alot has happened in ncity.. as we know. and i haven't written anything since new years, but i have some stuff im cooking up in the drafts. the emotaeyongie drought will be over soon.
peace and love <3
i have a ton of ideas right now but im mainly thinking of writing for either haechan or hendery, (or possibly- yangyang.)
i know i mainly did texting fics, but i've always been more invested in actual writing, so there will be more of those! (but im not discontinuing my text ones- i do think they're funny)
i will see you all soon! and make sure to be tuned in for jaehyun's comeback and wayv's (alleged?) comeback! love u
Exactly 12 hours later, Hendery finds himself curled against himself on his bed. His head is pounding like a typhoon in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, causing him to groan beneath his blanket. But, it’s not a blanket. It’s one of his towels.
His memory is mostly there, though it hurts like hell every waking moment to just exist, let alone think. It’s when he remembers the events of the day before and the magic-filled dreams that he hears humming around the corner in the living room area. Well, it’s more like a TV, couch, and table right beyond the kitchen in this tiny studio, but Hendery likes to think of it as a living room. Hendery racks his brain for explanations behind the humming sound. Maybe one of his friends came over? Xiaojun and Yangyang sometimes smoke with him, but to not remember them coming over? And the humming seems distinctly feminine.
Then he notices that his bed is made up with clean sheets. Confused out of his mind, he slowly gets up with a cacophony of groans. In the back of mind, a small voice tells him to grab some sort of weapon. Reaching blindly across the dresser, he picks up the first sturdy thing his fingers can grab onto. Not bothering to even look at the object, he raises it above his head and rounds the corner to the living room area. The second he sees your figure, he loses his grip on his beer opener, jaw slack.
~
You hear the boy before you see him. A combination of his jumbled thoughts and the sound of stumbling about. You don’t turn around – too enamored by the vision of the sea right outside the window – but you hear something metallic hit the cheap vinyl floor. “Glad to know my powers still work on earth.”
After a noticeable period of silence, you turn towards Hendery with a smirk on your face. He’s standing there, eyes wide with the cogs of his mind spinning faster than they have in months. What the fuck what the fuck she’s real she’s real what the fuck is she really a goddess what in the hell am I still high or drunk still or-
You silence his thoughts by holding up a hand. That’s when you see what he dropped to the floor, moving your hand to gesture towards the shiny object. “Was that what you picked up to defend yourself against me?” You hold back a scoff as you walk forward to pick it up. You don’t appreciate how his eyes follow down as you bend over, his thoughts insanely pornographic. “What even is this?” You scrutinize the metal device to glance back at Hendery, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s- you-” He straightens his shoulders and clears his throat. “What, in the fuck, is going on?” he pointedly claps his hands towards you. His face is the most serious you’ve seen so far. Granted, you’ve only been around the guy for about two hours, excluding when he passed out.
“I asked first, little boy. You had it raised above your head, obviously some sort of defense. What, did you think I was an attacker and this is your weapon?” Hendery’s thoughts latched onto that phrase – little boy. But you can’t quite figure out why, not that you care either. You're more perplexed by his oblivion to the fact that you weren’t looking at him when he came in. Isn’t he curious how you know that the object was raised?
“It’s a beer opener that looks like a surfboard. Now you answer my question – what is going on?”
You rack your brain, trying to remember what surfboards are used for. You walk back to the window and look out, seeing small figures in the distance. “Is that what those people are doing? Surfboarding?”
The boy walks over to stand next to you by the window, brushing your shoulders. You instinctively move over a bit, not sure if it’s to give him room or out of discomfort. He smiles softly, eyes glazing over as if remembering something. “Yeah, surfing,” but the spell is broken as he turns to face you. “So, you're real?”
You figure that it’s time to answer Hendery’s questions. You walk over to the couch and sit, the boy following behind you. “Yesterday, while you were under the influence, you called my number by mistake. Recall, though, that it’s not possible to access the Goddess Hotline by mistake. So, though you were catfished,” you mentally give yourself a pat on the back for remembering the correct term, “the All Mighty One – or the universe to you – saw it fit for you to be given the number of the Goddess Hotline.” You pause for a moment to let your words sink in. Hendery’s thoughts are still full of the nonstop oh my god she’s real nonsense, albeit a bit muted while he considers your words. “After conversing for a bit, you made the wish for me to stay by your side until I fall in love with you,” you decide to leave out the sex part, hoping that he had forgotten about it.
Unfortunately, his thoughts indicate that he hadn’t forgotten. But he doesn’t vocalize this. “Then I just what, passed out from pure shock?”
You’ve tried to lie before, countless times. But something in the All Mighty One’s plan for the world is to forbid goddesses from lying. So, you force the truth out of your mouth, words feeling acidic on your tongue. “Actually, I lost my temper and cursed you to fall asleep for exactly 12 hours. I moved you to your bed, tidied up the place, and went to the store for some new clothes.”
This seems to pull Hendery fully out of his stupor. Any lingering feelings of drowsiness and confusion flee away as fast as a dog running after its favorite ball. His whole demeanor changes, eyes narrowing. “Where did you get those clothes?”
You make a pointed effort to not shrink at the icy tone or the pointed stare. “The shop across the street. I wasn’t able to go further away, due to the specifics of your wish,” you look down at your new attire. In keeping up with earth’s culture, you had developed a particular love for the outfits featured in Sex and the City. You had never seen the show, but you imagine that the characters would appreciate the low-waisted, dark gray cargo pants paired with a forest green tube top and matching jewelry. “Ah!” You remember receiving something from the woman in the store. You reach into the front left pocket of your new pants and pull out a neatly folded slip of paper.
“Well, you do look good. Like, you were an 7 but now you're an 8.5.” he says as you hand over the receipt, seemingly ignoring the way you roll your eyes. He quickly unfolds the slip with deft fingers, eyes narrowing as he skims the paper. Without looking up, he asks, “I guess you used your magic to pay for this?” But before you get the chance to answer his question, his eyes grow to the size of saucers. “Why does the card number match my debit card?” He does look up at this. His thoughts are full of disbelief and anger and are so hot you once again have to ground yourself to not physically flinch.
“Though I’ve only used my powers a couple of times on earth, I get drained after using them – even if the spell is a small one. I did not have enough energy to deceive the poor worker into letting me walk away. I also believe that you should have thought more about the outcome of your wish – considered more of the long-term consequences for wishing me to stay by your side.” You hope it does not sound snarky or self-righteous, but you’re not about to show weakness in front of the immature boy.
And, to his credit, he just lies back on the beaten couch, looks at the ceiling, and whispers “What the fuck did I get myself into?” Then, with a sigh through puffed cheeks, he straightens back up and turns to you. “Okay. Sure. I have some questions.”
“I would expect as much. Ask away.”
It’s a fast rally between the two of you, questions getting answered without hesitation.
He begins. “Just to be clear, you don’t have money?”
“No, that’s why I took your wallet.”
“How much do you know about the world – society?”
You shrug, “I suppose I know the basics.”
“How the hell am I supposed to explain this to people?”
“Maybe you should have considered that before asking your wish.”
“Do you have any skills?”
“Well, I have some magic. I’m a level one goddess.”
Hendery pauses at that answer. “What does level one mean?”
You tilt your head up at this, smiling with pride. “It’s the highest level you can be. Not only do I have the ability, but I have the jurisdiction to cast pretty much any spell.”
“Do you have any skills that a human would have? Cause I have a job and, if we have to stick together, it’s easiest to just get you a job with me.”
You ponder for a second, putting your pointer finger to the corner of your mouth and staring at the ceiling. “I am very charming and pretty. In the past, humans tend to go along with whatever I ask.”
The cloud of confusion taking up space in Hendery’s mind seems to be a permanent fixture. Every sort of external stimulus raises questions and intrigue in his thoughts. You might have thought the curiosity was charming, if not for the equally present loser virgin masturbatory thoughts. “Wait, what do you mean in the past? How old are you? How many wishes have you granted? What’s your job job? How old are you?”
You wish you had the ability to raise a single eyebrow, but you can’t, so you raise both. “I thought it was considered rude on earth to ask a woman their age.”
Hendery scoffs, “You’re hardly a wo-” he stops himself from finishing the thought, but you already know what he was going to say. He closes his eyes and cringes.
“If I’m not a woman, then what am I?”
“A goddess, I suppose,” he replies guilty. He cards his fingers though his raven hair and stands up. “Before anything else happens, I gotta eat something.” He sighs, looking towards you as he walks away. “Are you hungry? Wait, what do you even eat?”
You smile. “Fortunately for your wallet, I do not require food.”
“Well, thank god for tiny miracles.” He stops walking. “Or, I guess, I should say thank goddess.”
As childish as the joke is, you can’t stop the small laugh from escaping you. You can feel his thoughts flutter at the small validation, and you decide to answer his most pressing question. “My age cannot easily be translated into human years. However, a rough estimate would be around 127.” You hear a choking sound from the kitchen. “I’m quite young actually.”
⋆.˚ 𓇼°°‧ 𓆝 𓆟𓆞 ·｡
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a/n: and perhaps, what are your thoughts on what the story will be? how do you like it so far? i hope yall enjoyed!
🍌 bff!jaemin x f!reader x bff!jeno (including: nct's haechan and jisung!)🐒 warnings: THIS IS ALL FICTIONAL AND IS IN NO WAY A DEPICTION OF JENO LEE OR NA JAEMIN AS REAL PEOPLE!!! afab reader, a lot of swear words!, polyamory is a grey area in this fic but it is not meant to be a main part of the storyline (however it is evidently clear that they both have feelings for reader), mature themes i.e insults, people r called stupid and cheeky monkeys and fat fuckers but not in a mean way, yheard!!! rich, spoilt borderline asshole jeno at times, reader is y/n but referred to as rabbit, EVERYONE IS SELFISH, NOT PROOFREAD AND I CBA TO COUNT THE WORDS, idk i just don't think this is traditionally romantic... but that's okay bc if you do not like it then do not read it! 18+ fic with all of the mature themes but i am not responsible for the content you choose to consume.
🐇summary: jaemin is your best friend. five years ago, jeno found his way into your duo and somehow everything fit perfectly together. you're not fifteen anymore, and your ability to tolerate silverspoon!jeno is dwindling away, and fast. jaemin's getting a lover and everyone says too much and your head hurts and you explode. the three of you once claimed to hold unconditional love for one another, but who's bluff do you undeniably call in the end?
final words: this is a story i created with my brain that i had roaming around in my notes since i was a youngin... nanabanana doesn't even know who ai is, yheard? AND ALSO i apologise if some stuff makes no sense... if we think about this on a technical since it's all fictional, it doesn't necessarily matter that much. dedicated to my ever lasting unattainable love, levi! 🫧 happy reading <3
ACT I
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ AVG AGE — 14-15
to you, jeno was just a boy with midnight black hair who you’d had a pea-sized crush on for a decent amount of time. one year, maybe two at most. to jaemin, your crush had gone on for one to two years too long, over a guy with hair that was an unmatchable shade- “you gotta shit or get off the pot, rabbit.” he’d say to you on the campus bench placed perfectly under a cherry blossom tree.
he’d fit that nine-word sentence into as many places as he could, it became a tradition for quite some time. jaemin wasn’t jealous, he just felt like jeno was inadequate for someone as beautiful as you.
beautiful- an iceberg, an umbrella term. what weren’t you? not only to jaemin, but to the world? first place in every mathematics test you’d ever taken, the first to help fallen down old ladies when they toppled over, religiously feeding the stray cats with the care kit you meticulously keep in your handbag.
you were beautiful, selfless, intelligent and big minded and smart and jeno was just… a pair of biceps and a nice smile. but as of late, jaemin put his opinions to the side for the benefit of you. “hey, jen. how have you been?” he spoke into his phone, playing with the string of his sweatpants. jen— the nickname in itself, leaving jaemin’s mouth felt wrong; out of place.
there was a beat of silence, as though jeno was racking his brain for why jaemin would even be calling him in the first place. every idea of this occurring was once very distant and far away; what business does an IT student have with levi highschool’s P.E phenomenon? “uh, i’m goo—“
jaemin despised small talk, and he wasn’t about to make exceptions for jeno’s benefit, “i was wondering, are you interested in hanging out with me and y/n this weekend? i was thinking we could go to the beach for the last time before school starts up again.”
“you and rabbit? i thought you guys were already an ensemble… why would you need me there?” jeno hummed, speakers buzzing at the deepness in his voice.
jaemin might’ve recoiled in his skin at jeno’s curiousity. we don’t need you there, was what he wanted to say, but instead he scratched his head, “well, i don’t know. i just thought it’d be fun?”
“wait! does your rabbit want me there?” a hint of optimism spiked his voice, and jaemin swallowed a non-existent boulder that lay in his throat. he wanted to grit his teeth and slam his index finger on the burning red ‘end call’ icon, but he pushed through.
“maybe…? but don’t tell her, please. she’ll burn me at the stake for betraying my best friend privileges.” they laughed unanimously, and for a split second jaemin got to thinking that jeno wasn’t as bad as he had seemed to be for all those years.
“your secret is safe with me, jaem. just tell me when and where,” jeno’s willingness took jaemin back— he hadn’t expected this to be so easy. he thought he’d have to go through a weird initiation process to even begin to strike up a conversation with reonowned jeno lee.
a fleeting summery blue day saw three people sitting on the beach; your favourite one, the one that had nearly pearlescent sand, blue waves that were never not calm, and sunlight that filtered through the meticulously placed palm trees just right.
“so, jeno, this is y/n. i call her rabbit, and you can too if you want to,” jaemin spoke, pulling you gently by the wrist to look up at jeno. you may have gotten vertigo if it weren’t for the fact that jaemin was still holding your arm.
“hi jeno, it’s nice to meet you!” his smile was delectable and your voice didn’t shake, it held it’s weight and you were proud of that tiny fact. his beauty mark was gorgeous and his hair was styled just right, and his t-shirt was subtle but so sophisticated,
“likewise, rabbit. i’ve heard great things about you,” those last few words snapped you out of your mental ramble, and you looked between both jeno and jaemin, “oh god, really? i’m sorry—”
“only great things, rabbit, only.” jaemin smiled and winked at you as jeno walked away to sit down on the picnic blanket jaemin had carefully arranged just an hour before. “so, how long have you guys been friends for?”
the sun weaved it’s way through the tall and stern palm trees, “we met in first grade, on the first day of school. i kinda hit jaemin in the head with my umbrella, and my grandma told me off. i apologised to jaemin but i just knew from when he turned around that i needed to ask him, “do you wanna be best friends?” and he said yes, and we never looked back,”
“those were her real words, jeno, in a little baby voice too, heh!” you laughed and shook your head, replaying the sequence of events in your head. “awweee, wait, i think i can visualise it!” jeno held out the index and thumb of both of his hands and put them up to you in the shape of a rectangle, as though he was regressing back through the look in your eyes to the way you were all those years ago.
“in sickness and in health, aye rabbit?” jaemin flopped down on the picnic blanket shortly after that, succumbing to sleep. “jaemin can sleep anywhere, by the way. i feel like that’s an important thing for you to know if you’re gonna be a part of us,” you spoke, looking out to the sea through your sunglasses.
jeno snorted, “why thank you, rabbit. good to know. do you fall asleep easily too?” you huffed, “it usually takes me an hour or two to properly knock out, y’know? it’s never been my strong suit.”
“i’m like that too, rabbit,”
your first meeting with jeno is short, but in turn, sweet. the wheel, as some may say, was set in motion from that day onward.
the taste of the september air was bitter as it enveloped your tongue, immersed in a conversation you really didn’t care to retain. you tugged on the sleeves of the blazer of your navy blue and gray school uniform as the speech continued.
“and then i went to greece, well, athens to be precise. it was so funny, my brother and i were eating souvlaki for every meal- the only thing that would change would be fries in the pitta for dinner.” luna was busy rambling on about her most recent family vacation, and you could swear that dollar signs might’ve fallen out of her mouth instead of actual words.
she was notoriously rich, a new handbag on her arm every week type rich. this week, it was a one of a kind baby pink chanel cambon ligne tote.
“hi, my rabbit! how was your summer?” jaemin ran up from behind luna to hug you, grin beaming wide and proud. the same jaemin that had been your friend since your very first day of kindergarten, when you had hit him on the head with your umbrella much to your grandma’s dismay.
you looked at him with gratitude in your eyes, “my summer was the same as always, jaem. no changes whatsoever, what about yours?” he walked closely to you as you moved on to find your first class of the day. (as if you hadn’t spent every other day by his side)
it was your first day of tenth grade— and to say that you had been dreading it was an understatement. the one shining light in your school life was jaemin- where you were silent and timid, he was loud and stern. hence the way you stuck to him like glue more often than not.
“i’m not silly, rabbit, i know we were together. i just it would be an effective way to get you away from luna. it’s common knowledge she doesn’t like hearing about anything but herself and her life,” he spoke gently, as if to reassure you that he wasn’t a totally dumb, clueless rock.
you scoffed in acknowledgement, “but yeah, my summer was good. really good.” he nudged you as he finished his sentence and all you could do was roll your eyes. you both turned the corner in the dimly lit hallway and found yourselves in a pretty cute classroom.
the walls were all painted an undeniable orange, and the apertures were wide and welcomed any and all light the sky could provide. both you and jaemin had chosen spanish as your option language when you first started middle school, all those years ago.
“hola a todos, hoy nos hacemos un actividad de escribir. el titlo, “el verano de mis sueños.” quiero 600-700 palabras.”
you sat down in the middle row on the middle desk, “ah, y/n! you’ve reminded me, everybody- you get to pick a new seat for the year. but don’t try to pull fast ones on me by sitting next to the people who won’t encourage you to do your work, okay?” the teacher, miss azzo, spoke.
you smiled at her before you heard the screech of the chair next to you being pulled out. only, it wasn’t who you expected to be sitting down next to you.
“hey, rabbit. is it cool if i sit next to you?” jeno spoke, yes rabbit, jeno spoke. to you. the nearly flourescent ceiling lights shone down on him in a somehow flattering way, and you didn’t really know what to do.
taken aback, sure, you were. moreso by the beauty mark on his chocolatey left eye, and the way his midnight black hair looked daringly beautiful with no particular underlying cause.
words, rabbit, orst you’ll become a rock!
“uh, sure jeno, hi,” you smiled at him but the time passed so quickly that soon the chair to the left of you was being pulled out, that same screech ricocheting across the classroom.
jaemin, “sup?” he huffed down into his seat, and both of the boys did their handshake in front of you, leaning over your desk as they did so. you grimaced, “right in front of my salad, guys?”
“i thought we were all sharing the same salad, rabbit? jaem told me so,” jeno smirked and jaemin laughed like a madman. “you three are thick as thieves, when did all of this come about?” a rhetorical question, because none of you answered, “i expect to read about this in at least one of your essays.” miss azzo smiled from across her desk.
jaemin liked to charm the teachers, it was always in his nature. “of course, i’ll take the burden of that, miss. you can totally rest assured.” the summer of your dreams was certainly a subject to ponder upon; so ponder-worthy that you could nearly fall asleep in your imaginary land.
all things considered, you like to think you kept your cool that day in spanish class. ordinarily you would’ve ducked under the table and hid, earthquake anticipation style. but hey, maybe this school year was the turning point in your life, maybe, maybe?
caesar salad was eaten at lunch time; you’d spent four hours looking forward to gnawing on the spicy-chicken leftovers that you’d made for dinner yesterday.
“the chilli might as well have singed my nostril hairs into dust, rabbit!” luna cringed at the smell, which you found bizarre considering all of her stories consisted of wide ranges of lunches from different cultures.
you rolled your eyes, “why are you coming to sit here, with me?” you crossed your arms as you leaned all your weight on the picnic bench. luna looked taken aback, “because i,” a beat of silence, “well, i’d like to be your friend?”
you nearly scoffed. where were the hidden cameras? as a matter of fact, where was john quiñones? there was no waythe luna park was offering friendship to you at midday in the dawn of october.
“y’know rabbit, you’re not as invisible as you think you are. people know who you are, dare i say some people may even think you’re really intruiguing and also very beautiful.” she smiled through the sentence and there was the same tone of affection she usually used to describe her handbags.
“is ‘some people’ just one person, luna?” you guessed it was safe to assume so and you attempted to bite back your smile— because much to your dismay you had definitely felt the same about luna. her excessively black hair curled up at the ends as it gathered around her waist.
“rabbit, do you want to be my friend or not?” she spoke, clenching her cambon ligne tote as though she were a vice. “yes, luna, i would love that.” and as legend would have it, luna would come to love your caesar salad, especially the spicy, chilli chicken.
a week after back to school, a week after you’d finally settled back into the boring routine of lessons and tiresome lectures, you are invited to go out with not only jaemin, but jeno too. that october afternoon, after you finished your media literacy lesson, they were waiting outside for you.
the sight may have made your stomach swirl; for some reason they both looked bigger and taller than you’d remembered from even just a mere week ago. jaemin’s backpack was dangling off of one shoulder, jeno’s duffle bag hoisted against his hip.
you could totally get used to this situation and clench it in your fist until it smushed and never, ever, ever let it go. jeno saw you first, and beamed his smile at you; the kind that even reached his eyes.
“happy friday rabbit, can you believe we all made it through our second week of school with no injuries?” jaemin asked, looking down at you. the look in his eyes may have meant a lot to someone like jeno, but to you the glisten of hope was nothing out of the ordinary.
“of course we made it! we’re one of the greatest trios on earth, guys. i’m just glad miss azzo enjoyed our stories.” you spoke, walking between the two of them. even though your trio was new, even though jeno was the newbie on the block, nothing in the atmosphere felt unnatural to you.
“we’re going bowling, right? what are you guys doing after?” the beautifully black haired boy questioned both you and jaemin. good question, jeno! “there’s this spot that belongs to rabbit and i, i think you’d really like it. the only problem is that it involves the sea again…”
“that’s all good; i love the beach anyhow,” jeno shrugged as you all arrived to the bus stop. “jeno, this isn’t just any beach.. it’s really magical. like maybe even too magical for you to comprehend.” you spoke with the image of that place in your mind.
“ah, okay. in that case, i’m even more excited to see it, rabbit.” jaemin took each of your bus cards and held them in his hand as he flagged down the bus. always two steps ahead and also always acting like someones mother.
the beach you and jaemin loved didn’t have sand, or an easy point of access to swim. but that’s what you found so awfully charming; the beach was rocky and all there was leading up to the deep, vast sea was beige rock and dried up sand dollars.
there were no streetlights on that beach except for the one at the bus stop’s shelter. this meant that the big dipper was visible from any which way you wanted to percieve it from. “wow, you guys really gatekeep some of the best places i’ve ever seen,” jeno whispered as he looked up at the sky.
you couldn’t see much, but you were sure to smile and wink at jaemin. “well, jen, if we gatekeep it we preserve it’s beauty, no?” you were glad it was a friday; you had no school tomorrow nor external obligations. hence the way you flopped backward, resting your head on your backpack.
you looked between the two boys, and your heart felt full in a way it never had before back when it was just you and jaemin. “i understand that. hey, i swear i’ll gatekeep this place from everybody too, i promise,” jeno spoke, chuckling at the seriousness on jaemin’s face.
that night was reserved for jeno’s backstory only, you and jaemin had come to agree. “well, my dad is the ceo of monkey foods™️. you guys know, that chain of restaurants and different fast food places? he owns it, and i guess by extension that makes me a silver spooner. i try to steer myself away from that path, but sometimes i fail,”
“jen, you’re only young. you shouldn’t put that much pressure on yourself,” you whispered, looking up at his broad back. jaemin was busy digesting the fact that he was sitting near probably the second richest person he knew— the first being luna, the second now being jeno.
jeno turned back to you and smiled gently, as if to say ‘thank you’. “do you think you’re going to take over the company when you finish school and— or, university?” jaemin made a point of keeping the conversation going.
jeno shrugged, “i don’t really know what i wanna do. to be honest i think my cousin is more suited to managing something as— benign as restaurant operations. and i know even the way i talk about it is obnoxious, but at this point in time i don’t want to be known for something like ceo of monkey foods™️. i truly hope i’m worthy of something bigger in this life, you know what i mean?”
something was changing within both you and jaemin, because the words that were coming out of jeno’s mouth were the type of statements you’d both gag at and roll your eyes due to the entitlement that was reeking off of jeno. but, nobody was rolling their eyes. in fact, the both of you were indulging him.
jeno was an only child, his favourite colour was silver, his favourite food was rigatoni pasta with plain old passata, he only liked western rap music, he loved his apple watch, he loved volleyball and he believed in love.
those were the main parts of the moonlit excavation that stuck with you. jaemin would never let you know, but he knew from that night on that you both were in way out of your depth. this would never work. sure, it could work for a few years and maybe even a decade, but he knew whatever this blurry situation was, was sure to end in the jarring method of crashing and burning.
but much like the pride jaemin had swallowed all that time ago by giving jeno a call in the first place, he decided to swallow his doubts and give all of this an undeniable, full force shot.
october blurred into january, and most of your daydreams had a new addition; jeno lee! the physics lab was usually the venue in which you dreamt up all kinds of scenarios, and the “old fart, or is it, bag of bones?” as jaemin referred to your teacher, never really seemed to mind.
jeno had invested in some new timberland boots— they were dark, clunky, chunky and chocolatey. your eyeballs might’ve nearly fallen out of your head when, “they cost me three hundred, what do you guys think?” because who could spend that on shoes without dying a little inside?
“jeno man, for three hundred they better be singing me a fucking song everytime i bless them with the occupancy of my feet… you’re crazy, dude!” you giggled because you knew jaemin was being serious. jeno chuckled because he found humor in what jaemin was saying.
“well, i love your shoes, jeno!” they added an inkling to his height, and he suited them. he smiled down at you in the middle of the hallway, “they’re not shoes, rabbit, they’re boots. but thank you, i appreciate it greatly.” ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆😵💫🐇🫧
yes, your brain may have gotten a little tipsy and fuzzy at the tone in his voice, but you were pulled out of that delusion pretty quickly thanks to jaemin’s soft hand gently tugging you away from jeno, “rabbit, we have ethics to get to,”
jeno had been holding your gaze for what felt like forever, but you tore your eyes away from his, “right, yeah, see you around jeno!” you opened your mouth to say something to jaemin, “whaddya mean, see you around?! i’ll see you guys at lunch!”
“y’know, rabbit you might wanna check the corners of your mouth,” you looked up at him with knotted eyebrows, and the grin he was holding back threatened to spill. “heh, really?” you reached up to the corners of your mouth, ready to wipe whatever mess there was away, but you also still hadn’t put two and two together, “yeah, i think you might’ve drooled a little, just a—”
“oh, shut up, jaemin!” you both laughed and you pushed him to the right of you, nearly sending him into the rows of lockers. you pulled him back to you gently, “i’m just messing with you,” and he dropped it for months after that.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ AVG AGE — 16-18
sweet sixteens were made for giant cakes and an abundance of party poppers, right? confetti decorated every inch of luna’s living room floor as the speakers pounded some of your favourite songs right through your core.
it had been twenty minutes after jaemin and jeno had texted that they were on their way, and you’d be telling a big fat lie if you said you weren’t looking at the door with every minute that passed. you were getting antsy; or, as jeno liked to put it lately, you had ants in your pants.
the black dress you were wearing with the bows on either side now felt way too tight, your kitten heels were giving the balls of your feet a very, very hard time and your dangly earrings were tickling the sides of your neck way too much.
nearly the whole of your sixthform group was there; luna was busting an absolute abundance of moves by the dj booth, in the midst of some people who used to go to your high school. luna must’ve sensed your dismay, because soon someone was grabbing your hand and dragging you to the middle of the room.
