IN WHICH — you spend your whole life capturing everyone else, and Seonghyeon decides it’s his turn to capture you.
NOTES / 메모 — (cortis) Seonghyeon x photographer!reader. fluff. slight profanities. established relationship. I recommend listening to this. not proofread. wc: 1193 !
YOUR MIND SEEMED TO ALWAYS work better at night.
It wasn’t intentional—your best performance just happens to show up past midnight, when everything was slow, dim, simply when nobody demanded anything from you.
Your laptop was open in front of you, Lightroom loaded, fingers a bit numb from scrolling through the trackpad for hours, and the small desk lamp being the only light left on in the room. You were still in the middle of sorting your shots—the same excuse you told yourself that you’d wrap up by midnight, now long gone.
Your eyes flickered towards the time on the screen, exhaling softly as you read it. 1:17, it said. You were pretty much in a good flow with your work, but you also couldn’t deny the drowsiness that crept into the corners of your eyes, somewhat pestering you to just sleep.
Although you might’ve been thinking a bit too hard as you felt a slow, lazy sort of warmth slide over your shoulders, making you slightly freeze.
With the workload you were facing, you had completely forgotten the presence of your boyfriend, Seonghyeon, who had been slumbering on the bed behind you.
You felt your shoulders slump slowly as you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, sighing gently, melting into his touch. Instinctively, you brought a hand up to his hair, your fingers gently combing through it.
“Sorry.” you muttered softly. “Did I wake you?”
He shook his head at this, his chin now resting on your shoulder. “You didn’t.” he says, voice still groggy from sleep. “The bed just felt a bit cold.”
You blinked, a small smile tugging on your lips, fingers still tangled in his hair. “I’ll be done in a bit.”
He hummed at this, head turning to press a lazy kiss into your hair before leaning forward a bit, eyes trying to adjust to the screen glow, before asking. “What are you working on?”
“Just sorting selects,” you murmured, swiftly scrolling through the files in your screen. “I have to pick twelve shots for the zine layout.”
For a second, Seonghyeon was quiet, his eyes watching your screen flip through a set of photos, scheming through them with ease. Until he spoke up again.
“Can I have a look?” he says, almost a whisper.
Without a word, you slid your chair back two inches so he could see your screen clearly. He leaned in, head close enough that you feel the warm weight of his breath over your cheek.
He scrolls slowly, letting his eyes wander through the screen with each click.
There were hundreds of photographs: mostly pictures of public figures you recently worked with, some random view, stolen shots of people walking, and of course, a few with Seonghyeon inframe.
All taken by you.
Though in the midst of scrolling, he notices something before you do. You saw it, the way a small frown formed on his face as kept scrolling, and scrolling. You didn’t bother questioning him though, thinking he just needed to get back in bed.
Though after another minute, he finally said it.
“You’re not in any of these.”
You blinked, looking at the screen and back at him. Your eyebrows furrowed in a way similar to his, as if you were mirroring his confusion.
“What?”
“You’re never in your own shots.” he clarified, like he was confirming it for himself. “Like ever.”
A soft smile pulled on your lips, breathing out a small laugh. It was normal for Seonghyeon to comment on your work every now and then, you’d always ask for his input anyway, but for him to suddenly question you about something like this—you weren’t quite used to it.
“I mean,” you began, shoulders raising to a shrug, turning to look back at him. “I am the one behind the camera.”
He loosened his hold on your touchpad, just enough to tilt his head and look at you properly.
“I know that,” he says quietly. “But still.”
You knew he wasn’t upset, he could never. Whatever he was trying to imply, you knew he meant it in all good ways—and honestly, you found it amusing that he was the first to point something out: That you were barely on your own work.
You stared at him for a bit, taking in the curiosity he was letting out. Normally, you’d laugh at him for saying such things, but the way he seemed genuinely interested in an answer, that did something to you deep down.
“Does it bother you?” you ask.
“Not really,” he admits. “I just find it.. odd,” he adds, although something in him knows that it was true— it does bug a part of his brain.
You hum at this, nodding slowly. “Odd how?”
He blew a sigh, shrugging. “You have the talent.” he points out like it was nothing. “I just find it weird how you barely have pictures of yourself.”
You turned back to your screen, as if what he said didn’t make your breath hitch. “I just like capturing things.” you said softly. “That feels enough for me.”
As you said this, he went silent—long enough to make you assume he’d finally let it go. But then you felt his arms slip off you, slow and warm, not abrupt, and with no warning, he stepped away.
This made you turn his way, twisting your chair just in time to see him cross the room towards your shelves in the corner. You raise your brow at this, watching the way he picks up one of your spare cameras, swiftly checking the battery, even twisting the lens—all in smooth, practiced motions that look very unlike someone who doesn’t know anything about photography.
“What are you doing?” you ask, confusion growing as seconds pass.
Seonghyeon glances at you over his shoulder, but doesn't respond, his eyes a little too awake for someone who was literally snoozing five minutes ago.
Wordlessly, he turned towards you, raising the camera that pointed right towards you. You freeze, finally taking the hint of what he wants. And in a panicky tone, you spoke up.
“Seonghyeon, I’m literally in the middle of—“
“Please,” he cuts in. The eagerness in his voice enough to soften the room. He steps closer, camera still resting in his hands but lowered slightly now.
“You capture me all the time,” he muttered. “I just wanna return the favor.”
You felt your breath coming in short as you blinked, trying to process what he said. Simultaneously, you felt something in your chest sting, something between warmth and uncertainty. It was stupid, no matter what the circumstances could be, he always knew what to say to make ur throat run dry.
You frowned. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to—“
“Just stay there.” he replied simply as adjusted the aperture.
You felt your eyebrows furrow. “Doing what?”
“Existing.” he says, in a tone as if he was saying the most obvious answer. “That’s quite the point.”
A laugh escapes your lips, the bluntness in Seonghyeon’s words honestly getting to you. “That’s the worst direction I’ve ever heard.”
