neo city station

The white gown holds your loose pieces together, the layers of silk and frills falling into a beautiful, though rather unconventional bridal dress. Out of everything, the piece of clothing turned out to be one of the very few things that Minhyuk’s mother had given you free reign on. The irony isn’t lost on you, given how pointless the choice feels now.

Staring at your perfectly made-up self in the mirror, the muffled laughter from the guests outside sounds like white noise over the rapid heartbeats thumping against your ear. Wide, panicked eyes meet your own, leaving your hands trembling against the edge of the vanity.

Lost in your stupor, you completely miss the suite’s door opening. As your best-friend steps into the room, dressed accordingly to the bridesmaids’ palette, her voice startles you as she suddenly calls your name.

“Hey, are you all done?” she asks, moving to stand beside you with a grin tugging at her lips. “If we wait any longer, you’re going to be late than usual—”

Barely a whisper, your voice quivers as you interrupt her. “Mia, I can’t do this.”

Mia freezes for a moment, pausing midway through checking her make-up in the mirror to glance back at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“I can’t get married,” you say, a little more steady despite the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this, I… I don’t even love Minhyuk like that, Mia.”

As if she’s trying to process the words, Mia just frowns. “Is this one of your pranks? Because it really isn’t funny,” she protests at first, regarding you for a second longer as your silence extends, shock soon taking over her face. “Oh my God, you’re serious. Are you serious?”

You nod, breathing heavily inside the expensive dress. “Yeah.”

“Baby… there’s a ton of guests downstairs,” she answers, her voice lowering with a touch of hesitation and bewilderment. “Minhyuk is downstairs greeting them right now. His family is downstairs raving about their son’s marriage as we speak.”

Shaking your head, you finally feel the tears falling down your cheeks. “I can’t get married, Mia.”

A moment of silence settles between you, both unsure of what to say. As your eyes take a second look in the mirror, the reflection still looks flawless despite your emotions, the make-up looking nothing but pristine through the ugly tears. It almost feels like you’re looking at a stranger, suffocated by the weight of a thousands-something worth dress.

At last, Mia sighs before her face shifts to a serious, firm expression. “Have you really thought this through? Are you absolutely sure about this?”

If you’re being honest, rather than contemplating the actual idea of skipping the wedding, your thoughts had been consumed about the wedding itself instead. 

While the big day approached, your mind spiraled whenever you imagined the actual ceremony—the vows you were supposed to recite from the very bottom of your loving heart, the smiles you were supposed to wear for the family that’s seemingly welcoming you as their own, the excitement you were supposed to show for the new step of your life.

The more you dwelled on it, the more the scenario of walking down the aisle to Minhyuk felt like a march to a life you were not ready for, a perpetual role you weren’t ever escaping from given the circumstances. 

So, albeit in a sick and twisted way, you have thought about it.

With a miserable sniffle, you stare at your best-friend right back, steady enough for a final answer. “The only thing I’m sure of is that I can’t marry Minhyuk today.”

A glint of something determined flashes in her eyes, Mia looking more serious than you’ve ever seen her as she nods firmly. “What do you want to do? Whatever it is, I’ll back you up.”

As everything comes down to your answer, the words momentarily fail you. 

Will you really walk away from a perfect life? From the quiet wealth, the made-up fairy tale, the hushed expectations and duties that lie underneath both yours and Minhyuk’s family’s money?

The answer comes down to the very thought of walking down that aisle, making promises and vows you wouldn’t mean, just to fall into a trap that will consume your entire life.

You sweep the tears off your face, a final sigh escaping from your mouth. “I have to leave,” you say, gaze hardening in resolution after taking one last look at the reflection in the mirror. “Like, right now.”

A grin tugs at Mia’s mouth as if she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. “We probably have five minutes before someone comes up to check on us,” she starts, raising an eyebrow at you with a glint in her eyes. “Let’s do this, Julia Roberts.”

Astonished, you can only watch as your best-friend suddenly rushes around the suite, shoving your phone and whatever else into her small clutch before forcefully pushing it to your chest. 

Before stepping out of the room, Mia sneaks a glance outside through the half-open door, sighing in relief at the empty hallway. As she stealthily slips you from the suite, both of you tiptoeing against the marbled floor, you can’t help feeling your pulse speeding up at the tension. Making the way downstairs, the reception sounds only grow louder.

Luckily, the main entrance is far away enough to allow you to walk past undetected. Save from a few waiters here and there, Mia’s quick to walk you to an emergency exit near the kitchen, confusing you as to how she’s found the escape in the first place.

The red door feels daunting as you stand in front of it, both of you staring at each other with a mix of feelings that neither can fully describe. 

As you blink at her, feeling the tears burning at your eyes again, hesitation prickles at you. “You’re really not going to stop me?”

Quickly pulling you into a tight hug, Mia rolls her eyes affectionately. “You’re finally doing something for yourself, there’s no way I’m ever stopping you,” she mumbles, smiling wide before pulling back with a gentle squeeze. “I’m proud of you, even if you’re making me explain all of this to your mother.”

A sudden commotion of voices nearby makes her eyes widen. Before you can even say goodbye, Mia’s rushingly pushing you outside, hurriedly shoving the dress out behind your back. 

The fresh air hits you like a jolt of energy, your best-friend shooing you away with a knowing grin before you finally sprint across the venue’s garden. As your steps get faster, adrenaline flows through your veins, the tightness in your chest easing to a satisfying thrill. Despite your pounding heart, there’s no hesitation holding you back now.

For the first time in what feels like forever, your mind is blissfully carefree—no questions, no doubts, no voices reminding you of obligations and expectations.

It doesn’t take long until you reach the street, breathlessly climbing into the first cab that stops by. Under the driver’s curious eyes, you finally let yourself relax by sinking into the seat, giving the man an urgent, delighted glance. 

“Just drive, please.”

The cab only takes you as far as the driver’s willing to go for a crumpled bill. 

Since you’ve never visited Seoul enough times to actually know the city, you’re standing in a maze of alleyways and quiet streets, having ran off from the bustling stop the man had originally left you before. In a poor attempt to escape the prying eyes from onlookers, you’re now lost in a completely unknown neighborhood. 

The late afternoon sun is starting to settle, hues of orange painting the sky as you mindlessly walk through a quiet street, the once pristine dress trailing right behind you in a mess of wrinkles and stains. 

As the weight of your situation settles over the dimming excitement, you can’t help but feel naive. Acting upon a single, desperate decision that ultimately brought you to a foreign, unfamiliar place, you’ve no idea what to do now—why hadn’t Mia questioned you about plans anyways?

A seed of doubt threatens to grow in your mind, leaving you to wonder if you’ve done the right thing despite any consequences to your own heart. 

“Rough day?”

The sudden question startles you. 

Turning around just as a guy strolls into the alleyway, your breath hitches as his gaze locks with yours, amusement visibly flickering in his eyes. Though he doesn’t look intimidating, holding an arrangement of flowers in his hands with wired earbuds still tucked into his ears, your current predicament isn’t exactly ideal to rely on a random stranger.

Hesitating for a second, your voice comes out sharper than you intend. “Why do you care?”

The guy raises an eyebrow, holding his hands up with a careful shrug. “Just figured you don’t see a bride wandering around the neighborhood every day,” he says, curiosity laced to his laidback tone. “You look… lost. Do you need help or something?”

As your trembling hands gather the fabric of your dress, you just huff curtly. “I don’t.”

Determined to put as much distance between you and the stranger as possible, you turn around on your heels, ready to leave as the designer sandals suddenly catch the hem of the gown. Stumbling forward, you brace yourself for the fall before a hand grabs at your arm, easily holding you steady. 

The guy chuckles, his grip lingering for a second longer than necessary, the same amused eyes watching you. “Easy there, Julia Roberts.”

Embarrassment spreads through your face as you quickly regain balance, half-heartedly pulling away from his hold. “Not you, too,” you mutter exasperatedly, glaring at him while smoothing the fabric of your battered dress. “I’m fine, you can leave now.”

“You’re welcome,” he counters, the words sounding a touch ironic despite the lazy, yet gentle smile tugging at his mouth. “You might need directions if you want to get out of here.”

The alley’s already dimly lit, setting up for the evening that’s just starting to fall over Seoul. As you glance down the quiet, empty street again, realization presses you harder, almost as if to suffocate you just enough to force the harsh truth at the back of your subconscious. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have left.

Maybe you don’t know better than the life that’s been built for you. 

Maybe you should go back.

Momentarily lost in your anxious daze, you don’t notice as the stranger seems to catch onto something. Attentively taking in your sudden tension, he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches just slightly, an almost panicked, distant look settling in your eyes. 

“Hey,” he calls, taking a careful step closer, just enough to pull your attention back to him. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Jaehyun.”

As your eyes snap to his, a wary sigh escapes from your mouth before you finally offer your name, the next words effortlessly escaping as if a grand announcement. “I ran away from my wedding.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, barely holding back a smirk as he lets out a playful whistle. “I never would’ve guessed if you hadn’t told me.”

The little quip earns a laugh from you, his easygoing response immediately pulling you back from a frantic spiral in your head. Despite the absurdity of the situation—a runaway bride stranded in a deserted alleyway in Seoul—the guy’s casual attitude feels oddly comforting, enough to calm you down for the time being. 

He looks you over, pulling his earbuds off with raised, intrigued eyebrows. “So, you just… ran? Left the guy at the altar?”

“I left before the ceremony, actually,” you explain, pressing your lips in a thin line at his amused snort, a glimmer of something you can’t place in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure his family’s looking for me right now.”

Jaehyun pauses, his amusement slowly fading into thoughtfulness again. Considering your hesitation and visible stress, almost as if you’ve been bracing yourself for another sudden getaway, it all clicks into place in his mind. 

His expression shifts to something softer, though still somewhat humored. “You don’t want to be found.”

As your fingers instinctively twist into the delicate fabric of the dress, you exhale a half-hearted, heavy chuckle. “Not really.”

He just nods, adjusting the arrangement of flowers against his arm before tilting his head towards the empty alley. “I know a place you can hide for a bit before figuring out your next move,” Jaehyun starts, his tone light to not pressure you. “It’s just around the corner, if you want.”

A flickering neon sign welcomes you outside a little shop by the end of the narrow street, the words casting a soft glow in hues of green. Just under the lettering that reads 127 Records, you look up at him with raised eyebrows. Of all the places you imagined a stranger ultimately leading you to, this most definitely wasn’t on your mind.

“A records shop?” you ask, confusedly glancing through the glass window to find rows of vinyls in the small, trendy looking space. “Do you work here?”

Jaehyun moves closer, stepping beside you to unlock the door with a chuckle. “No, I’m the owner.”

As he pushes it open, the chime of a bell rings above you. The smell of wood with a touch of vanilla feels like a warm embrace as you step inside, cozy enough that you can’t help but feel immediately sheltered. Every inch of the walls are covered with posters and framed photos, leaving you to marvel at them as if you’ve just stepped inside a museum.

“You can sit wherever,” Jaehyun starts, gesturing to a worn leather couch by a corner with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Do you want something to drink? You look a little overwhelmed.”

Ignoring the offer in favor of wandering through the space, you glance back at him in surprise, fingers already brushing over the neat vinyl stacks. “This place is really cool.”

He chuckles, stepping closer to hand you a bottle of water. “Thanks,” Jaehyun answers, a smirk promptly tugging at his lips. “Not just saying that because I own the place, but I think so too.”

The words draw a smile from you, with an ease that doesn’t feel fitting for your current predicament. “Do you pick all of these by yourself?”

“Not all of it,” he explains, shaking his head as he takes a thoughtful look around. “Most of my friends work with music too, so I owe them half of this place.”

A beat of silence settles between you for a moment, the conversation falling into a strange but comfortable lull. Jaehyun drifts down one of the aisles, scanning the titles of a shelf before suddenly pulling out a record with a small hum of approval.

Meanwhile, you make yourself at home in the armchair at the back of the shop, the adrenaline of your escape finally wearing off. As you sink into the cushions, tugging the hem of your dress to unclasp the high-heeled sandals, a relieved sigh escapes from your lips for more reasons than just one.

Somehow, in a wild turn from mere hours ago—between fleeing your own wedding and getting lost in a strange city—you feel oddly safe now.

It shouldn’t feel so comfortable to watch Jaehyun slide the chosen vinyl out of its sleeve, carefully placing it on the spinning plate of a vintage turntable that’s sitting atop one of the shelves. The soft crackle of the machine echoes through the room before the first beats of a soulful, hip-hop track smoothly takes over. 

Taken by surprise, you can’t help a laugh at his unconventional choice.

Jaehyun immediately glances over his shoulder, a puzzled but curious look on his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” you counter, shaking your head as an amused smile tugs at your lips. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.”

The empty vinyl sleeve is still in his hands as he walks over to take a seat on the leather couch nearby, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You know Sweetback?”

You shake your head, offering an apologetic wince. “I don’t really know much about music at all.”

“That’s fair,” Jaehyun hums, fingers tapping idly against the empty sleeve as his gaze meets yours, curious but kind. “So, mind if I ask what’s your next move?”

As you sink deeper into the armchair, a self-conscious chuckle escapes before you can stop it. “I… didn’t really think that far ahead,” you admit, fiddling with a loose thread along the fabric of your dress. “If I had, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You know what they say,” he starts, lips curving into a knowing smile despite the somber, yet humorous touch to his voice. “Running away is easy. It’s the leaving that’s hard.”

You bite back a laugh, caught between confusion and disbelief. “Is that a song?”

He grimaces, chuckling under his breath with a nod. “Yeah, sorry,” Jaehyun mutters, clearing his throat with a hint of amusement still lingering on his face. “Anyway, you want to stay the night?”

The question takes you by surprise, your eyes widening at his words. “What?”

“Not like that,” he objects, palms raised in playful defense before his tone softens to a calmer, warm tone. “I’ve got a bed in the back. This place is quieter than whatever hotel you’d end up in, and… no offense, but you kinda look like you’re one step away from passing out.”

“Okay,” you exhale after a beat, nodding gratefully at him. “Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shaking his head with another easy half-smile again. “Let me lock up first then I’ll get you set up.”

Jaehyun pushes himself to his feet, stretching with a groan before reaching out for the set of keys on the counter. The overhead lighting follows him as he walks around the shop, clearly following a routine by the purposeful steps. It’s easy to get absorbed in the quiet, leisurely way he moves through the space, almost like it’s an extension of him. 

The sleeve of the record playing is still on the couch, your fingertips grazing the worn-out cover as you pick it up. “I like this album.”

He glances over his shoulder from the door, raising an eyebrow as he smiles knowingly. “Yeah?”

You hum, smiling at his excitement. “Yeah.”

As the gentle beats make company to the comfortable silence that settles between you, the night slowly closes in around the shop like an universe of its own.

The soft crackle of a record spinning outside slowly stirs you awake, sunlight drawing patterns on the wooden floor as it slips through a small window above. 

For a moment, the haze of exhaustion makes you forget where you are, somehow keeping your crystal-ridden memories from the day before distant. 

As you sit up with a glance around, the bed creaking with the movement, everything rushes right back in—escaping the wedding, meeting Jaehyun, accepting shelter at his shop. The room feels as cozy as the rest of the place, especially in the morning. Though improvised, there’s enough little details scattered around to evidence his presence in the space.

Still cladded in the clothes he’d given you, leaving your wedding dress forgotten in a heap of expensive fabric in the corner, you sheepishly pad out of the room to find Jaehyun in between the rows of vinyls much like last night.

It feels oddly comforting.

It feels easy in a way that it most definitely shouldn’t for someone who’s essentially running against time.

“Hey, you’re up!”

The sound of Jaehyun’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts as you refocus, offering him a small, apologetic smile. “Yeah. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

“It’s alright, you probably needed it,” he reassures, his voice low but warm, as if to ease you out of your hesitance. “I got some breakfast for you, by the way.”

Following the flick of his wrist, your gaze lands on the paper bag resting neatly beside a vase holding the flowers he was carrying the night before. “You didn’t have to,” you protest, half-heartedly glaring at him. “You’ve done more than enough for me, Jaehyun.”

As he shakes his head, the corners of his mouth tug into a little smile. “Don’t mention it. Like I said, it’s not everyday a runaway bride gets lost in the neighborhood.”

An amused chuckle erupts before you can stop it, a hint of fondness suddenly flashing through your face. “Mia made the same Julia Roberts reference yesterday.”

Jaehyun raises a curious eyebrow, leaning casually against one of the shelves. “A friend of yours?”

“My best-friend,” you amend, nodding as a small smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. I was the shy introverted kid and Mia was the chatty extrovert that ended up adopting me on the first day of class.”

He shrugs playfully, letting out a knowing chuckle. “Sounds like a balanced friendship to me.”

Almost as if you’re confessing a dirty secret, your cheeks suddenly heat up at the memories of the day before. “She was the one who helped me escape yesterday, actually.”

“Damn,” Jaehyun mutters, somehow looking both impressed and amused, the sharpness of his face now replaced with humour. “Good friend.”

You hold back a smile at his comic response, curiosity striking as you think of the aftermath of your quiet disappearance. “I should probably call her—”

Before you can finish the sentence, a sharp knock rattles the shop’s door. The sound startles you more than you’d like to admit, a flicker of unease rushing through your chest as you spot the unknown figure outside. Standing tall, the brown-haired guy waves at Jaehyun before muttering something, gesturing impatiently at the lock.

Jaehyun notes your tension, straightening from the shelf as he deliberately takes a few slow steps to the door. “That’s Doyoung,” he explains, the calm steadiness in his voice easing your apprehension. “He’s a close friend. I asked him to bring some of his girlfriend’s clothes for you.”

Doyoung promptly pushes the door open once it’s unlocked, a gust of fresh morning air slipping inside the shop just as smoothly. 

Everything about Jaehyun’s friend looks incredibly sharp—from his face’s features to the neat clothing and styled hair, you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious standing there in a borrowed Looney Tunes t-shirt.

“Hey,” Doyoung greets, stepping into the shop with a curious, disgruntled glance at his friend. “I brought what you asked for. Though, I’d like to know why I’m suddenly playing your delivery boy. Couldn’t you have asked Taeyong?”

Taking the plastic bag from his hands, Jaehyun winces humorously. “Well, Ivy’s style isn’t exactly… ordinary.”

Doyoung scoffs, suddenly looking half-heartedly affronted by the words. “Are you saying my girlfriend’s style is ordinary?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, letting out a teasing, long sigh. “Thank you for the clothes, Doyoung,” he quips, turning to you as he gestures to the brown-haired man. “Like I said, this is Doyoung. He’s one of the friends I told you about.”

You manage a polite nod through your hesitance, tentatively waving at him. “Nice to meet you, Doyoung.”

As he offers you a small but kind smile, Doyoung visibly softens despite the curiosity still lingering to his features. “You too,” he replies simply, a sharp eyebrow raising at his friend’s direction soon after. “You didn’t answer my texts, Jaehyun.”

“I was… busy,” he answers, giving his friend a long look turning to you with an apologetic grimace, awkwardly rubbing at his neck. “Why don’t you get some breakfast? We’ll be back in a minute.”

It takes you a second to realize that Jaehyun probably needs a moment to explain how he’d ended up with a runaway bride at his shop. As you retreat to the counter where the paper bag sits, pretending to busy yourself with the coffee and pastries inside, Doyoung suddenly calls out your name.

At the door, he watches you in a way that makes him look softer, the sharpness of his face now feeling oddly reassuring. “It was nice to meet you,” Doyoung says, the corners of his mouth curling into a gentle smile. “You’ll be alright, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, smiling despite your astonishment at the man’s sudden warmth. “Thank you.”

Once outside, unbeknown to you, Doyoung glares exasperatedly at his friend. 

It had been well past midnight when Jaehyun’s text lit up his phone the night before—a touch ominous and more than a little baffling as he’d suddenly asked if Miyu had some clothes she could borrow. No explanation and zero context, which ultimately led Doyoung to march to his friend’s shop in order to search for answers after a string of ignored texts.

Now, Doyoung feels like he somehow knows even less than before.

“You know,” he starts, his tone dry as ever as he raises a peeved eyebrow at his friend. “When you text me in the middle of the night asking for women’s clothes, I’d expect at least some kind of explanation.”

Taking a seat on the steps by the shop’s entrance, Jaehyun shrugs casually, unbothered by his friend’s stress. “You’ve got one now.”

Attempting to draw a proper answer out of him, Doyoung narrows his eyes with a sharp glare. “I most definitely don’t.”

The silence stretches for a moment before a flippant sigh escapes from Jaehyun’s mouth. “She ran away from her wedding and—”

“Wait a minute,” he interrupts, throwing a hand up as he leans forward, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “What did you say?”

“I was coming back to the shop last night when I found her a few streets over,” Jaehyun explains, scratching absently at the back of his neck. “Still in her dress. Said she ditched the wedding. Left the guy at the altar.”

Doyoung blinks once.

Twice.

He exhales, ultimately choosing to accept the absurdity of the situation. “She looks a little familiar. Do you know the groom?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, leaning back on his palms with a tight-lipped smile. “Didn’t ask. It didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Doyoung retorts, side-eyeing his friend through his infuriating ease. “So what’s the plan? You do know that she can’t just keep hiding here forever, right?”

“No plans yet,” he answers, his face softening as he glances over his shoulder for a second. “I think she was about to call one of her friends when you came in, though.”

