simpforj

[simpforj]

can you do which ateez habit you would have picked up from being around them for too long?

I struggled with this more than I should have I’m sorry 😭😭😭😭 Happy reading!!!

Habits you pickup from Ateez

Synopsis: little habits you pick up from ateez

Pairing: ateez members x gn!reader, idol au

Genre: fluff

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none:)

masterlist

• Hongjoong

Falling asleep in random places

You never thought you'd pick up such a peculiar habit from Hongjoong but here you were, dozing off on the couch in his studio. It had become somewhat of a routine lately. Hongjoong often found himself working late into the night, composing music and writing lyrics, and you couldn't bear to leave him alone. So, you stayed up with him, keeping him company and offering moral support.

Tonight was no different. The studio was dimly lit, save for the soft glow of the computer screen where Hongjoong was tirelessly tinkering away. You sat beside him, occasionally offering words of encouragement or fetching him a snack to keep his energy up. But as the hours passed, fatigue started to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

"You okay Y/n?" a familiar voice chimed in, bringing you back from the brink of slumber.

You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Huh? Who? What?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

Seonghwa chuckled softly and gestured towards you. "You fell asleep in a chair, I think you’re spending too much time with Hongjoong. You should get some real rest before you start falling asleep in random places, like him, too."

Glancing over at Hongjoong, you realized he was completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to the conversation happening around him. You laughed sheepishly, realizing Seonghwa was right. Lately, you had indeed found yourself dozing off in various places – the couch, the kitchen table, even leaning against the wall.

"It's just... I can't leave him alone when he's working so hard," you explained softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

Seonghwa's expression softened as he understood. "I know, and I'm sure Hongjoong appreciates it too. But you need to take care of yourself as well, okay? "

You nodded, grateful for Seonghwa's concern. As you settled back into the couch, you made a mental note to try and get more sleep, even if it meant leaving Hongjoong to his work occasionally. But for now, you allowed yourself to succumb to the comforting embrace of sleep, knowing that Hongjoong was just a few feet away.

• Seonghwa

Acting motherly towards the members

Seonghwa watched with a bemused smile as you flitted around the dorm, straightening pillows, picking up stray socks, and tidying up the kitchen. It was a sight he'd grown accustomed to – you, inadvertently taking on the role of the dorm mom, just like he did. It wasn't something you consciously did, but rather a habit you'd picked up from spending so much time around him and the other guys.

You had a thing for neatness and sometimes acted much like a mom in your friend group, but lately, you found yourself slipping into Seonghwa's shoes more often than not. It was something he found endearing and amusing, seeing you scold the other members for leaving their belongings strewn about or for forgetting to do their chores.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Seonghwa asked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

You turned to him, a blushi tinting your cheeks, wondering just how long he had been watching you. "Oh, just tidying up a bit. It was a mess in here."

Seonghwa chuckled softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don’t need to do all that, you know"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I can't help it. You guys are like family to me, and I just want to take care of you."

The other members wandered into the kitchen, groaning as they saw you fussing over the cleanliness of the space.

"Come on, Y/N, we already have one Seonghwa," Yunho teased, flashing you a playful grin. "We don't need you turning into another one."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at your lips. "I'm just trying to help keep things organized around here. Someone has to do it."

Seonghwa wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We appreciate it, really. Just don't forget to take care of yourself too, okay?"

You nodded, leaning into his side. "Of course. But someone has to keep you guys in line."

The others laughed, knowing deep down that they were lucky to have both you and Seonghwa looking out for them – even if it meant enduring occasional scoldings for their messy habits.

• Yunho

Picking at or biting your lips

Yunho had always been the type to immerse himself completely in whatever task he was working on, often biting or touching his lips in concentration. You, on the other hand, had never noticed this about yourself until Yunho pointed it out one day.

You were sitting together at the studio, both lost in your respective work. You were so engrossed in what you were doing that you didn't even realize your hand had wandered up to your lips, fingers lightly touching and occasionally biting at them in a habit you had unknowingly picked up from Yunho.

"Y/N," Yunho's voice broke through your concentration, causing you to look up, startled. "Don’t do that," he said, nodding towards your lips.

Confused, you furrowed your brows. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

Yunho sighed, his expression turning slightly serious. "You keep biting your lips. You might hurt them if you're not careful."

You blinked, suddenly becoming aware of what you were doing. "Oh," you muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. "I didn't even realize I was doing that."

Yunho's lips twitched with amusement, but he quickly composed himself. "It's a bad habit. You should try to stop."

You couldn't help but feel a bit defensive. "Well, you do it too," you scoffed and pointed out.

Yunho's cheeks flushed slightly, and he looked away. "I... I do?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. Maybe we've just been spending too much time together," you teased.

Yunho's embarrassment was palpable now, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Maybe," he muttered, unable to meet your gaze.

But despite the awkwardness, there was a warmth in your chest knowing that even your unconscious habits were intertwined with his. It was just another reminder of how close the two of you had become, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

• Yeosang

Clapping while laughing

You and Yeosang had spent such a long time together and over the course of it, you became attuned to each other's habits, quirks, and gestures without even realising it. One particular habit of Yeosang's that seemed to have rubbed off on you was the way he would clap his hands when he found something particularly amusing.

The way your hands would subconsciously come together and follow the rhythm of your laughter felt natural and neither of you actually noticed how a habit, once Yeosang’s, was now shared by you.

However, that was until one lazy afternoon when Yeosang excitedly showed you his phone, "Hey, check this out," he said with a grin, pushing it towards your face.

Curious, you glanced at the screen, finding yourself staring at a Twitter thread created by an ATINY. The thread was a compilation of gifs and videos, side by side, showing you and Yeosang laughing together. What caught your attention, however, was the caption accompanying the thread: "Am I the only one who noticed that Y/N and Yeosang have the same adorable habit of clapping while laughing? #YeoY/N."

"Oh my god they’re adorable."

"They look like cute little seals when they're laughing together, it's like they're synchronised."

You couldn't help but smile and giggle as you scrolled through the thread, amused by how certain things never went unnoticed by their fans, even if you yourselves were oblivious.

Yeosang glanced over at you, his expression softening. "I guess we really do spend too much time together, huh?"

You chuckled, leaning closer to him. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

• San

Covering your mouth while laughing

It was just one of those habits you picked up without even realising it – covering your face while laughing. It was something you'd seen San do countless times, his hand rising instinctively to his mouth as his laughter bubbled up. Maybe it was the contagiousness of his joy, or perhaps it was the familiarity that made you do it, but whatever the reason, you found yourself unconsciously mimicking his actions more and more as time went on.

You didn't think much of it, not until one fateful day when you and San were doing a live stream together. The comments were flooding in, a flurry of emojis and supportive messages from fans all over the world. Amidst the sea of text, one comment stood out:

"OMG, look how they laugh the same! 😍 SanYn are the cutest! 💕"

Curious, you glanced at the screen, only to see San's eyes widen in realisation. He turned to you, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we've been caught," he teased, nudging you lightly.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but there was also a warmth spreading through you, a sense of fondness at the thought of sharing such a small, intimate detail with San. "Guess we spend too much time together," you joked back, unable to suppress a smile.

But as the live stream continued, you couldn't help but notice how often you and San found yourselves laughing, your hands rising simultaneously to cover your mouths. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the bond you shared, the way you seemed to sync up without even trying.

After the stream ended, you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to San’s cheek, you couldn't help but giggle at how much these little quirks affected you, maybe making life more comfortable along the way.

• Mingi

Making the 🥺 face

To the people outside, Mingi seemed to be very intimidating, with his deep voice and built 6ft stature but inside the comfort of his he couldn't be more different. He knew he was cute and he knew how to use it against people. One quick look sent your way with his puppy eyes and pouty lips and you would melt, at some point this habit of his rubbed off on you.

The members weren’t safe from it either, like when Seonghwa had just finished making a delicious batch of ramen for himself. The aroma wafted through the room, teasing your senses and making your stomach growl loudly. You and Mingi couldn't help but stare at the steaming bowl with longing eyes.

"Seonghwa hyung, that smells amazing," Mingi exclaimed, his eyes widening with hunger.

You nodded enthusiastically, finding yourself unintentionally mirroring Mingi's expression, your lips slightly pouting like the 🥺 emoji.

Seonghwa chuckled at your antics, shaking his head. "Sorry guys, this is just for me. I only made enough for one."

"But hyung, we're starving!" Mingi whined, his voice tinged with desperation.

You glanced at Seonghwa, your eyes pleading as you continued to unknowingly imitate Mingi's puppy-dog expression.

Seonghwa sighed, feeling the pressure of your combined adorable stares. "Oh no, I have to deal with two Mingis now, don't I?"

You and Mingi exchanged a glance before bursting into giggles, realising your unintentional synchronisation. Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh along with you.

"Fine, fine," Seonghwa relented, dividing the ramen between the three of you. "But next time, make your own!"

• Wooyoung

Smacking people while laughing

You couldn't help but laugh at the way Wooyoung told a recount of the recent Wanteez episode the boys shot, adding his own commentary in between. He always had a way of making you laugh wholeheartedly, even when you fought he would be the one to apologise first and crack a joke to make you smile. However, what you didn't realise was that you had picked up one of his habits along the way.

In the midst of your laughter, your hand instinctively swung out and smacked San's thigh, eliciting a surprised yelp from him. It wasn't until he looked at you with a mix of amusement and slight irritation that you realised what you had done.

"Oops, sorry, San!" you apologised, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you tried to suppress your laughter.

San rubbed his thigh, shooting you a mock glare. "I already have to take abuse from Wooyoung, and now you're doing it too?"

You couldn't help but giggle at his playful complaint, but Wooyoung nudged you with a grin. "Looks like my habits are rubbing off on you, huh?"

You chuckled, realising how similar you two acted these days. "I guess so. Sorry, San, I’ll try not to do that but I can’t make any promises." You winked at him.

San shook his head and scoffed at your mocking, a smile breaking through his faux irritation. "Ahh so much I have to go through,"

You and Wooyoung giggled at his words, knowing how much he loved you both the same, with the occasional physical abuse of course.

• Jongho

Scrunching your nose while smiling/laughing

As you sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you stumbled upon a video compilation titled "JongYn Couple Moments" ,obviously your curiosity got the better of you and you clicked on it, not fully knowing what to expect. What unfolded on the screen was definitely not what you were expecting, it sent a sudden blush creeping up your cheeks.

The video was a compilation of moments featuring you and Jongho, through the fans’ eyes, complete with dramatic commentary about how cute you two were together. Especially about the way your noses scrunched and crinkles formed around your eyes as you both laughed, with your faces making the same endearing expression.

You couldn't help but be amused as you watched, realising that you had subconsciously copied Jongho's habit of scrunching his nose when he smiled.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Glancing over, you found Jongho peering over your shoulder, his eyes fixated on the screen. As he watched the video, a wide grin spread across his face, small giggles leaving his lips.

"Wow, we really do look alike sometimes," Jongho remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You nodded, still giggling at the sight. "I never realized I picked up on your habit."

"It's adorable," Jongho said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "I guess I've rubbed off on you, huh?"

You chuckled, leaning into his touch. "Looks like it. But hey, I don't mind sharing a few habits with you."

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist:

[simpforj]

Mingi the MAN you are

[simpforj]

noo🥺deep in y/n’s soul she still loves him.

by the way your writings are so beautiful written. I’m always happy whenever you post something new. Thank you for your hard work🫶🏻

yuyusuyu's 100 followers milestone event! — 02. mingi, i can't be your love

req by @4ssun : can i ask for mingi with #5 for a fem reader? preferably angst with little comfort at the end? no set scenario! ^^ congratulations on 100 followers!! <3

pairing. best friend! song mingi x fem! reader ft. choi san

genres/aus. angst with little comfort, non idol au, right person wrong time au

warnings. none but it is... quite a bit angsty (kind of? idk but if i were to describe it it's like an aching feeling)

rating. sfw

wc. 0.9 k

a/n. i am so so sorry for the lateness! uni is such a terrible thing >:( and i also rewrote this like... way too many times for me to count since i got this request hhhhh but this version is the one and i hope you like it! ps. i think my attempt at that little comfort part is... lowkey not little comfort help

NO matter what, without fail, you are always reminded how you will always be mingi’s best friend—nothing more and nothing less. but to you? mingi will always be someone that you can never have, someone that will never be yours no matter how hard you try to get him to love you just as you love him.

you hate how everyone fed your delusions, fed you lies for years and years that you and mingi would just… end up together; that it was inevitable. you two, to many, are soulmates. two people destined to be together no matter what. but at the end of the day, with each lovesick gaze he directs at his partners, you’re reminded that you can’t be his love.

or rather… you will never be his love. and every spring, without fail, you’re reminded of this because every spring, his love blossoms beautifully for a lucky person.

it’s a tough pill to swallow. the fact leaves you feeling remorseful on days where you’re overflowing with the love you have for your best friend. why can’t he see you as something more? why can’t he just look at you?

why can’t he just love you?

well, the answer is as clear as day to you. mingi already loves someone. he loves someone that isn’t you.

he always loves someone that isn’t you.

loving song mingi is horrible.

loving song mingi is like loving the sun, and loving the sun entails being in its warmth and never feeling cold. (only except you do. you feel cold once his warmth leaves you and is directed at someone else.)

and loving song mingi is like loving summer, and loving summer means there will be endless nights of laughter and smiles, endless promises declared under the beating sunlight and endless hours spent driving down the streets with the windows rolled down while singing terribly at the top of your lungs.

loving song mingi truly is horrible because loving song mingi means you have to see him love someone else in front of your aching heart.

and you can only hope that your longing slowly ebbs away like the tides of a beach on a summer night. maybe then… maybe then you can love someone who loves you back.

there was never a time where you weren’t with him and he wasn’t with you. mingi truly can’t recall a time where you weren’t together. even when summer sun begins to go down and is replaced by cold breezes, as summer transitions to autumn, you are always together.

it’s hard for him to even imagine such a thing—not being with you.

that’s a hard thing to imagine.

living it is… even harder, he realizes.

yeah, living without you is harder.

as he walks down the street, red and yellow leaves falling and crunching underneath the soles of his shoes, he wonders if that’s how your friendship was.

if that’s how it fell and ended.

it’s a thought he doesn't continue to entertain as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and sings along to the song that plays in his earbuds, his voice barely audible.

mingi continues to walk down the street, eventually making it to your his favorite coffee place. before entering, he stops and stares at the sight in front of him, his gaze following after you as you keep walking away.

you didn’t even look back at him.

and yet he continues to look at you.

winter is by far the coldest season he’s experienced thus far. he has himself to blame for this. if he had been a little quicker, a little faster in realizing things, maybe you’d be keeping him warm like always.

after all, you were like the sun to him. or rather, you are the sun to him—so bright and warm. you make him feel warm, but he hasn’t felt that way in a while. it’s been so long since you both last talked to each other.

in fact, it’s been so long that it feels surreal to see you standing in front of him. you still look so pretty, and he notes that there are no longer dark bags underneath your eyes. you’re radiant; though, he supposes it’s because of the man next to you with a cat-like appearance. you’ve looked so much happier ever since he started seeing the two of you next to one another, seemingly glued to each other’s hips.

just like how you two used to be.

mingi knows that you see him, he can tell by the way your eyes widened slightly before softening. you smile at him and he smiles back just as you walk away, your laughter echoing loudly in your eyes at something the man says to you.

and at that moment, if someone were to ask him how it feels to love you, mingi would say that loving you is beautifully warm.

yeah, loving you feels like the warmth that hugs you when you walk in the snow. loving you feels like the warming pads that he carries around in his pockets, the ones he grips with all his might to not feel cold. loving you is like craving heat and warmth in the cold.

it wasn’t always like that.

at one point, loving you felt like blooming flowers.

but not it isn’t because mingi realized he loves you a little too late.

mingi loves you and you love someone else, and mingi will always love you while you used to love him once upon a time.

PERMA TAGLIST — @asjkdk @kodzukein @hrt4jeno @jeonride @lissiesykes @satsuri3su @atinytownclown @ad0rechuu @szakias @sanhwaism

[simpforj]

23:46 — song mingi

synopsis. your best friend is a little hard to wake up. pairing. roommate!song mingi x fem!reader. genre. friends to lovers. fluff. timestamp. warnings. lots of kisses. wc. 1k. rating. pg-13.

[ listening to . . . ] you're mine, you! by chet baker

a quiet chuckle leaves your lips as you walk into the living room, finding your roommate fast asleep on the couch. mingi snored softly, sprawled out with his black playstation controler dangling from his hand for dear life.

you just wanted to grab a snack from the kitchen, but instead you made a detour to crouch beside the couch and take the controler from his hand as gently as you could. not that taking it from him forcefully would’ve made any difference; he could sleep through a category five hurricane. once you set the controller on the small coffee table, you reached for the glasses that squished against his nose.

he didn’t stir as you nudged his shoulder gently. at first you felt bad about having to wake him, but the distinct memories of him whining about his shoulder hurting after sleeping on the couch flashed through your mind.

“mingi…” you whispered softly, nudging him again, “mingi, wake up.”

after the third nudge he muttered something, though you could quite tell what. with your hand resting on his should as he pushed his face further into the pillow beneath his head, you sighed and moved to get up. but before you could register it, a hand wrapped around your write and pulled you down on the couch, legs tangling with yours and his other hand keeping you close by the small of your back.

you held your breath as he began moving you, practically trapping you beneath his large body as he drags himself halfway on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. his short, washed-out pink hair tickled your cheek as he lifted his head to look at you. you would’ve laughed at the tired expression of his face, all pouting lips and squinting eyes.

“i tried to wake you.” your voice came out a lot higher than you intended, not realising you almost felt flustered at your current position.

his eyes fluttered shut again and he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, making you tense for a moment before relaxing. his voice gravelly in his newly awake state, he spoke against the soft skin of your neck, “why”

“you always complain about your neck hurting when you sleep on the couch, i was trying to get you to move and sleep in your bed but you wouldn’t wake up.”

your answer has him humming understandingly, nuzzling his face further into your neck. your best friend was usually quite affectionate, however, this felt different from the more common cuddles during movie nights or occasional hand holding. you chalked it up to him not being fully awake, mind still hazy from his nap. at least until you felt the first of his kisses along your neck. they were so soft they were easy to miss, yet still the unmistakable brush of his lips that you sometimes found yourself wanting to feel against yours.

still, you didn’t protest, tentatively moving one of your hands up to brush through the hair at the nape of his neck. this only encouraged him, another hum vibrating against your skin. a soft sigh slipped passed your lips as his large hand moved to the small of your back to your waist, thumb carressing you through your flimsy white tanktop. with his body pressed against yours and his lips kissing anywhere he could reach comfortably, you relaxed, letting yourself lean your head back against the plush sofa.

“mingi,” you finally pulled yourself together to ask, “what are you doing?”

“just… just holding you,” he muttered against you. his kisses were tender and didn’t hold any sense of urgency, lazy presses against your pulse. “you feel nice, you smell nice, and you’re so warm. let me just hold you for a bit, please?”

it almost sounded like he was pleading when he asked you to let him do so and you found it hard to say no. in general, you found it hard to say no to anything he asked. so, you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper and making him lift his head to look down at you. moments turned into seconds which turned into minutes as your surroundings blurred and all you could think of was the tender look in his eyes as he leaned forward. he paused, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop, but at the sight of the slightest of nods he couldn’t hold himself back from brushing his lips against yours. his hand on your waist tightened for a second as he pulled away, holding himself up with his other hand, forearm supporting him as his face hovered above yours.

he took in the sight of you beneath him, gaze flickering all over your face as he tried to memorise the sparkling look of your round eyes and your tiny puffs of air. there’s a smile tugging at his plush lips, barely noticeable but enough to make your cheeks warm even more. and when he spoke, his voice was no longer rough with sleep, but a gentle whisper only for you to hear.

“please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

you almost laughed at the endearing question but opted to smile instead, your hands cupping his cheeks. “no, this isn’t dream.”

“good,” he spoke through a sigh, sounding oh so content, “you’re just so pretty.”

a comfortable silence washed over you as he lowered himself to press another kiss against your lips. this time he let himself stay longer, he found the taste of your lips addicting, getting lost in the way they feel against his tongue as he swiped it along your bottom lip. when you parted for air, he rested his forehead against yous, breath mingling. the rest of the night was spent through lazy kisses and loving words that left you confused at the relationship you shared with him. but before you could ask about it, you had both fallen asleep, wrapped in each others arms on the couch you had tried so hard to get him off of.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] hiii here's a cute little mingi fic because i love him so much :3

　　[ networks ... ] @cromernet @wonderlandnet

　　[ perm taglist — open ... ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

[simpforj]

birthday kisses!

pairing. idol! song mingi x non idol! fem! reader

synopsis. you wake up feeling very parched and very in love with your boyfriend, song mingi. you admire his beauty and suddenly have the need to give him a kiss... too bad you're too shy.

warnings. pet names (tiny i literally saw someone say that mingi would call his s/o tiny and i literally died and i'm running with it now, baby, pretty/pretty girl), kisses (as an aroace person: ew), mingi being mingi (he is a menace himself he literally bites you)

genres. romance, fluff, established relationship

wc. 0.8k

a/n. reader has glasses because we are all blind in this today. also ! happy birthday to our lovely mingi :( (literally please ignore my last mingi oneshot. it was literally supposed to be up TODAY not two days early wtaf tumblr.....)

reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

YOU wake up suddenly, feeling very thirsty as you try to crane your neck back to see the stupid alarm clock you have sitting on top of your night stand. you can’t make out the numbers, and attempt to blindly reach out for your glasses when mingi grunts, trying to shove his nose further into the crook of your neck. it’s then that you remember that you fell asleep hugging your boyfriend while he rested his head on your chest, saying that listening to your heartbeat helps lull him to sleep while he had his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. you feel slightly embarrassed at the position you’re both in as you card your hand through his short-ish hair, your other hand resuming its previous mission of trying to grab your glasses from its place by the alarm clock.

after a few seconds of blindly reaching out for your glasses, you huff, deciding to just grab them later as you try to shimmy out of your boyfriend’s hold. mingi groans, tightening his grip. “what are you doing, tiny?”

“i’m thirsty,” you whisper. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

mingi sighs, “okay. don’t take too long, though,” he mumbles, attempting to open his eyes to look at you. “i just want to sleep the day away with you.”

you snort, now sitting up with your feet touching the cold floor. “baby, are you sure you don’t want to go out and do something? you only have today off, and you’ll be busy later at night for the live.”

the male shakes his head, stuffing his head into his pillow afterwards. “just wanna sleep with my pretty girl today…”

“even if it’s your birthday?”

mingi hums in response, and you laugh, quickly kissing the crown of his head and whispering happy birthday to him before pushing yourself up. when you’re in the kitchen, holding your glass of water, you purse your lips in thought, taking a sip from it.

you are definitely going to drag mingi out to do at least something today after he’s fully awake… which will probably be some time after one in the afternoon.

when you go back to the room, you happily crawl into the covers and mingi immediately pulls you into him, shoving his nose into your neck again. you laugh, wrapping an arm around his head and scratching his scalp softly. mingi hums, and he reminds you of a cat when he nuzzles his nose into—

“ow?” you yelp, bewildered as you push mingi away from you to see him smiling at you cheekily. “what was that for?” you pout, rubbing the spot mingi bit.

“nothing,” he replies. “let’s go back to sleep, yeah?”

you drop the subject and resume scratching his scalp. you don’t know how long it’s been when you decide to look down at the sleeping male. you can’t see mingi with how he has his face in your neck, so you lean back, almost cooing out loud at how adorable he looks with messy, oreo hair. you then trace over his eyebrows with a finger before lovingly caressing his cheek, eyes smiling along with your lips as you press quick kisses to the dots on his face. one kiss right beneath his eyebrow, one kiss on the top of his cheek, one kiss on his jaw, and one last kiss on his temple. your eyes then fall to his lips and you have the sudden urge to kiss them, but you flush in embarrassment at the thought of doing so.

unlike your boyfriend, you find it a little harder to initiate skinship.

well… only when you let yourself think about it just like now.

you settle with kissing the dot by his temple again, pulling back and gasping in surprise when mingi’s eyes fly open.

“what the…? mingi, since when—”

he cuts you off by leaning in, staring straight into your eyes. you attempt to lean back, eyes wide.

