#jaemin scenario

[lucyandthepen]

love on the floor - i. | njm

exactly when does vice president na turn from the company’s worst nightmare into your favorite daydream?

pairing: chaebol!na jaemin x secretary fem!reader rating: vaguely M, but will very quickly escalate into a hard R in coming chapters genre: romance, fluff, (eventual) smut (in later chapters), chaebol!au warnings: jaemin isn’t really a total asshole but he isn’t great at the beginning either and i think that should be a warning, there’s probably some language use that deserves a bit of caution i GUESS, but tbh nothing much here because we want to pretend that this is a fic of chaste circumstances and not a lead-up to raunchy, depraved smut  word count: 16.4k

author’s note: first of all, the development of this fic is absolute SHIT because i love context too much and refuse to shut up at the beginning only to get antsy for the ending so if the pace is a little stop and go … it’s because i’m a Fewl !! and i totally own up to that !! and second of all, this is actually just a set-up for about two more shorter (?? what’s shorter) works that i’ve already been wanting to write but felt like i would be remiss in doing so without some kind of build-up to the relationship so :^) here we are ! heavily unbeta'd and miss lucy is a bit rusty but we carry on for the sake of enjoying oneself (and practicing writing once again) muah enjoy!

At least this job gets you free medical. 

Actually, all things considered, this is an excellent job with limitless benefits. You never have to worry about the three-level insurance, you have monthly paid-for visits to the dentist, and you sometimes get to use the company car for personal errands for as long as you meticulously check everyone else’s schedules and butter up the head secretary, Son Seungwan, just enough so that she feels mollified enough to let you have this favor (but not too much to the point that she catches on and gives you a ten minute lecture on the rising prices of gas post-the-turn-of-the-decade). Your rent’s well paid-for, and the apartment you’re staying at is comfortable, albeit a little smaller than most, although that’s just because you prefer spending your money on once-in-a-lifetime type things, like front row seats to a Paul Kim concert. You get 50% discounts at the company cafeteria, which boasts a pretty nice salad bar with more than just perilla leaves as the greens. The bathrooms even have luxury soap installed into the automatic hand dispensers, so you always come out clean and fancy smelling. 

All in all, the job’s pretty perfect, to the point that you don’t think leaving will ever truly be in the cards — except for the fact that you barely see your boss, which, as nice as it sounds on paper, is actually the most stressful part of the position. 

You’ve always been of the opinion that if Vice President Na Jaemin put his mind to something, he’d actually do it very well, but the running issue is that he hardly ever puts his mind to anything, especially when it comes to work. In fact, the only thing he ever seems to take seriously is having eleven hours of uninterrupted sleep, which you personally think is an extremely hard thing to achieve, leading you to the firm belief that if he channeled that energy into something less dead-to-the-world and a little more productive, things would be amazing. 

And maybe things would also be a little less distressing if his family would just accept him for who he is instead of expecting too much (or, actually, anything) from him, but Vice President Na is the only son of the family that owns the largest telecom company in the country, so his parents have a ton of huge expectations for him. His father, in particular, is clearly trying to prepare him to take over the entire business, something that the Vice President clearly isn’t keen on doing, based on the many arguments you’ve had to sit through alongside Head Secretary Son. The result is a lot of tension that’s only exacerbated by the Vice President’s desire to avoid more conflict, which he does by suddenly disappearing from the office for hours — sometimes days — at a time. 

So for as much medical, dental, and reasonably priced caesar salad as you’re getting from this job, you’re not entirely sure how worth it those things all are if they come with the task of you having to sit through twenty minutes of lecturing in place of Vice President Na Jaemin himself. 

“This is the last time,” President Na roars — not necessarily at you, but at you, in your general direction, while you stand helplessly in front of his desk, your hands folded across your lap and your head hung low. You don’t really feel terrified or hurt — more than knowing that the President isn’t shouting at you for your incompetence, you’ve also gotten used to being on the receiving end of these weird, indirect lectures and have thus come to know the exact standard of ‘sorry’ that you have to look for it to be over as quickly as possible. Still, you’re kind of annoyed that this particular spiel is taking up precious minutes from your afternoon break. Then again, you don’t know what you’d expected to begin with when you’d come back from the cafeteria after lunch and found the Vice President’s chair abandoned, leather cold, indicating that he’d been gone for quite a while. It’s about four o’clock now, and he still hasn’t come back, and all your messages to him have gone unread, as you’ve also grown used to. “You tell my no-good son if he isn’t back within the hour, he can live the rest of his life without my last name.”

You’re not sure if the implications of that will really sink into the Vice President’s heart enough to trigger the guilt it’s clearly trying to elicit, but you know better than to voice your opinion. You nod once, then bow at a perfect ninety-degree angle. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Four years of this, and he hasn’t learned a single thing,” the President continues, completely ignoring your useless and vaguely insincere apology. “Where’d he run off to this time?” 

You don’t know. You never really know. Since he actively tries to avoid all work-related things, he also actively tries to avoid you, something he does by never picking up the phone or telling you the details of his daily schedule anyway. You can only share what you do know, which is very little and, therefore, extremely useless, but you try to say it in a way that appears relatively helpful. “His schedule says he was supposed to have lunch with the foreign investors that are trying to connect Prime Video to the Korean market, but it seems he didn’t show up for that.”

Which essentially translates to: you have no clue. Again, all parties in the room — inclusive of Head Secretary Son, who constantly has to bear witness to the many threats Vice President Na receives via you — know this isn’t your fault, but it doesn’t make the vein that’s about to pop out of the President’s temple any less pronounced, nor does it stop you from bowing and apologizing again when he says “get him back in here before five o’clock or tell him he’ll never be able to step foot in this building again!” even though you know that the threat would probably sound more like a gift than anything else to Vice President Na. 

“And you,” the President points a vaguely accusatory finger at you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. “If he isn’t back here at that time, you can kiss your job goodbye too. You go ahead and tell him that. Let’s see if Jaemin will finally get off his ass if he knows someone else is going to have to suffer for his behavior.” 

The only person who sees your jaw fall open is Head Secretary Son, who’s now leading you away from the President’s desk and towards the door; the President has taken to staring at this huge family picture of himself, his wife, and the Vice President that’s hanging just behind his executive’s chair, all looking considerably happier than anyone in this situation feels. You hear him mutter something that sounds like “where did I go wrong with you, you punk?” before the door shuts close behind you.

“I’d say he doesn’t mean that, but we don’t actually know to what lengths he’ll go to get the Vice President on board.” Head Secretary Son admits, lifting two fingers to gently shut your mouth, still agape. “If I were you, I’d figure out how to keep him on a leash. The fact that he’s never around is probably ninety-percent of our current problems.”

“I can barely get him to respond to schedule reminders,” you groan; your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose like this will somehow stop the oncoming migraine. “Let alone get him to stay still. I was just about to put in a down payment for a car of my own, too.” 

You’ve never really been considerably attached to this job, mostly because there isn’t much to actually attach yourself to, but if you think about it now, it really is better than most, and this economy isn’t really kind to people who get fired from their jobs. You feel like puking at the thought of losing the free unlimited coffee in the pantry and trading it in for a life behind a convenience store counter, which is probably where you’ll end up, pessimistically speaking.

You excuse yourself from Head Secretary Son, who has the heart to look a little pitying as you trudge towards the elevator. You don’t even know where you’d start looking for the Vice President, especially since he spends quite a lot of his efforts trying to avoid having to communicate with you. You don’t even know what his habits are, which means you can’t make educated guesses on where he might have run off to, so the only route to go is to look in the immediately surrounding area and widening your search diameter as time passes.

Until five o’clock, of course — a deadline that, if unmet, will likely mean you also won’t be returning to the office either. 

You start off at the nearby bookstore, extremely skeptical that the Vice President would ever willingly go to a place that requires more effort even after you make a purchase. As expected, he isn’t there, but he isn’t in the nextdoor candle shop (also unlikely) either, nor do you find him in the hand-cut noodles shop next to that as well. You walk down the entire street for a good twenty minutes, pressing your face against the windows of stores shamelessly, to the ire of many startled and disgruntled staff, trying to look for a familiar head shape in the small crowds in them, but to no avail. Then, you think about calling him again, but when you pat the pockets of your jacket, you realize your phone is still on your desk, where you’d left it when you’d been summoned to see the President. With a loud groan and an annoyed clip clop of your heels as you stamp your feet on the pavement, you walk back to the office. 

In your frenzy to find the Vice President, you’d gone quite a distance, and your shoes simply aren’t made for long, aggravated walks; they start hurting your feet halfway back, and you’re pretty sure you have a blister behind the strap of the left one. Pride would tell you to tough it out, but you’d thrown that out at the thought of losing your job at the expense of a single man, so you don’t even hesitate to take them off and run back to the building. The big digital clock above the elevators says you have ten minutes left to find your boss, and you start thinking about using that time for better things — like packing your stuff up neatly in a box for when you get sacked. 

With the situation seemingly hopeless, you trudge to the first floor cafe, where the return counter has a pitcher of water and a stack of tiny paper cups. They’re tiny tiny, like the size of your thumb, so you have to keep refilling it just to start feeling a little more human. 

You’re on your third refill when you hear a giggle come from across the space. The barista’s just finished laughing at what must have been an extremely hilarious joke, or she might be flirting with whoever’s leaning over the counter to talk to her. A whoever that seems to be the exact same height and build as the elusive Vice President of this company. 

You accidentally toss the paper cup in the plastics bin in your desperation to get moving, worried that if you’re not fast enough, he’ll disappear into thin air again. Luckily, his attention’s completely focused on the barista, so he can’t go anywhere when you finally reach his side and huff, loud enough to interrupt what seems like an intimate-ish conversation between them. 

“Sorry, I was just — oh, it’s you.” The Vice President’s smile fades when he sees it’s you, someone he can’t charm out of what they’re supposed to be doing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the Vice President smile at you in any capacity, anyway, except for maybe one or two slightly sarcastic smiles that are probably more fit to be classified as grimaces. “What do you want?” 

“I’ve been looking all over for you, sir,” you say, stiffly and a little quietly because you still don’t want to embarrass him in front of the slightly confused barista. “You haven’t answered my texts.”

You don’t have any way to check, but you’re pretty sure this is a safe enough assumption, which is corroborated by the Vice President bringing his phone out and checking the screen lazily before turning it back off. 

“Sorry. I don’t answer unknown numbers.”

You guess it makes sense that he wouldn’t want to save your number when he hates hearing about work, which is all you really try to communicate with him about, but it still stings considering it’s been two years and you’ve been using the same number since high school. It’s fine, you think. You really can’t expect much from him. 

“Well, your father’s been looking for you, too. He wants to meet you.”

“I’ll take a rain check, but thank you.”

“Sir,” your voice quivers with poorly quelled exasperation. “This isn’t an optional thing. This is very serious.” 

“I can see that, Briar Rose,” his eyes are trained towards your shoes, still dangling from your grasp, with a level of unabashed amusement. “Did he summon me from deep within the woods, or is this a new casual Friday look I should get in on?”

When his words are met with a stony silence, he sighs, pushing himself off the counter. His half-finished Americano is collecting a small pool of condensation under it, and you offer him the little handful of tissues you had gotten from the return counter and had originally been planning to use to wipe your tears in case you cried after getting fired so that he doesn’t waste time looking for something to hold his cup. He takes them without even a word of thanks, opting to instead say ‘lead the way, miss.’ You don’t miss the fact that he meets the barista’s eye with a considerably more genuine grin, raising a hand in goodbye to her before he strides ahead — before you even get a chance to lead the way at all — towards the elevators with you, hobbling on one foot to slip your shoe back on, not far behind. 

The President’s office must be sort of soundproof for instances like this. For the first time, you’ve been asked to wait outside with Head Secretary Son as the Vice President gets chewed. It doesn’t matter; you don’t really want to be in the middle of yet another round of shouting that has nothing to do with you in the same afternoon, plus you also know how the conversation usually goes: the President making very agitated threats and talking about his heart condition (even though the medical reports from their private doctor say he’s in perfect health) that the Vice President, who just spends the time looking boredly at his nails, will inevitably trigger. When you press your ear to the door for a minute, you actually hear something like ‘... strike you out of the will so that when you kill me, you won’t get a single won!’, and you can imagine Vice President Na’s exasperated sigh punctuating the statement. 

Ten minutes later, the room has gone quiet, and you step aside just in time for the Vice President to open the door and step out. You don’t even understand how he can look so unaffected after being ripped apart, but you suppose he’s also heard the lecture as many times as you have and is pretty much immune to all the insults. He doesn’t really have to make a show out of not caring, though, with his hands in his pockets and his lips pursed to allow him to whistle idly as he strolls down the hall to his barely used office. He’s been in it so few times that after long, inexplicable vacations, he sometimes forgets how to get there. You’ve always had to walk behind him just in case he gets lost or, worse, tries to make a run for it. You’ve never had to tackle him to the ground reciting the Miranda warnings, or anything, but he has faked left a few times just to give you a mild heart attack for the fun of it all. 

This time, he just walks, not bothering to joke you into trying to create a human wall he could just as easily push away. When he gets to his office, he lazily plops down onto his couch, extracting the Rubik’s cube he’d been working on for a few weeks now from underneath himself and spinning the top layer idly. He’s only ever finished the blue side. 

You just stand there, kind of perplexed and unsure of how to start the conversation. He’s still whistling, and you’re not sure if talking over him will count as interrupting him, which isn’t something you’re supposed to do. Thankfully, he stops after about two minutes of fiddling with the yellow side of the cube, looking up at you with a slightly surprised expression that somehow makes you want to cry. 

“Can I help you with something, Secretary ___________?” 

“Well, I…” You stutter for a bit, unsure of how to politely point out that he should be asking you for help with his job instead of the whole other way around. “Because… I just thought…”

“You can always leave a message with my secretary if you need time to figure it out.” He grins. “Oh, wait a minute.”

“Sir, don’t you think you should… I don’t know. Figure out your schedule, or something? Prepare for… anything?” 

“What’s that smell?” He lifts his nose to the air, suddenly curious, and because he looks so serious, you also start sniffing, but you can’t really smell anything out of the ordinary. “Smells… fresh. Very clean. A little like green tea.”

“Oh.” You awkwardly shift your weight from leg to leg. “I think that’s my perfume, but I don’t see w—”

“You smell very expensive, Secretary _____________.” He sounds genuinely surprised that you do, like he’s somehow saying he hadn’t expected you to have good taste. You have no idea where this conversation is coming from, so you chalk it up to him wanting to derail you from talking about work. “I like it. Very classy. Not too strong.”

“Sir, I don’t think now’s the time to be talking about perfume scents.”

“You’re actually quite pretty.” He sounds genuinely surprised again, but this time, it stings a little more. “I never noticed that before. How come?” 

You want to say that it’s because he spends most of his time and energy playing long-term hide-and-seek with you, but there’s also no polite way of putting that into words; even if there were, with the way you’re now bristling under his gaze, you’re not really sure you’d go the courteous route, anyway. You just decide to ignore the comment and question entirely, which you almost get to do.

“Wouldn’t you like to take a look at some of our upcoming projects? For instance, we’re just about to start negotiating the terms of this new partnership with Huawei —”

“You’re pretty, but you’re also pretty tense.” He cuts you off again, now looking a little dejected at this newfound information. You can’t understand why this disappointment in you actually hurts your feelings a little. “I think the cafe downstairs serves some tea, if that kind of stuff helps you.”

“Sir,” the one syllable is laced with weariness, and you knot  your fingers together in front of your lap. It probably looks polite, but it’s mostly so that you can feel like you have some semblance of control over anything, even if it’s just your own body fighting off the urge to grab him by the collar. “Please. If you could just take a look at your schedule — even just for tomorrow —”

“What’s the point?” His shrug is nonchalant, and he’s turning the cube over in his palm now, more interested in looking at it than witnessing your tired expression. “It’s almost six o’clock. I’ll deal with tomorrow tomorrow, you know what I mean? If my dad finally loses his marbles, I’ll deal with it all then. In fact, I might actually be okay with losing this department if it finally actually gets him off my back. I’ll also deal with that when it happens, probably.” 

Another long, uncomfortable silence blooms as his words sink in; not for the first time today, President Na has threatened the existence of your job, now alongside a good twenty other people’s, all for the sake of snapping some sense into the Vice President. However, like everything else, it seems to just be backfiring; Vice President Na doesn’t seem to care about anyone else in this department, most likely because he’s barely interacted with anyone else. You’re surprised he even remembers your last name, considering he once called the department accountant ‘Heejin’ even though her nametag clearly spelled out ‘Jinhee.’ 

It makes sense that the threat of abolishment means absolutely nothing to him, but it doesn’t make the knowledge of that any less distressing. He watches you curiously as you tug back at your ponytail, like it’ll once again stop the crawling migraine. 

“Sure a cup of chamomile tea isn’t in the cards today? I think I have the company card in here somewhere, although I can’t be sure that it hasn’t been cut off, based on my dad’s last threat—” 

“I’m fine; thank you.” You mumble, checking the clock. He’s wasted what’s left of the hour anyway, and the lack of change in his position just means he’s not going to change his mind for the rest of the time. “At least let me give you tomorrow’s agenda.” 

“Boring, but okay. Give it to me, then.” He yawns to make a point, and you offer him the tablet you tote around with you everywhere you go, just in case Vice President Na finally decides he wants to do his job. To clarify: that’s two whole years of you carrying that heavy thing around, with the Vice President only having touched it a handful of times. You’re mildly shocked that he actually opens it to check, because he barely does even that, but that all goes away when he yawns again, his expression glassy as he scrolls down aimlessly. “This is a lot. Can’t you just clear my schedules tomorrow? Actually, if I can make demands for real, I’d like to clear out my schedule for the rest of the year.” 

He stretches when he stands, ignoring your slightly agog expression as he pats you on the back, smacking his lips sleepily. “Good day’s work, Secretary _____________. Want to grab a beer? Have ourselves a little intra-department party? I’m pretty sure ‘intra’ stands for ‘us two,’ or am I wrong?”

You sincerely hope he doesn’t mean a goodbye party, but with his attitude right now, that might very well be. You shake your head, and he shrugs, like he wasn’t really expecting you to agree in the first place. “No thank you, sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He’s already halfway out the door, waving dismissively with his back turned to you. When you peek out of the space he leaves by opening the door, you can see about half the entire department’s watching, not even bothering to pretend to scurry back to their seats as he saunters out of the office. He calls out to you, his voice ringing clear even though he’s already out of sight. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

You come up with a master plan, but not before you scope potential jobs. 

You actually stayed an hour overtime at your desk looking for positions, but all of them pay lower than average or are about an hour’s commute away from where you live, so none of them seem worth it. The search ends when some people from the department come over to say goodbye and see your computer open to SaramIn, at which point they connect the dots and start to panic about their insurance. You shut your monitor off and spend another useless twenty minutes calming Jinhee, who’d started having a mild panic attack. 

In that time, your resentment builds. Why can’t Vice President Na simply get his act together? You suppose that there’s some indescribable burden to being in his position, but between him, a rich heir who owns two sports cars and lives in a paid-for house, and you, a public-transport-using, pays-by-the-month nine-to-five worker, you can’t really understand why he would be having it worse than everyone else who works under him.  If he worked even just half as hard as everyone else did here, he might scrape by. 

You can’t know if President Na’s anger was only short-lived or if he actually meant to downsize the company by getting rid of your department entirely, but you also know that if he’s serious, then there’s nothing much you can do about it, short of terrorizing the Vice President into stepping into bigger shoes.

So, that becomes your master plan.

It isn’t very refined, mostly because you think about it on the bus home, but the heart and spirit are there, and those are probably the most important things anyway. It’s that heart and spirit that motivate you to get up an hour earlier than you usually do, dressing quickly for the day before taking the company car from your place to downtown Apgujeong. You usually don’t take it on days that Vice President Na doesn’t come into work, which is practically every other day, but this time, you’re determined to see him into the office. The ride with Hyunsung, his official company driver, is quiet, save for the question he asks when you roll up to the Vice President’s driveway. 

“Are you sure about this?” 

“No,” you admit. He’d probably seen you chewing down on your thumb, some of your confidence taking a hit when you belatedly realize you could be shot with a huge privacy lawsuit if this doesn’t go the way you plan. But you do know a lot of secretaries that do the morning calls for their superiors, so this should be fine. Not that you’ve ever heard from those secretaries ever again. 

Vice President Na’s laziness seems to extend to all aspects of his life, including the fact that he doesn’t ever change his door’s passcode; it’s still the same numbers as it had been when he first bought the house a year ago and had you install his lock while he was missing in action from work, yakking it up with some farmers up in the Netherlands. He likes to do that — ‘see the world,’ or whatever, even though his wanderlust makes everyone else’s lives very difficult. At least it makes your life easy now, and you step through the door and walk quietly across his unnecessarily large living room. 

You’ve never been in here exactly, and you only realize very belatedly that this house’s design would be very frustrating for a break-and-enter criminal because nothing seems to be where it’s supposed to be. You learn the owner’s suite is actually on the basement floor, so all the climbing of those slippery stairs was for nothing. 

Vice President Na’s bedroom is bigger than your whole apartment, which also means he has a sizable bed and, thus, is completely out of sight under his gigantic covers. The only indication that he’s even still in there is that they’re rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. You stand by the edge of the bed, on the side he’s closest to falling off of, clearing your throat at the tuft of hair peeking out from under the comforter. 

“Vice President Na? It’s time to go to work.” 

Your voice has been tempered down by years of this professional work, and this is easily the loudest and most demanding you’ve ever heard it. You’re not even sure you can do it again, but the muffled groan from under the covers is all the motivation you need to try. 

“Sir, you have a ten o’clock meeting with Samsung’s representatives for Apple. President Na also asked that we contact Amazon right away to reschedule the Prime Video deal.” 

“How,” his voice comes out first before he does, squinting up at you, completely disoriented. “The hell did you get in here?” 

“Sir, I’m your secretary.” You sigh, skimming over the fact that you’d walked into his big kitchen twice through two different entryways before coming into his bedroom. “I’m supposed to be able to get in here.”

“Except this is a first.” You think he’s about to get up, but he just shifts his weight, rolling over so he can cocoon himself tighter into his blankets. “Goodnight. There are eggs in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

“I’ve already eaten, like a normal, functioning human being with a very important job that starts precisely at nine o’clock would.” 

“This seems like a very targeted comment, Secretary ____________. I’m not sure I appreciate it.” 

“Since we’re already having this conversation, I’m guessing you’re conscious enough to get dressed.”

To your relief, he actually does throw the covers off of him, leaning up on his elbows. You try not to balk at the fact that he’s shirtless, although you’re also not sure why this should surprise or bother you to begin with. He doesn’t even seem to mind; he just yawns, wide and unashamed, as he looks over at the clock. 

“It’s seven-thirty. This is insanity.”

“No, this is a wake-up call.” You offer him a neatly folded towel that he eyes suspiciously. “We need to get you in the office on time.”

“There’s really no point,” he sighs, scratching his head idly. “It’ll just be another boring day of talking to people I don’t care about. Someone who cares about it should talk to them. You care about it, don’t you?” 

“I won’t talk to them for you, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because, frankly, I don’t get paid enough to be doing that.” 

He once again stares at the towel like he’s trying to will it to evaporate, but in the end, he only sighs louder and takes it from you, kicking his blankets off completely. You look up at the ceiling, not in prayer but to avoid the more embarrassing fact that he’s only in his boxers after all. Well — it’s embarrassing for you. He doesn’t even seem to care. 

“Something’s different.”

“Usually I don’t wake you up,” you offer the painfully obvious. “Or come here. Or talk to you.”

“Yeah, all that stuff,” he says dismissively, halfway through a yawn. “Did you have a life-changing experience recently?”

“Something like that.”

“Couldn’t it have been one where you decided to leave me alone for good instead?” He grumbles, more to himself instead of to you. It doesn’t matter, anyway; you already see he’s up and fishing socks out of his drawer, so you’re marching out of his room to avoid having to hear more of his complaints (and, quite frankly, to avoid looking at his broad back). 

However, the day thereafter doesn’t go as planned. You thought that waking Vice President Na up for an early day of work might shock him into doing something with the knowledge that it was urgent, but you’re not sure why you didn’t anticipate a scenario in which he’d fall asleep in the car on the way to work and you’d have to shake him into waking in the stuffy parking lot. He spends the rest of the morning out of sorts, ignoring you point blank when you try to brief him on the meeting. The meeting in and of itself doesn’t go any better, with him excusing himself fifteen minutes in by saying the pitch doesn’t seem all too exciting and innovative. You didn’t even know he knew the word innovative and, by the shocked faces of the Samsung people, they were of the same mind. 

By lunch time, you’re more exhausted than you’ve ever been, and a part of you is wondering why you wanted Vice President Na in the office in the first place when you’re already used to the much simpler routine of get up, work, eat lunch, get yelled at, work again. Sometimes, on slow days when Vice President Na is completely out of town for the week and President Na is out of things to yell at you about, you even get to just sit back at your desk and play old crossword puzzles. 

Now, you’re basically handholding him, but the weight that keeps him down is so heavy that you’re being dragged down, too. 

“You mean people do this every single day?” He shuts the folder with a contract that requires his signature that you’d given him just now, not even bothering to peruse the first page, much to your rapidly increasing ire. “This is ridiculous. Working makes no sense.”

“All employees come to work to do that, sir. It’s literally what makes up half their lives.”

“Except it shouldn’t,” he sighs, like this is a true global issue and not a problem of his own making. “Everyone needs to be able to do what they want and live life to the fullest.” 

“Not everyone can,” you point out flatly. “Some people don’t have the luxury of time even for that.”

“Then, they should. The more I’m in this situation, the more it feels like it might be better for everyone to have a little work break for — I don’t know. The next year or so.”

Vice President Na has his arm outstretched, handing the folder back to you. You don’t know if it’s what he says that causes your blood pressure to rise, or if its the completely unconcerned look on his face, or if it’s the fact that he’s holding the folder so lazily that the papers are starting to slip out on your end, requiring you to use two hands to keep them all from falling apart and creating a mess you’ll end up having to clean up anyway. Whatever it is, you snatch the folder from him with a little more aggression than necessary (or that you’d even care to admit). Even though it’s out of place, you can’t help but feel a small sense of triumph at the slight surprise in his eyes. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, sir.” You pause, mostly because you can tell he doesn’t believe you — Vice President Na is nonchalant, not stupid — and you want to give yourself a little bit of time to grapple with your pride before you admit the truth. “Yes, sir. It isn’t fair to your entire department for you to talk that way.”

“I’m saying the entire department doesn’t have to work this hard. It’s senseless. How are you supposed to live a good life if all you’re doing is sitting behind a desk?”

“Like I said, not everyone has the luxury of living your life. If they want even a little bit of that comfort you enjoy, they have to work very hard for it first.” 

“Then they should at least do something they enjoy. If this department goes down the drain —”

“If this department is abolished,” this is your first time interrupting a superior, and it already makes you want to throw up. “Then people will have a very difficult time finding a job in this market. More than that, a lot of people enjoy working for this company — quite genuinely, in fact. I don’t think it’s right to think that they’ll be happy while they’re jobless and floundering in this economy.”

“So you’re happy like this? You really want this job — this whole working under me situation?” 

“Well…” you trail off, your voice taking on a slightly thoughtful tone. It’s been a relatively long time since you’d entered this job, but you do faintly remember the feeling of excitement at getting this position — the desire to want to learn from the best in this industry, the anticipation of being able to meet and network with interesting and important people. Your first few weeks of work had involved wanting to spend as much time in Vice President Na’s shadow, in case you could pick up some important business tidbits from an entrepreneurial master… until, of course, you realized there wasn’t much you could stand in the shadow of to begin with. “These days, it isn’t ideal. But this job is a really good thing for most of the people who work here.”

“Then it sounds like you have more to gain from me working hard than I do.” 

You can’t contain your disapproving frown, and your voice comes out a little sharper than you intend. “Doesn’t it bother you at all, sir? Knowing almost twenty people could lose their jobs in the blink of an eye? Think about all the people who look up to you and rely on you — they’ll have to suffer because of this. They might never find a job that matches their needs, and a lot of them have families to take care of, too. If you can do something to make sure they have these good lives you keep talking about, why not do it? I know you’re capable of that. You’re capable of doing much more than what you’ve been doing thus far.” 

Vice President Na is quiet for a moment before leans over on his desk, lacing his fingers into a loose combined fist and putting his weight on his forearms. One of his forefingers detangles itself from the pile of digits and curls inwards, beckoning you closer. Your grimace is probably obvious, and you lean in a little warily. He lifts himself off his chair slightly so he can whisper in a low voice, as if you two aren’t the only people in this wide office. 

“If you care about it so much, then ask a little more nicely.” 

Your light breakfast almost makes a reappearance, and you draw back in mild shock. He also leans back, significantly more relaxed than you, looking unperturbed as he settles back against his chair. You two engage in a very uneven staring match, until he gestures for you to proceed, looking expectant. 

“You want me to beg for my job?”

“Not what I meant, but I could accept that,” he hums. “I just think you could throw in a please while you’re guilting your boss, at least.”

Gawking probably doesn’t suit you, but you do it anyway, wondering how you managed to find yourself in this position. This morning, you had been strictly guiding him through what to do, and now you’re paralyzed in front of the Vice President, feeling very foolish for saying so much out of turn. You couldn’t even get through a whole work day before seeing your grand master plan slip down the drain.

But there is, at least, some small comfort in what he said — the part about guilting, which, if you squint hard enough, seems to be implying that this conversation has left him with a small amount of guilt. You don’t think it’s that much, but it’s a miracle he feels it at all, so you take the horribly subtle win and inhale deeply.

“Please, sir.” The words are very thick and reluctant, unsticking from your throat. “This department really needs you.” 

He stares, very unnervingly, without saying anything, but there’s something in his gaze that makes you vaguely certain he’s actually thinking about it. In fact, he actually looks a bit serious, which isn’t anything you’d ever think you’d be able to characterize him by. That impression easily falls apart when he claps his hands, once but very loudly, startling you into jumping a little. 

“Ah, how could I turn down such a nice request?” Vice President Na is grinning from ear to ear, something you’ve never seen him do in the context of the office, much less a few feet away from you. His smile is actually kind of nice, if you don’t think about the fact that it seems to be smug at your expense. “Since you asked, I guess I’ll have to try my best, or whatever it is people do in this damn company. I guess that means you owe me now, Secretary ____________. You’re very welcome.” 

The silence that once again blooms as you stand, motionless, in front of Vice President Na is suddenly interrupted by the sound of chairs scraping back all at once. The floor vibrates a little as the entire department troops out to the elevator area so they can go to lunch. You only watch stupidly as he also stands, shrugging off his jacket and flinging it over the back of his chair. “See you, then.”

“Where are you going, sir?” 

He looks a little surprised that you even ask. “To lunch. Do I have to ask for your permission for that, too?” 

“Are you… coming back?”

“You want to come along with me and make sure I don’t run away?” He smiles even wider, which you didn’t even think was possible. It makes you awkwardly uncomfortable to know he’s taking a lot of pleasure in joking around with you, mostly because you were kind of hoping you’d get him to take things seriously in a serious manner, not in a … whatever this is that’s making you feel like you’ve lost a game manner. 

“A little bit.”

“Ask a little more nicely, then.” 

“Never mind,” you mumble. “Have a good lunch, sir.” 

He snaps his fingers a little comically before turning to the door, flinging it open so he can join the now thinning throng of people leaving the floor. “Thought I almost had you there. Well, if you need me, you know where to find me. Or not.” 

In the end, to your utmost relief, Vice President Na does, in fact, stay inside the entire time he has lunch. You’re not sure if this is the product of you sitting two tables away, trying to will an imaginary chain to his wrist so he doesn’t bolt off or because he’s still feeling a little affected by everything you said earlier on, but whatever it is, it works. He just eats his club sandwich in peace, picking off the crust easily and double dipping the fries that come with it in his ketchup. At some point, he looks up and notices you burning holes into his torso, so you quickly have to avert your eyes in shame. You think he laughs at this, but you can only see out of your peripheral vision at this point, so you can’t be sure. 

You’re supposed to have one hour for lunch, but he eats quickly and gets up before the whole hour is over, so you end up throwing your half-eaten wrap and following him. Again, you’re not sure what’s funny, but he’s chuckling to himself as he holds the elevator door open, waiting for you to run in next to him. 

“Relax, miss secretary. I already said I was going to do my best.”

“No offense, sir, but I don’t know what that looks like, so I have to be careful.”

“Fair enough.” He hums, letting the door close on its own. “But you should still take it easy. You’re pretty t—”

“Tense. You said so yesterday, sir.”

“That’s two times you’ve cut me off in a single day.” He doesn’t sound very annoyed about it; in fact, he’s still got that amused, inside joke tone to everything he’s had all morning. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were gunning for an insubordination report.”

You don’t think that’s fair for him to say, especially since you haven’t really had much of an authority figure to be subordinate to for most of your career in this company, but you keep your mouth shut since saying so is exactly what would be on the first line of an insubordination report. 

When you arrive back at his office, you take the time to discuss what you should be doing from now on. It’s an extremely messy exchange, with you two grappling between terms you can’t agree on. For instance, Vice President Na thinks that it seems only fair that he should really only be coming in after one o’clock, but you’re insistent on making sure he gets to work on time, since most important meetings happen within that time period (a fact he already seems to know but chooses to ignore anyway). You end up agreeing on bringing him in for the standard nine-to-six for as long as he never has to work overtime. You also find it necessary to iron out the fact that if he has lunch outside, he has to actually come back, a statement he once again finds very amusing for some reason, as if you’re the weird one in this conversation. 

And to his credit, he tries to stick to his word. It isn’t exactly a walk in the park, especially not during the first couple of weeks, but you suppose that habits are very difficult to break when they’ve been so easy to acquire and nurture over many years. More than once, you’ve arrived late to meetings to the disapproving gazes of Head Secretary Son and President Na. However, the latter finds he has less to say these days because Vice President Na’s presence in said meetings had, before this time, been nothing but a pipe dream for everyone. 

You also notice he starts taking the time to ask about things he doesn’t understand, as opposed to his initially brash or sometimes completely unresponsive approach, which has turned out better results when it comes to business lunches with investors and potential partners. Even the Samsung people, who are extremely wary of him during the callback meeting, come out of their next encounter with the Vice President looking vaguely more satisfied than they did the last time (the bar isn’t that high, considering they’d left shell-shocked previously, but you’ll still take the improvement).

Of course, with all the time you end up spending with, chasing after, and vaguely lecturing (only when the need truly arises) Vice President Na, you also learn some things about him that you hadn’t expected, like how he doesn’t really like milk in anything he drinks (but especially coffee) and that every third Sunday of the month, he meets his old high school friend Lee Jeno, the son of the guy that owns half the residential high rise condominiums on this side of the Han. Apparently, they play badminton together — he had told you that when he’d caught you wondering about the super out of place little kid’s karate trophy among other more adult, official ones in his living area. The trophy goes to whoever wins the match of the month, and according to the Vice President, he’s been ‘wiping the floor with that bastard’s handsome face for half a year straight.’ Although you can’t verify this by anything more than the slight blanket of dust on it, you think it takes nothing out of your pride to applaud him like this is an amazing thing. It also does you no harm to see him swell with misplaced pride about a kid’s karate trophy. 

You also notice that despite how healthily he eats at the office, he has a bad habit of craving deep fried food in the afternoon, which is why, over the last few weeks, you’ve been accompanying him to the corndog street stall two blocks away, a few days a week. He’s even had to borrow loose change from you a few times to because he always forgets that no street vendor likes to receive crisp, fresh-out-of-the-bank fifty-thousand won bills, but you just let him have it; his heart’s in the right place when he orders an extra one for you without even asking. You realize that he has a fairly good memory for as long as he’s concentrating, and that he likes to spend late nights watching the shittiest horror movies ever known to man (his words, much to your bemusement), and that when he listens attentively to you telling him about the day’s agenda, his left ear twitches a little when your voice hits it. 

Somewhere along the way, you realize that Vice President Na is a charming, outgoing, and fairly capable person, and in doing so, you also realize that he seems to be, for lack of a better word, your style. 

You can’t really believe it either, and you’re not even sure when it started. In between sitting with him in the company car and handing him forty-page agreements he has to look over carefully (very carefully, as you’ve taken to reminding him, so often that he starts saying it before you do now, which has only somehow endeared him further to you and not annoyed you the way you were sort of hoping it would), the small non-work related part of your consciousness had decided that it needed a more complicated situation now that things were going relatively well.

To be fair to yourself, liking him isn’t a huge distraction; most of the time, you’re both so engrossed in something you desperately have to finish that you don’t even have time to think about it. Instead, it kind of catches you off-guard, like when he’s double dipping his french fries into his ketchup, or when he smiles at you (politely to him, probably, but overwhelmingly charmingly to you) before he leaves the office, or when his brow’s furrowed in (a total shocker) concentration as he reads. 

Then again, everything about Vice President Na seems to be catching you off-guard these days. This much is proven by the fact that instead of the normal silence that you’ve grown accustomed to being greeted by when you enter his house, there’s a lot of noise coming from one area that can only mean either that someone had broken in to mug him or for some reason, he’s up before you need to wake him. 

It’s nothing you have to call 911 for, but it still paralyzes you to see him, surrounded by opened jars and a particularly dirty bread knife as he stands in front of his fancy toaster, drumming his fingers on the counter impatiently. 

“If you have a minute to spare, could you bring my laptop into the car?” He asks without turning around. His hand, still holding the bread knife, points towards the bar counter on the far end of the kitchen, where the laptop is still whirring away. 

“Of course, sir. Um,” you gingerly shut the monitor, putting the laptop to sleep and tucking it under your arm. “Were you… working this morning?”

