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teyums · 1 year

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His Secret Admirer - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part two | part three | part four |bonus chapter

wc: 6.7k

a/n: Welcome to my Neteyam X reader series! This first part is kind of a slow burn to establish the plot so there is not much action as I hate when things are rushed. But it is cute and a bit fluffy 🤭 The events of The Way of Water never happened in this series, so this is based in the forest. Enjoy!

Neteyam is 19, reader is 18 in this series.

contains: slight fluff, as little use of y/n as possible, very minor mention of 🪦 (one time)

For as long as you could remember, you had the biggest crush on Neteyam Sully.

You couldn’t help it. He was the sweetest man in the entire clan and he acted much differently from the others. Never cocky, never boastful. It made your heart skip a beat just thinking about how he had always unapologetically been him - a genuine sweetheart and over protective from the start.

The two of you were not strangers, in fact, his presence was quite familiar to you. Throughout your younger years he would protect you from the harsh words of the other kids after witnessing you being bullied the first time. Upon finding out you spent most of your time alone and had no friends, he invited you to hang around him and his siblings with a promise of belonging. You hadn’t realized what an honor that was until you got older.

His brother and sister, Lo’ak and Kiri, quickly took a liking to you and became the friends you never had. But unfortunately for you and Neteyam, the progression of your story was cut short. As the years passed his schedule became bombarded with training duties, leaving him busy basically 24/7 and eventually causing your friendship to become less of a priority. You were hurt, but you had to understand it wasn’t personal. Once he got to a certain age, his parents allowed him to have fun and hang out with kids his age less and less; giving him constant reminders of the shoes he would grow to fill. Apparently, he had to spend every living and breathing moment training for a position you weren’t even sure he actually wanted.

Growing up, your mother told you that crushes were very simple and lighthearted. Something that was meant to make your heart flutter and your cheeks rosy. But having a crush on Neteyam was actually the exact opposite. This was Jake Sully’s son we were talking about. Girls fawned over him everyday, rightfully so. But watching them trail closely behind him as if he were metal and them magnets made your heart pang with jealousy. You knew you would never have a chance, and even if you did, there were probably so many other girls above you on the imaginary list that already had his attention. He would surely never make it down to your name once it came time for him to choose a mate.

Loving him was like yearning for something you didn’t even know existed. It was like opening your mouth to speak but remembering you didn’t have a voice to use. You weren’t a hunter or a healer, you couldn’t sing and you most definitely were not the beauty queen of the clan. You weren’t anything special, so how could you ever think you had a chance to call him yours?

“Nete-yammm” A gorgeous, tall na’vi giggled with a sing song tone, reaching out to caress any area of his body that didn’t already have a three fingered hand touching it. You cringed at the sound of her voice. That was Eyiti, the daughter of an amazing healer in your clan and probably first on his list to be his Tsahik. You absolutely loathed her, the way her eyelashes batted in his direction and how her stride became flirtatious when he was around to make the long braid that covered her queue sway side to side.

You definitely had your reasons for disliking her, one of them being that when you all were younger she had purposely tripped you and caused you to faceplant in the mud right in front of Neteyam. He had so much faith in everyone that he hadn’t even seen her foot conveniently stick out in front of you when you excitedly walked towards him. Before he could reach an arm out to help you up his dad had whisked him away, reminding him he had responsibilities he needed to tend to and at this point girls were the least of his worries.

“Is there anything we can do for you? Do you need your hair re-braided? A massage maybe?” The group asked, snapping you out of your bitter flashback when multiple different voices chirped, taking turns to offer him favors. You watched them swarm around him like vultures, his eyes searching for a way out of the circle.

“Yes, perhaps a massage! Your muscles must be sooo sore from your hunt yesterday.” Yet another voice chimed in, she literally looked like she wanted to eat the flesh off his bones and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

“Neteyam! Are you hungry? I can make something good for you to eat. You need all the energy you can get for your training later, right?”

“No!” Another na’vi woman hissed, latching onto one of his toned arms and hugging it. She almost knocked him over with the force that came from her launching herself at him. You watched him stumble to the side a bit, his stance awkward and stiff as his cheeks flushed due to all the overwhelming attention. Jeez, was she trying to hug his arm or rip it off his body to take it home with her? You didn’t know but honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if that was her intention, these women were insane. They looked like little girls fighting over a doll with the way they were pulling him back and forth by his biceps.

“Girls, please” He spoke softly and forced a smile on his face in attempt to not hurt their feelings, or worse; make them more hostile than they already were. “I am okay, really. I do not need any of you to do anything for me other than enjoy your day. You all are…” he paused before continuing, “very beautiful and nice women but I truly must be going, I cannot be late for my meeting with my father.”

The mention of a discussion of the future with his father earned many dreamy sounding sighs from his personal fan club.

Your face grew hot when you noticed his eyes look up at you, seemingly begging for help with an almost panicked smile on his face. You pressed your lips together to stifle your laugh, then raised your hands in surrender on either side of your head to silently communicate to him that he was indeed on his own with this. You knew he’d be alright seeing as he dealt with this almost daily, but you also knew he was growing tired of it. Poor Neteyam was too nice to hurt their feelings, but even if you tried to help him what could you do? They’d probably tear you apart if you walked up and attempted to steal him away from their grasp. You sure as hell weren’t going to draw attention to yourself by intervening.

Thankfully for him, you heard Neytiri’s sharp voice yell his name from a different direction, causing the girls around him to jump and straighten up in fear of our Tsahik witnessing them behave in such a shameful manner. And from the sound of his mother’s voice- he was definitely late for that meeting. His ears perked up in alert but the expression on his face only showed relief due to her timely save.

“Gotta go girls!” He exclaimed with haste, sounding more excited now than he had their entire interaction. You sighed to yourself and gave him a subtle wave with a gentle smile, watching him take the extra second he didn’t have to smile back at you before he slipped through the small crowd and damn near sprinted to safety.

Your smile grew bigger as you watched him escape, soaking in the way his eyes had previously just held contact with yours for longer than they needed to. A daydream would have washed over you had you not felt the glares of his desperate admirers trying to burn holes through your head. You cleared your throat to break the awkward silence and swiftly turned on your heels, realizing it probably wasn’t the best idea to continue standing there if you valued your life.

~ a few hours later ~

Eclipse had now envelloped a previously sunny day, stealing the sky away and taking the sun’s place for the rest of the night. You sat with your mom on the floor of your hut, just having finished a wonderfully made dinner. “Mama, would you like help with the dishes?” You knew better than to excuse yourself before offering your assistance.

“No no, child. Go on, I know you want to take as much time as you possibly can before it gets late.” She smiled up at you and shooed you out with her hand, the wrinkles creased next to her eyes served in reminding you of how grateful you were to have had your mother by your side all these years.

“Yes mama, thank you.” Nodding your head, you at least stacked the dishes into each other to help as much as you could before you thanked her, quickly standing up from where the two of you were kneeling on the floor.

Your mother quietly laughed to herself at your excitement as you skipped to the doorway, surprised at how you didn’t trip over your own two feet as you gathered your things. You pushed through the curtains that served as a doorway to your home and once stepping foot outside, you felt your lungs expand to take a deep inhale and breathe in the crisp night air.

Almost everyday after dinner, you would excuse yourself with the permission of your mother and embark on a stroll through the forest. At first, she wouldn’t allow you to go more than half a mile without her. Her fears derived from the fact that you were no hunter and you did not like to carry weapons, meaning you could not protect yourself if the time called for it. But upon realizing you had a deep connection with the animals of the forest (and came back unscathed every time) her rules relaxed and her trust in you flourished. Even the Palulukan paid you no mind - you would still bring small chunks of meat with you though, just in case.

You expertly leaped from tree to tree with little to no time between. After taking the same path day by day it was muscle memory by now. You used the ball of your foot to stabilize your landing on the thick branches after each jump, and your opposite leg carried you to the next. This was your favorite part of everyday, traveling through the breathtaking forest with your own two legs and being able to really appreciate the vast land you called home. The way the rough, damp tree bark felt against your toes; the small chirps and mating calls of animals below you that filled your ears. You much preferred it to flying on an Ikran; they were loud and would scare away the small animals of the forest before you could say hello.

Before you knew it, you had reached your quiet hideaway above the waterfalls. A sigh of relief left your lips as you leisurely made your way up onto the bank of the cliffside; the ground illuminating briefly in the spots where you had stepped. Careful to not crush the flowers that had just recently bloomed, you crouched down closer to the ground to collect one of the things you came for. Pulling the bag you had brought with from behind your body, you patiently searched through the vegetation until locating one of your mother’s favorite herbs for stews, and another for salves.

That was the deal the two of you had made. If you were going to be out exploring the forest without her, you might as well make yourself useful and and collect what’s needed for the house. You didn’t mind though, your mother was getting older and you would do anything to make her job easier. Your father had died during the battle with the sky people almost twenty years ago and was one of many casualties. He was gone before your mother even had the chance to tell him she was pregnant. Every time you expressed sadness about it, she would hug you and remind you that he died with honor; fighting along side his people and protecting what was left of home tree. She gave birth nine months after his passing and raised you alone. She was offered help from the village, but did not want to accept pity. “We are all struggling from the aftermath of this war, not just I.” She would humbly say. She truly was the strongest person you knew.

After gathering a good amount, you gently reclined and rested against the large tree trunk that had been supporting your back for a couple weeks now. Closing your eyes, you let the sounds of the water crashing into the rocks below invite you into a calm, lucid state - the beat of your heart slowing to a steady rhythm as you lay in nature.

The serene forest awarded you with its peaceful lullaby for about fifteen minutes before the crunch of a twig snapping interrupted your meditation. You gasped quietly, whipping your head around in alert, your eyes straining to try and see through the trees. Not many animals came this high up into the forest, mostly birds or the Syaksyuk (night lemurs) swinging through the trees above. But these steps sounded heavy and that made your ears lower with worry.

“Who’s there!” You called out, rising to your feet with your hands prepped on your bag to secure your mother’s herbs in case you had to make a run for it. You squinted your eyes at the darkness in confusion, the sounds of the leaves crunching were not frequent enough to be the result of multiple feet.

“Ow! Damnit,” You heard a familiar voice curse, your ears perking back up when a tall na’vi with long braids emerged into your view.

“Neteyam?”

He whipped his head up to look at you, his braids swaying to the other side of his head in sync with him. “[Y/n]?” He questioned right back at you. “What are you doing here? It’s late, you know.” He warned, brushing off his shoulder and looking around. “Are you alone?”

Still confused by his sudden appearance, you shook your head slightly. “I come here almost every night, and yes I’m… alone,” you spoke, your voice quieting with the last word that left your lips as you looked at him in bewilderment. Your eyes traveled from every inch of his body and you found yourself gawking at how he looked even more beautiful while under the moonlight. Your attention quickly averted when his gaze found its way back to you, raising your head and stabilizing your tone. “Forget about me, what are you doing here?”

He noticed you staring but decided against addressing it. He chuckled and shook his head, “I too come here often,, but only during the day. The forest is very dangerous outside of our village at night, [Y/n].” He said softly and took a step closer. It almost looked as if he were worried about you.

“Yes, I-” You felt the urge to take one backwards but your feet stayed planted in the grass, your brain reminding you that you’re literally standing on a cliff right now. “I’m aware of the dangers,” you continued. “But the animals don’t pay me any mind, I actually think they sort of like me. And I always bring scraps of food, just in case.”

He nodded, seemingly approving your method of preparation.

“I don’t have anymore, though. The forest is a bit quiet tonight so I gave it all to a Palulukan I saw a little ways back.”

Neteyam’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he took a step closer to you once more, in an attempt to make sure the words he heard were correct. “A- a Palulukan?” He questioned, “Like, those six-legged creatures that will tear your head off without thinking? Are you feeling alright?” His face washed over with genuine concern as he brought a three fingered hand up to feel your forehead.

“Yes, Neteyam.” You giggled at his astonishment. “I know what a Palulukan is, you skxawng.” You teased with an eyeroll and gently shooed his hand away, speaking up again to extinguish his worries. “But really, I’m fine. See?” You nodded slowly, extending your arms out to him to show your lack of injury.

“Huh, no scratches…” His eyes trailed along your smooth skin and you felt goosebumps prickle down your arms. You hadn’t remembered it being chilly tonight.

“No scratches,” you parroted, turning your back to him and returning to your previous resting area. “Come, sit with me.”

The corners of Neteyam’s mouth moved to form a small grin and he nodded his head in silent agreeance, taking you up on your invitation and sitting down next to you. He mimicked your movement, scooting back to relax against the base of the tree. A loud sigh of genuine relief could be heard from him and to you it sounded like he had been holding it in all day. You had your attention focused on the soft blades of grass that tickled your legs, suddenly tilting your head to the side with a new found query.

“Wait,” You started, earning a curious hum from him that permitted you to continue. “I thought you said you come here during the day time? Correct me if I’m wrong but, it looks pretty dark out here right now.” You joked.

Neteyam was always so lighthearted and easy going, so your eyebrows furrowed at him when he continued to stare straight forward at the waterfall across the ravine. You had expected him to laugh or at least crack a smile like he always did at one of your jokes, but he looked conflicted when he answered. “I just… I had to get away from my parents for a little while. They’re driving me crazy.” He grumbled.

Oh my Eywa, I’m such an idiot. This is the first time in years we’ve been completely alone and I’ve already soured his mood.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“No,” He interrupted, turning his head to look at you with a smile that instantly calmed your nerves. “Don’t feel bad, it is not your fault… Besides, I’m glad I came when I did. Had I gone earlier, I wouldn’t have gotten to see you.” His voice laced thick with his accent, you felt your stomach swarm with butterflies at the feeling of his large hand now resting atop yours. His warm yellow eyes glistened, looking even more beautiful to you than the stars above your heads. Your lips parted slightly while the two of you sat there appreciating each other’s presence, his smile growing wider when he cocked his head to the side at the apparent loss of your train of thought.

Your eyes fell from his and focused themselves on your overlapped hands so you could blush in peace, earning a quiet snicker and a head shake from him. “Yes...” you finally responded, looking back up once you confirmed your heart wouldn’t explode and ruin the moment. “It has been a while since we hung-out.” You smiled, your tone mellow.

The two of you sat with each other for a while. Time passed so quickly whenever you were around him that you didn’t even know how long it had been. You talked about everything. His parents, how your mother was doing, and overall what he’d been up to. There was never a boring moment with Neteyam. At one point you expressed interest in his training, but the excitement was not reciprocated so you dropped the topic and instead joined in stargazing with him.

“So… How was that meeting you had earlier, with your parents?” You cleared your throat and spoke up after a bit, breaking the silence.

He scoffed and scratched his head lightly, throwing his arm up in an annoyed gesture. “Stupid and unnecessary. They tell me the same thing everyday as if I don’t already know.”

“What is it now? Are they scolding you for Lo’ak’s antics again?” You giggled at his aggravated huff in response to your question, using this moment to your advantage and gently resting your head on his shoulder. You genuinely thought it would be something along those lines. But when he hesitated before letting you in on exactly what they were pestering him about, you became worried.

“They want me to find a mate. Soon.”

His shoulders tensed and you blinked in disbelief at his words, your body slouching slightly against his arm with disappointment. The words that left his lips were not at all what you had been expecting. “Oh…” Your voice was almost a whisper with how hushed it was and you were glad he couldn’t see your face right now. A thousand thoughts clouded your brain at once, were they due to surprise at what he said, or fear?

“I’m not ready.” His voice snapped you out of your pity party, and you remembered that this wasn’t about you. It was about him. You had to set aside your feelings and hear him out. You guys were just friends anyway, and what else are friends for, right?

You laughed dryly, cringing after at how forced it sounded. “I think you’re just nervous, Neteyam. Besides, you have loads of options to choose from. Any one of your admirers from earlier will do fine.” You shrugged and tried to sound as encouraging as possible, picking the petals from a flower that you had taken into your grasp after you removed your hand from his.

“None of those women will ever be my mate.” He stated sternly, as if he sounded offended that you had even suggested it. His voice was calm and the volume low, but the tone he said it in made your breath falter. “Those are not the kind of women I want. They only see me for my status in the clan.” He mumbled, his feelings sounding hurt.

You sat up and turned your body towards him, dipping your head to try and meet his avoidant eyes. “’Teyam…” you said solemnly. He still hadn’t met your eyes but his ears perked up slightly in response to the old nickname you had for him. Watching him pick blades of grass out of the ground to distract himself from the conversation, you sighed to yourself in frustration. Not at him, but at the fact that the constant reiteration of the importance of his training throughout the years really had him thinking such a thing. “Look at me.”

His head lifted slowly but his eyes wouldn’t stay on your face. He gnawed at the inside of his bottom lip, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up.

“You-” grabbing his hand in both of yours, you shook it slightly for emphasis and squeezed firmly, “-are so much more than a title, and you know that. You are worth so much more. Do you hear me, Neteyam?” Your gaze held strong and your shyness had no control over you at this point. You wanted to make sure he understood what you were saying. You wanted to make sure he knew you were telling the truth. You needed him to.

His eyes finally locked on yours and it was his turn to feel shy this time. A small smile broke through his previous frown, and his eyes fell to your lips for a split second before he looked back up at you. “Okay.” He answered, sounding satisfied with your reassurance and stroking the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb as a thank you.

The air between the two of you felt electric when you remembered you were still holding his hand. Your chest began to rise and fall with weighted breaths when you noticed he seemed to be admiring your features. You cursed yourself for wondering what it would feel like to kiss him- thinking about how well your lips would pair with his. Your intense feelings for him had calmed slightly due to his absence, but now you felt them bubbling up and threatening to burst through the surface all over again.

A loud horn sounded suddenly, interrupting your thoughts and signaling the end of a day. The both of you jumped and your hands retracted, startled out of your intimate interaction.

“Oh my Eywa… I was supposed to be home almost an hour ago!” You exclaimed, sounding panicked as you rushed to grab your things.

Neteyam’s eyes widened and he immediately stood up, looking equally as panicked upon remembering what happened the last time he got you home late to your mother when you guys were younger.

“I-I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I distracted you.” Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he eagerly extended his free one out to help you up while sounding apologetic. “Come, I’ll take you home.”

You accepted his offer and allowed him to assist you to your feet, shaking your head repeatedly as you stood in front of him. “No, no. This is on me, I completely lost track of time.”

Though it wasn’t his fault you had stayed out much too late into the night, he was right about one thing. He was able to distract you so easily, you became clumsy in his presence. You mindlessly took a wrong step to the side, crying out in pain when your foot came in contact with the thorn bush you usually remember to avoid- it’s sharp and thick thorns piercing through your skin.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Neteyam questioned frantically, his voice loud and riddled with worry when you yelled and helplessly clutched onto his biceps for support.

Pain shot like lightning through your leg and with your eyes tightly shut you hissed out an answer. “M-my foot, I-” you managed to get out between sharp inhales, another cry of pain interrupting your sentence when you attempted to lower your foot to see if you could walk.

“No!” Neteyam spoke against your movement, sighing when his advice came too late. “You cannot walk like this, hold onto me and keep your foot raised.”

Now, if it didn’t feel like your entire leg was on fire, you probably would’ve crumbled at the feeling of his warm hand sliding between the fold behind your knee and lifting it slightly to assist you with his instructions. The two of you were in such a compromising position, yet you couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Maybe we should sit down-“

You hopped a bit and shook your head, sliding your arms around his neck to reduce the weight burdened on your free leg as he held your thigh. “The thorns, they’re poisonous,” you breathed out. “I have to get home.”

“Poi-“ His mouth fell open in shock, almost repeating the word that had alarmed him. His jaw clenched seeing you in pain, he felt bad knowing he wasn’t able to help. “Can you fly? Call your ikran, now.”

“I can’t-“

“How foolish of me, you probably cannot fly. We will go on mine.” Before you could get another word out he raised his pointer finger and thumb to his lips with haste, resulting in a crisp, loud whistle.

The truth is… you couldn’t fly even if you wanted to. You never tamed an Ikran of your own and you were deathly afraid of flying. Because of this, you traveled solely by foot and had no intention of changing that. Until now.

You squealed in fear when his Ikran dropped down onto the cliffside in an instant, turning and shielding your face from its sharp, flapping wings. “Neteyam-“

“Come, we must go. There’s no time.” He urged, his eyes locked on your trembling foot as he waited for you to move.

“Wait!” you raised your voice, only to get his attention. “I’m… I’m scared of flying. Terrified.” You gulped, now looking at the giant creature but careful to not make direct eye contact.

“You are?” His voice was soft, intent on not making you feel bad for something you couldn’t control. He looked conflicted. Neteyam was never the type of man to make you do something you didn’t want to do, but he truly had no choice. “[Y/n], I am sorry, but we must. We need to tend to your wound as soon as possible. I understand your fear, so I will tell her to fly slow. No sharp tuns or dips, yes?”

Closing your eyes for a second, you sighed and slowly nodded your head. You attempted to calm yourself and slow your breathing as best as you could, knowing there was no other option but to face your fear. He waited for you to prepare yourself before swooping his arm below your legs and lifting you off the ground gently.

You actually wanted to kick yourself. To be in his arms was everything you wanted and more, minus the raging pain paired with numbness that was slowly starting to travel past your toes. You tightened your hold on his neck once arriving at the Ikran’s saddle and he felt your body tense against him.

“Mawey, [Y/n]. It will be alright, I promise.” Delicately placing you down on the back of his Ikran, he motioned for you to swing your other leg over before climbing on in front of you. “Hold here.” He reached behind him and grasped your hands, bringing them forward and positioning your palms to lay flat on his toned chest.

Your heart was beating so fast, you were surprised you even heard his voice through the loud thumping ringing in your ears.

“You feel my heart?”

“Y-yes.” You nodded almost as soon as the question left his mouth. His heart was the only thing you could feel. Hell, you couldn’t even feel your legs but you knew the numbing poison hadn’t travelled through your bloodstream that fast. You prayed they would regain feeling so you wouldn’t fall off this giant bird.

“Slow your breathing, listen to the beat of my heart and allow yours to do the same.” He instructed calmly, fastening his hands on the reigns.

You swallowed what felt like a giant lump in your throat, scooting closer to him and leaning forward to press your front against his back as he prepared to take off. The feeling of your skin against his was enough to make your breath shudder, but you really couldn’t use anymore excitement right now. “What if I fall?” You whispered.

“Nonsense,” He chuckled lowly and the vibration of his voice could be felt against your cheek. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

You pulled back ever so slightly, your mouth agape and your eyes staring at the back of his head in disbelief at how easily those words came to him. However, your moment of pondering was cut short when he beckoned his Ikran to take off, your grip retightening and your body gluing back to his instantly. The large animal squawked before plunging itself off the cliff, resulting in a frightened scream from you.

“Tamtam, Saya. We have a new rider with us, and she’s a bit fearful.” Pulling up slightly, he used one of his hands to softly pat her strong neck to soothe her. The animal listened to his demands, flying steadily and slowing her pace to a gentle glide through the air. “How are you doing back there?” He asked, as if your nails digging crescent marks into his pecs couldn’t give him the answer he searched for.

Finally opening your eyes, you carefully peeked over your shoulder and peered down at the forest below you, letting out a small gasp. Softening the grip you had on the man in front of you, your eyes twinkled with admiration. “Neteyam, i-it’s beautiful…” you spoke in awe. You had never seen the forest from above until now and experiencing such a sight with him made you feel as if you had been missing out this entire time. You almost completely forgot about the fear that consumed you just a few minutes prior.

After a few more minutes, Saya began to descend in front of your home- pulling you out of the spell the beauty of the forest had cast on you. The flight came to a gradual halt and her wings flapped in place to cushion the landing as much as possible. You saw the flickering of candle flame illuminating from inside.

Oh no. Please don’t be awake, please don’t be awake, please do not be awake.

Silently cursing yourself, you removed your hands from Neteyam’s chest. You secretly pouted at the sudden lack of warmth, but right now you had bigger issues to tend to- one of them being facing your mother. Neteyam dismounted swiftly, giving you a reassuring look and allowing you time to slide one of your arms around his neck before lifting you off, carrying you bridal style. “Not so bad, huh?”

Both your heads snapped to the entrance of your home as you watched your mother run out before you could answer him. “[Y/N!]” She yelled, not caring if her voice carried to the other homes. “Where have you been?!”

She looked worried sick, you felt terrible.

“Neteyam?” She questioned, obviously confused as to why he was with you- or maybe why you weren’t standing on your own two feet.

“Hi Ma…” You started, earning an angry glare from her. “I can explain.”

She whipped a hand up and closed her fingers, effectively silencing you as she turned her gaze back to Neteyam. “Young man, what were you doing with my daughter, this late in the night?” Her voice was eerily calm.

He lowered his head slightly to show respect. “I am sorry, I will explain everything… but your daughter is injured and we must tend to it, immediately.”

Her expression changed instantly, her eyes searching to find a wound until she noticed your swollen foot. “Oh my goodness… Come!” She demanded, urging Neteyam to bring you into the house.

“Place her down, here. Gently.”

He did as he was told and crouched down, removing his arm from beneath your legs once you sat down completely. He ran his now sweaty hands along his thighs and with his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ he exhaled nervously, standing and obediently placing himself against the wall. He looked scared shitless and was more than happy to remove his hands from your skin in the presence of your agitated mother. You looked up at him apologetically, mouthing a silent ‘I’m sorry’.

You winced in pain at your throbbing foot, taking over for Neteyam and explaining to your mother what had happened before she could ask again. “I-I stepped in a thorn bush,” You paused, reluctantly continuing your sentence. “the poisonous one…”

She hissed in distaste, her back to you as she gathered what was needed to make medicine. “Everyday you go out, what do I tell you?” She seethed.

“Be care-“

“To be careful!” She cut you off before you could finish and you winced again, but not because of your foot. She lowered herself to the ground and propped your foot up on her leg to examine it. “You are lucky, child. The thorns could have broken off in your foot and put you in much worse shape.” She grumbled, wetting a cloth and using it to clean the dried blood from your skin.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I lost track of time and got distracted.” The pain began to subside as the poison completely numbed your foot, now working its way up your calf.

You watched her gaze shift to a nervous Neteyam who stood stiff and silent against the walls of your hut, looking at him suspiciously while he tried to find the right words to use.

