#Rocky Rhythm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelsrose · 1 month ago

Text

Guns and Roses: Chapter 9

hey cuties, this chapter is actually so angsty I might die i love when you guys comment so pls keep it up and let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list !! i fricking love u guys !!

previous chapters

Before they left

Ellie was out with Leo, one of Jackson’s newer patrolmen—a quiet, steady-eyed guy with a calm that felt almost unnatural in a place like this. He’d proven himself useful enough: sharp aim, sure step.

It was her first real patrol without Joel’s shadow looming behind her, his watchful eye dissecting every sound, every flicker in the underbrush, ready to jump in if her instincts wavered. Joel had been more than hesitant to let her go, but Ellie knew how to work around his protectiveness, and he’d eventually relented, grumbling something about her proving she could handle herself.

The route they’d been given was standard—a western perimeter sweep, a routine check of gates, watchposts, and gaps in the fence line. Nothing more than a glance at empty fields, trees swaying in the distance, and the ghostly echoes of rustling animals.

But the clouds loomed low and dark, heavy as lead against the wide sky, threatening rain or worse. The cold bit into her bones, crisp enough to sting, and her breath lingered in clouds of mist before vanishing into the chill.

Leo walked a few steps ahead, his eyes sweeping the treeline with the cool efficiency of someone who didn’t mind the silence. Ellie glanced sideways at him, watching his shoulders rise and fall in a calm rhythm as if the place itself couldn’t touch him.

They’d just decided to turn back, the patrol as uneventful as they’d hoped, when Leo stopped dead in his tracks. Ellie followed his gaze and spotted it, too—a faint plume of smoke curling up behind a ridge in the distance, thin and gray against the dark sky. One look passed between them, and they both knew what it meant: someone was out there, just close enough to Jackson to make them uneasy.

Ellie’s heart hammered against her ribs, and suddenly, Joel’s voice rang through her mind, steady as his hand on her shoulder during a training session. “Never assume it’s friendly. People only hide for two reasons—fear or intent. And neither’s safe.”

She could almost hear him, his tone low, caution edging his words. “Look for cover first, approach quiet. Only move when you’re sure.” Her grip on her rifle tightened, knuckles whitening against the cold metal.

Leo gave her a nod, an unspoken you ready?

She drew a slow breath, reminding herself to stay calm. They moved closer, footsteps careful, every sound amplified in the stillness. All of Joel’s hard-learned lessons came flooding back as they advanced: stay low, eyes sharp, don’t let them see you before you see them.

Quietly, they moved toward the smoke, weapons drawn, each step calculated as they closed in on the campsite. Then they saw them—a small group of raiders, rough-looking men in mismatched gear, their rifles propped against logs, packs scattered around like they planned on staying awhile. The men hadn’t spotted Ellie and Leo yet, so they crept closer, taking cover behind a rocky outcrop, hearts pounding, breaths held.

But then, maybe it was just instinct—one of the raiders glanced up, his hand flying to his weapon. In an instant, chaos erupted. Gunfire shattered the quiet, loud and brutal in the cold air. Ellie’s heart thundered, adrenaline coursing through her as she ducked and returned fire.

One by one, the raiders went down, their shouts fading until only the hush of the forest remained, heavy and grim. The last raider, staggering back with blood staining his side, fell against a wall, his eyes wide, desperate.

Leo stepped forward, his weapon raised, ready to end it, but Ellie held up a hand, halting him. She had questions, a nagging instinct clawing at her gut, and something in the raider’s gaze—defiance mixed with fear—made her pause.

“Who are you?” Ellie’s voice cut through the silence, low and steady, her words edged with a threat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The raider sneered, blood staining his teeth, but his eyes held a glint, something wild and defiant. “We’re here for the girl,” he spat, his voice rasping with a strange, almost triumphant malice. “The cure.”

Ellie felt a chill flood her veins, as if the air had turned to ice.

Her grip on her gun tightened, fingers tense on the trigger as she stared at him.

The cure.

The words twisted in her mind, turning her thoughts into a chaotic storm. “What… what did you say?” she whispered, the strength in her voice slipping as the weight of his words sank in, a cold, sick feeling clawing at her stomach.

Her mind raced, questions hammering at her. Were they ordinary raiders? Fireflies? Or some new group who’d managed to pick up on her past, on the secret Joel had tried so hard to bury? And if they knew… how had they tracked her here, to Jackson, where she was supposed to be safe?

The raider’s smirk only deepened, his face pale but his eyes dark with some twisted satisfaction. “We know all about her,” he rasped, each word a knife. His gaze fixed on her, sharp and unyielding, like he could see right through her.

"You can kill me," the raider coughed, blood trickling down his chin, yet his eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction. "But more will come. And when we do… we’re gonna get her."

Ellie’s pulse thundered in her ears, each beat amplifying the sick, hollow dread spreading through her. His words slithered into her mind, each one striking with cold, ruthless certainty.

Someone knew. Someone out there knew what she was.

The one thing she’d worked so hard to bury, to escape, to live beyond—the secret Joel had kept at any cost—was slipping from her grip, no matter how tightly she’d held on. She’d come to Jackson to be just Ellie, to walk through the world as more than a body bound to a cure she’d never asked to carry. But now, in one brutal moment, that hope felt like dust, falling through her fingers.

Leo, sensing the shift in her demeanor and the tension etched across her face, stepped forward. He didn’t hesitate—a single, precise shot rang out, and the raider slumped against the ground, lifeless. Yet his words lingered, like a dark shadow cast over the silent campsite, a threat that felt too real to ignore.

Leo turned to her, brow furrowed in confusion, his voice low but edged with concern. “What the fuck was he talking about?”

Ellie forced herself to breathe, to steady the churning in her gut. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She met his gaze, holding it just long enough to seem certain, though the lie felt heavy on her tongue.

By the time she returned to Jackson, her face was drained of color. She didn’t say a word to Leo, only gave him a faint nod when he suggested reporting the encounter, and then she disappeared.

The moment she crossed the threshold into her house, she was already packing, her hands working in a blur, stuffing her few belongings into a bag with a mechanical urgency that left no room for second thoughts. She knew what Joel would say, knew he’d tell her the only thing they could do now was run, to disappear before anyone came looking.

As the hours slipped into night, the town settled into a quiet stillness, but Ellie was already outside, her breath curling in the cold air, her feet carrying her through Jackson’s empty streets as if pulled by some unseen force. She stopped at your door and knocked, each second stretching painfully until it finally opened. Joel stood there, his face etched with worry, his eyes bloodshot, but even before she could say a word, he took one look at her and knew something was wrong.

It was settled—they were leaving. The quiet agreement hung heavy between them, each of them knowing there was no turning back.

She watched as Joel turned, his gaze drifting to the staircase, lingering just a moment too long. Ellie couldn’t look at him, the weight of his sacrifice pressing against the raw guilt twisting inside her.

•••

A year had passed.

They traveled endlessly, never lingering too long in one place, drifting through desolate towns and hollowed-out shelters, each as empty as the last. Days blurred together, a relentless stretch of gray skies and quiet roads, of survival routines that left no room for anything but vigilance. They moved like ghosts through a world that had forgotten them, Ellie and Joel—two souls bound by an unspoken promise and a need to stay ahead of whoever might be searching.

But no matter how far they went, no matter the miles they put between themselves and Jackson, Joel’s mind was always somewhere else.

It was always with you.

Every morning when Joel woke, there was a brief, blissful moment—a fragile sliver of peace between dream and reality—where he could almost convince himself he was back with you. In those hazy seconds, his mind softened, his body at ease, and he felt the warmth of your bed, the quiet hum of dawn filtering through the curtains, his head nestled at the base of your neck, his arm wrapped around you like a promise he could hold onto.

He’d breathe in, and for that stolen instant, he’d catch the faintest trace of lavender. That scent lingered in his memory like a dream that refused to fade, one he clung to as he drifted between worlds. Lavender, soft and warm, always grounding him, always pulling him into the shape of you, filling every unspoken part of him with something he dared not name. He could feel you, the curve of your shoulder under his hand, the steady rise and fall of your breathing, the delicate intimacy that felt like home, a rare quiet he hadn’t even realized he could crave.

But then he’d open his eyes, and the cold reality of wherever they were would settle over him like a weight he’d never shake. The warmth, the closeness, the gentle pull of something almost real—it all slipped away, replaced by the hard ground, the empty air, the relentless ache that gnawed at him day after day.

Day and night, you lingered in his mind—a steady, silent ache, a presence that filled the hollow spaces inside him, ones he hadn’t even realized existed until you’d come along. Each day he wondered, turning it over and over in his mind, if things might have been different. If he hadn’t been so guarded, if he hadn’t kept you at arm’s length, would you have known how he truly felt? Would it have changed anything?

He imagined a thousand different versions of how he could’ve told you, how he could’ve let down those walls, let you see the side of him he’d buried under years of loss and regret. But in every version, he hesitated, haunted by the weight of everything he’d already lost, afraid to let himself believe in something good. And now, with you gone, he was filled with regret, a reminder of everything he hadn’t said, every moment he’d let slip through his fingers.

As they walked, he found himself wondering what you might be doing in Jackson, if you still waited by the window or traced the outline of the mountains with your eyes, hoping for some glimpse of him. And he wondered, in the deepest, most selfish parts of himself, if you missed him in the way that gnawed at him every hour, every mile. If you ached for him with the same relentless pull that made each morning harder, each night colder.

But then there was the worry that gnawed at the edges of his mind, the fear he kept buried deep but couldn’t quite silence. He’d never spoken the words, never dared cross the fragile line that had formed between you—a line made of glances that lingered too long, of touches that held meaning but never promises, of feelings he kept locked tight behind his ribs, too afraid to give them a name.

Yet he was selfish, and the thought of you with another man, of someone else in your bed, sharing that quiet warmth, feeling your touch—it was enough to turn his stomach, to make his mouth go dry with a bitterness he couldn’t swallow. He pictured it sometimes, in the dark hours of the night when he couldn’t stop his mind from spiraling, imagined some stranger’s hand on your shoulder, some other voice filling the silence he used to share with you.

He had no right to it, and he knew it, but it didn’t stop the ache, didn’t stop that cold, jealous twist that reminded him just how much he wanted you.

So he carried you with him, in every step, every breath, every heartbeat. You were woven into him, a memory that pulsed through his veins like a wound that refused to heal. He could feel you in the quiet moments when he let his guard down, in the spaces between one thought and the next, a whisper of what he’d left behind but could never fully abandon. It was a burden and a balm, a constant ache that kept him grounded and made each mile that much harder to bear.

And in the quiet, secret places of his heart, he let himself believe that maybe, someday, he’d find his way back to you. Just for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself that hope, that maybe after all the miles and all the weight he’d carried, he’d see you again. That he’d find his way back, and you’d still be there, waiting for him, just as he’d been waiting for you in his own, silent way all along.

•••

One year.

A whole year had passed since Joel and Ellie had vanished from your life. You’d marked the date on your calendar, a small, barely visible reminder—a private, somber anniversary that only you observed. The seasons had cycled relentlessly in their quiet march, warmth giving way to the chill of winter, spring bursting with life, and now autumn, painting the world in hues of burnished orange and fading gold. Each season had carried with it a different ache, a shifting loneliness that settled in like an old companion.

Now, as you watched the leaves fall, scattered and swirling in the crisp air, you felt the bittersweet ache of time moving forward without them. There was something unshakably hollow in the thought that the world could keep turning while Joel and Ellie remained nothing more than memories tucked away in your mind. You’d find yourself pausing on quiet evenings, thinking you’d catch a glimpse of Joel’s familiar figure down the road or hear Ellie’s laughter echoing from somewhere beyond the trees, only for the moment to pass.

In the midst of all this change, you and Caleb had slowly, almost unwittingly, drifted into each other’s lives. It started after that vulnerable night with Maria, when, over cups of tea and whispered confidences, she’d urged you to let yourself find happiness, to stop waiting on shadows of the past.

Soon after, you found yourself leaning into the steady comfort Caleb offered. There was an undeniable ease in his presence—a warmth that settled around you without demands or complications. Caleb’s laughter was open, a soft assurance that made you feel safe, grounded. He had a way of bringing lightness to the quietest moments, an ability to turn the mundane into something unexpectedly joyful. He filled spaces in your life that had felt empty for too long, his steady presence easing the ache you’d carried alone.

He treated you with a gentle kindness, never pressing, never prying, just being there in a way that was soothing and, somehow, exactly what you’d needed. His steady hand on your shoulder, the unspoken reassurance in his gaze—it all felt like a balm against the ache you’d carried since Joel and Ellie’s departure.

Caleb didn’t ask questions about your past, didn’t demand pieces of yourself you weren’t ready to give, but with every passing day, his presence filled parts of the void Joel had left behind, like warm light spilling into a room you’d thought would always remain shadowed.

Your first kiss had been awkward in the sweetest way—two people stumbling, laughing against each other’s mouths, teeth clashing before you pulled back, cheeks flushed, unable to hide your laughter. It was light and easy, no grand declarations or heavy promises, just a moment shared, a warmth that didn’t need to be anything more than what it was. And as the weeks passed, it became obvious to everyone in Jackson, to every friend who exchanged knowing glances, that Caleb was smitten, his eyes following you with a warmth that softened even the hardest of stares.

So, you let him.

You let him in, bit by bit, finding comfort in his steady affection, in the way he made you laugh without trying, in the simple joy he brought into your life. And though a part of you still held on to memories of what you’d lost, the way Caleb looked at you made it easier to feel present, to let yourself be loved, to lean into a kindness that, for now, was enough.

But, it had been a year, and still, you cursed yourself for the way Joel lingered in your mind, haunting the quietest parts of your day. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t slip into your thoughts daily, an uninvited presence that crept in as you drifted off to sleep, or while you were brushing down the horses in the stables, even as you stood under the hot spray of the shower, eyes closed, heart heavy. His memory was like a thread woven into the fabric of your life, one you couldn’t pull free no matter how much time passed.

You tried not to think about what a year could mean, how the world beyond Jackson had a way of swallowing people whole, never to return. Instead, you forced yourself to imagine him somewhere out there—alive, even if he was distant, existing in a place you couldn’t reach. You pictured him like a shadow moving across empty roads, his gaze sharp, his stance steady, a survivor who wouldn’t let anything bring him down. It was easier to hold onto that, to let yourself believe he was still walking through this world, even if it was a world without you.

And sometimes, despite all your efforts to bury it, you couldn’t help but think of how well Joel had known you. One day Caleb brought home tulips, bright and cheerful in their own way, yet somehow missing the mark. You smiled and thanked him, grateful for the thought, but in the quiet of your mind, you couldn’t ignore the tug of memory. It was roses that had always stirred something deeper within you, and Joel had known that. You’d managed to piece it together over time, a quiet revelation that settled into your bones with bittersweet clarity.

It had been him who left that bouquet in your house when your leg was injured. You’d mentioned how you’d have to thank Tommy and Maria for the gesture, assuming the flowers had come from them, oblivious to the truth. Joel had just shrugged, feigning indifference, a quiet smirk playing at his mouth as he mumbled some dismissive response, never letting on that it was his silent confession, his way of saying the things he couldn’t put into words.

Those roses had been more than a gesture—they were a message wrapped in velvet petals, a whisper of all that had gone unspoken between you. And though you tried to focus on the present, on Caleb’s tulips and his warmth and his laughter, you couldn’t help but feel that those roses, left in the quiet space of your home, had planted themselves in your heart. A love that had never been spoken aloud yet lingered in every memory, every thought you forced yourself to tuck away.

Roses—his unspoken promise, his way of telling you he saw you, of saying all the things that a man like Joel couldn’t put into words.

•••

It was another evening spent around Tommy and Maria’s table, the familiar warmth and chatter weaving through the room like an old, comforting song. Laughter mingled with the clinking of plates, stories flowing easily as everyone settled into the simple joy of being together, of holding onto the small things that made life feel whole. The baby slept soundly in the next room, a soft, steady reminder of life’s resilience, of how beauty and heartbreak could coexist in the same breath.

But as the night wore on, your eyes drifted, almost unwillingly, to the empty seat at your side, the one that had remained untouched for so long. You could almost see him there, a shadow in the space beside you, a ghost haunting every dinner. In your mind, he was sitting right there, his familiar silhouette leaning back, arms crossed, quietly listening, his face softened just slightly in that rare way it only ever did when he felt at ease. You could picture him stealing a glance your way, the warmth in his gaze flickering just briefly before he looked down, his hand reaching out to adjust his glass.

As the evening unfolded, you couldn’t help but notice Caleb—quieter than usual, a strange tension in his posture, his leg shaking beneath the table in a steady, anxious rhythm. His gaze flickered over to you now and then, his eyes carrying something unreadable, something heavy. And when the meal was finally done, he rose abruptly, the scrape of wood against the floor slicing through the laughter and easy conversation like a sudden, cold draft.

Maria paused, tilting her head in concern. “Can I get you something Caleb?” she asked gently, her voice soft but curious, but he shook his head.

You looked up, confusion mingling with a growing unease as you caught the glint of something intense in his eyes. “Caleb?” you murmured, searching his face, trying to understand what he was about to say.

He took a shaky breath, his gaze softening as he spoke your name, and for a moment, it felt as if everything else faded into the background, the room narrowing until it was just the two of you. “I… I’ve thought a lot about us,” he began, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of nerves.

“When I came to Jackson, and I saw you for the first time… I knew I wanted you in my life. I know it sounds cheesy, but I never thought I’d find love again—not after the world fell apart.” He swallowed, his fingers fidgeting as he spoke, his words raw and unguarded. “Then I found you. And I can’t picture my life without you.”

Your heart stilled as his hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, worn tin. He opened it carefully, and inside, nestled in a bit of cloth, was a ring, the metal shaped into a delicate band, with a small, carefully polished piece of amber set in the center. It glowed warm and honeyed in the candlelight, a humble but beautiful thing.

He held it out to you, his hand trembling slightly. “Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, thick with hope and a quiet, desperate longing.

For a moment, everything else disappeared—the warmth of the room, the low murmur of voices drifting in the background—all of it faded as the weight of Caleb's words settled over you. A whirlwind of emotions stirred inside you, a rush of unexpected joy tangled up with the familiar ache you’d tried so hard to bury, the one that had never truly left.

“Caleb, I—” you began, your voice faltering, but he held your gaze, his eyes bright, unwavering, filled with a quiet, earnest hope. He was waiting, trusting, laying his heart bare before you. You forced yourself not to think too much, not to let his face enter your mind—though it already had, a ghost lingering just on the edge of this moment.

But you didn’t let it take hold.

You swallowed, steadying yourself, and finally, you found your voice. “Yes,” you whispered, though your voice trembled, betraying the tumult of feeling beneath. “Yes, I will.”

Caleb’s face lit up, his relief and happiness radiating as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his fingers warm and steady against your trembling hand. You could feel the weight of it—the promise, the choice.

The room erupted in cheers, laughter ringing out as Tommy and Maria pulled you into warm, heartfelt hugs. Their joy filled the space, wrapping around you like a blanket, and for a moment, you let yourself be swept up in it, feeling the weight of Caleb’s ring on your finger, his grateful smile lighting up his face as he looked at you with a love so simple and genuine.

But even as you smiled, a quiet wave of guilt coiled around your heart, tugging painfully, reminding you of a truth you couldn’t ignore. Joel lingered there, tucked away in some hidden corner of yourself, an ache that had never fully healed.

And though you’d tried to close that chapter, to bury it beneath the promises you were making now, you couldn’t shake the thought that somewhere, in another life, he might have been here beside you instead.

•••

You and Maria strolled arm in arm, giggling like teenagers, caught up in the novelty of planning a wedding in a world where ceremonies were rare luxuries. With every step, you swapped whispered ideas for practical dresses, scavenged fabric, maybe even wildflowers if they could be found.

Maria’s excitement was infectious; she insisted on small touches of beauty—a bit of lace here, a hint of color there, things you hadn’t dared to dream of in years. Together, you imagined a simple gathering, something that honored love in a place so often touched by loss.

But then, as you rounded a corner, a shift in the air pulled you back to reality. Low voices sounded behind you, muted but tense, carrying a seriousness that was hard to ignore. You exchanged a glance with Maria, laughter fading as a sense of unease settled over you both.

Your heart stopped, every sound around you fading as the murmured words reached your ears. “It’s Tommy’s brother… and that girl—” The phrase lingered in the air, as if the very walls had held their breath.

A surge of disbelief flooded through you, followed by a fierce, aching hope that felt like a wound you’d thought had healed. It was a hope so intense that it was almost painful, something you’d buried deep but never truly let go.

Without even realizing it, you’d already begun pushing through the crowd, instincts driving you forward before your mind could catch up. Your pulse pounded in your ears, every nerve on edge as you moved, your eyes darting from face to face, each stranger a fleeting blur in your periphery. You were searching, each step laced with a desperation you hadn’t let yourself feel in so long.

And then, there they were.

Emerging through the gates, framed in the amber glow of the setting sun, was Joel—a figure you’d thought you might never see again, a presence so achingly familiar it felt like a punch to the chest. The world seemed to go silent, your surroundings blurring as if everything was pulling away, leaving only him standing there.

He looked older, and the sight of him—aged, worn, burdened—stirred a profound yearning within you, a visceral ache that ran so deep it stole the breath from your lungs. Every line on his face, every crease around his eyes, told a story of battles fought and sacrifices endured in brutal silence. His shoulders bore the weight of countless miles, each hardship etched into the way he held himself, his posture heavy with the ghosts he'd carried through a world you could scarcely imagine.

The year had sculpted him into someone both familiar and foreign, a man shaped by time and trials you weren't there to witness. Yet, despite the distance that life had carved between you, the pull you felt was undeniable—a magnetic longing that transcended the unspoken words and lost moments. You yearned to bridge the gap, to reach out and trace the map of his experiences etched upon his skin, to understand the depths of the sorrows and joys that had defined his journey.

The mere presence of him ignited something dormant within you, a longing that was both painful and exquisite. It was as if every unshed tear, every unspoken confession, every suppressed desire swelled up, pressing against the barriers you'd so carefully constructed. In that moment, all you wanted was to close the space between you, to let the unfulfilled promises and lingering glances find their resolution. The weight of what was left unsaid hung heavily in the air, and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too—the aching, relentless yearning that time had only intensified.

Your heart raced, a fierce, desperate rhythm that echoed through you like a thunderclap, raw and unforgiving. Every wall you’d built, every attempt you’d made to move forward, to accept his absence, came crashing down in a wave of overwhelming emotion. Anger, relief, hurt, and a longing so powerful it almost brought you to your knees—all of it rose up at once, tearing through the numbness you’d wrapped yourself in over the past year.

You wanted to run to him, to touch him, to let your fingers trace every line that time and hardship had carved into his face. You wanted to scream, to release the anger and hurt that his absence had left festering inside you. The agony of it was still fresh, wounds barely scabbed over that now bled anew, raw and relentless as every buried feeling clawed its way back to the surface. But even as you stood there, helpless, held captive by a tide of emotions you couldn’t contain, a familiar thought hit you, one that stopped you in your tracks, grounding you in a different kind of pain.

Did you even have the right?

The question echoed through you, sharp and unforgiving. Did what you and Joel shared before he left amount to anything real, anything that could survive the void he’d left in his wake? Had it been enough to claim him as yours in some silent, unspoken way? Or was it just a fragile thread spun from stolen glances, from touches that had lingered just a bit too long, from words unsaid but felt in the quiet spaces between breaths?

Beside him, Ellie moved with that fierce, unbreakable spirit that had always burned so brightly in her—a spark that even time and distance couldn’t diminish. Her steps were sure, carrying a quiet defiance, as if she’d faced down every dark corner the world had to offer and come out stronger, sharper. She looked older, too, her once-youthful face etched with an intensity that felt both familiar and heartbreakingly new. She was no longer the girl you’d last seen but something more—a survivor who’d fought her way through shadows you couldn’t imagine.

Around you, the murmurs grew, swelling into a chorus of shock and amazement, voices rising and falling like a tidal wave as people turned, faces lighting up with a mix of disbelief and awe. The name "Joel" rippled through the crowd, a whispered current that surged closer with each moment, brushing against your ears, making it all feel even more real and yet somehow impossible.

You saw him glance across the sea of faces, his gaze moving with an intensity you hadn’t seen in so long. He searched with a quiet urgency, his eyes scanning the crowd as if he were looking for something—no, someone. The weight of his gaze, though it hadn’t landed on you yet, felt heavy, filling the air between you with a tension that made your heart pound.

Maria’s hand found your arm, her face etched with concern as she studied you. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft yet laced with worry. You wanted to answer, to reassure her, but the words caught in your throat. The world began to tilt, the sounds around you muffling as the rush of emotions—the disbelief, the hurt, the longing, all of it—swelled to a breaking point.

The vibrant colors of Jackson smeared into indistinct shapes, the cheerful sounds of the market melting into a distant, muffled hum. Everything around you seemed to tilt, slipping just out of reach as the flood of emotions—hope, shock, grief—crashed into each other, leaving you helpless against the surge. Before you could fully process it all, a wave of dizziness swept over you, an overwhelming rush of sensation that left you weightless and unanchored, as if reality itself were slipping through your fingers.

The thrill and desperate joy of seeing them faded into the background, replaced by a strange, numbing sense of disorientation that tugged you down, pulling you to the very edge of consciousness. You tried to focus, to hold onto the image of Joel standing there, of the life you’d imagined fading away, replaced by something unbearably real and raw. But the world around you grew dim, shadows pressing in from all sides, and the last thing you remembered was that one, undeniable thought echoing in the darkness

Joel was back.

•••

You stirred from the depths of unconsciousness, the sound of hushed voices reaching your ears like distant whispers. The air around you was warm, wrapping you in a cozy cocoon that felt both familiar and comforting. As your senses began to awaken, you registered the faint scent of woodsmoke mingling with something sweet—perhaps the remnants of a candle or a lingering trace of cinnamon from the kitchen.

Gradually, you opened your eyes, blinking against the soft glow of the room. It was a space you knew well, filled with the warmth of home—the walls adorned with handmade decorations, the soft rustle of fabric as a breeze slipped through a nearby window. The gentle crackle of the fire in the hearth provided a soothing backdrop, wrapping you in a sense of safety that felt almost tangible.

As your vision cleared, you became aware of a figure hovering nearby, blurred shapes gradually sharpening into a familiar face. Maria’s worried expression softened into relief the moment your eyes met hers.

You tried to speak, your voice thin and cracked, barely managing a whisper. “What… what happened?”

“Easy,” Maria soothed, her fingers tenderly brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, grounding you with a motherly gentleness. “You fainted when you saw them,” she explained, her tone soft, reassuring. “Just breathe, okay? You’re safe.”

“Where is he?” you blurted, unable to keep the desperation from spilling into your voice, every reined-in emotion surging to the surface. Relief, disbelief, bitterness—they all tangled within you, clawing their way up as panic brushed at the edges of your mind.

For so long, you had carried the weight of not knowing, the unanswered grief that lingered like an ache in your chest, the painful acceptance that he might be gone forever. And now he was here—somewhere in this town—yet it felt too fragile, like a dream that could vanish the moment you dared to reach for it.

Maria’s hand squeezed yours, her gaze steady and full of understanding. “He’s with Tommy right now,” she replied, her voice soft, gentle, as if trying to protect you from the storm that raged inside. Her words were grounding, and yet they ignited a twist of dread and longing deep in your stomach, a wave of emotions that left you feeling raw and exposed.

You weren’t sure you were ready. Facing him meant confronting everything you’d buried beneath layers of resilience and sorrow, everything you’d told yourself you had to let go of for your own sake. Joel had left without a single word, slipping away into the night as if you’d been nothing more than a passing moment. His absence had carved a hollow in you that you’d struggled to fill, a wound that had scarred over but never truly healed. And now, standing on the brink of seeing him again, you felt that scar ache with a fresh, raw pain.

Yet even with the bitterness of abandonment coiled in your heart, there was an undeniable pull—a fierce, undeniable urge to see him, to look into his eyes and find answers to the questions that had haunted you every day he’d been gone.

“Why did he leave?” you whispered, the question slipping out before you could stop it, more a plea to the silence than anything else. It was as if the past year’s worth of pain—the hollow ache of missing him, the endless stretch of days that had only deepened the wound of his absence—had coiled into those words, raw and unfiltered.

Maria’s gaze softened, her hand resting gently on your arm, steadying you as the storm of emotions churned just beneath the surface. Her expression held an empathy that felt both comforting and heartbreaking, as if she knew too well what it was to bear the weight of unspoken loss. “I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice gentle, almost apologetic. “But he’s back now, and I’m sure he’ll explain everything.”

“Baby?” You looked up, a flicker of hope sparking in your chest before reality settled in, the fragile possibility slipping through your fingers. It wasn’t Joel. Caleb stood before you, his face etched with worry, his gaze searching your expression for answers he hadn’t dared to ask yet.

A pang of guilt followed, sharp and immediate, reminding you of the unspoken longing that still tugged at your heart. It wasn’t fair to Caleb, this man who had been there, filling the hollow spaces left behind by someone who’d vanished without so much as a goodbye.

He was the one who’d stood beside you in Joel’s absence, bringing light into the dark days, a patient comfort you’d learned to lean on. And yet, the yearning for Joel, the ache you’d buried so deeply, had flared to life the instant you heard his name whispered in the crowd.

Caleb’s eyes softened, a gentle understanding there that only deepened the ache within you. He reached out, brushing his hand over yours, grounding you even as you felt yourself drifting in a sea of old memories and unresolved feelings.

“I heard you fainted. Are you okay?” Caleb’s voice was gentle, laced with a worry that made guilt tighten in your chest.

“Yeah, I just… didn’t eat breakfast,” you replied, the lie slipping out with a forced casualness that felt thin and hollow. You flashed a quick, pointed look at Maria, silently begging her to keep quiet. She met your gaze, her expression a mixture of sympathy and unspoken curiosity, questions lingering in her eyes that she respectfully held back.

You hadn’t told Caleb about Joel, hadn’t shared that part of yourself that felt both vital and broken, a chapter that still haunted the edges of every moment you’d tried to start anew. It was easier, you’d told yourself, to let that part of your life remain in shadow, a memory locked safely away. Yet, with Joel here, with him breathing the same air once again, that shadow stretched over everything, blurring the lines between what had been and what was supposed to be.

It felt irrelevant, a relic of the past that had no place in the life you were building now. Joel had left, after all, and there hadn’t been anything definitive between you—no confessions, no kisses, nothing that should linger.

But deep down, you knew it wasn’t that simple.

What you had with Joel was tangled and complex, layered with unspoken emotions that ran deeper than words or actions. It terrified you even now, the way he’d left an imprint you couldn’t erase. No matter how much you cared for Caleb, a part of you had never felt with him what you’d felt with Joel, and the guilt of that truth weighed heavy, a quiet ache you carried in silence.

“Scared the shit out of me,” Caleb joked, his voice soft but attempting to lift the heavy air that hung between you.

You managed a weak smile, grateful for the warmth he always offered so freely. “I’m okay now, I promise. You can head back to the clinic,” you said, trying to inject some lightness into your tone.

“Are you sure?” His brow furrowed, genuine concern reflecting in his eyes. That look—his love and care laid bare—made it nearly impossible to meet his gaze without feeling the familiar sting of guilt.

“Yes, I’m positive,” you insisted, a little too quickly, each word tinged with the quiet desperation to end this moment before it unraveled the fragile balance you’d built.

He studied you for a second longer, then finally relented, his lips curving into a playful grin that softened his expression. “Alright. See you tonight, my fiancée.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle squeeze into your shoulder, a touch that felt both reassuring and painfully kind, then turned to leave.

As Caleb’s footsteps faded, you pressed your hands to your face, hoping the gesture would somehow steady the turmoil raging within you. You barely registered the murmur of voices nearby, Maria’s urgent whisper as she seemed to be shooing someone away, trying to protect your fragile state. But it was all background noise, swallowed by the storm of memories and emotions battling within you.

And then, slicing through the haze like a knife, came a voice—low, rough, and achingly familiar. “Fiancée?”

Your breath caught, hands falling from your face as the weight of that single word hit you. You looked up, your heart pounding, and there he was, standing just a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made everything else vanish.

Your throat tightened, and every carefully rehearsed word you’d prepared over the past year unraveled, slipping through your grasp. His eyes met yours, his expression a guarded storm—intense yet impossible to read. His gaze dropped to the ring on your finger, lingering there for a heartbeat, before rising back to your face, a silent question hanging between you, heavy and unspoken.

Here he was, standing before you, so close and real it left you lightheaded. His hair was longer, the hard lines carved deeper into his face, yet he was unmistakably Joel. His scent filled the room, wrapping around you and making the air feel thick and close.

Part of you wanted to run up and hug him, while another part urged you to stay rooted where you stood. You didn’t know if you should feel anger, relief, or surrender to the familiar longing that had shadowed you since the day he left. All you knew was that he was here, right in front of you, and every boundary you’d built to protect yourself shattered in an instant, leaving you exposed and uncertain.

You met his gaze, and in his eyes, you saw a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name—a silent plea, an apology, a yearning that mirrored your own. For a single, fragile second, it felt as if the world had shifted, bringing you both back to a place you’d thought was lost forever.

And yet the weight of everything unsaid lay between you, heavy and unmoving, a reminder that time, no matter how forgiving, could never erase the pain of his leaving.

“Joel…” The word barely slipped from your lips, thick with disbelief, tangled in the torrent of emotions you’d fought so hard to bury. A raw ache pulsed in your chest, a visceral longing to close the distance. Every part of you yearned to reach out, to feel his warmth again, to let your guard down just this once.

But as quickly as that longing surfaced, a fierce anger ignited, burning through the tenderness with brutal precision. He had left—walked away without a word, without a promise, leaving you to stitch yourself back together alone.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his gaze roaming over you slowly, lingering, as if he were trying to absorb every change, every detail he’d missed.

His eyes caught on the subtle things—the way your hair was now cut shorter, brushing your shoulders, framing your face in a way that seemed softer.

His gaze paused on the small scar near your temple, the faint line you’d earned after slipping on patrol one rainy night.

“Legs all healed,” he said quietly, his voice low, softened with a hint of something unspoken.

A surge of anger rose, fierce and unforgiving.

This was what he had to say? After all this time, after disappearing without a trace, without a single word to explain, to soften the blow of his absence?

Your fists clenched at your sides, nails biting into your palms as you fought to keep your frustration contained. It was almost infuriatingly, achingly Joel: reserved, withholding, as if the simplest words could somehow disguise the gravity of everything he’d left unsaid.

“I thought you were dead.” The words tore from you, your breath hitching as the weight of your own admission hit like a fresh wound.

You wanted to lash out, to demand answers, to make him feel just an ounce of the hurt he’d left behind. But at the same time, the sight of him—alive, here—brought a treacherous swell of relief, one that you knew could shatter you just as easily.

You could feel his presence hesitate, the weight of his guilt hanging thick in the silence between you. He shifted, his voice low and tentative as he took a small, cautious step closer. “I can explain everything,” he murmured, his tone cracking just enough to reveal the vulnerability beneath. “I had to leave—Ellie—”

But his words only fueled the fire raging within you, the weight of his explanation feeling hollow after everything you’d endured in his absence. Tears pricked at your eyes, blurring your vision as the anger finally boiled over, raw and unrestrained, pushing past the walls you’d tried to keep in place.

It was all just too much. You felt your breathing quicken, your chest tight as the words forced their way out. “I don’t want to talk to you, Joel,” you choked, each syllable thick, laced with a raw pain you could barely contain.

You turned away, jaw clenched, every muscle taut as you struggled to keep yourself together, to keep the emotions from spilling out too easily, too freely. You told yourself to let him explain, to give him the chance to say whatever it was he’d come here to say. But you physically couldn’t—not right now, not with the weight of all those unsaid things pressing against the walls you’d worked so hard to build.

He flinched, the weight of your words crashing into him, and for a long, agonizing moment, silence filled the space between you, thick with the unspoken pain that had festered over the months apart. Your back was to him, so you couldn’t see the turmoil in his eyes, couldn’t witness the guilt that etched deep lines into his face, the regret that clouded his expression, or the flicker of shame that he couldn’t quite hide. But you felt it—the heaviness of his unspoken apologies, the remorse that seeped into the air like a confession he couldn’t bring himself to voice.

Behind you, he took a shaky breath,a sound barely audible yet brimming with everything he didn’t know how to say. He wanted to reach out, to touch your shoulder, to bridge the gulf of silence and tell you that he understood, that he was sorry, that leaving you had been the hardest choice of his life.

He murmured your name, soft and tentative, the sound of it almost cracking under the weight of everything left unsaid. “I need you to hear me out. Please. ” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and pleading, as though this was his last chance to set things right, and he knew how fragile that chance was.

“Joel!” you snapped, turning back to face him, the force of your voice cutting through the thick silence, slicing through whatever words he might’ve tried to offer. You weren’t going to let him lead this moment, not after he’d surrendered that right the day he walked away. “You don’t get to dictate how this conversation goes,” you bit out, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “You don’t get to come back here and act like everything’s fine, like you can just pick up and pretend nothing happened.”

Maria appeared in the doorway, her gaze flicking between you and Joel, taking in the elevated voices, the tension that thickened the air. She moved closer, a silent, steadying presence.

“Joel,” Maria said softly, her voice firm but compassionate as she placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back. “I think you should leave. Give her some space.”

