strljaem

[strljaem]

a vow beneath the peach-light.

💿 you are in love (taylor’s version), taylor swift.

i never meant to fall in love with a star,

but there he was — na jaemin —

gentle as a breeze through pine needles,

green as the whole forest,

a quiet soul with galaxies in his eyes,

and a smile that softened the weight of this world.

they told me to dream small.

i didn’t listen.

instead, i whispered his name into every wish,

until the sky grew quiet enough to echo it back.

jaemin.

that’s what i call him —

not “idol,” not “celebrity,” not “dream,”

just jaemin.

the boy who once said,

“i want to protect what i love.”

and now i know — he meant me.

he’s soft-spoken,

but his silence speaks volumes.

in his stillness, i find warmth.

in his laughter, i find home.

(we have this inside joke —

he says i’m secretly a squirrel because i always hide snacks in my bag.

i told him he’s wrong,

but then he found three choco pies and a peach candy under my scarf.

he grinned and said, “i knew it. squirrel confirmed.”)

i still remember the first time he held my hand.

the morning was stitched with ocean winds,

sunlight spilling gently across the beach,

and the road lamps, still glowing from the early hours,

stood like quiet witnesses.

we walked slowly —

two shadows drawn in gold,

and then he looked at me — really looked.

his eyes asked for nothing,

but his hand held everything.

we talked about nothing and everything.

his voice like morning fog, soft and close.

my heart a drum in my chest,

and then —

the kiss.

our first.

no fireworks, no music.

just wind and waves,

and the silent thud of two hearts

agreeing at the same time.

he tasted like something i could never explain —

like promise,

like someone who would stay.

sometimes i stare at him when he isn’t looking.

sometimes he catches me.

and then, in the gentlest voice, he says,

“stop looking at me like that… you’re making me fall harder.”

i smile.

because i’m already at the bottom —

no parachute, no fear.

i asked him once,

“why me?”

he looked confused, like i’d asked him why the sun rises.

“because you see me as jaemin. and that’s all i ever wanted to be.”

and this morning —

under the same sun that once lit our first kiss,

he got down on one knee.

his hands trembled a little,

his eyes shimmered like dew on leaves,

and he said:

“will you be the home i come back to forever?

will you marry me, my squirrel?”

and all i could do was laugh through the tears

and say yes

yes

yes

to this boy of forests and galaxies,

to the one who made me believe

that dreams do look back at you —

and sometimes,

they hold your hand

and call you home.

[strljaem]

“WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?”

an adaptation from Gossip Girl 1x10

Na Jaemin as Nate Archibald

Y/N as Blair Waldorf

(slight angst, slow burn, fluff, happy ending)

💿 : video games, lana del rey.

From the very beginning, our lives had been intricately entwined—two kids from the Upper East Side, growing up in the same orbit of glittering expectations and whispered destinies. We met on the steps of the Met, knees brushing as we shared Ladurée macarons our nannies had handed us. I was seven, wearing a velvet headband, already practicing the posture of a girl born to rule, pretending I belonged to a world that I secretly feared might reject me. And there he was—Na Jaemin. Scraped-kneed, dimpled smile, and beautiful in the kind of way that made strangers pause. He didn’t try. He just was.

That night, under pink fairy lights and the canopy of my canopy bed, I scribbled in my diary: “Na Jaemin will be my prince. One day. I know it.” I dotted the ‘i’ with a heart and underlined his name three times. Even then, I wasn’t one to hope passively. I planned. I manifested. I believed.

We became inseparable. Not in the loud, attention-seeking way some Upper East Side friendships announce themselves, but in quiet rituals and glances that said more than words ever could. Jaemin was my confidant, my safe place, the keeper of all my secrets. He saw the me behind the perfectly pleated skirts and practiced smiles. He knew I hated bees but adored the first snowfall. That I pretended to like caviar but secretly preferred Nutella on toast. And I knew him too—how he double-knotted his shoes, how he hummed softly when tired, the way his voice dropped whenever he talked about his mother.

As we got older, the lines between friendship and something more began to blur. Subtly, slowly. A lingering look here. A touch that lasted a second too long. The moment I remember most was in the back of a limousine after a winter charity gala. The city glowed outside the tinted windows. My hand was resting on the leather seat. His hand brushed mine. And this time, he didn’t move away. My breath caught. I turned to look at him, and for a heartbeat, the whole world fell away. That night, I wrote just one word in my diary, underlined ten times: “Finally.”

Senior year was supposed to be the crescendo of everything we’d been building toward. I had my eyes set on the crown, not just the literal tiara they handed out at prom, but the metaphorical one too—prom queen, early engagement, college as a power couple. We were legacy kids from legacy families. The pressure to perform wasn’t new. But for once, the pressure aligned with what I genuinely wanted. When our parents started tossing around the idea of an early engagement—lightheartedly at first, like something out of a Jane Austen novel—I didn’t flinch. I smiled through the entire dinner, my fingers trembling under the tablecloth, because I believed with my whole heart that Jaemin and I were inevitable.

But he didn’t smile like I did. He was kind. He was gracious. But there was distance in his eyes, like he was watching a version of his life play out that he hadn’t agreed to.

My eighteenth birthday was supposed to change everything. I had spent months planning the masquerade ball. Candlelight dripped from golden chandeliers. Silk draped every table. The prize of the night was whispered among guests—whoever found me before midnight would win a kiss. It was theatrical and romantic and oh-so-Upper-East-Side. And I already knew who I wanted to find me.

But midnight struck.

And he wasn’t there.

I blew out the candles alone.

Later that night, I waited in my bedroom, swathed in jasmine and silk. I wore the satin nightgown I had chosen for this moment—the one moment I thought would make everything finally fall into place. I sat perched on the edge of my bed, heart racing. And finally, there was a knock.

He walked in slowly. My eyes locked on the door before I saw him, standing at the door. I smiled faintly.

“What took you so long?” I asked, trying to hide the quake in my voice.

He looked hesitant, shifting on his feet. “I ran into Jeno. I forgot the time. I’m sorry.”

That word—sorry—echoed in my chest like a shattering glass.

I rose and walked to him, slowly. Jaemin closed the door behind him, eyes still locking in mine. Then I kissed him. Softly. Longingly. I poured everything I had into that moment—years of devotion, of patience, of dreams. Unfortunately, he didn’t kiss me back. A burning flame just ignited in me.

I pulled away, barely breathing. “Why?” My eyes teared up.

He looked down. “I don’t know.”

“Why won’t you let yourself love me? Why does it feel like I’m the only one fighting for this?”, this time I just let my voice tremble in front of him, letting him know that he really hurt my feelings by making me waiting for him.

Jaemin looked up to me, and the moment his eyes found mine—glassy, red-rimmed, and wild from crying—something in him shifted. The tension in his shoulders dissolved, his jaw unclenched, and that impassive wall he so often wore cracked open just enough to let softness bleed through. His gaze moved slowly across my face, taking in the quiver of my lips, the flushed blotches on my cheeks, the way my chest rose and fell too fast, too shallow. And then, so gently it almost broke me, he reached out. His fingers brushed against mine like a whisper, then clasped them fully, grounding me with their warmth. Without saying a word, he pulled me forward, guiding me down to sit beside him on the bed, our knees touching. The silence between us pulsed with everything unspoken—regret, confusion, longing—and still, he didn’t let go.

He turned slightly to face me, one hand still holding mine, the other moving with careful deliberation to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, like I was made of glass. “Hey,” he said softly, the word barely audible. “Just breathe.” His voice was low and steady, but there was a tremor beneath it, like he was holding back too much. I wanted to scream, to cry again, to demand why he was only showing me this tenderness now—but I couldn’t move. I just stared at him, dazed and exhausted, breathing in the scent of his cologne and the nearness of him, trying to memorize the way his brows furrowed in concern. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him, unsure if I was about to break apart or fall into him completely.

We sat on the bed in aching silence. My voice cracked when I asked, “Is there someone else?”

He hesitated. Just long enough.

“I knew it,” I whispered. “Get out.”

“Please don’t—”

“Get out, Jaemin!”

I shoved him. The slam of the door echoed like a gunshot in my chest. I collapsed against it, sobbing. And I made sure he could hear me. I couldn’t go to school the next day, I couldn’t bear looking at his face at all. I bet my swollen face from all the crying would’ve ended up in Gossip Girl!

That evening, when the house had settled into the quiet lull of night, I heard the soft murmur of voices below. Dorota came to my room with a careful knock. I was curling under my duvet, watching the golden morning turn gray.

“Jaemin is here to see you,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “Waiting.”

I swallowed hard, heart pounding with a mix of dread and reluctant hope. I smoothed my dress and made my way down the grand staircase, the clicking of my high heels on the marble steps loud in the silence.

At the bottom, he stood in the living room. Arms crossed, leaning casually but with an undeniable tension. His eyes caught mine the moment the sound of my heels echoed, and he stood upright. Relief softened his features—but his hands clenched tightly, betraying nerves beneath his calm exterior.

“What are you doing here, Jaemin?” I asked, my voice low. I tried not to meet his eyes, but I knew him too well—he was the kind who never broke eye contact during moments like these.

“Well, I—” He hesitated, then squared his shoulders and stepped forward. “Look, you know, after the prom night rehearsal last week, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

His words caught me off guard. My expression softened, the walls I’d raised beginning to crumble. I stared at him, disbelief mingling with something like hope, while his big brown eyes—framed by impossibly long lashes—locked with mine, searching, vulnerable.