He lowers the camera again—this time fully. You felt your smile falter as you saw his expression, in the mix of both seriousness and a hint of admiration.
“Baby, I’m serious.” he says, a bit stern. “Just.. I don’t know— be there.”
Your lips hung parted, trying to process each word he said. With a sigh, your shoulders slumped, almost as if you were accepting defeat. You bit your lip for a moment, before speaking out in a whisper.
“Okay..” you say.
Seonghyeon’s breath evens out—slow, relieved, but still gentle—like he’s trying not to spook you. He nods once, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly, not into a smirk, but something a lot softer. He lifts the camera again, adjusting the strap with one hand.
“Okay.” he mimics, more to himself than to you.
You stand there, not really knowing what to do with your hands, with your face, with.. anything honestly. The room is dim except for the monitor glow, your desk lamp casting warm light across your cheekbones. You feel exposed in the smallest, quietest way—not because you’re doing anything flashy, but because you’re doing nothing at all.
He lifts the camera, angling it right at you, adjusting its focus.
“Hey.” he says, voice lower now, “You can breathe, you know.”
You let out a faint laugh under your breath, feeling that dust of crimson in the tips of your ears. “I am breathing.”
“Barely,” he mutters, half amused, half concerned.
You rolled your eyes at this, but let loose anyway. He takes the first photo while you’re still mid-exhale, the unfamiliarity of the flash still catching you off guard. He takes another when you glance away nervously, and another when you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
None of it was intentional. Just you, existing in soft motion—the exact thing he’s been wanting for so long.
He lowers the camera after a few minutes, eyes lingering on you longer than necessary, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “See?” he murmurs. “You’re doing fine.”
You scoff quietly, running a hand down your cheek. “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”
He steps closer, sliding the camera strap off his neck, tilting his head a bit. “You don’t have to know.” Then, with a little shrug, he added swiftly. “I just need you here.”
Your stomach flips—slow, warm, embarrassingly obvious— and you try not to react to the way he’s looking at you, like he’s memorizing the way your face settles when you’re not performing for anyone anymore.
“Can I see?” you ask, nodding towards the camera.
He hands it to you without hesitation. With a few clicks, you scroll through the shots—the candid ones, the ones where you look confused, the one where you’re trying not to smile, the one where you are smiling, losing the battle to yourself.
A breathy laugh slips out of you. “These are so..” you falter, shaking your head. “Why do I look like this?”
“Like what?” he asks, leaning his cheek against your shoulder as he peers at the tiny screen with you, waiting on an answer.
“I don’t know.” you shrug, your brows knitting together in thought. “Unprepared, caught off guard..” you manage.
Seonghyeon stayed quiet for a bit, staring at the screen as you clicked away.
“I like you that way though.” he says simply.
Your fingers paused on the screen. It was always so easy for him to say such things, yet if you had to be honest, not once did it ever feel forced.
Seonghyeon doesn’t try to retract it, immediately catching onto your reaction. You turn to glance at him, only to find him already looking at you—eyes half-lidded, expression open in that rare, early-morning way he only has when he’s still warm from bed, still soft around the edges.
You place the camera on the desk.
He slides his arms around your waist from behind—slow, unhurried, as if he was giving you all the time in the world to pull away if you wanted. Obviously, you don’t.
His lips brush the shell of your ear first, featherlight. Then your cheek, then lower, to the corner of your mouth.
You turn into him just enough for your lips to meet, soft, slow, the kind of touch that feels like he’s trying to tell you something without saying it out loud. His hands trace up your sides, thumbs brushing the hem of your shirt like he’s memorizing your figure.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.
Your room fell silent, your workplace now forgotten in your desk. But that could wait, you thought. Because in all honesty, in the midst of all the limelight Seonghyeon was always surrounded with nowadays, he knew he could never get tired of looking at you.
- end -
[ 📻 — finally got a break from uni, not for long though :// ANYWAYS, hope you guys enjoy this heh ]
IN WHICH — after a studio mishap, Martin calms you down with reassurance and kisses.
NOTES / 메모 — (cortis) Martin x producer!reader. fluff fluff fluff. established relationship. self indulgent. slight themes of breakdowns. wc: 1224 !
THE STUDIO HAD GONE STILL. For a moment, you swore you felt something shift in the air—just the hum of the speakers, the faint static from a muted mic, and though you could hear it all happening, you could also feel your pulse thudding in your ears.
You didn't even realize your hands were shaking until the mouse slipped a little against your palm. The blank screen of the monitor glared back at you coldly, like some sort of crime just had been unraveled.
When you got the text from Martin saying he wanted your help in the studio, you expected things would go smoothly. You'd sat through countless late sessions with him by now. You knew his tempo, his workflow, the weird little face he makes when he’s concentrating a bit too hard. You’d done this more times than you could count.
Which is exactly why it never even crossed your mind that tonight—of all nights—you’d be the one to accidentally delete the entire draft. The same one you’d been working on for two days now.
You were staring at the screen like someone trying to memorize a vanishing painting. You hadn’t even noticed when Martin came back in and called out for you, at least two times and still, you barely heard him.
Your forearm rested on the console, fingers worrying like a loose cable. For a second he thought you were just tired, then he saw the way your breath stuttered and the tightness curled at the corner of your mouth.
“Hey.” he started, snapping you out of your trance. “You okay?”
You blinked, feeling the panic rush through you. Martin was looking back at you, brows furrowed, somewhat concerned. Your mouth opened, and then closed. You wanted to just admit it, but the words suddenly felt.. stuck.
He tries again, leaning over to get a good look at you, his hand finding your wrist. “Baby, are you okay?”
You swallow, looking at the monitor, and back to him. “Yeah, no, I just—“ you falter, not seemingly getting the words right.
“What?” Martin urges, his voice concerned but gentle. “Talk to me. What is it?”
“I..” you could feel your throat tighten by each second, hesitation growing deeper despite your boyfriend’s gentle approach.
