#jaemin and his arms

[foxy-kitsune]

i'm just gonna stay quiet and not comment on these.

[nerdlvr]

i have nothing appropriate to say.

[maximura]

[suga-kookiemonster]

i am clearly very out of the ncity loop, but can somebody please explain to me when my baby jaemin started looking like this

[neosvcr]

letting him fuck you without a condom for the first time.

it was a very welcome surprise to him, honestly. "raw? that's a hell of a lot of trust, huh, baby?" he murmured, his large hands pushing your thighs further apart. he wraps a hand around his cock, trailing the tip up and down your soaked slit. initially, he did it for the sole purpose of riling you up before he gave you what you want, but the feeling of your essence coating his sensitive tip ended up in his own undoing too.

as soon as he began to slowly push himself into you, he visibly lost all composure. his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes glued to where you both met. "fuck, baby." he groaned deeply, adjusting to the sensation of being bare inside you for the first time. your warmth and wetness completely enveloped him, coating his cock with a glistening layer of arousal as he began to rock his hips.

"you gonna freak if i knock you up?" he asked, the words naturally falling from his lips. clearly, both of you were too far gone to think straight. his words took a while to register due to how good of a job he was doing, but once they did he could feel the effect that question had on you. he pushed deeper inside of you with each slow thrust. "you're just so fuckin' pretty like this, i might end up putting a baby in you." he continued on, his voice dropping an octave. he lowered himself to ghost a light kiss to your lips. his smirk grew as a new wave of arousal coated him.

"pretty baby's making a mess on my sheets," he chuckled, his own restraint being tested by this position. "you like that idea? want me to fill you up, honey?" he muttered as he fluttered soft kisses around your face. he noticed how your body responded to the way he was talking. he always did. he smirked at the realisation that he'd stumbled across something new to drive you up the wall. he lowered himself to his elbows, his arms on either side of your head as he held you. he grinned as you nodded, his face now only inches from yours. "look at me, baby." he whispered, noticing how out of it you were. you were getting so whiny. he gently tapped your cheek. as soon as your eyes met his, he began thrusting deeper and a little harder. you were making a mess all over the both of you at this point. you were both getting louder, breathier, more desperate. his hand gripped your thigh possessively as his other one rested near your head. "i love you," i murmured, his eyes locked on yours. "i love you so much," he continued, the intensity of the connection and situation being almost overwhelming.

his thrusts became more deliberate, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you. he watched the way you reacted to everything he was doing and saying, breathy groans spilling from his lips. "i'm gonna cum inside you, baby." he spoke, "gonna knock you up. wanna make me a daddy?" he began rambling as he watched you gaze down at the sight of him disappearing inside of you.

"cum with me?" he asked breathlessly. "please, cum for me baby," he continued, almost begging. "you can do it," he encouraged, his fingers finding that bud between your thighs. it wasn't long until you both came, riding out the intense waves of pleasure. he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, praising you for doing so well. that definitely would not be the last time you did this.

sungchan, eunseok, anton, hanbin, jiwoong, gyuvin, gunwook, jaehyun, johnny, yuta, jeno, jaemin, mark, jisung, haechan, kun, yangyang, soobin, taehyun, jake, sunghoon, jay, heeseung, mingyu, wonwoo, scoups, vernon, juyeon, sangyeon, sunwoo, hyunjae, eric and anyone else you wish to add in

[noremii]

Love Me Right (M)

synopsis: your heart shatters when you find out your husband is cheating on you with another woman. as revenge, you begin a scandalous relationship of your own with the mistress' husband.

word count: 12K+

warnings: cheating, unprotected sex, wall sex, cum eating, fingering, slight exhibitionism, oral (m & f receiving, some questionable actions by characters, softdom!jaemin, big dick jaem

(not proofread)

As the years passed, you failed to notice the lack of attention your husband was giving you. Late nights filled with warm cuddles turned into plenty of excuses of being tired and stressed from work. Your husband giving you just a kiss to the cheek before pulling the sheets over his shoulders and closing his eyes. Yet you refused to think something was wrong. "He's just tired from work" you'd tell yourself every time you had the sour feeling of fear stirring in your gut that your husband was starting to love you less and less everyday.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

Getting married was the happiest day of your life. The excitement you felt the day the prettiest white wedding dress hugged your body was forever imprinted in you head, not being able to hold back a smile whenever you were reminded by the fact you married the love of your life. Every night was filled with childish giggles, snuggling and never ending kisses every where. It was a fairytale life for you.

It was only a while later your husband started acting more giddy. He'd come home from work to greet you with a childish smile, pressing a long kiss to your cheek and mumbling compliments before heading off to shower. You thought things were finally getting better. Maybe he got a promotion? Maybe he was praised by his boss more. Whatever is was, a wave of relief washed over you after that.

"Babe, get ready by 7pm, we're having dinner with a colleague of mine" Your husband said to you one day. "Dress nice, we're going to a pretty fancy restaurant" He says with a dazed smile as he looked through his closet, finding his best suit. You sat in bed, sheets pulled over your legs and a fashion magazine open in your hands. "Oo, what's the occasion and who's this colleague of yours?" You ask. "She's my project partner. We're working together on this project that's going really well with a bunch of other people. I invited the others but they were all busy" Then he turns to look at you with a grin, the suit he was looking for held in one hand. It was ironed beautifully thanks to you. "She's amazing. I can't wait for you to meet her"

You only smiled.

☆

Upon arriving at this fancy looking Italian restaurant, you notice your husband's eyes darting all over the place in search of his colleague. His eyes almost glimmered when he saw her. Your gaze followed his until they landed on the infamous woman your husband had been mumbling about. She was drop dead gorgeous, and part of your self esteem dropped dead in your stomach. You hide the deep inhale you took when you saw her. Like you used to, endless words of comfort flooded your head in attempts to drown out the fear, doubt and over thinking in your head. Thankfully for you, it did in fact manage to calm your nerves down.

"Sejun!" the woman exclaimed happily when the two of you walked closer. Both your husband and her opened their arms for a quick embrace, the smile you had feeling more forced as you wonder if this is a normal thing for coworkers to do. You glanced at her partner, noticing the tint of worry in his eyes that were the same as yours.

Sat next to your husband's colleague was a well dressed man. His hair styled perfectly to bring out the charm of his face. His eyes were just as sparkly as the woman's. Noticing the protective hand that was placed on her lap, you could only assume this man was her boyfriend or even husband.

"I'm y/n" you introduce, smile smaller now as you extend your hand towards his for a handshake - much more normal, you think.

"Jaemin" he introduces in return, reciprocating your friendly smile.

When your husband and his coworker finally let go after what felt like forever, all of you took a seat. You sat opposite of Jaemin while your husband sat opposite his coworker.

"Oh, my name is Hyejoo by the way" she says as if finally acknowledging your presence. Her hand extends towards you and you take it in for the handshake. Her hand yanked away from yours just a second after contact, almost as if she didn't want to be touching you. Your heart sours, feeling weird.

The dinner goes on as it should with Hyejoo and your husband eagerly ordering all the enticing looking dishes that none of you have seen nor tried before. Every so often, you and Jaemin would glance at each other, not very sure what to say to each other or how to act. It felt as though the two of you were kids, forced to sit across from each other as your mums talked away.

"Do you know what project they're working on?" you ask Jaemin with an awkward chuckle to finish your sentence. He responds with an equally awkward smile, shaking his head. "Said it was some big company project too complicated for her to explain. Just told me it was very important" You nod, not knowing what to say next.

Even when the food arrived, placed in front of you with delicious steam floating in the air, not even once did your husband acknowledge you or your food. He didn't ask what you were eating, if he could try a bite. He only thanked the waiter, immediately going back to his conversation with Hyejoo. You looked down, playing with your fingers.

"Hey, you okay?" Jaemin asks when he notices your strange behavior. You force a smile and Jaemin almost believed it. "I think I just had a cramp"

When dinner finally comes to an end and Hyejoo calls it a night, you resist the urge to scream in relief when you feel like your husband wrap an arm around your waist and bid Hyejoo goodnight. Similarly, Jaemin had a hand around Hyejoo's waist, the small barely there smile on his face looking more annoyed and forced the longer you stared. You could almost see him burning your husband with his eyes, jaw getting tense the longer the it took for the two of them to finally stop talking and part ways. The final goodbye leaves their lips after what felt like forever and Jaemin glances over to you, the smile on his face turning from forced to more genuine when he nods his head towards you, that being his own way of saying goodnight. You reciprocate the action and all of you go home.

☆

Honestly, you thought that dinner would be the end of things. You had already met the girl, what else did you have to do? Well apparently, a lot of visiting. Sejun insisted on heading over to Hyejoo's place at least twice a week so that they could have more time to discuss the project. When you asked him why he just had to go to her place to work instead of leaving it till the next day at the office, all he said was "Well, I didn't want you to feel jealous so I thought you might as well come along with me"

You didn't know how to feel about that answer. Some part of you said, aww he cares about my feelings. While the other part of you wanted to hack into his brain and see what was really going on. Were you just overreacting or was this just a really weird thing?

The first time you went over to her place, you hated yourself for being so impressed by the designing of her home. The decor was top tier and her house was absolutely spotless, not a single thing out of place.

"How about a house tour?" She claps happily. "Then I'll start preparing our dinner for tonight"

"That sounds like a great idea!" Sejun responds with a big grin. "You did some reno recently too right? " She hums back in delight. Hyejoo gives a fantastic house tour and when you check your phone, your brows furrow in surprise seeing how it too almost 40 minutes to look around her house. "God I didn't think a house tour would be so tiring" you say with a soft laugh to Sejun while Hyejoo was busy searching her closet for something. "If you're tired you can go rest" He replies, snatching away the little smile you had. His reply was monotone, saying it as if it was dumb of you to not have backed out of the tour midway when you got tired. "Yeah.. " you try to laugh it off but the silence somehow only got louder and louder. "I'm gonna just.. " you point to the direction of the kitchen. When you receive no reply or reaction from Sejun, you just walk away, shoulders slumped and heart souring.

In the kitchen, Jaemin was on his phone munching away on some almonds and quietly laughing at whatever he was looking at. Hearing the footsteps coming closer towards him, he looks up with a glimmer in his eyes and a wide grin. Though both of those sparks slowly die down when he realizes it's only you. "Oh hi y/n." He says, "Done with the tour already?"

You shake your head, taking a seat in front of him. "No, I got tired and thought it'd be a genius idea to go rest since my I'm just so tired" You say almost mockingly with a roll of the eyes. Jaemin, not knowing if he should ask what's up or keep quiet, solves all his problems by sliding over his bowl of almonds to you. "Nuts?"

...

"Alright I hope you guys love steak because I'm great at cooking i- aw shucks" Hyejoo's voice turns poutier when she opens her refrigerator to find a lack of meat. "I thought I bought some just a few days ago" she murmurs. "Jaemin, didn't I buy some steak just two days ago?" She turns around to look at her husband, one hand on her hip and her lips downturned into a pout.

"I think you bought chicken, honey" Jaemin replies. You could see the softness in his eyes as he looked at his wife and you almost envied her. Glancing over to your own husband, you wondered when was the last time he even looked at you that way. "I did? Aw man, I have to go buy some steak now!" Hyejoo exclaims. "Why don't you just use what you've already bought? Saves you the hassle of going out to buy it again' Jaemin says. " I promised Sejun I'd cook him my signature steak. I've been bragging about it all week." Hyejoo replies while grabbing her purse. "Sejun, can you follow me to the supermarket to get some steak? Maybe we can go get some extra stuff for dinner too"

Jaemin's jaw drops open a little, getting out of his seat. "Why don't I just follow you, Hye"

Hyejoo looks up at him and places a tender hand to his cheek. "You stay here with y/n okay? Can't have a stranger all alone in our house" She jokes with a laugh. "No Offense y/n, you're a lovely girl"

You don't even reply, only throwing her an awkward nod and chuckle, trying to make it look like you actually found her lousy joke funny.

"Come on Jun, let's hurry!" Hyejoo grabs onto your husband and pulls him out of the house without another word. "We'll be right back!" you hear her say before the door slams shut and it's locked.

You look over at Jaemin who looks just as defeated as you.

"So... " you begin with an awkward tone, walking over to Jaemin who had his tongue poking at his cheek with an annoyed glare. His glare wasn't towards you yet you could feel the fire burning from his eyes. He was no doubt jealous, and understandably so. You were jealous too. "This is totally normal right?" you ask, taking a seat by the gorgeous marble island, not too far from Jaemin who had slumped into his seat at the dining table.

"I don't know" He mumbles, voice deep and hoarse, not quite in the mood for anything at that point. "I don't have group projects with my colleagues"

"As a gal that works under the marketing department like them... there are times where group projects take a lot of time. Just to make sure everything goes smoothly, y'know?"

Now, Jaemin sits ups right, both hands slamming against the table not in anger, but to make a point.

"This doesn't feel like a project to me. How is this a formal, proper work project if only two members are working on it? This isn't high school where the rest of your group can just laze around while two people work hard on the project"

Getting up, you head over to the dining table and sit across from Jaemin who started looking tenser by the second. "We shouldn't worry too much. There's probably an explanation to all this. After all, they're working under Neo Corp, everyone is crazy busy all the time"

Jaemin lets out a deep exhale, eyes falling shut. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'm just overreacting"

As you provide more words of comfort to the male in front of you, you begin to wonder just how much of your own words you believe.

...

"Seriously? Macarons are way too sweet. I think something like strudels are a much better tea time snack" You reply to Jaemin, the both of you somehow ending up in a long debate about the superior kind of dessert as a way to distract the both of you from your spouse's long work project. "I just love sugar" Jaemin answers with a shrug.

"We're back!" the door opens revealing an excitedly Hyejoo at the back. She almost looked giddy as she held up a plastic bag with steak in it. "Who's ready to have the best steak of their life!"

You and Jaemin look over at each other before raising your hands. "Me"

...

Hyejoo's steak was mouth watering. You and Sejun left the house feeling sleepy and full. Your tongue rolled around in your mouth, desperate to find any remaining flavour from the steak. Even the tiniest hint of residue in your mouth had you humming in delight.

The door to your home closes with a light slam. You stretch and yawn, yearning for the warmth of your bed and your husband. As you finish brushing your teeth and hopping into your bed with your husband following behind, you finally ask him a question that lingered in your head since your earlier conversation with Jaemin.

"Sejun" you begin, your husband humming in response to the call of his name as he slips under the covers next to you. "Why is it that only you and Hyejoo are working so hard on this project together? How about your teammates" You curl up against his arm, the male leaning against you and placing a gentle hand on your head. "Hyejoo and I are the brains of the project. We're in charge of planning everything out, and once we're done with that, the others help to arrange everything. Make sure everything makes sense and looks good. Then we have a final meeting to finalize everything. Am I worrying you by working with Hyejoo too much?"

His calming voice was like poison in your mind. Your eyebrows furrow sadly and you pout, nodding at his question.

"Ngaw.. " he twists his body so that he's able to press a tender kiss to your head. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way, baby. But you don't have to worry about anything okay? Hyejoo is just my colleague. Plus... at the end of the day, I have a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home. I always look forward to that." His words as you sniffling happily, cuddling into him further and throwing a leg over his thighs.

"Thanks for the reassurance" you murmur.

"Of course" He places a hand under your chin, making you look up at him. "I love you" He presses a kiss to your lips. The kiss prolongs, tongues are intertwining with each other and soon enough, he's hovering above you, hand slowly tracing down to your pants.

...

Visits to Hyejoo's place become uncommon for you now. You felt as though your relationship with your husband was going back to normal, and what's even better was that you were forming a pretty lovely friendship with Jaemin. The both of you finding new shared hobbies at every meeting.

"You can cook??" You say with a gasp, Jaemin throwing the cockiest smile and waving a hand at you. "Not gonna brag but, I'm an amazing chef. I had a roommate back in college. That guy wakes me up at 3am everyday just to make him some eggs to satisfy his weird midnight cravings. Kinda fell in love with cooking after that. " Jaemin lets out a chuckle. "Lucky bastard... He got to eat gourmet food as u started learning how to up my egg cooking game. And now I'm here, cooking premium meats every other week"

"Well if you're really the shit, how bout you make some gourmet meal right now" You challenge.

"Sure" Jaemin shrugs, getting out of his seat. "What do you want? Meat? Rice? Pasta?"

Before you can even answer, he's already opening the fridge. "Ah, how about truffle pasta. I'm great at making that. I think you'll love it" He doesn't even turn around to see if you agree, instead taking out everything he needed to make the dish.

Soon enough, Jaemin is washing vegetables, cutting ingredients, preparing to prove to you just how great he is at cooking. Watching him dice onions and garlic with crazy impressive knife skills made your heart dance. Men who could cook will always be insanely attractive to you. And Jaemin fit that standard perfectly. Your own husband had always refused to talk about cooking. Constantly changing the topic before you even get to mention it. Not gonna lie, it pissed you off sometimes but when he said he only felt that way because he was always nagged by his mother and grandmother to cook, you huffed and let it slide.

Watching Jaemin cook was hypnotizing. With every move he made, you could see clearly how he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Bon apetit, madam" he says, laying the beautifully plated truffle pasta in front of you. Your jaw drops at the sight. Presentation was top tier and the smell of it was mouth watering. Something twitched in your chest when you looked up to see him with a cocky smirk on his face. "What are you waiting for? Have a taste" He says. You pick up the fork, twirling the pasta and taking a bite. Needless to say, you almost cried and Jaemin was pumping his fists in the air declaring victory.

...

It was yet another day at Hyejoo's house. Both she and your husband were upstairs in her mini office discussing marketing strategies and new never used ideas. Downstairs, you were with Jaemin watching a scary movie. Just to up the fear factor, you guys watched an Indonesian horror movie. While you were accustomed to the horror style of Southeast Asian horror films, Jaemin was not. With every suspenseful move from the main character, Jaemin was flinching. "Why are the houses in horror films always so dark?" he complains with a grimace, hands twitching about anticipating something big to happen.

"Na Jaemin being a scaredy cat for horror movies was not in my bingo card" you laugh. "Oh, shut up" he replies, sending a smack to your arm right after making you burst out in silent laughter. Your attempts at laughing quietly fail horribly when a jump scare finally happens and Jaemin practically jumps in his seat, buff and heavy body making the couch screech against the floor by barely an inch. "Holy fuccckkk" Jaemin groans out with a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart beat under his palm. His reaction had you falling on your side curled up into a ball, kicking your feet and you desperately tried to conceal your never ending giggling behind your hand.

"Oh you think that's funny huh" Jaemin says.

You're about to laugh out a yes until Jaemin is attacking you with tickles, jabbing you at sensitive areas as payback for you laughing at his misery. You're kicking at him, trying to pry him off you. One final kick has him losing his balance and he manages to save himself from crashing into you by planting a firm hand next to your head. Na Jaemin was now hovering above you and worst of all, your heart was thumping fast - a bit too fast for your liking. There was nothing but silence between the both of you, but neither of you made a move to get out of this strange, not very appropriate position. You noticed how Jaemin's eyes were slowly examining every feature on your face, and when your own eyes trail down from his eyes to his lips, you see him gulp.

The sound of the upstairs door creaking open and muffled chattering of your respective spouses has the two of you in panic mode, immediately getting out of that position and sitting far apart from each other on the couch. Your throat went dry and you could almost hear the sound of your own heart thumping out of your chest.

"Oh! You guys are watching a movie? How fun!" Hyejoo exclaims as she walks down the stairs. Noticing the dark lighting and flashing scenes, she shivered, mentioning how she hates horror and the rest of her yapping was drowned out by the loud thumping of your heart. You didn't even realize she was bidding you goodnight until Sejun places a hand on your shoulder saying it was time to go home. Just before you exit, you turn your head hoping to get one last glance at him; and you do, he gives you a small smile accompanied by a wave goodnight.

☆

Since that little situation with Jaemin, you've been haunted by dreams with him as the main character. Romantic visuals and the feeling of warmth hugging your heart with every dream that comes your way has you waking up in cold sweat, concerned of the images your brain was constantly presenting you. There was a guilt swarming your chest because every time you woke up from one of those dreams, you felt happy, feeling the sense of cute young love again. But that was wrong. So, so very wrong. You were a married woman and Jaemin a married man. How can you even think of him that way?

"You okay?" Sejun's question breaks you out of your daydream.

"Yeah" you answer, throwing him an awkward chuckle. "Just been having strange dreams, that's all. Dreamt Leonardo da Vinci was hiding a secret behind the painting in our living room. Felt way too real I almost felt skeptical"

Sejun smiles at you awkwardly. "Have you been watching way too much mystery shows, babe? It might be getting to your head."

"Maybe"

"Anyways," he places his empty coffee mug into the sink, walking towards you only to press a kiss to your head. "I'll be home late today okay? Got a team meeting and who knows, we might head out for some late night beer afterwards"

"Really? Again"

"It's for work babe, you know that"

"Yeah but there's no way you have to have a meeting every day right? Aren't meetings supposed to be spaced out every few days so you can do touch ups and what not before the next meeting?"

Sejun lets out a deep sigh. "It's my job, Y/n. Okay? I'm getting paid to do this, so let me do my job"

"Right, fine. I'm sorry" you Huff, waving him off.

"It's alright. I love you, remember that okay?"

"Mhm, I love you too"

"That's my girl" Fingers are placed under your chin and your head is guided upwards where your husband places a tender kiss to your lips.

...

It was 11.30pm and the tummy grumbles you've been trying to ignore for the past hour had finally gotten to you. Throwing on the prettiest coat you own and a pair of easy slip on sneakers, you head towards the bakery just a few blocks away from your apartment. The pastries there were to die for and it was the perfect snack for such a late hour.

Greeted by the aroma of freshly baked goods, you're practically floating as you grab a tray and start picking out all the best parties they had. Maybe you had gotten too greedy, having at least 3 different fruit danishes and a cream puff just because you wanted something soft and fluffy. You pay up and head towards the exit, but you bump into a meaty figure before you could even grab the door handle to leave.

"Oh my god I'm so sor- Jaemin?" you gasp in surprise when you look up to see the man of your dreams (literally) standing right in front of you, dressed in a black turtle neck and light blue jeans. Such simple clothes yet his charm was as visible as ever. You almost wanted to throw yourself out the window when you remember that you're wearing the biggest shirt known to man kind and draped in a pretty coat that did not match your outfit at all.

"What a coincidence!" Jaemin sings, wide smile plastered on his face. "What are you doing here at such a late hour?"

"Sejun is still out at the office for a meetings" You Huff, crossing your arms. "And I got hungry so I decided to get something to eat."

"Same! Hyejoo is still working and it's really boring at home. My mouth is starting to get bored so I decided to come out and grab a a snack too." Then Jaemin snaps his fingers. You could practically see a light bulb shining brightly above his head. "Why don't we have a drink together? Like coffee or tea while we eat our pastries. Whaddya say?"

The offer was tempting. Terribly tempting. Going home was boring cause you'd only be watching more tv and eating your pastries alone. Having a night time tea time with Jaemin didn't sound like a bad idea. In fact, it sounded like a great idea.

"I'm in"

The male beams, smiling from ear to ear. "Grab a table. I'll order more pastries and some drinks. Just tell me what you want"

Not too long after, you and Jaemin are seated across from each other with a large tray of pastries. There was a hot long black for Jaemin and a hot cocoa for you.

"Isn't this great?" Jaemin asks, picking up his favorite macaron and taking a bite. "Tea time at midnight? Really interesting if I do say so myself, surprised this place is even still open at this hour."

You chuckle, agreeing with him as he takes another bite.

"Hyejoo never does these kind of things with me anymore. All of a sudden, she's the busiest person I know and we're barely spending time together." Jaemin is grabbing another macaron to eat, the glimmer in his eyes fading slightly. "I know this sounds crazy but it almost feels as though we're strangers... it sounds insane because I'm literally married to her. Yet it feels like I'm living with some random girl"

"Hey... It's alright. Things happen y'know? People get busy. But she's just working, nothing to worry about." You tell him.

"But I do worry. " He says. "Feels like she's hiding something from me but I don't have any proof. When I ask, she tells me it's nothing. And when I think too deeply on it, I'm wondering if I'm the problem. Amni doing something wrong? Is that why she's hiding something from me?"

"I don't think she's hiding anything, Jaemin. I don't know. But I too am just trying to be open minded. Marketing does get hectic sometimes..."

Jaemin sighs, grabbing a Danish and terrifyingly, he downs it in one bite - mouth puffing up like a chipmunk.

The heavy mood slowly begins to fade when you compare Jaemin to a chipmunk with his full cheeks. The man, although feeling a heavy weight on his heart cracks a smile.

"Do i?" he asks with full cheeks and you nod with a smile.

Jaemin chews his food properly, chipmunk cheeks gone.

"Aw, chipmunk Jaem has disappeared" you say with a faux pout. "I'll miss him so much  he was kinda cute"

"Oh really?" The mood lightens up fully now. As the night goes on, you and Jaemin continue to joke around, get into more silly debates and talk about your first times doing different things. The heavy mood from earlier had long faded away and Jaemin was feeling much better. There was a happy warmth swarming his chest everytime you smiled and laughed. Each time you giggled, he was determined to see more of it, cracking more silly puns and making weird facial expressions just because it cracked you up so much. For the first time in a while, Jaemin felt free of his own thoughts. There was no worry and fear lurking in his head, just serotonin and silliness.

Eventually, the shop begins to close, meaning it was time to wrap up.

"Tonight was great" Jaemin says. "Though it was only an hour, I had a great time. I don't feel sad anymore. Thanks"

"Pffft" You wave him off. "It was nothing. Just two friends hanging out. But yeah, I had a great time too thanks to you"

As Jaemin debates what to do next before the two of you part ways, he's almost terrified when an image pops into his head and disappears before he could fully register it.

"You can't do that, you're a married man" He screams at himself in his head. When he finally realizes he's been talking to himself for a bit too long,  he snaps out of it and opens his arms. "Hug?"

You agree, almost jumping at his action but you manage to hold back, going in for a normal hug like normal people do. Like normal friends do.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow night? I know they're gonna meet up for the project again at your place"

"Yeah, they are." Jaemin clears his throat. "Then uh, goodnight! Get home safe alright. Oh- you should give me your number so I can make sure you get home safely. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I knew you got hurt"

"Right- uh" Jaemin hands you his phone and you tap your number into his phone.

"Send me a text when you get home alright?" Jaemin says.

"Will do. Night!" You send him a wave and he waves back.

The both of you walk in the opposite direction back home.

As he walks home, Jaemin's mind goes haywire with the image of him kissing you goodnight running through his head, replaying over and over. Meanwhile, you have a hard time shaking off the the memory of embracing Jaemin. His scent and warmth so comforting to you, almost intoxicating.

"What's wrong with me..." The both of you mumble to yourselves.

☆

"11pm.. " you mumble to yourself, leg tapping anxiously against your carpeted floor while your eyes were glued onto the digital clock next to your TV. Hours after your husband's work dinner was supposed to end, he was still no where to be seen. Calls were not being picked up, messages were left on delivered, you were going insane. Bottling up with anxiety and fear, you get up from the couch, grab your keys and drive off to the location of your husband's work dinner.

"Sorry ma'am, they left about 2 hours ago" The cashier tells you and part of you wanted to scream.

"Ah, I see. Thanks" you give the lady a smile and exit. Once back in the car, you fold your arms, head leaned back against the headrest. "Where would they go after a work dinner... " The first answer that came to your mind was Jaemin's house. Maybe after dinner, Sejun and Hyejoo decided to go back and continue working. As you send Jaemin a quick text to ask if they were there, a wave of annoyance flushes through you. But you'd much rather have your husband over at their place than being in danger god knows where.

Jaemin: no, they're not here either. hyejoo isn't picking up my calls too.

Jaemin's answer makes your stomach drop. Well fuck, if they weren't there, where else could they be?

You: I'm gonna go to their office. hopefully they're there, if not I'm seriously gonna file a police report.

Jaemin: I'll head to their office too.

Parking outside the office building, you greet the security guard that you see every day when sending lunch boxes over to your husband.

"Hi, Mr Noh" you greet. "Did you see Sejun? They had a company dinner hours ago and h3 isn't picking up my phone calls"

"Oh, Sejun was just here a while ago. I haven't seen him leave yet so I think he should still be inside" Mr Noh replies and a wave of relief washes over you.

"Thank god" you Huff in relief. "Thank you so much" Giving Mr Noh a thanksful Pat on the shoulder, you speed walk into the office and up the elevator, pressing on the floor that your husband worked on.

The hallways were dim and quiet, just a few emergency lights giving light in the hallways. the dead silence made it feel like you were in a horror movie, serial axe murderer or vengeful ghost hiding somewhere in the shadows, preparing to attack. As your mind continued to play tricks on you by convincing you that you saw moving shadows, the sound of a giggle makes you jolt.

Fuck, is this place really haunted?,, you wondered. Then there was another giggle, but this time it was deeper, like it came from a male.

"I can't believe we're doing this here" the female voice says. You felt your stomach stir, instantly recognizing the voice that belonged to Hyejoo. "We work on this desk" she says.

"That's what makes it thrilling isn't it?"

Yeah, you were about to vomit. Because that was your husbands voice. You could never be more sure. Of course, you've heard his voice for years. It was the same voice who hummed songs to you to help you fall asleep on restless nights.

"You're right" she says with a giggle. The male - your husband, lets out a low chuckle. Then there's to sound of lips being pressed against each other. Loud, sloppy, then there's moaning and groaning.  Your legs began to give out, slapping a hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming and crying out loud. The moans get louder, the sound of clothes being taken off and what you could only assume to be the office desk creaking. You wanted to kill him. You didn't even have to take a peek to know what they were doing. Finally, you find the strength to run out the building, holding it the tears threatening to spill out and show just how weak you felt.

When you got to the ground floor, elevator doors opening, you made a run for it. Far from them, you cried freely. Sobbing into your palm, your vision got blurry from the tears. With your blurry vision, you didn't notice as you ran straight into a muscled body. Then it finally hit you that Jaemin said he'd be coming too. You sniff, looking up to see Jaemin's concerned face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice laced with so much genuine concern that you dropped to your knees, sobbing and Jaemin getting on his knees to be on your level.

"They- they" God, you couldn't even speak properly, throat constricting, struggling to even breath. The only thing you could do was grab Jaemin's forearm, gripping so hard that you knew you were going to mark him. "I heard them." you force yourself to mutter. "They were kissing. And they're about to do God knows what else up there"

Jaemin didn't even need to ask who you were talking about. The suspicions he'd been trying to store away finally coming to light with your words. His eyes tear up, but he sucks in a deep breath trying to stay strong. It's hard, he wants to scream and break something. He couldn't do that. So, he closed his eyes and pulled you into his embrace, rubbing a hand up and down your back as you cried into his chest, keeping your strong grip on his forearm. It hurt, but Jaemin preferred this physical rather than the one tearing at his heart.

After minutes, he lifts you up with him. "Let's go." he says.

You stop your crying to look up at him, confused. "Where do we go? Do we just go home and pretend as if nothing happened?"

He shakes his head, not saying a thing but instead guiding you to his car.

"What about my car?" you asked as you opened the door to the passenger seat, guiding you inside. "Let them see. Let them realize that we know" he replies, closing your door and walking over to the driver's seat. He starts the engine, eyes lacking its usual spark. "We're going to a hotel"

---

Jaemin drives the both of you to the furthest hotel from your neighbourhood, claiming that the two of you needed this distance. He books a room for the both of you to stay the night in. Unfortunately the only room available had a queen bed and a single bed. Jaemin gladly let you take the queen sized bed.

With no other clothes but the ones you arrived in, the two of you just decide to get into bed and get some rest, or at least try to.

Neither of you open your mouths to talk about what happened. Hearts aching and anger boiling in your veins, you began to tear up. Your son of a bitch brain playing disgusting scenes of the traitor you once loved with that sly fox. Giggling and touching in the quiet office room at the dead of night. Your fists clenched, wanting nothing more than to punch the both of them bloody. You didn't even realize you began sobbing out loud until your bed dips and you hear Jaemin's honey voice, as sweet as ever despite the fact he was probably and also most likely fighting ten different emotions at the same time.

"Hey, it's alright" Jaemin says in attempt to comfort you. He didn't know what to say, still trying to wrap his head around this new reality. "It's none of our fault"

You sit up in your bed and look at Jaemin with your blood shot eyes. "Of course it isn't" You sniff, using your hand to wipe away a tear that slipped from your eye. "They're the fucking traitors here. How long have they been doing this behind our backs?" You question, voice getting louder as rage begins to flood your entire system. You've never been a violent person, but now you sure as hell wanted to get violent. "He's been sweet talking me for weeks. Telling me everything is fine while he's been screwing some girl behind my back. And he dares" You had to pause, head feeling heavy from all the pent up anger.

"He dares to make me feel loved when he knows he barely feels a thing for me anymore. That's my last straw. " Jaemin cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing away the tears that began streaming down your face. "Do I look fucking stupid to him? Like a toy that he can play with when he felt like it? Does he-" you're silenced when Jaemin leans in pressing his lips against yours. Your brain goes haywire with the way his soft lips began to move against yours like a spell with you following in pursuit. Eyes falling shut as you indulged.

Acting like this didn't make either of you a better person. But in the moment, you felt like you deserved this. The feeling of being loved properly. The feeling of being loved by a man.

The kissing gets deeper as Jaemin adjusts his body to face you properly, both his hands now cupping your cheek as he swipes a tongue against your lower lip to which you gladly let him intrude. You fall back into the bed, soft mattress engulfing your body. Hands roam his back and his sly hands trace themselves from your stomach to the waistband of your bands. The two of you finally pull away, Jaemin's hands one move away from intruding your private space.

"Is this the right thing to do?" Jaemin murmurs quietly, hot breath against your lips. You could feel how unsure he felt, being on the thin line between desire and the urge to get revenge on both your spouses. You were on the same boat as him, but your mind was hazy, seeing nothing but red. There was no lie that you had unwillingly felt a strong attraction to Jaemin, his small actions making you feel more loved in comparison to the many so called grand gestures your husband tried to do just for the sake of it. Jaemin was hot and kind, the perfect blend of a man that you liked. And here you were, caged in his arms with his hands barely centimeters away from your pussy. You've been played by your no good son of a gun husband, it was only fair that you played him as well.

"Who cares" you whisper against his lips. "They fucked us over, now it's time we do the same to them"

A switch flips in his brain and Jaemin no longer felt guilty. You were right. He had been screwed over with sweet words and gestures, only to be the fool at the end. He wanted to play too. Plus, you were gorgeous, and he hated that you made him feel whole whenever the two of you hung out while your partners were busy working upstairs. Which now you both knew that they were probably fucking rather than working.

His hand finally breaches the elastic of your shorts, middle finger teasing your damp slit through your panties that only got wetter the longer the two of you kissed. Then finally, he pulls your panties to the side and slips a finger in. You pull away from his lips to squeeze your eyes shut and moan as his single digit rubbed your walls so nice. When he added a second finger in, you felt the way he curled his fingers and his blunt nails scratched your g-spot just right.

"Fuck" Jaemin groans, blood rushing to his cock the longer he pumped his digits in and out of your slick hole. "You're so tight... " He directs his focus from his hand in your pants to your eyes. "Does he  even fuck you enough?"

You don't know why but his words make you moan. The room was dark and cold, you could barely make out his features properly and the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of your hole echoed in your ears. You shake your head.

"No, he doesn't" Jaemin pouts. "You poor thing. It's okay.. " He leans into you, lips centimeters away, fingers pulling out if your wet hole. You want to whine but then he's pulling your pants down with one hand. "I'll take care of you" he whispers before planting a kiss on your lips and pulling away to sit on his knees finish getting rid of your shorts and wrecked panties.

Under the yellow light from the lamp on your nightstand, Jaemin could see the mess he made between your thighs. An insatiable hunger grows in his stomach, leaving you no room to process a single thing before he's on his stomach and your thighs are resting against his shoulders.

He kisses up your thigh slowly until he reaches your core, taking a second to admire his piece of work. "God, you're breathtaking" he mumbles. "May I?"

He didn't even have to ask yet he still so politely did so. You give him a nod and you see him flash a greedy smile before his lips attach itself to your cunt and he flicks his tongue on your bud. You throw your head back with a moan, eyes involuntarily squeezing shut at the sensation. Jaemin is motivated by your sweet noises and begins to devour you like a man starved for centuries. He's relentless with his tongue, swirling around your bud just right and lapping up your slit like a dog.

You were in heaven.

Head from your husband didn't even feel this good.

Yet Jaemin was bringing heaven to you, spoiling you with pleasure as he sinks his tongue into your hole, working it in and out and bringing a thumb to rub your clit.

"Fuck fuck fuck please don't stop" you plead in an embarrassingly high voice, pushing his head deeper into your cunt. Your actions only make him greedier. His tongue is back to focusing on your clit while his slender fingers breach your hole again. The pace and alternative movements is perfect. Your toes are curling and your thighs are clenching around his head. With a moan, you come undone on his tongue and the man under you laps up every drop of your release until you're clean.

"Goddamn, " he rises from his position, mouth glistening with your release. "You taste like heaven. Too much of this and you might get me addicted." His sweet words make your hole clench, yearning for more. He gets on all fours, caging you in his arms once again. His dark brown eyes burn right through yours with lust. You think you're over thinking when you feel like he's looking at you with genuine admiration amongst the cloud of desire fogging his eyes. It makes your heart thud.

"Do you want more?" he asks, voice deep and playful. You nod and he gets up on his knees.

"Show me just how much you want me" He nods down at his jeans. "Get me hard"

You gulp, getting up from your position in bed to sit on your knees. Jaemin gets off the bed to stand right at the edge, making it easier for you to unbutton his jeans, pull the zipper down and free his semi hard cock from the constraints of his boxers.

"Go ahead" he says, noting the way you practically salivate at the sight of his cock. Barely hard, but you knew he'd be monstrous when he's ready.

His length is heavy in your hand, big enough that you're unable to fully wrap a fist around his cock.

You bring the tip to your mouth, kitten licking it. His cock twitches and it encourages you. Bringing his dick to your mouth, you suck on the head a few times, focusing on swirling your tongue against his sensitive tip before you are taking his cock inch by inch into your mouth. You could feel him getting hard the more you bobbed your head up and down. Jaemin groans, placing one hand on your head gently, unmoving. "Just like that" he says with a breathy groan. His praise makes you gleam, releasing his length only lick a stripe underneath his shaft and letting your mouth continue its administrations.

The way he begins to grip your hair was a telltale sign that he was getting closer. With the determination to make him cum as hard as you did, you focus on his tip, using your hand to pump the rest of his shaft. Jaemin is practically tugging your hair, the sweet burn in your scalp sending an electric shock to your throbbing clip. Vulgar words are slipping from Jaemin's sweet lips as he finally cums; hot load filling up your throat.

"Fuck" hid grip on your hair loosens and he's panting hard, recovering from the mind blowing head he just got. "You did so well.. " he opens his eyes, lips curling up into a smirk. You smile at him, opening your mouth to show him the cum that sat in your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, you swallow his load, licking your lips in delight.

His cock twitches and he's greedy again, yearning to feel your tight walls wrapped around his cock that stands tall once again; hard and ready to go.

"Since you just sucked the soul out of me, " Jaemin began, "it's only right that I return the favour, isn't it?"

"And how do you intend to repay me?" You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, hole clenching and heart racing with the way he teased you.

Jaemin beckons you over to him and you gladly crawl to the end of the bed to get into his embrace. He dips his head in the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale. Then you feel his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear before whispering: "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't even remember his name"

"Do it then" you mutter under your breath, reciprocating hid actions and whispering into his ear. "Fuck me hard."

Jaemin lets his hand wander down to the curve of your ass, giving it a squeeze then tapping your hip signaling for you to jump which you do. He catches you easily, walking over to a wall and pressing you against the cold surface. "Ready?" He asks and you nod. Using the sheer strength of his biceps and thigh muscles, he lifts you higher. And when he lowers you down, you feel the bulbous tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. "Scream for me" And he sinks you on his cock. Fat girth stretching you wide and nice, length reaching places you're sure your husband never reached before. To Jaemin's delight, you do in fact scream his name. Your voice was airy and filled with desire, Jaemin basks in the sound of you and begins lifting you up and down on his cock, using those beautiful muscles to fuck you like a toy.

"Ah fuck!" you gasp, feeling him hit your cervix. His pace was relentless and imagining the way his muscles bulged as he brought you down on his cock over and over with no signs of tiredness had you moaning his name like a mantra.

"You're so tight" he manages to say with only a slight hint of struggle. "He doesn't take care of you he way I do, right?"

You shake your head. "N-never" God he was so deep. You felt him everywhere.

"Is that so?" Jaemin coos. His pace begins to slow down and you're able to feel every single vein in his cock along your walls. "I bet he doesn't even know how to make you moan the way I do" Once again, you shake your head.

To your dismay, he pulls his cock out of you, setting you down on your feet. "You poor thing. I have to set an example for him and he isn't even here" he says with an exaggerated sigh. "Well, " he guides you back to the bed, getting you on your hands and knees. "That's too bad isn't it. " His hand roams on the globes of your ass, sighing as he feels the smooth skin under his hot palm. "I guess he'll never get to learn just how to please a woman correctly" His hand grips his cock, giving himself a few pumps before running the top up and down your slit. "He'll continue to sit at home, fucking my wife with his mediocre skills, while I make his own wife, my queen in bed."  he slips in, and you bite your lip. "His loss. " Jaemin finishes his sentence with a hard thrust.

"I make it up to you on his behalf, alright pretty?"  His hips begin to move and you let out a content sigh. "What do you say when someone is treating you like a princess hm?" Jaemin asked with a pointed thrust.

"T-thank you" you stutter, words becoming harder to pronounce, brain going mushy. All the anger that you felt earlier, now clouded by the desire to cum.

"What was that?" his hands trail to your hair, wrapping a fistful in his palm.

"Thank you" you say again, louder this time. But Jaemin was not satisfied.

"I'm sure you have a better vocabulary than that" Now, he pulls your hair, bringing your back to his chest. "Now let me repeat again, what do you say when someone treats you this nicely?"

"Thank you for fucking me so good, Jaemin" Your sentence is rewarded with another thrust. "Thank you so much" you moan out. And finally , Jaemin is satisfied. "You're welcome, pretty"

His hips regain its momentum and he's abusing your hole with his thrusts. Jaemin focuses on chasing his orgasm now, gripping your hips tightly and leaving marks on your soft skin. "Fuck, you feel so good" he groans, throwing his head back. He feels so so good, you think. The way he gripped your hips, his seductive words, and the precise thrusts. This was singlehandedly the best sex you were having in your life. Jaemin leaves trails of wet kisses down your neck, pausing once in a while to groan into your ear. The hand that was grabbing your hair relaxes and makes its way down your clit, rubbing circles.

"Yes yes yes" you cry, feeling your stomach tighten with the incoming orgasm.

"Fuck" Jaemin spits. "Where can I cum, pretty?" He struggles to say, his own incoming orgasm messing his ability to speak.

"Inside. Please cum inside me, Jaemin. Please" The way you begged, the way you began pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts, Jaemin was going insane. His left hand wraps around your waist, holding you tighter against him.

"Fuck, I'm cumming" he moans.

"Me too"

"Cum for me, pretty. Cum on my cock" His lips find its way back to your mouth and you kiss him back. Everything felt too good to be true and finally, you come undone on him. Jaemin spills into your welcoming hole minutes later and the both of you collapse onto the bed. His soft cock slips out of you and you both start to pant.

There's a moment of silence and Jaemin gets out of bed to go to the washroom. The lack of his presence in that minute made your heart clench. The both of you just crossed the line the way your spouses did. Now what?

You don't even have time to think about the consequences when Jaemin comes back with a small wet towel.

"Was I too harsh?" he asks, voice so soft it made your heart clench and melt at the same time. You give him a small smile nd shake your head. "That was the best sex I've ever had"

He smiles in return, placing the wet cloth between your legs and cleaning all the residue.

He takes care of you well after he made you orgasm so hard on his dick. It was such a sweet moment that you contemplate if you should open your mouth and talk or bask in the ambience until the next day. The latter idea sounded so good, but you had to keep yourself grounded.

"Now what" you ask Jaemin. "We're no better than our spouses now. We had sex, they had sex... What now? Do we pretend nothing happened? Go back to our lives and act like this was all a dream?"

Jaemin is quiet. He doesn't know either.

"Do you still love him?"

You pause.

The man you once loved and dreamed of growing old with just played you like a fiddle. He drowned you in sweet lies and indulged you, all as a distraction to hide to fact he was fucking someone behind your back. How could you love someone who toyed with you like that. Despite the years of happiness he gave you, you were uncertain he would even gain your trust again.

You shake your head. "I can't love a man who sees me as an idiot in his sick game. But what about you, do you still love her?"

Jaemin smiles and looks down. But you could see the pain that he hit behind that smile. The look of uncertainty in his eyes. "This isn't the first time... " He says. "Well, it's the first time I actually know she cheated on me. Other times, I just noticed how flirty she got with the men at her office. Right after we got married,  she flaunted her ring to her friends. Now that I think of it, she wasn't just showing off to the girls. She showed off to the men too. It was like some sick game of hers. She was officially taken now, are they still up for the challenge to get her attention?" He looks back up at you. "That's how I saw it. But I was so blind. I was blinded by her sweet smile, the way she reassured me saying it was nothing. And I was a fool to believe her. "

The two of you sat there in silence, dread filling up your systems. The sex you had was great, but it was too soon to help either of you get over what happened today.