“And yes,” he added after a pause, voice quiet but sure, “about the prom… the one we talked about since we were like ten years old… let’s make it come true.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed, trying to hold onto my anger. “Jaemin, after what you pulled on my birthday last night, how could you still keep thinking about me?”

His expression softened, his gaze lowering. “That’s why I came here to see you,” he murmured.

He looked back up, meeting my eyes again with earnest vulnerability. “But about last night… it wasn’t that I loved someone else. It never was. I’m just… not ready. Not for the engagement. I want to spend more time with you—not as a fiancé, but as your best friend. We’re still so young, right?”

His soft-spoken, persuasive tone softened the anger that had been burning in me. I just stared at him, swallowing the lump in my throat.

He reached out, taking my hand gently in his. His fingers caressed mine, warm and reassuring.

“I still want to go to the prom,” he whispered, eyes searching mine. “As your prom date. For old times’ sake?”

I gulped, the knot in my throat loosening. My voice was barely audible. “Okay,”

We smiled, a fragile but real connection rekindled between us.

He stepped closer and pulled me into a hug. His arms wrapped around me tenderly but possessively, as if claiming me without words. I melted into him, breathing in his familiar scent—soft cologne mixed with something uniquely Jaemin. His heartbeat pressed against my cheek, steady and grounding, and for a moment, the world righted itself.

The night of prom felt like stepping into a dream draped in shimmering silk and glittering lights. The grand ballroom glittered with chandeliers dripping crystals like captured stars, casting prismatic patterns across the polished floor. Guests swirled in gowns and tuxedos, laughter and music filling the air like a delicate melody that wrapped around us.

I wore a gown that seemed spun from moonlight—its fabric shimmering softly beneath the dazzling lights, delicate beadwork tracing patterns like constellations across the bodice and skirt. Every time I moved, the dress caught the light and flickered like a thousand tiny stars. My heart fluttered as Jaemin approached, looking utterly breathtaking in a tailored tuxedo that accentuated his broad shoulders and warm smile.

We stood side by side as the announcer called our names.

“Prom King and Queen: Na Jaemin and y/n.”

The applause swelled, a wave of warmth and approval washing over us. I felt all eyes on me, but instead of nerves, I was wrapped in a cocoon of elation. Jaemin’s hand slid into mine, grounding me as we ascended the stage.

The crowd’s cheers swirled around us like a living thing. Jaemin lifted the delicate silver crown from its velvet cushion and gently placed it atop my head. His fingers lingered, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His smile was the kind that reached his eyes—endearing, full of promise and something tender I hadn’t seen in a long time.

I looked up at him, breath caught, and he whispered, “You look breathtaking.” I murmured, “Thanks, you too”.

The band shifted to a slow, haunting melody. We moved to the center of the dance floor, bodies pressed close beneath the sparkling chandeliers. Jaemin’s hand was warm on my waist, his other hand holding mine with gentle certainty. Our breaths mingled, hearts syncing to the rhythm of the music, every step drawing us closer together.

For that dance, the world melted away. There was only us—the years of friendship, heartbreak, and hope wrapped in one quiet, perfect moment.

As the slow melody wrapped around us like silk, I let my cheek rest against Jaemin’s shoulder, our bodies swaying in perfect rhythm beneath the glittering canopy of lights. The crowd faded into a dreamy blur—chiffon gowns, champagne laughter, clinking glasses—and all I could feel was the warmth of his hand pressed against my waist, the steady rise and fall of his chest under my palm. But even as I floated in the romance of it, a restlessness stirred inside me. I tilted my head just enough so my lips brushed the edge of his jaw and whispered, “This is getting boring.” Jaemin pulled back slightly, just enough to catch my eyes, and there it was—that smirk. The one that curled like a secret. Mischievous, boyish, irresistible. He didn’t even need to say a word. I grinned, grabbed his hand, and before anyone could notice, we slipped away like shadows, running down the marbled corridors, laughter bubbling from our lips as if we were teenagers again, escaping the weight of the world for just one stolen moment.

Upstairs, everything was quieter—dimmer, cloaked in the hush of late-night elegance. The chandeliers flickered like candlelight above our heads as we tiptoed through the hallway, hearts pounding in our throats. I paused at a door, turned the handle slowly, and peeked inside. Empty. My pulse fluttered. I looked back at Jaemin, his eyes locked on mine with a soft intensity that made my breath catch. I pulled him inside gently, and he followed without hesitation. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, he reached back and turned the lock—click—the sound echoing in the stillness like a promise. And he never broke eye contact. Not for a second. That gaze, so open and burning, held me in place as if words weren’t enough anymore. The air felt electric, heavy with everything we’d never said, everything we’d always felt. And in that quiet, enclosed space, time stopped—for him and me alone.

Jaemin took a slow step toward me, his eyes flickering down to my lips before meeting my gaze again — soft, searching, and sure. Then, without a single word, he raised a hand to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering against my cheek. And just like that, with the softest breath between us, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine — tentative at first, like he was asking a question with his mouth, one I’d been waiting years to answer.

The kiss began like a sigh—soft, tentative, the kind of kiss that trembled with restraint and years of quiet longing. His lips brushed mine like a question, like he was asking, Is it really okay this time? Are you really mine again? And I answered with my mouth, tilting my head, kissing him back with everything I had. His hands framed my jaw, thumbs gently stroking the corners of my face as though he was afraid I might disappear if he didn’t hold me close enough.

But then something shifted.

That quiet ache between us deepened, catching fire. Our lips moved in sync with a hunger we hadn’t allowed ourselves to feel before. The kiss grew fuller, deeper. My back arched as his hand slid to the nape of my neck, pulling me in until there was no space left between us. Our breaths quickened, mingling in the hush of the room, and the only sounds were the soft, wet presses of our kisses and the way our sighs filled the air like silk unraveling.

When I tried to pull back, just to look at him—to admire the softness in his eyes, the mess of dark hair falling over his brow—Jaemin chased after me, catching my bottom lip between his teeth before whispering hoarsely against my mouth, “I want more.” The words sent heat rushing through me, pooling in my chest and blooming in my cheeks. I blinked up at him, breathless.

“Jaemin…” I whispered, caught somewhere between blushing and melting.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, over and over again, in between kisses that traced their way along my jaw, behind my ear, down the delicate slope of my neck. “So, so beautiful.” His voice was reverent, almost in awe, like he couldn’t believe I was real, that this moment was real. Each kiss he left was like a worship, a vow written in skin instead of ink.

His hands were gentle, exploring with care, his lips brushing across my collarbone, my shoulder, the curve of my waist—like he was memorizing every inch of me all over again. And all the while, our sighs mingled, low and intimate, rising and falling like waves lapping the shore. The air was thick with warmth and longing, and even as the world outside spun on, we stayed suspended in that moment—two hearts finally aligned again, speaking a language only we understood.

And as we tangled beneath the sheets, fingers laced and foreheads pressed close, the sounds of our kisses—soft, slow, then insistent again—echoed through the guestroom like a secret we were daring the world to keep. Every time I looked at him, he was already looking at me, like I was the only thing he’d ever wanted. And somehow, in between the hurried beats of our hearts and the quiet gasps that filled the room.

Minutes passed, and the air in the guestroom hung heavy with heat and breathless stillness. The room was dimly lit, cast in the soft glow of moonlight slipping through the half-drawn curtains, but it felt like it was burning from within—radiating with the remnants of everything we had just shared. Our bodies were wrapped in tangled sheets, limbs intertwined like ivy, the last sparks of our love-making still lingering on our flushed skin and parted lips. My heart was pounding, still echoing the rhythm we had created together, and our chests rose and fell in an unsteady harmony. Jaemin hovered above me for a moment longer, his hair damp with sweat, the sharp line of his jaw glistening, his eyes wide and soft as they took me in. It wasn’t lust that lingered in his gaze—it was reverence. Like he had just seen something sacred. Someone sacred.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips—now swollen and tender from all the kisses before—and whispered, “Thank you… for this.” His voice cracked just slightly, as though he was overwhelmed, not just by the night, but by the years, the history, everything that had led us here. I blinked back the heat behind my eyes and whispered back, “Thank you, too,” my fingers brushing along the slope of his shoulder, drawing him back to me. We stayed like that, chest to chest, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in. Our skin was damp and warm, still tingling, and our fingers traced slow, invisible shapes against each other’s backs and arms, like we were trying to memorize every curve, every freckle, every inch. Jaemin kissed me again—this time sweet, lazy, like a secret he was only sharing with me—and we sighed into it, smiling softly. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face into the crook of his neck as he pulled the sheets over us. And there, with our hearts finally full and our bodies utterly spent, we drifted into sleep—still tangled in each other, as though even in dreams, we couldn’t bear to let go.

[strljaem]

“IT’S RAINING HEAVILY OUTSIDE.”

💿 : a summer place, hollywood strings orchestra.

The night was already unsettling, with the rain pouring down in torrents and thunder booming overhead. I sat on my couch, trying to immerse myself in my favorite show, "Gilmore Girls," but every flash of lightning made me jump, my fear of thunder making it hard to stay calm. I munched on my popcorn, using it as a distraction from the storm outside. It was a bearable fear, one I could manage, but the persistent flashes and crashes kept me on edge.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, cutting through the noise of the storm and the television. I froze, popcorn halfway to my mouth, wondering who could possibly be visiting at this hour. It was only 6 PM, but the darkness outside made it feel much later. Putting the popcorn down, I slipped on my house bunny slippers and rushed to the window beside the door. Peeking out, I saw my boy best friend, Jaemin, standing there, completely drenched from the rain, his school backpack still on his shoulders.

