author's note: again, i feel like it's been forever since I posted something here 😭. BUT i have returned with something that's been playing in my head for some time now. i don't know if any of you are Stardew Valley lovers, but i've spent way too many hours on that game 😅. regardless, i hope you enjoy sulky and dramatic Haechan because i love him. thanks for reading ^ ^
Spending a full day with your boyfriend was a rarity, much less a whole weekend. Given Haechan’s usual blur of back-to-back schedules, you expected him to grow bored the second his vacation time started. Instead, he ended up spending more time at your apartment, claiming his place was too quiet. Yet, he didn’t seem to mind the silences between you. Whether you were folding laundry or buried in work documents, he just wanted to be where you were.
That’s why he was a little sulky when he found you occupied one Saturday afternoon. He had just emerged from the shower, aggressively drying his hair with a towel when he saw you playing the Nintendo Switch.
Initially, he was surprised to find you playing a video game. It went without saying that he was the gamer in the relationship— you could barely comprehend his explanations when he tried to explain how PUBG worked. Having the roles reversed for a change certainly didn’t occur.
You heard slippers padding across the living room floor, but didn’t lift your gaze from the television screen.
“Whatcha playing?” Haechan asked, stepping up behind you.
“Stardew Valley,” you hummed in reply, eyes locked on your character.
“Oh, that farm game,” he recognized after taking a closer look.
You smiled as he settled into the cushion next to you. He observed you for a few minutes, chuckling at the little hearts floating above your pixelated livestock.
“Heh, your farm is cute. Are those all your animals?” He asked, pointing to the cows and chickens happily mingling in the grass.
You nodded, leaning against his shoulder. “Yep. The brown cow is Mark, and then I named one of my white chickens Renjun.”
“Ha! They’d lose it if they saw this.” Haechan threw his head back with a laugh.
He stayed by your side, watching you maneuver around the farm. The way everything in your greenhouse was meticulously organized didn’t surprise him in the slightest. You excitedly babbled about your crop layout along with your two full rows of strawberries and designated patches for blueberries and ancient fruit. He took it all in with an amused grin.
But the smile on his face froze when you went into the farmhouse to drop off some items in storage.
“Wait a second. Who is that?” Haechan asked, pointing at the screen.
You blinked in confusion, then let out a small laugh as you realized his finger was aimed right at the blond figure by the kitchen sink,
“Oh, that’s just Sam— my husband.”
“Your husband?!”
Haechan’s eyes widened as you clicked on the character, showing a full portrait of the boy with spiky golden hair, bright green eyes, and a warm smile. Below him, the textbox read: Hey. I know I joke around a lot, but I want you to know that I seriously love you.
Your boyfriend appeared to be riding a wild roller coaster of emotions. However, you couldn’t quite pinpoint whether he was experiencing horror, betrayal, or denial.
Eyebrows practically raised to his hairline, he shouted, “You’re MARRIED in this game?!”
“Yeah.” You shrugged casually, steering your character toward a side room where two small children in blue and pink outfits stood. “And those are our kids.”
“You have KIDS?!”
“Hyuck…” You cast an exasperated glance his way, feeling a sudden wave of frustration mixed with fondness.
He threw his towel over the armrest in full outrage. “So basically, you’re cheating on me.”
Your lips parted to protest, but Haechan was already on a rampage— hands digging into his hair, pacing behind the couch as if you’d just divulged some massive secret.
“How can you be married to someone else and have a family?” He cried. “Did you suddenly forget that you have a boyfriend?”
You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “Hyuck, just come sit back down. You’re overreacting.”
“What do you even see in him anyway?” He demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at the TV.
“In Sam? Well, I like that he’s a musician and sometimes he’ll make me instant pancakes in the morning,” you hummed. “He’s always really sweet to me.”
Haechan scoffed in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”
You bit your lip to hold back a laugh as he pressed a hand to his sternum. “Baby, I’m a musician. And I can make you real pancakes without some dumb box.”
With a sigh, you opened your inventory to pause the game and set the controller down on the coffee table. You rose up from your seat, taking his hands to pull him back over to the sofa.
“It’s just a game, babe. I’m just having a little fun,” you attempted to reason with him.
Haechan sank back down beside you. “Still… I can’t believe my girlfriend is cheating on me with an NPC.”
He didn’t stand back up, but his shoulders remained slumped, and a grumpy pout stayed firmly on his lips as you resumed the game. After giving him a few minutes for his theatrical anger to fade, you lightly nudged his elbow with yours.
“You know, I did ask if you wanted to play with me a month ago,” you pointed out. “Then I would’ve married you instead. But you were too busy playing League of Legends with Jisung.”
His expression softened slightly, though he still grumbled under his breath. “Yeah, well, he barely plays with me anymore. And I didn’t get into a relationship with any female characters in my games.”
“Oh my gosh, you are such a child!” You laughed, kicking him away with your foot.
Your actions only made him pout further, looking like a puppy banished to the corner. Setting the controller down again, you rested your chin in your hand and looked at him.
“Are you just going to sulk about this forever?”
He buried his face in a couch pillow, pretending to wail. “What are you gonna do about it if I do?”
Haechan was fully aware of how ridiculous he was being at this point. But he was determined to milk his saltiness for all it was worth. It was clearly working because you scooted to cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet your affectionate gaze. Then you proceeded to shower his entire face with kisses. He tried his best to remain stoic, but a soft giggle managed to escape.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry for being stupid,” he relented, pulling your hands down to intertwine your fingers with his. “I just hate the thought of you with anyone except me.”
You gently stroked his hair and cooed. “I know, baby. Tell you what— if it makes you feel better, I can start a brand new farm with you. We can build it together, get married, and do everything as a team.”
“Hm, I like the sound of that,” Haechan murmured. He pulled you into a tight hug and snuggled his face against your collarbone.
“Only if that Sam guy stays twelve feet away from you at all times.”
You shook your head with a smile, sinking into his embrace and squeezing him back. Hugs with Haechan were always the coziest.
Even though you had spent countless hours on your current save, throwing away all that progress felt like a small price to pay to make your boyfriend happy. As extra and goofy as he could be, his deep feelings for you always shone through, and that warmed your heart more than anything.
warnings: mentions of sexual harassment, descriptions of violence
word count: ~1k
summary: One wrong move from a stranger is all it takes to snap Jaemin’s restraint. A night out takes a dark turn, leaving his wife to pick up the pieces of a fight that never should have happened.
Jaemin wasn’t sure which hurt worse, the pulse of pain through his ribs or the deafening silence you had maintained since leaving the station. He caught his reflection in the mirror, taking in his disheveled hair and his black dress shirt missing a button at the collar. His face was marked with bruises and cuts. This was not how either of you imagined tonight would go.
Haechan had practically begged the two of you to come to the club with him for his birthday. That’s how you ended up sitting at the bar under the neon lights, nursing a soda while you watched your friends dance. Jaemin had gotten up to use the restroom, and you were already wishing he hadn’t left when a man smelling of cheap cologne approached you.
“Hey there, beautiful. Mind if I buy you a drink?” he leaned in with an expensive grin.
You recoiled instinctively, raising your left hand so the light caught the diamond ring on your finger. “No, thank you. I’m married.”
You turned to scan the room for Jeno or Haechan, but the stranger stepped into your path, his hand sliding onto your waist.
“I don’t see him anywhere,” he smirked, digging his fingers into the silk of your dress.
“Turn around and you will,” Jaemin’s voice cut through the noise like a blade. He wrenched the man’s hand off of you and pulled you firmly behind his shoulder.
The man let out a jagged, ugly laugh. “Relax, man. I was just looking for someone to have fun with.”
“Then look elsewhere because she’s mine,” Jaemin glowered.
The guy held up his hands in a fake shrug. “Fine, whatever,” he scoffed, “Doubt she’s worth the trouble in bed, anyway.”
That comment snapped the last thread of Jaemin’s restraint. Before the man could brush past to leave, Jaemin’s knuckles met his jaw with a sickening crack.
“Jaemin!” you gasped in horror.
What followed was a chaotic mess of more punching, shoving, and swearing until they were pulled apart by security guards.
The next thing you knew, an hour had bled away at the police station while you sat under the buzzing fluorescent lights giving statements. Thankfully, Jaemin was let off with only a warning, but you were still fuming the whole drive home.
Your heels hit the floor with an aggressive thud, echoing through the hallway while he silently toed off his own shoes. He trailed after you into the kitchen, his eyes following your sharp movements as you grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and pulled the first aid kit from a cabinet.
“Sit,” you ordered, pointing toward the counter stool.
Jaemin obeyed without a word, suppressing wince as he climbed onto the seat. You placed the ice pack firmly against his bruised knuckles, the only sound in the room being the sharp click of the first aid kit snapping open. The heavy silence stretched on as you soaked a cotton swab in antiseptic.
His eyes followed your steady hands while you treated his wounds. Even with your brows knitted together and your lips pressed into a thin line, he thought you looked breathtaking. He found it endearing how gentle your touch was, despite the residual fury in your eyes.
“You know,” Jaemin teased softly, trying to catch your eye, “you look really hot when you’re mad at me.”
You shot him a flat, unamused glare and pressed the antiseptic cotton harder against his cheek.
“Ow! Okay, okay— I’m sorry!” he hissed, flinching away from your hand.
“You’re lucky you’re not in jail right now,” you finally spoke, the anger finally draining out of you. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? I was so scared when he swung back at you.”
Jaemin’s playful expression faded. “I’m sorry, baby. I just… I couldn’t listen to him talk to you like that. It’s bad enough that he put his hands on you.”
Sighing, you reached for a bandage. “I know you were protecting me, and I appreciate it,” you said, pressing the band-aid to his cheek gently this time. “But still, fighting is bad. There are other ways to get your point across without violence.”
He reached with his uninjured hand, catching yours to draw you closer. “You’re right,” he murmured, a flicker of mischief returning to his eyes. “Next time I’ll try to use my words. Or I’ll just make out with you the second another guy tries to make a move.”
You rolled your eyes at his absurdity, taking some gauze out of the kit to dab at the blood on his bottom lip. Your face was inches away from his, close enough that your warm breath fanned across his skin, making his heart beat faster.
“There,” you whispered, setting the gauze aside. “All done.”
Before you could step away, he hooked a hand around your waist and pulled you into the space between his legs. “It still hurts. Kiss me better?”
“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.
But you leaned in anyway and pressed a soft, chaste peck to the corner of his mouth. You started to pull away, but Jaemin wasn’t finished. The ice pack fell away as his hand threaded through your hair to tilt your head back. He brought your lips back to his with a searing intensity that made your knees weak.
The lingering tension of the night vanished, replaced with a strong passion that lit fireworks. Jaemin’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, seeking entrance, and when you moaned into his mouth, he deepened the kiss. His hand slid down your waist, pulling you closer so that no space was left between you. The metallic taste from his lips mixed with the sweetness of your lip gloss. Your hands migrated from his shoulders to his hair, fingers tugging the dark strands as you kissed back fiercely.
When you finally parted for air, Jaemin’s gaze was heavy with affection. “I love you,” he breathed, voice dropping to a sincere whisper.
You smiled, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. “I love you too, Jaem. Promise me no more fights?”
“I promise,” he vowed, catching your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips.
You rested your head on his shoulder, letting the quiet comfort settle around you. The bruises would fade, but the promise of his love felt permanent.
summary: you thought you had mastered the art of hiding your crush for na jaemin. but secrets have a way of slipping through the cracks. and when jaemin happens to overhear a very unfiltered conversation between you and chenle, the feelings you tried so hard to protect begins to unravel.
author's note: um... so this was supposed to be just a short jaemin imagine. but i ended up building onto the story a little more. i even held back adding a bonus part (😭). i hope you guys like this story though. it's definitely not just an excuse for me to appreciate jaemin's beautiful physique (><). anyway thank you for reading ^ ^
•─────⋅⟡⋅─────⋅♡⋅─────⋅⟡⋅─────⋅♡⋅────⋅⟡⋅────•
Mid-afternoon sunlight flooded the quad, saturating a vibrance in the crisp grass. Every cloud sat in its perfectly assigned place across the clear blue sky. The unexpected brightness brought a liveliness to the air that had been missing since early November. But the glorious weather of today was an afterthought, buried beneath a backlog of something or someone else.
Seated peacefully on a blue, floral-patterned blanket, you spectated the chaos of your friends playing foot volleyball. It was quite amusing to witness Mark being aggravated by Donghyuck’s frequent calls for re-dos, and how focused Jeno was on scoring for his team. Meanwhile, Jisung and Renjun were stuck alternating as mediators referees.
However, the player that truly held your attention was Jaemin, who seemed to have left his competitive pills at home today. You watched him whiff a relatively easy kick, the ball barely bouncing off the toe of his sneaker. His laugh was cheerful and melodic, a comical contrast to Jeno’s exasperated face-palm. While his athletic side wasn’t very obvious in his lazy performance, the hard-earned results of his gym routine proved otherwise. His denim jacket had been discarded after the first round, leaving you to sigh dreamily at the sight of him in a simple white tank top.
“Earth to (Y/n)!” Chenle’s voice rang in your ears, pulling you out of your brief daze.
You’d been a little surprised when he chose to sit out on the game, but the male had claimed that he was wiped out from basketball practice in the morning. So he opted to chill with you on the sidelines and joke about how bad the guys were playing.
“Huh?” you blinked, finally turning your head toward him.
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes. “Ah, no wonder you haven’t heard a thing I just said. You’re too busy checking out Na Jaemin.”
“I was not checking him out!” You coughed, heat rushing to your cheeks. The boy only laughed at the glare you shot him, even as you hugged your knees tighter to your chest. “I was just… observing the in-group and out-group dynamics.”
“Okay, Ms. Psychology major,” Chenle teased, not sounding very convinced.
He followed your gaze to where Jaemin was stretching, while Mark and Haechan bickered over whether they should swap teams or not. “Honestly, I can’t blame you for staring. Do you see the way his deltoid pops? The dude is a monster.”
That sliver of validation allowed the tension in you to ease a little, your embarrassment giving way to genuine awe. “Right? I still can’t get over it. I don’t know how he balances med school and maintaining a physique like that.”
Chenle’s brows shot up as he fished his phone out of his pocket. “Oh yeah. These are from Tuesday,” he said, his thumb flying as he scrolled for the gym shots.
You leaned in instinctively, your eyes lighting up as Chenle showed you Jaemin at a lat pull-down machine. “Bro, do you see the vein between his shoulder and neck? The definition is insane!”
“I know, right? And look at those biceps, they’re huge!” Chenle pointed out on his screen.
Your shoulders slumped helplessly. “Gosh, a hot body like that is actually criminally insane.”
Chenle cackled, leaning in further with a conspiratorial look. “I’ve felt his muscles, you know. Like Jeno-hyung’s muscles are always rock-hard. But Jaemin-hyung’s are squishy and soft to touch. It’s really satisfying.”
A tiny, wistful sigh involuntarily escaped you. Your eyes remained fixed on Chenle’s phone screen, but your thoughts drifted toward the quiet ache that always accompanied your praises of Jaemin.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m just happy to get a glimpse of him now and then,” you mumbled, gaze lingering on the curve of his arm in another photo. “He has such a good heart, too. I don’t think there’s anyone quite like him.”