"We'll play with them too" You speak, breaking the silence. Jaemin looks at you confused and you elaborate. "We were a pawn in whatever game they're playing. Now we toy with them back. And if they catch us, so what? What are they gonna say? Oh no, how could you do this to me?" You mocked. "But they were the ones fooling around first"

"You want us to go behind their backs as payback?"

You nod.

Jaemin thinks his choices for a second. There's hesitancy in his eyes, but after what seemed like a flashback playing in his mind, he agrees.

"Let's do it"

---

The next morning, Jaemin drives you back home where you see the car you drove to your husband's office parked outside the house. He had called you over 10 times last night and you ignored every single one of them.

"Looks like he's home" you say to Jaemin.

"Want me to walk you in?" he asks and you nod, grateful.

Turning off the engine, Jaemin escorts you to the front door of your own house. The both of you pause in your steps seeing both your spouses sitting on the couch looking disheveled.

"Baby!" your husband exclaims, walking up to you with his arms open and pulling you into a tight hug. "I saw your car at the office last night. I didn't know you came over"

You stiffen, pressing the nail of your thumb into your pointer finger, suppressing your anger as you watched him act innocent.

"Where did you go? I called you so many times last night. The car was there but you were no where to be found" he says.

"I wanted to look for you last night and bumped into Jaemin.... We were about to go into the office building but I started feeling so sick so he drove me to the hospital to have a check up" You explain, looking up at him with the most sorry eyes you could do. "I'm sorry, I should've called you but I was so tired"

"I'm just glad you're okay" he sighs, kissing your head. "So what were you diagnosed with?"

"Food poisoning"

"Oh god... You need to rest, babe. Come, I'll bring you to bed" he holds onto your hand but you stay in place.

"I'm fine now, really. Don't worry" you reassure him with a smile. Then you look over at Hyejoo. "Jaemin is a really kind man. He really took care of me well last night" You shoot a look towards Jaemin who nods.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you, Nana" Hyejoo cheers, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. His body stiffens but both Hyejoo and your husband are none the wiser.

Hyejoo and Jaemin go home after a few more words and your husband insists on you staying in bed. Placing an empty bucket next to your bed, he kisses your forehead and tells you to get well soon. You only know how to smile and close your eyes.

☆

Your revenge plan was set in stone once you've fully 'healed' from your food poisoning and visiting Hyejoo's home became the normal once again. This time, they were so close to finishing their project with just the final touches left.

While the two of them were in Hyejoo's office probably screwing around, you sat on Jaemin's lap in the laundry room, mouths connected and tongues intertwine.

"Fuck... " Jaemin groans, feeling the way you rolled your hips against his Jean clad hard on. "You're driving me insane... "

"Mm... I know.. " you whisper, hand finding its way to the button of his jeans; unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to pull his cock out from his boxers. "I like to see you excited" you peck him on the lips. "Because it makes me excited too" you stroke him slowly, making sure to rub the tip of his dick with the pad of your thumb. When he throws his head back in pleasure, you latch your lips on his neck, kissing and licking the skin. Your pace begins to quicken and the hold Jaemin has on your hips grows tighter as he came closer. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth chewing on his bottom lip and finally a groan escaping his cherry red lips as he came into your hand.

You drag a finger on the underside of his sensitive and twitching dick, collecting the cum that was dripping from the tip. When his eyes open again and meet yours, you stick your tongue out, dragging the cum covered finger down your tongue, letting him watch you swallow it.

"You're the devil" he mumbles. Your lips curl up. "I know"

Getting up, Jaemin presses his lips against your, holding you in his arms and turning your around until your butt hits the dryer. When he pulls away from your lips, he takes a step back to yank your pants down before making you face the dryer and bending you over.

"I'll never get tired of this ass" he says, giving it a slap. "But most of all" he traces his finger along your underwear, pulling it to the side as his eyes glimmer at the sight of your wet cunt. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of this pussy" He sheathes himself into your hole in one go, grabbing onto your hips with a good pace. He thrusts deep into you with every move of his hips, pounding you just right.

"Don't stop,  don't stop, don't stop" you repeat, gripping onto the dryer, feeling him reach all the right spots. For a man who was fucking you just to get revenge on his cheating wife, he sure was putting passion into it, putting effort into moving his hips with the right pace to make you feel good.

"I'm gonna cum. Are you close, pretty?"

You nod ferociously.

The thrusts of his hips begin to slow and he places a hand under your right thigh, lifting it up against the dryer and splitting you open. He readjusts his stance, pulls his cock out all the way to the tip before shoving it back in. The force of his thrust leaves your mouth agaped in a silent moan. His hips are relentless, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the small room along with pants and groans.

"Fuck!" Jaemin groans, spilling into your hole with his warm load. He doesn't even let himself bask in his orgasm, instead overstimulating himself until he feels you clench around his dick and feels you release all over him.

When he releases your leg, you turn around to face him. He's panting, neck and face gleaming with sweat. You feel a clench in your heart as you examine his soft features, feeling your chest thump with excitement when your eyes meet his and he's smiling at you so sweetly. It makes you smile too. Then you're in your arms, cheek pressed against his chest, feeling him shift around before you feel a small handkerchief being dabbed on your forehead, wiping away your sweat.

"Don't worry, it's clean" Jaemin reassures. You don't even answer, only nodding and enjoying the moment. At that moment, nothing felt better than being in Jaemin's arms.

---

It was the last night you would ever possibly be going over to Jaemin's place. According to your husband, all they had to do was do a final review and this would all be over. Hyejoo was extra pouty today, claiming that she enjoyed working with your husband so much over the course of this project. You couldn't stand the look on her face. The way she pouted and whined about how this all was gonna be over. But you were sad this was about to end too. The future after tonight looking blurry, not exactly sure what would happen next. Your plan so far was to divorce your husband and that was about it. But first, you wanted to get caught; see their reaction and whatever stupid excuse they would say after.

In the kitchen, you and Jaemin prepared a fruit salad to end the night. A tray of strawberries, watermelon and other berries were placed on the counter. The taste of watermelon was sweet against your tongue but not as sweet as the feeling of Jaemin abusing your cunt with his fingers. Your knees buckled, trying to keep your stance but it was too hard when every drag of his fingers in your gummy walls felt like euphoria. "What do you think they'll say when they catch us?" Jaemin asks between kisses. "How would your husband feel, seeing the way his wife crumbles in pleasure by another man. And even worse, when he sees you enjoy me more than him"

You bite your lip, slick leaking around Jaemin's fingers, struggling to even answer him. "I hope he feels embarrassed."

Lost in the way his fingers played with your sensitive spot, the two of you fail to hear the sounds of footsteps entering the kitchen, only being brought back down to earth when Hyejoo screams. "What the fuck!"

The worse part is, Jaemin doesn't stop. Even as the embarrassment begins to sleep through your skin, you say nothing either. It only takes a moment until your legs give out and you release on his fingers. Jaemin brings his lips to his mouth, sucking his fingers and humming in delight before acknowledging the extra presence in the kitchen. "Oh, I didn't see you guys there"

You fix yourself up, putting on a cold demeanor when you lock eyes with your husband who's eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

Hyejoo is humiliated by Jaemin's words. The way he acted like he didn't even notice her despite her scream.

"What the fuck are you doing, Jaemin?" Hyejoo screams again, eyes turning red and wet with tears.

The male shrugs. "Just having fun" he pauses before he locks eyes with your husband instead. "Like the two of you were doing"

Hyejoo takes a good second to react. No words are said but she storms up to Jaemin ready to slap him, but her attempt fails miserably when he catches her wrist before it can even land on his cheek. He pulls in her and you wince, feeling a sting in your heart as you watch.

He leans into her neck, taking a whiff.

"That's not my cologne.. " he mutters, pulling away. Then he brings her wrist in front of him to examine. "And your wedding ring is gone... Where is it, baby" The once sweet pet name now sounded like poison. The words slicing through Hyejoo's victimized face and you notice her gulp.

"You smell like a man, your wedding ring is gone and another man's lips is swollen. Now tell me exactly what you've been doing, Hyejoo." Jaemin stated firmly. "For how many nights under my own roof have you been screwing with another man?"

"You're wrong!" she exclaims. "You prick, I told you we were working"

And as if things couldn't get even more humiliating for the poor girl, Jaemin sneaks a hand under his skirt. But rather than looking embarrassed to be touched with an audience, Hyejoo instead looks defeated.

Jaemin's jaw clenches at the affirmation.

"You're wet. Why."

"Fine!" she finally breaks. "I cheated on you"

"Hyejoo-" your husband interferes and your own jaw clenches at the way he looked at her, ready to shield her from all this humiliation with a look in his eyes that you've never seen before towards you.

"You're just so boring!" she admits, voice cracking and you didn't know if it was because she was guilty or because she's angry she got caught and the fun was all over. "I needed something new. Something to excite me. I needed a thrill."

"So you screwed behind my back because it was... exciting?"

She looks down, and nods.

Jaemin pulls away and takes a step back away from her.

"Get out"

Hyejoo's head shoots up. "W-what?" her eyes are glimmering with tears and her lips trembling.

"I said get out" Jaemin looks over at Sejun. "You too. Everyone but Y/n, get out of my house" He points towards the door.

"But Jaemin.. "

"Now!" He finally breaks, yelling. Hyejoo bites her lips,  stating at Jaemin with rage as if he was being the asshole her. She grabs her purse on the couch and gets ahold of your husband's hand to storm out.

Your legs move quick before your mind even registers it, running to your husband and pulling him out of Hyejoo's grip.

"Y/n I-" his head whips to the side when you slap him right across the face with all the strength you could muster. In front of you was the man you dreamt about for years, the man you trusted with your whole heart. Yet he says nothing to you, letting his mistress drag him out of the house without sparing a moment for you.

"I trusted you" you speak, voice failing you as it cracks and a rush of years fill your eyes faster than your like. "And you play me like a stupid fool for weeks... "

The stupid man says nothing, not even bothering to look back at you and apologize.

"Let's go! " Hyejoo yanks him away and the idiot walks away like you were nothing to him.

The tears flow freely from your eyes now, and you quickly head back into the house before either of them see you in your weakest moment.

When the door slams shut behind you, you're on your knees sobbing into your palm like you did all those nights ago. You hoped that by getting caught with Jaemin, your husband would feel all the pain you felt. But you were terribly wrong. He was nothing but a heartless prick who only liked sex.

And you were the idiot who still chased after him.

Jaemin walks up to your crying figure, taking your arm and pulling you into a tight hug.

"It's okay.. " he coos. He wants to be the strong one, but his own voice is cracking and tears are pouring from his eyes. The both of you were weal and vulnerable.

"I hate this so much" you stutter in between tears. "I still can't believe he did all that. Everything up till now, he's been what I thought was the greatest person of all, but at the end, he discards me like I'm nothing to him. And all for a woman he met months ago" you grip onto Jaemin's shirt. "I want to kill him"

"Don't waste your energy like that" Jaemin says. "We move on from them starting from now. You can cry all you want, as long as you get it all out and you forget that son of a bitch"

Pulling away from Jaemin, you look at him and the way his eyes watered despite his neutral face. Even with how badly hurt he was, he was still trying to be the source of comfort.

A sweet soul like him didn't deserve any of this.

And neither did you.

You and Jaemin sit on the floor for what felt like an hour. At some point, Jaemin moved the two of you towards the back of the couch so that he could rest against something as you leaned against his chest, playing with his fingers.

The storm is your heart had began to fade, now replaced by feeling of being lost and confused.

You and Jaemin were only together just to mess with your cheating partners. And as you lay against him, feeling the way his chest rose and fell everytime he breathed, you felt more comfort than you ever felt with your ex. His presence made you feel heard and protected, recalling all the times he listened as you yapped about a silly topic that your ex didn't always pay attention to. Jaemin made you feel like everything you said was equally as important. He always prioritized your feelings and was focused on comforting you even when he himself had been cheated on.

"Jaemin?" you begin, the man behind you humming in acknowledgement. "tonight has been awful. We just broke up with our long term partners, words have been exchanged, feelings have been hurt. We've been sitting on this hardwood floor for ages without saying a word... Doesn't that feel weird to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know why I feel so safe and happy when I'm with you, Jaemin. Even before all this revenge fucking or whatever... every moment I spent with you, eating pastries or challenging you to a cooking duel, I felt more alive than I've ever been with my husband. Fuck, I feel so warm and safe in your arms in a way that's so unfamiliar yet inviting. Sure I felt a sense of comfort when I was in a position like this with my ex but this... " you glance down at your hands that were still fiddling with his. "This feels different"

He's quiet and his silence fills you with fread, wondering if your words just ended something else for the second time tonight. Your worries are silenced when Jaemin wraps his arm around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"I know what you mean" he sighs, eyes falling shut as a wave of guilt crashes over him. "I don't feel any better that I engaged in this just because my own wife was cheating on me as well. It felt like such a guilty pleasure knowing you made my love feel younger and fresh again before I even knew she was cheating. I felt like shit to even think and feel that way, but after all that has happened... I don't regret it at all"

Your head turns, leaving your lips and his inches apart.

"Is this all just a guilty pleasure?"

He stops to think, then nods. "It is"

Your heart tightens.

"But it's a guilty pleasure I'm willing to explore and learn more about. And maybe in the end, it won't be a guilty pleasure anymore. But something else instead"

"May I? " you ask, lips closing in on his after his confession. A feeling of warmth seeps through your chest, a feeling you haven't felt since the day your ex asked you to be his girlfriend. It was a sense of excitement at the adventure that laid ahead, ready to face to new future ahead of you. All you could think about was how you wanted to learn about the man behind you, and when you do, you wanted to share your love with him.

Jaemin hums, a small smile spreading across his cheeks. "You may"

Lips colliding, this kiss this time is soft and gentle. He takes his time to pour his soul into the kiss, focusing on the way you move your lips against his with passion and not lust. He memorizes everything. The way you feel, the way you brushed your tongue against his, the way you held onto his hand, everything.

Even after the toughest night of his life, Jaemin is more sure about whatever this was. He had a lot to learn about you now. What you did in your spare time, what you do when your sad. He wants to start something fresh and with how he feels around you, the way you make him feel joy, he was willing to push through all this pain if it meant he'll be happier than he ever was in the end. He wanted to be happy with you.

[sincerelyneo]

fifteen minutes | n.jm

“i can do a lot in fifteen minutes, only gonna take two to make you finish”

💿now playing: 15 minutes by sabrina carpenter

❯ summary: Jaemin is supposed to be on stage soon—not in his dressing room with his girlfriend. He’s on a time crunch. Good thing you can do a lot in fifteen minutes.

❯ pairings: idol!jaemin x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, just pure smut

❯ words: 2.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni, hand jobs, mirror kink, premature ejaculation, switch!jaemin, oral sex (male receiving), neediness, cum swallowing, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just quickie smut

When Jaemin first asked you to join him on tour this year, it sounded like such a great idea. He pitched it in a way he knew you couldn’t turn down: like a fun bucketlist, a silly scavenger hunt where the two of you would fuck in every city on the tour. You weren’t thinking straight at the time—just liked the sound of not being away from your boyfriend for months at a time. And sex. Lots of it.

But you only made it through two stops on the U.S. leg before things started going south. First was LA, then Oakland—both in California, which Jaemin insisted didn’t need separate hookups because they were the same state. But then one skipped stop turned into two, then five, then the entire Latin America leg went without so much as a quickie. At this point, you swear the two of you were having more phone sex when he was away than actual sex now that you’re here.

But it’s not his fault. It’s not yours, either. Tour is just so…mentally exhausting. There’s so much to do, so little time. Honestly, it hurts you, seeing how disconnected he becomes when he’s constantly on the go. It’s like his body shifts into auto-pilot, just moving through the motions: rehearsal, soundcheck, makeup, performance, sleep, repeat. He never misses cuddles before bed, though, he’s soft like that. 

And now, as you sit in his dressing room, watching his makeup artist roll her kit out, you can feel all that tension, all the frustration—yours and his—simmering in the air. You need him. You want him. You want him to relax, to take himself off auto-pilot and let his mind be here, be present, with you, in Europe, in London, at the last stop of the tour.

You get up from the couch and settle behind him as he looks into the full-length mirror. Your arms snake around his waist, and you rest your chin on his shoulder, pressing soft, feather-light kisses down his neck.

“You look pretty,” you whisper against his creamy skin, your breath so hot, so tantalizing, it forces him suck in his own sharp inhale.

“Baby…” he groans, “I have to be on stage in fifteen minutes.”

Exactly, you think. He’s a force on stage, filled with so much energy. You know that if you don’t have him now, you might not get him until you’re back home.

“Good thing I can do a lot in fifteen minutes.”

Your hand runs down the front of his stage outfit, careful not to crease anything and send his stylist into a frenzy—well, more of a frenzy than she's already going to be in for what you have planned. Jaemin watches the motion through the mirror, his nostrils flaring as his dark brown eyes lock onto your hands gliding down his body. He’s needed this, needed you, the whole tour. And now, he’s going to stand there and let you take whatever you want from him.

Your fingers fumble with his belt buckle, snapping it open just enough to toy with his zipper and palm the growing bulge in his briefs.

“Babyyy…” he groans again, voice strained, almost like it’s a struggle. And maybe it is, Jaemin hates (loves) your teasing. “We can’t—We shouldn’t.”

“You don’t want to?” you ask, glancing at him through the mirror. You flutter your lashes at him so innocently, as if you’re not currently rubbing his hard, needy cock through the thin black material. 

“Fuck…” His head falls back for a moment, but he’s quick to lift it again, his eyes needing to find you again in the mirror. He can’t look away, especially not now when you're teasing him so deliberately. “Baby, you know I want to, but fuck—fifteen minutes isn’t enough time for me to fuck you the way I want.”

You smile knowingly. You get it. When Jaemin fucks, he fucks intentionally. He likes to take his time, kissing every part of you—your wrists, your forearms, your stomach, your hips, your thighs, your ankles. All of it, like pieces of art only he gets to appreciate. He likes that you’re his, wants to remember how lucky he is to be the only one savouring every inch of you. He’s patient, thoughtful. Fifteen minutes wouldn’t give him the time to indulge like he usually does.

That’s probably why he hasn’t tried fucking you much during the tour; but right now, you don’t want careful. You want quick. You want messy. You want to make him feel good, even if it’s just for a short time.

“I never said you had to do anything,” you murmur, peppering another kiss to his neck, your voice low. “I said I can do a lot in fifteen minutes. So, please, let me make you feel good, Jaem.”

He bites his lip, conflicted. Jaemin knows he shouldn’t, really knows he shouldn’t, but the desire coursing through him is too much to ignore. He wants this, so badly. That’s why he’s letting you help him slide his briefs down, just enough. You don’t take them all the way off—time’s not on your side—but just enough to let his hard, eager cock spring free. His tip is  flushed and angry, glistening with pre-cum, thick and veiny and standing to attention.

“Shit, Jaem, this must fucking ache, baby.” 

You wrap your fingers around his cock, and he shudders the second you touch him—so sensitive. Jaemin’s eyes stay locked on yours in the mirror, pupils blown wide as he watches you slowly start to stroke him. But there’s no time for slow, no time for teasing. You have fifteen minutes to make him cum, and you will.

“God, Y/N… shit—please,” Jaemin breathes, his voice wrecked. “You’re fucking killing me.”

You just smile, sly and dirty, as you keep working him over. He’s like putty in your hand, his hips rolling forward, chasing the friction, so desperate, so fragile, so pent up. Your fingers twist and stroke, applying just the right pressure to make his whole body shudder—abs tightening, breath hitching. It’s mesmerizing. And it’s even hotter knowing he’s watching it all unfold in the mirror, eyes hazy, lips parted, completely undone by you.

You lean in, your lips just inches from his ear, and whisper, “You’re so hard for me, Jaem. It’s so pretty.”

His eyes flutter shut. He loves being pretty for you, loves being perfect when he can, loves when you tell him. His head falls back as he surrenders to the sensation, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. And you can feel it—the way his body tenses, a different kind of tension building deep inside him.

You pick up the pace, stroking him faster, more deliberate. Long, languid strokes, your grip firm but careful, paying extra attention to the head—just the way he likes it, the way you know will get him there to make use of the time. 

You can’t help but smirk when his hips start moving more frantically, short breaths turning into whimpers, pleads—desperate, breathy begging.

“Think your stylist will be pissed if you cum on these pants?” you tease, easing the pace. “They look expensive… maybe I should stop—”

“Don’t…” pant, “You…” pant, “Dare.”

You wouldn’t—of course not. You don’t want to stop, but you’re not a menace either. You don’t want him getting into any trouble because of you. So, you do the only thing that makes sense.

You drop to your knees.

He barely has a second to process it before your mouth is on him—warm, wet, and devastating. The moment your lips wrap around his cock, sucking him deep, his vision dots, pleasure attacking him so hard it nearly knocks the breath from his lungs.

His arm shoots out, palm slamming against the mirror. “Oh, fuck… shit—baby, I’m gonna—fuck!”

You don’t slow, don’t falter—your head bobs relentlessly, determination driving you. Jaemin’s cock throbs with every glide, every flick of your tongue, and when you glance up at him—God, he’s beautiful like this. Completely wrecked.

His sweet mouth turned sinful, spilling filthy curses between gasping breaths. His glossy eyes, dilated and cloudy, drink in the sight of you. Pink lips part, and tremble, because he’s so utterly lost in the satisfaction you’re giving him. Until finally, his knees buckle, his hand slips from the mirror, and with a broken moan, he grips your head, holding you in place as his hips stutter—shattering—while he spills down your throat.

You don’t waste a drop—you take it all. The first spurt hits the depths of your throat, warm and salty, and you swallow without hesitation. Jaemin’s body jerks, shuddering through the aftershocks, broken moans filling the air. Slowly, you pull back, his cock slipping from your mouth, leaving a thin trail of cum on your lips. You want to lick them clean, let your tongue dart out to catch every last drop—but he doesn’t let you. 

His thumb gently brushes your lips, gathering up the rest of his release that you couldn’t swallow. He presses it to your mouth, rubbing slow and teasing, until you part your lips for him. You take his thumb into your mouth, sucking it clean, making a show of licking up every last drop, relishing the taste. At least you didn’t get anything on his clothes—that would have been a nightmare.

When he finally pulls his thumb from your mouth, he sighs, his body relaxing as he comes down from the high. He reaches out to pull you to your feet, and you smile up at him.

“Look at that,” you tease, nodding toward the small blue clock on the wall. “Two whole minutes.”

He groans, “Ugh… don’t remind me.”

You laugh, teasing, “Told you, I can do a lot in fifteen minutes. It’s a gift.”

Almost like a switch has been flipped, your words spark something wolfish in his eyes, and before you can process anything else, he’s pressing his mouth into yours, pushing you back against the cool glass of the mirror.

You gasp, breathless, “Jaem—what are you—”

“Making the most of my fucking fifteen minutes. I have thirteen left, no?”

“But I thought you were in a hurry—”

He cuts you off, his grip tightening around you as he presses you harder into the surface. “Put your fucking hands on the mirror, Y/N, and lift up your dress. I’m fucking you.”

You don’t protest, because it’s his turn now. His turn to wreck you, to possess you, to scramble your mind until you’re nothing but a puddle beneath him. You place your hands on the mirror, feeling the cool glass beneath your palms. It contrasts sharply with Jaemin’s firm, heated grip on your hips and his fingers that are digging into your skin. 

Making the most of his seconds, Jaemin slams into you from behind, his cock driving deep inside your pussy, movements fast and urgent. You squirm, suddenly reminded of the fact that you're in his dressing room, just a few feet away from the backstage crew. Quickly, you pull one hand away from the mirror to cover your mouth and stifle the sounds he’s about to work out of you.

Jaemin fucks into you fast. It makes you breathless, the glass fogging up around your hand as he pounds and pounds. The rhythm is frantic, the strokes short and sharp. The sound of your bodies slapping together echoes through the room, filthy, wet smacks that are almost obscene.

The two of you have never had sex like this before—though you’re definitely not complaining. It’s messy. It’s rushed. It’s wild. And it feels so damn good. His hands are everywhere—gripping your breasts, your ass, your thighs through rustled fabric. His time may be counting down, but he still needs to touch every inch of you as he moves inside you. 

“Look at how well you take me, baby,” he breathes, his teeth grazing your ear, nipping at the lobe. “Look at how perfect we fit together. Made for each other, yeah?”

You nod eagerly, your breath hitching as you whisper, “Yes.”

“Exactly,” he groans, “So damn perfect for each other. You’re gonna make me cum again, baby.”

The mirror shows a distorted reflection of Jaemin's face, twisted in pure ecstasy. His eyes are shut, mouth parted in a silent scream as he fucks you relentlessly like an animal. You feel the sweat dripping down his face, the tension rippling through his body as he chases his release.

“Not yet,” you beg, “Please, Jaem, not yet. We have six more minutes.”

He doesn’t know why he can’t hold himself back now—he usually enjoys long, drawn-out sex. It’s his favourite. But everything feels too overwhelming, too good. You, here, on tour, with the clock ticking, the stakes, it all turns him on for no reason at all. But nothing—and he means nothing—gets him harder than the thought of pleasing you. 

So, he holds back, gritting his teeth as he fucks you raw, resisting the urge to be greedy. Lets himself soak in the feeling of your warm, wet walls pulling him in instead.

And damn, it’s worth it—always so damn worth it to watch you melt beneath him, needing him to hold you up as your body trembles. Your orgasm hits you hard, making your pussy clench around him desperately. Jaemin is only human, and he can’t hold on any longer, not with you pulsing around him. 

He groans with a final thrust of his own. “Fuck—”

Looks like you both can do a lot in fifteen minutes.

[mochidoie]

diet pepsi.

listen to - diet pepsi by addison rae na jaemin x reader wc - 10k genre - fluff and hotness, shy!reader, flirty!jaemin, suggestive warnings - shirtless jaemin x4, mentions of a "nude" pic, partying/drinking, a makeout session, aloootttt of sensual tension! a/n - HERE IT IS! thank you all so much for the hype over the preview. i hope yall enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it:) comments and feedback are always appreciated!! i read all of them! update: i still can't move on from that jaemin pic.

Accidentally walking in on your best friend's hot housemate half naked with a towel around his waist in the bathroom was never in your plans. But maybe, it was in his?

“Why do you guys have so much Diet Pepsi in your fridge?” There is a slight cadence of disgust in your voice, judgment for the most part, knowing damn well no one drinks Pepsi – let alone Diet Pepsi. 

Mark shuts the fridge door that you’ve left idly open as you rummage through the kitchen cabinets for a snack. “It was a late night purchase. The store ran out of all the good stuff.”

“Now, it’s left taking up space.” You snarl, picking through opened bags of crackers, chips and candy that aren’t sealed properly. “You guys never have good snacks.” Giving up, you make your way upstairs toward the only bathroom in this entire shared house.

“Well, last time I checked, you don’t live here.” Mark hollers from the kitchen, a bit of sass in his statement. “Yet you’re here all the time!”

“You’re overjoyed I’m always here!” Your body leans over the railing of the stairs, calling out to your best friend in an unnecessarily booming voice and a light giggle at the end of your sentence.

Mark doesn’t respond and you’re deep in the hallway in search for the bathroom that is shared between four college men. Although you’re solely Mark’s best friend, the other three guys have welcomed you into their house as they would their own. Honestly speaking, you’re only rambunctiously annoying when you’re just around Mark. His housemates know you as his shy and sweet friend. 

It’s hard for you to open up to others, despite these people being equally as close to Mark as you are. There is just not enough common ground for you to relate to them, as nice as they are when you’re at their house.

Jeno is probably the most similar to you, a man of few words and a smile that resembles a kind puppy. He doesn’t contribute much to the conversation, but he is always laughing at their shared jokes and silly antics. Haechan is the most different from you, playful and Mark’s nightmare at times. Lastly, there’s Jaemin, a man who you’ve found yourself stealing glimpses of whenever he is near. 

Your heart leaps and twirls at any mention of his name, his whereabouts, him. Though, your crush on Jaemin will never come to light. You only let yourself admire from afar, a man as hot and charming as he is already has an entourage waiting on him. And Mark would never let you live it down that you’re practically drooling over his housemate. 

So as you find yourself in front of the bathroom door, you don’t hear the shuffling on the other side. You mindlessly turn the knob and open to reveal Jaemin, shirtless with a towel low around his waist.  

He doesn’t even flinch at the sudden exposure, clearly engulfed in taking a mirror picture. Both of his arms hold up his soft pink phone, his biceps flexing at the simple position. His broad, wide shoulders are on display and all you see is his bare silky skin. You’re gawking, anyone can see at a mile away, hungry eyes tracing the outline of his toned chest and chiseled abs. 

When he finally acknowledges your presence, a big toothy grin appears on his face. Your name rolls off his tongue excitedly, “you’re right. I am overjoyed you’re here.” His lower register catches you off guard and something inside of you spikes at its rumble.

Jaemin watches as you try to find your words, tripping over your own tongue. He drinks up how your eyes bounce between his face and his bare upper body, lost in his canvas. 

“Sorry!” You quickly shut the door, odd that you’re the one embarrassed when he is the one who got walked in on. Running down the stairs, you slam right into Mark, causing him to fall back onto the couch.

“Whoa! Are you in a rush or something?” Mark groans. His eyes fixate on your flustered expression. “What happened?”

You’re deciding whether or not you should lie to him, committed to not exposing and embarrassing yourself even further. “Just bumped into Jaemin. Does he normally not lock the bathroom door?”

There is a small quiver in your voice, but you try your best to remain nonchalant and calm. Mark raises a curious eyebrow, a shaky grin grows on his lips. You can’t even imagine all the wild and inappropriate thoughts spinning in this college boy’s head.

“That’s weird. He’s usually good about that stuff.” He snickers, “What did you see?”

“Get your head out of the gutter.” You lightly slap the back of his head, but feel heat spread across the tips of your ears and run its way down to your cheeks. “I didn’t see anything.”

“Bummer, bet you wanted to.” Mark jokes, a fit of giggles erupting from his stomach. 

You roll your eyes and proclaim loudly, “I have no interest in Jaemin.” Liar. The image of his hot body still hasn’t left your mind. It’s catastrophic. Crossing your arms, you plop onto the sofa next to your best friend. 

Right on cue, another voice chimes in. Coming down the stairs, Jaemin dances his hand on the railing. His muscular arms catches your immediate attention as he flaunts around in a tight white tank, his other hand in the pocket of his gray sweats. “Damn, that really hurts my ego, (y/n), especially after you’ve seen me naked just now.” 

Nonetheless, he doesn’t look offended. Instead, a sweet smirk curves upward on his perfect face. You swallow hard, bashful and ashamed yet again that Jaemin continues to ruin you. 

Mark is laughing his hardest, but you don’t hear him. Your heart pounds in your ears, rapidly and loudly. “You weren’t naked, Jaem. Don’t give Mark any ideas.”

Jaemin chuckles, tucking in his chin shyly. His charming smile is subtle, but dazzling. You’re absolutely positive you have tiny stars swimming in your eyes just looking at him. He makes his way past you two, toward the kitchen to grab a Diet Pepsi out of the fridge.

“I’m sorry, I’ll remember to lock the door next time.” He apologizes, taking a sip of his drink and grimacing at the taste.

“What were you even doing in there?” Leave it to Mark to be such a curious cat. You nudge him in the rib and he winces noisily. “I want to know what you saw! You guys are acting so suspicious.” He sends a glare at you.

Jaemin comes up behind the couch. He leans over, handing Mark his phone. On display is the picture you witnessed Jaemin take a few minutes ago and the frontal view is even better than what you saw from the side. Your sharp intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaemin, but he doesn’t call it out. 

The picture could be considered a nude, even if it cuts right at his waistline. It’s so scandalous and he doesn’t seem the slightest sheepish about it. If anything, he and Mark are grinning together at Jaemin’s godly body, like two bros appreciating each other’s muscles. 

“Yo, Na Jaemin! This is so crazy, look at that chest work.” Mark giddily hits at Jaemin’s chest, displaying a weird manly affection for his housemate. “All those hours at the gym are paying off. Are you posting this?” 

Jaemin shakes his head. “It’s only meant for special eyes.” He glimpses briefly over at you, but you avert contact quickly. You think about all the people the boys talk about during their drunk kickbacks, but Jaemin is incredibly secretive. I don’t kiss and tell, is what he always says when the guys try to probe him with investigative questions.

You normally try to pretend like it doesn’t bother you, always helping him by telling the boys to mind their own business. Nonetheless, you’re probably the only person in the room who wants to know the most about his endeavors. 

“This is a nude?!” Mark jumps up and throws the phone back at Jaemin, rubbing his eyes in hopes to rid the picture out of his memory. “I love you dude, but I’m not sure if I want to know you’re posing for nudes in our bathroom.”

Jaemin laughs, “C’mon, Mark. You don’t have to have such a big reaction, just say you want me to send it to you too.” Mark shakes his head aggressively and you’re suffocating at the thought that you walked in on Jaemin taking a nude. A swirl of nasty thoughts circle your mind and you gulp at the desires that fill your lungs.

You get up so suddenly that Jaemin and Mark fall silent and wait for your next move. “I’m going home.” You announce, gaze stuck to the ground and fists balled at your side. “I’ll see you later, Mark.” 

“Alright, do you need a ride–”

“No, I’ll just walk. I need to take a breather.” Your legs are moving before anyone can follow after you. You didn’t know what came over you, but spending another second in that room with them meant increasing your chances of saying something regrettable.

The cold breeze of the night cools your hot skin and fresh air clears your mind. It is still early in the evening when you check the time, but it is realistically going to take you 30 minutes to walk back home. You didn’t think it through, frankly, but at least your head is clear from all the dirty thoughts about Jaemin.

Though, you wonder how whoever receives his photo would react. Would they combust the same way you did? Would they be left speechless at such a glorious man? Special eyes. It must be nice to have Jaemin interested in you. 

When you’re left with your own reflection and about a quarter into your walk, a car pulls up slowly next to you on the curb. Initially, you’re cautious as to the random vehicle approaching you so intently. 

However, the driver’s window rolls down and Jaemin calls your name. “It’s dangerous for you to walk. I’ll take you home.”

That annoying, rhythmic sound of your heart starts up again. Normally, Mark is the one who drives you to and back, but even you didn’t think you could stand being in the car with him as he would endlessly tease you about Jaemin. 

“That’s alright. I’m almost there-”

Jaemin gets out of the car and walks around to open the passenger door for you, “it wasn’t a polite offer. I’m taking you home.” His stern tone causes you to comply and enter his car without another attempt to protest.

When he enters the car, the tension in the atmosphere is heavy and thick. He turns off the engine and you can hear the quietness of the night again. You swallow the spit pooling at the back of your throat, unsure how to talk to him. This is the first time you two have been alone together, just you and him in one confined space. You’re usually with Mark when you’re with the other guys.

“I’m actually really sorry, again. I hope you don’t feel weird about seeing me like that.” Your heart crumbles at the genuinity in his apology. Your abrupt leave probably had him thinking he made you feel uncomfortable.

“Jaemin, it’s fine. I already forgot what you looked like and it’s your house. You should feel comfortable doing what you want there.” You’re downplaying all the emotions rising in your throat, but you can’t help feeling guilty at the pout on his glossy lips.

“Mark said that you’re not used to stuff like that. Is that true? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?” Jaemin looks over at you, a hand resting over the wheel. 

You look away, his sultry stare being too much for you to handle. “Mark doesn’t know anything about what I’m used to. I don’t talk about that stuff with him.” 

It’s the truth. You’ve had your fair share of hook ups, drunk makeout sessions at the club, and a previous relationship. So, you wouldn’t say you’re as innocent as Mark always tries to make you out to be to others. However, you’re not throwing yourself at just anyone and aren’t as open to sharing your experiences to people, Mark being one. 

Jaemin nods, acknowledging everything you’re saying. “I noticed you’re usually quiet when all of us talk about our sexual experiences.” 

“You are too, though.” You mumble under your breath, twiddling your thumbs.

“I’m too distracted watching how shy you get at the mention of Haechan getting head.” This statement, paired with his deep voice, is glass shattering. Something drops in your stomach, your feelings and thoughts colliding together into something unidentifiable.

Jaemin looks so good under the streetlamp. Even in the darkness, you can still see the twinkle in his alluring gaze and how much charm he exudes with a simple toothy smile. The desire to kiss him is so magnetic, you can feel yourself breaking at any moment.

“You notice me?” Your brain has lost control over the words that spill from your lips. Your lustful and romantic feelings go into overdrive, saying things you’ve never dared to say.

It is his turn to send you a confused look, as if it is the most ridiculous question you could have asked. “Of course I do. It’s hard not to. You… have such an effect on me. I talk about it all the time to Jeno and Haechan.” 

This is shocking news to you. You’ve always been under the impression that the other three had no interest or a second thought about you, let alone Jaemin of all people. At the end of the day, you’re just Mark’s best friend and you’re only really there because of him. His housemates are respectful and don’t linger for too long when you’re around, so it never occurred to you that would be a topic in their conversations.

You stutter and approach slowly, “what do you talk about?” 

Jaemin chuckles, shaking his head and starts the car. “Can’t tell you. Just know that I like it when you’re around.” He starts driving you home and you can feel the conversation fleeting. But you don’t want to stop, you want to peel him layer by layer until he is at his core. 

You two drive for some time in silence. When he approaches your neighborhood, he hits you with one sudden question. “Do you have feelings for Mark?” This is the one of many times he has surprised you tonight.

“No!” You refute excessively. “We’re strictly friends. He is nowhere near my type.” It is a question you get pretty often, given that you two are attached at the hip. Nonetheless, the thought of you and Mark together romantically makes you gag. He is nearly your brother at this point. 

Jaemin raises a curious brow, “what is your type?” 

He pulls into your driveway and you’re presented with a window of opportunity. You dance with the possibility that Jaemin could actually be yours. After tonight, he definitely confirmed that he notices you. 

Jaemin peers over with innocent eyes and a soft smile. His elbow rests on the middle console and his large hands hold the bottom of the steering wheel. And you can’t believe that after all this time, he has been looking at you with such an endearing gaze. Gathering all the courage you have left, you clear your throat. 

“Guys like you.” You say, rather breathlessly. You see his pupils dilate and his lips part at the sudden flirtatious confidence. It’s like a lightbulb switches on inside his head. For once, you have left him speechless. “Goodnight, Jaemin. Thank you for bringing me home.” 

You exit his car, but he is quick to follow. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door.” You almost make out the slight shakiness in his voice and you’re giggling at how dazed you’ve gotten him.

Approaching your door, Jaemin turns your cheek to face him. His hand remains hot against your jaw and you think in any second, he might lean down and kiss you. He’d kiss you to the point where you’d turn to goo right at his feet. 

Your knees grow weak under his hooded stare, “goodnight (y/n). I’ll let Mark know that I got you back safe and sound.” With that, his hand drops and he starts taking a few steps backwards toward his car. Disappointment is evident in your reaction.

Your shaky hands unlock the front door and you look back to see Jaemin leaning against his car waiting patiently for you to enter. When you get inside, your back slides down against the door, heart beating fast, and you wallow in the emptiness that Jaemin has left you with. 

The only noise filling the air is the sound of his car pulling out of the driveway. Then, your phone buzzes in your pocket and the notification causes your jaw to drop. 

Na Jaemin (Mark’s Housemate): 1 Attachment

“Holy shit.” Jaemin’s nude flashes back at you and you’re taking everything in. The events earlier today come flooding back into your memory. Lustful desires cause your stomach to stir, tracing the lines of his collarbones and following the protruding vein on his shoulder.  

Na Jaemin (Mark’s Housemate): for your special eyes xx

Na Jaemin (Mark’s Housemate): still have no interest in me?

Blinking at the thread of texts, your head is empty and a lump forms in your throat. Na Jaemin, the man that you are. 

mark lee-ave me alone: Party tonight, you coming????

mark lee-ave me alone: It’s been like almost two weeks since we hung out, do i need to file a missing person’s report? 

you: i’ve got finals 

mark lee-ave me alone: you finished finals we literally share calendar schedules��� why u avoiding me

you: why are you guys alcoholics 

mark lee-ave me alone: sounds good ! see u tn hehe

Tossing your phone onto your bed, you groan into your pillow. It has been a while since you went over, let alone seen Mark. After the moment you had with Jaemin, you aren’t entirely sure if you’re ready to face him again. You had nearly fainted from all the emotions he put you through that day. 

He also didn’t reply to your text, but then again, you didn’t give him much to work with. This is Na Jaemin you’re talking to and the last thing you want to do is to scare him away. So, the best response you came up with was the blushing emoji and embarrassment hit you all over again.

Nonetheless, you went back to that photo every night since and its effects remain the same every time. Widened eyes, hot cheeks, butterflies in your lower abdomen, wild thoughts. It has gotten to the point where your phone suggested making it his contact picture, causing the bashfulness to catch up to you.

Your phone buzzes again and you’re rolling over to expect another text from Mark. Instead, your heart rubs at your chest at the appearance of Jaemin’s name on your screen.

Na Jaemin (Mark’s Housemate): can’t wait to see you tn

Mark must’ve told them about you coming to the party. All it takes is one simple text and your feet are kicking in the air. Excitement replaces the dread that you were feeling before and you’re jumping out of bed to find a cute outfit.

When you finally get to the house, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation bubbles inside of you. While you’ve looked forward to seeing Jaemin before, this time is completely different. He unlocked something that you can no longer control. 

Mark lets you in, slightly buzzed, and the house is already packed with drunk people. Haechan is on aux as per usual with his perfectly curated party playlist. Jeno has a large bottle in his hand, pouring a line of shots on the kitchen island like a skilled bartender. 

You’re unconsciously scanning the room for Jaemin, Mark’s words going in one ear and out the other. “It’s quite a turnout. We didn’t expect so many people would show!”

When you take a quick look around, many are unfamiliar faces. Most of these had to be friends of his housemates, knowing how small Mark keeps his circle. 

“What is this party even for?” Yelling over the loud music, you swear there will be ringing in your ears tomorrow morning.

“We’re celebrating the end of the semester!” Mark cheers, excitedly with a big goofy grin. “The guys mostly wanted an excuse to get their friends together and have some fun.”

“That’s surprisingly more wholesome than I thought.” You nod, noting the pretty girls moving their hips in the dark and crowds of guys surrounding the keg. “Very fun.” You say sarcastically and follow Mark through the maze of hot bodies.

The kitchen is unrecognizable. Half empty glass pitchers and plastic cups line the sticky marble counters, they were definitely not getting their rent deposit back with all the tarnish.

It wasn’t your first time at one of their parties, but it had been a long time since they’ve thrown something of this scale. It surprised you, mostly because everyone who lived here seemed so laid back that you didn’t expect the large magnitude that they could draw in.

“Did you want something to drink?” Mark grabs a beer from the fridge, politely squeezing his way through those leaning against the appliances. 

You shake your head, “not right now.” He lifts a curious brow at your bottom lip between your teeth. Could he tell you were anxiously waiting for someone? 

“So, where have you been lately?” Your mind is extremely overstimulated with everything happening around you, and of course, Mark decides to have an open conversation in the middle of his densely packed kitchen area.

Shrugging, you play it off like everything is normal. “Needed a break from you. You bitched about me coming over all the time, so I chilled out.”

Mark takes a swig, clearly not believing you. “That’s the real reason why? There isn’t anything else regarding someone who lives here?”

He is prying, digging, scheming. You can see it in his smug face when he knows he hit a soft spot. “Do you want to tell me? Because it seems like there’s something going on that you won’t tell me.”

“It’s just interesting.” He shrugs, “Jaemin insisted on going after you the night you walked out. Care to tell me what happened?” Mark giggles to himself like a high school girl sharing secrets. Rolling your eyes, the twitch of your lips curve into a small grin. 

“Is that so out of his character?” You cross your arms, “Jaemin has always been a gentleman unlike you, who let me walk home in the dark when you know it takes me 30 minutes.” 

Your best friend throws his hands up in defense, “I was going to go! Like I said, Jaemin beat me to it. He just grabbed his keys off the hook and told me he got it.” 

“After you told him I felt uncomfortable?” Anger rises in your voice. Quite surely, you sound more offended than you actually are. Nonetheless, that explanation from Mark did irk you a bit when Jaemin had told you.

Mark looks sheepishly at you and takes a timid sip. “Well, didn’t you? Isn’t that why you stormed off?! When have you ever talked about nudes, or having sex for that matter?” 

Scoffing, you couldn’t believe him. Your face gets warm from the spotlight he has you under. It’s complete disbelief that fuels your next line and you shout over the music, “That doesn’t mean I don’t have sex. I have sex!” 

“Who is having sex?” The baritone voice sneaks up from behind you and a hot hand touches the small of your lower back. You seize up at the physical intimacy, turning around to see Jaemin looking as charming as ever. The pure visual of him has hearts in your eyes.

Mark laughs, not noticing how Jaemin snakes his hand around and rests it on your hip. He pulls you a bit closer so that your body leans against his strong arm. “We were just talking about what happened between you two a couple of weeks ago.”