As he finally rises to his feet, Doyoung scoffs in both disbelief and confusion. “I don’t think I want to know any more,” he mutters, looking back at the youngest with a pointed warning. “Promise me you’ll call if you need something.”

Jaehyun salutes lazily from his spot on the steps, a grin tugging at his lips. “Sure thing, Mom.”

Offering an exaggerated eye-roll, Doyoung soon strides off with a dismissive wave over his shoulder. Watching his friend go with an amused huff, Jaehyun barely misses the shop’s door promptly swinging open only before your voice calls out for his name.

As you step out with firm steps, there’s a touch of determination to your voice. 

“I think I know what I want to do now.”

Outside the bus window, Seoul is a blur of sharp high-rises, worn-out colorful signs and masses of busy people. 

As you watch the unfamiliar scenery with rapid attention, resting your chin against your palm with your breath fogging the glass, the city unfolds under the warm sun like a secret mission waiting to be completed. By your side, Jaehyun sits with an arm draped over the seat, the reflection against the window catching his glances every now and then.

“Excited?”

Looking back to find his curious eyes, a smile curls your lips as you sigh quietly. “I’ve been here so many times, it feels a little strange seeing everything like this.”

Jaehyun hums, raising an intrigued eyebrow. “So you’ve been to Seoul before.”

“Yeah, for Minhyuk’s family things,” you explain, careful to approach the background of your escape with a humorless laugh. “It was all about business events and corporate banquets. Between all the hotel rooms and fancy restaurants, I’ve never stayed long enough to see anything here.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” he jokes, light and playful as he wiggles an eyebrow at you. “You’ve got the best tour guide in the city.”

As you side-eye him with pretend skepticism, a grin widens across your face. “The best?”

Leaning back against the seat with mock confidence, Jaehyun returns the smile with his dimples on display. “The best.”

Gyeongbokgung Palace is as imposing as the city’s mountains and skyscrapers.

Surrounded by the buzz of tourists and locals alike, it takes a second for you to ground yourself between camera flashes, every little piece of ornate detail and the come-and-go of delicate skirts all over the place. Always close behind, Jaehyun lets you explore every courtyard, every open door, every quiet path around, occasionally dropping little tales about the place.

After what feels hours later, you sit beside him by the palace’s pound, curiosity gently pulling at your strings. “Have you been here before?”

He nods, elbows resting against his knees as his eyes glance around the garden for a moment. “Yeah, it’s a popular school trip spot,” Jaehyun answers, huffing out a quiet laugh. “It’s been a long time, though.”

You can’t help the smile, teasing him by bumping your knees together. “That’s cute.”

By early afternoon, you’re both weaving through the narrow streets surrounding the palace, lined with a contrast of modern and traditional houses and little stores. It gets busier before it eventually quiets, the neighborhood’s village falling to a soft lull the further you explore. 

Gwangjang Market is as chaotic as it can be.

The place is warm, the air thick with sizzling oil, batter, sugar and spices. 

It’s loud and lively and overwhelming all at the same time.

At one of the popular stalls, Jaehyun watches you take a bite of your second hotteok. “So,” he starts, a touch casual but still careful. “Yesterday, you said something about leaving a wedding.”

As your body freezes, you pause between midway through another bite. “Yeah.”

Noting your reaction, his eyes immediately soften. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

It takes a second for you to exhale, pushing past your hesitation with a headshake. “It wasn’t an impulsive choice,” you start, unsure of what to say first. “I mean—it was, but I just… I thought about it for months. I thought about the wedding, all the expectations that would come with it. Everything about our families is… complicated and messy and—”

The words suddenly die in your mouth. 

A sigh escapes from your lips with the pause, leaving you to shrug wearily.

Though it sounds more like an affirmation than a question, Jaehyun holds a curious gaze. “You don’t love him.”

“I think we both want different things from each other,” you admit, letting out a half-hearted, tired chuckle. “I don’t think I want to be what Minhyuk wants. I can’t be what he wants. I also don’t think he’s what I want so… I left.”

He nods quietly as his lips curl with an impressed smile. “That’s brave.”

You groan, shaking your head with an eye-roll in his direction. “That’s insane.”

“Walking away from something that’s wrong for you takes guts,” Jaehyun insists, a touch of warmth and reassurance laced to his voice. “A lot of people would’ve stayed, you know.”

Your eyes linger on him for longer than you mean to, almost searching for any shadow of doubt on his face. “You think so?”

As he gives you a knowing look, the implication of his words aren’t lost on you. “You’d know it better than I do.”

Despite aching feet, both of you brave through the last stretch of the day, making through the familiar maze of narrow, dim-lit streets to the last destination of Jaehyun’s tour.

Seoul looks endless from the Namsan Tower.

Just like the day before, the afternoon slowly blends with the impending dusk, shifting the shades of a bright sunset to a muted, chilly evening by the time both of you finally reach the top. Under your watch, the city slowly lights up like a Christmas tree, small and distant enough to feel peaceful.

“Don’t you think it’s crazy that we exist in a place this big?” you say, fingers curling around the railing decorated with countless lockers. “Everything about my life seems so silly in perspective.”

He frowns, seemingly at loss for a moment. “Just because it’s small compared to everything else doesn’t mean it’s meaningless.”

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow with a teasing glint in your eyes. “You always sound like you’ve thought about this before. Are you quoting another song?”

The shift on his face is instant, features softening with amusement. “This one’s an original creation,” he retorts, pausing for a moment as he looks ahead. “Living in Seoul makes you feel unstoppable and ordinary at the same time. It’s definitely… humbling.”

“Are you speaking from your experience?”

He tilts his head, studying you with a thoughtful look. “Aren’t we all?”

“Well, I don’t know if I feel unstoppable right now,” you counter, letting out a half-hearted laugh that turns into a sigh. “I do feel a little ordinary in the big picture, though.”

As he shoves his hands into his jacket’s pockets, Jaehyun hums quietly. “You chose to walk away. That’s the farthest thing from ordinary.”

You hesitate, pausing for a second until your murmur pushes through. “Even if I disappointed everyone?”

“That’s just what moving forward looks like sometimes,” he says, offering a nonchalant shrug despite the weight of his words. “Can’t get far if you’re carrying everyone’s expectations over your own.”

A small smile immediately tugs at your lips, his casualness somehow already feeling familiar and humorous. “Now that must be a song!” you tease, shooting him an accusatory look. “Are you sure you’re just the owner of a record shop?”

He freezes for a second, hesitating with pretend apprehension as someone who’s just got caught redhanded. “I like… reading.”

The deadpan answer bursts you into laughter, a flicker of satisfaction instantly crossing Jaehyun’s face at your reaction, his chuckle quieter but no less genuine. The silence feels easier after the laughter fades, almost as if it had softened the edges of the evening. It feels easy to share the quiet with him by now, no longer heavy with the weight of unsaid words.

As the Tower glows above you, Seoul glitters underneath.

As your company hums a familiar song by your side, the world lets you just be.

It takes a glimpse for you to gently break the reverie, earning a smile from Jaehyun with the innocent sincerity of your request. 

“Can we buy a locker?”

Just like the night before, the neon sign of 127 Records is easy to spot. 

Jaehyun insists that your last tourist attraction should be the nearest convenience store. 

The chilly evening eventually warms as both of you share a bottle of grape-flavored soju, sitting together on the shop’s steps as the tour comes to an end. Inside, yet another one of his R&B records is playing, just loud enough to drift through the open door.

By now, the neighborhood has already grown quiet save from a few occasional passers, barely sparing you a glance as they walk away. For the first time today, there’s no rush of speeding cars, no overwhelming crowds, no unknown to discover—just you and Jaehyun, the soft hum of music in the background and a gentle buzz of comfort in your body.

“You really weren’t lying,” you mutter, swallowing the last sip of your shot as you squint at the label on the bottle. “This tastes dangerously like juice.”

Jaehyun raises a playful eyebrow before clicking his cup against yours. “That’s how they get you.”

You frown suspiciously at him, pursing your lips to hold back a smile. “Are you speaking from experience again?”

“I’m pretty good at drinking,” he protests, a grin on his face as he tips his cup back lazily. “I’ve got two lightweight friends, though. All it takes is one bottle.”

“That sounds like a lovely morning hungover,” you quip, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and doubt. “You don’t seem like the type who’d drink much.” 

“I don’t,” Jaehyun admits, gaze lifting to the flickering light across the street. “Some nights… a little noise in your head might help quiet everything else.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, carried by the soft hum of the record still spinning inside. As you trace a finger along the rim of the little cup, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable to let the music speak in the silence instead. 

It’s been a long time since it has just embraced you like this. 

Most of your life has been led by formal regards, polite conversation, constant presence.

Cheeks to kiss, hands to shake, names to remember. 

Silence meant invisibility, irrelevance, forgetfulness.

Today, it means the exact opposite—thoughtfulness, recognition, reassurance.

You watch him mutter the song’s lyrics quietly for a second longer before giving in to your curiosity again. “Did you ever think of leaving Seoul?”

Jaehyun nods, leaning back against the step with one arm propped behind him. “I lived in America for a while when I was a kid,” he admits, amused at the flicker of surprise on your face. “I’ve thought about going back a few times.”

You hum softly, resting your elbows on your knees. “What’s stopping you?”

A half-hearted smile tugs at his mouth as Jaehyun shrugs. “My friends.”

“That’s more than enough,” you mumble, nodding solemnly before a soft chuckle escapes. “Doyoung seemed really worried about you.”

“He’s worried about everything,” he jokes, shaking his head with a snort. “That’s his default setting.”

That’s all it takes for Jaehyun to launch himself in a spiel about his friends. As Mia lingers in the back of your mind, it’s easy for you to imagine them with the little details, something warm blooming in your chest the more you hear about Taeyong’s group-chat spams and unsolicited gym photos, Yuta’s rising rock band and Johnny’s remarkable skills in everything.

There’s a touch of fondness in his voice that feels almost tangible, enough to have you attentively hanging onto his every word.

Neither of you notice the approaching sound of soft, coy little steps until it’s too late.

The grey cat slowly crosses the street, its tail flicking lazily behind as it makes a beeline straight to Jaehyun, approaching the shop with exigent meows as it owned the place. 

As he leans forward, a surprised smile tugs at his lips. “Look who’s here,” Jaehyun calls, reaching a careful hand towards the cat, voice promptly softening. “What’s up, Misty? Where have you been?”

Misty meows in response, happily welcoming Jaehyun’s gentle scratches before deliberately turning her attention to you, green eyes gleaming like she’s assessing your presence for a second.

Holding out your hand for her evaluation, you smile fondly as she leans her head into your touch. “Hi, Misty,” you coo, reaching for her ears as you glance curiously at him. “Is she yours?”

“Not really,” he answers, not making any move to stop the cat when she hops into his lap, instead offering a few pats to her butt as she climbs his legs. “She just shows up whenever she feels like it. I think she lives a few streets down, though.”

You watch the cat curl comfortably against his leg, purring like a well-oiled engine. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun murmurs, stroking Misty’s fur absentmindedly. “She always shows up when it gets late. Guess she likes the music.”

Until the record eventually stops spinning on the turntable, both of you enjoy Misty’s company, playing with the cat as it grows mischievous with Jaehyun’s playful teasing. Already well past the early hours of the evening, the streetlights are still flickering above the shop, humming quietly. 

The soju’s gentle buzz no longer serves as an excuse to escape your own thoughts, and as Misty stretches, her tail brushing your wrist before sitting between you and Jaehyun, you know that the decision’s always been there too.

Even when you didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

As you fish the set of keys from your jacket, the silver glint catches Jaehyun’s eyes. A flash of something you can’t quite read crosses his face when you extend a hand, offering them to him.

He blinks after a beat, looking both confused and surprised. “You can keep it.”

The words stumble past your lips with a touch of sheepish hesitation. “I think I still want to keep a part of me here,” you say, warmth spreading across your cheeks as you try a reassuring nod. “I trust you to take care of it while I’m not around.”

The shift in Jaehyun’s eyes immediately lets you know that he hears the unspoken. 

A wry smile curls his lips as he finally closes his fingers around the keys, catching your eyes with a long glance. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“Yeah,” you answer, meeting his gaze with a small nod. “I do.”

The city’s still thriving despite the late hour, the nearby streets slowly growing busier as you slowly navigate out of the neighborhood in search of a taxi. After accompanying you for a block or two, Misty eventually leaves you and Jaehyun to face the night alone to coyly follow her own way back home. 

In the backseat of the car, he sits beside you for a second time. Now, Seoul looks just like it did with Minhyuk—a familiar rushing blur in the dark, unreachable and impersonal. 

As you watch the fractured pieces through the window, Jaehyun keeps the silence weightless, occasionally entertaining the driver’s small talk. Though you don’t notice, he catches himself glancing at your reflection every now and then, each time showing you less lost and unsure than the one before. 

When the taxi finally stops in front of the imposing hotel, everything’s quiet except for the rustle of the trees lining up the entrance. 

You stand with Jaehyun at the closed glass doors, glancing at the empty lobby for a second. “This is it,” you start, a touch of humor laced to your voice. “My family’s probably inside losing their minds.”

Jaehyun raises a playful eyebrow, easing the conversation by teasing you. “You sure you’re ready?”

Despite the nerves buzzing through your body, a soft laugh escapes from your lips. “No. I think that’s the point, though.”

A smile curls on his lips, enough to slowly reach his eyes as he nods. “You’ll be fine.”

As you pause, heart rushing over everything that should be said, simplicity suddenly feels fitting for the moment. “I know,” you say, eyes softening the longer you look at him. “Thank you so much, Jaehyun. I just… I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” 

He shakes his head with a huff of laughter, a shadow of red just barely covering his face. “Probably better than this.”

“Nothing’s better than trusting myself,” you protest, smiling knowingly at him. “I know that now.”

The smile on his face widens into something that feels too good to be true.

All it takes is a pause for you to push through the hesitation—before Jaehyun can process it, you step closer and press a light kiss to his lips, letting it linger just long enough for him to forget anything you’ve left unsaid. The touch of his hands on your face makes you snap out of it in a flash, breathlessly pulling away despite the firmness of his hold. 

For a second, you could almost swear Jaehyun looked hopeless, eyes glinting bittersweet.

For the first time, you let yourself think of a future.

As you exhale a breath, the future only gets clearer in your mind. “I’ll see you around, Jaehyun.”

He swallows as if something’s caught in his throat, stepping back with closed fists inside the pockets of his hoodie. “Yeah,” Jaehyun answers, nodding with a half-hearted smile. “Take care, Julia Roberts.”

Outside, he watches as you walk into the lobby, giving him one last look over your shoulder before disappearing down the corridors.

Now, as he sits across from you outside the exact damn café, watching as you scroll through your tablet completely absorbed in whatever you’re reading, Mark wonders if you’re really that much oblivious or just… don’t really see him like that. 

Which, by the way, would be one hell of a blow to his morale.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

The sudden question takes him by surprise, leaving him to realize that maybe he was staring at you a little too hard again. Mark blinks, quickly trying to gather his thoughts as he scrambles for an answer.

“Nothing,” he starts, clearing his throat before awkwardly gesturing towards his ears. “It’s just your earrings. They’re really cool.”

“Oh,” you say, touching the moon shaped jewelry as if you’d forgotten you’re wearing them. “Thanks. It was a gift from a friend.”

As your attention quickly returns to the tablet again, Mark fights the urge to bang his head against the table because… a gift from a friend? Also, your earrings are cool? Is that really the best he can do? After months spent crushing on you like an oblivious idiot, Mark would at least expect to sound less like a malfunctioning robot at this point. 

“You’ve been staring at that thing for like, twenty minutes,” Mark tries again, leaning forward just enough so his gaze meets yours. “What are you reading?”

You offer him a playful eye-roll. “An essay for my next class.”

He hums, perking up at your answer with genuine interest. “What’s it about?”

Setting your tablet down, you regard him with curious eyes, something Mark can’t quite read flashing across on your face. “You really want to know?”

“Sure,” he replies, trying to keep it cool despite the anticipation building in his chest, his pulse kicking up under your unusually attentive stare. “Try me.”

You tilt your head, studying him for a beat longer as if you’re debating whether or not he can keep up, pursing your lips to hold back a smile. “It’s about how Absolutism helped shape the hierarchical political structures of the Illuminist era.”

Mark pauses for a moment before nodding solemnly. “Right.”

As you shake your head, a laugh escapes from your lips, light and a touch teasing. “You have no idea what that means, do you?”

Mark rubs the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably in his seat with a sheepish smile, feeling his ears burn. “Sorry.” 

Looking nothing but intrigued, your amusement only seems to grow as you raise an eyebrow at him. “Then why would you ask?”

“I know you like talking about it,” he confesses with a shrug, hesitating for a second before chuckling softly, figuring he might just tell the truth. “And I… I actually kinda like hearing you talk.”

Out of all the desperate tactics Mark has unsuccessfully tried on you so far—a long list that can be provided by Haechan—this is probably the first time he’s managed to render you speechless. Visibly caught off-guard by his words, Mark watches as your fingers tighten around the tablet resting on your lap, lips parting as if you’re about to say something he wants to hear… until you don’t.

Instead, you just glance away, giving him an almost aloof smile. “It’s not really that deep, Mark,” you answer finally, voice light but alarmingly disinterested to his ears. “I’m here if you ever need history lessons, though.” 

Mark stares at you, dumbfounded for the millionth time, as you return to your essay clearly not sensing the weight of what he’d just said. That familiar sense of frustration settles in again, a nagging voice that sounds remarkably like Haechan echoing in the back of his head that maybe he’s just not really cut out for you.

Is he really that bad at this? Is he too obvious or not obvious enough? How is it that no matter what he does, you just don’t seem to catch on?

His overthinking brain provides him only two possibilities:

1) You’re really, truly, completely oblivious to his efforts. 2) You’re purposefully deflective, and he’s been playing the asshole the entire time.

As he forces a casual grin onto his face, Mark lets out a breath, trying to play off the defeat. “I guess I’ll take you up on that someday.”

A smirk curls on your lips as you hum, barely glancing up at him. “No, you won’t.”

“Wow,” he exclaims, slumping back into his seat with a deep, playful sigh. “No faith in me at all?”

You finally look at him, raising a taunting eyebrow. “I mean, didn’t you and Hyuck give up on that elective we shared last semester because there were too many history books on the syllabus?”

Mark opens his mouth to argue, but as you give him a pointed look, his shoulders drop in mock defeat. “Alright, that’s… not completely true,” he explains, holding up a hand as if to defend himself. “Maybe for Haechan, but I didn’t mind the books. I actually read some of them later.”

As you set your chin against your palm, focus now completely locked on him, there’s a hint of amusement laced to your voice. “So you just left me alone on purpose?” 

Mark blinks.

His brain freezes for a second, his thoughts slowing to a sluggish crawl as he processes what you’d just said.

Wait… what?

Does that… mean what he thinks it means?

A groan escapes from Mark’s lips before he can stop it, the weight of realization hitting him like a brick to the chest because God, Haechan might actually be right and Mark might actually be the dumbest guy on campus.

If only he could defend himself by telling the truth—that he’d wanted to stick around, no matter how much he sucked at interpreting historical events. That the way Mark had been convinced into the class had nothing to do with Haechan, but everything to do with you. That the only real reason he dropped out was because Spider-Man—and petty neighborhood villains—had other plans for his schedule.

Unfortunately, there’s no way to explain all of that without the risk of sounding absolutely insane. 

So, instead, Mark just shrugs, pushing through with a quiet chuckle.

“Actually, I just thought the professor didn’t seem to like me all that much,” he lies smoothly, swallowing back his frustration. “I figured I’d cut my losses before he could bomb my GPA. If I knew you wanted me—”

“That’s ridiculous,” you cut in with a playful scoff, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “Everybody likes you, Mark.”

As his brain short-circuits for the nth time of the day, replaying the words like a broken record for a few seconds, a familiar warmth spreads through Mark’s neck. 

Everybody likes him?

Nevermind symbiotes, crime lords and deranged, unstable scientists—this is the kind of thing that can actually make a guy lose his mind.

He clicks his tongue, trying his best to play it cool with a smirk curling his mouth. “I don’t know about that,” Mark starts, alarms blaring in his head despite the casual tone of his words. “Does that include you?”

You smile at him, opening your mouth to reply and—

The loud ringtone of your phone suddenly cuts the moment, blaring inside your bag as you frown, instinctively reaching for it. Mark watches as you glance at the screen, a hint of surprise flashing through your features for a second before you swipe to answer. He barely catches the muffled voice on the other end, but whatever it is that you’re hearing, visibly draws a reaction out of you. 

Abruptly guarded, your posture looks stiff as you sigh into the phone for one last time. “I got it. I’ll be right there.” 

Barely waiting for a response, you quickly hang up before stuffing the phone back into your bag again. There’s something sharp, a little urgent in the way you move when gathering your things.

Mark frowns, concerned eyes taking in the tension in features. “Everything okay?”

In a way that feels a little too rehearsed, you offer a short nod, looking up at him apologetically. “Yeah, just… something came up,” you answer, giving a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I have to go.”

He nods, gaze locked onto yours. “Do you need someone to walk you home?”

“No!” you say sharply, blinking at him before forcing a chuckle, waving him off as you adjust your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Mark. Just tell Hyuckie I’m sorry, okay?”

He’d forgotten you were both waiting for Haechan in the first place. 

As you step past him, your hand lightly brushes his back, enough for his shoulders to tense at the unexpected touch. Just like that, Mark watches as you rush towards the main building, glancing over your shoulder for a quick second to wave him goodbye. 

