someone like u | n.jm

↳ na jaemin x fem!reader

synopsis:you’ve been waiting for someone like jaemin.

genre:fluff(but like sappy fluff ¿)

word count: 975

a/n:happy bday to the boy with the heartiest heart :[ this was not proof read and was rushed bc i started school already so yeah… and this is quite personal since it’s literally just me projecting all my insecurities in my love life lmfao so enjoy !!

someone like u - ariana grande

falling for a person like jaemin isn’t difficult. definitely not when he’s just so easy to love. it makes you wonder if it’s too easy, as if there’s a catch to it all. though, with the way his tired eyes light up instantly when he sees you walking toward him in the courtyard, anyone could recognize how in love he truly is. jaemin, the boy who wakes up early just so he can give you your morning coffee before your first class even though he doesn’t have class until noon.

the way your heart flutters when he immediately takes a seat next to you in the booth of your favorite diner just so he can hold your hand while eating, and the close proximity promises that he doesn’t miss a single (boring) word you say. still, jaemin makes it known that he’s listening by nodding his head, humming, and maintaining eye contact that is nearly impossible for you to hold.

the worries you once had of not being able to attain that undying love that lasts until you and your partner are wrinkly and weak, crumbles down when jaemin rests his chin on your head as he secures his embrace around you as you both lay on the bed. there are still nights where you assume that he’s just staying with you for pity. but you are proven wrong the next morning when you’re awoken alone in his bed as he got up extra early to make you breakfast, making sure to be quiet the entire time so he doesn’t disrupt your rest. throughout your time together, jaemin observes your expression when eating to see if the food satisfies you, then mentally takes note of the stuff you like and dislike.

all the bad experiences you’ve had with past lovers, moments that almost made you give up on trying to find “the one,” have all been replaced with the fondest memories made with jaemin. one of which is right this moment. the view of the sky from on top of jaemin’s rooftop beats any hill in this small town.

you lean against his chest, his knees act as arm rests for your comfort. jaemin’s toned arms have a strong hold around your waist while his chin is delicately placed on your shoulder.

no words are being exchanged, just deep breaths and the rhythmic beating of your hearts. fingers playing with one another. stepping on each other’s shoes teasingly like what middle schoolers do.

stars are scattered on its dark canvas. “that one is the prettiest,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. you can see a finger of his point from the corner of your eyes but you didn’t need to know which star he was referring to know which he thinks is the prettiest star of them all.

it’s the biggest one, twinkling in intervals of five seconds, you’ve been observing that one even before jaemin pointed it out. “i think so too.”

moments like these where comfortable silence and calm breathing with jaemin are so valuable. you aren’t sure where else you can find silence that lasts so long and still find it tolerable and enjoyable. jaemin is contradictory to your love life, or the love life that you used to have. the partners you used to date; the attention you used to attract; the treatment you used to deal with.

with jaemin, everything has been completely foreign to you, almost shocking as fiction you’ve read in your sappy romance books is becoming a reality for you. it boggles you. you’re guilty of wanting it to be too good to be true at times when things are suspiciously too calm. almost if calmness terrifies you as you expect it to be the “calm before the storm,” and you have no choice but to sit still and wait for that storm to hit.

“avoir elle est avoir les étoilés,” the voice behind you interrupts your thoughts. he pauses to place a kiss behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “to have her is to have the stars.”

heat spreads all through your face and neck. once again, your partner proves your worries false. as his ways of showing love continue and become more prevalent every passing day, those worries crumble down. when he cooks you dinner after a long day at school, that’s when you know it’s genuine. when he nags you to take care of yourself constantly, you know it’s because he cares for you. and when he maintains eye contact and nods while you ramble on about your boring day, you just know.

“you mean so much to me,” you whisper, it’s barely audible. “truly,” said with more power but still requires good hearing to comprehend what you said.

jaemin smiles, and his neck and the tip of his ears become hot. although he hasn’t said the three words in respect for your request to take things slowly, he knows the words you had just said hold the same weight. and to be real, jaemin will cherish anything you give and say to him despite how little it may seem to you — how effortless it looks to you — he will accept and love anything, because, well, he loves you and everything that deals with you.

you’re aware that there is no rush in your relationship, but sometimes, you want nothing more than these thoughts and second guesses to disappear suddenly so you can fully take in jaemin’s love. so you can dive into the ocean of his affection.

but for now, you’ll just remain in his tight hold, embracing the comfort and security he brings along with his endless love — reserved just for you. because a person like jaemin deserves to be reciprocated with the same amount of love he willingly gives to others with no hesitation.

Floor 1 - Incubus Haechan

; haechan x gender neutral reader

; incubus haechan, slight religious talk, suggestive, dubcon, demonic aphrodisiac

; 2.4k wc

; The entire room is painted black. The only thing you can see is your friend’s phone screen and the flickering orange light illuminating the elevator itself. It’s old fashion; dark-stain wood plank walls with a vintage scissor gate. The metal looks rusty and you’re afraid to touch it. You step into the small box alone, waving off your friend and nervously reading the attraction brochure for the fifteenth time. It’s creepily vague with way too bold of a font and too many colours.

Welcome to Elevator 127!

Come make an appearance at a spooky Halloween attraction unlike any haunted house you’ve ever seen. Pick a floor for an eerie hour with any of our paranormal members. Free of charge too! Pass the elevator doors and enter their realm far from any experience you’ve ever had.

Select your floor…

The very first listing in the brochure is for an incubus named Haechan; 606 years old, male (in human form), and Korean. There’s nothing but his information printed with what looks like a stamp of a sigil; two circles, one big and small, with three crosses meeting at their ends in the middle , laid 90 degrees separate from one another, with a flicked tail coming from the center. Lilith spells itself out between the edges of the circles in all capitals.

You scan the rest of the options but end up back at Haechan’s section. It’s best to go in order, he’s only a floor up and all the rest are placed in a drastic range from one another. You fold up the brochure and shove it into your back pocket, crumpling up the paper slightly, and scan the button selection for his floor. The pad is a painted rectangle with ten black, circular buttons, arranged in five rows with his placed alone at the very top. It’s damp when you press and you go to check your hands in the case it was your own sweat, grimacing when you find that there’s now a clear sheen on your right pointer.

With a final close of the door, you wipe your finger onto the thin brochure paper that peeks out and stand patiently as the elevator leisurely makes its way up. The floors were either built far apart or this old lift was taking its time on the way there. You check your phone for the time, feeling as if five minutes had already passed just for a single floor, and raise a brow when the device doesn’t turn on. How cliche, you think.

The elevator gently comes to a stop, so naturally that you wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the slight squeak that sounds when it halts. You press the door button and watch it squeak open, revealing a dim, red room with candles placed all over its wooden black furniture.

A second later, the view is obstructed by a large puff of smoke, a black cloud appearing out of nowhere to drift away in skinny tendrils from the body standing in the middle of it. You guess that this is Haechan. He’s a younger-looking man, an innocent face with a teasing smile and soft but prominent jawline. He’s got caramel skin with the reddest of lips, colour resembling the dark shade of horns that peek through his curled, light brown hair. He’s dressed in all black, head to toe varying from sheer mesh to worn leather in the dark shade.

“Hi,” he giggles as an introduction, a glittering in his black eyes and pearly whites. The man tilts his head like a curious puppy, eyes opening even wider with wonder, and he eyes you up and down before carrying on, “I’m Haechan, demon name is Donghyuck.”

You stand in shock, still taking in the sudden appearance of the incubus and his simple introduction. The first thing you do is give him your own name in a small mumble, biting your lip nervously. His eyes focus on the action with fervor, gaze so strong you swear you can feel a slight burn begin to bubble your skin on the exact spot.

He chuckles when you turn away, blinking in a lethargic manner before taking a step back and directing you into his room with a wave of two fingers. You walk in with a deep breath and the moment your body enters the room, the gate slams shut with a crash and plunges down so fast you can hear gusts of air follow behind it. How lucky that you didn’t have to experience that speed.

The first thing you notice is how warm it is here compared to the elevator, air stuffy, and dense. Your cheeks take in the warmth as you steady for proper breathing, adjusting to the thicker air as you take in the room properly. There’s a king-sized bed against the center of the left wall, covered in red satin and black lace lined sheets. With a proper inspection, the room is actually furnished like any other, only standing out due to its intimate and monotone colour palette. Besides the giant sigil that’s painted onto the center of the floor, identical to the brochure.

“Thanks for choosing my floor, doll. I was getting bored,” he smiles, still not moving an inch. His posture is like that of a statue, the only sense of life is the smile on his lips. With his hands crossed in front of his hips, he continues speaking with a charming lilt in a honey-coated voice, “the only rule on my floor is absolutely no religious or silver jewellery. Go put them in the box behind you.”

You spin around and make your way to the small glass box, open and waiting, before discarding any accessories that seem to be against his rule. The moment your necklace is off your skin and onto the box, you feel Haechan’s body stood a centimetre from your own. Leaning over your shoulder, he watches you drop the last of your rings into the box before whispering, “can I touch you?”

You barely get halfway through a nod before Haechan eagerly wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against his own body. His skin is searing hot, only slightly hidden by the heat absorption of his clothing. The part that stands out the most is his bare fingers, ungloved, and laid on your sides. There’s a gradual sweltering feeling that forms like a branding print and your body begins to panic at the feeling, needing to run from the danger of burns this very moment. Except you lean into it, the slight numbing feeling worryingly satisfying the more you hold out. Sustaining the touch makes it more intense, more terrifying, yet when his hand drifts up to clutch at a different spot, the fresh searing feel has shivers flying down your spine.

“Close your eyes, doll,” he mutters into your nape. Your eyelids shut without any added thought of his order, lips parting in a slight gasp at the touch of his breath against your exposed skin. It’s overwhelming and you feel your brain go fuzzy, zeroing in on that singular spot and the throb that comes with every exhale .

His hand finds your jaw next, the touch burning just as much as the last, and with a firm hold, Haechan physically gets you to look over your shoulder. With a drowsy blink, you open your eyes to the dizzying sight of his face leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss. Your mind blanks immediately; senses working in overdrive so that all you can make out is static, you’ve forgotten how to breathe and there’s no way to feel if you’re kissing Haechan back properly.

The demon pulls back with a lewd pop, licking away the spit all over his lips with a swipe of his forked tongue before murmuring for you to open your eyes again. “You can relax now, baby.”

The action of blinking open is painfully difficult, eyelids insanely sluggish and head so heavy that even the low luminescence of candle-light is enough to have you wince. You open your mouth to speak but can only manage a smile, tongue lazy after the haze. He doesn’t look nearly as worn out as you, the exact opposite actually. His breathing is slow and controlled, expression alert and attuned to each and every one of your actions.

“I’ll let you relax,” he huffs with a simper, “I’ll have to calm down on how much I take, you’re more sensitive than I thought.” As if to check that truth, Haechan runs his pointer down your neck and follows the movement to the middle of your chest with a light scratch, digging into the midway point of your pelvis before letting go with an amused hum. You visibly shudder.

He pulls away and wanders to the other side of the room. The distance clears your head instantly, muscles gaining their strength back from the jello state they were in just a moment ago. Regaining the ability to breathe feels like a blocked nose finally clearing up after a week long fever and you take deep, desperate inhales, savouring the sensation of your lungs filling properly. Sitting up, you watch Haechan walk over to the glass box and examine the contents through the clear material curiously.

You startle realising you were no longer near the glass box, suddenly you were on a completely different side of the room watching it from a distance away. “What the fuck,” you whisper, gulping down the confusion and panting in fear. Your hands fly up and you look between them and the box so quickly your neck might snap if you do another two. The sleeves of your shirt fall down your forearm to reveal your skin, allowing access to cooling. You relish in the feeling of crisp air on your skin, exceptionally torrid, so much so you swear that you can feel the layer sizzling against one another.

“Don’t worry,” Haechan smirks, licking across his perfectly straight teeth with a calm gaze that only serves to panic you more. “I moved you to the bed while we were kissing.” There’s no shame in his voice, only a hint of pride when recalling the actions, but he’s so infuriatingly indifferent that you feel a whine crawl up your throat, feeling ignored.

Right, you think, inhaling once and twice to ground yourself after that blanking bliss. The satin is damp under your hands and it holds onto your legs surprisingly well, latching onto the sweat that has formed between before and now. “What happened to me?” you ask, breathless.

He stands up from where he was leaning over the box, strolling over the small distance with a slight smirk and watchful eyes. “You get weak when we touch,” he explains with a drag of his words, “having your essence isn’t the most powerful feeling after all.”

“My essence?” The saliva in your mouth is grossly thick, vicious, and somewhat salty. You’re dehydrated. There’s a bottle of water on the bedside table and you gulp half of it down in one go, forgoing the need to breathe in exchange for the cool liquid. The preparation is oddly excessive but you appreciate it nonetheless, necking the second half after less than ten seconds of being out of breath.

He watches you drink with a clouded gaze. The glaze in his eyes have disappeared, black irises dulling in emotion before expanding beyond their circumference, colouring part of his whites. You stare as they change and take a deep breath to control the fearful confusion of the sight. The night was strange enough, anymore questioning and your head would explode. Your lips, swollen and wet with more than just his spit is a delightful sight and Haechan feels himself grow impatient. “Are you ready to continue?” he hurries, trying his best to hide the hunger in his chest.

Continue with what, you don’t know, but there was absolutely no way you could take sitting around and doing nothing under his intense stare for any longer. You nod and he’s in front of you in half a second, on his knees and leaning forward with his hands on your thighs for support. “Okay,” he drawls, setting fire to your skin as he examines every line of your features, “I’m going to touch you. Are you okay with that?”

With the pressure of his hands on your body yet again, you feel your chest constrict once more before panting out a yes. He notices the effect and removes his hands, asking a second time to receive the same response, this time from a clear head. With your cue to go, Haechan’s pushing himself against you with haste and dives in to press your lips together. You chase after him when he pulls away, desperate and empty without his kiss.

“I could smell you the moment you got into the elevator,” he lulls, licking his tongue over the warm expanse of your neck. His saliva was cold, shockingly so, and you chase the chilling moisture desperately. The sharp gasp you let out is embarrassingly loud but Haechan, feverish, soaks the sound up, fingers tightening their grip on your shoulders as he noses at your neck.

“Smell what?” you shiver, afraid of moving even an inch away from his touch. It was dangerously enchanting and you find yourself losing your sense again, giving your all to the greedy demon. Haechan wasn’t taking nearly as much as before, you feel yourself becoming impatient, needing the overwhelming sensation for as long as you can take it. He pulls away with the widest grin on his face, the entirety of his eyes completely painted over in deep black. A misty cloud of smoke, like the one he introduced himself in, begins to surround you.

“Your arousal, of course,” he chuckles. He stuffs his nose into your clavicle, tracing up the line of your shoulder to inhale deeply. “It’s astoundingly suffocating.” The action would be weird if not for the warmth that gathers in your belly, one that dissipates into sparks that race down your limbs in a pleasant buzz.

“Do you like it?” you shudder, throwing your head back as he sucks at a pressure point in the junction of your neck and shoulders.

“Oh, my babydoll,” he growls, gripping your chin with his thumb to stare into your eyes, forcing you to gaze into his black. The rest of the room turns black in your peripheral, partially masking the wings that have grown from his back, but you can’t take notice with how potently demanding his stare is, not allowing you to look away for even a second.

His fingers, with nails that have become tough and black, wander up and push against your lips, fighting for entry before you feel his skin, now leathery and hot enough to bubble, lays flat against your tongue. It feels like your mouth is about to melt away yet you couldn’t want anything other than to be in this exact moment. Haechan’s grin stretches from ear to ear, wider than the length between his horns, and still, the harrowing image does nothing to deter your want. He leans forward and mumbles with the same honey, sweet voice as before, “I more than like it. Your arousal is a gift from God himself.”

ily

; how jaemin expresses love without saying it directly

; jaemin x gender neutral reader

; love languages, pure fluff

; 3k wc

Words of Affirmation

Jaemin doesn’t have a way with words, something clear since the day you met. With his simple vocabulary consisting of mostly sound effects, you wonder how he’s able to melt you with the slightest mumble of praise. It’s everything about him - everything other than his actual words. It’s his compliments coated in honey, slipping from his wide grin beneath gleaming eyes, so earnest and loving, that has your chest tightening.

“You’re even more gorgeous in person,” he cooed when you first met, blinking in appreciation but not straying away from your eyes at all, not even when you stare back in shock. Everyone loves a compliment or two but online, no matter how much you appreciated it, Jaemin’s emojis and capital letters were no match for the cheesiness of his physical expression.

He never learns to tone it down, always sending you an appreciative once over along with a wave of adoring words to last you for a month. Whether that be in the form of text messages, shouting across the hallway, romantic whispers, Instagram comments, or even bragging about you with his friends, Jaemin loves to talk.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you sleepily, feet dragging across the kitchen tiles with no energy to put into actual steps. You smile at his messy black bed hair and turn back to your coffee, stirring with an absent mind. He never learned to stick to one pet name, always bouncing around the few he’s become accustomed to. You think he’s picked up on your favourites though, usually choosing to call you princess with a proud lick of lips.

“Morning,” you chime back, finally lifting the cup to your lips with a hesitant sip. Hot, you think, but let the boiling drink into your mouth anyway, too tired to care about the pain.

Jaemin seems to notice it, sending you a playful giggle as he pops his favourite sunflower seed bread into the toaster. You glare back and put the mug down with a roll of eyes, clicking your tongue at his teasing through a fond smile. Your boyfriend sighs, leaning back against the counter with crossed arms and a soft gaze before humming out, “have I ever told you how cute you look in the mornings?”

You halt for a moment before your lips tug up slightly, shy, and you bring the coffee back up to hide your loving reaction. “You have,” you groan in exasperation, raising a brow at the man to ask what of the comment. As if an embarrassed school girl, you avert your gaze and twiddle your thumbs, attentive to his response but becoming more and more flustered when you meet his eyes.

“It seemed like a good time to tell you again then,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. With a tilt of his head, observing like an innocent puppy, the corner of his lips tug up into an attractive smirk. His words are knowing when he coos, “my princess is so pretty in the mornings. Still sleepy and in my clothes.”

“Yours,” you sigh back in a daze, pupils shaping into hearts at the very sound of the word. The hem of his jumper rolls between your fingertips and you drown in the familiarity of the comforting fabric, worn down and mixed with both of your scents.

“Adorable you are,” he lulls, turning around to pop out the toast impatiently. It hasn’t gotten brown yet. Jaemin spins back around after putting the bread back in with a groan, giving your sleepwear a once over before silently thinking to himself, contemplating. “You should wear that blue shirt you bought last week,” he suggests.

You’d never thought about wearing it to work before.