“No, I was playing a riveting game of bridge against the computer AI.” He turns to you, grinning. “Of course I was working, miss secretary. What do you think I’d be up this early for?” 

You try to think of an answer, but nothing comes to mind — Vice President Na hasn’t ever woken up early for anything to your knowledge, anyway — so you just nod and bolt, unwilling to bear witness to his smile this early in the day. When you come back, particularly less red in the face, you find him topping one of two sandwiches with the last slice of bread to complete it. He takes one, as you expect he would, and you stand there, trying to look polite as you essentially observe him eat.

This isn’t something very unusual; ever since the first time you’d done it, you’ve been watching him out of habit. So far, only the motivation’s changed from you wanting to make sure he doesn’t bolt to you simply enjoying the view of his profile when he eats. Of course, he probably doesn’t know this, but he’s also just gotten used to you watching him and probably finds it funny — as suggested by his perpetually amused expression — that you still think, after all this time, that he’s going to make a run for it. You don’t actually mind it; you get to watch him for free, and he has something to laugh about, so everyone kind of wins. 

He’s halfway through the sandwich when his expression turns quizzical. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Eat,” you echo hollowly. “Eat what, sir?”

“A delicious, handmade, gourmet peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich.” When you don’t move, he pushes the plate with the untouched sandwich forward towards you like he thinks you can’t understand anything he’s saying. “What? Are you allergic to something?”

“No, but…”

“But?”

There’s no but; you don’t have a good reason to decline other than the fact that accepting it feels weird, but refusing him when he’s looking at you this expectantly is just as awkward. You rub the back of your neck as you walk over, not missing the look of triumph that crosses his face as you pick up the sandwich and take a bite. It’s good, but you don’t really think that has anything to do with his culinary skills, based on what it is; still, he looks like he’s patting himself on the back for this feat. 

“Thank you, sir.”

“Secretary ____________, I hope you can count this as a momentous occasion for the both of us.” He chuckles. “You get free breakfast made especially for you by your direct superior in the comfort of his own home, and I finally get to learn what all the settings on my toaster are for. Between you and me, I think mine’s the better achievement.” 

You’re still in the middle of eating when you laugh, and you hastily raise a hand to cover it — only Vice President Na catches your wrist halfway through, so quickly you vaguely choke on the bread that’s only partially down your throat.

“I’ve never seen you laugh,” he looks as surprised as you feel, although probably for a different reason. “I don’t even think you’ve ever smiled at me, specifically.”

“Oh.” You need time to respond, mostly so you can swallow but also because you need to collect yourself from your shock. There seems to be a lot of that going around this morning. “Sorry. Should I do that more often?”

“I mean, if you ask like that, it’s kind of disingenuous,” he laughs. “But I like it. I like knowing you’re not just in a constant state of stress because of me. Feels even more momentous than the toaster thing.” 

He loosens his hold, and you manage to take your hand back, now refusing to meet his eye. “I’m not… stressed by you.”

“Not anymore.”

“Not anymore,” you agree, and he looks particularly delighted when he sees the corners of your lips turn up again. “Not for a while. And not that my opinion matters, but you’ve been performing above expectations, sir.”

“You’re right,” he hums, taking the plate and putting it in the sink — a problem he seems to be saving for later. “It doesn't matter. But I like it, all the same.”

You’re willing to chalk the morning off as a wonderful anomaly, especially since the rest of it passes as it normally does, with a generally quiet car ride (you’ve also learned that Vice President Na likes to listen to rap music on days when he wants to avoid falling asleep in the backseat, which is equal parts amazing and amusing) and a fifteen minute briefing of what he has on his plate today. He disappears for the better part of the morning and even the whole lunch hour, but you expect this because he has a business lunch with the representatives for some Norwegian appliance company that’s looking to break into the Korean market. You can’t imagine many people want a state of the art rice cooker alongside their monthly internet bill, but it’s polite for him to go anyway, and the prospective partner seems very on edge about company secrets. It’s one of those meetings you aren’t allowed to come along to, which means that you’re missing out on a few hours of Vice President Na trying to iron details out with a couple of old guys. 

While you eat, you’re once again struck with the random notion that it feels weird not to be around the Vice President. You’ve been working together regularly and in a very close capacity, which basically means that you’re always in his shadow. It’s the life you were kind of hoping to have at the beginning and were deprived of for a good two years. Now that you have it, it feels weirdly natural — so natural that it’s unnatural to not have his voice ordering you around in that easy tone or his aftershave lingering in the air directly above you. 

You throw the tissue you used to wipe the oil from your egg toast off your mouth onto the table, crumpled and wilted. 

You miss him, which is ridiculous considering you don’t even know what there is to miss. Your relationship, while admittedly lightyears ahead of the starting point it had been at back then (again, not a great standard, considering you didn’t even have a relationship before this period of time), is nothing close to the point of being what it should be for one to miss the other. 

And yet, you look forward to seeing him, watching him do something from afar, helping him whenever he needs you. You like the fact that he still sometimes fakes left when you’re accompanying him back to his office, and you do this thing where you pretend to be annoyed even though it makes you happy to know he won’t go anywhere. You like the little sounds he makes when he eats his super unhealthy corndog as if he’s eating it for the first time every single time (see: very unnerving and slightly disturbing but altogether amusing mmmmmmmmmms). In fact, if you didn’t have a vivid memory of telling him off from way back then, you feel like you could easily convince yourself that things had always been like this — that you two had always been together, happily at work. 

You’re not surprised that he isn’t back from his meeting even when you get back to your desk after lunch, but you do feel a pang of dejectedness that lasts for a few more hours — time which you spend lazily looking over a contract he’d signed yesterday that needs a fair amount of amending and re-signing. It’s hard to pretend to care today, for some reason, especially since your mind keeps going back to peanut butter sandwiches and some ridiculous vision of Vice President Na standing in the middle of your tiny studio apartment’s kitchen area. 

Your reverie’s broken when an envelope falls onto your desk, covering the page of the contract you’d been glassily staring at for the last hour and a half. You’d drawn the same circle about twenty times already, and the paper’s all dented from your efforts. When you look up, Vice President Na is staring down at you, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Miss me?” He drums the envelope, the paper muffling the noise of it all. “Oh? I was joking, but it looks like you actually did. That’s twice in a single day, Secretary ____________. You’re setting a very high record.”

You try to tamp down the smile on your face upon seeing him, clearing your throat so that you have an excuse to press your lips together. You guess it doesn’t work because he just keeps smiling, anyway, or maybe he’s just in a really good mood. “Did your meeting go well, sir?” 

“Is Lotteria the national fastfood chain? Too bad I don’t work for anyone because it kind of feels like I deserve some kind of reward.”

“Could we say that this partnership is its own reward?” 

“It doesn’t have the same ring to it,” he sighs. Once again, his forefinger taps the envelope, calling your attention a little more clearly to it. “I know we’re on a tight schedule for this, and I hate to ask this so late of you, but —”

“Of course, sir; I’ll have it in your hands first thing tomorrow.” 

You’re already gathering it up along with your other (vaguely unfinished) paperwork when his whole palm comes down, trapping the envelope and everything else you’d been intending to carry under it. Your hands go up like you’re being held at gunpoint, your eyes wide. 

“On second thought,” Vice President Na muses, a little too serene for someone who’d just scared the living daylights out of someone else. “How about I take care of the Samsung deal you’re looking over, and you can handle the Norwegian contract?”

“I haven’t… really made a lot of headway with it, if I’m being honest.” You’re hoping he doesn’t ask you why because you’re too embarrassed to come up with a lie on the spot and will inevitably have to confess your random attraction to him under these terrible circumstances if he does. Luckily, he just shrugs.

“All the more reason to split the work, then.”

The still mildly stern part of you is begging to point out that he’s giving you a whole new set of documents to look over anyway, so it’s not even like you’ll have less to do, but the larger, more endeared part of you tells it to shut up and mind its own business. “I thought the crux of our agreement was that you’d never have to work overtime.”

“Because I look like such a stickler for the rules, don’t I?” He snorts, waving you in with the same envelope, and you concede.

Working next to Vice President Na isn’t anything new to you; you’ve been doing it everyday for a while now, especially if he needs you to be quick on call. Ever since you’ve realized his presence makes your heart beat a little faster, you’ve promised yourself not to let that fact show at all when he’s around, something you’ve been quite careful about perfecting. 

Something’s different, though, when it’s after official hours. Maybe it’s because the floor is quieter than it is during the day, so there’s nothing you can listen to but the sound of pen scratching on paper and Vice President Na’s steady breathing. The only real interruption is when Hyunsung knocks on the door to ask if the Vice President is going home; the look on his face is panicked and confused, like a puppy that’s just been dropped off at the mouth of a dumpster site, when he’s told that Vice President Na will drive himself home, so he can just leave the keys. 

Maybe it’s also because it’s pretty dark outside, and while you’ve worked into the night a few times, it’s usually alone or with some other poor sap that has even more backlog than you do — it’s never been just you and the Vice President, who seems supremely unperturbed by the fact that he isn’t at home doing… whatever he does at home after work. You can only guess at it (or wish you knew). 

That makes one of you that’s keeping busy, although you know it should be two. The fact that you’re distracted by his presence all of a sudden is only exacerbated by the mutually exclusive headache that the paperwork you’re looking over gives you. You don’t know why you had expected it to be in Korean, but you and your intermediate level English struggle to keep up with all the little things you have to look through. Sometimes, you can’t tell if the clauses are actually confusing or if you’re just the poor product of your middle school education. It strikes you more than once that Vice President Na had gone through this, somehow, himself — talked to people in a completely different language, probably with ease. You can at least be proud of yourself for being right: for as long as the Vice President puts his mind to something, he’s able to do it — perhaps even well. 

What shocks you after an eternity of silence is the hand that extends towards you, forefinger lightly nudging your chin. You sit up straight like a bolt of lighting had gone through you, meeting Vice President Na’s thoroughly and inexplicably amused expression. Your jaw slackens in shock, but his finger just stays there, like it isn’t invading your personal space. Like it just belongs there.

“What are you doing?”

“What—” you splutter, bemused at the fact that you hadn’t asked the question first. “What are you doing?”

“You keep moving your mouth. What — are you praying or something?”

“No, I —-” You gesture at the contract page you’ve been trying to stumble through for the past twenty minutes. “No, I’m just… I’m reading?”

“You’re…” The start of a laugh escapes him, and you really don’t know what’s so funny. “You’re reading aloud?”

“I wasn’t making any noise, I think,” you grumble, sounding a little more defensive than you’d care to admit. 

“You read silently aloud, then.” His eyes twinkle at this information, although why it should elicit this reaction also completely escapes you. “Why? Because it helps you memorize it or something?”

“My English isn’t that great,” you admit begrudgingly, suddenly feeling a little exposed. “Sometimes I need to mouth the words to understand it.”

And he does the most outrageous, inexplicable thing: he gently cups your chin, making sure you can’t turn your head to look away in embarrassment. Now you have to look at him, red in the face and close to exploding. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little too much, miss secretary?”

You can’t ask what; your voice isn’t working. You just open and close your mouth around the syllable, and after a couple of attempts, he starts copying you, evidently having a better time than you are based on the grin stretched across his face.

“What? What? That you’re doing something this cute in front of me is what I mean. You’re obviously going overboard, and I don’t think it’s very nice.”

He retracts his hand as quickly as he’d used it to close the distance between you, and your hand immediately comes up in its place, almost cupping your jaw like he did. It definitely doesn’t give you the same tingly feeling, so that’s an obvious bust.

You and Vice President Na have a sudden staring contest with amended rules: you blink a hundred times a minute at him while he laughs quietly, leaning back on his chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It confuses you and kind of enrages you, but you also find your heart thumping away in your ears like it’s trying very hard to remind you that Na Jaemin makes you feel alive. 

“I— I just—”

“Coffee? I could use some coffee. You look like you could use some too.” He stands, buttoning his blazer with one hand like he has someplace important to go. You’re still so shell-shocked that you don’t even try to stand up to help him, a fact which he notices very clearly. “Oh no, I’ll do you this favor. You sit tight and read your contract. I’ll be back. Keep doing that cute thing with your mouth.” 

Vice President Na finds you exactly as he left you: still wondering if you should be offended at his teasing or enamored by his touch and, more importantly, what the hell his deal is. You have a million questions that need answering, but the only thing you blubber out when he comes back is “Why?” 

“Because you’re amazingly fun to tease,” he responds simply. “And because it’s true. I find it extremely cute. I find you very cute, Secretary _____________, in a kind of good girl, cool girl kind of way. It’s a little confusing to me too, but I think this slightly stern but overall gentle aesthetic of yours is actually growing on me a little.”

“Sir, I—”

“While we’re taking a break,” he interrupts you. You guess it’s probably the right time for a break considering there’s no way you can work in peace now. “Do you constantly have to call me that?” 

“What else would I call you?”

“My name,” he suggests, taking a sip of coffee. You ignore the shit, that’s hot that comes out of him as he puts the paper cup down gingerly on his desk, looking a little bit betrayed by his drink. “Jaemin. Many people call me that.”

“People who are close to you, you mean. Like your family or… your friends.”

“Are you saying you don’t think we’re close? Or that we aren’t friends?”

“Sir, I work for you.” 

“So by that alone, we simply can’t be friends? Et al?I think you really are being too much now, Secretary ____________.” He folds his arms across his chest, tutting disapprovingly as he leans back on the edge of his desk. You try not to think too hard about the fact that he does it very close to you, at an angle optimal for viewing the leanness of his form. “After all those times you broke into my house—”

“To get you ready for work.”

“— walked into my bedroom—”

“Only whenever necessary—”

“— gone through my things while I’m half naked in bed like you’re trying to organize a charity drive—”

“Because you need to get dressed, not because I have some perverted agenda —”

“—eaten the food off my kitchen counter, too—”

“You told me to!” You get to your feet, the contract slipping from your lap in your enthusiasm to defend yourself. “You offered it to me!”

Whatever happens next is completely out of your control, and you know this because the room spins without you moving by your own will. Vice President Na must have been an expert dancer in his past life, or something, because after that one dizzying moment, you find yourself leaning against the edge of the table he had been just a second ago. Warm hands are on your waist, tucked under your cardigan, the heat bleeding through your shirt. 

And the Vice President’s smile is inches away from your face, still mischievous but much gentler than any other time before. 

You’re not sure if you’re paralyzed or if you just don’t want to move, but the reason doesn’t affect the outcome: all you can do is stare up at him, once again dumbfounded after a small outpouring of words that ends in some kind of forced defeat. Except this particular surrender doesn’t feel so sore, for some reason. 

“Even when you’re angry, you’re still pretty, you know that?”

“I wasn’t… angry,” you mumble under your breath, afraid that talking louder will scare him off. You don’t even think he’s listening all that much to you, considering that all he does is tuck your hair behind your left ear and completely change the topic. 

“So, tell me, Secretary ____________. Is this still a situation where we’re not close at all?” He pauses for a moment, probably to let you answer, but you don’t say anything. You’re pretty sure your swallowing nervously is the only true sound you make. He seems to be eager to do a lot of the talking anyway, which is absolutely fine by you. “Or have I completely misread all your cute little signals?”

“Well — no, but I didn’t send any signals.” Obvious ones, at least. You’d been pretty sure you had tried to keep it under wraps as much as possible, but you’re starting to realize it’s a little possible you’re not as great at pretending as you think you are. 

“Not on purpose, probably. Although you really almost got me with the one-man show vibe you have during lunch hour.”

“I… didn’t think you knew, if I’m being honest.” Honesty is the only thing you have right now, anyway, especially since Vice President Na has pretty much confirmed, in his own way, that he knows about how you feel. Now you can only wonder if he’d noticed before you even came to terms with it yourself, and the thought of that being a real possibility urges you to grab the still-steaming cup of coffee and douse yourself with its contents. 

“For a while, I was pretty sure you were messing with me. I would never,” he adds just as you say it too, mimicking your astounded tone up to the lilt. “Which is why I started thinking about why else you might be looking at me so intently. You weren’t sitting there objectifying me, were you, miss secretary?”

“Sir, I would never,” you repeat, and he mouths the same words again in his amusement, although silently this time. 

“I think I would have been okay with it if you were. Or would be, even until now. For the record.” 

“I wasn’t.” 

“You sure? No shame in it. Totally fine. Not sure about anyone else, but I’m totally okay if someone else thinks I’m eye candy in the privacy of their own minds. I am, I think, a fine specimen of a human, if I do say so myself.”

“I really wasn’t, sir.”

“You should have, then. Lost opportunities.”” 

“I could argue that I was just worried you’d leave and not come back.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you,” he hums. “Not anymore, anyway.” 

The ‘to you’ is what stumps you into another silent spell, but this time, Vice President Na doesn’t attempt to fill in the void. He just starts running his eyes over your face, like he’s trying to read something there or maybe memorize your features, or something. At some point, you start thinking about how this kind of silence isn’t exactly uncomfortable, contrary to your expectations and with interesting consideration of the fact that he’s still holding your hips. Apart from the idle skimming of his thumb over the curve of your pelvic bone, he doesn’t move — nearer or closer, which is probably for the best since you don’t know which one you really want more at this point.

Again, when you gather some part of your wits, the only thing you still know how to ask is “Why?”

“Because,” he replies immediately, simply, like the answer has always been very clear and you’ve just been too ignorant to figure it out. “You said that I could, not that I had to.” 

It’s hot. Isn’t it hot? You don’t know what he’s talking about, but your body already reacts on principle, and you have to stand-half-lean there with your entire face burning and Vice President Na’s body heat washing over yours like an electric blanket.

“I don’t know what that means, sir.”

“It means I didn’t do this for my dad or just because you told me off in the comfort of my own office.” He bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing (yet again) at you as he witnesses, from the best seat in the house, your face turning almost purple with the effort of keeping down your embarrassment. “Although that played a bit of a factor in it. I couldn’t tell if it was rude of you to say so much or kind of cute that you did despite knowing you were being rude. But that’s besides the point.”

Good, you think. If he manages to hit you with another cute in this timeframe, you may easily cease to exist. 

“You know firsthand, anyway, what my dad always says. You must take on the responsibility you were born with. You have to do your job. You must remember that you owe your life to my achievements.” He mimics his father’s gruff, booming voice amusingly well, to the point that you can’t stop yourself from laughing. His facade breaks easily, and you think you hear him mumble cute under his breath again, although you choose to ignore it so your knees don’t buckle completely (something that you think would be very embarrassing with you so close to him). “I don’t think he’s ever once said an encouraging word to my face. And if there’s anything I can confidently say I won’t do, it’s doing what people only say I need to do. It’s my life, you know what I mean? I’ll do what I want.” 

“You’re saying you suddenly wanted to work because I said you could?” 

“More like I wanted to see if you were right.” He muses. “I was pretty sure I didn’t have the personality for it. Or the attention span. Or the skill, either.”

“I think a couple of those things are still up in the air, sir.”

“One compliment and you’re already gunning for another insubordination report.” Vice President Na’s voice is a low, casual hum, but you notice the grip around your waist tightens for a brief moment. “At first, I figured I’d just show up to get everyone off my back, but I realized along the way that I’m pretty good at this being at the helm business. I’m sure you’ll agree. Hopefully because you want to, not because you also have to.”

“I do agree.” Your reply is wholehearted, and the Vice President’s smile widens. Your chest swells so much that you think you might explode right in front of him. “Because I want to.”

“Please don’t misunderstand me, miss secretary. I’m not attributing all my successes to your impulsive words.” He teases, although his eyes stay gentle despite his tone. “The efforts were still all mine. However, I’m not too proud to admit I had a very responsible first mate by my side, for whom I am very grateful. Although I hope this doesn’t mean she’ll pluck up the courage to ask for a raise considering how well I pay her. I think. Does she get paid well? Maybe I should ask Park Jinhee from accounting.” 

“She won’t,” you laugh softly, not missing the fact that he’s finally learned her name. “And she’s not really doing this for the salary, even if it is a nice bonus.” 

“What’s she doing it for, then?” 

As a job, this was really mostly about yourself — or it was, in the beginning. You’d terrorized Vice President Na to some degree because of the innate tendency towards self-preservation, and when that felt a little one-sided, you also considered everyone who might lose their jobs if the department got cut. It had been, for the most part, an act of pure desperation, so strong that you were willing to point fingers and raise your voice (only a few decibels, because you’re not a crazy person) at your boss. Now… that wasn’t really part of the equation. Maybe you had gotten used to the fact that the Vice President wouldn’t be going anywhere, so you’d stopped worrying about your and everyone else’s jobs, which all seem to be on a smooth path alongside the captain of the ship.

But if you had to be honest to yourself, part of the reason you’d grown a bit complacent about thinking about the fate of the department also had to do with the fact that you genuinely enjoyed being next to the Vice President. Mornings spent helping him prepare for work were regular highlights in your week, and the looks of approval you received from him every time you helped him finish a particularly difficult task were second to none. Always being close to him, always being the first and last to see him in the day, simply being able to look at him -– silly as that all sounds, they now play an undeniable factor in your desire to wake up and go to the office every single day. 

“I did it for you.” You answer, and because the answer’s honest, it feels completely natural to say. A pause slowly lengthens between you two, though not nearly as tense or borderline uncomfortable as you thought it might be this time around. A slow smile stretches over the Vice President’s face, but his words don’t easily take the straightforward route this time, either.

“Should I take up with the human resources department the fact that you’re outright breaching the terms of our contractual workplace relationship? How am I?” He speaks over, with you again, your voices overlapping. You can’t help it — you laugh at the absurdity of how well he’s come to know your responses, from the word choice to the lilt in your voice that signals some level of affront. When, exactly, did Vice President Na start committing the things you said and did into memory? “You’re seducing me, miss secretary. Before you say you’re not — you are. You are, without even knowing it. You’re winning me over, telling me all these sweet nothings to tickle my heart — I believe in you, Jaemin. I love working with you, Jaemin. I did it all for you, Jaemin, because you’re obviously the best in the whole world, ho ho ho.”

“I never said it like that.” 

“You might as well have.” 

“Should I stop believing in you so that we can avoid a scene, then, or is the damage to your good standing too far gone?”

“Rather than stopping something already in full motion, I think it might be better to make certain amendments to our current agreement.” Vice President Na reaches for the pen tucked into his breast pocket — the gold clip catches the fluorescent light and momentarily blinds you as he brings it up between you. He brings it to one side, then to another, and your eyes follow it, amused but also admittedly a bit hypnotized.

“What kind of trance are you putting me under, sir?”

“The kind that gets you to stop calling me that,” he chuckles. “Among other, more important things on my agenda.” 

You have an excellent view of Vice President Na’s stellar smile from the back of the meeting room. 

The deal he closes three days later goes even better than expected; not only does he bring Amazon into the fold after weeks of (surprisingly consistent) hard work and no small amount of beguiling charm (owing to the fact that he’d offended said Amazon representatives earlier on in his still relatively short-lived career), but he also manages to snag Samsung Electronics’ participation. As an already existing subscriber to the company-provided phone plan, you’re pleased to find out that you’re entitled to twelve guilt-free months of Prime Video as part of a new promotional deal, which you can now enjoy on nights you aren’t working overtime — something you’ve racked up more of as you’ve found yourself striking more of a work-life balance, thanks in large part to the Vice President’s steadily active involvement in all things on the ‘work’ aspect of the scale. Your first goal is to finally get past the first episode of an animation everyone in the department is raving about (but that you haven’t seen more than five minutes of, in actuality, because the horrible subtitles and sluggish 144px stop motion-esque have, until recently, adamantly deterred you from enjoying anything about the story).

Standing a fair distance away from the executives, you wait for the flurry of handshakes and accompanying congratulatory statements to die down; it takes quite a while, considering the sheer volume of people, and the thickest throng has come to gather around Vice President Na. At one point, all you can see of him is the slightly unruly lick of hair that’s sticking out above the rest of the considerable crowd of balding men around him (the sole crow’s feather a mountain range of gray). All their voices overlap, and you’re only able to catch key phrases — brilliant young mind… knack for business! … just like the President… bright future ahead, you know? 

Fifteen minutes of conversation and bellowing guffaws pass before Vice President Na emerges, adjusting the front of his blazer as a result of too much handshaking. Behind him, still speaking to one of the  marketing executives, is President Na, who shoots his son a surreptitious look you’ve never seen him wear in your considerable number of years in the company’s employ  — one of triumph and pride. The Vice President, however, is intently loosening his tie and scanning the room, stretching himself just a fraction taller above everyone else to get a better view throughout. 

You wait, wondering if he’s looking to speak to someone, lost in that host of black and gray suits — the Amazon media director, perhaps, or the in-house designer that also seems to be trying to catch his eye, for some reason (you sense the needy greed for a sudden promotion that seems highly unlikely in such a setting), but even though his vision passes over them, however briefly, Vice President Na doesn’t seem satisfied.

That is, until his eyes land on the corner of the room you and Secretary Son have backed yourselves into to allow the higher-ups room to mingle. 

One beat later, and the corners of his mouth are pulled up — a soft, knowing smile directed in your general direction. You glance at Secretary Son, maybe out of instinct, maybe somehow out of panic — as though you worry she’ll somehow come to chastise you, but she’s too busy trying to re-buckle her thin coat belt with rapid-fire tsks. She seems acceptably preoccupied, so your eyes flit back to the Vice President, whose eyebrows are now slightly raised, the telltale signs of a growing grin now playing on his lips as the front of his teeth begin to peek out from the seam. Another cock of his eyebrows, lifting them higher, tells you he’s waiting for some kind of message — an indication that you see him too, maybe, or… perhaps, oddly, any sign that you’re as proud of him as everyone else in the room is. 

You can’t help it  — you laugh, louder than you’d have originally liked to, a hand coming up over your mouth as Secretary Son’s head snaps up from her waist, bamboozled at your quick but sudden outburst. She throws you a look that suggests she firmly believes your mind has snapped, quite like a stale breadstick in a derelict Italian restaurant, but it’s worth it; Vice President Na looks satisfied at this — though, why he would be, you haven’t a true clue. 

As the managers and members of the board file out of the room, both you and Secretary Son inch closer to your respective direct superiors; you both stand a few steps away as the last of the executives drag their feet, still hoping to share one last handshake with either of the two, until an elderly Mrs. Kwon’s surprisingly firm grip is finally shaken off by a sheepish President Na. He turns to his son, who’s still hosting the remnants of a genial smile on his lips, clearly poised to say something. For some reason, you expect the senior to berate the former, simply out of sheer habit, but he does nothing of the sort. 

“Jaemin-ah,” his voice is gruff but not at all begrudging; it’s a low rumble of triumph. “Who’d’ve thought? My boy… you brat…”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental now, dad,” the Vice President teases, to which the President chortles heartily. 

“Old men like me have the right, much more than anyone else.” You’ve never seen the President wear an expression even remotely close to softness, but you see it in his gaze now; it strikes you, then, that although you’ve always known the two to be related, this is the first time you can confidently say they resemble each other to the cores of their being — a view of happiness, somewhat mirrored in each of them. “I’m proud of you, son. You did everything I hoped you would — no, no… more than that, even.” 

“I’ll take most of the praise, thanks,” Vice President Na replies with his characteristic cheek. For a moment, so quickly you think you may have missed it, his eyes flicker to you. “But I can’t say I could’ve done it alone.” 

“Punk,” President Na snorts, yanking on his son’s earlobe; you and Secretary Son have to avert your eyes with expert speed to avoid being caught snickering at the slightly juvenile “ow, dammit,” that the Vice President groans out. “One big closed deal, and your head’s this big? I better not catch you floating away to a Las Vegas casino after all this.” 

“Give me some credit; I’d at least visit the desert first.” This time, when the Vice President glances at you, his father’s head turns too, and you stand up straighter at the unprecedented onslaught of attention. “Besides, I’ve got someone here to keep me anchored now.”

“Good work, Secretary ____________,” President Na offers you a rare smile that truly has you feeling like the world has turned upside down: the President in an agreeable (almost ecstatic, though you’d never say that out loud) mood, the Vice President doing his job not just in general but actually commendably well, and not a single strand of baby hair sticking up from out of your ponytail. Inconceivable. 

You bow, murmuring a thank you, and Secretary Son quickly follows suit for the formality of it all before she strides over to the President, who’s leaving his son with one last thunder-like clap on the back before he’s leaving the meeting room, still jovial when he catches up with the suspiciously lagging figure of Mrs. Kwon by the door. 

Vice President Na starts to follow suit, walking towards the other end of the meeting room; you quickly scurry behind him, still clutching your tablet, blinking a low battery warning, to your chest. You’ve come to grow accustomed to the ‘secretary’s pace’ over the last few weeks as well — always close enough to help, never too close enough to step on a superior’s toes.

But in the moment you fumble to silence your device, you end up stepping into someone’s shadow; glancing up at the Vice President, you find yourself looking at not the familiar view of his back but that of his side profile (one you’re actually also familiar with, though you refuse to admit to the level of familiarity). He’s slowed his pace considerably, allowing you to naturally fall into step with him, and even this, he expects a response from you somehow — he asks for it with yet another wiggle of his eyebrows. You laugh again, shaking your head, and yet, inexplicably, it seems to be exactly the reaction he hopes to see.

The department floor erupts into applause when the two of you pass through the glass doors; a flash of mollification crosses the Vice President’s features before he’s back to his signature light humor, raising a palm up in receipt of praise. Park Jinhee is clapping with only her left hand smacking the side of her mug, a few drops of coffee streaming down the handle side on impact. One of the team managers rushes forward, eager to shake Vice President Na’s hand, and, riding his high, also yours, pumping it up and down with so much vigor that you mumble a quiet ow behind a strained smile. Only the Vice President’s hand on your shoulder, steering you away, saves you from what feels like possible dislocation. 

He’s still waving at them like this is a pageant and not his day job, even as he guides you towards his office door; you have to use your elbows to push it open and effectively help you both avoid ramming into frosted glass. The applause dies down as your somewhat conjoined figures disappear through the doorway — you first, albeit convolutedly, your heel still holding strong in the job of keeping the door wide open enough for Vice President Na to saunter through before you let it swing shut to a now relatively silent office floor. 

His hold on your shoulder doesn’t let up, though; it’s still urging you forward, towards his desk, and you open your mouth to say something along the lines of I’m gonna break my hip if we keep going this way, but just as your throat conjures up the first syllable, he turns you around, letting you rest light against the edge of the table. 

In a pattern reminiscent of three days prior, Vice President Na’s hand finds its way to your waist, utterly comfortable in a way that mystifies you; he acts like it belongs there, as natural as the smile that’s still playing on his lips. 

“Sir, you realize it’s the middle of the day?” 

“You realize that we had a deal,” he corrects you, brow furrowing in feigned sternness. “Hold up your end of it, miss secretary.” 

“Only if you stop calling me that.” 

“Now, that absolutely was not part of the contract.” 

When you laugh this time, he chimes in; there’s a harmony in your voices that has your posture softening. You feel airier, your heart much lighter, and when you look up at him, you can’t help but flush at his expectant gaze. 

“You realize it’s the middle of the day,” you repeat, carefully, the words suddenly somewhat unfamiliar on your tongue — the next two syllables, most of all. “Jae… min.” 

Odd as it is, you’re rewarded with the pleased look that takes over his features; he takes a moment to exaggeratedly revel in this new occurrence. 

“Better. Much better. You could still be a bit more comfortable with it, I’d say, but… baby steps?” 

“Please re-prioritize your day, si— Jaemin.” The terse tone you’re going for is brutally marred by your blunder, which has his shoulders shaking from laughter. “Someone could very easily walk in.” 

“Who’s going to fire me?”

“I can think of one person.”

“You heard him. I’m proud of you, Jaemin. You’ve completely exceeded my expectations, Jaemin. You are the light of my life — my favorite son, Jaemin, ho, ho, ho.”

“Sir,” you sigh. “You’re his only son.”

“We had a deal,” he repeats, letting the return to habits slide, and there’s a laughably childish air to his words. “I’ll… file an insubordination report. Breach of contract as well. Tsk, tsk, miss secretary. Not on such a momentous occasion.” 

“Some might classify this as threatening behavior.” Your eyes are soft, though, when they meet his humored gaze. “If you want a reward… ask a little more nicely.”

A soft snort — his fingers dig lightly into your waist, and the next second, he’s lifting you off your feet and settling you lightly atop his desk. his palms never leave you, even after you’ve been placed; they’re increasingly warm beyond the fabric of your top. 

“____________,” he murmurs, saying your name so naturally that you could almost believe he’s referred to you as nothing else for as long as you’ve known him. “Kiss me.” 

Your own hands find their way behind his neck, but he does most of the work in closing the gap anyway; you’re not even sure who, between the two of you, gave that first sigh of longing, of relief. Perhaps it was both of you, all at once. 

Jaemin still tastes like the coffee you’d given him this morning — not a trace of richness, but a bittersweet and earthy twang that’s signature post-Americano. There’s even a hint of mintiness from the nervous handful of Tic Tacs he’d had just before the meeting started; you find that out the moment his tongue swipes against yours, leaving behind the invisible bite of menthol. And then there’s you, a clean taste that settles against his teeth, subtle first but growing stronger until you’re satisfied with the notion that you may linger there for some time — even after you pull away, slightly breathless.

“Congratulations to me,” he breathes out, trademark grin flashing bright again. “So what happens if I close next month’s Disney Plus deal?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; his hand’s already skimming down, over your hips, following the path of your thigh. Your hand reaches out on instinct to stop him, but he’s oddly more aware of his surroundings than you give him credit for (or maybe, you’re just that predictable to him). He meets your palm, fingers lacing into yours and allowing him to lift your wrist to his lips. There, you feel the warmth of his kiss again, and he uses his hold to bring himself even closer, until he’s able to press his face into your neck. 

“Sir—”

“Jaemin. You call me Jaemin from now on, remember?”

“Sir.” You’re adamant. “It’s work hours.”

“You’re not tense.” 

He doesn’t move his head; in fact, you feel him burying his face further into your shoulder. In this position, there’s no real way for you to pull away — there’s also no real desire for you to do so, anyway. 

“No, I’m not.”

“Good.” Warmth again on your skin — his lips leave an invisible mark just above your collarbone. “I like you best like this.”

“What? Not tense?”

“Happy,” he corrects for accuracy. “Happy that you’re with me.” 

You fall silent, not because you’re not sure of what to say, but because you don’t need to tell him that he’s right. 

Moments later, his fingers find their way into your ponytail; the index hooks into the elastic, bringing your hair down. You feel his shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, he’s inhaling your perfume again. 

“Green tea. Something floral. Jasmine? Maybe a little bit of citrus.” He lifts his head but stays close, warm breath washing over you. “It’s so you. Fresh. Pure. Beautiful.” 

The gap between the two of you doesn’t last for too long thereafter; he kisses you again, and your heart lifts to find that your taste still lingers somewhere there. It’s longer because it’s slower — less playful and more exploratory, until he pulls away to a much more breathless you. How he finds the air to talk even after is miraculous to you. 

“Be mine, miss secretary.” 

You blink — once, twice, at his serious expression, wondering if it will break and give way to more humor. But he waits, unwavering, until the last piece of resistance you’ve clung onto is washed away — the last thing that made you, for a second, deny that you were in love with him. 

His smile slowly mirrors yours as it grows. 

“Like you could ever get rid of me, Na Jaemin.” 

#jaemin imagines #jaemin scenario #jaemin drabbles #jaemin drabble #jaemin scenarios #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #nct x you #nct dream x you #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct smut #jaemin smut #nct x reader #nct x y/n

[haespoir]

texts w/ baby daddy!jaemin

req: by anon 💌

#nct #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct imagines #nct social media au #jaemin fic #jaemin social media au #jaemin smau #jaemin scenarios #jaemin texts #jaemin fluff #jaemin text #nct dream imagines #nct dream smau #nct dream texts #nct dream fic #jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin scenario

[niki-phoria]

I'LL GIVE YOU IT ALL

pairing: jaemin x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 767

includes: brief mentions of drinking/partying, reader has social anxiety

summary: while counting down the start of the new year, jaemin finds himself in love with his best friend

you’ve never seen more people in your life. a seemingly endless crowd of people stand in every part of chenle’s apartment - most holding bottles of liquor or dancing along to the rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers. you stand near the corner, observing the chaos as you nurse your own bottle of foul tasting beer. 

“hey!” jaemin’s voice cuts through the noise, stealing your attention away from your drink. you smile as he slips through the crowd, pushing past body after body until he’s leaning back against the wall beside you. “i’m glad you could make it.”

you do your best to muster up a smile, nodding in acknowledgement. “me too.” 

jaemin furrows his eyebrows slightly, taking a step closer to you. he sets his drink aside leaving all of his attention on you. “are you okay? you look a little anxious.”

“i’m fine. there’s just a lot of people here.”

he frowns slightly, glancing out at the sea of bodies surrounding you. reaching out to take your hand into his own, jaemin reassuringly brushes his thumb against your knuckles. he leans in until his lips are nearly brushing against your ear, unleashing a swarm of butterflies throughout your stomach. “let’s go outside. i could use some fresh air anyways.”

you nod, silently following after him as you slip out of the crowd. cool air chills your bones as you lean against the thin metal railing on chenle’s balcony, staring out at the sea of lights that make up the horizon. even with a thick glass door separating you from the still-ongoing party inside, you can hear the pounding music and feel the bass vibrate the ground beneath your feet. 

you startle slightly when a hand brushes against your side. jaemin stifles a chuckle beneath his breath as he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. despite now being in a much quieter area, jaemin leans down once again. “it’s so much nicer out here,” he murmurs. his breath just barely ghosting against your ear sends shivers down your spine. “are you feeling any better?”

“yeah,” you breathe, doing your best to ignore the nervous feeling in your chest. you turn slightly to face jaemin. even in the dim lighting you can see a faint smirk on his lips. 