It takes a full five seconds before he exhales, dropping his head into his hands with a groan.

Though the peace doesn’t last for long.

“My God, that was painful to watch.” 

As he smoothly slides into the now-empty seat, a blinding grin curls Haechan’s lips from ear to ear, his eyes practically sparkling with mischief. Much to Mark’s despair, his best-friend looks nothing but ready to engage in his favorite daily activity—poke fun at his completely failed, absurd love life.

Mark shakes his head, looking away with a grimace. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The youngest raises an eyebrow, leaning forward with his elbows against the table. “Your earrings are really cool?” Haechan repeats, caught between amusement and exasperation as he scoffs. “I like hearing you talk?” 

A wave of dread washes over Mark’s spine. “Did you hear all that?”

Placing a dramatic hand over his heart, Haechan nods slowly. “Yes, Mark. I was listening, because you’re my best-friend and I care about your tragic, one-sided love story.”

“I was just trying to start a conversation,” he argues, dragging a hand down his face with a frustrated groan. “It wasn’t that bad… was it?”

As if deep in thought, his best-friend hums. “I think you can do better,” Haechan says solemnly, bursting into a laugh a second later. “I swear there was smoke coming out of your ears when she said everybody likes you.”

Mark forces a laugh, a mix of sarcasm and annoyance. “You’re so funny.”

“Listen, Milk,” Haechan starts, the nickname earning an eye-roll as his tone shifts into something more serious, though still laced with amusement. “I’ve told you—you should just ask her out. What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

“It’s not that simple with her,” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck with a shrug. “I don’t think she sees me like that, you know.”

The youngest scoffs, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. “You really need to stop being a chronic overthinker.”

“Thanks for the support,” Mark says, shooting him a flat, ironic look. “I really appreciate it.”

Haechan grins, unfazed by the bite behind his best-friend’s glare. “Hey, if it makes you feel better, I can give you two options. Either you move on like a lovesick loser,” he pauses, raising a taunting eyebrow at the shift on Mark’s face. “Or you step up your game and make her see you differently.”

Mark exhales a cryptic laugh, shaking his head. “And how do you suggest I should do that?”

The grin on his face widens as Haechan leans back in his chair, arms crossed like a mastermind plotting his next move. “Do what you do best.”

“Why are you always so difficult?” he sighs impatiently, eyebrows furrowing in half-hearted annoyance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everybody likes you, Mark,” his best-friend repeats, now as if he’s revealing a grand secret. “You’ve got this whole golden-boy thing going for you. Top of the class, the frat guys know you, and at least half of the girls in our major have had a crush on you at some point.”

A flicker of disbelief crosses Mark’s face, huffing a laugh at the words. “Yeah? Name one.”

Giving him a deadpan look, a scoff escapes from Haechan’s mouth. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters, frowning in pretend offense. “Emma from biochem? The barista that always gives you extra shots for free? Literally all the girls who were ready to fight me just to be your lab partner last semester?”

A pin suddenly drops in his head, leaving Mark to blankly stare at his friend for a second.

Emma from biochem hated everyone except the high-achieving, textbook-perfect students. 

Maybe the barista just remembered his sleep-deprived day order, rather than the regular one.

Choosing a lab partner should be strategic, especially when the grade percentage was so high.

Right?

As Mark slouches deeper into his seat, another frustrated groan leaving his mouth, Haechan only watches the spiral with a hint of playful sympathy on his face. 

“You know, being your friend makes me realize that God truly is fair,” the youngest teases, his characteristic grin growing again. “Sure, you might have the brains, the looks and the superpowers, but you sure can be an idiot sometimes.”

“Thanks,” Mark snarks, narrowing his eyes at his friend. “Being your friend makes me realize I actually need new friends.”

“Yeah, you don’t really mean that,” Haechan snorts, waving the words off with an exaggerated eye-roll. “Anyways, are you finally making moves or what?”

Mark drags a hand through his hair, hesitance visible in his eyes. “I don’t know,” he answers, pausing for a beat before sighing quietly, the words then coming out a bit firmer. “Maybe… maybe I should keep trying.”

“Yes!” his friend hollers, pumping a fist in the air, drawing a few curious eyes. “That’s how you get the girl, Milk!”

Yeah.

Mark isn’t so sure about that anymore.

After lurking in the shadows of New York City for a year as a vigilante, you still aren’t sure if that was the best or worst decision of your life.

It can be the best, sure, given you’ve always aimed to do something meaningful, purposeful with your abilities. It can also be the worst, especially when you’re fighting sleepless nights during morning lectures, covering bruises with make-up on a daily basis and fighting winces from aching bones after taking down criminals that just couldn’t take one damn night off.

Like tonight.

For once, you just want one damn night off.

A sigh escapes from your lips as you survey the first scene of the night. 

Perched on the edge of a rooftop nearby, watching a group of masked, oblivious men clumsily attempt to break into a jewelry store, you can’t help hoping for an easy night of petty, stupid robbers like this—

“Wow, you’re real.”

The voice cuts the silence so suddenly that you nearly lose balance, gloved fingers tightening around the steel railing of the building. As instincts take over, you’re quick to whip around into action, ready to charge against whoever it is until you come face-to-face with… a blur of blue and red hanging upside down from a web.

Staring at each other for a moment, you aren’t sure what to focus on first—the city’s most beloved superhero, the Spider-Man, right in front of you or the way he’s just casually acknowledged your existence for whatever reason. 

The silence stretches for a beat until he tilts his head, confusion written all over him despite the mask. “Are you okay?”

As you force yourself to recover, a huff leaves your mouth. “You’re Spider-Man.”

“Yeah,” he answers, the tone warm enough to hint a smile. “You’re Moonlight.”

Despite the fast-paced beats against your chest, you raise an eyebrow at him, trying to mask any traces of surprise off your voice. “You know me,” you start, offering an amused huff. “Should I be worried that an Avenger knows me?”

He chuckles, the sound coming off so boyish that it almost feels uncharacteristic. “I wouldn’t say worried,” Spider-Man says, somehow managing a shrug still in the air. “Maybe impressed is more like it.”

You blink, holding back a smile at his casual tone. “Why?”

Suddenly flipping his body upright in a ridiculously cool motion, he lands on the ledge across from you as if long practiced. “We’ve actually heard a lot from you. Didn’t you take down two weapons dealers last month? Also that one rogue symbiote down in Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Three,” you correct him, now not resisting a smile at his little confused hum. “Three weapons dealers. The last one wasn’t in New York.”

A gasp escapes from Spider-Man’s mouth, his shock visible even through the mask. “Damn, that was you?”

Amused, you ignore his reaction and gesture towards the chaotic commotion across the street, the thieves now pacing around inside the store. “Are you here to handle whatever that is?”

As if suddenly remembering the reason why he was swinging through Queens in the first place, Spider-Man subtly straightens his posture. “Yeah, I was going to,” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. “I just saw you and got curious.”

You raise an eyebrow, smile widening at his words. “You’re curious about me?”

He scratches his head, awkwardly clearing his throat before offering a quiet chuckle. “It’s just… I’ve really heard a lot about you,” Spider-Man starts, shrugging almost sheepishly. “You’re, like, super mysterious. It’s a little intimidating, actually.”

This definitely isn’t how you’ve imagined your first encounter with Spider-Man.

As the city’s staple superhero, you'd be lying if you said meeting him in person wasn’t something you’d secretly hoped for since joining this business. After all, every New Yorker is obsessed with him—whether through love or hate, admiration or skepticism. He’s been everywhere for years, long enough for his image to slowly become one with the city itself.

For you, shadows are your best-friends and avoiding attention is your modus operandi. 

Which explains why you’d never normally run into each other. 

At least, that’s what you thought until now.

Meeting Spider-Man—and accidentally discovering that not only he knows you but also somehow manages to completely throw you off with his awkward, endearing charm—wasn’t on your plans for the night. 

You weren’t sure what to expect of him, but it certainly wasn’t whatever this is. 

A smirk tugs at your lips as you tilt your head at him. “You’re admitting to keeping tabs on me and I’m the intimidating one?”

As he stiffens, Spider-Man promptly raises both hands defensively. “Not in a bad way, though,” he explains, rushing through the words with an apologetic tone. “It’s more like a cooler-than-me kind of way.”

Though completely entertained by his embarrassment, you decide to save him from spiraling further, interrupting him with a chuckle. “Hey, we should probably deal with these guys, right?”

He nods a little too eagerly, the answer slipping from his mouth without a second thought. “Crime-fighting first, rooftop flirting later.”

A flicker of surprise flashes across your face, a grin growing on your lips again. “You were flirting with me?”

The moment the words register, Spider-Man freezes, one hand already in the air ready to shoot webs across the building. “No? Yes? Maybe?”

As you ignore his flustered state, pursing your lips to hold back the lingering grin, you catch him muttering curses under his breath, the frown on his face visible even under the mask.

Cute.

Who’d have thought Spider-Man was this cute?

Shaking your head at the thought—because now is not the time and this is definitely your first and last meeting the guy—you turn your gaze back toward the chaos unfolding across the street, focusing on your job instead. The thieves are still wrecking the store, now tossing duffel bags to each other as they argue over the remaining pieces inside the broken displays.

Adjusting your stance by the edge of the rooftop, you raise a challenging eyebrow at him. “Ready?”

Beside you, Spider-Man clears his throat for one last time, shaking off the awkwardness as an alert, sharper posture quickly takes over. “I’ll take the back exit,” he says, a hint of tension now lacing his warm tone. “You okay with the front?”

You nod, already on your feet and poised to jump. “Try to keep up, Spidey.”

A rush of adrenaline takes over your chest as a blast of energy launches you into the air, shadows curling around your boots like a silent push. 

It takes a second for Spider-Man to catch up, soon enough swinging over you in a dramatic flip, offering you a laugh mid-air. “Hey, you got a head start! That’s cheating!”

You bite back a laugh, looking up at him. “I’ll give you a handicap next time.”

As you silently land at the store’s front entrance, the chaos inside is almost disorienting—broken glass crunching under heavy boots, jewels glinting under blinding fluorescent lights, muffled voices arguing over one another.

The shadows cloak your figure like instinct as you wait for the right moment to strike, pressing your back to the wall just beside the shattered glass door. A thief moves closer, still mid-argument with a second one as he waves a flashlight outside, visibly suspicious of something. 

It’s not enough for him to see you coming. 

The man crashes to the floor with a thud as you hook your leg around his ankle, head hitting the ground hard enough to knock him out cold. The commotion inside swallows the sound, leaving you to move quickly before the others notice your presence.

Inside, you watch Spider-Man land on a broken display with his signature pose, shooting a web around the nearest guy’s ankles before yanking him off his feet like a rag doll.

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm of work like you’ve done this a hundred times before. As he moves intently through the place with a touch of mischief to his movements, webs flying around everywhere, you contrast him with effortless silence, weaving through the chaos with ghostlike precision, shadows following right behind. 

In no time, all that’s left around you are unconscious bodies, shattered glass and scattered jewels, the sound of sirens drawing closer by the second. 

“You’re having company soon,” you start, taking a quick glance outside for the blue and red lights. “I should probably go before they arrive.” 

As his posture falters for a second, Spider-Man tilts his head in confusion. “What? You’re not staying?”

“I don’t really do the whole news interview and police statement thing,” you reply, offering him a knowing look as you shrug. “You’re really good at it, though.”

“Right,” he says, a subtle touch of curiosity lacing his voice. “Will I see you again?”

“Probably not,” you answer, already walking towards the back exit with a half-hearted smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve got an entire city to take care of. I’m just your local vigilante, remember?”

The sirens get louder, signaling the police approaching in a flash of blurry lights. 

Spider-Man pauses, unsure whether to follow you or stay in the scene. “Hey—”

Glancing over your shoulder, you interrupt him with a chuckle. “I’ll watch you on the news tomorrow morning, okay?” you tease, your steps picking up speed as you wave him goodbye. “Take care, Spidey!”

There’s no time for him to answer. 

With the shadows on your trail, you can only feel his gaze following you until there’s nothing but the distant hum of a shared night between the two of you.

Mark isn’t nervous.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

All things considered—especially the fact that he spends most of his nights fighting crime in a spider suit—this should be easy. 

No, he isn’t second-guessing the words that were carefully planned with Haechan’s useless help. No, he isn’t wondering if his outfit was too casual or too fancy. No, he isn’t considering bailing at the last second because of your last interaction.

This time, Mark is ready to ask you out. 

It’s easy to spot you under one of the trees in the campus garden—laptop balanced on your knees and earphones in, he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth curl up to whatever you’re currently watching, eyes sparkling with a touch of amusement. Just for a second, the sight of you cracks the edges of Mark’s courage… until suddenly you look up, smile widening at him as you promptly pat the empty spot beside you in a quiet invitation. 

As he draws in a breath, squaring his shoulders like he’s about to walk into a battle against evil robots from outer space, Mark approaches you with a nervous smile.

“Hey, stranger.” 

“Hi, Mark,” you greet, tugging one earphone out as you glance up at him. “The seat’s all yours.”

He sits down beside you a little too carefully, conscious of his every move given your proximity. “Am I interrupting you?” Mark asks, nodding towards the laptop with a sheepish grimace. “You looked seriously locked in just now.”

“Not really, don’t worry about it,” you reply with a soft laugh, angling the screen slightly towards him. “I was just watching something.”

It’s him.

On the screen, he’s giving a semi-awkward, half-smug interview about the jewelry store robbery from earlier in the week. In full costume, Mark—or rather, Spider-Man—talks to a local reporter that’s acquainted with his superhero persona, somehow managing to sound distinctly unfamiliar behind both the camera and the mask.

Trying to mask the flicker of panic on his face, Mark clears his throat, feigning nonchalance. “So… do you, uh—like Spider-Man?”

“It came up on my feed randomly,” you explain with a chuckle, shaking your head at the paused image. “He’s kinda funny.”

“Funny, huh?” he huffs a quiet laugh, eyes flicking to the screen before coming back to you. “That’s definitely one word for him.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head in curiosity. “You don’t like him?”

“I didn’t say that,” Mark deflects, holding up his hands as warmth spreads through his neck, his heart picking up speed. “Just… I mean, he tries a little too hard sometimes, don’t you think?”

“Maybe that’s the appeal,” you say, shrugging as you glance back at the screen again, a grin curling on your lips. “Try-hards can be a little endearing sometimes.”

The words hit him like a gentle, loving punch to his gut. If that wasn’t him trying his hardest, Mark didn’t know what it was. 

Every little attentive quip he made during your conversations, every time he showed up a little early hoping to run into you after class, every casual visit to your favorite coffee place—it was all him trying. 

Just... maybe not hard enough for you to finally notice it. 

“Hey, speaking of trying,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck as he leans closer, doing his best to keep a laid-back tone. “I was thinking about how we haven’t hung out in a while.”

You glance over at him with a teasing smile, playfully nudging his shoulder with your own. “Didn’t we grab coffee last week?”

“Nah, that was a caffeine emergency, not a hang-out,” Mark tries, offering a small grin despite the growing rush of agitation inside his head. “There’s a big difference, you know.”

“I see,” you say, pursing your lips as you shrug lightly. “Well, if you say so.”

Hoping he doesn’t look as desperate as he feels, Mark plays the tension off with a laugh, adrenaline quickly taking over his chest. “What if we do something this weekend? Maybe grab dinner somewhere or—”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” you cut in, immediately perking up as anticipation flashes on your face. “Hyuckie and I have been dying to try this new place near Prospect Park!”

There aren’t a lot of moments that Mark can say he’s felt genuinely infuriated by his best-friend’s existence. 

Yeah, Haechan might have accidentally kissed him once when they were high school freshmen, an event that haunts both of them until today. Sure, Haechan had been incredibly annoying after the bite, tailing him everywhere just because Mark was acting suspicious—and apparently had suddenly grown abs out of nowhere. Yeah, Haechan may have acted a little irresponsibly trying to help him once during a mission, only to almost get himself kidnapped by russian mafia goons. 

Yet, none of those moments compare to the quiet exasperation simmering in Mark’s chest now.

Sure, he’s going on a date with you, but apparently… so is Haechan. 

He forces a smile, nodding along to your suggestion despite the frustration pulling at his strings. “I mean… yeah, we can do that.”

“I’ll text him, then,” you say excitedly, already reaching for your phone. “How does Friday sound?”

“Sounds good,” Mark answers, still managing a soft chuckle at your enthusiasm through his defeat. “Let me know what you guys decide.”

Before he can say anything else, your attention flickers back to your phone. As the screen lights up, a frown takes over your features for a second before you look up at him with an apologetic wince.

“I should probably get going soon,” you start, slipping your phone into your bag in a familiar scene. “A friend’s picking me up. Do you still have classes today?”

As he shakes his head, Mark ignores the flicker of disappointment weighing in his chest. “Nah, I was just gonna head to the library and catch up on some reading.”

Giving him a knowing look, you raise your eyebrows with a teasing grin. “So I was the one who interrupted you?”

Meeting your gaze with something gentle, Mark huffs a soft laugh, the words slipping before his brain catches up. “You’re never an interruption.”

For a second, he swears that your teasing grin softens into something almost timid as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking a little thrown off by the sincerity in his voice.

Mark’s heart speeds up at the chance, opening his mouth to speak—

“Hope I’m not interrupting.”

The voice suddenly cuts through the quiet hum of the campus garden, both of you turning around to see a man in a dark suit and red-tinted glasses approaching, an amused smirk playing on his lips. As he takes a step closer at an easy, sure-footed pace, the cane in his hands taps smartly against the grass almost as if practiced.

“Matt!”

At loss for a reaction, Mark watches you stand up, eyes bright as you greet Matt Murdock of all people. 

Matt Murdock as in Daredevil.

The edgy, brooding vigilante of Hell’s Kitchen. 

As Spider-Man, he’s had a few encounters with the man, mostly when things were already spiraling out of control. Daredevil usually dealt in heavy territory—like entire crime syndicates, underground rings, full-blown mafia operations. Back when Mark had started out the gig as a high-schooler, Stark had expressly sworn him off from ever getting involved with the guy.

Now, he understands why. 

The devil of Hell’s Kitchen calls for the kind of trouble that comes with bloodied knuckles, long-term consequences and scars that run deeper than skin. 

That’s just one of the many reasons why Mark can’t wrap his head around the fact that you personally know the guy. 

“You’re Mark, right?” Matt asks, raising an eyebrow as he offers a hand out, the shadow of his eyes hidden behind red-tinted glasses. “I’ve heard a lot about you from this one.”

“That’s me,” he replies with a nervous chuckle, trying not to sound like his heart just leapt into his throat as he takes the guy’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Though the man looks nothing but polite, painting the perfect picture of the lawyer Mark’s seen on TV a few times, he can’t help but feel like he’s being quietly assessed. Since his previous attempts of prying classified information out of Tony had failed miserably, Mark doesn’t truly know what’s up with Matt’s powers—only that they go way beyond than just having good hearing.

“—in the same major?”

The rough voice quickly pulls Mark back to Earth, his gaze focusing again to find the lawyer watching him a little too attentively for a blind guy.

“I’m in Physics, actually,” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “We had a few gen-ed classes together, so…”

“I met Mark through Haechan,” you add casually, glancing between the two of them as you reach for the lawyer’s arm. “I’ve told you about him too, remember?”

“Yeah,” Matt answers, a smirk tugging at his lips though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s good finally meeting you.”

Mark purses his lips in a polite smile, suddenly too aware of himself under the feel of the vigilante’s scrutiny. “You too, man.”

As you turn to him again after a beat of silence, oblivious to the weight of Matt’s attention on both of you, an apologetic smile takes over your face. “I’ll text you later, alright?” you say, swinging your bag over your shoulder before giving him a playful glare. “Don’t let me interrupt you again, hm?”

Despite the lingering nerves rushing through his body, a laugh escapes from his lips. “Nah, you can interrupt me whenever you want,” Mark counters, shrugging as he grins softly. “I’ll allow it if it’s you.”

“You’re a dork,” you mutter with a laugh, giving him an eye-roll as you wave him off. “Bye, Mark!”

As the two of you walk off, he watches your retreating figures for a moment longer than he probably should, blinking after the scene as if someone just hit pause on his brain. 

The second you’re out of view, Mark finds himself groaning in frustration for a second time, shoulders slumping at his defeat. 

Also, of all the people in New York—

Daredevil?

Lying on the floor of Haechan’s dorm later that night, Mark recounts the entire fiasco to his best-friend, a Shin-chan pillow hiding his embarrassment as the story progresses from his failed date attempt to unexpectedly meeting the vigilante of Hell’s Kitchen. 

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Haechan starts with a snort, barely sparing the oldest a glance as he focuses on the game flashing across the computer screen. “Maybe you’re just that bad at flirting. Have you thought about that?”

“I’m not that bad,” Mark groans into the pillow, ears burning under his beanie. “She’s just… bad at noticing it.”

“Right,” his best-friend deadpans, offering a dramatic eye-roll over his shoulder before turning back to the computer again. “I’m sure that’s the problem.”

“Actually, you’re the problem,” Mark argues, peeking out from behind the pillow with a frown. “She invited you to our date.”

“Well, I’m sorry if my presence is delightful,” Haechan teases, locked into the game again as a chuckle escapes from his lips. “In her defense, you literally just asked her to hang out. Did you actually say the word ‘date’?”