Joel looked at her, the protest clear in his eyes, but he didn’t argue. His gaze lingered on you, his face etched with the kind of regret that could never undo the damage he’d done, and he nodded, stepping back. He didn’t say another word, only cast one last, longing look your way before turning, disappearing through the doorway.

As soon as he was gone, the floodgates opened. The sobs you’d been holding back broke free, and Maria wrapped her arms around you, her touch a balm against the wound Joel had torn open once again.

You let yourself collapse into her embrace, the weight of everything spilling out as you grieved for the love you’d lost and the anger that refused to let it go.

•••

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide the truth from Caleb. The subtle shifts in your mood, the faraway look that would creep into your eyes at the quietest moments—he noticed. The way you’d pull back when he reached for your hand, or how your laughter came slower, more forced, like it was an effort to keep up appearances. Sometimes, he’d catch you staring off into the distance, your mind clearly somewhere else, your expression unreadable.

You didn’t mean for the walls to build up between you, but every time he leaned in for a kiss, you’d turn your head just slightly, offering a cheek instead. Or when he’d wrap his arms around you, the warmth and comfort that once came so easily now felt hollow, as if you were slipping further away even when he held you close.

Concern etched itself across his features more often now, his brow furrowing as he studied you, trying to understand the weight that seemed to press down on you—a weight you couldn’t bring yourself to explain.

The life you’d begun to build with Caleb now felt tenuous, fragile, as memories of Joel wove themselves into the fabric of your days, filling the quiet spaces with a longing you could no longer ignore.

You felt yourself pulled in two directions, torn between the safe, predictable future you were crafting with Caleb and the inescapable, stormy memories of Joel. You knew it wasn’t fair to Caleb, this man who loved you openly, steadily. Yet the truth gnawed at you relentlessly, clawing at your heart with a ferocity you couldn’t suppress.

The thought of you had been his only constant, his lifeline through a year of darkness. It was your memory that kept him moving, kept him alive, though he’d never allowed himself to hope too much. Yet even so, he’d held onto some small, foolish belief that he might return to find you there, still his, still waiting.

But that belief was shattered the moment he heard the word “fiancée.” The word lodged in his chest like broken glass, tearing through every fragile hope he’d harbored in his solitude. He’d left you—what had he expected?

That you’d wait, frozen in time, clinging to a ghost, while he wandered through the ruins of his own making? Deep down, he knew he had no right to feel this way. But no amount of rationalizing could quell the wave of longing and regret that washed over him, drowning him in sorrow he’d been too proud to admit he still felt.

In his mind, he’d pictured a different reunion. He’d imagined you opening the door, seeing him there, and in one wordless moment, all the anger and confusion would dissolve, replaced by the warmth he remembered so vividly.

He’d let himself believe that, somehow, you’d forgive him. That the last year could be wiped away like a bad dream, that he could slide back into the life he’d left, as if time had paused just for him. But now, standing in the shadows of a life you’d moved on from, he felt the weight of reality crashing over him, sharp and merciless. The thought of you pledging yourself to someone else, to a man who wasn’t him—it twisted in his gut like a blade, a slow, painful reminder of all he had lost.

He could see it too vividly: you at the altar, radiant and sure, your hand in Caleb’s as you vowed to build a future together, while he remained a ghost, lingering at the edges of a life he’d once held close. Every breath felt heavy, each step like trudging through quicksand, weighed down by what could have been, what should have been if he’d only stayed.

Now, faced with the reality of you in someone else’s arms, he saw the truth for what it was—a cruel twist of fate, a cosmic joke played at his expense, showing him just how deeply he’d betrayed his own heart.

•••

Your stomach churned as you stepped into the warm glow of the dining room, each step weighted with the knowledge that Joel and Ellie would be there. The familiar comfort of Maria and Tommy’s home, usually so cozy and inviting, felt stifling now, any sense of ease dissolving the instant your eyes fell upon them, already seated at the table. Joel’s presence struck you like a blow, a visceral ache twisting inside before you could even take a steadying breath.

Maria caught your eye, a silent apology flickering in her gaze, her face soft with sympathy. She knew—perhaps better than anyone—just how deep the turmoil ran, and that quiet understanding both soothed and sharpened the ache within you. You mustered a tight, brittle smile, hoping it would be enough to mask the vulnerability clawing at the surface, the storm of anger and longing that you couldn’t seem to keep buried.

Caleb, blissfully unaware of the tension thickening the air, greeted Joel with an easy, wide smile, reaching out his hand in a friendly gesture. “Good to finally meet you, man! Heard lots of good things from the lesser Miller,” he joked, his voice warm, light, as if this were any ordinary dinner.

But Joel didn’t mirror the warmth. His handshake was brief, his expression unreadable, a careful mask that betrayed none of the raw intensity in his eyes. His gaze lingered on Caleb, sharp and assessing, a look so intense it felt as if he were trying to unearth every layer of the man in a single glance. It was a look that could have cut through steel, and though Caleb remained blissfully oblivious, his attention already drifting back to the table, you didn’t miss the way Joel’s gaze flickered—piercing, as if marking territory only he hadn’t been there to guard.

The unspoken animosity lingered, thickening the air, a silent reminder of everything left unresolved. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, even after he’d broken the handshake, a silent, smoldering intensity that both drew and repelled you. It was a weight, an ache that you couldn’t ignore, and as the meal began, you steeled yourself, forcing a polite smile, hoping it would hold against the flood of emotions Joel had stirred just by being there.

Throughout the evening, you found yourself slipping into a quiet detachment, shielding yourself behind a protective shell as Caleb animatedly shared stories with the group. His hand rested on yours, his grip warm and reassuring, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture that was supposed to comfort.

Every so often, he’d lean over to press a kiss to your temple, his easy affection filling the room with a softness you wished you could fully appreciate. But each touch felt like a reminder of something missing, a bittersweet ache for what once was—or perhaps what had never fully been.

From across the table, you felt Joel’s eyes on you, each glance he stole heavy with unspoken words, charged with a silent intensity he couldn’t quite hide. His gaze flickered to his glass, lingering just a second too long, but you caught the way his attention drifted to your hand, to the engagement ring resting on your finger.

A shadow crossed his face—a sadness, a yearning that seemed to seep into the air between you, carrying the weight of everything left unsaid. It was as though he was reaching out without words, trying to bridge a chasm he’d created.

And despite all of it - Joel looked good—better than you remembered, in a way that stirred something raw and unguarded within you, a heat only he seemed capable of igniting. The year had added a ruggedness to him, etched resilience into his already broad shoulders and forearms, the faint lines of muscle visible beneath the rolled sleeves of his well-worn shirt.

His hands, calloused and rough, rested on the table, hands that had once held you in the dead of night. Somehow, seeing them now felt as if they still did, as if the memory of his touch lingered just beneath the surface of your skin.

His hair was longer too, tousled and curling at the nape in a way that softened his ruggedness just enough to make him almost unbearably alluring. And then there were his eyes—dark, deep, brimming with that familiar, knowing intensity that you could feel across the table like a physical touch.

Each time his gaze met yours, it lingered a beat too long, his stare unfaltering, as though the room around you didn’t exist, as if every glance held an unspoken promise, a shared secret only the two of you could ever understand.

He held his glass of whiskey with a languid ease, his fingers tracing along the rim in a slow, almost teasing motion, his mouth brushing the edge with a deliberateness that felt like it was meant only for you.

Every time he took a sip, his lips—soft, pink, plump —lingered against the glass before he would flick his gaze to you, as if challenging you to look away. And when he licked them after each bite, a small, casual motion, it stirred thoughts you’d fought so hard to bury.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said there hadn’t been nights when you lay in bed, wide awake, caught in the silence, thinking of him, of the things those mouth and fingers could do to you.

You couldn’t stop stealing glances, couldn’t stop the way your eyes kept drifting back to him despite yourself, even though each look sent warmth rising to your cheeks, your pulse racing.

And he’d noticed.

The faint, knowing smirk that played on his lips told you he’d caught you watching, that he was well aware of the effect he had on you, as if he could feel the quiet tension simmering beneath the polite hum of conversation.

Embarrassed, you forced yourself to look away, clutching onto your resolve with both hands, trying to anchor yourself in the life you’d chosen, the path you’d carefully laid out.

For the rest of the evening, you avoided his gaze, eyes trained on your plate, your smile tight as you nodded and laughed at the appropriate moments, barely hearing a word that was spoken. The laughter of others became a distant hum, a background noise to the storm churning beneath your surface as you fought to keep the memories and feelings from flooding over.

You cursed yourself for letting these thoughts creep in.

You were engaged to Caleb, a man who represented everything you’d promised yourself you wanted—a life that was steady, loving, free of ghosts and the painful pull of the past. And yet, here you were, Joel’s presence tugging at you with a force that defied all logic, a gravity you couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how hard you tried to bury it.

Caleb’s laughter echoed through the room, pulling you from the trance Joel’s presence had cast over you. He was in the middle of an animated story, his voice bright and infectious as he spoke, his hands moving to emphasize each detail.

“And there was this one time—remember the flock of birds that came out of nowhere? She was so slow, I thought she was going to trip over her own feet!” he laughed, looking to you with a playful grin.

A laugh slipped from your lips, genuine and unexpected, the memory of that chaotic day flashing back. You shook your head, letting yourself be swept up in the moment. “I swear, I was running as fast as I could! You make it sound like I was moving in slow motion,” you protested, grinning despite yourself.

Ellie, mid-bite of mashed potatoes, grinned as she interjected, “Oh, come on, that’s not fair! She had a broken leg for a while—cut her some slack!”

Caleb’s laughter faltered, his eyebrows shooting up in genuine surprise as he turned to you, half-amused, half-bewildered. “Wait—hold on. You had a broken leg? And I’m just hearing about this now?” His question was light, casual, but as it lingered in the air, it seemed to grow heavier, drawing a line between the life you’d led before and the one you’d built with him.

You forced a smile, shrugging with as much casualness as you could muster. “It wasn’t a big deal—just one of those things,” you said, hoping to glide over the subject, to keep it light and insignificant. But as your gaze drifted across the table, your heart sank. Joel’s expression had shifted; his posture was alert, his eyebrow lifting with that unmistakable, almost mocking look that said, I guess you haven’t told him everything.

The intensity in his gaze was nearly unbearable, piercing through the room, slicing through the thin layer of calm you’d tried to maintain. His eyes held an unspoken accusation, a reminder of the quiet, unbreakable bond that had once connected you, of the parts of yourself that you’d buried—the memories and scars that only he knew. His stare didn’t relent, as though he was silently demanding that you admit to those pieces of your past, the stories you’d kept locked away, the parts of you that still felt tethered to him.

“Yeah,” you replied, a hint of defensiveness slipping into your tone. “But that was… before we met.” You avoided everyone’s eyes, your gaze dropping to your plate as you absently nudged the carrots and peas around, focusing on the swirl of orange and green rather than the tension gathering at the table. The words felt flimsy, like a fragile barrier meant to shield a history you weren’t ready to confront, a part of yourself you’d carefully tucked away, hoping it might stay hidden.

Ellie leaned back, clearly enjoying the moment, her grin mischievous. “Oh, it was pretty bad. Joel was basically her live-in caretaker,” she teased, her tone light and playful, though an edge in her voice suggested she understood far more than she let on. “Though, honestly, it should’ve been the other way around—get it? Because he’s, like, old!” She flashed a wide grin, glancing around the table, expecting laughter to fill the air.

Instead, her words landed in a silence heavy and thick, one that turned each glance into a loaded question. Caleb’s eyes flicked to you, his brows furrowing, and you could feel the weight of his unspoken questions pressing in.

Ellie’s grin faltered as the silence stretched, her gaze flickering nervously between you and Joel. She’d sensed the shift, the subtle but unmistakable tension she’d accidentally stirred up, and the humor faded from her face.

The past was no longer a distant memory—it was here, sitting at the table with you, unspoken yet painfully present.

Caleb, blissfully unaware of the shift but clearly sensing something beneath the surface, glanced between you and Joel with an innocent curiosity.

“Oh, I didn’t know you two lived together.” His tone remained light, but confusion had crept into his gaze, searching yours as though trying to fill in a part of your story he’d never been given.

You’d never intentionally kept secrets from Caleb, but Joel wasn’t just a secret—he was an entire chapter of your life that belonged to a different world, a version of yourself that no longer felt real, even if the memories still lingered. How could you explain it to Caleb? How could you paint Joel as anything less than the force he had once been in your life?

“It was only for a bit,” you replied, forcing a lightness into your tone as you took a sip of your wine, hoping to brush the topic aside as a minor detail, something insignificant. But as you felt the weight of Joel’s gaze on you, the room seemed to grow warmer, a flush creeping up your cheeks that had nothing to do with the wine. You could feel the heat rising, making it hard to swallow, each sip meant to steady you only accentuating the tightness in your chest.

When had it gotten so hot in here? You fought the urge to shift in your seat, to break the tension you felt simmering beneath the polite surface of the dinner. You glanced down at your plate, hoping to regain some composure, but you knew Joel was watching, his eyes filled with that piercing intensity, refusing to let you dismiss the memories so easily.

Then suddenly, Joel’s voice cut in, low and steady, his eyes catching yours with a glint that held something almost taunting, an edge that refused to be brushed aside.

“Only a bit?” he echoed, his gaze locked onto yours, holding you in place with a piercing intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, making your stomach twist. “Guess you’ve forgotten all those late nights talking,” he added, each word laced with a quiet challenge, daring you to remember everything you were so desperately trying to downplay.

And he had the audacity to say it so shamelessly, all while taking a casual bite of his food, as if his words were nothing more than light conversation.

Joel wasn’t finished, though. With a slight smirk tugging at his lips, he leaned back, clearly savoring the reaction he was drawing out of you. “Hard to forget, seeing as we spent half those nights sharing that tiny bed,” he added, the words slow and deliberate, his voice low and rough around the edges. He paused, his gaze lingering on you, eyes glinting with both mischief and a darker, unmistakable heat.

Then, almost casually, he turned his attention toward Caleb, as if sharing some harmless piece of trivia. “She’s scared of the dark,” he said, his tone light, but there was an edge there, something that cut deeper than the words themselves. It was a quiet claim, an assertion that he knew parts of you no one else did.

The words hit like a slow-burn revelation, layered with implication that was impossible to ignore. Caleb’s eyebrows furrowed, a flicker of suspicion flashing across his face as he glanced between the two of you, his easy smile fading.

You felt your mouth drop open slightly, caught off guard, and heat rushed to your cheeks as you scrambled for a way to brush it off. The silence that followed was thick, the weight of Joel’s statement casting a shadow over the table, an undeniable hint of a history you could no longer deny.

You didn’t need to look around to sense the ripple of reactions that Joel’s words had set off around the table—the charged silence that had fallen, each person’s unease hanging thick in the air.

Tommy cleared his throat, his discomfort plain as he latched onto the first excuse to escape the tension. “Y’all hear the baby crying?” he mumbled, though the room was quiet. “I better go check on her.” He stood up quickly, his eyes avoiding everyone as he slipped away, relief flashing briefly across his face.

Beside him, Maria’s expression softened, her gaze filled with a mix of sympathy and caution, her lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line. Her eyes flicked between you, Joel, and Caleb, clearly aware of the storm Joel’s words had stirred and how close everything was to spilling over.

Caleb, on the other hand, sat with an uncertain smile, clearly sensing that there was more beneath the surface but struggling to grasp the weight of the moment, his curiosity tempered by a discomfort he couldn’t quite hide.

Ellie, meanwhile, sat back in her chair, eyebrows raised, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. She seemed both entertained and unfazed, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a spark of curiosity, as if she were watching some long-awaited drama finally unfold. The air between all of you thickened, heavy with unsaid things, each person holding their breath in their own way.

Sensing the tension, Ellie cleared her throat, her voice taking on an exaggerated brightness as she tried to steer the conversation toward safer waters.

“So… anyone got fun plans for the winter holidays?” Her attempt at cheer cut through the thick silence, a flicker of relief on her face as if hoping it would lighten the mood.

But her words were met with silence, the weight of Joel’s remark still lingering in the air, too heavy to brush aside. You felt the heat of everyone’s gaze on you, the pressure becoming unbearable, and finally, you stood, forcing a tight smile. “Excuse me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, and slipped out of the room.

•••

Later, standing at the kitchen sink, the rhythmic flow of water provided a small reprieve, a focus to quiet the turmoil of emotions still swirling in your mind. The evening had left a lingering ache in your chest, the weight of unspoken words pressing down as you scrubbed each dish with more force than necessary.

Caleb had left with a soft kiss to your temple, his eyes catching yours in a look that conveyed a clear message—we’re going to talk about this later. His departure was marked by a conspicuous silence toward Joel, a small but unmistakable omission that hung heavy in the room long after he’d gone.

Alone now in the quiet kitchen, you let out a shaky breath, your hands scrubbing at a plate that had long since been clean. The weight of the evening settled on your shoulders, memories and unresolved feelings swirling like a storm you’d been trying to outrun. The steady trickle of water was the only sound, but even that couldn’t drown out the ache of everything left unsaid.

And then you felt it—the unmistakable, familiar weight of someone behind you, the air shifting, thickening with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. You didn’t need to turn to know it was him; the space between you filled with the quiet, electric tension that only Joel could bring.

“What do you want?” you murmured, your voice low, edged with exhaustion, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of your gaze. You kept your eyes trained on the plate in your hands, scrubbing at it with a single-minded focus that bordered on desperation, as if the act alone could somehow chip away at the tension lodged in your chest like a stone.

Behind you, you felt Joel, the silence stretching thin and taut, pulling at the edges of your already fragile resolve. And then, finally, he spoke—a single word, low and raw, “You.”

You swallowed hard, clinging to some semblance of control. “You’re drunk, Joel,” you said, trying to dismiss it, to brush off the weight of his confession as if it didn’t send your heart racing.

But the simplicity of that single word—you—struck you, piercing through every defense you’d carefully built. You gripped the plate in your hands like an anchor, as though it could steady you against the gravity of that word, of him standing so close, vulnerable in a way you’d never thought you’d see.

Before you could even truly process the shock of his admission, his voice cut through the stillness again, stronger, rougher, his words spilling out as if they’d been held back for so long it physically hurt to release them. “Don’t marry him.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and uninvited, slicing through the delicate calm you’d tried to cultivate, fracturing the fragile sense of stability you’d clung to.

This was uncharted territory—a truth that neither of you had ever dared speak aloud, not in the hidden moments you’d shared, not in the silent glances or lingering touches. To admit this, to break the unspoken pact you’d both followed so carefully, was seismic, a step into something vast and dangerous.

You turned, slowly, meeting his gaze at last, and the look in his eyes stole the breath from your lungs. His expression was laid bare, raw, the depth of longing there almost too much to bear. This wasn’t a casual confession, and the words weren’t just fleeting emotions flaring up in the heat of the moment.

No, this was something different, something he’d carried with him through every mile, every sleepless night away from Jackson. You could see it—the weight of a year’s worth of loneliness and need, the visceral realization that he needed you in a way that he could no longer deny.

“Don’t marry him,” he repeated, his voice trembling with an urgency that hit you like a wave, raw and unguarded. He took a step closer, his gaze intense, each word pressing into the space between you with an unyielding force. “I don’t want to live like this anymore—pretending like you don’t mean everything to me.”

His hand clenched at his side, as though he was fighting the urge to reach out, to close the distance and make you feel the truth of his words. “I didn’t come back to Jackson just to hide. I’m done hiding,” he murmured, the roughness in his voice betraying how much he’d held back, how deeply he’d buried it all. His eyes searched yours, as if willing you to understand the depth of what he couldn’t contain any longer.

“I need you to know…” His voice broke slightly, the weight of the words almost too much for him to bear. “I need you to know what I feel.”

His words hung between you, each one thick with conviction, and for the first time, he’d made it known—no more secrets, no more hiding behind the past or the lives you’d tried to build apart.

He was standing here, stripped bare, willing to risk it all. And as you looked into his eyes, a chasm of emotion stretched between you, one that neither of you could ignore anymore, a truth that had always existed but was finally spoken aloud.

The pain in his eyes was unguarded, his desperation palpable, and you could see it—an almost frantic pleading that softened the edges of his usual stoicism. But that rawness, that vulnerability, only made it harder to hold onto your anger. You felt the weight of his gaze pressing into you, silently asking for a forgiveness you weren’t sure you could offer, a connection you weren’t sure you could endure.

Though his words tugged at your heart, filling you with the relief you hadn’t even known you were holding your breath for, there was something else there—anger, hot and unrelenting, burning through the quiet yearning. These were the words you’d yearned to hear, yes, but they came wrapped in a pain you couldn’t ignore.

“How dare you,” you whispered, barely able to keep the tremor from your voice, the words slipping out raw and edged with fury.

His gaze flickered, his face drawn tight as he struggled to find the words. “I didn’t have a choice,” he replied, his voice rough, the weight of it hanging heavy in the air, a justification that felt as fragile as it was final.

You scoffed, the anger flaring higher, spilling over as years of unresolved feelings surged to the surface. “There’s always a choice,” you shot back, each word sharp, laced with the bitterness of wounds that had never fully healed.

“You didn’t have to leave me like that, Joel. Without a word, without even a hint that you were coming back. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

You could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the burn of them blurring your vision as the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. “I thought you were dead, Joel,” you whispered, barely holding back the wave of emotions crashing over you.

The grief you’d buried, the emptiness you’d carried for so long, all of it resurfaced now with a vengeance. “I had to mourn you—every day, every night, wondering if you were out there somewhere or if this world had swallowed you whole.”

He shifted, his jaw tightening, but he remained silent, his eyes filled with something dark and unreadable as he watched you, taking in every word, every tremor in your voice.

You took a shaky breath, the weight of the words settling over you, but the anger remained fierce, stoking the fire that had smoldered beneath the grief all this time. “And now, here you are, expecting me to drop everything just because you’re back, because you decided it was finally time to show up and tell me how you feel?”

Before you could pull away, his hands came up to cradle your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a rough, familiar tenderness that unraveled your defenses one touch at a time. Your eyes stayed fixed on the floor, clinging to the remnants of your anger, but he tilted your chin, gently forcing you to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was nearly unbearable—haunted, pleading, raw with a vulnerability you’d never seen before.

“I’m here now,” he whispered, his thumb skimming softly over your cheek, his touch achingly tender against the whirlwind of emotions crackling between you. “I’m here now, and I want you—no… I need you.”

His words settled over you, each syllable sinking deep, loosening the walls you’d tried so hard to build. His eyes, dark and unguarded, searched yours with a desperation you hadn’t seen before, a vulnerability that struck at your core.

He was looking for something—forgiveness, maybe, or hope, something to hold on to, some small assurance that he hadn’t lost you completely.

The air between you felt charged, alive with the ache of love and the bitterness of loss, thick with things that could never be undone. You felt yourself trembling beneath his touch, suspended in the pull between the pain he’d caused and the undeniable connection that still tethered you to him, no matter how hard you’d tried to deny it.

“Well, Joel,” you whispered, voice breaking as the flood of emotions finally surged forward, “I needed you. I needed you here.” The words slipped out, barely audible yet carrying years of hurt. “And you just… disappeared.”

He held your gaze, unflinching, his eyes steady, piercing, as though he could see through every defense you tried to keep up. “Come here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent, a quiet demand that tugged at something deep within you. Before you could protest, he pulled you in, wrapping you in the warmth of his embrace, pressing your cheek to his neck where his scent, familiar and grounding, surrounded you.

The tension in your body began to dissolve, your walls crumbling under the weight of his presence, the way he held you like something precious, irreplaceable. You felt the tears slip free, wetting his shirt as he held you tighter, as if he could shield you from every ache you’d carried alone.

Slowly, he drew back, his hands coming up to cradle your face, as though he couldn’t bear to go a moment without touching you. His thumbs traced a gentle line along your cheeks while he looked at you with a softness that left you feeling utterly exposed, seen in a way no one else ever had, as though he was reaching through every barrier you’d ever put up, seeing the parts of you you’d never let anyone else find.

His thumb lingered, his touch gentle but deliberate, leaving a warmth that spread through you with each stroke. “I know you feel it too, don’t you, darlin’?” he murmured, his voice thick with longing, every word weighted by unspoken moments, things left unsaid for far too long. His gaze held yours, and in it, you saw everything he’d been holding back, a yearning that matched your own.

His gaze flickered down to your lips, lingering for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes. “I saw the way you were lookin’ at me tonight… at dinner.” His voice softened, dipping to a murmur as his thumb brushed your cheek again, lingering as though he didn’t want to let go. “You can’t tell me that was nothin’.”

His words struck you like a lightning bolt, raw and unfiltered, his quiet confidence cutting through every barrier you’d put up. Your stomach twisted, your pulse racing, the way he saw right through you stirring feelings you’d tried so hard to bury.

He knew how deeply you wanted him, knew that the pull between you hadn’t dimmed, and now, with every word, he was stepping over every line, breaking down every silent rule you’d tried to enforce, leaving you defenseless in the wake of his honesty.

The faint scent of whiskey lingered on his breath, blending with the warmth radiating from him, and you found yourself drowning in the details—the worn lines of his face, the way his lips parted as if waiting for you to respond, to give him any sign.

Your throat tightened, the words slipping away as you stammered, caught between his gaze and the undeniable force drawing you closer to him. “I—I…” Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel every nerve alight as his fingers brushed over your wrist, grounding and unsteadying you all at once.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a sad, almost desperate smile. “You can tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice so low it was barely more than a breath. “But I don’t think you want me to. Hell, I don’t think I even can.” He leaned in, and the air between you thickened, so charged with unspoken longing you felt like you might drown in it.

His face was close enough that you could see every line etched into his brow, the way his eyes lingered on your lips, as though he was just as close to breaking as you were. You hated yourself for it, but you leaned in too, your body betraying the logic your mind clung to.

“Joel…” His name slipped from your lips, barely audible, a breath caught between resistance and surrender. But he was already closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his gaze moving over your face like he was memorizing each detail, each curve, each fragile expression you gave away.

“Say it,” he murmured, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek, a touch that felt like a quiet plea. “Tell me you don’t feel it. Look me in the eye, and I’ll walk away. I’ll stop. But if you can’t…”

He held you there, suspended between anger and longing, between the scars he’d left and the undeniable pull that still held you captive. In his eyes was an offering, a choice: to close this chapter once and for all or to risk everything and let yourself open to him again.

And in that moment, as his gaze searched yours, you felt every emotion—the hurt, the love, the longing—flood back in, an unspoken answer he was waiting for, an answer that might change everything.

“Stop.” The word sliced through the air, sharp and final. Gently, but firmly, you lifted his hands from your face, breaking the contact that had felt like both salvation and torture. You took a step back, feeling the space grow between you like an unbridgeable chasm, a boundary you could no longer allow him to cross.

“I can’t, Joel,” you said, your voice trembling, betraying the weight of your resolve. “It’s too late. Just… stop. Stop with the looks, the touching, and what you said tonight about us sharing a bed—what the hell were you thinking?”

The words spilled out, raw and unfiltered, each one coated with a desperation to hold onto the life you’d fought so hard to build in his absence. You glanced up at him, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes

His gaze held steady, undeterred by your anger, his eyes intense and unflinching. “What was I thinking?” he repeated, his voice low, the words thick with an unspoken ache. “I was thinkin’ I couldn’t sit across from you any longer, pretendin’ like there’s not still somethin’ between us.” He took a step forward, reaching for you, but you pulled back, unwilling to fall under his spell again.

“Joel, you had your chance,” you whispered, your voice barely holding together as the pain in your chest deepened, sharp and unrelenting. “You don’t get to come back now and act like nothing’s changed.”

He looked down, his jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was rough, laden with regret. “I know I messed up,” he murmured, each word filled with remorse that hung heavy between you. “But I can’t stand here and pretend you don’t still mean everything to me.” His gaze lifted to meet yours, and in that moment, his eyes held a sincerity that cut through every defense you’d tried to build, making it nearly impossible to look away.

“It’s too late, Joel,” you replied, each word a painful truth you forced yourself to accept. “You made your choice. I moved on. I had to.”

He stared at you, his expression wavering between disbelief and desperation, as if the weight of your words was too much to bear, as if he hadn’t realized until this moment what his leaving had truly done to you. His lips parted as though he might say something, but the words died on his tongue, his eyes searching yours, pleading silently for some trace of forgiveness. But you held steady, your heart splintering with the resolve you’d fought to keep.

“I’m marrying Caleb,” you whispered, each word feeling like a nail sealing shut the door to everything you’d once shared. You watched as the last glimmer of hope in his eyes faded, leaving only a raw, quiet devastation that twisted something inside you, but you couldn’t falter—not now. You had to hold on to the life you’d built, to the stability you’d found, even if it meant leaving this part of you—of him—behind.

The silence that filled the space between you was deafening, weighted with memories of a love that never bloomed and never faded, with words that had never been spoken. Joel’s gaze fell, and in the set of his shoulders, the defeated slope of his posture, you could see the impact of your words settle, the shattering pain of realizing that you were no longer his to lose.

Without another word, you turned back to the sink, the steady stream of water the only sound in the room as you focused on anything but the silent ache building inside you.

Behind you, you heard Joel’s footsteps, slow and heavy, each step echoing like the sound of a door closing.

You held yourself steady, refusing to look back, even as his presence slipped away, the sound of him fading from the room like the final echoes of a memory you’d never fully let go of.

Tag List

@sweatpeakarolinaa

@wasitforrevenge

@ro-nahime-things

@pedritospunk

@aceaubrianna

@karolinape @wasitforrevenge @picketniffler @somedayheaven

@anoverwhelmingdin @ashleyfilm

@somedayheaven @anoverwhelmingdin @joeldjarin @yourgirlcin

@swimmingeggcloudkid @dlwrish @cathsteen @reneerocks3617

@denisanoemi @prnxcessfics @orcasoul @rosebuds-and-moonlight @rescuethewretched

@valkyreally @ccmoonshine @dlwrish @immyowndefender @babygals-world @zenrobbins0021 @malfoycassimalfoy @damneddamsy @atenceladusiaawfytbwb @frogjumps-world @dendulinka6 @orcasoul @whirlwindrider29 @lol-im-done

@somedayheaven @ohdearvalentine @keseqna @kulekehe

@darkheartgatita @ickearmn @spacegirl-3 @mystickittytaco

@sukunnayuuji @jasminedragoon @merm4id5lut @ickearmn

@dugiioh @ginsan-eyes @smoochispoof @off-dreaming-again @cynicalbunny @dendulinka6 @w-w-a-n-d-r-l-u-s-t-t @path0logicalpeoplepleaser @spacemamax @lizzie-cakes @off-dreaming-again @cumberpeggg @agnus04 @laliceee @bambisweetheartss @thoughtfulmoonchild911 @joelspeach

221 notes · View notes

liliansun · 1 year ago

Text

two “rules” one problem

pairing : ex-bff!hyuck x fem!reader

wc : 14.8k

synopsis : despite your history, you and haechan couldn’t stand each other. that is till you’re paired up for a project and he’s just desperate enough for your help with his love life with the acception of his stupid rules

genre : enemies2lovers (best trope), ex-childhood friends to lovers (also best trope), fake dating, angst, fluff, college au

warnings : swearing, kissing, alcohol, haechan gets jealous, lying, uhh idk what else but lmk if i missed something (not proof read so i’m sorry 🥲)

If there was one thing twelve year old donghyuck wanted more in this world, other than his mom’s cooking, it was his two best friends coming together. You had been his friend since birth, both your mom’s bonding together before the two of you even came into the world. They met in a birth class, having similar due dates helped them both find comfort and friendship within each other compared to the other moms in the class that were farther along than them. They had already planned playdates after both you and donghyuck were born and even after all that time, they stayed true to those plans.

Your earliest memories have donghyuck in them in some shape, way or form. Whether he was attending you birthday party, or you to his, all the way to the two of you sharing the same home room when you both started school. The dynamic between you two was truly unmatched, something that could never be touched or fault. When you two got older, not much had changed. The excitement of high school had you both buzzing as each day passed through your final years of being just below the line of being a teenager.

Although you both were attached by the hip, you still found space in your young life to befriend other people, or at least donghyuck did. Thats how mark lee came into the picture, being a transfer student in the middle of the year made it hard for him to settle in and become comfortable. Donghyuck saw mark sitting along during lunch one sunny afternoon and although the two had a bit of a rocky start, their friendship blossomed into something that they both needed. Now that he had such a connection with his new found friend, all he wanted to do is share his love for mark with you. You thought you were a welcoming person, easy to get along with and fairly nice, but the day donghyuck brought you and mark together would just so happen be the day you lost your best friend.

“I’m telling you, that doesn’t sound right to me.”

Mark rolls his eyes, laughing a little under his breath as he strums his slender fingers against the strings on his guitar. “Its not finished yet, gotta trust the process.” You simply reply with a hum as you watch mark fiddle and try to tune the strings to his liking. The two of you were cooped up in his dorm room, him sitting on the edge of his bed with the instrument rested in his lap while you opted to sit in the chair that usually was tucked under his desk. “What are you doing here anyway, don't you have other friends to bother instead?” Rolling your eyes, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. “Actually, no i don't, i thought we went over this. Yeongmin is off studying so she can’t aid my boredom.”

Mark continued strumming along the strings till he got a rhythm he liked and started to hum along with the tune that was filling the room. “I swear you’re gonna be famous one of these days.” Looking down at your phone, you notice the groupchat you’re in with your friends is going off. “That would be nice actually.” Unlocking your phone, a smile spreads across your lips at the messages that were popping up. “Maybe if you didn’t have crippling stage fright, you’d be able to actually play the songs you sing to more people than just me.” A gentle laugh left mark’s throat as he set the guitar down on its stand beside his bed. “Actually, I sing to Haechan too, so don’t come for me.” His name left a sour taste in your mouth, your face scrunching up as you try to block out his stupid face in your mind. Mark could tell you two still weren’t on good terms, but he didn’t want to push it again and opted to pick up his phone that was vibrating on his bed.

You stole a glace at the screen, catching the name of the caller id. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You mumble underneath your breath. Mark answers the facetime call, holding his phone in his hand, but opting to hold it further down at an angle. “Yo, whats up?” The background noise was windy, letting both you and mark know that he must've been outside. “Bro where have you been, i've been looking for you for hours!”

“If you didn’t find him, he obviously didn’t wanna be found, but if its you he’s hiding from who can blame him.” Mumbling beneath your breath, but mark still heard you. “Hey, you be nice over there.” haechan looked confused on the screen, strolling around on campus to his unknown destination. “Are you talking to yourself again?” mark turned his camera around, showing you sitting comfortably in his chair as you scroll mindlessly on social media. “No, im not talking to myself again, y/n is here.” by the mention of your name, haechan rolled his eyes. “Why is she always there when im coming over.”

“I didn't even know you're coming over.” added in his defense after switching his camera back around. “If that thing is on his way, i’m out.” you piped up, grabbing your bag from off the floor as you stood up from the chair. “Text me when you make it in at least?” mark felt helpless sometimes. He never truly understood what went down between you and haechan all those years ago, but splitting his free time between the two of could could be more challenging some days than others. If he wasn’t chilling with you in the comfort of the few places you knew haechan wouldn’t be caught dead near like your dorm or the library, he was chilling with haechan and the friend group they developed over the years being in college.

“Will do, have fun with the devils incarnate.” You say back as you’re opening the door to make your exit. Just as you’re leaving, you come face to face with something firm or shall you say someone. “Do you ever use those eyes of yours or are they just there for decoration?” you recognized that voice from anywhere, it being the same voice belonging to the one person you were hoping not to see on your way out. “Can you move lee, or are you just that self absorbed to think that I could just see you standing outside the door before it was even open?” Haechan scoffed as you walked past him, huffing as you nudge him with your shoulder to get him out of your way. From mark’s dorm to yours wasn't a far walk, which was good for you when you needed to get out of your room or just needed his help on an assignment. Unfortunately for you, it meant that haechan too didn’t have much of a far walk either seeing that his dorm hall was across from yours.

When you get into your room, your roommate wonchae looked up from her phone as she was laid out on her bed. “I thought you were at mark’s for a few hours?” Tossing your bag down beside the door you huff as you walk over to your bed and crawl underneath the blanket after removing your shoes. “I was till donghyuck decided to grace mark with his presence.” Wonchae giggled as she sits up, looking at you getting comfortable beneath your blanket as you pull your phone out. “Wanna call the girls over for a movie night instead?” you glance over at her, a smile spreading across your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbow. “As long as we’re not too loud again, we can’t afford another complaint this month.” Wonchae was already texting the groupchat before you could even finish your sentence. The night proceeded with you and your friends having a movie marathon despite your early class in the morning. You assumed it wouldn’t be too much to unwind a bit, binge watching three movies back to back. Somehow, you didn’t make it to your bed when you initially planned to due to the twins, wonchae and yechae convincing you to pull through the last movie.

Since the time on the clock read after midnight by the time the movies were finished, the three girls opted to sleep over with you and your roommate instead of taking the risk of going back to their own dorms. Yeongmin’s dorm was the furthest from yours, being about a twenty minute walk and you all collectively agreed she especially was sleeping over. Somehow you and yeongmin both managed to fit in your tiny bed for the night while the twins and sin-ra snuggled up on wonchae’s bed across the room. By the next morning, you woke up to the sound of yeongmin snoring in your ear beside you. She had her arms and legs tangled in yous, trying to pry her off you as you crane your neck to look over at the time clock on your desk. Your worst fears were confirmed when the time read nine after when your first class was supposed to finish. Quickly getting out of the warmth of your bed, you scramble to get ready and are out the door before you can properly apologize for waking everyone up.