“I really like how it looks on you,” he compliments, genuine and whole-hearted about his appreciation.

“Thank you.” There’s those butterflies again, the cloudy feeling in your head as your confidence raises just the slightest, reassured. Accepting compliments is always a struggle but with Jaemin, there’s not even any room to ponder the praise, a statement said with so much simplicity and care that doubt just isn’t correct.

Jaemin adds, “though I think you look good in everything.*

Acts of Service

When they say chivalry isn’t dead, they’re talking about Jaemin. There’s no doubt his pride when it comes to helping you out, so in love with receiving a thankful kiss or smile that he’ll go out of his way any time he can. Dishes after a dinner party, making the bed every morning, stocking the groceries, making breakfast, dropping you off to work or school - the list goes on but by far his absolute favourite is giving massages.

With an echoing, exhausted groan you fall into the hot bathtub with closed eyes, allowing your body to slowly submerge and get used to the heat. The water is a pastel purple, white glitter floating on the top with tiny daisies bobbing up and down with every wave your fingers send their way. The air is filled with an artificial lavender similar to that of your car freshener but you appreciate the effort anyway, taking in a deep breath letting the scent flow through your brain like peach fuzz. Candles are lit on your sink counter, the closed lid of your toilet, and the corners of the bathtub itself. Jaemin asks if you’d like the lights off with that and you nod softly, listening to the switch flick as soft music lulls through the air, reverberated by your bathroom walls.

"I made a playlist for this too,” Jaemin grins proudly at his Spotify playlist listed as a single bathtub emoji. How appropriate. He sets it down on the floor at a low volume and lets the world fade away, only orange candle wicks slowly burning away with the movement of water to fill your blank minds.

Jaemin sits outside the tub, fully clothed but just as content, with an adoring gaze laid upon his open palms. “Do you like it, princess?” he asks, already knowing your answer but dying to hear it himself.

“Oh Nana, how much I love this,” you lilt through an exhausted smirk, eyes fluttering open to appreciate his skin glowing in the fire light, “you must’ve worked so hard on this just for me. Everything is absolutely perfect and I couldn’t have asked for anything more, you didn’t even need to do this in the first place.”

He beams, satisfied, “as long as you like it then all the work is worth it.” You hold back an adoring grin, biting on your trembling lip so painfully that you try to grip at the cloudy purple water. He’s kind and you just feel so special. “How was work?” he asks, redirecting the conversation.

“Ugh,” you deflate at the thought, twirling a daisy stem into Jaemin’s hair distractedly. He accepts it with a cute smile. “I was assigned to sort out bills in the afternoon so my neck and shoulders are killing me. I never want to look down again.” Your neck tilts back with the words and there is a small pop in your neck, bones cracking grossly to show Jaemin just how awful it has actually gotten.

“Oh, baby, do you want a massage for that?” Jaemin’s not the best as massages, hands always a little too gentle and wandering with soft touches rather than helping to release stress. Yet you accept anyway, absolutely lovestruck that he’d even offer after all he’s done to set up the bathroom alone.

His hands awkwardly twist around your shoulders, the angle of the bathtub not leaving much room for his arms to be properly placed. The tips of fingers meet your shoulders first, pushing in awkwardly to try and undo the knots in your muscles after a long day. God, does he suck at this.

“Thanks, Jaemin,” you whisper, genuine and appreciative.

Receiving Gifts

Everything always seems to remind Jaemin of you; planned or spontaneous, big or small, expensive or cheap, bought or handmade. The feeling of a fluttering heart never fleets when the man offers you a gift, his adoration for you held in the palms of his hands, ready to be taken by your own.

Sometimes the amount he offers is concerning, both because of how empty his wallet is getting and in exchange, how much space is it all taking up. The bathroom drawers are filled with lipsticks and eyeshadows Jaemin wanted to see you in, the sink right above it with two rubber ducks in matching scarves that he’d bought because “look! They’re just like us. Duck couple!” The wardrobe is getting packed and packed with every new shirt the man buys for you, knowing that you’ve been looking for something like that for a while now. The jar is going to overflow soon, rocks that Jaemin collected by the seaside all packed for a mix of colour and texture through the glass.

“Y/n!” he calls out, the tone of voice familiar, the same eager excitement of a child getting ready to show their parents a painting they did in class today. His footsteps pad up loudly, practically stomping as he sprints, and you turn around to a familiar sight.

Jaemin stands tall, not at all affected by the running, with strong shoulders and hands behind his back suspiciously. You pretend to be clueless, wouldn’t want to ruin a surprise after all. “Yes?” you reply, fond but unaware.

He becomes overjoyed by your unknowing attitude, heels bouncing up and down in an animated manner as he does his best to hold back the giant grin growing on his lips. He fails miserably, obviously. If holding the gift behind his back wasn’t enough, Jaemin’s eyes always glow in an overjoyed thrill when giving you something, curious of your reaction. “Guess what I got you.”

He’s practically shining, glimmering with the way he’s staring up at you with stars spinning around his head. “You got me something?” you chirp, lifting yourself happily and trying to take a peek behind the boy’s shoulder. Jaemin, like always, dodges your advance and takes a step back, a playful smirk on his face when he shakes his head with a click of his tongue.

“No peeking,” he bites his tongue, “I said guess.”

You blank at him, blinking with absent eyes before grunting out a “no.”

Jaemin gives up easily, shoulders drooping down before he rolls his eyes. Through a wistful smile, he mumbles, “I got this for you.”

This is the same too, his timidity whenever actually giving it to you, regressing into a shy attitude once the time for your reaction comes around. It’s probably when he’s most anxious in your relationship. His feet fall flat and he watches with curled shoulders as you gape at the tiny cupcake that finds its way from behind his back.

It’s red velvet in a white paper liner and pink hearts iced all over top. “It’s adorable,” you peep, bending down to get a closer look before taking into your own grasp first, “this is for me?”

“Well I was hoping we would share,” he chuckles, “but yes, I bought them with you in mind.”

The cake is room temperature in your fingers, feeling like butter as you peel off the wrapper. “That’s so sweet of you,” you gush, looking back up at Jaemin feeling like you’re about to burst.

“There’s more.” He rushes back to the hallway and bends down for a small white box that you hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by the singular cake that Jaemin originally approached you with. It’s cardboard with a silk red bow wrapped around the handle, draping down the prism with romantic waves. You almost want to keep the box too. There are all sorts of red velvet cupcakes, all the same paper but with different rises, sprinkles, icing patterns, and colours.

They’re too sweet to eat.

Quality Time

Jaemin is busy. Extremely so. Stressfully so. Any time he has to himself are balanced halves dedicated to you and sleeping. Sometimes you feel like a burden, always taking up every second he isn’t working, time he could be using to unwind alone, but he insists.

Jaemin pushes that he loves to be with you, even when he’s too emotionally drained to chat or stressed to even be touched, Jaemin accompanies you. It’s the small walks together to the SM building before late night practice or the new restaurant he’s wanted to try in Itaewon. He’s around.

“I’m sorry we didn’t watch the one you wanted,” you apologise yet again, kicking at the footpath sadly with your hands folded behind your back. The movie you begged profusely to see was definitely not at all what you thought it’d be and now, regretful, you realise that maybe that comedic drama Jaemin originally took you out for might’ve been the better option.

“I already told you to not be,” he groans playfully, knocking his shoulder into your own until you stumble at the edge of the footpath, toeing onto the road before hopping back up to push him aside in retaliation.

“I wasted your time though,” you sigh, solemn again. The sound on Jaemin’s feet on cement pause and you look up from your own shoes to see him standing behind you, arms crossed and lips in a pout. You rush to explain yourself, panicked by his displeasing expression, “we just don’t know when you’re going to be free next so the only time we had was used stupidly…”

Jaemin stands stoic, unmoving, until you slow yourself down and he softens at your shy purse of lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he begins, moving into your personal space with a reassuring tug of lips, murmuring, “any time spent with you is enjoyable, I love being with you, don’t ever feel guilty, okay?”

You worry at your lip, eyes darting around the cinema’s screens to observe every other movie’s showing times. Jaemin frowns even deeper at this, taking your silence badly and brushing a delicate thumb down your jaw to grab your attention.

Holding eye contact, stare holding so much intent, Jaemin repeats, “okay?”

A shaky sigh runs out your chest but Jaemin is pleased, dropping his hand to grin down at you encouragingly, patient. “Okay,” you chuckle, awkward but just as happy with yourself as he is.

“Now let’s go to the arcade, I’m not done with you yet.”

Physical Touch

Jaemin loves to touch everyone. His friends, family, strangers, and especially you. It’s his encouraging pats on the backs in place of ‘good job’, his hugs that make you forget the entirety of anything that isn’t his hold. It’s his delicate kisses on the cheek that light up anyone’s mood, teasing yet loving all the same. His hands are always everywhere, it’s always weird to see Jaemin on his own, not connected with another.

His hands are always wandering, finding home on any bareskin they can find, bare or under fabric. The touch is warm most days, other than when it’s dry and cold outside, his fingertips taking on the temperature, but otherwise Jaemin’s hands are clammy and rough, padding against your skin gently.

“Hey!” Jaemin yells, kicking at Donghyuck, who had slid into the seat next to you right before your boyfriend could. They bicker over the spot, pushing at one another like children until Renjun cuts them off in annoyance, shoving the youngest to the front seat with a curt glare.

“It’s okay, Nana,” you pout, leaning toward the passenger seat with a reassuring smile. Your fingers tug at his sleeve lovingly, twirling the fabric around your thumb and watching it fall loose before Jeno politely asks you to buckle up already. “We can sit together on the way back.”

There wasn’t anything to be lost, his shoulder is probably cramped from reaching into the backseat the entire car trip, holding onto your own outstretched hand or your ankle, fingers dipping into the cuff of your jeans tenderly. Only thing more he needed was to lay on your shoulder on the drive home.

Kisses of all kinds are Jaemin’s thing, he puckers his lips, all ugly and chapped, before leaning in with mischievous eyes to pepper any surface of skin with kisses. It’s especially dreadful when he’s just gotten his makeup done, tacky lip tints and glosses pressing marks of pink and glitter.

“Y/n! Come here,” Jaemin waves his hands at you, calling you over to his vanity in the waiting room as the details of his hair get fixed for the second performance recording. His skin gleams grossly with sweat but he smiles so purely with so much affection that you can’t help but approach the man with a mirrored look of adoration. It’s hard to not ruffle his hair when he peers up at you cutely, the stylist pulling away until his head is facing the right way again.

You think of complimenting his performance but bite your tongue. Today isn’t a praising sort of day for you and Jaemin. “What’s up,” you reply off handedly, tapping Jeno on the arm as he walks by to send the other man a thumbs up. He receives the gesture with a curt nod before going to get his own clothes fixed up.

Jaemin clicks his tongue and reaches for your hand, your fingertips now mildly damp from Jeno’s own sweat, before pulling it up to his lips to place a small, sticky kiss. A small line is left on your knuckles, sheer red with silver glitter, and you cringe at the sight, internally melting at his sudden affections. Your boyfriend’s lips tug up proudly before his hand weaves into yours silently, humming along to their song that plays in the background as your locked fingers settle on the arm of his chair.

Renjun steals Jaemin’s attention from across the room but his thumb rubs along your pointer, gentle and present.

street racers! nct dream

*please don’t street race lol it is very illegal and dangerous.

mark:

• the definition of friendly competition.
• random but he prefers circuit courses
• a polite winner but internally lovesdestroying his competition
• winning by a landslide is so much more fun for him than the close call of racing to the end side by side
• has a really dumb name for his car that all his friends clown him for but it’s endearing so whatever
• cleans and repairs his own car (mechanic…. mark lee…. checking the bonnet…. on a hot… day… in a white… shirt…. and…. rolled up… sleeves…)
• cupholders filled with coins lolol
• always a good handshake at the end of a race
• does not, absolutely refuses, to drive on wet days. no rainy races for mark.
• races in his pyjamas sometimes
• lost his first and only high stakes race and hasn’t done a large bet ever since. only person that could maybe push him to that edge again is chenle.
• knows how to dirtbike too

renjun:

• loves the sound of revving engines, the initial start is his favourite part of the race.
• cocky asshole; drives into the finish line slowly if his competition is far behind.
• sees jeno as his rival and thrives on challenging him
• actually a very chill and civilised driver when he isn’t racing. races flip a competitive switch in his head.
• a cheater, your honour.
• loves drifting into alternative roads and routes for shortcuts just to confuse the other racer
• prefers group races rather than 1v1
• the dickhead that ditches everyone as soon as there’s a police threat. he’s gone by the time everyone’s shut their doors.
• hehe, i can see him choosing an item of clothing to match whatever paint job his car currently has. fashionable and speedy.
• sarcastic when he wins
• renjun puffs out in exhilaration, fingers brushing back the hair in his eyes, “i mean, you weren’t too far behind. step on the gas a little harder and maybe you’ll lose by 20 seconds instead of 40.”

jeno:

• drives a ford muscle car
• personal races with yellow lights to just pass it before it turns red. depending on his mood he’ll either run the red light or get super pouty about it when he slows down
• prefers night races
• manual driver… mmmm… <3
• favourite part is the police chase. in the moment his mind goes completely blank but he loves the thrill of swerving traffic.
• always has someone in his passenger seat for the fun of it. maybe a hookup, someone cute from the audience, jaemin because besties support besties.
• such a good winner/loser, always smiling after a race no matter how it turned out and asking for another race if he liked the other person.
• except for when the one dude swerved into his lane a little bit too suddenly for his comfort.
• usually just lets his friends hype him up while he gets ready to race
• was the one who taught haechan burnouts

jaemin:

• largest collection of cars out of all the boys
• is a nerd for tyres. studies his racing sites to know what tread patterns are most efficient. rim is always absolutely spotless and shining.
• has a specific air freshener he hangs as a good luck charm
• loves picking people from the crowd to start the race, like they’re his own personal flag girl/boy for the day
• custom car mats hehehe
• a very underrated driver, not known in the scene to be really really good but he’s definitely scary competition
• thinks scheduled races are kinda stupid, has more fun with spontaneous challenges from chenle or haechan, but takes it up if there’s a large prize
• challenging and cocky smile to the other driver just before the race starts, sends a wink if he thinks they’re cute.
• is an absolute whore for police chases, the ring of sirens and flashing lights behind him is so exhilarating. especially when he gets caught speeding during a race; avoid the police and crush the other racer? easy competition

haechan:

• petty argument? beat him at a street race or you’re wrong.
• not a sore loser but absolutely does hold a grudge. mental noting of wins and losses with every person.
• a total dork for burnouts and donuts
• basically just a show off. it’s not all bark though, he’s good behind the wheel and he knows it.
• signs his competition’s car when he wins like an absolute dickhead. he doesn’t tell them but it’s like his signature by now so people expect it.
• starts little races with strangers on the freeway or red lights, whether or not they know about it, he just needs to be faster than them.
• the best at shit talking, either to throw off the others or just work them up.
• has a specific set of rules and only races with those rules. super strict on everyone else following them but definitely breaks a few if he knows he can get away with it to win
• changes car paint when he gets pissed from losing
• when he first started racing, he messed with the other car’s tyres until he landed a black eye and learnt to just race fairly
• “id obviously beat them whether or not i touched the thing, it’s just cute to see them all angry and confused.”

chenle:

• lives for drifting.
• road skid marks are his guilty pleasure.
• that and round-a-bouts lol
• so obnoxious, plays music on full blast with his windows rolled down. it makes him feel cooler when he wins.
• loves his car to bits but is so awful at taking care of it. he has to go get it repaired and inspected after every race.
• basically a reckless driver
• taeil is chenle’s mechanic
• its a white luxury car with butterfly doors.
• whether or not he loses, definitely a double or nothing person. thrives on the high risk, high reward gamble of racing.
• if his competition works him up enough, he’ll bet on their car just for the high stakes. absolutely does not need or want a second car, just thrilling.
• “keep the thing,” he teases, shrugging off his jacket with a grin, “just wanted to scare you.”

jisung:

• i dont know how but he’s the most cocky yet humble one. maybe he’s just really shy about his skills.
• absolutely so annoying. lies and randomly shouts that authorities are coming when they are absolutely not.
• the typical movie type pose of leaning against his car with his arms crossed and a stupid playful smile.
• bumper sticker baby hehe
• not too well known but definitely leaves an impression when he absolutely and unexpectedly destroys them
• very dejected when he loses, works himself up and asks for an all or nothing lap
• chenle is the best with indulging his sore losses, always raising the stakes until jisung calls chenle a fucking idiot for betting something so outrageous.
• probably drives some sort of convertible because he thought it looked cool and likes the feeling of the wind
• gets so very flustered when the anyone flirts with him before/after the race because huh? he’s here to race but oh my god they are kind of cute too.
• tinted windows
• asks jeno to race him when he’s bored because chenle always gets too competitive
• complains about gas prices but always leaves his car on for the show of it
• interior has led lights

“can we run?” you whisper, voice soft with fingers gripping jeno’s wrist in a bruising hold.

“away?” he asks, already knowing the answer. feels the need to confirm for his own comfort he supposes, perhaps he hopes for a no this time.

you nod, and cut him off before he says what he always does, “i know you can’t just leave everything behind here but i can’t stay here anymore. i have nothing to want but an escape.”

“but here you have me.”

he’s not wrong, your boyfriend has been your shoulder to lean on for the last few years, watching as this life consumes everything you have to offer until you’re nothing but tired. maybe it’s a bit dumb of you, jeno probably thinks so, to find the idea of leaving so romantic, to start from scratch and leave everything behind, see the sky from a different angle, but there’s no stopping your wildest dreams.

“jeno,” you sigh, fingers loosening ever so slightly with a guilty inhale, “that isn’t going to be enough forever.”

you can practically hear the blood pause in his veins, his eyes blinking stupidly as he processes what you’ve just said. you rush to slap on the bandaid, “i love you. i really do love you so much. you’ve been the best and so much more than enough since ive known you. you aren’t disappointing me at all. im just not satisfied with where i am right now and…”

it’s all just gibberish, summed up with a burning ‘its me, not you’ in jeno’s head. your words are met with distant attention, your boyfriend left to wonder if this is heartbreak that he’s feeling right now.