Sure, you probably sounded a bit cheesy— the kind of cliché that belonged in those rom-coms you often skipped over on Netflix. You didn’t need to see the bemused look Chenle was giving you to know that. But in this moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. The heavy secret of your feelings for Jaemin felt a little lighter now that it was out in the open.
Maybe it was because you were so caught up in the spirited commentary Chenle inadvertently pulled you into, but you didn’t notice Jaemin standing a few feet away on the grass. He had abandoned the game for a brief water break, retrieving his pink thermoflask near Jeno’s bag. His ears perked up at the sound of his name leaving Chenle’s mouth, though nothing unusual considering how talkative the younger male was. However, his posture straightened the moment he heard what you had to say.
It was unexpected, to say the least.
Listening to you talk about him in such detail, Jaemin realized he hadn’t spent nearly enough time with you. He’d never heard you use words like “bro” before, or noticed the way your hands moved in frantic, rhythmic circles when you were passionate about something. He definitely hadn’t known you liked him— not like that. The breathless sincerity in your voice hit him like a physical weight, sending a violent somersault through his chest. He forced himself to turn away, retreating toward Jisung and Haechan while a smirk tugged at his lips, refusing to fade.
Five rounds of foot volleyball and an animated two-hour dinner later, the group finally began to depart for their respective dorms and apartments. Jaemin noticed Mark lingering by your side, looking as if he were about to offer to walk you back to your apartment.
“I’ll take Eunji home. Her place is closer to mine anyway,” Jaemin announced, adjusting the collar of his jacket with a practiced nonchalance.
When his gaze found yours, the restaurant’s amber glow caught a soft twinkle in his eyes, making your heart skip a stuttering beat.
“Oh, thanks, Sunbae,” you nodded quickly.
Even with your brain running on overdrive, the first few blocks were easy, filled with lighthearted banter. The two of you spent most of the walk laughing over how worked up Mark had gotten when Haechan was relentlessly joking around on the field, and how the pestering hadn’t let up for a second during dinner.
As you turned onto the quieter street leading to your building, Jaemin shoved his hands into his pockets.
“So… I overheard a very intriguing conversation earlier today,” he began, his voice dropping into that low yet smooth register.
It was kind of frustrating, honestly. He had no idea how something as simple as a shift in his tone could make your head spin so easily.
Still, you kept your focus locked firmly on the path ahead. “Oh no. Did Jisung and Renjun get into another fight?”
“No, not exactly,” Jaemin spoke slowly, tilting his head toward you. “I think it was more along the lines of my hot body being criminally insane?”
You froze as those too-specific words sank in. “Oh… really?” you managed to reply, clinging to a desperate shred of hope that maybe some other girl passing by had said something similar.
He chewed on his lip, fighting a smug pull at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure there was also something about a specific vein on my left shoulder?”
A string of curses echoed in your head as you felt your entire face catch fire. You cursed the fact that your jacket didn't have a hood to hide in, and there wasn't a single thing in sight distracting enough to justify looking away from him.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, Sunbae!” you stammered, accepting your doomed fate. “Chenle and I were just being stupid. I-I didn’t mean to be weird or make you feel uncomfortable, or objectify you. Or-”
“(Y/n)-ah,” he interrupted, his voice acting like a tether to halt your panic. “I don’t feel objectified in the slightest. Besides, Chenle is shameless about this stuff all the time. You really shouldn't be embarrassed.”
“Yeah, but still…”
Both of you had stopped walking by now. A tiny pout had formed on your lips, and you were doing everything in your power to avoid his eyes. Although Jaemin found it incredibly cute, he had to keep his cool.
Closing the gap with a single step, he turned to face you with a flirty, lopsided grin. “Can I be honest, though?” he spoke softly. “I’d much rather you admire me from up close than at a distance.”
Your brain short-circuited for a moment, contemplating whether you heard correctly. “Up… close?”
Jaemin exhaled, a small, nervous huff of laughter escaping him. He looked away for a split second before locking eyes with you again.
“Are you free Friday night? We could go to a matcha café in Myeong-dong,” he proposed, that charming grin of his back in full force. “I heard their black sesame lattes are pretty good.”
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest from the offer alone. You didn’t recall ever telling him your go-to drink. A single breath of hesitation followed, long enough for you to sense that Na Jaemin might have been paying just as much attention as you had to him.
Slowly, you smiled. “I… I’d like that very much, Sunbae.”
Jaemin let out a sigh of relief, one that sounded involuntary, almost as if he’d been bracing himself for a rejection. You would’ve never guessed the man you’ve been crushing on for months was actually nervous about asking you out.
But those lingering nerves didn’t stop him from tucking a loose lock of hair behind your ear, the warmth in his voice making it difficult for you to breathe properly.
“Perfect. It’s a date then.”
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
The scent of toasted grain and whisked green tea hung sweet and heavy in the air. You sat across from Jaemin, hands fidgeting nervously beneath the table while you both waited for your order to be called. It didn’t help that he looked even more devastatingly attractive than usual.
Jaemin was dressed impeccably, sporting a fitted navy shirt with light piping along the shoulders. The short sleeves left little to the imagination— making you wonder if that and the light-wash jeans highlighting his narrow waist were a purposeful decision. Between his neatly parted dark hair and a complexion so silk smooth it put your own skincare routine to shame, he looked almost too good to be true.
He’d caught you staring earlier on the drive, offering a knowing smile that told you he hadn't missed a single second of your admiration. But rather than teasing, he flipped the tables about how “radiant” you looked in your black-and-white gingham-patterned a-line dress layered over a thin black long-sleeve. The steady weight of Jaemin’s fond gaze kept a persistent flush to your cheeks, but the spell was momentarily broken when the barista’s voice cut through the air.
“One iced black sesame latte and an iced americano?”
The barista slid your drinks across the counter alongside a porcelain plate holding a slice of their signature matcha crepe cake.
“On the house,” the older woman added simply, her eyes flickering between your puzzled expression and Jaemin’s unfazed grin.
After thanking her, you settled back into your seat with a sheepish look. “Maybe she gave it to us because neither of us actually ordered anything matcha-flavored at a matcha cafe.”
“Or maybe she thinks we’re a cute couple,” Jaemin inferred, his tone almost too casual as he picked up the fork.
The off-the-cuff remark seemed to stall your heart entirely. Suddenly, the grain of the oak table became incredibly interesting, finding yourself looking anywhere but his eyes to keep your mind from scrambling more than it already was.
“You can’t just say heart-fluttering things like that, Sunbae,” you muttered, voice barely reaching across the table.
Despite the deep, warm chuckle that left him, he decided against teasing you any further. Instead, he simply watched as you took a long, appreciative sip of your drink.
“Is it good?” he asked. The momentary shyness in you vanished at the mention of your drink, replaced by a genuine spark of delight.
“They make it so well here, I’m actually surprised!” you admitted, “It was really kind of you to pay for earlier. I haven’t had this in forever, since I usually keep a tight budget.”
Jaemin didn’t know why he felt such a sharp tug in his chest at those words. He looked at you, before a soft, determined smile touched his lips. “Well, then I’ll just have to make sure you get it more often.”
“Sunbae, you don’t have to— ”
“I want to,” he interjected, leaning forward. “Can I try some of yours? I’ve never tried a black sesame-flavored drink before.”
You pushed your cup toward him and observed in anticipation as he took a sip through the straw. His eyes lit up, almost identical to yours just seconds ago. “Wow. Okay, I get the hype. You have good taste, (Y/n)-ssi.”
“Thanks,” you said, taking the cup back. “My mom has always loved black sesame flavored treats, so I guess that’s why I like it so much too.”
Jaemin caught a hint of melancholy in your expression, but didn’t pry. He silently scraped a bit of the crepe cake onto his fork before holding it up toward you. “Here, you should have the first bite.”
You hesitantly took the bite he offered, the earthy matcha and cream melting perfectly together. As you settled back, the flirtations shifted into something steadier– the kind of conversation where the rest of the world starts to dim, leaving only the sound of his voice and the warmth of his attention.
“Can I ask you something, Sunbae?” you asked, your voice dipping into a more cautious tone. With the last of your jitters finally receding, there was one thing you were dying to know.
Jaemin nodded, taking another bite of cake. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s just… I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” you said, your curiosity finally winning out. “You have it all, the looks, the smarts, a bright career ahead. You could literally have any girl you want. So… why me?”
Ever since that whirlwind of a night, you kept replaying every interaction with him. You spent so long living in daydreams that you hadn’t factored in the possibility of him actually returning the sentiment. It made you wonder, had your insecurities just been clouding your judgment the entire time?
You held your breath, but the smile on his face didn’t leave. “I mean, I’ve thought you were beautiful since the day Chenle introduced us,” Jaemin confessed, thumb tracing the shell of his ear bashfully. “But do you remember that time last semester when Jisung was losing it over his midterm?”
“Yeah, that space exploration essay for his rhetoric class?” You nodded slowly, the scene playing back in your mind.
Jaemin set his fork down and leaned back in his seat. “Mhm. He told me how you stayed up the entire night to help him. You hardly knew the subject, but you did the research anyway and revised his prose, just to make sure he met every requirement before the deadline.”
You blinked in surprise; the memory had completely slipped your mind until now. It never occurred to you that Jisung would have mentioned something you had barely given a second thought.
“Hearing that… it just made me realize what a kind-hearted person you are, (Y/n)-ssi,” Jaemin said, his expression turning sincere. A smile crept onto your face, despite your best efforts.
“Well, you’re not so bad yourself, Sunbae,” you hummed quietly.
“Oh, believe me, I’ve heard,” Jaemin quipped playfully, before taking a slow, deliberate drink of his coffee.
Somehow, he had managed to keep you smiling all evening, and by the time you reached your apartment door, you weren’t ready for it to end. Perhaps sensing your mood dampening, Jaemin pulled you into his arms, drawing you against his chest in a hug.
“See you at lunch tomorrow?” he offered, stepping back just an inch to get a good look at you. “We can figure out where our second date will be then.”
Feeling spontaneously courageous, you rose onto your tiptoes and planted a feather-light kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. I had a really great time today.”
Jaemin stood there for a moment, mesmerized as you disappeared inside. He couldn’t remember the last time his heart had hammered against his ribs this fiercely. As the door clicked shut, he realized with a start that tomorrow suddenly felt like a very long time to be apart.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
In ten minutes, Jaemin was supposed to come over for your third date. After having a dinner he cooked at his place the last time, the two of you agreed on a Studio Ghibli movie marathon in the confines of your apartment. Usually, this short window would be spent on a last-minute outfit check and an extra swipe of lip tint. Contrary to your fixed routine of touch-ups, you were slumped on the counter-height table with your face hidden in your palms.
Behind you sat two trays of cracked, deflated macaron shells. The workspace in front of you was a disaster of pink splats of batter, a bowl of lumpy butter cream. To top it off, almond flour was dusted over your clothes and clung to your skin.
The three hours of baking, and not to mention the full night of researching recipes, now stared back at you mockingly. It was as if every successful dessert you’d ever made meant nothing but a tidal wave of incompetence.
Your heart plummeted upon hearing your phone buzz with a text from Jaemin. The last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this. Feeling too defeated to face him, you forced your trembling thumbs to type out a quick reply.
재민 선배: Just left the library! See you soon ^^
나: I’m so sorry, Sunbae. I’m not feeling well.
Can we reschedule for another day?
Phone tossed aside with a frustrated grunt, you pulled your knees to your chest. The macarons were only a catalyst for a deeper fear– the uncertainty of whether this date would progress into an actual relationship or simply discard the idea altogether. The inexperience alone was enough to fuel the thought that if you couldn’t hold the interest of someone like Jaemin, then you might just be better off alone.
About fifteen minutes later, your mind was still swimming in a spiral of frustration as you cleaned. You had just finished rinsing suds off the last mixing bowl when a sudden buzz from the doorbell shattered your cleaning rhythm. Quickly drying your hands on a towel, you crossed the kitchen to answer the door.
You blinked in surprise at Jaemin, who looked adorably cozy in an oversized cat-graphic hoodie. “Jaemin Sunbae? Didn’t you get my text?”
“Yeah, I did,” he nodded, stepping into the light of the entryway. “But I couldn’t just sit there knowing you weren’t feeling well. So, I brought some abalone porridge.”
“Oh Sunbae, you really didn’t have to…” You murmured, starting to feel guilty as you took the bag from him and set it on a nearby accent table.
Jaemin’s brow furrowed with sudden curiosity. He extended a hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. “Wait… is this flour?”
His gaze wandered past you to the trays of pink splatters on the kitchen counter. You cursed inwardly, realizing that any hope of maintaining the lie had vanished.
“I’m not actually sick,” you conceded with a heavy sigh. “I know you like sweets, so I wanted to surprise you with macarons. But I must’ve screwed up the folding, or the temperature, or something because they’re a disaster.”
You looked up, meeting his eyes with a crestfallen expression. “I’m sorry for making you worry. It’s just… you’re so perfect, and I wanted to be perfect for you, too. But the truth is, I’m just a mess.”
When Jaemin didn’t respond right away, you were certain that this lovely dream was finally coming to an end. Your mouth opened to apologize again, but the words died in your throat as he stepped forward and cupped your face. In the next second, he was kissing you passionately.
Suddenly, every doubt dissipated as you melted into his touch. He tilted his head, deepening the pressure until your lips parted in a small gasp of surprise. Your hands instinctively moved to catch the fabric of his hoodie. Taking the invitation, his tongue brushed against yours, a soft yet confident intrusion that made your legs feel like jelly.
The physical sensation was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours while you both tried to find your breath again.
“(Y/n)-ah,” Jaemin whispered, his voice low and raspy. “You don’t have to be ‘perfect’ for me. I just want you, the girl who secretly admires my muscles and gets flustered when I catch her. Everything else is just a bonus.”
As his words sank in, the invisible weight on your chest began to lift. “Oh,” you breathed, still dazed from the heated exchange.
A newfound ease settled between you as Jaemin insisted on helping finish cleaning the kitchen. Once dishes were washed and the counters were spotless, the two of you followed through with your original plans, curling up on the sofa as Howl’s Moving Castle played on the television.
Jaemin reached into the bowl of “failed” macarons, popping a broken pink shell into his mouth. “You know,” he chewed thoughtfully, “I think you have a gift. These taste amazing.”
You huffed lightly, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re a little biased, Sunbae.”
“No, I’m being very objective,” he countered, planting a quick kiss on your temple.
It didn’t take long for a flush to bloom across your cheeks. Keeping your eyes glued to the screen, you mumbled, “By the way… that was my first kiss earlier.”
A slow, devastating smirk spread across Jaemin’s face. “Was it?” he teased, gently lifting your chin until you had no choice but to look at him. “In that case, we probably should kiss some more so you can get used to it?”
You held back the urge to roll your eyes at his smugness. But didn’t pull away and leaned in, closing the distance between you before he even had the chance. It was a slow, mutual surrender, your mouths softly claiming each other again and again in a steady, tender cycle of affection.
