✰ Na Jaemin Messy Sanrio Layouts ✰

@thotxuxi asked: favorite hair color + wayv? 

insp

random anime packs

please like/reblog if you save or use!!

art credits: @hanavbara

Hey do me a favor; reblog this if you are one or have no problem with older kpop fans like 25+

WHY IS DEAR M ASKING THIS, THE FIRST CRUSH IS SINDONG MIDDLE SCHOOL JAEHYUN SUNBAENIM!!! jk BUt do y'all remember the letter jaehyun read and TURNS OUT TO BE A CONFESSION FOR HIM FROM SOMEONE FROM HIS MIDDLE SCHOOL I MEAN DEAR M IS BASICALLY JAEHYUN'S MIDDLE SCHOOL STORY LOL JK 😭

candy cane express + jaemin

synopsis: your school has this thing where you can buy a candy cane for someone and they’ll deliver it to the person you choose. unbeknownst to you, jaemin brought them for you.

genre: fluff

note: i just wanted to write a christmas themed one. i hope you guys have a happy holiday! get some rest, loves :)

as you were copying notes down during psychology class, a girl shyly enters the classroom after knocking.

“i have a candy cane for nicole,” she says, as you continue to copy the slide, unbothered.

until, “i have one for y/n,” the girl proceeds to say, causing you to give her a confused look, as you get up to get the candy.

“oh there’s another one, and another one, and oh another one,” the girl continues on and on as she hands you, what seems like an endless amount of candy canes.

each candy cane contained little notes.

note #1: “hey, this surprised you, huh?”

note #2: “wondering who i am, huh?”

note #3: “but first, i’ll tell you why i sent these and why are these $3 each?!?!”

note #4: “it took me a while to realize this, but every time i see you in the halls or class, my heart pounds. wow, how cheesy can i get, right? it gets worse.”

note #5: “you always made me feel important and i needed that, i needed you to smile at me, tell me that it’ll be okay, and give me good morning hugs.”

note #6: “you made my feelings entangled.”

note #7: “you made me lose track of time, whenever i talked to you.”

note #8: “you made me worried if you felt the same way as i did.”

note #9: “you made me anxious, nervous, but happy.”

note #10: “even from a mile away, okay im being dramatic, but i can recognize you from any distance, your voice, the way you laugh, and your cute little pouts.”

note #11: “you know why? because”

note #12: “i like you, so let’s spend 12 days of christmas together? wow, i really brought 12 of these. love, jaemin”

you snap your head to the back of the room, where you found a jaemin staring at you, smiling as you make eye contact.

you mouth a “yes” to him, causing him to smile even wider if that was even possible.

Hii I am new here and I don't know if I am doing this right but jaemin/doyoung enemies to lovers au "even when you’re annoying the fuck out of me, i still love you.""it's so hard not to fall in love with you" thank you in advance💚

note: very loosely based on buffy x angel from buffy the vampire slayer lmao 

member: na jaemin e2l!au, vampire slayer!au prompt(s): “"even when you’re annoying the fuck out of me, i still love you." + "it's so hard not to fall in love with you" wc: 600+

--

You were The Slayer. The Chosen One. Savior of all people. 

Such a high title for a university student that didn’t know what they were doing. Your Watcher, or guardian in layman’s terms did a good job in training you in your Slayer duties but he was absolutely useless in navigating through normal life problems.

And he certainly didn’t prepare you for this.

You were in the graveyard at night, hunting for the latest supernatural hassle that was harassing your small town. Keeping a watchful eye, you shifted your gaze around your surroundings, your sight never lingering on one place for too long-- vampires moved fast but you, as the Slayer, had to move faster. You heard the rustling of dried up leaves, the plants crunching underneath someone’s footsteps. The grip on your wooden stake tightened and you waited for the right moment before swiftly turning around, your free hand extended to grab hold of whoever was sneaking up on you.

Your hand caught hold of your attacker’s neck and you quickly backed them up into the nearest tree, stake raised right above their non-beating heart. Glaring harshly at them, you were shocked to see a familiar vampire in front of you.

Na Jaemin was his name and he was in your major at university. You didn’t exactly get along, always competing with each other for the hell of it, and it only got worse when you found him lingering around your battles. He never helped; he remained cryptic--sometimes giving you helpful information but never engaging in the action. 

Not knowing how Jaemin knew so much about the supernatural world, you tried to remain cautious around him. It was a struggle for you-- despite how much he got on your nerves, you couldn’t help but think he was attractive. He had the face of an angel but the shadows behind him were something of the devils. 

There was this lingering feeling around whenever the two of you were together, some kind of tension. You felt it and you were sure Jaemin felt it, too.

It all turned for the worse when you found out what he was-- a cursed soul and one of the most powerful vampires that ever walked the Earth. 

You could never figure out why he helped you against his own kind until that moment.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, stake hovering so close to his body.

Jaemin never reacted, his stare piercing through you. “Making sure you’re okay.”

“Why would a vampire want to make sure the slayer was alive?” you challenged, grip tightening around his neck. He didn’t fight back even though you knew he could. He could physically overpower you in a fraction of a second. 

“That’s another story for another day.”

“You say that as if you’re going to live to see another day.”

“Satan, even when you’re annoying the fuck out of me, I still love you,” Jaemin muttered under his breath.

Your hold on his neck loosened, shocked at his words. “What?”

His lips quirked up to show a fraction of a smile, one you had never seen on his angelic face before. “You heard me, Slayer. I know you did.”

“Is that why you’ve been protecting me all this time?” you asked, lowering your stake.

He chuckles, his voice deep and low. “It’s hard to resist you.”

“Resist my blood, you mean.”

“No,” he counters. “Just you.”

“Why?” you question him, eyebrows knitted.

“Why not? It’s so hard not to fall in love with you,” Jaemin replied, his face going soft. 

Yeah, your Watcher never prepared you for something like this. 

☆ of love and light

synopsis tiptoeing the line between love and friendship is always hard; but you love jaemin and jaemin loves you, you just don't know it yet.

pairing na jaemin x fem!reader

genre fluff, slight angst, university!au, best friends to lovers

word count thirteen thousand five hundred something

featuring nct dream, aespa

➸ notes happy early new year!! here is my first written work on this blog. apple was right— we need more longer written best friends to lovers oneshots on here so voila!! this has been in the works for a while. i think this is my new favourite thing i've ever written— it's so rinacore (fluff.) please reblog and leave feedback if you liked this <3 thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!!

everything we deeply love, will be a part of us forever. — unknown

You know Na Jaemin like the back of your hand.

Na Jaemin, whose smile is lopsided; the left part of his mouth drooping slightly lower than the other half. Na Jaemin, who hates dairy and strawberry flavouring, but still managed to eat a slice of your artificial strawberry flavoured fresh cream cake. Na Jaemin, whose mom texts you everyday to remind him to do his laundry, especially when he's at his busiest.

Said Na Jaemin sent you a text five minutes ago asking you to get him vacuum sealed chicken breast at the supermarket. No please, no thank you, no emoji indicating a smile in his tone. Just a 'hey, get chicken breast for me'.

You sigh, pulling your rolling basket to the chicken section of the meats aisle and Giselle just trails you like a lost puppy. She frowns when you start picking up slices of chicken breast and comparing them.

"Don't tell me... he asked for chicken breast again, didn't he?" Giselle asks. Her tone is a little too pointed and accusatory for your liking, but you brush it off.

Shrugging, you toss three slices of 500g chicken breast into your basket and move on, "He's having dinner at our place, Gigi. Am I supposed to give him nothing and let him starve?"

"Yes," she says, matter-of-factly. She walks ahead of you now, tossing a package of pork belly into the basket. "You can't keep buying groceries and feeding him. He's a grown man. He needs to learn to do things himself."

That you agree with. You're reminded of the time Jaemin spent the night at yours and Giselle's apartment and you tended to him the entire night. You like to say it's because acts of service is your love language, but both you and Giselle know that isn't true. Your love language is words of affirmation and quality time. You know this because you took a uQuiz during your ten minute break in your three hour psych lecture.

But the truth is you're undeniably, irrevocably, and imperatively in love with Na Jaemin.

Maybe it started when he nursed you back to health during your first year of university. You were dying (of a mild fever) during reading week and Jaemin spent all of his time tending to every one of your whines and complaints.

Or maybe it started in your first year of high school and Jaemin chose to go to the same hagwon you went to, so you two spend more time together (and possibly fail together).

But it also could have been back when you were in your second year of middle school, when you had no friends and Jaemin knew everyone, and he still chose to sit next to you in homeroom. He let you into his friend group and became your best friend within a few weeks.

Okay, that's enough of reminiscing in the drinks aisle.