“it’s your birthday, rabbit, you mustn’t be such a debbie downer!” throughout the few years that your friendship had blossomed, she was proud of the fact that she was now getting the hang of reading your facial expressions with no involved effort needed.
you groaned, but the music was persistent in getting you to move along to the beat. luna’s eyeliner complimented the gentle purple of her eyeshadow as she spoke, “i know you’re waiting on them two… but it’s literally your birthday; it only comes around once a year, babe!”
you knew she was trying, but your tunnel vision was stern in the way you couldn’t resist thinking about those two who had not recently, but powerfully nonetheless, come to be a huge part of your heart.
maybe it was your recent inclination in age, maybe it was the singular glass of prosecco you’d downed earlier. whatever it was, something about it felt permanent; some slice of you knew that you would proabbly be thinking about both jeno and jaemin in a habitual way from that moment on.
yes, the music was pounding much like your head, yes, luna was being a really good friend, but all you could think about where jeno and jaemin were. you’d rather be posted up in between them than in the middle of a birthday party.
despite your wishes, the universe must have kept hanging up the phone you’d been attempting to complain through because the night pushed on, and the feeling drilled itself deeper into your core. and in the pit of your stomach, intrigue sat lurking in the acid— why was their absence affecting you so much?
everybody shush!the front door swung open, the music getting evenly spread across the interior and exterior of luna’s jumbo house, pacifying your ringing ears.
“where is the birthday girl?!” jaemin, y’know; your bestest friend in the whole world, yelled out over the music. your head whipped around at a speed like no other; your smile beaming the same way jeno’s did all those years ago.
something you’d come to notice about jaemin was that his height held space in a room. some tall people were just tall; but jaemin acted tall and you could feel that presence more prominently all of a sudden. jeno’s biceps were glistening in the strobe lights and you swallowed your thick spit.
“rabbit’s here, jaemin!” the miniscule crowd that had formed around both you and luna divided straight down the middle and you walked toward them. “happy birthday, rabbit!” engulfed in a group hug too strong for you to form tangible thoughts, but your confusion powered through.
“thank you, thank you… where were you guys?” all this time you’d been blind to the way jeno had only hugged you with one hand, and how jaemin had dropped a giant box behind him in an attempt to hold you completely. “well, i know our timing really sucks and we should’ve had foresight. but, i hope this makes up for a smidge of the disappointment you felt. just so we’re clear, we’d never forget a day as important as your birthday, rabbit.”
jeno’s voice echoed through your ears and down to your heart the same way a deep trombone would. “type shit, rabbit. what jeje said word for word is how i, too, feel about this situation.” jeno pulled his hand out to face you with the biggest bouquet you’d ever seen in your life.
your favoruite; white and pink lilies, baby pink roses and a lot of baby’s breath inbetween the small crevices that the flowers left. you dreaded to think of how much they would’ve paid for something of that stature. “oh my god, you guys?! how beautiful!”
and then jaemin turned around to lift up the cardboard box, “i told you guys to not get me anything; so i’m hoping this is just a vessel to make a box fortress.” you spoke with concern, but they both ignored the underlying threat that lay within your sentence.
it wasn’t long before jaemin scoffed, “you’re our girl, rabbit. don’t talk such binswat!” jeno held your arm then, “i think it’s better if you sit down to open it though.” he guided you to the couch with such gentle ease that you felt the hairs stick up on the back of your neck.
the couch welcomed you as you tugged on the tape that laid across the box. inside sat another box, but it wasn’t just any box. it was most definitely, without a doubt, a chanel box. you were glad that jeno made you sit, but you were very, very angry at the fact that they had bought something this ostentatious for your birthday.
there may have been tears trickling down your cheeks as you spoke, “guys, why did you spend this much on a stupid birthday?!” the music flowed around the room as most people paid no mind to you opening the box, and crying for that matter.
“rabbit, if you don’t open it right now i swear to god i might breakdance in front of everyone here. and you know how much i suck at breakdancing.” you lifted the lid of the box as if it were a newborn baby. you unfolded the monogramed opaque tissue paper and there it sat— an 11.12 bag looking right back at you.
the bag was patent black and the chanel symbol sparkling gold underneath the now warm lights above you. for a split second you wondered if the bag was an homage to jeno— his hair was about the same colour as the bag, and he was never in anything but gold jewelry. that would be too ridiculous, right?
“do you like it?” jaemin whispered, his hand tracing up and down your forearm. you sobbed, of course you liked it; of course you undeniably loved it. “this bag is much too perfect for me. i want you guys to return it—” jeno tsked at you, “rabbit, no one is going to return anything, don’t be so silly. you deserve this. so much.”
your head shook profusely; yes, your dream bag sat between your hands, but you’d always kind of imagined it being a gift from you to you. things like these; things that more than half of the world would never think to justify buying, ought to be worked for and really fought for. only then were they an achievement in your eyes.
“i love you guys, but no. i’m sorry, i won’t take it.” jaemin’s neck rolled in acknowledgement— the bag had been jeno’s idea in the first place and he knew you wouldn’t have been well disposed towards it, but he chose not to dwell on that. they both ditched their insistent tones from then onward.
everybody else had gone back to drinking, dancing or gossiping. leaving you, jeno and jaemin huddled up on a couch which was way too small to accommodate the amount of manspreading that was happening.
“i’m going to go and find some drinks, do you guys want anything?” jaemin stretched when he got up, linen dress shirt riding up; highlighting the creaminess of the skin on his stomach. “i’d love a rum and coke, please jaem,” you must have spaced out because you looked back to find both of them looking at you intently, “oh, i’d love a lemonade, please,” jaemin nodded and soon the living room door was slammed shut.
“i’m sorry about the fact that i— we you that bag, rabbit, i mean jaemin tried to talk me out of it, but i wouldn’t take no for an answer. i had no idea that-” you decided to save yourself the humbling embarassment, “jeno, it’s okay, really. i just—” but jeno was just as stubborn as you, if not more.
“no, i had no idea that doing things like that in your own way was so important to you, so forgive me for undermining you.” his eyes were darker thanks to the lack of light left to absorb, you were far away from pink and purple strobe lights, or even bathroom overheads for that matter.
his midnight black hair remained stable, barring a few wrecked strands that had been put out of place thanks to jaemin’s fiddling and the smell of his cologne was too minty, too intoxicating, too heavy; you felt like you’d already had five shots of sambuca.
in all this admiring, you’d forgotten that you were meant to reply to what he had said. “jeno, it’s okay. i take no offense to any of it, and i’m sorry that i didn’t accept it, and i’m sorry if it embarassed you. i know it probably embarassed jaemin,” his warm, stupidly warm, right hand came to caress your cheek, “if you carry on talking so badly about your actions and whatever the fuck then i swear i am taking you to that dance floor and break dancing and making you join me, rabbit.”
you reluctantly leaned into his touch— the reluctancy came from the fact that you knew this was the first sign post directed toward something awfully conflicting and exciting and risky; there had always been the idea of you and jeno in your head, but nowadays it felt more tangible, more delectable.
since there was the tiny bit of extra room on the couch, jeno’s head found home on your thighs and you slouched further down, searching for that comfortable spot between sitting down and laying down. your hands found home in jeno’s once perfectly put together hair.
“if you ever saw an old man doing a handstand in the street, no zimmerframe in sight and the most fugly shoes ever, would you join him, jen?” that was the question that tickled him the most. so much he had tears in his eyes when he eventually got his answer out of his throat.
“of course i would, i might even like offer to buy him better shoes- if he’d be down for that type of thing,” you gasped, “he doesn’t need charity, jeno, he just likes to do handstands with fugly shoes. there’s no shame in that, right?”
jeno squinted at you from where he lay, left hand playing with the rings on the middle and index fingers of his right hand. “of course there’s no shame in that at all, rabbit. i don’t judge, you of all people should know that,”
“hey, can i ask you something?” you swallowed the granny smith apple sized lump in your throat, eyes getting wider, “why does everyone call you rabbit?” you think a part of jeno knew you expected him to ask something else, so maybe the smirk he soon gained was due to the fact that he effortlessly kept you on your toes.
“uh, i’m not actually that sure. jaemin had a pet rabbit when he was younger and one of the first things he said to me when he spoke to me for the first time was something along the lines of, “your nose is just like my rabbits,” you did your best to imitate baby jaemin’s voice.
one of jeno’s eyebrows was stuck pointing upward, in the direction of the arm of the couch. “and in all of the years you guys have been friends, he never thought to call you anything else?” you wondered why the little, most miniscule things mattered to him at times, “i don’t know jeno, but i don’t mind it. much better than something like donkey, cheeseball, or like something even more lame, right?”
“i don’t know… if it had been me i could’ve thought of like a hundred different, more flattering things to call you,” you swallowed thickly, he had to stop doing this to you, surely he knew what power he held in his eyes and in those hands, and—
“have you and jaemin ever got into arguments and broken up- like i mean, stopped being friends?” he’d never been this nosy, ever, but you decided to indulge him. you had nothing to lose. “well before you came along, we fought like cat and dog. i think there was a different thing to be mad about everyday when it came to either one of us. sometimes, even now jaemin is so close minded that it irks me, and sometimes the way he views the world makes absolutely no sense at all to me. and at times, he may bring out the worst in me, which i’m not the most proud about.”
the vibration of the base of whatever song was playing was still thumping through the couch and into your veins, but jeno listened intently. “don’t take any of this the wrong way, i mean i’d gladly say all of this to his face; not that i haven’t before,” he laughed then, getting up so you two could switch places. you took out your dangly earrings and let them drop to the floor, beside the forgotten piña colada circa two hours ago.
jeno’s legs were much more chunkier than yours, they were so stable and firm but you still found comfort in them. his hand hesitated, dangled in front of your face but he bit the bullet and traced your hairline with multiple fingers. “i told you, i don’t judge. even if i do judge, i don’t judge you,”
you smiled and exhaled, “what made you guys break up with each other?” “there was more than one time, jen, pick a year, month, hell even a week,” his eyes nearly popped out of his head, as if to ask you why you were still stuck to jaemin like glue. “i thought you said you weren’t going to judge!”
he laughed and tilted his head to the side with pursed lips, as if to digress, insisting for you to carry on. “okay, one of the most notable times is probably the one where he used me to get his first kiss just so he could go and kiss sakura… that one really infuriated thirteen year old me,”
jeno chuckled, shaking his head, “what an absolute ass ache, eh?” yes, jaemin was an ass ache, but he was also the only friend that ever stuck. you’d spent years throwing different ideas; trios, best friends, study buddies, at the wall, but nothing ever stuck to said wall. jaemin did.
“i think there’s a certain age where everything is coming at you from all directions, right? well, when i was that age, jaemin just so happened to metaphorically fly into my life through all the chaos. and when you spend so many years with someone; even if it’s just sitting next to them in class as you and i also did, you develop a type of love with them,” you swallowed and clocked back into the present, cringing at the fact that you’d gone on a tangent.
jeno looked up at you then with some glint of admiration in his eyes, “you know, i never thought of it like that before, rabbit,” you shrugged, “i mean, you don’t have to understand what i’m saying and i’m certainly not putting all of my philosophy on you, i mean, i just-”
“stop justifying yourself for things that need no justification. i get what you’re saying,”
“well, anyway, i think somehow jaemin and i always find our way back to each other; not even in a love love way, i think we are just bound to be friends or never escape each other, y’know?”
“tell me, rabbit, do you think we, too, are bound to never escape each other?” you don’t know when you sat up, or when all your weight was spread out across jeno’s manspreading legs, but you couldn’t let yourself falter; or indulge in what was occuring here.
“things like these are luck, jeno. sometimes even the things that we want so bad refuse to stick or constantly cut their ties, don’t you think? time will tell, jen,” jeno was confused as to how you held so much insight on the world while being the same age as him. the most extensive thing he thought about was his meal plan for the week; to him, love was still just a four letter word.
“then i hope luck is on my side, rabbit.”
there was no clock in sight, but if you had to guess, another hour had probably passed by the time jaemin returned. “hey, sorry, luna had me doing the worm with no shoes and we were trying to backflip off of the dinner table, but i’m here now, with drinks, but we should totally moonbathe on those deckchairs outside, guys, whaddya think?!”
the cool air kissed your skin as you laid back on the middle deckchair. “how do you think sixteen is going to treat you?” jeno questioned as he laid to the left of you, jaemin laid to the right. you thought about his question deeply; or at least you tried to think about it deeply.
“it’s going to be different than anything before, that’s for certain. i’m really excited to graduate sixthform and i just hope above all else— we stay as close as we are and that nothing and no one ruins what we have. i hate to sound so morbid but sometimes i have this crippling fear that something deranged like an unstoppable meteor will drag us away from each other.”
jeno noticed, silently, that jaemin brought out the innocent side of you; the side that didn’t have any walls, fronts or borders. jeno decided, silently, that he wanted to work to gain that side of you too.
“i think you class as one of the worlds top two overthinkers, rabbit. didn’t anyone ever tell you to live in the now, and cherish it?” jaemin- carefree and happy go lucky jaemin laughed at the beginning of the sentence, and although what he was saying was true- to some degree, you were curious.
“who’s the other overthinker- oh, jeno…” your words died in your throat, of course it was jeno. “bingo,” jeno whispered gently, and you bit back your blushy smile. “it’s difficult to cherish the now sometimes, jaem. and besides, rabbit has a point, the idea of unavoidable catastrophic events give me intense heebeejeebees too!”
“you guys… i don’t think another dinosaur wipe-out will happen while we are alive and walking the earth. and even if it does, what can you do to change it? just accept your fate…” you all groaned simaultaneously, “that’s the problem, we can’t do anything to change it and that’s why it worries us so much!”
“okay, i promise you both whatever happens; if something like this does ever occur, i solemnly swear that i will drop everything i am doing to come and find you two and we can all die together, okay? and don’t give me retort about there not being enough time to drive to you guys before the meteor hits or whatever. remember i have f1 on my xbox!”
you couldn’t help but laugh at that. and your fear may have even been distinguished a little. just a smidge. “i also pledge to this, rabbit,” jeno said.
you don’t see how jaemin acts when he is truly in love until you’re all eighteen and he acquires himself a girlfriend. not just any girl, and not just any friend. luna park, of all people in the big, large, protrudingly wide world.
“so you’re telling me… for all those years he walked you home, slept over, looked out for you, took your detentions for you, you never looked up at him like, ‘oh. i might love you now’?” luna folded the brownie batter in on itself about fifteen times during her vigorous interrogation.
she had, “a really fat crush on jaemin and i truly can’t hold it in for any longer, rabbit!” and was, not only asking for your blessing, but making sure that in your heart of hearts that jaemin really was up for grabs.
you couldn’t sit there and claim that there wasn’t currently a giant wedge cracked open within you upon her confession, but you also knew that jaemin and you could never work. the stars would never align in your favor; you were too hot-headed and he was too stubborn. the length his patience could often stretch to often brought out the most irritable version of yourself.
which is why; despite the flickers of the future you see when you blink, i.e luna in a wedding dress, jeno as the best man, the words “i object!” being yelled by somebody who looks an awful lot like you, you bite onto kindness and selflessness for one rare occasion.
“luna, in my heart of hearts, you should absolutely go for it. we’re more like siblings anyways. i mean sometimes, i really feel like bashing his head into next week-” your ramblish web of lies died at the sound of luna’s squeals. “oh, rabbit! you don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”
jeno ate the last slice of the cookie dough brownie pie that you and luna had previously made. your f🐇cking slice, may you add. “you are a pig. an absolute giant pig, jeno. that was my slice!” your hair was being fiddled with aggressively with your fingers as a way to deal with the fury you currently felt pulsing through your veins.
“my compliments to the chef,” he winked at you, midnight black hair gelled back leaving his drool-worthy forehead on full display. if you hadn’t have been bombarded by luna’s love confession, you may have even indulged all your jeno painted fantasies.
“y’know rabbit, i really do believe that four is a crowd.” jaemin and luna were outside in jeno’s back garden which was more like a back field, it’s wide expanse and never ending green that was slowly dying into black thanks to the moon rising.
they sat next to each other on one of the chairs that had been meticulously placed by most likely an interior designer, definitely not jeno, and you felt unsettled. envy held it’s hands tightly around your neck and you wondered for a split moment. you wondered and it happened.
jaemin looked straight into your eyes, he looked back at you after you had spent a solid five minutes looking at him. his reciprocation did not last long though, and probably meant nothing. and so began the most benign, stupid game known to man.
you know?! that game you just always have to play when you like someone? every little thing they do has to have a magnifying glass held up to it when recounting events and occurences; as though it becomes a filthy habit, a ritual of some sorts.
“can i tell you a secret, jen?” he looked at you with an enticing gaze, waiting for you to spill the beans, “i agree, i know we should be happy for them both. hell, she’s my best friend and she is such an angel and i know jaemin deserves someone as good as her, but what a f🐇cking spanner.” aka luna is the spanner in the works of your trio.
one of the things that stuck you to jeno like superglue was the fact that he posessed zero judgement; you never knew where his moral compass began and ended. you could fart in his face, do a handstand with dirty shoes in his freshly detailed mercedes benz and you could then bet your arm on the fact that said actions wouldn’t move a hair on his head.
“he’s only like that with you, rabbit. do you remember when he shunned his ex bestfriend for three months over literally no big deal? what about the time when he punched this one guy for merely making a joke that landed wrong,” jaemin had said to you once over a serving of raspberry gelato. and you know? you never believed it to be true until now.
you were calling your luna a spanner, and putting your selfishness on a huge fashion show statured runway. had you no shame? “i know. i know just how you feel, rabbit. but nothing will ever come between us, no matter how big or small. i won’t let it, so don’t worry, okay?”
oh, how those words did not ring true and would march on to eat the very dust that settled around them.
your first time seeing jaemin, and jaemin alone was on the drive back to jeno’s place after you’d finished your shift at monkey’s magical pizzeria™️. you gritted your teeth at the universe for letting this stupid situation take place while you were in a bright yellow button up shirt that had monkey heads dotted all around it.
what held space in the air around you and jaemin was not quite judgement, but an underlying cringe serenaded the air that sat doormant between the two of you. “so, uh, how was your shift?’ conversation that once flowed like tap water trickled down the steering wheel in metaphorical droplets. you could hardly hear yourself think over this song that was playing way too loud, with bass digging into your shoulders.
“it wasn’t too bad for a weekend, i guess!” jaemin’s brain must have been further away than he would care to admit because only then when he recognised he couldn’t hear you did he turn the volume dial twice, all the way to the left, veins on his hands lingering and being illuminated thanks to the few street lights.
you pleaded with the powers that be to turn the deadbeat, bozo song all the f🐇cking way up so as to let the air die, “earth to rabbit! ever since i got with luna you’ve been avoiding me like the plague or like my butt is ridiculously hairy!” he began to pull over and you craved biting your cuticles clean off as a coping mechanism.
“if you keep this car stationary for more than two minutes, jeno’s gonna see on life360 and question why you aren’t escorting me back to where, i, am, meant, to, be!” you gritted your teeth at him, pulling your hair up in a claw clip; your anger was too mighty, too heavy for you to be able to sit there and look somewhat beautiful.
“excuse me, you fat monkey,” he flicked one of the monkey’s on the sleeve of your shirt, “you were my best friend before you were anyone else’s. i’m not even turning the ignition back on until you start talking.” you groaned painfully; why did he have to say such beautiful sounding things?
“jaemin,” you sighed, heavily, maybe purposefully, “this is really stupid. if anything, you’re the one who’s been hangning us out to dry! luna takes up literally ninety percent of your world now… and that’s great, i mean if you’re happy then i am happy for you. what i’m saying is, in all my seven years of knowing you, the idea of you having a girlfriend in your life is something i have never had to get used to. forgive me for taking some time to find my footing, you big cockroach.”
jaemin huffed, definitely not satisfied with your answer in the slightest way. “now listen to me and listen well, rabbit. i hold you and jeje in about as high regard as i hold my luna.” his luna?! you bit back your vomit with gritted teeth, “things will fall back into place eventually, rabbit.”
that night in jeno’s house, in his black and gold marble tiled bathroom, you may have sobbed your heart out. were you greiving the innocence of your long lost childhood? the past where you were all once much more carefree and devoted to your friendship? it for sure, and definite was not for the reason you readers are thinking it to be.
you had little space and time to dwell as soon exam season hang around your neck like one of jeno’s heavy gold chains. the crispy, boiling summer heat was sitting at your finger tips, begging for the boring stuff like school work and exams to be over.
you were willing to push all of your recent woes to the side for the summer and embrace jaemin, jeno and luna for whatever it was worth. life was too short, right? when you finished your english exam, jeno was waiting outside with a takeaway matcha in his left hand, with your government name written on it. sans rabbit.
you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t swell at the sight. after jaemin acquired luna, your dynamic had changed altogether. things didn’t fall back into place, everyone just adapted to the way jaemin wanted to live his life. and as a result, you and jeno were pushed closer together.
“an iced vanilla ube matcha for one very special rabbit,” he spoke, holding the drink out to you. you smiled up at him, coffee coloured eyes hidden behind a pair of prada sunglasses. “to what do i owe the pleasure?” you asked, taking the first sip.
he pushed his sunglasses up to rest on the crown of his head then, hair pushed back and beautiful face framed perfectly. “well, luna invited us to a pool party that she’s throwing and i thought you’d like,”
“you got me this to soften the blow, right?” you huffed, getting riled up at the fact that, “he didn’t even have the balls to invite us himself? what could he possibly be doing that’s so chaotic he couldn’t even text one of us to invite us?!” and jeno cringed. matcha couldn’t pacify your temper, much to his dismay.
“i don’t know why he’s going out of his way to be this extra, rabbit. my final assumption is that he got too anxious about the IT exam he has on friday and just went totally AWOL on everyone except luna.” your head tilted to the side upon hearing jeno’s assumption.
“you’ve heard from him recently, then?” your heart was actively in the process of being excavated, “well, i mean the last time i heard from him was saturday… when was the last time he text-” but you decided to put a stop to all construction workers, “it doesn’t really matter, so long as he’s talking to one of us. if he’s happy then that’s all that matters to me. are you gonna go to the party?”
jeno held the fire escape door wide open for you to walk through comfortably, and the june sun illuminated your face in a way that made his heart race. “well, you ask this as if you have a choice as to whether you go or not. rabbit, we’re in this together for real now; if it wasn’t for real before. wherever i go, you go… and vice versa.”
and friends, for the first time in history, there was an underlying certainty that lingered in jeno’s statement. you decided to go along with it, and embrace the idea of having somebody so ride-or-die in your life. the double tied ties that once bound you to jaemin firmly began to loosen up, ever so slightly.
you didn’t want to wear a bathing suit to a benign pool party, but what else was there to wear? a scuba suit? after pacing around your room for two hours, you finally settled on a one piece with a baby pink halter neck and one singular tie at the back, it would do for whatever stupid socializing needed to be done.
you put on some white platform flipflops, your prada sunglasses (a birthday gift from your jeno,) and let your hair down; ironically so. you huffed and puffed on the idea of what bag to bring— honk honk!
jeno was waiting outside, so you grabbed your small pink clutch and threw everything that was in your vicinity inside. you ran, to the best of your ability, down the stairs and oepned the front door, already feeling the bass from jeno’s a180 and instead of cringing the way you usually did, your grin grew wider.
“hey! i forgot to say it earlier, but congratulations on finishing your exams, rabbit. welcome to the summer,” he kissed your cheek after you put your seatbelt and you may have blushed, but you chose not to acknowledge it. “thank you, jeje… i’m so glad that it’s over for at least these three months, like i won’t have to smell mister rozanov’s ugly morning breath every tuesday for a while… and that feels pretty good.”
you placed your hands in the center of your lap; for some reason whenever you sat next to jeno, in his car, you didn’t really know what to do with yourself. you’d probably do better being a statue in a museum… it might have been due to the way he only steered with one hand, and the way he was constantly checking his rear view mirror.
when you drove, both of your hands were stuck to the wheel; so the trust jeno held within himself and his reflexes was mesmorising at times. “what are you looking at, rabbit?” god strike you down this instant! “do you think your reaction time and reflexes are that refined to be driving one-handed with i, rabbit, in the car?” jeno’s tongue poked his cheek at your question.
he knew it was all in good fun, which is why, “do you trust me, rabbit?” he took only one second; stuck in traffic, to let himself look into your eyes. you felt yourself falling; on a very thin line. “yes jeno, i do.” even though he was no longer looking at you, you saw the smirk on his face and the steady swallow of his saliva.
“then enough; we have a pool party to get to- and also, i would never put myself in danger, let alone you.” you laughed then, looking out the window at the sight of the suddenly wealthy neighbourhood. he always hit the nail on the head, and never missed a beat.
“i never knew luna lived in this part of town; she’s on par with my richness, rabbit!” you rolled your eyes, but took time to admire the boderline mansions that decorated the sides of the street. you could tell what house was luna’s thanks to the obnoxiously big painted poster, ‘WELCOME TO SUMMER, LFUE BITCHES’.
“well, you certainly can’t buy class, rabbit.” jeno sighed as he began to parallel park opposite the house. you held in your laugh but nodded; to some degree he had a point… and you felt as though you had a right to agree with him.
fleetwood mac cascaded across the countless acres of land that were home to the pool party. it was more like a public swimming pool with the giant vastness of it and the amount of amenities it provided. there were somehow waterpark slides that didn’t look entirely out of place, an array of speakers with a ‘dj’ placed up on a platformed booth.
palm trees, whicker furniture and blown up sofas and beanbags. basically if a storage unit threw up on luna’s whole field, the sight before you would be the result. bubble machines, flourescent lights that couldn’t be seen in the daylight but were still on full beam anyway.
as you searched for more to internally pick at, you laid eyes on him. your estranged best friend, posted up by a palm tree with one arm around luna’s waist, laughing at one of jeno’s jokes. you physically scratched your head then; how come jeno was allowed to stand around jaemin and crack fat ones and was answered to when engaging in conversation?
you must have been scratching your head for about two minutes, “i think whatever you were trying to get out of your hair is gone and dead by now,” someone who you believed to be called donghyuck spoke from behind you. you turned around to look at him.
your height difference was nearly non existent, but you still had to somewhat look up at him. his eyes were brown like milk chocolate, and the sun was working overtime to make them look even more alluring than they actually were. his smile was welcoming and friendly. friendly; that’s what you needed most as of late.
“donghyuck, right?” you held out your right hand for him to shake, missing the way he examined your gel manicure like a particularly tuned connoiseur. “i prefer haechan, actually. feels less governmental in a sense,” you may have laughed; and you may have even found him funny.
his hair was a dark brown that complimented the perfectly toasted shade of his skin, and his smile was persistent as he looked at you, “i’m [y/n], but jaem and jeno call me rabbit and so everyone calls me rabbit.”