“…and if it means-” you cut yourself off, moving yourself from jeno completely to avoid this being anymore hurtful than it already is, “-if it means i have to leave you behind then im sorry to say goodbye.”

bet! | lee jeno.

summary. it was bound to bite both your asses eventually. just plain ‘ol comedic luck that you and your best friend’s shared tradition of petty bets get you two to finally cough up years of repressed feelings for one another. 

pairing. y/n x nct’s jeno

genre. college!au, best friends to lovers!au

word count.17k

warnings.swearing,fem!reader, underage drinking, emotional constipation lmao, hyuck and yeri hustle often, general dreamies tomfoolery, hyuck and nana are like dumb and dumber, honestly just super chaotic since it’s slice of life :)

taglist.@donutswithjaminthemiddle@dvickyyy@jenosbliss@matryoooshka@luvenshiti@nap-of-a-starr@dojun00@nctdom@yangsbff @bockhyun

i feel like i did a pretty bad job rounding this fic up, my bad… still hope this lives up to the hype from the teaser! to those tagged, many hugs and kisses!! tysm for the interest <3

also biggest thank you to yunn aka @kdyism for being my beta reader and just being super helpful on absolutely everything for this fic! it def got finished faster bc of ya, much love bun :3

“WAS HE DROPPED on the head when he was a kid?” 

You can’t help the snort that passes your lips, making a satisfying slap to Jeno’s arm. “Don’t be mean.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” Jeno raises an eyebrow.

“Eh… maybe like once or twice. Not that I would know, I was the same age as him but I’m just guessing.” 

You two continue to watch the disaster in front of you befold. Hyuck was currently bothering Yeri. Apparently, he didn’t know the limits as to when to stop because the older senior’s ears are burning red. You’re sure if you were in a cartoon right now, Yeri would have smoke coming out of them, nostrils flaring. 

“Should we intervene?” You side-eye Jeno and he’s the least bit concerned, eyes blearily watching the soon-to-be wreck happen in slow motion, cheek squished against his palm. 

“Nah. This is way more entertaining than continuing my stats homework.” 

You peer over his notebook and he has the word problem and equation written down. Humming, you bring your attention back to the stars of the show and see Yeri grip her notebook tighter, knuckles going white. 

“Here we go.” You sing, Hyuck’s screams of protest soon alerting everyone in the campus plaza of his pain. 

“He never learns his lesson, huh?” Renjun finally joins, his boots making the fall leaves on the ground crunch. Throwing his book bag on the table, it scrunches Jeno’s current page in his statistics work but the latter doesn’t care. 

The two of you nod simultaneously. You and Jeno halfheartedly discouraged Hyuck from going to poke at Yeri around five minutes ago, soon after the three of you had sat down at your usual spot under the only weeping willow tree on campus. It was honestly impressive how quickly your mutual friend could annoy someone so quickly. 

“We should time him next. See how long it takes for Yeri to lash out at him next.” You mutter the idea, Jeno pursing his lips after the two shift left and right around Yeri and company’s picnic table, a textbook held high in Yeri’s nimble fingers. Wendy and Seulgi are ducking as Irene begins trying to stop the madness, scolding Joy for cheering on their youngest.

“Not a bad idea to be honest. Bet?” Jeno grins and you shake on his hand without looking at him. 

“Bet.”

It was just getting good. Hyuck doesn’t have the endurance to continue but Yeri does. Pilates has done her well. 

Renjun quirks an eyebrow, pulling out his laptop as an apple slice is shoved into the corner of his mouth. “You don’t even know the conditions of the bet yet.” 

You shrug, thoroughly entertained as Hyuck sits on his knees, his hands rubbing together furiously as he begs for mercy. “Next time, he gets Yeri to go after him in under two minutes.” 

“I say three.” Jeno nods and he offers a hand again which you shake. 

“You underestimate that little lady’s body. She can hold a lot of anger.” 

Jeno hums in response, ending the conversation quickly as Hyuck stumbles his way over, a pout sat on his lips. The well-beaten idiot rubs at his forearms, mumbling curses under his breath as he plops down beside Renjun. 

“Didn’t end well, did it bud?”

At the smug expression you have plastered on, Hyuck’s pout deepens. “It’s not funny. I need her to partner with me in Psych. I’ll go fucking crazy if I actually have to work with Felix.” 

“Felix’s a sweetheart. I don’t know why you have it out for him.” 

Hyuck rolls his eyes, running his hands through the ruffled brown strands. Yeri managed to grab a bunch of pine needles and aim correctly enough, even with the air resistance the leaves have. 

Renjun beside him plucks a long green one out the battered boy who’s seated beside him, slouched over on the picnic table. “You can’t have two eggheads who don’t pay attention in class paired together. Isn’t that so, Hyuck?” Renjun baby-voices, the latter placing his chin on his stacked wrists to glare. 

“Somebody’s cranky.” Chenle swings by, a childish smirk gracing everybody’s presence. 

“It’s justified.” Hyuck huffs, turning away from the new arrival. You scoot over, bumping into Jeno’s large body to allow Chenle to sit. 

“Why are you so meaty nowadays? Take a break from the gym, will you? We can barely fit eight people at this table as it is.” There’s playful malice in your voice but a little truth in there. The asshole was getting too bulky for your liking. 

“Ohplease. Mark hardly swings by for lunch with us anymore. And why by chance are you bothered by me bulking up?” Jeno leans closer, eyes impossibly close to yours, “Are you swooning yet?” 

Ignoring your heart racing faster, you slap a palm to his forehead, pushing Jeno further away from your face. “No, I’m sick of these freshies asking me for your number, that’s why. You want to know how many have asked for your digits indirectly through me this entire week?” 

Chenle and Renjun have suddenly started bickering about something and you have to raise your voice a little. 

“Five.Fivepeople. Four girls and one guy. I’d be proud of you if it weren’t for the annoyance starting to kick in.” Jeno raises his eyebrows at the number, finally flattening down his stats paper. 

“And what’d you tell ‘em?” Jeno bites distractedly at the cap of his pen, seeming to hit the realization his work has to get done by midnight. 

“That they should ask you themselves,” You’re rolling your eyes, nudging at Chenle to back off on his squishing, practically half his body across the table to try and snatch at Renjun’s sliced apples, “I’m kind of sick of your posse trying to scour me for your personal information.” 

“Get your own, dingus! We get our rations per month at the commons!”

“I’m not giving up a precious coupon just to get one apple slice, come on!” 

“Tell them to stop then.” Jeno tries to solve.

You laugh incredulously, watching Jeno’s concentrated (confused more like) side profile. “You think that deters them? They regenerate into different people every week. The message is not passed on from generation to generation apparently.” 

Jeno makes that endearing ‘huH?’ sound and you grab at the notebook yourself, having taken Statistics 101 before. He thanks you under his breath, which you nod at before Jeno slumps onto your shoulder, sighing heavily. 

“Sorry. I know it bothers you. I would go around and tell them to back off of you and me personally but I don’t know all their names.”

Glancing at Jeno, it irritates you helplessly that you know he’s not even trying to sound dickish. He’s just that sweet and kind of a guy that makes other people not want to talk to him and ask those types of questions themselves. You know those people that seem too perfect to want to approach? Yeah, that’s Lee Jeno in a nutshell. If you looked up the definition of that type of person in a book, Jeno would be grinning that Samoyed smile of his from on that cursed page. 

“I should tape a sign to my back that says, ‘Ask Lee Jeno himself. I’m not his personal owl,’” You peek at his face, “What do you think?” 

He slightly smiles, eyes crinkling almost shut even at such a small gesture of amusement. “Okay. I’ll add my signature to it so that they know it’s approved by yours truly.” He looks up to your face and you’re glad the cold can disguise your flustered face easily with this type of weather. 

Guess it’s time to actually settle this officially since it’s been clued at a little, but yes: You do have a crush on Jeno. And no, he does not know because when does telling one of your best friends’ that you’ve been crushing on them ever worked out? 

No, not in the Wattpad story kind of way, you mean trulyworked out. Because personally, you’ve never heard of it working out ever, especially since you’re practically in the you’ve-seen-him-in-his-boxers and he’s-seen-you-shirtless stage of friendship. Don’t ask, it’s a long story that’s already too long for this kind of boring read. 

So,no, you will not take your chances, thank you very much. There were many signs flashing neon that told you Jeno didn’t see you in a romantic or sexual kind of way but the glaringly obvious sign was actually the one you two are discussing currently. 

What’s the appropriate way of acting if your crush is being berated by other peers on campus to give them your number? You’re not confident in what it actually looks like because for one, you’re not on the receiving end in this imaginaryscenario, and two, it’s exactly that; an imaginary scenario. You can’t even seriously dream of Jeno liking you if you could. It was just that bizarre. 

In the two years you’ve known the boy, he’s never even once mentioned another human being that he could potentially be interested in on campus. It’s not a problem of him not being comfortable telling you either because he’s told you upright that he’s not interested in anybody here (including you who’s enrolled in this stupid university). You’ve even nonchalantly asked Jaemin before and he’s confirmed that even in high school, this kid did not have wandering eyes. 

You had wondered if Jeno was asexual, aromantic, or something along that line in the spectrum, eventually having the courage to ask him one day and he shook his head no quite confidently, a small smile laid on his lips. 

You don’t know what Jeno’s deal was but the risks in finding out really didn’t lean in your favor. And that’s fine, considering how many fish are available on Earth’s wide sea of potential mates. You’ve killed off even the chance of dating Jeno and that’s all good in your book. You’ve been attracted to your guy friends once and twice and they faded away with time exploring their weird quirks or horrible habits. And even if Jeno was a strange case where you’ve even seen the dude have beer dripping from his nostrils from a shitty keg stand and you still manage to harbor feelings for him… eh. 

Time brushes away a lot of problems if you’re desperate and willing enough. Luckily for you, you checked off both boxes easily with this special instance. 

You open your laptop and scour your documents for your old stats notes on chi-square tests. Bleh.

Pretending to gag in your mouth at the sight, Jeno smothers a laugh that shakes your shoulder and you share the document his way before scrolling and finding the right topic. You do the problem with few difficulties and write a quick message in the corner of his notebook page. 

‘Actually study this because Y/N did the example and took time from her day to do so, thank you.’

“Thanks,” Jeno chirps as he takes his notebook back, removing himself from your shoulder (to your well-hidden disappointment), “I owe you one.” 

“You’re right. A coffee works just fine, thank you.” You pipe back, folding your hands on the table cheerily. Jeno is shaking his head in mock annoyance but you knew the next time you two meet, you would not be disheartened, a warm cup pressed in hand. 

“A four-dollar coffee is worth one solved problem in your book?” Jeno argues. 

You fire back without hesitation. “It’s statistics. And I just sent two semesters’ worth of notes to you. You’re very welcome.” 

“You’re right,” Jeno turns, stowing his notebook away, “That’s like seven coffees then.” 

“And a scone if you’re feeling nice. A croissant works too.” You beam. 

“Now you’re pushing it. Those things are stupidly overpriced.” 

“Even for me?” You playfully place your chin in your cupped hands, blinking slowly and looking through your lashes. 

Jeno sighs, placing a hand on your head of hair. “Fine. You win, you spoiled princess.” 

In times like these, you knew you really asked to be put in these types of situations. And you’re not one to start being a saint and stop being hypocritical but… you deserved what you were putting yourself through, saying these types of things and teasing like this. Trying to get a stir and playact with being more. 

Maybe it was a little cruel, somewhat tricking Jeno into saying sweet things to you, just to let your mind wander for a second. Call it… taking advantage of his friendship to pretend a little. Harmless but still adds into your ledger of sins for Judgment Day right? 

“Why are Jisung and Jaemin taking so long? I’m running out of apples.” Renjun whines, looking at the bag that’s been emptied. You’re almost one hundred percent sure it was the two other hungry animals sitting at this table and you weren’t even listening to their argument earlier. 

“They’re carrying seven people’s worth of food. I think that warrants a little patience.” 

“I wouldn’t be nearly upset if these two idiots didn’t steal myapples.” Renjun spits out, glaring. The two culprits wholly ignore the oldest. 

A whole two minutes later, Jaemin and Jisung arrive, lugging four plastic bags of takeout. Jisung’s thin arms are shaking with the effort to hold them, Hyuck getting up to relieve him. 

“Wah, took you two long enough. Thanks for losing the bet last week.” Chenle slaps a hand to Jisung’s heaving back. 

“We just walked… half a mile carrying all this.” Jisung breathlessly collapses beside Hyuck, bent over with his hands on his knees. 

“Why didn’t you take Jaemin’s car?” Jeno mumbles around his hamburger. 

Jaemin laughs, out of breath as well. “I left my fucking car at Yangyang’s from Friday. I didn’t even remember until today because I can walk to my Monday classes.” 

“What the fuck did you do without a car on the weekend?” Hyuck wonders, chipmunk cheeks stuffed full of fries. 

Jaemin makes a suggestive face and everybody recoils, not willing to be curious anymore. The culprit laughs airily. “Why are you all assuming bad things right now?” 

“You didn’t go crawling back to Eunji or something, right?” Hyuck squints, “Because I saw you talking to her that night and that would be pathetic to hear about right now—”

“No, I’m not that kind of asshole—”

“At least you can acknowledge you are one…” Jisung comments under his breath. 

“I simply asked her how she was doing. It was completely innocent,” Nana’s wide bunny eyes scan the table, “Really! I conked out in Hendery’s room after the party.” 

“And just so happened to leave your car at Yang’s which is directlyacross from Eunji’s dorm—” Hyuck continues before Jaemin cuts him off with a scoff. 

“Again. Not that kind of an asshole. Besides, if you had looked closer Hyuck, we were civil Friday night. I doubt she would ever let me get near her that way again… except for maybe with a baseball bat.” 

The table stifles laughs at that, chowing down the food. Everyone murmurs a quick thanks halfway through every food item getting demolished.

“Can you even afford this Jisung?” You mention on second thought, considering the younger boy sat diagonally from you.

“Jaemin owed me too so he paid for everything.” 

“Man, you just rack them up, don’t you?” Jeno pityingly looks over to his best friend at the end of the table. 

He shrugs, not all that bothered. “I’ll eventually learn my lesson, right?” 

“Not if you keep agreeing to our daily bets, stupid.” Chenle quips past his tenders, shoulders shaking in mirth. 

“That’s true. You walk right into them when we bring it up.” Renjun supports. 

“You should be glad you’re never around to accept Ten’s though. I like to think you would fall for them easily.” You crunch at Chenle’s fries, the younger boy not noticing your swiping. 

“What do his bets look like?” 

“Skinny dipping. Egging houses. And occasionally, seven minutes in heaven.” Jisung answers for you, which you backtrack at. In fact, everybody does. 

Hyuck blinks owlishly at him. “What?” 

“How do you know these things, kid? Spill.” You threaten with a long fry of Chenle’s, the soggy potato cut flopping as time goes by. 

“You’ve never seen me at Ten’s?” Jisung spills. Everyone gapes. 

“Why the fuckwould we see you at Ten’s!?” Hyuck laughs in disbelief, hilarity at the situation peeking at the twinkle in his eyes. 

“Yeah, what the heck? Why am Inever invited?” Chenle sulks.

Jeno scoffs. “Because you two are freshmen, that’s why.”

“What are you, fucking Casper the ghost in the corner? How come we’ve never seen you?” Nana is skeptical as well, the only one upset that his baby freshie has managed to sneak into an upperclassmen party. 

“Johnny invites me sometimes. When he remembers.” Jisung shrinks at all the attention, nervous with the sudden interrogation. 

“Johnny is a bad influence,” Jaemin argues with a fold of his arms. 

“Like you’re any better, Nana.” You laugh, bringing an arm around Jaemin to offer comfort. You don’t see Jeno shift at the contact. 

“And you don’t take part in the bets, do you?” Renjun implores before he shakes his head, “Wait, no, I definitely would have heard of Jisung having seven minutes in heaven with someone.”

“Oh,no. I’m not insane,” Jisung shivers at the thought. “It’s fun to watch Taeil go crazy though.” 

Hyuck slaps a hand to Jisung’s back, the latter wincing at the battering his body is taking today. “Welcome to the real deal, man! My god, why did I not know you came to upperclassmen parties? You sneak in sometimes?” 

“What? No! Do I look even close to a sophomore to you?” Jisung looks to make a point, gesturing towards himself. “There’s your answer.” 

“I think Johnny favors you then. He has a soft heart for freshies, who knew?”

“Where is my invite then?” Chenle whines, still sulking. 

“I’ll take you as my plus one.” Jisung placates his best friend with that and he continues to happily chew on his cheeseburger. 

“When’s his next one? Oh, I can’t wait to see how Jisung acts wasted.” Hyuck wiggles in his seat, giggling like a happy toddler. 

“Oh no, noton my watch. Baby Jisungie is not getting wasted at any party, ever.” Jaemin acts tough, glaring at the youngest of the group. 

“Oh, please Grandpa. You didn’t even realize I was present at these until I just told everyone.” 

Nana bursts at that, screeching a scolding noise that startles a pair of girls walking by. “Because I never even expectedyou to be at one! That’s why!” 

Jaemin looks to you, eyes wide. “My baby chick. At an upperclassmenparty.” 

Giggling, you push at his jaw to turn his gaze towards Jisung again. “Jisung’s got a fair point. Who are you to stop him?” 

“I never get wasted anyway. I just come to watch the chaos.” Jisung grins, munching on his chicken tenders like Chenle. As you watch longer, you understand why Nana babies the youngest so much. He’s cute in moderation and it looks easy to want to mother him. 

“Whatever,” Nana grumbles, “Guess I have to watch out at parties and babysit now.” 

“Oh,pleasedon’t.” Jisung’s face scrunches up.

“This Saturday. You coming, Jisung?” Hyuck grills, pocketing his phone which you didn’t even realize he pulled out to text presumably Johnny or Ten. 

“I guess… if Johnny asks me.” Jisung drags out, glancing at Hyuck. 

“This sounds like a disaster now that everybody knows.” Renjun leans across to whisper to you and Jeno. 

“You two should come to watch the shitshow with me,” You grin, wiggling your eyebrows, “I know you two usually don’t come but sometimes they can be fun.” 

“I don’t wanna drink to have fun.” Renjun wrinkles his nose at that. 

Waving a hand at that, you offer a tip, “Just fill your cup with a liquid. Nobody is sober enough to check you like a cop.” 

Jeno hums at that, Renjun saying that he’ll think about it. Hyuck pockets his phone once again, having pulled it out to ask about Jisung.

“You got the go-ahead, dude. Ready to party with the big boys?” Hyuck wrestles Jisung’s long neck into the crook of his elbow as the younger boy cringes. 

“I don’t know about thatbut…” 

Jaemin stands up dramatically, slapping both hands on the table. Your cup of soda spills a little when it knocks over, Jeno cursing as the two of you rush to correct the drink’s position. 

“Oh,noton my watch, you won’t!”

The table is quiet, absorbing Nana’s usual dramatics. 

Chenle raises his hand a little. “I’m going too, right?” 

|—————|

It took a little more convincing for Renjun to come. You and Jeno usually like to watch havoc together, pure rapture and popcorn shared between you two. You seriously considered bringing the movie snack to the party but in the end, was unconvinced by the others. Using the microwave at a frat party didn’t seem so smart, especially if your attention dragged away and someone nagged the bag from the microwave before you could notice. Would just be a waste of popcorn. 