“Ma, please.” You pleaded, your voice bringing her attention back to you like you wanted. “It was not like that, I swear it. He found me after I stepped on the thorns, had it not been for him I would not have been able to make it back.” You had lied a bit, but it was mostly the truth. “He had nothing to do with this, it was all my fault. He only helped me home, Mama.” You didn’t want her blaming Neteyam for something that wasn’t his doing, he had enough of that at home. Your mother was extremely protective over you because of what happened to your father, you were all she had left so she always came on strong at first when it concerned you.

She became quiet in a moment of contemplation, “I apologize, Neteyam. Thank you for bringing my daughter back to me safely.” She nodded her head, looking up at Neteyam with gratitude this time.

He smiled shyly as if it were no big deal, holding his arm with one hand as he dropped his head and shook it from from side to side, his braids following suit. He hadn’t changed a bit. Always quick to take the blame, but never to accept praise.

“Will your parents be angry with you?” You chimed in, looking at him worriedly. He already had so much on his plate, you felt bad at the thought of contributing. You relaxed slightly once he shook his head in attempt to assure you that he would be okay.

“It is fine, really. Making sure you are safe is far more important to me.” He responded, looking into your eyes and keeping them there until your mother cleared her throat to remind the two of you of her presence. “Ah, but I really should be going. It is late.” He swallowed, managing to tear his eyes away from your face. “Will she be alright?”

Your mother nodded, wiping the wet cloth along the sole of your foot once more. “Yes, thanks to you. Please, greet your parents for me?”

You watched as he brought two fingers up to his forehead then brought them back down with a slight bow, respectfully acknowledging your mother and excusing himself.

“Goodnight…” You sent him off with a coy wave, bringing your fingers up to gently rest against your lips as you watched him leave. The second he was out of your sight, everything that had just transpired in the last hour and a half began to wash back over you.

Thanking Eywa that your mother’s back was turned to grab few ingredients for an ointment, you looked to the side and picked up your bag, feeling slightly guilty. “I brought your herbs, mama. I’m sorry you have to waste them on me.” Your voice trailed off as you ushered them off in her direction.

“Nonsense. When it comes to you, nothing is a waste. We can always get more herbs, but I only have one of you. Do you understand?” She reassured, her hand on your cheek to comfort you before reaching for your bag. “You mean much more to me than any of these things.”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned into her touch with a sweet smile and a nod, grateful you had such a caring mother. You watched as she expertly ground up the herbs with a bit of aloe vera, her technique crafting it into paste that would aid in the healing of your injury. She dipped two of her fingers into the bowl, gently applying it to the puncture marks in your flesh.

“So…” She started, her voice laced with curiosity.

You groaned, bringing your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment as you already knew a boatload of questions were about to follow. Regardless of how tough your mother could be with him, she was surprisingly supportive of your crush on Neteyam and even encouraged it. You always made sure to tell her what a respectful young man he was.

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” She laughed, grabbing the bandage next to her and wrapping it around your foot as she continued. “Look, I just think you should go for it. You should to tell him how you feel, don’t you think he deserves to know?”

You sighed and looked down at your hands, twiddling with your fingers as you thought of what to say. “I don’t know Ma… I don’t want to get hurt. His parents want him to find a mate now, but he said he isn’t ready.”

“My sweet child,” Your mom took your hands into hers, causing you to look up at her. “He is waiting for you.”

a/n: Alright y’all, the first part of my Neteyam x reader series is doneeee ahh I’m so excited!! Isn’t Neteyam the sweetest? 🙈 I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! It took about three days and so many grueling proof reads, so if they’re still any typos I missed I apologize. 😅 I am actively tweaking my brain for more ideas for the upcoming parts, so please forgive me if part 2 takes a second to drop. lmk if you want to be tagged! 💞

Please like + reblog if you can it’s much appreciated 💞

#avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #avatar way of water #avatar twow #neteyam fluff #neteyam avatar #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x y/n

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chaedomi · 9 months

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LITTLE MERMAID

SUMMARY . unable to witness your death a second time, your sister desperately strives to change your fate, even if it meant ridding of others to prevent it.

CHARACTERS . ARIADNE VALENTINE

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, violence, abuse, death, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 1.8k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . i have only read up to chapter 17 in Becoming The Villain's Family when this idea just spawned. so, the timeline in which i wrote this fic will focus more so on the scenes in the beginning.

HERE’S A fun fact. Did you know that if you were to encounter a Mermaid, the higher the chances are of encountering a Siren as well? In addition to the creatures viewing each other as family, because of a mermaid’s delicate nature, sirens are naturally possessive of them. They become drunk and hypnotized by a mermaid’s affection, and thus, diligently fulfill a mermaid’s desires to preserve the shine they thrive off of. It’s an interesting tale, to learn the charmers become the charmed. However… if The Mermaid were to ever fall, so will The Siren as their main source of warmth has died. They will descend into madness and become the hostile nature they are known for or even worse, willingly succumb to the hands of death.

In the past, both you and your half-sister, ARIA, led a pitiful life. Throughout your years, your stepmother would force your sister to consume a potion, rendering her speechless, whereas yours will gently hug you, encouraging you to always remain neutral. It was confusing and painful, as it seemed those were the only moments your mothers cared about you both. Your stepmother, quiet as a mouse, and your mother, apathetic as a heart of stone.

During those times, you and Aria were grateful for each other, more so Aria, as she would cling to your tiny body crying and trembling while you tenderly kissed her cheeks and wiped away her tears.

Eventually, the truth came to light when you were the age of five, and your sister, ten. Through the season of spring, your mother passed, inclusive of your stepmother, who apparently went mad and took her own life after hearing of your mother’s death. By eavesdropping on the maids, it was then you both learned of each other’s identities, Aria, a Siren, and you, a Mermaid.

Sirens, gaining the name of the ancient monster, that flowed through your stepmother’s blood, through their songs, they possessed people, treated them, controlled them, and shook their emotions. Mermaids, gaining the name of the mythical creature, that flowed through your mother’s blood, through their tears, they shed milky crystals that held the power to repel a siren’s song. With those tears too, they were capable of granting grand wishes whether great or small, destructive or creative. Despite how dangerous their power was, they were harmless and good-natured.

Twelve years ago, your father had kidnapped a Mermaid and a Siren, presenting them to the world as they were originally known as myth. That Mermaid was your mother, and The Siren, your stepmother.

Your mind was too young to understand the information told and realize how dire the situation was. So, it worried you to see your sister in a constant state of panic and tears every now and then. You had asked her several times for the reason for her grief, but she brushed your concerns off each time, snuggling closer to you. And your worries slowly diminished as well as you returned the hug. Till… it happened one night when your father was unbelievably drunk out of his mind.

It was sudden, you were telling a story to your sister while she clung to you before your father barged inside the room, a wave of hatred visible in his eyes. One thing led to another and your sister was dragged outside the room by the hair. Even though you couldn’t make sense of what was happening, the sword that was tightly grasped in his hand as he took your sister away, was enough for you to spring into action. A silly game of tug-of-war it was, you, screaming your lungs out while you pulled at the hem of your sister’s nightgown, and your father, effortlessly dragging you both, to where he pleased. What it took to stop him, was the perfectly sweet voice of your sister, and the solid gems that fell from your eyes as you wept. He resembled a total madman, reaching toward you both as he cackled about the materials he could possess. You could only cry harder as your sister hugged you, burying your head against her chest.

Your lives were horrific beyond that point. Living the lives of a Mermaid and a Siren, you both were forced to mature quickly, learning and hearing unspeakable things. Becoming caged animals, you were pressured to fulfill the greed of scum. And despite all the abuse you suffered, you continued to push smiling, even when the exhaustion taking a toll on your body became more visible with each passing day.

Such a selfless soul you were too, quick to jump to others' needs instead of yours. Whenever your sister silently wept after a song, you would rub her head in comfort, sweetly hushing her as she lay in your lap. Whenever she was angry, you would squeeze her hands, attempting to calm the brewing storm in her heart. Whenever she felt as though she couldn’t make it, you would kiss her cheek, saying that she has done so well.

She, of course, soaked up every affection you provided. Too occupied wallowing in her sorrows and the comfort she will receive afterward from you, she forgot that you were also affected, dealt with the same ill-treatment, as well as that you had your limitations. So when the day arrived when you had no tears left to cry, her heart shattered.

It was a pitiful sight to witness, your sister in a mess as she cried desperately to you, begging for you to stay. You wished that you could, but the longer your head rested on her lap, and her cold hands held your cheeks, you felt more of your life fade away. So you forced yourself to cry, to shed one more tear, and it fell.

With that tear, you wished, that perhaps in another lifetime, both you and your sister could enjoy your days in endless glee, like free birds soaring in the sky.

As you drew your last breath, your sister too accepted her death, willing to perish alongside you. You were her joy, her motive to continue her days. But, when you left, so did those things. And she sang her last song, calling to whoever could come and console her weeping soul. Even when her savior came and held her in his arms, your sister’s eyes never left your corpse as she continued to sing. Maybe, if she died, she’ll be reunited with you in the depths of hell, unknowing of the white glow that shone by your corpse as she closed her eyes…

…So it came as a great surprise when she reopened her eyes not to hell, but to a lovely floral scent wafting in the air… As it dawned on her that she reverted to her ten-year-old self her head immediately snapped to the spot beside her on the bed, a lump visible under the duvets. With a shaky hand, she slightly tugged it downward… revealing your adorable face.

She almost cried there on the spot, leaning forward to press a kiss against your temple. She remembered that wish you made on your deathbed… could this outcome be a result of your wish being granted? If so, she will not take it for granted. Your father… who ruined both of your lives, she will inflict vengeance on him. She will save you from your fate no matter what it takes.

“MY YOUNG Lady, you seem upset. Is everything alright?” Dana asked, chuckling lightly. Damn right, she’s upset. And no, she’s not alright. Can’t she tell? She was considered to be weak physically, but, god, the sight in front of her filled her with so much rage that she was capable of snapping the spoon in her hand in half.

The maid assigned to you was just doing what she ought to do, heeding your commands. If you tell her to bark like a loyal dog, she will do just that and obey your orders. So, naturally, if you had instructed her to spoon-feed you the food brought to the table, the maid would oblige.

Aria's teeth sunk further into her bottom lip, listening to how you squealed and laughed in glee when the maid gently wiped the crumbs off your face, chuckling along with you. Why were you acting so sweet and loving to someone you just met? She was there longer than that maid ever was, no? She was the only one there for you when you suffered, so rightfully, whatever abnormality or emotion you may feel, she is the only one allowed to witness it.

"What is it you don't like, My Young Lady?" Tearing her eyes off the sight that sickened her greatly, she stared blankly at her caretaker, who contrasted her expression with a beaming smile. She was so focused on the scene that she hadn't realized her body moved on its own, scribbling messily on the piece of paper she used to communicate.

She slowly wrote again. “You don’t like the maid, My Young Lady?” Dana tried to hide her amusement over the situation, albeit terribly, I may add, the fingers pressed against her quivering lips a dead giveaway. “So, that’s why you have that frown… Young Lady, are you perhaps jealous?”

Jealous? The feeling inside her body burns too hot for it to be deciphered as jealousy. What she felt was a pure unspoken rage that could tip over at any given moment. Such anger she felt… was similar to the night she confronted her drunken father after she awoke as a child. In short, she didn’t want this maid to just leave. She wanted her gone. Entirely.

“Hmmm…” Dana frowned at Aria’s discontent. Pinching her chin in thought, she glanced in your direction. “The Other Young Lady does not know how to use cutlery correctly, hence why she always seeks assistance. However… Ah!” Dana snapped her fingers as a thought popped up. “Why don’t you feed The Other Young Lady instead?”

The rate at which Aria immediately perked up was comical. Eyes sparkling like fine jewels, she was practically buzzing in her seat! Satisfied that she made her Young Lady smile, Dana quickly moved to update your maid on the change of plans.

You were very confused when your maid abruptly stood from her chair, big-doe eyes staring when she stood near the doorway with a large smile plastered on her lips. But when your sister approached you, taking the spot the maid sat on to feed you, all questions vanished. You were already glad to see your sister just… there, so, think of the wave of happiness that rushed over you when she wrote she wanted to feed you!

The food served became tastier now that your sister was the one feeding you. And with a full mouth of food and eyes that glimmered in admiration of your sister, you huffed out an ‘I love you’ as best as you could. It was a bit gross to see some bits of food fly out of your mouth, but the warmth that clenched her heart from your genuineness overpowered her disgust. Smiling fondly, she wiped your messy mouth before leaning over to press a loving kiss on your forehead.

Your happiness truly is the source of her own happiness. Keep smiling for her, she will do anything to preserve it and anything for you, her little mermaid.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #becoming the villain's family #btvf #btvf x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

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Celebrity Crush

Hi guys!

This is a new one, but it's kind of a suit from this story. A bonus chapter, I don't know how we can call it.

I hope you will like it :)

TW : Ona Batlle being perfect as ever.(I'm so in love)

Summary : You're a worldclass singer in an interview after you left your group because your manager and staff were asshole.

Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

After leaving your group's separation, you quickly felt better. The depression that awaited you flew away like a cloud of smoke once the stress and pressure that were constantly on your shoulders stopped existing. Even when you were on trial against your old record company, your former bosses and manager, you felt good. Because even if you ended up paying millions, it meant you were free again. And that, in your eyes, was priceless.

You must also admit that being able to be with your girlfriend on a daily basis is probably the main reason for your well-being. Ona has always been the most important person in your life and since your return to Barcelona, you have trouble being separated from her. You gladly accompany her to her training sessions and you will also happily get her when she has finished. You go to each of her games as well, even if they are on the other side of Spain or in another country. You have so much time to catch up and your wear your jersey with her name with pride.

You were afraid at first that having you around all the time would end up bothering Ona, but she seems as happy to have you back as you are. At first, you didn’t know what to do while the footballer was training, so you cleaned up your house. As the days passed, you started composing and playing music again, for fun. Your apartment may no longer shine like a mint, but it has the advantage that your housekeeper stops staring at you when you don’t put their products in the right place.

It's only two years later that you decide to release a music album, entirely produced by you. You don’t want to experience the same kind of problems as before and you’ve decided that you’re never better served than by yourself. The songs are mostly love songs related to Ona to be fair.

When you looked for musicians, you asked the guys but only Ricardo agreed. You didn’t blame the other two, even if you now use the thing to annoy them when you see them again and you start bickering like fifteen year olds.

You choose your interviews yourself and it's you who plans your concert schedules, arranging to place them at times or places that don't make you miss any match of Ona. It's sometimes more difficult for her to come see you in concert, but these being the same each time, you don't hold it against her. You have an agent, though, who is no one but your big brother, who you have complete confidence in, and who knows how to be a watchdog when it comes.

After dropping Ona off at practice today, you head to the centre of Barcelona for an interview. You initially hesitated before accepting, but when sold to you as a way to also talk about homosexuality that is forced to hide in the music world, you quickly accepted.

"Drive carefully. I will try to listen to you" Ona promised before kissing you tenderly caressing your cheek.

"All right. Be careful Onita."

Ona smiled at you and left the car, not without kissing you one more time when you whines when you saw her leaving your car.

The report that is broadcast before your interview attracts all your attention and you are happy that the subject is approached in this way. The way they educate young people on the subject also pleases you very much. During the ad page and the beginning of your interview, you send a quick message to Ona and your mother, telling them that the interview will soon begin.

The headphones on your ears, you smile at the journalist who is interviewing you. She is a well-known and respected journalist in Spain and you are happy that she is the one doing your interview.

"So Y/N, hello! How are you?"

"I’m fine thank you and you?" you answer with a smile.

"Well, I’m glad you’re here."

You smile and nod. She informed you that the interview was being filmed to be broadcast online on the radio’s website, but don’t forget that most people can’t see you. So you also thank her orally.

After discussing the report and general views, she gently guides the discussion on your own case, as agreed. You naturally asked Ona’s permission to talk about her before accepting the interview.

"And so in your case, it was your record company at the time that prohibited you from mentioning your girlfriend?"

"Yes. In truth, I was not allowed to talk about my homosexuality at all. It was the record company that started releasing subtle information to make the fans believe that something was going on between Juan and me"

"And you were already with your girlfriend when it all started?"

"We’ve been together since we were 17 and I’ve never kept the truth from them" you shrug your shoulders.

"It must have been hard for you, but also for her, I guess."

You swallow nervously, the difficult moments through which you passed coming back in memory. Playing nervously with your fingers, you quickly shift your attention to your interlocutor.

"Very. Honestly, I’m very lucky that she stayed. Many other people would have given up on me I think."

The reporter smiles at you before moving on to another question. You knew this kind of moment would come and you were prepared. But that doesn’t mean it’s nice to talk about it anyway.

"I can see people reacting to what you said and some people find it unbelievable that your former employers have not managed to separate you" she comments looking at a screen next to her.

"Oh, actually they almost succeeded. But that’s precisely when I decided to stop everything. I could see my life without music, but I couldn’t see my life without Ona" you say timidly while smiling.

The journalist smiles back at you and winks at you before grabbing a small pile of cards next to her.

"Thank you for your sincerity. Now a quick round of questions on anything and everything, all our guests come through. Are you ready?"

"Ready" you answer, a little more relaxed.

You laugh softly when she throws a jingle, before you ask the first question.

"What is your favorite season?"

"Summer" you answer. The summer break would be fairer, considering Ona’s busy schedule.

"Your favorite food?"

"The fideua of my mother-in-law, sorry Mama I love you"

"If you had to live in a city other than Barcelona, which one would it be?"

You give yourself a few seconds to think, quickly listing the places you know in your head.

"Um… Maybe Palma de Mallorca"

An hour’s flight from your families, the little island is a place you enjoy. So why not. In addition, you need the sun to live properly. Even if you enjoy London, you don't see yourself living there permanently.

"Real Madrid or FC Barcelona?"

"Barcelona, obviously" you answer with a smile.

"The first thing you do in the morning, only the answers that can be listened by our youngest ears are allowed" jokes the journalist, making you laugh.

"Turn off my girlfriend’s alarm clock I guess"

You never understood how Ona got up and got to practice on time during your absence. She never hears the sound of her alarm clock.

"Ok and last question. Who is your celebrity crush? Ban to mention Ona's name"

You laugh again and roll your eyes.

"Okay then… The Number 22 of Fc Barcelona Femini is kind of cute" you answer with malice, mentioning Ona's number.

It makes the journalist laugh and you smile while shrugging your shoulders before answering.

"What? You saw my girlfriend? There’s no way I’d mention another name"

This is where the interview ends and you warmly thank the whole team for their kindness. After posing for a photo for their social networks, you still stay with them to talk a little bit. At this time, Ona is probably coming home, Salma having offered to bring her back for once since you were not sure to arrive on time.

When you go out, some fans are waiting for you and you take a few minutes to talk to them, sign autographs or take pictures. When you finally get to your car, you answer Ona’s message that she is home to tell her that you are coming too.

"I’m home mi Amor!"

Ona appears smiling in the entrance after a few seconds and you don't hesitate to pass your arms around her to squeeze her against you. It’s only been a few hours but it’s pretty incredible how much you missed her. You smile while feeling the comforting smell of her shampoo and smile even more when she drops kisses in the hollow of your neck.

"How was the training?" you ask her while playing with her long hair.

"Very good. Only three games left and we’re on vacation"

You smile and nod. Barcelona are already sure to win the championship and you saw their third straight victory in the Champions League a few weeks before.

"I can’t wait"

You have already planned your vacation, three weeks under the sun of Hawaii. You know how tired Ona is and you intend to do everything possible so that she can recover properly. What she doesn’t know is that you plan to propose to her there and that almost everything is already organized.

Ona turns you away from the last details you have to do by putting her lips on yours, waking the butterflies in your stomac.

"Come, I ordered food. I took sushi as I didn't know what time you would arrive"

"It’s perfect" you assure her, letting her train you in your kitchen by the hand. "Like you" you add with a smirk, lightly squeezing her bum.

Ona laughs and turns around to face you and put her arms around your neck.

"What a sweat talker and a charmer" she whispers against your lips before kissing you again, making you shiver.

"I’m so in love with you it’s disgusting" you smirk a few minutes later when you’re sitting in front of your plate.

"Oh yeah? Well it seems to me that you also appreciate the number 22 of FC Barcelona?"

Sitting in front of you, Ona has eyes that sparkle with mischief and you laugh by pointing with one of your sticks.

"You can’t blame me. She’s amazing."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine

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enkas-illusion · 4 months

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(Not) Just Another Crush - Part 1/2

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, fluff, A LOT of fluff, slow burn, kissing, language, slight make out, emotional edging of sorts (it will make sense)

Chapter Summary: Instead of pining over the mystery man at your gym from a distance, you decide to take matters into your own hands and talk to the guy. And you find out that Eren Jaeger, as it turns out, is akin to a man written by a woman.

Author's notes: Hello, here’s a meet-cute type of thing for gym bro Eren cause ~I need a big boy, gimme a big boy, gimme a big big boy~; this is a 2-part story so the chapters are super lengthy. Hope you enjoy it – feel free to like, reblog or comment! Thank you for reading!

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Crush by Cigarettes After Sex

Part 1 | Part 2

To the unassuming eyes, it may look like just two people interacting – but to the ones who knew, you and the gym trainer, it was fate intervening to give you this opportunity!

“Bruh, if you don't go talk to him now…” you hear Porco, the trainer's voice as he nudges you in your crush's direction.

As you walk up to your crush you think about how stupid this idea seems. The plan was to ask him to alternate sets with you on seated rows since the gym was way too crowded.

Honestly, the move was a bit too obvious in your opinion. But you'd set your mind to it – Today is the day you finally talk to your crush!

It had been quite some time since you'd been secretly simping over this guy so what's the harm? All the other equipment being occupied was the perfect excuse, if you had to look for one, to finally talk to him.

Since you’re usually reserved, you don’t talk to anyone at the gym. You've always been this way – doing your own thing while blasting music in your earphones and going home without ever lifting your head up.

But ever since you saw him about a month ago, your eyes had been wandering around to find him the minute you'd enter the gym, stealing glimpses whenever you could without being creepy about it.

You decided it was just some stupid crush only because the man was ridiculously hot so it'll fade away eventually. But man, were you wrong.

When he didn't show up to the gym the whole week last week, you rushed to Porco, who's always hanging around to enquire – any semblance of subtlety thrown out the window.

It wasn't like you were planning to make a move (god knows the only reason you didn't talk much at the gym was to avoid the occasional creeps that would try talking you up).... but the fact that it felt like a missed chance with the mystery guy left an itch and a curiosity to know more.

“...you know the one who's always wearing anime t-shirts? Long, black haired pretty dude?” You'd asked, hoping Porco would recognize your crush from your half-assed description.

When Porco was seemingly confused, you'd pestered further, “The one who always has his hair tied in a messy bun but still looks gorgeous? Nothing? Ummm- The emo dude with the perfect proportions!”

“OH! Are you talking about Eren? I can’t quite remember his last name but pretty sure you’re talking about Eren. Yeah… he's a regular– has been here for a year now.”

“How come I only saw him a month ago?”

“I think he recently switched timings to fit his work schedule or something. Maybe he shifted back to the mornings.”

Your heart sinks at the information… there goes your imaginary chance with Eren.

Eren.

You memorise his name anyway… hoping that maybe the gods would be generous enough to give you a chance to talk to him.

And they do. He shows up over the weekend and you secretly cheer that he's back during your schedule. However, another month passes by as you keep on trying to find the ‘perfect’ opportunity to talk to him.

Which brings you to the present moment, as you walk towards him and wait at a distance while he finishes his reps. He slows down his movements nonetheless when your eyes meet, and before you can stop yourself, you wave at him before abruptly putting your hand down.

Eren stops his movements and pulls his headphones back, his serious face breaking into a soft smile, “Hii…?”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but would you mind alternating sets with me? I’ve been waiting for about 15 minutes…” you point at the other equipments flocked by people, “Totally cool if you can’t tho-”

“Okay,” he smiles as he does five more reps before getting up and wiping the sweat off the seat.

“Thank you,” you say as you go to adjust the weights. Your jaw almost drops when you see it's set to 80kgs. You almost want to laugh as you set it back to 15kgs.

‘Dude’s a beast, don’t compare! Upper body never was your best muscle group,’ you think to yourself. You resume your music quickly and begin your set. When you’re done, you get up to wipe the seat as well as the handlebars of the machine with your towel.

You hear a snort from behind and when you turn to look at Eren and see him give you a smile that has you weak in your knees.

“What?” you ask confused.

“Wiping the handles as well? Cute,” he answers. He can’t help but find this action considerate – Most people don’t even bother wiping the patch formed by their sweaty ass cheeks.

Even if his compliment makes you blush, you try hard to not let it show. You simply move away to signal him to the seat. He bends down to readjust the weights.

“No way you’re gonna go above 80!?” you gasp as you see him push it to 100kgs.

“The last one is always till failure,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Oh... that’s crazy, I could never. I’ve got noodle arms,” you joke.

“Didn’t you get your first full pull up a few days ago?” he asks.

PAUSE. He’s noticed you before???

As if instantly reading your mind, he adds, “I saw you cheering and clapping your hands with Porco when you did it.”

“Oh that… sorry, I try not to bother anyone much usually,” you feel the heat rise to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“I know, don’t be sorry, it’s a good thing to celebrate your PR… besides, Reiner has been teasing me about not making any progress lately so I need to step up my game for sure,” he laughs to himself as he gets into position.

“Reiner?”

“That’s the huge blonde who I usually come with,” he explains. You simply nod and don’t speak further, letting him begin his set. He starts well but by the end you can tell that Eren is struggling a bit as soft cusses leave his lips, face scrunching and chest heaving as he steadies his breathing.

“Come on… 2 more.” you cheer, causing him to grunt as he finishes his set. Your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see him wipe the handles along with the seat, imitating your habit.

“Thank you.” you blush as you bend down to readjust the weights to 25kgs, “So, you’re done?”

“Yeah…” he speaks, taking small sips of water from his bottle, “I’ll see you around?”

You nod and he smiles at you as he turns to leave, but quickly turns back again, “Shit! Sorry… What's your name?”

The blush grows even further at his question as you tell him your name and ask, “What about you?”

“I’m Eren… Eren Jaeger.”

Jaeger. Eren Jaeger.

You memorise his full name and you both say your goodbyes as you get back to your workout. Eren left way before you did, leaving no room for further conversations to occur.

This interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by Porco, who rushed to your side when you were stretching, “Soooo, am I your cupid yet?”

