Chapter Text
“i fucking hate you.”
na jaemin’s lips are hot on yours, a sickening flame that you want to tear yourself away from. “i hope you drop dead.” his shirt wrinkles in your fist and you groan into his mouth. “fuck you, you’re the worst.” a squeak escapes your lips when he pulls on your hair. you’re about to cuss him out but he cuts you off with another kiss.
“i get it—” he huffs, “—you can’t stand me—” teeth gnashing, tongues wet, “—but do the both of us a favor—” hungry, animalistic, “—and look at me like you wanna fuck me instead of wanting to bury me alive unless you wanna repeat this scene over and over again, yeah?”
to the eyes watching from below the stage, it may seem like a passionate moment between the characters you’re both playing, but to you it’s a set designed by hell. you want to strangle him when you wrap your arms around his neck for a breather. you want to twist a knife into his throat instead of leaving a nest butterfly kisses.
“good,” he whispers, a wet trail from your earlobe to your jaw as he places a heavy hand on your hips straddling his lap. “last one. close your eyes.”
“eat shit.”
you throw yourself off him with a gasp when he bites hard on your bottom lip, teeth scraping against the swollen muscle and you look at him with so much abrasion and repugnance that he only laughs.
“alright, good job! let’s have a water break. be back here in ten!”
you hate na jaemin with every fiber of your being, and you won’t let him off so easily for nearly making you bleed. a nasty sound erupts from your throat. your spit lands on his cheekbone when he ducks down to grab a water bottle, which consequently drops back on the floor with a loud noise. you snicker. he’s looking at you like he wants you dead. you attempt to shove past him but jaemin yanks you back by the wrist with a staggering strength and you warn him with a sneer.
jaemin’s grip tightens around your wrist. you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise. he wipes your spit with your own two fingers and puts them in his mouth. his teeth sink into your skin. your fingers burn against his tongue. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” you exclaim after pulling yourself out of his hold.
“my bad,” he mocks, a smug look on his face. “thought you were aiming for my mouth.”
“fuck you.”
“save it for the play.”
“go kill yourself.”
“after you.”