You find yourself torn — do you get Jaemin the grape juice or the white peach juice? Turning to Giselle, you're met with a deadpan look and decide to place both bottles into your basket, pulling it behind you as you trail towards the cashier.

Since Jaemin's having dinner with you, you might as well get him something to drink, right? It's the least you could do. You don't want to see him smiling at his favourite brand of juice and thanking you with that lopsided smile of his.

Speaking of the man with the lopsided smile, he calls you right as you step into the checkout line. You put your phone to your ear and you're met with a shriek, "Y/N!"

Pulling the phone away, so as not to cause hearing loss, you wince, "Yes?"

"I need to stay the night—"

Before you can even answer, Giselle gives you a look that could kill. She gestures with her hand, signaling you to end the call, but you wave her off.

"Yeah. That's fine," you mumble, bringing the phone back to your ear. You aren't even sure of what he said when you were looking at Giselle.

There's a sigh of relief on the other line and Jaemin sounds like he's smiling, "Thanks Y/N. I owe you one."

You bid him goodbye as you move farther down the checkout line, pulling your wallet out of your bag.

Your current wallet is probably your favourite wallet, out of all of the ones you have right now. Jaemin gave it to you as a gift; he saw it in a shop display during his semester abroad in Japan and knew you had to have it (his words verbatim). It's pink (Jaemin's favourite colour, of course) and compact, with a polaroid of Jaemin and his cats where the wallet picture goes. You think if you ever lost it, you'd go insane.

The cashier tells you the total and you tap your card to the machine, watching as Giselle haphazardly throws your groceries into her My Neighbour Totoro tote bag. You collect your receipt and begin to trudge out into the mucky parking lot with Giselle in tow.

In the parking lot, Giselle throws her tote into the back seat, not caring for the goods inside. You furrow your eyebrows at her, "Please be careful. Don't stain my My Melody blanket."

Giselle shrugs, "You can always get another one."

Pouting, you think, no you can't. Jaemin bought you that for your car specifically. Huffing, you let her get settled in the passenger seat as you get into your car. Giselle pulls her sun visor down, before you can warn her not to, and a pile of post-it notes come tumbling down into her lap.

"Y/N, what is this?" she asks, picking one up to read. "'Y/N, good luck on your art history final!' You haven't taken art history since first year? How long have you kept this?"

Embarrassed, you pick up the pile of post-it notes from Giselle's lap and hastily open the middle console, shoving them into it. You can't meet her eyes, "None of your business."

Giselle smirks at you, "You're sooooo down bad. Like even worse than bad. Down worst."

You scoff at her attempt at a joke and pull out of the parking lot, the only thing on your mind being Jaemin. He's put a put a post-it note in your passenger sun visor for every quiz, test, exam, midterm, final; quite possibly everything you've ever you had. You keep them all for good luck, not only because you need the luck, but because you're sentimental and want to keep everything Jaemin's ever given you forever.

Maybe you are down worst like Giselle said.

But you won't tell her that.

—

You do know Na Jaemin like the back of your hand, because you expected him to be plopped down on the staircase leading to your apartment.

And he is.

You just weren't expecting him to be wearing a baby carrier for twins on his body. You also didn't realize that fully grown cats fit so perfectly in baby carriers. Another thing you failed to predict was the pet carrier on the ground beside him.

Because you're so engrossed in surprise, you leave Giselle behind to fetch the groceries in the back as you trudge up to Jaemin. Placing your hands on your hips, you frown at him, "Why are they here?"

Readying yourself for Jaemin's usual long winded schpiel, you shift your weight on to one foot as Jaemin smiles at you, hesitance on his features. But you're met with six words only, "They wanted to see their mom?"

You have just been Knocked Out! by Jaemin's reply. You're not only at a loss for words, but your heart has completely stopped. The only thing holding you up right now is your need to Keep Composure in front of your best friend slash crush.

"No, really, Jaemin," your voice cracks mid-sentence and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole, "why are they here?"

Jaemin pouts, accepting defeat, and explains, "Jeno killed a big spider in our bathroom and it turns out it was pregnant, so now we have hundreds of baby spiders crawling around our apartment."

Giselle catches up to you and frowns, "So you're just bringing your spider infested pets into our apartment?"

"Hey!" Jaemin exclaims, "Our—" he gestures to you and himself, "—children are not spider infested. I checked."

With a slight laugh, you lead Jaemin and Giselle upstairs, pulling the pet carrier into one hand. You climb up one step and angle your foot a little too close to the edge, stumbling forward. Jaemin's hands reach for your hips and keep you stable, nagging, "You should be more careful."

"Yes, mom," you mumble quietly. The placement of Jaemin's hands on your hips have your heart racing a bit too fast for your liking. Shaking it off, you continue your journey upstairs.

It's a good thing neither Jaemin nor Giselle can see your face.

—

Dinner went well; well in the way that none of Jaemin's cats disrupted your eating and Cooper didn't try to eat any of the cats. Jaemin thanked you for his chicken breast and fruit juice with a hug and a kiss to your forehead. Currently, you find yourself trying to melt yourself into Jaemin's chest. In a best friend way, of course.

Said Best Friend is going through his phone, his other arm wrapped around your middle, and his free fingers tapping at your side. You would be lying if you said that you weren't affected by the little taps on your waist. In fact, every time a finger leaves your waist, you miss it, but just for a mere second.

You look up at Jaemin, whose face is stark white, illuminated by his phone, then at his phone. He's reading spider killing updates from Jeno. It's not looking too good for him.

Then, you see it.

Attached to Jaemin's phone is a bracelet with all too familiar beads. A transparent pink heart bead, round pastel beads, a Kuromi bead, then another transparent pink heart bead lead you to letters that spell out Y/N ♡ JAEMIN ☆.

You reach up to grab at the bracelet and Jaemin smiles at you, "Just noticed?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Did you do this recently? I didn't see it last time."

Jaemin's smile grows bigger, like he's just learned something about you. His eyes wander over to your fingers that tangle around the beads and he answers you, "I did it yesterday. I realized I wanna keep a part of you with me everywhere I go, so I put it on my phone like a charm."

His answer, the sincerity in his eyes, and his soft smile have you at a loss for words. Letting go of the bracelet, you pull your eyes away from his, mumbling, "Cute."

Jaemin raises his eyebrows at you and replies, "You're cute."

Okay. Your face is too warm for your liking, so instead of egging Jaemin on, you push your face into his chest, as if it would open up and let you inside. Maybe then, inside Jaemin's chest cavity, you wouldn't have to worry about seeming flustered in front of him.

"Is my Y/N shy now?" Jaemin's voice lilts in a teasing way, and you bring up a closed fist to hit lightly at his other pec.

He throws his phone to the other side of the bed and brings his other hand to your other side, flipping you over so he's straddling you. His fingers move in a way that makes you highly uncomfortable because if you didn't know any better—

You burst out into loud laughter at the way his fingers move up and down your waist, pushing lightly to make the tickling worse. Your strength is no match for Jaemin's; you're unable to push away at his prodding hands and free yourself. Squirming and attempting to wriggle out of his hold doesn't help you either.

"Jaemin!" you cry out, "Stop! Please!"

His fingers halt as soon as you ask, and instead of tickling you, his hands grip around your waist, holding you in place underneath him. Jaemin's eyes are soft and he looks at you, but you can't fathom why. Your hair must be a mess from the way you were wriggling around on your bed and you're out of breath from laughing too much.

You must look extremely dishevelled, so why is Jaemin looking at you like you're the second coming of Christ? Like you're made of light?

You can't bring yourself to meet his eyes, but you can sort of make out the pout on his features as he looks down at you. His voice is soft, albeit a tad bit whiny, as he speaks, "Don't be shy with me."

You make the mistake of looking at Jaemin's face and if you weren't sure of your impending death earlier, you're sure of it now. Half lidded eyes, red round cheeks, and perfect lips tucked into a perfect pout; it's like he's looking right through you and you're 100% sure now that you could have a heart attack at any second now.

The people upstairs must have it out for you: they've given you the most beautiful best friend you could ever fathom, but you've fallen for him and you have no clue if he reciprocates your feelings. Once you get up there, you're going to have a long, stern talk with some of them.

Instead of answering Jaemin, you just nod at him, and his pout grows deeper. A big hand travels up to your jaw, grip not too hard, but enough to keep you still. He speaks with intent now, like he expects you to answer him, "Y/N. You don't have to be shy with me. There's nothing to be shy about."

There's actually a lot to be shy about, but you can't tell him that.

You finally open your mouth, "I won't be shy with you."

A fond smile makes its way on to Jaemin's features and he pulls his weight off of you, lightly patting your cheek as he gets up, "That's my girl."