“Don’t get your hopes up… we’ll have small talks whenever we see each other at best. Nothing’s going to happen!” you lie with a straight face, but deep down you were dying to check him out on Instagram once you were in the comfort of your home.

Your crush was oh so kind to spare you the stalking when you see your phone light up with a notification later at night.

Eren_j started following you.

You almost jump up out of your bed but steady yourself to call your best friend, Annie, before you even get to checking his account.

“Guess who just followed me on ig?” you giggle when she picks up the call.

“Huh?”

“Guess. Who. Followed. Me!” you repeat.

“Darling… I need context,” she replies dryly.

“Eren… Eren followed me… the gym crush!” you squeal, killing the suspense since you knew it was too late at night for her to indulge in your guessing game.

“Waitttttt… the supposedly hot emo guy who wears anime t-shirts?” you can hear her surprising tone, “you go girl– thought you were too much of a puss-”

“Annie!” you cut her off, “What do I do? Should I text him first or just follow back?”

“NO! Always let the guy text first,” she proclaims.

“Ugh… but okay, I hear you… wouldn’t want to seem like a simp after keeping my cool for so long,” you answer back as you put her on speaker to follow him back. You see the Requested icon turn to Following within seconds.

“ANN! He accepted already,” you almost yell.

“Welp, that was fast,” she chuckles.

“Sooo,” you begin in a sweet sing-song voice, “I’m gonna go stalk his profil-”

“Yeah, alright… have a good night babe.” you hear a dramatic mwah from her. You chuckle as you bid her good night before hanging up.

As you skim through his profile, you can’t help but feel giddy at the fact that this guy actually seems to have a personality, unlike some gym bros who make ‘muscle’ their entire personality.

When you’re going through his story highlights, you see his username pop up at the top of your screen, making your heart race faster. He had replied to your story. You rush to check on your profile what you’d posted, feeling your brain malfunction as you fear it being something embarrassing and goofy.

Phew. It was just a post-workout selfie showing off your wet, sweaty t-shirt.

You open his text.

Eren_j:

Guess u got a good workout in after I left afterall.

Feeling a bit bold, you text back.

I did… would’ve been a lot more fun with you tho.

And you almost want to throw your phone away in anticipation as you see the typing icon.

Eren_j:

Be careful what you wish for. I’ve been told im a strict/difficult gym partner.

I like me a challenge :)

Eren_j:

Is that so? Guess i gotta make it particularly hard for u :)))

I’m a tough girl Eren… i think i can take it.

You swing your feet as you roll around on the bed. If you ever showed this to Annie, she’d probably call it ‘fucking cringe but cute nonetheless’.

As the double entendre texts died down, seamless conversations kept you hooked. He was putting in equal amounts of effort to keep the conversation alive. You don’t exactly remember how you fell asleep but you remember talking to him for about two hours or so.

And that’s how you became gym buddies. As another month had passed by, you got to know him as a friend. You want to cuss yourself since your crush has only increased tenfold ever since you’ve gotten to know him personally.

You realise just how deceiving his looks are – on the outside, he’s this big, intimidating dude but on the inside he’s got the golden retriever energy. Eren is the perfect mix of what you’d call a serious yet laid back/chill guy.

He’s thoughtful, remembers tiny details about you, sends you songs whenever he finds one he thinks you’d like and memes that remind him of you and is a self proclaimed hopeless romantic. You could go on and on about Eren and it would still not be enough – needless to say, you were absolutely gone for him, the kind that they describe as being totally head-over-heels in movies.

And it doesn’t help that a few nights ago, when the gym was basically empty, you two almost kissed. Standing in the corridor, as you were saying your goodbyes, it felt as if he was about to lean in to kiss you before being interrupted by someone walking out the changing room, making you flee the scene, akin to a criminal being caught.