“well, if you won’t do it,” he says, licking his lips. “i will.”

mingi leans forward, his mission being to kiss you. you whine and cover your mouth, making him laugh as he gently pries your hands away.

“stop! i-i have morning breath!”

“okay, and? i don't care. c’mon pretty,” he says, chuckling. “let me have my birthday kiss.”

“stop,” you drawl. “when you say it like that, you know i’m going to cave in!”

mingi bites your cheek all of a sudden, pulling the flesh back as you squeal, laughing afterwards. “that’s why i said it. now give me my kiss before i bite you again.”

“you’re turning into wooyoung,” you huff, frowning as you settle down and admit defeat. “biting everyone out of nowhere.”

“i only ever bite you out of love,” he sings, pecking your nose quickly before kissing you.

the kiss is soft and fast. mingi opens his eyes to see your own flutter open, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already pressing his lips to yours again, the kiss being a little rougher than the previous one. it leaves you in a daze when he pulls back.

“w-why did you—”

mingi cuts you off by humming, pointing at his face afterwards. “give me more kisses, and you can't say no because it's my birthday.”

“you're abusing your birthday power,” you scoff, but nonetheless smile and pepper kisses everywhere on his face, making him grin. “happy birthday, mingi.”

[simpforj]

the princess treatment chronicles!

pairing. non idol! best friend! song mingi x non idol! fem! reader

synopsis. the five times you accidentally completed the steps that would make mingi swoon also known as the five times you accidentally gave him princess treatment and he kept falling harder for you each time

warnings. mentions of food, getting sick, fire (someone get mingi away from the grill), cursing (wooyoung naur)

genres. romance, fluff, comedy, best friends to something more

ft. non idol! ateez

wc. 3k

pt 2. here !

a/n. happy birthday to our lovely mingi :( (this was supposed to be posted in two days wtaf 😭 guys pls just ignore and pretend it was posted on his bday 😭 my queue os my biggest enemy now)

reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

MINGI has a list. it's a special list to him, one that speaks volumes about him.

speaks volumes about a step-by-step process on how to make him, song mingi, fall in love with someone.

now, this list is hidden in his notes app, and the physical copy of this is hidden in one of his math notebooks from high school. he is the only person to know about this list, other than his best friend, of course (only because yunho accidentally saw him writing it out instead of doing math homework with him).

yunho calls it 'a step-by-step guide to the princess treatment' but mingi likes to correct his friend, telling him that it's actually called 'the way to song mingi's heart.'

yunho likes to call it otherwise.

but what does that have to do with you? well, for starters, mingi met you through yunho. it was completely accidental. according to yunho, he was never going to introduce you because you're like a little sister to him and you might end up stealing mingi from him by being your lovable self. instead of that happening, you two had instantly clicked and the three of you became a little trio, one that somehow always managed to spend time with each other everyday.

crazy.

how mingi and yunho managed to keep the list a secret from you, they have no idea (and yunho has no idea why mingi doesn’t want you knowing. the three of you tell each other everything to the point that it can be seen as oversharing at times), how they’ve managed to keep this list hidden from you for so long—three years, to be exact.

until now, that is.

STEP ONE TO MAKE SONG MINGI FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: RUN INTO A PUBLIC PLACE IN A DRAMATIC MANNER WITH SOMETHING OF IMPORTANCE TO MINGI ! (IT SHOWS THAT YOU CARE VERY MUCH ABOUT HIM TO THE POINT OF NOT CARING ABOUT HOW OTHER PEOPLE SEE YOU)

mingi frowns as he looks down at his phone, eyebrows furrowed when he looks up at yunho. “she’s ten minutes late.”

yunho nods, also frowning. “maybe something came up and that’s why she’s running late?”

slumping down in his seat, mingi sighs, grumbling, “yeah, but she would’ve texted us by now if something happened. you know how yn is…”

the bells of the café entrance chimes, signaling the appearance of a customer. mingi, at this point, has given up checking if every new customer that walks into the café is you. he folds his arms on the table, resting his head as he pouts.

“oh yn!”

and then he immediately perks up in his seat, excitedly turning around to face you. yunho gets up, giving you a hug before ushering you into the seat next to mingi’s.

“i’m so sorry,” you wheeze, “i was going to text the group chat but then my phone died.”

yunho tilts his head. “your phone died? you don’t usually use your phone while you have a shift at the restaurant.”

“i don’t,” you say, running a hand through your tousled hair. “but i forgot to charge my phone before i left my place, and then when i went to that doughnut place, the lines were ridiculously long but i was already in line so i decided to suck it up and—"

“woah,” laughs mingi. “slow down.”

“sorry,” you mumble, sighing and taking in a breath before continuing. “i went to the doughnut place that just opened up. i read on a forum that wednesday afternoons are usually the slowest, so i decided i’d stop by before coming over to the cafe to study with you guys. when i got there, there was already a line that was about to start wrapping around the store, so i had to beat this lady next to me that wanted to get in line.”

“a lady,” yunho repeats, chuckling. 

you hum. “yeah. i beat her to it, by the way. anyway, i was checking the time and saw it was already nearing the time we decided on, so i was in the middle of sending a text when my phone died.” you take out your phone from your tote bag along with a box.

it’s then that cogs in mingi’s brain starts working when he eyes the cursive lettering on the box.

“oh, isn’t that the doughnut place mingi’s been wanting to try out?” yunho asks, hands stretching out to grab the box.

you slap his hands, earning a laugh from the taller male as he brings them back to his side. “yes,” you reply, side-eyeing yunho. “meaning this isn’t for you.”

grabbing the box, you sheepishly smile at mingi, handing it over to him. “i know you’ve been trying to find the time to go over and try their doughnuts, but since my workplace is closer… i mean, why not?”

“excuse us for a second,” mingi mumbles, leaving you confused as he grabs yunho’s arm and drags him over to a corner in the cafe. once you’re out of earshot, mingi clears his throat. “what the hell was that?”

“what was what?” whispers yunho, blinking as he watches mingi glance over at you. you’re in the middle of trying to tame down your wild hair.

“she just completed step one.”

yunho gasps, turning mingi around by his shoulders. “no way,” he says. “did you tell her about the list?”

“what? no!” he cries out. “how did she even do it? yunho, i swear if you told her—”

“that’s not my secret to tell!” yunho whisper-shouts. “listen, this was probably a one time thing. there’s no way she even knows about it. plus, maybe she was just feeling a little generous today towards you!”

mingi slowly nods. “yeah,” he mumbles. “yeah, you’re right. let’s head back before yn starts asking questions…”

yunho was not right.

STEP TWO: IN MINGI’S TIME OF NEED, DO WHATEVER YOU CAN IN ORDER TO MAKE HIM FEEL HAPPY (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM NO MATTER WHAT TIME IT IS OR WHAT YOU’RE DOING)

mingi grumbles as he kicks his shoes off and drops his things on the floor by the door, closing it and shuffling over to his room as he angrily sends a text to the group chat.

it’s already one in the morning. yunho is most likely gaming and you’re most likely already sleeping. regardless, mingi still sends a text and doesn’t bother waiting for an answer as he flops down into his bed face-first.

he barely manages to make out the sound of his phone ringing. he blindly searches for his phone until his hand finally finds it. grunting, he brings it to his face, his eyes squinting at the screen from the brightness in comparison to his dark room.

yn: you still have your spare key in the same place, right?

mingi: i thought you had my spare after last time?

he sees that you’re in the middle of typing, so he waits until you finally send another message.

yn: oh

yn: yeah, you’re right. just found it on my keychain 

mingi: i’m always right

yn: mmmmmm i wouldn’t say that but sure…

mingi: bruh

again, the typing bubble pops up on his screen before it disappears. mingi’s a bit confused, he won’t lie. he thought you would already be sleeping, but you weren’t. he snorts. “she asked me about my spare key instead of what’s wrong…?”

he shakes his head, stuffing it into his pillow. “whatever,” he mumbles.

mingi swears he’d only closed his eyes for a brief moment when the sound of his door unlocking fills the air. he stiffens in his bed before scrambling off, fumbling to find something to protect himself. he unplugs the lamp by his nightstand and grips it tightly, quietly tiptoeing towards his door.

“mingi?”

“yn, what the hell?” mingi groans, stepping out of his room and walking into the living room area of his apartment.

you narrow your eyes in confusion, pointing at the lamp he’s still holding. “why do you have a lamp in your hand?”

“the real question here is why are you here?” he huffs, leaning down to put the lamp on the floor. mingi then crosses his arms over his chest, “and why aren’t you sleeping?”

“i was about to sleep,” you say, walking past mingi and into his room. he follows you, his mouth open in surprise. “but then you texted that you had a shit day, so here i am.” you drop the bag you’re holding onto his bed, turning around. “now why the hell did you have a lamp in your hand?”

mingi clears his throat. “i, uh, thought someone was breaking in…”

you snort, sitting on his bed and patting the space next to the bag. “that’s funny, mings. no one is going to break in if you’re a broke college student.”

huffing, he grumbles as he sits down on his bed, bringing his knees up to his chest. “shut up.”

“mhm,” you hum. “now tell me about why you had a shit day while we eat some of your favorites, yeah?” you stick your hand into the bag and take out one of his favorite snacks, opening the bag and handing it over to him while you shift around to face him.

he thinks his heart started beating a little too fast for his liking.

STEP THREE: WHEN MINGI IS STRUGGLING TO DO SOMETHING, JUST DO IT FOR HIM WITHOUT EVEN ASKING IF HE NEEDS ASSITANCE (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU NOTICE WHEN HE IS STRUGGLING)

you look between yunho and mingi. yunho’s trying so hard not to laugh, but his smile gives him away. he obviously finds mingi struggling to light the grill amusing. 

“c’mon,” you slap yunho’s arm, earning a whine from him. “don’t be a bully.”

“yeah, yunho,” mingi says, looking up for a brief second to glare at him before looking back at the box of matches in his hand. “don’t be a bully.”

you gently take the box away from mingi’s hands, taking out a match and striking it against the box, a flame appearing. you grab the lighter fluid and pour some on the charcoal before  chucking the match into the grill, a fire immediately coming to life.

mingi gasps and hides behind you, startled. yunho laughs at the sight. “no way you’re hiding behind yn right now,” he says, wiping tears away from his eyes. “she’s literally so short compared to you.”

“shut up, jeong yunho.” you point at him. “or else i’ll change my netflix password.”

yunho gasps. “you wouldn’t dare!”

as you and yunho quarrel, mingi sighs, hiding his face in his hands when he feels the back of his neck grow unbearably hot.

you are doing a number on him.

and he’s a little scared.

because you’re his best friend.

and he can’t believe that his best friend, of all people, would be completing his five-step-guide in making him fall for someone.

he has to talk to yunho soon about this.

STEP FOUR: WHEN MINGI IS HURT, HELP AND CODDLE HIM (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU CARE A LOT ABOUT HIM)

he never got the chance to talk to yunho about this.

after your impromptu bbq day at yunho’s place, mingi ended up getting sick. he didn’t tell anyone, not wanting to bother anyone and burden them with taking care of him. so here he is, laying in his bed, shivering and clutching onto his blankets for dear life.

he hears his front door clicking open, and he groans. “go away!” he croaks, sneezing afterwards. “i have nothing to offer you, you thief!”

you laugh. “seriously? you think i’m some robber again?”

at the sound of your voice, mingi’s heart skips a beat. he clears his throat. “no… what are you doing here? i seriously need to take my spare key away from you…”

“yeah, yeah,” you say, walking into his room and raising an eyebrow when you see the state he’s in. “why didn’t you tell yunho or i about this, mings? we would’ve come running to you.”

he sneezes. “i didn’t want to annoy anyone,” he says, lowering his blankets from his face just to see you.

you click your tongue and walk to the side of the bed, pressing your hand to the back of his forehead. “don’t be silly, mingi. you know we don’t find you annoying… at least i don’t find you annoying,” you mumble, straightening your back and walking out of the room. “i’m going to make you some soup, you weakling! don’t get up!”

mingi lets out a weak laugh, sneezing afterwards. “yes, ma’am…”

“what was that?”

“yes, ma’am!” he yells, his voice cracking. mingi hears you giggle to yourself.

he huffs, pulling his blankets over his head.

when you’re done making the soup, you carry a bowl and some cough medicine into his room and find that he’s asleep. you set the bowl on his nightstand, shaking him awake as gently as possible. “mingi,” you whisper. “mingi, i have the soup. i need you to wake up so that i can feed you.”

“feed me?” he asks, whispering.

you hum, opting to card your hand through his hair that’s been growing out recently. “yeah, i need to feed you.”

“feed… feed me?” mingi screeches, abruptly sitting up. you gasp, almost falling off the bed.

clearing your throat, you reach out to grab the bowl, placing it in your lap and grabbing a spoonful, blowing on it slightly before leaning away. “here…”

mingi stares at you, wide-eyed.

you purse your lips. “mingi, i need you to eat so that you can get better.”

“right!” he says, his voice an octave higher than usual as he moves to eat the soup. when he leans back, mingi sees you smiling at him.

his stomach does some summersaults.

STEP FIVE: TAKE CARE OF MINGI (THIS SHOWS THAT HE IS VERY IMPORTANT TO YOU)

mingi puffs his cheeks out, trying not to laugh as he takes out his keys.

“yunho, i need you to carry the cake… actually, never mind, jongho can you please carry the cake?”

yunho gasps. “yn, do you not believe in me and my capabilities to carry a cake?”

“...no, i don’t.”

“what the—”

hongjoong claps once. “stop fighting!” he says. “mingi’s going to be here any minute now—”

“actually,” pipes up seonghwa. “it says that he just arrived.”

“what the fuck!” wooyoung screams. “guys, hurry the fuck up! he’s coming!”

“wooyoung… stop screaming… you’re giving us away,” yeosang says.

“yeah, what my boyfriend said.” san says.

“san, dude, how many times do i have to tell you that i am not your boyfriend.”

mingi takes in a deep breath before shoving his keys into the lock, the noise going on on the other side immediately stopping. he can hear you all shuffling around until someone whisper-shouts at jongho to go shut the door.

“what the—but i’m carrying the cake?” jongho sounds baffled.

“give me the cake and go stop mingi from coming in! yunho hasn’t finished hanging the stupid banner!” you cry out.

mingi assumes jongho’s laying his weight on top of the door because he can’t push it open.

“did you just call me stupid, yn?”

“no, but i will if you don’t hurry up!”

“guys,” hongjoong sighs, and mingi can bet that he’s rubbing his temples. “i think mingi can hear you.”

he sure can.

“okay, jongho come back!”

mingi snorts, pushing the door open and flicking the lights on. yunho’s awkwardly holding the end of a birthday banner up while the other end is taped onto the wall. hongjoong and seonghwa both sigh in unison at how badly the surprise is coming along, and wooyoung and san are trying to push each other out of the way so that one of them can stand next to yeosang, who is rolling his eyes and trying to shuffle away from the two. jongho stands to your side, the only one who is actually smiling at him—oh, he’s lying.

you’re smiling at him while holding a birthday cake.

“suprise, mings!” you say.

everyone yells happy birthday to him, and somehow he finds himself getting shoved by wooyoung towards the small table he has by the kitchen. you’re standing next to him, laughing as you put the paper party hat on his head, making sure that the thin string is secured underneath his chin before moving to get the knife.

“let mingi cut the cake!” wooyoung yells.

“he could get himself cut, and the birthday boy shouldn’t have to do it unless he wants to,” you chide, glancing up at mingi through your eyelashes. “do you want to cut it, mings?”

he swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head afterwards. “no,” he breathes out, licking his lips. “you can do it for me, if that’s okay.”

you grin at him, carefully cutting up the cake. you place the slices on plates, making sure that the biggest slice goes to mingi.

oh no, he thinks.

you’ve officially completed his five-step-guide to his heart.

“um, yn?” mingi leans down to whisper into your ear.

you hum in response.

“can we talk for a sec?”

nodding, you let yourself get dragged by mingi into his room. after closing the door, he looks at you and you notice that his ears are very red.

“are you okay?” you ask, pointing at your ears. “your ears are red.”

mingi whines, covering his face with his hand. “can you turn around real quick?”

“okay…”

mingi peeks through his fingers, sighing in relief when your back is facing him. he clears his throat and wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans. “i, uh… would you like to go out for dinner sometime this week?”

“as a date?” you ask, fighting the urge to turn around to look at him.

in a small voice, mingi replies. “yeah… as a date.”

“i’d like that.”

[simpforj]

I’m crying..😭 I need a part 3 of this masterpiece

the return of the princess treatment chronicles ?!

synopsis. mingi loves that you treat him like a princess, really, he does! hey, he means it! he really likes it! however... he's a tad bit sad that he's the only one getting flustered by such actions while you're basking in pride of your affect on him. which is why he must show you the power of the princess treatment himself! little does he know that you, his sweets, also have a very special list...

pairing. bf! song mingi x fem! reader

genres/au. fluff, romance, comedy, established relationship, non idol au, (implied) college au

warnings. couple stuff (kissing, hugging, etc.), cursing, teasing, mentions of alcohol (and alcohol consumption), a guy being weird 💀, yunho has. a weird goofy and all knowing moment (i will not elaborate on this).

rating. sfw, pg-16

wc. 3.4k

part 1 here !

a/n. my last work of the year ! how exciting~~ i hope you all like the long awaited part two of the princess treatment chronicles !! not proofread... again... lol...

reblogs and comments are appreciated as it helps with not getting shadowbanned !

MINGI looks down at you, eyes narrowed as he tries to gauge your expression, while you happily hum. he wants to ask you if you feel uncomfortable, holding his hand while he has his arm thrown over your shoulder, instead he asks the opposite.

"be honest," he says, his tongue darting out to lick his lips while your gaze flickers up to him, trying to see him through the worn edges of mingi’s hoodie, before going back to what's in front of you. "do you know about the list?"

"what list?" you ask, a brow raised at him. you push the door open to the bar and walk in after he does. "oh!" gasping, you grin at him, entwining your hands. "are you talking about the poems you have in your notes app?"

mingi gapes at you, ears turning bright red and his cheeks matching the color. "what? no!"

"oh," you blink at him. "well, that's the only thing i've read on your phone. which reminds me…" stopping before you reach your usual table, you wiggle your eyebrows at him, lips tugged to form a lopsided smile. "who are you writing those love poems about, hm? are they about me, loverboy?"

scrunching his nose, mingi leans down and bumps his forehead with your own, eyes darting over every feature on your face. you quiet down, the words you wanted to say getting caught in the back of your throat at the intensity of your boyfriend's gaze. with a low hum, a small smile breaks out on his lips. “and what if they are about you, hm?”

your eyes widen in a comedic manner, face feeling unbearably hot as you gently push him away. mingi laughs wholeheartedly at your flustered reaction, following after you as you hurriedly slide into the same booth as yunho's, who stares between you and mingi with an eyebrow cocked. mingi shrugs, taking a seat next to you and effectively sandwiching you between him and the other giant in your trio.

“what's got you looking like that?” yunho asks, blinking as his hand reaches out to grab a fry from the tray he ordered not too long ago.

“mingi,” you mumble, reaching out and grabbing a handful of fries, popping one into your mouth and chewing slowly. “by the way, he’s acting weird.”

“he’s always weird,” yunho replies, deadpanning. mingi leans over to whack the back of the blond’s head, emitting a whine from him.

“am not,” mingi huffs, eyes narrowed down at yunho. naturally, he throws his arm around you, his hand playing with material covering your shoulder. “by the way, did you tell her about the list?”

completely ignoring his question, yunho turns his attention towards you. “you know about the list?”

“what list?” you ask, exasperation laced in your voice. “the only list i know about is the one filled with love poems he dedicates to me.”

“you know about that, too?” yunho looks over at mingi. “dude, you are so bad at hiding stuff from yn.”

“what list are you guys talking about?” you look between both of your best friends, pouting.

“nothing!” mingi says, attempting to distract you from the conversation at hand by peppering your face with kisses.

it works.

when mingi pulls away and you stop giggling, you feel heart pick up its pace with the pretty smile mingi wears, eyes forming crescents as he looks at you. he presses one last kiss on your nose, nuzzling his head into your cheek before standing up, whispering about how he’ll go get you something to drink.

once mingi is gone, you abruptly twist around and pinch yunho’s arm, holding the skin in between your fingers while he whines. in the midst of yunho trying to swat your hand away, you lower your voice, “did you tell him about the list?”

with a successful smack to your hand, your best friend huffs and raises a brow, lips slightly pursed. “and why would i tell him about that?”

“it’s just,” your gaze flickers over to your boyfriend, watching him talk with the bartender, “i… you know…”

yunho hums, “it’s important. i know… i wouldn’t tell him about it, you know that.”

“yeah… yeah,” you nod, “you’re right.”

“what’s he right about this time, sweets?” mingi slides in next to you, handing you a beer bottle. his arm goes to rest around you again, his fingers mindlessly playing with your hair. 

with a scoff, you reply. “that he’s weird.”

“i am not weird,” yunho throws you a dirty glare, emitting a shout of protest as he steals your beer. “and you can’t drink.”

while yunho sticks his tongue out at you, momentarily distracted, mingi reaches out and grabs the beer from him. “i’ll drink my girlfriend’s beer, thank you very much.”

you take the bottle from mingi and take a swig from it, mumbling how you’ll drink it yourself. yunho bites back the grin that wants to appear on his lips, noticing the flustered expression on your face while mingi simply laughs and tells you to give it to him if you don’t want to finish it.

oh, you are so smitten and mingi is so going to complete that list of yours.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE HONEST (BECAUSE I HATE LYING PEOPLE! YOU CAN THANK MY EX BOYFRIEND FOR THIS! AND ME FOR ADVISING HER TO ADD THIS —JEONG YUNHO, HER BEST FRIEND)

yunho’s note at the end of your writing makes your lips curl upwards, a soft chuckle leaving them. with a finger running down the expanse of the worn out page of your old physics notebook, you close it and push it back into your bookshelf just as the door swings open. mingi walks into your room, shoulders sagging as his feet drag against the wooden floor. you huff through your nose, turning around and opening your arms to which he falls into them, groaning in relief as his form hunches over you to dig his nose into the crook of your neck.

“rough day?” you ask, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck before you flatten your palm and thread your fingers through his hair, surprised that his hair is damp. he probably came over as soon as he finished taking a shower and changed into his pjs. “don’t you feel uncomfortable?”

“yes and no,” he mumbles. “yes: rough day at work today. too busy. no: i don’t feel uncomfortable. you’re like, the most comfortable person ever. i like hugging you, you know? oh, and you’re also—”

“baby,” pushing him back by the shoulders, mingi pouts at you, making you giggle. “you’re rambling.”

“i like rambling,” he blurts out, “just with you, though. i don’t like doing that with others.” his fingers absentmindedly rub figures into your hip.

snorting in amusement, you bring him into a hug and feel him let out a content sigh. “you’re awfully honest today, mings. it’s a,” trailing off, you grin, eyes twinkling in mischief, “...stark contrast to your usual boy cries wolf self.”

mingi clicks his tongue tiredly, “yeah, well, i don’t have to be like that with you. i’m just plain ol’ song mingi with you. hey, can i stay the night? i like sleeping with you.”

you hum, rolling your eyes in a playful manner, trying to ignore the fuzziness of your mind. the male grumbles something incoherent, and he grabs your hand afterwards to pull you towards your bed, basically tugging you to fall into it with him. mingi lifts himself up slightly to pull down the duvet, making you do the same before he’s already pushing it back up, snaking his arms around you and pulling you closer to him with a grunt. “you need a new bed.”

“no i don’t,” you laugh.

“yes, you do. it’s too tiny for the both of us.”

he’s right—his feet always peek out from the end of the bed.

“you’re awfully honest today.”

“just because i can be myself with you,” he mumbles into your hair, his grip around your waist tightening. “it’s not tiring to talk with you. i don’t have to pretend to be someone else. like with my coworkers! so tiring...”

“is that so…”

you’re met with soft snores coming from your boyfriend and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE YOURSELF! (DON’T PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU’RE NOT! THANK MY EX BOYFRIEND FOR THIS AND ME FOR TELLING HER TO ADD THIS —YUNHO)

mingi grabs your hand and brings them up to his lips, brushing them against the skin of the back and letting your entwined fingers fall back between the two of you, swinging it idly. “why are you nervous, sweets?”