“rabbit! there you are!” your veins warmed at the familiarity in that voice. if you’d been wearing your fuzzy pink house slippers, your toes might’ve had a cheeky curl. donghyuck died a quick death at that voice. your head whipped round to lay eyes on where jaemin was coming from when he said your name.
he was closer to you than you’d thought, standing next to jeno by one of the many pop-up bars. you would’ve flown there if you could’ve. “uh- donghyuck, i’ll see you” - “around?” - “yeah, around…”
your hair may have whipped donghyuck’s face as you turned around, but your march was determined as you made your way back to your old familiarity. “hey! how are you? it feels like- well, it has been forever since i’ve heard from you and seen you.” jaemin pulled you into a hug; and for a moment it was as though he was holding you up with the way you melted into his touch.
“oh, i know. i just figured with work and school and exams; i barely had time to scratch my ass. and also you were busy with luna a lot anyway, and i didn’t want to take away from the break you could’ve spent with her.” you would not be defeated by how your heart felt. looking up at his gentle eyes that were framed with his gorgeously delectable hair, you knew you would not fold.
sometimes respect ought to come before love. not sometimes, always.
you could see the gears of his mind working overtime to pick a word to start a fight over, but jeno was your saving grace. he took your sunhat off as the sun was now nearly gone, smoothing down your hair.
now, at the sight of jeno’s hands on you, jaemin may have clenched his fist and thought about different ways to discreetly incapacitate a big, hunky six foot three inch man, but this could entirely be hearsay on my behalf. ;)
“i see that our rabbit has had the pleasure of meeting lee donghyuck, heh?” jaemin might’ve exploded. “you should be wary of him, rabbit, do you remember when he shit himself in the sixth grade? how does one come back from that?” you wanted to laugh, but you decided to ignore him.
“he doesn’t seem that bad, jeje. do you like him?” you asked, looking between the two of your best friends. jeno shrugged, “i mean, i don’t think shitting your pants is a great big of a deal… i think we all might have done different, more worse things,” you laughed and he was then walking away, you presumed to hunt donghyuck down.
“really, so you’re just going to ignore me for the whole night now?” bitterness wrapped around jaemin’s words like a python. you rolled your eyes, “really? the same way you’ve been ignoring me for months, with no explanation, might i add. you expect me to treat you with respect just because you suddenly feel like remembering who i am?”
his eyebrows pressed down hard on his eyelids, “i was going through stuff that i didn’t want to drag you into, i thought it would be way too unfair!” you groaned, “are you f🐇cking kidding me, fatso? drag me- unfair- are you even hearing yourself? jaemin, i was your best friend, how could you be dragging me through your trials and tribulations? they would have been mine to face too!”
jeno remained silent when you stood on your soap box. but the heavy past tense on, “i was your best friend,” hammered into his head. this was like a giant game of jenga, and jaemin had just pulled out one of the most stupid oblongs. out of all to choose, how low could he go?
you must have been very close to crying if you weren’t already, because he reaches out to wipe a tear off of your cheek. it doesn’t last for long, and despite the summer heat you lean into his touch. “i’m sorry, [y/n]. truly,”
he pushed his hair out of his face then, to get a good look at you, “i know this isn’t the best place to hang our dirty washing out, but can we just agree to be cool until we can talk about everything?” and you bit back your smile when you answered, “okay, jaem. sure.” which was so out of your nature.
“guys! look who i scouted out,” jeno stumbled back into the little space you and jaemin had been occupying, and donghyuck was in a headlock in jeno’s right arm. you gulped at the bulge of his biceps, “jeno, maybe don’t try to strangle him out of excitement,” you spoke cautiously in an attempt to save donghyuck from an untimely demise.
why are donghyuck and popping ones clogs always in the same sentence, dear rabbit?
donghyuck coughed half a lung up when he was freed from the shackles of jeno’s strength and by that time both you and jaemin couldn’t help but laugh together. he leant into you as he laughed, but you soon packed it all up.
“are you okay, donghyuck? do you need a drink or something?” he looked down at you as though you were a magical angel, “no, i’m fine. thanks for saving me, arc angel rabbit,” you rolled your eyes.
“haechan, do you remember when you shit yourself in sixth grade?” it was jeno’s turn to laugh then, but he held the bridge of his nose with his index and thumb. “jaem, just drop it bro… why is this such a big deal to you?” donghyuck just rolled his eyes, “hey jaem, where’s your girl at?” you swallowed the lump in your throat as donghyuck placed an arm around your shoulder.
jaemin didn’t say anything and you contemplated how much better you would feel if the ground were to swallow you up… “y’know, i do want to be a part of this trio ordeal you’ve got going on, so yes jaemin, i do remember when i shat my pants in sixth grade… i found out that i’m incredibly lactose intolerant the hard way. happy?”
“there, was that really so difficult?” jaemin partronised him with the way his head was tilted to the side, beckoning donghyuck to say something borderline disrespectful. “who shit in your cornflakes today jaem, nevermind haechan shitting his pants, your mood stinks!” donghyuck thanked jeno for sticking up for him, and to this day you’re still not quite sure what he must have been thinking.
were you guys always like this? was this some weird roleplay he just happened to walk in upon? jeno stormed off shortly after that, leaving donghyuck to look at his now grass stained beige gazelles. “jaemin, your attitude stinks. and what is this weird obsession with shitting and shit and shitting shit shitty shit all of a sudden?” you huffed and shook your head profusely, “donghyuck, we weren’t actively hiring for a fourth person to join our friend group, but if you wish to join you are more than welcome,”
of course, if this was all occuring a few years ago, donghyuck would not be welcome; nobody would be welcome for that matter. the doors of your pretty little pink bubble would’ve been barricaded with industrial locks and chair backs. but you, in your recent age, decided it would be better to go with the grain rather than against it.
donghyuck’s courage may have turned the tides in his favor when it came to how you viewed him, “and, you are really courageous for retelling the story of the time you shat your pants… i think i would’ve really liked a bit more back story though,” you smiled, walking away from him to catch up to jeno who had gone on a walk- more than likely having ended up at the open bar.
you heard donghyuck’s burst of laughter and it itched your brain in an addicting way.
you lay eyes on the black haired, heavily muscled, prada wearing jeno of yours, “do you know what’s gotten into him, jeje? he seems so out of it,” you waited in line with him. “rabbit, are you for real? he saw you again for the first time in like two months and nearly died because of how beautiful you look. do not feed me with your usual näive bullshit, okay?”
you debated flicking the back of his head, but decided to be the better person, “i was just aksing for your opinion, monkey. and i wasn’t fishing for anything, but thanks?” and concluded that maybe jeno was just too focused on locking in his fourth double shot of captain morgan and cola to actually comprehensively analyse the situation.
there was no way that jaemin showing off like a two year old tantrum-riddled toddler was thanks to seeing you again. but the innocent angel on your shoulder begged for you to imagine what might come of you two if he had the courage to ever speak up and tell you that you looked pretty in your annoyingly itchy swimsuit.
“i’m sure you’ve heard this before, but denial is a river, rabbit.” you disregarded his comment with the words that were spoken with such dryness, “i really, really like this song, d’you wanna dance?” you extended an olive branch in an attempt to diffuse the way captain morgan had gone straight through his stomach right to his veins.
the bass pumped your veins and the vibrations trickled up through your dior wedges as he took your hand, crunching the red solo cup with his right hand, throwing it into the trash bag without any extra effort exuded.
hot. you thought, but you’d never say that. “i never pinned you,” he stutters as he acknowledges the stature of what he said, “i mean, i never pinned you as the type to like esdeekid…?” you laughed, there was still a small window of time for you to talk before you had to recite word for word.
“why? not polite enough?” you tilted your head with inquisition and all he did was copy you.
somehow the next song rolled into jeno’s favourite and by then you were surrounded by all your bananas, except for one you didn’t recognise. well, you’d recognised him— his biceps, around campus or in hallways, but you had no name for the peculiar face.
“hi, [y/n]” the bicep guy knew your name?! your head twitched at the speed you’d turned around to acknowledge the fact that he knew your name; your government name. ‘rabbit’ had become more than a middle name after hearing it for years on end. this felt good for you, it felt refreshing.
if you weren’t borderline tipsy, you’d see the way jeno’s expression turned into an absolute puzzled and lost one. in his deep baritone voice, who did this guy think he was?
“i’m jisung park. like donghyuck’s bestfriend, casually the best football player there is, y’know…” you smiled at him and shook his hand at the fade out of the song, “get in line, brother,” jeno spoke with a firm smile and nod of his head.
“i’ve seen your arm— i mean, i’ve seen you around… nice to meet you!” god, rabbit, you may as well have worn a ‘i’m thirsty for your biceps’ burger king crown on your head. good save, you thought to yourself.
₊⋆·˚🍌.‧₊˚ 🙉༉‧₊˚.
jeno’s benz had never been more packed with people. he was so tempted to strap donghyuck to the roof with a seatbelt, but you convinced and pleaded for him not to do so. thus, you and jeno were comfortable and fluid with movement in the front while luna sat on jaemin’s lap, donghyuck sat squished in the middle and jisung nearly stuck to the window. they all fit though, and that was the main thing.
“froyo baby, here we come!” your froyo obsession had become a contagious disease amongst all of your bananas. jeno was prone to white chocolate and kiwi, and you’d never really paid any mind to what the others liked to order.
“holy fucking balls, jeno, i just whacked my head on your stupid car window!” jisung groaned and donghyuck snickered at him. “that’s not my problem, dude, sit differently then,” jeno’s response was flat, “are you okay jisung, do you want to swap?” you asked, turning around to look at him.
donghyuck’s hair was pointing in every direction because all of the windows were open when jeno had been going ninety kilometers per hour, but somehow jisung’s looked perfect. “y’know rabbit, if you were anybody else i would jump at the chance. but thank you honey,”
all of your body was being pulled forward and then backward; jeno had slammed on the breaks. “if we knocked on your fucking head would your brain just echo the fucking sound of the knock? what the fuck is wrong with you, jeno?”
“not cool, dude!” jisung held a different part of his head in pain and you looked at jeno with your head titled. what was he playing at? he copied the way you were looking at him with a pout and the darkness in his eyes suggested something along the lines of jealousy… but maybe he just hated terms of endearment.
you eventually made it to the froyo shop with all parties intact and no knocked heads or missing braincells.
“do you have any idea of what you want to do in the future, rabbit?” donghyuck questioned as he dug his spoon further into his XXL cup. what a good question— one you still had no answer to. “well, when i was younger i wanted to be a pilot but thinking of it now, it’s just too long winded. too involved, too much commitment and i don’t think i can bring that to the table. ants in my pants; i’m prone to that.”
“well, we all know that jeno’s going to be a CEO in some famous company, luna’s going to be a fashion designer, jisung a professional footballer, what do you want to be in the future, haechan?” jaemin asked, once full cup now empty with a napkin scrunched inside.
had he always been this annoying? why did he have to speak for everyone all the time? you looked away from him and laid eyes on jeno instead. to your surprise he was already watching you, and rolled his eyes for a split second as if to convey to you that he knew just how you felt.
“i don’t actually wanna be a footballer, i want to be a personal trainer. like i love the idea of helping people who want to better themselves,” jisung spoke, to which you stuck your bottom lip out and nodded.
“tell us, haechan, what would you like to do?” luna spoke, holding onto jaemin’s hand and caressing it gently. you wished then that jeno’s mercedes could fly so that you could run outside and fly away from the shambles that this froyo outing had become.
“rabbit, can i actually talk to you outside for a second, please? like would you do me the honor?” the most insufferable person sitting on the table spoke up, jaemin, and it seemed like there was no universe in which saying “no,” seemed effective. he was already out of his chair, and you looked to jeno; as though it was a reflex, expecting to see some sort of distaste in his face.
but there was nothing of the sort, just an encouraging nod. you huffed, “jaemin, this better be good if you’re making me walk all the way outside for it,” jaemin headed out first, holding the door open for you momentarily.
your body felt the transition of cooling AC to humid, sweaty air. and you hated it, and you could feel yourself getting annoyed and agitated and pressed and just about everything negative under the sun. “get it over with, spit it out, whatever stupid shit you have to say!”
you rested all your weight on one of your hips as you tapped your right foot on the ground. “i just wanted to say to you that i am truly sorry for ignoring you the way i did for all those months, especially after i basically lied to your face by telling you that things would fall back into place. and it’s still not lost on me, the way you used the past tense when referring to me as your best friend and that hurt me way more than i thought it would. and if that’s how you feel then i get it, but please know i didn’t want to be the guy who constantly complains and wallows in the most ridiculous sh!t. you deserved more than to listen to me contemplate the entire meaning of life and learn how to be in a relationship and accept the idea of falling in love and whatever else there was. i am so happy that you had jeno to keep you company, and i know that you two are closer now for it. but i want you to know that i’m sorry that i disrespected you. if you ever feel as though you could slide back into your old place, right here, next to my heart, then it will be open for you, rabbit,”
there was this chip on your shoulder that you carried through your life, that sometimes, more often than not, shot you in the foot. because jaemin had done this once now, there was no telling that he wouldn’t do it again, or even something along the same lines of it. you didn’t tear up the way you imagined you would in your head when you played this out in your head for so many nights in a row.
“jeno is doing a pretty good job of being my best friend as of late, jaem. but if you’re really sorry, like deeply in the pit of your heart, then i’m willing to forgive you.” before you could come up with any more digs, “do you want me to beg on the pavement, knees and all, rabbit?” you nodded, morefool jaemin.
you burst out laughing as he huffed and began to kneel down. you weren’t going to save him from this, you were going to watch this and enjoy every moment of it. one knee hit the grubby pavement, and you felt your miniscule ego being stroked.
the other knee hit then too, “rabbit, i am so sorry for having hurt you so deeply. i love you and i will never hurt you again, i swear,” you took his words for gospel, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. before you continued to enjoy the sight below you, you looked to the froyo shop’s window to see jeno watching.
your heart swirled and for mere seconds it felt like old times all over again.
“thank you, jaemin. apology accepted.” he went on to kiss the tips of your shoes and you nearly peed your pants thanks to the intensity of your laughter. how ridiculous, how dumb was he, how dumb did he look!?
“i love you, rabbit.” he said gently, dusting off his knees as he was in an upright position by then. “i know you do, you knelt on the bare pavement for me,” you stomped one of your heels into the bare concrete in amusement, trying to stabilise yourself after laughing half of your heart out.
“jaemin, now your pants look like you were the one that shit themselves, beware of the self-depricating jokes you’re about to overdose on!” donghyuck’s left arm cascaded across your shoulder blades as he joined in on the laughter.
donghyuck’s warmth shouldn’t have radiated off of him the way it did, and you shouldn’t have felt a streak of resolve thanks to the idea of jaemin being humbled by the mere idea of shitting his pants, but here you were.
your hand trembled slightly as you made your way to hold his fingers, “haechan, at least the shit in my pants is worth something, unlike yours,” the air twisted into something sticky and awkward, and jaemin’s white linen pants were now grey where the kneecaps were concerned.
“minnie, what on earth are you doing on the floor?” luna’s sickly sweet voice poked, and jeno followed out after her and you were gonna explode because they’d left jisung alone yet again. jaemin looked askance, he glanced at you; he was kneeling, one knee up and one knee down, and then glanced to luna.
jeno held his gaze the longest, whatever must’ve been underlying in the stare made jaemin get up and back on his feet, “i was just tying my shoes, lu,” to which jeno scoffed, crossing his arms. you didn’t quite know where to look, the biceps jeno held were nearly streching the sleeves of his white polo-shirt.
luna looked at you sternly, “luna, why would i make him get on the floor… quit cooking me alive with your heinous stares!” and all you could do was wonder why jaemin just couldn’t be honest. he wanted to kneel on the pavement, and why was this just such a big deal?
“well, i dunno, i guess it’s just kinda strange that you guys came outside to talk and next thing i know he’s kneeling on the pavement, getting dirty knees, i mean who knows what you must’ve told him. i think it’s common knowledge that you could say ‘jump, jaemin, jump!’ and he’d say ‘how high?’”
was she for fucking real? you looked at jaemin to find him scratching his head, “are you for real, right now, luna? and you, asshole, why has the cat suddenly got your tongue? reign your fucking girl in, jaemin, i mean it,”
by now, donghyuck had gone back in to sit with jisung, and jeno had edged nearer to you. luna’s jaw was closer to the floor than it was to the full moon, and jaemin was still stuck on mute. what a pathetic excuse of a boyfriend, eh?
all of this to say, whenever you argued or got into some type of discourse with jaemin, it was as though everyone else and everything surrounding you would dissipate into a pool of nothingness. all that existed was both you and jaemin, in a midnight black abyss.
you sensed that jeno was near, but even if he spoke, you aren’t certain you could’ve been able to actually hear him. all you could see was jaemin, all you could feel was feelings based on jaemin. how incredulously stupid.
“luna, i have to say that i do disagree with the claim that jaemin would jump to the milkyway if i asked him to. you of all people would know that something like that is just borderline insane. and also, i was your friend before you even cared that jaemin existed! so it’s nice to know you care for me, thanks,”
you gave yourself permission to tear up at the idea of luna choosing a stupid rock with a cock over you.
luna’s eyeliner began to smudge thanks to the few tears that were gathering in her waterline, grip on her gucci clutch firm and unswaying. “y’know what, jaemin, i actually cannot be asked for you either,”
“i think you’re overreacting, rabbit, i’m sure luna doesn’t mean things in the way that you’re interpreting them as. luna, i was on the floor because it’s an inside joke that goes back years, really, and it means nothing,” it was jeno’s turn to scoff and shake his head in disbelief.
“jaemin, you can put the bow and arrow down, dude, all you’re doing is shooting yourself in the foot double time,” a few stray tears trickled down your face, but you inhaled furiously. your anger was much too loud, bulky and clunky to allow you to wallow in what had happened. luna looked remorseful, as did jaemin, but that wasn’t good enough.
“an inside joke that goes back years? like that makes it so, so much better, dipshit!” you were fairly certain that both luna and jaemin had misplaced their marbles. “jaemin, you’re a joke. you gave donghyuck so much shit for shitting his pants, but all you do is shit on everything you surround yourself with. you are so selfish it sickens me down to my bones and you may scoff and roll your eyes when i tell you that it’s basically common knowledge that you have so much growing up to do.”
luna groaned, “you’re always so insistent on stealing the spotlight, rabbit, give that fat mouth of yours a rest, for christ’s sake!” and you were fairly certain jeno had replied to her, but you were too focused on the look on jaemin’s face.
“i think it’s best that we take jaemin home, and let donghyuck and jisung get you home, lulu. i think time apart is best for everyone right now.” jeno beckoned for both donghyuck and jisung to leave the diner, and they were soon outside too.
“i may as well sit in the fucking trunk, i’d really prefer to be as far away from jaemin as possible, jeje.” you snarled, wiping the corners of your eyes as jeno went to drag jaemin to his mercedes. “rabbit, i am really sorry for all of this,” luna sobbed as she opened the car door, remorseful eyes lingering on you a little longer than normal.
“lulu, i think you’ve said enough for one night,” jisung spoke, pulling you into a side hug before getting in the car too. leaving just you and donghyuck outside, he bounced on his feet as he stared at you, “i’m sorry rabbit, it seems like these days you really can’t catch a break, huh?”
he reached out gently, shakily, to wipe away one stray tear with the pad of his thumb. his touch was testing the waters, but you couldn’t succumb to the feeling calling you.
you cracked a laugh, “i really can’t. and i’m sorry i brought up the whole ‘shitting your pants’ thing again… i feel like that will never, ever die. sorry, hyuck,” and he cracked a smile too, “it’s okay rabbit, i’m just glad you could use it as ammunition,”
his hair looked even more touchable than usual, and if there was a better time and place you’d probably be reaching out to touch it. you stole a glance at his maple syrup coloured biceps and made the executive choice to look away to save yourself the embarassment of drooling in front of not just donghyuck, but all the other bananas you’d forgotten about.
he held his arms out and pulled you in for a hug, and his hug was unlike any you’d received before. jeno’s was homely; the kind you could melt into. donghyucks was firm and unswaying. “maybe text me later so i know that you made it home, okay?”
“[your governmental full name]” you wanted to rip jeno’s eyebrows off for calling you out like that, but donghyuck must have picked up on the underlying tone because he almost instantaneously pulled away from you and got into the drivers seat of his navy blue golf.
“ġejja!” you stormed to the mercedes but opened her passenger door ever so gently. “did we ruin your moment, rabbit?” jaemin asked as if he hadn’t been in an argumental scene with you merely ten minutes beforehand.
jeno scoffed, because he knew the answer to that question was, “yes, jaemin, yes you both did. are you pleased with yourselves?” and the tone you used made jeno press the accelerator that much more. jaemin laughed then, reaching out from the middle seat to caress the loose strands of hair that had escaped out of your braid.
“i am very, very pleased, rabbit.” jeno spoke firmly, turning up the music the tiniest bit. you gritted your teeth then, “i swear to god, if either one of you dare mention that stupid story of the time donghyuck shat his pants ever again, i will lose it,” jaemin and jeno laughed in unison.
“i’m sorry for all of that bullshit back there, rabbit. you know that right?” jaemin spoke cautiously, and jeno rested his left hand on your kneecap. “i know, jaem, i’m really sorry for what i said too.” sometimes the longevity of having known someone automatically outweighs your own morals and standards. this was one of those times.
in jeno’s silent opinion, jaemin deserved to be smacked sideways for letting tonight happen, for not sticking up for you, for kneeling down on the floor for you; the latter was merely due to jealousy. he wanted, and borderline needed to be the only person capable of doing that for you. he wanted to be the only one to stroke your ego and give you that type of satisfaction.
but because jeno admired the way you loved jaemin, he respected the way you chose to tackle situations like these. that was one line jeno would never cross.
“you do one more thing and i will run you over with this car, jaemin, i can promise you that,” you’d forgive him, but you wouldn’t forget all of this. even if it made you rot from the inside out.
₊⋆·˚🍌.‧₊˚ 🐒༉‧₊˚.
the refreshingly cold, diamond blue ocean kissed your skin as you jumped off of the concrete diving board. you sunk down so far, and when you got to the surface you screamed at the temperature piercing your skin.
“you went so far down, rabbit, are you okay?” donghyuck burst out laughing, treading water all the more to stay afloat before he’d sink to the bottom too.
“yeah, i managed to not swallow about ten gallons of sea water, so i’m cool for now,” you swam closer to him, so close he took the risk of resting his hands on your shoulders.
you gulped; his biceps were inches from your face and you wanted nothing more than to grip them. you began to reach out when suddenly, “canonball!” you didn’t even have time to grit your teeth at the meticulousness of jeno, because you were drenched in more seawater. he plummeted right next to you.
when he rose to the surface, he was hugging you from behind. “jeje, what on earth are you doing?!”
he tsked, “unclench your teeth when you talk to me, rabbit,” donghyuck faded away to you because almost instantaneously the only thing on your mind was biting jeno in an attempt to humble him.
but if a seagull were to fly by, they’d see the way haechan was internally kicking himself for not being more bold. jeno was firm with his stare, waiting for haechan to look at him and acknowledge the difference in the way you acted with jeno.
“haechan, i think jisung was looking for you over at the ice cream van, i’m not too sure though.” you rolled your eyes at jeno, because it was so clearly a lie, “well i just saw him sitting in the lifeguard but with kai, i don’t think—“
jeno was staring donghyuck down, and it must have been a powerful enough stare for donghyuck to forget what he was saying, “actually, yeah i might’ve missed him leaving there and going to the van.”
“hey, hyuck i might actually come with you,” you made an attempt to turn around and swim toward the chrome ladder, but your left foot was being pulled back.
donghyuck didn’t linger around waiting for you, he accepted the fact that it was pointless. “i’ll get you an icecream later, rabbit, just stay here with me,” this was wrong, because the tone he was using was inclined to make your heart thump and the ends of your fingers feel like sparkly, static.
you couldn’t hold the intense gaze jeno had on you, extra dark roast espresso eyes reading you like one of your favourite books. you laid on your back in an attempt to float around instead. you exhaled deeply, you could keep your cool rabbit, couldn’t you?
no, you totally could totally not keep your cool. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆🪽🫧🐇💋‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍
“why are you cockblocking me?” you only had the courage to let those words leave your mouth because you were looking up at the baby blue sky. not for long, because soon his arms were around you as though he was holding you like a bride, looking down at you.
“donghyuck could’ve stayed rabbit, i didn’t do anything to him, did i?” you rolled your eyes, breathing slowly.
“i’m not stupid, jeno. i know what you get like,” he scoffed, “just answer me this, do you really like donghyuck?” eyebrows pressed downward unknowingly displaying his green painted curiousity own toward the seabed were a display of his curiosity.
“canonball!” jaemin’s voice ricocheted across the bay, giving you no chance to answer jeno. when he resurfaced, you swam away from jeno’s grip. “what’s it to you if she does, jen? i think our rabbit is free to like whoever she wants to like, no?”
“thank you, jaemin! yeah jeno, what is it to you?” jeno squinted at both you and jaemin, the same feeling returning in his stomach— the feeling he’d get whenever it felt as though you two were ganging up on him, even if it was in jest. the feeling he’d get whenever all three of you being so close together and in love was so tangible, so near him he could nearly taste it.
but when it came to love, and all the random things inbetween, he felt it better to beat around the bush. the midday sun beamed down on his midnight black hair, to some extent making it glisten as though it was a sparkly night sky.
“i just think you could do better, that’s all, rabbit.” you took a break from admiring jeno to look at the way jaemin was now tilting his head to the side with a tight lipped smile, as if to say jeno did have a point. you barely had time to get the words out of your mouth, but you knew what was coming— you knew jaemin would swim to jeno’s side.
you rolled your eyes, “well i think he’s cute, and he’s funny and he has really good movie reccommendations,” and you weren’t saying any of this with an edge, or in an attempt to make them feel such childish things as jealousy. these days, donghyuck seemed like the better choice out of all the fish in the sea.
“okay jen, we should drop it before she jumps us and like steals our toes or something,” jaemin spoke as he went to float on his back. you could see your fingers getting pruny, “i think i’m going to go and find donghyuck, see you two around?”
jeno huffed and nodded his head and jaemin mumbled some kind of a goodbye or a see you later.
Fire Prince Donghyuck x Water Princess Reader - Arranged Marriage (smut)(repost)
The Fire Prince and Water Princess are set to be married for a political alliance so both countries can be at peace, but maybe it turns into something more...
ATLA inspired!
11.8k, unprotected sex, shower sex, dirty talk, making out, sexual tension
----------------
The palace air was thick with formality and tension. Crystal waves carved along the ceiling of the Water Kingdom's great hall, the cool breeze enchanted through the walls to keep guests comfortable. And yet, the moment Fire Prince Haechan stepped into the chamber, everything felt warmer.
Y/N inhaled sharply.
There he was.
The man she was bound to marry.
She hadn’t known what to expect—only vague reports from her advisors. “He’s clever.” “He’s temperamental.” “He speaks like the sun glows for him.” Not one of them had said beautiful.
But he was. Unfairly so.