10

“i can’t believe it’s time for the countdown already,” he comments. he sighs, looking out towards the city lights in the distance. you hum in agreement, following his gaze towards the sea of blurry colours. 

09

“do you have a resolution?” 

“i don’t know,” jaemin pauses. the silence lingers for a few seconds before he continues. “there is… something i’ve been meaning to do.”

08

“what is it?” 

he reaches up, carelessly brushing a hand through his hair - a nervous habit you had started noticing more in the last few months.

07

jaemin reaches up to cup your cheek with his hand. his touch is almost hesitant as he brushes his thumb against your cheek. your heartbeat pounds in your ears when he takes a step closer, limiting the distance between you once again. 

06

“i love you,” he murmurs. 

in the darkness you nearly miss his words entirely, blinking up at him in surprise. “what?” 

05

jaemin chuckles. his gaze falls down to your lips for a second before his gaze meets your own once again. “i’ve loved you forever. you’re the most incredible person i’ve ever met.”

04

a beat of silence passes. you continue staring into jaemin’s eyes, losing yourself in their darkness. your breath hitches in your throat.

03

“i love you too.” you can nearly see the wave of relief pass through him. he smiles brightly at you; his cheeks flushed and heart pounding in his chest. 

02

your fingers unconsciously curl around the collar of jaemin’s shirt, keeping him in place. pulling him closer.

01

cheers erupt around you in waves. the world around you fades away as you greedily tug jaemin closer until your lips finally meet. his lips are soft as they mold against yours as if your bodies were made for each other.his hand falls to your waist, tugging you even closer to him. your lungs burn from a lack of air when you finally pull away. 

jaemin chuckles when you meet his eyes once again; your flushed cheeks mirror his own. he reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, relishing in his newfound confidence from the kiss. despite your lack of words, a silent acknowledgement passes between you - everything has changed.  “happy new year, baby,” jaemin smiles.

notes: happy new year everyone !! i hope 2024 is good for all of you <33

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, consider checking out my nct dream masterlist <3

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[lowkeychenle]

the 1 [NJM] (M)

Description: Six years ago, you decided to move away to a different country to go to school. The catch? You had to leave Jaemin behind, and you refused to drag him along. Now you're back and, for some reason, he doesn't quite seem to hate you in the way you thought he would.

(this is inspired by the Taylor Swift song by the same name, listen to it here)

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst TRIPLE THREAT (?? am i okay)

Content Warnings: Explicit sex, break ups, the angst isn't too bad I don't think. Just break up stuff l o l (also don't judge any typos or repetitions I didn't edit this because I wrote this whole thing today someone save me from myself) (also also I am totally working on all requests still, I just get random inspo sometimes and when it hits, it hits)

Word Count: 10,012 (yoo for why did I make this so long help)

Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader (this is a non-canon AU, Jaemin is a lil businessman and the rest of Dream make appearances here. PS, Best Friend!Donghyuck y'all)

Juliet's Masterlist

Honestly, you never thought you’d make your way back to Seoul. Not when you didn’t have much to come back to. Leaving for college was the scariest decision you’d ever made, but you’re so much better off for it. The experience of living in another country—even if it just for school—is the best thing you’ve ever done.

But Seoul is home. Home is where the heart is, and yours has always resided here, even long after you left. You wonder about the friends you left behind, knowing you haven’t been the best at keeping up with them.

You especially think of Jaemin. The two of you were both twenty-two when you left and, at the time, you would’ve said you were in love with him. You’d been dating for a year before you made your decision.

You don’t think of him in a way that you still have feelings for him, but rather, you want the best for him. If anything, you want to know he’s been as successful as you after you walked away from him.

“America?” Jaemin raises his eyebrows, recoiling at the thought. “I mean, that’s a great opportunity, but wouldn’t it be hard?”

“Of course, it’ll be hard. I think I need to do this before it’s too late for me.” You look down at your hands to avoid eye contact with him. The last thing you want to do is break his heart. Hell, you’ll be breaking your own, too. But being in love with Jaemin doesn’t mean you have to stop everything going on in your life to make sure you keep him.

“How long?” he asks.

“The standard degree path is four years over there, but it could take longer.”

He pauses, gulping. “Wow. You’ll be gone for four years?”

“Yeah.” You pick at your nails and clear your throat. “This is…This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Jaem. I can’t miss it.”

“I know. I wouldn’t want you to. Um, I guess I’m just nervous as to what that means for us.”

“I love you.” You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “I love you so much, but I can’t ask you to wait for me for four years. Or longer.”

“It’s not like we won’t talk. We have calls, FaceTime, we have everything. However long you need, we’ll work it out.” He tilts his head. At your hesitation, worry spreads across his face.

“I…I don’t know if I’ll come back at all, is what I mean.” You finally meet his gaze and watch the shock course through him.

“Okay, then I’ll move there, too,” he replies, as if it were simple. His forehead wrinkles as he frowns. “If that’s what you want, I can do that. We’ve only been together a year, (Y/N), that’s not long enough for me. I need forever. I promised you forever and I meant it.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.” You shake your head, feeling your eyes well with tears. “Your family’s here. Your friends. We both know you wouldn’t want to move away from your mom forever.”

Jaemin lets out a short breath, tugging his hand away from yours and running it through his hair. “So that’s it? There’s no way I can convince you?”

“You deserve someone who wants the same things you do. The same life. If I can’t give that to you, someone else will. I love you, but sometimes, love isn’t always enough if we’re being pulled in different directions.”

“I won’t just forget about you. You’re just going to disappear?” He wipes away a tear, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to forget about me. I’m not forgetting about you. I just need to do something for myself, and I can’t force you along with me.”

The barista jolts you from your trance, asking you if there’s something she can help you with. You clear your throat, hoping you’ll be able to talk past the lump in your throat. After ordering your favorite coffee, you stand off to the side to wait for it.

The door dings behind you, but you think nothing of it. You continue about your business, checking your phone for the time and waiting for your drink. A message comes through from your friend Donghyuck asking if you’d gotten everything settled already.

You and Jaemin had the same friend group. That’s how you met, actually. Donghyuck brought you over to one of their group hang outs, and you and Jaemin clung to each other like glue. It was inevitable that you two would end up dating, and when you did, literally not one of them were surprised.

You send him a quick message back saying everything’s good, and then the barista calls your name. Smiling at her, you walk up to grab the steaming hot cup. Nearly groaning to yourself about how good it smells, you turn around to walk toward the door.

That’s when you see him.

Jaemin.

You haven’t seen him in years. Sure, you still had each other on social media, but you never went out of your way to look at him. Five years has done him well and, at first, you’re unsure if you should say anything. He’s staring right at you, but it doesn’t feel like an invitation. It feels weird.

He’s clearly not the same Jaemin he was, but he’s Jaemin.

And right when you think he’s going to storm off in the other direction and want nothing to do with you, he smiles widely and approaches you. His smile is as gorgeous as it was before, maybe even more so. Normally, this would do little to bother you. You two ended on somewhat good terms, so there’s no reason for either of you to be holding a grudge all this time later.

He wears black pants with a pale pink button-down tucked into them. There isn’t another word to describe him other than divine. He looks good. 

With his hands buried in his pockets, he makes his way over. “I thought that was you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” You laugh shortly, surprised that you don’t feel too awkward now that he’s in front of you. “Wow, how long has it been?”

As if you don’t know.

“Five years?” he says it like a question. “It hasn’t been that long since we’ve talked though. I guess things are just hard with time zones, aren’t they?”

You give an exaggerated nod. “Totally get that. Well, how have you been?”

“Busy.” He snorts, widening his eyes. “Busy like you wouldn’t believe. Did you end up getting your degree over there? Have you been to see Donghyuck yet?”

“I got the very expensive piece of paper, yes. And I haven’t seen him yet, no. I got back two days ago and have been trying to get things settled before I take a break.” You sip your coffee, almost sighing at the taste of vanilla on your tongue.

“I’m proud of you.” He purses his lips. “Not sure if that means much, but I am. I’m glad it worked out the way you wanted.”

“Thank you. It means a lot, especially from you. What did you decide to do here?” you ask him, tilting your head a bit.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear,” Jaemin says. “Renjun, Chenle, Jeno, and I opened a business a couple years back. We’ve been doing pretty well, but it doesn’t really leave us with much time for anything else.”

“Holy shit, Jaem, that’s awesome.” You can’t help but grin at him. “I always knew you guys were destined for great things.”

You think back to when you’d hang out with all of them—Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, Chenle, and Jisung. Every Saturday night, you’d all get together for drinks at someone’s house, a constant rotation of happiness, friendship, and pure adoration. You love all of them, albeit in different ways, you feel a strong connection to them all. Being without them for so long has certainly made you nostalgic, but you’re sure you’ll at least see some of them now that you’re back.

You’re not sure if Jaemin will ever be comfortable hanging out with you. Neither of you were particularly bitter in your breakup, but it wasn’t mutual. You didn’t even want it, and he certainly didn’t either. But Jaemin has always been understanding—almost to a fault. He would never ask you to do something if it was against what you wanted to do.

“You know.” He pauses, running his tongue over his teeth. “Are you busy? I’m on my lunch, so if you want to catch up a little, I have the time.”

You hesitate, unsure if it’s a good idea. Before you and Jaemin dated, he was an excellent friend, too. Your only worry at this point is if things will be awkward between the two of you, but it doesn’t seem to be that way yet.

“Yeah, actually.” You take another sip of your coffee, cradling your jacket over your arm to your chest.

He gives you another dazzling smile and gestures over to a small table by the window. “After you.”

You sit down, shrugging your purse from your shoulder and hanging it from the back of the chair. He follows your lead, black hair falling like a curtain over his forehead as he leans forward to bring the seat closer. An odd urge to brush it away overtakes you, but you grab your coffee instead.

Your past with Jaemin is long gone. He’s definitely moved on to bigger, better things, and so have you. Your time in America wasn’t wasted, and you knew from Donghyuck the moment Jaemin moved on from you. It didn’t hurt the way you thought it would. You wanted him happy and cared for, and if you couldn’t do it, you hoped and prayed someone else would.

That was three years ago, but Donghyuck never talked about Jaemin to you again, unless it was something small that happened in a group setting. At that point, you’d also moved on, so as long as he was alive and thriving, you didn’t need to hear about it. Everything was okay.

You’ll always hold an unmatched adoration for the man sitting in front of you. He was your first real love, but everyone knows not everything in your early twenties lasts. It’s true what they say—that you never truly forget your first love. That, and how once you love someone, you’ll always hold some sort of affection for them in your heart.

You tell Jaemin of all the things you got to do in America, and he listens intently. In turn, he tells you about his business and how they grew it from the ground up. It’s one of the largest companies in South Korea, and your heart warms with pride.

Everything you did makes sense. You did it for a good reason. If he had dropped everything and come with you to America, he wouldn’t be doing what he loves. Eventually, you were sure he would’ve grown to resent you if he had gone.

Before you know it, the two of you have been talking for well over an hour. Your coffee is gone, the small bit left at the bottom chilled. On a whim, he checks his watch and recoils in shock.

“Oh shit,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize how long we’d been here.”

“It’s no big deal,” you reply, waving him off. “I’ll get going though.”

“Actually…So the guys and I still do Saturday nights. If you want to come this Saturday, it’s at my place. If you want, I can text you the address.” He taps his fingers on the table.

“Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun. It’ll be nice to see everyone. I did get a new number though, so let me give it to you.” You reach into your purse for your phone so you can find it. Since you had to switch plans when you moved back, you don’t really know it yet either.

You read it off to him, and he purses his lips while he sends his address to you in a text message. Afterwards, he stands up and brushes off his pants.

“It’ll be just like old times. Jisung is finally old enough to drink, too.” Jaemin chuckles to himself before running his fingers through his hair to push it back. “I’ll see you Saturday? We start at six.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there.” You watch as he retreats away from you, head held high as he walks out of the coffee shop. He was confident back when you dated, but he’s even more so, and for good reason. No matter what, it’s like he gets increasingly attractive as he ages.

As soon as he’s out of sight, you tap your cheeks to get the slight blush off of them. You didn’t expect to run into him like that, not so soon, but you’re glad you did. Everything happens for a reason, and you’re glad he’s okay with everyone hanging out. You’d hate to lose out on your friends because they have to pick sides.

The encounter stays heavy on your mind even until the next day when you’re supposed to meet Donghyuck for lunch. Your apartment is on the smaller side, since most of your savings was spent to get over here.

The living room is a little under furnished, but it’s nothing you won’t accumulate as time goes on. You have a soft loveseat, a TV mounted to the wall, and a small hallway off to the side that contains your kitchen and all the appliances. Your bedroom is on the left side, big enough only for your bed and a dresser.

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, trying your best to look at least presentable. You’ve been exhausted lately. Moving countries, across the world, takes a toll on you. At least today is Thursday. You have a job interview tomorrow, and then you’ll get to see your friends on Saturday. Your heart aches for them. They were the best friends you ever had, a complete, close knit group of people who just function so well together. There wasn’t anything else in the world like it.

You go to the small sandwich shop, finding Donghyuck already sitting there waiting for you. His face lights up like a Christmas tree at the sight of you, and his chair scrapes across the floor as he hurries to get up and hug you. He squeezes you so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. You laugh anyway, returning the gesture the best you can.

“My God, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” he says, smiling widely. “Shit, you’re not allowed to move out of the country again.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him. “You came to visit six months ago.”

“Six months is still half a year, (Y/N). Never again.”

“Luckily for you, I do plan on staying.” You wait for him to release you before the two of you head over to the line to order.

“Every time I see you, it’s like you’ve grown up more.” Donghyuck fakes a pout, shaking his head. “Look at you, being an adult in the world.”

“Shut your mouth,” you say. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“A year is plenty of time for extra wisdom.” He crosses his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows like his point is valid.

He orders for both of you, insisting on paying even though you’re about ready to wrestle his wallet out of his hands. It doesn’t matter if you had a billion dollars, he would still insist. That’s always what he’s been for you, your best friend. He takes care of you even when you don’t need it.

“So, when’s your interview?” he asks, accepting the cups from the person at the counter. Handing it to you, he leads you over to the fountain, filling his with Coke Zero.

“I’m glad to see some things never change.” You grin, picking your favorite drink as well. “It’s tomorrow. I’m hoping it works out, because job searching is so tiring.”

“Tell me about it. I’m sure it’ll go great. You’re multilingual and stuff. Employers love that shit.”

Before you respond, the order is ready. You two walk back to your table, conversing back and forth about random things. The conversation takes a turn, and you’re surprised when he actually brings it up.

“Jaemin said he invited you for Saturday.” Donghyuck sips his drink. “Are you going?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t miss something like that. It’s been too long since I’ve seen everyone.”

“I know that. It’s not weird with you and him, though?”

“Not at all.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you contemplate. “I was worried it would be, but we caught up a little. He seems to be doing really well. If it’s not awkward for him, it won’t be for me. I’d love to be reinstated in the friend group.”

“Reinstated?” He scrunches his nose. “That implies that you were ever un-instated.”

“Is…is that a word?” You chuckle.

“I don’t know. Sounds right to me.” He shrugs, taking a large bite of his sandwich. “I did tell them you were coming back, but also that I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with that. They all miss you. I swear, Jisung has been talking my ear off asking when we’ll all get together. He’ll be so happy you’re coming.”

Jisung has always been the baby of the group. Even as a full grown adult, you all treat him like a child. He doesn’t complain about it, and he feeds into it probably a bit more than he should. You learn Mark and Donghyuck live together, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jeno live in their own places, and Jisung and Renjun live together. You’re a bit shocked by the last pairing, but you don’t say anything about it.

“Just promise me that if it does get weird, you’ll tell me?”

“I’ll tell you. Promise.” You nod. “I don’t think it will. It was years ago, Hyuck. He moved on, I moved on, and we’re completely different people now. Neither of us are mad.”

“Good. It’ll be nice to have the family back together again.”

After lunch, Donghyuck drives you home. You thank him for the ride, and you head up to your apartment. Regardless of what you say out loud, your brain truly is whirling like crazy after your time with Jaemin.

You didn’t expect seeing him to send you for a loop like this, but you can’t help but think back to how happy you were with him. You two were…something. Maybe not perfect, but it was fun. Magnetic. Passionate. Everything you’ve tried to replicate, even though it’s impossible. No other man could ever be Jaemin.

Your mind drifts off, and you lose yourself in memories.

Saturday nights were a novelty. You sit on Chenle’s couch with Jaemin practically hung over you, the rest of the guys talking simultaneously and incredibly loudly. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you loved it. It reminded you how many people you had by your side, and how many of them were truly like you.

Jaemin kisses your temple, pausing there for a moment. It’s late, and you know he’s getting tired. Even though these are your best friends, you understand his need to wind down after a long night. You bring your wine glass up to your lips, finishing it off.

“Ready?” he asks softly.

You glance over at him and nod, smiling. “Yeah, let me go put this away.”

When you stand up, hardly anyone notices. Chenle and Jisung are basically yelling at each other about something you can’t discern. You laugh when Chenle argues with dramatic hand motions. That’s how you know it’s serious.

You’re pretty sure Renjun has Jeno in a headlock, but you go into the kitchen before you get a good look. It’s a bit quieter in here, and you take a deep breath. You place the glass gently into the sink, closing your eyes and craning your neck back in an attempt to relax. Saturday nights drain you in the best ways, and exhaustion is starting to creep in.

Before you know it, a pair of arms snake around your waist, tugging you back gently. You find yourself against Jaemin’s chest, and you instinctively lean your head on his shoulder.

“And I thought I was tired,” he mumbles, kissing your hairline. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Can I stay with you tonight?” You turn to face him, lost in the way the lights glitter in his deep brown eyes. He truly is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t have to restrain yourself from reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin is so smooth beneath your touch, you want to touch it forever.

“You don’t even have to ask.” He nods. “You’re always allowed to stay with me.”

Jaemin tells the boys you’re leaving. Chenle and Jisung halt their argument to give you a hug, and even Renjun allows Jeno some breathing time so he can say goodbye, too. Jaemin’s place isn’t far from Chenle’s, so you sit in silence for the ride, sleep threatening to take over on the way.

His fingers intertwine with yours over the center console, and his thumb rubs gently on your skin. You hum in content.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he whispers, careful not to startle you. “We’re almost there, my love.”

You try your best to listen to him. When you finally pull into his building’s parking lot, you’re barely able to keep your eyes open.

This week had been extra long, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to go to Chenle’s tonight in the first place. You’re glad you did, but you’d much rather be curled up with Jaemin. He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out, striding over to your side of the car.

Opening your door, he reaches across you to take your seatbelt off. “You okay? Do you want me to carry you?”

“Carry me? Jaem, you live on the fourth floor. I’ll be fine, just help me up.” You hold your hand out to him, but he clicks his tongue and slides his hands beneath your back and knees.

“You underestimate me,” he teases you, pulling you into his chest. “I’ll get you upstairs.”

Instead of arguing, you let your head fall onto his chest and you listen to his steady heartbeat. You’ve been together for six months now, and everything has been perfect. At this point, you’re pretty sure you want to marry Jaemin. You don’t know if he feels the same way, but you know you’d be damn lucky if that’s how things go.

He’s caring. Loving. All the things you could ever ask for. Hell, he’s carrying you into his apartment building so you don’t have to walk. He’ll make breakfast in the morning like he always does when you stay the night, and he’ll brush your hair and braid it if you want.

When you finally make it up to the fourth floor (via elevator, thankfully for Jaemin), his heart is still steady in his chest, and he brings you inside his apartment easily. He immediately brings you into his bedroom, setting you on his bed.

“Want a shirt, love?” he asks, heading over to his dresser.

“Please.” Your eyes are closed as you rest on his pillow, sinking into the soft mattress as if you’re on top of a cloud.

Jaemin grabs one for you, helping you sit up so he can help you take your blouse off. He pulls it over your head, the cotton fabric settling on your skin. It smells of his laundry detergent, so you take a deep breath to appreciate it.

“Okay,” he mutters. “Lay down now.”

He guides you back down, and he finds the button on your jeans. You aide him in taking them off of you, and then he kneels on the floor next to you, eye level with you.

“I love you,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Forever. I promise.”

“Me too,” you reply, voice quiet. “Love you forever.”

With a soft smile, he leans forward to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep, my love. I’ll be back to cuddle in a few minutes.”

You watch him walk into his bathroom, but you’re fast asleep before he comes back out.

Forever. You scoff at your ceiling. What a concept. A novelty, really. You’re not even sure if it exists at this point. If a man like Jaemin wasn’t your forever, who the hell would be? Nobody interested you enough. You don’t think you want Jaemin anymore, but you don’t want anyone else either.

A cat. That’s what you need.

You try to distract yourself with the thought of that, but it doesn’t take long for another memory to completely consume you.

“Is this okay?” he asks, chest heaving while he hovers above you as his hand rubs up and down your side. “Tell me if you’re not comfortable.”

“I love you,” you tell him easily, as if the words are second-nature when they come to him. “I’m ready. I want you.”

Seven months in, and you and Jaemin were just now preparing to have sex for the first time. You’d touched each other, explored each other, but he always insisted he wanted it to be perfect. This, you decide, is perfect. He’s perfect. Nothing about him makes you nervous, and you’re more than ready to take the next step with him.

Neither of you are virgins, but it’d obviously been a while for you both. He lines himself up with your entrance and groans.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, as if he’s mesmerized. “I love you.”

To quell his nerves, you pull him down into a soft kiss, letting your mouths work together in perfect harmony while he slowly, carefully pushes inside you. His lips part, still pressed to yours, once he’s fully in.

Your eyes desperately want to flutter shut, but you don’t dare look away from him right now. He stays there for a moment, relishing in the feeling of the two of you finally being connected like this. Jaemin is deeply sentimental, so you know how much it means for him to take this step with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently. “God, you feel so good.”

A small whimper leaves you at the sensation, and you rock your hips in response. “Move,” you tell him.

He drops his head to your neck, kissing, sucking, and nipping as he sets his pace. Oh so careful not to break you, he moans into your skin, the vibrations making your whole body tremble. The slide of him against your walls is intoxicating, and all you can do is take it, legs locked firmly around him as he takes you to a new world.

“Jaem.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair for encouragement.

He continues to thrust, his breathing starting to increase when he gets closer to the edge. Without missing a beat, he reaches between the two of you to rub circles on your clit. You moan a bit louder than you should, but you don’t care.

Suddenly, you’re floating, brain going fuzzy when you reach heights you never thought you could. Your back arches into his body, nails digging into his shoulders as the world tilts off its axis.

“Shit,” he gasps, hips bucking. “You’re squeezing me so tight.”

You let out a shuddering breath, body slumping when you land from your free fall. Weaving your fingers through his hair, you pull him up to kiss you, swallowing his breathy whine as he cums.

Both of you sit there for a few moments, the only sounds are from the panting. He rests more of his weight on top of you, enveloping you in all the heat pouring out of his body. With a sweet kiss, he hums into your mouth.

“We’re gonna have to do that again.” He chuckles, his nose nuzzling your cheek. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“Says you,” you retort.

“I’m so serious.” Jaemin frowns at you. “I’m going to make love to you forever. We’ll get old and gray and I’ll still find you sexy.”

You laugh, smacking his chest. “You’re ridiculous. But you better mean that.”

“I’ve never meant anything more.”

When Saturday rolls around, you head into your closet to pick out an outfit. You don’t want to wear anything too fancy, but not too casual either. Settling on a flowy, pale pink top and a pair of jeans, staring at yourself in the mirror for much too long.

No part of today has to be weird. You’ll show up, have a great night, go home, and repeat it again the next week. Even knowing that, you’re more nervous for tonight than you were for your interview yesterday.

You think you got the job, but you’d hear back for sure on Monday. Logically, you have nothing to worry about on either end.

You put Jaemin’s address into the map on your phone, and you see it’s not too far from your apartment. Donghyuck offered to pick you up, but you decided it’d be best if you got there on your own. That way, you don’t have to make Hyuck leave early if things aren’t going well for you.

You slide on your boots, checking your pockets to make sure you have everything before you walk out into the street. Locking the door behind you, you make your way over. It’s a little before six, but everyone knows you’re chronically early. Even when you and Jaemin were dating, you were at least fifteen minutes early for every occasion.

You’re excited to see Jaemin again, but you know you shouldn’t be. In fact, you distract yourself with the idea of all the other boys. You saw Hyuck already, but seeing all the others for the first time in years is going to be a great experience.

When you arrive at the building, you blink in surprise. With him being a successful businessman, you knew he probably didn’t live in the same place, but this one shocked you. It’s huge. There are probably dozens of floors, and you have to look at his text message again to see which one he’s on.

Twenty-four? Holy shit.

You step into the lobby, and the man at the front desk also serves as an elevator guard. When you approach, he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Where are you needing to go, ma’am?” he asks.

“Twenty-fourth floor, it doesn’t say a number on the text, though—”

“Let me call up there to confirm. What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you reply, shifting on your feet.

“One moment, please.” He grabs the phone off the hook and dials quickly. “Mr. Na, I have a woman here to see you. Her name is (Y/N).”

It only takes a second for the man to nod and hang up the phone. He bows his head to you and gestures behind him. “He said he’s expecting you.”

The doors part for you and you step inside, and somehow, the button for the twenty-fourth floor is already pressed. You wait patiently inside as you ascend, the nerves beginning to sink in. Jaemin might be expecting you, sure, but you’re probably going to be the first one there. You always are.

When the elevator dings and opens, you expect a hallway. Instead, you’re walking straight into Jaemin’s living room. The wall across from you is all glass, the buzzing city view below making your heart drop. Hardwood flooring covers the expanse of the room, a faux fireplace on with a large sectional in front of it, a coffee table, and several other seating arrangements.

A few bottles of rosé are in a bin of ice on the coffee table, with ten glasses set out. You frown, letting your mind wander on who they could be for.

“Oh, you’re here!” It’s not Jaemin’s voice you hear.

When you turn toward it, you’re surprised to see a woman. She’s beautiful, with long black hair and shining brown eyes, and it takes you less than a split second to realize who she is. What did you expect? Jaemin moved on, and you shouldn’t be surprised. Your ribcage shouldn’t be constricting as hard as it is right now, but you laugh as she gives you a hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger.” She chuckles as she pulls away from you. “I’ve heard so much about you. The boys get so crazy when good things happen. It’ll be nice to have another girl around here, Jiyoon and I are pretty close to insane. I’m Yeeun.”

She holds her hand out to you and you take it, overwhelmed by the information she’s given you. Jaemin walks out from the kitchen, his white button-down shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the bottom hem tucked into a pair of blue jeans.

“Don’t scare her away.” Jaemin grins, shaking his head at her. “She’s kind of shy.”

“I’m not shy,” you retort.

“And that’s why you’re only one step inside, right?” Jaemin quirks an eyebrow, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “Make yourself at home. Lord knows everyone else does.”

“Where should I put my stuff?” I ask.

“The couch is fine. Everyone should be here soon.” Jaemin gestures over, but before you say anything else, he heads back into the kitchen.

“He’s so serious.” Yeeun cringes, walking with you to the couch. “Sometimes I think he’s got a stick in some places.”

“I can hear you,” Jaemin says.

You have to hold back another laugh.

“That’s the point,” she shouts back.

You take a seat and cross your legs, taking in the grandeur of Jaemin’s apartment. Various paintings hang on the walls and, in the midst of your concentration, something jumps in your lap. You gasp, throwing your hand over your mouth.

Thankfully, it’s just a kitten.

“Oh, that’s Luna.” Yeeun reaches over to give her a quick pet. “Jaemin’s got three cats. Luna, Lucy, and Luke. They kinda look similar, but you’ll learn them eventually.”

You stare at the animal in shock, wondering what convinced Jaemin to get three at once. Shrugging it off, you pick her up and hold her to your chest, running your hand over her soft fur.

“Chenle should be here any minute,” Yeeun says under her breath, glancing down at her phone. “Let me c—”

The elevator dings again, and Chenle walks in without a second thought. He tosses his jacket on the table and rolls his shoulders as if he’s done a bunch of work. Yeeun launches from the couch, and you can’t say you’re not relieved when you see her plant a kiss firmly on his lips. She’s not Jaemin’s girlfriend, she’s Chenle’s.

“You miss me after not seeing me for an hour?” he teases her, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“You’re so mean.” She scrunches her face, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the couch.

Chenle grins widely when he sees you and gives you a quick hug. “You finally decide to come back after five years?”

“Don’t be a brat.” You snort. “You’re elated I’ve returned.”

“We all are,” he says easily. “If I have to hear Hyuck cry one more time about you being thousands of miles away I might end him.”

“You and me both.”

“Oh, I had Yeeun come a little early. I knew you’d be atrociously early because you’re you, and I thought it might be weird with you and Jaemin alone, so…” Chenle lowers his voice.

“I appreciate you.” You smile, taking your spot back on the couch. “I’m okay, though. Really.”

Especially now that you know Jaemin’s not dating Yeeun.

“Chenle, I swear to God, if you eat all of this fucking board before everyone else gets here, I’m going to kill you.” Jaemin reenters, placing a charcuterie board down by the wine. “This took hours, dude.”

“I’ll leave it alone.” Chenle holds his hands up in mock surrender, sitting next to Yeeun and throwing his arm over her shoulders.

The next one to show up is Hyuck, who brings Mark in tow. They both hug you, and by now, conversation is flowing with everyone. Jeno is next, then Renjun and Jisung. You’re not sure what you were expecting from him, but he’s definitely turned into a grown up since the last time you’ve seen him.

“Holy shit,” you say, practically in awe. “Did you have seven growth spurts?”

“Actually, I think it was only one.” He laughs, patting your back. “I didn’t believe Hyuck when he said you were coming. Told him I’d have to see it with my own eyes first.”

When everyone is finally sitting down around the couch, you notice Chenle already eating some of the cheese. Jaemin glares at him, but he eventually gives up. You sit between Yeeun and Donghyuck, fading into the conversation in the way you used to. It warms your heart, and you have to fight the overwhelming feeling of having missed so much time.

Leaving was worth it. The experience you had was unlike any other, but you regretted not staying in contact with all of them—even Jaemin. Mark opens the wine first, pouring it into nine of the glasses.

“Where’s Jiyoon?” He frowns, directing his gaze to Jisung.

He shrugs. “She’ll be here soon. Her grandparents are in town, so she’s staying with her mom until they leave. But she shouldn’t be any later than seven-thirty.”

Your mind whirls at how they’re reacting to Jisung having a girlfriend like it’s normal. He’ll always be your baby brother in your eyes, regardless of blood relation.

“How’d your interview go?” Donghyuck asks you, roping you into the conversation.

“Oh, I think it went well. I find out for sure on Monday, so I’ll let you know.” You grin. “I’m ready to start making more money.”

“Why don’t you just come work for us?” Chenle offers. “I’m surprised Hyuck didn’t tell us you were looking for a job still.”

Donghyuck drops his head into his palm. “No shit, sherlock. Think about why I wouldn’t.”

“It doesn’t need to be like that,” Jaemin interjects, sighing. “(Y/N) and I are good. There’s no eggshells to walk on. Just let it go. Pretend it never happened.”

Pretend it never happened?

Your heart ping pongs around your chest, and you choke on your sip of wine. Everyone turns toward you and you chuckle nervously.

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting this topic.” You set the glass down on the table, suddenly much less interested in it.

“If that’s what she wants, she can absolutely do that,” Jaemin continues. “If we’re ever going to be normal, we can’t be the only ones over it.”

You stare down at your lap, fidgeting with your hands as you try to ignore all the attention on you.

“Um.” You clear your throat. “I’m gonna go grab some water.”

You shoot up from your spot, darting into the kitchen before anyone can say anything else. Once you reach the island, you brace your palms on it to keep you afloat. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath.

“Hey,” Jaemin murmurs, stopping next to you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if that was too much.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did I say something?” He furrows his eyebrows and shifts closer so you have to look at him.

“No, Jaemin, I promise. Everything’s good. I just need a minute.” You run your fingers through your hair and glance around the room. “Do you have water bottles?”

“In the fridge,” he replies.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he rests his back on the edge of the island, watching you as you grab one. You twist off the cap and take a sip.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. That was never my intention.” Jaemin sighs.

“Regardless of your intention, I’m not uncomfortable. Everyone’s just so…different. But the same. And I missed you guys, you know? I missed Saturday nights and being around my favorite people, but it’s…Forget it. Please.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Come back out whenever you’re ready, then.”

Jaemin walks away from you, looking back once over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner. You bury your head in your hands, but you refuse to let anyone think you’re upset. About anything. Jaemin especially.

You take another drink of water before you follow him out to the living room. When you make it back to your spot between Hyuck and Yeeun, he leans over to whisper, “I got up to follow you and he looked like he would rip my head off if I moved another muscle.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

Shortly after that incident, Jiyoon finally shows up. She’s a bit taller than Yeeun, with dyed blonde hair and brown eyes. Jisung introduces the two of you, and she greets you kindly. Mark fills her glass and hands it to her.

 You hear funny stories from Jeno, listen to Renjun scolding Jisung about something, and rest your head on Hyuck’s shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind, so you don’t plan on moving. He’s having a heated discussion about something to do with stocks with Jaemin and Mark. You happily tune them out, because you have no idea what they’re talking about.

You finish your glass of wine and pour yourself another one. Chenle’s taken care of most of the charcuterie board by now, and Yeeun is showing him videos on her phone. You take a moment to appreciate everyone around you, something you never did before, and realize change may not be a bad thing.

Yes, everyone is different, but so are you. It’s magical when people grow up in the same direction, even past time, distance, and space. They’re all the same at their core, but older. Wiser. Happier. More mature.

You’re on your third glass by the time the night deepens. It must be past ten o’clock at this point, but you don’t feel tired at all. You’re surprised when Chenle and Yeeun leave first. They both hug you on their way out.

Apparently, they broke the seal, because Jisung and Jiyoon are next, followed closely by Renjun. Jeno doesn’t leave until eleven, and Mark and Donghyuck are packing up to leave as well.

“Do you need a ride home?” Hyuck asks.

“I’m okay.” You shake your head. “I’ll leave in a few minutes, don’t worry.”

He hesitates, but eventually listens to you. You’re left alone with Jaemin, much to your surprise, and he’s not kicking you out at the first opportunity he gets.

“Did you want help cleaning up?” you question.

“There’s not much to clean,” Jaemin replies, standing from his seat. “I won’t say no to help though.”

“Of course.” You chuckle and get up, brushing off your jeans. 

Grabbing a few of the glasses, you carry them into the kitchen and put them by the sink. Between the two of you, you’ve got everything in the kitchen within a few minutes.

“I’m glad you came,” Jaemin says, running the water to rinse out the dishes.

“Me too.” It’s not a lie. You love being in this group, but you wonder if there was a better way to ease back in.

“I…Can I say something?” he asks. “If it’s too weird, you can tell me no.”

“By all means.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m not bitter and I don’t hate you. I missed you a lot, actually. But I don’t want you to think you can’t come around because of me.” He pauses, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m really proud of you. Of all the things you’ve accomplished, and I know we couldn’t have done the same things if we had stayed together.”

You don’t mean to let out a relieved breath, but his words take a weight off your shoulders. “Thank you, Jaem. I’m proud of you too.”

“Have one more drink with me? For old times’ sake?” 

“I’d love that.”

So that’s how you end up next to Jaemin on his couch, his feet kicked up on his coffee table. You make jokes, talk about everyday things, but the more you drink, the more you crave to know about the past, about what happened after you left.

“Is the past off-limits?” You turn to look at him, almost blushing when you realize how close his face is to yours.

“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “But for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one.”

“That sounds like a good deal.” You smile. “But you go first.”

He gives you a half-smile before pursing his lips as he thinks. “Was it easy for you? Over there, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t say it was easy. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact experience because things are so different here…but I don’t think I’d go back. It was a good experience, and I loved it, but this is where I belong.” You stop, contemplating your own question. “How were you?”

“Is complete honesty okay?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s preferred, actually.” You take another sip.

“It took me a long time to recover. And I don’t want to make you feel bad, because what’s done is done, and we both needed the room to grow. You know, if you never hurt, you’ll never learn. Life is full of learning experiences. But yeah, I was a mess for a while. I loved you long after you left.” He smiles, as if loving you is a fond memory. “Do you miss me?”

Present tense. Miss. Not did you miss me, but do you miss me.

You chuckle, pursing your lips. “Yeah, I do.”

When you meet his gaze again, you see the soft look he gave you whenever he saw you before. He gulps, wetting his lips. Your heart twists in your chest as you realize what this means for you. No matter how much time passes, you’ll never stop loving Jaemin. It doesn’t matter how far apart you’ve been or for how long, because all of you yearns for all of him.

Your voice shakes when you ask your next question. “Where would we be if I hadn’t left? If I changed that, would everything be different?”

“Um.” He’s only inches away from you, studying your face with fervor. “In my mind, I definitely thought we’d be married by now. In love and happy, making babies that hopefully look more like you.”

You try not to let the tears form, but they sting your eyes anyway.

“Is that what you wanted?” he whispers.

“Well, I kinda wanted them to look more like you, but yeah.” You laugh as a tear falls, and you move to wipe it away, but Jaemin beats you to it. His thumb swipes across your cheek.

You’re not sure what’s happening between the two of you, but every part of you craves this.

“We were pretty great, huh?”

“Is that your question?” He smiles. “Because yeah, we were.”

“If that was mine, that one counted as yours too.” You lean into his touch, letting the warmth seep through your skin. “God, I wish it had been you. I wish you were the one.”

His lips part, but it sounds as if his words catch in his throat. He blinks rapidly for a second, gulping. “Who said I can’t be?”

He leans closer.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your heart drops, but you give him a tiny nod, aching for him. “Jaemin.”

He stops right before your mouths connect, and he lets out a sigh.

