“push one of epi! avery, don’t you dare stop those compressions! where the hell is ka-”
your best friend jaemin finally paused the episode of grey’s anatomy that you were both watching on netflix. He set aside his laptop carefully as he tries his best not to wake you. It was times like this that jaemin treasures dearly. being a med student doesn’t really allow much free time. whenever you were given a day off from lectures, you choose to catch up on other tasks and readings instead.
He can’t help but stare at the way your lashes fan out on the cheeks that he adores so very much. He just wants to pinch and squeeze your mochi looking cheeks on most days. The few hair strands on your face were moved behind your ear before jaemin set your head onto the pillow. Never in his life has he been drawn towards someone until you came along. He smiles as he watches you slowly breathe in and out, looking so peaceful and stress free. Your sleeping figure made him realize that he would not want to spend the rest of his life without you.
Your gaze was focused on the moving images on your phone, eyes tracing the way the character’s hair moved in the wind as the male protagonist confessed to her. As much as you didn’t want to admit that the cliche made you emotional, it was true. A choked sob left your mouth as the girl’s eyes widened.
Jaemin’s ear perked at the sound, and he nonchalantly glanced over at you from his swiveling chair. Watching as you sniffled, he rolled his eyes playfully and let out a dramatic sigh; his white socks slid against the wooden floors as he glided over to you.
“And what’s wrong with you this time?” He teased, plopping on the bed and bouncing a few times from the impact. You ignored his words as you continued to focus on the rejection the protagonist was getting -- it was getting emotional. Your blue-haired boyfriend gave a tight smile at your blatant ignorance of him, but he breathed in and out, found peach within himself, and opted to climb onto your lap.
“Ugh! Jaemin, what’re you doing? I can’t focus on the subtitles when you’re shaking me.” You complained. “Just learn Japanese then. I’ll ask Yuta-hyung to tutor you.” He huffed, finally grabbing your phone and pausing the show. Whining, you reached up, but he carelessly threw it onto the chair he was just sitting on. “Na Jaemin! What if you missed?” He responded with a shrug and buried his head in your neck. “I guess I’d have to get you a new phone.” His words were smothered by your neck, but the warmth from his breath served to only relax you.
“Sure, whatever.”
Wet, chaste kisses were placed on the base of your neck and trailed up to your jawline. Giggling, you gripped the back of his head, hair tangled in your fingers as you pulled back, smiling. “Ow...” Jaemin whined, faking a pout. Truth be told, he liked that. A lot. “Stop being a baby and kiss me.” Your boyfriend’s heart fluttered at your straight-forwardness. It was different from how you used to be. A few years ago, you’d be burning crimson from just kissing his cheek. And now you were pulling his hair, telling him to kiss you.
It made him smile, knowing that his love did that to you. “Yeah, yeah. Stop being so impatient.” His last few words were muffled by your lips as they connected with his. Jaemin’s chapped lips on your soft ones was the best feeling in the world. And only he could give you it.
“Hmmm, Jaemin,” You whispered, eyes closed in bliss as he detached himself from your mouth and moved back down your neck. He hummed, and it sounded so melodic that it nearly made you burst with emotions. “I love you, like a lot.”
Jaemin stopped moving for a second, probably because his heart stopped. No matter how many times he’s heard those words from you, they’ve never failed to make his heart skip a beat. He smiled to himself, cheeks burning crimson.
“I know. I love you, too. Spend the rest of your life with me?” You laughed and hit his head, “Why? Do you have a ring?”
He looked up in false inquisition, “Hmm, not right now but I’ll go buy one after quarantine. Sound good?” Repeatedly hitting him, you covered your face, the heat radiating onto your hands. “Stop joking! Don’t play with my heart like that!”
“Oh? But I’m not joking, though.” Eyes wide, you looked down at him, expecting playful eyes. But there was only a soft look in his dark brown pupils. And your heart skipped two beats. “So? Will you marry me one day?”
When you learn from your teacher that the biggest project of the year will be a team effort, you can’t help but grow frustrated. Yet again, you’ll have to give double the efforts for an assignment that’ll be signed by two names that haven’t done anything close to equal work. You can’t help but be pleasantly surprised when you find out your partner is actually a fairly decent person.
Genre : Stranger to lover au, fluff
Pairing : Liu Yangyang x reader
Word Count : 3,2k
This goes out for the anon that requested a stranger to lover au with a shy yangyang confessing. Hope you like it <33
It had all started when you had been assigned to a project with a name you weren't familiar with. Your teacher had decided on making the biggest project of the year a team effort, which you found to be ridiculous. Your grades were something you were proud of; not like the usual student that attended your school. Even if you were in enriched classes, the vast majority of the class couldn't care less about their academic performance. All from rich families with contacts in almost every field, they didn't have to worry about studying, knowing their dream job was already waiting for them.
When your name had been called after the one of Liu Yangyang, you were everything but happy. You wanted nothing more than to be able to work by yourself, without having to constantly drag someone behind you, only to get a passing grade.
Not knowing much about the boy, you had been reluctant to meet up with him. You could already imagine how your first meeting would look like. Awkward silences followed by ideas the both of you wouldn’t agree on, and even more awkward silences. You had already come to the conclusion that you would have to do the work on your own.
Surprisingly, it had gone well. He had arrived ten minutes earlier than planned, with arms full of notebooks. You clearly remembered how he approached you with a warm smile since you were expecting the complete opposite.
"(Yn), right?" He asked, to which you nodded. "Hi, I'm Yangyang. I'll say it right now, I'm so happy to be paired with you. Now I won’t have to worry about Lucas leeching off my back for good grades." Relieved flooded through you. You let yourself relax into your chair as he sat down next to you.
"Okay, so, I did a bit of research this weekend since I had free time. I hope that’s okay with you." He said flipping through pages, already immersed in the work. To say you were in awe was an understatement. You couldn’t believe he was real. "Uh, hello?" He waved his hand in front of your face.
"Yes! Sorry- yes. It’s perfect." You said, trying to hold back a blabbering mess from spilling. "I just… I didn’t think I'd be paired with someone so enthusiastic."
"Is… that a bad thing?"
"No!" A loud shush resonated through the library. You swallowed nervously, repeating lower. "No, it's a great thing." Yangyang stared with a playful glint in his eyes.
"Good. I was joking by the way." With that, he continued explaining his ideas as if nothing happened. Your mind couldn’t process the situation. First off, you had been teamed up with a decent person. Well, decent was underplaying it. He seemed hard-working, interested, and even… kind? You concluded the next few weeks weren’t going to be so bad after all, and you were right.
In fact, the first few meetings in the library had gone so well that Yangyang had invited you to work over at his place instead. He had tried convincing you by saying that you’d be able to share your ideas more freely without the constant death stares of the librarian.
"Plus, I have an amazing variety of snacks and drinks at my place."
"Mmmh, I'm not sure if I'm convinced." You said with a teasing frown.
"Well, I also have a hot older brother that you can swoon over while you're pretending to listen to me." You through a pencil his way, trying to distract him from the blush that was slowly glazing your cheeks.
"You’re an idiot."
"I'll take that as a yes. We can walk there tomorrow together after school." and that’s exactly what you did. Walking down the streets of the neighborhood felt comfortable with him. The conversation flowed naturally, with jokes and teasing being the main elements. It was as if you had known him for a long time.
After walking through his front door, you immediately complimented the nice home. He had laughed a bit, promising to tell his mom. He assured you that it would bring her over the moon. You smiled thinking about Yangyang talking to his mom about you.
If you had thought that studying at his house would be a good idea, it had turned out to be a horrible one. Without the constant supervision of the librarian, you and Yangyang were left on your own. Almost no work was done that night. Instead, you discussed your favorite shows, meals, hobbies, and much more. You quickly realized you had a lot in common and that you liked being in his company. You hoped he felt the same way.
The rest of the week was spent forming a pattern. With you walking side by side with the grinning boy, arms occasionally touching each other. It was such a banal touch, but it still got your heart pumping faster. You were getting more at ease in his presence.
You had spent every afternoon over at his place. Sometimes you even forgot the main reason you were over, too occupied talking about anything and everything. It was so out of character of you to avoid finishing your school work, but here you were, captivated by the words of a boy you barely knew.
You usually left before his mom got home, trying your best to avoid any uncomfortable introductions. Each and every time, he’d walk you out with a twinkling smile and a promise to see you again tomorrow.
You always felt on cloud nine while walking home, reminiscing over every little detail that had stained your mind. For example, when his finger brushed against yours while reaching for the same pen at the same time. Or when he’d compliment your makeup and your clothes, although already seeing you that day.
Those small moments brought out the cliche school girl in you. You wanted nothing more but to stay in a constant state of daydream, with these little bits of souvenir being its main plot.
God, you were such a hopeless romantic. One more step and you were about to write his last name with yours in a journal.
It was only on Friday night that you told yourselves you needed to concentrate at least a minimum on the project due in a week. The both of you putting your mind at work for once, you had completely forgot about the time ticking by. It must had been around 6 o’clock when a little girl appeared in the dining room.
"Yangyang?" The girl called out. She could only be his sister, you assumed.
"Yeah?" She shyly walked up to him.
"Mom was wondering if your girlfriend was staying over for dinner." Shoot, you had overstayed your welcome. But wait... Were you hearing things right? Had she just called you his girlfriend?
"I don’t know, why don't you ask her." You felt as if you were on the edge of bursting. He stared at you intently, a smirk plastered on his lips. The girl inched towards your side of the table.
"Will you?" Her eyes held a hopeful glint.
"I- I, yeah. I mean- yes, sure." The little girl's smiled grew as she excitedly exited the room. You didn't dare to say a word until the sound of her skips resonated further in the house. "What was that about?"
"She wanted to know if you were staying over for dinner." He answered, unbothered, his attention glued to the screen of the laptop in front of him.
"Huh? Yeah, I got that part." You tried formulating your next words without sounding like an idiot. "She called me your…"
"You'll have to speak up if you want me to understand anything you're saying." He was playing dumb, you thought. Unless he was actually dumb but that couldn't be right. You crossed paths with a lot of stupid people in your life, and Yangyang wasn't a part of them.
Shaking your head, you let out a small laugh. It had probably just slipped out of his sister's mouth by accident. She probably called all of his female friends that and it just went over his head.
"Nothing. Don’t worry about it." You still weren’t sure if he was messing with you. He probably hadn’t heard it. Looking back at him, you swore you could’ve seen a look of disappointment flash on his face. You instantly tried lightening up the mood.
"Didn’t you tell me you had a hot brother?" You took the snicker he let out as a success.
"I only have a little sister… How else was I supposed to convince you to come over?" Definitely not the answer you were anticipating.
"Oh… I see." Silence followed. You had no idea how you were supposed to answer. You continued writing down on your paper until his voice interrupted you.
"The rosy cheeks is a good look on you." That's when you officially knew that Liu Yangyang would be the death of you.
After the dinner you had spent with his family, you felt that you couldn’t get closer to the boy. It was crazy to you that you barely knew of his existence a week ago.
His sister had shown herself to be way less timid at the table, blabbering her day away to you. You had listened carefully, adding jokes, where you thought, was necessary, earning high pitched giggles from the girl. You hadn't noticed how Yangyang was carefully watching the interaction.
His mom also noticed the way her daughter had opened up so easily to you. She also had caught the way her son's smile formed as he talked with you. She hadn't seen his smile get that big in a while. Peacefulness invaded her mind. She automatically knew that you were going to positively influence him.
When the dinner was finally over, you took the time to thank his mom for her kindness and the meal. You helped clean the table while the overjoyed girl insisted on showing you her doll collection.
"Don't bother her dear," Her mother tutted. "Y/n will have to go home now.” The girl crossed her arms, displeased with her mom.
"Yangyang, why don't you walk her up to the door?" Her mom sent you a wink, assuring you that you didn't have to clean up. She made it clear that you were welcomed whenever.
