In the history of humanity, soulmates have always existed. With as many mark indicators as grains of sand on a beach, soulmate experts have divided them into categories. “Physical marks” are soulmate indicators that either put you in direct communication with your soulmate, or indicate your soulmate quite clearly. This includes shared thoughts, soul journals and jewelry, red strings, first words, and more. “Non-physical marks” are soulmate indicators that are shared characteristics or senses. These are usually more vague, so when a pair makes first eye contact (in person), they will emit a golden glow until they make physical contact.
While there are millions of different types of indicators, some are more common than others. This includes the famous red string, seeing colors for the first time when meeting your soulmate, first words said to one another, and even as straightforward as having the name of your soulmate on your wrist. Others are more rare, such as soul jewelry and pets, specific shared characteristics, or deviations of common soulmate markers.
In the world of celebrities, soulmates are an interesting subject. It can depend on the country, as in some places, soulmate markers can either be a very private and personal matter or they can be easily found on the internet. In the Western hemisphere, almost any figure of importance has their soulmate indicator listed on Wikipedia.
When it comes to the K-Pop industry, markers are much more on the private side. A large part of what makes an idol such a sellable product is believing the idol could be your soulmate. While fans are usually more accepting when an idol announces they have found their soulmate, they can also be a bit obsessive when it comes to discovering the soulmate marker of idols. In fact, studies done have shown that idols whose soulmate markers have been revealed actually tend to retain and gain more fans with similar or the same marker.
It is not uncommon for idols to be seen covering up their wrists or covering up parts of their body that could have markings, even if that isn’t their mark. Many companies keep their idols’ soulmate markers private, making it easier to sift through soulmate claims as well as maintaining the possible soulmate appearance.
By now, most of the older NCT members had found their soulmates, publicly revealed or not. Maybe it was a bit soon, but who didn’t want to find their other half. The boys of NCT Dream were getting a bit impatient…
7 boys, 7 different soulmate indicators,
7 soulmates to find.
Never Lost in Translation
idol! Chenle x fem! reader
Chenle isn't 100% sure what his soulmate mark is to be honest...but it might have something to do with what Mark calls his "valley girl accent". He's not exactly sure why he says English words like that, but at least they make it easier to understand Steph Curry's posts.
soulmate status: found
I've Been Living With a Pokemon Who is My Soulmate
Jeno is allergic to cats, so of course his soulmate's animal is a cat. Thank goodness soul pets don't shed, or else he'd be in trouble. His next problem is that said animal likes to be out and about, which kind of makes it hard to keep his soulmate mark a secret.
idol! Jeno x fem! reader
soulmate status: still searching
My Soulmate's Best Friend is Hot !!
Things should be easy for Haechan, instead of all this hard stuff like Jeno's cat-pokemon thing or Taeyong's generic words or even Mark's secret diary he can't ever find, he has a name on his wrist. Except the name has changed before, like at least 4 times since he got the name.
idol! Haechan x fem! reader
soulmate status: still searching
It's Not a Diary!! It's a Thought Journal!!
Despite what Haechan says, Mark will insist till the day he dies that this is NOT a diary, it is his soulmate marker. Maybe he uses it to rant about his day or talk about his feelings, but that just makes it a thought journal, okay?
idol! Mark x fem! reader
soulmate status: still searching
Do Boys Wear Tiaras? (The answer is sometimes)
Renjun is a bit special, soul jewelry isn't a common soulmate indicator. Though, the Dream boys might think he's insane for playing with the seemingly invisible necklace around his neck or ring on his thumb or tiara on his head.
idol! Renjun x fem! reader
soulmate status: still searching
Fav Food: Cilantro with a Side of Ramen or Mashed Potatoes with Ketchup
People have always assumed Jaemin's tastes were a bit strange. Lots of his interesting preferences have been talked, like how he likes his coffee with a ton of shots of espresso. Though, he does wonder if all those are him or if some of them are from his soulmate.
idol! Jaemin x fem! reader
soulmate status: still searching
I Hope my Soulmate Gets Out of My Hair
If they have a schedule, Jisung's hair stylist is only 5 ft away at all times. Sure, he has had a lot of different hair styles over the years and lots of different colors, but that's not why they follow him like a body guard. Because honestly, having the same hair color isn't even scratching the surface of how their hair works.
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✦ genre: soulmate au, fluff, found family, angst, accident, hospital
✦ word count: 4.1k
✦ note: tell a friend to tell a friend, she's baaaaaaaaack!! I've rewritten this a thousand times, give me all the feedback you have, I'm desperate to hear what you think cause: ugh I love them!!
Vernon had always been known as a very nonchalant and chill guy to all those who knew him.
What most people didn’t know was that he in fact loved deeper and protected those that he loved more than people usually noticed.
The love he showed people was quiet.
He showed it when he was a child whenever he took his sister's hand when they crossed the street. He showed it in how his door was always open if she had a nightmare or how he would help her with eating her vegetables when their parents looked the other way.
He showed love to his parents by listening to what they told him, he showed it to his friends when they were bullied and he stood up for them.
And when you and your family had moved in next door he had shown love by memorizing every single thing that you loved. Everything from the white flowers in his mothers garden, to the kind of chocolate you would always pick out from a bowl of sweets before anything else.
Vernon showed love in a lot of different ways, and he had known from the moment he met you, that he loved you.
The two of you had always understood each other, unlike most people you were not put off by his quiet nature. Instead you saw it as a safe place to be yourself, which had always meant you would talk his ear off with whatever had caught your attention that day or week.
And his favorite pastime was to listen to the things you had discovered and the things that brought you joy.
It didn’t matter to him that people didn’t understand him or his soul, because as long as you did, he knew that he would be okay.
As he had grown older his thirteenth birthday had started to loom over him as a dark cloud, it held so much promise and so much anxiety. So when he had woken without any kind of mark he had been a little disappointed at first.
But when your birthday had come and gone and no mark was on your skin either he clinged to the hope that the two of you were in fact each other’s other halves.
The days following he had started to notice that he hurt himself more often than usual, which was weird because the pain usually seemed to come at times where he was certain he did in fact not stump his own toe.
And when he started to notice the bruises on your legs seemed to match where he hurt himself that hope in his chest grew, and despite that he grew more and more certain for each passing day, he never spoke up.
When Vernon had left his home behind to train under Pledis the two of you had hugged each other goodbye with tears in your eyes. And you had squeezed his hand thrice.
“It means that I miss you, and that I love you” you had said with a blush on your cheeks.
His heart had felt like it was about to explode right then and there. All he did was return the three squeezes and as soon as he had, he had caught you as you once again threw yourself into his arms.
The training was hard, it took stamina, motivation and a tough skin. The guys were all kind, and as the days passed they all got closer and closer.
When the talk of their soulmate marks finally came he had chosen to keep you to himself, not because you were a secret, they had all heard the stories of his best friend back home, but he was not ready to share the hope in his heart with anyone yet.
He was not ready for anyone to pressure him to confess the feelings he had. He was not ready for anyone to push him down a hole of despair if he was wrong. So instead his brothers knew you as his best friend.
It took years before anyone finally noticed how his eyes shone brighter when he talked about you, and how he had a special smile and laugh reserved for whenever he talked to you.
Joshua had been sitting in the studio while Minghao was in the booth, quietly observing his younger brother as you had been talking to one another on a facetime call. It had become a weekly occurrence after you had moved overseas. One he had explained as just wanting to keep in touch with an old friend, when Mingyu had asked with suspiciously raised brows.
As the time difference finally caught up to you, and you had fallen asleep, Joshua had seen how Vernon's hand had reached out to gently caress your cheek on the screen before silencing the call to not disturb your sleep.
“You love her” he had said with a quiet voice.
Vernon's head had quickly turned towards his brother in a panic, cheeks reddening as his brain tried to come up with an excuse for the action.
Joshua had only smiled at his brother. “Is she your soulmate?” He had asked as he crooked his head a little to the left.
Vernon had coughed once. “I don’t know”
“She’s your best friend, how can you not know?”
He shrugged once as he completely left Minghao behind in the booth, leaving the man as one giant question mark when no music and no direction came his way.
“We’ve never discussed it. I’ve never had the heart to talk to her about it, because what if she’s not? It would be devastating knowing she belonged to someone else, that she wasn’t mine…”
He looked down at his hands, completely avoiding his brother's gaze. Then the door opened and Minghao stepped in, and just as he was about to scold his producer for the day, he physically felt the tension in the room, and locked in.
“But what if she is?” Joshua said as he moved over on the couch to make room for Minghao.
Vernon buried his head in his hands as he took a deep breath.
“Leave him Joshua, love is difficult enough, and I’m sure he has thought over every scenario more than a thousand times”
He quickly looked up at his two brothers with raised brows. “How did you know?”
Minghao only laughed. “You’re not exactly subtle you know? If it helps I’m pretty sure the feelings are reciprocated”
That sentence made him smile as he leaned back in his chair and once again looked at your sleeping face on his phone screen.
“They say you can physically feel a pull in your chest when you meet your soulmate, do you feel that with her?” Joshua asked.
He nodded. “I’ve felt that with her since before I got my mark, but it’s been so long I’m not sure if it’s something I’ve made up or if it’s actually there”
Minghao nodded before he once again stood up. “You won't know until you tell her”
Much like Vernon you were terrified that a confession would lead to you losing your best friend, because what if his mark was different from yours? It would be the biggest heartbreak.
So instead you had been subtle with your interest in him. You complimented for his music, which only seemed to make him pursue it more and suddenly he told you that he had taken your advice and had started producing and writing music.
You complimented his clothes one time and now it seemed that his entire closet was only filled with polo shirts and jeans.
You had thanked him one morning for staying on facetime with you even though you had slept for hours, and now he refused to be the one to hang up.
It was these small things that always made you wonder if he did in fact love you the way you had always loved him.
From the very beginning there had been a pull there, something that made you look twice whenever you heard his voice. A pull that made you know he had entered a room before he made himself known.
When his mark came he said nothing, and when yours came he didn’t say a single thing either. For a while you wondered if that meant he didn’t want it to be you, but he only seemed to give you more attention from that day.
When he moved away a part of your heart had moved with him, it felt as if you weren’t quite whole, and when you moved overseas that feeling had taken up more and more space in that uncomplete heart of yours.
But those three squeezes you had given his hand when he had left, was now a part of your daily routine, because he had started to pinch his own hand thrice afterwards, an action you felt everyday.
When the guys started to find their other halves Vernon started to yearn for you even more than he had done before.
Both Minghao and Joshua had been slightly annoyed with him at first, his other half was right there, loving him just as he loved her, yet he refused to do anything about it.
Their annoyance had however disappeared as soon as they had found their other halves. Which had led to that exact moment of him now waiting for you in an airport.
He had invited you to stay with him a few weeks after Joshua had found his other half. You had some time off, and he missed you so terribly that he had personally bankrolled your entire trip.
Despite all of your protests, you had let him spoil you, because you too wanted to see him.
Vernon wasn’t one to run to you in the airport, instead he stood in a corner with crossed arms, and the second you were within reach he had pulled you as physically close to him as he could.
Letting the smell of you engulf him as he took a minute to breath you in, all the while he tried his best to convince that little heart of his to calm down.
It was as if a part of his soul had returned to him, as if he for the first time in a year could take a full breath.
As the two of you pulled away from one another, he gently took your suitcase and with your now free arm you grabbed onto him as if you had done it every day of your life. You felt him stiffen beneath your touch, and for a second you considered if it was too much too soon.
But as soon as you started to let go of him, he captured your arm with his own, and you soon felt the two of you relax into each other's touch.
You had decided on the flight that this was the trip where you found out just who he was to you. If he was your other half, if he was your person.
The two of you talked all the way back to his apartment, and due to all the late night and early morning facetime calls there was no real awkward silence. You just picked up the conversation right where you had left it.
When you got there your stomach made a loud sound and you went straight for the kitchen, and slowly started pulling ingredients out of the cupboards all the while he sat down at the kitchen island to keep you company.
It was so natural being with him. It was a feeling of being both safe and feeling utterly excited all at once.
His phone made a sound. Have you confessed yet? the message read from Joshua.
He quickly shut his phone off, it didn’t matter that you were too occupied with making dinner and couldn’t see it.
No, he had planned all of this out. Tonight he wanted to just enjoy the two of you together, and tomorrow he would take you on a trip down memory lane, a trip through your friendship with one another, a trip through every major emotion he had ever felt towards you, and then he would…
He felt the gust of wind coming from the door of the fridge as you slammed it shut. But before he had a chance to even look up and figure out just what you were doing, he felt the pain.
The pain of four of his fingers being caught in the door of a fridge. He winced from it, and without even thinking about it he was right there by your side in a second.
“Are you hurt?” he scanned your face, as he saw how the tears welled in your eyes.
His own hurt hand came to caress your cheek, and dry the tears away.
“What the hell are you thinking darling?” His eyes searched yours for answers as you didn’t answer him with words.
Your tears just kept falling, so in the end he just pulled you into his chest as he gently let a hand run through your hair.
He heard you mumble something into his chest, he hummed slightly to make you repeat your words as he adjusted his stance so he could hear you without letting you go.
“You felt it…” It wasn’t much louder than a whisper, but it was enough for him to stiffen.
He pulled you away from his chest and looked down at those still tearfilled eyes.
He took your hurt hand with his, and kissed the exact places the door had made contact. His own eyes had filled with tears so when he looked at you, his eyes mirrored his own.
“I’ve felt everything, every tiny bit of pain, every sumped toe, every corner or door frame you have walked into. I’ve felt all of the pinches and squeezes that come in three that you’ve sent my way. I’ve felt every bit of it, and I’ve hoped and hoped that it was you sending all the pain to me, so that I one day could feel the world's greatest pleasure of finally calling you mine”
Your arms flung around his neck and he pulled you closer than ever before, fully ready to claim as much as you as you allowed.
It wasn't that this scenario was particularly funny, but the sheer relief of finally being able to express how you felt freely knowing that he felt the exact same, knowing that he always had.
He lifted you up from the ground and set you down on the kitchen table.
He kissed you left cheek once. Then your right. He nuzzled his nose against yours before finally looking at you with those eyes. Those dammed eyes.
He kissed your lips once, quick, then once more. For every kiss they became longer and more passionate, and before you knew it he had laid you down on the surface and were crawling over you as his lips claimed every bit of skin he had access you.
The sounds you made were the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, and he knew now that he would never run out of inspiration ever again.
The two of you had spent the entire night entangled in one another, catching up on years of intimacy.
Your head gently rested on his chest, as his hand gently caressed a shoulder. He was silent, just looking at the ceiling.
“How am I ever gonna leave you tomorrow?” The question wasn’t really aimed at you, but you twisted around and rested your chin on him as you took him in.
If you could, you would take a mental picture of him like this. Eyes shining, messy bed head and a subtle shine on his skin.
You smiled and he returned it before his hand left your shoulder for your hair and he gently started playing with it.
“We’ll have a lifetime to catch up on those few years we missed”
You physically saw his pupils dilate. “Say that again”
His voice was quiet, gentle.
“You will have a lifetime with me”
Vernon was anything but exhausted when he was finally back in the practice rooms of the HYBE building.
It was as if this had been the boost he had been missing. He was more energetic and more vocal than he had been in quite a while.
Joshua and Minghao had both given each other a knowing look when he had entered that morning with a smile on his face and that well known spark in his eyes. There was no doubt that your visit had gone the way they had all hoped that it would.
The two of you had made a plan, that you would stop by around lunch time and that he would finally introduce you to all of his brothers as his other half.
All thirteen of them had known and met you through both calls and facetime, but this would be the first time that you would actually meet.
He got more and more excited the closer the time came. And when he got the text message that you were officially on your way, that well known smile of his, was on full display.
“I’m assuming that everything went well?” Joshua said as he leaned against one of the walls, close to the corner where Vernon had fled to, to respond to you.
“Yah, hyung… It was everything and more than I could’ve dreamed of” He looked up from his phone and smiled.
Joshua returned it. “So when are you gonna introduce her to everyone?”
“She’s on her way, should be here soon. I just have to get her, her pass and everything so I might need to step out for few minutes”
His older brother nodded. There was pride blooming in Joshua’s chest, pride that his brother finally showed his love what he had held in his heart for so long.
“What did she say about the grand gesture?” He asked with a raised brow.
Vernon only smiled. “We never really got that far” it was almost as if he was taken back to that moment once again, as if he was reliving it once more.
His eyes glassed over, and he silently bit his lip.
“Damn” Joshua said, and luckily for Vernon it was enough to snap him back to reality.
He felt it then, those three little pinches on his hand. He smiled and as he opened his mouth to speak the pinches continued.
It was panicked, desperate. His smile stiffened and his eyes lost all of it’s spark, to him it felt as if time itself were moving in slowmotion.
“Something’s wrong… Josh, find her”
Then the pain hit his body, instant, out of the blue and overall all consuming, and everything became dark.
Something heavy was laying on his legs when he finally woke up, he moved and heard a silent whine as whoever the person was hugged him tighter.
He opened his eyes to find Chan there, silent but grateful tears streaming from his eyes.
“Hyung, how are you feeling?” He said with a sad smile.
Vernon didn’t respond, instead he searched every part of his soul for that small light that was you, and it was still there that thread of light that connected the two of you.
Jihoon laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Take your time little brother, we got you”
And as Vernon looked around the room he saw half of his brother's eyes, all worried, some red, some tired.
Minghao ran a hand through his hair gently. “She’s okay, she’s in the next room”
Vernon tried to speak but his throat was too dry to get a word out.
“A car ran a red light, two streets over, Joshua was there before the paramedics, he and the rest haven’t left her side since”
It felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders. You were safe, you were okay.
“Ho-how l-lo” Was all he managed to get out before Seungcheol came with a glass of water.
“It’s only been one night, the last update we got was that she was still out like a light”
He tried to sit up but his entire body was sore and hurting.
“I need to get to her” he said with a groan, if this was how he felt, he knew you were feeling so much worse.
It was his job to take care of you. His job to protect you. As much as he treasured his brothers for looking out for you, he needed it to be him.
“You need to rest” Seungkwan said as he dried his nose.
“Are all of you seriously telling me you would not run to your soulmates had you been in my situation?” He couldn’t help but laugh, but the sound was hallow, almost cold.
The six men looked between them, a silent conversation that ended with Seungcheol getting a wheelchair.
It took them so long to get him out of bed and over to the chair, and as soon as he was in it he was out the door.
Mingyu opened the door to your room with a little smile and a pad on his back. He was by the side of your bed in less than a second.
He reached out and grabbed your lip hand, and then the 12 members of Seventeen watched as their brother fell apart.
“Don’t you dare never waking up from this, don’t you fucking dare” he said between the kisses he placed on the back of your hand.
Seokmin turned his eyes up to the ceiling to not let his tears fall.
“She’s a fighter, she’ll come back to you” Jun said as he gently stroked his brothers back with soothing strokes.
“You are mine, and I am yours. In every life before this and every life after”
He gently raised a hand to remove a strand of hair from your face.
“You promise?” A hoarse and low voice said.
“Oh thank fuck” it was the only thing he could think of saying, he could hear how the room shifted then, how his brothers left the room to give you the privacy you both deserved.
It didn’t matter that his body ached every time he moved, nothing mattered except you.
He gently moved you enough so that he could fit on the bed you were laying on.
He could feel your body ache as you stretched your arms to hold him.
Every move he made was slow and focused on hurting you as little as possible.
“I’m so glad you’re okay” he whispered into your hair as he breathed you in. Despite the very distinct hospital smells, you still smelled like you always had. You still smelled like home.
“I’m never leaving you - if we go we go together”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s a little morbid, don’t you think?”
He could feel your smile. “Maybe a little, but if you ask me I think it’s a brilliant plan”
As usual he had to agree with you.
As you recovered he never left your side. He was there to hold your hand through ever test and scan.
There was no doubt in your mind that the hospital staff couldn’t wait until you were discharged, but he refused to let you leave before they had checked everything twice.
It meant that your first meeting, your first awake meeting, with all his brothers happened in a hospital room.
“Joshua” you said with a huge smile as he stepped forward with an otherworldly beauty on his arm. “I remember you”
Joshua had gotten to you so fast that you could actually remember seeing his face before you passed out.
He nodded. “Yeah, don’t think I’ve ever moved as fast as that day” the woman next to him rested her head on his shoulder.
“My hero” she said as she pulled him close to her.
Vernon nodded. “Mine too”
Your soulmate gently kissed your temple.
The guys had competed for second place, and had boasted proudly of just how they had taken care of you and Vernon the days after the accident.
Their bickering was entertaining, and absolutely hilarious. Vernon had to send them out multiple times because they made you laugh so hard that your whole body physically hurt.
The girls had been stoked that they now had a 12th sister to talk to, and each and every one of them had given you a little gift as welcome to the group.
Your heart felt full of love, and despite the room being filled to the brim most days it had everything to do with him.
Through it all he was there, right next to you, loving you, as he always had, as he always would.
✦ as always; please comment, like, share, reblog all of that. It what's keeps me going and keeps me writing. My asks are always open for feedback or if you just wanna give me a little praise.
so guys I swear I’ve written jeno’s story right but but finals 😾 and also maybe it isn’t done yet :((( like I’m trying to get them to meet but they’re so in their own worlds 😞😞
I think it’s normal to feel this way? I literally told my sister yesterday that when all the members come back as 7, I’m going to the Dream concert. Sigh, a part of me is asking why he couldn’t just stay or take a break or anything. But realistically, I think we all know that SM would never have given him the break he needed from all those groups. He wouldn’t ever get the rest he needed until he left. He’s given so many years of his life to this industry. And he’s changed it and the lives of so many people. We love you, Mark Lee 🤧. I hope you’ve made enough money to pay for everything for everyone you care about in your life and yourself. If not, we’ll always be here so drop an album or whatever and we’ll give you more of our money!!
Today of all days is crazy work, but we both know that Easter is around the corner, so :)))
notes: hi everyone!! i’m bao and this is my first time writing a full out story :)) i don’t think there’s any warnings, it’s pretty much just fluff, while it’s technically a x reader, she has characteristics that don’t apply to everyone, I js found it easier to write from second person for these stories so sorry if that’s not what you’re looking for!!
this is installation #1 of the soulmate search series!! find the master list here
final note, the dreamies and other characters will refer to Chenle’s soulmate as Daydream
In the world of soulmates, most people get their mark when they turn 7. If you have a physical soulmate indicator, you would get it on your birthday. If you have a non-physical soulmate indicator, it manifests when the younger soulmate turns 7.
Chenle's soul mark, in particular, wasn't super obvious. But it might have had something to do with the fact he could fluently speak and understand English. Sure, it technically could've been attributed to his English tutor, schooling, or even him practicing songs in English, but no kid just suddenly learns a language practically overnight the year he turns 8. That's why his mother was so surprised when he started muttering in a completely different language, when he was supposed to be practicing a song in his room.
"Ah I see, the tone is more like..." he said under his breath.
"Chenle? Are you mumbling? Why are you speaking like that?"
Trying to respond to her, he realized that she couldn't understand what he was saying. Honestly, he hadn't even realized he wasn't speaking Mandarin. So, Chenle and his family (rightly) assumed that his soulmate might speak English. To be honest, it's a bit hard to find your soulmate based on that, millions of people speak English. How was he even supposed to find you? But it was fine for now, he had other things to worry about, like singing at the Golden Hall in Vienna.
You, on the other hand, had absolutely no clue for at least a week after you turned 7. Realizing that no mark appeared on your body or any sudden changes to your behavior happened, you felt quite disappointed. It got to the point where your parents noticed, and wanting to cheer you up, took you to your favorite restaurant for dinner.
Growing up in San Francisco had its benefits, for example, the country's oldest and largest Chinatown was there. Your favorite restaurant happened to be a dim sum restaurant there, which wasn't too far from where you lived. Walking in together, your family sit down and was greeted by some of the older ladies with food carts walking around. When they came to your table, they started asking which dishes you wanted.
You rattled off the usual, "Could I get an order of hacao, xiu mai, and shrimp cheung fun each?"
Looking up at your parents, you were puzzled why they were looking at you weirdly. Before you decided to look at them weird back, you thought back on what you sounded like just now. Turns out, you had been speaking perfect Mandarin to the ladies. This was quite the surprise as before you were only fluent in English. Despite being Korean-American, you were only able to understand your parents and could only speak the most basic of phrases. From then on, your dad would keep making jokes about how your Mandarin was better than your Korean, and how he didn't know where they picked you up.
Just like Chenle, this also didn't really help with finding who your soulmate was. If anything, more people spoke Mandarin than English. But it was okay, you're 7, you got better things to do, like learning how to play basketball or learning how to crochet cute animals.
As the two of them got older, their soulmark became a bit clearer. When Chenle moved to Korea to train under SM, he realized that he was able to understand Korean almost perfectly. The problem was that he couldn't actually speak it super well, he realized this must reflect where his soulmate was with the language. Soon enough, you realized a difference in your Korean too. Your parents pointed out that you actually were improving a lot, almost as if you had immersed yourself in a Korean only environment. This tipped you off that your soulmate was learning the language.
It was a bit embarrassing because you were supposed to be the actual Korean, so it incentivized you to practice and take it a lot more seriously. You told your parents it was because you were embarrassed, but really maybe a small part of you knew he was struggling without anyone being able to understand him. And that little part of you wanted to alleviate that burden as fast as possible, so you did your best to quickly improve upon what you already knew, so maybe he could communicate just a bit better.
After being able to connect back to your roots as a Korean, something in you shifted. You realized how blessed you were that you were able to connect with others through the languages you knew. Over the years, you could understand Shanghainese and speak Mandarin, English, and Korean fluently. Your experiences of being able to speak with the older ladies in the Chinatown, as well as with your parents in Korean, helped you understand what you wanted to do with your life.
When you were graduating high school, you applied and got into UCLA as a double major in Korean and Mandarin. Because of your fluency, you were able to graduate in two and a half years. During your senior year, you were given the chance to study abroad in Korea at Yonsei. You decided with your major that you would stay in South Korea, working as a translator.
Life as an idol was interesting for Chenle, he had debuted pretty much immediately after training, so it was a bit hard trying to work on his Korean. Luckily for him, you were also working on it, so he picked it up pretty fast compared to other foreign members. Him being able to speak English was something that was kept on the down low from fans. As he knew it had to do with his soulmate, the company decided it would be better if he mainly talked in Korean or Mandarin.
Even to members, he would only use English phrases here or there, or even to tease and copy Mark. He wouldn't know until Johnny pointed it out, but Chenle actually spoke like someone who lived in California. From the way he would say some of his vowels to slang used in the States to the filler words that came out, Mark would tell him that he had a "valley girl" accent.
"Like dude I am telling you, it's crazy, you sound like you're from the West Coast." Mark said, impressed. "Like that's an accent a lot of Canadian girls like."
He didn't know how to feel about that. Yes, he could communicate what he was thinking in his mind, but the way it came out would actually more closely resemble the way you spoke. Not that either of you knew that though.
"I mean, like, it's not like I can just find any girl who speaks English, you know? It's okayyyy man, at least it helps me understand Steph Curry's posts. And like I don't even have to wait for translations about his gameplay, because I can understand it like superrr perfectly." Chenle said, shrugging his shoulders.
Jisung walked in as they were talking, passing them and reaching into his bag for the small towel he carried around.
"Why are we speaking in English? Aww man, my hair is dripping down my clothes now." He complained as he tried to dry it fast. "Oh course, right before we're filming, my soulmate decides to take a shower."
Chenle laughed at him, putting what they were talking about into the back of his mind. It was funny watching Jisung's personal hair stylist fluttering around him, trying to quickly fix his damp hair. Plus today, they had schedules to get to, no time to wonder about his soulmate and what they'd be like.
After graduating, you got a job at SM Ent. as a translator. As a newbie, you were assigned to subtitles for the various videos released by artists, as well as some lives. It was through these videos that you started to have a very deep appreciation for the artists under the company.
Even though you were assigned only one or two of them, your favorite videos to translate were for NCT Dream. Their dynamic and the content they created sat well with you. Because of the short amount of time you spent in college, you never got to get super close with any group of friends, or even the intramural basketball team you played for back in California. Even when you weren't working, sometimes you'd be playing one of their videos in the background for when your apartment got too quiet.
You swear that you're a professional, yet you couldn't help but be drawn to a certain, happy and loud boy. You admired Chenle. Not only for how his beautiful voice, but also for how he managed to keep such a positive attitude and be 100% himself. He was also totally your type. You hadn't really translated any of his personal lives or anything, as you were usually assigned to Ningning from aespa, but he seemed like a great person from afar.
At least he was afar, until you got assigned to be the English translator for the Dream Show 2. They were about to start the Europe leg in London, when the original translator came down with COVID-19. While she hadn't come into contact with any of the artists and most of the staff before her diagnosis, they had to quarantine her for at least a few weeks after she got better. Due to the stellar recommendation of Ningning and the aespa girls, you were chosen to replace the English interpreter for the rest of the tour.
While they were all already in London preparing, you flew in last minute, and didn't have a chance to meet them before the concert started. When talking with some of your colleagues, translators that worked with NCT Dream before said they were nice boys and that they always got a kick out of when a translator would match their tone and sounds. This was perfect, because that was the way you preferred to translate.
In the arena, you were stationed near the side stage, close to those working the sound system. The room was with a few other people such as tour managers and the arena staff. You had a microphone, a laptop for note taking, and an in ear to everything that went through the mics of the artists.
As the concert went on, you made sure to keep calm and do your best to relay the intentions of the artists to the fans. Mark already spoke English, so that was one member you didn't have to worry about. The other members would say English phrases at times, but you would translate from Korean for them. As your colleagues said, the boys really liked when you would copy the sounds they made or the way they said things. Fans would laugh at how you did your best to copy them, and the boys had a blast trying to one up you.
"Our Czennies are sooOOooooOOOoooooOO loud tonight!" Jaemin proclaimed energetically. You did your best to copy him, sounding a bit strained as you tried to match the random notes he assigned to his words. Chenle smiled super wide, and started correcting your notes, and repeating it back to you till you got it right.
It was about halfway through the concert when you realized that Chenle was speaking in English.
"Like thank you so much to our most amazingest fans! You guys are literally the best!"
Hearing him really surprised you, because the way he was speaking felt really really familiar. During a small break, you accidentally ran into Renjun, knocking the cup of water you were carrying on the floor.
"Ah, shit- I am so sorry," he said starting in Mandarin before switching to Korean.
"Don't worry about it, I'll clean it up, you're performing soon," you replied in Mandarin.
As he hurried off, he had an odd thought. Why did that staff member sound a lot like how Chenle would speak to him? He understood the meaning from her words, but the way she delivered it was reminiscent of how the younger Dream member spoke. He absentmindedly fiddled with the invisible ring around his thumb, as he made his way back to the dressing room deep in thought.
Little did he know, Mark was having the same thought. The boy was currently sitting on a couch, waiting for the members, and reading through the latest message in his journal. After hearing you translate most of the concert, he had come to the conclusion that your English was just like Chenle's. While you tried your best to be very accurate and direct when translating for other people, you occasionally would slip into your accent or way of speaking without changing the meaning. He wrote down a reply to the message and a small note to himself about that.
Since Mark knew a tad more than most of the other members how language was a big part of Chenle's soulmate indicator, he decided to ask him about it. He got up from the dressing room couch, tucked away the journal in his hands to his bag, and made his way over to the clothing rack.
"Do you think the translator sounds familiar?" he asked Chenle as the clothing stylist adjusted his jacket's chains for the next set.
Thinking back, Chenle's thoughts on what the translator sounded like were limited to how pretty her voice was and how cute she sounded trying to keep up with their banter. Though, if he really thought about it, Mark was right. Renjun came in as he was thinking, and commented on how he bumped into a girl who spoke to him in Mandarin.
"For real? You bumped into her? You could've at least helped her dude, c'mon man." Mark said, raising an eyebrow.
"She insisted, but the weird thing is I know every staff member who speaks Mandarin, she's new. And she actually speaks a lot like Chenle." Renjun noted as he looked into the mirror and fiddled with something on his head. Chenle brushed it off as probably the jewelry on Renjun none of them couldn't see.