But then again, you weren’t really sure if it was just your delusion overriding the tiny bit of logic left in your romance-ridden brain.

~~~

“Eren… I can’t– fuck,” you groan as your hands shake.

“You got it, come on. You’re doing so good. One more then we’re done. Promise,” you hear his voice as his grip on your waist tightens.

Eren supports your bodyweight as he pushes you up so that your chin is touching the pull up bar. The first few were bearable but by your 7th pull up, it’s more like he’s working his biceps rather than you working your back.

With shaky hands, you try to control your movement as you come down but your arms almost give in, causing you to slightly stumble as you drop to your feet with a light thud. His grip on your waist tightens to steady you before letting go gently.

Ever since the almost kiss, you’d been extra aware of his touches. So even his guiding touches, without any ulterior motives, have been making you feel some type of way.

You slouch slightly as you sit against a wall in the corner, sipping your water. You close your eyes to calm your breathing as you feel your arms burn. You groan as you realise you’re going to be super sore tomorrow morning.

“Good job bub,” he snickers. You open your eyes to see him bend down in front of you to pat your head lightly.

“I give up… you win, you are a ruthless gym partner.”

“Aww… I'm flattered,” he jokes further.

You roll your eyes as you swat his hand away from your head.

“Let me make it up to you, I’ll give you a massage. How about that?” he adds jokingly, though you know he wouldn’t mind actually giving you one if you ask him nicely.

“You better! I’m not going to be able to make dinner tonight!” you reply as you hold your arms out limply in front of him.

“Then don’t. Let me make you dinner,” he says, taking the opportunity.

“For real?” you ask, taken by surprise by his sudden yet tempting offer.

“Yeah? Got any plans for tonight?”

“No… let’s do it. I'm in,” you agree before demanding, “but, I want that massage as well.”

“Done… my massages can put those Thai spas to shame,” he boasts.

“Are you overselling yourself Jaeger?” you tease him, “it’s often disappointing when reality doesn’t match the hype.”

“You’re gonna eat your words later… I’ve been told I’ve got magic fingers.” he retorts, his cocky smirk wider than ever. You roll your eyes as you grab your things before getting up.

“That’s for me to decide,” you poke him further, “... the food better be worth the 7 pull ups.”

Surprisingly he doesn’t have a witty comeback in his arsenal this time. You simply hear a low chuckle escape his lips and it’s somehow more mischievous than whatever clever words he would’ve spoken otherwise.

You’d never been to his place before, meaning it took a few minutes for your brain to register that you were going to Eren fucking Jaeger’s place! In the changing room, you freshen up as much as you can to try to not look like a sweaty mess. You change into a pair of jeans and a jumper, slinging the gym bag over your shoulder before giving yourself one last look in the mirror and walking out to meet him near the entrance of the gym.

As you walk out, you see him waiting for you on his bike, securing the helmet on his head. He’s changed into a pair of loose jeans and a denim jacket over his t-shirt. Even when you’d seen his ride for the first time, Eren being a biker never surprised you since it felt very on-brand for him.

Imagine him picking you up for a date, waiting on his bike with a bouquet of tulips in hand. Ehe.

You snap out of your daydream when he holds out the other helmet in front of you. You lean your head down when he motions you to do so and he puts the helmet on you.

“Where did the second one come from?” you wonder out loud.

“I had planned to take you home tonight from the start,” he winks.

You snort as you slide the visor of his helmet down his face. You hear his laugh as he adds, “Porco let me borrow his, apparently he keeps an extra one in the cabin for god-knows-what.”

“I guess I really might need to call Porco a cupi–” you freeze midway.

“Hmm?”

“A good trainer.” you correct yourself, and you’re pretty sure it was far from convincing but Eren decides not to tease you about it. You’re 99.99% certain he heard it – maybe he just wants to save you the embarrassment, you think to yourself.

You hop onto his bike and hesitantly rest your hands on his sides not wanting to seem awkward by straight up hugging him from behind. However, he straightens his back as he grabs the top of your hands, pulling them to the front to wrap them around his waist. You smile to yourself as you rest your cheek on his back and hug your arms around him steadily.

The ride back to his place is barely 10 minutes long. You miss being so close to him as soon as you get off the bike in the parking lot. He parks and guides you to his apartment holding your wrist gently. It’s not a complete holding-hands-fingers-intertwined but that has never stopped you from overanalyzing things, has it?

You take in your surroundings when you enter the apartment and it doesn’t stand out much. It looks like any normal dude’s apartment, except it’s cleaner – probably more than your own.

“Wow, your apartment is clean,” you comment.

“You’re hurting me babe. Did you expect me to live like a savage just cause I’m a guy.”

“No, no… I’m sorry it came out wrong–” you try to clarify but he interrupts.

“Kidding! I know it’s cleaner than usual. I live with Reiner and Levi… while Reiner and I aren’t really shabby, Levi really can’t tolerate a dirty house,” Eren explains.

“Oh, that must be exhausting, no?”

“Not really. That was Levi’s one condition when Reiner and I went to him in search of a third flatmate so we agreed.”

“Ah, makes sense. Are they here?” you ask, curiously as you hang your bag near the coat rack and take off your shoes. Eren returns to your side, having locked the door and keeping all his things in their designated places.

“Nah. Reiner’s out of town on a work trip for like two weeks and Levi’s gone home for a few days as well,” he answers as he shrugs off his jacket, folding it before placing it on the side table.

You can’t help but find it cute that he keeps the place neat so diligently, being considerate of others… but then again, you’ve been finding all of Eren’s actions cute lately.

“... so it’s just us here tonight.” he says flirtatiously.

“Good thing, I’d hate to share food now… I’m hungry,” you say, dodging it. Usually, you’d flirt back but the two of you being alone at his place suddenly feels so real – anything could happen. You chicken out – there may be a possibility that he likes you back but there could ALSO be a possibility of him only liking you as a friend.

“‘Ight, what would you like to have?” he asks as you follow him to the kitchen.

“Surprise me… nothing too fancy though.”

“Phew… I was actually hoping for that answer since I’d prepared the dough for burger patties,” he admits sheepishly as he washes his hand and puts on the apron. You lean against the opposite counter to let him cook in peace without any hindrance.

“Do you want my hel-”

“OH– just a min,” he interrupts you as he hurries out of the kitchen. You blink in confusion as you follow him out to check on the guy and find him connecting his phone to the speaker.

A soft song plays through the speaker loudly and he walks towards you as if just now he’s truly ready to take on kitchen duties.

“It’s my cooking playlist,” he smiles.

He’s so fucking cute. For fucks sake!

When you ask him again if he wants your help, he declines saying ‘the only thing you need to do tonight is compliment my amazing skills.’

So you watch him work while chatting away about random things. It doesn’t take long for him to prepare the patties and heat the buns, adding copious amounts of veggies with melting cheese on top of it. He presents it with a ‘Tada!’ and you clap at his presentation with a dramatic ‘Bravo!’

When you taste the first bite, you almost moan at how delicious it is. The burger is huge, juicy and has the right balance of crispy and soft with spicy, sweet and sour. You close your eyes, delving into the heavenly taste.

You open your eyes to see Eren devouring his own burger, unfazed by the masterpiece that he’d created as if it were something ordinary to him.

“Eren!” you squeal, “if this is what I get to eat after, I might just do a hundred pull-ups from tomorrow.”

Eren chuckles at this, licking the cheesy sauce that had trickled down his fingers, “Told ya I only brag when I know I’m good.”

“I’m serious! This is too good,” you add, taking another bite.

“I know… thank you,” Eren smiles, clearly amused at the way you’re enjoying his burger. And in that moment, a thought crosses his mind – he’d make you dinner every night if it meant that he got to be the reason for you to feel such bliss.

Neither of you talk much till you finish eating. Your reason being wanting to relish in the taste with full concentration and Eren’s reason being not wanting to disturb your peace.

When you’re done, you clear out the plates and Eren cleans the table. As you’re walking out of the kitchen, you hear a familiar tune playing when he resumes the songs on his playlist.

You recognize it – Dope Lovers by DPR IAN.

“I love this song!” you exclaim as you walk towards him. The tension you’d felt at the beginner has almost dissipated and feeling a little courageous, you extend an arm out to him to dance.

He tosses his phone on the sofa before taking your hand to pull you closer to him. You sway your body to the rhythm as you mumble some of the lyrics.

“Is it the art or the artist that you like?” he teases.

“Well, you can’t deny that he isn’t hot… There’s something about DPR Ian, he’s soooo–” you pause to think about the right word to use before concluding, “– babygurl.”

“Babygurl?” Eren laughs as he rests his arms at your hips, “What does that even mean?”

“It’s like daddy – it’s a state of mind,” you joke but then you purse your lips as you really think about how to explain this endearing slang to Eren, “Babygurl is when a man is so comfortable in his masculinity that he isn't scared of embracing his soft side and being gentle. A man who knows that kindness is strength. Someone who looks so tough but is far from toxic. A man who’s a gentleman in the true sense of the word… does that make sense?”

“Hmm, I think so…” he nods, “Who else is babygurl?”

“You are, Eren,” you smile and lift your hands up to move to his neck but stop when you feel a weird stiffness in your shoulders, “ow, it’s sore already.”

“Okay, let’s give you that massage!” he declares with a booming laugh, taking your hands in his and guiding you to the sofa. He sits you down with your back facing him and gently taps near your lower back to signal you to sit up straight.

“Relax your shoulders,” you hear him speak softly as his hands move up to your shoulders but he pauses his movement. He lifts his hands to comb his fingers through your locks and you jerk slightly when his fingers touch your neck in the process.

“Eren, what are you doin-” you giggle as you turn your head to look at him.

“Shh, stay still,” he murmurs, knitting his eyebrows in concentration. His hair falls down, framing his face as he takes out his hair tie. You turn to look to the front as he runs his fingers to gather all your loose strands together once again. You feel him gently pull at your hair as he secures it with his hair tie.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for mine. It’s in my bag,” you chuckle.

“Too lazy,” he replies as his hands begin to massage your back gently. He alternates between pressing his thumbs down the length of your spine and pressing his palms flat to cover the entire area, sliding his hands down in slow pressured movements. You slouch in his touch and his hands move up to your shoulder blades to massage the area in circular motion.

“Mmm, Eren– that feels so good,” you breathe out, skin feeling like wax that could melt into his hands at any moment. You’re certain you’d fall asleep in a few minutes if he continued doing this any longer.

Eren changes his movement to bring up his fingertips to your nape, dragging them gently over the expanse of your neck, his fingers dancing over your skin as he dips them under the collar to trace your skin. This causes you to let out an involuntary whimper and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when his touch comes to a halt.

You’re pretty sure he can see the goosebumps pricking on the surface of your skin and you mumble a soft ‘sorry’ as you create some space between to turn around to face him completely. Your eyes meet and you’re smiling at him awkwardly but he has a poker face.

He gets up abruptly, breaking eye contact as he hurries towards the kitchen. You look at him, confused and are about to ask him why he was acting that way but he speaks up before you do.

“Want anything to drink? Something sweet for dessert?”

“Umm… okay,” you mutter, still confused.

“Anything specific?” he enquires.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of hot coffee,” you request, smiling as you abandon your previous thought.

“Coffee? At night?” he counters, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s my talent. I can sleep like a baby no matter how strong the coffee is.”

“Hmmm… Would you like to try the Eren Jaeger Special where I mix loads of chocolate with coffee and cream?”

“So, basically a mocha?” you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.

“Yes or no?” he says with narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” you laugh and he rolls his eyes as he turns around, disappearing into the kitchen.

You’re scrolling through your phone when you hear his approaching footsteps after a few minutes. You close your phone as you turn your head to look up at him as he walks towards you with two steaming mugs in hand.

As soon as he places one of the mugs on the table, you pick it up instantly. He sits down in front of you to clink your mugs together with a ‘cheers’. You both take tiny sips together and your eyes widen at the frothy sweet and bitter taste.

“If you get me addicted, you’ll have to be the one to meet the demands too, just sayinggg…'' you blow over the surface and take another sip.

“Yes ma’am, I’d gladly oblige to all of your demands,” he winks before taking another sip from his mug. You try to hide your growing smile with your mug. For the rest of the conversation you try to change the subject from the two of you to literally anything else you can find – and Eren being the great conversationalist that he is, is talking about each topic just as enthusiastically.

“Aww man, the last of the coffee’s gone cold.” you swirl the liquid in the mug.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Eren fake yells, already having finished his. You raise one fist up as you gulp the last of your coffee down in one go and slam the mug down on the cushion. Feeling the frothy stache over your upper lip, you lick it off, laughing along with him.

“There’s still some left…” Eren mumbles, pointing at his own mouth to show the spot. Before you have a chance to wipe it, he swipes his thumb over the corner of your lips before bringing it to his lips to lick it off. It’s such a simple act yet it has the butterflies in your stomach going rampant.

“Hey, that was mine,” you try to feign offence but it comes out more desperate than you’d intended as you stare at his lips a little too longer than friends are supposed to.

He cups your face with both his hands as his gaze deepens before his eyes move down to your lips. Your breath hitches as you see him instinctively wet his lips. He leans in to move closer till your faces are just inches away.

“Then take it back agai–” he’s rudely interrupted by the sound of the front door opening with a loud thud. You pull back abruptly to create some space between the two of you. You see Eren’s jaw clench as he closes his eyes briefly in an attempt to keep his cool.

“REINER MY BROTHER– oh,” you see a man enter the living room with a large backpack.

“Jean.” Eren says, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“Eren. Where’s Reiner?” Jean asks as he looks at the two of you.

“Did he not tell you that he wasn’t gonna be at home for a while?” Eren answers, and you’re almost surprised at how cold his tone is.

“Yes? But I figured he'd leave after seeing me?” Jean retorts.

“And why would he do that?” Eren asks just as coldly.

“Since he said I was welcome to stay in his room while I was in town? Even told me to use the key y'all keep in the space behind the nameplate,” the man explains.

“Great! It's amazing how my roommate fails to tell me about shit like this.” Eren mutters but smiles at the guy nonetheless, “His room is unlocked… feel free to make yourself at home I guess.”

“Thanks. Have fun, I guess,” Jean half salutes Eren, giving you both a smug smile, feeling the satisfaction of having cockblocked his friendly foe. He leaves you two alone, making his way to Reiner’s room. Once you watch him disappear, you turn to check your phone for the time.

This time it was real! You’re not delusional, he really was about to kiss you!

You silence the voice in your head. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that Eren seemingly likes you but he can’t seem to make a move or at least declare his feelings with certainty. And there’s no way in hell you’d confess first since it’s pretty evident you like him, you’ve dropped enough hints over a month’s time – you want him to be the one to do it first.

“It’s late, I better get going,” you make an excuse as you stand up, gathering your things as you prepare to leave. Your cheeks feel hot and you give him a small smile, feeling a bit too flustered to carry on a conversation at this point.

“Let me drop you home,” he offers quickly as he stands up with you.

“My apartment isn’t far from here.”

“It's late,” he adds. You consider it and nod your head. He smiles as he grabs his keys along with his own two helmets this time.

The ride home is quick so neither of you bother with small talk. Once he parks in the parking lot of your apartment building, he tilts his bike to make it easier for you to get off. He gets off the bike, gently taking your helmet off and placing it on the bike. As you fix your hair, he takes his helmet off as well, placing it next to yours.

You slightly shuffle on your feet as you prepare to say your goodbyes. When he turns back to look at you, you smile earnestly.

“I had a fun time tonight… despite you being a meanie at the gym.” you try to lighten up the tension.

“Only for you bub,” he jokes back, making finger-hearts at you.

“Good night, Eren.” you laugh as you wave at him and turn to walk away. You barely take a step when you hear him say your name.

“Hmm?” you turn around to look at him again. He doesn’t speak but takes one long stride to close the distance between you, wrapping his hands around your waist. As if on instinct, you drop your bag to the ground and place your hands on his shoulders, looking up at him as your breath hitches in your throat again.

He brings his left hand up to your cheek, dipping his head down to kiss your lips without any further delay. His wider frame envelopes yours as the hand on your cheek snakes back to hold your head in place as he deepens the kiss. You wrap both your hands around his neck, standing on your tippy toes for better access while his lower hand wraps around your waist even tighter.

When your lips finally part to catch your breaths, he looks you in the eye, smiling contently. Your legs feel giddy from the high you’re experiencing and you’re glad he’s still holding you flush against his body.

“I’d been dying to do that ever since I laid my eyes on you… figured it’d be pretty stupid of me to let the opportunity go twice in a row,” he confesses, dipping his head down again to kiss you once again.

You’re surprised, your brain reeling at the information but you close your eyes nonetheless, getting lost in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

“Yeah, it would’ve been pretty stupid,” you smile when he pulls back. You pull him down by the collar to give him a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for not wasting any more chances.”

You run your hands through his loose strands and he hums as he closes his eyes. You pull him down for another deep kiss. His tongue invades your mouth and he squeezes your ass as he pulls your body further closer to his. When you feel his boner from under his clothing, it causes you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands move down his sides, lowering further but he stops your movement with his own hands holding your wrists firmly. He pulls away from the kiss, eyes still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. His hot breath fans your face as he speaks, “It’s taking everything in me to not come up to your place to fuck you right now.”

“Then do it,” you mewl desperately as you kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss but breaks it once again to speak, “No, I wanna do this right. Let me take you out on a real date first… tomorrow evening?”

You feel your cheeks burn up as you bite your bottom lip to contain the grin threatening to give away your excitement as you nod. You stand on your toes once again to give him a quick peck. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, enveloping you into a comforting hug.

“Take this with you,” he mumbles as he goes to grab a helmet. He leans down to grab your bag from the floor, handing both the items to you.

“Good night Eren,” you smile. He cups your face with both his hands and leans down to kiss you again – it’s brief but passionate.

“Good night baby,” he smiles as he lightly smacks your ass, earning a yelp from you. Before you can scold him, he gives you a hasty kiss before making his way to his bike. You walk to the elevator and press the button, turning to look back at him as he secures his helmet.

He starts the bike but waits till he sees you enter the elevator. Just as the door closes, you catch a glimpse of him leaving. You lean back against the railing, covering your face with your hands, not really believing what had just occurred.

The man you’d been pining over for months had been crushing over you all along too.

Eren Jaeger never was just another unrequited crush – and come tomorrow, he’s going to mean a lot more than just a friend.

#erensbirdie #aot x reader #aot x you #aot #aot smut #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger

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yournowheregirl · 1 year

Text

Eddie used to be a pretty fearless person.

He ran red lights almost on the daily, provoked his bullies while his bruises from the last run-in were still healing and agreed to shady drug deals in the dead of night.

Having a kid changed all that.

As soon as Hayley was born, Eddie found himself riddled with anxiety every waking moment of the day. Scared to drop her, scared she’d get sick, scared she’d break something, scared that someone’d take her from the playground if he looked away for just one second. Even Wayne had to pry Hayley out of his arms when he had to go back to work and assure him that everything would be fine.

Lucky for Eddie, none of those fears ever came true. Until today.

They’d just gone through Hayley’s night time routine - reading a chapter of that Narnia book Jeff had gotten her, singing her good night song together, kissing her forehead and sharing I love you's - and Eddie’s about to close her bedroom door when Hayley’s squeaky voice suddenly speaks up.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, sweet pea?”

“I wanna join the soccer team.”

And just like that, with six little words, one of Eddie’s personal horrors suddenly becomes a reality.

His daughter is a jock.

“Uh, let’s… let’s talk about that in the morning, okay? Sleep tight!” Eddie says quickly and closes the door behind him.

As soon as he knows Hayley’s fast asleep, he dials one of the two numbers he knows by heart.

“Hello?"

“What have you done to my daughter?” Eddie seethes.

“Well, hi to you too, Eddie.” Chrissy says on the other side of the line. “What’s up?”

“Hayley wants to join the soccer team and it’s all your fault, Chris!” Eddie is pacing up and down his living room now, trying to calm himself down without reaching for his cigarettes - he quit when Hayley was born and this is not going to be the reason that’ll end his seven year streak.

“And how is that my fault, exactly?”

“You- you have poisoned her mind with your jock ways! Hayley isn’t a jock! She likes dragons and castles and fantasy worlds, as is her right as my daughter. I mean, her middle name is Arwen for fuck’s sake, being a nerd is in her goddamn DNA!”

“Okay, Eddie, breathe.” Chrissy says calmly. “Hayley’s always been a curious kid, it’s in her nature. She always wants to try new things and then move on to the next big thing. Remember how she wanted to become a drummer after she saw Gareth play? And then she abandoned the drum kit after two weeks?”

“Right.”

“Maybe this is just another phase, maybe she overheard some classmates and wanted to join in on the fun.” Chrissy says. “Just take her to try outs and see what happens, there’s always a chance she doesn’t like it.”

Eddie lets himself fall onto the couch. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in defeat. “Fuck, you’re right.”

“I’m always right, Eddie, how have you not learned this yet?” Chrissy giggles.

Which is how Eddie finds himself waking up at the crack of dawn that next Saturday. Well, he was supposed to sleep in for another thirty minutes or so but Hayley was so excited about try-outs that her high pitched screams and jumping on his bed woke him up regardless.

Hayley’s excitement carries on during breakfast and she barely keeps still as Eddie braids her hair. She’s even dead serious about the color of her hair ties, saying that they have to match the colors of the soccer team (aptly named the Purple Cobras, so obviously the hair ties have to be purple as well).

And any other morning, Eddie is trailing behind his daughter, making sure she hurries up so they’ll get to school on time, but not today. Now, she’s already got her coat on and bouncing from one foot to another in the hallway and calling him out instead.

“Dad, come on!” Hayley whines. “We’re gonna be late.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Eddie huffs as he puts on his trusty leather jacket - if he’s gonna freeze his balls off by being outside all morning, at least he’s gonna do it in style. He can’t help but laugh at Hayley, who’s now jumping up and down from excitement. “Geez, you better save some energy for the try-outs.”

“Can we go now?” Hayley sighs and scrunches her nose in annoyance and yeah, she really is his kid.

“One ride in the Munson Mobile, coming right up!”

Hayley doesn’t shut up about the intricacies of soccer the entire drive to the local soccer club, apparently Chrissy (the traitor) had helped her read up on the rules and now obviously Eddie had to know all about them as well.

Half of what Hayley’s saying flies over his head, partly because he’s never really cared for sports but mostly because he can feel his anxiety growing with every passing second.

What if Hayley gets injured? What if some tackles her and she breaks her leg? Or worse?

What if she is an amazing player and she needs all these fancy soccer supplies and training clinics and Eddie’s forced to get another job to just to keep them afloat?

What if she’s weak at sports, just like Eddie was while growing up, and all the other kids will make fun of her and laugh behind her back?

What if-

“Dad, look, we’re here!”

The van barely comes to a screeching halt and Hayley’s already halfway out the door when Eddie grabs her by the collar and pulls her back into her seat. This obviously annoys Hayley, judging by the furious look on her face. If Eddie was a weaker man, he would’ve cowered in fear, but he invented that look so he barely feels a thing.

“Sweet pea, listen to your dear old dad for a minute, alright?” Eddie says softly. “I know you really wanna be on the soccer team but it’s still okay if you don’t make the team, you know that right? I won’t love you any less if you don’t make it or you don’t like it, just try your best, okay?”

Hayley’s face turns serious, as if the words are slowly sinking in. “Okay.”

“Pinky promise?” Eddie asks, holding out his pinky finger. Within a split second, Hayley’s tiny finger links around him and she sends him a toothy smile.

“Pinky promise.”

“C’mon, let’s kick these kids’ butts!”

Hayley giggles. “You’re supposed to kick the ball, dad.”

“Oh, right, silly me.” Eddie grins and follows his daughter outside.

But right as his anxiety has died down, it comes flooding right back as soon as Eddie lays eyes on the soccer field. There are so many kids. So many balls being kicked at full speed, with no time to duck. So many sneering soccer moms who look at him like he’s the devil incarnate. So many dangers just waiting around the corner and Eddie just want to turn on his heel and run. Hayley’s inevitable temper tantrum be damned, at least she’ll be in one piece and-

“Hayley Arwen Munson?”

Both Eddie and Hayley whip their heads around at the same time, only to be greeted by one of the coaches and shit- Eddie’s suddenly very interested in soccer.

With a chiseled jaw, soft hazel eyes and broad shoulders, the coach looks like he belongs in a Calvin Klein ad rather than a little league soccer field. He’s wearing a wind breaker, white knee socks and bright purple shorts (that cling deliciously tight around his thighs), which shouldn’t work on him but it does and Eddie just can’t look away.

Hayley (thankfully) doesn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil and instead happily waves at Hot Coach. “Over here!”

The coach writes something on the clipboard and walks towards them, crouching down in front of Hayley. “Hi Hayley, I’m coach Steve, nice to meet you. You here to try out for the soccer team?”

“Yes!” Hayley replies brightly.

“Well good, you can say hi to coach Robin and the other girls and I’ll be there in a sec, okay?”

“Okay.” Hayley nods and turns to Eddie. “Bye dad!”

“Hold up, hold up, hold up.” Eddie says quickly, once again grabbing the back of her t-shirt to keep her from running off. He kneels down in front of her, trying to look her in the eye. “Be careful, okay, baby? And if you don’t like it you can just yell and I come and get you, no questions asked. And if your laces get loose, you can yell too, literally if anything goes wrong you can-”

“Dad…” Hayley interrupts him and puts her tiny hand onto his shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Eddie laughs and ducks his head. God, this is like kindergarten all over again, when Hayley just skipped to Miss Coleman without a care in the world and Eddie was sobbing into Wayne’s shoulder as he watched her go.

“I know it will be, sweet pea.” Eddie says softly, pressing a kiss to Hayley’s forehead. She takes that as her cue to go, skipping across the field towards the gaggle of girls that surround another one of the coaches.

Eddie feels his heart burst as he sees Hayley smiling as she greets the other girls, she seems to fit right in. He sighs deeply and stands up, trying to keep his eyes on Hayley, when a voice suddenly speaks up.

“Arwen.”

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelps because shit, he totally forgot that Coach Steve was still there as well. “Yeah, she’s named Arwen. What about it?"

Eddie wants to eat his foot as soon as he utters the words. He’s always been defensive when it comes to Hayley, being a single dad who doesn’t look like your standard suburban dad next door will do that to you. But to do it in front of a cute guy like that? It makes him want to kick himself. Repeatedly.

But much to his surprise, Steve doesn’t seem to mind all that much. In fact, there’s an amused smile playing on his lips. “That’s from Lord of the Rings, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Eddie replies dumbly. He feels his walls lowering down - holy shit, this Steve guy is hot and he knows Lord of the Rings? If they weren’t around a bunch of kids right now, Eddie would’ve dropped to his knees already.

“Cute.” Steve chuckles and are Eddie’s eyes deceiving him or is Steve actually checking him out? Before he gets a chance to wrap his head around all that, Steve gestures back to the field. “Well, I gotta jet. Soccer waits for no one. See you around, Mr. Munson.”

“Ew, no. Mr. Munson is my dad.” Eddie winces, remembering all the times his neighbor growing up came by to help Wayne out and refuses to call him by his first name. “I’m Eddie.”

“Well then,” Steve smirks as he walks backwards. “see you around, Eddie.”

As Eddie tries to look like a normal human being instead of a total creep - which proves to be terribly difficult when Steve turns around and puts his ass on fully display in those damn shorts - he slowly begins to realize one thing.

Maybe Hayley’s decision to join the soccer team is the best idea she had in a long time.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #dad!eddie munson #throws this at you and runs away #LOOK I JUST THINK EDDIE WOULD BE A VERY CODDLING DAD OKAY #like that one post said #he went to wayne munson's school for coddling children #anyway.... here you go

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hyunjinspark · 7 months

Text

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 17

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

word count: 31K

warnings: cursing, drinking, heavy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, kissing, mature language, making out, jealousy, references to injuries, unrequited love, fighting, arguments and confrontations, hyunjin is mean, mentions of weed, post-breakup behaviour, passing mention of threats, a guy makes yn feel physically uncomfortable

a/n: most of this chapter contains heavy angst, yn is thinking about hyunjin 90% of the time, and it's a very different pacing from usual, but i enjoyed writing this a lot :) i hope you love it too! please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

The romantic movies you’d watched growing up always skipped over the hard parts.

The break-ups in them were just a short montage set to the soundtrack of a sad song. The main female character would have given up all hope, drowning her feelings in ice-cream and wine, and just when she hit rock bottom... somehow the boy would find a way back to her. The audience would cheer even though it was so predictable, and the credits would roll. All the sadness would be overshadowed by a firework-worthy reunion kiss, and a stupid Happily Ever After.

If only your life right now could pass by like a montage. If only you could hit fast-forward, and skip to the day you feel better.

You were never much into Greek mythology, but you had read Percy Jackson in middle school, and the myth of Sisyphus always stuck to you. He was condemned to roll a rock up a mountain for eternity, but the rock would roll back down to the bottom every single time. It was a cruel punishment because he could never achieve his goal.

Forgetting Hyunjin was a Sisyphean task. It was futile, in every way. On most days, it almost felt impossible. You could always try, and push yourself really hard, but he would always be there at the bottom of the canyon. Homereminded you of him, of all the good times there — bumping into him at Aera’s, plunging into freezing water with him at the creek, kissing him in the meadow of the fireflies, sloppy and wet but enchanting. And so did this city. The lights of the skyscrapers, the culture, the fashion, they all screamed his name. It didn’t help that his pictures were plastered all over every big billboard, every bus stop shelter, each subway station. Perhaps to forget him, you’d have to run away to a remote cabin, somewhere in Europe, where you could paint your life away and never look back. Yet wouldn’t that be useless too? Everything beautiful in your life would be forever linked to him.

“What are you thinking of so deeply, Y/N?” A voice pulled you out of your sad tangent. You’d been sketching in your notebook, mindlessly doodling, drawing circles and squares.

Jeonghan was slumped in the chair opposite yours, his own sketchbook balanced on his knees, but he hadn’t drawn for an hour now. He was too busy listening to a podcast on those big headphones he never let go of. Minnie was supposed to join you today, but she was running late from a date with Jamie, so for now it was just you and him. There was so much noise around you, a constant buzz and chatter of people in the coffee shop, so you raised your voice to be heard, “I’m thinking of…how romance movies are all bullshit”

His eyebrows shot up, and he sat up straighter, clearly not expecting that. You suppose it was a bit random, “I’m sorry?”