Arriving at the front door, the boy cleared his throat. "Sorry for my sister and my mom, they're a bit intense."
"Don't worry, they're super nice. I might come back next week just to see them again."
"Not me?" He let it out as a joke. He would have never admitted to it out loud, but he also wanted to see how you'd react.
"I think we've seen enough of each other for a while now, don't you think?" You teased back. He shrugged, his hands hidden in the pockets of his pants. Any trace of sarcasm had left him.
"It's nice spending time with you." He admitted. Your breath got caught in your throat. The expression on your face said it all. He took it as a win. "See you next week then."
The weekend succeeding that Friday night felt like the longest you had ever lived. Confined between the four walls of your bedroom, the minutes felt like hours. It was the first time you could remember being bored alone. Usually, you’d love having time to yourself, but now it seemed so pointless.
Still, an idea popped into your mind. You could take some advance on the work. That way, you'd get more time with the boy without this stupid project butting in.
“I’m such a genius.” You had mumbled to yourself, tipping furiously away on your computer. Even then, the subject had become dull and boring. You huffed and puffed through a few paragraphs before coming to a realization.
You wanted nothing more then to be in Yangyang’s presence again.
That’s why when you got to school Monday morning, the first thing you did was to scan the hallways, in search of his brown locks. When you had finally landed on his tall figure, putting his books in his locker, you felt an instant boost of happiness. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you walked up to him.
"Good morning!" You chirped. In response, he laughed gingerly. He was wearing a black hoodie and black jeans. It might not have been the finest fashion, but he shined in whatever clothes he was wearing.
"Someone seems to be in a good mood." You couldn’t even let his teasing get to you, too happy to finally see his charming face again.
"Your place tonight? I found more information, I think we might almost be done with this project!" The intentions behind your words were to be encouraging, but Yangyang had taken them like a blow to his guts. He didn’t want this project to end this fast. You, on the other side, we're working on the side to finish it quicker. Maybe he had read this wrong.
"Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you at the end of the day when the bell rings." With no other words, he walked further in the sea of students. You stood in the middle of the hallway, a pit forming in your stomach.
Something was wrong. You hadn't known him for long, but it had been enough time to know that the lack of emotion in his voice was not normal. You disparately wanted to run after him to know what was wrong, but ultimately decided against it.
You shouldn't have to push any information out of him. If he had something on his mind, you believed he'd come to you to discuss it.
In the meantime, you had continued your day as normal. It had gone by longer than usual, the itching thought of an upset Yangyang never quite leaving your mind alone.
As promised, when the last bell ranged, he was waiting beside your locker. The walk was different that afternoon. You had tried the usual small talk, but his answers were cut short. Even when you had thrown a few jokes, his reaction had stayed the same; serious and thinking, almost.
Arriving at his house, you were already making your way to the dining room until he grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking any further.
"Is it okay if we study in my room this time?" He asked. It was the first real sentence he had spoken to you in the last hour. His voice had a hint of a plea in it.
"Aren’t we going to finish the work in the dining room like we usually do?" The boy let out an exasperated sigh. There you were again with your fixation on finishing the project.
"Is that all you care about? Finishing the project and then going back to what it was like before?" He said, his grip on your hand tightening, almost as if he was scared you were going to disappear into thin air.
"Yangyang… I have no idea what you're talking about." He signed again.
"Can we please just go in my room, I’d prefer having this conversation in private, out of prying ears." He gestured to the side with his chin. You looked over to catch sight of his little sister's curious eyes peeking from the living room.
You agreed, following the boy in silence, your hand still in his. Entering his room, he closed the door behind him. His eyes wouldn’t leave the floor.
"Look, I know that you only care about the assignment at this point and all you want is to end it as quickly as possible, so here's what I suggest. I can finish it myself and you won’t have to come back-" You rapidly cut him off.
"Stop rambling, I won’t let you finish this thing alone." He had been bottling up his thoughts for the whole day and now they were coming out like word vomit. He bit his lip, annoyed with himself.
"Look, what I guess I’m trying to say, is that you don’t have to spend time with me anymore. It’s okay, I won’t take it personally." You held his arms as if to shake him out of his weird thoughts. His eyes finally met yours.
"I don’t know who or what made you think I didn’t want to spend time with you but it’s the complete opposite. I want to finish this project to spend some time with you, you idiot." Right away, you felt himself relax in your hold.
"So that’s why you continued working without me this weekend?" His tone was suddenly much gentler.
"Of course it is. This weekend felt like an eternity to me. The least I could do was to take some advance to spend some time with you doing literally anything else." The boy felt all his worries wash away. You knew exactly what to say for him to feel better.
"I’m glad I’m not the only one who thought those two days were abnormally long." You broke into a giggle. His expression quickly returned to a serious one.
"Y/n… I have to tell you something." You nodded, encouraging him to continue. " I- um, this is kind of hard to say."
He started playing with his fingers, trying the find a good way to deliver his feelings. You would’ve never thought you would get to see the boy grow so nervous. It was the first time you saw him stumbling over his words. Normally, you’d be the one in that position. You found the situation quite amusing.
"Stop smiling," He whined. "I’m trying to be serious!" You pressed your lips together, repressing a laugh.
"Sorry, sorry, go on." He walked around his room for a while before taking in a big inspiration. He stood in front of you, standing as still as a statue.
"I like you, Y/n." He said. His confession was remarkably anticlimactic that you couldn’t help but be confused.
"I like you too…?"
"No, you’re missing the point." He bit the inside of his cheek. " I like you, like you. I like the way you laugh or the way you’re so serious about your studies. I like your smile, your eyes, your nose, the way you giggle, or the way you roll your eyes when I say a stupid joke. I want to spend all of my free time with you. But most importantly- I want you to be my girlfriend." Your hands reached for his face, cupping his cheeks gently. He closed his eyes at the contact, his hands coming to layover yours.
"You’re in luck then, because I’d really like for you to be my boyfriend." You didn’t leave him the time to answer, instead choosing to press your lips carefully against his. He hummed, his hands diverting to your neck. His thumbs threw circles on your skin as he deepened the kiss.
His tongue swiped on your lip, to which you gladly let access into your mouth. Shivers ran through your body, the closeness being almost intoxicating. When he backed away for air, your lips mindlessly followed his, to which he chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. His lips landed one more time on yours, in a quick and chaste way.
"Don’t worry, when we finish this project, we can do all the catching up we have to do in that subject."
Aaand it's done! This is my longest work yet and I'm super proud of it.
Thanks to everyone who took the time to read it. Feedback is always appreciated:)
“You’ve got a lot of nerve for sneaking into my bed and not giving me a kiss,” Boyfriend!Jeno said, with a grin displayed on his face you could recognize even in this dark room. “Maybe sleeping on the couch wasn’t a good idea...” You whisper. “Mhm...Now come closer.” He replied, hands finding a way to sneak around your figure.
“Oh by the way, where’s the other boys?” He asked in confusion, “I bet they would crackle up if I had told them about this ehehehehe” He continues to chuckle in a rather, weird one though.
“Wait—I thought you guys went out?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
Jaemin looks around then right back at you. “Well, you can clearly see that I’m right in front of you. In flesh y/n.” He explains as he shrugs his shoulders.
Your forehead furrows even further. “Sooo, what the hell have you been doing that you absolutely had no idea where the boys were when you went home earlier than me?” You ranted in confusion at him.
Jaemin giggles. “Calm down y/n, I fell asleep okay? Ya know it’s hard to look for someone when that person is really trying hard to not be seen.” He smirks, causing you to shut your mouth.
“Besides, it’s really not a big deal that they left us here. Unless,” His turn to raise his eyebrow at you now, “you’re still guilty of something.” He says, crossing his arms.
It wasn’t really a big deal for you anymore—okay fine, it was still a big deal for you that you came in contact with him and not only that, you were alone with him in that space.
That could only mean one thing, more interaction!
Your mind panicked. You need to get out, you need to escape from the possible outcomes that were unfolding in your head. Grabbing your bag, you immediately made your way to the door.
It doesn’t matter where the heck are you going to end up for the night, the club at a fraternity house? Or should you just crash into a friend’s place?
Jaemin grabs your wrist, stopping you as well as your thoughts.
“Stay Y/n please just stay.”
His soothing voice shook your whole being. You really wanted to go out and escape yet another chance for you to talk to him but now—it seems like there’s nothing you can do.
You let out a sigh and turned to Jaemin, who was ready to let go of your hand and hear your words of farewell, however.
You beamed a smile at him. “What should we do to kill time then?”
His lips immediately formed into a wide grin and that was enough for you to convince yourself that you’ve made the right choice. You’re going to accept this one for now, but you’re going to make sure that the boys will get the best beating of their lives yet. They must be having the time of their lives right now.
That made you curious though. Where are they?
Unwary to you and Jaemin’s knowledge cause the both of you were somehow convinced that the boys were having the time of their lives, clubbing, partying, or what the hecky heck they were supposed to do.
Cause your assumptions might have been wrong or let’s just say—it was completely wrong. Turns out, they were having the worst time of their lives.
They’ve made the river park their own personalized debate arena.
“Who’s idea was it in the first place huh?!” Renjun snarls at Haechan, “I was supposed to be studying right now you maniac!”
“Hey! I thought you wanted to see the two idiots together cause they were giving your non-existent ass a damn hard time?!”
Renjun gasps in disbelief and proceeded to look at his ‘non-existent ass’. “How dare you say that I don’t have a butt when yours is as flat as a pancake!”
So yeah, basically the two were doing their thing as usual except the only difference were—they are in public. Making it 1000000x more embarrassing.
Jeno on the other hand, has his lips puckered while sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, mindlessly playing his game on his phone. He was trying his best to ignore his companions as well as pretending to not know any of them, cause they were hella embarrassing
Thoughts such as ‘I regret my life rn’ ‘I wish I should’ve just stayed back home’ ‘I don’t know those guys’
Yeah, each one of them were regretting their life decisions, especially Jeno.
He doesn’t even know how is he going to go home peacefully at this point. He was a hundred percent sure about the events that were about to go down when they go back home.
And it wasn’t going to be good.
So for the mean time, he’s just gonna enjoy the fresh air and play his games while pretending that the two boys who were just exactly 5 meters away from him were non-existent and silently hope for the best.
“Why was I friends with these psychopaths.” Jeno mutters to himself quietly. Which wasn’t really that quiet since someone might have picked up his words.
Renjun turns around to Jeno with angry eyes. “Ya! Lee Jeno! Who were you calling a psychopath huh? It better be this bitch here or else!” Renjun said that annoyed Haechan.
Haechan’s eyes widened.“You bastard! I’m going to fucking kill you!”
“Not if I kill you first!”
Jeno just smiled to himself while shaking his head. “Kids.”
You thought the idea of staying with Jaemin would be fun.
The both you could play games, watch movies, or even talk about you know—stuff. Maybe you made up your decision a little bit too fast? No, it would be fun. You haven’t really spent time with him since you avoided him.
Maybe this time, you could make up for the lost time. It wouldn’t be awkward right?
If you were sure that the both of you can spend leisure time together without being awkward then—you were completely wrong.
You stared into blank space as the terribly awkward atmosphere messes with your brain. Who would’ve thought that a happy question could lead to this situation right now?
Well, who were you kidding? Of course it would be awkward, why didn’t you thought of this sooner? You should’ve just went out.
You’re really going to kill the boys once they step foot inside of the building.
If it weren’t for those morons then you wouldn’t be sitting here staring into thin air for the past hour with Na Jaemin. Yes, you’ve been sitting for the last hour and now your butt is starting to hurt like hell.
You’re also hungry af, you haven’t eaten anything except for those countless glasses of strawberry milk that you had at the cafe when you ran away earlier.