While Na Jaemin still felt a little too good to be true in your world, he was slowly unraveling years of tangled insecurities with a single touch. For once, being loved without the suffocating pressure of perfection didn’t feel like a distant dream.
warnings: the reader and chenle have a fight, descriptions of kissing, mentions of reader being a little insecure too
word count: ~2k
summary: Chenle was the last person you expected to love, but now you can't imagine your life without him. When a familiar heartache tests the thin line between your two worlds, you have to decide if being opposites is what draws you together—or what will finally pull you apart.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
“I can’t believe they’re having you bleach it again,” you mumbled, your fingers threading through the soft, dark silk of Chenle’s hair.
You were well aware that the frequent hair color change was part of his career. But you couldn’t help but think about his poor scalp, especially when he complained about the thinning enough times that you’d started researching hair serums online.
Chenle glanced up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing glint. “As long as I get another scalp massage again after, I’ll survive, baby.”
Baby. The pet name sent a traitorous spark through you, an involuntary smile tugging on your lips.
If someone told you a year ago that you’d be dating Zhong Chenle, you would’ve laughed in their face. To you, he was just a good friend of Jisung— the guy who was always a little too loud, aggressively competitive, and exuded a confidence that was like a foreign language in your quiet, guarded world.
Yet, here you were sitting with him under the dim lighting of an SM practice room, feeling the weight of his head on your lap as he watched basketball highlights on his phone. A reality that you once wrote off as impossible.
“Hm, what would you do without me?” You teased, though your hand lingered in his hair a second too long.
You reached your phone to check the time, a small sigh escaping. “I should probably get going, Lele.”
Although you started to shift in your position, he stayed heavy against your thighs. The smug look on his face began to fade away.
“But you just got here,” he countered, his voice dropping into that stubborn, unyielding tone that always tried to stall your plans.
Just like the other times, you refused to let that happen. You proceeded to reach for your bag on the floor, as he reluctantly let his head lift from your lap.
“I told you I couldn’t stay for long,” you replied, looking just as crestfallen as he did. “My company dinner starts at six, and I still need to get ready.”
Chenle let out a disgruntled noise, the hair-dye talk and basketball game now forgotten.“But you hate those dinners. And I know that one guy is going to be there— the one who doesn’t know how to take a hint.”
“He’s my team leader, and I’ve already told you that it’s mandatory,” you said, pushing yourself up from the couch.
Despite the rehearsed steadiness in your tone, you could feel the air in the room shift. You could sense that Chenle wasn’t anywhere near ready for this conversation to be over.
He proved you right by rising up from the cushions, standing at full height. “Yeah, a mandatory dinner where you’ll be seated right next to him so conveniently, right?”
Chewing on your bottom lip, you knew exactly what was fueling this sudden streak of opposition. It traced back to those pick-ups after work, the way Chenle’s jaw would tighten like a coiled spring the second he saw your coworker’s hand linger on your shoulder a second too long. You’d confided in him about the numerous compliments the older man gave, ones with suggestive undertones that left you feeling cornered.
Even so, a spark of annoyance flickered in your chest. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, Chenle-ssi,” you said, your voice sharper than intended. “Don’t you think I’d choose staying here with you over some stuffy restaurant and a stupid dinner if I could?”
“Then don’t go. It’s just one dinner— it’s not like the company will collapse if you’re not there,” Chenle replied. Your hands slowly curled into fists at the disregard in his voice.
He knew how hard you were working to turn this contract into something permanent. You had told him time and again that skipping these social “obligations” was a luxury you couldn’t afford. For you, attending this dinner wouldn’t give another reason for your superiors to badmouth you.
Beyond that frustration, it was the sheer audacity of his dismissal that struck a nerve. “Funny how you’re telling me what matters, when you basically ignored everything I said about your make-up artist the other day.”
“That’s completely different,” Chenle scoffed, crossing his arms in defense.
“How is she using that sugary sweet tone with you, while sending me death glares, any different?” You challenged, blood beginning to simmer.
He rolled his eyes, as if the memory was a nuisance. “You’re just reading into it too much, (Y/n).”
The rest of the argument blew up in a blur of circular logic and heated jabs. No matter how you explained it, Chenle refused to see the parallel in your situations. He stood firm in his opinions, leaving you feeling smaller and more enraged with every passing second.
You reached your breaking point in the heavy silence that followed his last condescending comment. Gripping the strap of your purse until the leather dug into your palm, you turned toward the door.
“Are you really going to leave like this?” he called out.
Fighting back tears, you glanced back once, only to see the same belittlement persisting in his expression. Shaking your head, you quietly said, “Shame on me for not being the girlfriend you wanted.”
════════════════
That final sentence and the cold silence that followed became the soundtrack that played through your weekend on loop. Any pocket of silence was immediately filled with echoes of the fight.
You found yourself spiraling through a cycle of second-guessing every jagged word that had been thrown in the practice room. Maybe you were being too sensitive. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to bridge the gaps between his world and yours. But then anger would return, fresh and demanding. It questioned why he couldn't trust you to keep boundaries in your professional life. And if he actually cared about your feelings, why was it so easy for him to brush off your mirrored concerns?
Those thoughts continued to swim in your mind late into Monday night, refusing to sink. But the sudden drone of the doorbell cut through the mid-spiral, pulling you out of your head and back into your living room.
You opened the door and froze. Chenle stood there in his favorite black hoodie and sweats, his face partially hidden behind the sunglasses he purchased during his last tour. His dark attire only added to the heaviness of his presence in the hallway. After the exhaustion of this past week, you weren’t sure if you were ready for another round.
Your shoulders slumped preemptively as you exhaled. “Chenle, what are you doing here?”
A compassionate apology sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. You pushed aside the familiar bitterness of always being the first one to bend. For you had long ago decided that your pride wasn’t worth the risk of losing him forever.
Not another second passed before the distance between you vanished. With a desperate urgency, he cupped your face and crashed his lips against yours. A gasp caught in your throat at the sudden passion, but whatever walls you usually put so much effort into keeping up crumbled in seconds.
The moment your fingers dug into the thick cotton of his hoodie, Chenle deepened the kiss. The cool frame of his sunglasses smudged against your cheek, but you didn’t let the sensation be a distraction. He continued to chase the taste of you, his mouth pressing into yours again and again with a bruising intensity. The heat radiating from him was heavy yet intoxicating in a way that left you breathless. By the time you parted for air, your legs felt dangerously weak.
“Chenle-ssi,” you panted, clinging onto him just to stay upright. “You can’t just… kiss me every time we have a fight.”
For a heartbeat, you expected him to tilt his head and flash that endearingly arrogant smirk. But he didn’t move. He simply kept your face framed in his palms, his breath hitching in soft, uneven puffs against your lips— as if he were terrified of letting you go.
Reaching up, your fingers trembled slightly as you hooked the edge of his sunglasses and pulled them away. Your breath caught as the ceiling lights hit his face.
“Have you been crying?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
The bright eyes that usually sparkled with such self-assurance were bloodshot and rimmed with a raw, puffy red. Looking at him, you realized you didn’t need a mirror to know your own expression was just as weary.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. I was such a douchebag,” he finally spoke, his eyes locked onto yours with a seriousness you hadn’t seen in him before.
The despair in his voice made your heart ache, and you opened your mouth to protest. But he shook his head, his hands sliding from your face to your shoulders to steady you.
“No, please let me finish. I need to make things right,” he insisted. “I shouldn’t have pressured you about work. I was just jealous, and I took it out on you— which is pathetic, because you’ve never given me a single reason not to trust you.”
You quietly took one of his hands, lacing your fingers with his as he continued. “And I’m sorry for brushing you off about the make-up noona when she made you feel uncomfortable. I should’ve protected you better.”
“It’s okay, Lele. I was just letting my insecurities get the best of me,” you muttered, the past few days of overthinking peeking through the surface.
“You had a right to be worried,” he interjected, squeezing your hand gently. “And you are everything I’ve ever wanted in a girlfriend. You’re more than what I deserve, actually.”
“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better,” you whispered, looking down at your joined hands.
He lifted your chin so you could meet his eyes once more. “I’m not. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, and you’re the most caring person I know. And somehow, you still put up with a stubborn idiot like me.”
A small smile played on your lips. “You’re not an idiot. Stubborn…I do agree with that one.”
“Okaay,” he drew out the last syllable, a small smile finally breaking through as he gathered you into his arms. “So... am I forgiven?”
You tucked your face into the crook of his neck, your words coming out soft and muffled. “Silly. Of course, I forgive you, Lele.”
Chenle offered a small, tentative smile before reaching into a pocket. “I have something for you,” he said, his voice softer now. “A peace offering. For being an idiot.”
Your eyes widened as he produced a rectangular velvet box. “Chenle, you didn’t…”
He led you to the sofa, his touch lingering on your arm. You sat beside him and slowly opened the box, your breath catching at the sight. It was a jade flower, meticulously carved and glowing softly against a thin, elegant gold chain. It was simple, quiet, and perfectly you.
After he helped you fasten the delicate gold clasp, the two of you spent the rest of the night tangled together on the sofa. The jagged stress of the past week finally dissipated, replaced by the familiar, quiet warmth of your usual dynamic.
“I still can’t believe you actually cried,” you mumbled, resting your head against the soft cotton of his shoulder.
Chenle’s arm remained firmly anchored around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, trying to regain a hint of his usual nonchalance. “It’s only because I missed you. I seriously thought you were never going to talk to me again.”
He said it lightly, but the way his grip tightened told you that he had been genuinely terrified. You snuggled closer, letting your eyes flutter shut as you were a little glad that the fear had been mutual. In the end, you still had each other, though. And no matter how different your personalities might be, the honest love you shared was real and persevering.
genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint, lots of pining
warnings: kissing towards the end
word count: ~1.3k
summary: a dull afternoon takes a sharp turn when Haechan hears you raving about Jeno. Faced with a textbook case of jealousy, his impulsivity finally kicks in—and for once, it might actually work in his favor.
author's note: ugh it's been too long since i've written something for haechan. but it's always super fun for me. also i think this story pairs well with his solo song
Haechan sighed in exaggeration for the umpteenth time, sinking deeper into the navy-blue sofa as if he hoped the cushions would swallow him whole. He let his phone drop onto his stomach, rolling his wrist to ease the soreness from playing too much PUBG. His eyes slowly drifted to your back as you typed away at some essay on the oak coffee table in front of him. With his sun-kissed skin glowing from the dim lamp you left on, he was positive you’d forgotten he was even in the room.
“You know, I did warn you I’d be working on my research proposal,” you clarified, eyes glued to your laptop.
“Well, I didn’t think it’d take you this long!” he retorted.
You gave a small laugh, shaking your head at his dramatics. “It’s only been thirty minutes, Hyuck.”
Seemingly wounded by your lack of remorse, Haechan huffed and pushed himself off the loveseat, looming over your shoulder. You stiffened instinctively at the feeling of him peering at the wall of text on your screen.
“Yah- what’s wrong with me reading your thing?” He whined.
“If I wanted you to see it, then I would’ve shown you,” you countered, promptly snapping your laptop shut. “Besides, I’m done anyway.”
Haechan rolled his eyes as you retreated to the far end of the couch; the specific corner he noticed was your designated spot. You slumped against the cushions with a sight that eclipsed his. Your head tilted up until your gaze anchored on the ceiling, allowing a quiet lull to briefly settle over the living room.
As someone who usually felt recharged from consistent banter, he’d grown comfortable with these rare pockets of silence between you two. At least he could actually enjoy your presence now, rather than just staring at the back of your shirt. He observed how the ivory fabric caught the light, the tiny embedded sequins shimmering faintly in the dark.
After a minute or so passed, Haechan could sense that your mind was elsewhere. He playfully nudged your knee to get your attention. “Penny for your thoughts?”
You glanced his way, answering without a second of hesitation. “Sometimes I think Jeno is the male version of me.”
The steady rhythm in his heartbeat was disrupted by an erratic stutter. “The male version of you,” he echoed, looking at you as if you’d just claimed to be long-lost royalty. “Where did that come from?”
You offered a simple shrug, pondering for another second. “Well, minus the abs and the whole working out at the crack of dawn thing.”
“But when you think about it,” you continued, “we’re both homebodies. He dreads traveling for any length of time, so do I. He also gets shy around new people, like me…”
Although you were too caught up reiterating a list of points to recognize the skepticism in his expression that refused to leave.
“He loves cats, too. Oh! And he also listens to One Direction songs on occasion!” you added enthusiastically.
Fighting the urge to dwell on your logic, Haechan scoffed in disbelief. “Wow, you guys sound like a match made in Heaven. Do you want to date him or something?”
Your train of thought hit a dead end the moment his words registered. You blinked at him, a little puzzled. “What makes you think that?”
A sharp, dry laugh escaped him. “(Y/n), did you hear yourself? You’re describing Jeno like he’s your soulmate. All because you both have a few things in common.”
“Hyuck, you’re being silly,” you chided, softening your tone.
Haechan rose to his feet, his frustration boiling over as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m being silly?” he huffed. “While you're over here having this grand epiphany about your connection with Lee Jeno, I’m the one who hauled myself over here after a full-day of music classes and a two-hour seminar on legal ethics.”
“Didn’t you go to that guest lecture because of a lost bet with Jisung, though?” you asked, half-intrigued. One look at the way Haechan’s pupils nearly bulged out of his head told you that it was a tactical error.
“The bet is irrelevant!” He exploded. “I’ve literally been throwing every hint possible to a freaking psychology major for months, and you still haven’t caught onto the fact that I have a massive crush on you!”
You watched him pace the limited space in your apartment, replaying the last ten minutes— no, the last few months in your head with a new lens. While he proceeded to rave about how clueless you were, your head spun from a dizzying rush of dopamine. Despite the shock, an involuntary smile crept onto your lips.
Standing up, you stepped directly into his path. “Hyuck, hold on a second.”
“What?! You must think I’m crazy for rambling like a fool, right?” He snapped.
With disheveled hair, crazed eyes, and a heaving chest from his outburst, he met your calm gaze. In any other context, you would’ve laughed over how painfully adorable he looked. The genuine despair in his expression was the only reason your amusement remained concealed.
“Jeno and I may share a lot of similarities… But he isn’t you,” you spoke quietly.
Haechan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”
You hesitated for a split second before reaching out, your fingers gently finding his hand. “I can pick up on things, you know. I’m not that dumb,” you murmured with a slight frown. “Like how you’re the one who saves me a seat during lunch, or how you never let me walk home alone at night. And I know buying two cartons of strawberry milk wasn’t an accident, Hyuck.”
Your hand was cold in his, a familiar chill that strangely anchored. The physical contact grounded him immediately, yet his heart still raced with the intensity of a high-speed car chase— only now, it was for a completely different reason.
“Wait…so you’re saying— ” Haechan’s voice trailed off, his mind struggling to comprehend the sudden shift in mood.
A little paranoid that this was some cruel hallucination, his eyes searched yours cautiously. But he found nothing except the fond, lingering smile you reserved just for him.
Exhaling shakily, you murmured, “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not looking at Jeno or anyone. How could I be, when you’re right here?’
With the confession finally out in the open, your attention was inadvertently drawn by his admittedly very distracting lips. A brief, frantic debate sparked in your mind about whether this was even the right time for that. But the system in your brain was abruptly shut down.