He leaves your room, and you find yourself sprawled on your bed, dizzy from what just happened. If light touches and barely there grips could leave marks, then Jaemin's hand prints would be everywhere on you. You could look into a mirror and probably find his fingerprints on your face, around your jaw, and all over your waist.

If you didn't die earlier, these thoughts have killed you now.

you will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. — miriam adeney

Growing up, your family always taught you that home is where the person you love most is.

And growing up, that person was always your mom. No matter what happened that day, that hour, or that exact minute, your mom was always there with open arms for you to run into.

Your mom did everything she could to make sure you felt loved, safe, and protected. She often made you your favourite meal when you were sad, she would sing you your favourite song to make you happy, and she would kiss your forehead goodnight as you slipped away into slumber. For all your life, your mom was your home.

Until university started, and you were whisked away from your sweet, suburban home, and into the apartments of the bustling city.

Then your home became Jaemin.

Sure, he wasn't so big and bulky when you started university; he was more thin and lean back then, but things change. He became your home away from home when you couldn't call your mom to make doctor's appointments for you anymore.

Instead, Jaemin would voluntarily come with you to your appointments. He made sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling any stress or uneasiness.

Which is why now, sitting in your car after your doctor's appointment, your shoulders deflate with sadness at Jaemin's reply to your question.

"I can't come to your mom's birthday celebration because I'm seeing my grandma tomorrow."

You shouldn't feel sad because Jaemin has every right to see his grandma. Especially because Jaemin's grandma lives alone in a different suburb. It only makes sense for him to see her every weekend.

Jaemin's grandma is his home.

Jaemin grew up in the same suburb you moved to when you were in middle school, but he would take the train across the metropolitan area just to see his grandma every weekend. She always greeted him with open arms, much like your mom did to you.

There were some times when you would go with Jaemin to visit his grandma, and when you met her, Jaemin made a lot more sense. Not only did he inherit his warm eyes and kind smile from her, but every little habit of his could be traced back to her.

She was so kind to you, despite only meeting her a few times, that it moved your heart. So there's sort of a bittersweet feeling in your chest. But you push it away, swallowing it deep down within your system so that you can't think of it anymore.

"Yeah? Say hi to her for me," you smile, beginning to pull out of the parking lot.

Jaemin pauses, like he's thinking about what he wants to say next.

"She's been asking me when I'm going to bring a girl home to meet her, before she, you know," Jaemin says. You weren't sure what you were expecting, you just know you weren't expecting that.

You swallow the lump that's just now formed in your throat and reply, "Well, your grandma's not that old. Hopefully, she isn't dying yet."

"Knock on wood, knock on wood!" Jaemin exclaims at you, pulling out his notebook with a wood panel design on its cover. He knocks hard on it three times, then slips it back into his tote bag. You're not sure if he's an idiot or a genius for carrying that thing around to knock on as its sole purpose.

"But why don't you bring a girl home to her?" you ask. You're not sure if you really want to know the answer to that, afraid you might get your feelings hurt unintentionally.

Whatever, you brought it on yourself.

Mentally preparing yourself for his answer, you grip your Pompom Purin-clad steering wheel tighter.

"There's only one type of person I want to bring home to her," Jaemin says. He looks out the window, watching the other cars pass by, as he continues speaking, "I want to bring her someone who reminds me of home, you know? Someone who just makes me feel at ease effortlessly."

You nod along to his answer, interest piquing at his honesty.

You know Jaemin is your home away from home, but are you his?

There's a sudden sinking feeling in your stomach, something that sucks all of the oxygen out of the car and makes it hard to breathe. You aren't sure if you can make it to Jaemin's apartment peacefully now.

—

The morning after your mom's birthday party, you find yourself staring blankly into the mountains of leftovers that invade your fridge. Sighing, you pull out the tray of fruit salad and plop down at your dining table. Jaemin would have loved to eat the food your mom cooked.

You shake your head in shame because you shouldn't be thinking of him right now. He probably isn't even thinking of you. Who cares if Jaemin is a big fan of your mom's soft tofu stew? Who cares if Jaemin would have spent the entire night entertaining your little brother? Who cares if Jaemin would have laughed at every one of your dad's bad jokes?

You don't.

Well.

You shouldn't.

You're stabbing into the little fruits, like they owe you something, when you hear it. There's a light knock on your front door.

For some reason, you take a look around and decide to open the door. You're not sure why your jaw decides to drop when you see a sheepish Jaemin standing there with a gift bag in his hands.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, shuffling back into the kitchen as Jaemin takes his shoes off. You take out another fork and hand it to him, pulling out a bottle of grape juice. "Aren't you spending the weekend with your grandma?"

Jaemin stabs into a piece of honeydew and inspects it before shoving it in his mouth, "Yeah, but she said I should come see you."

What a peculiar thing to say. You're intrigued.

Tilting your head, you take a strawberry, "Why would she say that?"

You watch as Jaemin tries to finds the correct words to say, rubbing the back of his neck and furrowing his eyebrows in thought. He opens his mouth just to close it and you tilt your head even more.

Huffing, he finally answers you, "I couldn't stop talking about how I missed you and how every little thing reminded me of you."

It's your turn to furrow your eyebrows because there is no way Jaemin just said that about you. In fact, you're so far up your ass about how you feel for him, that you're probably projecting onto him.

You bite onto the prongs of your fork, eyes trained on the tray of fruit in front of you, "I-I guess I missed you too."

What a bunch of lies. You missed him so much. The entirety of your stay at home so far was spent talking about how much you missed Jaemin. In fact, your brother even threw a pillow at your face to get you to shut up because you wouldn't stop incessantly talking about how you were possibly homesick (read: it was quite obvious you were very "homesick.")

"Now! Where's your mom so I can give her some of my grandma's seaweed soup?" Jaemin asks, pulling a container out of the giftbag. He rummages around your kitchen like it's his own, gathering a bowl and a spoon.

At that moment, your mom walks into the kitchen with very obvious sleep in her eyes. She blinks once, twice, then realizes that Jaemin is standing in front of her. She pulls him into a hug and exclaims, "What are you doing here? Have you eaten?"

Jaemin just chuckles as he pulls away, pushing the bowl of seaweed soup into the microwave, "I just came home to say happy birthday! And I will eat, don't worry."

Your mom smiles and pushes you towards the fridge, hinting that you should get food for Jaemin. She smiles at him, "Well, thank you! You know, Y/N was complaining nonstop last night because of how homesick she was!"

"Mom!" the whine spills from your lips faster than you can stop it, and all you get back in response is a light shove to the shoulder.

Jaemin laughs, "I get it, I get it. I was a little homesick yesterday too."

Your mom pats his back, "Are you feeling a bit better now?"

"A lot better, actually," Jaemin says. The microwave finally beeps and he takes the bowl out, handing it to your mother. "I'm glad to be home."

Your mom smiles at him, then looks at you with a smirk, "You're welcome here anytime, Jaemin."

You're not sure what just happened, but you're 100% sure you want to duct tape your mom's mouth shut so she can't embarrass you like that ever again. It's one thing to embarrass your own child, but another to possibly potentially ruin their life by hinting at their unrequited feelings to the person they have said feelings for.

Maybe you shouldn't have come home for the weekend.

—

Being in your university's drama department has its ups and downs. An up? Complimentary catering from the university dining hall during long days. A down? Long days.

Today has been one of those long days.

Not only were you up since five in the morning, you were also called to step in for the lead's understudy unexpectedly. The lead got strep throat two days ago, and that morning the understudy fell off a 6 foot ladder. Talk about breaking a leg, literally!

It's 11 in the evening when you finally manage to pull yourself under your duvet covers. The bright light of the moon is dimmed by the blanketing clouds and your lace curtains. There are zero remnants of cats in your room and Cooper is at Giselle's parents' house for the weekend.

You should be able to fall asleep.

You should be able to fall asleep, but you don't.

Because once you close your eyes, fatigue and exhaustion don't hit you like they should. Your guardian angels don't lift up your body and fly you to dreamland like you expect.

Your eyes open and drift off to your window, where the moon's risen in the sky.

It's daunting tonight. Its full form takes its place at the highest point in the sky and all you can do is blink at it in dread.

The full moon can't be keeping you awake, can it?

Huffing, you roll over and pull your phone out from your nightstand. There are a myriad of notifications that line your screen, but only one that catches your eye.

A missed call from Jaemin, not too long ago.

You press on the notification and put the call on speaker, not even realizing that the line connects immediately.

"Y/N? I thought you were asleep," Jaemin's voice is soft on the other line. By the way a cat is directly purring into the phone, you can tell he's cuddling with one of your children. "What's wrong?"

"Can't sleep," you mumble. Rolling onto your stomach, you squint at the tiny numbers at the top of your phone screen. 1:23am, it reads. "I've been trying for around two hours now."