“why wouldn’t i be nervous is the real question here,” you say, glancing up at mingi. with a small sigh, you continue, “i just want your family to like me, mingi.”

he grabs you by the shoulders, twisting you so that you stand in front of him and tugging you into a hug. as he rocks both of you from side-to-side, he laughs quietly, “don’t worry, yn. they’ll like you just as much as i do. my mom is going to love you right off the bat.”

“and how do you know that?” you question, tilting your head up.

mingi scratches his cheek in a sheepish manner, “i, um, talk about you to her a lot.”

the front door of his mom’s place opens, his mom smiling widely at the sight of you and her son staring at her with wide eyes. you can tell she wants to tease the both of you but resists the urge to do so, instead ushering you two inside, apologizing for having you guys stand outside in the cold for so long. and just like that, as soon as you take off your shoes and hand your coat over to mingi, you’re whisked away by his mom and sat next to his aunt where you end up laughing to the point of tears at the stories they tell you of mingi’s childhood.

“one time, i was sick and i don’t really like chicken soup, so mingi tried making me a vegetable soup and even made a dance called ‘the veggie get better soon’ dance.”

you laugh in disbelief, “auntie, you're joking right?”

mingi’s mom shakes her head, laughing along with you. “now why would i lie about that? oh, does he still have that habit of needing to sleep with something?”

“yes. i’m his victim.”

“oh sweetie… good luck.”

his mom and aunt start talking about something else that you should, in theory, pay attention to. however, your favorite person's laugh fills the air and effectively grabs your attention. mingi sits on the couch by the door, playing with his baby cousins while the older one tells him something you can’t quite hear. but you watch as mingi throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut and his smile trembling from how hard he’s laughing, his body shaking.

“oh,” his mom lets out a content sigh, smiling fondly.

you peer over at her. “he hasn’t changed one bit, i see.”

and you think you can agree with her—that mingi hasn't changed one bit since you met him. your heart aches and silently hopes that he never does change.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: TREAT HER RIGHT! (I SWEAR IF I END UP DATING ANOTHER DICKWAD I WILL CRY! AND I WILL PERSONALLY CRY WITH HER! —YUNHO)

yunho talks about something that just happened to him, taking a sip from his red party cup and wincing at the pungent taste of horribly mixed alcohol. he mumbles something to his best pal, but it doesn't quite meet mingi’s ears. you see, he is a little occupied with keeping an eye an you, who had left his side earlier to greet some of your friends at the small party being held by one of his friends. when you were ready to go back to his side, some stinky guy decided to keep you from doing just that. he watches with a stoic expression as the guy continuously shimmies closer to you, a frown soon etched onto his lips when he notices the way your polite smile wavers and your eye twitches just the tiniest bit.

you’re annoyed. and rightfully so! he would be annoyed too if some person were to keep him from going back to you!

so he walks over, jaw tensing when he hears something he should never hear.

“why are you acting like such an ass? i’m just trying to ask you out—”

mingi silently grabs onto the back of the shorter male’s collar, pulling him back just enough for him to glower down at him. “apologize to her.” he’s surprised at how he, oddly, sounds calm when anger is bubbling in his chest right now.

the guy rolls his eyes. “why should i? and who the hell are you?”

“her boyfriend,” he barks out a chuckle, leaning down to be at eye level with him, “and i don’t like the way you just treated her. apologize to her while i’m asking nicely.”

the storm that rages inside him calms down, your touch lulling him back to you. mingi glances back at you, your skin hot against his. he lets go of the guy roughly, barely acknowledging the way he stumbles away as quickly as possible. with his hands cupping your cheeks gently, he tilts your head to the side, eyebrows pinched together in worry. “sweets, are you okay? are you feeling sick? you feel really warm—”

that’s because he’s doing quite the number on your heart right now and you’re not sure what to do with the growing feeling in your chest, the one that you’re so afraid of after the last fiasco that was your previous relationship.

this calls for a guidance meeting with yunho soon!

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE THERE FOR HER! (I WILL PROPOSE TO YOU ON THE SPOT! SHE REALLY WILL! —YUNHO)

“you’re in love with him,” yunho shrugs.

you gawk at how easily he said that. “i—well, i’m not sure if he feels the same way!”

your best friend gives you a pointed look. “are you blind or something?”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.

“only a fool wouldn’t be able to see how much mingi loves you… so i guess that makes you a fool, yn!” 

your conversation from earlier replays itself in your mind. you can’t believe yunho just… said that to you and left afterwards to deal with your brain melting down all by yourself. now you lay in your bed, curled into yourself while you hear the clock in your living room tick and tick and tick away, the sound making time feel like it’s on a loop.

with a frustrated sigh, you screw your eyes shut and grab a pillow from behind you, moving it to the front so that you can hug it while you contemplate the meaning of your existence and the heavy weight of yunho’s words in your mind. but then you hear your front door open and close, followed by some shuffling.

“dear robber,” you shout, “i’m a poor, poor student that just graduated. i’m literally so broke right now, so i suggest you make yourself a meal in my kitchen before heading out.” the door to your room creaks open; you squint an eye open, seeing mingi lean against the doorframe. “aren’t you supposed to be on your way to work?”

“yunho told me you were feeling down, so i got someone to cover my shift under the excuse that i have a stupid fever.” he hums, pushing himself towards you. kneeling down in front of you, mingi brushes some of your hair away from your face.

curse yunho for opening his big mouth.

you make a mental note to yourself that you will be having a talk with that man before shaking your head, merely stretching your arms out and making grabby hands at your boyfriend. he chuckles, shedding his glasses off and putting them on your nightstand, sliding in beside you as you scoot over to make more space for him. you let out a content sigh, resting your head on his chest where you can easily hear the steady beating of his heart. you melt in his arms, your worries washed away as soon as he wraps an arm around your waist.

it’s silent for a minute.

or maybe less than that.

“you need a bigger bed. it’s too small for the two of us.”

snorting, you hit his back softly. “no i don’t.”

“...but you do.”

you laugh this time, and mingi triumphantly smiles because he knows that whatever had you down in the dumps is now gone from your mind, the sign of your shoulders relaxed is a tell tale sign that he’s doing a pretty good job at making you feel at ease right now.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: SAY THE L WORD TO HER FIRST (BECAUSE I WILL NEVER AGAIN SAY IT FIRST! YOU CAN THANK MY EX FOR THAT! FUCK THAT GUY, NO ONE LIKES HIM! —YUNHO)

celebrating the day that is gift giving, christmas, on the twentieth with yunho and mingi became a tradition as soon as you three started college. it is a tradition that, a year after graduation, won’t ever change. so you’re sitting on the ground in front of the small tree in yunho’s apartment, a couple of presents littering the ground around it which makes for a pretty funny sight, if you do say so yourself. mingi sits to your left, giggling as he tries grabbing the presents that are tagged as his while yunho gets up with the goal of making hot chocolate for you guys to drink before the clock strikes twelve.

only because his goal is to get you two alone in hopes that mingi says he loves you first… but you don’t have to know that and neither does mingi!

you slap mingi’s hands away as he tries tearing the wrapping paper from one of the smaller gifts in his pile. he whines and pouts, rubbing his hand. “i can’t believe you just hurt me.”

“that’s on you,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him.

it happens out of the blue: mingi leans over and shoves the hood of one of his stolen hoodies over your head. you yelp in surprise and try swatting his hand away while he laughs, only for him to let out a noise, something between a yelp and a high pitched squeal, as he somehow ends up toppling over you. groaning, you manage to remove his hand from the hoodie and pull it back, narrowing your eyes up at mingi. he ignores the look on your face, his hand slowly finding itself touching your nose, your cheek and then your mouth, his thumb running over the expanse of your bottom lip softly. you watch him intently, your chest rising and falling quickly.

“you’re really pretty,” he mumbles, replacing his thumb in favor of brushing his lips against yours in a brief kiss. instead of pulling away, he says something else—something that has you tearing up. “you’re pretty inside, too. you have the most beautiful soul ever… one of the reasons why i love you so much. more than you’ll ever know, i think.”

the corners of his lips tug upwards to a form a pretty grin while he wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. “why are you crying, yn?”

“because i love you and i thought…” you clear your throat, “i thought that you didn’t feel the same way…”

“and i told her that she was a fool,” yunho pipes up, placing the two cups of hot chocolate on the table. “but i told you that mingi loves you and you didn’t want to listen to me.”

scoffing, you take off the antler headband from mingi’s head and throw at it yunho. he raises an unamused brow as it flies past his head and hits the wall. “...really?” he looks into the distance. “hey, author! i think it’s my turn to have—”

“what the hell is he going on about?” mingi whispers to you. you both sit up and watch your crazy best friend talk to the air in front of him, waving his arms every once in a while like a madman.

with a grimace, you reply. “i don’t know… do you want to knock him out and see if that does anything to him?”

“...yeah, i think i’ll do that.”

perma taglist. @asjkdk @kodzukein @hrt4jeno @jeonride @lissiesykes @satsuri3su @atinytownclown @sanhwaism @ad0rechuu

[simpforj]

the return of the princess treatment chronicles ?!

synopsis. mingi loves that you treat him like a princess, really, he does! hey, he means it! he really likes it! however... he's a tad bit sad that he's the only one getting flustered by such actions while you're basking in pride of your affect on him. which is why he must show you the power of the princess treatment himself! little does he know that you, his sweets, also have a very special list...

pairing. bf! song mingi x fem! reader

genres/au. fluff, romance, comedy, established relationship, non idol au, (implied) college au

warnings. couple stuff (kissing, hugging, etc.), cursing, teasing, mentions of alcohol (and alcohol consumption), a guy being weird 💀, yunho has. a weird goofy and all knowing moment (i will not elaborate on this).

rating. sfw, pg-16

wc. 3.4k

part 1 here !

a/n. my last work of the year ! how exciting~~ i hope you all like the long awaited part two of the princess treatment chronicles !! not proofread... again... lol...

reblogs and comments are appreciated as it helps with not getting shadowbanned !

MINGI looks down at you, eyes narrowed as he tries to gauge your expression, while you happily hum. he wants to ask you if you feel uncomfortable, holding his hand while he has his arm thrown over your shoulder, instead he asks the opposite.

"be honest," he says, his tongue darting out to lick his lips while your gaze flickers up to him, trying to see him through the worn edges of mingi’s hoodie, before going back to what's in front of you. "do you know about the list?"

"what list?" you ask, a brow raised at him. you push the door open to the bar and walk in after he does. "oh!" gasping, you grin at him, entwining your hands. "are you talking about the poems you have in your notes app?"

mingi gapes at you, ears turning bright red and his cheeks matching the color. "what? no!"

"oh," you blink at him. "well, that's the only thing i've read on your phone. which reminds me…" stopping before you reach your usual table, you wiggle your eyebrows at him, lips tugged to form a lopsided smile. "who are you writing those love poems about, hm? are they about me, loverboy?"

scrunching his nose, mingi leans down and bumps his forehead with your own, eyes darting over every feature on your face. you quiet down, the words you wanted to say getting caught in the back of your throat at the intensity of your boyfriend's gaze. with a low hum, a small smile breaks out on his lips. “and what if they are about you, hm?”

your eyes widen in a comedic manner, face feeling unbearably hot as you gently push him away. mingi laughs wholeheartedly at your flustered reaction, following after you as you hurriedly slide into the same booth as yunho's, who stares between you and mingi with an eyebrow cocked. mingi shrugs, taking a seat next to you and effectively sandwiching you between him and the other giant in your trio.

“what's got you looking like that?” yunho asks, blinking as his hand reaches out to grab a fry from the tray he ordered not too long ago.

“mingi,” you mumble, reaching out and grabbing a handful of fries, popping one into your mouth and chewing slowly. “by the way, he’s acting weird.”

“he’s always weird,” yunho replies, deadpanning. mingi leans over to whack the back of the blond’s head, emitting a whine from him.

“am not,” mingi huffs, eyes narrowed down at yunho. naturally, he throws his arm around you, his hand playing with material covering your shoulder. “by the way, did you tell her about the list?”

completely ignoring his question, yunho turns his attention towards you. “you know about the list?”

“what list?” you ask, exasperation laced in your voice. “the only list i know about is the one filled with love poems he dedicates to me.”

“you know about that, too?” yunho looks over at mingi. “dude, you are so bad at hiding stuff from yn.”

“what list are you guys talking about?” you look between both of your best friends, pouting.

“nothing!” mingi says, attempting to distract you from the conversation at hand by peppering your face with kisses.

it works.

when mingi pulls away and you stop giggling, you feel heart pick up its pace with the pretty smile mingi wears, eyes forming crescents as he looks at you. he presses one last kiss on your nose, nuzzling his head into your cheek before standing up, whispering about how he’ll go get you something to drink.

once mingi is gone, you abruptly twist around and pinch yunho’s arm, holding the skin in between your fingers while he whines. in the midst of yunho trying to swat your hand away, you lower your voice, “did you tell him about the list?”

with a successful smack to your hand, your best friend huffs and raises a brow, lips slightly pursed. “and why would i tell him about that?”

“it’s just,” your gaze flickers over to your boyfriend, watching him talk with the bartender, “i… you know…”

yunho hums, “it’s important. i know… i wouldn’t tell him about it, you know that.”

“yeah… yeah,” you nod, “you’re right.”

“what’s he right about this time, sweets?” mingi slides in next to you, handing you a beer bottle. his arm goes to rest around you again, his fingers mindlessly playing with your hair. 

with a scoff, you reply. “that he’s weird.”

“i am not weird,” yunho throws you a dirty glare, emitting a shout of protest as he steals your beer. “and you can’t drink.”

while yunho sticks his tongue out at you, momentarily distracted, mingi reaches out and grabs the beer from him. “i’ll drink my girlfriend’s beer, thank you very much.”

you take the bottle from mingi and take a swig from it, mumbling how you’ll drink it yourself. yunho bites back the grin that wants to appear on his lips, noticing the flustered expression on your face while mingi simply laughs and tells you to give it to him if you don’t want to finish it.

oh, you are so smitten and mingi is so going to complete that list of yours.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE HONEST (BECAUSE I HATE LYING PEOPLE! YOU CAN THANK MY EX BOYFRIEND FOR THIS! AND ME FOR ADVISING HER TO ADD THIS —JEONG YUNHO, HER BEST FRIEND)

yunho’s note at the end of your writing makes your lips curl upwards, a soft chuckle leaving them. with a finger running down the expanse of the worn out page of your old physics notebook, you close it and push it back into your bookshelf just as the door swings open. mingi walks into your room, shoulders sagging as his feet drag against the wooden floor. you huff through your nose, turning around and opening your arms to which he falls into them, groaning in relief as his form hunches over you to dig his nose into the crook of your neck.

“rough day?” you ask, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck before you flatten your palm and thread your fingers through his hair, surprised that his hair is damp. he probably came over as soon as he finished taking a shower and changed into his pjs. “don’t you feel uncomfortable?”

“yes and no,” he mumbles. “yes: rough day at work today. too busy. no: i don’t feel uncomfortable. you’re like, the most comfortable person ever. i like hugging you, you know? oh, and you’re also—”

“baby,” pushing him back by the shoulders, mingi pouts at you, making you giggle. “you’re rambling.”

“i like rambling,” he blurts out, “just with you, though. i don’t like doing that with others.” his fingers absentmindedly rub figures into your hip.

snorting in amusement, you bring him into a hug and feel him let out a content sigh. “you’re awfully honest today, mings. it’s a,” trailing off, you grin, eyes twinkling in mischief, “...stark contrast to your usual boy cries wolf self.”

mingi clicks his tongue tiredly, “yeah, well, i don’t have to be like that with you. i’m just plain ol’ song mingi with you. hey, can i stay the night? i like sleeping with you.”

you hum, rolling your eyes in a playful manner, trying to ignore the fuzziness of your mind. the male grumbles something incoherent, and he grabs your hand afterwards to pull you towards your bed, basically tugging you to fall into it with him. mingi lifts himself up slightly to pull down the duvet, making you do the same before he’s already pushing it back up, snaking his arms around you and pulling you closer to him with a grunt. “you need a new bed.”

“no i don’t,” you laugh.

“yes, you do. it’s too tiny for the both of us.”

he’s right—his feet always peek out from the end of the bed.

“you’re awfully honest today.”

“just because i can be myself with you,” he mumbles into your hair, his grip around your waist tightening. “it’s not tiring to talk with you. i don’t have to pretend to be someone else. like with my coworkers! so tiring...”

“is that so…”

you’re met with soft snores coming from your boyfriend and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE YOURSELF! (DON’T PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU’RE NOT! THANK MY EX BOYFRIEND FOR THIS AND ME FOR TELLING HER TO ADD THIS —YUNHO)

mingi grabs your hand and brings them up to his lips, brushing them against the skin of the back and letting your entwined fingers fall back between the two of you, swinging it idly. “why are you nervous, sweets?”

“why wouldn’t i be nervous is the real question here,” you say, glancing up at mingi. with a small sigh, you continue, “i just want your family to like me, mingi.”

he grabs you by the shoulders, twisting you so that you stand in front of him and tugging you into a hug. as he rocks both of you from side-to-side, he laughs quietly, “don’t worry, yn. they’ll like you just as much as i do. my mom is going to love you right off the bat.”

“and how do you know that?” you question, tilting your head up.

mingi scratches his cheek in a sheepish manner, “i, um, talk about you to her a lot.”

the front door of his mom’s place opens, his mom smiling widely at the sight of you and her son staring at her with wide eyes. you can tell she wants to tease the both of you but resists the urge to do so, instead ushering you two inside, apologizing for having you guys stand outside in the cold for so long. and just like that, as soon as you take off your shoes and hand your coat over to mingi, you’re whisked away by his mom and sat next to his aunt where you end up laughing to the point of tears at the stories they tell you of mingi’s childhood.

“one time, i was sick and i don’t really like chicken soup, so mingi tried making me a vegetable soup and even made a dance called ‘the veggie get better soon’ dance.”

you laugh in disbelief, “auntie, you're joking right?”

mingi’s mom shakes her head, laughing along with you. “now why would i lie about that? oh, does he still have that habit of needing to sleep with something?”

“yes. i’m his victim.”

“oh sweetie… good luck.”

his mom and aunt start talking about something else that you should, in theory, pay attention to. however, your favorite person's laugh fills the air and effectively grabs your attention. mingi sits on the couch by the door, playing with his baby cousins while the older one tells him something you can’t quite hear. but you watch as mingi throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut and his smile trembling from how hard he’s laughing, his body shaking.

“oh,” his mom lets out a content sigh, smiling fondly.

you peer over at her. “he hasn’t changed one bit, i see.”

and you think you can agree with her—that mingi hasn't changed one bit since you met him. your heart aches and silently hopes that he never does change.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: TREAT HER RIGHT! (I SWEAR IF I END UP DATING ANOTHER DICKWAD I WILL CRY! AND I WILL PERSONALLY CRY WITH HER! —YUNHO)

yunho talks about something that just happened to him, taking a sip from his red party cup and wincing at the pungent taste of horribly mixed alcohol. he mumbles something to his best pal, but it doesn't quite meet mingi’s ears. you see, he is a little occupied with keeping an eye an you, who had left his side earlier to greet some of your friends at the small party being held by one of his friends. when you were ready to go back to his side, some stinky guy decided to keep you from doing just that. he watches with a stoic expression as the guy continuously shimmies closer to you, a frown soon etched onto his lips when he notices the way your polite smile wavers and your eye twitches just the tiniest bit.

you’re annoyed. and rightfully so! he would be annoyed too if some person were to keep him from going back to you!

so he walks over, jaw tensing when he hears something he should never hear.

“why are you acting like such an ass? i’m just trying to ask you out—”

mingi silently grabs onto the back of the shorter male’s collar, pulling him back just enough for him to glower down at him. “apologize to her.” he’s surprised at how he, oddly, sounds calm when anger is bubbling in his chest right now.

the guy rolls his eyes. “why should i? and who the hell are you?”

“her boyfriend,” he barks out a chuckle, leaning down to be at eye level with him, “and i don’t like the way you just treated her. apologize to her while i’m asking nicely.”

the storm that rages inside him calms down, your touch lulling him back to you. mingi glances back at you, your skin hot against his. he lets go of the guy roughly, barely acknowledging the way he stumbles away as quickly as possible. with his hands cupping your cheeks gently, he tilts your head to the side, eyebrows pinched together in worry. “sweets, are you okay? are you feeling sick? you feel really warm—”

that’s because he’s doing quite the number on your heart right now and you’re not sure what to do with the growing feeling in your chest, the one that you’re so afraid of after the last fiasco that was your previous relationship.

this calls for a guidance meeting with yunho soon!

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE THERE FOR HER! (I WILL PROPOSE TO YOU ON THE SPOT! SHE REALLY WILL! —YUNHO)

“you’re in love with him,” yunho shrugs.

you gawk at how easily he said that. “i—well, i’m not sure if he feels the same way!”

your best friend gives you a pointed look. “are you blind or something?”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.

“only a fool wouldn’t be able to see how much mingi loves you… so i guess that makes you a fool, yn!” 

your conversation from earlier replays itself in your mind. you can’t believe yunho just… said that to you and left afterwards to deal with your brain melting down all by yourself. now you lay in your bed, curled into yourself while you hear the clock in your living room tick and tick and tick away, the sound making time feel like it’s on a loop.

with a frustrated sigh, you screw your eyes shut and grab a pillow from behind you, moving it to the front so that you can hug it while you contemplate the meaning of your existence and the heavy weight of yunho’s words in your mind. but then you hear your front door open and close, followed by some shuffling.

“dear robber,” you shout, “i’m a poor, poor student that just graduated. i’m literally so broke right now, so i suggest you make yourself a meal in my kitchen before heading out.” the door to your room creaks open; you squint an eye open, seeing mingi lean against the doorframe. “aren’t you supposed to be on your way to work?”

“yunho told me you were feeling down, so i got someone to cover my shift under the excuse that i have a stupid fever.” he hums, pushing himself towards you. kneeling down in front of you, mingi brushes some of your hair away from your face.

curse yunho for opening his big mouth.

you make a mental note to yourself that you will be having a talk with that man before shaking your head, merely stretching your arms out and making grabby hands at your boyfriend. he chuckles, shedding his glasses off and putting them on your nightstand, sliding in beside you as you scoot over to make more space for him. you let out a content sigh, resting your head on his chest where you can easily hear the steady beating of his heart. you melt in his arms, your worries washed away as soon as he wraps an arm around your waist.

it’s silent for a minute.

or maybe less than that.

“you need a bigger bed. it’s too small for the two of us.”

snorting, you hit his back softly. “no i don’t.”

“...but you do.”

you laugh this time, and mingi triumphantly smiles because he knows that whatever had you down in the dumps is now gone from your mind, the sign of your shoulders relaxed is a tell tale sign that he’s doing a pretty good job at making you feel at ease right now.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: SAY THE L WORD TO HER FIRST (BECAUSE I WILL NEVER AGAIN SAY IT FIRST! YOU CAN THANK MY EX FOR THAT! FUCK THAT GUY, NO ONE LIKES HIM! —YUNHO)

celebrating the day that is gift giving, christmas, on the twentieth with yunho and mingi became a tradition as soon as you three started college. it is a tradition that, a year after graduation, won’t ever change. so you’re sitting on the ground in front of the small tree in yunho’s apartment, a couple of presents littering the ground around it which makes for a pretty funny sight, if you do say so yourself. mingi sits to your left, giggling as he tries grabbing the presents that are tagged as his while yunho gets up with the goal of making hot chocolate for you guys to drink before the clock strikes twelve.

only because his goal is to get you two alone in hopes that mingi says he loves you first… but you don’t have to know that and neither does mingi!

you slap mingi’s hands away as he tries tearing the wrapping paper from one of the smaller gifts in his pile. he whines and pouts, rubbing his hand. “i can’t believe you just hurt me.”

“that’s on you,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him.

it happens out of the blue: mingi leans over and shoves the hood of one of his stolen hoodies over your head. you yelp in surprise and try swatting his hand away while he laughs, only for him to let out a noise, something between a yelp and a high pitched squeal, as he somehow ends up toppling over you. groaning, you manage to remove his hand from the hoodie and pull it back, narrowing your eyes up at mingi. he ignores the look on your face, his hand slowly finding itself touching your nose, your cheek and then your mouth, his thumb running over the expanse of your bottom lip softly. you watch him intently, your chest rising and falling quickly.