The short space left between you vanished, and you felt the sudden, dizzying heat of Haechan’s lips against yours, the kiss soft yet heavy with a year’s worth of unspoken desperation. In a heartbeat, your eyes fluttered closed as your hands looped instinctively around his neck. Haechan took that as his cue to pull you flush against him, kissing you with more passion. A low hum rumbled in his throat, a vibration you felt traveling through as you slowly yielded to him.
By the time you both finally parted for air, Haechan kept you close. The previous anguish in his expression was replaced with something dangerously smug.
“Guess I really am a genius, huh?” he whispered, his breath ghosting over yours.
Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at his instantly recovered ego, you shifted your arms to squeeze him in an affectionate embrace.
“Oh, you’re so cute, Hyuck.”
“Cute?”
The triumph in his voice started to falter. You giggled into his shirt, reluctantly disentangling yourself from his arms.
“We should probably drink some water,” you said, still feeling a little short of breath.
Haechan could only shake his head with a defeated grin, watching you walk into the kitchen. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and his skin still buzzed from the electricity of your touch. Why did you always leave him so lovestruck?
summary: A missed bus leads to an accidental conversation about what your lives might look like years from now in the city. But you’re not entirely sure that you occupy Jaemin’s mind the way he occupies yours.
Any warmth in your body vanished the second you stepped out of the library. The harsh December breeze, combined with being out way too late at night, just made everything worse. At least you didn't have to freeze alone.
“Aish, that was the last bus,” you huffed, hands clutching onto your knees. If only you had arrived two minutes earlier.
But you guessed this sort of dilemma was expected when you left the library after 10 p.m. Some might call you guys crazy, considering you had gone there for a study date early in the afternoon. With finals aggressively knocking on your doors, you needed to make sure all the class materials were memorized, and every assignment was turned in on time. It wasn't until Jaemin gave a gentle nudge that you snapped out of your concentrated state.
Speaking of the boy, he offered a kind smile. “Well, I guess we're walking home.”
“I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have lost track of time,” you frowned, letting out a frosty exhale. Of all days to miss the bus, why did the weather have to be so freezing?
He momentarily removed his hands from his pockets to zip up the collar of your black coat. His actions were like a gentle reminder that he was there with you, that you weren't alone in this late-night cold.
“Hey, at least you feel more prepared when Monday rolls around,” he said, his voice warm and soothing despite the chill around you.
The corner of your lips slowly curved into a small smile. “Yeah, I guess. But still… now we have to walk in this cold,” you sighed, reaching up to tug his white scarf snugger around his neck.
He leaned in easily, planting a soft peck on your lips. “It’s alright,” he murmured, “That just means more you-and-me time.”
You hated how his simple, slightly cheesy words made your heart skip a beat. As you continued your way, Jaemin slipped his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers. The two of you shared a comfortable silence, walking side by side across the bridge.
The streets were quiet, powdered with snow that muffled beneath your boots. The city lights cast a soft glow, creating a serene atmosphere that contrasted with the urgency of your impending finals. No matter how many times you’ve seen Seoul post sunset, the view never gets boring to look at.
“Isn’t it amazing that we get to live in this beautiful city?” You let out a quiet breath, stopping to admire all the tall buildings and sparkling billboards behind the white railing.
Jaemin shifted subtly to stand beside you, smiling in amusement as he waited for you to keep talking. He knew that taking in the aesthetic of the night was impossible when you were around. All he could do was smile as your eyes lit up just as bright as the scenery before you.
Your fingers curled around the railing, your head tilting back in awe. “Just think about it, Jaem. In five— ten years from now, we’ll be looking at this same sky in a cozy little home with our kids.”
Once the words settled, your eyes widened as your mind caught up to what you said, the last part slipping out without permission. “I didn’t mean to say that— well, I did mean it,” you rushed, stumbling over your words.
Jaemin chuckled softly, leaning in closer. “Uh huh. You just said you wanna have babies with me.”
“Well… yeah,” you muttered, heat flushing your cheeks. Your gaze dropped to your now frigid hands, struggling to maintain eye contact. “It’s just— whenever I picture the future, intertwining our lives is naturally part of it. You know?”
“Naturally,” Jaemin agreed, a stupid grin spreading across his face.
You scoffed, shoving at his chest, which barely counted as a push. “Come on, I can’t be the only one who thinks about this stuff.”
“Of course not,” he replied, already stepping closer to wrap his arms around you from behind.
You grumbled in response, but didn’t attempt to escape. However, your ears perked as you waited to see if his explanation would be worth it.
“Trust me,” he murmured. “There isn’t a single version of my future where you’re not in it.” He tightened his hold slightly. “The life you want to build with me—I want it even more. I’ll plan the wedding of your dreams, find the perfect home for our family… and I’ll take you and our children to Disney in Tokyo so they can ride that Rapunzel attraction you constantly show me videos of.”
Yep, you couldn’t stay annoyed any longer. Sometimes it was hard to believe that you were still stuck in college. Hearing him talk like that only made you want time to go by faster. You slowly turned in his embrace, lifting your gaze to meet those beautiful eyes that were automatically fixed on yours.
“And Na Jaemin wins yet again,” you hummed, cupping the side of his face. “For being more romantic than me.”
“Oh, princess, you have no idea,” he breathed. Not another second was wasted before his lips locked onto yours.
Despite the gazillion times Jaemin had kissed you by now, he always made each one feel like a vow. The way his body molded so naturally against yours spoke his need to be close, while his lips collided against yours in a way that was gentle yet full of quiet passion that carried the assurance that you were cherished and safe with him. And when he smiled in the midst of the kiss from how perfectly you matched him with every moment, it made his head spin in the best way.
Even though your heart sank a little, you forced yourself to pull away. “Okay, okay. We really have to get a move on, Jaem.”
“Why?? It’s Friday night, and you know I’m not letting you freeze,” he whined, pouting in the sulkiest way.
You laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him down the path. “Sooo~ you can finish walking me to my place, and I can convince you to stay the night.”
The invitation you’d just extended easily made his eyes sparkle. Although he still pretended to look offended. “I suppose an exception can be made, just this once.”
“That’s why I love you, dear,” you teased, happy now that you both were finally picking up the pace.
Jaemin shook his head, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “Yeah, I love you way more. But let’s walk a little faster before your tiny fingers turn into icicles.”
You nodded mutually, a comforting sense of camaraderie enveloping you. While the wind still nipped at your cheeks, the biting cold had no power over the two of you. Sigh, you couldn’t wait to return home.
author's note: omg it's been way too long since i last made a group post T.T. i really do apologize, it's just my inspiration for them have been running really low. but it's only because i feel like i've gotten to write most of the things i wanted to for them. anyway, i really hope you guys like this one. i definitely wasn't smiling like an idiot while writing it. thanks for reading as always ^ ^
~ ~ ~
mark
Mark is the kind of parent who would be completely obsessed with his kid. Like the moment your baby is born, he knew he was a goner. You’d watch him cradling your son or daughter in his arms with pure love overflowing from his eyes. He’d lean close to little face and whisper, “Hi there, baby. I’m your dad,” grinning as if he had just won an award.
If you had a boy, he would be super excited. The nursery would be filled with various shades of blue, and most nights would be spent with him lulling your little one to sleep by strumming his guitar. You would also hear Mark laughing as he fed him rice porridge airplane-style. He would also be very active with a boy, spending any spare time he got kicking around a ball or letting himself be tackled to the ground.
From another aspect, he would make sure that your son knew how to treat women properly and never let him disrespect you in any way. He’d praise your son for any sort of good behavior and lovingly scold him if he misbehaved. With Mark as his role model, your son would grow up surrounded by steady love and unwavering support.
On the other hand, if you had a daughter, Mark would be quite different. Oh, she would have him wrapped around her finger and spoil her endlessly. He would be raving every five seconds about how cute she is, holding her up in his arms with the brightest smile on his face. He’d constantly be speaking to her in the softest voice and practically die every time she showed him affection.
Once she got older, though, Mark might have a hard time disciplining her. So you’d probably have to end up handling that part most of the time. It’s because he would break at the slightest hint of a pout, softening his heart in an instant. He simply couldn’t bear making her cry, even if she clearly needed to learn her lesson— it would break him.
And if his little girl ever came to him sad about something, he’d hoist her up onto his lap and squeeze her into the warmest hug without a second thought. He’d whisper all the sweet words into her hair to make her feel better and give her tickles just to see her smile again. Then he’d take her to the store and buy whatever snacks she wants.
Regardless of the gender, Mark would undoubtedly be a great father. He would just fall into the role so naturally, and your love for him would deepen every day. Even with his crazy life, constantly juggling different projects at work, he’d always make time for his kids and ensure that they never questioned how important they were to him.
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renjun
Renjun wouldn’t act too differently with his kid, whether it was a boy or a girl. He’d still love them with his whole heart and be the best father he could be. He’s also the type of father who would praise his kids for small things and gush to you about how adorable they are. Oh gosh, cuteness aggression would be a recurring thing for him, too. Sometimes you’d catch him biting the air or balling his fists in pure excitement, while you held your baby up in your lap.
He would also be good when it came to disciplining your kids. If they misbehaved, he’d crouch down to their level, gently steady their shoulders, and maintain eye contact as he’d ask, “Was that okay or not?” In those moments, it was impossible for you not to be charmed by Renjun, even though you knew he was being serious.
If you guys had a daughter, you would have so much fun dressing her up in different outfits. He’d also spoil her with cute accessories, especially hairpins. One day, he’d come back home and show you these pink and yellow bows he bought just because they made him think of your little girl. He would also buy matching outfits if you had a boy. He’s the type of dad who would be walking down the street with your son hand-in-hand, and people passing by would stop to awe at how adorable they looked.
Honestly, you would have a lot of fun seeing the father side of Renjun come out. He’d come up with different crafts for your kids to do together. The table would be scattered with papers and crayons, where he’d be teaching them how to draw something. He’d also teach your kids Chinese and how to write different characters, so they end up being bilingual.
Renjun would want to do so many things with your children— whether it was teaching them something new or coming up with a fun activity to keep them entertained. With him around, your kids would grow up to be bright and creative. While he’d take pride in their growth, the fatherly love he’d have for his kids would be genuine and deeply sincere.
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jeno
Ugh, Jeno would seriously be the most gentle father. Like the second he finds out you’re having a baby, he just becomes ten times softer. During the first few months, when the baby cried endlessly, he’d insist on handling it and letting you stay in bed. Night after night, Jeno would hold your little one in his arms, soothingly patting their back and murmuring soft pleas to lull them back to sleep. His hair would be messy, and there might be a little spit-up on his shirt, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest.
It didn’t matter if you had a boy or a girl because your admiration for him would deepen regardless. But if you guys had a daughter, Jeno would be so whipped for her that he wouldn’t even realize it. He’d give in so easily if she wanted something and proceed to badger you with puppy eyes until you agreed. His eyes would be all smiley just from looking at her, marveling at how tiny she was. He’s also the kind of father who’d come home with candy tucked in his pockets, secretly slip a piece to your daughter before dinner, and raise a finger to her lips, whispering, “Don’t tell mommy.” Of course, there would be times you’d catch him doing this, and he’d just glance up at you with a helpless grin.
Then, if the latter were to happen, there is a high chance that your son will turn out to be a lot like Jeno. And it would be so cute catching all the similar mannerisms and expressions. His face would light up when your son would do or say something that he usually would, making him very proud.
He is also the kind of father who would like to take naps with his kid— especially when they’re younger. So it would be a normal occurrence to find them curled up on the couch with the little one resting contentedly on top of him. You would definitely snap a bunch of photos because how could you not?
Jeno is the physical embodiment of cuteness in general, even though he never tries to be. Witnessing the small moments would be so heartwarming— how he’d effortlessly scoop your kids in his arms if you had more than one, or the way he looks at them like they’re his whole world. And really, how could he not, when they’re a part of both him and you?
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haechan
Hoo boy— where do you even start with Lee Donghyuck as a dad? Among all the Dreamies, he is one who has clearly stated he wants kids someday, and it’s not that hard to envision him in the role. He would definitely want more than one child, because he loves the idea of having a warm, close-knit family that the two of you built together.
He would be such a loving parent, but also a menace at the same time. This guy is a big tease, and his kids will not be exceptions to that. Even when they’re little, you’d constantly find yourself pushing Haechan away and chastising him for antagonizing your baby. But he would also treasure those infant-stage moments, happily playing with their tiny feet and blowing raspberries just to hear that sweet little laugh.
And oh gosh, you can bet that if you end up with a girl, he’s gonna be all over her. Much like Renjun, only far more dramatic, he’d practically die every time she did something even remotely cute. He would glance at you with an utterly defeated look. “Babe, she’s too adorable— I might die.” And you would just shake your head with a smile because Haechan himself can also be very endearing.
However, the difference that would separate Haechan and Renjun as dads is that your daughter would be spoiled to no end by him. It was already game over the second she was born, and he got to hold her for the first time. From carefully choosing the best gifts, feeding her pieces of fruit, or helping her pick the perfect dress for an event, Haechan would pour his heart and soul into it.
Then, of course, he’s never going to scold his little angel. How could he? It can even get kinda frustrating at times— like when her room is still a mess— but Haechan, with all his nerve, would just pull your daughter close and make up excuses for her. “She’s just not done playing yet!” He’s the type of dad to secretly drink all her milk when she was supposed to, just when you weren’t looking. What a devil he can be— and make no mistake, he will.
Now Haechan is going to act differently with a boy for sure. He might even get jealous of his son from time to time. And since your child would be Haechan’s son, there’s a very high chance that he’d be just like him. So Haechan would definitely whine when your son hogs all your affection, giving you a look of betrayal. He’d dramatically flop beside you and cry, “Ugh, I’ve been replaced. My wife doesn’t love me anymore!” You’d have to resist rolling your eyes and generously shower him with kisses just to stop the pouting. Honestly, the line between who was actually the baby wouldn’t feel that different.
On a different note, Haechan would raise your son to be a mini-version of himself — with all the sass and cleverness. Of course, there would be times when it got thrown back at him, and watching the shock in his face would have you and his members rolling on the floor in laughter. But Haechan would also have your son running little errands for him— like fetching extra vegetables from the friendly ahjussi on a trip, or handing him a tool when he’s trying to fix something.
Nevertheless, Haechan would give his everything to your kids, just like all the other members. Even if he can be a little over the top at times, anyone could see how much he loves his kids. He would do anything to keep them safe and never let a frown linger for long. Because that’s just the kind of person he is, a big lovable sweetheart.
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jaemin
Na Jaemin is undeniably a walking green flag, and that easily applies to fatherhood as well. He’s a man constantly overflowing with love, never hesitating to pour it into the people he cares about, and it showed in your relationship. You never once had to question his devotion when he was always there to remind you in every lingering hug, every passion-filled kiss, every sweet word, and every thoughtful gesture. The idea of having children with him feels exciting and comforting, because you know in your heart he would be an incredible parent.
He’s the kind of father who would be present in your child’s life long before they were even born. The minute he found out you were pregnant, he’d make sure to take time every day to talk to your baby. In a soft, loving voice, he’d share little stories about his day and whisper how he can’t wait to meet them. And when the moment finally came and he held them for the first time, he would be glowing with pride and joy.