“I think I deleted it.” you manage, almost a whisper.
His brows knit at this, both confused and worried, although he already had an idea what you could’ve possibly meant, he just silently hoped you meant something else. “Which one?”
“The main session.” you admitted, voice in fragments. “The one with the vocal comp and the bridge you patched yesterday. I swear—I thought it was a duplicate folder and I tried to clean up and then—” your breathing stutters, feeling your vision pricking before continuing. “Then it’s gone.”
Martin could feel his chest ache at the sight of you. The way your shoulders had curled in, the way your fingers were shaking over the keyboard, the way you kept trying to blink fast so tears wouldn’t fall down. As much as he hated losing the file, he hated seeing you like this just as much—though really, it wasn’t even close.
Surely he could re-track a bridge, he could even redo a comp for as many times as he wants. But seeing you fold into yourself like that? That stung more than anything that disappeared off the screen.
He didn’t move for a second, a bit new to the feeling. Then slowly, he reached over, placing his hand on top of yours. “Hey,” he says, low, thumb running against your knuckles. “Breathe.”
Although he tried to console you, you were already rushing to the keyboard again, chest tight. “I can try to—maybe there’s an autosave, or—”
“Baby.” he called out, a lot more stern this time, making you stop. “Look at me.”
It took you a moment, before you felt your shoulders slump, turning around to look at him, guilt panging in your chest.
You watched the way his lips lifted up into a small smile. “It’s okay,” he said.
You immediately shook your head at this. “No, it’s not.” you say, trying to retrieve your hand away from him but, his grip got firm. “You worked so hard on that.”
“Yeah, I know.” he murmurs, nodding slowly while looking at you. “But it’s okay.”
His hand slides down your arm, thumb rubbing the skin near your wrist, pulling it slightly to place a soft kiss on it. “Accidents happen, yeah? We can start over.”
You could feel your eyes burn as he spoke, tears forming within seconds.
He moves closer as he sees this, pulling you closer to place a hand on your face. “Hey, no.” he whispers, his thumb working to caress your cheek. “Don’t cry, pretty.”
“It’s just—” your voice breaks, tiny sobs interfering. “We’ve been at this for two days. And I fucking ruined it. ”
“You haven’t ruined anything.” Martin reassures, voice steady, grounded. He leaned over, placing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips, as if he was silencing the sobs from you.
“I get it, and I’m a bit sad about it, too.” He says softly, matter of factly. “But it’s already been done, babe. I can’t really be mad at you for just helping.”
You swallow hard, blinking down at the screen like if you stared long enough, something would magically come back. He sees it all—the desperation, the subtle embarrassment, the way your shoulders tensed up, and even the way your eyes shine like you’re trying so hard to not break.
He rests his palm against your cheek, watching you gradually calm down before speaking. “And if it makes you feel better, this isn’t the first time I lost a draft.” he says, shrugging.
You blinked up at him, throat still running dry. For someone who took music so seriously, you didn’t expect him to give such a gentle reaction. But that was the great thing about being with Martin, he could be intense about the smallest sonic detail, and still soft about the things that scared you most.
“I’m sorry.” you say, a lot clearer this time, a small crease still on your forehead.
“I know, babe.” he says, running a hand on your back. “We’ll make a new one. Even better than the last.” he says, as if he was making a pledge.
You let out a weak, shaky laugh, finding his optimism amusing. “You’re too calm for this.”
His shoulders lifted in a small shrug—but his eyes stayed on you, warm and grounding.
“I have to be,” he pointed out. “If you panic, then I panic, and we both know that does not end well.” he adds with a small chuckle, feeling him intertwining his fingers with yours.
You looked at him for a second, before leaning forward slowly, almost reluctant, like you were asking permission with your eyes more than with your body.
Martin immediately met you halfway.
His hand slid to the back of your neck, thumb brushing your hairline gentle, careful, as his lips caught yours, nothing desperate nor rushed, just slow and steady.
When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his, breath tangled with his.
“Thank you.” you whispered, voice still a little cracked.
He smiled at this, soft and warm, eyes half-lidded before he murmured back.
“I got you, babe.”
- end-
[ 📻 — like i saiddd, this one is very self indulgent :,))) but nonetheless, I hope yall enjoyyyy ! ]
IN WHICH — Keonho finds himself gradually falling for the girl working in the local record store.
NOTES / 메모 — (cortis) Keonho x fem!reader. fluff. strangers to lovers. kissing. I highly recommend listening to this song while reading. wc: 1738 !
KEONHO ALWAYS CONSIDERED HIMSELF as someone determined. The type that didn’t get sidetracked by small things and fleeting moments, knowing how busy he is.
So who would’ve thought that a tiny record store across the street would be the one thing to throw him off course?
Definitely not him.
At first, it was just mere curiosity. The shop looked different from the rest of the block—small, framed posters fading under the sun, a bell that chimed when the door opened, faint music always drifting out to the sidewalk. But really, it wasn’t the store that caught his eye.
It was you.
You were behind the counter, sorting vinyl sleeves with a pair of wired headphones looped around your neck, lips moving silently to whatever you were listening to. He caught a glimpse of your smile one afternoon as he passed by when someone cracked a joke at the counter, and as ridiculous as it sounds—that image stayed in his head for days.
The first time Keonho went in wasn’t entirely planned. The others were at the studio, and he told himself he just wanted some air. But instead, he found you, humming quietly as you wiped dust off a record. And before he could second guess anything, he went inside.
It took a few strides for him to reach the shelves, hand reaching out to mindlessly flip through them, though ever so slightly Keonho’s eyes were flicking towards the counter, where you sat, headphones on, sorting new arrivals.
You had your hair down today, he noticed immediately. If someone could see the way he looked at you, they’d think he was absolutely insane. He hadn’t meant to stare for too long, but the aura he sensed from you, your style, the subtle way you mouthed the words of the song you played, made it impossible not to.
