𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗢𝗗𝗘 | 𝗡𝗖𝗧 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠

Bruises | Jaemin Imagine #22

Title: bruises

Genre: fluff, slight angst

Warnings: mentions of sexual harassment, descriptions of violence

Word count: ~1k

Synopsis: One wrong move from a stranger is all it takes to snap Jaeemin's restraint. A night out takes a dark turn, leaving his wife to pick up the pieces of a fight that never should have happened

𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪

Jaemin wasn't sure which hurt worse, the pulse of pain through his ribs or the deafening silence you'd maintain since leaving the station. He caught his reflection in the mirror, taking in his disheveled hair and the shirt missing a button at the collar. His face was marked with bruises and cuts. This was not how either of you imagined tonight would go.

Haechan had practically begged the two of you to come to the club with him for his birthday. That's how you ended up sitting at the bar under the neon lights, nursing a soda while you watched your friends dance. Jaemin had gone up to use the restroom, and you were already wishing he hadn't left when a man smelling of cheap cologne approached you.

"Hey there, beautiful. Mind if I buy you a drink?" he leaned in with an expensive grin.

You recoiled instinctively, raising your left hand so the light caught the diamond ring on your finger. "No, thank you. I'm married."

You turned to scan the room for Jeno or Haechan, but the stranger stepped into your path, his hand sliding onto your waist.

"I don't see him anywhere," he smirked, digging his fingers into the silk of your dress.

"Turn around and you will," Jaemin's voice cut through the noise like a blade. He wrenched the man's hand off of you and pulled you firmly behind his shoulder.

The man let out a jagged, ugly laugh. "Relax, man. I was just looking for someone to have fun with."

"Then look elsewhere because she's mine," Jaemin glowered.

The guy held up his hands in a fake shrug. "Fine, whatever," he scoffed, "Doubt she's worth the trouble in bed, anyway."

That comment snapped the last thread of Jaemin's restraint. Before the man could brush past to leave, Jaemin's knuckles met his jaw with a sickening crack.

"Jaemin!" you gasped in horror.

What followed was a chaotic mess of more punching, shoving, and swearing until they were pulled apart by security guards.

The next thing you knew, an hour had bled away at the police station while you sat under the buzzing fluorescent lights giving statements. Thankfully, Jaemin was let off with only a warning, but you were still fuming the whole drive home.

Your heels hit the floor with an aggressive thud, echoing through the hallway while he silently toed off his own shoes. He trailed after you into the kitchen, his eyes following your sharp movements as you grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and pulled the first aid kit from a cabinet.

"Sit," you ordered, pointing toward the counter stool.

Jaemin obeyed without a word, suppressing wince as he climbed onto the seat. You placed the ice pack firmly against his bruised knuckles, the only sound in the room being the sharp click of the first aid kit snapping open. The heavy silence stretched on as you soaked a cotton swab in antiseptic.

His eyes followed your steady hands while you treated his wounds. Even with your brows knitted together and your lips pressed into a thin line, he thought you looked breathtaking. He found it endearing how gentle your touch was, despite the residual fury in your eyes.

"You know," Jaemin teased softly, trying to catch your eye, "you look really hot when you're mad at me."

You shot him a flat, unamused glare and pressed the antiseptic cotton harder against his cheek.

"Ow! Okay, okay— I'm sorry!" he hissed, flinching away from your hand.

"You're lucky you're not in jail right now," you finally spoke, the anger finally draining out of you. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? I was so scared when he swung back at you."

Jaemin's playful expression faded. "I'm sorry, baby. I just... I couldn't listen to him talk to you like that. It's bad enough that he put his hands on you."

Sighing, you reached for a bandage. "I know you were protecting me, and I appreciate it," you said, pressing the band-aid to his cheek gently this time. "But still, fighting is bad. There are other ways to get your point across without violence."

He reached with his uninjured hand, catching yours to draw you closer. "You're right," he murmured, a flicker of mischief returning to his eyes. "Next time I'll try to use my words. Or I'll just make out with you the second another guy tries to make a move."

You rolled your eyes at his absurdity, taking some gauze out of the kit to dab at the blood on his bottom lip. Your face was inches away from his, close enough that your warm breath fanned across his skin, making his heart beat faster.

"There," you whispered, setting the gauze aside. "All done."

Before you could step away, he hooked a hand around your waist and pulled you into the space between his legs. "It still hurts. Kiss me better?"

"You're such a dork," you laughed, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

But you leaned in anyway and pressed a soft, chaste peck to the corner of his mouth. You started to pull away, but Jaemin wasn't finished. The ice pack fell away as his hand threaded through your hair to tilt your head back. He brought your lips back to his with a searing intensity that made your knees weak.

The lingering tension of the night vanished, replaced with a strong passion that lit fireworks. Jaemin's tongue swiped across your lower lip, seeking entrance, and when you moaned into his mouth, he deepened the kiss. His hand slid down your waist, pulling you closer so that no space was left between you. The metallic taste from his lips mixed with the sweetness of your lip gloss. Your hands migrated from his shoulders to his hair, fingers tugging the dark strands as you kissed back fiercely.

When you finally parted for air, Jaemin's gaze was heavy with affection. "I love you," he breathed, voice dropping to a sincere whisper.

You smiled, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. "I love you too, Jaem. Promise me no more fights?"

"I promise," he vowed, catching your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips.

You rested your head on his shoulder, letting the quiet comfort settle around you. The bruises would fade, but the promise of his love felt permanent.

𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