"Wait wait wait, so she speaks English, like Chenle can, and Korean, like Chenle does, and even Mandarin, like Chenle would...do you think she could be his soulmate?" Jeno connected from listening to the members around him talk. He was petting his soul pet, a cat, on his lap.
This was a bitttt too much of a coincidence for him, so Chenle decided he should probably find this translator after the show. He tried not to get his hopes up as he thought of the pretty voice that must belong to a pretty girl who could be his pretty soulmate.
Before heading back out, the staff did one last check as the boys had the standardized wrist bandages applied to cover up any potential marks. Haechan looked down at his wrist, and touched it gently before getting back into his performer mindset. As the show went on, Chenle went out of his way to try to interact with the translator as much as he could. He wanted to hear more and more of your voice.
"Are you guys ready for our next song, Candyyyyyyy!" You said in English after Haechan teased it for the fans. "Ms. Translator, can't you sing for us a few lines of Candy?" Chenle asked cheekily in Mandarin.
"Uhh, I don't think my singing is very good." You replied after repeating what he asked you for the fans.
"Wow, the interpreter is doing good today!!"
"Do you like yogurt shakes?"
"Our fans are having a great time, right? Is the interpreter having a good time too?"
"Who's your favorite member?"
"Where'd you learn Mandarin, you sound so fluent, are you Chinese?"
Seeing the managers look at you weirdly, you tried to keep your cool and keep these interactions short by trying to divert focus back to the concert. Maybe noticing your answers staying very short, he pouted and resigned himself to speaking with you after the concert. As they finished their planned sets, and with their goodbyes to the fans, NCT Dream had successfully finished the concert.
The lights dimmed as the screens slowly closed with the members waving goodbye. At the last moment, you moved from your spot on the side stage behind the screen. Seeing movement to his right, Chenle quickly glanced that way, before locking eyes with a girl. In that moment, it felt like everything dulled around him, except for her. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and he was literally an idol surrounded by good looking members.
For you, as the concert was ending, you started to clean up your things, handing back your equipment to the staff. As you turned toward where the NCT Dream boys were standing, you locked eyes with Chenle. God, he was even better looking up close. Before you could even greet them, it felt like all you could focus on was him. All of your sense heightened on his existence, like it was the only thing that mattered anymore. Then he started glowing? Confused, you tore your eyes off of him to realized you were also glowing.
Oh. He was your soulmate.
Wait. Your soulmate is Chenle, like idol Chenle, like Chenle from NCT Dream. Like under the company you work for. Trying to process this, you barely noticed the looks of surprise, knowing, and shock from those around you. When you came back to the land of reality, Chenle had already grabbed your hand, and you guys were running. The glow subsided once you made physical contact, and it was as if it was never there.
"Where are we running to?" You asked as you did your best to keep up with his long strides. While it wasn't super hard to keep up as you regularly did running when playing basketball, he was able to cover a lot more ground than you were.
"Wherever there's no one around, so I can be the first one to talk to you," he replied looking around for a more private spot. You let out a small laugh, and tried to help him find somewhere. Both of you decided on a waiting room, and closed the door behind you. Catching your breath, you couldn't help but admire the boy next to you.
You found him looking right back at you, with a clear fondness. "You're even better than I could have ever imagined," he said sweetly, "even if I have a "valley girl" accent."
You smiled, "So our Korean got better because you started training at SM?" He took your hand, and nodded. "Probably? I was surprised I could understand everyone, but not speak."
You sheepishly covered your face, explaining that your parents had always spoken Korean around you, but you weren't the best at speaking it back to them. "But, when I realized that you were trying to learn it, I wanted to help. I didn't know why you were speaking it, but I didn't want you to be misunderstood and unable to communicate."
The boy looked at you, eyes bright, endeared by how well you understood him without knowing him. "I know this might be sudden, but I really want to kiss you right now."
With a grin, you took his face into your hands. This was the face you were going to look be able to look at for the rest of your life. You couldn’t wait. You kissed him softly, savoring the feeling of his warm hands pulling you close.
Of course, you both had kissed other people before, but this was different. It wasn't fireworks. It felt like home, it felt like cuddling inside when it storms outside, it felt like drives home together after a group dinner with close friends. It was a promise to the life you would build together.
Pulling away, he took your hand in his. As he brushed the hair out of your face, he whispering that you almost couldn't hear him, "I can't believe you're actually here, it's like I'm in a Daydream."
You smiled widely, "Would another kiss help with convincing you this is reality?" You clearly caught him off guard as you watched his ears turn red in real time. As he opened his mouth to retort, a knock on the door caused your heads to snap towards the sound. You could already hear the loud "whispers" of the members, eager to meet you.
After checking that you were okay with meeting them, he put on a judgmental face and opened the door. "You guys better be nice, don't scare her," he said in a deadpan.
"Yo dude, I promise I already told them to be chill," Mark reassured him as they let themselves into the room. Chenle did not look convinced by this.
As you suddenly became surrounded by a bunch of boys, you had to quickly try to keep up with all the questions and comments they were practically rapping out. Jaemin started off the chaos by quickly hugging you, picking you up, and spinning. As you got a hold of yourself after the sudden merry-go-round, he started speaking.
"Ah it is so so so nice to meet you! You're the first soulmate in Dream! So do you work for the company? Where did you get your eye shadow, it is so cute? Hehehe do you already have a crush on Chenle?" He asked wiggling his eyebrows conspiratorially.
As you were about to answer, your attention was brought to Jisung. He was looking at you with amazement, like he had never seen a girl before. "Wah, you're so short. Are all our soulmates gonna be like that?"
Taken aback by the comment about your height, you heard Mark and Haechan talking to each other. "Man, can you believe Chenle was the first one to find his soulmate?" Mark said in disbelief.
"Yeah, with you being ancient and all, I totally thought you would be next," Haechan teased before Mark turned to look at him and grabbed him pretending to start a fight.
Deciding it was rude that you weren't responding, you did your best to answer Jaemin's question about the company and your eye shadow. He noticed you didn’t answer his question about a crush and smiled widely.
Before he could press you on it again, you were surprised as something jumped into your arms. It was a black cat with the most soft fur and smelling of vanilla.
Suddenly, Jeno was right next to you, “Deiji!! Don’t jump at people when they didn’t open their arms for you." he made sure you were okay with holding her before he booped her little nose, "Silly kitty, it’s okay because she’s Chenle’s soulmate but you can’t do that to strangers okay?” You watched as she seemed to get bashful and meow like she understood.
“Sorry about her, I think she got really excited when she sensed you, and she came out of my skin. This is Deiji, my soul pet.” He explained when you looked at him curiously.
"Awww, she is so cute and soft and adorable! So pretty, yes you areeee" You said cuddling her as she purred and nuzzled up into you. Seeing that you were distracted by Deiji, Chenle slightly pouted.
Jisung noticed and sided up next to him. "So, how does it feel? You know, finding her." He unconsciously ran his fingers through his hair, before patting it down. It had become slightly wavy throughout the concert, despite his hairstylist's attempts to keep it straight and styled.
Chenle thought about it for a bit before replying, "It feels like finding more pieces to a puzzle I thought was already complete. It's only been an hour or two, but just having her by my side makes me feel more at ease. I still have so much to find out about her, and I am already so excited for every second of the rest of our lives."
Jisung nodded thoughtfully, and started thinking about his own soulmate. Before they could get too quiet, Mark, who had been scrolling on his phone, spoke up.
"Uhh guys? I think the fans got a glimpse of Chenle finding Daydream..."
From the perspective of the fans, the members were waving bye as the screen closed with them behind it, and just before it closed all the way, Chenle started glowing??? And because the lights were dimmed, the glow shone all the way from the stage to the back of the stadium. Fans started freaking out?? Because an idol just started glowing like a deep ocean fish out of seemingly nowhere?? To say he was trending within the hour was an understatement. Fans were tweeting, posting, and meme-ing clips of Chenle probably finding his soulmate.
#chenleisananglerfish #chenlesoulmatefound #shinebrightlikeadiamondchenle were all quickly at the top of trending.
When he checked his phone, it seemed to be blowing up with messages from friends, members, and family. Apparently, Seventeen's Jun and The8 had been on live during the end of the concert, and were informed by fans of both groups who flooded the chat. They were asking for details in their group chat with him and Renjun. Other members such as Kun had also texted him, congratulating him after asking if it was true. He quickly turned off his ringer, and sighed.
"Look like we're gonna be on the front page of Dispatch tomorrow," he said rolling his eyes, "and I'm sure the company is gonna wanna make a statement too." Seeing how tired he looked, you did your best to cheer him up.
"We can deal with all of that tomorrow, how about for just tonight we ditch all that?" You suggested, "We could go get a quick bite to eat and then maybe play basketball?" Embarrassingly, you realized how much you actually knew about him and his hobbies without working with him.
He quickly brightened at your idea, "You play basketball?" You laughed before telling him you had played in high school and a bit in college. "Whoever wins gets to plan and pay for our first day, unless you're sure I'll win, then I can just do it" you wagered.
"Oh, you are so on! You're going down, Daydream."
"Come at me big guy, you're about to get crushed!"
Jeno looked at them getting hyped up and riling each other up more and more, "Do they know they’re switching between three languages right now? And should we be worried that they'll always be getting into arguments?" Jaemin shook his head before smiling again, "Nah, they're totally into that."
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Seventeen's Reaction—Outing their relationship because of jealousy
Note from author: Hello my people. I have had this in my drafts for a hot minute, however, I got to say it must be my roughest work so far, so please be kind 🙂↕️🙂↕️. I really had to questions some of these mens sanity, but I hope YOU will enjoy.
Summary: ot'13 revealing their private relationship because of a jealousy/possessiveness slip out, reader is an idol/public person as well
Warnings: jealous?!, possessiveness???
1️⃣ S.Coups:
No, because why the hell did he think it was a good idea to appear with you on that podcast, the one known for pushing boundaries and asking the kind of questions that make idols squirm and agencies panic?
The two of you were already a fantasy couple in the eyes of the fans. You and Cheol had been shipped endlessly: fan edits, conspiracy theories, matching outfit analyses, the whole works. And ironically, it was those same rumours that had actually brought you two together in the first place. A joke here, a DM there, one stolen moment at an award show… and now here you were, dating quietly, secretly, seriously, all while the world thought it was just fanfiction.
And yet, here you sat, side by side at a podcast table, five cameras trained on your faces, lights hot above your heads, your shoulders just barely brushing. Pretending to be just friends. Pretending you didn’t sleep in his bed last night, or make coffee in his oversized t-shirt that morning. Pretending you weren’t his.
“So Y/N,” one of the hosts leaned in with a smirk. “What’s your ideal type? I feel like every idol that comes on this show says you’re their type, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard your side of things.”
You shifted uncomfortably in your chair. This was the kind of question you hated. A trap disguised as small talk. You gave a small laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear in that nervous habit he always teased you about.
“I guess… I really like the masculine type,” you said, keeping your voice neutral, hoping the answer was vague enough to slide past without triggering alarms.
But of course, they weren’t going to let it go.
“Ohh, so someone like Sehun from EXO?” the other host chimed in, grinning.
You didn’t even have time to respond before you felt the air shift next to you. Cheol’s head snapped in their direction so fast you swore you heard something crack. Your breath caught. Oh no. Here we go.
You knew this man. You knew his possessiveness, the way he couldn’t hide his emotions even if he tried. You’d had enough arguments over harmless interview questions and too-friendly male co-stars to know exactly where this was heading.
And now, they were turning to him.
“What about you, Cheol?” the host asked casually. “What’s your type?”
His jaw tightened, and his voice dropped half an octave. “Someone who feels like my match.”
That was Cheol-speak for don’t mess with me.
The host tried to push it, likely smelling tension and going in for the viral moment. “So, someone like…?”
“Someone like Y/N.” Cheol cut him off, sharp and deliberate.
No hesitation. No wink. No teasing tone.
Dead serious.
The silence that followed was deafening, the kind that made producers fidget behind the cameras and staff pretend they didn’t just witness an idol throwing gasoline on a PR fire.
You laughed, because what else could you do? You forced it, high-pitched and airy, the kind of laugh that said, haha, he’s just joking... right? But your pulse was in your ears.
Because you knew that look in his eye. That warning. That silent dare: ‘Say Sehun’s name again. I dare you.’
You didn’t look at him, because if you did, you might lose the thread of your act.
But inside, you were already bracing for the aftermath. Because with Cheol, this wouldn’t end on set. He wouldn’t yell. He wouldn’t pout. He’d sit you down, voice low and calm and terrifyingly controlled, and ask, “Do you really think it’s okay to play along when they couple you up with other men? Do I mean that little to you?”
And you'd hate how much that tone always got to you. How underneath it all was just a man terrified of losing something he tried so hard to keep hidden.
You didn’t say anything else for the rest of that segment.
And neither did he.
But his hand brushed yours under the table for just a second, not holding, not squeezing, just reminding.
Mine.
2️⃣ Jeonghan:
To everyone’s surprise, Jeonghan was the jealous type. Not the passive-aggressive kind, not the brooding and mysterious kind, no, Jeonghan was the full-volume, visible-from-space, very-much-in-his-feelings type. Grocery stores, parties, award shows, didn’t matter. If something felt off to him, you’d know.
Still, he’d never crossed that threshold. The one Joshua always warned him about.
“One day, someone’s going to flirt with her for real,” Joshua had once said, flipping a card during their monthly poker night. “And all those sarcastic little jokes you hide behind? They won’t be funny anymore. You’ll actually lose it.”
Jeonghan had rolled his eyes at the time, waving it off with a smirk.
“She’s not like that. I know her. I don’t need to worry.”
And he meant it. He did know you, trusted you blindly. Even though you were an idol, too, surrounded by people all the time, you had never once made him feel uncertain. Your loyalty to him was almost frustratingly graceful, not performative, not dramatic, just real.
So, when the two of you walked into a private restaurant that night for a few drinks with some mutual friends, stylists, a few idols, one of your group members, Jeonghan was in his element. Relaxed. Confident. One arm casually draped across the back of your chair, the other cradling a beer. He kissed your temple when you leaned in. You smiled and rested your hand on his knee.
Familiar. Solid.
But then, halfway through your second drink, the door swung open, and a small group of people walked in, and with them came a shift in the air Jeonghan couldn’t ignore.
Gray.
And a few other rappers from AOMG.
He didn’t think much of it at first. After all, you’d once been signed to AOMG before debuting under your current label. Jeonghan knew you had friends there. He didn’t even blink when you stood up with a soft gasp of excitement and walked over to greet them.
“She’s just being polite,” Jeonghan told himself, taking another sip of his beer.
But then Joshua leaned in from the other side of the table, eyes narrowing.
“Uh… is he still hugging her?”
Jeonghan’s eyes darted over, and sure enough, Gray’s arm was still around your shoulders, well past the casual hug window. His hand settled low on your back, thumb brushing slightly up and down as you talked, completely animated and unaware.
“Am I going crazy,” Jeonghan muttered, sucking the inside of his cheek, “or is he not letting go?”
Joshua let out a low breath, amused but observant.
“And that, my brother,” he said, raising his glass, “is what real jealousy feels like.”
Jeonghan didn’t respond. He stared a little longer, beer glass clenched a bit too tightly, before placing it down with a quiet thud.
He stood up.
You noticed him approaching before anyone else did.
“Hey,” you smiled, eyebrows raised slightly at his sudden presence.
“Hey,” Jeonghan replied, smile tight but charming. His tone was light, too light, as he shifted beside you. “Good to see you guys again,” he said, reaching out to shake Gray’s hand. A firm, deliberate handshake.
“Should we, uh… go grab some ice cream for the table?”
You blinked. “Don’t they serve dessert here?”
No answer. Jeonghan wasn’t looking at you, he was still looking at Gray, sizing him up with a lopsided grin and eyes just a little too low from the drinks. That’s when it hit you: this wasn’t about dessert. This wasn’t spontaneous. This was Jeonghan being jealous, truly jealous, for the first time.
The thought made your heart stutter a little. Not because it was romantic, but because… Jeonghan rarely lost composure. And right now, he was all nerves and ego in a pretty outfit.
You gently touched his arm.
“You know what?” you said, threading your fingers through his. “Let’s get that ice cream.”
His eyes flicked to yours. Searching. Relieved.
“Let’s go,” he said, instantly softening as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close.
You waved goodbye to the group, Jeonghan murmuring something polite as he guided you away.
As soon as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you looked up at him with a grin.
“So… ice cream?”
He huffed a laugh through his nose. “You saw that?”
“Saw it? Baby, your eyes were throwing daggers.”
“I didn’t like how he touched you,” he said quietly. “I know it was innocent, but… it made my chest feel like it was caving in.”
3️⃣ Joshua:
Another one of those "I would never get jealous" types ... yeah, right. Joshua might’ve fooled everyone else, but not you. Calm, collected, always the mediator in the group, the type to defuse tension with a smile or a perfectly timed joke. But when it came to you? That cool-headed persona was hanging by a thread.
It’s not like you hadn’t seen glimpses of it before, like the time he almost posted that half-naked, post-shower selfie of the two of you on his story. You'd practically tackled him for his phone while screaming bloody murder, heart rate skyrocketing, already envisioning your name trending for all the wrong reasons.
“Relax,” he’d said with the softest smile, not even flinching while you nearly cried from panic.
“Relax?! That photo had my entire shoulder and your collarbone in it. We’d be dead.”
“Would it be so bad?” he mumbled under his breath, not meeting your eyes. But you heard him. And you knew, deep down, he wanted to go public. He was just waiting on you. On your pace. On your comfort.
You were both idols. Both navigating careers under the microscope. And for him, especially, after a rough patch of rumors years ago, it was safer to keep things quiet. So you stayed hidden, stealing glances and brushing hands in passing hallways, only breathing fully in hotel rooms and late-night calls. That was your normal.
Until the HYBE games.
It was the perfect compromise: shared stage, public interaction, without setting off alarms. All your groups were there. Controlled chaos. Cameras everywhere, sure, but also laughter, noise, and plausible deniability.
You were with your group in the corner of the tent, chatting with your stylist about your next hair change, while the boys were doing their own prep nearby.
“Who wants to do the physical challenges?” Seungkwan asked, scribbling names down on the clipboard.
“Mingyu’s practically a walking gym membership. Let him do it,” Woozi mumbled, sipping from his water bottle.
“Joshua should go,” Vernon chimed in, gesturing toward the female groups. “They’re pairing boys and girls.”
Joshua looked up lazily, until his gaze froze. His eyes narrowed the moment he spotted Yeonjun standing at the other end of the track.
“I swear if they pair Y/n with him...” Hoshi smirked, patting Joshua on the back. “Might as well hand her over now, he’s already waiting at the finish line.”
Joshua didn’t say anything. But his jaw tightened. You were stretching by the start line, casually fixing your ponytail, wearing those stupid shorts your stylist insisted on, something about “freedom of movement and aesthetic.” He hadn’t cared at first. Until now.
“I’ll go,” he said quietly, standing and tossing off his jacket, heading over to the lineup without another word.
You noticed him approach as you tied your laces. “What is this round even about?” you asked Yunjin beside you.
“I think piggyback rides or something,” she said, stretching her arms. “Looks ridiculous but whatever. Team bonding, right?”
You were paired with Yeonjun. Of course.
It made sense, visually. Both of you had good chemistry on-camera, enough to get the fans screaming without being too suspicious. But Joshua… Joshua wasn’t a fan.
Even with a girl from another group on his back, his eyes never left you. Not once. He watched Yeonjun grip your thighs, your bare thighs, and run toward the finish line, your laughter echoing through the stadium speakers. His own challenge felt like a blur. All he could focus on was the way you looked, bright, happy, glowing, and not with him.
The heat of the day wasn’t what was making him sweat.
A few more challenges followed. Each one worse than the last, at least from his point of view. It wasn’t even jealousy that burned, it was frustration. Powerlessness. The helpless ache of watching something that was his get played out like fanservice for everyone else to enjoy.
Hours passed, but it was only a matter of time before he cracked.
You were grabbing a water bottle at the refreshment table, too caught up in a conversation with one of the girls to notice him approach at first. But you recognized that familiar cologne, clean, woodsy, subtle. Joshua. You turned, only to find him, Mingyu, and Dino walking your way.
“Hey,” you greeted them with a small smile.
Mingyu grinned and nodded. Dino waved.
But Joshua didn’t smile back. His expression was unreadable, calm, on the surface. But his eyes didn’t lie.
“Do you really have to wear those shorts?” he said, not looking directly at you as he leaned over the drink table, casually pretending to look for a juice box.
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just finally turned to look at you. His voice was lower this time. “Can’t you ask the stylist for something longer? You looked uncomfortable.”
“I looked fine,” you replied, taking a sip of water, your patience already thinning.
“Your mic pack kept shifting,” he added, eyes flicking down briefly. “It didn’t sit right.”
“Oh, so now you're an expert in stage outfits?” you scoffed. “What’s really bothering you, Joshua?”
Before you could take another sip, he reached out and lightly tugged the hem of your shorts downward, just an inch. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough to make your breath catch.
“Hyung,” Dino leaned in, trying not to laugh, “Not to be that guy, but… you’ve got two cameras pointed at you, and uh, your mic’s still on.”
Joshua froze.
You turned slowly, eyes widening. Mingyu pressed his lips together, trying not to burst out laughing, and quickly handed Joshua a random drink just to give him something to do.
You, on the other hand, were mortified. But also… your heart fluttered.
4️⃣ Jun:
Now listen, Wen Junhui is a gentleman through and through. The type who opens doors, remembers your coffee order, and adjusts his schedule just to hear your new demo before anyone else. He was immensely proud to call you his.
You weren’t just talented, you were established. An incredible vocalist whose songs had become emotional lifelines for fans. Even his members would hum your choruses under their breath. Every time Jun introduced you to someone, that little proud grin would bloom at the corners of his mouth like he couldn't help it.
But most people didn’t know.
Your relationship was, by mutual agreement, kept under wraps. The timing hadn’t felt right. When you first got together, Jun had just begun seriously pursuing his acting career. You both knew how fast public opinion could flip, and the last thing you wanted was to shift the spotlight away from something he’d worked so hard for.
You were okay staying in the background for a while. You loved him quietly. With loyalty. With patience. With all the grace that made Jun fall harder with each passing day.
But now, a year later, the secrecy had started to wear thin.
Jun was still careful, but not as subtle. Little comments, casual mentions in interviews, vague song choices during live streams. His biggest move yet? Publicly announcing you’d be his plus one for his latest movie premiere. Sure, you’d attend as friends, but it was a step.
The red carpet was a blur of flashing lights and shouted names. Jun walked ahead, nodding and waving, but always looking back to check on you.
You were gorgeous, but clearly uncomfortable, your heels clicking slower than usual, the short dress tugging at your confidence with each step.
Jun fell back beside you, lowering his head toward your ear so only you could hear him.
“You okay?”
You gave a soft smile, adjusting the clutch in your hand. “Yeah… just, these heels, plus this dress, and all these people watching... kinda makes me feel like I’m balancing on stilts.”
His eyes scanned the carpet quickly, then turned back to you. “You can hold my hand, you know?” he offered gently, the warmth in his voice grounding. “I’ll keep you steady.”
You laughed softly, dry but fond. “And out our relationship right here on the red carpet? I don’t know if I’m ready for a trending scandal.”
Jun nodded, chuckling. “Alright, adrenaline stays low tonight. No hand-holding. But I’m staying close.”
As the night went on, he was pulled into rounds of press interviews and photo ops, while you made conversation with a few familiar faces in the crowd. Still, you were always in his peripheral vision, a soft beacon in a sea of camera flashes and champagne.
But then, you disappeared from his line of sight.
When Jun finally caught sight of you again, his heart clenched.
You were backed into a quieter corner of the room with a man Jun didn’t recognize. Tall, confident, expensive-looking. He was standing too close, speaking just low enough to draw you in. You were smiling, laughing lightly, unaware of how the man’s eyes lingered, not on your face, but on your lips, your collarbone, your legs.
Jun’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but his gut twisted in that way it only did when he felt territorial. Not possessive. But protective.
"Goddamn," Xiong muttered from beside him, sipping casually from his drink. "You gonna let that guy keep drooling on your girl all night?"
Jun blinked, trying not to snap. “What?”
Xiong laughed under his breath. “I mean, he’s practically buttering her up like he doesn’t know she’s already taken.”
Jun didn’t need to hear more. His legs were already moving.
He slid into the space beside you as naturally as if he’d been there the whole time.
“Hey.” His voice was light, but his eyes were locked on the man. “I’m Jun.”
The guy turned toward him, extending a hand with smooth confidence. “Haoran. Big fan of your series, man.”
You beamed at Jun, unaware of the shift in his energy. “He was just saying how much he loved your role. Said you absolutely carried that rooftop scene.”
Jun smiled, too wide, too forced. He took Haoran’s hand, but his grip was firm, a bit too firm. “Thanks. That scene nearly killed me, honestly. But I’m glad it left an impression.”
You could feel the tension radiating off him now. His jaw was just a touch clenched, his smile too perfect. You gently touched his arm, grounding him.
“Hey,” you whispered, “You okay?”
Jun looked at you then, really looked. Your eyes were calm. You didn’t know what was happening. You weren’t flirting. You weren’t even aware of how incredibly attractive you were being to someone else.
And that somehow made it worse.
You were his. And yet… you weren’t. Not publicly. Not completely. He couldn’t even put his arm around you right now without raising suspicion.
Jun exhaled slowly, nodding. “Yeah, I just missed you for a second.”
Your smile softened. “I’m right here.”
He knew. But that didn’t make the storm in his chest any quieter.
5️⃣ Hoshi:
You and Hoshi had been announced as this year’s MAMA Awards co-hosts, alongside Jungkook from BTS and I.M from Monsta X, a lineup that had fans losing their minds. To them, it was perfect. For you? Well... it was complicated.
Because ever since that one chaotic variety interview, the one where I.M, a little tipsy on his second round of soju, casually mentioned you were his ideal type, you’d been tangled in a fandom-fueled ship with him. The clip went viral overnight. Edits, fanfics, ship names, matching photo comparisons, it never really died down.
You never took it seriously. Neither did he, honestly. It was the kind of throwaway comment idols make and forget by morning. But Hoshi? Hoshi never forgot.
He had a memory like a steel trap and the emotional depth of someone who laughs at things that hurt just a little too much. He joked about it, relentlessly, but you could always sense something underneath. Banter was his armour, and you learned to read between the lines.
Now, sitting in the dressing room for the MAMA hosts, the air was thick with pre-show tension and setting spray. One of your stylists was crouched near your boots, zipping them into place while you checked your cue cards for the third time. Hoshi lounged nearby on the small leather couch, phone in hand, legs spread in that overly casual pose that always gave him away when he was overthinking.
That’s when a staff member walked in, struggling to carry what looked like an entire garden’s worth of roses.
“Delivery for Y/N,” they announced cheerily, plopping the giant bouquet down on the floor with a theatrical thud. “These are from I.M and the Monsta X boys. He says congrats and good luck tonight.”
You blinked. “Oh my god,” you said, mouth slightly agape. “That’s... that’s so much.” The flowers looked like they belonged at a royal wedding, not a broadcast event.
You turned your head slowly toward Hoshi. He hadn’t moved. His eyes were locked on the bouquet, jaw tight, tongue pressing hard against the inside of his cheek.
That look. You knew that look.
He was pissed. Not playfully annoyed. Not dramatically jealous for laughs. Genuinely simmering quietly in his own head.
You didn’t comment. You didn’t tease. You didn’t say anything. Because you’d been with Hoshi long enough to know the signs. For most people, silence meant calm. For Hoshi? Silence meant run.
He didn’t explode. That wasn’t his style. He just sank deeper into himself, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, not saying a word.
The night that followed was a game of emotional gymnastics. The script was tight, the timing was brutal, and the interactions between you and I.M? A director’s dream, a boyfriend’s nightmare.
You saw Hoshi’s jaw flex when you made that scripted, flirtatious joke with I.M during the intro segment. It was harmless. Planned. Rehearsed. But when you turned back toward him, he wasn’t even pretending to smile. His fingers were white around the edges of his cue cards.
Then you noticed it, he had gripped them so tightly, his index finger had punched clean through the cardstock.
You barely held in a breath.
During commercial breaks, he barely looked your way. When you asked if your mic was sitting right, he nodded without even making eye contact. And when the camera wasn’t rolling, he stood just far enough away from you that it looked normal but felt cold.
It wasn’t the bouquet. It wasn’t even the joke.
It was the fact that he felt like he was watching someone else win a game he didn’t even know he was playing.
Later that night, backstage after the final curtain call, you found him pacing near the emergency stairwell, out of sight from cameras and crew.
“So,” he muttered without looking at you, “200 roses, huh?”
You crossed your arms. “Don’t do that.”
He laughed, but it was sharp. Not his usual sunshine laugh. “I’m not doing anything. Just making an observation. I mean, you’re clearly his type, right? He made that pretty clear, again.”
You stepped forward. “Soon…”
“Don’t.” His voice cracked slightly, and he finally looked at you. “Don’t act like I’m being crazy.”
You took a breath, steady. “You’re not crazy. But you’re not being fair either.”
He looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I hate that I can’t say what I want to say without it sounding like I’m insecure.”
You paused. “Then say it anyway. Say what you mean.”
He swallowed, jaw twitching.
“I don’t want to watch other men treat you like you’re available.”
6️⃣ Wonwoo:
“No, but you’re clearly not getting it.” You said, zipping up your bag with more force than necessary.
“No, babe…” Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, his gaze following your every move, “...I get it. I just don’t like it.”
“It’s not like I have control over every single thing they put me in,” you said, slinging the strap of your bag over your shoulder and heading for the door. Your tone was tired, more defeated than annoyed.
“Babe. Y/n. Please.” His voice softened, but there was an edge underneath as he caught your wrist before you could leave. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, grounding you in place. “I know you’re stressed. I’m not trying to make it worse, but…” He sighed through his nose, eyes flicking away for a second before locking back on yours. “Those skimpy outfits your stylist insists on… you know I’m not a fan.”
You exhaled slowly, your chest feeling heavy. Because the truth was… he was right. The MMA performance was coming up, and your stylist had decided that a complete image shift into the most sensual concept of your career would be the “big move” for your breakthrough stage.
Did you agree with it? Not at all. In fact, you were extremely uncomfortable. You’d argued, you’d tried to get the outfits toned down, but every request was brushed off with the same line, ‘This is what will make you go viral.’
And Wonwoo? He had been nothing but supportive since day one. His room walls were lined with your albums. He was always the first to stream your new music video, the first to hug you backstage after a show. He knew the industry wasn’t all glitter and roses, but he also knew you hated feeling reduced to your body on stage. And now, with millions watching, he was being asked to smile while his girlfriend danced in something that left very little to the imagination. While pretending that he did not know you.
Still, you didn’t want this to turn into a fight, so you gently squeezed his hand. “Wonwoo… I just need to get through this one. It’ll be fine.”
Fast forward to the performance day, and everything went flawlessly. Your vocals were steady, your moves sharp, and the crowd went wild. You’d expected some awkwardness, but the adrenaline of the stage had drowned it out. From your spot under the blinding lights, you’d even caught sight of Wonwoo in the audience, standing up with the rest of the idols, cheering along with that tiny proud smile of his.
But when you stepped down from the stage, makeup still warm on your skin and breath still heavy, the backstage atmosphere was… different.
“Goddamn, that was insane,” someone said behind Wonwoo, voice dripping with awe.
Another chuckled, “Yeah, I didn’t know whether to focus on those vocals or on how good she looked.”
It was a harmless comment on the surface, something you’d heard a hundred times before in the industry, but Wonwoo’s jaw tightened instantly. He didn’t even turn to look at them. He didn’t have to. You knew that subtle shift in his posture, the way his shoulders squared and his hands curled just slightly in his lap.
For someone as calm and collected as Wonwoo, it didn’t take much to see when his patience wore thin. He’d already swallowed his feelings about your outfit. Hearing other guys casually talk about you like that? That was the exact thing he’d been dreading.
His knee bounced, eyes fixed straight ahead, but you could feel the tension radiating from him. This wasn’t jealousy in the petty sense, it was protectiveness. It was the quiet, simmering frustration of someone who wanted your talent to be the thing people remembered first.
And right now, it was taking every ounce of his self-control not to turn around and say something.