Jeno and Renjun swing by your dorm building, waiting outside in the cold for a minute or so before you pop out. 

You shiver, pulling at your black jean jacket. “How many more layers do I have to put on to not be cold?” 

Renjun shakes his head, observing your legs. “You’re wearing thin ass tights, Y/N, what were you expecting?” 

Teeth chattering, the three of you begin to walk to the 127 house. “Jokes on you, I’m wearing leggings underneath. These are fake tights with fleece in them.” 

“Why are you so cold all the time? Is your body just that weak?” Jeno genuinely queries, your black skirt flying a little too high with the current wind for his comfort. He slows to walk behind you, conscious of the nonexistent people on the deserted streets looking.

“Yeah, you’re actually shaking. Do you wanna turn back to change?” Renjun offers kindly and you shake your head, committed. 

“I look cute right now. Fashion sacrifices, am I right?” You grin impishly, eyeing your company’s outfits. 

Following your act of observing everybody’s clothing choices for tonight, Renjun laughs at all three of your different fashion senses. “We look ridiculous walking together right now.” 

Jeno peeps up from the back of the two of you leading the way. “How? I think we look fine.” 

You hum in agreement. “We look like college students going to a party.” 

A bark of laughter escapes Renjun’s mouth, tugging at Jeno’s jacket zipper. “Yeah, three differentparties. Jeno looks like he’s about to rob a store. Y/N looks like a grunge girl and I look like I’m heading to the fucking library.” 

He’s not that wrong. Jeno’s wearing all black, cargo pants, tee, chunky boots, and zip-up hiding his good figure in the darkness of his clothes. A navy blue cardigan covers Renjun, wearing similar beat-up Converse to you, with a white tee and light blue jeans. Looking down at your own outfit, you pluck a piece of lint off your gray sweater. 

“But we all look great. Killing the fashion game. Fabulous.” You strut forward with confidence, the other two amused at your antics. 

The 127 frat house lays ahead and you speed up to get out of the cold. Mark greets you with a hug and shout of happiness. You can smell the alcohol reeking his breath and the entire vicinity already. The floor bumps beneath your feet, everyone else in the building bobbing their head to the beat. 

“Hi, Y/N! Oh shit, what?” Mark calls out to Jeno and Renjun, dapping them up as his Solo cup dangerously leers to the left. You hurriedly correct it in his hold, not willing to get beer stains on your nice clothes this early into the night. 

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Mark shouts down to you, a dopey grin implanted on his expression, “You convinced them to come for once?!” 

“I know, right? It’s a rare occasion tonight!” You yell back, a contagious smile growing on you at Mark’s infectious mood. 

Jeno leans closer to break your close proximity to Mark, “Hyuck is gonna get Jisung to let loose. Seems like a good disaster to watch unfold.” 

Mark shakes his head fondly at that, grabbing a hold of Renjun’s shoulder and leading all three of you into the kitchen. It’s crowded with humid heat, too many bodies in one room for comfort. 

“Grab a drink and toss any cups just laying around, please. I gotta get back to door duty but have fun!” Mark sings, planting a brave wet kiss to your forehead in goodbye before he’s off, shoving to the front of the house again. 

You wipe at your forehead, deciding to make fun of sober Mark for this innocent kiss later. Jeno bristles at the sight, grabbing three red cups and pulling out the unopened liter of Coca-Cola in the back of the line of sodas. 

Renjun holds the three cups gladly, there being no counter space to easily maneuver for pouring, before passing on the beverage to you. You press your cup to the ice machine and grimace as no ice chunks come flying into your cup. 

“Lukewarm Coke it is.” You toast the other three, clinking your Solo cups together before sipping. Getting out of the small kitchen, your eyes scan the crowd. 

“See Jisung, Chen, or Hyuck anywhere?” Renjun queries, yelling over the thumping bass. You climb onto the step bar of a stool someone’s currently sitting on, placing a hand on Jeno’s shoulder for support. The height lets you look over the big jumble of people in the large living room, not noticing any familiar heads.

“I see Jungwoo. Maybe he knows.” Jeno calls out, before stepping into the mass of moving bodies. He abandons the two of you for a total of thirty seconds before dragging not one, but two of the 127 boys over. 

Doyoung gives a quick side hug, shoving at Jungwoo who comes to lift you off your feet. You make an impact sound at the tall puppy’s strength, patting at his arm to let you down. 

Jungwoo’s blonde head of hair is all mussed up and you brush at the strands, laughing. “How much have you had to drink already?” 

“A good, healthy amount! I’m on water for the rest of the night!” Jungwoo happily confesses with a thumbs up, all his perfect white teeth on display. 

“You two know where Hyuck is?” Renjun bellows. 

Jeno adds on, “Or Jisung! We’re here for them!” 

Doyoung makes a pulled face at that, Jungwoo bending over in laughter. “What!? Jisung is here?” 

The younger of the two frat boys begin darting over the crowd, trying to locate the tall beanstalk. 

“What would Jisung be doing here?” Doyoung is puzzled, a little concern crawling into his expression. 

“Apparently all Johnny’s doing. Or Hyuck’s, we don’t know at this point.” Jeno shrugs. 

“We’re here for the shitshow to commence!” You revealed a little too happily, Doyoung making a forced smile. 

“I don’t know anything about this. Johnny’s DJing right now! You can go ask him though.” He points to the far back of the living room. The black-haired senior is head bobbing to the music, a set of headphones half on his head as he waves his gigantic arms around. 

You giggle nervously at the obstacle between you and reaching him. “Oh hell no,” You push at Jeno’s arm, “This tough guy is going to go ask for us.” 

Doyoung cradles his favorite underclassman by the neck and joins him in his journey to the front. Jungwoo’s a little ways away, dancing wildly. Renjun laughs at the sight, bringing your attention to the silly junior. 

“I dare you to join him.” You challenge playfully, and Renjun shakes his head adamantly. 

“Fuckno! You think I dance at these parties?!” 

“If you have alcohol in you, anyone can dance!” You try to convince Renjun, pulling his lips down. 

“Good thing I’m not drinking tonight then!” 

Jungwoo gets swept out into the dance floor again, not allowing the three of you to converse more before Jaemin joins the two of you out of seemingly nowhere. He cheers at the sight, ruffling Renjun’s well-styled hair, much to the older boy’s disappointment. 

Jaemin grasps at your opposite shoulder, leaning on your head to heave some of his dead weight. 

You nudge his side, Nana yelping at the contact. “You know where Jisung is?” 

Nana widens his eyes at your question, suddenly remembering his self-proposed babysitting job. 

“Ohshit!I forgot! Where is that idiot?” Jaemin gasps, helplessly looking around. 

“Trust me, we’ve been trying to navigate this mess for ten minutes since we’ve arrived. Just wait here with us!” Renjun pulls at Jaemin’s belt loop, yanking the same-birth-year boy back into your talking circle. 

Jeno arrives a minute later, lugging a slouching Jisung on his back. Hyuck is laughing his ass off, pushing the hair off of Jisung’s forehead to catch the youngest’s drunk face better. 

Jeno practically throws Jisung on the now-available stool this stranger just gave up, blowing out a breath of relief. “This kid is way heavier than he looks!” Jeno complains.

Hyuck is still dying of laughter and you and Renjun can’t help but follow in line as Jisung groans, pulling at Jeno’s waist to cuddle him. The latter is halfway between uncomfortable and endeared at Jisung’s affectionate behavior, who’s mumbling nonsense. 

“Jesus, why did he drink so much?” Jaemin worries, patting his baby chick’s head. 

“Dude, I didn’t even need to say anything! Chenle is the bad influence here, not me!” Hyuck throws his hands up at Nana’s deadly glare. As if on cue, the second youngest of your friend group gathers everybody’s attention in the crowd, pulling 127 boy Jaehyun on the table he’s standing on to make a speech. 

“There’snodamn way…” You whistle at the sight, Jaehyun patting the underclass man in pride. 

Jisung mumbles something into Jeno’s stomach and the older boy leans down to hear him better.

“Hm… w-wanna go… home…” Jisung hiccups, eyes barely open and Jeno nods.

“I better bring this idiot home. I’ll probably have to sneak his dumb ass past the RA, I’ll be right back.” Jeno grunts as he wraps Jisung’s long arms around his neck, practically carrying the beanstalk like a backpack. 

“It’s okay, I’ll do it!” Nana rushes to switch off with Jisung’s dead weight. He groans, looking to Jeno with a grimace. “Ugh, you were right. He is a lot heavier than he looks.” 

“Are you sure? I can help?” Jeno halfheartedly makes sure, to which Jaemin nods resolutely. 

“I need some fresh air anyways, been here too long!”

“Do you want me to go with you?” You offer, only because you knew sneaking around the RA would manage to get rowdy with just the two of them alone. 

“Nah, it’s okay. I better have a drink after getting back from this though.” Nana jokes and you shove the pair towards the door. 

Jeno stuffs his hands into his pockets, low-key relieved that he doesn’t have to go back into the cold night. He had just gotten here and despite how disgusting it was thinking about how much heat was being produced, it was better than freezing outside. 

“There’s our entertainment for the night.” Renjun lifts his cup in salute. 

Hyuck nudges everyone to watch Chenle though, who wants to crowd surf but fails to, nobody willing to hold him up. Everyone starts cackling at the sight, peers practically making space so that Chenle won’t be convinced to just commit and dive onto them. 

“Up for a game of beer pong, anyone? I’ve been trying to play all night!” Hyuck hooks around the boys, dragging everyone over to the foyer where two tables were set up. Tons of spills made you almost slip and split your head open. Thankfully Jeno is like a solid wall behind you, not fazed by your clumsiness. 

He gets close behind you, hands still on your waist and breath tickling your ear as Hyuck and Renjun take the other end of the pong table. “Wanna bet Mark comes in for a celebrity shot later?” 

You laugh nervously, getting hot under his hold and turning to look at Jeno’s expression. “That is oddly specific. How are you so confident?” 

Looking over to Mark, he’s chatting with Mina and completely distracted from answering the door now. You’re sure that Johnny, the brother he’s been shadowing in the frat, would not be happy with Mark ignoring his job. Or maybe he would, knowing Mark was actually shooting his shot with a girl.

“I don’t wanna tell you why. Then you won’t agree.” Jeno argues, finally getting his hands off you to roll up his sleeves. You slightly roll your eyes at his words, trying to subtly look at the veins in Jeno’s hands’ flex. 

“I think he’ll come in later too. But I say it’ll be for us. Not for Hyuck or Renjun.” 

Jeno makes a tutting sound, collecting the empty cups on your side and making the triangular shape. “You’re trying to sell me out here, no way. You’re just gonna convince Mark to come over by…”

Your eyebrows lift. “By what exactly?” 

Jeno shakes his head, a small smile sat on his face. You poke at his side, curious. “By what? Now you’ve intrigued me!” 

“Whatever. I’ll make a better bet,” Jeno nabs Renjun’s missed shot, to which Hyuck whines, “Mark is gonna ask you out tonight.” 

Sputtering on the soda you’ve been sipping on, you watch Jeno whip his ping pong ball like straight butter into your opponents’ cup. The other side’s loud protests distract him from your obvious gaping, confused at the sudden thought of Mark likingyou.

Jeno eventually eyes your expression, making a weird face. “What?” 

“What? What do you mean, what?Are you insinuating Mark likes me?!” You angrily whisper, afraid that somehow the person you two were talking about would hear over the loud music flowing throughout the house. 

“Why are you so surprised? It’s very obvious! At least in my eyes.” Jeno shrugs. The ping pong from Hyuck hits your stomach, confusing him. You grab at it, just tossing it without a care. The ball whooshes in and you don’t notice, still frazzled. 

“You’re joking, right? This is a sick joke of yours?” Peering over at Jeno, he scoffs. 

“No. Don’t tell him I said this but when we first introduced you to him, he said you were pretty.” The deadpan way Jeno utters this makes your eyes squint. 

“That seems like an innocent compliment to me.” (News flash, you’re denying reality here.) 

Jeno lifts a dark eyebrow at that. “When has Mark Lee ever gone out of his way to intentionally compliment a girl?” 

You scrunch your nose at that, rubbing at the kiss he planted on your head earlier. “This changes things.” 

Jeno only chuckles, plucking the ball from one of your cups and setting it aside. He closes one eye, practically doing the same with the other as he aims. He groans with a failure, looking back to you. “Do you not like him? He’s nice, though you haven’t known him as long as I and the others have.” 

“No, no, he is nice! I like him.” The last sentence is pronounced like ‘I like him as a friend’ in your head but Jeno interprets it differently. Maybe the bass from the speakers morphed the tone of your words in his thick skull. 

“Youlikehim?” Jeno’s voice tilts high. Hyuck’s next horrible shot plonks straight at Jeno’s forehead, which he ignores in shock. 

He’s never shown incredibility like this to show you. You’re diverted to denying his words instantly, not thinking of the consequences. 

“He’s… a nice guy.” You look to Mark again and this time, he senses your gaze, throwing up a nerdy gesture of a peace sign. You wave back with a smile and don’t catch Jeno’s suspicious tonguing of his cheek at the interaction. 

“Are you accepting the bet or not?” Jeno holds a hand out, which you wait to contemplate after absolutely dunking your next shot. On a roll.

“Mark’s wingman now, are you?” Your tease causes Jeno’s jaw to shift. He acts it off as confidence, nodding with reluctance. 

Maybe he had gone too far with the little game of bets now. 

“Okay! Bet!” You perk up, wanting to win this easy wager. Mark wouldn’t ask you out, no way. 

Accepting the deal easily, you shake on it and smirk internally. 

Jeno was easy to read. An open book, you could say. Everyone in your friend group knew it as well, which made him the butt of jokes and teases all too often. He made it too fun to poke at him and you’ve joined in on the game plenty of times. This was just another game of prodding the naive Samoyed you had, though a little different. 

You didn’t really understand the reasoning behind Jeno’s disturbance all that much but he was the one that brought Mark’s supposed “crush” to you. And you’re not one to fuck with someone’s feelings that far, especially with sweet ‘ol Mark’s. 

You were pretty confident the older boy did not fancy you though; he was never around you in the first place to hint at the notion. Mark was pretty private with his romantic life so you’re not all that surprised you don’t know much. He was glued to the frat more often than usual and has been hanging out with you and company less often. 

To be fair, if Mark was with someone, hopefully, he was not blatantly kissing your forehead without care. You were never as close to Mark as the other boys like Jeno had stated before. You suppose if he did happen to ask you out tonight, it wouldn’t be so bad. But the desire to win this bet burns in your veins, even more than usual with the bizarre behavior Jeno is exhibiting at the mere thought of you returning Mark’s so-called “feelings”.

“If you’re making a bet to win this game right now, you’re gonna eat shit!” Hyuck brags, practically vibrating in excitement because the two of you were somehow tied up. Even with this dude drunk, he could be somewhat decent at games. How irritating.

Biting the corner of your lip, you ignore Hyuck, plan to win this short game of cup pong, and then win this bigger game of bets with Jeno. To gain this extra favor initializes a step-by-step scheme of what you were going to do. There was no way Jeno could beat you.

Jeno watches greed grow in your irises, probably confused. 

“So you’re confident he won’t ask you out.” He drags out his words, making sure you understood what you just shook on. 

“Yeah,” You bob in place now, trying out his strategy of closing one eye to shoot, “Mark won’t ask me out. He’s not thatdrunk.” 

“Really?” Jeno feigns interest, throwing his head to Mark fast approaching you, “You sure about that?” 

You don’t get to answer, Mark’s alcohol-hazed eyes crinkling. Mina follows close behind, waving a greeting to the both of you. “Hi, Mina! Mark— oomph!” 

Thinking Mark’s walk trajectory would stop before reaching so close, the junior bumps chest-first into you. 

“Hi!Can I take a celebrity shot?!” Mark yells, overcompensating his volume when you’re glued to him. He swarms your space, placing a touchy hand on the small of your back before standing on his tippy toes and stealing your ping pong. 

His mouth is instinctively making ‘Oh!’ noises as he readies it, failing miserably and pouting at the loss. “I could’ve sworn that was close, dude!” 

You and Mina share a smile. She knew her friend was a little touchy when drunk so the two of you chalk it up to being just that. Jeno doesn’t though, burning eyes watching the tight hold Mark has on you. 

Mark blinks rapidly down at you, pleading with big doe eyes, “Just one more shot I steal. One more celebrity shot!” 

You nod, easily agreeing with a laugh. Maybe you had underestimated how turnt your dude was right now. Mark leans backward a little, losing his balance and almost toppling you over with him. Mina pulls Mark away from your space, probably deciding he’s had enough of bothering you. 

“Sorry, he is sowasted right now.” Mina apologies, pushing the boy away from your beer pong table to the kitchen for water. 

Jeno makes a face that reads “I told you so”, forcing you to bend over in laughter. 

“Jeno, you can’t be serious. He acts that way with everyone!”

“You think that Mark touches up every girl like that? He kissed your forehead earlier too.” Jeno genuinely notes and you pause. Just for a split second. 

“We’re friends.” It’s as if that statement alone will end this argument and Jeno rolls his eyes. 

“And we’re friends too, dimwit. Wedon’t act like that, do we?” 

You shift at his words, uncomfortable at the sudden lodging of your throat. Oh, how you wish Jeno did. At least then, you’d have a pathetic hope he had an inkling of an interest in you too. 

Instead of replying to him, you turn and take Jeno’s shot for him to end the game. The last cup is yours for the taking and Renjun groans with his head thrown back, almost flying off balance at the shove Hyuck gives his partner for more space. 

“Okay, okay! Redemption shot, I got this!” Hyuck steadies his hand and bounces off the lip of your side’s last Solo cup. 

“FUCK!” 

“YOU ABSOLUTE DICKHEAD, LEE DONGHYUCK!” 

There’s a forced smile on your lips at the victory, one that only Jeno can notice is fake up close. Thankfully, he doesn’t pry on it more, seeing as he knew you weren’t going to give a truthful answer in this setting. 

You were starting to wish you had a bit of alcohol in your system, as much as you hated the taste of it on your tongue. 

|—————|

By the end of the night, you had won the bet as expected. But Jeno being the sore loser he is, tried to convince you to drag the bet on. He was super confident that Mark was into you. Maybe his friend was too wasted to ask or remember your answer if he were to come up to you about a date. 

“I’ll sleep on it,” You had said, “Especially since I pity you and I haven’t decided what I want the favor to be yet.” 