You just wish that your stomach wouldn’t betray you and make noises without—
“Ahm Y/n? Was that your stomach?” Jaemin asks after he heard a loud growl.
—asking for your permission. great.
“Ah hehehehe,” you giggle nervously, “yeah that was me. I haven’t eaten anything after school ended.” You smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head in bashfulness.
Jaemin chuckled loudly leaving you confused. “You should’ve told me then haha, come on I’ll cook us something.” He says while standing up.
“Oh really? You really don’t have to, I’m fine.”
“Your stomach says otherwise Y/n.” He smirks at you which made you responded with a blank face. “Come on now~.” He convinces you while pulling your arm. You always wonder why he pulls your arm when he tries to convince you at something.
Well, it does work though.
You sat at the table while you for Jaemin to finish up cooking. Yeah you weren’t helping, you really wanted to cause it would be burdensome for him if he did all the work by himself.
But he insisted, saying that he was ‘the chef of the household’ and it was his responsibility to do the cooking. If you were being honest, that was a very ridiculous reason but nonetheless you accepted it.
You were too tired to create an argument and who wouldn’t want to just sit and do nothing right?
He worked in the kitchen for probably about 20 minutes, Jaemin decided to cook something easy and quick as you were probably tired and need to head to bed any time now.
How can he say so? It was evident that sleep was already at your doorstep when you kept on staring onto space for the past few hours now.
You snap out of your reverie when Jaemin placed a bowl of fried rice and fried eggs in front of you. The aroma of the food slowly made it’s way to your nostrils making your mouth water by it’s scent.
After you thank Jaemin you immediately begin to devour your bowl. After sometime, you tried taking another spoonful of the fried rice but instead you were met by a sad clinking sound of the bowl.
“Uh? It’s gone already?” You ask your self as you took the bowl closer to your face to take a better look. Empty.
Jaemin snickers at you making you look at him in confusion which then he immediately stops. You gave him ‘the look’.
“What?”
“Why were you laughing at me~?” you ask in a annoyed tone.
“Why?” He chuckles looking at you from top to bottom then averting his gaze. “You were cute.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you look away from him, avoiding his eyes in attempt to hide your flushed face. You stood up flustered and made your way to the sink to put away your dishes.
Jaemin was confused when he saw you walking towards your bedroom. “Hey! Where are you going?”
“I’m going to bed.” You responded quickly.
You were about to open the door to your bedroom when Jaemin grabbed your wrist. How many times have he stopped you today by grabbing your wrist?
“Can you stay for a little while longer? I want to talk to you about something.”
You turned to look at him. “There’s nothing for us to talk about Jaemin, and if this is about the other week then please, let’s just forget about that.” You pulled your wrist from him and continued to open your door.
“How can I forget about that when I haven’t even said what I wanted to tell you.” His words made you stop.
You look at him in the eye. “Jaemin please—” your words got cut off by him.
“Tell me, why did I decide to leave home so that I could be here?”
“Because—”
“Tell me y/n, why did I still made efforts knowing that you’d still run to Jeno in the end?”
“J-jaemin...”
He ran his fingertips through his brown strands. “Why do I feel jealous whenever a guy touches you even if we were just friends?”
You were confused by his words, you never knew Jaemin felt that way about you.
Does this mean you were special to him?
That he treasures you? Or is it—
He grabbed your arm and embraced you tightly that caught you by surprise. “I love you y/n, I love you so much to the point that I had to pretend because I was afraid to lose you.” His words were genuine.
You were shocked and happy and dazed at the same time, you were already tired and then these new information started shaking your mind. You never knew but, what about Miri?
“I-i thought you still love her?” you asked softly.
“I didn’t y/n, I never did. I tried to forget about my feelings for you but I—can’t. I can’t bear to think that I would lose you y/n.”
“Why would you lose me?”
“I was scared that if I told you the truth you’d be gone, forever. I was scared that I might ruin our friendship. So what you told me last week, it made me feel—ecstatic. From that moment on, I realized that I should stop pretending and do something. My feelings only get stronger and stronger each day.” Jaemin admits as tears fall from his eyes.
You smiled and returned the hug. “You know? I was scared too Jaemin. But now, I’d be gladly to say that—I love you too.” you say as your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest.
You cannot see it but you were sure that Jaemin smiled widely as he embraced you closer to his. Everything was—perfect.
The both of you stayed in that position for quite a while, your chin was resting on Jaemin’s shoulder as he slowly caresses your back. Only stopping when he heard your soft snores.
He smiled to himself, you must have been really tired for you to pass out while standing. Jaemin slowly picked you up and opened your bedroom door. Which caused your eyes to snap open while muttering a soft ‘please don’t leave me’.
Jaemin then decided to take you to the couch. He sat on one end while you peacefully sleep on his lap.
He still couldn’t believe it. Who would’ve thought that the both of you will be in this position. With you in his arms as he slowly guides you to sleep.
Not as friends, but finally as lovers.
Haechan and Renjun quietly tiptoe their way to the dorm while silently wishing that you and Jaemin were already fast asleep cause if not, they’re going to get their butts whooped tonight.
On the other hand, Jeno was casually walking not giving a damn even if his shoes were producing clinking sounds across the tiled floor.
“YA! Lee Jeno! Would kindly make your foot shut up?” Renjun whisper-yells at him.
Jeno’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ahm no? Why would I? It’s not like my foot has a mouth so that I’d be able to make it shut up.” Jeno sarcastically replies to Renjun.
“Will the both of you shut up? I am about to open the fucking door and if y/n sees us then we’ll be fucking dead,” His eyes widened while running his finger across his neck to indicate that ‘they will be dead’.
That made the two shut up while Haechan cautiously open the door, praying that it wouldn’t make any sound to betray them. But much to their dismay, the opening of the door made a ‘creaking’ sound that would certainly wake anyone who wasn’t a heavy sleeper.
This caused the three of them to scrunch their faces in disappointment.
In addition to that, they were welcomed by a wide-eyed Jaemin who was noticeably waiting for them and that scared the living shit of their souls.
“WAH!” Haechan freaks out.
“WHAT WHAT WHAT!” Renjun follows.
“Took you two long enough.” Jeno said as he was the first person to notice your sleeping figure on Jaemin’s lap.
Jaemin just gave them a fake smile while hushing them to prevent you from waking up.
“Oh boi, I guess our plan worked!” Renjun glee cheerfully, giving Haechan a high five.
“So, you were the guys who planned this shit ei? Guess who’s gonna get a nice, lovely beating tomorrow.” Jaemin clicks his tongue while shaking his head.
“Ahehehehehe we’re sorry.” Haechan apologizes.
“We only planned this out cause I was fucking tired of seeing you both being in-denial. It was stressing me out.” Renjun complains, folding his arms together.
Jaemin just rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to Jeno, waiting for his explanation for his side of the story.
He immediately shakes his head. “Nuh uh, I wasn’t apart of this. These guys blackmailed me saying that they will destroy my computer if I didn’t tag along.” Jeno briefly explains.
Jaemin just rolled his eyes for the nth time. “Did you guys had fun? What did you do?” He asks.
Renjun and Haechan awkwardly laughs.
“Of c-course we had fun. We ate out tonight and—” Haechan reasons out.
“We ate pizza”
“We ate burgers.”
Renjun and Haechan both said at the same time. Haechan gave Renjun the ‘stink eye’ telling him to shut up.
“Ah yes we ate burgers and pizza we also went bowling. Yeah we had fun hehehe.” Haechan awkwardly laughs.
Jaemin pursed his lips as he knew they were lying.
“Well, I didn’t know we went bowling and ate burgers? All I knew was there was apparently two boys bickering at the park as if it was their debating arena.” Jeno innocently says.
“Oh. okay. gotta blast.” Renjun says as he and Haechan ran for their rooms and immediately lock their doors.
Jaemin and Jeno laughed at the behaviors of the two.
Jeno turned to your sleeping figure and gave Jaemin a warm smile. “Take care of her huh? She’s been through so much.”
Jaemin returned the smile to Jeno. “I’d definitely will,” Jaemin looks at you and gave your fore head a gentle kiss.
“She means the world to me.”
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A/N: Again I’m sorry for the latee update, i’ll have more time now that school has been moved again. Wiee ty!
100 follower special w/Jaemin for @insomni-writing !
A/N: I hit 100 followers a while ago but Somni came up with a great idea for me to celebrate! The numbers are NOT in chronological order, so I hope it’s not too confusing. There’s potential for more parts of this in the future ^^
Description: You reminisce on some of your most memorable moments with Jaemin.
Word Count: 13.5k
Genre: fluff!! there’s a touch of angst, but it’s mostly fluff
Warnings: there might be a handful of swears?, alcohol at some point
One.
Na Jaemin has one mouth and he certainly uses it as much as he can. The only thing you know about Na Jaemin is he’s loud and you’re not sure you like him. On the contrary, everyone else in your class seems to be obsessed with him, as can be easily observed by the hoards of confessions he’s getting today. You would think that behavior would go away when you got to college, but apparently not.
Today is White Day and you are not in the holiday spirit.
Every break that your class has, the room explodes with noise as girls who, one after the other, are giving him so many chocolates that he barely has room to write on his desk anymore. Jaemin’s responses of, “you’re cute, but…” and “I’m sorry, you’re lovely, but…” to every girl that approaches him fill the space of the classroom while you’re at your own desk trying to study. Unluckily for you, Jaemin sits right in front of you and your best friend, Hyunjin, sits on the opposite side of the room. She shoots you a pitying look when she sees the irritated look on your face and you shrug. It only takes one more minute listening to the chattering of the girls gathered around the desk in front of you before you’re grabbing your textbook and walking out of the classroom.
In the hallway, things are nice and peaceful for a little while when you plop down on the floor and open your textbook. The sounds in the classroom are muffled by the door and walls and you find yourself focusing much better. That is, until a boy from the classroom next door stops in front of you. “What are you doing out here?”
“I’m studying.” You answer shortly. You know this boy well - mostly because he won’t leave you alone. Not in the cute way, no. In the mean way.
“Don’t wanna be in the classroom because everyone is getting together and you’re alone?” He looms over you, his arms crossed over his chest.
You purse your lips together at that. “I don’t want a boyfriend, Jiwoon.”
“It’s not like you could get one anyways, even if you-”
“Hey, cut it out.” Jiwoon is interrupted when, to your surprise, another voice cuts into the conversation. In your distraction, you hadn’t noticed that Na Jaemin had left the classroom and is now standing a few feet away, giving Jiwoon a look. Jaemin starts to speak again before either of you can say anything. “If you like her, just say so. There’s no need to be an ass.”
Jiwoon turns three shades of red before he finally stutters out, “I don’t like her!” and shuffles quickly away to his own classroom.
“He doesn’t like me. He’s always just been a jerk for no reason,” you say, feeling the need to clarify to Jaemin. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before he looks at you.
“He’s just doing that thing guys do. The one where they’re mean to the girl they like because they think that’s how they’ll get your attention.”
Your lips part in an expression of surprise before you let out a little, “Oh.”
“You’re welcome, by the way.” He breaks into a cocky smirk and your expression changes into one of irritation. “You owe me one, now.”
“Owe you what? I don’t owe you anything!” You try to insist, but he’s already walking further down the hall and it’s not long before he’s out of sight.
Two.
Na Jaemin won’t stop staring at you.
Since Jaemin technically helped you out in the hall on White Day, you supposed you owed him something. He called in his favor about three weeks ago, when he practically begged you to tutor him in physics. Usually, tutoring meant studying with him and helping him whenever he had trouble, but, today, he’s just been staring at you for most of the time.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, trying to shield your face from his view with your hand. He hums in response to your request, looking back at his textbook. A moment later, you can feel him staring at you again, so you sigh heavily and turn to him fully, your head resting on your arm.