“I mean… no,” he mutters, sitting up as a flash of helplessness crosses his features. “I asked her to dinner! Isn’t that—like, I don’t know, kinda obvious?”

As the youngest finally pauses the game, turning his chair around with a sigh, Haechan shoots him an unimpressed look. “We go out for dinner all the time. Does that mean we’re dating?” he asks, promptly raising a hand as soon as Mark opens his mouth. “Don’t answer! I know you want to, but the answer’s no.”

Mark rolls his eyes, exhaling a breath in half-hearted annoyance. “I’ll seriously leave—”

“My point is,” Haechan continues, ignoring the oldest’s protest by raising his voice. “Dinner can mean a lot of things. You have to use the right words, Milk.”

“I tried to,” he insists, shrugging in a mix of frustration and defeat. “But then she mentioned bringing you and I just… I couldn’t say no to her.”

“Oh no,” his best-friend gasps, dramatically slumping back against his chair, a hand clutching his chest. “You mean I ruined your big romantic reveal? Tragic.”

A miserable, long sigh escapes from Mark’s lips, his body sinking into the floor again as if his soul has just left him behind. “Has she texted you yet?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Haechan says, spinning the chair around with a nonchalant wave in his direction. “Lucky for you, I’m a man of many abilities. You’ll thank me later, trust me.”

As he groans to himself again, Mark tugs the beanie over his face, wishing he could disappear as flashes of earlier linger over his brain in a humbling reminder of his failure. 

Maybe he can turn invisible with Wanda’s help.

Maybe he’ll cash in a favor from Tony and ask Dr. Strange for the Time Stone so he can try to ask you out properly like a normal guy.

Actually, maybe he should just stop altogether.

“Whatever,” Mark mumbles, exhaling a muffled sigh underneath the fabric. “I’m doomed anyway.” 

Haechan just snickers, back to clicking away at his keyboard with an eye-roll. “No, you’re just an idiot in love.”

For the first time since he met you, Mark almost wishes he wasn’t.

Nelson & Murdock’s office couldn’t look any more different from the gleaming skyscraper law firms that rule over Manhattan.

The place looks like it has seen better days—with scuffed wooden floors, furniture that are probably dated back to the 80s and dusty shelves paired with mismatched frames on the walls, Matt and Foggy usually attract all kinds of clients, offering their services with little to no demands.

Hence why you’re currently eating a batch of peanut butter cookies, Foggy’s payment for offering legal support to a local bakery that’s been threatened with eviction by a construction company. 

Sitting across from Matt at his cubicle, you pause mid-bite as he slides a file towards you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at your antics.

“It’s a good bakery,” he starts with a nod, the sudden quip sounding somehow both pleased and surprised. “The ingredients are fresh.”

You gape at him, quickly swallowing the last bite of the cookie. “You can tell if the ingredients of a cookie are fresh?”

Matt grins, shaking his head before opening the file. “I did some digging for you,” he starts, a chuckle soon escaping from his mouth as he shrugs. “Well, Elektra did. She says you owe her a night-out.”

As you clutch the cookie jar to your chest, you can’t help a dramatic gasp. “Don’t joke around,” you say, half-whining at the mention of his assassin ex-girlfriend. “You know I love her.”

“Turns out your guy isn’t just an ordinary con-artist,” he explains, tapping a finger against the papers, several police reports with lengthy lists of accusations against your target. “He’s connected to a few larger fraud rings operating out of Queens.”

“I knew something was up with him!” you exclaim, looking up at Matt with a shadow of sheepish doubt on your face. “Do you think Spider-Man knows? The guy’s operating in his backyard.”

Almost as if he’s suppressing a reaction, Matt leans back against his chair, clearly schooling his expression by pursing his lips. “I don’t,” he replies, a flash of amusement on his face contrasting with his casual tone. “You seem to know more about him than I do.”

Raising your eyebrows, you shoot him a confused look. “I only met him once.”

He tilts his head, smiling in an infuriatingly Matt-like way. “That you’re aware of.” 

“I hate when you do that,” you scoff, frowning at another of his little enigmatic quips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you’re doing something about this guy, don’t do it alone,” the lawyer says, expertly changing the subject despite your frustrated huff, a small smile tugging at his mouth then. “It might not seem like it, but he’s got a good network around him.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, debating with yourself for a moment before sighing quietly. “Maybe I should just look for Spider-Man and—”

The front door suddenly creaks open, interrupting the conversation as a familiar aroma of spices takes over the room. As he steps into the office, Foggy glances back-and-forth between you and Matt for a second.

“Hey, not to interrupt your top-secret vigilantism conference or whatever,” he says with a grin, proudly holding a plastic bag in one hand. “I have secured another top-tier form of payment. Priorities, people.”

It only takes a laugh from you for Foggy to quickly take a seat by your side, squeezing himself into Matt’s desk before spreading out the generous serving that’s been given as his latest payment. 

“I’m worried about your future as lawyers,” you tease, amused by the absurdity of the situation as you reach out for their mismatched cutlery. “Do you guys ever get paid in actual money?”

“If we got paid in money, you wouldn’t have such a wonderful reception experience,” Foggy counters, offering you a bright smile before glancing over at Matt with a frown. “Are you dragging her into something dangerous again?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Matt answers, huffing a laugh. “Is this from Mrs. Ramirez?”

Foggy manages a sound of affirmation, pausing for a second with his mouth full. “By the way, if you two get thrown into jail for whatever it is you’re planning, I am not representing you pro bono.”

“Yes, you are!” you say, teasing him by clinging onto his arm, grinning knowingly at his reaction. “You love me, Foggy!”

The conversation drifts for a while as you share the homemade meal, your little investigation taking a back seat as Matt and Foggy humorously bicker with each other, recounting a few stories of their shared university years. It’s only when the food’s almost all cleared, their back-and-forth between falling into a comfortable silence, that Matt slumps into his chair with a nod in your direction.

“So…” the lawyer starts, casually wiping his hands with a napkin as he bites back a grin. “Mark.”

Glancing up at the sudden name-drop, you find Matt’s gaze locked onto your figure under the red-tinted lenses of his glasses. “What about him?”

Mid-bite of the last cookies remaining in the jar, Foggy immediately perks up. “Oh! Is this about the science nerd?”

Matt raises an amused eyebrow, tilting his head as if he could actually see you. “You rejected him today, didn’t you?”

As your mouth drops, a frown quickly takes over your face. “What are you talking about?”

Foggy whips his head towards you, still reaching absently for the now-empty cookie jar. “That’s not nice of you,” he adds, scoffing in faux-offense. “You rejected the science nerd?”

“Mark’s not a nerd,” you protest, pausing for a second as Matt chuckles, burning warmth slowly spreading over your cheeks. “I mean—he is a little, but I didn’t reject him!”

“I think you did,” he says, sounding far too nonchalant for the annoyingly entertained look on his face. “Didn’t he ask you for dinner?”

“Yeah!” you argue, confused eyes glancing between the two lawyers. “I said yes!”

The vigilante hums, feigning curiosity as his pretend cluelessness slips right past you. “Did he say anything about Haechan?”

At his question, Foggy lets out a low whistle, raised eyebrows ready to judge. “He asked you out and you invited someone else?” he asks, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “That’s not very nice of you, Miss Shadows.”

You freeze. 

As your pause stretches, Matt chuckles at your growing bewilderment.

Reluctantly, you replay the moment in your head—

Mark approaching you in his usual caring, attentive way. 

The characteristic awkwardness of his small talk. 

A hang-out mention.

The way his eyes lit up when you said yes… and the way they visibly dimmed when you added Haechan to the mix.

Slowly, the realization slaps you across the face like an obvious, yet startling plot-twist. 

Mark was asking you on a date.

You did reject him.

“That’s—he wasn’t—” you stutter, scrambling for an excuse before ultimately surrendering with a dramatic groan, slumping into your seat as you glare helplessly at the two lawyers. “Oh my God? Did Mark ask me out?”

“Apparently, yeah,” Foggy answers, offering a pitiful, still playful pat to your shoulder. “You friend-zoned my guy in 4K.”

As he adjusts the glasses on his face, a subtle grin threatens to break Matt’s casual demeanor. “Maybe he didn’t take it that way.” 

Narrowing your eyes at the shift in his expression, you can’t help a scoff from escaping your lips. “You know something,” you point out, watching his grin widen over your sulky tone. “Ugh, with your freaky senses, you must’ve picked up something! Spill it, Matt!”

Matt only tilts his head, the smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Ask him out next time.”

“You know something!” you insist, leaning over the table with a mock glare in the lawyer’s direction. “Tell me!”

“I don’t know anything,” he argues, letting out a chuckle as he shrugs a bit too nonchalant for his usual attitude. “We’ve just met. He just seems like a good kid, that’s all.”

Crossing your arms over your chest in a perfect picture of an annoying baby sister, you huff at Matt’s suspicious grin. “Fine! I’ll ask him on a date!”

“Yes!” Foggy cheers, suddenly raising a cup of stale coffee in the air like a celebration toast. “Let’s go, science nerd!”

Watching the vigilante accompany his best-friend, you shoot both of them an amused eye-roll—even as the realization lingers accompanied by a tiny, unmistakable flutter in your chest.

Maybe you should really ask Mark on a date. 

Maybe… you kind of want it too.

Tonight, the streets of Queens are remarkably quiet for a late spring evening.

As Spider-Man, Mark has learned to find comfort in the city’s constant buzz, even as a regular resident of the neighborhood. It’s somewhat past midnight when he swings down to an empty warehouse rooftop, clutching a bag of Cheetos in one hand before taking a seat by the ledge for a quick breather. 

The air’s sticky with the looming summer humidity, leaving his suit to turn into a second skin, the gentle heat clinging to his body underneath. In his ear, the police chatter sounds nothing but ordinary—noise complaints, domestic assistance, a lost pet somewhere in a park. 

Mark senses the presence before anything.

It only takes a second for his instincts to kick in, tugging the mask over his face again just as a familiar shadow steps into view, drawing a choked breath out of him.

It’s Moonlight again.

The purple and black of her suit blend seamlessly into the night, her figure quietly approaching with an effortless, laidback stride that does justice to her name. Under her hood, Mark meets the vigilante’s gaze, visibly amused by the image of Spider-Man taking a snack break at the top of an abandoned building. 

“Flamin’ Hot Cheetos with a night view?” she starts, her voice laced with a playful touch. “You’re so romantic.”

“Uh—hey,” he greets awkwardly, tossing the empty bag behind him with a forced cough. “What’s up?”

Moonlight raises an eyebrow, fighting back a laugh with a scoff. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” Mark blurts, promptly wincing at the embarrassing slip before grimly correcting himself. “I mean, yes—I just wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

As she hums, the vigilante shoots him a look. “Actually, I was looking for you.”

“You were?” he asks, voice tightening as his senses immediately switch into flight mode, posture straightening in anticipation. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like that,” she replies quickly, waving him down with a small chuckle. “I just have some intel for you. This is definitely way bigger than I can handle… as in probably an Avengers kind-of-thing.”

Moonlight hands out a purple flash drive.

Mark blinks under the mask.

Caught in his own reverie for a second, his brain twitches out of focus at the unexpected twist in his nightly routine. 

Moonlight was looking for him.

Moonlight has intel for him.

Moonlight thinks he’s romantic.

He swears there’s still orange crumbs stuck on his gloves.

Again, she thinks he’s... romantic?

As he takes the drive from her hands, discreetly shaking his head as if to ward off the stray thoughts, Mark clicks his tongue. “An Avengers kind-of-thing?”

“I’ve been tailing this guy for a while now. He was just doing odd con-jobs here and there at first,” she explains, a frown settling between her eyebrows. “Now he’s dealing modified weapons, SHIELD level stuff. I think he’s got material from the latest alien invasion too, so this is clearly out of my league.”

Flicking the device between his fingers, he raises an eyebrow at the vigilante. “Where’d you get this?”

Moonlight offers an eye-roll, an easy chuckle escaping from her lips. “Let’s just say I have friends in the right places,” she answers, subtle mischief lacing her words. “Since the guy’s working with a few rings in the neighborhood, I figured I should give it up to a true Queens expert.”

“I don’t know about that, you’re kinda killing it lately,” Mark says, scratching the back of his head as he chuckles awkwardly. “You sure you’re not here to replace me?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” she counters, dramatically placing a hand on her chest before breaking into a laugh. “Everybody likes you, Spider-Man.”

The words make Mark freeze for an instant, a strange sense of déjà vu quickly sweeping over his body. 

It almost feels like an itch he can’t quite reach—because suddenly, he’s easily hearing your voice instead, echoing the exact same words with one bright, oblivious smile that drives him absolutely insane in the best ways. It should feel reassuring, maybe rewarding given his daily effort of stretching himself thin just to lead two completely different lives. Apparently, everybody likes him as both Mark Lee and Spider-Man.

Everyone… except the one person he actually wants to.

Forcing out something passable as a laugh, Mark shakes it off with a shrug. “Thanks, I guess?”

“I saw you on TV after the robbery, by the way,” she adds casually, crossing her arms with a snort. “You’re a natural, the reporter was eating you up.”

“I was kinda word-vomiting, to be honest,” he grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck in quiet embarrassment. “I can’t even remember what I said. Was it too bad?”

“It was cute,” the vigilante admits, clearly enjoying his suffering with a gleam in her eyes. “You were all over social media. I’m pretty sure people are shipping you with the reporter now.”

Mark groans to himself, dragging a hand through his masked face in frustration. “Man, it’s gonna be so awkward next time.”

“Well, my mission is done so I should probably get going,” she says, pausing for a moment before nodding towards the flash drive in his hands, her tone suddenly careful. “Can I trust you to take care of that?”

“Definitely,” he answers, fingers subconsciously tightening around the device. “Are you doing anything that needs… you know, any back-up tonight?”

“I’m actually heading home right now,” she says, stepping back with a tilt of her head, almost as if she’s teasingly inspecting him. “I can’t take boys to my place, so…”

As the implication clicks in his head, Mark internally winces at himself before clearing his throat, shifting on his feet. “Right.”

A chuckle escapes from her lips, Moonlight offering a playful, apologetic shrug. “My roommate and I made a deal. No guys allowed unless they’re boyfriends.”

“That’s—good?” he stutters, his brain short-circuiting for a second as it scrambles for something normal to say. “I mean, it’s a fair policy.”

The shadows follow the vigilante as she turns towards the edge of the rooftop, her silhouette framed by the street lights below them. As she steps onto the ledge, reaching down to release the rusted escape ladder, Mark barely catches it—a sliver of skin just as her jacket meets her waist, giving a glimpse of a small bandage beneath the rough fabric.

It’s heart-shaped, a shade of purple that seems to purposefully match her suit.

There’s something oddly endearing about how out of place it looks, contrasting with the heavy look of her black combat gear-and-hood combo. 

Ignoring the sudden warmth crawling up his neck, Mark forces his gaze back to her half-covered face again, though not fast enough to prevent her from catching him staring like a creep.

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, Moonlight shoots him a look. “What?”

“Nothing!” he rushes, gesturing vaguely as a hasty goodbye. “Get home safe!”

The vigilante squints at him for a second too long, ultimately choosing to not press him as her face softens into something he can’t quite read. “Alright,” she murmurs, jumping off the ledge with a nod in his direction. “Don’t forget about it, please?”

As Spider-Man, Mark firmly nods back. “I promise.”

Then, as if she was never there in the first place, her figure smoothly disappears down the building. The metallic rattle of the ladder echoes through the quiet night for a moment longer before she’s gone, shadowed by her companions.

From below, Mark notes the hint of mischief in her voice as she calls him one last time.

“See you around, Spidey!”

An orange cat suddenly steps in beside him with a sharp, way too judging meow.

Mark exhales a breath, glancing down at his company in bewilderment. 

“I know, dude.”

Mark’s daily routine is chaotic enough to include all sorts of insane things.

As a seasoned vigilante, Spider-Man’s range can easily start from petty street criminals and build up to murderous outer space creatures trying to destroy the entire city.

At this point, there’s not much that surprises him. 

Yet, the sight of you outside his lecture hall on a random Friday afternoon stops him dead in his tracks.

Seemingly unbothered by the rush of students hurrying through the hallway, Mark nearly misses you entirely, overlooking your figure leaning against the wall as you casually scroll through your phone. It takes a full double take before it clicks in his brain that it’s you, almost as if he’s spotting a mirage in the middle of a concrete desert.

After three numbing, long hours of his professor ranting on about a subject he’d been barely grasping, the exhaustion suddenly shifts to a buzz of curious anticipation, leaving Mark to hesitantly call out your name.

As you look up at the sound of his voice, a sheepish smile immediately tugs at your lips. “Hey! I was waiting for you.”

“You were?” Mark blinks, his brain taking a full second to register the words. “Why? Did you need something?”

“Not exactly,” you answer, suddenly looking fidgety as you clear your throat, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “I just wanted to ask if you’re free right now?”

He can’t help a confused frown, nodding slowly despite the curiosity nagging at him. “I am, yeah. Why?”

Had Mark been anybody else, the subtleties of your attitude would’ve hardly been acknowledged, as trivial as they seemed—the shaky, discreet exhale that escapes from your lips when he greets you, the way your shoulders square up at his answer, a tiny shift of your weight as your fingers fumble with the hold of your bag, a flash of apprehension that seems to cross your features upon his affirmation. 

The thing is, Mark isn’t anybody else.

At the chance of Haechan talking his ears off about how much of a loser he is, at this point, Mark just knows you. Beyond any enhanced ability he possesses as Spider-Man, being able to read you is just a consequence of… well, having a ridiculously big-sized crush on you and getting accidentally friendzoned.

Between the two of you, you’re most definitely not the one to get nervous around him. 

So why are you?

The realization hits Mark like a derailed train, still it doesn’t prepare him for the blow of your next words.

“Any chances you wanna grab dinner, then?”

What?

Unconsciously skeptical if he’d heard right, Mark stares at you for a second too long, disbelief immediately kicking in. “Me?”

A snort escapes from your lips as you offer him an eye-roll. “No, the guy that’s just behind you,” you tease, breaking into a full laugh as he glances around confusedly. “I’m playing, Mark! Of course it’s you!”

Mark huffs at his own embarrassment, a familiar warmth spreads through his neck. “Sure, let’s go,” he diverts, mindlessly reaching for his phone from his pocket. “I’ll text Haechan to meet us—” 

“No!” you interrupt, eyes widening slightly before you quickly backtrack with a quiet, awkward little laugh. “I mean… is it okay if it’s just the two of us?”

If his life was a blockbuster movie, Mark’s sure that the scene would be played out in slow-motion, exactly as the moment was processed by his brain. As he stands frozen in the emptying hall, mouth parted with his heart hammering inside his chest like he’s swinging between the city’s skyscrapers, it takes a few seconds for it to finally click.

You’re asking him out. 

After months of half-assed invites, awkward flirtation and planned coincidences… you’re the one asking him out. 

Is this what victory feels like?

He’s saved countless lives, fought all kinds of creatures and criminals. He’s literally the back-up call of the most powerful team on Earth. He’s the model student of his major, the quiet genius of research conventions and academic tournaments. 

Yet, none of the options feel comparable to the ecstatic, shocked rush that’s running through his veins right now. 

Maybe he wants to scream into a pillow. Maybe he wants to fist-pump the air like an idiot.

Maybe both.

“Yeah!” Mark blurts, a little too enthusiastically before clearing his throat, trying again with a nonchalant nod. “I mean—yeah. That sounds… cool.”

“Cool,” you repeat, biting back a smile with beaming eyes. “There’s this place nearby I want to try out, I think you’re gonna love it.”

Still reeling from the whiplash of having his wildest daydream suddenly come to life, Mark can’t help but freeze for a second time as you reach for his hand, your fingers easily curling around his own before pulling him forward with a gentle tug. 

As he falls in step beside you, forcing his body to move as rapidly as the heartbeats thumping against his chest, Mark’s also nothing but acutely aware of his clammy palms against the soft warmth of your hold. 

In a poor attempt at nonchalance, he clears his throat before tentatively squeezing your hand. “So, can I ask about the place we’re going or is it a surprise?”

You shoot him a side glance, a teasing grin curling on your lips. “You sound a little worried.”

“I’m not,” Mark prompts, pausing for a second until his hesitation turns into a sheepish wince. “Alright, maybe a little? You just kinda… caught me off guard. Wasn’t exactly expecting to be on a date tonight, you know?”

“I just wanted to make it up to you for last time,” you reply, offering a timid shrug as the tone of your voice turns softer, almost thoughtful. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

The realization settles in slowly as if a bulb flickering on-and-off inside his brain. 

Every once in a while, whenever Mark entertained his reveries, a little corner of his brain would always envision the moment where things would change between you. After so long, he’s pictured a dozen different scenarios—some grand and cinematic that could easily rival romance movies, others clumsy and awkward that hit too close to reality for his comfort. 

Even so, no fantasy could’ve ever prepared him to finally realize that you know. 

After all the awkward invitations masked as casual hangouts, jokes that always hid a little bit of truth behind them and days he’d barely look at you without feeling like a walking, talking lovesick loser, you’ve finally noticed.

Mark swallows hard, heart leaping to his throat as the words fail on his tongue. “Right.”

It takes a stretch of silence for you to squeeze his hand again, brushing your shoulder against his as you inch closer to his side. 

“My roommate’s new boy toy works at this little pizzeria,” you restart, half-heartedly rolling your eyes as a grin curls on your lips. “She’s been raving about how good the food is, but there’s a chance she might be biased because she’s dating their delivery guy.”

