— in which martin exposes the instagram stories he posted to catch your attention before bagging you.
— based on this ask!
( nonidol!martin x reader )
james ver. ✶ cortis masterlist
note 𖦹 dedicated to the lovely @sevvycoer who sent in the request, @teacuplps my fav mars enthusiast!! (quoted timmy chalabingbong from heart to heart, and @kaikaikoi for the kanye lyric reference LMAOOO its plastered in my head rn , yearner/downbad tin for all!!!!!
comment on this POST , if u want to be added to my perm taglist!
You’re sitting on the floor of his room, surrounded by Lego pieces like you’ve lost a tiny, colorful war, there’s a halfbuilt set between you, instructions ignored somewhere twenty minutes ago. Martin is kneeling across from you, sleeves pushed up, paint smudge on his wrist because you were also painting earlier and neither of you cleaned up properly.
“Okay,” he says, squinting at the pieces in his hand. “I think this goes....here?” You lean closer. “No baby, that one’s upside down.”
“Oh.” He laughs, immediately fixing it. “That explains a lot.” Your knees bump. Neither of you moves away. There’s paint drying on paper beside you, messy overlapping colors, nothing impressive.
Just something to do together. Martin glances at it, then at you. “I really like yours.”
“It’s literally just blue,” you say. “Yeah, but it’s, like...a good blue.” You snort. “You’re bad at compliments.”
“I’m trying,” he says defensively, smiling. You finish snapping a piece into place and set it down. For a second, there’s nothing to do. No instructions. No paint left to mix. Just him. He rocks back on his heels, then forward again, like he can’t decide what to do with himself. “Can I—uh—” You look up. “Yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck. “This is gonna sound dumb.”
“I like dumb.” That makes him smile, relieved. “Uhm—okay. Cool.” He takes a breath. “Can I kiss you?” Your stomach flips. You nod. “Y-yeah.” He leans in, hesitates, then commits. It’s a little off—your lips meet at a weird angle, too quick, too unsure.
He pulls back immediately. “...Sorry,” he says.You laugh. “It’s okay. That was kind of bad.”
“Thank Goodness,” he says, relieved. “I-i thought i messed it up.” There’s a beat. He looks at you, hopeful. “Can we try again?” You nod. “Please.” This time, he goes slower. You meet him halfway. The kiss lasts longer, still awkward, but warmer. His hand hovers near your knee, unsure, before resting there lightly.
Neither of you pulls away right away. it's no sparks or fireworks, just soft and steady and a little clumsy, like you’re both concentrating really hard.When you finally separate, Martin’s grinning like he just won something.
“...That was better,” he says. You smile. “Yeah. Much better.” He laughs, embarrassed, then reaches for another Lego piece. “Okay, cool. So. Uh. Do you want to finish the roof?”
You bump his shoulder. “You’re such a nerd.”
“I know,” he says proudly. Then, quieter: “But I’m really glad that was with you.” You go back to building, knees touching again, the room feeling warmer than before. And every now and then, he glances at you and smiles for no reason at all.
At some point, you both abandon the Lego.
Not on purpose, it just happens. Martin reaches for a piece, knocks over the paint water instead, and suddenly there’s a small, spreading puddle on the paper and your fingers are scrambling to save things. “NO—wait—oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he blurts, grabbing paper towels. You laugh. “It’s fine, it’s fine—” Except it’s not entirely fine, because there’s now a streak of blue paint on your sleeve, You look down. “Martin.” He freezes.
“What. What did I do.” You lift your arm. He stares, then visibly panics.“I—okay, okay, that’s my fault, I’ll wash it, I swear—” You dip your finger into the paint and swipe a small streak across his shirt. He gasps. “HEY.”
“You started it.” He looks down at the mark, then back up at you. There’s a split second where you think he might protest. Instead, he smiles. Wide. Mischievous. “Oh. It’s like that?” You barely have time to react before he gently dabs paint onto your other sleeve, laughing.
