#na jaemin angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ningningsdream · 1 year

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everyone’s but no one’s | n.jm

pairing: fuckboy!jaemin x college student!reader (ft. sungchan)

genre: college!au, roommates-to-lovers!au, fluff, angst

word count: 19.4k

description: in which your roommate is the guy every girl on campus either slept with or want to sleep with and you have had bad experiences with fuckboys before.

warning(s): alcohol, mention of sex, mention of past relationship traumas (cheating, lying)

taglist; @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @sugazwrld (only tagged the people that seemed to be active still, tell me if you want to be removed or added for the next ones)

a/n: this is apart of my new series of roommates-to-lovers with the dreamies, sweet life. i feel like this one is so messy.

main masterlist

suddenly changing university in the middle of your first year was definitely something you didn’t plan but unfortunately the course you chose for your second semester was suddenly moved to their other uni in seoul and apparently they ‘forgot’ to inform the students so a bunch of you had to prepare to move to seoul for the last or change your course. you took some time to decide because you really wanted to stay where you were. the uni was not that far from your house, so you didn’t need to move into a dorm which save you lots of money but on the other hand, you were really excited for that course. so you decided to pack enough clothes for a few days and went to seoul during your summer break, in search of a place to stay.

once you were in seoul, you quickly visited the university you were soon going to attend and asked the secretary if there was any way for you to know if someone on campus needed a roommate. the male assistant directed you towards a board where papers with numbers of students searching for a roommate were scatter. you picked a few tickets with numbers on them along with a picture of their respective flyer.

all you wanted was to find someone nice enough to accept you as a roommate, someone you could maybe be friends with and hang out with. you didn't expect to 'audition' to be one, but at this point, you spent almost your whole summer break looking for a place to stay and you were desperate. you’ve called multiple people, but it seemed like the university didn’t update the board at all because most of the people you ended up calling had either already found someone or moved out of their old place. only one person responded positively to your call but what happened afterwards was pretty unusual. you had to answer multiple questions and pass multiple 'rounds' to finally have someone telling you they'll call you back. you were almost sure you went to the wrong place until one day, when you were watching netflix on the couch of your airbnb, someone called you and told you that you were 'selected' to be the new roommate.

you thought that the process was really weird, i mean who says, 'you've been selected to move in'.

at first, you thought that maybe it was all a scam and that maybe you were going to be kidnap but the guy who asked you all the questions seemed to be around your age and quite nice.

the next day, you took your suitcase, that contained all the things you could bring to seoul, and took a taxi to your new apartment. the building was pretty far from your university, so you had to take the public transportation, but you were okay with it because it was the only place that was available and affordable for your broke ass. it was a pretty simple apartment building with two elevators and a guard. you thanked god for the entrance that was facing an open street rather than an alleyway.

you knocked on the door with one hand while the other one was resting on the mini pepper spray in your pocket just in case. a pretty cute guy opened the door greeting you with a smile, ”oh you must be y/n, right?”, he asked after spotting your suitcase. you nodded and he stepped aside, opening the door wider for you to come in.

“nice to meet you...?”

“jaemin, na jaemin.”, he gave you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“nice to meet you, jaemin. not to be rude but are you living here too? i thought the guy who asked me all the questions the other day was the only one living here.”

“oh, chenle? nah, his apartment is much nicer than this one. i just asked him to take in some candidatures while i was working and from what i've heard he went a little overboard with the interviews...”

you chuckled at his words. 'overboard' was indeed a way to describe chenle's method.

jaemin then showed you your room and you were happy that it already had all the furniture you needed so that you wouldn’t have to waste more time furniture shopping. you told your new roommate that all of your other stuff were arriving tomorrow just so that he wouldn’t be surprised by the temporary mess that will be present in the living room in a few hours.

you woke up to an empty apartment and a note on the kitchen counter.

hey, i went to work and i’ll be back this afternoon. i made breakfast, it’s still on the stove. enjoy~ -your cute roommate ;)

you tasted the food jaemin left for you, and it was surprisingly really good. you didn’t expect him to be that good of a cook.

when you received a call from the driver of the moving truck your parents hired, you immediately made your way down to the front of the building and were welcomed by a nice looking man by the name of taeil, he even helped you carry them in and out of the elevator on your floor. you thanked the man as he left and started to carry your boxes from the hallways into your living room. after some time, you really started to curse yourself for having so many things, your arms started to ache and your back started to hurt a little. you almost had a heart attack every time the elevator opened and one of your neighbors stepped out, giving you a weird look.

“oh my god, you scared me!”, you jumped at the sudden interruption in your silence, almost dropping the box in your hands, “do you want some help?”, he said, holding his arms out so you could give him the box.

“it’s okay, i’m almost done anyway.”, you gave the stranger a smile.

“alright. i’m hyunjin by the way. you’re jaemin’s new roommate, right?”

“yeah, are you going to seoul marketing as well?"

hyunjin nodded, "what are you majoring in?"

"international exchange and you?"

"business administration.", he answered as you arrived in front of your respective door, "well see around and...good luck...with jaemin.", he smirked, knowingly.

you furrowed your eyebrows, understanding that he was implying something but not knowing what it was, "what do you mean?"

"well...you know...", he smiled, eyes expressing something you couldn't decipher. upon seeing the look on your face, his expression changed to one of confusion, "you don't?"

"i just transfer from the gwangju branch so i don't really know anything about what's going on here."

"oooh.", hyunjin nodded as he understood now why you didn't know what everybody knew, "well, jaemin's a pretty notorious fuckboy and you being...", he said, his hand showing you.

" i see. i'll keep that in mind, thanks.", you said before entering your new apartment.

you really couldn't escape them, could you?

"hey, roommie! dinner's ready!", jaemin called you from the kitchen.

you walked into the kitchen confused as you saw jaemin setting two plates down onto the small table for two.

"oh. you didn't have to. i was going to order something.", you said, feeling guilty.

"i'm saving you money. we're student, we're broke."

jaemin wasn't wrong. you didn't often eat out but since you spent your whole day opening boxes and arranging your room, you were too tired to make yourself something to eat, plus, you didn't have time to go grocery shopping.

"you should have called me to help you.", you said.

"it's alright. consider this a welcome diner.", he smiled in a way that made you wonder how that soft face of his could be one of a fuckboy.

you sat opposite him and looked at the pasta dish in front of you.

"i made gochugang pasta."

"gochugang pasta?"

the combo sounded weird to you but gochugang and pasta were good separately so why not together. you picked up the fork by your plate and tasted jaemin's dish. you didn't notice but he patiently waited for your reaction. as soon as the pasta touched your taste buds, your eyes widened in surprise. you chew and nodded at the same time, "woah. that's really good!", you complimented.

jaemin smiled in satisfaction, saying, "glad you like it, i got the recipe from a friend."

you continued to eat in silence for a while before jaemin broke it, "what are you majoring in?"

"international exchange, what about you?", you asked.

"retail communication. why did you...transfer here, if you don't mind me asking?", jaemin was quite hesitant to ask since it could be a sensitive topic.

"a course i chose for this semester was moved to seoul so i decided to move with it. it was either that or change it to something boring so..."

"i see. tomorrow's your first day, right? i can give you a ride to campus if you want."

"oh you don't have to-"

"i insist. it'll be dumb to let you use public transports when i can just drive you. it's not like it's somewhere i wasn't going too."

"thanks...again."

what your neighbor told you have been on your mind the moment you closed the door to your apartment after speaking with him. you've frequented a handful of fuckboys in your life so you knew to stay away from them. you didn't know what type of fuckboy jaemin's was yet but you sure were going to be careful and not get involve more than necessary with him.

the next day when you arrived on campus with jaemin by your side, some people stared at the two of you, whispering among themselves, thinking you wouldn't be able to hear.

"who is that?"

"probably his new toy of the moment."

"too bad, i was hoping it'll be my turn."

"just wait a week and he'll be over her."

you rolled your eyes, annoyed by all the stares and whispers. you really hated how people could be so foul behind your back. jaemin noticed and felt guilty since his reputation was impacting you.

"you know the way to your first class, right?", jaemin asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts. you nodded, taking your schedule out of your tote bag, "okay, see you later, ROOMMATE.", he almost shouted the last word, shutting down all whispers. you smiled at him in gratitude before walking to your first class of the semester.

you took a seat in the middle rows of the auditorium waiting for the class to start.

"hey. is this place available?", someone asked, pointing to the seat next to yours. you nodded and the person smiled at you, sitting down, "i'm ryujin, by the way. everyone seemed to be with their own friends so i hope you don't mind me being next to you."

"not at all. i actually just transferred here so i literally just know my roommate."

"oh really?"

"i'm y/n, by the way."

"who's your roommate? maybe i know them."

"everyone seems to know him...", you said, "na jaemin is my roommate."

"oh.", ryujin's eyes widen as she stayed silent for a second, her lips forming the letter 'o'.

"is he that bad?"

"he is not bad...just very very popular."

"i heard he was a fuckboy but i didn't think it would be that big of a thing. people stared at me when we arrived together this morning, like we were some kind of reality show or something."

"he's not just 'a' fuckboy, he's 'the' fuckboy. he practically put out of business 90% of the fuckboys in this uni."

"what really?", you didn't know if you should be impressed or disgusted.

ryujin nodded at your statement, "everyone knows though that if they get with him, it's not gonna last. of course, some are still delusional and think they can 'change him'."

you nodded, acknowledging her words. you couldn't judge those girls, having been of that same path too many times.

your professor entered the room, silencing every conversation going on. you focused on your class, pushing all thoughts concerning your roommate to the back of your mind.

going grocery shopping after class, want to come?

jaemin texted you during your last class.

sure

you responded. you needed to go grocery shopping anyway since you just moved in and had nothing to feed yourself at the apartment. so you found yourself in the snack aisle with jaemin by your side, helping him debate whether or not he should buy two packets of gummies or only one.

"you know what? take your time. i'll go get some other things.", you said before walking to another aisle.

after five good minutes on debating with himself, jaemin put one gummy packet down and went on his way to find you with the shopping cart. he spotted you in front of a sample stand, jumping up and down, looking at what an ahjumma was making.

"what got you all excited, bunny?", he asked with a grin as he stopped the shopping cart near you.

you didn't notice the nickname he called you, being too focused on the ahjumma, "they have those dumplings here!", you said, excitedly pointing at the food, "i grew up eating those."

the ahjumma smiled at your excitement and so did jaemin. she cut a piece of dumpling in two, stabbing them with two toothpicks.

"here, try it.", you handed one to jaemin as you ate yours, but the boy just ate it from the toothpick you were holding instead of taking it himself, making you feed him, "woah, tastes just like i remember it. do we have some place in the freezer?"

jaemin thought about it for a moment before nodding.

"i'll take two bags of these, please!", you smiled at the ahjumma.

"aigoo~ aren't you two a cute couple? your girlfriend is really cute!", she cooed, giving jaemin the bags of dumplings.

your eyes widened at the remark, ready to politely correct the lady but jaemin beat you to it, "yeah, isn't she?"

that wasn't what you expected him to say. you gave him a look of confusion as he ignored you, smiling at the ahjumma.

"aigoo~ here, take this!", she handed you a coupon for a discount on the dumplings you were going to buy.

"thank you!", you both bowed to the older woman before walking away.

"what was that?", you asked.

"what was what?"

"that whole girlfriend/couple thing?"

"calm down. didn't want to make the ahjumma sad, did you? plus, we got a discount. a friend of mine told me things like that work."

you two got in line to pay your groceries and when jaemin put a separator between his snacks and your groceries, you removed it, saying, "i'll pay for your snacks."

"no, it's fine.", he said, reaching out for the separator you put back but you stopped by grabbing his wrist.

"i'm paying. take it as a thank you for the dinner last night and for driving me to uni today."

"well, you're welcome, and thank you.", jaemin smiled.

you understood why jaemin was so popular. you just had to look at him. his dyed blonde hair always looked perfect, having that messy but sexy style. his personality seemed sweet as well, at least on the outside. if you'd have met him a couple years back, you would have totally fell for him.

"by the way, i usually go grocery shopping on saturdays, every other week. just tell me if you'll want to tag along.", jaemin told you.

"hey, bunny, we're having a movie night wanna join?", jaemin asked you, popping his head in your room through your door.

"who's we? and stop with the nicknames.", you whined, getting up from your bed and opening your door fully before getting out.

"how can i when your reaction's so cute?", jaemin said, making you roll your eyes.

one thing you learned about jaemin from living with him 24/7 was that it was in his second nature to flirt. one of his flirting habits was giving people nicknames. he had called you many since you started living together. from roommie to babe to baby to bunny. bunny was the one he used the most on daily basis. it was weird at first since you thought he was hitting on you or something but you learned that it was just something he was used to doing when you heard him call other people nicknames as well. it even made you wonder if he didn't just forget the names.

"does he always have to be like that?", you asked no one in particular as you walked to the living room.

"always and that's not the worse of him.", a third party sitting on your couch said.

"jeno, this is bunny. bunny, this is my friend, jeno."

"i'm y/n.", you quickly corrected, "so what are we watching?"

"the last violet evergarden movie."

"ooh, so we're gonna need tissues.", you walked to the kitchen table and grabbed the box of tissues on it to put it on your coffee table in front of your couch.

you didn't expect the first person to shed tears to be jaemin. he was full on sobbing, monopolizing the box of tissue to himself. jeno and you gave each other a look before looking back at jaemin who was sitting between the two of you.

"aiya, stop sobbing so hard, we can't hear the movie.", you joked, patting his shoulder.

"you can read the subtitles. i'm saaaad!", jaemin whined while dropping side ways, his head landing on your lap as he kicked his feet on jeno's lap. you were surprised by the gesture at first and looked at jeno to see his reaction.

his friend looked like he was used to it and kept watching the movie. feelings eyes on him, he turned to face you and you just looked down at jaemin and back at jeno with a questioning look.

'you'll get used to it.', jeno mouthed to you before returning his attention to the tv.

you sighed, looking down at the boy on your lap, "get snot on my pajamas and i'll make you cry harder than this movie.", you warned, even thought your whispers were soft, your threat was very real.

you put your hands on top of his head, having no where else to put them since jaemin literally took all the space that was available. your focus was back on the movie completely forgetting jaemin's head until you realized one of your hands was stroking his hair softly. you immediately stopped the habit you picked up through your years of dating and crossed your arms over your chest to stop yourself from doing it again. you thought you heard a whine before jaemin raised one of his arms and waved it around in your direction. you frowned, grabbing it to stop him from hitting you right in the face by inadvertence. jaemin's other hand grabbed your hand holding his arm and put it back in his hair. you didn't move at first, not really sure of what he wanted. jaemin started moving his head around and you finally understood, he just wanted you to play with his hair again. it's been a while since you've been this domestic and to be honest you kind of missed it.

no.

stop thinking about that.

when the credits started rolling, jaemin sat right up, declaring, "i need to drink and talk about my feelings.", he was being dramatic about the feelings part and just wanted to chitchat.

"i don't drink but i'm down for the talk.", you shrugged.

"sorry, gotta go. roommate emergency.", jeno said, raising his phone.

jeno bid his goodbyes and left your roommate and you alone, "still down for drinks and gossip?", jaemin asked you.

"sure.", you said from the couch, stretching your legs on it.

"what do you want to drink?", jaemin asked from the kitchen as he stood in front of the open fridge.

"i bought a bottle of peach juice. it's coral."

"got it!", you heard him open your cupboards in search for glasses, "do you want a glass, a cup or...?"

"just give me a soju glass as well.", your turned to look at jaemin to see him already looking at you with furrowed eyebrows, "what? it's so you wouldn't feel alone."

"gee, thanks.", jaemin said, sarcastically, as he made his way back to the living room.

"thank you.", you said, as jaemin put everything down onto the table.

"you don't drink at all?"

"i do drink sometimes. i cut back on the alcohol because i used to drink my brains out and forget everything that happened after my fifth drink.", you sat up, reaching for the bottle of peach juice.

"understandable. what kind of drunk are you?", jaemin asked, sitting on the couch.

"from what i heard, i'm quite the hoe but again i was always horny so that may have contributed. i haven't been drunk in a while, you? what kind of drunk is the infamous fuckboy na jaemin?"

jaemin rolled his eyes at the title, "you can say i'm quite the hoe as well."

"shocker.", you said, sarcastically.

jaemin rolled his eyes again, "not nice, bunny. i just get clingy. don't mind me if i start hugging you, you can just push me away."

"i'm fine with that as long as you don't try to get in my pants."

"me? i'm not like that, bunny.", he said jokingly making you two laugh, "more seriously, when i'm drunk drunk, i'm never horny, that's why i don't drink a lot at parties.", he winked at the end which made you make an exaggerated gagging expression.

"anyway, how have you been acclimating so far?"

"good. i made some friends, shin ryujin and yoo jimin.", you stopped in your story, as something came to your mind, "did you fuck them?"

"mmmh, haven't fucked them...yet.", he said the last word with a grin after moving his upper body closer to you.

"you're disgusting.", you said, pushing his head back.

"i was jokiiing!", he whined, rubbing his forehead and taking a shot of soju as you rolled your eyes.

"so what's your fuckboy story?", you asked, sipping on your peach juice.

"fuckboy story?", jaemin looked at you with a confused look. you could see he was already a bit tipsy thanks to his rosy cheeks.

"every fuckboy has that one girl that broke them so much that they take their revenge by using the rest of the female population?"

"that's...", jaemin stopped himself, struggling to find a word to describe what he wanted to say, "anyway, i don't have one.", he said, giving up.

"what do you mean you don't have one? you're just being a jerk without any reason?"

"you're hurting my little heart with your harsh words.", jaemin said, placing his hands on the left side of his chest with a pout on his face.

jaemin looked really cute right now. you had to give him credit when it was due.

"do you even have one?", you were only joking when you said this but then jaemin started to bawl his eyes out. you thought he was joking at first, but when the tears didn't stop, you started to wonder if the two bottles of soju he just consumed made him more sensitive, "woah, woah, woah. i was just joking! stop crying, please?", you panicked. you put your glass down and scooted closer to your roommate, "jaemin, stop please.", you shook his shoulders softly to get his attention but he didn't stop, continuing to sob loudly, "pretty, pleeaase?", you decided to stroke his ego and it worked.

the cries suddenly stopped and jaemin looked at you with a big smile, "you called me pretty!"

you looked at him with a deadpanned look on your face, "come on. time to stop drinking. it's getting late and you're obviously drunk.", you grabbed your two empty glasses and bottles of soju along with your peach juice and put them away in the kitchen, quickly washing the glasses.

you expected jaemin to be sleeping in his room after you finished tidying things up but he was still sitting on the couch.

"jaemin...what did i say?", you put your fists on your hips like a mom scolding her child.

"but i don't want to sleep.", jaemin whined.

"we have class tomorrow, you have to sleep."

"bu-"

"no buts. come on.", you grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. thankfully, he didn't resist at all or you'd have struggled a lot more with your non existent strength.

you tucked him in bed and turned around to go back to your room but jaemin stopped you, asking, "where are you going?"

"back to my room? to sleep?"

"why can't you sleep here?", jaemin whined, patting the empty space next to him.

"because we're not that close."

"why can't we be?"

"because.", you saw jaemin pout even more at your answer and sighed. you walked towards him again and patted his head, "goodnight, jaemin. i'm going to choke you if you don't go to sleep."

"i'd like that.", jaemin muttered before closing his eyes and cuddling into his covers.

that night you discovered a new side to your roommate and you much preferred that side to the one he usually showed. and jaemin kept thinking about your question. that one girl he will never forget.

"hey, bunny. i'm going out, don-", jaemin shouted from the living room but got interrupted by you walking into room with a different than usual kind of outfit on.

"oh, you're going out too? is it 127's party?", you asked after looking at his outfit.

"yeah...", he didn't really listen to what you were saying, he just heard your last words and guessed that you were talking about the party. his eyes were too busy, scanning your figure. you were wearing a black bodycon dress with a long mesh top underneath, knee high platforms and your makeup was more suited to a night outing.

you noticed jaemin staring when you continued talking but he didn't seem to respond, and rolled your eyes, "can you turn off your fuckboy mode for one second?"

"i just didn't know you could dress up like that, princess.", the smirk on his face made you roll your eyes one more time, "what were you saying?"

"i'm going to sleep at ryujin and jimin's tonight and are you heading to the party now? to know if you could give me a ride.."

you ended up going with jaemin, texting jimin that she didn't have to pick you up. when you arrived at the party and managed to find your friends, you never saw jaemin again at that party.

since you didn't drink anymore, you were automatically the designated driver. jimin gave you her keys and the three of you had a lot of fun all night.

you met ryujin on your first day on campus and you two got along immediately. she was the one who caught you up on all the dramas going on on campus. that same day, you met jimin, ryujin's friend and roommate, who also became your friend. she was like a mom to you and took great care of ryujin and you, her two insufferable children. the two of them were worried about you living with the uni's ultimate fuckboy at first but you reassured them by telling them that you had no interest in a frugal relationship and their worries decreased as the weeks went by.

jimin was the one from whom you've learned more about jaemin's past. it was during lunch when you witnessed a scene between jaemin and his, then, current hook up. she had slapped him and ran away, hiding her face, probably crying.

"poor girl. another victim on na jaemin's list.", ryujin said, shaking her head before returning to her food.

"it's crazy how things can change.", jimin said, eyes following the girl who ran out of the cafeteria.

"what do you mean?", you asked her.

"i was in high school with jaemin and he wasn't like that back then.", you gave her a look that meant you wanted to know more, "he was quite popular back then as well but he always declined every confession he received, all really politely without sleeping with them first or anything. rumors spread about him dating someone secretly or having a crush on someone."

after hearing that, you found your roommate more mysterious than you thought him to be. at first, he seemed like some random fuckboy but the more you saw of him, the more he intrigued you.

a slap on your shoulder caught your attention.

"i don't feel so good...", ryujin screamed for you and jimin to hear as you three were dancing in the middle of the crowd.

you two stopped and looked at your friend, worried, "told you to not drink that last mix you made.", you said, shaking your head.

"do you want to throw up?", jimin asked.

ryujin shook her head, "no, i think i just need some fresh air."

"you go out front, first. i'll grab some water.", you said to jimin who seemed to still be able to act and think clearly.

luckily, the kitchen's fridge was also filled with some water bottles so you grabbed three and closed the door. turning around, you almost bumped into someone.

"oh!", the other person grabbed your shoulders to stop you from falling backwards, "i was going to ask you if you wanted a drink but i see that you helped yourself already.", the boy in front of you smiled.

you looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out if you knew him or not and he seemed to have picked up on it, "i'm sungchan by the way. we're in some classes together."

you nodded with a smile, "i'm y/-"

"y/n, yeah, i know.", he interrupted you, "sorry, i've been meaning to come and talk to you sooner but never seemed to know what to say.", he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. you thought he was cute.

"i'm sorry, i really have to get these to my friends.", you said, really apologetically, "but feel free to come and talk to me and my friends whenever.", you smiled before walking away. you hoped he'll come talk to you in class.

you made your way to the front yard of the frat house where ryujin and jimin were waiting for you. ryujin was lying on the grass with jimin by her side.

"hey, sorry i bumped into someone.", you said, giving them a water bottle each, "how are you feeling?"

"better.", ryujin said after gulping down 1/3 of the bottle.

"i just realized that this is our first party together.", jimin said.

"i must admit, i'm not much of a party girl anymore.", you said.

"oh really?", ryujin asked with wide eyes.

"yeah. i was the worse. i'm a lightweight but i used to drink so much, it was insane. sometimes i wonder how am i even still alive.", you joked.

"woah, i'd never think you'd be that kind of girl if you didn't tell me.", jimin commented.

"yeah, me neither."

"why did you stop?", jimin asked.

"drinking and partying too much led me to make many bad decisions on the moment.", you vaguely answered, not really in the mood to go in detail.

"i also just realized something.", ryujin said as she seemed to have sober up, "you never talk about your past. i mean you just transferred here in the middle of the year. you must miss your parents, your friends,..."

"not really. my life has been quite lonely so far.", you smiled even though it wasn't a cheerful nor happy one, "i'm glad i found you guys though.", ryujin and jimin reached out for your hand and you three stayed in a comfortable silence while holding hands, until you broke it, "do you know a sungchan?"

"who? sungchan?", ryujin tapped the side of her head, trying to remember where she heard that name before, "isn't he in one of our classes or something like that?"

"that's what he said when i bumped into him earlier, along with how he wanted to come talk to me but never could."

jimin and ryujin gave each other a look before turning back to you with a mischievous smile.

"don't start.", you warned.

"you did by asking about him.", jimin teased.

"i just wanted to know if i should be careful around him."

"from what i heard, or rather not heard, he doesn't seem to be the type to break many hearts around campus.", jimin said.

the rest of the night was kind of a blur to your two friends but you did get them home safely, tucking them in bed and leaving a bucket on the side for them to use if they ever need to urgently throw up. you were supposed to stay but you really wanted to lay in your bed and you also didn't want to take care of the vomit if there ever was. you loved these girls but your friendship limit was puke. you left jimin a note, saying that you were going to take her car to drive home and that'll you'd give it back to her the next day.

once you've drove home, parked the car, got into your building and took the elevator, you stood in front of your apartment door, rummaging through your small bag, looking for your keys, "shit."

your apartment building had a really safe security system, where you needed a special badge in order to tap in the code to your home. you facepalmed yourself, remembering the exact events that led you to being left outside your own apartment. you always put your keys on the small table next to the entrance. the moment you were putting everything in your bag was also the moment you noticed jaemin staring at you. with the conversation going on with your roommate, you forgot to take your keys on your way out.

you grabbed your phone and looked for jaemin's contact. you wondered if he was still at the party or fucking someone right now. in case it was the latter, you chose to text him.

hey, i went home but forgot my keys

if you're home, open the door when your done with whoever

if you're not then hurry when you're done?

im sorry, i'll make it up to you if i ruined anything

you waited, waited and waited. your phone was almost out of battery so you decided to not use it, just in case, jaemin called you to tell you he had a magical spare key hidden somewhere. you even contemplated ringing your neighbor's doorbell but you didn't know him and it'd be weird.

your eyes were getting heavier and heavier. you tried not to fall asleep but it was getting harder every minute that passed by. your greatest mistake was allowing your eyes to close, 'resting them for five minutes'.

jaemin was checking his phone on his way out of his last night's hook up's place when his eyes widened as he saw all your messages from the previous night or rather 2am. he rushed to his car and drove back to your shared apartment as fast as he could, almost hitting a grandma on the way. drive carefully everyone.

the elevator seemed to be extremely slow at that particular moment. when it finally arrived at your floor, jaemin rushed out, his eyes landed on you, sitting on the floor, back against your shared apartment door.

"y/n! y/n!", jaemin shook you awake.

you whined, trying to curl up on yourself.

jaemin took his badge out, beeping it on the machine next to your door and taping in the digicode. jaemin moved your back from the door to open it then proceeded to carry you bridal style.

"wooh, why am i flying?!", you panicked, immediately opening your eyes to be met with your roommate's face. you almost jumped out of his arms.

"calm down, bunny. don't hop, you're gonna hurt yourself.", jaemin smiled at you, "your hands are really cold. your whole body is."

you didn't notice your hands on the back of his neck as you instinctively tried to hold onto something, feeling your body levitating.

it's about to get really hot if you don't let me down, you thought.

"put me down, please?", you asked, almost in a whisper. your throat felt really dry, having drank nothing since you left the party.

jaemin let go of you and watched you go pour yourself a glass of water as he closed your apartment door, "i thought you were sleeping at ryujin and jimin's?"

"i was supposed to, but i didn't feel like dealing with them throwing up in the middle of the night so i went home. where were you? i thought you would have taken the chance of having the apartment to yourself to bring someone over.", you said, feeling rehydrated by the water you just drank.

"i never bring people home.", jaemin clarified.

"why?"

"feels too intimate. it's my personal space."

"i see. well, i'm going to take a hot shower and sleep for awhile. if jimin drop by, tell her i parked her car near the waffle place and give her these.", you said, showing him jimin's keys before putting them on the little dinner table.

after that night, you were careful to check if you had your keys on you every time you left the house and jaemin made sure he was home after every party. even if it meant leaving the pretty stranger he just hooked up and cuddled with for some time. he wanted to make sure that whatever happened that night, never happen again. he wanted to make sure his roommate made it home safe every night.

"hey, y/n.", a voice said, as the person sat next to you while you were talking with ryujin.

"oh, hey! sungchan, right?", you greeted. the boy nodded with a little smile, "this is my friend, ryujin."

the two greeted each other with a nod.

"you don't mind me sitting here, right?", sungchan asked, talking about the seat his actually occupying.

"it's fine. it's usually just the two of us.", you replied.

"how come we've never seen you around uni before?", ryujin asked. even though the university was pretty big, someone who looked like sungchan wouldn't go unnoticed and ryujin knew she would've heard about him at least once.

"oh, i just transferred here this semester-"

"oh? you too?", you interrupted him in shock.

"you transferred here too?", sungchan asked you with wide eyes.

you nodded, "i thought i was the only one. everyone kept telling me i was crazy."

"us too! i transferred here with my friend, shotaro."

"oh? you're friend with shotaro?", ryujin suddenly asked. the boy nodded even though he seemed confused, "he's going out with my friend, chaeryeong. even though she says they are just hanging out 'as friend' for now."

"aaaah, chaeryeong! shotaro can't stop talking about her for real, i almost want to choke him every time.", sungchan joked.

"whoa, we're really living in a small world.", you laughed.

you three stopped talking when the professor entered the room, focusing on his class and what he said.

after your class, the three of you walked to the cafeteria for lunch, "want to join us for lunch?", you asked sungchan.

"sure, can shotaro come?"

"why not.", you shrugged.

"oh i'll text chaeryeong and tell her to come as well."

"oh! good idea!", sungchan and ryujin high fived each other and got on their phone to text their respective friend which made you smile.

after getting some food, you joined jimin at your usual table, "jimin-aaaah, i missed you.", ryujin cooed at her friend.

"we saw each other this morning.", jimin replied, making ryujin pout playfully.

they were joined later on by shotaro and chaeryeong who seemed taken aback when they saw each other at first but then casually slipped into a conversation of their own.

"oh my god! you had mr.kim too?!", you said as sungchan and you started talking about your old uni.

"mmh! he was my favorite i think. his way of grading paper was the funniest."

"right?! his comments were always so interesting."

"one time he wrote 'this doesn't make any sense but i see what you mean and that scares me'. i still wonder if it's a good thing or not."

you laughed at his anecdote along with him.

"i think i kept all the papers he graded because it was just too funny to throw away. once he wrote 'i am not convinced' and three lines after that he wrote 'you convinced me'. mr kim was just the best for those kind of things."

you kept talking about uni related stuff as well as the restaurants and shops surrounding the area. you found out that you had quite a lot of things in common and he was quite an easy guy to talk to.

after a long day of what seemed like endless classes and a dinner at ryujin and jimin's place, you finally got to type in the digicode to your home. you lazily hung your coat at the entrance and removed your shoes to slip your slippers on.

you didn't expect to see jaemin drinking alone in the living room.

"hey, you okay?", you asked him as he seemed to be in some kind of trance, not even noticing your arrival.

jaemin quickly snapped out of it, quickly turning his head away from you, hands reaching for his eyes. you were alarmed by his actions and quickly made your way towards the couch. you tried to look at his face but he turned his head back the other way. you sighed and tried to turn him back towards you but he resisted. you ended grabbing his head and turning his face forcefully towards you. you wonder how you didn't snap his neck. you got worried when you saw his bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks, "what happened?", you asked, sitting down next to him.

jaemin didn't answer but his mouth quickly turned into a pout and his eyes filled with tears again. you brought him in your arms and gently patted his head, letting your roommate cry in the crook of your neck.

you two weren't the closest roommates ever but you did consider him your friend. you've been living together for a few months now and had spent quite some time together from grocery shopping to cooking together to having a special night at least once a week or every two weeks to watch bridgerton together. you two grew quite fond of the show and always ended sharing the same plaid and talking about the relationships in the show.

you've never seen him cry for something else than a character death or three seconds of sad background music during an intense moment of your show, so that was new to you.

"is it that hard to believe that i am capable of getting in a relationship?", he said as he let go of you a little so you could see his face and hear him.

"well..."

jaemin sobbed even harder. it wasn't your intention to make him cry or hurt him, you just never thought that dating was something that jaemin considered, with his reputation. you thought he just wanted to live his youth.

"hey, what happened?", you asked softly.

jaemin didn't answer you and just held onto you tighter. you ran your hand through his hair in comfort, not knowing what else to do.

"you can come and talk to me anytime you want you know. i'll listen.", you offered.

you felt jaemin nod but he never told you why he cried that night.

"hurry, bunny or i'm starting without you.", jaemin shouted from the living room as you were in the kitchen. you poured the popcorn into a bowl while reading the text sungchan just sent you. jaemin noticed you smiling while holding the bowl of popcorn in one hand and typing on your phone with your other hand. he got curious when you handed him the bowl and sat next to him, not even giving him a look and still typing away on your phone.

"who are you texting?", jaemin asked in a teasing tone.

"sungchan.", you answered, putting your phone away.

"are you close? you smiled like an idiot while texting him.", he said, poking your cheek and side as he teased you.

"yah! stop!", you tried to stop his poking but failed as he managed to poke you still. after some fighting action, you managed to stop his two hands by grabbing his wrists. you pulled yourself closer to him, leaning on his side before letting go of him to grab the bowl of popcorn, "we're just friends.", you said, referring to sungchan, "he wouldn't want to date me.", you grabbed the remote and pressed play.

"why would you say that? you're a 100% dateable."

"not really.", you muttered under your breath.

it wasn't that you thought you weren't dateable. your view of love was just different from what people your age would consider normal. you've had so many failed and toxic relationship that you were scared that it was the only type of relation you could have. you also wanted something most people were scared of, even though they would never admit it; commitment.

you had gotten to know sungchan these past few weeks and you two had become quite close friends. ryujin and jimin were telling you that sungchan and you would be a really cute couple but you denied every time. not because you weren't attracted to him but as you got to know him, you discovered that he was totally the type of person you would've wanted to be your first boyfriend. he seemed too pure hearted for you to risk breaking his heart.

"you're crushing my shoulder.", jaemin complained next to you.

"could've just push me away.", you dramatically said, flying to the other end of the couch.

"nooo, come back.", he pulled onto your arm to bring you closer to him again but he pulled harder than you expected and you literally flew right onto him. your eyes went wide as you realized the position you two were in. your face was so close to his you could feel his breathing on your lips. you quickly backed away and repositioned yourself as before. jaemin didn't move for a few seconds, trying to comprehend why his heart was beating so fast when you were close to him and why it was still beating that fast when you pulled away.

you ended up, cuddling with jaemin, his arms around you, giving you warmth. from an outsider point of view, people may think that there was something going on between the two of you but it was just how you two came to act with one another. jaemin being the clingy type, you saw him back hugging his friend, jeno, when he came over to cook something or how he always found a way to pinch his younger friend's, jisung, cheeks when he came by. you just accepted his clinginess because there was no way out, you could see it on his friends' face and you also enjoy the skinship. you missed being that close with someone.

being jaemin's roommate meant that you got to witness multiple side of him that he didn't usually show in public or to people other than his close friends. he would sometimes come back home in a grumpy or sad mood and just hug you in silence. you were confused the first time it happened. it was a few days after you had found him drinking alone on your couch. you were used to his flirty side and his clinginess but nothing really prepared you for that side of him that just made you want to wrap him in a blanket and feed him some soup. above being surprised, you were worried. jaemin usually showed his cheerful and happy self so seeing him that silent with a neutral expression, worried you a lot, every time, especially because he wouldn't communicate how he felt.

once in a while, jeno, jaemin's friend who kind of became yours as well, came by to eat dinner with you two but it often ended up with you two making dinner, waiting for jaemin to get home since he recently got a part-time job.

"can you cut the onions? i'll make the rice.", you said, gathering your hair in a ponytail.

jeno nodded, quickly tying his apron and grabbing a cutting board along with a knife, "woah, look at that. we should open a restaurant.", he joked with his usual eye smile.

"just wait five minutes and i'll be throwing boiling jjigae at you while you attack me with gochugaru.", you joked back.

you heard the door open and some rustling in the entrance, "jaemin-ah! you're back?", jeno shouted from the kitchen.

jaemin passed by the living room and the kitchen without really saying anything. he just mumbled something before heading towards his room. jeno and you gave each other a look, knowing all too well this behavior of jaemin. jeno nodded towards you and then the direction in which jaemin went, his eyes saying, 'go see what's wrong.'

you frowned at him, shaking your head before repeating his actions towards him, your eyes arguing with his, 'you, go see what's wrong.'

you didn't have the time to continue arguing that you heard jaemin coming out of his room. you two quickly got back to your occupation, which was cutting vegetables for jeno and boiling water for the daenjang jjigae for you. you two focused on cooking until jaemin came into the kitchen a few minutes later, hair still wet from the shower he just took.

"why didn't you dry your hair? it's late. it's not gonna dry before you go to sleep.", you said, glancing at him as you took the vegetables jeno finished cutting to put them in the stew.

"it's alright.", jaemin said with no tone whatsoever. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you stirred the vegetables in the boiling broth. you leaned your head back on him a little as he hid his face in the crook of your neck.

it was moment like that that made jeno felt like the most third wheel of all third wheels, "i knew i should've brought hyuck and the lil chef.", he muttered to himself, concentrating on cutting the meat.

you felt wet droplets of water hitting your skin but figured it was just jaemin's wet hair so you discarded it at first. you were immediately alarmed when you suddenly heard jaemin quietly sniff. you dropped your wooden spatula on the counter and turned towards jaemin. you grabbed his face to examine it and prevent him from hiding his tears from you. your eyes soften at the view of jaemin's tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes. you didn't like seeing him cry.

"yah, can you two, old couple, get back to cooking? i'm hungry!", jeno nagged at the two of you, pointing his knife accusingly.

"who are you calling old couple? i'm not gonna fall for his fuckboy antics."

thankfully, you were the one facing jeno and not jaemin so he couldn't see his crying face.

"we'll be back.", you said, grabbing jaemin's wrist and dragging him away, "please, finish cooking for us.", you stuck your tongue out at jeno to tease him.

"what am i? your private chef?", jeno screamed after the two of you, making you laugh.

you pulled jaemin into the bathroom making him sit on the toilet after closing the lid.

"what's going on?", you asked, as you took a hair dryer out of one of the sink's drawers.

"nothing.", jaemin said, trying hard to control the tone of his voice. you turned to look at him with your hand on your hip like a mom waiting for her child to confess something, "too many things. i just got overwhelmed.", he finally admitted.

your stance softened at his answer and you sighed, "you know, what i said the first time i saw you bawling your eyes out like a baby still stands. you don't have to keep everything inside of you until you eventually explode.", you said, as you plugged the hair dryer in the outlet. you then turned it on and turned towards jaemin to dry his hair. thankfully the cord was long enough.

jaemin put his arms around your waist in a loose hug, relaxing as you ran your hand through his hair, feeling the hot air of the hair dryer blowing on his skin. he thought about what you said and you weren't wrong in any way. jaemin knew he was used to bottling everything up until he could see jeno or renjun to talk it out but since they were all in uni there wasn't much time for them to see one another, even when jeno came over, he had to leave quite early due to his busy schedule and personal matter which was too early for jaemin to open up.

it took you ten minutes to dry your roommate's hair just enough for them to dry completely on their own before he went to bed. jaemin was disappointed when he didn't hear the loud blowing of the hair dryer anymore. he wanted to stay like this just a little more.