“Jaemin,” you repeat. “I have to say something first.”

“Okay.”

“I thought I got over you, but it’s only because I didn’t see you for years. Being with you right now…I might still love you, and if you’re not kissing me for the same reasons, we should stop before we both get hurt again.” You clench your eyes shut, refusing to look at him while you make a fool of yourself.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond, kissing you hard. You melt into him, much like the ways you used to.

He shifts to cup both of your cheeks, his mouth working against yours in that perfect harmony you’d only ever found with him. You grasp onto his sleeves. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours.

“I…” he trails off, wetting his lips. “I want you.”

His voice is raspy as he says it, and it sends heat between your legs. You clench your thighs together.

“Me too,” you reply. “I want you, too.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course.” You lean forward to kiss him, and as your lips meet his, he pulls you onto his lap. Straddling him, you weave your fingers in his hair and hold him close to you.

His hands dip down to your ass, squeezing it and pushing you a bit forward. You groan when you feel his tongue slide across your bottom lip, and you give him access. Without a fight, you let him dominate your mouth. When you grind down, you gasp when you feel him hardening beneath you.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, only breaking the kiss for a split second.

He lets out a small whine when you pull away from him, but he’s quickly silenced when you tug your blouse over your head. While he stares at your black lace bra, you work on unbuttoning his shirt.

 “Not here,” he interrupts you, grabbing your hands. “There’s only one place I want to have you right now.”

He stands, holding onto you tightly while you wrap your legs around his waist. For a brief second, you think about what Hyuck would say to you right now—if he would be okay with it or if he would call it a mistake—but you chase the thought away as fast as it comes.

Jaemin carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He sets you delicately onto his bed, the familiar softness making you sigh. After he finishes taking his shirt off, he climbs on top of you, kissing your cheek, your jawline, down the pulse thundering in your neck, your collarbone, the swells of your breasts. He leaves marks on them before continuing his descent.

And then he’s at the hem of your jeans. He looks up at you, eyebrows raised. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Jaemin is a unique lover. He memorizes all the things you love, what makes you tick, and what he can do to elevate your pleasure. You’ve never had to fake it with him.

“It’s been a while for me,” he mutters. “It might not be…the best.” He clears his throat awkwardly, but pops the button and unzips the zipper.

“I’ll be happy with whatever you can give me,” you say.

His confidence returns after that, and he moves to tug your pants down your legs. You try your best to help him get them off of you, and he finally makes it back between your legs. He rubs his thumb over the obvious wet spot in your panties, humming to himself.

“Time doesn’t change how wet you get for me, huh?” He tsks, pressing a kiss to your clit through the fabric.

When he tugs them down, he admires you before leaning forward. You don’t expect the electric shock you feel when his mouth comes in contact with your core, but it has your back arching when he’s hardly done anything. Your hand immediately finds his hair, gripping it.

His tongue slides along your entrance, barely dipping inside before flicking your clit. He teases you like this a few times, but then his lips wrap around your sensitive bud and he sucks. His fingers trail up your thigh, and he extracts a moan from you when he pushes them inside you.

You inadvertently clench your thighs around his head. He moans against you, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting up your spine. You don’t mean to push him closer to you, but you can’t help it. Everything inside you feels like it’s crumbling and coming together at the same time under his ministrations.

You writhe much more than you should, and if it were anyone other than Jaemin, you’d be embarrassed.

“You taste so good,” he groans against you, thrusting his fingers faster. “So beautiful when you drip for me like this.”

He curls his fingers, and you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your pleasure. One last flick of his tongue on your clit has your back arching, the bubble bursting inside you as you grind into his face.

After he’s helped you ride through your high, you sit up, sending him back a bit. You quickly reach for his pants, squeezing the prominent bulge before undoing the button and zipper. He steps out of them , pulling you toward the edge of the bed.

“We don’t have to,” he says, breathless. “We can wait if you’re not sure.”

“Jaem,” you reply, cupping his cheeks. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do right now.” You tug him down, kissing him with all your might. You taste yourself on him, but it does little to bother you. All you want is him.

His tongue explores your mouth while he finds the clasp of your bra. He pulls it away from you, guiding you back down onto the bed. His kiss trails down once more, stopping at your breast so he can take your nipple into his mouth. He swirls it, teeth gently scraping.

Finally, he’s shoving his underwear down and grabbing a condom from his nightstand. He rolls it on before joining you on the bed once more, and you feel his tip prodding at your entrance.

“You’re absolutely sure?” He pauses, giving as serious of a look as he can muster. “If we do this, you’re mine again, you know that, right?”

“I’ve always been yours, Jaemin,” you remind him, lifting your hips. “That never changed.”

You barely have time to finish your sentence before he’s pushing inside you, face contorting with pleasure as he bottoms out. Heart pounding, you grip onto his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist.

“You okay?” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your neck. His eyelashes flutter across your skin, your body already slightly sticky from a thin sheen of sweat from your first indescribable high.

“Please move,” you whimper.

Jaemin moves slowly at first, allowing you both to get used to the feeling of being connected again. It’d be a long while since you’d done anything, too. He pants, nipping and sucking at the sensitive part of your throat.

His hips rock steadily, making sure to press as deep as he can every time. You're already a moaning mess below him, holding onto him for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’m not gonna last long.”

In response, you tighten your legs around him and flip him over, leaving him on his back and you on top. His eyes trail all over your body. You roll your hips. He sits up, grabbing your waist and pressing your chest against his, his dark, hardened gaze meeting yours as if this is a challenge.

“Lay back,” you tell him, running your hand down the hard planes of his chest as you gently push him back down. “Just watch.”

He gulps, but does as you say. His hands relax on you and he allows you to set your own pace. You lift up, shuddering at how he feels rubbing on your walls. His fingers twitch as if he wants to pull you back down.

“Baby,” he groans.

You set a steady pace, a bit faster than what his was. He traces down your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he moves downward until his thumb is pressed to your clit. You bite your lip to stop your moan, leaning back and bracing yourself on his thighs. He’s a mess beneath you, pleasure written across his face. It makes you want to do more, to work harder to bring him to his edge.

You’re so wet, slick sounds of him entering you fill the silence between sounds of euphoria. His thumb glides back and forth so easily, you have to pick up the speed. Everything around you begins to go fuzzy, and you know you’re approaching your second orgasm of the night much faster than you’d like.

Mid-way through your lift-up, your high hits, forcing you back down on his cock to finish with him buried deep inside, stretching you out. He sits back up, guiding you up and down as you slump onto his chest. He meets you halfway, thrusting up as he pulls you down.

He lets out a deep groan and holds you close to him, gently rocking his hips. He gasps for breath, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder.

“I love you,” Jaemin whispers. “Don’t go again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “I love you, too.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you both frown when you hear the elevator ding.

“Who is that?” you ask, climbing off of him on shaky legs to try and find your clothes.

“Not a clue.” Jaemin frowns, quickly disposing of the condom and putting his underwear and pants back on. He comes back to kiss your cheek. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He walks out into his living room, but you get dressed quickly so you can follow him out. You hear him conversing with someone, but you’re not sure who it is. You’re finally back in your jeans and shirt, so you head out to check out what’s going on.

You know your hairs a mess, your makeup is definitely smeared, and your face is red, and on top of all of that, you’re coming out of Jaemin’s room. Anyone with a brain would see what’s going on.

Chenle moves over to the couch and grabs a purse, which is presumably Yeeun’s, and claps Jaemin on the shoulder before he notices you.

“(Y/N)?” He blinks in surprise, glancing between you and Jaemin. “This is a new development.”

“It’s not really that new,” Jaemin says. “Um, we were kind of…busy, though. If you could…”

“Right.” Chenle shakes his head. “Right. You two have fun. Not too much fun, and make sure no one gets hurt this time, please?”

“Are you going to tell Donghyuck?” You scrunch up your nose.

“I’ll give you a twenty-four hour head start.” He grins, saluting you both. “Take care of each other, dipshits.”

You massage your forehead with a sigh, and Jaemin approaches you.

“You got dressed.” He pouts.

“Well, yeah. Somebody was here.” You chuckle.

“Were you wanting to leave?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s okay if you do, I just…thought we’d spend the night together.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him. “I told you I’m not leaving you again, Jaem. I meant it.”

“Then let’s get back to bed.” Jaemin massages your shoulders gently as he guides you back to his room.

He gets you a T-shirt to wear to bed, and once you’ve changed into it, you crawl onto his mattress and wait for him to join you. Instead, he stares at you, a smile on his face.

“I never thought I’d get you like this again.”

“You were always the one for me, Jaemin. It just wasn’t the right time.” You rest your head on one of his pillows, patting the spot next to you. “Now come over here.”

He finally listens, climbing under the comforter and pulling you to him until you’re pressed into his chest.

Kissing the top of your head, he hums. “We’ll have everything we ever wanted.”

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #jaemin #nct dream jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin scenario #na jaemin #nct jaemin #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios

[scarletwinterxx]

jaemin dad scenario #2

hellooooooo ~ not sure if y'all are familiar with this audio but I saw a cute tiktok vid earlier with this audio and I wanted to write one about it. plus I've been wanting to write another dad jaemin scenario so here we are😅 hope you like it!!!

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Jaemin hears the voices from downstairs, waiting for his wife and daughter to walk in the kitchen where he's currently baking cupcakes for Heejin's school day.

"Daddy, we're home"

He turns around to face the two of you, his two girls smiling widely at him. Heejin reaches out for him, immediately getting Heejin from you to give him her after daycare cuddles and kisses

"There's my baby princess, how was daycare today? Did you have so much fun? You didn't cry?" he ask in between kisses on her face. Meanwhile you watch the adorable scene between your husband and his mini me.

"She didn't cry, her teacher told me and she got a star"

"Wah you did? Can appa see it?" he asks the little girl in his arms, Heejin holds out her hand to show the star sticker on the back of her hand

"Wow, that's great! I'll give you a cupcake since you're very good" he promises Heejin, you give him a strict look but you let it slide.

You and Jaemin are on the same page when it comes to raising your daughter. You rarely have any arguments, but there are times Jaemin folds whenever Heejin wants something. Like giving her sweets, or letting her stay up past her bedtime.

You really can't beat the dad-daughter duo, they both know how to make you say yes. One look at you with their round eyes, you're nodding your head to whatever wish they have.

"Also Heejin got something to say" you tell Jaemin, walking towards the fridge to get a drink while Jaemin sets Heejin on the counter

"What is it, baby?"

"I got a boyfwiend" her little baby voice says happily.

Immediately Jaemin's smile changes while you try to hold in the laughter. He looks over at you then back at Heejin

"You don't have a boyfriend"

The little girl frowns at her dad, "I do have my boyfwiend" she says a bit louder this time

You can't help but laugh, Jaemin looks over at you with a glare clearly not amazed with the situation but to you it's very hilarious.

"You don't have a boyfriend" he sternly says, Heejin then sobs then reaches out for you.

You step closer to give her some comfort while Jaemin stands beside you, still not done with his argument with his 4 year old daughter.

"Aw love, what's wrong? who made you cry?" you ask her, patting her hair. The Little Na looking up at you with teary eyes

"Daddy says.. daddy says i don't have boyfwiend" she says in between sobs. At this point you can't help the big smile on your face, your daughter is being so adorable right now.

"But you do have a boyfriend?" you ask her, giggling.

Jaemin playfully pinches your waist, you brush him off while you watch Heejin nod her head "You do? What's his name?"

"Ji-hun" she says with her lips cutely pouting

You laugh again, enveloping her with a hug and kissing her head. Looking over at your husband to see him with an opposite expression on his face, "Yah, they're kids. Just go with it" you whisper

"She's four, she's my babygirl" he grumbles, taking Heejin from you to hold her again

"You're not allowed to have a boyfriend until you're 50" he tells her seriously. To little Heejin, it doesn't really make any sense apart from meaning she doesn't get to be right this time which she doesn't like.

This makes her cry again but doesn't move from her father's embrace

"Boys will make you cry then I have to beat them up then dad will have boo boo's. Do you want dad to have boo boo's?"

"No" she answers, hugging Jaemin quickly. She's always been a worried baby, if she feels like either of you are in danger she gets very anxious and starts to cry. When she was a baby, she hated seeing Jaemin on his bike. She thought he was going to fall.

"Okay then don't get a boyfriend okay? Pinky promise" he holds out his pinky towards Heejin, the little girl sealing the promise

"I can't even imagine how you would be when she actually starts dating" you tease him

"Don't start with me. I'll actually fight them"

You laugh, joining in their hug. Jaemin wraps one arm around you while the other holds Heejin, both of his girls in his arms.

"And I love you for that, but one day she's going be a big girl and would fall in love just like I did. With you" you tell him, giving him a kiss on the cheek

He looks at you, his eyes full of love and adoration like they always have ever since you met. "Well then as long as she falls in love with someone who loves her the way I love you, then I guess I'll be okay. That's still a maybe though, no one deserve our baby girl"

You smile at him, kissing him again this time on the lips then giving Heejin a kiss also on her chubby cheeks "I love you more, both of you. How about we finish baking these then let's have a cuddle night the three of us?"

"Sounds like heaven to me" He agrees, kissing both you and Heejin on the head before he sets Heejin down. The little one getting her standing stool ready to help with decorating the cupcakes but you both know she's after the sprinklers

"After I put her to bed, you and I are going to have a talk" he whispers

"What did I do" you laugh "Mhm, you can laugh now. Just wait until later"

#story #fic #nct #nct dream #nct jaemin #na jaemin #nct oneshot #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct dad #jaemin imagine #jaemin fluff #jaemin au #jaemin scenario #jaemin dad

[cafelattaes]

death by a thousand cuts | njm

summary : in which you find yourself watching as jaemin gradually becomes out of reach; forcing you to confront the painful reality that your story is heading towards an inevitable end, even if you’re not ready to admit it.

pairing : jaemin x fem! reader

genre : college au, angst

word count : 2.5k

playlist : the last time, you’re losing me, sad beautiful tragic

in your dimly lit room, the blue light from your phone screen cast a cold hue as you stared at the last message you received from jaemin. you had been seeing the same words for what felt like an eternity, as if they were mocking you, each repetition intensifying the sense of heartache and resignation you felt.

'i’ll be right back'

you let out a heavy sigh, carrying the burden of disappointment and frustration. a week had passed in the blink of an eye, and his silence felt louder than ever. you were stuck in a cycle of waiting, hoping things would change with each passing moment.

jaemin’s words had become an echo of broken promises. it wasn't the first time, but the disappointment still hurt. you glanced at the screen, feeling a mix of emotions. the exhaustion of always being the only one begging for effort and acknowledgement bore down on you. with a heavy heart, you set your phone down, facing the reality that you needed to let go of the relationship that no longer served you.

paper cuts had turned into gashes. the resentment over small things, continuously dismissed thinking they weren't significant enough, had boiled over, sending you to your gradual demise.

FIVE MONTHS AGO

'hey jaem, are you doing something right now? i miss you :('

‘i’m sorry, baby. i'm not done with my cases and research yet. also we’re studying for upcoming exams’

‘oh, okay. no worries! make sure to get enough rest when you’re home.’

‘you too, love’

a twinge of sadness and disappointment crept into your heart. while you understood the gravity of jaemin's aspirations and the difficult nature of dating a medical student, the challenges of your on-and-off relationship lingered. this was the longest you had gone through with jaemin without breaking up. resisting the urge to let past grievances resurface, you chose to keep most of your emotions to yourself, knowing that voicing them out was not going to make anything better and would only add to his stress. you didn't want to burden jaemin with your feelings or ignite conflicts during a time where his focus needed to be on his studies.

you busied yourself by scrolling through your phone and randomly navigating your friends' instagram stories. jeno's post grabbed your attention, featuring a group picture that included your boyfriend. however, your focus shifted when you noticed eunbin among the faces. her connection with jaemin as his childhood friend, as well as her evident feelings for him even before you entered the picture, weighed on your mind. you felt a bit uneasy thinking about the situation. you wondered if her being around might bring back unresolved feelings or make things even more complicated for you and jaemin.

you tossed your phone on the bed, redirecting your attention to something else to shake off the sudden drop in mood. even though you didn't want to feel jealous of eunbin, it was hard not to. she liked your boyfriend and confessed to him before you got together. despite his reassurances and the clear boundaries he set, a pang of jealousy still remained. you had to accept eunbin's role as one of his closest friends, a constant presence in his life. there was not much you could do to change it.

after a long day of busying yourself to focus more on your academic life, you felt your phone buzz with a text message from jaemin.

‘hey! are you free today? let’s go on a date :) i miss you a lot.’

‘sorry, im too tired to go out these days. i just want to rest after spending so much time studying’

‘oh no baby :( it’s fine. do you want anything? we can just stay and laze around all day in your place instead. but only if you want to’

‘okay’

an hour later, you heard a buzz at your door, and there was jaemin, wearing a smile and holding some of your favorite snacks. you took them from him as he settled into your place. while you prepared the food, jaemin came up from behind, giving you a hug and planting a gentle kiss on the back of your head. he then rested his chin on your shoulder.

"we don't see each other a lot these days. i missed you so much," your heart tightened, a sudden rush of longing and sadness enveloping you. you missed him a lot too. since you got back together, you've been suppressing a lot of your thoughts to avoid another breakup. however, the past few months have been challenging, and you felt like even the smallest thing might cause you to break down emotionally.

“i missed you too,” you whispered in reply.

jaemin was not clueless. you've been together for more than two years and he could easily sense if there was something off about you. he noticed that you began to distance yourself from him. your responses to his messages were brief and dry, picking up on the growing disconnection. he, too, was afraid to bring it up, opting to ignore the underlying problems that had been bothering both of you for a while. he would rather pretend as if everything was fine than risk a conversation and face the possibility of losing you again.

he feared that if you two were to break up once more, it might truly be the end. a sharp stab of pain coursed through his chest with that thought.

THREE MONTHS AGO

you were starting to fall asleep when your peace was suddenly interrupted by your phone ringing. noticing it was a call from mark, you answered.

‘mark?’

‘hey, y/n, sorry to bother you. can you pick jaemin up?’

‘huh? where?’

‘we’re at a bar right now, i’ll text you the address. i can’t bring all of us home and i also drank a little. hope you don’t mind.’

‘yeah, it’s fine. i’ll be on my way.’

‘thanks y/n.’

you left your place once you received the address from mark. you arrived at the bar a little later, scanning the place for the familiar group of guys. you spotted mark, struggling to separate himself from haechan's grasp.

“hey.”

“oh, y/n, you’re here.” jeno waved at you. “jaemin, your girlfriend’s here.” jeno shook him violently, prompting him to get up.

“y/n, did you know? jaemin said that you’ve been-“ haechan groaned in pain as mark slapped his back to stop him from talking.

“you guys should go. jaemin is dead drunk, he almost fell asleep on the bathroom.”

“alright, we’re off. you guys take care on your way home.” you bid farewell to them as you held jaemin for support.

the night air was cool as you stepped outside, hailing for a cab. after some effort, you managed to get him inside, settling into the backseat. jaemin was mostly asleep on the ride home. despite some difficulty getting him out and bringing him to your place, you eventually managed to settle him on the couch. you took off his shoes before getting a damped towel and offering him a glass of water.

“jaemin, do you need anything?” you asked him quietly while wiping his face with the towel. he was silent for a while as you helped him into a more comfortable position.

“you’ve been spending a lot of time with eric,” he murmured. you raised your eyebrows in confusion. you’ve only seen the guy twice this week for some club related-activities.

“stop seeing him, or he might get the wrong idea.”

oh.

jaemin had mentioned before that he didn't like eric, claiming that whenever you two took a break, the latter guy saw it as an opportunity to make a move on you. however, jaemin misinterpreted eric's intention, being one of your friends who comforted you during your breakups. while he hinted at liking you at some point, he respected your boundaries and never attempted to cross the line. all your friends knew that jaemin was the center of your world, even at times when you were supposed to forget about him.

“we’ll talk about that tomorrow when you’re sobered up. you need to get some rest now.” you said, standing up to get him a pillow and a blanket. however, he held your wrist, pulling you back to sit on the couch.

“you’ve changed…” he uttered out of the blue, and a sigh escaped your lips. jaemin had a tendency to ramble when he was drunk. it seemed best to let him express whatever was on his mind.

"you used to make time for me, no matter how busy you got. you always found a way for us to spend time together, even when i was swamped with tasks. but now... you're not as affectionate as before and it feels like you love me a little less. you don't get mad, and you don't seem to care even when i try to ignore you on purpose to get your attention. are you getting sick of me?"

your breath shuddered at his sudden confession. it seemed like the first time jaemin was the first to address your situation while being completely honest about his feelings. it never even crossed your mind that he was ignoring you intentionally. up until now, you had always been the one initiating the difficult conversations. every time you bared your soul, hoping jaemin would make things right, it often ended up having the opposite effect. despite his attempts to take your feelings into consideration and provide solace and affirmations, the impact seemed to fade after a few days, leaving you feeling unheard. eventually, you started to question yourself if you were maybe asking for too much. so you stopped trying, which was the turning point that led to your last breakup.

when jaemin asked to get back together, you couldn't bring yourself to refuse, just like all those times you had taken him back before. despite of the emotional turmoil in your relationship, your love for jaemin remained unwavering. being with him, even with the fights and his occasional neglect, felt a thousand times better than not being with him at all. but now, you weren't sure if you could still bear the pain that came with loving him. a sense of uncertainty settled heavily in your heart, feeling a lump formed in your throat.

“you can’t blame me for getting tired when it feels like i’m the only one trying,” your tears began to flow freely, feeling overwhelmed as all your frustrations and hurt hit you all at once. “you keep saying you love me, but your actions say otherwise. i’ve grown sick of showing my love while not seeing you put in the same effort as i do. sometimes, i want to ask if you still love me the way you once did. because if there’s anyone who changed, jaemin, it’s you. you stopped trying the moment our relationship became too comfortable.” you wiped your tears, the sound of muffled sobs echoing in the silence.

“you have no idea how much i’ve been bottling up my feelings. the pain that has built over these years of being with you is suffocating. i want to let out my frustrations, scream at you, and demand your attention, especially when you seem to have time for everyone else but me. even though i know how busy you can get, i can't help but find it unfair, because for you, i would drop everything. i’ve been keeping count of all the times you claimed to be too occupied to be there for me when i needed you the most, only for me to find out that you were hanging out with your friends. your world doesn’t have to revolve around me, but i just want to feel that i still hold a place in your life.”

jaemin's glassy eyes remained fixed on you. even in his intoxicated state, he became acutely aware of all the things he had done wrong in the relationship and the impact it had on you. he had always played it safe, choosing to overlook the signs and letting you suffer on your own. he didn't realize the gravity of the damage he had inflicted on the person he claimed to love. it broke his heart taking in how far he had allowed things to go. with tears streaming down his face, his hand reached out for you.

“i’m so sorry i made you feel that way… i’m sorry for everything,” he whispered in remorse, drawing you into his arms. closing his eyes, he kissed your forehead tenderly as a silent plea for forgiveness. his chest felt heavy with the weight of regret as the painful reality sank in. he wished he could shelter you from every mistake he had ever made.

“i don’t want your apology. i just want us to go back to the way things were before.” your words carried the weight of longing for the happiness that once defined your relationship.

but the air was thick with unspoken truth. you both knew, that no matter what happens now, the two of you can no longer return to how things used to be.

PRESENT

three weeks had passed since the last time you and jaemin spoke. despite sharing tears together that night he got drunk, not much had changed. jaemin became cautious, and you were left wondering whether he would do something to alter the state of your relationship, considering you already said your piece. yet, it appeared that both of you had silently acknowledged the reality that there was little you could do, having allowed things to reach a point beyond saving.

you found yourselves in a tug-of-war, each waiting for the other to end the relationship. however, you hoped he would be the one to pull the trigger this time, because he never made an attempt to ask you to stay. if you were the one to do it, you feared weakness might overcome you if he were to return again. so, you wished for him to take the decisive step to allow you to truly feel that everything was over for both of you. yet, deep down, a small part of you remained hopeful that he would defy your expectations and fight for what was left.

but even when it came down to it, jaemin couldn't muster the courage to call it quits. in your mind, you were begging him not to leave you like this. after everything you had been through together, he couldn't possibly walk away without saying anything.

but as the hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, the truth of the matter set in; you must move on to the next phase of your life without reaching a conclusion to the final chapter of your story. until the very end, jaemin couldn't find the words to cut the ties that bound you. instead, he chose the easy way out, one that was hard only for you, leaving behind a heartbreak that time alone couldn't mend and abandoning you to tend to the pieces of your shattered self.

you were left with no choice but to miss him for the rest of your life, each passing moment a reminder of the void he left behind.

#jaemin scenario #jaemin imagine #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin x y/n #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #nct dream fic #nct dream angst #jaemin angst #jaemin x fem reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin #nct dream imagines #nct fic #nct dream

[dalivanmagritte]

NCT FIC REC : NA JAEMIN

back to the nct fic rec

new town, new me (fav, smut, weewolf!au, witch!au)

new habits (fav, smut, highschool!au)

ghosting you (fav, smut, fluff, realestate!au, entrepreneur!au)

by the window (fav, smut)

can you stay up all nigh? (smut)

one more rep (smut, perv!au)

be there for you (smut, doctor!au)

take a bite (smut, buffy!jaemin)

can you stay up all night? (Smut)

thin walls (smut, roommates!au)

go there with you (smut, roommates!au)

when the stars align (fluff, guard!au, princess!au)

jaemin and the yule ball (smut, hogwarts!au)

chill kill (smut, fluff, angst, hogwarts!au)

hogwarts!jaemin (fluff, hogwarts!au)

a dreams come true (fluff, cupid!jaemin)

dedication (fluff, crack, hogwarts!au)

what do you desire? (fluff, hogwarts!au)

cuddle with me (fluff, hogwarts!au)

quest for romance (fluff, demigod!au, greek mythology!au)

love and war (fluff, demigod!au, mythology!au)

captain sparkle fingers revives me from the dead (fluff, angstish, demigod!au, mythology!au)

of love and lust (fluff, demigod!au, mythology!au)

day8: seduction (fluff)

his sundress (smut)

strawberry lemonade (smut)

high sex drive (smut)

sweet spot (smut, masseur!jaemin)

love on the floor (fluff, smutish, office!au)

fake dating! (fluff, bff!jaemin, fake dating!au)

barbie girl (smut)

love on the floor (ongoing serie, smut, fluff, office!au, chaebol!jaemin)

buff jaemin (smut)

hey angel (smut)

making you feel comfortable (smut)

glossy lips (smut)

sitting pretty (smut)

kitty girl (smut)

catgirl princess part.2 (smut, catgirl)

i love to get 2 on (smut, biker!au, streetracer!au)

biker jaemin (smut, biker!au)

truth or dare (smut)

start of something new (smut)

princess treatment (fluff, smut)

excessive lube (smut)

high sex drive (smut)

cockwarming (smut)

clueless (smut, roommate!au))

pillow princess (smut)

daddy (smut)

smile (you're on camera) (smut)

to love (fluff, suggestive)

mean obsessed jaemin (smut)

big big jaemin (smut)

catgirl (smut, catgirl!au)

succession (smut, ceo!au?, succesion!au)

jaemin loves messy pussy (smut)

jaemin's chain (smut)

and they were roommates (finished serie, smut, college!au)

go! (smut, abo!au)

tutor alpha (smut, abo!au)

dreaming (go continuation, smut abo!au)

angel baby (smut, fluff, abo!au)

pretty girl (smut, fluff, abo!au)

trauma (smut, angst, mafia!au)

sextape (x jeno and haechan?) (smut)

the sequel x jeno (smut, phonesex!au, ghostface!au)

sos x jeno (smut, abo!au)

i'm a mouse duh! x jeno (smut)

they're roommates x jeno (smut)

fortuity : a chance encounter part.1 part.2 (fluff, royal!au, prince!au)

just so you know x jeno (smut)

sos x jeno (smut, abo!au)

cookie jar x jeno (smut, stepbrother!au)

Pervert jaemin (smut)

sharing is caring x mark (smut)

popular guy! jaemin part.1 part.2 part.3 (smut)

can you handle it? x johnny, jaehyun, jeno (smut)

destruction in my mind (smut, yandere!au, kidnapping!au)

mean coworker! (dubcon, smut, barista!au)

a little help (dubcon, smut, doctor!au)

give into things i (don't) want to (smut, dubcon)

blur (dubcon, smut)

son of the landlord (dubcon, smut)

the walls are thin x jeno (dubcon, smut)

prey (DUBCON, smut, horror!au, kidnapping)

sleep therapy (DUBCON, smut, demon!au)

can your hear me? (DUBCON, smut, perv!au, stalker!au)

#nct #jaemin #fluff #smut #fic rec #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin x reader #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #nct fic #nct jaemin #jaemin oneshot #jaemin imagine #nct scenario #jaemin scenario

[yougotthatbilly]

caught up (m)

→ members: jung jaehyun and na jaemin (ft. make a wish line) → genre: angst, smut → playlist: temptations x ryan trey, kiss it better x rihanna, gave your love away x majid jordan, don’t x bryson tiller, wicked games x kiana ledé → word count: 16k → warnings: toxic relationships (oc is dumb in love & delusional for a while), cheating, manipulation, codependency, unhealthy coping mechanisms, trifling friends, a glimpse of oral, unprotected sex (let’s be safe irl pls), praise, etc. | oc is basically chaotic neutral  ↳summary: Jaemin is all that you want, all that you need, no matter what. But lines get a bit blurry when you’re introduced to his friends.

“And then he almost busted his ass right in front of her.” 

Lucas is embarrassing Shotaro by animatedly telling the story of how Shotaro was trying to be smooth and spit game, yet failed. The man of the hour rolls his eyes, laughing along with everyone else in the kitchen nonetheless, because Lucas is an amazing storyteller. 

“I wish y’all could’ve seen the look on her face, oh my God.”

Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his head, but he’s a bit distracted by his curiosity. 

Lightly hitting Doyoung on the arm to get his attention, he leans into his friend’s side to quietly ask: “Do you know her?”

You’re leaned against the countertop, chest resting atop your folded arms, not much of your body or outfit shown from his angle aside from the brown turtleneck and the gold jewelry on your wrists, neck, and ears. Completely engaged in what the tall male is telling everyone, you smile and nod, nose scrunching when you laugh. 

“Nope,” Doyoung answers with a shrug. “She’s pretty, though.”

Jaehyun scoffs. “She’s gorgeous.”

Before Doyoung can say anything else, Jaemin walks up behind you, hands on your hips. You stand and press your back against his chest, your smile getting more sedated and eyes drooping a little as you rest the back of your head on Jaemin’s shoulder. He whispers something into your ear, lips brushing against the lobe, and then you’re rolling your eyes, the curve of your lips never dropping. 

Doyoung really does try to keep his laughter in. Jaehyun side-eyes his friend when things get more intimate, Jaemin kissing your temple. Feels like he’s intruding at this point.

“Wait,” Doyoung says, head tilted. “Aren’t you and-”

“It’s complicated.”

Taeyong, who’s been sitting on the other side of Jaehyun, rolls his eyes. “There’s nothing complicated about her being in love with you and you just using her for sex and companionship, Jaehyun.”

He has a point. Jaehyun has love for her and truly does enjoy her company, so that’s where his friend is wrong, but Jaehyun is kind of stringing her along with how he’s made it clear their bond is too toxic to ever be official again. Yet his actions contradict that. He is very aware that it isn’t healthy, especially for her, but it’s their thing.

“That’s fucked up.”

And if Doyoung of all people is saying something is fucked up, you know it really is. 

It is what it is, though.

—

A pair of hands gently grab onto your hips from behind, pulling you back a little, and you stand to full height, melting into your boyfriend. The back of your head against his shoulder gives Jaemin the perfect opportunity to dip down and whisper in your ear, so as not to interrupt Lucas.

“Still doing alright?” Jaemin asks after coming back from the bathroom, pressing his body flush against your back. 

For this being your first time meeting his group of friends, you’re doing fine. You didn’t really know what to expect, but you figured they’d be fun to be around since your boyfriend spends most of his free time with them. At first you didn’t want to involve outsiders for a while because it typically gets messy when other people get involved, but yesterday Jaemin told you his friends wanted to come over and watch the game, and it was decided that it was a good time to finally step into his world and you’d stay to meet them. Admittedly, a bit of pride swelled in your chest at the two of you taking your relationship to the next level. To be shown off, in a sense, to the people Jaemin cares a lot about, whose opinions Jaemin values. 

It means a lot, especially since things were a bit rough between the two of you a couple weeks ago. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nod slightly. “I’m having a good time.”

“You wanna finish what they interrupted once they leave?” The blond asks quietly, his soft lips brushing against your ear. You roll your eyes, but still hum in affirmation, to which he laughs at and kisses your temple. 

When you tune back into the conversation around you, the story is finished and Shotaro is talking about how his trip back home was. Your eyes wander around, taking in the amount of friends your boyfriend has, and you make eye contact with one of the guys you haven’t heard a peep out of as he’s moving his brown hair out of his eyes. He doesn’t look away, and when you don’t either, his eyebrow lifts.

This is a very attractive friend group.

You nod in lieu of a greeting, to which he grins at before returning the gesture. The guy next to him says something that wipes the grin right off of his handsome face, eyes no longer on you in favor of glaring at his friend. At the break of contact you rejoin the conversation, playing with your boyfriend’s hand and laughing at how the friends all bicker with one another.

“Hey!” A pretty woman with short, dark hair greets after opening the door Jaemin just knocked on. A quick hug between the two is exchanged and when her eyes fall on you she’s smiling wide. “You’re gorgeous, wow. I’m Yeri. Come in!”

You introduce yourself as you kick your Crocs off, then you’re led into the living room to join everyone else. Greetings are exchanged and you get a hug from the red-head you recall being Doyoung’s girlfriend.

Apparently, Jaemin’s friends enjoyed your company and they’d requested you come along to their next game night. Jaemin did his best to persuade you, telling you how the other girlfriends always tag along and how you’d get along with them well, especially since you said you wanted more girly friends and they always go get their nails and lashes done together and so on and so forth. And now here you are.

Jaemin leaves you in the living room to go get the two of you some drinks to catch up since you’d arrived almost an hour late and the red-head plops down next to you.

“Your outfit is so cute,” she gushes, her hand gesturing you from head to toe. “I just love your vibe. Do you mind me asking where you shop?”

Yeri ends up on the other side of who you now know is Joy and conversation flows nicely, even after Jaemin reappears with your drink. He gets sucked into the game Xiaojun is playing, and you guess everyone isn’t here yet because there’s a huge untouched handmade board game in the middle of the floor, little playing pieces to the side, and plastic shot cups on the other side. 

You’ve been sipping from your red plastic cup slowly, and halfway into it, two more people walk into the living room. Doyoung and the other guy that came to Jaemin’s. You never caught his name. 

They walk in your direction and both women stand up, Joy reaching for Doyoung and Yeri reaching for the brunet. You put the pieces together on who is in a relationship with who since the details weren’t given to you by Jaemin earlier. 

“Hey,” the brunet greets you after a quick hug and kiss with Yeri and she’s made her way to the kitchen with the couple, his voice deep and smooth. He takes Joy’s seat. “I forgot to introduce myself last time. I was high as hell.”

“You’re always high as hell,” Jaemin snorts. 

Jaehyun side-eyes your boyfriend for a brief second before his attention is back on you. 

“Jaehyun.” He sticks his hand out for you, and you grab it, just barely shaking it as you give him your name. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, even after you’re done shaking it. “Sorry, your hands are just really soft.”

You smile politely and thank him, slowly removing your hand from his hold, now using both to hold your cup. Something about his presence makes you breathe a little heavier. You’re not intimidated nor uncomfortable, but his gaze does make your heart beat a little faster.

“She makes her own lotion and shea butter,” Jaemin informs him on your behalf, half paying attention to the interaction, half trying to beat Xiaojun at the basketball game they’re playing. “You should get some for Yeri since her birthday is coming up.”

It’s hard to read the look on Jaehyun’s face when he glances at your boyfriend for a short moment again, but it disappears just as soon as it appeared when he’s looking at you. 

“Got a website I can look at?” he asks, body now completely facing you as he pulls his phone out.

“I do.” You nod. “And most of my reviews are on Instagram if you wanna look at those.”

The brunet hands you his phone to type in your business page’s handle. 

“Go ahead and follow yourself, too.” 

You go to your business page and tap follow before handing him his phone back with your website on the screen. His fingers brush against your own as he takes his device back–which he does slowly–and the look in his eye is curious. 

Jaehyun licks his lips before finally paying attention to the phone in his hand, and at the break of contact you find yourself exhaling a bit harder than usual. 

Throughout the duration of the night, you catch Jaehyun’s eye. When everyone clinks shot glasses before downing the burning liquid. When you’re simply chilling on your phone, and especially during the smoke session. 

When you’re in the kitchen looking for a non-alcoholic drink, Jaehyun walks in, heading straight to the pantry. 

“You know,” you begin, waiting until he turns his head to you, “you have a staring problem.”

The slight grin on your face shows him you’re saying it lightheartedly, so he chuckles, grabbing a bag of pretzels before giving you his full attention. 

“You don’t seem to mind.” He glances in the direction of everyone else still in the living room before going back to you. “You give me a cute little smile when you catch me.”

“It’s polite to smile when you make eye contact with someone, Jaehyun.”

“It’s hard not to admire you,” Jaehyun admits, opening the bag and leaning against the wall. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll never look at you again.”

You snort at how monotonous the dramatic statement is said and roll your eyes. 

“I’m not uncomfortable, I just feel like you’re also trying to figure me out.”

“And if I am?” 

You lift a brow and take a much needed sip of cranberry juice. “I’d say good luck. And be careful because your girlfriend is already staring at us.” 