You retaliate. He dodges badly. Paint ends up on his wrist, your fingers, the floor. You’re both laughing too hard to stop. Eventually, you collapse back onto the floor, out of breath, paint everywhere, shoulders touching again.“We’re really bad at this,” he says. You grin. “Yeah.” There’s a quiet beat. The laughter fades into something softer.
Martin glances at you, then away, then back again. His energy shifts a bit—still the same, but nervous again. “...Can I ask you something?” he says.
You tilt your head. “You already know the answer’s probably yes.” He laughs, rubbing his thumb against his paint-stained fingers. “Yeah, but still.” He looks at you properly this time. “Can I kiss you again?” Your chest feels warm. You nod. “Yeah.”
He doesn’t rush it. He leans in slowly, giving you time to move away if you want to.You don’t. This kiss is still a little awkward, your noses brush, and he smiles into it, but it lasts longer. His hand rests lightly on your knee, paint smearing faintly onto your skin, neither of you caring. When you pull back, he stays close, forehead almost touching yours.
“...Okay,” he says softly. “Yeah. I liked that one.” You smile. “Me too.” He grins, that golden, pleased with himself grin. “Cool. Just checking.” You both look down at the mess around you—paint, Lego pieces, ruined paper. “Well,” you say, “we should probably clean up.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. Neither of you moves. After a second, he leans in again, quick and gentle this time, like he couldn’t help himself. “Sorry,” he says, smiling. “Last one.” You don’t believe him for a second.
have yall ever wondered why writer's block is so insanely hard to get over especially when ive been through torture from my institute i feel like offing myself xoxo, but in all honesty, i need to get my shit together and post the 20 drafts laying in my queue which i cannot finish because its apparently not good enough, well my writings were never good enough so why am i so concerned now oml.
reading all these post about fans stalking mingyu on his run and in the club I’m like: girl… stop it. I understand it’s kim mingyu but isn’t it just… humiliating??? to be that intrusive?? hard to believe but I would NEVER approach him or, god forbid, seungcheol irl… first of all,I’d be so scared, and second of all, I’m a narcissist so what do you mean it’s me being obsessed with him??? it’s HIM who’s in love with me aka y/n aka that mysterious girl from the street and we’re going to meet at the jackson wang’s party anyway 💅🏻
all jokes aside we all know what personal space is and I’d better behave like that uninterested friend that y/n brought to one direction concert (iykyk) than throw myself to their feet
It's only recently that I've discovered that i have a huge thing for Chinese men like OH MY GOD.
I've been thinking why I'm so head over heels for Minghao all of a sudden after it always being on the back of my mind until I started tweaking out for Junhui too, and I then realised i just have a type for Chinese men over all 🤸
mingyu is a giver. the term “bare minimum” doesn’t exist in his dictionary.
you make dinner for him? he’s lifting you up onto the counter and eating you out right there and then.
you iron his clothes for him? he’s putting his freshly-ironed shirt on just to fuck you balls deep into the mattress.
you greet him at the door when he comes home? his tongue would explore your mouth, your back against the wall as his hand starts to wander upwards to your ass.
you offer to wash his back in the bath? he’s spreading you open in between his thighs, his fingers buried deep in your gummy walls, palm flush against your clit.
you send him a sexy pic of you while he’s at work? he’d practically sprint to the bathroom to send you back a video of him fisting his cock, making sure that every breath, and every moan is captured on video.
a/n: ahghhhh i’m so sorry i’ve been so IA lately!! work has been kicking my butt lately + being sick does not help!!
ᯓwho☆: 𝒿unhui x reader (fluff + hurt/comfort? x fic)
ᯓwhat☆: junhui's pouting, you’re apologizing, and his entire family has front-row seats to the most dramatic yet adorable argument of the year.
ᯓword count☆: 651
ᯓnotes☆: junjunjun.
junhui hasn’t said a word in fifteen minutes. not one. he’s sitting across from you at his family’s dinner table, chopsticks in hand, shoulders slightly slumped, lower lip pushed out in the most tragically visible pout known to mankind. god is he dramatic.
you, on the other hand, are in panic mode. “hui, please,” you whisper, nudging his foot under the table, “i already said i’m sorry.” he doesn’t even look at you. “hm.”