Jaemin nods, as if he understands the situation completely without much context. He looks down at you and smiles sweetly, “did something happen between us?”

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, barely paying attention to Mark, who you’ve also tuned out of this conversation. The quiver in your voice is obvious and Jaemin’s eyes gleam upon hearing your sudden shyness. “No. You just drove me home.” 

“Yeah, you heard it here first.” Jaemin switches to an excited and peppy demeanor, as if all is well and you two aren’t acting extremely suspicious.

Though, Mark is incredibly oblivious so he isn’t hard to fool. He doesn’t press on and gets pulled off to the side by Haechan to fix one of the speakers, leaving you and Jaemin alone among the drunken party goers. Your throat feels like it's closing in on itself, nervousness building your stomach yet again.

Jaemin swiftly turns you to face him fully, both hands holding your arms as he admires how you’ve dressed up tonight. “I’ve always liked this shirt on you. How have you been? I noticed you haven’t come around lately.”

“I’ve been busy.” You’re as quiet as a mouse, but Jaemin hears you loud and clear. You’re extremely conscious of the two of you openly together for everyone to watch or listen in, but Jaemin’s attention is solely on you.

“Busy avoiding me?” The way he asks is lighthearted. He isn’t trying to instigate the way Mark was, it's playful and unserious, even if the question did hold some genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know.” It’s easier for you to be truthful with Jaemin compared to Mark. After that brief chat in his car, you felt like you could be honest with him as he was with you. As if somehow, that one pivotal night changed the dynamic of your nonexistent friendship completely. 

You feel connected to him. Seen by him. “If I did something wrong to make you want to avoid me, you gotta tell me.” Jaemin begins, sincerity heavy in his round eyes and tone. 

However, you stop him from continuing. “There is nothing wrong with what you did. I liked it, alot. I avoided coming because you make me feel nervous and shy.” Perhaps you are revealing too much too soon, but you can’t help it with the way Jaemin looks at you. 

He grins, “you’ve always been nervous and shy around me. Those feelings never stopped you from coming around before.” 

You’re stunned at how observant he actually is. All this time, you thought you did a good job at keeping those feelings internal. Jaemin and you never shared an extensive conversation before that night, but you didn’t completely ignore him whenever he was in the room.

Whenever you two would be physically near each other, you’d strike up small talk about classes and ask how he’s been – even if you had to build up the courage to say something.

You would always greet him back when he would arrive home or if he appeared from upstairs. There would’ve been no way he could’ve seen how your hands fidgeted or hear your voice shake or when you’d avert your gaze. Right?

But he did. He saw through it all. And it hit you that Jaemin had really been observing you this entire time, beyond a simple notice. “Sure, they didn’t before. This time, things feel different between us.”  “I like when you talk about there being an us.” Jaemin beams, “it’s cute. We never got to have that all this time.” He resembles a happy kid on Christmas day, opening a present that he had been good for all year. It’s hopeful and quite touching that he thought about growing closer to you. 

“Do you feel like it’s different between us?” You ask timidly. The feeling of possible rejection lingers in the back of your heart. This could all be a misunderstanding and you read it all wrong. 

He ponders for a bit, eyes darting to the ceiling and then back at you. “Yes, but not entirely. I think you’ve gotten more comfortable opening up to me, but my feelings toward you haven’t changed.”

Hadn’t Jaemin brought it up, you really didn’t know that your heart opened up as much as it did for him. It was all natural, seamless. He didn’t have to speedrun questions like an investigator to get you to talk, everything just flowed. The second part of his answer did prompt more curiosity rather than something definitive.

How does he feel about you?

As you debated a follow up question, the two of you get interrupted by a small group of people pulling at Jaemin’s shoulder. He is brought back to the swarm of a party and you’re retreating into the background. “Na Jaemin! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 

Before he could excuse himself, they whisk him away deep into the dark sea of dancing individuals. Sighing, you’re left with the same emptiness you felt two weeks ago. Mark comes stumbling back, the beer in his hand now nearly finished.

“Are you drunk off of a Bud Light?” You snicker at your friend’s wobbly entrance. Your heart is heavy in your chest, but you let these emotions subside. 

He takes a final drink, “I’m just feeling a little loose. I think it’s finally time you get some.” 

You give in, especially now that Jaemin has reeled you in and left you without any clarity. You need a drink to calm all the nerves that he lit up, ease all the pent up tension he created. 

“Only if it’s not what you’re having.” Mark’s head swishes heavily on his shoulders, peering around to find the man with the alcohol supply. He gestures to Jeno from the opposite side of the room for two shots and you laugh at their silly roleplay.

Jeno walks over and greets you with a smile, realizing he didn’t see you come in this whole time. He pours a dangerous amount of Vodka that overflows out of the small glass. 

“Dude! You suck as a bartender, you’re fired!” Mark giggles drunkenly at Jeno’s heavy hand and clinks the shot glasses. “Best friend shots!” He squeals happily at you.

You oblige, holding your breath for the intake of alcohol. Wincing at the taste, you down the shot as best as you can. It’s dreadful, but somehow your muscles relax and your mind clears from the running thoughts of Jaemin. 

“Another one!” Jeno cheers. This time, he prepares three shots and joins in on the random celebratory atmosphere that Mark established. 

The responsible side is signaling alarm bells to slow down, but the side intoxicated with disruptive feelings of Jaemin is silencing them all. So you think, one more shot won’t hurt.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed. Twenty minutes? An hour? Maybe even two hours. It feels late and early all at the same time. At this point, you’re experiencing a good buzz after the last few rounds of shots with Jeno and Mark.

The liquid courage has you asking for Jaemin’s whereabouts. 

“I think he’s upstairs in the bathroom with someone.” Mark slurs his words, clearly not knowing the magnitude of this information. Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, a ton of bricks hitting you. You’ve tuned out the booming music and Mark’s words play on a loop.

“When did you see him go up with someone?” You ask again, not wanting to believe Mark’s words. Could it have been one of the people from the group that stole him away? An old fling. A friend with benefits. An ex-lover. An admirer. The list unravels itself like a never ending scroll. 

He shrugs, it’s obvious this man has no actual idea what is going on or how much it's affecting you. “Check for yourself.” The edge of sass in his tone has you feeling challenged. Mark always gets a bit snarky and direct whenever he’s intoxicated.

You’re going back and forth with yourself – stay or find him. If you see him making out with someone else, then what? It would actually hurt you and you only have your own blossoming feelings to blame. If he is alone, then what? Will he finally tell you how he feels about you? Will he finally kiss you? The desire for that is enough drive for you.

And so you go. 

Heading up the stairs, the mess of the party downstairs fades into the background. Your palms grow sweaty as you walk down the long hallway toward the looming bathroom. Light flows through the bottom crack of the door. Not knowing what to expect, you’re just hoping what Mark said isn’t true. 

Your hand holds onto the shiny knob, hesitant to get your ego bruised at the sight of Jaemin with another person. Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

Jaemin is in the midst of zipping up his jeans, the belt around his waist unbuckled. However, he is alone and oddly enough, the sound of the running toilet brings an ounce of reassurance for you. He looks up and your grip relaxes on the knob. 

Upon seeing your figure, Jaemin shakes his head with a sneaky smirk. He goes about washing his hands as normal and says, “we really need to stop meeting like this.”

“Maybe you should try locking the door for once.” 

“I do. Somehow, it’s always unlocked when you’re around.” He sounds so innocent lying through his teeth. Jaemin wipes his hands on the hand towel and leans against the door frame, “now are you actually going to use the bathroom or did you know I’d be here waiting for you?”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words form. Jaemin’s gaze eats you up again, taking in your attire and dolled up look once more. His playful smile disappears and is replaced with a thin line, his jaw tightening. “So pretty.” His low voice whispers, eyes never leaving your lips. 

Right then and there, the want to kiss him surges throughout your body. There is nothing stopping you from diving into Jaemin, letting him have you utterly and completely. No consequences filter through your head, no other thoughts besides what his lips taste like. It could be the alcohol, but you’re fully drunk off his sultry stare and his feathering touches on your wrist. 

He leans in toward you, head tilting as he inches closer to your face. Closing your eyes, you await the kiss you’ve longed for. Blood pumping in your veins and heart doing somersaults in your chest. 

“Did you drink?” You quickly open your eyes at his question and see Jaemin pulling back. The familiar feeling of disappointment floods your body too well. 

“I took a few shots.” You’re biting the inside of your cheek, trying to not look embarrassed at how badly you wanted him to kiss you. The smell of alcohol is still hot on your breath and you’re even surprised at how composed you’ve managed to be. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to kiss you like this.” Jaemin’s tone is sweet, but firm. Although you were nowhere near black out drunk, you understood his sentiments. He wanted to kiss you without any chance of regret. He wants to do it right. 

“I blame Mark for this.” A heavy sigh falls at the end of your sentence. You roll your eyes at the sound of Mark’s voice from downstairs. Regardless of your disappointment, your heart is still burning at how he called you sweetheart. You didn’t know how good it would sound until it left his mouth. 

In a blink of an eye, he quickly kisses your cheek. “That will have to do for now.” Jaemin smiles, wide and toothy.

You don’t have enough time to process, still stuck at the small pet name, as he whisks you back down to join everyone at the party. Your eyes widen, cheeks grow hot, butterflies grow in your lower abdomen, and wild thoughts swirl in your head. All of which didn’t need Jaemin’s nude for these effects to arise. 

“You know, Jaemin has started asking about you a lot.” Mark looks up from his laptop, taking a break from his strenuous essay. It had been a week after the party and everything fell right back into routine. You’d show up to their house as if you never stopped coming around. 

The only difference is that you’re not here to see Mark anymore. You’re here for Jaemin. As clingy and corny as that seemed, you left every day happy that you got to talk to him. The two of you had been texting since the night of the party, mostly brief conversations about your day, but he never forgets to wish you a good morning. 

Whenever you’re at the house, Jaemin would join you and Mark when he’d come home. Initially, Mark didn’t seem to notice that his housemate would linger for as long as you’d be here or that Jaemin would purposefully sit close to you, or those longing stares you two would share across the table. 

It wasn’t until you were drinking water and Jaemin had casually asked for a sip. Then, it clicked. Mark jumped, he pointed fingers, he accused. All of which, you two blinked innocently at him in confusion, Jaemin’s bottom lip touching the rim of your bottle. 

Jaemin and you denied everything Mark tried to throw at you two, given that in all actuality, you two are only getting to know each other. He still hasn’t kissed you on the lips. He still hasn’t really spent time with you alone again, though you are incredibly nervous at that potential idea coming to fruition. 

After the night of the party, you’ve been wondering and waiting for his move. It did bother you the first few days, but his sweet texts always had a grin growing on your face. Jaemin played a very long game. 

“Really? Like what?” You try to hide your undying curiosity. Not looking up from your screen, you pretend to browse through empty tabs to seem like you are too busy to care. But deep down, it has been eating away at you wondering how Jaemin feels.

Mark smirks, “tell me what has been going on between you two and then I’ll tell you.” 

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at his deal. “That just sounds like you’re making shit up.” 

“So there is something going on between you two!” His voice grows louder, a bit more accusatorial. His eyes narrow, “you know I expected secrets from him, but not from you! You’re my best friend.” Mark’s sad pout tugs at your heartstrings.

A sigh escapes your lips and you give him your full attention. It didn’t feel good having to keep things from him, but you thought to wait until something actually happened before saying anything. Nonetheless, since you can’t stand seeing your best friend sad, you decide to just come clean from the beginning. 

“He sent you that nude!?” Mark gasps as you reveal the night Jaemin drove you home. The more you talk about your encounters with Jaemin and your thought process, the more you realize how much you like him. Beyond attraction, beyond his chivalry. A flower has grown from the seed he watered.  

“No wonder why there is this weird tension whenever we’re all together. It’s because you two are literally eye fucking each other across the room.” Mark grumbles, but he lets you finish telling your piece. From the nude to the conversation in the kitchen to the kiss on the cheek. He now knows everything you’ve experienced and how you’re wrapped around Jaemin’s finger.

A part of you prepares for the teasing and the gross kissing noises, but your best friend just nods silently. His stare is blank, like he is trying to process the everything and nothing you’ve been through. Growing nervous, you shift uncomfortably on the couch. 

“Jaemin asked me about your favorite things. He told me that it’s something that would come in handy one day.” Mark clears his throat and can barely look you in the eye, almost embarrassed to share such an intimate question his friend asked about you. “He also asked if I had feelings for you.”

Your jaw drops, heart falling to the pit of your stomach. This is unexplored terrain – the two of you never touched on the topic of potentially becoming romantic. It had always just felt mutually platonic. Sitting up quickly, you lean closer toward him.

He sends a weird stare at your sudden attentive figure. “I don’t, first of all, don’t get too excited here.” 

The anticipation leaves your system, falling back against the cushion and going back to your homework. “I thought you were going to reveal some crazy backstory with the way you’re acting.”

Mark laughs, mockingly. “We’re nearly siblings. I’ve seen every bad part of you, your charm doesn’t work on me.” 

“Well, the feeling is mutual!” You ruffle his hair, messing it up between your fingers as he tries to push you off. A fit of giggles fill the room that the two of you don’t hear the front door open.

When the door shuts, you glance over to see Jaemin stripping his shirt. Cursing under your breath, your eyes remain stuck on all his bare skin. His whole chest and abs glisten with droplets of sweat, veins popping from whatever pump he got from the gym. His track pants hang low, the waistband of his briefs peeking through. 

Mark laughs at how you’re practically frozen over Jaemin. Jaemin looks your way and his familiar, sweet smile greets you. “Hey cutie, did you finish your project?” 

He walks over, his shirt thrown over his broad shoulders. Heat travels across your cheeks, you swear the temperature in the room went up several degrees. You’re batting your eyelashes, but averting any attention from his defined figure as he closes the space between you two. 

Jaemin’s heart swells at the sight of your shy antics. He can’t imagine anyone as cute as you, so reactive to every little thing he does. He doesn’t even see Mark in the room, all he wants to pay attention to is you. 

“Almost. Mark has been distracting.” Maybe your voice naturally gets airy around him, Jaemin just makes you want to twirl your hair and smile all the time. He takes a seat on the armrest next to you. As he crosses his arms, his biceps make their appearance once again – all voluptuous and strong. 

“Oh? How so?” He cocks a curious brow, finally taking a glance over at his housemate. Mark snickers at how differently you react to Jaemin’s casual demeanor. For all he has known, this is how Jaemin is. He’ll walk around shirtless, even pants less, as if it is any normal day. But since Mark kindly warns him that you’re going to be coming around, he complies. 

Now, Jaemin just wants to drive you into delirium.

Your mind is absolutely wiped, there is nothing more distracting than a half naked Jaemin – this you knew too well. As you tremble over your words, Mark saves the day by falsely admitting how he’s been trying to chat with you so he didn’t have to do his essay. 

“Ah, chatterbox. I’m jealous.” Jaemin gets up and spins on his heel, heading toward the stairs. Your body unknowingly leans toward his fleeting figure, a pout tugging at the corner of your lips.

Jaemin’s finger taps along the railing, drawing a trail as he walks up each step. “I wish I got to distract you from your project, talk to you for hours.” 

You’re freaking out internally, trying to decipher if he had just spit out an innuendo or if he genuinely meant it. You fight the urge to completely yell at the top of your lungs how much you’d love him to. Mark also bites back the scream that threatens to escape, not believing what he is a witness to. 

“You can!” Your chirpy, forced tone nearly cracks from your nervousness. “Join us after your shower.” Even if you wanted him alone, you’re willing to settle for moments with Mark in them.

“I’ll come, don’t worry.” No flirtation, no smug smirks, Jaemin gently reassures you that he’ll come back for you. And while the heavy tension in the air dissipates, you’re finding your heart to throb at his thoughtfulness. 

“Dude, you’re so whipped for him.” Mark giggles and you’re throwing a decorative pillow at his chest, very much embarrassed. “I should let you guys be alone, would you want that?”

The second Mark proposes his question, your heart shakes at the possibility of Jaemin and you finally alone again for an extended period of time. It is a nerve wrecking thought, you can feel your pulse racing. Not that you had avoided such a potential situation, but you didn’t really think you would get the chance to. Now that your good friend knows everything, he has the power to help you out. 

“I do.” You’re admitting so much of your vulnerability that Mark actually softens at your tiny request. He nods and packs up his things without any hesitation. “But where are you going to go?” You didn’t want to seem like you were kicking out your friend from his own house.

He brushes off your guilty tone, “don’t worry. There’s a study session happening in 15 minutes for one of my classes.” With that, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and takes a moment to look at you. His facial expression is hard to decipher. 

You stand and he holds your shoulders, “no more secrets.” Mark says with glossy eyes and a small smile. “And use protection.” He laughs, breaking the almost sweet and serious moment you two rarely share. You push him off and roll your eyes, though secretly grateful that you have Mark in your life.

It’s agonizing as you wait for Jaemin to come out of the shower, being completely alone with your hypotheticals and expectations eating away at you. There’s no way you have the capacity right now to focus on your project and homework. Jaemin just consumed every bit of you.

When he finally walks down the stairs, fully clothed and hair freshly blow dried, you pretend again that you’re too busy to notice. He heads toward the kitchen to open a can of Diet Pepsi and makes his way back. Jaemin snuggles up next to you, arm draped around the back of your side of the couch and you’re drowning in the scent of his body wash.

“Mark left?” He sips, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his jaw tightening with each gulp. You’re lost in his seeping aura, wondering how the fuck he looks so good doing something so simple. 

Clearing your throat, you place your laptop on the coffee table and face up at him. He meets your starry eyes and it takes so much in you to not break away. “Study session.” 

Jaemin nods knowingly, leaning forward to also neatly set down his can. Almost immediately, the atmosphere in the room shifts from light hearted to heavy sensual tension. Not that either one of you expected anything to happen, but just being in each other’s presence is suffocating and intoxicating all at once.

Now that you’re finally alone with him, you can’t help all the nerves and flips in your stomach from happening. “I kept you waiting then.” His voice is raspy, causing it to sound deeper than normal. 

Shaking your head, you say the first thing your heart thinks of. “I’m always willing to wait for you.” Jaemin lifts an eyebrow at your statement, noting the shock in your face as soon as it filled the air. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you onto his lap and you’re maneuvering your legs to straddle him. 

This intimate position has your heart springing out of your chest, thumping so aggressively that you swear he can feel it against his own. His hands are politely placed on your back and he peers up at you with a sultry stare. You’re holding your breath and unsure where to place your hands, losing your wits already at how things have escalated. 

“Is this alright with you? Am I doing too much?” He cautiously asks, ready to set you back down to where he had selfishly pulled you from. 

“This,” Scrambling, tripping, cat’s got your tongue! Jaemin doesn’t realize how your mind has been lit with flames all from this one swift movement. “This is fine. I like this.”

He smirks, “you like being on top of me?” When he asks such a nasty question, you’re too bashful to play along. Jaemin chuckles, “you’re driving me crazy right now.” 

You are? It’s quite unbelievable that any of this has an effect on him. Perhaps he is better at holding back his reactive facial expressions, but Jaemin seems so laid back and unphased. “Me? I’ve barely said more than a few sentences.” 

“It’s not about the quantity, you can say anything to me and I’d be smitten for you.” Jaemin taps your nose, in a loving and endearing way. You’re getting a side of him you’ve never really seen before – this head over heels, heart eyed fool. A part of you craves more of this, feeling special at how he only has eyes for you.

The other part is shocked that you’re even experiencing any of this, how did you get so lucky?

“Jaem, are you going to finally tell me how you feel about me?” When you say his name, his nonchalant attitude almost falters. His ears perk up, eyes alert and a tighter grip on the hem of your shirt. “How did we get here?” 

He purses his lips, contemplating long and hard about how he should go about explaining himself. Your voice is more stern, he can tell you’ve been wanting to get an answer to this for a while.

“I like you.” Jaemin says it so easily, those words roll off of his tongue effortlessly that it surprises himself.

“Since when?” You don’t mean to sound so interrogative, but all this time, this didn’t make any sense to you. Maybe your own lovey eyes blinded you from seeing his feelings or that your own self esteem halted you from believing someone like him could like you back. Nevertheless, this all came about so suddenly for you.

A small smile grows on his face as he thinks back to the first time he saw you. Your timid introduction and you glued to Mark’s side, but none of that could take away from how pretty you looked.

And when he first heard you laugh, like really laugh, he swore he needed to hear it again, and again, and again. Sooner or later, he found your shyness irresistibly adorable and he only wanted to interact with you more, but was unsure about your relationship with Mark.

Ultimately, Jaemin decided to keep his distance because you and Mark seemed more than close. However, the more he pulled away, the more you filled his empty thoughts and daydreams.

Whenever you came around, he found himself happier just upon seeing you for a brief second and hearing your silly anecdotes to Mark all the way from his room. If all you two had exchanged was a small greeting, Jaemin would be satisfied. 

Until the night you stayed for one of their drunk kickbacks, and something inside of him unlocked. A new sense of desire? The introduction of lust and curiosity.

Jaemin noted the way you’d squirm, dig yourself deeper into the cushions, hide your face in your shirt. Your reactions to his friends’ sexual adventures were typical, full of gasps and slight embarrassment, but your eyes were more than telling of your piqued interest. The one thing that he hated was that you never openly shared a single thing, even when asked. 

So, that meant he didn’t either. In a more respectful sense, he normally doesn’t dive into the nitty details as much as his housemates do, but you were such a mysterious person. He wanted to keep himself that way as well, making him as alluring as you were. The art of not knowing, just makes you want to know more. 

And when you would stand up for him against the other boys, that boldness only made you more attractive. Maybe you didn’t want to know about his personal endeavors, regardless, you respected his privacy and were willing to break out of your shell for him.

What other layers of you has he not seen? That caused him to wonder how much he could push you, what other reactions he could draw out of you, and gauge if you had any interest in him. 

In between your nervous stammers and long stares, Jaemin had some inkling that you might be into him. However, he couldn’t tell if that was just his ego deluding his judgment or if it was the actual truth. 

He had something less drastic in mind than you walking in on him in the bathroom. But, he thought if he waited and hesitated as much as he did before, there would never really be another chance. If you were disinterested, it would’ve been a lighthearted mistake and brief awkwardness. If you were interested, then it opens the door metaphorically as well. 

So in the spur of the moment, as he heard your voice and footsteps down the hallway, he quickly unlocked the door. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest as he tried to keep his phone steady.

Act natural. Be cool. Be confident.

He just hoped you couldn’t see right through his desperate act. And when you opened the door and everything that followed after, it was enough to wash away any doubt he had before. 

After dropping you off, he decided right then and there that he was going to pursue you. 

“Would you believe me if I told you it was since the day I met you?” His voice is soft and quiet. Jaemin brushes a few strands of hair out of your face, gently tucking it behind your ear. “I was looking forward to your presence without realizing it. I’d tell Haechan and Jeno how I was excited to hear your voice, even if it wasn’t speaking to me.” 

He could be such a romantic, though this didn’t come too much of a shock to you. You couldn’t believe that you’d be the recipient of it one day.  “Since the day we met. That feels like ages ago.” Your eyes wander off, trying to regain the distant memory. 

You could barely remember the day Mark introduced you to his housemates. It was such a blurry scene, mostly because you were so painstakingly nervous so you tried to bury it in the depths of your mind. The only thing you remember was the tight grip you had on Mark’s sleeve and Jaemin’s gorgeous smile. 

“Why didn’t you try approaching me? Be my friend, get to know me back then?” You ask, a small edge in your tone. Instead of months of googly, heart eyed stares, you two could’ve been acquainted much earlier. Your relationship would’ve been so far along, milestones would’ve already been hit. A thousand kisses would’ve already been exchanged.

Jaemin is well aware of his lack of action, “I wasn’t sure about you and Mark. I didn’t want to overstep and initially, I couldn’t tell if you even wanted to be around anyone besides him.” Now his questions to both you and Mark made sense.

He wanted to be absolutely certain that there would be no conflict. No room for anyone else. No blurred lines. Jaemin wanted to do it right.

“So, me walking in on you in the bathroom… was that an honest mistake?” As all the dots connected and all the lines matched up, you’re replaying all the moments that led up to this point.

He can see the gears turning in your beautiful head and laughs, “like I said, somehow, it’s always unlocked when you’re around.” 

Rolling your eyes, you settle with your own conclusion that perhaps it was in his plans all along to fluster the fuck out of you. As much as you hate to admit it, it worked. Hook, line and sinker. 

“How do you feel?” Jaemin asks, as his knuckles rub lovingly against your cheek. His big hand slides toward your jawline and he firmly cups your face, a quick flicker from your eyes to your lips. 

Intense. That is how you feel. At any second, you are a volcano ready to erupt. All these pent up emotions – lust, fondness, frustration – burst at your seams. All of which is unbeknownst to Jaemin, despite being the very spark of it.

“I feel like you should kiss me now.” Spoken confidently, Jaemin is shocked at your response. You didn’t have to ask him twice though, as he pulled you into him without missing a beat. 

The kiss is slow and cautious, like he is holding back from doing too much, taking too much. He guides your hands onto his collarbones and across his toned chest. Underneath his thin shirt, you feel how strong and defined he is. You’re hesitant at first, unaware of how much you could feel.

Jaemin could sense it, pausing in between your small kisses to take off his shirt. You’re wide eyed, fully shocked at his chiseled body right in front of you. It’s just like how you remembered from his photo, except now it’s not through a tiny phone screen. All on display, Jaemin takes your shaky hands and places them delicately on his broad shoulders.

“Touch me.” It’s all he has to say until your lips are connected again. His hot skin against your fingertips as you’re dragging them down his biceps, moving along all of his exposed terrain. 

Adrenaline fills your system and you can’t even begin to stop all the lustful and romantic feelings that bubble across your chest. So, you fervently kiss him back to signal just how much you want it, how much you wish to be kissed by him.

Jaemin loses it between your sweet touches and your eagerness, both hands now holding your face steady for him to deepen the kiss. The feverish glide of his lips on yours is something unforgettable. It’s inimitable, a passion that solely exists for the two of you. Kissing Jaemin is blissful, like nothing matters more than being here lips locked and hands on his bare chest.

Kissing Jaemin also ruined you. Moving forward, you’ll crave this feeling forever. How are you supposed to kiss anyone else in this world now? How will you ever want to kiss anyone else knowing you’ve experienced this?

You two make out until condensation forms on the outside of his Diet Pepsi can. There is a lingering taste of the soda on his tongue; a taste you once hated so much is now something you can’t get enough of. 

When you’re both finally pulling away, your lips are puffy and Jaemin is catching his breath. He could feel his heart bursting at the sight of your disheveled hair and pouty lips. You’re the prettiest baby he’s ever seen.

He’s staring at you with tiny stars in his eyes, ones that reflect your own. And he breaks the silence, “now we can finally tell Mark we kissed.” A sweet, kind smile appears at the end of his sentence. 

You’re laughing, and Jaemin’s heart flutters knowing he is the reason behind that melodic sound he loves hearing so much. 

“Mark is going to love hearing about this.”

[foxy-kitsune]

oh i'm down bad for him like it's actually not funny anymore

[nerdlvr]

✩ BDILF ; noun (boyfriend's dad i'd like to fuck)

(MDNI)

smut , dilf jaemin x reader , boyfriend's dad jaemin , age gap , both consenting adults btw , manhandling , pussy eating , juicy pussy , degrading kink , mocking , jaemin talking in third person , raw no lube no condom , lots of dirty talk , petnames , he loves laughing at u , choking/gaggin? , insane backshots , he's better than ur bf , requested here ! , lmk if i missed anything

"you smell like sex."

you shivered as you felt him get close to you, his breath soft against your ear.

"w-what are you talking about?" your grip on the counter was tight, knuckles turning white as you held your breath.

his low chuckle rang throughout the kitchen, his hands gently running along your hair, "just saying-" his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging lightly so your head tilted back, "if he just fucked you, i don't understand why you're out here getting your own water."

he let go of your hair, instead reaching up towards the open cabinet to grab the cup you had forgotten you were reaching for.

his soft bulge pressed against your ass, the thin shorts you had on leaving nothing to the imagination.

the clink of the cup placed in front of you made you flinch, your attention back on the cup of water you had come out to get.

you watched as his veiny hand gripped the glass, the other reaching to turn on the faucet, collecting the cold water into the cup.

he turned towards you, cup in hand, "drink." he held the cold glass to your lips, his smile soft as his eyes met yours.

he reached his free hand out to cup under your chin, collecting any drops that threatened to spill as you slowly drank the water.

your eyes never left his as the water finished, his thumb quickly replacing the rim of the glass as he swiped across your lips to dry the area.

"good girl. now head to bed- it's late."

.

your body tingled as you walked back into your boyfriend's room, hands rubbing at your bare arms to ease the goosebumps that had formed on your skin.

"baby?" you called out to your boyfriend, his soft snores being the only response.

great. you sat on the edge of the bed, thighs slightly pressing together as you bit your lip. what to do, what to do?

you had planned to come back to your boyfriend, asking him to fuck you again, hopefully making you cum this time, as you thought of his insanely attractive dad calling you his good girl.

but instead he was fast asleep, lips slightly twitching as he entered dreamland. if he were awake, would he even be able to fulfill your sick little fantasy? the simple answer was no. you had to do something.

.

and that's how you ended up in front of mr. na's door, you voice softly calling out for him.

your breath caught in your throat as the door cracked open, the tall dark haired man peeking through, "oh- it's you-" he opened the door further.

you gulped as you scanned his body, a tight black tank top hugging his body, his cock lazily bobbing in his pajama pants.

your eyes moved up to meet his, "uh- i was going to-"

"you know you can just knock anytime."

you nodded curtly, hands coming behind your back to fidget with your shorts, "y-yeah, i just didn't wanna wake-" you turned your head towards across the hall.

he hummed in understanding a small smirk playing on his lips, "is that right? then come in-" he reached towards your shoulder, warm hand grazing along your arm, "you're gonna catch a cold out there."

.

you stood awkwardly in the center of his room, watching as he let out a grunt, positioning himself comfortably on his desk chair.

his arms spread open, fingers gesturing for you to approach him, "come here princess, tell me what's wrong."

you shuffled towards him, stopping to stand in between his legs, "i don't know why i came actually- i was just- just-" your voice drifted off as his hands came up to rub against your thighs, fingers gently pulling at the fabric of your shorts.

he looked up at you, eyes soft, "is it cold in my son's room?"

your hand came up to play with your lip, a small nod confirming his suspicions.

"you think mr. na can help you get warm?" his hands grazed the bottom of your ass, a slight ache building in between your legs.

you let out a breath, chest rising and falling with nerves, "yes mr. na."

you tried to back away, his arm caging you in as he stood up suddenly, his chest pressed against yours, "sweet girl, he has no idea how to treat you- sit."

he turned you towards his chair, hands softly pushing you down, "it's okay, i'll treat you right hm? will you let me?"

your eyes followed him as he kneeled in front of you, his hands never leaving your thighs, "words baby- use your words."

your breath shuddered as he planted a kiss to your knee, his lips soft and warm, "y-yes mr. na."

he smiled into the next kiss, right in the middle of your thigh, "good girl, lets take these off then okay?" he reached for the band of your shorts, chuckling softly as your hips rose up to help him.

"listen so well my baby-" he kissed along your thighs as he slid your panties down with your shorts, your legs instinctively spreading open in front of him.

"oh wow-" he reached forward to run his finger through your folds, a soft moan leaving his lips as your juices dripped onto the leather seat, "can't believe that fool's over there sleeping when this little pussy is begging to be fucked-"

you whined softly, hips rutting up against his teasing finger, "please mr. na-"

he scooted closer towards your core, breath fanning against your core as he examined you. two of his fingers moved up to spread your folds, juices coating your entire cunt.

"wanna get fucked by your boyfriend's dad that much princess? only mr. na can give you what you want hm?" his smirk was wide as he taunted you, a gentle finger running along your core as he waited for your reply.

"y-yes mr. na- want you to- to- mmnh."

his tongue lapped at your clit, his soft chuckle vibrating along your core as he tasted you. he wasn't like your boyfriend at all, taking his time with your cunt as if it were his last task on earth.

his movements were smooth, almost painfully slow as he swirled his tongue around your heat, sucking up any of your juices that threatened to spill.

you looked down to watch him, his eyes were shut, mouth fully engulfing your core as he brought his arms up to wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer towards his mouth.

"m-mister- oh!"

his tongue moved down to prod at your entrance, a low groan leaving his lips as you gushed on his tongue.

"s-stop i'm gonna-"

he kissed up your core, lips coated in your juices as he stopped to smile up at you, "gonna cum baby? isn't that the point?"

you blushed deeply, hands coming up to cover your face as you shook your head.

"no? why don't you wanna cum angel hm?"

he kissed up your tummy, hands coming up to pull at your wrists so he could see your face.

you bit your lips as you looked at his flushed cheeks, eyes trailing down to his now hard bulge in his pants, "i-"

"oh i see- dirty girls wants to come on nana's cock right?"

you nodded shyly, glossy eyes and pouty lips looking up at the man you had once seen as your father in law, "want your cock so bad mr. na."

he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you off the seat, "whatever princess wants, she gets."

his kisses were persistent, on your lips, your nose, your cheeks, your slick still wet on his lips as he placed them on your skin.

"you're so beautiful-" you turned your face away, feeling your cheeks begin the heat up, "but i need you face down for me- need to fuck this pussy properly."

he gripped your waist softly, turning you around to press you against his bed, your ass sticking up in the air.

"shit- so perfect baby."

you heard him rustle behind you, his pants long forgotten on the floor as he struggled to pull his shirt over his head.

he bundled the shirt in his hand, leaning forward to hold it out in front of your face, "open-" you complied, jaw adjusting uncomfortably as he pressed the fabric into your mouth. "wouldn't want my poor son to hear his girlfriend getting the best dick in her life now would we?"

you grunted against his shirt, eyes squeezing shut as he sunk into your heat, each inch of his length more painful than the last.

"easyy sweet girl-" he ran his hand along your spine, slightly easing your tense figure, "how can i fuck this pretty pussy if you're so damn tight? won't even let me push all the way in."

he wasn't all the way in?

he chuckled as your worried eyes turned to meet his, a soft smile on his lips, "just a little more, i know you can do it- look."

you gasped as he quickly snapped his hips against your ass, your stomach clenching at the sudden fullness.

"see-" he rocked his hips against yours, a mocking laugh leaving his lips as your loud moan was muffled against the fabric of his shirt, "pussy was made for me baby."

all these years you had thought your boyfriend had gotten his horrible bed skills from his father, a sad case of hereditary bad dick, but you were thankfully proven wrong by his insanely big dicked dad, his sharp thrusts almost too good.

"awe poor baby cant even speak- 'ts too much for you hm?" he laughed to himself, hand reaching down to push his shirt farther into your mouth.

"next time when he's not here, i'm gonna have the whole fucking neighborhood hear how much of a slut you are for your boyfriend's daddy."his chuckle rang in your ears as he pistoned his hips into yours, his pace relentless. he leaned down to press his chest against your back, hands moving upward to grip at your shoulders, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.

"no one can treat you this good baby- no one but me." your hair was a mess against the sheets as you nodded dumbly, eyes practically rolling into the back of your head as you felt your orgasm approaching.

his hips were angled perfectly, like he knew the inside of your body, the tip of his cock rubbing right along that sweet patch.

"right there baby, right? can tell by the way you're clenching around me baby- bet it feels so, so good."

his dirty words made your head spin, your teeth practically grinding against the fabric of his tank top. you felt your stomach grow tense, your toes curling tightly as you tapped your foot against the bed, hips drawing inward a you felt your orgasm approach.

you turned your head to press your forehead against the bed, trying to focus on your breathing to avoid screaming your lungs out as you felt your orgasm hit you like a train.

he grabbed your twitching body, his length still sliding along your walls as he hungrily chased his own high.

"just- just a little bit more- fuck, fuck, fuck-"

you released his shirt from your mouth, a loud whine leaving your lips as he slapped his hips against your harshly, his body still as he pressed deep into you, his cum coating your insides.

you both let out a huff, your bodies falling limply onto the bed as you tried to catch your breath.

you felt his strong arm, press down on you, stopping you from turning over, "don't- don't move-"

you laughed softly as he grunted loudly, trying to lift himself up, "i'll get you water- and something to clean you up- don't you dare move."

he got up to walk out of the room, stopping to turn around and check on you.

you were still there laying on his bed, but now giggling as you tried to get under his covers.

"good girl-" he smiled in your direction, "i'll be right back."

[ttjisung]

PRIVACY na jaemin

in which jaemin's one of your closest friends. what the rest of your friends don't know is that the two of you have been fucking in their houses every time you hung out.

fwb!na jaemin x afab!reader ( x slight haechan near the end) wc: 1k

cw: nsfw + mdni, smut, voyeurism, fwb kind of but there's romantic kissing that's too intimate to be justified so maybe not, fingering, dry humping, riding (with clothes on), oral fixation (imo he'd be a boob guy sorry), cum eating? kind of..., getting CAUGHT, haechan is a freak but what's new, possibly part one because i want to continue the ending >:3

Had it not been for the strong grip Jaemin had on your face, covering your mouth with his bigger hand, you’re sure you would’ve been kicked out of Donghyeok’s house, maybe even out of your friend group – that would be considered a light consequence by you, if anything.

You’re not sure when your relationship changed with Jaemin. Having shared several mutual friends for years, it was only natural that the two of you would bond. What your group didn’t expect, though, was for you two to connect so deeply. Shy waves turned into long embraces, and before you knew it, you were in his bed wearing nothing but a long T-shirt of his and a pair of boxers - this part was unknown to your friends, who just assumed you were weirdly close best friends and nothing more. Donghyeok was the only one who’d sometimes theorize over your touchy friendship, yet no one would pay him any attention, being known as the most dramatic male in the group.

The idea was Jaemin’s – he suggested it’d be fun to try something new sexually, yet you were quick to shut him down, imagining something much more vulgar. When he mentioned voyeurism behind walls, explaining how it was only for the thrill and he would never genuinely want someone to watch unless you wanted it too, gears shifted in your head and you hesitantly agreed. That was two weeks ago, and since then, Jaemin had jumped on you in the ‘privacy’ of your other friends’ bathrooms five times already. It almost felt as though it was a challenge to the male, who you noticed would become increasingly antsy, closest to cumming when you would hear the familiar thump of someone’s footsteps passing down the hallway. 

That’s what landed you in your peculiar predicament, straddling Jaemin’s lap with a hand of his over your mouth as his other arm guided you onto him in slow motions, dragging your clothed clit on his growing bulge. You were in the main bedroom, pulled onto the male who sat in what was known humorously as Donghyeok’s ‘Cuck Chair’ among your friends – simply a soft one-seater that faced the bed. 

It was hard to muffle the loud noises Jaemin forced out of you, writhing in pleasure as you finally felt his fingers slide over your clothed core. His middle finger rolled gentle circles onto your clit as his other hand moved down from your mouth, and towards the strap of your tank top. One of your arms was wrapped around his neck, grasping his hair for support as the other replaced Jaemin’s, hiding your own embarrassingly loud moans.

Your smaller fingers weren’t enough to cover the gasp that escaped you as he pulled down the strap, dragging the rest of the material with it until your boobs were in view. He let out a loud groan at the sight, making you pull his hair as a warning to shut up, yet the action only made his volume increase. 

Leaning in to take your nipple into his mouth, his hand that had slipped under your skirt stopped with the circling motion, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Your whines were cut off quickly though, as he pulled your panties to the side, hooking them open wide enough to slip his hand under. Finally feeling two of his long fingers slowly pushing inside you, your grip on his hair grew, and you had to fight every atom in your body to keep your hand over your mouth. 

Jaemin’s movements quickened, stretching you out on his fingers, and curling them to reach deeper into your walls. “Feel so good around me, baby. You wanna cum?” He whispered, pulling away from your chest for a second before diving back in. When you nodded in response, he moaned against you, leaving sloppy open kisses all over your chest. You kept rocking against him, eager to feel him further inside of you, which caused you to grind against his still clothed dick. The combined stimulation of his mouth on your tits and his fingers inside of you made your stomach turn and a pit form, his palm now pushing against your clit which made you bite down harder onto your own hand. 

The motions repeated until the pit collapsed, and you rode out your high on top of Jaemin, who was close behind. Continuing his actions until you whispered in his ear, begging to give you a break, he took his fingers out of you, unlatching from your chest to guide them in his mouth and suck the fluids off. 

The sight of Jaemin so desperately getting off on your taste made you blush, and you leaned in, giving him a way-too-intimate kiss that was almost shy, yet had him reciprocating almost immediately. The hand he licked clean moved behind your neck, holding your head close to his as he pried your mouth open with his tongue - you could taste yourself on him. A whimper came out of his mouth at the mix of your spit and his, and he could tell he was cumming soon. 

Just as the kiss got more passionate, pushing him closer to his climax, the door bursted open, revealing an angry yet prideful looking Donghyeok who immediately jumped into his bedroom, “I knew it! I fucking knew it! In my room though? Really?” 

You had expected Jaemin to push you off. Truly you wouldn’t be shocked if he threw you across the room and claimed he had nothing to do with it, yet the male shocked both you and Donghyeok as he continued his actions, taking his eyes off his angry friend and looking at you, placing both hands on your hips and continuing to grind your body against his. “Wait, Jaemin-” Before you knew it, his mouth was open, releasing a loud moan as you felt the fabric of his pants turn damp. 

You were mortified, to say the least. Jaemin had just done that in front of your friend, who was already seemingly and rightfully pissed off at the fact that you were in his room. What neither of you expected was for Donghyeok to simply whine like a child, slamming his door and moving closer. “Seriously, you were doing this in my house and never thought to invite me?” 

a/n: this is the first smut fic i've posted on this blog and i'm nervie... lmk if you guys liked it and ill blush and write a part two with both haechan & jaemin ^_^

[https-lvesick]

♡ ⭑.ᐟ 엔시티 드림 . . "merry christmas, loverboy!"

scenario . . ♡ you’ve been bragging about your christmas gift for the whole month and, even though your boyfriend had been arguing you couldn’t beat his gift for you, he was curious, after all, you were talking too much. he didn’t expect you to tell the truth. it’s the first christmas eve you’ve spent alone since you started dating, a few months ago, so you decided to prepare something memorable. he found you lying on the bed, completely naked, well, not completely since you had a big red ribbon around your breasts, offering yourself as the special gift.

content . . 𝜗𝜚 boyfriend!dream x fem!reader, first time as a couple! [mk] protected sex, praising, squirting, kinda rough sex, mark is lowkey a beast ♡ [rj] protected sex (in my mind), praising, breast play, renjun is a whiny sub ♡ [jn] unprotected sex, virgin!reader, big dick!jeno, power play, cervix fucking, creampie, jeno it’s too good for this world ♡ [hc] fingering, messy sex, mention of squirting, mirror sex, haechan is a bit of a perv and kinda mean (but wbk) ♡ [jm] fingering, cunnilingus, praising, jaemin is a softie and… kinda pussydrunk ♡ [cl] unprotected sex, implied breeding kink, mentions of children (as next christmas’ gift), GIVE THIS MAN A KID Y’ALL, chenle is completely obsessed ♡ [js] unprotected sex, creampie, clothed blowjob (?), slight size kink, jisung is needy

lola's notes .: oh, haii >.< i’m kinda back yippie! i’ve been facing terrible writer’s block that is eating me alive and i’ve been kinda… depressed bc writing is literally my favourite thing to do, (stardew valley, close your eyes) so it’s being hard for me… anyways, dropping this hc (which i didn’t know i could write on time) so you can enjoy it while i’m away! also, i’m closing requests for now :( i have like 8 in line and, as i said, i can’t write now, but i’ll do it as soon as possible. i have some other projects to do, so idk when i’ll open it again… well, that’s it, enjoy your holidays, my adorable “lola lovers” (you’ve been named by @lyvhie btw) and merry christmas! love y’all <3 (and wtf are these content warnings 😭😭)

Mark

as soon as he stepped into the bedroom, his mouth fell open. he opened and closed it several times while you giggled, watching your boyfriend freeze in the doorframe. he didn't know how to react. though he wanted to touch you, his mind wouldn't let him — not until you gave verbal permission, even though you were literally offering yourself to him. mark stood there smiling awkwardly, trying to hide his obvious arousal. but when you walked toward him, touching his arms and whispering sweet words, he melted. you peppered his face with kisses, running your hands over his body just as you'd imagined.

you gripped the bedsheets so tightly you thought they might tear. you knew your boyfriend had strong hips — he was a dancer, after all — but you hadn't imagined they were this powerful. mark had your face down, hips raised, completely lost in pleasure. he barely let you catch your breath between positions. you'd already reached one orgasm, and he was driving you toward another.

"fu-fuck, baby, slow down..." you murmured, feeling another climax building. you were already weak, but mark kept going round after round like he couldn't stop himself. his skills were undeniable as his hips snapped against yours in sharp, quick thrusts, hitting all the right spots inside you. your eyes rolled back as you drooled, completely undone, but he loved seeing you like this — pleasure-drunk and utterly satisfied.