"come on or jeno is totally going to leave with the dinner we made.", you said, holding your hand out to jaemin to grab after putting the hair dryer back in its place.

you two came back to the living room where jeno already placed everything on the table, "it has been 55 days since my friends left me alone in their kitchen where i had to fight to finish this meal. ", jeno started talking as if there were people at the table with him as a joke.

you chuckled, "did you go crazy?"

"i might've.", jeno replied, widening his eyes.

"come on, let's eat, i'm starving."

you all started eating together and updating each other on your daily lives, well mainly you and jeno, jaemin didn't really talk much. you were excited about the updates on his roommate and crazy neighbor. it was all the drama you needed. filled with unexpected twists and cliché tropes.

you accompanied jeno to the door when it was time for him to leave while jaemin was doing the dishes, "is jaemin okay?", jeno mouthed to you so your roommate wouldn't hear.

"he's alright, i think."

"call me if you need me."

you nodded as you showed him an okay sign with your hand.

"i will never cook here again.", jeno said as he stepped outside of your apartment.

"see you next time, jeno!", you said, fully knowing that he will be back, in your kitchen with an apron on in no time.

after sending jeno away, you went to take a shower and brush your teeth before laying on your comfy bed, cuddling into your covers. you were scrolling through your instagram feed when there was a knock on your door. you knew that it could only be your roommate, especially at this hour. you hummed in response, signaling to him that he could enter.

"are you sleeping?", jaemin's head popped in your doorway. you thought he looked cute in his pajama set.

"obviously not.", you answered, sitting up and patting the place next to you on your bed. jaemin slowly entered your room fully, closing the door behind him, "what's going on in that head of yours?", you asked, poking his head gently.

jaemin gently grabbed your hand to stop you, bringing it down between the two of you without letting go. sometimes, your roommate did things that made you wonder if his feelings towards you were completely platonic, but every time those thoughts came to your mind, you quickly pushed them away, excusing them as his flirty habits, ignoring the little acceleration your heart experienced.

"am i that unlovable?", jaemin asked even though he whispered it under his breath.

"what?"

"there's this girl. we dated for like two years in high school but she was really jealous. she didn't want us to go public because her parents were pretty strict and didn't want her to date in high school. but the thing was that she was really insecure and would think that i was cheating on her with other girls that confessed their feelings to me. the relationship was so rocky with many ups and downs, mainly downs. she ended up breaking up with me because she couldn't handle the secrecy of our relationship anymore. my first love. amazing, right?", you could hear the sarcasm is his tone, "i thought my first relationship was going to be something special and romantic that'd stay with me forever."

"first times being special is a concept created by society to pressure us into waiting for 'the right one'. thinking that the first time is what will decide what the rest of your life will look like. my whole love life is filled with non special first times. my first kiss? during a spin the bottle. my first time? i was drunk out of my mind and just sleep with some guy at a party. first love? it was all a game for him to begin with. but relationships are overrated anyway. they just lead to heartbreaks."

"how can you say that? love is such a beautiful thing."

"love is a beautiful thing. relationships...", your hands playing with his fingers mindlessly as you found yourself lost in your own world for a moment, "when you find the love you deserve, even if it wasn't the one you were looking for, hold onto it. look for love, not relationships."

"i hope we'll find the love we both want and deserve, bunny.", jaemin said, squeezing your hand as you smiled up at him.

"you think chaeryeong and shotaro will finally get with each other tonight?", ryujin asked jimin and you as you waited for her to finish getting ready to go out.

"they've been going out on so many dates but haven't even held hands yet.", jimin said.

"oh really? it's kinda cute though.", you said.

"you're such a softie, y/n.", ryujin teased.

"how is it going with sungchan?", jimin teased further.

"what do you mean?", you knew exactly what she meant but chose to act oblivious.

"you two would look so good together.", ryujin commented.

"for real, i wanna puke every time i see the two of you giggling with each other.", jimin said.

"i don't think he likes me like that.", you replied, trying to shut down their fantasies.

"what about you?", jimin suddenly asked.

"i...", you hesitated and even though it was for a few seconds your friends jumped on the occasion to tease you again.

"ooooh, you're totally into him!", ryujin almost screamed and your cheeks started to burn.

"she's blushing!", jimin pointed out.

"oh my god! you guys are insufferable.", you whined hiding yourself behind one of ryujin's pillows.

your phone vibrated as it received a message.

i'm here :D

"sungchan's here.", you announced to your two friends.

"of course, he texted you.", jimin teased.

"it's just a text.", you rolled your eyes.

"he could have texted the groupchat.", jimin retorted.

"...shut up.", you said, running out of argument.

the three of you grabbed everything you needed before heading out. you met up with sungchan who was waiting for you in his car in front of the building. his eyes looked up from his phone and he smiled as he saw the three of you walking towards him. he unlocked the doors for you and you got into the passenger seat as ryujin and jimin got in the back.

"hey.", you greeted.

"hey.", he greeted back with a smile, "are you my gps today?"

"i guess.", you chuckled, "i'm bad at giving direction though. i just like sitting in the front."

sungchan chuckled at your answer, "you can't be worse than shotaro, he just gives up half way and starts giving me direction in japanese. i don't speak japanese."

you put your hand in front of your mouth, hiding your laughter. sungchan started driving, following your precise indications. you arrived at the party in no time. sungchan and you high fived each other for your teamwork when you got out of the car, heading towards the frat house.

ryujin and jimin almost ran to the kitchen to get some drinks as sungchan and you followed behind them, only getting yourselves some water or juice because you didn't drink and he was on driving duty.

jaemin really needed something to get himself out of his thoughts. he's had a lot of things going through his head lately and most of those things were you. for the past few months of being your roommate, jaemin's perception of you had changed quite a bit. at first, he thought you were totally his type. if you two weren't roommates, he would've made a move on you the minute he saw you but after some talking with his friends and having renjun reminding him of the fact that he would probably have to find another roommate and chenle reminding him how hard it was, he quickly gave up on the idea. then, he thought that you were cute and that you two could be good roommates, going grocery shopping and cooking together, keeping your relationship pretty simple, but after spending more time with you, talking with you, seeing you interacting with his friends, picked at his interest in you. that interest made you linger in his thought at random moments and made his heart beat faster every time you got near him.

your roommate's eyes landed on you and sungchan when he was looking for his friends. he didn't know you were going to be there and seeing you laughing with another guy and being touchy in a playful way made him feel something he didn't enjoy.

you, on the other hand, didn't notice jaemin staring at the two of you at all. you were concentrating on your conversation with sungchan and didn't really pay attention to your surroundings. you two were talking casually when sungchan suddenly stopped mid sentence as something caught his eyes in the distance and he started hitting your arm in excitement.

"ow, what happened? what did you see?", you asked, turning towards the direction he was looking into.

"shotaro and chaeryeong are so making out near that plant.", sungchan whispered into your ear then nodded towards the place he just mentioned.

you jumped up and down in excitement, hitting his arm like he did yours as you finally saw them, "is that really chaeryeong?"

"of course, who else?", he frowned funnily at you.

"i hope so, or imma beat his ass."

"i'll join in."

"come on. let's find ryujin and jimin to tell them.", you grabbed onto his wrist, dragging him into the search for your two friends. sungchan smoothly slid his hand into yours. it surprised you but you didn't mind it though, it felt nice.

"yah! ryujin-ah! jimin-ah!", you shouted once you spotted them. they were getting refills in the kitchen.

"ooooh y/n! i missed you!", ryujin said, throwing her arms around you in a hug, obviously drunk. you let go of sungchan's hand to hold onto your friend and not fall backwards.

"you're cuter when you're drunk you know that?", you said to her playfully.

"what did you-", jimin started before being interrupted by someone's scream.

"Y/N!!!", a voice you recognized immediately shouted, gaining your attention.

"jeno?", you looked at a highly under the influence jeno, standing in front of you.

"come with me quick.", his tone sounded like he was in a hurry.

"why? what's happening?", you asked, a little worried.

"jaemin's drunk, he needs to go home but i drank too much to drive him and some girls are trying to throw themselves at him."

your eyes were wide in shock. you remembered jaemin telling you about never getting too drunk at parties. you wondered what happened. you turned towards sungchan for a second and said, "tell them the news.", and then waved goodbye to your friends, "i'll see you later."

you followed jeno through the crowd, pushing through people to finally get to your roommate who was sitting on a couch, surrounded by a girl on each side. he had his head down and arms crossed around himself as if he didn't want anyone to touch him.

"get him home safely. you can deal with the girls, right? they kinda scare me.", jeno told you before fleeing the scene.

the girls seemed to notice your presence and turned towards you, glaring at you as if you'd ruined the chance of their life, "who are you?", one of them spat out.

you rolled your eyes and ignored her, "jaemin, let's go.", you said out loud with a gentle tone.

jaemin raised his head immediately when he heard your voice, "y/nnn!", he exclaimed, standing up with his arms open towards you.

you saw him lose balance and hurried to his side, grabbing one of his arms and putting it around you while wrapping your other arm around his waist.

you two got out of the frat house and walked to where jaemin told you he remembered parking his car, "do you have your keys with you?", you asked as you two finally managed to spot his car which was at the opposite of where jaemin told you it was. your roommate clumsily looked in his pocket and struggled to pull out his set of keys.

you helped him into the passenger seat, putting his seat belt on for him.

"you can sleep if you want.", you told jaemin as you started driving away.

the car fell into a comfortable silence as you concentrated on the road ahead of you and jaemin was concentrating on you. he watched your side profile in silence, from your eyes, reflecting the lights of the streets, to your pretty nose that made him want to boop it, to your full cheeks, he had to refrain himself from squishing them, then finally to your lips, he was dying to know how they would feel on his.

"you're staring.", you pointed out, breaking the peaceful silence.

"you're pretty.", jaemin complimented.

you gulped, feeling your hands sweating a little as you tried hard to not look in his direction. you never knew how to react when he complimented you.

jaemin clung onto you from the moment you helped him out of his car to the moment you put him in bed, "can't you stay?", jaemin pouted, batting his eyelashes at you as his arms were still around your neck.

"no, jaemin, you need to sleep.", you said.

jaemin let go of you and pouted even more, "alright. i'm all about consent.", he said, cuddling into his covers.

you smiled at his behavior, "goodnight, jaemin.", you said, before leaving.

the holidays period had arrived and you didn't go home this time, deciding on saving the money you would've used for the trip. instead, for christmas, you met with your friends at ryujin and jimin's place for a secret santa. there was you, ryujin, jimin, chaeryeong, sungchan and shotaro. you got sungchan and chaeryeong got you. chaeryeong gave you a cute bob she customized herself with a design she made that reminded her of you, it was so pretty. you got sungchan a pair of scissors for left handed people as an inside joke you two had and his real present was a limited edition merch of a game he couldn't stop talking about. it was cute when his eyes started sparkling.

after that you stayed a few more days at your friends' apartment, squatting their couch.

"are you doing something for the new year?", was the first thing your roommate told you as you picked up his call.

"nothing really. why?"

"i'm doing something at the apartment with some of the guys. wanna join?"

"yeah why- wait. you're home right now?"

"yeah."

"what? why didn't you text me?"

"because i thought you were with your family?"

"i'm squatting ryujin and jimin's place since like christmas."

after your call with jaemin, you hurriedly packed your stuff that lingered around your friends' apartment and quickly left, shouting them a goodbye and freeing their couch from your presence.

once you got home, you were welcomed by jaemin's smile and outstretched arms. you accepted the hug, welcoming your roommate home, "why weren't you home?"

"one night, i heard something falling in the kitchen and you were already gone for like two days so i got scared and packed my bags as soon as the sun got up."

jaemin chuckled at your story, patting your head in comfort.

"so, who's gonna be there for the new year?", you asked.

"apart from you and me. renjun, jeno, chenle, and jisung. donghyuck have something already. and mark is spending it with his girlfriend. hyuck got sulky when he realized he was one of the only two absent."

"can i invite my friends too?"

"sure, just let me know how many will be there."

you quickly texted your friends' groupchat asking about everyone's plan for the new year. chaeryeong and shotaro were going to be with their respective family but ryujin, jimin and sungchan were in. you told jaemin that three of your friends were coming over and from there you two talked about the preparations. you made a list for the food, a list for the decorations, even a list of what to hide so they wouldn't be broken.

the two of you went shopping together buying all the things you needed for the party while having lots of fun. you kept playing around with things you found funny in different aisle as jaemin watched and laughed as if you were the funniest comedian on earth. he was down bad.

"should we set a dress code for the party or not?", you asked, turning to your roommate in the middle of the confettis section of the store.

"well, if that means i can see you in that black dress again...", he jokingly said in a flirty way as he looked at you in the eyes. jaemin had that intense gaze in his eyes sometimes that made your body shiver.

you rolled your eyes, keeping your composure, "i was thinking about a pajamas competition or something like that."

"you'd look good either way.", jaemin shrugged as he kept pushing the cart nonchalantly. thankfully, he didn't notice your cheeks turning pink.

the hardest part of this new year party was actually setting everything up the day of it. jaemin didn't stop messing with you, from poking your side when your were busy putting decorations up, to back hugging you when you were cutting vegetables and not helping with the cooking at all. the food you prepared was pretty simple, fried chicken, pasta, stir fried noodles with vegetables and meat and fried rice.

"i should've accepted donghyuck's roommate proposition of helping us with cooking.", jaemin said, his chin on your shoulder as he watched you chop vegetables.

"you turned down a chef-in-training's help?", you asked, kind of dumbfounded. you could've ate the best version of every dish you were making.

"i wanted to cook just with you.", jaemin pouted.

"oh, 'cause you are so cooking right now.", you said, looking down at his arms linked around your waist.

"i can help you cut vegetables."

"how ar-", you interrupted yourself when jaemin placed his hands on yours and started moving them as if he was playing with a doll, "well, i'm going to rest then.", you leaned back on your roommate, your head resting on his shoulder. you learned to go along with his flirting, if it was something you couldn't escape than you decided to embrace it. jaemin smirked, feeling your body pressed against his as he glanced as your face.

the doorbell ringing surprised the two of you as it was still pretty early. jaemin went to check who it was while you continued cooking.

"wooah. you decorated the place?", you recognized the voice of your second mom immediately.

"no, it looks like that all year long.", you sarcastically answered.

the guest walked into the living room and saw you cooking in the open kitchen.

"what are you guys doing here so early?", you asked, seeing the three familiar faces of your friends.

"we thought since you invited us, we'd at least help you with something.", jimin said, settling her bag on your couch.

"you came at the right time. we need hands in the kitchen. this guy only took out the ingredients so far.", you pointed your knife accusingly at jaemin.

"let's get this started for real.", sungchan said.

the five of you started cooking together, it was a little hard since the kitchen was small for the number of people in it. ryujin and jimin were on pasta duty, sungchan and you were on stir fried noodles duty and jaemin was on fried rice duty. the first people to finish their dish would prepare the friend chicken. since yours and sungchan's dish was longer to prepare, the other three moved to the living room table for the fried chicken.

seeing you and sungchan cooking together and joking around with each other in the kitchen kind of irritated jaemin, making him make some mistakes with coating the chicken. jimin and ryujin noticed, giving each other a knowing look. as sungchan and you finished stir frying the noodles, putting it in a dish, the doorbell rang. the fried chicken team having finished as well, jaemin went back to the kitchen with the uncooked fried chicken while ryujin cleaned the table and jimin went to open the door to whoever just arrived.

"woah, that was quick.", you said, noticing your roommate. he kind of ignored you, and just put the plate on the counter next to the electric stove before walking back to the living room and retrieved the other dirty plates. you frowned a little at his behavior. he would usually retort something funny or brag about his skills.

"do you think we put enough seasoning?", sungchan's voice brought your attention back to him.

"mmmh, i think it's alright. i'm the best for seasoning things with my gut feeling.", you said, with a thumb up.

"oh really?", he exclaimed in a playful tone, "we'll see then, if it's bad you owe me coffee."

"deal.", you two shook hands to seal the deal, "i'm going to change, my clothes smell like stir fried everything."

you quickly got back to your room to change into your new year look. jaemin and you settled on no dress code because jaemin said, "i'm sure jeno will forget and not dress accordingly, chenle will be over the top and jisung is too broke. renjun is the only that's gonna on theme."

you slipped into that one black dress jaemin couldn't stop mentioning, added more to your normal makeup to make it more festive and applied some perfume. you checked yourself one last time in your mirror before heading back out to the living room.

by the time you finished getting ready, everyone had arrived and were talking around the table. all the dishes were laid out on the table, only the fried chicken was missing. you waved hello at all your guests before heading towards the kitchen.

jaemin was there with an apron on, frying the last pieces of chicken. he sensed your presence as you stood next to him but didn't acknowledge it whatsoever. his expression was more serious than usual, "what's wrong?", you asked, breaking the heavy silence.

"nothing, i'm just concentrating on the food.", jaemin answered.

you knew he didn't tell you everything but you resorted to just resting your chin on his shoulder, not wanting to leave him alone while he cooked for everyone. jaemin didn't show it but his heart was beating like crazy and a smile started re appearing on his face.

"you smell good.", jaemin complimented.

"you smell like fried chicken.", you replied, jokingly.

jaemin gave you a side look before flicking your forehead. you whined, your hand rubbing the place where he flicked you, "you can bring this plate out first, this is almost done."

you obeyed, taking the plate of fried chicken while sticking your tongue out at him like a five year old. you came back to the living room where everyone was playing a game where they had to guess the name they had on their forehead. you put the plate down on the table and sat on the ground next to sungchan, who gave you the pillow he had to put on your lap since you were wearing a dress.

"it's time to eat. come on, last round everyone, first to guess, first to win.", jimin said out lout.

you laughed as each of them failed to guess who was on their paper, even sungchan, "how could you not get the lady on the starbucks cup?", you asked, removing the paper scotched on his forehead for him.

"you mean how could i have guessed that. there's no way anyone would've guessed it.", sungchan replied.

"i would've.", you retorted.

"you wouldn't have."

"totally would."

"you're in denial."

"i-"

your banter was interrupted by jaemin almost throwing the second plate of fried chicken down on the table, "let's eat before it gets cold.", he said, sitting down on the other side on you. you all started enjoying the meal you've prepared with care, you've never had that many variety of dish at the same time before.

"shit, the stir fried noodles are good.", sungchan muttered next to you.

"told you i could measure my spices.", you said, hitting his arm slightly with yours.

"then i will bring you your coffee personally the first day back at uni, spice master.", sungchan jokingly said, bowing a little while swirling his hand.

"i'll look forward to it, dear.", you replied with the same tone, waving your hand as well. jaemin cleared his throat next to you, earning your attention but when you turned towards him he was just enjoying his food normally.

after you all finished eating, the ones who didn't help cooking took care of the dishes while the rest of you enjoyed the drinks jeno and renjun brought. you were playing a game of 'put a finger down if', and the loser would have to one shot a bowl of makgeolli.

"i have slept with more than ten people.", jimin said, obviously having a target in mind.

"that was too unfair.", jaemin said, shaking his head while folding one of his fingers.

you shocked everyone by folding one of yours as well.

"what? y/n?!", ryujin practically screamed in shock.

"yah! you hid that from us?", jimin joined in.

"what? what? what? what is happening?", chenle shouted from behind the kitchen counter.

"y/n is a player!", sungchan answered chenle, making you turn towards him and push him playfully.

"really?!", jeno screamed.

"are you serious?", ryujin asked, her eyes having not return to their normal size yet.

"yah! why do you seem so shocked?!"

"they grow up so fast.", jimin jokingly sniffed and patted her under eyes to get rid of her imaginary tears.

"i didn't know you had game.", sungchan said next to you, making you push him again, harder this time as he fell on his side while laughing.

"you sure have some secrets, bunny.", jaemin whispered to you in the midst of the chaos. you rolled your eyes and pushed him as well.

the game ended with your loss when the others returned from the kitchen.

"want me to get you something else to one shot?", jaemin asked you as they all knew that you didn't really drink alcohol.

"it's alright. it's been a while anyway, i'm gonna be fine.", you replied.

you brought the bowl to your lips and started drinking slowly as your friends cheered for you. with a last gulp, you finished the alcoholic beverage. it had been so long that you had almost forgot how it tasted like.

"sorry guys, unexpected return of roommate. i have to go.", renjun said, as he stood up.

"you can drive?", jeno asked.

"yeah, i haven't started drinking yet.", renjun replied.

"alright, see you then.", you all waved goodbye to renjun as he hurriedly left.

you were a few hours away from the new year and your tiredness started to hit you hard. you were fighting to keep your eyes open and the makgeolli you drank didn't really help. your alcohol tolerance really dropped. you weren't drunk or anything, it was just enough to make you feel how tired you were even more. you were the kind of person to sleep early and wake up early so you were really fighting yourself.

"don't fall asleep, you'll miss the new year.", sungchan nudged you slightly as your head was resting on his shoulder.

"i'll just rest my eyes for a second.", you replied, your voice so small that he almost missed it. sungchan patted your hand in comfort and just ended up leaving it there while he talked with chenle and ryujin.

everyone was engrossed in their own conversation to notice you, except jaemin who seemed to be even more fired up than before.

"if you get any tenser you'll just transform into a rock.", jeno told his friend.

"i'm fine.", jaemin replied a little dismissively.

"dude, you've had heart eyes for her for a while now. you're also her roommate, you see her more and you've been acting like a couple every time i was over, which made me want to hang myself sometimes, not gonna lie so why you backing down now?"

"you're one to talk.", jaemin started, alluding to jeno's personal life, "and i'm not backing down, i just-", he stopped as he glanced at your sleepy figure so close to sungchan. he can't help himself but wonder if the signs he picked up on from you were just in his head.

a loud explosion coming from outside startled you and stopped every on going conversation. you sat straight up and looked outside like everyone.

"oooh, the fireworks are starting.", jimin said.

you all rushed to the windows to observe it most of your friends went to the bigger windows as you opted for the smaller one. you felt the fresh air hitting your face as you opened it.

"it's pretty.", you said, watching the fireworks explode in multiple colors.

"it is.", sungchan replied as his eyes lingered on you for a moment before turning his attention towards the fireworks, "are you feeling better?"

"mmmmh yeah. the fireworks and bright lighting helped.", you joked, making him laugh a little.

there was even more noise when people started screaming and counting.

"5...4...3...2...1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!", lots of people shouted along with you and your friends. people on the streets were celebrating as well as your neighbors and people from other apartment buildings around you and even people driving were honking like crazy.

you turned towards sungchan to see that he was already looking at you, "what?", you asked as he seemed to have something on his mind.

sungchan smiled at you before moving his hand close to your face and pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. his hand didn't move afterwards, his eyes looking for any sign of discomfort on your face. he then brought his face down to yours, still looking at you. you knew what he wanted to do and you didn't back out nor stopped him. you didn't want to. your gaze dropped down to his lips and leaned slightly forwards as if to tell him that it was okay. sungchan closed the gap between the two of you, his lips softly touched yours as he became your first kiss of the year.

no one really noticed the two of you as they were all too busy screaming and celebrating. all, except one person who spilled his drink on himself when he screamed 'happy new year' too excitedly.

jaemin.

thankfully, your first day in uni of the year wasn't right after the new year celebration because you were exhausted from all the cooking, the cleaning and the celebration. your friends all left quite early in the morning, not sleeping at all and deciding to call an uber for safety since they shouldn't drive in their state. you told jimin to give you her car keys, so you could drive her car to uni to avoid her the inconvenience of coming back here.

jaemin and you spent the next day, or rather afternoon, because you two slept until noon, cleaning the apartment. you didn't interact much since you still had the kiss with sungchan on your mind but even with that aside, you felt like jaemin was avoiding you. little did you know, your roommate also had yours and sungchan's kiss on his mind. after seeing the two of you, his mood switched instantly. he didn't know why his little crush on you affected him that much. or is it because it wasn't only a small crush?

you let it slide the first day, blaming it on the exhaustion caused by the new year but when the next days, jaemin was still acting the same, you started to worry. you tried asking him simple things to start at least a small conversation with him but he dodged every question and even straight up ignored you sometimes. the lack of attention from him did feel weird.

"okay, i can't do this anymore. what's wrong with you?", you finally snapped when you two passed each other in the hallway as you were heading back to your room and he was heading to the bathroom.

"what's wrong with ME? what's wrong with YOU?!", jaemin snapped back, turning around to face you.

"me?", you repeated, confused.

"one minute, you're warm, the other one, you're cold. one minute, you treat me like a friend, the other one, you act like i'm the worse fuckboy to ever exist. one minute...we're hugging and being domestic as fuck, and the other...you're...kissing another guy. this is driving me crazy, y/n. you're driving crazy. i don't know if you like me or not, or just what you think of me."

"i-", you were speechless. your mind was blank, still trying to register the informations.

"i'll leave you with your thoughts.", jaemin said, before turning around again, walking into the bathroom.

you were indeed drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the night, having trouble sleeping even. you couldn't wrap your head around what was actually happening. were you really stuck between two completely different guys? even when you managed to finally shut your brain off, your subconscious took over and you dreamed of the both of them.

when you woke up the next morning, you cursed the timing for having to go back to uni right after what happened. jaemin already left which made you kind of relieved, you wouldn't have known how to act around him. you drove jimin's car to uni, giving your friend her keys back at lunch.

you were really out of it the whole day. at first, ryujin thought that it was just because you haven't had any caffeine yet but when sungchan showed up with the cup of coffee he owed you from the bet, you didn't seem to get any better. you were thankful to sungchan who was extra sweet with you, seeing that you weren't feeling well.

"hey, are you free after class this afternoon?", sungchan asked you as you were sitting at lunch with everyone else.

"i'm doing something with the girls later.", you said, quickly followed by, "don't worry, we'll talk another day."

"alright.", sungchan sent you a relaxed smile as he patted your head.

you knew he wanted to talk about the kiss and the status of your relationship now that that happened but you weren't even sure what to tell him if you two talked right now.

you needed an emergency girls' night and it came in a form of snacks packaging all over your friends' living room's floor while ryujin and jimin were listening to you talk.

"he said what because he saw what?", jimin asked after you told them everything from your kiss with sungchan to jaemin snapping at you.

"so i didn't imagined that kiss.", ryujin said, tapping her chin with her index.

"you saw it and you didn't tell me?!", jimin exclaimed, offended.

"i barely saw it and i was drunk! i thought shipping them so hard got to my brain and i was hallucinating.", ryujin retorted, making you laugh.

"tsk.", jimin shook her head at her roommate disapprovingly before turning towards you, "so what happened next?"

"well, nothing. i have to talk to sungchan about the kiss and jaemin...well...i don't know..."

"this is like a drama. who do you like best?", ryujin asked.

"i-i don't know...sungchan?"

"that sounded more like a question than an affirmation.", jimin noted.

you sighed. your thoughts were in shambles, "sungchan is literally perfect. he's a kind, sweet, the sweetest ever, he never get grumpy somehow, and he's the kind of person that brightens your day the moment you see them. he really is the perfect friend. he's considerate, funny, i feel comfortable around him. it should be him, right?"

"what about jaemin?", ryujin asked.

"he's a fuckboy."

"what else?", jimin pushed.

"what do you mean?"

"he's not just a fuckboy and you know that. describe him like you did sungchan.", jimin clarified.

"jaemin is...my roommate. he can be insufferable, calling me bunch of nicknames like bunny and princess, and acting overall like the fuckiest fuckboy. he is extremely clingy and he drinks that awful iced americano with four extra shots of expresso that makes me wonder how he's still alive. but there's also that sweet side to him and little things he does that he thinks others won't notice. like how he can be super caring. did i tell you how when after he found me asleep on our doorstep that morning after a party, he made sure to be home every night just in case it happened again. i had to tell him that i was going to okay and that it won't happen again when he came back home still smelling like after sex sweat, alcohol and sephora. ke kinda grew on me, somehow. he's pretty funny and watching shows with him made me realize that he was kind of a romantic...but i can't get over the fuckboy status. i've been with too many fuckboys to fall for that again."

"you never know. maybe he's different.", jimin said.

"that's what i told myself every time and i'm sick of history repeating itself."

"do you lean towards one in particular?", ryujin asked.

"i know i should choose sungchan. he's good for me. he's like a sunny day after a storm...but jaemin feels like staying home with a blanket around me when it's raining outside."

"how did you feel when sungchan and you kiss?"

"good, i mean he's not a bad kisser. it felt comfortable and nice."

"you know you sound like you've already made a choice, right?", jimin asked you, "you described sungchan as a 'perfect friend' and then proceeded to rant about jaemin with the only thing holding you back, is that he's a fuckboy."

"my sungy/n heart is broken but i have to admit that you don't seem to have that much romantic feelings towards sungchan or at least, you feel more things for jaemin. you realize that you kept using the word 'should' for sungchan, right? it's like your head vs your heart.", ryujin added.

you sighed. from the bottom of your heart, you wished you could tell them they were wrong but you knew, deep down, that you didn't feel anything for sungchan, or like ryujin put it, you felt more for jaemin. everything would have been much easier if you were mentally stable enough to choose someone like sungchan. your situation with jaemin was just too complicated. you always thought that his gestures towards were only platonic and maybe they were at first but it seemed to have took a turn you didn't expect.

you went home pretty late that night, after talking with your friends for hours. you saw the messages jaemin sent you a few hours earlier. you had forgot to tell him that you were going to ryujin and jimin's place since you two were awkward now.

you entered your apartment, removing your shoes and sliding into your home slippers, walking into the living room. you noticed a mass of the couch, approaching it you saw jaemin lying there with his arms crossed and eyes closed.

he was waiting for you.

even though you two were not on speaking term and he seemed fed up the last time you spoke to him, he still waited. he was still worried. and there goes that little knife that dug itself deeper into your heart.

you went to jaemin's room to retrieve his blanket, thinking he must have been freezing waiting for you and falling asleep on the couch without something warm around him. you left him a note on the table next to the couch saying that you were home and that you were okay before going into your room.

the next day, your only class of the afternoon got canceled so sungchan and you decided to grab a coffee at the nearest coffee shop to talk about the two of you.

"so...", you started as the two of you sat down at a table in the cozy coffee shop with your drinks.

"so...", sungchan repeated.

there was a little awkward silence be fore you decided to speak again, "okay so i'm going to go straight to the point. i don't think-"

"-you have romantic feelings for me?", he interrupted with what you were going to say which startled you a little. he didn't seem sad or angry, he was just like his usual self.

"how did you-? did the girls tell you?"

sungchan laughed at your confusion, "no but it was something i kind of expected. i was hesitant at first for the new year's kiss but with a few shots and the loud fireworks, my brain said why not. i don't regret it.", he shrugged.

"i'm sorry.", you apologized.

"there's nothing to apologize for.", he nudged you, "it's not like i was in love with you or anything. it's alright. i like the idea of us maybe dating but i love being friends with you so actually, it's a win-win."

"you really are the best.", you smiled at him.

"then why aren't you dating me?!", he said but you knew that he was fully joking as he started laughing afterwards.

you got home that day, right after grabbing an early dinner with sungchan and the girls after their classes finished. when you entered the living room, jaemin was eating his dinner while watching tv on the couch, his wet hair adorning a jet black color.

he dyed his hair and holy mother of sanity did he look good.

you gulped down your thoughts and headed towards your room. you took a well deserved hot shower to clear your mind.

the following week was so awkward between the two of you. you woke up earlier every morning to leave the apartment before him and when you saw each other at home, you just walked past one another. you had to deal with your thoughts and feelings and jaemin left you the space you needed to do so even though it was killing him to not talk with you. you also felt bad every time you saw him watch a show on the couch alone, all you wanted to do was plop down next to him and enjoy some popcorn while commenting on whatever you were watching.

"jaemin?", you called, walking into the living room and spotting jaemin's now black hair on the couch.

"mmmh?", he hummed, acknowledging your call.

"can we talk?"

"sure.", he paused his show and sat back straight on the couch, moving from the middle to one end of it so you could sit as well.

"okay, so, let me get this out of the way first.", you said, sitting down on the couch and facing jaemin.

"sungchan and i are just friends. we talked about it and decided to remain friends since i didn't have any romantic feelings for him.", you said, slowing your usual speed of speech and being as clear and simple as you could be so your roommate wouldn't misunderstand, "now, what did you mean by telling me what you told me the other day?"

jaemin's eyes had seemed to have gain a few sparkles since you cleared things about sungchan. he remained silent for a moment, his brain fusing to get the adequate words out, "i like you, a lot."

you realized that you didn't plan anything passed this. you didn't know what to say.

"i- give me a second, alright?", you said, turning sideways and inhaling all the air you could before exhaling it all along your all your messy thoughts, wiping your brain clean, "okay, so...i can't say that i feel completely indifferent towards you...but...", jaemin's head perked up at your words, "you're a fuckboy."

"i-"

"-can change? stop? treat me good? i've heard it all. and they never changed.", you saw jaemin opening his mouth again probably to defend himself, but you quickly continued, knowing what he was going to say, "i know it doesn't mean that you won't, so...i was thinking...if you're up for it...to have like a sort of trial?"

"like netflix?"

"kinda? let's not date, or flirt, or fuck anyone for like a month or two and see if we still have feelings and by we, i mean, mainly you.", you threw in a little joke at the end to lighten the mood.

"one month or two, even a whole year if i have to."

"well, we'll see if your feelings make it. i'm quite hard to love."

"i'll give it my best.", he said with a little smile, blinking his doe eyes at you.

"don't over do it.", you smiled before pushing his face backwards.

jaemin put his arms around you and brought you in a much wanted hug. he's been dying to do that since the start of your conversation, "is that okay?"

"i'll tell you if something is not okay.", you said, relaxing in his arms. you missed that feeling.

"can i come in?", jaemin asked after knocking on your door.

"sure.", you shouted while finishing your makeup.

"are you ready to go?", he asked, stepping in. you two were going to a frat party, even though you weren't really in the mood, you still wanted to spend some time with your friends.

"yeah, just let me grab my jacket and...", you turned around to be faced with jaemin's body. you waited for him to move but he didn't, you looked up at him and said, "i thought we were leaving."

"i just want to look at you a little longer.", he said, putting his hands on your side, right on the cutouts of your white dress.

"you can do that at the party.", you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"but i'd rather do it here.", jaemin brought one of his hands up to your face, his index under your chin, lifting it up to face his own.

your eyes were fixated on his lips as you gulped. you pulled yourself out of the thoughts of how they would feel against your own and looked up at his eyes to see him still looking down, "don't ruin my lipstick.", you whispered since you two were pretty close.

"hearing you say it, makes me want to do it even more."

"oh yeah?", you slowly got on your tiptoes, getting your lips even closer to his. if you moved, you would have been able to transfer some of your lipstick on his lips. jaemin's breath got caught in his throat and he didn't dare to move a millimeter. his whole body froze. you smirked at his reaction and stepped back, walking around him to grab the jacket on your chair, "let's go."

jaemin let out a shaky sigh before following after you.

during the party, jaemin and you got separated at some point as he went to find his friends and you yours. since you didn't really felt like partying too much, so you just had some fun with your friends, dancing and laughing.

"how is it going with jaemin?", jimin asked you as you sat on a couch between her and sungchan. there was also ryujin, chaeryeong, and shotaro.

"there's something going on between you and jaemin?", shotaro asked.

"yes and no...i'm waiting to see if he's serious about this or not."

"mmmh so that's why he's been sending me death stares from that corner over there since we sat on this couch.", sungchan said, almost sounding as if he was joking but when you quickly glanced at the corner he mentioned you noticed jaemin staring in your direction among a group of guys who were just discussing with one another which made you start laughing a little.

from jaemin's point of view, you were laughing at something sungchan had said which made him kind of jealous if he was totally honest. he trusted you and knew that if you told him that there was nothing going on between sungchan and you then there was nothing but he couldn't help but feel a little stab in his heart.

after some more talking with your friends, you decided it was time for you to head home. you hugged your friends goodbye before heading outside. you swiped on your phone, ready to order a taxi to go home when someone called you, "y/n! bunny!"

you turned around instantly, recognizing the nickname, "almost didn't know it was you when you called me by my name.", you teased with a smile.

jaemin smiled back at you before asking, "are you leaving right now?"

"yeah, don't worry about me, i'll see you at home.", you said, waving him back inside.

"it's alright, we can go home together."

"i'm alright, jaemin. really."

"but i want to go home with you.", he pouted.

how could you say no to that face.

"did you drink?", you asked him.

"one cup.", he said, holding his index up.

"give me your keys.", you replied, stretching your hand out.

jaemin easily complied, sliding his keys into your hand. your ride home was quite fun, jaemin showed you mark's soundcloud and to be completely honest, his songs were pretty good. jaemin and you bopped your head to mark's voice while laughing at whatever weird moves your roommate was doing.

"first for the bathroom.", you said as soon as you heard jaemin close your apartment door.

"wait.", jaemin grabbed your wrist, spinning around to face him. he was extremely close, "can i ruin your lipstick now?"

you didn't say anything at first, your mind still trying to process his words. your eyes trailed down from his eyes to his lips and gosh did they look inviting. you slowly leaned in and pressed your lips gently on his. that was all jaemin needed to kiss you back. you stood in the middle of your living room, fully making out, your hands were in his hair while he had one one your waist while the other one cupped your cheek. you felt your heart beating so fast that at this point, you thought it was gonna beat out of your chest.

jaemin was the first one to pull away, breathing heavily, "if we keep going, it's gonna be really hard for me to stop myself..."

your brain worked it magic and lots of things went through your mind after he said that and in a short amount of time, making you blush and hide your face in his shirt.

you headed back to your room to take some clothes before going into the bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and your hand instinctively went to your lips, fingers tracing your lower lip as you saw how smudged your lipstick had gotten. the event flashed in your mind and you couldn't help the smile spreading on your face. jaemin was slowly bringing the wall you had built down and even though you were scared to let someone in again, being with jaemin felt great.

that night, jaemin came into your room and asked if you two could cuddle. you sleepily opened your covers for him, sliding to one side of your bed and the both of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

"hey, i actually don't feel like clubbing tonight, you guys go without me.", you said to jimin over the phone.

"alright! we'll send you lots of pictures!"

"alright! have fun!", you both hung up as you returned to your tv show.

that night you had planned to go to that club in itaewon that was famous for doing a monthly event for university student only but you didn't really feel like going out, you lowkey were just waiting for jaemin to get home so you could cuddle together while watching tv.

you heard the doorbell ring and were confused for a second. you got up to check the camera screen next to your door and saw a girl standing there. she seemed to be around your age and was holding something in her hands.

you pushed the mic button to speak to the person outside, "hello, who are you?"

"hello, i'm here to give jaemin his sweater back. he left it with me when we saw each other last week ."

you felt your heart drop in your stomach and a lump form in your throat. when you realized you've been silent for a long time, you managed to pull yourself together and open the door. you greeted the girl with a slight bow as she did the same.

"tell him i'm sorry i didn't gave it to him earlier, i just remembered a few hours ago."

you nodded, your brain had completely shut off.