He lets out a laugh, the knot of nerves in his chest loosening for a bit. “That sounds like a good story.”

As you nod absentmindedly, your eyes glance over at him with newfound interest. “Can I ask you something?” you ask, lip caught between your teeth as if you’re holding back a smile. “Are you always this nervous around girls?”

Mark almost skips a step, blinking away from your lips to focus again. “What?”

Raising your eyebrows at him, you can’t help a chuckle, looking clearly entertained and a little confused. “You keep twisting your rings every 10 seconds.”

Glancing down at his left hand like it’s just betrayed him, he’s quick to shove it into the hoodie’s pockets. “That’s just… force of habit, I guess?”

“Do I make you nervous?” you try, the question coming out tentatively as your face immediately softens to something almost uncertain. “Do you not… want to do this?”

“No,” Mark protests, his hand flying out again as it runs through his face, a nervous huff escaping from his lips. “I want to, trust me… it’s not—I’m just a little thrown off by this entire thing.” 

You slow beside him, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “It’s just me, Mark.”

Yes, he wants to say, that’s exactly the problem.

Thankfully, the sound of a door aggressively swinging open saves Mark from embarrassing himself further. 

Nestled just a few blocks down the campus, the little pizzeria stays discreetly placed between a record store and a small building, easy to miss if one’s not looking for it. As the warm glow from the inside spills onto the sidewalk, the faint scent of garlic and melted cheese flowing in the air, a guy in a windbreaker steps out balancing a stack of pizza boxes in one arm.

The guy suddenly pauses, squinting under his cap before breaking into a wide grin by spotting you. “Oh! Look who it is!”

“No way,” you groan playfully, tugging both of you forward to greet him with a high-five. “What are you doing out here? I thought you worked the last shift!”

He shrugs exaggeratedly, readjusting the boxes in his arm with a sigh. “Contrary to popular belief, I am a valuable worker of this establishment,” the guy jokes, eyes flicking between both of you for a moment before grinning again. “Wait! Is this a date?”

You shoot him a warning look, swatting his arm lightly. “Don’t you have pizzas to deliver?”

“My name’s Hendery,” he greets, straightening up before reaching out a hand with a humorous frown. “I’m her roommate’s… boyfriend. Probably. I think.”

Mark quickly introduces himself, letting out a chuckle as they exchange a fist bump. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“Oh!” Hendery snaps his fingers, eyes widening in a dramatic realization. “So this is Mark!”

Before he can answer, you’re already moving to physically steer Hendery towards a parked motorcycle, half-heartedly glaring at him for a second time. “The customers are waiting, Hendery!”

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint,” he says, backing away with an exaggerated bow and a lopsided grin curling his lips. “By the way, don’t forget to try the garlic bread!”

Exchanging a few last sassy quips with you, it doesn’t take long until Hendery’s settled on his motorcycle, the engine sputtering to life as he offers a playful salute in your direction to soon disappear down the street. As the quiet settles between both of you again, Mark swears a flicker of shyness creeps into your face, immediately drawing a small, soft smile out of him just as your gazes meet.

You scrunch your nose slightly, playfully nudging his shoulder with yours. “What?”

Rubbing the back of his neck with a short laugh, Mark shakes his head. “Nothing,” he reassures, gently tugging your hand. “Come on, we should try the garlic bread.”

The little bell above the entrance jingles as you walk in. Inside, the pizzeria is warm, the yellow lightning making up a cozy ambience with a hum of music in the background, coming straight out of an old-looking jukebox. As he trails after you to a corner booth by the window, the last thing Mark’s expecting is for you to pull him to sit by your side instead of across the table. 

His brain shorts out for a solid five seconds.

Too aware of the proximity, shoulder-touching close as he takes a seat, it almost feels like his whole body suddenly forgets how to exist. 

“If you say pineapple on pizza, I’m walking out,” you start, giving him a humorous look before flipping the menu open, blissfully unaware of his meltdown. “Don’t break my heart, Mark.”

For a second, Mark scrambles to pull his soul back into his body, rushing for an answer. “What? Oh—uh, yeah. Never. Pineapple on pizza? Gross. Illegal.”

You squint at him, leaning closer with an arm pressed against the table. “You hesitated.”

“I really mean it, though,” he answers with a shrug, the words slipping out of his mouth before his brain catches up. “I don’t think I want to risk your heart.”

A small smile tugs at your mouth before you nod, slapping the menu closed with a look in his direction. “We should order your favorites, then.”

The place isn’t too crowded so it isn’t long before the familiar scent of tomato, cheese and crisping dough drifts over from the kitchen to your little corner. As the waiter sets the pizza between you—accompanied with a generous side of Hendery’s infamous garlic bread—the conversation easily flows again, Mark relaxing just enough to lean into the banter, watching the way your eyes light up as you talk, catching every small smile between your stolen sips of his beer.

The evening unfolds like the most absurd, delirious fever dream his brain could ever conjure.

If someone had told him that he’d be sitting on a date with you in a few hours time, carefully selecting songs for your newest joint playlist, sharing a last-minute tiramisu and making plans for the upcoming Holiday break, Mark would’ve genuinely scoffed in their face and called them insane.

Actually, that’s exactly what he did when Haechan facetimed him earlier in the morning. 

Yeah.

In every existing multiverse, Mark’s pretty sure that every alternate version of him is currently facepalming over how dumb their physics student version can be.

By the time you’re both full, one lonely slice left on the plate with half-empty glasses all over the table, Mark shifts in his seat as a single question burns in his throat. 

He glances over at you with a sheepish chuckle. “Can I ask you something?” 

A smile curls your lips as you realize he’s mirroring your question from earlier, curiosity instantly flickering in your eyes. “Yeah.”

Mark hesitates for a second, sighing as it finally slips. “What changed?”

Clearly picking up his little cue, you pause to mull over the words, seemingly at loss of what to say before your gaze softens. “I think… I was just so focused on staying afloat. There’s always so much going on in my life,” you chuckle half-heartedly, offering a timid shrug. “I never really dared to look at you any other way. You’re a part of my life that feels safe, and… maybe I didn’t want to risk changing something that mattered to me.”

The words land softly in his chest, nevertheless shaking something loose inside him as it echoes in his head. Mark swallows dry, feeling his heart pick up speed as if it’s about to jump through his throat any moment.

You watch his dazed reaction with a growing smile. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I didn’t want to mess it up either,” he says, running a hand through his face as he slumps back against his seat, chuckling solemnly. “I kept looking for signs, dropping hints… after a while, I figured that if I kept quiet, then at least I’d get to stay close to you.”

Moving closer, you playfully nudge your knee against his. “Even if nothing happened?”

The answer undoubtedly feels like a turning point as Mark nods, offering a shy smile despite a touch of confidence in his voice. “Even if nothing happened.”

As the evening lights up the neighborhood with its streetlights and nightlife, it’s easy for Mark to forget the weight of a certain suit inside his backpack, ticking a silent clock for the next patrol. As both of you walk home between shared laughter and teasing banter, the city doesn’t seem to call for him as it usually does.

For once, Mark doesn’t feel like he has to split himself in two.

For once, Mark gets to be just a guy on a date with the girl of his dreams.

The conversation softens as your building comes into view, trailing into a lull that feels less like silence and more like an unspoken moment of comfort.

You slow to a stop in front of the steps, turning around to stand almost chest to chest with him. Mark holds himself back, blinking down at you with itching hands closed into fists against his sides. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you start, meeting his eyes with an effortless, all-too-knowing smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

A familiar warmth burns at the nape of his neck as Mark nods. “Yeah, of course,” he says, clearing his throat before daring the next words. “Want me to… pick you up after class? Grab some coffee?”

The question lingers unanswered for nothing more than a few seconds. 

Just as he’s about to backpedal, a rushed apology at the tip of his tongue, you’re suddenly closing the little space left between you by brushing your lips against the corner of his mouth, kissing him soft and slow up to the little mole on his cheek. 

It feels like someone unplugged every coherent thought from his head.

Mark suddenly feels like calling Wanda to make sure this isn’t a made-up scenario of his head.

Maybe Haechan will pinch him back into class in a minute.

“See you tomorrow, Mark!”

As your voice breaks his daze, Mark watches you spin on your heels to soon disappear inside the building with a soft click from the door, a sheepish but knowing smile playing on your face as you go. 

Rooted to the spot, one of his hands immediately drifts up to touch his own cheek.

What the hell just happened?

It’s a rookie mistake to expect an ordinary patrol in Queens.

Though you haven’t been in the vigilantism business for as long as New York’s finest, you do know better than to trust the neighborhood’s quiet streets—especially during a Friday night. Despite the impending loom of a downpour, the approaching weekend usually has the habit of luring the exact kind of trouble that Moonlight excels at.

Still, as you effortlessly move along the long-known rooftops and alleys, blending with ease into the dark corners of the city, the last thing you’re expecting to witness is Spider-Man quite literally dropping into your night.

The unmistakable red and blue of his suit hurtles from above in a flash, hitting the asphalt before you with a solid, painful thud.

It takes a second for your brain to finally register the unmoving body half-sprawled under the dim glow of the alley’s flickering lights.

Then— 

“Man,” Spider-Man groans, the words coming out hoarse but still laced with a thread of dry humor. “I really hate getting thrown off buildings.”

You release a breath at the sound of his voice, adrenaline spiking through your body as you rush to his side and immediately drop to your knees. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Why are you falling off buildings?”

“It was a calculated risk,” he jokes, attempting to prop himself up on one elbow only to wince, falling back down again with a choked laugh. “I totally meant to do that, you know.”

“You’re insane,” you answer, huffing in a mix of disbelief and amusement with a gentle hand keeping him down by the shoulder. “Take a breather, Spidey. I’ll bet this isn’t a daily occurrence for you.”

He shakes his head, letting out a half-hearted groan. “I’m fine!” Spider-Man mutters, exhaling a fatigued sigh before trying to sit up again. “This is nothing, I’ve had like—way, way worse than this.”

“No shit,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you give him a once-over, checking his body for any injuries. “Are you feeling anything broken?”

The playful grin on his face is visible even under the mask. “Nah, just my pride.”

As he manages to sit up, the distance between you closes just enough for you to finally note a rip in the fabric of his mask, exposing a sliver of his bruised jawline down to a bit of his neck. 

Suddenly, you can’t look away. 

It’s… maddeningly distracting. 

The sharpness of his jaw, the faint curve of his neck beneath the tear, the single mole contrasting against his skin—it looks hopelessly familiar, as if it’s digging at your brain for recognition. 

In your reverie, your eyes linger for longer than you realize.

Spider-Man notices. 

His head tilts slightly, visibly suspicious as he chuckles awkwardly. “Uh… is there something on my face?”

You freeze, immediately turning your gaze away from him and into a dumpster ahead. “What? No!” you say, clearing your throat with a shake of your head. “I was just making sure you weren’t about to pass out on me. I can’t carry you out of here and I definitely can’t call any of the Avengers for a pick-up, so…”

Spider-Man perks up at your words, seemingly already recovered from the fall’s impact on his body. “Hey, I can definitely put in a word—”

“It’s a no, Spidey,” you promptly cut in, chuckling at the way he deflates. “I know how to pick my battles. Queens is more than enough for now.”

He pauses for a second before letting out a quiet, resigned sigh. “Alright. Fair enough.”

A laugh tumbles out of your mouth before you can’t stop it. “You’re so funny,” you tease, standing back up before crossing your arms over your chest. “Can you tell me what made Spider-Man fall from a literal building?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, Spider-Man winces. “Damn, it sounds so bad when you say it like that,” he quips, letting out a chuckle with a touch of embarrassment. “Actually, Venom was trying to help me—”

“Venom as in Eddie Brock?” you interrupt him again, eyebrows pinched in a baffled frown. “Eddie threw you off a building?”

As he finally stands up, Spider-Man fights a groan as curiosity nudges him. “You know Eddie?”

You blink at him, pausing for a second before huffing out a chuckle at the absurdity of your newfound connection. “You don’t want to know,” you joke, dismissively shifting the conversation with a pointed look in his direction. “How are you feeling anyway? That was a really nasty fall.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers, promptly squaring his shoulders as he shifts on his feet. “Not a big deal. Just—gravity, you know? My old friend.”

Raising an eyebrow, you hold back a smirk under the hood. “Right.”

Already acquainted with your powers, Spider-Man scans the shadows elegantly surrounding your figure with knowing eyes. “Were you still patrolling?”

“My night’s not as busy as yours,” you reply, shaking your head as you shoot him a half-hearted, playful glare. “I was actually thinking of heading home. After that fall, you should probably do the same.”

“Yeah…” he mutters mindlessly, his voice trailing for a second before he suddenly snaps up to look at you. “Hold on. Are you… worried about me?”

The question hangs in the air almost like a dare, the tone of his voice carrying a subtle touch of mischief instead of its usual awkwardness. It’s different—a little more confident than his usual endearing, flustered stumbles.

Again, a strange sense of familiarity strikes you.

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t let this life consume you, Spidey,” you huff, playfully narrowing your eyes at him. “You can’t save anyone if you’re half-dead. Call it a night for once.”

Seemingly mulling over your words for a moment, Spider-Man hums thoughtfully. “Do people like us even get nights off?”

As you shrug lightly, your eyes barely catch the subtle change in his demeanor. “If we want to.”

“Right,” he mutters, almost as if talking to himself before suddenly shaking his head. “Anyway, you know the drive you gave me the other night? You weren’t kidding. Someone’s probably sourcing him straight from Upstate.”

You scoff, baffled at the unexpected twist. “The Avengers warehouse?”

“Most of it was under SHIELD’s possession before the Triskelion thing happened,” he explains, glancing at you with a sharp look of curiosity. “How exactly did you get those files again?”

Raising a challenging eyebrow at him, your lips curve in a knowing smirk that etches onto the tone of your voice. “Trade secret.”

“Trade secret?” he huffs, the sound edged with disbelief and a touch of playfulness. “You gave me intel that not even Captain America knew about it and I’m just supposed to roll with it?”

“Seems like you already are,” you counter lightly, shooting him a knowing look. “Besides, didn’t you just admit the info was solid?”

“Alright,” he acquiesces, lifting his hands in mock surrender for a moment before pointing a playful finger in your direction. “Don’t think you can keep being all mysterious forever. I’ll figure you out.”

A surprised laugh slips out of you before you can stop it. “Will you?”

“I mean—figure out your… sources,” Spider-Man points out, coughing into his fist as his voice lowers into a mumble. “That’s what I mean.”

You shake your head, letting him off the hook despite your amusement. “I should probably go,” you say, stepping back and tugging the edge of your hood a little lower. “Try not to fall off another building tonight, alright?”

He groans, the sound earning him a chuckle from you. “You’re not letting that go, are you?”

As you head towards one of the buildings lining the deserted alley, the shadows follow closely behind.

The climb up doesn’t take long, muscle memory effortlessly guiding every pull and grip until you’re glancing over your shoulder at the rooftop, only to find Spider-Man’s sharp silhouette already perched on the ledge from the warehouse across. Against the glow of the city behind him, the vigilante looks every bit of the majestic image The Daily Bugle’s curated for him on its cover pages.

Yet, the awkward cadence of his persona can’t help but suddenly prickle at the corner of your brain with a certain someone.

Any dots being connected right now… it’s probably just coincidence, right?

“Hey!” he calls out, his voice carrying out over the space between the two buildings and startling you out of your own thoughts. “Thanks for checking if I wasn’t dead!”

Masking away any signs of your turmoil, a laugh huffs past your mouth as you wave him goodbye. “Don’t get used to it, Spidey!”

Yeah.

It had to be.

As a result of secretly living a dual life as both a vigilante and a college student, Mark Lee’s used to two things: 

1) Feeling like death itself has run him over on a daily basis. 2) Keeping his distance from people in the worst possible moments. 

For someone like him, learning how to live with pain is a given. Whatever one can list—bruises, cuts, split lips, broken bones that scream every time he coughs—Mark’s oddly used to it, mostly taking it in stride as just another part of his routine. The thing is, out of all the consequences being Spider-Man can impose in his life, weeks off-the-grid, missed classes and ignored texts are the bits he still can’t quite shake.

A heating pad falls off his side as he sits up against the headboard of his bed, balancing his phone while watching Haechan curse at his computer for the fifth time in the last two minutes.

“Hey, do the Avengers have labor laws?” his best-friend snorts, raising an eyebrow as he squints into the screen of his computer. “They’ve got you looking like you came out of ten rounds with a garbage truck. Have you thought about unionizing?” 

Mark sighs, half-heartedly tugging a blanket over his aching body. “Do you ever think before you speak?” 

“Do you?” Haechan retorts, narrowing his eyes at the camera before a mischievous grin tugs at his lips, the clacking of the keyboard pausing for a second. “I can make a whole list of all the dumb stuff I’ve heard you say. Like that one time you told her to—”

Interrupting his best-friend’s spiel with a groan, he slumps deeper into the bed. “Seriously, why did I even call you?”

The youngest doesn’t miss a beat, leaning closer to his phone with a knowing look. “Because you want to know how she’s doing while you’re holed up in your dorm like a vampire,” Haechan teases, the grin on his face widening. “By the way, she’s definitely not buying your lame flu excuses.” 

As his attitude shifts into something softer, a little distraught, Mark looks all the more vulnerable. “What did you tell her? What did she say?”

“What was I supposed to say? That you got beat up by a space green jock that hates Earth?” his best-friend huffs, dramatically slouching back into his chair. “I’ve been lying through my teeth like the amazing, incredible best-friend I am, but I know she doesn’t believe me.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, not sure of what to say. “I owe you one.”

The youngest hums, nodding dismissively with his attention back to whatever game’s on his screen. “You owe me your firstborn.”

Mark chuckles half-heartedly, the sound muffled by the blanket cocooned around him. “I’ll name him Donghyuck.”

Haechan immediately clutches his chest, acting out his usual dramatic fashion with a playful sob. “Don’t even joke about that. I’ll really hold you to it.”

A moment of silence settles between them, the only sound being Haechan’s frantic clicking on the other side as his game loads another round. Mark stares at the faint glow of the ceiling, the weight in his chest suddenly feeling heavier than the blanket he’s wrapped in. 

“She’s gonna figure it out,” Mark says after a beat, huffing a quiet, humorless laugh. “And when she realizes it, she’s gone.” 

As he coexists with Spider-Man, learning how to live with pain is a given, sure.

This is what he hates the most.

It works like an ill-fated clockwork—the second Mark gets closer to the slightest taste of hope, gentle expectation flowing through his heart, something always yanks him back.

Before he’d left under Tony’s call for the mission, things had been good. The both of you had fallen into a rhythm that made him feel that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t screwing things up for once. From the afternoons he’d spot you furtively slipping into his class just to make him company, to the late nights you’d drag him to your place for failed recipes that eventually turned into ramen for dinner, it was easy for Mark to forget the half of his life that’s hidden in the shadows. 

Now, he’s probably making you doubt him without even meaning to.

Just barely answering your texts.

Avoiding most of your calls. 

Asking about you through the grapevine hoping he hasn’t fucked everything up. 

The usual for a loser like him.

“Wow, you’re such a joy to be around sometimes,” Haechan deadpans, shaking his head as a scoff leaves his mouth. “Why do you always assume the worst? Not everyone’s waiting for a chance to ditch you, Mark.” 

He swallows dry, words catching in his throat. “I don’t want her to see me like this.”

“Like what?” the youngest taunts, frowning as if to protest him. “A human being?”

A sudden knock on the door stops Mark from replying. 

“Someone’s at the door,” he mutters, carefully shuffling out of the bed under the protest of every muscle of his body. “I’ll call you later.”

Tugging at the hood of his sweatshirt in a half-hearted attempt of masking the damage on his face, he drags himself to the door, for the first time ready to curse at Renjun for being such a dutiful RA.

As it opens, Mark immediately freezes.

You stand outside with your bag slung over one shoulder, worry laced into every line of your face. “Hi, Mark.”

“Hey,” he greets, clearing his throat as he takes a step back, hoping you’ll miss his agitation. “What are you doing here?”

As you carefully scan him over, a frown quickly settles on your face. “I could ask you the same thing,” you counter, lingering at the faded hoodie pulled half-tight around him, dark circles under his eyes, at the faint bruise coloring his jaw at last. “Mark… what the hell happened to you?”

Mark scrambles for the first excuse that pops into his head. “Basketball!” 

The change in your expression is subtle. “What?”

“I played basketball with the guys the other day,” he quickly adds, letting out a forced, too awkward chuckle. “Things got crazy competitive with Chenle, elbow to the face and everything—you know how he is, right?” 

The silence hangs between you enough to leave Mark on the edge, ready to have you call out on his bullshit. Instead, you just exhale and take a step closer. 

“I actually don’t,” you answer, gaze softening the longer you watch him, almost quietly deciding to let him be for now. “Let’s get inside for a bit? I’ll help you cover that nasty bruise up.”

Even though his dorm currently looks as if a hurricane has just passed through, Mark doesn’t have the heart to say no, feeling the gap of your absence a little too much now that he’s finally seeing you again. It takes minutes until you’ve got him sitting sideways on the edge of his bed, trying not to combust while you kneel in front of him with the first-aid kit.

Gently pressing a gauze at his jaw, your voice drops to a murmur. “You’re terrible at this, you know.”

Mark frowns, covering up a wince at the sharp sting of the antiseptic. “At basketball?”