Now that you’d brought it up, you had to explain it, and you struggled to find the words, “They’re all such cookie-cutter depictions of romance. The same formula every time. You don’t think so?”

His eyes narrowed, suspiciously, “Well, who broke your heart?”

You shut your sketchbook with a snap, “Nobody. I’m just talking”

“Clearly you think I’m stupider than I actually am” He pulled a hand up, and started counting on his fingers, “You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, you’re only painting of blue and depressing things, you…didn’t even laugh at a single joke of mine in class today”

“Maybe because they aren’t funny”

“And you now think romantic movies suck. That’s the telltale signs of a breakup”

“I’ve always thought they suck… That doesn’t mean anything”

“Okay” He laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “How about the fact that you all but ran out of Pegasus and went white as a ghost when you saw that guy in the elevator?”

You stilled, staring at him. It’s been days since that incident, but he’s never brought it up till now. You had never given him a chance to. You realised you’re an expert in deflecting when it comes to matters of Hyunijn. You pulled at the spiral binding of your notebook, “He was just an old friend”

“You reacted way more than someone would…to an old friend. I’m not going to judge you, you know that? I’m from fucking LA. If I started judging people, I’m afraid I’d never stop”

You sighed, looking down at the coffee table, “He’s just someone I wasn’t expecting to see. It brought up old memories, shit I’d like to forget now. Let’s…talk about something else, please”

He released a breath, looking around, “Fine. I think I’m gonna get another cup of coffee. You want one?”

“No, I’m good. Coffee keeps me up at night”

Jeonghan stood up, lanky frame hovering over you, lips pressed into a thin line, “Don’t blame coffee for that”

With that, he walked off to the counter, and you stared at the empty chair. You’re trying hard not to think of that evening, after you walked out of the storage closet, out of the Pegasus building and straight home. You had felt a new kind of pathetic… and to make it worse, your apartment keys had refused to cooperate. It’s because you were shaking the whole way home. You’d dropped them on the landing multiple times as you made your way upstairs, the shrill sound the only thing snapping you out of your daze. Even your hands had shook as you tried to get into your apartment.

You’d crawled into your mattress, and you’d cried yourself to sleep. Your pillow had muffled the sounds and it wasn’t even satisfyin. Your tears felt empty and forced. The numbness…was real. What were you even crying for? Hyunjin had made it crystal clear since day one that nothing could happen between you, so you shouldn’t have expected him to suddenly change his mind.

“I got you a cupcake” Jeonghan sat back down, a red velvet cupcake in his hand, a Cafe Mocha in the other.

It just hurt that he’d given up on the two of you, before you even had a chance to try. It was…a horrible memory, and your chest hurt at it. “I don’t want it, sorry”

“Suit yourself” He shrugged, peeling back the paper wrapping so he could take a bite out of it. The white frosting smeared on his nose, and he smiled at you. He’s a good friend, but you’ve been nothing but miserable the past few weeks. It’s bad for you because this is not the time for drama. You’re working on real stuff now in art class. You’re past introductions, and over the bunny hill. You have an actual assignment, and that’s the reason you’re here in this cafe, trying to brainstorm ideas for it. This artwork matters more to you than anything else lately, because it feels like a last plea for happiness. If your professor actually likes it, then you won’t feel so useless anymore. Time lately feels like it’s slipping through your fingers, wasting away, precious days blurring together into sadness and nostalgia. You used to count the seconds until you could live this life, but what you’re feeling right now…that’s not living.

How can you be creative right now, when all you hold inside you is bitterness? All this time, you’d held on to some minuscule hope, that one day things between you and Hyunjin would be all right. That maybe one day he would give into what he felt, and you could actually be together. It was almost …like a given. How could he kiss you like that…and not want it for the rest of his life? A part of you had imagined it all — the future you could have had with him, the relationship you could lead with somebody who knew every bit of you.

You’d been surrounded by good people your whole life, but the impact Hyunjin left on you was incomparable. His thoughts, the way his brain worked things out, the kindness with which he approached life — you couldn’t hope to find that in anybody now. It was special to only him, and more than anything, you couldn’t forget that. You couldn’t forget the beautiful things he kept hidden in his mind, in his heart. The first few weeks you’d known him…it became obvious what he would mean to you. In the silliest of ways, he even finished your sentences…How could somebody be so perfectly built for you, but not be meant for you at all?

Maybe the romance books were to blame for making you believe there was someone perfect for you at all. Soulmates were an urban legend, and a red string of fate didn’t exist. But then why did everything pull you together all this while? It couldn’t have been…for nothing.

Were you the one to blame for imagining an actual future with him? You’d never even had the honor of calling him your boyfriend, how could you hope for anything more?

The logical step was…to move on. So that’s why you’re here, painting in the new coffee shop, and hoping it will help. Jeonghan helps, kind of. He’s funny, and he’s got a large personality and an even bigger sense of humour, and you wonder how he fits it all in his lanky frame. He’s a perfect student and on top of that, he’s helpful. He’s always sharing his supplies with you in class, and he’s genuinely so amusing, if not mildly annoying sometimes, but with Minho and Felix you’d gotten used to it. He was humming now to a song you don’t recognise, his music taste is very different from yours, and he suddenly asked, “Why do you think I moved back to Korea?”

Your brows furrowed, and you randomly guessed, “I don’t know…An American girl broke your heart?”

“Bingo” He bit into the cupcake, crumbs falling onto his button-up, and on his ripped jeans, “She kissed my friend at a party. Right in front of me”

You’re surprised to hear that, and even more so that he’s openly telling you. Maybe talking freely about the past is moving on. So you told him, in solidarity, “My best friend dated the boy I like”

His eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward, pausing the music on his phone to give you his whole attention, “Did she know you liked him?”

“No…not really”

“Then you can’t really blame her I guess”

“I don’t”

“So you blame yourself? For liking him?”

“Nothing I do could have made me stop”

He tilt his head, “Is that so?”

You chewed on your lip, “I liked him for a long time before my friend met him”

“Then why didn’t you ask him out?”

“I didn’t know his name at the…time”

His eyes widened, a smile forming, “Oh…now I’m really, really curious”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past now”

Jeonghan sighed, “You know, this is a record”

You reached for his cupcake, and bit into it, it was too sweet and you hated red velvet but you wanted to feel something, “What do you mean?”

“That’s like the most I’ve got out of you, Y/N. You’re a pretty closed book”

You’ve never been told that before. You're usually always oversharing. You have to try to be better. Maybe divulging the details of your life isn’t such a weakness or vulnerability. It’s hard to explain to anybody about what you’re going through, the only person who’ll understand is Kairi, but you haven’t talked to her since that time in the park, when she brought Hyunjin up and you came crumbling down like a house of cards.

You feel so weak lately, like a balloon about to be popped, stretched to your limits. You can’t accommodate any sadness in you anymore, and any mere mention or thought of Hyunjin breaks you down. You’re trying your best though. Yeonjun is sad you don’t hang out at his place anymore, after all it’s not his fault there’s a billboard of Hyunjin right across. Falling apart felt it’d be more climatic and sudden, but it’s more of a gradual process than anything. Even now, sitting in this pretty shop in Seoul, your chest pains at the memories. The hurt is so immense sometimes you have to clutch your chest waiting for the pain to pass. It’s like a heart attack every time you think of him. You can’t remember how it used to feel when it didn’t hurt.

In the past few weeks, you’d have had a lot of selfish thoughts and wishes. Some of them are cruel in a way that you can never say it out loud. You feel guilty for even thinking them, yet most days when you’re alone in your bed and you crave him, you wish he never became an idol. Hyunjin without the fame and without his music was still the same boy inside. Hyunjin without the frills was the kid in the art store you fell in love with all those years ago.

You wish he could just be yours, to love forever, not the entire citys’. Forever was a long fucking time but you felt capable of it, of cherishing him for the rest of your life because he made it so easy. But you should have taken the hint when he cut you out of his life, without even leaving a phone number behind. If you hadn’t come to Seoul… it was entirely possible he would never have seen you again. He would have left you behind in the town, and never looked back. To him…you were just a girl he messed around with in the summer. So temporary. So forgettable.

You wish you could pick apart your brain, and take out every memory of him, but you feared there’d be nothing in you left then. Loving him took up all the space in you. Missing him did the same. Jeonghan was speaking to you still, wondering why you never shared too much about yourself, and you shrugged, “I don’t know. I just want to focus on now. I hate feeling haunted by the past. It’s paralysing, to be stuck in those memories”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, this is a pretty serious conversation for this cafe, but he asked, “You ever see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? The movie with Kate Winslet and that one dude…um, Jim Carrey?”

You’ve stopped sketching entirely now, you hadn’t made progress in hours. It goes without saying that ever since you saw Hyunjin in the city, your inspiration has been lost. You’ve been searching for it ever since, in new friendships, in new coffee shops, in conversations like this, “I…haven’t, but Felix, my best friend loved that movie”

He leaned forward, excited to explain to you, “Well, in the movie this couple’s broken up, and they hate each other, like absolutely loathe each other. So there’s this futuristic procedure where they can choose to erase memories of their lover, and the girl…she does it. It’s too painful to remember the boy she loved”

“Oh?”

“Mmh” Jeonghan’s eyes twinkle as he explained and you wonder if he and Felix would be best friends if they met; they talk about movies with the same passion, “So the guy, he starts going through the procedure too. But as the memories of their relationship start being deleted, he realises he doesn’t want them to be erased after all. They loved each other, and their time together was so special to them. That shouldn’t be forgotten. It’s a cool concept, right?”

You’re listening to him, and the noises of the cafe have faded away, “Yeah. It’s cool” You’re playing the movie in your head, wondering what you would do if you were in it. Would you alter the chemistry of your brain so Hyunjin never existed in your life? It’d sure be easier than trying to move on, which was…useless.

Jeonghan suddenly frowned realising you ate some of his cupcake. The proof was in your hands which were covered in white frosting. He leaned over the little table, “I thought you didn’t want the cupcake”

You apologised, “Sorry. The frosting was good”

“Is that so?” He grabbed your hand. He’s touchy sometimes in class, so you weren’t too surprised. But in a single swoop, he licked the frosting right off your hand, tongue swirling around your finger for a brief second, “Eh, could be better. Anyway, do you want to watch that movie with me? You could come over after you finish the artwork”

Before you could even process what just happened, a tote bag slammed onto your table, and you both jumped. Minnie grinned at you, standing by, “So did you guys finish the assignment?”

»»————-

You are supposed to paint your most dominant emotion. It’s an important task, because you’ve to be graded on it. It’s due today. The thought of being evaluated for your creativity terrifies you. You don’t feel good for anything right now, but this is what you signed up for. Your supplies are sprawled across the apartment floor, and you’re forcing each stroke onto the paper, trying to paint a semblance of anything. You want to prove your worth in the art studio. You haven’t been too interactive in class, you’ve been at your lowest, but this meant so much to you for the longest time. So you’re trying really, really hard.

There is music playing from your phone, a mix of calm songs you’d put together months ago. Hours had passed, and you’ve fiddled away at your canvas, trying to fix every little detail. You stayed up nights in a row, finishing the painting and it was honestly a good distraction, for the most part. If Kim Jieong loves it, then perhaps you’ll stop being so sad. You will yourself to just fill in the gaps of your artwork, to correct the error in your ways so that it can be perfect for the presentation today.

But it was almost time for class, and if you didn’t leave now, you’ll be late. You stare at the painting, breathing a sigh, it doesn’t look half bad, “Well…this is as good as it’s gonna get”

As you roll the canvas up so you can carry it to class, the song on your playlist changes and within seconds… Hyunjin’s voice fills your bedroom. It was a song from the new album.

You freeze, recognising it instantly, goosebumps rippling up your arms and legs. It’s a ballad, and his voice is soft and melodious. Once upon a time it was comforting. Dread fills your stomach. You hate this song. You hate his voice. You can’t listen to him ever again. Your phone lay across the bedroom floor. You need to turn it off. In your hurry to scramble for it, your hand slips, and your elbow knocks into a glass of muddy paint-water. Before you could even process it, the liquid tips over. Within seconds, helplessly you watch the wave of liquid destroy your art. It seeps across your entire canvas, ruining everything you’d worked on for weeks.

It becomes a glob of colors and it’s so funny and pathetic you couldn’t even cry or be frustrated. It’s your carelessness to blame. The only thing you can do is turn the fucking music off.

You feel stupid, showing up to class with that. When you arrive, Minnie was presenting her piece already. It’s gorgeous, and her painting is about love. It’s obvious in the way she’s drawn a portrait of what’s supposed to be her girlfriend, Jamie. There’s strokes of red for her hair, and pink and warm tones all over. Jamie is drawn so beautifully, accentuated features, so much personality in a single portrait. Does she know how beautiful she is in her girlfriend’s eyes?

Jeonghan goes next, and he’s painted triumph. It’s more abstract than a lover’s portrait. It’s smart, and it’s confident, and it’s full of gold accents. You feel ashamed thinking of your own work. You slide the rolled-up canvas behind your desk, and hope nobody notices it. Like a zombie, you’re applauding for everyone’s work, and your hands clap every few minutes, but you’re not even looking at anything anymore. Analysis and appreciation is out of the question. Your own failure is far too distracting.

Then, Kim Jieong glanced at you for the first time this morning, expectant eyes, anticipating smile, “Come on up, sweetheart”

The rest of the class had apparently finished, and you’re the only one left. It’s easy to lie through your teeth, “I’m sorry, Mr. Jieong…I forgot”

His eyebrows shoot up, and confusion is evident in his gaze, “Forgot what?”

You can feel your friends eyes on you, “I forgot about the assignment” It’s better that he think you’re careless rather than not talented. Jeonghan’s gaze on you was deathly, because he knows you’ve worked on nothing else the past few days. This was the only thing you’d been sleeping and breathing. This was your turning point. Your hope for happiness.

Your professor nods, “I see…”

“I’m sorry” Your voice was small and pathetic but you don’t even feel any remorse. Sadness is so present in you that there’s no room for guilt. You stare at your table, not wanting to look anybody in the eye, especially as he speaks, “These assignments are for a reason, and I hope everybody knows that. We don’t wake up and come all the way here to waste each others time, do we?”

You curl up in your chair, pulling your jacket tight around yourself, and your eyes sting. You could feel his stare of judgement at you as he addressed the class, when you’re the only one at fault. Everybody else did the work. Minnie’s gaze was burning into you too, but you didn’t look up for the rest of class. It’s childish. You just feel embarrassed. You count down the minutes until it’s over. You’re going to go home and redo everything, and hopefully he will forgive you for your lack of tact.

As soon as it’s time, you grabbed your bag, rushing to leave, but his voice echoed through the class, “Y/N. Please stay back. I need to talk to you”

The dreadful words make you stop in your tracks, but you were already at the door planning your escape. Minnie pinched you in the stomach as she left, “Good luck, babe”

You turned around, clutching your bag to your chest as everybody around you exits, and you know you’re being judged right now. This is a class for professionals. Heartbreak is not an excuse. You take a look at him, “Is everything okay?”

The professor crosses his legs on the stool, seemingly relaxed, and he didn’t look mad, “Just need to discuss something with you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while”

“Okay…” You breathe, running the possibilities in your head. Is he just upset, or is it possible to actually get kicked out of this program because of your fucking carelessness?

Jeonghan stops in front of you, “Should I go ahead, or do you want me to wait for you?”

Your professor was quick to interrupt, “Nate, I appreciate you sticking up for your friend, but I’d like to speak to her alone”

Your heart warmed at the thought that he was going to stay back for you, “It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow” You told him, even though you crave his comfort. Soon, the rest of the students trickle out of the classroom, dillydallying and slow to move with no care in the world. You stand by there, waiting patiently as Jieong wraps up his work, packing up his bag and things. As soon as everyone’s gone, you apologise, “I’m so sorry about forgetting the assignment. It was really irresponsible of me, and I can explain”

“Except you didn’t forget” He looked up at you.

“Sorry?”

“The canvas behind your desk. You didn’t really do a great job of hiding it”

“That’s… not my assignment” You protest, “That’s…nothing. It’s a mess”

He got up, “Then you won’t mind if I take a look at it?”

“I promise you, it’s nothing. It’s not worth…” You trailed off, watching as he makes his way there. He unfurls it, and he’s quiet for a few minutes as he stares at your botched painting. The artwork makes no sense. The canvas is completely ruined, and a kid could have done it better. He turns to you, disappointed. “Can you remind me why you’re here, Y/N?”

Your heart breaks even more, “I promise…I’m gonna do better next time”

He steps closer to you, “That’s not what I asked you, Y/N. Why are you in my program? That’s what I want to know”

You’re suddenly finding it hard to breathe, and your mind is blank. There’s no fucking space for your thoughts or for logic or reason, when it’s just been corrupted by memories he left behind, “I’m here… because I’ve always wanted to be”

“Do you think that’s good enough?”

This behavior of his isn’t even out of nowhere. You’ve been a horrible student of lately, you haven’t paid attention, your enthusiasm has been curbed, and your paintings have been tacky and upsetting. You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m really trying to be better. I’m…sorry for disappointing--”

“I’m only disappointed because you lied to me”

Your eyes shoot up to his, and his gaze burns you, “What?”

He crossed his arms, stepping close to you until there’s no personal space anymore. There’s no venom in his tone but you know he’s masquerading it because unlike you, he’s a professional who knows how to deal with people like you, “You can’t just choose what you want to do on a whim. That’s not up to you. That’s not what my program is for. This canvas is your assignment. Why are you pretending otherwise? Why didn’t you present it to the class?”

“Because I fucked up”

He didn’t flinch at your usage of the swear word, and he ran a hand over his face, “What emotion were you trying to convey?”

“Peace…”

“And is that how you feel? Peaceful?”

“No…” You sighed, “I feel horrible…” There was a lump in your throat blocking your airways. The pain in your chest was returning. You’re angry at Hyunjin for doing this to you.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on? You didn’t even meet the mentor I took you to see all the way to Pegasus for. Those field trips aren’t optional. I didn’t take you for some city tour. I wanted you to meet Karina. Those opportunities are important. If you miss those… you might as well not be here. This program is for people who value that, we have no room for freeloaders”

Your eyes shoot up to his, panic rising, and your eyes sting with tears, “Professor Jieong��”

“Can you sit down for a minute?” He stepped forward, hand going to your lower back, leading you to your seat. You feel awkward at the touch; the greenhouse studio is empty right now, it’s just you and him here. Would you have to beg him to let you stay in this program? Just like you begged Hyunjin to stay with you? He stands across you when you sit, crossing his arms, a pensive look in his eyes, “I receive…more than ten thousand applications for this program every year. There’s only twenty spaces in this classroom though. I couldn’t possibly look through all the applications myself. You’re aware of that, yes?”

It's hard for you to focus on his words when you only want to cry. In all this fucking sadness, you may just be losing the most important opportunity you ever got, “Yes…”

“I have a team that does it for me. They’re all trusted, close associates. All artists of course, and with all their idiosyncrasies they have a unique way of viewing the world. They hardly ever mess up in finding talent, but earlier this year, one of them did”

“What do you mean?”

“Your file didn’t come in to me. You were sent a rejection, weren’t you?”

The reminder is a punch to your gut, even though it’s in the past and irrelevant now.

“Did you never wonder how you got in…even after being rejected?” He asked, lips curling up, as if knows the secrets of the universe and is indulging you in all of them. He’s going to tell you it was a mistake after all. You weren’t meant for this. You’ve fucked up so bad.

You wipe the single tear on your cheek as you look up at him, “To be honest…I just decided to take the blessing, and not question further”

He smiled, eyes crinkling, “Of course you did. Well, I think you’d be interested to know how you ended up getting in” You’ve never questioned it until now, and you’re anticipating his next words, "On a hot summer morning, I was supposed to catch a train up north to visit my parents. It was my day off…I don’t get too many of those here” He laughed, “But obviously, I missed the train. Instead of taking the next one, I came back to my office. When I did, I saw your file. It was in the rejected pile, but I took a single look at it and I knew there’d been a mistake. I knew that you had to be in this program. Somebody must have overlooked it, and I’m thankful I saw yours”

Your eyes widened, “What do you mean?”

“I chose you, Y/N. Everybody else in this class was picked by my peers, by the committee, but you…I picked you myself, so you of all people shouldn’t be falling behind. You have an innate talent and I respect that a lot. I don’t want to be disappointed by you in the future. I know it’s intimidating to join in the middle of a semester, but you…belong here. Don’t question that. Don’t let it fuck you up”

You were dizzy with his compliment, perhaps this validation is the only thing you needed. You didn’t deserve this kindness, “You have a lot of confidence in someone who fucked up their painting so bad, Mr. Jieong”

“If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here, Y/N”

“Right…um, thank you” Your lips tugged into a smile, and your chest felt lighter for the first time in a long time. He picked you.

“That’s the problem with your generation, you’re always doubting yourself so much” He chuckled again, “Imagine if I’d taken that train to see my parents. I’d never seen your application. It would have been such a shame to not have you here with me”

You nodded, standing up to leave, grabbing your things, “That’s a crazy coincidence… Why didn’t you take the train though?”

He shrugged, carrying your canvas for you, so he could walk you out, “They’d closed down the entire platform for a few hours, so couldn’t even if I wanted to”

You frowned, switching off all the lights and glanced at him as the room was plunged in darkness, “Huh. I didn’t know they do that…”

“I didn’t either, but apparently some famous guy was returning to Seoul that day. I’m guessing a lot of fans wanted to see him, there was too big of a crowd. So they ended up shutting down the whole platform. Made me miss my damn train”

“A… music artist?”

“Yeah! You might have seen it on the news. He’s one of Pegasus’ artists actually. I think he’s also a painter, like you.

The pain in your chest returned with a bang, “Oh…”

He laughed, “This city and its obsession with celebrities. But I guess if it wasn’t for that… you wouldn’t be here”

“Yeah…”

His hand landed on your shoulder, trying to comfort you but nothing could, “I guess that’s why they say coincidence is just another word for fate, huh?”

»»————-

Unread messages flooded your inbox. Some from Yeonjun, most from Felix… You haven’t ignored them on purpose. You just haven’t had time or the energy to get back to them. They all read the same anyway. Asking about your life in the city, and how it feels to live your dreams. A part of you thought it’s the universe being decidedly cruel to you — reminding you the irony of how you’ve never been this miserable in your life.

And then there was one from Kairi.

hey! i hope you’ve been doing good. i went to this cute new cafe in gangnam and i thought of you. i feel like we ended things on the wrong note. could we maybe have a redo of last time? if that’s okay with you

You don’t reply, because you have no idea what you’ll even talk about to her. It’s creepy to pursue friendship with Chan’s ex. You’re supposed to be moving on, not just from him, but from his entire world.

Your phone buzzes again and it’s a text from Minnie on your group chat. It’s just you, her and Jeonghan in it. You don’t talk too much here, just make plans for class and coffee. So you were surprised at what she had sent you. Maybe she feels pitiful after the way you embarrassed yourself in class earlier.

minnie: so you’re not gonna believe this yn.

yeah?

minnie: i have a friend of a friend, and he saw a picture of you on my instagram. he thinks you’re really fucking hot.

who?

minnie: just some guy. anyway, do you want me to set you up with him?

noo. please don’t

minnie: wait you didn’t let me finish. he works in the city, and i haven’t met him yet but my friend said he’s smart and funny. he seems like the kind of guy you’d like?

you’re trying to set me up with someone you’ve never met yourself?

minnie: omg its called a blind date girl

no dates. please.

minnie: all right :( anyway jamie and me are getting drunk tonight. do you wanna come?

You were trying really hard, to make casual conversation more often, to just be a normal fucking human who isn’t heartbroken and defined by your love for someone, so you said yes. You bought a bottle of wine from the store so you could bring it for them, as a gift for inviting you over.

Minnie’s place was…nice. It’s in the higher end of the city, and she definitely comes from money. You were gathered around her dining table, and you’re sitting with your knees up on her chair. Jamie was lying on the couch across you, and she’s very tipsy already. A glass of wine was balanced on her stomach, and they’re telling you the story of how they met — through mutual friends on a night out in the city, apparently it was love at first sight, and Jamie had asked Minnie out only days after they first met. You didn’t opt for alcohol tonight, instead, you were digging into a large tub of chocolate ice-cream.

Minnie was sitting cross-legged on the table, in her pajamas, “And then, guess what restaurant she picked for our first date? This…candle-lit fucking expensive place! I was so impressed, and kind of embarrassed I wouldn’t match the vibe—”

“But you looked fucking hot” Jamie interrupted, “We flirted the entire night, and then…we fucked on the very first date. At her place”

“Whoa…” You smiled at their story, tasting another spoonful of ice cream, “And…when did you start dating? Was it soon after that?”

“It’s embarrassing. She asked me to be her girlfriend…the same night” Minnie giggled, covering her face in her hands. She was definitely very tipsy, and you’d only seen her this cheerful around Jamie. In class, she was much more composed and serious, and it’s nice to see the side of her around her lover. She’s so much more open, and happier here.

“Oh” You realised, “And you’ve been together…three years now?”

Minnie grinned, shrugging, “I’d already fallen in love on the first date, no matter how stupid that sounds”

You smiled at that, and then buried yourself into the ice-cream cup again, licking flecks off the steel spoon. Minnie nudged you, snapping you out of it, “Are you ever gonna tell us what happened with your ex or are we supposed to guess?”

“Minnie…” You rest your head against the wall, “It’s really not as interesting as your story”

“Y/N….” She whined loudly, and she had made her way through the second bottle of wine, the one you’d brought, “You don’t trust us? I promise we’re not gonna judge. Please, please, please”

“It’s not about that” You sighed, but her excitement to know your past was endearing, “I just find it depressing to talk about”

“Well. That’s what we’re here for. How can you move on if you avoid it forever?” Jamie sat up, blanket wrapped around her, and Minnie even shifted closer to you. This felt nice…to have friends here, in a city you couldn’t call home yet.

She was right. The past shouldn’t be your vulnerability. You sighed, staring inside your empty cup, “Well, then I’m gonna need a hell of a lot more ice cream”

“Um, so this is about the guy you mentioned right? The one you had lost touch with?”

You knew you’d be asked this story one day. You had to tell this without naming names. You couldn’t compromise Hyunjin like that. To them, it would just be a guy from your town, not an idol, not someone famous. You curled up your legs, ripping open the plastic of the brand new strawberry ice-cream tub, “I don’t know where to start honestly. It’s kind of a long story, but…um, I had this crazy crush on a boy in my town. He was really cute. He was kind, and funny, and…really really fucking hot”

Minnie and Jamie laughed at that, eager ears as you continued, “I didn’t think anything would happen between us, because I thought he was into my best friend. Turns out he wasn’t. Me and him ended up kissing one night, it was romantic as hell. I kind of felt like…the main character in those coming-of-age 90s films. Because he was…so old-fashioned in a way? But also, really modern. He’s so romantic” You paused to breathe and all those memories are flooding back, “I was in this…pretty satin dress, and he was in a suit, with like a cropped jacket, and really cool pants. They fit him so well”

Minnie lived in a high-rise building, and from here, the city lights blinked in the distance, golden specks lighting up the horizon. The memory flooded through you, clear as day. Two people under the night sky, surrounded by mountains on all sides. He had shown you the stars and the sky. You remember telling him that stars would remind you of him now. He had held you in his arms, and imprinted his words into your soul, “And when I look at the city lights…I’ll think of you”

Was he thinking of you now?

The city lights were brighter than ever.

“Holy shit. Where did he take you on a date to? The Met Gala?” Jamie laughed, “I didn’t know guys our age even wear suits other than to funerals”

“No, it wasn’t a date date. It was just a fancy event in the town” Maybe you had terrible storytelling skills, because nothing made sense and it was all jumbled up, but they were listening intently so you continued anyway. No words could convey your first kiss with him. No sentences could capture your emotions, the lust, the love.

“But after that kiss, he regret it immediately. He wasn’t really looking for a relationship. Despite that we kept kissing, over and over…and we didn’t stop. It became a thing, I don’t really know what we were doing” You smiled softly, staring at the skyscraper lights from their window, a kaleidoscope of inappropriate memories projected on the glass. You lost your words, blaming your imagination for the way a film reel of those moments was cast onto the windows. Maybe you really were going crazy, staring at the glass, and seeing him touching you in the reflection. Heat rushed to your face, like your dirtiest thoughts were out on display, but Jamie and Minnie were quiet, and this was all in your head anyway. You took a larger serving of the ice-cream this time, the creamy texture melting on your tongue, “I guess that’s when I realised I was absolutely, insanely in love with him, but… then he had to leave”

“Leave for what? The military?” Minnie’s eyes were wide. Jamie shushed her, “Wait, let her talk babe. You can ask your questions later”

“No, not the military, just for his work, and then…” Then came the hard part of this story, “And then he blocked me. For a few months. I don’t know why”

They frowned, but they didn’t interrupt you, “I saw him in a shop downtown, and he completely walked past me at first…he ignored me. But when we met later, he kissed me. Then he told me he could never see me again” It sounded crazy told all together like this. It didn’t sound like your life. It sounded like a story from some tacky relationship podcast Jeonghan would listen to, but it was the truth. Their eyes were wide as you finished, and you stared at them, feeling naked and vulnerable, “That’s the gist of it”

“He sounds like an asshole” Jamie mumbled, pouring herself another drink. Your gaze shot up to hers. “Is thatwhat I’d made him seem like? That wasn’t my intention. He’s not an asshole, he’s…really nice”

Minnie frowned, “Yeah. No nice guy would do that to someone he cares about”

They didn’t know he was an idol, and they couldn’t know, so it was frustrating that they’d never understand all of it. How could they have guessed that it was forbidden for Hyunjin to love you?

“Honestly that sounds really fucked up. If he actually gave a shit about you, he wouldn’t have ghosted you in the first place, and then he had the nerve to kiss you? God, men are such dicks. As soon he had enough of the sex, he dropped you?”

They didn’t know all the nice things he’d said to you, or the nice things he’d done for you. You shook your head, “No, guys… it wasn’t just about the physical—”

“Did he ever tell you he loved you?”

You swallowed, “No…”

“And he told you he doesn’t do relationships” Jamie scoffed, “That’s what my friend’s ex was like. He said the same thing, and next year he got fucking married to another girl. This boy you’re telling us about…he’s obviously not going to be single forever, especially if he’s as nice as you say he is. If he actually saw any future with you, Y/N, he would have told you”