(please play the music at this part lol trust me no regrets)

I gasped and hurried to open the door. As I did, everything seemed to slow down. The sight of him standing there, hair plastered to his forehead, his dark green jacket soaked through, made my heart skip a beat. He looked at me with an expression that was hard to read, and for a moment, it felt like the raindrops were suspended in midair. Time stopped, and it was just the two of us in that moment. My brain struggled to process what I was feeling, a strange mixture of surprise and something else I couldn't quite identify.

"I'm sorry, can I come in for a while?" Jaemin asked, his voice hesitant, snapping me out of my trance.

"Of course, come in," I said quickly, stepping aside to let him in. He walked past me, leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor. I shut the door behind him, my eyes following his every move. I had never felt this way about him before. Jaemin had always been my best friend since we were children, but tonight, something felt different. He tried to dry himself off, looking a bit embarrassed about the mess he was making.

"I was on my way home from the library, working on assignments," he explained, shaking water from his hair. "The rain started pouring suddenly, and I forgot my umbrella. I could barely see the road, so I decided to stop by here until it stops."

I nodded, still somewhat in a daze. "You should take a shower and change into some dry clothes. You might catch a cold otherwise."

He chuckled softly, scratching the back of his head. "Really? Thanks. I guess I'll need to borrow some clothes then."

I paused, my inner voice screaming. He had never worn my clothes before, despite how close we were. "Yeah, come on," I said, scoffing to cover my nerves, and pulled his hand to lead him to my bedroom. I showed him the bathroom and handed him a towel, then rummaged through my drawers for a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants.

"Oh wait," I said, suddenly remembering. "What about your-?" I trailed off, blushing furiously as my eyes darted downward.

Jaemin followed my gaze and burst out laughing. "It's fine, I'm a man!" he declared, flexing his biceps in a playful manner.

My face turned even redder. "Okay, okay! Now go and take a shower before you get a cold!" I pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door, my heart pounding. I was grateful my room was clean, or my mom would have killed me. My parents were out of the country on business, leaving me to take care of the house.

I headed back to the living room, slapping my cheeks to snap myself out of my flustered state. "Pull yourself together," I whispered to myself. I resumed watching TV, trying to focus on the show, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Jaemin.

A few minutes later, I heard my bedroom door open upstairs. I tried to ignore it, pulling out my phone to text a friend instead. But then I heard footsteps approaching, and before I knew it, a hand reached over and grabbed some of my popcorn. I jumped, startled, and Jaemin laughed.

"I thought you could give me some," he said, plopping down beside me on the couch. He looked... gorgeous, even in my oversized shirt and sweatpants. His brown hair was fluffed up from the towel, giving him a cute, boyish look.

"Be grateful, or I'd have left you out in the rain to catch a cold," I retorted, rolling my eyes.

Jaemin winced, pouting as he nudged my elbow. He was unusually quiet, which was unlike him. Normally, he'd be teasing me, taking ugly selfies on my phone, or causing some other mischief. Maybe he was just tired, I thought. We watched TV together in a comfortable silence, sharing the popcorn.

Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder shook the house, and the lights went out. I screamed, the popcorn scattering all over the floor. In my panic, I ended up clutching onto Jaemin, burying my face in his neck. His scent, a mix of my body wash and something uniquely him, was surprisingly comforting. I hugged him tightly, my arms around his neck, my legs tucked between his thighs.

"It's okay, it's okay," Jaemin murmured, his hand gently patting my back and caressing the back of my head. His touch was soothing, and slowly, my fear began to subside. I couldn't believe how different he seemed in this moment. Usually, he'd be teasing or playfully annoying me, but now he was being so tender and caring. It felt like a side of him I had never seen before, a romantic side.

As the lights flickered back on, I slowly pulled away, realizing with a jolt that I was practically on top of him. His arms were still around my waist, his hands resting on my shoulders. I looked up at him, our faces inches apart. His eyes were soft and warm, his smile gentle. My cheeks burned with embarrassment at my boldness, but Jaemin didn't seem to mind.

"Like what you're looking at?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

I pushed myself off of him, stumbling and falling off the couch. Jaemin reached out, concerned. "Hey, relax! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, trying to sound nonchalant as I picked myself up. I couldn't meet his eyes, too flustered by the whole situation.

"Are you shy?" he asked, his tone playful.

Gritting my teeth, I smacked his arm. "Shut up," I muttered, embarrassed.

He winced in mock pain, rubbing his arm. "Ouch."

Looking around, I saw the popcorn scattered all over the floor. I started picking it up, and Jaemin joined in, helping me gather the pieces. "Thanks," I said softly, smiling at him.

"No problem," he replied, his voice cool and calm. "But you should probably throw this away. It’s been on the floor for more than three seconds since you were chilling on top of me just now."

"You better shut up, otherwise i’ll drag you outside in the rain.” I yelled at him as Jaemin playfully ran away from me while laughing and still making fun of me.

[strljaem]

I love jaemin, I love music and discovering new songs so I LOVE your works thank you so much aargh I'm glad I came across your blog <33

awee this is so sweet of you!! i’m glad you like it!! thank you so much babe 😘😘💌💌

[strljaem]

I LOVE UR WRITING!!! 😘

AWEE THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE!! 🥰🥰

[strljaem]

“LOVE POTION.”

adapted by “the boy is mine” ariana grande’s music video.

💿 : the boy is mine, ariana grande.

The night hung heavy with anticipation as I stood in my dimly lit apartment, the air thick with my thoughts. I slid my long, slender hands over the kitchen cabinet, fingers trailing delicately over the cool, smooth surface until they reached the small glass bottle of pink sparkling love potion. My blonde hair was neatly pinned in a flower bun, and I adjusted my cat-shaped black-framed glasses, straightening my white blouse and smoothing down my black skirt. A smile curled on my lips as I envisioned tonight's plan: sneaking into Na Jaemin's apartment and using the potion to win his heart.

The small TV on the kitchen cabinet beside the sink hummed softly, the news reporter's voice a distant murmur. Suddenly, the words "newly elected mayor Na Jaemin is set to address the media any moment for a press conference" cut through the fog of my thoughts. I gasped, turning quickly to the TV and raising the volume. My eyes sparkled as the screen switched to his handsome face, framed perfectly by his blue dashing suit. His voice, deep and commanding, filled the room, making everything else blur. I was entranced, staring at him, my mind drifting into fantasies.

"...we have gathered the city’s overflow of stray cats. And we will release them, hungry into the streets, to combat this problem at its source."

His words snapped me back to reality. The plan to combat the rat infestation with stray cats seemed almost poetic in its simplicity and brilliance. "Thank you," Jaemin concluded, his face serene yet powerful.

"That's brilliant, so hot," I whispered, a smile spreading across my face. My moment of admiration was abruptly shattered by a sharp cracking sound. I whirled around to see the love potion bottle shattered on the floor, pink liquid glistening in the dim light. A cat, wide-eyed and guilty, darted out the open window. I squeaked, rushing to the floor to salvage my precious potion.

Carefully, I opened a drawer, retrieving a syringe. Kneeling, I began gathering the liquid and dust, painstakingly sucking it back into the syringe and transferring it into the bottle. It wasn't perfect, but it was more than enough. I couldn't let my carefully crafted potion go to waste.

With the bottle secure, I giggled, a thrill of excitement coursing through me. Hurrying to my closet, I rifled through the fabrics until I found the perfect black material, sleek and form-fitting. I was going to make a Catwoman suit. The idea was exhilarating. I ran to the living room, sat on the couch, and began sewing with feverish determination. Hours passed, the rhythmic hum of my sewing machine blending with the sultry tones of Ariana Grande's "The Boy is Mine" on the turntable.

Finally, the suit was complete. I stood before the mirror, admiring the way the fabric clung to my curves, accentuating my form. I looked dangerous and irresistible. I applied smokey black eye makeup, enhancing the mystery of my eyes, and tied my hair back into a sleek ponytail before donning the mask. A cat tail, the perfect final touch, swayed behind me as I moved.

My heart pounded with anticipation as I climbed out the window, the cool night air brushing against my skin. I moved across the rooftops with feline grace, the city sprawled out beneath me, every shadow and corner familiar. I knew exactly where Jaemin lived.

The journey was swift, my adrenaline propelling me forward. I arrived at his building, scaling the side with ease. His apartment was on the top floor, the large windows offering a glimpse of his world. I slipped inside silently, the darkness my ally.

I finally landed outside his window pane, crouched low, my senses alert. The kitchen was empty, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound. I sighed in relief, my breath catching as I saw him emerge from the bathroom. Na Jaemin looked so hot, his black jet hair drenched as if he had just taken a shower. He was wearing a white t-shirt, unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, revealing his toned arms. My mouth hung open at the sight, desire pooling in my veins.

Carefully, I opened the window, watching as he went back into the bathroom. This was my chance. I slipped inside, landing softly on the floor, and crawled towards the bathroom. The door was half-open, and through the crack, I saw him staring at the mirror, steam swirling around him. Oh god, he looked so hot, his plump lips, wet hair, and damp skin just for me.

As I pushed the door slightly, it creaked, and he turned around, eyes wide with surprise. I quickly hid myself, heart pounding. He stepped out of the bathroom, a glass of wine in his hand, and his eyes landed on me. I was sitting on his bed, legs crossed in a seductive pose, smiling at him.