He checks and confirms that Yeri is indeed tuned into the conversation that she can’t hear from this distance, then laughs like he’s not surprised. 

“It’s innocent,” he claims before popping a pretzel into his mouth. “Everyone knows how I am around new people.” 

“And how’s that?”

“Observant.”

You believe it. But it’s clearly a bit deeper than that. 

“Well,” you exhale, standing up straight to take your leave. “I hope you don’t get too bored with your… observing.”

It’s not creepy. Not overbearing. 

It would be subtle if it weren’t for how often you meet his eye. 

Honestly, it’s kind of cute. 

Scrolling through your notifications after a much needed nap, a follow as well a message request from user _jeongjaehyun on your personal account catches your attention. 

A few of the girls followed you the last time you were with them so you don’t think too hard about it. You follow him back. 

hey love. i’d like to put in an order for a couple of lotions if possible

Hey Jaehyun, you can put in the order through that account. 

Jaehyun reads the message before you can swipe out of the message thread, so you just wait as he types his response.

my hands will be as soft as yours, right?

You roll your eyes, letting out an amused exhale. 

Become a regular customer and you’ll see.  If you have any more questions, ask on the other account.

yes ma’am

Soon after, you get a message on your business account from him. 

do you deliver or prefer pick ups? 

I deliver. I don’t let strangers know where I live lol.

The answers to most of his questions are on your website, but you let him slide. You don’t have anything to do other than a homework assignment that’s due at 11:59 tonight, but you don’t plan on looking at that document for another few hours. 

You sit up against your headboard to look through your DMs and answer other people’s questions. 

would you consider me a stranger?

I would.  But not in a stranger danger way since you’re friends with Jaemin.

Idk I think we’ll be friends soon

You raise your brow at his message, but wait for him to finish typing his next one. 

I fwu all of us do

You double tap the last message. 

That’s good to know. Lmk if you have any more questions about the lotions. 

You whine, throwing a quiet, mini temper tantrum.

Why the hell do you have to take Statistics twice for a Psychology degree? And why did you have to leave your calculator in your room? 

But in the midst of your tantrum, you remember Jaemin has that TI 84 calculator app on his phone when you see the device charging. 

“Babe!” you call out to him in the kitchen, pushing yourself out of the desk chair to walk to his bed. “Can I use that calculator app on your phone really quickly?” 

“Yeah, go ahead!” he responds loudly. “And dinner will be ready in like 10 minutes.”

“Okay, thank you!”

His phone is on 87 percent, which is enough in your book, so you unplug it and plop back into the chair, lifting the device up to your face to unlock it. 

You swipe out of the app that’s already opened to get to the app you need, but a bell with a line crossed through it on a message thread catches your eye before the app is gone. There’s a quick internal battle that takes place, part of you wants to respect his privacy, another part reminds you that the last time you looked through his phone to find something, you found exactly what you were looking for. Your brain knows your heart wouldn’t be able to handle bad news right now, especially since the two of you have been doing so well after last time, and your gut tells you that you won’t be happy with what you find. 

But the opportunity has presented itself to you a little too perfectly. 

You open his messages back up, and right at the top is his muted message thread with Yeri. With your heart already pounding in your chest, you tap it. 

Jaemin: Sometimes i wish we had more time

Yeri: it’s okay jaems, we’re still good friends 

Jaemin: but I can’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like

Yeri: That’s understandable. You never know what the future holds You have a cool gf now, though.

You recall a conversation from months ago, where he admitted to hooking up with one of his close friends a few times, but you didn’t care to ask questions on specifics, especially when it was before the two of you became official. But now you’re putting the pieces together, and you don’t know if you want to throw his phone at the wall or cry.

The timestamps show this conversation took place right after he came back from her and Seulgi’s apartment earlier, and you don’t have to scroll up to see more of the conversation to know the context. That last message rubs you the wrong way, and the fact he had opened the message but didn’t respond a couple hours ago only furthers the bad feeling.

He had time to before you came over. 

You make your way to the kitchen, his phone still in hand, and lean against the counter. Jaemin turns to say something, but you speak up before he gets the chance. 

“What exactly is it that you wish you had more time for?”

He tilts his head in confusion. “Huh?”

You open his phone and read, “‘Sometimes I wish we had more time.’ More time for what, Jaemin?”

Panic flashes in his eyes before he composes himself. 

“I was just reminiscing about how the group’s dynamic was last year.”

You nod with a hum. “Before me, right?”

He’s choosing his words carefully and taking an awfully long time to do so, which only further confirms what your gut is telling you. 

“When all of us could chill with no limitations.”

“She’s the one you fucked, isn’t she?”

You sound insecure and you hate it. But this is the third time he’s put you in a situation where another woman has made you question how Jaemin actually feels about you. 

“What?”

You almost mock him, but you control your pettiness. “The friend you told me you fucked. It’s Yeri.”

“Why are you bringing up the past?” 

You really hoped you were wrong.

Cutting your eyes at his attempt to flip the script, you drop his phone down onto the countertop carelessly. “Why exactly did you have to mute the conversation?”

“I knew if you saw it you’d think it was something it wasn’t, so I just wanted to avoid it.”

You’re the one tilting your head now, trying to see how that makes even a little bit of sense. Especially when this isn’t the first time you’ve come across muted conversations. It just hits a little harder this time because you’ve been around Yeri multiple times and would consider her an acquaintance at this point. And because you haven’t had (or at least listened to) a gut feeling in a while. 

“So instead of just not having the conversation, you decided to hide it. Once again.”

You don’t understand how such simple concepts fail to stick with him. You shouldn’t have to constantly repeat yourself when it comes to voicing what bothers you. Sneaky conversations that one feels the need to hide from their significant other falls under the category of cheating. It’s not rocket science.

“Why do you keep going through my phone?” he tries again. You laugh darkly. 

You don’t even bother to respond, you just walk to his room to grab your stuff. He’s hot on your heels the whole way when he realizes flipping the situation on you won’t work this time. 

“It really isn’t like that. We were all talking about it when I went over earlier. Just reminiscing about all the late nights and get-togethers but that doesn’t take away from the present.”

“Well,” you laugh, packing your laptop and textbook. “You never know what the future holds.”

“Baby don’t be like that.” Jaemin tries to stop you from gathering your belongings but you dodge his touch as if it would burn your skin. His body blocks his door, hands out as he practically begs you to hear him out. You’re tired of hearing him out and there’s no way in hell you’re staying with him tonight like you two originally planned. 

You find yourself at the gym, not quite ready to go back home because you know you’ll cry as soon as your head hits the pillow. So you’re using up the rest of your energy here so you’ll be too tired to even shed when you get back home. 

“Not to give unsolicited advice,” you hear a familiar voice say in your direction as you squat down. “but if you’re doing RDLs, your form is off.”

You look at Jaehyun, standing up straight. You regret not stopping by your place to grab your earphones. “What’s off?”

The attitude is strong in your voice and you don’t mean to direct it to him, but why now of all times does he want to cross paths with you at the gym. You’ve literally never seen him here in the three years you’ve attended this university, yet when you’re emotionally fucked up over your boyfriend, his friend who just so happens to be dating the woman who’s also the reason for your mood is here.

“A lot,” he so graciously explains. “I can show you the right form, if you want.”

You almost say no because you don’t want anything to do with Jaemin or anyone he’s associated with right now, but having the wrong form can lead to unpleasant results. Even in your emotional state, you can weigh the importance in matters. You shrug. 

You haven’t been seeing the results you expected after two weeks of trying this exercise, since the TikTok girlies rave over it. 

And, he’s just trying to help. He isn’t his girlfriend nor your boyfriend. 

Jaehyun steps into your bubble of personal space. “Gonna touch you to show you. Cool?”

You nod.

“You sure? You look like you wanna throw a weight at my head,” he jokes, but continues nonetheless. 

“Yeah,” you sigh,“ just one of those days.”

His hand presses in between your shoulder blades, his touch cool on your burning skin. “Roll your shoulders back.” You do as told, the hand sliding down slowly to the middle of your lower back. “Your back was too arched, straighten it and tighten your core– yeah like that. You working on glutes?”

Another nod. 

“Slightly bend your knees, but keep your posture.” Jaehyun continues to guide you, hand slipping further down to your ass. You look at him through the mirror and he meets your eye before he’s stepping back once you’re positioned correctly. Confusion rises when his hand stays at the level of your butt–thumb up, mid air, a good few steps away. “Push back into my hand.”

“You want me to push my ass into your hand?” 

“Yeah.” There’s a silent stare-off through the mirror. “You want to fuck your back up?”

Without a word, you position your weights and push back until you touch his hand, then rise back up to bent knees and a neutral spine. You do it several more times, going slower at the push back when he advises you to do so, and you already feel the difference. There’s a slight burn in your glutes rather than your thighs now and you don’t feel like you’re straining your back.

You finish your rep, Jaehyun having moved his hand away halfway through in favor of eyeing your form. 

“Feel better?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Thanks.”

He nods back, eyes still glued to your body. He’s very clearly checking you out from the back, you feel and see him doing so. 

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with. I’ll be over there,” he says, pointing to the bench press area. “I can be a listening ear or even a shoulder to lean on.”

He takes his leave and you’re left feeling warm and confused at the better mood you’re in from the short interaction. 

Weak. 

That’s the best way to describe you, especially right now. 

But what else would you do in this very moment, other than pull your boyfriend closer with the hand that’s threaded in his hair, tilting your head to the side to offer him more skin to kiss. 

“I’m sorry baby,” Jaemin says for the third time since you opened your door and let him in your apartment. His lips are so gentle on your neck, brushing against your sweet spot. “I wasn’t thinking. It won’t happen again.”

“You promise?” you ask shakily, eyes closing when his teeth softly nip you. 

He hums. “Promise. I only want you.”

You wrap both arms around his neck, allowing yourself to be lifted and carried to your bedroom, legs wrapped around Jaemin’s waist. You shower the side of his face in kisses, elated to hear those words come out of your boyfriend’s mouth. 

“Really?”

The blond sets you down on your bed, eyes wide and seeming so sincere as he looks down at your seated, awaiting form.

“Let me show you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Communication was close to nothing today, just him texting you an apology and telling you he loves you before asking if he could stop by to pick up his shoes he left over at your place the other day. You handed them to him as soon as you opened the door, not wanting to see him for long because you knew his presence would interrupt your thoughts about what happened a couple days ago. Jaemin is your weakness, he’s who you crave even when he’s the cause of your sadness and anger. 

Hands reached out for him, you cup his face and slant your lips over his when he bends down to your level. The bed dips as his knees sink into the mattress to get close to you, to lay you down and hover over you. 

His touch relieves any stress built up within you. His voice soothes any anxiety you feel. 

It’s so easy to forgive him when he’s kissing down your body until he gets to the apex of your thighs, pulling your panties off, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and indulging in your taste. When he makes you shiver and come on his tongue.  

When he looks down at you with so much desire as he lines his tip up with your entrance.

“Only you, baby,” Jaemin repeats, pushing in with a hiss. “So tight. How could I want anyone else?”

You moan at his promise and praise, making grabby hands at him to bring him into you, to hold him close and tight to you as he thrusts into you. He settles on one forearm by your head before he takes hold of your hip, fingers gripping tightly.

“You mean it?” you whimper in his ear, threading your fingers in his hair. 

Jaemin buries his face in your neck, losing himself in the feeling of your walls. 

“I don’t need anyone else.” His hips move quicker, the sound of his skin slapping against yours louder than the noises slipping from you. “You don’t need anyone else.”

Your brow furrow in confusion. 

Since the moment you met him, you never wanted anyone else. He’s had all of your attention since that night a mutual acquaintance introduced the two of you. He’s had most of your time. All you’ve ever wanted was him, his attention. His love. 

“I only need you,” you say around a moan. “You– shit. Jaemin you know that.”

“Just me?”

You nod fast, breath hitching. The force behind his thrusts gets more intense at your validation and all you can do is nod, taking the onslaught of pleasure. 

It should just be Jaemin and you. 

“You look good in green.”

You raise a brow at the intruding voice, not needing to turn around to know who said it and how you’re being looked at. 

“Thanks,” you deadpan.

A deep chuckle sounds closer than his compliment and you look boredly into his eyes when he appears in front of you, on the other side of the kitchen island. 

“You don’t fuck with me,” The quirk of your glossy lips steals his attention for a second, you notice. “Have I done something?”

You definitely ignored him the few couple times you crossed paths with him on campus. And didn’t care to play it off like you just didn’t notice him. The situation at the gym wasn’t much, but it was enough. 

The touching, the staring. The fact you actually enjoyed it instead of stopping it and just telling him to leave. 

It felt like a betrayal to your boyfriend, even after what happened thirty minutes prior to seeing Jaehyun. Even after multiple instances of your boyfriend being overly friendly and attention seeking with other women, and disrespecting your relationship. 

The guilt made you pretend Jaehyun didn’t exist. If you saw him while walking, no you didn’t. 

And you chalked it up to just enjoying the external validation. It’s nice to know you’re still sought after while in a relationship, especially when the man you’re with has a habit of admiring women outside of what the two of you have. 

But you’re not petty. Not one to try and get even. If you forgive Jaemin and accept his apology, you have to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that after seeing how badly his actions hurt you, he won’t do it again. 

Every relationship has its ups and downs. What you’re experiencing is normal. You’ve seen worse. Your parents’ and siblings’ relationships have suffered so much more. 

Plus, Jaemin’s young. A couple years younger than you. He’s going to fuck up and he deserves grace. You love each other. 

“Jaehyun,” you start, putting your phone down to give him the attention he clearly wants from you right now. “I don’t want to play this game.”

You’re not in the mood. The only reason you’re here at Lucas’ place with everyone is because you told him you’d be there for his pre-birthday celebration and you’re not one to go back on your word. Even when you and your boyfriend aren’t on the best of terms because of a dumb argument that took place earlier. You stepped away from everyone so you could regroup with yourself and continue to put on your best face. Not to have a one on one with Jaemin’s friend who clearly wants you and doesn’t care about any of the relationships or friendships involved between the two of you. 

Jaehyun has the audacity to put on a confused expression, but that unimpressed look on his face seems to never disappear. “What game?”

“You have a girlfriend.” You remind him instead of doing exactly what you just said you wouldn’t do, settling your forearms on the marble to lean against it. The brunet mirrors your position, his hand almost touching your own and face a lot closer than it should be. You hate to admit it, but he smells amazing. 

“Not really.”

And if you had any doubts about what was so clearly obvious, his response definitely wiped them out. “Am I really that tempting?”

He grins. “Guess I’m not as slick as I thought I was.”

From the unfiltered stares of appreciation to the amount of compliments he’s given you since you were introduced, you both know he wasn’t trying to be slick. Not to mention you’ve yet to hear him compliment any of the other women in the friend group as much, including his girlfriend. It’s unclear if Jaemin is just blind to how Jaehyun basically undresses you with his eyes right in front of him, to how Shotaro always finds himself next to you, subtly flirting, or to Lucas always giving you lingering hugs. Or maybe your boyfriend is aware and just doesn’t care because he trusts his friends. Knowing Jaemin, though, if he’s aware of it all, it gives his Leo ass an ego boost. 

“You weren’t trying to be slick, Jaehyun.” And if he was, you’d hate to see what him being obvious is like. 

“You’re right,” he nods slowly. “I really wasn’t.”

There’s no denying he’s handsome and his laid back nature is cool to be around, and you’re sure he pulls a lot of women off of  those two details alone, but you’re literally his friend’s girlfriend.

“Is the whole friend group this triflin’?”

Jaehyun rubs his lips together, chuckling dryly. “You’d be surprised.”

You don’t think you’d be. You had a feeling with the lack of subtlety. Putting it all into perspective, though, it makes you wonder. 

But you don’t want to entertain the question that pops into your brain. 

This is why you don’t do friend groups. 

“Fucking me isn’t worth your relationship or friendship with Jaemin.”

He looks like he wants to laugh, and that further annoys you.

“Do Jaemin and I seem close to you?” They don’t. You’ve seen them interact, but you can’t remember ever just seeing the two of them together. Lucas or Xiaojun have always been with them, if not the whole group. “And again, I do not have a girlfriend.”

“You may not have a girlfriend,” you point to him before pointing to yourself, “but I have a boyfriend who is literally a room away. I’m not getting in the middle of a piss war or filling a void for you.”

He lets out an amused exhale. “That’s what you think this is?” 

“I don’t give a fuck what this is,” you tell him irritably, grabbing your belongings, now ready to go back into the living room. You just wanted a little break from interacting with everyone but you could barely get it. “I won’t be a part of it.” 

Jaehyun puts his hands up, surrendering, and you take that as your cue to leave the kitchen.

—

“Wow,” Lucas whistles as he opens his front door after someone knocks. “Since when do you have this much time to be around us?”

You glance up and Jaehyun is side-eyeing Lucas while he kicks his shoes off. When you see his head turning in your direction, you look at Joy, taking the blunt she holds out for you. 

While scrolling through your explore page, a notification of a new direct message appears at the top of your phone. From _jeongjaehyun.

can I talk to you in the kitchen rq?

You keep scrolling.

Until you get another message from the same person.

I want to apologize. please?

You take a glance at Jaemin, whose attention is on rolling a blunt. 

“Hey,” you whisper, tapping Shotaro’s arm. “Is it cool if I get a water bottle?”

He nods, blowing smoke in the opposite direction. “Cold in the fridge, room temp in the pantry.”

What can you say? Your curiosity won. You want to see what kind of apology the brunet will deliver, if it’s sincere. 

Thanking him quietly, you stand up and make your way to the kitchen to get a bottle out of the pantry. A few sips in, Jaehyun finally steps in, getting a cold water bottle from the fridge. You simply stare at him until he says something, and he does the same. And even after last time’s interaction, his elevator eyes don’t make you uncomfortable. 

“Even though I meant everything I said last time,” he begins, twisting the cap off. You almost laugh. This is off to a great start. “I wasn’t thinking about the position it put you in and it was fucked up.”

“It was,” you agree, leaning against the pantry door. 

“I apologize for that. I fuck with you and wanted to shoot my shot, so I did,” Jaehyun explains, “but I know where you stand and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just wanna be friends.”

“No funny shit?”

“Scouts honor.”

Your brow raises. “You were a scout?”

“Absolutely not,” Jaehyun laughs. 

“Then your word means shit,” you scoff, fighting a smile. It’s a half-assed apology in your book, but seeing how he communicates with everyone else, short and to the point unless he has some liquor in his system, you think it might be genuine. So you accept it. Plus, you like that he wanted to apologize in person and not over social media. ”But I’ll take it.”

“We good?” he asks skeptically before drinking half of his bottle in one go. 

You hum in affirmation, moving your attention away from his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “We’re good.”

If you’re being honest, the main reason you decided to hear him out is because he’s popped up in your mind more times than you’d like to admit. You haven’t seen him since that night you shut him down, which was two weeks ago, and even though you stand on everything you said, there’s still some gravitational pull when it comes to Jaehyun. You enjoy his presence. There’s a safe, yet exciting feeling that he brings.

And ’friends’ is perfect. 

“Now I can put my order in,” he says with a smile. 

You suck your teeth. “The order you were supposed to put in like a month ago?” 

“Hush. I’m getting to it.”

The two of you leave the kitchen laughing to yourselves and rejoin your respective partners, Jaehyun sitting at a bit of a distance yet still throwing an arm behind Yeri’s shoulder on the couch cushions, you cuddling into Jaemin, who’s been looking at you since you emerged from the kitchen. 

Your boyfriend holds you close, hand drifting down to your ass to give a playful squeeze. You lightly hit his chest with a laugh before he dips down to give you a lingering kiss.

“Wanna leave early?” he asks in your ear.

“Why?” you ask, already knowing what the tone in his voice reflects. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’d just rather be with you, watching a movie right now.”

Your brows lift in surprise. You never thought you’d hear those words come out of his mouth. He loves being out and around with his friends. 

“We can go now,” you tell him, making him laugh and sit up. 

“Let’s go, then.”

Becoming friends with Jaehyun has been interesting. He’s blunt and short with his words most times, he’s got a nonchalant, cocky air to him, yet he’s still such a down to earth, kind of nerdy guy. After his apology, it was easy to click with him.

Oh, and he still has a staring problem.

If you’re in the same room or crossing paths around campus, Jaehyun always makes sure to catch your eye. He nods in acknowledgement most times, sometimes licking his lips before getting back to what he was doing, sometimes grinning a little. Sometimes walking with you to your destination if it isn’t out of the way of his own.

The worst part about it all, you’ve come to enjoy it. 

You don’t mind when Jaehyun’s looking at you like you’re the only other person around him. You enjoy when he comes up to you to speak, greeting you, complimenting your appearance. 

You didn’t mind the first time he leaned in for a hug when everyone got together at his apartment when he opened the door for you. And how every meeting since then has come with an embrace that momentarily leaves you stuck because whatever cologne he wears smells so good. He gives firm, tight hugs that let you know it’s not just a polite gesture, that he wants to wrap you in his arms and he enjoys it. 

But you know you should mind it. You should care. You shouldn’t like it. 

Which is why you initially set that boundary weeks ago before he apologized. You were being a good girlfriend. 

There’s something about him, though. There’s a different side you’ve gotten to see recently. The way he speaks about aliens, after life, and conspiracy theories to you and Joy when you’re all high, in your own corner of wherever the group meets up that night while everyone else is on their phones or talking about superficial and trivial things. 

Jaehyun’s the complete opposite of Jaemin. Down to their astrological signs. 

He’s older, more mature, more authentic. 

Each time you join your boyfriend in hanging out with everyone, you find yourself with Jaehyun and Joy, hardly paying attention to anyone else, mostly paying attention to the Aquarius. 

The three of you have gotten pretty close outside of everyone else, much to your surprise. Sometimes in between classes you and Joy will get lunch together, and there are times when Jaehyun joins. 

You’ve yet to be completely alone with him. But that’s about to change. 

You knock on Jaehyun’s door, his order of lotion and shea butter in your hold. The door opens soon after, Jaehyun looking down at you with low, red eyes and a grin.

“About time.” 

Rolling your eyes, you push the gift bag into his stomach. “Be happy I didn’t scam you.”

He wraps an arm around you and you lean into him, using your free arm to encircle his waist.

Taking the package out of your hold with his free hand as he releases you, he offers you the joint pinched between his fingers. “You coming in?”

An excuse to get back home is on the tip of your tongue because your brain is telling you it isn’t a good idea to be alone and high with the man before you, but you’re reaching out to grab it and stepping into his home anyway. 

Jaemin is busy for most of the day with classes and basketball with Lucas and Shotaro, and all you’d be doing in your room is work or scrolling through social media. 

“Wanna smoke in here or on the balcony?” he asks when you’ve made it to the living room. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t offer your room,” you joke, taking a hit and making yourself comfortable on his couch. He follows suit, sitting unnecessarily close to you on his very big, very spacious sofa. 

“I don’t smoke in my room but we could find something else to do if that’s where you wanna go.”

You hit his arm with hardly any force and he laughs, stealing the joint from you. 

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” Jaehyun asks before taking a drag. 

You hum, thinking. “I have an assignment due tonight but other than that, not really.”

“Do you wanna start this show with me then? I think you’d like it.” He pulls the show up on Netflix and you see it’s a show you’ve been meaning to watch, but keep pushing it aside. A show you asked Jaemin to start with you, but he wasn’t interested at all. 

The show falls into the category of conversations that have been held between you and Jaehyun–plus Joy. It’s about a woman who resurfaces after she’d been missing for seven years and can miraculously see, despite being blind before her disappearance. 

You nod, taking the joint back. “Yeah. I gotta leave by 5, though.” 

“You could always do your assignment here,” Jaehyun offers. 

Tempting. But you have to go to the library for this assignment. 

“Maybe next time.” 

He doesn’t push the matter. He just presses play and throws an arm around your shoulders, sinking into the cushions to get comfortable. You make yourself do the same, curling your legs to the empty side of you. 

By the time the second episode is playing, you’re leaning into Jaehyun’s body subconsciously, the both of you so into what’s happening before you. The joint has been smoked, what remains of it sits in the ashtray on the side table. He mutters little comments and questions every once in a while, his deep voice lulling you into a space that you’re becoming too comfortable in. 

“I have a bad feeling about that,” Jaehyun voices your exact thought. 

You glance up at him in slow, exaggerated shock. “I was just about to say that.”

He laughs at your reaction, then there’s a silent stare off for a few beats that you can’t seem to pull away from. And just like that, you forget there’s a show that requires your attention playing ahead. 

“You have really pretty eyes,” he compliments in such a gentle voice your gut turns. 

“Thank you.” 

His orbs go from your eyes, to your mouth, and back up to your eyes, and it’s so clear what’s going on in his brain. He doesn’t act on it, which you’re grateful for, letting you know that even with the suggestive jokes and less than platonic feelings he’s brought to your attention, he never crosses the line.

You’re grateful because you really don’t know if you’d have the will power to push him away. 

Jaehyun looks at you in a way you’ve never experienced before. You can’t quite put your finger on what’s different, but you do recognize desire. 

And you’re saved by the alarm you set earlier for 5 o’clock. 

“You sure you can’t watch another episode before you leave?” Jaehyun asks, not letting you pull away to turn the alarm off just yet, his arm tightening around you. “Wanna spend some more time with you.”

“I’ve got a 5-page paper to write that I haven’t even written the title on,” you explain, touched by his confession. You sigh, getting out of his hold when the sound of the alarm becomes annoying. It’s not that you don’t want to stay here and binge the show. “I’m free Thursday after 3?” 

Bit of a dangerous game to play, but you have enough self control. You just might not smoke the next time. 

“I’ll see you Thursday after 3, then,” he agrees easily. “Let me walk you out.”

The hug he gives you before you get into your car lingers, both arms wrapping around your upper back and holding you close, a subtle side to side rock. With the side of your face flush to his chest, arms encircling his middle and hands flat against his back, feeling the way his muscles flex beneath your palms, you hum in contentment. Jaehyun really gives the best hugs. 

“Thanks for watching the show with me,” he says before slowly peeling his body away.

“Thank you for asking me to.” It means a lot. 

Jaehyun’s eyes flicker to your mouth as he licks his lips. “You should leave before I try to convince you to watch a couple more episodes with me.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, backing up to open your car door. “I should leave before I’m convinced.” 

With a grin, he nods. “Drive safe, pretty.” 

His scent is still on you and strong when you’re driving back home to pick your laptop up. When you’re curled up in a solo booth typing away at your laptop. And a soft smile lingers throughout the whole night. 

The sound of an Instagram message interrupts the music you’re playing as you fill in your eyebrow. With a sigh at the interruption in your flow, you peer over to see if it’s a potential new customer.

Instead, it’s on your main page from a user you’ve never seen before. 

You tap it since you’re already here. And your heart drops to your stomach. 

Hey girl. I wasn’t going to say anything but you seem like a nice person so I would feel bad if I didn’t. Your boyfriend has been in my dms for a while. And he came home with my roommate last night

The fact that you trust him when he says he’s out with the boys and make it a point to not check his location unless he’s running late to come see you makes you smile humorlessly to yourself. You’ve been fighting off that gut feeling to check, telling yourself it’s just your anxiety and trust issues. That you’re past that stage in your relationship. He’s committed solely to you now. 

You blink at the message, reading it over a couple times before letting out a dry laugh. You don’t doubt her at all, but if you’re going to approach him about anything, you need proof. That way he can’t lie to you the way he’s done in the past. 

Could you show me what he’s been saying?

A couple of minutes later, a few screenshots are sent to you. They consist of Jaemin swiping up with heart eyes emojis as well as the exasperated emoji, him asking for her Snapchat and her asking ‘don’t you have a girlfriend?’ to which he replied honestly to, and her saying he can hit her back up when he is single but not when he’s in a relationship. The timestamps show you that he has been at it on and off for a little over a month now. The last message from him is asking her to link, to which she politely declined.

You respect it. You’re not mad at her thanking him when he sent heart eyes or compliments. Honestly, you don’t even think you feel any anger at all right now. You feel numb. 

You save the screenshots to your phone. 

Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Have a great day. 

You and Jaemin have plans to go out to eat and grocery shopping, and you’re still going to get a meal and free groceries no matter what news was given to you just now. Especially after the news you were just given. You’ve always been a great actress when need be. So you finish your make up and get dressed in a cute, casual two piece outfit that you know is one of Jaemin’s favorites.

He’s still not here by the time you’re done getting ready, and instead of taking the time to think about the situation like you probably should, your thumb moves mindlessly across your phone screen and taps on a message thread. 

[3:25] you: Are you gonna be busy later?

[3:26] jung: what time?

You exhale deeply at his fast reply.

[3:28] you: Like 6

[3:28] jung: no. wassup?

You grin to yourself.

[3:29] you: Bet. I’ll see you then

[3:30] jung: uh [3:32] jung: okay? [3:32] jung: to watch our show?

You don’t bother responding. You let him know you’d be there and that’s all he needs to know right now. And honestly, you didn’t think this far into the conversation. What would you even reply with? Oh I found out Jaemin is a piece of shit so I’m probably about to go over there and do something to get over it. Not that you think Jaehyun would even have a problem with that blunt response or being used for his attention to fill a void within you now. Your pride makes you hold the information in because the tables have turned. 

And then the sound of your doorbell sounds throughout the apartment. 

With a pretty smile on your face, you answer the door and greet your boyfriend, who hums in appreciation at the sight in front of him, and stand on your tiptoes to give him a hug and kiss. He grabs your ass in the midst of the embrace and you feel sick at the action, but you swallow it down. 

“Ready?” Jaemin asks.

You thought you could make it through food and groceries, but with him standing in front of you, you realize you can’t. 

You want to be out of his presence as soon as possible. 

“Can we chill for a little? I’ve got a headache.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jaemin agrees easily, stepping in and closing the door behind him. He kicks his shoes off before leading you to the couch and holding you close. “You just got it or has it been a while?”

“Got it about half an hour ago,” you sigh, doing your best to remain calm in his hold. Especially when he kisses your temple. 

Your heart is beating fast, but you still don’t feel angry. 

You always feel anger when you catch him. 

All you feel is hurt. Embarrassed. 

“I wanna show you something,” you mumble, unlocking your phone. His attention goes to the device and he watches you go to your photos and tap the recent photo album before pulling up the conversation. 

You hold it up closer to his face so he can really see it. 

And his face drops. 

You don’t yell. You barely raise your voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jaemin?” 

He just blinks stupidly and starts to stutter. “I-I don’t know.”

“How many times have we gone through this?” you ask, throwing your phone aside. “Why do you keep doing dumb shit like this?”

“I didn’t mean it,” he tries to defend himself. “I was just bored and–”

You laugh humorlessly at that. “You must’ve been really bored last night when you were supposedly at the library with the guys, huh?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Jaemin responds, trying to convey his truth with his eyes. The first couple of times you felt bad for making him look so dejected, but the fact this conversation has happened multiple times just because he doesn’t know how to not be thirsty and not try to outsource when you’re not around or when the two of you have a disagreement is enough for empathy to no longer exist. It’s not like he cared about you when he was in the moment. 

“So not only have you embarrassed me by having our pictures pinned on your page and constantly in bitch’s messages, but you actually go home with someone and get caught, then it gets reported to me out of pity. ” You conclude the event just so he can hear how shitty he is. 

“We only kissed. I felt bad and we stopped there.”

You blink. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I swear that’s all that happened.”

You shake your head. Part of you only believes he didn’t actually get his dick wet because he has no game, but unfortunately, if he pulled you off his good looks and good naturedness, it’s very probable women on campus who have the ‘if she’s not my friend, he’s single’ mindset will fuck him. “You can go now.”

Jaemin panics. “Can we talk about this, please?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you deadpan, scooting out of his hold and looking at your stove to see the time. 

He reaches for you, and you dodge his touch by standing up and walking to the door, looking at him expectantly. 

“Baby, please.” 

“I have somewhere to be soon.” Jaemin stands, trying again to touch your hand when he should know the last thing you want from him right now is his touch. “I’m not gonna waste my breath trying to convince you that I don’t deserve this and that out of respect for you I don’t even open messages from guys I don’t know, again. I don’t have anything else to say to you. Goodbye.”

“I know you’re faithful and I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry,” Jaemin exasperates. “Let me make it up to you? I promise it won–”

“Go, Jaemin.”

Head down, Jaemin finally listens. He slips his Crocs on when he gets to the front door, gives you one more pitiful look while giving an apology that you don’t even listen to. You lock the door behind him and head to the bathroom to freshen up. 

[4:02] you: I’m actually omw now

[4:03] jung: ok

—

It only takes a few seconds for you to hear the lock turn after you knock on his door. Jaehyun’s hair is messy and even with confusion written all over his face, he looks even better than the last time you saw him. Gray sweat-shorts and a white wife-beater never looked so good on a man. 

After a moment of you finally appreciating the view in front of you without nagging thoughts or guilt and him analyzing you, he speaks.

“You found out, didn’t you?”

And that’s all it takes for the thoughts to go away and to spark anger within you. He knew. Of course he knew. You’re sure he knows shit that hasn’t been brought to your attention, too. 

“You’re a piece of shit for not telling me.”

He grins. “Me blatantly telling you I wanted you and continuing to show you should’ve told you everything you needed to know.”

“So you pick and choose when to follow bro code?” you scoff, walking passed him and into the living room. “Fucking your friend’s girlfriend is better than telling her about him doing shit behind her back now?”

He follows behind you after shutting and locking the front door.

“I don’t follow ‘bro code’ for associates… Plus he fucked my ex, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“So I’m revenge pussy?”

“How did you come to that con–”

“So y’all just share pussy within the group,” you hum in faux understanding, plopping down on the beige couch.

“Last time I checked, we’ve never had sex?” 

“But you’ve made it very clear you want to fuck me.”

He says your name in a humorless laugh, not at all in the mood for your deflecting. “I know you didn’t come here to fuss at me. So why are you here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, your mind barely even taking in what he just said to you. You thought the two of you were close enough. 

The brunet sits on the opposite end of the couch. His demeanor changes, voice softer and tone genuine now that you’re not trying to chew his head off and you’re more hurt than angry now. “By the time I was told, you already made plans to come over here.”

“Would you have told me?”

He shrugs. “Probably, I don’t know. Would you have believed me? After I’ve been hitting on you this whole time?”

You want to continue being upset, but you can’t even be mad at his reasoning. At him at all. He’s not the one that did you dirty. 

You don’t know if you would have believed him if he did try to tell you, honestly. Yeah, you’ve created a (mostly) platonic bond and consider him a friend at this point, but he’s right. Jaehyun’s never stopped his desires from being shown or spoken on, only diluting them. And you’ve always had a hard time accepting the truth. 

You sigh. “I can understand that.”

He scoots closer to you and gives you a moment to recenter yourself, speaking softly when he says, ”Answer my first question now.”

“You were just the first person that came to mind.” You shrug, not making eye contact with him. 

“While I believe you,” he says, “I know you didn’t come here to talk about him.” Any time you’ve been together, your boyfriend is hardly mentioned. “So what is it?”

Aside from setting up the second time to meet at his place and watch tv, you’ve never invited yourself over, always accepting an invitation. Of course it’s obvious. 

You shake your head. Adrenaline no longer pumping, you don’t have half the balls you did when you texted him or when you knocked on his door.

“He hurt your feelings so you came here, right?” he asks slowly, head tilting. 

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“And you want me to help you feel better?” Jaehyun puts the final pieces together. He doesn’t pity you, which you appreciate, but it’s clear in his voice that he doesn’t want to piss you off again with his assumption, even though you both know he guessed right.

Your heart hurts. Being here, in Jaemin’s friend’s (acquaintance?) apartment, considering getting lost in him to feel better because you just know he has exactly what you need right now isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but the opportunity had presented itself to you even before the additional heartbreak. 

Then you remember another heart could get broken. 

“What’s up with you and Yeri?” you ask. He’s told you on multiple occasions that they are not together, but actions speak so much louder than words and you know a couple, or at least two individuals who are intimately involved with one another when you see it. 

“I told you, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“But does she know that?” you push the matter. The way Yeri looks at him, so full of love and admiration even as he pays very little attention to her.

“We cut off anything more than a friendship like two weeks ago.” At your skeptical look, he adds on, “promise.”

Promises don’t mean shit to you at this point, if the ring still on your finger says anything. “Officially?”

Jaehyun moves to pull his phone out of his back pocket, unlock it, and tap a few things before handing the device to you. It’s their message thread, the last few messages from last Friday.

yeri: i’m gonna need some space to really get over everything before going back to being just friends but i don’t want anyone to feel awkward 

you: take your time. they’ll understand

“Anything else?” he asks at your acknowledging hum, setting the phone on the coffee table when you hand it back. “We can watch our show or something if you want.”

You scoot closer to him this time, to the point of your thighs touching, and he drapes his arm behind you and patiently waits as your thoughts come to a stopping point. You lean into his embrace and look up at him, eyes going straight to his mouth. 

“Yeah, we can watch it,” you finally respond, resting your head on his shoulder.

Nodding, Jaehyun turns on the TV and scrolls through Netflix to find it. 

“Let me turn the lights off,” he mutters, waiting until you lift your head to get up and do so. He sits leaned against the arm of the chair, legs spread wide and body slumped. Tilting his head, he invites you into his space. 

You check your phone for the time and scroll up a bit to see you have a couple of missed texts from Jaemin. You’re sure it’s the typical apology texts you’ve gotten every time you caught him, so you turn your phone off before you set the device and your purse beside his own belongings on the coffee table. You fit yourself in between Jaehyun’s legs, your upper back against his chest and the back of your head on his shoulder, and you almost sigh when he wraps an arm around you. Fresh linen mixed with that underlying masculine scent you’ve gotten used to with him toeing the line of acting like you’re his friend’s girlfriend and you’re the woman he’s interested in is so comforting you find yourself spaced out.