Minnie sighed, and it seemed like this very specific conversation about you had escalated into a hatred of most men, “It sounds like a fucked up situationship, and babe… if you give him so much importance it’ll only hurt you. He used you, because you’re so fucking nice. Not that that’s your fault, but…he’s just like every guy I know. They like the thrill of the chase, and when they actually get the girl, they’re bored of her”

A fucked up situationship? Maybe that’s what it actually was. Hyunjin had clearly stated that what you and him had only existed in Daejon. Here you were, calling it destiny, stupidly. Your vision became blurry as tears shot up to your eyes, and it was pathetic because you weren’t even drunk, you were just sad and loaded on strawberry ice-cream, “He’s not like that”

“Why are you defending him?”

You knew they were wrong. Obviously they were wrong, but is that what this seemed like to the outside world? That Hyunjin used you? Because you were easy…and nice?

Minnie reached out to touch your shoulder, comfortingly squeezing it, “You can do so much better than him, Y/N. From everything you said… he just sounds manipulative as hell”

You put the empty ice cream cup away, “Yeah” You mumbled, “So…what am I supposed to do now?”

“Get yourself out there! Go on dates. Kiss every guy in Seoul if you want to, if that makes you happy. You’re… fucking amazing. Are you seriously going to wait around for a guy who isn’t even trying for you?”

You’ve never been a casual person, but maybe that is what you need now. You’re done with world-shattering true loves. Even Hyunjin had casually been with girls before you, and the thought stung you that he might even be with girls after you. He only had an issue with relationships…and that’s why he’d pushed you away, because he couldn’t give you one. There’d be thousands of other girls who’d be willing to be with him - no label, no expectations, just sex. Yeah, you did need to get yourself out there. How bad could it be?

»»————-

The text said, Meet at eight.

It’s half past, and your date is not here.

You’d dressed yourself in a tight black dress, very revealing and you could hardly breathe. It was from a fancy store in your neighbourhood, and it was far too expensive, but it’d be worth it for tonight. You did your hair in a style Hana had taught you, and you haven’t dolled up like this in a long, long while. The last time you dressed yourself this much…was for the Paint and Wine event in the Château. Tonight is a first for you and you want to make a real good impression.

Although, it’s been more than thirty minutes and your date hasn’t shown up. You were sitting at the bar, getting anxious and impatient. Looking around, the place was full, everybody seemed to be on a date, and nobody’s looking at you. Nobody was looking for you. You’re only a little mortified, and the best case scenario is…that he got the timing wrong, or that he got busy and decided this wasn’t worth his time. Minnie told you he’s working, so he obviously has a more hectic schedule than yours. The worst case? That he saw you and left.

“Can I get you anything?” The bartender asked, leaning over the wooden bar, “You’ve been here a while…”

“I’m waiting for somebody to show up. A date…” You explained, and understanding settled into his features. He headed back to the rest of his customers, and you wonder if he’s going to gossip about the poor stood-up girl at the bar. They must see this a lot everyday. This bar seems fancy, your blind date suggested you meet here so he seems like a man with good standards. There’s a dance floor and blaring Latin music, which brings in most of the crowd. You texted Minnie, um am i at the right bar?

shit he’s not there yet?

You decided to order a drink so tonight isn’t useless after all, and you browsed through the flimsy, paper menu. It’s got stains of ketchup on it, and it’s gross but it reminds you that you hadn’t ate in hours. You wanted to be able to fit into this dress and to leave enough room for dinner with him. Your eyes caught sight of the familiar names of drinks that Hyunjin had wanted to make you but didn’t have the ingredients for. You ended up choosing a Tequila Sunrise instead. You don’t really want to taste an Italian Dolce Vita and discover what you missed out on that last night in Daejon with him.

An hour has passed now. You were most definitely stood-up, but you’re stubborn so you would stay until the end of tonight, and if he ever did show up you’d forgive your date in a second. Your drink was empty, you’d chugged it to calm your nerves. Your napkin was soggy, and the other couples who sat at the bar have already made their way to second base: the dance floor where they’re grinding up against each other. You have resorted to playing with the condensation drops on your glass, observing the way the water falls onto the countertop.

A blind date was how this had all started, back in the bowling alley, so why were you getting yourself into it again? Maybe you should have more dignity, and walk away right now, but you were so desperate. If you leave tonight, you’d never work up the courage again to go on a date, and you need this more than anything. You feel so stupid, and maybe Hana’s actions that past summer actually make sense anyway. You would do anything to forget Hyunjin. You’d date …almost anybody to get over him. Even if it’s a guy who kept you waiting for an hour by yourself.

“Hey. Um. Are you Y/N?” An unfamiliar voice asked. You turned around to see a boy in a maroon button-up. He’s finally here, and your heart calms a little because he’s actually cute. All Minnie had said about him was that he was smart and funny, so it’s a relief that he’s easy on the eyes too. He looked older than you, and he’s got kind eyes and curly hair. Although it’s a bit off-putting that he’s wearing a baseball cap indoors. It felt like you’re both dressed for different occasions, but you are not going to complain. No matter what happens tonight, you can’tcomplain. This isn’t the time to be picky. It’s the time to take whatever life throws at you, because clearly that’s the only way you’re going to find somebody genuinely interested in you.

“Hey, Kang-min, right?” You forced a smile at him, and suddenly you’re so nervous. This is the first real date you’ve ever been on in ages.

The boy took the empty barstool next to you, and eyed your glass, “Sorry I was late, I had a friend emergency. I hope you’re not drunk already. That’d be mean”

You smiled, watching the way he sat so comfortably like this was routine for him, “It was just one drink. Don’t worry, I just came here too” Just a little white lie so he wouldn’t feel too guilty.

His eyes flickered over your dress, falling to your cleavage, “Did you buy that just for me?”

It was so forward that it caught you off guard. Your eyes widened, and you don’t want to give away how much tonight could possibly mean to you. So you said, “Um. Depends. Do you like it?”

He laughed, gaze on your bare legs and thighs, shamelessly checking you out, “Guess you’ll find out”

You don’t really know what to say so you smile at him, hoping he also likes the shade of red lipstick you’re wearing. He looks around the place, catching a feel for it, and then back at you. He looked at the bartender, snapping his fingers to catch his attention and ordered a drink for himself. A large beer. Tasteful. He looked at you and asked, “So…what’s your damage, pretty?”

“Sorry?”

His drink arrived pretty fast, and he lift the large glass to his lips. In a single go, he finished all of it, and you’re surprised at how fast he drank this. He had foam on his upper lip as he said, “You agreed to go on a blind date. Your last relationship must have been seriously fucked up”

You hoped you masqueraded your frown, “I just wanted to try something new”

“Right…makes sense” He tsked, “So my friend told me you’re an artist”

You smiled, relieved the conversation steered in a direction you were familiar with, “Yup. I study at a studio in the city. It’s an art program under this artist--”

He interrupted you, “I hear artists infamously make almost no money, but I mean you’re living in Seoul. You must be pretty well off” He pointed at you, almost accusatory, a grin on his face, “Let me guess, rich parents. Trust fund. Private school education”

You shook your head, a little offended and surprised that he made such an assumption in five minutes of knowing you, “No. I…I worked a couple of years and saved up for this”

He called the bartender again, to order a second beer and seemed surprised, “That takes some serious hustle. Why art then? You could’ve picked anything in the world”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…not to offend anyone, but there’s no money in art. What’s the point of it then?”

“Um…” You laughed, nervously. You realised that you’ve never been asked this question before. Most people in your life knew you since birth, and never questioned your passion for it, “It’s just what I like to do. It makes me really happy to paint beautiful things—”

“So you don’t paint about real shit?”

“Sorry?”

“I think my personal pet peeve is when people pretend the world is so great and lovely, even though everything’s so fucked up. Seems like you look at the world with rose-tinted glasses, if you only like to paint all the nice, pretty things, and not something that actually matters”

“I think art can be about everything, and that’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t always have to make a social statement, but it can always be interpreted as such. Some art is just about capturing the beauty of our world, and that’s okay too” You forced a smile, wanting to get the heat off you, “Um so you never told me… What do you do?”

He looked at you over the rim of his glass, “I’m a pharmacy tech. In short; I make important phone calls, and deal with horribly annoying people”

So that’s why Minnie said he was smart, “Oh…that must have taken a lot of studying”

“Yeah. Not everyone can do it, but somebody has to” He laughed, “I stepped up. I make good money though. So, um, aren’t you going to get another drink, Y/N or are you a lightweight?”

“I’m good” You smiled, although you were hungry as fuck because you’d been waiting for him so long, “Maybe we could order the food now?”

“Here?” He chuckled, “It’s really not worth it, I only come here for the beer. You didn’t get dinner before this?”

“I…I thought we’d eat together”

He laughed, pushing his curls out of his face, “No, I’d rather get drunk with you…and we can dance”

You looked to the dance floor which smelled of sweat and other things you don’t want to think of, “Maybe we could just talk more. I’ll just get another drink then”

He smiled, then looked at the bartender, “A beer for the lady”

“Actually, I might get wine”

His eyes narrowed, and he chuckled, “Oh. Let me guess. You want the most expensive one, right?”

You blinked, “Um…no I’m okay with any. The cheapest one is fine too”

He laughed, throwing his head back, “No wine is cheap, pretty. ”

“I can pay for it” You offered. Ugh. You wanted him to like you so bad.

“No, no, you’re out with me. You should have a real drink” He went ahead and ordered a beer for you. He probably thought you were the most boring girl in this entire city, so you agreed. You needed tonight to go well. Obviously, he wasn’t anything like Hyunjin, but no one could be. If you compared every boy to him, you’d never find anybody. So this would have to do. You sipped on the beer, and it tasted bitter and so horrible, but you swallowed anyway, shooting him a smile. You’d been miserable for long, you needed to let go, and have fun. You could be that kind of girl.

He grinned, reaching forward to grab your thigh, fingers clawing against your skin, “You’re cute”

You were distracted by the suddenness of his touch, and you laughed, nervously, “Thank you. You’re cute too. I like your piercings”

“Yeah?” He tilt his head, smirking, “You’re like the tenth girl to say that to me. I must be doing something right”

You didn’t have much experience with first dates... was it always this fucking awkward? His hand was inching closer up your thigh. You shifted away slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Sure, he was attractive, but you weren’t attracted to him yet. It was too soon.

“So…you said you’re late because of a friend emergency? What was it?” You wanted hoping to keep the conversation going, and to keep it interesting. You wanted to know more about him.

“Ugh. Do not remind me” He rolled his eyes.

“Sorry” You apologised, “Is your friend okay?”

“Nope. He ran out of some weed, so I had to run down and get some for him. Even though he knew I had a date tonight and hot girls rank higher in priority than weed”

“Oh…you seem like a good friend”

He was a perfectly cute boy, why couldn’t you let loose? Just because you’d been attracted to Hyunjin from the first time you saw him, did not mean it’d happen with everybody else. That kind of shit was once in a lifetime, and if you started expecting those sparks from every future relationship, you’d be lonely forever. But all you could wish for was him. The way he was around you, how he talked to you… the way your body was on fire when he so much as breathed near you. The thought choked you. There was no way you’d be hung up on him forever. You had to move on. It had to be as fast as possible, and tonight should be it. How often would a guy agree to go on a date with you anyway?

So, when his hand landed on your thigh again, and slipped under the hem of your dress, you didn’t stop him. You forced a smile, hoping somehow your body would cooperate, and you’d actually start enjoying it. His nails were long, digging into your upper thigh, inching closer to your underwear.

“Maybe we could play a drinking game or something. To get to know each other better” You suggested.

“Okay” He agreed, pulling his bar stool closer and leaned in, “Name of the last guy you fucked”

Your eyes widened, “Whoa. You’re getting right to it…” What game was this? Why would he want to know that anyway?

He tilt his head, smirking, “Don’t stall. You have fucked, right?”

Oh… So he just wanted to know if you were a virgin. “Yeah. I have” You tried to change the topic, trying not to feel disgusted at this implication, “Isn’t it my turn to ask you something now? I mean…according to the game”

Kangmin smiled, lazily, running a hand through his curls, “You’re…already playing pretty hard to get though. We’ll have plenty of time to know each other. My place is pretty close. We’ve got all night.”

So…he probably only picked this bar because he lived close by. Maybe this was his way of flirting with you, or you ended up going on a date with the worst guy in Korea. This was how the rest of your life would be? He leaned in closer to you, and his breath reeked of beer, and you realised in horror that he wanted to kiss you. You couldn’t. You moved away, before his lips could touch yours, hoping your unease would disappear, “Sorry. I’m nervous”

He hummed, almost taking this as a challenge, hand sliding under your dress completely, “A few more drinks then?”

You felt nauseous, instead of turned on. God, what the fuck were you doing here. This was a mistake. You couldn’t do this. “Actually. I’m just…gonna run to the bathroom for a minute” You grabbed your purse.

He sat up straighter, a smirk on his lips, “Oh? That’s where you want to take this?"

Your eyes widened at his implication, “What? No…I…I just need to go”

“Oh” He looked disappointed, and a little confused, like he couldn’t comprehend why you wouldn’t want to fuck him in a random club bathroom.

You got up, making your way through the dance floor. When you looked back, he was already ordering another beer for the two of you. You shouldn’t have agreed to this date. You don’t know what you expected. It had surely helped Hana, but she moved on from Yeonjun with Hyunjin. Of course that helped her. For their date, he took her to the coolest Japanese restaurant in Daejon, and a part of you thought tonight could be like that. Of course it couldn’t. That was her. That was him. This was all you.

It was freezing outside, and there was an alley of smokers right at the exit. Mostly old men, and some younger girls, blowing puffs of smoke into your face as you passed them. You leaned against the brick wall, trying to book a cab, but to your luck, there were none available. Your first instinct was to text Yeonjun, but he was on a work retreat, as far as you remember. Although Jeonghan… had told you he was going to be out in the city today. If he was close enough…maybe he could help you get home. You dialled his number.

“Y/N! how’s it going?” He asked, and then immediately said, “Wait, if you’re calling me in the middle of your date that means—”

“Can you come pick me up? Please. There’s no taxis” You blurted. A few of the smokers were eyeing you up, and you covered your chest with your arms, stepping away from their cloud of smoke, “And um…I don’t feel comfortable taking the train back alone”

He paused, “Uhh…you’re at the bar downtown?”

“Yeah…I know it’s out of the way. I’m really sorry to bother you, I just—”

“I’m on my way, Y/N. Don’t apologise”

You squeezed your eyes shut in relief. You tried to catch your breath, but there was no fresh air here. Minutes passed so slowly, and you were shivering against the brick wall. Everytime a guy approached you, you just pretended to be on your phone, hoping Jeonghan would be here soon. The back door to the club opened, and your blind date, Kang-min stepped out. He walked straight to you, and he looked…really pissed. You straightened up, watching him get closer. “What the fuck?” He laughed, “I was waiting for you to come back”

“I…I’m sorry” You apologised, “I was feeling sick”

He seemed upset, “You didn’t even pay for your drink”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I just—” You reached into your purse, but just as you did, you spotted Jeonghan on the other side of the street. When he saw you, he did a little jog up to you.

You looked back at Kang-min, “I have to go. My friend is here”

“What?” Your blind date asked, stepping closer.

“Whoa, whoa. Back off, dude" Jeonghan made it to you, eyes narrowed at him, “Let’s go, Y/N” He grabbed your hand, pulling you to his side.

Kang-min laughed, “Whatever. You aren’t even that hot, bitch”

Before you could say anything, Jeonghan tugged at your hand, taking you away from a possible confrontation, “Come on, the subway is close by”

“Fuck. Shit. I’m really sorry” You apologised, running your hands through your hair, trying to process what you just put yourself through. You followed behind him as you walked to the nearest station. He shook his head, making sure you stayed close to him, “No, no don’t be. I’m sorry it took me so long. I missed this stop at first”

Technically, you could have taken the train home yourself, but it was late and…you were in the worst mood. Jeonghan bought the tickets, and you waited at the platform, squeezing your purse in your hands. A little bakery was still open at the station, and he asked, “You already ate dinner, right?”

“Yeah. Let’s just go home” You mumbled. He did not need to know that your supposed fancy dinner date consisted of only cheap beer. You could have some cold pizza when you got home. The train arrived, and you boarded it, standing next to him in a corner, away from the crowd. You were so fucking embarrassed, but he wasn’t judging you.

So no more blind dates for you then… or perhaps it was a work in progress, and you would just have to keep powering through. It wasn’t Minnie’s fault either, she had no idea about the guy being…such an asshole. You stared out at the window as the train whizzed by stations, trying to not feel so sorry for yourself. Jeonghan asked you about the blind date, and you told him the gist of it.

He shook his head, releasing a groan, “That sounds really annoying, sorry. It sucks that most guys I know here are all like that. I’m surprised he even let you leave”

You swallowed, “Yeah. Were you busy when I called?”

“I was just working on an assignment”

“Oh, I’m sorry”

“I’m obviously kidding” He laughed, “It’s a Saturday night, I was at a party at my friends’”

“Oh. Is he gonna be mad you left?”

“It doesn’t matter. I told him my friend needed help getting out of a date. He totally understood. This happens here more than you think, unfortunately”

Your place wasn’t too far from the bar, and you arrived sooner than you thought. Jeonghan even chose to walk you home, not wanting you to take any deserted alleys on your own. You stopped in front of your building, and he asked you, “You gonna be fine?”

You blew a puff of cold air, leaning against the front wall, “Yeah. I just…I don’t think I should have gone on the date”

He tucked a stray hair behind your ear, smiling at you, “At least you have a funny story to tell the kids”

You scoffed, “What kids? At this rate, I’m going to die alone”

“You’re dramatic. I’m sure the other dates you go on will be better. Hopefully”

“Yeah…” You already dreaded the idea of going on more dates, “I just thought…it’d help me not be stuck in the past, you know? Or maybe the only thing that can help me is that potion from the movie you were telling me about. Eternal Sunshine, was it?”

Jeonghan laughed loudly, “It’s not a potion, Y/N! It’s a science fiction movie, not fantasy”

You rolled your eyes, smiling, “Whatever”

“Maybe we can get you on a dating app. If you’re looking to casually mess around with a decent guy, those are good. It requires more effort, but…some guys are sweet. At least better than the blind date you had”

You smiled, “Hmm. Are you on a dating app?”

“Why? Would you swipe on me, if you saw me on one?” He sounded so coy.

Your eyes flickered over him. Under the lights on the street where you lived, Jeonghan looked pretty. He looked safe. Tonight he was dressed in a simple white tee, a flannel covering him, hanging off one shoulder. You smiled, a flush rising to your cheeks, “No but seriously, thanks for…rescuing me tonight”

“Mmh, that was very damsel in distress of you to call me like that”

You smiled up at him, “Don’t push it”

“I’m just surprised you actually agreed to go on a date. Minnie and her girlfriend must have had some magical convincing powers”

You sighed, “I thought kissing somebody else would help me. Maybe I should have just let him kiss me, but I might have thrown up if he did. Tonight…was an absolute failure.”

Jeonghan let out a soft hum at your words, “I see”

“What?” You frowned, standing up straighter.

“Ah. Don’t pout. Wasn’t a total failure. I got to see you all dressed up. You’re usually showing up to class in just sweats”

“Are you making fun of my heartbreak?” You laughed, pushing him lightly.

He stumbled back on the curb, laughing, “And are you trying to kill me? Don’t push me onto the road, Y/N!”

You giggled, pulling him back on the sidewalk, “There’s no cars, Jeonghan. You’re so dramatic”

He frowned, throwing his hands up, “I was just saying that if you want to kiss someone tonight. I…wouldn’t be totally opposed to the idea.”

He floated that suggestion so casually. Your eyes widened at it, and you didn’t know what to make of it, “You’re…joking, right?”

He shrugged, and there was no nervousness, “If your big dream of tonight was to kiss some guy…I mean, you’re my friend. It’s not a big deal”

“So a pity kiss?” You frowned, but a smile tugged at your lips.

He rolled his eyes, “Oh my god. If you don’t want a kiss, then just—”

You didn’t let him finish, stepping ahead, hand grabbing his face down to yours. Your mouth met his, if only to shut him up. He immediately kissed you back, hands threading through your hair, messing up your fancy hair. His lips were rough, but it was nice…because it was different. That’s exactly what you wanted right now, a taste of something new and unfamiliar. Maybe you were trying to prove something by kissing him. He stepped ahead to be closer, and tilt his head, deepening the kiss. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you pulled away. It only lasted a few seconds.

He pulled back too, mouth stained from your lipstick, “Mm. That wasn’t too bad”

You stared up at him, “You’re so annoying”

He hummed, voice breathy, “Your lips are really soft, Y/N. What lip balm do you use?”

You sighed, “I should have just pushed you on the street”

“Ouch. I just gave you a pity kiss and you have the audacity to threaten me?”

“Shut up!” You laughed, shoving him away. You were thankful he didn’t make this awkward and didn’t read into it.

“No, I’m serious. It was really, really good. You’re a great kisser…but I should tell you, and this is really important…”

“Yes…?”

“You taste like cheap beer”

“Ugh…I know” You closed your eyes, feeling tiredness seep into your limbs, “Anyway, I should go”

He nodded at you, “Yup. See you in class tomorrow”

You waved goodbye, making your way up to your apartment, feeling the sensation of his lips on yours still. The kiss was nice…but there was nothing electric about it. It was nothing like what it could be. It’s like you’d taken one step forward, and two steps back. Tonight was all about moving on, but everything that happened had just made you miss Hyunjin more.

»»————-

This time, you bought the coffee. You found a cute table, over by the window, and you waited. Your earphones were plugged in, but it’s on mute, and you’re choosing to listen to the sounds of the cafe instead. The cafe you discovered with your friends was so cute. Plants hung from every corner, and there was cool seating; couches with crochet pillows and pink heart-shaped seats. It had so much personality, and it fuelled your inspiration. It could be your new haven.

The chair opposite you shifted, and Kairi sat down. “There you are. I’m dying for some caffeine” She smiled, cherry-colored lips. She was dressed in a fleece bomber jacket. You shot her a smile, trying to not be nervous, “Hey… Did you want a Mocha? I wasn’t sure if you’d like the same as last time”

“Americano” She told you, settling comfortably like you did this each day. She had been so sweet to you even in the few moments you had with her. She was a breath of fresh air. So, after your failure of a date, you had finally texted her back, and decided to let her into your life. Maybe you could immerse yourself into your new friendships, and you could move on like that. When you were standing in line to buy her coffee, you glanced in her direction and she was smiling at you, fondly. She hadn’t seemed upset that you didn’t text her back for so long. You wondered how much she knew about you, how much Hyunjin told her, or even Chan.

When you walked back to the table with coffee and snacks, you feared there might not be anything to talk about if she already has existing assumptions of you, but once your conversation started…it didn’t end.

“So you’ve only been here a few weeks right?” Kairi was sipping on her coffee, a plate of half-eaten biscuits laid between you. From here, you had a perfect view of the street and it looked Parisian. It’s good for people-watching, but right now, Kairi’s the most interesting thing here, “You seem like you’re settling in well”

“I think so. I’ve lost track” You answered her, reaching for a biscuit, “I moved here in the fall, and it’s almost winter now, but it also feels like no time has passed”

“You’re so lucky” She hummed.

You lift an eyebrow, “Why?”

“I’ve always had this crazy dream, to move somewhere new. A place where people would have absolutely no idea who I am. I could have a new name, new job” She laughed, “Like a secret identity”

“Why would you want that?”

She shrugged, wiping biscuit crumbs off her mouth, “I’m curious to see what kind of person I might be in another country… if I’d behave differently, if I’d have different reactions to situations…if I’d have the same kind of friends, or job”

“Oh…wow” You blinked, “You’ve actually thought it through”

“Well, yes” She shook her head, smiling, “You did start over. How’s that been for you, Y/N?"

You leaned back in your seat, it’s a plush leather and pink in color. In this moment, it doesn’t feel like this is the first real conversation you’re having with her, “It’s harder in practice, Kairi. I think your baggage ends up following you everywhere”

She leaned forward, and her eyes were sparkling, “No, but what if it didn’t? What if you could have…a clean slate? What would you do, Y/N?”

“What would I do….?” You’re left wondering. In a way, Seoul was your clean slate, but you’ve let it be tainted by your sadness, “I think I’d move to Paris…or a big city like Milan. I would…have a cool, catchy name, and I’d dye my hair a crazy color”

Kairi laughed, “Really? And what would you do in a city so big?”

“I don’t know. I would love to set up those little stalls at crowded places like the Eiffel Tower, and paint tourists, capturing them at their happiest. People are always so carefree on their vacations, and they’re always dressed their best. Even if I don’t make much money doing their portraits…I’d kill to give them a beautiful memory, something they could hang on their fridge door or something, you know what I mean? It’s not ambitious at all but man, I could imagine doing that for years and enjoying it”

Kairi was smiling wide, eyes crinkling as you talked, and you suddenly felt embarrassed for the way you’d been rambling, “Um sorry. I don’t know what came over me. That’s not what you asked”

This was strange because…you haven’t felt excited like this in a long while. You felt inspired. It’s as if something has changed, just from her presence. She put you at ease.

“No, you’re so cute. Your dreams are beautifully simplistic” She told you, and you almost blushed.

“What would you do, Kairi? If you could be anyone in the world?” You had a newfound vigor and energy, only from this conversation alone. Was it really so simple to find motivation?

“I would move to the countrysides of Japan…or an island in Hawaii. Somewhere away from people. It would be nice to have so much time for myself, and not be surrounded by millions of others”

Your heart warmed hearing her talk, “We want the exact opposite things. That’s kind of funny. You should move to Daejon”

Kairi laughed, “Hyunjin told me it was beautiful”

Your smile fell, momentarily, and you nodded, “It is. Yeah. What else did he tell you…about me?”

Her lips parted, to answer, but before she could, your phone buzzed loudly on the table.

“Who is that?” She asked. You looked up at her in surprise. “Sorry” She apologised, cheeky, “I’m nosy like that”

“It’s my neighbour” You told her, reading Jeongin’s text, “Apparently he locked himself out. He needs help getting back in”

She frowned, “That’s annoying”

“Yeah, he’s always helping me get in, like every second day…” You told her, typing in a reply to tell Jeongin you’d be there soon.

Kairi sat up straighter, a sad pout on her face, “I guess that means you have to leave”

“Yeah. Shit” You realised, “I’m sorry. I would like to stay more—”

She reached across the table, grabbing your hand, and you noticed she’s wearing a charm bracelet, similar to one you had, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll just have to make it up to me then”

You tilt your head, “How?”

“Same time. Tomorrow”

You smiled at her eagerness, “Um…I’m not sure if I’ll be free, Kairi. I might have class…”

She squeezed your hand, “Regardless, I’ll be here. I have some work on my laptop…and I prefer to work out here, so…”

And that was it.

You rushed home to Jeongin, helping him get into the building, and he was intensely apologetic of cutting your plan short. He’d been standing on the porch steps, hands in his pockets, and a sheepish smile on his face, “Shit. I ruined your day, didn’t I?”

You shook your head, inserting your keys into the doorknob, “Not at all. I wasn’t going to let you stand out here in the cold. And are we still in the 18th century? You should talk to Mr. Kwon and have digital keypads put in or something. He loves you, so he’d listen to you”

He watched you from where he stood, arms crossed over his chest, “What happened today?”

You glanced back at him, “Sorry?”

“You haven’t had a proper conversation with me in days”

You stilled, not realising that you’d done so, you hadn’t meant to be so flippant, “Jeongin, I’m sorry, I…”

“You don’t need to apologise. It’s good. I like it. You seem chatty today”

You smiled, “Um. I just met a friend for coffee”

“Ah. Is that all it takes to win your heart?”

You rolled your eyes, “Stop…”

“Is it the same friend that dropped you off the other day? That boy?”

Your eyes widened, “How do you know that? Have you been spying on me”

“You wish” He walked past you on the stairs, “That was an awkward kiss, Y/N. Haven’t your friends in the city taught you anything yet?”

You gasped, following up after him, “What do you mean it was awkward?”

Jeongin laughed, stopping in front of his apartment door, “I’m kidding. Is that dude your boyfriend?”

You hugged your bag, leaning against the stairwell, “No… he’s just my friend from class”

Jeongin smiled, “I see…well, if you ever wanna hang out with someone not from your class…” He pointed to his door, “My doorbell’s right here”

Then he left, and you stood at the stairwell, a soft smile on your face.

»»————-

The table by the window with the heart-shaped chairs was occupied. Kairi sat on one side, laptop before her, a cup of tea and a gochujang sandwich with the meat spilled out. The chair opposite her was empty, for you. She didn’t see you when you walked in, too busy typing super fast on the laptop. “No coffee today?” You asked, sitting down.

She seemed surprised, cheeks dimpling as she smiled at you, looking away from her work, “You made it. How was class?”

You hung your scarf over the back of the pink seat, glancing outside. It could have been a beautiful afternoon, if the weather weren’t so dreary. “It was just work in studio time... I left early.”

“You’re kidding me. I feel special” She grinned, eyebrows raising teasingly. She is special. There’s something about her that’s changed the energy in you, making you get out of bed today.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting” You admitted, folding your arms on the little table, “And I thought we could pick up where we left off. I was wondering about it all night”

“Hmm, right. You can text me too, you know?” She leaned forward, head in her hands, “You asked me a question yesterday. You still want to know?”

You’d asked her what Hyunjin had said about you, and you swallowed. Immediately there’s a damper in your mood, “I…I was just really curious, because…” What if he talked shit about you? What if all she knew about you were your flaws? Your gut hurt and you shook your head, “Actually, I don’t want to know, never mind”

She sensed the drop in you, “Don’t worry about that. You’re mine to know now”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…I want to know you on my own terms. Not through secondhand stories of your personality. We don’t need to talk about him, at all”

It’s like a weight lifted off your chest, “We don’t…?”

You don’t want your friendship with her to stem from Hyunjin, because…Hyunjin has given up on you. He’s lost all hope for the two of you, and you can’t let that taint this new beginning. In an ideal world, you could erase him from your mind, and nothing would be tainted by the beauty of his existence. He’s ruined everything for you, because the happiness of nothing can compare to him.

You want the exclusivity of her. She wants to know you without the attached drama of broken hearts. You also want to know the real Kairi, without Chan, and it seems like she wants to know you too, without Hyunjin.

“We don’t have to ever talk about him, if you don’t want to. I don’t want to spend all our time talking about boys anyway” She smiled, and it’s a relief. Your shoulders relax. You don’t want to relive the past like you did with Minnie and Jamie.

You smiled too, “Well anyway…I see that you’re having tea today”

She laughed, a pleasant sound that calmed you, “Well, if we’re going to be doing this everyday, I have to start being more healthy”

“Everyday…?”

A single cup of coffee turned into a week’s worth. A week turned into a month, and quickly, it became obvious that she was your favourite person to hang out with in the city. Yeonjun was there, but he was different. Jeonghan and Minnie were closer to you everyday, but you only talked about art. Kairi and you talked about everything, and anything. Anything except him. She told you about her work, about the drama and the gossip with her coworkers. You told her about the movies Felix used to drag you to, and the music that played on repeat in Aera’s. You hadn’t made time for a movie since forever, so one day, she took you to the theater and instead of your routine coffee, you had soda.