Jaemin's silent on the other line for a second, then the purring stops, and he replies, "Do you want me to sing to you? Like your mom used to?"

You're somewhat embarrassed by the question, but you're too exhausted to care about that right now. You mumble a confirmation into your phone and plop your head on your pillow, like you know Jaemin's lullaby is going to put you to sleep.

You close your eyes and Jaemin begins to sing a song that's all too familiar to you.

Close your eyes and listen to what I'm saying Before my story ends, you'll be dreaming Little star, tonight, I will protect you all night

His voice is soft, sweet, serene as your breathing evens out. Despite your breathing being even, your body doesn't surrender to slumber. Instead, you find yourself conscious, with your eyes closed and your ears open.

You're my love, my everything, an angel from the heavens You stole my two eyes, my world Little star, tonight, I will protect you all night

"Jaemin?" your little voice causes Jaemin to stop singing and you feel hesitant to say it. "I don't think it's working. Can you come over?"

"Of course. I'll see you in ten."

Jaemin is pushing through your bedroom door in exactly ten minutes. He jumps onto your bed and presses his cheek to yours.

"Can't sleep?" he whispers; his voice is muffled because his cheek still pressed to yours. When you nod, you can hear the pout in his voice, "How come?"

"I had a long day and I don't think I can unwind from it," you mumble. Jaemin pulls himself away from your back and sits next to your laying figure, his hand already dragging itself up and down your back to soothe you.

Jaemin nods, to himself mostly, and whispers, "Just close your eyes and breathe. I'll be here as long as you need."

So you do just that. Your breathing evens out once again and you focus on the calloused fingers moving up and down your shirt. If you weren't so tired, you're pretty sure you would have suffered from a stroke a while ago.

It takes a while, but you succumb to sweet slumber, under Jaemin's touch. You can't see him, but his eyes travel your profile. They stop at your eyes, lined with long and thick eyelashes. They travel down the slope of your nose. From there, they go down your cupid's bow and stop at your lips.

Jaemin presses a kisses to the side of your head and lays down next to you.

Needless to say, that's the best sleep you've gotten in a while.

i once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you'll excuse the presumption. — f. scott fitzgerald

Being a drama major is hard.

Especially when you're tasked with kissing Jaemin's friend, fellow drama major, Lee Haechan. You are not only tasked with kissing him in a scene from a play, but you're also tasked with emoting romantic love for Lee Haechan during said scene from said play.

This should be easy.

The keyword being should, because it's not easy.

You have never kissed anyone in your twenty three year life span and you've only been in love with one person. You don't know how to act out being in love because you don't know how one acts when they're in love.

And if one acts like you when they're in love, then you're screwed. You're probably going to get a 0 in the Romantic Dramedies unit.

"I can't do it," you mope, forcing yourself down onto the table in front of you. You really shouldn't because the table is dirty and you're in the dining hall, but you can't really bring yourself to care. "I don't want to kiss Haechan and I don't want to act in love with Haechan and I don't want to do it."

Huang Renjun, an unimpressed bioengineering student, rolls a meatball across his plate and deadpans, "Then don't."

"But then I'll fail and I'll never get casted for a romantic dramedy," you whine some more. "How am I supposed to become an award winning actress then?"

Renjun reaches over the table to pluck a string bean off your plate. He munches as he speaks, "Why don't you just switch partners, then?"

You scrunch your eyes closed. You've explained this to him five times now, albeit with the omission of important information. "Everyone has a kissing scene, Renjun. It's the romantic dramedy unit."

"Sucks then," he shrugs. "I just don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of it."

Karina takes a seat beside him, placing her tray down and not even bothering to spare you a glance, "Y/N hasn't had her first kiss yet."

Renjun chokes a bit, then laughs as loud as he possibly can, "Wait— really? This is so—" you throw a string bean at his face and he scowls, "—Funny. This is so funny. You're in love with Na Jaemin and your first kiss is not going to be with Na Jaemin. Oh god, this is hilarious."

Karina pats your hand, as if to soothe you and apologize for feeding Renjun that information.

And if things can't get any worse, Jaemin has just taken the seat beside you, sliding a bowl of mac and cheese towards you, "What's up?"

At this point, Renjun wipes away a stray tear and grins at Jaemin, "Y/N's first kiss is going to be with Haechan and not with the guy—"

Before Renjun can finish his sentence, Karina throws a spoonful of creamed corn at Renjun. He frowns as they stick to his cream knit vest.

Jaemin turns to you and you sit up straight, frowning as you begin digging into your mac and cheese. "What's going on?" he asks.

You mix the pasta in your bowl, furrowing your eyesbrows, "Well, you see, in my acting class, we're doing the romantic dramedy unit and we're all supposed to do a scene of a play of the professor's choice. I have to do The Debutante with Haechan, and we have to kiss, so I'm worried I won't do so well."

Jaemin tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and he pouts, "Are you nervous?"

You nod, finally taking a bite of your food.

"Do you want me to help you go over your lines?" Jaemin asks. You don't notice how his eyes are fixed on you, looking for any sign of discomfort.

You nod again, and Jaemin smiles.

"But we're not kissing," you mumble, shoving more macaroni into your mouth. You don't know if you would be able to handle kissing Jaemin. But not only would you be kissing Jaemin, you'd also be having your first kiss with Jaemin. And not only would that be your first kiss, but it would also be a kiss of service, because he's kissing you to help you with your one act play. He's not kissing you because he's in love with you.

You don't notice the way Jaemin's shoulders deflate at your statement. And if you did, you would have forced yourself to pay it no mind.

Instead, you lose yourself in the low quality macaroni and cheese that your best friend got you for lunch.

—

Maybe going over your lines with Jaemin wasn't such a good idea. It's not that he's bad (he is very bad) and it's not that he's good (he very much isn't), it's just that you can't help but get lost in the soft galaxies that make up his pupils.

You've been trying to go over the kiss scene for over an hour now, but every time Jaemin's face gets too close to yours, you drop to the floor out of shock. What else are you supposed to do when the guy you've been in love with — for years, might I add — hovers around your face with his lips near yours? Pass out.

Or worse, die.

Okay, let's go. Take thirty three part two, since you're at the second kiss scene.

"What's your general trend?" Jaemin asks. Your eyes leave his face and flit down to your script.

Clearing your throat, you read your line, "Oh, I'm bright, quite selfish, emotional when aroused, fond of admiration—"

Jaemin is supposed to say his line next.

But he doesn't.

So you repeat yourself, "...Emotional when aroused, fond of admiration..."

And again, no word from Jaemin.

Which isn't like him. Usually, he's confident and knows just what to do. Plus, the two of you have been going at it, reading line after line in this study room, for almost two hours now.

You look up at him and he's looking directly at you, with something hidden deep in his gaze. It feels like your eyes must be playing tricks on you.

There is no way a glint of adoration, fondness, or even love just flashed through Jaemin's eyes as he looked at you right now. You're delusional.

Instead of confronting his eyes head on, you look back down at your script. The way in which your heart tries to break free out of your chest is telling you to just do it! Look him back in the eye!

But you're scared.

If he knows you like the back of his hand, he'll know with one look that you're head over heels crazy in love with him. He would just know.

You huff, "Jaemin."

"Yeah?"

"You were supposed to say your line after fond of admiration."

"Sorry. You're just so good at this," he mumbles. Like he's ashamed, maybe even embarrassed of himself, his eyes travel back down to his script, and he speaks, "I don't want to fall in love with you—"

You raise your eyebrows, as instructed, "Nobody asked you to."

Now if only Jaemin would fall in love with you. If only Jaemin would make your dreams come true, fall in love with you, kiss the ever loving hell out of you, and date you. If only he would look at you with all the love in the world, no softness left for small kittens and cute puppy clothing. You want Jaemin to be in love with you so bad, it might kill you.

But now is not the time for that. Now it's time to concentrate on emoting romantic love so that you might pass your romantic dramedy unit.

"But I probably will," Jaemin reads off his script, monotone. His eyes meet yours, then they travel south to your mouth, "I love your mouth."

It takes you everything to not freak out in the moment. It takes everything in you not to curl up into a ball on the floor, just because your best friend looked at your lips.

"Hush— please don’t fall in love with my mouth— hair, eyes, shoulders, slippers— but not my mouth," you mumble. Your features form a pout automatically, and your free hand reaches up to touch your lips, sullen. "Everybody falls in love with my mouth."

Jaemin's eyes are fixed on your lips, "It’s quite beautiful."

You look away, shoulders slumping, "It’s too small."

"No, it isn’t— let’s see."

Jaemin steps closer, like he's entranced; his face hovers around yours — your noses just a hairsbreadth away from touching. Your heart picks up its pace, practically trying to break free from its confines in your ribcage. He's about to inch closer, when your legs give out from underneath you, and you drop to the floor. Again.