“No,” you say, amusement flickering in your eyes as you look down at him, lightly blowing at the bruise. “At lying.”

As his heart picks up speed, Mark can’t help a nervous chuckle. “What? I’m great at lying.”

You raise an eyebrow, squaring him with a half-serious, half-teasing glare. “Then convince me.” 

He hesitates, pressing his lips together in surrender after a pause. “Maybe I’m, like… average at lying.”

The answer pulls a laugh out of you, now guiding him to stay put with a brush of your fingers on his cheek. “Hold still,” you order, quickly standing up and moving towards your forgotten bag by the door. “I’m giving you a cute bandage for being a good boy.”

Feeling his cheeks burn before he can catch his own thoughts, Mark watches you dig into a little Kuromi make-up bag. “I don’t know if I deserve it.”

“You do,” you object, reclaiming your spot in front of him with much less distance than before, something he can’t quite place flashing on your face as you hold it up. “Lucky for you, I always carry some.”

Mark blinks at the bandage.

A heart-shaped, purple bandage.

It just… can’t be.

No way. 

As you smooth the little heart over his skin, your fingers linger for just a second longer than they should. “You shouldn’t let this life consume you, Mark.”

Every nerve in Mark’s body stilled as if someone just cut the strings barely holding him together. 

He stares at you, swallowing hard as his voice wavers. “What did you say?” 

You laugh quietly, eyes finding his own with a knowing glint. “You really shouldn’t let this life consume you.”

Mark pulls back slightly, his mouth falling open in disbelief. “No way, you’re just—” he stutters, taking a second to exhale like the air’s been punched right out of him by the space green jock again. “You’re Moonlight.”

The smile on your face widens, soft but still edged with a hint of amazement. “You’re Spider-Man.”

The familiarity of your words feels like a missing puzzle piece of a long-known picture.

Every night he’s run into the fellow vigilante, every quip she’d made just to tease him, every little detail about her that made him double-take with someone else in his mind. Now that Mark thinks back on it, it felt like being one breath away from something he could never quite figure out, close enough to almost touch, but just out of reach of actually feeling it. 

“I feel like I’m hallucinating,” he blurts, still taken aback despite how at ease you currently look. “How did you even figure it out? That I’m Spider-Man?”

“I know you weren’t expecting anyone but you should probably look for a better place to hide your suit,” you answer, not resisting a chuckle at the way his face instantly falls with realization. “Having it out in the hamper doesn’t seem very safe to me.”

“Dude, that’s so embarrassing,” he groans, running a hand over his burning face with a sheepish chuckle. “How did you get here anyway? Doesn’t the building have rules?”

You catch his hands before he can hide, holding them closer to your lap. “I’m friends with Renjun,” you explain, offering a shrug as you play with his fingers. “I told him that my boyfriend was sick and I just wanted to check on him for a minute.”

Wait.

Did he… hear that right?

Mark stares at you, a touch distraught. “Your… boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend,” you repeat, knowingly chuckling at the stunned look on his face. “Renjun says he can’t believe a nerd like you has a girlfriend—”

Before he could second-guess it, Mark kisses you. 

One of his hands curls at the side of your neck, gently urging you closer as your smile brushes against his lips. You shift on your seat, easily sliding into his lap with Mark’s help, his arms instinctively closing around your waist. It’s enough to make him forget about the ache in his body, the bruises and broken pieces until your knee knocks against his side, instinctively pulling a pained groan from him.

The sound promptly makes you pull away, scrambling off him with a gasp. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you beg, reaching for his face as an amused, guilty chuckle escapes your mouth. “Where does it hurt? Let me help you!”

Mark exhales, closing his eyes with a deadpan expression. “My pride. Again.” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, leaning closer as you laugh at his drama, resting your forehead against his own. “I should probably stay off you for a few more days.”

“Yeah, well,” he mumbles, a small smile curls on his lips. “What’s a few more days when it means I finally get to have this?”

Before you kiss him again, holding him with just as much of his own devotion, the hitch in your breath makes Mark realize one thing.

06.30 @strrykais

every weekday after 6:30am mark lee watches you take over his spotify account. it’s probably his favorite part of his very long days.

Smau

Labyrinthine @prodbymaui

You don't crumble at any man's words, but Mark Lee— God, Mark Lee.

Words : 1k+

Smut / mdni

Lucky

princess of isle caliriel, you naturally become best friends with the neighboring prince , mark lee of eloweth. always together and hardly ever apart , however, a marriage proposal from another isle looms over your head. mark feels himself spiral as he tries to support you , but even you feel indifferent to the proposal , why is that?

prince ! mark lee x princess ! reader

Words : 46.9k

Baby , i’m a rockstar @vnti-vnxiety-recs

After your boyfriend breaks up with you to focus on his music career, you devise a scheme to get back at him by attending his band’s open auditions. To both your surprises, you end up joining the band. It would be foolish not to seize this opportunity for some well-deserved revenge.

Words : 12k

Smut / mdni

The best man @mrkis

meeting the one for you at your best friend's wedding wasn't exactly how you imagined this day turning out, neither was fucking him in the bathroom of the venue.

Words : 6.5k

Smut / mdni

Craving you like the devil craves heaven @sluttyten

you’re a succubus (a female demon that seduces men to death) and you task yourself with seducing someone difficult. enter mark lee, a priest with a vow of celibacy that he’s already struggling with. you think you’ll have some fun.

Words : 8,622

Smut / mdni

Closed doors @starryhyuck

when your brother asks if a friend can stay in your spare bedroom, you don’t expect mark lee to show up on your doorstep.

Words : 5k

Smut /mdni

Personal fav !

How to get the girl @neocitylights

In the heart of New York City, Mark Lee leads a dual life: one as Spider-Man, the beloved Queens’ friendly vigilante, and other as just Mark, the awkward physics student that’s been harboring a crush on you for a ridiculously long time. As Mark tackles his latest mission—make your clueless self finally notice him—Spider-Man crosses path with Moonlight, a fresh-faced vigilante that sparkles his curiosity. Between rooftop encounters and failed flirting attempts, Mark finds himself juggling criminals, feelings and an ever-growing list of advice from his best-friend. After all, it’s about time for him to finally learn how to get the girl.

Words: 15k

Breeze @neochan

whatever was in the air, it left mark desperate, and you were the only one close enough to help

study buddy!mark x afab!reader

Words : 2.6k

Smut / mdni

Spiderm-mwah @k-oimani1

mark cant stop yapping about spiderman and you cant stop kissing him. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Personal fav !

Back to friends @leejenowrld

after years of crossing lines and pretending you’re just friends, one reckless night destroys every boundary between you and mark. you fuck like you’re starving—filthy, desperate, angry—never able to stop wanting him, no matter how much it ruins you. now, tangled in a mess of jealousy, heartbreak, and possessive sex, you both spiral through hookups, fights, and raw confessions, knowing the truth is the one thing that could end you. this is a story about the addictive, ruinous pull between best friends who can’t stop breaking each other open, and the fear that you’ll never be able to go back to the way things were.

Words : 21k

Smut/mdni

Backflips in a restaurant @ddorizrem

in which y/n, the trinket collecting fiend finds comfort in a boy singing on youtube and ends up face to face with him

Smau

Personal fav !

____

Huang Renjun

Woman @sincerelyneo

Renjun is selfish - he knows. He knows that he has no right to be jealous of Shotato, your dance partner, but he is. Because even though he broke up with you, you’re still his.

Words : 6.5k

Smut / mdni

runaway bride @https-lvesick

Just weeks before your wedding, doubts begin to creep in, and on the big day, you panic and make a break for it. Desperate and still in your bridal gown, you flag down a passing car driven by a friendly stranger. He offers to take you to safety, but what starts as a temporary stop turns into something much more. As you hide from the life you left behind, feelings grow, and the lovely stranger finds he doesn’t want you to leave.

words : 23k

Smut / mdni

New beginnings @hyuckles-chuckles

it’s your first day at camp half-blood after being found by a satyr in your science class. when the head of your new house is unavailable to give you a tour around the camp you get the next best thing; huang renjun.

son of athena!huang renjun x daughter of hephaestus!reader

Words : 5k

personal fav !

My best friend wants to be abducted by aliens @choerrypuffs

summers at camp half-blood are never dull—especially when there’s a cute boy at every corner.

son of athena!renjun x daughter of aphrodite!reader

words : 14.6k

I don’t want you to leave yet @haechani4ever

huang renjun x fem!reader

Words : 0.2k

En garde @alicanta77

you and renjun didn’t enjoy spending time together. any interaction the two of you had always led to a verbal competition, each of you desperately trying to beat and put down the other. and those encounters translated into your fencing. as much as you and renjun butted heads, he was the best fencer in the school and his help was invaluable. but soon it starts to get difficult to separate the sport from your relationship. let the battle begin.

fencer!renjun x reader

Words : 19.9k

I hate fruits @withlovemark

renjun, the fuckboy by association, couldn’t give less of a fuck about romantic relationships. he’s perfectly fine with being single. loves it actually. when he accidentally drops a box on your head and you wake up with 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.

fake bf! renjun x best friend’s gf! reader

Words : 48k+

Smut / mdni

Acrylic dreams @renctlab

The things you stopped doing @maiochiruhanabiraaa

you stopped painting, stopped doing the things that made you light up. renjun doesn’t realize at first that he’s the reason why — until he finds your old sketchbook and sees what you never said.

Words : 3.1k

Forget me not @fullsunalicia

there’s a secret admirer leaving little notes in your locker. painted in every corner of the paper are forget-me-nots, and on your quest to find the secret admirer, you wonder if they know what the meaning behind these flowers is - and if they themselves mean it.

son of apollo!renjun x daughter of demeter!reader

Percy Jackson / demigod au

Private story ! @florihaei

the texts stopped, the silence stayed. but you still see renjun everywhere, every post, every late night thought, every version of who you used to be. and the worst part? he’s still watching too

ex best friendrenjun!xfemreader

Words : 2.9k

The ghost of you @mingoner

you get stuck patrolling hogsmeade on halloween night with your ex-boyfriend huang renjun, what happens when things go a little awry?

Hogwarts au

____

Lee Jeno

The lucky one @hyuckles-chuckles

you are told by mr d to find and bring a son of zeus to camp who has been under the radar for far too long. however when you find lee jeno, you don’t want to take him away from his life.

Words : 4.9k

son of zeus!lee jeno x daughter of athena!reader

Percy Jackson / demigod au

personal fav !

Rich purity @jenonctcity

Jeno often found that he had a lot of free time on his hands. Between going to his classes, studying, and going to the gym, he didn’t do much else apart from lounge around the apartment eating snacks. Not needing a part time job like his roommates because of his well-off parents, Jeno knew he had it easy, but it never got to his head, and he was always seen as the sweet, kind person he was. But this pact really threw his head into a spin. As he sat in class thinking about it, a lightbulb went off in his head as he saw you struggling with the work in the front of the class. You suddenly found yourself in a deal that threw your life into a spin. If you took Jeno’s virginity, he would give you tutoring for the rest of the semester. It was the deal of a lifetime to you, a handsome boy offering you sex and tutoring. But when you don’t end up sticking to the one-time sex thing, can you keep things strictly studying and sex with no feelings?

Words : 11.5k

Smut / mdni

The tale older than mine @fullsunalicia

the gods still can‘t keep their pesky hands to themselves, and thus still meddle with mortal lives thousands of years later. it‘s 2020, and y/n would love to fix her sleep schedule, if it weren‘t for those annoying visions of the man in the darkness.

son of erebus!jeno x daughter of aphrodite!reader

The dumbing down of love @luvdsc

the six times you caught him staring at you, and the one time he caught you.

↳ alternatively: dumb and dumber fall in love.

Words : 12.3k

Class crush ! @kiszjuli

in which your shy and reserved TA from your literature class started acting a little different. harboring a crush on you for months, he finally gets the courage to confess to you…on valentine’s day.

TA!jeno x fem!reader

Words : 2k

Fatherhood @featjunranghae

when jeno's girlfriend left him to deal with fatherhood alone. he decided he'd never let anyone in his or his daughter's life. that was until he met you. his neighbour whom his daughter seemed to love way too much

i suddenly realize my archnemesis is hot (during a battle to the death). @choerrypuffs

summers at camp half-blood are never dull—especially when there’s a cute boy at every corner.

son of ares!jeno x daughter of nike!reader

Words : 22.5k

Crush diaries @stuckonmark

you were a growing youtuber that posts interesting content about your life. you remember a trend that was blowing up a few years back, but you had always been too nervous to do it. it was the viral “sending a quiz to every boy i’ve had a crush on.” you honestly weren’t expecting to hear back from anyone, but you thought it was worth a shot. what happens when you actually do hear back from all of your crushes? what happens when fans try and figure out who all the anonymous crushes are? but most importantly, what happens when one of your crushes, who is now a famous kpop idol, reaches out to you after so many years?

idol!jeno x youtuber!reader

Smau

Protector @blue-jisungs

jeno knew you shouldn't have came to his boxing fight...

Words : 4.3k

Room(hate) @jaeminvore

all you wanted was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital. All you needed was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital, but even that was considered a luxury in these trying times. A luxury blatantly stolen by your roommate, Jeno Lee, who seemed to have an endless line of bodies to fuck preventing you from getting at least an hour shut eye. It was annoying. It was disrupting and you seriously hoped that Jeno's dick falls off one day.

Words : 18.3k

Smut / mdni

Slut! @sincerelyneo

Jeno’s always been yours. You were the one too scared to be his, actually. But not anymore. Not tonight. Not now that you’ve decided being called a slut might be worth it, so long as it means they know he’s yours.

idol!jeno x fem!reader

Words : 3.5k

Smut / mdni

Call me when you hate me less @jaylaxies

Jeno Lee was a walking academic hazard—hot, broody, and failing just about everything that wasn’t football. Enter you, his new tutor: organized, overachieving, and absolutely not here for his attitude or his annoyingly perfect jawline. But between late-night study sessions, petty insults, and one very inconvenient almost-kiss, things start spiraling—fast. He’s supposed to be you project. You are supposed to hate him. Instead, you both are one sarcastic comment away from either a breakdown or a makeout—and honestly, it could go either way

lee jeno x fem!reader

Words : 18.3k

Smut / mdni

____

Lee Haechan

Lemonade @neochan

after meeting your brothers bestfriends, you become attached to one in particular, even inviting him to your room the night he stays over.

Words : 5.3k

Smut / mdni

Personal fav !

…I was so miserable? @ilovedinodino

Haechan was in love with a girl from his dance studio, but one day he accidentally found her Twitter account with her terrible secrets

or how Haechan found out that his crush suffers from depression and anxiety and he's trying to hide it.

nonidol!haechan x f!reader

Smau

Heart can’t lose @najaemism

fourth year pre-med student and neo university student council president, haechan lee does not have the time for relationships. instead, he focuses his attention on his studies and extracurriculars, so as not to disappoint his parents. that is until hera seo came along—and everyone starts to wonder if the university’s golden boy would finally let his heart lose.

lee haechan x fem!oc

Smau

AITA for setting my cheating ex's car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin) @choerrypuffs

revenge is best served cold―or on fire. literally.

Words : 8.6k

Personal fav !

And now us @haechanhues

your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.

frenemy! haechan x fem! reader

Mdni

Will you film my s*x tape ? @sweetiechenle

you and your best friend haechan are strapped for cash and desperate to make some... quick. thank god he has the best idea ever to make a sex tape!

non-idol!collegestudent!haechan x collegestudent!afab!reader

Smut / mdni

Target aquired! @winwintea

as part of your next mission, you've been tasked to 'capture' an infamous demon, lee donghyuck who's been causing mischeif on the mortal realm. this won't be easy.

demon!lee donghyuck x angel!reader

Words : 2.6k

I become attracted to seaweed @choerrypuffs

summers at camp half-blood are never dull—especially when there’s a cute boy at every corner.

son of poseidon!donghyuck x daughter of athena!reader

Words : 18k

Swords and arrows @hyuckles-chuckles

you and lee haechan have never gotten along, you being a daughter of ares and being the son of apollo. despite that, you still develop a crush on him…and you may think he’s developed one on you.

son of apollo!lee haechan x daughter of ares!reader

Words : 5k

The breakup ritual @justalildumpling

it was supposed to be closure. a breakup ritual. just a silly little tweet about your love for a failed hinge match. but instead of cursing your ex, it summoned him—and somehow you keep finding yourself (on your knees) in the backseat of his car.

haechan x fem!reader

Smau

Hostile work environment @midasriku

with student loans and his apartment rent due, psychology major haechan swears he’ll get a job at the record store despite never having worked a day in his life. what happens when he creeps out his workplace mentor, first day on the job? and what happens when she kinda finds him funny?

haechan x fem!reader

Smau

Milady @ickelwoong

after a drunk haechan is called an uber by y/n on their first meet, he does something that can never be reversed. he's seemed to completely forgotten the events of that night but when the two meet through chenle, haechan wonders why y/n - who he thinks he's never met before - is acting so weird towards him?

haechan x fem!reader

Smau

Bad idea right ? @remtrack

lee donghyuck — or rather, haechan, talks a big game. much bigger than he can actually bite. upon being asked to bring his imaginary girlfriend to the 127 summer bash, he has no choice but to ask for help from the only girl he knows — you, his high school ex-girlfriend.

haechan x fem!reader.

Smau

Summer sun @82sim

when you start your summer job at an ice cream shop, your new co-worker isn’t exactly what you expected.

(haechan x fem!reader )

Smau oneshot

Jingle bells @hyuckiefluff

you send a spicy photo to the wrong lee and suddenly your brother's best friend is at your door with mulled wine and a space heater talking about "keeping you warm"

brother's best friend!haechan x fem. reader

Words : 7k

Smut / mdni

She thinks I can milk @hnykiss

celebrity!lee donghyuck x farmgirl!reader

Smau

Personal fav !

Haechan twink chronicle @susicheng

Smau one shot

Personal fav !

____

Na Jaemin

On the way home @dreamzenniee

A minor car accident reminds you that sometimes, home isn’t a place—it’s the person waiting for you.

Words : 600+

Go go juice @sincerelyneo

A week ago, you never imagined you’d be here—sitting in a random bar on a Tuesday night. But a week ago, you didn’t know your boyfriend was cheating. A week ago, you weren’t single. A week ago, you had no reason to be ordering your sixth drink—or to be drunk dialing your best friend’s brother.

jaemin x fem!reader

Words : 7.1k

Smut / mdni

Captain sparkle fingers revives me from the dead @choerrypuffs

summers at camp half-blood are never dull—especially when there’s a cute boy at every corner.

son of apollo!jaemin x daughter of hades!reader

Words 13.2k

Quest for romance @hyuckles-chuckles

you and na jaemin have been friends since the very first day you arrived at camp. but with him being a son of aphrodite he’s obviously one of the best looking people at camp and you develop a crush on him, but little did you know he also had a crush on you.

son of aphrodite!na jaemin x daughter of hephaestus!reader

Words : 4.9k

Team spirit @vnti-vnxiety

Clingy boyfriend Jaemin joins the cheer team to get closer to his girlfriend. You aren’t happy because you know he only joined to fuck you. He swears he didn't join for that reason (he did)

Jaemin x cheerleader! Reader

Words : 8.5k

Smut / mdni

Brat @iceonneo

the sexual tension has gotten frustrating enough, high time they do something about it. and yes they were roommates!

jaemin x fem! reader

Words : 1.6k

Smut / mdni

Teddy bear @jungaji

struggling with recurring nightmares, jeno suggests an app called "teddy bear," a sleep bot designed to offer comfort. over the course of a few nights, the bot’s messages start to feel increasingly familiar and seem to echo the warmth and understanding of someone who knows you deeply. as you connect with the bot, you uncover a touching secret that ultimately helps you find the peace you've been searching for.

na jaemin x gn!reader feat. lee jeno & lee donghyuck

Smau

Personal fav !

Backseat chronicles @notnctu

There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back.

fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin

Words : 8.5k

Smut / mdni

Diet Pepsi @sincerelyneo

Jeno has one rule — his little sister is not allowed at street races. Jaemin knows this, and still, he can’t help but feel a thrill when he spots you sneaking out to watch him race. That is, until he sees you with another guy, and suddenly, he’s all in favor of Jeno’s rule. And he’s pretty sure that rule also means he should intervene and give you a ride home.

jaemin x virgin fem!reader

Words : 5.6k

Smut / mdni

Slytherin jaemin @jenosbliss

fem! ravenclaw reader x slytherin jaemin

Words : 1.2k

Enemies to lover au

____

Zhong Chenle

Stop posting about BALLER @winwintea

chenle loves basketball more than you. unfortunately.

boyfriend!zhong chenle x reader

Words : 1.3k

Out of time @johnnysuhbmarine

You'd be lying if you said feelings weren't caught within the thirteen years of friendship you had with Chenle, but even when you both wanted to be more, you agreed to shut any idea of it down - his future marriage was already arranged as part of a business deal, there was no point setting your hearts up for breaking. So, why is he on your doorstep begging for a chance just three months before he has to go back to China?

Words : 16.3k

Loaded @featjunranghae

in which a desperate joke about needing a sugar daddy accidentally manifests a millionaire classmate who takes his new role very seriously.