"i'll...leave then.", she awkwardly said, before walking away.

you closed the door and let out a big sigh. you couldn't believe what just happened. you looked in the bag the girl had handed you and indeed it was one of jaemin's sweater, you had seen him wear it multiple time. you remembered telling him that you were going out tonight with the girls so did he call her over? while you were out? were they hooking up?

you felt like you've been cheated on even though technically you had no right to feel that way. he wasn't your boyfriend. this only meant that he wasn't serious about pursuing you to begin with. even though it was something you expected, it still hurt but right now you weren't really sad, you were more angry, fuming actually.

you dropped the bag in jaemin's room and went to yours, getting ready to forget about your stupid roommate.

"hello, jaemin? this is ryujin. can you come pick y/nup? she's gone completely out of character. she's so drunk, she is actually this close to offering a strip tease to whoever says yes. we're trying to hold her back but i can't stop her. come quick, please, i'll text you the address."

as soon as jaemin heard this, he hurried back out of his apartment. he had just gotten home after his shift when he received ryujin's call and he was very confused because ryujin said that you were drunk. jaemin had never seen you drunk and the only time he saw you drink was at your new year party. he wondered why you suddenly started drinking again, especially when you seemed so done with your younger self every time you spoke about it.

jaemin found you, jimin and ryujin on the street in front of the club. you were leaning on jimin's shoulder as ryujin checked your temperature with her hand on your forehead. jaemin could see the look of relief on their face when they saw him. your roommate gave them a ride home as your two friends were exhausted from running around the club to get you. during the whole car ride, you didn't spoke nor look into jaemin's direction. you just closed your eyes and lean the farthest you could from him. even when jaemin tried to help you out the car, you ignored him and didn't let him touch you. you had regain some clarity thanks to the little drive and could totally walk and stand on your own, even though you could go off path from time to time. jaemin stayed behind you to make sure you didn't fall.

once you've reached your apartment, jaemin asked you, "hey, is everything okay?"

it was a simple question but it somehow angered you in an inimaginable way, "is everything okay? is everything OKAY?!", you scoffed, "no, everything is not okay, no.", you looked at him with spite in your eyes, "your booty call dropped by earlier. she wanted to give you your sweater back. should've told her when you were going to be home."

"what are you talking about?", jaemin asked with furrowed eyebrows.

you didn't even hear the real confusion in his voice, only interpreting his question as a lie, a way to manipulate you, like many had done before.

"you know what i'm talking about. don't play dumb.", being drunk made you a lot harsher and filter free.

"i really don't. i can assure you i have not been hooking up with anyone. how can you think that? you're the only one i've want any contact with. you're the only one i can think about. you're all i think about. how do you want me to prove it to you? do you want me to shout it out loud in the streets or in the hallways of uni? because i would do it in a heartbeat. you're driving me insane but in a good way. in a way, that makes me want more."

"that's not what i want. i don't want you to burn for me. i don't want to be the bane of your existence.", you started, quoting the infamous show you two had been watching, "i don't want passion. i want someone to love me, even when i'm boring, even when i'm mad, even when i'm sad, even when i don't talk and stay in my corner or when i'm loud and talk to everybody at a party, even when i'm old. i'm sick of the honeymoon phase. in french, they call it 'noces de chêne', oak wedding, it represents 80 years of marriage. i want that kind of love. old, long, lasting."

after that long rant, you stumbled to your room and crashed onto your bed, passing out.

the next morning, you woke up with an astronomical headache. you forgot how hangover felt like and you sure didn't miss it. you turned over on your bed and spotted a glass of water and some medication for your headache on your bedside table. you quickly took them with a little groan, due to sitting up too quickly. you remembered the events of the previous night all too well, a little embarrassed by your behavior at the club. you'll text your friends later to apologize. after taking the pills, you got up, grabbed some clothes and took a well needed shower. you've never felt that dirty after waking up. you got back into bed right after making sure you blowdried your hair and tried to get some more sleep.

a few minutes later, someone knocked on your door. you didn't answer, knowing who it was. jaemin waited a little before opening the door to your room and entering, "i made you some hangover soup."

you still didn't answer.

jaemin approached your bed with the little table tray, "i know you're awake. i heard you taking a shower."

you sighed, peeking your head out from under the blanket. you saw jaemin standing next to your bed with the tray in his hands and you knew that he wouldn't leave before you ate that soup so you sat up, allowing him to put the tray table on your bed.

you started eating in silence, still not wanting to speak to him.

"are you still mad?", jaemin asked.

slurp.

"i take that as a yes. can i at least explain myself?"

slurp.

"then i will. please refrain from throwing soup in my face until i finish talking.", you eye sided him before continuing your slurping, "so, i saw the bag in my room. i guess you were talking about that yesterday. i did not sleep with her. she's the girl from high school i talked to you about. she just wanted to clear up some misunderstandings we had. she spilled her coffee on herself by accident and i gave her my sweater to cover it up. she sent me a message yesterday to give it back but also told me that she didn't know when she'll be able to. so i just gave her our address so she could drop it here whenever she could. i told her to leave it in front of the door if no one was home. i did not sleep with anyone since i told you i love you. well, technically, i didn't say it but the meaning was there, well...anyway..."

your eyes perked up at the word 'love', you knew it wasn't as if he told you he was in love with you but still, it was a strong feeling that you didn't know someone could feel towards you.

jaemin, as if he saw the perplexity in your eyes, said, "i love when we go grocery shopping together. i love when we cook together or watch shows together. i love when it's getting late and you knock on my door to make sure i've had dinner. i love how your eyes sparkle and almost turn into crescent moons when you hear or see something funny. i love when you hold my hand even if it's for a split second. and i especially love how i feel around you. i've been falling for you more and more each day and i've learn to love every little thing about you. i don't know who told you you were hard to love, but loving you is the easiest thing i have ever done."

your gaze softened at his speech. you dropped your spoon and grabbed his face, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

you had to admit that you were blinded by your emotions and trauma at first. having lived that same situation many times where your ex boyfriends would cheat on you and then deny it, even though you caught them in the act, on your on bed, like sure bob, that's your cousin and her weird way of greeting you. but you knew that you could trust jaemin, you two were friends before all this and you felt bad for not giving him the benefit of the doubt and snapping at him instead of remaining calm and communicating.

"i'm sorry...for yesterday and for assuming.", you apologized.

"it's alright. you can make it up to me later with lots of kisses and cuddles.", he said, kissing the top of your head, "can i be your boyfriend now?"

you smiled, "sure."

"yayyy, girlfriend!", he exclaimed. he was going to tackle you but remembered the tray and quickly got rid of it.

"eeeh, i wasn't done with that.", you said, hand reaching out for the food but jaemin was too quick.

"there's plenty more. i want to cuddle.", he said, opening his arms and almost jumping on top of you. you snuggled in his arms, breathing in his scent. you felt safe in his arms.

looking back, you definitely involved yourself more than necessary with na jaemin.

but that was probably the best thing you had ever done.

#nct dream #nct #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #na jaemin #jaemin #na jaemin scenarios #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin fluff #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin fluff #na jaemin angst #jaemin angst #sweet life au

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snoopymins · 1 month

Text

we're all reaching out to find another hand | na jaemin

summary: Na Jaemin is an up-and-coming investigative journalist, relentlessly exposing corruption and cover-ups at every corner, and you are but the exasperated superhero charged with ensuring he doesn't get killed in the process.

pairing: journalist!na jaemin/f!superhero!reader

wc: 26k

genre: non-idol, superheroes, angst, fluff, eventual happy ending/romance

warnings: violence and injuries, typical stuff for superhero media ig? brief mentions of natural disasters, gun violence, etc

note: had to mush things together and cut things out to get this to fit. i hope that whatever staff member decided there should be content blocks on posts has a wretched day. anyways, this is a superhero au, specifically inspired by superman/clark kent and lois lane, in that reader is a kryptonian/supergirl and jaemin is, essentially, her lois lane. those characters (clark/lois etc) are not here, however, kun is placed into what is essentially clark kent/superman's role, as well as an oc for lois lane. no in-depth knowledge is necessary—all my research is based on google, wiki, and popular media surrounding superman. i do my best to explain everything as well, promise!

playlist: tomorrow is closed—nothing but thieves • do you realize??—the flaming lips • who we are—hozier • drowning—woodz

masterlist

“This is happening too often.”

“I don’t agree.”

“Of course you don’t. You never do.”

Your cousin has always tried to impart careful advice on professionalism and respect when it comes to your job. For the most part, you agree, and treat it like your own personal Hippocratic Oath.

You figure if Kun saw you now, bickering with Na ‘Persistent Pain In Your Ass’ Jaemin, he’d be a little disappointed in you.

“I wasn’t in danger,” Jaemin counters stubbornly, crossing his arms.

“I think falling off a ladder and cracking your head open on the sidewalk counts as danger.”

“It’s not being held at gunpoint, though.”

What does he want, a congratulations that the one time you save him he isn’t seconds away from being shot or otherwise maimed?

“It’s still dangerous.”

But—you figure that there must be something in the water at the Daily Planet. One journalist acting recklessly for the sake of the greater good—and consequently roping in her own personal Kryptonian-on-call—is a fluke. A second one is too much of a coincidence. Especially considering the Kryptonian that Lina Dhar-Qian had was your cousin, Qian Kun, the one and only Superman.

Leaving you, Supergirl, to save the persistent Na Jaemin from certain death when he pokes too many sleeping dogs. You, however, lack the patience Kun had. Has. Then again, Kun and Lina are married. Have been for ages. That probably changes things.

Na Jaemin may be the prettiest person you’ve ever laid eyes on in the entire universe—and you’ve seen a lot—but that doesn’t quite cancel out his penchant for trouble that, at times, seriously concerns you.

A cough pulls you from studying the streak of white paint on Jaemin’s cheek—flushed red from the unforgiving summer heat and humidity.

A dark-haired guy looking close to Jaemin’s age gazes up at you two, bewildered.

“What happened?”

You decide now is a good time to set him down, having gotten distracted with your argument after you’d caught him, and remaining several feet in the air. Even so—Jaemin is one of the few men who are more or less okay with you carrying him. Once your feet are settled on the ground, he slides out of your arms with ease. An old song and dance for you two. Which is, again, concerning if you think about it.

“What’d you do?” his friend asks next, frowning at him.

“I fell off the ladder. What’d I do? Clearly suffered from the negligence of my friend, Renjun. I could’ve cracked my head open right here and died.”

“I see,” Renjun says, uninterested. He turns to you next. “Well, I suppose we should say thank you for making sure he sees tomorrow.”

I’m used to it, you want to say.

Supergirl, however, must reply, “No thanks needed. Please be more careful next time. Both of you. Using a ladder is more dangerous than you think, you know.”

“It’s not my fault,” Jaemin mutters. “He left.”

“For thirty seconds—”

“Thirty seconds is all it takes!”

“I swear to god, Jaemin…”

You gently interject, “What’s this for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

They stop their bickering. Renjun blinks a few times at you, then the wall, coughing.

“Oh, it’s—it’s supposed to be a mural I’m doing. Me and some other local artists are putting up murals around the city,” he explains, then hastily adds, “With permission, of course.”

You chuckle quietly. As if you’d do anything if it wasn’t done with permission. But back to what Renjun is saying…

“Did you do the one on the corner of Flanagan and 30th? The one of me?”

You know he did—you can recall the loopy signature on the corner reading, simply, Renjun. Unless this is another Renjun, but you don’t think so.

“I did.”

“It’s really nice,” you say truthfully. “Very… warm.”

His face lights up. “Thank you! That was my intention—part of it, anyway. A lot of depictions of you guys always seem so… cold. Great art, don’t get me wrong, but… too impartial for my personal tastes. Like you guys are bigger than life. Which you are, technically, but not like that… not in my opinion, anyway…”

Renjun is flushed and a tad sheepish by the end of his mini tirade. Jaemin stares at him like he can’t believe his eyes.

You smile at him. “Thank you, Renjun. That’s very kind of you to say. And for this—you just need the wall to be white to start?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“I can do it.”

That catches him off guard. Jaemin, on the other hand, says nothing and simply looks at you. You blame the jump in your pulse on the distant thundering crack of a tectonic plate moving on the west coast at that very moment.

“Oh, no, no, you don't have to do that. Jaemin and I—well, it should probably be me—”

“Hey.”

Renjun ignores him. “—can finish it. I’m sure you have more important—”

In the time that it takes for him to say the word important, you scoop up the can of paint and the brush and finish painting the wall white. The breeze hits in the next moment as you settle yourself back in front of them, smiling.

“—work…” he trails off, blinking a few times as he gazes at the now-white wall. Jaemin crosses his arms and turns a critical eye over it, as if searching for mistakes.

“Hope I didn’t miss anything,” you joke.

Renjun stares at you, looking a little starstruck all of a sudden. “Can I get a picture with you?”

You grin. “Sure.”

The shutter of the camera on his phone is loud as he takes a selfie of you two.

“Thank you so much… I really appreciate it…”

“Of course.”

Ten miles away, a fire alarm goes off. If you try hard enough, muddle through enough of the scents in the air, you can smell the building smoke.

You lift off the ground. “I should go. You two be safe.”

“Thanks,” Renjun says earnestly. “You, too.”

You wink and rap your knuckles against your chest. “Bulletproof. But thanks.”

You’re off in the next second. Despite the distance between you in the next handful of seconds, the thump of Jaemin’s heart lingers in your ears.

He has a steady heart.

You arrive at the burning apartment building just as he speaks.

“Really?”

You clear the first floor.

“She’s Supergirl,” comes Renjun’s grumbling response. “She’s cool. You aren’t going to make me feel bad for geeking out a little.”

Second floor.

“Hmm.”

“Don’t Hmm me. What about you, huh?”

Third floor.

“What about me?” Jaemin asks coolly.

Fourth floor. A teenager studying, a babysitter and a toddler, an elderly couple, a sleeping man. A fire truck and ambulance draw near, sirens piercing in your ears. You focus on the heartbeats leftover and underneath that, the conversation happening ten miles away.

“You know, I thought Hyuck was exaggerating when he was talking about your sleuthing.”

One more room left. The fire originates from here. You feel the heat of the flames but you’ve also felt the heat of the sun, so you dive in without fear. In the corner of the kitchen, a little girl and a Malinois puppy huddle together. A beam crumples and part of the ceiling caves. You catch it before it can crush them. The little girl, teary-eyed and helpless, gazes up at you with nothing short of relief.

Finally taking a breath, you hold it for one second as you toss the ceiling to the side, then release it as you take the girl and her puppy into your arms. Little hands and claws cling to you.

You get them out.

There are no casualties. A few burns, smoke inhalation, but no casualties. Katie, the nine-year-old girl you saved, inadvertently started the fire trying to cook for her mother, a janitor at Metropolis General pulling fifteen-hour workdays to pay the bills. She only wanted to do something nice for her. You text Kun and Lina about it, to make sure nothing bad happens to either of them because of it. Unlike them, there is only so much you can do as a civilian. Same with Supergirl, as officials deem you an outsider when it comes to these kinds of issues—useful only to pull people from burning buildings and to stop alien invasions.

During this, Renjun and Jaemin’s conversation has gone on unimpeded.

“Sleuthing,” Jaemin is saying, “sounds incredibly unprofessional. I’m a journalist. And Donghyuck is always exaggerating. I don’t even talk to him and Mark, you know that, right? Where are they getting their sources from?”

“Your headlines,” Renjun deadpans. “And the fact that every major story you’ve published in the last four months have featured Supergirl in some way or another, usually with a footnote—a footnote, Jaemin—about how you had your ass saved from certain death by her.”

“I have a word limit, alright?”

“You’re insane. Totally insane.”

“I love you, too, Renjunnie.”

“Where’s that ladder at? Get on it. I’m going to push you off.”

Jaemin’s laugh is warm in your ears.

You ignore the weight that forms in your chest and head home for the day.

You first met Jaemin when he was about to be shot. Specifically, shot by the Russian mafia for getting caught poking into their drug trades. The mobster had pulled the trigger. Bullet released from its chamber, aimed to kill, to ensure the things Jaemin had learned would never see the light of day.

If it were anywhere else, they’d likely succeed. But this is Metropolis. You can push your limits. Bullets can fire and you can still save someone.

It was close, though. Fired in an instant, Na Jaemin had not flinched but had instead braced, refusing to show fear to them. Very noble. Very impressive. Nonetheless—unnecessary. You pulled him out of the way and didn’t hesitate to take down the mobsters, either, tying them up and leaving them outside the dingy warehouse—because it’s always a warehouse these guys use to kill people—for the police to grab.

Then you went back to Jaemin and let time resume. Off-balance and disoriented, he stumbled right into your arms. Some initial pushback. But the fight left him just as quickly when he realized who you were, wide eyes taking in the symbol on your chest.

“It’s okay,” you had said to him gently, your hands on his arms. “You’re safe now.”

The adrenaline was quickly leaving him, his heart fluttering like a hummingbird in your ears, blood pumping, fear still tangible.

He had put up a good front in front of those mobsters. He really had. But it wasn’t good enough to fool you. But—that was perhaps the point. You were you. Supergirl. You weren’t just anyone else witnessing a vulnerable moment. That’s why, you think, for a few minutes, he was willing to let his guard down. You remember the way he shivered, one of his hands balling up the material of your cape.

“You’re safe now,” you had repeated and finally, it seemed to sink in. Or rather, what had kept him going finally gave out.

You helped him sit on the floor, kneeling beside him, keeping a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s your name?” you remember asking him gently, regaining his attention.

You remember him looking at you, really looking at you, the emotions in his dark eyes, revealed to you, reeling from the situation he had just been in. He had, in that moment, reminded you sharply of yourself. It was a discomforting thought, but no less true.

“Jaemin,” he had told you quietly, an accent curling his words faintly. “Na Jaemin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jaemin. I’m Supergirl.”

“I know.”

You had smiled, because you got that a lot when you said it, but there was something else that was… charming about the way he’d said that, so knowingly. And after that, after the police arrived and he was seen to and the story broke in the papers, his name underneath it, the moment had stuck with you. It usually doesn’t. You have an excellent memory and nine out of ten times you can recognize someone you’ve rescued but they don’t… linger with you.

Not in the way Na Jaemin did.

Then, one month later, you got a tip about an illegal arms deal involving two heavy-hitter players in Metropolis. When you arrived at the hotel it was taking place at, you bumped straight into Jaemin.

“Oh, you’re here,” he said when he saw you.

“Jaemin?”

He had only pointed at the men with machine guns advancing on you, said, “They’re trying to kill me,” then ran the other direction.

“The exit is the other way—!”

“I’m not done here yet!”

“Now, wait a second—” Your response was drowned out by gunfire. Bullets pelted you and clinked to the ground. By the time you handled them, delayed by your confusion over Jaemin’s decision, he was gone.

Well, he was in the stairwell, going down, and you could hear his heart, thumping quickly, less fear this time and more determination. But since he wasn’t in more danger, you decided to handle the gunmen first.

By the time you were finished with that, a few sounds from the basement gained your attention. When you ventured down, you found a stash of weapons far larger than expected, a knocked-out mobster, and Jaemin, with an abandoned crowbar near him and a split lip, snapping pictures.

“I’m not helpless,” was the only thing he had told you.

That set the tone for the rest of your relationship.

For the better and for the worse.

Blue-and-red lights flash rhythmically in the night. Coming up on three days of no sleep, it’s just about a siren’s call to close your eyes and drift off right there.

You do get energy from the sun—yellow suns specifically, and in this case, Sol, the star which makes you what you are—and can go longer stretches without having to eat or sleep than if you were under a red sun or if you were a regular old human, but at one point, you do need it and you are rapidly approaching that threshold.

It’s why you just about miss Jaemin.

“What happened here?”

Your head whips to the side, to where he now stands, gazing out at the scene, eyes tired, button-up and slacks rumpled, like he was sleeping at the office when he got the tip. He probably was. He shouldn’t, you’ve told him too many times to go home and rest. It’s not good for his health… though when he asks why you care, you say something lame about him getting slow because of it. Which is true and just as concerning but emptier without a pretext. But if you included one, you think he’d be even likelier to ignore you. He’s like that. You don’t know why. You wish you did.

Something cold slides into the loosely curled fingers of your hand. Your fingers close around it reflexively.

SNAP.

You blink, dropping your eyes from his face—now facing you—to your hand. Ink pools in your palm, staining your skin and the shattered bits of the pen, too. On the ground lies the other half of the pen.

“That,” Jaemin says, “is a terrible reflex.”

“I zoned out.”

“You were looking straight at me.”

“I zone out while looking at things and people sometimes,” you say defensively. “It happens.”

“Right,” he says doubtfully.

You wipe the ink on your hand on your cape, then reach up to dig the heels of your palms into your eyes. Colors starburst in the darkness of your eyelids. When you reopen your eyes, they feel ten times heavier.

“I’m just tired,” you mutter. “It is and isn’t a reflex. I’m just very good at subconsciously categorizing whether the thing in my hand is fine to be crushed or if it’s soft and fragile.”

“Soft and fragile.” His tone leaves much to be desired.

“Humans are. So are puppies. And cats. And other animals. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Hm.”

“Can’t tell you, either, by the way.” Referring to his initial question. What happened? An amateur bank break-in. Boring.

“Yes,” he says. “I figured.”

He always does this—if you’re the first on the scene and he’s second to follow, he’ll ask what happened and you’ll tell him the same thing: Can’t tell you.

“Why come out here knowing the answer is always going to be the same?”

A shrug. “Why not?”

You chuckle tiredly. “Touché.”

“You should go home and sleep if you’re tired.”

It’s childish, but you can’t help but reply, “You should go home and sleep.”

It’s dark, but you can see everything. Nothing is hidden from your sharp eyes. Neither is the way his lips twitch into a small, amused smile that he turns away to the police car parked near you.

“I will. Eventually. But between the two of us, I think you’re the biggest liability. Only one of us can destroy ten city blocks if we lose focus mid-flight.”

“I saw the mural,” you say instead of responding to that. “It turned out great.”

“Renjun is a great artist,” he agrees, and you think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him express that kind of admiration for someone.

A jaw-cracking yawn forces itself out of you at that moment.

“Seriously,” Jaemin says, exasperated now. “Go home.”

“Only if you do.”

“Only if I do?”

“What I do isn’t limited to just danger, you know. Although one could argue a sleep deprived human is dangerous—you know, the statistics—”

“No statistics.”

“Fine. But being moderately invested in your health and wellbeing, which does admittedly center around making sure you don’t die—”

He clicks his tongue. “It’s never that serious.”

“It’s always that serious, Jaemin. Anyway, as I was saying, it also includes ensuring you get an adequate amount of sleep.”

“Alright,” he says with a big sigh, like you’ve asked the world of him. And knowing him and his sometimes workaholic tendencies, it likely is. But nonetheless, you’re pleased that you’ve gotten him to agree to this much.

“Alright,” you agree, lifting from the ground. A warm summer breeze ruffles your cape. “Get home safe, Jaemin.”

He gives a lazy wave of his hand. You chuckle quietly and then, you’re off.

As previously mentioned, you consider Jaemin—and Kun and Lina and any other person involved in investigative journalism, or really any kind of journalism—to be much stronger than you. Not quite in the physical sense but more in that… doing what you do, you learn to focus on the silver linings, on the hope, on the possibility of a better future.

Now, obviously, is not quite that time. Not with the legislature that comes out every six months talking about whether to make superhumans register with the government—a bad decision, if it isn’t obvious—and then the other bills that come out about every three months about whether ‘Kryptonians are really necessary on earth.’ This typically involves something similar to a superhuman registry, though with a little more hostility and an open threat of death by Kryptonite or, if you’re lucky, a nuke (since that won’t kill you—not permanently anyway, it might scatter your particles a bit but you’d come back together eventually).

This is in addition to the many other issues this country and this world has. But you cannot give up that easily. And the truth of the matter is, being Supergirl already exposes you to the countless injustices of the world. Doing investigative journalism on top of that, you think, would ruin you completely.

This realization has caused its fair share of guilt, though Kun and Lina agree that it takes a different brand of strength to do what they do and that you shouldn’t force yourself to do something that will only make you suffer in the long run.

You’ve suffered enough, Kun once told you quietly.

So have you.

Yes, he had agreed. But I wasn’t alone.

Yes, you had thought. That did make quite a difference.

What do you do, then?

You bake. Specifically, you bake and do deliveries. Sleepless Bites specializes in late-night cookie deliveries. Its main demographic is college students, stoners, stoned college students, insomniacs, and the occasional sleep-deprived parent. It works well with your hectic schedule but can also provide some much-needed structure when you feel more Supergirl than you.

Most often, you work the night shift, baking the cookies and then delivering them. There used to be someone else with you, specifically the delivery driver (while you did the baking), but Jisung, the kid you’d worked with, wasn’t totally happy about working these shifts since they, obviously, messed with his sleep schedule. He’d fallen asleep one night and you felt bad about waking him up since he was also a student at Metropolis University. So you decided to take care of the delivery on your own. Only to end up nearly mugged at gunpoint.

You didn’t let it happen. Obviously. You came back safe and sound with the money and your tip, but the whole incident put management in a tizzy, mostly over concerns that you’d, you don’t know, sue them or something. And poor Jisung felt so bad about it, too. You were able to use it to your advantage, though, insisting you can take care of yourself and their profit—as evidenced by you coming back unscathed and that mugger getting arrested—and thus, they should return Jisung to the day shift and leave you on your own.

It sounds a bit crazy, you know, but they were greedy enough that they agreed easily, which means you have much more room to work with in terms of potential incidents during your shift where Supergirl is needed. Sleepless Bites is also only half a mile from the Daily Planet, so you occasionally get orders from Kun, who has an insatiable sweet tooth when he’s pulling all-nighters.

So, one warm summer evening, when an order pops up on the computer screen, delivery address listing the Daily Planet, you assume it’s Kun again. A smaller order than usual this time; he usually gets two sugar cookies, two chocolate chip cookies, and two peanut butter cookies. This one only asks for two oatmeal raisin cookies and one snickerdoodle cookie, as well as an order for a large coffee—also a first. But you assume he’s branching out, so you think nothing more of it.

You get the coffee made, the cookies warmed and tucked into the box, then reach for the order sticker.

Then you see the name.

Na Jaemin.

Identity is a tricky thing. For all beings of the universe, for all humans, and for you. You are you but you are also Supergirl. Or better put—Kryptonian. To those who do not know the truth about you, you are a human. Like to Mark and Donghyuck. You are a simple delivery girl. Human. Not extraordinary.

To those who only know you as Supergirl, you are just that—Supergirl. An alien. An ally, but also potentially an enemy. Someone to politely work with but also someone to fear. You smile and shake the mayor’s hand while knowing he has an under-the-table deal with the federal government for a stash of Kryptonite, to be used in the scenario in which you decided world domination better suited your interests than saving people.

The pool of people who really know you is a small one. Kun. Lina. Their son and your nephew, Jay. Kun’s adoptive mother, Maria Qian. And… that’s it. Most of the time, you can cope normally with this. You don’t have a lot of friends—any at all, actually—which means there is not much risk for exposing yourself. And Supergirl isn’t in the business of making friends, either. Well, she was, until…

This is what happens when those worlds get too close to each other. You’re standing outside of the Daily Planet, a fifteen-story glass building in the heart of downtown Metropolis, feeling like you’re about to throw down with Darkseid (this bad alien guy who tried to colonize earth a few years ago). When in all actuality, it’s just Jaemin. Normal and relatively harmless Jaemin.

You have your ball cap on, a simple black one with Sleepless Bites in white stitching, then your glasses, a pair of black unremarkable frames. You know it seems like a flimsy disguise. But according to Kun, half of the disguise banks on the fact that most people don’t want to accept that a Kryptonian, much less Superman himself, is standing in front of them. That Superman is the quiet and polite journalist Qian Kun, who is sometimes easy to miss, especially since Superman is a figure that is impossible to miss.

It is something of the same with you. But Jaemin isn’t just anybody on the street, he’s…

Well. It doesn’t matter.

Not many people are left in the building. The janitorial staff is finishing up their nightly cleaning duties. A few journalists burning the midnight oil. Or perhaps the poor interns enlisted to proofread for them. And Jaemin. His heart is easy to pick out in the onslaught of noise all around you. You resist the urge to use your X-ray vision and look through the layers of wall and plaster in front of you to spot him.

You take a deep breath that you, biologically speaking, don’t technically need but helps soothe a bit of your nerves anyway. Your heart, though, pounds erratically in your chest. It feels impossibly loud to your ears, nearly drowning out everything else. You’re never usually this nervous around him but—being around him as Supergirl is easier because the roles are known and played. He is the persistent journalist that gets himself into trouble. You are the superhero tasked with getting him out of it.

But you as you are right now? Nothing for it. This is… no man’s land.

The glass door swings open. A sleepy-eyed Jaemin emerges, ushering a familiar burst of warmth in your chest. Oddly assured at the final sight of him in front of your eyes, you step out of the delivery car, meeting him halfway.

Clearing your throat and praying he’s tired enough not to focus too much on your voice, you ask, “For Jaemin?”

You meet his gaze for a moment, then avert your eyes to the sticker on the box of cookies, listing his order.

“Yeah.”

You trade him the box of cookies for the twenty-dollar bill, ducking your head as you start to thumb out his change.

“Uh, that’s…”

“Keep the change,” he says. “Your tip.”

“Thank you.” You flash him a quick customer service smile, then as you start to turn away, you add, “Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

“Thanks.”

You’re turned away before he is, striding for the delivery car. It takes him exactly two seconds before he himself turns around and starts heading for the doors again. Two seconds in which you clearly feel his gaze on your back. Two seconds is only an eternity to you, though; to him, a human, it’s fleeting—nothing.

It’s nothing at all.

In your six years operating in Metropolis—having started at the age of eighteen—you’ve had a number of journalists attempt to unveil your identity to the masses. Many of them used the defense that that’s what the point of their job is. Lina Dhar-Qian, the first and only journalist to ever figure out a superhero’s identity (not that anyone else knows but, you know), disagrees.

It’s not that they don’t have an obligation to do those things, it’s more that, well, most of them wanted to do it for the inevitable acclaim that would come with revealing such a fact about a… controversial figure within the world. Though Maria Qian, Kun’s adoptive mother, always believed public opinion would be split in half. There would inevitably be those who see it as a good thing, mostly those who are suspicious of Kryptonians and would rather see them leashed much tighter to the US government rather than the UN (both for the sake of potential uprisings but also—and this is the part they hate to admit—so that they’d have such a powerful backing against whoever they deemed the enemy that day).

But then, she would insist to you, Kun, and Lina, the other half would see it in a negative light—a breach of privacy, a wrongdoing against you and Kun, who have worked so tirelessly for this city and this world, swooping in during natural disasters, minimizing the time and effort for search and rescue. So, maybe someone like Huang Renjun, whose mural depicted you so warmly, seeing you as you are, for as potentially harmful as that may be.

It is… nice to have someone see you for the thinking and feelings being that you are, rather than an untouchable, larger-than-life alien deigning to help out a lower life form. You won’t try and say that it isn’t. But again—whether it’s good, is another question.

Nonetheless.

Attempts to reveal your identity are old hat. You are used to them. You know how to deal with them. There’s a habit, you’ve noticed, for new additions or transfers to the Daily Planet; quite a few of them take it upon themselves to try and reveal your identity and prove themselves to the newsroom at the same time. They never succeed, of course—laying low like you do with your job at Sleepless Bites gives you a significant advantage in comparison to Kun, who oftentimes relies on coincidence to cover himself. But it happens. The editors never quite dissuade them, either. You imagine, to them, the chances are low but never quite zero. So, why not? They’re happy to watch these guys run in circles chasing their own tails.

It’s a bit cruel, in your opinion, but what do you know?

This is all to say, shortly after Jaemin’s arrival in Metropolis and after your first and second meeting, he gets, not a gentle nudge, but a full push into chasing down your identity. Admittedly, it also comes on the tail of him exposing a few drug rings in the city and the officials caught up with them, so you figure it is equal parts wanting to watch a newbie spin his wheels but also maybe he could figure it out.

And this all happens right in front of you, one day. You took lunch with Kun, who had subtly complained about not seeing you recently and not knowing what was going on with you.

“There’s never anything going on with me,” you mumble to him, spearing a piece of chicken into your mouth. The two of you are crammed into his cubicle, which, as always, looks like a tornado just came through, papers strewn over his desk, PC tower wheezing and working overtime with an unfinished Word document running behind fifty-something tabs on Chrome.

“What about that guy you work with? Didn’t you hang out with him recently?” he asks, eating a sad-looking salad but not seeming to notice that fact as he hones his focus on you.

“Jisung. I was going to. A basketball game at Met U, his friend plays for them. But the night of we got called out for those wildfires in California, remember?”

“Ah,” he says, grimacing. “I remember. It took days to get the smell of smoke out of my suit. And hair.”

Movement to your left. Crinkling brown eyes peer over the cubicle wall. “Taeyong kept complaining it smelled like burnt popcorn in here.”

You laugh. Kun chuckles, too.

Grinning, Lina comes around to lean against the opening, arms crossed.

“Jay’s been asking about you,” she says. “Let us know when you’re off. He’s dying for a sleepover and we’re dying for a date night.”

“Don’t tell him it’s a date night. He’ll insist I need to patrol so that nothing bothers you two, and that he also needs to come with me because leaving him alone otherwise would be child neglect and in that case, having him help out would be ‘convenient, but also educational.’” You give them both a flat look. You figure most nine-year-olds are generally a little bit conniving, but you’re also very certain his parents play a role in that.

Kun jabs a thumb at his wife. “He gets that from her.”

“Actually, if I remember correctly, that’s technically all you.”

You pretend to throw up. Kun smacks you with a bound stack of papers and Lina laughs.

“Oh, Lina, there you are! You know Jaemin, right? One of our newest? He did that piece on the comptroller.”

You can’t see them from your corner in the cubicle—Joey, the editor always getting on Lina’s nerves, or Jaemin—but you can tell the former is strong-arming the latter next to him, who keeps shifting on his feet, obviously uncomfortable.

“Right. That was a good one.” She doesn’t hold back the respect in her tone.

“Thank you,” comes Jaemin’s quiet reply.

“I was just telling him—if he could use those investigative skills for Supergirl, that would be great, wouldn’t it? Although Superman’s invulnerable—heh—” Kun makes a face, and you smile down at the stack of papers in your lap “—to any and all attempts at his identity, including yours, and you’ve been working his beat for a long time, I figure Supergirl’s free game, isn’t she?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Lina says passively.

“Oh, come on.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Joey. I’ve been working the, as you say, Superman beat, for over a decade. If I haven’t figured out his identity yet, then I think Jaemin’s chances with Supergirl are just as low.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot.” Joey is looking at Jaemin now. “Give it a shot, rookie, and see where it gets you. She’s rescued you twice now, hasn’t she?”

“Really?” Lina asks.

You feel Kun’s eyes on you for a moment before he averts them to his sad salad. Jaemin reluctantly—so very reluctantly—affirms this.

“Does that change anything?” Joey asks her hopefully.

“No,” she says mercilessly. “Supergirl saves hundreds of people every day. Statistically, there are bound to be some journalists she saves and there are also bound to be repeats. No offense, Jaemin, but I wouldn’t consider you overly remarkable in her eyes.”

“None taken,” he quickly says. “I completely agree.”

“He needs to stand out,” Joey says, taking her words as some kind of suggestion of action rather than the clear dismissal that it is. “Of course. That’s it. Thank you, Lina.”

Joey, once again physically strong-arming Jaemin, turns them around.

“That’s not what I meant,” she mutters under her breath.

You don’t say anything and neither does Kun. You’re both still listening.

“What I think you need to do now is most likely try to get within her proximity. You know what I mean? Show up where she is. Establish a rapport like Lina has with Superman. You know, I get where Lina was coming from, if she can’t figure out his identity, then who can? But it’ll be different with you and Supergirl.”

“And by that you mean…”

The sound of a hand meeting clothing. Joey must’ve finally let him go and clapped him on his shoulder just now.

“You don’t need me to say it, do you? Our female interns haven’t been able to keep their eyes off you since you came here. And Supergirl is, well, a girl. You get me?”

Crunch. Kun bites roughly onto a piece of lettuce.

“Maybe,” Jaemin says at last. His voice is tight, obviously discomforted. “Excuse me, I should go… Taeyong wanted to see me about something…”

“Think about it!”

Jaemin grunts and you can hear him striding away quickly, mumbling something in Korean under his breath.

You pull your focus back to the cubicle, shaking your head. “Well, that was fucked up.”

“Maybe Superman should give him a visit…”

You kick him. He curses lowly, pain flashing across his face.

“Don’t do that. That’ll gain too much attention. And I can take care of myself…”

“Of that, I am aware. Wouldn’t be entirely selfless, either. A few weeks ago, he said my writing was too bland. Jerk.”

“Droning,” Lina says. “Not bland.”

“Is there even a difference?”

She shrugs, then turns to you. “Anyway, I didn’t realize that, hm, Supergirl had saved Jaemin.”

“He mentions that in his article…”

“You read what he wrote?”

Your eyes dart between your pseudo-cousin’s shocked face and the eyebrow raise Lina is giving you.

“Wh—yes? Why is that so surprising?”

Kun and Lina look at each other, then back at you.

“I did read it,” she says next. “Well, skimmed it. Still. He’s got a lot of potential.”

“He does,” Kun agrees, setting aside his salad. “He reminds me a bit of Lina, actually. Cape chasing and all.”

She looks at you. “Kick him again, would you?”

You kick him again.

“Ow…”

“He’s not cape chasing, I think,” you murmur. “In fact, the second time we met, he seemed more than happy to prove that he didn’t need me.”

“He’s got something to prove,” Lina says. “I don’t exactly blame him.”

“Not at the expense of his life, though,” Kun disagrees.

You make a sound of agreement.

She wiggles her fingers at you. “You two. The exact same. In any case. Is this a foreseeable problem for Supergirl?”

Considering how persistent he seems, how he, as Lina says, seems to have something to prove… maybe so. You’ll simply have to be more careful and try to avoid him.

“No,” you say. “I don’t think it will.”

They give you lingering looks but don’t bring it up any longer.

But the thing about Jaemin is that, once he’s got an idea in his head, he won’t let it go, come hell or high water. And the thing about you is that you’re prepared to handle people trying to dig into your past. From journalists to amateur sleuths to the government sending satellites to try and track your flight paths and pinpoint your home (or as they’d call it, ‘base of operation’ or some really dramatic shit like that).

So, for the next couple weeks, you do your job as you normally do, with perhaps a little more vigilance than usual for spotting journalists. With, of course, the caveat that if you do end up getting tailed or cornered or something like that, you know precisely what to do to throw Jaemin off your tail.

This all comes to a head when a LexCorp research and development lab explodes. Messing, as usual, with things that are best left alone. You and Kun are both first on the scene, ushering out scientists and immediately clocking the radiation; not high enough to evacuate the entire block, but high enough to have the labs sealed and a perimeter set up, with only those with the proper protection allowed in and out.

You’re already not looking forward to having to rinse off at the end of the day when Kun puts you in charge of the back entrance while he does a little more digging. You’re a potential guard against any errant employees or otherwise people sent to do LexCorp’s dirty work and clean up the mess before the authorities can get their hands on it, but also against those who might be interested in poaching whatever goods they’ve got.

At some point in the evening, you floated up from the ground, crossing your legs beneath you as you watched the back entrance. It gives you the perfect vantage point to spot a very familiar Na Jaemin creeping around rubble and taking pictures. It’s only when he gets too close to the entrance do you say something.

“I really wouldn’t.”