"Holy shit— are you okay?" Jaemin asks, squatting down to your level.

He cups his hands around your jaw and inspects your face, looking into your eyes for any discomfort. He presses the back of one hand to your forehead, to see if you've randomly caught a fever out of nowhere (you haven't), pulls his hand away, and then presses his forehead against yours.

"I think I'm just really dizzy," you mumble, unable to meet his eyes. You know for a fact that if you met his eyes, you'd faint on the spot and Jaemin would definitely find out you're in love with him, because let's face it, what kind of normal person faints when faced with the love of their life?

"Do you think you can push through?" Jaemin asks. He doesn't make any effort to pull his face away from yours, like he's completely unaware of the effect he has on you right now. "Or do you wanna take a quick break?"

You pull away from his face, missing the way Jaemin falters for a split second, then hum, "I think that's all for today. I'll practice with Haechan tomorrow."

Jaemin frowns, "Are you sure?"

You nod, "I just really wanna lay down right now."

"Should I take you to your place or mine?"

That's a question you didn't expect, nor do you want to answer. Being around Jaemin for too long is bad for your health. He may be your best friend, but he is also the cause of potential heart attacks, strokes, and whatnot. It might be a good idea to just head to yours.

"I'm gonna go to mine," you answer.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Jaemin asks. By the way he can't look at you, you can tell that he's sort of hurt by the insinuation.

You take a breath. Do you: hurt the love of your life's feelings by going home alone and dealing with the repurcussions of your actions in the solitude of your dark bedroom or hurt yourself by bringing the love of your life home and dealing with the repurcussions of your actions in the solitude of your dark bedroom later?

Past, present, and future you be damned.

"No. Come lay in my dark bedroom with me," you force a smile and hold your hand out. Jaemin helps you up with a hand on your waist and you suddenly find yourself missing the coolness of the carpeted library floor.

—

Jaemin told you he was going to watch your play with Haechan. He told you, and you processed the fact, and you understood it.

And yet right now, with Jaemin's eyes on you as he sits in the front row of the hoard of students, you can't help but feel nervous. Like a parasite is eating away at your organs and you can't help but stand there in doom, rather than getting help and calming down. He gives you a thumbs up and a smile, and you force a smile back, nodding.

Haechan comes up to you, holding his fist out, "Let's break a leg out there!"

You press your closed fist to his and hiss, "If anything, I will be breaking your legs out there."

"Okay. Nevermind!" Haechan grumbles. He walks over to stage left, to the door prop.

Your professor yells for the scene to start and your mind slips from you; you become a new person. You become Rosalind.

You and Haechan bicker back and forth as the two characters do — flirtatious and nonchalant. The kiss is coming up faster than you expected.

You didn't want to kiss Haechan; Hell, you still don't want to, but your grade depends on it. You slip, acting all on your own, and your eyes shift towards Jaemin for a split second. And he's looking at you like that again.

Jaemin. He is all you can think about.

Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.

It hits you; you shatter like a glass house, immediately, as fast as possible, and all at once. You do not fall for Jaemin piece by piece. This love is not gradual. It hits you like a brick wall, its impact leaving you stumbling backwards and looking for anything to ground you.

Instead, all you feel is an ache in your head and the pulsing of blood in your ears. Your heart feels like it will not stop, not even for a second, as long as Jaemin's looking at you like this. He is bright eyed and bushy-tailed, everything good in the world. He is pancake breakfasts and fresh squeezed orange juice in the morning. He's an afternoon nap; one that is dreamless, one that doesn't leave you groggy once you wake, and one that is just right. He's kisses on your eyelids when you want to sleep, but need to stay up doing a reading.

Jaemin is love.

And it hits you where it hurts, because you know he may never feel the same way.

"Rosalind, I really want to kiss you," Haechan remarks.

You blink. You don't want to say your next line. But you have to.

"So do I," you mumble.

Haechan steps forward. With each step he takes towards you, you want to take a step back. You want to leave your first kiss for the one you're in love with, the only one who have eyes for.

But you don't know if he'll ever love you back.

You remember the stage direction, bright and clear as day: They kiss — definitely and thoroughly.

So you let Haechan kiss you. His lips are soft on yours, the lightest pressure you've ever felt on your lips in your life. There are no sparks and the only reason your heart is beating so fast is because you're performing in front of a crowd and you've just had your first kiss with another actor.

The kiss is meaningless. It's for show and entertainment and fun.

So why do you feel so bad?

Haechan pulls away from you; he's breathless, but his eyes are dead on yours, "Well, your curiosity is satisfied."

The scene goes on and on and on and the second kiss flies by without any warning. Before you know it, the spotlight dims and your professor yells cut!

Jaemin follows you to the dressing room, where you let out a heavy breath you didn't even know you were holding. You lean on the table, shoulders slumping. Jaemin stands beside you, twirling a piece of your hair around his fingers, "How are we feeling?"

Heaving out a sigh, you pout, "I hated every second of it."

Jaemin's eyes soften at your demeanor. His hands travel to your shoulders and he gives them a light squeeze, "Why?"

"It felt wrong to me," you mumble. You're happy he can't see your face. Maybe your lovesick expression would have given you away had he seen it. "I'm just glad it's over."

"Do you wanna get some food and lay around in bed?" Jaemin asks.

"Yeah, after class," you reply. You push yourself off the table, letting Jaemin intertwine your fingers as you walk out of the dressing room.

He tries to smile at you; a gesture you would have really needed had the circumstances been different, but you can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes right now. Especially after what just happened.

—

As an I'm-so-glad-you-did-well! gift, Jaemin takes you to the diner to get you a chocolate milkshake and some fries. He watches you with a fond smile on his face, as you dip fry after fry in your milkshake.

"Soo..." Jaemin begins.

You mock him, "Soo..."

He grins, reaching over the table to pinch at your cheek with a coo, "Do you want to come to a party with me tomorrow night?"

"A party?" you ask.

You are somewhat startled by this revelation of a question. In your three years at university, Jaemin (and you, by default) has never once been to a party.

Well. It depends on your definition of a party.

You have gone to many drama department parties, also known as wrap parties, with Jaemin accompanying you. You doubt those are the same type of party Jaemin is inviting you to.

"Yeah. Mark joined a frat this year so he's inviting us to a party," Jaemin shrugs. He takes a sip of your milkshake then shudders in realization. "Why did I even drink that?"

You laugh at how cute Jaemin is, but then it hits you. Mark is in his last year of univesity, so why join a frat now? It's hard to imagine an awkward Mark surrounded by big, beefy frat bros. What would they even have in common?

"Why would Mark join a frat?" you ask.

"He said it's his last year of polisci and he wanted to have at least one normal uni experience," Jaemin shrugs again.

"Right," you roll your eyes, "because being your professor's favourite TA and lounging around the humanities faculty offices are not normal uni experiences."

Jaemin just narrows his eyes at you, one hand occupied with stirring your straw around in your milkshake, "So what do you say?"

You hum, taking a fry and holding it between your teeth. Jaemin's eyes wander to your mouth and they linger, a fact you don't notice.

You begin to speak and Jaemin looks into your eyes once again, "I guess we could use the experience. But if I don't like it, I don't want to step foot into a frat house ever again. Got it?"

"You got it, boss!" Jaemin salutes you and you chuckle, finishing the rest of your fry.

Sure, your only knowledge of frat parties come from shitty romcom movies from the '90s and your cousin Jaehyun's anecdotes from when he was in a frat, but what's the worse that could happen? Someone could potentially throw up on your shoes, someone could potentially sneeze into their palm and wipe it on you, and someone could potentially bump into you, causing you to spill your drink all over yourself, but really, what's the harm?

It's not like something could happen that flips your world upside down.

to love someone is firstly to confess: i'm prepared to be devastated by you. — billy-rey belcourt

Frat house parties are always insane.

Well, they always sounded insane.

Your cousin Jaehyun always talked about finding some horned up couple getting frisky in his shoe closet. There was also a time when he found his own girlfriend getting frisky in his shoe closet, with a guy that was not him. Not to mention another time, when he walked into his shoe closet and stepped in a puddle of fresh vomit and something that resembled semen. Not cool.

Thankfully, you are not a frat brother, nor do you choose to be one. If you ever were a frat brother, you figure your life might be going in a shitty direction. Thank god you also don't have a shoe closet in a bedroom of a frat house.

You stand in the hallway of your apartment, the only good enough place with lighting for a full length mirror selfie, and pout at yourself in the mirror. Your hands never leave your hips as you turn around, positioning yourself from pose to pose, trying to understand why you think you look awful in your outfit.

"Gigi, come here!" you shout, frown evident in your voice.