“hm?” you hiss. “that’s all i get? a hm?”
he finally glances up, eyes wide and innocent like he’s not being the most dramatic man alive. “you made fun of my fashion.” he says, voice soft and wounded.
“yellow and purple don't go together! why can't you listen?!”
“i do listen! you're the one not listening to me. you never listen.” he argues quietly.
“i never listen? junhui this is ridiculou-" you stop when you realize his aunt is watching with barely disguised amusement. across the table, his dad elbows his uncle and snickers. you can feel your face heat up as you give them an awkward smile. “we’re fine,” you say weakly. “just… passionate fashion opinions.”
his mom hums knowingly but says nothing. junhui keeps pouting. you try to feed him a piece of tofu to break the tension. he doesn’t even look at it. “junhui,” you whisper again, leaning closer, “please stop being mad. i’m really, really sorry.”
he stabs at his rice. “you said you'd be embarrassed of me if i go out like that.”
“i meant i'd be endeared!” you whisper-shout, but it’s too late.
his aunt bursts into laughter. “junhui!” she exclaims, grinning wide. “stop pouting and now you apologize to your dear fiancée! don’t try to act cute!” the whole table erupts. his mom’s laughing, his cousin’s choking on his soup, and you? you’re sinking into your chair wishing for the ground to open up. junhui blinks, cheeks turning pink, caught in the act.
“i’m not pouting,” he mumbles.
“you are pouting,” his mom corrects him. “and you’ve been doing it since you sat down.”
he crosses his arms, which only makes it worse. “i just think—”
“—that your fashion choices are excellent?” his aunt interrupts, “i think we have to go with your fiancée for this one."
you can’t help it, you laugh, loud and sudden, and junhui shoots you a betrayed look that somehow makes him even cuter. “don’t laugh,” he says quietly, pouting harder.
“i can’t not laugh,” you whisper back, still smiling. “you look like a five-year-old denied candy and is regretting denying it!”
his family starts teasing him all over again, his mom saying something about how he’s always been this way, his cousin asking if this is a daily thing. junhui sighs dramatically and looks at you with the most exasperated expression imaginable.
“you see what you did?” he mutters.
you grin. “yeah. i made everyone realize how bad your fashion taste is.”
he groans, covering his face with one hand. “i’m never living this down.”
you reach for his other hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “probably not,” you whisper, “but i’ll make it up to you.”
he peeks at you between his fingers, lips twitching. “with what?”
“by letting you dress me up.” you say.
his pout softens immediately. “even though you don't like my taste?!”
“…yeah. even though i dislike it. i still like you.”
he tries to act unimpressed, but the way his hand squeezes yours back, the way he has a small smile resting on his lips, the way he's blushing, gives him away. the rest of dinner is filled with laughter and teasing. “ah,” his uncle says, grinning, “they made up already. our junhui's in love!”
you giggle and he looks at you and blushes again. you're about to get married in a few weeks, but he's still blushing about your giggles. he's definitely in love.
I feel like I’m stalking u with how quickly i interact but just i have ur notifs on and every time u answer an anon or post I KNOW it’s gonna be fire so I just HAVE to check🥹✌️
YOU KNOW YOU'RE BEING TOO SWEET. IT HAS TO BE THAT YOURE BUTTERING ME UP.
I get so excited when I receive a praise or a request, I like fulfilling them even when I'm not consistent lol 🫣 with the longer ones only though, which I want to put my attention in more to make it as near as perfect. But anything like a small headcannon or a oneshot is something i fullfill quickly when I get the time since I type so fast and I'm mostly on my phone these days.
THANK YOU SO MUCH, IT MAKES ME SOOOO GIDDY! 🤭🫶 YOURE ALWAYS WELCOME HERE 🫶🫶