Sun-kissed skin glowed golden under the morning light. His shoulder-length brown hair was swept back, exposing his forehead, which gave him a princely aura—but his eyes held mischief, like he knew every dirty secret the world had to offer. His uniform was red and black, trimmed in gold, hugging his frame, collar just low enough to hint at a toned chest. His lips curved when he caught her staring.
Smirking. He’s smirking.
Y/N straightened her spine, eyes narrowing. She was a princess of the tides, trained not to flinch under pressure—certainly not at a cocky fire prince with a gaze that wandered too slow, too low.
And wander he did.
Haechan felt his chest tighten as he looked at her. Fuck.
She was stunning.
Silky hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, skin glowing like it had been kissed by moonlight, lips perfectly pink, full and glossy. Her eyes caught him like a current, hard to look away from, especially when they sparkled with challenge. She wore a soft blue ceremonial gown, fitted at the waist, water jewels stitched into the bodice that shimmered when she moved. Haechan let his gaze travel down—just enough to note the soft swell of her chest under the fabric, before returning lazily to her face.
He liked the way she bristled.
“I take it you’re Princess Y/N,” he said, his voice low, smooth like slow-burning embers.
Y/N tilted her chin. “And you must be Prince Haechan. I expected someone taller.”
His brows lifted, lips twitching. “I expected someone... less cold.”
“I am the daughter of water,” she replied with a cool smile. “I run deep.”
Their parents, engaged in stiff conversation a few feet away, seemed unaware of the verbal sparring. The two royal families had kept their distance for centuries, water and fire locked in uneasy rivalry. This marriage was supposed to seal the first treaty between their kingdoms.
A symbol of peace.
Yet standing here, with their eyes clashing like flame against ocean, it felt anything but peaceful.
“I suppose we’re supposed to smile and look grateful,” Haechan said under his breath, voice pitched for her alone. “Pretend this is what we wanted.”
Y/N resisted the urge to glance at his lips. “Isn’t it?”
He leaned in just slightly, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. “I didn’t ask for a stranger.”
She didn’t flinch. “Neither did I.”
A beat of silence passed, heavy with awareness. Somewhere behind them, her father mentioned something about ceremonial customs, his voice clipped and formal.
Y/N finally looked away.
But she could still feel Haechan's gaze on her.
Lingering.
Burning.
The meeting adjourned with stiff handshakes and overly polite smiles. The adults discussed ceremony details, treaties, dowries. But Haechan didn’t care about any of it.
Not when she was walking beside him, her chin high, her lips pressed tight in practiced serenity.
They were shown into a private chamber for “acquaintance and bonding,” the advisors said, as if either of them could relax under the weight of centuries of political tension and a wedding in seven days.
The moment the doors closed, Y/N turned to him.
“I think it’s best we set expectations now,” she said evenly, voice calm, practiced. “This marriage is a symbol. A duty. Nothing more.”
Haechan raised a brow. “Nothing more?”
She nodded once, folding her hands delicately in front of her. “We’re doing this for our people. So I’d like our relationship to reflect that. Respectful. Professional. No unnecessary intimacy.”
He blinked once, then laughed—sharp and amused, the sound low and rich like a crackling flame.
She frowned. “What’s funny?”
“You,” he said, grinning. “This whole ‘professional relationship’ thing. You say it like you don’t feel it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Feel what?”
He stepped a little closer, voice dropping. “The heat. You don’t feel it yet, do you?”
She sucked in a breath, cheeks flushing pink. “I feel nothing of the sort.”
“Sure,” he said casually, stepping back with a smirk. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
Y/N bristled. The way he said Princess—so smooth, so mocking—it made her blood boil in the worst way. He wasn’t taking any of this seriously. Just like the rumors said: Prince Haechan, the Fire Kingdom’s cocky golden boy. Spoiled, reckless, dangerously charming.
Her gaze flicked to the floor, frustrated, then back up—just in time to catch him staring at her hand.
At the delicate silver ring on her finger.
She stiffened.
“What’s that?” he asked, his tone curious but sharper now. His eyes locked on the band with a seriousness that hadn’t been there a second ago.
Y/N’s entire body went tense. “None of your business.”
His gaze snapped back to her face. And then—
He grinned.
Slowly. Like a match being struck.
“Oh,” he said, eyes dragging down her figure now with less subtlety. “Oh.”
Y/N’s cheeks went crimson. “Don’t you dare—”
“A purity ring,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’ve got one of those?”
She turned away, scoffing. “You’re so full of yourself. I knew the rumors were true.”
Haechan crossed his arms, still smirking, voice cocky. “They usually are. But... it seems like you’re into that.”
She gasped, spinning back around. “You’re insane!”
But he just leaned against the nearest pillar, looking entirely too pleased with himself as she stormed toward the door.
“See you next week, soon-to-be-wife,” he called as she yanked it open.
Y/N didn’t look back.
But Haechan stayed where he was, hands in his pockets, heart thudding faster than he’d like to admit.
He hadn’t expected to want her. Not really. Not like that.
And now? Now all he could think was:
Shit.
I’m going to enjoy this.
---------------
The Water Kingdom had never seen a ceremony like this.
Petals floated in the enchanted air, suspended like glittering snowflakes that shimmered as they caught the light. An orchestra played gentle strings, the melody laced with old hymns from both kingdoms—fire and water woven together for the first time. The entire capital had gathered beyond the palace gates, watching the union of two enemies turned allies. Of two strangers turned husband and wife.
Y/N stood at the edge of the marble aisle, her gown flowing like a tide around her feet. The pale silk hugged her figure before cascading into layers of sheer, iridescent fabric. Tiny crystals had been stitched into the sleeves and train, catching the light with every step she took. Her hair was woven into an elegant twist, a delicate water lily tucked just behind her ear.
She didn’t tremble. She didn’t frown.
But her heart was pounding.
When the palace doors opened and she stepped inside, the entire room inhaled.
Including Haechan.
He stood at the altar in deep crimson ceremonial robes tailored perfectly to his frame, the collar low and lined in gold, his hair brushed back again, a warm firestone pin glittering at his chest. But it wasn’t his outfit that made her breath catch.
It was the way he looked at her.
Like the whole world had shifted.
She stopped in front of him, eyes meeting his—nervous, unsure—and he leaned forward slightly, the officiator’s voice just beginning in the background.
“You’re beautiful,” Haechan whispered.
Y/N blinked.
Her lips parted in surprise—then curved into the softest smile. “Thank you.”
They joined hands, his palm warm against hers, fingers curling gently. She expected arrogance, some smirking joke. Instead, he held her like she mattered. Like this mattered.
When it came time for vows, Haechan surprised her again.
He didn’t stumble, didn’t look smug or bored. He spoke clearly, gaze fixed on hers like she was the only person in the room.
“I promise to protect you,” he said quietly, voice low and serious. “To stand beside you, and not in front or behind. I’ll give you the life you deserve—not just as a princess or queen, but as yourself. I’ll learn to love what you love. I’ll fight for what you believe in.”
Y/N's throat tightened. The words were simple, but… honest. No performance.
She spoke her vows just as softly, her eyes shining by the time they finished.
When the officiator declared them husband and wife, Haechan stepped closer.
His hand lifted, fingertips brushing her chin as he tilted it up. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the strange intimacy of this moment—before their first kiss had even begun. He didn’t rush it. He just looked at her like he needed to remember this.
And then he kissed her.
Slow. Sweet. Just a brush of mouths.
But it left her a little breathless anyway.
When they pulled apart, they were both smiling.
The crowd erupted into cheers, and they descended the stairs, hands still joined, fireworks beginning to blossom in the skies above the palace dome.
Their first dance was held in the grand ballroom, golden chandeliers flickering with soft flame, enchanted rain dancing just outside the windows.
Everyone watched.
But Y/N didn’t care. Not when he held her waist gently, pulling her in.
They swayed together, slowly.
And for a second, it didn’t feel like duty. It didn’t feel like obligation.
Just… warmth.
She leaned in closer, voice soft by his ear. “Did you mean it?”
Haechan pulled back to look at her. “Mean what?”
“Your vows.”
He smiled—just a little—his voice a quiet rasp. “Every word.”
She stared at him, eyes searching, lips barely parted.
Then he leaned in again, his next words brushing hot against the shell of her ear.
“I don’t do or say anything caring what anyone thinks.”
When she pulled back to look at him again, there was a new look in her eyes.
Something uncertain.
Something intrigued.
And Haechan—
Well.
He hadn’t planned to care.
But now?
Now, he was starting to.
----------------
The royal island estate was made for beauty. For romance.
The white-sand shores curved along crystal waters, untouched and hidden from the world. Their private villa sat atop a lush hill, its wide balcony wrapped in flowing curtains, overlooking a sea that shimmered under the starlight.
It was paradise.
And it was hers.
Theirs.
Y/N stood in the doorway of the master suite, barefoot on the polished wood, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
One room.
One bed.
Of course.
The servants had filled the space with soft candles, flowers from both kingdoms twined into garlands across the carved headboard. A silver tray of wine and fruits sat untouched on the low table. And in the center of it all, that massive, silken bed.
Y/N didn’t look at Haechan. Not at first.
But she could feel him behind her. The warmth of him. The weight.
She could hear him unbuttoning his jacket, dropping it somewhere behind her with a casual sigh.
“Pretty place,” he murmured.
She swallowed. “It’s a tradition. Every royal marriage ends with a retreat to one of the sacred islands.”
“I like it.”
Y/N finally turned. Haechan had loosened his collar, kicked off his boots. The sunset behind him made his tan skin glow like embers, and when he met her eyes, he smirked faintly.
“Are you going to sleep in that gown?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Want help deciding?”
Her jaw tightened. “We’re married now. I thought you’d be less irritating.”
He walked past her, slow and sure, brushing her shoulder with his as he moved toward the bed. “That’s the thing about marriage, Princess,” he said, tossing himself down across the mattress. “Now I get to irritate you for the rest of your life.”
She turned away, cheeks warm.
She wasn’t afraid of the wedding night. She’d prepared for it. She’d assumed, expected, that it would happen now. That he would try.
And yet—he didn’t move.
He just laid there, one arm propped behind his head, watching her with something unreadable in his eyes.
Finally, she cleared her throat. “Aren’t you…?”
Haechan tilted his head. “Aren’t I what?”
“Going to… consummate the marriage?”
A pause.
Then—that smile again.
“Didn’t you say you wanted this to be professional?” he asked, feigning confusion. “Strictly duty?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You—”
He sat up slowly, voice dropping low, slow like smoke curling around her spine.
“I won’t touch you,” he said, eyes locked on hers, “until you’re crying for it.”
Y/N froze.
A breath caught in her throat. She gasped softly, like the air had been pulled from the room.
“You’re insane,” she hissed, stepping back instinctively. “That won’t happen.”
He just laid back again, smug and glowing and dangerous. “Sure, Princess. Whatever you say.”
Fuming, she stomped toward the bed, grabbing every pillow she could and stacking them straight down the center—walling him off.
“You’re impossible.”
He didn’t stop chuckling until she was under the covers, back to him, arms folded.
With a flick of his fingers, the lantern blew out.
Darkness settled around them, soft and thick.
The ocean whispered beyond the open balcony. Wind danced through the trees.
And in the silence, Y/N lay awake far too long, heart racing, skin hot, aware of the fact that on the other side of that ridiculous pillow wall—
Was her husband.
Smirking in the dark.
Waiting.
“This is ridiculous,” Y/N muttered as they strolled through the winding gardens of the island villa the next morning, sunlight glinting through the palm leaves. “We’re doing everything backwards.”
Haechan looked over at her, sipping lazily from a chilled coconut. “What do you mean?”
She gestured vaguely. “We got married first. Now we’re dating and getting to know each other.”
He grinned. “Better than dating first and then realizing the sex is bad.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You—!”
“Kidding,” he said, very much not kidding, eyes gleaming as he tossed the coconut aside and leaned closer. “Mostly.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and kept walking, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.
They spent the late morning exploring the island’s hidden paths and secret groves, followed by a private lunch on a terrace carved into the cliffs, overlooking the turquoise sea. The food was decadent — grilled mango-glazed fish, warm honeyed bread, spiced vegetables — but it was the company that made her heart beat too fast.
She hated how easy it was with him.
Hated how they laughed, how he teased her into smiling when she didn’t want to, how he challenged everything she said and meant it, how—despite the heat between them—he still hadn’t made a single move.
It made her feel insane.
“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?” she asked dryly, pushing her plate away.
“Not when I’m saying interesting things.”
“You don’t say interesting things.”
“I said you were beautiful.”
“That’s just lazy flattery.”
“Worked, didn’t it?” he replied with a wink.
She flushed and stood. “I’m going swimming.”
His brows lifted. “Without me?”
“Obviously.”
But of course, he followed.
—
The private lagoon was quiet, hidden away by thick jungle. A soft waterfall spilled into the blue-green pool, mist catching the sun in delicate bursts of light.
Y/N dove in first, sleek and fluid like she was born for the water. Her hair trailed behind her like seaweed, her limbs graceful and easy. Haechan watched from the edge, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek.
“Are you part siren?” he asked as she resurfaced. “Be honest.”
“No,” she called back, smoothing her wet hair over her shoulder. “Just better than you at this.”
“I’d argue,” he said, stripping off his shirt and stepping into the water, “but I’m too distracted.” His eyes raked up and down her body.
She turned—just in time to see him walking in, sun casting his body in sharp lines, muscles flexing as he moved. Her eyes dipped briefly, involuntarily, before snapping away.
“You’re disgusting.”
He laughed. “And you’re still staring.”
Y/N splashed him without mercy. He took it with a grin, wading deeper until the water reached his waist.
But then—
He looked at her.
Really looked.
Dripping, glowing, bare shoulders rising and falling with each breath. The water hugged her body, translucent fabric floating up, revealing the soft swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist. Her skin shimmered in the light like polished pearls.
Haechan felt the air leave his lungs.
That’s mine, he thought, shocked.
That beautiful, clever, infuriating girl—was his.
His wife.
He let his gaze trail down again, slower this time. No shame. No apology.
And when she caught him?
She glared. “You’re not even trying to hide it.”
He grinned lazily, voice low and teasing. “Why would I?”
Then, leaning back in the water, he added:
“I might’ve married you out of duty, Princess…” His gaze raked her once more. “But I’m still the real winner.”
Y/N looked away with a scoff, swimming farther out.
But her thighs pressed together under the water.
She hated that she could feel it—the heat between her legs, the thrum in her chest, the pull of his voice like a flame licking just close enough to burn.
And she hated most of all that…
She didn’t hate it.
The sun hung low, casting golden ribbons across the lagoon. The water shimmered like glass, warm and still. The sound of the waterfall had become background music to their laughter, their bickering, their shared silence.
They floated near the edge now, side by side.
Y/N laid back on the surface, letting her arms stretch wide, hair fanned out in the water like seafoam.
Haechan was close enough to touch. Close enough to feel. But for once, he was quiet.
“You never told me,” Y/N said softly, eyes on the sky. “How you reacted. When you found out.”
He blinked. “Found out what?”
“About the marriage. The arrangement.”
A pause.
Then: “Oh. That.”
His voice was too casual, too cool.
She turned her head to look at him.
He sighed. “Honestly? I was annoyed. Felt like I was being traded. Like I didn’t get a say in something that would affect the rest of my life.”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“Felt like a trap,” he added with a crooked smile. “And I hate traps.”
She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“What about you?” he asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
Y/N took a moment.
“I was scared.”
The words left her lips like a confession.
“I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t know what kind of man you’d be. I just kept thinking—what if he’s cruel? What if he’s angry all the time? What if he tries to break me?”
Haechan’s smile vanished.
Gone in an instant.
He straightened slightly, suddenly all sharp breath and stillness, his brows furrowing.
He hadn’t thought of that.
He hadn't thought of her fear.
How terrifying it must’ve been, being promised to a stranger—especially one from a nation known for their fire. Their temper. Their history.
She hadn’t just been afraid of the marriage.
She’d been afraid of him.
And yet here she was. Laughing with him. Swimming beside him. Still giving him that cold, smart mouth—but with softness behind it now.
He reached out.
Took her hand beneath the water.
“I’d never hurt you,” he said quietly. “And I’d never force you into anything.”
Y/N’s eyes searched his face. He was all boyish beauty still—but for once, the smirk was gone. His jaw was tight, his gaze serious. Protective.
Her heart cracked a little.
“I know,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
The moment held between them like a delicate ripple.
Then he let go.
“I’m gonna shower,” he said quickly, pulling away.
Y/N watched as he climbed out of the water, water trailing down his back, the sun outlining every sculpted line of his body.
But her chest felt hollow.
The second he was gone, the pool felt colder. Quieter. Like the heat had been drained from the air entirely.
She sank lower into the water, pulling her knees to her chest.
And whispered to herself:
“…I miss your warmth.”
--------------
The morning sun painted soft golden lines across the veranda, the air warm and scented with sea breeze and tropical fruit. Their plates were nearly empty — mango slices, toasted honey bread, and cups of steaming jasmine tea sitting untouched now as the silence between them settled into something unusually comfortable.
Y/N sipped her tea, stealing glances at Haechan as he tilted back in his chair, shirt loose, collar open, hair still slightly damp from his morning shower. He looked impossibly smug for someone doing absolutely nothing.
“You’re too quiet,” he muttered without looking at her. “What are you plotting?”
“Nothing,” she said, voice soft but firm.
“Liar.”
“Arrogant.”
He smirked. “Flirt.”
Before she could respond, her foot caught on the leg of the chair as she stood, her body tilting awkwardly to the side. She gasped—
—and landed right into him.
Strong arms closed around her waist instantly, catching her like it was nothing.
Time froze.
Their faces were close. Too close.
Y/N blinked up at him, chest pressed to his, the heat of his skin radiating around her like he was the sun. Her breath caught. Her fingers were curled on his shoulders, gripping instinctively.
And Gods, he was warm.
Not just physically — elementally. It buzzed under his skin. Alive. Like standing in front of a campfire with no escape.
He looked at her, amused.
“Well,” he said quietly. “If you wanted to throw yourself at me, Princess, you could’ve just said so.”
Y/N’s face flushed. She yanked her hands back and stepped away, nearly tripping again in the process. “It was an accident.”
“Sure.” He leaned back against the table, arms folded lazily. “But if you ever do want to touch me, all you have to do is ask.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“I do. Every night.”
She picked up her teacup just to have something to throw at his head. He dodged easily, laughing.
The rest of breakfast dissolved into their usual chaos — him teasing, her snapping back with sharp, witty insults. But under it all, Haechan could barely hide his grin.
He loved this.
Loved the way she didn’t just tolerate him — she fought him. Matched him word for word, glare for glare, and looked so damn pretty doing it.
He leaned in, elbows on the table, chin resting in his palm as she pretended to read the itinerary the attendants had left for them.
“Tell me again,” he said casually, “how you think I’m insufferable.”
She didn’t look up. “You’re egotistical. Loud. You smirk too much. You flirt with everything. You have a god complex.”
His grin stretched wider. “You forgot devastatingly handsome.”
“I was getting there.”
“Mm,” he hummed, watching her lips. “You think I’m hot, don’t you?”
Y/N finally looked up. “I think the heat from your ego is melting this entire island.”
He barked a laugh, the sound warm and happy and annoyingly attractive.
And deep down, Y/N knew: she didn’t hate this.
She didn’t hate him.
Not even a little.
In fact… she was starting to enjoy this game.
Even if it left her thighs pressed together under the table and her thoughts drifting to the way his hands had felt on her waist.
---------------------
They hadn’t spoken much at the beginning. Just exchanged a few awkward nods before the instructor gestured for them to step onto the circular wooden floor, dimly lit by rows of candles in red and blue glass.
“Today,” the instructor smiled, “you’ll learn the Fire-Water Unity Dance. It’s a tradition meant to express harmony through contrast—strength through surrender, resistance through flow.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “So... a fight?”
Haechan grinned. “More like foreplay.”
She elbowed him, but he only laughed, not even pretending to apologize.
Then the music began—deep drums for the fire, slow strings for the water. The instructor moved around them, guiding their bodies into position. Haechan’s hand found her waist first—warm and firm. She braced herself for the heat, but it still startled her—the way his touch burned even through layers of fabric.
His other hand took hers, fingers sliding into place like he’d done this a hundred times. She glanced up to see him watching her, not the instructor.
“You’re warm,” she whispered.
He smirked. “You’re cold. Guess we fit.”
The movements started slow. A step forward, a sweep to the side. Haechan’s palm slid from her waist to the small of her back, guiding her, pulling her into him with each breath. Y/N tried to focus on the rhythm, the meaning behind the steps, but her mind kept scattering—burning alive from the nearness of his body, from the teasing brush of his thigh against hers as they spun.
The dance wasn’t chaste. It wasn’t meant to be.
It was intimate.
Every step placed them chest to chest, then spun them apart, then back again. Her skirt flared, and Haechan caught it mid-air, eyes dropping to the skin of her thigh before he returned to form. His smirk deepened when she stumbled.
“Nervous?” he murmured.
“You wish.”
His hand slid up her back again, fingers spreading at the base of her neck. “Maybe I do.”
The instructor circled them again, correcting their posture. “Closer,” she told Y/N, gently nudging her toward Haechan. “Let him feel your balance.”
Y/N pressed closer. Her chest brushed his, and Haechan bit back a sound, one of his hands flexing on her waist like he was barely holding it together.
Her heart pounded. It wasn’t the music or the movement—it was him, all of him, his heat, his breath, his words. His hand slid lower when they turned again, thumb brushing the top of her backside, his lips next to her ear.
“You’re sweating,” he said.
“So are you.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “But I like the way you smell.”
Y/N made the mistake of glancing up at him. His eyes burned. She felt her legs falter just a bit—he caught her, smirking again.
“I got you,” he said, cocky and sure, spinning her back into his arms.
By the time the music faded, her entire body felt like it was trembling. Her cheeks were flushed, her pulse wild. The instructor gave them a pleased nod and excused herself to grab water.
As soon as the door closed behind her, silence settled over them like heavy smoke.
They stood there, breathless.
Y/N’s hands were still against his chest.
Haechan was staring.
And then—“Don’t you wanna kiss me?”
She blinked, lips parting. “Don’t you wannna kiss me?” She repeated.
His mouth twitched. But this time it wasn’t a tease. “Actually… yeah. I do.”
He took a step closer, giving her time to stop him.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
His hand cupped her jaw gently, thumb brushing her cheek as he leaned in. His lips met hers softly at first—so soft it made her breath hitch. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t demanding. It was warm, languid, testing. But then she kissed him back—hungrily, breathlessly—and he groaned into her mouth.
The hand on her waist pulled her flush against him. Her hands slid into his hair. His tongue teased the seam of her lips, and when she let him in, he kissed her like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.
Her fingers tightened in his hair as he sucked on her lower lip, then tilted his head to deepen it, pressing his thigh between hers.
Y/N moaned softly, the sound lost into his mouth.
That’s when—
The door creaked.
They jerked apart, faces flushed, lips swollen.
The instructor froze in the doorway, clearly registering the scene, but politely looking away.
Y/N was mortified, gasping as she stumbled back.
The instructor cleared her throat. “We’ll... pick up again tomorrow.”
As she walked past, Y/N covered her face.
But from behind her, Haechan whispered, smug and low, “Next time, princess... I’m not stopping.”
The moon hung low and silver, casting a gentle glow across the private royal bungalow nestled in the jungle. The sea breeze slipped through the open windows, rustling the white curtains like ghostly dancers. Inside, all was still—except for Haechan.
He sat in the woven rattan chair by the open balcony doors, cradling a crystal glass of sweet, dark Fire Nation whiskey, gaze locked on the sleeping figure in their bed.
Y/N lay on her side, face soft and peaceful in the lamplight, hair fanned across the silk pillowcase. One hand was curled under her cheek, the other rested gently over her chest, the glint of her wedding band catching the light with every slow breath. Haechan could make out the delicate blue and silver bracelet her mother had given her, still wrapped around her wrist.
She looked… untouched. Serene. Sacred.
And it was killing him.
He ran a hand down his face, then through his hair, the whiskey burning down his throat like it was trying to match the heat pulsing inside him. He was going insane. He could still taste her from the kiss they'd stolen, feel the pressure of her body against his during the dance. Her curves. Her breathy laugh. Her stubbornness. Her soft moan. The pillow wall was still up between them at night, but every morning he woke up with his hips pressed against it, her body just inches away.
Now, watching her in the moonlight, purity written across every line of her body, his chest twisted in something that felt nothing like lust.
He might be falling for his wife.
-------------
The next morning came far too quickly.
Y/N stood at the docks dressed in her traditional Water Tribe blue—layers of hand-stitched silk swirling around her like waves, hair intricately braided by her mother’s hands. Her father kissed her forehead; her youngest sibling clung to her waist, trying not to cry. The ocean sparkled behind them like a painting, the same one she grew up with, the same one she was leaving behind.
“I’ll write you every week,” she promised, her voice shaking, pulling her mother in for one last tight hug. “And I’ll visit whenever they allow it.”
Her mother sniffled and nodded. “Just remember who you are. Your heart belongs to the sea, but now you’ll have fire beside it too.”
Y/N turned to Haechan, who had given her space but hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He knew what she was giving up. Her culture, her home, the safety of being surrounded by people who understood her without words. And she was coming with him, to a kingdom where the air smelled of smoke and stone and the palace halls were always too hot.
As she stepped onto the ship beside him, Haechan slipped his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze.
“I know it’s not fair,” he said quietly. “But I promise to make it feel like home.”
The Fire Nation palace was majestic—soaring ceilings, carved stone hallways, crimson tapestries that caught the firelight. But it wasn’t home.
Not for her.
At dinner, she sat stiffly, dressed in unfamiliar fabrics, her appetite lost to nerves. The servants presented spicy grilled meats, fire-roasted vegetables, dishes sizzling with heat and oil. Haechan noticed her hesitance immediately.
He leaned over and whispered, “I had them make something else for you.”
Moments later, a new tray was carried in: slow-simmered seal stew, moon peach tarts, iced berry nectar—all from the Northern Water Tribe.
Y/N blinked at the spread, lips parting in shock. “You remembered?”
He nodded, a little sheepish. “I paid attention during that history lesson on our date. And maybe... asked your mom and the cook for a few recipes before we left.”
Her eyes welled up for a moment, but she blinked quickly and leaned in to kiss his cheek—quick, soft, just a brush of lips on skin.
“Thank you.”
And just like that, Haechan—crowned prince of the Fire Nation, soldier, firebender—was reduced to a man grinning like an idiot, heat blooming across his face hotter than any flame he’d ever bent.
He reached for more stew just to hide it, but he couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the night.
Their new bedroom in the Fire Nation palace was much smaller than the luxurious honeymoon suite. The bed—although still elegant—was noticeably tighter, forcing proximity neither of them had truly confronted yet. Haechan paused in the doorway, arms crossed as he surveyed the space. “If it’s too cramped for you,” he offered, his voice casual, “I can take the guest chamber. I don't mind.”
Y/N turned to him with a small shake of her head, her voice gentle but sure. “No… We’re married. We have to get used to it.”
That word—married—still sent a strange thrill down his spine. A mixture of disbelief, amusement, and something warmer, more dangerous. Especially when she said it like that, so soft and sure of him.