You partially expect for him to be surprised at your entrance—he is not. A small flinch initially, but he recovers quickly, like he was expecting you.

“I knew it,” he says.

You lower yourself to the ground. “I’m sorry. It’s just not allowed—it’s dangerous in there if you don’t have the proper equipment and the mask helps but—”

“I’m not talking about that,” he says, waving a hand. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to go in. I really don’t want to, either. Lina’s got this story handled and I’ll be honest, I’m not interested in subjecting myself to that, even for the sake of justice.”

You cock your head. It is perhaps safe to say this is your first at length conversation with him and right off the bat, what an interesting thing to say. For the sake of justice, huh? Maybe you two have more in common than you think… Plus that stunning show of self-preservation, after Lina’s initial insistence, is a nice change of pace.

If you don’t consider the fact that he might be planning to figure out your identity and expose you to the rest of the world, you’d soften a lot on him.

As it currently is…

“Then what are you interested in, Jaemin?“

He looks at you for a moment. It is a moonless night and back here, there is minimal lighting, the power having been blown out from the explosion. You know you must be hard to make out but for you, you can make him out easily.

His dark hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it all night, and there are deep bags beneath his eyes—deeper than before, than the previous times you have seen him. Like he’s been toiling about something.

But when your eyes meet his, you see nothing but determination there.

It makes you falter for just a second, wondering, perhaps, if he’s already pulled the rug out underneath you, if he’s figured it out. It shouldn’t be possible, he’s never seen your civilian identity—been in proximity, yes, but he didn’t see you, did he?

“Who are you?”

Huh.

“No one’s ever asked me so bluntly,” you say. “Kind of a nice change of pace. But you know I can’t answer that, don’t you?”

“I know. I don’t really care, either, to be honest.”

And the crazy thing is, he’s telling the truth. That, or Na Jaemin is a professional liar and knows how to control his pulse. But you don’t think this is that.

“Is that so?”

“It’s a waste. A waste of time, of effort. There is no use in chasing a mystery like that.”

“No?”

“No. The only thing I want to know,” he says, gazing steadily at you, “is what that means.”

Jaemin points at your chest—specifically, the symbol on your chest.

“It’s not a letter,” he adds. “I know that much. You’re aliens, why would you use the English alphabet? So, I figure, it’s a symbol. It means something to you.”

“To Superman,” you add gently, because the symbol is on his chest, too.

“I don’t care about him.”

You pause, not quite sure what to say. Everyone cares about Superman. They love him. They revere him. Or they hate him completely. Either way, sometimes, a lot of the time, it becomes your problem. Which is not to say you have a problem with Kun. You don’t. But what he does reflects on you.

But this is…

You smile. “Na Jaemin, you are the strangest being I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” you say, and you mean it, too.

A pause, a moment of understanding passing between you two, like before now, you’ve been working on two different wavelengths. You suspect, that though you now seem to be on the same one, you’ll still be on opposite ends, but nonetheless…

“It means hope,” you tell him softly. “This symbol that we wear, that I wear, it means hope.”

“Hope,” he repeats, more to himself than anything else, gaze clinging to the symbol for another minute before he looks back at you. “I understand. Thank you.”

It’s earnest. Genuine. And you can also understand that he does not intend to make this knowledge public. He can and it likely wouldn’t hurt but he won’t.

Jaemin takes a step back, his objective now completed.

One last glance, then he turns and leaves. You watch him until he disappears around a corner, no longer in your immediate field of vision.

And the next day and over the days after that, nothing happens. Nothing comes out in the papers about you or Kun. Jaemin keeps his unspoken word, just as you thought he would.

“But… how do you really know there’s nothing there?”

“Jay, kiddo, I told you. Jupiter is a gas planet. Beneath the surface is just—wait for it, gasp—more gas.”

Jay Dhar-Qian, your nephew, purses his lips, brown eyes focused on the Jenga piece he’s pulling out of the tower of them.

“But have you ever gone in?”

“Well, no, but again—”

“So, you don’t know. Mom says firsthand experiences are important in the field—”

You laugh. “Of journalism! And, yeah, some of science, too, but humans have come up with plenty of solid theories about space without going out there and exploring because they don’t have the means to. The one about Jupiter being a gas planet? Unfortunately, very true.”

“I think you need to go in there and see,” he says decisively, setting the piece he pulled on top of the tower. “Then get back to NASA.”

“Oh, they’ll love that, I’m sure. Your dad and I regularly break multiple laws of physics, you know, which bothers them enough. They won’t be happy to hear their theories about gas planets being disproven.”

“Facts don’t care about feelings,” he mumbles, folding his arms on your coffee table and watching you pull out a block at the bottom.

Though, you have to pause that way you can laugh. He smiles faintly at the table, which isn’t quite the reaction you expected from that; you don’t let him know that, however, resuming your task of pulling out the Jenga piece from the middle section. You set it on the top.

“I guess,” he goes on, finger tracing a scratch in the wood, “I’ll only really believe it if I see it. So… when I get my powers, let’s go see it, okay?”

Ah.

Jay Dhar-Qian, the first of his kind, Kryptonian and human—your nephew for all intents and purposes, even if you aren’t technically biologically related to Kun.

This can, as anyone might imagine, come with baggage.

But you don’t touch on that yet. “There are spacesuits, you know. We could just get you one of those. If we ask NASA very nicely, they’ll probably give us one.”

“That’s not as fun,” he mumbles.

You don’t say anything, watching him reach for a piece from the second row from the bottom. He pokes it out oh-so-carefully but the tower wobbles precariously, then falls in a crash. A few Jenga pieces tumble off the edge of the coffee table.

He slumps back against the couch. “I lose.”

“Jay…”

“I know what you’re going to say. It’ll take time, no one like me has ever existed before, we don’t know anything about how I’m growing or how my powers will develop since I’m Kryptonian and human. I have invulnerability but it doesn’t even stay on all the time. I scraped my knee the other day, you know? It was embarrassing. I just want to be like you and Dad…” He ends his tirade of frustration by knocking his head against the edge of the couch, glaring sullenly at your popcorn ceiling.

You purse your lips, thinking for a moment. This has been a growing concern for him—and for Kun and Lina as well. Less so that they wanted Jay to even have powers in the first place and more so that Jay seemed to be vying for his powers for some misguided wish of belonging. You know that sounds harsh, especially since belonging might be even more critical for him, with one foot in the world you live in and another one in a dead one, but despite that, or perhaps in spite of it, you—and Kun and Lina and Maria—fully believe that Jay will be able to feel at home here, powers or not.

He wants to prove himself, you think, and considering the shadow that his father does cast—consciously and subconsciously, because the world needs it, but his son doesn’t—as well as your reach, though you’d hardly consider yourself as weighty as Kun is, well, it is a lot of pressure. Pressure you and Kun have never subscribed to him, to be clear, but some that he feels, nonetheless.

It’s a lot for a kid. You know very well what that feels like.

“Jay… you are the best of us. But that doesn’t mean you need to go out there and carry the weight of the world. You don’t need powers. You don’t need anything.”

He leans his head on your arm, and you are suddenly aware of how small he is next to you, little scamp that he is.

“I wanna be like you guys, though. I wanna help people.”

You curl an arm around him. “There are plenty of other ways to do that. I promise. And we’ll help you find them. Alright?”

He mumbles his assent, curling further into your side; you’ll coax him out eventually with the promise of ice cream and his favorite movie but for now, you let him hide from the rest of the world. And because when you do that, he does respond, and after a bit of time, he’s back to his old self again, you don’t linger too long on the issue. It remains in the back of your mind, poised to be brought up again next time you see Kun and Lina, but in the present moment, you decide that for now, Jay is okay.

For now, as you will find out, is not good enough. Because the next day, when you wake up—he’s gone.

Chronologically speaking, you are older than Kun. By a solid ten years, in fact.

His parents were friends with yours. And so, you vividly remember the day he was born. At ten-years-old, you were not too interested in this red, wrinkly-faced baby, who could only cry, sleep, and eat. And when you were sent off, with the instructions, among other things, to look out for who was essentially your cousin, Kun, you were very much older than him.

But then there were issues with the ship itself, and space is unfathomably harsh, and time and gravity are even worse, so, when you landed on earth at the age of sixteen, you did find your cousin—coming up on more than a decade of Superman, married, with a kid.

Those first few years were, as one can imagine, difficult. But you really would not trade it for anything in the world. And with Jay, in many ways, it feels a lot like finally fulfilling the wish of your mother. You couldn’t take care of Kun, not in the ways she had envisioned, because his adoptive parents, the ones who found him in a cornfield in Smallville, Kansas, Yuzhe and Maria Qian, had already done so. But you could—can—take care of Jay. So, you do.

People don’t know about him—they don’t know that there is another Kryptonian on earth, much less the son of Superman. And if they did? You are certain the thought of Superman—a Kryptonian—reproducing in any way would make the government implode on itself.

So. When you wake up the next morning to find Jay missing from your sofa bed, you panic.

It’s not like him, to do things like this, especially when you don’t find a note or anything. He may be invulnerable (occasionally) and raised with the optimistic kindness of Kun and the eagle-eyed shrewdness of Lina, but he’s still a kid.

You inform Kun as soon as you realize it, already forming a list of spots to hit—places familiar to him, like their apartment, his school, that fro-yo spot on Elderberry—and your cousin affirms your plan and promises to head over, since he and Lina are on the west coast for a convention. He’s mostly calm, too, which helps your panic but not quite the bundle of guilt in your chest. Still, you figure that can be addressed after you find your escapee nephew.

Then—you hit the streets. You get more than one complaint from pedestrians as you fly through the city a little faster than usual, wind whipping behind you and glass windows rattling in your wake, jostling coffee cups and papers and whatever else is light enough and unlucky enough to be caught in your path.

But as you continue to fail to find Jay and Kun does, too, having gotten in ten minutes after you set off, your initial panic returns and you care more about finding Jay than your speed.

Nightmare scenarios keep running in your mind, varying from him being abducted by any number of entities, government and not, for experimentation, to his flight suddenly developing and him panicking and leaving the city and landing in another continent, or hell, off planet entirely. You keep them to yourself, though, refusing to burden Kun even more as you can see his patience start to wear thin.

So, while he pauses to regroup with Lina—also worried out of her mind—you run through the city again.

Their apartment. His school. The Daily Planet. The fro-yo place. The—

“Supergirl!”

Your body stops before your mind processes it. Mostly because, instinctively, you recognize the voice.

“Jaemin, I’m sorry, I really don’t have time—”

“Are you looking for a kid?”

Jaemin is unbothered by the whip of wind as you flash over to him. He does, however, seem curious.

“Where?”

“Here.” He looks to the side, and you do, too. A new apartment building still under construction looks back at you, a hole in the fence right in front of you.

You duck through without a word. And like always, Jaemin follows you.

Heartbeats are hard to use on their own as locators, there is simply too much feedback, but they are familiar, nonetheless. In the present state that you are, you couldn’t make an effort to even try picking it out. But Jay’s heart pounds quick. You can hear his breathing, faster than normal, small whimpers impossibly loud to your sharp ears. You’re on the fourth floor before you know it. You hear Jaemin curse under his breath, left behind on the first flight of stairs, shoes thumping on the steps faster now.

You tune it out as soon as you spot Jay. Using your X-ray vision, you peel back the only layer between you, the door of a maintenance closet, where he’s curled up in the corner, face buried in his arms. Jaemin is on the second flight now. Still far enough for you to kneel in front of the closed door, flattening your palm on lacquered wood and whispering Jay’s name.

“Tell me what’s wrong, kiddo.”

“There’s—too much,” he says, voice strangled. “There’s too much.”

“Too much?”

He curls further into himself. “The world is too big.”

Looks like you were right. His powers—his senses only, maybe X-ray vision, too—developed overnight or just a few minutes ago.

“Make it smaller,” you say softly.

“How?”

“Focus on my voice. Pretend… it’s an island. Out in the ocean. Can you see it? Look hard, Jay. I know you can find it.”

As you speak, you can sense the shift in his focus as he tries to do as you say. His breathing is still quick but lesser than before, same with his heart.

Finally, in a trembling whisper, “I can see it.”

You reach for the doorknob, speaking as you turn it, as the gears turn and move, “Then swim toward it, kiddo.”

He sucks in a breath when you open the door, but you can see the tension starting to seep out of his body. Slowly, he lifts his head from his arms, but his eyes are still screwed shut. You open your mouth to tell him to open his eyes.

Then, Jaemin comes in. Your body moves before you can process it, shielding Jay’s face from him, because Kun and Lina have brought him to work countless times and you don’t know if Jaemin’s ever seen him. The tension returns to Jay in an instant. It sets you on edge for a reason you can’t quite articulate, your hand shooting out behind you. Jaemin stops in his tracks at your signal.

“Who is that?! Who’s—”

“It’s okay,” you quickly soothe. “It’s alright. He’s just a—a friend. It’s okay.”

“No… no…”His pulse picks up. So does his breathing.

You utter his name under your breath, unheard to Jaemin’s human ears but easily audible to Jay’s newly sensitive ears.

“It’s okay, I promise, nothing bad is going to happen—”

“No, no,” he cries. “There’s too much—it’s too hot—I don’t know what—”

Red begins to glow beneath his eyes. Then they open.

His heat vision is new and unlearned. Because of that, it burns the hottest it can go.

Your suit is built to mostly withstand what you can withstand. The freezing cold of space, nearly absolute zero, and the burning heat of the sun. But a Kryptonian’s heat vision can be as hot as the surface of the sun. Hotter, if anything. Concentrated as it is, it shreds through the fabric at your arm, thrown over your face as you moved to intercept its path, which had been aimed right over your shoulder.

So, Jay’s heat vision burns like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

You feel it tear through your skin, blood pooling, dripping onto the floor. If you keep letting it hit you, it’ll do worse, split your forearm open like a sieve. But Jay is past the point of coherency. Nerve strikes don’t work on you—Kryptonian physiology is very different from a human’s under the surface—but you bank on the very human part of Jay’s DNA to work in your favor, and as you rush forward, gritting your teeth at the white-hot pain of his heat vision burning into your skin, you find it works well on him.

He slumps in your arms in the next second, heat vision flickering out, eyes fluttering closed. For a moment, you just breathe, cradling him to your body. Your left arm trembles from the pain.

As you watch your blood drip onto the concrete floor, crimson on dusty grey, all you can think is this is the first time in a long time that you’ve seen your own blood. The slow intake of breath behind you reminds you of Jaemin’s presence. His pulse is a little unsteady, breathing the same. At that moment, it sinks in for you—what he’s seen.

He knows this is another Kryptonian.

Shit.

You reach up to unclasp your cape and wrap it around Jay, using it to keep his face hidden.

“Kun,” you whisper. “Kun, I have Jay.”

You know he hears you because in the next second, you hear the unmistakable boom of the sound barrier breaking from his path. And in the second after that, with a sharp gust of wind that makes your wounded arm throb, he’s behind you, a hand on your shoulder. You stand. He shields you and Jay from Jaemin.

“Your arm—”

“I’m fine. I’ll… be fine. His powers—I don’t know what he has entirely, but his senses and his heat vision are definitely there.”

He takes Jay from your arms. “Alright. And…” The way he trails off in combination with the way his gaze slides left leaves an open and urgent question about Jaemin’s presence.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Be careful,” he says quietly, and you know he also realizes the weight of the situation. How quickly south this can go depending… Depending on Jaemin. One last lingering look, then Kun is gone.

And Jaemin is still there. Looking at you, eyebrows knitted together. The absence of your cape is noticeable. A missing weight on your shoulders. You feel like a turtle without its shell.

“Jaemin, listen…” Your heart thunders in your own ears. In that moment, you feel a little like Jay must’ve, overstimulated and knee-deep in panic because of it. “You just—you have to understand, I… we…”

How do you say this? How do you tell him? Should you even tell him? Can you spin this in a way that doesn’t reveal Jay’s parentage? You’ve never really… lied to Jaemin. You don’t lie. You just… don’t tell him things. He once asked if you had a job and you said yes. He asked what and you said, Nothing interesting. And that was—is—true and he left it at that.

You clench and unclench your hands. The movement sends pain rippling through your forearm, still bleeding onto the floor. You make an absent note to clean up the blood before you leave.

It’s like you said. The world would lose its mind if they found out Superman had a child. That he had a child with a human. That there was another Kryptonian here—one with powers, no less, one who, if the rest of his powers develop, will come across as more Kryptonian than human.

People don’t think of Superman and Supergirl as people. As your average everyday Joe. That is the point of this persona. That you aren’t and you help people because of it. But that’s as far as people’s patience will extend. Most think you and Kun don’t even live in Metropolis proper, that you two hide away and only come out during crises. No one wants to consider the fact that Superman—an alien—might be walking among them.

You don’t want to think badly of Jaemin, but you know well that this changes things drastically, maybe enough to have him reconsidering his position in relation to you.

“He’s… Don’t… He’s just a kid,” you say weakly. “He’s just—a kid. Just a kid.”

Realization flashes across his face. “I’m not going to say anything,” he says. “I never was.”

Your shoulders drop in relief. “Thank you.”

He shifts on his feet, frowning, teeth digging into his bottom lip for a moment before releasing it. “Why—I would never… I mean. He’s just a kid.”

“I had to be sure,” you whisper. “Because it’s—it’s different. With the kid. He’s… People would do a lot to kill him or experiment on him.”

He nods along slowly, understanding. An odd silence unfolds between you two; this is new territory entirely and the newness of it leaves you both uncertain of your places.

Jaemin blows out a breath. “You don’t have to tell me anything but… is he… yours?”

“No! No, no, he’s…” You stop, swallowing. “You have to swear not to tell anyone, Jaemin.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“He’s Superman’s,” you reveal quietly. “And I’m—Superman and I are like family. The kid is like a nephew to me.”

“And his mom…”

“She’s human,” you admit.

His eyes widen. It’s not entirely surprising that that is the thing that surprises him the most and less so that Superman had a kid. Humans have such a hard time compartmentalizing the thought of Superman walking among them, much less a Kryptonian being involved with a human in that way. But, to you, even in the beginning, it wasn’t anything to scrutinize. Interspecies relationships are alive and thriving outside of earth and your time in space gave you great insight into that. More than that—well, the Kryptonian dating pool is kind of… small, for obvious reasons.

“So… his powers…”

“He’s the first of his kind,” you murmur. “We had no idea how he would develop. We still really don’t. Today… they developed. We weren’t prepared. But he’s not dangerous. I mean—he needs to learn control. But that’s it. Control for us is easy.”

He nods slowly, gaze dropping to the floor thoughtfully as he mulls over your words. You figure you two are out of dangerous territory, but it still makes you nervous.

Eventually, his gaze returns to yours. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

You close your eyes, sighing. “Thank you.”

“You’re hurt.”

Reopening your eyes, you glance down at your arm; the wound runs lengthways of your forearm, still weeping, though it’s slowed significantly, blood starting to congeal.

“I just need sun. That’s all.”

Although, because it’s from heat vision, it’ll take longer to heal, which won’t do. You might need to go off-planet and get closer to the sun. A sun. NASA doesn’t like when you and Kun get too close to Sol.

Movement from Jaemin regains your attention. You watch as he shuffles closer, digging through his messenger bag for something. You aren’t sure what until he pulls out a small first aid kit.

“No, Jaemin. Keep that for yourself—”

“You’re bleeding everywhere,” he scolds. “It’s a biohazard.”

“I promise I’m not carrying any extraterrestrial or inter-dimensional diseases.”

“Even so. It should be covered up.” He pulls out a roll of gauze, closing the distance between you. You find yourself raising your arm to him without prompt. You can never really say no to him.

Gently, he winds the gauze around your arm. You grit your teeth at the pain that throbs through your arm.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

He nods, putting the roll away. You glance at your arm, gauze neatly wrapped around your arm. Blood is already starting to dot through the fabric. You really need to head out and get this fixed.

“I should go,” you sigh. “Thank you again. Really. For everything.”

He rubs the back of his neck, almost bashful. “You’re welcome…”

“Get home safe, please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you, too.”

You’ll be just fine. Eventually. All that’s left now is the aftermath.

In the summer, Smallville, Kansas is hot and dry. But at night, the heat is less blistering and more soothing. After spending the last few hours in the freezing cold of space, it’s nice against your skin, warm air blowing through your hair as you fly for the Qian farm on the outside of town.

Your arm is fully healed, thanks to the time hanging out halfway between Sol and Mercury—as far as you think you could go without making the NASA people twitchy. You stopped by your place in Metropolis to pull out a replacement suit—flying without your cape makes you uncomfortable—and a set of clothes. Clothes that you change into as soon as you get close to the farm.

The house comes into view. An invisible weight peels from your shoulders. You sigh. There is only one place on earth where you get to be yourself—get to feel like yourself. That is the Qian farm.

Kun meets you at the porch steps.

“How is he?” you ask immediately.

“Shaken but alright.”

His eyes flicker to your arm in the next second, a clear question in the action—an action that must go unspoken, since Jay’s superhearing has obviously kicked in and neither of you want to make him feel bad if he’s listening in—which he most likely is. You would.

You raise your arm for him to look at—the skin is healed, unmarred, as if nothing ever happened. Nodding, he clasps a hand over your forearm, squeezing gently. You pat his hand.

Kun tilts his head. “He’s in his room. Have at it.”

The screen door slams shut behind you. In the kitchen, freshly washed dishes sit on a drying mat beside the sink; you can smell the remnants of whatever they had for dinner. In the living room, the TV is on, playing reruns of soaps that Maria and Kun are fond of watching together. You greet Maria, then head further in, finding Jay’s bedroom.

You knock gently on the closed door. “Kiddo? Can I come in?”

Waiting a moment, you get no response, though you know he’s in there. You can hear him breathing, hear his heartbeat, which has picked up its pace out of nervousness.

“I’m coming in.”

His bedroom is full of everything that makes Jay, well, Jay. Dark blue walls, a solar system hanging in one corner, Star Wars and Star Trek posters decorating the walls, LEGO sets decorating his desk and dresser. Your shoe nudges a baseball. It rolls underneath the desk.

On the twin bed, Jay is nothing more than a lump of planet-themed blankets and sheets. Dusty, a black and white Border Collie, lifts his head from where he lays at the foot of the bed, curled over Jay’s feet underneath the blankets.

You sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out a tentative hand to what should be his head. “Jay?”

Quiet for yet another moment. But then, he shifts, covers tugging down slightly for his hair and eyes to be revealed. He still doesn’t look at you, though.

“‘M sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you are, kiddo. There’s nothing to forgive.” He was forgiven even before it happened. You know what it’s like to deal with the onslaught of the powers, of the ways in which the yellow sun fuels you differently than a red sun does. Especially to have them develop here on earth, where there is so much noise.

A small shake of his head as he stares determinedly at the footboard, away from you. “I could’ve—could’ve killed you.”

Sighing quietly, you kick off your sneakers and bring your legs up onto the bed, turning onto your side and pulling Jay closer to you.

Leaning your head on his, you murmur, “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“You don’t—”

“Maybe, if it had been anyone else. That… is the truth of our powers. We can really hurt someone—each other, but also, more importantly, humans. That’s the truth, Jay. There’s no sense in denying it. You can hurt someone if you aren’t careful. But what happened today was an accident. And no, that’s not really an excuse, but that’s for us, for your dad and I, because we know our limits. You don’t. Your powers just developed, there is no possible way you could know the ins and outs about controlling them. I don’t want you to be hard on yourself because of this. I’m fine. I’m completely okay. All you need to do now is learn to control them and your dad and I are going to be there every step of the way, okay?”

“Okay.” His voice is small. He curls into you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You squeeze him for emphasis.

After that, he relaxes bit by bit. At your feet, Dusty rearranges himself to lay his snout over your ankle, now splayed over both you and Jay, snoring lowly as he snoozes. Downstairs, Lina is humming to herself as she digs through the freezer for ice cream. Kun is pulling down bowls from the cabinets and Maria is flicking through the channels on the TV. Outside, crickets chirp and the cicadas sing in the summer night.

That’s what you like most about Smallville—aside from being able to feel the most like yourself, it’s quiet in a way Metropolis rarely is. But you would miss it eventually, the noise, the sound of thriving life.

You wonder where Jaemin in. What he’s doing. Hopefully staying out of trouble.

The sound of your name brings you out of your reverie.

“Hm?”

The initial melancholy that saturated the room and atmosphere has mostly disappeared; what has replaced it is still calm and a little solemn, but now tinged with a new curiosity.

“I know,” he starts haltingly, clearly a little bit nervous, “that I still have a lot to do with controlling my powers… and they haven’t even all developed… if they develop…”

“It seems likely that they will,” you muse. “But what you have now is still nothing to scoff at.”

“Right… so… when I do learn to control it… can I go out there with you and Dad?”

“That you’ll have to bring up with your parents, kiddo. But…”

“Yeah?”

You chuckle at the thinly-veiled excitement in his voice at the prospect of bringing you into this to convince his parents. To him, you are the fun aunt who lets him stay up and watch TV on school nights, and his parents are the ones who are happy to put their foot down and kill his fun. Jay idolizes you enough to never really consider that you would wholeheartedly agree with his parents if they decided that this wasn’t an appropriate avenue for him to explore. And technically speaking, it isn’t, not right now, not at this age. Things could, however, change as he gets older. But you’ll leave that up to Kun and Lina.

This, however, is not about that.

“Don’t get too excited. I’m leaving this in your parents’ hands and if they say no, kiddo, you’re gonna have to listen to them.”

He wriggles a little impatiently in your hold. “I know, I know.”

“But… if they say yes, I need you to remember something.”

“What?”

Sighing, you lean your head against his. “It’s okay to quit.”

He stills next to you. “…Huh?”

“It’s okay to quit. If you change your mind… it’s okay to quit. It’s okay to run away. You know that, right?”

He’s quiet. Confused. Mostly about where this is coming from or because the thought of giving up is inconceivable to him. He doesn’t know what it’s like. But to be honest, there is a part of you that knows that if Kun and Lina agree and he, at one point, emerges as another figure alongside Superman and Supergirl, he won’t give up. No matter what. Jay is so good. So kind. And not that either of those things cancel out if he quit, but even if it is hard—and it will be, is your point—he wouldn’t give up, he’d force himself to see it through—like you do sometimes. Like his dad does sometimes, too.

A hero’s temperament, Maria once called it. Nonetheless. The way you see it, you and Kun have something of an obligation to help earth. But Jay, the next generation, the best of humanity and Kryptonians, does not need to bear the weight of this burden if he doesn’t want to.

“Okay,” he says at last. “I understand.”

You squeeze him tighter and say nothing more during your time with him. It’s only when he dozes off a few hours later do you slip out of his room. Lina and Maria are in the living room, the former working on something on her laptop, the latter doing a crossword puzzle and watching TV. Outside, the night sky is clear of clouds and full of stars. You join Kun on the porch, leaning against the railing.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he admits after a long moment of silence.

“It had to be said.”

“It did,” he agrees. “But it… never really crossed my mind—our minds—to say something like that to him.” Guilt lingers in his voice.

You watch the corn stalks sway in the breeze. “Most wouldn’t.”

“We’re not most.”

“No,” you say quietly. “But that gives you leeway. It’s fine that you didn’t say it because I did and truthfully, I think if you say something like that, too, it’ll make him wonder if we doubt him. In that case, either he doubles down or gives up entirely.”

He plants both hands on the railing, blowing out a breath.

“I sort of want him to give it up,” he admits very quietly in Kryptonian. “He doesn’t need that burden.”

“No… he doesn’t.”

Falling back into silence, together, the two of you watch the corn stalks sway in the breeze, stars twinkling at you.

“Supergirl!”

You don’t always stop for people calling your name. Sometimes, it’s a clout grab. Sometimes, someone is trying to throw acid on you. But if you recognize the person’s voice and if you have the time, you’ll stop. So, when Huang Renjun calls out to you when you’re passing by the community center where you first met him, you stop.

“Oh,” he says, blinking when you go down to him. “I didn’t think you’d stop.”

You smile kindly. “I recognized your voice. How have you been?”

“Good, good. And, um, you?”

“I’m alright, thanks. So, what’d you need?”

He gets hesitant here and you aren’t sure why. Biting his lip uncertainly, he scratches his head, clearly thinking something over. In his chest, his heart beats at an unsteady pace, one that’s enough to concern you.

“Is something wrong, Renjun?” you ask, concerned, mostly for his wellbeing—is he in trouble?

“No, no, no,” he says, waving his hands. “I’m sorry—I’m fine, I promise. It’s just… ah, I called you because… an artist in the circle I run in put up this mural and he knew I’d met you and he wanted me to tell you about it… but I’m not so sure it’s a good idea now…”

You cock your head. “Why not?”

“The mural is—well. It’s… good. Just not…” He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not naked, am I?”

“No! God, no, I wouldn’t—”

You laugh. “I’m kidding!”

He closes his eyes, exhaling a laugh. “Seriously?”

“So long as I’m not naked or otherwise depicted in a weird sexual manner, Renjun, I don’t care. Where’s the mural?”

“The bar’s in hell, you know that, right?”

“I’m well aware. But I take what I can get. Tell me.”

“Right…”

He tells you the address—still very reluctant to do so, for reasons you aren’t sure of. Outside of being sexual in nature—which he vehemently denied—you can’t imagine why he is hesitating so much. But before you get to grill him for more details, you get pulled away by something on the other side of the city. Kun ends up beating you to it, though, as when you arrive, the robbery at the jewelry store has already been taken care of, gunmen disposed of, hostages rushing out. You do a bit of damage control, then get ready to leave when the police and ambulance arrive. Then you spot a familiar face in the crowd.

“Jaemin.”

He turns. His eyes flicker to your face, then to your arm—your left forearm, where you’d taken the hit from Jay a few days ago.

“Good as new,” you say when his gaze meets your again.

He nods, fingers fiddling with the camera hanging around his neck. He inhales, opening his mouth to say something, then stops, glancing around. Ah. Too many ears.

“Renjun told me about a new mural of me,” you tell him. “It’s a few blocks from here.”

Jaemin nods and in the chaos of the scene, the two of you slip away unnoticed.

This is a more residential area, so the further from the scene you get, the quieter and emptier the streets get. You know no one is following you, either, so you feel free to say: “My nephew is okay, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“It was.”

“He’s alright. He’s got a steep learning curve ahead of him, but I know he’ll do fine.”

“And… Superman… is he okay with me knowing?”

“He trusts me, and I trust you. So, yes.” There’s a small stutter in Jaemin’s pace, one that goes unnoticed by you as you realize the mural is just around the corner. You step around it, curious to see what had Renjun so nervous and reluctant.

When you see it, you understand.

Jaemin stops as soon as he realizes what it is, disbelief palpable, while you slowly walk to the center of it, gazing up at the painted bricks.

Jaemin’s scoff is harsh. “Why the hell would Renjun tell you to check this out?”

“To my understanding, his friend—or, well, he never said they were friends, just that they ran in the same art circles, but anyway, he said the painter was bothering him to tell me about it. I can see why. This is… really nice.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Why? Because you think it’s untrue?”

You look back at the mural. Muted dark shades of blue flow into darkness, with you in the center, on one knee, a sphere of midnight blue, swirling white, green, and brown on your shoulders, braced by your hands. Despite the gravity and the weight of your task, the look on your face, eyes closed, is serene.

The message is clear.

“Are you that dramatic?”

“Jaemin,” you say softly. “You and I both know this isn’t about dramatics. This is what I am. This is what we are. Me and Superman.”

“No, it’s not,” he argues, with a stunning amount of gall as usual, but you’re used to it by now, no longer surprised by the things Jaemin is willing to do or argue for if he feels strongly enough about them. The fact that you’re the topic of it is what surprises you, however. Why should it matter to him?

“You’re… you. And that—” he points at your chest, at the symbol there “—you said it means hope. How is this hopeful? It’s just… miserable. Inevitable.”

“Now who’s the dramatic one?” Despite the tease, your words are gentle.

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s what humans need. You know that.”

The way he purses his lips tells you he knows that very well. Yet it still seems… almost upsetting to him. You can’t imagine why. This is—well, perhaps a bit dramatic, but no less true. This is what you were saying. You and Kun have a responsibility to earth, to humans, on behalf of Krypton, on the behalf of your people. To help them. They will stumble and they will fall but one day, they will stand in the sun with you. You know this with everything inside of you.

And yet… Jaemin looks so…

Something takes over you. You’re closing the distance between you two before you realize it.

To tell the truth, outside of saving him, you try to keep your distance from him. Out of all the planets you’ve visited and the people—beings—you’ve seen, Jaemin is by far the prettiest in the entire universe. Up close, this fact is made a thousand times more debilitating for you. But even as your pulse skyrockets, warmth flooding your chest and face, you hold steady like you always do.

Your hand lands on his shoulder before you can stop it. The heat of him seeps through the fabric of his button-up, searing into the palm of your hand. Humans are much warmer in comparison to you and thanks to your senses that are heightened with the power of Sol, everything feels that much more intense to you, including this. This is the first time you’ve ever touched him outside of pulling him out of the way of a bullet or something. It’s not physically possible for you to get dizzy, and yet…

“This is presumptuous on my end,” you say quietly, lips quirked. “And truthfully, I would rather not know that fact and pretend that you do actually care about this—me (like I said, presumptuous)—but this is how things are. This is how they have to be. Humans can’t handle us in any other capacity than this one—solemn figures with a… responsibility to the sanctity of earth and humanity. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Jaemin looks at you, brows still knitted together. His eyes are such a dark shade of brown—darker on the edges of his irises before lightening a bit further in. Still dark. Still endless—easy to get lost in. And you’re very good at getting lost.

You step back. Hand falling from his shoulder, your skin tingles from the imprint of his body warmth; it leaves you quickly, leaving the palm of your hand oddly cold. You flex your hand idly and look away.

“I should go. Don’t give Renjun a hard time about this, please?”

His quiet, “Fine,” shouldn’t surprise you but it does. He’s not usually so mellow like that with you. But you aren’t complaining about it now.

“Thank you. I’ll… see you around.”

He doesn’t say anything. You turn, meandering a few steps away from him so your take off won’t jar him too much. His gaze remains on you, burning into you. Until you’re thousands of feet in the air, you feel his gaze on you and wonder when you became so attuned to it.

There are a few things you don’t like about earth. Nothing big, mind you. Not, like, humanity itself or something. If anything, you’re quite fond of them. Much fonder than you used to be. But earth has its quirks. You’re not overly fond of thunder. It’s too loud—and you’re not exaggerating. It leaves your ears ringing sometimes. The constant shift of the tectonic plates isn’t something you like that much, either. Krypton didn’t have tectonic plates. It’s part of the reason you had so many issues with the core, towards the end.

But you digress.

On that end, earthquakes aren’t your favorite things in the world, either. They happen a lot, constantly, little ones that are unnoticeable to anyone but you and geographers with the equipment to sense them. And even then, you experience them on a different level.

But you have another reason. They make you feel so… useless. All you can do is wait them out. Intervene in the moment, but you can’t stop them.

The earthquake that happens in California the next day is a prime example of that.

You heard it, of course. Loud and thunderous beneath the surface of the earth. Seconds after it hit, you and Kun were pinged about it for search and rescue. This is where you try to do everything you can to help.

You and Kun beat the search and rescue aid being sent in from the rest of the world, but you run point with the local aid. You work through the night, shifting through pieces of rubble and glass, pulling out people. You always breathe a sigh of relief when they emerge okay. You can hear their heartbeats, of course, hear when a destroyed building has no survivors, no life, and must quietly redirect the locals to other buildings that do for aid, while others will work on finding the bodies.

It’s hard, though. It’s so hard. You would think that after doing this for six years, after everything you have seen, even before you came to earth, it wouldn’t be hard. You are no stranger to suffering, to pain, to death. You watched Krypton die. You watched your people die. Your father, then your mother.

Earth was, is, a second chance. This is your home, too. And for these people, they’ve lost virtually everything. They’ll get back up, Kun reminds you. They always do. If there is anything that they are, they are resilient. You know that. And you do. But it’s still hard. The tight, brimming hug a woman gives you after you rescue her from a building on fire nearly brings you to tears, holding her to you as she sobs her thanks.

You work hard for the next two days. From dawn to dusk. You and Kun have worked on the scene of enough natural disasters like this that aid knows to rotate their workers, but it’s still a lot on them. By the third day, you and Kun are working late into the night, late enough that dawn is already approaching. Your next mission is a partially destroyed skyscraper, the other half still standing with people still trapped inside. It’s tricky because the building is too unstable. At that point, they call on you and Kun directly, right before it’s set to give out so they can make a last-ditch effort to get the people out.

You work in tandem, diving in to hold it up yourselves while workers rush in and pull people out. A boy cries and refuses to move from his friend’s body, curled up in a ball in the corner.

“Go!” you yell at the worker. “I got him—go, get out of here now!”

Kun utters your name in a question.

Metal groans and rumbles, the infrastructure seconds away from giving out—not enough support, even with you and Kun there. You strain against the weight of it, glass, and concrete, and metal bearing down on you.

“Go when I say,” you order.

One second, an eternity, then, “Okay.”

You meet the boy’s gaze. He looks no older than ten. Like Jay. Like you, when Krypton died.

“Go.”

You move exactly when Kun does, diving for the boy, wrapping your arms around him as the building finally collapses on itself. Knowing that if you stay here, you will be buried, and it will be that much harder to get out, to get him out safely, you go up. Curling yourself around him, making sure to cover his ears, you rip through metal and glass and concrete as it falls on you. It bounces off harmlessly on your skin, but you know it is very much not the same for the boy in your arms, so you keep him shielded as best as you can.

You keep rising up and up and up until—air. Debris and dust swirls around you. Beneath you, the building gives its last breath, crumbling to the ground. You can hear the wind whistle as Kun moves people out of the way. The clamoring of others further down the street as they watch with bated breath. In your arms, the boy’s trembles. But his heart thumps soundly in your ears, lungs expanding with each breath he takes. You smell no blood in the air and when you ease your grip on him, using your X-ray vision, you find no broken bones, either.

“Where are they?” someone calls.

Wind whips against you, Kun pushing out a current to dissipate the debris and dust swirling around you and blocking their and your vision. You lift your head. You finally glimpse the people on the ground, and they see you, too. Their cheers are thunderous. The boy jolts at the sound, sniffling, and finally lifting his head and looking at you.

“Are you okay?”

Sniffling again, he looks at you for a moment, then, slowly he nods.

No one was able to save Krypton. You. Your parents. Your friends. Your people. Earth was always, first and foremost, a safe haven.

You’ll go to earth, your mother had told you when there was no hope left, when she had no choice but to send you away. They’ll take care of you. Your parents hadn’t ever left Krypton. What they did have of earth were mere snapshots. But they had faith—implicit faith in the possibility of a kinder life with a people who would accept you.

On some days, it feels like this wish is nothing more than a fantasy. On others, you know with everything inside you, it is true.

But your parents had believed in them, in humanity, in earth, their final hope for you. A safe haven.

Your powers, the mantle of Supergirl, the legacy of Superman, were an afterthought. But still remnants of that faith. You will always believe in humanity, in the fact that goodness is intrinsic to all beings, and this includes them. They will fight and they will hurt but you could never possibly lose faith in them, in the prospect of a better tomorrow, and when they needed help, when they needed saving, you will always be there for them.