"c-can't..." he gasped, sucking in a breath when you clenched around him. "been waiting for you my whole life. i can't stop, baby, i'm sorry." his voice was weak, matching his expression. mark truly couldn't control himself, his body moving on its own. "so pretty, baby... so pretty..." he murmured, gripping your flesh. you managed a faint smile at his praise.

one hand maintained its tight grip on your ass while the other traced down your spine, his touch ghosting over your skin before grabbing your hair and pulling you to him. his lips pressed soft kisses and bites to your shoulder as you reached back to hook your arm around his neck. mark buried his face in your neck, whimpering as he picked up his pace once again.

when your fourth orgasm hit, your breath caught, and suddenly you felt something warm and liquid beneath you.

"did you just... squirt?" mark asked, staring in awe with a goofy smile. "shit, this was so fucking hot." he kept talking, but you couldn't process his words, too exhausted to focus. he removed the full condom, disposing of it in the bathroom before returning to you. "let me clean this mess so we can enjoy a romantic christmas eve." he chuckled at your incoherent mumbling.

Renjun

he wasn't proud of his previous actions, but he had glimpsed you naked once or twice... It was an accident — or maybe he had peeked while you were changing. but seeing you fully naked for him now was simply mind-blowing. though he had a mental list of everything he wanted to do with you when the time finally came, he couldn't move. he was too stunned. when your smile began turning into a worried frown, he snapped out of it, walking toward you to cup your face and kiss you passionately.

jun had always shown you his strong and confident side. you never needed to worry — he was there, your super-boyfriend, ready to handle all your concerns. even though he looked small and fragile, he never let that affect your perception of him.

having him underneath you was heavenly. his big round eyes looked at you — especially your breasts bouncing right in his face — like you were the most precious thing in the world. whines escaped his plump lips whenever you rode him too fast or clenched too hard around him. it was all overwhelmingly satisfying and delicious; you wouldn’t want it any other way. turns out his gift was indeed better than yours.

he played with your breasts, squeezing the flesh, pinching and twisting your nipples, even licking his lips, eager to taste them. so you ended his torture. you bent closer and smiled gently at him. "go ahead, love." as soon as the words left your mouth, he took you in. renjun hollowed his cheeks, suckling your nipple, twirling his tongue around the mound, making you gasp when he nibbled it.

your hips rolled lazily on top of his, but his teasing made you pick up your pace. you placed your hands on either side of his head for support and soon you were riding him exactly how you wanted. you lifted your hips until just his tip remained inside, then slammed back down. renjun's whines were muffled by the flesh in his mouth, his eyes rolling back. a heavenly sight.

"jun... baby... i'm—fuck—close..." you whispered, biting your lower lip. he nodded vigorously, gripping your hips, thrusting back into you at a desperate pace until you were the one rolling your eyes back.

as you reached your high, you nestled your face in his neck, breathing heavily, still clenching around him, still hearing his whines. minutes later, his arms caged you as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder and whispered sweetly in your ear, "merry christmas, my love."

Jeno

he wasn’t surprised to see you like this — offered to him so openly. he’d seen you like this once before, back when you tried to seduce him for the first time. back then, he’d gently rejected you, saying it was too soon. he wanted you to be certain, especially since it was your first time. but now, as you lay before him, beautifully confident and presenting yourself to him on christmas eve, he couldn’t resist. not this time. you looked so sure, so ready to give him everything.

a soft gasp escaped your lips, a sound that sent a jolt straight to his core. jeno was slowly sheathing himself into you, mindful of every inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. your hands clawed at his back, drawing a hiss from him, though the sting was nothing compared to the intoxicating grip your pussy had on him.

“is it okay?” he asked, his voice gentle as he kissed your face. “i can stop if it’s too much.” he nuzzled his nose against your neck, breathing in your scent. “love, if it hurts too much, we can try another day.”

“jeno, babe, please, shut the fuck up.” you replied, eyes squeezed shut. “it is hurting a bit, but that’s fine. i mean, have you seen your size?” he chuckled softly, continuing to pepper your face with kisses, hoping they’d ease the discomfort. “just… move slowly, yeah?” you added, and he nodded, doing exactly as you asked.

his thrusts were slow and deliberate, each movement filled with care. jeno wanted this moment to be perfect for you, something you’d remember with a smile — or maybe something that would leave you aching for him whenever the memory crossed your mind. he wanted to mark you, to make sure no one else could ever compare. you were his.

when the initial pain faded, you urged him to move faster, to stop holding back. and he obeyed — because how could he ever deny his woman? his first move was to pin your wrists above your head, holding you firmly but tenderly in place. he loved the marks your nails left on him, but right now, he wanted to see you fully. vulnerable. exposed. his.

the shift in pace was overwhelming. he fucked you with a fervour you hadn’t expected, every thrust hitting deep, brushing against spots inside you that made your mind go blank. you were soaking, your wetness easing his way into you as his cock found its rhythm, pressing against your cervix over and over. the sensations left you moaning, eyes rolling back, utterly lost in him. jeno — usually so gentle and soft — was showing you a side of him you hadn’t known existed, and you loved every second of it.

when he finally came, filling you with his warmth, your body reacted instinctively. your toes curled, your back arched, and his name fell from your lips in a chant. he relished the sound, savouring every moan as if it were a symphony written just for him.

his chuckle broke the haze, followed by a cheeky question: “do we get more gifts on new year’s eve?” you frowned, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. there he was — your mesmerizing boyfriend, sweaty and glowing, with a grin that could light up the world. he traced his hands down your sides, leaning in close to whisper against your lips, “merry christmas…”

Haechan

you were already his goddess — his perfect little girlfriend whom he'd do anything for. he loved you more than himself and respected you like you were his owner (and you were), but he couldn't help wanting more. he wanted to touch your body and do even more things to you, and you knew that — haechan isn't exactly subtle about his thoughts or cravings. that's why you happily decided to give yourself as his gift. when he saw you naked, he moaned involuntarily, so genuine that you couldn't help but giggle. he tried to hide his growing boner, but it was useless, especially because you were smiling at him with that warm, sexy smile of yours that made him kneel immediately. he licked his lips and took off his shirt, ready to enjoy the best gift anyone could've given him in 24 years.

it was raw, messy, and definitely dirty. haechan was a perverted motherfucker with thousands of fantasies — you knew that — but having sex with him took things to another level.

he was always suggesting beach dates or pool days at his house because he wanted to see you in a swimsuit, or suggesting showering together — "jokingly," according to him— to save water. you caught his hints, obviously, and it just fueled you to tease him more. but now that he had the chance, he wouldn't let it go to waste.

he had you completely open for him, your legs spread — caged by his own — in front of the mirror. the sheets were drenched, as was his face, and you were already drooling, babbling something haechan couldn't care less about. he was too focused on your dripping core, which made obscene noises every time his palm connected with it. your grip was so tight on his thigh that your fingerprints marked his flesh.

"you didn't know what you were getting yourself into, baby..." he grinned, watching your dishevelled reflection. your eyes faltered for a moment, making you close them, and haechan stopped, making you whine. "nuh-uh, what did i say? keep your eyes on the fucking mirror and i keep going." he held your jaw, making you open your eyes and look at yourself. the shame had long since vanished, replaced by pure, raw pleasure and inhibition.

"but... it's too much, hyeok..." you whined, trying to catch his hand on your jaw, but it was futile. you could see his mocking grin.

"yeah? too much? then i should stop, huh? i don't wanna hurt my queen." as soon as the words left his lips, your eyes widened and a single tear rolled down your cheek in desperation. he'd been edging you for the past two hours, filling you with promises of making you feel good, satisfied, and giving you as many orgasms as you wanted — and he did, once. haechan made you squirt the first time and then... left you high and dry, begging for more. this wasn't how you'd imagined your christmas eve to be going.

"chan, please..." you whimpered, feeling his fingers circling your clit. "let me—cum..." you gulped before letting out a stream of pleas. when you felt his lips pressing softly against yours, you knew he'd finally let you release.

"now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" your moans grew louder when he inserted three fingers without warning, moving at a quick pace, curling inside you. "let it go, baby, give me another one. be a good girl and give me another one."

Jaemin

right, okay, you caught him. no handmade or expensive gift could beat yours. he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, admiring the stunning view before him. his smirk wouldn't fade as he walked toward you, ready to unwrap his gift. he wanted this to be the night of your life. fuck christmas at this point — you were his special event, and he would make it unforgettable.

"nana..." you whimpered, feeling your orgasm building. your boyfriend didn't hear, still devouring you like a starved man.

you'd been in this position for almost an hour now, lying in bed while Jaemin had his face buried between your thighs. before that, he'd explored your whole body with his hands, lips, and tongue. every inch of you had been kissed, licked, and nibbled. he made sure you felt special and loved — because you are.

"just one more, baby... i can't get enough of you..." he growled before diving in again. you gripped his hair, moaning loudly when he slipped two fingers inside you, fucking you while sucking on your clit.

jaemin wasn't even fully naked yet, still wearing his pants, having only removed his shirt because you'd begged. you needed to see him, to mark him. and there he was — your masterpiece, your gorgeous boyfriend covered in hickeys and love bites, just as he'd done to you. but you wanted more. you wanted to touch him, feel him, give him the same pleasure he was giving you — even more — but he wouldn't let you. not now. he was just too drunk in you to let you move.

just as he'd learned everything about you, he knew you were close — he'd seen the signs twice before — so he worked to overwhelm your senses. you came, releasing into his mouth once again, gripping his hair and chanting his name. he licked you clean before rising to hover over you, kissing your lips and letting you taste yourself.

"can my baby handle more?" he smirked. "i still have plenty of ideas to make this christmas eve unforgettable." he wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh and playfully slap his arm. soon he crawled off the bed, stripping off his remaining clothes. you glanced at him, noticing a darker spot on his boxers. "yeah... i might have cum just from tasting you..." you scoffed. "what? you're absolutely fucking delicious, baby. how could i not when i had my face buried in fucking heaven?"

Chenle

fuck. you had just broken him. he’d lost count of how many wet dreams he’d had about you, how many nights he’d jerked off thinking about your scent, your taste. and god, he hated it. he had you. he didn’t need to fuck his fist like some desperate, virgin high schooler. but he couldn’t bring himself to rush you, couldn’t risk making you feel forced. so he waited. and now, this moment? it was everything. it didn’t take much for him to lose control, pouncing on you like a man starved.

from the very beginning — from the day you slapped his face — he knew you were it. his perfect girl. the one he’d love until the end of time, marry, have kids with, and spend forever building a life alongside. it was always you.

and now, having you like this — sprawled out on the bed, back arched, skin glistening with sweat, lips parted as the sweetest, most intoxicating sounds spilled from them — he felt like the luckiest man alive. he was making you his, satisfying you in every way a real man should — your man should.

your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as he thrust into you with an almost desperate pace. yeah, chenle had imagined making slow, tender love to you, but his urgency wouldn’t allow it. he needed to feel you, to claim you, to pour everything he had into you.

“ch—chenle, fuck!” you gasped, fingers gripping the bedsheets for dear life. his cock was hitting every perfect spot inside you, and the pressure from his thumb on your clit was enough to drive you mad. why had you waited so long to let him have you like this?

“is it that good, baby?” his teasing voice only made you whine louder. he wasn’t even trying; it was almost unfair how effortlessly he could ruin you. you nodded breathlessly, and he leaned down, biting your lower lip before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. your arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer — as if he wasn’t already impossibly close. you were on the edge, desperate to fall over with him.

“don’t pull out, please…” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky as your release took over. your walls clenched around him, and you buried your face in his neck, biting down to muffle the intensity of your orgasm.

“not like i planned to,” he growled, his thrusts growing erratic. just a few more, and he spilled inside you, filling you to the brim as you’d begged him to. even then, he stayed, making sure he gave you everything he had.

“do you think we’ll be celebrating three months of our gift next christmas?” his cheeky tone earned him a playful slap on the back, and you shook your head, laughing softly.

“chenle, it’s too soon for that.” you brushed a hand through his damp hair, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “but merry christmas, love.”

Jisung

boy would be shocked. he didn't even blink for a full minute. the only sign he was "alive" besides his breathing was his quickly growing tent. he didn't notice his body's reaction until you touched him. he whined softly, letting you take control and lead him however you wanted. but when he realized he could fully enjoy his gift, something snapped inside him.

you had been teasing him from the start — whispering sweet nothings in his ear, touching all his sensitive spots, guiding his large hands over your body to untie the ribbon around your chest. when you were fully exposed to him, his hands engulfed your breasts, squeezing them as he prepared to taste them, until you stopped him.

he whined, frowning as he watched you sink to your knees, running your hands along his thighs. "darling, what are you doing, let me—fuck..." the words died on his tongue when you wrapped your pretty lips around him through his boxers. it was the hottest sight he'd ever seen of you, and he was losing control.

you teased him with your tongue while squeezing him, maintaining eye contact as he pleaded for more. you could feel him throbbing against your tongue as he whispered his desperate pleas. he felt ready to burst without proper stimulation. he was begging for it — begging for you. but you weren't ready to give in just yet.

that led to your current position — bent in half, completely exposed, with jisung's tall frame hovering over you as he moved frantically. the thin chain around his neck swayed with each thrust, brushing against your face.

"fuck—sorry, love. am i hurting you?" he whimpered. you managed a faint "no." taking that as encouragement, jisung sat up, lifted your hips, and continued his movements while stimulating your sensitive spot.

you were so aroused that the sounds were obscene and loud enough to make you embarrassed. you'd never been this vulnerable with anyone before, and being this way with your shy boyfriend made you both embarrassed and deeply satisfied. his soft sounds merged with the wet noises, bringing you closer to the edge.

finally, he finished, every muscle in his body relaxing as he let out a satisfied groan, his head falling back. when you opened your eyes, jisung was hovering over you again. "you're so pretty..." he murmured, losing himself in your eyes before adding shyly, "but i finished inside..."

"don't worry. we're safe," you whispered against his lips. "merry christmas, ji."

"merry christmas, my darling," he smiled before kissing you.

did you enjoy your reading? why don’t reblog, like or leave a comment? this way i know you liked what i wrote and surely will keep up with the good content!

masterlist + taglist: @jungaji

[luvdsc]

barbie girl.

if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then it’s so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really should’ve googled about the new plastics economy.

or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that he’s (not) all that.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, fluff, angst ⋮ makeover + college au word count :: 24,618 words warnings :: body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, [spoiler] did something bad, people being literal scum, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” playlist :: pretty boys (romi) ⋆ you can’t sit with us (sunmi) ⋆ i just wanna know (katherine li) ⋆ lie to girls (sabrina carpenter) ⋆ look what you made me do (taylor swift) ⋆ leftover feelings (regina song) ⋆ number one girl (rosé) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: she’s all that is one of my most favorite rom coms ever, but i’ve always been ///: at the whole makeover idea and decided to write my own version !! the idols mentioned in this fic are just characters, and how i portray them in this fic do not reflect how i actually view them or their irl personas. as always, much love to miss lana and miss moon for being my biggest cheerleaders ᥫ᭡ ↳ part of the 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 collaboration series.

i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

Good looking, charismatic, and popular — it’s his world, and you’re just living in it. Or something like that. You’re decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes in Seventeen magazine that you used to be obsessed with when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, you’d probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.

By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door of your shared accounting classroom during your fall semester, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. And he probably already spent even more time selecting the final photo to edit before you arrived to class and noticed him. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting. 

Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

You suddenly remember that there was that one small group presentation in that very same aforementioned accounting class, and you were assigned to the same group as Jaemin. Armed with this rediscovered memory, you are going to revise your earlier response and say that the correct descriptor for your relationship is perpendicular lines. That sounds right. Final answer. You’re locking it in.

Your paths should have only intersected once, the two of you should be going in different directions, and even though you’re in another class with him again for spring semester this year (since all freshmen with a business major has to take the same Gen. Ed. classes), not once have the two of you had a proper conversation with each other (He asked you to pass a note one time, but that barely counts). Jaemin should have forgotten you by now, and you should be continuing on with your side character life that you’re very much content with.

So then why on earth is he shouting your name like you’re old friends and causing what feels like every person within a one mile radius to stare at you?

He’s unknowingly giving you your main character moment, and you very quickly realize that you do not feel like the Y/N in any one of those Gojo fanfics you read religiously at three in the morning when you should really be studying or sleeping.

Instead, you feel like a bug watching its impending doom as a Doc Marten boot starts to descend at an alarming speed and you can’t even try to scuttle out of the way to avoid it. Frozen in your spot, you can only watch as your university’s it boy skids to a stop in front of you after running across the grass and flashing you his million dollar smile. “Hey, Y/N, right? We have ECON 13 together.”

Starstruck, your mind to mouth filter is completely shot, and all you manage to let out is a very uncool “Uh huh.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, and you feel like all the oxygen has been knocked out of your lungs, too. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Jaemin tilts his head to the side slightly, the sunlight catching his profile perfectly, and your breath hitches in your throat once more.

“I know this is gonna sound really, uh, forward since we barely know each other and all, but—”

You’re barely listening to him, your heart pounding in your chest and the blood rushing to your ears. It’s pretty embarrassing to see how a mere stranger with a pretty face can affect you this much. You really thought you had a much stronger willpower than this, but it’s so goddamn unfair how this boy standing in front of you has the most perfectly sculpted face you’ve ever seen. Plus, his eyelashes? Why the hell do boys always get the prettiest, thickest, and darkest lashes? 

Meanwhile, you’re out here struggling to force your perpetually straight, stubby lashes into a curl that ends up lasting only a couple hours, even when you use waterproof mascara. You still end up with flat lashes and you have to feverishly scrub your eyes to remove the blasted makeup and lose a few cherished lashes in the process.

“—with me?” Jaemin finishes, and you belatedly realize that you did not catch a single word that he said, too caught up in your inner monologue and too busy ogling. However, your heart flutters in your chest when you catch the last part of his question. Not to be too presumptuous, but it sounds like he’s asking you out. Why else would anyone randomly stop you like this and talk to you for this long? You’re positively giddy at this revelation. This is your moment, the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life, like Rapunzel waiting in her tower for the one to come and save her from her horribly mundane, repetitive life.

“Oh! Um… yes?” It’s a 50/50 chance between yes or no, and you hope that’s the correct answer he’s looking for. 

Jaemin’s face immediately brightens, and he turns his smile up another kilowatt, nearly blinding you. You grin back at him, squinting a little. This must be how Icarus felt when he flew towards the sun. 

“Oh shit, really? You’re really agreeing to tutor me? Hyuck—you know, our class’s peer TA—said I was a hopeless cause, and I would need way more one on one lessons outside of his hours and all that if I wanted to pass. And yeah, I know I could probably bitch at him until he caves since we’re kind of friends, but he would also hold this over my head, but he said you had the highest score on last week’s practice midterm, so I thought, ‘hey, why not shoot my shot?’” He directs another smile your way, pausing for a quick breath. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and his smile isn’t helping whatsoever as your heart decides to join in this race as well until it sinks when you finally process his words.

“Wait, Donghyuck said that about me?” you manage to get out, a little dazed, and Jaemin confirms before eagerly continuing on with his chatter, but all you can do is stupidly nod as the word “TUTOR” spins around and around in your mind in bold, italicized, underlined mocking red letters in Times New Roman font, size 12, double spaced, MLA format, the whole shebang.

Of course, he only wants a tutor. What made you think that a boy like him would look twice at a girl like you? The only other time a guy has ever expressed interest in you is to share homework answers for Calculus back in 10th grade (For the record, all of his answers were completely wrong, but Sungchan was a cute distraction. Actually, the two of you became very good friends once you very quickly got over the fact that you were firmly placed in the friendzone. He’s even dating one of your best friends now).

“Anyways, can I have your number? I can text you to match our schedules and figure out the times to meet up for the next couple of weeks before our next midterm.” You remain wide eyed, gazing at him like a deer caught in the headlights and still attempting to fully understand everything that has just happened.

Jaemin looks at you expectantly, his hand outstretched towards you with his phone tucked between his fingers. The device dangles there for an additional ten seconds that probably isn’t socially acceptable. Grab the phone, you scream at yourself silently, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. You blink slowly once. Then twice.

“Or, I can just… uh, type in your number if you tell me,” Jaemin says awkwardly, his smile wilting slightly as he shifts from one foot to the other under your unwavering gaze and slowly retracting his hand. Finally, you come to your senses as you quickly spring into action and snatch the phone from him, tapping in your digits and adding in your name and shared class before saving your contact.

“Here,” you mutter, returning his phone, and he gives you a relieved grin. You clutch onto the strap of your backpack a little tighter, cursing the way your heart skips a beat. “I should be free most weekday afternoons since I prefer to take all morning classes, but let me know when you’re free and we can work something out.”

“Awesome! Thank you so much, Y/N, you’re a life saver.” Jaemin beams at you, touching your shoulder briefly and you feel that very same place on your body erupt in flames as your face heats up in a similar manner. “I’ll text you tonight, yeah?”

You can only numbly nod, subconsciously raising your hand and waving at him, and Jaemin chuckles, flashing his pearly whites at you again, before he saunters off and blends into a group of other equally pretty and popular students, a few of whom look over at you with vague interest before turning their attention back to the boy who just joined them.

What have you gotten yourself into?

ii. you want to go for a ride?

“I’m getting sus vibes from him.”

Flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder, Lana takes a long sip of her wintermelon milk tea with honey pearls, a spitting image of that one infamous Starbucks meme of your school’s alumni, Hyungwon (His picture can still be found floating through discord chats, and you’re ninety percent sure your school used it in one of their recruitment brochures at one point). She’s sprawled out on the beanbag in the corner of your shared apartment’s living room, her HP laptop covered in sailor moon stickers balanced across her thighs (She swears HP is the best laptop brand, but you don’t trust electronics advice from anyone who can’t even use a toaster properly).

“Have you even spoken to Jaemin? How exactly are you getting sus vibes from him?” Moon jumps in, glancing over the top of her MacBook as she takes a quick break from her latest coding project regarding polynomials, matrices, and a bunch of other math terminology you rather not think about. You left all that arithmetic jargon back in high school after you got a 5 on both AP calculus exams and got to skip all required math classes for your accounting major (Sungchan wasn’t so lucky).

“He’s a fratboy finance major.” Lana rolls her eyes.

“Point taken, but weren’t you into that senior, Jaehyun? He’s one of them. You called him your soulmate,” you interject, and she splutters for a few seconds before putting her hand up in protest.

“Listen, I was going through a perpetual mental breakdown at the beginning of this semester. It doesn’t count. You try being a pharmacy major. Thank god I switched out to English. My mental state was compromised, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“What do you mean not thinking straight? Lana, you literally chose the straightest, most heterosexual man out there.” Moon jibes, closing her laptop now with an air of conceding defeat. You have to give her props for trying to work on some assignments, but you already knew no one was going to get any work done tonight. It’s a Thursday night anyway, which means you have until Tuesday to get all the homework assigned today done. You can always work on them on Monday night and inevitably curse yourself for not getting it done earlier when you end up pulling an all nighter and show up to your 8 a.m. international marketing tactics class with raccoon eyes. 

“This is bullying, and we are on an anti-bullying campus,” Lana complains, giving the two of you the stink eye before leaning over and lightly shoving the snoozing boy sprawled across the floor next to her. “Wake up, Yang. Moon and Y/N gang up on me when you’re not awake to absorb all our gentle bullying.”

The boy in question sits upright, bleary eyes and the drying ink from his notes now decorating his cheek, a lasting reminder of the makeshift pillow for his impromptu nap. Yawning, he stretches his arms, rubbing his face and making an even bigger mess of smears. “What’d I miss?”

“We were just discussing Lana‘s tragic crush on Jaehyun last year,” you say, and she makes a strangled noise next to you. “Were you up late sewing again?”

“Yes,” Yangyang grumbles, “You would think Kaneki would be so easy to cosplay since he wears all black, but the mask is taking forever to make.”

“Can’t one of your sugar daddies buy one for you?”

“What sugar daddies? If I had one, I wouldn’t be stuck in here trying to balance equations,” he moans, crumpling up another sheet filled up with scribbles and his latest attempts at answering the second to last problem for organic chemistry.

“My bad, I thought you would have some from your cosplay account.” Moon shrugs, rummaging through her large soccer mom purse for a snack and triumphantly pulling out a box of green tea Hello Pandas. “You have like 100k followers on there.”

“My audience demographic is weebs.” Yangyang deadpans. “How many weebs do you know who are rich enough to send five thousand dollars every week to a struggling college student?”

“Wait, we’re going off topic right now. What do you know about Jaemin, Yang?” Lana cuts in, and Moon nods in agreement (You try not to look too interested, but fail miserably, no doubt).

“Jaemin Na? I’ve never talked to him personally, but there’s always stories about him and his friends. Jeno is on the baseball team and notorious for his body count. He’s the one that takes up like 30% of our university’s anonymous confessions Twitter account. This is his insta, but he’s not really active on social media.” Yangyang passes his phone around for the three of you to see Jeno’s Instagram. There’s a whopping total of fourteen posts, and every picture of him with someone of the opposite sex features a different girl. Instant red flag.

“Lia is pretty big on Tik Tok,” Yangyang continues, grabbing his phone to pull up her account to show all of you. “She’s pretty and is actually really good at singing, but she's basically trying to be the next Addison Rae. Jimin models, and she’s going by Karina nowadays. I heard she tried to trademark that name or something. She posts dancing Tik Toks. She and Yeonjun collab a lot. He walks for New York fashion week and has a Tik Tok for dancing, too. I’m like 70% sure they’re only dating to boost their views. Somi is the most popular one out of them. She’s the blonde one. She’s pretty talented and I heard she signed onto the same company as the Blackpink House. She’s even done a makeup video with Vogue recently.”

“And Jaemin has a pretty large social following. He takes decent pictures, and that’s what he insists his insta is for, but let’s be real, the majority of his followers are there for his face. You should see his TikTok. He literally just recorded himself looking at the camera and put some generic caption, and he racked up like seven hundred thousand likes,” Yangyang grumbles, pulling up his account to show you all the video in question. “Like literally, what the hell is this? I have to put in so many hours making my outfits and editing my videos and all he does is smile and paste ‘Don’t have a valentine again… hope this will change soon’ on top, and the preteens are foaming at the mouth.”

“Wow, jumpscare warning next time you show me him please.” Lana wrinkles her nose at the repeating offensive clip. Yangyang merely shoves his phone even closer to her in response, and she flips him off.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked about him. Why are you suddenly interested in him? Is this your Jaehyun 2.0 phase starting up?” Yangyang grins, and Lana flicks his forehead in retaliation.

“Shut up, when are you guys gonna let that die? Besides, it’s Y/N who’s interested, not me,” Lana retorts, and immediately, the spotlight is back on you. You cough awkwardly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all the attention.

“Uh, he just asked if I would tutor him…”

“And you said yes?” Yangyang sounds scandalized and utterly betrayed. “Why would you willingly fraternize with the enemy like that?”

“What enemy? I didn’t even know he knew I existed until this very recent development occurred.” 

“Influencers like him are instant enemies to me, and as my friend, he’s your enemy by association. I can't believe you’re helping the competition,” Yangyang sniffs.

You don’t have the guts to tell them all that the only reason you accepted his tutor proposal is because you got ahead of yourself and despite all the odds and signs, thought Jaemin was asking you out. You know your friends won’t make fun of you (too badly), but that is completely humiliating, and you will be taking that to the grave.

“It’s just tutoring, don’t be so dramatic,” you scoff, making a face at him. “He texted me yesterday, and we’re meeting up at the library later today, and I reserved a private study room for two hours.”

“Oooh, so it’s a study date?” Moon teases, and your cheeks betray you with the amount of heat now emanating off of them.

“Shut up, it’s literally just tutoring. We’re going over supply and demand curves.” 

“No, back up, he texted you yesterday and you didn’t tell us about him until today?” Lana interjects, holding up her hand and putting on a faux offended expression. “What kind of friend are you? We’re supposed to tell each other every nitty gritty detail about our love lives! Like Sungchan texts Moon good morning texts at eight in the morning, and by 8:30 a.m., we’re already getting a play by play about it in the group chat!”

Moon turns pink and opens her mouth before deciding against it and quietly shuts it. Yangyang silently laughs next to Lana, his shoulders shaking (You decide that you shouldn’t tell them Jaemin actually asked you in person to tutor him three days ago or else, Lana will chew you out even more).

You protest, flailing your arms around slightly in exasperation. “There’s literally zero development in my love life! I have nothing going on in it, and I can guarantee you that he does not see me in that light whatsoever.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Lana looks wholly unconvinced, and your two friends look back and forth between the two of you like two kids watching their divorced parents fight. “So… Do you need help picking out an outfit for tomorrow?”

“… Yeah.”

iii. sure, ken. jump in!

“Hey, Y/N!” 

Jaemin loudly whispers a little breathlessly as he drops his bag onto the table and slumps into the chair next to yours, his chest heaving slightly. Startled, you jerk up in your chair, heart skipping a beat when you realize he’s here. You were supposed to be in a private study room, but there was a group of boys already in there, and as the most non-confrontational person to walk this earth, you decided to cut your losses and take a table nearby.

“Did you wait long? I got caught up outside the library when Somi stopped me and completely forgot,” he says apologetically, pulling out his textbooks, and you shake your head, giving him a shy smile.

“No, it’s alright. I was already here anyway, and I got some extra studying done.” You gesture towards the papers and notebooks strewn across the table’s surface, covered in your notes from today’s classes. “Should we start with today’s lesson? How much did you understand in class today?”

“Maybe the first five minutes of it only.”

You pause, glancing over at him. “Professor Hwang was ten minutes late to class.”

“Exactly.” Jaemin nods, and you stifle a laugh. He grins at you. “I don’t think you realize how much of a hopeless cause I am when you agreed to tutor me.”

“We can start from the beginning then. You have four weeks until the midterm, and we can go through every lesson we’ve had so far. I’ll make up a study schedule if you give me yours. And if you continue to go to Donghyuck’s tutoring hours too, you should hopefully be able to catch up and do well on the midterm.”

Jaemin wordlessly pulls up his class schedule on his phone, and you plug them into a Google calendar that you quickly share to his email. “So, I color coded your classes in green, and my classes are in pink. Do you have any other things that we need to work around?”

He peers over at your screen, scanning the contents. “I have my weekly frat meetings on Tuesday nights and mandatory events on other nights.”

“Alright, you can put them in and we’ll figure out meeting times,” you say, pushing your laptop towards him and he starts to add in his extracurricular activities.

 “Party from 8 pm to 1 am?” you read skeptically, your eyes scanning over the event he tacked in under this week’s Friday.

“Yeah, can’t miss it,” Jaemin says, typing in more events and making sure to color code them in blue. “Don’t you have things to do on Friday night too?”

“Uh, maybe grab a poke bowl from the dining hall to go and watch another Banana Fish episode,” you say awkwardly, fiddling with the small Gojo keychain you have attached to your pouch.

Jaemin stops, looking over at you. “You watch Banana Fish?”

Your cheeks grow warm. “… Yeah, why?” 

His eyes light up and he asks eagerly, “Did you see the latest episode? When Golzine leaves Arthur in charge?”

The two of you continue discussing the plot as he finishes up adding in his schedule for the next four weeks, finally nudging the laptop back towards you. “Do you need to add in your stuff too?”

“Mm no, it’s fine. I already put in my classes, and I’m not in any clubs or sororities,” you answer, making sure to input Donghyuck’s tutoring hours as well before scanning over the calendar and pinpointing areas where he’s free for at least one to two hours. “Okay, should we start with meeting three times a week?”

“Huh, you memorized Hyuck’s hours?” Jaemin notes, giving you a sly smile as he moves closer to look at the schedule.

“Huh? No, don’t you always know your professors’ and TAs’ office hours?” you ask, looking up and are immediately startled after underestimating the proximity between you and the beautiful boy next to you. 

“No, I’m not a nerd,” he snorts lightly, and you laugh awkwardly, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction and put a little more distance between the two of you before you go into cardiac arrest, “Right, yeah, well, anyway—”

“You were also interested when I said Hyuck mentioned you before,” Jaemin says suddenly, sitting up straight before a wide grin spreads across his face as he loudly exclaims, “You totally have a crush on him!”

“Quiet down!” You immediately shush him, the tips of your ears burning as everyone within a 40 feet radius in the library is now staring at the two of you. You’ve never received this much attention before, and you very quickly realize that you absolutely hate it. You loudly whisper-protest, stumbling over your words in a panic, “I—I don’t have a crush on him!”

“Oh, come on, your face is getting hot and you’re stuttering. You do too like him,” Jaemin laughs softly, propping his elbow onto the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he gives you a once over. “I could totally make you into his type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask hotly, cheeks burning even more when you feel his eyes graze over your figure.

“Oh, it’ll be so much fun. We can go to the mall and pick out some cute clothes for you, and then swing by the hair shop. You’re definitely using the wrong conditioner and shampoo,” Jaemin continues, eying your hair for a quick second.

“Wait, wait, we’re just here for tutoring, what are you even talking about?” You ask, bewildered before grasping a stray strand of your hair between your fingers. “And what do you mean I’m using the wrong shampoo?”

“And conditioner,” Jaemin pipes up, picking up his phone to search up some better brands he would recommend. “What have you been using? 2 in 1 Head and Shoulders?”

“No,” you huff softly, your ears growing even warmer at the accusation. “I just use whatever my mom buys in bulk at Costco.”

“Okay, well, you should use this instead,” Jaemin says, showing his phone screen to you, and your eyes widen slightly when you note the price tag.

“I cannot be forking over nearly seventy dollars on shampoo and conditioner,” you say incredulously, pushing his phone back towards him and waving your hand dismissively. “And there’s no way I’m going to spend even more money on new clothes.”

“Okay, fine, I think I have some unopened bottles from sponsored deals that I can give to you,” Jaemin sighs, opening up his text messages to find his friends’ group chat. “Or my friends would have some good ones, too. Maybe we can get you some of their free clothes from sponsorships, too.”

“You guys just get free clothes?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs, glancing over at you. “On second thought, Karina and Lia aren’t the same size as you, so you won’t fit them. We can just order some basic pieces online or something for starters.”

“We—We aren’t doing this,” you loudly whisper back to him, hyper aware of the other students around you who keep glancing over at Jaemin. “Let’s just focus on making this schedule and helping you pass your midterm.”

“Oh, please, doll, it’d be fun. Just think of it as a payment for your tutoring,” Jaemin persuades you, scooting closer to you and pressing his thigh against yours lightly. Your breath hitches in your throat at the pet name and his touch. You’ve never been this close to any boy before, let alone one as attractive as Jaemin.

“You’ll look so pretty, I know the perfect outfits to make for you. And I can teach you how to get Hyuck’s attention, too,” he continues, nudging you lightly, and you’re still dazed, unable to get over the fact that he’s impossibly close to you, close enough for you to count the pretty lashes framing his even prettier eyes. You wonder what it’s like to be that beautiful, what it’s like to have people falling at your feet, what it’s like to mesmerize everyone the second you walk into a room.

Honestly, if Jaemin asked you to jump, your only response would be “how high.”

“If I agree to this, will you finally pay attention?” you sigh, and Jaemin instantly brightens up, nodding and giving you another one of those smiles that makes your stomach flip flop. Your Achilles’ heel is one very persistent boy who goes by the name of Na Jaemin, and he has hit you with a direct bullseye.

“Yes, I’ll be a model student, doll.”

You hesitate for a split second before relenting. “Okay, fine, deal.”

iv. i’m a barbie girl in the barbie world.

Jaemin is easy on the eyes, but currently proving to be very difficult for your nerves during your fourth tutoring session. Your wardrobe has increased in style and size by now, and you’re dressed in a pretty lilac top that wraps around you and accentuates your curves and hides what needs to be hidden perfectly. Your jeans may dig a little more than you’d like into your stomach, but it’s your fault that you chose to wear your photo jeans instead of your sitting jeans. Also, your hair has never looked better, all thanks to the boy seated next to you.

“No, when there is a low supply, there’s a high demand. They directly affect each other,” you try to re-explain to the boy next to you, drawing out the line graph once again. He stares down at the familiar graph before looking at the written practice problem in front of him. Professors must have an insane amount of patience, you silently think to yourself. 

You sigh. “Let’s put it this way. You and Jeno want to buy the same shirt, but there’s only one left in the right size. So that’s two people who are demanding the one shirt. And the store only has one shirt in its supply. So how would you describe this situation?”

“Oh.” The look of realization flashes across Jaemin’s face as your example easily snaps the puzzle pieces into place for him. “There’s a high demand and low supply. Too many people want the shirt, but there’s not enough shirts.”

“Yes, you got it!” You cheer quietly, mindful of your location at one of the library’s tables. “Now try reading through the practice problems and draw the appropriate supply and demand graphs for each one.”

 “And when I’m done with this, we can take a break, and I’ll teach you how to do makeup. My friends will help,” Jaemin says idly as he reads through the first problem again. 

Your stomach lurches slightly at that, and you hesitate. “Your friends?”

“Yeah, you know, Jeno, Karina, Lia, and Yeonjun. Somi, too, but she’s been busy. I can teach you basic skincare and makeup, but the girls will have to help you with the rest,” he says casually, scrawling down his first answer and the corresponding graph.

You swallow hard, your voice croaking slightly before you hastily clear it. “Are you sure? Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, doll. You’re like a puppy, and everyone likes those,” Jaemin mumbles idly, eyebrows furrowing as he rereads the second problem.

“A puppy?” You don’t know whether to be offended or not yet.

Oh, you know, just that you’re cute and all,” Jaemin laughs lightly, starting to write down his next answer, and your heart nearly stops in your chest. You force yourself to breathe regularly again.

“Oh, I see,” you start to answer coolly, but stuttering on the last word, internally cursing your tongue at the last stumble. You try to sit calmly and relax for the rest of the tutoring session as Jaemin slowly makes his way through the practice packet, but the knot in your stomach continues to tangle even more, growing ever bigger. Maybe you should just tell Jaemin that lunch didn’t agree with you and cut this meetup short. 

But that means less time spent with Jaemin. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Jaemin is nice, so his friends should be as well, you reason with yourself. There’s no need to be nervous. Even if they’re all incredibly beautiful, hot people with the most unapproachable aura you have ever encountered.

Like honestly, how is someone like Karina even real? Her face could start a modern day equivalent of the Trojan War. She is literally the face blueprint for every main female character you play in your otome games.

Turns out, Karina is even more gorgeous up close. Ridiculously close with the way she’s inches from your face as she swipes on some blush on the apples of your cheeks. You never thought you’d see the resident it girl here for you, standing in the middle of your dorm room, let alone have an actual conversation with her that extended beyond a polite hello when she stops by for Giselle. It’s already been 45 minutes, and your nerves still haven’t calmed down.

“You just need to apply a little bit here and here on both your cheeks,” she instructs you, pointing towards your cheekbones and carefully applying the rosy powder to the same areas. She pauses in the application momentarily so that you can type out a few notes into your phone covering her directions. “You can go heavier if you want the cute sunburn, Sabrina Carpenter look, but if you do too much, you’ll end up looking like my ex.”

“What?” You’re startled, glancing over at her and nearly getting blinded once again by her lethal face card. She laughs lightly, giving you a slight smile. “A clown.” 

“Oh, got it,” you chuckle, albeit nervously, shooting her a quick smile. “I’ll make sure to not do that.”

“Relax, it’s easy. Just a bit of makeup here and there, and you’ll be fine. All I do is some mascara, falsies, and a good lippie when I’m lazy, and I’m out the door in ten minutes,” Lia jumps in, holding several different tubes of lip tints.

“Are you sure? That’s really it?” You ask hesitantly, glancing over the various makeup products strewn over your desk. It looks a lot more complicated than what she had just described.

“Well, maybe you might need a bit more, like concealer and foundation. And some bronzer and heavy contouring. But just stick to the skincare routine and it’ll help lessen it,” Karina sighs, dabbing some highlighter to the tip of your nose before seeing the uncertain look in your eyes, adding hastily, “But it’s so worth it, trust. You’ll look so pretty, and it comes with so many perks. Girl math is knowing you can go out with no money and just your face card.”

“Hey, you’re friends with Yangyang?” Lia pipes up, noticing the photo strip you have pinned on your corkboard, nestled between the various Mystic Messenger Seven fanart and Zorro art prints.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I am. You know him?” You answer, and she nods before leaning in and evenly applying a thin layer of periwinkle tint on your lips. “Yeah, we’re in the same German class. Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

Well, you definitely can’t tell her about the raging heart on he has for his best friend, but it’s not like he really is seeing anyone either. You do vaguely remember Yangyang saying Lia was pretty and talented during his quick 5 minute minute class to Jaemin and his friends, so it’s not like he hates her either.

“No, he’s not,” you answer, hoping you made the right choice, and Lia’s face visibly brightens. “Oh, really? That’s great.”

“Okay, we’re done.” Karina announces, stepping back and holding up a mirror for you. “Not bad, right?”

“Oh, wow,” you suck in a breath, nearly gasping in surprise as you peer at the glass. You almost don’t recognize yourself. The contouring lifts up your face, slimming it down, and the blush gives you a pretty pink hue that makes you look sun kissed. Your lower lashes have nearly doubled in length with the mascara, giving you a pretty babydoll look. Karina had perfectly applied a set of falsies for you, framing your eyes delicately, and the shimmery eyeshadow and soft winged eyeliner accentuates your eyes even more. Your lips are the prettiest shade of pink, tinted and glossy.

You can’t believe it is your own reflection staring back at you.

“Now put this outfit on,” Lia says with a knowing smile, placing a shopping bag in your lap. “Jaemin picked it out.”

“Oh, really? Alright,” you manage to mumble out, dazed and still admiring yourself in the hand mirror. Karina laughs softly, nudging Lia before moving towards your door. “We have to get to a sorority meeting now, but I hope you like it, doll. And make sure to practice.”

“I love it,” you say breathlessly, grazing your fingertips against the cool glass, still in disbelief. “And I definitely will practice.”

“Mm, good, text us if you need any help! And send progress pics! We want to see how it’s going,” Lia answers, waving over her shoulder before the two of them exit your dorm. Sitting there alone, you stare at your reflection for a little longer, admiring yourself. You feel so pretty. 

You finally remember the paper bag on your lap, and you immediately dig into it, pulling out a flowy floral sundress. It’s beautiful, and you quickly tug off your jeans and tshirt before going to your drawers to dig around for the appropriate bra for the dress. You manage to find it, snapping on the bra around yourself from the front before twisting it until the clasp is against your back. You hastily push your arms through the straps, tugging on either side until it’s on perfectly. You suck in a quick breath, internally preparing yourself for the battle with the next piece of clothing, a.k.a. your worst enemy: spandex. You’ve familiarized yourself with the awkward jig you have to do around your dorm until you’ve wriggled into the tight elastic enough so that it sits in the correct spot and sucks in all the right places.

At last, you won the war, but you feel sweaty now, flopping back onto your bed for a quick break. You flap your hands in front of your face, thanking whoever decided to invent setting spray. You grab your deodorant spray and douse yourself in a heavy dose of it before picking up the sundress and slipping it over your head. To your great relief, it slides on perfectly, and you quickly shuffle over to the full length mirror hanging on the back of your door. You straighten out the dress and quickly pat down any strand of hair knocked askew from your latest struggles before giving a smile to the mirror.

Dare you say it? You look pretty.

You’ve never looked this pretty before.

You happily take out the dainty gold heart necklace you had carefully tucked into your top desk drawer, struggling for a few seconds before you manage to clasp it around your neck. You quickly pull the pendant towards the front before slipping on the strappy sandals you left next to your desk. You grab the cute purse you bought last week, now packed with the perfect essentials, and give yourself one last once over.

You have nowhere to go, but you decide to take a walk to the dining hall. After all, you’re dressed up so nicely, makeup done so perfectly, you can’t waste it on another night stuffing your face with hot Cheetos and rewatching the first season of Haikyuu!!. Opening your door, you step out and nearly run into someone. 

“Oh, finally, you’re done, doll. I thought you died in there or some…”

His eyes widening in utter shock, his next word dies on the tip of his tongue when Jaemin sees you standing in front of him. His mouth falls open slightly before he quickly closes it to swallow harshly, his throat running dry. He’s never seen you like this before, never imagined that you’d be this pretty. He inhales sharply, stiffening slightly as his eyes rake over your figure, seeing how the dress perfectly accentuates your figure, and settles on your face.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?” Your eyes widen slightly before your cheeks grow warm when you notice his stunned reaction.

“Um,” he croaks out, voice cracking before he quickly swallows again, silently cursing when puberty decides to make a belated appearance. “Lia texted me that you were done, so I wanted to see how it went. You look… wow.”

Your cheeks heat up even further, and you laugh a little nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “R-really? It’s not too much?”

“No!” He immediately blurts out before his cheeks flush carmine. “I—I mean, you look really good. You should dress like this more often.”

You can’t stop the smile spreading across your face, and Jaemin’s heart flip flops in his chest. “Really? Thank you, I will then.”

“Of course, really. I picked the dress myself after all,” He tries to joke before hastily clearing his throat. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. I was just going to go to the dining hall and grab some food,” you answer awkwardly, shifting your purse over your shoulder slightly and tightening your fingers around its strap.

“Let me take you out for dinner.” Jaemin blurts out, a little high pitched, mentally facepalming at how he sounds. “I mean, we can go over some of the harder problems in that packet since I probably need more studying anyway, and I’ll teach you a couple more dating tricks.”