Smau

Playing dirty @hyuckiefluff

you’re tired of chenle ditching you for basketball practice, so you do what any rational girlfriend would do—show up to his practice in a slutty version of his team’s uniform. turns out you’re kind of good at basketball. turns out chenle can’t handle watching his teammates ogle the love of his life. turns out the locker room has a lock for a reason.

basketball captain! chenle x fashion major! fem.reader

Words : 4k

Smut / mdni

Training wheels @sincerelyneo

When your jerk of a boyfriend dumps you for being a virgin, the last thing you expected was to find comfort in your roommate, Chenle. But here you are, and now you're asking him to take your virginity…

chenle x fem!reade

Words : 4.9k

Smut / mdni

Once bitten , twice shy @onmyneo

… in which yn asks chenle to be her boyfriend for the night

best friend!chenle x fem!reader

Smau

When did you get hot ? @sincerelyneo

Your best friend’s kid brother is getting married—and his best man just so happens to be ridiculously sexy. Wait. Hold on. Is that Zhong Chenle? When the hell did he get hot?

chenle x fem!reader

Words : 7.3k

Smut / mdni

aita for hooking up with a random man i met at the club while i was in a fight with my boyfriend? @pinkynana

Your boyfriend always told you that he hated girls at the club, saying that they were easier than prostitutes and such. Which drove you to the decision to go to a club after your hundredth fight with him, just to provoke him. It was never your intention to be in another man’s arms that night.

Words : 1.7k

Smut / mdni

Business proposal @bbina

things aren't going as planned the way you thought it was going to be. especially the part where you find yourself falling in love with your own boss– which was definitely not part of the agreed proposal.

Smau

My first and last @withlovemark

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.

bff! chenle x fake gf! reader

Words : 31k

Smut / mdni

Personal fav !

The only one @hyuckles-chuckles

being the only child of the big 3 was always tough for zhong chenle, so you, being his best friend, was always there to comfort him. but then one day out of the blue, he just started ignoring you, and you would like to know why.

son of poseidon!zhong chenle x daughter of demeter!reader

Words : 5.1k

____

Park Jisung

Stolen moments @maunologue

he thought bringing his girlfriend to practice meant more time with her, until his members stole the spotlight.

park jisung x female reader

Words : 894

Obsession @winnietheboos

park jisung is the nation’s (secret) newest boxing obsession. hushed whispers, feared stares and his forgotten bloodied bandages left in the ring after every match. you're the girl living in the apartment next door because you can barely afford anything better while finishing your degree, and you can't help but notice the boy who comes home bloody and bruised every night. so what do you do? you follow him.

Words : 16.9k

Kiss it away @maunologue

a drunk and clingy jisung is brought home after their tour celebration, leaving his girlfriend to soothe him, clean up his mess, and kiss it all away.

park jisung x female reader

Words : 731

Tangerine love (favorite) @neocitycafe

You like tangerines. Jisung likes you. Someone is hiding citrus fruit in your apartment.

Finals are brutal. Winter is cold. And you’re not ready to admit that you already know who it is.

Words : 1.5k

7 minutes in heaven @heyjwi

you decided to attend your campus’ halloween party in hopes of seeing your crush, jisung. one thing leads to another and you both end up sweaty and breathless, locked in a closet..

crush!jisung x fem!reader

Smut / mdni

Haunt me , baby ! @ukiyoexo

when you see a ghost, you’re supposed to be scared right? yeah, that’s what jisung thought too until he met you.

a night spent in boredom leads you to lighting random candles and attempting to summon a ghost. you never expected it to work — or for the spirit to be so cute.

Words : 5,2+

Personal fav !

Dragon heart @kacchand-archive

there’s a certain charm to things people say when drunk, and when you said you wanted to be the ultimate dragon enchantress of all lands, you never thought it would come true. but with the help of a little magic, and a lot of uncontrollable teenage emotions, anything can happen.

and in this case, even dragons can come to life out of nothing. you just hope you don’t get expelled when Dumbledore finds it hidden in the forbidden forrest.

or the story in which Jisung and his overpowering feelings for you create an all new drunken mistake; one that breathes fire.

Hogwarts / Harry Potter au

Words : 4.5k

Travel buddies @hyuckles-chuckles

you were minding your own business when you heard a disturbance not that far from you, so you investigate it. you learn that you found a new demigod, park jisung, so in the moment you decide to take him to camp in the tiny car your mom got for you for emergencies, the only problem was is that camp was 840 miles away.

son of hermes!park jisung x daughter of aphrodite!reader

Demigods / Percy Jackson au

Words : 5.2k

Personal fav !

My Minecraft boyfriend @suhnandmoon

a joke tweet about your boyfriend on minecraft from when you were in middle school ends up reaching the boy in question and oh no- he's hot.. this sudden reunion with park jisung was completely unexpected for multiple parties. will this old romance rekindle, or was it just meant to stay in the past?

park jisung x fem!reader

Smau

Two dumb virgins @luvyeni

you wanted to lose it . he was tired of being made fun by his friends. both of you thinking he’d pull out fast enough… but what can you expect from two stupid virgins ? …

Smau

Suggestive

Personal fav !

@domjaehyun

tangerine love (favorite) 21.8k

i like you (i do) 6.7k

sure thing 11k match my freak 9.3k

under the influence 11.6k

the boy is mine (six part series) around 101k

the need to know (three part series) 1 2 3 40.4k

pussy fiend part 2 68.9k

six thirty 7.2k

@smileysuh

baby face 14.4k

fresco 6.8k

princess and kingpin 5.7k

ghost house 8.3k

ex 5.2k

energizer bunny 19.1k

hotflash 5.3k

scent 11k

@hyuckmov

be my birthday 4k

settle down - rockstar haechan (three part series) 1 2 3 51k

himbo haechan 13.8 part 2 12.9k

gold-skinned, eager baby 7.2k part 2 11k

meandom!haechan who’s still weak for his gf 1.8k

@tonicandjins

love always 15.6k

learning languages 18.5k

the room smells like absolute shit 2.8k

all of the girls you loved before 3k

eyes tell 3.9k

@neowinestainedress

hits different 44.8k cause it’s you 22.5k

wave (two parts) 42k

@yutaholic

can i 3.5k

hemlock 7k

winter bird (j.jh) 18k (sorry for sneaking one jaehyun fic)

@kongjjen

who is it 30k

threatened 23.5k

@withlovemark

irreplaceable 29+k

the orgasm donors: lee haechan 13k

@tyonfs

the thing about dating 7k

the bet 2.2k

and they were roommates 17k

@choerrypuffs

what the puck! - 11.6k

AITA for setting my cheating ex's car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin) 8.6k

the element of freedom 8.2k

i become attracted to seaweed 18k

@milfgyuu

babe watch 7.9k

stabby daddy 1.8k

@neogotmycookie - same page 32k

@cinanamon - your hands only 4.7

@pohyuck - where pretend becomes real 5.9k

@ne0mile - play pretend 8.4k

@vad-hander - you know we’re not compatible, right? (five part series) 1 2 3 4 5 54.7k

@seren1tyhaze - sunflower dreams 3k

@lonelyharmonies - all is fair in love and war 19k

@nmhdreamscape - wanna bet? 6.4k

@neocitylights - call d 12k screentime (a call d short story) 2.3k

The white gown holds your loose pieces together, the layers of silk and frills falling into a beautiful, though rather unconventional bridal dress. Out of everything, the piece of clothing turned out to be one of the very few things that Minhyuk’s mother had given you free reign on. The irony isn’t lost on you, given how pointless the choice feels now.

Staring at your perfectly made-up self in the mirror, the muffled laughter from the guests outside sounds like white noise over the rapid heartbeats thumping against your ear. Wide, panicked eyes meet your own, leaving your hands trembling against the edge of the vanity.

Lost in your stupor, you completely miss the suite’s door opening. As your best-friend steps into the room, dressed accordingly to the bridesmaids’ palette, her voice startles you as she suddenly calls your name.

“Hey, are you all done?” she asks, moving to stand beside you with a grin tugging at her lips. “If we wait any longer, you’re going to be late than usual—”

Barely a whisper, your voice quivers as you interrupt her. “Mia, I can’t do this.”

Mia freezes for a moment, pausing midway through checking her make-up in the mirror to glance back at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“I can’t get married,” you say, a little more steady despite the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this, I… I don’t even love Minhyuk like that, Mia.”

As if she’s trying to process the words, Mia just frowns. “Is this one of your pranks? Because it really isn’t funny,” she protests at first, regarding you for a second longer as your silence extends, shock soon taking over her face. “Oh my God, you’re serious. Are you serious?”

You nod, breathing heavily inside the expensive dress. “Yeah.”

“Baby… there’s a ton of guests downstairs,” she answers, her voice lowering with a touch of hesitation and bewilderment. “Minhyuk is downstairs greeting them right now. His family is downstairs raving about their son’s marriage as we speak.”

Shaking your head, you finally feel the tears falling down your cheeks. “I can’t get married, Mia.”

A moment of silence settles between you, both unsure of what to say. As your eyes take a second look in the mirror, the reflection still looks flawless despite your emotions, the make-up looking nothing but pristine through the ugly tears. It almost feels like you’re looking at a stranger, suffocated by the weight of a thousands-something worth dress.

At last, Mia sighs before her face shifts to a serious, firm expression. “Have you really thought this through? Are you absolutely sure about this?”

If you’re being honest, rather than contemplating the actual idea of skipping the wedding, your thoughts had been consumed about the wedding itself instead. 

While the big day approached, your mind spiraled whenever you imagined the actual ceremony—the vows you were supposed to recite from the very bottom of your loving heart, the smiles you were supposed to wear for the family that’s seemingly welcoming you as their own, the excitement you were supposed to show for the new step of your life.

The more you dwelled on it, the more the scenario of walking down the aisle to Minhyuk felt like a march to a life you were not ready for, a perpetual role you weren’t ever escaping from given the circumstances. 

So, albeit in a sick and twisted way, you have thought about it.

With a miserable sniffle, you stare at your best-friend right back, steady enough for a final answer. “The only thing I’m sure of is that I can’t marry Minhyuk today.”

A glint of something determined flashes in her eyes, Mia looking more serious than you’ve ever seen her as she nods firmly. “What do you want to do? Whatever it is, I’ll back you up.”

As everything comes down to your answer, the words momentarily fail you. 

Will you really walk away from a perfect life? From the quiet wealth, the made-up fairy tale, the hushed expectations and duties that lie underneath both yours and Minhyuk’s family’s money?

The answer comes down to the very thought of walking down that aisle, making promises and vows you wouldn’t mean, just to fall into a trap that will consume your entire life.

You sweep the tears off your face, a final sigh escaping from your mouth. “I have to leave,” you say, gaze hardening in resolution after taking one last look at the reflection in the mirror. “Like, right now.”

A grin tugs at Mia’s mouth as if she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. “We probably have five minutes before someone comes up to check on us,” she starts, raising an eyebrow at you with a glint in her eyes. “Let’s do this, Julia Roberts.”

Astonished, you can only watch as your best-friend suddenly rushes around the suite, shoving your phone and whatever else into her small clutch before forcefully pushing it to your chest. 

Before stepping out of the room, Mia sneaks a glance outside through the half-open door, sighing in relief at the empty hallway. As she stealthily slips you from the suite, both of you tiptoeing against the marbled floor, you can’t help feeling your pulse speeding up at the tension. Making the way downstairs, the reception sounds only grow louder.

Luckily, the main entrance is far away enough to allow you to walk past undetected. Save from a few waiters here and there, Mia’s quick to walk you to an emergency exit near the kitchen, confusing you as to how she’s found the escape in the first place.

The red door feels daunting as you stand in front of it, both of you staring at each other with a mix of feelings that neither can fully describe. 

As you blink at her, feeling the tears burning at your eyes again, hesitation prickles at you. “You’re really not going to stop me?”

Quickly pulling you into a tight hug, Mia rolls her eyes affectionately. “You’re finally doing something for yourself, there’s no way I’m ever stopping you,” she mumbles, smiling wide before pulling back with a gentle squeeze. “I’m proud of you, even if you’re making me explain all of this to your mother.”

A sudden commotion of voices nearby makes her eyes widen. Before you can even say goodbye, Mia’s rushingly pushing you outside, hurriedly shoving the dress out behind your back. 

The fresh air hits you like a jolt of energy, your best-friend shooing you away with a knowing grin before you finally sprint across the venue’s garden. As your steps get faster, adrenaline flows through your veins, the tightness in your chest easing to a satisfying thrill. Despite your pounding heart, there’s no hesitation holding you back now.

For the first time in what feels like forever, your mind is blissfully carefree—no questions, no doubts, no voices reminding you of obligations and expectations.

It doesn’t take long until you reach the street, breathlessly climbing into the first cab that stops by. Under the driver’s curious eyes, you finally let yourself relax by sinking into the seat, giving the man an urgent, delighted glance. 

“Just drive, please.”

The cab only takes you as far as the driver’s willing to go for a crumpled bill. 

Since you’ve never visited Seoul enough times to actually know the city, you’re standing in a maze of alleyways and quiet streets, having ran off from the bustling stop the man had originally left you before. In a poor attempt to escape the prying eyes from onlookers, you’re now lost in a completely unknown neighborhood. 

The late afternoon sun is starting to settle, hues of orange painting the sky as you mindlessly walk through a quiet street, the once pristine dress trailing right behind you in a mess of wrinkles and stains. 

As the weight of your situation settles over the dimming excitement, you can’t help but feel naive. Acting upon a single, desperate decision that ultimately brought you to a foreign, unfamiliar place, you’ve no idea what to do now—why hadn’t Mia questioned you about plans anyways?

A seed of doubt threatens to grow in your mind, leaving you to wonder if you’ve done the right thing despite any consequences to your own heart. 

“Rough day?”

The sudden question startles you. 

Turning around just as a guy strolls into the alleyway, your breath hitches as his gaze locks with yours, amusement visibly flickering in his eyes. Though he doesn’t look intimidating, holding an arrangement of flowers in his hands with wired earbuds still tucked into his ears, your current predicament isn’t exactly ideal to rely on a random stranger.

Hesitating for a second, your voice comes out sharper than you intend. “Why do you care?”

The guy raises an eyebrow, holding his hands up with a careful shrug. “Just figured you don’t see a bride wandering around the neighborhood every day,” he says, curiosity laced to his laidback tone. “You look… lost. Do you need help or something?”

As your trembling hands gather the fabric of your dress, you just huff curtly. “I don’t.”

Determined to put as much distance between you and the stranger as possible, you turn around on your heels, ready to leave as the designer sandals suddenly catch the hem of the gown. Stumbling forward, you brace yourself for the fall before a hand grabs at your arm, easily holding you steady. 

The guy chuckles, his grip lingering for a second longer than necessary, the same amused eyes watching you. “Easy there, Julia Roberts.”

Embarrassment spreads through your face as you quickly regain balance, half-heartedly pulling away from his hold. “Not you, too,” you mutter exasperatedly, glaring at him while smoothing the fabric of your battered dress. “I’m fine, you can leave now.”

“You’re welcome,” he counters, the words sounding a touch ironic despite the lazy, yet gentle smile tugging at his mouth. “You might need directions if you want to get out of here.”

The alley’s already dimly lit, setting up for the evening that’s just starting to fall over Seoul. As you glance down the quiet, empty street again, realization presses you harder, almost as if to suffocate you just enough to force the harsh truth at the back of your subconscious. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have left.

Maybe you don’t know better than the life that’s been built for you. 

Maybe you should go back.

Momentarily lost in your anxious daze, you don’t notice as the stranger seems to catch onto something. Attentively taking in your sudden tension, he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches just slightly, an almost panicked, distant look settling in your eyes. 

“Hey,” he calls, taking a careful step closer, just enough to pull your attention back to him. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Jaehyun.”

As your eyes snap to his, a wary sigh escapes from your mouth before you finally offer your name, the next words effortlessly escaping as if a grand announcement. “I ran away from my wedding.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, barely holding back a smirk as he lets out a playful whistle. “I never would’ve guessed if you hadn’t told me.”

The little quip earns a laugh from you, his easygoing response immediately pulling you back from a frantic spiral in your head. Despite the absurdity of the situation—a runaway bride stranded in a deserted alleyway in Seoul—the guy’s casual attitude feels oddly comforting, enough to calm you down for the time being. 

He looks you over, pulling his earbuds off with raised, intrigued eyebrows. “So, you just… ran? Left the guy at the altar?”

“I left before the ceremony, actually,” you explain, pressing your lips in a thin line at his amused snort, a glimmer of something you can’t place in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure his family’s looking for me right now.”

Jaehyun pauses, his amusement slowly fading into thoughtfulness again. Considering your hesitation and visible stress, almost as if you’ve been bracing yourself for another sudden getaway, it all clicks into place in his mind. 

His expression shifts to something softer, though still somewhat humored. “You don’t want to be found.”

As your fingers instinctively twist into the delicate fabric of the dress, you exhale a half-hearted, heavy chuckle. “Not really.”

He just nods, adjusting the arrangement of flowers against his arm before tilting his head towards the empty alley. “I know a place you can hide for a bit before figuring out your next move,” Jaehyun starts, his tone light to not pressure you. “It’s just around the corner, if you want.”

A flickering neon sign welcomes you outside a little shop by the end of the narrow street, the words casting a soft glow in hues of green. Just under the lettering that reads 127 Records, you look up at him with raised eyebrows. Of all the places you imagined a stranger ultimately leading you to, this most definitely wasn’t on your mind.

“A records shop?” you ask, confusedly glancing through the glass window to find rows of vinyls in the small, trendy looking space. “Do you work here?”

Jaehyun moves closer, stepping beside you to unlock the door with a chuckle. “No, I’m the owner.”

As he pushes it open, the chime of a bell rings above you. The smell of wood with a touch of vanilla feels like a warm embrace as you step inside, cozy enough that you can’t help but feel immediately sheltered. Every inch of the walls are covered with posters and framed photos, leaving you to marvel at them as if you’ve just stepped inside a museum.

“You can sit wherever,” Jaehyun starts, gesturing to a worn leather couch by a corner with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Do you want something to drink? You look a little overwhelmed.”

Ignoring the offer in favor of wandering through the space, you glance back at him in surprise, fingers already brushing over the neat vinyl stacks. “This place is really cool.”

He chuckles, stepping closer to hand you a bottle of water. “Thanks,” Jaehyun answers, a smirk promptly tugging at his lips. “Not just saying that because I own the place, but I think so too.”

The words draw a smile from you, with an ease that doesn’t feel fitting for your current predicament. “Do you pick all of these by yourself?”

“Not all of it,” he explains, shaking his head as he takes a thoughtful look around. “Most of my friends work with music too, so I owe them half of this place.”

A beat of silence settles between you for a moment, the conversation falling into a strange but comfortable lull. Jaehyun drifts down one of the aisles, scanning the titles of a shelf before suddenly pulling out a record with a small hum of approval.

Meanwhile, you make yourself at home in the armchair at the back of the shop, the adrenaline of your escape finally wearing off. As you sink into the cushions, tugging the hem of your dress to unclasp the high-heeled sandals, a relieved sigh escapes from your lips for more reasons than just one.

Somehow, in a wild turn from mere hours ago—between fleeing your own wedding and getting lost in a strange city—you feel oddly safe now.

It shouldn’t feel so comfortable to watch Jaehyun slide the chosen vinyl out of its sleeve, carefully placing it on the spinning plate of a vintage turntable that’s sitting atop one of the shelves. The soft crackle of the machine echoes through the room before the first beats of a soulful, hip-hop track smoothly takes over. 

Taken by surprise, you can’t help a laugh at his unconventional choice.

Jaehyun immediately glances over his shoulder, a puzzled but curious look on his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” you counter, shaking your head as an amused smile tugs at your lips. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.”

The empty vinyl sleeve is still in his hands as he walks over to take a seat on the leather couch nearby, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You know Sweetback?”

You shake your head, offering an apologetic wince. “I don’t really know much about music at all.”

“That’s fair,” Jaehyun hums, fingers tapping idly against the empty sleeve as his gaze meets yours, curious but kind. “So, mind if I ask what’s your next move?”

As you sink deeper into the armchair, a self-conscious chuckle escapes before you can stop it. “I… didn’t really think that far ahead,” you admit, fiddling with a loose thread along the fabric of your dress. “If I had, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You know what they say,” he starts, lips curving into a knowing smile despite the somber, yet humorous touch to his voice. “Running away is easy. It’s the leaving that’s hard.”

You bite back a laugh, caught between confusion and disbelief. “Is that a song?”

He grimaces, chuckling under his breath with a nod. “Yeah, sorry,” Jaehyun mutters, clearing his throat with a hint of amusement still lingering on his face. “Anyway, you want to stay the night?”

The question takes you by surprise, your eyes widening at his words. “What?”

“Not like that,” he objects, palms raised in playful defense before his tone softens to a calmer, warm tone. “I’ve got a bed in the back. This place is quieter than whatever hotel you’d end up in, and… no offense, but you kinda look like you’re one step away from passing out.”

“Okay,” you exhale after a beat, nodding gratefully at him. “Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shaking his head with another easy half-smile again. “Let me lock up first then I’ll get you set up.”

Jaehyun pushes himself to his feet, stretching with a groan before reaching out for the set of keys on the counter. The overhead lighting follows him as he walks around the shop, clearly following a routine by the purposeful steps. It’s easy to get absorbed in the quiet, leisurely way he moves through the space, almost like it’s an extension of him. 

The sleeve of the record playing is still on the couch, your fingertips grazing the worn-out cover as you pick it up. “I like this album.”

He glances over his shoulder from the door, raising an eyebrow as he smiles knowingly. “Yeah?”