But… as you touch down, passing the boy to the arms of his sobbing—grateful, so grateful it hurts your heart and makes your throat tight—father, people clapping you on the back, thanking you, cameras on you, pictures being taken, Kun’s face in your peripheral, a little sad but mostly proud, happy, you find yourself thinking of Jaemin.

Even as Kun tells you to go home for a few hours and rest, since you’ve mitigated most of the serious damage from the quake. Even as you leave, the sun rising on San Francisco, which moves higher and higher in the sky as you fly east. It’s mid-morning, with clear skies and a hot day ahead in Metropolis when you arrive.

You find yourself landing on a rooftop of a building directly in front of the mural Renjun painted. The one you complimented him on all those weeks ago. You still stand by what you said—it is… warm, in a way that many depictions of you are not. It shows you mid-flight, a clear blue sky behind you, smiling down at something or someone, hand raised in a wave. It is seemingly so mundane but the warmth in your gaze is real and tangible. Enough so that, you imagine this truly must be what you look like when you wave at people while flying.

The door to the rooftop creaks open. Jaemin’s heart is steady in your ears. Something inside you unwinds at the sound. You continue to gaze at the mural as he walks over to you. The air shifts when he’s close to you, body heat tangible only to you, vestiges of vanilla and vetiver shampoo tickling your nose.

You look at him. If hearing his heartbeat soothed the bundle of emotions in your chest, then seeing his face finally, for the first time since the quake hit, makes you relax. It’s only been four days and his face is ingrained in your memory but it’s nothing like seeing the real thing in person—the messy strands of his dark hair, the dark brown of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the swell of his cheeks, the pink of his lips.

In your chest, your heart skips a beat.

He drops his gaze, flipping open the flap of his bag and digging for something. Plastic crinkles. Something white peeks out from his bag. He pulls out a single wipe and lifts it to you. You step closer. An unspoken answer or perhaps an unspoken wish, one he seems to have no quarrel fulfilling for you in this moment.

The wipe is cool against your cheek, clean smelling. Jaemin’s touch is heart-achingly gentle.

“You’re dusty,” he murmurs.

“Thank you.”

A minute shake of his head. He gently drags the wipe over the swell of your cheek, underneath your eye. His heart is beating faster now. Still a sweet song to your ears.

After a minute, after moving the wipe to your other cheek, he says, quietly, “You are right. We need you. We need Supergirl. It’s just…”

“It seems bleak. But it isn’t. Not really.”

“Isn’t it?”

You smile. “Atlas… his duty was a punishment. This is a responsibility that can fall to no one else but my cousin and me. But it is one I accept gladly.” You reach for his hand, cradling it in your own; your thumb grazes the back of his slowly, savoring the feeling. “And more than that… I am not alone. I have a family, Jaemin. I have people who I love and who love me. I have kind strangers and even reckless but passionate and good-hearted journalists,” and you dare to squeeze his hand here, watching as the furrow between his brow softens and his gaze does the same thing, “I believe in the goodness of humans. This is not a punishment. Not to me.”

The wipe in his hand flutters to the ground. He turns his hand, until your palms are pressed together. A moment, then he tugs. In the next second, his arms are around you and yours are around him.

You’ve felt the burning heat of stars and supernovas. It’s an out-of-control kind of heat, a wild kind; the reality of the harshness of space, but one you can survive, albeit with mild discomfort. Humans, in spite of this and in spite of their tripled vulnerability, seek out such things—wish to explore interstellar space on a mission of curiosity and exploration, even if it might hurt them.

Jaemin’s embrace is nothing like that. Searing, yes, because of the differences in your temperatures, the sensitivity of your skin, but this is the kind of heat you sink into, that soothes you, that comforts you; the kind you could slip away peacefully in. Your heart is pounding now. You hope he can’t feel it but since you can feel his—hear it, too—pounding away in his chest, you know he can feel yours, too, pounding in wild tandem.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. You know. He understands.

“No, no, I got it, Kun. The mom seemed a little surprised to see me, but it wasn’t an issue.”

“Great. Thanks for doing this, by the way. I would’ve picked it up but it’s my turn to cook dinner tonight and I got a late start…”

Setting Jay’s Spider-Man themed backpack to the side, you quickly change into your suit, having flown that way to Jay’s friend’s house to grab his backpack for him.

You hear Jay’s voice from the receiver next, your name in a question.

Kun hums an affirmative.

“You can play with my Jenga if you want!”

You chuckle, setting off, coasting higher than you usually do to avoid people seeing you and your cargo.

“Thanks, kiddo. Appreciate it.”

“Dinner’s almost done,” Kun says to him. “Go wash up, please.”

A soft huff. “If you want to talk to her alone, you could just ask, Dad…”

A snort escapes you unbidden.

Kun sighs but it’s fond. “Okay, I need to speak to your aunt alone and you need to go wash your hands.”

“Okie dokie!”

Never mind that ‘alone’ no longer existed for the three of you anymore, but according to Jay, it was quite easy to phase out the extra noise and just focus on whatever he’s doing so as to not overwhelm himself or encroach on anyone else’s privacy. It’s a very Kun thing of him to do—and say. Not that you don’t try to do that, but you also lack a social life, so, you admit to being a bit nosier than he is and sometimes shamelessly listening to people’s conversations.

“What’s up?”

“Have you… seen Jaemin since yesterday?”

You frown. “No? What happened yesterday?”

Yesterday, you weren’t even on earth—you were up in space, fixing something on the International Space Station at the request of NASA. Too treacherous of a job for the astronauts on board and too big of a problem to be left alone for the time being. So, they’d asked you. You actually had a quite pleasant conversation with the astronauts on board. You had to decontaminate afterward—deadly rays from the sun and space and all that—so you only got back to Metropolis late into the evening, showering, eating dinner, then promptly crashing.

“You hear about Congressman Wilkins?”

You did in fact hear about Congressman Wilkins—the US House Rep for Metropolis. Newly elected. Apparently, he’d spent almost a million of the campaign funds he received on personal expenses like private jet flights, vacations, and a new house. When the story broke, he tried to leave the city and the police chased him down. He ended up in a nasty accident with a fuel truck and died. The truck driver barely made it out, too.

“Well,” Kun goes on, “Jaemin was the one to break the story that morning, after tipping off the police. He was there on the scene, too.”

Your flight slams to an abrupt halt. “Is he okay? Did—”

“He’s fine. Physically. It’s just… I don’t know. I just have a feeling…” Kun sighs. “With this stuff, sometimes, well, a lot of the time, you feel a sense of responsibility. Even if it’s not really your fault.”

“…Yeah. Yeah, I get that. Okay. I’ll… see him.”

“No pressure, really, I’m thinking I’m gonna talk to him on Monday, anyway, but—”

“No,” you say. “I should. He’s… I should.”

“Alright. Take your time with Jay’s backpack, then. He doesn’t need it until Monday.”

“Right, yeah.”

The call ends with a click. You tuck your phone away, grip tightening absently on the backpack, one strap slung over your shoulder. Downtown Metropolis glimmers ahead of you in the late afternoon sunlight; the sun will be setting soon.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and focus. In a city of five million, on a planet of seven billion, Jaemin’s heart is easy to pick out. You let it guide you to the roof of the Daily Planet.

“Mind some company?”

The distant look on his face melts away when he looks at you. Slowly, he shakes his head. You close in. The wind that ruffles your cape ruffles his dark hair, loose over his forehead today; you’ve never quite seen him this relaxed, in jeans and a t-shirt. Something about it makes your heart pick up. You swallow down the feeling and let your feet touch the concrete of the roof.

Dark eyes slide to the backpack slung over your shoulder, eyebrow raising in a silent question.

“Nephew’s,” you answer, only a little bit embarrassed. “He forgot it at a friend’s house.” Setting the backpack down between you, you sit beside him; the nearest buildings are not tall enough for anyone else to see and Kun has long since looped the feeds of the cameras up here that way he has a place to change in and out.

He hums, then returns his gaze to the yellowing horizon. The silence that falls between you is not an awkward one, exactly, but something is there that unsettles you. Since your… moment on the roof in front of Renjun’s mural, things have been better, if not a little odd, between you two. New footing, you figure. Not that you were ever really annoyed or exasperated with Jaemin’s penchant for trouble (though you’re sure you can’t quite say the same for him with you), but your dynamic had, more or less, always been set in stone. Things are different now.

You’re still trying to figure out if it’s a good different or a bad different. For now, he seems so melancholic that you stow away those thoughts and reach for Jay’s backpack.

“Wanna play Jenga?”

Jaemin blinks at you. You don’t waver in the face of his bewilderment, suddenly quite sure this is the way to go for this.

A second passes, then he nods slowly. You waste no time in pulling out the container of Jenna, pushing Jay’s backpack behind you and dumping the Jenga blocks in the space between you. You start fixing the tower of Jenga blocks one by one.

When it’s halfway finished, Jaemin asks, “Why don’t you use your speed to do it?”

“Less fun.”

“Really?”

Pursing your lips thoughtfully, you keep your eyes on the slowly growing Jenga tower. “There’s something to be said about taking your time and enjoying it. Even for the boring stuff. I mean, when it comes to washing dishes, water doesn’t do that great with super speed, so that’s kind of null, and sometimes, I don’t want to deal with folding my laundry that slowly, but most of the time…” you shrug. “I take my time.”

“Sounds mind-numbing.”

You laugh softly. “It’s… really not. Life already passes me by so quickly—I have to take my time.”

“Isn’t it the opposite?”

You finish the tower and look up at him with a smile. “You go first.”

Mouth flattening into a line of displeasure at you not answering his question—you would, but it’s not about you right now and that topic… well, you don’t sense it would help him right now—he moves anyway, letting out a big breath, then reaching for a block in the middle. He pulls it out cleanly and sets it on the top of the stack.

You go next, taking your time as you pick one out from a little bit towards the top end and set it beside his. For a few minutes, that’s what you do, going back and forth, pulling out blocks from the body of the tower and stacking the top. It’s your turn, aiming for a block in the third row from the bottom—the most treacherous move thus far—when he next speaks.

“I’m fine, you know. If that’s why you’re here.”

“It is,” you say. “And it’s fine if you aren’t, too. What Wilkins did was terrible, but he didn’t deserve to die. But that he died at all, that everything happened yesterday, wasn’t your fault, either. He’d have panicked regardless of whether the story was broken or not because I’m quite sure any other journalist would shake it out of some cop while it was going down. Maybe it would’ve been you, maybe it would’ve been Lina Dhar-Qian. Who knows? But I have a feeling the outcome would’ve been the same, anyway.”

You successfully pull out the block. But you have an advantage with your powers. You can sense the slightest of movements and adjust accordingly; stop if it trembles, keep going if it’s stable. Jaemin, terribly human, for the better and for the worse, does not have such an advantage. He aims for a block from the second to bottom. You sense the tremble before it happens; he only gets it halfway out before it tumbles.

Sighing, his fingers curl around the block still in his palm. “He had a family.”

“Yes, he did.”

“This isn’t what I wanted to do when I decided to work here.”

“Why did you?”

Jaemin looks out at the Metropolis skyline, wind ruffling his hair, looking startlingly, heartbreakingly, lost.

“I was in med school, before I came here. In Korea. One of the best—and the most expensive—programs in the country. My friend was in the program, too. The first two years were for the basics, for the textbook stuff. Then, in our third, we started clinical training. I had expectations for what it would be like, what the students in the years above us would say to us, what the advisors said, and the professors said. But it was nothing like that. It was… it wasn’t what I thought it was.”

You stay quiet, watching him.

“The way they did things,” he says quietly. “It was just what was on paper—the disease or the problem that brought them here. Find a solution and fix it. Or don’t, and let them know. Then your job is done. It wasn’t… kind. It was brutal. It was ‘reality,’ they said. People started to drop the program. My friend held on. But I could see… he and everyone else was fine with letting go of whoever they’d been before we started in order to become the best of the class. I wasn’t.”

He finally turns to look at you. “I thought I could do it differently. But it wasn’t what they wanted. It wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to help people. I wanted to be there for them. They told me it was impossible to do that, that I’d end up killing myself by caring too much. I still don’t know if that’s true, but I did know that I couldn’t keep going like that.”

He lets out a sigh. “You have no idea how hard my mom worked to put me into school. And just like that, when it got too hard, I wasted it. I couldn’t face her. I couldn’t face anyone. I took the first flight out of the country and ended up in San Francisco.” The snort he lets out is derisive. “Didn’t know any English but I knew my way around a camera and started doing photojournalism for a local newspaper. I still wanted to help people, you know. It wasn’t until I started seeing what the journalists did—what Lina Dhar-Qian did—that I realized that was another way I could do it.

“So, to answer your question—I want to help people. I have to. What happened yesterday wasn’t that. It was the furthest thing from it. He may have been an idiot with his campaign funds, and the people he scammed deserved to know what he was doing, but he also didn’t deserve to die.”

No. He didn’t. Jaemin lets out a shaky exhale. You wonder if he’s told anyone about this since it happened. You have the strongest, heartbreaking feeling that this is the first time ever. The sun is starting to set now, washing everything in gold.

“Do you know how old I am, Jaemin?”

Confusion seems to bring Jaemin back down to earth as he frowns at you, clearly thrown off by the abrupt topic change but willing enough to go along with it. “I… No. I always assumed you were around my age.”

“I am, technically. But I’m also technically around thirty-five.”

His eyes widen. You can’t help it—you laugh.

“Just listen. Technically, I am around that age. But physically, biologically, mentally, I’m your age. During my… travels to earth, I ended up too close to a black hole. The gravity around black holes is so strong, it stretches the fabric of time and space—slows it down. What was an hour near the black hole—a terribly long and boring story, I assure you—was… ten years on earth. The rest of my trip here took even longer on top of that. When I left Krypton,” you swallow past the burst of pain in your throat; you rarely ever say its name out loud, there is no good reason to; reminiscing about it makes Kun feel bad and that makes you feel even worse, “my cousin, Superman, was just a baby. But he had left before me. And when I got here, he was a grown adult.”

Jaemin takes in your words quietly, eyebrows furrowed.

You push past the emotions, trying for a small smile. “So, going back to your earlier question—it’s not the opposite.”

“What is?”

“Life does pass me by quickly. I wish it didn’t. Rao, I really do. But…” you lift a hand, sun rays painting your skin warmly, “as long as Sol fuels me, I’ll have no choice but to sit back and watch my life and the life of my family pass me by. Same with the rest of the world. Time will touch them. But it’ll leave me alone.”

You drop your hand, shaking your head slightly. “I won’t be alone. But in some ways, that’s worse. And who even knows what’ll happen to my nephew? For now, he ages like a human boy, but… I don’t know if he’ll live long enough to see his family—his mom—die. And I don’t know if I’ll have to watch him die, either. If his father will have to watch him die.” You sigh. “And no parent… deserves to watch their child die.”

Jaemin is still beside you. You look at him.

“Time is cruel. But there is nowhere else I’d rather be than here. I watched my planet and my people die. I watched my father die. I know it’ll kill me when my friends and family pass away. But at least I had the time with them—an entire lifetime, hopefully. That’s why I like to take my time.”

He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

You take his hand. “I’m sorry, too. For yesterday. And everything before that.”

He looks at your adjoined hands, frowning. “I made my choices. I need to live with them.”

“Do you?”

“I’ve already wasted one opportunity. I can’t waste this one.”

“It sounds like this is a punishment for you, then.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why haven’t you spoken to your mom?”

“You don’t know that I haven’t.”

You squeeze his hand.

Jaemin sighs. “And disappoint her more? I don’t think so.”

“Is she the reason why you want to help people?”

A slow nod.

“Then I think you might be doing a disservice to her by thinking that,” you say gently. “By all means, take what I say with a grain of salt—I know nothing about her and it’s definitely not my place but… oh, I don’t know. I’m—I watched my father die. I know my mother died after she sent me off to earth. It’s not fair to you to use my life as a comparison but really, Jaemin, I would…” You swallow, throat painfully tight, eyes stinging. “I would kill just to have a few more minutes with them. Anything. I miss so much about Krypton. But I miss them the most.”

His hand loosens from yours. Then his thumb swipes over your cheek, catching a tear. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. You sigh, composing yourself, then start to pick up the fallen Jenga blocks, putting them away. You figure you’ve reached your quota of meddling in his business tonight. Putting the container away and zipping the bag up, you stand. Jaemin follows.

“It’s not presumptuous.”

His words stop you short and you look at him, eyebrows furrowing. “What isn’t, Jaemin?”

“What you said before,” he says, looking at you. “When we saw that mural. Not Renjun’s. The other one.”

The memories of that day and your talk with Jaemin slingshots to the forefront of your mind.

“This is presumptuous on my end. And truthfully, I would rather not know that fact and pretend that you do actually care about this—me (like I said, presumptuous)—but this is how things are.”

“You should know that,” he says. “It’s not presumptuous. It’s really not.”

“I’m starting to see that,” you admit with a soft laugh. “But thank you for telling me directly anyway. It’s nice to hear. While we’re on the topic of saying things that need to be said, there’s something else I want you to know.”

Jaemin looks troubled for a moment before the expression is put away and he nods for you to go on.

“It’s pretty implicit that I’m there for you, even if you aren’t in physical danger, but, inside that and out of it… if you need anything, you can call me. I will come.”

“Call… you?”

“I’ll hear you,” you say and it’s then that he understands.

The weight of his gaze now is too much. You look away, coughing. “I… just need you to know that, too. If you call me… I’ll come.”

Saying it out loud changes things. A tension that wasn’t there before lingers in the air. But you had to say it. He cares. He felt the need to emphasize that. He should know you care, too.

(Not just care, either. There’s a lot more behind it. You know that. It’s been a slow growing thing but—from the start, Na Jaemin did not leave you alone. He lingered with you, even when he seemed to not want anything to do with you. In that space, he’s grown on you—or rather, you’ve started to see him for who he is.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. But it’s not bad. Not bad at all.)

“Get home safe, alright?”

You don’t wait around for his response, lifting off the ground, breeze catching your cape. Again, as you leave, you feel his gaze on you until you’re out of his field of vision, swallowing down the longing in your chest.

“You didn’t have to do it tonight, you know,” Kun says when he steps onto the balcony of his and Lina’ apartment.

“Maybe I just wanted to steal your ice cream.”

You pass him Jay’s backpack, following him inside, closing the balcony door behind you. Water runs in the pipes, Lina humming in the shower, Jay sleeping soundly in his room. Kun leaves the backpack near the front door, then beelines for the refrigerator, opening the freezer. Too lazy to change out of your suit and knowing Lina’s rules about suits on the couch, you slump in a chair at the small table in the kitchen.

He sets down a carton of your favorite ice cream in front of you, along with a spoon, then sits down across from you, with a carton of vanilla for himself. You pop off the lid of the carton and dig in. You didn’t have ice cream on Krypton. No cows of any kind at all, actually. Great what humans have invented with dairy products. Really.

“So… Jaemin.”

“Mm, he’s alright. Sort of what you thought he’d be feeling like, but we had a nice talk about it, so I think he’ll be okay.”

Kun chuckles quietly. “I didn’t doubt that.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Then?”

He just looks at you with a small, knowing smile.

“Kun.”

“What? I’m not doing anything.”

“Sure you aren’t.” You sigh. You know what he’s getting at and truthfully, you see no point in denying it, either. But the consequences of it are something else entirely. You can’t just think about yourself here. Not for this.

Kun leans back. “What’s stopping you?”

“This.” You gesture a hand to the apartment. Lina’s laptop open on the coffee table, drafts stacked next to it marked up with red pen. A book with a bookmark sticking out the top. Jay’s drawings pinned on the walls. “It’s not just about me.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not, Kun. If—if I tell Jaemin who I am, it’s going to be so much easier for him to realize who you are, too. Not even just easier—it’s inevitable, that he finds out.”

“I know,” he says. “And that’s fine. But it is just about you because I trust you and if you trust Jaemin, I know you’re trusting him with everything. So, there’s no reason to worry.”

The worst part is—you know he’s right. You shovel more ice cream into your mouth to avoid answering right away. Because, if there is that, then… what next? Do you even know if Jaemin really truly likes you? Enough to consider seeing you that way? You aren’t under any impressions about the way some people view you—you do good things but you’re not like everyone else at the end of the day. Not human. Not normal. Not to mention the danger he’d be in if he associated with you.

“I have experience with this,” he says next, tone thoughtful. “Saying I’m the precedent sounds a little conceited, but I think in this regard, it is, well… true. I went through what you’re going through. Like realizing that I’d have to give everything up to her. But, it was more than that. It was wanting to. It’s not impossible to date as simply you and avoid telling whoever they are about what you are and what you do.”

A soft look crosses his face. “But I didn’t want to settle for that. Maybe, for some time, but then it would come down to whether I would be okay with, essentially, living a lie or breaking things off. With Lina… the thought had crossed my mind, especially because I knew her just as well as Qian Kun as I did Superman, but the thing was… I wanted her to know. Does that make sense?”

You nod.

“But,” he goes on, “your case is a little bit different in that you know him better as Supergirl than you do as yourself.”

“It doesn’t change it,” you say quietly. “I do want to. Tell him, I mean. I think I’d want it even if I knew him as myself and not as Supergirl. I guess now, it’s a little more imperative that I do, because it’s not even remotely sustainable to date him as Supergirl. And even if it was, I wouldn’t—I don’t want to do him that disservice.”

Kun has a soft, proud look on his face that makes you look away.

“You don’t need my help,” he says. “You don’t need my permission. This is yours. All of it. You’ve got it. If you want it, that is.”

Warmth floods your face. You don’t answer that.

Want it? You want it with everything inside of you. Every cell and every atom. It is selfish, though, even despite what Kun says, because he may be okay with revealing himself, but the danger Jaemin would be in shouldn’t be understated.

But… it’s like Kun said. He is the precedent. And if you look at him and Lina now… It would be more than worth it.

For you, that is. For Jaemin? That… well, that’s the question, isn’t it?

It’s so much easier to think about these things in theory than it is practice. You know this, because the next day, you see Jaemin during one of your patrols and when he waves at you, you sort of… panic.

You wave back, of course, it would be impolite not to, but there is this one painful second where you hesitate and you know that he definitely probably noticed and when that knowledge finally sinks in, you cannot get out of there fast enough, making a frantic mime about something going on to him (nothing is going on, obviously), then booking it out of there.

It is, truthfully, humiliating. It’s not how you wanted it to go. What is it, one may ask? Well, you aren’t sure of it yourself. But just because you had that conversation with Kun, just because the possibility is suddenly on the table—it shouldn’t change anything in the meantime. If anything, it is imperative that nothing changes until you try and parse out what he might potentially feel for you.

The thing is—Jaemin is so… impervious. It’s hard to figure out what might go on in that pretty head of his. Feelings of this nature are even more so. The solution is obvious, then, that you should ask him—but that’s… not easy, either. Feelings are not easy.

Regardless of that issue, though, you do want to try and be… well. Normal around him. And about him. It’s hard but surely not impossible. You can be normal around a guy you like. You can!

So, a few days later, when you see him again, that’s your main objective. Well, actually, it’s in the middle of a search for some guy with a gun, street filled with mild panic, officers trying to get people inside, you and Kun trying to find this guy before something happens—because something always happens—and Jaemin is not really cooperating.

“Jaem, you really have to get inside—”

“I will,” he says, yet he has a hand latched belligerently to your cape, quite literally on your heels as you scan the buildings surrounding you. “But I just have one question—”

“It really can’t wait?”

He’s downright petulant when he says, “No.”

“Jaemin—”

He presses on. “What you said—when I said it wasn’t presumptuous for you to think I care, and you said I’m starting to see that—did you think I didn’t like you?”

Nothing, you’re getting nothing, is this a false alarm or is the guy gone? On the other end of the street, you hear Kun say, “I’m getting nothing.”

You mutter the same, then redirect your attention to Jaemin. “It’s not like you’ve ever been very forthcoming with me—which is fine. I know there’s the issue of your own capability, which, I know you can take care of yourself, believe me—”

“That’s not—”

This is a terrible time and place to have this conversation but—so be it.

“It’s alright, lots of humans have that issue, they don’t want to be seen as weak—which, there’s nothing wrong with, but nonetheless, I wouldn’t ever call you weak, or better yet, believe you need to be taken care of like that. Obviously I have to step in sometimes but in most others, you can take care of yourself. It’s just for my own peace of mind that I like to ensure that. And then there’s the, well, what I am and how others perceive me—”

“I am not others—”

Any other day and you would laugh at the indignant tone. “Well, no, not anymore, but in the beginning, you know, I get it—”

He’s tugging on your cape; you think it’s more out of indignation than wanting your attention, but you stop and turn anyway. The hot August sun beams down on you. Sweat beads at his hairline, hair slightly mussed from it and from what you can assume was him running his hands through it. His eyes are dark and unhappy. Not unhappy with you, though, you don’t think.

“No, I don’t like that—I’ve never not liked you because of what you are, I don’t care that you’re not human, why would I care about that?”

“A lot of people do,” you remind him semi-patiently.

“I get that, but that’s not me. I don’t care, I’ve never cared.” He’s quite impassioned about this. More than you thought he would be. You still aren’t sure what the purpose of this conversation is, either. You suppose, in some ways, it matters, but you’d hardly hold it against him. Most people would be leery. That’s fine. That’s just the way of the world. This world.

“I was… gruff with you, not necessarily because I didn’t like you. It’s just that—” the steam he had before is finally running out; he runs a rough hand through his hair, eyes looking anywhere but you.

“What?” you ask softly. The sudden smallness of this moment is out of place, standing on the sidewalk of the street, police cars crowding it, Kun and the officers still searching, still coming up empty. He really needs to get inside—you need to him inside. But right after this. You need to hear this first and you think… he has to say it.

“I was like that with you… because you reminded me of myself.”

You go very still. Jaemin’s gaze meets yours. Though slightly pained and more than a little embarrassed, his eyes are softer than before.

“The way you were… what we’ve gone through is in no way comparable. You lost everything. But—despite that…”

You don’t know what to say. No, wait, you do—you want to say he’s like that, too, despite what he thinks of himself, and you have the strongest sense that he thinks he’s some kind of… failure, for the decisions he’s made, and you don’t think this is true at all. Despite stumbling so much, he still believed.

You open your mouth to say this—knowing inside you that this is a terrible place and time to have this conversation, yet all the more important, especially considering his apparent sense of urgency to make it clear that he never disliked you, a thought that makes your chest fill with warmth.

But you don’t get to. You hear the bullet before you see it. Time slows down, but not as fast as it needs to. Whoever shot it is close. All you can do is move Jaemin out of the way and deflect it yourself.

Your hands are still on his shoulders when everything comes back into play, when the shot finally registers with the humans, officers unholstering their guns, ducking for cover. He flinches, shuddering, but not jarred since you only moved him a few inches to the left.

“What—”

Any kind of response to him gets stuck in your throat. Your vision blurs around the edges. Heat spreads through your shoulder. You touch it instinctively. Something slick and warm coats your fingers. You look at it.

The sight of blood on your fingers shocks you. No, you’d—you moved Jaemin out of way, didn’t you?

He’s looking, too, eyes wide. “Hey…”

Oh. It’s your blood. The bullet is made of Kryptonite.

Your vision swims. Your legs buckle but Jaemin catches you, lowering you both to the ground. A bullet whizzes past you. He curses up a storm.

Your senses go haywire, sounds blurring in and out of your ears. You can hear everything in the city in one second and in the next, all you can hear is your own heartbeat, pounding in your ears. You feel weak, washed-out; you’re shaking, chest stuttering with each breathe you take, as if your lungs are fighting the air you breathe.

“Hey, hey! Bring her in here!”

The sun is too bright. You close your eyes. The swaying motion makes you nauseous, like your heart is trying to crawl up your throat. Everything starts to fade in and out. Something presses against the bullet wound hard. A tiny thrum of pain that had started in your shoulder, kryptonite poisoning your cells and atoms, amplifies from the pressure—the actual hole in your shoulder combined with the effects of kryptonite against you.

Voices overlap, panicked, harsh.

Bile threatens to rise up. You swallow it down.

“—doctors or nurses here?”

“I need—”

A stuffy heat envelops you. Fingers brush against your cheek. You can’t hear Jaemin’s heartbeat. Why can’t you hear his heartbeat? All you can hear is what’s happening around you. This is what you used to be like—on Krypton, underneath the warmth of a red sun, rendering you effectively human.

“Okay, I’m going to—”

A hand—Jaemin’s, you know this intuitively—touches yours for a brief moment and a squeeze is all the warning you get before the tweezers go digging into your flesh.

A fire eats at your shoulder, in your skin, in your bones, in the tendons and muscles. The flames spread, into your chest, into your belly. All you can hear is the pound of your heart, beating so hard it feels like it’ll shred itself to pieces. It’s killing you, poisoning you. It hurts.

“—not breathing—”

“—hospital—”

Darkness creeps in on you, an alluring embrace that you sink into.

And you’ll do anything to take the pain away.

You wake feeling empty.

The feeling of the pain, the kryptonite, eating away at you from the inside out is imprinted in your memory. When you sit up and move your arm, you expect pain—but get nothing instead. It’s fine. You’re fine.

“I know,” comes your cousin’s quiet words. “It’s jarring, isn’t it?”

He shuts the book he was reading, setting it on the side table. You’re in your apartment, in your bedroom, out of your suit and into a t-shirt and pajama pants.

“Weird,” you mutter, hand sliding beneath the collar of your shirt. Your fingers find the spot where the bullet was, ghosting at first, some odd part of your brain fearing pain, but then you press down and feel nothing but the fleshy give of your skin, muscles and tendons beneath. It’s fine. Not even a scar left behind, skin still smooth and unmarred.

You drop your hand back into your lap, turning to look at Kun. “Jaemin?”

“He’s fine. Safe.”

You relax at that, allowing yourself to ask the big question. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms, jaw clenching for a moment before saying, “Merc. Refused to say who hired him, though we can probably make an educated guess. Not happy that we—I—couldn’t get a solid answer out of him, although the police were able to get half a million from him—the incentive he was given, with the other half delivered presumably after he did his job, which, luckily, he didn’t.”

“Only halfway,” you muse. “Fair to call it a lose-lose, I think. Guy’s in jail, no more money. And whoever hired him is half a million out. Though I guess if you’ve got a million laying around, ready to be spent on a poor attempt to kill us, then maybe that part doesn’t matter so much…”

Kun says your name, exasperated.

“Sorry. Too soon?”

“You passed out and lost a lot of blood,” he says. “Yes, it’s too soon.”

“Speaking of,” you turn, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed. “How long have I been out for?”

“Five or so hours. Had to get that kryptonite out of your system even after they removed the bullet.”

“They?”

“Doctor at the cafe you were in. She was the one to do it. I got you out of there.”

You frown. “The bullet—”

“It was with Jaemin. I… had a feeling he’d defend it with his life, so I left it.”

You wrinkle your nose, not quite on board with the prospect of him defending anything with his life, even for that kryptonite bullet.

“He’s fine,” Kun says, watching your face intently. “Handed it off to Lina, who will dispose of it through the proper channels.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, reacclimatizing yourself further. A lot happened, but you feel… okay. Thanks to Sol, anyway. And if you’re okay… well. You have something to do next, don’t you?

“You’re gonna go to him, aren’t you?”

“Do you think I shouldn’t?”

“No,” Kun says. “I think it’s about time.”

You chuckle softly. “I don’t disagree with you.”

Especially because—you remember vividly what you and Jaemin had been talking about before you got shot. You can’t imagine how he must feel now. Rao knows if you had to watch him get hurt… You cut the thought short and stand. The wood floorboards of your apartment are cool underneath your bare feet. Kun stands, too.

“Be careful, please.”

You get the sense he isn’t just talking about your physical well-being here. But… you don’t know. You don’t think Jaemin is going to be the one to break your heart tonight.

“I will be.”

He kisses your head, squeezing your arm. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Tell Jay and Lina I say hi.”

“I will.”

Kun sends you a smile, then he’s gone. You really don’t want to get suited up tonight—not to mention your main suit, which is folded neatly on your dresser, courtesy of Kun, you’re certain, has a bullet hole in it and is still stained with blood. You have a backup, an older version, but—you don’t want to come to him as Supergirl. You want to go to him as you. Yourself. So, you leave it there and grab one of your hoodies, slipping it over your head.

Then—you’re gone, too.

Metropolis is quiet at midnight. Skyscrapers shine in the night, clouds hanging low, turning lights into blurred smudges. You rise above the clouds, finding a pocket of space. The clear midnight blue sky stretches out ahead of you, full moon beaming down upon you. Ahead of you, a plane that just took off parts through the clouds, lights blinking on the wings. You follow it east until you come upon a familiar neighborhood, diving through another open space between the moving clouds. The moon and the clear sky disappear as the ground appears.

A familiar heartbeat echoes in your ears. Calm and steady. You swallow down a burst of emotion, pinpointing where it is, picking out which apartment is his when you come upon a five-story brick building.

You land quietly on his balcony. The curtains over the sliding door are drawn, leaving you to hesitate—no one likes hearing a knock on their balcony doors and it would be just your luck that you might scare Jaemin into an early grave by doing that—

A sudden sound.

“Holy shit—”

A dark grey cat with yellow eyes jumps onto the balcony, slipping through the metal fencing. Without pause and without fear, it hisses at you, back hair standing sharply on end.

You hold up your hands. “Woah…”

The balcony door slides open quickly. Jaemin pokes his head out, doing a double take at the sight of you.

“Hi. Your cat doesn’t like me.”

“He’s not mine,” he says, stepping out, can of Fancy Feast held in hand. “Dali’s a stray. I have no idea how he keeps getting all the way up here, but I figured I might as well feed him while he’s here.”

He sets the can of food on the ground. The cat—Dali—hisses at you, ignoring Jaemin’s quiet scold in Korean (then English), and dives in, eating for a moment, looking up to hiss at you again, and then going back to eating. You watch him warily.

“Out of everything,” Jaemin says, bemused, “a cat is what scares you?”

“I have great respect for cats as creatures, that’s all. Also—I’m invulnerable but my clothes aren’t.”

He shakes his head. “He won’t do anything. He’s… all hiss, no bite.”

“Ah.”

Jaemin glances around, then reaches for you; you suppress a full-body shudder as his hand, so very warm, wraps around your wrist, tugging lightly. “You should come inside.”

Rendered speechless by the sudden contact—and him initiating that contact—you have no choice but to nod and let him pull you inside. The curtain flutters back into place when he closes the sliding door again. You kick off your sneakers, leaving them by the door.

“So,” you start, ignoring the racket that your heart is making in your chest right now, “you’re okay, right?”

Jaemin gives you such an incredulous look that you have to suppress a laugh. “I’m okay? You’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Yes? I mean, in fairness to myself, it was a… very stressful situation that we were in earlier—”

“You were the one that got shot.”

“…It doesn’t happen often, is the thing. At all, actually. That was my… first ever brush with kryptonite, if you can believe it. Superman tries very hard not to let me get exposed to it. Not really for the reasons you would think, either—I mean, yes, because kryptonite bad but that’s not really fair when you consider that he gets just as affected as I do but, um, it’s because—Krypton.”

“Krypton?”

Jaemin’s wearing cat socks. Space-themed. Space cats.

You chew on your bottom lip. “The core was unstable. Too much energy, nowhere to go. Argo City was the only one to survive, protected by its own atmosphere that my parents had helped create years before simply as an environmental measure. It helped shield us from the full force of the blast, but… not enough. People still died in the initial blast. But then afterward… the parts of Krypton that were left, what we stood on, was… poisoning us. It was kryptonite. It killed my father first. Then the rest of the people in droves. I managed to escape it; I don’t know why. Didn’t matter anyway. It was going to kill us. It did.”

Jaemin’s apartment looks lived in, you think. He’s struggled with so much and yet, he seems to have made a home here despite that. You two really are the same, aren’t you?

“My mother didn’t want me to die,” you say quietly. “Even though she was starting to get sick from the radiation, she managed to pull together a ship for me, one last final shot for me to survive. I didn’t want to leave but I had to. So… my memories of Krypton in its final days aren’t great, you know? The sickness, the death. I’d gotten lucky and I’d never felt the effects of the kryptonite, there, and even here, at least up until now because… I think because he didn’t want me to know what it was like for them. For my parents. For everyone else.”

“I’d do the same,” Jaemin murmurs. “You shouldn’t have to know that kind of suffering.”

You shrug. “That’s life.”

“But not all of it.”

His hand is on yours now, palm sitting against your knuckles, thumb rubbing idly over your wrist.

Your lips twitch. “See?”

“What?”

You look up at him, meeting his eyes, wondering when he got so close. “You’re like me, too.”

“You think so?”

“I do. You still believe—you still have hope, despite everything. Just like me.”

Begrudgingly, reluctantly, you know he does. You get the sense that it would go against everything in him to lose that hope.

“Your influence, probably.”

You reach up to push lightly at his chest. “Own it, Jaemin.”

He chuckles. “Alright. Sorry.”

You shake your head.

“So…” You glance back at him, tilting your head as his previous smile falters a bit, a more serious look coming onto his face. “You’re… okay.”

Reluctantly, you let go of his hand, reaching for the hem of your hoodie to pull it over your head. He takes it from you, tossing it over the back of the couch a few feet from you. You push up the sleeve of your t-shirt, pushing it as far back as you can to reveal the skin of your shoulder, the area where the bullet hit, where a scar should be but is not, skin fully healed.

“Good as new.”

He stares and you get the feeling he’s remembering what it looked like more than anything else.

You don’t move when he lifts a hand, staying perfectly still as his fingers hover over the spot where, a few hours ago, you were shot and bleeding from. You can feel the heat of his hand even with that, swallowing. The action itself is fine. So is the area. But you don’t quite anticipate what it would feel like to have his hands anywhere else other than your own hands. At the first brush of his fingers, your arm twitches.

He pulls back, looking guilty. “Sorry—are you still—?”

“No,” you quickly say, warmth flooding your face. “No, it’s—it’s completely healed, promise. Doesn’t hurt. I’m just. Um. Super senses… heightened touch… sort of… sensitive to that… in general… Not really used to anyone other than my immediate family touching me just ‘cause no one really… as Supergirl, you know, the perception of me and my… alien-ness. Doesn’t make a lot of people desperate to get close to me.”

A strange emotion flits over Jaemin’s face. It’s gone too quickly for you to really decipher it. His touch returns, hand fully settling on your arm, thumb brushing over the area where the bullet was. You have to fight a full-body shiver at the touch. His hand is warm, soft, with a few callouses.

(You wonder where he got them from. Did he play any sports when he was younger?)

He still appears faintly troubled. You can’t say you don’t feel the same.

The distinction between you and Supergirl is a clear one—one that must exist, a necessity. Not just for your own safety, but because you (and Kun) also believe that most humans, especially the ones that don’t like you, wouldn’t like the thought of knowing you lived like they did, that at the end of the day, even with the power that the Sol gave you, you were just another person, another being like them trying to get through life. Some might be okay with it, like Renjun, who probably doesn’t consciously realize it, but sees you like anyone else. But others wouldn’t—they need something different. For some, Superman and Supergirl as mere protectors of earth, solemn guardians overseeing humanity. For others, like those in Metropolis, that, too, but also someone kind, someone who would help them save a cat stuck in a tree or help them find a lost dog.

But with Jaemin… maybe in the beginning, you tried to keep to that, to the polite and responsible hero, but he got under your skin far too quickly, and by now, by this point, after everything that happened, the lines are blurred. You feel more you than Supergirl. The only thing missing is your name.