It’s very easy to picture Jaemin as a girl dad. He’d never want to put her back down, wanting to savor every moment while she’s still tiny and delicate because he knows that one day she’ll grow up and won’t need him in the same way. From the start, he would be fiercely protective of her. He’d jokingly— but very seriously— remind you, “She’s not dating until she’s thirty.” You would also get used to hearing your daughter’s giggles every time Jaemin peppered kisses all over her chubby cheeks— something he did at any chance he got.
On the weekends, he’d spend as much time with her as he could, making sure you got a break from the heavier tasks. He would happily indulge in all the games she invited him to play— whether it was a princess tea party or a pretend hair salon. You’d laugh when you saw his hair covered in sparkly bows and clips, while your daughter beamed proudly as she searched for yet another one to pin in place. Jaemin really sets the gold standard, and your daughter would probably struggle with future suitors because her father is impossible to top.
But Jaemin would have just as much fun if you had a son. He’d be the dad making dramatic sound effects while they played toy cars, or pretending to be a fearsome monster that needed to be defeated. He’d also be the type to whisk your son away for some ice cream after dinner, always finding little ways to squeeze in extra moments together.
Like Mark, your son would learn how to be a proper gentleman by watching how Jaemin treats you. And if he’s Jaemin’s kid, he’d grow up with a big, loving heart, he’d naturally want to share with others. And Jaemin would make sure to commend him for what a kind child he is.
To be honest, there are so many other reasons why being a dad fits Jaemin so well. But he is also someone you wouldn’t ever have to worry about when it comes to how your child will grow up. He’d also make sure you never felt alone in parenting, always stepping in to prove how strong a team you were together.
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chenle
Being a parent might not be the first thing that comes to mind when you think about Chenle, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t excel at it. In fact, he’d be an amazing father— because once Chenle commits to something, he always gives his 100%. He’d be determined to become the best father imaginable, and he’d proudly show it every step of the way.
He is someone you could probably see having a son more, maybe because of his dynamic with Mark. But nonetheless, he would make the most out of being a dad. He would want your son to be involved in all the things he likes, such as his basketball obsession. He’d have him sitting in his lap during a game, wearing matching jerseys. Every few minutes, you could hear Chenle cheering from the living room, and would catch him raising your son’s tiny hands in enthusiasm.
You would also shake your head whenever Chenle brags about how much your little boy is so much like him. He just can’t help it because the idea of having a carbon copy of himself feeds his ego. He is also the type of father who will run a hand over his son’s head and spontaneously pull him in for affectionate hugs. Those moments would be really cute to witness.
Chenle would also be great with a daughter, too. On outings, especially family trips, he’s the kind of dad who carries her on his shoulders all day, and happily changes directions whenever she points at something that catches her eye. And obviously, she’d be given whatever she wants because that’s just the type of person Chenle is.
If he sees her eyes light up at a stuffed animal behind a window display, they’re stopping to buy it before anyone else even gets the chance. If she wants some overpriced popcorn for the movie they’re about to watch, he’s getting her the largest bucket they sell. And if her feet have grown and she needs a new pair of shoes, Chenle will purchase her a pair in every color to match her outfits.
Your home would be filled with all sorts of things he’d bought for her to the point where you’d regularly bicker with Chenle about his habit of unnecessarily overcompensating. And every time he would just give you that incorrigible little shrug. “What’s wrong with my buying her stuff? It’s not like she’s gonna stay this small forever, you know.” *sigh*
This might sound bad, but Chenle as a parent is so predictable. He’s the type to exude a smug sort of pride about how incredible his kids are, and there’s no doubt they will be. But fatherhood would also bring out a new level of maturity in him, and he’d embrace every high and low of the journey with you by his side.
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jisung
Some might think Jisung would be kinda clueless when it comes to parenting, given his maknae image and all. But he’d seriously be such a good father. He’s someone who cares deeply for his family, and his heart would grow 100 times bigger for his child. Jisung has also talked about being a dad in the past, so having a baby would genuinely bring this man so much happiness.
He would go to any length and measure to ensure you two were fully prepared to bring new life into the world. And even if he receives endless teasing (he will) from his members for taking everything so seriously, Jisung doesn’t care. He just wants the absolute best for your children. Then, when that baby comes, he’ll be the one crying his eyes out. Despite being in tears yourself, you’d find yourself patting his back in an attempt to calm him down.
Your baby would be held tightly in his arms as he gazed at them as if they were the most precious thing on Earth. And the way he leans in, speaking softly and smiling when those tiny hands reach out for him, would melt his heart entirely. Then he’d glance over to you to make sure you saw it, and you’d give him a smile of acknowledgment.
Jisung would also be really good at soothing your child during the hardest nights. Being tired the next morning doesn’t bother him because he wants to cherish every time he gets to cradle your child in his arms, and let them know that he’s never going to let anything happen to them. There would also be moments when you’d be lying in bed together with the little one, dozing off between you two. He could easily watch them sleep for hours.
He also wouldn’t act that differently depending on the baby’s gender, though he might be a bit more nervous if you had a daughter first. Having grown up around guys all the time— and still being part of a large group of them, Jisung wouldn’t be entirely sure what to do at first. But with your gentle guidance, he’d figure it out.
Jisung would love it when his daughter sat on his lap, pressing her tiny hand against his. With his own being larger than the average, the contrast would be almost comical. The first time he noticed it, he’d blink in genuine surprise and exclaim, “Wah! How could her hands be so tiny?” Ever since, he’d enjoy comparing their hands, just like he used to do when you first started dating.
But if you guys had a son first, Jisung would be much more confident, thinking, “I know how to handle this one.” And honestly, he would. Jisung is the type of dad to chase him around the couch with toy guns in their hands. He would also enjoy losing every game to his son, just to hear him laugh in victory. But if your little boy seemed a little too boastful, a tickle attack was sure to ensue.
Naturally, Jisung can be a bit emotional at times. So it wouldn’t be unusual to see tears in his eyes every time your child hit a milestone. More than anything, you’d find him to be incredibly wholesome. He would feel sad at the thought of your kids growing up, and you’d just have to remind him that was just a part of parenting. This would only motivate him further to appreciate every moment and treasure them as much as he can.
Watching him step into fatherhood would be truly beautiful.
summary: you're going on a trip with the dreamies and end up having to sit on Jeno's lap, the one you just so happen to have a massive crush on.
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If Chenle wasn’t your best friend, you swore you would’ve strangled him by now. It’s the start of summer break and he invited you and some others to spend a week at his parent’s villa in Tongyeong. And as much as you love the guys, you’re not exactly keen on being the only girl on a weeklong trip. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that Jeno was coming, you wouldn’t be standing outside of Mark’s apartment right now with a suitcase in hand.
“You guys seriously didn’t check how many seats were in the van?” Renjun asked, eyeing the cramped interior of the silver rental like another row might magically appear if he stared hard enough.
Mark groaned from the driver’s seat. “I swear the website said eight when I booked it!”
“It’s fine, we’ll make it work somehow,” Jaemin assured, hefting his luggage into the trunk before reaching out for yours.
“Oh— thanks,” you said, handing him your suitcase.
You circle around to the other side of the car and peek inside before popping your head back out.
“I can just sit on the floor,” you volunteered without a second thought. There’s just enough space between the two seats in the second row. It wasn’t ideal per se, but you’re the only one who could probably fit.
“No way,” Jisung frowned. “That’s not safe.”
“Yeah we don’t want you flying around if Mark drives like a maniac,” Haechan snickered.
Mark looked at the light-haired male with an offended expression. “Hey! I’m a great driver.”
Before you could say something, Jeno walked up beside you. “You can just sit on my lap, if you want,” he offers, tone quiet but clear. “It’ll be easier that way.”
Your heart nearly tripped over itself, the rational part of your brain questioning whether you heard him correctly.
Chenle snorted behind you. “Oh, I’m sure she’d love to,” he teased, loud enough for only you to hear. You swatted his arm without even looking back.
“Are you sure?” you asked cautiously, eyes flickering to Jeno with uncertainty.
He nodded. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”
You tried to ignore the way Jaemin wiggled his eyebrows from the passenger seat as Jeno climbed into the back of the car. Following suit, you eased onto his lap, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The two of you sat at the end while Jisung and Renjun filled the remaining two seats. Thankfully, neither of them teased you nearly as much as the others did. Also you were pretty sure that Jisung wasn’t even aware of your crush on Jeno.
“Sorry if I’m heavy,” you muttered, keeping your eyes anywhere but him. The physical closeness alone was enough to make your pulse quicken.
Jeno shook his head, his hand settling lightly at your waist as the van turned into the main road. “Don’t worry about it. You’re super light.”
The warmth of his palm seeped through your thin shirt, and you tried not to melt right there. As the car moved, you tried not to pay too much attention to the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. You didn’t know if you could stand two and half hours like this.
Meanwhile, the rest of the guys were loud as ever— with Haechan arguing with Mark about the playlist. Jaemin and Chenle talked about what they needed to buy at the grocery store. Jisung was playing some mobile game on his phone and Renjun tuned everything out with his AirPods.
Through it all, Jeno stayed calm and quiet as he usually did. It was one of the things you liked the most about him. You’d lost count of how many times he’d share a mutual look of social exhaustion during group hangouts. Sure, he had his moments of joining the chaos. But even then, it only made him seem more endearing in your eyes.
The thing about long car rides was that you always ended up falling asleep. You weren’t quite sure when you dozed off, but you woke when the van pulled into a rest stop. Your eyes fluttered open in surprise when you realized everyone had gone out. All except for Jeno who was casually scrolling through Instagram.
You sat up quickly, cheeks warming. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry! Why didn’t you wake me up?”
He shrugged, glancing at you with a small grin. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to disturb your nap.”
“Still…your legs are probably tired,” you mumbled, shifting off his lap and into the empty seat beside him.
“It’s fine, really,” Jeno said, setting his phone down. “So, how did finals go for you?”
Leaning back against the carseat, you sighed. “Not too bad. I had to give one presentation, and you know how much I hate public speaking.”
“I bet you did great,” he said, earning a shy smile from you.
“Eh, I’m not too sure about that. What about you?”
“They went well for the most part,” Jeno replied. “Honestly, I’m just glad the semester’s finally over.”
You laughed under your breath. “Tell me about it. I don’t want to think about school for the next month at least.”
“Me too,” he agreed. Then with a sudden gentleness, he reached forward. “Hold still a sec.”
Your breath hitched as his thumb briefly brushed over your cheek. He pulled away, revealing an eyelash that must’ve fallen. “There,” he said.
“Oh— thanks,” you whispered, your face burning.
You looked up and froze, realizing how little space separated you. But neither of you made a move to pull back. Jeno’s eyes flickered to your lips for a half a second, before he exhaled slowly.
“Can I tell you something?” he murmured. You managed a small nod, not trusting your voice to speak properly.
Jeno’s eyes met yours, full of quiet longing. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he confessed.
Your mind spun into overdrive, scrambling to process the situation you hadn’t imagined being in. When you didn’t respond right away, Jeno’s expression faltered, and he began to backpedal.
“Sorry—I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he quickly apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can just ignore what I said.”
But before he could retreat completely, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in, pressing your lips to his. Having never kissed anyone before, the first brush was tentative almost as if you were afraid of how he might not like it. But then Jeno exhaled softly against your mouth, his hand sliding to cup your cheek. Your head tipped back as his lips moved gently against yours. His other hand found its way to your waist, drawing you in just a little closer. Your fingers curled around his collar, steadying yourself as your heart raced wildly.
Although you wish this moment could last forever, it inevitably came to an end. The last thing either of you wanted was for one of the guys to catch you two kissing. Your mind was spinning and your heart was beating at an exhilarating rate.
“That was nice,” he said, smiling like a fool.
You laughed softly. “Y-yeah, it was.”
Before either of you could say anything else, the sound of footsteps and laughter made you two quickly pull apart. You pretended to ignore the look Chenle gave you as he slid into the second row, though your cheeks were already burning.
As the van started moving again, Jeno’s hand settled once more on your waist. He didn’t say anything, but the two of you occasionally glanced at each other and exchanged a quiet, secretive smile. You had a feeling that the rest of this trip was going to be amazing.
warnings: mentions of self-harm and sex, but nothing explicit
word count: ~1.4k
author's note: i know this is a recurring topic in my stories and i'm sorry if it sounds repetitive. this idea just came to me the other day and i felt like writing it down. so hope you guys like it. thank you for reading ^ ^
By the time Jaemin returned from work, the clock on your nightstand read 11:03 p.m. A small sigh escaped him when he saw you were already curled up beneath the covers. Moving softly around the room, he went through the motions of his nightly routine before joining you in bed. He lay there for a while, eyes fixated on your back turned to him, as it had been so many nights lately. Then, with a tenderness that almost hurt, he leaned over to press a kiss to your temple and whispered, “Good night,” before switching off his lamp.
You hated the feeling of guilt that gnawed at you from the inside. You hated pretending to be already asleep when he came home, hated how you kept pushing him away. And yet, no matter how much you knew you were hurting him, you just weren’t ready.
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The mid-afternoon light shone through the café windows, tinting everything in a golden hue. You sat across from your friend Hye-mi, her hands wrapped around her brown sugar milk tea, even though the ice had already melted.
“So,” Hye-mi began with a teasing grin. “How was your first night together?”
Your straw froze midway to your lips. “Oh. Um…” You looked down, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.
Hye-mi leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Come on, you can tell me. I don’t know how you and Jaemin waited all this time. Was it amazing?”
“We haven’t done it, actually,” you said, biting your lip. “We were both exhausted after the wedding, you know.”
The smile on your friend’s face faltered. “Oh. Well, that happens. But sure you have since then… right?”
You shook your head sheepishly, stirring the tapioca pearls that had long sunk to the bottom of your cup. “Not yet. We’ve just been so busy with moving in together and all the unpacking. Then you know how crazy Jaemin’s schedules can be.”
“Hasn’t it been a month, though?” Hye-mi asked, disbelief coloring her voice. You internally grimaced at the surprise in her tone, fully aware of how strange it must sound.
“Yeah… we just haven’t found the right time,” you said with a nervous laugh. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”
But Hye-mi wasn’t convinced, sensing there was more beneath the surface. Reaching across the table, she placed her hand on top of yours. “(Y/n), you know Jaemin adores you, right?” she said softly, “I mean, no one can get the man to shut up about you.”
You managed a faint smile and nodded. “I know he does. Everything’s fine, I promise.”
Everything wasn’t fine, no matter how many excuses you kept coming up with. The worst part was that Jaemin had been nothing but patient. Memories flashed through your mind of all the times you had gently pulled away when his kisses grew more passionate and his hands started to wander. It was something both of you had waited for so long, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to cross that final line.
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After finishing his final rep, Jaemin stepped away from the machine and reached for the towel resting on the bench. Jeno was already there, handing him a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” Jaemin said, twisting the cap open before taking a long drink. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh, dabbing the sweat off his neck with his towel.
“How is married life treating you these days?” Jeno teased, a knowing grin tugging at his lips.
Jaemin hesitated before answering.“It’s been good.”
Jeno raised a brow. “Just good?”
“Yeah, yeah—nothing bad.” He said, wiping the towel across his bicep. “It’s just… we still haven’t, you know.”
His friend blinked in surprise, lowering his water bottle. “Wait, seriously?”