When he reached the counter to pay, you looked up, met his eyes, and much to Keonho’s delight, you smiled. Such a simple gesture yet enough to make his stomach turn in different ways.
God, help him.
He watched as you rang it up without a word, sliding the CD into a paper bag and handing it over with a faint grin.
“Here,” you say, slightly tilting your head to the side. “Come back soon.”
Surely, it felt like he was dreaming when those words came out of your mouth. He felt stupid for acting so mesmerized, yet he still gave in, returning the smile with a nod, going towards the door before he did anything to embarrass himself, the doors chiming as he left.
“Since when did you listen to the Cranberries?” Martin immediately asked him later that evening, eyeing the CD Keonho was holding.
Keonho stiffened at the question, but immediately answered. “I’ve always liked them.” he says, a bit too casual.
Yet the underlying fact remains that the only reason why he even got it was because he saw you had the same copy on your station.
The last thing you said kept replaying to him that night. Like the statement itself was luring him to go back.
“Come back soon.”
And that’s exactly what he did.
Because the very next day, he came back, fresh from dance practice, still under that guise that he was that interested in the shop. Although he made no effort to talk to you, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed him either, scheming through the aisles.
So when the door chimed again a day later, you knew you had to be the one to break the silence.
You were in the middle of restocking the shelves when Keonho walked in, and it just so happens that you were standing right in front of the vinyls he wanted.
Keonho suddenly felt his stomach churn as you turned around, offering him a small smile.
“Back again?” you ask, a slight teasing undertone in your voice. It was the first time he saw you this close, which made his heart skip a beat even more.
He shrugged, giving back that smile, hands in his pockets. “Yeah. Surprised you even remember me.”
A small laugh slipped out from you, Keonho could feel the corners of his lips rise at the sound, watching you as you spoke. “It’s hard not to. You looked lost the first time you went in.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t entirely know what I was doing then.” he admitted, sheepishly touching the back of his neck.
You hummed, hands effortlessly flipping through the vinyls in the box. “That’s fine,” you said before glancing at him. “I can fix that.”
He watched as you sorted through the box. He didn’t know what came up to him, but he found himself just asking. “What’s your favorite Radiohead album?”
You looked up, a hint of amusement scattered on your face. “That’s a good question.” you say, chuckling as you thought of your answer. “Probably OK Computer. You?”
“In Rainbows.” he immediately answered. “It has that warm vibe to it.”
He glanced over to you, watching the way your eyes light in agreement as he spoke. “Yeah.” you said softly, nodding. “That’s a good word for it.”
He didn’t mean to stay long, but every time you talked, he found another reason not to leave. He even learned that things. Like your name, and the fact that you were the same age as him. Keonho also learned that you had this way of speaking about music that made it feel.. alive—like it wasn’t just sound, but something you could touch, hold, and even live through.
When he finally paid, he placed two CDs on the counter—one Radiohead, and one random indie artist he’d never heard of.
“That’ll be thirty-five thousand.” you said, gently clasping your hands together.
He frowned at this, tilting his head a bit in confusion. “I thought it was fifty thousand?”
You shook your head, smiling. “Don’t worry about it.” you said. “You get a discount for curing my boredom.”
Keonho blinked, exhaling a small laugh. “Is that what you call the conversation we just had?”
“Mhm.” You smirked, handing him the bag. “Consider it a little gift.”
He chuckled under his breath, a small shake of his head as he took it from you—the kind of laugh that lingered even after he stepped out the door.
After that, it almost became routine.
Keonho started showing up like clockwork—always around the same time, usually after practice, when the sun dipped low enough to paint the shop in warm orange light. He’d wander through the aisles with his hood half-up, pretending to browse but never leaving without talking to you.
The visits stretched from quick drop-ins to long, easy conversations between songs playing softly in the background. It wasn’t loud, nor was it dramatic—it just fit, like he had quietly found something he was always looking for.
He took the time to get to know you more, and before he knew it, his feelings began to blossom. The bad part? He had no idea how to make it stop.
Because one night, the shop was closing, the streetlights casting soft gold through the window. You were wiping down the counter when the door chimed suddenly, you looked up to see Keonho, who appeared at the door, hair a bit messy, eyes tired but still somehow bright.
He flashed you a small smile before walking towards you. “Thought you were closed.” he said, shrugging.
“Almost,” you nodded, looking up to meet his eyes. “You’re just in time to help me close up though.”
He grinned at this, cocking his head to the side. “Do I get paid?”
“Nope.” You shook your head, giving him a tightlipped smile. “But you get the satisfaction of free labor.”
He playfully rolled his eyes at this, walking over to join you, hands brushing ever so subtly as he stacked the records, his eyes following the way you hummed to the faint music still playing.
When you turned around, he was already watching you, hands in his pockets, expression softer than you’d ever seen before.
“What?” you asked, raising a brow at him.
“Nothing,” he said, tone hushed. He sighed as he faltered on his words for a bit, until he spoke again, a lot quieter. “I just really like being here.”
You froze for a moment, your eyes drifting towards the shelves and back to him. “You mean the store?”
Keonho shook his head. “With you.”
You felt your breath trip a little as he said that. He made it sound so easy, and that terrified you for a moment. With a chuckle, you replied. “That’s a bit.. much for someone who listens to indie rock.”
Despite the tension gradually suffocating him, Keonho found himself stepping closer, still smiling as he shrugged. “Guess I’m not as cool as I thought.”
You didn’t say anything this time. The air between you felt fragile, suspended. He reached out, brushing his fingers against yours where they rested on the counter. You didn’t bother pulling away this time. Not when the message was so clear.
“Can I—?” he started, but didn’t finish as you immediately nodded.
He leaned in, slow, almost uncertain, and before he knew it, his lips were touching yours. It wasn’t rushed; It was gentle—like the kind of warmth that sneaks in, unnoticed at first, then stays. Something he’s been aching for since he saw you.
When you both pulled away, he didn’t go far. His forehead rested against yours for a second, breaths mingling in the faint hum of the neon signs outside.