If you were lucky, or rather fast enough, you can catch your professor before he starts his next class and get the notes on what you missed. You make a mental note to thank yourself when you set up your schedule for this semester for giving you breaks in between classes, especially on the midday schedules. As your toppling up the stairs leading into the building, you spot haechan leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He hadn’t noticed you thankfully, not wanting him to hold the fact that you almost busted your face open trying to get inside over your head. He looked so into thought, looking out over the campus as you take the opportunity to grip the railing to catch your breath.

“Look who decided to show up for class today.” rolling your eyes, you straighten your posture as he pulls himself off the wall he once was comfortably leaning against. “Don’t start with me today, i almost died trying to get over here to catch professor choi before his next class.”

“Don't bother, he cut class short for some family emergency or something, but i can fill you in if you fix your attitude.” He truly was the epitome of your frustration. “Just tell me what i missed so i can get away from you as quickly as possible.” there was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he tools steps towards you. “Looks like you’re not gonna get too far, we’re partnered up for a presentation.”

If the universe didn’t already hate you, you’d think this was your first sign. “I can always request a partner switch, you know?” Haechan only laughs in response, clutching the bag hung over his shoulder with one hand. “Good luck with that, he made it pretty clear that he wasn’t giving in because this will be counted towards our final.” a sigh left your lips as you accepted your fate, you and haechan would have to spend an unknown amount of hours in each others presence without any chance at getting around it. “Just meet me after our next class and we can go over it then.” WIth that, you turned on your heals and made your way to the nearest cafe to get something in your body since you didn’t have the opportunity to grab breakfast. Thankfully for you, your campus was notorious for its tiny cafes placed around all of campus which not only helped feed your caffeine addiction, it helped other students make some money as they swim in student dept.

As good as every cafe you’ve been to on campus can be, none of them compare to the baristas at cafe neo, something about the way those boys make your drinks just the way you like them has been without a doubt why you only trust them with your order. As you make your way across campus and the cafe is within sight, you over hear a conversation between the two girls in front of you. “Oh my god, look what bomi just posted!” the one to your right gasped, whipping out her phone as she brings it to the slightly shorter girls attention. “You’re kidding, isn’t she dating haechan?” you’re trying not to be nosy, not fond of listening into other peoples conversation, but at the mention of haechan’s name, you can’t help, but keen in. “Guess not anymore, look at the caption, those hearts are definitely more than just friendly.”

The two part off of the way you were going, leaving you with little information as to what their reactions were about. You had just saw haechan, judging by his usual cocky and self absorbing nature, he seemed all but heartbroken. You push your wondering thoughts aside as you enter in the cafe, smiling over at the tall boy who stood behind the counter. “Welcome to cafe neo– oh hi y/n!” his nametag read jisung, but you always referred to him as the cute underclassman who blushed when you tipped him. “Hi ji, anything new on the menu?” Jisung smiled at you as you walk up to the counter. “Nothing today, chenle is still brainstorming over ideas to ask the culinary department on what they can come up with in the back, you just want the usual?” You skim over the menu that was hanging on the wall behind him, as if you got anything different, but it never hurt to look. “Mmm, yeah, just one please.”

Getting the money from your pocket, you lay it on the counter as he typed in your order on the screen in front of him. It’s times like this that make you wonder how often you come here for this boy to know your order by heart. He takes the money you laid out for him and as he tries to hand you your change, you throw your hand up in refusal. “No, you keep it, you boys work too hard.” theres a slight pinkish tent to his cheeks as he slips the few bills and coins in the glass jar beside the front of the counter. “I’ll call you when its ready!”

Throughout the rest of the day, you take your perfectly made drink with you to your next class and go about your day, everything feeling as normal as it could. One thing that slightly bothered you were the hushed whispers of Haechan’s relationship and how quickly his ex girlfriend seemed to move on. People were coming up with theories amongst themselves as to what could’ve happened and if Haechan knew. Just like you, some said he seemed fine for the first part of the day till the alleged post was made from which you overheard. You didn’t pay it any mind and went about your day till you were back in your room for the night.

“And if you carry this number, you should get one of these answers down here.”

“And how do i know if i got them right?”

“We won’t know till we actually try, now won’t we?” Jaemin, the guy who you shared a math class with last semester, asked you to tutor him this semester so that he might actually have a chance of passing the class and getting out of this hellhole. His words, not yours. “Or, brillant idea, you can use your pretty brain and show me which answer is correct.” Jaemin was indeed a smart guy, but it was moments like these that you questioned if he really had a multi functioning organ in that skull of his or was it just hot air. “Not a chance, solve it the way I showed you and we’ll go from there.” With a defeated huff, he finally puts the pencil that he has been fiddling with the last few minutes to work.

The two of you met in the library near his hall regularly, about twice during the week and an extra day is added when he has an upcoming test and if you have the time. The library usually was quiet around this time of day, most keeping to themselves as they cater to their own work, but for some reason you felt a pair of eyes staring at the back of your head. Just as you’re about to take a look around the room, the chair beside you is being pulled out and haechan finds himself in the seat next to you. “Where have you been?” you look over at him, slightly shocked to see him actually in the library. “Excuse me?” His face tells you that he’s annoyed, rolling his eyes dramatically as he leans into your personal space. “I said, where have you been, i've been all over campus for you and had to result to mark to find you.”

You motion to Jaemin who was focused in on the problem in front of him, or at least he was when you last looked his way. Now he has his signature grin on his lips, flashing his teeth as he witness the unwelcomed tension between you and haechan. “For your information, i’m tutoring pretty boy over here and your grumpiness is interrupting him.” Jaemin’s smile widens even more as the vein in Haechan’s forehead looks like it about to pop. “I, quite frankly, don’t give a fuck. maybe send someone a text next time so i don’t have to look so desprate to find you.” You scoff, sitting back in your seat as you realize his undertones. Who was he to say that looking for you made him look desperate, he literally is desperate in this moment.

“Sorry to break up this beautiful moment, but its about that time for me to go, so y/n, same time next week?” Nodding, you let out a sigh as Jaemin starts to pack his things into his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “There, happy now? You ran off Jaemin.” haechan ignores you, pulling his laptop out of his own bag and sets it onto the table. “We have roughly a month and a half to pump out a fucking book of an essay and make a slide point presentation, the faster we get this finished the less I have to see you in my free time.” He was truly unbelievable, first he comes and interrupts your personal time to help the needy, needy being Jaemin and his need to pass his class, and now he throws wanting to get away from you as quickly as he can? You are definitely adding this to the list of why you hate him.

The two of you go over the topic you were given, trying to break down the work between the two of you into categories: what you can do separate and what you’ll have to do together. Since you both were already here, you decided it would be best to get a head start on the research portion. Time must’ve caught up with you both, wrapping things up right before the library closed for the night. “I can’t look at this screen anymore, lets just end it here and meet up another day.” You grab your forgotten bag from the floor, carrying it on your arm as Haechan packs up his laptop. By the time he is done, you’re already making your way out the door and dredging the walk back to your dorm. Quick approaching steps trail behind you as haechan jogs to catch up to you. “Woah, not so fast, aren’t you forgetting something?” you don’t bother to stop, continuing your walk as he walks beside you. “And that is?”

“We don’t have any way of contacting each other, idiot, so give me your number.” You halt your movements and with a sigh, turn to face him. The bright sky from when you first entered the library earlier is now replaced with the deep colors of the night. The moon was full, shining its light down and being your only real light to see haechan’s features that seem more soft in this setting. “Do you still remember my number?” Haechan looks taken aback, looking at you with a lingering confusion in his eyes. “You still have that number?”

“Mhm, so if you still know it then there’s your way of getting to me.” You’re about to turn and make your way to your dorm, your stomach urging you to find food soon. Haechan was chewing on his bottom lip, reaching out for your arm as he watched you try to walk away. “What is it donghyuck? I’m hungry and tired, what could you possibly want now?” The wind leaves his lungs as you say his name. Once he got to high school, many people started sticking him with the nickname Haechan, the reasoning behind it was his bright smile and personality, but you still saw him as donghyuck even after all this time.

“Just come with me, your dorm is too far to be walking at this time of night.” You didn’t get a chance to protest, he was already dragging you along with him to his car parked out front. “Fine, but I swear if you try to kill me with your driving I will come back to haunt your ugly ass.” You earn a snicker from him, his hand still holding your arm till you two reach his car and you slide into his passenger seat. Haechan fits perfectly into the drivers seat, putting the keys into the ignition and starting up his car once you are locked in. The two of you don’t say much, letting the radio fill in the silence of the drive. You’re too busy looking out the window to realize he passes up your hall, looking over at him with confusion once you see an unfamiliar street.

“Uhm, where are we going?”

“Dinner.” The words fall from his mouth so nonchalantly that you don’t question it any further, sinking into the seat as you let him drive to wherever he wanted. You’re not exactly sure why, but part of you always wanted a moment like this. Sitting in the car with Haechan, driving around town till it got dark was one thing you dreamt of back when you were both young, back when you still could see yourself in his future. Now that you’re doing it, it almost feels foreign. Sure, everything about his car screamed Haechan, the little things dangling from his rear view mirror gave that away, but the boy beside you was far from familiar. He was uncharted territory, someone you barely knew and to be beside him, being this close to him brought on a headache you weren’t expecting.

The two of you pull through the Taco Bell drive through, getting in line behind the cars. “What do you want?” You tell him your order after glancing over the menu. Even though you already knew what you wanted, you still wanted to give it some time to tell him in the order you wanted it. You were the type of person who wasn’t afraid of change, but didn’t go out of your way to invite it either. Always ordering the same thing from each place you go, you found comfort in the things that could always remain the same, like your Taco Bell order.

After your order is put through, you’re pulling your wallet out to give him cash for your part. “Here, this is for the food.” Haechan simply ignores you, handing over his card to the guy at the window. “Hello? Take the cash before I take it back.” After getting his card back, he slips it into his pocket and pulls forward. “Save your money, y/n, it’s not a big deal.” He seemed short with you tonight, not speaking up or putting much of a fight into it like he usually did in the passing times you two saw one another. It felt odd to see him brush you off, an unsettling feeling washing over you as you put the money back into your wallet.

After he had gotten the food and your two drinks, he whipped his car around and parked in a spot on the side of the building. “Are you fine eating here, I’m kinda hungry and don’t wanna have to wait till we get back.”

“No, yeah, it’s fine, but are you okay?”

You could see his body tense up at your question, pushing the straw into your drink before doing so to his own. “I guess, why do you care?” You’re sorting through the bag, grabbing what you assumed was his and handing it over to him. He goes to grab his food from your hand, your fingers brushing against each other’s for a moment. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, the warmth of his hand against yours, but it felt all too familiar and you almost jerk back as he quickly grabs the food. “Because I’m a decent human being and I knew you well enough back then to know that something is off.”

If you could read his thoughts, you’d see how badly your words hurt him just now. You were far from wrong, you truly did know him like the back of your hand and maybe even better than he knew himself, but too much time between you two had you both wondering if you knew anything about each other anymore. Amongst the burning anger you both have for one another, there was still some sort of longing within you that had you both slightly questioning the downfall of your friendship, but never enough to where either would act on it. “I don’t know, it’s kind of weird to think of opening up to someone I hate.”

“Then don’t think about it right now, if you need someone to talk to then do so. If it means forgetting you hate me just to get it off your chest, do so donghyuck.” A somber smile finds its way onto his lips as he tears open the wrapping that covered his food. “You’re a little too nice to me for someone who hates me just as much as I hate them.”

“Just because I hate you doesn’t mean I’m evil, I have a heart too you know?”

“Oh really, I never would’ve guessed judging by the lifeless look in your eyes.” You roll your eyes at his jab, mumbling something about dropping it before relishing in your food. The two of you don’t talk much after that, sitting in his car with the only form of sounds filling it were you two eating till he dropped you off. After getting in, wonchae gave you a weird look as you looked both defeated and exhausted. You told her you had a rough day and wanted sleep to be the reason you forgot about it.

You hadn’t seen or heard from Haechan since the night he bombarded you in the middle of your study session with Jaemin then took you out to Taco Bell. Sure, you’d see him in your shared class, but not once did his eyes meet yours and he kept every snarky remark to himself if he had any. You didn’t pay it any mind, assuming whatever was going on with him would pass and he’d be back to his normal asshole-like self soon. In between your classes for the day, you decided to slip off to the neo cafe for some well needed caffeine to keep you going through the day. While you were here, you planned to slip off in a quiet corner and let the music they play in the small room milk your brain to help you continue working on the parts of your presentation with Haechan.

As you’re walking up to the counter, you notice Jisung was nowhere to be found and you opt to wait patiently by the counter. The ring of the bell signaling the doors movement doesn’t catch your attention, but the familiar voice behind you does when you turn your head to the boy who called your name. “Can I help you?” Haechan hadn’t turned to look at you, his eyes scanning over the menu. “What’s good here, do you know?” You give him a puzzled look, wondering where this small talk came from. “Uhm, if your taste buds are even remotely the same, I’d say you’d get the sweet honey taro drink, it comes iced or hot.” He simply nods, tearing his eyes from the menu and lets his gaze fall onto you. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, trying to find something that felt familiar behind them, but all you could see was the void behind his golden irises.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting! Chenle was about to burn down the kitchen so I had to step away for a second.” Jisung’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, turning to him with a soft smile. “That’s okay ji, I’m more than happy to wait if that meant this sacred place would still be my caffeine plug.” Jisung smiles as he enters your order, his attention going from yours to Haechan whose gaze has yet to leave your figure. Your eyes follow Jisung’s, looking over at Haechan. “Oh, no we’re not—“

“I’ll just have what she’s having.” Haechan pulls out some cash from his back pocket, bringing it out for Jisung. Your mind couldn’t wrap itself around Haechan’s weird demeanor lately, he not only has been nice to you, but he’s paid for you twice. You knew he was sick in the head, but now you’re guessing it’s more than just his mental stability. When Jisung gives Haechan his change, you fumble with your pocket and pull out a few bills to throw into the tip jar, something you didn’t want to miss even if you weren’t the one paying. Jisung silently thanked you with his smile, to which you returned and told you both that he’d call you when your drinks were ready.

You were about to start questioning the weirdly quiet Haechan before he motioned for you both to move over to a table a little further in a corner. The two of you sat down, setting your bag against your chair as you prop your elbows up onto the table. “Okay, you’re acting weird and it’s starting to make me feel uncomfortable.” Haechan’s lips part as he goes to speak, but Jisung’s presence interrupts him as the younger boy sets both the cups down. “Thanks, ji.” You said, grabbing one of the drinks and bringing it towards you. “Y/n, back in the car you said something that I’ve been thinking about lately.” He had your full attention, something that made him oddly feel sheer to you. You were leaned in, your body language letting him know that you were listening, despite the awkwardness of the moment.

“You said that even though you hate me, you still have a heart too.” Nodding in confirmation, you remember saying it, but it didn’t make sense as to why he was bringing it up. “I, uhm, don’t know if you heard or not, but my girlf—my ex broke up with me recently and I really want to get her back.” You bring the cup in your hands to your lips, taking in a slow sip in case his next words are your cause of death. “And the only way I can think to do that is to make her jealous and I know what you’re thinking and I can hear it now, but just hear me out?” There it was, his intentions and reasoning behind his odd behavior lately. As you process his words, you already know where this is going and your drink decides to be the one to take you out today instead. You start to choke as the liquid goes off its track and nearly comes back through your nose.

Haechan’s eyes widen, staring at you in surprise as you try to gain back the air that just left your lungs as you cough. “Are you okay?” You simply nod, patting your chest as your drink is put back onto the table and you’re taking in slow breaths to steady yourself in the seat. “Uh yeah, no wait, okay hold on, you want to do what now?” The boy across from you drops his head slightly, feeling embarrassed by even bringing up the situation. Yeah, he wanted his ex back, he truly loved her, or so that’s what he thought it was. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but you’re the only person I thought of.”

“And what makes you think it’ll be believable? I mean the whole campus knows we hate each other.”

“But they also know we have history, plus this project will be a good enough cover to make them believe we had some spark going off or whatever.” You stay silent, contemplating the whole ordeal. On one hand, this could go terribly wrong in many ways, people could not believe you two and this could blow up in your face for the rest of your time at this university or it could go great and once he’s back in the arms of his ex lover, he’ll finally leave your hair for good. “I’m not saying yes, so don’t get too excited, but if I were to think about it, what do I get out of it?” Haechan knew you were going to want something, a slight smirk forming in the corners of his lips. In his mind, he guesses some things never change and with that, neither have you. “I’ll leave you alone after this, no more bickering or picking at you and shit—oh and I’ll do half of your work for the project!”

Damn, he truly was desperate. You press your lips together, trying to debate if this truly would be worth it. The outcome, if good, would be best for both parties and maybe you’d finally have a peaceful rest of your time here. Something deep down inside tells you it’s a bad idea, but you choose to ignore it because if it meant he’d take over half of what you have to do on your shared presentation, more free time for you. “I have to go to class, but I’ll let you know by later tonight.” Your watch indicated if you didn’t leave now, you’d be late for your next class and since you have a lab today, you especially didn’t want to miss it. You go to stand, one hand holding your bag while the other grabs your cup. Haechan stands too, his bag still hanging on his shoulder as he goes to grab his cup. The two of you exit the Neo cafe quietly, unaware of the lingering eyes that follow you two out.

After your final class, you make a b-line to Mark’s dorm where he was expecting you. It had been a few days since you two had time to hang out and you both were taking the opportunity to have some study time together in the quiet of his dorm. Once he signs you in as a guest, you both go up to his dorm and make yourselves comfortable, you being at his desk and him sitting on his bed. “What do you have to get done?” Pulling out your notes from your lab along with your laptop, you set everything out on his desktop. “Just going over some notes and typing them into a small essay for class, you?”

“Man, I got a quiz to study for and since professor moon likes to give them at the worst times possible, I gotta get as much as I can in.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you both busy yourselves in what you were doing, Mark had his speaker on and chose a calming playlist he created for when you two would study like this. The music really did help you stay focused, having something to fill the room to keep your brain from getting off track. You’re about halfway done typing away on your laptop when your phone buzzes beside it. Glancing over, you notice a few missed notifications from your shared group chat with your friends, a few social media notifications and a text from an unknown number. You’re about to pick up your phone to see who texted you when an incoming call pops up on the screen, the same number that texted you.

You slide your thumb across your phone, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“You didn’t answer my text.” Of course it would be Haechan, who else were you expecting. In all honesty, you did expect him to text you at some point, but the call was a surprise for you. “I’m studying, like you should be doing too.”

“I need to know your answer, don’t get too excited.” You can practically feel him smirking through the phone followed by some shuffling. “Where are you anyway? I stopped by your hall and you weren’t there.”

Your posture straightens, wondering who he asked and what he told them when we made his way to your dorm. “You did what? Are you insane?” Haechan laughs, a soft laugh as you lean back in the seat. “Slightly, I’ve been told that’s a part of my charm though.” Rolling your eyes, you huff before looking over your shoulder at mark. “I’m with a friend, why?”

“Tell me where you’re at unless you want me to go to every hall on campus.”

“You’re fucking psycho, I’m with mark, idiot.” At the mention of his name, mark looks up at you as you swivel the chair around. You mouth Haechan’s name to him to which he looked genuinely confused. “Figures, I’m on my way.” He ended the call before you could even protest, swearing under your breath as you stood up to get your things together. “Why are you—actually no, since when did you and Haechan call each other?”

“I’ll explain later, I gotta go though bub, but I appreciate you studying with me.” You gave mark an apologetic smile as you packed your bag up with your laptop, making sure to grab everything you had. “Text me when you get in.” Mark had stood up from his bed, making his way over to you to gently pull you into a hug. The two of you never hugged much, the sudden affection leaving you taken aback slightly, but nevertheless you wrap your arms around him as he did you. “I’m right across the street, I’m not going rouge.” He hums, pulling back from the hug as he gives you an uneasy smile. “Yeah, I know, but you’re going with Haechan and that’s what makes me worried.”

It too made you worried, even if you didn’t exactly agree to his lil situation he proposed earlier, that nagging feeling that it wasn’t going to end well never left you every time you gave it more thought. “I’ll be fine, plus my location is on if I don’t text you by nine.” Mark only laughs as your arms drop from around him and you leave his room. It doesn’t take you long to get out the building, spitting Haechan’s car parked in front with his passenger window rolled down. He’s leaned over, a smirk across his lips while one hand grips the top of the steering wheel. “Hop in.” He says as you make your way down to his car. Once you get in, you throw your bag in his back seat and fasten your seatbelt before Haechan takes off and drives you two off campus.

“And where exactly are we going?”

Haechan doesn’t look over at you, his eyes focused on the road, but he can feel your stare on him. He was wearing a letterman jacket with a black shirt underneath and some jeans that complemented the look, it was the first time you really took in his attire and you swore he didn’t have that jacket on earlier. “Somewhere quiet we can talk, to sort everything out for the show we’re about to put on.” He’s cocky, confident and arrogant. You hated it, hated how smug he looked as the words fell from his mouth. “I haven’t even said yes yet, did that get through your thick skull?” He takes a moment to glance over at you, his mischievous expression never faulting. “You wouldn’t be in my car with me if you didn’t want to.” Fuck him for being right and fuck him for being slightly attractive when he said it. Slightly, not very or even a full hundred percent, but slightly.

He drives you two off to an abandoned looking parking lot where he puts his car into park and turns slightly to face you. “Have you thought about it enough?” You turn to face him, getting as comfortable as you can in the seat. “I guess, but you better pull through with doing half of my part of the project or else I’ll castrate you, no hesitation.” Haechan laughs, a full laugh that has his head tilting back just a bit. You’re fighting the smile that threatens to form on your lips. “You have my word, but we have more important things to go over.” He searches your face when you remain quiet, having the same look you did back at the cafe earlier, he knew you were listening. “Okay, so I was thinking our first appearance as a newly and very much in love ‘couple’ should be at the party this weekend.”

“Scratch that, I don’t party.”

“You’re gonna have to if you wanna keep up with me.” You scowl at him, rolling your eyes mentally as you give in. “Fine, but I’m not making it a habit, I have grades to keep up ya know?” He simply nods, going over the next few things y’all as a couple would have to do together in order to pull this off. Your first outing would be at the party, to much of your disapproval and the following will fall into place like dominos. You’d start having lunch together if your schedules met up, the two of you would spend time between classes together, again if your schedules met up, then you’d also have to sit beside him in your shared class. He also made mention that he’d be picking you up and dropping you off at your dorm so that you’d always be seen with him to make it believable. “Now we need to set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules? What are we, five years old?”

A memory flashes through Haechan’s mind, back to when you two were five. You had been on the playground at school by yourself and he was off on the monkey bars when you had fallen off the swing. The ground did not aid your fall, scraping your elbow and knee which resulted in a cry that not only alerted your teacher, but haechan. When get got to you, you were sniffling over the pain and the dirt on your dress, a dress that your mom bought for you for your previous birthday. “Y/n, i told you to wait for me.” Five year old Haechan pouted as he walked with you and the teacher to the nurses office. “I wanted to swing, I didn’t think I’d get hurt.” You replied, holding his hand gently. After that day, the two of you made a rule that you’d play together to make sure if something went wrong, you’d be by each other's side.

“The first rule, no one can know, not your roommate or your friends, if you have any, not even Mark.” You scoff, hitting his arm to which he whined. “For your information, I have friends and it’s not only Mark.” Haechan rubs the sore spot on his arm as he shakes his head at you. “Yeah yeah, the voices in your head don’t count.”

“Fuck you, Lee.”

“Second rule, no falling in love, not with anyone while this is going on, which goes without saying, but no hooking up either and no falling in love with me.”

“How can anyone fall in love with someone like you?” You didn’t realize the weight of your words till you watched the smile from his face fade away. Guilt washed over you in a wave, your face dropping as you see him fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. You’re about to apologize when you see his mood shift, he turns back facing the wheel and starts his car. “Yeah, anyway, two rules and that’s that.” You don’t say anything back, turning back in your seat to fasten your seatbelt. Haechan drives you back onto campus and drops you off in front of your hall. “What time is your class in the morning?” He asks as he puts his car into park. “I think it’s an eight am class, but I’ll text you when I get in.” He nods as you free yourself and get out of his car.

Heading upstairs, the phone in your hand is going off with missed messages from your group chat with your friends. You’re smiling down at them as you push your door open, only to look up and see your four friends sitting with their arms crossed. “Oh hello, did I miss something?”

“We missed you!” Yeongmin stated, sitting with her legs crossed on your bed. “Where have you been, ma’am?” Yechae asked as she gave you a knowing smile. “I was just out, jeez, I’m sorry mom.” Sin-ra giggles as she pushes out her phone for you to see. “Uh huh, and whose car was this?” All the girls ooo at you as you sit down on your bed, filling in the spot next to Yeongmin. “You watched me!” Wonchae shook her finger at you, “What else were we supposed to do when you went missing? One minute, you’re at Mark’s dorm and the next, you’re off the grid!” The four girls immediately started questioning you as you brushed off their curiosity with half-assed answers. You wanted so badly to tell them all that’s going on and the situation you had gotten yourself into, but that was one of the two rules Haechan made. No one can know.

A loud knock on the door interrupts the conversation, all of you looking at one another. “Oh, that must be our RA, I think the pizza is here.” Yeongmin gets up from your bed and goes to open the door, unexpecting the boy who was on the other side. “Hi, uhm, is y/n here?” Haechan’s voice immediately caught your attention as you scramble off your bed while the other three girls give you wide eyed looks. “I’ll get it!” Yeongmin’s grip on the door is stronger than your force of trying to push her out the way. She moves, but not enough to where you'd be blocking their view. She only steps back, opening the door even more for them all to see him standing there with your bag in hand. “Hi, sorry, I didn’t even realize I left it.”

Haechan can tell by the look on your friends' faces that they were shocked to see him there. He had an audience and he was about to put on a show. “No problem baby, you left it in my backseat.” The sudden nickname makes your stomach flip, but you weren’t about to show him that. Instead, you reach for the bag to which he moves with his hand. “Ah ah, I want a kiss goodbye first.” You immediately glare at him to which he gives you a smirk. “Not in front of my friends, silly.” The emphasis you put on the last word has Haechan smiling even wider. “Just one for the road?” With a deep breath in, you had only two options. Kiss him and get him to leave or knee him in his most valued area, but that would be too red of a flag for your friends. You take a step closer to him, standing up on your toes as you press a quick peck on his cheek. As you do so, you grab for your bag that he still was holding, your fingers brushing against his.

“Thank you, I’ll see you in the morning?” Haechan looks dumbfounded for a minute, blinking down at you with slightly parted lips. He wasn’t expecting you to actually kiss him, so for you to do so, he was a bit taken aback. “I’ll be here, goodnight babygirl.”

The show Haechan put on caused an uproar within your friend group that lasted just long enough before the three had to go back to their rooms. They were questioning everything from what the hell that was and since when were you babygirl for anyone else, but them. When you finally admitted that he was your (fake) boyfriend, they all congratulated you on your new relationship and only wished they knew about him before.

The next morning went according to your plans you and haechan texted about the night before. He picked you up, parked right in front of your dorm before your class and even stopped by and got you a drink from the Neo cafe. After he dropped you off at your first class, you didn’t see him much till your shared class where he saved you a seat. The two of you went your separate ways after he walked you to your next class and eventually he dropped you off back at your dorm. “The party starts in a few hours so I’ll text you when I’m coming by.” He said, watching as you get out of his car. “Got it, also don’t come in again, you nearly killed my friends with your little stunt you pulled.” This earned a laugh from Haechan as you shut the door and he waited till you were inside before he pulled off.

By the time you got inside your room, all your friends were already sitting on your and wonchae’s beds as they watched a movie on your shared tv. “Oh good, just in time, the movie just started!” Yechae smiled at you as she paused the movie. “Actually, I have plans, I’m so sorry.” A pout forms on your bottom lip in hope they forgive you. “Actually, do you guys wanna come with me? Haechan is taking me to a party and I don’t wanna leave you guys here.” Sin-ra was already jumping off the bed as she went straight to your closet. “A party, fucking bet!” The other three girls join in as they raid Wonchae’s closet and you text Haechan letting him know they’re coming. To your surprise, he responds with ‘the more the merrier ;)’ and you brush off the wink as you try to hide the blush that crept onto your cheeks.

Since there were so many of you and you know already you won’t all fit in Haechan’s car, the girls opt to take Yechae’s car as well and after you all get dressed, you get a text that Haechan was waiting for you out front. “Alright, he’s here, y’all ready?”

“Go ahead and send us the address, we’ll catch up.” Yeongmin gives you a playful push out your door, turning to ask her why before she shuts the door. With that, you go ahead down to his car and open his passenger door. “Hey, the girls are gonna meet us there so can you send me the address really quick?” You haven’t looked at him yet, trying to get your phone out of your pocket. Haechan, on the other hand, couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. You chose to wear an off the shoulder shirt to attempt to blend in paired with some of your nicer jeans and the exposed skin has his heart racing. “Hyuck?” Turning your attention to him, you take in his attire. Leather jacket with a white undershirt and black jeans paired with a black belt. Damn, he actually looked good.

“You look beautiful, y/n.” He sounded like he didn’t mean to say that out loud, his voice barely over a whisper, but that didn’t stop the blood rushing to your cheeks. “Thank you, not too bad yourself.” Haechan’s face was similar to yours, his cheeks a soft shade of pink. Not just from your compliment, but from how effortlessly the forgotten nickname rolled off your tongue. A few minutes felt like forever passed, the two of you staring at each other with something similar in each other's eyes. For Haechan, it looked like a longing feeling swirling around in his eyes while for you, he could see the same little girl you were back when you were kids and he wonders how much time has passed since he’s seen you like this. You’re the first to break contact, looking away awkwardly as you open your phone to Yechae’s messages. “The address?”

“Huh, I’m sorry, what did you ask for?”

“I asked you earlier for the address to the party.”

Haechan’s lips formed an o as he took the phone you handed over for him. He took the phone, this time your fingers just miss each other and you can’t deny you miss the warmth that radiates from him. After he types in the address, he hands over your phone and the two of you drive silently to the party with the music volume on low. It doesn’t take you long to arrive, people coming in and out as he opts to park up front. “Isn’t it illegal to park here, I thought this was for members only?” You’re unbuckling your seatbelt as you look through the window at the Greek letters above. “Not for me it isn’t.”

His words alone leave you slightly confused, but you get out of the car and as he walks on the other side, he has his hand out for you. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Grab it, we’re a couple, remember?” Oh yeah, you’re here as his girlfriend. Right. Hesitantly, you take your hand within his and interlock your fingers. You haven’t held his hand since you were kids, but damn did it feel right. His hand, obviously larger now, fits with yours perfectly and you shove down the butterflies that climb up your throat as the two of you go inside. The room was crowded, people everywhere leaving little room to actually get through. Haechan’s grip on your hand tightens as he guides you through the room and you can feel the stares of everyone on you as you two make your entrance. The two of you find your way through the main area and over to a slightly less crowded place where some familiar guys stand around a table playing beer pong.

“I want you to meet some guys.” He says loudly to make sure you can hear him over the music. You simply nod and stand a little closer to him as people walk past you. Haechan calls over a few guys you’ve only seen in passing, one very tall and the other slightly shorter with multi-colored hair. “Johnny, Taeyong, this is my girlfriend y/n, y/n, this is Johnny and Taeyong.” Johnny, the taller one gives you a sweet smile as he grabs your free hand and brings it to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you.” Taeyong laughs as he pats the others back. “Watch it, Haechan is giving you the death glare.” Haechan drops your hand as you shyly smile, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his hand firmly on your hip. “It’s nice to finally meet you y/n.”

“You’ve heard of me before?”

Taeyong and Johnny exchange looks as they smirk. Haechan on the other hand turns his head as he begins to blush. “Lover boy over here talked about you nonstop when we first met him, i was starting to believe you weren’t real until he told us he finally asked you out.” Taeyong’s words came to you as a shock, not believing Haechan had talked about you to anyone before. “Believe me, he’s definitely down bad for you. You got a good one, Haechan.”

“I know.” He replies with a wide smile as you turn to face him, you’re definitely going to question him on this later. “We’re gonna go get a drink, I’ll catch up with y’all later.” His hand leaves your hip, immediately intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives both boys a hug. You wave them goodbye before Haechan leads you two into the kitchen. “Want anything?” He asks, looking over the table with a variety of alcoholic drinks. “I’ll take some water, I’m not sure if I wanna drink tonight.” He simply nods, respecting your choice as he himself grabs a beer. Just as you’re about to leave, you and haechan turn to see a girl walking in with her arm wrapped around the guy she was with.

“Haechanie, I didn’t know you were coming!”

Judging by how tense Haechan felt beside you, you can only assume that this was his ex, Bomi. “Uh, yeah, I didn’t think you’d be here either.” His tone was flat, but his face was mixed with pain and uninterest. “Yeah, I came with Kai, Kai this is Haechan.” Her smile was fake, even you could see that and the guy she was holding onto gave one similar as he replied with a hey. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there, and who are you?” Her eyes looked soft, but if you looked any closer you could see the burning flame behind that glossy coat. Her lips were turned upward into a smile, but you knew she was lying between her teeth to make you seem less important, to make you feel less important.

“I’m y/n, Haechan’s girlfriend.” You said, squeezing his hand in yours. Haechan came back to his senses, looking over at you with a fond smile. You could feel his gaze on you, but you wanted to mess with his ex a little more. “Who are you? I don’t think I caught your name.” Bomi laughed, a little too loud as she threw her head back a bit. “I’m Bomi, Haechanie’s ex.”

“Oh really, never heard of you.” Your lips purse up a little as you look over at Haechan, his eyes softening when yours lock with his. You honestly could get lost in them if you didn’t realize the amount of people who were staring at you right now. Your attention turns back to Bomi and her new arm candy, her cheerful expression now long gone. “Sorry, we were just stopping for a drink, but it was nice to meet you.” And with that, you guide Haechan from the kitchen and maneuver your way around with him in hand till you reach the stairs. Haechan had silently been following you, thoughts swimming around in his head. “You know a room we can go to that’s clean?”

“Moving pretty fast now aren’t we y/n.”

“Oh shut up, just get us somewhere quiet.”

Haechan smirks as he leads the two of you upstairs, going down a hallway till he stopped at a room and pulled his eyes from his pocket. With his free hand, he unlocks the door and walks inside with your hand still in his. “I lock it when I’m out so that no one can do anything unholy to my bed.” His words register in your brain, but you’re too distracted as you look around in the room. There were vinyls plastered onto the walls, wireless headphones sitting carefully on the side table next to his bed. Haechan drops his hand from yours, furrowing his brows at the lack of warmth that reaches his fingertips while opting to sit on the bean bag across from his bed. You sit down on his bed, noticing he too was already sitting.

Patting your thighs, you take a deep breath in to collect your thoughts from all that’s happened since you two got in while Haechan looks deep in his own head. “So, she’s something.” He laughs softly, fiddling with his fingers as he stares into his lap. “Yeah, she is.”

“And you talk about me?”

Leaning back into the bean bag, he looks at you through hooded eyes. “I did when I first got accepted in, they went around asking personal questions as a bonding experience and you were all I really knew so you naturally came to mind.” You’re fighting the frown as you think about how long you two have hated each other, almost forgetting why you two grew apart for so long. “You okay, after seeing her and all?” With his lips pressed together, he simply nods as he closes his eyes. “I’ll have to be, I mean she looked pretty pissed to see you with me, so that’s a step right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” It felt very awkward to be having such a deep conversation with him, but somehow it also felt right. Your silence is interrupted when your phone starts buzzing, pulling it from your pocket and bringing it to your ear to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, we’re here, where are you guys?” Yeongmin called you, you assumed from downstairs as you can hear the faint music through one ear and the louder music through the phone in the other. You mouth to haechan that they were downstairs and ended the call telling her you were on your way. The two of you interlock your hands before going back downstairs, looking for the girls within the crowd. From the staircase, you can barely see them on the dance floor and you signal to haechan to follow you. As you make your way through the sea of bodies against bodies, you see your friends laughing and holding hands as they dance together.

“This is so much fun!” Wonchae smiled at you as she and Yechae held each other close. “If you have any more parties, invite us again!” Yeongmin and Sin-ra smiled at you and haechan, giggling to each other as their favorite song was blasting from the speakers. Haechan drops his hand, turning you around with his hands on your hips. He leans in as he pulls you against him, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Wanna dance?” There’s a faint blush on your cheeks as you simply nod, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his neck. The two of you fall into a rhythm and sway with each other for what feels like hours. After dancing for so long, you’re starting to feel the effects of the night and tell Haechan you’re ready to go home.

You lost the girls way earlier before you decided to leave, sending them a text to tell you when they make it in. Haechan leads you outside, the wind blowing slightly as you two step out of the party. You shiver slightly, rubbing your arms as you walk over to his car. Haechan notices the goosebumps on your skin, immediately taking his jacket off and throwing it over your shoulders. “You’re gonna catch a cold, take it back.” As you’re protesting, he simply shakes his head. “I’m alright for now, just keep it on so you won’t catch a cold.” The warmth of the leather silences you, walking around the front of his car and resting against the top as he stands in front of you.

“Did you at least have fun?”

“For my first college party, yeah I had fun.”