“Sure, okay, that sounds good.” You give him a wider beam, and Jaemin feels his heart beat a little faster. Maybe you don’t need that much teaching from him after all. Seems like you’re a quick learner.

v. life is plastic, it’s fantastic!

“The only thing you’re fucking is stupid.”

“Shut the hell up, Yeonjun. At least I’m not sticking my dick in crazy.”

You watch the light argument going on between Jeno and Yeonjun in amusement. You and Jaemin had just finished your ninth tutoring session two hours ago, and you think he’s getting on track to actually scoring a decent grade for the next midterm. You were initially going to head towards Lana and Moon’s dorm for your weekly anime show marathon, but Jaemin insisted that you stop by the Alpha Sigma Psi house for a small party. Giselle and Karina are both part of that house, so you figured it couldn’t hurt to make a quick appearance. Good thing you spent some time touching up your makeup before today’s tutoring session.

“Hey, doll! Join the photo,” Jaemin calls out to you, gesturing you towards the area he and the rest of his friends are standing. You see another really pretty girl—Minjeong, was it?—standing on the side, holding up a phone and preparing to take the picture.

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I can just take the photo instead,” you laugh awkwardly, extending your hand out towards Minjeong, but Jeno gently nudges you forward, “No way, you never take pics with us. Just one, come on, Y/N.”

“Yeah, join us!” Jaemin says brightly, tugging you towards him and you stumble slightly, falling forward into his chest. You quickly catch yourself, hands suddenly pressed against his chest, and the blood rushes to your face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you start to babble, trying to push yourself away before Jaemin quickly wraps his arm around your waist. “Nope, you’re staying here, it’s just a few pics, please, doll?”

“I—I mean, I don’t really—”

You start to say before Minjeong’s voice cuts through the air. “Okay, I’m taking it in five seconds now. So get ready and pose or be ready to live with the consequences on Insta forever.” 

Everyone immediately shuffles around, and you’re squeezed even tighter against Jaemin, and you just know that he can feel your heart pounding rapidly against his chest.

“Smile, doll,” Jaemin laughs gently, squeezing your hip lightly and you inhale sharply at that, your heart rate spiking and increasing exponentially. You muster up a few shaky smiles as the flash starts to go off.

After a few more pictures, you manage to untangle yourself from the group and hurriedly go towards Minjeong. “I can take the pictures, you should join in.”

She immediately brightens up at that, giving you a kilowatt smile as she hands you the phone and slips into your original position in between Jaemin and Karina. “Oh, thanks, Y/N.”

You wait a few moments for everyone to get readjusted before you begin to snap some photos, having already mastered this from the previous hang outs you’ve joined and knowing how to take the best angles for everyone, including all the 0.5 zoom out ones. After taking some additional group and solo photos for the girls, you’re finally free of your duties. Your eyes widen when you check the time on your phone, and you hurriedly make your way over to Jaemin.

“Hey, I need to get going now. I have to get to Lana and Moon’s dorm, so I’ll see you later,” you say quickly, already beginning to brush past him as the realization sets in that it’s been over an hour when you told your friends that you would only be fifteen minutes late.

“Wait, what? Hey, hold on, doll.” Jaemin reaches out to you, but you slip past him, calling over your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m late!”

He strides over, soon matching your pace as you speed walk back to the freshman dormitories. “Can’t you slow down a little bit? It’s not like you all haven’t seen these episodes before, plus we watched a few of them together after our last tutoring session.”

“Yeah, but I’m over an hour late,” you stress, slightly frazzled now as you hurriedly type out an apology to send to the group chat.

“Just breathe, okay? You’ll be fine. They’re your friends. They should understand,” Jaemin reassures you, grabbing your hand and you freeze slightly. He notices your stop and teases lightly, “I said slow down, not stop. What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” you stammer out a little too quickly, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. He’s holding your hand. Na Jaemin is hand in hand with you, fingers intertwined. You almost want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming.

“Well, alright then, come on, let me walk you back,” Jaemin laughs before tugging you along. “You can help me pick out which pictures to post on Insta along the way, too, yeah?”

“Oh, sure,” you say breathlessly, your heart rate quickening to an embarrassing speed when he squeezes your hand gently, and you nesrly trip over your own feet.

“Perfect, so what about this one?” He holds up his phone to show you the picture you had taken for the group earlier, and you falter slightly. Why are you feeling a little disappointed with his choice?

Jaemin notices your hesitation and says a little softly, “I know you’re a private person. So I thought you’d prefer if I posted the group photo you took. You always take the best pictures for me, too. You know my good side the best. And it’d be weird if Hyuck saw, too, right? But did you want the other photo? I mean, if you really want it, I can..?”

“No!” You hurriedly say to reassure him, squeezing his hand lightly. “No, you’re right. I don’t want my picture out there. And um, yeah, that definitely wouldn’t be good if Hyuck saw.”

Jaemin gives you a relieved smile. “Yeah, exactly. You’re not upset, right, doll? We still have that fun pic of us and our homemade pizzas from earlier that I posted on my finsta. I didn’t know making pizzas would be that easy.”

“Of course not, don’t worry about it,” you laugh softly, continuing to walk back to the freshman dormitories, and Jaemin swings your joined hands between the two of you freely.

“Mm, I’m getting free cooking and tutoring lessons in exchange for dating tips. Two for the price of one is quite the good deal for me, right?” Jaemin teases lightly, and you let out another laugh.

“You’re right, it is. You better step up your game then.”

“Oh, just you wait, you’ll get dating tips and a boyfriend, so we’ll be even,” Jaemin chuckles softly, squeezing your hand, and the butterflies erupt in your stomach once again, and you muster up the courage to say something a little more teasing.

“Is that a guarantee?”

“Well, you have a demand, and I must supply, right?”

“…I don’t think that’s how it quite goes, Jaemin. Maybe you need a few more tutoring sessions.”

“All I hear is that you want to spend more time with me,” Jaemin laughs, giving you the prettiest smile, and your cheeks warm up even more, heart stuttering in your chest. Speechless, you let him continue on, his chattering filling the air as you listen with quiet content, your hand securely tucked in his for the remainder of the walk back.

vi. you can brush my hair.

Jaemin sits on the edge of his chair across from you at the table in the dorm common area, anxiously tapping his fingers against the flat surface. You are down to the last page of the mock exam packet, carefully going over his work with a red pen. You made minimal marks on the papers, a stark contrast to the very first practice exam he had worked on near the start of your tutoring. At that point in time, he didn’t even get to the end of the exam.

“Amazing.”

You say in awe, scanning through the last problem Jaemin had completed before tallying up his final score and calculating his results. “I can’t believe it. You got an 87.”

“No fucking way,” Jaemin is wide eyed, staring at you in disbelief, and you give him a wide smile, sliding the packet over to him, so that he can look over the exam and notes you’ve written for the problems he missed. 

“Yes fucking way.”

“Holy shit, this is insane,” Jaemin breathes out, carefully reading through each page, and to his utter amazement, he understands every note and explanation you had added next to each incorrect question. He looks up at you, beaming, “I really got a B+?”

“You did,” you confirm, smiling back at him. “And who knows? It might become an A if the exam gets curved.”

“Oh my god, I owe you my life,” Jaemin chuckles, staring down at the graded exam in front of him, still in disbelief. “Seriously, doll, thank you so much.”

“Oh, of course, anytime,” you laugh sheepishly, twisting the rings adorning your fingers around nervously before averting your attention elsewhere, standing up to go towards the adjacent communal kitchen and carrying your filled tote bag with you. “A—Anyway, I brought some things to celebrate a job well done so far.”

“And how did you know I would’ve done well? What if I completely bombed that exam?” Jaemin teases you, standing up and following after you.

“I don’t know, I guess I just believed in you,” you stutter out, cheeks warming up as you set down your tote bag on the counter, unable to look him in the eyes, and he freezes, mulling over your words silently.

You believe in him? Someone who’s a hopeless cause? He honestly didn’t even believe in himself, he thinks to himself, his chest constricting uncomfortably, a foreign feeling making its entrance known to him, constricting around his heart. He inhales sharply, shoving it away with an easy going smile. “Is that so? Well, thanks, Y/N. And what are we doing now?”

“Making pancakes,” you answer, busying yourself with pulling out the ingredients from your tote bag. “You need to be well fed before the midterm. Your brain needs food. And the class is at 8 am, and neither of us are not morning people, so this is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Pancakes?” Jaemin echoes after you, glancing at the various items strewn across the counter’s surface. “Does it really take this many ingredients? Isn’t it just the box mix and water?”

“That’s the short cut way. We’re making pancakes from scratch,” you laugh softly, taking out a mixing bowl and whisk along with the measuring cups and spoons. 

“But why? It’s so much easier the other way.” Jaemin whines softly, and you chuckle lightly. “Trust me, it’s worth the effort.”

You hand the one cup measuring utensil and bowl to Jaemin and nudge him towards the flour. “Help me measure out two cups of flour.”

“Alright,” he sighs, opening the bag of flour and carefully scooping out the first cup, scraping off any excess before dumping it into the bowl before repeating the process. “What next?”

“Four tablespoons of sugar,” you answer, handing him the sugar and appropriate measuring utensil before working on measuring four teaspoons of baking powder and a quarter of a teaspoon of baking soda. You pour those to the mixing bowl as Jaemin quietly measures the sugar and adds it in as well before waiting for your next instructions. You quickly drop in half of a teaspoon of salt before pushing the bowl towards him. “Now whisk this together gently, please.”

Jaemin busies himself with combining the dry ingredients as you take out half a stick of butter from the fridge (The one labeled with your name, of course. You’re no food thief, unlike someone who’s been stealing other people’s leftover takeout). You microwave it to get four tablespoons of melted butter before making your way to Jaemin’s side.

“Okay, now make a well in the center of it,” you say, and Jaemin clumsily makes an indent in the dry mixture before looking towards you for approval.

“Perfect, now add in two teaspoons of vanilla extract and crack the egg into it there,” you instruct him, and he obediently follows your directions. You measure out one and three quarters cups of milk and add it to the well before also pouring in the melted butter.

“Do I just whisk it together now?” Jaemin asks, picking up the whisk again, and you nod.

“Yes, mix it all together. It’s fine if there’s a few lumps, but it should be smooth overall.” Your eyes trail over his face, and you stifle a small laugh. “You got a little something on your cheek.”

“What?” Jaemin looks up, pausing in his whisking and you can’t help but giggle, staring at the flour dusting his cheek. “There’s flour on your face.”

“Oh, really? Can you wipe it off for me?” Jaemin laughs softly, attempting to brush at it with his shoulder but failing to reach that high.

“Oh, s-sure,” you stammer slightly, your hand quivering slightly as you outstretch your fingers and gingerly brush your fingertips against the apple of his cheek. His sun kissed skin is warm beneath your fingertips, and your breath hitches in your throat before you gently wipe away the remaining residue. You can feel his gaze searing into your face, but you refuse to look him directly in the eyes.

“There, all done,” you murmur, hastily pulling away and taking a step back. Jaemin lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. He clears his throat, setting down the bowl. “I think this is all done, too.”

“Oh, great, that’s great,” you say, immediately focusing on the bowl before carrying it with you towards the stove, turning it on. “Let’s set this to medium-low heat. And I’ll add some butter to the pan, so the pancake won’t stick.”

Jaemin hands you the leftover butter and pan for you to set onto the stove. You use the spatula to move around a pat of butter, coating the pan nicely. Once the stove is ready and the butter starts to sizzle slightly, you pour a quarter cup of the batter onto the pan, expertly flicking your wrist to rotate the pan and cause the batter to form a perfect circle. You pull out a small container of blueberries, sprinkling some of them on top.

“Woah.” Jaemin watches you, impressed. “Teach me how to do that.”

“This? It’s easy,” you laugh softly, checking on the pancake until its underside is golden and small bubbles start to form on the top. You quickly move the pan, flipping the pancake onto its other side. “You can try making the next one.”

“Yeah? Will you wrap your arms around me and give me the one on one experience?” Jaemin jokes lightheartedly, and you nearly choke. “I mean—I don’t think that's completely necessary.”

“Relax, doll, I’m just kidding,” he laughs softly, nudging you gently, and you let out an awkward laugh. “Oh, totally. Just a joke.”

Once the pancake is golden on both sides, you carefully slide it onto a plate Jaemin pulled out from one of the cabinets. Your heart rate finally returns to its normal state, and you manage to say calmly, “Maple syrup and whipped cream are in the fridge.” 

Jaemin takes out the aforementioned toppings, generously slathering on some butter before pouring the syrup and spraying whipped cream onto the pancake. He cuts out a small piece and quickly spears it onto his fork before taking the bite, nearly moaning in delight at the first taste.

“Holy crap, this is so fucking good.”

“My secret recipe,” you say proudly as you start to pour the batter for a second pancake, evenly spreading it on the pan. “Was it worth the effort?”

“Yes.” Jaemin swallows, almost immediately going for another bite before he gazes at you, giving you a genuine smile, and your heart rate again increases to an alarming speed.

“Definitely worth it.”

vii. undress me everywhere.

You finish the midterm in forty five minutes, being the first one to turn in your completed exam. This  means you finished twenty minutes before the class ends and consequently, either failed it spectucularly or knocked it out of the park. You really hope it’s the latter.

Despite being rather preoccupied with other matters a.k.a. your suddenly thriving social life, you managed to cram in some studying here and there because your mother would absolutely kill you if you lost your provost scholarship. Gifted kid burnout? Who’s that? You never heard of her before (Just kidding, you’ve had plenty of breakdowns and cry fests over calculating bond values and stock prices).

Now outside of the classroom in one of the open study alcoves, you drop your Longchamp bag on the empty chair next to you before tugging at the back of your jean skirt before carefully sitting down. You make sure to readjust your bra straps, tucking them under the ruched fabric of your white shirt. Tapping your fingers against the scratched surface of the table, you briefly admire the shimmery gold ombré manicure adorning your nails that Jaemin had chosen last week. You pull out a compact from the inner side pocket of your purse, carefully checking your makeup to ensure it is still in pristine condition before quickly swiping in another layer of your Buxom plumping lip gloss in the best shade: fir royale.

The flurry of text messages pinging across your screen quickly catches your attention, and you tuck your mirror and tube of lip gloss away before scrolling through them, letting out a quiet scoff at Karina’s latest melodramatic outburst in the clout chasers group chat:

[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear ✨: guys, gals, and yuckjun

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: what tf ??? why are you calling me out

[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear ✨: shut up or else I won’t make out with you anymore

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

[ 11:46 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: are you that touch starved bro

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: anyway as i was saying

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: this skank in my marketing class has been copying my outfits and posting them on her insta and she has like 10k followers now

[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: time to tear a bitch apart

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: like look at this shit

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: sent {10 images.jpeg}

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: my followers are gonna rip her apart

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: she’s downgrading my brand

[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: dw girl i’ll do a response video so my followers will see too

[ 11:48 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: she can’t get away with this

[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear ✨: loved a message

[ 11:48 a.m. ] somi amor 💋: idk… they’re similar styles but that’s what popular rn

[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear ✨: it’s gonna be song jia 2.0 watergate

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: just say you’re broke and go

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: if she’s gonna plagiarize me, she better do it right like bffr walmart version 

[ 11:49 a.m. ] somi amor 💋: you have proof they’re fake? 

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: i mean fake bitch fake bags right

[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: idk she’s kinda hot

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: shut up jen be like your hairline and fall back

[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: HELLO ?! back me up yeonjun

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: um

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

[ 11:51 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: if you wanna be fucking stupid then knock yourself out

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: loved a message

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: hey my place tonight jun 🥰

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: are you gonna listen to your own advice yj

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: excuse me ????

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: 🤐🤐🤐

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: proverbs 26:11

“Hey, doll, what’s so funny?” 

Jaemin appears next to you, and you let out a startled squeak, jumping in your seat, and he laughs, quickly placing his hands on your shoulders to steady you. You look at him wide eyed for a few seconds, his question not yet registering in your mind, and he waits patiently for your answer.

“Oh!” Your eyes light up, and he smiles at the endearing sight. “Just Karina ranting about something and Yeonjun being whipped.”

“Ah, so the usual?” He reaches for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and you stand up, pulling your skirt down once more to ensure you’re covered. The two of you start to make your way out of the Langley Hall. 

“Yep. How was the midterm for you?”

He brightens up, opening the door for you and you thank him. “It wasn’t too bad at all! I actually understood like 90% of the questions and for the others, I was able to narrow down the answers between two choices, so 50/50 chance, fingers crossed I picked the right one.”

You beam when you hear that, and he returns the smile, eyes crinkling in the corners, and you pretend to wipe away faux tears. “I feel like a proud mom.”

“I think my mom actually will be proud,” he says, eyes scanning the cars parked on the nearby street before finding his. He grabs your hand, tugging you along. “C’mon, we gotta go celebrate that our misery is over until finals week. Plus, we gotta prep you when you talk to Hyuck.”

“Wait, what?” You abruptly stop short, and he nearly loses his grip on your hand. “When am I talking to him?”

“This Saturday. You’re coming with me to the Nu Chi party, right?”

“Since when? I don’t go to parties,” you protest, “They’re too loud and noisy, and beer is gross and—”

“You went to the Alpha Sigma one a few weeks ago though?” Jaemin interrupts, and you shake your head. “That was a small party though. This one is the party of the semester. What if I embarrassed myself in front of the entire school?”

“Parties are the prime time for meeting people and getting to know them because alcohol makes everyone friendlier and people don’t stay within their friend groups,” Jaemin interrupts. “Do you really believe that you’ll get him to like you by, I don’t know, one day, your eyes will meet across the classroom, and he’ll fall madly in love with you? This isn’t one of your fanfics, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, letting go of his hand on purpose, and he frowns, bottom lip jutting out in a pout before reaching out for your hand again. You swiftly dodge him, and he whines, quickly snatching your hand up and lacing your and his fingers together.

“I hope this isn’t how you’ll treat him on your date. Thank god we’re doing a trial run right now.”

“A trial run?” you echo him, and he nods, flashing you that favorite smile of his that never fails to make you weak in the knees.

“Well, we have to make sure your first date goes perfectly so there will be a second, right? Practice makes perfect,” he says matter-of-factly, and you nod slowly in agreement. The logic makes sense somehow. 

“Okay, so where would you pick for a first date?”

“Maybe a cute cafe? Oh, there’s that one place: Cloudy with a Chance of Boba!” You brighten up, thinking about that boba shop’s menu you spent a good half hour scrolling through on Yelp last night.

“Mm, the most popular place right now is that ramen place on the end of Maisie Street. It’d probably be best to go there,” he muses, tugging you along via your intertwined hands. You nearly stumble in your heeled sandals but swiftly catch yourself.

“O-oh, okay, so are we going there now?”

“Nah, let’s do the ice cream place next door to it. Not really feeling noodles at the moment.” He stops to look over his shoulder at you, and you run into his back, causing him to let go before quickly reaching out and grabbing your arms to steady you. “Woah, be careful.”

“Sorry.” You’re flustered, your cheeks now growing hotter than a furnace. Jaemin reaches forward, his finger carefully swiping at the smudged lip gloss on the corner of your lip. “Where’s your lip gloss? You should reapply this.”

Eyes widening, he then shifts and peers behind him, craning his neck to the side in all attempts to look at the back of his shirt. “There’s not a mark on my shirt, right?” 

You quickly rub off any shimmery residue. “It’s fine, your shirt is dark blue, so you can’t see it anymore.” 

“Oh, good. Wait, where’s your lip gloss?” You fish through your bag, pulling out the tube and handing it to Jaemin. He uncaps it, giving you the lower half of the gloss before gently grasping your chin with one hand. He leans forward and tilts your head towards him, his eyes focused on your lips. The butterflies in your stomach erupt in an instant. You try so hard to stand still, fidgeting with one of the rings on your finger behind your back. 

Jaemin’s face is so close to yours that you can count every single long dark eyelash that frames his pretty eyes. His lips are the prettiest shade of carmine, and you wonder what it’s like to be Aphrodite’s favorite child. How lucky you are to already be basking in the attention of her favorite; imagine how much luckier he is to be her favorite.

The beautiful boy in front of you carefully applies the gloss for you, fully concentrating on coating your lips with a pretty sheen once again. When he glances up, he’s almost blown away by the way you’re looking at him. 

You look stunning, pretty as a picture in VOGUE magazine. Not quite the cover page, but you’re nearly there. A swell of pride runs through his veins, like an artist admiring his latest masterpiece on show in MOMA.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat, handing back to you the lip gloss. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

“Alright.” You follow behind him like a lost puppy, and he reaches back to grab your hand and interlace your fingers. Your heart nearly skips a beat as your cheeks grow warmer once again, and for a split second, you wonder if he feels the same way.

“We’re here,” Jaemin announces, letting go of your hand to open the shop’s door, the bell above it jingling faintly as he gestures for you to go inside.

You enter the pretty shop, marveling the clean and simple interior with circular white tables and matching garden iron chairs surrounding each one. There’s bright greenery and plants decorating the edges of the shop, and the wall is covered in mismatched frames of paintings and pictures in various sizes and colors. The cheeky neon sign displayed near the front read, “It’s not gonna lick itself!”, and you laugh softly when you see it. The display of different colorful ice creams at the front are absolutely enticing, and you’re already struggling to decide which two flavors to pick.

You finally decide on a Vietnamese coffee and honeycomb swirl, accepting it from the cashier before you start to pull out your wallet. Before you can even pull out your card, Jaemin taps his phone against the screen, paying for both yours and his.

“Never pay on the first date,” he chides you lightly, picking up his ice cream. “Always let the guy pay for the first date.”

“Oh, but shouldn’t we at least split it?” You ask sheepishly, walking towards a table near the back that he gestures towards. He follows behind you, picking up some spoons and napkins.

“If the guy is so broke that he can’t pay $7 for your ice cream, then he shouldn’t be out dating anyway. He should be getting a job,” Jaemin retorts, tugging your chair out for you before sitting across from you and handing you a spoon and napkin. “Don’t you watch that Shera lady? Sprinkle, sprinkle and all that jazz. Maybe you can split for the future dates, but if the guy has any basic decency, he would pay for the first one.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” you sigh, taking a hefty scoop of your ice cream and having the first bite. It’s delicious, and you make a mental note to buy a pint and bring back to your dorm to share with Giselle later.

The two of you continue to discuss various appropriate topics to broach on a first date (“Hey Jaemin, you like cheese? My favorite’s Gouda.” “… Please do not ask that.”). You quickly jot down bullet points in your Notes app, your fingers flying over the screen as Jaemin instructs you on good conversational starters and body language.

“So you just need to touch him on his upper forearm and then pull away. Stroke his ego and say he’s funny or some shit like that. At least you don’t have to force yourself to laugh with him though because Hyuck is naturally funny anyway. And he’s good at keeping up the conversation and a people person, so it won’t be awkward even for your first date,” Jaemin continues as you nod, rapidly typing what he says.

“And at the end of the date, touch his shoulder again, glance down at his lips for a brief second before making eye contact. If he’s bold enough, he’ll go for the first kiss. But then just immediately smile and say you had a great time before he can lean in. After that, he won’t stop thinking about that moment, and it’ll drive him crazy, and he’ll be texting you for a second date within the next day.”

“Mm, okay, I think I got it,” you mumble absentmindedly, engrossed in writing down the last few bullet points and Jaemin leans over to take a closer look at your phone, his eyes flitting over the screen.

“So for the last point, do I have to deny the first kiss then? Smile and walk away before he leans in and…” 

You start to ask until you look up, and your breath hitches in your throat at the close proximity, your and his noses almost brushing. Jaemin is so pretty, even prettier when you can count the few freckles dotting his face, can clearly see the mesmerizing golden flecks dotting his irises, can admire the way his lips look so soft and curve into the picture perfect smile. Your heart thumps wildly, nearly falling onto the floor along with your jaw when you glance up from staring at his lips and see that he’s already looking back at you with the softest expression on his face.

“You don’t have to,” Jaemin murmurs, and your heart stutters in your chest as he moves in closer, his lashes brushing against your cheek, and suddenly, his lips are pressed against yours. They’re pink and soft and slot perfectly against yours in a way that has your heart skipping beats and stomach doing cartwheels.

Eyes widening, you freeze up, letting out a quiet squeak of surprise, before he pulls away, giving you an amused smile. The lingering warmth on your lips makes your cheeks heat up, and you have to break eye contact, stammering over your words as you gently graze your fingers over your lips in wonderment.

Jaemin laughs softly as he leans back in his chair. “We’ll have to work on this too then. You’re kissing like it’s a Park Shinhye kdrama.”

You’re still dazed, cheeks growing even warmer as you avoid his gaze, fiddling with the loose thread on the hem of your skirt. “That was my first kiss.”

Jaemin pauses at the realization, his cheeks flushing slightly before he clears his throat, giving you a half smile and a light chuckle, “Oh, really? That’s cute, doll. Well, I’ll teach you some tips, so you’ll be better at it by the time you ask Hyuck out. At least you got a decent first kiss, right? No big deal.”

“Yeah, no big deal,” you echo softly, your heart still racing at breakneck speed. You pretend to focus on the remnants of your ice cream in the bottom of your paper cup, fingers gripping around the container tightly.

Jaemin was right.

You don’t think you’ll be able to stop thinking about this moment anytime soon.

viii. come on, barbie, let’s go party!

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Moon asks worriedly, helping you with your makeup as you sit, perched on the edge of your bed. She uncaps your eyeliner as Lana fusses with your shirt, smoothing out any of the wrinkles. “Actually, I can’t do it. You do it, Yang. You’re an expert at this.”

“Alright, give it to me.” Yangyang comes over, grabbing the eyeliner and expertly draws on the wing above your right eye. “Years of cosplay have finally come in handy. Although, I still can’t believe you’re putting in all this effort for Jaemin.”

“I need to look pretty. He usually does my makeup for me, but he’s busy right now,” you mumble, twisting the ring around your finger anxiously. “It’s my first time going to a party. I can’t embarrass him when he’s a ten.”

“Yeah, in rupees,” Yangyang scoffs, and Lana frowns at you, stopping in her tracks. “Don't talk about yourself like that. You’re already pretty, and if anything, you should be embarrassed to be seen with that slime ball. I can’t believe he doesn’t even have the decency to pick you up. Why are you the one going to his place?”

“He has some frat meeting right now,” you answer, glancing down at your newly manicured nails. The pearl color shimmers under the light, and you can’t help but admire it even more. You wish they were a little shorter, but they really do look quite pretty.

“What meeting? We’re in the same frat. Also, hold still,” Yangyang huffs, holding your chin as he draws on the left wing over your eye. “We need them to look like twins, not cousins twice removed.”

“I don’t know, he just said there was some meeting,” you mumble, holding perfectly still until he finally finishes. “Maybe it was a one on one meeting or something, who knows?”

“I still think he’s shady,” Lana grumbles, and Moon nods as well. “Yeah, like the first kiss thing?”

“It’s no big deal,” you wave your hand dismissively, hopping off of your bed and taking a look at yourself in your mirror. “Better to get it over with, right? I mean, imagine being this old and not having your first kiss yet.”

“Is that what he said to you?” Moon huffs, affronted, and you shift in your place uncomfortably. “No, of course not. It’s just—everyone gets their first kiss when they’re like fourteen or fifteen, right?”

“That’s not the point,” Lana says indignantly, tucking your hair behind your ear carefully. “You wanted it to be special, didn’t you? It just feels like… he took something away from you.”

“He didn’t. I wanted this,” you answer loudly, ignoring the way your stomach flip flops as you try not to think back to that moment. He kissed you, he really does like you back, he might have not said it out loud, but he knows how much it means to you (Wouldn’t he?).

“Okay, as long as you’re happy,” Moon gives in, and she and Lana exchange a worried look that goes unnoticed by you. But what can they do? They can continue to try convincing you, but it will never work when it falls on deaf ears. 

“I am,” you insist, avoiding your friends’ gazes and staring at yourself back in the mirror. Moon attempts to lift the mood again, offering you a tentative smile in the reflection. “This whole thing is like a whole emotional rollercoaster, and Yangyang is definitely not tall enough to ride.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m literally almost six foot tall,” Yangyang shoots back, and you laugh, relaxing once more as you watch your friends start to bicker again.

“Listen, you can’t be delusional and short. Pick a struggle.” Moon counters, and Lana agrees, handing you your phone to tuck into your pocket. “She’s right. You carry yourself with the confidence of a much taller man.”

You smile fondly as the bickering between your friends continues. You miss them, you realize with a jolting pang of regret, you haven’t been hanging out with them as often as you used to. In fact, the majority of your weeks are spent with Jaemin and his friends.

It’s your first cold dose of reality, and you’re hit with a startling truth. You haven’t been a very good friend lately.

—

Lana drove you to the Nu Chi Theta house, and you felt like a kindergartener being dropped for her first day of school. Your face feels hot as a wave of embarrassment rushes over you as you notice the amount of glances you receive from the insanely pretty girls and boys already on the front lawn and streaming out from the front door. You quickly exit the vehicle, hurriedly waving good bye over your shoulder before making your way into the house, almost tripping over the raised walkway.

You wander around the house, searching for Jaemin and quickly sidestepping a through the couples and other students dancing around, nearly getting bowled over by someone you recognize from your school’s football team. He gives you a quick once over before offering a half apology, eyes set on another girl on the other side of the room. You take a deep breath before pushing your way into the next room, finally spotting Jaemin with his friends, minus Jeno and Somi, by the staircase and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” you say breathlessly, squeezing through two couples busily making out in the doorway and wincing slightly when you jostle both of them, causing them to give you dirty looks before resuming their activities. 

“Oh, hi, Y/N!” Karina says brightly, giving you a perfect smile and reaching over to squeeze your arm gently. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”

“My first frat party? Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” you laugh, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear nervously before fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Jaemin gives you a small smile, and you return it with a slightly shaky one, your eyes flickering towards the fading pink, glossy lip mark staining the collar of his shirt. The color is much too dark to be Jaemin’s, and your stomach churns slightly.

“You look so pretty, Y/N, I love the confidence,” Lia chimes in, gently pinching the fabric of your skirt between her manicured fingers. “I love this, you’ll have to let me borrow it sometime.”

“Oh, of course! You can borrow it anytime,” you agree quickly, flashing her a slightly forced smile before glancing over at Jaemin again, unsure what to do.

“Where do you shop?” Yeonjun asks, glancing over at your outfit. “The shirt is nice, too.”

“Oh my god, yes, we have to go shopping together sometime, and you’ll have to show me all the good places,” Karina cuts in, nudging you gently before letting out a sigh, looking over at Lia. “God, I’ve been feeling so fat lately, like freshman twenty might be getting to me.”

“No, same, I’ve been extending my gym sessions and doing Pilates,” Lia huffs softly, and you remain silent, switching your weight around on each foot, glancing over at Jaemin helplessly.

“I need another drink. You coming, Y/N?” Jaemin finally speaks up before brushing past Yeonjun, and you hurriedly follow behind him, careful not to fall behind or get swept away. He quickly pushes through to the kitchen, finding a spot next to the counter covered in various bottles of cheap alcohol and stacks of red solo cups dispersed in between.

“You want one?” Jaemin asks, extending a shot of vodka he just poured out towards you, and you shake your head before he gives a wry smile. “You sure? It’ll help with the nerves. You were shaking back there.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “You noticed?”

“Everybody noticed,” he snorted, handing you the cup, and you wince slightly before holding your nose and downing it in one go. “Give me another then.”

“Atta girl,” Jaemin hands you another shot and you take that one just as quickly, making a face that causes him to smile subconsciously. As he pours himself a cup of beer, he spots Donghyuck by the pool out back, and a knot settles in his stomach uncomfortably. He almost doesn’t want to tell you, and he doesn’t know why. It’s just because he worked so hard to make you look this good, and his loudmouth friend gets to reap all the benefits, he tells himself, taking a swig of his drink, Donghyuck doesn’t know how lucky he is.

Ignoring all the stop signs and whistles going off in his head, he gestures towards Donghyuck outside, clenching the red cup in his hand a little tighter than normal. “There’s your chance. Gotta do it before the alcohol wears off.”

“Oh, um, actually, I wanted to talk to you,” you stammer out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear again (It’s one of your habits when you’re nervous, and he thinks it might be his favorite). He pushes down the growing knot in his stomach.

“We’ll talk later, yeah? You can’t miss this,” Jaemin insists before nudging you in the direction of the pool outside despite your soft protests.

“W-wait, I  jus—” you say desperately, but Jaemin merely waves you off before disappearing back into the party inside. You let out a sigh, shoulders sagging slightly. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him after all the effort he put in these past four weeks.

You’ll tell him later.

—

“Oh? Where’s your little Barbie doll, Jaemin?” Karina simpers as she lazily taps her pretty manicured nails against the half filled red solo cup in her other hand when Jaemin returns to his original spot. “Have you gotten bored of playing with her yet?”

“It’s not like that,” Jaemin answers hotly, “She’s… fun. She makes me laugh.”

“How? By looking at her?” Yeonjun snorts, chugging his own cup before crinkling it in his fist. Jaemin wants to throw up. “We thought you just did this because you’ve been having a dry spell and were bored. Where is she anyway?

 “She’s talking to Hyuck right now,” Jaemin mumbles meekly, shoulders slightly hunched over as he stares into the depths of his own solo cup.

“Really? I mean, is she even his type?” Lia asks skeptically, straightening up in her spot to see if she can spot you or Donghyuck anywhere. “If anything, I thought her friend—the pretty English major one—would be his type. How is she anyone’s type?”

“Hey, he turned her from a four to a solid eight. She might even go up half a point once you introduce her to an exercise and diet plan.” Karina says offhandedly, raising her cup towards him in mock salute before taking a sip.

“Yeah, how are you going to do that? It’s not like you can even sugarcoat it for her because then she’d eat it too,” Yeonjun throws out with a smirk, and Jaemin feels sick to his stomach, the nauseating feeling growing exponentially and gnawing at him as his friend continues, “I mean she’s probably already on the seafood diet because she sees any food and just eats it. How can you even stand her, Jae? The way she just follows you around like a puppy. Isn’t it annoying?”

“God, I know, the way she basically chases after us like a lap dog is so pathetic. At least she takes good insta pics for us though, so she’s somewhat useful. But we had that one really good group photo at that last party, and she totally ruined the picture. You can’t even crop her out because she had to stand next to you, Jae,” Lia complains, rolling her eyes, and Karina laughs, taking out her phone and scrolling through her photos.

“Oh my god, I know  the exact photo you’re talking about. It’s this one, right? She practically threw herself into your arms,” She flashes her screen towards the group, and Jaemin wants to shrink and crawl into a hole somewhere and die. Was it the best photo of you? No. Was it the worst? Maybe close to it. You’re standing sideways and still taking up more space in the photo than the others, and the flash photography did not do any favors for you. You stand out even worse than Will Smith in the sunflower costume meme. He cringes inwardly, noting the way your skirt had rolled up and you’re smiling a little too widely. He makes a mental note to help you practice  better, more flattering poses later on.

“You know that famous baby hippo? Moo Deng? I think we found her twin from the future,” Yeonjun barks out a laugh, reaching over and zooming in on you as Karina smirks before putting away her phone. Lia giggles and glances over at Jaemin, scrutinizing his reaction before a sly expression makes an appearance on her face, saying coyly, “You have a crush on her, don’t you?”

Jaemin flushes, embarrassment coating his cheeks, and he immediately snaps, “Shut up, I might be lonely, but I’m not despera—”

“Oh, Y/N!” Lia says loudly, effectively cutting Jaemin short. “How did it go? Are you and Hyuck gonna be the new couple on campus?”

Immediately, his heart drops even further to his stomach, and Jaemin whirls around to see you standing a few feet away. Did Lia know you were there?  How long were you standing there? Did you hear them? Did you hear every horrible thing they said about you?

“Oh, Donghyuck said he wasn’t interested, but he was nice about it,” you say, offering a vague smile in Jaemin’s direction, and he nearly breathes a sigh of relief as his heart starts to slow back down to its normal rate. A part of him is glad that Donghyuck rejected you, and he nearly misses what you say next, too caught up in this unfamiliar feeling.

“I think I’m going to head back to my dorm. I’m a little tired. Thank you for inviting me.”

With that, you turn away and walk off, but something still doesn’t feel right to Jaemin. It’s a split second decision but for once, he puts his heart over his mind and chases after you, ignoring the increasing whispers from his friends and their eyes searing into his back.

ix. raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by na jaemin.

Jaemin is right on your heels the entire time you walk back to your dorm. All he receives is stony silence from you that he fills with babbling nonsense, asking you what’s wrong to no avail. When you finally enter your dorm, you turn to him at last, and he perks up. However, the two words that come out of your mouth have him deflating faster than Yangyang’s ego when Alice called him a shitty kisser with too much saliva (“You’re supposed to make me wet down there, not up here. Honestly, dude, if I wanted to drown myself, I would’ve jumped into the ocean.”).

“We’re done.”

You decide to bite the bullet.

After freeing your feet from their pointy death contraptions, you peel off each layer of clothing one by one, unzipping the mini skirt and kicking it away before tugging at the spandex, unleashing the breath you’ve been holding in since 8 a.m. to fit into it. There’s still indents marking the dips in your waist and your thighs, a lasting reminder that stays like an embarrassing stain. You fling that abhorrent piece of elastic elsewhere, and it falls near the end of your bed, out of sight behind the pile of textbooks you haven’t touched for the past three days.

“Hold on, what are you talking about? We made so much progress. You wanted to do this,” Jaemin protests, following after you and picking up the discarded garments you threw haphazardly. He waves around the skirt like a white flag. “You wanted to be in the popular crowd, and you got it. You’re this close to dating Hyuck. Yeah, he might’ve said no now, but we’ll come up with a new plan—You can bounce back from this! Why are you quitting now?”

Removing the off-the-shoulder pink top that restricts your arm movement, you quickly slip on an oversized sweater before reaching back and unhooking the strapless bra whose underwire has been digging into your ribs for so many hours, a sigh of relief escaping between your teeth. You toss it onto your chair without another care in the world, and it lands next to the shirt in a heap.

“Because this isn’t me. This isn’t what I like.”

“Of course, it is. This is still you: just new and improved,” he insists, frantically attempting to hand you your discarded shirt and pleather skirt. You ignore them, opting to pull out and put on your favorite pair of stretched out gym shorts from middle school that you had shoved in the back of your closet to make room for all the flashy clothing Jaemin picked out for you. “We’re having fun. You’re popular and pretty now. You’re almost dating Donghyuck. You have everything that everyone wants. You’re the girl the boys want to be with, the girl all the other girls want to be.”

You shake your head, reaching for the packet of makeup wipes near your sink. “It’s not what I want.”

Jaemin scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. What are you talking about? This is what you asked me to do.”

You throw him a scathing glare, and he takes a step back. “God, Jaemin, for once in your life, take off the stupid rose colored heart shades, and you’ll finally see all the red flags around you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaemin asks defensively. He thought everything was going according to plan; he’s going to pass macroeconomics, and you got to talk to Donghyuck and are this close to scoring a date with him. People notice you wherever you go, the two of you receive compliments, his friends like you, everyone likes you.

“I have to pretend to like things I hate and hate the things I like. I have to do things a certain way, act a certain way, pretend this is all effortless. I don’t know if people are being genuine or pretending like I am. I hate this—this fake version of me.” You spit the words out like fuel to a fire, and you stand there in all your blazing glory, ugly uniform shorts and all.

“My thighs keep chafing. My feet have blisters everyday from these boots. This foundation makes me break out even more, and I can’t type up my notes in class or write fast enough because of these nails, and my grades almost took a plunge. I’m basically freezing my tits off out there in a shirt I don’t like. The lashes make my eyes itch, and this skirt is so short that I have to keep pulling it down every five seconds before I end up flashing someone.”

You don’t recognize the girl in your mirror anymore. You pluck off the falsies lining your eyes, scrubbing furiously at the layers of expensive brand name makeup covering your skin.  You wipe off every inch of it until your bare face stares back at you, slightly puffy, blemishes, faded acne scars and all. You feel like you can breathe a little better now.

“Did you really think it’s easy being one of us? Do you think people will notice you if you show up in sweats with Cheetos stains?” Jaemin stares at you incredulously. “This is how it is. I don’t get why you’re throwing it all away like this.”

“And yet, you were all for it when I threw away everything before.”

“Because you asked for it! You asked me to—to make you into someone Donghyuck would date!”

“You don’t get it.” You whirl around on your heels to face him instead of the mirror, and the anger and intensity laced in your voice nearly blows him away. “I like myself the way I am. I never hated myself. I may be insecure about how I look sometimes, but who isn’t? Yeah, I like wearing cherry lip gloss and mascara sometimes. It’s fun trying out new hairstyles and clothes and learning to do better makeup. I like getting dressed up for special occasions. I like doing these things on my own terms. But this? What I’m doing to myself right now? This isn’t the same. Am I supposed to keep up this charade for the rest of my life? If I do eventually go out with Donghyuck, am I gonna have to keep lying to him? To everyone? I want people to like me for me. To actually know me.”

“If this is how you feel, then why would you keep doing this?! If you hate it so much, then why?” He’s frustrated, carding his fingers through his hair as he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re angry over this. You look gorgeous, so what’s the problem?

“Because I liked spending time with you!” you burst out, “I never liked Donghyuck—I liked you. I wanted it to be you. It was fun at first, I did like it at first, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. I can’t be friends with someone who’s ashamed of me.”

There’s a jolt in his heart when he hears your confession, but the second jolt comes quickly afterwards at your last words. Denial is the first stage of grief, and he pales at your final declaration. “What are you talking about? This whole thing is so that Dongh—”

“Oh, please. You can drop the act. This isn’t about Donghyuck anymore. This is about you being too embarrassed to be seen with someone who doesn’t fit your aesthetics.” You air quote the last word for emphasis, and his jaw tightens at that. “You’d rather drop dead than go out with a four like me, right?” You smile sardonically at him. “I may be a four on a seafood diet, but my ears work perfectly fine, Jaemin.”

You heard it all, and Jaemin feels like he is going to throw up. All he can do is scramble and grasp for the last remaining straws, protesting vehemently, “I wasn’t the one who said any of that!”

You laugh humorlessly, “Is that supposed to make it better? You’re better than them because you didn’t say it out loud? You didn’t deny it or defend me either, so what’s your point? 

His mouth goes dry, and he opens and shuts it several times. Swallowing harshly, he barely manages to croak out a weak reply. “That’s— I didn’t mean—I only really thought that before I knew you.”

“And that’s just it, isn’t it? You already judged me before you even knew me based on how I look. Even now, you still judge me.” He starts to open his mouth again, but you merely shrug as if you’ve accepted this for all your life, and he closes it meekly, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably, unable to meet your eyes

“That’s okay. I’m used to it. That’s how it is for people like me. I know I’m not someone people fall head over heels for immediately. I’m the one who reaches out to people first. Guys don’t fall over at my feet, wanting to carry my books to class for me. The pretty girls ask me to take their Insta pictures for them. I don’t get free drinks at the bar or invited to all the parties. I’ve never been asked out by a total stranger, and no one writes their number on my cup of coffee,” you say matter-of-factly, a resigned smile on your face, and it has him curling into himself internally, his conscience slowly eating away at him.

“And you know what?” you continue, “That's life. That’s okay because I’m happy with who I am. I like who I am. If I have to give myself up to get Donghyuck or you to like me, then he’s—you—are not the one. I shouldn’t change who I am for a boy—or anyone for that matter.”

“That’s not—We were doing this for you. You wanted… you wanted this makeover. You wanted this.” He’s desperately clutching onto the end of the rope, and you’re holding the scissors to cut it off. You show him another half smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It stopped being about me. It started being about what you wanted, what you liked, what you wanted me to be. I was your charity case, your little Barbie doll.”

You tilt your head to the side, studying the boy in front of you and he silently squirms under your scrutiny. “Tell me one thing, and be honest. Did you even know I existed before Donghyuck mentioned me as a tutoring option? Before you needed me for a grade booster? Would you have liked me then?”

Would you have liked me then? Your question echoes in his mind, and Jaemin freezes, dropping the clothes in his hands. You know. You know he likes you, and the embarrassment creeps up on him in the form of carmine dusting his ears and cheeks, like spilled wine on white linen.

“There are over one hundred students in the class,” he objects. “Sorry for not fighting my way through all of them to find you and have a crush on you sooner.”

Jaemin seems to not realize that he just confirmed his feelings for you aloud, and perhaps, if he had told you this a few weeks ago, you would have been ecstatic and called up Lana and Moon the second he was out of earshot. But this is now, and you’ve grown exponentially since then.

You give him a wistful smile, and as the dread piles up in the pit of his stomach, he knows this is the start of his downfall (or perhaps, he’s already been falling this entire time). He slipped from the pedestal already long ago, and it’s only a matter of time before he hits rock bottom. The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall from grace.

“I sat in front of you diagonally. You asked me to pass notes to my friend. You know, the girl who sat next to me? Alice? The one you asked out and went on a few dates with at the beginning of the semester?” You state the facts calmly, and his eyes widen at that. “It’s okay. But you must’ve remembered that we were in the same group for a presentation last semester, right?”

Jaemin stays silent, and you have your answer. It’s one you’ve known deep down in your heart all this time, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. After all, someone can announce they’re going to punch you, you can even see the strike coming to your gut, but simply knowing doesn’t do anything to ease the painful aftermath.