You like to sketch while you talk, and she sits across you, finishing up her work. Her corporate job is tough, but you keep each other entertained. Your art still isn’t too inspired. You’re struggling, and you come home to an empty bed each night. There’s nights you get lost in the memories of summer, and there are mornings when you wake up from dreams of him. Sweet dreams. Dirty dreams. Beautiful, out-of reach dreams. In your dreams, he’s yours still.

All your afternoon naps remind you of him. Something about the sunlight, the warm wooden floors and you have an urge to be in his arms. So you stop sleeping during the day. In the moonlight and secrecy of your bed, you still touch yourself to thoughts of only one boy. You can’t help it.

All of the people who said time heals all wounds, were actually right. Each day, the burden is less. It feels like you were inching closer and closer to a state of not just being heartbroken. You had your moments though, like when Jeonghan would take you home after class, the skyscrapers would reflect onto the train windows, and you’d think of how prettier the blinding lights would be through Hyunjin’s eyes. Your own couldn’t capture the beauty he could see.

There’d be moments -- when someone in the coffee shop would order a vanilla iced latte with whipped cream and sprinkles, and your heart would skip a beat, wondering if he’d be on the other end of the counter to take it. But of course, Hyunjin could never walk into a crowded coffee shop in the middle of Seoul.

On the other hand…Kairi and you are closer every day. The day you invited her to your apartment, she met Jeongin on the staircase, and she fawned over how contagious his smile was. She picked you up from the Atelier one day, and bumped into your friends from class, and she loved them too. She can be intimidating sometimes, with her classy clothes, bold personality…but she has endless love to give to everyone, and she’s not a fan of keeping it hidden. You love that the most about her. It’s easy to be happier around her. You wonder how her and Chan ever made it work. A love like theirs shouldn’t be behind closed doors.

On a Thursday afternoon, you were none the wiser when she told you, “So…my birthday’s next week”

You spilled your coffee at the revelation, staring up at her in shock, “You’re telling me now?”

Her eyes widened at the reaction, and she pulled out a tissue from the dispenser to wipe the table clean as she laughed, “Why not?”

“That’s…not enough time”

“For?”

“I have to buy you a present”

She giggled, “A present? You don’t need to, Y/N”

You scoffed, and you’re so much more comfortable around her now, “I kind of have an obsessive problem when it comes to birthdays”

She shook her head, “You really don’t need to get me anything. Some of my friends from work are throwing a party, and I’d like you to be there. Obviously”

“A party?”

She smiled, “It’ll be fun. You can invite Jeonghan too. It won’t be too big a thing, but I’m guessing there’s gonna be a lot of plus-ones”

“Where is it?”

She smiled, sipping her coffee in between. She’d given up on tea after the first time, “So…there are these campgrounds outside Seoul. It’s a few hours from the city, it’s alongside the bank of the Han River. There’s a lot of…outdoorsy shit there, volleyball courts, barbecue grills, some cabins if anyone wants to stay overnight, canoes. I was thinking it’d be nice to go there.

“That…sounds amazing actually”

“I don’t know what to wear yet. Everybody’s going to be in swimsuits, since the river’s right there and my friends all love to go out on it, skinny dip and everything”

“Oh wow” You blinked, and Kairi’s friends sound as free-spirited as her, “Maybe…I could help you choose what to wear?”

She clapped her hands, a wide smile on her face and you love seeing her like this, “Perfect. I know what we’re doing tomorrow”

»»————-

The curtains of the trial room parted, and Kairi stepped out, doing a spin for you. The lights of the boutique are harsh, but Kairi looks amazing. She doesn’t dress up much — you’ve seen her entire range of dark sweaters, and graphic jackets over the weeks by now.

“Shit, you look amazing” You realised, eyes roaming her figure. A black bikini hugged her tightly, and it was the sexiest swimsuit you’d ever seen. Under the bust, two silver chains hugged her torso, sparkling under the store lights, wrapping around her navel too.

She had a smile on her lips, and she seemed satisfied with it too, “Is this the one?”

You’re in a cute boutique, it sells dresses and swimsuits and silver jewellery. It’s decorated prettily, and there’s not many people here because it’s not summer. It’s rapidly approaching winter, and in a few weeks, it’ll be Christmas.

“It’s the one” You nodded, standing up to circle around her, “You look…gorgeous. Everybody will fall in love with you”

Her smile fell at those words.

You must have said the wrong thing, “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, “Chris would love it so much. He was always hyping me up, especially when I bought new clothes because I barely ever did”

She didn’t talk about him much. In fact, this was one of the first few times she brought him up. Every time she did talk about him, it was with confidence. They had broken up ages ago, but she was never angry about it. How does she possess such ease in her, to talk of a failed love? If it was so confident, why would it end?

With trepidation, you voiced your thoughts, “Can I…ask you what happened?”

It was a shot in the dark, of course. She didn’t have to tell you the truth, and you could handle not knowing. She wasn’t surprised you’d asked. She just sat down on the boutique floor, stretching her legs onto the fluffy carpet, “Uh…it’s not that big of a deal”

You joined her, crossing your legs, touching her hand, “You can tell me, but only if you’re comfortable with that”

“Someone threatened to kill me” She chuckled.

“What?”

“It was probably an empty threat” She shrugged, “No big deal”

“But…why? What, I don’t understand?”

She tilt her head, “You know Yoko Ono?”

“John Lennon’s wife?”

She nodded, “After she got married to him, and The Beatles broke up…everybody blamed her for it. Apparently he was putting her before the music, and she was one of the reasons the band ended. Could you imagine how much people hated her? They singlehandedly blamed her for the breakup of…the most iconic band in the world”

Your brows furrowed, “But what has that got to do with you?”

“A few months ago, a paparazzi spotted Chan…at a luxury store” She breathed in. Your heart skipped a beat, watching Kairi talk.

“I guess he was…looking at engagement rings. I don’t know for sure. Maybe he was buying something for himself” She breathed, “But after the news of that came out and people realised that the Bang Chan may be getting married…”

“Oh…”

“People think I’m gonna be the Yoko Ono here” She forced a smile, “That he’s gonna get caught up in this relationship, and not pay attention to their music. That he’ll choose me over the fame”

“Kairi…I’m so sorry” You traced a soothing circle on her skin, but you had goosebumps from just listening to her, “That’s fucking unfair”

“Anyway, those pictures were the beginning of the threats. I wasn’t too concerned…because honestly, Chris is the only thing that mattered to me, if he was happy, if he was okay. As long as he was good, I would be too. But Pegasus thought they were real. And Chris…he was scared for me”

“I’d be scared too”

She let out another scoff, but she was shaking, and you could tell how much this bothered her, “So instead of marrying the love of my life…we broke up.”

Your chest wrenched, “I’m…so sorry, Kairi”

She nodded, head bending down, and squeezed your hand, “I’m sorry too. It’s stupid that the entire life me and him had planned together may not ever happen because of a few threats posted online by losers. Maybe they were real though. I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know”

“Couldn’t the company do something about it?”

She scoffed, “The company won’t do shit. They can protect Chris all they want, but they’d never step up to protect his partner. Their entire image revolves around them being single…and available. Sex sells. Their sex appeal is more important to them than his life”

It wasn’t a competition, but her heartbreak was much worse than yours. She had everything, and then she lost it. You mumbled, and you hurt for her, “It’s…not fair at all”

“Yeah. Anyway, me and Chris weren’t getting along towards the end of that. We disagreed on a lot of shit.” She nodded, lifting her head up to meet yours, “The breakup was hard on the others too. Especially Hyunjin, he…” She paused, “It’s almost like he took it personally”

The name sang to your heart, coursing through your veins like lifeblood, making your pulse quicker. “He loved the two of you together” You ended up saying.

Kairi smiled at you, “He tell you about us?”

“Yeah…he said I’d really love you”

She smiled, eyes crinkling, “He was clearly right about that”

“Can I… ask you something?” You said, and she nodded, “Do you ever think you’ll get back together?”

She smiled, “I mean, I can hope, but unfortunately…the decision would have to lie with Chris. If things go wrong, he could lose everything. I would lose nothing…except him. So in the end, it’s up to him. Right now, I think it’s impossible. In summer, a news website threatened to publish about our relationship. Chris isn’t equipped to deal with the fallout that comes with that”

“Oh…I’m sorry”

She took another breath, “Um, we should probably get off the floor before the employees sees us. It’s your turn to try on a bikini anyway”

You couldn’t understand where she conjured up all her positivity from, and you shook your head once you realised what she’d said, “Oh, no Kairi, I have a swimsuit already”

She shrugged, tugging your arm to make you stand up, “You’re going to get a new one though. It’s my birthday, you have to”

“But…” You protested, as she lightly shoved you towards the rack. Tons of bikinis hung on it, ranging from all different styles and colors. Ombre, mismatched, bejeweled. “I don’t know…” You touched the material of a blue one, wondering how you’d pick one.

“How about this lilac?” She asked, pulling a set out. It was too sexy, and too out there. It was the kind of thing Hana would force you to wear. Kairi must have noticed the drop in your expression, because she spoke, “Actually, I’m sure we can find another one”

After some looking around and a lot of nudges from her, you settled on a red bikini set. It was…beautiful. It looked like a thing you’d see on a model in a catalogue. There were metal hearts instead of strings, on either side of the underwear. You’d never be one for vanity, but right now…you could stare at yourself for hours. It fit you perfectly, like nothing else ever had, almost as if it was made for just your body, nobody else’s. When you stepped out, Kairi was patiently waiting on the ottoman. She was rocking her heels back and forth, and she still hadn’t changed out of her final pick, “Holy shit” She grinned, “We’re…gonna look so fucking hot!”

You giggled, “You’re looking forward to it, right? I wanna help your friends plan it too, if that’s okay”

She pulled you into a hug, warm arms enveloping around you. You were still in your swimsuits with the tags on, but you melted into her embrace as she mumbled, “Of course that’s okay! Plus, you’re gonna be there …so I’m not worried about anything”

»»————-

The campgrounds were beautiful, and the party was in full swing. Green grass stretched for miles, running alongside the Han river. Bordering on the outskirts of Seoul, it was far from all the noise, the pollution, and the constant ringing of the sirens. They weren’t just normal campgrounds though. Instead of cabins, there were little glass houses, hidden beneath trees with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the river, which people could book for vacation rentals all year round. Everything in the city was more boujee. Even nature. It’s like the city folk had figured a way to camp without the mosquitos and the discomfort and glamorised it, fit for celebrities and socialites.

A volleyball court was constructed on a stretch of sand, and a wooden dock extended onto the river, canoes attached to it that anybody could borrow. Pink and yellow inflatables floated down the water, occupied by some of Kairi’s friends who were already so drunk and it was only midday.

Pretty lanterns hung across poles, the only lighting for this place, and even a freaking DJ booth was set up by the bonfire. It all had a modern festival vibe, and Kairi told you that this place usually booked a lot of small rock gigs over weekends. The campgrounds were public, but she had rented out an area for the day. Her friends from work were originally supposed to be planning everything, but you were also helping them now. For someone who hated parties, you sure loved planning them. It was a perfect distraction, from the stress of classes. The venue for Felix’s birthday had been naturally beautiful, but it couldn’t compare to the extravagance of the city.

You’d driven up here in the early hours of the morning, and Jeonghan had been a boon. He’d helped you unload the crate of beers from his car, loading them into ice-cold pink coolers you’d situated every few metres across the riverbank. It was a hotter day than usual, despite the city being on the brink of imminent snowfall, so cold drinks…were a must.

Most people had arrived at the campgrounds in the late afternoon, checking in at the front-desk before making their way towards the river. Kairi had a ton of friends, most of them from work, and you weren’t the corporate type, so you maintained a little distance, choosing to be orchestrating everything behind the scenes more. That’s why you were at the barbecue right now, grilling meat for some hotdogs.

Jeonghan had long abandoned you. His red swim shorts are easy to spot, and the official dress code of this party was just swimwear. He was supposed to be helping you cook but he was stretched out on the riverbank, sketching instead. He must have been really inspired, and from where you stood, you could see him with his feet up in the sky, nose buried in a little sketchbook. It was sweet of him to come, and he was the only person you knew, so you were grateful that he was here.

A frisbee whizzed past you, and you looked up to see Kairi giggling. “Shit! I almost hit you, didn’t I?” She looked beautiful, and the silver chains on her swimsuit sparkled in the sun as she ran around the grass, indulged in a serious game of frisbee with her friends. You smiled back at her, “I’ll forgive you, but only because it’s your birthday”

Ever since she’d told you the truth of what went down between her and Chan, you’d grown fonder of her, and almost protective in a sense. She was so much stronger than you, and you could learn a little from her in terms of positivity. She had introduced you to all her friends, but they were too many names for you to remember. Sohee, Jinsoo, Eric, etc. You’d assigned yourself to the snacks, not feeling too confident in greeting her guests.

“Do you want it crispy all the way through?” You called out to her, pork belly sizzling against the pan as you tossed it. This made you feel useful. It was better to not let your mind wander, instead you filled it with little responsibilities such as this.

She ran up to the grill, frisbee still in her hands, “Why are you all the way over here?”

You gestured to the barbeque, and the plates of snacks, “Somebody’s got to feed your guests”

“They can feed themselves, Y/N. We should go in the river while the sun is still out!” She grabbed your arm, and started leading you away from the barbecue, “I’m sure Nate can take over anyway”

You weren’t going to argue with that. You’d missed swimming, and being in the water, so, you let her pull you into the river. In the cold water, surrounded by nature on all sides, it almost felt like home. Kairi swam over to you, a big smile on her face, “Fuck. The sun feels so good”

You drifted closer, smiling, “I’m glad you’re happy. It’s kind of your day, you should be”

“I’m really, really fucking grateful that dude spilled a drink on me and we met in that club bathroom…”

You laughed, clasping your hand with hers as you swam in the water together, “Well. I’m sure there’s nicer ways for us to meet”

She rolled her eyes, “No, are you kidding? That was the best one. I needed someone like you in my life”

You giggled, “Someone like me?”

“We haven’t even know each other that long, if you think about it. Honestly, I never even thought you’d text me back, because…of him” She paused, “But I think you sacrifice your peace for others, and…I don’t know anyone else like you”

You swallowed, and you didn’t want to get emotional in the middle of the river, “Kairi…tell me you didn’t bring me in the water just to make me cry”

“Actually” She corrected herself, a small chuckle following, “I did know one person like you”

You don’t have to probe to know she’s talking about Chan.

“You remind me of him. As crazy as that sounds” She hummed.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you” You apologised, and you were caressing her shoulder now, rubbing it.

She wrapped her arms around your waist, and her body felt warm against yours, “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m sorry I keep bringing him up. It’s like second nature for me. Does the same ever happen with you…?”

There can’t be a better day than today for you to move on, so you forced a smile, “No. I don’t think of Hyunjin anymore. It’s in the past…” It’s a complete lie, but one day, you’re hoping it will come true. Kairi doesn’t know everything that happened in the end and she doesn’t need too. She doesn’t know he gave up on you, all she knows…is that you don’t talk anymore.

Resignation settled in her gaze, “So…you’re completely okay with him?”

You nodded, “Yup. Anyway, um I don’t know about you but… I’m starving. Should we get the hotdogs?”

Kairi blinked but didn’t question your change of topic, “Sure. That’d be perfect”

You waded out of the water, jumping back onto the riverbank, and the air was prickly cold, but the sun was still warm in the sky. The DJ booth set up in the distance had a party playlist on repeat, and tons of people were dancing, some of Kairi’s friends, some just locals who were enjoying this area. The water droplets on your skin looked like glitter, and you ran over to the barbecue grill, dripping wet. Kairi’s friends, Sohee and Eric were indulging in a platter of pork ribs and grilled chicken, perched on a picnic table. They smiled at you as you approached them, “The water nice?”

You nodded, hugging yourself, “Mmh, you guys should get in while it’s still warm! If you guys don’t mind…could I please borrow a plate for Kairi?”

“Of course. Help yourself” Sohee smiled, black sunglasses resting on her head, and she was in a white one-piece swimsuit, “You’re…Kairi’s artist friend, aren’t you? We’ve heard a lot about you”

You laughed, flushing, “I hope good things”

Eric laughed, “You bet. Hey, we’re playing volleyball later, if you wanna join?”

You grabbed a plate of the sausages and bulgogi, “That sounds cool. I’m a terrible shot but I might join!” They laughed and you picked up some disposable cutlery, heading back to Kairi.

She was out of the water now, sunbathing on the grass and Jeonghan sat at her side.

“I got you some meat” You handed her the plate, balancing it on her stomach. Her arms were stretched behind her head, and she squinted under the sun at you, “Thanks, baby”

The term of endearment brought a flush up your chest, and you sat cross-legged next to her. It was crazy how fast you’d grown fond of each other, as if you were always destined to be such good friends. As you ate off her plate, Jeonghan brought you a couple of drinks. It seemed like he’d finally abandoned his sketchbook in favour of enjoying the place around him. Jeonghan yawned loudly, “This weather makes me want to take a nap”

“Well, I really don’t mind if you do” Kairi suggested to him.

Jeonghan laughed, “Really? I wouldn’t be the lamest person at this party?”

“You won that title hours ago” You joked. Jeonghan gasped dramatically, and lightly shoved you, “It’s rude that you’re not my self-proclaimed hype girl”

You pushed your sunglasses up your head, staring at him and trying not to laugh, “I’m sorry…your what?”

He blew a puff of air, and laid his head on your lap, “You know…I’m like always hyping you up in class. Making you laugh when you’re miserable—no offence— and even rescuing you from pathetic blind dates. You’re not gonna do the same for me?” He bit into a sausage, sauce smeared across his lips.

“You’re such a messy eater” You commented.

His eyes were closed and he smiled, “You can lick it off me, if it’s bothering you”

Kairi sat up, laughing, “What is going on with you two?”

You shook your head, “Nothing. He flirts with me when he’s drunk”

It was rapidly approaching nightfall, and that’s what you hated the most about winter: shorter days, longer nights. The sun set behind the forest, settling warm rays on your skin, drying the water from your swim off.

You smiled, indulging in this moment, wishing every day could be the same. You were in a beautiful place, with new friends and this could be your blank slate. Tonight could mark what you and Kairi had talked about – a real, fresh start. For the first time in weeks, your chest didn’t hurt.

»»————-

You knew you were terrible at coordinated sports, and it became obvious to everyone else too when you missed the fifth volleyball headed your way. Eric on the other team, did a fist-bump with his teammate at your loss, and Sohee sighed, “Just catch one, Y/N!”

You threw your hands up, a giggle escaping you, “You guys asked me to join. I told you I’m horrible at this stuff!” There were two teams, and the one with you was… horribly failing. Nobody took it too seriously so it was okay, it was for fun. It was just insane to you that you were playing volleyball next to the freaking river with strangers in Seoul. If past you found out about it, she’d absolutely freak out. You were counting every blessing, grateful to be here in the city, and you were making the most of tonight. You’d made Jeonghan join with you, and he was on the other team. Kairi was somewhere by the bonfire, dancing, and you could her loud singing along all the way over here.

“Just try to catch this next one, okay?” Jeonghan called at you over the net.

You were horrible at bowling too, but Seungmin had taught you once and after that you hadn’t been half as bad. All you had to do was focus, and channel all your built-up energy into shooting the ball, not get distracted by every other thing happening. You’d seen Sohee shoot enough successful ones to try to imitate her. So, you stepped up, rooting your feet in the sand, and she was cheering you on in the background. You didn’t even know her, so it was funny that she cared this much.

Jeonghan across the fence tossed the ball towards you. You don’t know what prompted you to jump, and this time you actually hit it with all the energy you could muster, your fist making contact with the ball, and it shocked Jeonghan so much that he forgot to serve entirely. “Are you kidding me?” He cried, crawling under the net to run up to you. He pulled you into a hug, arms wrapping around your body, “I knew you had it in you! All you needed was a little bit of humiliation to get you there”

“I barely hit!” You giggled, hugging him back, and his torso was warm to the touch, “And you’re supposed to be on the other team, but…thanks”

He rolled his eyes, holding you tight in his grip, “I’ll gladly let you win any day”

He was so touchy tonight. It must be the mix of alcohol, adrenaline and being away from the stresses of the art studio. His hand lingered on your waist, drifting close to your ass but you didn’t stop him. It was silly because you weren’t even into sports, you didn’t care about this volleyball game, but you were smiling widely, and it wasn’t forced.

Jeonghan let go of you, steadying you on the sand, and in your happy daze, you got up on your toes and kissed him, threading your hands through his hair. It was frizzy from the wind, and you settled on the nape of his neck. He smiled into the kiss, pressing your body to his, and he was only in his little swim-shorts, and you were only in your bikini so most of your skin touched his. It was a strange feeling, to be so physically close to somebody who wasn’t Hyunjin, but that would never happen again, and to curb the hurt, you kissed him deeper.

Sohee was laughing in the background, “You guys know the game isn’t over yet, right?”

This kiss didn’t mean anything, yet it meant everything. It meant that you could let go. Hyunjin didn’t want you in his life, and one day you’d be okay with that. Right now, you had to live in this moment. You wound your arms tighter around Jeonghan’s neck, and you kissed him deeply, and he was probably surprised that you were giving in so much, because he knew this wasn’t anything special. You surprised yourself too.

Kairi calling your name is what made you pull away from him, cheeks flushed with adrenaline. She was walking over to you, and you ran up to her, across the makeshift volleyball court, “Babe! Did you see me hit that ball?”

She looked like she’d seen a ghost though, and she reached for your hand, “Y/N. I need you, please”

“Wait, what’s wrong?” You frowned, stepping out with her.

She was fumbling over her words, “He’s here. Y/N. He’s here” Her eyes were wide in despair. She looked like she was going to cry, staccato mumbling, “I don’t know what to do”

You grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the game, You’d never seen her in such a state, “Kairi, please calm down. Who’s here? What’s going on?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear spilling out, “Chan…Chan is here”

Fucking hell.

“Hey, hey, hey. Kairi, I need you to calm down, okay?”

Your heart had dropped into your gut, but you had to be there for her. She was breathing heavy, and her eyes were filling up with tears, smudging her mascara and her silver eyeliner, “I don’t know what to do. If I talk to him, I’ll end up doing something stupid, like kiss him or something”

You grabbed her gently by the shoulders, so she could look only at you and not be stimulated by the rest of the party, “I’m gonna handle it, okay? Kairi. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to do anything”

Her eyes were wide, “What? You will? Are…are you sure?”

“Of course. It’s Chris, I got this” You held her chin, fingers caressing her jaw, “Today is your day. I don’t want you to stress about anything”

She let out a breath, a tear escaping, “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry, I just got really overwhelmed, I wasn’t expecting to see him and…I don’t know if he knows I’m even here”

“What do you want me to say to him?”

“Just…don’t send him away. I don’t want him to get hurt. But please…find out why he’s here. I’m so…fucking confused. Why today? What does he want?”

“I’ll talk to him” You looked around, eyes landing on a concerned Jeonghan. He was still playing the game, but his focus was on the two of you, “Can you go hang out with Jeonghan till then?”

She nodded absentmindedly, seemingly so lost, “Thank you...Fuck, I just…don’t know how to deal with this right now”

“Jeonghan?” You called out, and it only took him a second to abandon the game and run up to you. His eyes observed Kairi’s fragile state, “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Can you take her to the dock? I’ll catch you there in a bit, okay?”

He glanced at her, no questions asked, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Of course, no problem” He smiled at you, a dazzling grin that told you he’d take care of it, “Catch you in a few”

Then he took her away, leading her towards the other side of the campgrounds. The dock was nearer to the woods, hidden between the trees and the rocks, away from Chan. You’re sure the physical distance from the rest of the party would help Kairi calm a bit. You glanced at the volleyball game. They were all standing and waiting for you. Sohee had her hands on her hips, “You coming back?”

“I’m gonna have to ditch the game, sorry! Win for me, okay?” You shot her a smile.

“We’re gonna kick your ass, Y/N!” Eric yelled across. You laughed, waving them a goodbye as you walked over to the bonfire. That’s where Kairi said she saw him. You couldn’t understand. Why would Chan be here, and how had he heard about this party? Things between them had long ended, and there was no logical reason for him to come here suddenly. You were proud of yourself for staying calm though. Kairi was what mattered tonight, and you could easily deal with her ex.

There was a dance party situation happening around the fire. Everyone had congregated near it, and the DJ had long given up on playing good songs, settling for dance club music instead. From here, you could see the bonfire. One of Kairi’s friends, Jinsoo ran up to you, “Y/N, hey! Do you know where the rest of the beer is?’

You stopped to explain, you’d somehow become the unofficial host for this party and everyone must have noticed how close you and Kairi were. “Um, it should be in a pink cooler. We unloaded near the cabins”

“Great, thanks!” She smiled at you, running back there. Your eyes scanned the crowd around the fire. The sand here was warm, and it felt so good between your toes. Everybody was drinking, and dancing, making it harder for you to find him. You’d never seen Chan in person, but you’d seen so many pictures of him. It’d be second nature to recognise him.

Then, you spotted a boy by the fire, gaze frantically looking around the campgrounds, and you stepped up to him, making your way through the people dancing.

He was in a black sweatshirt, and dark jeans and he stood out, surrounded by girls in bright-colored bikinis, and boys in expensive swim-shorts. There was no telling from his stature that he was someone famous, which is probably why none of the guests were giving him a second look. You wonder if any of Kairi’s friends had ever known about their relationship. You weren’t nervous about this interaction, even though you should be. This was Hyunjin’s best friend. Why were you not freaking out? Maybe because you’d do anything to make sure Kairi had a good night.

“Chris?” You asked, voice low. You didn’t want to spook him.

At hearing his name, he turned to face you. Your heart jumped at the sight. He was beautiful in person. None of the pictures could do him justice. In the pictures, he had stage makeup and styled hair. Right now, natural curls fell into his face, and he looked so simple, like any other guy you’d pass by on the street.

“Hey. You’re Chris, right?” You spoke, and the only thing making you nervous was him looking right into your eyes, “I’m uh…I’m one of Kairi’s friends.” It was best to not say your name. His gaze was…very intense but you had to keep cool for her, so you smiled. A genuine, warm, smile.

The tension in his shoulders dissipated as understanding settled in his face, and he stepped up to you, clearing his throat, “Hey. Um, I go by Chan actually”

“Chan…” You repeated, smiling at him, fiddling with your fingers, “I wasn’t really expecting you to show up”

He sighed, hands in his pockets, “I know… I’m not on the guest list”

“She didn’t know you’re coming tonight”

“I wasn’t planning to” He answered, taking in another breath, and his voice was shaky, “I came straight from the studio. I drove…three straight hours to get here, on a whim. I know I’m not dressed for the party, but I need to see her right now”

Oh, wow… You hope you didn’t sound rude but this was in her best interest, so you said, “I’m sorry…I don’t know how to say this… but she’s not feeling great about this. How did you even know about the party?”

He was about to answer but it’s like he couldn’t find the words, struggling. Had he come here just to wish her for her birthday? It was hugely romantic, but there must be more he wanted to say. What would make him drive all the way here?

“Channie, she is not by the cabins either!” Someone yelled out.

You would recognize that voice anywhere.

Your heart stopped beating.

Within seconds, somebody came running up through the shadows of the trees. The air left your body, and you couldn’t breathe.

Hyunjin.

He stepped out into the light and all of the noise around you died.

The waves of the river were suddenly quiet, the forest was mute, the music was silent. Only your pulse ringing in your ears.

He was here. He was here. He was here.

Immediately, his gaze landed on you, and he stopped still in his footsteps.

There was no hiding his surprise. There was no pretending, or feigning of emotions. His mouth parted, eyebrows shooting up, eyes wide as he saw you.

Vision blackening, clouding, blurring, you could only see him in the centre, and your gut started squeezing you from the inside out.

Dark hair tied up into a bun, half of it hanging to his shoulders, he looked like he always did. Fucking unreal. He was dressed so simply, black sweater blending into the darkness. He got prettier each time you laid eyes on him. So fucking beautiful and you hated him for it.

His eyes were on yours, thick lips parted in shock, and it was cruel how your heart leapt out of your chest, as if you hadn’t been training to tame it all this while. The last time you saw him… flashed through your mind, memories pricking at you like a hundred thousand needles stabbing into your body. He left you, before you even had a chance. He didn’t even know you loved him.

You’d been trying so hard to move on, but here he fucking was, the one place you didn’t think he could be.

But you needed to be strong, for Kairi. This was all for her, and she was your saving grace. So you looked away from him, even if it took all of your fucking willpower. Your gaze found Chan, and suddenly the noises were back. The party was raging, the river was loud, the forest full of cacophony. Chan was saying your name repeatedly, and you’d tuned out completely. So had Hyunjin it seemed…because he snapped back to reality, a click going off in his head, and turned to his friend.

Chan stepped closer to you, “You’re Y/N…?”

You nodded, no words escaping at him recognising you. You’d been recognised. Of course you had. You and Hyunjin had been fucking staring at each like fools. It was a dead giveaway.

“I need to see her, Y/N.”

You ignored the peripheral gaze burning in the side of your face. Don’t fucking look at him. You stared right at Chan, “Chan, I can’t…”

“There’s something I need to say to her…and after that I’ll leave, I promise you” There was desperation in his voice, one you’d felt all these months.

It was the most difficult thing to not look at Hyunjin, when he was fucking staring at you. He’d always had your entire attention, any room he was in but right now you couldn’t afford to do that. It was so hard for you to ignore him, but it had been so easy for him before. You could do that to him too.

“I don’t know. She’s…really upset” You turned around, glancing over at the dock, then back at him, “Why tonight? She wants to talk to you, but—”

“I know you’re just trying to do right by her. Something I should have been doing all this time” He closed his eyes, “I understand if you’re gonna ask me to leave, but I promise you. If she says she doesn’t wanna see me, I’ll walk right out.”

You shook your head, guilt overwhelming you, “Chan—”

He continued speaking over you, “But if you’ve ever been in love, or…or loved someone, you’d understand why this is so fucking important to me”

You stared at him, lost for words. If you’d ever been in love…?

Hyunjin’s gaze on you was stronger than ever. It burned you.

He had said nothing this whole time. What was he thinking? You wanted to climb into his brain, read his mind and know what he thought of this question. Did Hyunjin have any fucking idea how much you loved him? You were so stupid crazy in love, you missed his silence too. And did Chan even understand the significance of what he was asking you? All of your emotions were cascading on top of each other, and the sane part of you was drowning in the waves. It was hard to speak, but you finally found the words, “She’s… by the docks. You can find her there”

They were the right words because Chan’s eyes lit up instantly, a smile spreading on his face, and he was beautiful like this, a warmth and comfort emanating from him. He was prettier when happy, and it looked like he couldn’t believe you’d said yes, “Thank you. Shit, thank you, Y/N. You’re an angel” He turned to Hyunjin, “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Hyunjin asked him. His voice sent shivers down your spine.

“No, I…got this” Chan swallowed, and he suddenly looked nervous and doubtful of this.

Hyunjin stepped close to him, voice dropping, “It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine”

Chan nodded, eyes closed, “I’m just…fucking anxious. What if she asks me to leave?”