Giselle grumbles, trudging towards you in her pajamas, "Again? What's wrong with your outfit this time?"

Giselle emphasizes the words this time, because this is probably the seventh or eighth time you've called her over. (This is actually the tenth time, but no one else is counting but yourself.)

"I think I look weird. Do you think Greek life university students will think I look weird like this?" you ask. You're not one to be insecure, but being in a new environment means meeting new people, and meeting new people means making first impressions. You don't want anyone to think you're weird for wearing a black, glittery bandeau top and off-white cargo pants.

Giselle just looks you up and down and smirks, "Honestly? I think you look super hot— and, maybe tonight, you might get lucky if Jaemin decides to jump your bo—"

There's a knock at the door that cuts her off and you shoot her a wary look. It's very obvious that Jaemin is the one at the door and you hope that he heard none of Giselle's very stupid sounding sentence. She lets out a mumbled apology and makes her way to the door.

"Jaemin! Come on in!" you can hear Giselle exclaim. "Y/N's just looking at herself in the mirror! She thinks she looks weird—"

Curse Giselle and her big mouth.

"Why would she look weird?" Jaemin asks. Before you know it, they're standing to your side, Giselle's hands on her hips.

She smirks, "I think she looks hot. Do you think she looks hot?"

Jaemin looks you up and down, and he gulps. His voice cracks as he speaks, "She looks— looks, um, pretty."

"Pretty? Pretty fine, if you ask me," Giselle exclaims.

"Um. I'm gonna go take a seat in the kitchen," Jaemin creaks. He pads away to the kitchen and you blow a raspberry.

What he does mean by um, pretty? Is he lying? Does he think you look weird? Maybe you should reconsider your outfit, or even reconsider going to the party.

Giselle comes over to pat at your butt lovingly and whispers, "If he doesn't make a move tonight, I swear—"

You scoff, "Why would he make a move? He's my best friend."

Giselle gives you an incredulous look, like you just dissed her mom or something, "Are you insane? Do you not see the way he looks at you?"

You swat at her, "He looks at me the same way he looks at everyone else, Gi. There is no reason for him to look at me any differently."

Giselle scoffs at you and trudges to her room, not even bothering to look back at you, "Suit yourself."

You make your way to the kitchen, where Jaemin is fiddling with his fingers. You tilt your head at him, "Let's go?"

Jaemin nods and gets up from the table, following you to the foyer. He watches you slide your shoes on and grab your purse from the hook. His cheeks are pink, his hand rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. He doesn't speak until you're in the building hallway.

"I meant it, Y/N. You look really pretty tonight," Jaemin mumbles. He pulls your hand into his, but can't seem to meet your eyes. "And you smell really nice. Is your perfume new?"

Something warm bubbles up in your chest and you can't help but smile. You nudge his shoulder with yours, "Thank you, you're not so bad yourself. And yeah, it's new. I can't believe you noticed."

"It's you, of course I noticed," Jaemin admits. He gives your hand a squeeze and your grin only grows bigger. As expected of Jaemin, ever so the observant best friend.

You suddenly remember where you're headed and your heart sinks. What if Jaemin leaves you at the party for someone else? What if someone flirts with him right in front of you? Or even worse, what if Jaemin gets frisky in Mark's shie closet with someone else? You don't know what you would do or how you would take it.

As if Jaemin's noticed you suddenly tensed up, he gives your hand another squeeze and you come back down to earth. You can only hope for the best.

—

By the time you're at Nu Chi Theta, the party is jumping, the people on the dance floor are jumping, everything is jumping. It would be a lie to say you weren't overwhelmed, especially by the group of people that look at you like you have a third eye growing out of your forehead. But everytime you tense up, Jaemin is there to squeeze your hand as he pulls you through the maze of drunk university students and into the kitchen.

You bump into Mark, who looks at you, Jaemin, and your linked hands. He raises an eyebrow, "Are you two... finally...?"

You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused, "Are we finally what?"

Mark looks at Jaemin, who shrugs, and laughs awkwardly, "Um. Nevermind." He fist bumps Jaemin and gives you a weird side hug. "Glad you guys could make it. So what do you think?"

"Of... the frat house?" you ask, tilting your head.

Jaemin lets out a laugh from beside you, "It sure is a frat house. I don't think I've seen this many people ever. In my life."

Mark laughs, "Yeah, there's like so many people. All the time. I miss... not being in a frat. Um. Feel free to get some drinks and dance. If you need me, I'll be in my room. My door says Markle in big red block letters."

You nod and Mark stalks off to the grand staircase. Jaemin turns to you with a shrug and you roll your eyes, letting out a chuckle. "Should we drink?"

Jaemin narrows his eyes at you, "I drove us here."

You put your hands up in surrender, "Okay. Guess it's just me."

You pull your hand away from Jaemin's to mix yourself a drink. You've never done this before, but you've heard of a drink called rum and coke, so you opt for one of those. Pulling a solo cup from the stack, you pour an alcohol poisoning inducing amount of rum into your cup and the slightest bit of coke, just for good measure.

Jaemin just watches as you sip on your concoction, grimacing once you wince from the burn. You're not one to drink or tolerate alcohol well, so that one sip has you wobbly already.

"It's... okay," you mumble, taking another sip. Jaemin places a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to an empty couch. The two of you take a seat, you tilting your head back to sip occasionally. You chatter about this and that for a few minutes, before a girl comes up to sit on the end of the couch, beside Jaemin.

"Hi," she says. Her voice is pretty. Her face is pretty. Her outfit is pretty. You feel sort of out of place looking at her. "I've never seen you around before. I'm Gowon, you are?"

Jaemin flashes her a forced smile, you can tell because it isn't lopsided, and speaks, "I'm Jaemin. This is Y/N. We came together."

As you take your sip, you choke because you snort when Jaemin introduces you. It was something you weren't expecting and to be introduced to a girl trying to hit on him made you want to shrivel up into a raisin. Jaemin smacks your back lightly, "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

You shake your head and Jaemin turns to Gowon with a small smile, "Do you think you could get me some tissues?"

Gowon's smile drops, "Uh. Yeah. Sure."

Maybe it's because you're already starting to feel tipsy from your mostly rum drink, but you make a face at Jaemin. Why would he sabotage himself like that? That girl was really pretty and they would have looked so cute together. Maybe they would have gotten married and you could have been Jaemin's best man at his wedding, to someone that is not you. You want to cry just thinking about it.

You take another swig of your drink, to try to shake off your thoughts of Jaemin's future wedding, and Jaemin just tsks. He uses the sleeves of his hoodie to dab at your face lightly and purses his lips at you, "You're so funny, you know that?"

Shaking your head with a smile, you finish the last of your drink. Deciding to drink more, you stand up, and Jaemin gets up with you, but you pout, "Stay there."

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at you, "But you're tipsy."

You take a step forward, already wobbling worse than before, and wave a hand in dismissal at him, "I'll be fine."

It takes you maybe five minutes to walk to the kitchen without falling and you hold on to the ledge of the marble countertop to keep yourself steady. There's a low laugh from beside you and you turn to see a blurry shape in your vision.

"Need help?" the shape asks. You have no idea what the shape is referring to, so you shake your head. "But you're having trouble just standing. Let me help you."

You do as you're told and let the blurry shape help you. You're given a new drink, the cup you hold in your hands filled with a cold liquid, and you walk back to Jaemin. This time you're walked back with the blurry shape leading you.

"You should keep an eye on her," the shape says. Jaemin reaches up to pull you down on to the couch with him, and you find yourself snuggled in his side. The contents of your cup slosh around, but not enough to spill.

"What's in your drink?" Jaemin asks, peering into the cup.

"Dunno," you shrug. He takes the cup out of your hand to inspect it. You would have done it yourself, but you're bordering on drunk now and your vision is still blurry as fuck. You press yourself further into Jaemin's side, your nose digging into his sweater.

Your eyes close, so you don't notice Jaemin take a sip of your new drink. It's just cold water, thank god. He notices that you're snuggled into his side and he mumbles, "Do you want to sleep?"

You don't open your eyes as you answer him with a whine, "I want to lay down."

Jaemin pushes the cup back into your hand and stands up from the couch, laughing as you whine some more about him letting you go. He places a hand under your knees and the other at the crook of your neck, picking you up princess style. The feeling of being lifted up has you opening your eyes in realization and you look around.

Thank god no one seems to be looking at you, because you're feeling incredibly weird right now. That feeling is only heightened by your drunkeness and the fact that you're being lifted around the frat house bridal style. Jaemin trudges up the stairs and waddles around until his finds a door labelled Markle in big red block letters.

Frat parties have always sounded insane to you. And now, having experienced part of one yourself, you think they're nothing of the sort.