Haechan gasps as you look at him confused. “This was your first party?” You simply nod, chewing on your bottom lip before laughing softly. “As you can tell from my friends, we don’t get out much and the only other person i talk to is Mark.” Haechan steps closer to you, losing in the distance as he tilts your head towards him with his finger. “Let me at least make it memorable.” Your face is bright red as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You stay still, afraid that if you move, he’ll move and you hate to admit to yourself that you don’t want to move. His lips were soft against yours as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands reach out for him, gripping the fabric of his shirt while his hand moves from your chin to cup the side of your cheek.

Haechan was the first to break contact, pulling back as he looked down at you. “How was that for a first college party?” You shake your head, letting go of his shirt to give him a slight shove. “Take me home, idiot.” He laughs as you stand from the hood of his car and the two of you get in, driving around to your hall before you go your separate ways.

The next few weeks go by smoothly, you and haechan seem to be fooling everyone with your physical touch and playful banter when you’re out together. He sits with you when you two go to the cafeteria, eating meals together during your breaks between classes. He’ll meet you at the neo cafe and order your drink for you before you arrive and if you’re tutoring Jaemin, he’ll bring you your drink and sit with you till you’re done. He’s made it a habit to bring you to Taco Bell after your tutoring sessions are over and you two even spend time in the library working on your project, but haechan doesn’t get much work done before he’s bugging you for attention. After all these years, you almost forgot how touchy he is, always grabbing your hand or resting his head on your shoulder and vice versa. The two of you have everyone fooled, even Mark.

“I still can’t wrap my head around you and haechan, I mean one day you were seconds away from ripping his throat out and now you’re giggling at his texts.”

You sheepishly smile as the two of you walk back to his dorm, holding your bag in your hand as you think how much has changed between you and Haechan. Even when you’re alone, he acts no different. He still grabs your hand, plays with your hair, complements you every morning and smiles at you as if every day was the first day you saw each other. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel any different towards him, but you always push those feelings down and remember how you got here. He wants her back, he doesn’t want you, and every time you think of them two wrapped up in each other's arms like how he does with you, it hurts a little more than it should.

“I guess people change, I mean we were friends for a while when we were kids, that played into it too.” You were being truthful, reminiscing on the crush you had on Haechan growing up. Never in a million years would you have told him that, but in a way you also never were given the chance to. Now, here you are with those same harbored feelings and still don’t have a clue with what to do with them. After this is all over, he’ll leave your life once again and you’ll be left to fill the void that no one has ever come close to when it comes to him. “Yeah, I’m just saying, it’s a little weird to me, but I’m happy that you’re happy.” You give Mark a playful shove as you two walk inside his hall and go up to his room. You and Mark haven’t had much time together since you and Haechan started ‘dating’ and today was one of the days you two planned on studying in silence till you both grew bored and ended up listening to music.

“What’s on the agenda today? I got a psych essay to get out of the way.”

“I have some more lab work to go over, but I’m essay free.”

Mark opens his door for you and follows behind as you set your bag down beside his desk. The two of you go about doing your work as your phone starts to buzz on the desktop. Picking it up, you see you have missed texts from Haechan and a few missed calls. Just as you’re about to call him back, his name pops across your screen. Swiping across your phone, you bring it to your ear. “Hey, I’m so sorry my phone was on silent and I just now—“

“Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you by your last class for hours.”

Judging by his tone, he seems annoyed. You felt guilty, forgetting to text him before you met up with Mark to let him know of your plans. “I’m so sorry, Mark and I met up and were studying in his room.” Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes if you could see him. “I’m on my way, meet me in the car.” With that, he hung up as you let out a sigh. “Who was that?” You’re packing up your bags as you look over at the window. It’s raining outside and it doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up anytime soon. “Haechan, he called and wanted me to meet him outside, i kinda forgot to tell him I was coming with you and he’s kinda upset.” Mark gave you an apologetic smile to which you returned. “Be careful out there and don’t worry, I doubt he’s that mad, okay?”

You simply nod and bid him a goodbye before leaving his room and heading downstairs. When you go out the front doors, Haechan is already parked out front and you hold your bag to your chest to protect it from getting soaked as you run down to his car and quickly get inside. Haechan was gripping the wheel as he stared down at his lap, not looking your way once as you shut the door as you got in and placed your bag between your legs rather than in the back seat. “You okay hyuck?”

Haechan was quiet, you knew he was upset, but you’re starting to think there were underlying reasons as to why. “Why didn’t you tell me you were with Mark.” You bite your lip, furrowing your brows as you reach over to touch him. “I said i was sorry, it completely slipped my mind and I didn’t mean to not tell you, he just asked me if we could hang out since we haven’t recently.”

“How hard is it to send a simple text, y/n?” He definitely was pissed, his knuckles turning an off shade of white with how tight he was gripping the wheel. “Why are you so mad, you know Mark, it wasn’t like I was out with someone random?”

“I’m pissed because I had someone come up to me asking why my girlfriend was walking off giggling with some guy, you ever think of that?”

He’s unbelievable, he’s literally unbelievable. The nagging feeling that this whole situation wasn’t going to end well resurfaces without hesitation, leaving you with a sense of deja vu. “Fake girlfriend, did you forget that?” Haechan laughs, not a genuine laugh, but a laugh that almost felt forced. “You’re right, how could I forget, I mean you’ve done it before so I’m not surprised you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what exactly, donghyuck.”

“Stealing Mark away, taking all of his precious time and acting as if I don’t exist.” His words hit you hard, bringing you back to the day you two first parted ways. When Haechan first introduced you and Mark, there was no doubt in his mind that you two would get along and he was looking forward to spending his days with both of his closest friends, but even at such a young age, jealousy got the best of him. Upon meeting, you and Mark clicked as if you were meant to be friends, talking and laughing together while Haechan stood silently and felt lonely. He didn’t like how quickly you got along with Mark, he didn’t like how much he hated bringing you two together, he especially didn’t like how much resentment he felt towards you even if he didn’t know what he was feeling.

He told you he hated you that day, out of anger and hurt. Not once did he mean it, in fact there were so many times he had wished he never said it and turned the clocks back to keep him from hurting you so badly. The damage had already been done, tears falling down your young cheeks when he told you he had never wanted to be your friend again. You were confused, hurt and overall overwhelmed with the events that happened that day, but you turned your sadness into the same hatred he said he had for you and from then, the two of you never had a nice thing to say about one another. Now here you were, sitting in his car with the hopes of you two finally making progress gone.

“I don’t steal his time, he gives it to me, but you wouldn’t know that because you force people to be around you.” You didn’t mean it, you didn’t even want to say it, but haechan was prideful and used his words to hurt others when he was hurting and you weren’t going to let him win again. “Did you forget that I’m your first actual boyfriend and I’m not even dating you, it’s kind of pathetic you had to get a fake boyfriend to even know what it’s like to have one.” You didn’t realize when you started crying or why you were crying in the first place. Maybe it was because you were angry, angry that he was angry at you over something so little and so stupid. Maybe it was because he hurt you and continues to hurt you over and over and the lines between what was real and what was fake have been blurred.

“Fuck you haechan, I mean honestly, I thought maybe you’d change, maybe the boy i knew then was still there.” He still wasn’t looking at you, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes and see the damage he’s done. “Maybe you didn’t know me at all.” He knew it before you said it, that everything the two of you had been building up to for nearly a month was all over. He didn’t want to believe till you said it, but deep down he knew. “Fuck this, fuck your stupid little plan to get your shitty ex back and fuck you.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and got out of his car, leaving Haechan with his thoughts and the tears that slid down his cheeks as he watched you walk away. Part of you wanted to go back inside to Mark’s room, but that would mean you’d have to explain everything and that was all too much for you to unpack right now. Instead, you walked back to your hall, soaking from head to toe by the time you made it to your room. Wonchae was sitting in her bed when you came in, immediately questioning you why you were soaking wet, but when she realized you were crying, she took you into her arms and held you till you settled down.

That night all the girls came over and stayed with you till you cried yourself to sleep. You had come clean to them all, telling them about the pretend dating to help him get his ex back all the way to your childhood with Haechan and even the fallout of your friendship. You even told them about the feelings you were harboring, sobbing through your broken words. They tried to reassure you, telling you that they believed there was something real between you and Haechan, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe them, not after what you just went through with him. Thankfully for you, it was a weekend and you didn’t have classes till the following Monday and that meant you didn’t have to try and avoid him as much as possible.

By the beginning of the week, you do your best to dodge him in any way. You stopped going to the Neo cafe for the first week, Sin-ra taking the initiative to bring you your drink every morning before your first class. In the class you shared with him, at first you’d sit in the very back to avoid being near him and people quickly took notice. It wasn’t long before whispers started going around that you two had broken up and Mark was a part of some of the rumors. When he got wind of everything, you told him the same thing you told your friends and he apologized to you for everything. After so many years, he finally knew why you and Haechan stopped being friends and he felt responsible for that, but you reassured him that there was nothing he could’ve done then or now.

It was nearing your last week for your project and you’re sitting in your shared class with Haechan who was nowhere to be seen. As you’re leaving when the professor tells everyone class was dismissed, your professor stops you and asks you to stay behind. “I wanted you to know that Donghyuck already submitted his portion of the project, so I’ll only need the remaining 25% from you.” You’re confused and it’s evident on your face as you grip the bag over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but we agreed to split it down the middle, what did he submit already?”

“Are you sure? He emailed me this morning and submitted the essay portion and said you’d do the final draft on the slide presentation. Get with him and let me know before the deadline.” You simply nod and bid him a farewell as you leave your last class for the day. There are so many thoughts in your head as you pull your phone from your pocket and just as you’re about to text Haechan, you bump into someone on your way out. “Oh I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, I’m so—y/n?”

When you look up from your phone, you see Johnny standing in front of you. He was a little taken aback to see you, but still happy that he ran into you. “Oh hey, what’s up?” The two of you make small talk as you stand outside the building, chatting about the little things in life. “Oh before I forget, you’re coming to the party tonight right?” You’re unsure what to tell him, your silence leaving open room to answer. “It’s okay if you can’t make it, Haechan said you two were working on a big project so I get why you haven’t been around, but if you come tonight we’d be happy to have you.” Hearing Haechan’s name felt almost foreign, having neither your friends or Mark even uttering his name over these last few weeks. “I’ll see if i can make it.” Johnny gives you a genuine smile before heading off and you two go your own ways. When you make it back to your hall, Wonchae and Yechae are sitting on Wonchae’s bed as they watch a movie on her laptop.

“Wanna watch the movie with us, I can put it on the tv?” You smile at Yechae’s offer, but simply shake your head. “I’m gonna go to sleep instead, thank you though.” You slip underneath your blanket and lay in bed till your eyes get too heavy to keep open anymore. You’re not sure what time it was when your phone starts going off, waking you from your peaceful sleep. Your fumble as you sit up in bed, grabbing your phone from your side table. Through tired eyes, you see an unknown number calling you and hesitantly, you slide across your phone to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/n, we need you here! Haechan is whining for you.” You recognize Johnny’s voice, the mention of Haechan’s name sending a rush of adrenaline through your body. “Where is he?” You try to be as quiet as you can, looking over at Wonchae and Yechae cuddling silently in her bed. “He’s upstairs, I kind of lost him when I was busy cleaning up his puke, but I managed to snatch his phone before he disappeared to call you.” With a heavy sigh, you climb out of bed and throw on a sweatshirt before telling Johnny you’re on your way. Without a car, you’d have to walk all the way to the frat house where the party was thrown, but it’d take too long for you to get there so you opt to run instead as you mentally thank yourself for taking track one year in high school.

As you’re reaching the doors to the house, you’re panting and out of breath while dragging yourself inside. Pretty much everyone was gone and the scattered cups on the ground gave you an idea of how the night went. Johnny was crouched down picking things up off the floor when you walked in, looking your way as you tried to catch your breath. “Oh hey y/n, you okay? You look kind of..sweaty.” You shook your head as your hands rested on your hips, taking in slow deep breaths to steady your breathing. “Where is he?” You were here to find Haechan, as much as you wanted to make small talk with Johnny, you were too tired to even try. “Check his room, Taeyong should still be up there with him.” Nodding, you drag your feet towards the staircase and tiredly make your way to the top. Going solely off memory, you walk down the hallway till you’re standing in front of Haechan’s room. From inside, you can hear faint crying and Taeyong’s voice.

Pushing the door open gently, you see Haechan sitting on his bed with a cup of water in his hand while Taeyong is sitting beside him. When he noticed your entrance, Taeyong stood up from the bed and silently walked towards you. He placed his hand gently on your shoulder before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him. You stood in the middle of the room, staring at the boy who was silently sniffling as he stared down at his cup in his hand. “Do you have your keys, I can bring you to your room if you do.” He simply shook his head, gripping the cup in his hand. A sigh left your lips as you turned to his closet, rummaging through his clothes. “W-what are you doing?” You pull a shirt off a hanger, walking over to him. “You can’t sleep in that, it has liquids on it.” Haechan stays still, as if he was frozen in time. His body shook slightly every time he hiccuped, but he didn’t bother moving.

“Get changed please, I’ll leave so you can—“

“Please don’t leave me.”

You’re biting your bottom lip as you see his head rise, meeting his swollen and teary eyes. “Just for tonight, I just need you tonight.” He looked so sad, tears dried on his cheeks as he fought back the tears. You should’ve left, hell you shouldn’t have even come, but you needed to make sure he was okay and from the looks of it, he was far from it. “I’ll turn around, but you need to get out of your clothes and into something to sleep in.” Silently, he stands from his bed and sets the cup on his desktop. You handed him the shirt you grabbed from his closet, walking towards the door and facing away so that he could get dressed. After a few minutes pass, Haechan tells you he’s done and you turn around to him laying in his bed on one side, leaving space for you on the other.

Walking over after turning off the light, you pull back the blanket and slide into the space he’s left you. The two of you lay in silence, the moonlight shining through the cracks of his window cover. “I’m sorry.” Haechan’s voice was barely over a whisper, but neither of you could bring it to look at each other. “You’re drunk, you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You could feel how tense he was beside you, if you reached out to him you were afraid he’d fall apart. “I’m sober enough to know what I'm saying and I need you to believe me on that.” You shift onto your side, tucking your underneath his pillow as your eyes fall to the side of his face. He can feel your gaze on him, waiting for him to continue. “I didn’t mean anything I said that day, even back when we were kids.

“I was jealous of your friendship with Mark, in a way I still am because he’s been by your side this whole time and because of my insecurities, I missed all of that.” You knew he had a hard time believing in people after he had been let down many times before, you understood where he was coming from, but that doesn’t justify his actions. “I’m sorry you had to come out here at this hour, I don’t remember much of what I said to the boys, but it was enough for them to call you and for that, i'm sorry for wasting your time.”

The light coming from his window was just enough for you to see the tear that slid from his eye down the side of his face. “Was she here tonight?” You knew it was none of your business, you had no right to be asking him this, but part of you needed to know. “Yeah.”

“Did you guys get back together, I mean that was the whole point of this right?”

Haechan turns on his side to face you, tucking his arm underneath his head to prop himself up to your eye level. “She tried, but I told her it was over when she left me for that guy.” You’re a bit taken aback, why did he turn her down? What was the point of all of this if it was not for him to win her back. “Why, didn’t you want her back?” Haechan’s eyes locked with yours, searching them for something to give him the confidence to go on. He could see it in your eyes, but for so long he had been too scared to ruin what you two were building. “Spending this time with you blurred everything around me y/n, she was what I thought I wanted, but it wasn’t till I lost you that I knew what I needed instead.”

You felt speechless, staring at him with parted lips. He had just confessed that you were what he wanted and that alone made your head feel dizzy. Now lies the difficult decision, to lie and pretend you don’t feel anything to protect yourself or run to him and trust that he’ll protect you instead and all the love you have in your heart for him. “Say something please.” Hesitantly, you bring a hand up to his face, brushing his hair back to get the best view of him as possible. “Looks like we have a problem.”

“And that is?”

“I broke one of the two rules we made, well technically I broke them both but the first rule was broken after you were an asshole.” Haechan sat up, propping himself on his elbow as he stared down at you. “Does that mean I can kiss you?” A smile spreads across his lips as he watches the light reflect in your eyes. You give him a nod, all the confirmation he needed to lean down and capture your lips within his. The kiss felt familiar, like he had done this a million times before. Your arm wraps around his neck, pulling him close to you as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. The two of you healed a part of you that was long overdue, the two best friends within you now reunited. Now that you’re older, you not only have your best friend back, but the young boy you loved is too there beside you.

so for starters if you’ve gotten this far, why thank you pook 🥹i’m really sorry if the ending feels rushed, i’ve never written something this long before so i was struggling i tell ya🥲🫂 and i just wanna say ily and you’re doing great and if you liked it,, pls lmk! it always helps when you share your thoughts w me 🫶

971 notes · View notes

munsonsmixtapes · 9 months ago

Text

Lost Number pt. I

Here’s Part 2!

Word count: 19k

Paring: Eddie Munson x plus size!fem!reader

CW: 18+ MDNI smut, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving)

Rhythm Riot Music Festival, Los Angeles, June, 1990

The venue was packed and if you were honest, you didn’t even want to be there. You were just trying to be a good girlfriend and cheer on your wannabe rockstar boyfriend. You never liked big crowds and the loud music gave you a headache, but you wanted to be supportive so you always stood side stage with a pair of earplugs, singing along.

Being the band’s manager, you somehow were able to book them a slot in a festival that was meant specifically for rock/metal. They were playing alongside a bunch of big names and your own boyfriend didn’t even seem grateful that you had gotten him the biggest gig of his career.

You didn’t want to admit it, but your relationship had been rocky for months. You were together but you weren’t. It was as if you both knew it was over but neither of you wanted to be the first to actually utter the words. He wasn’t the same man you fell in love with. You didn’t recognize him anymore with the way he was dressing and especially the way he was treating you and his own band mates. You would try to talk to him about it but were always met with doors slamming in your face or just straight up denial.

You paced back and forth in the hallway outside their dressing room while the band were getting ready for their performance. You weren’t allowed in because you were deemed a “distraction” despite the fact that Chris barely even spared you a second glance anymore. You were forced to wait until it was time for them to go onstage to make sure they had everything they needed even though most of the time they didn’t and they ended up being late.

One of the acts passed you having just come off stage and you couldn’t keep your eyes off the pretty lead singer as he nodded in your direction. You figured that would be it, but he stopped in front of you and you didn’t miss how he was checking you out. He crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his lips.

You had only ever seen Eddie Munson on TV or in magazines which didn’t do him justice. He was much prettier in person which you didn’t think was possible, but there he stood in front of you looking like something that came out of your dreams. He was dressed in a leather jacket with nothing underneath and pair of matching leather pants and you had to stop yourself from staring at his chest and the tattoos that were covering it. Even though Chris wasn’t really your boyfriend anymore, you’d never forgive yourself for cheating on him.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here by yourself?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side.

Before you could answer, the door behind him opened and the members of Void stepped out. Your boyfriend looked between you and Eddie and felt jealousy rush through him. He didn’t care if the two of you were practically broken up, you were still his and there was no way that he’d let Eddie fucking Munson steal you away from him.

“Hey baby,” he greeted you with a bright smile. He’d never called you that throughout your entire relationship. He hadn’t really called you anything except for your name. “It’s time for us to go onstage.” Honestly, you couldn’t have given less of a fuck about him. All you cared about was the absolute smoke show in front of you.

“I’ll see you after?” Chris asked, stepping over to stand next to you. He took one of your shoulder in his hand and turned you to face him before resting his hands on your waist.

“Yeah-“ you couldn’t even finish before his lips were on yours. He was quick to stick his tongue in your mouth which caught you off guard. He hadn’t kissed you like that in a long time and you wondered what had gotten into him. This was all about him. All for show. To send Eddie a message, to show him that you belonged to Chris.

You were quick to pull away, unsure of what he was doing and why he was doing it. Because it clearly wasn’t for you like he wanted you to believe. That was who he was now, the kind of guy who did things only because they would benefit him in some way.

“Uh, have a good show,” was all you were able to say. You were trying to say the right thing, knowing that the wrong one wouldn’t end well for you. He was becoming so sensitive, like you had to say or do just the right thing or else he would get angry. One wrong move and it was game over for everyone.

“That’s it?” He asked a little too loudly. “You push me away and that’s all you have to say?” He was the one who kissed you out of nowhere and he was the one who was upset?

“I-“ You tried to defend yourself but he cut you off be for you could.

“Save it. I have to get on stage. You better have a better attitude when I get back,” he pointed at you before heading to the stage, the others following close behind. You knew you should have gone with him, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Especially when most of the songs were about a relationship that you didn’t have anymore. It just reminded you of what used to be and it broke your heart that you two had grown apart so much when you were convinced that you were going to be together forever. You had laid side by side talking about how you were going to get married and now you couldn’t even remember the last time you slept in the same bed.

“Where the hell are you going?” Eddie asked Chris as he made his way to the stage. You were so in your head that you had forgotten he was even there. He wasn’t going to let Chris get away with speaking to you that way. Eddie wasn’t a saint by any means, but he’d never speak to anyone that way. Especially not his girlfriend. Chris only flipped him off not even bothering to turn around to face him. He disappeared around the corner and Eddie just let out a sigh, accepting defeat.

He turned to you to see how you were holding up and could see by the look on your face that you were tired. Whether it was because of lack of sleep or because of your dickhead of a boyfriend he didn’t know.

“I know he’s your boyfriend and all but his band fucking sucks.”

“I know,” you nodded, leaning against the wall. You hated that he was right. You tried to be supportive of Chris, but you just couldn’t. Sure, the lyrics were catchy, but they weren’t really about anything. At first, they wrote some of the most beautiful things you’d ever heard, but after they got that first check, it was like a switch was flipped. Now all they wanted was to write music that they thought people wanted to hear, not songs that actually meant anything. That would mean that they actually had to care about their work and weren’t just wanting to be paid.

That was what made Void different from the other bands in their genre. The others actually believed in their music. They poured their hearts and souls into it and it was obvious when people listened to it. It was the reason why they were all so popular. People could connect to what they were singing about and could relate to the words in one way or another.

After a while, all Void wanted was the fame, money, and girls and it showed. They never rehearsed before going on stage anymore or made sure that their instruments were tuned properly. The only reason why they even got the gig in the first place was because you had to practically beg the people who were running the event. How could you root for them when they were so bad that you had to ask for them to be invited to play?

“And no offense sweetheart, but he’s kind of a dick,” Eddie added. That was something you still weren’t able to admit to yourself. Gone was the man who’d make you breakfast in the morning and make up songs about how much he loved you while he did it. Gone was the man who you felt like you could tell anything to and he wouldn’t judge you. He was behaving like a completely different person and you felt like you couldn’t even be around him anymore.

“None taken,” you shook your head. “I’m very well aware. I plan on breaking up with him after the festival.” You actually hadn’t thought about it at all but now that you said it, you felt like you had to go through with it. You felt like you owed that to yourself. You had dealt with Chris’s bullshit long enough.

“Good for you,” he nodded. “I’d hate for you to settle.” He’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you. Typical Eddie wanting something he couldn’t have. You were just so pretty and he tried to keep himself from admiring the way your outfit hugged every curve of your body.

“Well, unfortunately, I think I’m only attracted to losers.”

“That’s a real shame, sweetheart. I thought we had something going here,” he nudged your shoulder. His tone made it sound like he was joking but there was a hint of truth to his words. He had every intention of flirting with you until he found out you had a boyfriend.

“I didn’t think I was your type.”

“I didn’t think I had one.” Eddie wasn’t aware he had a type. How could he when he had only recently been getting female attention? He was still trying to figure out why women were even interested in him in the first place so who was he to deny any of it?

“Oh, you know what I mean.” You waved your hand in a dismissive manner and he didn’t like what you were implying.

“Clearly, I don’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowing. You hadn’t meant to offend him. You thought you were just stating the obvious. You’d only seen him with girls who looked nothing like you. They were all skinny not to mention literal models. You clearly didn’t fit into that category so you didn’t see why he would have been interested in you. It wasn’t like you cared. It wasn’t like anything would come of it even if he did.

“I’ve seen you on the covers of all the gossip magazines, okay? I know what you’re like.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You really believe that bullshit? You know that everything’s fake. I mean, sure, I was hanging out with those girls and maybe I slept with a couple of them, but that doesn’t mean that they’re the only kind of girls I’m interested in.”

“Then what are you interested in?”

“Anything.” He stepped closer to you but still kept his distance, not wanting to push your boundaries.

“Even me?” You hadn’t meant to say that out loud but you were just too curious. If you were being honest, you had developed a little crush on the singer and had even made him your hall pass, that Chris had agreed on if he could have Whitney Houston. That was only because he never thought it would happen. But there Eddie was, shamelessly flirting with you and you couldn’t get yourself to do the same because you felt like you were betraying Chris.

“Oh, especially you, sweetheart. In this little thing?” He referred to your skirt. “Stopped me in my tracks.” Your face grew hot at his comment. You hadn’t been flirted with in a while and missed the way it felt to have someone actually be attracted to you. You wondered why you were even still with Chad when you had a man who was the total package right in front of you.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.” You couldn’t tell whether or not he was actually being genuine or if he was just trying to get into your pants. Either way, you were going to take it. You just wanted attention and here he was, offering it up to you on a silver platter.

“If I was trying to make you feel better, I’d tell you how fucking gorgeous I think you are.” His eyes trailed down your body, taking his time to look at every inch of it and you didn’t miss how he spent a longer time on your legs. “Well, sweetheart, I should get back to my dressing room. It was nice to meet you-“ he paused, realizing that he hadn’t gotten your name.

“Y/n,” you replied, putting your hand out to shake unsure of why you were doing it.

“Y/n,” he repeated, taking his time with each syllable while taking your hands in his. “Sounds like a great song name,” he winked before reluctantly pulling his hand away. “Anyway, I’ll catch you later, alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” you nodded and he turned on his heel to head back to his dressing room. You watched him walk away until he disappeared around the corner, wondering how he managed to even make walking look attractive.

You pressed yourself against the wall and fiddled with the pass that was hanging around your neck while Void was finishing up their set, wondering what the fuck just happened. You had just had a conversation with Eddie Munson and you didn’t sound like an idiot like you thought you would have if you had ever gotten the chance to meet him. He liked you and had even flirted with you and you hadn’t done the same in fear that your boyfriend would have found out. You didn’t know why you cared. Chris would have jumped at the chance to sleep with his celebrity crush and you were still faithful to him despite the fact that you knew that he was probably (definitely) cheating on you.

Your ears perked up as Chris announced that they were going to play their last song which just so happened to be their most popular. You wondered what people would have said if they found out that you wrote it despite not having any credit on the song at all. Chris had found the lyrics in your notebook and passed them off as his own in a writing session. You didn’t want to embarrass him so you called him out as soon as you were alone with him, but he couldn’t have given less of a fuck that he had hurt you.

Not only had he invaded your privacy by going through your private journal, he had given the song away which had ended up on their debut record and had quickly become their most popular song to date. There was something so sick and twisted about him profiting off of a song that you had written about how horribly he had treated you. He used your pain and turned it into something that would make him money while you hadn’t seen a single dime. It had gotten to the point where you couldn’t even be proud of it because it was tainted by your greedy boyfriend and his bandmates.

You headed to the dressing room and sat on the couch, awaiting the band’s arrival. If you didn’t, they were more than likely to leave without you, you practically being an afterthought to them. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you knew that it wouldn’t have made any difference if you weren’t there. All of your suggestions were always met by vetos because God forbid a woman actually had a good idea. They treated you like their servant and you were starting to wonder why you had stayed so long. It certainly wasn’t the money since they weren’t paying you and it definitely wasn’t because of your piece of shit boyfriend.

It was about time that you stood up for yourself and did things that you actually wanted to do. You didn’t want to get their coffee or cigarettes or hem their pants because they were too long. You were over restringing their guitars and tuning them only for them to need new strings and another tune after one performance. You were tired of them taking advantage of you and you weren’t going to take it any longer. Void could find another manager, one who was more cut out for the job. And Chris could certainly find another woman to satisfy his needs. He wouldn’t miss you and you definitely wouldn’t miss him.

The door swung open and Chris entered the room followed by Joey and Max. They were all laughing about something but it quickly came to a stop when they locked eyes on you. You could see Chris’s eyes form into a glare. It was the kind of look that someone would give their enemy, not their significant other.

“What are you doing here?” He spit. Like he didn’t want you there and you knew he didn’t. He never wanted you around unless it benefitted him.

“I was waiting on you.” His eyebrows furrowed at your words as if he was confused. You always waited for him to get off stage, you just didn’t do it in his dressing room.

“Why?” The words came out like he was offended which you thought was weird. Why wouldn’t he want you to wait for him? He used to love coming back to you but now he was treating you as if you were a piece of gum that got stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“To tell you that I quit.” You crossed your arms over your chest and you kind of liked that he was getting angry. It showed how much he relied on you and how fucked he was going to be when you were gone.

“Quit?” He let out a laugh as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. “You can’t just quit, y/n. We have a contract.” Did he mean the contract that he typed up one night when he drunkenly suggested that you should be Void’s manager? Back when he still thought you had good ideas. Back when he still loved you.

“Which isn’t legally binding so I can quit if I damn well please and I do.” You stood up from the couch with a newfound confidence, feeling a thousand pounds lighter. “Also, I’m breaking up with you.” The three boys’ mouths dropped open, like they couldn’t believe what you were saying. Chris’s eyes quickly turned dark, a look that always scared you.

“No you’re not,” he let out a chuckle. He wasn’t going to let you leave. You couldn’t. Not when he still had laundry that needed to be done and his guitar needed to be tuned.

“I am, actually. I’m leaving tonight and getting on the first plane out of here.” You had no idea how you were going to do that, but you were going to figure it out. You needed to get the fuck out of there and you needed to do it right then.

“With what money?” He laughed and Joey and Max joined in, the three of them laughing hysterically at you. For once, you didn’t feel embarrassed.

“Oh, believe me, I can find some.” You were sure that there were plenty of nice men in the city who would be happy to lend you some money.

“This is bullshit,” he shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. He was angry and for the first time, you didn’t care that you had upset him. It was what he deserved for being a piece of shit.

“No, whats bullshit is how long I stood by your side taking your terrible treatment.” You shook your head. “I’ve been nothing but loyal to you while you’ve been fucking other girls behind my back.”

“I-“ He eyes were darting around the room as if he was he was avoiding making eye contact with you. He definitely was. You were right and he didn’t want to admit it. He was a selfish prick and had been too caught up in his own life to see how terribly he had treated you. Maybe if he could have apologized, you’d would’ve stayed.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I saw the Polaroids. Not only that, but I’m fucking tired of being treated like garbage. I’m a human. Did you forget that? You must have since all I seem to be to you is a servant. You’re a dick and so are you,” you pointed to the other boys. “Well, good luck, you guys. You’re gonna need it.” You grabbed your purse and made your way to the door and slammed it as soon as you were out of the room.

Before you realized what you were doing, you were heading to the bathroom in angry stomps, muttering to yourself about what had just happened. He had laughed at you when you told him that you were going to leave. The only reason why you didn’t have any money was because he had used up any little bit you had. Whether it was asking to borrow a twenty before he was supposed to be paid or just straight up stealing it from your wallet, you never seemed to have enough for yourself.

You shut yourself in one of the stalls and before you could stop it, tears were streaming down your face. Whether they were of happiness or sadness you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were relieved. You felt a huge weight lift from your shoulders. It was like you could finally breathe again, as if Chad had been suffocating you all those years. You were finally free and there was nothing he could do to stop you or make you stay.

You reached for some toilet paper only to find that the roll was empty, the only thing left being the cardboard. That only made you cry harder. Couldn’t you have anything? You had barely any money to your name to get a flight home, no where to go after the festival since you shared an apartment with Chris, and no friends that were your own. You were fucked and it was finally settling in. Maybe if you begged, he’d let you stay with him just until you got back on your feet. Fat chance. He’d probably already have someone else by the time you got back home with your stuff at the curb while the two of them laughed at you from the open window.

You exited the stall and reached for a paper towel before dabbing at your tears then fixing your smudged makeup with what you had in your purse, making sure there were no remnants of your tears. You’d be damned if anyone saw you cry. Especially over a man. You wanted them all to think you weren’t affected. You wanted them to think that you were nothing but a bad bitch.

After you fixed your hair and makeup, you fled the bathroom before taking the band’s car to head back to the hotel. You were surprised that they hadn’t left yet and were even more surprised that the driver had believed you when you told him that the band told you to go ahead.

You looked out the window and tried not to think all of the problems you caused for yourself. Maybe that was why you stayed with Chris for so long. Not because you wanted to make it work, but because you were scared of what it meant for your future. Now you actually had to think about it and hated how much he had fucked up for you. Of course you had moved into his apartment so you had nowhere to go when you finally got home. You supposed that you could live in your car until you got a job and saved enough to find somewhere to live more permanently. That was, if you actually found a way to get home. All you had was five hundred dollars to your name, which you were grateful to have anything, but that would have only covered your flight, not leaving much for anything else you were going to need.

The car pulled up to the hotel and you felt the tears fall again as you entered the building. You held it all in until you got to the elevator. Once the doors closed, you collapsed to the floor and let it all out, grateful that you were the only one there. You let out a loud scream out of frustration and felt relief rush through you as you did so. It was almost therapeutic in a way. It was years of repressed emotions that you were finally able to feel. You had bottled them up for so long that you were sure that they had to come out eventually and here they were, finally being able to breathe.

You exited the elevator when it stopped on your floor, wiping the tears from your face, grateful that no one else had been in the hallway. You opened the door to your room, still pissed that you had to share with Chris because you didn’t have enough money for your own room. You threw your bag onto the bed and frantically packed up your belongings into your suitcase, practically tearing the room apart partially in anger and partially because you couldn’t even find anything in the pig sty that Chris had created.

You rifled through the drawers on your side of the bed, finding all of your smaller belongings like your sleep mask and vibrator which you hadn’t even gotten a chance to use because Chris had always been in the room. You sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to satisfy you so you had to take matters into your own hands. Not that he ever satisfied you when you did sleep together.

You went through the drawers on the other side and stopped when you came across an envelope underneath Chris’s journal. You pulled it out of the drawer and noticed that your name was written on it in your mother’s neat handwriting. You turned it over and to your surprise, it wasn’t opened. You ripped it open and noticed a bunch of bills sitting inside it. It had to be hundreds of dollars. Hundreds of dollars that belonged to you. It was the money your parents had said they were going to send because they knew you had been struggling. It was your money and he took it, not even bothering to tell you that it had actually been sent. You had gotten into multiple arguments with your parents over it and now you felt bad for getting upset with them. It seemed like all of your problems always led back to Chris.

You pulled the cash out of the envelope and counted it, realizing that it had been much more than you had anticipated and you were grateful that it was all actually there. You set the cash on top of the drawer and turned the envelope back over only to see that it had been addressed to your old apartment meaning that Chris had been holding onto it for at least six months before the two of you had moved into your new place.

You put the cash back into the envelope and threw it into your purse before putting the journal back where it belonged and closing the drawer. When you went on your first date with Chris, you never thought he’d turn into such a dick. He had been sweet and caring and would have called out the man you just broke up with. He always hated guys like that so you weren’t sure what had happened that made him become one. Was it your fault? No, it couldn’t have been. What had you done except love him unconditionally?

It was late so you decided to head to bed, setting an alarm on the clock so you could get to the airport to catch a flight before Chris even woke up. He didn’t deserve a goodbye. You never wanted to see him again and if you had anything to do with it, you wouldn’t.

You threw on some pajamas and brushed your teeth, enjoying having the room to yourself since all Chris seemed to want to do was talk to you about shit that you could have not given less of a fuck about or made comments about what you were wearing or how you did your hair.

Since you had gotten to the room first, you decided that you were going to take the bed, the couch having done a number on your back having slept on it multiple nights in a row. It was just as soft at you thought it would be and you laid your head on the pillow feeling exhausted from the events that had taken place in only a matter of a few hours. You deserved a good night’s sleep after all the shit you had been through in the past twenty four hours.

Eddie entered the dressing room where Jeff, Gareth, and Doug were all sitting on the couch, the three of them still sweating from their performance and they each were nursing a beer. They all turned to Eddie whose cheeks were tinted a light red and a smile was playing on his pretty pink lips. He pressed himself against the door and stuck his hands into his pockets, staring at his band members as they all waited for him to speak, wanting to know if he got a number or not.

“Well?” Jeff asked since he knew the others wouldn’t. The four of them still weren’t used to female attention.

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Eddie sighed pushing himself off of the door and heading over to the vanity to fix his hair.

“Damn,” Gareth replied.

“Sorry man,” Doug added.

“I was so close to flirting with her when her piece of shit boyfriend came out of his dressing room. I could see the way he was looking at me,” he moved his hair this way and that, trying to make it look like less of a mess but he was sure that he was making it worse. “He was clearly threatened. Even stuck his tongue down her throat to send me a message. He was looking at me the whole time.”

“What a freak,” Gareth commented.

“And get this,” Eddie stopped messing with his hair and turned around to face the boys, resting his hands on the vanity and leaning against it. “He’s the lead singing of Void.”

“They’re a shit show,” Jeff shook his head.

“I know. Their only good song is Hurt and I heard that they didn’t even write it.”