“Jaemin, if you have an issue with me, please just say it.” This time, he doesn’t even pretend to look away from you, keeping intense eye contact instead. The eye contact lasts long enough that you feel slightly uncomfortable, but you refuse to back down. He blinks a slow, long blink that, for some reason, has you feeling shy and makes your cheeks warm up. His long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones in the somewhat dim light of the library and his dark brown hair sweeps quite nicely over his forehead, parted just off from the middle. You refused to let yourself acknowledge it before, but Na Jaemin is, in fact, quite attractive. Finally, you feel like you have to say something again. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown a third eye?” You mutter, shying under his gaze. If he’s not searching your soul, it certainly feels like it.
“I’m not…” His words are somewhat mumbled as he continues to stare you in the eyes, “but you do have two eyes and they are very pretty.”
When those words leave his lips, your jaw practically drops and you can feel your face changing from warm to blazing hot. “I, you, ah-” you stutter, trying to find something to say, but grasping nothing.
His lips spread into a wide, bright smile that shows all of his teeth. “Do you want to get coffee with me after this?”
“Ask me again after you’ve finished the physics homework,” you mumble, practically burying your face in your own book, “and only if you don’t make me try that hell concoction you call a drink.”
You suppose that, somewhere along the last few weeks, you might have fallen for him.
Three.
Na Jaemin considers himself a photographer and, even you, a cynic among cynics, can’t help but agree that he does take some nice pictures sometimes. Then again, sometimes he chooses to take the absolute ugliest pictures of you, saving them as his phone background and not letting you change it. But, since he considers himself a photographer, he demands you take pictures with him anyways. There are a few in particular that come to mind.
“Wait, there!” Jaemin says, hand clasped in yours. You would call this your official first date, though you had been alone with him many times before. You’re still reeling from when he had actually told you he likes you about ten minutes ago, but he quickly guided you along, saying something about ‘golden hour.’ Now, Jaemin is pulling you towards a glass balcony that’s open to the spring air. The glass bends the orange-red light of the setting sun and almost makes the two of you glow just standing there. There’s a few other people milling about on this floor of the building, so Jaemin quickly taps one of them on the shoulder, giving them that charming smile of his and asking if they can take your picture on the balcony.
Just as the person reaches three in the countdown, he leans down, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your own expression changes just in time for the camera to catch it. “Jaemin!” You say, hitting him lightly on the arm. “You can’t just do those things out of nowhere!”
“You liked it though, didn’t you?” He collects his phone from the stranger and thanks them before turning around, catching the embarrassment clear on your face. He taps on the photo, showing you the picture. Both of you are bathed in the light of the setting sun, glowing golden halos of light around your heads, your surprised expression clear on your face, and his eyes closed as he kisses your cheek. “See? So cute.”
You’ve been with Jaemin for just a tad longer than three years now and the sunset pictures he makes you take with him every year, each with a different surprise, have become your favorites.
Four.
Na Jaemin considers himself to be quite the romantic. Most of the time, you would agree. He’s a rose petals in the bathtub, candles at dinner, slow jazz in the background kind of guy. You try not to let his efforts go unnoticed, as any loving girlfriend would, though you can’t say you’re nearly as smooth about romantic things as he is. However, for all his sensibilities, sometimes he has strange timing.
On the train, enroute to Busan, where you plan to spend the weekend with him, he has your hand firmly in his. Whenever you try to let go of it, he squeezes your hand tighter, so you accepted his grip a while ago. A little while ago, he had offered you an airpod, so you’re casually listening to his music and leaning against his shoulder as the train continues on its track. Idly, you thumb at the rings he’s wearing. One, two, on this hand and… another two on the other hand. Four rings in total. “Jaemin,” you say, breaking the easy silence between the two of you, “where did you get your rings?”
“Hm?” He focuses on you and processes your question a second later. “Oh. This one, I got from my mom, this one is from Jeno, this one is for UNICEF, and this one is just cool looking.” One by one, he taps the rings, still holding onto your hand. “Why? Do you want me to take them off? Is it uncomfortable?”
You shake your head. “No, you’re good. I was just wondering.”
“Do you like them?” Not knowing where he’s going, but knowing he’s scheming something by the tone of his voice, you carefully nod. “Well, I’ll get you a ring one day. It’ll be a lot fancier than these, though.”
It takes you a moment to really understand what he’s implying, but then your cheeks are heating up - not an unusual occurrence with Jaemin - and you’re burying your face in his shoulder. “Jaemin,” you whine, your voice muffled by his shirt, “you can’t just say things like that.”
“I can if it’s true.” A weak punch on the arm is all you respond with, his hand still tightly squeezed in yours.
Five.
Na Jaemin is the person you’ve spent more time with than anyone else for the last few weeks. And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend.
Not that you’re expecting him to, or that he has to be the one who asks you. If you were certain that’s what he wants, you would ask him, but… you’re not sure. You don’t think he’s been seeing anyone else, but, by definition, you’re not exclusive. He could be seeing any number of the girls who confessed to him or are constantly chasing after him. You don’t think he actually is, but you’re scared. What if he doesn’t like you as much as you like him?
You’ve gone on four different “official” dates with him and tonight is date number five. When he shows up in front of your apartment, all smiles, you almost immediately forget all of your worries about your situation, content with just taking his hand when he offers it to you. The little hole-in-the-wall restaurant he takes you to is perfect, a pretty, small place with low lighting that smells vaguely of roses, and everything about the date is perfect. Until the waiter comes back for the second time.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” He says, directing his attention to Jaemin and then, a beat later, to you. “Or maybe for the girlfriend?”
Before your expression can even shift into one of awkwardness, Jaemin is smiling gently and shaking his head. “That’s okay, but thank you.” Confusion is clearly on your face when the waiter says he’ll be right back with your check and walks away, prompting Jaemin to look back at you. He quirks an eyebrow at you. “What? Did you want something else?”
“I… You…” You look back and forth between Jaemin and the direction the waiter disappeared off in. How are you supposed to explain…?
“Oh, you don’t like being called my girlfriend?” Jaemin tilts his head, the picture of obliviousness. At the back of your mind, some part of you knows he’s just messing with you, but you ignore that side of your brain.
“No, I like it!” Your mouth moves faster than your brain does for once and, almost instantly, you feel like your cheeks are on fire. Pursing your lips, you look away from him, practically burning up in your seat.
“Aha! That’s what I was waiting for!” As he says that, the waiter returns with your check, preventing him from explaining himself. He takes the check and gets up, practically waltzing to your side of the table and reaching for your hand, which you take without much question. Impatiently, you shift from foot to foot while he pays up front until, finally, the two of you leave the restaurant.
“Na Jaemin,” you say sternly, stopping him from continuing to walk, “you had better explain yourself!”
Pretending to be innocent again, he smiles. “Explain? That you want to be my girlfriend?”
Instead of shying away this time, you decide that you’re going to double down. You’re about two seconds away from ditching him if he doesn’t start making sense. “I do, but-!”
“Great! Then, Y/N, do you want to be my girlfriend? Be honest, now.” Jaemin’s tone is teasing, which it feels like is his near constant state anyways, but now you’re blushing.
Part of you wants to be difficult with him just for the sake of it, but the softer, more resigned side of you wins out. Your exasperation fades and you sigh softly. “Yes. I want to be your girlfriend.”
“Now, that wasn’t hard, was it?” Indignant again, you don’t respond, eyes fixed on the ground. “That makes me your boyfriend, then. I don’t know about you, but that makes me really happy.” At that, you look up at him. Though there’s a hint of humor on his face, the smile that reaches all the way to his eyes is real. Knowing that you’re too embarrassed to respond but that you feel the exact same way, he simply squeezes your hand and pulls you along.
Six.
Na Jaemin always says good morning to you. From early on in your relationship, he always made sure to text you when he wasn’t staying over. Though you prefer to wake up to an arm slung over you and his messy morning hair, a text from him is almost as nice. Whenever you’re away from each other for too long, he calls you incessantly and, when you hadn’t minded the silence before, his slightly staticy voice over the phone fills the empty space in your life nicely. Even just hearing the telltale buzz before your phone lights up with his contact name - he never lets you change it away from “My Handsome Jaemin” with a sun emoji next to it, which he set on your phone himself - you always feel a small prick of joy.
Well, most of the time. The buzz of your phone going off is enough to wake you up today and not even the cute “good morning, love” accompanied with all varieties of heart emojis from Jaemin is enough to forgive him for waking you up at this godforsaken hour.
Y/N: Na Jaemin. It is 6 in the morning.
My Handsome Jaemin: it’s a new day!
Y/N: Why are you texting me at this time.
JM: i’m volunteering soon and i’m not allowed to be on my phone until after it’s over, but i didn’t want to miss saying good morning :( sorry for waking you up
Y/N: oh my god jaems i’m so sorry
Y/N: ily, have a good time at your volunteering
Y/N: and good morning to you too ♡
JM: ♡♡♡
JM: go back to sleep, i’ll be done by the time you’re awake ♡
You suppose you can forgive him.
Seven.
Na Jaemin has somehow wormed himself into nearly every aspect of your life. Before him, you didn’t think it was possible to be so close to a single person. Now, he’s in your head at least once a day, all seven days of the week. Rent free, spending time in your thoughts. You wouldn’t charge him for taking up that space even if you could.
Eight.
Na Jaemin didn’t wait nearly as long to ask if he could kiss you as he waited to ask you to be his girlfriend. This time, there’s no games, no teasing, just him at two o’clock in the morning in front of your dorm.
The two of you were lucky enough that the weather cooperated with your plans for a picnic by the Han River and, soon enough, time got lost. To get him to go back to campus, you have to pull him along by his hand, his reluctance clear in the way he tugs back to try to get you to stay. Much too quickly, you return, standing on the pavement outside of your dorm building with your hand in his, neither of you really making a move to go inside anymore. Hesitantly, you smile at him. “I had a nice time today. As usual.”
“As usual?” He tilts his head, sending you a smile of his own in return. The way the music of his low voice floats to your ears in the still, peaceful night prevents you from letting go of his hands.
“Believe it or not, I enjoy spending time with my boyfriend.” He grins extra brightly at that, pulling you into his arms for a tight hug so you can’t see what is practically sunlight radiating from his face in the dead of night. If he had pulled you in like that a few weeks ago, you would have been stiff and awkward but, now, you quickly melt into his embrace, your own arms wrapping around him. Reluctantly, both of you pull away and look at each other again. The air still has that lovely, magical feeling to it that makes you forget that time exists, but somewhere in the back of your head, you know that it’s about two in the morning and you should both go to sleep. Somehow, you also feel as though there are unsaid words hanging in the air between you and you can’t leave until one of you says them.
“Can I kiss you?”
It clicks in your head that those were the words you had been waiting for. Naturally, you’re smiling again, a smaller smile this time in preparation for what you want to happen, hiding how truly ecstatic you feel. “I really want you to.”
That first kiss lasts for eight seconds. It’s eight seconds of feeling more right and content and happy than you ever have in your life so, when he pulls away, you pull him back to you a quick heartbeat later, your arms rising up to sling over his neck. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way he laughs into that second kiss and returns it.
Nine.
Na Jaemin asked you to move in with him. It’s been a bit over two years now, so it was only the next natural step to both of you. One sunny Saturday afternoon, he told you about this wonderful - and affordable - apartment a short walk from campus and proposed living together. You accepted. It’s not like the two of you hadn’t talked about it before. It’s very familiar ground and you were excited that your discussions were finally producing some fruit. When you went to check out the apartment with Jaemin, you were more than pleased with how good his taste was. It’s a corner apartment, meaning lots of natural light and a bit more space than usual.
Signing the lease was easy enough. Moving in was not, especially with Jaemin getting distracted every few minutes by one thing or another. Every so often, he calls to you from another room, his voice reaching you easily in the relatively small space. “Y/N!”