“you’re really pretty,” he mumbles, replacing his thumb in favor of brushing his lips against yours in a brief kiss. instead of pulling away, he says something else—something that has you tearing up. “you’re pretty inside, too. you have the most beautiful soul ever… one of the reasons why i love you so much. more than you’ll ever know, i think.”

the corners of his lips tug upwards to a form a pretty grin while he wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. “why are you crying, yn?”

“because i love you and i thought…” you clear your throat, “i thought that you didn’t feel the same way…”

“and i told her that she was a fool,” yunho pipes up, placing the two cups of hot chocolate on the table. “but i told you that mingi loves you and you didn’t want to listen to me.”

scoffing, you take off the antler headband from mingi’s head and throw at it yunho. he raises an unamused brow as it flies past his head and hits the wall. “...really?” he looks into the distance. “hey, author! i think it’s my turn to have—”

“what the hell is he going on about?” mingi whispers to you. you both sit up and watch your crazy best friend talk to the air in front of him, waving his arms every once in a while like a madman.

with a grimace, you reply. “i don’t know… do you want to knock him out and see if that does anything to him?”

“...yeah, i think i’ll do that.”

perma taglist. @asjkdk @kodzukein @hrt4jeno @jeonride @lissiesykes @satsuri3su @atinytownclown @sanhwaism @ad0rechuu

[simpforj]

Dreamland

pairing: mingi x gender neutral reader! genre: established relationship and fluff ~ wc: 1k summary: you have had a long day at work and just can't wait to see your boyfriend. little did you know, he was going to surprise you instead of doing your typical routine together.

a/n: this is my very first fic!! i hope you all enjoy my insane love for mingi hehe! i am looking forward to write more in the future :) please share any feedback you may have! much appreciated!

You tiredly look at the time on your computer, hoping the work day is finally over.

It’s only 3 pm!? 

You think to yourself, releasing a deep sigh. You take out your phone to text your boyfriend to get into a better headspace, hoping his sweet words will give you the energy to keep going instead of quitting on the spot.

“Mangiiiiiiiiii~”

“Babeeeeeeee!~”

“I’m not sure if I can make it. It’s only 3 o’clock. I’m tired, stressed, and just miss you ;-;”

“You can’t give up y/n!! I will not allow it! >:( I did make it home early so if you get through the day I will give you all the love in the world!”

You giggle at his text. You knew whatever he was gonna say was going to make you smile. You have a feeling he will have some dinner ready for you with your favorite cozy pajamas out for you to change into immediately. You grow a big smile on your face just thinking about it.

“Okay! I will work hard until the very end! Love you bunches! <3”

“That’s what I like to hear~ love you bunches too!”

You heart his message and put your phone away. You straighten your posture and get right to work with this new fire under you that Mingi has given you.

*****

As you are walking up to your apartment door, you could smell delicious food floating in the air. You can’t really make out what it is, but you know it’s going to be good. 

You excitedly unlock your door and walk in, quickly closing the door behind you and taking off your shoes.

“Mingi, I’m back!” You exclaim, as you put your shoes in their place.

“Babe!”

Mingi scurries over to you, wrapping his strong arms around you in a tight bear hug.

You wrap your arms back around him, squishing your face deeper into his chest, feeling his warmth that you have missed all day while being in an office ice box. You take a deep breath, breathing in his scent. You really are back home.

Mingi kisses the top of your head. You can feel his smile through the kiss, making you giggle.

“I’m so happy you’re home. I have a fun surprise for you!”

“Really?” You look up at him with a confused look. You thought you already predicted what the night will be but didn’t expect your boyfriend to do something more than the usual.

Mingi releases you, looking at you with the most precious smile. He moves out the way of your vision into the apartment, leaving his one arm wrapped around your waist.

“Tada!!” He opens his other arm out presenting what he has done.

You scan the room in amazement. 

The living room has been transformed with blankets and pillows on the floor while the couch is now a pillow fort with fairy lights all around it. The coffee table has a lit candle, smelling like eucalyptus, along with two plates of the dinner you two are about to eat together. 

You scan over to the kitchen to the left of you, seeing two mugs, packets of hot chocolate, and a big bag of mini marshmallows - all set and ready for your sweet treat after your dinner. 

“You have been working so hard lately,” Mingi says, breaking the silence. “I really wanted to do something extra special for you this time around. I remember you mentioning how you used to do this as a kid and I thought it would be fun to have you experience that again”

You are speechless and before you realize it, a few tears fall down your face.

Mingi hears you sniffling and looks down at you “Y/n! Why are you crying??” 

He cups his large but soft hands around your face, wiping the tears gently with his thumbs. 

“Did I upset you with this? I am so sorry..” 

Mingi looks at you so worried, like a puppy who thinks they did something wrong.

You look up at him, cupping his face as well, bringing his face closer to yours to give him a soft but meaningful kiss. 

“No, Mingi. I love this so much. I am just feeling so overjoyed right now” 

You give him a soft smile and kiss him one more time.

Mingi releases his hands from your face and places them on your hips, bringing your body closer to his. He leans more into your kiss with much more passion.

You both release and you give him the biggest smile with sparkly eyes from your tears. 

“Now I would love to try this dinner you made and snuggle up to you in our pillow fort!”

Mingi gave you the biggest smile, kissed your forehead, and took your hand to lead you to your pillowfort dreamland. 

At this moment, you couldn’t believe you are being shown so much love from Mingi. You never had luck with relationships in the past but here you are now with someone who thinks about you and will do anything to make your days much happier. 

You smile with this thought as you take a bite of your food.

“What are you smiling about?” Mingi asks with his own smile on his face.

You shrug as you put your fork down “Nothing really. Just feeling very lucky having you as mine” 

You blush in embarrassment from even saying something like this out loud.

“Seems like more than nothing to me!” Mingi chuckles then gives you a kiss on your temple. “I also feel very lucky”

You lean into him as his arm wraps around you. You both continue to eat together snuggled up, laughing and enjoying each other's company. 

I wonder what other surprises he will come up with next.

[simpforj]

Mingi As Your Boyfriend

Boyfriend

(n.) A person who 90% of the time annoy you, and 10% of the time makes you forget the 90%

Ateez masterlist here

This man will blush as red as a tomato if you give him any compliment. He is so soft and kind, please protect him. Mingi is a very sensitive person. He's easily embarrassed, and he blushes easily. But this doesn't mean that he's not confident. He's just very humble and doesn't like to brag about himself. Mingi is also a very kind and gentle person. He's always there for his friends and family, and he's always willing to help out. He's the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back. Mingi is a precious gem, and he deserves to be protected. He's the kind of person who makes the world a better place, and he should be cherished.

You love to squish his cheeks and tell him how cute he is. He always protests, "I'm not cute!" but you don't care. You keep going until he gives up and just smiles at you. Mingi is a very cute person, and you can't help but squish his cheeks. He's got these big, round cheeks that are just begging to be squeezed. And when you do, he always blushes and protests. But you know he loves it. He'll say things like, "I'm not cute!" or "Stop it, you're embarrassing me!" But you just keep going. You know that he's secretly enjoying it, and you love to see him blush. Eventually, he'll give up and just smile at you. He knows that there's no point in protesting. You're going to squish his cheeks no matter what he says.

Mingi admires you a lot. He can't help but wonder how there could be someone so perfect. Sometimes, he can't stop giving you compliments. And you need to remind him that he is also a very perfect person in this world. He always sees the good in others, and he's always quick to compliment them. He's especially complimentary of you. He loves the way you look, the way you think, and the way you make him feel. Sometimes, Mingi's compliments can be a little overwhelming. You might start to feel like you're not worthy of his praise. But you need to remember that Mingi is just being himself. He sees the best in you, and he wants you to see it too. So next time Mingi gives you a compliment, don't brush it off. Take a moment to appreciate it. And then, remind him that he's also a very perfect person. He's kind, thoughtful, and loving. He's the perfect person for you. Mingi needs to hear these things from you. He needs to know that you see the good in him, just like he sees the good in you. So don't be afraid to tell him how you feel. He'll appreciate it more than you know.

Mingi freaks out if you hurt yourself. He'll panic and run around, trying to think of what to do. He might say things like, "I need to get a bubble wrap for you," or "Maybe you should be with me 24/7 so I can make sure you're fine." He loves you very much, and he can't stand to see you hurt. When you get hurt, he feels like he's failed you. He wants to protect you from everything that could hurt you, but he knows that's not possible. So when you get hurt, Mingi's first instinct is to panic. He doesn't know what to do, and he's afraid that he's going to make things worse. He might say things that don't make sense, or he might do things that aren't helpful. But he's just trying to help. The best thing you can do when Mingi is freaking out is to stay calm. Tell him that you're okay, and that he doesn't need to panic. Remind him that you're there for him, and that you'll get through this together.

Mingi is so proud to be your boyfriend. He thinks he's the luckiest guy in the world to have you. He'll often proclaim to everyone that he's the best boyfriend ever. Mingi is a very confident person. He believes in himself and his abilities. He also loves to show off. So when he's with you, he can't help but brag about how great of a boyfriend he is. He might say things like, "I'm the best boyfriend ever!" or "I'm so lucky to have them. They are the most amazing person in the world." Mingi's proclamations might come off as a little arrogant, but he doesn't mean them to be. He's just really proud of you and your relationship. He loves you very much, and he wants the world to know how lucky he is to have you. So if you ever hear Mingi proclaiming to be the best boyfriend ever, just know that he's really just trying to show you how much he loves you.

When Mingi is sick, he turns into a big baby. He doesn't want anything else. All he needs is you. He wants to stay close to you all the time. Mingi is a very independent person. He's always been the strong one, the one who takes care of others. But when he's sick, all of that changes. He becomes weak and vulnerable, and he needs someone to take care of him. And that's where you come in. When Mingi is sick, you're his everything. You're the one who makes him feel better. You're the one who takes care of him. You're the one who makes him feel safe and loved. When Mingi is sick, he just wants to be close to you. He wants to be held by you. He wants to hear your voice. He wants to feel your warmth. He wants to know that he's not alone. So if Mingi ever gets sick, just be there for him. Hold him close. Take care of him. Make him feel better. And he'll be yours forever.

Mingi loves doing everything with you by his side. He's always eager to learn new things, especially if it means spending more time with you. He loves the way you're interested in his hobbies, and he loves the way you make him feel. He loves learning new things, and he loves sharing his passions with others. When he's with you, he's always eager to learn about your hobbies and interests. He wants to know everything about you, and he wants to share everything about himself with you. Mingi also loves the way you make him feel. He feels loved, supported, and cherished when he's with you. He knows that he can be himself around you, and he loves that. You and Mingi are meant to be together. You're both passionate, you're both supportive, and you're both interested in each other's lives. You're a perfect match, and you're going to have a wonderful life together.

[simpforj]

Song Mingi: Boyfriend Material 🧡

[simpforj]

skip and kiss

SUMMARY; mingi says, "you have to kiss me if you skip a song because you're being disrespectful to my music taste!"

FEATURING; song mingi x gn!reader

TAGS; fluff, established relationship (boyfriend!mingi), slight humor

WORD COUNT; 1.4 K

WARNINGS; use of pet names, some kissing, mentions of sexting (but there isn't any scene of it), suggestive

NOTES FROM KALA; inspired by the song that mingi recommended (skip and kiss by sik-k) and i missed this boy sm 😔🖐🏻 the song mingi does have a great taste in songs yuhh >> mingi song recs playlist here !

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

The cold air from the air conditioner blows your face. You're lying on top of Mingi's chest while his back half leaning to the sofa bed, he's stroking your hair affectionately, occasionally kissing the top of your head when he's entertained by the stories you tell about your life experiences that he finds engaging. You aren't looking at each other right now. Mingi can only see your back. Yet you feel so loved in his embrace.

You love it when Mingi listens to you tell stories, making you the center of his attention. He always makes you the sole object of his attention when you tell him anecdotes or stories even though sometimes, they aren't that important, and aren't even funny. But Mingi likes to hear you ramble your thoughts to him. He stores everything about you in a room inside his brain while observing how you think when you respond to an annoying moment with your co-workers. According to Mingi, when he hears you tell him a story, he gets to know your attitude and the way you act, and how you solve problems, which inspires him to deal with difficult things in this life.

You are his role model. Mingi is your biggest fan in everything you do. Sometimes you wonder why he likes you that much. There was a moment when you were remaining silent, literally just breathing but Mingi looked at you as if you were a TV show that was so interesting and worth it for him to binge-watch.

Like now, Mingi kisses your cheek while complimenting you. "Your skin feels so soft," his compliments sound half-whispered, but you can feel his sincerity knocks your heart.

"Yeah because I applied your moisturizer." you reply with a slight touch of humor, successfully making Mingi laugh. His laugh makes you smile instantly.

"That's okay, you can use it. We can share, I don't mind."

You stroke his hand in response. Then there is a moment of silence between the two of you. You're really enjoying this moment— weekend, and you can spend time together with Mingi without worrying about unfinished assignments. Spending time with your boyfriend always manages to charge your energy again before starting a brand new day which will be just as tiring as days you successfully passed.

"Baby, I'm sorry can you hand me my phone? Wanna listen to my playlist while we're laying like this." he says, you follow Mingi's gaze to the table in front of your gray sofa bed. You get up slightly, struggling to pick up Mingi's phone on the wooden table because you are too lazy to stand. Not when you can feel the warmth of Mingi's embrace and his sturdy hands wrapped around your waist as if to imply 'don't go anywhere, please just stay in my embrace.'

You manage to grab Mingi's phone without actually standing up, then hand the phone with always pristine screen to its owner. "Here,"

"Thank you, baby." Mingi enters the password on the lockscreen. His hands are still wrapped around your waist as he holds the phone and his chin lands on your shoulder, so you get a view of what he's doing on his phone. You giggle as you look at Mingi's wallpaper— it's your photo, the one you sent him over chat. It's a selfie of you sensually licking on a lollipop, deliberately teasing Mingi. You remember sending it in the middle of the night and successfully getting Mingi to call you, asking for a sexting and you agreed.

"The wallpaper's cute,"

"Oh, shit." Mingi hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Please pretend like you don't see anything."

"And why is that?"

"I'm... embarrassed." You can feel how hot Mingi's cheeks are on your skin. You chuckle, then your hand strokes the top of his head, ruffling his hair gently because you think Mingi is so adorable right now.

"Why are you embarrassed? I remember even when sexting you were so—"

"Okay, baby. Stop. I'm really embarrassed now..."

You turn your head to the side, holding Mingi's chin with your forefinger, directing his face to look at you. He looks up, gazing at you shyly. You can see both of Mingi's ears turning red now.

"My baby being embarrassed, huh?"

Mingi nods slowly, looking adorable and delightful at the same time. Seeing how embarrassed his expression is, you don't continue your teasing.

Mingi on the other hand starts to open his playlist, and connecting his phone to the speakers in the tv room of his apartment via bluetooth. He presses the play button, it's only the first song, literally just started. But you press the skip button.

"Hey!" Mingi reprimands, his tone gets higher an octave. He seems disappointed. "You can't do that, baby. At least, not when the first song jus started!"

"But I'm in the mood to listen to the next song," you retort, cut the chase.

Mingi sighs in an unbelievable look. "Then you have to kiss me if you skip a song because you're being disrespectful with my music taste!"

"Oh come on, Mingi!" you protest. But eventually nod in agreement. This big baby of yours has to be obeyed otherwise his lips will continue to pout. "Okay then, deal."

Mingi smiles with satisfaction. He points to his soft and pink lips— that look so tempting, signaling you to kiss him. "Then kiss me. You just skipped literally the first song,"

You nod, smiling— the duchenne smile, and Mingi finds it enthralling, so lovely. You lean closer to him, kissing his lips softly. As soon as you suck on Mingi's lower lip, he instinctively opens his mouth. Returning your kiss with all his love. But when his tongue just met yours, you pull away. Mingi's face imprinted with a disappointed look, "Baby—"

"If I keep kissing you it will be a neverending make out session, Mingi. I've known you for years."

"Oh," he laughs. "You know me too well."

You return to your respective positions, you rest your head on Mingi's chest as if he was your pillow. You love hearing his heartbeat that always races when he's with you. Beating fast just for you.

Mingi's hand slowly slips into the shirt you're wearing, his shirt, the one he gave you when you arrived at his apartment. You were all wet because of the rain.

His large palm strokes your stomach, up and down. There is no lust involved, he just wants to give you a few strokes to soothe your body that had been working hard all week.

"Baby," he calls you in such a honey-like voice. "Can you just skip the next song?"

"Huh? Why?"

"I wanna be kissed by these pretty lips." Mingi strokes your lips with his thumb even though you have your back facing his face. He did it by muscle memory.

"Nope. Unfortunately the third one is also my favorite song,"

"Okay, changing rules. You have to kiss me everytime you listen to each song on my playlist."

You chortle. "Hey, that's cheating! We have to stick around to the first rule."

"Baby," he whines, with his deep ass voice though. "I'm the one who made this kissing game so I have the absolute right to change the rules."

"It's like you're forcing me to kiss you, Mingi." you shake your head acting as if you're disappointed, but a smile forms on your face. Happy just with the thought of him desperately wanting to be kissed by you.

"No, no please don't be misunderstood, I'm just... eager to—"

You kiss his lips again, at this time to shut his mouth. Mingi is surprised, of course. But he returns your kiss wholeheartedly. You open your mouth once his tongue knocks on your lips with such tenderness, wanting you to open your mouth for him and only him. Your tongue meets with his, entwining, saliva mixing. Mingi also grazes your teeth one by one with his surprisingly flexible and skilled tongue. Your fingers run to his hair, as he deepens the kiss by cupping your cheek.

The cold air from the air conditioner does nothing to lower the heat of the fire inside your chest. It's the way he kisses you that makes you weak. He feels like he wants all of you, wants to savor all of you, wants to feel the word 'baby' from your mouth on his lips while he's kissing you passionately. Everything about you is so addicting to him. Oh, you're such a lovely creature in his eyes.

Mingi ends the kiss when he can feel you need to catch your breath. He smiles, a smile that looks prettier than anything you've seen in this world. And you're sure you'll fail when you look for something more beautiful to beat his smile.

"I will never get enough of your kiss."

"Of course you do, Mingi."

And both of you laugh together, hearts feeling full with love for each other.

© jeonride 2023. all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost any of my writing anywhere!

[simpforj]

𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 — loud and clear

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — fluff, ftl

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 — s.mg x fem! r

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 — friends to lovers (kind of), best friend! mingi, one curse word, fluff

𝘸𝘤 — 426

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 — repost bc mingi is so very pretty <3

𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳'𝘴 𝘴𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰�� 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥, 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 "𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵" 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺!

It never occurred to you how pretty Song Mingi was, of course you knew he was good-looking, how could you not, but you never got to take the chance to just look at him. You never just sat there to admire his features, but now that you’ve done so, you realize that he is utterly breathtaking.

You were interrupted by Mingi himself; he wore a teasing smile on his face and his eyes slightly scrunched up as his face muscles worked, “You know, it’s not polite to stare at people.” He teased, leaning closer to you from across the wooden table you both occupied.

It was a beautiful Saturday and Mingi had invited you to spend the day with him in the park, to which you obviously accepted the offer, he was your best friend after all.

You quickly made up an excuse as to why you were staring, slightly embarrassed at being caught, “You’ve got something on your face.” You deadpanned, gesturing to the area around your mouth, which wasn’t a lie, he really did.

You had gone to the convenience store before this and bought snacks to enjoy as you basked in the sun.

He recoiled back, showing slight shock in his expression, “Oh, really?” He chuckled, wiping around his mouth, but missing the spot each time.

You watched him with a fond smile, wordlessly motioning him over, to which he leaned over the table as you turned away to grab a napkin.

Once you turned back, you were met with a face full of Mingi (not that you were complaining), his eyes bore into yours, they shone beautifully in the sunlight, from a dark brown to a strikingly beautiful chestnut color.

You couldn’t stop yourself from commenting on their beauty, “I’ve never noticed how pretty your eyes are in the sun.” You spoke breathily, it was like he took your breath away.

His soft chuckle brought you out of your mini daydream, you cleared your through and quickly wiped off the food particles from the lower corner of his mouth.

“Do you want to repeat yourself love?” He asked, “I couldn’t hear you properly.” He declared, sitting correctly in his spot on the bench. You could tell by his smirk that he heard you loud and clear, he was just teasing for his own personal fun.

“You heard me,” You grumbled, “Loud and clear.”

“Mmh,” He hummed, squinting his eyes at you, “I don’t think I did.”

You groaned at him, playfully throwing the napkin in your hand at him, “Fuck off Mingi.”

𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪

[simpforj]

How would dating Mingi be like?

You would be dating a literal angel????

First and foremost, Mingi would be a great listener. He would genuinely care about your thoughts, opinions and aspirations.

Whenever you share your ideas or concerns, he would give you his undivided attention, offering support and encouragement. Mingi’s attentive nature would make you feel valued and understood, creating a strong foundation of trust and emotional connection.

Mingi's creativity would shine through in your relationship. He would go the extra mile to plan special dates and surprises, aiming to create memorable experiences for the two of you.

Whether it’s taking you on a spontaneous road trip or surprising you with tickets to a concert, Mingi would always find ways to keep the relationship dynamic and full of joy.

Despite his strong stage presence, Mingi would also appreciate the quieter moments together. He would cherish the intimacy of shared silence, finding comfort in simply being by your side.

Mingi’s calming presence would make you feel at ease, creating a safe space where you can be yourself without judgment.

Mingi's dedication and passion for his craft would undoubtedly be present in his relationship with you. He would approach the relationship with the same level of commitment and drive that he puts into his music and performances.

Mingi would always strive to better himself as a partner, actively working on communication, understanding, and growth. His determination and perseverance would inspire you to pursue your own dreams and support each other's personal journeys.

In addition to being a caring partner, Mingi would also bring a sense of humor and playfulness to the relationship. He would have a knack for making you laugh, lightening the mood during challenging times and creating a joyful atmosphere. Mingi's infectious energy would make every moment spent together feel lively and exciting.

sorry I just love him so much

.

.

.

[simpforj]

You sat on Mingi's lap as he enveloped you in his strong arms, holding you close as you cried into his shoulder. He knew that words, despite your love for them written in ink, wouldn't quite comfort you. So instead, he let you cry, keeping a hand on the back of your head and using his thumb to rub comforting circles on your back. He made sure to hold you tight, holding onto you a little tighter if he ever heard your sobs increase, a gentle reminder that he had you. Eventually, your crying came to a stop, reduced to quiet sniffles. Noticing this, Mingi gently took you off his lap, placing both of you in a position on the bed where he could still hold you as the pillows supported your heads and your bodies were warmed by the cotton sheets. He kept one hand on your waist and the other stroking your hair.

“I love you, you know that?” Mingi whispered. He didn't expect an answer; he just wanted you to serve you a reminder as to the fact that he loved you deeply and would do anything for you. “Go to sleep, my love,” he said softly. “I'll be here when you wake up.” As you drifted out of conciousnes you felt his arms tighten around you, his lips pressing against the top of your head, and hearing him whisper the phrase, “You'll always be safe with me, angel.”

[simpforj]

God, I am not your strongest soldier

[simpforj]

PL4YG1RL IS LIVE…

“are you lonely? are you stressed out? you deserve some fun. get your headphones, lock up the bedroom door, log on.” — PL4YG1RL, LOLO ZOUAÏ 

PAIRING(S). na jaemin x fem!reader GENRE(S). thriller/suspense, yandere, smut, angst WORD COUNT. 20.6k WARNINGS. noncon, stalking, kidnapping, violence, mentions of blood, explicit smut (protected sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, oral (receiving), nipple play (receiving), masturbation (male & female), defiling of a stuffed animal, fingering, i think that’s it)  SUMMARY. you’re an up-and-coming camgirl, and na jaemin is a loyal supporter of your work–that is, until jaemin decides to take things to the next level.  PLAYLIST. PL4YG1RL - Lolo Zouaï, ALL MINE - Brent Faiyaz, ALL UP IN YOUR MIND - Beyoncé, Can I - Kehlani, Menace - Dounia

NOTES. hello… don’t crucify me. this is for halloween :) *insert obligatory “i don’t think these people are actually like this” statement that will protect me from anon hate* *insert compulsory “read the warnings and don’t come for me about content i warned you about” statement that will also protect me from anon hate*

if you read this fic, you assume full responsibility for consuming the content below, whether you read the warnings or not.