You finally made your way to the assigned seat in the idols’ section after a quick outfit change, this time into a dress that was… well, far less covered than your stage outfit had been. You could feel the shift in the air the moment you walked in.
A few idols from other groups offered polite smiles and congratulations, and you returned them with equal politeness. Even Wonwoo, who was seated a few rows behind, gave you a small nod of acknowledgement. But you knew him well enough to recognize the stiffness in that nod. The slight narrowing of his eyes. The way his gaze slid away a beat too quickly.
He didn’t like this.
Still, you didn’t let yourself dwell on it. The award show carried on, the music and cheers filling the venue. Everything was fine, until your face suddenly lit up on the massive screen above the stage.
You smiled for the camera, giving a small wave… but then the broadcast cut to a few male idols in the audience. The way they were looking at you made your stomach twist. It wasn’t subtle; their gazes travelled shamelessly from your shoulders down to your legs. It wasn’t appreciation. It was ownership.
That was the last straw for Wonwoo.
From the corner of your eye, you saw him shift. Then, in one swift movement, he was on his feet.
“Wonwoo, what are you…?” Joshua’s voice cut in, confusion lacing his tone as he watched his groupmate move with far more urgency than usual.
Wonwoo didn’t answer. He tugged off his suit blazer in one smooth motion, his jaw set tight. In a few strides, he closed the distance between you. You barely had time to look up before he dropped the blazer over your shoulders, the fabric warm from his body heat.
“Wear it,” he murmured low enough that only you could hear, his voice steady but firm.
Your breath caught, but you didn’t argue.
As he turned to go back to his seat, his eyes lingered on the men from the big screen, just long enough to make his point. The look in his gaze wasn’t angry. It was sharper than that. A warning.
Sliding the blazer more securely around yourself, you kept your head forward, pretending to watch the show. But inside, you knew exactly what had just happened.
This wasn’t about him disliking your outfit. It wasn’t about control or jealousy in the petty sense. This was about him standing up, silently, without theatrics, acting like the man he believed he should be with the woman he respected.
And you… didn’t mind the weight of his jacket at all.
7️⃣ Woozi:
Picture this: A joint group activity between HYBE and YG. Your group had been invited to film a special variety show episode alongside a few SEVENTEEN members, more specifically, Minghao, Woozi, and Hoshi.
The moment the collaboration announcement dropped, fans went absolutely feral. Why? Because your teammate Soony had been “shipped” with Jihoon since your group’s debut, all because of one lighthearted, misinterpreted interview.
The irony? Soony had never been involved with Woozi, and Woozi had zero interest in her. Why? Because you had been dating him for the past two years.
Did anyone know?
Most of your close friends, your group members, and a few staff did. But the public? Not a chance. With how busy Jihoon’s schedule had been this year, and how precious your relationship was and still is, you’d both agreed to keep it private for as long as possible.
In fact, the ongoing Soony–Woozi rumour actually worked in your favour, keeping curious eyes away from your real interactions. You had a great public dynamic, casual, harmless, nothing to see here.
But that didn’t mean it was always smooth sailing.
Especially on Jihoon’s end.
It wasn’t exactly fun for him to wake up on a Saturday morning, scroll through his phone, and see his girlfriend trending online for being “linked” to half his group, four members, to be exact, if you counted all the silly rumours over the years. You’d both learned to keep the public far away from your relationship.
Still… at the end of the day, he was a man. And even the most patient man had limits.
“Hoshi, could you please switch seats and sit next to Y/n?”
The request came from one of the staff members through the set speakers.
You’d been sitting between Soony and Woozi, but you simply nodded, gathering your things and sliding over without fuss. You threw Jihoon a quick side glance as you moved, just enough to catch the tightness in his jaw.
He was already nearing the brim of his patience.
Filming went smoothly enough. The usual variety show banter. The expected nudges and comments about the “Soony and Woozi” rumours.
You took it in stride, cracking light jokes with Hoshi beside you. But Jihoon? He’d been bouncing his leg for a solid thirty minutes. Past the polite smile stage. Well past it. He looked like he wanted to pack his bag and walk straight out.
He wasn’t even sure what was irritating him more.
The fact that the shipping talk was happening right in front of you and you didn’t seem remotely fazed…
Or the fact that you were leaning into Hoshi’s side, laughing about something Jihoon couldn’t hear.
“So Woozi,” one of the presenters said with a grin, “you know we have this segment where we go through the bags of our guests, and the public has voted for you to reveal what’s in yours today.”
Jihoon’s fake smile could’ve been printed on a T-shirt. “Oh, yes. Let’s do that,” he replied smoothly.
His manager brought over his backpack, a sleek, expensive thing, and set it in front of him. Jihoon unzipped it, pulling items out one by one.
“These are my keys,” he said, briefly holding them up. “My favourite gum. My studio spare keys. My perfume. My laptop.” He set each item neatly on the table.
“My wallet…” He took out his Dior wallet, flipping it open casually. Then, without missing a beat, he reached inside, pulled out his American Express card, and slid it across the table, right in front of you.
“I forgot to give you this,” he said flatly.
You froze.
Hoshi’s smile faltered.
The presenter looked like he’d just witnessed a live scandal and couldn’t decide if he should acknowledge it or pretend it never happened.
Jihoon, meanwhile, continued like nothing had happened. He gave you a glance, sharp, unreadable, and went back to fishing through his bag as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on the entire fandom’s sanity.
“And I think that’s it,” he said with a calm smile, leaning back in his seat and taking a long sip of water.
One of the hosts hesitated before asking, “Uh… is that all?”
Jihoon’s eyes flicked up. “What? Should I do it again? Was it not clear enough?”
8️⃣ Dk:
It takes a lot to get him jealous, and you knew that. He wasn't the type to jump to conclusions or let insecurity seep into what you two had built. His trust in you ran deep, almost unshakeable. He always said, “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it with honesty, or not at all.” And you lived by that too. He knew you'd never put him in a position where he'd have to second-guess your feelings or your respect for your relationship.
But even the most grounded man has limits, and let’s just say, your latest shoot for the new Skims campaign tested those limits.
At first, he was awestruck. When the photos dropped, his jaw quite literally slackened. You looked unreal, stunning, confident, ethereal in your element. He was so proud, even had one of the campaign shots set as his phone’s lockscreen. That’s how whipped he was.
But it didn’t take long before admiration gave way to discomfort. Because soon it hit him, everyone was going to see this. Strangers. Fans. Creeps. People who didn’t know you, didn’t respect boundaries, and didn’t care that you had someone who loved you deeply behind the scenes.
It was one thing to be proud of your success, it was another to walk down a main street and see your half-naked body on a ten-story billboard while he was still in the shadows of your private world, unable to publicly claim you, unable to say, “That’s mine.”
So yeah, it became a sore spot. Quietly. Subtly. He never brought it up directly. But the tension was there.
Now fast forward to today, he was filming a new variety show, a joint segment between SEVENTEEN and your girl group. The vibe had been light and fun so far. A few jokes, comeback teasers, playful digs between the members.
Then the focus shifted.
From SEVENTEEN… to your group.
The air changed. He felt it immediately.
He gave himself a mental pat on the back that you weren’t physically present on the set. At least he didn’t have to witness any flirty banter or awkward tension. But life wasn’t about to let him off easy.
“So,” the host started with a mischievous grin, “I heard there’s one particular member of your group who’s been causing quite the stir lately… thanks to a very hot campaign.”
The camera panned to your group’s side of the panel. Yuna, sweet as ever, gave a soft laugh and a side-glance toward Dk.
“Ah… yeah, Y/n. She did an amazing job for the Skims campaign,” she said, sounding half-proud, half-apologetic.
The second your name left her lips, Dk’s spine stiffened. His shoulders squared. He knew what was coming.
And just like that, boom. The giant LED screen behind them lit up with high-definition photos from the shoot. You in black lace, in nude mesh, lounging like a goddess. His throat went dry.
“Holy…” Dino muttered beside him.
Dk didn’t say a word. He just crossed his arms, jaw tight, and stared ahead, eyes fixed on nothing. A camera angle cut to a wide shot of the group, and zoomed right in on him. Leg bouncing. Brows furrowed. Lips in a hard line. Completely exposed.
“Take it easyyyy, bro,” S.Coups whispered under his breath, nudging him slightly.
“I’m fine,” Dk muttered, not convincing anyone, especially not himself.
But the universe wasn’t done messing with him.
The hosts, clearly amused, kept the segment going, pictures still flashing behind them, each one seemingly more suggestive than the last. And poor Dk just sat there, arms still folded so tightly it looked like he was trying to keep himself from combusting.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the host glanced at the screen showing Dk’s reaction and burst into a chuckle.
“Dokyeom,” he said with playful emphasis, “you seem a little bothered by the topic…”
That snapped Dk back into the moment. His head turned toward the main monitor, where, to his horror, a freeze frame of his tense expression had been up for five straight minutes.
The studio broke into light laughter.
He blinked and gave a forced smile, scratching the back of his neck. “Ah… no, no, I was just… surprised. I didn’t know they were going to show those pictures,” he said, voice a bit higher than usual.
9️⃣ Mingyu:
One person everyone in SEVENTEEN could confidently say didn’t know how to be jealous was Mingyu.
Not because he didn’t care, but because he was just that kind of guy. Too sweet for his own good, too trusting, too giving. The kind of person who’d let people step all over him if it meant keeping the peace. He always laughed it off. Always shrugged. Always said, “It’s not that deep.”
Until he met you.
Everything in Mingyu’s life felt sorted, at least on the surface. Career on track, friendships tight, the group stable. Love? He never thought he’d be the jealous type, especially not with someone like you, who had their own world, their own spotlight.
But working with you in real life? That changed things.
You’d made a name for yourself over the past few years, first as a variety show MC, then breaking out as one of Korea’s most promising young actresses. You didn’t want people accusing you of riding on his fame, and Mingyu hated that you even had to think about that.
So he showed support in the only way he knew how, steadily, lovingly, without pressure.
And tonight, at the premiere of your very first movie, he was bursting with pride.
He and Seungkwan were your “plus ones,” chosen strategically to keep things casual for the cameras. Just friends attending a premiere together.
In the van ride over, the atmosphere was light but buzzing with nerves. You were wearing a deep navy strapless gown that hugged your figure and shimmered under the overhead lights. Coincidentally, or not, your dress perfectly matched Mingyu’s tailored suit and Seungkwan’s crisp shirt.
“Nervous?” Mingyu asked, rubbing your bare shoulder gently and pressing a kiss against your temple.
You nodded, exhaling. “Yeah. I’ve never done a red carpet like this before. Not like… this.”
Your palms rubbed together unconsciously.
“Let me take a photo of you two,” Seungkwan cut in, holding up his phone. “Gotta immortalize this chaotic pre-event energy.”
You both grinned, instinctively falling into your signature pose, Mingyu pressed chest-to-back behind you, your left hand cupping his cheek, his arm draped loosely but protectively around your shoulders. Both of you pouting dramatically at the camera.
The premiere venue was massive, paparazzi, influencers, directors, executives, and fans flooding every inch of the carpet. But what caught Mingyu off guard wasn’t the chaos of the crowd. It was the sheer number of posters, billboards, and standees showing you and your male co-star locked in an on-screen kiss.
Everywhere he turned, your face. His face. Lips inches apart. Eyes gazing like lovers. And right underneath: “Starring Y/n & Woo Do-hwan.”
That name alone said enough.
It was stupid, he knew that. But at that moment, standing in a sea of flashbulbs and posters that screamed "romantic leads," Mingyu felt… out of place. Like a third wheel to his own girlfriend.
Seungkwan noticed instantly.
Mingyu’s smiles were slightly forced, his stance too rigid. He kept adjusting his tie even though it was perfectly straight. Seungkwan glanced at him sideways and made a mental note to give Jeonghan a full report later. “Our gentle giant’s about to lose it,” he thought.
The initial rounds of photos went smoothly. You were glowing, doing press interviews, and waving at fans. Mingyu hung back, proud but quietly bristling.
Then it happened.
Midway down the carpet, you met your co-star Woo Do-hwan for a staged photo op. He welcomed you with a confident smile and a hug that was maybe just a few seconds too long. The camera shutters exploded.
Do-hwan leaned in, whispering something into your ear that made you laugh, shoulders bouncing with ease. And then his hand lingered. Right on the small of your back. Casually. But firmly.
Mingyu’s jaw tensed.
That was the last straw.
When it was time to climb the staircase to the next photo area, flanked by Seungkwan and Mingyu, your heels slowed you down. Without saying anything, Mingyu stepped closer, and instead of offering his arm like earlier, he slipped his hand into yours, fingers interlocking tightly.
You paused, caught off guard. Glancing sideways at him, you saw the flash of something new in his eyes.
Possessiveness.
It wasn’t aggressive. But it was undeniable.
Once you reached the top, standing between your two dates for the press shots, he didn’t settle for just standing beside you. His hand slid around your waist, resting gently but unmistakably on your lower back.
You leaned into him slightly, trying to read his energy.
“Mingyu…” you murmured under your breath between smiles.
“Hmm?” he said without looking at you, grinning like the cameras were his best friends.
“You okay?”
“I’m perfect,” he replied, squeezing your waist just a little tighter.
Seungkwan, on your other side, deadpanned into the camera lens like he was filming a sitcom.
Yep, he thought. This is it. This man is fully spiralling. And he doesn’t even know how to hide it.
Mingyu smiled all night, but it was a different kind of smile. It wasn’t his usual carefree grin. It was the smile of someone claiming something quietly, not for the cameras, but for himself.
That night, when you finally got back in the van, you turned to him and said softly, “You were acting weird tonight.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Weird how?”
“Like… territorial.”
Mingyu gave a half-laugh, then took your hand again, lacing your fingers like earlier.
“Maybe I just remembered,” he said, voice lower now, “that you’re mine.”
And in the quiet that followed, Seungkwan whispered dramatically from the front seat,
“And the Academy Award for Best Real-Life Plot Twist goes to… KIM MINGYU.”
1️⃣0️⃣ Minghao:
The thing about Minghao is, he’s always calm. Even when he’s angry, it manifests as silence, stillness, a sharp inhale. Jealousy, for him, isn’t loud. It doesn’t explode. It simmers quietly and mutates into something else entirely: annoyance.
And annoyance doesn’t suit him. It makes his shoulders tense, his jaw set tight, his gaze sharper than usual.
You, Minghao, your manager, and a few staff members were just flying back from a Louis Vuitton event in Beijing. One of the perks of your job was travelling with your boyfriend. One of the very clear downsides was that you couldn’t actually act like his girlfriend in public.
Your relationship wasn’t public, not even close. You’d had too many close calls with obsessive fans and online threats. For the safety of both of you, especially you, discretion was non-negotiable.
But moments like this made that choice feel like a punishment.
It was just past 7 p.m when the flight landed. If this had been your own schedule, you would’ve had a private exit, fewer eyes, maybe even a little room to breathe. But now? This was SEVENTEEN’s Minghao’s public return to Seoul. Crowds of fans and photographers had already started flooding the arrival hall, pressing into each other, some even yelling out names before any of you had emerged.
And you? You hated crowds. The noise, the lack of space, the sensory chaos, it always triggered that panicky, clammy feeling in your chest. And worst of all, you couldn’t even do the one thing that usually grounded you, hold onto him.
You watched him ahead, walking with three bodyguards flanking his sides, sunglasses on, expression unreadable. His manager was close, and a few staff trailed behind. You kept your distance.
It was for your safety. That’s what you told yourself.
You didn’t cling to his arm like you always did when nervous. You didn’t let yourself reach for his hand. You walked in silence, a polite space between you and the man who knew your heartbeat better than anyone else.
Until the pushing started.
A wave of fans surged toward the barricades, and suddenly you lost sight of him. You stood on your toes to find his figure through the sea of shoulders and cameras, but he was gone.
The grip on your carry-on tightened. You felt your manager’s hand on your back, trying to guide you toward another path. Someone bumped into your arm hard.
And just like that, you were alone in a tidal wave of people.
Minghao had made it to the exit door. His jaw clenched beneath his mask as he looked around for you. He fully expected to see you and your manager close behind the staff, maybe a step behind the last bodyguard.
But when he turned…
Nothing.
Just fans. Screaming, pushing, waving banners, filming.
His chest tightened.
“Where is she?” he asked under his breath, already shrugging his bag off and passing it wordlessly to a staff member. His voice was low, but firm.
His manager glanced back. “I think they’re still coming, probably caught in the crowd. Let’s just get to the van. They’ll meet us at the other exit…”
“I’m not leaving without her,” Minghao snapped quietly, and before anyone could stop him, he turned back toward the chaos.
There were too many people. Even with security trying to keep the path open, fans were pushing forward with phones out, cameras flashing, the crowd pulsing like a living thing.
She hates this, he thought, jaw tightening.
What ate away at him the most wasn’t the anxiety, it was that he couldn’t protect you the way he wanted. Not without exposing you. Not without risking everything.
But then, he saw you.
You and your manager, pushed to the far side, practically being chased by a few determined paparazzi and what looked like someone from Dispatch, their cameras raised, faces all too familiar.
And that was it. The last coin dropped.
In two long strides, he cut through the wall of fans and security, ignoring the shouting, ignoring the risk. Cameras caught the flicker of his expression as he surged forward. His hand reached out before he could second-guess it.
“Come with me,” he said, voice barely audible over the chaos as he caught your hand and gripped it tight.
Your eyes widened, horrified.
“Hao, what are you doing?” you whispered through gritted teeth, glancing around at the phones pointing at you. The panic in your voice broke his heart.
But he didn’t stop.
He took your bag from your shoulder in one swift move, slipped it over his arm, and leaned in just close enough to say, “I don’t care. Just follow me.”
1️⃣1️⃣ Seungkwan:
“It’s not a big deal,” you murmur under your breath, trying to keep your voice low enough not to carry beyond the curtain. One of your staff crouches behind you, adjusting the mic pouch clipped awkwardly at the waistband of your pants.
Just a few feet away, Seungkwan sits stiffly in a makeup chair, getting some last-minute touch-ups. His reflection in the mirror doesn’t blink, but you can feel his eyes cutting toward you through the glare of the vanity lights.
“It is a big deal,” he bites out quietly, voice sharp but hushed between clenched teeth. “Because it makes me feel like I’m just... some guy you work with. Like I’m invisible to everyone. Even to you.”
You glance at him, your expression softening but your nerves tightening all at once. There’s no time for this, not now.
“Babe,” you say, breathing in carefully as your stylist gives you a quick once-over. “I understand you’re upset. I do. But having a jealous meltdown on live broadcast, in front of eight cameras and a screaming audience? That’s not exactly making things easier for me. I’m already walking a tightrope out there.”
He exhales harshly through his nose, rolling his eyes just enough for you to catch it.
You don’t say anything else as the crew waves for you both to get into position. Seungkwan falls in step behind you, but the silence between you crackles. On most days, you’d brush it off, he had a flair for sarcasm when he was overwhelmed, and you’d learned to decode his moods. Usually, the love outweighed the annoyance.
But not today.
Today he didn’t wake up with a smile in your kitchen. He didn’t make it to your apartment for your usual morning coffee run. And worse, today’s show, one he’d already been reluctant to film, just so happened to feature your ex as the special host.
Who planned that? Satan?
You could tell from the moment you walked onto set that the day would test every limit of Seungkwan’s patience. And unfortunately, your ex wasn’t exactly helping.
In the first twenty minutes alone, he managed to drop at least ten inside jokes only someone who used to date you would know. His tone was casual, sure. But you knew better. So did Seungkwan.
He hadn’t said a word about it yet. But the tension in his jaw, the way he stood with his arms tightly crossed behind the scenes, the way he hadn’t once smiled genuinely, that said everything.
The camera light flashes red.
“So Seungkwan,” one of the hosts asks, finally shifting the spotlight off of you. “What’s your favourite way to spend a day off?”
He perks up a bit, straightening in his seat like he’s flipping a switch. Performer mode on.
“Ah… It depends,” he says thoughtfully, rubbing at his chin. “Usually I like to grab a coffee, walk around the city, maybe bike through the park if the weather’s good.”
You nod along, thankful he’s finding his rhythm again.
But then.
“Matcha with coconut milk, right?” he asks, turning his head to you so suddenly it makes your heart lurch.
Your eyes snap to him, caught completely off guard. “Sorry, what?”
“That’s what you always order,” he says, that familiar, smug smile creeping onto his lips. It’s charming to everyone else. To you, it’s a warning.
You blink, caught between confusion and the boiling embarrassment of being put on the spot. “Oh… yeah. That’s right.” You turn toward the hosts, trying to match their polite laughter as you nod.
But you know exactly what this is.
From the corner of your eye, you see your manager pinch the bridge of his nose, his other hand flat against his forehead like he’s trying not to explode.
You clench your jaw and keep your face camera-ready. But inside, you’re seething.
Seungkwan, with all his kindness, wit, and warmth, also had a petty streak a mile wide when it came to you. And today? Today, he decided to show his claws right when the world was watching.
1️⃣2️⃣ Vernon:
Vernon always had a quiet, introspective way of processing his emotions, especially when things between you two felt even slightly misaligned. His emotional intelligence was something you’d always admired, but being in a relationship that lived behind closed doors, hidden from fans, hidden from the world, began to stir something restless inside him.
He didn’t say it out loud, but the secrecy started to gnaw at him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the need for privacy. He did. You were both idols, both under the microscope. But as time passed, a question started haunting him in quiet moments:
"If I see her like this... who else does?"
That question became harder to ignore the day your group and a few SEVENTEEN members sat on a joint panel at a major festival. It was a crowded media event, bright lights, probing questions, cameras catching everything. You had to be extra careful with your words, your expressions, even your breathing. One wrong look and the headlines would write themselves.
Still, you kept your composure. Until the reporter came.
A middle-aged journalist, smug with a mic in hand, decided to zero in on your recent stage collaboration with Mark from NCT, a sexy, tightly choreographed number that had fans (and clearly, the media) spiraling.
Vernon had been there during rehearsals. He liked Mark. He knew the collaboration was professional. Hell, he even helped you warm up before the stage that night when you were too anxious to stretch alone.
But then came the commentary.
“The chemistry between you and Mark was... electric, wasn’t it? Some fans even said it looked a little too natural. What would you say to that?”
You smiled politely, trying not to shift in your seat.
“Oh…uh…we worked really hard on the routine. Mark’s a great performer.”
But Vernon saw it. The slight twitch of your fingers. The way your eyes darted toward the ground for a second too long. You weren’t nervous because of the question. You were nervous because he was there, hearing it.
Then the reporter added:
“Some are even calling it one of the most sensually choreographed collabs of the year. Did you two choreograph it yourselves?”
And that’s when Vernon felt something sharp press against his chest.
Jealousy wasn’t foreign to him. But this was different. It wasn’t just possessiveness. It was the dread of watching someone else publicize the part of you he fell in love with, the way you moved, your stage presence, that connection.
Before he could even think it through, the words were out of his mouth.
“We’re actually releasing a song together soon.”
He said it calmly, too calmly, as he fiddled with the pen in front of him.
Heads turned.
You blinked, confused.
“Wha…We are?”
The moderator smiled, intrigued. “Oh? That’s news to us. What kind of song?”
Vernon barely missed a beat, though his voice wavered.
“Something… vibey. But I can’t say much. We wouldn’t want people to… get the wrong impression.”
The room went silent. The message underneath his words was unmistakable.
He saw what they saw, but he wasn’t going to let them twist the narrative.
And really, he should’ve thanked the universe that Woozi was sitting just two seats away, already pulling out his phone to draft a beat on his music app. Two weeks later, you and Vernon dropped a moody, ambient track that no one saw coming, "Fade Into You", written and recorded in the dead of night to save face after one emotionally-fueled slip of the tongue.
1️⃣3️⃣ Dino:
You and Dino had a small spat on the way to the filming site. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t messy. Just one of those quiet, simmering disagreements that settle between two people like an unspoken fog, thick enough to feel, thin enough to pretend doesn’t exist.
You both had long mastered the art of public composure. Years of idol training made it second nature to switch on the camera-ready smile. And you did exactly that. Not even Seungkwan, ever perceptive, or Hoshi, who usually picked up on the smallest mood shifts, sensed the tension.
But Dino?
Dino was struggling.
Earlier that morning, while you were still in the dressing room, you’d sent him a quick mirror selfie. You didn’t think much of it. The dress you were styled in for the shoot was a bold one, midnight blue, sleek fabric that hugged your body in all the right places, with a daring neckline and a hem that skimmed the tops of your thighs. Elegant, a little provocative, but on-theme.
You knew you looked good. And so did he.
He opened the picture while seated in the back of the company van. His breath caught. He blinked a few times, as if he needed to process the image more slowly. And then, instead of replying something sweet like he usually would, he sent:
Chan: You look amazing… but do you have to wear that?
You exhaled hard. Here we go again.
Y/n: It’s the concept. Don’t make a scene.
You didn’t mean to sound cold. But his timing was off. And so was his tone.
But he wasn’t done.
Chan: I’m not making a scene, I’m being honest. Just... be careful, okay?
You didn’t respond after that. You couldn’t. Because if you did, it would’ve turned into a full-blown argument, and you both knew today wasn’t the day for that.
Hours later, you were seated across from him on a glossy white set, studio lights gleaming, twelve cameras recording every microexpression. The energy in the room was light. Hoshi was doing his usual chaos routine. Seungkwan was feeding jokes to the hosts. Laughter bounced around like a live audience track.
But Chan?
Chan was practically vibrating.
He was smiling, yes. Nodding at all the right times. Saying his lines. But anyone who knew him, truly knew him, could see the signs. The tight jaw. The rigid posture. The occasional glance at the male host who seemed just a little too entertained by your presence.
Every time someone complimented you, your beauty, your charm, even your aura, Chan’s jaw ticked. He wasn’t just jealous. He was burning.
You could see it in the way his fingers curled into his palms under the table. In how his knee bounced, fast and sharp, with every flirtatious comment thrown your way.
The host cracked a joke, light, harmless, not even original. Something about how you were “so distracting, no one can concentrate with you here.”
Everyone laughed. Even Hoshi let out a loud fake wheeze.
Chan didn’t.
Not even a twitch of the lips.
He turned his face toward Hoshi with a brief look. Not angry. Just… tight. Measured. Hoshi’s eyes widened for a split second before he redirected the conversation, bless him.
The tension in Chan’s shoulders never eased.
It was 15 degrees in the studio. Cool air-conditioning, borderline chilly. Still, you watched a bead of sweat slide down the side of his neck.
You caught his eyes once, during a pause in filming. No one else was watching. He looked at you, not with anger, not even with disappointment. Just that raw, open stare that said he wanted to be anywhere but here, with you dressed like that, while he had to sit across the table and pretend he didn’t want to pull you into his arms and make everyone disappear.
You felt the air shift.
You already knew.
Sure enough, when the shoot wrapped and you got home, your phone buzzed.
SYNOPSIS ⤏ could there be anything that could make your shift at the local coffee shop better? there is! and it's the hottest emo boy you'll ever find.
PARING ⤏ emo!jisung x down bad!fem reader
GENRE ⤏ smau, rom-com, cafe au, honestly crack au, she's so insanely down bad, but so is he, mutual pining, slow burn, forbidden?? love, mark is just really protective
FEATURING ⤏ nct dream, mingi from atz, matthew from zb1, manon from katseye, tsuki from billlie, ningning from aespa, and sohee from riize
FACECLAIM ⤏ faceclaim for y/n purely for picture purposes!! (@ leedainlee on ig)
PLAYLIST ⤏ baby came home 2 / valentines, the neighbourhood | sweet, cigarettes after sex | melting, kali uchis | pretty boy, the neighbourhood | dreamland, glass animals | emo boy, ayesha erotica | smoke it off!, lumi athena | soaked, shy smith | on the floor!, removeface | it girl, aliyah's interlude
STARTED ⤏ 3/6/2025
STATUS ⤏ completed ♡
NOTE ⤏ i love making preppy characters obsessed with emos 😋😋
Pairing: Chenle x reader
Description: NCIT men’s basketball star, Zhong Chenle, faces a season of ineligibility if he can’t get his grades up. Luckily for him, one of his teammates is also part of a super smart friend group, and Chenle is just convincing enough in his request for a tutor - bringing you into his life…and making him aware of just how different the two of you are. With his newfound desire to prove to you that there’s more to life than academics, he ends up discovering there might be more to life than basketball, too.
Genre: smau, college au, crack, jock x nerd, Chenle’s a jerk in the beginning
Content warnings: swearing, death jokes, suggestive jokes made throughout, one instance of drinking/partying
A/n: This is on the shorter side without angst to fill the plot because all the angst is going into my Chenle written fic…but I wanted to get something out for you all while I’m working on that because I love you (and then I got horribly attached to this smau and spent ALL my brain power on it and that wasn't supposed to be the case...)
Status: completed!
Started: February 17, 2025
Ended: April 6, 2025
Taglist closed
[Intro: 637273 IQ Crew]
[Intro: Basketball Brains]
Pairing: Jeno x reader
Description: Your childhood was nothing short of amazing with twinbrother!Jaemin and bestfriend!Jeno. It was the three of you against the world, and all Jaemin asked was that you and Jeno not get involved with each other. It was a simple rule, but one that Jeno convinced you to give up on by the end of your senior year of high school. While you’re ready to navigate the extent of both your feelings, Jeno was ready to pretend that one shared kiss never existed, tearing apart your friendship in the process. Though, with college graduation came the famed trip to Hawaii the three of you had planned since childhood. Now it was just a matter of if four years of no contact between you and Jeno was something you could come back from.
Content warnings: mentions of alcohol, a little bit of angst with a happy ending. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything.
Word count: 12,825 :)
A/n: I had wips started for other members before the idea of this existed but I can’t help myself from writing about Jeno. I hope you all are doing well - I’m rooting for you! Please enjoy, or don’t…I can’t tell you what to do. As always, feedback would be GREATLY appreciated :)
You were alone on the outskirts of the venue, already tired of getting stepped on by everyone jumping up and down, or worse, having to withstand watching all the couples dance to the slow songs. Prom night was not all that those movies chalked it up to be, not when you’re single, anyways. That being said, the theme was masquerade and you were currently walking through the garden, so you didn’t miss the opportunity to at least romanticize your night a little bit.
You’re broken out of your thoughts when you hear footsteps behind you, and you turn from the rose bushes to lay eyes on a figure you knew all too well, a small smile coming onto your features as you meet his masked gaze. As soon as you turned around to face him, his movements grew clumsier, and he softly laughed over them as he spoke. “Hey there. I don’t mean to come on too strong but, you look beautiful.” His words were firm but you just raised an eyebrow and shook your head.
“Jeno, I know you know it’s me.” You reply with a dry laugh.
He looks back over his shoulder before turning towards you once more, confused. “Jeno? Who’s Jeno?”
Your raised brow quickly furrows as you look at him. The masks adorning your faces in no way made either of you unrecognizable to each other when you’ve quite literally grown up together. You were sure that was Jeno, and you were sure he knew who you were under that mask, too. “What are you playing at?” You ask, any remaining patience for his games leaving your voice. To your surprise, Jeno’s shoulders dropped, and he looked around again to make sure no one else was nearby before moving closer to you.
“You know Jaemin’s one rule for me?” He questions, and you swallow hard because of course you knew the rule your twin brother had set in place since you were five, but you couldn’t figure out why that was any bit relevant right now.
“That you’re not allowed to get involved with me?” You answer hesitantly, and Jeno nods his head.
“Yeah, that one. It’s kind of a pain.” He says with a light laugh.
You drop your head to face the floor, all your courage escaping you as you acknowledge the one thing you’ve been pushing down for years. “...yeah.” You breathe out in agreement, and the corner of Jeno’s mouth quirks up in a smirk.
He takes a step closer to you. “So, what if our masquerade outfits were just so good that we couldn’t recognize each other?” He asks in something close to a whisper. “That I didn’t know it was you?” He takes another step, you can feel his breath as you look back up to face him with wide eyes. “Could I kiss you then?” He finally gets out in a whisper, and your world starts slowing to a pause.
You had to be smart here. Your brother meant the world to you, having his trust meant the world to you, and all he ever asked for was that you and Jeno not get involved…well, he made it more of a demand on Jeno’s end. For over a decade, you abided by it with no mishaps, but it never changed the fact that your soul has been aching for Jeno all that time - that it still is. You didn’t know what to do. “Jeno…” You whisper back, all of your thoughts ending right there. Thankfully, he picks back up and, for better or worse, doesn’t know how to quit.