Tilting your head back to look at him as he emerges from the other room, you give him a look, not backing away from the box you were unpacking things from. “What is it now, Jaemin?”
“Do you know how many windows this apartment has?”
The question is odd enough, so you shrug in response. “No, but I have a feeling you do.”
“Nine! We have nine windows.” He’s far more excited about the topic than you are and your confusion is clear on your face.
“What’s special about having nine windows?”
“I don’t know. But we have nine windows and I just think there’s something great about that number.” The incidental sweetness of his statement has your mood instantly lifting, your face brightening and relaxing when he explains. He circles you, latching onto you and hugging you from behind. His broad chest against your back is a welcome distraction this time, so you lean back into him slightly.
“You’re very strange, but I think you’re right, Jaemin.”
Ten.
Na Jaemin makes every experience an adventure. Somehow, today he had talked you into climbing a tree and, while he had descended flawlessly, you’re stuck. After all, getting up into the tree is always harder and less scary than getting down.
“Jaemin! I can’t get down…” You’re embarrassed to admit it, but you need help.
“Just jump! I’ll catch you!” You blanch at that.
“No way! I know you’ve been working out recently, but I am not jumping from here!” Truth be told, you’re only about ten feet off of the ground, but it’s ten whole feet of terror that makes the ground feel much farther away than it actually is.
“Do you want to come down or not? Just jump!” Even with Jaemin’s goading, him standing below you is not looking any more safe. What if you break your leg? Or your arm? Or your spine?
“You know what, I think I’m okay up here! I’ll live among the squirrels from now on.” You shift on the branch and it bends slightly under your weight, causing you to let out a brief shriek of fear and cling tighter to the branch. When you look down again, Jaemin’s face is far more concerned and serious than it was before.
“Y/N, you don’t have to be afraid. I promise I’ll catch you. I have one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten whole fingers attached to one, two arms to catch you with! You’ll be fine. Trust me.” He opens his arms wide, staring up at you and smiling gently. It’s those words that make your heart open and, suddenly, you feel like everything will be okay. Because you trust him.
“Okay,” you say, mostly to yourself, “okay. Are you ready?”
He nods firmly. “Whenever you are.”
As promised, he catches you in his arms and prevents you from hitting the ground and breaking your arm, leg, spine, or anything in between. After he puts you down, he leans forward, pecking you on the lips before he grins. “See? I told you that you can trust me.”
Eleven.
Na Jaemin is very stubborn sometimes. That being said, so are you.
Someway, somehow the two of you had an argument about washing the dishes. At this point, after a bit more than ten hours of not talking to each other, you’ve forgotten who started the argument. A part of you still wants to insist you’re right, but the deafening silence of your boyfriend in the other room while you’re curled on your shared bed dampens your pride. You glance at your phone, which hadn’t lit up with a notification from him for most of the day now when he would ordinarily be sending you texts filled with heart emojis and sweet words. Sighing, you set your phone upside down, trying not to look at it. A minute later, it buzzes and you quickly reach for it, the screen lighting up in your eyes, only to see that it was just a message from a friend. With that, you throw your phone back on the bed and stand up. Enough is enough. You’re going to stop being stubborn and apologize.
Except, when you open the bedroom door, Jaemin is right in front of it, his hand lifted like he was pre-knock. He lowers his hand slowly, his lips pulling up into an awkward half smile. “What, can’t go eleven hours without seeing me?” The joke falls flat, but you give him a little exhale of laughter anyways.
“No,” you say, your voice low, feeling strange in the long, silent space of the hours between you, “I wanted to apologize.”
“That’s funny, I wanted to do the same thing.” If you took yourself out of the situation, you might have found it funny, but right now all you want is the comfortable feeling between you and Jaemin back. Neither of you speak for a moment, but then your words are coming out at the same, overlapping each other in a strange sort of apologetic verbal embrace.
“I’m sorry I-”
“Y/N, I’m sorry-”
Both of you stop at the same time as well. You stare at each other before another smile, a real one this time, lights up his face again. You return the look.
“It was a stupid argument. I accept your apology.” When he usually initiates, you make the move first this time, opening your arms in a gesture that invites him to hug you. He does, his arms wrapping around you and pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Without words, he tells you that he feels the same.
Twelve.
Na Jaemin always keeps his promises.
Your advanced literature class always gets out at the same time, exactly twelve. Every Wednesday, your lovely boyfriend makes a point to meet you outside of your classroom at exactly noon to meet you for lunch. Early on, he had promised you he would meet you at the same time every week, saying, if you remember correctly, he “wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A bit dramatic for a regular lunch date, but you have always appreciated the sentiment. It’s nice to have a schedule and to be able to see him regularly.
Except, now, it’s 12:15 and your professor is still talking. He keeps droning on about his favorite part of the book your class is currently reading, which also happens to be his favorite book, and, even with you and your classmates shifting awkwardly in your seats and very obviously looking at the clock on the wall next to his desk, he keeps going. Normally, you’d be sitting in the dining hall or nearby cafe with Jaemin right now, but instead you’re just blankly staring at your professor, his words drowned out by your antsiness. Finally, ten minutes later, he returns to his desk and dismisses your class. Everyone instantly shoves their things in their backpacks and, one by one, you all quickly exit. Through the crowd of your classmates, you try to see if Jaemin is at your meeting spot. When you run up to him, apologies spilling from your lips, he presses a finger to your lips.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting for you.” The way his lips curl up into a little smile messes with your heart, causing you to blink rapidly at him.
“You’re not upset…?” You manage to get out.
“I promised you, didn’t it? I know it’s not your fault, anyways.” He reaches for your hand, taking it in his. “Plus, you’re worth waiting for.” He tugs you along, heading towards the cafe you had agreed you would go to today. Even when you’re awestruck by him and he’s pulling you along, he’s still so gentle in both touch and tone of voice. Then, he opens his mouth again and you snap out of it to laugh at him. “Though I wouldn’t mind if you bought my coffee today.”
Thirteen.
Na Jaemin has always been popular. That was one of your first observations about him and it continued to be true, even a few months into your relationship.
This year, his birthday, August 13th, falls on a Saturday. When he said he was throwing a party, you were expecting it to be on the day of his birthday, a loud, wild occasion that would inevitably get the cops called on it. To your surprise, he plans it for the day before, Friday, and you can actually count and keep track of everyone there. You expected to see him only once during the night before he mingled among everyone else, but as he gets more tipsy and edges on drunk, you find that he’s not leaving your side, his arms mostly staying wrapped around your stomach, keeping you pressed to his chest, and his chin rests on your shoulder, his flush cheek pressed to yours. Friday changes to Saturday and everyone sings to him. Cake and more drinks are passed around, the air pleasantly filled with singing and talking and the music that always plays in the background. At around two, you attempt to peel his arms off of you so you can go home, but he just holds onto you tighter, whining about how you promised you would stay the night. Even though you never said anything like that to him and you’re more than embarrassed that he just said that in front of his friends, you just sink back down against him, doing your best to hide your warm face.
It’s only a short while before sunrise that the last of his friends finally leave. You barely manage to convince him to brush his teeth and wash his face before he’s dragging you into his bed with him, his grip around you unrelenting. This certainly isn’t the first time that you’ve slept in his bed with him, but you’re still a bit shy about it. Luckily enough, your shyness is overcome by your exhaustion and you quickly drift off.
You barely manage to convince him to let you get out of bed after the two of you finally wake up in the early afternoon and it’s another miracle that you get him to let you go home to change and get your gift for him. While he was initially planning his celebration, he made you promise to leave your Saturday open for him. You agreed, adding that you would only do it if he let you pay for dinner.
After you return and eat with him, giving him the gift of the new camera lens he had been wanting for months, you stop him before he can drag you back to his bed to watch a movie and cuddle.
“One more thing.” Shyly, you reach into the bag you had brought back from your apartment, pulling out a small chocolate cake, barely larger than your hand, and a single long candle. “I know you just had cake yesterday, but I got this from the bakery next to campus that you like and...”
The happy look on his face lights up your whole world and has you trailing off. With just one look, you can tell exactly how he’s feeling and that everything is okay, that you don’t need to make excuses. You can’t hold eye contact with him for long, your eyes flitting down to investigate the table instead of looking at him. You can feel your face warming and butterflies tickling the inside of your stomach with their wings. It’s an intense but welcome feeling. Quickly, you busy yourself with getting out the small lighter you brought - you came prepared - and sticking the candle in the cake, lighting it. A step forward and the light in the room is off, a step backwards and you’re back in your chair. The room is shrouded in darkness save for the tiny flickering fire casting a yellow-orange glow on your faces.
“Happy birthday, Jaemin.” Your voice barely makes a sound in the small room, but it adds to the warm atmosphere nonetheless. For a moment, he just stares at the candle, deep in thought. You can feel the seconds ticking by slowly, drops of wax sliding down the length of the candle, threatening to fall onto the cake but stopping just short. Then, he looks up at you.
“I’ll only blow it out if you do it with me.” Another one of his strange requests. He must know that you want to refuse him, but the rapidly melting wax of the candle prevents you from giving him the reasons why you shouldn’t do what he asked. He also gives you no time to argue as he leans forward, counting down. “One,” a slow blink, “two,” a small smile when you bend forward slightly as well, “three.” Both of you blow gently, the small flame flickering out.
You rise from your chair again, flicking on the lights. He’s giving you a strange look again, but one that you can still tell is happy. “I feel like I just ruined your birthday wish by doing that,” you laugh quietly, sitting back down.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his palm. “You can’t ruin my wish if you are my wish.” The butterflies and warmth return, not that they ever really left, but you keep looking at him this time. Before you can muster up some sort of response, he adds on another comment much more softly. “And I’m not afraid of losing you by saying that.”
Fourteen.
Na Jaemin always manages to take advantage of every good opportunity that he’s given, even if that means taking you along with him.
“My pretty Y/N,” he practically purrs in your ear, his arms encircling your waist as he hugs you from behind while you're doing work for class, “will you help me with something?”
You can already tell from his tone of voice that he means to cause trouble. You just don’t know if it’s the good kind or the bad kind yet. Laying your pencil down, you turn your head slightly and smile at him. “What are you trying to charm me into doing now?”
“Have you been outside recently?”
“Of course I have. Why…?”
“Take a break and take pictures with the flowers with me.” He’s absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shirt as he speaks. You know he’s persistent and won’t leave you alone unless you go with him. It also wouldn’t hurt to take a couple of pretty pictures. You should really be used to these impromptu photoshoots by now, anyway.
“Only if it doesn’t take that long…” He hears the hesitance in your voice and takes it as a yes, springing up to race to the other side of the room.
“Great! They’re cherry trees, so the flowers won’t last much longer than a few days, and all fourteen of them are in bloom right now!” He returns to you with his camera hanging around his neck.
“You counted the trees outside?” You follow him to the door of your apartment, slipping on some shoes at the same time he does.
“I had to do an ecological survey for my biology class earlier this semester. Just happened to remember.” It’s not a farfetched idea. It’s also very characteristic of him to remember that. As soon as you’re outside, stepping into the sunlight and squinting from how bright it is, you look back at him. He’s making a face, a sort of smirk, and you sigh.
“You’re about to say something embarrassing, I can tell.”
“I’m not! Look,” he says, turning you by the shoulders to face the blooming trees lining the sidewalk, “do you see them?”
Your eyes adjusted a moment before, so you nod slowly. “Mhm…”
“You’re prettier than any of them.” That’s all he says before he pecks on you on the cheek, taking you by the hand and guiding you farther down the row of trees. Even now, you can’t help but blush furiously at his comments. You would ask why he always says things like that, but you know the answer by now. It takes him only a moment to find the ideal tree, where he turns back to you again, observing your face. He grins. “You look even prettier when you’re flustered like that.”
Fifteen.
Na Jaemin, despite how he seems to brush things off most of the time, is more sensitive than he lets on.
