worry about long distance.
“Oh.” You whispered.
“Yeah.” He paused, not daring to break the thin line of tension in the room.
But you did. “So are you… going?”
He breathed shakily. “Yeah.”
Alright, now it was your turn to go mute. Because what the hell did he mean, he was going to school a thousand miles away from you? That you would go months without seeing each other? That his schedule would be so packed, he would hardly talk to you? Worst of all, you knew he knew all along.
“Listen…” he started.
“Why did you wait to tell me? Did you think pushing me away would make it magically bearable?” You cut him off, words cutting like a knife.
Martin fiddled with his hoodie’s drawstrings. How could he explain himself without crying, or yelling, or both? “Nothing would have been easier. Either I hurt you immediately, or I wait and hurt you anyway.”
“You hurt me worse by drifting away from me. It’s easier to hurt when I have you by my side.” You knew how this would end. It was like trying to persuade a brick wall.
“I couldn’t get more attached to you when I knew I would lose you soon. I couldn’t sit and do all of these senior celebrations and hangouts like everything was okay. Like I would just see you every day after graduation.” He spoke weakly. A slow tear fell from his chin, staining the light fabric of his hoodie.
You shook your head in confusion, trying to reel your head around his words. “What do you mean, ‘lose me’? I’m not dying.”
“I can’t do long distance. I can’t know that you’re mine, but know that I can’t even come home to you. I can’t feel you whenever I want to.” He felt his throat closing with each word that left it.
“So you’re just giving up?! Just like that?” You raised your voice, standing from your bed.
Martin looked up at you hopelessly. This was too similar to your last serious argument when you two were still just best friends. He felt no comfort at the fact that this would be your last argument, him staring up at you while you lost your patience with him.
“I don’t want to, but I just can’t take it. It’s my fault that I grew so attached to you.” His lip quivered as he fought with his last bit of strength.
“But that’s normal! You’re my fucking boyfriend, Martin!” You choked on the first sob that escaped you since this hell began. You bit your hand, pacing in front of your bed.
He couldn’t stand watching you like this. This was his fault: he dwindled you down to a panicking, angry mess. He pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes to push back tears.
“You’re not serious. You’re just messing with me. It’s part of the senior prank.” You laughed bitterly. You knew it sounded ridiculous out loud, but denial was the only feeling that reeled you in.
“It’s not. Please, just think about it. You can’t seriously be happy dating someone a thousand miles away.”
You paused in your pacing, stopping in front of him. “Stop talking like you’re some guy I started dating three months ago! We’ve been dating for three years, Martin! Three damn years!” You paused to catch your breath as you choked on tears. “And you’ve been my best friend for even longer. How could I lose my best friend?”
He broke at that. He covered up a sob with a cough, taking a moment before speaking. “I’m so sorry.”
You finally let your sobs rip through you fully, the sounds echoing through your room. Martin watched you and sensed that you would eventually lose your footing. He pulled you by the hand and let you fall onto your bed beside him.
He lost track of how much time he spent running his hands through your hair, listening to your weak sobs. It hurt like hell to see you like this, but he wanted to cherish every last moment he had while you were still his.
He finally shifted to lie beside you, long limbs engulfing you entirely. He needed to hold you one last time. Fall asleep with you in his arms like everything was normal and okay.
Martin leaned in to kiss your forehead, staying there a moment to memorize your scent for the final time. His hand traveled to your neck until he found the charm on the necklace he gave you last year. “Promise me you’ll always be my north star. You’ll let me find you again.” He whispered. He shut his eyes when he felt you nod.
𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ✿ he’s obsessed with your lipgloss 𝟏𝟎𝟓 bf!seonghyeon x fem!reader, he loves your cherry lips ☁︎ fluff, skinship, kissing, petnames, flirting, playful teasing … ᥬᩤ 𝐑𝐈𝐑𝐈’𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 🍒
RIRI’S NOTES SHE’S BACKKKKKKKK!!! riri comeback how we feelin? feeling great icl but school will kick my butt BUT THATS OKAY CAUSE I HAVE YOU GUYS WOO!! i have been wanting to post this for so long so ummm hope you like! tryna get my flowstate back hehe! anywho, hugs and kisses!
seonghyeon was beyond obsessed. so far beyond you couldn’t find a word for it. your lipgloss is one of your favourite things in the whole world, and clearly seonghyeon loves it more than you do.
every time you’re together, his eyes never stay away from your lips. like literally never. every time he sees that familiar shine on your lips he already knows which gloss it is. your cherry lipgloss.
you don’t know why he likes it so much. you really don’t. every time he sees your lips glisten he kisses you. and whenever it’s not your signature cherry, he gets all pouty and does not want you to kiss him. he acts like a child over a lipgloss flavour.
it’s not even healthy to be consuming lipgloss but because it’s ‘so life changing’ seonghyeon just can’t help himself. he’ll be all over you, forcing you to make those glossy red kiss marks on his face but also to let him kiss all of it off your lips.
today was no different.