“Hey,” I purred, my voice dripping with allure.

He was startled, fear flashing across his face. He dropped the glass of wine onto the floor. Thankfully, it didn’t cracked but it made a loud thunk noise. He tried to run, but I stood up on the bed, taking my bullwhip and throwing it around his feet. With a quick flick, he was pulled towards me, falling to the ground. I slowly reeled him in, my eyes never leaving his confused yet captivated gaze. At the same time, I was wondering why he didn’t even bother to tell me and let him go? Instead, he just played with my actions. He amazed me, that’s actually so hot of him.

As we made eye contact, the tension in the room became electric. I lowered myself to his level, crawling over him. Our faces were inches apart, breath mingling. He smelled just like wine, mixed perfectly with the scent of his masculine perfume, air thick with unspoken desire. I smiled, taking out the love potion. My hand reached out, cupping his cheek as I brought the bottle closer to his lips.

But before I could pour it into his mouth, his hand shot up, grabbing mine and the bottle. Our eyes locked, and the room seemed to shrink around us, the world narrowing to just the two of us. My eyebrows furrowed, confused by his sudden resistance. He looked deep into my soul, his gaze intense and unyielding.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he took off my eye mask, revealing my whole face. A smirk played on his lips as he leaned in closer. My heart raced, thinking he was going to kiss me. I closed my eyes, anticipation swirling inside me. But instead, I heard the shattering of glass as he threw the love potion against the wall.

I gasped. “What are-“

Then, his lips were on mine, claiming me with a fierce, possessive kiss. The world melted away, leaving just the two of us, tangled in a web of desire and danger. The kiss was a promise, a challenge, and an acceptance all at once. I melted into him, my hands clutching his shoulders, the heat between us scorching.

He placed me carefully on the wooden floor. When we finally pulled apart, his eyes were blazing with a mix of emotions. Both of us were out of breath by the passionate kiss. “What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice husky.

I hesitated. His eyes were looking worriedly into mine, searching for response. “You.” I breathed out, “Only you.” While tucking one of his hair behind his ears. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through me. He took my hands and kissed it. He leaned in and whispered on my ear, “Then, you’ll have to earn it.” he spoke in a low tone.

And so, the night unfolded, a dangerous dance of passion, power, and unspoken promises.

[strljaem]

“look at me, baby.”

💿: love on the brain, rihanna.

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the window, illuminating my study desk as I tapped away at my MacBook keyboard. My black-framed glasses perched on my nose, my eyebrows furrowed in concentration as I flipped through the pages of my assignment book. As a PhD student with a bachelor’s degree in computer science, my work was demanding and relentless. I was deep in the zone, completely absorbed in my research, swinging my legs absentmindedly on the chair, my hair tied back in a ponytail.

Hours had slipped by without my noticing. It was nearing 3 PM, and I had been glued to my desk for at least four hours. Na Jaemin, my fiancé, always found it endearing how seriously I took my studies. He would often peek in from the door, watching me with a fond smile without wanting to disturb my workflow. Today was no different; however, he seemed more determined to ensure I took a break.

Just as I decided to take a short break, closing my laptop and grabbing my phone to chat with friends about our assignment, I heard the familiar creak of the door opening. My eyes were still fixated on my phone screen, my fingers typing aggressively against the clock with the due date looming. Then, a deep, gentle voice called my name, making my heart skip a beat. Jaemin’s voice was like honey, sweet and soothing.

I turned to look at him. Jaemin stood at the door, his silver comma hair perfectly framing his smooth, baby-soft face. His plump red lips curled into a smile that was both gorgeous and cute. He wore a black sweatshirt and grey sweatpants, looking effortlessly attractive. "Can I come in?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief and warmth.

“Yes, come in,” I replied, trying to maintain my composure. He entered, carrying a tray of mangoes, my favorite fruit. My heart melted a little more. He knew exactly how to brighten my day. “Here, you should stop working and eat these,” he said, dragging a chair beside my study desk and sitting next to me. He began his familiar nagging, gentle yet serious, showing how much he cared about my well-being.

I put my phone down and began eating the mangoes, listening to his words of concern. My eyes stayed glued to the plate, feeling guilty for neglecting my health. His voice, although serious, was a testament to his love and care for me. When he finally asked, “Do you understand?” in that sweetest, gentle tone, I nodded without looking at him.

“Look at me, baby,” he said in a deeper tone, sending shivers down my spine. I paused, my cheeks heating up. Slowly, I turned to face him, my mouth full of mangoes, resembling a hamster with stuffed cheeks. He chuckled at my appearance, finding it irresistibly cute.

“I understood everything,” I mumbled, swallowing the mangoes quickly. “I’m sorry for neglecting my health sometimes.”

He just stared at me, his eyes soft. “It’s fine. My responsibility as your fiancé is to always take care of you,” he said, making my heart swell with love. I smiled and replied, “You also, don’t forget to take care of yourself, especially as an idol.” His chuckle in response was the most handsome sound I’d ever heard.

After finishing the mangoes, I thanked him and gave him a peck on the cheek. Jaemin blushed, smiling shyly. “I’ll get going; I have to pack for tomorrow,” he said, reminding me of his impending departure for another concert. We had discussed this before our engagement, and although I missed him when he was away, I supported his dreams wholeheartedly.

As he stood up, picking up the tray, our eyes locked. The air between us was thick with unspoken emotions. I felt flustered, unable to hold his gaze. Jaemin, noticing my discomfort, reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. His touch was electrifying, making my cheeks burn even more. He chuckled, knowing he had successfully made me blush, and then he said, “Bye-bye,” in the cutest tone, making me smile.

“Bye,” I replied, watching as he left the room, closing the door behind him. I took a deep breath, my heart still racing from our interaction. I covered my face with my hands, feeling a mix of shyness and joy. After a moment, I grabbed my water bottle, took a sip, and opened my MacBook again, a smile lingering on my lips. With renewed energy, I resumed my work, grateful for the love and support of my wonderful fiancé.

[strljaem]

240512 MARK (@ r_e__m___) IG Update

[strljaem]

“was it cute like me?"

💿 : dream a little dream of me, michael bublé.

Your love story with Jaemin began in the most magical way—at a concert, where you were lucky enough to get backstage passes. As a dedicated fan of NCT Dream, you'd always admired Jaemin from afar, never daring to dream that he'd notice you. But fate had different plans.

It was a warm summer night when you finally met Jaemin in person. You were backstage after the concert, the excitement still buzzing through the air. The moment he walked in, it was as if the world tilted in his direction. He was stunning in his casual attire, with his jet-black hair tousled from the energetic performance. When he spoke to you, it felt like the universe had conspired to bring you together. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and by the end of the night, you'd exchanged social media and phone numbers.

What followed were countless dates, conversations, late-night talks, and everything in between. You got to know each other in private, sharing your hopes, dreams, and even silly inside jokes. Jaemin was always attentive, his eyes lighting up every time he saw you. You soon became inseparable, often spending weekends exploring the city, trying new restaurants, or simply watching movies at home.

Jaemin's busy schedule as an idol and your rigorous studies for your PhD in computer science meant that time together was precious. But you both made it work, always finding ways to connect despite the distance. You met each other's families, and they welcomed you both with open arms. Jaemin's sweet personality won over everyone he met, and your intelligence and charm captivated his family.

Then came the wedding—a beautiful ceremony filled with love, laughter, and tears of joy. You and Jaemin were finally married, and it felt like a dream come true. The world seemed to shine a little brighter, and every moment with Jaemin was filled with happiness.

A year had passed since that magical day, and tonight was your first anniversary. Jaemin had reserved a grand restaurant for the occasion, a quiet, elegant place with dim lighting and soft music. He looked incredibly handsome that night, wearing a black jacket over a brown turtleneck. His jet-black hair was perfectly styled, and his smile could light up any room. You were equally stunning, with your long black hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a black blouse and black leggings. The YSL high heels he had gifted you for your birthday completed the look, adding a touch of sophistication.

As you entered the restaurant hand in hand, the waitress guided you to your reserved table. The ambiance was perfect, with a candle flickering softly between you. Jaemin looked at you with adoration in his eyes and said, "You're beautiful." You laughed and replied, "I know." He chuckled, and the warmth in his gaze was unmistakable.

During dinner, Jaemin shared stories about his preparation for The Dream Show 3 world tour. He seemed a bit down when he mentioned Renjun's temporary absence, and you nodded, understanding the bond between the members. "Call me as soon as you landed," you reminded him. He smiled and nodded, saying, "I'm going to miss you. Take care." You knew you'd miss him too, but you also knew you had your own work to focus on.

While eating your spaghetti, a memory from last night flashed through your mind. You'd had a dream about you and Jaemin having a baby—a cute little boy with your big brown eyes and Jaemin's nose. The scene in the dream was so vivid, you were in a beautiful garden, walking together. Jaemin was holding a stroller, while you held the baby in your arms. He gently caressed the baby's cheek as he slept, and you both laughed together, filled with happiness.

As you drifted into the memory, Jaemin noticed you spacing out and snapped his fingers in front of you. "Where have you been, darling?" he asked, concerned. You blinked back to reality and took a deep breath before saying, "I had a dream about us having a baby." Jaemin, who was chewing on a meatball, choked at your words, his eyes widening in surprise. You quickly handed him a glass of water, and he gulped it down, coughing a bit. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, and he gave you a playful glare.