“Not surprising,” Doug rolled his eyes. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I heard that they weren’t even invited and that their manager had to beg to let them play.”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie let out a laugh, leaning over as he did so, probably thinking that it was more funny than it probably was. “That’s fucking hilarious.”

“And probably true,” Jeff pointed out.

“So what are you going to do about the girl?” Gareth asked. Eddie didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know he was supposed to something. You were in a relationship and he definitely wasn’t going to get in the middle of it, especially not when Chris seemed to not be able to control his anger and could have easily knocked Eddie out with one punch.

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “She’s just a pretty girl, you know? There are plenty of those everywhere.” That was just what he was telling himself so he’d feel better. He felt bad for thinking it, but it pissed him off that guys like Chris got to have you while guys like Eddie had no one. Sure, being in the lead singer in a band helped him in the ladies department, but girls didn’t seem nearly as attracted to him as they were to guys who treated them like garbage. Was he not mean enough? Was that it? Did women just like assholes? Maybe he should have asked Chris since clearly there was something that he was missing.

“I know that’s right,” Doug went to high five him and Eddie ignored him, pushing off of the vanity. He began to pace, something he always did when he needed to think.

Now it all made sense. Of course they were only performing because their manager begged. No one in their right mind would have asked Void to perform and they certainly wouldn’t have done it willingly. It was putting bands like them on the same level as Corroded Coffin and Eddie didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all.

Bands like Void took away from other bands who actually enjoyed what they were doing, making it hard for anyone to be taken seriously. It was hurting the industry and it pissed Eddie off that they were getting praise when they were only in it for the fame when bands like Corroded Coffin were doing it because they loved making music. It was a form of therapy for them. And now there was a group of phonies who everyone was worshipping because they had one hit.

“Whatever,” Eddie shook his head. “We still have tomorrow to be even better so we should get some rest.”

“I thought we were going out.” They usually did after every show, drinking and flirting, some of them getting lucky and others not so much. Eddie loved getting drunk but couldn’t stand the feeling of being hungover, sometimes not even wanting to drink because of it. He always eventually gave in when Jeff would urge a shot into his hand. It always looked so inviting that he had to get a taste and before he knew it, he was many drinks deep, stumbling out of the building with his arm around a girl who he definitely thought was out of his league.

“I think Eddie is a little pouty that he didn’t get that girl’s number,” Gareth teased. Eddie didn’t like the way that Gareth was talking about you, like you were just a girl he struck out with. He definitely would have be in if you hadn’t been with Chris. But that wasn’t what bothered him. He hated that you were being spoken about as if you were an object. You weren’t. You were so much more than that. You were a person and he hated that he always had to remind the guys that they couldn’t just treat women however they wanted because they were famous. They deserved nothing but respect.

“Her name is y/n.” Maybe Eddie was a little upset because you were dating someone, but he’d get over it. He always did. You were just another girl and he could easily find another one who wasn’t attached to anyone. And that was what he planned to do. If he could ever stop thinking about your tiny skirt and your thick thighs that he desperately wanted to bury his head between.

“Okay, sorry, very pouty,” Gareth corrected, putting his hands up in defense. “C’mon dude, you can find someone to help you get over her. The Ruby Room is always crawling with babes.” Gareth was right about that. Eddie was always able to get lucky at The Ruby Room, girls crowding themselves around him like they thought he was somebody that they actually wanted to hang out with. He still wasn’t entirely used to the attention considering he never got any back home since everyone either thought he was a loser or a cult leader even though he was very much neither. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that women wanted him, like they were mistaking him for someone else, but when they would moan his name and his name only, he knew that there was no mistake.

Eddie headed over to the door, ready to head out. His mission now being to get as drunk as possible instead of heading to bed like he probably should have. He couldn’t go to bed sober, especially since you were on his mind. He didn’t like you, you were just someone he was trying to hook up with who happened to have a boyfriend. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t the type to be. He definitely wasn’t disgusted by thinking about what you were probably doing with Chris and how he wanted to be the reason for your pleasure.

“Well,” Eddie turned to his bandmates that were still sitting on the couch. They all stood up and followed Eddie out of the room. He was hoping that he’d see you but only found Void packing up their equipment with you nowhere to be found. He wanted to know where you had run off to.

“Don’t touch that,” Chris smacked Max’s hand that was reaching for Chris’s guitar. Chris had been in an even worse mood since you had broken up with him and now Max and Joey were paying for it. He couldn’t believe that you were leaving him. Him. He thought he had done so much for you over the years and this was how you repaid him? He had let you live with him when the lease on your apartment was up when he could have just let you live on the street. He let you tour with his band when he could have just left you at home. He even used your stupid song and you were just being ungrateful.

“What do you posers want,” Chris snapped as he turned to the foursome. If looks could kill, they all definitely would have been dead, especially Eddie. They were each hoping that the other had left already so they wouldn’t risk running into each other, but clearly that was just wishful thinking.

“Where’s y/n?” Eddie asked, wondering aloud. He didn’t know why he cared, but he was hoping that you were okay. He had hoped that you had dumped Chris’s sorry ass just like you had said you would.

“Kicked her to the curb,” Chris shrugged as if he was unbothered by your breakup. He turned his back to put his guitar into the case then turned back to Eddie once he was done. “You’re more than welcome to have her, Munson,” he let out a chuckle. “I should warn you, though, she doesn’t really put out.” Eddie took a deep breath, trying very hard not to take the bait. He wasn’t the fighting type, but goddamn was it tempting to punch that fucker square in the face.

“If I remember correctly, she told me that she was going to break up with you.” Just from looking at Chris, Eddie could tell that he was lying through his teeth. Especially since his band members didn’t seem to want to back him up. They just packed up their equipment, seeming unbothered by Chris’s behavior which caused Eddie to believe that he did things like this often.

“Oh, did she? Since you guys are so close, right? Well, you were wrong. I dumped her and now she’s at the hotel probably crying her eyes out.”

“I actually bet she’s at The Ruby Room right now getting cozy with someone that’s definitely not you. I bet he’ll take her to the bathroom and make her feel much more pleasure than you ever could.” Eddie was now inches away from him, trying to hold back a laugh at how red his face was. Eddie actually wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he hoped that whatever you were up to was going to piss Chris off.

“You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, Munson,” Chris poked Eddie’s chest.

“I don’t?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. “Because from the way she was reacting with your tongue down her throat, she didn’t seem to like it or you for that matter.”

“We’re going through a rough patch.” Chad genuinely believed that. He figured that you were just on your period and needed time to cool off before you’d come running back to him like nothing happened. He didn’t know that you had every intention of catching the first flight out in the morning.

“Right,” Eddie nodded. “So rough that she even admitted that your band fucking sucks. And that you’re an asshole. Cleary you don’t know her as well as you thought you did.” Chris was like a bomb that was seconds from going off. Anger was bubbling inside of him and his eyes were filled with rage.

“Alright, I’m tired of your shit, Edward.” Chris poked his chest again. Eddie wasn’t going to give in as tempting as it was. All Chris was looking for was a fight and Eddie had no intention of giving him what he wanted.

“Am I upsetting you, Douglas?” Eddie put on a fake pout and he could have sworn that he could see smoke coming out of Chris’s ears. He didn’t think he would actually hit him like he seemed to want to. He was a pussy after all.

“You should be so happy that I haven’t kicked your ass.”

“Like you could,” Eddie let out a laugh. Sure, Chris was ripped and could definitely win the fight, but he was all bark and no bite. There was no actual heat to his threats. Without another word, Chris punched Eddie square in the nose causing the singer to stumble backwards. He clutched his nose and just as soon as he was able to stand up straight, Chris went in for another punch, this time his hitting Eddie’s left eye. He stepped back again while the members of Void were quick to run off with their belongings, disappearing around the corner as quickly as possible. Jeff, Gareth, and Doug were quick to rush to Eddie’s aid, all wincing at the way his face looked once he finally pulled his hand away.

The foursome headed back to the dressing room, Gareth holding onto Eddie, making sure that he was okay as they walked. He thought it was his duty, them being best friends and all. He’d been there for Eddie’s good, bad, and ugly. He had seen how everyone in Hawkins had treated him and despite how much he stood up for the boy, nobody would relent. He was just a kid who played a role-play game with his friends and everyone thought that made him evil.

Gareth helped Eddie sit down in the chair in front of the vanity and handed him some tissues and a couple Advil along with a water bottle. If a few little comments set Chad off, Eddie wondered just how you were treated when he was actually upset. He hoped that Chris hadn’t laid a finger on you unless it was lovingly. But he was pretty sure that the guy didn’t have a single loving bone in his body.

Eddie turned to the mirror and stuck a tissue in each of his nostrils, trying to get a good look at his face. There wasn’t any real damage but the blood. For a couple of punches, Chris really got him good. He could feel the pain coursing through his nose all the way to his head. He didn’t look too bad but knew it would be worse in the morning. Maybe he could garner some sympathy with a sob story to ensure that he’d be able to take someone home.

Eddie took the Advil and threw back some water to wash it all down, feeling like his head was pounding. As he cleaned himself up, the band gathered up all of their belongings and headed to their car to take them back to their hotel so they could freshen up before their night out. Eddie didn’t care if he had the worst headache known to man, he was going to get some. He didn’t even care with who, he just felt like he needed something good after the shit he had been through.

The car pulled up to the building and Eddie practically jumped out, as soon as it stopped moving. He made a beeline for the elevator while the rest leisurely followed him, Gareth carrying his guitar since that hadn’t really been a worry of Eddie’s. All he was concerned about was getting out of the stupid leather and jumping in the shower to wash off the shitty day.

The elevator opened and the four of them stepped inside, Eddie tapping his foot against the floor. He didn’t know why he was so anxious, but his heart was racing and he couldn’t seem to stay still. He was just very suddenly aware of how his clothes were sticking to his sweaty skin and how dirty his hair felt. The doors opened on their floor and he practically ran down the hall, pulling his room key out of his pocket as he did so. He opened the door and slammed it behind him, so grateful that him and the other members of the band all got their own rooms. He could pace around with his guitar, humming the lyrics to a song he was writing at three am if he damn well pleased. He no longer needed to take showers just to have his much needed alone time after being overstimulated the whole day.

Eddie stripped himself of his clothes and left them in a small pile in the floor by his bed. His whole room had been a mess and he figured he should have cleaned it if he was going to bring a girl back there, but that would be after his shower. He entered the bathroom and turned the shower on, humming along to the stupid song that Void had performed before they left the stage. He hated their guts, but goddamn was it catchy. He’d give them that. He couldn’t help but think about how different it sounded to the rest of their songs. The other ones were so shallow and misogynistic and Hurt was so beautifully written that he thought it couldn’t have possibly been written by them, not even Chris. Especially not Chris.

Once the water was hot enough, Eddie jumped into the shower, taking his time to wash every inch of his body. It was something that he usually did pretty quickly just to get it over with because of how much he hated to look at it. He hated that he wasn’t as ripped as the other guys around town and the fact women either laughed at him or were scared of him definitely didn’t help. If he was being honest, it wasn’t until he lost his virginity that he actually felt a sliver of confidence. He had no fucking clue what he was doing, but the fact someone actually gave him the time of day and wanted to see him naked made him feel significantly better about himself.

Now he was the lead singer of one of the biggest metal bands in the industry and both men and women actually seemed to like him. He didn’t care if it was genuine or just because he was famous. He’d take any affection he could get no matter the intention. Whether they were into his personality or his body, it didn’t matter to him, as long as it was consensual and they were comfortable was all he cared about. He couldn’t believe how many men in the industry took advantage of people and got away with it because they were famous. It disgusted him and he wondered how many people would still like them if they knew the kind of men they really are when they thought no one was looking.

He finished with his shower and wiped down the mirror to get another glimpse at his face. His nose was now a little swollen but there wasn’t any actual damage from what he could see. And the skin around his eye was just a little red. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad he had initially thought it would. Maybe it would just swell then go back down by the time he needed to perform the next day.

Once he decided he had enough of looking at his refection he headed back into his room and rifled through his messy suitcase for something to wear to the club. Everything he pulled out looked like shit. He usually didn’t put much thought into what he wore, but for whatever reason, he wanted to look nice. He wanted to look good. For whatever reason, he was hoping to run into you, even though he figured you wouldn’t be there. He was hoping that you were at LAX waiting for your flight home. He had hoped that you were okay despite the obvious pain that you were experiencing.

He settled on a black button up shirt and a pair of jeans with his boots that he definitely needed to replace. He only buttoned a few of the bottom buttons, leaving a lot of his chest on display. He then tucked it into his jeans, hearing a knock on his door. He headed over and opened the door for who he assumed was Jeff then headed to his shoes that he had left by the bed before sitting on it to put them on. Jeff stepped into the room, closing the door before stepping over to Eddie. He was dressed similarly the only difference was that his shirt was navy blue and he was wearing a wife beater under it and his jeans were a darker wash. Eddie always admired the way Jeff dressed and sometimes wished he had the confidence to pull off the things he wore when they were onstage.

“You clean up nice,” Jeff complimented. “I might even be into you.”

“Thanks, you too. Where are the others?” Eddie asked, putting on his socks then quickly throwing on his boots. He stood from the bed and headed for the door, making sure he had his key before the pair stepped into the hallway.

“Waiting on the elevator.” Eddie caught sight of his band mates who were whistling and catcalling him as he walked towards them. It was something they always did to mess with him while simultaneously trying to hype him up. He didn’t know why he was nervous. He had gone out more times than he could count so it was nothing new to him. Maybe it was because he didn’t actually want to go for once. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about you no matter how he tried. You were taking up every inch of his brain and he hated it. He was trying to get laid and he couldn’t exactly do that when all he could think about was the outfit you had been wearing and how he wanted to be the one who got to see what was underneath.

As soon as the doors opened, Eddie stepped inside and threw on his sunglasses, knowing that the bright lights of the club would make his headache worse. He pressed himself against the wall, really wishing he had something to numb the pain. A joint or a line, whatever he could get his hands on. He knew they wouldn’t heal him, but they would at least give him the illusion that he was. He should have probably (definitely) gone to bed, but the night was young and so was he so he was going to have a great time and not think about you or how much he wanted to knock Chris’s light out. He couldn’t promise that he’d keep his hands to himself this time if he saw the bastard. He was going to punch the living daylights out of him, not only for what Chris had done to him, but also for you. Especially for you.

The Ruby Room, Los Angeles, 1990

Before Eddie knew it, the car that he wasn’t even aware that he had gotten into was pulling up to the all too familiar building with the words The Ruby Room across the front in bright red lights. Doug was pushing him out of the car and he took the hint, moving faster than he was willing to. He stepped out onto the street and headed towards the entrance, completely bypassing all of people in line waiting to get in. The man at the door pulled back the velvet rope and the members of Corroded Coffin walked through.

“Thanks Hank,” Eddie pat the man’s shoulder, showing him his signature megawatt smile.

“Anything for you guys,” Hank replied and Eddie followed his friends inside. He’d never get over how overstimulating everything was when he first entered the building. With all the bright lights and loud music, it was like his own personal hell, but he’d get over it once he had a few drinks. He made a beeline for the bar and ordered his usual while drumming his fingers on the wood while he waited. He scanned the room, looking for the girl he was going take home when he stopped. He felt like time had frozen when he caught sight of you sitting at a table by yourself sipping on a cocktail. He blinked a couple times, certain that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but once he rubbed them a little too aggressively and saw that you were still there, he was sure that you were very real. He turned back to the bar to see his drink was in front of him and grabbed it and was about to head your way, but he figured he’d leave you alone to give you space.

You hadn’t even planned to go out. You had every intention of going to bed, but you just couldn’t stand being there when Chris got back. You knew he would have intentionally been loud just to wake you up and yell at you for things that were his fault and he would definitely have something to say now that you had broken up with him. He was so angry with you and you didn’t want to hear it. There was nothing that he could say that would make you want to go back to him. You were done and ready to focus on yourself for once.

As much as you liked the idea of going home with someone, you couldn’t find it in yourself. Not because of Chris, but because you hadn’t had sex in six months and weren’t even sure if you knew how to do it anymore. You also weren’t even sure if you liked it. The only person you had slept with was Chris and you tried to get out of it any chance you could. You knew it wasn’t supposed to be that way. You had people talk about amazing it was but every time you did things with Chris, it was nothing but awkward and uncomfortable. He seemed to enjoy himself but didn’t even ask if you liked it. You knew that he wasn’t doing something right but blamed yourself because you knew that he couldn’t possible believe that he was the problem.

Eddie watched you for a few more seconds and was about to turn away when he saw a man approach you. He sat in the chair next to yours without an invitation and was getting a little too close to you for your liking. He was touching your hair and making odd comments which you figured he thought were compliments. He scooted his chair closer to yours and Eddie decided that he had enough. Before he could stop himself, he was making his way over to your table with more confidence than he ever had in his life. He weaved his way through all of the dancing bodies, trying not to spill his drink as he did so. He kept his eyes on you and didn’t miss the way yours lit up when you saw him. He didn’t know if it was because you knew you were going to be saved or if you were just happy to see him, but didn’t care which one it was.

“So sorry I’m late sweetheart,” he greeted as he got to your table. You turned to him and couldn’t stop staring. His hair was extra curly and you just wanted to run your fingers through to see if it was as soft as it looked. And his shirt perfectly showcased his chest and all of his tattoos that you wanted to trace with your fingers and maybe even your tongue.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man slurred before you could speak. He looked old enough to be your father and that made Eddie feel sick to his stomach. He couldn’t stand letting some creep hit on you when you were uncomfortable. He knew you could defend yourself, but he felt like he needed to step in to keep you safe.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you turned to the man, emphasizing the last word and Eddie couldn’t understand the feeling he got when he heard it. “And he’s going to kick your ass if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” You were speaking with so much confidence, as if you actually believed that Eddie actually could beat his ass when he definitely couldn’t.

“You?” The man laughed, standing from the chair and getting closer to Eddie, sizing him up. Eddie was sure that the guy could have flicked him and he’d fly across the room, so he wasn’t sure why you had said that he could beat his ass when there was absolutely no competition. He was going to get hit for the second time that night and he wasn’t sure he’d still have a nose after that. He moved his sunglasses up onto his head and prepared for the inevitable but it didn’t come. He opened his eyes and the man’s mouth was agape.

“Eddie Munson?” He asked in shock. “Shit, I’m sorry, man. I love your work.” Eddie let out a sigh of relief and the man put his hand out to shake.

“Oh, thanks. Nice to meet you,” Eddie smiled at him and took his hand, shaking it, swearing that he could hear a crack over the loud music at how hard the man was holding his hand. He finally let go, his face lighting up as he did so.

“The pleasure’s all mine. I saw you guys performing earlier and you were amazing.” Eddie realized early on in his career that Corroded Coffin’s main demographic was men that were old enough to be his father. Every one that he had met had been nothing but complimentary and seemed to be very dedicated. He was always so appreciative and couldn’t help but think about how they reminded him of Wayne. He really needed to give him a call.

“Wow, thanks man,” Eddie nodded. Had something actually gone right for him for once? He swore he was going to end up in the hospital and now this guy was telling him that he was a huge fan? Being famous was weird, Eddie knew that for sure. Maybe since now he knew the guy respected him, he could get him to leave you alone.

“Well, I won’t keep you. You guys have a great night and I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he nodded his head towards you then turned and disappeared into all of the dancing bodies on the dance floor. Eddie let out a sigh of relief as he sat in the chair beside you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. How good he looked in the harsh club lighting which you didn’t think was possible. You thought maybe it was the alcohol, but you looked down at your drink and realized that you had only had a few sips so you decided that he just looked like that. So pretty and nice. The second thing surprisingly not being common in men.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, turning to face him. He looked intimidating, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He threw his glasses onto the table and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to process everything that just happened.

“I know,” he nodded. “But I wanted to.”

“I could have taken care of myself.” Eddie knew that but maybe he just wanted an excuse to talk to you. He didn’t know why he needed one since he could talk to you if he wanted to. You made him nervous and he wasn’t sure why. He thought he was finally getting good at talking to girls but here you were in your red dress looking as beautiful as ever in the bright lights.

“I know,” he said again with another nod. “But again, I wanted to.”

“Well, that’s sweet. It’s good you didn’t get your ass kicked. Crazy that he was a fan, huh? Guess you should consider yourself lucky.”

“Oh, I do.” He had to be to have a chance to see you again. “I couldn’t take another ass kicking.”

“Another one?” He turned his face to her and she caught sight of the redness around his eye. She took his face in her hands and turned it so she could see just how bad his injury was. “Eddie,” she gasped, pulling his face closer to hers so she could get a better look and he had tried his best to ignore the thudding of his heart against his chest. “Who did this to you?”

“Your boyfriend,” he grumbled, hating the way the words felt on his tongue. “Or I guess now he’s your ex boyfriend.”

“Chris did this to you? Eddie, I’m so sorry. He’s such a fucking ass.” You hated that he had taken a punch from your shitty ex and wondered what had happened. You decided you were going to ask later when everything wasn’t so fresh. You brought your thumb up to graze the redness around his eye and he winced. “I’m sorry,” You apologized, completely removing your hands from his face and Eddie was already missing your touch. You stood up from the table and held your hand out for him to take. He looked at it, dumbfounded, wondering why you were offering it to him and what you wanted him to do with it. You shook it and it finally registered that you wanted him to hold it.

He put his hand in yours and you pulled him up from the table, pulling him towards the dance floor. You weaved your way through the crowd and Eddie admired how quickly and seamlessly you seemed to move, like you knew exactly where to go. He had no idea where you were taking him, but he didn’t care. He was beginning to realize he’d follow you anywhere and that scared him. He had only just met you and now he was head over heels. He didn’t get attached to women, that was his thing. He didn’t think he was even capable of being interested in someone beyond sex but here he was, following you, knowing that no matter where you were taking him, he’d be okay just because you were there. Eddie caught sight of his band mates as he looked around the club and they all gave him a thumbs up when they realized that you were pulling him down a hallway, assuming that the two of you were going to get up to something filthy.

Once Eddie was out of his daze, he realized that you were pulling him into the women’s bathroom. You instructed him to stand at the sink and he listened, willing to do whatever you told him. He looked at his reflection and was about to reach up and touch his eye but you rested your hand on his shoulder and turned him around before he could. Before he could register what was going on, your hand was digging through your purse for something and Eddie just stood there and watched, admiring your beauty now that he had gotten a full view of your dress. Your dress that he wanted to slip his hands under and feel your soft skin under his.

“I swear I’m gonna kill Chris,” you muttered, pulling out what looked like a tube of lipstick but instead of red or pink that he was used to seeing, it was the color of your skin which he had never seen before.

“Can I help?” He didn’t want to help for the sake of helping, he wanted to beat the shit out of Chris for how terribly he had treated everyone in his path, especially you. He also wanted revenge for himself, to reverse the rolls and give him the shiner. He couldn’t let him get away with it now that he’d seen the real him.

“I’ll need someone to help me bury the body, won’t I?” You set your purse on the counter and took the cap off of the tube, twisting the bullet so you had access to more product. “I’m gonna fix your eye, okay?”

“You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart.” Eddie closed his eyes and leaned against the counter, putting his hands on top of it. You moved to his left side where his injury was and pressed yourself against the counter, gently taking his chin in your hand, lightly pressing the concealer stick to his skin, not missing his winces as you did so. It must have hurt much worse than it looked. You lightly blended the makeup with your fingers and Eddie didn’t care how much it hurt, he just liked that you were touching him, loving the way the pads of your fingers felt against his skin. Loving how close you were to him, and how amazing you smelled. He couldn’t tell whether it was your perfume or if you just smelled that good naturally, but goddamn was it addicting.

Eddie opened his eyes and couldn’t help but look into yours, captivated by the color and the cute concentrated look you had on your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your tongue was barely poking through your lips, your pretty red painted lips that he wanted to know the taste of but knew he wouldn’t. Not then. Not when you had just broken up with your boyfriend. The wounds were still open and he could see them even though you had bandaged them up. He may have only known you for a few hours at that point, but he could see right through you. He could see that you were hurting even though you pretended that you weren’t. You were trying to be tough and he hated that you felt like you had to hide your emotions. You didn’t. At least not with him. He wouldn’t have judged you if you had wanted to break something in anger or if you just wanted to cry. He would have let you, would have even held you while you did it.

You tapped on some setting powder with a makeup brush and finished up before stepping back to admire your work, nodding to yourself in approval. It wasn’t your best by any means, but you did what you could in a pinch. It wasn’t like it mattered that much in the ruby colored club lighting, but you just wanted to help Eddie out. At least, that was what you were telling yourself. It wasn’t because you were looking for an excuse to touch his pretty face, no. And it wasn’t because you wanted to be close to him either. You just saw someone in need and wanted to provide for them. That was it.

“Take a look,” you referred to the mirror. Eddie turned to it and leaned on the counter to get a better look. The redness was gone and he actually looked normal. He turned to look at you and you didn’t miss the small smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“It looks great,” he complimented. “Truly. The greatest makeup job I’ve ever had.” Maybe he was exaggerating but he didn’t care. He had only had his makeup done a few times for certain performances and some music videos and every time he dreaded it, hating that people were that close to him, hating being touched like that. But with you, he didn’t mind, not one bit. In fact, he didn’t think that you were close enough, didn’t think that you had touched him for nearly as long as you should have.

“Really?” You looked him in the eyes and could see that he was being genuine. Everyone in your life had always made fun of you for interest in makeup and the fact that you had wanted to make a career out of it. They all told you that it wasn’t a “real job” and that you couldn’t possibly be successful doing people’s makeup for a living. That it was just a silly hobby and you shouldn’t spend so much time doing something that won’t make you any money.

“Definitely,” Eddie stepped closed to you, taking a chance. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed him by his hips, pulling him so he was flush to your body. His eyes widened at your sudden movement but he wasn’t going to deny your touch. His hands hesitantly moved to your shoulders and he looked at your face the entire time to gauge your reaction. He watched your pretty lips part and he stared at them, wondering if they were at soft as they looked, if they tasted as good as he was hoping they would. You ran your tongue along your bottom lip and that was it. He had to have you, but he wanted you make the first move.

You leaned closer to him, so close that he could feel your breath on his face. Your lips ghosted over his and he had to blink a few times to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming even though he could feel your hot touch despite his shirt being a barrier between your hand and his skin.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he said. He wanted you so badly but wanted to be considerate of you and your fragile state. He didn’t want you to move on too soon.

“But doesn’t that make it more fun,” your grip on his waist tightened and he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t like seeing that side of you. “Knowing that we shouldn’t but doing it anyway?”

“Fuck,” Eddie breathed and closed his eyes, waiting for your lips to meet his. Just as you caught his bottom lip between your two, there was a loud beeping sound coming from your purse. You ignored it and rested your hands against Eddie’s face, slowly moving them into his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip and he opened up, letting yours meet his. He pressed you against the counter and you untucked his shirt from his pants, moving your hands beneath it to run your fingers up his bare back.

The loud beeping sounded again and you reluctantly pulled away, Eddie chasing your lips as you did so. He got in one more kiss before you reached for your purse and pulled out your pager seeing that you had pages from both Max and Joey. All that was said was that Chris needed you and that you needed to come back to the hotel. You didn’t need to do anything. You threw the pager back in your bag before pressing your lips to Eddie’s again.

“Do you want to get a drink?” You asked, pulling away from him. He was caught off guard by your question and figured that whatever message you got on your beeper must have upset you.

“I’d love to get a drink,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door but you pulled him back. Before he could ask what you were doing, you wiped away the lipstick that had transferred onto his skin and only laughed when it smudged across his cheek.

“You look like the Joker.” You continued to laugh and he couldn’t help but join in as you tried and failed to wipe the lipstick off his face.

“Me?” He laughed. “Look at you!” He moved out of the way so you could see yourself in the mirror and you leaned in close to get a better look. He was right. You did look much worse than he did. Your lipstick was all over the bottom half of your face to the point where you almost resembled a clown. You were quick to grab Eddie’s face, about to wipe the lipstick away before he stopped you.

“Wait,” he grabbed your hands, moving them away from his face.

“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing your eyebrows.

“Don’t wipe it away.”

“Why?”

“I like having your mark on me.” You blushed at his words then turned to the mirror to remove your lipstick to fix it up.

“What all do you have in there?” He asked as you rummaged in your purse for your lipstick.

“In my purse? Anything and everything I could possibly need.”

“Like what? Can I see?” You handed him your purse while you continued wiping his face. He pulled out everything one by one, mesmerized by how much you were able to carry in such a small bag. He didn’t miss the envelope filled with cash but didn’t want to mess with it. He came across what felt like a pencil and pulled out quickly realizing that it was eyeliner. He had seen other performers wear it but was always afraid he’d poke his eye out.

You finished taking off the lipstick then took your concealer and put it in on the spots of your foundation that had been removed then tapped on some powder over it to make sure it stayed in place. You then took a tube of lipstick and applied it to your lips, rubbing them together to make sure that it was evenly applied. Eddie watched you in awe, fascinated with the whole process, loving the precision of everything. He swore that he could watch you apply your makeup for hours and never get bored.

“Ready?” You asked, turning to him with a smile on your freshly glossed lips. He just smiled back in complete adoration.

“Ready,” he nodded and pulled your purse out of your reach when you went to grab it from him. “Now what kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you carry your purse?” He scoffed in feigned offense.

“You’re not a gentleman,” you replied, reaching for the purse again but he just held it further out of your reach.

“Ouch, doll,” he put his hand up to where his heart was and acted as if he was in pain. “You wound me. Let’s settle this now. You let me carry your purse and I’ll buy you a drink, alright?”

“Then what do I get in return?” You crossed your arms over your chest and put on a pout.

“You get to hangout with me.”

“Hmm,” you pondered. “I don’t think that’s a fair trade.”

“Damn, you’re just firing shots tonight, aren’t you, doll?” He gave you his megawatt smile then opened the door for you to exit the bathroom. You stepped into the hallway and grabbed his hand, leading him back out onto the dance floor.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” You led him over to the bar. He drummed his free hand on the bar while you waited for the busy bartender to get to you. You turned to look at him and gave him a small smile which he returned and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. For someone who was so used to be being in the public eye, Eddie always seemed to forget that people could perceive him when he wasn’t onstage. He didn’t expect attention, especially not from women like you. You were so pretty and smart and now you were available. He could have asked you out if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t. Only because he wanted you to be comfortable. He was going to wait and see if you’d give him your number or at least tell him that you were interested. He didn’t think that making out with him in the Ruby Room bathroom counted as interested.

You ordered another cosmopolitan while Eddie ordered another beer, adding both drinks to his tab while handing over his credit card. While you waited, you wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. He leaned into you, turning his head towards yours. He looked at you in admiration and hated that he could see himself falling for you only having met you earlier that day.

He could see himself calling you while on tour and hearing about your day. He could see the two of you dancing around the kitchen in your pajamas while he hummed a song that he wrote for you. He could even see the two of you sitting on the front porch of the house you just bought while the dog you insisted on getting ran around the yard.

Eddie’s first thought would have been to run, to get away from you and the feelings that he was having, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay put and see how everything would turn out. He was just so content being beside you. You didn’t even have to speak, just knowing that you were there was enough for him.

“Here you go,” you handed him his beer and for a second, he completely forgot where he was. For a moment, it was just the two of you in your own little world and now he was back in the real one where other people existed and he wished the two of you could go somewhere you could be alone. He wanted to get to know you without the outside world intervening. He didn’t want to be arrogant but he knew of his celebrity status and as much as he loved the people who loved him, he had to admit that he wasn’t always so happy to have them interrupt his night to talk to him.

“Thanks,” he smiled and took a sip, turning to scan the club. When he turned back to you, you were holding a shot out to him. “What’s this for?” He set his beer on the bar and took the shot from you, holding it between his fingers.

“To new beginnings,” you held your shot up motioning for him to cheers.

“Fuck yeah,” he nodded, completely understanding what you were implying. “To new beginnings.” You both downed the liquid and it burned going down but you liked the way it made you feel. It gave you more confidence. It let you turn your brain off even if it was only for a few hours.

“Do you wanna dance?” You asked, looking at the dance floor longingly. Eddie followed your gaze and couldn’t help but think about how much he hated dancing and being around that many people at once. He normally would have said no but how could he have after seeing that adorable pout on your face?

“Sure,” he nodded and you were quickly to pull him out there while he tried to make sure that you didn’t spill any of your drink. It was a very close call but he was successful as you got onto the dance floor. He watched you as you moved to the beat, insisting that he hold your drink while you did so. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you moved your hips to the terrible pop beat that was playing over the speakers. He set the drinks on the table where his friends had been sitting and you were quick to grab his hands and rest them on your waist. He tried to mimic the way you were moving but didn’t think his body could do the same.

You thought it was cute that he was trying to copy you and decided to help him in his struggle. You rested your hands on his waist, moving his hips this way and that and he couldn’t help but let out a giggle at how ridiculous he probably looked. Once you thought he got the hang of it, you turned your back to him and started grinding against his crotch. His eyes widened as he watched you, unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. He had seen people dance like that countless times but when it came time for his turn, his mind went completely blank. It didn’t help that you were making him hard and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

After what felt like far too long, you turned back around and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. His arms moved to your waist and he enveloped you into a hug, pulling you closer to him.

“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. I know that you probably have better things to do but I really appreciate it.” Better things to do? Like what? Going to bed? Sleeping with a woman that wasn’t you? Yeah right. He wanted to be there for you. To be the shoulder you cried on.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he rubbed your back sympathetically. You stayed like that for a while, the floor slowly emptying as the night turned to morning. You heard last call and decided to call it a night. Neither of you wanted it to end, but you thought it was for the best. You didn’t want to go back to Chris, but you didn’t think you had a choice. You certainly weren’t going to ask Eddie if you could stay with him. He had already done so much for you and you weren’t going to push it.

The two of you exited the club as it was shutting down, the remaining members of Corroded Coffin following your lead. The five of you stood on the sidewalk awkwardly as the boys waited for their ride. You saw the other boys eyeing Eddie as if they were all communicating with looks that you clearly didn’t understand.

“Well,” you spoke up. “I should probably get back.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, even though it was taking everything in him to not ask you to stay the night. Not even to sleep with you. He just wanted to make sure you were safe.

“Have a good night guys. I had a nice time.” Before he could register what you were doing, you had grabbed his hand, scribbling on it with your eyeliner pencil, that being the only writing utensil you had on hand. “This is my phone and pager numbers. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” You threw the pencil back into your purse and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s lips before making your way down the street.

That wasn’t it. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t really going to let you walk down the streets of LA at night alone would he? No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you leave without one last kiss to hold him over until he saw you again. He ran after you as fast as he could and you turned around in confusion as he stood in front of you. He grabbed you by your face and pressed his lips roughly to yours, taking no time to swipe his tongue along your bottom one. You let him in, grabbing hold of his shirt. His hands quickly moved to your hair, his fingertips pressing into your scalp.

“I just needed one more taste,” he mumbled against your lips. You only pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I told you not to be a stranger, Munson.” You only pulled him closer, pecking his lips.

“I-“ he cut himself off before speaking again. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, baby. You could ask me up to your room right now and I’d say yes.” You really hadn’t been expecting to go back to where he was staying, but you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t want to go back to your room and who would pass up the chance to fuck a rockstar?

“D-do you want to go to my room?” He was surprised he could get the words out considering how fuzzy his brain felt at the thought of you wanting to fuck him.

“I’d be honored.” You took his hand in yours and he pulled you back over to the boys as soon as the car pulled up. The five of you all piled into it, you and Eddie ending up alone in the very back seat. Your hand was still holding his and you pulled them to rest on your lap, your free hand fiddling with his rings that adorned his fingers. His fingers that you so desperately wanted to touch you in every place imaginable.

You whispered to each other the whole way, giggling as you did so, definitely annoying Eddie’s friends who were sitting in front of you. They were all getting sick of your flirty conversation and couldn’t wait for the car to pull up to the hotel so they could get away.

The car finally go to the hotel and your jaw dropped at the sight in front of you. You weren’t surprised that Corroded Coffin had the cash to stay there considering how popular they had become over the years.

Eddie took you by the hand and led you inside the building and you were completely mesmerized by how nice it was. It made where you were staying look like a dump. It was so nice that you felt out of place like you usually did when you went to places like that. You didn’t grow up with much money and didn’t really know anyone who did so you definitely didn’t think you’d ever step foot in the Beverly Hills hotel. Especially not with the lead singer of Corroded Coffin.

The others took the elevator that came down while you and Eddie stayed back to take your own. Your flirting continued as you stood in the empty lobby, the only people there being the two of you. You looked up at him and realized that you didn’t actually have anything to worry about like you usually did when it was that time of night. You’d lay your head on your pillow and everything you were worried about that quieted itself during the day became very loud in your head. It was to the point where you could barely sleep most nights because whatever Chris had been worried about would be passed off to you because for whatever reason, he wanted to make everything a concern to you even when it didn’t actually involve you.

It was as if all of the chaos had left had your head as soon as you and Chris were broken up. All of the problems that you previously had just weren’t there. You didn’t have to take care of his laundry or pack up his suitcase to make everything fit. You didn’t have to restring his fucking guitar or make him his special tea that supposedly helped his voice sound better but you were sure it was a scam. You didn’t have to do anything for that man anymore and you felt good. You were finally free from his shackles.

One of the elevators opened and you grabbed Eddie by the shirt, pulling him inside. He pressed the button for his floor before his hands found your waist again and moved farther down as your lips attached to his. You went to unbutton his shirt, the fact that you were in an elevator was the least of your worries. You needed him and you needed him now. It didn’t matter that you had issues with being intimate with someone. You were confident that Eddie would satisfy your needs and be nothing but a gentleman while he did it.