One night, Jaemin invited you to go to a party with him. You had been dating him for more than a year, so it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to show up to every other social gathering with the other on their arm. The event is a typical frat party - loud and full of both alcohol and hormones. Jaemin had been invited by his older friend Lucas and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go. Except, at the time you agreed, you didn’t have the headache that slowly developed over the day. Still, you go. The music is too loud, the smell of alcohol makes you nauseous, and everyone is so sweaty. One girl even has the audacity to try to drag Jaemin away for a dance. He hadn’t had the same aversions to the environment that you did but, even in his inebriated state after the multiple drinks his friends had put in his hands and he had downed, he has enough sense to push her gently away from him, refusing her advances. She leaves, moping over his rejection, and you let him pull you in to dance clumsily before everything about the party becomes too much. His attempt at getting you to enjoy yourself isn’t missed - you know he’s trying his best - but you simply don’t feel well. With a reluctant smile, you tug him over to a group of his friends that you recognize.
“I’m going to go home. Stay here and have fun with your friends, okay?” He bobs his head up and down in a drunken nod of agreement before leaning down to sloppily kiss you. Normally, you love his kisses in any form, but the smell of alcohol on his breath and the taste of it on his lips has you pulling away from the kiss quickly, patting his cheek as you try to not let your headache break your patience with your intoxicated boyfriend.
Getting out of the party is a relief, the short walk back to your apartment is a relief, and finally lying down in your bed with pajamas and a clean face and mouth is definitely a relief. Sleep comes upon you quickly enough that you forget to text your very sweet and very drunk boyfriend to tell you when he gets home.
Waking up refreshed and headache-free twelve hours later is certainly a feeling you could relish in for a long time. Except, when you check your phone and see the fifteen missed calls and twenty texts from Jaemin on your phone, your relaxation instantly fades. Every message shows his building worry, sent about an hour before you woke up, and vague enough that you don’t know why he’s panicking. As soon as you read the last message, you call him back. He picks up nearly instantly, cutting you off as you try to greet him.
“Jaem-”
“Y/N! You finally answered!” Though you’ve known him for a substantial amount of time by now, you’ve never heard him sound this distressed. It makes panic slowly bubble up in you in return. Before you can try to get any answers, he continues. “I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t break up with me.”
If you didn’t know him well by now, you would have jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Instead, you try to calm yourself and him down. “Jaemin, what are you talking about? Why would I be mad at you?”
“For letting you go home alone. For staying at the party. Because that girl tried to dance with me. Because I’m a terrible boyfriend. Because-”
With each thing he lists, you get more confused. One thing you’re certain of, however, is that Jaemin is the opposite of a bad boyfriend. You cut him off. “Jaemin, stop. I went home because I wasn’t feeling well and I told you to stay because I wanted you to have fun. You sent that girl away, so why does she even matter? You’re not a terrible boyfriend. I have no clue where you got that idea from.”
There’s a couple seconds of just his shaky breathing over the phone before he croaks out a quiet, “What?”
“I’m not mad at you. And I wasn’t ignoring you either. I was asleep until ten minutes ago.” You’re not used to hearing Jaemin like this, but that doesn’t mean the right words are hard to find. In fact, they’re just on the tip of your tongue, tumbling out seamlessly. “I love you a lot, Jaemin. I wouldn’t play those sorts of passive aggressive games with you. I also have no intentions of breaking up with you.”
“I love you, too.” His voice seems more even, like he’s taken control of himself again. You know he’s had some bad experiences with ex-girlfriends, so you’re certain these worries came from them. You’ll have to talk to him about that sometime. “Can you… can you come over?”
The vulnerability in his voice makes your heart bleed for him, this boy you’ve unwittingly given your heart to over the last year. When he’s only been perfect to you, you want to return the favor. “Of course,” you say, your voice soothing even over the staticy phone line, “I’ll be over soon. I’ll be there whenever you need me.”
Sixteen.
Na Jaemin is unbothered by the fact that anyone could be watching when he does embarrassing things. Over time, his behavior has become so normal to you that you don’t even notice sometimes.
You had been out of the apartment all day, working on a group project in the university library, and it’s just before eight at night when you’re returning. You shoot your lovely boyfriend a text asking him to open the door for you because you have your hands full with the takeout you brought back for the both of you and, unsurprisingly, you’re greeted by a hug and smattering of kisses pressed to your face.
“You were gone so long, I missed you,” he whines, hugging you in a way that has you dangerously close to dropping either the bag of takeout you have in one hand or the bag of supplies for your project that you have in the other.
“Jaems, you’re not a puppy, you can stand to not see me for a few hours.” Though the words sound reprimanding, there’s an undeniable sweet fondness in your voice that tells him that you missed him too. He abandons your cheeks and forehead and nose to kiss you directly on the lips a moment later, the feeling of his mouth against yours showing that he’s smiling more than he’s kissing. For a moment, you forget about the bags in your hands and focus on the warmth of his body against yours, melting against him with a contented hum. You would have been happy to lose yourself in the moment entirely, were it not for the comment being directed at you from just down the hall.
“Gross.” Somehow, both of you had missed the fact that your sixteen-year-old neighbor had opened the door of the apartment next to yours and is grimacing at your public display of affection. It’s not the first time he’s seen the two of you doing lovey-dovey things in front of your apartment instead of inside of it, but what he usually witnessed consisted of short pecks on the cheek and hand holding, not full blown romantic kisses. You might have laughed at the scene if you weren’t thoroughly embarrassed, taking a step back from Jaemin. As your boyfriend takes the bag of food out of your hand, giving you a sly smile, your neighbor walks by, muttering at you two as he does so. “You live right there and you have to do that in the hall?”
“Don’t worry, kid, your time will come!” Jaemin responds cheerily, making you sigh softly and jokingly hit him on the arm.
“He’s right, you know!” You say, shouldering past your boyfriend to get into the apartment. “We could have moved about two steps and not subjected him to that.”
“You know my love can’t wait!” After the door shuts behind him and he sets down the food, he wrangles you into the same position you were in outside, pressing another kiss to your pouting lips. “And I know you like it.”
Seventeen.
Na Jaemin always chooses the worst movies. Okay, not really. He usually chooses really good movies. They’re only the worst because he has seen you cry at an inordinate number of them. Whether it be from fear at the various jumpscares in his favorite genre of horror or a movie about heartbreak in any of its forms, your tear ducts never cooperate with you when you tell them that you’re not going to cry.
Tonight is no different. Somehow, the two of you had settled on watching The Hunger Games and you know for sure that you’re going to cry at this one. And cry you do. During one particularly sad part, you’re trying your best to cry softly, but Jaemin can feel you shaking against his side, where you’re cuddled up against him. All he has to do is turn his head slightly to see the tears sliding down your face. He frowns, reaching out to rub at the tear tracks on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Are you still crying? That scene has been over for like five minutes now.”
You shake your head, trying to stop the crying. “I can’t help it, it’s just so sad.”
He’s stopped watching the movie now, too busy staring into your tear-filled eyes. “Do you only cry when you’re watching movies? I swear I’ve seen you cry at like seventeen different movies but never about any of your own problems.”
To you, hearing him say that is relatively expected. You’ve been dating him for just under three quarters of a year now. “Unsurprising,” you sniffle, resting at the urge to reach up and rub at your own eyes because you enjoy the feeling of his warm hands on your face, “I don’t cry in front of other people a lot.”
“Do you cry a lot? By yourself?” His voice is soft and has a heart-wrenching hint of sadness to it. You can’t exactly read him like a book yet, but you know that he probably feels like he’s failed as a boyfriend somehow. Carefully, you reach up to rest your hand over his.
“Not really…” It’s not a lie, but that look on Jaemin’s face is still there. The one that says your guess about how he’s feeling is right.
“You can cry around me, you know. I’ll take all your sadness away.” His profession is so sincere, so sweet that it almost makes you start crying again. You know that he truly means it, too.
“Jaemin…” The look has turned into something slightly more hopeful, pleading for you to let him in. “Okay. I’ll try.” Try? Neither of you know exactly what you’re going to try to do, yet it’s still enough for both of you. After that, he seems to snap back to his normal self, pressing little kisses all over your face and dragging you into his lap. Even so, it’s clear that neither forget the words you exchanged.
Eighteen.
Na Jaemin has always made more than enough time for you. Though there’s always a new school, family, or friend event to attend, he rejects about a quarter of them for quiet stay-at-home dates with you. As often as possible, he tries to bring you with him and you try to bring him with you to any of your own events. Sometimes, though, he has to go alone.
You’ll admit that, in the last few weeks, you’ve gotten far too used to your boyfriend being at home. This time, he has some sort of family event back in his hometown and, though he invited you to join him, you can’t because of a huge test you have on Monday. However, your shared apartment feels far too quiet without him. Throughout the day, you catch yourself when you’re about to call out to him to ask him a question or simply for a distraction. You distract yourself enough during dinner by going out for a friend, but then you’re back in your apartment by ten at night. To your disappointment, Jaemin has already sent you a goodnight text, saying that he wishes he could talk but he has to wake up early. After sending him a goodnight text back, you resign yourself to idly watching some Netflix show that you don’t remember very much of.
That night, you toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. The space where Jaemin normally sleeps feels too cold. Somewhere in your restlessness, you start to feel somewhat embarrassed. You’re really this dependent on your boyfriend? Still... it’s just so strange not having him here.
The comfort of the thought that he’s sleeping soundly in his bed in his hometown is enough for you to stop messing up your sheets with your movement and try to settle down. You know he would be telling you to fall asleep quickly so you can keep studying for your test, the entire reason you’re still here in the first place. Even with your head resting on his pillow on his side of the bed, his familiar scent wrapped around you as much it can be, you still count three sets of one hundred sheep before you even feel tired. The last number you remember is three hundred and eighteen.
Nineteen.
Na Jaemin has quite the memory for specifics when it comes to you. Whether it be the type of bagel you like to eat in the morning or the date of your mother’s birthday, he’s always remembering things about you. It’s quite sweet and is just another reminder of how important you are to him. You struggle a bit more with some of those things, but every detail you bring up that you remember about him has him glowing.
“Can you believe we met when we were teenagers?” Jaemin says it out of nowhere one day when both of you are lounging around your apartment.
You hum in response, looking away from your book and tapping your chin. “Hm, I guess you’re right. Nineteen feels like a long time ago, though.”
“You’re talking like we’re old. I don’t know about you, but I'm still young as a spring chicken.”
You can’t help laughing at that. “You want me to believe you’re not old when you use that expression?”
He turns his nose up at you, refusing to smile when you nudge him in the side. “Words are timeless, thank you very much.”
“Mhm, okay. Maybe you’ve just been a vampire this entire time and you’re actually two hundred years old, trying to trick me.”
He sits up, mustering up a look of pure innocence. “Me? A vampire? Trick you? Whatever would make you think that?”
“Well, you’re too handsome to be any normal human.” You’re almost proud of how you set that one up when his face lights up.
“What does that make you, then? An angel?” Though you don’t blush as easily as you used to, it’s still hard to simply swallow all of the flattery he throws at you, even if it’s a taste of your own medicine this time. Still, you attempt to continue the banter.
“You’ve corrupted this angel, then, Mr. Vampire.”
He pouts. “Corrupted you? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pauses for a moment, then gives you a sly smile. “I suppose you have learned how to flirt better because of me.”
“Well, I had to get used to it somehow. Then again, it could just be natural talent.” Before he can laugh because you both know that’s not true, you swoop in, pressing a kiss to his lips. He relishes in the feeling for a moment, then proceeds to drag you onto his lap. As inconsequential as that memory may be, you’ll always remember the way your apartment filled with sunlight and laughter that day.
Twenty.
Na Jaemin, in all of his obviousness, can also be quite sneaky.