Saturday night, and Jaemin has nothing to do.

He sends a text to his group chat to see what they're up to before remembering it’s well past midnight. Rubbing a hand over his face, Jaemin pulls his laptop toward his body and onto his stomach. His fingers move of their own accord, typing in his favorite adult entertainment website and waiting as it loads. 

Index and middle fingers lazily scrolling through the copious amounts of explicit videos, Jaemin sighs heavily before an ad for a cam girl website catches his eye. A moment of hesitation, then a click takes him to the webpage, the background a lovely shade of pink as all the elements of the page load.

Jaemin is met with thumbnails of pretty girls in various states of undress, but no one is scratching the itch he has which is building up inside of him. A banner drops down from the top of the screen, attracting Jaemin’s attention.

PrettyKitty345 is now live.

Out of curiosity, he clicks, and the screen buffers for a moment before loading up a pretty girl with dark brown hair gazing seductively into the camera. Jaemin lingers for a moment until she speaks, her voice a perfect match for the sultry look she’s giving the viewers. 

Jaemin’s not into that, really. He likes them a little less deliberate, more effortlessly pretty. He clicks away and another banner comes down as if enticing Jaemin to stay on the website just a bit longer.

FunBunny is now live.

Another curious click brings Jaemin to the live feed of another pretty girl with white bunny ears on, whose voice is high and soft, a blatant contrast to PrettyKitty345 from earlier. Her performance is a bit too…childlike for Jaemin’s taste, discomfort swirling in his belly as he clicks away. 

PL4YG1RL is now live.

Jaemin sighs. He clicks—out of boredom, he tells himself—to enter the live feed. The second the screen finishes loading, Jaemin freezes in surprise.

You are quite literally the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Sitting up slowly, Jaemin moves the laptop to rest between his legs as he studies your setup carefully.

“Hello, pretty girl,” Jaemin whispers, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “Where did you come from?”

You’re sitting on your heels on your bed, wearing a lacy pink slip dress and a sweet, kind expression. Jaemin can practically feel the warmth radiating from your gaze, and he wets his lips as he sits forward, waiting for you to speak.

“Hi, everyone,” you say, and Jaemin’s eyes squeeze shut as he groans in ecstasy.

You’re perfect. Your voice is every bit as lovely as you look, and there’s something so genuine about the way you carry yourself on camera that has Jaemin falling rapidly.

“How is everyone doing? Have you all had a good day today?” you ask, and Jaemin scrambles to reply, a window popping up that blocks the chat. 

“‘You will need an account to participate in the live chat’—oh, fuck.” Jaemin mumbles, opening a new window and quickly signing up with the website. It asks for a payment option so you can send tips, so Jaemin brings his laptop with him to his coat pocket in the foyer of his house, fumbling single handedly with taking out his wallet and pulling out a card.

Meanwhile, you’re reading through the responses coming in from the chat. “You’ve had a bad day, NiceGuy19? I’m sorry to hear that,” you frown and Jaemin’s heart clenches at how cute you are. He finishes inputting his credit card information and the window preventing him from typing in the chat box disappears.

NaJaem13: had a good day

NaJaem13: was feeling kinda bored though

He makes his way back to his bedroom, climbing onto his bed and setting the laptop back down. 

“NaJaem13, you’re bored? I’m kinda bored, too.” you hum, and Jaemin feels a fluttering in his chest. “Maybe we could entertain each other,” you propose, a playful smile curling your lips, and Jaemin decides in that exact moment that he’s sticking around in this stream until it’s over.

NaJaem13: sounds good :)

Jaemin watches, content, as you make conversation with other patrons, and when you start playing soft R&B music in the background and swaying to the music with a pleasant smile, tips start to come in. 

First it’s 20 tokens, which, Jaemin quickly searches up, is barely anything. Your eyes light up, however, and you thank the tipper gratefully.

Next comes 50 tokens, and it’s almost as if it’s a competition between the bidders, Jaemin watching in silent awe as the numbers increase to 75, 100, 150, 200– You can barely thank the donors quickly enough, a delighted laugh tumbling off your tongue that has Jaemin’s heart soaring.

Jaemin thanks his lucky stars that he just got paid this Thursday, and with a few clicks of his trackpad, he tips you 350 tokens.

“Thank you so much, NaJaem13!” You smile widely, bouncing slightly in place with excitement. Jaemin’s heart clenches; he’d do anything for that smile.

NiceGuy19: how much to take your dress off? 

Jaemin can’t help but bristle at how forward “NiceGuy” is. Your brows raise in intrigue as you read through the chat, replying as best as you can to the messages coming in.

“NiceGuy19, if you’d like me to start taking clothes off, I have my goals for tonight on the display next to my feed,” you say politely.

Sure enough, Jaemin looks at the text to the left of your feed and sees that there are options to have you remove your dress, underwear, bra, dance around, play with a vibrator, dildo, or other sex toys, and Jaemin’s brain honestly fizzles out at the options asking you to do more. His mind is reeling thinking about his hands on your hips, moving you from position to position—

Jaemin’s hand finds his length before he even knows it, fingers gripping the thick base of his shaft and pumping his fist up and down.

Tips start escalating in value, the counter of tips received going up and nearing the numbers listed in your goals, and Jaemin hisses in delight when you run your hand up from your lap and over your breast to fix your hair casually. When you move to sit cross-legged on the bed, Jaemin catches a flash of your light pink underwear before you press your dress down between your legs and smile demurely. 

Jaemin’s hand speeds up, pumping his length in his fist rapidly as he daydreams about stripping you of your dress, running his hand over the lace of your underwear and toying with you until a pretty little damp spot appears in the seat of them. Then he’d pull them down your legs slowly, revealing your bare core, and tuck himself under your thighs, bringing his face level to your glistening—

Jaemin’s cumming before he even knows it, his release spurting out and landing on his shirt before the last drops dribble down his fist; he keeps going, however—fucking his hand slowly until he can’t bear it anymore and releasing himself with a shudder and a tensing of his abdomen that borders on painful.

Catching his breath, Jaemin watches you in a daze, eyes heavy-lidded as they drink in the sight of you. He studies your face, admiring your lips—

How he wishes to see those pretty lips wrapped around his fingers or his cock. How he’d love to watch them moan his name as he pleases you.

He watches your eyes—

So sweet and unsuspecting; he wants to watch those pretty eyes glaze over when he turns you into a pretty, drooling mess. He’d love to see your eyes all glossy with tears when he breaks you into the perfect little fuckdoll for him.

Your neck—

His hands itch to wrap around your neck, squeeze until you’re gasping for air, and release you not a moment too soon, lips littering kisses all over the heated skin as you desperately suck in fresh gulps of air.

He wants to fucking ruin you—destroy you, break you, make you his and utterly his alone. The desire is building, and it’s building rapidly—Jaemin has never felt this way before.

His gaze drops to your legs, lifts to your breasts, runs over your body eagerly—

His tongue gliding over the swell of your breasts, fingers digging into your thighs greedily, hot and hungry—ripping off your clothes and revealing you to him, raw, bare, vulnerable; he wants you utterly exposed so he can take you for himself. Ruin any other man for you, have his name on the tip of your tongue every time you climax, memories of his touch ghosting over your most sensitive places at any given moment—

The rest of your live is short—technical difficulties cause you to have to end the stream earlier than expected with a precious frown and sweet, sincere apology—but you promise to see everyone again at the same time on Tuesday night, and Jaemin already knows he’ll be there because he’s sure of one thing, and one thing only.

Jaemin wants you—and he wants you bad. 

You check your reflection in the camera one last time before sitting back and clicking the live button. Casually scrolling through your phone, you wait for viewers to come in, adjusting the light pink slip you’re wearing.

NiceGuy19: hi playgirl

“Hi, NiceGuy19,” you say with a smile, looking into the camera as you speak next. “Are you doing alright tonight?” 

NiceGuy19: doing so well now that you’re live

“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle bashfully. 

A few more comments start to roll in as your live picks up traction, and you do your best to answer each one, giving everyone the attention they’re requesting.

A familiar handle pops up and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi, NaJaem13,” you smile just a bit wider, wanting to really cater to the user who gives the most generous tips. “It’s nice to see you again.”

NaJaem13: couldn’t stay away from you

“You’re so smooth,” you laugh, amused by his boldness. “You must have broken a lot of hearts, huh?”

NaJaem13: maybe a few

“I missed you last week,” you pout at the camera, and several tips come in. “You left me.”

NaJaem13: won’t happen again

NaJaem13: i promise

He can promise anything he wants as long as the tips keep coming in. You smile at his response and proceed to give your other tippers attention—they paid for a show and you’ll give them one.

You’re still playing it up for the camera, answering a few more questions and thanking the tippers, when a hefty tip and a comment by NaJaem13 catch your eye.

NaJaem13: wish i could have you to myself

You can’t help but raise a brow in intrigue, silently hoping he’s as attractive as he seems. 

“NaJaem13, you can always book me for a private show,” you offer, pointing to the left of your screen at the drop down list of booking options. 

NaJaem13: my name is Jaemin btw

“Nice to meet you, Jaemin,” you coo, giving a small wave to the camera. 

A banner notification drops down on your screen and you read the words curiously.

NiceGuy19 has requested a private show.

You mask your disappointment—that wasn’t exactly who you were aiming for, but it’s still a good thing—and click ‘Accept,’ the time of the show taking you by surprise. 

You’re not sure if NiceGuy19 and NaJaem13—Jaemin, you think; his name is Jaemin—are in some sort of competition, but it doesn’t seem like a coincidence that he booked you for a show for the duration of the time you would be on live…right after you offered a private show to Jaemin.

You actually don’t fully care if they’re beefing or whatever—the money in your pocket is taking no sides—so you just flash a regretful smile at the camera, fixing your hair.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but I have a private show scheduled for right now; I have to cut the live short.” you frown apologetically, and several responses, ranging from sad to annoyed to understanding, flood the chat. “I know, guys, I’m sorry, truly. I’ll be here next week for sure, okay?”

NiceGuy19: see you in a minute ;)

NaJaem13: have fun NiceGuy

NaJaem13: have a good night playgirl :)

“You too, Jaemin,” you hum kindly, giving one last wave before turning off the camera. 

Things escalate the following week when Jaemin decides he isn’t about to let NiceGuy19 swoop in and steal you away again.

After a couple of moments of futzing around on the website page, Jaemin finds the link to book you for a private session and fumbles through the process with excited fingers. He books you for tonight, right after your public show, and sits back in excitement as he waits for his time alone with you. 

PL4YG1RL has accepted your request for a private show.

His phone lights up, likely a confirmation from his banking app that the transaction went through, and Jaemin can’t help but wince at the steep deduction his account’s going to be hit with.

It’s worth it, though, because he gets you.

After what feels like ages, your show finally ends and the display goes black. A buffering symbol appears on the screen, only heightening his anticipation for you. 

After a couple of minutes, your screen loads and Jaemin is practically blown away by your beauty. 

Yes, he just saw you, but he’ll never get tired of watching you. 

“Hi, NaJaem,” you hum, smiling. “My favorite viewer—how are you tonight?”

Jaemin’s mouth goes dry as he sits forward to type out a reply.

NaJaem13: i’m better now that you’re here

NaJaem13: how’s my favorite girl doing?

“Your favorite girl? Stop, you’ll make me shy,” you laugh, and Jaemin smiles widely even though you can’t see him.

NaJaem13: i like you shy

NaJaem13: it’s cute

“You’re such a charmer,” you giggle. “Is there something you’d like me to do for you tonight?”

Jaemin thinks for a minute; he didn’t fully have a plan—he just wanted you all to himself for a night.

You’re patient while he thinks, humming a soft tune to yourself, and Jaemin marvels at just how lovely you are.

His eyes land on something almost out of frame, and he smiles.

NaJaem13: is that a stuffed animal?

Your head cocks to the side in confusion and Jaemin coos affectionately, finding you adorable. You look around you, your eyes lighting up in recognition as you pull a large teddy bear onto the screen from out of frame.

“Yes, it is!” you chirp, and Jaemin wets his lips with his tongue before typing out another message.

NaJaem13: i want you to ride that teddy bear until you cum

NaJaem13: can you do that for me?

Your eyes widen as you look from the screen to the stuffed animal in your hands and back to the screen. Nibbling your lower lip pensively, you nod, and Jaemin could just burst with excitement. You bring your setup to your bed before lying the bear down and straddling it. You start to rock your hips against the tan plushie, your brows furrowing in concentration, and Jaemin watches you with hungry eyes, his hand moving to palm himself through his sweats.

NaJaem13: just like that, angel

NaJaem13: doing so good

You whimper as your eyes flick to the screen, and he groans in delight, squeezing himself harder and starting to stroke himself. 

NaJaem13: how does it feel?

“So good,” you exhale shakily, and he grunts, pushing into his boxers and gripping his length, hot and heavy, at the base. 

NaJaem13: you look so pretty right now

NaJaem13: can you say my name, angel?

“Jaemin,” you moan, rocking onto the stuffie more eagerly. Your hands move from the bed to graze up your legs and torso until they’re cupping your breasts, squeezing them and shuddering with pleasure. “Jaemin, I think I’m close.” Your words come out as breathy pants that have Jaemin’s hand eagerly speeding up as he pumps his fist up and down his cock.

NaJaem13: good

NaJaem13: keep going baby. just like that

“Jaemin, can I cum?” you ask, desperation all over your face, and Jaemin nods vigorously, feeling his own climax approach, before realizing that you can’t see him.

NaJaem13: you can cum, angel

NaJaem13: cum for nana

“Nana,” you plead in a broken whine, and Jaemin watches in awe as your rocking speeds up—he tries to match the pace with his hand—and your head tips back as your climax hits. Whimpers fall from your lips freely until you bite your lip to stifle the sounds—an action, Jaemin notes, that he wishes you hadn’t done. 

You are, without a doubt, the most mesmerizing sight he’s laid his eyes on in ages, and Jaemin’s climax comes rushing in without a moment’s hesitation.

Jaemin’s cock throbs in his hand and his eyes shut tightly as he thrusts up into his hand, cum spilling from the slit and dribbling down his fist, warm and wet and white.

“God, fuck,” he groans in delight, eagerly sitting forward to study you closely. You’re still straddling the stuffed animal, and your eyes are visibly glazed over even through the computer screen. There’s a beautiful lazy, content smile on your lips, and Jaemin wishes he could take you in his arms and kiss your smile over and over again.

NaJaem13: you are so beautiful

NaJaem13: you did such a good job

“Jaemin, please, all this praise is getting to my head,” you joke, grinning bashfully, and he can’t help but chuckle fondly.

NaJaem13: good

NaJaem13: you deserve it

NaJaem13: wish i could see that pretty smile in person

You look away shyly, smiling and there’s a moment that passes in which Jaemin realizes you’re debating on whether or not to say something.

NaJaem13: what’s wrong?

“Nothing, actually,” you say sincerely, and Jaemin hums in intrigue. “I just wanted to let you know that I have some in-person slots—”

Holy shit.

NaJaem13: i’ll be sure to book one with you

“Oh—awesome,” you reply, smiling sweetly. Jaemin’s heart could burst right now and he’d die a happy man. “The link is that way,” you explain, pointing to the left of the screen, and sure enough, there’s a series of links, one titled “Book a Session.” 

NaJaem13: found it

You shoot him a thumbs up before looking off-screen for a moment, whatever you lay eyes on making you frown cutely. “I’m sorry, but we only have about three more minutes together tonight.”

NaJaem13: don’t worry about it

NaJaem13: get some sleep

Jaemin sends you a generous tip, your eyes widening in surprise when it shows up on your screen.

“Thank you, Jaemin,” you say gratefully, a shocked but pleased smile on your pretty lips. “Hopefully I see you again soon.”

NaJaem13: you will

You wave for a moment, then the screen goes black and a message shows up on the screen.

Your session with PL4YG1RL has ended.

Jaemin doesn’t want to let you book with anyone else; not after having you all to himself. He clicks the link you pointed to a moment ago, impatiently drumming his fingers on the keyboard as it loads, and the new page shows a calendar with appointment slots highlighted. Jaemin books the earliest available appointment for Tuesday at 4:00pm and sits back excitedly as the confirmation page loads.

Your appointment has been booked. Please check your email for your confirmation and further instructions.

Jaemin navigates to his email and reads over the list of stipulations. They seem standard and easy enough—like submitting a clean and recent STI test update—and a set of rules during the session—like always wearing a condom—and Jaemin scrolls and scrolls and scrolls some more until he sees the address you’re supposed to meet up at, and he smiles widely, saving it to his notes.

Three days until Jaemin meets the object of his affections. Jaemin feels like a child on Christmas Eve—well, the eve of Christmas Eve’s eve. He can hardly wait.  

Jaemin sits in the hotel lobby, knee bouncing nervously as he waits for you. He scans the faces of everyone who enters the lobby curiously, his heart falling in disappointment when none of them are you.

You’re not late, Jaemin’s just early—and eager. 

As a matter of fact, you walk in right on time, more beautiful than ever in a cute blouse and skirt combination. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so excited in his life.

He stands up and walks over to you, smiling when you two lock eyes. 

“Jaemin?” you say curiously, and he nods, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

He is beyond handsome, you think. You got lucky.

“Hey,” he replies, stepping a bit closer to you.

“Hi,” you parrot, admittedly taken aback by how attractive he is. “Are you, um, ready to go up?”

“I was actually thinking we could…hang out, kind of.” Jaemin says carefully, scanning your face for any sort of negative reaction.

“Oh?” you ask. “Like a date?”

“Yeah!” he confirms. “Like a date.”

“Okay,” you agree, smiling at the prospect of a date with him. 

“We can go out to a café or restaurant, maybe? Only if you want. It’d be my treat.” he proposes, and your smile widens. He’s cute when he’s nervous.

“Sounds good to me.” 

He grins and offers you his arm, your brows raising in an impressed surprise at his manners as you take it, the two of you heading towards the front door.

“So tell me about yourself, Jaemin,” you say, raising an eyebrow curiously. You two sit in a café over drinks and pastries, Jaemin eager to get to know you.

“Oh, uh…I don’t know,” he answers with a chuckle. “I’m in college…I have a brother…”

“Ooh, college?” you ask. “What are you studying?”

“Photography,” he answers, and you let out an impressed hum.

“Very cool,” you say encouragingly. “And you mentioned a brother? Older or younger?”

“Older,” Jaemin replies. “He’s a cop, actually.”

“Oh, wow.” you murmur, intrigued. 

“Can I hear more about you?” Jaemin asks, sitting forward. “What do you like? What do you like to do?” 

“Hm,” you muse, looking up in thought. “I like deer,” you finally answer, “and bunnies.”

Jaemin thinks that’s fitting for you.

“I like my job,” you continue. “Meeting all these different people is interesting.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Jaemin’s thoughts won’t stay quiet, urging him to get them off of his chest.

“Shoot.”

“Do you ever fake it?”

“Fake…?” Your head tilts to the side in confusion.

Jaemin already regrets asking. “Um, I mean, like, when you’re with other clients, and you—”

“I know what you mean, Jaemin,” you laugh. “I’m just teasing.”

“Oh, thank God.” 

“Off the record? All the time.”

“No way.” Jaemin can’t hide his shock.

“I probably fake it more times than I don’t.” You shrug, and he sits back in surprise.

“And that doesn’t get exhausting for you?”

“I can’t lie, it’s kind of fun to play it up every time.” you murmur conspiratorially, and Jaemin laughs.

You’re playful. You’re letting him know things you don’t tell other people.

There’s definitely something here.

“How do you know they don’t know you’re faking it?” he asks curiously, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Jaemin.”

“Hm?”

“You really think they care if I finish or not?” 

“Oh,” Jaemin mutters. He hadn’t thought about that. “I would care.” 

“Oh, yeah?” you hum playfully, nudging his foot with yours under the table. “Well, thank you. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” 

Jaemin’s heart could give out right now. You’re flirting with him. 

“Next time?” he says hopefully. “So I can see you again?”

You give him a small but flirtatious smile. “That’s up to you.”

The first session ends as well as Jaemin could have hoped. You got a little beneath surface level with him, flirted with him, laughed with him—Jaemin thinks you might even be starting to like him. 

He saw the way you eyed him when you first met; you’re definitely attracted to him. 

So he books you again.

And again.

And…again.

Jaemin can barely keep his eyes off of you. All you’re doing is ordering a drink at the counter, but you’re a vision of beauty in a soft yellow flowing dress, your hair tastefully styled away from your face, and his mind is racing with everything he wants to do to you.

It’s your fourth time together, and Jaemin still hasn’t made a move. He wants you so badly but wants you to want him too, so he’s been trying to get closer to you. He thinks it’s working, actually, because you seem to brighten whenever you catch sight of him. 

And all of that is well and good, but it doesn’t solve the problem he’s having right now. The very sight of you has his cock stirring in his pants.

“Are you okay, Jaemin?” you ask curiously, snapping him out of his thoughts. You’re looking at him with furrowed brows of concern, and Jaemin almost feels bad for worrying you.

“I’m alright,” he assures you, leaning forward to pay for your drink, and your face relaxes, the two of you walking over to the other side of the counter to wait for your drink. He stands just behind you, scanning your frame with desiring eyes. When you shift your weight from one foot to the other, a waft of your delicate perfume drifts into his face, and he has to control himself to restrain the groan that builds in his throat.

He decides to make his move—this isn’t how he planned for things to go today, but fuck it—and place his hands on your hips, squeezing you and pulling you closer to him.

“Hi,” you laugh, craning your neck to look back at him. 

“Mm,” Jaemin nuzzles into your hair and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo. “Hi. You smell so good.”

“Thank you,” you chuckle, leaning back against him. 

“And you look even better.” His voice is lower now, more seductive, and you hesitate, his tone piquing your curiosity and stirring up arousal in your stomach.

“T-Thank you,” you mumble, feeling shy now, and it’s Jaemin’s turn to chuckle, nosing past your hair to trail his lips along the shell of your ear. You take in a sharp breath at the somewhat ticklish sensation, your head tilting of its own accord to allow him more access to your neck.

His soft exhale sends warmth fanning over the sensitive area of skin, and you squirm slightly, arousal building as his lips press wet, slow, purposeful kisses down your ear to the spot just behind it. 

“Jaemin,” you warn softly, your voice whinier and huskier than you expected it to be. “We can’t do this here.”

He peppers light kisses down your neck until he’s at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, where he gently bites the skin there, relishing the whine you let out.

“I have an iced chai latte with almond milk!” the barista calls, and you move forward to pick it up, only to find yourself restrained by Jaemin’s strong arm anchoring you against him.

“Jaemin,” you whisper, “I have to get the drink.” You can’t help but laugh when he shuffles forwards with you to pick up the cup before you turn around—not without difficulty—in his embrace to face him, your eyes drifting from his darkened, lust-filled ones to his lips and back up. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Do you have any idea how good you look?” he groans, and you blink twice, stunned by the wave of arousal that has overcome him. “That little dress is just tempting me.”

You cock an eyebrow curiously. “Tempting you to do what?”

Jaemin leans in so your lips are barely apart from each other and wets his lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth. “Rip it off of you.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, instead closing the distance between you two in a kiss—your first one together—that leaves you reeling. You suck in a breath of air when your lips part, Jaemin immediately pulling you back to him with a deeper kiss, his tongue playing almost lazily with yours. He sucks on your bottom lip and releases you from the liplock when you tap his chest repeatedly to get his attention.

“The hotel down the block,” you murmur against his mouth as he strokes your cheek with his thumb, “the one we met at. I have a room.”

“Let’s go,” he says immediately, linking his fingers with yours and tugging you after him.

You two manage to make it back to the hotel quickly, hustling into the elevator where Jaemin all but pounces on you, pressing you up against the wall as the doors slide shut. The rail behind you digs uncomfortably into your back, but Jaemin’s lips on your neck distract you enough to the point where you no longer care.

“Wanted to do this for so long,” he grunts, sucking at the base of your neck and dragging his teeth along the patch of skin, making you gasp. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Jaemin,” you moan, your fingers sliding up his back to curl in his hair at the nape of his neck and tug. “That feels so good.” Desire blooms between your legs, warmth radiating out from your core to the rest of your body as you feel arousal start to leak from you. 