"Aigoo, really! You had a dream? Was it cute like me?" he asked, trying to play it cool. You nodded and said, "Very. The baby is so cute. He has both of our features." Jaemin laughed nervously, looking down at his food as if avoiding eye contact. You raised an eyebrow at him, questioning his reaction. "What? Aren't you happy?" you asked, and he looked up at you with a mischievous grin. "Maybe it means you're ready to have a child," he teased.

You playfully smacked his arm, causing him to wince and pat it dramatically. "What if I say that I'm ready?" you asked, smirking. Jaemin's eyes widened at your response, and you saw a mixture of surprise and excitement in his expression. "Wow, so sexy," he replied, earning a scoff from you.

As you returned to your food, Jaemin suggested, "We'll see. Give me some time." You nodded, holding back your laughter, knowing he was trying to buy time. He mentioned that the world tour would go on until the end of the year, hinting that he'd have more time then. You nodded, twirling your pasta with your fork, and said, "Thank God." Jaemin pouted, and you burst into laughter at his reaction.

That night was filled with laughter, warmth, and the promise of a bright future together. You both knew that you had different paths to pursue—Jaemin with his idol career and you with your PhD—but your love was strong enough to weather any challenge. As you left the restaurant, hand in hand, you felt that you were both on a journey, one filled with love, adventure, and endless possibilities. And whatever the future held, you were ready to face it together.

[strljaem]

"I can't believe I ended up in here."

inspired by ; Transformers (2007)

💿 : my love, justin timberlake.

Na Jaemin sat in the back of his father’s yellow car, watching the rain streak across the windshield. He was nervous. He always got nervous when he saw you. You were the popular girl at school, known for your long wavy brown-black hair, beautiful light brown eyes, and a perfectly toned body that looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine. You had a kind, friendly personality, were athletic, and excelled in academics. Everyone liked you, but Jaemin was just a name in the background, someone who admired from afar but never quite had the courage to approach.

The rain made the school parking lot glisten, reflecting the yellow of Jaemin's car. He'd begged his dad for this car, hoping it would give him the confidence to make a move. But every time he saw you with Jeno, your boy best friend, his resolve crumbled. Jeno was one of the popular football players, always surrounded by a crowd of fans. He had a habit of gaslighting you, making you feel insignificant. Yet you remained friendly, going with the flow even when he treated you poorly.

One day, after school, Jaemin sat in his car, debating whether to approach you when he saw you with Jeno and your group of friends. You were laughing, but Jaemin sensed a hidden tension. He saw Jeno invite you into his pickup truck, and you agreed, though you didn’t seem as enthusiastic as usual. Something about the situation felt off, and Jaemin’s curiosity got the better of him. He decided to follow, keeping a safe distance.

The rain had stopped, but the clouds lingered as Jaemin tailed you and Jeno. The pickup led him to a secluded spot by the beach, under the shade of some trees. He parked a little farther back, watching as you got out of Jeno's truck, clearly agitated. Jeno followed you, pleading, but you brushed him off, yelling at him. Jaemin saw Jeno try to grab your hand, but you pushed him away, storming off toward the beach. Jeno kicked the dirt in frustration and got back into his truck, speeding off, leaving you alone.

Jaemin knew this was his chance. He started the car and drove slowly toward you, rolling down the window as he approached. He couldn't see your face at first, just your waist, dressed in a pink crop top and short jeans. You were holding a Prada sling bag, and your heels clicked against the pavement. Jaemin was a little flustered by the sight but lowered his gaze to catch your attention.

"Hey, do you want to come in for a ride?" he asked, trying to sound casual despite the nervousness in his voice.

You turned to him, still fuming from your argument with Jeno, but you didn't want to be rude. You nodded and got into the car without saying a word, staring out the window. Jaemin smiled to himself, glad that he'd finally gotten you in his car. He started driving, but the silence between you was heavy. He glanced over at you, still leaning against the window, and felt a pang of anxiety.

"I can't believe I ended up in here," you said, breaking the silence, but your words were heavy with frustration.

Jaemin's heart sank. "I'm sorry. If you're uncomfortable, I can stop and let you out here," he offered, genuinely concerned.

You shook your head. "No, no, it's not your fault. It's fine. Thank you for offering me a ride," you replied, flashing him a quick smile. Jaemin's heart fluttered at the sight of your smile. He looked away, his cheeks flushing, and focused on the road.

The car ride continued in relative silence until you broke it with a question. "What's your name again? I know we go to the same school, but..." You trailed off, pretending to forget his name.

"Jaemin. My name's Jaemin," he replied, a little stutter in his voice.

"Oh, right, Jaemin. Sorry, I'm really bad with names," you said with a sheepish smile. "I'm—"

"You're y/n," he interrupted, almost too quickly.

You blinked, surprised that he knew your name. But then you remembered you were one of the most popular people at school; of course, he'd know who you were. You laughed it off, trying to lighten the mood.

The car continued down the road until, suddenly, it stalled. Jaemin panicked, trying to restart it, but it wouldn't turn over. He glanced at you with a worried expression, giving a nervous chuckle. You sighed and stepped out of the car, tying your hair in a bun as you walked to the front. Jaemin followed, watching as you opened the hood and started inspecting the engine. He was impressed by how effortlessly you checked the components, explaining what might be wrong, but he couldn't hear a word you were saying. He was too focused on the way your hair moved with the breeze and how easily you maneuvered around the engine.

"Jaemin?" you called, snapping him back to reality. He looked at you, flustered. "Were you listening to me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he said, though it was clear he hadn't heard a thing. You rolled your eyes playfully and told him to try starting the car again. He got in and turned the key, and the engine roared back to life. Jaemin cheered, and you smiled, closing the hood and getting back in the car.

"My dad owns a mechanic shop, so I've learned a thing or two about cars," you explained, brushing your hands together to remove any dirt. Jaemin nodded, impressed. He couldn't believe he was fanboying over someone who seemed to be good at everything.

Jaemin started driving again, both of you chatting about school and friends. He made a few jokes, and you laughed, making him feel more at ease. When he finally pulled up to your house, Jaemin couldn't help but stare at you as you prepared to leave. You bit your lip and smiled, “Thank you,” escaping your lips with the sweetest tone ever that actually gave Jaemin the feeling that he would kneel and propose to you on the spot.

"No problem," he replied, his heart racing, but he acted cool. You winked at him before getting out of the car, your hips swaying as you walked toward your front door. Jaemin watched, unable to tear his eyes away. When you disappeared inside, he let out a cheer, turning on the radio to Justin Timberlake's "My Love," feeling on top of the world as he drove away.

[strljaem]

“we were pretty dumb, weren't we?”

this is based on a scene from Tangled 💛

The campfire crackled softly, its flickering flames casting warm shadows across the trees that encircled our campsite. The sky above was a deep navy, stars faintly twinkling like distant campfires of their own, and the smell of pine mingled with the smoky scent of burning wood. Jaemin and I sat on a couple of old logs that we’d found around the site, our feet stretched out towards the fire to soak in the heat. Marshmallows roasted on sticks in our hands, slowly caramelizing and puffing up.

"Remember the time we tried to build a treehouse?" Jaemin chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It was supposed to be our secret hideout, but the thing collapsed before we even got the walls up."

I laughed, watching the marshmallow on my stick catch fire and quickly blowing it out. "Yeah, I still can't believe we didn't get hurt. We were pretty dumb, weren't we?"

"Definitely," he replied, grinning as he took a bite of his charred marshmallow. "But it was fun. We thought we were so clever, planning to make a whole hideout from scratch with just some old boards and a hammer."

We shared a laugh, reminiscing about the countless misadventures we'd had over the years. We'd been best friends since kindergarten, inseparable from the moment we'd met. It was a bond that had always felt unbreakable, like family. There was never any sense of romantic tension between us; it was pure friendship. A bond built on trust, shared memories, and the simple joy of being around each other.

But tonight, something felt different. It wasn't that we suddenly felt any kind of romantic feelings—it was more like the air around us had shifted. The tension wasn't uncomfortable, just palpable, like the silent understanding that our friendship had reached a new level of depth.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked, my voice softer as I watched the fire. Jaemin turned to look at me, his expression immediately attentive. He nodded, and I took a deep breath. "I used to have critical eczema when I was younger. It was really bad. I had to deal with it for years, and it left a lot of scars."

Jaemin's eyes softened with concern as he listened. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with genuine empathy. "I never knew."

I nodded, the memories flooding back. "It was hard. It felt like my skin was betraying me. I used to scratch a lot, and I still have some scars from it." I paused, then decided to show him what I meant.

I slid my hair off my shoulders, letting it fall behind my neck, revealing the small scars along my collarbone. I glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes widened slightly with surprise. His gaze was gentle, concerned, and he didn't say a word, just listened as I explained.

Then, I slid my shirt off my shoulder, exposing more of the scars that ran across my skin. I could feel Jaemin's eyes on me, his lips slightly parted in shock at my boldness. I didn't even realize I was exposing so much skin to him, someone I was so close to, but I felt safe with him. It was like showing him a part of me that I’d kept hidden for so long.

"These are from scratching after showers," I explained, pointing to a particularly noticeable scar. Jaemin remained silent, just watching me with a look that was both fascinated and sympathetic. I pulled up my skinny jeans to reveal some scars on my legs, the shiny, smooth skin accentuated by the light of the fire. The moment felt intensely personal, and I couldn't help but notice Jaemin's expression change. He seemed caught off guard, like he wasn't sure how to react.

"Hey, you've been somewhere else just now?" I teased, chuckling at his sudden silence. Jaemin blinked and shook his head, snapping back to reality.