You chuckle humorlessly, fingers uncurling and recurling into fists as your nails press moon shaped crescents into your palms before you look him straight in the eyes. “I don’t fit into your cookie cutter life or match your rose colored Instagram filters. I don’t have the perfect model figure or the perfect face. I don’t look like the girl of your dreams, and I know that it just fucking kills you inside that you fell in love with me.”

Jaemin flinches, curling in on himself when he finally meets your gaze and finally sees the absolute hell fires of fury and repugnance ablaze in your eyes. You know that he loves you, and he’s ashamed that you’re right. You’re absolutely right.

Why is he so afraid of loving you?

He loves how smart you are, how witty you are, how funny you are, how genuine you are, how you understand every obscure Haikyuu!! reference he makes, how you laugh at his jokes, how you dm him the funniest memes on Instagram, how you wear your purple scrunchie around your wrist during every exam for good luck and how you let him borrow it too. He loves how you treat him as more than just a pretty face, how you actually listen to him and make him feel like what he says matters, how you make him feel different—special—like he doesn’t have to compete with all the other Barbies and Kens out there. He’s much too vain, much too superficial, much too selfish, much too proud to admit it out loud, but he’s in love with you, and yet, he can’t bring himself to love every single part of you.

And the truth of that matter is the ugliest of all.

But there are standards that he has to uphold, why can’t you understand this? He lowered his standards for you, and you still couldn’t meet them. You have the personality already, you are this close to being the ideal girl, and well, you both have to make changes. It’s the prince and princess who live happily ever after, not the prince and the pauper, or god forbid, the ogre (No offense, Shrek). This is real life, and society has unspoken rules. He sacrificed so much for you, he put his reputation on the line, so why couldn’t you do this for him? After all, love always has some sacrifices.

Right?

But when Jaemin looks at you now, there’s everything, but love staring back at him. You look at him like he’s a repulsive piece of chewed gum stubbornly stuck to the bottom of your Steve Madden heel. It strikes a nerve and completely eats him to the core, but he pulls himself upright because nobody talks to him like that, nobody looks at him like that, certainly not someone like you. He invented you, he made you into the next Princess Mia, the next Cady Heron, the next Serena van der Woodsen, and this is how you show your gratitude?

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me. You act like I’m the first person to judge first based on looks. Everyone does it. Am I supposed to strike up a conversation with every girl on the off chance she’s everything I want? Do you think anyone would fall for you immediately when you looked like that?  The saying is ‘love at first sight’, unless you’re one to believe in the whole ‘love is blind’ idea, which you clearly do,” Jaemin snaps, sneering as he eyes you up and down. His heart and mind are screaming, crying, begging for him to stop, but his pride dropkicks him headfirst into the hole he dug for himself, raging for him to get the upper hand again.

“How is it my fault for not knowing you’re the whole package when the wrapping doesn’t match the contents?”

The unfiltered words slip out of his mouth, and he immediately regrets it, closing his eyes, but it’s too late. He sees the instant look of devastation that appears on your face, and it hits him like a boxer’s punch to the chest. He starts to backtrack to no avail. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

“I am never going to be enough for you, am I?” you whisper, your breaths stuttering in your chest as your initial sarcasm turns into quiet truths now that eat away at him. “I’m either too much or too little. There’s always going to be something you’ll want to change, something you want to fix.”

“Y/N… I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was an accident. I just—”

Jaemin can’t continue on, his voice trailing off as he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to keep apologizing, he’ll do anything it takes to take back what he just said, but the damage has already been dealt. He’s always known he’s an asshole, sure, but this is beyond anything he’s ever said or done in the past. He just secured the seat of honor in Dante's ninth circle of hell, and there’s no return ticket.

“You just what? You thought it would be okay to say anything to my face just because it’s not up to your standards?”

Jaemin’s face pales. “N-no, I—this isn’t how it's supposed to go, I just—It just slipped out, can we start over?” 

A public rejection from any boy or girl would hurt infinitely less than the words Jaemin spat in your face. The things that his friends said before within earshot? You could take it because you couldn’t care less about them at the end of the day. But this? This was coming from someone you trusted, someone you care about, someone you lov—No, you don’t even want to think about that.

Jaemin never loved you. He never even liked you. The harsh reality slaps you like a cold shower in the middle of a winter night, and you want to curl up into a ball under your covers and cry until you fall asleep.

And yet, you will not let him humiliate you any longer. The spell has been broken. Cinderella is back to her rags, and her Prince Charming is nowhere to be found. She’s stuck as a toad that’ll never change. Eyes watering, you inhale sharply, laughing quietly in disbelief before you straighten up and your face hardens.

“Are you actually listening to yourself? You think we can start over? You treat people like they’re disposable, like they’re nothing, and once they don’t match with your theme of the week, you toss them even faster than the time it takes for you to choose an outfit.” Your chest is heaving, and the tears threaten to fall, but you push on, swallowing the lump in your throat. He reaches out for you, and you take a step back, shaking your head.

“You can’t hurt people and expect them to just let it go. I get it, I know I’m not the thinnest, or the nicest, or the funniest, or the smartest, or the prettiest. I know that I’m hard to love. I get it, Jaemin. I’ve always known that.”

You choke on the last sentence, swallowing hard to stifle the hiccup that bubbles up in your throat. “But that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit.”

Rapidly blinking back your tears, you march over to your door and throw it open with such force that the doorknob could have left a dent in the wall. You don’t want to cry, you’ve always been an angry crier, and you desperately want the tears to stop. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry and hearing your confession. He doesn’t deserve any of that. Jaemin doesn’t deserve your tears, and he certainly doesn’t deserve your love.

“Get out.”

Jaemin stares at you, mouth agape like a fish on land. You gesture heatedly towards the outside, choking slightly. “What are you waiting for? I said get out.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Am I a joke to you?” you quietly ask, and his eyes widen.

“No! No, Y/N, you’re not, I jus—”

A single tear manages to escape despite your best, frustrated efforts, and Jaemin instinctively reaches out for you. You swat his hand away, angrily swiping away the stray droplet with the sleeve of your sweater. His heart wrenches in his chest as his hand dangles limply by his side. You’re crying because of him. He caused that, and he feels like the biggest piece of shit in the world.

You refuse to let any more fall, glaring at him through the unshed tears and entirely disgusted with the boy standing in front of you. “Don’t touch me. I’m not crying for you. I’m crying because I’m so angry I wasted all my time on someone who never cared about me.”

That’s not true—I love you, he wants to say, but his mouth refuses to form the words because his pride won’t loosen its grip on his heart. He loves you, he’s in love with you, why can’t you see that?

You steel yourself, taking one shaky breath before looking pointedly at the door and repeating yourself, “Get out. Leave me alone.”

Numbly, he makes his way over to the door, ears ringing. You glower at him, the intensity searing and digging into the side of his face. When he stands outside of your dorm, he struggles to turn around and face you helplessly. Your eyes soften for a moment, and it shoves the dagger deeper into his chest when he recognizes that look. It’s the same look he wore when he first saw you, and the shame that emerges nearly chokes him. The mixture of pity and disappointment painted across your face revolts him entirely, and he feels like he’s going to vomit. Jaemin is utterly humiliated.

Your gaze intensifies once more when you stand up to your full height, stare unwavering and chin raised up. Gripping the doorframe tightly, you drive the final words into his heart like a stake.

“I am too good for you, Jaemin, and I will never love someone like you. I deserve better.”

And for a split second, you almost convinced yourself when you said that.

You shut the door in his face.

Jaemin calls your name through the door several times, desperation ringing clear in his tone, but it falls on deaf ears. Apologies are a fool’s best friend, and you’d be a fool yourself to believe them. Holding your breath, you wait until you hear his footsteps echo down the hallway, until the solitude greets you like an old friend. And at last, you drop the facade and let yourself cry. Back pressed against the door and head bowed, you finally let go until all the tears are gone and you’re gasping for breath, the quiet hiccups and sobs bursting forth and breaking the silence in the same way he broke your heart over and over again.

You love him.

There’s no one to blame, but yourself. In the end, it’s all your fault that you were in this mess. How can you be so stupid? You can put lipstick on a pig, but it would still be a pig. Built up insecurities will bubble up to the surface no matter how much mascara and blush you apply. The warning signs were all there in flashing technicolor, but they were all tied up with shiny ribbons and deceiving perfect smiles. They lit up your usual drab life of blacks, whites, and grays, and you were blinded by the glitz and glamor— blinded by him. It is hard to see the red flags and stop signs through the rose colored Instagram filters. You trusted him and gave him your heart when you should’ve known it’d end like this. 

You got greedy and tried to steal the spotlight, and you received it, front and center. You are the joke. You are the punchline, the comedic relief, the center stage of a slapstick comedy show. This is what you get for going off script.

Because you love him.

You were supposed to continue to delude yourself into thinking that you don’t want to find love, that you enjoy being on your own, that you enjoy being single, that you are perfectly content with never experiencing romance instead of facing the cold harsh reality head on: no one sees you as desirable or dateable. And when your friends tell you that you’re not missing out on anything with dating, you were supposed to nod and agree, when secretly, you desperately wish you can experience that for yourself instead of living vicariously through your friends’ love lives or the 3 a.m. scrollings through cheesy romance fanfiction on Tumblr. You’re been fine all these years, haven’t you? You were doing so well living on your own.

But you love him.

It’ll come when you least expect it, that’s what they tell you every time, but what are you to do when you can’t help but expect it your whole life? What are you to do when you so desperately want to know what it feels like to be loved in that way? God, when is it going to be your turn? When is it your turn to daydream about someone and know that they’re daydreaming about you too? When is it your turn to have someone walk you home? When is it your turn to hold hands with someone? When is it your turn to feel the giddy butterflies and experience a good night kiss? When is it your turn to be kissed in the rain? When is it your turn to experience the romance you can only dream about?

How much longer will you have to be patient? How much longer do you have to wait, living in denial over the soul crushing reality of it all? How many more stars do you need to wish upon until you learn to accept the painstaking truth? You weren’t meant to be loved in this lifetime.

God, you love him.

It’s embarrassing when it shouldn’t be. You just want to be touched by hands that care, loved by a heart that beats for you, desired by someone who thinks you are enough. It’s the way you would give up ten years of your life in a heartbeat to experience being the prettiest girl in the room just once and have people look at you. The overwhelming shame washes over you when you never had your first kiss until now with a boy who never cared about you, never went on a date before, never had a boyfriend before, and you have to lie and say it’s by choice when it’s not. It’s not. You have so much love to give, you have so much space in your life to share, you have so much time to spend with that special someone, but the grains of the hourglass are spent waiting and longing for a stranger who will never come. 

The thought of it all just makes you sick. It makes you sick that you wish so terribly that someone would just look in your direction for once. For once, you want to be looked at in that way like all the female protagonists experience in the movies. And you know your value shouldn’t be based on desire and objectification, you absolutely know it, but it still hurts when you go out with your friends and you’re the one dancing alone or sitting back and watching the purses. You’re the one standing there by yourself, while every single one of your pretty friends is being approached by someone. It still hurts so fucking bad when you try to put yourself out there, but guys have already moved past you or don’t even acknowledge your existence simply because of your face or a number on a scale. And when he came into your life and gave you one measly ounce of attention, you ran with it when you should have run away. It’s absolutely exhausting, leaving you out of breath and on the verge of throwing up, to chase after someone who never even looked at you, to chase after their attention, praying to god that they’ll one day make you feel like you are worth it, that you’ll finally feel some sort of value.

Forget ever being loved, you weren’t even wanted.

There is no such thing as happily ever after’s for the extras. Girls like you don’t get to star in love stories. Why did you ever think it would end differently?

You love him.

And he ruined you. Even worse, you let him.

You wish you never met Na Jaemin.

x. i can’t go out tonight. *fake coughs* i’m sick.

You would like to give a formal apology to Bella Swan for not understanding why she was so depressed over Edward leaving her for six months and making fun of her. In your defense, you were like nine years old when the movie came out, and you were more interested in Barbies back then (Plus, you were Team Jacob because you wanted a pet dog at the time).

You didn’t even go through a break up, but it sure as hell feels like one.

You probably would continue to wallow in your misery for weeks, clutching onto the only two men you could ever trust in your entire life: Ben and Jerry’s while watching every iconic 90s and early 2000s rom-coms on repeat if it weren’t for your best friends. But enough is enough, and you get that you shouldn’t be spending weeks crying over a boy who hasn’t even spent one second thinking about you. It’s just hard to take that first step back up again when you feel like you tripped and fell all the way down to rock bottom.

And so, you finally let your friends into your shared dorm room, and you definitely do not miss the poorly disguised look of disgust and shock when they see the giant mess on your side of the room (You’re very grateful that Giselle has been staying at her boyfriend’s place for weeks now). It’s an intervention at this point—one that you desperately need, and you know it.

“Okay, give it to me straight,” you sniffle, still wrapped up in your comforter like a giant burrito and clutching onto the ice cream carton like a lifeline. You know that your friends will just rip it off like a bandage, and you have mentally prepared yourself for it. Your voice comes out wobbly still from the tears, and you hate it. “I know I was stupid for letting a guy walk all over me like that. I know if any of you were in this situation, I’d tell you that you’re better than that and to get over him, but it’s just so hard to do it.”

“He who shall not be named is a scumbag, and I’m gonna kill him the next time I see him,” Lana states, pursing her lips together. “I hope he has a bad hair day every single day because I know he’d be screaming, crying, throwing up if he could never get a perfect selfie ever again.”

You choke back a sob, giving her a watery smile. “That would destroy him.”

“Good. Fuck him. Metaphorically, not literally. Why should you care if you are the girl of his dreams or not? Be the girl of your dreams. You’re gorgeous, smart, and funny and he’s just some guy who still doesn’t know how to use the correct ‘your’ in an Instagram caption.”

You can write down a thousand and one reasons why he was the most horrendous, most awful, most vile person to ever grace your life. But at the end of the day, why does it matter? What good would it do? You still love him, and that’s the worst pill to swallow.

“I just—I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Y/N, if you believed that Jaemin wasn’t a shitbag for the past four weeks and all the time before that in his life, then you can believe in yourself right now for two minutes and listen to me,” Lana says firmly, clutching onto your shoulders and forcing you to look her in the eye as she continues on, “Remember the Barbie movie? He’s just Ken. Ken doesn’t have a good day unless Barbie looks at him.”

“Yeah, like channel your inner Gina Linetti. Listen to Chelsea Peretti. ‘Men used to hunt.’ What’s Jaemin doing? He’s pushing twenty and doing aegyo on camera,” Moon chimes in, and Lana nods furiously in agreement before elbowing Yangyang in his rib not-so-subtly. “Contribute to the conversation, Yang.”

“Hold on, I’m thinking,” Yangyang says, pausing in the middle of your room and placing his hands on his hips.

“Oh congrats, I didn’t know you could do that. But stop because you’re not good at it at all,” Moon says, completely ignoring the dirty look he throws at her immediately. The little exchange brings a small smile to your face and it feels nice to laugh. You’ve forgotten how to do that. You miss your friends. You’re grateful for them for not giving up on you when you already have.

“Come on, let’s go see ‘Crazy Rich Asians.’ It’ll be fun. We can watch Lana fangirl over seeing her favorite actor,” Moon encourages you, and Yangyang nods in agreement. “Yeah, she picked a better man after the Jaehyun fiasco.”

“Oh my god, let it go. I didn’t like him that much,” Lana huffs softly, grabbing one of your spare pillows and launching it square into his face in retaliation, and he lets out out a high pitched shriek that makes you giggle.

“Weren’t you gonna go see it with your best friend, Yang?” You ask, glancing over at him and he shakes his head, a slightly sour expression on his face. “Nah, she’s going with Dejun already.”

“So unfortunately, we’re stuck with him now,” Moon says solemnly as Yangyang immediately throws her a dirty look. The look on his face makes you laugh, and it makes you feel a little better and your heart a little lighter.

You shouldn’t have to beg someone to love you; the right person will never make you beg. The right person would never chip away at you, erasing different parts of you, until you fit their picture perfect mold, until there’s nothing left of you. You would never have to call your friends at 4 am, drunk and crying for their validation, praying to whatever higher being is up there for them to take you back. Your friends have never looked at the scars and freckles dotting your skin and suddenly deemed you as unlovable. Your best friend wouldn’t call you fat and point out every single one of your insecurities. You are not unlovable because you decided to eat a third taco or decided to not wear makeup today or didn’t shave your legs. You may fight with your parents and siblings, but never once have you felt unloved by them. Never once did you have to get on your knees and plead for them to love you back.

You know you are worthy of love because your friends and family make it look so easy. They have shown you what love is really like time and time again. You’ve been a shitty friend these past few months, prioritizing a boy over the ones who really matter. They’ve been so patient with you this entire time, and with an open heart, you realize that it is time you finally start properly loving them and yourself too.

You are loved.

xi. that’s so not fetch!

Jaemin slinks out of the lecture hall, noting the dirty looks your friends have sent him from the other side of the room. He’s been standing outside of the classroom before the session starts for the past few weeks in hopes of catching you, looking like a complete creep (and definitely feeling like one).  But what’s he to do when you wouldn’t return any of his texts or calls? It’s humiliating, and he feels smaller than an ant under a microscope.

He pretends to leave class early, staking out in the bathroom across from the classroom. Counting down the minutes, he sees the first wave of students pouring out from the classrooms and finally spots you. His heart jumps to his throat, and his hands begin to grow clammy.

You’re back to wearing your loose jeans and basic t-shirts, your favorite purple scrunchie wrapped around your wrist and an old Jansport backpack slung over your shoulder, decorated with pins of all those familiar characters from his favorite anime. Your face is bare, aside from tinted lip balm, and you’re smiling. You’re laughing at something your friend next to you says, and with a sinking heart, Jaemin realizes that perhaps maybe you are pretty in the slightest way.

He finds himself taking one step towards you, then another, maneuvering around the other students rushing to leave. He’s getting closer and closer, if he called out your name, you would hear him. But you wouldn’t stop for him this time. He knows that.

Jaemin is getting closer, just a few more steps until he can just stretch his hand out and tap your shoulder, and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest until a pretty manicured hand grabs his upper arm lightly.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?” 

He pauses, turning around and seeing Somi staring back at him in surprise as she continues, “I thought you don’t have any classes at this time.”

“Yeah, I—” he hesitates, glancing over at your retreating figure and Somi follows his gaze, her eyes softening as she lets go of his arm.

“Oh, were you waiting for her? Sorry about that,” she apologizes, pulling away and he shakes his head, shrinking back. Maybe it was for the better that you got away. It’s probably a sign from the universe telling him to let it go.

“No, it’s okay. She doesn’t want to talk to me anyway,” Jaemin admits at last, starting to slink off, and Somi furrows her eyebrows, a puzzled expression gracing her face as she hurries slightly to catch up with him, matching his pace. He exits the building, crushing the graded economics midterm with a red 89 circled at the top in his fist and shoving it haphazardly into the side pocket of his backpack usually reserved for his water bottle.

“What are you talking about? The two of you are practically glued at the hip. She adores you,” she laughs softly, tilting her head slightly as she glances over at him. He ignores her look, continuing on his way off of campus and towards his safe haven: a small dog friendly boba shop snug in between a bookstore and a 24 hour laundromat he frequents more often than he likes to admit.

 “I honestly thought you’d ask her out at some point.”

Jaemin winces at that, her light response rubbing salt into his open wounds, stitches torn and bleeding, and he spits out the next words defensively, his pride rearing its ugly head again. “No way. I never liked her like that. She’s not my type at all. Have you seen her?”

“What is wrong with you?” Somi frowns at him, stopping in her tracks, and he halts, unable to look at her and throwing out a dismissive “What?” In her direction.

“Why are you talking about her like that? I thought you liked her,” she answers, staring at him in disbelief, and he curls his fingers into fists, gripping tightly as a multitude of conflicting emotions war inside of him. He starts to walk again, barely glancing over at Somi.

“She was just my tutor. I passed my midterm, so I don’t need to be around her anymore.” He responds weakly, uncurling and recurling his fingers into fists as he desperately tries to stay calm.

It was so much easier to pretend around his other friends. Aside from Jeno, they always took his words at face value, never one to pry. And Jeno would never push him, knowing that he would eventually come to him at his own pace. But Somi? He’s forgotten about how she can be after she’s been so busy with her schedule, missing out from the majority of hang outs for her social work and events, and their class schedules never overlapped. She can spot a lie a mile away. She actually cares. In a way, she reminds him of you, and he can’t bear to meet her gaze anymore.

“She’s your friend,” Somi retorts, following him into the boba shop, briefly stopping to pet the adorable Samoyed wagging its tail near the entrance. “You spent more time with her than any of us, except maybe Jeno. And you weren’t just studying in the library. I’ve seen her on your finsta and close friend stories.”

“Okay, and now she’s not. She’s not my friend anymore,” Jaemin answers sharply, punching his order into the self service machine. “It happens. People stop being friends. So back off, Somi.”

“Jeez, what is your problem?” she snaps back, following him towards the back, settling on a pillow in one of the comfortable nooks converted into a small seating area across from him. “I caught you following Y/N, and now you say you’re not friends?”

Jaemin hesitates, fiddling with one of the decorative pillows in his lap. “We got into an argument.”

“Yeah, but friends fight. You can apologize, right?”

Jaemin is silent.

Somi stares at him, and he wants to curl into himself. It’s the very same look you gave him before you shut the door in his face, and he feels the bile in his throat already. Her voice is quiet. “Jaemin, what did you do?”

“I—,” he whispers, breaking off and clenching his fists. He is already replaying that moment in his head, seeing the look of utter devastation on your face, and he wants to run away. The ugly truth is front and center, and he is unable to ignore it any longer.

 “I fucked up, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Jaemin bursts out, burying his face in his hands and unable to face his friend. He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “I said some shitty things to her, some really fucked up stuff.”

“Like fucked up as in messy drunk thoughts or fucked up, fucked up?” Somi says softly, hesitantly, as if she doesn’t want to believe her friend is the worst of the worst. Jaemin’s heart sinks even lower than rock bottom as he continues to hang his head low.

“I…” Jaemin’s voice is less than a whisper as he finally confesses the horrible truth to someone for the first time. His voice cracks as he recalls every single disgusting thing and insecurity he flung back into your face.

“I said that it would be stupid for her to believe in love at first sight, that she wasn’t up to my standards, that it’s her fault, that I was ashamed of her, ashamed that I even liked her because of the way she looked.”

The silence is deafening, and Jaemin feels the same wave of humiliation wash over him as it did on that very night. Somi is speechless, and he can’t bear to look at her, one hundred percent knowing that there would be a raw look of utter disgust and horror on her face because that is the exact way he would look at himself. He sits there in silence as the guilt and shame pile up even higher; he is past the point of wallowing in self pity, already drowning and gasping for breath.

“Jaemin… she was your friend,” she murmurs, gazing at him, mouth agape as the shock finally settles in, and he flinches slightly at the past tense. “She actually cared about you. She made you happy.”

“I know,” he says softly.

“She was the best thing that ever happened to you.” Somi continues quietly.

Jaemin sucks in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip. “I know.”

“Then why?”

Because I was stupid, he thinks silently, Because I am a coward. Because she embarrassed me. She made me feel small. She made me feel insignificant. She made me look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in my life, I absolutely hated what I saw staring back at me.

“I don’t know,” Jaemin whispers, staring down at his lap in resignation and unable to swallow the truth.

He knows.

xii. you can’t sit with us.

You continue to avoid Jaemin in Macroeconomics, choosing to slip into class at the very last minute. You see him waiting in front of the classroom every session for the past three weeks, searching for you, but you opt to go to the professor’s office hours every time before class and end up walking with her to class as she answers your questions about the assigned readings and problems. Alice saves you a seat in the front row, and you never told her but you’re grateful when you realize she must have asked her other friends to sit around the two of you, effectively barricading Jaemin from any attempt at sitting next to you. Finals week comes and goes with  the winter break following suit, and you think he has finally given up on any attempt at reaching you.

But life has an unfortunate penchant for bringing up things—or people—you wish to forget when you least expect it. It was supposed to be an ordinary Thursday four weeks into the spring semester, and you’re exiting your last class of the day, tucking your laptop into the cute tote bag you bought from the New York Strands bookstore as you walk across campus.

“Y/N.” Jaemin appears in front of you, and suddenly, all the air in your lungs seem to have been sucked out. It’s almost embarrassing how two months of self progress can be toppled over as easily as a house of cards. Your brain says to hate him, but one glance at him still has you weak in the knees. You take a deep breath, counting to three before walking around and ignoring him entirely.

“Please, can we just talk for five minutes? I’m sorry.” He desperately reaches out for you, and you can see some people starting to take note of the two of you, their gazes on your back.

“Leave me alone, Jaemin.” You continue to walk away, hiking up the strap of your bag higher over your shoulder, desperately trying to quell the stupid colony of butterflies in your stomach that have laid dormant for so long. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please, just five minutes—three minutes—and I’ll leave you alone forever. Listen to me,” he says in a quiet tone. It was an order, a request, and a plea all at once.

You pause, scrutinizing him for a few moments before grabbing his arm and dragging him away from prying eyes. You stop on the secluded side of the building underneath the magnolia trees before dropping his hand. “You have two minutes. Talk.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Good to know you’re self aware. You’re finally experiencing some character growth.”

Jaemin grimaces at your stony expression. “Okay, that was deserved. I truly am sorry, Y/N. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, and I’m an asshole who took advantage of you. You do deserve better. You deserve someone better than me. But I want to be that person. You make me a better person.”

You stay quiet, and Jaemin fidgets around. “Is that… is that okay? I know it’s selfish of me, but—”

“You’re right, that is selfish of you.”

Jaemin falls silent at that, face flushing before he speaks up meekly, “Can’t we start over? Try again?”

In that moment, you truly pity the boy in front of you. The lost expression on his face tells it all as he desperately clutches onto whatever lifeline you’re willing to toss out. But he’s causing you to drown, and you need to cut the cord and put yourself first for once. Maybe you can change him. But you can’t do this to yourself again.

You take a deep breath and pinch yourself, reminding yourself that this is the same boy who broke your heart because it wasn’t pretty enough for him. “There is no trying again. You never tried, and I’m done trying for you. Jaemin, you don’t love me. You’ve never felt that way towards me.”

“Yes, I have! I do! I really do,” he protests, and you shake your head, taking a step back. He starts to take one step forward towards you and hesitates, staying in his original spot. Your gaze is cold, and he finds himself wishing that you would look at him in the way you used to.

“You love the idea of me: the one you built up in your head,” you say, tone growing quiet. “But I’m nothing like her. To some degree, I think I might be the first genuine connection you ever made with a girl. You liked the way I felt about you and how I acted for you. I changed everything about myself for you, I would’ve followed you anywhere, I would’ve done anything for you, and you took advantage of that. You took advantage of the fact that I love you.”

You may not truly know what love is, but you know it’s something he never gave you. It stings, knowing that even after all of this, you still secretly, desperately long for the type of love you know will always be out of your reach. A part of you wants to believe him, but this time, you listen to your mind instead of your heart.

Jaemin’s head shoots up at your confession, eyes widening in belated realization, and you curl your lips inward, biting your lower lip. You love him. You love him, he now knows, and to your surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Three steps forward and two steps back is still one step in the right direction.

“One day, you’re gonna find someone who’s finally enough for you—someone who’s worth making pancakes for,” you say wistfully, pausing for a minute before gathering the courage to continue.

“And you’re gonna fall in love with them. Like really love them. You’re gonna love them so much that you’ll try your hardest to be enough for them. You’re gonna try so fucking hard to be the one they want, the one they love, that you’ll do anything for them. You’ll even change yourself for better—or for worse.” You grip the strap of your tote bag even tighter, a dull pang in your heart making its appearance, and Jaemin winces, lowering his eyes as the regret and guilt pools into his stomach.

“But sometimes, it won’t be enough. It’s not going to be enough,” you continue, swallowing hard. “And it’ll never be enough for them. You’re willing to move heaven and earth for them, but they won’t notice. Or maybe they don’t even care. No matter how hard you try to love them, it won’t matter unless they want you. Unless they choose you.  And it’ll hurt like hell. It’ll hurt every single time you see them, every time you hear them, every time you think of them.”

Your voice softens, shaking slightly as you take in a wavering breath before pushing forward. “And when it hurts, you’re going to think of me. You’re going to remember me because that’s when you’ll understand what it feels like. That’s when you’ll know how I felt. How it feels to not be enough. How it feels to have your heart ripped to shreds by someone you care about—someone you love.”

His heart drops, and you give him a wistful smile before it quickly disappears, and your expression schools into one of indifference. You continue to walk forward confidently, brushing past his frozen figure. You see your friends waiting for you on the other side of the lawn, and you look over your shoulder at Jaemin one last time, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself.

“And you know what? I hope to fucking god it hurts you as much as you hurt me.”

The world continues to spin, you keep moving forward, and he remains rooted in his spot, unable to look away from you. There are so many Barbies and Kens out there, so many more Na Jaemins who will come into your life and sweep you off your feet, and you’ll make them feel special and more than a pretty face, he belatedly realizes, he’s disposable and so easily replaceable, but there’s only ever going to be one you. 

As he watches you walk away, Jaemin thinks he is starting to understand.

EPILOGUE.

Life likes to play cruel jokes, and the senior year gives you the most hilarious one of all in the form of your final capstone project. Last you heard about Jaemin, he had switched his major to pre med (which was ironic to you since that field would require him to care about other people, which he clearly proved to be incapable of). However, your university decided to implement a cross collaboration between the various schools, and it’s just your luck that you find yourself paired up with Jaemin. Giving him a tight smile as you take a seat across from him in the library room he reserved, you take out your laptop.

Jaemin had asked earlier if you wanted to request a new assigned partner, but you highly doubt any professor would switch up a pairing on account of one person being guilty of being the greatest asshole to ever exist (Plus, you’ll come across many guys like him in your field of work, so you might as well start building up your tolerance now).

It is the final time you will meet up with him before the big presentation, and the two of you work together in silence, only breaking it to discuss the project topic. It is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, settled somewhere in between—kind of like a purgatory for relationships. You’ve stopped thinking about him a while ago already, but seeing someone who once was a part of your life always brings back memories, whether wanted or not.

“I met someone.”

Jaemin breaks the ice, unable to hold it back any longer. He feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn't get this off of his chest. There is a slight pause in your writing before you resume, but he knows you are listening.

“I met her after… after our…” He trails off. He doesn’t know what to call it—what the two of you had. An almost relationship. “… After us.”

You continue to write, taking note of several points to be discussed based on your slide. He puts down his pen, clasping his hands together as he fiddles with one of the rings wrapped around his fingers.

“I made her blueberry pancakes.”

You sharply inhale for a brief millisecond before you jot down another bullet point. One, two, three, four, five bullet points until you can breathe normally again. You’re twenty two years old, but you suddenly feel like you’re eighteen again. You sometimes loathed your younger self, but because of her, you learned so many things (Forgiveness is one of them).

“I don’t know what else to do, except keep making her pancakes.” Jaemin sits there idly for a few moments, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil, before he laughs derisively, “She’s in love with my best friend. She never told me, but I can just tell.”

There’s another pause from him. Staring down at his notebook, he swallows hard, the lump in his throat never fully going away. His voice cracks as he whispers out his question:

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

Your pen stops moving across the paper, dropping to the side. There’s a black scribble from where it fell. You still continue to look at the index card, focusing on the college ruled lines until they become a mosaic blur of blue, black, and white.

“Eventually.”

Your tone is impassive, and his head snaps up at your reply. You pick up the pen again. You don’t look at him, but you know he’s staring at you, an unrecognizable expression in his eyes.

Perhaps, it would have been different if you had met the present day him back then instead. Perhaps, it would’ve worked out. Maybe he would have made another girl fall in love with him, broke her heart, and come out unscathed. Or maybe he would still be the same as his past self if he hadn’t met you. It’s the butterfly effect; you don’t know what would have happened, but you don’t care. Not anymore.

By now, you have mourned him for longer than you have loved him.

“Y/N, you were never hard to love. I was bad at loving. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

And this time, you know he truly means it—that Jaemin truly understands. It is good that he has learned and tried to become a better person. You just wish it didn’t have to come at the expense of you.

Your first love teaches you what love isn’t.

The threads holding the pieces of your heart together these past three years have always been so fragile. Just one tug at the heart strings, and everything unravels so easily, like grains of sand slipping through your fingers. You’ve nearly forgotten what heartbreak feels like, the old wounds opening up for a long forgotten friend that you had prayed you would never meet again.

You discover that it hurts even more the second time around.

“I wish I fell in love with you back then.”

His tone is forlorn, a silent resolution wrapped in happenstance. You continue to write down more notes for your part of the presentation, the soft scritches of your pen against paper almost masking your quiet response, and Jaemin nearly misses it.

“So did I.”

[florihaei]

• ౨ৎ ────────── 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 ₊ ˖ ་.

엔시티 드림 ꒰ 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮

• ( 1010 ) est.relationship 𓂃 bf dreamies! + kissing, pet names, suggestive / ( FLORIHAEI VALUT )

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!, phtots are not mine!!, credits to the rightful owner!!( there’s a rich joke in”haechans” and I don’t like it that much so sorry in advance!! florihaei taglist ୨ৎ

MARK LEE !

mark insisted on carrying everything, even your tiny purse. “babe i got it” you say reaching for your bag. he pulls it away with a grin, easily slipping the strap over his shoulder. “nope, to heavy for my baby girl”

you narrow your eyes at him, placing your hands on your hips. “mark baby.. it’s literally lighter than your phone”

he tilted his head, pretending to think. “hmm, it doesn’t matter, what if your body gets sore?, what if you get tired baby?” his voice was laced with amusement, but the way he tucks you under his arm and pulls you close has you smiling

“you’re ridiculous..” you muttered, though you don’t pull away.

“ridiculously in love with you” he corrects you, as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “now let me be a good boyfriend and spoil my baby yeah?”

you sigh dramatically but you end up smiling even wider when he gives your cheek a squeeze.

-

HUANG RENJUN !

you reach for a cup on the top shelf, standing on your tippy toes and stretching as far as you could. beofre you could even get close, renjun appears behind you , easily grabbing the cup and placing it in your hands.

“what would you do without me?” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder

“survive” you reply, turning to glare at him playfully

he scoffed, looping his arm around your waist. “doubt it baby, you’re too small and fragile”

“im not fragile” you argued, but he just hums, clearly he was unconvinced.

“mhm sure , but i would rather not risk my pretty girl struggling” his voice is soft as he titled her chin up. his thumb grazing over your jaw before pressing a lingering kiss to your nose. “besides, it’s cute when you try”

you swat at his chest, but the warmth spreading through you was impossible to ignore.

-

LEE JENO !

jeno watches as you struggle to open a bottle of water, your hands twisted at the cap, but with no success. before you can even consider asking for help, he grabs it from your grasp effortlessly, cracking it open with one hand

“jeno.. baby..” you huffed, reaching for it. “i could’ve done it”

he lifted the bottle higher, out of your reach, a playful smirk on his lips. “mm, but why should i when i can just do it for you baby?”

you pout, the smirk softened as he takes your chin between his fingers. “pretty.. i like taking care of you” he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss to your lips before finally handing the bottle to you. “so let me, okay?”

you take a sip, trying to hide your smile, but he sees right through you.

-

LEE HAECHAN !

your standing in the kitchen, trying to wash the dishes, when haechan suddenly wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground

“you shouldn’t be doing this sunshine” he whines, carrying you away from the sink and placing you gently on the couch. “my pretty baby doesn’t need to be doing chores”

you cross your arms. “and who’s going to do them then?, you?”

“uh no?, that’s why rich people hire maids for” he says. “and since im not rich, ill do it because i love you”

you blink “wait did you just…?”

“shh” he cuts you off, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before rushing to the kitchen. “no more questions sunshine, just sit here and look pretty for me”

your heart feels like it’s doing somersaults, but you’ll just pretend you didn’t hear the way his voice cracked

-

NA JAEMIN !

you’re in bed half asleep, when you feel jaemin shift beside you. he carefully tucks the blanket around your shoulders, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“nana… where are you going?” you mumble, reaching for his hand before he can move.

jaemin chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “i was just gonna get some water baby”

you let out a sleepy whine, tugging at his hoodie. “no… stay”

he smiles, lying back down and wrapping his arms around you. “you’re too cute you know that?” his voice is a whisper against your ear warm and comforting.

you nuzzle into his chest as he kisses the top of your head. “okay, okay i’m staying” he murmurs. “not like i’d ever leave my pretty girl alone anyway”

-

ZHONG CHENLE !

you’re running around the house, trying to grab something from the other room, when chenle calls out from the couch. “slow down baby, you’re gonna trip”

“i won-” your foot catches on the rug, and before you know it you’re stumbling forward.

chenle is up in an instant, catching you before you can hit the ground. he steadies you as his hands firm on your waist. “what did i just say baby?” he sighs, shaking his head before pulling you into his arms.

you groan. “okay okay.. you were right”

he smirks, rubbing circles onto your back. “of course i was, my baby is too clumsy for her own good”

you pout up at him, and he kisses your forehead with a chuckle. “from now on just let me do everything baby okay?”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t complain when he picks you up bridal style just to take you back to the couch.

-

PARK JISUNG !

you’re sitting on the floor, playing a video game when jisung suddenly scoots closer and pulls you into his lap.

“jisung baby?” you say, looking at him in confusion.

he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “just let me hold you for a bit”

your heart melts. “you’re so clingy” you tease, but you lean into him anyway.

“yeah, yeah” he mumbles, tightening his grip. “you’re my baby so deal with it”

you smile, placing your hands over his. “okay but you better not complain when i call you baby back”

he groans, but you catch the way his ears turn pink.

[neochan]

THE PROMISCUOUS TUTOR (M) | PART TWO

SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is the final half of part three of a series! read part one & two for context!

PAIRING | tutor!jaemin x reader

SYNOPSIS |  na jaemin is too sexy to be holed up in the campus library, but once you catch wind of what he does between the shelves, you know it’s your time to see just how well his reputation proceeds him.

WC | 17.7k

WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol & weed, sexual comments, explicit smut, breeding kink, wall fucking, mirror fucking, complete mess of mc's inner thoughts, big muscled jaemin :), jaehyun says annoying perverted things. uh angst at the end i'm sorry, please forgive me.

A.N | tumblr is being stupid and won't let me put it all in one part, so i'm splitting it into two. the first part will be linked on the masterlist. please send asks after you finish reading. i want to hear your thoughts!

Jaemin doesn’t care when you point out Haechan’s shoes near the entrance.

He merely kicks them to the side and pushes you up against the wooden door, hands instinctively finding your waist. They dip under the hem of your shirt and brush against your stomach – forcing a shiver out of you. He was so warm, hands soft against you.

“H-hyuck.” You stammer out.

Jaemin nips at your bottom lip, “Sorry angel, my name's Jaemin.”

“No, Hyuck's home.”

He casts a cursory glance toward the dark hallway, “And?”

“And what if he comes out of his room?” He couldn't catch you making out with Jaemin - hell would break loose.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, leaning in to kiss you again. “He won’t.”

“Jaem,” you whine, clutching on to the tops of his shoulders.

“He’s probably jerking off to some e-girl, he won’t.” Jaemin reaffirms, pressing his lips against yours to stop you from babbling on about Haechan. He was kissing you. You shouldn’t be thinking about someone else.

His hand abandons your waist and finds home on the side of your face, fingers curling underneath your jaw so he could taste more of you. He kisses you slow, afraid that if he does what he really wants, he’ll overwhelm you. But when you part your lips, just slightly enough to where Jaemin can taste the alcohol on your tongue, he thinks he might just lose it. He sighs into your mouth, tongue dipping slightly – testing the waters.

You open up more, letting him bully his tongue into your mouth. It’s hot and wet and desperate – the way he licks up your own tongue, hands fervently inching higher up your waist until your shirt is caught just beneath your bra. You think he’s going to stop there, but he doesn’t. He keeps going until his hands are hooked underneath your arms and then he’s pulling you in the air – instinctively, your legs find his waist, arms circling his neck.

God damn. You knew he was strong, but not that strong.

“What, didn’t think I’d be able to pick you up?” he questions, both hands grabbing your ass to keep you from falling. You shake your head, afraid to speak or move. The last thing you wanted him to do was drop you. “Angel,” he purrs, “Why do you think I’m in the gym all the time? Gotta make sure I’m able to surprise every woman I’m with.”

“Don’t really wanna hear about other women right now Jaem.” You mumble.

He lets out a barely audible chuckle as he continues to carry you to his room. It takes a moment for him to push open the door; throughout, your head remains on a swivel, silently pleading to whatever higher power that Haechan wouldn’t open the door and catch you swept up in Jaemin's arms.

As Jaemin fumbles into the room, he suddenly hoists you up and swiftly hurls you onto his bed with a whoosh of air, catching you off guard with his unexpected strength. You land with a startled thud, momentarily stunned by the forceful motion. Wide-eyed, you gaze up at Jaemin, surprise and exhilaration coursing through you. His playful grin tells you that he enjoys catching you off balance.

“Told you I was stronger than I looked.”

He’s pleased with your reaction, getting cockier the longer you sit there and stare up at him in awe. You were cute like that; a little dazed, with parted lips and windblown hair. He wanted to devour you.

“You can’t do that!” you hiss, righting yourself onto his bed, until your back hit the solid wood headboard. You draw your knees up and swing an arm around them.

Jaemin’s jaw drops dramatically, “Why not?”

You jerk a thumb at the wall – the one that Haechan shared.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, and yells so loud you think you might just die from embarrassment, “Yo! Hyuck!”

Through the wall you hear Haechan yell, “What?”

Eyes going wide, you slap a hand over your mouth. Was Jaemin crazy? What the fuck was he doing?

Jaemin just grins at you like this was the funniest thing in the world. “I got a girl in here so don’t come nosing around!”

A faint grunt sounds through the wall, no doubt from Haechan playing some video game, “Whatever man. Just keep it down, I got a test to study for.” You hear a slew of curses from Haechan’s room. Even though he had a test tomorrow, he surely didn’t intend to study.

“There, happy?”

Your furrowed brow clearly expressed your discontent. Jaemin, once more, rolls his eyes in exasperation before hopping onto the bed. His fingers, icy cold, grasp your ankles and tug you towards him. You struggle to suppress the shriek threatening to escape your throat, your whole body tensing against the sudden movement.

Jaemin isn’t fazed though. Instead, he settles on leaning over your figure, his arms braced on either side of your body to hold up his weight. With you underneath him, he can’t help but admire the sight. You looked fucking beautiful.

He wants to kiss you again.

And Jaemin always gets what he wants.

"He’s not gonna come in here." Jaemin hushes your worries as he starts kissing you. You wanted to protest, but his lips begin trailing sloppy wet kisses down the side of your neck and the words get caught in the back of your throat. "You like that? You like it when I kiss your neck?"

You nod your head, scared that if you spoke, your sentence would be less of a sentence and more of a moan.

"I want you to use your words, baby." Jaemin nudges his knee between your legs as he urges you to give him a vocal response. "I want to hear you say that you like it when I kiss your neck. Like this." He swipes his tongue against the soft skin of your neck and lightly blows, your body shivering at the cold sensation, but relaxing as soon as he presses another warm kiss to your neck.

"I- Jaem... I love it when you kiss my neck." You whimper out, squirming impatiently underneath his touch.

Jaemin snickers at you, "Oh, Y/N, look at you. You’re that desperate for someone good to please you?”

It’s embarrassing that he was right. You were that desperate. It’d been a while since the pleasure was about you. In fact, it wouldn’t be so crazy of a statement to say that you’d finished more times with yourself than you had with another man. But if you told Jaemin that, you’re not sure if he’d laugh or take it as a challenge.

“I’m so embarrassed—” You blurt out.

Jaemin sits up straight as if on cue. His hand grabs your jaw so that you were looking into his eyes. “Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed with me. It’s a safe space, okay?” You nod your head as much as his hand would allow, “You tell me what you’re comfortable with. And if I do anything wrong, tell me to stop. I’ll stop the second you say something.”

“Okay.” You whisper.

Maybe it was because he was being understanding, and sweet. Or maybe it was because he looked so god damn sexy, watching you through hooded eyes – but you grab a handful of his shirt and tug him back down.

His lips find yours first, soft and commanding, coaxing a whimper out of you. Moving in rhythm, he presses into you, feverishly consuming your taste like it was a fucking drug. When you try to pull away, he chases, not wanting to let you go just yet.

He parts his lips, mumbling against yours, “Oh, don’t get cocky now…You’re mine for tonight and I plan on getting my fill.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach. Jaemin tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue flicking against yours with a slow, deliberate tease. His hand slides down your neck, fingers grazing your collarbone before trailing lower, mapping your body like he wants to memorize every dip, every reaction.

You arch into him as he moves closer, his weight pressing you into the mattress. The warmth of his palm finds the exposed skin at your waist, thumb stroking slow, calculated circles that make your breath hitch.

"Tell me what you want," he murmurs, lips ghosting over your jaw, your cheek, the shell of your ear.

Your fingers fist into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer. "I just…want you."

Jaemin hums, pleased, as he kisses down the column of your throat. "That’s all I needed to hear."