You hum, smiling at his excitement. “Yeah.”

As the gentle beats make company to the comfortable silence that settles between you, the night slowly closes in around the shop like an universe of its own.

The soft crackle of a record spinning outside slowly stirs you awake, sunlight drawing patterns on the wooden floor as it slips through a small window above. 

For a moment, the haze of exhaustion makes you forget where you are, somehow keeping your crystal-ridden memories from the day before distant. 

As you sit up with a glance around, the bed creaking with the movement, everything rushes right back in—escaping the wedding, meeting Jaehyun, accepting shelter at his shop. The room feels as cozy as the rest of the place, especially in the morning. Though improvised, there’s enough little details scattered around to evidence his presence in the space.

Still cladded in the clothes he’d given you, leaving your wedding dress forgotten in a heap of expensive fabric in the corner, you sheepishly pad out of the room to find Jaehyun in between the rows of vinyls much like last night.

It feels oddly comforting.

It feels easy in a way that it most definitely shouldn’t for someone who’s essentially running against time.

“Hey, you’re up!”

The sound of Jaehyun’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts as you refocus, offering him a small, apologetic smile. “Yeah. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

“It’s alright, you probably needed it,” he reassures, his voice low but warm, as if to ease you out of your hesitance. “I got some breakfast for you, by the way.”

Following the flick of his wrist, your gaze lands on the paper bag resting neatly beside a vase holding the flowers he was carrying the night before. “You didn’t have to,” you protest, half-heartedly glaring at him. “You’ve done more than enough for me, Jaehyun.”

As he shakes his head, the corners of his mouth tug into a little smile. “Don’t mention it. Like I said, it’s not everyday a runaway bride gets lost in the neighborhood.”

An amused chuckle erupts before you can stop it, a hint of fondness suddenly flashing through your face. “Mia made the same Julia Roberts reference yesterday.”

Jaehyun raises a curious eyebrow, leaning casually against one of the shelves. “A friend of yours?”

“My best-friend,” you amend, nodding as a small smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. I was the shy introverted kid and Mia was the chatty extrovert that ended up adopting me on the first day of class.”

He shrugs playfully, letting out a knowing chuckle. “Sounds like a balanced friendship to me.”

Almost as if you’re confessing a dirty secret, your cheeks suddenly heat up at the memories of the day before. “She was the one who helped me escape yesterday, actually.”

“Damn,” Jaehyun mutters, somehow looking both impressed and amused, the sharpness of his face now replaced with humour. “Good friend.”

You hold back a smile at his comic response, curiosity striking as you think of the aftermath of your quiet disappearance. “I should probably call her—”

Before you can finish the sentence, a sharp knock rattles the shop’s door. The sound startles you more than you’d like to admit, a flicker of unease rushing through your chest as you spot the unknown figure outside. Standing tall, the brown-haired guy waves at Jaehyun before muttering something, gesturing impatiently at the lock.

Jaehyun notes your tension, straightening from the shelf as he deliberately takes a few slow steps to the door. “That’s Doyoung,” he explains, the calm steadiness in his voice easing your apprehension. “He’s a close friend. I asked him to bring some of his girlfriend’s clothes for you.”

Doyoung promptly pushes the door open once it’s unlocked, a gust of fresh morning air slipping inside the shop just as smoothly. 

Everything about Jaehyun’s friend looks incredibly sharp—from his face’s features to the neat clothing and styled hair, you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious standing there in a borrowed Looney Tunes t-shirt.

“Hey,” Doyoung greets, stepping into the shop with a curious, disgruntled glance at his friend. “I brought what you asked for. Though, I’d like to know why I’m suddenly playing your delivery boy. Couldn’t you have asked Taeyong?”

Taking the plastic bag from his hands, Jaehyun winces humorously. “Well, Ivy’s style isn’t exactly… ordinary.”

Doyoung scoffs, suddenly looking half-heartedly affronted by the words. “Are you saying my girlfriend’s style is ordinary?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, letting out a teasing, long sigh. “Thank you for the clothes, Doyoung,” he quips, turning to you as he gestures to the brown-haired man. “Like I said, this is Doyoung. He’s one of the friends I told you about.”

You manage a polite nod through your hesitance, tentatively waving at him. “Nice to meet you, Doyoung.”

As he offers you a small but kind smile, Doyoung visibly softens despite the curiosity still lingering to his features. “You too,” he replies simply, a sharp eyebrow raising at his friend’s direction soon after. “You didn’t answer my texts, Jaehyun.”

“I was… busy,” he answers, giving his friend a long look turning to you with an apologetic grimace, awkwardly rubbing at his neck. “Why don’t you get some breakfast? We’ll be back in a minute.”

It takes you a second to realize that Jaehyun probably needs a moment to explain how he’d ended up with a runaway bride at his shop. As you retreat to the counter where the paper bag sits, pretending to busy yourself with the coffee and pastries inside, Doyoung suddenly calls out your name.

At the door, he watches you in a way that makes him look softer, the sharpness of his face now feeling oddly reassuring. “It was nice to meet you,” Doyoung says, the corners of his mouth curling into a gentle smile. “You’ll be alright, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, smiling despite your astonishment at the man’s sudden warmth. “Thank you.”

Once outside, unbeknown to you, Doyoung glares exasperatedly at his friend. 

It had been well past midnight when Jaehyun’s text lit up his phone the night before—a touch ominous and more than a little baffling as he’d suddenly asked if Miyu had some clothes she could borrow. No explanation and zero context, which ultimately led Doyoung to march to his friend’s shop in order to search for answers after a string of ignored texts.

Now, Doyoung feels like he somehow knows even less than before.

“You know,” he starts, his tone dry as ever as he raises a peeved eyebrow at his friend. “When you text me in the middle of the night asking for women’s clothes, I’d expect at least some kind of explanation.”

Taking a seat on the steps by the shop’s entrance, Jaehyun shrugs casually, unbothered by his friend’s stress. “You’ve got one now.”

Attempting to draw a proper answer out of him, Doyoung narrows his eyes with a sharp glare. “I most definitely don’t.”

The silence stretches for a moment before a flippant sigh escapes from Jaehyun’s mouth. “She ran away from her wedding and—”

“Wait a minute,” he interrupts, throwing a hand up as he leans forward, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “What did you say?”

“I was coming back to the shop last night when I found her a few streets over,” Jaehyun explains, scratching absently at the back of his neck. “Still in her dress. Said she ditched the wedding. Left the guy at the altar.”

Doyoung blinks once.

Twice.

He exhales, ultimately choosing to accept the absurdity of the situation. “She looks a little familiar. Do you know the groom?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, leaning back on his palms with a tight-lipped smile. “Didn’t ask. It didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Doyoung retorts, side-eyeing his friend through his infuriating ease. “So what’s the plan? You do know that she can’t just keep hiding here forever, right?”

“No plans yet,” he answers, his face softening as he glances over his shoulder for a second. “I think she was about to call one of her friends when you came in, though.”

As he finally rises to his feet, Doyoung scoffs in both disbelief and confusion. “I don’t think I want to know any more,” he mutters, looking back at the youngest with a pointed warning. “Promise me you’ll call if you need something.”

Jaehyun salutes lazily from his spot on the steps, a grin tugging at his lips. “Sure thing, Mom.”

Offering an exaggerated eye-roll, Doyoung soon strides off with a dismissive wave over his shoulder. Watching his friend go with an amused huff, Jaehyun barely misses the shop’s door promptly swinging open only before your voice calls out for his name.

As you step out with firm steps, there’s a touch of determination to your voice. 

“I think I know what I want to do now.”

Outside the bus window, Seoul is a blur of sharp high-rises, worn-out colorful signs and masses of busy people. 

As you watch the unfamiliar scenery with rapid attention, resting your chin against your palm with your breath fogging the glass, the city unfolds under the warm sun like a secret mission waiting to be completed. By your side, Jaehyun sits with an arm draped over the seat, the reflection against the window catching his glances every now and then.

“Excited?”

Looking back to find his curious eyes, a smile curls your lips as you sigh quietly. “I’ve been here so many times, it feels a little strange seeing everything like this.”

Jaehyun hums, raising an intrigued eyebrow. “So you’ve been to Seoul before.”

“Yeah, for Minhyuk’s family things,” you explain, careful to approach the background of your escape with a humorless laugh. “It was all about business events and corporate banquets. Between all the hotel rooms and fancy restaurants, I’ve never stayed long enough to see anything here.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” he jokes, light and playful as he wiggles an eyebrow at you. “You’ve got the best tour guide in the city.”

As you side-eye him with pretend skepticism, a grin widens across your face. “The best?”

Leaning back against the seat with mock confidence, Jaehyun returns the smile with his dimples on display. “The best.”

Gyeongbokgung Palace is as imposing as the city’s mountains and skyscrapers.

Surrounded by the buzz of tourists and locals alike, it takes a second for you to ground yourself between camera flashes, every little piece of ornate detail and the come-and-go of delicate skirts all over the place. Always close behind, Jaehyun lets you explore every courtyard, every open door, every quiet path around, occasionally dropping little tales about the place.

After what feels hours later, you sit beside him by the palace’s pound, curiosity gently pulling at your strings. “Have you been here before?”

He nods, elbows resting against his knees as his eyes glance around the garden for a moment. “Yeah, it’s a popular school trip spot,” Jaehyun answers, huffing out a quiet laugh. “It’s been a long time, though.”

You can’t help the smile, teasing him by bumping your knees together. “That’s cute.”

By early afternoon, you’re both weaving through the narrow streets surrounding the palace, lined with a contrast of modern and traditional houses and little stores. It gets busier before it eventually quiets, the neighborhood’s village falling to a soft lull the further you explore. 

Gwangjang Market is as chaotic as it can be.

The place is warm, the air thick with sizzling oil, batter, sugar and spices. 

It’s loud and lively and overwhelming all at the same time.

At one of the popular stalls, Jaehyun watches you take a bite of your second hotteok. “So,” he starts, a touch casual but still careful. “Yesterday, you said something about leaving a wedding.”

As your body freezes, you pause between midway through another bite. “Yeah.”

Noting your reaction, his eyes immediately soften. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

It takes a second for you to exhale, pushing past your hesitation with a headshake. “It wasn’t an impulsive choice,” you start, unsure of what to say first. “I mean—it was, but I just… I thought about it for months. I thought about the wedding, all the expectations that would come with it. Everything about our families is… complicated and messy and—”

The words suddenly die in your mouth. 

A sigh escapes from your lips with the pause, leaving you to shrug wearily.

Though it sounds more like an affirmation than a question, Jaehyun holds a curious gaze. “You don’t love him.”

“I think we both want different things from each other,” you admit, letting out a half-hearted, tired chuckle. “I don’t think I want to be what Minhyuk wants. I can’t be what he wants. I also don’t think he’s what I want so… I left.”

He nods quietly as his lips curl with an impressed smile. “That’s brave.”

You groan, shaking your head with an eye-roll in his direction. “That’s insane.”

“Walking away from something that’s wrong for you takes guts,” Jaehyun insists, a touch of warmth and reassurance laced to his voice. “A lot of people would’ve stayed, you know.”

Your eyes linger on him for longer than you mean to, almost searching for any shadow of doubt on his face. “You think so?”

As he gives you a knowing look, the implication of his words aren’t lost on you. “You’d know it better than I do.”

Despite aching feet, both of you brave through the last stretch of the day, making through the familiar maze of narrow, dim-lit streets to the last destination of Jaehyun’s tour.

Seoul looks endless from the Namsan Tower.

Just like the day before, the afternoon slowly blends with the impending dusk, shifting the shades of a bright sunset to a muted, chilly evening by the time both of you finally reach the top. Under your watch, the city slowly lights up like a Christmas tree, small and distant enough to feel peaceful.

“Don’t you think it’s crazy that we exist in a place this big?” you say, fingers curling around the railing decorated with countless lockers. “Everything about my life seems so silly in perspective.”

He frowns, seemingly at loss for a moment. “Just because it’s small compared to everything else doesn’t mean it’s meaningless.”

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow with a teasing glint in your eyes. “You always sound like you’ve thought about this before. Are you quoting another song?”

The shift on his face is instant, features softening with amusement. “This one’s an original creation,” he retorts, pausing for a moment as he looks ahead. “Living in Seoul makes you feel unstoppable and ordinary at the same time. It’s definitely… humbling.”

“Are you speaking from your experience?”

He tilts his head, studying you with a thoughtful look. “Aren’t we all?”

“Well, I don’t know if I feel unstoppable right now,” you counter, letting out a half-hearted laugh that turns into a sigh. “I do feel a little ordinary in the big picture, though.”

As he shoves his hands into his jacket’s pockets, Jaehyun hums quietly. “You chose to walk away. That’s the farthest thing from ordinary.”

You hesitate, pausing for a second until your murmur pushes through. “Even if I disappointed everyone?”

“That’s just what moving forward looks like sometimes,” he says, offering a nonchalant shrug despite the weight of his words. “Can’t get far if you’re carrying everyone’s expectations over your own.”

A small smile immediately tugs at your lips, his casualness somehow already feeling familiar and humorous. “Now that must be a song!” you tease, shooting him an accusatory look. “Are you sure you’re just the owner of a record shop?”

He freezes for a second, hesitating with pretend apprehension as someone who’s just got caught redhanded. “I like… reading.”

The deadpan answer bursts you into laughter, a flicker of satisfaction instantly crossing Jaehyun’s face at your reaction, his chuckle quieter but no less genuine. The silence feels easier after the laughter fades, almost as if it had softened the edges of the evening. It feels easy to share the quiet with him by now, no longer heavy with the weight of unsaid words.

As the Tower glows above you, Seoul glitters underneath.

As your company hums a familiar song by your side, the world lets you just be.

It takes a glimpse for you to gently break the reverie, earning a smile from Jaehyun with the innocent sincerity of your request. 

“Can we buy a locker?”

Just like the night before, the neon sign of 127 Records is easy to spot. 

Jaehyun insists that your last tourist attraction should be the nearest convenience store. 

The chilly evening eventually warms as both of you share a bottle of grape-flavored soju, sitting together on the shop’s steps as the tour comes to an end. Inside, yet another one of his R&B records is playing, just loud enough to drift through the open door.

By now, the neighborhood has already grown quiet save from a few occasional passers, barely sparing you a glance as they walk away. For the first time today, there’s no rush of speeding cars, no overwhelming crowds, no unknown to discover—just you and Jaehyun, the soft hum of music in the background and a gentle buzz of comfort in your body.

“You really weren’t lying,” you mutter, swallowing the last sip of your shot as you squint at the label on the bottle. “This tastes dangerously like juice.”

Jaehyun raises a playful eyebrow before clicking his cup against yours. “That’s how they get you.”

You frown suspiciously at him, pursing your lips to hold back a smile. “Are you speaking from experience again?”

“I’m pretty good at drinking,” he protests, a grin on his face as he tips his cup back lazily. “I’ve got two lightweight friends, though. All it takes is one bottle.”

“That sounds like a lovely morning hungover,” you quip, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and doubt. “You don’t seem like the type who’d drink much.” 

“I don’t,” Jaehyun admits, gaze lifting to the flickering light across the street. “Some nights… a little noise in your head might help quiet everything else.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, carried by the soft hum of the record still spinning inside. As you trace a finger along the rim of the little cup, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable to let the music speak in the silence instead. 

It’s been a long time since it has just embraced you like this. 

Most of your life has been led by formal regards, polite conversation, constant presence.

Cheeks to kiss, hands to shake, names to remember. 

Silence meant invisibility, irrelevance, forgetfulness.

Today, it means the exact opposite—thoughtfulness, recognition, reassurance.

You watch him mutter the song’s lyrics quietly for a second longer before giving in to your curiosity again. “Did you ever think of leaving Seoul?”

Jaehyun nods, leaning back against the step with one arm propped behind him. “I lived in America for a while when I was a kid,” he admits, amused at the flicker of surprise on your face. “I’ve thought about going back a few times.”

You hum softly, resting your elbows on your knees. “What’s stopping you?”

A half-hearted smile tugs at his mouth as Jaehyun shrugs. “My friends.”

“That’s more than enough,” you mumble, nodding solemnly before a soft chuckle escapes. “Doyoung seemed really worried about you.”

“He’s worried about everything,” he jokes, shaking his head with a snort. “That’s his default setting.”

That’s all it takes for Jaehyun to launch himself in a spiel about his friends. As Mia lingers in the back of your mind, it’s easy for you to imagine them with the little details, something warm blooming in your chest the more you hear about Taeyong’s group-chat spams and unsolicited gym photos, Yuta’s rising rock band and Johnny’s remarkable skills in everything.

There’s a touch of fondness in his voice that feels almost tangible, enough to have you attentively hanging onto his every word.

Neither of you notice the approaching sound of soft, coy little steps until it’s too late.

The grey cat slowly crosses the street, its tail flicking lazily behind as it makes a beeline straight to Jaehyun, approaching the shop with exigent meows as it owned the place. 

As he leans forward, a surprised smile tugs at his lips. “Look who’s here,” Jaehyun calls, reaching a careful hand towards the cat, voice promptly softening. “What’s up, Misty? Where have you been?”

Misty meows in response, happily welcoming Jaehyun’s gentle scratches before deliberately turning her attention to you, green eyes gleaming like she’s assessing your presence for a second.

Holding out your hand for her evaluation, you smile fondly as she leans her head into your touch. “Hi, Misty,” you coo, reaching for her ears as you glance curiously at him. “Is she yours?”

“Not really,” he answers, not making any move to stop the cat when she hops into his lap, instead offering a few pats to her butt as she climbs his legs. “She just shows up whenever she feels like it. I think she lives a few streets down, though.”

You watch the cat curl comfortably against his leg, purring like a well-oiled engine. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun murmurs, stroking Misty’s fur absentmindedly. “She always shows up when it gets late. Guess she likes the music.”

Until the record eventually stops spinning on the turntable, both of you enjoy Misty’s company, playing with the cat as it grows mischievous with Jaehyun’s playful teasing. Already well past the early hours of the evening, the streetlights are still flickering above the shop, humming quietly. 

The soju’s gentle buzz no longer serves as an excuse to escape your own thoughts, and as Misty stretches, her tail brushing your wrist before sitting between you and Jaehyun, you know that the decision’s always been there too.

Even when you didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

As you fish the set of keys from your jacket, the silver glint catches Jaehyun’s eyes. A flash of something you can’t quite read crosses his face when you extend a hand, offering them to him.

He blinks after a beat, looking both confused and surprised. “You can keep it.”

The words stumble past your lips with a touch of sheepish hesitation. “I think I still want to keep a part of me here,” you say, warmth spreading across your cheeks as you try a reassuring nod. “I trust you to take care of it while I’m not around.”

The shift in Jaehyun’s eyes immediately lets you know that he hears the unspoken. 

A wry smile curls his lips as he finally closes his fingers around the keys, catching your eyes with a long glance. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“Yeah,” you answer, meeting his gaze with a small nod. “I do.”

The city’s still thriving despite the late hour, the nearby streets slowly growing busier as you slowly navigate out of the neighborhood in search of a taxi. After accompanying you for a block or two, Misty eventually leaves you and Jaehyun to face the night alone to coyly follow her own way back home. 

In the backseat of the car, he sits beside you for a second time. Now, Seoul looks just like it did with Minhyuk—a familiar rushing blur in the dark, unreachable and impersonal. 

As you watch the fractured pieces through the window, Jaehyun keeps the silence weightless, occasionally entertaining the driver’s small talk. Though you don’t notice, he catches himself glancing at your reflection every now and then, each time showing you less lost and unsure than the one before. 

When the taxi finally stops in front of the imposing hotel, everything’s quiet except for the rustle of the trees lining up the entrance. 

You stand with Jaehyun at the closed glass doors, glancing at the empty lobby for a second. “This is it,” you start, a touch of humor laced to your voice. “My family’s probably inside losing their minds.”

Jaehyun raises a playful eyebrow, easing the conversation by teasing you. “You sure you’re ready?”

Despite the nerves buzzing through your body, a soft laugh escapes from your lips. “No. I think that’s the point, though.”

A smile curls on his lips, enough to slowly reach his eyes as he nods. “You’ll be fine.”

As you pause, heart rushing over everything that should be said, simplicity suddenly feels fitting for the moment. “I know,” you say, eyes softening the longer you look at him. “Thank you so much, Jaehyun. I just… I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” 

He shakes his head with a huff of laughter, a shadow of red just barely covering his face. “Probably better than this.”

“Nothing’s better than trusting myself,” you protest, smiling knowingly at him. “I know that now.”

The smile on his face widens into something that feels too good to be true.

All it takes is a pause for you to push through the hesitation—before Jaehyun can process it, you step closer and press a light kiss to his lips, letting it linger just long enough for him to forget anything you’ve left unsaid. The touch of his hands on your face makes you snap out of it in a flash, breathlessly pulling away despite the firmness of his hold. 

For a second, you could almost swear Jaehyun looked hopeless, eyes glinting bittersweet.

For the first time, you let yourself think of a future.

As you exhale a breath, the future only gets clearer in your mind. “I’ll see you around, Jaehyun.”

He swallows as if something’s caught in his throat, stepping back with closed fists inside the pockets of his hoodie. “Yeah,” Jaehyun answers, nodding with a half-hearted smile. “Take care, Julia Roberts.”

Outside, he watches as you walk into the lobby, giving him one last look over your shoulder before disappearing down the corridors.