Then you exhaled—soft, something in between a laugh and a breath.
“I should probably get going,” you whispered, looking down at your hands, hiding the dust of crimson growing on your cheeks.
“Yeah,” he nodded, voice just as low. “Me too.”
Keonho stepped back, hands in his pockets again, that same shy smile—but something in it felt different now. It felt more certain. He reached for the door, opening it just enough before glancing over his shoulder one more time.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You smiled, crossing your arms. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”
He nodded, almost to himself, then slipped out into the night. When the door finally clicked, you let out a breath you had no idea you were holding.
You inhaled sharply, running a hand down to your face with a groan.
“Ahn Keonho..” you whispered, leaning against the counter. “What have you done to me?”
-end-
[ 📻 — had a lot of fun writing this hihihihi, might be one of my favs. ]
IN WHICH — weeks after breaking up, an unexpected reunion makes James realize he’s fully not over you yet.
NOTES / 메모 — (cortis) james x ex!reader. angst. james + a daniel caesar song </3. wc: 1152
FOR SOMEONE CLAIMING to be fine, James was getting better at lying to himself.
It had been weeks—thirty-two days to be exact since you broke it off. Not that he was counting. But he found it hard not to, knowing your presence is still somewhere a few floors away.
He knew how the situation looked—where even the smallest bits all trained his thoughts back to you. The hum of the elevator at 2 in the morning, the flicker of the hallway light that never got fixed, even the muted sound of footsteps that sometimes made him look up, half-expecting it to be you.
Some days he laughed about it with the other members. Other days, it felt like the walls were straight up mocking him. And selfishly, he somehow hoped you thought of him just as much.
“Yo.” It was Juhoon’s voice that broke through his thoughts, sharp but concerned, making him look up. “You good? You’ve been zoning out since we got back.”
It took a few seconds for James to answer, sighing with a light smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”
Juhoon tilted his head, wanting to confirm. “From practice?”
“Something like that.” he responded, nodding along as he tossed his phone to the side with ease.
Juhoon gave him a look, something between concerned and confused, but he took the hint, not pushing him further. “You should get some air. You’ll fry your brain thinking.”
Though it was true, they’ve been busier than ever since debut, with interviews, choreography, sleepless nights, never ending shoots—yet somehow, despite him being occupied, his mind still had the capacity to think of you. Even on the best days, it always ended the same way, reaching for his phone, remembering he doesn’t have the privilege to reach out, and pretending that it didn't sting as much as it did.
James glanced at the clock, seeing that it was almost midnight. The dorm was quiet, save for the faint buzz of the AC. He assumed the others had gone to sleep, sprawled out after another long day, but still, his mind refused to rest.
Maybe Juhoon was right. Maybe he was frying his brain thinking.
With a soft exhale, James reached out to grab a hoodie, slipping it on, giving Juhoon no warning as he went for the door. The hallway outside was dim, washed in that pale orange glow that made everything feel slower. Familiar, in a way, though he sorta wished it wasn’t.
His fingers reached out to press the elevator button, his shoes shuffling as he got inside, watching the metal doors shut tightly. A soft thud emitted as he rested his head on the wall, hands stuffed deep in his pockets as he let his eyes close for a second.
He wanted to pay no attention as the elevator came to a stop, though he found his eyes fluttering open as it dinged. He didn’t know what he was expecting, anyone could’ve been up in a time like this, yet once the doors slid open, he found his breath hitching at the sight.
Because for the first time in weeks, you were standing right in front of him.
James caught the way your expression flickered into something between stunned and uncertain. Like you were just as baffled as him. For a second, he wanted to just slip out and go, yet he couldn’t. Not when you looked at him as if nothing had ever changed.
His pulse stuttered in his throat as you stepped in, taking your place right beside him, watching the metal doors close again.
The silence stretched for a moment. Until you broke the silence.
“Hey.” you started, voice still a bit small.
“Hey.” he replied, barely looking, ignoring the fact that he could feel his pulse beating in his throat.
“How’s it been?” you ask.
“Been busy.” James answered briefly, nodding before turning to look at you. “You?”
This made you smile, a part of you somehow glad that he wasn’t shying away from talking to you despite everything that happened.
“Same here.” you shrug. “Heard about your debut though.”
James could feel his stomach twist as you said that. He found it odd, as he was once just telling you about the same awaited debut months ago. It was hard to believe this is how you both end up.
“Congrats, James.” you add, sincerity clear in your voice as you give him a smile, contagiously making him crack one as well.
“Thanks.” he replied, nodding. “Feels weird honestly. The good kind though.” he adds, gradually feeling a bit comfortable now.
You let out a small laugh, reducing tension. “Yeah, I can only imagine that.”
“You deserve it though.” you say after a beat.
“Yeah?” he asked, lips quirking faintly, though his voice came out softer than he intended. “Well I sure hope so.”
The quiet hum of the elevator filled the space between again, and James swore he could hear his own heartbeat in it as the silence grew. It wasn’t awkward, just heavy with everything neither of you knew how to say.
Then, almost too casually, you broke it again.
“I’m moving out soon.” you mutter.
His head turned before he could stop himself. For a second, James’ mind turned blank, barely processing what you just said. Without much thought, he replied. “Really?”
“Yeah, probably around next week.” you nodded, eyes shifting between the ground and the elevator doors. You could feel the anxiousness growing when he didn’t respond, guilt rushing down your spine.
“Look it’s—not because of you, if.. that’s what you’re thinking.” you explain, and James couldn’t even deny, because for a moment that was exactly what he thought.
“Yeah, I hear you.” he nodded, looking away. “It doesn't really get easier living in the same building.”
You hum, fingers fidgeting. “No. It doesn’t.”
The elevator slowed to a stop, the faint ding echoing louder than it should’ve. Neither of you moved at first. There was too much sitting in the quiet—all the things that could’ve been said, all the things that should’ve been. Apologies that came too late. Questions that didn’t need answers. At least not anymore.