They both changed in the small adjoining room, backs turned out of respect—or maybe tension. Haechan padded out first, shirtless as always, his sun-kissed skin glowing under the firelight. Y/N followed a moment later, dressed in a silk two-piece set: soft blue shorts that clung to her thighs and a matching top with delicate straps. Haechan glanced over just once, then forced his eyes away, swallowing hard as he slid beneath the covers on his side.
The palace’s rooms were cooled by design, to give Fire Nation dwellers relief from their natural heat. But to Y/N, who’d grown up falling asleep beside crackling blizzards and glacial winds, the room felt too cold—unnatural, almost eerie. The fire in the corner was out, only a few embers glowing faintly. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she lay down.
They didn’t say much. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, expectant. Like the air between them had shifted since that kiss during the dance.
Now, inches apart, both of them lay facing opposite directions. But somewhere in the middle of the night, Y/N stirred.
The cold crept into her bones and, half-asleep, her body searched for warmth. Without thinking, she rolled over and instinctively burrowed into the closest heat source.
Haechan.
He felt it immediately—soft limbs tangling with his, her silk-covered thighs brushing against his bare skin, her chest pressed against his arm, breath hitting the crook of his neck. His whole body went rigid.
Eyes flying open in the darkness, he stared at the ceiling, heartbeat hammering. She was—she was all over him. One leg had slipped between his, her hand resting unconsciously on his abdomen, fingers brushing the faint line of hair below his navel. She didn’t know what she was doing. She couldn’t.
Shit.
He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, but her body responded instinctively—curling tighter against him, nose nudging his throat. And he felt it—his body’s response. His cock, hard and aching now, trapped under the sheets. All because of the way she clung to him in her sleep, unaware and innocent and so damn soft. Dangerous.
He hissed under his breath and clenched his jaw, frozen.
Was she dreaming of something else? Or was it really just the cold?
Either way, he couldn’t take advantage. He wouldn’t.
After a moment of cursing himself silently, he exhaled slowly and reached for a thicker blanket at the foot of the bed. Gently, he tugged it over her body, covering her fully and tucking the edges around her, like some kind of ridiculous protector. Like he could shield her from him.
Once she was cocooned in warmth and no longer clinging, he carefully peeled himself away from her and sat at the edge of the bed, head in his hands.
He needed a shower. A cold one. Immediately.
As he slipped out quietly, trying not to wake her, he glanced back once. Her face was peaceful, lips parted, wedding ring catching the faint light.
Haechan ran a hand through his hair and whispered to himself, “What the hell are you doing, man?”
Because he knew the answer was dangerous.
He might just be falling for her. For real.
------------------
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Fire Prince Jaehyun x Water Princess Reader (smut) - Repost
They're supposed to be sworn enemies, polar opposites, their countries have a shared history of violence, loss and pain. but life always has a way of making the most unexpected people form a bond...
WC: 10k (pt 1), loss of virginity, dirty talk, tension build up, purity ring, unprotected sex (in pt 2)
Repost in honour of NATLA S2 that just came out, this story is older so pls be kind <333 (:
-----------------
Prince Jaehyun of the Fire Nation descends from his private jet in dark crimson wool, gold embroidery tracing the edge of his coat like flames licking upward. His skin is warm under the late morning sun, even here where the cold bites. Golden eyes, molten and intense, scan the mountain campus without a hint of awe—he's used to luxury, but not rules. Not tradition he didn’t write.
He doesn't smile. Not because he’s unfriendly, but because he knows the effect his silence has. Cameras click. A student aide fumbles a clipboard when he passes, cheeks redder than the alpine breeze could cause.
He’s the walking embodiment of charisma and danger:
Don’t look too long, you’ll burn.
He’s not here to make friends. He’s here to graduate, play the game, then return home to command fire and steel.
But for now, he enters his assigned private suite at the top of the East Tower, tossing his bag onto a leather chair without care. His phone buzzes—another fan edit of him trending, a picture of him shirtless at a beach last summer.
He smirks.
They love him. Even if they don’t know him.
-------------------
Y/N
Y/N, daughter of the Northern Water Tribe’s High Chief, arrives quietly. Her travel coat is a pearly, icy blue that blends with the snowy backdrop, fur lining soft around her cheeks. Her beauty is subtle, soft but sharp when you look too long. Clear skin, frost-kissed lips, and eyes like stormy seas—still, until they’re not.
She doesn’t need a grand entrance. Her people believe in grace, not spectacle.
She’s escorted by two royal guards but walks slightly ahead of them, posture perfect, spine straight like she’s been balancing a crown since birth. Her phone dings in her pocket—texts from her cousins, memes from her best friend back home, an article someone sent:
“Prince of Fire Arrives—Again Shirtless?”
She rolls her eyes. She’s heard of Jaehyun. Of course she has. Everyone has.
Arrogant. Spoiled. The fire prince who thinks he can charm anything with a heartbeat.
She walks through the grand arches of the West Tower, where the water tribes and diplomatic majors reside, a wall of ancient glacier stone shimmering faintly under LED lights. Her suite is smaller, decorated with handwoven tapestries from home and soft, flowing fabrics. Her room is cold by choice—she sleeps best in icy air.
She lays her palms on a bowl of still water on her nightstand. A family tradition. Her mother used to say that water remembers. She closes her eyes and breathes.
She doesn’t want to hate him. But she will if she has to.
--------------
The school is divided into towers by regions and affinities. The Fire Nation and Water Tribes have never shared classes—until this year.
A new curriculum, a political strategy by the heads of state, hoping the next generation will forget old scars. Hoping proximity will ease the generational distrust.
They’re all supposed to play nice now.
But traditions don’t melt that easily.
And when fire meets water… there’s always steam.
------------
It was quiet in the mountains before the sun rose—quiet in a way that made even royalty feel small. Snow clung to the trees like lace, and the stone corridors of the academy were still, bathed in the faint blue light of early dawn.
Most students were still asleep.
But not them.
Y/N walked silently through the empty hall outside her tower. Her fur-lined robe fluttered slightly around her ankles, and the tiny aquamarine jewels woven into her braids glinted faintly beneath the pale light. She carried herself like someone used to walking ahead of guards, someone who never had to introduce herself because her bloodline spoke first.
But here, no one knew what she looked like.
Her tribe had protected her identity with sacred fervor. No press. No public appearances. Not a single official photo released since she was a child. It was tradition. She was the only daughter of the Northern Water Tribe’s High Chief—the final heir. Their most precious gem.
Only now, finally of age, had she been allowed to make a social media account, which she hadn’t even posted on yet.
“Let them meet me on my terms,” she had told her advisors.
She crossed the wide hallway of the East Wing—the “neutral” hall between towers—drawn to the massive window overlooking the southern peak. She sat in front of it, legs crossed, back straight, hands on her knees. Her breath fogged lightly in the air. The early cold didn’t bother her.
She began to meditate, letting her thoughts settle like snow on still water.
Until—
THUD.
Someone turned the corner too fast.
And ran straight into her.
“Shit—sorry,” came a low, warm voice.
Large hands gripped her arms gently, helping her upright. She gasped at the heat that surged through her skin at the contact—it was like grabbing metal left out in the sun.
Her eyes flew open.
Him.
Golden eyes. Shirtless. Hair still damp from the sink or maybe sweat from a pre-run stretch. He wore only fire-red joggers slung low on his hips and a sharp look of confusion as he stared at her.
Prince Jaehyun.
She’d seen him in a hundred photos. The Fire Nation’s golden boy. All cocky smirks and smolder. Girls across the nations posted thirst edits of him like it was a sport. He was strong, fast, reckless—hot in every definition of the word.
And now he was holding her.
Jaehyun blinked once, slow. His gaze traveled down the fine, icy blue detail of her robe, the royal crest pinned on her shoulder, the way the morning light hit her glass-like jewels and cast ripples across the floor.
Oh. This had to be her.
The Princess of the Water Tribe.
He smirked, letting go of her a little too fast.
“Well,” he said, stepping back, “you should really watch where you’re going.”
Her brows shot up, breath fogging slightly as her expression shifted from surprised to amused—and irritated.
“Me?” she said coolly, rising to full height. “You turned the corner like you were on fire.”
His jaw ticked. “Maybe don’t sit in the middle of the hall like it’s your private glacier.”
They locked eyes. Silence. Snow outside the window, the sun just beginning to rise.
Tension snapped between them like dry kindling.
Without another word, Y/N turned on her heel and walked away, robe trailing behind her like ice across marble.
Jaehyun stared after her for a second longer than he should have.
What the hell was that?
Who walks around looking like that at sunrise? ...And why the fuck was her voice kind of hot?
Y/N stepped into the common lounge of the Water Tower for the orientation breakfast. It was warm with the sound of chatter and fire-crackling hearths, and students milled about in their tribe’s traditional attire.
They rushed over, both waterbenders, daughters of minor dignitaries—warm, excited, and equally curious.
“Oh my god, no one told us you were this gorgeous,” Valkyrie breathed, wide-eyed. “You don’t even have a profile photo yet!”
“Yeah,” Amara grinned. “They kept you locked away like an ice sculpture. For what?! You look like a goddess.”
Y/N laughed softly, flustered but pleased. “My father’s rules. And the council. I wasn’t even allowed to take selfies until last week.”
The girls swooned dramatically.
“We’re obsessed already,” Amara declared.
“Come sit with us,” Valkyrie insisted, pulling her toward their table. “You have to tell us everything. What was it like growing up in the palace? Wait—have you met the Fire Prince yet?”
Y/N froze for a half-second, then tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with a cool, unreadable smile.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
-------------
Jaehyun sat in the high-ceilinged breakfast hall, a carved wooden spoon twirling idly in his hand as Johnny and Taeyong chatted beside him over hot eggs and spiced rice.
But he wasn’t listening.
His mind was stuck on her.
The girl from this morning. The Water Tribe princess. Y/N.
The sharpness in her eyes. The softness in her voice. The way she’d looked at him like she saw him—not the prince, not the firebender, just... him. And didn’t care.
“Yo,” Johnny nudged him, smirking as he caught Jaehyun zoning out again. “You good?”
“You haven’t looked at your phone in like… ten minutes,” Taeyong teased. “That’s got to be some kind of Fire Nation emergency.”
Jaehyun rolled his eyes and stabbed a piece of sausage. “I’m fine.”
Johnny leaned forward, grin widening. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the rumored Water Princess finally showing her face today, would it?”
Jaehyun didn't answer.
But his silence said enough.
---------------
All first-years were herded out of the castle-like university and toward the trail winding up into the nearby mountains—a “team-building hike,” they called it.
Y/N walked with Amara and Valkyrie, wrapped in a lighter travel cloak with her braids tucked into a soft knit beanie. The air was bright and thin, sunlight bouncing off every snowy surface. Despite being used to cold, she wasn’t used to this—the altitude, the glare, the way the sun felt like it was trying to steal her breath and her strength.
The water inside her felt sluggish, sun-warmed and heavy.
Her body ached in a way it never did under the moon.
About halfway up the slope, her pace began to slow. Her breath hitched. Her vision blurred for half a second.
“Y/N?” Valkyrie turned. “You okay?”
She nodded weakly, managing a smile. “Yeah. Just... too much sun. You two go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”
Amara frowned but didn’t argue. “Alright. Just shout if you need us.”
The others moved on, disappearing slowly up the slope with the rest of the first-years, laughter and boots crunching in the distance.
Y/N sat down on a snow-covered boulder, tugging her coat tighter and closing her eyes. She missed the stillness of the moon already. Her body craved darkness, reflection, water.
She felt so far from it all.
And then—
“Hey.” A gentle voice. Calm, steady.
She opened her eyes to find a tall boy crouching in front of her, wrapped in a charcoal hiking jacket with a Fire Nation patch stitched on the sleeve. Soft brown eyes. Faint scars on his knuckles.
“Taeyong?” she said, surprised. “Aren’t you a group leader? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”
“I am,” he nodded with a soft smile. “But I’m also responsible for making sure everyone’s safe. You didn’t look okay.”
Y/N blinked at him, lips parting in disbelief.
“You... don’t hate me?” she asked before she could stop herself.
His smile faded just slightly, replaced by something more serious.
“I don’t hate people just because history says I should.” He paused. “I know what they say about our nations. But you’re not your government, and I’m not mine.”
She stared at him for a long second, stunned by how… kind he was. No hidden smirk. No sarcasm. Just warmth—like fire without burn.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He stood and offered his hand. “Come on. I’ll walk with you the rest of the way.”
She hesitated, then placed her hand in his. His warmth was more bearable than Jaehyun’s—it didn’t sting. It just felt… grounding.
They started walking again, slowly, together.
Further up the slope, Johnny and Jaehyun paused at a lookout post under a cluster of frost-covered pines.
Johnny squinted down the trail. “That’s Taeyong, right?”
Jaehyun followed his gaze.
His eyes narrowed when they landed on her.
Y/N. Moving slowly, cheeks flushed with effort. And Taeyong beside her, guiding her with gentle words and hands that hovered close but never touched.
His jaw tightened.
“She doesn’t look well,” Johnny said, tilting his head. “Think she’s sick?”
“It’s the sun,” Jaehyun muttered, sharper than he intended. “Water tribes draw strength from the moon. She’s probably not used to this much direct exposure.”
Johnny raised a brow. “Since when are you an expert on her biology?”
Jaehyun didn’t answer.
His fists were already clenched.
Not from anger. Just... heat.
And he didn’t like that either.
-----------------
The restaurant was tucked into the edge of a mountainside town—a Michelin-starred, glass-walled jewel perched above the icy trees. Inside, golden chandeliers hung from carved cedar beams, casting a warm glow over polished silverware and ivory table linens. The waitstaff wore silk gloves. The wine list had its own zip code.
Students filed in, dressed in formal attire required for the night: tailored coats, evening dresses, polished boots. It was a diplomatic tradition—the first formal dinner of the year, meant to encourage “intercultural communication.”
The universe, however, had different plans.
Y/N slid into her assigned seat at the long banquet table, elegant in a midnight-blue gown embroidered with silver thread. Her braids were gathered to one side, aquamarine jewels glittering softly in the candlelight. She smoothed her napkin onto her lap—and froze.
Across from her, none other than Jaehyun dropped into his seat, manspreading slightly in his sleek black formal suit like the chair owed him rent.
Of course.
His hair was pushed back, jaw sharp, golden eyes scanning the room until they landed squarely on her.
He smirked.
“Let me guess,” he said, reaching for his water. “You’re seated alphabetically. I pity the poor soul with a last name starting with Z.”
Y/N arched an eyebrow. “If I had known the Fire Nation trained in alphabet jokes, I’d have lowered my expectations even further.”
He chuckled, low and smooth. “Relax, princess. I’m just making conversation. Or are you afraid I’ll melt your composure with my oversized ego?”
“I’m afraid it might eclipse the moon,” she replied coolly, sipping her now-frosted water.
He glanced at her glass, then down at his own plate. With an easy breath, he exhaled over his fried rice, warming it just enough to let off steam—literally.
She narrowed her eyes.
“You know, some of us use utensils.”
“And some of us are just efficient.”
Around them, the room buzzed with soft conversation, the clink of glasses, and flirtatious laughter. A pair of girls at the far end of the table kept glancing at Jaehyun, giggling behind their menus. He didn’t acknowledge them, but the slight raise of his chin told Y/N he’d noticed.
Across the room, she didn’t miss the way a few first-year boys were eyeing her like they were planning how to flirt with royalty without dying of embarrassment.
Jaehyun followed her gaze, then raised a brow. “You’ve got fans already.”
“I don’t blame them,” she said sweetly. “They haven’t heard me speak yet.”
His smirk twitched. “Your modesty is overwhelming.”
“Coming from someone who warms rice with his mouth, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
They glared, the corners of their lips betraying the fight to stay serious. If either of them looked too closely, they'd see it wasn't quite hate. It was friction. Hot and sharp and electric.
-------------
After dinner, the students gathered outside, the snow crunching beneath their polished shoes as they waited for the sleek black cars that would ferry them back to the university. Breath turned to clouds in the cold night air.
Jaehyun stood off to the side with Johnny and Taeyong, hands in his coat pockets, eyes trained on nothing in particular.
Until—
He saw her.
Y/N stood apart from the crowd, just a few paces away, her back turned, head tilted to the sky. Her eyes were closed, arms relaxed at her sides as she faced the full moon hanging heavy and glowing above them. The icy blue of her dress shimmered faintly under the moonlight. She looked... different like this.
Calm. Still. Powerful.
The air around her almost pulsed—gentle, cool, reverent. As if the night itself bowed for her.
Jaehyun’s breath caught.
He knew what this was. He'd read about the moon’s connection to water tribe bending in one of his statecraft briefings. But seeing it? Feeling it?
It was intimate. Sacred.
And she was beautiful.
Moonlit skin, lashes fluttering softly, lips parted just slightly as if she were absorbing strength straight from the sky.
He forced himself to look away. Clenched his jaw.
Johnny glanced at him. “You okay?”
Jaehyun didn’t answer.
Because he wasn’t.
He felt like he’d intruded on something private, something not meant for anyone else. And worse… He couldn’t stop wanting to watch.
-------------
The cars purred softly as they dropped students off one by one back at the academy’s stone steps. The wind was gentler now, the moon still heavy overhead.
Jaehyun climbed the stairs behind a small group of students, jacket slung over one shoulder, his golden gaze flicking lazily forward—until he caught sight of her again.
Y/N.
She was a few steps ahead, walking carefully, her long embroidered skirt and cloak catching on the wind. The icy-blue fabric looked heavy with the weight of tradition, trailing just slightly as she struggled to keep her footing on the slick stone steps.
A hand extended from the crowd.
Minho—broad-shouldered, soft-spoken, Earth Kingdom native with a kind smile—offered it to her shyly.
“You okay?” he asked, voice gentle.
Y/N blinked, then smiled warmly. “Thank you,” she said, taking his hand with delicate fingers. “That’s very kind of you.”
Minho flushed a little as he helped her up the last step, his ears turning red under the lamplight.
Behind them, Jaehyun scoffed quietly.
Johnny caught it and leaned over, smirking. “Jealous?”
“He looked like he was gonna propose just from touching her hand,” Jaehyun muttered.
Johnny laughed. “Careful. That fire under your collar’s showing.”
Jaehyun didn’t answer, just shoved his hands in his pockets and walked a little faster.
Scene Two: Early Morning, Part II
The second day of orientation began with the same silence as the first.
And again, before the sun crested the peaks, Y/N was already in the hall outside her tower, meditating.
This time, though, she wasn’t quite as wrapped in tradition.
She wore loose training pants in icy grey and a sleeveless, high-neck top in soft blue. Her arms were bare, toned and elegant, her back visible where the fabric dipped slightly with her posture. Her skin practically shimmered in the blue morning light, moon-kissed even before the stars faded.
Eyes closed. Breathing even. Calm.
But she could feel it.
Heat. Buzzing, magnetic, stubbornly male heat.
She didn’t open her eyes.
“Take a picture,” she murmured, voice slow and cool. “It’ll last longer.”
Jaehyun stood a few paces away, breathing a little harder than before. His morning jog had screeched to a halt the moment he turned the corner and saw her.
“Didn’t realize this was a public exhibit,” he said, trying to force a smirk onto his face, voice thicker than usual.
“It’s not,” she replied, still not looking at him. “But unfortunately, I don’t control the wildlife.”
He snorted, shook his head, and tore his eyes away. “You’re insufferable.”
“Glad you’re keeping up.”
And with that, Jaehyun jogged off—faster, harder, more focused. As if he could outrun the image of her in that outfit, bathed in blue light like a goddess with her own gravity.
He couldn’t.
Later that morning, Jaehyun sat at a sleek, glass-top café table in the university’s sky lounge with Celina—a girl he’d met during orientation. Blonde, flirty, glitter on her cheekbones and three designer bags on her chair.
“So what was it like growing up in a fire palace?” she asked, leaning forward. “Did they teach you sword fighting? Or like, diplomacy or whatever?”
Jaehyun gave a practiced smile. “Both.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, tilting her head. “And your eyes—do all Fire Princes have gold eyes or is that just a you thing?”
He blinked. “It’s... just a me thing.”
She giggled like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
He looked down at his espresso, fingers tapping against the cup. She hadn’t asked him a single real question. Nothing about his thoughts, his interests, his beliefs. Just status, background, power.
He suddenly missed the sharp edge in Y/N’s voice. Missed being challenged.
He set his cup down and gave Celina a polite nod.
“Thanks for meeting me,” he said.
She blinked, surprised. “Oh! Yeah—of course. Are we—?”
“I’m not interested,” he said bluntly. Not cruel, just honest.
She blinked again. “Oh. Uh... okay.”
He stood, nodded once, and walked out—ignoring the flashes of confusion and rejection behind him. He didn’t have time for empty flattery.
Especially not when there was someone else who wasn’t impressed with him—and for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
-----------
The third day of orientation brought a surprise—a student outing to one of the most exclusive alpine horse tracks in Europe. The snowy valley beneath the university was carved with crystal-clear lanes, the horses bred from royal stables across the globe. The crowd was dotted with diplomats, nobles, and faculty, sipping hot drinks from porcelain cups while wearing coats worth small fortunes.
The students filled the private terrace seating, bundled in school-issue winter cloaks with their house emblems stitched over their hearts.
Jaehyun arrived fashionably late, sipping black coffee, his hair tucked into a wool beanie that couldn’t hide the sharpness of his jawline or the smug set of his shoulders. Girls shifted when he walked past. Some fixed their scarves. One actually gasped.
He didn’t look for her. He wasn’t looking for her.
But he found her anyway.
Y/N was seated already in the front row of the terrace, cheeks dusted pink from the cold, lips wrapped around a warm flask of tea. Her cloak was pale silver today, lined with soft navy fur that made her look even more regal. She laughed at something Amara said beside her, then looked toward the track, sharp eyes scanning the horses.
Jaehyun exhaled slowly, like her mere existence was smoke in his lungs.
He took the empty seat next to her, dropping down without a word.
She turned her head, looked at him once, and returned her gaze to the field.
“Can’t seem to get rid of you,” she murmured.
“Tell me about it,” he replied.
---------------
The starting bells rang.
The horses lined up at the gate, steaming breath rising into the sky.
Students leaned forward eagerly, many of them whispering to one another.
“Leftmost one’s Firebred,” Johnny noted from behind them. “Bred in Jaehyun’s territory. Fastest on record.”
“He’s not winning,” Y/N said with cool confidence.
Jaehyun tilted his head. “You’re betting against my horse?”
“I’m betting against your arrogance,” she said, eyes still on the track.
Jaehyun smirked. “What happens if you’re wrong?”
“I won’t be.”
“But if you were?”
She finally turned her head to meet his eyes.
“If I lose,” she said calmly, “I’ll owe you a favor.”
Jaehyun raised a brow, intrigued. “And if I lose?”
“I’ll collect a favor. When I choose.”
His heart gave an involuntary thump. Not just from the words, but from the way she said them—controlled, steady, almost teasing. Like she knew she’d win.
“Deal,” he said, offering his gloved hand.
She placed hers in his. The cold of her fingers clashed with the heat of his palm. The handshake lasted one second too long.
Then—
The gates opened.
The horses tore across the snow-packed field, thunderous and wild.
Students shouted, cheered, scrambled for a better view. Jaehyun and Y/N leaned forward instinctively, breath held.
And just as the final stretch loomed...
A white-coated mare from the Northern Water territories surged forward, passing the Firebred in the final ten seconds.
The bell rang. The crowd erupted.
Jaehyun sat back slowly, jaw tightening.
Y/N turned to him with a victorious smile—not smug, just satisfied.
“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to collect,” she said sweetly.
He shook his head, trying to fight a smile. “That’s dangerous, you know.”
“So am I.”
The students filed out of the terrace in buzzing groups, still riding high from the race.
Jaehyun stayed behind a few moments, watching Y/N disappear into the crowd with her friends—laughing, graceful, offering a polite smile to the steward who opened the door for her.
He hated to admit it, but she moved through the world like she’d been born to rule it.
Not like him.
Jaehyun knew he was hot. He knew people liked him—wanted him. He had confidence, charisma, a name that made headlines and a face that broke hearts.
But Y/N? She didn’t try. She just was.
Poised. Natural. Effortless. Kind to everyone—except him.
He’d never met anyone who made him feel simultaneously this annoyed and this off-balance.
She’s the moon, he thought. Untouchable. Cold. But she pulls the tide anyway.
He exhaled hard and stood up.
He was going to need a hell of a lot more wins if he was going to keep up with her.
----------------
The mountain air was brisk as usual—sharp, cold, and biting just enough to remind Jaehyun he was alive.
He jogged through the same corridor as always, hoodie pulled low over his brow, music pumping through his earbuds, pace even and strong. He passed a few students on the way, nodded to a few others, but didn’t stop.
Not until her.
Same spot. Same time. Princess Y/N.
Seated on the mat just off the corridor window again, hands resting on her thighs, eyes closed, lips slightly parted in stillness.
This time, she wore a loose, snowy blue top that slid slightly down her shoulder, revealing the smooth line of her collarbone. Her legs were folded elegantly, the morning light pooling across her skin like it belonged there. And on her hand—resting atop one knee—was a delicate silver ring, carved with the moon cycle.
Jaehyun’s steps faltered. He kept going—barely—but something about that ring...
His eyes narrowed.
By the time he reached the other end of the hall, he was already pulling out his phone, opening a search tab with quick, frantic fingers.
"Northern Water Tribe moon ring symbolism" "Silver purity ring Water Princess" "Tribe virginity ring customs"
And then it hit.
The results came flooding in, exactly what he feared—no, hoped—he’d find.
It was a purity ring.
One only worn by virgins in the Water Tribe—usually those in the royal family, signifying personal vows of restraint, tradition, and spiritual clarity until they chose a partner to share it with.
Jaehyun stared at the screen.
And then...
“Fuck.”
He was half-hard already, pulse slamming in his throat. His jog forgotten. His thoughts suddenly very impure.
He ducked into a shadowed alcove, heart pounding, pressing his back to the wall. One hand still gripping his phone, the other dragging down his face before briefly—desperately—palming himself through his sweats.
Of course she’s untouched. Of course she’s forbidden. Of course she’s driving him insane.
Her calm. Her mouth. Her legs folded so perfectly. That fucking ring.
He cursed again under his breath, fingers tightening.
And then turned abruptly down the hall toward the nearest gym shower room.
The coldest water he could find.
Later that morning, Jaehyun sat stiffly at a private corner table in the library café. Across from him was Saejin, another Fire Nation royal—the daughter of a war advisor, all sleek hair and perfect etiquette.
She smiled, flawless and polished, speaking like she was reading from a court-approved script.
“I just think it’s so refreshing to finally be around our own kind, you know?” she said sweetly, stirring her imported tea. “The Fire Nation doesn’t get enough credit for our superiority.”
Jaehyun blinked once.
Saejin laughed lightly. “Not to be rude. I just mean… we’re trained better. Smarter. I’m sure the others try their best but—well, the Water Tribe is all superstition and snow.”
He leaned back slowly.
Golden eyes unreadable. Sharp.
She kept going, unaware of the crack in her façade. “Don’t you agree?”
“No,” Jaehyun said flatly.
She stopped stirring. “Pardon?”
“I don’t agree,” he repeated. “You’re talking about entire cultures like they’re beneath you. I don’t think I’m better than anyone just because I was born where I was.”