All that’s left is to wonder how he sees it.

“But that’s fine,” you say in the next second. Jaemin’s hand leaves your arm, dropping to the side. A few streaks of blue ink stain his index and middle finger from the pen he must’ve been using earlier. “It’s what they need. To see us as… larger than life. If being disgusted at the thought of touching us goes with that, then… so be it.”

He purses his lips. You try not to linger on how pink they are, soft and plush.

“I don’t see you that way,” he mumbles.

Your pulse thunders in your ears. “I had wondered,” you admit.

Jaemin frowns. “After what I said—?”

You push gently at his chest. The heat of him is palpable even through his t-shirt and it lingers on your fingertips. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you remind him. “If you didn’t, you would have no reason to try and see me that way.”

“I had. From… pretty much the very beginning. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t weird at first but that was more my own issues than anything about you and you being Kryptonian. I just…”

“Have—had?—a chip on your shoulder. One that is valid, don’t get me wrong, but, you know.” You smile up at him.

“I wasn’t always like that—like this.”

You’ve seen it, rare bouts of playfulness that come out, usually taking your breath away. But the way he is now isn’t so bad, either. At least—as long as it’s without the pain and burden of what he left behind and what still hangs over him.

“But regardless of that,” he goes on. “It might be presumptuous to say this but… I think I’ve always seen you as you are.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “It’s—nice to be seen.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

The look on his face is soft, softer than you’ve ever seen it before—softer than when you’ve seen him pet stray cats and dogs during your patrols or talk to the neighborhood kids who play soccer in the street.

You’re effectively stripped bare now, knowing he sees you for you, but he’s still missing the final piece, the thing that’ll expose you for everything you are, the name you have, the name you were given. But what’s so bad about it? Maybe there is some part of you that fears being seen like that to the greater public, that needs a veneer of responsibility and duty preventing you from appearing too human. Too… feeling and thinking. It’s so much easier to get hurt like that. Here, now, you’re baring all the soft and fragile bits of you now—intentionally, purposefully. He saw it before, but you hadn’t known that. Now you do and you give him permission to carve out your heart if he wants it.

It’s like you said. It’s nice to be seen.

Your heart is thundering now but—so is his. He’s nervous. Just like you. The tips of his ears are red, a visible flush starting to creep into his cheeks. If he gets any closer to you, he’ll feel the warmth in your face, too.

“I don’t know how much you know,” you admit in a whisper. “If you’ve looked into it.”

“I meant what I said when I said I didn’t care about that.”

“Maybe it’s because you see everything you need to see and that’s enough… but it’s not enough for me. You have to know. I want you to know.”

He nods. You step closer, taking a deep breath. You’re almost dizzy with nerves, which is a real feat, since you physically can’t get dizzy.

Jaemin’s hands take yours, then slide up your arms. You breathe shallowly, overwhelmed at the simplest and gentlest of movements, but no one’s ever touched you like that before, no one that wasn’t your family. It’s a reassuring movement, you can tell, since your eyes aren’t on his face but on his shirt instead.

He squeezes your arms, whispering, “It’s okay.”

When he pulls you in, you go without resistance. His heart pounds beneath your ear. Warmth surrounds you, a nonsensical feeling of security found in his embrace because by all accounts, you are the one who can stand against nature and fight battles that humans cannot fight on their own. You are the one protecting. And yet…

A tension that never quite seems to leave your shoulders no matter what finally escapes you. One of his arms braces over your shoulder blades, the other diagonal across your back, hand finding a home at your waist. It’s almost terrifying how right it feels.

But the rightness of it, like this is what you’ve been searching the universe for, is what tips you over the edge.

You lean your cheek against his chest, his heart thrumming beneath your ear, and tell him your name. His arms tighten around you. He murmurs it back. At the sound of your name from his lips, you shiver, inhaling sharply, fingers balling the material of his t-shirt. The arm around your shoulder drops, moving, until his hand cups your cheek. Lightning sparks down your spine at the sensation. You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Can I—?”

Strands of his hair tickles your forehead. You nod.

Jaemin’s lips are soft against yours. You’re trembling faintly, you realize, his arm tightening around you, pulling you closer, flush against him, both to keep you close and you think maybe also to keep you grounded. You move your lips tentatively. He doesn’t overwhelm you. Maybe keenly aware of how much this is for you. An onslaught on your senses. The scent of his shampoo, the warmth of his body, the heat of his mouth, the sound of his heart pounding in his chest, breathing shallow and unsteady as he tilts his head and your lips slot together even more perfectly.

Jaemin kisses you so gently, so tenderly, your heart aches.

You break for air—mostly for him. He leans his forehead against yours, breathing unsteady.

His thumb strokes the apple of your cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a goodbye.”

“Not a goodbye. I’m not leaving. I’m not running away again. I’m here.”

You hug him. Bury your face in his neck and mold your body to his. He holds you back just as tightly.

And you know, neither of you is going anywhere.

Two months later “Where’s your shadow?” “Sorry?” Who is this one? You can’t remember his name. He’s been at the Daily Planet for a while, you know that much. You’ve seen him in the vicinity of Kun and Lina’s cubicles. He’s older, with rumpled clothes and elbow patches, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and an odd amount of antagonism. “Your shadow. Na.” “I wouldn’t know.” You do know. He’s at his apartment, washing dishes and grumbling to himself about you eating the last of his ice cream. He had wanted to come out, when news broke about some incident at City Hall, but you convinced him to leave this one. He only agreed if you bought more ice cream on the way back. “Can’t complain, I guess. Kid snatches up all the good stories, doesn’t leave anything for us.” Lina would disagree with that. You could just hear her saying, If you were good at your job, you’d find a good story. Jaemin would probably agree. You don’t say that. You don’t say anything, watching the gunmen get driven off in the back of the police cars. The reporter whose name you don’t remember eventually walks off, muttering to himself about favoritism. Your lips twitch. You should head back soon. It’s late and you’re tired, having assisted with a few wildfires in Australia. You just want to shower and eat ice cream and cuddle with Jaemin and watch soap operas. Before you go, though, the sound of your name stops you. Not your name, rather, but— “Supergirl?” An accent. Familiar. Stronger than Jaemin’s, that curls some of his intonations on certain words he speaks. He’s always complaining about your near photographic memory that is letting you pick up Korean faster than he picked up English. You turn. Then do a double take. You’ve seen pictures of Ms. Na. Jaemin has pictures of the two of them from his high school graduation, then a few outings together after that. You always get the sense he feels guilty that they never got one at his graduation from med school. The tall guy with her is familiar, too. Lee Jeno. Jaemin’s childhood best friend and the one who went to med school with him. Ms. Na is older, but not frail. Still, she looks a bit like a ghost standing there, Jeno hovering closely by her side. An air of desperation hangs over them, the kind that sobers you. You approach them. “How can I help you?” “You know my son,” she says simply, gazing at you with the same dark eyes that Jaemin has. “I do,” you say softly. His mother is still a sensitive topic these days. But you know he’s trying to muster up the courage to call her. To see her. Hell, maybe even fly back to Korea. Explain in person. He wants to. But it’s hard, isn’t it, going back, knowing you hurt the person you loved and who loved you back so much. “Can you… can we see him?” You look at them, Ms. Na, dressed in finely-pressed button-up and slacks, but slightly disheveled all the same, weary with the circles under her eyes. Jeno hovering close, unmistakably protective of her, but still clearly not untouched by the pain of Jaemin’s departure. Finally, you give them a small smile. “I think he would like that.”

Grocery bags dangle from your fingers as you fish out the key to Jaemin’s apartment. The TV is on, playing a sitcom. Three heartbeats—and another on the balcony, Dali having his dinner—ring out. Looks like Ms. Na and Jeno found their way here. Good. You’d texted Jaemin in warning and had heard his pulse skyrocket as soon as he read it. You had already shot into the sky when he texted you saying he was okay—that he would be okay. With great reluctance, you held back on going home and instead ran out to pick up the ice cream as promised.

Considering they’re all still here, Jeno and Jaemin talking in Korean, the former laughing at something and the latter joining, too, you assume it went as well as it could.

You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose, then step inside. Your boyfriend is on his feet before you’re even fully inside, taking the grocery bags from you. Instead of the usual kiss in greeting, he takes your hand, squeezing, brown eyes shining with a newfound energy and warmth. You pretend to use him for balance as you pull off your shoes, just to keep holding his hand.

He introduces you to Jeno, an embarrassing amount of affection dripping from his voice when he says your name and introduces you as his girlfriend. Jeno doesn’t seem to be aware or suspicious of anything, thankfully, and kindly greets you back. Ms. Na is another story entirely. Emerging from the guest bathroom evidently refreshed, though her eyes are still red, she appraises you carefully.

According to Jaemin, though he never tried to purposefully dig into your identity, because he ‘paid an embarrassing amount of attention to you prior to getting together’ he had noticed you, both when you’d pop into the office for lunch with Kun and Lina, and that one time when he ordered from Sleepless Bites. It’s not like he made any hard conclusions but—there was a sense of familiarity, even if you carried yourself very differently in each identity.

With the timing and the fact that Supergirl spent enough time around Na Jaemin to be noticeable by them, truthfully, you probably should’ve spent the night with Kun and Lina. Just to let their memory—her memory—of you weaken a little bit. But you can’t leave Jaemin alone for this. Even if they’ve apparently reconciled, at the end of the day… you have to be here for him.

Even if Ms. Na is looking at you intently, dark eyes gleaming with familiarity. But she says nothing about it, simply shaking your hand, hers warm in your grip.

“How long have you known each other?”

Jaemin glances at you. “For a while now. Almost a year, right?”

“Eight months,” you confirm.

She squeezes your hand, giving you a look you aren’t quite sure how to decipher but one that doesn’t alarm you, anyway. “I’m glad you were here for him.”

You smile faintly as Jaemin looks away, embarrassed. “Glad to be here.”

She lets you go. Jaemin waves for her to sit down, then heads for the kitchen. You follow him.

“So…?”

He sets the bag on the counter, then pulls out the cartons of ice cream. You take them, opening the freezer and finding places for them.

“Well, three years of radio silence isn’t going to be fixed in one good night.”

“But…?” Because there very much is a but here. Even if you’d been able to smell the salt of tears shed when you came in, there is a visible weight that has been lifted from his shoulder’s—from Ms. Na and Jeno, too. Not quite as desperate as they appeared earlier. They’d perhaps prepared for the worst—that Jaemin might turn them away for one final time. He had done the same—that neither his mother nor Jeno would take him back.

“But,” he goes on slowly, smile forming on his lips, “it’s a start.”

You are unable to stop a stupid grin from forming on your lips.

“It’s a start—a great start—you’re exactly right—I’m so proud of you, you know—mmpf!”

He crushes you to him, kissing you long and hard, like he’s trying to steal the breath from your lungs. Which is, unfortunately, not physically possible for you as a Kryptonian. Actually—as nice as this is, his hands on your hips, lips warm against yours—

You gently push at his chest, a reminder about air. One that he needs because you swear, it’s like he’s trying to beat you at holding your breath, but again—human who needs air to breathe and live, Kryptonian who technically doesn’t (but admittedly breathing has become a habit for you, one that’s uncomfortable to shed).

Jaemin doesn’t budge until you push a little more and he finally pulls away.

“Your lungs are going to shrivel up and die if you keep doing that.”

He smiles and kisses you again. “That’s not medically possible.”

“Well, that’s where you’re headed if you keep that up.”

Forehead against yours, eyes shut with a content smile, his shoulders shake with laughter. You lean into him, enjoying the warmth of him, the feeling of his arms around you, heart beating in his chest.

Things are going to get better. They already were, even without this impromptu visit from his mother and being able to reconcile with her—and Jeno. It’s like you said—he’s making friends at work, getting along well with Kun, Lina, and Jay, even Maria loved him to bits when she met him for the first time last week. You’re making friends, too, going to games with Jisung and then going out to eat afterward with him and Chenle. It's not like you were some kind of ghost before this—you enjoyed yourself, you were content, you didn’t have much yearning for anything else, but now that you do, you’re happier. You feel more grounded. Present. There’s more to hope for, to look forward to. You know Jaemin feels the same way. No longer just going through the motions but actually planning for the future.

You’ve even had a few late-night conversations about whether he wants to go back to school. He’s surmised that med school simply isn’t for him but—that’s not the only healthcare position that exists. As it happens, Metropolis University’s nursing program is one of the best in the country and there are scholarships he can apply to to help with tuition. As for you, you still quite enjoy your work at Sleepless Bites but there are still a lot of things you want to try and that Jaemin happily encourages you to do so.

Like you said. There is so much more to hope for and look forward to now.

It is this, you think, that your parents wanted for you.

Exactly this.

#na jaemin #jaemin #nct dream #nct #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin fluff #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #na jaemin angst #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x you #na jaemin x you #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #na jaemin imagines #jaemin imagines #sun writes

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jaemskitty · 2 months

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maridos e esposas — Na Jaemin

gênero: angst

n/a: estou devastada, boa leitura! perdão aos possíveis erros.

Sexta à noite nunca foi tão fria, nem mesmo as de invernos rigorosos. Já era inverno? Não sabia, pois perdera a noção de tempo e espaço.

Entretanto achava que já era inverno no coração daquele homem. Aquele homem cujo há três anos portava o sobrenome, aquele cujo a aliança brilhava no anelar, mas de nada parecia servir. Era ouro puro, mas já não tinha valor nenhum. É, o inverno havia chegado no coração de Na Jaemin, seu esposo.

Mordeu o lábio tremulo de frio e fixou os olhos nos profundos do homem a sua frente e tentou ser a garota mais forte desse mundo, mas não conseguia com aquele cheiro sob seu nariz; um perfume feminino que não era o seu.

Talvez não deveria ter deixado chegar naquele ponto, mas você o amava demais. Demais. Tanto. Incondicionalmente. Sempre amou, é por isso que enfrentava aquele inverno mais do que lhe era saudável.

Dentro daquela banheira enorme seu corpo nu perdia-se no vazio e frieza da agua esbranquiçada. Sozinha. Jaemin estava do lado de fora da banheira, sentado ao lado, centímetros de distância um do outro.

— Se sente bem? — indagou com um nó dolorido na garganta, tombando a cabeça devagarzinho e dramaticamente na borda da banheira, levando o dedo indicador molhado até a aliança reluzente de Jaemin, brincando infantilmente.

O loiro mais velho engoliu e franziu as sobrancelhas em questionamento, pois nao entendia sua linguagem, seu silencio feminino. E isso era um dos agravantes, talvez ele não saber ler nenhum de seus sinais tenha os levado até esse frio desconcertante.

Que se dane, de qualquer forma. Seu peito doía colossalmente, mas estava sendo tão forte.

— Do quê tá falando, minha menina? — O cheiro do álcool era nítido, e por mais que fosse cansativamente recorrente sempre te incomodava como das primeiras vezes. Jaemin não chegava caindo de bebado, mas dificilmente estava sóbrio.

Fungou ainda encolhida, com a bochechinha descansando ali naquela louça cara. A casa que Jaemin lhe prometeu por anos e ao casarem-se ele cumpriu cada uma de suas promessas.

— Quero saber se o que você tem feito te deixa bem, Jaemin. — Por enquanto estava firme, mas não sabia até quando, até qual momento. Olhar para Jaemin naquela altura do campeonato parecia cortar seu pobre coraçãozinho, mas o fez, o fez pois queria saber se terminava assim. Se era real que seu maior sonho, ser esposa daquele homem, iria descolorir assim.

Os olhos encheram-se d'agua e, para sua surpresa, vira dor nos olhos do Na, arrependimento talvez. Sorriu dolorida deixando uma lágrima quente, grossa e ácida escorrer de seus lindos olhos, molhando toda sua bochecha vermelha do frio. A mesma delicada mão que tocava a aliança do Na ergueu-se até o rosto do mesmo, e tocar nele agora parecia como da primeira vez de tanto tempo que fazia.

— Onde errei, meu querido? — Sussurrou acariciando a bochecha do loiro, o vendo cada vez mais expressivo. Jaemin negava lentamente, os olhos os quais você perdidamente apaixonou-se agora avermelhados devido ao leve teor alcoólico e lágrimas. Lágrimas? Parecia uma piada. — Valeu a pena? — Cada palavra sua sequenciava uma lágrima e sua cabeça doía tanto.

— Minha m-menina...e-eu sinto muito. — Foi tudo o que ele conseguiu dizer, sentindo seu toque adocicado, sentindo o perfume doce do mesmo sabonete de baunilha que você usou na noite nupcial.

A noite que Jaemin te fez dele, quando ele arrancou de ti qualquer resquício de inocência. Sempre seria especial, sempre lembraria de como se sentiu amada por aquele homem que te roubava os batimentos cardíacos mais acelerados. Apesar dos pesares sempre seria louca por ele, e era isso que mais te machucava muito provavelmente.

Não conseguia odiá-lo.

Riu-se em meio às lágrimas e impulsionou o corpo um pouquinho a frente, o suficiente para ficar rente ao maior, deixando um suave beijo no nariz bonito do Na.

— Você não sente nada, querido...Tá' tudo bem, hm? — Sempre amena, aquela delicada voz que conquistou Jaemin, mas não foi o suficiente para mantê-lo por perto.

Jaemin chorou. Um soluço masculino foi bem capitado por seus ouvidos quando caiu na água outra vez, exausta e exposta. De que importava? Eram dois estranhos, mas dois estranhos conhecidos.

— Eu...e-eu...— Nada saía dele, somente barulhos e lágrimas.

Sorriu ao ver que um homem de quase quarenta anos ainda parecia um garoto quando exposto a situações de fraqueza. Ele era tudo o que vocês tinham.

Vocês.

A mãozinha desceu até seu ventre, um tanto quanto inchado, mas só você notou aquilo, até porque somente você via seu corpo ultimamente. E então foi tomada por soluços fortes, abrasivos e dolorosos.

Como chegaram nesse estado?

Jaemin parecia paralisado em meio as lágrimas te vendo tocar ali. Incógnito agarrou a beirada da banheira com força e ansiedade, olhando e buscando respostas, mas desesperado com o seu pranto.

— E-eu estou grávida, querido...— fungou — esse era o nosso sonho há um ano atrás, lembra? — O desespero era nítido, pois cansou de ser forte. Talvez ainda fosse uma garotinha. — S-sinto que vai ser Luna...— Tocava ali como uma verdadeira mãe. Nua e totalmente reduzida aquele homem, como vem sendo. — Minha Luna. — Sussurrou.

Jaemin limpou o rosto nervoso e buscou contato, mas você encolheu-se inteira na banheira, o mirando, tirando os cabelos longos molhados de frente ao rosto vermelho. Aquilo disse tudo a Jaemin.

Era muito, muito tarde.

Sua respiração ofegante normalizou aos poucos, a medida que rastejou até a borda outra vez, olhando o Na de perto outra vez. Sem tocar no homem em sua frente, segurando-se na beirada, tomou impulso para outra vez estar rente aquele rosto bonito.

— Ia te dar hoje essa notícia, e...E-eu estava tão nervosa...— Sorriu amarga contra os lábios de Jaemin e o beijou, sugando o inferior dentro da propria boquinha. — Obrigada por t-tornar isso mais fácil, querido.

Ele então pela primeira vez soube que estava perdido.

— _____...

— Shhhhh....— Repousou a mão enfeitada com a aliança delicada contra a boca do mesmo. — É m-muito tarde...Nós v-vamos ficar bem...Você vai ficar bem. — Ainda sussurrando fechou os olhinhos, cheia de dores e amarguras, beijou a testa de Jaemin.

E essa foi a deixa. Foi a ultima vez que estiveram tão próximos do que um dia fora intimidade.

#joy things #na jaemin #na jaemin fics #angst sim #angst #sem final felizz #na jaemin angst #xoxa #joy ta xoxa #na jaemin x reader

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hirokari · 1 year

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rain-sitting.

p: na jaemin x gn!reader | wc: 2.7k | g: high school!au, best friends to enemies to more, slight angst, fluff, high school academic rivals | cw: explicit language, food and eating | a/n: hmm lowkey cheesy but . so what im so insanely in love with jaemin

Your socks are getting wet. You suppose that's a given when you've been sitting in the rain for thirty minutes, but you can't help but cringe at the slush of it every time you shift in your position.

Your t-shirt clings to your abdomen and you constantly have to pull at it, sniffing and breathing in the scent of fresh rain.

Normally you'd love the scent of it. Its earthy and fresh, and you don't ever mind that it can be cold. Though, as you watch the rain bounce against the pavement, you still can't bring yourself to dislike the weather. God knows how long you've been here, but you don't mind staying another moment longer.

To your surprise, the rain stops hitting your body. You're a little startled at the sound of aggressive patter against an umbrella and look up.

Nothing could have prepared you for the fact that Na Jaemin towers over you, letting himself get drenched because he's holding his umbrella over your hunched body.

He stares at you. After looking up at him for a moment, you look down to your feet, too embarrassed to say anything.

"What, is this a hobby of yours? Rain-sitting?"

You don't answer.

Though he sighs, Jaemin stays put by your side, still holding his umbrella out to shield you. A minute passes by. Then two. By now, you're hoping he'll give up and walk away-- back to wherever he came from-- because you don't think you can handle the embarrassment of explaining how you'd twisted your ankle running in the rain.

Finally, after deciding he'd been under the rain for too long, you look back up at him, who's still watching over you, eyes somehow kinder than they used to be.

"Hi," You croak. Jaemin can't help but let his chest clench a little. The corner of his lips twitches up, "Hi, yes, I've been here for like, 30 minutes."

"It wasn't that long," You scoff in a suppressed whisper. Jaemin raises his brows at you, "Oh, so you were aware I was here?"

You don't answer.

Jaemin sighs yet again, slowly lowering to your level. You watch the boy, slightly enamoured by the look on his face, uncaring for the fact that he's still being rained on just to keep the umbrella over you.

He sits next to you on the pavement, nudging the hand which holds his umbrella against your knuckle. With a moment's hesitation and your cautious eyes meeting with his, you take it with a slight tremble in your fingers due to the cold.

And you decide you don't like the fact that Na Jaemin is getting rained on, so you shift closer to him, the sound of your shoes scraping against the gravelly pavement mixing in with the rain that now calms down.

"Why are you here? Do you have anywhere to go?" Asks Jaemin, shuffling closer to your side to shelter from the weather. "The project. Jeno's place is around here but he had something to do last minute so we rescheduled. Tried running home but- uh,"

You pause, partly because you're too embarrassed to admit you'd fallen and twisted your ankle, another part shy about the fact that Jaemin is literally pressed up against your side.

You grumble with your lips pressed against each other, "I tw-s m'nkl."

"Um, sorry?"

"I," You heave, eyes squinting shut as you turn your face towards him, "twisted. My ankle."

Jaemin wears a worried expression on his face, which surprises you a little. Almost hurriedly (you don't want to imagine things), Jaemin lunges and reaches forward to your right ankle, to which you laugh at.

"Wrong one, genius."

"How was I supposed to know?" Replies Jaemin, though his tone suggests he was jesting.

You let him inspect your ankle, letting your stomach and chest do everything but stay calm when he grazes your skin with his fingers. He tilts it a little, eyes casting up to you in assurance that you're not hurt, then turns your ankle over.

"Can you walk?"

"Not on my own, no."

The boy pauses, still grazing his fingers down your ankle until he taps on the material of your shoe. "Alright," Sniffling and scrunching his nose up, Jaemin turns around, still squatted in front of you, and stretches his arms backwards.

"Get on."

"What?"

"Get on my back, Y/N."

"I can't," You deny. You reasonably can physically, but you don't think your heart could take it.

"Y/N," He says your name again, this time softer as he looks back at you. Clenching the umbrella tighter in your hand, you give in with slightly dusted cheeks and lean forward, one arm wrapping across his shoulder blades, the other holding his umbrella over the both of you.

"On 3, okay?"

"Okay,"

Jaemin plants his palms on the underside of your thighs, his touch still somehow warm despite the amount of time he'd spent under the rain. At some point he already started counting down, but you were too carried away with the feeling of his fingers hooking across the pit of your knee, his touch conveying a gentle message in a way. In some strange way that you interpret it perfectly well.

"That's not so bad," Jaemin clears his throat, ascending up to his feet. "You okay back there?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me if I get too heavy," You reply half-heartedly, feeling a little stupid at the fact that you'd been fawning over the touch of your academic rival.

You press the side of your forehead against the back of his neck. Jaemin shivers, but likes the comfort you give him just from a simple, non-intentional gesture.

"We're going to my place,"

"What? No-no, you can just drop me off at the bus station, Na."

"What, and leave you alone all night? You live across town, Y/N."

You don't object after that. You hate when Jaemin is right, but you hate it even more when you can't argue with him. Wordless, Jaemin turns towards the direction of his house, steady with his footsteps as he walks. He can't help but smile a little when you notice his front side was exposed a slight bit and adjust the umbrella so you're both equally shielded, though there isn't really any more use to that because you're both extremely wet.

"I can't just crash at your place," You attempt to object again.

"You're not crashing," Replies Jaemin, bouncing and tightening his hold on you. "I'm making you stay at my place."

"You're kidnapping me."

"I'm kidnapping you."

You can't help the little laugh that bubbles out your throat-- a small chuckle-- which makes Jaemin's lips stretch in a wider smile, chuckling to himself.

It's until when Jaemin slowly sets you down on his porch when you realize it has been the longest time since you'd been to his place. 9th grade, 2nd semester. His mom had invited you over for lunch because you were Na Jaemin's technical best friend at the time.

When the door opens, Jaemin offers a hand out to you, which you take. He tugs you closer to his side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you grounded and balanced (but you'd reacted the opposite because he was pressed so close against you).

His place is the same as it was the last time you'd visited: a family portrait hung up above the drawer next to the shoe holder; a four-seat dinner table sits in front of the kitchen counter; Jaemin's name hung up on his door written in his middle school handwriting (you'd ever forgotten it).

"There," Grunts Jaemin a little as he sets you down on the couch. You cringe, "Aren't you bothered your couch is gonna get wet?" You watch the boy retrieve an aid kit from a drawer, fetching a fresh wrap and playing with it.

"Nope," He says as he plops down next to you, his own clothes wetting the cushions. His fingers tap at your knee and he looks at your ankle. You turn. lifting your ankle towards him, which he takes and sets on his lap carefully.

"Though these wraps are pretty expensive," Sighs Jaemin, lightly pressing against your skin. "you need it."

You don't understand.

Jaemin... hasn't been on the best terms with you. As much as you hate to admit it, he makes fun of you. Rubs his grades in your face, unwilling to accept defeat when you reveal a perfect score. You'd had an argument in front of half the school because Mark had spilled that you liked him-- at the time. But that was two years ago.

People change, you suppose. In silence.

Watching him, it's hard for you to believe this boy-- the one that'd insulted you in front of a majority of the student body-- is helping you to this extent.

Jaemin notices you staring, and sees the unintentional frown you wear.

"I... understand."

"Hm?"

"If you- hate. Me." His voice is strained, quiet. Guilty, almost. You shake your head, "No, no. I don't." You absorb the moment, fully realizing that Na Jaemin doesn't hate you either with the way he looks at you.

"I don't think I could hate you."

It seems to have triggered something in Jaemin, and suddenly he's sitting a little closer to you, turning. "I never hated you." You give him a surprised look, "You didn't?"

"No, I'm just... extremely, extremely stupid. When I heard you had feelings for me, I-"

You waves your hands at him, shaking your head with a bitter frown, "Oh, we don't have to talk about that, Na. Please spare me the embarrassment." Though you attempt to jest, he still think he's at fault.

There's a silence in the air. A suffocating one. Jaemin still grazes his fingers over your bandaged ankle, a chest clenching look on his face.

"You need fresh clothes." He says, voice strained. Before you can say anything back, Jaemin is quick to get up and leave to his room, leaving you alone with the sound of the clock that hangs in the center of the room, its ticking slowing the more you pay attention to it.

You take this time to observe your ankle he'd just bandaged. It was done with care, you can tell just by looking at it, the feeling of it not too tight nor too loose. You remember he'd always wanted to work in the medicine field, so it was a given he was experienced with things like this.

Jaemin has told you many things over the span of 5 years that you've known him. He likes books and coffee and all things yellow. He likes taking photos of every moment, whether it be scenery or a portrait of any of his friends.

He practically lives off of sweets. You remember he'd joked with you about it, both of you wondering how he has not had a stroke yet. He was, inevitably, your best friend. And you were his. Were.

Jaemin comes back with a pair of sweats and a thin t-shirt, offering them to you, "Here. Tell me if you need a hoodie or a jacket. In case you get cold."

You take the clothes, smiling and thanking him quietly. "I can walk myself to the bathroom. Thanks again, Na."

Jaemin's shirt smells like him, and it feels fresh. You're relieved to change out of your clothes, a moment longer or you'd have caught a cold. As you wring the water out of your hair over the sink, you notice to your side: a cup, with two toothbrushes. One yellow, another green.

"Holy shit," You mumble, stunned. The green toothbrush is all too familiar-- its yours. From when you slept over. In the tenth grade. "Ew," You laugh to yourself, wondering how long it sat here.

Discarding your wet clothes in a plastic bag he'd given you, you walk out of the bathroom, still holding and scrutinizing the toothbrush.

"You do realize you have, like, a two year-old toothbrush in the same cup as your own, right?" You say as you slowly approach Jaemin, who cooks in the kitchen. He freezes, slowly turning to you.

"I'm not a creep, I swear."

"No, you're just a nostalgist."

"That I am." He laughs, taking the toothbrush from your grasp. "Guess I just really enjoyed that sleepover."

There's a solemn look on his face. "Look, I want to apologize to you. I had no right to treat you like I did. And I can't just show back up into your life like this-- without an apology."

"Na, you don't need to apologize."

"Stop calling me that." Jaemin sighs, exasperated. You notice his fist clenching, confused at the sudden damp in his mood. "What? Calling you what?"

"Na. Just call me Jaemin, like everyone. Or- Jaem. Like you. Like you used to. I hate thinking about the fact that I'd pushed you so far away to the point you can't even say my name like you used to. I never meant to. I was- I'm just so-"

He stops himself, unwilling to continue.

"Jaemin," You say. "Your-"

"I swear to god if you're going to blame and put yourself down like you always do, I'm going to rip my hair out. I hurt you. To the point where I can't possibly fix it."

"Jaem-"

"It can't be mended and it can't go back to the way it was. I'm always running my mouth before I think and it's going to be the death of me-- but please let me make it up to you before that happens."

"Jaemin. Dude." You land a firm smack on his shoulder. He feigns a wince, holding his arm. "What the hell was that for? I' trying to apologize to you."

You can't help but chuckle, pointing to the stove behind him, "Try not to burn your food first." Jaemin lets out a string of profanities, turning the stove off in a hurry.

"That... was supposed to be our dinner."

"I don't mind instant ramen," You say, opening the cabinet. You're surprised you still remember where he'd kept his ramen packs. "I'm sorry," Grumbles Jaemin, chucking the charred food into the trash.

"It's fine, I haven't treated myself to ramen in a while."

"No, I mean. For letting my mouth run. Again." The boy rubs his brow, still holding your toothbrush. He takes a glance at it, "It really can't go back to the way it was, can it? As much as some things stay the same, time can't."

You sigh as you rip open a packet, "No. But things can be mended. You just need strength." You pause and turn around, pinching the end of his nose, "And control over your own mouth."

Jaemin laughs, swatting your hand away. He watches with fond eyes as you prepare two packets of ramen for the both of you, content with the sight of you in his clothes.

"Actually, honestly speaking, I..." He coughs a little before continuing. "I used to like you."

"What?" You ask in a laugh.

"Yeah, ninth grade. And tenth." Jaemin shifts in his position, planting his hands against the kitchen's cold granite counter. "...and eleventh."

You give him a look, expecting him to stop. He shrugs at the look you give him, "And maybe, in the slightest, smallest chance, now."

"Na Jaemin likes me?" You repeat, incredulous. "I'm flattered, but, I never saw this coming."

"You didn't? I thought it was pretty obvious,"

"No, I guess you rejecting me in front of half of the school's student body gave me the vibes that, you didn't like me." You say, not showing the slightest bit of bitterness in your voice. Jaemin rubs his face, wearing a frown, "I'm really sorry about that."

"Dude, it was tenth grade. It doesn't matter now, does it?" You reply nonchalantly, mixing your ramen in its seasoning. Clapping your hands against your lap, you declare the food is done and hand Jaemin a pair of chopsticks that you'd taken from the drawer.

"No, it doesn't, I guess." He hums, taking the offered chopsticks. "I don't suppose it's too late to ask you out? On a date?"

You almost laugh at how nervous he sounds. The Na Jaemin is fidgety and bashful? You need to savor this.

"No, it's not too late," You mention, eating on a mouthful or ramen right after. Jaemin beams, bumping his hip to yours as he shoves the ramen you'd made into his own mouth.

Despite what he said, Jaemin believes things can still be mended, no matter how bad he'd caused damage. Maybe they can even go back to how it used to be-- but he doesn't want that. He wants more, with you.

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toothfa-1-ry · 1 year

Text

NCT DREAM AS ODDLY SPECIFIC (ISH) TROPES/AUS EXCEPT ITS ALL ANGSTY (OT7)

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, cheating(?) in Haechan's part, reader wears dresses, reader is mentioned as prom Queen I'm Haechan's part), mentions of God in Jisung's part

GENRE: Angst, gn reader

A/N: I'm sorry for being so inactive and not posting so much (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ also I'm still new to writing for Chenle and Jisung so it might not be accurate??

Also please reblog or comment something if you enjoyed!!

✧\(> ⋋✿ • ° • ✿⋌ <)ﾉ✧

"you were my first love, I wish you were my last too" - Mark Lee

First love, idol au, idol x non idol

Mark Lee was the first boy you ever loved. The first boy you fell inlove with, the first person who you could see a future with. He was who you wished to have a future with. He was going to be the one, he will be the one.

That's what you always told yourself, that if he loved you and you loved him it was enough, all the things you wanted didn't matter if the both of you were together. Maybe if you had continued telling that to yourself things would have worked out.

Now, you stare at him through the TV screen remembering the time once when you could look at him up close. You watch him sing and dance and do all the things he loved. All the things he couldn't do with you but now that you were gone from his life he could do it all, he could live his life, he could actually be happy.

You watched all his live concerts hoping for him to catch you in the crowds atleast once, one small glance, one small glimpse of resemblance but this wasn't a movie where the girl gets the guy she always wanted, this wasn't a fairy tale dream you would get to live. He never saw you ever once, he never saw you no matter how many concerts you would go, or maybe he didn't want to see you, maybe he did glance over your face, maybe he did catch a glimpse. But that's all he did, that's all it was. A glimpse.

They say that first love's never last but you and Mark promised to be there together till the end "forever and always y/n. I'll always love you. Until forever ends, I promise" you remember smiling upon those words but now those words brought nothing but pain to your heart because Mark was your first love and that's what he'll always be, what he'll only be. Because first love's never last, and you and Mark weren't an exception.

"You exist now, only in my memories, forever in my memories." - Huang Renjun

Love at first sight, painter au, painter x muse

Renjun remembers the day he met you clearly. Even though it's just bits, there are some parts that he remembers clearly. He remembers the rain, he remembers the wet road and he remembers you stepping into the rain like a painting, your hair down, your red dress getting all wet, but it was your eyes that Renjun remembers the most clearly. Those star like eyes that made Renjun fall inlove with you that moment, those eyes which saw all parts of Renjun that no one had, those eyes which Renjun had painted so many times. He remembers wishing to never forget them, those eyes, that face.

But now, in the middle of the night, when he's all alone, when he can't sleep. He wishes to forget those eyes, he wishes to forget that face of yours. He wished he could forget the way you looked at him that day with fear all over your eyes. Renjun remembers the day he lost you. He remembers the rain, the wet road where you were standing in the middle, getting all wet but he remembers your eyes the most. The way it widened when the car came out of no where, the way you couldn't even scream for help, the way you looked so helpless.

But most of all he remembered himself, standing on the other side of the road all frozen, he remembers himself not even being able to breath or walk a inch towards your unmoving body which bled in the middle of the road. He remembers the way his heart cracked, the way it cracked and shattered into a million pieces unable to be fixed again.

He remembers the day he got you and the day he lost you. And he wishes he could forget them both.

"your always ones arms reach away from me yet I want your touch even more relentlessly" - Lee Jeno

Forbidden love, royalty au, knight x princess

Knight Jeno stares at you in a way which couldnt be explained. He looks at you in such a melancholy way yet there was shock painted in those sad eyes. He stares at you as you lock eyes with your husband, the future king of the neighbouring kingdom. The smile you give your husband being reminiscent to the smile you always gave Jeno but it didn't quite reaching your eyes. Your heart quite not beating for your now husband the way it beat for Jeno.

Jeno stands along with the screaming crowd as your carriage slows down for the new couple to greet the excited crowd. The crowd screams as the carriage stops, children, women and men all throwing flower petals and congratulating the couple as Jeno's stomach tightened and breath shortened. The white bouquet of roses in his hand being mushed by the grasp of his hands.

You both make eye contact for a second or two but it was all Jeno needed to know that you did remember what happened yesterday night and all the nights before. That you remembered the stolen kisses, the lingering touches. That you remembered him begging you to stay with him, to run away with him and you saying sorry again and again. You look away first and quickly but Jeno's gaze just remains at you unmoving.

He slowly walks up towards the carriage, raises his arms and throws the half dead roses at you which you catch and cradle in your arms as if it was gold. The both of you share one last look that day just like all the last kisses and touches the both of you once had shared. One last look was all Jeno needed to know that you did love him and that your heart belonged to him only but it was also all Jeno needed to know that you'll never belong with him, that your one arms reach away from him, always away from his reach and that there was nothing he could ever do to change that.

"I'm still waiting for our last dance" -Lee Haechan

Prom nigh au, lovers to exes

Being prom Queen would have been rather fun if Haechan was prom king, instead your stuck with his friend Na Jaemin who was next with you, holding your hands as the both of you glide across the cleaned gym floor which was now adorned with blue spotlights on the both of you.

The metallic crown covered in plastic gems and beads placed in your perfectly done hair and your dress twirling as Jaemin spun you around, the same dress you and Haechan picked together months before preparations for prom even began, months before the both of you broke up.

You couldn't help but wonder if Haechan would realise that it was the dress he picked, or if he'd realise that the hairstyle you wore tonight was the hairstyle he always complimented, or if he would even be looking at you slow dance with Jaemin. But you hoped that atleast he would know that a small part of you still remained with him, that a small part of you still yearned for him even after all the fights, bitter words and after the breakup. Your eyes scan the crowd searching for Haechan, every movement you took was just a chance to take a glimpse at the crowd to see where Haechan was. You finally see him, behind crowds and crowds of people but he easily stands out, his eyes being the same soft brown eyes you adored.

Your eyes meet Haechan's soft combed hair, his body adorning a neatly ironed tux, the same one you picked out months before the prom, before the breakup. The same tux you chose for him with the small rose print in the left breast pocket. A part of you wonders if Haechan feels the same way you do, if he thinks about you at night, if he wishes to change things, if he still loves you after the breakup. You heart however is torn into pieces as you watch Haechan bend down to kiss another girl, holding her hand tightly into his, his sole attention placed only on her.

For the last time you wonder if he remembers the last dance he promised you on prom night, probably not, probably for the best.