“At first, I thought she was just nervous since it’s our first time. I didn’t want to pressure her,” he explained. “But it’s been a month now, and she just feels… distant. I don’t know if I’m doing something wrong, or if maybe she’s not attracted to me anymore.”
“Hey, (Y/n) loves you, man. You guys are like a match made in Heaven,” Jeno said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Jaemin exhaled softly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. It’s just been on my mind lately.”
That night, the sound of rain tapped against the apartment window. You were sitting on your side of the bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Jaemin had just gotten out of the shower and tossed his gym clothes in the hamper next to the dresser. As he changed into sleepwear, his eyes kept drifting to you, restless with unspoken questions. He knew that he couldn’t stay silent for much longer.
“Baby. Can we talk for a second?” he asked quietly.
You glanced up from your phone, ignoring the nervous flutter in your chest. “What’s up?”
Jaemin hesitated before moving to sit at the edge of the bed near your feet. He reached for your hand. “You know I love you, right?”
“Of course I do,” you nodded, voice small.
“I know we agreed to wait until marriage, and I never want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable with me,” he spoke carefully.
Your fingers clenched the sheets beneath you, anxiety flooding in even though you knew this conversation was bound to happen.
“But it’s been a while now, and….” Jaemin paused, searching for the right words. “Do you…not want to have sex with me?”
Feeling a lump in your throat, your eyes dropped to his hand holding yours. “I’m sorry,” you breathed. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I really do. It’s just…”
Jaemin brushed your cheek with his thumb, coaxing you to look at him. “Hey. I’m your husband, remember? You can tell me anything.”
His eyes were so sincere and patient, just as they always were. Yet it felt like you were standing on the edge of the cliff, every gust of wind threatening to push you over. Deciding there was no better way than to just show him, you pulled away from his touch and rose from the bed.
His brows furrowed in confusion as he watched you linger for a moment, then slowly lower your pajama pants and let them fall to the floor. Jaemin’s eyes widened when the soft lamplight illuminated the faded marks scattered across your thighs. Some were small while others were longer and darker.
Your hands trembled as you spoke, “This… is the part of me that I didn’t want you to see.”
The room was thick with silence as you stood there, unable to meet his eyes, your teeth pressing into your lip to stop the tears from breaking free. Then Jaemin stood up slowly and crouched down to see them for himself. His fingers traced one of the bigger scars, so lightly it felt like a whisper.
“Do you still…?” he asked, eyes searching yours.
You shook your head. “No. I stopped a long time ago. I promise.”
His fingers ghosted over your thigh as he absorbed everything. It all clicked now— how you never wore shorts in the summer, the flinches he never understood. He hadn’t realized you’d been carrying this for so long.
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you,” you said, voice wavering. “I was just afraid… that you’d find them ugly. That you’d leave.”
Jaemin lifted his gaze to meet yours. “Princess, there’s nothing about you that could ever make me leave,” he murmured.
Your breath hitched, tears spilling despite your effort to hold them back. Jaemin pulled you into his arms, and the familiar scent of his clean cotton enveloped you. Exhaling shakily, you sank into his embrace and let the warmth of him calm your racing heart.
After a few moments, he drew back just enough to cup your face. “I love all of you,” he said softly, but with conviction. “Every part, even the ones you don’t.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “I don’t deserve you, Jaem.”
“You do, more than you’ll ever know,” he said, his thumb brushing away the tears beneath your eye.
The world seemed to fade away, everything narrowing down to the warmth of his hands and the sincerity in his voice. Then something inside of you just broke free. You reached up and closed the space between you, kissing him. It was gentle but full of everything you couldn’t say— the relief, the love, the ache of finally being seen. Jaemin’s hands found their way to your waist, kissing back with the same quiet intensity.
This time, you didn’t pull back. That night, you gave yourselves to each other fully. And it was perfect.
author's note: this is something i wrote a while back. the dreamies talk about how much of a homebody jeno is, so that's where i got my inspiration. i'm not super proud of it, but i still hope you guys like it. thanks for reading ^ ^
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○
Bzzt! Bzzt!
“Is it the group chat again?” you asked, voice muffled against his hoodie.
His eyes remained shut as he gently nuzzled his nose into your hair. “We can ignore them.”
Unfortunately, the same buzzing sound vibrated from the coffee table to your left. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he blindly reached for his phone. He cracked one eye open to check the screen, his other arm still wrapped securely around your waist. You watched the annoyance in your boyfriend’s expression shift to contemplation.
His eyes flickered toward you. “Chenle’s trying to get everyone together to check out a restaurant in Mapo-gu. Do you wanna go?”
You shifted slightly, pressing your ear closer to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The last time you’d seen the guys was at their concert the previous month— and even then, it only for a brief moment backstage. Besides, if Jeno didn’t answer soon, you knew Haechan would start blowing up your phone too.
“I mean… if everyone else is going, we probably should,” you replied thoughtfully.
Jeno sank back against the pillow he dragged out from his bedroom. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “Especially since we skipped the last get-together.”
“And whose fault was that, Jeno-ssi?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
Jeno smirked. “In my defense, I was really sore after leg day with Jaemin. You’re the one who told me to rest and offered to give me a massage.”
“Touché,” you hummed, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “Do you want to go out tonight?”
Your boyfriend pondered for a bit, even though you both already knew the answer.
“Not really,” he admitted sheepishly, drawing a smile from you.
Almost without thinking, your hand sneaked beneath his hoodie and began to trace soft, aimless patterns along the firm lines of his abs. You caught the subtle hitch in Jeno’s breath, but chose to ignore it.
“Yeah. I just want to stay here with you,” you murmured.
His heart softened at your simple words— a quiet reminder of exactly why you were the one for him.
He glanced briefly at his phone before looking back at you. “What excuse should we use this time?”
“Maybe just say we already have plans?” you suggested, then paused. “Wait— no, they’ll see right through that. Tell them I’m not feeling well.”
With that, he typed out a quick reply and let his phone fall onto the carpet. Jeno could already picture the stream of nagging messages his members were firing off. But that was something for future him to deal with.
“Now, where were we?” he exhaled, using his free hand to stroke your hair.
“Well… we were taking a nap,” you said slowly, “But I’m kind of in the mood for something else.”
Before he could ask what, your hand slipped out from under his hoodie to bring his face closer to yours. Feeling a little bold today, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, Jeno’s cheeks had turned a shade of pink. But he was also smiling like an idiot.
“I like the way you think, babe,” he growled.
Without wasting another second, he smoothly flipped you over so that he was on top. Then his lips found yours again, moving passionately. Your fingers threaded through his hair, urging him to kiss you harder. As the room grew warmer, it was clear there was nowhere else you wanted to be right now.
Okay, so I haven't actually written anything yet. But I sort of have this whole superhero lore that would technically be a Jaemin x reader, but some of the other nct dream members would be in it as well. Would you guys read it?
don’t be sorry, i (and i’m sure many others) love your jaemin fics 💕 i hope your new season in college treats you well, and that only good and peaceful things come your way ✨ sending you lots of love 🥰
warnings: mention of the reader feeling anxious and insecure
word count: ~1.3k
author's note: At this point, I swear this is becoming a Jaemin blog. I'm sorry (😭), I promise I have stuff to write for the other members. I just lack the motivation to actually complete them atm. I wrote this because college just started again for me, and I was really anxious due to the fear of stuff from last year repeating itself. Enough about me, I'm sure some of you might relate to those jittery feelings. So I hope this can provide some amount of comfort to you. Thanks for reading ^ ^
The soft clink of empty soju bottles, followed by a heavy sigh, echoed through your small apartment. The faint aroma of grilled meat lingered faintly in the air, though most of it had drifted out the window you cranked open by now. Just five minutes ago, your living room had been full of laughter and chaos— the kind that naturally came with people like Lee Donghyuck and Zhong Chenle. Now, with all the noise faded, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
Na Jaemin, the only person who stayed behind, seemed to notice. He carried a stack of char-stained plates from the dining table, prompting you to set the garbage bag down just long enough to take them from his hands.
“You really don’t have to do that,” you muttered, placing the plates in the sink with a dull thunk.
Jaemin shot you a playful side-eye before grabbing the oversized plastic bag and gathering the rest of the bottles. “What kind of person would I be if I left my friend to clean up this mess alone?”
“I would’ve been fine by myself,” you insisted, voice trailing weakly— then added under your breath, “Nothing I’m not used to.”
He studied you for a moment, watching as you quickly loaded the dishwasher. Your shoulders were tight, your eyes distant, and that little frown you wore all night, even while the others were busy arguing about whether cereal should be considered a soup. Though he didn’t know you nearly as long as the guys, Jaemin could tell something was off. He’d seen it before, the way you sometimes went quiet during gatherings and snuck out when you thought no one would notice.
Deciding he wouldn’t stand idly by this time, Jaemin gently put the garbage by the door. You arched a brow as he crossed the room to open your fridge and pull out a chilled bottle of peach soju.
“Up for round two?” he asked, holding the bottle out to you.
You searched his eyes for a hint of why he wanted to drink again. Beyond the familiar playful glint, there was a steady calmness that seemed to overshadow it. Still…
“I really shouldn’t,” you told him, though Na Jaemin didn’t look like he was going to take no for an answer.
“Come on, you barely drank tonight. Just share this one with me?” The fluffy-haired boy tilted his head, his charming pout stirring something inside you despite yourself.
After a beat of hesitation, you gave in with a wave of your hand. “Fine— but don’t make fun of me for being a lightweight.”
“Me? Never!” He protested, feigning innocence, which made you laugh as you brought out a pair of clean shot glasses from the cabinet.
The two of you moved to sit on your cheap orange polyester sofa. With effortless ease, he twisted the Soon Hari bottle open and poured it for you both. You couldn’t help but smile when he raised his glass to cheers before downing it in one shot. Nervously, you glanced away and copied his actions.
For a while, the two of you sipped in silence. Halfway through the bottle, Jaemin made his first attempt at trying to crack you open— at least a little.
“You can talk to me, you know. If something is bothering you,” he spoke quietly.
Your gaze remained fixed on the rim of your cup, fingers tracing it absentmindedly. All this time, you had been alone in your thoughts— not thinking anyone would pick up on it. He waited patiently, gradually chipping away at the wall you usually worked so hard to keep up.
“I guess I’m worried about the semester starting,” you admitted, a little annoyed with yourself.
It wasn’t like this was your first year in university. You were going to be a junior. Shouldn’t you have everything figured out by now?
“Classes?”
You quickly shook your head. “No, it’s not that. I can handle all the academic stuff.”
“It’s more of the social aspect,” your voice trailed off, pressing your lips together before you continued. “I’m in my third year, and all of my girl friends either are or have been in relationships already.”
Honestly, you never imagined in a million years that you’d be sharing a drink with Na Jaemin, lamenting about your boy problems. Yet, instead of laughing or throwing you a judgmental look, he didn’t say anything. He only poured you another half-shot that you downed quickly, which you instantly regretted. Your face twisted slightly as the burn hit the back of your throat.
Another sigh slipped out as you sank back into the cushions. “Every time I like a guy, it backfires on me. They never feel the same, and I end up looking like a fool.”
This time, you grabbed the bottle and poured yourself more soju. It hadn’t even been that long, but the alcohol was already starting to get to you.
“At this point, I must be rejection-prone,” you laughed. But Jaemin didn’t seem to find it funny.
“You’re not rejection-prone,” He subtly slid your glass out of reach.
You flashed him a wry smile that faded shortly. “Trust me, I am. Sometimes I think I’m invisible. Or I try to figure out what’s wrong with me— am I just not pretty enough, or is my personality too boring? I’m definitely not smart enough-”
Unable to take this negative self-talk, Jaemin leaned forward and kissed you. The brief pop of your lips meeting echoed softly in the room. When he pulled back, your eyes were wide as saucers, and your jaw dropped. Jaemin held back a smirk, that certainly got you to stop talking.
“You’re not invisible to me, (Y/n),” he whispered, his gaze steady and locked on yours. “I see you.”
Your heart stuttered, and a part of you almost laughed at the absurdity of the sudden shift. There was no way he just kissed you and said those words like something straight out of a K-drama.
“Y-you… I-I don’t understand. How can someone like you like me?” you asked earnestly.
His brows lifted in curiosity. “Someone like me?”
“I mean, it’s so obvious,” you said, gesturing toward him. “You’re smart, athletic, funny, kind, and sexy! You have a steady future ahead of you, and girls practically fawn at every turn. Seriously, you could have anyone.”
A faint smile crept onto his lips, finding your rambling to be cute. “And yet, you’re the only one I want.”
He then reached for your hand, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. The sincerity in his eyes was evident. Your throat tightened.
“(Y/n), I don’t like you because you’re pretty or smart— though you are. I like you because you have such a big heart. Even if you act like you don’t, I see how you’re always there for your friends. You give so much of yourself, even when it hurts. You blame yourself for things you shouldn’t. And I wish,” he paused, voice softening even more now. “I wish you viewed yourself the way I saw you. Because… you’re incredible.”
Tears sprang to your eyes, and your chest ached with a tenderness that felt almost unbearable. “No one… no one’s ever said anything like that to me,” you murmured, letting out a quiet sniff.
Jaemin leaned in closer, giving you every chance to pull back. Before you could look away or second-guess yourself, you closed your eyes and let his lips brush against yours again.
The second kiss was different– the first one had been too short. This one was equally as soft, yet carried a quiet hunger that sent warmth curling low in your stomach. Soon, Jaemin’s hand slid up to your jaw as yours gripped the front of his shirt.
Your lips didn’t stop moving, each press more passionate than the last, deepening ever so slowly. A light whine betrayed you when he pulled away. Mischief sparkled in his eyes.
“Do you really think I’m sexy?” he asked, voice teasing.
Heat rose to your cheeks as you rolled your eyes. “Shut up and kiss me, please.”
He chuckled with delight. “Gladly.”
As he drew close once more, you caught his lips without hesitation this time. It was safe to say that Jaemin didn’t leave your apartment that night.
warnings: mentions of sickness, declining health, and traumatic events that can be triggering.
word count: ~5.2k
author's note: Hi! I know it's been so long since I've posted something here. But it always takes me forever to complete a long-term work. This was actually inspired by another story. It's based on the same idea, but I put my own twist on it (hope that's okay). Anyway, I hope you guys like it. Thank you for reading ^ ^
Before you met Na Jaemin, your world was covered in gray clouds and sudden showers. If you were lucky, a few rays of sunlight would manage to break through on some days. Yet the weather changed when you met him.
It was your third year of college, a gentle spring day when cherry blossoms were in full bloom. Their pink petals drifted softly across the campus breeze, as you had just walked out of your cognitive psychology class. Usually, you would head straight back to your apartment and complete your homework in solace. But perhaps the day was just too beautiful to ignore— that coaxed you into taking a slight detour on the way.
There was a little coffee shop just a few blocks from your place. Although the establishment seemed quite popular, you had yet to check it out. Thus, you pushed open the door after a light exhale and were instantly enveloped by the warm, inviting scent of coffee and cinnamon.
Behind the counter stood a boy with broad shoulders and tousled black hair. His back was turned to you as he was laughing at something his co-worker had said. Not wanting to interrupt, you lingered quietly, nervously scanning the menu from a distance— already feeling overwhelmed by the countless options.
“First time at Café 7 Dream?”