You don’t know why you’re trying to bullshit yourself right. You don’t give a damn about this show right now. 

You’d been attracted to this man and under his spell since the first couple of meetings. Actually befriending him was conflicting, the flirting and glances and touches that didn’t overstep any boundaries but were so close to doing so. You were being a good girlfriend by dismissing him and downplaying interactions. You don’t have to do that anymore. Jaemin’s bullshit was just the cherry on top to have you fall into Jaehyun’s lap. All of the cards you’ve been dealt have led you to his apartment, and you aren’t stepping on anyone’s toes being here. 

You deserve a little fun.

And he doesn’t seem to take you seriously enough for either of you to get hurt from one night together. He’s perfectly fine with being a rebound, and you’re basically in the same boat. You know what they say, to get over someone… 

Tilting your head, you look up at him, waiting a few seconds until he returns your gaze. 

“What’s up?” Jaehyun asks, his attention going back to the  show when you don’t answer after a couple of seconds. You lift a hand to gently grab the back of his head, guiding his face down to yours. There’s a slight grin on his face as he allows you to move his head, and you feel it when you tilt your chin up to finally slant your lips over his. 

This is what you’d been depriving yourself of. The slow passes of Jaehyun’s lips on yours, the firm, yet gentle hold that keeps you close to his body, the warmth that instantly builds in your stomach. It’s so different. Kisses with Jaemin can be rushed and sloppy most times when sex is on his mind, even suffocating. Here, there’s no rush to get to you undressed, just you getting comfortable with one another and you caressing his scalp with your fingertips. Just gradually building passion.

He lightly licks your bottom lip, and then your tongues are getting acquainted. He tastes like mint as the muscles slowly circle around one another, making your body heat up and a whimper leaks out of you. 

Kisses move from your lips to your cheek, trailing lower. You let him kiss, lick, and suck his way up and down your neck, lolling your head further to the side with a low moan.

“We’re doing this?” he asks, dragging his tongue up to your ear. And the moment the wet muscle circles around your ear, you realize how sensitive they are and suck in a breath at the feeling. “I need words.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. When his tongue dips in and just lightly swirls, your fingers grip his hair tighter. 

“Yeah?” he prompts quietly, sucking on your earlobe. The arm around you loosens, his hand sliding up your stomach, stopping at your chest to fondle your breast. You nod, pushing your chest into his hand while guiding him to kiss your lips again. 

“Yes,” you hiss against his lips. That’s all you want. You want Jaehyun to take the heartache away, even if just temporarily. You’ve done enough contemplating and Jaehyun seems to agree.

He kisses you rougher, his tongue not as nice as before and takes over, leaving you no choice but to just moan and let him raid your mouth while he pinches and pulls at your nipple. 

His other hand drifts lower, fingertips skimming over your dangling belly button ring, then he flips the front of your skirt up. You spread your legs, giving him more room. His light touch tickles your inner thigh and you break away from the kiss, panting. The difference between his rough tugging on your chest and featherlike, almost teasing fingers so close to the wet seat of your panties makes your head spin. 

Head back on his shoulder, your eyes lift up to the ceiling as you process the position the two of you are in and the feeling of Jaehyun’s digits circling around your clothed entrance. He knows exactly where to touch you, like this isn’t the first time you’ve allowed yourselves to be in this situation, like he’s had the time to learn your body. His hands and his mouth, the tone of his voice and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you gets you worked up so quickly you’re actually surprised. 

When the seat of your panties is drenched to Jaehyun’s liking and you let out a needy whine, he moves the fabric aside. Teasingly tapping your clit, you both watch the string of arousal that stretches from your cunt to his fingertips. You haven’t been this turned on in so long, you’re sensitive and so close to becoming impatient, but at the same time you’re basking in the attention. 

“Yeah, he’s a dumbass,” Jaehyun mutters to himself, continuing to play with your wetness. Two digits dip into your entrance, just barely sinking in one knuckle deep. He repeats this for a while, thoroughly enjoying how wet you are just for him. 

“Jaehyun,” you moan. “Please do something.”

He listens, pushing both fingers into you instantly and it makes you gasp. The hand on your breast slides up to your chin to guide your mouth back to his. His tongue dances with your own as he swallows the whines and whimpers you let out. 

The wet smacks resonating throughout the living room get louder and louder, his thrusts getting faster and rougher.

“Fuck,” you cry, pulling away to catch your breath. You look down in between your legs and the sight only brings a tightness to your lower abdomen. The angle is perfect, his palm smacking your clit each time his fingers sink deep into you. “Right there. Right there.”

“Mm, right here?” His deep voice vibrates your back. “You gonna come?”

You nod violently, your walls already starting to clench around his digits. You cry in affirmation. 

“Let it out, baby. I got you.” His movements speed up even more and the friction of his palm on your clit is more intentional now.  “Come all over my fingers.”

You reach for something to grab, your hand coming in contact with the top of the cushion beside you and you grip it as hard as you can. The pleasure in your clit intensifies and your legs automatically move to shut, but your knees don’t even touch because Jaehyun uses his free hand to tug your leg back onto the cushions. 

Your hips roll out of sync with the thrusts of his hands to chase the orgasm that’s so close you can taste it, and Jaehyun reads you and your body language so well it would scare you if your head wasn’t so high in the cloud. His tongue swirls around your ear, giving your body that final push to release. 

The moan you let out as your lower body shakes sounds like a cry and the man under you just eats it up, groaning under you, rubbing his erection against your back for some type of friction as he draws your orgasm out with the heel of his hand on your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Jae-” You try to tell him it’s so close to becoming too much yet the feeling is so addicting you don’t want it to stop, but your words die when you feel another intense wave of pleasure wash over you. “Oh fuck. Please.”

“One more time before I fuck you?” he asks, so composed—the complete opposite of you. He grabs your face and makes you look at him, smiling at your lewd grimace. “One more time. You can do it.”

You can and you immediately do at his encouragement. “Oh my fucking God.”

“That’s it,” he continues to encourage, finally slipping his fingers out before it becomes too much. His hand comes up to your mouth and your mouth opens without a thought, letting him stick his wet digits in and giving you a taste of the mess you made. “So good for me.”

You nod, agreeing. You’ll do anything he wants at this point and he knows it. 

“Do you taste good, baby?”

You roll your tongue around and in between his fingers and moan in lieu of an answer, to which Jaehyun smiles at before carefully removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue in a filthy kiss. 

He strips you of your clothing before you’re maneuvered to turn and straddle his lap, the lip lock only breaking for a second before you grab the sides of his face and take the lead. Jaehyun easily lets you, giving you his tongue to suck into your mouth as he moves to settle straight up against the cushions. 

Your essence is dripping down your inner thighs, your pussy clenching around air, in desperate need of him. You rise up to your knees to give you room to stick a hand down the front of his pants. The two of you moan in unison when you wrap your fingers around his dick. Backing away from the kiss, you look down, using your other hand to pull the waistband down as you pull him out of his shorts. 

He’s the perfect size and you almost cry because you’ve really been blocking your blessings for a man that isn’t worth it. 

You claw his shorts down to his knees and he takes care of the rest, kicking them off when he gets them to his ankles. 

“Go ahead.” Jaehyun licks his lips, eyes lidded and dark.  “Sit on it. You can use me to get even.”

You spit in your hand before wrapping it back around his dick, pumping a few times to get him wet.

“It’s not like that.”

Lifting up a bit more, you guide his tip to your entrance. You take your time sinking down on his dick, holding the base while balancing yourself with the other hand on his shoulder. He stretches you out with a pleasurable sting, making you hiss as more inches disappear inside you. Adjusting your feet so that they’re resting against his inner thighs for support, you push down until he bottoms out, and both of you are moaning at the delicious feeling. 

“What is it like then?” Jaehyun asks as you lift his shirt up and off of his body. 

It takes a few practice rises and falls to get adjusted to him and you take your time, to which the man beneath you appreciates. He can feel all of you, groaning deep in his chest.

“I want— mm— I already wanted you,” you confess, to which he smiles knowingly at. He just wanted to hear you say it. “Fuck you’re so big.”

“So fucking tight,” Jaehyun rasps, melting into the cushions behind him. He just admires the view of you riding him, the wet, sticky sound the action makes when he’s deep inside of you. Enjoys the feeling of you sucking him in greedily like your cunt refuses to let him slip out. Jaehyun’s encouraging words urge you to fuck yourself on his cock a little faster, harder, moans getting louder each time you bottom out. “Just like that.”

A deep groan of his name comes from the back of your throat. You can hardly think, let alone about what caused you to be in this very situation, but you can feel the tension and built up emotions loosen more and more the longer you lose yourself in the feeling of your walls being stretched around Jaehyun. 

“I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“Yeah?” Jaehyun slouches into the couch even more, running his hands up your thighs to reach and grab the top of your ass for leverage so he can fuck up into you, meeting your thrusts half way. The power behind his strokes causes you to go momentarily cross-eyed, eyes unfocused and brows furrowed at the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm approaching even faster now. 

“Fuck,” you squeal, unable to move, which Jaehyun easily accepts and completely takes over. 

“Want you to come all over me,” he grunts out, voice strained. His stare burns your face and your eyes focus back on his handsome face. Jaw clenched, the brunet’s hold changes to your hips to slam your lower body down until you do just as he said, a loud cry echoing in his spacious living room. Tears fall down your cheeks, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body convulses and Jaehyun just talks you through it. You fall into him, the side of your face landing on the couch, fingers gripping the cushions for dear life. You barely hear the words coming out of his mouth, every few words registering in the midst of your whines.

His thrusts slow to a stop and your mind is fuzzy as he showers your throat in kisses, hands caressing your waist. 

You lean back in his lap, his tip pressing further into the spot within you causing both of you to moan in unison. You caress his face, swallowing hard and breathing deeply to catch your breath for a few beats before slanting your lips over his again.

He guides you to grind against him, hands on your hips pulling you into him then pushing you back in a steady motion. Your moans die out in his mouth. His tip just continues to hit your g-spot, your clit rubs against his pelvic bone and it feels so good you have to break away from his mouth. 

Your eyes meet and the contact doesn’t break, your mouth open as deep exhales and whimpers slip out. The room feels hotter, your skin feels stickier, but you just keep grinding and basking in the pleasure until you’re ready for more. Ready for him to come. 

With wobbly limbs, you climb off of him, sinking your knees into the cushions and draping your upper body along the top of the couch, your cheek resting on your arm as you watch Jaehyun stand up and position himself behind you with one knee on the sofa, stroking his cock. 

“You still want more?” he asks, tapping his tip on your ass. 

“Want you to come.” You push your hips back, already becoming impatient. 

“Yeah?” Jaehyun rubs his tip through the mess that pools over your entrance. “Where do you want me to come, baby?”

“Inside me,” you moan. “Please?”

He’ll give you whatever you want. You know as much. 

“Give me a pretty arch– just like that.” Pressing into the arch, Jaehyun coaxes himself back inside of you with slow strokes. The different angle, the different pace, feels like heaven. Your eyes flutter shut, lip trapped between your teeth as your body rocks with his thrusts. 

He continues fucks you slowly, no desire to speed things up yet, just wanting the both of you to enjoy every second. Softly, he tells you ‘up’ before guiding your back to meet his chest with a gentle hand on your throat.

You hold his gaze when he tells you to look at him, even though your lids are fighting you. 

“You wanted me to make you feel better, right?” he asks, and after a moment of silence from you, he manually pulls your lip from between your teeth and repeats, “Right?”

You hum in affirmation, pushing your hips back to feel him even deeper. “Shit. I did.”

“Tell me how I’m making you feel,” he commands, rolling his hips with deep strokes. “I wanna hear you.”

“‘Make me feel so good,” you abide with a whine. “So fucking good, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun brings you in for a slow, sloppy kiss, finally picking up his pace. The hand on your neck glides down to your breast to pinch and pull at your sensitive nipple while his other hand travels down in between your legs, finding your clit to rub circles over.

Wet lips trail to your ear, his deep grunts the main thing you can hear before his tongue is back and circling around in your ear. Your eyes flutter at all of the stimulation, lower abdomen tightening and getting ready for yet another climax. 

“Need you to come again. Can you do that for me?” 

Nodding carefully, you agree. 

The digits on your clit speed up, no longer going in a circular motion but instead swiping back and forth, bringing you so much closer to the edge. 

“Said you want my cum inside of you?”

“Yes,” you gasp, repeating the word as your body starts shaking, back arching and walls clamping on his dick, coming once again and bringing him closer to doing the same. 

His thrusts quicken gradually, not giving you the time to recover this time around, back to pushing that pretty arch in your back for him and using the grip on your waist as leverage. Your legs shake from the effort it takes to keep yourself on your knees for him with the onslaught you’re taking. From the overwhelming pleasure that squeezes your eyes shut and has you seeing stars. Alongside your drool, your tears leak out onto the cotton the side of your face is smushed into while you cry. It doesn’t hurt in the slightest so you’re unsure as to why you’re crying--bawling, rather-- but it feels so right so you don’t question it. You just keep taking Jaehyun’s deep strokes while your body convulses until he pulls out with a pop. 

Little droplets of cum that didn’t make it inside decorate your gaping entrance. With Jaehyun no longer having such a strong hold on you, your knees can slip apart more, and the angle allows for milky ropes to slowly ooze out of your hole. You don’t have enough time to get back into your right state of mind before Jaehyun enters you again in one, deep thrust. 

He couldn’t help it. Something carnal within him has to fuck the cum back inside of you. 

Your gasp of surprise only eggs him on further, slamming into you until he’s milked out completely and his shaft gets too sensitive to go any further. The top of your crack to your inner thighs is smeared cum and cream, and the sight almost makes Jaehyun’s limp dick twitch. He’s mesmerized by the sight, running his fingers over your fluttering entrance until a tiny whimper brings him back to reality. 

He takes his time pulling away from your boneless body to stand straight up. 

“Need me to carry you to the bathroom?”

You’re dizzy and your cheeks are wet but you find the brain and strength to lift yourself up, shaking your head. Jaehyun assists with a hand pulling you by your arm. Your legs are wobbly and he laughs to himself as he walks behind you, gently pushing you out of the living room and through his room to the bathroom. 

Sitting on the toilet completely naked and pushing his semen out is an intimate act but you barely have the mind to care right now. He’s hardly paying attention anyway, focused on wetting a rag with warm water and cleaning himself before rinsing the cloth back off to use on you. 

Once you’ve wiped as much as toilet paper can get off of you and flush, Jaehyun guides you to sit on his spacious sink so he can finish the job. Your head is spinning. Jaemin never did this before. 

“You wanna go home tonight or stay with me?” He asks, glancing up at your face in the midst of cleaning between your legs. “I think you should stay so I can fuck you again before you go back to him.”

Your brows furrow. “What makes you think I’m going back to him?” 

“Because you always do.”

How sure he is makes you wonder just how many incidents between you and Jaemin everyone knows about. If Jaehyun, who isn’t close with your boyfriend knows, there’s no doubt everyone else does. 

After all, he said he was told earlier. And it was unlikely by Jaemin himself.

That makes you feel embarrassed all over again. 

The possibility of you forgetting the constant heartache and staying with Jaemin keeps dwindling as the day goes on. 

Jaemin is perfect on paper. And as time has passed and more situations between you have occurred, you realize that’s the main reason you stayed with him. There’s the attachment and love, of course. But the relationship started off physical. No friendship. Just lust and infatuation. You bending over backwards to keep a connection alive when Jaemin was distant and nonchalant, choosing his friends more than you and a lot of times taking entirely too long to respond to texts or snaps. 

Your main source of communication in the beginning was Snapchat. That was the biggest red flag but he was just so handsome and tall and amicable. Jaemin’s eyes were just so kind and they held an innocence that drew you towards him. 

Not to mention when the two of you became official and you introduced him to your family they instantly took a liking to him and often ask about his whereabouts and wellbeing. Inviting Jaemin to birthday parties and dinners. 

He’s attentive to material things that you like and he gets them. His main love language is acts of service so he buys you things, cooks for you, does minor repairs on your car, and other things that make your life a little easier. So you know Jaemin has love for you, but he’s too wrapped up in himself and what his friends have going on, and you’re the one that’s always affected negatively because of this. All the nice things he does for you aren’t worth the sadness, anger, and insecurity you constantly feel. Not worth the emotional rollercoaster you’re always on with him. 

You refuse to take it anymore. 

“I’m not going back to him,” you say more to yourself. You start to push Jaehyun back so you can get down and put some clothes on and quite possibly get the hell out of here, but the brunet sets the soiled rag inside the sink and holds your waist. 

“Then how about you take a shower while I order some food for us.”

You study him. He looks tired but hopeful you’ll stay the night. 

“So you can fuck me again before I leave,” you deadpan. 

He laughs. 

“I only said that because I was sure you’d be right back with him tomorrow,” he explains, bringing your lower body closer to the edge of the counter as he steps forward, your sexes touching and contradicting his next words. “But if you say you aren’t, I can admit I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Why?”

The look he gives you makes you think you asked a dumb question, but you genuinely don’t understand. 

“Just know I’m here when you’re ready, okay?”

That didn’t answer your question at all, but the tone of his voice is believable. “Ready for what, Jaehyun?”

“Us,” he says. “If you decide you still wanna be friends with me and see where this can go, I’m here.”

Now you’re really confused. You thought this was just sex for the both of you. You thought you were both just rebounds. You thought he just wanted to fuck you this whole time. 

“You’re deadass?” you ask dumbly, to which he laughs at. 

“Yes.” He dips down to give you an innocent kiss. “Now get in the shower. I’m hungry.” 

When you open your eyes the next morning, Jaehyun’s body heat radiating even from the other side of the bed, everything that happened yesterday hits you all over again. 

Especially when the man beside you basically told you he wants to be your man. 

It’s not that you’re opposed to it. The connection and chemistry are definitely there. But you can’t jump into another relationship so quickly. Especially with someone who is connected to the man you’ve yet to break up with 

It is nice that Jaehyun didn’t just bombard you with his feelings or ask you out instantly, though. You appreciate him saying the two of you could build and see what happens. 

In the midst of your thinking, Jaehyun stirs awake and checks his phone. He groans tiredly and turns to you. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” is the first thing he says to you, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I bet you like seeing my face first thing in the morning,” you tut. You finally sit up, though, because while you’re not even sure what time it is, you need to get home and figure your next step out. 

“I do.” Jaehyun easily admits, sitting up as well. “I feel like this will be the last time in a while, though.”

You raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong. But are you that easy to read? 

“It’s that obvious?”

He laughs and gets out of the bed, stretching his arms high above his head with a deep grunt. Your eyes trail down his body and stay on the tent in his boxers long enough to get caught. You lick your lips. 

“Let me feed you before you leave.”

“Feed me how?” you ask. This time his brows lift up. “What. Feed me what?”

“I can feed you cum and pancakes if you want,” he snorts. “Extra toothbrushes are in the top left drawer under the sink. You can get ready first.”

You end up taking over halfway through Jaehyun making breakfast so he can freshen up, and the two of you eat side by side at the high bar in his kitchen in comfortable silence for a while. 

But you feel like you should touch on the comment he made earlier. 

“I’m gonna need time to myself before I even start thinking about being with someone else.” 

Jaehyun nods, taking his time to chew and swallow his mouthful. “That’s expected.”

“I honestly don’t want to be around anyone associated with him for a while either,” you admit. He deserves to know what’s going on in your mind. 

You’d only want to see Joy and Jaehyun, and it sucks when Jaehyun’s barely even your boyfriend’s friend, but you can’t see yourself healing and actually getting over the whole situation while constantly in his presence. 

“I figured,” he says. “You cool with me checking in some times?”

You smile. It’s nice that he really does care. “Yeah. I’d like that.” 

He collects your plates when you’ve both finished breakfast and you follow him to the sink to help him clean up before you leave. Your assistance is denied, but he tells you to sit on the counter beside the sink and talk to him before he walks you out. 

You know you need to leave soon, but you’re dragging your feet, so you hike yourself up onto the counter. You don’t have the energy to confront the cause of the situation at hand right now. You’re tired. You just want to go home and sleep for the rest of the day then think about everything tomorrow. Talk to Jaemin tomorrow. 

You don’t even want to check your phone, hence why it’s still off, in Jaehyun’s living room.

Any time you’ve created distance between you and Jaemin after a bad argument, he gave you the space you needed, only sending a message or two letting you know he loves you and how sorry he is, how grateful he is to have you in his life. The space has always been appreciated, but now that you’re thinking about it, it makes you realize how certain he is you’ll be back under him and by his side in no time. 

“Get out of your head,” Jaehyun’s voice brings you back to reality. The dishes are finished and you don’t know if he let you be in your head in silence up until now or if he’s been talking. It doesn’t matter much, seeing that he doesn’t look affected. Instead, he’s easily parting your legs so he can fit his body in between, tilting your chin up with a gentle finger. “Can I get another kiss before you disappear?”

You slant your lips over his, bringing him closer by your legs around his hips. The kiss isn’t like any of the ones from last night. There’s more longing, yet more patience. Jaehyun’s hands stay innocent on the sides of your face while yours hold onto the fabric of his shirt. 

It’s already obvious you’re going to miss this for a while. The way Jaehyun’s tongue lightly circles your own, the way his teeth nip at your lower lip. How he groans when you suck on his bottom lip as he pulls away a little, letting it snap back into place before his tongue is back in your mouth, playing with yours. 

You’re unsure of how long this goes on, but when you can feel your arousal dripping down your inner thigh due to you wearing the same skirt from yesterday with no panties (they got ruined), you give Jaehyun a finale smooch before gently pushing his back by his chest. 

“I gotta go before I end up fucking you again,” you joke, wanting to this temporary halt in whatever the two of you have going on to end on a good note. 

Jaehyun’s head tilts. “I don’t see why that would be a bad thing.”

You squint at him non-intimidatingly. 

“How about I call you if my rabbit isn’t enough to satisfy me?” you propose.

“Can I taste you before you clean up?” 

You pause from getting ready to hop off the counter and raise a brow. 

After spending so much time saying no and shrugging him off, it’s hard to do so right now. Which is why you reach down to swipe at your essence with your fingers and bring them up to his mouth. With a grin, he opens up, tongue out, easily accepting his treat. 

Your breath hitches at the feeling and sight of the tall man enjoying the taste of you from your own fingers. He gently grabs your wrist to angle your hand better so he can lick up every last drop. He finishes with a loud suck before bending down to give you a kiss that lets you also get a taste. 

And suddenly, you don’t mind spending a little more time here. Afterall, who knows when the next time you’ll see him will be.

“You did that on purpose,” you accuse, not really complaining. You don’t even know why you were trying to fool yourself. You’d stay the night again, if you’re being honest. It’d give you more time away from the reality that waits for you outside of the bubble you and Jaehyun have created. 

“I’m not keeping you hostage,” Jaehyun says, wiping some saliva from under your mouth before taking a step back. “Let me walk you to your car.”

You shake your head, leaning back so you can prop your heels on the edge of the counter. “I think you should get a better taste.”

The brunet fights a smile, licking his lips. “You think so?”

“I do.” You nod, biting your lip as you watch him sink to his knees.

“I don’t know, Jaemin,” Joy says, a bit of pity in her voice. “She unfollowed all of us and you haven’t heard from her in what, three weeks?”

“Four,” Jaemin corrects, like that doesn’t further prove the red-head’s point. 

She squints at him like he’s a dumbass, which he is. Everyone in the room knows this. Especially Jaehyun, who doesn’t even know why he’s here tonight. Joy practically begged him to spend a little time with everyone instead of being holed up in his apartment as per usual. 

He already barely joined the group’s festivities, but nowadays, he’d rather just be alone or be with you. 

“Since she broke up with you,” Seulgi further points out. 

“Doesn’t look like she’s taking you back this time, kid,” Taeyong pitches in. 

“I mean yeah, this is the longest we’ve gone without talking but I know her,” Jaemin insists. “She needs space before she forgives and we get back right. Even you all know this. It’s just taking a little longer because it’s the first time she found out I actually fucked someone else.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, licking and sealing his blunt tightly. 

Jaehyun’s annoyed at this point.

“She’s done with you.”

Everyone looks at Jaehyun, surprised at him even speaking on the topic. 

Jaemin laughs, leaning back in his seat arrogantly. “How would you know?”

Yeri tilts her head. 

You’re going to be pissed when his next words get back to you, but he can’t just watch Jaemin talk about you and the situation you’re still healing from like it’s nothing. 

“Because I’ve been nutting in her this whole time.”

heyyyyy :) ik it’s been a minute since i’ve posted. ily thank you for reading. feedback is always appreciated

#jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenario #jaemin smut #jaemin scenario

[cozyjae]

honey bear- n. jm 💞🎀

info: jaemin x reader, established relationship, domestic

wc: 2.0k 

a/n: i’m currently posting my old drafts! <3 i hope y’all enjoy 

You share a lot with Jaemin.

You have always shared a lot with Jaemin. It had always made sense, in a way; shared glances and smiles that morphed slowly and preciously into shared kisses in your shared bed and your shared mugs sitting next to each other in your shared kitchen.

Jaemin is naturally good at sharing. It was like second nature to him, to always happily extend anything he had to others. To extend his love, comfort, and attention to those who needed it, so often and thoughtlessly that he sometimes overextended his energy and gave out more than he received; coming home to flop onto your bed with tired eyes and open arms that irresistibly draw you in, his head finding your shoulder to squish his cheek against your shirt and wrap his arms around your waist. 

Jaemin really does like his job at a local day care. He’s an adolescent education major and began working as a teacher’s assistant there last year. It was a nice job with flexible hours, friendly coworkers, and really sweet kids; and he loved the ability to care for and nurture and the fast paced environment. 

Even when you first met Jaemin, you quickly realized his major and future career choice made total sense. He was so obviously ready to immediately share his love and attentiveness, filled to the brim with tenderness that he had no qualms about extending and giving to others. To you and many others, Jaemin encompassed and embodied a very precious skill and ability to continuously give and give. 

But Jaemin also really likes off time, rest, and the opportunity to be cared for. And after long days like today, where he had a full workload for school with two finals quickly approaching and an afternoon full of tired and restless children- he can only tiredly drag himself up your building's stairs with multi-colored marker stains on his hands and dried glitter glue somehow stuck on his shirt. 

For someone as usually loud and engaged as Jaemin, he still regularly needed the quietness and reassurance silence could offer, and sometimes- a lot of times, simply your presence was rejuvenating enough for him. 

You were always there to help him, to coax him into a warm bath or shower and comfier clothes and give to him whatever he needed, a dynamic that only you could ever offer. And for that reason, he’s excited to open your apartment door and mess with the fickle, old lock that needs replacing, to return to exactly what he needed.

Walking in, he immediately sees you at the kitchen table, pencil in hand trailing over one of many papers spread out before you, most likely studying for one of your upcoming finals. The apartment smells of the candle you bought a few weeks ago while out shopping together, smelling of fresh balsam and firewood. 

You look up and immediately smile as Jaemin drops his bag and coat by the front door and his keys in the bowl that you insist on keeping by the door, slipping off his shoes and lining them up neatly next to yours. By the time he finishes, you’re already next to him, hand sliding down his somehow sore back soothingly.  

“Long day?” You ask quietly, looking at Jaemin who watches you with glazed over eyes as he only nods, easily embracing you, fingers encircling around your waist and muttering something into your shirt that sounds vaguely like a yes. 

Jaemin’s fingers are cold from the long walk from the bus station to your apartment in the winter weather and it makes you reach for his hand to instinctively warm it.

You hum at Jaemin’s response- or lack thereof. “Shower?” You ask gently, intertwining your hands with his and noticing the colorful stains adorning his slender fingers. 

Jaemin nods slowly, eyes flickering up to look into yours. “Please,” he says, voice hoarser and weaker than he anticipates as he continues, “come in with me?”

“Ok,” you agree immediately and he smiles as you coax him into your bathroom gingerly, one of your hands still stubbornly loosely entangled with his. 

The shower’s steam feels good on your skin as Jaemin steps in after you and sighs happily, running his fingers through his hair, warm water droplets beginning to bead across his bare skin.

Your hand moves to hold his forearm, drawing him closer to you as you move to grab your shampoo bottle. He lets you situate him easily and lowers his head so you can lather the shampoo through his hair soothingly.

It smells of fresh citrus and smells like you and Jaemin likes it, all but purring at your comforting actions, letting his mind relax as he only focuses on the way your hands works so gently.

You then use body wash to work away the stains on his hands gently and then bring your soapy hand to cup his cheek tenderly, pressing a light kiss to the crown of his head that he smiles down are

“Me too,” Jaemin says eventually, grabbing the shampoo and making grabbing motions to you that you give into easily.

You’re even closer now as his hands work carefully and slowly. Jaemin eventually becomes distracted by his initial task, instead moving to kiss your neck somewhat messily, making you laugh breathlessly as his arms snake around your bare waist from behind. He helps you turn around in his hold carefully and then instantly connects his lips to yours, sounds drowned out by the running water. 

Jaemin’s mouth moves back to your neck as your hands splay across the firm skin of his back as he moves slowly, sucking small marks into your skin, lips hot and mixing with the hot water and making you suddenly want to feel his lips on yours.

You run your hand through his wet hair and he pulls away slowly, slightly breathless as you immediately lean in to kiss him. He moans quietly into the kiss as your tongue gently slips into his mouth and you both continue languidly for a few more moments until he eventually breaks away from you, too tired to really initiate anything more. 

Jaemin smiles at you, head tilted in obvious endearment and hand on the small of your back. “Love you,” he says easily, voice sounding more hopeful and relaxed than it had when he first came home.

You smile back, hand resting gingerly across his collarbone. “Love you too.”

After your shower, you grab the towels you laid out previously and insist on wrapping Jaemin tightly up in the white, fluffy towel. He leans into your touch, his skin now warm and soft, making you smile to yourself contently. 

You dress in pajamas quickly, watching Jaemin move around, towel eventually moving to only hanging loosely around his waist as he holds it up and rustles through his drawers for clothes with the other hand.  

You mutter something about having eaten and Jaemin stops his movements abruptly to look up at you guiltily.

You frown, knowing Jaemin’s bad habit of making sure you ate properly but never extending that concern to himself. You also know his habit of having a ridiculous amount of caffeine too. You bite your lip in response, not having the heart to chastise him right now.

You don’t say anything else and instead, leave your shared room to make tea and dig around for other food to make. Your lacking food supply reminds you that a trip to the grocery store was necessary in the near future but you make do with the ramen found in the back of your cabinet.

Jaemin eventually wanders out of your room, seeking your presence as his sock clad feet pad across the tile floors to meet you in the kitchen. He back hugs you, body warm as he slots his chin into the crook of your neck.

You stand together over the stove as you monitor the one pot with the ramen and the other with the tea. “Thank you,” he mutters into the soft material of your sweatshirt and you only hum. “Of course,” you say, “we’ll have a proper meal tomorrow,” you say, voice promising. 

Jaemin smiles, “I’ll cook,” he volunteers, cheek now pressed warmly against yours and you feel the smile, the rising of his cheeks against yours. 

Jaemin eats quickly, occasionally raising his chopsticks and holding the noodles out to you, which you accept as he watches with a small, satisfied smile.

He realizes he actually really likes the taste of the herbal lavender tea you bought, one he originally was hesitant about, attached to his typical monstrous amount of espresso. But it was proving to be relaxing and lulling, just like your presence. Jaemin also realizes that he definitely likes it partly because it reminds him of you.

You leave the dishes in the sink to do later because you had more pressing matters of being wrapped up in blankets with Jaemin, which you think is always an important and pressing matter. 

Jaemin falls onto your mattress easily, tea and shower making more tired and sleepy than he was before, eyes fluttering shut as he watches you move around the bedroom.

At some point, it had started raining but you don’t notice until you're settling into bed, the sound hitting the window pane rhythmically and quietly.

You grab an extra blanket from your closet and drape it across the two of you as Jaemin immediately closes the space between you, fingers prodding at yours until your hands are intertwined in a firm grip. 

Jaemin’s body radiates heat as you’re enveloped in the haze of permanently vanilla and bergamot scented air of your sheets from the faded scent of Jaemin’s cologne. His cheek is squished into your side, in the soft material of your pajama pants as he pulls his body further into you to get comfortable. He sighs, eyes still closed, little puffs of breath escaping the tiny parting of his lips. 

Your hands eventually break apart and your hand comes to run through his drying hair, running through the dark strands soothingly. You continue for a while, noticing Jaemin’s gradually slowing breaths against your side.

Your other hand holds your phone, checking your email and texts, not as tired as Jaemin was- but still incredibly relaxed. You realize that doing all of this for Jaemin does something for you too, extending your warmth to him only fuels the growing warmth and satisfaction inside of you. 

Your movements eventually slow to a stop, assuming he was asleep or close to it but Jaemin almost instantly muffles something between a grunt and a whine of discontent, eyes still squeezed shut. 

“I thought you were asleep,” you say quietly and he shakes his head childishly. He then opens his eyes; so wide and so round and crafted perfectly to look at you so genuinely, watching you dazed but present in the moment and then he’s smiling at you airily. 

“Your lips are soft,” you say randomly as your hand returns to run through his hair. 

“I’ve been using that lip balm that you gave me,” Jaemin smiles proudly, lips puckering momentarily to show off the smooth skin. 

You grin too as he twists to look at you, suddenly attentive with alert eyes. “Thank you,” he says eventually, eyes breaking away from your gaze only to look at you again overwhelming earnestly and intensely, “so much.”

“Of course,” you say easily, “always.”

Always. 

Always sounds incredibly nice and lovely to Jaemin. A lot of things go unspoken between the two of you. But he’s glad ‘always’ doesn’t. It’s nice to hear that kind of reassurance, to know so clearly that your lives had intertwined in a very domestic and easy way. To know you were always there to extend such genuine warmth and care to him. There are a lot of shared promises and words between the two of you, but Jaemin thinks that ‘always’ is definitely his favorite. 

#nct blurbs #nct imagine #nct dream imagine #jaemin imagine #jaemin fluff #jaemin blurb #jaemin scenario #nct scenario #nct fluff

[mochidoie]

one true love - na jaemin

listen to: symphony no. 2 in E minor, op. 27: iii. adagio by sergei rachmaninoff, royal concertgebouw orchestra, vladimir ashkenazy genre: fluff, hopelessly in love prince!jaemin wc: 715 warnings: written in lowercase only

there you are: spinning in the arms of another and the end of your massive ball gown catching glimmer of the chandeliers above. your painted smile is all a show for the entire ballroom to feast on and you're wondering when this song will end.

in the crowd, your eyes lock with prince jaemin immediately and he doesn't shy away from your dazed stare. he marvels back, bidding you a gentle grin before the prince in your arms calls for your attention.

"you stare with admiration in your eyes, my boy." jaemin's mother whispers and slyly taps the back of his hand after witnessing the exchange in looks.

jaemin does not draw his focus away for you, center of the ballroom and breathtakingly stealing the show. "is it obvious, mother?" he chuckles, rolling his lips together and hungry for a turn to dance with you.

but not here. not where there are too many gawking eyes and envious suitors. he wishes for a dance under the moonlight, where the only spectacles would be the stars and the trees. a time where only he can see that beautiful smile of yours brightly on your face.

"i'm your mother. anything you do is obvious to me." she touches up the bang on his forehead and he looks over, seeking guidance from the only person he knew to ever find a true love.

"what should i do?"

"you should stop being cowardly and get your dance." his lungs are full of confidence and he hurries to catch you before another prince can ask for your hand. jaemin practically slides across the floor, clumsily standing right before your widen expression.

"prince jaemin-"

"may we dance?" he says, breathlessly, and extends his palm out for your taking. your heart drums at the grand offer and you simply nod, following him out to the courtyard where you two usually meet.

eagerly, you two find yourself in a more comfortable position compared to the rest of the princes you danced with this evening. his hand is placed delicately on your upper back and he intertwines your fingers high in the sky.

the moonlight is enough to illuminate the two of you, as you're both softly swaying to the sound of crickets and the light breeze. there is no music, but there doesn't need to be with jaemin. he is the only person in this entire kingdom that doesn't need distracting gimmicks to fall right into him.

"seeing you dance with all the ones that do not deserve you, it really did not settle well with me." jaemin speaks in a hush, as if disrupting the night with any decibel higher. your cheek lays on his chest and the sound of jaemin's heart play a soft tune for you. it's quick, but steady.

"well, what took you so long then?" you snicker, peering up at him with eyes full of wonder and curiosity.

he clears his throat, looking away and up at the stars. when he looks back down at you, the stars had found themselves a new place to shine. it's the first time you've seen such a twinkle in someone else's eyes. "princess, it would be disrespectful of me to not wait my turn as much as i wanted to sweep you away."

"ah, you're a fair prince." you giggle and jaemin only wishes to hear it again.

"i am also a patient one, i would wait a lifetime for you." you both come to a halt as the atmosphere between the two of you grow serious and full of love.

he has fallen silent under your intense gaze, "my dear, a lifetime is far too long to wait for someone."

however, he disputes it. "a lifetime to wait for one's true love is worth every second." and in this very moment, as jaemin holds you under the night sky and the bustling indoors only grow louder, you can hear your heart in your ears so loudly.

in this very moment, you fall so deeply in love with the prince before you. with the man who looks at you with twinkling stars in his pupils and a graceful smile, the man who loves you as deeply. the love that burns in your chest feels true and solely exists with prince jaemin.

#nct scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct dream #nct fluff #nct drabbles #nct dream scenarios #jaemin scenario #na jaemin scenarios #nct scenario #nct blurbs

[cu1tsmark]

"Racing Hearts"

Racer Jaemin revved his motorcycle, its engine growling with anticipation, as he eyed his opponent, a mysterious challenger who had recently joined the racing scene. The prize for this high-stakes race was you, Y/N, the object of their competitive desire, though you hadn't agreed to be part of this reckless wager. Your irritation was evident as you stood off to the side, arms crossed and a scowl on your face.