“What if it was just an honest mistake? He can’t get mad at us for that, can he?” He continues to dig at it, reaching for the answer he wanted in response to his twisted logic. His hand had already come up to cup your cheek, and you shift your gaze to make eye contact with him, trying to take back some dominance as opposed to turning into a puddle. Your wide, soft, helpless eyes were nothing in comparison to the longing you saw in his.
Jeno had regained all his confidence and composure long since he stumbled through calling you beautiful. Everything now was meticulous, completely controlled by Jeno, and you wonder how long he had been planning this. Since the theme was announced? All those months ago? You can’t imagine having missed his pining after you for that long, especially when you’ve been looking for a hidden meaning to his every action for years now, and yet, he stood in front of you now in seriousness - seriously looking as though he might die if you don’t let him kiss you.
You move your gaze back down to his chest - anywhere that wasn’t his eyes as you respond as surely as you could. “If you’re going to kiss me, whoever you are, do it now.”
The only pause Jeno took in between your consent and him actually kissing you was to smile like a kid who just got told they were getting dessert for dinner. Then he leaned in and kissed you gently. It might have been the fact that you were in a long dress and he was in a suit, but it felt like you were in a fairytale - the world around you quieted, the stars shining down on the two of you as if the universe had been waiting for this moment. The kiss was soft and delicate, Jeno never pressing to deepen it. Instead, he held onto you as though you were fragile, like any harsh movement would break everything, make it all disappear, and he would die before letting that happen.
When you break away, Jeno rests his forehead against yours, the two of you now caught up in soft smiles and laughter that you couldn’t be too obvious about. Though, almost immediately, they were calling for everyone to get together for the reveal of prom king and queen. You look up at Jeno through your eyelashes. “Should we go see if Jaemin’s won prom king?”
Jeno nods his head against yours. “Yeah, he’ll be looking for us after, anyways.” He replies, though he makes no effort to move. Instead, he sneaks in about a thousand small pecks at your lips until you turn back into a giggling mess.
“Okay, okay, stop!” You finally get out in between laughs, moving back from his figure to instead grab his hand and drag him with you towards the main floor of the venue. You typically weren’t one for holding hands, but now you’re sure it’s just because you’ve never held Jeno’s before. His fingers intertwined with your own like they finally found their home, and you know Jeno’s hand was the only one meant for yours. However, the second you meet back up with the big crowd facing the stage, you let his hand drop and he didn’t fight to keep them together, he couldn’t…you both knew that.
To no one’s surprise, Jaemin was crowned prom king. The entire crowd broke into cheers, but Jaemin just stood on stage and scanned the audience for you and Jeno, finally finding the two of you with a small smile on his lips to level out the brightest of smiles held in his eyes. You made eye contact with your brother and nodded softly before joining the rest of the crowd in clapping. Though in seconds, everyone’s attention was turned to the sky as fireworks were set off in celebration. With Jaemin still not off the stage, Jeno leaned down at his side so that his lips were by your ear, though his eyes stayed trained on the fireworks. “That’s what kissing you feels like.” He whispers, and your entire face heats up. You take your eyes off the fireworks to turn and look at him, giving him a playful shove.
“Shut up.” You say, but your words meant nothing amidst the smile on your face. Jeno just laughs, turning his attention back to the fireworks still going off. Though, he quietly grabbed your hand back in his, playing with your fingers as the rest of the fireworks kept everyone’s attention on the sky.
That was the last remotely romantic moment you had with Jeno.
Jaemin found you both after the fireworks ended, and the three of you hung around together for the rest of the night. You immediately hugged Jaemin once he made his way over to you. “Congrats on the win, king.” You say, and Jaemin just flashes you a proud smirk before leading you all away from the bigger crowds so you had space to actually breathe.
The dance ended an hour later and you all filed into Jaemin’s car so he could drive home. “That was actually a pretty nice night, yeah?” He asks, taking a glance over at you in the passenger seat and back to Jeno through the rear view mirror.
You nod your head in agreement as Jeno is the one to elaborate. “Yeah, my favorite part was the fireworks.” He responds cooly, but your face heats up. You had no clue if he was talking about the actual fireworks or the fireworks that he claims went off when you two kissed earlier that night, and you couldn’t risk turning around to look at him and figure it out in his gaze.
Instead, you just duck your head, idly messing with your fingers as you add on softly. “Yeah, the fireworks were nice.”
Jaemin stared over at you with a look in his eyes as though he were trying to figure you out. Being twins, it wasn’t really a surprise that he knew you sometimes better than you knew yourself, but it was instances like these where you wish he didn’t. Thankfully, if he found any deeper meaning to your words, he didn’t question it, instead just humming happily in agreement before going over his own favorite parts of the night.
Jeno ended up sleeping over with the excuse that your post-prom movie night ran too long - you and Jaemin told him that he should’ve planned on sleeping over from the start. Regardless, the next morning, you and Jeno ended up being the first ones awake. You walk out of your bedroom to see him in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a cup of coffee and idly scrolling on his phone. You smile at the sight of him in pajamas with messy hair, though you figure you looked about the same after just rolling out of bed.
“Hey.” You say, lightly enough to get his attention without risking waking up anyone else. His eyes snap onto your figure, a small smile coming onto his face as he begins to move.
“Hey, good morning. Do you want your coffee? I already made it - one cream, two sugars and all that.” He turns back to you with a smirk, a different mug in his hand now as his eyebrows raise in wait for your answer. He places his other hand around the actual mug to feel the temperature before nodding slightly. “It’s drinkable for you now.” He continues with a smile, sliding the mug over to where you’ve moved to stand on the other side of the counter. “Cause you know, you’re super scared of burning your tongue…even though the funny feeling goes away in like- a day.” He teases. “But anyways, I made it when I made mine so yours could cool down a bit until you got up.”
You duck your head, hiding a laugh. Jeno knew you a little too well sometimes, but you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t do the same in a reverse scenario - how he took his coffee was a fact far past memorized for you. “Thank you.” You say quietly, grabbing the mug from his hands and taking a sip with no hesitation. It was, in fact, your perfect cup of coffee. “How long have you been up?” You ask, and Jeno turns around to look at the clock on the microwave before doing math in his head.
“A little over thirty minutes. Your coffee hasn’t been waiting that long, I promise. It took me a while to convince myself to get out of bed.” He answers with a small laugh, and you flash your eyebrows in recognition as you take another sip.
With you and Jeno hanging out practically every day, there wasn’t much small talk you could ever make - nothing to catch up on when you were there to actually experience all his stories in the first place. So, you turn your head towards the backyard windows, looking out as you try and build up the courage to say what was actually on your mind. “Are we gonna talk about it?” You ask quietly, still not brave enough to look Jeno in the face and see his reaction.
You figure that was probably for the best when he replies neutrally. “About what?”
A stab to the heart was what that reply was, confusion coursing through your veins knowing he was the one begging to kiss you last night. You spent all these years helplessly pining after Jeno but he apparently kissed you just for fun - nothing that would matter the next morning, nothing to talk about. “Oh.” You say, trying your best not to sound hurt as you place your coffee back down on the counter. Without another word, you walk back upstairs to your room, passing by Jaemin who had just woken up.
“Good morning.” He says with his typical smile, but you stay staring at your feet in front of you.
“Morning.” You reply quietly, sure your voice would crack with tears if you dared speak any louder. Jaemin furrows his brows at your behavior, but before he can question anything, you’re already back in your room and behind closed doors. So instead, he continues with his walk downstairs to find a distraught Jeno and your unfinished cup of coffee sitting on the counter. Jaemin just sighs as he moves to start making his own coffee, praying that whatever it was that had the two of you bothered would work itself out in no time.
That never happened.
You started avoiding Jeno after that morning, hiding in your room whenever he would come over or making sure you had plans to get you out of the house entirely; anything to make yourself scarce. It was a stupid way to spend your last summer before college - hiding from your best friend, but you couldn’t help the fact that any reminder of him now hurt. You had spent too long crushing on Jeno just for him to string you along with one kiss and then pretend nothing happened. Truthfully, you would have rather him rejected you outright instead of ghosting over the subject and leaving you without closure.
After the first week of you blatantly avoiding Jeno, he too stopped trying to reach out - wouldn’t ask where you were headed as you left through the front door, wouldn’t knock on your bedroom door and ask if you wanted what Jaemin and himself just made for dinner, wouldn’t text and ask how your day went, wouldn’t say ‘hi’ in passing…all that was left of your relationship was the fact that he never left your mind and the way he would still stare after you with an unreadable expression whenever you walked away from him.
Jaemin let it go in the beginning, but soon enough he couldn’t bear the tension, nor the fact that now on any given day, he had to choose between hanging out with you or Jeno, when it used to be the three of you against the world. It was mid-summer when the two of you had gone out for ice cream one day. The entire outing was as normal as ever, but as Jaemin pulled in front of your house to park, he didn’t turn the car off right away. You look over at him in question as you unbuckle your seatbelt, but he just sighs.
“I know there’s something going on between you and Jeno,” he starts, and you sink back into your own seat. “But I also know you, so there’s no point in trying to figure out what happened because you’ll never tell me. But I just- are you okay?” He finishes, swinging his gaze over to you with a hint of worry in his eyes.
You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, instead just shaking your head and trying to make sure it shakes back your tears as well. “I don’t know.” You answer hoarsely. Nothing has felt normal since you and Jeno stopped talking, but the idea of facing him now filled you with anxiety. Jaemin leaned over to wrap you in an awkward hug and you finally let some tears fall in his embrace.
“Please just tell me Jeno isn’t the reason you’re going to a different university.” He says in a near whisper, and more things in your brain start to click. Before going to NCIT together was ever a plan between you, Jeno, and Jaemin, it was a plan between you and Jaemin. Choosing at the last minute to instead enroll elsewhere probably hurt Jaemin a lot more than he let on when you made the decision last month. Thankfully, you can at least reassure him that you weren’t letting a boy control your life…sort of.
“He’s not. You know this one has a better program for what I want to do anyways. Sure, the situation with Jeno didn’t necessarily help in convincing me to stick with our original plan, but maybe some actual time away from each other will help mend things.”
Jaemin breaks from the hug to resume a normal sitting position in his car, his hands idly fiddling with each other. “I’m sorry you two aren’t close anymore. I know- I know he meant a lot to you.”
You shake your head, using your palm to wipe away any remnants of tears as you reply. “Just the normal amount.” Your words come out weak, as though the lie could hardly care to exist in the first place. You swallow back the awkwardness that came with your words, wondering how well your brother was able to read you today. Though, dwelling on it wouldn’t do any good, so instead you turn to face Jaemin with intent, a few traces of guilt hidden within your features if you look hard enough. “I’m sorry you have to be caught in the middle of it.” You say, and Jaemin lets out a light sigh that you think was meant to be laughter.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve navigated it for half the summer already.” He says with a teasing smirk that finally gets the atmosphere to lighten. “Besides, some time apart will mend everything and we’ll be all good to go for our graduation trip, yeah?”
Despite yourself, a small smile comes onto your face. The three of you had been planning to spend a week in Hawaii after college graduation for almost as long as you could remember, and if there was one thing you weren’t going back on, it was a trip to Hawaii. “Yeah, that graduation trip stays as planned no matter what.” You reply, turning to face him so he could see your smile again. Jaemin nodded lightly, finally turning the car off as the two of you get out and head for the door.
Fast forward four years and time did not mend things, but your graduation trip stayed as planned. Neither you nor Jeno ever attempted to reach back out during college, but neither you nor Jeno had it in you to bow out of the graduation trip or even slightly alter the plans. So, when Jeno joined the two of you outside, loading Jaemin’s car with luggage, he sent a small ‘hi’ your way. You just nod in response. There was no way the two of you could go the entire trip without talking, you knew that, but that didn’t mean you were ready to act as though the last four years of radio silence didn’t happen. In fact, pretending things didn’t happen was the last thing you’ve been wanting this entire time.
Jeno lets out a soft sigh at your lack of a verbal response as you instead just slide into the back seat of the car. Jaemin comes around to place a comforting hand on Jeno’s shoulder. “Give her time. It wasn’t just separate colleges that had the two of you grow apart, it was that entire last summer of purposefully avoiding each other. Before you’re upset that you can’t pick up where you left off, remember that 50% of the blame is your own. You stopped talking to her, too. Where you ‘left off’ was not as best friends.”
Jeno shakes his head. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t expecting us to be that close again.” He states plainly, and the tiniest of frowns flashes across Jaemin’s face before he motions for the two of them to get in the car as well, the ride to the airport filled entirely with music as you stared out the window.
On the airplane, Jaemin sat in the middle, with Jeno taking the aisle and you the window seat. For a while, all three of you were doing your own separate things, but about an hour and a half into the flight, Jaemin pulled out the nintendo switch, propping it up on the tray table and switching his gaze back and forth between you and Jeno with raised, expectant eyebrows. You wave him off, turning your attention back to the window as Jeno is the one to take the other controller from Jaemin’s hands. Together, they played through three circuits of mariokart before Jaemin finally turned it off and started trying to fall asleep, laying his head against your shoulder.
It was maybe fifteen minutes later when you feel a tap on your thigh. You quickly turn your attention from the window to the touch, tracing it back up to Jeno. He had booted up the switch again, mariokart waiting on the multiplayer home screen. You look back down to see one of the remotes held out for you in the hand that had gained your attention in the first place. You turn back to look at him; his eyes were wide in anticipation but he looked small as he silently asked for you to play with him. You breathe out a soft sigh, taking the remote from his hand before turning back to him. “I’m going to beat your ass.” You whisper over Jaemin’s head. Jeno turns to face the console rather than you to try and cover up the wide smile that your familiar tease placed on his lips. Unbeknownst to the two of you, the corners of Jaemin’s lips perked up in a grin, too, before he quickly started back on his attempt at falling asleep.
You must have played through every map with Jeno, with it unfortunately being a toss up for who took first on any given circuit. You finally hand him the remote back as he shuts the console down and situates himself so that he can fall asleep, too. You resumed your previous task of staring out the window and listening to music, Jaemin asleep on your shoulder and Jeno on his. Life wasn’t back to normal by a long shot, but a trip to Hawaii wasn’t necessarily normal either - so maybe despite it all, it was going to be okay.
Hours later, the three of you step into the hotel room which might as well have been a house. Three separate bedrooms and bathrooms for each of you, all connected by a kitchen and living room. With you not getting any sleep on the flight, you immediately started on unpacking and getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, Jaemin and Jeno just threw their bags on the floor and headed down to the bar in the lobby, a common way to kill time that they picked up back in college.
The next day, the dynamic was much the same. The guys hung around the beach and bar all day while you went for a bike ride down the coast, got a massage, randomly joined the hotel’s ping pong tournament where you were probably too excited to crush a thirteen year old in the finals, and remained pool-side for the rest of the first day.
When you finally met back up with Jaemin and Jeno, it was for dinner. You were given free drink coupons for winning the ping pong tournament, so you all decided to eat at the hotel restaurant just off the shore. You don’t think you had ever seen the boys as confused as when you told them the story behind the coupons, but they weren’t going to question it if it meant you were willing to share the free drinks with them.
Dinner itself was still awkward. It was either you talking to Jaemin or Jeno talking to Jaemin, and the other would pretend to be really invested in their food during the other’s conversation. Though, Jaemin didn’t seem bothered. At least, he didn’t push for the two of you to finally get over it and resolve the tension. So, you didn’t, and dinner became a game of you and Jeno trying to avoid eye contact at all costs.
Regardless, the night quickly came to a close, and when the opportunity arose to join Jaemin and Jeno on the living room couch and watch Forensic Files, you politely declined and turned on the TV in your own bedroom instead.
Trying to finally fall asleep around midnight would have been a lot easier if it didn’t decide to storm so horrendously. The lightning lit up everything around you as the thunder shook the room violently - or maybe it was just you that was violently shaking. You were never good with storms; they have always terrified you since you were little. Currently, this one had you curled up in a ball sitting atop your bed, silent tears rushing down your cheeks.
It was maybe twenty minutes into the storm when your bedroom door cracked open. You quickly wipe stray tears off your face as you look up to meet the presence standing meekly in the doorframe, their head turned down to face the floor. You knew the silhouette’s body frame, though, and it wasn’t Jaemin’s.
“Jeno?” You ask hoarsely.
Slowly, he brings his gaze up to meet yours, sucking on his bottom lip in hesitation before he speaks. “Are you still scared of storms?” He asks softly.
You freeze, wiping your eyes once more to make sure your face was clear of tears. “N-no.” You stammer out, voice cracking as you do. For some reason, Jeno just lets out a light exhale of laughter.
“You would be more convincing if you weren’t sitting in a ball and shaking.” He remarks more playfully. You just drop your face to stare into your knees, not wanting to look at him as you reply with words you couldn’t come back from.
“Please, just- come here.” You say in a near whisper, though Jeno picks up on it immediately. He finally moves from the door frame, stepping inside your room, shutting the door behind him, and joining you on top of your bed.
He sat beside you, less than a foot away but making sure not to touch you. Despite the fact that it was a considerate gesture, it felt kind of stupid seeing as all your interactions used to start and end with the biggest hugs; and now here you were, needing comfort, and Jeno was scared to touch you.
“How can I help take your mind off of it?” He asks, and you just shake your head. All this time, and you never figured out much to do other than wait it out in fear. That’s when another bout of lightning strikes, the crack of thunder feeling like it came from right behind you. Immediately, you flinch and start crying some more, and without spending too much time thinking about it, you lean into Jeno’s body at your left.
His breath hitches for the smallest of moments before he immediately wraps your balled figure in his arms, rubbing a comforting hand up and down your back. “Hey, it’s okay.” He says softly. You shake off his attempt to calm you down.
“I’m terrified, Jeno.” You mumble out weakly, and Jeno just takes a deep breath before pulling you closer to him.
“I know, but I got you.”
At his words, some tension leaves your body. All this time avoiding each other but still all you knew to do was trust Jeno. One of his hands remains running up and down your back, the other tightly wrapped around your body as you speak into his chest. “Were you still awake, too?” You ask, and you feel Jeno shake his head.
“No, but the second the storm woke me up, all I could think about was you and whether or not you were able to fall asleep before it started. I mean, you sleep through this stuff like a rock, but if you aren’t already sleeping when it starts, all you do is shake. I just- needed to come make sure you were okay, or…” He drags off for a second, sucking on his bottom lip as he stares down at you in his arms. “At least, not alone.”
You let out a heavy breath, not able to tell if you were more mad at the fact that Jeno knew you so well or that something like a storm made you panic and put you in this situation in the first place. “It’s stupid. I’m twenty-two years old. I shouldn’t be scared of storms anymore.”
“Y/n,” he says, but his soft tone comes with a bite of seriousness. “It’s not stupid. You don’t expect someone who’s afraid of spiders or snakes to ever get over it, no matter how old they are. It’s not childish to be afraid of something. Don’t put yourself in some weird double-standard.”
You shake your head that’s still buried in his chest. “Those are spiders and snakes - almost everyone finds those scary. These are storms.” You scoff, but Jeno cuts you off there.
He unravels one arm from around your body to instead place his hand under your chin and direct your tear-glazed gaze back to him, making sure you could see he was serious as he replied. “And they’re scary to you, which is all that matters to me.”
You quickly begin to cry again, this time because of his words rather than the storm. Your arms let go from their grip around your curled up legs so you can instead wrap them around Jeno’s waist and bury your head back into his chest. He just holds you closer in response, speaking into your hair. “We’ll wait it out together, yeah?” He prompts, but before you could even reply, he’s back to rubbing comforting circles on your skin, not giving you much of a choice.
He holds you in silence for a little bit, an innumerable amount of thoughts plaguing both of your minds as the storm still raged outside. However, when Jeno couldn’t remember the last big strike of lightning, he began to shift in his spot, an arm unraveling from your body. “I think it’s died down-”
That was as far as he got before he felt your arm grab his wrist and wrap it back around your body. In the darkness, he let the brightest smile reach his face, taking a moment to squeeze you extra tight. That’s when more lightning hit and your figure began to tremble in his arms again, the smallest of whimpers escaping you. Jeno let out a soft sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t worry. I won’t go anywhere.” He says smoothly. Though, as he shuffles slightly to check the time on his watch, he lets out a small exhale of laughter. “But you have to keep me entertained then. What’s new?” He asks playfully, but the question surprises you. New? Nothing on your mind was about anything new in your life and you couldn’t bring yourself to find anything new to talk about. So instead, you squeeze your eyes shut and build up the courage to address the one thing that was very much not new.
“Jeno, what was that all about when we were eighteen?” You ask, the words coming out more firm than any of your others so far that night.
Jeno’s arms around you stiffen, and he manages to let out a wry laugh. “Do you still think about that?” He asks in return, and you swear you could feel the knife through your chest this time.
“Every day. Am I not supposed to? Did that not matter to you?” You shoot back, finding more emotion with every word.
Jeno sighs deeply. “Y/n, nothing’s ever mattered to me more than that night…except maybe this one if I can get it right.” He speaks softly, hesitantly, as though he were scared of saying something wrong. He hasn’t yet, though. All he’s done is confuse you.
“What?” You ask, matching his voice level. Jeno shakes his head and you think he’s shutting off completely, but instead he just picks you up from out of the hug and places you so that you’re sitting face-to-face with him. Surprising you, he reaches out his hands and starts idly playing with your fingers. His head was dropped to face his lap, it was like having your touch was his last strength. Then he starts talking.
“Y/n, you’ve kept my heart and mind occupied for the last four years - before that, really. Long before that. The moment I understood what a crush was, I had a crush on you. All that tiny-me wanted to do was hold your hand.” As he says this, he ceases fiddling with your fingers to instead intertwine them with his own; staring at the interlocked hands with a weak grin before promptly pulling away again and dropping his hands to rest in front of his lap. “Um- but I couldn’t because of course that was the one thing Jaemin told me not to do. I couldn’t get involved with you. So, I didn’t, and I pretended to be interested in other girls in high school so that he wouldn’t get suspicious. But then that prom theme was announced and I found my one in - a stupid one, but an in. That was my one chance to do something about the ache in my chest all those years. Except, it really didn’t fix anything at all. We kissed and I haven’t known a day of peace since - my lips long for yours every second of every day. I didn’t date at all in college. Jaemin would tease me about the fact that I was one-half of the hot duo of best friends but never managed to get with a girl, and I didn’t know how to tell him my heart was already yours - that it’s been yours longer than it’s been mine.”
Suddenly, Jeno was making your world slow down again. His smooth voice saying words you didn’t know you needed to hear, bringing light to the dustiest corners of your heart, making you feel whole again, and yet, none of it made sense. “Then why- that morning- why…?” That was all you could get out before the tears previously pricking at the corners of your eyes began to speed down your cheeks. You didn’t need to finish your question though. Jeno knew exactly what you were getting at, and he was already preparing himself to address it before you even brought it up.
He shakes his head slowly, defeated as he draws back on the past. “I was a stupid eighteen year old kid. Every night, I go back to that morning and think about what I could’ve done differently - what I should’ve done. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t regret letting you walk away. The truth is, I was terrified. I didn’t want to lose either you or Jaemin, and I didn’t know how to address what happened without risking doing so; which feels stupid to say because acting how I did was a direct path to losing you. I never gave either of us the chance for closure and then lost you anyways. Every day since, I wanted to reach out, ask how you were, beg for you to let me back into your life, but I struggled with thinking I was worthy of that in the slightest. I still haven’t forgiven myself for it, I don’t think I deserve to. I don’t ever want to be okay with the fact that I let you walk away from me. I want to make sure I can never make that mistake again. That morning, I thought I could have my cake and eat it, too. I got to kiss you but I never had to let it get out and make Jaemin hate me. I was selfish when I decided not to talk about it that day. That’s the all of it. I was selfish. Which is funny because I was selfish when I asked to kiss you, too. I just don’t know how the same state of being could lead to the best thing I’ve ever done and the worst thing I’ve ever done.”
By the time he finished talking, silent tears were running down his face as well. You had never seen him as broken as he looked before you now, and when lightning flashed through the entire room and thunder rumbled through you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you could care about was Jeno.
“So, if we went back-” You start, but Jeno had already whipped his head up to face you, his sure gaze looking out of place amidst his tear-stained face.
“I would’ve told you we could talk about it whenever you wanted - whenever you were ready, and if it was that very second, I would’ve started explaining. Every time you’ve made my heart race and my stupid plan that formed the second I heard the theme for prom. How kissing you truly was like fireworks going off and it drove me crazy in all the best ways. How I want to be able to kiss you again and again if you’d let me, and that when Jaemin inevitably finds out, I’d take the blame for everything, but the last thing I’d do is apologize for it. I’d never apologize for loving you, the opposite, actually; I’d shout it out to the streets, people would be tired of hearing how much I care about you.” He manages to let the smallest of laughs play on his lips, but his gaze drops back down to his lap as embarrassment flushes his cheeks. “I mean- I don’t even know if you liked me back, but if you did, that would have been the last time you ever woke up without a goodmorning kiss from me.”
You let out a light sigh, facing the comforter to hide the weak smile that painted its way across your face. When you finally pick your head back up, your arm moves up with it. Gently, you place a hand on Jeno’s cheek, thumb moving to wipe at the tears under his eyes as you guide his gaze back to you. The two of you held eye contact, your breathing and the rain outside being the only sounds to fill the room before you spoke up with a small encouraging nod. “Jeno, it’s okay to forgive yourself.” You say softly, and you watch as Jeno breaks.
His soft, silent tears turned into him bawling his eyes out, and you watch as he leaned forward, grabbing for you, hiding his face in the fabric of your shirt as his tears stain your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him tightly, occasionally running a hand through his hair as you wait for his sobs to stop.
When he finally calms down, he pulls back from the hug again, wiping his face clean of tears, and dodging your eye contact. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles out, but you shake your head.
“I forgave you a long time ago...way before I wanted to, but I couldn't help it.” You say seriously, and Jeno finds the strength to meet your gaze again, enough for you to see the shock and question in his eyes. “I wanted to reach out, but I just- never knew how to begin again after all of that.” You continue solemnly.
Jeno nods his head in contemplation, but soon enough, a small hopeful smile accompanies his features again. “We can start like this.” He says softly. Then he picks you up, turning you around and placing you back down on his lap, his arms wrapping around your torso from behind as his chin rests on your shoulder. “Tell me everything I missed from the last four years.” He prompts, and at every point where you could have fought back, you don’t. Instead, a grin spreads across your face and you just start talking.
Jeno listens to you talk for what seemed like an hour at least, and in turn you do the same as he recounts every story from college that Jaemin hadn’t already told you…and some that he had - if it was a crime to enjoy listening to Jeno talk, then so be it. Though, once you caught each other up to speed, neither of you were content with heading to bed. Instead, you continued to talk about everything imaginable. The storm outside could have raged on, you weren’t aware. The only worry you had was whether you and Jeno were laughing so loud that it would wake up Jaemin.
Eventually, the two of you had moved so that Jeno’s legs were laid out in front of him and your head was on his lap as you lay down perpendicular to his figure. You were in the middle of talking about obscure superpowers you would want, and why your choice was much better than Jeno’s. You rambled for who knows how long, but you finally look up to meet Jeno’s soft gaze, a corner of his mouth perked up in a smirk that you couldn’t describe as anything else but fond. Immediately, you cut yourself off, furrowing your brows at Jeno as you change the subject. “Stop looking at me like that.” You say, and Jeno seems to visibly snap back to the present moment.
“Like what?” He questions genuinely, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Like you want to kiss me.” You reply plainly.
Jeno lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I do want to kiss you, it’s not just a look.” He says, taking one of his hands to brush your hair out of your face.
You sigh, turning your head away to face the wall rather than him. “Jeno, I can’t fold that quickly. Not after four years of building up walls.” You say in a near whisper.
His smirk fades as he purses his lips, hurt flashing across his features as he thinks back on the past four years. He swallows harshly, still running his fingers through your hair as he responds. “I know. I’m not asking you to. It’s my fault they’re there in the first place. You just asked what my look was about, so I figured I should tell you. I’ll try not to make it so obvious. I don’t mean to make things awkward between us now.”
As he finishes talking, you move to face him again, brows furrowed in confusion and you realize you never addressed one specific thing he said. “Jeno, you won’t make things awkward between us. You said you don’t know if I even liked you back during senior year but- Jeno, I’ve had a crush on you for forever. I’ve always liked you back. I liked you back before I even knew I was liking you ‘back.’ I didn’t care - you were everything I ever wanted growing up, and though you’re an idiot sometimes, you still are.” At your words, tension visibly leaves Jeno’s body, small smiles teasing at both your lips as you make eye contact.
“Y/n, I know we’re still getting over years of hurt, and my actions meant you had it a lot worse but- if you really mean it, I’ll wait forever for your walls to come down again. It’s just you for me.”
You sit back upright again, facing Jeno and trying not to think about how red your face felt and therefore probably was. “Just give me a little bit of time. When I get tired of you staring at me like that and not actually kissing me, I’ll talk to Jaemin. It’ll be a much easier conversation for him to have with me than if it were with you. Then the second he agrees to get rid of his stupid rule, I’m running right to you and kissing your pretty lips. Just give me some more time to heal.”
Jeno nods, his crescent-eyed smile revealing itself for the first time since the trip started. “You have all the time in the world.” He reassures, but you just laugh a little bit, not missing an opportunity to tease him.
“Well, I should probably figure things out before we’re old and gray. ‘All the time in the world’ might not be the best-” He cuts you off, shaking his head.
“Nope. Not a problem. Not when time stops while I’m with you.” He replies confidently, and you freeze as your teasing attempt gets turned on its head.
“Oh, shut up.” You say playfully, and when Jeno’s cheeks puff out as he smiles in response, you don’t think twice before leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to one of them. You immediately dodge eye contact as you pull back, but Jeno doesn’t let you off the hook that easily. He grabs at one of your hands, pulling your body back to face him and his stupid perfect smile.
“I so got you.” He says, but instead of a hint of arrogance covering his words, they’re spoken as though he can’t believe his luck. You duck your head, laughing a little.
“Give me time - if not to get over my hurt then at least to build up courage to talk to Jaemin. Besides, I’d like to spend some more time with you under the best-friend label again anyways. I’ve missed it.” You say, and Jeno nods, already on the same wavelength as you.
You don’t question it when the best-friend label looks a little different the rest of the night than it has in the past. Neither you nor Jeno had any intention of going to bed anymore, but that didn’t change the fact that laying down was the comfiest position, and if that came with Jeno spooning you as you both continued to talk about every topic in existence, well…you were just really close best friends.
When you look over at the nightstand and realize a bright 6:28 on the clock is facing you back, you figure it was an acceptable time to actually start the morning. “You wanna go make coffee?” You ask plainly. You had reached the point where you’ve been without sleep for so long that it felt like you were fully energized again, completely ready to start the day. Jeno seemed to have been the same way, because your regular tone as opposed to your previously light, soft statements didn’t faze him. Although, he seemed thoroughly against your idea of getting up, shaking his head as he spoke.
“I can’t hold you if we’re out there.” He says through a pout, causing you to laugh. The two of you managed to find your way back to sitting up during the early hours of the morning, and he currently had you locked in your position on his lap, with no intentions of letting go.
You run your hands over his arms around you, the light touch sending shivers throughout Jeno’s body. “You’ve held me for the past six hours. I think you should be sick of it by now.” You reply playfully, but Jeno just raises his eyebrows in suspicion.
“Are you sick of it yet?” He teases, and all you can do is purse your lips because you knew he just won.
Instead of giving him an answer, you just start trying to unravel his arms from around your body. “Not relevant.” You say through a smile. “Come on, Jen. Let’s make coffee.”
Within milliseconds, Jeno has let you go and is up off the bed. “Okay! Let’s go!” He replies in a rush. You stare at him in confusion, wondering what had him flip so quickly.
“Are you okay?” You ask with a laugh. Jeno just gives you the biggest crescent-eyed smile.
“You called me ‘Jen.’”