For a heartbeat, it almost felt like one of you would break the silence, reach out, do something. But then the doors slid open, reality instantly slipped in with the hallway light.
Almost hesitantly, you stepped out. Just as he thought you were about to walk away, you turned around, meeting his gaze properly this time.
“You’ll be okay, right?” you ask, quiet.
James stared, finding himself nodding after a brief pause. “Always,” he says.
You flashed him a smile, nodding as you found his answer enough. “Good.”
James watched as the doors slowly slid, your figuring gradually disappearing until he was met with his own reflection from the metal doors.
James let out a breath, resting his head once again on the wall.
Yeah. He’ll be fine.
[ radio — first written piece in a while kinda nervy heh ! ]
ˎˊ˗ꜱʏᴘɴᴏꜱɪꜱ:- In which nothing reader hates more than people assuming she's too soft so what happens when heeseung tells her he needs to be gentle with her and she has the ever so need to prove him wrong.
ˎˊ˗ᴄ.ᴡ:- tied him down to my queen bed— teased him just enough to hate me. now playing freak by doja cat
ˎˊ˗ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:- dombutforcedsub!hee x fem!reader
ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ.ᐟ >ᴗ<
It's hot inside the room. This has been going on for 40 minutes of pure teasing. Heat is radiating from your back— the room is humid and you're both sweating.
A quiet whimper filled the room as you sat innocently on his lap with your thighs on either side of his hip— straddling him with a small smile playing on your face. You tilted your head to see the view infront of you more clearly, a sprawled out heeseung with his eyes clenched close- his face lightly flushed.
"F-Fuck- I-" heeseung's voice cracked as he shut his eyes close gripping the air his hands tightening over nothing— his hips mindlessly thrusted up— now there's a tear drop falling down his cheek.
"Aww baby-" You cooed as your hands found his face wiping away the tear as you slowly rubbed your clothed clit against him as another whimper was let out softer now— more desperate than before— as he starts shaking his head quickly, "No- p-please— fuck!" His eyes open wide as he shakes his head slightly.
"Y/nnie please- f-fuck I'll do anything- I swear. I take it back- I n-need it, please" his words were stammered and rushed against eachother.
You smiled softly as your voice etched lower, "What was it, that you said?" You say innocently as you batt your eyelashes bending slightly so your face is near his. His eyebrows scrunched together as he tries to remember what he said his mind is a haze and his dick is so hard it might fall off. He shakes his head slightly "f-fuck I don't remember- baby-" He sounds desperate his eyes are glistening and his pupils are blown wide.
"Y/n-" He whispers as he moves his hips against your ass desperately to get any friction before you quickly stop him kissing your teeth, "Oh, it's shame you don't remember what you said," You smile softer—more mocking— as he releases a deep breath needy.
"You're too gentle, sweetheart— it makes me worried I'll hurt you-" You quote him softly as you reach forward your hands wiping another tear drop running down his cheek. The situation made you giggle, honestly. Just a few days ago you were sprawled across the couch your head on his lap as he told you that— now just 3 days later you have him begging tied up on your queen bed. Teased him just enough to hate you, tears running down his cheeks, his voice so desperate and needy for any attention— anything to relieve him from this.
His eyes widened slowly as he groans softly, shaking his head desperately, "F-Fuck- I'm sorry baby- I'm so- fuck! Please-" You giggled softly as you leaned down slowly hips grinding against his and pecked his lips which you received a loud groan as his hands itched against the handcuffs you found. "Pl-please don't stop-" He whispers as his eyes roll to the back of his head when you slowly grind down on him, your clothed clit feels a hard tip poking against you- desperate for any friction- you slowly moved against it as you kept your hands lay on his bare chest which was raising up and down profusely. You bit your buttom lip slightly as you feel him thrust his hip up. Your lace leggings wrapping around his legs ever so slightly.
You slowly reach forward hands dragging slowly down as you feel him fucking shiver— soft goosebumps raise across his skin. You lean inches away from his face as you hear another whimper your lips meet his and he kisses you back like a man starved- his lips biting against your bottom lip— as you part your lips you hear a loud groan as his lips move quick— his tongue sliding against your lips, he kisses you like that's the only thing he knows how to do.
Your hands travel down his chest his abs flexed against your palm, as you pull back from the kiss earning a soft whine from him, "Baby- im- so fucking sorry- I'm gonna pass out- p-please-" You giggle softly hearing his voice as you slide slowly down his lap settling your hands against either side of his hip, he looks at you observing everything his eyes wide and desperate as he sees your head reaches lower and lower. He shuts his eyes close as your head reaches his dick which is now red and leaking like it's angry- desperate for heat.
You pout as your glossed lips part kissing his tip— earning a loud whimper from him as his eyes roll back so fast— "Fuck!" He screams out. Heeseung as surprised as you are didn't explode when he felt your plush glossed lips wrap around his thick leaking cock. "feels- mmph! S-so good.."
You smile softly as your tongue licks his red tip before taking him in slowly. Tears running down his face he groans loudly. Your mouth works faster as his hips thrust against your face your mouth taking in his entire length and stroking the rest, his eyes watch you like a man starved watching each head bob desperately faster and faster as his eyes roll back-
"feels so- f-fuck- m' gonna-" He groans as he releases in your mouth, his dick still twitching. You swallow slowly as you lick your lips clean as you see heeseungs eyes shut like he's trying not to explode.
"Was that good, sweetheart?" You ask innocently earning a eager nod from him, "So- mmph- s-so good-" He says stammering. "Baby-im so-sorry I need to feel you- around me- please- fuck! I'll do anything you say" You chuckle softly as you get off the bed which results in hee's eyes widening, you chuckle and tilt your head, "Oh this is only the beginning, hee."
He was in for a long night and he was so fucking excited. Safe to say he would never utter a word like that again. Even if he did, he knew what he was getting himself into.