With that, Jeno breathed out a sigh in relief as he walked you home. 

|—————|

You didn’t realize how committed Jeno was to this particular game. And you don’t know why because you had honestly forgotten about it yourself the morning next. Maybe it was his pride and stubbornness stopping him from giving up.

When Jeno swings by your dorm, texting you to come downstairs quickly, you’re confused. 

He’s in comfy clothes, hair a little frizzy as he hands you a croissant and a warm cup of coffee that heats up your body temperature. 

You blearily squint your eyes at him in suspicion. “What are you buttering me up for right now?” 

With no RA in sight, you usher him into the warmth of the dorm lobby, virtually no people around to notice your blatant disregard for rules. 

“I’m not buttering you up. I just wanted to be nice this morning.” 

Staying silent, Jeno watches your expression breathe incredibility. 

“Really! I didn’t know it was a crime to be nice to you anymore, jeez.”  

The bet comes to mind and you mention it. “You’re hoping I’m not going to make you splurge your money on my favor, aren’t you?” 

Jeno laughs, the sound deep in timbre as the sun rises higher in the cold blue sky. “No, I swear. Although talking about Mark, he is going through it right now. I woke up to a video Doyoung sent me of him vomiting into the toilet.” 

You suck your lips in, holding back a laugh. “You know, if you’re trying to sell your man to me right now, describing his hangover is not working.” 

Jeno quirks the corner of his lip at that. “He probably drank half his body weight last night.” 

You roll your eyes. “And here you were, thinking he was going to be sober enough to consider asking me out. Alright.” 

Your friend shrugs, sipping at his drink. “I’m not wrong, Princess. I’ll show you with your own two eyes Mark Lee has the hots for you.” 

Cringing at the way Jeno phrased his words, you stuff the pastry you were kindly gifted into your mouth, muffling your reply. “Plea don’ efersay if like ‘at again.” 

Jeno’s shoulders shake at your antics. “You’ve slept on my proposition now, ma’am. What’s the deal?” 

Swallowing roughly, you mutter, “Can I raise the stakes to three favors?” 

Jeno scratches at his hairline at that, face in a grimace. “Fuck. Is this worth it?” 

At the hesitation in Jeno’s eyes, you jump like a hound to the smell of meat. Or in this case, a perfect opportunity to score on some free meals. 

“Yes!Yes, it’s worth it. I accept your deal!”

“Woah woah woah! I haven’t agreed yet!” Jeno is shaking his hands in front of him, dangerously leering his hot drink side to side. He licks at the lid, the brown liquid sloshing everywhere. 

“You brought this new condition up in the first place so,” Taking Jeno’s distraction as a chance to dunk cheaply on him, you take his free hand in yours, shaking on it, “Bet.” 

|—————|

It was game on from the damn get-go. 

Any chance that Jeno got, which was within a hundred feet radius of a certain junior named Mark Lee, he bolted to the boy’s side. 

Poor Mark is so confused at the sudden ramblings Jeno has of you. He’s also even more conflicted because Jeno is going in on his compliments of your smile, smarts, humor, you name it. Mark wasn’t sure whether his friend was either crushing hard and needed to only confide in him, or whether Jeno was trying to make him like you indirectly through his selling words. 

Another thing the boy stuck in the middle of this mess notices is your sudden disappearance from his vicinity. You two didn’t exactly share a class but shared a professor, who taught two subjects back to back. 

Usually, you would wait around in the auditorium-shaped classroom to catch up with him, just say hi. But no, apparently you now bolt as soon as the professor calls it quits for the day. Mark had a greeting on the tip of his tongue opening up the doors, only to scour your usual seating arrangement and come up empty. 

Poking his head out down the sidewalk, you’re speed walking away like your non-existent pet was on the verge of death. 

Mark would brush it off to some urgent duty you had but… at the odd behavior of his two friends, he decides to swing by the willow tree at the end of the week. Maybe start his own experiment on what was going on. It just didn’t seem like a coincidence to him. 

Andrighthe was in his thoughts. 

At the sight of Mark approaching the table, your eyes widen to the size of saucers, whipping your head around to Jeno. You want to slap his smug face right off. 

“What the hellis Mark doing here? Did you convince him to come?” You spit out in a whisper, Hyuck none-the-wiser as he hollers for his best friend to sit beside him. 

Jeno shakes his head no innocently, lips pouting out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Swearing under your breath, you plaster a smile onto your face, breathing out a greeting to the upperclassman. He grins at you, to which your cheeks heat up for some reason. 

Maybe it was because this dudebeside you had been bragging about you to Mark. Jeno had told you his genius plan of planting unconscious thoughts of you in Mark’s head a few days ago and its effects are now catching up to you, sweat building on your hairline.  

Jeno misinterprets it as you getting nervous in the presence of Mark, probably wishing rain to fall on his head at manifesting his final Lee brother to sit down this afternoon. 

“What’s up, man?” Mark exchanges a handshake with Jeno as he swings his bag to the ground and tucks his legs under the table. He watches with rapture as you busy yourself with the textbook splayed out in front of you, eyes skittering. 

Before Jeno can give a general reply to Mark, Hyuck bumps Mark’s shoulder. “You should text Renjun your order from that Mexican place down the street.” 

“Who’s favor are we using today?” Mark asks in curiosity. 

You raise a hand rather timidly, to which the entire table is bewildered and bemused. The bewildered people are only Hyuck and Mark because they don’t know the absolute pain-enduring embarrassment to which bemused Jeno has cursed you to withstand. You’ve always been very comfortable with the guys, including Mark, so the oblivious two not in on this bet are raising their eyebrows at your behavior. 

“What did Renjun lose against you again?” Jeno pretends to ponder deeply while you throw a heated glare his way. You wish you could burn his eyebrows right off in this moment. 

“Oh!” The bulky meathead gasps, “He lost ten-to-two against a game of naming capitals of countries. Isn’t she so smart?” 

Jeno is being soobvious. You grit your teeth as he pets your head. 

“Take your hand away before I biteyour pinky finger off.” You seethe past closed lips, the audience not hearing your threat. 

Jeno jolts his limb away at that, instead, grinning a Samoyed smile toward Mark. The latter is mainly lost in trying to navigate what the fuck was going on. 

Hyuck only rolls his eyes, a little more used to your duo’s antics. “They’re probably betting on something right now.” 

Mark blinks at that. The picture was becoming a little clearer. He wasn’t sure which way to start investigating this dilemma next. 

“No!” The two of you deny instantly, sitting up straighter. It’s even more cause to believe Hyuck’s point. 

“Ignore them,” Hyuck acts like an exasperated mother to you and Jeno’s Dumb and Dumber act, pulling out his phone to show Mark the Mexican place’s menu. 

As the other pair get lost debating what to order for Mark, you turn to Jeno with a death wish written in your eyes.

“Are you crazy, Lee Jeno!? Whatare you doing right now, you’re practically on the verge of cheating! You’re going to give this entire thing away!” 

“No,” Jeno drags out in denial, acting like you’re a child that doesn’t understand his obvious tactic, “I’m just telling him of your intelligence. I have no clue what you’re on about.” 

You’re heavily tempted to close your textbook and go bonkers Yeri-on-Hyuck style on him but Mark butts into your killer thoughts before you can pull through. 

“What are you ordering, Y/N?” 

You stutter to Jeno’s, albeit bitter, amusement. “Um, a chimichanga. It’s… pretty good from there.” 

“Okay!” Mark perks up, tapping at the phone in Hyuck’s hand, “I’ll get the same.” 

Jeno giggles into your ear and irritation bubbles to the surface of your skin. 

“I swear to fucking—”

Mark interrupts your threat once again and you paste another pleasant smile on. “Y/N, I missed you before my class on Wednesday. You were gone before I could even say hi.” 

“Oh, yeah. I uh…” You rush to make an excuse, “I really had to water my— plant. Yeah.” 

You want to punchyourself. 

Hyuck snickers as he texts Renjun Mark’s order. “What the fuck…” 

“Yeah, what the fuck? You don’t even havea pet plant in your room. Everything you attempt to raise dies.” Jeno feels the need to contribute. You’re seething at this idiot’s audacity. 

Clarifying your mistake in excuse will only deepen the hole you’ve dug for yourself so you shut up, wanting the ground to swallow your entire being whole instead. 

“Huh,” Mark chuckles, “Okay. You’re not avoiding me for some reason, right?” 

“What? Oh, no. Not at all!” As if to prove a point to Jeno, you give the most convincing smile you can to Mark. 

“Okay, that’s good.” 

Renjun saves you from continuing this conversation as Hyuck’s phone rings, pressing the speaker button to the call. 

“What’s up?” 

“Could two of you come to the restaurant real quick? I’m going to need help carrying all this food back.” 

“Why didn’t you use your car, dumbass?” Hyuck whines. 

“Because it’s a two-minute walk from campus grounds? Come help me!” 

Jeno pipes up, “Make Jaemin and the two youngest help you. They haven’t shown up here yet.” 

“Wellobviously I had thought of that, Jeno,” Renjun sasses back, “They aren’t answering.” 

“I’ll go!” You practically trip in getting up from the picnic table, dying to get away from this awkward atmosphere. 

The other three make eye contact. 

“Not it!” 

“Not it!”

“Not—!Ugh.” 

Forfuck’ssake. Your luck is actual dog water.  

“Why are you so slow at this game? Your reaction speed is usually good,” Hyuck questions Mark, who groans as he gets up. 

“Well, why do we alwaysplay “Not it” then? It’s targeting mespecifically.” 

You wholly ignore Jeno’s disgusting grin of satisfaction as the two of you begin to tread down the street. You curse to all above that Jeno gets kicked in the shins one day. It was looking like you were going to be the perpetrator more and more these days. 

“So…” Mark drags out, his hands in his pockets, “Do I even want to know what it is I’m currently stuck between?” 

You hum as you genuinely consider Mark’s words. “I can’t tell you. It’ll break the bet. And I really want to win.” 

Mark’s eyes crinkle in mirth. “The two of you are so competitive. It might take forever for you to win at this rate…” 

“Are you willing to be on my side?” You raise an eyebrow, secretly wishing.

To be fair, there were no very clear-cut boundaries to other methods of getting the dub. After all, Jeno is practically begging Mark to get the idea to ask you out. 

You could still cheat but not… outrightcheat. 

“I guess so, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.” Mark shrugs innocently. You fold your hands together, laughing under your breath as you close your eyes while looking up. 

“Damn, this is serious, dude.” Mark laughs boisterously, observing your silly act of gratitude. 

“It’s on three favors,” You mumble past your silent prayers to the sky, “Of course this is serious.” 

“Three?Shit… Well, you have me at your disposal as long as you don’t tell me what the bet is, right? What should I do?” 

You smirk, finally looking at Mark with sinister eyes. 

The ball is in your field now. 

|—————|

“Huh.” 

Jaemin looks up from his laptop to Jeno who makes the noise of discernment, watching two figures from afar. Following his best friend’s eyeline, you and Mark are walking side-by-side toward the commons. You’re grinning as Mark laughs, bent over with difficulty while walking. 

“When did they get closer?” Jaemin asks in bewilderment. Jeno stays silent as Mark holds the door open for you and the both of you disappear into the commons. 

“Don’t know,” Jeno mumbles, finally looking down to his device and rereading the same paragraph over again. 

Jaemin makes a face at that, having been able to read his buddy for a while now. 

“So…” 

Jeno sighs, knowing that Jaemin is obviously hinting at something. “Spit it out.” 

“What bet did you make with Y/N?” 

Jeno side-eyes Jaemin with annoyance. “How do you even know anything about this?” 

“I have my ways,” Jaemin concludes mysteriously, “Answer me.”

“We bet at Johnny’s party two weeks ago.” 

“On what though?” 

“I said Mark would ask her out.” 

Jaemin snorts at that, going back to his laptop. “He’s not into her. He likes Mina.” 

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t really seem that way anymore. They’re getting all giggly and close with one another.” Jeno has a tone of temper growing in his words. 

“If the bet is over then, why is this dragging on?” 

“I raised it to three favors now. It’s indefinite.” 

Jaemin glances at Jeno again with fingers halted on his keyboard, holding back laughter. “Why would you ever, under anyconditions, accept that? Against Y/N of all people too? She’s going to drain your wallet for food.” 

“She’s convincing.” 

“Oryou’re whipped for her.” 

“I’m not.” Jeno gives a dirty look to the poor paragraph he’s been on for five minutes.

“You’re in deepdenial, bud. I’ve been saying this for an eternity.” 

Jeno scowls at his best friend, not appreciating the entertained, twinkling eyes shot his way. Jaemin tilts his chin toward his neck, looking up through his long eyelashes at Jeno. 

“Deny it all you want but I know my shit. She likes you, you like her. It’s simple.” Jaemin chirps.

“Oh, and you’rethe love expert, aren’t you, playboy?” Jeno’s exasperated, practically pouting. “I don’t likeY/N.” 

“Really? Why are you bothered with the idea of Y/N being with Mark then? You’rethe one that suggested to her Mark was interested. Now that Y/N is entertaining the idea, you’ve backed off on trying to win,” Jaemin lands a slap on Jeno’s back, “You’re deserving of what you’re putting yourself through, man.” 

Jeno sighs as he folds his arms onto the table, laying his chin down. “I don’t like it when you speak sense.” 

“For one, I’ve always been speaking sense. But I’m glad you’re finally acknowledging my genius good points. I’ve been trying to get through your thick skull about her for two years.” Jaemin nods in gratification, glad Jeno is opening his eyes a little, even if it took some good ‘ole jealousy to stir his best friend’s heart around. 

|—————|

“Ow!” 

You cringe, the corners of your mouth reaching your ears. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to do that.” 

“S’okay.” He grumbles at the way, rubbing at the eye you just poked.

Pressing the face mask firmer on Mark’s already milky skin, you fixate on a bump and attempt to smooth it over. Once you’re satisfied, you wipe your hands on your pajama pants and clap in completion. 

“Perfect!” Twisting Mark’s shoulders around so that he shifts on the bed to face his mirror, he immediately ruins your hard work by bursting into laughter at the sight of the sheet mask on his face. 

“Mark! You fucking ruined it!” You can’t help but fall in line with your friend’s contagious sounds of amusement, slapping his arm lightly for him to face you and fix it again.

“I’m sorry! I look so stupid, I can’t—” 

Urging him to sit up straight, you shake your head side to side, not able to be actually mad when Mark was so humored by the new experience of night skincare. 

“Whatever. I guess I don’t care since you paid for dinner and I paid for this.” Grinning down at him, knees planted on the bed, Mark naturally returns your smile and regrets it as you lightly pinch his ear in retaliation for again, messing up your hard work. 

“My bad, my bad. But it’s whatever. Pizza isn’t expensive.” 

“That restaurant is kind of expensive though.” You mutter under your breath, brushing Mark’s hair from his head and adjusting his baby lion headband you bought for this tiny sleepover. 

“It’s chill. No big deal.” 

Settling back to sit on your heels, you raise a teasing eyebrow. “And if I make you sleep on the couch in the living room?”

Mark falls line and sinker, pouting a little. “You said we would put pillows between us tonight.” 

Laughing lightly, you rush to reassure Mark. “I’m joking, you know I am,” Throwing yourself back to the pillows on your friend’s bed, you pat the spot beside you and Mark follows, “What movies do you wanna watch?” 

He hums, tugging his laptop from its charger on the bedside table, “Didn’t we decide on binging the Tom Holland Spiderman movies earlier this week?” 

“Ohyeah, I forgot about that! I—”

Your phone begins to b

bet! | lee jeno. [TEASER]

FINISHED AND POSTED! READ HERE.

summary. it was bound to bite both your asses eventually. just plain ‘ol comedic luck that you and your best friend’s shared tradition of petty bets get you two to finally cough up years of repressed feelings for one another. 

pairing.y/n x nct’s jeno

genre. college!au, best friends to lovers!au

word count. 2k (of around 17k currently still in the works!)

warnings.swearing,fem!reader, hyuck and yeri hustle LMAO, humor if you can call it that somtimes, general dreamies tomfoolery (all these listed for just the teaser)

taglist. none! (if you would like to join, please comment on this post!)

making a lovelycomeback from my angst train to hit u with the classic college!au featuring ma boy jeno!! this is currently the longest fic i’ve ever written and i’m trying to gain some hype for it right now (started this beast in january can u believe that…) please repost if u want to see it out soon!!! estimated release is early june!!! see y’all soon <3

“WAS HE DROPPED on the head when he was a kid?” 

You can’t help the snort that passes your lips, making a satisfying slap to Jeno’s arm. “Don’t be mean.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” Jeno raises an eyebrow.

“Eh… maybe like once or twice. Not that I would know, I was the same age as him but I’m just guessing.” 

You two continue to watch the disaster in front of you befold. Hyuck was currently bothering Yeri. Apparently, he didn’t know the limits as to when to stop because the older senior’s ears are burning red. You’re sure if you were in a cartoon right now, Yeri would have smoke coming out of them, nostrils flaring. 

“Should we intervene?” You side-eye Jeno and he’s the least bit concerned, eyes blearily watching the soon-to-be wreck happen in slow motion, cheek smushed against his palm. 

“Nah. This is way more entertaining than continuing my stats homework.” 

You peer over his notebook and he has the word problem and equation written down. Humming, you bring your attention back to the stars of the show and see Yeri grip her notebook tighter, knuckles going white. 

“Here we go.” You sing, Hyuck’s screams of protest soon alerting everyone in the campus plaza of his pain. 

“He never learns his lesson, huh?” Renjun finally joins, his boots making the fall leaves on the ground crunch. Throwing his book bag on the table, it scrunches Jeno’s current page in his statistics work but the latter doesn’t care. 

The two of you nod simultaneously. You and Jeno halfheartedly discouraged Hyuck from going to poke at Yeri around five minutes ago, soon after the three of you had sat down at your usual spot under the only weeping willow tree on campus. It was honestly impressive how quickly your mutual friend could annoy someone so quickly. 

“We should time him. See how long it takes for Yeri to lash out at him next.” You mutter the idea, Jeno pursing his lips after the two shift left and right around Yeri and company’s picnic table, a textbook held high in Yeri’s nimble fingers. Wendy and Seulgi are ducking as Irene begins trying to stop the madness, scolding Joy for cheering on their youngest.

“Not a bad idea to be honest. Wanna bet?” Jeno grins and you shake on his hand without looking at him. 

It was just getting good. Hyuck doesn’t have the endurance to continue but Yeri does. Pilates has done her well. 

Renjun quirks an eyebrow, pulling out his laptop as an apple slice is shoved into the corner of his mouth. “You don’t even know the conditions of the bet yet.” 

You shrug, thoroughly entertained as Hyuck sits on his knees, his hands rubbing together furiously as he begs for mercy. “Next time, he gets Yeri to go after him under two minutes.” 