Saejin flushed, eyes wide. “Oh—I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, obviously, I respect diversity—”
Jaehyun stood up. Quiet. Steady. Done.
“Thanks for the tea.”
“Jaehyun—”
But he was already gone, leaving her red-faced and speechless in the middle of the café.
Outside, Jaehyun let the wind hit his face as he leaned against a stone railing, overlooking the snow-covered campus.
I need to stop going on these dates.
They were all the same. Same expectations. Same hollow words. Same attempt to fit into a mold he’d never even shaped himself.
But with her—Y/N—it wasn’t like that.
She didn’t care about who he was. Or what people thought. She challenged him, pushed him, made him feel beneath her in a way that didn’t bruise his ego—it ignited it.
And now that he knew she was untouched, pure, off-limits?
It made it worse.
It made it better.
Jaehyun stared at the horizon, biting his lip, jaw tense.
Maybe dating wasn’t the right move.
Not until he figured out what the hell he was going to do about the girl who didn’t even know the hold she had on him.
Y/N lay in bed, the curtains drawn, the moonlight casting soft shadows across her blanket. Her window was cracked open, letting the chill in—a comfort more than a disturbance.
She should’ve been asleep. She had orientation events early tomorrow.
Instead… she was deep in a stalking spiral.
Her thumb hovered over the search bar again.
"Just one more look,” she muttered under her breath, already typing: @jeongjae.fire
His page loaded quickly.
And of course—it was exactly what she expected. And exactly what irritated her.
Not a single selfie. Just candids—clearly taken by someone else, likely friends, staff, maybe even admirers. Photos from exotic places: volcano ridges, black sand beaches, underground raves lit by lava, firelight warming his smug face.
There were shirtless ones too. Obviously. One at a coastal cliff, him half-drenched from the sea, abs glistening like he knew what he was doing. Another one lounging in a hot spring, steam curling around his collarbones, eyes half-lidded and dangerously flirty.
Y/N scoffed and tossed her phone down, only to pick it back up 2 seconds later.
"Show-off," she muttered, face hot.
She clicked off his profile and opened her camera roll instead.
There was a pause. Then a breath. Then… a decision.
She tapped the little plus sign, selected a recent picture—one snapped just a few days before she left for school.
It was her and her older brother, standing at the palace gate. She had her arm looped through his, both of them laughing, crowns tipped askew from a snowball fight they'd gotten into minutes before. His robes were pristine despite the cold. Her cheeks were pink from the frost and joy.
The caption was simple.
“My favorite person.” ❄️👑
She hit post.
And within minutes, the notifications started pouring in.
💬 “Omg princess reveal?? You’re so pretty!!” 💬 “Royal siblings supremacy 🩵” 💬 “Cold beauty, no wonder the Fire Nation’s threatened” 💬 “Can she freeze me next pls?” 💬 “Protect her at all costs.”
Y/N turned her phone face down and smiled to herself. Just a little. Just once.
Johnny was the first to see it. He nearly choked on his tea.
“Hey, uh,” he said, scrolling, “Y/N just posted.”
Taeyong glanced over. “Really?”
Johnny turned his phone. “Yeah. First one ever.”
The three of them were seated in the common area, students scattered all around, winding down from another long day.
Taeyong smiled. “She looks really happy there.”
Jaehyun didn’t even glance up. He was leaned back on the couch, arms folded, pretending to nap.
Johnny grinned. “You’re not even a little curious, Jae?”
Jaehyun scoffed. “She’s not that interesting.”
“Mhm,” Johnny drawled, unconvinced. “Totally. That’s why your whole jaw just clenched.”
“I don’t care what she posts.” But even he didn’t believe his voice when he said it.
Jaehyun made it exactly three minutes before giving up the act.
Back in his dorm, door locked, lights dimmed, he opened his phone and typed in her handle.
@yn.wtr
Her profile was quiet. Elegant. No posts before today. The display name simply: Princess Y/N of the Northern Water Tribe.
And the photo…
There she was. In full color. Radiant in a way he hadn’t expected. Not posed. Not calculated. Not seductive. Just… warm.
The way she clung to her brother. The genuine laugh. The wind teasing her hair. The grace in her smile. The cold in her cheeks. Her eyes, so deep they looked like they held the whole sea.
And she was calling him her favorite person.
Jaehyun’s thumb hovered over the like button. He didn’t press it.
He stared at the photo longer than he meant to.
This is just research, he told himself. She’s an enemy nation’s heir. I should know more. It’s strategic curiosity.
But his heart thudded louder in his chest.
And the only thing burning inside him… was the truth.
--------------
The sun was high as the students walked the gardens of the Academy, gravel paths winding through meticulously arranged flora from every elemental nation. Minho had chosen the Earth Pavilion as their resting spot, lush with mossy stone benches and shaded by towering trees with twisting trunks.
Y/N sat gracefully beneath the largest tree, sipping warm tea despite the summer heat. Her posture was perfect. Regal, without effort. Around her, a few students chatted quietly, but Minho leaned in, clearly curious.
“Can I ask you something?” he said gently, eyes kind and cautious.
Y/N tilted her head. “Of course.”
“How do you feel… about the Fire Nation?”
The question made a few heads turn. The group hushed just slightly, enough to feel the weight of silence. Even Jaehyun, who had been walking past behind a hedge of flame lilies, froze in place—unseen but very much listening.
Y/N didn’t flinch.
She took a breath, let the breeze comb through her white-blonde hair, and looked Minho straight in the eyes.
“I think history is important,” she said. “It should never be forgotten—what happened between our nations. The war was horrific. My great-grandparents lost their lives in it.”
Minho nodded solemnly. So did several others.
“But,” she continued, “I also think hatred is a poison. One that gets passed down if we’re not careful.”
Jaehyun’s brows lifted, his chest going still.
Y/N pressed her cup into the grass beside her, voice calm but sincere.
“The war ended long before we were born. Generations have passed. And honestly? I’m tired of the narrative. I don't want to spend my life hating people I’ve never met based on things they didn’t do. That helps no one.”
A few students looked at each other, thoughtful. Minho seemed visibly moved.
“I believe both our nations have a lot to offer each other,” Y/N added. “The Fire Nation’s innovation, drive, and strength—combined with the Water Tribe’s patience, healing, and connection to nature… we could be powerful together.”
A beat.
“And I know not everyone feels the same. But… I don’t want to keep telling the same story of hate. I want to write a new one.”
From behind the hedges, Jaehyun stared at the ground.
His hands were tucked into his pockets, his heart caught somewhere in his throat. He wasn’t even sure why he cared so much—why hearing her say it made something twist in his chest like a flame curling inward.
Maybe because… he agreed. Deep down, he always had.
But growing up in the Fire Nation, you weren’t allowed to say that out loud.
He’d learned about the war in school like it was a legacy. He'd heard whispers at home about what the Water Tribe tookfrom them. Was taught that peace was a fragile tolerance, not a genuine future.
But now…
Here was the princess of that tribe. His supposed enemy. Saying everything he’d always secretly hoped.
And it didn’t make him angry.
It made him… ache.
Later that afternoon, during weapons demonstrations in the training field, Y/N was standing alone, tying her hair up into a high knot. The wind swept past her face, pulling stray strands from her braid, sunlight catching the delicate blue shimmer of her robe.
Jaehyun approached from the opposite side, not planning to talk to her—but his eyes flicked up on instinct.
She looked at him briefly. Not with challenge. Not with disdain. Just… acknowledgment.
Jaehyun, usually armed with a smirk, had nothing.
No comeback.
No insult.
He simply gave a nod.
A small one.
And Y/N, after a pause, returned it.
Like maybe… just maybe… they could be on the same side of history someday.
-------------
The halls of the Academy were still half asleep—bathed in pale morning light, with shadows stretched long across the polished floors. Most students wouldn’t rise for another hour. But Jaehyun was already out, muscles aching from his morning lift, hair dripping sweat as he jogged shirtless through the west corridor, earbuds in but music long since paused.
It wasn’t like he meant to look for her.
But when he passed the meditation garden and saw the empty stone bench—her bench—he slowed. Eyes scanning the spot as if her absence disrupted some delicate balance in his morning. A frown tugged at his brow.
Weird.
Y/N was never late. She moved like clockwork.
He kept jogging, rounding a quiet corner—only to stop short when he spotted her. Pacing frantically down the hall in a soft robe, eyes wide and filled with panic, hair loose around her shoulders.
Even breathless and flushed, she looked like royalty.
“Lost something?” he called, trying to sound casual, but his heart kicked a little harder when she startled and looked up at him.
“Oh,” she said. “Yeah—I… I lost my ring.”
Jaehyun blinked. “Your… ring?”
She nodded, clearly distressed. “I took it off for meditation last night, and now I can’t find it. It was a gift. A really important one.”
Jaehyun’s jaw tightened.
There was only one ring he’d seen on her finger lately—thin, silver, engraved delicately. The one he’d Googled two nights ago while still hard and spiraling. A purity ring.
He forced a shrug. “Tough break,” he said, then jogged past her without another word.
But his chest was tight.
And when he turned the next hallway and caught a glint of silver against the floor by a water fountain, he paused.
The ring sat in a pool of light, small and innocent—mocking him with everything it symbolized.
She really meant it, he thought, scooping it up. She’s untouched.
Jaehyun let out a frustrated breath, closing his hand around the metal. He stood there for a long second, debating if he should just leave it on a ledge or pretend he hadn’t seen it at all.
Instead… he turned back.
Y/N was still searching the base of a wall when Jaehyun returned, quiet footsteps padding behind her. She straightened when she noticed him, eyes narrowing.
“You come back to mock me?” she muttered.
“Relax, your highness,” he said dryly. “I found it.”
He extended his hand and dropped the ring into her palm, watching the immediate relief wash over her face.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “Thank you. Seriously, I—thank you.”
Her fingers curled around it like it was sacred.
But as she looked up to thank him again, her breath caught.
Jaehyun was close. Too close. His chest bare and sweat-slicked, his necklace bouncing lightly against his sternum. His hair dark and damp, falling over his forehead. And now that she was really looking—really looking—she realized how tall he was compared to her. How… broad.
Jaehyun didn’t miss the flicker in her eyes.
He tilted his head, lips curving slow. “You okay, princess?”
She blinked fast, like she’d caught herself staring. “Fine,” she said quickly. “Totally fine.”
His smirk widened.
“What’s this ring about anyway?” he asked, glancing pointedly at her fist. “Some kind of magical protection spell?”
Her cheeks flushed. “It’s… none of your business.”
“Oh, come on,” he teased, leaning down slightly—his breath hot against her ear. “You can trust me with a dirty little secret.”
Y/N gasped and shoved at his chest, eyes wide. “You’re disgusting.”
“I’m honest.”
She spun on her heel, walking away fast, flustered. Jaehyun watched her go, grinning like a devil.
Finally. She’s not made of ice after all.
Far down the hall, Y/N slowed, heart pounding. The ring was cold in her hand, but her skin? Her skin was burning.
“What the hell was that?” she whispered, pressing her fingers to her neck where heat lingered, trailing all the way down her spine to—
She didn’t even want to think about it.
Jaehyun couldn’t sleep.
It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t even stress.
It was her.
The image of her flushed face, the way her hand had closed around that damned ring, how she’d looked up at him—small, breathless, affected—kept replaying in his head like a loop designed to torment him.
He hated how much power that moment had over him. How her wide eyes had stayed with him long after she’d stormed off. He told himself it was just curiosity. Biological. Hormonal.
Not attraction.
Definitely not that.
But as he lay awake, the darkness of his dorm room wrapping around him, Jaehyun’s thoughts turned filthy in ways he didn’t know he was capable of when it came to her.
The bratty little princess.
So perfect. So untouchable. So damn righteous.
He wondered how long she could keep that attitude if he had her underneath him, hands pinning hers, his mouth finally shutting her up. Would she keep talking back if he pushed her to the edge again and again? If he found that sweet, untouched spot between her thighs and -
Jaehyun sat up and cursed, scrubbing a hand down his face.
He needed a distraction. Fast.
----------------
The Academy held mandatory cultural nights once a week, where students from all four nations were expected to attend a viewing or lecture that explored different facets of the post-war alliance.
Tonight was a historical dramatization.
A war-era film between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe, one that depicted the gruesome realities of the past—and eventually, the fragile peace born between a prince and a captured healer. It was tense, political, and deeply romantic.
And then... the sex scene happened.
Not crude or explicit, but sensual enough to draw awkward coughs and shuffles from the younger students. On-screen, the prince pressed kisses along the healer’s neck, whispering confessions against her skin, fingers trembling as they undressed one another in soft candlelight.
Jaehyun didn’t react.
At least—not outwardly.
But the moment he turned his head slightly and saw her, everything changed.
Y/N sat a few seats over, eyes fixed downward at her lap. She wasn’t watching. Her jaw was tight, ring spinning nervously on her finger, her cheeks visibly red even in the dim light of the auditorium.
She looked like she wanted to disappear.
And Jaehyun? He could barely look away.
Oh, princess. You’ve never even been touched, have you?
His thoughts took a dark turn—sinking lower, hotter.
He wondered how long it would take for her to start panting under him. If she’d sob from being overwhelmed or try to act composed even when her body betrayed her. What sounds she’d make if he kissed down her stomach and told her to open her legs.
Would she be shy?
Or would the brat in her fight it—make him earn every reaction until he completely ruined her for anyone else?
Jaehyun clenched his fists in his lap, nails digging into his palm.
Get it together. he hissed internally. She’s not yours. She’s not even someone you like.
But it didn’t stop the ache.
Or the jealousy that crept in, uninvited.
Because someday… she would marry. Someone her rank. Someone clean and regal, with boring, practiced hands and a pristine family tree. Someone worthy of royal heirs.
And that man—whoever he was—would get to see her. All of her. Would get to pull off those long layers of silk and find out what was underneath.
Jaehyun swallowed hard and looked back at the screen.
But his mind was no longer on the war.
-----------
The thing about your enemies is that you know them better than your friends.
You study them. Watch them. Understand their patterns. Their tells. Their habits.
Jaehyun knew Y/N.
He knew that she tied her hair differently depending on how much sleep she got. That she added exactly two drops of honey to her tea, even when no one else was looking. That her fingers fidgeted with the sleeve seam of her robe when she was nervous. And that—despite her poise—she hated being the center of attention.
So when lunchtime arrived, and he heard her ask for the fish, Jaehyun didn’t expect her reaction when the kitchen worker gave her an apologetic smile.
“We’re all out of fish, Princess. Only the beef remains.”
She blinked once, then smiled politely. “No worries. Beef is perfectly fine.”
Except it wasn’t.
He watched her carry her tray like it weighed a hundred pounds. Watched her sit down three tables away, smile at Minho who said something, and take her first bite of vegetables with the same grace she did everything else.
But she didn’t touch the meat.
Not once.
Jaehyun stared at his own plate—the flakey grilled fish, seasoned perfectly, steaming gently beside his rice. He wasn’t even that hungry.
He glanced at her again. Her fork glided around the meat like it wasn’t even there, never once piercing the beef.
If he remembered correctly from his cultural studies as a kid, the Water Tribe’s traditional diet didn’t include red meat. Not because they were opposed to it, but because they simply lived off the sea.
Fish. Shellfish. Seaweed. Broth.
His jaw clenched.
Just eat, he told himself, stabbing the fish without looking at it.
But he couldn’t.
His stomach turned. His fork stayed still.
“Are you okay?” Taeyong asked, nudging him gently. “You’ve barely touched your lunch.”
“I’m fine,” Jaehyun muttered.
Taeyong followed his gaze and immediately picked up on it. Without a word, he stood up, walking calmly across the cafeteria.
“Princess Y/N,” he said with a gentle bow. “Would you allow me to trade meals with you?”
Y/N looked up, caught off guard. “What? Oh—no, that’s really not necessary. I don’t mind at all.”
“But I do,” Taeyong said kindly. “You’re not eating. Please. Take the fish.”
She blinked, then softened. “Well… thank you. That’s very kind.”
They switched plates.
She smiled, quietly grateful, and Taeyong returned to the table with the beef.
Jaehyun stabbed a piece of rice and shoved it in his mouth like it had personally offended him.
“You could’ve just offered,” Taeyong said, not unkindly, as he sat down.
“I didn’t notice,” Jaehyun lied.
Taeyong gave him a look like you’re full of shit, but said nothing else.
Across the room, Y/N’s shoulders relaxed slightly. She took a bite of the fish and closed her eyes for a brief second—just enough to let Jaehyun know it mattered. That she really wanted it. That she’d almost endured a whole meal pretending she didn’t.
He looked down at his plate again.
Why did it bother him so much?
Not just that she hadn’t eaten.
But that he’d known—really known—and hadn’t done a damn thing about it.
He told himself it wasn’t about her. That it didn’t mean anything.
But somewhere deep in his chest, a little voice whispered:
You want to be the one who notices her. Before anyone else.
And that scared the hell out of him.
---------
The dorm room was dim, curtains drawn, the only sound the dull ticking of the clock on the wall. Jaehyun sat at the edge of his bed, hands cradling his face, elbows on his knees, breath slow and heavy. His chest ached—not with pain, but with pressure. The kind that built from years of expectations. Years of pretending.
The door creaked open behind him.
“Jae?” Johnny’s voice was quiet, careful. “You okay, man?”
Jaehyun didn’t look up.
A beat passed before Johnny walked in fully, closing the door behind him. He crossed the room and leaned against the wall, arms folded, studying his best friend with a furrowed brow.
“What happened?”
Another long pause.
Then Jaehyun exhaled and dropped his hands, finally raising his head. His eyes were tired.
“…What do you think of the Water Tribe?” he asked.
Johnny tilted his head. “That’s out of nowhere.”
Jaehyun didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile.
“I’m serious.”
Johnny’s face softened. “Honestly? I think the war was a tragedy. But it’s history. We should move forward.”
Jaehyun nodded slowly, staring at the floor. “But I’m not just anyone, Johnny. I’m the prince. Everything I say or feel… means something. It represents something.”
Johnny stepped closer. “Maybe. But it also means you have the power to change things.”
Jaehyun didn’t reply.
Johnny sat beside him on the bed, letting the silence sit for a moment.
“…This isn’t really about the Water Tribe, is it?” Johnny asked gently.
Jaehyun’s jaw tensed. He didn’t answer, but that was answer enough.
Johnny smiled faintly. “It’s okay to not feel hatred, Jae. Even if you were taught to. Even if it’s what your father expects.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I know. But you’re not your father.” Johnny leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “He might be king now. But one day… you’ll be the one on that throne.”
Jaehyun swallowed hard.
“And when that day comes,” Johnny continued, “you’ll have to make choices for your people, not his ghosts. Not his grudges. You think the weight of that makes you less human, but it doesn’t. If anything, it makes your feelings more important.”
Jaehyun sat back against the wall, closing his eyes.
“I don’t want to hate her,” he admitted quietly. “But it feels wrong not to.”
Johnny looked at him. “Y/N?”
Jaehyun nodded once.
“She’s smart. Honest. Kind to people who don’t deserve it. She drives me insane,” he added, almost bitterly. “And I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Johnny grinned softly. “Sounds like trouble.”
Jaehyun laughed under his breath, finally.
“She’s not what I thought she’d be,” he said. “None of this is.”
Johnny nudged his shoulder. “Then maybe… you’re not what you thought you’d be either.”
Jaehyun looked over at him, blinking.
“It’s okay to be curious, Jae,” Johnny said. “It’s okay to be wrong. To change. To feel something that doesn’t fit into a speech your father would’ve approved.”
Jaehyun let out a long breath.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“Anytime,” Johnny said, standing up. “Also—if you do end up falling for her? At least make it interesting. Keep the drama level royal.”
Jaehyun groaned, tossing a pillow at him as Johnny laughed and ducked out of the room.
But long after he was gone, Jaehyun stayed where he was.
Staring at the ceiling.
Wondering if the future he’d been raised for could somehow make room for the girl he wasn’t supposed to want.
---------------
The forest air was crisp, the canopy above casting golden dappled light onto the trail. Laughter echoed through the trees—Y/N and Taeyong walking ahead, chatting easily, their steps light over the uneven ground. Behind them, Jaehyun and Johnny followed at a more relaxed pace, the latter sipping from a water bottle while Jaehyun stayed mostly quiet, his eyes trailing up ahead.
He wasn’t eavesdropping.
He was watching.
Not that it mattered.
The conversation was harmless—Taeyong cracking jokes, Y/N grinning, her eyes shining. Still, something gnawed at Jaehyun’s stomach like a dull burn.
Then he saw it—Y/N’s foot catching on an exposed root, her balance tipping precariously. Before he could think, his body moved.
“Careful—” Jaehyun muttered, stepping forward and grabbing her by the arm.
His hand caught her just in time, steadying her before she could fall. But in doing so, the back of his knuckles scraped harshly against a rough strip of bark on a nearby tree.
“Ah—damn,” he hissed softly, retracting his hand.
Y/N turned quickly. “Oh—are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said, more brusquely than intended.
Still, her hand lingered on his arm for a second longer before she gently pulled away, murmuring, “Thanks.”
Back at the academy grounds, the sun had dipped lower, golden hour stretching long shadows across the marble courtyards. Students filtered indoors for dinner or study, but Jaehyun sat alone on the low stone wall near the meditation garden—her spot. His legs were stretched out lazily, one hand scrolling on his phone, the other resting palm-up, scraped and reddened.
He didn’t notice her until she was standing in front of him.
Y/N.
Arms folded. Unreadable expression.
He blinked up at her.
“What?” he asked, setting his phone down.
“I was going to walk by,” she said, “but then I remembered you saved me from face-planting into the forest floor.”
Jaehyun smirked. “That would’ve been entertaining.”
She rolled her eyes, but her gaze dropped to his injured hand.
“Let me see it.”
He hesitated, narrowing his eyes. “Why?”
“Because I’m being nice, and you’re making it really hard.”
Jaehyun scoffed, but slowly offered her his hand, watching as she knelt beside the fountain. With a wave of her fingers, water lifted gracefully into the air, suspended in a rippling orb. Her other hand took his—cool and light—and gently wrapped around his fingers.
Jaehyun’s usual snark froze on his tongue.
Her hands were warm. Steady. Confident.
The water shimmered between their palms, glowing faintly as it touched his scraped knuckles. It tingled—not painful, but soothing, like warm sun after a chill.
And then—
It was gone.
The sting. The cut. The blood.
Completely healed.
Jaehyun stared down at his now perfect skin, brows furrowed in disbelief.
“I thought that kind of healing was a myth,” he murmured, eyes flicking up to her.
Y/N stood, brushing off her skirt, a small satisfied smile on her lips. “My grandmother was a master healer. I was taught by the best.”
She turned on her heel.
Jaehyun stared after her, completely thrown off his usual axis.
“Wait—” he called, suddenly.
She stopped, glancing over her shoulder. “Hm?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
“…Thanks.”
Her smile deepened. “Don’t mention it, Your Highness.”
And then she disappeared down the path, her presence leaving behind the faint scent of water lilies and peppermint.
Jaehyun looked down at his hand again, still half-expecting the cuts to return.
But they didn’t.
He ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath.
“…She’s going to be the end of me.”
Y/N shut the door to her dorm room quietly, the click of the latch echoing in the stillness. The light from the hallway slipped away, leaving only the soft glow of the moon filtering in through the gauzy curtains. She leaned against the wood, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling a little too fast.
She couldn't stop seeing him.
That moment by the fountain, the way his skin warmed under her hands. The way he looked at her—really looked at her—as if he’d never been touched like that before. His expression had been somewhere between awe and curiosity… and something darker. Something she shouldn't be thinking about.
But gods, was he beautiful.
Y/N exhaled shakily and crossed to her bed, slipping out of her outer robes, folding them neatly even as her mind wandered.
His eyes—sharp and cutting but deep, always watching her like he was trying to figure her out. The tension in his jaw when he was annoyed, the smirk when he teased her. The muscles in his arms, the ink-black hair damp and curling against his forehead after training. The sheer height of him towering over her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest.
She never used to notice things like that. She was supposed to be composed. Dignified. Pure.
And yet…
As she curled up beneath the covers, her fingers drifted down her stomach on their own. Hesitating. Remembering the exact sound of his voice when he’d leaned down and whispered—
“You can trust me with a dirty secret.”
Her breath hitched.
She wasn’t supposed to think of him like this. Wasn’t supposed to feel this ache in her belly, this restless longing that settled deep between her thighs. But when her fingers brushed lightly against her clothed center, she gasped, her body arching just slightly off the bed.
Her other hand pressed to her lips, silencing her moan.
It’s just me, she told herself. Just relieving pressure. Just a release. Not about him.
But her body knew better.
She imagined the weight of Jaehyun’s body above her, his voice low and rough in her ear. His hands sliding down her hips, those perfect lips on her throat, the scent of sweat and cedarwood thick in the air. His voice in her mind—so bratty today, Princess. Maybe I should shut you up.
Y/N whimpered, her fingers moving slowly now, teasing herself the way she imagined he might. Rough at first, then gentle. Her body trembled under her touch, thighs tightening as the pleasure built, as heat twisted tighter and tighter through her limbs. She was close—too close—and her breath grew ragged.
“Jaehyun…” she whispered before she could stop it.
She came with a soft cry, legs shaking, chest heaving.
And then—
Silence.
Shame bloomed quickly. She rolled over, pulling the covers up to her chin, heart still racing.
What the hell was happening to her?
Why was it him she thought of, when she shouldn’t even like him?
Y/N closed her eyes tightly.
He’s the fire nation prince. Your supposed enemy. A cocky, annoying, arrogant menace.
But even that couldn’t stop the traitorous smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Because Jaehyun had also been gentle.
Thoughtful.
And worst of all—he made her feel something.
------------
Jaehyun stared at his communicator for a long time before finally pressing the call button.
It was late—too late for most students to be awake—but his father would be expecting one of his check-ins. This time, it wasn’t about grades or how well he was fitting in at the academy.
When his father’s face appeared, regal in his robes, framed by the golden lighting of the palace, Jaehyun straightened unconsciously.
“Father,” he said, voice a bit tight.
“Jaehyun,” the king replied. “You’re calling late. Is something wrong?”
Jaehyun hesitated. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about. Something that’s… been bothering me.”
A beat of silence passed.
“I’ve been taught my whole life to hate the Water Tribe,” Jaehyun continued, keeping his gaze steady. “To see them as lesser. As enemies. But ever since I came to this school… it’s not like that. The students here, they’re not my enemies. Most of them don’t even care about what happened generations ago.”
His father’s eyes narrowed slightly, though not with anger. More like calculation. “Go on.”
Jaehyun swallowed. “I don’t think I believe what I was taught anymore. I mean… how can I hate people I don’t even know? People who haven’t done anything wrong? The war ended decades ago.”
The king let out a low sigh, leaning back in his chair. “You sound like your mother.”
Jaehyun blinked.
His father looked away for a moment. “I didn’t always hate the Water Tribe either. But my father—your grandfather—he was filled with rage. He watched friends die in the war. He lost his brother. So I was raised on that anger. I inherited it without ever questioning if it was truly mine.”
Jaehyun’s brows furrowed. “So you don’t hate them?”