“baby.” he breathed out as he pulled away, a hint of a pout on his lips. you saw this coming. you decided to be a big tease and not wear your cherry lipgloss but your strawberry instead just to trick him.
“what, hyeon?” you asked innocently, fighting off the grin that twitched at the corners of your lips. his frown deepened, his arms crossing. “you know what.” he mumbled, his voice small and whiny like the same of a toddler.
“i don’t. enlighten me.” he huffed, his lower lip jutting out even more. “you’re wearing flipping strawberry lipgloss, baby. it tastes horrid!” he uncrossed his arms, shoving his fists into his pillow like it was the reason for this. you stifled a laugh, placing a hand over your lips.
he wasn’t lying though. you’ve accidentally licked it off your lips before and it tastes like candy death. “stop laughing, it’s not funny. i don’t want your kisses anymore.” he turned away, side-eyeing you. you cackled, messing with his hair. “you’re not even supposed to be eating lipgloss, hyeon.”
“i don’t care, baby, it’s life changing.” he whined, hitting the pillow again. you had already timed his words in your head. you shook your head, clutching your stomach from all the laughing.
you took out your cherry lipgloss from your pocket, putting it on. you watched seonghyeon’s eyes light up so much happiness you wouldn’t have thought that he was throwing a tantrum a few seconds ago.
“cherry lipgloss? kiss me right now, baby.” he said, sounding more like a plea than a command. you giggled, flashing him that adorable smile he just couldn’t resist. in an instant, his lips were on yours, his arms never hesitating to pull you closer.
you giggled again, wrapping your arms around his neck. he smiled against your lips, his thumb drawing circles on your hip bones through the fabric of your pants. then, when your lungs burned, you pulled away, your eyes sparkling with mischief and love of course.
“don’t tease me like that, i will always love your cherry lipgloss!” he said, licking his lips to prove a point. you laughed again, burying your head in his chest. “you’re so cute, hyeon.” you gushed, your voice muffled. seonghyeon smiled, patting your head.
❦ SYNOPSIS — in which your boyfriend gets close to the new girl, Jieun, while leaving you behind or in which you won’t sit around and let your bf put you in the shadows for the new girl.
genre: smau , angst | paring: juhoon x fem!reader
warnings: juhoon is a little gaslighty tbf, swearing, cheating if you squint and tilt your head, lmk if i miss anything
lanis little letters: updating white keys tonight but i was going through my masterlist and realized my page is lacking juhoon work so allow me to make up for it — tags + requests open enjoy tho <3
KIM JUHOON × FEM!READER ──── fluff, humor ⋆ 🌙 ˚₊‧ brother's best friend!juhoon, younger brother!keonho ｀𐙚 ︵ 인연 𓈒 your brother should’ve known you have a thing for basketball players before asking for a favor near one 😛
( DISCLAIMER. ) blurred photos sent from reader are meant to communicate body language, and not meant to invalidate any race, body type, or expression.
(💭) you guys DONT KNOW how many peak edits I've come across of juhoon since part one 😛😛😛😛 no I'm not sharing #gatekeeping find your own 😹😹😹 more parts soon 💯💯💯💯💯💯 #NEEDTHAAAAATTTTTT
jonny, did you ever love me? | part one | two | three
synopsis : where your ex boyfriend tries to win you back after being taunted by the thought of you and how things ended between the two of you. (does it work though?)
pairing : ex! martin x fem reader
includes : small smau series, ex lovers trope, reader lowk don’t gaf😭 (for now..), poor humor, martin getting teased by the others, small cameos from some ppl ;3, downbad ex martin (he js want that back bad yo), swearing, spelling errors (ignore pls 💔💔)
— AKA: coworker!seonghyeon and his trials & tribulations | fluff
…warning: contains swearing, kms joke, slightly suggestive ??, basically them bullying seonghyeon 😭 [>: HIII!! i'm back w/ a new series !! i have a lot of fun ideas for this one & it might include some writings in later parts depending on where i decide to go. i hope u all enjoyyy :<]✱
SYNOPSIS — in which you decide to rate your ex-boyfriends because you were bored
parings: ex-bf!CORTIS x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, martin is THE toxic ex sorry, mentions of cheating, lmk if i miss anything ! (jiyu was used as a face claim but it’s not relevant to the plot)
lanis little letters: taking a small break from white keys and doing requests + small drabbles for a bit. taglist and requests open !