• Day 29: Can’t take my eyes off you - 김선우
↳ ┊: 123-78 - boynextdoor
꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆counting sunoo's freckles ⨾
۶ৎ idol!sunoo x fem!reader┆fluff┆petnames, kisses┆wc 200
⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i'm the biggest sunoo freckle enthusiast EVER ! i so desperately love them and i think he needs more makeup looks with them
꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱
on late nights like these, after excruciatingly long dance and vocal practices, all sunoo wanted was for you to be in his arms, your delicate finger tracing constellations out of the freckles that scattered his face.
"sunshine? you still awake?" he calls out softly, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. he squints into the darkness, trying to see if the lump on the bed moved or made a sound.
once he climbed in next to you, he finally sees your curious eyes wide awake before they crinkle into little crescents at the sight of your boyfriend.
"hi sun! long day?" you peck his lips, snuggling into his warmth.
"tell me about it," sunoo exhales, letting the sleep take over his eyes.
he feels the soft tips of your fingers trace along his nose bridge, to the sides of his face, and over his cheeks, connecting his freckles through imaginary lines of love.
the ticklish yet soothing feeling is quick to lull him to sleep as you continue drawing patterns and shapes with his freckles.
"my sun has little mini stars," you giggle quietly, pressing a final kiss to his cheeks and joining sunoo in the land of dreams.
in which . . . you've always hated winter and it's extreme coldness, though this time around, you feel warm ୨୧ est relationship! au wc 1.2k ・ w kissing, corniness, pet-names + likes n' feedback are greatly appreciated !
A/N 💌 for my dearest @elysianiki again >< also this is highkey based on my experience with my crush bc im always flipping cold and he held my hand to keep my hands warm lololol ur girl might have a bf
You always hated cold weather. You hated how your hands would get obnoxiously cold, the numbness creeping up your fingers until it felt like they weren’t even yours anymore. You hated how your skin would feel dry and tight no matter how much lotion you slathered on—nothing seemed to help. You hated the way the cold air nipped at your nose and stung your cheeks. But most of all, you hated how the wind would whip against your face, especially on days when it was so gusty that it felt like the world itself was trying to freeze you out. Winter was a season you wished would never come. It was gray, bitter, and never-ending.
Except this time around, you feel warm.
Your hands weren’t as cold as before, not with Riki’s hand firmly holding yours. High winds didn’t bother you as much anymore, not when you were wrapped in his warmth. Two scarves now adorned your neck, one from him and one from you, and it was strange how the things you’d once hated about winter now felt comforting. The season that had always been an enemy now felt like a companion.
Your warmth was Nishimura Riki. His hands were always warm, even in the dead of winter. And they never left yours as you strolled through downtown, the city streets empty except for the occasional late-night wanderer, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. You weren’t really looking for anything, just for something to snack on, but it didn’t matter. With Riki beside you, everything else faded away.
“Why are your hands so cold?” Riki asked, his frown deepening when you slipped your hand into his, shivering from the chill of your fingers.
“Would you like my gloves? Tell me why your hands are cold,” he immediately started to pull off his gloves, intent on giving them to you, but you stopped him with a soft laugh.
“Love,” you giggled, reaching out to stop his frantic movement. “I’m fine. Just hold my hand, please?”
He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowed in concern, but when his fingers gently closed around yours, the warmth surged through you. You couldn’t help but smile. It was a comfort you never knew you needed.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice soft. His grip tightened, but there was a tenderness in his touch, like he was afraid you might slip away from him. “You’re freezing. I don’t want you to get sick.”
You shook your head with a grin. “I promise, I’m fine. You’re warm enough for both of us.”
“Mm,” Riki murmured, unconvinced. “I swear, you’re like an ice cube. What would I do if you really froze to death? I’d be all alone.”
You giggled at his dramatic tone. “Don’t worry, love. I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as you’re here.”
He gave you a pointed look. “Well, if I’m going to be your personal heater, you at least have to be careful. I can’t keep you warm forever.” But the seriousness in his voice only made you smile wider.
“I don’t mind,” you teased, squeezing his hand. “I love having my own personal heater.”
Riki rolled his eyes playfully but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Not even the label ‘boyfriend’?”
You grinned mischievously. “Okay, okay. Fine.” You squeezed his hand again. “My personal heater boyfriend. Happy now?”
His smile softened, his eyes full of warmth and affection as he looked at you. “Much better.”
He leaned down and kissed you softly, just a quick peck, but it was enough to make your heart flutter. When you pulled away, a faint blush had spread across his cheeks. You smiled even more at the sight.
“You’re so cute,” you murmured, playfully nudging him with your shoulder.
Riki raised an eyebrow. “Cute? I’m not cute. I’m just trying to keep you alive here.”
You laughed, poking him in the ribs. “You’re totally cute. Don’t even try to deny it.”
Riki huffed, shaking his head in mock indignation. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, babe. But seriously,” he added with a teasing smile, “if you ever freeze to death, I swear, I’ll be devastated.”
You looked up at him, your smile fading just a little as his words sank in. “I promise I won’t freeze to death, okay? You’ll always be here, right?”
“Always,” he said, squeezing your hand tighter. “No matter what. I’ll be here to keep you warm, no matter how cold it gets.”
His words made your heart swell. Riki was always like this—protective, sweet, and so unbelievably warm. Not just physically, but in every way that mattered. He made the world feel brighter, even on the coldest days.
“Good,” you whispered, looking up at him. “Because I don’t think I could survive winter without you.”
“Then you better not try,” he said, his voice light, but there was an edge of seriousness to it. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “I’m not letting you go anywhere. You’re stuck with me, and I’m not letting you freeze to death.”
You chuckled, but it was a soft sound, filled with warmth. “Well, lucky for you, I think I’m stuck with you too.”
Riki smiled, his gaze so tender it made your chest ache. “Good. Because I’m never letting you go.”
The two of you walked on, the cold air biting at your cheeks, but with every step, the warmth between you two only seemed to grow. Every little touch, every shared moment, made the chill of the night seem distant and insignificant. With him by your side, the world didn’t feel so cold.