“I say three.” Jeno nods and he offers a hand again which you shake. 

“You underestimate that little lady’s body. She can hold a lot of anger.” 

Jeno hums in response, ending the conversation quickly as Hyuck stumbles his way over, a pout sat on his lips. The well-beaten idiot rubs at his forearms, mumbling curses under his breath as he plops down beside Renjun. 

“Didn’t end well, did it bud?”

At the smug expression you have plastered on, Hyuck’s pout deepens. “It’s not funny. I need her to partner with me in Psych. I’ll go fucking crazy if I actually have to work with Felix.” 

“Felix’s a sweetheart. I don’t know why you have it out for him.” 

Hyuck rolls his eyes, running his hands through the ruffled brown strands. Yeri managed to grab a bunch of pine needles and aim correctly enough, even with the air resistance the leaves have. 

Renjun beside him plucks a long green one out the battered boy who’s seated beside him, slouched over on the picnic table. “You can’t have two eggheads who don’t pay attention in class paired together. Isn’t that so, Hyuck?” Renjun baby-voices, the latter placing his chin on his stacked wrists to glare. 

“Somebody’s cranky.” Chenle swings by, a childish smirk gracing everybody’s presence. 

“It’s justified.” Hyuck huffs, turning away from the new arrival. You scoot over, bumping into Jeno’s large body to allow Chenle to sit. 

“Why are you so meaty nowadays? Take a break from the gym, will you? We can barely fit eight people at this table as it is.” There’s playful malice in your voice but a little truth in there. The asshole was getting too bulky for your liking. 

“Oh please. Mark hardly swings by for lunch with us anymore. And why by chance are you bothered by me bulking up?” Jeno leans closer, eyes impossibly close to yours, “Are you swooning yet?” 

Ignoring your heart racing faster, you slap a palm to his forehead, pushing Jeno further away from your face. “No, I’m sick of these freshies asking me for your number, that’s why. You want to know how many asked for your digits indirectly through me this entire week?” 

Chenle and Renjun have suddenly started bickering about something and you have to raise your voice a little. 

“Five.Fivepeople. Four girls and one guy. I’d be proud of you if it weren’t for the annoyance starting to kick in.” Jeno raises his eyebrows at the number, finally flattening down his stats paper. 

“And what’d you tell ‘em?” Jeno bites distractedly at the cap of his pen, seeming to hit the realization his work has to get done by midnight. 

“That they should ask you themselves,” You’re rolling your eyes, nudging at Chenle to back off on his squishing, practically half his body across the table to try and snatch at Renjun’s sliced apples, “I’m kind of sick of your posse trying to scour me for your personal information.” 

“Get your own, dingus! We get our rations per month at the commons!”

“I’m not giving up a precious coupon just to get one apple slice, come on!” 

“Tell them to stop then.” Jeno tries to solve.

You laugh incredulously, watching Jeno’s concentrated (confused more like) side profile. “You think that deters them? They regenerate into different people every week. The message is not passed on from generation to generation apparently.” 

Jeno makes that endearing ‘huH?’ sound and you grab at the notebook yourself, having taken Statistics 101 before. He thanks you under his breath, which you nod at before Jeno slumps onto your shoulder, sighing heavily. 

“Sorry. I know it bothers you. I would go around and tell them to back off of you and me personally but I don’t know all their names.”

Glancing at Jeno, it irritates you helplessly that you know he’s not even trying to sound dickish. He’s just that sweet and kind of a guy that makes other people not want to want to talk to him and ask those types of questions themselves. You know those people that seem too perfect to want to approach? Yeah, that’s Lee Jeno in a nutshell. If you looked up the definition of that type of person in a book, Jeno would be grinning that Samoyed smile of his from on that cursed page. 

“I should tape a sign to my back that says, ‘Ask Lee Jeno himself. I’m not his personal owl,’” You peek at his face, “What do you think?” 

He slightly smiles, eyes crinkling almost shut even at such a small gesture of amusement. “Okay. I’ll add my signature to it so that they know it’s signed by yours truly.” He looks up to your face and you’re glad the cold can disguise your flustered face easily with this type of weather. 

Guess it’s time to actually settle this officially since it’s been clued at a little, but yes: You do have a crush on Jeno. And no, he does not know because when does telling one of your best friends’ that you’ve been crushing on them ever worked out? 

No, not in the Wattpad story kind of way, you mean trulyworked out. Because personally, you’ve never heard of it working out ever, especially since you’re practically in the you’ve-seen-him-in-his-boxers and he’s-seen-you-shirtless stage of friendship. Don’t ask, it’s a long story that’s already too long for this kind of boring read. 

So,no, you will not take your chances, thank you very much. There were many signs flashing neon that told you Jeno didn’t see you in a romantic or sexual kind of way but the glaringly obvious sign was actually the one you two are discussing currently. 

What’s the appropriate way of acting if your crush is being berated by other peers on campus to give them your number? You’re not confident in what it actually looks like because for one, you’re not on the receiving end in this imaginary scenario, and two, it’s exactly that; an imaginaryscenario. You can’t even seriously dream Jeno liking you if you could. It was just that bizarre. 

In the two years you’ve known the boy, he’s never even once mentioned another human being that he could potentially be interested in on campus. It’s not a problem of him not being comfortable telling you either because he’s told you upright that he’s not interested in anybody here (including you who’s enrolled in this stupid university). You’ve even nonchalantly asked Jaemin before and he’s confirmed that even in high school, this kid did not have wandering eyes. 

You had wondered if Jeno was asexual, aromantic, or something along that line in the spectrum, eventually having the courage to ask him one day and he shook his head no quite confidently, a small smile laid on his lips. 

You don’t know what Jeno’s deal was but the risks in finding out really didn’t lean in your favor. And that’s fine, considering how many fish are available of Earth’s wide sea of potential mates. You’ve killed off even the chance of dating Jeno and that’s all good in your book. You’ve been attracted to your guy friends once and twice and they faded away with time exploring their weird quirks or horrible habits. And even if Jeno was a strange case where you’ve even seen the dude have beer drip from his nostrils from a shitty keg stand and you still manage to harbor feelings for him… eh. 

Time brushes away a lot of problems if you’re desperate and willing enough. Luckily for you, you checked off both boxes easily with this special instance.

You open your laptop and scour your documents for your old stats notes on chi-square tests. Bleh.

Pretending to gag in your mouth at the sight, Jeno smothers a laugh that shakes your shoulder and you share the document his way before scrolling and finding the right topic. You do the problem with few difficulties and write a quick message in the corner of his notebook page. 

‘Actually study this because Y/N did the example and took time from her day to do so, thank you.’

“Thanks,” Jeno chirps as he takes his notebook back, removing himself from your shoulder (to your well-hidden disappointment), “I owe you one.” 

“You’re right. A coffee works just fine, thank you.” You pipe back, folding your hands on the table cheerily. Jeno is shaking his head in mock annoyance but you knew the next time you two meet, you would not be disheartened, a warm cup pressed in hand. 

“A four-dollar coffee is worth one solved problem in your book?” Jeno argues. 

You fire back without hesitation. “It’s statistics. And I just sent two semesters’ worth of notes to you. You’re very welcome.” 

“You’re right,” Jeno turns, stowing his notebook away, “That’s like seven coffees then.” 

“And a scone if you’re feeling nice. A croissant works too.” You beam. 

“Now you’re pushing it. Those things are stupidly overpriced.” 

“Even for me?” You playfully place your chin in your cupped hands, blinking slowly and looking through your lashes. 

Jeno sighs, placing a hand on your head of hair. “Fine. You win, you spoiled princess.” 

In times like these, you knew you really asked to be put in these types of situations. And you’re not one to start being a saint and stop being hypocritical but… you deserved what you were putting yourself through, saying these types of things and teasing like this. Trying to get a stir and playact with being more. 

Maybe it was a little cruel, somewhat tricking Jeno into saying sweet things to you, just to let your mind wander for a second. Call it… taking advantage of his friendship to pretend a little. Harmless but still adds into your ledger of sins for Judgement Day right?

dancing is not on your top list of interests, but park jisung definitely is.

pairing :: park jisung x reader
genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au
word count :: 5,563 words
warnings ::none
playlist :: sunroof (nicky youre & dazy) ⋆ just the way you are (bruno mars) ⋆ until i found you (stephen sanchez & em beihold) ⋆ this is what falling in love feels like (jvke) ⋆ kiss me (sixpence none the richer)
author’s note :: wishing the happiest of (belated) birthdays to one very special miss april @dropofgoldensun​ !!!! i’m sorry this wasn’t on time, i tried aksjdfhas i’m very proud of you always, big congrats on leading two very successful, very amazing dance performances and for completing your first year of college (you’re almost there !!!) ily lots !! you’ll get a longer (read: sappier) letter and present in the mail ♡ p.s. i pinky promise this is not a joke this time :’)
↳ part of the not clickbaitseries.

There are three things in life that Park Jisung is absolutely terrified of.

Okay, that’s a big fat lie, and even he knows it. There are actually many things he’s insanely afraid of, but that would take forever to list, so here are the top three, starting from the bottom:

#3. His mom when she’s mad at him (deserved).

She found out he bet Chenle all his meal points that Jaemin would confess to his best friend before she would (Spoiler: he ate ramen everyday for a whole semester. Luckily, Mark sucks at buying groceries online and ordered too many bulk boxes of that instant MSG filled goodness).

#2. Bugs and ghosts.

Both float or fly around and always come out of nowhere. So yeah, he’s putting them together. Also, he’s never going to forgive Donghyuck for convincing him to swap cameraman duties because he ended up filming the Mothman episode for Dream Unsolved while Donghyuck got to enjoy three lobster rolls at three drastically different price points, complete with shaved truffle and edible gold flakes.

Combining his two second tier fears? That’s a recipe for the: Worst. Night. Ever. It was so bad, he wanted to give Mothman a zero (out of five stars), but Renjun said that’s not possible. So he gave it a one. But it’s still a zero in his books.

#1. Confessing to his best friend.

Jisung didn’t think he’d feel this type of primal fear again. The last time he felt this way was when he lost his phone in the Uber drop off zone at Disneyland during the summer of his freshman year. Their rideshare reached the hotel at midnight before he realized his phone was missing, like some modern day Cinderella except he wasn’t Hilary Duff and there was no Chad Michael Murray to find his phone (He blames you for making him watch this movie with you religiously when you two were younger). The driver was nice enough to agree to drive back as Chenle repeatedly called his phone, and he frantically searched beneath the car seats.

All hope was nearly lost when he reached the drop off zone again, leaping out of the car and asking the nearby security if someone turned it in to no avail. They told him to check the guest relations service station, and he had to go through all the security checkpoints again and caught up with the employee right before the station was closed up. They had asked him to describe his phone, and he rapid-fired the make, model, and a description of the lockscreen picture of you and him taken at the Sleeping Beauty’s castle the last time the two of you came here.

When they came up empty handed, he was already dreading the call to his mom to help him cancel all his credit cards on Apple Pay and planning his upcoming funeral in his mind. But Disneyland is truly a magical place because some Good Samaritan did turn in his phone a few minutes later, and the employee returned it to him. He also belatedly realized why no one picked up when Chenle was calling because the caller ID flashing on his phone shows “Sugar Daddy ❤️” in large, unmistakable letters. He humbly takes his device with the twenty-two missed calls from his Splenda Father back from the employee with a meek “Thank you” (He doesn’t miss the side-eye from them and sprints back to the car with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. Chenle thought it was hysterical).

So yeah, Jisung distinctly remembers that impending feeling of doom when he thought he had to tell his mom he lost his phone. However, doing that would still be an absolute cake walk in the park in comparison to executing #1 on his list.

You are standing there, looking absolutely stunning in a leather jacket and the prettiest pink velvet dress that you had purchased from the nearby thrift shop. The two of you were just messing around and trying on the most ridiculous outfits, temporarily abandoning your search for some ugly tropical button downs for Jaemin’s beach themed party a couple months ago, when he pulled out that dress behind a bunch of old Halloween costumes, and your eyes lit up. You looked so pretty spinning around in that dress back then, and you look just as pretty, if not more, wearing it now.

“Sungie!” you call him over, noticing him hovering by the doorway that led out to the balcony where you and the rest of your friends are scattered around in a sort of circle, either sitting on the ground or the lounge chairs. The night sky is littered with stars that are surprisingly visible in the city still, and Mark has his guitar out, strumming the chords for a very familiar, very beloved ten minute long song by the Woman, the myth, the legend: Taylor Swift.

Your best friend makes his way over to you, handing you a cup filled with green apple soju, and you grin, thanking him before taking a sip. Standing next to you, he leans back against the railing, forearms resting on top of the iron bars. “Excited that summer is almost here and you’re almost done with school?”

You groan, throwing back half of the drink, and it burns the back of your throat slightly. “Just a few more weeks to go, and I’m finally free. Maybe I should open up a TikTok and pray I get famous, too, so I can drop out and never take another exam.”

“Hey, I’ll help you set up a dancing TikTok if that’s what you really want.” He nudges you, and you laugh, causing his heart to flutter as he beams a little proudly at the fact that he caused that. “I’m serious. You always practice all the dances with me anyway before I film the final version.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to put my dancing out there for the whole world to see. That’s just gonna be between you and me and all my plushies in my room,” you chuckle, tipping back the remainder of your drink. It’s a little chilly out here, and you’re hoping the alcohol will warm you up. “I mean, I do think it’s fun, but I don’t think I can keep up with it all the time.”

Jisung lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, well, one day, I’m gonna finally be able to convince you to show up in my videos and collab.”

“In your dreams, Sungie.” You grin at him before shivering slightly when a small breeze picks up. Instinctively, Jisung reaches out and pulls you closer to him, arm wrapped around your shoulder and side pressed against yours. He belatedly realizes what he just did, and his face turns pink, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears. He desperately hopes that you cannot feel his heart thumping so quickly in his chest, almost threatening to fall out.

You stifle a squeak at the unexpected hug, the heat spreading across your cheeks like wildfire, and when you turn to look at him, you suddenly register you have miscalculated the distance between your face and his. Your nose almost brushes his, and your face burns up even hotter.

“Uh, I—” Puberty makes its untimely appearance in the form of a voice crack, and he hastily clears his throat. “You looked cold and um, I thought it’d be better to uh, share body heat… you know?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” You nod a little too vigorously, still very much hyper aware of the fact that if you just tilt your head ten degrees and lean forward a couple inches, then you’d be kissing your best friend whom you have a very big, not-so-subtle crush on. “Good thinking, Sungie.”

“Right?” Jisung also nods a little too enthusiastically, and the two of you simultaneously turn your faces away from each other, choosing to stare at your other friends in front of you instead. “Anyway, what were we talking about again?”

“Oh, just you failing to convince me to make a TikT—oh my god, wait, hold on, this is my favorite part! ‘You said that if we had been closer in age, maybe it would have been fine, AND THAT MADE ME WANT TO DIE!’”

You and the other girls scream the last part in sync for emphasis, and Jisung watches, chuckling as his lips curl up into an amused smile. On the other hand, Donghyuck winces, remarking, “I know that wasn’t directed at me, but it still feels a little too personal.”

His girlfriend merely winks at him, throwing up finger guns before she continues to belt out the next verse, and you laugh, leaning forward slightly. Jisung thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and he wouldn’t mind hearing it for the rest of his life.

When you straighten up, Jisung gently readjusts his hand on your shoulder, casually pulling you towards him again. Your breath catches in your throat as your face instantaneously heats up when he tucks you into his jacket once more, and you are once again pressed against his side. Giggling a little nervously, you avoid any sort of eye contact with him and try to focus all your attention on the current song, loudly singing along with your friends and praying to the Big Man Upstairs that your best friend doesn’t notice that your voice goes an octave higher for a split second when he leans his head against yours.

Taylor is absolutely right. You will remember this all too well.

You wonder if Jisung will, too.

(He does.)

“Why are we doing this dance again?”

Your phone is set up precariously on top of Jisung’s desk and leaning against the mouse Squishmallow you had gifted him for his birthday last year (along with a new gaming keyboard with rainbow lights). He makes sure the two of you are centered in the camera’s angle, nodding in satisfaction before clicking the Play button on the Renegade dance compilation he already opened up on his laptop, which has been placed right next to the phone on his desk.

“Because you missed this one when it first came out, and it’s tradition for us to do all the TikTok dances together,” he says before gently shoving you towards the laptop. “And you pinky promised me you’d film one video with me. Now pay attention.”

“I was tipsy when I said that, and this challenge is like two years old,” you complain. You knew you shouldn’t have drank more the other night, but how else were you supposed to cope with the fact that Jisung was basically cuddling you for at least thirty minutes without combusting on the spot? It was a total setup, and you can’t be convinced otherwise. “Why can’t we do something more recent, like Lizzo’s ‘About Damn Time’?”

Jisung waves you off. “We can do that afterwards. Are you watching the video?”

Grumbling to yourself, you don’t know why you’re even following his directions, but you begrudgingly squint at the laptop screen, taking note of each movement and the timing. Miming a few of the moves, you poke your tongue out slightly in concentration, rewinding the video to review certain parts again and placing all your attention on the dance, just as your best friend had silently hoped you’d do.

Jisung catches himself staring at you longer than it would be considered socially appropriately and immediately looks away, his cheeks immediately turning pink. It’s not his fault you’re so cute, like honestly, why can’t you be a little less cuter and therefore, a little less distracting? Besides, the whole reason he’s convincing you to do an old trend is so that he has time to psych himself up before doing the challenge.

Yes, it’s that challenge: the one about kissing your best friend, a.k.a. the one that’s been making its way around his friend group, a.k.a. the one Chenle has not so subtly called him out for in the comments of Dream: Worth It’s latest video. Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have meddled in Chenle’s relationship. This is karma coming back to bite him in the butt. Chenle and his best friend are finally dating, but no good deed goes unpunished. It’s all fun and games when he’s not the player, but now, Jisung is in the hot seat, and he doesn’t think he can do it.

As Dua Lipa says, one kiss is all it takes, but Jisung has already fallen in love with you. He just doesn’t know if you are in love with him. And he is almost too scared to find out because it will absolutely crush him if you aren’t, but the only thing fueling him to do this is that it will absolutely crush him just the slightest bit more (okay, a lot more) if, years down the line, he finds out you did indeed love him back, but it was too late. Blame all those sappy romance kdramas you made him watch for instilling that fear in him. He refuses to end up like the main characters of Twenty Five Twenty One.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you announce, cutting his inner pity monologue short, and he jumps slightly in surprise. You hide a smile. “Do you need to rewatch it or do you still remember the dance?”

“Of course I remember it, I’m a professional.” He grins at you, flashing double peace signs, and you laugh, bringing up the song on Spotify and toggling with the timebar until it is paused a little earlier than when the challenge music should start.