Jaemin flashed his trademark smirk at you, "What's the matter, Y/N? Afraid you'll end up with someone other than me?"

You shot him a venomous glare, "Don't flatter yourself, Jaemin."

The challenger, whose name is leo, stepped forward confidently, his voice cool and collected. "Don't worry, Y/N. If I win, you can decide for yourself."

The race began with a deafening roar, both racers rocketing down the winding street. The thrill of the chase gripped them as they weaved through traffic, a wild dance of speed and skill. Dust and exhaust filled the air as they jockeyed for position.

Jaemin's voice crackled through the helmet's comm, "You're going down, leo!"

Leo replied with equal determination, "We'll see about that!"

The starting signal blared, and the two racers sped off, leaving a cloud of dust behind them. The tension in the air was palpable, and the spectators' cheers filled the street.

As the racers approached the finish line, it was Jaemin who surged ahead, taking the lead. He crossed the finish line first, skidding to a stop triumphantly. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Jaemin sauntered over to you, grinning from ear to ear.

"I told you I'd win," he said, his voice oozing confidence.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't deny the impressed flutter in your heart. However, your annoyance overruled that feeling. "Don't get too cocky," you replied, crossing your arms.

Jaemin leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours. "I think I deserve a reward," he purred, capturing your lips in a surprising kiss.

You pushed him away, flustered and furious. "Don't get carried away," you hissed, though your racing heart betrayed your true emotions.

Jaemin just chuckled and leaned against his motorcycle. "You can't deny that I'm the best," he said with a wink.

Leo then approached and removing his helmet to reveal a handsome face. "You may have won today, Jaemin, but I'll be back for a rematch," he declared. As he walked away after saying that statement to jaemin

You watched the exchange, still fuming but secretly intrigued by the world of racers and the enigmatic men who dominated it.

#nct #nct u #nct imagines #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct dream #jaemin scenario #jaemin drabbles #jaemin drabble #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin #na jaemin

[kpopficsssssss]

Something Different

Jaemin x Reader (ft. Jeno and Haechan)

Genre: angst, fluff - proofread ✅

Summary: A co-worker invites you go clubbing with some other co-workers and friends. Among those includes Jaemin, who you’ve been crushing on since you started working for SM Entertainment as a staff member. But eventually the night gets to you and you just want to go home - who comes to your rescue?

Word Count: 4k

Content Warnings: use of she/her pronouns, reader is y/n, alcohol use, being pretty intoxicated, being distrusting, anxiety bcuz clubs are overstimulating, finger nail picking, I can’t think of anything else

AN: this is sorta based off the premise that you moved to Korea for college and because of your skills (in whatever field) you applied and were hired by SM as staff. You’re usually assigned to work with NCT Dream.

Moving to South Korea, on my own, not too many people i want to keep contact with back home, I could that was getting a little lonely. Life before Korea was filled with pain and heartache. So when I had an opportunity for a fresh I took it eagerly. I very rarely have time to go out and interact with people besides those at work and college. Finals were finally over for this semester and to say my brain was overexhausted was an absolute understatement. The Saturday after finals week I got a text from a co-worker, Sujin, that I’m friendly with - one that I could see myself calling a good friend if only we had more time together - inviting me to come with her and some others to a club the next weekend. I am not a club person, the crowds and the darkness mixed with flashing lights made me light headed and worst of all - I’m a total light-weight. Regardless I accepted, hopefully this was my chance to actually make friends and have someone to talk to. Trust and relationships of any kind were extremely difficult for me due to past experiences, but I was trying to get out of my comfort zone so I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life alone.

I had a little money saved, not a lot, but enough to maybe buy a round or two of drinks for the table. After already accepting the invitation, I asked who all was coming.

Sujin: not 100% :/ I know Jia is going and I’m pretty sure some other staff member, Jaemin, Haechan, And Jeno are going and also bringing a friend

Well fuck. I had been into Jaemin since I started working at SM. He’s just so cute and so handsome at the same time and he’s always able to make me laugh no matter how I’m feeling. I could never tell him though, I’m positive he isn’t interested and I’m not about to embarrass myself with someone I have to interact with several times a week. There’s occasional flirting that makes my beat almost violently but he seems to be that way with everyone. I did my best not to let any of it get to me and keep my relationship and my stance towards him completely professional.

Y/N: oh okay sounds good😙 see you Monday<3

——————————————————————————

*time jump to the next weekend*

(AN: so I have this outfit pictured but, of course, you can do whatever you want :P)

I took a last (actually a few more) looks at my outfit and adding accessories. I was so nervous my hands had a slight shake to them but I persevered. I walked out of my room and into the front area were Sujin and the co-worker Sujin mentioned, Jia, were also making their finishing touches. We all agreed to meet up at my apartment to get ready together and pregame.

“Oh my god! I’m never seen you show so much skin, you look so pretty!” Sujin smiled, excitedly.

“You guys look gorgeous too. I’m so nervous, I feel like everyone is gonna see my whole ass at some point.” I chuckled, tugging the dress down my legs a bit more.

I sat on the couch next to Jia as Sujin sat on the rug underneath my coffee table, carefully gluing a few jewels to her face while staring into a table mirror.

“So how well does everyone know everyone that will be there?” I questioned as I folded my legs up next to me on the couch.

“A higher up staff member is coming, his name is Bumsoo - pretty sure he does something in production. I haven’t really talked to him a lot. Jeno’s friend… I think his name is Jiyun, Jihoon, or something. Haechan and his friend, don’t know his name. And Jaemin and a friend of his, Aera. So not a lot.” Jia stated whiled scrolling through her phone.

My heart sunk so far down I forgot how to breathe for a second. Aera? Is she his girlfriend? Someone he’s seeing? I’ve never heard talk about Jaemin dating or seeing anyone - and it’s kind of part of my job to know these things. Maybe it wasn’t important for me to know from higher-ups but still, there was no talk around the building for it either that I was aware of. Before I could think about what I was saying, I blurted out, sharply:

“Who’s Aera?”

The sound in my voice was very obviously on edge which signaled to Sujin, who was still somewhat paying attention, to pause her gluing. She glanced at me over the mirror with one eyebrow quirked. Before she could say anything Jia answered.

“A friend, I assume - maybe a little more than a friend, who knows. I haven’t heard anything about any of the three dating at the moment.”

Sujin squinted at me as my expression went from stressed to still stressed but slightly relieved. She definitely caught that but she kept it to herself thankfully. I was getting the impression that Jia has the beginning of being a huge gossip. Who knows who would get word of that information of my liking Jaemin. The higher-ups could assign me somewhere else if someone found out but then again maybe they don’t care. Either way, I relieved by her silence.

We chatted a bit more before Sujin politely interrupted and asked about pregaming.

“Oh yeah, almost forgot. I brought a couple different things.” Jia said as she got up and began walking over to her bags.

She brought the plastic bag to the coffee table pulled out two bottles of soju - green grape and apple flavored. I didn’t have the appropriate cups for soju so we all just grabbed regular glass cups and poured however much we saw fit. Once we finished and Sujin was done with her makeup, we called an Uber and left for the club.

——————————————————————————

Immediately stepping into the club, I was overwhelmed. It was a very nice club, very high class it seemed. I had only been to clubs back home and they were far from “nice.” The whole building had a blue tint to it with strobe lights illuminating the dance area. I grabbed onto Sujin’s arm as to not get lost in the crowd. She turned to look at me and giggled - I’m sure my facial expression had a hint of being horrified to it. We eventually made it to the tables on the opposite side of the club from the entrance and looked for our party. It took a minute trying to see through all the people and the loud music distracting almost every sense. Eventually I felt Sujin’s body jerk from side to side, I quickly checked to see what was happening and saw her waving her arm side to side. I guess she found our table. My stomach lit up with what felt like millions of butterflies fluttering around. I was nervous but also extremely excited. Jaemin had never seen me dressed up before, no one had. I felt confident enough to were the nervousness I felt before died down and was replaced with anticipation.

We all greeted each other before we all settled into the seating. Our arrival seemed to trigger a round of shots being brought out to our table, but we then found out that Jeno’s friend had already ordered a round of shots before we had arrived.

Jaemin looked so heavenly and unbelievably sexy. He had a white top and a dark wash jean jacket and black pants from what I could see. His smile so gorgeous and cute that I lost my train of thought for a few seconds. Next to him was Aera, who was not at all what I was picturing. She was a very handsome woman, with a short wolf cut, white button up, blue jeans, and had her keys on a carabiner that was hooked to her belt loop. She was extremely attractive, if I wasn’t so severely down bad for Jaemin I would’ve tried my best to chat her up. We all chatted for a bit, general conversation and ice breakers. I took note that Aera mentioned her partner a couple times, they sound like a very cute couple.

We had pregamed before leaving, nothing crazy, just enough to get a start on a buzz. However, I was so nervous the entire day that I had failed to eat anything in the last several hours. Having now only realized, I panicked a little. ‘I’ll just pace myself until food is ordered’ I thought. I silently prayed to whatever god or gods that the frequency of hard liquor being ordered would be minimal but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

After a couple hours, I was definitely drunk, and it was very obvious. Even in this state I was self aware enough to be embarrassed and tried as hard as I could to act more sober. I tried to avoid talking to Jaemin or even having him see me at all. At some point, I was drunk to enough to go dance with Sujin and Aera. Basically just dirty dancing and grinding with each other, I was having a blast. Eventually going back to the table for more drinks and then back to dancing. At that point, any gracefulness I had in my body was nowhere to be seen. I was stumbling and almost knocked to the ground by the bodies around me. I began to panic a bit and tried to escape the crowd, desperately searching for an exit.

I stumbled out into what looked like an alley, the street lights illuminated the area enough to see almost everything clearly. Both ends were closed off by a gate and completely empty. Was it smart to be in a dark alley alone and drink? Probably not, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to catch my breath. I slumped against the wall and closed me eyes, listening to the faint noises of the city’s night life. Suddenly, I heard a click and the music from inside the club become louder for a few seconds. I turned to attention towards the door and immediately recognized Jaemin’s figure. He made his way towards me as the door slammed shut. I froze and the butterflies came back with a wave of embarrassment. I really didn’t want him to see me so drunk. I straightened up and tried to readjust my clothes without him noticing.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked once he got to a reasonable distance for conversation.

“Oh yeah, I’m good. It’s just really loud in there” I smiled, being diligent with how my words came out.

Jaemin looked around and noticed what I had noticed earlier.

“It’s a little scary out here,” he chuckled, “I’ve wondered what it looked like back here.”

I giggled, definitely too much for what was said, as I stared down at my feet, lightly kicking a rock around, and sighed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, taking a step closer. “You seemed really stressed when you ran out here.”

The butterflies excitement in my stomach intensified. Was he watching me? Had he been watching me all night? I wanted so badly to kiss him and tell him everything I thought about him and how I wanted him to be mine. But I bit my tongue as hard as I could (figuratively) in order to keep cool.

“Um… I guess I’m kinda partied out…” I spoke quietly. I couldn’t help but feel ashamed, like I was ruining the night for others. Sujin, Jia, and I had planned on ubering back together and spending the night at a hotel room. I didn’t want to cancel the plans and have them have to pay for what I was supposed to for my part. My plan was just to wait until they were ready to leave.

“Yeah, me too. I was about to head out. You should too, get some rest, drink some water.”

“I mean.. I would… but I can’t. I don’t really have the money for an Uber after tonight, we were gonna spilt the bill…” Even though I had barely said anything to Jaemin, I felt as though I was going to collapse from lightheadedness and the blood drain from my face.

“I’ll drive you - if that’s okay with you.” The beginning of the sentence was very matter-of-fact. I questioningly looked up at him.

“Aren’t you drunk?”

“No,” he laughed, “it’s been a couple hours since I drank anything.”

“Mmm… I don’t think.. I mean like - I feel bad about you doing that for me.” I stuttered.

“Please, let me take you home. We can talk about how you feel about this later., but for now we need to get you to bed.” Jaemin smiled. It was so beautiful I had to look away to make sure I wouldn’t stare up stare at his lips.

I simply nodded and then I felt Jaemin’s hand on the small of my back to guide me towards the door.

——————————————————————————

Jaemin POV

Usually, going out to a place like this meant looking for someone so we could entertain each other for the night. I would be drinking and dancing and girls would just come up to me and that was that. I always had fun, but not tonight. Tonight, she came, and she looked more than beautiful - there are no words to describe how she looked. I had never seen her dressed this way, her silhouette was so sexy. It took me aback but I quickly regained myself. She greeted me and her smile made me feel as though rays of sunshine ran through my veins. She was so warm and bright, you couldn’t help but love her.

Then, after the first and second round of shots, she got up to dance. And I remembered that everyone else could see her this way too. She wasn’t mine, we barely talked, but I couldn’t help but feel angry at everyone who looked at her. But then again how could I blame them? Right then I decided I needed watch her, make sure her night goes well. It was almost an instinct, she was just so gentle and shy at times. People could take advantage of that.

I watched her dance, smiling and moving her hips and body in a way that suddenly made my pants extremely uncomfortable. ‘She barely talks to me, you’re not even friends, this isn’t your place’ I convinced myself as to not grab her and hide her away. A sudden jab in my arm broke my concentration.

“Did you hear anything I said?” Jeno spat. I jerked my head to face the rest of the people present at the table. Everyone smiling and giggling.

“He was not even on this plane, he was staring at his girl.” Haechan chuckled.

“She’s not my girl.” I mumbled.

“But she could be if you grew a pair.”

I sat back in the seat and thought about that. I had been flirting with her since she starting working at SM but she always shut me down. There’s no way she feels like same… regardless, I continued to look after her.

After coming back to the table for more drinks, y/n and the other girls went back to dancing. I couldn’t help but notice how unstable she seemed. I lost her in the crowd for a minute or two. Just as I stood to look around better, I caught a glimpse of her running to the back exit.

Quickly I started for the door and shouted something along the lines of “I’ll be back” to my friends.

Finally pushing past the last grouping of people I opened the door and stepped outside. I saw her before she saw me, her eyes closed and her skin shimmering from the sweat that had accumulated from dancing, no doubt. The street lights gave her a soft glow. As if her sunshine aura was spilling out into some tangible.

She head turned to me as she opened her eyes and a smile quickly took a hold of her lips. She slowly twirled to face me, her head not leaving the concrete wall behind it. Her cheeks were flushed, she looked so cute I just wanted to squeeze her as hard as I could and kiss all over her sweet face. I could barely focus on the conversation with how mesmerizing she looked right now. I know she was definitely drunk and that it was probably time to go home.

“I mean.. I would… but I can’t. I don’t really have the money for an Uber after tonight, we were gonna spilt the bill…” she pouted, lower lip slightly sticking out. Her state had been declining slowly through the conversation, she looked so tired.

“I’ll drive you,” spilled out of my mouth before I could think, “…if that’s okay with you.” After some convincing, I managed to get her to let me take her home.

——————————————————————————

Y/N POV

Jaemin led me to the table, Sujin and Aera had returned and Sujin immediately started scolding me.

“Where were you? I couldn’t find you anywhere and I called and - you just can’t do that!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t hear it …” I looked down and began picking at my fingernails. I felt so bad for going home so early.

“I’m going to take y/n home, I’ll check with you guys later. Let me know when everyone’s home.” Jaemin said as he gathered his things and mine. Jeno and Haechan seemed upset but with a glint of mischievousness at the same time. Maybe it was my current state playing tricks on me. Sujin and Jia asked me if I was okay and I assured them I was and apologized for leaving. Once Jaemin had gathered everything and paid his part of the tab, he stood and waited for me to finish.

“I’ll send you guys some money for my share, I’m sorry.” I yelled to them as I started to fast walk to Jaemin, I didn’t catch their reply.

Once we reached Jaemin’s car, he opened my door and held out his hand for me to grab as I threw myself into the passenger seat. As he closed to door, rested my head on the head rest and sighed deeply. It was so quiet in here, so still. It was really refreshing. Like I could think again - the alcohol was slowly wearing off but I was still fairly drunk. Jaemin got in the car as I was taking my heels off and neatly sat them together on the floor as to not dirty the floor too much.

Once he had my address typed into the GPS, there was no talking. I didn’t mind though. I was thankful that I could just relax.

After awhile, I words began spilling out of my mouth without much thought as to what I was saying to him.

“You know, what I did wasn’t the smartest idea.” I smiled to myself, my attention on the buildings and trees quickly passing outside the passenger window.

“What did you do?” He questioned - eyes glued to the road.

“I’m letting a strange man drive me to my home. Not only did I get in his car, I gave him my address.”

“I’m not a strange man! You know me, we work together - plus everyone saw you leave with me. The suspect pool would be cut really short.”

I laughed lightly, still smiling. I rolled my head to look at him. His eyes focused, the cuffs of his jacket rolled up to his fore arm, hands on the wheel. My mind was quickly consumed by the need to take one and trace the lines on his palm, maybe leave a few kisses. I managed to redirected my attention back the conversation after a minute or two of imagining holding his hands… and having his hands on me, my body.

“But I don’t know you, do I? You don’t know me either. Maybe I’m dangerous.” I said, still admiring him.

“Well, judging by the way I basically had to carry you to the car and buckle you up, I’d say my chances of successfully defending myself are pretty good.” He snickered.

It was silent again for a couple minutes before he spoke again.

“Do you not feel comfortable around me? Like you don’t trust me?” His tone was cautious, the volume was slightly above audible.

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable with you, I’m very comfortable with you. And that scares me.” I sighed, my attention back to my fingernails.

“I think you’re a good person, you’re nice and you’re always making me laugh, I like you.” I paused for a second thinking of how to word myself. I was starting to sober up some more now.

“But in truth, I don’t know you. You could secretly be a bad person, how would I know? Bad people always disguise themselves that way, they can get to more people and deal more damage that way. You can’t really trust anyone.”

Memories of home, where i came from, started flooding back to me. I began spiraling a bit before Jaemin said:

“I’m sorry that you have to go through life on edge like that. But sometimes you have to open up a bit to see how many good people there are.”

The rest of the way to my apartment was done in silence.

Jaemin parked out front of the building and scanned the area with a frown.

“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really feel comfortable with you finding your way alone at this time of night.”

I’ll admit, the apartment building wasn’t the best or safest one out there. And it definitely looked like it at night.

“Can I walk you to your apartment?”

After a moment of contemplating I accepted and gave him directions to the parking garage. The trek to my apartment was filled with small talk and light-hearted laughter. A drastic change from the major downer bomb I dropped in the car. At this point I wasn’t really drunk anymore, just tired. So the conversations were much more coherent.

When we reached my door, we stood in front of each other awkwardly.

“Thank you… for driving me home… and walking me to my apartment… and everything else.” The last part came out as a laugh. We both giggled together for a second after assuring me it was his pleasure.

My phone dinged, probably some social app, but by instinct I went to check it and noticed the time.

“Oh my god it’s so late.”

“Yeah… I should probably get going then.” He brought one of his hand to back of his head as he threaded his fingers in his hair.

“You could stay the night if you want… I’d feel bad you driving more so late.” I shocked myself with my boldness. No hesitation, I’m giving him a chance. Jaemin grinned and stuttered for a second or two.

“Uh yeah I guess.. I guess I could do that, probably for the best.”

I offered him to take the bed since the couch is pretty small but he refused. I kept getting distracted as I was getting ready for sleep making sure Jaemin was comfortable. Which, in turn, stressed him out and kept saying he’s fine and he’ll manage. After giving him blankets and some of my oversized clothes to change into, we laughed and talked a little more until I was satisfied with his comfortableness.

Jaemin explained the importance of hydrating yourself before going to bed and insisted on standing in the kitchen to watch me drink at least two glasses of water. It was really hard not to choke while laughing at the ridiculousness of it. It felt as if we had been friends for a while, it was so easy to feel safe with him. I managed to down the last gulp, with a few droplets escaping onto my chin. Jaemin chuckled as he pushed himself off the counter he was leaning on. Suddenly he was right in front of me, inches away from my face. My mind went blank as his hand made its way to my face. He gently held my chin between thumb and pointer finger and swiped the droplets from my chin and lower lip.

“I wanted to say this earlier but didn’t have the confidence to,” he spoke so softly and gentle, almost whispering, “I like you too … and I would love more than anything to show you that I’m worthy of your trust.”

AN: thank u for reading, this is my first time writing like this. _(:3 」∠)_

#nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fanfic #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #jaemin #jaemin fanfic #jaemin scenarios #jaemin scenario #jaemin nct #jaemin x reader #jaemin nct dream #nana nct

[haespoir]

fwb!jaemin texts

#im so bored rn im just making a shit ton of lil texts aus WEEEEE #jaemin #jaemin scenario #jaemin scenarios #jaemin texts #jaemin text #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct text #jaemin smau #nct dream #nct dream texts #nct dream smau #nct smau #nct texts #nct

[lucyandthepen]

a lesson on style - vi . [ ljn | njm ]

pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv., pt. v, pt. vi

you’ve always been content with being associated with one word and one word only: average. average in looks, academics and social skills, you’re just looking to graduate high school without causing disasters you’ll have to live with until you kick the bucket. when you’re paired with school king lee jeno for the semester-long physics thesis, you can’t help but think the entire situation has pretty much set itself up for failure. that is, until you strike a deal with your partner. 

alternatively: an au tale involving lessons in popularity, eleven consecutive B­ minuses, a secretly sensitive, chess­-loving jock, and an amateur sex tape.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader, jaemin x fem!reader verse: high school au { jocks!nomin ft. a super cute whiny ap physics genius renjun } rating: M chapter warnings: none word count: 8.1k

author’s note: this was actually supposed to go on for a lot longer but... it might've reached a solid 13-15k and i just thought it would be better to split it into half-ish, so nothing major happens, although i definitely enjoyed yet another mc/jaemin real talk session that i also hope you enjoy! :^)

tagging: @justalildumpling, @spiderrenjunfics (no longer available, please give me your new url if you're still interested!)

You think now is as good a time as any for you to say something that’ll easily impact the trajectory of your life forever; after all, Jeno’s essentially given you the floor after such a strange and honestly shocking turn of events. You’re aware of the fact that his thumb is still traveling across your cheek, more idle as an action than anything else, but you seem to be experiencing the feeling as something closer to an out-of-body experience than an actual first-hand one; the tingles they send to your heart are weird and blurry, like your body can’t process his touch well enough to understand it fully. You suppose it’s because of your confusion at what he’s saying, which leads to your second option: asking him what he means. 

There’s little to interpret at face value, but what his words do is essentially unlock a torrent of other weird questions in your head. For instance: how long had he known that you liked him? Had he known this entire time? Did something you did make it painfully obvious? If he wants you to like him — and, as he says, only him — does that mean he’s essentially accepting your feelings? Does this mean… he likes you back? 

You assume this is one of those moments where, because your mind is going a million miles a minute, a lot of time feels like it’s passed even though it’s just been a small handful of seconds. This assumption is quickly broken by Jeno’s expression of concern. 

“_______________? Say… something.”

“Um,” you start before you can even figure out what you want to say. The easiest answer comes to mind: It’s always only been you. But that’s weird, and this isn’t a 90’s Western movie, and if it were, you certainly wouldn’t be the eloquent main romance interest, even if Jeno’s gaze could easily fool you into thinking that. You think about making a joke, but you’re befuddled and also fresh from tears that — if Jeno’s abrupt story is actually true — were totally useless and unfounded in nature. 

Also, you’re really not that funny to begin with.  

“I just…” you try again, and his eyebrows raise slightly in anticipation for your next words. Nothing else comes out after a few seconds, though, and he realizes this is just another false start, his hand falling onto your shoulder (maybe he’s tired of trying to coax it out of you with the thumb-on-cheek method, which admittedly had you clamping up more than anything else). 

“You can just tell me how you really f—”

“I think I have to go.” 

No. No. Why would you say that? The surprise on his face quickly morphs into something that looks almost crestfallen, an expression you’d never imagine seeing on bright, confident Lee Jeno, let alone ever be the cause of. His hand slips from your shoulder quickly, like he’s now worried touching you will electrocute him. 

“Oh. I’m sorry — I didn’t… mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m… I’m not.” You’re not, are you? “Maybe a little, but it isn’t really you —”

“Something I said, then—?”

“No, I…” Your fingernail digs into the pad of your thumb, with you trying to use the sting of the pain to jolt you out of this nervous, inarticulate state. “I just don’t think… I have anything of value to say right now.”

“What makes you think that?” 

“Because…” Grappling for words is like trying to break through the surface of water; you’re almost there, but somehow you’re still floundering, and that only seems to be making it much worse. “Because I never really thought about what I’d do… if you really found out I liked you.” 

When you say it, it suddenly makes sense. For some reason, you’d always lived your life shuttling between point A (liking Jeno quietly in the comfort of your own mind palace) and point Z (fantasizing about your life with him where you live in a quaint townhouse with a cute mailbox and three kids), but you’d never really given much thought to all the points in between, especially not one that contains a scenario in which he’d find out and seemingly be okay with it, which, based on the current conversation, somehow seems like a reasonable thing to assume about him. 

You’ve always wanted it — him knowing, him accepting it, maybe even him liking you back —  but it kind of felt like, deep down, you hadn’t really believed it would ever happen. 

And you were kind of content with that, because you wouldn’t ever really have to deal with the complications of it. Right now, you’re feeling unprepared and a little exposed, weirdly vulnerable to his gaze. It once again, for the hundredth time tonight, it seems, triggers some kind of flight instinct in you that has you looking anywhere but at him all of a sudden. 

“You can think about it… now,” he suggests carefully. Being put on the spot doesn’t really ever bring out the best in you — a fact that might be known to people who were actually paying attention to your failed impromptu speech about whale hunting in your sixth grade English class — so you just pretend that the silhouette of Jaemin’s front yard tree is supremely interesting to you all of a sudden, never mind the fact that it’s about a few inches from Jeno’s ear from your vantage point. You don’t really want to see his expression right now, especially if that means it’ll only fluster you back into speechlessness. 

“I don’t really know if I can,” you admit. From your peripheral vision, you see what seems like a flash of discomfort pass across Jeno’s face; you’re sure you just imagined it, considering you’ve never imagined cool, aloof, king of your heart Lee Jeno as exuding anything other than utmost confidence. Still, his next words do make you question that notion twice over. 

“Did I… misunderstand something? Is it that you don’t have feelings for me?” 

“No, I… you know. I… yeah, I do, but I just —”

“You’re seeing someone else?” 

“No,” you say more fiercely, and for a brief moment, you’re so appalled at the thought that your eyes flicker to his, which ends up being a terrible mistake because the confusion in his gaze is so profound that the guilt in you swells tenfold. 

“Because I thought… maybe the reason Renjun and you —”

“He’s — honest to God — he’s just my friend.” 

“And Jaemin is…?”

“My… next door neighbor?” You blink rapidly at the lights still coming from his house, wondering now what Jaemin has to do with all of this in the first place. For someone who seems like he would be extremely uninvolved in this general progress of events, he seems to crop up time and again, weirdly always around when you need someone. Maybe it’s a neighbor thing, or maybe he’s a little nosier than you thought. But thinking about another element in this situation is starting to give you a headache, and you’re way past the time you’re usually already in bed avoiding homework and watching shitty dating reality shows instead. “I don’t really understand what he has to do with this either. I just don’t think I’m prepared to have this conversation at all.”

“But you like me, don’t you?” 

It’s weird, actually, now that you think about it — why does he have to confirm the fact time and time again? It’s almost like he’s worried, although you can’t imagine why he would be. More than anything, you’d kind of assumed that he would find that information pretty repellent, but with the way he’s asking in earnest, it almost seems like he wants to keep the knowledge of that like a talisman. 

“I do,” you admit, mostly because it’s out in the open, but also partially because you’ve made the mistake of looking at him again, and you start wondering how he could even wonder when everyone seems to like him (you, perhaps, to a somewhat unhealthy degree). 

“More than them?” 

“I—” Your brow furrows, another wave of confusion washing over you. But his eyes are much too honest in their questioning, and you speak before anything else can come to mind. “More than anyone, Jeno.”

What looks oddly like relief settles on his face, and you notice only then that his shoulders have been tensed up because he seems to relax them all of a sudden. “Oh. Good. Great. So listen, now that we’re on the same page, I—”

Jeno’s interrupted by one of the guys in a university sweater calling out to him from across the two lawns, voice booming to a degree that sets off a few annoyed dogs in your area. Jeno raises a hand to signal him to wait, his mouth still open on whatever words he wanted to complete his sentence with, but the sounds he was trying to make quickly die into silence anyway, drowned out by a huge crash inside Jaemin’s house. 

You’re not entirely certain of what he wants to say — on the bright side, he could have been ramping up to a point that could easily make all your dreams from middle school to now a perfect reality, but he also could have been setting you up for some kind of grand, embarrassing failure — not by his design or by malice but just by the pointing out of the fact that you two lead different lives and things would likely never work out, anyway, but it’d be cool that you liked him in your own time, and he’d allow it as long as you didn’t get drool all over his notebook in class. 

Either way, you don’t think now, with a bunch of inebriated college people shouting profanities on Jaemin’s lawn and a gaggle of high school kids panicking about what sounds to be a broken table and a whole bunch of pizza on the floor, is the best time to be processing those things.

“I actually,” Jeno turns his gaze to you again, strangely alert, like you’d just whistled for a dog’s attention. You’ve never seen him like this, and it’s weird to think that, at this awkward moment, you can still find him painfully endearing. You have to shake yourself out of the grip of the already beckoning force that tells you to sigh dreamily about how adorable he is. “Think I should really be heading inside. Looks like they also need you for some kind of damage control, anyway.”

The same college kid calls for Jeno again, dragging out the vowels of his name kind of annoyingly. Jeno sighs, nodding slowly enough for you to know he’s caught on — this probably isn’t the right time to have such a weirdly heavy conversation.

“Yeah. I probably need to help clean up, anyway. No one’s going to want to do it, and Jaemin’s already chewed me out for bailing on mop duty a few times.”

“Why’d you bail?” 

“Just… got busy, personally.” He looks sheepish, and it doesn’t take a bunch of lightbulbs going off for you to cotton on as well. Now, you’re just wishing you hadn’t asked, so you didn’t ever have to imagine it. Still, what’s done is done. You have to focus on keeping the discomfort out of your face this time. “Um… that’s not important, though. Anyway —I’ll talk to you soon, okay, ________________? Like… maybe we can catch up at school? You know, talk about our thing — the project, I mean — and like… et cetera?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Your smile’s weak, and so is your joke, but you should at least try to hold up casual pretenses as much as he does, even though he’s obviously much better at it. “I’ll tell on you to Hwang if you don’t, you know.” 

His laugh is soft, but it at least sounds genuine; his smile still reaches his eyes, which already makes your heart feel a little lighter. But instead of trekking off immediately, he lingers, strangely, until his grin winnows down into just the ghost of a smile on his lips. Even weirder are his hands, slightly outstretched towards your waist, like he’s trying to cross the gap between you (even if it’s admittedly very minimal) but suddenly decides not to. The result is him looking strangely stiff and uncharacteristically hesitant, but you chalk it up to him simply not knowing how to end such a weirdly situated conversation. You know you’d have an even worse time doing it if it were up to you, so you can’t really blame him. 

In the end, he closes the dialogue with ‘see you around, ________________,’ and a quick pat on the shoulder, which, if you think about it, seems a little disappointingly different from when he’d had his hand against your cheek a few minutes ago. Then again, you’re not sure you could handle something like that again, anyway. 

You watch him walk off back towards Jaemin’s house, and some pitiful, pathetic part of you is expecting him to look back, say one last goodbye to you, or something, but the university guy that had belted his name out so vigilantly just swings an arm around Jeno’s neck and drags him to a corner where a bunch of other similarly dressed people, to whom Jeno starts talking to almost immediately. 

Cutting this conversation short was probably for the best, anyway; you have no idea what he would have said, but you’re very sure you wouldn’t have been prepared for it either way. You trudge into your house and up into your room, already mentally prepared to spend the rest of the night obsessively mulling over what it all meant and what he had really been planning to say at the end. The process starts some time in the shower, while you’re shampooing your hair and you embarrassingly remember the feeling of Jeno’s hand tangled in it. The moony expression that the thought of it leaves on your face is present up until you see how stupid it looks in the fogged up bathroom mirror. 

Renjun still hasn’t texted you, which is honestly starting to be a source of mild anxiety because you can’t be sure if he’s dead in a ditch somewhere or just ignoring you for some unknown reason. Whatever it is, you leave like three messages wondering where he’s at and asking him to call you. You’re on your fourth message, which is asking to confirm about tomorrow’s movie (something you’d almost forgotten about save for the fact that you’d remembered this would be a point of argument for you both once again if you spaced on it) when a notification pops up that once again gives you a heart attack. 

Lee Jeno: u looked pretty tonight, btw :) 

You: oh!! thank you…!

You: you looked great tonight too…! :) 

Lee Jeno: haha… cute :) 

Lee Jeno: goodnight, ____________ :) 

This is the most emojis you’ve ever seen used in a single brief conversation, and you can’t help but feel like it might be a little juvenile, but it doesn’t even matter because Lee freaking Jeno called you pretty and cute in the span of five minutes. Your thumbs are shaking as you type back a typo-laden goodnight that takes you a full other minute just to edit before waiting a little more, but nothing else comes. Maybe he’s driving home, or something. You toss your phone onto your bed, away from easy reach, before you can start overthinking what this silence means again. 

Your reflection in your window mirrors the same scene you’d encountered in the bathroom: you, hair bundled up in a wet towel, bare-faced with a stupid grin across it. You’re so caught up in the act of reeling from Jeno’s three texts that you belatedly notice a square of light beyond your bedroom window. You almost duck out of sight when you see a shadow there, thinking about crying bloody murder, until you realize it’s Jaemin, who’s watching the ridiculous expression on your face with a curious gaze from a distance. He’s still in the same clothes he’d worn to the party, but you can see, even from this far away, that there’s this dark patch on it that looks suspiciously close to the way your shirt had on the day his coke had emptied itself out on your back. That must’ve been from the crash earlier, you deduce. 

You think he’s just zoning out facing in your direction, and you find there’s no need to meet his gaze, but there’s still something a little unsettling about having someone spacing out in your general direction, so you reach up to pull your blinds down. Your hand almost reaches the string, but Jaemin’s hand suddenly starts going up too, like it’s trying to follow you, and you freeze in your movements. His keeps going, though, up until it’s close to his face, and suddenly, he’s moving it side to side, in some weird regular pattern.

He’s waving, your tired, overworked brain tells you belatedly. The string of your blinds tickles the tip of your fingers. 

Unsure and a little self-conscious, you wave back, hoping he doesn’t notice that you were about two strong pulls away from drawing yourself out of sight. This is clearly the right response, because even from this distance, you can see the brilliant white of his teeth as he smiles, fully and unabashedly, at you. 

The first thing you do when you wake up the following morning is check your phone. You’re not even really sure what you’re looking for — maybe a text from Jeno, who, if you think about it now, probably has nothing to say in response to your boring ‘goodnight’ anyway (but you can still dream), or maybe a missed call or two from Renjun, who should at least be offering you some explanation as to why he was completely out of sight after parting ways with you and Mark Lee last night. 

Unfortunately, there’s nothing on your screen, apart from the stupid 번장 notification that tells you the pocket punch board you’ve been wanting for no good reason has been discounted by the seller to a price you still can’t reasonably afford anyway. 

You certainly can’t do anything about Jeno’s lack of contact, and to be completely honest with yourself, you’re not even really that sure if you want to. Something about yesterday’s conversation, while not exactly a train wreck, makes you very nervous to have a full conversation with him, and you’d much rather it stick to very basic, kindergarten-level things, like ‘you look cute’ and ‘haha’ and ‘:)’, but since that isn’t completely in your control, you decide you simply don’t want to do anything about it.

Renjun, however, is a completely different matter. You don’t understand why he’s ignoring you if he is, considering you had spent the better part of the night (at least, the parts during which you weren’t crying on your lawn) looking for him, so this silence, if deliberate, doesn’t seem fair or even reasonable. You decide that it’s much too early to be getting an earful from you in the end, so you just send a very emphatic ‘WRU?????????????????’ through both text message, KakaoTalk, and Facebook Messenger to him, hoping the repetition of both sentiment and punctuation mark through multiple platforms is enough to faux-yell to him what you’d otherwise be real-yelling to him over the line. You can’t tell if it gives you any sense of comfort to see he hasn’t been online and active for the last 15 hours. 

All the tossing and turning of last night, courtesy of the endless loop replay of “I want you to like me — just me” Lee Jeno edition, had consequently left you worse for wear; you’d gotten up at the rising of the sun (something you’d sworn never to do during the weekend) and had opted to just stay in bed for another hour, trying so hard to get over the feeling of his fingers against your skin that you end up committing it to long-term memory. The sunlight peeking through your blinds is what gets you to throw off your covers and admit defeat to the fact that sleep would never come back at this rate, and you decide to just head down, rubbing the lethargy out of your eyes before you make a poor man’s breakfast. You’re halfway through the jelly slice of your sandwich when your sister comes through the doorway, yawning loud to announce her presence. 

“G’morning, bedhead baby,” she greets, and you use the non-knife-holding hand you have free to rake through your hair. “Big rager last night, huh?” 

“Yeah — wait, how’d you know?” 

“We live a door down from Jaemin oppa’s house? Na Jaemin? Our next door neighbor and his whole family? We can see out the window into his lawn? Sometimes we get our sidewalk trash cans mixed up with theirs? Hello?” Sooyeon smirks, albeit a little sluggishly, as you wave her grating words away. “I saw you out there with him, you know.”