Eddie’s hands slipped under your dress as you undid the last button, his entire chest in display for your viewing pleasure. You pulled back to look at him, wondering how you got so lucky. How you got Eddie Munson to actually agree to sleep with you. And it took absolutely no convincing. He was on board for whatever you liked to do. You barely even knew him and he was already wrapped around your finger.

Before his hands could get any farther, the elevator dinged signaling that it was on the correct floor and Eddie reluctantly removed himself from you, stealing one more kiss before leading you to his room.

“It’s kind of messy,” he said sheepishly as he unlocked the door. You didn’t think that mattered considering what you were about to get up to. The cleanliness of his room was the least of your worries. He opened the door and you were surprised at how surprisingly clean it was. It wasn’t immaculate by any means but it was definitely better than the rooms of other men that you had seen. There were small piles of clothes and an open cluttered suitcase, but that was it as far as the mess went. It was very clean compared to the roommate you had shared a living space with over the past few years.

“So this is how the other half lives,” you sighed, collapsing onto his bed. It was much softer than the one where you were staying.

“It could be your life too,” he replied, lying down next to you. He didn’t know why he said that, but it was too late to take it back. You turned to look at him but he just kept staring at the ceiling, afraid to look you in the eye.

“I guess you’re right. I think I was put on this earth to be a rockstar’s girlfriend.” His cheeks heated up at that. He would have asked you out if he knew for sure that you were talking about him, but you weren’t. You definitely weren’t. Eddie was the kind of guy you snuck into your window because your parents didn’t approve, not the kind of guy you’d bring home. And definitely not the kind of guy who wanted to be a boyfriend. People slept with him and that was it. And that was how he liked it. It was everything he liked without all the “feelings” bullshit.

The two of you fell silent and you rolled on top of him, straddling his hips and pressed your lips to his once again and he was quick to put his hands under your dress. You removed it, letting it fall to the floor. His hands landed on your thighs, giving them a squeeze as he licked into your mouth. He liked how soft they were under his rough hands.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “So this is what I’ve been missing. God, angel, you’re perfect.”

“Perfect?” You loved that word and how easily he was able to say it in regard to you. Like it was something that he said all the time.

“Perfect,” he pressed his lips to yours once more. “And don’t you forget it.”

You pulled his open shirt from his shoulders and threw it to the side. Eddie was quick to flip you over so now he was straddling you. He captured your top lip between his two in a brief kiss before moving down to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to the skin. He went down to your chest ,sucking on your breast, his tongue running over your nipple.

You let out a soft moan and he chuckled to himself, loving the way it sounded coming from your pretty lips. He continued sucking on your breast, hearing more moans come from you. He took your nipple in between his teeth and pulling to get just the right sound he wanted from you.

“Oh,” you let out another moan. He repeated the same action before giving it a little suck. “Oh, Eddie.”

“That’s right, princess,” he said before pulling away from your chest. “Say my name.” He moved to your other breast and did the exact same thing, getting more moans from you. He was loving seeing you like this and knowing that it was all for him was driving him wild. He kissed all the way down your stomach and made his way to your waist.

“Can I remove these,” he asked, referring to your underwear. He was being so nice and respectful and you weren’t used to that. You were used to rough and mean.

“Um,” you hesitated. You wanted him to, you really did, but you were still fragile. You weren’t ready but were too afraid to admit that to him. You felt bad considering how eager he was, but you just couldn’t go through with it.

“I don’t have to," he sat up, completely moving his hands away from you, leaning up as he did so.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. Eddie didn’t know why you were telling him that. He was willing to do whatever you wanted. He hoped that you knew that.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I do…I just-I don’t know. I’m nervous. I-I’ve only ever felt this way a few times but it’s been a long time and I don’t even know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” he pushed some of your hair out of your face.

“I mean, I don’t even know what it looks like down there anymore.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” his hands rested on your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I want you to feel comfortable, okay? Tonight is all about you.” All about you? You couldn’t remember the last time you had been the focus of anything. For the longest time, it was all about Chris and what he wanted. For once, you were going to be the center of attention and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“Me? What about you, Eddie?” You wanted to know what he was going to get out of the arrangement. Certainly not much.

“Darling, believe me, I’d get plenty of pleasure from hearing your pretty sounds.” Your eyes widened at that. You were still in shock that he always somehow knew exactly what to say.

“Remove them,” you commanded.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” He knew exactly to what you were referring, but he wanted to hear you say it again.

“Remove them,” you repeated. “Please,” you begged and he was quick to remove the fabric and toss it aside. He spread your legs and a devilish grin made its way upon his face.

“Well look at you,” he looked down at your pussy that was much more damp than you were used to. “Is this all for me, princess?”

“Well, it’s certainly not for me.” You couldn’t remember the last time you got wet like this. If you ever had. Any time Chris had tried to fuck you, you were as dry as the desert. You hadn’t even done anything and Eddie was already making you feel much more pleasure than both Chris and your vibrator combined.

“Well, I’m honored.” He took both of your legs and draped them over his shoulders. “Gonna make you feel so good, angel.”

“Yes, god, please.” Eddie lowered his head, pressing a kiss to each of your thighs before burying his face between them. His tongue was quick to lick from your slit to your clit and you slipped your fingers into his hair, giving it a yank. He took that as an invitation to continue and moved his tongue back and forth before adding his fingers into the mix. He pumped them in and out and your legs tightened against his head.

“God, fuck Eddie,” you breathed. “That feels so good, baby.” Eddie continued working his magic with his mouth, removing his fingers, his hands, grabbing onto your hips, digging his fingers into your skin. Your hands buried themselves into his hair, the tips of them pressing into his scalp. “Eddie,” you moaned. “Need more of you.” Eddie pulled away looked up at you and you swore that you were going to remember that look for forever. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. Like he was in love with you and from the way you were making him feel, he was convinced that he was.

He kissed back up to your lips and licked into your mouth, his hands grabbing onto yours, intertwining your fingers. His legs straddled your waist and you could barely even tell that he had put his full weight on you. You were so focused on him and his talented tongue.

“See how good you taste, angel?” He asked, squeezing your hands.

“No,” you shook your head. “Only know how good you taste,” you responded.

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me,” he pressed his lips to yours again. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t know anything, Eddie,” you bat your eyelashes. “Except the fact that you’re fucking hot.” Eddie captured your lips in another kiss before moving down to your neck, sucking on the base of the side on your throat. His teeth grazed the skin gently and he was quick to diffuse the pain with his tongue.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” He pressed a few open mouthed kisses to your neck before sucking again.

“Then I guess I should tell you how good you are at this.” Eddie lowered himself on top of you, slotting his legs between yours, his fingers still interlaced with yours.

“Then I should tell you how good you are at taking it. You’re doing so well, princess.” You wrapped your arms around his waist and his hands went to your thighs. “You’re so pretty,” he said, pressing more open mouthed kisses to your neck. “Not even just your face, your body.”

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m also right,” he replied. “Don’t you think you’re pretty?” You did think you were pretty. Despite all of the things Chris had said to you over the years, you still thought you were hot shit.

“Absolutely,” you nodded and he grinned.

“Good,” he pressed another kiss to your neck, letting his lips linger there before pulling away. “You should be. You’re so fucking hot.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, princess. Could do this all day every day and never get bored. I think you’re the perfect partner.”

“Out of all the others?” Eddie laughed at that. He didn’t like that you were comparing yourself to the other women he slept with, but he couldn’t understand why you were. To him, he could get rid of every other one and be content to have just you every night. He could see himself falling asleep with you in his arms, his head resting on top of yours. He could see himself performing and looking to you who was standing side stage with the biggest smile on your face, cheering him on. He was falling and fast and for once, he wasn’t going to kick you out. The door was wide open and he was letting you in without question.

“There’s no competition. And this isn’t a line. I genuinely mean it.” he went back to work on your neck, sucking on the spot once more. Your breath hitched and you weren’t sure how he was able to take your breath away. His teeth grazed the skin again, harder this time and you let out a gasp.

“God, Eddie,” you moaned. “Is this always what it’s supposed to feel like?” He chuckled and feeling his breath on your neck made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“As long as it’s with me, yeah,” he responded before diving back in. You liked how he knew when it was starting to hurt and he would quickly swipe his tongue across the spot. He knew exactly what he was doing and you were eating up every second of it.

“Well, maybe next time you can give me the full experience.”

“Already thinking about next time, huh?” He pulled back to wink at you.

“Maybe,” you let out a giggle, starting to feel your eyes get heavy, feeling the after effects of all of the pleasure you had just experienced.

“Right, maybe,” he replied, letting go of your hands and moving your hair away from your face. “You’re starting to slur, angel. Maybe it’s time for bed.”

“No,” you whined. “I didn’t get to please you.”

“Next time, sweetheart, next time,” he pat your cheek. “You can do whatever you want to me when you’re not about to fall asleep on me.” He got off of you and went to his suitcase, pulling out a t-shirt. He handed it to you and you changed into it. It was a little tight, but it was still pretty comfortable. You stood up from the bed, feeling sleepiness take over you as you pulled on your underwear. You almost fell to the floor but Eddie caught up before you could.

“Alright, come one. We gotta remove your makeup, sweet girl.” He scooped you up, holding you by the waist with one arm and putting the other under your legs. He carried you to the bathroom effortlessly and set you on the counter. He then grabbed your makeup remover from your purse and put some on a hand towel before wiping your face with it.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he nodded. “But I want to. Can’t let you sleep in that all night. It’s not gonna be comfortable.”

“I can do it.”

“Can you just let me take care of you, please?”

“You were taking care of me just fine earlier.”

“Not that kind of care, angel,” he wiped your face again, his other hand holding onto your chin.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” you pulled away from his grasp.

“Well, I was, but you were getting tired and I’m not really into fucking women who are unconscious.”

“I guess I can’t fault you for being a gentleman,” you sighed.

“Gentleman? That’s the bare minimum. How come here.” You leaned forward, leaning into his touch. You opened your legs and he was quick to slot between them, trying to get closer to you. He continued to remove your makeup, trying to be gentle as he did it. You could get used to it. The two of you having a night out, him holding your hair when you drank too much and him taking you home and removing your makeup when you were too drunk. God, you were really was falling for you. You were fucked.

“All done,” he threw the towel to the side and grabbed onto your waist to help you from the counter. He took you by the hand and led you back to his bed. He helped you under the covers and made sure that you were comfortable before removing his pants and throwing on some sweatpants. He then turned off the lamp beside him and got under the covers and was quick to move over to you, taking you in his arms. He rested his chin on top of your head and you buried your face into his chest. He tangled his legs with yours and pulled you even closer, brushing his lips against your forehead before pressing a kiss to it.

You were so comfortable that you were quickly slipping into sleep. Your face was against Eddie’s warm chest with his arms wrapped around your waist and you were very content being there, knowing that he would protect you if anything happened.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing

“Goodnight, Eds,” you sighed dreamily and Eddie loved hearing that sound, feeling at ease that you were content. Before you could fully let sleep consume you, you pulled back to look at him one last time.

“Can I get one last kiss? I really think that would help me sleep.” What was he going to do? Say no? With you looking at him with that adorable sleepy smile? “Please?”

“Well, since you said, please.” He tilted your chin up and pressed a featherlight kiss to your lips. He pulled away only to find you glaring at him and he just let out a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that not good enough for you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Ouch, doll,” he put his hand up to his chest. “You hurt me again.” You removed his hand and pressed a kiss to the spot he had been covering.

“Better?”

“Much, thank you. Alright, I’ll give you one more kiss and then we have to go to sleep.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Tilted your head back again and captured your lips between his, this kiss slow and sweet just like all of his others. For being such an intimidating looking guy, he was very good at being a sweetheart. Looks really could be deceiving.

“Alright,” he sighed, pulling away from you. “Bedtime, angel,” he wrapped his arms around your waist again and pulled you to his chest. His chin once again rested on top of your head and he closed his eyes, for once feeling comfortable. All of his nightmares seemed to vanish, the only thing taking over his brain being you and your beautiful face.

Eddie woke up to the sound of a high pitched ringing. He looked to his left and found you on the other side of the bed, looking like an angel, still deep in sleep. So he wasn’t dreaming. All of that stuff that he had done to you had very much happened. It wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He watched you for a second, noticing the very obvious hickey on your neck. He loved watching you come undone at his simple touches. He loved hearing those sounds come from your pretty lips. God, your lips. He could have kissed them all night long and never gotten bored. They were so soft and sweet just like you. You were so nice and caring and he wondered how Chris could treat you like shit, especially with all of the things you had done for him. If Eddie had been in his place, he would have put a ring on it a long time ago.

The ringing was still going and Eddie turned over, reaching for the phone that was by the clock. He put the phone to his ear, expecting to be met by yelling from his manager, Rick.

“Hello,” he answered, his voice still filled with sleep.

“I swear to god if you’re not here in the next five minutes, I’m going to rip the strings off your guitar one fucking string at a time so that you’ll be on stage looking like a goddamn idiot,” Rick warned through grit teeth.

“God, Richard, you’re so dramatic.”

“I swear, if you were up late with one of those groupies-“

“She’s not a groupie,” he corrected.

“Oh, sorry,” Rick apologized, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or should I say whore.”

“She’s not a whore either,” he looked over at you, still sleeping peacefully. “Look, I’ll be there, damn,” he pulled the phone away from his ear then immediately put it back. “And send a car for (y/n), will you?” He slammed the phone down on the receiver then looked at the clock and swore to himself, practically flinging himself off the bed. He was going to be late for rehearsal. He rushed to put on some jeans he had left in the floor and a t shirt that was hanging on the knob of the bathroom door.

All of the commotion stirred you from your sleep. You watched Eddie throw on his shirt and you wondered where he was going to early. You glanced at the clock and realized that it was noon. Your flight was at four and you were going to have to run like hell if you wanted to change it.

Eddie rushed into the bathroom and quickly brushed his teeth before heading back into bedroom.

“Where are you going?” You asked him, trying to be flirtatious, but he only looked at you with a stressed expression.

“Got rehearsal, doll,” he sighed, grabbing one of his shoes and throwing it on, not even bothering to tie it then grabbed another shoe and put it on.

“Those don’t match,” you let out a laugh and he looked down, noticing that he was wearing a sneaker and a boot. He took off the sneaker and threw on the other boot before rushing over to give you a kiss.

“When’s your flight?” He asked and you almost didn’t want to answer him. If you did, then the whole thing would be ruined. You just couldn’t say goodbye.

“Four,” you grumbled.

“I’ll still be at the festival then, so we can say goodbye at the car.” You wanted to go with him, but you didn’t feel like you had right to. Hookups didn’t stand side stage.

“You’ll still call me?” You were really hoping that he was going to call you.

“I’d be an idiot not to.” You gave him another kiss before changing back into your dress, handing the shirt back to him.

“No, keep it,” he pushed it back to your chest.

“I can’t take your shirt, Ed.” Even though you knew he had plenty to spare, you felt bad taking it, even though you really wanted to.

“Sure you can. And you look way better in it than I do.”

“Oh, shut up.” You put your shoes back on and made sure you have everything that was in your purse before heading to the door. Eddie opened it for you and the two of you headed down the hallway, Eddie making sure to grab hold of your hand as you did so. You were really hoping that he wasn’t going to be a stranger. You couldn’t stand not seeing him again especially after how close the two of you had gotten in just one night.

Eddie pressed the down button for the elevator then pulled you into his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. The elevator doors quickly opened, and Eddie urged you inside, the two of you still attached. He pressed you against the wall, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, giving them yet another squeeze. He licked into your mouth and you opened up, letting it find yours. His hands found your ass and he gave it a little pinch, causing up to let out a little squeal.

“Jump,” he commanded and you did as you were told, totally confident that he was going to catch you and he did. Your legs wrapped and his waist and he was quick to pin you to the wall again. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Should’ve done this last night. You look so pretty with your legs wrapped around me, sweetheart.” That only made you tighten your legs around his waist. He pressed his lips to your neck gently and let out a whistle at the mark he had made the night before.

“Oh, how scandalous,” he chuckled. “This is a gnarly hickey. Who did this to you?”

“You did,” you smiled and a full blown grin made its way upon his face.

“That’s right, princess,” he ran his nose along your jaw. “Guess that means you belong to me now.”

“Guess it does,” you responded nonchalantly. You knew Eddie was joking but you definitely wouldn’t have minded being his. The elevator doors opened and Eddie was quick to drop you gently to your feet, grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you out. You tried not to laugh at the older couple giving the two of you disgusted looks as you headed for the entrance.

You got outside where there was a car that Eddie assumed Rick had called for him and he pulled your body to his, pressing yet another kiss to your lips, this one lingering longer than the others.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get back from the festival, alright?” He kissed you again.

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. Eddie opened the car door for you.

“Your carriage awaits, m’lady,” he gestured to the backseat and you hesitantly got in before he closed the door behind you. You waved at him from the window and he waved back before heading over to the car that was waiting for him.

You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t the end. He was going to call you and you’d meet again. He’d fly to you if he had to. And he would, no questions asked. He had all of this money and he’d gladly spend every cent just to see you one more time.

You told the driver where you were staying and the car took you there. Now that you were away from Eddie, you were forced to think about the near future. You were about to go back to what was left of the life you shared with Chris and you didn’t know what you were going to do. All you did know was that you had every intention of changing your flight to an earlier one. There was no fucking way that you were going to sit next to that dickhead for five hours with nowhere else to go.

You entered the motel, definitely looking a little worse for wear. You hated that you had to leave Eddie and that you actually had to go back home. You hated having to finish packing your suitcase. You hated everything. But all you could think about was Eddie and the way he had made you feel the night before. You couldn’t help but have wanted him to be there to help you out. And he would have in a heartbeat. He would have made you stand behind him while he called Chris out on his bullshit. But he wasn’t. He had to go to rehearsal for the next day of Rhythm Riot so you’d have to face Chris alone.

You reluctantly unlocked the door and stepped inside, caught off guard by the absolute wreck it was. It was as if a tornado ripped through it considering the state it was in. Chris’s back was to you and he whipped around to look at you. His face was beet red and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. His fists were clenched so tight that you were convinced that one of his veins was going to explode.

“Where the fuck were you?” He asked through grit teeth.

“Out,” you responded nonchalantly as you closed the door behind you. You began to gather your stuff from the floor to put back inside your suitcase. You put the thing on the bed and started throwing your belongings into it, not even bothering to do it neatly. You didn’t have time for that.

“Out where?” He hated how nonchalant you were being. He assumed that he was still your boyfriend so he thought he deserved real answers, not your vague ones.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You raised an eyebrow, loving how angry you were making him.

“Yeah!” He yelled. “I would! I was up all night waiting for you!” You paused for a moment, looking him in the eye. “I needed you to pack my suitcase.”

“I’m not packing anything. We’re broken up, Chris, remember?” You put one of your t-shirts into the case then turned to face him. You then turned back and grabbed more of your clothes from the floor and piled it on top of the others. You moved your hair away from your neck, feeling it becoming sweaty because of how hot the room had become because Chris had the window open despite it being scorching hot outside considering that it was June in California.

“What the fuck is that?” He pointed to your neck. You knew exactly what he was referring to but wanted to play dumb. You just wanted to have some fun.

“What’s what?” You tilted your head to the side, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“That!” He pointed to your neck again.

“Chris, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He rushed over to you and grabbed your face roughly in his hands, turning your head to the side so he could get a better look at the purple mark on your neck.

“This,” he looked directly at the mark.

“Oh,” you let out a giggle. “That. Why don’t you ask Eddie?”

“Munson?” He let go of you completely and turned away, rubbing his hands along his face.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I don’t recall.”

“Do not fuck with me, you bitch.” He pointed at you. “Did you…did you fuck him?”

“I did,” you confirmed with a nod. “And he gave me more pleasure than you ever could.” All Chris could do in response was let out a scream in frustration. You were quick to grab the rest of your things and zip it up before racing out of the room.

You got to the elevator and hurriedly pressed the button to go down to the lobby, hoping that Chris wasn’t following you. The door to the suite never opened so you let out a breath and got onto the elevator, letting it take you to the lobby. You went to the front desk and made sure to let the woman behind it know that Chris would be paying for the room you shared. You left after that, making your way to the airport.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #rockstar!eddie munson

489 notes · View notes

lnfours · 9 months ago

Note

currently thinking about how lando would comfort the reader after he finds her crying on her birthday (totally not self indulgent or bc ive been crying about my birthday and how my mom called me to get upset at me and not to tell me happy birthday or anything)

:( i’m so sorry anon, i hope your day got better! also, happy birthday!! my dms are always open if you need anything!! i hope you enjoy this! ❤️❤️

cleaning out my inbox

you sat on the back deck of the house party, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. you tried to forget what had happened, tried to not let it ruin your special day, but it was all you could think about. a sentence burned into your brain that just so happened to ruin your whole entire mood.

lando had gone around the party asking all your mutual friends where you had slipped off to. he was normally good at keeping an eye on you when you weren’t attached to the hip, but one conversation with alex and george and you had magically disappeared.

“think she’s outside, mate,” ethan said, “said something about getting a call from her mum earlier. haven’t seen her since, so good chance she’s still out there.”

lando sucked in a breath before smiling softly to his friend, “cheers, mate.”

he made his way through the sea of bodies that had somehow managed to pack themselves into max’s home. he reached the back door, heart resuming its normal rhythm as he saw you sitting on the steps. you spun to look at who was behind the door opening, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of your curly haired boyfriend.

“baby, you okay?”

you shook your head as he joined you on the step, digging the heels of your palms into your eye sockets to keep yourself from crying even harder. he felt his heart drop, sinking to the lower step to be face to face with you.

“hey, hey, hey,” he said, pulling your hands from your face, “what’s wrong baby? what happened?”

you shook your head, “she didn’t even tell me happy birthday,” you let out a soft sob, “she just yelled, about anything she could think of.”

he frowned, reaching up and wiping the tears from your face, “i’m sorry, love.”

you were used to it by now, and lando knew how things were with your family. a rocky relationship was an understatement.

"hey," he said softly, "how about we ditch this place and go get some food?"

your eyebrows raised in question, "you mean, like... leave the party?"

he placed his cup down, smiling as he offered you his hands, "only if you want to, we don't have to."

you twisted your lips in thought, knowing that if you went back inside you'd just be putting on a fake smile to all your friends, "can we go to that place with the fancy candles?"

"we can go wherever you want, baby. it's your birthday."

and that was that, you were placing your hands in his. he helped you up from off the step and led you through the backyard, slipping out through the gate and away from the booming music in the house.

493 notes · View notes

sixaus-meaa · 3 months ago

Text

Six The Musical as Messages pt19

(special edition: the Ladies In Waiting)

María / Maggie / Joan / Bessie / Rocky / Maud

19 notes · View notes

l0v3sickl0s3r · 1 year ago

Text

noted

ALSO THE WAY U DRAW EOCKY IS SO CUTE RAHHHHHHHHHHH

Listening to Game Grumps while drawing is great :))

#artists on tumblr #digital art #lackadaisy #lackadaisy rocky #cat #finding a pace to draw to is essential #it creates a rhythm #also that's a glass of water in his hands #wait lemme check #omg it is #me and my blind arse

224 notes · View notes

camelotsscribe · 5 months ago

Text

a mothers love, rheanyra targaryen

pairing: rhaenyra x daughter!reader summary: rhaenyra targaryen, despite her responsibilities, spends a cherished day with her child, bonding over stories and a dragon ride. she later gives a heartfelt letter to her child, expressing her unwavering love and strength, ensuring they feel her presence even when she’s not around. warnings: fluff my etsy shop: camelot's scribe | letters from your favorite character

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

the sun had barely risen over dragonstone, casting a soft, golden hue across the island fortress. the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore created a soothing rhythm, one that you had come to associate with home. as you made your way through the winding corridors of the castle, the faint smell of the sea lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of burning candles and freshly baked bread.

in the heart of dragonstone, your mother, rhaenyra targaryen, sat by the large wooden table in her chambers, poring over maps and letters. her presence was commanding, her silver-gold hair cascading down her back, and her eyes, the same striking violet as yours, filled with determination and love.

"good morning, mother," you greeted her, entering the room with a small smile.

rhaenyra looked up, her stern expression softening as she saw you. "good morning, my sweet dragon," she replied, her voice warm and melodic. "come, sit with me."

you crossed the room and took a seat beside her. despite the weight of her responsibilities, rhaenyra always made time for you, her child. it was a promise she had made to herself and one she never broke.

"how are you feeling today?" she asked, reaching out to gently touch your hand.

"better," you replied, though the concern in her eyes told you she knew better. "i was hoping we could spend some time together today."

rhaenyra nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "of course. i've finished most of my duties for the morning. what would you like to do?"

"can we go for a ride on syrax?" you asked, your eyes lighting up at the thought of flying with your mother on her magnificent dragon.

rhaenyra's smile widened, and she stood up, offering her hand. "i think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

together, you made your way to the dragon pit, where syrax awaited. the great golden dragon let out a low rumble as she saw rhaenyra approach, her eyes gleaming with recognition. with practiced ease, rhaenyra helped you climb onto syrax's back before mounting herself.

as syrax took to the skies, you felt the familiar rush of wind against your face, the exhilaration of flight filling your heart. rhaenyra's arms wrapped securely around you, her warmth and strength a comforting presence.

"you know, your father loved to fly," rhaenyra said, her voice carrying over the roar of the wind. "it was one of the things we bonded over when we were young."

you turned to look at her, curiosity piqued. "will you tell me more about him?"

rhaenyra's eyes softened, and she nodded. "of course, my love. your father was a brave and noble man, with a heart full of passion and fire. he loved deeply and fiercely, much like you."

as she spoke, you felt a sense of connection to a past you had never known, a bond that transcended time and space. the stories of your father's bravery and love filled you with pride and a deeper understanding of your own heritage.

hours passed as you flew together, sharing stories and laughter. when you finally returned to dragonstone, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light over the castle.

later that evening, as you prepared for bed, a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. rhaenyra entered, holding a folded piece of parchment in her hand.

"i wrote something for you," she said, her voice soft and filled with emotion. "i thought it might bring you comfort when i'm not around."

you took the letter from her, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. "thank you, mother."

rhaenyra kissed your forehead, her touch tender and loving. "goodnight, my sweet dragon. sleep well."

as she left the room, you unfolded the letter and began to read:

my dearest child,

in the quiet moments when i am alone with my thoughts, my heart often turns to you. i see in you the strength and spirit of our ancestors, the fire of the targaryens burning brightly within your soul. it is a fire that will guide you through the darkest of times and illuminate your path when all seems lost.

know that my love for you is boundless, a fierce and unwavering force that no distance or time can diminish. you are my pride, my joy, and my greatest treasure. every decision i make, every battle i fight, is for you and our family's future.

when the weight of the world feels too heavy, remember the stories i have told you of our ancestors' bravery and resilience. you come from a line of kings and queens, warriors and dreamers, and you carry their legacy within you.

i may not always be by your side, but my love and my spirit will forever be with you. be brave, my sweet dragon, and let your heart guide you. trust in yourself, for you have a strength within you that is unmatched.

with all my love, mother

tears filled your eyes as you read the letter, each word a testament to your mother's love and devotion. you folded it carefully and placed it under your pillow, a precious reminder of the bond you shared.

as you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of peace and comfort, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your mother's love would always be there to guide and protect you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

author's note: do you want a letter from rhaenyra just like the one about but more detailed? check my etsy for detailed personalized letters from any character you wish. click the link below:

314 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 3 months ago

Text

When Fire Meets Fate

Part 13

Request: Yes or No

Summary: With war comes the death of innocents, and Luke was merely the first of many. Upon learning of Prince Jaehaerys demise, (Y/N) and Rhaenyra are forced to confront the man behind it.

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, spoilers for S2, mentions of the death of Jaehaerys,