You learned this well in just the first few weeks you were dating, but even now, a year later, you still find it to be almost out of character for him. He’s strange in the way that he is simultaneously the most subtle and the least subtle person you know.
When you receive the text ‘Are you okay?’ from him one night while you’re sitting in your own apartment, face pressed into your pillow while you play sad songs and mope over the particularly frustrating homework that you left scattered on your desk, you’re slightly suspicious. Does he just have a strange sixth sense for you being upset? Still, you muster up the energy to stop moping and respond to him. Before you can finish typing a drab ‘I’m fine’ to him, you receive a second message from him.
JM: Are you okay?
JM: You don’t have to lie
After a moment of thought, you erase your message and start typing a new one.
Y/N: Not really… this assignment is killing me and ngl I spent the last twenty minutes crying
JM: oh baby
JM: you know that i believe in you more than anyone, right? if anyone can do it, you can!
Y/N: you really don’t know how much that means to me, Jaems :((
JM: check your spotify real quick :)
You’re confused, but you do as he says. You scroll through it for a moment before a new playlist catches your eye. The playlist’s title is simply a sun emoji and it says that you created it. You don’t remember the playlist at all, though. When you scroll through it, you nearly tear up again. All twenty of the songs in the playlist are your absolute favorites, ones that make you happy no matter what. Jaemin had to have made this playlist, right? Your suspicions are only confirmed when, after you start playing the first song, he sends you a sun emoji.
JM: you logged onto your account on my phone last week
JM: i know you only listen to sad songs when you’re upset, so put on that playlist whenever you don’t want to talk about whatever’s bothering you and you need a pick-me-up, okay?
You call him right after that, tears of happiness at how caring, how sweet, how perfect he is slipping down your face this time. At some point, time escapes you, so when you glance at the clock on your phone, you’re shocked to see that an hour has passed. With a promise to call him again after you’re done with your assignment, you hang up. Except, the first thing you do after you hang up isn’t to start working again. Instead, you edit his contact in your phone to have a little sun emoji in his name.
Twenty-one.
Na Jaemin has never minded you borrowing his clothes to wear.
Last night was one of those nights that you stayed over at his apartment - not an uncommon occurrence - so you’re digging through his closet, attempting to find something suitable to wear after you use his shower. As you’re pawing through his closet, your fingers wrap around a particularly comfy looking hoodie when you see a gem of his past hidden behind it. Abandoning the hoodie, you pull out an old jersey, his last name and the number twenty-one stamped on the back. “Nana, tell me about this. You played basketball?”
He looks up from his bed, where he’s lounging about, scrolling on his phone. The sight of the athleticwear draws a fond smile onto his face. “I played in high school for a bit! Jeno pushed me to try out one year and I actually did well enough that I got on the team.” He gets up and takes the shirt from your hands. “Ah, this brings back memories. This is how I got my lucky number, you know.”
You make a little noise of recognition in response. The sight of him gazing at the jersey with a warm, nostalgic look in his eyes makes you smile. “I’m glad I got to see it, but why did you bring it to school?”
“Thought I could wear it as a Halloween costume or something one year. Or didn’t have the heart to leave it home, maybe.” You understand the feeling. You couldn’t leave one or two of your own high school shirts at home. Realizing how strange the comment has made the atmosphere, he stops gazing at the item in his hands, giving you a mischievous look instead. “You know, basketball player isn’t that bad of an idea for a Halloween costume, but we should do a couple costume. If I’m a basketball player, you get to be a sexy cheerleader.”
That sudden comment makes you snort. “In your dreams. I’ll be a cheerleader who wears a hoodie and sweatpants to perform.”
Though the conversation devolves into both of you playfully pushing each other with words and physical touches, it’s those small moments where you get a look at a different side of Jaemin that always stand out to you.
Twenty-two.
Na Jaemin does a really good job at convincing you to make bad decisions sometimes. This week’s bad decision is a twenty-four hour movie marathon that he insisted on having once he learned that you’d never pulled an all nighter. The first movie was his pick, then the second was yours, and then his again before you both agreed to put on the entire Lord of the Rings series.
Once the sun has long left the sky, the day starts taking a toll on you and, whenever you start to feel your eyes drooping, Jaemin prods you, telling you to not be lame and to stay awake, except one glance at him tells you that he’s also feeling the exhaustion. Even the abhorrent number of espresso shots he puts into his coffee can’t keep him awake forever, especially since you had convinced him that it was cheating to have anything too caffeinated after a certain time of the evening. You had started at nine in the morning the day before and the sun is now peaking through the blinds of Jaemin’s apartment.
“Only,” Jaemin says, glancing at the time on his phone, “two hours to go…”
His body is far too warm and the blanket you’re snuggled under is far too soft for you to be able to last much longer, you’re sure. You also know that it would invigorate you if you got up, walked around, maybe drank some water, but a part of you doesn’t want to succeed at your twenty-four hour movie marathon.
The little bit of extra warmth that lands on you from the sun is enough to lull you to sleep. As you nod off at around seven, twenty-two hours after you started, you’re too tired to notice that Jaemin had already fallen asleep, his nose pressed into your hair and his arm around your waist.
Twenty-three.
Na Jaemin has slowly divulged his secrets to you.
No ticklish person willingly gives up the information that they’re ticklish - you have to discover it on your own. You had your suspicions that he’s weak to being tickled when you first snuck up on him while he was wearing earbuds one day. You had surprised him with a hug from behind, like he so frequently does to you, and he instinctively responded to your fingertips grazing him side by squirming. He twisted in your arms, turning around to face you, his eyebrows raising in surprise before he broke out into a bright smile. When he had embraced you and popped out his earbuds, engaging you in a conversation and cooing about how happy he was to see you, you nearly forgot about his strange reaction to your touch.
You decide to run a little test. When you’re eating dinner with him at his apartment later that night, you reach over at one point and prod at his side with your fingers. His reaction is more than you expected - he practically doubles over, twisting away from you and swatting at your hand. Once you pull your hand away, smirking at your discovery, he recovers from being tickled and gives you a look of betrayal. Before he can complain, you speak. “We’ve been together for more than a year now and you didn’t tell me you’re ticklish?”
“I’m not!” That denial is the first thing out of his mouth, but when you make a motion with your hand that threatens to tickle him again, he raises both of his hands in defense. “Okay! I may have a slight weakness to being tickled...”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jaemin. Completely normal.” He just shrugs, but seems to be more relaxed. “Will you trust me for a moment?”
“I always trust you, I-” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, you swing a leg over his, straddling him with your phone in hand. “Whoa,” he says, his hands instinctively going to your hips, “I didn’t know you were feeling frisky tonight.”
“Don’t be gross.” You stick your tongue out at him.
“Me, being gross? You’re the one who just hopped onto my lap like-”
“Just tell me when it gets to be too much, okay?” You open the timer app on the device in your hand.
His eyes widen. “Wait, what-” He is interrupted as you press start on your timer and start tickling him furiously. The air of his apartment fills with his tortured laughter. He squirms uncomfortably under you, making it hard to keep your balance atop his legs. Finally, in a feat of incredible focus, he grabs onto both of your hands, holding them down on top of your own lap. A glance at your phone screen tells you that he lasted twenty-three seconds of your tickling. He’s red in the face, an uncommon sight for you, and he’s breathing heavily, a disappointed pout on his face. “You could have warned me! What if I just did that to you out of nowhere?”
“I’m not ticklish,” you say triumphantly, smirking at him, “and you pull any number of surprises on me all the time.”
“You’re so weird. It looks like I’ll just have to “surprise” you more often to make up for this, then,” he grumbles, releasing your hands to make air quotes in his sentence. Feeling a bit guilty, you lean forward slightly, kissing him on the tip of his nose.
“I look forward to it.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, pretending like he doesn’t think what you’re saying is unbearably cute. “I hate you.”
“Well, I love you. Forgive me?”
You get your answer when you lean forward to kiss him on the cheek, but he simply captures your lips with his own instead.
Twenty-four.
Na Jaemin overworks himself far too much for your liking. That’s probably why he has a cold right now and is too miserable to get out of bed. When he finally admitted to being sick, you opted to visit and take care of him without even thinking too much about it. You never mind helping him out - he is your boyfriend, after all - but it certainly does not feel good to see someone you care about be in so much pain.
You let yourself into his apartment with the spare key he gave you, ingredients for some soup in hand, and all you can see is darkness. His blinds are drawn, so you feel around for the lightswitch, flicking it on. Everything inside is disturbingly untouched, telling you that he really hasn’t gotten out of bed today. Sliding off your shoes and depositing your food in the kitchen, you make your way to his bedroom, knocking lightly. You’re met with a groan, so you let yourself in. All that you can see of your boyfriend is a lump of blankets. You would laugh at the sight if this wasn’t the most ill you’ve ever seen him. “Jaemin,” you coo, padding towards his bed and putting a hand on what you think is his shoulder, “I’m here.”
His head pops out from under the blankets. He’s sweaty, some of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and you can practically feel the warmth radiating off of him, but the very characteristic pout on his lips makes you believe that he might not be dying just yet. A moment later, he’s ducking back under the covers, hiding his face. “No,” he whines, drawing out the sound, “you can’t look at me. I’m not handsome right now.”
You have to stifle a laugh at that. “Honey, you’re always handsome. Have you eaten anything yet?”
He peeks out so that only the parts of his face above his nose are visible. “I don’t want to get up.” The sound comes out muffled, but you manage to decipher it.
“Lucky for you that I’m here so that I can bring it to you.”
Through the day, you feed him bit by bit and force him to drink water and tea, banning coffee because he doesn’t need that sort of caffeination in his system. You even coax him into taking a bath in the evening, where he nearly disrobes in front of you in his sick haze. As he’s doing that, you have some time to think and you discover that, though you would rather your boyfriend not suffer and be back in good health, you don’t mind him relying on you for once. Jaemin has always been there for you, supporting you with his entire heart and taking the lead whenever you couldn’t, and now it feels like you’re paying him back in at least some small way.
When he returns to his room, clothed this time, you take your time drying his hair for him. You’re about to stand and wish him goodnight, but he takes ahold of your hand as you do so, tugging on it. This is a familiar situation - there have been many times where Jaemin has stopped you from going home at night and made you stay with him. Except, usually, he would just pull you into bed with him, using his strength advantage. Now, the tug on your hand is small, weak, and your heart hurts at the expression he’s making. He’s pleading with his eyes as best as he can. “Please stay.”
“But,” you start, already feeling the weakness of the excuse, “you’re sick and I’ll just take up too much space in your bed and…” You sigh. “I’ll stay.” Luckily enough, you wore comfy clothes to his apartment. It’s warm under his blankets and his skin isn’t blazing anymore like it was earlier in the day. He’s facing you, blinking at you with half-lidded eyes. Slowly, his hand slides up, running through your hair before it drops down to find your hand. “Are you gonna sleep now?” You whisper, seeing his eyes droop even more.
“Mhm,” he hums in response, thumb idly rubbing over the top of your hand. A minute later, he’s stilled almost completely. After not much longer, you follow him into dreamland.
When you awaken, it’s because sunlight is burning through your eyelids. With a quiet groan, you realize that you forgot to close the blinds of his room last night after you had forced him to let some light in during the day. Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Jaemin smiling at you, sleep still heavy on his face. “Good morning, beautiful.”
His voice is gravely, but doesn’t have the depressing weariness to it that it did yesterday. With a smile of your own, you murmur back to him. “Good morning to you, too. I only get one day off from your shameless flirting?”
“Shameless? You want me to have shame for flirting with my lovely, amazing, caring, talented-”
“You’re doing it again-”
“-girlfriend who took care of me when I was feeling my worst?” With that, you purse your lips, looking away from him. He proceeds to smother you in cuddles, pulling you against him and practically wrapping his entire body around yours.