—

You find yourself sobered up and tangled in Jaemin's embrace at the peak of the party. You're able to feel the bass boom and thud and vibrate within the thin walls of Mark's room, but you pay it no mind. Kali Uchis' No Eres Tu plays on loop in the background.

You play with the pendant on Jaemin's necklace, not feeling bored at all. You thought that just laying around Mark's room would be boring, especially because of the party, but you find yourself content. Maybe it's because you're with Jaemin.

Now that you're mostly sober, you make a face at him, "Why did you introduce me to that girl?"

Jaemin laughs, you smile at the vibration against your face, "What girl?"

"You know, that girl. The one who came up to us on the couch," you say. You really want to know why he had to introduce you too. Sure, you're best friends, but that doesn't warrant an introduction to a girl who's clearly wanting to hit on him. "She clearly wanted to flirt with you, Jaem."

"Well, I didn't want to flirt with her back," Jaemin replies, matter-of-factly.

Oh.

There's probably a reason for that.

"Why?" you mumble. "She was so pretty."

"I think— no, I know. I know I have feelings for a girl," Jaemin whispers. The sinking of your heart is imminent, but Jaemin's eyes are sincere as he looks at you. "She's way prettier than that girl from downstairs."

Why is he telling you this now? Does he know? Is he trying to let you down gently?

You rack your brain for answers, not expecting Jaemin's next question.

"Have you ever had feelings for me?"

Get out of my mind, might like what you find Be careful with what you ask for I got what you need, I know what you like I can make you addicted

His voice is soft, you could barely hear it over the music on your phone. His eyes look deeply into yours, as if he's looking, searching for something you want to hide. Something you don't want him to know.

You gulp, "Jaemin... I don't know how to answer that question."

A hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb tracing up and down your cheek. The moment would be heart warming, almost heart attack inducing if you weren't so sure Jaemin was gonna break your heart.

"Then... have you ever thought of kissing me?"

Another unexpected question. With the way Jaemin is looking at you like you're a Renaissance painting, holding you like you're the most experice glass work in the world, and whispering just so only you can hear him, your heart is going double, even triple what it normally should.

You don't want to lie to him, but you've always thought of kissing Jaemin. When he gets you macaroni and cheese in the dining hall, when he lays on your bed like it's his own, when he sleeps next to you, you always want to kiss him. But you can't tell him that. You can't ruin your friendship like that.

"No," you mumble, breaking eye contact.

Your eyes go down to his lips; plump, pretty, petal-like. You want to kiss him right now.

"Can I kiss you right now?"

God is playing tricks on you. There is no way on earth your best friend since middle school just asked if he could kiss you.

You want to. So badly. It's a carnal desire at this point.

But you can't stop thinking about your years long friendship. How Jaemin has your matching friendship bracelet hanging off his phone as a charm. How Jaemin walks you to and from your lectures, even if he doesn't have the time to. How Jaemin sings you Little Star when you can't sleep.

You can't ruin this.

Even if you want to.

Oh-oh, oh-oh And if I wanted, I would have you, but not now Oh-oh, oh-oh If you want to wait, it snows in the spring

"Jaemin, best friends don't kiss," you reply.

His voice cracks, "Is that all you see me as?"

The air is sucked out of the room, tensions have risen and continue to rise, and all you can pay attention to is the throbbing of your head and Kali Uchis' voice.

It's not you, it's me, it's me Disappointments, I have lots It's not you, it's me, it's me Don't fall in love, I break hearts

You don't know what he wants you to say. You're treading in mucky waters. Doomed if you do, doomed if you don't. What are you supposed to do?

"Are we not best friends?"

The colour leaves Jaemin's face, his smile dropping immediately at your answer.

Wrong move.

Jaemin shifts so he can leave the bed, your head raising just as fast as he leaves.

"Where are you going?" you ask, getting up to follow him as he leaves the room.

"I need some air," Jaemin mumbles. He's quicker than you, already halfway descended down the stairs. He doesn't turn back to look at you, eyes cast to the ground.

The vibration of the bass hits you all at once, and you fall over. Pushing yourself off the ground, you scramble to follow him, but you find that you can't find him in the crowds of the common areas. A door slams, but you can't make out which direction it came from.

You scramble back to Mark's room and sit on the bed, knees tucked under your body as you send Giselle texts.

» y/n <3 [1:13]: can you come pick me up

» y/n <3 [1:13]: might have royally fucked up

You're breathing heavy from running up and down the stairs. Your heart won't stop racing, neither will your mind. You don't understand what just happened. You can't piece the puzzle together and it frustrates you to no end.

The moment replays in your brain.

"Have you ever thought of kissing me?"

Why didn't you just say yes? Why didn't you just kiss him? Why did you have to rationalize it? Why don't you just let yourself do what you've been doing from the beginning? Live in the moment, feel, and don't think.

» gigi <3 [1:32]: i'm here bb

You gather your things and take a deep breath. You force yourself out of Mark's room and shut the door behind you, going as slow as you possibly can. Maybe if you go slow, time will stop and you could find Jaemin somewhere around the house. Maybe if you find him, you could apologize to him and he could clear things up for you. Maybe...

Maybe you should stop thinking about it for now.

"Are you ready to go?" a voice asks from behind you. You spin to find Giselle. You must look anguished because she immediately takes your face into her hands, concern painting her features. "Are you okay?"

If your heart could sink any deeper it does. You were trying to protect your friendship with Jaemin, but you ended up breaking both your hearts. Yours on purpose, and his unintentionally. You just don't understand how.

even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise. — victor hugo

You find yourself at Jaemin's apartment at six in the morning, after not sleeping at all that night. You must look like complete shit, because Jeno gapes at you.

"Did something happen? Why do you look like someone just killed your mom?" he asks, holding Luna in his arms.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, not even wanting to remember last night, "Something happened with Jaemin last night and I wanted to... I want to apologize to him. Is he here?"

Jeno shakes his head, "He didn't come home. I thought he went home with you."

Shit.

"Oh. Okay. Um. Thanks, Jeno," you mumble. "Did you kill all of the baby spiders?"

"Not yet, there's still a few more left," he says. He points to the wall behind you and you turn, your eyes meeting a giant tarantula climbing up the wall. "That's Taurus. Jaemin named him."

That's a very Jaemin thing to do.

"Well. I should get going," you say. "Bye Jeno. Bye Luna. Bye... Taurus."

Jeno walks you to the door and closes it behind you. If Jaemin isn't home, where else would he be? Would he be at Renjun's? Haechan's? Karina's? You don't know, but you've gotta try.

Renjun looks at you blankly when he opens his door, "Why would Jaemin be here?"

You shrug, "Maybe he's trying learn about bioengineering for free." You lean in and try to look around Renjun's apartment. "Are you sure he's not here?"

"Why would I lie, Y/N?" Renjun grunts. He walks away from the threshold and lets you in. You waddle around his apartment, checking behind his couch, looking underneath his bed, and peeking behind his shower curtain. There are no signs of Jaemin anywhere.

You walk back to his front door, defeated, "Thanks, Renjun. I guess."

Renjun taps your shoulder halfheartedly, "Hope you find him. And hope you fix this little lovers' quarrel."

You scoff and close the door behind you. Whatever does he mean by that?

Haechan doesn't even blink at you, when he says, "Jaemin is not here. It is 7:30 in the morning on a Saturday. Leave."

So you do leave. Your feet take you to Karina's apartment just three floors below Haechan's and she lets you into her apartment immediately. She forces you down on her recliner and shoves a cup of hot chocolate into your hand.

She sits across from you, slouched over on her coffee table as she looks at you with her big eyes, "So, what's wrong?"

You don't know where to begin, so you start from the beginning, "I'm in love with Jaemin."

Karina smiles, "Everyone knows that."

"And I wanted to save our friendship, so when he asked me if I ever thought of kissing him, I said best friends don't kiss. And he was like 'is that all you see me as?' and then I said 'are we not?' and then he, um, ran away," you explain.

Karina nods. And she closes her eyes. And she processes what you just said. She stays that way for the better part of five minutes. You're scared she's fallen asleep on you.

But as you're about to put your mug down, she opens her eyes, and she looks at you. "You know how when you're a kid," she begins, "and something big just happened and you know that no one can help you, except that one person? Like your mom. Or your dad. Whoever that is for Jaemin, he's probably there."

She's making a lot of sense. It would make more sense for Jaemin to go running into the arms of his grandma for comfort, rather than the people in your friend group. Jaemin goes to her every time he needs a taste of home. You know exactly where to go now.

You finish the remnants of your hot chocolate, slamming the mug down on the side table, and get up with a newly found confidence. You thank Karina and bolt out the door, already hyping yourself up to see the love of your life.