“I suppose I don’t,” the king admitted reluctantly. “Not personally. But you must understand, diplomacy is complicated. The Water Tribe may seem friendly now, but politics change in an instant. Trust the wrong person and it could cost your nation dearly.”
Jaehyun’s jaw clenched. He knew what his father was really warning him about.
“The people might not like it,” the king went on. “If you’re seen growing close to someone from that side—especially someone of status—there’ll be whispers. Some might even call you a traitor.”
Jaehyun looked down for a moment, thumb brushing the edge of the communicator. Y/N would never use me. He didn’t say it aloud. Not yet.
“I just think… maybe people have moved on more than we give them credit for,” Jaehyun said instead. “And maybe the problem isn’t them. Maybe it’s us. If we don’t show forgiveness, how can we expect them to?”
His father’s expression shifted—tired, worn. “You’re still young. Idealistic.”
“Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”
The king didn’t answer for a moment. Then he sighed again and said, “For now, just focus on school. Learn what you need. Make allies. The world outside will be waiting when you’re ready.”
Jaehyun nodded, but in his heart, something had already shifted. His father’s words were permission, in their own quiet, reserved way.
When the call ended, Jaehyun leaned back on his bed, arms folded behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, thinking of Y/N’s smile, the warmth of her hands wrapped around his, the conviction in her voice when she spoke of peace.
He wasn’t just imagining it anymore.
And now that he had a sliver of his father’s blessing—however cautious—it felt even harder to resist where his heart was leading him.
-------------------
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sneak peak:
“I know how to fix this,” he said lowly. “All of it.”
She blinked, breath catching. “How?”
“One night.” His eyes burned. “One wild, filthy, unhinged night. We get it out of our systems. Every stolen look, every thought we’ve tried to bury. Just… one night. You and me. No crowns. No tribes. Just primal fucking instinct.”
“Jaehyun,” she whispered, stunned.
His mouth was near hers now, not quite kissing, just hovering—close enough that their lips brushed every time one of them exhaled.
“You want it too,” he murmured. “I see it. Every time you look at me like you want to devour me. Every time you gasp over nothing when I’m near.”
Y/N whimpered softly, eyelids fluttering shut. His hand curled gently around her waist, guiding her until her back pressed into the cool stone wall.
“Say yes,” he whispered, lips ghosting her cheek. “Just one night. I swear I’ll ruin you so sweetly, you’ll never think of another man again.”
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⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 bestfriend!jaemin x fem!reader (ft. some dreamies)
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 Intro | Part 1 (coming July 10th) |
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 synopsis- You thought moving into your best friend's party house would be the most reckless decision you would make all year-turns out that was only the beginning. Now you're trying to figure out whether risking your friendship is worth admitting what you've both been pretending not to feel.
a/n- hili guys, I'm back hehe!!! This is a repost loll. I wasn’t feeling too confident and was about to give up on writing this whole thing. But I feel much better, and want to proceed. Sorry about the dense format and having to break this up into so many parts, tumblr is weird with length Ioll. I really hope you guys enjoy this story and please, let me know your thoughts, and if you'd like to be tagged in future parts. Luv you all mwah mwah 💋
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"Hey, is this seat taken?"
You looked up from the overwhelming spread of notecards scattered across the library table, fingers still holding one between them as your eyes met the familiar face standing nearby. You recognized him almost instantly—the boy who always sat a few rows behind you in lecture, the one who somehow looked attentive even during eight in the morning classes.
"No." You said quickly, offering a small smile. "Go ahead."
"Thanks." He slid his bag off his shoulder and set it carefully beside the chair before sitting down across from you. His eyes drifted over the color coded mess spread across the table, and a quiet laugh escaped him. "Studying for the psych exam?"
You let out a tired sigh, leaning back in your seat. "Attempting to, at least."
"I knew I recognized you from class." He said. "I wasn't completely sure at first, but then I saw the flashcards and figured nobody else would willingly suffer through this much material."
A laugh slipped out of you, softer this time. "It's actually getting concerning how much there is to memorize."
"Tell me about it." He unzipped his bag and pulled out a notebook thick with sticky notes and annotations tucked between the pages. "I take pretty detailed notes, though. They might help if you want."
You glanced down at the notebook before looking back at him. "Seriously? That would actually save my life."
His lips curved slightly, clearly amused by your reaction. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Definitely a yes." You pushed some of your flashcards aside to make room for him. "I've been needing someone organized to keep around anyway. I'm terrible at note taking."
"I can already tell." He teased, nodding toward the pile of cards threatening to slide off the table.
You stared at the mess in exaggerated offense before laughing again. "Okay, rude."
"Honest." He corrected with a grin.
For a moment, the conversation settled into something normal. Like speaking to someone you'd already known longer than a few minutes. Then he straightened slightly and held his hand out toward you. "I'm Jaemin, by the way."
You took his hand, surprised by how warm it was despite the cold air in the library. "Y/n."
"It's nice to finally know your name." He said.
You smiled without meaning to. "Likewise."
And somehow, between shared notes, late night study sessions, and conversations that always lasted longer than either of you planned, that was how you and Na Jaemin became friends.
══════════════════════════
Two years later.
You were convinced college itself wasn't actually the stressful part. Classes were fine, annoying sometimes, exhausting occasionally, but manageable. Apartment hunting, though? Apartment hunting felt specifically designed to push people toward insanity. You were sprawled across your bed with your laptop open beside you and your phone in your hand, scrolling through endless listings that somehow managed to be either outrageously expensive or suspiciously cheap with absolutely no middle ground. One place proudly advertised "natural lighting" despite every photo looking like it had been taken inside a basement bunker. Another charged nearly a thousand dollars for a bedroom with no windows.
You groaned and let your phone drop against the mattress, staring up at the ceiling for a second. Your phone buzzed almost immediately afterward. Jaemin.
You answered without thinking, pressing the phone to your ear as you rolled onto your stomach again. "Hello?"
"Wow." His voice came through warm and amused. "You sound thrilled to hear from me."
You let out a long sigh. "Sorry. I'm apartment hunting."
"Ah." He hummed knowingly. "That explains the suffering in your voice."
"You have no idea. I just found a place charging nine hundred dollars for a room with no windows."
"Sounds like a mental hospital."
A laugh escaped before you could stop it, sudden and tired.
"There she is." He said lightly, sounding pleased with himself. "You were starting to sound one second away from a complete breakdown."
You smiled, eyes drifting back toward the ceiling. Talking to Jaemin had always been easy in a way that snuck up on you over time. Somewhere between late night study sessions, random food runs, and the hundreds of little conversations in between, he became the first person you wanted to call whenever something happened, good or bad.
"So." He continued casually. "I actually called because I wanted to talk to you about the apartment thing."
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows. "I'm listening."
"Well..." You could practically hear the grin in his voice. "I found a place. And before you reject me immediately, at least let me explain first."
You narrowed your eyes instinctively even though he couldn't see you. "This sounds scary."
He laughed softly. "I'm serious. It's a house I just moved into, and then I remembered you were looking for a roommate."
Your brows furrowed. "Jaemin..."
"I know." He cut in quickly. "Living with a man sounds horrifying, I understand completely."
You laughed. "At least you're self aware."
"I try my best." He paused dramatically before continuing. "But technically, you wouldn't really be living with me."
You sat up a little straighter. "What does that even mean?"
"It's split into two sections." He explained. "Like two separate flats in one house. You'd have your own bedroom, bathroom, living room—basically your own entire space."
"Wait...really?"
"Really." His voice softened slightly, like he already knew he was winning you over. "Come look at it with me. If you hate it, I'll never bring it up again."
You hesitated for three seconds before sighing. "...Okay."
"Okay?" He repeated immediately, sounding brighter already.
You smiled to yourself. "Okay."
"Perfect. Be ready in twenty."
And before you could say anything else, he hung up.
Exactly twenty minutes later, Jaemin pulled up outside your dorm with music playing quietly through the speakers and one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel. You climbed into the passenger seat, immediately noticing the smug expression already waiting for you. "What?" You asked suspiciously.
"You trusted me enough to get into my car without even asking where we're going."
You shut the door. "You've driven me places before."
"Yeah, but now we're older." He glanced over dramatically. "More mysterious...more dangerous."
You looked around the interior of the car slowly. "You drive a silver Honda."
He paused for a moment, a smile threatening to appear on his face. "It's a very intimidating silver Honda."
You rolled your eyes, smiling as he pulled away from the curb. Music drifted softly through the car while Jaemin talked about the house with the confidence of someone trying very hard not to sound excited.
"You're overselling this." You told him eventually.
"I'm underselling it, actually."
You turned toward him. "That confident?"
"You'll see."
And annoyingly enough, he was right. The house sat farther from campus than you expected, tucked away in a quieter area surrounded by tall trees and open land. The moment you stepped out of the car, the silence hit you first. No traffic, no shouting students somewhere nearby, no distant sirens or crowded sidewalks. Just wind moving through trees and the faint sound of birds somewhere in the distance.
"Oh..." You murmured before you could stop yourself.
Beside you, Jaemin grinned immediately. "Right?"
The house itself was bigger than you imagined. Not flashy or obnoxiously expensive looking, just... nice. The kind of place that actually looked lived in instead of staged for listing photos.
"How did you even find this?" You asked as the two of you walked toward the front door.
"Connections." He answered dramatically.
You laughed quietly as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside first. The interior somehow looked even better. Sunlight spilled through wide windows across hardwood floors, and the entire place smelled faintly like laundry detergent. You barely had time to take it in before Jaemin grabbed another key from his pocket and headed toward a separate door farther down the hallway.
"And this." He announced while unlocking it. "Would be your space."
You stepped inside slowly, your eyes widening almost immediately. It was already furnished. Not in an overly decorated, trying too hard way, but comfortably. A cozy living area opened into a small hallway leading toward a bedroom and bathroom. The lighting was soft. There were shelves built into the walls, blankets folded neatly over the couch, and enough space that it didn't feel cramped or temporary.
"No kitchen down here." Jaemin explained casually, leaning against the doorway while watching your reaction carefully. "But upstairs is shared and obviously you can come up whenever you want, door will be unlocked. Other than that, this whole section is basically yours."
You walked farther inside slowly, almost nervous to touch anything. "This is..." You looked around again, genuinely speechless for a second. "Actually perfect."
His grin returned instantly. "I know."
"Don't ruin this moment." You said, turning to him.
"No promises." He laughed quietly before leading you upstairs to the main level.
His section of the house was larger—open kitchen, huge living room, wide windows that let sunlight pour across the floors in golden streaks. It already looked lived in in a very Jaemin kind of way. Shoes kicked carelessly by the door, a hoodie thrown over the back of the couch, half open boxes sitting near the dining table because apparently unpacking wasn't a priority. But what really caught your attention was when he opened the balcony door. The backyard stretched farther than you expected, surrounded by trees that made the entire place feel secluded from the rest of the world. A pool reflected sunlight beneath the afternoon sky while distant city lights barely peeked through the landscape beyond the trees.
Your jaw dropped slightly. "Woah."
"I know." He repeated proudly.
You turned toward him slowly. "How much is this place?"
His expression shifted immediately into something suspiciously innocent.
Your eyes narrowed. "Jaemin."
"I think..." He started carefully. "Hmm, you could probably manage like... five hundred?"
You stared at him. "Five hundred dollars?" You repeated slowly.
"Mhm." He nodded absentmindedly.
You pointed around. "For this?"
"Mhm."
You crossed your arms immediately. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing's wrong with it." He said, shaking his head.
"There is absolutely something wrong with it."
He rubbed the back of his neck, already trying not to laugh.
"Jaemin."
"Okay, listen." He held his hands up quickly. "Before you judge me—"
You sighed deeply. "Oh no."
"It's not bad." He defended immediately, which somehow made it sound worse.
"The fact you said that means it's definitely bad."
He laughed. "I kinda want to turn it into a party house."
You blinked once. "A what?"
"Only on Fridays and Saturdays." He corrected quickly. "Not constantly, I'm not insane."
You stared at him. "Wow, thanks for the clarification." You said sarcastically.
He followed after you when you walked back toward the kitchen, continuing his argument like he clearly rehearsed this already. "Think about it." He said. "College students spend ridiculous amounts of money on mediocre parties, this place is perfect for it."
You let out a hollow chuckle. "You sound like a businessman."
"I am a businessman."
You paused before turning to him. "You failed economics sophomore year."
He pointed at you immediately. "That was one time."
"Twice."
He let out a small helpless laugh, before straightening up his posture again. "I'd only use the upstairs area." He continued. "Your section stays yours completely. And every party night, I'll pay you a hundred dollars for dealing with the noise."
You paused. "...A hundred?"
"A hundred." He confirmed confidently. "Plus free access to anything at the party. Food, drinks, whatever."
Honestly, the offer itself was ridiculous in the best way possible. Cheap rent, a beautiful place, your own space entirely, living with someone you trusted more than most people. The only real problem was the parties themselves. You didn't really enjoy them anymore—not like freshman year when everything still felt exciting and new. Now all you could think about was loud music vibrating through walls, strangers spilling drinks everywhere, people yelling over each other until three in the morning. Just imagining it made you tired.
Jaemin noticed your hesitation almost immediately and for once, he stopped joking. "If it ever gets too much, I'll stop, seriously." He reassured quietly.
You looked over at him. There wasn't any teasing in his expression anymore, no smug grin, just sincerity.
"You wouldn't have to deal with anything alone here." He added after a moment. "I mean that."
Something about the way he said it settled over you quietly, because that was Jaemin. Underneath all the flirting and nonstop jokes and dramatic nonsense, he was dependable in a way that actually mattered. The kind of person who showed up, the kind who noticed things without needing to be told. You let out a slow breath. "...Okay."
His eyes widened slightly. "Okay?"
You nodded. "I'll do it."
"Wait, actually?"
You laughed at how genuinely shocked he sounded. "Yes, actually."
The grin that spread across his face was immediate and bright enough that you almost laughed again. "Oh, this is going to be fun."
"That sentence concerns me deeply."
He smiled harder. "It should."
You shook your head, smiling as well. "When can I move in?"
"Tomorrow." He answered instantly. "Right now, even. I'll carry all your boxes like a gentleman."
You put a hand on your hip. "You complain carrying grocery bags."
"That's different, those are heavy."
"Well regardless, next week would probably be better." You glanced around the house one more time. "Gives me time to sort everything out with the dorm."
"Perfect." He smiled easily.
And a week later, you stood in the middle of your new living room surrounded by half open boxes while Jaemin struggled dramatically with a lamp near the doorway. "This thing is attacking me." He complained.
"You said you were strong."
"I am, it's just hard." He shrugged.
You laughed from where you sat cross legged on the floor organizing books into messy little piles. Music drifted faintly from upstairs while evening sunlight spilled warmly through the windows, painting everything gold. The space still felt unfamiliar in places, unfinished and cluttered with boxes, but comfortably good.
Jaemin finally managed to wrestle the lamp into place before dropping onto the couch dramatically. "There." He announced proudly. "Home."
You looked around your new space slowly before glancing over at him. And despite all the doubts you had before, despite the strange arrangement and the inevitable chaos Jaemin would absolutely bring into this house, the nervousness you carried for weeks had finally started fading. Because somehow, standing here with half unpacked boxes and Jaemin arguing with furniture in the background, this already felt more like home than the dorm ever had.
══════════════════════════
"Party night!" Jaemin announced as he dropped onto the couch beside you with enough energy to make you tired just looking at him. He fell back dramatically into the cushions, one arm stretched lazily across the top of the couch.
You glanced up from your laptop where you'd been halfheartedly scrolling through discussion posts for class. "Mhm."
Outside your window, the sun had already started slipping lower behind the trees surrounding the house, leaving streaks of warm orange light stretched across the floor. Jaemin had been preparing for this since noon like he was hosting some life changing social event instead of a college party. You lowered your laptop slightly. "I'll probably head to my friend's place tonight and crash there."
Jaemin turned toward you so fast you almost laughed before he even spoke, one hand clutching his chest dramatically. "You're leaving on opening night?"
You finally looked at him, trying not to smile at the offense written all over his face. "Yes, you know I don't party."
He sank deeper into the couch cushions with a slight frown. "Yeah, I know you don't. But...why?"
A small breath of laughter escaped you. "Do you actually want me to answer that honestly?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "I mean, yeah. I'd rather know than accidentally push you into something you hate."
You slowly closed your laptop and set it aside, tucking one leg beneath yourself as you leaned against the couch. "Sure. Freshman year, I almost died from alcohol poisoning." The words came out strangely casual for something that had once terrified you. "After that, drinking kind of stopped being fun for me." You looked down at your hands briefly before glancing back at him. "Is that a good enough reason for you?"
The smile disappeared from his face instantly, not dramatically, it just faded. His eyes dropped for a second before lifting back to yours. "Yeah." He said softly. "I think that's a very good reason."
The room settled into silence for a moment, filled only by the faint bass vibrating through the walls from upstairs. Then Jaemin leaned forward, forearms resting against his knees. "For what it's worth." He said carefully. "I hope you know that if you ever did want to party again, or drink again, or whatever falls into that category..." His eyes stayed on yours when he said it. "I've got your back."
Something in his voice made you look at him more closely.
"Nothing will ever happen to you when you're around me." He added quietly. "Ever."
Maybe it was ridiculous how immediately you believed him, but Jaemin wasn't careless with serious things. When he meant something, you could hear it. You smiled faintly. "Thanks, Jaem."
"Of course." He stayed quiet another second before glancing back over at you again, his expression brightening slightly. "So..." His tone lifted hopefully. "Does this mean there's absolutely zero chance you'll stay tonight?"
You laughed softly through your nose. "You really want me there that badly?"
"Yes." He answered immediately, without hesitation. "It's opening night, you live here. It'll feel weird if you disappear before it even starts."
You looked away for a second, thinking. The idea still made you nervous. Parties reminded you of things you worked hard not to think about anymore—blurry memories, panic, waking up ashamed and disoriented and swearing youd never let yourself get that bad again. You didn't miss drinking, you definitely didn't miss the version of yourself attached to those memories. But this wasn't freshman year anymore, and this wasn't a stranger. "Give me a rundown first." You finally said.
His entire face lit up instantly. "There we go." He stood immediately and held his hand out toward you. "Come on."
You laughed under your breath but took his hand anyway, letting him pull you off the couch. His grip lingered a second longer than necessary before he let go.
"Okay." He started while guiding you upstairs. "Main party area is here and outside." Furniture had been pushed around to make more space, LED lights casting dim colors across the walls while speakers sat tucked into corners waiting to be turned up louder later. The whole place smelled faintly like cleaning supplies mixed with whatever candle Jaemin had lit earlier.
He pointed toward the balcony door. "The balcony is completely off limits unless you're a host or you."
You blinked. "Host?"
"Me and Haechan." He smiled. "And another friend you haven't met yet, Renjun. You'll like him, he's normal."
You laughed quietly. "That's reassuring."
"It should be."
He continued walking, bringing you toward a storage closet tucked near the hallway before opening it dramatically like he was revealing hidden treasure. "Storage closet." Inside were stacks of plastic cups, unopened boxes, and bags of chips. "But later." He continued proudly. "This'll be filled with mixers, snacks, drinks, alcohol, all that. So feel free to help yourself whenever."
You hummed approvingly. "Bad thing to tell me."
He laughed. "You barely eat my food anyway."
You smiled as he shut the closet again before leading you farther down the hallway. This time, though, he stopped in front of a closed door and the shift in his demeanor was immediate.
"No one is allowed in this room." His voice lost all playfulness. "Not guests, not friends." He glanced toward you. "Not even you."
Your brows lifted slightly at the sudden seriousness in his tone. "Okay..."
"The door doesn't lock from the outside." He explained calmly. "So if you ever see someone trying to go in here, tell me immediately."
His expression stayed relaxed, but there was enough firmness underneath it that you instantly understood he wasn't exaggerating.
"So it's that serious?" You asked carefully.
"Yeah."
You nodded. "Okay."
Almost immediately afterward, the tension disappeared from his face again and he bumped your shoulder lightly with his. "Anyway." He said, clapping his hands together once. "Party starts at eleven, ends around three. Tonight's free because it's opening night."
"And tomorrow?"
"No party tomorrow." He answered. "I wanna see how tonight goes first."
You leaned lightly against the kitchen island, glancing around the room again. "What about cops?"
Jaemin smiled like he rehearsed this answer already. "No neighbors close enough to complain and I'm legal, so technically everything here is legal on my end."
You laughed quietly. "You sound prepared."
"I am prepared."
Honestly, somehow the entire thing felt less intimidating now that he walked you through it. Less chaotic than you imagined.
His eyes flickered toward you hopefully. "So...does that mean yes?"
You smiled despite yourself. "I think it's a yes."
Before you could react, Jaemin pulled you into a hug. It was quick, solid enough that it caught you off guard for a second.
"This is gonna be fun." He said against your shoulder. "Thank you for being understanding about all this."
You laughed softly, patting his back once. "Of course."
As the night crept closer though, your confidence started fading again. By eight, you were sitting cross legged on your bed staring blankly at your phone while muffled music vibrated faintly through the ceiling. Every now and then you heard footsteps upstairs or furniture scraping across the floor. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, maybe staying tonight was stupid. Before you could spiral too far into the thought, three knocks echoed on the door, startling you enough to sit up immediately. You got up and opened the door to find Haechan carrying a box full of liquor bottles while another guy stood behind him holding bags full of juice and mixers.
Haechan grinned instantly. "Well, if it isn't the new tenant. Thank you for being cool with all this."
You smiled warmly. "Hey, Haechan."
"It's been forever." He stepped inside carefully. "How've you been?"
"Alive."
He paused thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Good enough for college."
Your attention shifted toward the guy behind him. "And you must be Renjun?"
He smiled immediately at the recognition, softer than you expected. "Yes, nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
Haechan adjusted the box in his arms. "Door upstairs unlocked?"
"Should be."
"Come upstairs with us." He added casually. "You're part of this now."
You hesitated briefly before shrugging. "Okay."
Jaemin was sweeping the floor when you walked in, sleeves shoved up his forearms while music played softly through the speakers. He looked up immediately and smiled. "There they are. What's up, y'all?"
"This fucking party." Haechan grinned, pulling a vodka bottle from the box and admiring it proudly. "Opening night, baby."
Jaemin shook his head with a laugh. "Yeah? Then stop standing around and help."
You instinctively moved toward the extra supplies near the counter, but Jaemin immediately pointed the broom toward you.
"Nope."
You blinked. "What?"
"You don't do anything."
"Jaemin, I live here—"
"I don't care." He pointed toward the stool beside the island. "Sit there and look pretty."
"House husband." Renjun muttered teasingly from the kitchen.
Jaemin smirked without looking up. "Exactly."
You rolled your eyes, smiling as you sat down.
Meanwhile, Haechan leaned dramatically against the counter with a vodka bottle dangling from one hand. "Y/n." He announced. "Since Jaemin's staying sober tonight, you're drinking with me, right?"
"Stop trying to recruit people into alcoholism." Jaemin said immediately.
Haechan pointed accusingly at him. "See? This is why nobody lets you have fun."
You laughed quietly. "I'll probably have a drink or two."
Jaemin stopped sweeping, slowly looking over at you, caution immediately settling across his expression. "One?"
"Maybe two." You corrected.
His head tilted slightly. "Are you sure?"
You shrugged lightly, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "No way I survive a party sober."
Haechan clapped excitedly. "Exactly the attitude we need."
Jaemin shot him a look before turning back toward you. "And you're still comfortable?"
You nodded once, smiling. "I'll be okay."
He studied your face for another second before finally nodding. "Okay."
"Anyway." Haechan interrupted. "Jisung said he'd bartend if tonight's a hit."
Jaemin hummed thoughtfully. "A bartender actually sounds smart."
"He wants forty dollars." Renjun added.
"Fair."
"But he refuses to stand behind a kitchen island all night." Haechan continued.
Jaemin laughed. "That sounds exactly like him."
"Do you think this party's actually gonna work?" Renjun asked while emerging from the storage closet.
Jaemin shrugged. "Who knows."
Haechan checked his phone. "The other house is throwing tonight too."
The shift in the atmosphere was immediate, subtle, but immediate. Jaemin's grip tightened slightly around the broom handle while your stomach sank. Everyone knew that house. Since freshman year, people practically lived there. It had a reputation for ruining people slowly—so slow, nobody noticed until they were throwing up three nights a week and crying in upstairs bathrooms pretending they were still having fun. By the time most people realized how bad things had gotten, it was already too late...including you.
"But." Haechan added quickly. "I endorsed this place, so maybe people will actually stay here tonight."
"You still go there?" Jaemin asked quietly. Something about his voice felt heavier than it should've.
Haechan frowned. "Not really, but everyone else does. Chill out."
Jaemin let out a low humorless hum. "No." He said slowly. "I'm just confused why you'd bring that up right now."
Haechan rolled his eyes. "You're still not over that?"
Jaemin turned toward him, and for the first time since you met him, something about him looked genuinely cold. Then his gaze landed on you, and the expression disappeared almost instantly. "Can you give us a minute?" He asked quietly.
You blinked. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He answered quickly. "We just need to talk."
Haechan sighed dramatically behind him.
"Okay." You said slowly. "My room's open if you guys need anything."
"I should head out too." Renjun added carefully, grabbing his keys. "Need to get ready."
You walked him downstairs before heading back to your room. A few minutes later, muffled yelling started upstairs. You couldn't make out the words, only raised voices bleeding through the ceiling. Then the front door slammed hard enough to shake the walls slightly, and nothing but silence followed. A moment later, three soft knocks sounded against your door. "I'm coming in." Jaemin called gently before stepping inside.
You looked up immediately as he crossed the room and sat beside you on the couch. "Are you okay?" You asked softly.
He smiled instantly. "Yeah."
"What happened?"
"We got into an argument." He shrugged. "He left, that's all."
You studied him quietly. He looked calm again, but there was still tension lingering underneath it. "Will he be back?"
"Definitely." He laughed softly. "We never stay mad long."
Then after a second he looked over again. "Did you hear us yelling?"
"A little."
He sighed. "Sorry if that scared you."
You laughed quietly. "I'm not five, Jaemin. Yelling doesn't scare me."
"I know." He murmured.
"I was worried about you." You said softly.
His eyes lifted back toward yours. Something in his expression relaxed briefly before he looked away again. "Don't be." He said quietly. "Haechan's obnoxious, but he wouldn't hurt a fly."
You chuckled. "He's physically incapable of hurting a fly."
That finally made him laugh. "True."
The room settled into silence afterward, then suddenly he looked over at you again.
"Thank you for caring." He said quietly. "I love you."
The words came naturally from him now, but somehow they still hit harder for you to say back every time. You smiled softly. "I care about you a lot too."
He hummed quietly, rubbing his palms against his knees before standing. "Well." He sighed dramatically. "Party starts in two hours. I should probably finish pretending I know what I'm doing."
You smiled. "Need help?"
He shook his head immediately. "Not really."
"Wow."
He laughed while backing toward the door. "You don't need to do anything. Just sit here and look pretty like usual."
You rolled your eyes. "Is that the only line you know?"
"No." He answered easily. "But it's the truest one."
You shook your head as he smiled one last time.
"Eleven." He reminded softly. "But come up whenever you're ready."