"my mind might forget your face, my skin might forget your touch, but my heart would never forget the way you made it feel" -Na Jaemin

Lovers to strangers, amnesia au

Jaemin looks at you from a distance, the empty feeling inside of him growing even more as the seconds go on. He looks at you as you hold hands with you parents, smiling, laughing. Your parents never liked Jaemin, they never liked the idea of the both of you together.

Jaemin remembers the first time he met you in the hospital, the way you refused to look him in the eye, the way you refused to acknowledge his presence. He remembers the way you apolagised for not remembering him, your heart no longer beating for his. Not anymore, not even recognising it.

Jaemin looks at the way your eyes shine now, as your mouth curves up into a smile, so radiant, so beautiful. It reminded Jaemin of the ways he used to make you smile, the sweet laughter of yours which played after all his corny jokes. All now which you had forgotten. Your eyes which always crinkled and brightened whenever you saw Jaemin now looked at him only in confusion, your sweet soft lips which used to kiss him in the death of night now no longer recognised his pink lips. Your heart which once danced along to the beat of Jaemin's heart could now no longer find the rythm which you both shared. All the golden memories now turned into dust as you fail to recognise the face that you so loved, as you fail to recognise the heart which you so loved.

You looked so happy even without the memories of Jaemin, without all the memories you spend with Jaemin, who was Jaemin to take away your happiness? If after all your happiness was all Jaemin lived for, all Jaemin was willing to live for even if it meant that he'll have to let you go.

Even if it meant that he'll have to let go the person he loved, the only person he'd ever love even though you don't even remember him.

"a plane ticket away from you but my heart will always have you as it's destination" - Zhong Chenle

Rich boy x poor girl, difference in social status,

Staring at the plane ticket in your hands, you wonder if things were really going to end this way, if it really was going to be as easy as this. Your fingers glide on the piece of paper bought by Chenle's mother, the smooth piece of paper which was going to divide you and Chenle for good. That piece of paper which was going to separate you and Chenle countries apart. You couldn't help but wonder if it was really all going to be worth it.

You look outside the small airplane window as you hear a femal voice speak, a small teardrop rolling down your tears as you clasp the plane ticket in your hand, slightly tearing it.

You had no choice but to leave, you had to leave. Not only for your sake or your families sake but for Chenle's sake, for the boy you loved. After all the boy you loved was the heir to the Zhong company and you were a just a simple girl whose family was struggling to find a ends meet. Things would have never worked out anyway. You were stupid for thinking that things could have worked out, it was all just a silly Teenage dream like how Chenle's mother had phrased it.

You think about Chenle, he's all you can think about in this moment. You think about whether he'll be hurt, whether he'll understand why you left, whether he'll understand why you took the money. A part of you hopes that he will, that he'll search for you and forgive you but a part of you also hopes to never see him again, that he'll get angry at you, curse your name. That he'll never forgive you for the horrible thing your doing and that he'll forget your existance. You'd rather have him angry at you then ruin his future, his life by involving you in it. You loved him too much to let him to that to himself.

The airplane gets ready to take off, you squirm slightly in your seat as you wipe away your tears. You close the window, your afraid that if you don't you'll just end up crying even more so you close your eyes shut not seeing the figure of a boy running towards the airplane. You don't hear the boys loud screams and shouting of your name, you don't hear him begging you to stay. You don't hear his cries as the airplane finally takes off and as his bodyguards are holding him back.

You don't hear his heart breaking because you were to busy hearing yours break.

"to all the sweet laughter under the sun we shared without worry of the days to come" -Park Jisung

Terminal illness au, highschool au,

Jisung holds your hand tightly, his warm healthy hand contrasting from your cold frail ones. His soft eyes look at your cold tired ones as he watches you shoot a tired smile at him. Jisung forces a smile back, trying to fight the ever-growing lump in his throat, the water in his eyes pooling whenever he sees you lying down in your bed. Jisung fights back the horrible thoughts in his heads, the words he heard the doctor say to your parents a few minutes ago ringing again and again in his head

Your the strongest person Jisung knew, the most stubborn. He knew that you were going to be okay, that your going to be fine. He knew that your going to stay in the hospital only for a few more days before you fully recover and the both of you can go back to complaining about algebra class and making fun of Mark. He knew that the tubes sticking out of your body, the injections you take everyday was just going to be a phase. That you'll be able to go outside and walk around freely without being stuck in a wheelchair. Jisung believed in miracles, he believed in you after all you were a angel in disguise for Jisung. You were his blessing

But angels come from heaven, you belong to heaven too. Jisung watches as you close your eyes his heart hammering, he watches as you breath slows down, as your grip becomes weaker. Jisung's eyes widen, his body begins panicking as your machine begins beeping, he screams for help.

He prays and prays, it's too short he says. Your time in earth is too short, your time with him is far too short. You can't leave him yet your both only kids, you both have the rest of your lives to live. You still have a life to live with Jisung. You still have to keep your promise to Jisung, to build a house together, own a pet cat. He continues praying as the doctors take you away for a emergency surgery, using up all his breath, his words. Begging that of there really was a god out there, to save you. To save the person he loved, to perform a miracle.

But if there really was a god out there, a creator of life and the bringer of death. They must have been cruel to Jisung because now your heart which once beat, your heart which Jisung adored now remained cold and unmoving. The minute your heart stopped was when Jisung's heart also froze. After all he lost his miracle, his only blessing.

He lost you, his highschool love and only love

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forsungie · 1 year

Text

GETAWAY CAR

pairings. park jisung x female reader x ex-boyfriend jaemin

genre. mature content, angst | requested!

content. fast paced, implied cheating (sa exam!), best friend haechan, very short car sex part

playlist. migraine by moonstar88, kisapmata by rivermaya, beer by itchyworms, hayaan by cup of joe, rebound by silent sanctuary, getaway car by taylor swift, sana by i belong to the zoo

author’s note. not proofread, pag pasensyahan niyo na if may typos and grammatical errors dahil tinamad na ko :') enjoy reading and feel free to send me feedbacks! 🩷

“badtrip, monday na monday nagpasurprise long quiz prof namin,” rant sayo ni haechan habang kumakain ng inorder nitong tapsilog.

nasa katabing cafeteria ng campus niyo kayo ngayon ng kaibigan mo dahil kakatapos lang ng klase mo at sakto namang nag aya si haechan kumain sa labas ng campus dahil free cut naman daw niya. ayaw daw niyang kumain sa canteen ng university niyo dahil bukod sa hindi na masarap ay mahal pa. wala ka ng next class, pero napag usapan niyo ni jisung na kakain kayo sa labas bilang bayad niya sayo sa pagtulong mo sa kaniya mag review last week kaya hindi ka pa umuuwi.

“hulaan mo kung nakailan ako,” natatawa pa nitong sabi sayo.

“half?” hula mo naman.

umiling si haechan, “twenty two over fifty.”

“gago kasi ni jeno, nag usap kaming mag kokopyahan kami tapos nung magsasagot na tinakpan papel niya, tarantado,” dagdag nito, napapailing pa.

“speaking of the devil, ayan oh,” turo mo sa parating na si jeno.

tumayo naman si haechan para hampasin ito, “pakyu, boi, taksil ka.”

“nakailan ka, jen?” baling mo sa isa.

“thirty nine over fifty,” nakangisi nitong sagot sayo, “nakikinig kasi ako, hindi kagaya ng iba dyan,” parinig nito kay haechan.

“madapa ka sana,” bulong ni haechan.

“uy, gago, nakalimutan ko tuloy yung sasabihin ko,” kalabit nito kay haechan, “nagpunta ko dito para sunduin ka, nasa room na si sir!”

“akala ko ba free cut?!”

“hindi daw! tara na,” hinila ni jeno si haechan palabas ng cafeteria, “una na kami, y/n!”

napailing ka na lang sa kagaguhan ng dalawa at saka akmang aalis na rin sana ng cafeteria nang tumunog ang cellphone mo. it was jisung who texted, tinatanong kung tapos na ang klase mo. imbis na mag reply ay pinindot mo na lang ang call button.

“hi,” halata sa tono ng boses ng binata na nakangiti ito sa likod ng telepono.

“nandito ako sa cafeteria sa tabi ng campus, kakatapos lang ng class ko, sinamahan ko lang si hyuck kumain,” sagot mo.

“patapos na rin klase ko,” aniya, “nag paalam lang ako mag cr saglit para masagot tawag mo.”

natawa ka naman, “sorry, akala ko tapos na klase mo. sige na, bumalik ka na muna, itext mo na lang ako pagkatapos, intayin kita.”

mukhang pinaglalaruan ka ng tadhana dahil nang palabas ka na ng cafeteria ay nakasalubong mo si jaemin kasama ang mga kaibigan niyang sila yangyang. nag dalawang isip ka pa nung una kung babatiin mo ang mga ito, pero naunahan ka ni yangyang, “y/n! bakit mag isa ka? nasaan sila hyuck?” tanong nito at saka ka niyakap.

“kakaalis lang, sinundo ni jen— bigla daw dumating prof nila,” sagot mo.

tipid na ngiti at tango lamang ang ibinigay sayo ni jaemin, mukhang na a-awkwardan rin sa sitwasyon, though madalas naman kayong magkita around the campus ay awkward at mahirap pa rin para sayo. mahirap naman kasi talagang mag kunwari na parang wala lang nangyari sainyong dalawa dahil ilang taon rin yon. mahirap kalimutan yon nang ganun-ganun lang.

bigla kang nanghina pagkatapos ng interaction na yon, sa tuwing makikita mo siya pakiramdam mo bumagsak ang langit at lupa sayo. imbis na bumalik sa campus para intayin si jisung ay napag desisyunan mong umuwi na lang. you feel like crying and so you did.

“it’s okay to cry, angel, crying doesn’t mean you’re weak,” palaging paalala sayo ni jaemin noon.

naalala mo pa ay sinabi niya sayo iyon noong namatay ang alaga mong aso na siya ang nagbigay. sobrang lungkot mo that time kaya niyakap ka niya, at doon pa lang tumulo ang mga luha mong kanina mo pa pinipigilan.

“i will cry with you.”

but not anymore.

after hours of crying in your room, saka mo lang naalala si jisung. nawala na sa isip mong kailangan mo siyang imessage para sabihing nauna ka nang umuwi at mag sorry.

ji, sorry umuwi na ko, bigla kasing sumama pakiramdam ko :(

sent at 6:02pm

it took three minutes for jisung before texting back.

no, it’s okay, kumusta na pakiramdam mo? uminom ka na ba ng gamot? dalhan ba kita? you should’ve told me na masama pakiramdam mo para hindi na kita pinag intay

you’re very glad to have someone like jisung that’s why you treasure him so much. sobrang swerte mo magkaroon ng kaibigang kagaya niya sa tabi mo every time na kailangan mo siya and you’re very aware of that. hinding hindi mo gugustuhing mawala siya sayo.

i’m good na! i took a nap as soon as i got home, so medyo okay na rin ako. thank you, ji! bawi ako sayo :')

sent at 6:08pm

days has passed quickly. december na at isang linggo na lang ay christmas eve na. you and your friends decided to go to tagaytay for a three day vacation bago mag pasko since you and your friends will be spending christmas with your family and relatives.

sa kabilang banda, napag desisyunan na ni jisung na umamin sayo sa huling araw ng bakasyon niyo sa tagaytay. it took him years bago nabuo ang desisyon niya and this time he’s very sure of it. he’s willing to take the risk if it’s you.

you have no idea na alam ng mga kaibigan mo na gusto ka ni jisung, not until the confession happened. to be honest, you didn’t know what to feel. you’re happy to know that he likes you, but half of you knows na hindi ka pa fully moved on from jaemin. and haechan knows it, he’s your best friend after all.

“please lang, y/n... matalino ka, gamitin mo ang utak mo,” haechan was very frustrated because of the news, “masasaktan mo lang si jisung, magkakasakitan lang kayong dalawa,” napahilamos na lang ito ng mukha sa stress.

after months of you and jisung’s set up, naisipan mo nang ikwento ito kay haechan. nalaman nito na may nangyayari sa inyong dalawa ni jisung as friends kahit alam ni jisung na hindi ka pa nakakamove on ay pumayag ito sa set up. well... you both enjoyed each other’s company.

“haah... malapit na ko, ji...” ungol mo habang hingal na hingal sa pagbaba at taas sa ibabaw ni jisung.

nasa kotse kayo ni jisung ngayon, ihahatid ka lang sana niya pauwi sa inyo galing sa campus. hindi mo rin alam kung paano kayo nauwi sa ganitong sitwasyon. one second, you were sitting on the passenger seat and the next, you were bouncing on top of him.

“fuck, you feel so good, angel... so tight around me...” he groaned while holding your hip to help you bounce on his cock.

“matulog ka na muna at pag isipan mo yung mga sinabi ko sayo,” paalam sayo ni haechan.

you did. pinag isipan mo ang mga payo sayo ni haechan. ang totoo niyan ay alam mo naman sa sarili mong mali ang ginagawa mo, pero hindi mo alam ang gagawin. siguro nga ay dahil sa ginawa mo ng distraction si jisung para lang masabing nakamove on ka na kay jaemin.

sa dalawang linggong nakalipas ay hindi mo nireplyan ang mga messages sayo ni jisung. hindi mo alam ang gagawin kaya naisipan mong mas mabuti kung iwasan mo na lang muna si jisung habang nag iisip ka. today is jisung’s birthday at ni-bati sa text o call ay hindi mo ginawa. in fact, may birthday party na magaganap si jisung ngayong gabi at pilit kang inaaya nila jeno na pumunta.

nang dumalaw ang hating gabi ay may nangyaring hindi mo inaasahan. kumakatok lang naman si jaemin sa bahay niyo, at lasing na lasing. tawag ito nang tawag sa pangalan mo kaya ginising ka ng mama mo para pagbuksan ng pinto ang binata.

“j-jaemin... anong ginagawa mo dito?” gulat na tanong mo sa binata.

“y/n... miss na miss na kita... alam mo ba yon?” jaemin murmured, lasing na lasing na ito at hindi na makatayo nang diretso kaya inalalayan mo.

nangilid ang mga luha sa mata mo nang marinig ang mga salitang iyon galing sa bibig ni jaemin, “lasing ka lang, umuwi ka na sa inyo, jaemin.”

mapait na tumawa si jaemin, “jaemin? you used to call me ‘love’...” he whispered.

tumango ka, “yes, used to...” you whispered back.

kahinaan mo si jaemin at alam mo yon. simula nang maghiwalay kayo marinig mo lang ang ngalan niya nanghihina ka na. pakiramdam mo tuwing mababanggit si jaemin naririnig mong nababasag ang puso mo.

“hindi ako makatulog nang hindi ka iniisip... naaalala kita sa lahat ng bagay...” panimula nito, “sorry kung... sorry kung sumuko ako, nasaktan lang rin naman ako. nagkakasakitan lang tayo.”

“you were the best thing that ever happened to me and i hope you know that. alam kong wala na tayong pagasa... alam kong hindi na natin kayang buuin pa nang paulit ulit ang matagal nang nasira. sinubukan naman natin,” dagdag nito habang pilit pinipigilang umiyak sa harap ng dalaga, “nandito ako dahil gusto ko lang na marinig mula sayo. para rin makausad na tayo peraho kahit paano. kasi hindi ko kayang nakikita na nahihirapan ka nang dahil sa akin...”

nakayuko ka lang at patuloy sa paghikbi habang pinakikinggan si jaemin.

muli kang tumango, “tama na, jaemin.”

mas lalo lamang lumakas ang hikbi mo nang sabihin mo ang mga salitang yon. biglang nag flashback sa utak mo yung limang taon na kasama mo siya.

“pwede ba kitang yakapin? kahit sa huling pagkakataon.” tanong ng binata.

imbis na sumagot ay tumakbo ka palapit kay jaemin at saka ito niyakap nang mahigpit. agad ka namang niyakap pabalik ni jaemin. mas lalo kang nanghina nang marinig itong umiyak sa balikat mo. naging triple ang sakit na nararamdaman mo... dahil ang unang beses na umiyak si jaemin sayo ay noong sinagot mo siya. ibang iba ang dahilan ng pagtangis niya ngayon. damang dama mo ang sakit sa hikbi ng binata.

habang si jisung, ibang ideya ang nakuha. nakaupo ito sa loob ng sasakyan niya sa malayo habang pinapanood kayong dalawa. simula pa lang naman ng laban alam na ni jisung na si jaemin pa rin.

dahil si jaemin naman talaga. it was him even from the very start at wala siyang laban.

habang pinapanood kayo ni jisung, ang hindi niya alam ay may nanonood rin sa kaniyang umiyak.

haechan is crying with him.

click here for bonus part!

#park jisung fic #nct dream fic #park jisung imagine #nct dream imagine #park jisung angst #nct dream angst #park jisung smut #nct dream smut #na jaemin fic #na jaemin angst #na jaemin imagine

90 notes · View notes

kireijae · 1 year

Text

n.jm 23:25

summary: in which you're literally me and this is how i feel but i write a fanfic so jaemin can fix it:)

genre: angst, fluff, f2l, happy ending

a/n: hello surprise!!!! i JUST wrote this in like 30 minutes so please be kind! it was very healing i think mkay bye let me know if you enjoyed it!

—

jaemin was taken out of his scheduled (midnight) daydreaming by the chime of his phone. normally he wouldn't bother to answer, or even check the notification, but he glanced over.

he saw your name and unlocked his phone immediately.

jaemin enjoyed the fact that he knew you so well. he knew how you texted and what it meant. he knew your favourite restaurants and your favourite orders at each of them. he knew you better than you knew yourself. he knew you the way you knew him.

and so, he knew you'd been taking strain with your flatmate getting a boyfriend. it was a strange, new feeling to you. you were so happy for her. jimin deserved the world and had finally, finally found someone willing to give it to her. but, when would it be your turn? you'd longed for love for so long. you'd worked on yourself and felt truly ready for a partner to share your life with.

jaemin was not, in fact, out the door. not yet, anyway. he tugged on his shoes and a hoodie first– and grabbed one for you. he didn't like you driving when you were sad. you listened to sad songs and cried while driving, not the best for the whole being-able-to-see part of driving.

your apartment was only 10 minutes from jaemin's and those 10 minutes were spent on the phone with you.

"should i gather snacks?"

"yes. duh? of course, it's us," he answered, eyes locked on the road.

"oh my– we have ben and jerry's!" you squealed, and he could hear your little happy jumps.

jaemin smiled, "what flavour?"

"cookie dough!"

"fuck yes," he cheered.

"oh yeah, do you guys ha–"

"do you need coffee–"

said at the same time.

"that's what i was going to ask for," jaemin said, elated at your likemindedness.

"i know you," you beamed, and he could hear a smug tone in your voice.

you'd long ago accepted your connection with jaemin as fact. something not to be questioned or even surprised at anymore. your friendship ran deep, it was to be expected really.

but, selfishly, jaemin wanted more. he wanted to give you everything you wanted. he wanted to hold you in sorrow and in pleasure. he wanted to tease you like he does now, but be able to make up for it with a kiss and an 'i love you' that means something different than it does now. but he never said anything. he didn't want you to lose your closest companion.he didn't want to be that guy. you would never see him the same, he would never again be the person you needed.

"i'm outside."

"okay, on my way down."

you came out of the building soon enough, an overnight bag over your shoulder. and a shirt nowhere near adequate enough for the cold outside. jaemin scoffed and grabbed the spare hoodie. he jogged over to meet you at the door, taking your bag and plopping the hoodie over your form simply. he left the sleeves at your sides, leaving you in the fabric with your arms at your sides.

you pulled a face at his quick work, but shoved your arms into the sleeves anyway.

"i know you," he quoted cheekily and walked over to his car.

you childishly blew a raspberry at him, standing like a child in oversized hand-me-down clothes.

you got in the passenger seat and he drove you back to his place. you were crying by the end of the trip, taylor swift once again being the artist you chose to play in the car drive over.

you were laughing now though, with tear stained cheeks standing in the entryway to jaemin's apartment.

"this is ridiculous," you announced through your giggles.

"what is?" he asked, leading you to his room and putting your bag down on a chair.

"me. this situation," you said, "i just made myself cry to songs i can't even relate to. i'm a mess."

"a wonderful mess," jaemin corrects quickly.

"but a mess nonetheless," you countered.

"you need to stop listening to taylor swift," he said, "you're rhyming."

"you're right," you chuckle, settling onto the bed where jaemin had just situated himself. "i'm just so lonely."

jaemin could feel your need to talk, so he waited.

"do you think i deserve love?" you asked, eyes shining still.

he was baffled, "of course you do."

"i mean– do you think i might just be one of those people who never find a partner but are still happy and content with life alone?" you asked, "because i'm waiting for either of those scenarios but neither has happened and i'm starting to think neither will."

"i think the right person is out there," he said, he would tell you to wait, be patient, but he knows it won't help. especially when he knew he could end your wondering and pain right then, if you felt the same.

"i hope so," you wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

"you'll find your soulmate," he added, putting his arm around you, "you still believe in those, right?" he recalled a conversation over the phone about how your belief in the theory was dwindling.

"i do," you said, leaning into his chest, "i decided i have to or i'll go crazy. but, i'll stop believing if you don't find your soulmate."

he frowned and shook his head lightly in surprise. "what? why?"

"you're too great to not have someone out there waiting for you," you said simply, eyes wondering around the room you've been in hundreds of times.

jaemin felt his soul ache a bit more at that. the fact that you had no clue how close you were to someone who would give you anything you asked for at the drop of a hat. "i think someone's out there dying to love you the way you need."

you huffed, "and i'm dying to find them."

the boy's heart started beating faster than ever. he had the courage– or the momentary lapse in judgement– to do it.

"y/n," his voice didn't waver the way he thought it would.

"hmm?" you craned your neck to look up at him for the first time that night.

"i've been dying to do something for a while now," he confessed.

"what is it?" your face flickered with what in hindsight can be recognised as hope.

"can i kiss you?"

tears fell again, "please."

#jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #jaemin imagines #na jaemin imagines #jaemin timestamps #na jaemin timestamps #jaemin fluff #na jaemin fluff #jaemin x you #jaemin angst #na jaemin x you #na jaemin angst #jaemin scenarios #jaemin drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream texts

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ligayangdala · 2 years

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📂 KUYA’S BFF EP 10 : HABANG BUHAY | MASTERLIST

📣 JAEMIN NA. angst, kuya’s bestfriend!au, childhood friend!au

✍ written in taglish | ⚠ profanities | 📅 posted on july 26th, 2022

🎧 LISTEN: sa ngalan ng pag-ibig by december avenue | muli by ace banzuelo

NAKASIMANGOT KANG BUMABA NG KOTSE, HAWAK HAWAK ANG STUFFED TOY MONG RABBIT.

5 years old ka palang nung nakilala mo si jaemin, ang kapitbahay niyo sa bagong lugar na nilipatan niyo dahil nakaluwag-luwag ang mga magulang niyo. ang isang kamay mo ay nakapulupot sa braso ng kuya mo para hindi ka mawalay sakanila habang nagbababa ng gamit ang mga magulang niyo. sa hindi kalayuan, may isang batang naglalaro sa hardin nila. napansin nito na bagong lipat kayo, kaya naman agad siyang pumasok sa bahay nila at tinawag ang ina. ang nanay naman niya ay dali-daling lumabas at may bitbit na pagkain— isang welcome gift para sa inyong apat. ikaw ang unang lumapit sa batang lalaki, napansin mo kasing nakatitig siya sa stuffed toy mo kaya lumapit ka sakanya.

“hello” bati mo sakanya, “gusto mo bang hiramin si bunbun?” tumitig sa’yo ito at nilipat ang titig niya sa ina. “ako po si y/n, this is my kuya! kuya jeno,” bata palang kayo at ikaw na talaga ang pinakamadaldal kung ikukumpara ka sa kuya mo, kaya mabilis kayong naging magkaibigan ni jaemin. tuwing alas tres ng hapon, gigising ka galing sa siesta at magpapaalam sa magulang mo na lalabas ka para makipaglaro kay jaemin. kahit mahiyain ang kuya mo, wala naman siyang magawa at sinasamahan ka. you remember the day you claimed jaemin as one of your protectors aside from your dad and your kuya. you have an inseparable bond growing up.

these three small kids have no idea what kind of life they would have when they go to college. at that time, all they ever found exciting was playing in the front yard, sharing toys and laughing at each other.

there was this one specific guy that you liked, kaklase mo siya nung high school. although ilang beses kang nag-confess sa kanya at ilang beses ka niyang nirereject, wala kang paki. tuloy ka lang sa pagpapadala ng mga sweet letters and chocolates kapag may important event ang crush mo. napapansin ito ni jaemin at palagi ka niyang inaasar na isa kang hopeless romantic— tama naman siya, wala rin namang masama kung hopeless romantic ka di ‘ba? at least naeexpress mo ang sarili mo confidently. naalala mong umuwi ka kasabay si jaemin, habang naglalakad, kinikilig ka dahil sabi mo sakanya “sa wakas, kami na ng crush ko!�� dahil umamin na sa’yo pabalik ang gusto mong lalaki.

masaya naman si jaemin para sa'yo, not until he discovered na pinaglalaruan ka lang nung lalaki. as your childhood friend and protector, hindi niya sinabi sa'yo ang narinig niya personally. nalaman mo lang ang totoo nung nakipagsapakan si jaemin at nauwi sa guidance. naalala mo kung paano ka pinagalitan ng parents mo dahil nadamay pa nga si jaemin, iyak ka ng iyak non kasi grounded ka for a month, bahay-school ka lang talaga. dahil grounded ka, halos araw-araw kang sinasabayan ni jaemin umuwi ng bahay at minsan bibili na siya ng pagkain beforehand para may makain kayo habang naglalakad pauwi.

you lost contact with him when he and your kuya entered college, tatlong oras ang layo ng bahay niyo sa university kaya naman nagdorm na sila at naiwan kang mag-isa sa lugar niyo. because of that, naging awkward ka na rin around jaemin dahil in the span of one year sa college, nag-iba talaga siya. you knew you liked him simula nung pinagtanggol ka niya sa 'ex' mo, pero you saw him in a different light nung lumipat ka sa condo ng kuya mo.

you spent your whole life with jaemin by your side kaya naman alam mong hindi sapat ang anim na buwan sa europa para mag move on. it'll probably take a few years hanggang sa maka-move on ka.

nagising si jaemin dahil naririnig niyang nagsasalita ang nanay niya sa labas ng kwarto niya sa condo, mamayang hapon pa naman ang graduation rites nila at ang aga-aga pa para magising pero dahil sa hirit ng nanay niya, nagising siya bigla. paglabas niya ay nakita niya na may kausap pala ito sa telepono at katabi ang ama niya, napansin siya ng nanay niya kaya naman tinawag siya nito. “hay nako, buti nga nakatapos ng saktong limang taon! jaemin anak, say hi to your tita oh” sabi ng ina, naglakad naman ito palapit sa magulang niya kahit medyo antok pa.

“hi tita, hi tito” bati ni jaemin

“jusko, ke-poging bata! may girlfriend ka na ba?”

showbiz na showbiz tita ah, isip nito. “wala po tita, single po”

“hay nako, paanong hindi magiging single… brokenhearted ‘yan! magaapat na buwan na umiiyak ‘yan sakin gabi gabi, miss na miss na daw niya si y/n—”

“ma naman!” angal ni jaemin, “okay lang naman na single ako tita, maghahanap muna ‘ko ng trabaho, aasikasuhin ‘yung licensure pati hahanapin ko na rin sarili ko”

“eto na nga anak, dahil nabanggit ng mama mo ‘yang brokenhearted ka, namimiss ka na ng pinsan mo dito! bisitahin mo kami dito, kami ng tito mo magsasagot ng plane tickets mo as a graduation gift tutal gagraduate kang magna cum laude! deserve mong magbakasyon, iho. teka teka, si adi!” natutuwang anunsya nito, napangiti naman ang asawa ng tita niya sa gilid. nakita ni jaemin na sumingit ang 10 year old niyang pinsan sa frame kaya napangiti siya, “that’s kuya jaejae oh! tell him you want him to visit you here in paris!”

“kuya jaejae! i miss you na, you told me the last time we were there na you were going to visit us here and play with me!” paalala ng pinsan niyang si adi, “please kuya? we can visit the eiffel tower and musee du louvre!”

ngumiti si jaemin sa pinsan niya, “okay adi, kuya will visit you there. pero promise kuya na you will sleep na? it’s late na.”

“i will if you promise me that you will stay here in paris with us for a while!”

“i promise adi”

natapos ang tawag nilang pamilya, imbis na bumalik sa pagtulog si jaemin ay lumabas siya ng bahay para magjogging, pag isipang mabuti ang offer ng tiyahin niya na magstay sa paris kung saan sila nakatira, magandang offer naman ‘yun pero malaking gastusin rin. at the same time, sumagi ka sa isip ni jaemin. alam niyang nasa europa ka pero hindi niya alam kung anong bansa ka nagiinternship. apat na buwan na rin simula nung umalis ka, wala siyang ka-alam alam kung kumusta ka na o kung anong ginagawa mo. nawalan na rin kasi siya ng access sa mga social media accounts mo, blinock mo ito nung nabugbog siya ng kuya mo.

napatigil siya sa harap ng ilog sa loob ng parkeng tinatakbuhan niya, paboritong paborito mong puntahan ang lugar na ito dahil tahimik at payapa. minsan nga ay dito kayo nag-uusap ni jaemin na inaabot kayo hanggang madaling araw. kumusta ka na, y/n? isip niya habang pinapanood ang tubig sa ilog. parang tanga, jaemin. kalimutan mo na si y/n, sabi niya sa sarili, nagulat naman ito dahil nakasabay niya si jeno sa parke habang naglalakad.

“pre” bati ni jeno sa kanya, bumati naman siya pabalik. “ano… gusto ko lang sana humingi ng tawad sa nangyari nung mga nakaraang buwan—”

“okay lang ‘yun, tol. alam ko kung saan galing ‘yung galit mo” sabi ni jaemin, “actually, ako rin gusto kong humingi ng tawad, sa nangyari samin ni y/n… ‘yung set up namin tapos… alam mo na.” nahihiyang sabi ni jaemin, hindi niya kayang sabihin ng malakas ang mga nangyari kaya naman napakamot ulo nalang siya. “k-kumusta si y/n?”

tumingin sa kanya si jeno at ngumiti, “mukhang masaya naman siya sa europe, pero hindi ko alam kung totoo ba ‘yung saya niya. minsan kasi tumatawag siya sakin tuwing madaling araw ‘dun, umiiyak…” sagot nito, “apat buwan palang siya dun pero parang gusto na ata niyang umuwi na ayaw niya, siguro hanggang ngayon naga-adjust pa rin siya ‘dun.”

nagkwentuhan sila habang pauwi, just like the old times in high school— ang pinagkaiba lang ay wala ka sa tabi nilang dalawa. naghiwalay lang sila dahil malapit na ang nakatakdang oras para sa graduation rites kaya naman umuwi na sila pareho para maghanda. hindi maiwasan ni jaemin na hindi malungkot ngayong graduation nila, masaya naman siya dahil naitaguyod niya ang architecture ng limang taon at natapos siya on time. it would’ve been nice to have you next to me, baby. isip ni jaemin habang kinukuhaan sila ng picture ni jeno ng mga magulang niyo na may hawak na diploma.

isang buwan matapos ang graduation, nakalapag na ng france si jaemin. napakahaba ng flight niya, pero nagawa pa niyang pumasyal dahil sa kagustuhan ni adi.

“kuya jaejae! i can take your picture!” sabi ni adi sa pinsan niya dahil nakita itong pinipicturan ang eiffel tower, “give me your phone— wait, let’s use my ipad nalang!” ngumiti si jaemin dahil sa excitement ng bata, kahit kailan talaga ay siya na ang paboritong pinsan nito kaya tinuturi niya rin itong kapatid dahil pareho silang only child. “kuya jaejae, smile ikaw!” natatakpan ng buong ipad ang mukha ng bata kaya naman ngumiti si jaemin lalo, naririnig niya ang tuloy tuloy nitong pagshutter kahit lumalapit na siya kay adi para tignan ang mga litrato.

“adi, patingin si kuya ng pictures mo” sabi ni jaemin at lumuhod sa tabi nito, agad namang pinindot ni adi ang gallery sa gilid at lumabas ang mga litrato niya. kahit na ba tanghaling tapat sa paris, napakaraming tao ang bumibisita sa eiffel tower, halos puno ng tao ang background ni jaemin pero may isang nakakuha ng atensyon niya. isang babaeng nakatayo sa likod, may hawak na telepono. “adi, can kuya hold your ipad so i can check the others?” tumango naman si adi at inabot ang ipad bago tumakbo sa magulang niya, nilipat ni jaemin ang pictures, halos lahat ay kitang kita ang babae— kitang kita ka. tumayo si jaemin at inabot ang ipad sa pinsan, “tita, pwede po bang kitain ko nalang kayo sa bahay? may titignan lang po ako”

“ha? osiya sige, saulo mo naman na pauwi sa bahay namin di ‘ba? tumawag ka sakin kapag kailangan mo ng assistance para masundo ka ng tito mo”

“opo tita” sagot ni jaemin, humalik si jaemin sa noo ni adi at sinabing “adi, can you send kuya those pictures? like right now?” nagmamadaling binuksan ni jaemin ang airdrop niya kaya naman mabilis ring natransfer ni adi ang mga pictures, “thanks bunso, i’ll see you later”

naglakad na palayo si jaemin, nakabukas ang isang litrato na kuhang kuha ang buong katawan mo. lahat ng nakakasalubong niya, tinitignan niya ang suot na damit at bumabalik ang tingin niya sa cellphone para idouble check. malayo na sa tore at ilang minuto na ang lumipas, sa wakas, nakita na ni jaemin ang hinahabol niya. at tama nga ang hinala niya, ikaw nga ito. sa hindi kalayuan, nakatayo si jaemin habang pinapanood ka niyang mamili ng prutas kasama ang isang babae na inaassume niyang kaibigan mo. limang buwan— limang buwan ka niyang hindi nakita at ang laki ng pinagbago mo, sa buhok, sa pananamit, sa kilos. lalo kang gumanda sa paningin niya.

gustong tumakbo ni jaemin papunta sa’yo, gustong gusto ka niyang ikulong sa mga braso niya, gustong gusto niyang halikan ka sa labi at sabihin kung gaano ka niya kamahal at kung gaano ka niya namiss. jaemin was frozen on the spot when he saw a guy walk towards you and planted a kiss on your cheek. nahulog ang puso ni jaemin habang pinapanood ang nangyayari, tumatawa ka at nakapulupot ang braso mo sa bisig ng lalaking humalik sa’yo.

mukhang masaya ka naman sa buhay mo, at ayaw ni jaemin maging hadlang sa pagiging masaya mo. ayaw niyang maging rason siya kung bakit masisira ulit ang mga bagay na binuo mo sa mga nakaraang buwan. masaya ka, ‘yun ang importante. pakiramdam niyang talo na siya kaya naman umikot siya at naglakad palayo sa’yo.

“y/n, kilala mo ba ‘yun? may lalaki kasing nakatitig sa’yo kanina tapos ang gwapo!” tili ng kaibigan mong si lea, “siguro kung ‘di ka nakahawak dito kay mark, siguradong sigurado ko lalapitan ka nun!”

lumingon ka naman sa paligid mo, “wala namang nakatingin sakin?”

“kanina nga kasi ‘teh,” tawa ng kaibigan mo, “eto kasing si mark, kung maka-gatekeep, kala mo naman talaga”

“hey, don’t be like that, lea! i’m just looking after y/n here no, besides, i can wait for her naman. i know she’s not yet ready”

“sus, parang lalanggamin pa ata ako dito. asan na ba ‘yung boyfriend kong si sungchan? punyeta kanina pa ‘ko iniiwan nung bwisit na ‘yun!” reklamo ni lea, “oo talagang dinidiin ko ‘yung boyfriend dahil wala naman kayong label pero mas sweet pa kayo kesa samin ng boyfriend ko”

naglakad palayo si lea sainyong dalawa at pumasok sa loob ng cafe dahil andun pala ang nobyo niya, patuloy ka lang sa pagpili ng mga prutas na iuuwi mo sa apartment na nirerentahan mo habang si mark naman ay nasa tabi mo lang. “just so you know, what i said is true, y/n” sabi nito, napalingon ka naman sa kanya. “i really am willing to wait for you, no pressure though. i know what you’ve been through and… god it makes me want to love you more because you didn’t deserve what happened.”

“i know mark, but kailangan mo ring malaman na hindi pa talaga ako ready ah” sabi mo, “it’ll take me a while bago ko ibigay ang sarili ko sa’yo ng buo. ayokong pumasok sa relationship na ganito pa ‘yung estado ko dahil gusto kong pumasok sa relationship na buo na ‘ko, na mahal ko na ‘yung sarili ko bago ako magmahal ng ibang tao.”

nginitian ka ni mark at kinuha nito ang kamay mo, nilapit niya ito sa labi niya at hinalikan ng dahan dahan. “whenever you’re ready, mon cheri”

“thank you, mark”

naramdaman ni jaemin ang pagbagsak niya sa kama dahil gumulong siya mula kabilang dulo para lang patayin ang alarm clock niya. nasobrahan ata siya sa alak kagabi at nakatulog na ng nakapantalon. pag tingin niya sa orasan ng cellphone, nanlaki ang mga mata niya. “putangina, late na ‘ko!” sigaw niya, agad siyang pumunta sa cabinet niya at naghablot ng panibagong t-shirt. sa dami-daming pwedeng araw na uminom siya, bakit kasi sa araw bago ang malaking presentation niya sa kliyente?

mabuti nalang at pwedeng lakarin ang opisina niya sa condo niya kaya naman mabilis siyang nakarating. wala pa rin ang mga kliyente dun at naabutan pa niya ang katrabahong si chenle na nagkakape sa pantry kaya pumasok siya ‘dun para magtimpla rin ng kape.

“naligo ka ba?” tanong nito, “tangina, amoy alak ka!”

“hindi pa ‘ko naliligo, balak ko sana sa gym nalang maligo eh” sagot ni jaemin, “anong oras ba pupunta ‘yung clients? puta, nalate ako ng gising kaya dumiretso na ‘ko dito!”

“na-move ‘yung meeting mamayang 11, galing pa daw kasing ibang bansa ‘yung ibang kasama kaya matatagalan.” sabi ni chenle, “tangina mamaya ka na magkape, tara na sa gym, sasamahan kita maligo. ‘wag mong sabihin sakin na ‘yan rin ang isusuot mo pag nag-meeting kasama ‘yung mga clients?”

“anong masama sa suot ko?” simpleng puting t-shirt, denim jeans at sneakers— hindi masyadong pormal.

tumawa si chenle, “tara na, papahiramin kita ng damit na ugok ka. mapapagalitan tayo ni bossing nyan kung magpipitch tayo mamaya na ganyan suot mo tapos amoy alak ka pang bwisit ka” binaba ni chenle ang baso niya ng kape pati na rin ang kay jaemin at iniwan ito sa pantry. “pasalamat ka savior talaga ko, ano nalang gagawin mo kung wala ‘ko?”