—

The drive to Jaemin's grandma's house is long. In fact, it's over 45 minutes long and you're stuck on the freeway for most of it. Seoul and its neighbouring suburbs be damned.

You park in front of her villa, bringing your keys and your wallet with you. Taking a breath, you push through the gate. You aren't really sure if you want to do this. What if his grandma throws you back out on to the street and chases you out of her house with a broom? What if she threatens to kill you? Even worse, what if she does kill you? What happens then?

You need to shake your head to rid yourself of these outrageous thoughts. You're so dramatic, a typical drama student. But Jaemin would encourage you.

Inside, you find Jaemin's grandma peeling pears on her deck. The screen door remains open and you can see the Saturday morning news playing on the TV. She looks up at you and she gives you a bright smile, one that looks exactly like Jaemin's.

"Y/N! Welcome, welcome. Sit down on the deck. Do you want a drink? Do you want some pears? Sit down, I'll get you some snacks," she rambles. You help her get up, taking a seat yourself, and wait for her to come back. She comes back with a tray with honey covered snack twists and a cup of warm water. She takes a while to sit back down, but when she does, she looks at you with love. "Are you here to see Jaemin?"

You take a snack twist and take a bite, chewing slowly to savour the flavour, "Thank you so much, grandma. And yes, is he here?"

Across the courtyard, a door opens, and out comes Na Jaemin, the one with the lopsided smile, in all of his bedheaded glory. His eyes aren't even open as he steps out into the courtyard. He takes a seat on the concrete and tilts his face up to the sky.

His grandma just tsks at him, "Jaemin, you have a guest."

"Not now," he mumbles. "I'm photosynthesizing."

His grandma scowls at him then turns back to you with a smile, "There's finally a girl at my home and he stares up at the sky like a fool. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Jaemin's eyes pop open at the mention of your name and he finally rubs the sleep out of his eyes, pushing himself off the ground and walking towards you. "Can we have some privacy, grandma?"

Wordlessly, she makes her way into the living room, sliding the screen door shut and turning off the TV. Jaemin takes his seat in front of you and takes a bite out of the semi-peeled pear.

"Jaemin— I, um," you stutter. You don't know where to begin.

"Y/N. It's okay. You can just say you don't have feelings for me. I was wrong about you," Jaemin mumbles. His eyes don't meet yours, but you can tell he's defeated. His shoulders are slumped and his posture is shit. "Maybe I was delusional."

Your eyes widen, "What do you mean?"

Jaemin lets out a bittersweet chuckle, "Why do you look at me like that if you don't love me? Why do you look at me like I'm the reason there are stars in the sky? Why do you look at me like I'm the moon and you're the tides, being pulled by me? Why do you look at me like you hold every ounce of love for me in your gaze?"

"Jaemin, I—"

"I'm in love with you, Y/N," Jaemin states.

It's almost comical how you drop your snack twist and it falls off the deck and on to the concrete below. Your eyes widen even more and your jaw drops and your heart races like it never has before.

Your best friend is in love with you.

And last night he was trying to tell you.

But you're extremely stupid.

"Say that again," you say.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N. And I thought you were in love with me too— with the way you looked at me, the way you smiled at me, and your laugh— oh, god, your laugh. I thought those were for me. I was a fool. I was mistaken," Jawmin admits, sadly.

You want to cry. You want to cry really badly and you want to tell him that you've loved him all this time and that he was right.

You were wrong.

You knew Jaemin like that back of your hand, but it seems you didn't know him enough to realize that he was in love with you too.

Instead, Jaemin knew you like the back of his hand. He could tell that you loved him; from your actions, your gestures, your habits. But it was you who told him otherwise.

"I told you that I didn't want to bring just any girl home to my grandma. I wanted to bring her someone who felt like home. I wanted to bring you home to her," he continues.

It feels like your heart is breaking, but at the same time, it isn't. Your best friend is confessing to you and you're learning that you've just broken his heart.

"So I guess, if you're rejecting me, which I think you are, please do it gently. Please don't break me," he finishes. His voice is so soft, like he's about to cry.

You take the pear out of his hand, placing it back on the tray, and intertwine your fingers, giving him a determined look.

"Jaemin," you begin, voice equally as soft, "I've been in love with you for the longest time. Since the eighth grade."

Jaemin finally looks at you and you break; the tears that were lining your eyes now spilling down your face.

"And I— I thought you would never feel the same way, so I convinced myself that being best friends with you was enough. Even if I couldn't have all of you, I could have a piece and that was good enough for me. I didn't know that you felt the same way," you sniffle. "I'm sorry. I'm a fool. I'm sorry."

Jaemin looks at you like you're made of light; his hands grip yours like you're a piece of delicate glass. He pulls a hand away to trace a line underneath your eye, disrupting the flow of your tears, as he smiles at you.

"You're so dumb. You seriously couldn't tell I've loved you for years now?" he asks.

"No," you sob. "I'm actually so stupid."

Jaemin lets out a laugh and he makes his way over to you, pulling your form into his embrace and kissing the top of your head. He smiles down at you, your watery eyes meeting his, "Can I kiss you now?"

"Please," you breathe.

Jaemin leans down, one of his hands coming to cradle the back of your head as he pulls you closer. Your eyes close as your lips meet, the softest pressure pressed to your mouth. Letting out a content sigh, you pull away, only to have Jaemin press another kiss to your lips. You know just from the first two kisses that this is something you could get addicted to. His lips are plush against yours, the best thing you think you've ever felt before.

When you finally pull away, you raise an eyebrow at Jaemin, "What was the second one for?"

"It's not fair. Haechan got to kiss you twice," he pouts.

You laugh and his pout disappears instantly, lips pulled into a smile as you look up at him, "We had to do it for class. Did I ever tell you I was so sad that you couldn't be my first kiss?"

Jaemin's eyes widen in realization, "I can make up for that!"

You laugh again, noticing Jaemin's gaze soften. "Thank god. Now bring me to bed. I haven't slept at all."

Jaemin salutes you, pulling your body into his embrace, "You got it, boss!"

and i love you, i love you, i love you - and perhaps this is how the whole enormous world, shining all over, can be created - out of five vowels and three consonants. — vladimir nabokov

Jaemin pulls your wallet out of your purse, opening it to look at the polaroid of him and his cats. He frowns, "You know you should really change this to a family portrait."

"But I really like that one," you whine. "Your hair's pink and you look so cute with Lucy in your lap."

"Yeah, but how can you carry this around knowing that their mom is not in the picture?" Jaemin rebuttals.

Renjun takes his seat beside Jaemin, angrily chomping on a string bean, "You know, I get that you two are together now, but please, not in public."

"I have to," Jaemin states, "How else is everyone going to know that Y/N is mine and I am hers and we are each other's homes?"

Okay, maybe a part of you regrets telling Jaemin that you think he's your home, but he's got pure intentions. Maybe.

"Ugh, I'm gonna sit over there with Jeno and Haechan," Renjun mumbles. He tucks the string bean into his mouth and picks up his tray, stomping towards Jeno.

Jaemin just turns towards you, and he looks at you like you're made of light, and smiles, "You're my home."

You laugh, "And you're mine."

"And I love you."

"And I love you too."

Maybe you were a little foolish, believing that your best friend would never feel the same way about you, but when Jaemin's looking at you like that, there's no way you could ever doubt his feelings.

hello !! i was previously hyetomi which is now hye-tomi ! i moved because that was my secondary blog .. i had to change accounts 😓😓😓 pls help like and reblog tysm !!

oh, so oblivious!

In which you and Yangyang are ever so oblivious about your feelings towards each other, but worry not, the Liu family comes to your rescue!

♦ Characters: best friend’s little brother!Yangyang x reader/you

♦ Genre: fluff, comedy, uni au

♦ Words: 3.9k

♦ A/N: Dedicated to the loveliest best friend one could ask for, the one who’s in denial about the younger biases until she can’t take it aka @lily-blue​! Hope you have the best birthday ever! Stay healthy, happy and wishing you lots of joy, luck, happiness, many more biases and kdramas that we can watch together! Love you to the Moon and back! 💖

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what you do to me

✩ yangyang x reader | fluff | friends to lovers | 1.1k 

SUMMARY ⇾ when you come over to check-up on a sick yangyang, he confesses his feelings for you. WARNINGS ⇾ swearing; usage, mentions, and jokes of prescription drugs and medicine; mentions of drinking, dejun is irresponsible and gives too many meds to yangyang RATING ⇾ teen+ TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen​​ REQ BY ⇾ anonymous (informally) PROMPT ⇾ friends to lovers + yangyang is sick and clingy

Gently opening the bedroom door open, you’re greeted by the sight of Yangyang bundled up under the covers beside his mountain of stuffed animals. He raises his head slightly from the pillow, blinking hazily with a goofy smile towards your direction.

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