“Yeah?” he hums, moving back up to kiss your lips. “Gonna make you feel even better.” 

As if on cue, the elevator dings and the doors open on your floor, the two of you quickly making your way down the hall to your hotel room. Jaemin chuckles as you fumble around in your purse for the room key card, finally managing to catch it between your fingers and pull it out victoriously. 

You swipe the two of you in, and Jaemin barely lets the door shut before he’s pressing you up against the wall, his thigh slotting between your legs with ease. He threads his fingers in your hair, thumb caressing your jaw, and tilts your head towards him for easier access. His free hand slides around your waist, resting on the small of your back and pulling you closer to him.

“Jaemin,” you pant, pushing at his jacket to get it off of his shoulders and finally discarding it on the floor, “the bed.”

“Can’t I play with you a little bit right here?” he hums teasingly, his hand dropping from your back to hike up the hem of your dress. He strokes up the smooth flesh of your inner thigh and you hiss in pleasure, parting your legs wider for him. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, and he grins.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yes, Jaemin, please?” You sound impatient, and Jaemin smiles at the thought of you as desperate as him.

“Okay, angel,” he acquiesces, slipping his hand up higher until they’re stroking the lace of your underwear. His fingers push the garment aside until he’s taunting you by stroking at your folds which are now slick with arousal, and the whine that spills from your lips is well worth the wait.

“More,” you whisper, and his fingers dip into your wetness immediately, eager to give you everything you want and then some.

“How’s that?” he muses, a playful smile on his lips as two of his fingers push into you, and you cry out in pleasure, gripping his shoulder with one hand to brace yourself as he curls his fingers and starts pumping them inside of you.

“S’good,” you whine, your head tipping back against the wall, and Jaemin presses his lips against yours firmly, startling you.

“I don’t want you faking it,” he urges, and your eyes widen as you nod, having forgotten you told him about that. 

“I won’t,” you promise breathlessly, and he smiles, his fingers speeding up inside of you. “Just like that, oh, God—”

“You’re so wet,” he hums, the tip of his tongue flicking at your bottom lip teasingly. “You must really like me.” When your only reply is a plaintive moan, he grins proudly and kisses down to your collarbone, biting it gently as his fingers continue to thrust into you. It’s not too long before his fingers fuck directly into your g-spot and your hips start unconsciously grinding down to get more of him inside of you.

“Jaemin—”

“Nana,” he corrects, suddenly overcome with the need to hear you call him by his nickname.

“Nana—” you moan, “I’m close, I’m so close—”

“Yeah? Are you gonna cum all over my fingers, angel?” he’s practically taunting you, and the anticipation builds in your chest just as your pleasure builds in your lower abdomen.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, yes, please?”

“Cum for me, baby.” Jaemin watches in fascination as you ride his fingers to your climax, your chest pushing into his as your back arches, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight in his life.

When your climax finally subsides, you look at him with pretty, glazed over eyes and a shy yet beguiling smile that has Jaemin wanting to pin you down and make you cum over and over again.

But first, Jaemin has something else on his mind.

“Angel?” Jaemin asks carefully, and you cock your head curiously, waiting for his next words. “Can I feel your mouth around me?”

You don’t say anything, but your smile widens and you sink to your knees, opening his pants teasingly slowly, eyes locked on his until your hand wraps around the thick base of his length.

“You’re so big,” you hum in delight, and Jaemin smiles fondly, the expression dropping off his face abruptly when you exhale warm air over the head of his length, a small laugh falling from your lips when he shudders and he twitches in your hand.

You lay your tongue out flat, blinking up at him before dragging your tongue up his length slowly, swirling it around the tip before wrapping your lips around him and starting to bob your head up and down, your hands stroking at what you can’t yet fit in your mouth.

“God, fuck,” Jaemin grunts, his brows knitting together as you suck him off. You pull off of him and look him directly in the eyes as you let saliva drip off your tongue and onto his length. The wet warmth sliding down his cock only makes Jaemin hiss in pleasure when you resume your actions of sucking and stroking, using the spit as lubricant.

“So good,” he croaks, thrusting forward unconsciously. His cock hits the back of your throat and your throat constricts as you gag slightly, the sensation feeling like bliss to Jaemin. “Shit, sorry,” he apologizes, and you shake your head, pulling off of him.

“Do it again,” you urge, and his brows raise up so high they practically disappear into his hairline. 

“You want it, yeah?” He’s breathless, his hand wrapping over yours and aiding you in stroking him. “Angel wants Nana’s cock in her pretty little mouth?” 

“Yes,” you say, pouting, and Jaemin feels like his heart could just explode. “Please, Nana?”

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles, awestruck and in heaven. “Anything for you, angel. Open up.” He taps his cock against your lips, grinning when you part them and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. He rubs the head of his length against your tongue for a moment before slowly pushing into your mouth and starting to thrust. The faint wet gagging noises only add to the ambience, Jaemin’s grunts and pants helping to create a lustful soundscape.

“You like when I fuck your pretty little mouth?” he asks, and you nod, whining around him and sending vibrations all down his length. “You are so perfect,” he murmurs, infatuated with the sight of you on your knees for him. 

His thrusts speed up until he’s fucking into your mouth with sharp pumps, low groans leaving his lips freely. 

You’re taking it like a champ, Jaemin thinks, watching in fascination as your eyes go glassy, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes before they start spilling down your cheeks. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen, and the realization and wave of adoration he feels has him pulling out of your mouth abruptly.

“On the bed,” he urges, and you oblige, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. He hovers over you, encroaching on your space until you’re on your back, a playful smile on your lips as you look up at him. “Let’s get these off,” he murmurs, hiking up your dress to hook his fingers in your underwear and pull them off your legs. When your glistening core is exposed to him, he groans, pumping his cock in his fist slowly as he adjusts you further up the bed. 

Jaemin fishes out the condom he brought from his pants pocket on the floor, ripping the package open and rolling it on impatiently, before he presses his cock against your core, the head nestling between your folds to rest just before your entrance. 

He pushes into you slowly, a whoosh of relief leaving his lungs, and you clench around him, mewling at the sensation of him filling you up.

“So big,” you moan, and he leans over you again to capture your lips with his, kissing you sweetly to distract you from the discomfort as it ebbs away. 

“You’re so good,” Jaemin mumbles in a daze, silently praying you adjust soon so he can fuck you. “Doing so well.” 

“You can move,” you urge him in a soft voice, and he presses another kiss to your lips before straightening his back, draping one of your legs over his shoulder and pulling out to the tip before burying himself in your walls once more. 

He quickly builds up a pace that has broken moans falling from your lips and grunts from his, the sounds of skin slapping against skin resonating through the hotel room.

“Feels so good, angel,” Jaemin practically babbles, losing his sensibility the longer he fucks you. “So tight and wet, shit—” 

You respond with a flex of your walls around his length that draws an uncharacteristic whimper from him, and he can feel the beginnings of his climax stirring just behind his navel. He brings two fingers to his mouth and withdraws the now spit-slicked digits to bring them to your clit, massaging circles into the sensitive bud. 

You’re in bliss as Jaemin stimulates your clit with skillful strokes. He thrusts into you at a different angle than before and your nails dig into the bedspread as his tip kisses your g-spot.

“Oh, my God, right there!” You cry, and he grins smugly, complying and thrusting into the sensitive patch of nerves over and over again as your climax approaches rapidly. “Jaemin—” you plead, rocking back against him desperately. 

“Are you gonna cum again, angel?” he coos sweetly, and his grin only widens at your eager nod. “Good; cum for me, baby. Cum all over Nana’s cock.”

Pleasure washes over you in waves as your orgasm rushes through your body, and all you can do is whimper Jaemin’s name over and over as you ride out your high.

“Hang in there, baby, I’m close,” he groans, his thrusts speeding up as he focuses on getting himself to finish. He cums not long after you do, releasing into the condom with a shudder rippling down his spine. He hangs his head as he catches his breath and slowly pulls out of you, tying off the condom and heading to the garbage bin by the side of the bed. “Are you okay?” he asks, and you smile blissfully, nodding.

“I’m great,” you assure him, and he sighs in relief. 

“Good,” he replies. “Hold on one second,” he murmurs, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment and returning with a damp washcloth and you giggle as he cleans you up and then himself.

“You’re such a gentleman,” you say, smiling, and he shrugs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he answers softly, lying down on the bed beside you after he’s pulled his boxers back up. “Was that good?” His voice sounds more worried than he planned to let on, but there’s no taking it back now.

“It was amazing, Jaemin,” you reassure him, and he nods, smiling shyly. 

Jaemin really thinks this could be something special. He’s sure of one thing—he’s definitely booking you at every available opportunity.

“Girl, where are you headed today?” Yuna laughs incredulously as you start packing up your things.

“I have an appointment.” You smile secretively, and Ryujin sits up from her spot on the couch, a skeptical furrow between her brows.

“With that same guy from earlier this week?” She asks, and you nod. “You do realize that he’s booked you literally every day this week, right?”

“Of course I realize that,” you snort in amusement. “More importantly, my bank account realizes that.” 

“You see that guy more times in a week than you do us,” Yuna huffs with a pout, and you mirror her expression sympathetically.

“You’re being dramatic; there’s no way I’ve seen him more than you guys,” you reply, and Yuna rolls her eyes, Ryujin sighing in mild frustration.

“It’s the principle of the thing!” Ryujin exclaims, and you shoot her a look.

“Be for real,” you say flatly. “Think of it like…I work in a diner, and I’m picking up extra shifts.”

“Things must be getting real heated in that diner if he keeps coming back.” Ryujin teases, and you throw the nearest item—a pillow from Yuna’s couch—at her, laughing when it hits its mark.

“You know, he’s actually really good in bed. It’s kind of crazy that he’s single,” you muse thoughtfully. “Besides, sometimes we don’t even have sex.”

“Really?” Ryujin raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Does he ask you to do kinky fetish stuff, like walk on his back in stilettos?” Yuna asks curiously, and you and Ryujin look at her, bewildered.

“Wh—Where did that even come from?” Ryujin laughs.

“You know, I have actually done that before…but, no, not for him.” You wave off Ryujin’s and Yuna’s intrigued spluttering and continue on with, “I mean, sometimes we just…go get coffee, hang out, watch movies.”

“These just sound like paid dates.” Yuna points out, and you shrug.

“I mean, if he’s paying, he can ask me to do damn near anything, really,” you laugh, and Ryujin snickers.

“Well, we won’t hold you up, okay? Go get that bag!” she chirps, and you blink at her slowly.

“…Stop picking up lingo from TikTok,” you say as your final words before you bid them goodbye with a wave and head out of Yuna’s apartment to go meet up with Jaemin.

“Whose pretty pussy is this?” Jaemin coos at you as he fucks into you, your legs over his shoulders as he presses you into the mattress.

“Yours, Jaemin,” you gasp loudly, and he shoots you that winning smile of his, turning his head to kiss your calf.

“No one fucks you like I do,” Jaemin grunts, cupping your chin with one hand and making eye contact with you. There’s an almost crazed look in his eyes, a wild energy that thrills you to your core. “No one could ever treat this pussy as good as I do.”

“No one,” you whimper in agreement, your mind slipping away as he thrusts into you. “Only you, Jaemin.”

“Love this pussy so much,” he mutters almost to himself, biting down on his bottom lip so hard you can see the pink skin of his lips surrounding his bite turning white. “Wanna keep you for myself—you’re all fucking mine.”

“‘M yours,” you mumble, slurring slightly as the pleasure clouds your brain. “Jaemin, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, angel,” he urges, and you fall apart around him without waiting another moment, crying his name out loudly as your nails scratch uselessly at the bedsheets. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans, his head tipping back in ecstasy before his thrusts grow more erratic and finally come to a stop as he releases into the condom, ragged breaths leaving him. 

Jaemin looks down at your figure, bare skin glistening with sweat, your hair all mussed up, and a fucked-out look on your face, and thinks to himself that this must be heaven on Earth, the male never having felt luckier than he does right now.

He pulls out of you carefully, quickly discarding the condom in the bedside trash can, and collapses beside you on the bed, a silence falling over you two as you catch your breath and get your bearings.

As you’re lying there, Ryujin’s and Yuna’s words from earlier come back to you, and a question begins to itch at your throat, begging to be asked. After moments of debating, you bite the bullet and ask.

“Hey, Jaemin?” 

“Yeah?”

“How are you affording all these sessions? Aren’t you, like, a college student?” you ask curiously, and the silence that meets your question has you backtracking immediately. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my business—”

“I don’t mind answering,” Jaemin speaks up, and you turn your head to see that he’s already done the same, brown eyes studying your face. “I have money stashed away in my savings, pretty good credit, and my job doesn’t pay too badly.” he answers, and you nod slowly in understanding.

“I hope you’re not blowing your savings on me,” you chuckle, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the notion of him spending his savings on you.

“Don’t worry about me, angel,” he hums. “Besides,” he continues, nudging you gently with his elbow, “I think you’re worth more than every cent.”

Your face warms up at the compliment and you mumble a bashful thank you. “I just don’t want you to land yourself in hot water because of me.”

“Trust me, angel,” Jaemin assures you, “I’m doing perfectly fine.”

So, Jaemin may have lied a bit.

A lot, actually.

Since meeting you, he’s fully blown through his savings—all $5,000 of it—royally fucked up his credit by maxing out his credit cards, borrowed far too much money from his older brother, and has now resorted to…is this embezzlement? Can you even embezzle a mom-and-pop shop? 

Jaemin has to admit that he feels a bit guilty, Mrs. Kim’s kind face flashing in his mind as he pockets several bills from the cash register. 

But it’s you, with those eyes, and that smile, and that laugh, and it’s you, with that sweet voice and the way you say his name, and—

It’s you.

And Jaemin would do anything for you. Even if it means making some fiscally irresponsible choices and committing a few reprehensible actions, he thinks as he navigates your booking website expertly and schedules another meeting with you for tomorrow afternoon. 

Maybe, Jaemin thinks, he’ll take you shopping. He saw you eying a pretty silver bracelet in the window of a jewelry shop when you were walking around together the other day. Maybe he’ll get it for you as a gift.

The first time was an accident. Or at least that’s what Jaemin’s going with.

When he left the hotel room he’d rented for you two, he didn’t expect to see you still in the lobby, the picture of perfection as you look down at your phone, tapping at the screen. 

Jaemin conceals himself behind a passing bellhop and his cart when you lift your head up to look around, and it’s almost like a magnet pulls him after you when you exit the building. He makes sure to keep you at a distance, not wanting you to catch him watching you.

Jaemin watches as you walk down the street, slowly following after you. You’re so sweet, so innocent…so unaware.

Someone could just snatch you up and have you at their mercy in a second. 

So he’s protecting you. Or, at least, that’s what he’s going with.

Jaemin “protects” you on your walk, not even sure where you’re headed, but when he watches you fish out a set of keys and enter an apartment building, his body lights up with a thrill. 

You’re heading home. 

Jaemin very tentatively follows you into the large building and practically collapses with relief when you go to the mailboxes and take your mail out. He doesn’t find a way to justify following you up to your apartment, so he just…waits until the doors close on the elevator and walks over to your mailbox, looking at the unit number.

“Found you,” He sighs dreamily. If he inhales deeply enough, he can still smell your light fragrance in the air.

Now, the first time was an accident. The second time was a coincidence. 

The third, fourth, and fifth times were anything but. 

Jaemin follows you home after every single meeting you two have, evading detection every time. He swears up and down he’s protecting you, making sure no harm befalls you as you travel back to your place.

Sometimes, however, he catches himself entangled in a dark fantasy consisting of you and him and the lovely element of surprise and he can’t help but think that maybe he’s exactly who you would need protection from.

But he’s different, Jaemin thinks. He cares about you. He adores you. He…he loves you.

Plus, you make it too easy, he thinks. Never straying from your usual route home, never sparing a glance over your shoulder; it’s almost like you know he’s watching. Like you know he’s following your every move.

It’s almost like…you want him to follow you. Want him to engage in a little game of cat-and-mouse as he follows you—his prey—back to your place of safety and lies in wait to pounce. 

You’re playing with him, Jaemin thinks, because you must have feelings for him too. Hell, you might even love him back.

Jaemin makes up his mind the eighth time he follows you home; nothing is going to stop him from being with you.

“Huh.” You pause when you step out of the elevator, the doors quietly shutting behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin asks, attempting to follow your gaze. “Oh, you have a package!”

“I don’t remember ordering anything, though,” you mumble, heading down the hallway to your front door. You check the package and sure enough, your first name is written on the small box.

“Well, are you gonna take it?” Ryujin watches you turn the package around in your hand.

“I mean…yeah, I guess.” You agree slowly, unlocking your door and heading into your apartment, Ryujin following after you. You set your bag down and immediately turn your attention to the package in your hand. You carefully and gingerly open the brown paper wrapping to reveal a small white box. You take the top off, revealing its interior, and gasp.

“What is it?” Ryujin asks, by your side in a moment as she looks into the box. “Holy shit.”

“Right?”

“That bracelet is beautiful,” Ryujin stammers, “not to mention how expensive it looks.”

You carefully take the silver tennis bracelet out of the box’s protective foam and stare at it in wonder. “It looks so familiar.”

“Put it on!” Ryujin encourages you with a nudge, and you nod dumbly, letting her fasten it around your wrist. You stare down at it in bewilderment, still having a hard time processing. “It looks so pretty on you,” she compliments, and you nod distractedly. It looks so familiar around your wrist—almost like you’ve worn it before. Your mind flashes with a memory and you freeze, staring down at the bracelet with wide eyes.

“Oh, my God.” You remember where you’ve seen it.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin presses, looking from the bracelet to you.

You drop the box and step back from it as if it might bite you.

“I saw this during one of my appointments with Jaemin. We went to a jewelry store.” you recall slowly, apprehension trickling down your spine like ice cold water.

“Oh, okay! Why are you so nervous—wait a minute.” Ryujin goes still, and you nod encouragingly, hoping she makes the same deduction you just have.

“Do you think Jaemin bought it for you?” she asks, and you nod again, raising your eyebrows for emphasis. “But how did he get it—to your—oh, what the fuck—”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” you exclaim, and Ryujin waves her hands around as she silently tries to make sense of everything. “Does he—does he fucking know where I live or something?”

“How would he know where you live?” Ryujin asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know, but it got here somehow!” you whisper-yell, and she nods, her gaze drifting from your panicked eyes to the floor.

“There’s a note,” she points out, and you follow her gaze to the small slip of paper sticking out from under the foam in the box. You stoop to pick it up and blink down at the note.

“It’s just a heart,” you mutter, and Ryujin purses her lips thoughtfully.

“Damn. Was kinda hoping it’d have some sort of identifying information,” she mumbles, and you sigh.

“Me too,” you grumble, your mood souring. “Maybe,” you say hesitantly, “I should stop seeing Jaemin so much.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Ryujin agrees, “at least until you figure out what’s going on.” 

You sigh in resignation. “Yeah. I hope this doesn’t end up blowing up in my face.”

Something is off. 

Jaemin hasn’t seen you or spoken to you in eight consecutive days. When he looks at your booking website, your usual appointment slots are grayed out and unclickable. Every time he gets close to scheduling an appointment, it’s miraculously canceled and his money refunded, stating that there was a schedule conflict.

If that wasn’t enough, Jaemin has been attending your lives, and you haven’t given him any attention at all. He knows lives probably get overwhelming, especially when you have a large audience, but he doesn’t even get more than a thank you and a smile—a polite one, not the smile he’s come to adore—when he tips you.

He has no idea what’s going on, but his mind is reeling with possibilities, each more disastrous than the last.

You could be ignoring him. Avoiding him, possibly. 

You could be scheduling with other people. Letting other clients touch what’s his.

Jaemin bristles with anger. The thought of another person’s hands on you, their name leaving your lips in a moan of pleasure, your beautiful smile directed at someone that’s not him drives him into a fit of rage.

Thoughts and images of you with another person flash in his mind, tormenting him, and he clutches his head, pressing his fingers into his skin as hard as possible to offset the emotional pain he’s feeling with a more manageable physical pain.

You can’t be with anyone else. Jaemin loves you. He fucking loves you. He would do anything for you; he’s landed himself in financial hot water tipping you and booking appointments with you, he’s completely fucked academically from skipping classes and not turning in assignments in his attempt to spend as much time with you as possible, and this is how you treat him? Do you even care about him?

Jaemin cannot fucking breathe. He places a panicked hand over his heaving chest and struggles to regulate his inhales and exhales as he tries to calm himself down. His chest feels tight, constricted as he pants and he can feel his racing heartbeat pounding in his ears as his world caves in around him.

No, Jaemin thinks, that’s not possible. You wouldn’t do that to him. Not with what you two have together. 

Maybe it’s just a simple misunderstanding. Maybe you’re taking a break from in-person sessions for a bit. 

Repeating the words in his head like a mantra, Jaemin can finally breathe again.

He misses you, though. Thankfully you’re going live tonight, and he can see you that way.

Sure enough, you go live at midnight like clockwork, a vision in a pretty pale blue dress, and Jaemin feels his heart swelling at the sight of you. A glance at your wrists has his heart about to burst with joy; you’re wearing the bracelet he bought you.

“Hi, everybody,” you greet sweetly, waving at the camera. “How is everyone feeling tonight?” 

Responses start coming in the chat and Jaemin just sits back, waiting for a lull so he can send his message and not have it swept up in the flurry of rapidly incoming messages and ultimately ignored.

As he expected, the replies taper off in a moment, and he sends his message.

NaJaem13: lonely. bored.

He watches your eyes scan the replies as you respond to individual users, his heart rate picking up in excitement when you read the response right above his. 

“Sorry to hear you’re bored, NaJaem13,” you hum softly, and hearing your voice say his name—well, part of it—and watching your lips shape the syllables has his heart soaring. “Hopefully I can change that!” 

He tips you 100 tokens, and the smile on your lips as you thank him is more than worth it.

NiceGuy19: r u seeing anyone? boyfriend, girlfriend, etc

You read the question out hesitantly, and Jaemin’s chest swells with pride as he’s confident you’ll allude to what you two have going on—

“No, NiceGuy19, I am very much single.” You smile, the expression not quite reaching your eyes, and Jaemin freezes.

You’re single? What the fuck?

Loverboy01: haha so i have a chance

You let out a small laugh at the comment as you read it aloud before giving a small nod. “You do,” you agree. 

Jaemin’s eye twitches. Maybe you’re keeping what you two have private…out of respect for the relationship. There’s only one problem with that.

Jaemin doesn’t want you to keep it private. As a matter of fact, Jaemin’s not so sure he wants to share you with anyone anymore.

His fingers trace along the trackpad, a few clicks, and he’s booking you for a private show. There’s a moment in which nothing happens, Jaemin waiting with bated breath for you to accept.

Your eyes drift away from the camera, looking distracted for a split second, and Jaemin smiles.

You saw his request.

You clear your throat and click something before fixing your hair slightly and continuing to read comments. A window pops up on Jaemin’s screen and he reads it eagerly.

PL4YG1RL is not available for a private show at this time.

Jaemin’s smile drops. 

You saw his request…and declined it. There goes that tightening in his chest, that feeling of his throat closing up, and he can’t contain his frustration.

He has to talk to you; he has to see you in person and get an explanation for all of this. He’ll wait until your live is over, then he’ll go see you and figure out what’s going on because, honestly, Jaemin feels like his heart’s about to split into two.

You’re startled awake by three insistent knocks on your front door, not expecting any visitors at this hour. 

What even is “this hour,” anyway? What time is it? 

You look over at your clock on your dresser and your eyes widen at the displayed time of 4:17 that blinks back at you.

Who the hell could be knocking on the door at this hour?

You get out of bed, donning the robe on the back of your bedroom door and wrapping the fabric around your body, and make your way to your front door as three more knocks sound out.

You peek through the peephole and your blood runs cold at the sight of Jaemin standing there, an unmistakable frown on his face.

You open the door and stare at him in disbelief, saying nothing. His eyes widen when he sees you and he sighs in relief, a smile beginning to curl his lips.

“You answered,” he exhales. 

“Jaemin?” You ask carefully, and his smile slowly drops in favor of a distressed expression as he starts to speak.

“I saw your live tonight and—”

“Jaemin?” 

“You said you weren’t seeing anyone—”

“Jaemin.” 