His hand slips beneath your shirt, fingers skimming up your ribs, teasing just under the curve of your breast—but before he can go any further, he pauses, searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

"Can I take this off?"

The second you nod your head, Jaemin is up and moving.

He takes your clothes off in record time. It’s nearly hysterical how you’re completely dressed one second, and the next, your outfit has joined the pile of others on the floor. He gets himself undressed equally as fast, but when you watch it’s like time slows down.

You want to remember all of this, intently observing when he lifts his shirt over his head. His torso was toned, abs tensing and relaxing with the effort of tossing his shirt into the corner of his room. Faint veins peak through the skin of his forearms, and his hands…. his hands. So large and veiny, you can’t help but want two of his thick fingers between your thighs, right then.

“Like what you see?” He comments, fingers already working fast to undo the buttons on his pants.

You don’t respond, too infatuated by the sight that was Na Jaemin. You can’t wait to appreciate what the fuck he was hiding behind the heavy denim fabric. But just as he’s about to pull them down and give you a taste of what you were craving to see; he stops himself.

“Don’t know why I’m taking these off,” he says it like it slipped his mind. “This is about you.”

Jaemin doesn’t give you time to protest before he’s guiding you back onto the bed, lips never leaving your skin. He kisses down your body like he’s savoring every inch, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of warmth and desperation in his wake. His lips graze over your collarbone, your sternum, the sensitive spot just below your ribs. Every kiss is a promise, a whispered devotion against your skin.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your waist, gripping your hips like he’s trying to ground himself. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

His mouth moves lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, tongue flicking out to taste the soft skin. He hums against you, satisfied, dragging his lips lower, lower, until he’s just above where you need him most. His breath fans over your inner thighs, and you twitch beneath him, anticipation making you lightheaded.

“Relax, baby,” he coos, looking up at you through dark lashes. “Gonna make you feel good.”

He presses one last teasing kiss to the inside of your thigh before gripping your hips and flipping you onto your knees. The movement makes you gasp, hands scrambling against the sheets as he settles onto his back beneath you.

“Sit down,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger. He tugs you forward, urging you to straddle his face, but you hesitate, knees pressing into the mattress beside his head.

His hands find your thighs, fingers kneading the flesh as he urges you down. “Don’t make me say it again,” he breathes, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Jaemins fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, and it takes everything in you not to cry out, “I said sit the fuck down.”

“But what if I–”

“Y/n, I don’t care!” his fingers tighten again, biceps flexing with the exertion of trying to get you to just give in and ride his face.

“Suffocation.” you declare.

“What?”

“What if I suffocate you.”

Jaemin laughs and you can feel his breath against the inside of your thigh. Embarrassment licks your spine. You should have just shut up and gotten on with it.

“Okay one,” he starts, tilting his head to the side to kiss your leg, “I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” he catches your gaze and licks a long stripe up your inner thigh, “And two, even if it did happen theoretically. I think any man would be happy to be suffocated by you. I mean look at you—” he gives another trail of kisses on your other thigh, “Such a pretty girl. Such a pretty pussy”

“Jaem–”

“You’re already straddling my head, just sit down and enjoy yourself.” His eyes soften, “I promised you at least one orgasm.”

Your breath stutters as his words settle in, heavy and warm like his hands on your thighs. His grip is firm, but there’s patience in his touch, an unspoken promise that he won’t rush you—at least, not yet.

“Jaemin…” His name is barely a whisper, more of a plea than a protest now.

“Yes, baby?” His lips graze your skin, teasing, waiting. His voice is silk, smooth and coaxing, laced with the kind of confidence that makes your stomach tighten.

You don’t have a response—not one that makes sense, anyway. Your fingers curl into his hair, your hesitation dissolving with every deliberate kiss he presses to your thighs. His hands slide up, guiding, encouraging.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Let me take care of you.”

The last of your resistance crumbles as you let yourself sink into his touch, into him—because if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that Jaemin always keeps his promises.

His hands slide further up, gripping your hips firmly as he pulls you down, guiding you to settle against his mouth. The first slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue sends a shock through your body, making you grip onto his hair tighter, a soft gasp tumbling from your lips.

Jaemin groans beneath you, the vibration making your thighs shake. He eats you like he’s been starving for it, like he’s wanted to do this for so long. His tongue flicks against your clit, teasing, before he seals his lips around it and sucks.

“Fuck,” you whimper, hips stuttering against his face.

He hums in response, clearly satisfied with the sounds you’re making. His grip on your hips tightens as he presses you down harder against his mouth, his tongue working you over with precise, devastating strokes.

“Jaemin,” you pant, trying to lift yourself off, but he’s not having it. His arms flex as he locks you in place, a quiet, muffled growl leaving him.

Jaemin’s fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, and it takes everything in you not to cry out.

“Suffocation,” you blurt out again.

Jaemin chuckles against you, the vibration making your whole body shudder. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

His tongue flicks against your clit with devastating precision, alternating between slow, teasing circles and deep, hungry sucks that have your thighs trembling around his head. He’s relentless—lapping at you like he’s memorizing every sound you make, every little shudder, every sharp gasp.

Your hands fist into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, and the groan that rumbles from him is downright sinful. He likes this—loves this, having you like this, falling apart above him with no escape. The control is his, and you’re drowning in it.

He pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips shining, eyes dark with something dangerous. “See? Still breathing,” he teases, before diving back in like he has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

And with the way he’s holding you, tasting you, worshiping you—you don’t think you’ll be able to stop either.

Jaemin, I—”

“I know, baby,” he coos, one hand leaving your thigh to slide up your spine, pressing firm between your shoulder blades to keep you exactly where he wants you. “I got you.”

His mouth closes around your clit again, sucking just hard enough to have your back arching, a strangled moan spilling from your lips. The wet, obscene sounds of his tongue working against you fill the room, and you don’t know whether to feel embarrassed or completely undone.

But Jaemin wants you like this—desperate, messy, his.

“Come on,” he murmurs between drench kisses, his voice dripping with something dark and coaxing. “Let go for me.”

Your thighs start to tremble, heat coiling tight in your stomach, spiraling higher and higher as his tongue works you over. He notices, of course—he always notices—his grip tightening as he murmurs, “That’s it, baby. Give it to me.”

You try to hold back, try to ride the edge a little longer, but Jaemin doesn’t let you. He flicks his tongue faster, lips sealing around your clit with one last devastating pull, and it’s over. Your release crashes through you, your body jerking, a sharp gasp ripping from your throat as pleasure swallows you whole.

Jaemin groans beneath you, drinking it down like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, his hands gripping you through every shudder, every twitch.

When the aftershocks finally subside, your body slackens, thighs trembling as you try to catch your breath. Jaemin presses one last lingering kiss to your inner thigh before looking up at you, smug, satisfied, and completely wrecked.

“Told you I’d take care of you,” he murmurs, one hand reaching up to wipe at your face. A tear just rolled down your cheek and you didn’t even realize. “I haven’t even given you my cock yet and you’re already crying?”

Your body is still buzzing, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as you blink down at him. This is it, you think. You’re done. Your legs feel like jelly, and the warmth of his hands on your skin is grounding enough to bring you back down to reality.

You can't believe you just sat on Na Jaemins face.

Still in shock, you move, sliding down from your place above him, hands reaching for the waistband of his pants, ready to return the favor, to touch him, to finally satisfy him—

But Jaemin catches your wrist, stopping you.

“Did you think I was done?” His voice is sweet, teasing, but there’s another promise behind his words that makes your stomach flip. His grip tightens just slightly, his thumb rubbing slow circles against the inside of your wrist.

“Oh, no.” His other hand moves, tracing up your still-sensitive thigh, fingertips grazing higher and higher until they slip between your legs, making you jolt.

“This is about you, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers through your slick folds, groaning at how wet you still are. “And I can make you come again.”

Your breath catches, body still sensitive from the first orgasm, but Jaemin doesn’t give you time to recover. Two fingers slip inside you with ease, curling immediately, finding that spot that makes you see stars.

His pace is slow at first, teasing, letting you feel every inch of his fingers as they move inside you. The stretch is perfect, just enough to keep you teetering on the edge of sensitivity, the remnants of your last orgasm making you gasp at every motion.

“You can give me another one, can’t you?” he taunts, lips dragging along your inner thigh. “I know you can.”

Your fingers grip at his wrist, not sure if you’re trying to stop him or pull him deeper. “Jaemin—”

“Shh, I got you,” he soothes, his voice pure sin. His thumb circles your clit in slow, devastating strokes, and your whole body tenses.

He watches you, completely enthralled, eyes dark with something unreadable—something possessive. His fingers pick up the pace, pressing deeper, curling just right, and your thighs twitch with the overwhelming pleasure.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, lips quirking in satisfaction when he feels you clench around him. “Fuck, you like being called mine, hm?”

The heat inside you builds too fast, Jaemin’s touch sending you spiraling again, and before you can stop it, the pleasure snaps—your body jerking, another broken moan leaving your lips as you come undone for the second time.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he coos, his thumb pressing against your clit as he works his fingers deep, stretching you open. “Come on NaNa’s fingers.”

Jaemin works you through it, easing his pace, letting you ride the high as he coaxes every last bit of pleasure from you. When your body finally sags, his fingers slip out, his hand smoothing over your hip to soothe you.

“There you go,” he whispers, kissing the inside of your knee. “Knew you had one more for me.”

Your head spins, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. But before you can fully process it, Jaemin is shifting, his lips finding yours in a slow, indulgent kiss.

And then, he pulls himself up on the bed so that he’s laying on his back with you snuggled against his chest.

“I can give you another.” He grabs your hand and presses it to his bare chest, eyes glinting in the dim light filtering through the window, “You want another, baby?”

Gingerly, you nod your head, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was faster than it should be.

He smiles, “Greedy girl…I like it.”

Pushing himself up onto his knees, he shimmies backwards on the bed until his head in pushed between your thighs again. He looks up at you, lips curled, and eyebrows raised. “You want my fingers or my tongue?”

You’ve had both tonight…but you want more. “Want your cock.”

“Oh baby,” He chuckles, “I told you this was about you, not me.”

“But it’s what I want!” You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows.

You can’t see his reaction, but he licks a long stripe up the inner part of your leg, forcing a shier out of you. “Not tonight, angel. So, tongue, or fingers.”

God, this was gonna be a long night.

The sunlight streaming through the curtains casts a harsh glow on your face as you begin to stir. Disoriented and exhausted, you roll over to escape the brightness, hoping to get a few more minutes of sleep.

Realization hits you like a semi-truck.

This bed is not your own.

The sheets feel different, the mattress unfamiliar. Your eyes snap open, and a fleeting moment of confusion sweeps over you.

Oh.

Jaemin’s room—familiar yet disorienting—greets you.

The cream-colored walls are plastered with luxury car and playboy posters, shelves showcasing an impressive array of camera models and strips of film. The floor is strewn with clothes – including your own. His desk sits abandoned of textbooks, and his backpack, which was there last night, is gone.

Looking towards the other side of the bed – it’s apparent that he’s gone too.

At least he had the decency to let you sleep.

Beneath the covers, you become aware of your state of undress, a blush warming your cheeks as the memories of the night flood back.

Just as you start to collect your thoughts, the room’s silence is shattered by the insanely loud ringing of your phone. Panic sets in as you fumble around the bed, searching for the source of the sound.

After a moment of frantic searching, your gaze lands on Jaemin’s desk. There it is – your phone, innocently plugged in to charge.

And the decency to plug in your phone? Unheard of, really.

With a hasty movement, you extricate yourself from the tangled sheets and leap to answer the phone.

Mark’s name flashes across the screen.

“Shit.” You curse, fumbling to press the answer button. Before he can get a word out, you’re already mumbling apologies and promises to make it up to him.

“Dude, calm down.”  Mark's voice, though edged with frustration, carries a note of understanding. You take a deep breath, attempting to steady your nerves as you continue to explain.

"I overslept, Mark, seriously. I lost track of time. I'm on my way to the library right now. We can still work on the project, I promise."

There's a brief pause on the other end, and Mark finally answers. "I already came back to my dorm. If you wanna meet here, I don’t mind. My roommates are here though."

Shit.

Mark was one of the unlucky students this year that got placed in the freshman dorms due to a shortage of upperclassmen housing. Instead of sharing an apartment with one other person, and getting his own room, he was cramped with three other guys. And he had to share his room.

“You don’t wanna meet back at the library?”

On the other end of the line he sighs, “I waited for you to show up for an hour dude. When I left, my seat was the only one open. I’m sure it’s taken now.”

Apologizing again seemed futile. “I’ll just come to you. Be there in no time.”

“Ok, just knock when you get here. See ya.” And with that Mark hangs up.

You take a deep breath and set your phone back on the desk.

It’s only when you catch sight of yourself in his full-length mirror that you remember you’re standing naked in the middle of Jaemins room. Your tits are completely out, and judging by the dark bruises painting your chest like some kind of twisted art piece, you were definitely put through it last night.

Jesus, was he trying to brand you? Like, yeah, you get it, he’s good—but was this necessary? Now you have to strategize every outfit for the next week so you don’t look like you got into a street fight with a vacuum cleaner.

The four orgasms were totally worth it though.

You sigh, understanding that this probably wasn’t the moment to bask in the after-non-sex glow, and that you really need to get dressed and get the fuck up out of Jaemins room before 1. Haechan decided to come snooping around or 2. Mark chose to cut you loose from the project and do it himself.

You reluctantly bend down and gather your clothes from the pile on the floor. Frowning, you hold up a crumpled shirt to your nose, wrinkling in distaste. It smelled like a week-old mini bar.

Of course, the one drink you had last night would make an impression on your clothes. It’s clear that decision have consequences, and now you have to deal with the aftermath, because there’s only one option.

Borrow something from Jaemins closet.

Shit.

The closet beckons from across the room. You approach it tentatively, knowing you're crossing into personal territory. Opening the door, you scan the hangers, searching for something that won't scream 'borrowed.' But there aren’t many options for that. You see, Jaemin had three options in his wardrobe: tank tops & gym shorts, oversized hoodies & sweats, and button ups & dress pants.

Sighing, you reach for the closest hoodie, and rifle through the bottom drawers for some sweats. After a moment, you find the ones that weren’t going to be too big on you – a simple grey hoodie that had the logo of NCTU plastered across the back, and the matching pants. At least this combination would give you the cute ‘wearing your boyfriends clothes around campus’ aesthetic. Except he wasn’t your boyfriend – just your best friend who ate pussy like a starved man.

You tug the hoodie over your head and try it make it fit as comfortably as possible. It’s a little too big, but beggars can’t be choosers. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you take in your disheveled appearance.

A part of you wants to nose around the bathroom to find a hairbrush, maybe a spare toothbrush, but that’d be too much of a risk. Haechan could not catch you in a position like this.

After taking a final look around the room, you gather your belongings and prepare to make a hasty exit. The door creaks open, and you freeze, half-expecting Haechan to walk out and catch you in the act.

With one peek around the hallway, you see his door swung wide open. Chancing it, you take a couple steps out and realize that his room is empty.

The universe keeps granting you pardon after pardon.

This string of luck continues as you fumble your way out of the dorm and bolt down the stairs – still no Haechan in sight. In fact, you don’t see a single soul until you find yourself outside of the freshman dormitory. Students lounge on the hammocks situated in front of the building and you walk by without a word.

You’d only been to Marks dorm one other time, and it takes a moment to recall his room number. Honestly, each door looked the same. By some miracle you find the right one – or what you hoped to be the right one.

Delivering a semi-confident knock, you sway awkwardly. You really hoped this was the right room.

From the other side, you hear shuffling and then the door is being swung wide open.

“Hello…” This is not mark. However, the only telltale sign that you were at the right place was this guy’s bright ass silver hair. Looks like someone had fallen victim to Marks hair dye tendencies. “Can I help you?”

He leans against the door frame and crosses his arms over his chest, giving you a once over.

“I’m here to see Mark.” You reply, hoping he’d just let you in.

Of course not.

“I’m Chenle.” He responds.

You don’t know what to say, “Okay, nice to meet you.” What was this kid going to do? Interview you? Interrogate you?

“Are you a freshman?” He asks.

After about three seconds of hesitation, you respond, “Can you let me in? I’m late to meet Mark for our project.” You didn’t want to be mean, but you were over guys flirting with you. There was some actual schoolwork that needed to get done. And this scrawny, silver haired kid was in the way.

“Mark’s not here, but you can come chill with me.” His smirk lights up his entire face, eyes crinkling in delight.

“Chenle, fucking move and let her in.”

Mark’s voice comes from behind Chenle and the boy in question moves backwards in a huff. “I was just getting to know her.” He pouts.

Mark gives you a half-hearted wave and a smile, beckoning you into the dorm. As you step inside, gently closing the door behind you, you realize at how cramped the freshman dorms really were. How could four men live in these conditions?

Barbaric, really.

“Sorry about Chenle. He likes to flirt with anything that walks.” Mark gives a pointed glare to the younger boy, and it makes you giggle.

"Looks like you got a mini Jaemin on your hands” you joke, looking around the room. The small space is cluttered with textbooks, clothes, and various other items – definitely a men’s dorm.

"I was just being friendly," Chenle protests, flashing a charming smile in your direction. "Unlike someone, I know how to make a girl feel welcome."

Mark scoffs, “Oh, please.” He grabs your wrist and starts to tug you to his room, “Come on Y/N, let’s go do this project.”

As Mark pulls you away, Chenle calls after you, "If you get bored, I’m out here.”

You think his determination is kinda cute. Apparently, this offends mark “She’s never gonna go for you dude! Give it up!”

And with that, Mark slams his door shut.

See, it wasn’t that you were stupid, but composing, creating, and editing an entire song longer than a minute and a half wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do. Which, by the way, literally had nothing to do with theory.

Thankfully Mark knew guitar, could sing, and already had the song written. You decided to stick to the editing part.

Before long, the assignment was complete and turned in. And it only took half an hour – most of which consisted of trying to figure out the controls on the soundboard without deleting the recorded parts.

It took you a minute, but you finally got the hang of it.

After finishing up, Mark suggested grabbing lunch, and you agreed. The two of you headed to the campus cafe, chatting about everything from music to hockey (that conversation was fleeting), to the latest campus-wide trend of jumping into the fountains.

As you eagerly settled into your seat, ready to indulge in the heavenly experience that awaited you with the loaded tacos, a familiar voice pierced the air.

“Y/N!”

God-fucking-damn-it.

Two seconds later, a wind-blown Hyuck joins your table. His hair was in wild tangles at the top of his head, jacket precariously hanging off one shoulder, and his cheeks sported a subtle shade of tinged pink.

Mark, busy shoveling a forkful of green beans into his mouth, couldn't help but comment, "Why do you look like that?"

"Took the words right outta my mouth," you mumbled, side-eyeing Haechan.

Haechan scoffed, "Why do I look so beautiful, handsome, and sexy?"

"You wish.”

The new addition to your table shoots a glare at you. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

Mark chimed in, “You look like you got caught in a tornado.”

Haechan bangs a fist onto the tabletop, making your water ripple in your glass, “I had to run here.”

“To the café?” You question, taking a tentative bite of your taco.

Haechan rolls his eyes, “No, to the architecture building – yes, to the café.”

Mark, ever the voice of reason, took a drink of water before asking, “Why?”

Haechan gave a dead serious look, treating you and Mark like you were the dumbest people on Earth. "Because it’s taco day."

“So tacos equal running?” You giggle.

Haechan glares at you again, giving you a once over. His eyebrow pops up, “Why are you wearing Jaemins clothes?”

You choke on your taco.

Swallowing hard, you respond, "What? No, these are definitely mine."

Haechan narrows his eyes, clearly skeptical. "Come on, Y/N. I’ve literally scene him wear that exact outfit, like, last week."

Of course you had to pick the one outfit Jaemin wore recently. What were the odds? Actually, knowing your luck? One hundred percent. Should’ve grabbed something from the back of his closet. Maybe a damn tuxedo, just to throw Haechan off your scent.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, attempting to downplay the situation. "Well, maybe it's just a similar style. Lots of people wear sweat suits like this."

Mark, clueless as could be, chimes in through another mouthful of green beans, "Yeah, Haechan, don't jump to conclusions. It's just an outfit."

Haechan, however, wasn't convinced. He leaned in, scrutinizing the fabric. "I know Jaemin's style like the back of my hand. I’m literally his roommate."

Your heart raced as you desperately tried to deflect his suspicion. Perhaps the best thing to do in this situation was gaslight him. "You're imagining things. It's probably just a coincidence."

He narrowed his eyes, the gears in his mischievous mind audibly turning. "Maybe, but you can't deny it looks good on you. Fits better than it ever did on Jaemin."

That catches you off guard and you struggle to reply, stammering out, “Well, um, I guess people have different body types, right?"

It made no sense. This hoodie literally swallowed you whole.

Mark couldn't contain his laughter, and Haechan throws him an annoyed look. "Stop laughing, Mark. This is serious business."

“Yeah,” Mark wipes away the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, “If you count hitting on Y/N as serious business.”

As Haechan turns to defend himself against Marks allegations, your phone buzzed on the table. A sense of relief washes over you as you check the caller ID. It was Jennie. "Sorry, guys, gotta run. Duty calls," you announce, seizing the opportunity to escape this disappointing lunch date.

Haechan, still fixated on the fact that you were definitely wearing Jaemin’s clothes, smirked. "Sure, dodge the question. Perhaps I’ll go ask Jaem about it later."

Rolling your eyes, you shot back, "You're just mad I went with him last night instead of you."

It was his turn to stammer out a half-muttered response, the apples of his cheeks turning a dark shade of pink. So, what if you’d chosen Jaemin over him? It’s not like he really cared. Okay maybe he did, but really that’s only because he didn’t trust Jaemin to take care of you like you should be taken care of.

Oh, the things he didn’t know.

“Whatever,” he brushes off casually, “I’m eating your tacos if you’re leaving.”

“Have at it.” You retort.

With a quick farewell, you stepped away from the table, answering Jennie’s call as you made your way through the bustling dining room. “Hey, what’s up.”

“Y/N, it’s an emergency! Literally capital E! Can you meet me at the quad foutain? I’m begging you; I desperately need your help! This event is spiraling into a complete disaster!”

You almost get hit in the head with a flying football the moment you step out of the cafeteria doors.

Ducking just in time, you glance around and find the culprit – a shirtless boy in cargos and a beanie – weird combo.

“My bad.” He apologizes, jogging to where you were still reeling. He scoops up the ball and spares you a glance, “You okay?”

“’M fine.” You mumble, brushing off the close call.

He gives you a grin and jogs back to where his friends were waiting impatiently. You feel like you knew him from somewhere – Johnny, you think his name was. You shrug it off and continue walking.

Just another typical day at this stupid university.

With your backpack slung over one shoulder, you navigate through clusters of students, the chatter of voices filling the air. The sun beats down warmly, casting long shadows across the pathway as you make your way towards the heart of the campus—the quad.

The quad, with its lush greenery and towering trees, serves as the central gathering point for students. As you approach, you catch glimpses of the glistening fountain at its center, water dancing in the sunlight.

Students lounge on the grass, textbooks sprawled open, while others toss frisbees or kick soccer balls around. You make sure to keep an eye out for more flying objects.

Laughter mingles with the sound of music drifting from portable speakers as you draw closer to the fountain, searching for Jennie’s familiar figure among the crowd. Yet, as you reach the edge of the quad, your heart sinks a fraction. Jennie is nowhere to be seen.

Instead, standing by the fountain like some Greek god of fuckboy temptation, is Jaemin—crisp white t-shirt, grey sweats hanging just right, and that faded pink hair. You should turn around. You should pretend you never saw him. You should call Jennie and fake an emergency. But nope. Here you are, walking straight toward your doom.

If it weren't for the grin that lights up Jaemin's face as he spots you approaching, you would have probably just walked past him without a word. “Nice outfit.” Jaemin teases, carding a hand through his faded pink hair.

You glance down at yourself, remember you're clad in Jaemin's hoodie and sweatpants, and now you’re face to face with him. A faint blush creeps onto your cheeks. "Uh, thanks," you mumble, tugging at the hem of the oversized hoodie self-consciously. "My clothes smelled like alcohol…I’m sorry if–”

"Y/n, It’s not a big deal," he interrupts, his tone light as he gives you a playful wink.

You nod, grateful for his easy acceptance. "Okay good.”

As you're about to explain your presence, Jaemin beats you to the question. "So what’s up? Whaddya doing here?"

You hesitate, wondering how much to disclose before deciding to keep it simple. "Jennie called, said she needed help with something."

Jaemin's eyebrows raise in amusement. "What a coincidence, me too."

Before you can inquire further, a commotion at the edge of the quad catches your attention. Your eyes widen as you watch Jennie darting through the crowd, her figure unmistakable, clad only in a bright green bikini.

"Girl, what's up?" you exclaim, wondering why your roommate was running through campus barely dressed.

Jennie skids to a stop in front of you, panting slightly but grinning ear to ear. "Hey, sorry I'm late! I called you guys because I need both of you to help with our event.”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can respond, a few obnoxious catcalls pierce the air, directed at Jennie. Your jaw clenches instinctively, ready to defend your friend, but before you can react, Jennie flips the offenders the most glorious middle finger you've ever seen.

“Perverts.” She grumbles, “Anyways, it’s simple. Walk and talk, okay?”

You and Jaemin nod, following behind her as she guides you through the crowd while explaining what the hell was going on.

"Okay, so," she begins, her voice carrying a hint of exasperation, "Delta Gamma and Pike are hosting a car wash event to raise money for one of the local hospitals. It's all part of our philosophy, you know, brother-sister Greek life thing, whatever." Jaemin shoots you a glance, and you just shrug. You didn’t know much about Greek life either.

"But literally only four sisters and six brothers showed up – which is another problem entirely because I swear half of those new recruits are gonna get dropped for putting me through this much stress." You roll your eyes, knowing she would never do that. "And with only ten people and…"

"Holy shit," you breathe out, stunned by the sheer number of cars lined up.

The three of you halt at the roundabout on the edge of campus, two lines of cars waiting to be washed. There had to be at least thirty, all gleaming in the sunlight, eagerly awaiting their turn for a scrub-down.

Shirtless frat boys were washing one line of cars – spraying the hose water all over their chests and hurling soap bombs at each other. Laughter echoes as soap bubbles fly through the air.

On the opposite side, sorority girls in matching bikinis handle the other line of cars with finesse and charm. Their smiles are as radiant as the sunlight, their laughter tinkling like wind chimes. Despite the heat, they maintain their composure, efficiently scrubbing away dirt and grime while maintaining their impeccable appearance. Boys hang out of their cars, hooting and hollering and cheering.

Jaemin whistles lowly, his eyes scanning the line of vehicles. "Looks like we're in for a busy day," he remarks, a hint of excitement in his voice.

For a split second, you wonder if he’s checking out the girls, but he turns to you and gives you a smile.

Jennie nods, her expression determined. "I know.” she declares, a spark of determination igniting in her eyes. "If you could help out, even for half an hour, I’d appreciate it."

"Of course," Jaemin replies with a grin, his enthusiasm contagious. "We're here to help however we can."

You nod in agreement, "Count us in," you say, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. If Jaemin was staying, you sure as hell weren’t leaving—because what kind of idiot passes up the opportunity to watch six feet of pink-haired temptation scrub cars in slow motion?

“It’s not really about cleaning the cars. Just look sexy and pretend to scrub!” Jennie explains, setting her hands on her hip. She cocks her head to the side, practically begging.

Jaemin grins, “Well, if that’s the case, I can do sexy.”

You snort, “Okay. Fine. Let’s do this.”

Jaemin swiftly hoists his shirt over his head, casually discarding it on the ground. You can't help but notice how good he looks—toned chest, and a stone wall of abs. As he stretches, the muscles in his arms and torso flex and contract, and you watch in fascination.

He jogs over to the boys' side, greeting them with enthusiasm. Their ritualistic embraces appear almost painful to the untrained eye—open hands slapping backs and clasped fists.

However, for you, there was one problem: you didn’t have a bathing suit. So, you opt for the next best thing. With a hint of uncertainty, you peel off Jaemin's hoodie, standing there in your bra. Sure, it was a lacy delicate thing, but it covered up the areas that needed to be.

“Y/n!” Jennie nearly shrieks. You can sense a few other pairs of eyes turning your way, including Jaemin’s. His gaze darkens the second he sees you, a muscle twitching in his jaw. His fingers curl slightly—like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you. There’s something heavy in the way he looks at you, as if he’s fighting an internal battle between restraint and instinct.. “What are you wearing.”

“What?” You grumbled, hands peppering your chest. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that– or maybe Jaemin’s gaze made all this worth it. “I know it’s not a bathing suit, but what can you expect on such short notice? I’m gonna keep the sweats on anyway.”

She shakes her head, “I have a spare bathing suit in my car if you wanna go change into that.” It’s obvious she isn’t going to take no for an answer, so you oblige, snatching the keys out of her hand.

You jog over to Jennie’s car parked in the lot down the brick path. Unlocking the car, you climb inside, glancing around nervously to ensure no wandering students catch you in the midst of your impromptu wardrobe change. Thankfully, there’s parked cars on either side of you, blocking you in. You just hope their owners don’t come out wanting to take a midday drive.

The car’s interior is stifling, heat clinging to your skin like a second layer. The scent of worn leather and faint perfume from Jennie’s air freshener fills the small space as you hurriedly peel off your clothes, the fabric sticking slightly to your damp skin. You hope the tinted windows provide enough cover. The spare bathing suit is a tucked into the pocket on the back of the passenger side seat, and you struggle to get it on without elbowing the car door.

As you struggle with the straps, a pair of familiar eyes catches you off guard. Jaemin, passing by, raises an eyebrow in surprise. Panicking, you duck behind the backseat, using it as a makeshift shield.

Three seconds later there’s a sharp rap on the window.

When you look up, Jaemins face is peering in.

You grab the handle and push open the door – thankful that you at least managed to get on most of the bikini.

“Well look at you.” He grins, climbing into the backseat and closing the door behind himself.

“Jaem–”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because the boy in question grabs your jaw and pushes his lips against yours. It takes you by surprise, but you find his rhythm almost immediately. It’s sweltering in the car, but nothing compares to the heat radiating off his chest as he pushes his body into yours. His tongue drives shamelessly into your mouth, and you open wider, letting him taste you.

His hands slide under you, strong and unyielding, pressing you flush against him. The heat between your bodies is suffocating, but you don’t pull away. One of your legs instinctively wraps around his waist, the friction sending a sharp jolt through your core. He exhales sharply, his breath fanning against your lips, his grip tightening ever so slightly—like he’s holding himself back.

“You look good.” He mumbles against your lips, before pulling back and tugging on the bottom one with his teeth, “Can’t believe everyone else gets to see you like this.” You don’t even realize your eyes are shut before they’re fluttering open. He rests his forehead on your own, “Thought it was just for me?”

You laugh breathlessly, “What happened to it only being friends helping out friends.”

He shares the laugh, “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kinda got a problem and could definitely use your help. It’s your fault after all.”

His confession makes pride bloom in your chest.

Reaching a hand down between what little space there was between you, you grab him through his shorts – a heavy hand palming his growing hard-on. “Oh, this problem?”

“Yeah.” He groans, hips bucking into your touch. “That one.”

You grin up at him, making sure to look deep into his eyes, “Well, I hate to disappoint…”

“No!” He groans, rutting against you to try and feel any dwindling friction, “Don’t say that!”

His response makes you giggle, “If we stay in here much longer, Jennie's bound to come looking.”

He pouts, bottom lip jutting out, eyes like a puppy dog. When he finally understands that he won’t – that he can’t get what he wants, he smiles and steal another kiss. This one is shorter but still makes you shiver.

“After?” You ask, the hope evident in your tone.

“You just can’t get enough of me.”

“Not true!” you swat his arm, “But seeing you out there all buff and shirtless, well, I’ll probably have a problem later too.”

His response is instantaneous, “And I’ll be more than happy to help you out with that…after.”

It was your turn to steal a kiss from him. Grabbing his broad shoulders, you halfway sit up and nip at his lips. He catches you and pulls you deeper – and he keeps going into your head grows thick, and you become dizzy.

“Okay, okay.” You assert, banging weak fist on his shoulder, “We got to go.”

“Want some help with the top? I saw you struggling with it. Let me tie it for you.”

You see, Jaemin was so damn sweet sometimes – especially when he was horny and wanted something – someone. And right now, all he wanted was you.

Twisting around in the cramped back seat was hard, but you manage, and Jaemin expertly ties the back of the bikini so that it wouldn’t fall off halfway through washing someone’s beat up Toyota.

“Thanks.”

"Don’t mention it.” He dismisses the gratitude with a wave, and you push open the door, stepping out. The heat that had built up in the car hits you, and as you emerge, you feel the immediate relief of being able to finally catch a breath.

When he doesn’t immediately follow, you bend down to peek back into the car, “Are you coming?”

“You’re gonna have to give me a minute to…cool down.” He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and gesturing to his lap that sported a rather impressive tent.

“Okay.” You laugh, shutting the door and leaving Jaemin to ‘cool down’.

The smile on your face doesn’t dissipate at you walk back to the growing line of cars waiting to be washed by hot sorority sisters in skimpy bathing suits – and Jennie notices, but for the wrong reason.

“You like the bathing suit?” she chirps, “It’s kinda small on you but it looks good!!”

“I love it.” It made Jaemin climb into a hot car with you in the middle of campus, what was there to hate?

She beams, “I knew you would! Now, it’s really simple, just grab a bucket, a sponge, and claim a car that pulls up. The rest is up to you, but as we’ve learned so far, people tend to tip if you put on a little show.” She points to where one of her fellow sisters was leaning over the hood of a Jeep Wrangler and practically using her boobs to wipe around the soapy water. The frat guys leaning out of the windows hoot and holler and cheer for her.

The last thing you wanted to be doing today was putting on a show for sleazy frat boys, but you’d do anything for your roommate.

“I really appreciate this y/n.” she remarked, pulling you in for an embrace.

Like you said, you’d do anything for this pure soul.

“Don’t mention it girl.” You take a look around at the waiting line of cars. There had to be at least fifty. "‘Now, where’s my bucket? And preferably, someone rich enough to make this performance worth it."

Washing cars isn’t so bad – you only get soap in your eye once.

The only reason you got soap in your eye?

Na Jaemin.

Because how were you supposed to focus when he looked like that?

Water sprayed against his chest, each droplet clinging to the ridges of his abs like it had nowhere better to be. His pink hair dripped, plastered to his forehead, and when he ran a hand through it—fuck—you forgot how to breathe for a second.

Was dragging him back to Jennie’s car a bad idea? Probably. Was it on your mind? Absolutely.

But before you could entertain the thought any longer, Jaemin caught your stare—and winked. And like a complete idiot, you freaked out so hard you ended up blinding yourself with soap.

His laugh carried across the row of cars, embarrassment climbing your spine.

But he was looking too. In fact, Jaemin was staring. No—Jaemin was mesmerized. He thought your tits were distracting—but this? This was something else entirely. Because when you turned, revealing bare skin and that goddamn thong bikini, Jaemin forgot how to function. His brain short-circuited, mouth going completely dry, and suddenly, he understood religion. Because this? This was divine intervention.

He must have been staring too long, because Yuta elbowed him—hard.

"That your girl?" Yuta grinned, knowing damn well Jaemin was acting like a man down bad.

Jaemin nearly choked on air. "N-no, she’s just a friend."

Yuta didn’t believe that for a damn second."*

Yuta looks back and forth between the two of you, catching the way you peek up through your lashes in search of Jaemin. When you catch Yuta looking, you duck your head.

“She’s pretty.” Yuta breathes, reaching for the bucket of soapy water he had put down five minutes before.

Jaemin nods his head absentmindedly, “Yeah she is.”

Yuta is no stranger to love. His girlfriend, Chloe, and him have been together for years – ever since they were inexperienced freshmen at NCTU. Chloe was the light of his life, his forever. And the way that Jaemin was eyeing you right now was exactly how Yuta had looked at his girl during orientation at NCTU. A gaze filled with adoration and longing. Yuta bet that if he took Jaemins pulse right now it would be elevated as fuck.

Just as Yuta is about to tell Jaemin to go over there and ask you out, a sleek BMW pulls up to the curb with a soft purr.

The owner parks the car and Jaehyun steps out.

Jaemin can't hear from where he's standing, but he watches as Jaehyun strolls up to you and Jennie with a shit-eating grin.

“Excuse me one second.” Jaemin voices, dropping the sponge in his hand on the sidewalk.

If they weren’t dating yet, it wouldn’t be long, Yuta thinks.

Jaemin reaches you just in time to catch the tail end of Jaehyun’s sentence—and honestly, it takes every ounce of self-control not to swing on him right then and there.. His fists clenching at his sides, Jaemin forces a tight-lipped smile. The sight of you, standing there with a hint of uncertainty in your eyes, serves as a reminder to keep his composure.

"Hey, Jaehyun," Jaemin interjects, his voice steady despite the itch of anger climbing in his throat. "Glad you could make it. We've got plenty of cars to wash."

He doesn’t understand the source of his anger. There's no logical explanation for it. Jaehyun hasn't done anything wrong to you. Perhaps it's because Jaemin has unofficially claimed you as his own, even if only temporarily.

Jaehyun chuckles, “I’m not here to wash cars, this isn’t NEO’s philosophy.  Our philosophy is military related. But we’re having a volleyball tournament next week where people can bet, and the money will go to families of fallen soldiers. You can swing by if you’d like.”

"I'll keep that in mind, Jaehyun," Jaemin replies, his voice softer now, the edges of his frustration smoothing out.

Jennie speaks up, “I’ll definitely be there.”

Jaemin’s anger slowly dissipates. He can’t really be mad at a dude that did charity.

“I am here to get my car washed though.” Jaehyun continues, and he turns to look at you.

You don’t say a word, instead, Jennie takes charge, “Well lucky for you, that’s exactly what we’re doing. Don’t worry about payment.” She gives him a smile and Jaehyun doesn’t even bother looking in her direction.

“I was really hoping y/n here could do it?” You didn’t really know what to say. Why Jaehyun was specifically requesting you was odd. If he thought there was something between the two of you last night, he was sadly mistaken. The last thing you wanted was to be subjected to his banter.

And Jaemin wouldn’t let that happen anyways.

You exchange a hesitant glance with Jaemin, who stands beside you, his jaw set. When you look at Jennie, you can tell her heart deflates a little.

Jaehyun's request hangs in the air, and you feel a knot of unease tighten in your stomach.

"How about we all help?" Jaemin's voice cuts through the tension, his words a veiled warning to Jaehyun.

With a forced smile, you nod in agreement, grateful for Jaemin.

All four of you walk over to where Jaehyun’s car is parked, buckets and sponges in hand. Jaehyun persistent gaze lingers on you, and when Jaemin catches him staring at your ass, his anger flares up again.

When you bend down to place your bucket by your feet, Jaehyun leans in a little too close, his voice dripping with perversion as he addresses you directly. "I must say, y/n, I've been looking forward to spending some time with you again."

Your stomach churns at his words—the implication is clear, no matter how polite he tries to sound. This isn’t what you signed up for

With a subtle shift, Jaemin steps forward, effectively intercepting Jaehyun's advances. "Let's get started," he declares, his tone authoritative.

The task at hand becomes a welcome distraction, the rhythmic swish of water against the car offering a momentary reprieve from Jaehyun’s flirtation.

Well, until he opened his mouth again.

"So, have you always been this skilled with your hands?" Jaehyun's voice comes from behind you and when you look at him, you catch him smirking. "Or is it just with cars?"

Jaemin snaps.

"Okay, you know what?" he lets out a sharp, humorless laugh, hurling his bucket onto the ground with a loud slap. "I think we’re done here."

Jaehyun smirks. "What, can’t take a joke?"

Jaemin takes a step forward. "Oh, I can take a joke just fine. But here’s the thing—I don’t think Y/N finds you very funny."

You blink, caught off guard, and Jaemin doesn’t miss it.

Your heart breaks a little for your roommate. It was apparent that Jaehyuns move on you hurt her even more. And there was nothing you could do about it because you made this happen. It was your fault.

Jaemin doesn’t care to listen to Jaehyuns stammered out apology. You don’t either. You just let Jaemin grab your hand and tug you down the path. The pile of his clothes from earlier lies forgotten on the ground, completely abandoned.

Like last time, Haechans shoes sit tauntingly at the front door.

Unlike last time, Jaemin wastes no time in dragging you to his room, closing the door, and locking it.

His words come out in a low growl while he paces the room, “Don’t know why that guy thinks he can flirt with you like that. It’s so fucking weird. I mean, I know you look good,” he stops mid rant to look at you, eyes widening at the small bikini barely covering your exposed body, “So fucking good…but that doesn’t mean he can be a perv.”

Yeah, okay, hypocrite.

“Jaemin.” You whisper.

He throws a hand out, back to pacing. You watch his muscles contract and ripple with the force of his breathing. It didn’t make sense why he was getting so worked up.

“No, I get it. He’s a good-looking guy. But you…He shouldn’t even think about you. It’s like you’re here.” Jaemin puts a hand up over his head, and one far below his waist, “And he’s down here. You’re way too good for him.” Jaemin lets out a breathless chuckle, “And to do it in front of me, no less. Bastards got some really big balls.”

You barely stop yourself from rolling your eyes. The way he’s talking, you’d think Jaehyun was a bridge troll. Sighing, you sit back on the bed, not caring if you get it wet. “Not that big.” You mutter to yourself.

He ignores you again.

And you’re about sick of it.

“I mean, could he have been any more fucking pathetic? ‘Have you always been skilled with your hands? Or is it just with cars?’ Like what kind of shit is that. Any pickup line he could’ve chosen and he went with that?”

Jaemin's words echoed off the walls, his frustration palpable in the air, while you come to the realization that your slightly damp bathing suit was rather uncomfortable to be lounging around in.

And perhaps if he saw you without the bikini top, he’d finally stop his ranting and do something useful.

Like, say, fuck you into next week.

Because watching Jaemin pace shirtless, ranting about how other men didn’t deserve you, looking like he was one sentence away from going full caveman and staking a claim— well, it made you all hot and bothered.

You hated to use that phrase, but it was true.

With deft fingers, you unfastened the ties of your bikini top, the fabric slipping from your shoulders as you held it aloft in your hand. With a swift and calculated motion, you tossed it gently in Jaemin's direction, the fabric fluttering through the air before landing squarely on his path.

"Hey, what the—?" Jaemin's voice trailed off as he stooped to pick up the discarded bikini top, his confusion giving way to amusement as he held it up before him. "Well, well, well..." Jaemin turned towards you, a bemused smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Looks like you're missing something there, sweetheart."

You meet his gaze, feeling light and playful, warmth bubbling in your chest at the way he’s looking at you now—like he’s finally snapped out of his irritation and sees you for what you are: his.

“Oops! Must’ve slipped off,” you quip, stretching out lazily on the bed like you’ve got all the time in the world. “Thanks for catching that for me.”

Jaemin’s laughter fills the room, shaking his head as he steps closer, tossing the bikini top back in your direction, the fabric landing softly at your feet.

"Anytime," Jaemin replied, his tone biting.

His gaze drags down your body, taking his time, drinking you in like he doesn’t know where he wants to touch first. His jaw tenses as his fingers twitch at his sides.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” He tilts his head, voice dipping lower, more serious now.

You smirk, confidence flooding through you at the way he’s looking at you—hungry, wanting, aching. “I think you’re talking too much.”

Jaemin exhales a sharp breath through his nose, like he’s trying to hold onto the last bit of restraint he has left. Then, in a blur of movement, he’s on you—one knee pressing into the mattress, hands grabbing your hips, dragging you toward him like he owns you.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart,” he mutters, voice laced with something dark and promising.

And you can’t fucking wait.

His mouth is on you before you can even breathe, kissing you with enough force to knock every last coherent thought from your mind. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into the soft skin as he presses you down beneath him.

“You wanna tease me, baby?” he murmurs against your lips, nipping at your bottom one. “You wanna throw your little bikini at me like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing?”

You hum against his mouth, hands slipping up his bare chest, nails raking lightly over his toned muscles. “What if I did?”

Jaemin groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “Then I’m gonna have to remind you who you belong to.”

His hands move fast, slipping beneath your body to grip your ass, lifting you against him. You can feel the heat of him through his swim trunks, his hardness pressing right where you need him most. The sensation makes you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair.

Jaemin takes the sound as an invitation, trailing kisses down your jaw, your neck, pausing only to suck a mark into your collarbone before moving lower. His lips trace over the tops of your breasts, teasing, never quite where you want him, and it makes you squirm beneath him.

“Jaem—”

He tuts, dragging his teeth over your sensitive skin. “Patience, pretty girl.”

His tongue flicks against your nipple, a slow, agonizing tease before he finally closes his lips around it, sucking just enough to send a sharp wave of pleasure through you.

Your back arches instinctively, a soft moan slipping past your lips, and Jaemin groans at the sound, switching to the other breast, lavishing the same attention before continuing his descent down your body.

He pauses just above the waistband of your bikini bottoms, glancing up at you with hooded eyes. “You gonna stop me?”

You shake your head quickly, breathless. “Not a chance.”

Jaemin smirks, fingers hooking into the damp fabric, slowly peeling them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Because I’ve been waiting for this for a long, long time.”

Jaemin doesn’t waste time.