"What? No, I'm fine," he said quickly, his voice a little higher than usual. I saw him gulp nervously, and I couldn't help but laugh softly at his reaction.

"Oh, I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable—" I started, but Jaemin quickly cut me off.

"No, no, it's totally fine," he said, shaking his head. "We're close enough. It's just... we've never really talked about things like this before. It's... touching."

I nodded, feeling the warmth of the fire on my skin and the warmth of our friendship in my heart. There was something comforting about sharing our vulnerabilities with each other, about breaking down the barriers we'd never even noticed were there. As we sat there, staring into each other's eyes, I couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was something more to our bond than just friendship. But I wasn't ready to admit it yet, and neither was he.

We both burst into laughter at the same time, the tension easing as quickly as it had come. It was a great time for us—one of those rare moments where you feel completely at peace with someone, where everything just feels right.

"Thanks for being here," I said, smiling at him. "I couldn't imagine anyone else I'd rather share this with."

Jaemin grinned, nudging me with his shoulder. "Same here. You're my best friend, and nothing's going to change that."

As we sat there, marshmallows forgotten, I knew that no matter what happened in the future, our bond would always be strong. Whether it stayed as just friends or became something more, I was grateful to have him by my side.

[strljaem]

“because it's fun watching you get flustered.”

adapted by ; “my demon” kdrama.

💿 : drunk in love, beyoncé ft. jay-z.

The fight between Jaemin and me had been brewing for days. Tension simmered beneath the surface, waiting to explode at the smallest provocation. It finally did, with a remark from him that was more biting than usual, igniting a storm of angry words between us. His usual cocky smirk faded as I shot back with just as much venom. But then I crossed a line—mentioning something that hit too close to home. Jaemin's eyes turned cold, his jaw clenched, and he grabbed his jacket, leaving the apartment without another word.

The silence that followed was unbearable. The once lively and cozy apartment felt cavernous without him. The cluttered kitchen with his unfinished coffee cups and the living room where he liked to watch late-night dramas with me felt eerily empty. I tried to focus on work, meeting deadlines and attending meetings, but my thoughts kept drifting back to him. His absence was a heavy weight on my chest.

Days passed without a single message or call. It was as if Jaemin had disappeared from my life. I knew he was likely at his company, but I had too much pride to reach out first. I kept telling myself that if he wanted to come back, he would. Yet, every evening, I found myself pacing the living room, glancing at my phone, hoping for a notification that never came.

After a particularly restless night, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to see him, even if it meant confronting him at his company. I spent extra time getting ready, picking out a tailored black blazer over a crisp white blouse. My skinny jeans hugged my legs, and I wore my favorite black stilettos to add a touch of authority. I was determined to maintain my composure and not let him see how much I was affected by his absence.

The drive to Jaemin's company felt longer than usual. I parked in the underground garage and took the elevator to the main lobby. The building was a towering structure of glass and steel, its modern design gleaming in the evening light. As I stepped out of the elevator, the sheer grandeur of the lobby struck me—white marble floors, high ceilings, and intricate light fixtures that cast a warm glow. A massive chandelier hung in the center, casting patterns of light across the room.

The receptionist recognized me and gave me a polite nod as I walked toward the private elevators leading to the executive offices. The hallway was dimly lit, with black walls contrasting sharply with the brightness of the lobby. It was almost eerie, and my heels echoed loudly as I made my way to Jaemin's office.

His office was behind a large glass door, and as I pushed it open, I was greeted by a room that was both grand and imposing. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a huge leather sofa sat beneath it. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with dark-colored volumes, and a grand piano sat in one corner. The atmosphere was heavy, almost oppressive, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

Jaemin's CEO desk stood at the far end, a large nameplate reading "Na Jaemin" carved into a metal plaque. Despite the familiar setting, the room felt different—like something had changed. I walked slowly, taking in the scene. The silence was overwhelming, and I could almost hear my own heartbeat. As I approached the bookshelves, my fingers grazed along the spines of the books. Everything was meticulously arranged, each book perfectly aligned.

One book, in particular, caught my eye—a dark green volume that seemed slightly out of place. I reached to pull it from the shelf, but as I did, a hand pushed it back forcefully, making my heart jump. I turned, startled, and there was Jaemin, standing just inches away.

He looked different from the last time I'd seen him. His jet-black hair was wet, falling across his forehead, and he wore a blue cardigan with gray sweatpants. His chest was exposed, revealing his chiseled abs. His eyes had a dangerous glint, and he crossed his arms as he stared at me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and edged with annoyance.

I swallowed, trying to regain my composure. "I came to see why you haven't been home," I replied, attempting to sound confident despite the racing of my heart.

Jaemin's lips curled into a smirk. "I figured you needed some space to cool off," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You seemed pretty angry last time we talked."

"That's because you were being impossible," I shot back, my irritation rising. "You just left without a word!"

He shrugged, still maintaining that infuriating smirk. "Maybe I needed a break from the constant nagging," he retorted.

I felt my temper flare, but I kept it in check. "So, is this what you do when you need a break? Lock yourself in your office?" I gestured around the room, emphasizing the emptiness.

Jaemin's smirk widened. "It's quiet here. No one to bother me," he said, his tone teasing.

I crossed my arms, not willing to back down. "Well, it's time to stop hiding and come back home," I said firmly. "Or do you plan on staying here forever?"

Jaemin's eyes flickered with amusement. "Maybe I will," he said with a playful shrug. "I kind of like it here."

I was about to retort when I noticed the golden necklace around his neck—a demon face pendant that seemed almost out of place given his casual attire. It was a stark contrast to his otherwise relaxed look. Jaemin followed my gaze and raised an eyebrow.

"Pervert," he said with a smirk, noticing I had been staring at his abs.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, but I quickly regained my composure. "Why do you have to make everything into a joke?" I shot back, my irritation showing.

Jaemin chuckled softly. "Because it's fun watching you get flustered," he replied, his voice smooth and teasing.

I took a step back, crossing my arms in defiance. "Fine, then stay here if you want," I said, turning to leave. "But don't expect me to come running after you again."

I reached for the door, but it was locked. I frowned and tried to turn the doorknob again, but it wouldn't budge. Jaemin leaned against the bookshelves, watching me with amusement.

"Why'd you lock the door?" I demanded, my frustration growing.

"Because I knew you'd try to leave without a proper conversation," he said, his tone almost playful.

I felt my anger boiling over. "Unlock it now," I insisted, my voice sharp. "Or I'll scream."

Jaemin laughed softly. "Scream all you want," he said, his eyes gleaming. "No one's here except us."

I was about to yell when Jaemin teleported in front of me, his hand wrapping around my waist and his other hand covering my mouth. The sudden closeness made my heart race, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. His eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the hint of golden light in them—a sign of his demon nature.

"Shh," he whispered, his voice low and gentle. "I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to hurt you."

His hand slid from my mouth to my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel his heart beating against my chest, and the intensity of his gaze was overwhelming. I stuttered, trying to keep my cool. "It's fine," I said softly. "Just... let me go. I'll wait for you at home."

Jaemin hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching mine. But then he released me, stepping back with a slight smile. "We'll see if I come back," he said, teasingly. "Don't get your hopes up."

I rolled my eyes and turned to unlock the door, feeling my cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger. "Whatever," I muttered, opening the door and storming out. As I walked down the hallway, I could still feel his touch on my waist, and my heart was racing from the encounter.

The drive back home was filled with a mix of emotions—anger, confusion, and something else I couldn't quite place. The way Jaemin had held me, the intensity of his gaze—it was different from the way he had been during our arguments. It was almost tender, yet still teasing in his own infuriating way.

When I arrived back at the apartment, I felt a surge of frustration. I had expected him to be contrite, to apologize and agree to come home, but he was as infuriatingly confident as ever. I wasn't sure if he was coming back, and that uncertainty gnawed at me. Despite my anger, I knew that if he showed up at the door, I wouldn't be able to turn him away.

But Jaemin was unpredictable, and I wasn't sure what he would do next. Would he stay at his company, enjoying the solitude and quiet, or would he come back to our shared home, ready to make amends? As I sat in the empty apartment, waiting, I knew one thing for sure—Jaemin had a way of keeping me on edge, and I hated that I couldn't seem to stay angry at him for long.

[strljaem]

i want him it’s no joke

© catmint

[strljaem]

“i love you”

i was listening to saturn, sza while writing this ;)

I sat on my bed, my back pressed against the cushy pillows, a hand over my forehead, as if that would somehow contain the tidal wave of tears that had come rushing out after hours of battling with my Add Maths homework. “Saturn” by SZA played softly through my earbuds, a sweet balm on my frayed nerves. The dimly lit room offered a quiet solace, the faint glow of the streetlamp seeping through the floral curtains hanging from the window beside my bed. It was just me, the music, and the enveloping darkness—a cocoon where the world couldn’t reach me.

I closed my eyes, letting the soft melody carry me away from algebraic formulas and unending equations. The song was like a gentle lullaby, coaxing me into calm. But then, I heard a tap—a faint, rhythmic knock on my window. At first, I thought it might be part of the song, but I knew that wasn’t right; I’d listened to “Saturn” so many times this year that I knew every beat, every note, every nuance.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and saw him. Na Jaemin, my boyfriend, standing outside the window, smiling and waving at me. I almost screamed, my hand shooting to my mouth. He looked as stunning as ever, his hair styled perfectly even in the dim light, his eyes bright with mischief. His smile was the kind that could light up a room—or, in this case, a backyard—and his white t-shirt hung loosely on his broad shoulders.