“tangina mo, salamat” ngiti ni jaemin habang pinapanood si chenle na kuhain ang extrang damit sa loob ng locker niya sa cubicle niya. “dahil dyan, lilibre kita mamaya”

“aba dapat lang”

si chenle, isang engineer, ang work best friend ni jaemin dahil sa ibang kumpanya nagtatrabaho si jeno (na ang rason kung bakit lasing siya ngayon, kasi nga malapit na siyang ikasal kaya nagcelebrate sila ng bachelor’s party kagabi). limang taon na sila parehong nagtatrabaho dito, parehong nagumpisa sa pinakababa at tila utusan, ngayon silang dalawa ang namamayagpag sa loob ng firm nila dahil sa galing nila. ang dalawang ‘to ang paborito ng lahat dahil madalas sila ang nagdedesign ng mga malalaking building ng siyudad at itong ipipitch nila ngayong araw ay isa sa mga malalaking kumpanya ng bansa. kilala ito internationally kaya napakalaking project nito para sa firm nila.

pagkatapos magpatuyo ng buhok at magbihis ni jaemin, agad siyang lumabas dahil malapit na mag-11. nainform na rin sila na padating na ang mga clients kaya dumiretso na rin silang dalawa sa conference hall, hindi malaman laman ni chenle kung bakit kabadong kabado si jaemin. mukhang hindi naman ito nasobrahan sa kape dahil madalas ngang umiinom ito ng ilang shots ng espresso at hindi nahihilo. “tangina mo, ‘wag kang kabahan, yari tayo kay bossing kapag palpak ‘tong pitch na ‘to” bulong ni chenle kay jaemin.

lalong kumabog ang puso ni jaemin nang bumukas ang pinto at niluwa nito ang mga kliyente, nakaharap siya sa pintuan kaya kitang kita niya kung sino ang mga pumapasok sa loob. kaya pala siya kinakabahan, hindi lang simpleng kliyente ang makikita niya, kundi ikaw. nagtama ang mga mata niyo, ngumiti ka sa kanya at dumiretso sa upuan mo. nagpakilala ang lahat sa isa’t isa, at nung ikaw na nag magpapakilala, parang ibang tao ang nakikita ni jaemin sa harap niya.

“y/n is our financial officer, she’s the best in our company kaya naman sinama namin siya dito dahil siya ang magaasikaso ng budget for the construction” sabi ng CEO, “okay, shall we start?”

habang nagpipitch si jaemin, hindi siya mapakali. nakatitig ka kasi sakanya habang nakikinig, hindi tuloy niya alam ang gagawin niya. buti nalang talaga at pinilit siya ni chenle na maligo at suotin itong suit na pinahiram niya, kahit na ba puting t-shirt lang ang panloob niya, mukha siyang presentable.

“y/n, what do you think? pasok ba sa budget ng company ‘yung ganyang design? do you think na we’ll have problems sa budget?” tanong ng CEO niyo sa’yo.

ngumiti ka, “well, first off, kudos to the architect and the engineer who designed our future building. it’s very refreshing and eye pleasing. mukhang mags-stand out ang building namin sa business district,” puri mo, “i think it'll fit in our budget, mr. park. as long as they keep the architect’s word that they will use the best materials to build this building. overall, i don’t think we’ll have problems sa budget.”

natapos ang meeting pagkatapos pang magbigay ng ibang opinyon ng board members ng kumpanya niyo. pagkatapos mo ngang magsalita, hindi na nakaimik si jaemin dahil focused lang ang utak niya sa compliment na sinabi mo. ni hindi siya nakapagpaalam sa’yo nung bumaba ka ng building, pero alam niyang hindi ito ang huling beses na magkikita kayo.

“jaemin, sabi mo lilibre mo ‘ko” sabi ni chenle sakanya pagkalabas nila ng conference hall, “bili mo ‘ko black milktea”

“tangina naman neto ni chenle, nagtatrabaho ‘ko. may kape sa pantry”

“gusto ko milktea galing sa cafe sa baba eh tsaka sabi mo ililibre mo 'ko kasi pinahiram kita ng damit”

tinitigan siya ni jaemin ng masama ay umirap, “arte naman nito, oo na” sabi ni jaemin, humiwalay si jaemin sa team niya at dumiretso sa mga elevator para bumaba. hindi laging puno ang cafe na ‘to, madalas ang mga kumakain dito ay ang mga nagtatrabaho rin sa firm nila jaemin kaya naman agad siyang dumiretso sa cashier para umorder. “isang order ng black milktea tsaka isang iced americano, to go” banggit niya sa cashier at inabot ang card niya.

“jaemin?”

‘yung boses na inaasam-asam niyang marinig, ‘yung boses na ilang taon na ang nakalipas hindi pa rin niya makalimutan, ‘yung boses ng taong minamahal niya. napalingon si jaemin sa’yo at ngumiti, “y/n” bati nito, “ah, miss, tawag nalang ako ah. dito lang ako sa table na ‘to”

umupo si jaemin sa harap mo, ngumiti ka sakanya. “so, ikaw pala ang nagdesign ng building namin… i didn’t know kasi galing akong main office sa paris”

“ah, oo… ilang buwan ‘kong trinabaho ‘yun, buti nagustuhan mo.” nahihiyang sabi ni jaemin, “kumusta?” ako pa rin ba?

“okay lang naman, pagod kasi ang haba ng flight kaya nagpapatanggal jetlag muna ‘ko dito” sagot mo, “i heard you were with kuya last night, bachelor’s party niya di ‘ba?”

tumango si jaemin, “hindi na nga ‘ko nagulat na kay ria siya ikakasal… halos sampung taon na sila di ‘ba? kasi five years na sila nung… nung…”

“umalis ako? yep.” sabi mo, “jaemin, kumusta ka?”

ito, ikaw pa rin hanggang ngayon. “okay lang, medyo masakit ulo kasi ang lakas uminom ng kapatid mo.”

“i meant, kumusta ka talaga? how’s your life? may girlfriend ka ba or fiancee? bukod sa trabaho, anong ginagawa mo?”

“okay lang ako, y/n” sagot nito, “wala ‘kong girlfriend, wala kong fiancee. single ako, matagal na.”

“simula nung umalis ako?”

malungkot kang tinignan ni jaemin sa mata, ilang taon na ang nakalipas at ni-isang beses hindi siya pumasok sa relasyon dahil umaasa niyang pagbalik mo, maayos niyo ito. maayos niyo ang kung anong meron kayo. “...oo, ikaw pa rin talaga eh” umamin ito, “alam mo, nung ika-limang buwan mo sa europa? pumunta ako ng paris para bisitahin ‘yung tita ko,” kwento nito, “nakita kita kasi ‘di inaasahang mahahagip ka sa litratong kinuha ng pinsan ko. halos mawala-wala ako sa paris nun para lang hanapin ka,” lumunok si jaemin, pinagiisipan kung itutuloy pa ba ang kwento o hindi na, “nahanap kita, y/n… pero may kasama kang iba.”

“jaemin—”

“gusto sana kitang lapitan nun, gusto sana kitang halikan, gusto sana kitang yakapin pero nakita kong may gumagawa na pala nun sa’yo.” pumiyok ang boses ni jaemin dahil naiiyak siya tuwing naaalala niya ang memoryang ‘yun, wala siyang ibang pinagsabihan sa nangyari sa paris. “alam kong talo na ‘ko nung nakita ko ‘yun, wala akong choice kundi umalis nalang”

“why didn’t you?”

“ha?”

“bakit hindi ka lumapit?” tanong mo, “bakit hindi mo ako tinawag? bakit hindi mo ko kinalabit?”

“kasi nakita kong masaya ka na, sino ba naman ako para sirain ‘yung kasiyahan mo di ‘ba?”

napailing ka at tumawa ng marahan, “hanggang kailan ka magiging duwag, jaemin na?” tanong mo, “sa tingin mo masaya ‘ko nun? umiiyak ako gabi-gabi sa paris dahil hindi ka mawala sa isip ko. umiiyak ako kasi tangina kahit anong pilit kong kalimutan ka, hindi ko talaga kaya. it took me years to move on from you, alam mo ba ‘yun?”

“hindi na ‘ko duwag ngayon, kaya na kitang panindigan” sabi niya, “y/n, pwede pa ba?”

“bakit ngayon ka pa hindi naduwag? kung kailan hindi na pwede?” narinig ni jaemin na bumukas ang pintuan ng cafe, “iba sana ang takbo ng buhay natin ngayon.”

may lumapit na lalaki sa’yo at hinalikan ka sa noo, nanlaki ang mata ni jaemin sa nakita niya. “oh! you must be jeno’s best friend, jaemin, right?” tanong nito, at inabot ang kamay niya. agad namang nakipag-kamay si jaemin, “i’m mark lee, y/n’s fiance”

“it was nice seeing you again, kuya jaemin.” sabi mo at tumayo, “i guess this is goodbye.”

pinanood kang umalis ni jaemin palayo habang hawak-hawak mo ang kamay ng lalaking mapapang-asawa mo. sa isip-isip niya paano nga kaya kung hindi siya naging duwag, ano? kung hinarap ka niya, kung hindi ka niya tinakasan, kung kinalabit ka niya. napailing si jaemin at tumayo nang tawagin ang pangalan niya, saktong pag-ikot niya para umalis, nakita niyang pumasok ka sa kotse ng fiance mo.

you will always be my biggest and favorite what if, my biggest ‘sana’, y/n lee. wala na atang makakapalit sa’yo sa buhay ko, habang buhay nalang kitang hihintayin.

sufries!!! kala niyo tapos na story ni y/n at kuya jaem? HINDE MAY ALTERNATE ENDING KAMENG SINULAT DAHIL DASURB NG DALAWA MABUHAY NA MASAYA KAYA WAIT NIYO NALANG DAHIL SINUSULAT PA NAMIN SIYA RAYNAO EHEHEHEEH LINK NALANG NAMIN DITO KAPAG NAPOST NA NAMIN

#nct angst #nct dream angst #jaemin angst #na jaemin angst #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct soft hours #nct dream soft hours #jaemin soft hours

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neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

she gets the flowers | na jaemin

title: she gets the flowers

pairing: na jaemin x fem!oc/reader

genre: song-fic, childhood friends to fwb to lovers to exes, fluff, smut/suggestive, angst | requested and inspired by she gets the flowers by beth mccarthy

summary: the person you shared every moment of your life with could never betray you, right? That was what she thought before Jaemin proved that he could turn from her soulmate to the biggest source of her pain.

warnings: mentioned drinking and smoking underage, smut, mostly suggestive, oral sex (f receiving, a bit more explicit), angst, no cheating but still feelings of betrayal, attempted suicide (not really, but just in case)

words: 6.855k

a/n: first of all, i'm incredibly sorry this took so long but i was going crazy trying to come up with a plot because the song led me to a plot similar to traitor so that's why it took so long. But I'm happy with the result and i hope you'll like it too. warning: probably it's even sadder than my other angst fics so prepare the tissues, i guess???

There’s something beautiful in growing up together and sharing every day of your life with somebody. It’s a type of bond that nothing in the world can replicate.

That was her relationship with Jaemin. She and Jaemin had shared their entire life together. It wasn’t like they had a choice when their mothers that were best friends for ages, casually ended up pregnant at the same time and gave birth to them only two days apart. Being raised side by side even if they weren’t related was something they couldn’t escape. And without realizing it, they became such a big part of each other’s life that living without each other was hard.

They did everything together. All the dumb things you have to do at least once in your life. All their first times. All their heartbreaks, and joys. There wasn’t a single moment they didn’t share.

Despite this, they were different. Jaemin wasn’t exactly a bad boy, not like the bullies type, at least, but he was the most reckless of the two. Always getting her in trouble, while she tried hard to still be the good girl she always was.

“Jaemin, this is dumb,” she said, trying to stop him from climbing the roof of the store. That was the first time he took her there, only seventeen, the perfect age to try dumb things they couldn’t do.

“Is it?” He asked, his hand reaching for hers to help her get up.

She sighed before briefly looking around, making sure that nobody could see them and then followed him.

“You’re so damn hard to convince sometimes,” he whispered, lips puffing out as he let out the smoke of the cigarette he had stolen from his dad’s jacket, head inclined enough so he could look at her. The chill breeze of October blowing on them.

“And you’re reckless,” she huffed, resting her head on her knees, looking in front of her, they could see a small part of the neighborhood from there, and maybe it was worth the risk.

“Here,” he said, handing her a bottle of soju and she pushed his hand away. “Oh, come on, that’s not dumb.”

“You know I get drunk too easily, I will kill myself trying to climb down again.”

Jaemin chuckled, shaking his head, before turning off the cigarette and drinking the alcohol instead.

“The things I do for you,” he joked when he was done, moving closer to her, wrapping a hand around her shoulders. Her head leaned in immediately, cheeks brushing against the blue jacket he was wearing.

“That’s because you love me.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, leaving a peck on her forehead.

And that was so normal for them that they never truly weighted the words they said to each other. The ‘I love yous’ didn’t mean anything, just like it didn’t mean how they always held each other’s hands when they walked side by side, and always called each other for help.

It was normal, from the crib to when they went to high school and still looked at each other with the same old eyes. It was fine because they both had their own adventures, and they didn’t need each other for that.

Until something wasn’t enough anymore. Until they started to realize they couldn’t find each other in other people. That their beds were always going to be cold if at their side it wasn’t them.

They had no idea how their first kiss happened, or what exactly lead them there. After a long day at Uni, once again on that rooftop with the breeze freezing them. Hesitant lips getting closer, and shy eyes looking into each other, silently asking each other if it was worth it.

When their lips touched their questions were answered. It was. It was worth putting on a line all their years of friendships.

But they had the bad habit of never calling things with a name. That was their relationship since they were kids. It worked without trying.

But they seemed to forget they weren’t five or ten anymore. They were grown-ups. They should’ve talked, should’ve put a name on it, and set some rules. Anything to don’t end up in ashes.

But they didn’t and that kiss was followed by another. This time not so shy or full of fear. Their hands moved freely on their bodies, touching each other in ways they never imagined before. But once again it stopped there, as much as they were pulled by this force, the fear of taking a treacherous path was high.

Until things took a different turn again.

“Wasn’t expecting you here,” Jaemin said, opening the door of the apartment he shared with his friends.

“I’m so tired,” she huffed, kissing him quickly and then falling down on his couch, throwing her bag next to her. “I have two essays to turn in and I have no idea when I’ll write them.”

“Maybe you could start now,” he proposed, pointing at the books on the coffee table. “We could study together.”

“I don’t want to study,” she replied, crossing her arms on her chest.

Jaemin sat next to her, his hand caressing her cheek, making her turn around in surprise.

“I can help you though,” she stuttered, gulping, wanting to pull away from him but at the same time she just wanted to crave more at his touch. “Would never want to come between your studies.”

“We can do something funnier,” he proposed, and only then she turned around, seeing his eyes locked on her lips.

“This is another one of your dumb ideas,” she whispered.

“Is it?” He asked, same old smirk on his face that then turned into a smile that made her melt.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, you know it,” she mumbled, lying, knowing she was lying. Because she wanted it, she wanted that to happen for such a long time.

“Just this time,” he whispered, breath fanning against her lips. “Just once.”

But it hadn’t been just once.

It had happened over and over again.

“Jaemin, fuck.” The loud music was muffled in his room as the party downstairs kept going on. But her mind wasn’t there, it was focused on Jaemin’s face buried between her legs and his hands wrapped around her thighs as he ate her out while she stood against the wall. Too eager to even wait of getting on the bed or undressing her completely.

“You taste so good,” he mumbled pressed against her wet flesh, nose teasing her clit while his lips and tongue worked perfectly to bring her over the edge so soon.

“I’m close,” she breathed out, fingers intertwining in his hair, pulling hard as the orgasm made her tremble.

“Need you,” Jaemin muttered as soon as he pulled away, licking his lips before dragging her body on his bed. Their clothes were on the floor in a second and Jaemin’s hands ran all over her body.

“Quit playing and just fuck me,” she urged, hips grinding against him.

“You’re so impatient,” he groaned before leaning over the bedside table to grab a condom, ripping the wrap and rolling it down his length.

“If you didn’t tease me all night, maybe,” she said, spreading her legs more, waiting for him to slip inside her. “Shit, so good.”

Moans and whimpers got lost in the night as the party went on downstairs without their care, too busy burning into each other’s flames and lying into ashes on the bed as what was going on between them grew bigger and bigger every day.

There’s something extremely painful about one-sided love. And it only gets worst when the person that gets you weak in the knees is your best friend.

She should’ve known it was a dumb idea. She should’ve stopped it before it even started but by now it was too late. She was too deep into that. And she was once again half naked in Jaemin’s bed, getting drunk in a pleasure that wasn’t enough to water the pain any longer.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she snapped, standing up, pushing his body away, and trying to look for her clothes again.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, grabbing his boxer just to cover himself the quicker he could and reaching her.

She sighed, slipping on herself his shirt, lifting her head up to push down the tears. “No, I… it’s my fault,” she confessed, turning around again, looking for her pants but the tears in her eyes made it impossible for her to see. And the salty drops filled her eyes even more when she felt Jaemin’s arms wrap around her.

“Hey, calm down,” he whispered, turning her around, her head falling in the crook of his neck as she let him lull her, his hands caressing her back. “It’s alright, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” she mumbled through sobs. “I can’t keep having you like this without truly having you.”

Jaemin was surprised by her words and pulled away to stare at her face. “You mean the sex?”

She nodded, the palm of her hand wiping away her tears. “I thought my heart was safe but I love you. And I know you don’t love me back, I know this was just… just the easiest thing we could do but I – I love you so much. I’ve been loving you for too long without knowing,” she sobbed. “And I know you don’t feel the same –”

“Who said that?” Jaemin stopped her immediately.

“I know.”

“You know? And based on what?”

When she didn’t answer he shook his head. “You think I treat all my other friends the way I treat you? You think I stay up all night to study with somebody else? You think I prepare them tea? You think that if it was just sex I’d let you stay over every time and let you sleep on my chest? You think I’d make your breakfast? You think I’d let you borrow my clothes?”

“Isn’t this what we… isn’t this what we did even when we were just friends? How can I tear this apart?”

Jaemin sighed, nodding, “I don’t know…” he whispered. The lines of their relationship had always been blurry. All the years their friends told them they acted like a couple. All the years their family told them the same thing. All the times they wondered what they were. They simply never had the courage to say it out loud, but now that all the lines were crossed they couldn’t keep playing that game anymore.

“I feel good with you, and I love you,” Jaemin said. “I love you so much,” he replied, cupping her cheeks in his hand, and her heart skipped a beat at his words. “And if you love me back maybe we could give this a try?”

And she said yes. Of course, she did. She had been waiting for this moment for so long that she felt on cloud nine.

Jaemin, her best friend, the perfect man she always wanted to have at her side, was finally her boyfriend.

The perfect man.

That was what she thought.

That was what Jaemin was when he was her best friend.

And he was like that even for the first year they dated.

He was thoughtful, energetic, and responsible and the list of all the compliments she could give him could go on and on. He was the same Jaemin she used to know, the one she always loved, as a friend, as a lover.

And their story was going so well that they even started to look for a small apartment together when the second year of University ended and moved in before summer was over.

“Stop playing around, Nana,” she warned him, pointing the brush on his face, trying to squirm away from him.

“Come on, it’s just some paint,” he laughed, successfully staining her face with the light blue of their bedroom.

“What did you just do?” She glared at him before coloring his face too, making him laugh. “You want war and I’ll give it to you.”

And that was another afternoon spent playing around, paint ending everywhere but on the walls, leaving them lying on the floor breathless before they decided that it was better to wrap it up and go take a shower.

And the new house led to thousands of shopping dates to pick up the furniture, and everything else they needed. Long days running around ended in cozy nights spent together on their couch eating food while their place started to form around them, walls filling up, smelling and looking like them more and more with each passing day.

The last two years of University passed like that, in their place, with their usual routine, with new memories and joys. Inviting friends over, wasting Saturdays doing nothing but cuddling up in their living room, or taking care of the plants that filled their home.

They slept and woke up, looking at each other, always more sure that they were meant to be each other’s future.

Until something broke.

Jaemin was distant.

It wasn't a clear break, one day the sweetest, most loving person ever and the next one a cold, heartless one. It was slow, like the grains of sanding passing from one side to another of an hourglass. Slipping out of her hands just like sand.

Every time she tried to plan something, he always came up with something he had to do. She didn’t want to call them excuses, but at this point, she couldn’t name them in any other way.

And it wasn’t only that, it looked like he had stopped paying her attention at all, whether she wanted it for dumb reasons or even serious ones.

“We have to call the landlord,” she reminded him from the kitchen, turning around to see that he was once again on the couch, doing nothing on the phone.

“Jaemin,” she called him, leaning against the door frame, glaring at him.

“Yeah? You wanted me?”

“I was talking to you,” she replied.

“I wasn’t listening,” he mumbled, putting the phone away.

“Yeah, I can see it,” she sighed, turning around again.

“What did you want?” He asked, and even if she didn’t turn around she knew he was in the kitchen too.

“Nothing, I can do it myself.”

Jaemin huffed, “so you can be mad at me because I didn’t do it?”

She chuckled. “You never do what I ask you do.”

“Here we go again,” he replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Yes, I’ll say it again because we can’t keep going on like this. We have to call the landlord because he’s raising the rent of this house again. Our place. I don’t know if you get it that you live here, too.”

“I know. I’ll call him. You think that will make him stop? It’s been two years since we live here, and he does it every time.”

“You didn’t even answer your mother about Sunday.”

“Do you really want to go there?”

She sighed, studying his face with a shocked expression. “It’s your mom? And it’s to spend time together.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? On Sunday?”

“I have... a thing to do…”

“A thing? And what is that?” She tilted her head, trying to meet his gaze but Jaemin was avoiding it.

“Need to help Renjun with something. Boring things you don’t care about,” he cut short, and she furrowed, but she had no strength to dig deeper and maybe end up in a fight.

They fought too often lately. They had started to bicker over the smallest things, screaming at each other, drifting away, and crying over spilled milk. And that was fucking her up.

She felt like she couldn’t keep going on like this, but every time she tried to talk with him, Jaemin always slipped from her fingers or she couldn’t find the mental energy to go all the way.

It was just a moment. It surely had to be like that. Maybe it was the stress from work, or those normal crises couples went through.

But to Jaemin it wasn’t a moment.

“I want to break up.”

And then those words arrived. They hit her like a thunder in the middle of a storm. While sitting in front of each other at the table of their house he was finding the bravery to put an end to them.

“I can’t keep lying to myself anymore,” Jaemin confessed, eyes lowering because he couldn’t stand looking into hers. His best friends. The person he learned to walk with. The person he almost shared his birthday with. The person that saw him at his lowest. “I think I mistook the habit of having you by my side for love.”

Her whole world fell apart. She had so many things to say, questions to ask, but not a sound could come out of her mouth.

“I don’t love you. I’m not even sure I ever did. Not like this, at least. Not like you want me to love you.”

Some moments of silence passed after his confession as they stared into each other’s eyes. Jaemin trying to imagine a reaction, hoping it was going to be different from the ones he pictured while preparing for this. Her trying to see a glimpse of a joke, a terrible and cruel one, but a joke.

But she knew him too well and his eyes, his beautiful, once warm, brown eyes there was no sign of a joke. He meant it. Jaemin meant every word.

“You never loved me?” She asked, voice trembling, eyes watery.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You’re telling me I just wasted more than two years of my life by your side and you don’t know?”

“It’s not my fault, I… I thought I did before I met someone else and maybe… maybe this is not love. My heart doesn’t beat the same. I don’t know.”

“So there’s also somebody else!” She screamed. “After all that I gave up for you! You couldn’t realize this a little bit earlier? Before I gave up my job in London for you? Before I put all my savings in this place for us to share? Before I gave up going to New York for the master?”

Jaemin didn’t answer, he didn’t even look at her. He couldn’t stand the look on her face, he was used to wiping it away, to kiss it away, but now he was the one that caused it.

“I… fuck,” she cursed, throwing her head back to push back tears. “I could’ve had so much more and I never did all because of you, because I thought I had love and you’re telling me all these years had been a lie? I ruined my life for you and you can’t even love me. No, you can’t even look at me while you’re telling me this big news.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes meeting her just for a split second.

“Sure, this is going to fix everything,” she chuckled bitterly. “Tell me what she has that I don’t!”

“Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do this? Seriously? I want to know. I deserve to know because you… you can’t just leave me like this.”

“I’m not leaving like this,” he tried to explain. “I thought about it for so long.”

“Why am I so hard to love?” She cried, but it was more of a thought to herself, getting up to walk back and forth because she felt all the emotions pile up and she needed to let them go somehow.

“You are not hard to love. I love you, just not like that.”

“Just shut the fuck up! I don’t care how you love me, I don’t want you to love me like that. Shut up!” Her whole body was shaking, tears flooding down her face, her head was about to explode, and probably her heart too.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying it, stop it!”

Jaemin sighed, he never imagine it would come to this. Honestly, he had no idea how else she could’ve reacted, but there must’ve been a good side to this, right? “I don’t know when it happened, I just realized it now. Isn’t it better like this? It’s over now and we can both move on.”

“Sure,” she replied, holding in a bitter chuckle. “It’s so easy for you. She’s already waiting at home, right? Waiting for you, being everything you always wanted. Something I will never be.”

“She doesn’t know. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“I hope she makes you happy,” she replied, eyes closing so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks faster while her hand rested against the wall, trying to calm her breathing down. “I hope her eyes look better than they shine. I hope her lips taste sweeter than mine. I hope she looks prettier when she cries. I hope she won’t be so hard to handle.”

Jaemin walked toward her, trying to hold her in his arms but she glared at him and it was enough to make him take a step back.

“Leave,” she only whispered, taking a deep breath, trying to don’t pay attention to the tears that were making her look more and more pathetic. “You don’t want me, Jaemin. And I can’t change your mind. I can’t force you here. I already ruined enough of your life with this.”

“You didn’t ruin my life, please. You will always be my best friend.”

She couldn’t hold in the loud sob that rolled out of her mouth when he said that and her body crashed against the wall again.

“I hate you so much,” she screamed, shaking and sniffling. “You — you should’ve told me this so long ago. I hate you so much,” she repeated, bending and holding her stomach, wishing she knew a way to make this pain stop. “I would’ve rather lost the sex with you than — than be — ugh,” she sobbed, completely falling on the floor.

Jaemin was frozen, his heart was broken too. He would’ve never wanted to be the reason for her tears, or for her pain, especially for this pain. Seeing her body shake, her face a mess of tears and mascara and her chest panting uncontrollably as she gasped for air.

“I didn’t do this on purpose,” he whispered because he had no idea what to tell her. How to make her believe that if he made up his feelings before he would’ve told her sooner.

“I know,” she replied, not looking at him. “But… leave, please. I can’t — I can’t do this… I can’t be this close to you. I — I… Leave.”

And he did, walking to their bedroom he grabbed some of his things for the night and left. He tried to meet her eyes before closing the door behind him, but she was huddled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably and the only thing he could do after turning her in that state, was to leave her some space.

When the sound of the door closing reached her ears, she started crying louder, fingers clenching too hard around her hair and pulling too much, trying to feel some physical pain because the emotional one was unbearable.

That wasn’t fair.

That was nothing of what she had planned for the night, or for the weekend, or for their lives.

And she couldn’t even think why she wasn’t enough, why he didn’t cast her in the show of his life forever. She could only think about all the wasted times and how now she could’ve been anywhere else in the world, with a job that made her ten times happier, with somebody that truly loved her and still with Jaemin at his side, still her childhood best friend, still the little teenage boy that made her laugh, still the college pal that spent nights up with her.

But Jaemin now turned into a nightmare. He was somebody that she didn’t know.

Jaemin was the source of her biggest pain and that was a kind of hurt she didn’t know how to deal with.

She felt sick.

Sick to the stomach.

So, still crying, and sobbing, she crawled on the floor, tired body making its way to the bathroom, feeling like she was carrying around a ton too heavy to handle. And she threw up, everything she could’ve, and finding the strength to lift her hand and flush was hard. Just like it was to get up when her heart and stomach hurt so much and she felt like she could barely breathe.

“I’m so pathetic,” she whispered through sobs while she laid curled up on the floor, thinking it couldn’t be possible to react that way, that a break-up couldn’t be the end of the world, that a betrayal like this couldn’t be the end of the world. And yet it felt exactly like that. And she had no strength to get up or drag her body to the bed, their bed, so she fell asleep there, exhausted, heartbroken, and humiliated.

It wasn’t going to be the end of the world.

But right there, it felt like the end of the universe.

Dealing with what came after hadn’t been easy. Seeing Jaemin’s face again hadn’t been easy. But that still was his place, and his friends couldn’t just make room for him in their houses out of nowhere. So they still had to share their everyday life for a week before Renjun found a way to let him squeeze into his house, a temporary solution to give him time to find a new place.

But dealing with his absence wasn’t easy either. Every day when she came home the house was a little emptier. All the things they bought together. All the things she had seen in his room at his parent’s place, then in his college room, and now here. Gone. Gone just like him.

Jaemin had tried to talk to her several times, but she never answered, unless it was really necessary, and when she did the only words were ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or small phrases.

She was angry. Furious even. So much she feared she was going to go insane. Because the pain was pressing her to the floor and she felt like she was about to explode. But that wasn’t her, that was a part of her that was hurt and devastated. And as much as Jaemin deserved it, she didn’t want to regret any dumb action, so she took a step back. Hoping he was going to leave her alone as soon as possible and then she would’ve healed by herself.

And it took her at least one month to get back on her feet. She didn’t even feel pain, she felt empty, and for some reason, it was worst. She had no emotions to deal with, to feel and then analyze, no root of a pain to reach to break it apart.

She spent her evenings sitting on a corner of the sofa, looking at the wall, feeling like she was going insane. Her friends tried to make her go out, get her mind off of it, but she had no strength. She was falling into a withdrawal.

“What is this?” She asked her mother while she went through the mail, an envelope that was too elegant to be normal mail catching her eyes. She had started to come back to her parent’s house during the weekend to don’t feel so lonely because that place screamed Jaemin from every corner and she couldn’t deal with it. During the week she was too wrecked from work to let him drag her down, but the weekends were the worst.

“What, honey? It must be the usual stuff,” her mother replied not even turning around, too busy crocheting a blanket.

She wanted to leave it there, but something inside her told her to open it.

“Are you kidding me?” She whispered, blinking her eyes twice to make sure she wasn’t going insane. “He’s getting married?” Her eyes were still on that piece of paper with her name written on it. “He’s getting married and he invited me?”

When her eyes fell on her mother her heart broke even more. “You — you knew?” the words were shaking coming out of her mouth and her eyes got wetter.

“Honey, I’m —”

“Don’t call me honey,” she warned her sternly, feeling like that pet name was mocking her even more. “You knew?”

“I’m still friends with his mom, you know what’s between us, of course, I did,” she confessed, placing the wool next down on the armchair and walking toward her daughter but she stepped back. “I wasn’t planning on giving it to you.”

“Why did he invite me? Does he think — does he think we can still be friends after all the pain he caused to me?” Her back met the wall and it was getting harder to breathe.

He was getting married.

Na Jaemin, her best friend for life, her first love, her first real relationship, the one she gave up so much for, was getting married two months after they broke up.

“His mother did the invitations. You know it’s hard for us to see you like this. We just wish you would solve this.”

“Solve this?” She almost screamed, staring at her mother in disbelief. “Solve what? The broken heart he threw to the ground and stepped on? I gave him my life, mom, I did things for him — I… I would’ve died for him and he tells me he never loved me. These past three years had been a lie, he was with me just because I was there, ready to crawl at his side, I was just a habit he was too afraid to lose and he had to tie me to him somehow until I became too much and he kicked me out of his life. How can I go past this? Why do I always have to be the one that lets people run over her?”

“I didn’t mean that, but you two have been through so much. I don’t understand how —”

“Yeah, you don’t understand,” she replied bitterly before grabbing her things and walking out of the house, not listening to her mother begging to make her stay.

She had no idea how she made it home with the tears fogging her eyes and her heart split into million pieces more than it already was. But once she crossed the door she let out the most broken scream of her life, bending in two in front of the door, letting her body fall on the floor, screaming and crying, regretting all her life choices, wondering how the person she trusted the most in the whole world could’ve turned into her biggest enemy.

Jaemin, the one that had her back when she did something wrong. The one that helped her stood up every time she fell. The one that kissed the pain away when she fell off the bike or from the swing. Her soulmate had backstabbed her, over and over again.

“I don’t deserve this,” she shouted, resting her back against the hard door, head rolled back as she tried to let her lungs breathe in more air because she felt like she was dying. “I don’t deserve all this pain.”

But she had nobody to talk to, nobody was there to hug her or calm her down, nobody to whisper in her ears that eventually, one day, everything would’ve been better.

Nobody was there to tell her that one day she would’ve got that love she deserved.

Because the love she deserved was reserved for somebody else.

And she shouldn’t have added more pain to her suffering, but her hands quickly reached for her phone and opened Instagram.

And there they were.

“Forever and always” as the caption of their hands, two beautiful rings on their fingers. And swiping left another picture, their cheeks pressed against each other, smiling widely as the wind blew the hair in front of their faces.

The exact picture she had of them on her lock screen, but now that she thought about it, after months of thinking that was one of their best photos, she realized that Jaemin’s cheek wasn’t so close to hers.

And there were so many posts on Instagram, both of their feeds were full of each other with cheesy captions and emojis. Things he never, ever did for her.

She broke down again, feeling her heart twist in her ribcage.

She had spent months trying to convince herself that Jaemin had fallen out of love in the last months. That it had happened, that it was just bad luck and they weren’t meant to last.

But looking back at it now, thinking about how easily he had moved on and what kind of love he was reserving for her, the sad truth crashed her to the ground.

Jaemin had never fallen in love with her.

They weren’t supposed to meet again, but she couldn’t say ‘no’ when her mother invited her to the usual spring party she threw the first week of April.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you here,” Jaemin mumbled when they crashed against each other. “I was looking for a thing in my… my jacket,” he explained since they were both in the guest room.

She was frozen. She wanted to leave. She should’ve left because she came there mainly to avoid him. She couldn’t stand seeing him and her all over each other, their hands intertwined, his lips always on her cheeks or lips, his fingers gently grazing her hair back.

“Are you okay?” He asked when tears started streaming down her face. It had been months since he had last seen her and he never imagined she was doing this badly, she barely looked like herself anymore.

She didn’t even notice she had started crying, it happened so often lately that she didn’t even pay attention to it anymore.

“Never been better,” she replied sarcastically, but her feet still couldn’t find the strength to move past him and walk out.

“I didn’t know about what my mom did, I would’ve stopped her,” he said.

She chuckled bitterly. “You think that the problem is being invited? You think that the mere fact of you marrying someone else after two months of our break up isn’t heartbreaking enough?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She nodded. “I know, I know. We never want to hurt others, and just because it wasn’t on purpose the others shouldn’t feel hurt or betrayed, right? It’s always an honest mistake. Oops, I slipped. Oops, I didn’t do it on purpose. I casually stuck ten knives in your chest but I never thought you would bleed and die on the floor, please, forgive me.” Her tone wasn’t high but bitter, full of a type of anger Jaemin never heard before.

“Let’s not do this right now,” Jaemin said. “There are people.”

“Yeah, you care so much about what they might think. You don’t even care about all the pain you put me through. How much this hurt and how much you, your mother and mine are slapping your happiness at my expense on my face.”

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I shouldn’t have? She’s my mom. This is my parents’ house. Not yours. You should’ve been thoughtful enough to say no when she invited you, to take your fucking distances from my family but no, this is so much better. You love seeing me miserable. You love knowing I’m not getting over you, that for me there will never be getting over you. Probably you get off to my pain.”

“Don’t say things that are not true. I didn’t know you were coming, I wouldn’t have come.”

“I don’t even get how my mom let her in, why she’s so supportive of you as if… as if you’re not the reasons I’m struggling to make it to the next day. Why does nobody care about me? Why is she still all over you? Why can’t she see it? Why can’t she realize you’re not the kind, little boy I used to spend my morning, afternoon and evening with?”

“She’s just happy for me…”

“Right, you’re happy, your family is happy. She’s happy, happier than I’ve ever been. You found your person, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And I’m so happy about it. Congratulation for being happy, for finding love, for — fuck,” she cursed. “I’m so happy for you. I’m so happy that she’s getting all the love I deserved to have.”

“Don’t do this.”

“No, I’m truly happy. I’m so happy that she gets the flowers, the boxes of chocolate, the nights out to stargaze, the marriage proposal, the new house, maybe even a dog or a child.”

“Are you mad because I love her?”

“I’m mad because she gets the love I deserved. The love that I gave you.” It was hard to say it out loud and in front of him but she was so mad, so frustrated that everybody there acted as if she was the problem or the overdramatic one.

“She gets the posts made about her, she gets the flowers, she gets a perfect love that you never gave to me. You never loved me. All these years were a fucking lie, Jaemin. You lied to me. I gave you my everything. I was so open to you, I showed you my true colors and what I got back? A fucking play. You were playing a part. I have no idea who I had by my side in the last three years. And I’ve known you before we could even talk.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t… I can’t choose who I love.”

“I don’t care. I got excuses, Jaemin. You got to use this, to use me. You left me in the dust with nothing and then walked away as if it was nothing. As if I was nothing,” she screamed, fist clenching around his shirt before letting go because she couldn’t stand to stay this close to him.

“Was I too hard to handle? Was I too emotionally unstable? What was wrong with me that — that didn’t make you love me? Why don’t you love me? Why don’t you want me?”

“Because you’re not her,” Jaemin snapped, their eyes locking into each other, hearts breaking again. Hers because she never imagined he could hurt her that bad. Again. Over the same wound. Healing and bleeding. Closing and ripping open. And his because he never wanted to hurt her that bad. Jaemin truly didn’t want this to end like this. And he couldn’t stand the emptiness he could see in her eyes as they stared into his and felt like nothing of what they used to feel.

They weren’t home anymore. And this was the cruellest reminder.

Her feet moved back, heels almost dripping on the floor and lips shaking. She gulped, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, nodding as she felt the air dim in her lungs again.

“You’re right,” she whispered, looking through the clothes to grab her jacket before putting it on and storming outside.

Jaemin should’ve let her go but he knew that when she acted like this she was out of herself.

“Where are you going? It’s dangerous to drive like this,” he screamed, running after her, cursing because he didn’t want to make a scene but he still cared about her.

“Why do you act like you care? You don’t give a damn about me. Just — just stop this,” she replied, slamming the front door, walking fast to her car, falling apart when she turned around and he wasn’t there. His fiancée had stopped him, probably asking what was going on and he was lying, coming up with something that wasn’t related to her, because she wasn’t worth a fight between him and the love of his life, and he walked back to the garden, once again forgetting about her.

Driving in those conditions was a terrible idea, but she wanted to go home and the idea of death didn’t sound so sad or scary.

Dying for love was such a dumb thing.

But she couldn’t keep her eyes on the road, her hands couldn’t control the wheel, shaking too hard. And when she lost control, when the car ran off the road and death grazed her, she wondered if it went in another way, if destiny wouldn’t have been so gentle to keep her alive if she would’ve gotten the flowers on her tombstones.

But she wasn’t underground, she was alive, hurt, next to her car, crying her eyes out to a love that was never meant to be.

She couldn’t know what would’ve happened if things went the other way. But of one thing, she was sure.

Someone else was getting the flowers and would’ve always got them.

And that someone, wasn’t her.

I hope you liked it! Please let me know with comments, reblogs or asks!!

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