“You’ve been avoiding me too, I know you saw my private show request—”

You just blink at him, in disbelief.

“What about all the time we’ve spent together?” He looks like he wants to say more, but holds his tongue at the last moment. Looking into his eyes chills you to your core; past the hurt swimming in his dark irises, there’s something desperate and unnerving about his gaze. You don’t miss the way his eyes rove over your figure with an unmistakable hunger, his gaze no longer exciting you like it did before. Now, you feel vulnerable, wanting to shift your weight to your other foot but not wanting to show your discomfort.

“Are you done now?” You ask slowly.

He nods.

“Jaemin,” you say, making sure to keep your voice level, “how do you know where I live?”

He balks at your question, only worsening your nerves as you swallow what feels like a thick lump in your throat.

“What about us?” he croaks out, and you can’t hide your incredulity quickly enough.

“Jaemin,” you sigh, “there isn’t anything going on between us.” Jaemin flinches like you’ve slapped him, eyes wide and wounded. “I do this for a living.”

“What about that time I asked if I could see you again and you said that it was ‘up to me,’ with that teasing little smile?” he presses, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, breathing deeply.

“I meant that literally.” you explain, in awe at how far away from reality his mind has carried him. “If you wanted to see me again, you would have to book me.”

“But—I—I love you,” he confesses, stepping closer to you. He doesn’t miss the way you step back slightly, shrinking further into the safety of your apartment.

“Jaemin, I’m so sorry, but…” you say sincerely, feeling bad for him despite your apprehension about the whole situation. “I don’t feel that way about you.”

The way his face crumples into devastation has you wincing internally, your sympathetic nature pushing forward as you struggle with whether or not to comfort him. He hangs his head for a second and you look away to give him some privacy. 

You remember, taking in his broad frame and how it practically fills up your doorway, that he never did mention how he found out where you live, and you slowly tense up again, also recalling how he’d blatantly dodged the question.

Just as fear trickles down your spine as you realize Jaemin knows far more about you than you’re comfortable with, he sucks in a ragged breath and jolts you out of your thoughts. You look back at his face and he slowly lifts his head, revealing an expression so deeply hollow that you wish you’d never looked in the first place, let alone answered the door. 

You’re regretting every interaction you’ve had with Jaemin, frankly, because clearly he’s gotten the wrong idea, and now this emotionless, dead-eyed man in your doorway is honestly scaring the fuck out of you.

He sniffs once and when he speaks, his voice is every bit as flat and hollow as his face, completely impassive. “So you don’t feel anything towards me.” 

You hesitate, nibbling your bottom lip nervously as you try to smooth the situation over. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and you can feel your heartbeat pick up in pace as he stares you down with growing impatience.

“No,” you finally eke out, and he sighs, anger briefly flashing on his face before the hollow look returns, only to be replaced with a dazzling smile that doesn’t reach your eyes as he nods in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

He holds a hand up to silence you, nodding in understanding. “It’s alright.”

“Are…we done here?” You ask tentatively, not trusting your voice to conceal the tremble past a whisper.

“Yeah.” He smiles, waving you off dismissively. “Have a good night.” 

“You too.” You wave cautiously, and he starts walking away from your apartment. You watch as he calls the elevator and gets in, waiting for the doors to slide shut before you practically collapse in relief, quickly closing your front door, locking both locks, and leaning against the door as you try to control your racing heart.

You’ve never seen Jaemin’s smile so void of any sincerity—it looked more like he was baring his teeth at you than actually smiling. Reality sets in, crushing your shoulders as you come to terms with two unnerving truths.

The first truth being that Jaemin knows where you live.

The second being that you didn’t tell him.

You’re heading out to the grocery store from Ryujin’s apartment, having decided to stay with her for a while until you feel safe returning home to your place. 

Looking into your purse for your shopping list, you hear footsteps behind you, your senses lighting up in panic, and you whip your head around to look behind you only to see a woman and her child walking past you. She shoots you a friendly smile, and you return it, relief coursing through you. 

“You’re being paranoid,” you mumble to yourself, grabbing the shopping list and looking it over briefly. As you walk to the store, you can’t help but notice the sense of danger your body’s picking up on. 

Something feels off, and you don’t know what it is.

Now jumpy with nerves, you pick up your pace, glancing over your shoulder periodically as you practically speed walk to the store. 

The first glance, you see nothing but the road behind you.

A car pulls up behind you and you whirl around, but the car pulls up to the curb and parks. A breath of relief escapes you, and you keep walking.

The third glance behind you rewards you with nothing, and at this point you’re pretty sure you’re jumpy for no reason, half-chuckling to yourself. 

Almost out of habit now, you look over your shoulder for a fourth time, still finding no one, and you turn forward only to collide with someone’s chest, apologies immediately spilling out from your lips.

“So sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” you stammer as you steady yourself, and the chuckle you hear makes you freeze, your heart gripped with terror.

You know that chuckle.

You look up in a panic, a loud gasp escaping you at the sight of Jaemin’s wide smile. He doesn’t stand still for long, swiftly moving behind you and clamping a rag over your mouth and nose as you wriggle in panic, letting out muffled shrieks and screams. 

Your mind races—how could he get away with this in the middle of the day? Where is everyone?—and whatever’s on the rag fills your lungs with every panicked inhale you suck in. 

Hold your breath. Fight back.

You reach to claw at Jaemin’s arms, but his jacket sleeves block your every move. As he holds the rag to your face, he works to lock your arms behind your back, his actions hindered by your defensive attacks as you reach behind you, praying your nails can make contact with his face, neck, something—

One of your blind swipes collides with the side of his face, a low grunt leaving him, and you move to hit him again, this time aiming with your nails— 

You can’t hold your breath any longer, adrenaline coursing through you and making your breathing pick up.

The rag is soaking wet, the smell of the liquid slightly sweet as it drips down your neck and onto your shirt. Jaemin dodges your attacks directed at his face and manages to catch one of your wrists, aided by the rag over your mouth which makes every one of your limbs feel like it’s filled with wet sand.

Your free hand drops uselessly to your side, and Jaemin grabs it, a faint sound of metal clinking before cool metal rings—handcuffs?—close around your wrists.

The fabric of the rag is coarse against your face, and it’s one of the last things you can focus on as you feel your composure slipping away, your muscles going slack, eyes drooping shut—

“You should be more careful,” Jaemin murmurs, starting to drag your limp body with him. As your mind finally slips away, your body losing its fight, the last thing you hear is a chuckle from Jaemin, the sound far more sinister than earlier, and his final words. 

“You could get hurt.”

When you open your eyes, you see a white ceiling. 

A look to the left of you, and you see a window, moonlight painting the floor in streaks.

To your right, you see a mahogany dresser, a matching nightstand, and a door, cracked open to reveal an en suite bathroom.

Your mind is swimming as you try to piece together everything going on—you were walking to the store—you ran into someone—Jaemin, you ran into Jaemin. You remember something cold, wet, and sweet on your face—and then, nothing. 

Your arms and shoulders ache, and you wiggle your fingers experimentally, numb digits digging into your lower back—are those handcuffs? 

Panic sets in as you realize that you’ve been abducted—in the middle of the day, no less—and you have no idea what’s going on.

What does Jaemin want with you? 

Where are you? What time is it?

Has Ryujin noticed that you’re gone? Is she looking for you, perhaps?

Hell, can she even find you?

How the hell are you going to get out of—

“You’re awake,” Jaemin’s voice from out of nowhere makes you yelp, your eyes darting around to find him until you look straight ahead to see him standing in the doorway. 

“You fought back more than I expected,” he hums thoughtfully, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, people don’t tend to like being chloroformed and dragged away.” You can’t help but be bitter and, really, who could blame you?

“You made it difficult,” he defends himself, frowning. You stare at him incredulously, saying nothing. “Hiding at your friend’s house—do you know how confused I was when you weren’t coming into or out of your building?” 

“You waited outside of my building? How did you find out where I live?”

“I may have followed you home a couple of times,” he admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You—a couple of times—oh, my God. Did you send this bracelet?” you splutter, shaking your wrist holding the piece of jewelry.

“I did,” he announces proudly. “And you’re wearing it; it looks so beautiful on you.”

“Jaemin,” you say slowly, “what was the purpose of kidnapping me? What do you want?”

Jaemin frowns. “I just want us to be together.”

“Jaemin, how many times do I have to tell you that all of our interactions were because of my job?” you complain, yanking uselessly at the handcuffs binding your wrists. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”

“You will.” His reply is simple but unnerving in its simplicity. He leans over you and unlocks the handcuffs restraining you, smiling when you tentatively rub your wrists. “Better?”

“W-Why did you do that?” you ask, half-hoping he’s had a moment of guilty conscience, but his response chills you to the bone.

“I want you to struggle.” 

The worst part is how bright his eyes are when he says it. He’s eyeing you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, his gaze dropping to scan your body for an uncomfortably long moment, before he looks back up at you, his gaze now hungry and desiring.

“Jaemin—Jaemin, please, you don’t have to—” You stammer, scooting back against the headboard as he moves closer to you with his head cocked curiously.

“I know, angel,” he replies, leaning closer with a widening grin when you have nowhere to go. He wraps his fingers around your ankle and yanks you—hard—so you’re pulled closer to him. “I want to.”

“Jaemin—” Your voice cracks as tears sting your eyes. “I don’t want—”

“You will,” he shushes you, having the audacity to sound comforting. “It’s gonna feel so good,” he purrs, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling the zipper down. He peels your jeans down and off your legs painstakingly slowly, the sound of the garment hitting the floor making you flinch. “So jumpy,” he snickers, and you have half a mind to send your knee crashing into his jaw. 

You refrain because, ultimately, it won’t do anything besides make him angry. Even if you managed to run away, you have no idea where you are and he’d probably catch you before you had a chance to get your bearings.

“Screw you,” you spit out instead, and Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows with a suggestive grin.

“You will.” He stares you down with darkened eyes, evoking a shudder from deep within your body. The corners of his lips quirk upwards in a smug grin, and he slides his hands up your bare legs, slowly parting your thighs with ease even though you fight to keep them closed. “Let’s play a game,” Jaemin hums excitedly. “We’re going to play together for a bit and then we’re going to take these,” he muses, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin and relishing the way you jolt, “off. If your body likes what I’m doing to it, we’re going to keep playing.”

“Oh, God,” you whimper, closing your eyes tightly. Jaemin’s hand cups your chin hard and he shakes your head from side to side roughly, forcing you to look at him with an affronted glare.

“Look at me.” Jaemin demands, his eyes hard as he arches a brow in warning. You balk under his stern gaze. “Don’t look away from me. Understand?”

You nod tentatively. Jaemin smiles, the disapproval from earlier gone without a trace.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises you warmly, and your stomach curls in disgust.

He’s sick. He’s lost his fucking mind.

You watch Jaemin cautiously as he moves to sit beside you on the bed, propping his back up against the headboard. He pulls you until you’re straddling his lap, your face burning with shame as you struggle to keep your eyes on him like he ordered.

His hands glide and down up your sides and he squeezes your hips with a low groan, guiding your movements so you’re rocking back and forth on his lap, your clit occasionally rubbing against his clothed erection through the thin fabric of your underwear and the thicker fabric of his sweats.

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” Jaemin coos sweetly against your lips, pushing forward to kiss you. It takes everything in you not to bite his lip or his tongue when he pushes it into your mouth. “Kiss me like you mean it.” His voice is still light, but the warning in his tone is evident, and you whimper in defeat when he swirls his tongue around yours, pulling it back only to suck on your tongue. 

He’s drawing all your attention to your mouth and your core as he stimulates both, leaving you so disoriented that you don’t even notice one hand sneaking up your shirt until his cold fingers graze your stomach, making you jolt away from his touch.

“So cute,” he mumbles fondly into the kiss, and you could almost swear you feel bile rising in your throat. 

You’re not sure if you’re angrier with him or with yourself as your body reacts to the sensations of Jaemin kissing down to your neck and sucking at the sensitive skin there. It’s hardly your fault, you think—Jaemin’s advantage is that he already knows how to please you, and you’re defenseless against his touch.

His hand under your shirt slips to your back and unclasps your bra, returning to the front and worming its way under the lacy fabric to pinch your nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. You jerk away from him, and his free hand clutches the back of your neck, his iron-clad grip pinning you in place. He pulls back from your neck to shoot you a warning glare that chills your blood before slowly returning his lips to your skin, sucking and licking as he traces circles around your stiffening peak.

His lips trail kisses, hot and wet, down your neck to your collarbones and both hands tug your shirt over your head, discarding it to the side and returning to your body to cup your breasts. You flinch at his touch, Jaemin chuckling with sadistic amusement before groping your breasts freely, tugging and squeezing your nipples until you let out defeated moans of pleasure.

His lips kiss lower and lower still until he’s leaning you back so he can angle himself forward to envelop your nipple in his mouth. The sucking sensation is regrettably arousing and it takes all of your focus and willpower not to make any noises. Your hands push at his toned chest, firm muscles unyielding under your touch, and Jaemin just laughs, the vibrations sending another pang of pleasure down between your legs. 

Your pushing grows more and more determined until you actually manage to push hard enough to detach his mouth from your chest. Jaemin, it seems, grows tired of your retaliation and forces your hands behind you, gripping your wrists in one large hand and pushing them into the small of your back so you’re forced into a deeper arch. He nuzzles in the space between your breasts and leaves sloppy kisses along the skin there before moving to swirl his tongue around your nipple, flicking it with the tip and grinning when you inhale abruptly, your breath hitching when he nips at the bud with his teeth.

He alternates between your breasts, kissing, sucking, and licking to his heart’s content as you whimper in protest, incapable of wriggling away from his mouth. 

After a moment of Jaemin’s relentless mouth on your nipples, he looks up at you, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and reconnects your lips, squeezing your wrists together hard when you refuse to part your lips for his tongue.

He smacks your ass once, the flesh stinging from the impact, and you yelp in pain, Jaemin’s tongue slipping into your unprotected mouth and playing with yours languidly, leisurely, like he has all the time in the world.

“You know,” he mumbles, still kissing you, “what I want?” When you don’t answer, he sighs, almost in disappointment, and smacks your ass again, ignoring your pained cry. “Answer me.”

“What,” you mutter bitterly through gritted teeth, “do you want, Jaemin?”

“I want…to feel you ride my lap,” he answers with a wicked grin, and you groan in complaint as he grabs at your hip with his free hand and guides you into a repetitive rocking motion against his clothed cock, which you can feel hardening with every drag of your hips.

His lips attach themselves to your neck, his hand leaving your hip and massaging your breasts, flicking at your nipples lightly. Your movements halt almost instantly, and he raises an eyebrow up at you expectantly, looking pointedly at where your bodies meet.

When you stubbornly refuse to move, his gaze hardens and he grips your jaw, squeezing hard enough to evoke a whimper from you.

“Keep. Moving.”

You two stare each other down for a moment and Jaemin raises both eyebrows as if to say, “is that so?” You falter at the thought of whatever punishment he has in mind and slowly resume your grinding motions, averting your gaze. It feels like your soul withers when you hear his satisfied hum and his lips return to your skin, kissing and sucking at where your neck and shoulder meet.

His head lolls back for a moment, eyes shutting as he lets out a low groan of bliss, and your movements start to slow again as you feel the insuppressible tugging sensation of pleasure in the pit of your belly.

He opens his eyes to stare at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, silently ordering you to keep moving, and you start to panic, knowing all too well that when he goes to check if you’re wet, he’s going to see that you irrefutably are.

“Jaemin, can we please stop—”

“No.”

“But—but I’m gonna c—” 

“Of course you are.” Jaemin speaks to you slowly, as if you’re stupid. “What do you think the point of this was?”

Your heart falls at your realization that he probably intended to make you climax this whole time, rigging the “game” he’d set up. You can’t help but feel stupid for not knowing that this was his plan the whole time; he kidnapped you and you really expected him to keep his word?

His lips drag you out of your spiral of hopelessness when they drag against the spot just behind your ear, and you keen desperately, wishing for anything at all to save you from this.

Of course, no such miracle comes, and your body curls in on itself as you climax, your hips bucking against his lap. You bite your lip so hard to keep from moaning that you’re surprised you don’t bleed, but Jaemin’s gleefully satisfied expression is every bit as disappointing as any noise you could have made.

He waits until your body has calmed down from your climax, watching with fascination as you both succumb to the pleasure and try with all your might to ignore it, to speak.

“You know, I think we’ve been playing for long enough,” Jaemin hums, snaking a hand between your bodies and inching it painfully slowly down your stomach.

He’s prolonging the inevitable just to torture you, and you sigh in resignation, the sound catching in your throat as you hold back defeated tears.

After what feels like ages, his hand finally reaches its destination, long fingers stroking over the damp spot of your underwear as he gasps ostentatiously. “What’s this?” His eyes flicker between his hand between your legs and your face with a devilish grin, and you let out a broken whimper.

“Nothing,” you lie, and he raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, yeah?” He slips his fingers into your underwear and you reluctantly hiss at the sensation, angling your hips away from him. “Doesn’t feel like nothing,” he teases, grinning as he strokes along your slick folds. 

You move to argue, but he presses his lips to yours, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth even as you whine in protest. Jaemin grins against your lips as he withdraws his fingers from your underwear and displays them to you proudly, the digits glistening with your arousal.

“Looks like we get to keep playing, angel,” he murmurs, and your heart falls. “C’mere,” he urges you, dragging your reluctant body off his lap and lying you down on the bed on your back. 

“Jaemin, please? Please don’t—oh, God—” you stammer as he parts your legs, reflexively clamping them shut again, and Jaemin raises an eyebrow in warning.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” His voice is low and threatening, and a chill runs down your spine as his grip on your knee tightens noticeably and his eyes lose the playful glint. When you relax your muscles, Jaemin smiles brightly and spreads your legs apart. “Good girl. Now relax,” he purrs, running his hands up your inner thighs and chuckling at the tremor of revulsion that travels through your body, “Nana just wants a taste.”

He pulls your underwear down and off your legs painfully slowly, as if he’s rubbing the moment in your face, and you can’t help but let out a choked sob of defeat, wanting so badly to look away but fearing his reaction if you do.

“Sound so pretty when you cry,” Jaemin coos, spreading your legs wider once the thin garment covering your core is tossed carelessly onto the floor. He tucks himself between your legs, and you inch away from him as subtly as possible, crying out when he wraps one muscular arm over your hips and yanks you towards his mouth with ease. “Don’t run from me.”

You’ve been holding back tears for so long, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but when he leans down and his tongue makes contact with your core, the dam breaks—tears, hot and fat and wet, trail down your cheeks, and you can’t help but sniffle pathetically.

“That’s it, just let it happen, angel,” Jaemin hums, licking up your folds, his tongue collecting your arousal, and he looks you directly in the eyes when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud and flicking it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. “Taste so fucking good…and it’s all for me.”

His tongue flicks and swirls around your clit languidly and your core drips arousal as he teases his fingers at your entrance, pushing two in slowly to the first knuckle, and you cover your face in an attempt to muffle the reluctant moan of pleasure that slips out from his attentive actions.

“Come on, Playgirl,” Jaemin taunts, “I wanna hear you moan like you did all those other times we’ve been together.” He pushes his fingers into you and you gasp, one hand leaving your face to clutch at the bedsheets, and you shake your head vigorously.

“Jaemin, that was my job,” you desperately explain, but your futile attempt to save yourself falls on unsympathetic ears, and he looks up from between your legs, his lips glistening with a mix of his saliva and your wetness.

“Well, now your job is to convince me to let you live.” He raises both eyebrows as he regards you, but an ice cold panic takes over your whole body at his words. 

Would he seriously try to kill you? 

You don’t even notice how your breathing has picked up until your chest is heaving with panic and Jaemin reaches up, pressing between your breasts to flatten you to the bed.

“Relax,” he sighs, “I won’t hurt you if you’re good for me.” He watches you intently as resignation settles in your chest, cold and heavy, before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Good girl,” he praises. He returns his attention to your core, curling his fingers inside of you and pumping them in and out of you as he wraps his lips around your clit and hums contently, sending vibrations through the sensitive bud and making your back arch.

A moan forces its way out of your lips, your face burning with shame as you feel your body succumbing to the pleasure. 

“It feels good, yeah?” Jaemin asks, continuing when you don’t respond, “I know it feels good,” he coos teasingly, “because your pussy keeps clenching around my fingers.”

You refrain from swearing at him, instead shuddering with unwanted pleasure when he angles his fingers just right and his fingertips press into your g-spot, and Jaemin’s eyes light up with glee.

“Gotcha,” he mumbles, a triumphant grin on his face as he thrusts his fingers into you, repeatedly stimulating your most sensitive spot along your inner walls, and moans spill from your lips uncontrollably, the pleasure too much to bear.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, angel?” Jaemin asks with a smug grin, and you shake your head vigorously even as your eyes roll back into your head and your back arches off of the bed with another skillful thrust of his fingers. “Yes, you are,” he says, ignoring your denial and reattaching his mouth to your core, rapidly flicking your clit with his tongue. 

To your dismay, you are about to cum, your impending orgasm building up in your stomach even as you desperately try to will it away. Broken pants escape you as the pleasure grows, and when you finally climax, you whimper loudly, your eyes shutting tightly as fat tears force their way out and down your temples to melt into the pillow under your head.

“That’s a good girl.” Jaemin presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs, his lips traveling higher up your body until they’re pressing against yours forcefully, the taste of your arousal on his tongue as it slips between your lips. His kiss is all-consuming, Jaemin emitting grunts and pants of desire while his hand reaches between you two. After a moment passes of his hand not touching you, you move to break the kiss in confusion, only to feel the head of his cock rubbing up and down your folds, collecting your arousal.

“Jaemin—no—fuck, Jaemin, please—” you plead, putting all your strength into pushing him away from you. His eyes light up with excitement at the new challenge you’ve presented and he swats your hands away with ease as you push and shove at his chest, a growing smile on his face as you push yourself out from under him, scooting up towards the headboard.

“That’s it, angel,” he coaxes you, nodding encouragingly as you push his shoulders to get him away from you. “Push a little harder, yeah, just like that.” He’s coaching you through fighting him off, you realize, and what little hope you may have had all but drains from you as you let out a choked sob and close your legs as tightly as you can. 

“Jaemin, at least put a condom on—” you manage to get out through panicked breaths, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“Why would I do that?” Jaemin snickers, placing one hand on your leg and forcing his hand between your knees, yanking your legs apart with a grunt and shoving himself between your thighs once more. “I want us to feel every inch of each other, angel.”

Before you can protest again, he tucks your knees to your chest, draping your legs over his shoulders, and drags you back down to him. He pins your arms above your head and coos down at you in mock sympathy as he pushes into you slowly.

“Oh, my God,” you gasp, your body trembling under the weight of your yet-to-be-shed tears. Jaemin bottoms out inside of you with a low, content moan and turns his head to kiss your calf before leaning down to bring his lips to your ear.

“Love filling you up with my cock,” he purrs in your ear and you can only hiccup from the force of trying not to cry. “Does that feel good, hm? Having me fill your tight little pussy up?” When you shake your head vigorously, Jaemin tuts disapprovingly. “Lying isn’t going to help you.”

The worst part of it all, you think, is that it does feel good. He’s been with you enough at this point to know exactly what you like as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, slowly, making sure you feel every single inch and ridge of his length.

He fucks into you slowly but with powerful snaps of his hips, moans falling from your lips whether you like it or not, and he presses your legs against your chest even harder, uncaring about the ache it sends shooting up your legs. 

You can’t even dwell on the discomfort because he keeps driving his hips into yours, fucking you into a stupor that you couldn’t snap out of if you tried.

“I know you love when I fuck you,” he coos, and when you cry out in protest, he just laughs. “Your body won’t lie to me.” He pouts. “I can feel you clenching around me and you’re so fucking wet, I could almost slip out. I bet you’re about to cum already, aren’t you?”

He’s right, unfortunately, and you can only nod and whimper, not sure if you’re asking him to release you or let you finish.

He reaches between you two and massages your clit in quick circles, eyes flashing with triumph when your back arches and you climax with a breathless whine and repeated moans of “No, no, no.”

“Gonna cum, angel,” he pants, his brow furrowing as he speeds up his thrusts. “Gonna fill you up with my cum,” he grunts, and your eyes widen as the fight returns to your system. You writhe under him in an attempt to free yourself, but Jaemin just laughs uncaringly and sits up slightly to grip your squirming hips and push you further into the mattress. 