The voice pulled you from your thoughts. You looked away from the menu to find the boy now standing directly in front of you. In that moment, you were certain his eyes were the most beautiful you’d ever seen. Your gaze dropped to the name tag pinned to his dark blue apron— Jaemin.
Realizing that you were the person he was talking to, you nodded sheepishly in response.
“Um— yeah, it is. Do you have any recommendations?”
He smiled, a little too warmly for a stranger. “A lot of people like our iced matcha latte— but I have a feeling you’ll like it even more.”
“I’ll get that then,” you said, doing your best to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks. There was no way the cute barista was trying to flirt with you.
But when you returned a few minutes later to pick up your drink, a slice of strawberry cream cake sat beside it—delicately placed, as if waiting just for you.
You glanced up at him, puzzled. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ordered this.”
“It’s on the house,” he said smoothly. “Trust me, it goes really well with the matcha.”
A part of you almost laughed—this kind of interaction was entirely new to you. Still, you accepted the unexpected treat with a cautious smile and murmured a thank you. From your seat in the corner of the café, as you sipped your warm drink and tasted the sweet, airy cake, you could feel his gaze lingering. Not intrusive, not unsettling—just warm and kind.
Of course, you were aware of how cliché your beginning with him was. Yet in your memory, that first encounter marked the day someone brought a bit of light into your gloomy world.
~ ~ ~
After that day, going to the cafe gradually became a part of your boring routine. You told yourself it was the cozy atmosphere— a far better setting to study in than your boring studio apartment. But deep down, you knew Jaemin was the reason you kept coming back.
During his breaks, he’d join you at your table, always bringing along a pastry. You protested the first few times, telling him he didn’t have to. But he’d just smile and say, “You look like you could use something sweet today.”
Little by little, the two of you got to know each other during these stolen moments. Over the next few weeks, you learned that Jaemin had graduated a few years ago and now ran this café with his six best friends. On the side, he took up photography gigs— a hobby that turned out to be convenient for extra income. When he showed you his Instagram page, you were genuinely impressed by the quality of the pictures he took.
Jaemin watched with a proud smile as you scrolled through his posts. “I should take a picture of you sometime.”
“I’m not very photogenic,” you replied quietly.
He leaned in just a little, the corners of his mouth lifting into a playful smirk. “Then you clearly haven’t had the right photographer.”
Through him, you also became acquainted with his coworkers. They didn’t all work the same shifts, but you visited often enough to meet every one of them. Each had their own personality and charm, making the café feel like more than just a small business.
Mark was the eldest, an aspiring musician— you could tell by the way he scribbled down lyrics onto old receipt paper. Then there was Renjun, who painted all the murals in the café, filling the place with color and character. He also ended up falling victim to Donghyuck’s teasing. It seemed that pestering his friends was one of the light brown-haired male’s hobbies. But his charisma was evident— especially with female customers who laughed at all his jokes.
Chenle, despite being the second youngest, actually owned Café 7 Dream. You could always hear his loud, infectious laugh that was full of life. At the same time, he still managed the business professionally. Jisung was the maknae, taller than all of them but also the most socially awkward. He was a recent graduate who had been working there since his university days. And then there was Jeno, who you saw the most working alongside Jaemin. He was probably the calmest one in the group, listening quietly and watching over his friends fondly.
Another thing you came to learn about Jaemin was that he didn’t like to waste time. So by the end of the month, he took his shot.
It was a cool spring evening, the kind where the air felt gentle and full of unspoken things. Jaemin walked beside you in comfortable silence, your footsteps echoing softly down the quiet street. By the time you reached your apartment, he stopped and turned to face you— something different in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher. What you thought would be another “good night” changed into something more with just one step closer.
“Go out with me,” he said with a small breath, holding his hand out.
The way he asked so casually yet undeniably confidently sent a kaleidoscope of butterflies to your heart. With a small smile, you slipped yours into his and said okay.
For your first date, he took you to a cherry blossom festival— knowing they were your favorite. As night fell and the two of you wandered beneath the canopy of blooming trees, bathed in soft moonlight and petals drifting like snow, he asked to kiss you. The kiss was tender and unhurried— his hands cupping your face like you were something delicate, something cherished.
There were so many kisses after that first one. So many pet names whispered fondly just for you, but princess ended up being the one that stuck. So many photos from all the dates Jaemin took to prove you were indeed photogenic. So many nights spent snuggling in each other’s arms, dreaming about your future together. So many “I love you”s— spoken in times of laughter and in the darker hours.
Like a soft summer breeze, a year passed in the blink of an eye. The illuminating light from Jaemin’s world spilled into yours, gently chasing away the lingering storm clouds.
But spring was never meant to last when winter was slowly but surely on its way.
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Jaemin studied the glass display case, his eyes catching the glimmer of countless rings sparkling beneath them. However, some might say it wasn’t just the jewelry that made his eyes shine.
“You’re really going to propose to her?” Jeno asked, leaning beside him.
His question was more out of curiosity than surprise. Most couples waited at least two years before even thinking about marriage. But Jaemin was confident. He’d felt it from the moment he first saw you nervously standing in front of the counter.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “I’m telling you, Jeno. She’s the one.”
Jeno nodded in understanding. It didn’t take a genius to see how completely smitten Jaemin was. The guys had all witnessed their fair share of sweet, sappy moments between the two of you— and they also couldn’t deny how genuine your love was.
“Hello, would you like some help?” One of the sales associates asked, approaching the two boys with a polite smile.
Jaemin looked up from the glass case to the woman. “Yes, please! I’m planning to propose to my girlfriend after her graduation.”
“Ah, I see. Do you have any idea of what style she likes?”
“Uh—well, she doesn’t really wear a lot of accessories,” Jaemin admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But I know she prefers simple things.”
The sales lady nodded and pulled out a velvet tray lined with shimmering rings for Jaemin to examine more closely. He listened intently as she explained the different cuts and settings, until a sudden sharp pain shot through his skull. It almost felt like a needle driving straight into his temple.
His breath hitched and his eyes squeezed shut against the invisible blow, trying to mask the wince that threatened to betray him. The world seemed to tilt slightly, sound warping around the edges. The pain vanished as soon as it came.
“Dude, you okay?” Jeno asked, placing a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder.
He blinked, still a little disoriented. “Huh? Oh, I-I’m fine. It was just a small headache.”
Straightening up, he turned back to the sales associate, forcing a calm expression as he scanned the selection of rings. After a few seconds of contemplation, Jaemin pointed to the second-to-last ring.
“I’ll get that one,” he said confidently, acting like nothing happened.
The sales associate shot a quick, uncertain glance at Jeno, who returned it with a slight furrow of his brow. Jaemin pretended not to notice, keeping his focus on the ring display.
It wasn’t a big deal— just a headache. Everyone got them. Perfectly normal. Besides, this moment wasn’t about that. This was about you.
Unfortunately, the headaches became more frequent— followed by dizziness, then bouts of vomiting. It got bad enough that Jaemin could see the growing concern in your eyes each time it happened. But he still brushed them off with jokes.
“I think your beauty is giving me headaches,” he teased once, wincing.
But you weren’t laughing.
One night, he collapsed on the cafê’s backstairs, and this time, you refused to let him keep downplaying this.
“Jaem, you need to see a doctor,” you insisted firmly, holding onto him.
He finally relented, seeing how worried you were. “Only if you come with me,” he said softly, a hint of vulnerability flickering in his eyes.
“Of course I will,” you murmured, planting a kiss on his cheek.
A week later, they sat in the cold, sterile room, your hand clutching his. The doctor stared at his computer screen, then at Jaemin, then back once more. He hesitated before turning the monitor toward you both.
With a quiet click, he pointed to the CT scans. “It appears that you have multiple glioblastomas. That’s what’s been causing the headaches and vomiting.
Jaemin blinked, his expression blank with disbelief, narrowing his eyes as he tried to make sense of the images. You felt his grip tighten around your hand.
“We’ll have to do a biopsy to learn more,” the doctor resumed, folding his hands on the desk. “But without surgery… I’d say you have around three to four months.”
Neither of you said anything for a long moment. His gaze was fixed on the glowing scans of his brain as if the scattered white blobs might suddenly disappear. Next to him, you were silently praying that this was all a bad dream.
There was no outburst, no panic. Just a fragile calm that somehow felt louder than anything else in the room.
“I see. Well, that explains a lot,” He exhaled steadily, glancing over to you.
You looked at him briefly, then turned to the doctor and dipped your head politely. “Thank you, Dr. Kim.”
The silence lingered between you as you walked through the parking lot. Finally, you slowed to a stop as you neared his car. He was confused when you let go of his hand. Only for a second later to feel your arms wrapped around his larger frame.
“Are you okay?” you asked softly, resting your cheek against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat— quicker than usual, uneven.
“No,” he quietly admitted. “I’m scared, princess.”
Trying to ignore the heartache growing heavier within, you hugged him tighter. “I know. I’m here, and we’re going to get through this.”
The two of you just stood there in the parking lot, holding each other close. The world was shifting, moving in a direction neither of you was prepared for.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
One thing Jaemin couldn’t stop thinking about was how you didn’t cry that day— not in the doctor’s office, not even in the car afterward. He knew you weren’t the overly emotional type, but still… you’d always had a soft heart. Like the way you occasionally teared up during k-dramas, curling up beside him as if the sadness on screen was your own.
Yet you didn’t cry. Not once.
You didn’t cry when he decided against getting the surgery, respecting his wishes. You didn’t cry when his condition worsened, patiently massaging his temple, cleaning the nose bleeds, and all the rushes to the hospital. You didn’t cry even as you held his mother’s hand as she broke down in the hallway when she found out the news. All these things you did so calmly, without a single tear escaping.
Instead, you smiled and held his hand through it all. During that first month, you made every second count. A picnic at Han River, visiting that cat café he always wanted to try, snapping sweet and playful pictures at a photo booth, spending a day at an amusement park with the guys. You did all the things young couples usually did with their friends— except with the painful reminder tucked away in the back of your minds. For all of you knew that those beautiful moments would live forever as memories.
Even in that last month when Jaemin chose to remain at his home with you as his caregiver, you didn’t cry. The guys did when they visited in turns, each one trying—and often failing to hold back tears as they watched their once vibrant friend grow weaker with each passing day.
Every weekend or so, you brought a fresh bouquet of yellow or pink tulips to place near the windowsill in his room. On the weekdays, you’d sit beside him after class and show him funny videos on your phone, or chat about your professors. Despite his lack of appetite, you continued to make his favorite soups and stews, hoping he’d manage to eat at least a few spoonfuls. Thanks to you, his room stayed a little brighter every day and not just from the flowers.
One afternoon, Jaemin managed to gather enough strength for a short walk to get some fresh air. That’s when he saw you sitting on a bench outside the apartment complex, talking with Jeno. He wasn’t far, just close enough to overhear your conversation.
His best friend handed you an iced matcha latte he picked up from the café. You accepted it with a murmured thank-you and took a sip. The drink didn’t taste the same— nothing ever did when Jaemin made it, but you appreciated the gesture all the same.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently. Hesitating to answer, your gaze remained fixated on the green beverage in your hands.
“Why are you asking me that? Jaemin is the one in pain,” you spoke in nearly a whisper, shaking your head slowly.
Jeno leaned forward slightly, his voice low and steady. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean your feelings matter any less.”
Finally, you met his eyes with tears of your own that were threatening to escape. Tears that you’ve been holding in for so long.
“It’s not fair,” you breathed, voice starting to crack. “He’s the kindest, most genuine, and caring person I’ve ever known. He doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“You’re right. He doesn’t.” Jeno nodded, the lump in his throat too thick to swallow.
You sniffed, reaching up to brush away the first tear that escaped. “I’ve been praying every night. I keep asking God for some miracle or to take me instead. Anything… if it means Jaemin could live.”
Your shoulders began to tremble as the dam inside you finally broke. “Because I don’t know how to live in a world without him. He’s…he’s my soulmate.”
Sorrow filled Jeno’s eyes, but no words came. Nothing seemed comforting or reassuring enough. So instead, he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He wasn’t usually the emotional type. Yet the sound of your heartbroken sobs and the reality brought a sting to his eyes, tears silently welling despite himself.
Jaemin watched from a distance, each second splintering his heart a little more. Long before either of you could notice him, he turned away and headed back inside.
It had taken nearly three months for Jaemin to finally see you cry.
Later that night, Jaemin carefully watched as you helped him take his medication. He weakly lifted the glass of water to swallow the pills, while you twisted the cap back onto the prescription bottle and set it on his nightstand in silence. You remained composed as ever, as if your breakdown in front of Jeno had never happened. But Jaemin could see through the façade.
“Princess.”
“Hm?” you murmured. Your fingertips brushed as you reached for the cup he held out.
Eyes locked, you caught the intensity in his gaze. Like there were all these unspoken words building up continuously, waiting for the right moment to be released. But it was clear that he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“After the diagnosis, I told you I was scared,” he began, pausing to lick his dry lips.
Your hands stilled on the glass, thoughts of confusion forming. Why was he bringing this up now?
Before you could ask, he continued steadily. “Not just because I was afraid of dying… but because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you. I still can’t. I’m still afraid.”
“Jaem…” You dropped eye contact, placing the water down beside his medicine. But then, his trembling hand closed over yours, urging you to look at him again.
His fingers curled gently into your palm, drawing you in with his warmth. “I’ve accepted that all of this is out of my control. What matters to me the most is how you feel. So please— you don’t have to keep pretending to be strong for me.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, lips quivering as fresh tears welled in your eyes. “I just wanted to fill every moment of yours with joy.”
Jaemin smiled, even as his heart ached at your words. “You have, princess. From the day we met, you’ve given me so much more joy and love than I ever imagined.”
Quietly, he withdrew his hand— only to lean in for a kiss. This one was similar to your first, yet so much more. It carried sorrow, apologies, and a profound love that couldn’t be conveyed with just words.
You kissed back with desperation, clinging to every deep press of his lips. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer, as if he could memorize the shape of you in this final form. When you pulled away, you realized he was fighting back tears of his own.
“Princess, promise me— promise me you’ll find happiness when I’m gone,” he breathed, his fingers still tangled in your hair.
You shook your head, voice breaking. “How can I be happy without you?”
“Trust me, you will,” he said, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Because you’re going to live a long, beautiful life. You’re going to meet someone who makes you smile again.”
“I can’t… Jaemin, I just can’t,” you mumbled, clutching his hand as you cried.
Biting his lip, he pulled you into a tender embrace. He knew that there was little he could say to ease your pain— not when his own life was gradually slipping away. As the world around you crumbled, the only thing you could do was cry in each other’s arms, holding onto every fleeting, precious moment together.
Days blurred into hours. Hours slipped into minutes. Minutes dissolved into seconds. Jaemin slept more, spoke less. He could feel his strength fading with each passing moment. But every time he opened his eyes, you were right beside him.
Just like now, you were drawing light patterns on the back of his hand. His breathing was slow and shallow, yet his eyes never left yours. You leaned in close, pressing your lips to his knuckles.
There was so much you still needed to say. You wanted to thank him— for all the matcha lattes he made for you, for the late nights he stayed up with you during exam periods, for the warm hugs that always found you on your worst days. For melting the ice in your heart and showing you what spring truly felt like. So many words stood at the tip of your tongue, aching to be said. But there wasn’t enough time.