Had to deal with a hurricane, power outages, the ongoing process of moving, no wifi, and a sore knee before I could finish this part😭 the universe really said hold your horses but you know what? i thank it for making me wait cause i just got the book from libby this morning

~~~

The waves crashed against the rocky cliffs, droplets of salty water rising and falling with each continuous crash that filled the air with the comforting smell of the ocean. He listened to it, the heartbeat of the ocean, and felt his beat along with the rhythm as he swirled his ring around his finger. His thoughts refused to stop, refused to ease into something comprehensible. The Realm had been at peace for many decades under the rule of the Old King and King Viserys, flourishing and blissful; now like his mind, it was broken. War... such a frightening word. The very thought of it made his insides twist and his throat tighten.

"My Lord," (Y/N) tore his eyes away from the dark water and pushed himself away from the balcony to face the troubled Ser Erryk. "The Small Council has called an urgent meeting with news from King's Landing."

A multitude of things raced through his mind as he strode through the halls of the Stone Drum, his unease and confusion heightening when he noticed the grim looks on a few of the lords' faces. Rhaenyra appeared as puzzled as him, her eyes flickering to him questioningly, but she found no answer in his features. She watched him take his seat beside Rhaenys before she turned to Maester Gerardys, giving him a small nod to speak his piece.

"Tragic news from King's Landing, Your Grace, My Lord," Maester Gerardys began shakily, his lips forming a grim line. "There was a funeral procession this morrow for the son of Aegon and Helaena Targaryen who was slain in the middle of the night. It is yet unclear how the Keep itself was breached. The boy's head was severed from his body. Thousands witnessed the procession."

(Y/N) felt the world still for a moment. The crashing of the waves ceased and the crackling of the fire grew muffled as the information settled into his bones. He inhaled deeply through his nose and held it, his eyes bouncing around the designs carved into the table. Helaena... sweet little Helaena, the very definition of innocence and curiosity. He bit his inner cheek when Alicent slipped into his mind and a dull ache in his stomach awakened.

Rhaenyra stared forward, completely aghast by the revelation, by the underlying tone and unspoken words reinforced by the suspicion and accusatory glances around the table. "And.. they are accusing me of having a hand in this?"

Maester Gerardys's brows pulled into a sympathetic furrow. "It appears so." He confirmed softly, and (Y/N) resisted the urge to slump back into his seat, his mind still working on who would even think of bringing such harm to gentle Helaena, much less to a boy as young as her son. "There have been messages sent to that effect throughout the Realm."

"We must send our own messages, denying this vile allegation," Rhaenyra ordered swiftly as she stepped out from behind her chair to stand before it, her fingertips pressing into the Painted Table. There was a flicker in her eyes, one filled with worry, likely for the lives of their own young children.

"I will do so at once, but I am not sure they will be received in good faith."

"And we must double our guard, here and in Driftmark," Rhaenyra added, smoothing out the back of her dress as she lowered herself down into her seat, prompting the rest of the lords to follow suit. She swallowed and lifted her head, sparing her husband a glance before observing her lords. "There will be swift retribution in one form or another-"

"I have seen to it, Your Grace." Lord Celtigar interrupted, drawing (Y/N)'s gaze away from his wife and onto the older man with a stern glare. The older man pointedly avoided looking in his direction as Jace strode into the room and stood at the end of the table, sharing an encouraging glance with Lord Celtigar.

"Let me fly out on Vermax." Jace offered and both of his parents snapped their heads toward him. Lucerys faint laughter echoed in his father's ears, the image of his eyes that so often reminded (Y/N) of Gwayne's flashed in his mind. The shaky breath Rhaenyra released was subtle but he picked it up nonetheless. "Rhaenys is needed in the Gullet and I can watch for moves from King's Landing."

The answer lacked hesitation: "No."

Lord Celtigar inhaled deeply and turned back the Rhaenyra, clearing his throat lightly to garner her attention once more. "It must be said that the damage to our position is immeasurable, at a time when we most need loyalty to our cause." He spoke carefully, clasping his hands behind his back with the accusation in his tone evident.

"But it is a lie." Rhaenyra scoffed, her eyes wide as she looked amongst her council when none of the lords bothered to raise their disagreement of Lord Celtigar. "Having lost my own son, that I would inflict such a thing on Helaena, of all people. An innocent."

A moment of solemn silence passed over the room and (Y/N) pushed himself back further into his seat with a quiet sigh. His thumb pressed and rubbed against the ring of his index finger, tilting his head to look toward Jace once more only to notice the withering stare Rhaenys sent across the table toward the Targaryen sat opposite of him. He turned to the prince and felt his heart skip a beat at the look in Daemon's eyes.

Seven fucking Hells.

Ser Alfred cleared his throat next, his eyes lingering on Lord Celtigar before sliding over to Rhaenyra. "The death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon was a shock and an insult. A mother so aggrieved might, naturally, seek relief in retribution-"

"Are you suggesting, Ser Alfred-" Rhaenyra shot up from her seat, the lilac of her eyes bright with offense and voice heavy with anger. "-that my grief drove me to order the decapitation of a child?"

"I merely thought, perhaps, an action taken in haste-"

"Mind yourself," Rhaenys steely voice cut through the air for once, and the tone of the older princess proved enough to silence the men at the table.

With a quiet scoff and light shake of her head, Rhaenyra sat back down in her seat as (Y/N) rose from his. He met her eyes and she managed a smile, one that he could not return when he flickered his eyes between her and Daemon. Her brows furrowed and she turned to look at her uncle, studying his features until slowly but surely, the horror and realization dawned on her. Her brows softened then and her eyes widened, lips parting with a quiet inhale.

"Let it be known that Her Grace nor I ordered the sickening murder of a child." (Y/N) began icily, his hands folding before him and vexed stare lingering on Daemon before it moved onto Ser Alfred and then Lord Celtigar. "Helaena is a gentle soul and she has never spoken ill of any of us despite whatever poison she has been fed throughout the years. To imply that Her Grace would purposefully bring harm upon her sister and nephew, that she would stoop as low as Aemond did, is a great offense and insult. It certainly says a lot of the men you are as well, to not only believe such a thing but to regardless defend it. I should not be standing here like a disappointed parent lecturing their children when many of you are men old enough to be my father. We expect better from the men of this council."

When Rhaenyra rose from her seat once more, her steely gaze still locked on Daemon, the rest of the council did as well. (Y/N) offered her his arm and she took it, a quiet and tired sigh escaping her. "If that is all the news to be discussed this afternoon then this meeting is over. Thank you, Maester Gerardys, for informing us as soon as possible." The lords dipped their heads and bowed in return, waiting for the couple to leave before they returned to their previous tasks.

Rhaenyra and (Y/N) strolled to their bedchambers, only stopping to have a servant summon Daemon and locate Baela. He arrived moments later, his attention on the floor until he found a seat and slumped down in it as if it were all a mere inconvenience. (Y/N) sighed heavily and placed his arms atop the nearest chair, his teeth grinding slightly as irritation swirled in his stomach like a storm waiting to reach land.

"Tell me it is not true." Rhaenyra stared at her uncle as her calm demeanor chipped away when he simply poured himself a cup of wine and took a sip from it. "Did you truly send assassins to murder children in their beds?"

"I sent the queen's vengeance for her son." He answered quietly, swirling the cup around as if it hadn't just admitted to being partial to the death of a child. (Y/N) rubbed his palm over his face in exasperation as Rhaenyra walked forward toward her uncle with purpose.

"What did you tell this vengeance? What did you say to him, Daemon, that a boy lies dead and I am accused of killing him?" Rhaenyra's hands slammed down against the table, her shoulders heaving and necklace jingling with her movements. (Y/N) studied her but remained silent. He'd be a fool to intervene between two dragons, even more so when they were Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen; perhaps the most stubborn and fiery of the family.

"Mysaria provided me with names and a subterfuge." Daemon started and raised the cup to his lips again, his adams apple bobbing with each swallow and lips growing tainted in a subtle red tint. (Y/N)'s memory flickered back to Ser Erryk and the stowaway, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I was clear in my instructions: Aemond, the brother of Aegon the Usurper. I cannot be responsible for a mista-"

"Cannot be responsible?!" Rhaenyra glowered, the disbelief and annoyance in her tone finally prompting Daemon to meet her eyes. She leaned back, wetting her lips and taking slow steps closer to the man before bracing her hand against the table once more and leaning toward him with barely contained anger. "If Aemond was not to be found, what were your instructions then?"

"They did not concern, in any way, that of a little child."

"You said that it was your aim to spill Hightower blood, and if not Aemond, then anyone would do."

"No."

"You have wounded me!" Rhaenyra exhaled weakly, leaning back with softened, near-watery eyes. "Weakened my claim to the throne, my ability to raise an army, my standing among my own council!"

"I said no." Daemon asserted more quietly, his own eyes softening ever so slightly at the emotion in her eyes before hardening again when she scoffed under her breath and leaned back. Rhaenyra stared at him, her fingers curling into fists before uncurling again, the loose strands of her hair swaying when she shook her head.

"I don't believe you." She told him, stalking away from him with a chest rapidly rising and falling. Rhaenyra's brows moved into a fixed furrow, her lips pulled down into a deep, disappointed frown. She returned to her husband's side, her lips parting to release the quickened breaths and eyes fluttering shut to calm herself. (Y/N)'s hand grazed hers and she took it, rubbing her thumb over his skin as if to soothe herself.

With an inhale, she looked at Daemon. "And so we come to it, at long last." Her words came out quiet and hurt, the implication blatant enough for Daemon to lean back in his seat with narrowed eyes. "Cannot trust you, Daemon. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. And when I was a child, I took this as a challenge to prove myself worthy of being your equal. But I am older now. I have challenges enough." The more she spoke, the louder she got, the hold on (Y/N)'s hand growing tighter and tighter until she released him to begin pacing.

"I have served you faithfully." Daemon managed out through gritted teeth, his fingers drumming along the armrest of his chair.

"Have you?" Rhaenyra snapped. "Or have you used me as a tool with which to try and grasp at your stolen inheritance?"

Her words seemingly struck a nerve within the older prince; shooting up from his chair and smacking away his cup and pitcher. The items flew across the room, clattering against a candle holder and then onto the floor where wine and wax mixed. Rhaenyra flinched and staggered background, her movements combined with Daemon's outburst instinctively prompting (Y/N) into slotting himself between the two before the ill-tempered prince could reach his wife.

Daemon stopped before him, his nostrils flaring with each deep inhale he took and wild violet eyes piercing right into him. (Y/N)'s heart rammed in his ribcage and every nerve in his body demanded he get away from the prince but he remained rooted in his spot, shoulders squared and ears picking up each ragged breath from his wife behind him. His eyes flickered away when Daemon raised his hand and the prince hesitated, his features contorting as different emotions flickered through his eyes before he reached forward, his calloused hands pressing into (Y/N)'s cheeks and thumbs roughly rubbing over his cheekbones.

"It was I you entrusted with dealing with Vaemond Velaryon; it was I who drank and feasted with you all these years in Dragonstone; it was I who encouraged Rhaenyra time and time again to pursue her desire for you. I am not your enemy." Daemon spoke lowly and his head lifted to address Rhaenyra. "When Ser Erryk brought you the crown, did I not hand it to your husband so that he may place it upon your brow?"

"Yes," Rhaenyra breathed. "But before that, you sought to lead a council of war while I labored in my bedchamber without you once making an attempt to ensure my health and safety. And afterward, when I thought it meet to consider the terms our foes put before us-"

"A folly!" Daemon spat, releasing (Y/N) to whirl around and stalk away from them. Rhaenyra placed her hand on her husband's arm and swiftly checked his face for bruising before following after her uncle as he crossed the room. (Y/N) rubbed his tender flesh, feeling it tingle lightly under his fingertips. "A folly to give up my brother's throne to the traitorous lies of Otto Hightower!"

"My throne, Daemon, mine!" Rhaenyra shouted and Daemon slowed down, his jaw visibly clenched as he turned to look at her. Rhaenyra's shoulders slumped, soft panting leaving her. "I think you used my words as an excuse to take your own revenge, to indulge the darkness you keep sheathed within you like a blade."

Daemon sneered, brushing past her to rest his arms across the chair behind her. "You think me some kind of monster-"

"I don't know what to think of you," Rhaenyra admitted. "I don't know what you are, or who it is you serve-"

Daemon laughed then in disbelief. "Am I not on my way, even now, to Harrenhal to raise an army in your name, Rhaenyra?! Yours!"

Rhaenyra shook her head again, more lightly, and tears glittered in her eyes, her body turning to take some steps away from him. Her shoulders trembled with an inhale and she faced him, the tears threatening to fall from her lashes. "Do you..." She began softly, quietly. (Y/N) pressed his lips together and retrieved the pitcher and cup Daemon knocked from the ground, setting them on the table and meeting the prince's eyes. "...accept me as your queen and ruler? Or do you cling, even now, to what you think you lost?"

Daemon's gaze slowly drew away from the lord to look at her. "What I think I lost?" He echoed just as softly.

"You did not lose it." Rhaenyra chuckled despite her quivering lips, her dress kicking up the dust along the floor when it dragged as she walked toward them. "You gave it away because you thought ever and only of your own glory, and not of my father in his grief who needed you!"

"Your father was a coward who knew I was the stronger son, that I was the leader of men, and he was afraid to be seen in my shadow. Do you believe he made you heir because of your great wisdom? Because of your virtue?" Rhaenyra's lips rolled into her mouth and her arms raised, smacking against her sides and body twisting away from them again. "Or did he merely use you as a tool to put me in my place because he was afraid of me?"

"You were disinherited because you could not help yourself, Daemon." (Y/N) leaned forward slightly, bringing the attention of the two Targaryens onto him. Daemon's eyes narrowed again and he straightened up, his grip on the chair turning his knuckles pure white. "Your inability to keep your mouth shut disinherited you, Daemon. What do you think would have happened if King Viserys allowed you time and time again to get away with insulting the King of Westeros? A brotherly spat behind doors is one thing but to mock his dead child and by extension his dead wife before the smallfolk? They would think him weak, Daemon. You gave him no choice and proceeded to prove it as the right decision by throwing a tantrum like a child!"

"You-"

"And more so, it is not an achievement to believe your own kin was afraid of you. The downfall of any house, of any family, begins when kin turns against kin. It has been said time and time again, why do you think Rhaenyra desires peace? If dragons dance, dragons will fall, and with them their riders; who will that leave if not ashes and bones? Parentless children? The Realm ripped apart and struggling? By slaughtering a child, you are no better than Aemond."

Daemon stared at him unblinking. "It was a mistake." He hissed lowly.

"A mistake is making the wrong move during training... spilling the blood of an innocent is a choice; one that I, and everyone else who has come to meet you, knows you capable of making. You... you relish in fear and bloodshed... and that is how you will die if you do not accept change within yourself. How can we keep you close when we cannot be sure what you will do next?" (Y/N) watched him, exhaustion clinging to his body and seeping into his voice.

Daemon peeled himself away from the chair and stormed past Rhaenyra, slamming the door leading into their bedchambers shut. Rhaenyra staggered forward and slumped down in the chair, bracing her arms on the table and resting her head on her hands. She sniffled quietly and sighed shakily, her head lifting when (Y/N) moved closer and ran his fingertips through her hair.

"Daemon is... complicated." (Y/N) reminded her softly, lowering himself down to sit beside her. "But he may yet prove himself in Harrenhal, Rhaenyra."

"One can only dream of such a thing." Rhaenyra sighed, her hand finding his and bringing it to her lips so she could press a soft kiss to the back of his hand. Despite the conversation sucking much energy and emotion of out them, he gave her a gentle smile."But for our sake... I hope you are right."

The doors creaked when they opened and Baela strolled inside, clasping her hands before her and dipping her head. "You wish to see me, Your Grace, My Lord?" Baela questioned softly, stepping further into the room. The splatter of wine and a candle Daemon knocked over in his outburst drawing her attention to the floor momentarily. She grimaced.

Rhaenyra rose, offering her an exhausted smile. "When morning comes, take Moondancer and keep a watch on King's Landing. I need to know which course they take next. We depend on you, Baela. Stay high and keep your distance." She ordered gently, her hand still clinging to (Y/N)'s. Baela straightened up at her words, a familiar twinkle passing over her eyes that brought a small smile to (Y/N)'s face. "We can afford no further mistakes."

"I will be vigilant." The young girl assured, glancing toward the floor again. Her lips formed a few words, seemingly attempting to find the right ones to say before she cleared her throat and tilted her head slightly. "My father?" She pushed gently, her brows knitting together slightly and a flicker of concern passing over her face.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips firmly together, her shoulders lowering with a heavy exhale. "He must follow his own path." She said simply, and Baela's face fell with a harsh swallow and nod.

"Baela," (Y/N) called softly when she turned and began making her way toward the door again. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him questioningly. "You remind me of your mother more and more with each passing day. She'd be proud of you." Baela inhaled sharply, her eyes and features softening at his words. She gave him a thankful smile and turned away to leave the room.

Once the door closed again, (Y/N) leaned back in the chair and gazed at their hands, watching the glimmer of her rings in the sunlight pouring through the window. "The woman he spoke of... Mysaria, the White Worm, was a stowaway onboard one of our ships. Ser Erryk claimed she wished to speak with me when she was taken but I allowed Daemon to see to her. She may have information for us, about King's Landing or possibly Daemon. But we mustn't hold her prisoner without knowing her intentions and what she may desire, Nyra."

"I see." Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes downcast and tired. She brought a hand to her stomach, massaging her palm into the clothed flesh that still ached from the painful labor. "Let us speak to her, then, as soon as possible."

(Y/N) studied her, taking in the watery glaze in her eyes and the tightness of her furrow. A semblance of guilt, perhaps? He couldn't be too sure. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze to draw her attention toward him and tilted his head questioningly. His wife exhaled shakily and released his hand, her back turned away from him and palms running over the skirt of her red dress.

"I... I cannot help but be... relieved." Rhaenyra admitted quietly. "If Aegon were to die, the Greens would have turned to his child, to the boy. They would have rallied behind him, raised him up against me. My hand would have been forced, eventually, (Y/N). Just as it is now being forced."

"You cannot allow anyone else to hear those words, Rhaenyra. You have spoken of peace time and time again-"

"Yes, yes, I know," She exhaled shakily, her fingertips pushing back a strand of hair. "I... I do not want to be named a kinslayer. I do not wish to follow in the footsteps of Maegor the Cruel. Tales say he was cursed by the gods for slaying his nephew and bled on the throne for all to see. I cannot risk it. No one will follow a kinslaying Targaryen again."

(Y/N) set his hand upon her back and drew her into his chest, hooking his chin over her shoulder and feeling her sink back into him. Rhaenyra's eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting to lean her head against his. "It is admirable to search for peace when many believe bloodshed will solve all problems. A good ruler seeks what is best for their people. The Greens are led by those chasing after their own desires." He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her neck and leaned back.

"Let us speak with this White Worm."

"You barely touched your supper, Rhaenyra,"

In all the haste and preparations, (Y/N) had nearly forgotten what the scent of an old book smelled like, eager to be read after many ages. The gallery itself was ancient and filled with books and scrolls primarily used in teachings by maesters and septas but now they found use in providing ancient advice to Rhaenyra. Her ancestors, she reminded him, were no strangers to war and infighting. She sought out their knowledge and strategies with no older relative apart from Rhaenys to provide it.

"I was not hungry," Rhaenyra responded, clutching a book to her chest and approaching the table covered in scrolls and candles. She set it down and flipped it open, sorting through the pages written in Valyrian and running her fingertips over the illustrations of ancestors long dead. She pursed her lips when he stuck a plate of sweets in her face, blocking her vision with sights of honey-covered biscuits. He lifted his brows and she rolled her eyes, lips threatening to tug up into a smile. Plucking one sweet from the plate, she stuffed it in her mouth and pushed aside the plate to resume her reading.

The clanking of metal brought their attention to the entryway where Ser Steffon entered with a woman following. He dipped his head in greeting before motioning to the woman. "The Lady Mysaria, Your Grace, My Lord." (Y/N) had expected an older woman deep into her later years but Mysaria seemed youthful in appearance. She was skinny, her cheekbones prominent against her tan skin, and her long dark hair was messy and falling over her shoulders. A former lover of Daemon, no doubt, given her history in Flea Bottom.

"Thank you, Ser Steffon." (Y/N) dismissed the knight and leaned back against the table, folding his arms over his stomach as he took in the White Worm. She shifted from foot to foot, uncertainty in her posture, even when she bowed her head. She hardly seemed like much of a threat, though most succumbed to nerves when presented to a Targaryen, he supposed.

Taking a seat at the table, Rhaenyra rested her arms upon the table, her fingers lacing together as she raked her eyes over the woman. "You're aware of yesterday's events in King's Landing? Tell me what part you played in their unfolding."

Mysaria glanced between the two of them, her brows slowly furrowing. "I had nothing to do with it." She answered quietly, voice heavy with an accent known to those with YiTish heritage.

At her response, Rhaenyra scoffed. "I know you are entwined with the usurpers, that you aided them in denying me my birthright."

"I took profits from an inevitability," Mysaria admitted with a slow nod, her dark eyes jumping away from them and cracked lips pursing. "I regret it now."

"I'm sure you do," Rhaenyra muttered, staring at her for a moment longer before rising from the chair. "Who are you?"

"A prisoner," Mysaria answered, eyes jumping toward (Y/N) when Rhaenyra drew closer with a widened plea. "I gave Daemon two names. That is the extent of it. And I did not wish to do that much. He said it was the price of my freedom." She seemed to grow unsettled when Rhaenyra remained silent and began circling her, visibly swallowing. "Does.. he say otherwise?"

"Daemon has left, Lady Mysaria. For Harrenhal, we presume, and we cannot say when he will be back." (Y/N) piped up, watching her face fall for the briefest of moments before she mustered a blank face, her jaw clenching. Rhaenyra stopped at her side and stared at her, eyes soaking up her features and brows slightly raising.

"You remember me now," Mysaria mused with a hint of amusement, subtle enough to almost dismiss as nothing. Her head tilted toward the silver-haired queen, shoulders sagging slightly in some relief.

"He said he would marry you," Rhaenyra recalled with semi-widened eyes. "He said you carried his child-"

"Not everyone found the jest funny." Mysaria looked away with a scoff, her eyes rolling at the mention of Daemon's past doings. Ah, (Y/N) remembered then, the old memory of Rhaenyra having to fly out to fetch the egg Daemon had taken that'd once belonged to little Baelon. There'd been mentions of a woman but he hadn't been all too interested in the details. "And now it seems he's done it again, made a promise and then slipped away."

"Is that why you desired to speak to me when you were found hidden within one of the ships?" (Y/N) piped up with a question, his eyes following Rhaenyra as she returned to his side and leaned against him.

Mysaria nodded. "I heard of how the King Consort was... kinder than his kin. I had hoped you would listen to my pleas for freedom, my desire to escape from Flea Bottom and any chains Daemon Targaryen could wrap around me. Perhaps I should have refused him, lied, and pretended to know little, but you know how he can be. I can do nothing now to reverse what he has done... I can only ask you to honor his promise in his absence." Mysaria pleaded softly, her voice soaked in genuine exhaustion.

"You trade in the secrets of the Red Keep. Your web runs unseen through King's Landing." Rhaenyra frowned. "It would not serve me to set you free. At best, I lose an asset to my cause. At worse, you betray me in some foul way."

"I have no interest in betraying you, Your Grace. I was brought to Westeros with nothing. I toiled in service, I stole. I sold my own body for coin or bread. And I listened. I collected confidences. I made myself valuable to powerful men. Bit by bit, I made my living. A house, a household, a home... then, they set it all aflame."

"Who did?"

Her eyes flickered toward (Y/N). "The Hightowers, I assume. The Hand.. did not like it when I showed my teeth. But I thank him for it. For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. Daemon.. Otto Hightower. Makes no difference. They will never accept me." She gave a dry chuckle. "I may as well have remained a whore."

The Hightowers had always been a noble family, but all noble families kept their statuses through secrets and skeletons hidden within the foundations of their homes. Quiet orders, spies, assassins, betrayals, bloodshed. He knew well the capabilities of nobles; he'd grown up listening to the drunken tales shared with laughter and smirks that most would consider to be horrid. His father ordering a flame be put out for threatening to grow brighter than him? He believed it, wholeheartedly.

"You've given us much to think about, Lady Mysaria." (Y/N) told her. "You will hear of our decision soon."

199 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 4 months ago

Text

when it sinks in (m) | ksj

Life as a mermaid is wonderful, especially when your merman boyfriend, Seokjin, treats you just right. But you’re beginning to recall memories that you don’t think are yours from life on land— from a past life maybe? When you do realize that the memories are in fact your own, the world comes tumbling down around you, questioning your very existence. Are you even a real mermaid?

→ Pairing: seokjin x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: established relationship → Genres: amnesia romance / fluff / smut / angst / drama / light yandere → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 13.1k → Warnings + triggers: amnesia, memories/visions, betrayal/lying, yandere behavior, controlling, identity crisis, struggling with the concept of ‘home’, drowning, merfolk mating (sex), unprotected sex; breast play, a lot of kissing, oral (male and female), sweet and tender love making, hair pulling, spitting, scratching with nails, gentle aftercare. → Author’s note(1): I finally finished another mermaid story! Only five more to go!!! I really love this universe I’ve created and I can’t wait to explore more for the other members! 💜 → Read on AO3? [link]

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The cool, wet embrace of the sea wraps around your skin like a silken veil, the deep, dark waters beckoning you into their mysterious depths. Your deep purple, scaly tail shimmers with an ethereal glow, catching the faintest glimmers of sunlight that dance like fleeting whispers on the ocean floor. You revel in the boundless freedom of the sea, gliding effortlessly through the currents, your spirit entwined with the rhythm of the waves. The myriad fish that weave around you are your companions, your fellow wanderers in this underwater realm that pulses with life, a world you have called home for as long as you can remember.

You have never set foot on land; the thought is as foreign as the idea of flight to a stone. Up there, beyond the shimmering surface, lies an unknown, a distant world that holds no allure for you. Down here, in the tranquil depths of the sea, you have found your sanctuary, your eternal haven, a place where time itself seems to pause and stretch into infinity.

A flash of shimmery pink darts past your vision, breaking your thoughts with a burst of playful energy. You can’t help but giggle as Seokjin, with his warm chestnut hair, shimmies away, his laughter bubbling up like pearls from the ocean floor. His presence is a light in the dark, a warm current in the cool embrace of the deep. He’s always been like that—playful, teasing, yet so undeniably yours. You catch sight of him as he attempts to find a new hiding spot, but his broad shoulders and mischievous grin give him away, and the chase is on.

Your tail flips furiously, propelling you through the water with the grace of a dancer. Fish scatter in your wake, startled by your swift movements as you close the distance between you and Seokjin. You’re playing hide and seek—believe it or not, two adult merfolk, lost in the joy of the game, the rest of the world fading into the background.

Before Seokjin reaches the cliffside, he turns to face you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He sticks his tongue out playfully, disappearing behind the rocky surface, but when you round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found. Confusion lingers for just a moment until strong hands wrap around your torso, just below your purple seashell bra, and you’re caught in his embrace. Laughter spills from your lips as he tickles your waist, his head nestled in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“I got you now, huh?” he whispers, his voice a low murmur that sends shivers down your spine.

His face nuzzles into the curve of your neck, and the warmth of his breath caresses your skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your entire being. Goosebumps rise in a wave, your body responding to his touch with a sigh of contentment. His plush lips graze your neck, planting soft kisses that trail upward until they find your mouth. His kiss is a tantalizing dance, a slow, deliberate exploration that leaves you yearning for more.

Your eyes close as your hands intertwine, your tails curling around each other in an intimate embrace. You pull him closer, your desire for him an insatiable hunger that swells with every beat of your heart. Time seems to dissolve, the world around you blurring into a sea of blue as you lose yourself in the sensation of his kiss, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours.

When you finally part, your eyes meet, both of you breathless, pupils wide and dark with longing. Your fingers remain laced together, your hearts beating in perfect harmony, a shared rhythm that speaks of a love as deep as the ocean itself. The dance continues, your bodies swaying in the current, moving as one, the world around you forgotten, reduced to the simple, undeniable truth of your bond.

And as you kiss him again, deeper this time, your tongue exploring his, you feel yourself slipping further into the depths of his love, where you could easily lose yourself forever and be content, knowing that in this moment, in this embrace, you have found your home.

When you part once more, his smile, that worldwide handsome smile, beams like the first rays of dawn, and you feel your heart melt in response. He gently takes your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin before bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?” he whispers, his voice a soft caress that lingers in the water around you.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, the sound light as the bubbles rising to the surface, as his kiss sends a shiver of warmth through you. Your hand sparkles with the ring he gave you—a creamy, lustrous pearl that glows with the promise he made, a symbol of forever. The memory of that moment when he asked you to be his, when you said yes with every fiber of your being, floods your mind, filling you with a love that feels as deep and endless as the ocean itself.

“Hmm,” you hum, your eyes reflecting the love that fills your heart, “I love you too.”

You smile, letting the moment wrap around you like a comforting current, and the once-blurred surroundings now sharpen into focus. Tiny yellow fish dart around with playful energy, their tails wiggling like ribbons in a breeze, while obsidian ones lurk in the wet sand below, their movements slow and deliberate. Schools of silver fish glide by in perfect synchrony, their scales catching the light in a shimmering dance that weaves through the water like a living tapestry. The underwater world around you is a lush, vibrant realm of greens and blues—kelp sways gracefully in the gentle currents, tangles of sea plants flourish with life, some adorned with delicate flower buds that bloom like jewels in the ocean’s embrace. The water, dark but crystal clear, reveals hidden caves and rocky outcroppings, perfect for hide-and-seek adventures, waiting to be explored.

A sudden, gentle touch against your tail startles you, and you turn to see Jungkook behind you, his expression one of playful exasperation. “Hyung! Jimin’s missing again,” he groans, his voice carrying a note of frustration. “Sorry, ___, I didn’t mean to swim into you.” He flashes you a sheepish grin before turning his attention back to Seokjin, not batting an eye at the fact that he interrupted your mating ritual.

Seokjin rolls his eyes, a sigh escaping him like the whisper of a tide. “Last time I saw Jimin, he said he got caught in a net on a boat but managed to escape. Maybe he got caught again?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen in horror, his imagination running wild. “Shouldn’t we help him then?”

Seokjin dismisses the concern with a casual wave of his hand, his confidence unwavering. “Nah, he’s perfectly fine on his own. He’s a grown merman." He reaches for your hand once more, pulling you close, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment.

“If he’s gone for longer than a week, maybe we can look for him,” he adds with a playful tug, drawing you gently away from the conversation. You hear Jungkook muttering something about Jimin’s unfamiliarity with humans and the risk of being discovered, but Seokjin’s calm, easy going demeanor remains unshaken, a quiet reassurance that everything will be alright.

As you swim away together, you take in the vibrant world around you, feeling a profound sense of peace and belonging in the depths of the sea. The worries of the surface world seem distant and insignificant here, where every moment is filled with wonder and the comforting embrace of the ocean.

You glide alongside Seokjin back to your cove, a sprawling underwater city that rises like a dream from the ocean floor. Tall, castle-like buildings with turrets and spires reach toward the surface, their walls adorned with coral and sea glass, reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of colors. It’s a place out of a fairytale, a sanctuary where you feel truly at home. You smile and wave to your mermaid friends as they swim by, their envious glances not lost on you. Many merfolk admire your relationship with Seokjin, a merman whose heart is as kind as his looks are striking, and their gazes only bolster your confidence.

As you weave through the swaying kelp towards the cave you call home, red crabs scuttle along the sandy bottom, and the ocean hums with life all around you. Here, in this enchanted realm beneath the waves, you find your true north, your place of peace, and your heart’s deepest joy.

Suddenly, your vision fades to black, and a cascade of unfamiliar images flashes before your eyes, like a distant memory surfacing from the depths of your mind.

You feel the grainy texture of sand between your toes—a sensation both alien and intimate. Toes, an unfamiliar part of you, sink into the soft, white sand as you sit, letting it slip through your fingers like a whisper of time. The sea’s foam caresses your feet, a delicate tickle that brings a smile to your lips as you gaze out at the endless expanse of water. It’s always been beautiful, this vast ocean, a constant in your life, and it always will be. You look back at the shore, where your friends wave and smile, their faces warm and inviting, yet somehow distant.

Then, just as suddenly, the vision dissipates, and the familiar contours of your shared cave snap back into focus. Seokjin’s worried gaze meets yours, his eyes searching your face for answers.

“Are you okay, babe?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You blink, disoriented, as if waking from a dream that clings to the edges of your consciousness. “Huh?” you murmur, glancing around the cave, feeling a strange, unsettling disquiet. What had you been seeing just moments before?

“Your gaze felt so empty, like your thoughts were far away,” he explains, his brow furrowing with worry. You shake your head, the images slipping from your grasp like water through your fingers, leaving only confusion in their wake.

“I don’t know what happened, but let’s just head home,” you say, squeezing his hand, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth of his touch. You lead him into the cave, the soothing embrace of your shared space grounding you as you try to shake off the lingering disorientation.

That night, cradled in his arms, you toss and turn, haunted by those enigmatic visions. Your mind conjures images that feel like echoes from another life, flickering in and out of focus like a distant star. In your dream...

You walk along a shoreline, the waves gently lapping at your bare feet, each step a curious mix of exhilaration and strangeness. The sensation of solid earth beneath you is foreign, yet thrilling, akin to the freedom of soaring through water as your feet carry you across the warm sand. The scene shifts abruptly, and you find yourself in a bustling café, the sounds around you muffled as if you were underwater, though you clearly aren’t. You sit at a table with women whose faces are familiar, echoing the earlier vision of the beach. They giggle and smile, their words a blur, and you nod along, smiling in return. Your hand curls around a glass of light brown liquid, the ice clinking softly—a scene both alien and intimately familiar.

You wake with a start, your heart pounding, the remnants of the dream still clinging to you like mist.

Where are you? What was that dream?

You remember the sensation of having feet—of walking, of being human.

“Honey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Seokjin’s voice is soft with concern, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a frown that tugs at your heart. You force a smile to dispel his worry. “I just had a weird dream, that’s all.”

Because that’s all it was, right? Just a strange dream.

Determined to shake off the unsettling images, you begin your day with a light breakfast, trying to push the dream from your mind. Soon after, you swim out to meet Namjoon, who has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. You had promised to join him on his latest treasure hunt, a quest for crystals, gems, or forgotten relics from the world above. He’s spoken about this adventure countless times, his excitement infectious, and you finally relented, agreeing to accompany him on one of his explorations. As you swim toward him, Namjoon greets you with a soft smile, the anticipation of the day’s quest lighting up his eyes.

“Hi, ___! Ready for our adventure?” Namjoon’s voice bursts with excitement, his smile as radiant as a child’s on Christmas morning. His baby blue tail flicks with uncontainable energy, the scales catching the light in a playful shimmer.

“Yeah!” you exclaim, matching his enthusiasm as you adjust the crossbody bag slung over your shoulder, prepared to gather whatever treasures the ocean offers.

“Cool, let’s swim,” he says, his voice bubbling with eagerness as he takes the lead, propelling himself forward with powerful strokes. The ocean around you is calm, the water clear and inviting, and as you set off together, you can almost convince yourself that the dream was nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

You swim for what feels like ages, the cool water rushing past you, each movement a blend of grace and strength. As fatigue begins to tug at your muscles, a glimmer of blue catches your eye in the distance. Your heart leaps, anticipation coursing through your veins—finally, you’ve reached your destination. Namjoon’s excitement is almost tangible as he urges you forward, his energy sparking through the water like an electric current.

The sand beneath you is a pale beige, contrasting sharply with the vibrant blue crystals embedded in the rocky surface ahead. It’s breathtaking, a hidden gem in the vast underwater world that you call home. A few curious fish dart by, their scales catching the light as they weave through the water, but otherwise, a profound silence envelops the scene, amplifying its beauty.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper as you take in the mesmerizing sight. You’ve never seen anything like it before, and the wonder of it leaves you momentarily speechless.

“It’s aquamarine,” Namjoon says, his voice filled with awe as he swims closer to the crystals, inspecting them with a reverence reserved for only the most precious discoveries.

You nod, transfixed by the shimmering blue gems. Who would have guessed that your home held such secret wonders, hidden in the depths of the ocean, waiting to be found?

“I want to collect one, just give me a moment,” Namjoon says, his tone both excited and focused as he drops his bag of tools onto the ocean floor, sending up a small cloud of sand. The bag, a cherished relic from one of his many adventures, is always with him. He carefully extracts a few tools, his movements precise and deliberate, as he begins to carve out a chunk of crystal. You watch him work, captivated by the skill and care with which he handles the gem. Once he’s collected a piece for himself, he turns to you, his expression softening as he offers you a small piece of aquamarine.

You accept the crystal, turning it over in your hand. The gem catches the light, reflecting the deep, mysterious blues of the sea. In that moment, it feels like you’re holding a piece of your world’s essence, a tangible reminder of home.

But then, as if pulled by an unseen force, your reality shifts.

A sudden rumble of thunder jolts you, and the serene underwater scene dissolves around you. Everything sways, and you find yourself on a boat—or perhaps a yacht—gripping the railing with one hand, a glass of crimson liquid in the other. The sky above is dark and foreboding, thick clouds churning with the promise of a storm. Laughter, eerie and out of place, mingles with the sound of thunder, creating a haunting symphony that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Earth to ___!” Namjoon’s voice breaks through the vision, snapping you back to the present. He waves his hands in front of your face, concern etched across his features. Panic surges through you—these aren’t just dreams. They feel tangible, like fragments of another life bleeding into your own. A life that isn’t yours, yet feels disturbingly familiar. You’re a mermaid, never human—or at least, that’s what you’ve always believed. It’s said that mermaids can transform, but you’ve never set foot on land. These visions, these memories, feel foreign, like echoes from another existence intruding on your mind.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I don’t know what happened,” you stammer, your voice shaky as you try to push away the unsettling experience. He gives you a thoughtful, worried look, his brow furrowed in concern, but then he smiles gently, his fingers curling around yours as he leads you away, guiding you back towards the comfort and familiarity of home.

As you glide through the water, the aquamarine crystal clasped tightly in your hand, the mysteries of your visions swirl in your thoughts like the endless, spiraling currents of the sea. The deep blue around you pulses with a rhythm all its own, yet your mind is elsewhere, drifting through the shadows of these strange, inexplicable memories that seem to tug at the edges of your consciousness.

Back home, you find Seokjin engrossed in his work, as usual, his focus intense as he prepares materials for his students. He’s a revered teacher, imparting the ancient history of your underwater world to the young merfolk with a passion that’s impossible to ignore. You watch him with quiet admiration, knowing how much he loves sharing tales of the past—stories of how Hoseok’s ancestors founded your vast cove, battling fearsome sea creatures to carve out this sanctuary beneath the waves. Hoseok’s lineage runs deep, their legacy woven into the very fabric of your community, making him something akin to royalty in these waters. Seokjin often speaks of how your city has remained hidden from human eyes for centuries, a secret world cloaked in the ocean’s depths. Yet, in recent times, curiosity about the surface has begun to stir among the younger merfolk, despite the elders’ stern warnings about the dangers of being discovered by humans. Though Seokjin shares these stories with a sense of wonder, you’ve never felt the urge to experience life on land yourself. The sea is your home, your heart tethered to its depths.

“Did you have a good trip with Namjoon?” Seokjin asks, glancing up from the worn pages of a book adorned with ancient symbols. His smile is warm, his presence a steady anchor in the shifting tides of your thoughts.

“Yeah, he gave me a piece of aquamarine. Wanna see?” you reply, pulling the small, shimmering crystal from your bag when he nods. He takes it from you, his eyes reflecting the gemstone’s beauty as he admires it.

“It’s as beautiful as you,” he murmurs, handing it back to you with a gentle smile. You place it beside your nest on the rocky nightstand, the crystal catching the light in a way that reminds you of the first moment you saw it.

The days that follow are peaceful, your visions leaving you in a rare state of calm. You fill your time with friends, letting the little mermaids braid your hair as you embark on new adventures. One day, you swim alongside Taehyung, his curiosity and eccentricity leading you to explore the ocean’s forgotten treasures—remnants of the world above that have found their way to the seabed. The sand is littered with seashells, gold coins, tarnished utensils, waterlogged books, and ancient jewelry. Taehyung, much like Namjoon with his stones—sorry, crystals—collects these artifacts with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a child, his love for these lost relics bringing a smile to your face as you join him in his explorations.

“Look! There’s a glass over here,” Taehyung calls out, his voice filled with the thrill of discovery. You swim over to him, your curiosity piqued, and inspect the object he holds in his hands. It’s a strange trinket, unlike anything you’ve seen before.

“Glass?” you murmur, the word feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue, as if it doesn’t quite belong in your world.

Taehyung shows you the glass—a large, round vessel with a slender stem that widens into a foot. It resembles a wine glass, and as you gaze at it, a wave of dizziness washes over you. Your vision fades to black.

When it returns, the sound of thunder fills your ears, loud and ominous. You’re no longer underwater but standing on the deck of a yacht, gripping the railing with one hand, the other clutching an almost empty wine glass. The crimson liquid sloshes with the rocking of the boat, staining the pristine glass with its rich hue. The sky above is a stormy canvas, dark and swirling, illuminated only by flashes of lightning that slice through the darkness. A blanket of rain soaks you to the bone, cold and relentless, while eerie laughter mingles with the crack of thunder, creating a symphony that sends chills down your spine.

Suddenly, a massive wave crashes against the yacht, and you lose your grip on the wine glass. It shatters on the deck, the pieces scattering like shards of a broken memory. Another wave strikes, and you’re thrown off balance. You tumble over the side of the yacht, plunging into the churning sea. The waves are merciless, slamming you against the hull, and your head collides with a sickening thud. Your body goes limp, and you begin to sink into the depths, the water filling your lungs as you struggle to breathe. Everything goes dark, the weight of the ocean pressing down on you, dragging you deeper, deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Your eyes snap open, your body trembling, cold sweat slicking your skin. Taehyung stares at you, his expression puzzled and concerned. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tentative, as if afraid to break the fragile silence that hangs between you.

You nod, biting your lip, though deep down, you know you’re far from okay. What you saw felt so vividly real—falling into the ocean, legs thrashing as a human. These visions must be memories, but memories of what time, what life?

As you reflect, a disturbing realization grips you: you don’t remember anything from before meeting Seokjin. There’s nothing—just a blank void where your past should be. Could these really be your memories? From a life before... before Seokjin?

A shiver runs through you, the chill of dread seeping into your bones. It doesn’t make sense, this absence of a past. Where were you born? Is ___ even your true name? Who are you, really?