“With who? Where? Who?” You demand, your jelly-laden knife freezing in mid-air, the grape blobs slipping dangerously off the edge onto the middle of your bread.

“You. And Jaemin oppa,” she says each syllable slowly. “In front of our house.” 

“Oh.” 

“So usually how these conversations go is: I bring up a juicy piece of information pertaining to you, and because you experienced it first hand, you have to then expound on the piece of information, thereby making it juicier. ‘Oh’ doesn’t cut it. Not by a long shot.” 

“There’s not much to tell.” You wonder, briefly, if you’re now obligated to bring up the Jeno aspect of the night — which, for all intents and purposes, honestly felt like more of a big deal than anything else — but you quickly decide against it, chickening out when she approaches you at the counter and starts unscrewing the lid of the peanut butter jar. That might be giving too much away, considering she didn’t even seem to notice that you’d been bawling when you’d crossed the property line. “He just walked me back here.”

“Oh, yeah, because that’s what people who live next to each other in a not-so-close-knit community do: walk each other two steps home, to keep the baddies away.” 

“He’s just a naturally nice person, I think. Most people are, aren’t they?”

“I thought you guys were close. Didn’t he give you his varsity jacket? That sounds like a closeness thing.” She knots her index and middle finger together, and you slap it away. 

“We’re close only in the same way as you are.” When she gives you a quizzical look, you sigh. “Proximity-wise.” 

“Still doesn’t explain why he was out there, caressing your hair lovingly.”

You freeze, as opposed to Sooyeon’s comically relaxed posture as she scrapes the peanut butter across your other slice of bread. “He… was not. Caressing me. My hair. Lovingly.”

“I have eyes for the sake of seeing.”

“There was just something in it. In my hair. A leaf.” 

You’re not sure why you lie; the largest part of the reason is that you don’t want to have to go into the horrifyingly awkward details of your emotional state last night, but there’s something oddly nagging at you that you can’t quite place. It takes a minute of staring at your sister spreading the peanut butter evenly across the bread and humming to herself while closing the sandwich up that you realize that you don’t want her getting the wrong impression about anything.

Which is weird, because there’s nothing to misunderstand. 

Jaemin, albeit the fact that he’s been chattier to you as of late, more so than any other time in your life, is still just your neighbor. Maybe he’s graduated from being your sort-of acquaintance to something that vaguely resembles an arm-distance-ish friend, but the notion that you’re anything closer than that makes you feel a bit strange — almost like it… scares you, which is extra weird to think about, because there’s actually nothing inherently harmful about being casual buddies with some guy who lives close enough to wave at you from his window. 

Maybe it’s because it’s Jaemin, and that’s what might be tripping you up the most. He’s not just Jeno’s friend; he’s practically some kind of counterpart to him, and it feels weirdly like a line you can’t cross. Or maybe it’s because… Jeno had asked you about him last night, which had made you feel even stranger. Like he’d been worried about something — like Jaemin was a no-go zone for him, specifically. 

As you dully watch your sister take a bite off of your breakfast, it dawns on you: maybe you just don’t want people to think you like anyone other than Jeno. 

“Okay, well, you know better than I do,” she singsongs in a tone that tells you that you actually don’t. Sooyeon doesn’t press, but she also doesn’t make you feel like the conversation is over — even if she trills I’m going back up; thanks for the sandwich in that same voice before leaving you alone in the kitchen with half of it on the plate. 

Because the truth is that you don’t really know; you don’t know what’s so unsettling about being associated with Jaemin. Your sister’s not aware of the intricate ins and outs of your (delusional) relationship with Jeno, apart from your (apparently evident to everyone) crush on him, but you also know she’s not really deeply invested in where your heart lies; all she does is make conversation, as is her personality, as a form of bonding you’ve never really quite been able to navigate well. 

You just don’t get why the mention of Jaemin, now, makes you feel… something. What that is, you’d rather not dwell on. So you just won’t. 

You’re walking out of the kitchen, cheeks filled with peanut butter and jelly, when you see block letters on cloth, spelling out a familiar last name: Na. 

You still haven’t given back Jaemin’s stupid jacket. 

Today is the day, you decide. This seems to have started the whole conversation to begin with: the jacket that somehow brought Jaemin two steps closer into your life, the article of clothing that had opened the door to what shouldn’t even be a talking point between you and anyone else. 

This should be the proverbial swan song for this whole topic; you snatch up his jacket (and immediately regret doing so in such a brutish manner, noticing you’ve got a few specks of breadcrumbs on the lettering) and head out of your house, your bedroom slippers absorbing morning dew as you march yourself over to your neighbor’s. You should’ve done this earlier, really; there was no reason for you to hold on to it. 

Honestly, you’d just forgotten, given that you were more preoccupied with things that started with L and ended with ee Jeno, but you’d rather not extend any more misunderstandings. 

And even if Jeno isn’t here to see this grand closing gesture, maybe, just maybe, this will help you stop feeling so cagey about everything he’d asked last night. 

I want you to like me — just me. 

Because why would he even think you liked Jaemin at all? Or make it sound like he thought you did? Ridiculous. Unfounded. Kind of alarming. 

There’s noise in the air the closer you get to the Na household porch; it sounds a bit muffled, like it’s fighting the breeze, but you realize thereafter that it’s music coming from a tiny speaker sitting on the hand railing. It’s playing Dongbangshinki’s Here I Am, and something about that song stirs your stomach into swooping ten miles down as you approach. 

Your initial plan was to ring the doorbell and pray that Jaemin was still knocked out cold on a Saturday morning so you could pass the jacket off to one of his parents and be done with it, but you’ve no such luck; it seems like he’s an early riser, considering how he’s seated right there, on a wicker chair by his door, hunched over a half-played chess board. There’s no one across him to block his view of you coming up the steps, and he looks up the moment he hears the creaks of the wood under your feet. 

“Hey, ______________,” he doesn’t look surprised; in fact, he looks a bit relieved, for some inexplicable reason. “Didn’t think you’d be up so early.”

“Could say the same for you.” You have no idea what causes heat to flush across your cheeks; has Na Jaemin’s gaze always been this intense? “Um. Good morning?”

“Morning.” His laugh is an easy one; it always has been, and it kind of suits him, you note, before you realize how weird it is to think that. “What’ve you got there? Gift for me?” 

“Wha — oh, yeah, I mean — no, but it is for you.” You hold up his jacket, hooked on your forefinger, to reveal it to him. “Sorry it took so long to give it back.”

This time, he actually looks a bit taken aback. “Did you stop needing it?” 

“Um… I haven’t really used it, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh. Well, there wasn’t any rush. You could’ve kept it for as long as you needed. No pressure, or anything. I’ve got others.”

“You don’t need it at practice, or anything like that?”

“No; most guys don’t even keep theirs. They give them away, for… you know. So it’s no big deal.”

You fall silent; for some reason, his tone makes it seem like he wants you to keep it, which is just preposterous. You instead hang the jacket onto the back of the wicker chair opposite him and step back, like you’ve just set up a land mine you’re afraid of detonating. 

“Well, thank you all the same. I really… appreciate your help. That day. You know.” You’re not sure why you can’t form any sentences long enough to signify you do actually belong in the same year level as him, but he at least doesn’t comment on your ineloquence.

Instead, he just stares for a bit, at the jacket and your retreating hand, before piping up over his music. 

“You wanna play a round?” 

“What? Oh, I’m…” You wave your hands aimlessly. “I’m not good at chess. Actually, I barely know the rules. Plus, you seem kind of busy playing against… your imaginary friend?”

He chuckles again. “Just playing myself.”

“Trying to outfox the old fox?”

“Sometimes it helps to know how you’d get out of a sticky situation you made by your own doing. Helps you see what your opponent sees when it all boils down to it.” He gestures again at the chair across him. “Humor me a little. It’s not as fun just talking to yourself.”

You hesitate for a second; you came here to return the jacket, and that much was done easily, albeit a little more awkwardly than you ever wanted to. Jaemin’s aura is laid back and friendly, but you’re not sure why you’re teetering on the edge of panic again. Jeno’s words seem to be echoing in your head.

And Jaemin is…?

Jaemin is your next-door neighbor, it’s true, but you can’t say that’s really your only point of connection; if it were, he wouldn’t be expectantly waiting for you to take the seat across from him. And when you look at his hand now, idle against the chessboard, you can’t say you aren’t thinking of the way it patted your hair soothingly the night before. All that does is make you wonder the exact same thing Jeno asked you. 

What is Jaemin to you? A friend, perhaps, and definitely a nice person — nice enough to help you out, keep you company during a few low points. He’s a person willing to listen to you, funny enough to lift your spirits, and genial enough to not break your fingers for returning his things way too late (a low bar, but a good one nonetheless). Na Jaemin is a good individual, with pretty good music taste (based on the fact that his playlist, trudging on next to him, is now playing H.O.T.’s Happiness), and a good disposition about him that seems to make no small amount of people gravitate towards him. 

But you don’t really want to dwell on what Jaemin is to you; more than that, you can only really be reminded of what he isn’t. 

He isn’t Jeno. 

And Jeno knows you like him; he’s not only noticed it but confirmed it multiple times in a single conversation. Surely, then, nothing else should matter to him — or, for that matter, to you. 

You swallow down the refusal and nod, trying not to read into the fact that Jaemin’s face lights up when you pull the chair back and settle down on it. 

“So let me get this straight; you don’t know how to play chess?”

“I know a couple of pieces go in weird directions,” you admit. “That’s about it.” 

“Perfect.” His long fingers drum against the wood of the table. “I’m going to whip you into competitive chess-playing shape, my young pupil.” 

What starts off as a casual, humor-filled lesson on the roles of each chess piece suddenly becomes an actual lecture; you’re not sure if Jaemin is getting a kick out of instructing a rookie like you on the different plays — which are infinite, a fact he’s drilled into you several times — or if he’s really just enthusiastic about the game (no, sorry, sport, since he’s chastised you about three times on this terminology already), but whatever the reason is, you have chess pounded into your brain for the better part of an hour. By the time he asks you to actually start playing against him, the sun’s fully up in the air and you’ve had to tie your hair up to keep it from sticking to your neck. 

“I’m glad you got home safe last night,” he hums, pushing his black pawn to meet yours in the middle of the board. The Italian Game, he called it — not to be confused with serenading someone over pasta, a different kind of Italian game. That had gotten a long laugh out of you. Your hands flit over the white pieces, unsure of your memory. You only respond when you’ve moved your bishop to the same row. 

“Well, it was a very long and tumultuous journey, but I managed, with some help.” 

His knight comes out next, smoothly and quickly; you pause, rubbing the back of your neck. Surely, there was something else he’d taught you? 

“What a chivalrous, ah, knight, that person must’ve been.” He raps a knuckle onto the table, starting you out of the act of racking your brain. “Perfect joke. Well-timed. Excellent chess pun. I think I deserve an award.”

“Does whooping my ass two moves into the game count as a prize?”

“I don’t want to rob you of the feeling of hope this early in the match. Take your time,” he chuckles, leaning back against the throw cushion behind him. He fiddles with the speaker, and the songs skip one by one, until he lands on a song you don’t know — some Japanese track that sounds suspiciously like an animation opening. It’s lively and admittedly a bit loud, and Jaemin hums to the guitar riffs with surprising accuracy. “Anything interesting happen when I left?”

You freeze for a moment, your fingers still hovering over your own knight in hesitation. You know what he’s asking, and for some reason, you’re tempted to tell him — then you remember that it actually isn’t really his business, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself. 

“Not really.” You feign casual disinterest as you move your knight above your pawn line; from here on out, you have no clue what to do. Jaemin, on the other hand, is so sure-footed about his own skills (which are infinitely more advanced than yours) that he doesn’t even take his eyes off you to look at the board as he moves his next piece. You’re stuck thinking about what to do again — in the game, that is. Not about his gaze, which you try to avoid. “Just, you know. Talked with Jeno for a bit. Nothing major.”

Nothing major to him, you remind yourself. To you, your entire world had just been flipped over onto its belly.

Jaemin hums again, this time in understanding, but you notice (from your very surreptitious glances of him) that this time, it seems like he’s choosing what to do. You think it’s for the game, but when he counteracts your own (poorly planned) move with a swift response from his own pieces, you get the odd feeling he’s trying to choose his words carefully. 

“Was it a conversation where you all got along?”

You hadn’t argued, but you’d never really thought about the whole stint long enough to classify it as good or bad. You supposed it wasn’t anything horrible in the end, although the fact that it had robbed you of precious hours of sleep wasn’t exactly the best outcome. But Jaemin’s not watching your expression now; he’s intently looking at the board, even if he’s not the one about to make the next move. 

You get the feeling he’s suddenly avoiding eye contact too, which is weird, because he’s never been one to shy away from looking you straight in the eye. For some reason, that makes you feel like he doesn’t want to hear an answer. 

“It was fine. Nothing… bad happened.” You know that’s true, but somehow you feel like it’s still not truth. “He explained… stuff. Who she was. Why it happened. Totally understandable stuff, I think.” 

You choose not to mention anything apart from that — that he’d asked you to like him, nor that he’d asked you about your relationship with Jaemin. More than deciding it wasn’t going to be anything contributive to the conversation at hand, you also just didn’t want to. 

Jaemin stays silent for a while; he moves his piece, then taps his queen — for some reason, he’s letting you know something about his next move. What it is, you haven’t puzzled out; it’s not like you know which direction he’d be taking, and even if you did, you’d surely not know how to respond to it, anyway. You guess he’s just throwing you a bone, but why he would, you also just don’t see the reason for. 

You’re pushing your pawn hesitantly diagonal to capture one of his when he speaks up again. 

“Did he tell you how it ended? With the two of them, I mean.”

He says it so calmly, capturing your bishop with his queen in the process, that you feel like you’re just talking about the weather and who won yesterday’s league basketball match. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, clearing your throat, but you only actually manage to shake your head. 

“She cheated on him. Some college guy that she met during her orientation; you know she’s older than him, right? He’s never dated seriously since then. I think he was really hung up on her for a while — until recently, that is. I think. He hasn’t been that close to many girls.” 

“That’s… that’s awful.” You’re not sure why Jaemin’s telling you this; it honestly feels illegal to know. “I didn’t think… anyone would. Cheat on him, I mean.” 

“Even good-looking bastards like him can have rotten luck.” Jaemin’s smile borders on wry. “I don’t know why she showed up, honestly. Word probably got around… but she probably just wanted to know what would happen if she stirred something up with him one last time. He likely didn’t see it coming.” 

You stare at the board, unsure of what to say. It makes sense, but something doesn’t really sit right with you either — why Jeno would let her come close to him at all, let alone allow her to completely eliminate the distance between his mouth and hers for longer than a second. Even thinking about it makes you want to throw up all over again. 

“But deep down, I don’t know if Jeno completely got over her.” Jaemin continues, snapping you out of your short trance. “For a while after, they kept in touch. I think they even tried to work it out, but… obviously, it wasn’t easy. Until now… I’m not really sure.” 

“Why,” you swallow hard. “Why… are you… why should I…”

“It’s not easy to be a player when you don’t know much about the game, is it?” He’s still staring at the board, but you get the sense that he isn’t just talking about chess. “Like I said, Jeno’s a pretty complicated guy. It’s not really my place to say anything, but…” Jaemin’s eyes flit upward for a second, and he offers you a small, almost pitying smile. “I think you need to know anyway.” 

“But it has nothing to do with me. His life… I mean, his ex, and stuff.”

“I’m not too sure about that. If you like him that much… doesn’t that just mean you want to be part of his life?” He topples a pawn of yours, but you barely register the clattering noise or the fact that he drags it unceremoniously off the board. “I think you should at least know what you’re getting into. Jeno hasn’t liked someone seriously for a while, but you seem… to be the opposite. How much do you actually know about what he’s like?”

You don’t know why that kind of hurts your feelings; maybe it’s just because you have to face some kind of truth about how you don’t know much about Jeno’s private life, as badly as you want to. You even have to hear about it from someone else — someone easily kicking your ass in a dumb chess match. 

“I think everyone has baggage,” you say slowly, pushing your rook forward. You realize it’s trapped behind two different pawns, so you’ve essentially backed the piece into its own corner. Jaemin doesn’t seem to care; he’s too busy executing what clearly is a ten-stage strategic win on the other side of the board. You don’t really care.

“That’s true,” he concedes, toppling your knight. “But some more than others, I think.” 

“If he wanted me to know, he would’ve told me, right? Yesterday, I mean.”

“That’s may also be true, although I can’t say that with absolute certainty.” He looks thoughtful, and the pause gives you a bit of reprieve — enough to make a bad move that you instantly regret the moment you put your one remaining bishop on a square. Something like amusement flickers across Jaemin’s face, but he doesn’t make a move immediately. “Do you know what makes chess such a great game? In my opinion, anyway.” 

“No?” The uncertainty in your voice is from a lack of understanding at the sudden shift in topic. 

“Whenever you play someone, you get to see what they’re like — what their priorities are, you know?” His finger lands on a rook, inching it back and forth with idle intent. “You see how their mind works, what they’re like when they’re winning or losing, and what they think of you. Check, by the way.” 

You’re silent as his rook captures your bishop, and he picks your fallen piece up and sets it aside with his growing pile of white. 

“I’ve actually asked Jeno to play with me a few times, just for the fun of it. Sore loser,” he laughs lightly, one hand reaching out to lower the volume of his music. You notice the opening bars of Winner’s Really Really come through moments before it’s toned down. “Doesn’t really know or care about the rules, but he really likes to win. That’s kind of what makes him the star player on the team, actually. He really hates being backed into a corner, but all that focus on winning kind of tunnels his vision sometimes. Leaves him open to some attacks from another angle. He really hates that — which is probably why we barely play chess together in the first place. Apart from the fact that he thinks it’s boring.” 

You’re staring at your pieces, now very pitifully winnowed down in number, and you feel stuck. You’re not sure what to do, but you’re pretty sure any move is going to make you look dumb in front of Jaemin, who’s clearly a pro — so much so that he seems to know what you’re going to do before you even decide yourself. 

“You know what I like about your playing style, though?” He interrupts your train of thought again. You look up from the board, bemused; you’ve just been struggling to humor him since your first move, and it obviously isn’t working, since he seems more invested in the conversation than in the game. “You’re just trying your best, even if you’re new at this — even if you think you’re going to lose.” 

“I just don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten everything you just said,” you respond, smiling weakly. 

“You can’t always predict what’s going to happen in a game, even if you know the pattern anyway. Isn’t that just natural about anything in life?”

“You seem to know, though,” you grumble, tugging on your ponytail. You throw in the only option you have left: pushing your queen in front of your king as a last line of defense. “You’re barely paying attention to the board.”

“It’s just constant practice — a lot of hard work on my part. I don’t mind the grind of it, if it gets me somewhere good in the end.” 

“So is that the kind of player you are? Just… a hard worker?” 

“Maybe. I like to look at things from every possible angle. I guess that’s why I like chess when most people find it a headache.” He picks up his queen, rolling it in his palm. “Although, I guess Jeno and I have one thing in common — as players, that is.”

“What’s that?”

“I also really hate to lose.” 

His queen knocks over your own with a pitiful clatter, taking its place on the board. When he picks up your piece, instead of adding it to his knockout count, he offers it to you. You take it gingerly, opting to focus more on it than on the soft smile that’s now playing on Jaemin’s lips. 

“Checkmate,” he announces lightly. “Good game, _____________. You’ve got the makings of a star player.” 

“You’re patronizing me, aren’t you?” You sigh as the two of you start resetting the board; you have to watch Jaemin’s pieces get rearranged to position your own. 

“Only a little bit. I see a lot of quiet drive in you.” 

You place the last of your pawns in a neat row; the board looks like it hadn’t even been touched. “Jaemin, how did you and Jeno become this close? You seem… I don’t know.”

“Yeah, we’ve definitely got our unique quirks,” he chuckles softly. “But Jeno and I… we just go way back, I think. When you’re friends with someone from a young age, you tend to grow with them. He’s a good dude, really, even if our personalities are different, and it’s always a fun event so long as he’s around. Well — mostly. I’d say a good ninety-nine percent of the time.” 

You pointedly ignore the sheepish smile he throws your way. 

“You said before that you’re not the type to… you know, share your feelings, and all that. Then how do you… like what do you guys even talk about?”

“What do you and Renjun usually talk about?” Jaemin grins. “Anything and everything, really. Movies, games, why the jerk from Yongsan International gets on our nerves when he chews his gum. We just… have a tendency to be interested in the same things, no matter if our perspectives are different.” 

While talking to Jaemin is fun, you can’t help but feel like he has a tendency to speak in riddles. You still don’t really see any strong similarities in their approaches to their interests, similar as they may be, but what do you know, anyway? It isn’t like you and Renjun are exactly peas in a pod on paper.

His eyes lose focus for a second, hitting somewhere behind your ear before they quickly turn back to you. You have no idea why this makes you feel a little put on the spot. 

“Hey, you want to have brunch here? My mom makes a mean soybean paste stew.”

“Oh,” you press your hand against your stomach, wondering if the swooping feeling in it is from hunger or something unrelated. “No, I actually just ha—”

“_____________?” 

You swivel around in the chair, and your heart stops; you're not the least bit prepared to see Lee Jeno standing at the foot of Jaemin’s porch steps, a quizzical look very clearly etched on his sharp features.

#jeno x reader #jeno x you #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin scenarios #jaemin drabbles #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenario #jaemin drabble #jeno imagines #jeno imagine #jeno scenarios #jeno scenario #jeno drabble #jeno drabbles #nct x you #nct x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct imagine #nct drabble

[lowkeychenle]

Enchanted [NJM] (1)

Description: As the crown princess, you shouldn't be entertaining any matches that couldn't benefit your kingdom. Love is not an option, not a choice, and unfortunately for you, your betrothed's royal guard seems to be catching your attention more than he ever could.

Genre: Eventual smut/fluff/angst (this is more of an introductory chapter y'all)

(this is also unedited so do with that what you will)

Word Count: 2,666

Warnings: Mature themes, mentions of death

Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader x Mark Lee (Lee Minhyung) (mentions of Jisung, Haechan, and Chenle)

Enchanted Mini-Masterlist | Requests

“Your Highness.” Minhyung bows before you, eyes closed as his onyx-colored hair falls in front of his forehead. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

You sit in your throne, posture impossibly straight, staring down at the man before you. He’s everything they told you he’d be. Handsome, kind, and gentlemanly. You should be thrilled he was advertised correctly, but your face stays blank.

“Your Majesty.” You nod in response.

While you’re the Crown Princess of your kingdom, Minhyung is King. You stand, heels gently clicking against the marble flooring as you approach him. His eyes flick upward, his face beautifully chiseled as he holds an arm out to you.

“Allow me to guide you.”

Guide me, you think, inwardly scoffing. As if I’d ever need anyone to guide me along my own kingdom.

The throne room is shrouded with gold, the otherwise white interior shining brightly through drawn curtains. Even though you hesitate, you take his arm and allow him to lead you away from the comfort of your superiority. In this room, you are more. Out there, you are nothing.

Three guards stand by the door, standing pin straight. The tallest of them is only that by a smidge, his face blank and staring forward. He catches your attention first. Not in the way guards usually do, as you analyze all of them to make sure you are never led astray by an impersonator. Something about him makes you pause. He feels familiar. At the sight of him, your heart stops. The armor covers most of him, but you don’t pretend not to notice his deep cedar gaze averting away from you every time you look up.

“Don’t let them worry you,” Minhyung mutters, the closeness of his proximity causing you to jump.

“Worried? Me?” You scoff, brushing your hair over your shoulder. “You have a lot to learn about me if you think this is worried.”

He smiles. “I do intend to learn, Your Grace.”

“You have three guards here,” you point out. “I wasn’t aware you’d need three in rotation for you.”

“You’re correct. I only need two. I brought along a third for your rotations. Not that I don’t trust your men, but I guarantee they are not like mine.” Minhyung gestures to the three of them. He starts with the one you already noticed. “Jaemin will be yours. As for Chenle and Haechan, they are with me.”

“I assure you, I do not need your protection.” Or Jaemin’s.

“I’m afraid I must insist,” Minhyung continues. “With our wedding mere weeks away, this is for the best.”

A small fire lights in the pit of your belly, your eyebrows furrowing as you nearly roll your eyes at his assumption. “King Minhyung,” you said. “Are you insinuating something?”

“I would never.” He gives a firm shake of his head. “Believe me when I say that. It would be wrong for me to come into your home and perpetuate lies. Jaemin will take good care of you, that I promise.”

The other two guards—Haechan and Chenle—share a quick glance. You pretend not to notice them, only to hone your attention on Jaemin. His hair is the color of coal, hanging like a curtain over his forehead. He wears no emotion, not even a single hint of being alive underneath the hard exterior. It makes you curious, no matter how much you know you shouldn’t think that way.

“Very well.” You give in begrudgingly, hoping this Jaemin will at least be good company.

“I’m glad we can agree.” Minhyung flashes a brilliant smile, hands clasped behind his back. “I have some business to attend to while I’m here, so I must be off. If I don’t see you again before the day’s end, it was a pleasure to meet you, Princess.”

“Enchanting,” you reply. “Truly.”

Despite the lack of feeling in your tone, the King before you flushes a slight pink. An odd thing for a king to do, in your opinion, but you’d let it slide. He’s going to be your husband. In a few short weeks, you’d be Queen of his kingdom and he’d be in line to be King of yours.

Minhyung leaves, Chenle and Haechan trailing after him. Jaemin stays put, rigid as a board, awaiting instruction. Whether from you or Minhyung, you couldn’t be sure.

“You may be at ease when it’s only me,” you say.

In the newfound emptiness in the room, your voice echoes along the brilliant dome encompassing you. Jaemin doesn’t move. You frown, taking a few slow steps toward him.

“It’s rude to ignore your Princess,” you mention.

His jaw tightens, but he continues to stare straight past you.

“Oh, so now you don’t want to look at me?” You let out a small hum of thought, a short laugh following. “Must you?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” He bows his head in respect.

“We’ll have to change that.” You brush off the skirt of your dress. “You know, you have to follow me everywhere.”

“I am aware.” Jaemin pauses, stealing a brief moment of eye contact.

“Has he instructed you to follow me into my bedroom?” You feign surprise, knowing Minhyung would never. “That’s a bit scandalous, isn’t it?”

“I’m to be stationed outside of your bedroom, Princess.”

“A shame, really.” You sigh.

His eyebrows furrow deeper, but that’s the only sign he heard what you said. Men are usually easier to crack than this, but Jaemin’s resolve is unwavering. As Princess, remaining pure is important. Purity, in your mind, is relative. How can someone be pure when they have awful thoughts?

Whether physical or mental, purity is a concept. Something created to bring you down while uplifting your male counterpart.

“I shouldn’t be speaking to you,” he mutters, averting his gaze once more. “Apologies, Princess.”

“You report to me, yes?”

No response.

“Ah, so you can only speak to Minhyung…” you trail off. “Hm.”

The longer you talk to Jaemin, the quicker you start to believe this is less of a marriage and more of a hostile takeover. How can Minhyung assign someone to watch you, but not allow them to speak to you?

Surely, you and Jaemin could be friends, right?

“As lovely as I’m sure you are,” Jaemin begins. “I’d prefer to keep my head attached to my shoulders.”

You almost audibly laugh. Minhyung seems harmless. When it comes to his guards, you’re sure the only thing they’d get is a slap on the wrist and a verbal reprimand. There are plenty of eligible women for Minhyung to marry, yet somehow, he ended up requesting your hand.

“If it makes you feel better, he’d at least need a few swings. He doesn’t seem all that strong.” You wait for the smile to form on his face, but it doesn’t.

“His strength is not relevant. You act as if he would be the one to behead me in the first place.”

“Well, if it’s Haechan or Chenle, they’ll need more strikes than Minhyung would.” You look down at your manicured nails, picking at the ends of them.

“He is your King.” Jaemin frowns.

Regardless of your conversation, he’s as still as a stone. He hasn’t moved a muscle since you began speaking to him.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Jaemin, was it?” You close the distance between you two, forcing him to look in your eyes as you finish your thought. “I don’t have a King. Nor do I need one, so you’d do well to remember he’s here because he needs me. Not the other way around.”

The angle of his jawline sharpens, and you know you’ve hit a nerve. These guards seem quite close to Minhyung. It makes you wonder if they’ve befriended their king, or if it’s just blind devotion.

At that moment, you decide you’re going to do your best to make his life hell incarnate. If he wants to take Minhyung’s side when he’s meant to be your guard, you wouldn’t make it easy for him. A game of cat and mouse, perhaps. Maybe you’ll make him chase you to the ends of the Earth, and you’ll be the most dangerous mouse in existence.

You reach up and trace a finger across his cheekbone. “You’re on my territory. Don’t think I won’t step on any snakes in my way.”

“Is that a threat?” he asks, wetting his lips with a quick brush of his tongue.

“Nothing of the sort.” You wave him off. “A lady doesn’t make threats. She makes promises.”

“And that’s what you consider yourself?” he quips. “A lady?”

You’re pleasantly surprised by his boldness. Not every man—especially not a guard, at that—would be able to go toe-to-toe with you and live to tell the tale.

“I do, in fact.”

“Does a lady attempt to seduce her betrothed’s guards?”

This has your head thrown back in laughter, hand clutching the necklace clasped around your throat. Seduction wasn’t exactly at the forefront of your mind, but if that’s what he wants, you’d certainly give it to him. The double standard of purity for women and straight up promiscuity for men would come to an end in your kingdom. You wouldn’t allow it.

“What’s your surname?” you ask, tilting your head after you calm down from your humor fit.

“Why?”

“Tell me your full name,” you command, ice shooting through your tone.

“Na Jaemin.”

“You’ll only hear me say this once, Na Jaemin, so listen closely.” You lean closer to him, watching him squirm beneath your weighted gaze. “Attempts are feeble. I attempt nothing. I succeed. Never underestimate me, for if I wanted you in bed, I’d have you there.”

Before he has the chance to respond, you whirl around and head toward the door. He lets out a deep exhale you’re sure he didn’t want you to notice, and he follows you as you make your way down the equally stunning hallways.

As night falls, Jaemin is still trudging behind you. It’s almost humorous, the way he follows you around like a lost puppy. Sure, it’s his job, his life’s duty, but it didn’t make it any less entertaining for you.

You had the freedom to choose certain aspects of your own life. Jaemin would never have that luxury. And if you continue to take him down the path you want, you’ll put him in more danger than you could possibly fathom.

If he were to ever lay a hand on you, even if he glanced in your direction for too long, he would die for your carelessness.

But chance is always a game you’re willing to play, especially when you’re not the one at stake.

You open your bedroom door, looking around the hallway to ensure no one else is around. He’s done fairly well at ignoring you thus far, but you weren’t done with him. Not yet.

“Goodnight,” he says, turning to face the opposite wall without another acknowledgement in your direction.

You smirk, walking into your grandiose room without closing the door behind you. The marble flooring is the same throughout the castle—white engrained with beautiful wisps of gold—but the walls in here were different. A faded pink, the same color it had been when you were a young girl. Without a nudge, there’s no way Jaemin would even sneak a peek at the interior. A king-sized bed took up the middle of the room, a canopy hanging off the edges of it.

You trace your fingers along the solid gold vanity, sighing rather loudly. “Jaemin.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I require assistance.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m under strict orders not to enter your bedchamber.”

Strict orders. You’ve never wanted to roll your eyes harder.

“I will find a female to assist—”

“No.” It’s your turn to be firm. “You.”

“Then I guess whatever you need assistance with isn’t that important.” He clasps his hands together.

Truly, what you need isn’t dire. In fact, you don’t even need Jaemin at all. The game you want to play requires his attention, and you’ll do it in any way you possibly can.

“Do I need to disturb King Minhyung right now?” You test him, not waiting for a response before you continue. “It’d be a shame to interrupt whatever…important business he’s working on to tell him his guard is less than adequate.”

Before you know it, he’s standing in front of you, his dark eyes seeming to burn into your soul. He looks at you with an intensity you’ve had yet to experience. Something coils and turns in that deep gaze of his, but you can’t quite place it.

“How can I help, Princess?”

You turn around, dropping your hands to your sides. “Untie me.”

A small sound of shock escapes his lips. “I’m sorry?”

“Help me out of my dress.”

“This is hardly appropriate.”

“Well, I can’t do it myself, and there’s no one else around. I don’t want to wait. This thing is suffocating.” You stand impatiently, waiting for his will to crumble to dust.

“I really shouldn’t,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “This isn’t—”

“Jaemin.”

“Right. Your…your hair is in the way.” He clears his throat.

“Surely, you’ve done this before,” you ridicule him. “You’re meant to move it.”

Something crackles in the air, and you can’t tell if it’s tangible or a figment of your imagination. You both know he’s closer than he should be, but neither of you say a word about it. Not again. The door is still ajar. Anyone could walk by and see—they could make assumptions about what’s going on in here, especially as his fingers reach up to brush your hair over your shoulder.

His fingertips skim across the back of your neck, and it feels like a jolt of electricity. Goosebumps fly across your skin, the tiniest tremor weaving through your spine.

“What would you do if I wasn’t here?” he whispers, the delicate, deep tone of his voice making the effects of his touch worse.

“Wouldn’t you love to know.” You chuckle, refusing to give in and admit you didn’t really need help in the first place.

“Do you make it a habit to have men undo your corsets?” He tugs the first tie, loosening it while you hold onto the front of your dress.

“No.”

“Don’t tell me I’m special.” He lets out something resembling a laugh.

“You’re simply the only one available to help.”

The looser your dress gets, the more you wish to just let it go. His movements are quick, and he does his best not to touch you any more than he already has. You weren’t usually like this. For some reason, you want to give chase. You want to do something risky, regardless of who’s affected by it.

“That was the last one, Princess.” He takes a step away from you, the cold replacing his warmth.

“I—”

“I think that’s quite enough,” Jaemin says. “Whatever else you need, I can no longer assist you. I’m here to protect you, not to be your servant.”

“You say that now, Na Jaemin.” You turn to face him, closing your distance and poking a finger straight into the middle of his chest. “But before you know it, you’ll be begging to serve me.”

He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggles to keep eye contact.

“Serving and protecting me is a privilege,” you say. “You should act like you need to earn it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t serve you. I serve my King, and I doubt he’d like to find me in here with his future wife’s corset one swift move from being on the floor.” Jaemin crosses his arms over his chest and clenches his fist. “I hope you have a good night, Princess. I’ll be outside.”

Against your better judgment, you don’t correct him for his callus words. You allow him to walk away from you. As he makes it to the door, he glances once more over his shoulder before it shuts softly behind him.

#na jaemin #jaemin scenario #jaemin imagine #nct #nct jaemin #nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct fluff #lee minhyung #mark lee #jaemin smut

[scarletwinterxx]

to you, I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it - jaemin imagine

and yes back to back post😊 i was thinking about this the other night, literally thinking about Jaemin's eyelashes before going to sleep and tada here's a fluff fest. hope you like it!🤍

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Jaemin! Come hereeeee"

A few seconds later, a confused Jaemin appears by the door. You smile up at him, beckoning him to come closer to you. The man didn' say anything, following your command and taking a seat infront of your vanity mirror

"I wanna try something" you tell him, he raises a brow at you but you just smile at him. Taking something out from the drawer before closing it shut then you turn to him. Straddling his lap and making yourself comfortable there.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what are we doing exactly?" he asks, you grab his face gently with one hand making his lips do a pout.

You giggle at his expressions, leaning down to give him a quick peck. Jaemin quick to chase your lips but you hold him still

"I'm going to put mascara on you" you tell him, then he sees what you're holding with your other hand

"What is that? That looks like a torture device"

"It's a lash curler, not that you need it. Your lashes are already pretty but I wanna see what it looks like" you tell him, again you grab his face gently before tilting it upwards

"Don't poke my eyes out"

"I'm not gonna poke your eyes out, do you not trust your girlfriend?"

"I trust you with just about anything but that thing looks scary" he mumbles, eyes automatically closing.

"Don't close your eyes, do this" you show him how and where to look while you curl his lashes, "See that didn't hurt. Now for the mascara"

"Okay now what is that? That looks like something you will definitely poke my eyes with"

"Stop moving and I won't, come here" you tell him, face serious. This got Jaemin to sit still for a couple of seconds while you do your thing.

"And done! You look pretty" he can feel you blow on his eyes, "You're prettier" he mumbles before opening his eyes to find indeed the most beautiful sight in front of him

"Gosh, I want your lashes" you tell him, putting down the mascara on the vanity behind him before throwing your arms around his neck to embrace him

"Our kids will have the prettiest lashes" you tease him, the thought of a mini you making Jaemin smile. "Our kid will be the most beautiful baby if they will look like you" he tells you

"But I want them to look like you, that way I'll have more Jaemin's" you tell him excitedly, it's crazy and exciting but also the truth.

If the universe grants you your ultimate wish then one day you'll wake up with the love of your life beside you, in your home, with the family the two of you made. Of course there's only one person you see that future with.

"You look in love" he says with the most smitten look on his face to. "In love with you, I want to brainwash you into loving me forever" you tell him, rubbing your nose against his

He catch the reference behind your words, "No need to do that, my love. You're the only one for me, I'm so in love with you I might stop breathing"

You laugh at the last part, then you continue on telling your plans for the night while Jaemin stands up from his seat with you still on his. He carries you while you clung to him like a panda, the two of you walk down the hallway.

"Okay, swiftie. What do you say we have a movie night tonight? I bought these cute face masks yesterday, we can try them out. Oh also I got your favorite snacks..."

#fic #story #fanfic #nct au #nct recommended #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct boyfriend #nct oneshot #nct imagine #imagines #nct boytfriend #jaemin #na jaemin #nct jaemin #jaemin fic #jaemin fluff #jaemin boyfriend #jaemin oneshot #jaemin scenario #jaemin au