“Thank you for loving me, Jaemin,” you said, offering a soft smile.
“Loving you…” He whispered, barely audible, “was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
The tears you tried so hard to contain streamed down your cheeks, betraying you.
“I love you. I love you so much,” you murmured, your voice breaking.
A faint twitch tugged at the corner of his lips— almost a smile. His eyes stayed on you unwaveringly, taking in the face of the person he adored so dearly. He knew you were going to be okay. Somehow, that was enough.
Even as his grip loosened, you kept holding onto his hand. You weren’t ready to let go yet.
Just like that, your first love was over.
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Jaemin’s funeral passed in a haze. With a heavy heart, you blended into the sea of black coats, surrounded by respectful condolences and the haunting sound of his mother’s wails. Everyone mourned, but none more than those closest to him. You remember clutching Jisung’s broad frame as he wept uncontrollably. The other guys were no better; each lost in their own sorrow. But who could blame them?
After the solemn ceremony, life had no choice but to pick up where it left off. You returned to classes, took notes during lectures, and submitted your assignments on time. Text messages were answered with short, polite replies.
Your apartment had greeted you in silence after a month-long absence. The sofa still smelled like the clean, warm cotton perfume Jaemin used. His hoodie still lay neatly folded on your dresser. His toothbrush still sat beside yours in the bathroom cup. You couldn’t bring yourself to move them for a long time. As if doing so would erase him completely.
Outwardly, you might have seemed fine to everyone. But they couldn’t see the shift in weather inside— a different version of melancholy than the one you were familiar with. Meals were skipped without thought. Weekends disappeared beneath the covers. Funnily enough, weeknights left you lying awake in bed with racing thoughts.
The promise you made with Jaemin nagged in your mind, constantly and unrelentingly. Even so, you didn’t have the strength to face the storms in your head. Without the warmth Jaemin once shared, it felt as though you were trapped in an eternal winter.
It didn’t help that you were in late January, with Seoul cold as ever. Outside your window, the sky remained a constant shade of gray, with icy breezes flying through the air. The cold weather mirrored your inner world, pushing you further into isolation. February wouldn’t be much better, you believed. But you were proved wrong.
One evening, while studying for finals, your doorbell buzzed. No one was there when you creaked the door open— but you could hear the faint echo of footsteps down the hall. But at your feet sat a neatly wrapped plastic bag filled with small paper boxes that smelled like something fried.
You lifted the bag slowly, eyes falling on the yellow sticky note attached to the front. Scribbled neatly in black marker, it read, “Thought you might be hungry. Good luck on finals!” A quiet smile found its way to your lips before you could stop it.
That’s how Lee Jeno gradually began to show up more. Whether it be dropping off food before you could reject it, or sending funny videos on social media. You didn’t know how to feel about his kindness at first. Did he pity you? Why bother taking time out of his day to check in on you?
But as those types of questions raced through your mind, you remembered that Jaemin would never be friends with someone with bad intentions. Then you thought that Jeno must be grieving too. After all, the two had known each other long before you were in the story.
“I miss him,” you whispered one night at a tent bar, sitting across from him. Only a single bottle of soju was empty on the table. But it was enough to unlock the emotions you’d kept hidden from everyone.
Tears welled up, stinging your eyes as your grip on the glass tightened. “It hasn’t even been that long. But I already miss him so much.”
Jeno’s gaze remained fixed on the clear liquid in his shot glass. “Yeah, me too,” he said softly before swallowing the alcohol in one steady gulp.
Somehow, sharing those vulnerable moments helped both of you feel less miserable. January slipped away, and February arrived— bringing the inevitable approach of your graduation with it. Though many consider earning a degree to be a great milestone, you hadn’t expected to feel excited or accomplished like your peers. Not without Jaemin— the one who stayed up late with you while you studied, or brought you warm bungeoppang after exams.
Yet as you waited in line to receive your diploma, the frown you’d worn since morning began to fade. Stepping onto the stage in your blue cap and gown, a wave of cheers caught your attention. Briefly scanning the crowd, you spotted the familiar group of guys. All of them were grinning proudly, holding up brightly decorated signs with your name. You let out a small laugh as you walked off stage, feeling equally embarrassed and touched.
They held a party for you at Café 7 Dream, closing the entire place exclusively for the occasion. For someone who strived to keep their emotions in check, you spent the evening fighting back tears. Not from sadness, but because, surrounded by flowers, cake, and lighthearted teasing, you realized your world didn’t have to be lonely. Although Jaemin might be gone, he had also left behind six friends who genuinely cared about you.
At the end of an unforgettable night, Jeno drove you home. Most of the ride was Jeno telling you about Mark stressing over which flowers to buy, and Renjun nearly forgetting to pick up the cake earlier. Then just as he pulled up in front of your apartment and your mouth opened to say a proper thank-you, Jeno spoke first.
“There’s one more surprise for you,” he said, reaching into the glove compartment.
You blinked in confusion as he handed you a small teal-blue box. Jeno nodded encouragingly, gesturing for you to open it. When you did, a sparkling ring caught the light and shimmered like a captured star. The delicate white-gold band was elegantly simple, featuring a tiny diamond that glistened at its center.
“Jeno, what-” you started to ask.
“Oh, right. He wanted me to give you this too,” Jeno interjected, pulling out a slip of paper from his jacket and handing it to you.
Leaning back in the leather car seat, you recognized the handwriting instantly once you unfolded it. Na Jaemin. Your hands trembled as you read the letter. By the time you reached the end, the paper was dampened from the drops of tears that had fallen. Jeno stayed silent, patting your shoulder in a gentle rhythm as more sobs broke free.
My dearest (Y/n),
If you’re reading this now, it must be on the day of your graduation. I swear, I had this whole plan in my head. You see, I bought this ring before everything changed. I was going to take you back to the café and throw a small party to celebrate. Then, when everyone left, I’d start to get down on one knee and give my whole speech about why you should marry me. But I guess things don’t always work out the way we intended them to. Either way, I hope it’s okay if I share my speech here in this letter.
From the day we met, I knew that you were the one for me. Maybe it was the quiet overwhelm in your expression as you read our menu or the shy voice you used when ordering. Perhaps it was the way you smiled after taking a bite of the strawberry cake I had given you. I knew from then on, I wanted to keep seeing you smile.
As it turned out, you ended up being the one to make me smile more. You made my days softer. You made my nights warmer. You gave me the peace I didn’t know I needed. And by opening your heart to me— even during the hard times- gave me a purpose. A purpose to love and protect.
But after the diagnosis, I realized that I won’t be able to fulfill this purpose. I’ll never get to propose to you with this ring. I’ll never be able to see you walk down the aisle in a white dress. I’ll never get to see you tearing up (even if you never cry) when holding our first child. I’ll never get to grow old with you.
A thousand apologies cannot express how sorry I am for not giving you the life we dreamed of together. But I don’t want that to hold you back from pursuing happiness. You don’t have to forget me. I don’t want you to if I’m being honest. But I do want you to live. Go on the trips we wrote down on your bucket list. Fall in love again— when you’re ready of course.
I know it won’t be easy. But when you think about it, we are blessed to have already made so many memories together. So don’t carry sorrow in your chest forever, princess. You were born to feel the world, not be crushed under it.
Every moment with you was a gift. Every moment with you was healing. Every moment with you was love.
With all my love,
Na Jaemin
P.S. If you ever go see the cherry blossoms and a few petals land in your hair, I hope you’ll smile. That’ll be me saying hi.
genre: college au, neighbors to lovers, slight angst
warnings: mentions of insecurities, slightly suggestive toward the end
word Count: ~1.6k
author's Note: hi, i know it's been some time. but please look forward to my future works ^ ^
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Finally, you felt like a true adult living in your own place during your third year of college. While the dorms at your university were nice, the idea of having your own space—even if it was a 300 square feet studio apartment was incredibly exciting (and you did not get excited easily).
Balancing a load of groceries in your hands, you forcefully pushed open the entrance door to the apartment building. As you approached the numerous flights of stairs, you mentally cursed. Usually, you would take the elevator. But unfortunately it’s been broken for the past few weeks, leaving the stairs as your only choice.
With a sigh, you reinforced your grip on the plastic bags, readying yourself for the climb ahead. However, just as you reached the first landing a male voice called from behind.
“Need a hand?” You turned to see it was Lee Jeno, the graduate student who lived right next door.
The mere sight of his gentle eyes and perfect jawline was enough to make your heart race. Not to mention the white tank top he wore made him look like he could’ve walked straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. He had a black duffel bag slung over his shoulder, looking like he just came back from the gym.
Even though your arms were trembling from both the twenty minute walk and the stairs, you didn’t want to seem weak. “Oh… I’m okay,” you mumbled.
However Jeno chuckled as he walked up to meet you on the landing. “You say that, but you look like your arms are about to give out.”
Before you could protest, he was already reaching for the heavier bags, his hands brushing yours for a brief second. Flustered, two of you walked up the rest of the stairs together. It felt strange to be in Jeno’s presence for more than just polite greetings.
“Thanks, really,” you murmured, once you reached your door.
“No problem,” he said, handing the bags back to you with a gentle smile. “That’s what neighbors are for, right?”
You nodded shyly, trying to ignore how your heart was racing. He gave you a small wave before heading to his own door next to yours, disappearing inside. You quickly punched in the passcode to your door lock, still warm over the interaction.
That evening, you stood in front of your stove— having no idea if this was too much or it might come off as awkward. Still, your hands moved with practiced ease, carefully packing the dinner you’d prepared into a bento box. Just some grilled mackerel with purple rice, along with some kimchi and sautéed spinach as side dishes.
Later that night, you found yourself standing outside Jeno’s door, a neatly wrapped bento box in hand. While making dinner for yourself and your roommate, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to share some with him as a small thank-you. After all, you were neighbors—surely there was nothing wrong with this, right?
Before you could chicken out, you quickly pressed the doorbell. You held your breath as you waited for footsteps on the other side, trying to swallow your nerves. Moments later, the door opened, revealing Jeno wearing a loose black shirt and grey sweats.
He blinked in surprise. “(Y/n)?”
“H-Hi,” you stammered, holding out the neatly wrapped bento. “Um… I just wanted to properly thank you for helping me out earlier.”
His eyes dropped to the box, then back at you, his lips parting in surprise before curving into a small smile. “You made this for me?”
You nodded, nervously adjusting your glasses. “It’s nothing fancy. Just something simple I put together.”
“That’s really sweet, thank you,” he said, sounding genuinely touched as he accepted the food. Then, after a brief pause, “Do you want to come in for a bit?”
“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t want to intrude,” you laughed, shaking your head as you waved him off.
But before you could step away, he lightly caught your wrist. “No, you’re not. I mean it,” he said firmly, his voice gentle yet insistent.
Your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, heart fluttering in your chest. Words momentarily escaped your mind, as you simply nodded and quietly embraced his invitation.
Inside, his dimly lit apartment was clean and organized, cozy in a way you didn’t expect from a grad student. He set the bento on the counter and unwrapped the light yellow cloth holding it. You held your breath as he lifted the metal lid. He looked back at you with a grin.
“This is incredible. You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble” he said, pulling out a pair of chopsticks from a drawer.
Smiling, you settled onto a high stool across from him. “I know,” you said softly, “But I wanted to.”
A flutter of butterflies filled your chest as you watched him take a bite of the fish. His eyes widened with delight, the butterflies were quickly replaced by a quiet, blooming warmth.
“I should cook for you some time too. It’s only fair,” Jeno offered with a playful smile, scooping up some rice.
A blush crept your cheeks. “You cook?”
“Well, it won’t look as pretty as this. But I promise I’m pretty decent,” he chuckled, making you smile as well.
And just like that, a neighborly friendship began to blossom. What started as a weekly dinner— alternating between his place or yours, soon became a twice-a-week routine. You often baked on the weekend, so you also ended up sharing your hobby with him and his roommate Jaemin. Whether it be matcha cookies, triple chocolate brownies, or soufflé cheesecakes, Jeno welcomed all of them with childlike excitement. Sometimes Jaemin would wander into the kitchen, clearly enjoying the treats you brought.
“I swear, if I were Jeno, I would’ve married you by now,” he once said with a teasing smirk.
The comment made your cheeks burn and earned a sharp glare from Jeno. His roommate chuckled, holding his hands up in defense. “Relax, I’m only kidding! But… my door is always open, (Y/n)-ssi.”
Jeno rolled his eyes as Jaemin sauntered off to his room. “Ignore him. He flirts with anything that breathes,” he muttered, making you laugh.
Despite that, Jeno remained the kind, respectful presence that made you feel safe. Gradually, your casual dinners turned into late-night talks. About life, school, the future. You found yourself opening up about things you rarely talked about with anyone.
“To be honest, I don’t really dream of some big career after college,” you confessed one evening. “I know it sounds silly, but what I really want is to be a mom someday— at least a better one than mine was.”
Jeno listened intently, nodding. “That’s not silly at all. And I can already tell that you’ll be a great mother.”
You looked up at him, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. “You really think so?”
“I do,” he affirmed, without hesitation. The sincerity in his voice brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away with a smile.
Over time Jeno began confiding in you as well. Though he was usually level-headed and rarely let things get to him, there were still moments when the weight of everything became a little too heavy. And before he met you, Jeno would just keep it to himself and suck it up. But with you, he didn’t have to.
“Sometimes, I just feel like I’m not cut out for this, you know?” he exhaled, eyes drifting to the warm mug of yuzu tea cradled in his hands.
You stayed silent, letting him speak as he talked about the burnout from grad school. Even as an undergrad, you could only imagine how much more demanding it was. Once he finished and you had processed it all, you looked at him gently.
“I don’t think anyone feels cut out for it all the time,” you said, your voice calm and steady. “But the fact that you’re still pushing through, even when it feels like too much… That says a lot about you.”
Without thinking, you reached for his hand and offered a small smile. “For what it’s worth, you’re doing great Jeno. You work so hard and give your all to everything you do. So don’t sell yourself short.”
Jeno’s Adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed, glancing down to your hand resting on his. When he met your eyes—warm with admiration and comfort—a rush of unfamiliar emotions surged through him, feelings he never imagined he was capable of experiencing.
“You know, you’re really something (Y/n),” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as his hand instinctively reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You smiled in response, about to say something— but the words never came. His hand remained and before you could process it, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a moment, caught off guard. But the tenderness in his touch and the way his lips molded so perfectly against yours felt impossibly right. When he pulled back seconds later, slight panic flashed in his eyes as he realized what he had just done. But before he could apologize, you cupped his face and gently guided him back to you.
A faint noise escaped him as his hand threaded through your hair, deepening the kiss with deliberate, unhurried movements. His other arm slipped around your waist, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you. In response, your fingertips followed the curve of his jaw, matching the intensity he poured into every touch.
When you finally parted, lips kiss-bruised and flushed, time felt like a distant concept. All you could register was the lingering warmth between you and the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.
“Stay?” he asked, his voice low and slightly breathless.
You simply nodded, slowly going in for another kiss, letting the rest of the night unfold without resistance.
By morning, whatever bond you and Jeno once shared had clearly crossed the line from neighborly to something far more intimate.
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