Your eyebrows remain raised, though now it’s more so because of skepticism rather than confusion. “You’re all giddy because I took one letter off your name?” You question, and Jeno just ducks his head to avoid eye contact with you. You roll your eyes instead. “Remind me in the future not to give you any pet names. Not if you’re already like this over ‘Jen.’” You tease, but Jeno shoots his head back up to look at you, betrayal crossing his features. You let out a light laugh. “I’m kidding. Let’s go.” You say, and Jeno finds his smile again as he grabs your hand to pull you out of bed, your fingers instantly falling from each other the second you open your bedroom door and step into the living area.
Jeno motions for you to sit down at the table while he makes his way behind the counter and to the coffee machine. You watch as he grabs two mugs, and you know he’s starting on making your coffee first so it can cool down a bit while his own brews. You study his figure intently, a grateful smile coming onto your face as you duck your head, taking in the fact that this was another chance at the morning after prom, except this time, you’ve already done all the talking; now he just gets to make coffee and keep your already full heart company.
You think the second coffee was halfway through brewing by the time you look back up towards Jeno. You freeze when you realize he was already staring at you, his features soft. He can’t stop the smile, nor the blush, from coming onto his face as you look back at him, and he immediately directs his attention back to the coffee machine, shaking his head as his smile grows bigger the more he dwells on the moment, and you know he’s thinking the same thing you were, this time thanking his lucky stars that you were still sitting there smiling back at him.
Soon, it was just you and Jeno sitting across from each other, drinking coffee, watching the sun rise through the window, occasionally kicking each other’s feet underneath the table, and continuing with your never ending conversation. You were on your second round of coffee, Jeno on his third, when another bedroom door opens and Jaemin walks out lazily. Your face falls into concern as you fade out of your conversation with Jeno. “Hey, Jaem. Sorry if we were the reason you woke up.” You say genuinely, but he shakes it off.
“No, you’re all good. There was just some laughing that-” He cuts himself off, finally seeming to focus his attention on the scene in front of him. “Laughing? You guys are talking?” He questions, his tired expression immediately off his face.
You and Jeno share matching smiles as you stare back at Jaemin. “We were both up early and decided maybe holding grudges was not the thing to do in paradise.” Jeno replies, taking a moment to move his gaze from Jaemin and back over to you softly. You miss it though, just nodding along with his words as you watch relief wash over your brother.
“Thank god.” He breathes out with a laugh, getting you and Jeno to chuckle as well. Immediately, Jaemin is grabbing his own coffee and sitting down with you both, hardly caring about it not even being eight in the morning yet because his best friends were back.
The three of you sat around the table drinking too much coffee for about another hour before deciding to go on a walk along the coast. Jaemin was still in the middle, with you and Jeno and either end, but it was no longer to stifle the tension. Instead, conversation flowed as it always had between the three of you since you were five years old. Suddenly, the idea of having maybe canceled on the graduation trip just because Jeno was going to be here felt nauseating. This was how it was always meant to be, the three of you together and Jaemin at least playing the part of oblivious to the feelings you and Jeno could hardly suppress. Truthfully, there was no reason for Jaemin to be suspicious. Looking at the bigger picture, if he hadn’t suspected something was up during your high school years, there’s no way he would be able to tell that those very same feelings were still very much there.
When Jaemin suggested lunch a few hours later, you politely declined. “I actually think I’m gonna go up to the room and take a nap for a bit.” You say casually, though Jaemin looks at you as if you had two heads.
“A nap? You never take naps.” He shoots back in confusion. You let out a small laugh, knowing he wasn’t wrong, but then you bring your gaze back up to meet his own with a light shake of your head.
“I didn’t sleep because of the storm last night, so I’m pretty exhausted still.” You reply, but the confusion doesn’t leave Jaemin’s face.
“It stormed last night?!” He questions, apparently having slept through any trace of it. You and Jeno let out a laugh, nodding your heads.
“Yeah, it was pretty bad.” You answer, and Jaemin flashes his eyebrows in recognition before he turns back to you with worry in his eyes.
“Were you okay?” He asks, hints of guilt in his voice knowing how badly storms scared you while he was just sleeping peacefully through it. You quickly rid him of any worry, though, a small smile coming onto your face as you nod.
“Yeah,” you start softly, and it takes everything in you to not look over at Jeno and surely give away what exactly happened last night. “I was okay.”
Jaemin’s shoulders visibly lose tension as he takes in your positive answer, then he nods his head. “Okay. Well, you can go back up to the room, then. Text us whenever you wake up and we’ll let you know where we’re at-” He says, but Jeno jumps in.
“Actually, Jaemin, I think a few more hours of sleep would do wonders for me, too.” He says with a chuckle. The statement surprises both you and Jaemin, though Jeno continues without missing a beat. “Would you be okay if I went up to the room for a bit, too?”
Whereas you were worried Jaemin would start putting things together, he just shrugged, his reply full of sarcasm. “Oh no, I’m alone in paradise and the bar has already opened for the day.” He says with raised uninterested eyebrows. “I think I’ll be just fine.”
The three of you share a bit of laughter before you and Jeno break from Jaemin to go back up to the hotel. You waste no time in slipping right back into pajamas and under the covers, your fatigue fully hitting once you were actually laying down again. Within seconds though, your bedroom door opens and in comes Jeno, pajamas adorning his figure as well. He wastes no time in making his way directly next to you in bed. You just watch as he immediately clings to you, wrapping an arm around your torso and shutting his eyes tight. You let out a small laugh - you should’ve known. “You’re an idiot.” You say playfully, and Jeno opens his eyes back up to stare at you with a pout.
“So, I can’t stay?” He asks, almost completely in defeat if you couldn’t pick up on the hint of playfulness he also shared in his tone.
You roll your eyes, speaking plainly. “You can, but we’re actually sleeping this time. You’re the reason I’m so tired in the first place.”
With your positive response, Jeno instantly pulled you closer to him, but he doesn’t let you take a stab at him that easily. “That wasn’t me, that was the storm.” He replies confidently, but you can practically see the smirk adorning his face, regardless of you being turned away from him. You shake your head with a smile, flipping around in his arms so that he was forced on his back, with you taking up half of his chest so you could face him.
His familiar smirk was, in fact, painted across his lips, a slight tease in his eyes as he stared back at you. All at once, a wave of extreme consciousness hits you and you realize the only reason you moved to face him was because you were fully intending to kiss him after his remark. You feel your face go beet red and you immediately hide it in his chest. Jeno was oblivious to the internal battle you had put yourself through, figuring this was just how you wanted to sleep. He gently ran one hand through your hair before wrapping both his arms around your body and humming contently against the top of your head.
You instantly decide that you couldn’t look back up and face Jeno right now, so you accept the fact that you were going to fall asleep listening to the drumbeat of his heart. What surprises you is the fact that, for as long as you were awake, his heart rate never seemed to calm down; and what you didn’t know is that he looked at you sound asleep in his arms for far too long before he could convince himself that it may be worth missing this moment in front of him to actually get some sleep, too.
When you eventually wake up, you haven’t moved an inch from where you fell asleep on Jeno’s chest. His breathing was still stable, and a peek up at him confirmed he was still sleeping. A soft smile forms on your face at the sight of him, his hair all messy again from being against the pillow and making him look extra cute rather than hot and bothersome. You move your gaze over to the clock on the nightstand, letting you know that you had been asleep for almost two hours, and you figure the most important thing to do was step out from your bedroom and make sure Jaemin didn’t come back to the hotel and realize Jeno wasn’t in his own room.
So, you snake out of Jeno’s arms, trying your best not to wake him up. His arms fall from around you to on top of his own chest, but it doesn’t seem to disturb him, and you take that as a sign to continue silently sneaking out of your bedroom. You do a quick check around the hotel room, breathing a little easier seeing that none of it seemed touched by your brother recently. However, looking at your phone, you’re greeted with unread messages from Jaemin, asking how long you were going to be out for and if you all could catch the movie night on the shore that the hotel was hosting later on.
You shoot back a text saying that you just woke up and would go bother Jeno until he was out of bed, too, adding on that the movie night sounded great. Then, you make your way back to your room to actually go bother Jeno until he woke up.
However, bothering him looked a lot different than how you would typically bother Jaemin. Gently, you let your fingers glide through his hair, his soft hums in response causing you to smile. You move your hand down to instead brush against his cheek, and knowing that he was awake, though he had yet to open his eyes, you start talking softly. “Hey, you ready to get up?” You ask, though it wasn’t much of a question.
Jeno shakes his head, his eyes still squeezed shut. “Not really. How long has it been?” He asks, his voice low and grainy, and suddenly you’re glad he hasn’t opened his eyes yet to see how red your face has gotten because of it.
“Almost two hours.” You reply lightly, and Jeno takes an extra long inhale just to let out a deep sigh. “Come on, Jen.” You continue, gently rubbing the back of your hand across his cheek. At the nickname, Jeno finally gives in, peeking one eye open to look at you before his face turns red and he opens both eyes with a small smile. “What?” You question with furrowed brows.
Jeno shakes his head. “Nothing. I just- like you being the first thing I see when I wake up.” He says through his smile, and you just roll your eyes.
“You’re really bad at being just a best friend.” You tease, and Jeno’s smile turns playful.
“I’d say ‘I’ll work on it,’ but I’m not trying to be just a best friend long enough for it to matter.” He replies, and the blush races to cover your face again, too.
“You’re actually the worst.” You shoot back, the grin still on your face.
Jeno smirks at you, but the look in his eyes is fond. “You don’t mean that.” He counters, and you drop your head to face your lap, knowing he wasn’t wrong.
“Whatever.” You say with a laugh as you turn to start exiting your room again. “Please get out of bed before Jaemin gets bored and comes back to the room. He’s already texted me asking how long we’ll be. And I’m serious, going back up to the room to take a nap while I did is the last suspicious thing you can do on this trip.”
Jeno matches your laugh, putting his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine. But it’s not my fault you’re the prettiest girl in the world. What am I supposed to do? Not have the biggest crush on you? That’s not an option.”
You freeze and slowly bring your body back around to face Jeno. The instant your gaze meets his easy smirk, your head is facing the floor and your tongue darts out to lick your lips for a moment as you convince yourself not to give in with every breath. He lets out a heavy exhale that was meant to be laughter as he finally slides out of bed and walks up to where you were, placing the lightest kiss on the top of your head. “That’ll be the last of it.” He says softly, then making his way to freshen up before the two of you meet with Jaemin again.
To your surprise, Jeno followed instructions well. The rest of the night included zero stolen touches or longing stares. Instead, it reflected any given night from your high school careers, and while you still could hardly stand the ache in your chest that popped up any time you were around Jeno, you wouldn’t have traded it for the world, because the three of you were happy all at the same time again - only slightly aided by the gelato in your hands and the old Disney movie projected on the screen set up by the shore.
It was sometime after midnight when you all finally got back to the hotel room, and as Jaemin showered, Jeno stood at your bedroom door and begged for you to let him sneak in during the night and sneak back out early the next morning. You stared at him in disinterest, or at least tried to. “I’m not letting you sleep with me while Jaemin is across the hall. I’m sure you can control yourself for one night, Jeno.” You say, figuring starting out with ‘one night’ would be more effective than telling him he’d have to control himself for a huge chunk of the foreseeable future.
Jeno pouted, but when you just raise your eyebrows at him in response, he knows he’s lost, slumping back over to his own room and leaving you to get ready for the night.
It was a little after breakfast the next morning when you all found yourselves back at the beach. The two boys stayed lounging on the chairs in the sand, claiming they were waiting for the sun to actually come out and heat up the ocean a bit before they would get in. You rolled your eyes at them, entering the water with ease as you spent some time by yourself.
“Jeno, you’re staring at my sister.” Jaemin’s even voice cuts through the air, bringing Jeno back to reality and making him conscious of the fact that he truly was staring at you. Instead of getting embarrassed, he lets out a small defeated laugh.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to stare at her…just getting used to having her in my life again.” Jeno didn’t care if his statement implied that he would previously stare at you all of the time, too - he was tired of lying anyways. Jaemin just nods slowly, moving his gaze from Jeno and over to you some distance away in the water.
“You know, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I know it was your fault.” Jaemin continues, his tone not giving any hint as to his emotions. There was no playful tease hidden in his statement, nor was there even a trace of contempt. For the first time, Jeno thought, Jaemin was unreadable, and he didn’t know how to take it.
“Ouch.” Jeno replies through an exhale meant to double as laughter.
“Am I wrong?” Jaemin asks casually.
Jeno shoots his gaze somewhere off to the side, his face finally losing the bits of playfulness he tried so hard to keep in the situation. “...no.” He replied in almost a whisper, and Jaemin lets something of a grimace cross his features.
He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze constantly shifting between you and Jeno before it falls to face his own lap with a sigh. “Don’t hurt her again.” He finally says monotonously, but the mention of ‘again’ has Jeno whipping his head towards him. Jaemin dodges his gaze, just continues speaking. “That’s always been the one reason to have that stupid rule since we were kids. I don’t have anything against you. You’re my best friend. I trust you probably more than anyone with her.” He says, and it’s then that he lifts his gaze to stare back at a wide-eyed Jeno, making sure he could tell he was serious as he continued. “I just don’t want her getting hurt, and I knew no one would hurt her as much as you if things went wrong.”
Jeno swallows hard, he couldn’t tell if the weight of the world was currently falling off of his shoulders or crashing onto them. The shock he previously bore on his face almost immediately falls into remorse as he thinks about Jaemin’s words. “I’m sorry for hurting her the first time.” He says firmly, this time Jeno being the one to make sure Jaemin could feel the sincerity of his statement.
To Jeno’s surprise, Jaemin finally lets out a small laugh to accompany his nod, directing his gaze back to you in the ocean. “I know.” He replies, and a wave of relief washes over Jeno as he’s able to crack a small grateful smile, too. Though, some parts of Jaemin’s words were still poking at the back of Jeno’s mind.
“How long have you known that I liked her?” He asks weakly, dreading how many more stupid past decisions he had no reason to make as a futile attempt to hide his feelings - how many lies he didn’t need to tell, should Jaemin have already known anyway.
Jaemin dispels his worry, shaking his head. “Part of me saw it as inevitable, so there was always a gut feeling, but I never knew how you felt towards her with any confidence while we were growing up. It’s just- two best friends don’t stop talking immediately after prom for no reason. I figured feelings finally had to have gotten involved that night.” Jeno nods his head solemnly, opening his mouth to reply but Jaemin cuts him off. “Don’t apologize again.” He says with a laugh as Jeno flicks his gaze back up to him. “I don’t want to hear another apology and I don’t want to know what happened. Just- don’t hurt her again, that’s all I ask.”
Jeno’s gaping mouth turns into a soft understanding smile, and he looks back out to finally face you again. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Jeno debated telling you about his conversation with Jaemin for the rest of vacation. The second it happened, he wanted to run right to you, tell you that Jaemin wouldn’t mind if the two of you were together, and immediately make you his girl. However, he knew that you really wanted to have your own eventual conversation about it with Jaemin, and when you decide you’re ready to have said conversation and move things along with Jeno was not his own call to make. So, he kept it to himself, but now when he would stare at you as though you were the entire world, it wasn’t Jaemin’s attention he was afraid of catching, it was yours…cause the last thing he was going to do was break his promise to you about suspicious stuff.
That of course meant that for the rest of vacation, you were clueless as to what had put such a giant, permanent grin on Jeno’s face. His crescent-eyed smile was more present than ever, and for the boy who you came to learn knew no anger, it was starting to seem like he knew nothing but happiness at all - how were you to know that you were the reason why?
You were expecting the day after you got back from Hawaii to be boring at best, with nothing to do but unpack your luggage…and maybe also your feelings. You dreaded the idea of putting away over a week’s worth of clothes knowing that this closet wasn’t part of some hotel in Ko’Olina, but your own home.
However, Jaemin quickly saved you from the torture, standing in the doorway and waiting for you to turn your attention to him. The second you realize he’s there, you turn off your music, facing him again with expectant eyebrows…which strangely matched his own. He had a smirk painted across his lips as he leaned against the doorframe and you had a gut-feeling you wouldn’t like where this was going.
“Are you going to talk to me about Jeno yet?” He asks casually, and your stomach drops as your eyes widen. You quickly return your attention to folding the laundry on your bed.
“What about Jeno?” You reply with a light laugh, trying to play it cool, but Jaemin just shakes his head, finally moving towards you with more intent.
“Y/n, I’ve watched you fall in love with him every time he’s walked through our front door since we were five.” He replies, the statement falling from his lips as though he didn’t even have to think about it - cause he wasn’t lying. Your face drops and your hands fall idly at your side rather than messing with your clothes.
“I’m not in love with him.” You say weakly, but you knew better, too. You could feel the way your face would glow every time you laid eyes on him, and Jaemin knew you even better than you knew yourself. Whatever defense you could build, he’s already seen right through.
“I wouldn’t be mad if you were, you know?”
You freeze at his words, sighing deeply before turning to look at your brother. “Jaem, are you trying to get me to tell you things you already know?” You watch as a small grin reaches his face again.
“It would be nice to hear it from you, yeah.”
You shake your head, quickly losing the courage to look at him. “I don’t understand why you’re not mad. What you’re trying to get me to admit is the exact thing you made rules against.”
Jaemin rolls his lips inward before shaking his head. “Yeah well, being mad at my sister is not my favorite thing in the world, so I try to avoid it unless absolutely necessary.” He says lightly, but when you still can’t meet his gaze, he sighs, adding on. “This is not one of those times…Besides, what I was trying to prevent in making that rule has already happened despite it, so it doesn’t much matter now.”
You process Jaemin’s words with pursed lips. “You didn’t want me getting hurt.” You softly claim, though you let it hang as a question for Jaemin to confirm.
“No, I didn’t. Though, since it’s already happened and you seemed to have made it through just fine, I’d rather not care about whether or not you’re hurt as much as whether or not you’re happy.”
You finally turn to look back at your brother again, his eyebrows raised expectantly. As you make eye contact, he unravels his arms from where they were crossed against his chest to instead hold them out for you to fall into, which you do; stepping into his hug as comfort immediately washes over you. “Jeno makes me really happy.” You say, and admitting that to Jaemin in this context seemed to finally settle the ground beneath your feet, like the entire world was waiting for your confession.
Jaemin laughs a bit, holding you slightly tighter in the hug. “I know. You make him really happy, too.” When Jaemin realizes you don’t intend to respond to that, he lets out a light sigh. “So…you should probably go to him and be all happy together, yeah?” He continues playfully. You whip your head out of his chest to look up at him.
“Are you sure you’re okay if your sister dates your best friend?” You ask seriously, though by now, a huge smile has made its way across your lips. Jaemin scrunches his face, looking back down at you.
“Maybe refrain from saying it like that and yeah, I’ll be okay. Besides, he’s our best friend, not just mine.” At his words, you’re practically jumping to get out of Jaemin’s arms, and he lets you go with a laugh. You scramble for your phone, immediately calling Jeno, who picks up on the first ring.
“Hello.” His voice cuts through the speaker as you’re already rushing out of your room.
“Go outside!” You command, and you hear Jeno’s laugh on the other end.
“What? Why?” He responds playfully, but you don’t take it.
“Go outside! I’m serious!” You reply.
“Chill, I went outside the second you told me to the first time. What’s this about?” He asks, but you’re too busy running through the downstairs and to the front door, trying not to crash into any furniture. You open the front door and turn to your left towards Jeno’s house two doors down. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he hangs up the phone, but he doesn’t have time to question the huge smile on your face before you’re already darting towards him, and he seems to finally understand where this is going as he prepares himself to catch you.
As predicted, your run towards him only ends when you jump into his waiting arms, your legs wrapping around his torso as he spins you around once before resting his forehead against yours. “Kiss me, Jeno.” You breathe out, and Jeno wastes no time. There it was again, the fireworks, and the feeling in your chest that you never wanted this moment to end.
“About time.” Your mom says, peeking out from the doorframe where Jaemin was standing and watching the two of you.
Jaemin drops his head with a small laugh. “Yeah, about time.”
genre/s יִ،⠀fluff. a tinge of comedy. bridgerton period. royalty!AU. rofan.
warning/s יִ،⠀profanity. little to inaccurate representations of the regency era. being chased. overpraising of jeno's beauty (not guilty).
wc יִ،⠀10.3k
a/n יִ،⠀i might have underestimated the word count—i thought it was going to be short for a oneshot but oh well. THANK YOU FOR THE LONG AWAITED ANTICIPATION. i honestly couldn't have done it without you guys. if u liked it, i'd like to hear your thoughts about it thru reblog, comments, or even an ask! tyvm for waiting <(_ _)>
synopsis יִ،⠀it was all self-inflicted pressure when the spotlight finally turned to you as the final member of the family to experience a love story—the miracle that has been passed down from your parents down to your siblings and the privilege of love in marriage that has been jealoused upon the ton of high society. though the world might have run out of love stories available for you when your family took it all to their delight, or so you thought.
IT'S DAUNTING TO BE IN THIS SCENERY. The mere presence of the most extravagant things seen by spectators of this ballroom and the contrasting sentiments you had within it.
A rush of cold blood runs from your head down to your fidgeting fingers, though you can’t quite pick on your fingers like how you’d used to without gloves.
Everything here is tremendously uncomfortable.
After a few gentlemen who asked for your hand for a dance after conversations, to which you’ve escaped with excuses of going to the powder room, an imaginary friend calling you from afar, and many more lame reasons you could come up with, you’re back to the place where your mother left you a couple of songs ago.
All the sharp eyes that hid uncomfortable curiosity and the reoccurring implicit words that only let you converse about anything but yourself.
Inheritance and fascination about your family’s wealth and the sudden showers of compliments and two-faced flirting tactics—it was getting repetitive.
How could it be not known that the youngest daughter of the emperor's most influential and right-hand man and adviser was to debut in this season? Every man that you approached and conversed with would immediately recognize you and call your name before you even introduced yourself; the striking appearance of the marquess passed down to yours and feminized. No noble nor commoner could not recognize a child of the man whom the ruler of this kingdom entrusted and was well-endowed by every fertile land and mine.
Despite this, there was a more interesting mystic that involved not only your father but your whole family.
Love and marriage.
The oddest and rarest words that could be found together, as marriage is only ever seen as a necessity when a noble comes of age. Politics, business partnerships, and also harshly done to pay for debts, so there was no chance that marriage could turn into something romantic when it is established outside of those forms—yet bizarrely, your family is in a different light.
Your parents, the marquess, and marchioness were wed out of political convenience and yet ended up being the love match of their season, leading to their children being raised with it. Your first-born older sister’s husband might come off as someone who forcefully wed your sister to marriage but was wed out of love at first sight; your older brother with scandalous womanizer antics in the circle and yet is trying to bury the fact that his childhood friend from across our manor's street is slowly becoming the person of his desires and is oblivious that it is also reciprocated.
Love is contagious in this family, and you hate that it's a standard in your family to be wed out of it.
It is incredibly obnoxious. All you knew was that it was the oddest feeling you've seen from your family after seeing those subtle gestures of endearment they shared with their partners. There was always that softness and warmth in their eyes whenever they looked at their significant other despite them looking away.
How powerful is love that it makes a person pacify and willingly consign themselves for the other?
Perhaps you were the end of it.
Such a thing couldn't be held within a grasp of hand if you wanted it right this instance, but in every attempt for you to engage and entertain such thoughts with other gentlemen—something sparks different in their eyes.
Deceitment. They view you as a spectacle—the love that surrounded your family was their tool to win you over, and it terrifies you.
To achieve love, did it have to be this manipulative and hurtful?
Your expectations crashed down with every interaction you had with every man in this hall.
You were simply a target in their eyes.
The uncomfortable hunting gazes they shared with you and their presence alone induced such an invasive depth of cautiousness in you.
To be perceived without any control of the situation, far from the peaceful environment you had within your own confinements before you debuted. The tightness you endured from your corset is nothing more than what your chest and breathing had right now. With a frantic heartbeat and the cold pump of blood rushing into you, you don’t notice someone calling out for your attention.
“Dear?” A firm hand wrapped around your arms, and you jumped from the sudden contact until you recognized your mother's voice, disrupting the unconscious well in your eyes.
“Mama,” you replied.
“Are you feeling well? You've been here ever since I talked to the whole ton of this banquet. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Your mother rubbed your arms firmly.
“It's nothing, mama. Just the nerves.” you returned.
“So, how are things going? Have you enjoyed the evening with a charming gentleman, perhaps?” she told you with a teasing tone, beaming a smile at the view of dancing couples and the beautiful quartet's piece gracing the air.
She trusted that with your lively nature, you would talk to any gentleman without any push of encouragement from her, so she left you alone to fend for your own partner. With your pesky and womanizer antic of your brother, what would go wrong when you were left alone in your first debutante ball?
Alas, she forgot that you were a shut-in marquis’ daughter and that your brother is the exact reason why you can't continue to converse with any gentleman in this banquet. Violence and disgust were the only emotions you ever had with the opposite sex in the comforts of your own home, but to be faced with strangers and to be expected to converse well with them? Indeed, different emotions other than what you feel around your brother were reeling in—most of it anxiety.
“Oh, yes! The gentlemen are very charming and very pleasing to look at while I am dancing.” you strayed a forced laugh by the end in an unstable voice, and you coughed to clear it, now grinning to your mother's way in hopes that she'd not find you suspicious.
The marchioness heaved a joyous chuckle at herself as she looked at you proudly, wrapping her arms around yours to link it.
“I am so happy for you, dear.” she embraced you and pulled away as she looked at you adoringly, “If you're feeling more enthusiastic, I could interest you with other gentlemen—”
“How delightful!” An annoying pipsqueak cuts out mother and has snuck through you from the crowd of desperate and awestruck women frolicking at him, inducing you to roll your eyes at him—the rightful heir of the marquis-dom and your older brother, Haechan.
You were at the least thankful for his presence right now, as your mother could’ve suggested something preposterous if he didn’t interrupt.
He cheekily greeted you with a grin and bowed mockingly.
Those familiar eyes of deceit always brought a chill to your spine.
Don't tell me.
“Good evening, missus debutante. Still not up to the offer that this fine brother of yours will be your first name on your dance card?” The marchioness pinched his arms, and he winced, breaking his dashing persona as he woefully looked at your mother beside him.
“Haechan, have you no concern? Your sister is actually having the time of her life, enjoying the lining lords for her hand tonight while you have been out here, just making your chances with another set of women for you to play with.” Haechan rubbed his injured arm and formed a slight pout.
“What line of suit—” he did not finish as you immediately pinched his side, making him snap his head at you with bloodshot eyes.
“Make yourself useful and go out there. I have someone I want her to be introduced to.” your mother insisted.
“Mama, please. I don't want any of this bloody extravaganza,” you said through gritted teeth, and you likewise got a tug from your mother on your sides, her eyes wide openly glaring at you.
“Y/N! Language,” she whisper-shouted, and you mumbled an annoyed apology in return.
“I should tell you, Y/N,” Haechan spoke up, looking at you with mischief in his eyes, the corner of his mouth upturned.
“Don't you dare.” you mouthed at him.
“—A dance! A dance doesn’t really make them your definitive husband, dear sister.” he apathetically commented and crossed his arms, giving you a smug look.
You furrowed your eyebrows at him. You could even feel your ears and nostrils shooting out warm air.
“That is true.” your mother replied. “Although it truly matters who you're dancing with at your debutante gala.” The marchioness starts, and you can shoot a look at her and sigh that she's even doing her sermons at this event. “It resembles the refined attitude and talents of a noble lady. In short, it defines their role in society. For example, your older sister’s husband, the Duke of Rogan. He might be considered the tyrant who mercilessly killed a thousand of the enemy’s army last year, but he is devilishly handsome. You wouldn’t want your sister to be looked upon as with plain rigid taste in marital circles because her first dance is with someone like, well—”
“Like Lord Hopworth.” Your brother continued.
“Hm. Yes, a gentleman with a love for his horses that he only smells of stables and dirt.” Your mother helplessly agrees and fans herself in shame, discussing such gossip circle topics with her children.
“Comparing sister’s husband to Lord Hopworth…they are both in different leagues, mother. I, on the other hand, have no issues whatsoever with the man's hobbies and his reputation in the marital circle. Still, he has already danced with all the women in his family during the past three marital seasons. Might a miracle of a chance would only appear if a distant cousin would appear out of thin air or if Y/N had the wits to ask him a dance.” Haechan chuckled to himself proudly, uttering from you a gasp.
Your brother has been testing your waters ever since he joined your company, and this growing annoyance soon turns into an outburst.
“Explains why women who danced with my unwed brother for three years are still not wed by now. You're just trying hard to hide the fact that you have feelings for your best friend.” you retorted back.
“Y/N! That's crude.” your mother criticizes your sudden remark.
Haechan's eyes grow open in every passing second, and his breathing stops. In a while, he snaps his head away, half-suppressing a snicker.
“Well, look who's talking. See, mother.” Haechan started, and you could feel your chest suddenly heavy.
“I heard from the gentlemen's circle that my dearest sister kept on escaping dance offers from several gentlemen, saying that she would make lousy excuses to reject their dance offers tacitly—!” he ended with a huff. Your mother was frozen on the spot. She finally lets go of your linked arms, looking at you with disbelief.
"Mama, I can explain."
“Is it true, Y/N?” She suddenly asks with a firm tone.
“I…” You’re left speechless. The disappointing truth of your dance affairs is now out in the open, revealed to your mother. At any moment, you’re almost about to be eaten up by guilt at your attitude, especially in your debut.
While rejecting dance offers is rude, the fact that you have dismissed a number of offers from gentlemen of this banquet and have been talked about in their circle was more destructive to your family’s reputation, but most importantly, your reputation.
“Yes, I admit it,” you admitted, your eyes lowering away from your mother.
“You should have just told me, dear. There's no need for you to lie about it.”
“If I would admit it, then I’ll only place you on the burden that I’m carrying. I—” you choked on your own voice, and your eyes grew well with tears.
“Mother, I have been only looked at as an object by all the men here. I tried my best to engage in a conversation, but all that I get are harsh eyes and insincere words, and I believe it is because they only see me for what I have—what our family has! Mama,” the last word strays like a plead, and you continue with choked tears.
“I’m sorry. I need to have fresh air.” You turned your heels away and left the front doors of the palace, leaving your familial company stunned.
“Y/N!” Your brother almost followed along but was stopped by your mother, her hand placed on his arms, and she shook her head.
“Leave your sister alone for now. She needs time to adjust.”
“But Mama, she was being rude!” Haechan grimaced.
“You have to understand that your sister must be faced with expectations not only from others but herself. She must have gone through so much when I left her.” The marchioness released a heavy sigh, burdened with guilt for having left you unattended.
“Oh, what have I done to her?” she brought her head down in defeat, and Haechan rubbed her arms for comfort, unable to speak anything and partly guilty of his behavior towards you.
“Check on her after a few minutes.” your mother pleaded, but it took a few minutes before he could respond.
“Alright.”
THE TEARS IN YOUR EYES FELL STRONGLY DOWN YOUR CHEEKS AS YOU LEFT THE SCENE. Your vision starts to get blurry, and you pursed your lips in hopes that these tears may come to a halt, but you know it isn’t that easy.
Humiliating. Pathetic. Your family has finally discovered your true intentions. You knew that the only people to blame were the men you interacted with and not yourself, but in the end, you were the one who was more affected by their treatment of you. Their simplistic perception of you as nothing but the daughter of a marquess that could bring them to their own prime and financial risings to the society, and it drove you mad.
You were furious about your status, yet, at the same time, conflicted that maybe you were a bit too sensitive and could not stand your guard.
But was it wrong to be hurt? That even with these privileges, you were viewed as nothing but that as soon as you left home.
Debuting into society wasn’t all what you thought it was. It isn’t romantic nor the slightest bit magical. It is war only disguised as something pleasurable with performative beauty in one place.
You desperately tried to hold back your weeping, hiding under the garden’s fountain, not the slightest care that your dress would be dirtied with the grass you laid on, clutching your chest to ease the heaviness. You thought that the fresh air and the silence of the outside gardens could appease, though now it is only the opposite. The vulnerability that you hid as much as you could only cease to hide and break down.
What a waste. That you were just crying in this beautiful scenery.
The serene lush of green and the silence of the night, flickers of stars shining bright in the night sky, bearing witness to the presence of a distraught lady sitting alone under the water fountain.