I scrambled to turn off my MP3 player and slowly opened the window. “What are you doing here? How did you get up h—” I started to ask, but he cut me off with a grin.

“I climbed up,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He had that easygoing charm, the kind that could make you forget you were in trouble, even when you most definitely were.

I stared at him, my heart racing, unable to believe he was here. His presence felt like a splash of color in my otherwise monotonous night. He looked at me with those piercing eyes, the kind that made it hard to look away. Before I knew it, I was reaching out and grabbing his hands, pulling him into my room. He stumbled slightly and landed on my bed with a thump, laughing as he did. It felt surreal, having him here, in my space. I quickly closed the window, making sure no one saw him, then turned to check if the door was locked—thankfully, it was.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice low. He stretched out on my bed, his gaze wandering around the room, settling on my cluttered desk with its piles of papers, pens, and my calculator.

“Had a tough night?” he asked, his voice gentle. I couldn’t help but laugh nervously.

“Yeah,” I replied, not trusting myself to say more. It was too strange, too wonderful, having him here. I tried to steady my breathing, but the way he looked at me with those warm eyes made it impossible. He leaned over and patted my head, his hand sliding down to caress my cheek.

“You’ve worked hard. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice low and intimate. My cheeks flushed, and I playfully pushed his hand away, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Thank you, i guess,” I scoffed, trying to play it cool, but my heart was racing. He laughed at my reaction, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“So, what brings you here?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from my embarrassment.

“We’re neighbours, remember?” he replied with a wink. “I wanted to spend some time with you. I’ve been so busy with dance practice lately.” As he spoke, he reached out and gently caressed my hands, his touch sending shivers through me.

The way he looked at me made it hard to stay composed. It was like a magnetic force, pulling us closer. I tried to joke to break the tension. “Why, do you want to sleep with me?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

Jaemin was caught off guard for a moment, but then he flashed that dazzling smile. “Yeah, how did you know? I was thinking about that all day,” he replied, still smiling. I widened my eyes, pretending to be shocked.

“Seriously?” I said, trying to keep a straight face. He laughed, his laugh infectious and full of warmth.

“Relax, we’re not going to do anything. I’m not that kind of boy,” he said with a playful smirk, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Besides, I know how strict your parents are about you having boys in your room.”

His words made me wish I could tell him how much I wanted to kiss him right then and there, but I had to keep my composure. “Fine, since you’re already in your pajamas, it’s perfect,” I replied, pulling him down to lay beside me. He seemed taken aback by my boldness but went along with it.

“Heh, slow down, sweetheart,” he teased, but he stretched out beside me, his presence warm and comforting. We talked about everything and nothing, our words weaving into a heart-to-heart conversation as we hugged and cuddled. We said “I love you” to each other, the words like a soft echo in the quiet room.

Then, Jaemin asked, “Your parents won’t barge in tomorrow morning, will they?” His concern was genuine.

“No, I already locked the door,” I replied, feeling reassured. We settled in for the night, the warmth of his body against mine. I never thought I’d fall asleep with my boyfriend beside me, but there we were, holding each other close. I fell asleep to the sound of his breathing, slow and steady, his arms around me like a protective shield.

The next morning, I was the first to wake up. I checked my phone—7 a.m. It was still early, and thank God it was Saturday. My hair was a mess from tossing and turning all night, and I was worried I might have accidentally kicked Jaemin while I slept. I tried to move without waking him, but our hands were still intertwined, and I couldn’t help but be flustered by how close we were. I glanced at Jaemin, his eyes still closed, his long eyelashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks. His lips were slightly parted, soft and inviting.

Before I could think about it, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his, a gentle kiss that felt like a rush of warmth. He reacted instantly, pulling me closer with his hand on the back of my head, his lips parting to let my tongue explore. It was a slow, deep kiss, one that made my heart race and my body melt into his. His hand slid down to my waist, caressing it gently, and I couldn’t help but feel lost in his touch.

The sounds of our kisses filled the room, a soft symphony of passion. We lost ourselves in each other, the moment stretching into eternity. Then, I pulled away, gasping for air, laughing at how breathless we both were. Jaemin laughed too, his smile contagious.

“I didn’t expect that,” I said, my voice still breathy. His smile slowly faded, replaced by an intimate gaze that made my heart skip a beat. He pulled me back in for another kiss, his lips claiming mine with a fervor that made everything else disappear.

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, his warm breath sending shivers through me. The kiss deepened, his hands moving over my back, and I knew I was in trouble—the kind of trouble I never wanted to escape from.

But then, a sharp knock on my door shattered the moment. “Y/N, are you awake? Come and have breakfast downstairs,” my mom’s voice called from the other side of the door. We both jumped, breaking apart. I felt a rush of panic, trying to keep my cool as I responded.

“Yeah, Mom, I’ll be down in a minute,” I said, my voice shaky.

“Don’t forget we have to leave in an hour,” my mom reminded me, her voice fading as she walked away. I widened my eyes, realizing I hadn’t packed for the family gathering at my aunt’s house. Jaemin looked at me, his eyes full of curiosity.

“Where are you going later?” he asked, leaning in closer.

I quickly explained, and he hummed in agreement. We sat on the bed, trying to catch our breath. Then, we remembered the kiss, and we both smiled, unable to contain our laughter.

“Thanks for the night… and…” I said, trailing off, not sure how to finish the sentence. Jaemin raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for my response.

“And… the hugs,” I finally said, bursting into laughter. He pouted, pretending to be disappointed.

“What about the…” he said in an aegyo tone, making kissy noises with his lips. I lightly smacked his arm, trying not to laugh too hard.

“I think you have to leave now, or you’ll get caught,” I said, glancing at the window. Jaemin laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later, okay? Call me when you’ve arrived at your aunt’s house,” he said, carefully opening the window. He looked outside to make sure the coast was clear, then turned back to me. I waved him goodbye, and he blew me a kiss before slipping out the window.

After he left, I closed the window and let out a sigh of relief, still remembering the night and the kiss. My mother shouted from downstairs, “Hurry up!” I panicked and ran to tidy up my room, especially the mess i’ve made on my study desk last night.

[strljaem]

“let’s see what we have at home”

lol idk how to feel about this one. 🧍🏻

💿 : make you mine, madison beer

The morning started like any other, with meetings and emails piling up, and my usual cup of coffee not doing much to quell the rising tide of anxiety. The company was growing, deadlines were tight, and I had a department to manage. But the real pressure came from knowing that Jaemin, my husband, was the CEO, and we had to keep our relationship under wraps.

No one knew we were married. To everyone at work, Jaemin was the stoic, intimidating CEO with a penchant for precision and results. His sleek suits, usually charcoal or navy blue, fit him perfectly. The jet-black hair styled in a slick-back comma always seemed to catch the light at just the right angle, making him look every bit the powerful executive. His eyes, though often icy and serious in meetings, held a warmth that only I knew.

That morning, I was heading to the 18th floor, where my office was located, and had a stack of important files in my arms. The elevator was crowded when the doors opened, but I noticed him immediately. Jaemin stood at the back, his broad shoulders filling out the suit jacket, his height towering over everyone else. His gaze was intense, fixed on me as if he were trying to say something without words. Then, as if realizing he was staring, he blinked and looked away, pretending to focus on his phone.

I stepped into the elevator, squeezing into the small space available. The mixed scent of cologne and perfume filled the air, and the hum of conversation died down as the doors closed. I was grateful for the space, but I couldn't help feeling the nervous energy coursing through me. My legs felt weak, my palms dampening with sweat.

When the elevator dinged at the 10th floor, most of the people stepped out, leaving only me and Jaemin. The doors closed, and the silence was deafening. I was standing with my back to him, clutching the files like they were a lifeline. The air felt charged, like a storm was brewing. I fidgeted with the edges of the papers, trying to calm my racing heart.

Suddenly, I felt a hand reach around and grab mine. It was swift and gentle, but it caught me off guard, and I stumbled backward. My head landed squarely on his muscular chest. I looked up, my breath hitching as I saw his eyes. They were warm, a complete contrast to the icy glare he usually wore. He smiled down at me and softly said, "Hi."

"Hi," I replied, my voice almost a whisper. His arm was still around me, holding me steady.

Then he leaned in and kissed me. It started gentle, as if he was afraid to break the spell, but then it grew firm, passionate. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, my entire body tingling. I laughed in the middle of the kiss, pulling away and gasping for air. I lightly smacked his arm. "Later, at home."

Jaemin smirked. "Let's see what we have at home," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Jaemin released me and stepped out like nothing happened, his professional mask firmly in place. I was left standing there, flustered and trying to catch my breath. It took me a moment to realize I'd missed my floor.

[strljaem]

“it's just a contract...”

inspired by : “My Demon”

💿 : our night is more beautiful than your day, newjeans

💿 : say you love me, sam kim

It was one of those late-night board meetings. The kind where everyone wears grim faces and pretends they're still interested in the quarter's projections. You were seated at the head of the mahogany table, flipping through endless reports, nodding intermittently as your assistant whispered key details into your ear. You were the youngest CEO in the history of the company—sharp, focused, and notoriously hard to read. But tonight, you couldn't concentrate. Not because of the numbers, but because of the empty seat at the other end of the table.

Na Jaemin. The demon you'd entered into a contract marriage with. The demon who was supposed to be by your side, helping you navigate the treacherous waters of corporate politics. Yet he was nowhere to be seen.