One second, you’re sprawled beneath him, breathless and burning from the way his lips and hands explore your skin, and the next, you’re being lifted. A startled gasp leaves you as Jaemin hauls you up effortlessly, arms securing you against his chest like you weigh nothing.

“Jaemin—”

You barely get his name out before your back meets the wall, his body pressing flush against yours, caging you in. The cool surface is a stark contrast to the heat radiating off him, sending a shiver down your spine. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hands clutching at his shoulders.

Then you realize which wall he’s pinned you against.

The one that separates his room from Haechan’s.

“Haechan.” You murmur.

Jaemin freezes for half a second before his grip on you tightens, fingers pressing deeper into your thighs where he holds you against the wall. His eyes flick to yours, dark, curious.

"God, why are you so fucking worried about him?" His voice is rough, teasing, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s daring you to say more.

"I-I just don’t want him to hear us," you whisper, even though your heart is pounding for an entirely different reason now.

Jaemin’s lips curl into a slow smirk, his hips rolling just enough to remind you of the position you’re in. "You know what?"

"What?" Your breath hitches when his hands shift, pressing you harder against the wall.

"Let’s play a game." His voice is low, dripping with amusement. "It’s called ‘don’t get caught.’"

Your stomach flips, heat rushing through you. "How do you p-play?"

Jaemin leans in, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear, voice nothing but a sinful whisper. "Well, I get to fuck you against this wall, and you have to try and keep your pretty little mouth shut."

Oh.

Oh, no.

Your pulse spikes—not just at his words, but at the absolute confidence in his tone. The way he’s so sure he’s about to ruin you.

Which, okay—fair assumption.

But keeping quiet?

With Jaemin?

You were already losing.

Your head falls back against the wall with a quiet thud, a shaky breath leaving you as his words sink in. You shouldn’t be this turned on. Not by the risk, not by the idea of Haechan being just feet away, completely unaware of what’s about to happen.

But you are.

And Jaemin knows it.

"You like that idea, don’t you?" He tilts his head, pressing a soft, taunting kiss to your jawline before dragging his lips down the side of your throat. "Bet it makes you even wetter."

You let out a shaky exhale, fingers curling into his shoulders. "Jaemin—"

He cuts you off by rolling his hips again, pressing the hard length of him right against your core. A strangled sound catches in your throat, and his smirk only grows.

"Shhh, baby," he coos, mockingly sweet. "You wouldn’t want him to hear, right?"

Your face burns, but you still can’t find it in yourself to stop him. You don’t want to. The thrill, the way Jaemin looks at you like he wants to devour you—it’s all too much.

His lips ghost over your collarbone, hands gripping tighter. "You trust me?"

You swallow, nodding without hesitation. "Yeah."

Jaemin hums in satisfaction, his tongue flicking over the sensitive spot beneath your ear. "Then be a good girl and take everything I give you."

His hands grip your thighs tighter, pressing you further into the wall, the cool surface grounding you for all of two seconds before he shifts his hips and drags the thick length of him against your soaked core. The friction alone sends a shudder through you, and Jaemin chuckles lowly, completely aware of how wrecked you already are.

“You really don’t want him to hear, huh?” His voice is dripping with amusement, teasing, as he rolls his hips again, letting the head of his cock nudge against your entrance but not pushing in. “Then you better keep those pretty little noises to yourself.”

You swallow down a whimper, biting your lip as your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Jaemin, please.”

He hums, pretending to think about it before shaking his head. “Nah. I like hearing you beg.”

Without warning, he pushes in, stretching you open in one slow, torturous thrust. Your breath catches in your throat, body tensing at the sheer pressure of him inside you. Jaemin groans at the feeling, forehead pressing against yours as his fingers dig into your skin.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, his voice rough. “So tight for me.”

Your nails scrape down his back, mouth parting as you struggle to keep yourself from moaning out loud. The stretch is too much, too good, and Jaemin knows it. He gives you a second to adjust before rolling his hips again, thrusting deep, setting a pace that has your head spinning.

The sound of skin against skin fills the room, each movement pressing you harder into the wall, the force of his thrusts making the drywall creak. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as Jaemin buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking a mark into your skin.

“Jaemin—” You choke on your own voice, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach.

“Shhh,” he warns, nipping at your jaw. “Don’t want our best friend knowing you’re getting dicked down by your other best friend, right?”A deep thrust punctuates his words, knocking the breath from your lungs. Jaemin pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes heavy-lidded and dark with something possessive. “But, since you can’t keep quiet, how about you open that pretty mouth and moan a little louder, yeah?” His smirk is wicked, taunting. “Give him a taste of what he can’t have.”

Your whole body tenses, shame and arousal intertwining into something dangerously intoxicating. “Jaemin, you’re such an ass—”

“But you love it,” he interrupts, grinning. “You love knowing he’s right there. That he could hear if you get too loud.” Your walls clench around him involuntarily, and Jaemin groans, his grip tightening on your hips. “Yeah, just like that. Let him know exactly how good I make you feel.”

You try to fight it, try to keep yourself quiet, but Jaemin’s pace is merciless, dragging pleasure out of you with every snap of his hips. Your thighs tremble around his waist, nails leaving half-moon marks on his skin as the tension inside you coils tighter and tighter.

“Go on, baby,” he coaxes, voice pure sin. “Let him hear you.”

Jaemin can feel you unraveling, your legs tightening around him, body trembling with every deep thrust he drives into you against the wall. But he’s not done.

Not even close.

With one last punishing snap of his hips, he pulls back, arms still secure beneath your thighs as he carries you away from the wall. You barely have time to whimper a protest before your back hits the mattress, the shift so sudden that it knocks the air from your lungs.

Jaemin hovers over you, eyes glazed, lips slick and parted as he drinks in the sight of you spread out beneath him. “Thought I was gonna let you off easy?” he taunts, gripping your chin between his fingers. “You should know me better than that.”

You barely have a second to respond before he flips you over, forcing you flat on your stomach, his body pressing over yours. A warm, heavy weight settles at the nape of your neck as he leans in, voice rough in your ear. “You feel that, baby?” He drags his cock through your slick folds, teasing, making you squirm. “Still so fucking wet for me.”

A strangled whine leaves you, and Jaemin chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “That’s my girl.”

Then, with no warning, he thrusts back inside you, punching a moan from your lips as your fingers fist into the sheets. The angle is brutal—deeper, sharper, every inch of him dragging against your walls in a way that has your mind short-circuiting.

Jaemin doesn’t ease into it. He’s lost now, completely caught in the way you take him, how your body sucks him in like you were made for him. His bicep curls around your throat, locking you in place, pinning you beneath him as he fucks you senseless.

“Look at you,” he groans, his jaw slack, eyes fixed on the mirror in front of you both. The reflection is obscene—your body rocking against his, his arm flexing where it holds you still, veins peeking from beneath his flushed skin.

His grin spreads, animalistic, as you let out a choked sound, your face growing hotter the longer he keeps you in that hold, pressed against hard muscle, body burning from the sheer intensity of it all.

“You can take it, baby,” he murmurs, his free hand dragging down your spine, pressing into the small of your back. “You’re so fucking pretty like this.”

His pace falters for half a second—just a fraction—before he lets out a shuddered breath, head dropping against your shoulder. He’s losing his grip, caught in the way you clench around him, how perfect you feel.

“She’s so pretty,” he thinks to himself, mind spinning, thoughts slurring as he fucks you through his own haze. “Need to—fuck—need to breed her.”

His teeth sink into your shoulder, a possessive growl ripping through him as he drives into you harder, deeper, lost in the only thought circling in his head:

Jaemin is gone.

There’s nothing left in his head but you—the way your body squeezes him so perfectly, the way your voice breaks every time he thrusts deeper, the way you’re letting him ruin you.

His grip around your throat tightens just a little, keeping you pressed against him, keeping you where he wants you. His breath is ragged, uneven groans slipping past his lips as he watches the way your mouth parts, the dazed look in your eyes reflecting in the mirror.

“Fuck, baby,” he grits out, thrusts turning erratic, desperate. His fingers dig into your hip, holding you down as he pounds into you. “You feel so fucking good. Can’t—shit—can’t hold out much longer.”

You don’t think you can either.

Your entire body is trembling, pleasure pooling low in your stomach, so tight it’s unbearable. You can’t think, can’t breathe, can only feel the way Jaemin is slamming into you, his muscles flexing beneath you as his control slips entirely.

“J-Jaemin—”

“Yeah, baby,” he pants, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. “I know. Just—fuck, just let go for me.”

And then—

A loud bang shakes the wall.

Your eyes snap open in horror, and Jaemin stills for half a second before a voice—Haechan’s voice—cuts through the air.

“Can you two shut the fuck up?! Some of us are trying to sleep!”

A sharp, startled gasp rips from your throat, but Jaemin—Jaemin just laughs.

The sound is low, deep, cocky, vibrating against your back as he picks up his pace again, rolling his hips into you with new determination. “Oh, baby,” he taunts, voice dripping with amusement, “you hear that?”

You can’t respond—you’re too busy trying to not completely fall apart, but Jaemin doesn’t care. His hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, desperate circles that make you arch into him, keening.

“Guess he heard after all.” His voice is rough, laced with a breathless chuckle. “Pretty girl getting fucked so good she’s keeping Haechan awake? And she likes it?”

You shake your head wildly, but your body betrays you, walls clenching around him so tight he nearly chokes on his own moan.

“Oh, you do,” Jaemin groans, thrusts turning punishing. “God, you fucking do.”

You can’t take it. The pressure, the tension, the way everything is building so fast—

“Jaem—”

“I got you, baby,” he grits out, fingers moving faster, hips snapping against yours. “Come for me. Come with me.”

One last thrust—deep, perfect, devastating—and you fall.

A choked cry slips past your lips as your orgasm crashes over you, white-hot pleasure consuming you whole. Your entire body convulses, squeezing Jaemin so tight he snaps, burying himself to the hilt as he follows you over the edge.

A guttural moan rips from his throat as he spills inside you, hips jerking in short, stuttering thrusts, riding out both of your highs. His arms tighten around you, holding you through every pulse, every tremor, every aftershock that leaves you utterly spent beneath him.

The room is thick with heat, with the sounds of heavy breathing, with the weight of what just happened.

Jaemin should stop.

He should be too spent. But he’s not. He can’t be.

Even as he shudders against you, panting against your shoulder. Even as his arms tremble from holding you so tight. He’s still moving. Still rolling his hips into you. Slower now but deeper, grinding himself into your swollen, overstimulated walls like he never wants to leave.

“J-Jaemin,” you whimper, voice wrecked. Your body still twitching from your orgasm.

He groans; mouth hot against your neck. His breath is ragged. “Just a little more,” he murmurs. Desperation thick in his voice. “Just—fuck—just let me give you all of it.”

His pace picks up again. Sharp. Desperate thrusts drag overstimulation through you. Making you gasp. Making you cling to him. He’s whining now. His breath hitching as he forces himself through his own sensitivity. Chasing something only he understands.

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes. His forehead presses into the crook of your neck. “So fucking perfect—fuck—”

His body is shaking. His fingers bruising where they grip your hips. His thrusts erratic. Mindless. Every muscle in his body working toward one thing—

Filling you up. Making sure you get all of him.

His jaw slackens. Eyes flutter shut. His head drops back. His mouth parts around a helpless moan. “God, baby—taking me so well—taking all of it—”

And then he’s coming again.

His whole body seizes. A wrecked cry breaks from his lips as he spills into you. Warmth floods deep inside you. Making your head spin. His hips jerk. Pushing himself as deep as he can go. His cock twitches with every last pulse. Every last drop he forces into you.

He’s whimpering. Gripping you tight. Hips stuttering through the aftershocks. Milking himself dry.

It’s too much. Too good. You don’t even realize you’re moaning his name again until Jaemin shudders and collapses on top of you.

The weight of him. The heat of him. The feeling of him still buried inside you. It’s all too much.

But you don’t want him to move.

Neither does he.

The warmth of Jaemin’s body lingers against yours, the weight of him heavy, grounding. His breath is still uneven, ghosting over your shoulder as his chest rises and falls in ragged intervals.

For a moment, neither of you move. The room is thick with heat, with the scent of sweat and sex, with the quiet hum of something that feels good. Right.

But then, Jaemin shifts.

His muscles tense beneath your touch. His hands, once gripping you like he never wanted to let go, loosen and slide away. Before you can register what’s happening, he’s pulling out, the loss of him sudden, leaving you sensitive and dazed.

You recline comfortably on the bed, the softness of the sheets embracing you like a warm hug. Jaemin stands by the door, his bare torso glistening in the soft light filtering through the window. With a mischievous grin, he slips out of the room, leaving you alone.

As the front door creaks open, confusion flits across your mind. Where could he be going, and why now? Your thoughts race with possibilities, each more curious than the last. You strain your ears, trying to catch any sound that might offer a clue. Did he really just leave the fucking dorm?

Minutes stretch into eternity until, finally, the door swings open once more, and Jaemin steps back into the room, a triumphant smile lighting up his face. In his hands, he carries two plastic take out bags, their savory aroma filling the air.

“I ordered us food when we were on the way back,” Jaemin announces with a grin as he approaches the bed, setting the tray down before you. “I got you chicken nuggets!”

It’s two am when you’re jolted awake by nothing in particular.

You suspect it has something to do with Jaemins low snoring – just softly into the shell of your ear. His arms are slung around you, one curled over your hip, the other underneath your neck acting like a makeshift pillow. Despite his hard lined muscles, he was surprisingly soft.

And it all felt a little too domestic.

Not that that’s bad – but it’s Jaemin you’re talking about here, and when did he ever do domestic.

As you lay there, a subtle panic begins to creep in. You couldn’t stay the night. Not when you were wide awake and freaking out over him cuddling you. But the sheets were so warm – he was warm – and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to close your eyes and just sleep.

No. You couldn’t. No matter if you wanted to or not.

Carefully disentangling yourself from Jaemin's embrace, you glance at the clock, anxiety settling in as you calculate the time it would take to slip out unnoticed.

The room is dimly lit – just enough for you to fumble through the pile of clothes on the floor and find his clothes you were wearing earlier. It’s kinda shitty that you’re stealing his clothes and dipping at the same time, but you don’t think he’ll mind.

You grab your phone off the desk and stuff it in your back pocket. Now was the tricky part – opening the door without it creaking and waking up the entire dorm floor. But just as you reached for the doorknob, Jaemin's voice broke the silence. "Leaving so soon?" he asked, his eyes barely visible in the dim light.

Startled, you turned to face him. Of course, he’d wake up and ruin your attempted escape plan that you spent five minutes freaking out over.

Jaemin sat up, his expression unreadable.

"I didn't want to be here when Haechan woke up." you explained in a hushed tone.

Jaemin nodded, understanding evident in his gaze. "You don't have to sneak out, you know. It's not like you're one of my hoes. You're a friend, and you can stay as long as you need. You can crash on the couch if you want?"

Surprised by his nonchalant response, you stammered out a thanks. "I really should just get back. Haechan asks too many questions. Plus, he already thinks something up because of the outfit thing.” You sway awkwardly in front of the door, “By the way, with the clothes and everything, I’ll wash them and bring them back when I can…"

Jaemin interrupted with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. Friends help each other out. It's not a big deal."

Relieved, you thanked him again. When you’re about to turn around and book it, Jaemin's speaks up, catching you off guard.

"Are you going to Jeno's hockey game tomorrow?" he asked, a casual note in his voice.

You nodded, "Yeah, I was planning to."

"Great," Jaemin replied. "Get home safe, Y/N. See you tomorrow."

With that, he rolled over, settling back into bed. His fluffy pink hair being the only thing you could see.

Well, that was a lot easier than you thought.

When you get home, the first thing you do is sit on your bed and stare at the wall.

Because what the fuck just happened?

You fucked Jaemin.

Like—actual, real-life, no-going-back, holy-shit-it-finally-happened fucked Jaemin.

It still doesn’t feel real.

Like, there should have been a warning, some kind of celestial sign that this was the day you’d cross that line. Maybe an earthquake. A shooting star. Haechan suddenly becoming abstinent from redbull.

Something.

But instead? You’re here, legs still wobbly, brain still fried, and the most whorish man you’ve ever met is currently leading the leaderboard of the best dick you’ve had in your entire life.

So, naturally, there’s only one thing left to do.

You grab your journal.

Like Haechan’s rating, there isn’t really a system—just gut feelings, raw statistics, and some level of pettiness. But that doesn’t matter.

Pen scratches against the paper as you start taking notes.

Points for multiple orgasms. (Your soul left your body at least twice.)

Points for teasing. (Menace. Absolute menace.)

Points for reassuring you. (Somehow both the softest and filthiest man alive.)

Points for talking you through your orgasm. (What the fuck was that? Like, actually?)

Major points for acting like everything was normal after. (Like he didn’t just ruin you against a wall.)

And finally, points for ordering takeout after. (Chicken nuggets? Unreal.)

After much deliberation, it’s decided. Jaemin receives a 9.3/10.

You pause.

Then suddenly scribble in an extra half point for Haechan and his voyeuristic ass at the library, bumping him up to a 7.9/10.

For a moment, you debate adding Jaehyun. He wasn’t part of the challenge, but keeping a record of all your endeavors might be beneficial.

Beneficial for what, you don’t know.

Still, after a minute of deliberation, you write his name down. And next to it?

1/10. So sad. Too bad.

With a satisfied sigh, you lean back and admire your work.

Congratulations, Jaemin.

You are currently ranked as the number one best fuck in the friend group.

For now.

Everything’s fine.

Everything is jussssst fine.

Except the two boys – your best friends to be precise – are sitting on either side of your body in a densely packed stadium, and perhaps your adrenaline is at an all-time high.

Like, who even cares that you took Haechans virginity. And honestly, fucking Jaemin was going to happen sooner or later…he was running out of fresh bodies on campus.

Right?

Right??

“You want a hotdog?”

Jaemin, clad in an NCTU hockey jersey, turns his attention to you, breaking you out of your thoughts. His pink hair falls into his eyes and you resist the urge to brush it away.

“Thanks, but I’m good.” You mumble. It felt like he’d caught you in something. For a moment, you wonder if he could tell you were slightly panicking.

But if he did, he doesn’t show it. He just gets out of his seat and starts heading up the concrete stairs towards the concession stand.

Haechan watches him leave, voice whiny, “Why didn’t he offer to get me one.”

Alone now, the crowd's buzz envelops you, the distant echo of cheers mingling with the hushed anticipation of halftime. Haechan's disappointment hangs in the air like a lingering question mark, drawing your attention to the empty seat beside you.

“Want to grab one yourself?” you snark, gesturing towards the concession stand where Jaemin disappeared into the crowd.

Haechan huffs, crossing his hands over his chest, “No need to be mean.”

Jaemin returns ten minutes later, clutching a steaming hotdog wrapped in foil. The aroma wafts through the air, triggering a wave of nausea that swirls in your stomach like a tempest. He settles back into his seat beside you, a grin lighting up his face as he unwraps the hotdog with eager anticipation. “Missed out, huh?” he teases, gesturing towards the now-opened concession.

You manage a weak smile, trying to ignore the churning in your stomach. “Yeah, looks like it,” you murmur, your voice strained against the rising discomfort.

As Jaemin takes a bite, relishing the taste of the hotdog, you fight the urge to turn away, the scent overpowering your senses. Each breath feels heavier, laden with the aroma that now threatens to engulf you.

Desperate to escape the suffocating smell, you rise from your seat, a wave of dizziness washing over you. “I think I need some fresh air,” you mutter, your words barely audible over the crowd’s clamor.

Jaemin’s expression shifts, concern flickering across his features as he watches you retreat. “You, okay?” he calls after you, the worry evident in his voice.

You offer a weak nod, a feeble attempt to reassure him as you navigate through the throng of spectators. You don’t notice Haechan following behind until you pass security and step out of the arena doors.

“Hey,” his voice cuts through the cool night air, “You sure you’re okay?”

Your steps falter for a moment, “Yeah,” you manage, your voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of cheering within the arena. “Just needed a breather.”

Haechan nods, his gaze unwavering as he studies you. In the quiet stillness of the night, the distant echoes of the game fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your shared breaths.

“Thanks for checking on me,” you offer, gratitude genuine in your voice.

A soft smile graces Haechan’s lips, “Just because you’re mean to me doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and once again, you’re reminded of what Mark said, ‘It meant so much more to him’.

You want to believe that he’s saying this as your friend. That it’s just a friendly gesture and nothing more. But one look at his face tells you it’s not. This is something he’s been wanting to say for a while – and your stomach coils at the thought.

“Haechan.” How were you supposed to navigate this…this rejection. “We can’t do this.”

He doesn’t bother teasing you. Doesn’t bother pretending like he doesn’t know what you mean.

"I know," he murmurs, "I just had to say it." There's a palpable ache in his words, as if they’re restrained. Oh, there’s so much more he wants to say.

"I appreciate you, Haechan," you offer, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze meets yours, and you fight the urge to back track on everything you just said. The look is broken beyond repair – his water line already filled with tears that threatened to spill on his honey gold cheeks.

“Y/n.” he starts, taking a step towards you. When he reaches his hand out, aiming to land on the side of your cheek, a touch that was surely to end in a kiss, you take a hesitant step backwards.

“Haechan, don’t,” you murmur, the words catching in your throat like a plea for understanding.

His hand hesitates mid-air, fingers curling back as if recoiling from the sting of rejection. The anguish in his eyes mirrors your own turmoil.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice a fragile thread, "I didn't mean to push you."

You swallow thickly, “We can’t.”

“But we can.” He counters, taking another step towards you. His eyes search yours for any ounce of longing. It couldn’t be one sided. It couldn’t. “Just give me a chance, please.” His voice breaks on the last words and so does your heart.

This was so out of the blue. You came to watch Jeno’s hockey game, and instead you’re breaking your best friend’s heart. Why did you have to be the bad guy all the time.

Haechan reaches for you again and this time you have to brush his hand away. “We can’t.” You affirm. You hated this. “I’m sorry if you’ve gotten the wrong idea­–”

“So, it meant nothing?” His voice is rising, eyes swimming with anger, with hurt, “Everything that happened, everything we did…it meant nothing?”

“It didn’t mean nothing, but we already discussed–”

“Yeah.” He spits angrily. “I remember. Trust me I do. I lay awake at night going over that fucking conversation like clockwork. Over and over and over again. I’ve been getting drunk just to stop thinking about it.” His hands tear at the roots of his hair in frustration, “Fuck, y/n, I can’t get you out of my head and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Haechan…” You want to reach out, give him a hug, get your friend back. Something. Anything.

He takes another step forward, grabbing your shoulders, grip tight with desperation. “Please. I need you. I want you. Fuck, I want you so bad. It’s killing me.” You think he’s about to lean in for a kiss, but he just cocks his head to the side, “Please.”

Your heart clenches as his words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. You're thankful that this side of the stadium laid empty, because onlookers would have made this so much worse.

“It was a one-time thing.” you mumble, voice firm despite the tremble in your words.

“But it wasn’t.” he whispers, “The library, remember? That’s how I know this can’t just be a me thing. You have to feel something too. I know you do.”

 "I..." Your voice falters, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you like a heavy burden. "Haechan, I care about you, but..." The words catch in your throat.

Tears glisten in his eyes as he takes a step back, the anguish written across his face. “Y/n…”

“Don’t say it, please, don’t say it.”

But the words tumble from his lips, a final plea, “Y/n, I love you.”

Everything comes to a crescendo, sounds and thoughts clashing together. The choked sob rips from your throat, and you let it. You let him see the pain you were feeling too. But you couldn’t return his testament. You couldn’t.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.” His voice is strong, even if the tears were streaming down his face and his throat felt thick, “I do.”

What the hell were you supposed to do. He wasn’t listening to you.

“Haechan, go home.” You plead. He couldn’t keep this up. Not here, not now. But he stands there, rooted in place, his gaze fixed on yours with a fierce determination that sends shivers down your spine.

“You have to feel the same.” He murmurs, more to himself than you.

He wasn’t going to stop this until you broke his heart completely. You might be the villain, but he wasn’t giving you any opportunities to be the hero here.

“I don’t.” You declare, not bothering to look him in the eyes. You couldn’t. “I don’t love you, Haechan. I never did, and I never will. I’m sorry.”

Avoiding his gaze, you hear him laugh bitterly. He spits on the sidewalk and shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his letterman jacket. “Wow.” He breathes, “Jennie was right. You really are a cold, stone-hearted bitch.”

What? Jennie?

You don’t have the opportunity to ask him what he means, because when you look back up, he’s already walking away, his figure fading into the night like a ghost.

He should have never followed you. Should have kept his mouth fucking shut. How could he be so stupid? To think you’d want him the same. What did he expect? That you’d throw yourself at him? That you’d accept him as yours. He should have known girls like you didn’t want to be tied down. Especially not to guys like Haechan.

Tears blur your vision as you watch him go, the weight of his words cutting deeper than you care to admit. You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to hold it together, but the floodgates open, and you're left gasping for air amidst a torrent of emotions.

Haechan's accusation echoes in your mind, a painful reminder of the fractures in your facade, the cracks in your carefully constructed armor. You overthink every word, every action, wondering if you truly deserve the label he's bestowed upon you.

You told him on night one that this wasn’t going to be anything. That it couldn’t. Yet, he was still hopeful. You ruined him.

Amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a flicker of defiance ignites within you—a reminder that you are more than the sum of his accusations, more than the pain etched into his departing figure.

His hurt is not your own.

You just hope you haven’t lost him forever.

With trembling hands, you wipe away the tears, steeling yourself to go back into the stadium. You didn’t want to. You wanted to go home and cry until you passed out with puffy eyes and a stopped-up nose. But Jaemin was waiting for your return, and Jeno needed you as his good luck charm.

You couldn’t disappoint everyone tonight.

When you return to your seat, Jaemin immediately knows something is wrong.

He shoots you a concerned glance, but you brush off his constant questions. You admit that Haechan went home, but you lie, saying it was because he was feeling sick.

As the hockey game continues before you, you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, unable to focus on the action unfolding on the ice. Not even when Jeno nearly gets into a fight with the opposing team does it manage to capture your attention. You merely watch the refs get between the clashing boys, holding on to Jeno’s fist that was already bloody from beating on the other guy’s helmet.

Jaemin doesn't press you further either, deciding to leave you alone entirely.

You only half-heartedly clap and cheer when Jeno scores the winning goal, securing victory for the NCTU hockey team. The crowd erupts in hoots and hollers, but your mind remains elsewhere.

As the final buzzer sounds and the crowd begins to filter out of the stadium, you and Jaemin make your way to the plexiglass that separates the rink from the seats. The victory celebrations fade into the background as you focus on finding Jeno amidst the chaos.

Finally spotting him, you and Jaemin exchange a glance before pressing your hands against the cold surface of the plexiglass. Jeno's eyes meet yours, a mixture of exhaustion and triumph reflected in their depths.

"Congratulations," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but the genuine warmth behind your words is unmistakable.

Jeno offers a tired smile, his fist bumping against the glass in silent acknowledgment.

That was all you could do before his coach started yelling for him to get in the locker room. Watching him skate away, you turn to Jaemin. “You going home?” 

Jaemin looks at you, concern etched into his features. “Yeah, do you need me to walk you home?” he asks gently.

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “No, I think I’ll wait around for Jeno,” you reply, “You can go ahead.”

Jaemin studies you for a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of reassurance. “Are you really okay?” he asks.

He knows something is up. He wished you would just tell him.

You offer a weak nod. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I just... I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

Understanding flickers in Jaemin’s eyes as he steps closer, wrapping you in a comforting hug. “I’m here if you need anything,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the confusion raging within you. You cling to the embrace for a moment longer, drawing strength from the warmth of his presence. And as you pull away, a sense of resolve settles over you.

He walks away with a smile, his steps echoing through the nearly empty stadium. Turning back to the locker room, you wait patiently for Jeno, your heart heavy with anticipation. Minutes stretch into eternity as you watch the hockey players leave one by one, the coach giving you a curious glance but saying nothing.

With a deep breath, you gather your courage and approach the locker room door. “Jeno?” you call out.

The door creaks open, revealing Jeno’s tired face. “Come in,” you hear him say faintly.

You push open the door and see him sitting on a wooden bench surrounded by dark blue, metal lockers. The one in front of his hunched figure is open, hockey gear spilling out. Jeno sits shirtless, nursing the hand that was bleeding earlier.

In the dimly lit locker room, silence hangs heavy between you and Jeno at first, each of you lost in your own thoughts.

“You were amazing out there,” you finally say, breaking the silence. He had been amazing, even if you hadn’t been paying attention – too caught up in Haechan’s admittance.

Jeno meets your gaze, gratitude shining in his tired eyes. “Thank you,” he replies. “The team is going out to celebrate,” he continues, his tone hesitant. “Are you... are you going with us?”

“Didn’t know I was invited,” you laugh.

He cracks a smile too, “Well, I wasn’t going to go, but I will if you go with me.”

You consider it for a second but shake your head. “I’m a bit tired. Probably just gonna go home.”

Jeno nods, “Same. I’ll probably just go back and smoke.”

You sense a shift in the atmosphere of the locker room. Something calmer – less high-tension. Jeno's next words catch you off guard.

“My coach really thinks I’m going to get scouted for the NHL,” he says, a mixture of excitement and apprehension in his voice.

“That’s amazing,” you reply, “It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

He leans forward and reaches into the locker, retrieving white gauze. Carefully, he unwraps the roll and starts to tightly wind it around his hand. You want to help him, but you didn’t know how. You were far from the medic friend ­– that was Jaemins job.

“I know.” He replies, “Means I gotta be on my best these next few games though.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” You murmur.

He nods but doesn’t say anything, so you decide to sit next to him on the bench. When you sit down, he leans into you. His chest was burning, despite the frigid temperature, and you feel the heat seep through your jersey. Despite playing a long game, he smelled good. Like cologne and mint. A good combo.

He starts humming some random tune, and you find your eyelids drooping. You were beyond tired. Beyond emotions. Beyond words. If anything, you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever. The comforting presence of being beside one of your best friends in the entire world.

Before you know it, Jeno is shaking your shoulder. “Y/n.” He murmurs. You snap your eyes open, and his face was dangerously close to yours, “You dozed off.” A smile breaks out on his face, and a heat creeps up your spine.

“S-Sorry,” you blurt, standing up a little too fast. The room starts to spin and Jeno has to grab your shoulders to keep you from falling down.

“Are you okay?” He questions, eyes piercing your own.

You rub your eyes tiredly, “Yeah, I’m just…fuck, I don’t know Jeno, I just feel off.”

Jeno's brow furrows with concern, and he pulls you into a comforting embrace. In that moment, everything you’ve tried keeping hidden away for the last hour, tumbles out, and you find yourself completely losing it, sobbing uncontrollably against his chest. He doesn't know what to do at first, his arms awkwardly encircling you as you cry. But then, with a gentleness that belies his strength, he brings your face into his hands and asks softly, “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. “I don’t know,” you manage between sobs. “I just... I feel lost, and I don’t know what to do.”

His thumb brushes away your tears, his touch a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. And looking up at him, you realize this is what you need. Not clingy like Haechan, not overly sweet, like Jaemin. You needed strong, steady, understanding.

You needed Jeno.

You don’t know if it’s genuine. Or if it’s the challenge. Or if you just welcomed the distraction, but words are tumbling from your lips before you know it. “Kiss me.”

He's so close. inches away, no, centimeters away. His breath, warm and enticing, mingles with the taste of mint and ice. The room contracts as he leans in. you open your mouth, he opens his.

"I can't, not like this," the words hang, lingering in the air. Tension doesn't dissipate; it transforms, a subtle shift in the locker room. "I'm not Jaemin."

“W-what?”

You may not be Jaemin, but don’t worry Jeno, you’ll get your turn.

A. NOTE. read the the note at the beginning of this post. and don't forget to reblog :)

TAGLIST. @newdeobi @jijihyunah @saintlyhyuck @mrkis @peachjaem00 @angelwonie @aliceinwhateverland @cabaretyun @allaboutthedongs @donutswithjaminthemiddle @bundleleeknow @sunshinedhyuck @kuingjuing @haechanalpha @thiccfullsun @jenoxygen @ishireads @greentealatte97 @aquamxrina @whymarkieyournameismark @marklexleaf @its-taeil-time @j4d @dearj43 @roohnyk @stargrll13 @hykwrld @leeluc @haechie @xuxisins @rainyjeno

[sungstars]

slut me out | njm x fem!reader

i.e you needed to give your situationship the time of his life after seeing his instagram story.

word count: 2.8k (not proof read)

content warning: situationship, open ending, smut lol, oral (m. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), explicit sex, unprotected sex(no!), creampie, lmk if i missed anything thanks!

author's note: two fics in one day! can we believe this LOL. would you guys be surprised if i said that i have a mark one that i'm hoping to finish and it'll be queued up for tomorrow morning/afternoon. i hope you all enjoy this fic and as always, dedicated to my crazy and delusional bffs. likes & reblogs are appreciated as always. requests are open till october 5th! i'm still working on my jay fic, and hoping to have that out by tuesday!!

“you’re fucking crazy,” you said once the phone picked up after the first ring, “you can delete that story, i saw it.”

jaemin let out a hearty laugh, “hmm? but jisungie looks so cute, what if one of my followers wants me to put them on with him?”

you jeer, fingering hovering over the red button on the screen, “you definitely could’ve posted him without making sure your shirt is unbuttoned and they can see the chain that i bought you peeking through. what if they’re crazy like me?”

“don’t worry, nobody has you beat in that department.” jaemin added quickly, “you can come over if you want.”

did you want to? absolutely. you needed to rock his world so hard that it was likely to be rated a category 9.5 earthquake.

“you can come to me,” you quipped back, “and hurry up, i dont have a lot of patience. don’t change either.”

“you’re so demanding,” jaemin whined, a glint of playfulness evident in his voice, “i have to stop at my other hoe’s house first, but i’ll be there.”

“not even funny.” you hung up the phone, rolling your eyes.

focusing back on your room, you jumped up in a panic. you needed to change and also pick up the clothes you had thrown all over the place.

realistically, you didn’t know if jaemin was kidding about seeing somebody else first, but if he wasn’t, you had about twenty minutes including traffic before he got to your place.

you shoved all the loose piece of clothing into whatever drawer or laundry basket they would fit into. doing a once over your room, you were satisfied with what you were able to do.

looking at your floor length mirror, you didn’t care too much about what you had on. a big t-shirt with snoopy playing baseball on the front.

easy access for jaemin, but you should probably change your dingy halloween panties from victoria secret into something cute.

perhaps pink? that seemed on brand for tonight’s theme.

you were digging through your underwear drawer looking for that lacey pink thong you got from the mall a few weeks ago when you heard a knock on your door.

“fuck,” you said, slamming the drawer shut to no avail and rubbing your hands down your hair to smooth out any frizz, “fuck.”

the knocking got louder, causing you to practically trip on air as you ran to grab the door.

“took your sweet time letting me in,” jaemin pouted. leaning against the doorframe when you opened it, “that mad at me?”

rolling your eyes, you pulled him in by his silky pajama shirt and closing the door behind him, “guess she wasn’t that good if you got here within the same hour of calling.”

jaemin smiled, dropping down onto your couch and sliding his shoes off, “i’d say she was pretty damn good if i got done quickly and i’m not here.”

you crossed your arms, scoffing at his comment and began to walk to your bedroom.

“you’re such a dick.”

“i heard that,” he said, jumping off the couch to chase behind you, “i'm just kidding y/n, you know it's just you."

"are you sure? cause you keep making comments about other girls, are you trynna compensate? i don't care if you see other people."

jaemin laughed at you for the nth time this evening, making you want to just slam your bedroom door in his face and lock him out, but unfortunately for you, seeing jaemin in those pink pajamas and gold chain sent you into borderline ovulation.

you grabbed jaemin by the arm, leading him to sit on your bed and standing between his legs.

"it's just you," jaemin reassured, a hand coming up to rub your hip gently, "just like driving you crazy 'cause i know you're really fucking insane."

jaemin got a whiff of your secret cloud perfume as you leaned down and kissed his neck gently.

"i'm going to turn you every way but loose tonight," you whispered into his ear, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and i'm gonna show you how insane i am over you."

a shiver went down jaemin's back as you kissed down his neck and to his adam's apple, making sure to suck dark marks into his skin before placing your lips on his.

his arms wrapped your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. your hands found their way entangled into his brunette locks, moaning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

the two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, though jaemin just wanted to put up a good fight before letting you win.

you then slipped your tongue into his mouth, removing your hands from his hair and moving them down to his shoulders.

you gently pushed him back and onto the mattress, letting your fingers skillfully undo his pajama shirt, enjoying the smooth silk under your fingertips before pulling the shirt open.

jaemin pressed his hips up, hoping to get a small bit of friction on his growing erection and moaning when you rut your own hips down.

pulling away from the kiss, your chest heaved as you did a lookover his body. his plush lips swollen and glossy with spit, dark splots decorating his skin from earlier, his own defined chest moving rapidly as he tried to catch his own breath.

"you look so pretty under me, jaem," you complimented, your fingers dancing across his exposed collarbones and down his gold chain, "a sight only i should be allowed to see."

jaemin exhaled heavily through his nose, "a sight only for you. . please, don't stop. i want you. . i need you so badly, y/n."

how could you deny such a request from a pretty boy completely at your disposal? you weren't a cruel or dumb woman, so of course you'll comply.

you leaned down to attach your lips to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently as you made your way down his chest.

moving the pink fabric away, you let your tongue teasingly flick at his nipple to elicit a whiny moan from his mouth before taking his nipple between your lips.

"fuck y/n," he groaned, "that feels so good."

smirking to yourself, you pull off and stand up. the boy's eyes widened, trying to hold back another whine because why did you pull off? and why are you standing?

"c'mon," jaemin said, voice cracking slightly, "don't be a tease."

"a tease?" you titled your head as he sat up on his elbows, "if you beg, i'll consider."

a bright red hue cascaded over jaemin's face at your request, but he couldn't get any more pathetic than he already looked.

"y/n," he pleaded, "please do something. i am so undeniably hard, and if i don't feel those pretty lips or pretty hands wrapped around my dick that i know you love, i will implode and you'll be out of a bomb dick appointment and home."

a laugh escaped, jaemin really knew what to say to make you give into him. it's why you liked him honestly. he was funny and charming, and did in fact have a great dick that drove you insane. you used to be normal before he stuck his dick in you.

jaemin reached forward, grabbing your hand and placing it over his boner. that action alone could've made you cum in your panties because pathetic jaemin was probably your favorite jaemin.

you instinctively wrapped your fingers around it the best you could while it was restrained in those silky pants, slowly jerking him off and watching a bead of precum stain the fabric.

"see how hard i am?" he asked, breathily, "all for you. all because of you."

stroking your ego was one of the many things jaemin was good at, so you decided to play nicely and give him something to relief this tension you could feel growing in his body.

"take 'em off," you said, releasing his cock from your grip, moving back to give him room, "show me that pretty dick, jaem."

if you weren't standing in front of him, you were sure he would've fell face forward onto your carpet from how fast he was trying to get his pants down and off his hips.

once they were at his thighs, you leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before sinking down to your knees.

you were face to face with jaemin's cock, the tip an angry shade of red and precum still leaking from his slit.

spit began to pool inside your mouth the longer you looked at it, and you stuck your tongue out to swipe the precum dribbling from his cock.

jaemin moaned out, hands gripping the sheets beneath him, “stop. . put it in your mouth.”

you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, “don’t make demands.”

the brunette’s jaw ticked, one hand coming up to your hair and the other grabbing the base of his dick.

he pushed your head back roughly, tapping the head of his cock on your lips and smearing more precum across, “don’t be a fucking tease.”

your eyes widened in surprise at the switch in jaemin's demeanor, but instead of giving him a hard time, you complied by opening your mouth for him.

without hesitation, jaemin shoved his cock into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag and tears well up in your eyes.

"don't get sensitive now," he mumbled, swiping the tears from your face, "now be good and suck. show me why you're my favorite."

his favorite? you should been his fuckin' only like he said you were earlier. what is up with the inconsistency? he's gonna piss you off.

you used your tongue to lick the under part of his cock, pulling off to leave just the tip in your mouth.

jaemin's grip on your hair tightened, trying his best to let you have control, but wanting nothing more than to just fuck your throat until you're sobbing.

you pulled completely off his cock, bringing your hand to jerk him off while you used your tongue to lick a stripe on his balls and gently suck.

the brunette's eyes rolled back, a string of moans and high pitched whines leaving his throat as you continued to toy with his balls.

whenever your hand reached the tip, you would squeeze every so slightly, causing him to fuck into your hand.

jaemin was close, and you could tell by the way he was whimpering and trying to chase your hand.

you looked up at him, smiling to yourself before pulling off his dick completely, basking in his borderline sob at the loss of contact.

"why did you stop?" tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like he would explode, "you're so fuckin' mean."

cooing, you wiped tears away from his eyes like he did earlier, "cause i knew you were close, jaem."

he sniffled, grabbing you and pinning you down onto the bed in one swift motion.

sometimes, you forget how strong he can be, causing you to get even more wet if that was possible. your panties were sticking almost uncomfortably to your cunt, and you were hoping he would do something to relief that soon.

too lost in your own thoughts of pleasure, you didn't even realize jaemin was pulling your t-shirt up until the cool air hit your nipples.

he used his lithe digits to roll your perked nipples around, causing you to squeal at the contact.

"love the panties," jaemin teased, using one of his hands to snap the waistband against your skin, "so cute and so soaked. god, you really get off from anything as long as it's me, huh?"

"you fuckin' wish," you tried to bite, but it came out as a whimper when he pressed his hand against your core, allowing for some friction of pleasure.

"shhh," he said, "can't even muster an ounce of niceness when i'm about to fuck you?"

jaemin flicked your nipples, smirking at your almost pained moan before moving down to take your underwear off, eyes watching how they were sticking to your sopping cunt, "so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded your head in compliance this time, "all for you."

he swiped a finger up your slit, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean, "taste so sweet, but act so so mean towards nana, wonder why that is?"

you huffed, hooking a heel behind his thigh and pulling him close so his cock would make some contact with your cunt, a noise escaping your throat when the tip came into rough contact with your clit.

"that needy? what was it you said earlier? beg. beg for it, dumb whore."

degrading was something you and jaemin never tried, but with how effortlessly it slipped out of his mouth, you wish he would've done it sooner.

"jaem," you grinded against his cock, "please fuck me, y'know you want to. please, i need it so badly."

jaemin just looked at you unimpressed, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, looking at how you falter when his tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves, "beg more."

you wanted to burst into tears, he knows how much you want him, he can feel how wet you are and probably at more slickness slipping out as he teased you, "nana, please put it in. i'll stop being mean, promise. i need your cock--i need you. please fuck me."

his left hand came up to smooth your hair out, smiling all his pearls at you as he slowly pushed the fat tip of his cock into you, finally.

jaemin slowly pushed himself into your cunt, moaning at how easily you took his cock, letting his hand fall from your hair and place pressure on your clit.

"it's like you were made for me, fuck" he gritted his teeth, thrusting shallowly into you, "taking me so well every time, your cunt just fuckin' sucks me in.. ha."

all you could do was moan in response, eyes rolling back when jaemin's gold chain smacked you in the nose, "fuck, too good."

jaemin rubbed your clit roughly as he picked his pace up, hips snapping against yours as your arousal ran down your thighs and his balls, creating a wet sound between the two of you.

you clenched around jaemin's cock, letting out high pitched noises of pleasure as he fucked you harshly, the knot in your stomach tightening and traveling down your pelvis.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you cried, placing your hand on his lower abdomen and trying to push him away, but he quickly snatched it and held it above your head, "jaem, fuck, please, it's too much."

jaemin ignored your pleas, "y'know you can take it, stop trying to run from it."

when jaemin snapped his hips harshly once more, you felt that knot in your stomach break and ecstasy overtake your senses.

you couldn't even muster the feeling of embarassment from how good you felt when liquid practically sprayed your thighs and jaemin's abdomen.

the boy tapped the head of his cock on your clit, groaning loudly as you continued to squirt before roughly showing himself back into you.

"jaemin," you squealed, back arching up, "i can't! i can't."

"you can," he said, fucking you harshly, feeling himself getting closer and closer, "and you will take this dick. you wanna whine about other people havin' it so bad, take it, slut."

with jaemin fucking you so soon after an intense orgasm, all you could do was sob and mumble his name. it wasn't going to take you long to cum again, and jaemin could tell about how you were clenching on his dick.

your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating red crescents as his chain smacked you over and over again, his orgasm approaching any second.

"i'm so close, angel." he whined, his thrusts starting to stutter and slow down, "fuck, can i come inside please?"

"o-of course," you nodded your head, your own orgasm approaching once more, "please cum in me."

one more snap of jaemin's hips and he let out a loud moan, stilling himself as white hot ropes of his cum began to fill you and create a creamy ring around his cock, "fuck, you were too good."

he began to thrust slowly to ride out your orgasms, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet praises into your ear.

once you pushed his chest away to let him know he was overstimulating you, he pulled out completely and laid next to you, chest heaving rapidly.

"y/n." he turned on his side, "i really do like you."

you smiled, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "i really like you too jaemin."

he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and pulled you closer to him, "it's always been just you."

end!