You look up to the night sky and wipe the falling tears with your arms, another set of tears only falling as you wipe your cheeks.
But there was no time to waste, you knew. You sniffed in all your snot, removing your gloves and disregarding it as it was moist from all the wiping, and let yourself calm down, hoping that there were no further moments that you’d cry again.
Don’t try being a coward this time, you demanded to yourself, quickly huffing out a breath as you slapped your cheeks.
There was no other choice but to go back inside and dance to any man that your eyes would first lay on—no matter their perception of you.
“Let's do this.”
However, a disruption comes.
A shuffle of running feet is suddenly getting louder by any minute closer to you, and you snappily bring your head to the source, seeing a young man with jet black hair and clothes with a ruby red suit running towards you, occasionally looking behind them as if being chased.
Only one thing and one matter came to mind when you saw that scene: To run.
You wasted no time, got up from the fountain's edge, and you hit your head on the edge. You hissed at the impact, slowly standing up as you clutched your head.
“Please!” A young man's voice called out, and it was from the gentleman running towards you. “Please, hide me.” he huffed.
Before you could run away from him, the man finally reached you and immediately hid behind the bushes near the fountain.
What...what was that?
You stood there with nothing in mind and confused about the sudden role given to you.
After a few seconds, another gentleman ran towards you, and this time, you were prepared to run away.
“My lady, halt! I only have a question to ask you.” he stops a few feet away from you and bends, his arms holding onto his knees as he catches his breath.
You stop in your tracks, obliging, and take two steps back.
He fixed himself and stood up straight, a foot tall from you. A refined man with rounded slit eyes and a timid demeanor stands before you, the same age, you guessed, as the man earlier, who is currently hiding in the bushes. He plastered a kind smile, eyes disappearing as he took his barnacle from his suit pocket.
The man cleared his voice and bowed down to greet you, and you do the same.
“Good evening, my lady. I am the son of the Viscount Huang. Renjun Huang, from the House of Capri. Pardon that I rashly made a bad impression on you during our first meeting.”
You greeted back a good evening, introducing yourself and your house, bowing again, and stood up, raising your chin slightly as you carefully asked. “What of I could assist you, Sir Huang?”
“There seems to be someone I am looking for but had run away, rather—” the viscount chuckled to himself and reiterated, “My company has left me alone.”
“Have you perhaps seen a young man with this stature,” he gestured inches above his height. “Wearing a red suit and has black hair?” he finished, and you froze at your spot.
His descriptions of the gentleman he was looking for were precisely like the man you saw speeding towards you, asking you to hide him from someone, which you presume is this person who introduced himself as the son of the House of Capri, Renjun Huang.
You thought deeply, trying to recall any memory from your social etiquette classes that made you memorize and recognize the names and history of each noble family in the kingdom before debuting, as it was essential to have one before entering society.
Viscount Huang from the House of Capri. Weren’t they a family of butlers who have served the imperial family from generation to generation?
"Hmm, a gentleman with that stature has a red suit and black hair?" he nodded at your question, and you wandered off, looking around as you faked an attempt to deeply think about his inquiry when you were actually in a dilemma on whose side you should pick.
Obviously, you had no relations with both gentlemen, and only a huge silence engulfed you as your own conscience measured the rightful decision in this situation.
You gulped and looked back at the man before you and immediately looked away as you saw the desperation and that hint of insanity in his eyes, vividly seeing those dark circles beneath them.
To which gentleman do you trust and help out?
“…I think,” you crossed your arms, rubbing your arms with your hands to appease you as you thought deeply of your choice. “I think I saw that man went that way.” you nervously pointed to your left where the gates leading to another part of the castle are.
The viscount mumbled to himself that he thought right and bowed his head to you. “Thank you, Miss Y/N. Have a good evening.” Sir Huang paused for a moment and smiled gently, adding. “I also hope you are feeling well, my lady.” and he ran in the direction you pointed.
And you were grateful for the sentiment that he shared with you; as short as it was, you felt that he was worried about you. Your eyes must be so swollen from the crying that you took no care to care about your appearance to anybody else. Now you felt guilty for deceiving him.
You waited until his figure disappeared from sight as he entered the castle, and you heaved out a big exhale you had unconsciously held earlier.
You should never be left unchaperoned in another social gathering, you decided.
Though, you can only wonder. Why was the son of a viscount, the son of the current imperial butler, so hung up on this person behind the bushes to the point of chasing him?
Oh, gosh.
You might have chosen a criminal.
A threat to the royal family, perhaps?
Speaking of the devil, the bush near the fountain rustled, and you turned slowly to the bushes, quickly seeking any sort of weapon you could find, and you saw a twig. You picked it up, bent it a little, swung it around to test its firmness, and finally decided that it was good for defense as it was durable.
It is better to have one or nothing, you thought.
You suspiciously walked near it, which is the most reckless thing to do right now, but the twig you held right now gave you that foolish, courageous act. That it could give you full defense against a possible criminal.
Then comes out the man from earlier, his broad back and his clean-cut hair in your view, startling you as your shoulders jump, causing you to clutch your chest and pacify your pounding heart.
“Thank heavens.” a deep voice unveils out of the mysterious man, and he sweeps the dirt and leaves on him, soon turning to you with a troubled face.
You swore you could feel your jaw getting loose as you froze in awe of the man before you.
Chiseled face made of strong facial bones, nose perfectly angled to a degree, lush pink lips of a distinguishable cupid's bow above it, and those long set of lashes, low as it veils his dark eyes, deep yet shining underneath the yellow dim lights of the nearby lamp post around us; it's almost like the porcelain statues and paintings of the imperial ancestors from the palace has come to life—the most significant artists and poets combined to forge imagery of a rightful muse to every medium and ink that praises a divine being.
And that mole, placed under his eyes.
His eyes stare back at you, only delving you to say.
“Wow.”
“Pardon?” The man raises his brow, his lips upturned to amusement.
Your cheeks get warm, and you immediately shake your hands in the air, correcting yourself. “I mean, wow—no, I mean,” you paused and thought deeply to yourself as you looked back at him with seriousness. “I'm afraid there are no present expressions to describe it.”
The man blinked, dumbfounded, and his cheekbones started to define, soon bursting into a fit of laughter at your reaction, holding his stomach as he bent down to laugh more.
The urge to be eaten by the ground was more tempting than ever in your point of existence. You lightly smacked your lips with your hand to punish yourself for your intrusive thoughts winning before you just by the presence of this captivating being.
He finished as he calmed down, ending it with a smile as he stood tall.
“Thank you. I've never been complimented with that expression before, at least not in a first meeting—wow.” The man snickered to himself, his eyes raised to the shape of a crescent moon, and you almost melted to your knees.
The imperial court should consider banning that charming smile; you finally kept the thought to yourself.
“I am deeply grateful for your kindness, miss. I would have understood if you had chosen Sir Huang instead of me since I am, after all, still a stranger to you.” he bowed to the highest degree, his upper body lowered straight as the ground, and you nervously assumed the same greeting, stunned with this deep gratitude.
You realize that this man is still a potential criminal, and you discreetly hide your weapon (a twig) behind you.
“Why were you chased by the viscount, my lord?” you backed off a few steps from the mysterious man as you stood before he did.
“Well, if I were speaking truthfully,” he whirred lowly, trying to find the right words to reason his circumstance. “I would have been forced to enter the ballroom to which I have been warily hiding from my chaperone—I don't want to go through this dancing propaganda, you see.”
“Oh,” you relaxed a little, the grip on your weapon (still a twig) becoming less firm. “I guess I understand.” you engaged.
“You do?”
“Do what?” you looked up at him cautiously, and he walked close to you.
“You also dislike this conviction behind the dancing and the desperation for marriage.” he reiterated, adamant sparkles of enthusiasm in his eyes, still not taking a hint of your obvious nervousness.
“I don't think we're meant to talk so freely about that.” you attempted to retreat from the topic, or moreover, from him, and the sparks were lost as he lowered his eyes and he finally stopped.
“Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.” The gentleman begged pardon, sincerity clear in his apology, and you notice it, bringing you to look at him and shaking your head.
“No! It's just that...” you hesitated. “I believe my opinions and criticisms of society, as a lady, would be frowned upon. That's why I responded that way.”
The young man looks at you and eases, assured that you are not opposed nor baffled by the conversation's topic.
“Well,” he looked around. “We are the only people present here, aren't we? You're free to tell me things without feeling drawn back, and I assure you that I intently outcast myself from society.”
“You have such grand privileges, my lord. I feel envious of that freedom.” you professed, smiling at him green-eyed, and he shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms as he looked far and sighed, sitting on the edge of the water fountain.
“It's not always thrilling. My siblings are wary of me because my father favors me more than they do. My father also insisted that I marry and take his stead immediately. With my escapades, I am never to be left alone again when I leave my chambers,” he shared.
He noticed the silence afterward and soon came to regret his actions again.
“I apologize. I may have overshared—”
“I also have a conflicting problem as you do, but more personal.” you also opened up, also sitting on the water fountain's edge, still keeping a good fair distance from him. “I am the youngest and the last of my family to come of age, and I feel like I am not suitable to be here. This dancing and its etiquettes.” you stopped.
He remains silent, eyes now focused on you and every meaning that is present on your face as you're looking away, noticing the tears welling in your eyes.
“If you know my family very well, then you could probably guess that I am very privileged and that everybody wants to get close to me.” you chuckled to yourself, looking down and bringing your hands in front of you, now fidgeting on the twig. “It's funny how I hate that kind of attention because that means I can easily make friends, but it's not genuine.”
The cold air breeze caved between you, and there remained silence. The man keenly waits for another word from you, but there is a look of hesitance present on yours, and before he opens his mouth to talk, you continue.
“I hate it. Everything there reminds me that I could be easily eaten up if I'm not careful, and I’m scared to take any dance offers that could possibly have a hidden motive.” you wept yet again, the warm tears now falling on your cold hands, and you wiped it away.
You say nothing. In your peripheral, you notice a white thing hanging in the air, and you look at it, seeing an extended arm from the stranger who is reassuringly smiling, handing you a handkerchief.
“Here.” the man said, and you hesitated, staring at the handkerchief.
“There's nothing on the handkerchief. I swear on my family's name. It's yours to take.” he reassured, and you felt found out from your cautiousness.
“Thank you.” you mumbled under your breath and accepted the handkerchief, wiping every tear and snot on your face.
You have never thought to receive such understanding from a stranger this evening or be listened to without any judgment and malice. This interaction is what you hoped to receive from all of the conversations of the past gentleman—to be simply heard.
The man secretly grins to himself, finding the scene endearing and relaxed as you were freely talking to him.
“...If it assures you, I experience the same thing as you do ever since I was aware of it.” he sympathized with you, and you looked up at him, finding him smiling though opposite from his eyes, pained as he looked at the sky.
“People looked at me and treated me kindly, but they secretly plot things behind me just to use me, using their closeness to me to satisfy their selfish desires or to raise their rankings. My parents were wed out of convenience just to make an heir, and ever since then, I have lived my life carefully—I rarely find people who I could lean on and depend on.”
“That's why I don't bother myself attending the dances or any party, and I just stay outside of it when I'm forced to attend one. I realized if I even find this occasion tempting to join, then I'll only add more unwanted attention to my life.” he ended, and there came again the silence, but now you're sharing eye contact.
It is comforting this silence you shared this time, pleasant and easy to bear, and you can't help but break in a smile, a stray tear coming down your cheek, and he chuckled, rubbing his nape timidly at this progression.
The mysterious man sitting far away from you had more depth now that you knew behind the charming and gleaming factors that there was vulnerability and the capability for sympathy.
Would it be too much to ask for more of him?
“Would you care to share some refreshments with me?” you confidently sat a bit closer.
“I—”
“Your Highness!” Before he could answer, a distant voice shouted, and both of you looked at the familiar figure, Sir Huang, running towards you.
“What did he say?” your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Sir Huang getting closer.
“Your High—”
“Not important.” he interrupted, now standing near you as he held out his hand. “I'm sorry, but we must run, my lady. Please take my hand.” you can't help but accept it, and the both of you dash away in the direction of the ballroom's entrance. You run behind him, completely confused by your necessary involvement with this escapade and threatened that you are also now being chased.
“What is happening, my lord!” You shouted at him.
“I know a secret passage to the ballroom. Just follow me.” he looked back at you and quickly glanced at the growing tired viscount running after us.
The evening wind was cold as it slapped across your body and created a mess out of your hair, your breathing slowly reminding you that you are not the athletic person to run away with a chasing situation and definitely not with the evening gown and shoes you are wearing. You might need to lie down on the cold floor after this inevitably.
On the other hand, the lord, who is still firmly holding your hand, drags you both to hide any block and bushes, and after puzzling the frantic Sir Huang, the both of you proceed to run, him noticeably slowing his pace to match yours from time to time.
You were starting to lose your breath, and the both of you were finally on the grounds of the outside gates of the ballroom.
“It's truly incredible how you're still not catching your breath, my lord, but may I remind you,” you inhaled in more air and wiped the sweat off your forehead while he was tensely looking for whatever he hoped to find. “I am simply not built for running. I don't even like running at all!”
He quietly shushed you, and you pursed your lips to refrain complaints from coming out of your mouth, and you noticed that he still hadn't let go of your hand.
You flushed from the continual contact, and he dragged you away from the gate, leading you to the right side of the building, where a door meant for the servants and the noticeable clinks of pans from the inside. He doesn't hesitate to open it and bring you inside quickly, walking past the servants who are startled by the sudden presence of nobles in the dirty kitchen.
“Where are we going?” Your knees still feel weak from running, and outside of the kitchen, there is a stairway that leads upstairs, to which each noble was not permitted to enter at all costs as the ballroom grounds and the gardens were the only places that one was to enter.
“We're not permitted to enter this place, my lord!” Your hand dragged him down as he stepped on one step of the staircase, and he looked at you with a glint of hurry in his eyes.
‘Would you rather be seen with me by the viscount or continue running away with me?” he probed, lowering his chin to look down at you at the end of the stairway.
“Look,” you paused to make a statement. “I don't know why I am running with you when this is not part of my concern. You can't possibly think that I would run away with someone I just met!” you exclaimed, wide-eyed as you looked at the unnamed lord, finding his suggestions reckless.
The man was stunned by your reaction, visibly hurt by you berating the connection you made after all of those conversations, and you can see it, the guilt of your outburst at him gnawing at you.
“I seem to have chosen the wrong words. My butler—” he sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “The son of the viscount rather has seen us together, and you would be the prime evidence and witness of my last presence in this event, which he would never let go of, my lady. So choose. Would you rather be with me and slowly part our ways or be seen with me by the viscount and hear rumors of us being alone and unchaperoned?” the man paused, looking intently at you as he waited for your response. You, who had nothing to say and were ashamed of your earlier response, just nodded and agreed.
“Alright.” The both of you then walked up the staircase, his grip on your hand still unceasing, and you're slowly becoming bothered by it.
“You can let go of my hand already, sir.” you said.
“Sorry.” he quickly let go as the two of you reached the second floor.
The surrounding frames of eerily familiar faces of royals on the walls urge you to avoid any eye contact with them, their faces now barely comfortable to stare and adore at, and the clanking of both of the soles of your shoes on the wooden platform floors, loud, awkward, filling up the silence that the both of you shared only heightens the apparent climactic end of this camaraderie you shared at the garden—your blunt take on how your meeting was simply empty.
You can't help but feel hurt that you haven't considered the sentimental and unexpected companionship with a man you helped for unknown reasons was the best part of this nightmarish marital circle.
The man was clearly hurt by your words earlier and he still inevitably did not leave you alone to be spotted unchaperoned alone with a man. He helped you and listened to you without you asking of him. Your response earlier was ungrateful, responding that you were bothered by it.
You bit your lips, clasping your hands in front of you as you walked behind him.
“My lord?” you called him, and he answered with a gentle hum, continuing to walk.
“I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to dismiss our meeting we had at the gardens.”
He stopped and looked back as he smiled reassuringly.
“There's no need for you to apologize, miss. I have inconvenienced you after all. Our meeting earlier was certainly unexpected and troubling for you, so I understand.” he turned back and continued to walk.
After a few walks, the muffled music from the ballroom slowly got louder. The ballroom was near your vicinity, and you tried to strike up a conversation.
“Are you still not interested in dancing, my lord?”
“Not really. I'm still not interested in being on the dance floor,” he responded shortly, and you take it as a sign not to continue, but he added after a second.
“After the past two seasons, my father is determined to marry me to any woman he'd find me dancing with,” he added, and you hummed thoughtfully.
“So this would be your third season in the marriage circle?” you asked him, and he nodded.
“Indeed.”
His answer made you think deeply, slowly coming up with crafted advice in your head. “Huh,” you responded as you came to a thought, and he looked back at you, puzzled.
“What do you mean by huh?"
“I think you’re missing the point here, my lord.” you slowly caught up to his pace. “If I were you, I'd be setting up a forged relationship with another noble lady just to keep off those kinds of intrusive parents, and then we'd keep the contract for a few years at the least,” you suggested with not much thought.
“Hmm, wait. But it would also not last that much—”
“...I see.” the man replied.
To your dismay, the person chasing you might have finally found out your presence, a set of running feet suddenly getting nearer, and your companion panicked, quickly moving both of you toward a nearby narrow corner, enough for both people to hide.
“Hide in that corner quickly.” He placed you in the corner and helped to hide you, but he didn't bother to hide with you.
“My lord, you should also hide.” you caught his arm and nudged him to where you were hiding too.
“My lady.” he suddenly said, a hint of mischief in his voice.
“Yes?” you replied carefully.
“May I ask for your hand for the next song?”
“What?” you almost shouted out, and he just grinned.
“Your advice was brilliant.” he complimented, and you furrowed your eyebrows.
“I'm saying I would like to make an alliance with you. I'll ask for your hand, and you'll be the center of attention by tonight's party.”
“But wouldn't that risk me being your prospect partner?”
“Unless you'd be proposed to by a ton of suitors by the next morning, there'll be no chance of me winning, and there would be a delay in their enforcement of me to get married. Wouldn't it also be romantic to be asked by many men after dancing with a fine bachelor like me?” he joked by the end, and you scowled in reaction.
“I am not so certain with your plan, my lord. You, who I realized I am not aware of your name yet, and the noble family you belong to wouldn't possibly cause that much ruckus. Unless you are one of the royal princes, then that would make a lot of difference.” he evidently feels startled by your suggestion, and he shakes his head in denial.
“What? No—! Pfft. Why would you assume so?” he waved his hands in the air and continued. “But still, I'll make sure that I will help you feel less burdened with your situation. It's a win-win situation for both of us. At least for a while, when you don't pick me.”
“And how are you so sure I wouldn't pick you?” you answered quite quickly, and the young lord was startled, and so were you by your boldness.
The two of you spend a few seconds just staring at each other, and he breaks eye contact, looking away as he clears his voice.
“My lord, please,” Sir Huang coughed. “Please show yourself! I can't do this any longer!” he complained.
“What's your answer, my lady?” the man before you finally asked, holding out his hand, and you paused for a while, still a bit embarrassed.
Your act of boldness was unexpected of you. That plan you proposed was just a way to converse with him, but it made you look interested in your newfound companion. You just hoped that it wouldn't make both of you awkward, but that doesn't seem to be the case, as he was still willing to do it with you.
This alliance would be all in your favor. You'll finally show your mother that you have enjoyed tonight's party and won't place any more worry on her, but why would he assume you would want more men by the next morning? You don't want any flock of men by the next morning. You didn't like that he said that.
“I'm in.” you agreed and accepted his hand to shake. “This better work, sir?”
There's nothing wrong with accepting it either way, is it?
“Jeno.” He joined your hands and firmly made a handshake. “Call me Lord Jeno, my lady.”
Sir Huang still complains about his missing companion, Lord Jeno. His sneaking footsteps become louder, and Sir Jeno hid you properly for once.
“I'll show myself to the viscount, and you wait for a while until we leave. I'll see you downstairs.”
Then he left.
THIS ALLIANCE. THIS PLAN. You could immediately feel that you might soon regret agreeing to that ridiculous suggestion you made with that man. It was rebellious and certainly not fitting for someone who just entered the society. The man you agreed with has been in the season for three years, and you're barely keeping up with this hectic day a noble lady could have for just coming of age.
You waited a while after you heard no mumbling noises in the hallway and slowly got up, holding on to the wall as your knees weakened from all the running and the brief relaxation your legs had to take. You grunted as you fixed and swept your skirt clean, fixed your hair in place to a nearby mirror, peeked a little from the corners to investigate your surroundings, and left as you determined the place clear.
The music from the ballroom comes to a halt, the quartet resting for another set of music for tonight, and you start to get nervous as you encounter the stairway leading down to the ballroom.
You grumbled to yourself as you descended the stairs, questioning your actions and wondering about the identity of the mysterious man who finally introduced himself as Lord Jeno.
Everything about him exuded aristocracy, so you had no doubt that he was a noble and definitely wasn’t a criminal. But what was the deal of the son of a viscount chasing him like hunting prey? The son of the viscount whose family are butlers of the imperial family?
You almost scratched your head in this situation you've put yourself in. While you were grateful for the unexpected companionship you made with a handsome gentleman tonight, you had just dragged yourself into another complex obstacle you have never faced. More worse than arguing with your mother about your lying.
Who was Lord Jeno?
The ballroom doors swung open, and the gleaming yellow lights of the ballroom soon entered your vision. You stepped down to the final step of the staircase, near the refreshments where the people took their rest after a dance—and you attracted too much attention.
They must’ve heard your issue with accepting a number of dance offers from the noblemen, and you were gone by the following few songs when you conversed with the family you brought tonight.
People in society are quick to judge anyone who acts differently from the must-followed social etiquette you discovered. They're quick to spread words, to create a transparent wall they could ridicule anyone who is not doing the norms.
You couldn't bear but notice and catch all of the glances, and the whispered conversations shamelessly out loud in front of you, and your eyes desperately searched the room, looking for familiarity, looking for a place you could very much hide.
“Y/N!” you snapped and looked in the direction of the voice to see your brother walking towards you grumpily.
“I thought that you were outside, and I came out looking for you only to find you nowhere! Where have you been!” Haechan nagged, placing his hands on his hips as he exasperated an annoyed groan.
You looked down in defeat, not having the energy to fight back like what you usually do with him, not in this place. You could only give them another thing to talk about.
“I'm sorry I made you worried.” Haechan's gaze towards you softened, with the hands on his hips soon placed in his pockets.
Seeing you in a state where your usual reaction was to fight back was unusual for Haechan, and instead of anger and frustration, his emotions subsided into pure concern for you.
“Hey, I'm very sorry earlier. I shouldn't have told mother about your situation. It wasn't my right to do so.” Your brother apologized, and you looked up at him to see him with sympathizing eyes. You smiled knowingly, slowly turning into chuckles.
“You don't look good acting kind.” you teased, and he gently nudged you in response, shrugging off your comment.
“Shut up.” he irked and crossed his arms as he smiled by the end after the two of you shared a laugh.
“Say, brother," you said.
“Yes?” he replied.
“If a person was ever chased by a son of a butler, a known imperial butler to be exact, what does that mean for the person chased?” you asked hesitatingly.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.” your immediate reply only brings him to suspicion by your sudden behavior.
“Y/N,” he started. “What did you do this time?”
You avoid eye contact with him as you start to fidget, your heart beating anxiously as you count as the seconds that pass by, observing how the musicians slowly approach their instruments and flip their music sheets on a standee.
“A man was chased by the son of Viscount Huang.” you gulped, and Haechan remained silent, pausing to come up with an appropriate question as he observed your frozen figure.
“And?” he asked.
“I made an alliance with said man.”
“Y/N,” he said with gritted teeth as he sighed in defeat. “What have you done!”
“I know, and I have my suspicions too! Alright! But I swear the person has only given me infinite kindness from the beginning…If you exclude the part that I helped in hiding him from the son of the royal butler.”
“Sweet heavens.” he places his palm on his forehead, shaking his head in distress.
“All we agreed was to have one dance, and that's it! I promise there's nothing more than what we have agreed. But listen, this man,” you stopped, looking around you, and got nearer to him as you whispered. “We might be talking about the kingdom’s prince here.” you reasoned with him, and he thought about it, looking at you still for you to continue.
“That’s ridiculous,” he commented. “There’s no way a prince would be asking you out.”
You gasped and hit him on his arm. “You know insulting me is also insulting our parents and yourself too.”
“I had my doubts.” Haechan joked, and you hit him again, earning from him a ‘hey!’.
“You have to take this seriously. This man has been acting suspiciously from the start. Look. He was chased by what I presume, his butler. I heard quite faintly a ‘Your Highness!’ when we were chased down by his butler, and he…” You looked at him, dead in the eyes. “Was a terrible liar. He had quite a violent reaction when I suspected him to be one of the princes.”
“You know, the youngest prince was supposed to debut on my season, but he hasn’t shown up ever since. No one knows his face or name.” Haechan whispered back at you.
“And when did you enter high society again?”
“This is my third, so the past two seasons ago.”
“Oh, dear,” you said as you stared at the ground from your realization. “Where is mother—”
“Lady Y/N.” An ardent voice called you from behind, and you looked behind you, and you saw your expected person.
“Lord Jeno?” you uttered his name, and upon release, the weight of the atmosphere became heavier with his simple presence alone.
And everyone notices. The notable stranger, who was never seen through the night until now, approached the debutante rumored upon and best known to reject several dance offers curtly.
“Y/N?” Haechan asked, staring at Lord Jeno.
Jeno notices your brother and bows, greeting him.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Good evening…” Haechan wandered off, and you were wearing the same expression as he did. Bewildered. Intimidated. Awestrucked.
Shushed conversations and murmuring circles surround the both of you, but despite this, the lord in front of you is composed, poised straight, a firm hand holding out to ask for yours and the other behind him—too firm and frozen you notice. His hand shakes, and so do his eyes, looking at yours as he awkwardly smiles.
“Will you have this dance with me, Lady Y/N?” Lord Jeno asked hesitantly, and you gulped, offering out your hand to touch his, barely placed on his palms as you felt that if you touched his hands again, you’d taint him.
"Yes…my lord," you lately answered the last, not knowing how to address him. He breathed out a sigh of relief, too nervous as if there was a never-agreed-upon alliance behind this.
Shouldn’t you be the nervous one here?
Jeno leads you to the dance floor, and he is still stiff. The pressure of the many eyes is troubling him, especially since, out of his three seasons, he is officially marking an entrance into high society.
Everything he avoided was present in this banquet. Crowds and circles of people and their eyes—free to perceive him as a subject of talk.
He can barely breathe in air, overwhelmed by consciousness by the piercing stares now placed upon him, unaware of you calling out to him, and you tugged him down only to startle him, finally looking at you with anxious eyes.
You gestured for him to bend down, and he followed, whispering in his ears as if he were down at your height. “Are you not feeling well, my lord?”
The ticklish air on his ears from yours gives a ginger warmth to his ears, seconds late to answer you with a simple nod and smile, and you squeeze your clasped hands with him, giving him a feat of courage with your eyes. His heart flutters at this small gesture, the nearness of you making him feel warm but when he looks into your eyes, he notices a glint of something more to it.
Your eyes only show curiosity—more like suspicion.
“My lady, is there something you want to say to me?” Jeno asked, and the glint vanished as you shook your head.
“No. It’s nothing.” But nothing always had something.
You might already have guessed it, but you’re just keeping it to yourself.
The both of you finally take the dance floor. Jeno holds your hand and places the other one on your hips, and you place your free hand on his arm nervously. The quarter starts with the bass, plucking it, and the violin strung after, a cheery tune playing into the dance floor, positioning you both in a waltz.
There is a noticeable space that is around the both of you and Jeno notices it, giving you a sign about it.
“We're like a deadly disease on this dance floor.” Jeno joked, and you looked around you and chuckled along, too occupied by your reoccurring thought.
You reflected on the times when you interacted with him and thought deeply about the things you did ungraciously in front of him.
Well, you complained to him. Talked back at him. Held his hand. You also wiped your snot and tears on his handkerchief—a handkerchief that could possibly cost more than what a normal handkerchief is. After all, he is the prince.
Could be the prince, for now.
“Lady Y/N? What’s the problem? You’ve been staring at the air for quite a moment now. Is there any way I could help?” Jeno asked, concerned.
You don’t respond for a few seconds. “Lord Jeno.”
“Yes, my lady?” he replied lowly. Your mind only drives chaos at his tender reply.
“Are you really not one of the princes?” you ended, and his face tensed at your question.
“If I said yes…” he paused, his face softened, eyebrows brought together as he looked back at you hesitantly. “Will you avoid me too?”
Your heart dropped. Hearing him say ‘too’, only made you realize about his past situations that pained him and made you think about yourself. The memories of your interaction with him came crashing into you as you realized that you were acting and thinking the same as what he told you about the people who interacted with him. And he has probably felt lonely his whole life with this.
But with you, he felt seen and understood—just like what you felt about him too.
“No.” you immediately answered this time. “I won’t, my lord.”
Jeno doesn’t respond, only looking at you bewildered, and he smiles cheek to cheek, reassured by your sincerity.
The next dance segment pulled you near him as the strings modulated and came to a halt. He puts his face close to you slowly, moving his face on the side of your face as he whispers in your ears, the proximity of the both of you close—too close.
“That’s a relief.” you touch your ear as he pulls his face away. “I’m so glad it’s you that I met.” he said, still brimming with joy, unaware of the effect he had on you with that action.
The warmth of Jeno’s whispers remains for a while, and it’s ticklish, and for a moment, you forget the crowd watching you both, unaware of the stir that caused that simple action that took you off course too. The words he has spoken echoed through you, filling you with confusion and butterflies.
The music swells in, and Jeno gracefully leads you across the dance floor; the room is out of focus, other dancers and onlookers fading in the background as you only look at the man you’re dancing with—moving in perfect harmony.
There remains an unbroken eye contact, silence, and the strings from the instruments swarming between the both of you in glee rendition. Looking directly at a prince, you should be nervous and uncomfortable, but none of that is present in your mind. What you saw at the moment wasn’t the prince.
It was Jeno. The mysterious man that you helped and approached recklessly. The man who listened to your story with no prejudice. The man who offered his hand out to you when you were stuck in your own thoughts.
The friend you made out of this treacherous night.
As you continued to dance, you tried your best to gather yourself. You might not have heard him say yes to your question yet, but you can only wonder what it means for your future—what exactly would happen after this alliance was done and gone?
“Lord Jeno,” you said softly, breaking the silence.
“Or should I say, Prince Jeno?” you asked carefully, and he chuckled, nodding in agreement.
“Yes, Lady Y/N?”
“It feels weird addressing you like this. It’s like I’m speaking casually, but I’m actually formally treating you.” you commented, and he laughed at this.
“You’re the only one who I hear calling me in that way. Even if you’re already properly addressing me,” he replied. “I much more prefer it.”
He’s doing that again. Commenting so easily about things that make you feel weak on your knees.
How can he be so oblivious about it?
“What were you going to tell me?” he asked, bringing you back to your question.
“I was about to ask about our alliance.” you finished, and he looked at you anticipatingly.
“Yes?”
“What would happen after this?” and the question comes out.
You already knew the answer to this since you had already talked about it with him. The advantage you’d have after it is his succession in making his own parents, the king, and queen, less nosy on him and going in your own peaceful ways. Though, you want to hear a different answer from him this time.
Despite everything already clear as day, you want to know what runs in his mind.
Where would this lead to?
Jeno thinks about it too.
Too hardly.
“How would you want things to happen?”
The question remains in the air and the music becomes less louder in your ears.
“I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want to wake up the next morning and be filled with other men asking for my hand.” you answered.
Oh.
Jeno remembered he said that. He thought about the moment he said that and soon came to regret when he suggested that as a situation that was sure to happen and not as a joke, not when you told him what you did at that moment.
“You?” you asked, almost like a plead, yearning to hear something different than what you were negatively thinking he would answer right now.
“Me too.”
His words remained ceaseless as they left right through him, the simple words underscored by the weight they carried. The dance continues, and your mind is racing, your heart thumping loudly as if to break through your chest.
Was it really possible that Jeno, the man you stumbled upon in such a bizarre way, felt the same wave of uncertainty about the future ahead of you as you did?
You studied his face as you slowly moved across the dance floor as the final segment came near. His expression remained calm and, when you hardly look, vulnerable.