And somehow, eleven came much faster than you expected. At first it was only muffled music through the ceiling, then footsteps, then voices. You sat in your flat listening to people pour through the front door while laughter echoed through the floorboards and bass vibrated faintly through the walls. Every few seconds someone shouted over the music followed by loud cheering somewhere upstairs. You stared at your phone another thirty minutes before finally sighing and standing. "Okay." You muttered to yourself. "I can survive one party."
The moment you opened your flat door, noise rushed toward you instantly. Music pounded loud enough to feel in your chest while unfamiliar voices bounced through the stairwell and down the hallway. You barely made it two steps before someone bumped directly into your shoulder.
"Oh shit—sorry." A guy stumbled backward before immediately grinning at you. His cheeks were already flushed pink. "Wait...you're hot. Wanna drink with me?"
You physically leaned away from the overwhelming smell of alcohol on his breath. Before you could answer, you spotted Renjun near the front door stopping another guy from carrying a drink outside. "Renjun!" You called over the music. "Where's Haechan?"
"Upstairs!" He yelled back, pointing toward the second floor.
You nodded quickly and slipped through the crowd toward the stairs. The upstairs looked completely different now. The living room was packed with people talking over the music while colored lights flickered dimly across the walls. Someone had opened the windows, cool night air drifting inside while groups crowded around the kitchen island laughing loudly. A couple danced near the speakers without a care in the world while someone butchered song lyrics from across the room. And right in the center of it all—Haechan...of course. He was already surrounded by people, drink in hand while dancing obnoxiously with the confidence only drunk people possessed.
You laughed quietly to yourself. Honestly...this wasn't nearly as bad as you expected. You slipped toward the kitchen instead, grabbing one of the plastic cups before pouring yourself soda and juice. No alcohol, just something to hold. You leaned lightly against the counter, watching the room around you. Maybe you actually could do this sober. Before you realized it, someone plucked the cup from your hand. You looked over immediately to find Jaemin beside you. His sleeves were rolled up again, hair slightly messy now from moving through the crowded house while dim colored lights flashed across his face. Without asking, he took a sip from your drink.
You rolled your eyes. "I thought you were staying sober."
"I am." He laughed.
You narrowed your eyes. "Then how do you know this doesn't have alcohol in it?"
"Because." He said casually before taking another sip. "I watched you make it."
You stared at him for a second before laughing. "Are you stalking me?"
"Yes. I've checked on you like six times already." He admitted.
You blinked. "Six?"
"Mhm."
You smiled. "You're insane."
"Renjun told me you almost got kidnapped by a drunk freshman downstairs." He defended. "Clearly I'm needed."
You laughed softly, taking another sip while glancing around the room again. He looked happy, the energy suited him annoyingly well.
"So?" You asked finally. "How's opening night going?"
Jaemin slowly turned to look over the crowded room with a smug expression. "Pretty good."
"Pretty good?" You gestured around the packed house. "There's like forty people here."
"Forty three." He corrected immediately.
You blinked. "You counted?"
"I'm hosting. I have to know these things."
You shook your head, smiling. "I think it's a success."
He looked weirdly pleased hearing that from you specifically. "You still managing?" He asked after a second, eyes flickering back toward your untouched drink.
"Shockingly, yes."
His gaze drifted toward Haechan across the room who was currently screaming lyrics with two girls hanging off him.
Jaemin sighed dramatically. "You cannot trust that man around alcohol."
Almost on cue, Haechan looked over and immediately pointed excitedly toward both of you before shoving through the crowd. He looked genuinely gone already... like, blacked out. "Hiiiiii!" He announced loudly the second he reached the kitchen, throwing an arm around Jaemin's shoulders while laughing at absolutely nothing.
Jaemin physically recoiled. "Why do you smell like alcohol already?"
"Because tonight is beautiful." Haechan answered emotionally.
You burst out laughing.
Haechan pointed dramatically around the room. "LOOK AT THIS. ITS A HIT."
Jaemin laughed under his breath. "It's going well."
"Going well?" Haechan repeated loudly. "No. No, no, no. This—" He gestured wildly toward the crowd. "Is business."
"How many drinks have you had?" Jaemin asked unamused.
"That doesn't matter." Haechan answered sloppily. "I'm a visionary." He suddenly looked serious again. "You should charge more than fifteen dollars."
You blinked. "Wait...fifteen dollars per person?"
Haechan looked at you like you finally solved a mystery. "YES."
You glanced around the packed room again. "There's like forty people here."
"Exactly."
Jaemin rolled his eyes. "I'm not trying to rob college students."
"You're too nice." Haechan mumbled.
"And you're drunk."
He smiled. "Correct."
Then immediately his eyes brightened again.
"Anyway." He grabbed your wrist lightly. "Shot."
You stared at him. "We said a drink."
His brows furrowed. "It's basically the same thing."
"It is not." You said.
"Close enough." He shrugged.
You looked toward Jaemin for help, but he was already laughing quietly. "Oh, so now this is funny to you?" You questioned.
"A little." Jaemin said with an amused chuckle.
Haechan was already digging through bottles. "Come on." He insisted. "Opening night shot."
You sighed dramatically. "Whatever."
"YES." He immediately pointed toward Jaemin. "You too."
Jaemin shook his head. "Nope, staying sober."
"It's one shot." Haechan whined. "I want you to feel included."
"I already feel included."
"You're being boring." Haechan wined louder.
Jaemin sighed deeply before finally holding his hand out. "Fine."
Haechan cheered loud enough for nearby people to look over before pouring three shots from the nearest bottle without actually checking what it was. "Opening night." He grinned, raising his glass.
Jaemin lifted his reluctantly and you followed.
"One, two, three—"
The alcohol burned immediately, violently... too violent. Your entire face twisted before you even swallowed fully. "What the hell—"
Jaemin coughed beside you while Haechan nearly collapsed laughing.
"That tasted like gasoline." You wheezed. "What the fuck did you give me?"
Your throat genuinely felt like it was melting.
Immediately suspicious, you grabbed the bottle from the counter, then froze.
"...Haechan."
He looked over innocently.
"You gave me 190 proof alcohol?"
Haechan blinked once before bursting into horrified laughter. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO." He shouted through laughter. "I just grabbed the first bottle!"
Jaemin smacked the back of his head instantly. "She hasn't drank in forever, are you insane?"
"I said I was sorry!"
You opened your mouth to respond, but your stomach twisted. "Oh no."
Jaemin's expression changed instantly. "What?"
You covered your mouth quickly. "I'm gonna throw up." Without another word, you turned and shoved through the crowd toward the stairs while Jaemin hurried after you.
"Y/n—wait—"
You barely made it downstairs before dropping to your knees in front of the toilet. The alcohol came back up almost immediately. Honestly...not your finest moment.
Jaemin appeared in the doorway seconds later. "Are you okay?" He asked quickly, crouching beside you while pulling your hair away from your face without hesitation.
You nodded weakly between coughs. "I think my throat dissolved."
He laughed despite himself. "You literally drank 95% alcohol."
You groaned against the toilet seat. "I trusted you people." A weak laugh escaped you before you immediately regretted it.
After a few miserable minutes, the worst finally passed. You sat back against the bathtub while Jaemin handed you water, watching you carefully the entire time. "You good?"
"I think so." You rinsed your mouth before standing slowly. "I'm never listening to Haechan again."
"That's a healthy conclusion."
You brushed your teeth while Jaemin leaned against the doorway watching you with obvious amusement. "You're taking this surprisingly well." He admitted.
You shrugged tiredly. "Honestly, throwing up isn't even the embarrassing part." You pointed your toothbrush toward him. "The embarrassing part is doing it ten minutes into the party."
You finished brushing your teeth before collapsing dramatically onto your couch. "I think I'm done for tonight. Blame Haechan."
He nodded sincerely. "Understandable."
But honestly...you were a little disappointed.
You actually wanted to stay upstairs longer and Jaemin noticed immediately. "You're bummed out." He said.
You stared at him. "No I'm not."
"You are."
You sighed into the couch cushion. "I was actually starting to have fun a little, couldn't even dance."
He stared at you for a second, then suddenly grabbed your remote. Before you could question him, music started playing through your TV. You looked up immediately. "What are you doing?"
"If you can't go to the party." He said simply, holding his hand out toward you. "The party comes to you."
You burst out laughing. "Jaemin, you're so corny—"
"Yeah, yeah, come on. Song's not getting any longer."
You shook your head, smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt as he wiggled his fingers impatiently. Finally, you grabbed his hand and he pulled you up immediately. Somehow, in the middle of your dim living room while a massive party raged upstairs, the two of you started dancing like complete idiots. Half the time you could barely hear the TV over the bass vibrating through the ceiling, but neither of you cared. Jaemin spun you around dramatically at one point and nearly sent both of you crashing into the coffee table laughing.
"This is so stupid." You laughed breathlessly.
He grinned. "You're smiling, though."
You hated that he was right. By the time the song ended, both of you were laughing too hard to breathe properly. Jaemin bent slightly at the waist catching his breath, ears flushed red.
You narrowed your eyes. "Are you drunk?"
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No. Just happy."
Something about the way he said it made it harder to look away from him for a second. Then he finally straightened again. "I should probably get back upstairs."
You nodded slowly. "Yeah."
He hesitated briefly before looking at you again. "I'll come check on you later, okay?"
"I'll survive."
"I know." His smile softened slightly. "But still."
You looked down for a second, suddenly too aware of how close he was standing. "Okay."
"And if you need literally anything." He added while backing toward the door. "Call me immediately."
"Yes, father."
He pointed at you. "Mock me all you want, but I'm still right."
Then he disappeared upstairs again. The music overhead grew louder once more, but now it sounded distant. Almost comforting in a strange way. You sat back against the couch laughing quietly to yourself while exhaustion slowly settled into your body. Your night had ended horribly early and somehow...it had still been good. Eventually your eyes started drifting shut, and before you realized it, you'd fallen asleep curled against the couch cushions.
Hours later, the party had mostly died down. The house was quieter now, music softer upstairs while scattered voices echoed faintly through the floorboards. Jaemin stepped carefully into your flat after knocking softly once. The TV still glowed dimly across the room and there you were. Asleep exactly where he left you.
A small smile appeared on his face immediately. "Of course." He murmured quietly.
He walked over carefully before crouching beside you. You barely stirred when he slid one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back, lifting you carefully from the couch. Your face instinctively buried against his chest, he tried not to smile too much at that. Once he reached your room, he laid you down gently beneath the blankets, making sure you were fully covered before stepping back. Jaemin stood there for another quiet second, just looking at you. He didn't know why he couldn't just say it—admit how he really felt with words instead of the countless actions you probably brushed off as him being friendly.
Well, he did know.
You'd never given him a reason to think you wanted him that way. At least, not that he noticed. You couldn't even bring yourself to say you loved him back. There were no hard feelings about it, he knew you cared. He knew you were trying your best, and that some things didn't come out as naturally for you as they did for him. A small smile appeared at his lips. He reached up, intending to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, but stopped himself halfway. The greatest gift he'd ever been given was having you here with him. He couldn't risk losing that.
Finally, he leaned over, switched off your lamp, and quietly slipped out of the room, locking the door behind him.
══════════════════════════
You stirred awake slowly, sunlight spilling across your bed through the cracks in your curtains. For a second you just laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling while your body felt heavy. The house above you was finally quiet now, the loud bass and voices from the night before completely gone. You reached over blindly for your phone: 8:28 AM.
A miserable sound left your throat as you rolled over dramatically, pulling the blanket over your head in another attempt to fall asleep...nothing. Your body was tired, but your brain had already decided it was awake. You sighed heavily before finally dragging yourself out of bed. The memories from the night before slowly returned while you brushed your teeth. The party, the dancing, the horrible shot...throwing up. Jaemin dancing around your living room like an idiot. You laughed quietly to yourself at the memory while washing your face. Honestly, the night had gone significantly better than expected.
About twenty minutes later, you headed upstairs in an oversized hoodie and pajama shorts, the smell of cleaning supplies already faintly lingering through the hallway before you even reached the kitchen. The aftermath of the party was everywhere. A couple empty cups still sat abandoned near the couch, the balcony door cracked open letting cool morning air drift through the house. Music played quietly from Jaemin's speaker now—something soft and relaxed compared to the chaos from last night.
Jaemin himself was standing near the kitchen island with a trash bag in one hand while wiping down the counter with the other. His hair looked messy, dark hoodie hanging loosely over him while tiredness still lingered faintly beneath his eyes.
He looked up immediately when he heard you, a small smile spreading across his face. "Good morning." He greeted warmly, tossing another cup into the trash bag.
You smiled back automatically as you walked toward the kitchen. "Good morning."
"How was your sleep?" He asked, tying off the trash bag before leaning against the counter.
"Well." You answered honestly while opening the pantry. "And yours?"
"Good." He replied with a quiet laugh. "Though I did discover drunk people somehow miss trash cans from two inches away."
You laughed softly while pulling pancake mix from the shelf. "Sounds traumatic."
"It was." He said seriously, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. "I've seen things."
You laughed under your breath while grabbing a bowl from the cabinet. "How late did the party go?" You asked, setting the bowl down on the counter.
"People finally started leaving around three thirty." Jaemin answered, carrying the trash bag toward the door. "Haechan tried to start an afterparty too."
You paused mid motion and looked at him. "Absolutely not."
"Exactly what I said." He replied with a grin.
You shook your head, smiling while starting the pancake batter.
"You feeling okay?" Jaemin asked after a moment, watching you from across the kitchen.
You let out a dramatic sigh. "I think I'm still recovering."
"That shot really destroyed you." He laughed.
"You gave me bleach disguised as alcohol." You accused while whisking the batter.
"Haechan gave you bleach disguised as alcohol." Jaemin corrected immediately, pointing toward you. "Don't put that on me."
You narrowed your eyes playfully. "You still took the shot too."
He paused for a second before nodding slowly. "...but I didn't throw it up."
You laughed as music continued softly through the kitchen. Jaemin moved around cleaning while you cooked, occasionally brushing past each other in the small kitchen without either of you thinking much of it anymore. At one point he reached around you to grab paper towels from beside the stove. "Sorry." He murmured instinctively.
"You live here too." You reminded him with a smile.
"Still... manners."
You rolled your eyes affectionately.
"You know." He said suddenly while rinsing cups in the sink. "You actually did really good last night."
You glanced back at him over your shoulder. "At throwing up?"
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "No, at staying."
Something in his tone made your expression soften slightly. "You made it easier, though I wasn't there for long." You admitted, turning your attention back to the pancakes before he could notice how genuine you sounded.
But he did notice. You could feel it in the quiet smile he wore afterward. Instead of responding, he reached over and turned the music up slightly. A new song started playing through the speaker, upbeat enough that Jaemin immediately started dancing badly while carrying empty cups toward the trash.
You stared at him in disbelief. "...What are you doing?"
"Cleaning choreography." He answered confidently, spinning once terribly.
"That looked concerning."
"I have rhythm." He defended.
You smiled. "You almost fell into the counter."
"But I recovered." He replied with a grin.
You laughed harder than you meant to, shaking your head while pouring another pancake into the pan. A few minutes later the kitchen smelled like syrup and butter while sunlight spilled warmly across the countertops. You plated the pancakes before sliding a plate toward Jaemin.
He blinked at it in surprise. "You made me breakfast?" He asked, looking genuinely caught off guard.
"You helped me not die last night." You replied casually while sitting across from him. "I figured you earned pancakes."
A slow smile spread across his face as he picked up his fork. "You know... acts of service is actually my love language."
You pointed your fork toward him immediately. "Don't make this weird."
"I'm not making it weird." He laughed. "I'm appreciating you."
"You're dramatic." You said, laughing as well.
"And you still cooked for me."
You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile as you took a bite. For a few moments the two of you just sat there eating quietly while soft music filled the kitchen, it felt nice. Then Jaemin leaned back slightly in his chair, satisfaction written all over his face. "Well." He said proudly. "Opening night was officially successful."
You laughed softly. "I think forty people confirms that."
"Forty six." He corrected immediately.
You stared at him. "You seriously kept count?"
"I'm hosting." He replied simply with a shrug. "I have to know these things."
"You said that last night." You said.
"Because it's true. I'm a businessman." He said confidently before taking another bite of pancakes.
You chuckled quietly, shaking your head. Honestly though...he wasn't wrong. The party had been a success, and surprisingly enough, you hadn't hated it. Actually... You set your fork down slowly, looking up at him. "Can I ask you something?"
Jaemin immediately looked interested. "Depends." He said cautiously. "Am I about to lose money?"
You laughed. "Maybe." You leaned back slightly in your chair. "Can I help with the parties too?"
His brows lifted in surprise. "Help how?"
"Like...planning, setting up, hosting." You explained with a shrug. "If I live here anyway, I might as well contribute."
Jaemin studied your face for a second, clearly trying to figure out if you were serious. "You actually want to?" He asked carefully.
You nodded once. "Yeah, but I want half the money."
A grin spread across his face almost immediately. "Oh." He laughed softly, pointing at you. "That's what the pancakes are about. Now you're a businessman all of a sudden."
"Businesswoman." You corrected proudly.
He put his hands up. "My apologies." He leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. "Okay, you can absolutely help."
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. "There's a condition, isn't there?"
"There's always a condition." He replied smoothly.
You sighed dramatically. "What is it?"
He smiled innocently. "You have to go on a date with me."
Your brows furrowed almost instantly. "What?"
He shrugged. "Yep, my only condition."
You laughed. "Okay... sure, I guess?"
His face smile dropped immediately as he scratched behind his ear. "Oh... I was kidding. Thought you'd say no."
You laughed. "See now, I'm embarrassed. Businesswoman does what she has to do though."
He shook his head jokingly in disapproval. "Sleeping your way to the top, wow."
"You said a date, not sleeping together." You corrected him.
"Fair." He shrugged. "But I get to use your flat during parties too if needed." He said, though he knew he'd never invade your space like that.
Your brows lifted immediately. "For what exactly?"
"Extra space." He explained quickly, holding his hands up. "Nothing crazy. Just somewhere for people to hang out if upstairs gets too crowded."
You thought about it for a moment. Honestly...that made sense. "Fine." You agreed slowly. "And the date is canceled."
Jaemin grinned. "Whatever."
"But." You added quickly, pointing at him. "I get half control over the playlist."
His expression immediately dropped. "Oh no."
"Yes."
"No, absolutely not." He laughed, shaking his head. "You'll ruin the vibe."
"You played three Drake songs in a row last night, which was terrible by the way." You said straight faced. "You are not controlling music alone anymore."
Jaemin sighed dramatically, rubbing his face in fake frustration. "This partnership is already becoming difficult."
You smiled proudly. "So we have a deal?"
He looked at you for another second before finally holding his hand out across the table.
"Deal."
You shook his hand firmly.
By Monday afternoon, the house already felt different, more organized, more planned. Jaemin bought whiteboards for schedules, you started building playlists. Haechan contributed absolutely nothing except unnecessary opinions and unwarranted shots on weekdays that you both always declined. Haechan loudly advertised the party to anyone willing to listen. "Friday night!" Haechan shouted dramatically near the student center. "Be at the pool party or be painfully boring!"
"You make us sound like a cult." You muttered while taping another flyer onto a wall.
"We kind of are." Jaemin replied casually beside you.
You looked over at him. He looked happy, really happy. And standing there beside him, you realized this wasn't just his thing anymore, it was yours too.
There's a constant drip keeping you awake and stressing you out. You don't want to wake up Taeyong but it's nigh impossible to ignore.
Warnings;;
None! Just domestic fluff! Established relationship. A little anxiety/stress on Reader's part but Taeyongie is there to comfort <3 also my attempt at freestyle poetry at the end might need a warning lmfao
Prompt;;
'Drip Drop' from my 2025 July Prompts!
Notes;;
Happy Birthday to our lovely Taeyongie!
This one goes out to my worrywart of a sister. Stop stressing, my dude.
Bruhh, I was on my melodramatic hopeless romantic shhh when I wrote this one.
Main Masterlist || NCT Masterlist || Fluff Masterlist
There’s a leak in the walls, or the apartment above, or maybe it’s the kitchen sink. It’s hard to tell. You shouldn’t get up to check. You really shouldn’t. Who in their right mind leaves the perfectly comfy and warm embrace of their comforter in search of a phantom drip? There’s nothing you can do about it, anyway. You’re not a plumber. This is a problem for Maintenance.
But if it is the sink faucet and you can put yourself out of this misery, shouldn’t you? It’s not like you can sleep with this incessant drip drip thundering throughout the entire apartment. It’s practically shaking the walls of your mind, a miniature earthquake behind the lids of your eyes. Checking the sink will give you something to do, a way to pass a whole minute before you’re plunged back into the sleepless abyss.
You move to get up but you’re stopped when an arm wraps around your waist, grounding you. Strong. Protective. It can be none other than Taeyong. He’s lying beside you, bundled up in the bedding, asleep – at least you thought he was. Did you wake him, or is the drip torturing you both?
“What’s wrong?” he mumbles, still half-asleep.
“You don’t hear that?” You don’t bother with an inside voice. “The dripping. It won’t stop. Do you think there’s a leak?”
A knot twists in your gut at the thought alone. Bills. More and more bills. Always a new bill or a hidden fee, not to mention the stacked charges, and this apartment complex has a knack for finding sly ways to pin damages on you, make it your problem, drain your bank account for their incompetence. And now you’ll be paying for a hotel room while Maintenance takes their sweet time repairing the issue.
It’s stressful.
You’re stressed!
What if the place is waterlogged? What if the whole structure needs work? You could be in that hotel for months!
And then there’s the possibility of mold. That could make you both sick! That could kill someone! That could–
“There’s no leak,” he says and despite the tiredness in his voice, he sounds so sure.
It’s reassuring… but the worries linger all the same.
“They could be hurt.”
He pulls you closer, tighter, secures you against his chest. “Who?”
“The upstairs neighbours. They could have died in the bathtub so it’s going ‘drip drip drip’.”
“Hmm.” Taeyong nestles closer still, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“They’re morning shower people.”
“So? People can change.”
“Not overnight.”
“Is it really not bothering you?”
Your question hangs in the air for a moment before he shimmies his leg between both of yours and he slides his other arm underneath your side. With both of his arms wrapped around you, he pulls you into a deep embrace, practically squeezing your breath away. After a long moment he loosens his hold, but only enough for you to breathe without strain.
“I didn’t notice it until you mentioned it.”
“How? It’s driving me insane!” you huff, head sinking into the pillow as you welcome the sheer exhaustion threatening to wipe you out.
“I focus on something else.”
Holding back a quick retort and the scoff resting on the tip of your tongue, you try your damnedest to listen to anything else. There’s nothing as consistent as the drip. A dog barks in the distance, a cat yowls. The wind picks up into a howl only to lose her nerve and fall silent. Some kind of engine revs to life for a solid beat before it, too, putters and fades.
“There isn’t anything else,” you whine.
He chuckles into your hair. “Really? It’s my favourite soundtrack. You don’t hear it? It plays every night.”
“Stop teasing.” You yawn. At this rate you’ll black out but at least you’ll finally be asleep. “Just tell me – I’m losing my mind over here.”
Your eyes droop until they close and you’re on the edge of passing out when your entire world shakes with the thick plop of water hitting water. Anxiety wells in your gut. A puddle. If it’s the upstairs neighbour then that puddle will turn into a bubble and that bubble will burst into a torrential downpour all over your bathroom or kitchen or, Lord forbid, your bedroom! Somehow, someway, the water will roll above your head then pop! Your whole life you’ve built here with Taeyong, the memories and the mementos, the big step of moving in together, the future it laid out… gone. Submerged in an early, watery grave.
“Here,” he says as he places his hand over your heart. “Feel this.” You breathe deep. His hand warms your skin as your chest rises. You exhale and he follows, both with his hand and his own soft breathing. With your bodies pressed so close you can feel every inhalation. You fall into sync with him, exhaling as he does. “Now listen. Do you hear it?”
Try as you might, you can’t hear anything except…
His gentle breathing, serene and almost inaudible, a melody whispered mere inches from your ear.
And his heartbeat, slow and steady as it reverberates from his body to yours.
The song of intimate vulnerability shared between lovers.
“I hear it,” you murmur, afraid to speak too loud, to break the trance and fall victim to wandering thoughts.
“And you feel it?” he asks, his voice deep with oncoming sleep.
“I do.” But you’re unsure if you’re even speaking out loud anymore, losing yourself to the rhythmic drum of his heartbeat, to the evening of his breath as he falls into a peaceful slumber. One you’re soon to follow, your body relaxing as the worries cease and the thoughts slow to a trickle.
I feel it.
in the loneliest hours,
when consciousness slips endlessly,
he reaches for you,
his breath your guide.
your love for me.
in the loneliest hours,
when sleep tears lovers apart,
he holds onto you,
his love a lighthouse,
his heart your anchor.
-fin-
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small preview of my upcoming jaehyun fic, lmk if you would like to be tagged ♡
you glance down at his black boxers and hesitate, noting the bulge that seemed to strain against the spandex. you wondered what was beneath there. it must have to be different from your own private parts, surely.
“don’t be shy, pretend i am the alpha that you have chosen,” he whispers encouragingly.
i wish you were, you thought to yourself, though didn’t pursue the idea further. jaehyun was doing you an immense favor letting you practice with him like this, it would be wrong to take advantage of the favor.
you reach down and hook your nimble fingers onto the waistband of his garments, before tugging down. you are met with some resistance, the bulge seemingly unwilling to reveal itself. with one more hard pull, his appendage flings out from his confines and hits his hairy navel.
your eyes widen, reaching up to cover your mouth in shock, but stopping.
whatever you pictured when guessing what alphas hid beneath their garments, you could not have possibly conjured up an image such as this.
you wondered what it was a called. a stick, maybe? though sticks were too thin to match his girth. perhaps a staff, yes. jaehyun’s staff was large, thick, and had a faint dent where the tip rounded out. it was red and engorged with veins, leaking a creamy substance. further down were two balls, their weight making them hang.
you almost pitied him.
“m-my, alpha… you must be in a great deal of pain.”
jaehyun burst into a small fit of laugher, shaking his head as he slowly thumbed his base.
“quite the opposite. i am aroused.”
“aroused?”
“yes, i am throbbing with the need to be inside of an omega.”
your eyes somehow widen more.
“inside, you say?” you look up at him, thunderstrucked.
“yes, inside. you must allow me to now undress you, if you’d like to understand,” he said, before taking a step forward, and quieting, “though we can stop here if you wouldn’t like to continue.”
you think for a moment, before slowly nodding.
your voice comes out meek, “a-alright.”
jaehyun’s hands slowly reach out to unclasp your bralette, and he confides, “lovely, omega. i am honored that you trust me this much.”
you blush at his words and instinctively place a hand on your chest to keep your garment from falling, and jaehyun gently pulls it away, letting it slide off your arms and onto the ground.
he turns you around to stand behind you once more, hands resting on your shoulders.
“see, there is nothing to be ashamed of,” his voice is low, “look how beautiful you are.”
you let out a small whine and duck your chin. it makes jaehyun chuckle and grab your jaw, turning your head back.
“don’t,” it’s a growl more than his voice, but he quickly schools himself, “whoever your alpha is will be immensely lucky. i almost envy him.”