“Alright, genius, let’s start the practice recording then.”

After making one final adjustment to the camera angle, you tap the record button on his phone and click the play button for the song. You quickly step back into the frame next to your best friend, getting into the correct position. When the song reaches the starting point of the dance challenge, you move along with it, and Jisung matches up perfectly.

“Wait, hold on,” Jisung calls out a few moments later, stopping his movements and you follow suit. Turning towards you, he puts his arms up to perform as he says, “This one part, you cross your arms first in an X, and then put your hands up, and swing your left arm and snap.”

“Oh, gotcha, so like this?” Facing him, you mimic his movements slowly. As you go through each step, Jisung forces himself to shuffle forward slightly. He’s petrified, too nervous to even take a proper step forward.

This is the perfect opportunity for him to just lean forward and kiss you. He inches forward, heart palpitating erratically, and he’s so, so close, only a few centimeters more. He’s so close he can count every eyelash framing your pretty eyes and see the faint scar on your cheek you got when you tried to bike downhill when the two of you were in first grade and ended up careening into a bush when you couldn’t stop (He cried so hard when he saw you scratched up, and you were the one who had to console him until your mom came out running, instead of the other way around). The butterflies multiply exponentially with every second, and he finally gets his arms to move. He begins to reach out to cup your face when you suddenly look up, beaming at him.

Startled, Jisung flails back, eyes widening and arms flapping, as you exclaim, “There! That’s how it went, right?”

“Oh! Uh, yes, that’s, um… almost right!” he blurts out, completely unsure if that’s even correct. He hurries to reach out and holds your hands loosely before positioning them. “It should go like this, and then this.”

With a start, he belatedly realizes that the two of you are now holding hands, and he drops yours quicker than lightning. He clears his throat awkwardly, taking another step back. Challenge Attempt #1 was a complete failure, but it’s a good thing you didn’t notice. Or at least, he doesn’t think you did because you didn’t do anything heart shattering, like recoil from him and consequently break his heart into smithereens.

“Yeah, so like that,” he finishes lamely. You nod slowly, copying the motions several times before giving it one final resolute nod. “Okay, got it. Let’s try this again.”

You click back to the beginning of the song first then press play and quickly move back to your spot next to your best friend. Repositioning your arms into the starting pose, you wait patiently for the song’s starting point in the challenge. When that familiar melody hits, you immediately begin the dance, and Jisung syncs up with you as well. You get a little farther in the dance this time before one of the arm movements trips you up slightly.

“Ah, sorry, I think I need to rewatch them doing this part some more.”

Your best friend hums in acknowledgment, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “What if you do the dance by yourself first a couple of times and I can spot you?”

You nod in agreement. “Sounds good.”

Jisung very quickly learns that while it may be a good idea for you, it wasn’t a good idea for him. Now that he isn’t dancing and therefore, not concentrating on nailing each move, he’s left alone with his thoughts, specifically one alarming thought in which he might be the first one in his friend group to chicken out of completing the challenge. He’ll never be able to live that down.

“Hey, are you even paying attention to me?” You pout, stopping mid-dance, and his head snaps up, his eyes zeroing in on you once more and his back straightening up immediately.

“Yeah, always… Wait, I mean—! Yes, you’re doing great so far, keep going.” He gives you two very enthusiastic thumbs up, and you beam at him. He inaudibly lets out a sigh of relief, slouching back in his seat when you return your gaze to the laptop.

Heart pounding, you quickly turn your face away from your best friend even more and hope Jisung doesn’t notice how flustered you became. Cheeks burning, you try to focus on the dance video playing in front of you, copying the movements in a smaller scale over and over until they transition into the next move much more smoothly and you feel more comfortable with them.

“Alright, I got it this time,” you declare before taking a few steps towards your best friend and grabbing his hand. “Let’s try it out again!”

You tug him forward from his seat into a standing position, but it seems like you underestimated your strength because he stumbles forward from the momentum and you bump back against his desk. Your best friend manages to catch himself before falling onto you, hands landing on either side of you on the table surface. Your faces are yet again millimeters from each other, and if you tilt your head up just the slightest, you can press your lips against his.

It feels like time is at a standstill, and the two of you don’t dare to breathe for a few seconds, frozen in place. Jisung catches the way your eyes dart down to his lips for a split second, and he gulps, mind going into overdrive and heart racing faster than the speed of light. When he finally regains control over his limbs, he practically launches himself away from you or else, he is one hundred percent sure he’s going to suffer from a heart attack if he continues to remain that close in proximity to you.

“Oops, my bad,” you shrug, hiding a mischievous smile. If Jisung wasn’t so focused on calming his heart down, he might have thought you did that on purpose. But thinking that would just increase his heart rate again, and that’s the exact opposite of what he wants right now. He swears you’re going to be the death of him one of these days.

“Shall we start the dance now?”

“Um, y-yeah, let’s,” Jisung manages to stammer out, turning away from you and staring straight at the phone which miraculously withstood the incident seconds earlier, still balancing against the soft plushie. He focuses on the image of you and him on the screen and wonders if any of his followers will think the two of you are a couple when he’ll post this video on his account later this week. He hopes they do. But god forbid, they start shipping you with one of his friends instead (Side Note: Donghyuck was not very happy when he discovered there were people out there shipping his girlfriend with Jaemin).

The two of you start the dance on cue, going through the movements in sync with each other. When you recognize the song nearing the end of the challenge, you almost let out a pre-celebratory yell, but quickly stop yourself in time because you do not want to redo this entire dance for the nth time. At last, you complete the last move and then throw your arms up in celebrating, squealing in excitement.

You engage in a quick victory dance, and Jisung laughs, fondly watching you before your eyes land on him, and you grab his hands for the second time today (not that he was counting) and pull him around in a circle.

“Guys, gals, and non-binary pals, I have officially filmed my first TikTok challenge,” you announce happily to the camera, finally ending your happy dance and continuing to swing your and his interlocked hands instead.

“Congrats on your upcoming TikTok debut.” Jisung swallows hard before mustering up the courage to tug you closer and wrap his arms around your waist. The butterflies in his stomach erupt into a whole stampeding zoo, and his palms start to grow sweaty. This is it. This is literally his last chance to complete the challenge today or else, he’s going to be thinking about this for the rest of his life and kicking himself over it.

“Thanks, Sungie.”

Slipping your arms around his neck and interlocking your fingers, you proudly beam at him, eyes sparkling and he grins back at you, the all too familiar blush creeping back onto his face. Time slows down once more as he inches forward to close the distance. He sees the pretty gold flecks in your irises and wonders if you’re also hyper aware of every little detail of his now too, and oh god, what if his breath smells? Is there food stuck in his teeth? He should’ve brushed his teeth before this, and—

He can’t do it.

Jisung awkwardly pulls away and chickens out for the second time today, mentally beating himself up already. He misses the look of disappointment that flashes over your features as he mutters something about needing to end the recording now before your phone battery dies and also wanting to crawl into a hole to curl up in the fetal position for the next three hundred years or up until he leaves this god forsaken earth, whichever comes first.

“Huh, I guess my intel was wrong.”

Your best friend halts, finger hovering over the recording button. “What?”

“I mean, I could’ve sworn you were gonna kiss me at least twice,” you say casually, and your best friend almost chokes. He whirls around in his spot, eyes becoming saucers, and an amused smile flits across your face at his reaction.

“W-what are you talking about? You noticed?” he splutters. His eyes grow even wider and he slaps his hand across his mouth when the second question accidentally slips out, and your smile grows even bigger at his indirect confession.

“So you were trying to kiss me.”

“I mean—I—I just—!” Stammering, your best friend flails his arms around in a panic as he babbles on. Giggling, you silently decide that you’ve teased him enough about this and should probably put him out of his misery. Slipping your hand into his, you tug him towards you and press your lips against his tenderly, and he shuts up immediately.

Eyes fluttering open, you pull away with a triumphant smile as Jisung immediately covers his face, the bright cerise that stains his cheeks now peeking out between his fingers. “Oh my god, you just kissed me.”

You nod. “I did.”

Your best friend slowly pulls his hands away from his face, an absolute lovestruck expression painted across his face as he laughs in disbelief. You can see the stars in his eyes, and Jisung is almost positive there are little cupids circling around his head right now.

“Can you do that again?” he asks breathlessly with a mischievous smirk, and you inhale sharply, face warming up at his bold question. “W-What?”

“I mean, that was a pretty weak kiss,” your best friend continues, stepping forward and standing toe to toe with you as he grins at you, eyes curving into the prettiest moon crescents. “I thought you were a lot bolder than that, Y/N.”

“Please, at least I actually kissed you,” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes. “Don’t act like you weren’t just blushing and chickening out like ten seconds ag—mmph!”

Jisung captures your lips with his, his hands cradling your face delicately and your eyes flutter shut. It’s the perfect kiss: one that blows away all the butterflies and nerves and evokes the sense of comfort and home—the familiarity of your best friend, of Jisung and every single part of him that you adore. It steals your breath away, and your best friend admires the pretty galaxies all captured within your eyes when the two of you part.

“Nowthatwas a real kiss,” Jisung proclaims as he waits for the stars in your eyes to dissipate. Your face heats up, and you have a very strong urge to wipe the smug smirk on his face off (maybe with another kiss). Scrunching your nose, you glower at him, sticking out your bottom lip, and resist the urge to stick your tongue out.

His smile softens, and Jisung nudges your hand gently before shyly interlocking his fingers with yours. “Should we celebrate your upcoming Tiktok debut and DoorDash some milkshakes and fries from McDonald’s?”

You brighten up instantaneously, squeezing his hand and cheering, “Yes! Wow, I should’ve done this earlier if I knew you’d buy me food. I never thought I’d see the day when you stopped being a freeloader.”

“Hey, I pay for things, too,” Jisung protests, lips jutting out into the cutest pout. He’ll admit that he uses your Hulu account and Amazon Prime, but he pays for Netflix. No, actually, scratch that. He shares Chenle’s email and password with you, so technically, he’s just the middleman and Chenle is the payer. But just give him a minute, and he’ll think of something he paid for. Ah, right, the two of you will be using his DoorDash account that he paid for. Well, it’s the free month long trial, but he digresses.

“Wait, what did you mean by ‘intel’ earlier?” Jisung furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. Giving him a sheepish grin, you fiddle with your necklace.

“Okay, don’t be upset, but turns out, Chenle and his girlfriend had an ongoing bet on us about who would kiss who first for the past few months.”

“What?”

“It was a hundred bucks, and she told me if I kissed you first, she’d win and split the money with me fifty-fifty.”

“So you were paid to kiss me?” Jisung looks simultaneously scandalized and somewhat impressed by your joint scheme.

“Technically, yes, but I was actually investing in our future because I’ll pay for our first date with this. I did this, so you can continue to be a parasite in this relationship,” you say convincingly, and he almost agrees until it registers in his mind that you called him something offensive and equivalent to a brain eating amoeba.

“I am not a parasite!”

“But I meant parasite affectionate, not parasite derogatory.” You pout at him, looking up at him through your pretty eyelashes, and his resolve crumbles instantly. He really is too whipped at this point. You got him wrapped around your finger, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Well, actually, if you think about it, Chenle is the one paying for the date then since it’s his money,” you muse aloud before your eyes widen. “Oh my god, does that mean we share a sugar daddy now?”

“You know what, you’re right. Maybe we can convince Dream: Worth It to sponsor our dates, too,” Jisung says, the gears in his head turning, and you agree. “As a broke college student, nothing is better than free food.”

“But first”—Jisung pulls out his phone—“I’m buying those milkshakes and fries. My treat.” He proudly puffs out his chest as he adds the items to his cart. “I’ll even splurge and add in the five dollar deal for twenty chicken nuggets.”

You laugh, leaning over and placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, giddily smiling when his cheeks turn rosy. “So I get the cutest boyfriend in the universe and a whole free meal all in one afternoon? I think my heart just skipped a beat.”

“That’s so corny,” Jisung mumbles, but he can’t suppress the pleased smile that appears on his face when you give him another kiss for good measure. Ducking his head bashfully, he confesses in the softest, quietest voice:

“Mine did, too.”

One new notification: jisungpwarkuploaded a new video!

tytrackcommented:

my baby jisung come visit my restaurant with your new gf anytime~ ❤️❤️

notanimpastacommented:

do you have a moment to talk about my bsf our lord and savior honeyfairy

honeyfairyreplied:

pwarkjisungreplied:
Yes. Always

bigheadkingreplied:
@ pwarkjisung bro is astronomically down bad

bigheadkingcommented:

@ notanimpasta YOU SNITCHED ????

notanimpastareplied:
THERE WAS NO RULE AGAINST IT

bigheadkingreplied:
you’re lucky you’re cute

bigheadkingcommented:

just fell on my knees in target

notanimpastareplied:
aw sweetheart you really did fall for me

pwarkjisungreplied:
@ notanimpasta this is kinda cute in a gross way but it’s not about me and the loml so i’m deleting your comment

honeyfairyreplied:
@ pwarkjisung i’m the love of your life?

pwarkjisungreplied:
@ honeyfairy maybe

bigheadkingreplied:
@ notanimpasta guess it’s our cue to leave

rapperpunzelcommented:

dear god if you’re gonna make me forever alone please stop showing me coupletoks amen

jenojamcommented:

congrats y/n and jisung~

appletatercommented:

wow the train tracks are looking super comfy

goofys.chucklecommented:

i work at target and saw some guy fall on his knees

sheepshreplied:
@ goofys.chuckle can confirm. i was the cash register

bigheadkingreplied:
@ goofys.chuckle can confirm. i was the guy who fell on his knees

marklyrawrreplied:
@goofys.chuckle yo Alex from target is that you??

goofys.chucklereplied:
@marklyrawr omg should i get you a mustache shirt, draw you an infinity sign tattoo, and play arctic monkeys

marklyrawrreplied:
@goofys.chuckle?????

goofys.chucklereplied:
@marklyrawr sorry i thought you’re in your 2014 justgirlythings tumblr era since you’re using refs from the stone age

donutkillmyvibereplied:
@ marklyrawr i’m sorry babe he’s right i can’t defend your honor here

showmethemonetreplied:
@ donutkillmyvibe NEVER ADMIT HE WHO MUST NOT BE TAGGED IS RIGHT !!!! NOW HE’S GONNA BRAG ABOUT IT TO ME  ALL DAY  

goofys.chucklereplied:
@ showmethemonet it’s tough having a perfect bf who’s always right, isn’t it

showmethemonetreplied:
@ goofys.chuckle ykw i’ll give it to you here, you’re right it’s very tough and that’s why i gotta break up with him

goofys.chucklereplied:
@ showmethemonet … i didn’t think this through. can i have a redo

goofys.chucklereplied:
@ showmethemonet angel why aren’t you replying anymore

goofys.chucklereplied:
@ showmethemonet hello ???

goofys.chucklereplied:
@ showmethemonet pls pick up the phone, it’s your very lovable cute boyfriend calling

10velycommented:

this is so cute lemme just ‍♂️

jungjaeprincecommented:

congrats jisung and y/n :)

peachyangelcommented:

they grow up so fast

itsmebetchreplied:
@ peachyangel stop i literally teared up over this like they’re so cute

pwarkjisungreplied:
@itsmebetch ik we are ☺️

honeyfairyreplied:
@itsmebetch you’re next ☺️

itsmebetchreplied:
@ honeyfairy @ pwarkjisung STOP THE MATCHING EMOJIS TOO (also @ honeyfairypls kindly be quiet ty love)

peachyangelreplied:
@ itsmebetch this is too cute im crying don’t touch me rn

nanaislovecommented:

MY BABY IS ALL GROWN UP NOW ✨

letswonwoncommented:

marklyrawrcommented:

ayoooo let’s gooo congrats dudes !!!

takoyaki_princecommented:

congrats jisung and y/n ! !

moominjuncommented:

this is so cute i’m gonna go take a nap on the highway now

appletaterreplied:
@moominjuni think i’ll join you ‍♀️‍♀️

goofys.chucklereplied:
@moominjun@appletater aw you two are planning a date together

moominjunreplied:
@goofys.chuckle i woke up and did not choose violence today but it’s never too late to change my decision

goofys.chucklereplied:
@moominjun

​​moominjunreplied:
@ goofys.chuckle i will haunt you

goofys.chucklereplied:
@ moominjun i look forward to interviewing you on dream unsolved

​​moominjunreplied:
@ goofys.chuckle

sheepshcommented:

gotta watch out for selener

sungchannelcommented:

so glad tomorrow isn’t promised

apado gwenchana god commented:

nice

: best friend! Mark x streamer!reader

: Level Up hosted by @neohub​

: fluff, angst, smut, best friends to lovers au, gamers au

: 18+

: cursing, mentions of blood (from a cut), oral (giving and receiving), choking, dirty talk, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, nipple play

: 3.5k

: You and Mark are testing out a new game, set in a virtual world no one has traveled to before. But when a malfunction happens during transport, you have to be honest with each other and work together to make it out alive. 

: Thank youuuuu to @wordycerty for reading over this for me. I’ve never written anything like this in this depth and I was nervous writing this. ❤

“Are you ready?”

You zip up your tight black leather suit, quickly throwing your hair into a ponytail.

“Yep! I’ve been waiting forever for this day.”

Today you are testing the new role-playing game Wanderlust Rewind, a virtual reality game that lets you zoom into the game and live in Aria. You are a popular online streamer, and your best friend Mark works for the company developing the game. When he told you about the game, you begged him to let you test it. You are a big fan of the games, and you knew it would be an excellent opportunity to work with them. 

You bribed Mark with everything you can think of, with him finally giving in at the last minute. In exchange for making your delicious chocolate chip cookies from scratch for a month, you would also get to stream the gameplay online. It wasn’t a paying job, but it’s well worth it, as you get to test the game out with your best friend. 

“Come on, slowpoke,” Mark calls out from outside your changing room. “I wanna get in there early.”

Right. But first, a quick check in the mirror. Your suit hugs your body in all the right places and your lace-up boots are secure on your feet. You grab your matching metallic helmet, encrypted with a virtual reality chip that is supposed to transfer you to Aria. Surely you aren’t the only person who would’ve slept with the thing. Your excitement over this day kept you up past midnight.

“You need to haul your ass—”

You open the door before Mark could finish his sentence, his eyes practically popping out of his sockets. You could tell he got a haircut, his freshly dyed gray hair standing out like a silver wind. Mark is a handsome guy, with his almond-shaped eyes, beautiful skin, and nice body. Since you met at a convention a couple of years ago, he’s been your best friend, but honestly, it feels like you have known him forever. Feelings are there, but you always put them to the side, afraid of the possibility of him not feeling the same way. You aren’t the type to wear your heart on your sleeve, and you prefer it that way. It made you feel safer.