These questions swirl in your mind like a storm, dark and turbulent, as unsettling as the depths you plunged into in your vision. You can feel your thoughts unraveling, each thread pulling at the fabric of your reality. Yet, Taehyung, oblivious to your inner turmoil, continues his treasure hunt with the same innocent enthusiasm. You try to hide your growing fear, but your body betrays you with tremors. Perhaps you should confide in Seokjin about these dreams—no, these memories. He’s so knowledgeable about history, about magic; maybe there’s something he can do. The thought of sharing your burden with him is both comforting and terrifying. You feel fragile, like a piece of glass teetering on the edge, a single crack away from shattering into countless, irreparable fragments.

Despite the weight pressing down on you, you help Taehyung search for more treasures, turning over every leaf of kelp, every rocky surface. He fills his bag to the brim with relics from the world above, while you swim beside him, a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. The strange feeling lingers as you reach home, and Seokjin’s eyes find yours, instantly recognizing that something is wrong.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks, his grip on your arms firm, his gaze searching yours, desperate for an answer to the sadness clouding your features.

You let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, unable to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t you have a good time with Taehyung on your treasure hunt?” he inquires, his concern deepening when you shake your head.

“No, the treasure hunt was fine. It’s…” you begin, fumbling with the words, struggling to find a way to explain the unexplainable. But you have to try—maybe he can help. “I’ve been having these weird visions,” you pause, your voice trembling as you swim nervously from side to side, “or memories, I think.”

His expression shifts from curiosity to worry, his handsome face now eerily blank as he listens.

“What kind of memories?” he asks, his voice cautious, as if afraid of what you might say.

“Of me. As a human. With legs. Living on land,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, hoping against hope that he might understand, that he might have some insight into why you’re experiencing these memories—how to make them go away before they consume you entirely.

He says nothing, his silence a heavy weight between you, and his frown deepens, a storm gathering in his eyes. Your heart sinks, dragging your hope down with it.

“Are these my memories?” you ask, your voice small, trembling as you finally give voice to the fear that has haunted you for days. You hold your breath, waiting for his response, dreading the answer.

But he avoids your gaze, his silence more damning than any words could be. Your heart plummets, sinking into the depths of despair. Does he have something to do with this? What is he hiding from you? What truth is he keeping locked away, and why does it feel like your world is about to unravel completely?

Seokjin descends into the deep, where the ocean’s embrace is tight and unyielding, and where the light above is little more than a distant memory. He loves it here, in the silent, shadowy depths where the world feels vast and endless, yet intimately close. Today, however, his journey is not for himself. Taehyung, bedridden with the flu, has entrusted him with a mission—to find treasures, the peculiar remnants of human life that have sunken to the ocean’s floor. Usually, Taehyung would be at his side, his eyes alight with curiosity, but today, Seokjin searches alone, determined to bring back something special for his friend.

The sandy bottom stretches out beneath him, vast and barren, as he scours it for any sign of something unusual. His hands sift through the grains, but he finds nothing of interest, just the familiar whisper of the ocean around him. Then, a muffled ripple from above disrupts the stillness, and he pauses, his attention caught. He glances upward, but the water is thick, his depth too great to see the sun or the sky. The darkness is all-consuming, but there’s a strange energy in the water—a tremor, a subtle shift.

He feels it before he sees it, the electric charge pulsing through the sea as the surface above transforms into a chaotic dance of white and yellow. Lightning forks across the sky, and thunder reverberates through the waves, a distant echo that reaches even these shadowy depths. His heart quickens as he senses a looming presence overhead—a large boat, struggling against the storm’s fury. Curiosity tugs at him, urging him closer to the surface, to that fragile boundary between his world and the one above.

But then, a sudden splash shatters the rhythm of the waves, drawing his gaze. Seokjin doesn’t need to see to know something is wrong—he feels it, deep in his core. He propels himself upward, slicing through the water with powerful strokes, and as he nears the surface, the scene unfolds before him.

There you are—a human—falling helplessly into the ocean, bubbles streaming from your lips as you instinctively gasp for air, only to inhale the saltwater instead. Your eyes flutter shut as your head collides with the boat’s hull, and then your body begins its slow descent into the abyss, like a fragile leaf caught in the current.

For a heartbeat, Seokjin is frozen, torn between the instinct to remain hidden and the overwhelming urge to save you. But he knows he cannot let a life slip away, human or not. With a surge of determination, he rockets toward you, his tail propelling him with swift, graceful power. You’re sinking fast, but he reaches you just in time, wrapping his arms around your limp form. His heart pounds with the hope that you’re merely unconscious, that life still flickers within you.

Panic flares as he realizes the enormity of the task ahead—he’s too far from shore to bring you to safety, and the thought of being discovered by the humans above sends a chill through him. The ocean, with its relentless pull, drags you both deeper with each passing second. He knows he must act, and quickly. There’s no time to waste. Every moment is a battle against the depths that threaten to claim you.

Without hesitation, Seokjin makes his decision. He turns and swims with all his might, his powerful tail driving him forward through the dark waters. His destination is clear—the Sea Witch, the only one who might possess the power to save you. His heart races as he speeds through the ocean, praying that you can hold on just a little longer.

The dark enclave comes into view, a place shrouded in mystery and foreboding. He enters the cave, the water around him thick with an eerie glow cast by bioluminescent algae that clings to the walls. Shadows dance in the dim light, flickering like spirits, and the silence is heavy, almost oppressive. Fish dart away at his approach, sensing the urgency in his movements.

There, in the heart of the cave, surrounded by shelves brimming with arcane artifacts and ancient relics, he finds her—the Sea Witch. Her long black curls float around her like a halo, moving with a life of their own. Her eyes, dark and unreadable, lock onto him as he approaches. Though she appears youthful, Seokjin knows that her ageless beauty is a mask, a testament to the powerful magic that courses through her veins.

“What brings you here, Seokjin?” she asks, her voice smooth and laced with knowing, as if she’s already aware of the answer. He realizes, with a start, that he’s never known her true name. But it doesn’t matter now.

Seokjin’s grip tightens around your lifeless form, and with desperation in his eyes, he speaks.

“I need your help,” he gasps, dragging your lifeless form before her. “I found this woman sinking into the sea. I can’t get her to shore in time... Can you save her? Turn her into a mermaid and give her life?” His voice trembles with a mix of urgency and fear, a tremor that reveals the depth of his desperation. Though he doesn’t know you, the thought of your life slipping away fills him with an unnameable dread.

The Sea Witch’s eyes flicker with interest, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Such a request comes with a price,” she murmurs, her voice as soft and dark as the water that surrounds them. Her fingers move to tame her wild hair, but it’s a futile gesture amidst the swirling chaos of her lair, where shadows and light dance in an eerie ballet.

“Anything,” he pleads, his desperation mounting as he feels the fragile thread of your life fraying in his arms. “Just save her.”

The Sea Witch’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “You won’t be able to turn into a human except under the full moon,” she intones, her words echoing through the cavern like an ancient incantation. She waits, her eyes boring into him, before beginning the spell.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he nods and gently pushes you toward her, his hands trembling as he releases you. “It’s fine. Just help her, please.” The price she asks seems insignificant—he rarely ventures onto land, and what are legs compared to a life? Your life, he believes, is worth far more than the ability to walk on two feet.

The Sea Witch begins her incantation, her voice weaving through the water like a thread of silk. As the ancient words spill from her lips, your body begins to glow, the dull pallor of death replaced by a shimmer that pulses with life. Shimmers and sparkles envelop you, swirling like stars caught in a tide, as your legs begin to meld together, forming a sleek, purple tail. The transformation is breathtaking—the skin of your legs morphs into iridescent scales, each one catching the faint light and reflecting it in a myriad of colors. Your clothing shifts, dissolving into the water and reappearing as a seashell bra that perfectly matches the hue of your new tail. Suspended in the water, you look ethereal, like a creature born from the ocean’s deepest dreams.

Then, with a sudden jolt, your eyes flutter open, wide and filled with fear. Panic seizes you, and you curl into yourself, your new tail thrashing in the water as you try to make sense of the world around you.

“Where am I?” you ask, your voice trembling, the sound echoing softly through the cavern. Your eyes dart around, wide with terror and confusion.

Seokjin moves closer, his heart aching at the sight of your distress. He takes your hand in his, the touch meant to ground you, to offer some semblance of comfort in the midst of your fear. “It’s okay, ___,” he soothes, his voice gentle, his expression warm and reassuring. He doesn’t know your real name, but he calls you by the first name that springs to mind, one that seems to fit the beauty and fragility he sees before him. “You’re safe.”

He offers you a smile, a gesture meant to calm the storm raging inside you, and begins to weave a story—a tale of separation during a treasure hunt, a simple explanation that he hopes will ease your fear. Though your eyes remain clouded with uncertainty, you slowly nod, clinging to his words as though they are a lifeline.

But as you accept his story, a pang of guilt lodges itself deep within Seokjin’s heart. He knows the truth—knows that he’s withheld it from you. Yet, seeing the terror in your eyes, he cannot bring himself to reveal everything, not now, not when you’re so fragile. Perhaps, he tells himself, you will never need to know what really happened. Perhaps, in time, this story will become your truth. And for now, all that matters is that you are alive and safe, held gently in the arms of the ocean, where your new life has just begun.

Listening to Seokjin’s tale of your transformation, how you were once human and are now a mermaid, feels like the world is crumbling beneath you. Doubt and mistrust swirl in your mind like a gathering storm, obscuring everything you thought you knew. What is real anymore? Who are you? Despite the shimmering purple tail that now defines your existence, a gnawing certainty lingers—you once walked on land, breathed the air of the earth, and had friends who must surely be missing you. But why haven’t they searched for you? How long have you been living underwater, unaware of the life you lost? The questions twist within you, each one more agonizing than the last, yet you dare not ask Seokjin, for the trust you once had in him lies shattered at your feet.

Seokjin’s expression is a canvas of regret, yet he remains silent, offering no apology, no explanation. Anger and sorrow churn within you, a tumultuous sea that threatens to drown you. He deceived you, and the visions that have haunted you are not mere dreams but fragments of your stolen past. A wave of nausea rises within you as the weight of this realization crashes down, leaving you feeling displaced, as if you don’t belong in the ocean’s depths. This isn’t your home. You are human, and your heart aches for the life that was unjustly taken from you.

You don’t want to look at him—yet you do, because it suddenly hits you that this might be the last time you ever see him. You take in every detail, committing his features to memory: the sharp angle of his jaw, the curve of his nose—slightly upturned, the beautiful hazel eyes that shimmer with a mix of love and regret. Sadness tugs at your heartstrings, but the thought of his lies and the human life he stole from you reignites your anger. Your gaze traces the sharp line of his eyebrows, the tousled chestnut hair, down to the broad shoulders that taper into a strong chest and a narrow waist, where the scales of his tail begin. The tail shimmers in shades of pink, adorned with light fins at the back, and across his torso, the waist necklace of seashells and pearls—your gift, collected during treasure hunts with your friends—now seems like a mockery. Anger and love coil within you, a tangled mess of emotions, until you can no longer bear to look at him. You simply can’t.

Determined, you grit your teeth, tension rippling through your entire being. Seokjin reaches out, but you back away, your voice sharp and broken as you command, “Don’t follow me!” With that, you turn and swim away, heart pounding, the weight of his betrayal pressing heavily on your chest.

Desperate for answers, you head toward the Sea Witch—the one who played a role in your transformation. Her cave looms ahead, dark and foreboding, the water turning icy as you approach. She lounges on a rocky surface draped with plush kelp, her eyes cold and knowing as they settle on you.

“How can I help you, darling?” she asks, her voice smooth, her gaze piercing through your resolve.

“I want to turn back into my human form,” you declare, your voice steady, though your heart quivers. The Sea Witch nods, no questions asked, as she begins muttering an incantation. Her words wrap around you like a spellbinding current. She tells you that once you reach the shore, you will revert to your human self, but warns that contact with seawater will not return you to a mermaid, as you were not born of the sea. You accept this truth, ready to leave behind the deception that has kept you bound to the ocean.

With a newfound resolve, you swim toward the shore, the water parting before you as if understanding your need to escape. The ocean, once a place of wonder and discovery, now feels like a prison of lies. You are determined to find the truth, to reclaim the life you were meant to live, to breathe the air of the world you were born into. As the sunlight pierces the water’s surface, you push forward, breaking free from the ocean’s hold, ready to embrace your humanity once more.

With a splash, you break through the surface of the water, swimming toward the shore that shimmers on the horizon like a distant dream. You hope no one sees you, a fleeting shadow in the moonlit waves. The beach lies silent, empty, and welcoming as you drag yourself onto the sand, away from the saltwater’s embrace. A few heartbeats later, your scaly tail vanishes, replaced by human legs. You look down in wonder, wiggling your toes, the sensation oddly strange and yet familiar, as though awakening from a long-forgotten dream. A smile spreads across your face as the moon casts its silver light upon the water, a witness to your transformation.

Suddenly, the reality of your nudity dawns on you, and you glance around for something to cover yourself. Fortune favors you as your eyes catch sight of an abandoned towel, half-buried in the sand, which you quickly wrap around your body like a cloak of newfound modesty.

The grains of sand beneath your toes feel comforting, grounding you in a world that once seemed so far away. You take a few tentative steps, the motion awkward at first but gradually becoming more fluid, as though your muscles remember what your mind had forgotten. As you gaze over the shore, memories flood back in a rush: the thrill of sailing with friends under perfect skies, the sudden fury of a storm, the terror of falling into the sea. Faces of loved ones flash before you—your friends, the loss of your parents when you were still so young, the aching loneliness of being an only child. Your heart sinks under the weight of these memories, leaving you hollow, a stranger in a world you once called home. Do your friends even remember you? How much time has slipped away in your absence?

Your feet, as if guided by some hidden instinct, carry you along what you assume is a familiar path to one of your friends’ places. The city at night envelops you in its quiet hum, and though you’re wrapped only in a towel, you push on, ignoring the leering glances of drunk passersby who whistle as you hurry past. Your heart pounds in your chest, a drumbeat of nerves and determination, until at last, you find yourself standing before a tall apartment building that tugs at the strings of your memory. You walk inside, the glass doors parting like a portal to your past, and head straight to the elevator. For a moment, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the buttons as doubt creeps in. But then, almost of its own accord, your hand presses the number seven. The doors close, sealing you in, and the elevator ascends, carrying you toward the unknown.

When the doors open, you step into the dimly lit hall, each step echoing in the stillness as you approach a door that feels like the right one. You raise your hand to knock, aware that it’s the middle of the night and you might be waking someone who believes you are long gone.

A few soft knocks, and the door creaks open to reveal a tired, sleepy face, one that instantly brings a rush of warmth to your heart—it’s Soohee, your brain whispers.

“___?” she breathes, disbelief thick in her voice.

Your name— you remember it now, and it strikes you as a beautiful twist of fate that Seokjin, without knowing, bestowed upon you your true human name.

“What are you doing here? How are you alive?” she asks, her eyes wide with shock as the door remains slightly ajar, her mind struggling to reconcile your presence with the reality she knows. You just smile, the kind of smile that holds the weight of untold stories, and nod.

“You’ve been gone for two years,” she continues, her voice breaking as she reaches for you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “This is unbelievable. I thought you were dead. I missed you so much.”

You cling to her, the warmth of her arms anchoring you to this world, to the life you were meant to live. The ocean’s secrets may linger, but here, in this moment, you are home.

You let her envelop you in a hug, her familiar scent triggering a flood of memories that rush back with bittersweet clarity. “Come in,” she whispers, her voice tinged with relief, as she gently guides you inside and closes the door behind you, sealing the outside world away. Without a word about your strange attire, she hands you some of her clothes, the softness of the fabric a small comfort, and gently nudges you toward the bathroom to change. Emerging in a baggy shirt and pajama pants that hang loosely on your frame, you find the couch already made up for you, the blankets tucked in as if to cradle your weary body. Sleep should come easily, but it evades you, slipping through your grasp as your mind races, caught between the tangled threads of your human past and mermaid present. Memories of Seokjin and your life beneath the waves tug at your heart, while the bitter aftertaste of his deception lingers like a shadow. Rest remains an elusive dream.

Morning arrives with the pale light of dawn, revealing the dark circles beneath your eyes, evidence of the sleepless night you’ve endured. Soohee hands you a cup of coffee, her concern evident in the way her eyes search yours for answers you’re not yet ready to give. You sit together in the quiet morning, the warmth of the cup a small solace in your hands, as she begins to recount that fateful night. She explains how they didn’t notice you fall over the railing, their laughter and drunken fun drowning out any sound of your descent. Her hands fidget with the hem of her shirt as she speaks, her voice heavy with regret. They searched for you the next day, she says, but the sea offered no clues, and they eventually assumed you had drowned.

Her words fall like stones into the pit of your stomach, offering no comfort, only deepening the ache that has settled there. The knowledge that your friends didn’t do more, that they gave up so easily, weighs heavily on you, pulling you further into the depths of despair. The fragility of your friendship, how quickly they assumed the worst and moved on, leaves you feeling more isolated than ever, a stranger in the life you once knew.

You don’t tell Soohee the full story, offering only that you remember little and somehow washed up on shore. The truth of your mermaid life feels like a fragile thread, too delicate to share, a secret woven into the very fabric of your being that isn’t yours alone to unravel.

An invisible wall stands between you, a tension that hums in the air, hard to define but impossible to ignore. Despite the discomfort, you follow Soohee to a café to meet the rest of your friends. Everything feels slightly off, as if you’re playing a part in a play whose lines you’ve forgotten. There’s an emptiness that lingers in every smile, a sense of unfulfillment that shadows every conversation.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself making a temporary home in Soohee’s apartment. Most days, you’re left alone with your thoughts while she’s at work, the silence pressing in on you, heavy and suffocating. Memories of life beneath the ocean rise unbidden, surprising you with their vividness and intensity. You find yourself longing for the rhythm of the sea, the simplicity of underwater existence. And most of all, you miss Seokjin.

You wonder if he misses you too. If he had apologized, would you have fled so quickly? Maybe. The betrayal had felt like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable. But now, in the calm that follows the storm, those feelings have receded, leaving behind a deep, persistent sadness. You realize, with a pang, that you might have overreacted. Seokjin had saved your life, after all. In your anger, you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge that fact.

A sigh escapes your lips as you sit alone in the stillness of the apartment, the quiet wrapping around you like a heavy cloak. Your thoughts are a whirlpool, pulling you deeper into longing and regret. If only you could see him again, to tell him you’re sorry, to let him know how grateful you are. He saved you, pulled you from the brink of death, and in your anger, you hadn’t allowed him to explain, hadn’t given him the chance to speak.

You miss the comfort of his presence, the reassurance in his eyes that could calm even the fiercest storm. With each passing day, the longing to return to the sea, to him, grows stronger, an ache that gnaws at your very soul. The human world, once your home, now feels foreign and hollow, lacking the vibrancy and depth of the ocean’s embrace.

It saddens you deeply to know you can’t simply walk into the sea and transform back into a mermaid, to leave behind the confusion and reclaim the life that felt more real than anything on land. Life here isn’t what you remember; perhaps it’s because you’ve tasted something far richer beneath the waves. The underwater world was more than just a place—it was a tapestry woven with love, adventure, and the sense of belonging you had never known before. There, you had a family, friends who were like kin. Here, among old acquaintances, you feel like an imposter, a shadow of the person you once were. The friendships you once cherished now seem distant and strained, as if you’re playing a role in a story that no longer fits.

Confined mostly to the apartment, the walls closing in on you, you decide one warm summer day to seek solace at the beach, hoping the sea might offer some answers. The sun blazes in the azure sky, and the water sparkles like a thousand tiny diamonds, beckoning you. As you settle into the warm sand, tears prick at your eyes, blurring the horizon. Your thoughts drift like the tide, pulled between the world above and the world below.

Who are you, truly? A human by birth, yet your heart beats for the sea. You long to breathe its salty depths, to feel the cool caress of the water as you swim alongside Seokjin, to embark on treasure hunts with your oceanic friends. You miss them with an intensity that surprises you, a longing that feels more profound than anything you’ve ever known. The question of your true identity—human or mermaid—plagues you, an endless loop of uncertainty. Can you ever return to the life you’ve lost? The fear that you might never know gnaws at you, an unspoken dread that settles in your chest.

Existential questions swirl in your mind, a tempest of doubt and longing that refuses to quiet. The ache in your head intensifies, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within, the push and pull of two worlds tearing at you.

You sigh, tracing whimsical patterns in the sand with your fingertips, the soft grains a fleeting distraction from the storm inside. Memories of Seokjin flood your mind—his warmth, his kindness, the way his laughter wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. You recall the moment you fell in love with him, the spark that ignited when your eyes first met, a connection that felt ancient and unbreakable. Even when your own name was a mystery, when you were adrift in the haze of lost memories, Seokjin was your anchor, a beacon of safety and love. Now, that connection is a gaping void in your heart, an emptiness that no human life can fill.

Perhaps it was destiny that led you to fall into the sea that night, a twist of fate that drew you to the world where you truly belonged. Maybe you were always meant to be a mermaid, to be with Seokjin. The thought brings a fleeting comfort, like a whisper on the wind, before dissolving into another sigh. The questions remain, offering no solace, only more uncertainty.

Resolutely, you rise, brushing the sand from your hands, the sun’s warmth a faint echo of the warmth you crave. You head back to the apartment, each step heavy with the weight of indecision. As you step inside, the familiar pang of emptiness hits you—it doesn’t feel like home. It never will. Seokjin was your home, and without him, you’re adrift, caught between two worlds and belonging to neither.

Soohee, determined to lift the shadows from your heart, insists on pulling you from the apartment where you’ve been brooding for what feels like an eternity. Reluctantly, you find yourself at your usual café, bathed in the silver glow of a full moon that hangs heavy in the night sky. Your friends chatter and laugh, their joy a distant melody, muffled as if trapped behind a glass wall that you can’t seem to break through. You sip your iced coffee mechanically, the cold seeping through the cup but not reaching the numbness that has settled in your soul.

Your gaze drifts out the window, unfocused, lost in a world of longing that only you can see. The sea calls to you, its siren song winding through your thoughts like a ribbon of silver and salt. The ache in your chest is almost unbearable—the yearning for the water, for the life you abandoned, for Seokjin, pulls at you with a force that’s impossible to ignore.

Suddenly, the lively chatter at your table falters, falling into an unexpected hush, but you remain adrift in your thoughts, lost in the waves of your mind. The voices around you blur into the background, until one breaks through, familiar and stirring, sending a shiver down your spine. That voice—smooth, warm, and unmistakably his—pulls you from your reverie.

You turn, and there he stands, Seokjin, his smile as bright and soft as the moonlight. He has legs now, and though he looks good like this, your heart aches for the mermaid form you fell in love with beneath the waves.

“Hi, babe,” he breathes, his voice thick with longing and the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart swells at the sight of him, and you can feel the warmth of a blush creeping into your cheeks. “Hi, Jinnie,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, but laced with all the affection you’ve kept locked away.

Your friends exchange puzzled glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the air thick with something extraordinary and inexplicable. You offer them a quick explanation, telling them that Seokjin is your boyfriend, though the truth is far more complex than any simple label could capture. Ignoring their confusion, you rise from your seat, your heart pounding as you cross the room to Seokjin, wrapping him in a tight embrace. The moment your head nestles into the crook of his neck, a profound sense of home washes over you, as if the pieces of your heart are finally falling back into place.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his hands gentle as they hold yours, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin, trying to mend the fractures he fears he’s caused.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, though your voice trembles with emotion. “Do you want to go back to my place and talk?” The words hang between you, fragile and full of hope.

When he nods, the relief that floods through you is overwhelming. You say goodbye to your friends with a wave, their bewildered faces fading into the background as you step out into the night, hand in hand with Seokjin, heading back to the apartment you share with Soohee.

The streets are quiet, the full moon casting a soft glow on the path before you. Seokjin’s hand steadies you, anchoring you as you walk through the dimly lit streets, each step bringing you closer to the conversation that will decide your fate. You don’t speak, save your words for when you can give him your full attention, when the night and the moon are the only witnesses to your truths.

It takes only five minutes to reach the apartment building, but each second feels both fleeting and eternal. Inside, the familiar ding of the elevator announces its arrival, and as the doors close around you, your eyes meet his, the silence between you pregnant with unspoken emotions. In that shared look, regret and longing intertwine, a silent apology passes between you.

As the elevator dings again, signaling your arrival on the seventh floor, you offer him a soft smile, your heart heavy with what’s to come. Leading him to the door, you unlock it, and as you step inside, you know that whatever happens next, this moment—this reunion—will be etched into your soul forever.

Both of you step inside, the weight of unspoken words thick in the air. Without exchanging a glance, you move to the kitchen, your movements slow, deliberate. You pour cold water into glasses, the sound of liquid filling the silence that stretches between you. Placing the glasses on the table, you join Seokjin on the couch. His eyes follow you, brimming with emotions that mirror your own—uncertainty, regret, and a longing for the connection that feels so fragile now.

For a few moments, you’re both adrift in the quiet, your mind scrambling to find the right words, the perfect way to express your remorse. But before you can speak, Seokjin breaks the silence with a sigh, his breath shaky, followed by a soft, almost self-deprecating chuckle. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with sorrow.

A lump forms in your throat, and you nod, biting your lip as you fight back the tears threatening to spill. His eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth, now shimmer with regret. “I should have told you the truth,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “About your accident, about the fact that you were human... I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

His words cut through the tension, making your heart clench painfully. Instinctively, your hands reach out for his, seeking the reassurance and love that have always been your anchor. “I forgive you, Seokjin,” you breathe, your voice soft but steady, a tentative smile touching your lips as you rub gentle circles into his hands. “But I need to apologize too. I overreacted when I found out, and I’m sorry for that. I know you didn’t lie, but you did keep things from me. It was wrong, but… I understand why you did it.” You pause, truly grasping the weight of his decisions. “If I were in your position, I don’t know if I would have told everything right away either. I still wish you’d told me sooner,” you add with a dramatic sigh, a hint of playfulness creeping into your tone, “but it’s okay. I just want to move past this. I’ve missed you so much.”

Seokjin squeezes your hands, the gesture full of warmth and relief, bringing a genuine smile to your face. “I’m glad to hear that,” he exhales, as if he’s been holding his breath for an eternity. “I’ve missed you too. That’s why I came back. I needed to tell you that.”

He begins to rise from the couch, and a flicker of confusion crosses your face as you feel the emptiness left by his absence. “What are you doing?” you ask, your voice tinged with worry as you reach out for him, not ready to let go.

“I was going to leave,” he says softly, noticing the sadness clouding your eyes. “I’ve said what I needed to.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you plead, your hand grasping his as if anchoring him in place. “I have more to say. Please, sit down.” He hesitates for a moment, then nods, settling back onto the couch, his gaze fixed on you, waiting.

“I also wanted to thank you,” you continue, your voice trembling slightly as you shift closer to him, your thigh brushing against his. “Thank you for saving me… for loving me. I miss you, Seokjin. I miss my friends, I miss being a mermaid, and I’m afraid I’ve messed everything up. I don’t feel like I belong on land. Everything feels wrong here.”

Tears well up in your eyes, the weight of your emotions finally too much to hold back. Seokjin notices immediately, his fingers tenderly brushing away the tears before they can fall. “It’s okay, love,” he whispers, his voice soothing, filled with the warmth you’ve missed so desperately.

His hand travels to the nape of your neck, gently pulling you into him, your face finding solace in the familiar crook of his neck. You close your eyes, inhaling the comforting scent of him, a mix of saltwater and something uniquely Seokjin. As you rest there, your heart begins to mend, the broken pieces slowly coming together in the safety of his embrace.

He pulls you away gently, just enough to gaze into your eyes. His brown irises shimmer with a depth of emotion, like pearls nestled in the heart of a clam, radiating a love so pure it sends a warm twinge through your entire body. He leans in, and his lips find yours, tentative at first, a delicate reunion after what feels like an eternity apart. The kiss, soft and tender, soon deepens, growing fiery and urgent as his tongue teases for entrance, a silent plea that you eagerly grant.

His hand stays firm at the nape of your neck, keeping you anchored to him, while his fingers weave into your hair, tugging gently. The sensation pulls a needy, strangled sound from your throat—a sound that might have embarrassed you if you weren’t so utterly consumed by the desire coursing through your veins. You’ve missed him desperately, and you want him just as fiercely—want him in this way, as humans, experiencing something entirely new for the both of you. It’s a new experience for both of you. Though you’ve had your share of intimate moments before becoming a mermaid, and Seokjin has spent ample time on land, you’ve never been together like this. The thought sends your heart racing, your body warming with anticipation.

You kiss him again, your hands flying to his face, cupping his cheeks as you sigh into his mouth, savoring the closeness. When you finally pull apart, both of you are panting for breath. “I want you, Jinnie,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of urgency and longing. Your fingers tug at the fabric of his shirt, your need palpable. “I want you like this, before you leave.”

There’s a desperation in your plea, a fear that this moment might slip away too quickly, leaving you aching with the uncertainty of when you might see him again. You sense his desire too, but the unspoken questions about the complexities of a human and merman relationship hover at the edge of your mind. Still, you push them aside, focusing on the one truth that matters now—you want him, here and now.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you silence him with another kiss, this one fervent, consuming. Whatever words he might have had are lost in the heat of the moment. Your hands move with a newfound urgency, pulling off his shirt in a swift motion. As it drops to the floor, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him, his chest strong and defined, reminiscent of his merman form, with broad shoulders that taper to a lean, narrow waist.

Your hands drift lower, unzipping his pants with a quick, determined motion. The bulge in his black boxers is unmistakable, and you stroke him through the fabric, drawing out needy sounds from deep within him that only spur your desire further. You lick your lips in anticipation, wondering what his dick looks like— if he’s thick, long? How he’ll feel, how he’ll fit.

Slipping your hands under the waistband, you grasp his cock, feeling it throb eagerly in your hand. A thrill runs through you at the sensation, the heat and the pulse of him. “Sit up so I can take these off you,” you murmur, your voice thick with desire as you tease the waistband. He complies without hesitation, lifting his hips to help you slide the garment off. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach, and your eyes widen in awe. He’s long, longer than anyone you’ve been with before, the reddened tip glistening with precum that makes your mouth water in anticipation.

You can’t wait to taste him, to feel him, to make this moment last as long as possible.

Your fingers wrap around his dick, feeling his heat, and the sound that escapes his lips—a desperate, trembling whine—sends a shiver of thrill through your entire being. That sound, so raw and vulnerable, makes you crave more, and you can’t help but tease him, pumping his cock slowly, savoring every reaction. His eyes flutter shut, his head tilting back as he succumbs to the pleasure you’re giving him, lost in the sensation.

Leaning in close, your breath hot against his flushed skin, you flick your tongue out, tasting the salty sweetness at the tip. His gasp is sharp, his hips bucking instinctively, and you revel in the power you hold in this moment. Each sound he makes is a symphony, a melody only the two of you can hear, each movement a testament to the electric connection that binds you together.

“Please,” he pants, his voice ragged and needy, “please give me more.”

The plea in his voice ignites a fire in you, and with a sultry glance, you let a bead of spit fall onto his cock, watching it glisten before lowering your mouth to take him in. You start slowly, your tongue tracing the intricate lines and ridges, teasing the sensitive head with gentle flicks. The salty bead of precum bursts on your tongue, fueling the desire burning in your core.

With deliberate slowness, you slide down, taking more of him into your mouth, knowing you can’t take all of him, but determined to give him as much as you can. Your hand wraps around the base, stroking in rhythm with the movement of your lips, your tongue swirling around him in a dance of pleasure. His moans fill the room, a chorus of need and desire, as you work him with practiced skill, sucking on him like a lollipop, hollowing your cheeks to create the perfect suction.

His hands cradle your cheeks, his touch gentle but insistent, and with a loud, wet pop, he pulls you off. His eyes, dark with lust, gaze down at you, his chest heaving. “You look so gorgeous like this,” he breathes, voice thick with longing, “but I really want to know how it feels to be inside you.”

A slow smile spreads across your face, matching the eagerness in his eyes. Together, you strip away the remaining barriers between you, clothes discarded in a careless heap on the floor. The air between you hums with anticipation, every touch, every glance charged with the hunger you both feel. He surprises you by gently pushing you down onto the couch, spreading your legs wide as he drinks in the sight of your glistening folds.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes lingering on you with adoration. “Let me taste you?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you nod, giving him permission. He wastes no time, his mouth descending on you with a hunger that makes your toes curl. His tongue moves with a skilled, silky precision, lapping at your folds, teasing your clit with just the right pressure. You moan his name, your fingers tangling in his chestnut hair, urging him to go deeper, to give you more.

His mouth is relentless, worshiping your body with every stroke, every lick, his own sounds of pleasure vibrating against your sensitive flesh. The sensations he’s creating make your body arch off the couch, your back bowing as the pleasure builds, spiraling higher and higher until it’s almost too much to bear.

His fingers find your nipples, pinching and rolling them in time with the rhythm of his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. And then, it happens—your body tenses, fingers clenching hard in his hair as you push yourself onto his face, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You ride the sensation, lost in the euphoria of release, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you come undone on his tongue.

He gazes up at you with boundless love, his eyes soft as he gives a few final, lingering licks, savoring every drop of you. When he finally moves up to kiss you, it’s deep and passionate, his body fitting perfectly between your legs. You can feel his hand, steady and sure, as he guides his throbbing cock, stroking it briefly before aligning it with your entrance. The anticipation makes your heart race, your body quivering with need as you wait for him to claim you, to make you his in every way.

“Are you ready?” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing hum as he brushes the tip of his cock against your slick folds.

“God, yes,” you breathe, your words barely a whisper as your body aches with need, your pussy practically pleading to be filled. The anticipation coils tight within you, every nerve alight with longing.

With a deliberate slowness, he begins to push into you, his dick stretching you inch by inch. The sensation is exquisite, a blend of pleasure and sweet ache that leaves you gasping. When he finally bottoms out, buried deep inside, it’s as if he touches the very core of you, the stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Move, please,” you grunt, the word coming out thick with desperation. You need more of him, all of him.

He responds to your plea, his hips beginning to roll with a steady rhythm, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through your body. The sound of his hips meeting yours fills the room, a steady beat that matches the pounding of your heart. You shift, hoisting your legs higher, draping them over his broad shoulders. The new angle has him sinking even deeper into you, hitting that spot that makes your breath hitch and your toes curl. The way he kisses your cervix is nothing short of divine, a sensation that borders on the sublime.

He pants your name, the sound rich with need, his hands framing your face as his brows knit together in a beautiful display of focus and desire. He dips down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, and you groan into his mouth, feeling the intensity of his love and the depth of your connection in every movement.

When he rises again, his hands find your thighs, gripping them as he picks up speed, each thrust more insistent, more desperate, as he chases the edge. You feel your own climax building, the tension winding tight in your belly, and your hand drifts down between your legs, finding your clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts. Your breaths come faster, matching the rhythm of his, and as your pussy begins to pulse around him, the pleasure crests, sweeping through you like a tidal wave. You cry out his name, nails digging into his biceps as you ride the peak, your body trembling with the force of your release.

“Fuck,” he pants, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “I’m close… I’m gonna come.”

“Do it,” you beg, your voice ragged with need. “Come inside me, fill me up, please.”

With a stuttering groan, he releases, his warmth spilling into you as his body shudders with the force of his orgasm. His hair sticks to his damp forehead, his skin glistening with sweat, but he leans down to kiss you, his lips tender and sweet. You welcome the salty taste of him, the heat of his body, wanting to hold onto every bit of him, to memorize this moment.

After a few heartbeats, he gently pulls out of you, the loss of his presence making you feel momentarily hollow. He disappears into the bathroom, returning with a soft towel. His touch is careful and loving as he cleans you, the warmth of the cloth a gentle caress against your sensitive skin. The sweetness of his care, the way he looks at you with such tenderness, makes your heart ache, and a lump forms in your throat.

A few tears slip free, unbidden, and Seokjin pauses, his eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

You sniffle, trying to blink away the tears, but they keep coming. “I just… I miss you so much. This was incredible, but I don’t want you to go. I want to be with you every day. I wish I could be with you every day.”

The words break something loose inside you, and soon you’re crying in earnest, the sobs shaking your chest. Now you’re full-on crying. What a mess—crying after sex. You hope he doesn’t think he did anything wrong, because he truly didn’t.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly, pulling you close, your bodies still bare yet wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. The cool night air brushes against your skin, but it’s his touch that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand finds your chin, lifting it gently so your eyes meet his. The uncertainty of when you’ll see him next weighs heavy, your lips trembling with unspoken fears. But his gaze, soft and filled with love, reassures you.

“I wanted to tell you before,” he begins, his voice a tender caress, “you can become a mermaid again if you want. I just didn’t want to assume you’d want that.” His fingers trace your bottom lip, the touch like the brush of a feather, sending ripples of longing through you.

Become a mermaid again?

The words ignite a spark of hope in your chest, warming you from the inside out.

“Really?” you whisper, your eyes glimmering with tears of joy and love, the possibility almost too beautiful to grasp.

“Yeah,” he nods, his own eyes bright with promise. “We just need to talk to the Sea Witch.”

“Can we go now?” you ask, your heart soaring like a gull over the waves.

He laughs softly, the sound a balm to your anxious heart. “Sure. But shouldn’t you say goodbye to your friends?”

You shake your head, the decision firm and resolute. “I’ll just leave them a note.” You know it’s not the most gracious farewell, but you feel no guilt. They searched for you for barely a day when you went overboard, their concern fleeting, unlike the depth of love you feel for Seokjin.

Quickly, you dress, the mundane task filled with a sense of urgency, as if the moment might slip away if you don’t act fast. You find a piece of paper and scribble a brief note to Soohee, thanking her for her kindness and hospitality but explaining that you’re leaving to be with your boyfriend. You don’t mention anything about mermaids or the world beneath the sea; some things are too precious to share.

Hand in hand, you walk with Seokjin down to the beach, your heart beating vividly in your chest, each step a drumbeat of anticipation. Under the silvery light of the moon, you share a tender kiss, the world narrowing to just the two of you as you step into the water. The transformation is swift and mesmerizing—his legs give way to a stunning pink tail, shimmering like precious gemstones in the night.

You swim together, cutting through the water like you were born to it. Out in the open sea, far from the shore, he kisses you deeply, his lips salt-kissed and full of promise. “I’ll swim down and talk with the Sea Witch,” he whispers against your lips. “I’ll come back and tell you everything, okay?”

Time seems to stand still as you wait, the waves lapping gently around you, but it doesn’t feel long before his head breaks the surface again, a smile lighting up his face.

“She said she can turn you back permanently if you want to,” he says, the words like music to your ears, “but the catch is you’ll never be able to revert to your human form again.”

You see a flicker of concern in his eyes, but for you, it’s a small price to pay. Your human life feels distant, like a dream you’ve already forgotten. The call of the sea, the promise of the life you once knew, is too strong to resist. With a resolute nod, you kiss him, the decision clear in your heart. “Please, tell her it’s fine. I just want to be a mermaid again.”

He nods, diving back into the depths, and moments later, the transformation begins. Your legs fuse together, your skin tingles as it turns to scales, and the familiar purple tail forms, glimmering under the water. Your clothes morph into a delicate seashell bra, and you swirl around, reveling in the change. With a burst of speed, you dive deep, almost colliding with Seokjin. You both burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up like joy itself.

“Hey, pretty,” he says, cupping your face and kissing you, his touch as tender as the first time.

“Hey, handsome,” you reply, the love swelling within you, making you feel lighter than the water around you.

You kiss him again, a kiss full of joy, relief, and the overwhelming sense of being exactly where you’re meant to be. The sea, with its ancient structures, hidden caves, and vibrant marine life, feels like home once more. Seokjin holds you close, your tails entwining in an intimate embrace as you swim together, fingers lacing, bodies moving in perfect harmony.

In this underwater world, where the boundaries of the physical fade into the ethereal, your love transcends the ordinary, becoming something larger than life. Your heart floats, carried by the sea’s gentle current, pulling you ever closer to Seokjin. You open your eyes, meeting his hazel gaze, and in his smile, you see your entire world.

As you swirl around each other, the vibrant marine life fades into the background. Fish, other merfolk, dolphins, and whales pass by, their beauty paling in comparison to the magic of Seokjin’s embrace.

“I love you so much, Seokjin,” you whisper, your hands moving to rest over his bare chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“I love you so much too, babe,” he replies, his voice filled with emotion as he places his hand over your heart. With his other hand, he reveals a golden band with a shining pearl, its surface iridescent and familiar in the dim light. “Will you be mine forever?” he asks, his tone both tender and hopeful.

You smile, charmed by his romantic gesture. It’s the second time he’s proposed, understanding you lost the ring when you became human. The effort he put into finding it and presenting it to you again makes your heart swell with love.

“Of course,” you say, your voice filled with certainty. “I’ll be yours forever, and you’ll be mine.”

In that moment, you realize you need nothing else. With Seokjin by your side, true friends under the sea, and a supportive family, life is beautiful. You couldn’t ask for more. As you float in the embrace of the ocean, the vastness of the sea reflecting the endlessness of your love, you know you are home.

→ Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @suker4angst → Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still sometimes use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work (the banners)). → Author’s note(2): I feel so shitty with my writing (not that I think it’s bad, it’s just ‘meh’). I wrote this weeks ago, but I’m only publishing it now… I’m feeling very unmotivated, so this whole mermaid series might take some time to get finished, but I’ll try my best to finish them all 🥹 what do you think? Excited for the rest of the members’ stories? 💜

313 notes · View notes