“Na Jaemin, you’re still sick!” You try to say, but it comes out as a series of muffled sounds and he ignores you, continuing to cuddle you furiously. He pulls away briefly just to pepper you with kisses.
“I‘m only sick of how you’re not returning my love,” he says half in the middle of peck on your cheek.
“If I didn’t return your love, would I have stayed here for the last twenty-four hours taking care of you?” He stops just short of kissing you directly on the lips, pulling back to give you a look of shock.
“We spent our first full day together and I was completely out of it the whole time?” You’re about to open your mouth to scold him for trying to make you feel bad about taking care of him, but he breaks into a familiar mischievous smile. “Looks like you’ll have to spend all of today here to make for it.” When he sees that you’re about to protest, he continues. “Or all of today and tomorrow.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, holding back the grin threatening to spread on your face, too. “It seems like someone is feeling better. It’s like you don’t even need me to stay here and take care of you.”
He falls back onto the bed instantly, throwing an arm over his forehead and feigning illness. “Oh no, it’s so much worse than before. I can’t get out of bed.”
You spend the next few minutes trying to wrestle him out of the comfort of his blankets, only to find that, in all truthfulness, he is still a bit weak when it comes to walking and any other form of exertion. That night, he forces you to stay over once again and, honestly, you’re not sure you were ever opposed to the idea at all.
Twenty-five.
Na Jaemin does not make a point of crying in front of you. He also doesn’t make a point of showing you when he’s really, truly upset, either, for the most part. He scolded you before about keeping your tears to yourself, that he’s always there with an open shoulder should you ever need to cry, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him cry on one hand. For someone so warm and radiant, he’s miraculously closed off. He never shies away from showing love and it’s a constant tug-of-war between the two of you over who loves who the most, as he won’t accept your care in return half the time.
It’s about a week before finals and you’ve deemed that you completed a satisfactory amount of studying for the evening. Somehow, Jaemin hasn’t joined you in your shared bedroom yet, so you step out to check on him, stretching your arms above your head and yawning. A quick glance at your phone tells you that the date has already changed from twenty-four to twenty-five, meaning that it’s past midnight. When you emerge into the kitchen, you see Jaemin’s figure hunched over the table, his forehead resting on the trackpad of his laptop. Well, that’s concerning. He doesn’t lift his head as you approach, simply staring down at the floor from his strange position. “Jaemin?” You question, reaching forward to prod his shoulder. He just groans quietly as you do so. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” he mumbles, speaking towards the floor, “you should go to bed.” Despite his reassurances, a genuineness is missing from his voice and he still isn’t looking at you. Sighing quietly to yourself, you get on the ground, squeezing between some chairs to get under the table so you can look him in the eyes. Surprise lights his eyes up slightly as you grab his hand and tug on it gently.
“I’m not going to bed,” you say gently, the familiar warmth of your hands feeling soothing on his skin, “until you tell me what’s wrong and how I can help.”
It’s his turn to sigh. Still, he relents. “There’s nothing you can do to help. The paper I’ve been working on for the last six hours just closed randomly and I lost four pages of work.”
“That’s still fixable! Not a lost cause.”
“It’s due in the morning.”
“Oh.” You frown for a moment before letting out a quiet hum. “Hm, think of it this way. You’ve already written the paper, so now you just have to remember it, and maybe use this chance to make it even better than it was before! And the sooner you finish it, the sooner you’ll be done, if that makes sense.” Though his forehead is still pressed against the table, he nods to the best of his ability.
“I guess you’re right…”
“I’ll even make coffee for you if you want.”
He laughs quietly, only half of what a normal laugh would be from him. “You hate when I drink coffee.”
“I don’t hate it,” you say, pouting, “I’m okay with it when it helps you. And because you like it.” At that, he smiles slightly, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.
“It’s okay, I don’t need coffee right now anyways. All I need is for you to come here so I can kiss you.” Encouraged by the fact that he seems in slightly better spirits now, you get too excited and try to lean forward from your position under the table, only succeeding on banging your head on the edge of the wood. You pull back with a groan, ignoring the full laughs now coming out of your boyfriend. As he tries to calm his laughter down, he pushes back his chair and slides to the ground, joining you on the floor. He moves the hand you have cupped over the bump forming on your scalp, his lips pressing over the spot instead. Before you can remark on him laughing on you, his leans forward, kissing you fully on the lips. You sit on the floor with him, the light from your apartment bleeding out into the dark night outside the window, letting him find comfort in your lips against his and your hands intertwined.
When he pulls away, the words leave your lips so easily. “I love you.” It’s barely a whisper, but that’s okay. That’s okay because he’s the only one who needs to hear it. He’s usually the one who says it first, always saying it so easily, but, this time, the words leave your mouth as smoothly as they usually leave his. He only lets the surprise show on his face for a moment before he’s grinning and then kissing you one more time.
“I love you, too.”
Both of you know that you shouldn’t spend much longer just kissing and exchanging confessions on the floor, but you take just a few more minutes to do so anyways. Finally, the two of you get up - more carefully this time - and he doesn’t complain as you drag a chair over and sit next to him as he wakes his laptop back up to work on his paper. He especially doesn’t complain when you drift off about two hours later and your head droops onto his shoulder.
“What’re you doing?”
Jaemin’s arms are suddenly around you from behind, bumping your arm and making your pen skitter slightly over the page, disrupting your sentence.
Closing your eyes for a moment, you sigh and don’t respond to the kiss he presses to your cheek before you turn towards him. He slides into the chair next to you and rests his elbow on the desk, his chin in his hand. “Na Jaemin, do you see what you just made me do?”
“I would be sorry, but you’ve been cooped up in here for like four hours now and you haven’t said a single word to me. I know you’re not doing homework, so…” He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question. He glances down at your notes and you quickly move to cover them with your arms.
“I’m making a memory journal! You can’t look until I get all of them down.” He moves his head, trying to see under your arms, so you quickly snap the notebook shut, hiding the words inside.
“So secretive,” he grumbles, eyeing the closed notebook, “how many do you have so far?”
“Twenty five.”
“You really have that many? Color me impressed.”
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at that. “I’m trying to get to one hundred, one memory for each number.”
His eyes widen. “You’ll really have one for every number?”
“I mean… it’s not always easy to think of one… I-” As you’re speaking, he suddenly lunges forward, pulling the notebook away from you and flying away from his seat when you try to grab it back from him. “Na Jaemin!”
He ignores you, attempting to open your notebook and read what you have written, but you pursue him, forcing him to dodge you repeatedly. When you try to circle him, he simply raises the item above his head, avoiding your tries at snatching it back. Then, he tosses it onto your bed. Your eyes swing back and forth between him and the item before you go for it. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s suddenly tossing you onto the bed on your stomach as well. You shriek his name when he picks the notebook back up before you can and lies on top of you, weighing you down with his body. For a moment, you’re squirming under him, trying to smack at him, but you find that your leverage is too poor, so you just lie prone underneath him while he flips the notebook open and his eyes flit quickly over the words. “Jaemin,” you whine, “seriously.”
He ignores you, but you watch as his face shifts, his lips parting in some sort of happy surprise and eyebrows lifting. “Is this how you remember it?”
“Yeah,” you huff, his weight putting uncomfortable pressure on your lungs, “is there something wrong with it?”
“Nothing is wrong with it,” he says, eyes still moving over the page, “you’re just so... cute. Like, even more than usual.”
“If you think it’s that cute, you can get off of me so I can keep working.” You wiggle a little underneath him again.
“You should take a break,” he declares, getting off of you quickly and snapping the book shut. He reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you up.
“You just want me to amuse you.”
“No,” he says, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout, “I miss my girlfriend and I want to spend time making more memories with her.” He leans forward, his lips by your ear. Your hair stirs as his breath disturbs some of it. “In case you didn’t know, that’s you.”
He starts to tug you along, away from your bed and the incomplete notebook that is now resting on the blankets. “Wait, I didn’t even get to write about when you made me go cliff diving, or how your heart rate speeds up whenever we’re together, or-”
“Y/N.” He turns to you, still holding your hand. “It’ll help to go make more memories now. You’ll get to one hundred eventually. Let’s go.”
As he’s tugging you out of your apartment a minute later, the number placard on the front of your unit reflects back some of the hallway light. You make a note to yourself.
Twenty six. The apartment number where you live with the love of your life, where you sit and write the story of how you met, and where he can take you away to go on even more adventures.
how do you think 99-00 line would react to them feeling jealous? I personally shut off when I feel jealous be I feel stupid
yukhei: he would be confused what he was feeling, but then start making jokes and trying to take your attention away from whoever was keeping you away from him.
mark: he wouldn’t know what to do lmao. he would internally freak out, but do the most subtle things in catching your attention. like holding your hand or making you sit next to him. he would feel an intense amount of jealousy i feel like but have a hard time expressing it.
xiaojun: he would be really silent at first. you would probably have to pry it out of him on why he wasn’t talking as much. but once you do, everything would make sense and you would have to reassure him.
hendery: extra fucker would immediately take action and drag you into his lap. he would be fuming with jealousy, and he might even go as far as giving you a few kisses here and there. he wanted everyone to know just who you actually belonged to.
renjun: probably the one to shut off. he was just too afraid of being over dramatic and didn’t want to worry you. but sooner or later he wouldn’t be able to handle it and go straight to you. would softly ask you to sit by him and stay by his side.
jeno: possessive. it was apparent jeno was jealous, and he wasn’t too afraid to show it. he would probably even admit to being jealous, wanting you to stick by his side. he couldn’t have it in him to share you, whispering how much you belonged to him.
hyuck: pouty, does anything to get your attention. he was NOT afraid to beg for it, too. he was jealous, and he was not liking it. so he pouted and practically hung all around you, smothering you so you knew he was there. he loved you, he just wanted you to himself.
jaemin: smiley, but internally dying inside. might pull a serious face if it turns to be too much. would whisper in your ear and hold you closely to him. he didn’t like the thought of someone else possibly stealing you away from him. you were his baby.
yangyang: a bit confused at first, but then kicks in and tugs on you and makes you pay attention to him. he wasn’t sure how to really act, but he tried his best not to show that he was jealous. but you would notice anyway, and have to comfort him a bit.
[10:04 PM] Bestfriend!Jaemin chuckled in amusement, his bright smile unlikely to cease. You had been ranting for about half an hour about another failed attempt at romance. Nothing too serious, just another crush who had suddenly changed their bio from “single” to “taken”.
You furrowed your brows, a pout beginning to form upon your lips. What was so funny? You quickly turned to him, clearly offended by the smug expression on his face. This reaction he had managed to get out of you only caused his quiet chuckle to become a clear and loud giggle. To put it simply, you were outraged.
“Hey, Na! Why are you laughing? I’m having a crisis and my love life is falling apart!” The frustration in your voice was clear and this caused the boy’s laughter to finally come to an end. He only smiled at you fondly, and offered a small shrug in response.
“You’re so dramatic {Y/N}! You liked this person for what? A total of about a week? Stop trying to force a relationship. Your time will come,” he stated matter-of-factly which caused a loud and exaggerated groan to emit from your figure. You dramatically collapsed from your sitting position on the floor and draped yourself over his lap, a frown adorning your features.
“When will it come? I’ve been waiting my entire life and I’m tired of being alone,” you whined, puppy eyes gazing up at Jaemin. He hummed, hand reaching down to pet your head. He always did this whenever you were stressed and every single time, you calmed down.
“You’re not alone, you have me,” he teased, but there was truth to his words. No matter what, Jaemin was always there. Through heartbreak, through your failures, through any personal issue, Jaemin always had your back. A smile crept onto your lips at his words, your hands trailing up to rest on either side of his face.
“You’re right. I’m glad to have you.” Maybe the boy who you called your bestfriend wasn’t the man you were going to marry, but he was someone you were going to spend the rest of your life with. Someone who you wanted to stay by your side forever. He was irreplaceable. He was your soulmate.