As the music began to slow down, signaling the end of the dance, Jeno’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he too, was reluctant for this moment to end. The quartet played the final notes, and you both came to a gentle stop, facing each other; the contact pulled away for the final bow. Applause erupted around you, but it felt distant.
After bowing, the both of you hesitantly leave the dance floor but this time, Jeno wasn’t the slightest nervous about the eyes that still remained on the two of you. Rather, he felt more clear about his thoughts and what he wanted more than what he desired in his life.
“Lady Y/N.” Jeno began, his voice low and earnest. “I do not wish to make you feel more uncertain for what is ahead of us after this alliance we made.”
Your heart skips a beat. “I do not understand, my lord.”
“If the morning comes tomorrow and you are filled with letters that ask for your presence, do not read anything that doesn’t have the mark of my family’s crest. The answer to your question you asked me when I told you about the alliance,” he paused as he smiled softly. “I hope that you are certain to choose me, my lady, as I am certain to pursue you in the future and the moment that we step out of this dance floor.”
The sincerity that spoke through his eyes was unmistakable, and you felt relieved and exhilarated. Your anxieties all vanish away in the face of his answers.
“Looks like I would only be expecting one person’s letter tomorrow.” you smiled at him and chuckled, looking at the ground as you felt timid before him.
The quartet plays another yet song, and the both of you are startled by the sudden start of instruments playing, making you look at each other and burst into laughter.
Jeno holds out his hand at you, and you tilt your head in confusion.
“What is it, Your Highness?” he snickered at the way you addressed him, the lining of his eyes prominent into a crescent shape.
“The imperial court should consider banning that smile. You’re too captivating.” This time, you let your intrusive thoughts reign, and you and Jeno laugh at your absurdity.
“Lady Y/N?” he asked, still holding out his hand and you hummed in response.
“May I have this dance?”
“Yes,” you accepted his hand. “Yes, Your Highness.”
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Every piece of writing on this masterlist is set in the NCT!Frat-verse Enjoy!
Members, besides Johnny and Jaehyun, are written for upon request
updated November 17, 2025
-
random frat!gf lore!
Taeyong- reader is referred to as Bug
[5:09 pm]- Taeyong’s calm afternoon is interrupted when a stray dog goes running into the backyard and you do too
[6:49 am]- Taeyong is a guy who enjoys the privacy of your relationship, so much so that his bros don't even think you guys are intimate in any way
Johnny- reader is referred to as Honey/Bee/Honeybee- blurbs
Johnny and Bee x Jaehyun and Sweets double date!
Yuta- reader is referred to as baby girl
[1:46 pm]- the bros think Yuta’s girlfriend isn’t real until you actually show up and are even cooler than Yuta described
[9:36 am]- Yuta has the perfect opportunity to be the most perfect boyfriend while you stay with him during your break
Doyoung- reader is referred to as Sunshine- blurbs
[8:03 am]- Doyong’s frat brothers are scared to see his reaction to your birthday decorating for him, what they don’t know is that Doyoung is a different person around you
Jaehyun- reader is referred to mostly as Sweets-blurbs
Johnny and Bee x Jaehyun and Sweets double date!
Jungwoo- reader is referred to as Princess
[6:05 pm]- Jungwoo has managed to hide the fact that he’s dating you, a badass Judo fighter, from his frat brothers
[12:28 pm]- Jungwoo tends to you, his precious Judo fighting girlfriend, after a dirty fight
Mark- reader will be referred to as Lover
[9:43 pm]- you boyfriend, Mark, doesn't recognize you while drunk
[7:58 pm]- it’s your first time meeting your boyfriend, fratboy!Mark’s, frat brothers so why is he more nervous than you?
Jeno- blurbs
[11:08 pm]- Jeno has somehow managed to hide the fact that he's been dating you, his girlfriend since he was 12, from his frat brothers
Haechan- reader is referred to as Bear/Gomi- blurbs
[10:39 pm]- Best Friend!Haechan thinks you look so hot, when did that happen?
[11:57 am]- you didn’t know you and your best friend with benefits, Haechan, were dating! Why?! Well, he never asked you!
[12:14 pm]- you boyfriend, Haechan, is really close to his girl best friend and no! you’re not jealous of her– you’re jealous of him!
Jaemin- reader is referred to as Pretty
[1:47 pm]- Jaemin has a big crush on you, his coworker, good thing the kids he works with are great wingmen
spidey! lee mark x reader ⋆˚࿔ 1.5k ⋆˚࿔ fluff!!!! superheroesque (fantasy?) ⋆˚࿔ warnings: bruises/cuts, language, i think thats it?
mark has never not been obvious. the man has no idea how to lie. you're surprised the entirety of queens doesn't know who he is by now, but you guess people are more stupid than you think.
you’ve known about your boyfriend's identity since he accidentally left his mask in the dryer once but even before that you had your suspicions. he had bruises and cuts show up everywhere and his poker face was trash.
it wasn't hard.
you've been throwing him hints here and there, to let him know that you know his identity. like washing his suit sometimes when he throws it into the laundry basket and forgets to wash it. or giving ‘spiderman’ the lunch he forgot if you met him on the way to your shift. you've even gone as far as calling him babe once, while he was in the suit.
another problem? mark lee is oblivious as hell.
you've known his identity for months, and he still has no idea that you know. at this point, you're not even trying to hide the fact that you know anymore. you're acting exactly as if you knew his identity except you haven't actually said it out loud yet.
does he really think you're blind and can't see the scuff marks on your window sill? or the fact that his suit once dye-d all your white tees pink, because he accidentally threw it in with the whites in a hurry? (you decided to start doing his laundry after that disaster.)
you have a running bet going on with hyuck, mark’s best friend to see just how long mark will take to realise you know. so far, according to mark, the only person who knows his identity other than himself is hyuck. he's wrong there. you're not the only person who's put two and two together.
mark’s older brother johnny figured it out pretty quick along with his friend jaehyun, who's known mark since he was basically born. jaemin knows for sure but chenle, renjun and jeno have suspicions. in fact, the only person who has no idea is jisung. poor innocent boy believes every bad lie mark feeds him. you guys have another bet going on as well, how long until jisung figures out mark is spiderman? johnny’s betting on at least another three years.
you were walking home, hands full of groceries after a long day as you made your way upstairs. the boys were supposed to be joining you for a movie night and your fridge was basically collecting dust at this point. you and mark had been ordering out so much that you forgot you had a fridge to fill.
you're arms are so full with the bags that you can barely see two feet in front of you. you miss a step on the concrete and nearly tumble face front into a bush. you know its a lost cause, so you just close your eyes and brace for the impact.. which never happens as a hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back upright. you turn around to look at your saviour just to come face to face with your boyfriend. or well, face to mask.
“yo, you okay there?” he asks, voice sounding concerned and so very mark.
“yeah,” you nod, checking your bags once to see if you dropped anything. “thanks, babe.”
“no problem, dude,” mark replies, stepping back once he sees you're stable. “just be careful next time, man.”
you smile at him. “got it.”
you wave as he starts to swing away yelling, “don't be late! renjun’s coming early today.”
you spot him shoot you a small thumbs up as he goes to help whoever needs it now.
you struggle up the stairs, teeth holding onto the loaf of bread for dear life as you open the door to your and mark’s shared apartment.
you’ve just finished putting away the groceries when you hear the telltale sound of mark landing in your and mark’s room as he climbs in through the window again.
“hey babe?” you call out to him.
“yeah?” his voice sounds muffled. he probably hasn't taken off the mask yet.
“can you come help me make renjun’s weird, bougie ass, lemon drink thing? he said he's heading here straight from his shift so you know he's going to be grumpy as fuck if i don't have it ready when he comes.”
there's a few thuds coming from the room and you hear a quiet curse so you know mark must have dropped something or stubbed his toe. he's still cursing when he opens the door and makes his way to you.
“hey babe,” you kiss his cheek, before turning back to the wings you were attempting to marinade. “good patrol?”
“not too bad,” he winces, a small cut right above the area you kiss his cheek.
“there's gauze in the drawer and some hydrogen peroxide wipes.” you don't look up from your food. “after you're done with that, can you make renjun’s drink please? he's going to curse me out for making him ‘dollar store lemonade’ again.”
“got it,” mark says, rummaging through the drawer for the stuff.
it doesn't hit him until he's slicing the lemons for renjun's drink. he didn't tell you he had anything today.
come to think of it, he's also sure you told him to make it on time today for the movie night, while he was in his suit.
he sits there, spacing out for a good twenty minutes before you look up and ask, “need any help with that, baby?”
he unfreezes, going back to slicing the lemon. “i didn't tell you i had a shift today?”
“didn't you?” you hum as you slice the bell pepper to grill with the wings.
“i also don't remember you telling me renjun was coming early today?” mark asks.
“hmm? no, i definitely told you renjun was coming early today.” you say, slicing onions now.
“when?” mark asks with bated breath.
“it was when you helped me when i almost tripped with all the bags.” you aren't looking at mark, so you completely miss the look on his face.
“i never helped you with that, babe.”
“what are you talking about? of course you di- ah.” you pause when you realise. you look up at mark, his face extremely surprised by the fact that you knew his secret. “surprise?” you offer, holding your hands up in a small shrug action.
-
“wow” mark sighs, running a hand through his hair after you had told him everything.
“yeah, well-” you smile at him, playing with his fingers. “you are very oblivious.”
“i see that,” mark groans, hiding behind his fingers as he thinks back to all the stupid things he did. “i’m an idiot.”
“that you are,” you grin. there's a knock on your door then, which means renjun's here because no one else knocks. jaemin and jeno have the emergency key, hyuck somehow has one too and chenle and jisung would never be this early.
“well now you and hyuck are the only people who know that im spiderman out of everyone.” mark says, feeling lighter without the secret weighing him down.
you snort as you make your way to open the door, “yeah, right.”
“what do you mean?” mark asks.
“oh my oblivious boy.” you sigh as you open the door and let renjun in. “all of us know.”
“you WHAT?”
renjun stares at the scene he just walked into.. and shrugs, used to it. he adds onto your last sentence. “who did you think you were fooling? you can't lie for shit.” he says, reaching for a cupcake as you swat his hands away.
mark looks shell-shocked and the two of you can't help but laugh at him.
“the only person who believed you is ji, babe.” you say, shaking your head.
-
hyuck is holding his stomach as he nearly cries from how hard he's laughing.
“oh my god, this is gold.” he says, holding on to the table for dear life.
it really is. jisung’s expression is one of pure shock as he finds out that mark is spiderman and mark looks sheepish as the rest of you laugh at how he had no idea you knew.
“wait but seriously? this isn't a prank?” jisung looks around the table.
“look at his face, ji.” chenle says, pointing at mark. “he wouldn't be this embarrassed otherwise.”
“no but like? for real though?” jisung asks.
you nudge mark. “go on, prove it to him.”
mark sighs, “fine. but only because he's the only one who actually didn't know.”
“you should be glad we're all not as trusting as jisung,” jeno says, shaking his head.
mark sighs and slightly jumps so he's attached to the ceiling with one hand.
“not enough,” jaemin calls out.
“what are you talking about!”
“crawl around,” jaemin says, a smile on his face at mark’s annoyed expression.
“this is enough!” he says.
“do it,” you toss a tissue box at him.
“fine.” he crawls once around the ceiling before hopping down. “enough entertainment for you guys?”
jaemin looks pleased and jisung looks absolutely amazed.
mark sits back down next to you and you intertwine your hands.
“thank for saving me today, spidey.” you whisper, kissing his cheek.
“any time.” he replies, softly squeezing your hand.
my note: i wrote this in like an hour bc spidey! mark got stuck in my head. i had so much fun with this and i absolutely adore hyuck. i absolutely adore this lil chocoball oml
song rec: honestly right now, boom by nct dream is playing in my head but poppop by nct wish is really good too (watch the anime version) and something that matches this fic could be uh again raincouver by mark (im a bit biased) or even 1999 by mark because its instrumental is very superhero-esque. (i cant believe i rec-ed 4 songs in one 😭)
note: can be read in order or as a stand alone but I think it's fun reading it in order. open to all criticism and new ideas
[ requests open ]
main masterlist - nct masterlist
Loaded - Zhong Chenle [complete]
chenle x fem!reader
- in which a desperate joke about needing a sugar daddy accidentally manifests a millionaire classmate who takes his new role very seriously.
Intro to Being Delulu 101 - Lee Donhyuck [complete]
haechan X fem!reader
- in which one disastrous chemistry experiment turns into a feud and haechan thinks you bullying him online is a form of love language
Quarter Life Crisis - Park Jisung [complete]
jisung x fem!reader
- in which Jisung puts his feelings aside and plays boyfriend for his dream girl to make her situationship jealous
Focal Point - Na Jaemin [complete]
jaemin X fem!reader
- in which you blackmail Na Jaemin with his stalker level photographs and his only solution is to double down because his ego is as big as his portfolio
Loser's Luck - Mark Lee [complete]
mark x fem!reader
- in which dreamies decide that mark's taking way too long to ask you out so they take matters into their own hands via a thirst trap and DM
Sold Out - Lee Jeno [ongoing]
jeno x fem!reader
- in which Jeno Lee needs a solution to his mother's matchmaking and you need a front-row view of your favorite artist
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𝜗𝜚 welcome to the dream fraternity! seven dreamy boys, seven absolutely cheesy love stories where you’re the main character! warning: you might hate yourself during the process…but what’s love without a little chaos?
contains 18+ content
I. STUPID CUPID
pairing: fuckboy! na jaemin x secret identity! reader
synopsis -> mr. cupid — anonymous radio host. running the #1 most popular radio show on campus. famous for his thoughtful advice and classified as a true hopeless romantic. na jaemin — photography major, the sweet fuck-boy. described to be affectionate and gentle…but don’t fall for his tactics! once he’s done with you, he’s gone with the wind. your best friend unfortunately happened to be on the receiving end of this. what happens when you find out that the anonymous radio host is none other than na jaemin himself? sweet revenge.
𝜗𝜚
II. FLYING KISS
pairing: childhood best friend! lee jeno x nerd! reader
synopsis -> you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who can’t even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. who’s better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be sexy?
𝜗𝜚
III. SORRY, HEART
pairing: friends with benefits! mark lee x tutor! reader
synopsis -> sex helps him focus. focus he needs for your tutoring sessions. it was a win-win for mark lee when you proposed to add a stress-relief session to the schedule. the favorite fuckboy and the girl who doesn’t believe in love equals the ultimate friends with benefits set-up. it’s the perfect dream team! but uh oh…it seems like mark has been shot by cupid’s arrow. will mark survive all of your attempts at pushing him away?
𝜗𝜚
IV. IRREPLACEABLE
pairing: enemy! lee haechan x ex bff! reader
synopsis -> lee haechan, theatre major, absolutely hated your guts. you felt the same exact way. the only girl in this whole university that hasn’t fallen for the most popular fuckboy’s charms. which is why it sucks that you have both landed the main roles in the theater’s upcoming play, romeo and juliet. what was that saying about love and hate being a thin line?
𝜗𝜚
V. MY FIRST AND LAST
pairing: bff! zhong chenle x fake gf! reader
synopsis -> zhong chenle, the lowkey fuckboy, captain of the basketball team, doesn’t believe in romance. flowers? chocolates? handwritten letters? ew. too cheesy. but he can’t seem to shake this crazy girl off of him so he goes to you, his best friend, cheerleading captain, for help. will you be his fake girlfriend? sure. the catch? it has to be believable so for the first time in his life he buys the flowers and the chocolate and writes the handwritten letters.
𝜗𝜚
VI. BREATHING
pairing: fuckboy! jisung x convenient gf! reader
synopsis -> park jisung has sworn off love after being cheated on. he’s been doing a really great job breaking hearts and not looking back. the boys are worried that they’ve taken fuckboy101 too seriously and have now created the ultimate fuckboy. this conversation was heard by your group of friends who never backs away from a challenge. and so the bets are on: get the ultimate fuckboy to fall in love with you and you’ll get $125 from each friend. deal?
𝜗𝜚
VII. I HATE FRUITS
pairing: fake bf! renjun x best friend’s gf! reader
synopsis -> huang renjun, the fuckboy by association, couldn’t care less about romantic relationships. he’s perfectly fine with being single — prefers it, actually. when he accidentally drops a box on your head and you wake up with temporary amnesia, he’s forced to finally take care of a person other than his own self. what’s worse? you think he’s your boyfriend.
authors note: this is a work of fiction only and should not be taken seriously. the way the dream boys are portrayed in these stories are obviously not a representation of who they are in real life. thank you and have fun reading!
⏦ﾟ♡︎ likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated ⏦ﾟ♡︎
if you enjoyed this series and would like to show extra love and support, my ko-fi is open <3
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪mark lee, ever the stickler, has set himself a list of rules to follow until he obtains his degree and he’s had no problem sticking to it. but alas, rules are meant to be broken and mark isn’t as disciplined as he prides himself in being. especially when you smile at him like that.
pairing: student!mark x fem!reader
genre: college au, fluff, very light angst, kinda slice of life, strangers to lovers
word count: 11k hehe
warnings: swearing, not proofread, mark is a little insufferable, reader is referred to as she/her, small food mention, they kiss but its nothing spicy, reader cries but its nothing too angsty, i'm projecting my feelings for mark here, i wrote this in 5 days
mani's notes: thank you @1ntaks for beta reading and encouraging mark delulu hours. you'll be the witness at our wedding
Ah, yes. The university library where it reeks of dread and stale paper. You thought you were the only idiot who would step foot in this place on a Friday, but you’re quickly surprised by the lack of empty tables on all three floors. Shouldn’t these people be at home preparing for the absolute ragers someone must have planned for the night? Nerds.
You’re about to call it quits and kiss your research paper goodbye until you spot him. On the very top floor of this god forsaken library, sits a boy at one of the tables near the window. Black framed glasses are perched on his nose bridge and his equally black hair sticking up in all sorts of places. Notebooks, textbooks, and loose papers lay spread across the table as the boy goes to absolute town on writing whatever he’s working on on a piece of paper. You know that face. Of course you know that face – it’s fucking Mark Lee.
Well, you kinda know him through the giggles and whispers that bubble up from others as they spot him on campus. He’s a total hit with the babes, but you’ve never seen Mark react to any of it. The boy is always power walking to his next destination with his lips pursed and dumb, wired earphones in. Even when someone shouts his name, loud enough to pierce through whatever song he had blasted, he’ll just look up at the source and give a nod. Never one to stop and chit-chat. Pretty interesting guy, you think.
Knowing all this, you can tell just exactly how focused he is and start to feel bad for what you’re about to do, but he’s the only one with a table to himself, meaning he’s got extra space. “Hey,” you start off once you’re close enough. The boy's head snaps up quickly to the sound, eyes widening at the intruder (you). “I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re the only one with space at a table right now… Is it okay if I sit here with you?”
He looks around, scanning his surroundings to find that you weren’t lying. Groups of 3-4 students were huddled at each table, leaving him all alone at a place meant to seat five. “Oh, uh…” he mumbles, moving his things to create some space for you. “Sure, no problem.”
You smile at him in thanks, pulling out a chair and taking a seat diagonal to him. He’s quick to go back to whatever he was doing, looking back down at his notes and continuing to write. “I’m Y/N,” you introduce yourself, unzipping your bag to pull out your own notes. He tries his absolute best to hold back a groan, but he just lost his whole flow so he has no choice but to deadpan back at you.
“Mark” he states simply and you’re still beaming at him despite the sour look on his face.
The loud sound of your laptop turning on causes his eye to twitch, but you pay no mind. “Thanks for letting me sit here, Mark! I promise I won’t bother you too much.” Mark gives you nothing but a grimace in response, hoping you stick to your word. He was just on a roll before you arrived, nearly ripping his pen through his notebook paper with how intensely he was writing and now he feels like he has to take 20 deep breaths before getting back into it. And surely enough, he does.
Only a handful of minutes go by before he starts to catch your movements out of the corner of his eye. You really haven’t said a word to him, but you’re the type of student who’ll work for maybe 15 minutes, then take an even longer break. He wants to bang his head against the wall everytime you begin to fidget with your phone or click your pen over and over, or lean back in your chair and sigh, but he doesn’t. Even if Mark has a whole system for studying and you just ruined it, he’s not a bitch!
It’s not until your 3rd break in the hour do you speak up. “I’ll be right back,” you tell him. Moving to stand up, Mark's eyes follow your movements. “Don’t move!”
Tell that to yourself, he wants to reply. Instead, he opts for a nod of the head and an “okay.” Taking it as a sign, Mark gets back to work quickly. If he’s lucky, he’ll get through at least three modules before you come back and disturb the peace again. Now, that’s a little mean. You’re not even doing that much to bother him, but remember Mark Lee’s got his own system and rules to follow in order to keep himself on track. He’s so self-disciplined that it’s never failed him and he’d like to keep it that way, even if today kind of threw a wrench in his plans. Mark is normally always studying alone with no one even daring to approach him. His own friends are always welcomed, of course, but they never last long at Mark’s table with the way he stares them down whenever they start non-academic discussions. He doesn’t mind, though. Actually, he likes the fact that his friends respect him and his ways enough to know their limits.
He doesn’t hear you come back, until you slide a pack of crackers towards him. You say nothing as you move the snack across the table, giving him a sweet smile that he just can’t return. “There’s no eating in the library, Y/N.”
“So,” you shrug, plopping back into your seat. “No offense Mark, but you’re telling me you won’t break the rules for some ol’ processed fuel for the brain?” The crinkling sound of the package opening causes Mark’s eyes to blow wide once again. He turns his head fast to look around, making sure that no one bears witness to you munching on a contraband that could lead him to getting kicked out. Or worse – BANNED.
“There’s rules for a reason,” he chides at you, whispering so others don’t hear you breaking the law.
You roll your eyes at how frigid he’s being and turn back to your essay in front of you. The snack was just what you needed to go on. “Whatever, but I’m just saying” you wave a hand at the boy. “I spent a dollar fifty on you because I heard your stomach screaming from across the table.” Mark’s mouth opens to counter your remark, but is silenced by the rumbling feeling in his stomach. You heard it too, of course. Having heard it the whole time you’ve been sat here.
The way his body has betrayed him leaves Mark no choice but to silently open the snack under the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him looking around frantically before shoving a cracker in his mouth.
Mark Lee’s guide to being better than everyone: rule #4 I know you’re a broke college student, but stay away from processed food as much as you can.
You run into Mark again a few times after that day in the library. Just in passing on campus and at the coffee shop nearby, but there was never enough time for you to have a chat with him. Whenever you lock eyes with the dark haired boy, you give him your best smile and a big wave hello. Mark returns every single greeting with his own tight lipped smile and a raise of a hand before quickly looking away and continuing his business. A few passerby’s give you two a look, because no way Mark Lee just acknowledged someone. The reality is that Mark thinks you’re causing a scene with the way you’re obnoxiously waving at him and he just wants you to stop. You were hoping to see him again with enough time to actually talk to the guy. The only interaction you have with him can’t be him scolding you for buying him a snack and eating it in the library.
That moment finally comes when you spot Mark sitting right in the middle of the quad. He’s sat criss crossed on the grass, posture straight as he stares ahead almost as if he’s meditating in the middle of campus? What an odd dude.
You make your way over to him anyway, deciding that he needs a buddy to meditate with. “Hi Mark,” you greet, sitting cross legged next to him. He barely moves to see who has infiltrated his space, knowing only one person who’d do such a thing. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going alright,” Mark lets out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. Everything he had been trying to let go in the middle of this field starts to bubble up in a rant and it catches you off guard with the way this is the most you’ve ever heard Mark speak, but you listen intently anyway. “I swear, I swear! I packed my bag the night before like I always do, but when I got to my first class I couldn’t find my damn highlighters anywhere! Like who the freak forgets a whole 10 pack of mildliner highlighters?” You can’t help the grin that forms on your face as the boy continues to ramble on and on, some you can’t even make out because he’s drifting off to mumble to himself under his breath. “And it’s not like I could go back home to get them either, like I’m the idiot who decided to live off campus so I have like NO TIME to go and get them. I just had to sit in 3 back to back classes with no highlighters.”
Mark Lee’s guide to being better than everyone: rule #6 make sure everything you need for the next day is packed the night before.
Mark could have gone and gotten them during this break of his, but he felt so utterly defeated. And when Mark feels like this, he just doesn’t know what to do with himself other than sit someplace and stare – which is exactly what he was doing before you showed up. “I just can’t continue my day like this,” he sighs dramatically. “But I have 2 more classes before I can call it a day.”
He’s so weird and so dramatic for no reason. But you decide to put him out of his misery anyway, given recent events you just had (your last class). “Mildliner you say?” you hint, pulling out a yellow and a green highlighter from your pocket before handing it out to him. “It’s not a whole 10 pack, but it’s something to talk you off the ledge.”
You watch as Mark eyes fleet between the pens in your hands and your face with a confused, yet suspicious look on his face. “I can’t take these from you. Don’t you have classes, too?”
“Nope! I’m done for the day,” you shake your head, happily. “And they’re not mine, either. I found them on an empty desk in my last lecture so I just took them.” Mark continues to stare, deadpanning at you just like he did in the library a week before.
“First you eat in the library when you’re not supposed to,” he counts his fingers, scoffing. “Then you take someone’s highlighters? So you’re a criminal…”
It’s your turn to scoff, shoving the pens in the breast pocket of Mark’s jacket with a frown on your face. “I didn’t steal anything because nobody was there, Mark! Imagine how lonely they felt just being left there?!”
Mark can’t help the way the corners of his lip turn up at the sight of you pouting and spewing ridiculous nonsense about inanimate objects, but still points a finger at you. “I’ve had two whole conversations with you starting now and both times it’s you convincing me that rules don’t exist.”
“That’s not how you say ‘thank you’, Mark Lee,” swatting his finger out of your face, you cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow.
“I’m not thanking a thief,” he tsks, then lets out a light breath. “But considering how you saved those two lonely pens, thank you.” The small smile on the boy's face is enough to have you gushing. Standing up from your spot on the grass, you brush off any remnants from your pants and stick out a hand for him to take.
“Come on, get up” you smile at him. He takes your hand in his and you help to lift him off the ground with a groan, to which Mark scowls at. “When’s your next class? I’ll walk you!”
Checking the time on his watch, he informs you that his next class is pretty soon and you give him a tug to start moving. “Why are you gonna walk me? You don’t have to.”
You ignore him and he seems to be ignoring himself too with the way he’s following at your side. He rolls his head back to loosen his neck and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets as he walks with you. “Because that’s what friends are for, Mark!” you sing. “I don’t just give away free pens or spend a dollar fifty on vending machine crackers for just anyone, you know.”
“One, they’re not yours” he corrects, giving you a side eye. “Two, I never asked you to feed me. And three, no offense, but we don’t even know each other.”
“Hmm, true!” you hum in agreement, turning to look at his side profile. He turns his head slightly to look at you too and he can’t help but feel a little scared with the way a fire burns behind your eyes. “But I would like to get to know you more! You seem like a cool guy with your head screwed on kinda straight and I like how you’re always so focused. I need more hardworking friends like you.”
Seeing his lecture building come into view, Mark lets out a little sigh of relief. This moment is about to get awkward and he’s thankful that he’s reached the end of your walk together. “Look, Y/N” he starts, and if he wasn’t such a Leo – so headstrong, the way you’re looking at him with hope filled eyes and chest swelled with pride almost had the words die in his throat. “I-I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m really trying hard to work towards graduation.”
“Oh, I know” you cut him off. The interruption stops him for a little, giving you a look before continuing on.
“And while you seem like a nice girl, I don’t have time for a relationship right now.”
Tilting you head to the side a little, you wear a confused smile on your face. “I’m not looking to date you either, Mark. I just wanna be your friend.” He shuffles on his feet slightly in front of you, adjusting the straps of his backpack higher on his shoulders.
“I’m sorry, but the friends I have now are good enough for me” he gives you a smile, an awkward one that lets you know that he just wants this conversation to be over. “I barely have time to see them and when I do, they already keep me on my toes as it is.”
“Oh…” With the way Mark is fidgeting in front of you, looking around at literally anything but you, you decide to let the protests die down. “Okay, Mark. I’m sorry if I stepped over a line.” You give Mark your best smile, like you always do, and gesture for him to enter his lecture building. “But thank you for letting me walk you. I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Thank you, Y/N” he replies, looking down at his feet before walking into the building.
Settling in his unassigned, assigned seat at the front of the lecture hall, Mark plucks the two highlighters you had given him earlier out of his jacket pocket and places them gently on his desk. It definitely isn’t his 10 pack, but it’s the most at peace he’s felt all day. Mark is brought back to that day in the library. Those same words, “I won’t bother you” that you had promised to him, only for you to in fact, bother him. He has a feeling that it will happen again, but can’t dwell on it for long because he’s picturing him leaving you there by yourself as you wave goodbye to him. Not above and in the air like you had done before in passing, but a small, almost shy one with a meek expression on your face.
He decides not to think about it.
Mark hasn’t seen you in four days.
It really doesn’t bother him, like, it really doesn’t even if he’s been going about his days wondering if you’ll greet him as you always do from across the way. He just REALLY needs to return the highlighters to you as he’s been reunited with his full 10 pack ever since that day, swearing to never forget them again.
Okay, honestly, Mark thinks he was really mean to you after you walked him to class and he wants to say sorry. Also, thanks to Chenle who scolded the boy after he spilled his guts to his friend about his day with a sour look on his face.
“She bought you a snack, gave you highlighters for free, and walked you to class and you don’t even wanna be her friend?!” he had shrieked, standing to his full height with hands on his hips. “You are SO rude, I can’t even – who raised you?!”
Safe to say that Mark’s day did not get better after that, walking around with a permanent pout on his face as he thought about it. If he were to be so real right now, Mark would actually be the first one to spot you before you see him. After that first day in the library, for some reason, whenever he’d lift his gaze from the ground in front of him, they’d automatically zero in on your form. Those bright eyes weren’t hard to miss at all. Anyways, you had always been by yourself during those times. I mean, who would wanna be around someone who talks to the birds with a serious look on her face? Whether you were sitting somewhere in silence, staring off into space, or standing a full five minutes in front of the coffee shop menu in deep contemplation before pulling out your phone to ask Siri to flip a coin before you ordered, you were alone.
Mark was weird, but so were you. Not that he cared as a very self aware man. He knew he had odd tendencies, he knew he could be difficult to talk to or be around, but it was all the more special when someone took the time to actually try. Might as well be weird together, right? As desperate as he was to find you, he wasn’t going to try that hard. You’ll pop up eventually. But by the fourth day, Mark had started to grow agitated. Eyes flicking around the campus a lot more than usual and taking different routes to his classes in hopes of spotting you, only to fail. Until he decided to relax his nerves with some good ol’ study time because nothing like using your brain on max power!
Just like you had first found him before, there you were, sitting in the crowded library at a table by yourself. Your whole demeanor was opposite of Mark as you leaned back in your chair, legs outstretched under the table as you typed away on your laptop with huge headphones over your ears. Despite how fast your fingers flew across your keyboard, you looked so relaxed with your lips turned up in a small smile. He wonders what you’re thinking about.
“Oh well,” Haechan sighs, a sarcastic tone laced in his voice. Mark decided to drag Haechan with him to the library today to basically force and beg the boy to finish his seven late assignments. “We really tried our best, Markie. Let’s go get a sweet treat to reward our efforts!”
All Mark can do is roll his eyes at his best friend, knowing how hard he fought to not come here with him. Literally whined and complained the whole time while dragging his feet on the way to success. Mark really did try his best, giving Haechan a motivational speech about how he could do it and he was there to help him, but seeing you right there when he needed to, Haechan can go fail for all he cares. “Actually, I’m gonna stay,” he declares, turning to look at Haechan with a shrug. “I see someone I know so I’m gonna go sit with them.”
“You know people?” Haechan gasps, bringing a hand up to his mouth in surprise. Mark shoves him by the shoulder in response, groaning.
“Shut up!” he chides, using force to physically turn Haechan’s body towards the library exit. “I was gonna invite you to join us, but you can leave, like actually.” Haechan lets Mark manhandle him, complying with taking his happy ass out of the library as he laughs. As Mark watches Haechan wave goodbye to him, he exhales deeply, cheeks puffed to calm himself before turning back towards your direction. With each step he takes closer to you, he gives himself a little pep talk in his head and goes over everything he needs to do. First, ask to sit with you. Second, give you back your highlighters. Third, apologize for how mean he was to you four days ago. Fourth, calculus homework. Light work.