The meeting ended, and you headed home to the penthouse apartment you'd unwillingly shared with him for the past six months. The high-rise view of the city was spectacular, but tonight, it felt hollow. His absence made you restless, uneasy. The moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the living room's minimalist decor. You loosened your tie and sank into the plush white sofa, hoping he'd walk through the door any minute.

It wasn't always like this. The contract marriage had been a strategic move—your father had struck a deal with Jaemin's clan, seeking their support for a major business deal. Neither of you had been thrilled about it. Jaemin, with his cool exterior and smug attitude, had made it clear he wasn't interested in playing house. His dark hair was styled to perfection, his sharp jawline accentuating his distant gaze. And those eyes—deep and enigmatic, like he could see right through you. A demon's eyes.

Your relationship was a constant battle of egos. Sarcasm, snide remarks, and endless teasing. Yet, there were moments when you'd catch him staring at you with an unexpected softness. Like the time you tripped over a power cable at a company event, and he caught you just before you hit the ground. He'd smirked and said, "If you wanted to fall for me, you could've just asked." But his grip on your arm was gentle, almost tender.

You'd both shared small glimpses of vulnerability, but neither of you had acknowledged it. And then, tonight, the argument happened. It was over something trivial—he'd left his shoes in the hallway, and you'd tripped over them. But it quickly escalated into a shouting match about respect, boundaries, and how neither of you wanted to be in this arrangement. He'd stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Hours passed. You'd checked your phone a dozen times, but there was no message, no call. The city buzzed with life below, but it felt distant, disconnected. You'd never admit it, but you were worried. Where could he have gone?

At 2 a.m., you heard the door creak open. You stayed perfectly still, the room cloaked in darkness. Jaemin tiptoed in, his steps barely audible on the hardwood floor. He thought you were asleep, and you could tell he was trying to be quiet, not wanting to disturb you. But you were wide awake, waiting.

You clicked on the lamp beside you, and the sudden light made him jump. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he looked like a child caught sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

"Where did you go?" you asked, but the words came out sharper than you'd intended. Na Jaemin stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the soft light from the hallway. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a hint of vulnerability, something you rarely saw in him.

He froze, his usual bravado melting away. "Just out," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but his eyes darted around the room, avoiding your gaze.

"Out where?" you pressed, your arms crossed.

Jaemin stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on you. It was infuriating—he wasn't defending himself, wasn't arguing back, just staring with those deep, dark demon eyes that seemed to see straight through you. The longer he stayed silent, the angrier you became. You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

"I don't know what your deal is," you stood and continued, unable to stop yourself, "but you can't just disappear whenever you feel like it! This is supposed to be a partnership!"

Jaemin didn't respond. He simply stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes softened. The contrast was maddening. You knew he was listening, but his calm demeanor only fueled your anger. You threw your hands up in exasperation and turned to leave, storming past him toward the bedroom.

As you walked by, Jaemin's hand suddenly grabbed yours. It felt like time slowed down—the warmth of his touch caught you off guard. The apartment was dimly lit, with only the faint glow from the city outside filtering through the windows. Lights from the other high-rise apartments twinkled like distant stars, casting a romantic yet tense atmosphere in the room. Your hair, flowing over your shoulders, brushed against his face as he pulled you back. He grabbed you by the waist, his grip firm yet gentle.

Jaemin's eyes bore into yours, and you felt a flutter in your chest. He noticed your nervous look, then he smirked slightly, his usual cool expression softened by the intimate moment. "Are you flustered?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. “No…can you just let me go?” you said. But that didn’t affect him.

You tried to regain your composure, but his proximity made it difficult to think clearly. Your heart raced, and your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders. The way he looked at you—it was almost as if he was seeing you for the first time. His warm breath caressed your skin, and you could hear your heartbeats syncing together. He leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips were so close that you could feel the heat emanating from them.

Before you could process, he kissed you, gently at first, then with more intensity as if he was testing the waters. You stood still, unsure of how to respond, but when he pinched your waist softly, you gasped, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth, exploring with a passion that caught you off guard. The kiss was intense, his movements smooth and confident, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment while both your bodies were moving in sync. as if both of you were slow dancing.

You pulled away, slightly pushed him while gasping for air, and Jaemin backed off slightly, wiping his lips with his thumb. He chuckled lightly, tasting the hint of your chapstick. "That was..." he began, but you were too shocked to let him finish. What was happening? Why did it feel like this? You hit him on the arm, not too hard, but enough to make him wince. You tried to walk away, Jaemin snickered at your actions so he just followed your back. Then you ran to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

"Aigoo! Let me in!" Jaemin called from the other side of the door. "Why are you so shy? We're married, remember?", he said in a playful tone. That actually pissed you off, in a good way.

You slid down to the floor, your back against the door, and touched your lips. It was just a contract marriage, wasn't it? But why did it feel so different now? You flashbacked to the first time you'd met Jaemin, when you’d accidentally stolen his tattoo—the mark that connected him to his demonic powers. He had been furious, grabbing your wrist and demanding you return it, his eyebrows furrowed in anger, his eyes flashing with irritation. But now, those same eyes looked at you with a warmth that was completely unexpected. What had changed?

"Open the door!" Jaemin shouted, knocking persistently. "You know you liked it! Don't be like that!"

You sighed, unsure of what to make of this new dynamic between you. The kiss, the way he pulled you in, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you—all of it was a stark contrast to the cold, distant Jaemin you'd known at first. Were you falling for him? Was he falling for you?

"I'll sleep outside if you don't let me in!" he threatened, but you knew he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You whispered to yourself, "It's just a contract..." But your heart told you otherwise.

As Jaemin continued banging on the door, you wondered what the future held for both of you. Would you find a way to reconcile your differences, or was this just a fleeting moment? Either way, you knew one thing for sure: nothing would ever be the same again.

“y/n…let me in…” but you chose to ignore him.

[strljaem]

“the honeymoon”

inspired by ; The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 1

💿 : never be the same, camila cabello

As Jaemin and I waded into the ocean, the waves gently lapping at our feet, the night seemed to come alive with a quiet symphony. The rustling of palm fronds mingled with the distant chirps of nocturnal birds, and the moon cast a shimmering silver glow over the water's surface. I could feel the sand shift beneath my toes with each step, and the coolness of the ocean began to creep up my legs, causing me to shiver.

Jaemin was ahead of me, his silhouette outlined against the moonlit backdrop. His black hair was slicked back from the humidity, revealing the chiseled contours of his jawline. He turned to look at me, his eyes reflecting the ethereal light. In that moment, they weren't just amber—they were radiant, almost golden, with an intensity that drew me in like a moth to a flame.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice low and melodic, carrying across the water like a gentle breeze. His words were laced with concern, but there was a playful undertone that made me smile.

"A little," I replied, hugging myself to stay warm. I was dressed in just a simple tank top and shorts, having forgotten to pack a swimsuit in my rush to prepare for our honeymoon. I felt exposed, but Jaemin's gaze was warm and reassuring.

He stepped closer, his movements graceful and fluid, as if he were gliding over the water. He wrapped his arms around me, his cool skin sending a chill down my spine. "Better?" he asked, his breath brushing against my ear. I nodded, the warmth of his embrace contrasting with the coldness of his touch.

We stood there for a moment, holding each other, the waves gently crashing against our legs. It felt like time had stopped, leaving only the two of us in this quiet, secluded paradise. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. Though his heart didn't beat, there was a calmness in his presence that put me at ease.

Jaemin leaned back, tilting my chin up with his hand. His touch was soft, yet it sent tingles through my skin. "You look beautiful in the moonlight," he whispered, his eyes locking with mine. "It's as if the stars are envious of your radiance."

I blushed at his words, feeling my cheeks heat up. "You're just saying that," I replied, looking away. But he gently turned my head back towards him, his gaze unwavering.

"I never say things I don't mean," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you, truly and completely. You are my reason for being, my heart in this immortal world."

Before I could respond, he kissed me. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, passion, and a love that transcended time. His lips were soft and cool, yet they ignited a fire within me. I closed my eyes, letting the sensations wash over me—the taste of salt on his lips, the gentle pressure of his hand on the small of my back, and the way he held me as if I were the most precious thing in the world.

The kiss deepened, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He lifted me off my feet, his strength effortless, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. The water swirled around us as we floated, our bodies entwined, and the moonlight casting a silver glow over our embrace.

Jaemin pulled back slightly, his eyes half-lidded and smoldering with desire. "I want you," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with longing. "I want to spend eternity with you, to share every moment, every breath, every heartbeat."

I felt a surge of emotion at his words, a mixture of love and desire that made my heart race. "Then let's make this night last forever," I replied, pressing my lips to his once more. He kissed me deeply, passionately, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me closer.

We continued to swim, our movements slow and deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world. The water was cool against our skin, but the heat between us was undeniable. Jaemin's touch was gentle, yet there was an underlying strength that made me feel safe, protected.

As we floated in the moonlit ocean, Jaemin held me close, his lips brushing against my forehead, my cheeks, and finally, my lips. Each kiss was a promise, a declaration of love that transcended words. The world around us faded away, leaving only the sound of our breathing and the gentle lapping of the waves.

Eventually, we made our way back to the shore, the sand soft beneath our feet. Jaemin carried me in his arms, his gaze never leaving mine. He smiled, that same playful smile that had captured my heart, and kissed me once more, a kiss that was both tender and filled with longing. As we made our way back to the homestay, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together—a journey filled with love, passion, and the promise of forever.