He’s stronger than you could ever manage to overcome, and his actions render you immobile, your legs still flailing under him as your hands push at his chest.

“Jaemin, don’t cum inside of me,” you plead, bucking your hips uselessly, but he just moans, fucking into you harder.

“Gonna make you mine,” he purrs, his grip on your hips tightening uncomfortably as he ignores your every protest. “All fucking mine.” His thrusts become slower and almost impossibly deeper before he bottoms out in you with a low groan and releases into you, a pleased shudder leaving him as his length throbs within your walls.

All you can do is cry bitterly at how betrayed you feel by your body and how shame burns in you like an inferno, and you cover your face with your hands in resignation, not moving them even when Jaemin attempts to pull them away. 

He sucks his teeth in annoyance and his grip tightens around your wrists as he wrenches your hands from over your face, his lips on yours immediately as he tastes the salt of your tears, a delighted hum rumbling in his throat.

“You’re all mine now, angel,” he breathes into the kiss. “No one’s ever going to separate us.”

“I want to go home,” you whimper, and he shushes you with the demeanor of a comforting lover, despite the truth being far from the situation.

“You are home,” Jaemin coos.

Being abducted is, as you probably could have guessed, a nightmare.

Jaemin has the audacity to be sweet and kind to you by talking to you sweetly, serving you (admittedly) good food, and telling you sweet nothings everyday—while he has you handcuffed to the bed. He lets you wear his clothes, although you suspect that’s more for him than it is for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling generous, he’ll attach one of your handcuffs to a chain so you can roam the room as freely as one can in an eight foot radius.

He hasn’t touched you since the day he abducted you; he says he’ll wait for you to get adjusted this time. He also leaves you alone a startling amount, but you figure that would track for a normal college student; however, nothing about this is normal, so there’s that.

Your chance comes when he leaves you to go to work one day—you think it’s Tuesday, but the days are honestly starting to blur together so you’re not sure—and leaves a drawer open in the nightstand in his haste to get there on time. 

Your cursory peek into it reveals a few unimportant items but one stands out to you. 

A paperclip. 

You don’t know very much about lock picking apart from reading one WikiHow link on it a while ago, and there isn’t a lot of room for trial and error, so you really only have one good shot at it. 

Today Jaemin felt kind enough to use the chain as opposed to handcuffing you to the bedpost, and you thank the universe that you have just enough room to reach the drawer, jostling its contents so the paperclip can slide closer to you.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you mutter anxiously.

The paperclip slides towards your hand and you snatch it immediately, sitting up and bending it into the shape you vaguely remember seeing in the WikiHow article. Unfortunately, your mind blanks after that one step, so you just feed the end of the makeshift lock picker into the keyhole for the handcuffs, carefully twisting it this way and that. 

It takes a grueling amount of time in which you fear the paperclip might break, but the small metal utensil thankfully stays intact the whole time, and you could cry with relief when there’s a click and the pressure on your wrist loosens considerably. 

“Oh, my God,” you half-gasp, half-laugh. You spring to your feet, wobbling slightly as you get acclimated to standing up and moving again. You don’t have much time, you’re sure, so you sneak out of the door and steal down the hallway and stairs, rushing out of the front door and not caring to lock it behind you.

You’re not wearing shoes, clad only in socks, and the concrete of the pavement feels cold and rough under your feet, making it harder to run away as you would have preferred.

You’re walking down the street, praying to see a landmark that helps you get your bearings, when you hear the blip of a police car. 

You’re saved.

You’re running before you even realize it, the impact of your poorly covered soles on the concrete sending sparks of pain up your legs, waving your arms wildly at the car as it approaches, and it slows to a stop, a relieved sob escaping you as you run up to the cop’s window. 

“Officer, please help me—I’ve been kidnapped—I don’t know where I am—I don’t know where to go—” you stammer breathlessly, and the officer raises a hand to silence you, looking at you with curious eyes.

“You’ve been kidnapped?” he murmurs, brows knitting together in a confused sort of surprise. 

You nod vigorously. “His name is Jaemin,” you explain in a rush of words, “Na Jaemin.”

“Okay, let’s head to the precinct and I can get your report there,” the officer explains. He’s got a very handsome face, you can’t help but think. He smiles for the first time, and you feel at ease instantly, his smile kind and warm with two dimples to go with it.

“Okay,” you agree immediately. 

“You have to ride in the back of the cop car,” he explains, stepping out of the vehicle and opening the back door for you. He’s fairly tall, and his badge glints in the sunlight, making it hard for you to read his name. “It’s policy.”

You nod in understanding and get into the backseat, strapping yourself in and scanning the car curiously. There’s a clear divider between the front and backseat and you watch the cop’s side profile as he starts the car and drives off. 

You’ve been riding for a while before you realize.

“Um, officer?”

“Mm?”

“Is this the way to the precinct?” you ask carefully, studying the side of his face for any sign of a tell.

“We’re going exactly where you need to go,” he answers, and you can’t help but notice with an unsettling jolt that he didn’t answer your question. As he speaks, he passes a house you definitely remember passing when you escaped, and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You think frantically about what could be going on, and it hits you all at once.

Jaemin mentioned having a brother. Who’s a cop. You found this officer in the area of Jaemin’s place. 

“Officer, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He doesn’t answer, only heightening your suspicions. The coincidences are too much to let slide, so you quietly reach for the door handle when he pulls up to a red light. There’s a muted click as the door handle fails to open the door, and the officer speaks.

“You can’t open the back doors from the inside.”

Which, yeah, makes sense, but the way he sounds when he says it takes you by surprise. He sounds smug almost, almost teasing.

You sit back quietly, your voice dejected when you speak next. 

“We’re not going to the precinct, are we?” 

“I think you know the answer to that,” he replies easily, and you rest your cheek against the cold window in defeat, trying as hard as you can not to cry; you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

When the car finally rolls to a stop, you look out the window in resignation, your gaze dull and broken when you lock eyes with Jaemin, who’s standing on the sidewalk in front of his house.

“You should lock this one up more carefully next time,” the officer scolds Jaemin lightly, and Jaemin nods with a smile at him before looking at you with a hurt frown. 

“I was being so nice to you,” he complains, and you scoff under your breath, sliding your gaze away from him. He opens your door and, when you don’t move, sighs before he reaches in to unstrap your seatbelt and pull you out of the car. “Oh, by the way, this is my brother Jaehyun.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jaehyun replies dryly, raising his eyebrow at you.

You don’t reply.

“Same mother, different fathers,” Jaemin goes on to explain. “Hence the different last names.”

“Jaemin, I really don’t care,” you say honestly, and he frowns at you.

“Don’t hurt my feelings.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to him, kissing the top of your head. “Thanks, Jaehyun. See you!”

Jaehyun raises two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute before he’s driving off. 

“I think I’m going to have to revoke your roaming privileges.” Jaemin hums with an air of disappointment as he leads you back into the house.

You wish you could revoke his life at this point.

It’s another day being held in Jaemin’s room and you’re lazily watching the television that Jaemin put on for you before going to work, eyes practically glazing over with boredom before you change the channel. It’s harder to reach the remote with your hands zip tied in front of you, but you manage to make it work.

You flip through channels absentmindedly, but stop immediately once you hear your name coming from the screen.

You flip back a couple of channels until you land on the local news, which is in the process of going through your Missing Person report. 

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly, watching as they display a picture of you on screen. “They’re looking for me.”

Your best friends Ryujin and Yuna come on screen next, Yuna in tears and Ryujin looking pissed as she talks to the newscaster.

“She doesn’t just up and disappear, something happened to her, I know it.” Ryujin says vehemently. She looks directly into the camera and you feel goosebumps raise on your body at how determined she looks. “We’re going to find you. Don’t worry.” 

“I love them,” you mumble sadly before sitting up slightly. Knowing that someone is looking for you fills you with hope and a resolve you didn’t have before. 

You’re getting out of here.

You stare down at the zip tie around your wrists and think about how to get out. You bring it to your mouth and start to nibble at the thick plastic, praying this works. Your jaw aches as you work away at the zip tie, but you can feel it starting to separate, giving you more hope.

You have no idea how long you have so you stop nibbling halfway through the tie and sit up as straight as possible, twisting the tie around and yanking your wrists apart forcefully. It takes several tries and you’re just about to give up before you yank one last time with all of the frustration and anger you have in your body and the tie snaps apart. 

“Holy shit,” you sob in relief, quietly moving to get off of the bed before realizing— “fuck, my ankles.”

You can’t reach them to bite through the zip tie so you fiddle with the locking mechanism, pushing the small plastic latch this way and that with your fingernail until it gives way and loosens enough for you to slip out.

You look around for shoes, not about to make the same mistake as last time, and finally find them under the bed, slipping them on as quietly as possible and heading out of the door and down the stairs.

You’re almost out, freedom just out of reach, when keys jingle in the lock of the front door and you freeze for a moment before running to the hallway closet and hiding in it, holding your breath for dear life amongst coats and various household items. You peek through the slots and fear seizes your heart when you see Jaehyun walk past the closet and up to the second landing.

You don’t waste any time, immediately slipping out of the closet just in time to hear Jaehyun swear loudly, footsteps thundering down the stairs, and the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking has you panicking as you rush towards the front door.

“Don’t…move.” Jaehyun’s voice sounds out from behind you, and you turn slowly to face him. He’s got the gun pointed directly at your chest and your eyes widen and your breathing picks up as you realize the very real possibility that you might get killed. “Jaemin picked a difficult one, I see.”

“Jaemin wouldn’t want me dead,” you say desperately, shifting in panic each time Jaehyun moves to the side, not even realizing that he’s been slowly and subtly maneuvering you both so he’s blocking the front door and you’re forced further into the house.

“Jaemin wouldn’t mind you incapacitated.” Jaehyun points out, instead aiming the gun at your knee. 

“Please don’t,” you beg, tears welling up in your eyes, and he raises one eyebrow skeptically.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Why are you helping him, anyway? You’re a cop; surely you know they’ve been looking for me.”

“He’s my brother,” Jaehyun answers your question like you’re stupid and you hide the way it makes you bristle with anger. “He makes dumb choices, yeah, but having his back is what family’s for.”

“I have a family, too,” you sniffle, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I really don’t care.”

Jaehyun’s face is frighteningly emotionless as he points the gun at your leg. You’ve got nowhere to run, and your hope is almost entirely snuffed out. You close your eyes and wait for the unimaginable pain to come with a bullet to the leg.

You flinch violently at the loud thud that startles you, and snap your eyes open at the familiar grunt, praying you’re not imagining things. Could it really be—?

Sure enough, Jaehyun is staggering from Ryujin’s powerful blow to the back of his head with a baseball bat. His grip on the gun slips and it hits the floor, making you flinch yet again as you pray it doesn’t go off. You dive for the gun at the same time Jaehyun does, but Ryujin kicks him hard in the side, the larger male groaning loudly in pain as one hand goes to clutch his side. You take the opportunity and snatch the gun off of the floor, quickly clambering to your feet and aiming the gun at his pained form on the floor.

“If you even think about moving, I will blow your fucking brains out.” You seethe, holding the gun with both hands and, truthfully, you’re surprised you’re not shaking, chalking it up to the shock and adrenaline.

“You don’t know how to shoot a gun.” Jaehyun sneers at you and you just smile, aiming at the wall behind him and pulling the trigger. The gun jerks back in your hand as a bullet tears a small hole through the wall, and Jaehyun’s face goes gray, much to your satisfaction.

“I’m sure I can figure it out.” You smile humorlessly down at him and you watch as he swallows thickly. “We’re going to leave now. I’m going to keep this gun. And if I ever see you again—I don’t care if it’s at the goddamn supermarket—I will put a bullet through your thick ass skull,” you promise, your voice low and trembling with poorly restrained rage (and fear—definitely fear). 

Jaehyun’s furious yet dead-set gaze on you is beyond unnerving, but you shake off the jitters as best you can.

You and Ryujin slowly inch towards the door, never moving your eyes away from Jaehyun, and right as Ryujin inches by him, he lunges for her ankle, making her jump away in surprise and barely get away. You and Ryujin both scream and you point the gun at his legs, not even thinking before you pull the trigger.

A loud gunshot rings out, your hands jerking back once more from the gun’s recoil, and Jaehyun practically roars in pain, grabbing his wounded thigh and squeezing hard in an attempt to slow the blood loss.

“I hope I hit a fucking artery.” You spit, taking the opportunity while both of Jaehyun’s hands are busy to lurch forward and kick him in the side as hard as you can.

“Fuck—you fucking bitch—” Jaehyun’s words come out in pained gasps as he grasps his side with one bloodied hand, gritting his teeth in agony, and you and Ryujin make a run for it. You’re in absolute shock and disbelief as you stumble out of the house you’ve been held captive in for weeks. 

You could faint from joy when you catch sight of Yuna’s car waiting outside the house, the car still on and running as you two rush to the car, climbing in the backseat. 

“Let’s go, go, go—” Yuna yells, not even waiting until Ryujin is done shutting the door to drive off as quickly as possible, her tires screeching.

There’s a moment of silence in the car where you and Ryujin look at each other and as you two lock eyes, she leans over to you and pulls you into a tight hug, trying her best to soothe you as you shake and tremble in her arms with the force of your crying. Your shoulder feels damp, you realize when you finally compose yourself enough to pull away, and you see that Ryujin has tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

“We thought you—that he—” Ryujin hiccups, and you hug her again tightly as she takes her turn to cry. “We never stopped looking for you.”

“Thank you,” you gush, the two words feeling embarrassingly inconsequential compared to the absolutely overwhelming relief and gratitude you feel. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you—”

“Don’t even mention it.” Yuna weaves through traffic precariously, and you’ve never been so relieved to be in the car with your haphazard driver of a friend.

“How the hell did you find me?” You can’t help but wonder.

Ryujin sags in relief and exhaustion against the backseat, her free hand not holding the baseball bat gripping your free hand not holding the gun. “We just had to figure out Jaemin’s name and address and the other day I got lucky and spotted him in the grocery store, so I followed him home.” Ryujin says, her words stumbling out together in her rush to speak. “It was like a miracle.”

“You’re telling me.” You laugh for what feels like the first time in ages, relief flooding through your body as the sight of the police precinct comes into view. 

It’s over. It’s finally over.

“So what brings you to therapy?” The woman sitting in a large gray armchair watches you over the rims of her glasses. Her gaze is intent but kind, and she crosses one leg over the other. 

Her navy blue blazer and skirt are a cute combination, you think. The color brings out the warm brown of her eyes, and the slightly lighter shade of blue on the wall behind her only helps you feel a bit more at ease.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you speak.

“About two months ago, I, um…I was stalked and kidnapped.” You exhale slowly. “Or abducted, I guess—you can’t kidnap an adult—but, um, yeah.”

You chance a peek at the woman across from you to see her eyebrows raised in surprise, a concerned frown on her face.

“That must have been terrifying.” 

“Yeah, for sure. The guy who did it is in prison now, thankfully, but it’s definitely changed a lot of things in my everyday life, y’know?” you mumble, and she hums thoughtfully, nodding.

“Can you tell me a bit more about that?”

“Well, um. I ended up moving out of my apartment because I just didn’t feel safe there. I live in a different building now with a great security system.”

“That’s good.” She encourages you to continue speaking with a small wave of her hand.

“I also quit my job because that’s how J— …my stalker—found me. Now I work as a waitress.”

“I see,” she muses. “How is that working out?”

“It’s good,” you say with a shrug. “Meeting all those people every day is kind of nerve-wracking, but maybe it’ll get better with time.”

“I believe it will,” she assures you, and you can feel yourself relaxing a bit more. “How have you been sleeping?”

“Not very well,” you chuckle humorlessly. “I’m so…jumpy nowadays that any sounds at night wake me up instantly.”

“I can imagine.”

“And then there are the, um…the nightmares.” She seems to be waiting for you to elaborate, but a lump rises in your throat, rendering you silent for the time being. 

Avoiding her gaze, you scan the room for something to ground you and stop the tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. Your eyes land on the placard on her desk, your eyes tracing over the embossed letters of her name—Dr. Jiyoon Choi—and you envision what the nameplate would feel like under your fingertips. 

It’d be cool to the touch, you think; it’s metal, after all. Smooth, too. You mentally run your fingers over the ridges of the letters of her name, and—

“Nightmares are common for people who have been through traumatic events like your situation.” Dr. Choi’s voice is gentle but brings you out of your dissociative state nonetheless. 

“I figured,” you mutter with a nod.

“It will take time to work through everything you’ve been through.” Dr. Choi explains, and you nibble at your bottom lip as you listen to her. “Nightmares and flashbacks are common in people with PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” 

“Yeah,” you echo lamely.

“As is dissociating at times,” she continues, and you think back to the several times you’ve spaced out in the thirty minutes you’ve been in her office. “It’s your brain trying to protect you from the memories.”

“I need it to try a little harder,” you sigh, and her lips quirk upwards into a fond smile.

“Be easy on it, hm? And yourself; you’ve both been through so much.” There’s something so deeply affirming about her confirmation of your situation, a professional signing off on your trauma, that the dam breaks and you take in a deep, shaky inhale before bursting into tears. 

The only other sound to be heard apart from your crying is the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Tick, tick, tick.

The sureness of the ticking, the reliability of the sound, is somehow calming to you, your ragged breaths slowly starting to sync up with the clock.

Tick, tick, tick.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you manage to compose yourself once more and look up at Dr. Choi—who, you now notice, has passed you a small blue tissue box.

Tick, tick, tick.

“That was embarrassing,” you mumble, slightly chuckling as you try to play it off as a joke.

“That was expected,” Dr. Choi corrects you, sitting forward in her seat and adjusting her posture. “May I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Was that the first time you’ve cried since everything happened?”

Tick, tick, tick.

“Yes,” you admit.

“I think that’s a good sign,” she encourages you. “You’re starting to make progress by processing your emotions.”

“Yeah?” Your voice sounds small but hopeful.

Dr. Choi nods reassuringly. “Yes.”

There’s a small beat of silence and you look down and run the pads of your thumbs over the smooth surfaces of your fingernails.

“Is there anything else you’d like to share today?” Dr. Choi asks gently, and you shake your head. “Okay. In that case, I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for our session today.”

“Thank you.” You stand up and take your bag, smiling feebly as you head for her door.

“Of course.” She smiles. Your hand is just wrapping around the doorknob when she speaks again. “Will I be seeing you next week?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your fist squeezing the cool metal of the doorknob. 

You want to get rid of the dark cloud that feels like it’s been following you around for the past two months—you want to be able to walk down the street without looking over your shoulder every three seconds—you want…you want to feel better. 

“Yes,” you answer, turning back to look at her with a small smile. “You will.”

“Wonderful. My secretary can set you up for our next appointment. Take care and get home safe.” Dr. Choi bids you goodbye, and you nod again before exiting her office.

It’s a start, you think. A pretty good one, at that.

Jaemin lazily thumbs through the pile of magazines in the pathetic excuse for a library the penitentiary has to offer, biding his time until the guards switch out their shifts. The clock ticks on endlessly, driving Jaemin closer and closer to insanity with every tick, tick, tick—

The air is uncomfortably warm and smells faintly of bleach and stale breath.

Tick, tick, tick—

The guard on duty yawns and looks at his watch.

Tick, tick, tick—

Another inmate in the “library” asks for permission to use the computer. Jaemin scoffs, wondering if his fellow prisoner is going to entertain himself with a game of Sudoku, Solitaire, or Minesweeper, seeing as how they have no access to the internet.

Tick, tick, tick—

Jaemin stands up slowly, so as not to draw too much attention to himself, and walks between the bookshelves holding barely anything worthwhile. He browses through the book selection, slender fingers stroking the spine of each hardcover book, before he finally finds what he’s been looking for. 

He brings the book back to his seat and angles the spine up so the cover is easily visible to anyone who may look at him. Feigning a pensive expression, Jaemin flips to the middle of the book. The back half of the pages have been meticulously hollowed out in the shape of a rectangle and there, in the makeshift pocket, lies a smartphone. 

Jaemin smirks to himself, smoothly pocketing the phone, and busies himself with looking through the pages of the book that haven’t been carved into. Hardcover books are typically off-limits, barely even allowed in the penitentiary, but Jaemin’s been getting some special perks due to “good behavior.”

To avoid arousing suspicion, he closes the book and gets up to put it back on the shelf, instead picking up a random self-help softcover book and leafing through the pages idly until that glorious tick, tick, tick—

There’s a brief sound of shuffling as the guard on duty stands up and offers his seat to the new guard about to assume his post. The first guard leaves, and the new guard sits down in the seat, leaning back to get comfortable. 

Jaemin waits.

Tick, tick, tick.

The guard sighs, already bored with his assignment, and Jaemin enacts his plan. Scrunching his face up in discomfort, he stands up and, clutching his stomach, makes his way over to the guard, who sits up in his seat immediately, apprehensive upon Jaemin’s approach.

“Can I help you?” The guard asks, his voice rough like sandpaper, and Jaemin groans once for effect.

“I need to use the bathroom. I think I’m gonna be sick.” He moans, and the guard’s eyebrows furrow as he appears to think about it. Jaemin can only hope this guard isn’t on a sick little power trip and won’t feel like denying him the bathroom just for the hell of it.

To really sell it, Jaemin lurches forward, doubling over as he mimics the sounds of poorly restrained retching. The guard’s face contorts into disgust, and he waves at the hallway in admission.

“I knew there was something fishy about those Sloppy Joes for lunch.” Jaemin hears the guard muttering to himself and masks his smirk with another discomfort-borne twisting of his lips.

He staggers past the guards in the hallway, walking past one tall, burly guard Jaemin has a feeling he shouldn’t piss off and a thin, almost lanky guard who could probably blow away if the wind got too strong, and makes his way into the bathroom, locking himself in a stall and dropping to his knees. As he hunches over the toilet bowl, he fishes out the sleek black rectangle from his pocket and powers the phone on, quickly opening up the internet browser and typing in what he’s looking for.

Jaemin fake retches loudly to keep up appearances, fingers of his free hand drumming impatiently on his lower thigh, and sighs in relief when the familiar page loads.

FunBunny is now live.

“Not now, FunBunny,” Jaemin mutters. “I have someone in mind.”

He types in the username he’s had swimming around in his mind for the past three months since he’s been locked up and when the page buffers, no doubt due to the shitty internet connection in the prison, Jaemin sucks his teeth. 

“Come on, come on, come on.” He’s alight with a buzz, the jitters settling in as the page finally loads, only for his heart to drop to the bottom of his stomach.

User ‘PL4YG1RL’ does not exist. Please try a different search term.

Jaemin stares at the screen incredulously, anger and frustration building slowly but steadily and now he swears he really can feel bile rising in his throat.

“Impossible.” He spits through gritted teeth, now dangerously close to losing his composure. He’s waited three months—three fucking months—to see you again, and you’ve managed to slip through his fingers.

He refreshes the page in a refusal to accept the situation, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turn white, and has to restrain the urge to slam the phone down on the grimy tiles in defeat when the page finishes loading to show the same screen as before.

“Fuck, shit, fuck!” Jaemin slams his hand against the wall of the bathroom stall before growling, his tethers to sanity starting to slip away the further he spirals into his thoughts.

“Inmate, what’s going on in there?” One of the guards from the hallway calls out, the bass in his voice snapping Jaemin back to reality. 

“Got sick from the Sloppy Joes,” Jaemin grunts back, running his fingers through his hair and barely restraining himself from yanking the locks out at the root. 

“Those always seemed odd to me, y’know.” Another voice, a thinner, more mousy voice sounds out, presumably the less imposing of the two guards. “Always thought they smelled kinda funny.”

“Yeah.” The burly guard is dismissive at best, and whatever the mousy guard says as a follow-up comment goes unheard by Jaemin as he refocuses his attention on the disappointing sight on his phone screen. 

Jaemin stands up finally, shutting the phone off and pocketing it once more. He flushes the toilet with his foot and exits the stall, washing his hands. He stares himself down in the dirty bathroom mirror, at the dark circles that have formed under his eyes since his time in prison began, the scowl Jaemin’s mouth is unwaveringly twisted into, and he grits his teeth. He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands, and heads out of the bathroom and back to the library with a building resolve in his chest.

Jaemin will find you again—no matter what it takes.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :) tips are greatly appreciated!

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