Seeing his form loom over you, you look up in surprise with your eyes wide. You quickly straighten your back and lift one side of your headphones off your ears. When you smile at Mark, even with confusion knitted between your brows, he feels a sense of ease wash over him. “Hi,” he breathes. “Is it okay if I sit with you?” Step one: CLEARED!
You say nothing, nodding at the boy with that smile on your face still. After gesturing at the seat in front of you for him to take, you avert your eyes back to your screen and adjust your headphones back into its place. Mark gladly pulls out his chair, taking his backpack off to unpack his things. Even with all the bustling movements in front of you, not once do you look up or attempt to make conversation as he settles in and Mark doesn’t know what to do next. You’re like, actually locked in, a big difference compared to when you two were first sat in this library. He guesses he could move step 4 to step 2 and complete some of his assignments before resuming with the plan. Wake his brain up a little bit, you know?
Ten minutes in and you still haven’t said a word. Still haven’t even taken a glance at him and Mark is officially bothered. He’s been working on the same problem this whole time, unable to move past the third step to solve it. He taps the end of his pencil against his notebook a few times, leg bouncing frantically, before ultimately letting the stick fall out of his hand with a sigh. Leaning back in his seat, Mark stretches his neck from side to side to relieve some tension before letting it completely fall slack, chin against his chest with his arms crossed. Back to the tapping, his pointed finger beats against his arm as he thinks about how to break the ice. When he lifts his gaze to discreetly look at you, you’re still not paying any attention to him in clear agony. His bag sits in the chair next to him, the front pockets zipper open and he sees the two highlighters you had given him. He could just slide them across the table to you in order to get your attention, but would that be enough to start a conversation? What if you just don’t accept them or throw them back in his face? Well, you let him sit here with you so he couldn’t have messed up that bad… Okay, but what if–
Marks inner monologue was cut short when he catches your movements out of the corner of his eye. You’ve finally taken your headphones off and stretched your arms above your head. Now’s his chance, get the plan back on track. “I wanna be friends!” he blurts out, stopping you mid stretch. His outburst was pretty loud for the quiet atmosphere of the library, catching the attention of a few students nearby. Mortified, Mark feels his whole face heat up and slouches lower in his seat. He scolds himself under his breath as he places both hands on his head, lowering the brim of the hat he was sporting over his eyes. You can’t help but giggle at the blushing boy in front of you, extending your foot to give his leg a tap from under the table. He uncovers his face slightly to look at you and you grin at the expression he wears.
“If this is about the other day, it’s really okay” you assure him, propping your elbow on the table to rest your chin in your hand. “I understand and I’m not mad at you.”
“You’re not?” he wonders, a little surprised. When you shake your head in reply, he sits up fully and leans in a little closer to you from across the table. Mark does not need anyone hearing any more of this conversation. “I-I just wanna say sorry, Y/N. I was pretty rude to you that day when you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”
“Is that why you’ve been sitting here in distress this whole time?” you laugh, quietly. “You really don’t need to feel bad, Mark but I accept your apology anyway.” Marks smile mirrors your own, admiring the way you’ve been so accepting of the situation when he was clearly in the wrong. “But still, we don’t have to be friends if you don’t want to.”
“I want to!” he interjects, nearly jumping up in his seat. “You really are a nice person and I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more, too. I shouldn’t have treated you like that when you basically saved my life that day.” Mark moves to grab the pens from his bag, laying them out on the table for you to take. “Which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to give these back to you.”
Reaching your hand out, you scoot the pens back in Marks direction. “You can keep them as backups or something,” you wave off. “You’d probably use them more than I would anyway. I take all my notes electronically.” Pulling out your fancy tablet from your bag, you wave it around for him to see and Mark’s just in disbelief.
“How can you retain any information that way?” he gapes, eyes popping out of their sockets. “Connecting your pen to paper helps you process your thoughts better, you know.”
“This is better for the environment!” you argue, rolling your eyes and Mark shakes his head in disapproval. He starts going on a whole tangent about the benefits of physical note taking and you just sit there and take it. But the conversation flows easily with you and Mark talking to each other back and forth. Neither of you get back to your studies for the remainder of the afternoon.
Mark Lee’s guide to being better than everyone: rule #7 study time is quiet time (friends allowed but they need to shut up).
Heavy footsteps trudge through the halls of the lecture building, but Mark has never felt so light. Even if his shirt is wrinkled, hair all over the place, and eyes about a second away from shutting, he walks to his 8 am class with a tiny smile on his face.
It’s been weeks since you and Mark had bloomed a friendship. Weeks filled with studying late in the library, fighting over who gets to pay for the sweet treat of the day, and gallivanting around campus as conversation fills the silence between you two. Mark had honestly thought that he’d take a while to warm up to you, but he finds it incredibly easy to open up and be himself in your presence. He likes that he can talk to you about anything and everything, and you listen to him with your full attention. Mark Lee prides himself in how strong his walls are built and how dedicated he is to his craft (being a student), but it’s like his whole resolve crumbles with the more you’re near. Ask him if he cares, because he doesn’t.
From the moment he had entered the education system at the young age of five, he never stopped. Mark immediately enrolled in college after graduating high school, barely having time to explore the woes of life. So now in his third year of his undergrad, it felt nice to finally feel alive – do everything boys his age are supposed to do. Like last night, Mark had stayed up until midnight on the phone with you, giggling over the drama you two had started watching together during your study breaks. Even after you both had hung up the call, you two had continued to send messages to one another. By the time Mark had fallen asleep, it really wasn’t that late to the normal person, but Mark Lee has a bedtime that he did not follow. Hence, his appearance today.
Mark Lee’s guide to being better than everyone: rule #2 get a full 8 hours of sleep every night – nothing more, nothing less.
His body feels like dead weight and he can’t stop yawning, but Mark’s heart is soaring. Not that he knows it. As smart as he is, he’s also a big idiot atoning these fluttering feelings to the excitement of having a new friend around. He doesn’t think much about the fact that his favorite part of the day isn’t putting in his earphones while sat in front of a pile of textbooks anymore, but going to meet you in between classes.
Fueled by caffeine from his second iced tea of the day (coffee makes him feel sick), Mark is basically skipping towards you sat on a bench under the tree. He can’t wait to gush to you about the new topic he’s learning about in his lit class, but the words die down in his throat when he sees the look on your face.
You’re sat stiff on the bench, hands balled into fists as you struggle to catch your breath. Instead of greeting him with that glowing smile of yours, he’s met with a solemn Y/N. It’s like a dark rain cloud was brewing a storm over your head and when Mark approaches with a soft call of your name, he sees the tears brimming your eyes, only to fall free when he asks what’s wrong. Your lip quivers as you struggle to find the words to answer your friend and Mark feels like his whole world is falling apart.
He moves quickly to sit next to you, arms moving to wrap around your shaking figure, but he doesn’t quite make it all the way. Everyone knows Mark is not a physically affectionate person and he’s never done anything more than shove your shoulder when you made a joke he didn’t like. This was new territory for him, to comfort a crying friend, which is why he’s sat frozen with his torso turned towards you, arms in the air, looming above your form and not making contact. Mark’s mouth gapes open and closed like a fish, thinking about what he can say to comfort you, but you take matters into your own hands and fully lean into the boy. Your face buries itself into his shirt as you wail like a baby and Mark has no choice but to finally engulf you in his arms when he feels your tears seep through the fabric.
“Remember that project I was working on all last week?” you muffle into his chest. Mark hums in response because of course he remembers. He remembers how hard you had slaved over your project, doing your best to ensure that it was perfect. But he also remembers how excited you were to have this as your assignment, how bright your eyes had shone when you told Mark how confident you were in the topic to execute it well. This class of yours wasn’t the easiest for you, so it was like a breath of fresh air for you to finally understand something being presented. “My professor kept me after class and tore me to fucking shreds. Told me everything I had written was wrong and the whole thing was crap a-and basically said I should drop the class because I’m clearly not understanding anything!”
All Mark does is wrap his arms tighter around you, resting his cheek atop your head. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he mumbles into your hair and you pull back abruptly, gripping his shirt in your hands.
“Am I really that stupid?” you hiccup, screwing your eyes shut. “That my professor tells me to drop out of his class?”
“Hey hey hey,” Mark scolds you, gripping your shoulders tight, basically shaking sense into you. “You’re not stupid, he’s stupid! You try so hard, Y/N and you shouldn’t discredit yourself like that.”
Sniffling, you give Mark a small, yet sad smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and he’s grown furious now. “I don’t think I’m trying hard, I’m just trying my best.”
“Then that’s all that matters,” he affirms, raising a hand to pat your hair. “Being a student isn’t easy, but you’re doing it! Don’t let one lousy professor tell you otherwise – I say you stick it to him and not drop.”
“I don’t know…” you laugh, trailing off in thought. “There’s a lot I have to think about. If I stay, he’ll probably give me hell, but if I actually drop, I’d be saving my GPA but my pride would be hurt.”
Mark purses his lips, then snakes his hands down to yours and pulls you up from the bench with him. “Tell you what,” he starts, tugging you to walk with him. “You don’t have to think about it right now, but how about we clear our heads and go do something?”
You’re struggling to keep up with Mark’s quick steps, the strap of your bag slipping off your shoulder. “Do what? Don’t you have class?” you interrogate him, pulling at his arm. “And can you slow down a little?”
He complies, slowing his walk to a normal pace and turns to you with a grunt. “What’s with all the questions? Just trust me,” he rolls his eyes and moves to stand behind you. Mark nudges you forward in the direction he wants despite your protests. “And don’t worry about my classes, I’ll take a sick day or something. I can’t just leave you by yourself after seeing you cry like that!”
“I’m fine, Mark” shrieking, you reach behind you to make him let go of you. “It’s really okay! You don’t have to break your perfect attendance record for me.” He finally stops forcing you to come with him, stepping to the side to walk alongside you with a light hand on your back to keep you from running.
“I don’t have to, but I want to” he smiles down at you, which you return with an unimpressed look. “What are friends for, right?” You finally give up, letting Mark take you to wherever he had in mind to do whatever.
“Fiiine,” you relent and take a step closer to his side. “But you’re paying!” Mark smiles at you again, wrapping his arm fully around you for the second time that day in a side hug before dropping it to hang in between your bodies.
Mark Lee’s guide to being better than everyone: rule #5 DO NOT SKIP CLASS (unless you’re sick and I mean dying).
From bike riding to ice cream in the park, Mark kept you busy all afternoon. You have to applaud his efforts with the way he was constantly cracking lame jokes just to pull your face up and encouraging you (peer pressure) to let him buy you a second cup of ice cream. If you could give Mark Lee his flowers for making you feel better right now, you totally would, but instead you settled for treating him to the little Lego figurines he had been eyeing in the trinket store you visited.
“Uhhh,” the boy basically moans in delight. “Since we didn’t go to class, this is perfect to stimulate our brains!”
You chuckle at how ridiculous he is and how silly he looks. The two of you are sat on a picnic table in a random park, unboxing your figurines to build. Mark had picked a hippo and a penguin while you just chose to build a cat. The excitement is basically rolling off his body as he vibrates in his seat, tearing into the box and plastic bag containing the pieces. “You that excited?”
Mark makes a face at you from across the table, almost as if he’s offended. “Of course I am! For ages 8 and up, easy work dude” he basically brags, chest puffing up. “Thank you for getting these, Y/N. I didn’t mean to linger on them long enough for you to feel like you had to get them.”
“I wanted to,” you chirp, shaking your head. “It’s the least I could do for you after all you’ve done for me today.” He says nothing, glancing at you for a moment before continuing to build his penguin. A grin slips onto his face as he watches you struggle with the tiny pieces, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
You both continue to build in silence, enjoying each others company as the sun starts its journey to dreamland. The sky is painted in hues of gold, pinks, and blues, the warmth starting to settle between you two. Mark notices the rays coming down on his skin at looks up at the beautiful sight, quickly pulling his phone out to snap a picture.
“I have to send this to my friend, Renjun” he hums, satisfied look on his face. “He’s gonna love this.”
You coo at Mark and he ignores you, finishing up his penguin. “You send your friend pictures of the sunset often?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, busying his fingers with the pieces. “Renjun’s an artist so I like to send him stuff I think looks pretty. Maybe he’d draw it or something, but he never asked me to stop so I just keep doing it.”
Biting down on your lip, you have to contain your smile and squeals at how endearing this guy was. “I hope he’s drawn at least one of them” you voice. “I know if someone sent me pictures of every sunset, I’d cherish it.”
Mark laughs in response, but trails off as he starts to think. He’s finished his penguin now, rolling the figure between his fingers. It’s only the size of his palm, but he doesn’t think he’ll get to finish the hippo as this took him nearly an hour. It’ll be dark soon.
“Y/N,” he starts somewhat sheepish. “Why don’t you have any friends?”
His question freezes you in your seat and you eye him from under your lashes. “I have friends,” you utter. “I’m friends with my roommate.”
“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters. With the way the air has shifted, Mark feels as if he hit a nerve. “It’s just t-that everytime I see you on campus, you’re alone! I don’t really see you talking to anyone else…”
Also finished with your cat figure, you fold your hands into your lap and stare it down. “Is that a bad thing?”
He shakes his head furiously, reaching a hand across the table to tap on it and get your attention. “No, no! Not at all” he insists and takes your cat to stand next to his penguin. “I was just curious, I’m sorry if I made you upset.”
Looking back up at the boy across of you, the corners of your mouth turn up to give him a small grin. “It’s okay, Mark. There’s nothing wrong with asking questions” you explain. “It’s not like I don’t want friends, I just don’t really know how to make them? I’m not the type of person to strike up a conversation out of the blue… Even with group projects, it’s a little hard for me to open up.”
“You?” Mark scoffs. “Not the type of person to make conversation with strangers? Then how do you explain how we became friends.” To prove his point, Mark inches your Lego figures closer together.
“I guess you’re right,” you laugh, throwing your hands in the air. “I don’t really know what’s up with me then. But at least I have you now, right?”
“Yeah,” he breathes, chuckling to himself too. “Yeah, you got me now. So don’t you worry, Y/N. I’ll send you pictures of every sunset I capture.”
You bring your hands together, clasping them against your cheek as you look out into the horizon. Watching the bright sky paint itself in an array of different colors before it says goodbye for the day, you’ve never felt more content. And Mark does the same, eyes following the rays of gold bleed into pink, but he doesn’t think he can enjoy it as much as you do right now.
He just can’t believe that he’s here with you in a random park in the city. Instead of sitting in class, he’s sitting at a table building animals out of extremely tiny Lego pieces. Mark didn’t even send his professors a courtesy email that he wasn’t going to be present today, too focused on helping you feel better. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he was also busy trying to forget that gloomy look on your face. It was the first time Mark had ever seen you cry, and he hopes it will be the last.
A part of him also understands you. The overwhelming pressure of having to do well and not wanting to wave a white flag for the sake of your confidence in yourself. Mark knows it all too well. He also knows how hard it can be to make friends here. No one ever attempts to get to know Mark, only approaching to ask if he’d accompany them on a romantic date or help them pass their classes. It took him a while to learn how to say no, and thank God he did. He’s content in his little bubble with the good friends he has, but sometimes he wonders what life would be like if he just gave in. Who would Mark Lee be if he wasn’t so stubborn in his ways?
“Y/N,” he begins again. “Do you think I’m difficult?”
Turning your gaze away from the darkening sky, you give Mark a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Like,” he sighs, crossing his arms across his chest. He looks down at the table in front of him, chewing on his lip. “Do you think I’m hard to deal with? Am I too stubborn to talk to?”
His explanation doesn’t fix your confusion, continuing to look at him funny. “No, Mark. It’s very easy for me to be around you,” you correct him, moving a hand to gesture between both your bodies. “I’m sat here with you— our first time hanging out off campus, by the way, after you comforted me while I cried into your shirt earlier today.”
“This was the most fun I’ve had in a while!” you continue, gushing when Mark doesn’t respond. “I’m not sure what’s going on in that big head of yours, but I enjoy your company. Heck, I asked you to be my friend during our second meeting! You are anything but difficult.”
Mark looks up, taking in the sight of you sat across of him. The sky has turned into a pretty pink as the sun has started it’s descent closer to the horizon and it’s casted over you beautifully. There must be a magic in the air that has sparked a look in your eyes that is so comforting. He’s been wary of the elation he’s felt since the day he met you. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but in that moment, Mark has never been so sure in his life about going against everything he set himself up for.
“Come on,” Mark smiles and nods his head towards the path. “Let’s go home.”
Johnny hears shuffling from Marks room and decided to peak in. Cracking the bedroom door open, he’s met with the boy pacing back and forth, combing his hand through his hair frantically. He can hear Mark mumbling to himself, using his hands to express whatever he was feeling to himself. “Dude,” Johnny calls out and Mark snaps his head towards the sound so fast, he thinks he’s got whiplash. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Fuck if I know!” he roars, placing both hands on his head. “If anyone can tell me what’s wrong with me, PLEASE DO.”
The older boy sighs, stepping through the threshold as he prepares himself for what’s about to come. He’s used to Mark being on edge, but this is the guy who apologizes whenever he swears. “Come here, buddy” Sat on Marks’ bed, Johnny pats the seat beside him and Mark obliges. His head is hung low and lips set into a deep pout. “Tell Johnny what’s wrong.”
Mark lets out a sigh of his own, whining as he falls back onto his bed and stares at the ceiling. He had just woken up from his 3pm nap he takes every other day that lasts precisely an hour and a half. Two hours if he feels like treating himself, but today, Mark had woken up in a cold sweat just a little after 8pm.
Mark Lee’s guide to being better than everyone: rule #3 if you need a nap, only nap on MWF when you end classes early (only nap for 2 hours MAX).
As soon as he sat up, eyes blown wide, he let out a hushed “oh fuck.” He’s usually so tired that he never dreams. Ever. But this time, all he could see in his slumber was you. You, who he had seen just a few days ago after ditching classes. Forget everything he felt and thought that day because it was starting to feel a little too real.
It came to him in flashes, like he was in some sort of stupid movie. From walking down the street together, to banging on rigged claw machines, to simply sitting across of you at the picnic table in the park, Mark dreamt of every moment you had spent with him. Except, whenever he laid eyes on you, the whole world had slowed down to a serene still and tints of light illuminated around your entire being. And when you smiled like you always did, little bells started chiming.
Oh, the bells. That dream was straight out of those romance movies Haechan likes to watch regularly. What kind of sick world is this?
“I’m so screwed, man” he voices, rubbing a hand over his face. “I-I think I like Y/N. Whatever that means…”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Johnny muses. “If you like her, then you like her. Y/N’s that girl you’ve been hanging around with a lot?”
Mark sits up fully, head still hanging low. He can’t believe he’s having this conversation right now, even if he lowkey knew it was coming. “Yeah, that’s her” he mumbles. “I swear she hexed me or something! I skipped class the other day to hangout with her, been eating way too many vending machine snacks, and haven’t been getting my full 8 hours of sleep, bro! That’s so not like me.”
“First of all, you’re an idiot. Girls aren’t witches, they’re just celestial beings” Johnny scoffs, rolling his eyes at his young friend. “Second of all, did she force you to do all those things?”
“What? No,” Mark protests. “I wanted to do all those things, with her.”
“Okayyy,” Johnny rolls. “Are your grades slipping from ditching or not sleeping?”
Mark blinks at the boy sitting next to him. “No, I’m a week ahead in all my classes.”
“Then what’s the problem here, man?” Johnny belts, standing to his full height. “Cause I’m not seeing it!”
Still sat on his bed, Mark stomps his feet a little as he whines. “Johnny” he complains. “The problem is I’ve broken every single rule I made for myself. For just one person! Like I said, this isn’t like me and I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“Look Mark,” Johnny chastises, moving to sit next to him again on the bed. “I love you, dude. I really do and I admire how hard you’re working towards your education, but I wish you would just let yourself breathe a little.” Mark sits in silence, taking in every word. “I’m so glad that you’ve been following these rules you set for yourself and it’s been working, but why are you stopping yourself from experiencing something everyone dreams of? Why are you so scared?”
Great question that he doesn’t really know the answer to. He’s not scared of you, exactly. Marks more scared of the feelings you give him. You’re not trying to change his ways or who he is, in fact, you’ve been trying your damn hardest to fit yourself into Marks usual routine. You don’t make fun of him for his little quirks and comments and he likes how comfortable you make him feel. He likes how you just go with the flow of things, making it a breeze to just enjoy himself in that moment with you. Mark likes how he no longer feels the weight of the world when he’s around you.
Mark likes you. But he’s never felt this way before about anyone. Not even Jessica Alba in Fantastic Four while all his friends were drooling over their TV screens.
With pursed lips, Mark looks up to his friend with pleading eyes. “What do I have to do?”
“That’s not the question you should be asking,” Johnny smiles at him, shaking his head lightly. “You’re the most hardworking guy I know, no matter what you’re doing. Are you willing to put in that same effort with Y/N?”
Later that night, Mark lays awake and stares at his ceiling in the dark. He’s got one arm folded under his head and the other laid across his chest, deep in thought about the conversation he had with Johnny. He took way too long of a nap, so now he can’t fall asleep. Not to mention how his phone had been pinging with messages from you, but they remained unanswered as he contemplated.
What was he to do with you?
He could just pretend that he never had this groundbreaking realization. He could continue to remain the way he is with you, just friends. Mark doesn’t even know how you’d react to his feelings, but he can’t say he’s afraid to find out. Even if you were to turn him down, tell him he’s got no chance at romance, he doesn’t think he’d mind. Like yeah, he’d be pretty devastated, but who wouldn’t be? After talking with Johnny some more earlier today, he realizes how sure he is with the way his heart feels. He’s dumbfounded that this is happening to him, but he’s not embarrassed at all. Who knew that you, who had wanted to be his friend after only meeting for the second time, would be the one to change his entire view? Mark didn’t even want to be your friend at first, but here he is, possibly wanting something more.
You probably would think the switch was so sudden and Mark wouldn’t be able to tell you anything else. He doesn’t think you’re the type to completely cut him out if you don’t feel the same way, but there’s always that small chance in anything. He doesn’t know what to do with you, but he also has no clue what he would do without you. Groaning into the night air, Mark turns over to his side. He’s face to face with the bright numbers on his alarm clock that read 1:27 AM. Deciding to leave this problem to tomorrows Mark, he screws his eyes shut and tries to force himself to sleep. But he just lays there, staring at the dark behind his eyes still completely awake and tries to think of something that will put him to bed. And oh of course, all Mark can see is you.
He lets you consume him, taking every glimpse of you in and god damn Y/N, you are doing nothing to help! Marks leg starts to shake under the covers, twitching himself awake til he starts tossing and turning. Eventually, Mark gives up. He can’t get comfortable at all. Ripping his comforter off his body, Mark moves quickly to stand up and shoulder on a flannel that draped over his desk chair. Hasty fingers grab for his glasses and his phone before he books it out the door to God knows where.
No, Mark knows where he’s going in the dead of night. After walking you home the other day, he realized just how close you two were, living just a 10 minute walk away. But with the way Mark is moving, he finds himself standing outside of your apartment building in just 7 minutes. He’d move to enter, but he doesn’t actually know which unit you live in. So like the completely sane person he is, Mark starts shouting into the night, disturbing the peace.
“Y/N!” he howls, hands cupped over his mouth. There’s a few lights he can see on through the windows, but none of them show movement. “Y/N, it’s Mark!”
There’s only one window that’s open, and Mark sees the curtains tear open. There you stand, looking down at him from the fourth floor with disbelief all over your face. “Mark!” you whisper shout. This boy must have lost his damn mind to disturb you and your neighbors at this time, after ignoring your messages all night. “Are you insane?”
“Just come down, please” he brings his hands together, in a begging and pleading gesture. “I have to talk to you.”
Sighing, you move away from your window and start to make your way down to the front of your building. You’re praying to whoever’s listening that you don’t get any complaints in the morning from Mark screaming in the courtyard. Like seriously, he could have just called you quietly on his phone. You can see it hanging out of his pocket, but you assume he really is out of his mind when you take in his form.
He’s pacing again, fidgeting as you approach him closer and only snaps out of it when he sees you in the glow of the dim street lamps. “Hi,” he exhales and you just continue to eye him suspiciously.
“Hi,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s going on, Mark? It’s nearly 2 AM, you could have just called me.”
Mark smiles sheepishly at you, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbles, kicking the ground underneath him. “I wasn’t really thinking…”
“Clearly,” you muse, grinning at him. This is the most casual you have ever seen Mark, who never leaves the house unless he’s in a pair of jeans or nice pants. You can tell how much of a hurry he was in, dressed in old basketball shorts and slippers on his feet. The flannel he was wearing over his white tee was also inside out, but you don’t point it out to him. “But you’re thinking about something to come all the way here. What did you wanna tell me?”
“Uhhh,” he stutters, eyes darting around the dark, avoiding your gaze. “I didn’t wake you, right? I’m really sorry for not calling first.”
You shake your head no, waving him off. You were already awake, but it’s the weekend tomorrow so you have nothing to be up early for. The only important thing you were doing was doom scrolling on your feed. Mark would have known you were still awake if he had just checked his damn phone. Even if he wasn’t interrupting anything important, you still wish that Mark would spit it out. He just nods at your explanation, still not meeting your eyes and says nothing.
“Hey,” you call out, poking his middle with your finger. He caved into it, swatting your hand away because Mark Lee is ticklish. “Take your time, find the words. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Mark finally looks into your eyes, softening at the way they’re pouring into his. Your lips are curled into the prettiest smile and Mark thinks you have really nice teeth. It’s all enough to squeeze at his heart, causing his blood to pump furiously in his chest. He feels it tighten and tighten, until it finally explodes.
“I’m all bent outta shape, dude” he rants, staring right at you. “And it’s all because of you!”
You frown at his confession, wondering if he really came all the way over here just to call you out. “What did I do to you, dude?“
His shoulders slump and he rubs at his eyes. Sleep is finally getting to him now that he’s here, but Mark has always been way too good and getting what he wants to give up. “Everything,” he basically whines like a child. “And I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Mark looks to the sky, eyes screwed shut as he lets out a long exhale. You’re still confused as to what he’s trying to get at, but seeing him so perplexed himself has you concerned.
“Mark,” you coax, touching his arm lightly to bring him back down to Earth. “If I did something to upset you, I’m really sorry. But could you please tell me exactly what happened so I can fix it?”
Eyeing when your hand meets his skin, he smirks lightly at the tingling waves that shot up his arm. He taps the hand that connects him in a reassuring manner before completely engulfing it in his own. “I’m just being dramatic, it’s not that bad” he offers, stroking a thumb over your knuckles. Goosebumps peak through your skin at the gesture. “You did nothing wrong. It’s just…”
He trails off, looking down at your intertwined hands. “I have these rules for myself, called ‘Mark Lee’s guide to being better than everyone’ and I’m not trying to one up everyone I meet with this. It’s all just to help me succeed and be my best self as a student” he’s nervous as he wears his heart on his sleeve for you when he hears you laugh, but it quickly dissipates when you give his hand a squeeze in reassurance. Come on, it was a funny name! “And I’ve been really good at following them! It’s definitely helped me to stay on track, but from that first day we met in the library, I’ve just been breaking all of them.”
“Oh,” you gasp, quickly letting go of him to shy into yourself. “I’m sorry, Mark. Really, I never meant for you to go off track.”
“No, it’s okay!” he assures you, grabbing his hand back into his. In the middle of 70 degree weather, Mark felt cold for the split second you let go. “It’s not your fault and I don’t mind it at all. My point is, it’s just not like me at all to do this and I didn’t realize why until now.”
“I’m so used to being strict in my ways because it’s been working well for me, but here you come along, making it so unbelievably easy to forget it all,” you’re still not sure what he’s hinting at, but you continue to let him talk. “Forget it and realize that it’s not so bad as long as I’m with you, Y/N. I like that I can still be myself without all these rules or barriers, I can still sit in the library all night with you sleeping across of me.”
Mark can’t help the smile on his face at how wide your eyes have blown, almost as if you couldn’t believe what he was alluding to. He also can’t believe it, but the more he speaks, the more it feels right. Even if he feels like he’s saying a whole lotta nothing. But it’s something alright and you feel your heart start to beat a little quicker. You hope Mark can’t tell how your hands have started to clam up and tremble in his hold.
“I like the feeling you give me, that everything’s gonna be okay and I have nothing to worry about” he beams at you, steadying your shakiness with a tight grip. “I like you, Y/N.”
You say nothing, taking it all in. Mark starts to shuffle on his feet, loosening his hold on your hand but not fully letting go so you can’t book it inside. He should speak up and add that you don’t have to respond to him right now, because it really is sudden. It just felt like a good time to tell you, even though 2 AM is never a good time for anyone. But you cut him off before you get the chance, grinning like a Cheshire Cat at the nervous boy in front of you.
“You didn’t even wanna be my friend at first,” you point out, tapping your chin in thought with your free hand. “Now here you are, holding my hand and confessing to me in the dead of night?” You’re teasing him and he knows it.
“Ugh, I know” he exclaims, looking like a kicked puppy. “I’m just a stupid, dumb, idiot boy and I really felt bad for how I treated you that day.” You giggle quietly, stopping him from dropping to his knees in front of you to beg for forgiveness. “I know this all came so fast and I know I have a lot to learn. A lot of things to grow into, but I feel like I can do that as long as I’m planted next to you.”
The taunting coo you let out does nothing to cover the blush rushing to your cheeks. You move your arms to wrap fully around his neck, standing on your tip toes to hide your flushed face in his shoulder. Mark reciprocates, encircling you in his hold completely as he pulls you closer to him. “You’re so cute” you squeal, nuzzling your face closer and inhaling his scent. “You’re so sweet, Mark. I will gladly plant myself next to you.”
You pull away slightly, still face to face with the boy who is also blushing. He’s fighting back a smile, the apples of his cheeks making a prominent appearance. “Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” he’s so clueless with the way he asks you the question, causing you to laugh again. If anyone were overlooking the two of you right now, all smiles and blushing messes, they’d think you’re insane.
“Do you want me to be?” you press further and Mark nods his head vigorously. His hold tightens around you for the nth time that night.
“Can I be honest real quick?” he utters, staring deep into your eyes. He’s been honest this whole time, you don’t know why he needs to ask. “I’m kinda scared…”
You pat his shoulder reassuringly, standing further on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “We can go as slow as you’d like, Mark. I’ll be here all the way.” Mark feels a wave of warmth wash over him, suddenly feeling bold and straightens his back.
“I think you missed,” he states. You’re back to wondering what the hell he was talking about until you feel his lips on yours.
The kiss is soft, short, but sweet. It’s enough to unleash a cage of butterflies in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough for Mark to know exactly how you feel, even if you never said it.
Pulling away, you two share a shy smile as you lean your forehead against his. You play with the hair on the nape of his neck as you lean back in for another. So much for going slow, Mark thinks as he’s basically clawing at your sides to pull you unbelievably closer to him. He breaks away first this time, leaning into your neck as if he can’t get enough of you.
“Go home, Mark” you laugh at the tickling feeling against your skin. “I’ll see you after we’ve both had some rest, okay?”
He only sighs loudly and dramatically before pulling back, reluctant to release his hold on you. His feet step away from you slowly, towards the direction of his own apartment building. Mark doesn’t want to go. Mark wants to spend all his time with you, even in the middle of the night, but he listens to your request anyway. You’ve gotten him wrapped around your finger, after all. He knows you’ll have all the time in the world, starting now and he can’t wait for the days to come.
Mark Lee’s guide to being better than everyone: rule #1 no dating of any kind to prevent distraction (90 and above or no love).
Spoiler: Mark keeps his 3.9 GPA until graduation and graduating with honors is literally nothing compared to the love you shower him in.
mani's notes: i hope you enjoyed reading this! yk true cloudykyu fashion is no real plot lines and whiplash time skips lol it's my first long fic since coming back so i would appreciate any feedback :D please let me know your thoughts in the tags or my ask box!! <3 happy valentines day unless you're mark lee