Suddenly, winter didn’t feel so depressing. With Riki by your side, everything had changed. He was the one who made the cold bearable, the one who made every moment seem warmer. When he wrapped his arms around you, the chill of the world seemed to disappear, replaced by the heat of his embrace. He always made sure the wind didn’t reach you, pulling you closer when it got too strong, knowing how much you hated it.
There was something so comforting about being with him in the middle of winter, something that made the harsh season seem not so harsh after all. When you were with Riki, you felt safe, cared for, and loved in a way you had never known before. On nights when the temperature dropped and the wind howled, his presence was enough to turn the world into a warm cocoon. It was as though he could block out the cold, not just with his physical warmth, but with his unwavering attention.
You never thought you’d love winter, but with Riki, everything felt different. The cold nights that once made you miserable now became an excuse to stay inside together, wrapped in blankets, sipping hot drinks and just enjoying each other’s company. Or sometimes, you'd go out for late-night walks, bundled up in scarves and coats, your arms intertwined as you explored the quieter parts of the city. The chill in the air was a small price to pay for the warmth he provided.
You realized you wished winter could last forever—just so you could spend endless nights cuddled under thick blankets, falling asleep with his kisses on your forehead and his arms around you. The thought of resting with him, sharing quiet moments that only winter could bring, filled you with a deep contentment.
Riki was your warmth. He was your sunshine in the frost. And with him, even the coldest days felt like a gentle embrace.
He was the sunshine of your life. And in the midst of winter’s harshness, you were grateful for him more than words could say.
just reminding my fellow carats to vote for svt for the mama music awards by:
1. voting on the mnet+ app!
votes on the app contribute to 90% of the results!!!
vote svt in 3 categories: "visa fans' choice of the year" "fans' choice 2nd vote" and "visa super stage"
2. use the tags #2024MAMAVOTE #SEVENTEEN on X/twitter
it is limited to one vote a day per account! and the account must be public. votes must include some sort of context to be counted. typos will not count!!
“Okay, alright.” you clasped your hands together, the hint of a smile still hanging between your lips from the previous laugh you let out. “What about this..”
“Hit me.” Vernon spoke, glancing over at you with a lazy smile, seemingly enjoying this random; late night debate you both recently found the habit of doing. And tonight’s topic landed on a very familiar subject to the two of you, Radiohead.
“OK Computer or..” you trailed off, your tongue poking the inside of your cheek as you pretended to think. “..The Bends?”
Vernon scoffed, shaking his head a bit at your question. “You can’t do that, babe.”
“To be fair, your last question was tricky.” you shrugged, scooting a bit closer to his side as you waited. “So, what is it?” you bit back a grin as you asked.
“Well,” he began, humming as he thought of his answer, the sides of his lips rising into a smirk as he spoke. “I can’t really say no to The Bends.”
You gasped, as if you were genuinely offended by his answer. “No fucking way.”
“Don’t lie, you already knew I was going to say that.” he chuckled, bringing his hand up to pinch your cheek. Sadly, what he said is true.
“You’re just saying that ‘cause you once made out with me with the album on.” you say casually, swatting his hand away while his smile only widened.
“You’re not wrong, though.” he admitted, gently grabbing your arm to pull you closer to him, his head now resting on the crook of your neck.
“I’d marry you the same way if that’s what you want.” he mumbled.
You hummed, running your hand through his hair. “Really?”
“Yeah.” It seemed so easy for him to say, yet you knew he was being honest. He always is, which makes you adore him even more.
“I guess I’m not opposed to the idea.” you muttered back with the same amount of truth he just gave you. He lifted his head up to look at you.
“Is that a yes then?”
You laugh, finding it hard not to as you figured that the question itself was straight up ridiculous. It didn’t matter if his favorite Radiohead track didn’t align with yours.
At the end of the day, you’d always say yes to him.
a/n: I was listening to Daniel Caesar while writing and his songs just radiate vernon vibes sm </33
“Cheol.” you called out, sending a warning tone to your fiancé who has been shamelessly touching and nipping on your exposed skin for a bit now, the tips of his fingers softly fondling with the fabric of your robe that was barely on you. “Baby, what are you doing?”
He stopped to look at you for a moment, that dazed look on his eyes matching with the lazy smirk he had on his face.
“I’m simply..” he faltered, re-adjusting as he sat you down on his lap to face him. “..showing how much I missed you. That alright with you?”
You knew the tendencies of him being this way were likely high, especially because he hasn’t been able to control that nowadays. Though considering you practically agreed to be stuck with him forever, you have no choice but to give in to him. At all times.
A hitched sigh left your lips as the cold pads of his fingers draped through your inner thighs, going right through the ends of your robe. That was enough to suddenly alarm you, suddenly remembering your daughter’s dormant presence in the room next door. “Cheol– you’re gonna get us caught..”
“Yeah? But I want you inside..” he hummed, looking at you with hope in his eyes, hands subtly tying the silk knot in the small of your back. “Please, pretty? You love my cock right?”
You felt yourself clench with his mere words, giving him no answer as you let him slip off the thin clothing from your tense form. A soft mewl escaped your parted mouth as you watched his cock spring out from his loose sweatpants, a hint of pre-cum glazing the tip.
Seungcheol could subtly feel his ego being stroked at you gawking at his length, which was no different from the first time you did.
“Slow..” he instructed as you slid down on him, watching you taking him in whole as you sat down on his lap once more. “Yeah, just stay like that for me, baby..”
You on top of him has always been his favorite thing to look at. You just looked so damn pretty with your hooded eyes, lips quivering as your legs shook in the same manner. He once said that this was one of his favorite ways of being close to you. And you always seem to be proving that right each time you slowly move to rock your hips, emitting a grunt from him.
I've been gone for about two months now but the love I receive day to day just doesn't stop :,)) I swear, I'll get back to writing as soon as I catch a break 🫂💌
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