“Are you done bitchin’?” You tease him, nudging his shoulder.

He rolls his eyes, walking you towards the testing area where you two will be playing the game.

“How come you aren’t wearing a suit like me?” You ask, pointing at his outfit. Mark opts to wear a black suit with a white shirt underneath. He carries his helmet in your hand, similar to yours. 

“I wanted to be comfortable,” he shrugs, unlocking the door.

“And who the hell is comfortable wearing a suit and tie?” You snort. “Just admit it, you want to moonlight Men in Black.”

“Maybe,” he quips, guiding you inside.

Chatter fills the testing area, with consoles and gaming systems at each table. There are snacks and drinks on one end of the site, nowhere near the tech to prevent accidental spills. Mark shows you where you will be testing: a big screen with a keyboard where you have to enter your credentials to get started. Two employees approach you, one with snowy white hair and the other with very short black hair, wearing the same suit as Mark.

“This is Jisung and Renjun,” Mark introduces you to them, and you shake their hands. “They will be here to help us out if anything goes wrong.

“I mean, nothing should go wrong, right?” You ask, looking at the big monitor.

“It shouldn’t,” he assures you. “But we need to be prepared just in case.”

You nod, putting on your helmet while Jisung secures a utility belt around your waist.

“The belt has things that will help you get through the game,” Renjun states, as if he was reading your mind. “Mark can explain the rest once you arrive at Aria. So, go ahead and put in your info with the keyboard.”

You enter what’s asked of you on the monitor, with Mark following suit behind you. A nervous excitement washes over you, as you have never traveled to virtual reality before. You have seen other streamers do it, and while it seems fun, you’ve always feared something going wrong and being stuck in that world forever. Clearly, you have watched a little too much of Sword Art Online.

“Hey.” Mark touches your hand, interrupting your thoughts. “I’m with you, okay? If anything goes wrong, they will be here to pull us out. Plus, we can still talk to them with this.” He pulls out a walkie-talkie, and you feel more at ease. “Here we go,” Mark enters a code on the keyboard, and an animated character appears.

“Ready, player one and two?” The automated voice booms out of the screen.

You look at Mark, who has his helmet on, and you nod, looking at the monitor.

“Very well. Let’s get started.”

Millions of red codes in flash in front of your helmet, the room spiraling counter-clockwise with a powerful force pushing you forward. You zoom into darkness, a second later landing on a cold black floor, with Mark coming behind you.

“What is this place?” You ask, dusting off your butt.

“I- I’m not sure.”

You snap your head at Mark in disbelief, your eyes glaring at him through your helmet.

“What does that mean? Are we lost?”

“Jisung, Renjun, are you seeing this?” Mark speaks into the walkie-talkie.

There is static reported back, and your heart sinks further to your stomach. You knew this was a bad idea, being the first person to test this game. But you wanted to have the inside scoop on this, allowing you to spend time with Mark. Kill two birds with one stone, as they say.

Welcome, players one and two. 

You jump at the automated voice; Mark looks around to see where the voice is coming from. 

“Coda,” Mark calls out. “Where are we?”

“You are in Limbus,” the voice responds. “This is the gateway between Aria and the world you know.”

What the fuck. You think to yourself. I knew I should’ve just kept my big mouth shut and waited until the game was released and-

“Hey Mark, can you hear us??” Jisung’s voice booms through the walkie-talkie, cutting through your thoughts. 

You walk over to Mark to listen to what he has to say.

“You are stuck in Glitch Mode,” Renjun reveals. “Remember when we encountered it while you set up the game?”

You hear Mark gulp, with tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“The only way to get out of there is to complete whatever two tasks Coda has you to, and then we should be able to transport you out of there.”

“What two tasks?” You ask. “Mark, what are they talking about?”

Mark doesn’t answer right away, instead opting to sit on the cold, hard floor. You take a seat next to him, desperate to figure out what is happening.

“So when we tested the game, we came across Glitch Mode before and barely made it out. Coda comes up with two challenges we have to do and we have to pass. Otherwise, we will never return to the real world.”

You sit for a minute, taking in the information he just told you.

“So, what do we have to do?” You press on. “I wish you would’ve told me this before I agreed to do this.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Mark pleads, taking your hand. “I thought we had it all fixed before today. You have to know that I would never put you in danger.”

You believe him, though the anger you felt is now replaced with anxiety. A timer appears in front of you two, with a woman dressed in a suit and tie appearing next to it. You reach out to the woman only to realize she is a hologram.

“I will ask you one question. Answer them truthfully and within ten seconds, and we will move to the final round. The card in your belt will show us your vitals and tell us if you are telling the truth. If you do not pass the test, we will transport you to another realm, never to return.”

You and Mark look at either other, nodding in silent agreement on what you must do.

“Very well then,” the hologram says. “Player two, what is something you have been hiding from player one?”

Your head snaps up, your eyebrows raised at the possibility of Mark ever hiding anything from you. You two are best friends, and he tells you everything. The timer on the clock ticks down to five, and he still hasn’t given an answer.

“Mark, hurry up and answer,” you shout, your patience wearing thin.

Four.

Three.

Two.

On-

“I am in love with her.”

The timer immediately stops, the hologram disappears, and a motorcycle appears. You are more confused than ever, not only by the bike but also by Mark being in love with you. He’s never let on that he cared about you more than friendship, and under different circumstances, you would be happy to hear him say that. But now you must focus on you both getting the fuck out of here.

“You passed,” the automated voice speaks. “Your last task is to ride this motorcycle to the end of the wall and back. Beware of the flying discs.”

“What flying dis-”

A disk of fiery copper flies past your head, missing you by literal inches. You jump back, obviously shaken, and Mark puts on his helmet, hopping on the motorcycle.

“Come on,” he reaches out his hand, and you grab it, hopping on behind him.

Begin.

Mark speeds into the unknown, flying disks hurling at you two. Mark bobs and weaves like he does this for sport, and you grab onto him tighter, afraid that you will fall.

“I got you, okay?” He yells, getting close to the wall.

He drifts the motorcycle, spinning around and turning him back to where you came from. You turn around, and three disks are coming at you in speed, the sparks flying off it as if it’s ready to cut.

“Mark, they’re gaining on us!” you shout.

He presses his foot on the pedal further, speeding into where there is now a finish line. You can feel the heat of the disks moving closer to your back as you cross the line, the disks disappearing into pixilated dust. You hurriedly climb off the motorcycle, Mark following suit and the bike disappearing shortly after.

“Congratulations,” the cold automated voice says. “You have passed the tests. Where would you like to go?”

You put on your helmet, moving closer to Mark.

“I want to get the fuck out of here-”

“Our world,” Mark interrupts. “Take us back to our world.”

“Very well then.”

You put on your helmet just in time before you are zapped back to the testing area, falling flat on your butt once again. Jisung and Renjun rush over to you both, checking your vitals and making sure you are okay. You look over at Mark and notice a notable cut on his arm, assuming they came from the flying disks.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, taking a closer look.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” he nods. “I’m just going to get this covered up. It’s not that deep.”

You look at the rest of the area, everyone giving you curious looks. Your face is hot with embarrassment, and your anxiety ticks up. Finally, you take off your helmet, leaving it on the desk and undoing your utility belt.

“I’m going to go home,” you announce. “That was… an ordeal, to say the least.”

“Let me take you home,” Mark offers, hopping out.

“No, it’s okay, honestly,” you wave him off. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” he insists.

He grabs his keys and tells Jisung and Renjun he is leaving for the day. You wanted to be alone and think about what just happened, on top of Mark confessing his feelings for you. This wasn’t how you imagined how this would go. You always thought it would happen over dinner; you casually tell him you like him, and he feels the same, agreeing to be together and sealing the deal with a kiss.

He walks you down the hallway to the changing room, where you get the rest of your things. You sit down on the chair, your mind racing with everything that just happened, including almost losing your life in a game you’d been excited to play. Today is a fucked up day; you would if you could go back in time and erase despite Mark confessing. 

You continue to sit and think, aware that the time passes by, but you are so lost in your thoughts that you don’t care. It isn’t until Mark knocks on the door that you snap back into reality.

“Are you okay in there?” his voice booms through the door.

“Y-yeah,” you clear your throat.

You grab your things and open the door, nearly bumping into Mark. He locks the door, looking at you with eyes you’ve never seen before: a look of sadness and worry.

“I know you’re not okay,” Mark says. “I would never have you test a game with that kind of risk. You have to know that.”

“I know,” you sigh. “It’s just… a lot happened in there? Not only that, but I am sure that’s not how you wanted to tell me you have feelings for me.”

His shoulders fall and he nods, agreeing with you, shoving his hands in his pockets. You gaze at his arm, his cut replaced with a bandaid, and you feel relieved that he’s okay.

“I planned to tell you, you know.”

You look at him, trying to hold back a smile.

“I wanted to take you out on a date,” Mark elaborates. “I had this idea to take you up to the mountains where you love to hike, and I was going to plan a picnic there. Bring all your favorite foods and our Nintendo switches, and just hang out. Then boom, tell you how I feel and go from there. I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you.”

You can imagine yourself sitting on top of the mountain on that date, with your favorite blanket spread out and Mark laying on top of it. Nothing else would make you happier.

“You still can,” you confess.

Mark’s head snaps up, a broad smile spreading across his face,

“I know we just went through a life or death kind of thing right now, but I promise I’m not speaking from that place. I’ve had feelings for you for a while, and I’m relieved you feel the same way, even though I wish it didn’t come out like that.” You move closer to him, smiling softly.

“Again, I’m sorry you had to go through that—”

“Mark, honestly, it’s fine,” you assure him. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

You can’t stop looking at him. With his clear skin, sharp jaw, and boyish looks, it’s no wonder you fell for him. He is a good person with a soft heart, everything you’ve ever wanted, wrapped up in a black suit.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he says, his face inching closer to yours.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you chuckle, your nose almost touching his.

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?” he whispers.

“Please.”

He kisses you with a passion you never knew he had for you. It was intense and sincere, and it meant so much to you at that moment. Your hands trail to his shirt, undoing the buttons and carefully pushing it off to avoid messing up the band-aid. You let him unzip your suit, rushing to take it off and undoing your shoes all in one go. You eagerly pull at his pants, unbuckling his belt and desperate to pull his dick out.

“Do you really want to do this here?” Mark whispers, pulling his boxers down.

His dick springs free and your mouth waters. You’ve never wanted to suck on something so much in your life. You get on your knees, licking your lips before tasting him. He hisses softly, his hands grabbing your hair.

“Please don’t make me wait a second longer.”

You slowly take Mark’s well-endowed dick into your mouth, challenging yourself to take him all in. He groans at the feel of your warm, velvet mouth around his sensitive head. His groan stuttered, and he pulled your hair tighter as that warmth stretched further and further down his shaft. Your fingers dig into his thighs, holding him steady while you bob, sucking him in deeper and deeper with each involuntary snap of his hips.

“I’m going to enjoy fucking this pretty mouth of yours,” he grunts, his hands now placed on your cheeks.

His strokes are unrelenting, the slurping sounds your mouth is making turning you on. Your fingers trace down to your center, rubbing it softly as you match his rhythm.

“So good,” you cry out.

Your dripping wet core is spilling over your panties, his long veiny cock hitting the back of your throat with no mercy. Mark bends over, unhooking your bra and feeling your breasts. You are sensitive to his touch, your nipples perking as his thumb caresses them softly. Finally, he drags himself out of your mouth, lifting you up and gifting you with a kiss.

“Take off your panties,” he commands.

You do as you’re told, sliding them down your legs. He bends you over a chair, your ass up in the air as he gets on his knees. He smacks your ass, and it excites you, making you bite your lip. You feel his warm breath against your entrance, and he delves his tongue inside you, your insides immediately surrendering to him.

“Fuck,” you moan, gripping the chair.

Mark is sloppy, burying his face deep into your pussy and lapping all over your clit. He is very good at this, humming softly in pleasure and driving you inside. If you thought you had feelings for him before, it deepened as your release came close.

“Mark, I’m gonna cu—”

Rattle. Rattle.

The door shakes, and your body freezes, afraid of someone walking in on in this compromising position.

“Uh, this room is occupied!” Mark yells. 

“Oh, sorry!”

You hear shuffling and footsteps moving away from the door. Mark suddenly gets up; his hands slide up your legs and touch your slit. He stuffs two fingers inside you, thrusting into you slowly while his thumb rubs your bud. Your thighs shiver in pleasure, and you cover your mouth as you can barely contain yourself.

“I wish I could do this longer,” Mark whispers. “But we have to hurry before we get caught. I’m not the only one with a key.”

“Okay,” you whisper. He reluctantly removes his fingers from you, replacing them with his cock, lining up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you are comfortable and adjusting to him well. His slow, dangerous strokes hit every spot, and you feel yourself coming undone. Your hips match his rhythm, guiding his hand to your throat. You squeeze it softly, silently telling him it’s okay. You can handle him.

“Fuck, so tight,” he grunts. “I’m going to make you cum all over me.”

“Please,” you beg. “Go harder.”

His strokes become deeper, squeezing your throat tighter as he pushes you against the wall. He fucks you mercilessly, skin-clapping noises spreading throughout the room, and you can’t think straight. You don’t bother being quiet; Mark is fucking you so good that you don’t care who hears it. You feel him twitch inside you and your walls tighten around him, signaling your release. 

“I can’t take it,” you cry. “I’m gonna cum.”

He pounds hard, your thighs shivering as your orgasm courses through you. Your body explodes with delight, a loud cry escaping your lips, quickly muffled by Mark’s hand. He kisses the back of your neck, his breathing more rigid, and this thrusts harder. He snaps into you two more times before pulling out, spilling his load onto the floor, squirts of cum landing close to your feet. You turn around, your face hot and out of breath. Your legs are shaking, and you barely make it to the chair before collapsing.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks softly.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Just need a minute, haha.”

He grabs your suit and shoes, helping you get dressed before getting himself ready. You can’t suppress the smile on your face, a fucked up situation leading to a happy ending. Finally, you got your dream guy.

“I still want to take you home, if that’s okay?” Mark probed, reaching for your hand.

You smile, leaning in and kissing him, your heart fluttering like butterflies in a field.

“Please,” you grab your things. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

JISUNG TEXT RECS

Bestfriend-ish Texts w Jisung

Boyfriend!Jisung Instagram Ver.

Boyfriend!Jisung Snaps

Daily Texts w Bf!Jisung

Fluffy Texts

In Which Jisung Can’t Bring Himself to Tell You He Likes…

Jaemin Exposes Jisung’s Crush in the Group Chat

You’re Nervous to Meet his Friends

❥JISUNG NAVI

[main masterlist] [nct masterlist] updated 7-25-21

water fountain

pairings: lee donghyuck x reader, na jaemin x reader

genre/s:suggestive, angst

warnings: suggestive content

word count: 0.8k

a/n: a little surprise lolol, hope you enjoy!

tags:@neowritingsnet@czennienet@kpopscape@nct-writers@culture-cafe@ultkpopnetwork

—

Stars glow bewitchingly under the noxious night, enchanting anyone under its gleam. In the serenade of late night’s dim glimmer, the stars act as a choir; singing in infinite patterns.

The extravagant Chevrolet Corvette stays parked exquisite, allowing heads to steal glances as it appears deluxe; proving that luxury is a definite thief of scrutiny.

Graciously, Donghyuck grabs you by the hips; pulling your delicate body in as you fall breathlessly onto his figure. The Lee catches your plumped lips in his after brief departure, despising any loss of physical contact. He repeatedly leaves honeyed whispers into your ear, allowing your breath to get stuck up your throat in bewilderment.

Donghyuck holds your body tighter inside his arms, guiding your body towards the Chevrolet Corvette’s back seat as it is more spacious in comparison to the passenger seat.

Your hands find their way towards his soft locks, plunking them eagerly as your lips move together messily; not exactly in concurrence. Donghyuck’s hands continuously travel on your exquisitely breathtaking body, feeling every inch of it on top of his own.

“My phone-” You whisper breathily as the bothersome noise of your phone ringing agitates you both. Donghyuck lets out a groan in grievance, stretching out his arm in order to reach for your phone; acknowledging that it could be extensive.

“Who is it?” You ask as he stares at the caller id, letting out a chuckle afterwards.

“Na is calling, cute.” Donghyuck states as a smile out of mockery commences to play on his face.

“Did you have a date or something?” He questions gravelly, dropping your phone onto the passenger seat as his lips find their way back onto yours.

You throw your head back as his lips come in contact with your bare neck, one of his hands rests on your hip as the other fiddles with the hem of your top.

You hardly succeed in letting out a “Yeah” since Donghyuck’s lips sucking on your neck don’t exactly allow you to put together meaningful words.

“You’re bad.” Donghyuck whispers on top of your lips as he reaches towards your phone once again, switching it to silent mode.

“Tell me about it.” You roll your eyes, stating one last time before the phone is long forgotten.

The two of you focus all of your attention on each other for the night inside the Chevrolet Corvette, bodies pressed tightly onto each other. You feel exceedingly captivated by the burnette, much more than you would like to admit. From the way his body delicately dances on top of yours to the way your name easily slips between his lips. Everything about Lee Donghyuck is more than enchanting and you seem to lose yourself under his spell even more as time passes, melting into every touch.

Though, things don’t feel as euphoric for the Na. A bouquet of dazzling red roses sit loosely inside his grip, about to fall any moment. Jaemin stands still in front of a water fountain, the water fountain you had told him to meet up with you just hours prior.

His expression is dull, no emotion seems visible yet he feels as though tears can stream down his face any second if someone ever slightly touches his figure.

Na Jaemin is absolutely broken. He blames himself for falling in so deep to the point where he has no idea how to get up.

You were the one who reached out. You were the one who told him to wait for you by the water fountain, where you had first confessed your love for him.

Oh, Jaemin swears that he would give up anything and everything to go back to those times. To the times where you visibly held so much adoration for him. To the times when his love received some type of reaction, some type of response.

I guess this is the reality of life, he whispers the bitter truth to himself as the tears he had been holding in for so long finally escape his eyes, coming in contact with his cheeks.

By now, Na Jaemin drops the bouquet made of alluring red roses onto the ground. He is crying, he really is crying because of you. The Na feels pathetic, absolutely pathetic. Yet he can’t seem to help it. He can’t seem to put a stop to the tears falling from his eyes.

That day, his hope gets destroyed. His plans of confessing the amount of adoration he holds for you get crashed.

Na Jaemin couldn’t tell you he loved you by the water fountain, though his tears sure were an accompaniment to the water falling out of the fountain.

After all, water fountains are always crying. How could he have expected to live through a pleasant experience with you in front of a broken water fountain?