“Channie” Hyunjin repeated, in a low voice, hand landing on his shoulder, “I’m right here if you need me, okay?”

He took a deep breath, and Hyunjin pulled him into a half-hug. You stood by, unsure what to do, staring at them. You were still trying to wrap your head around whatever the fuck was happening right now. In seconds, Chan took off towards the dock, where you’d told him Kairi was. You watched his retreating figure, hoping you made the right choice. He seemed genuinely apologetic, for whatever had went down between him and her.

His departure… left you and Hyunjin by the bonfire. Just by yourselves. So, you finally looked at him.

He was staring at you.

In the glow of the embers, Hyunjin looked almost sinister, he looked dangerous in the way that you wanted him, even now. Dark shadows cutting across his face, he’d only grown more into the version of him you’d ran into the storage closet. Taller stature, stronger arms, piercing gaze.

You suddenly felt conscious…being in this tiny swimsuit, and your arms came up around yourself to cover up somehow. It hurt too much to see him this close, after everything that had happened. You’d been giving up your soul to forget him, and he’d just decided to show up, now? It was unfair. You had to be the bigger person here, and you were going to leave. You didn’t owe him a conversation, not after he’d shown you how easy it was for him to forget all about existence.

So, you turned to walk away, but then Hyunjin spoke, “I didn’t know you were going to be here”

At first, you almost didn’t hear him, over the music, over the laughter, over the river. You stopped in your tracks, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing he’d never spoken.

You didn’t look at him as you mumbled, “Yeah…you wouldn’t be here if you knew”

It came out more venomous than you wanted, and you didn’t wait to see his reaction. But he asked you, “What are you doing here then?”

You turned to look at him, and fuck it hurt every bit of you. You hope you had a stable tone, arms crossed across your chest, because how the hell could he ask you that? “I’m… kind of the host”

His eyes widened, genuine surprise in it, “You are…?”

Well, he would’ve known that if he’d let you be in his life. Why had he pushed you away? Why had he not even tried to keep in touch with you? Was cutting off all contact the only way he knew how?

“I have to go” You mumbled, feeling hurt all over again, “There’s drinks in the corner if you want”

Hyunjin began to say something, but he was stopped because somebody yelled your name, interrupting whatever he could have said. What was Hyunjin going to say?

Jeonghan ran over to you, laughing, oblivious to everything around him, “You know Sohee’s going around saying you abandoned her during the game?"

You blinked, looking up at him, “She knew we weren’t going to win anyway”

He laughed loudly, and he was clearly tipsy by the way he talked, “What can I say? You’re a very wanted woman tonight, like five people stopped to ask me where you were. Also, you do remember that you’re the only person I know at this party? You can’t just leave me alone. I might actually end up missing you”

“Right, I forgot” You stifled a smile, “I was doing something for Kairi. Speaking of which…you left her alone?”

“I’m sorry…” He sighed, “There was this dude that wanted to talk to her…she asked me to leave them. And, I did not come tonight to babysit her. I’ve only met her like one time!”

You laughed, “Really? It is her birthday, Nate. What did you come here for then? ”

He shook his head, smiling, “Oh, being coy suits you, Y/N. It’s sexy”

“What?” You laughed. Before you could even register it, he wrapped his arms around you, picking you up in a little spin and twirl. A surprised noise escaped you, and your hands came to brace yourself against his bare chest. He was grinning at you, completely oblivious to the fact that someone was watching you. You almost forgot where you were, and who was watching, a giggle escaping you. “Nate—” You mumbled, pulling away, hands on his chest.

“What?” He frowned, and only then he saw Hyunjin standing there, watching all of this take place. “Oh…hey, man” Jeonghan smiled at him, “Wow…you are way too overdressed for this party. Take your shirt off or something”

Hyunjin’s gaze was on the arm around your waist. There was an unrecognisable emotion in his eyes. You’d seen jealousy on him before and this wasn’t it. This… was something else entirely. An emotion so intense that you felt scared of what he was holding inside.

He was frowning, furrow in his forehead, and then he glanced at you, a sudden indifference in his voice, “Where did you say the drinks were again?”

You swallowed, “By the cabins…”

“Oh, I can show you” Jeonghan offered, and you wish he wasn’t so nice to everybody.

Hyunjin’s brows shot up at the suggestion, and you were afraid he’d say something mean, but of course Hyunjin wasn’t mean, so he forced a smile, “Cool. Sure”

Jeonghan began walking away with him, and your grip on his hand was tight, you yanked him back, whispering, “What do you think you’re doing?”

He smiled, whispering back, “Relax. Just showing some hospitality. Also I think that guy’s famous”

You sighed, closing your eyes, because he was impossible to argue with, “Fine, but…get me a drink too”

“Will do” He grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. You watched them walk away, and you could hear Jeonghan say, “I’m Nate by the way, only she’s allowed to call me Jeonghan. Don’t ask me why though”

You couldn’t pick up on what Hyunjin said in response and you itched to know, but…you had to hold back. You stood still, feet rooted to the sand as Jeonghan led Hyunjin to the cabins, and the coolers that lay there, filled with beers. You couldn’t watch for long, because somebody grabbed your arm, turning you around, “Why are you by yourself?” Sohee, from the volleyball game asked, “Come on, you can dance with us!”

“I’m not in the mood, sorry” You apologised, walking away from the fire. What would they talk about? You hope Jeonghan didn’t bring up how miserable and depressed you’d been this whole time. Would Hyunjin talk about youto him? Would he ask him what you and Jeonghan were? Did he…even care?

Sohee laughed, “What? Shut up. You’re dancing with us. You already ditched us in the game”

“I think I’m just gonna go get a drink” You tried to decline, as politely as you could, without being a spoilsport or a downer. She stopped you, hand on your wrist, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…don’t wanna dance. I’m sorry” You gently pulled your arm out of her grip, walking nearer to the river. You could already feel it. All of the progress you’d made all these months was reversing. You were going back in time against your will. What had all this happiness been for, if it was just going to be ripped from you in an instant? How could you ever fucking say you moved on when seeing him for a second changed your mind?

You thought you were stronger than this, but you were so fucking weak, falling back into an emotion you didn’t need. Self-loathing and sadness and wishing you were enough for him was staring you in the eyes, and you thought you’d left it all behind. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You…had plans, to feel better, to move the fuck on. Kairi and Chan were nowhere to be seen, and it was past midnight already. She hadn’t even cut the birthday cake yet. You’d made Jeonghan drive you all the way to that special bakery for nothing. Why would Chan show up uninvited on such a special night? Why the fuck would he bring Hyunjin with him?

You ran your hands over your face. Every breath was harder to catch, and you felt like you’d pass out if you stayed standing. A tear slipped into your mouth, and you tasted the glitter mascara that Kairi had put on you. Kairi. You were going to find her…and you’d make sure she still had a good night, regardless of her ex gatecrashing the fucking party. Chan was a lovely person, you’re sure he was, but this was not the time. If he wanted to come so bad, he should’ve just come alone and not brought Hyunjin.

You looked back towards the fire, where Sohee was twirling around with the others, laughing loudly, so drunk and so happy. Jeonghan was back there too, he stood watching the girls dance, but Hyunjin wasn’t with him.

Did he leave? Where was he?

Your eyes scanned the crowd so fast, trying to place him amongst the crowd.

“I thought you hate beer”

You jumped, startled by the sound.

Hyunjin stood behind you, holding a beer bottle in his hand, extended out to you. How had you missed him walking over to you?

“What?”

He seemed confused, hand outstretched, “You…hated beer, right?”

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged, nonchalant, “You asked Nate to bring you a drink. He…wanted to dance instead, he asked me to bring it to you”

You laughed, bitterly, “And what, you work for him now?”

Why the fuck would he willingly approach you? After forcing you to get out of his life? Pretending like everything was normal? Acting like he hadn’t devastated you entirely, and broken you down. He didn’t even apologise for the way he’d kissed you and pushed you away. He still didn’t fucking realise what he meant to you, and he never would.

Hyunjin’s tongue poked his cheek, and he said, “No. I was trying to be away from the crowd”

You released a breath, “Well, congratulations, now you are. I’m gonna go”

“Wait—” He called out.

You stopped, “What, Hyunjin?”

He swallowed, “Aren’t you gonna take your drink?”

You should walk away from this conversation right fucking now, but you felt angry. Did he know you’d been suffering so much because of him? Did he know you’d given up on love and resigned yourself to a miserable fucking existence, because of him? How could he act so normal?

“You know what?” You forced a smile, “You can have it. You’ve already ruined tonight for Kairi. You might as well for me too”

“Excuse me?” His features contorted into a frown, as if he couldn’t believe you were bringing it up, “It wasn’t my idea to show up here”

“So what…you came as moral support or something?”

“Chan needed me” He stated, with finality.

“Well” You laughed, “You’re a great friend then. Are you even allowed to be at this party? Isn’t that gonna be a problem for you?”

His lips were in a thin line, “You’re angry”

“No” You laughed, so bitter, so petty, “Just concerned. Actually I am gonna take that drink” You grabbed it out of his hands, pulling with more force than needed, making sure none of your fingers touched any of his. Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed, and he would hate you now if he didn’t already, but that was fine. He didn’t want you anyway.

Jeonghan’s yell interrupted you two, “Y/N! Come on. It’s your favourite song!”

You turned back to them, realising that indeed a song you’d liked in a club once was playing. It wasn’t your favourite song, far from it, but you wanted to be away from Hyunjin. You were losing yourself so near him.

So you glanced at Hyunjin, lifted the beer bottle to your lips, and drops of alcohol dripped down your neck and chest, into your bikini top, messily, “Thanks for the drink”

Jeonghan basically pulled you into the circle, as the chorus came on. You let him. You chugged the rest of the beer, because there was no way you were doing this sober anymore. Jeonghan was fucking tipsy, so he spun you around, and if it wasn’t for his arm around you, you’d fall over into the sand. Somebody handed you a shot of tequila, and you drank that too. The music was loud enough so you couldn’t think, EDM beats playing over and over, making your heart vibrate against your ribs. You wanted to laugh, because everything was so horrible. Sohee was a good hype girl, cheering on for you, grinding her hips against a taller boy, and everyone was lost in the music.

As the song picked up tempo, your hands met Jeonghan’s and he helped you move with an exhilarating speed and you couldn’t even breathe, head spinning. He wasn’t a great dancer, but he was holding you tight, moving your body against his, and it was good to feel desired, “You look so fucking sexy” Jeonghan mumbled into your ear, “You should wear pink more often”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s red…Nate”

“Huh. Maybe I should get a closer look at it then”

“What?” You laughed as he suddenly leaned in, kissing your neck, and collarbones. His other hand dropped to your ass, squeezing it tightly. You couldn’t find it in you to feel shy because nobody was looking at you anyway. Everybody was too busy dancing, or too drunk. Hyunjin had probably realised his mistake and long left. You hope he’d fucking left. You didn’t want to see him again tonight. In the centre of the circle, Jeonghan was bent over you, pressing kisses to your body. Your arms rest on his biceps, as he kissed your neck, “You’re so beautiful when you laugh. I wish you were happier like this more often”

Oh, the irony. If only he knew you’d never been this sad in your life before. Knowing Hyunjin was here, so close yet so far. He was here, but he wasn’t here with you. What was the point…of anything? Weeks and months of moving on. Everything was useless. Hyunjin had to be there, everytime, haunting you like a demon, following in your shadows for the rest of your life.

“Y/N…” Jeonghan asked, head buried in your neck, realising you were standing still, deadweight, “What’s wrong?”

You’d gone on a date, you had a friend you casually made out with, you were in the best art studio in your country. You were so unhappy. What was the point?

It was like there a string on his chest, tying him to you, bringing you together even when you couldn’t be. Even when he didn’t want to be.

“Nothing” You swallowed, tears shooting up to your eyes, “Can you just kiss me and not ask me anything?”

He frowned, and it was hard to hear him over the loud music, “No…Y/N. Tell me if you’re okay. Do you want some air? Water?”

“I just want you to kiss me and not ask why”

So, almost reluctantly, he did. He leaned in, pressing his mouth to yours and you hoped it’d distract you. You wanted to get lost in it, and you brought your palms up to his face, to his hair, running through it. You’d never kissed him for so long, or with so much emotion. It had always been so casual, for fun, no strings, nothing.

For just a second, you opened your eyes. You wish you hadn’t.

Over Jeonghan’s shoulder, there was a direct line of sight to Hyunjin.

He was still standing by the river, staring out into the darkness, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other lifting a beer bottle to his lips. He was still here. Right where you’d left him.

Why wouldn’t he leave? There was a path straight to him, people parted like the red sea, the taut string of fate between you working harder than ever.

You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on kissing the boy who actually cared for you, but when your eyes flickered open again, Hyunjin was watching you.

It should have been obvious, but you were still surprised…to see him stare. Your heart hurt so much you thought you’d collapse. He didn’t want you in his life anymore. He’d made it plenty clear.

Then why did he look so fucking sad watching you kiss another man?

The party was raging, you were dying. Each press to Jeonghan’s lips made you sick. He kept spinning you around, and you were getting dizzy. Every few seconds, your eyes would fall on Hyunjin. Everything but him was blurred. Your insides hurt, and he was looking at you and you were looking at him but you were dancing with another man. Was this how it felt like to be dying? Jeonghan was giggling about something, and he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. You didn’t hear it, because Hyunjin had turned away from you now, like all of this was beneath him. As if being here was the greatest inconvenience of his life.

He was walking away. He’d probably had enough of your dancing.

He’d had enough of you.

“Y/N…hello?” Jeonghan snapped a finger in front of your face.

“I’m going to be sick” You mumbled.

His eyes widened, “What? Did you drink too much?”

“No. I just…I need some air” You stepped back from him.

“Should I come with you?”

“I’m fine” You shook your head, looking around, “You should dance with Sohee…till I’m back. ”

Before he could protest or respond, you walked away, towards the river. Kairi was nowhere to be found, at her own birthday party. It was all his fault. You had to go find her. What if she had a fight with Chan and needed you?

The alcohol had gotten to your head. You shouldn’t have chugged that beer, and that tequila and that last shot of vodka. Slowly, but steadily you made your way towards the dock. Her birthday cake was rotting in the car. Was it so hard to ask for just one good night?

He had to ruin that too, just like he’d ruined the idea of love for you. You could never love anybody, ever again, not in this same way.

You walked until you caught up to him. Thankfully, there was nobody else here. Everybody was either in the cabins, or dancing. Hyunjin was pacing back and forth, on his fucking phone as if he was too good for this place. The question left your mouth before you could rethink it, “What does Chan want?”

He looked up at you, eyes drifting over your figure briefly, voice small, “What?”

“It’s been an hour. She’s not back yet” You stated, as if it was obvious, “In case you didn’t know, she turned twenty-four today, and this entire party is for her. So why is he here, Hyunjin?” You stepped closer to him.

He clicked his phone off, the number he never shared with you, and put it in his pocket, “Um… I don’t know if it’s my discretion to tell you”

You stared at him. You were so past begging to be included in his life. You nodded, a scoff escaping, “Yeah, sorry I asked. I don’t know what I was thinking”

Turning towards the dock, you only made it about five steps away from Hyunjin when he called out, “Wait—I didn’t mean it like that”

You turned to face him, and there was fire in your eyes, there was fire in your veins, “Then what did you mean, Hyunjin?”

Something flashed through his eyes when you said his name, like he also couldn’t believe he was talking to you. “Um. Do you… remember what I told you at the Château?” He asked. The familiarity of those memories flooded through you, like a tsunami. You remembered every single word, you remember each breath he took, each touch. You remember every ridge and curve in his hand, as he held yours. You remembered how many times he pressed his lips to yours, and how loud he’d moaned when you touched him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Hyunjin tilt his head, “About… how they’ve been together for two years now? About how Chan had planned to ask Kairi to marry him…on her birthday?”

Your eyes narrowed as the realisation sank into you, “You’re kidding me. Is that what he’s doing right now? He’s literally going to ruin her—”

Hyunjin stepped forward, “No, he’s not doing that! But he just needed to talk to her about it. He’s just here to make things right with her” He explained, emphasising each word.

“Why?”

Hyunjin seemed confused, “Why, what?”

“Why now? He couldn’t have picked another day?” You sounded so harsh, but you didn’t care. Yeah, maybe you were pissed that Chan was willing to go to all this fucking effort for the girl he loved. But nobody would ever make any effort for you. You were pissed that Kairi was the one good thing you had left, but now Hyunjin’s life was ripping her away from you too.

He didn’t seem fazed though, and he seemed just as confused as you, “I don’t know, Y/N! I tried to talk him out of it. That it wasn’t a good idea”

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “Well you clearly didn’t do a good job, because he’s here right now anyway”

“What do you want me to do? I tried my best!”

“Well, you should have tried harder, Hyunjin!”

He let out a deep breath, running a hand over his face, “Why are you fighting me?”

You took a step back, “Right. I forgot I’m not allowed to be near you”

His eyes narrowed, “Excuse me?”

“Never mind. I’m going to go see if she’s okay or if she needs me”

He frowned, stepping in front of you, “You can’t just interrupt them. What if they’re having a moment?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. This was a fucking disaster, “He better not be proposing”

Hyunjin’s voice dropped, “Why? Wouldn’t you be happy for them?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Hyunjin. I would be happy. Obviously I’d be fucking happy. But Kairi loves him too much. She told me everything that happened. She would just get hurt again when he chooses the company over her.”

Hyunjin was quiet, eyes flickering over yours, voice dropping, “Is… that what you think I did?”

Your voice had lost its energy too, and you stared at him, “I’m not talking about—”

“Because that’s not what I did, Y/N”

You looked up at him, but you were shaking, “This is about her, not me”

He didn’t say anything. For a few seconds, you were both just staring at each other.

He sighed and chose to speak first, “Chan would never hurt her. Their decision to break up was mutual”

Unlike how things happened with you. “Yeah. I understand”

“It’s not just you. I’m worried about Chan too” He ran a hand through his hair. This was not the time to create a scene in public, so you curbed your anger, shoving it deep inside. He cared about Chan, and you cared about Kairi. That’s the only reason you were still here, and still talking to him. It was the only fucking reason you’d talk to him tonight.

“I can’t believe it’s her birthday and she’s not even here” You mumbled, “All of this was for nothing then. I hope she’s not upset or crying somewhere in a corner”

For the first time this night, Hyunijn looked a tad guilty, brows furrowing, “Do you want to go check on them…?”

You hugged yourself tighter, the wind was picking up quickly, “I thought you just said we can’t interrupt them”

“We won’t”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Isn’t there another place we can see the docks from…without interrupting them? To see how they’re doing…”

You ran a mental image of the campgrounds in your head, “Yeah, there is…”

And so, Hyunjin followed you.

There was a clearing in the forest, a thick cover of trees that looked right out onto the docks. You’d seen it back when you came to scope out of the place with Kairi. You were taking him there. You focused on the sound of your footsteps, and on the party you were leaving behind.

“So…what changed? Why did he pick today?” You surprised yourself by speaking first.

Hyunjin seemed surprised too, and he glanced at you, “Um…I don’t really know. We were working on a few songs last night…and it’s like Chan had some great epiphany”

“Oh”

There were people swimming in the Han river, some of them were skinny dipping too, and Hyunjin averted his eyes as you passed them. It was so strange to be here, and talk to him, like everything was okay. His tall frame so close to you again, and he took longer strides than you but right now he was slowing down to keep up. You made sure there was enough distance between the two of you so your arms wouldn’t accidently brush. It was funny. Months ago, you used to pray for this to happen, to be alone with him, to have a reason to talk to him, and to accidently touch him.

You tried to look for Chan and Kairi against the landscape, but they were too far so all you had was to settle for Hyunjin’s momentary glances on you. “You’re good at these” He suddenly said.

“Sorry?” You looked at him.

He looked around, making a noncommittal gesture, “Birthday parties. You planned everything, right?”

“I guess. It wasn’t all me”

“You…always outdo yourself”

You looked up at him, from the corner of your eye, “I had help. I didn’t organise it on my own”

“I know…but I’ve seen how passionate you are about these things. The food…the music…it’s all very you”

You swallowed, wondering why he was deciding to be civil all of a sudden, or maybe he’d been civil all along and you were the one creating a fucking scene, “Thank you…”

“It reminds me of the beach party, for Felix’s birthday. That one…was so good too”

“Well, at least if things don’t work out with my art, maybe I can become a party planner” You mumbled.

Hyunjin laughed. He actually laughed. It was between a giggle and a chuckle and you looked up at him in surprise. He covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to agree with you. Things will obviously work out. You’re a great artist”

You couldn’t handle seeing him like this. Eyes crinkled, a real smile. Was he not miserable without you? You looked back at your feet, arms crossed over your chest, “Yup”

“So…is he your boyfriend?”

You looked up, “Sorry?”

Hyunjin seemed nonchalant as he asked, “Nate. The boy you were dancing with” His eyebrows were knitted together, as if he actually even cared if that was your boyfriend or not.

“We’re here” You told him, choosing not to answer, pointing to a clearing in the trees, “You can see the dock right through there”

Hyunjin stepped ahead, forest leaves crunching under his feet as he did so. There was a pile of rocks and big boulders overlooking the river. Your view was being blocked by them, and you couldn’t see anything from here.

“I’m just gonna climb up and check if we can see anything from there” He told you, and before you could tell him it was a bad idea, Hyunjin jumped up, easily climbing onto a boulder. It looked so easy for him.

You stood at the bottom, trying to warm yourself. You should have brought a coverup because the wind here was so strong, and you were half-naked. From where Hyunjin stood, he must have a clear view of the entire campground, a good vantage point…for spying on people, like you were now. He could see over the bushes, and you couldn’t, so you asked him, “Can you see them?”

Hyunjin responded, eyes in the distant, “Yeah I can”

“And…? Does she look upset? Are they fighting?”

Hyunjin was silent. You couldn’t see anything from down here, and you were frustrated. “Hyunjin…?” You whisper-yelled.

“Come up. You can see for yourself” He suggested, very unhelpful.

“I’m not wearing shoes. I can’t climb up rocks”

“I’ll help you” He said, turning to face you.

You looked up at him, and his hand was extended out to you. Did you really want his help? But you wanted to see for yourself. You didn’t trust him in the moment. So, you gave in, “Okay”

You grabbed his hand, only for the support, but a bolt of lightning travelled through you, through your entire body. You felt on fire, hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart skipped beats, and all you were doing was touching Hyunjin’s hand. It was so warm. His palm was baby-soft, like he’d been taking good care of himself, of his skin.

You tried not to let the shivers affect you. He bent down and mumbled, “Keep your foot here, and I’ll help with the rest okay?”

You climbed up onto a ledge, with sharp rocks jutting out, “If you drop me…”

“I won’t”

“Here goes nothing” You mumbled, keeping your foot on the ledge for balance, hoping you didn’t fall and embarrass yourself. Hyunjin pulled you up, tugging at your arm. You stood head-on, face inches from his. On this tiny boulder, there was barely any space for the two of you. Hyunjin clearly hadn’t calculated for that when he asked you to join him. Because now, you were pressed to each other, and his hand was on your bare waist, gripping you tightly so you won’t fall. Fuck, you’d really put yourself in this situation willingly.

“Shit. I’m so sorry” He realised, leaving his hold on you once you’d found your balance.

You were breathing heavy. Your eyes searched his, and his gaze was so familiar. Half-lidded eyes, dark hair falling into his forehead, lips pink...and plush up close. He was so beautiful, and his body was warm.

His eyes fell to your body, noting the goosebumps on your chest, “You’re shivering”

“I’m fine”

“Take my sweater”

“Hyunjin…”

He didn’t let you finish and took off his dark woolen sweater. Inside, he was in a simple long-sleeved t-shirt that hugged him tightly. It was almost too small on him, and you could see the shape of his body through it. He handed you the warm sweater, and it was soft to the touch. You slipped it on over your bikini, and it smelled like him too.

He nodded, jutting his head towards the dock, “Um. There they are”

You turned, trying to balance on the little space you had to stand, peering through the trees.

“Can you see them?” Hyunjin asked, maintaining a sliver of distance between you, as he tried to look over your shoulder. You could see them. Kairi and Chan sat at the edge of the dock, legs hanging off into the water. They weren’t touching, but they were sitting close together. They were talking about something, passionately, because you could hear hints of their voices all the way here.

“What…are they doing? They’re just…talking”

“Yeah” Hyunjin said, a puff of cold air leaving his mouth, “I guess they had a lot to catch up on”

Your heart clenched. You knew how much she loved him. “She missed him a lot…” You admitted.

Hyunjin glanced at you, and then back at them, “Yeah? He did too…he’s been in a lot of talks with the company”

“About what?”

His expression changed at your curiosity, “It’s not important, Y/N”

You frowned, even more curious now, “Tell me, Hyunjin”

He sighed, “It was… just about ensuring her security, in case they got back together, and even if they didn’t. Tracking down and suing the people that sent her the threats”

A flicker of hope lit up in you, for them, “Wasn’t that the only reason they weren’t together? Because of Kairi’s safety?”

Hyunjin looked at you, empty, downcast eyes, “No, when I came back to the city, they’d been having a lot of…arguments, and fights. I would hear Chan on the phone with her till the morning hours, just…arguing, about anything and everything. They weren’t even angry at each other, they were just frustrated because…he could barely give her time. It sucked, kind of felt like I’m a kid listening to my parents fall apart, you know? Watching their relationship fail right in front of me. The nights they stayed up arguing, Chan would show up to practice the next morning unmotivated and unfocused. It was affecting his work a lot. He was barely able to be creative”

You watched the side of his face, as he told you the tale of how this line of work had pulled Chan and Kairi apart. “So…what’s going to change now? Won’t they just go back to fighting?”

Hyunjin shrugged, “I don’t know. Things will never change. But I’m not gonna be the one to take away his hope”

“You really think that…?”

He looked at you, gaze piercing yours, “What?”

“That things are always going to be bad, that they won’t get better?”

“I don’t think that. I know it”

Your heart dropped, offended at the negativity he possessed, “Would it kill you to be a little more positive?”

He swallowed, looking right at you, “Me being positive is not gonna bring them back together”

Now he’d given up on his own best friend’s relationship too, what chance did you stand? You glanced back at Kairi and Chan, breath hitching in your throat at the sight. His hand was on her face now, caressing her, and he had inched closer. They looked…ethereal against the river and the moon.

“It just might” You mumbled. Chan was whispering something to her now, nose brushing against hers. It was so intimate, you suddenly felt like a voyeur.

Hyunjin inhaled, realising it at the same time as you, “We…shouldn’t watch this”

“We… shouldn’t have watched any of it”

You turned, and Hyunjin had already jumped back onto the sandy terrain, and you wished you were as athletic as him. He made it look so easy. He was holding his hands out to you, “I got you”

You stared at him, and the way his hands were ready to catch you. He was wearing the same jewellery he always did, the same rings as the night he kissed you for the first time, and told you that you shouldn’t be worried because he wasn’t going anywhere. That all felt far too fabricated a lie now. Were any of those things he said true?

“I can get down on my own” You said, rejecting his offer to hold you, to touch you again.

“Are you sure?” He frowned, hands dropping to his side.

“Yup” You weren’t going to ask him for help again, so carefully, you stepped down, one foot on the ledge, trying to balance your weight out.

Hyunjin was watching carefully, and maybe it was good, because you fucking slipped. Bare feet and rock climbing was not a good mix. One second, the rock was firm underneath you, the other it was gone. A yelp escaped you, but in half a second Hyunjin had stepped forward, catching you in his grip. He had you pressed you to the rocks, grip strong around your body, “Fuck. Are you okay?”

You couldn’t even find it in you to be embarrassed, staring up at him. There was no space between your bodies, and the moonlight fell right on him and his stupidly perfect face. You tried to catch your breath, but he was crushing you to the rocks. You couldn’t even breathe. Your hair fell in front of your face, and Hyunjin’s gaze flickered over it, as if he was itching to fix it. His hands dug into the fabric of the knit sweater, fingers poking in the holes, and his other hand…lay dangerously close to your ass, resting just at the end of your bikini.

So you still could feel like this again, like you would explode from human touch. You hadn’t felt this alive in the longest time, each nerve ending firing at full capacity. This is what attraction felt like, not what you had with your date in the bar, not what you felt when you kissed your friend. Your eyes searched his, for any remorse or guilt for what he’d done to you. You found none.

"Please let go of me”

“What?”

“Let go of me, Hyunjin”

He dropped his hands from you immediately, hurt flashing through his eyes, and a part of you was happy he could still display that emotion. He’d been fauxing his emotions the entire night so well, he’d pushed them all aside, and you hated that. Why couldn’t he admit he missed you? He stepped back, apologetic, “I’m sorry. I just…wanted to make sure you were okay”

“I’m fine” You side-stepped him, walking back to the campgrounds through the trees. Hyunjin was quiet, and he followed you, a few steps behind. You knew because you could hear his breaths, and his footsteps against the crunching leaves.

After some minutes, he spoke, “Y/N…”

“I don’t want to talk to you” You were walking away from him, as fast as you could, hoping to put some distance between you.

“Y/N…you’re bleeding”

You stopped, “What?”

He stood a few steps behind, watching you, “Your leg. I think you…you cut yourself on the rock. The…branches”

You had far too much pride in the moment to even check if he was right. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t hurt” You mumbled, and began walking back towards the party again.

“It could get infected”

“Can you just stop talking, please? I can take care of myself”

“I’m sure you can. I’m just worried about you”

“Why are you even here?” You turned, walking back to him so you could be closer. Each step against the grass did hurt now. You must have cut yourself really bad, because the dirt was burning your wound, but you weren’t going to show your weakness, not right now. You were so far from the rest of the party, otherwise anybody would have been able to hear you arguing. You were thankful everybody else was distracted and having an actual good time, unlike you.

He frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why the fuck are you here? I didn’t invite you to this party. I want you to leave”

His eyes narrowed, “I’m not leaving Chan alone”

You let out a frustrated sigh, “He’s with Kairi, and they seem to be doing great without you!”

“You’re hurt…” He spoke, calm as fucking ever. Why couldn’t he just express himself, like he used to? Why was he wearing a shield?

“As if that matters to you. The damage is done. I knew it wasn’t a good idea” You were talking about the cut on your leg, but of course you fucking weren’t.

He squeezed his eyes shut, “Just please let me take a look at it. I don’t want you to get hurt”

“It’s too late for that, Hyunjin”

He reached out, grabbing your arm with more force than you expected, to pull you closer, “Y/N. Stop fighting me. I’m not letting you go without making sure you’re all right”

The authority in his voice shocked you. You’d never heard Hyunjin so determined before, so aggressive. His eyes were narrowed, and his grip on your arm was strong but not tight enough to hurt you. You swallowed, wanting to suddenly cry because you were in so much pain and he was the reason for it all, “Fine”

His grip relaxed on you, and he let out a breath as if it was hurting him too. He looked around, eyes landing on the glass house hidden between the trees, “Can you walk till there?”

“Yeah”

You only felt a little shameful, walking over to the cabin, and you hope nobody was fucking in there or anything. Hyunjin pushed open the door, stepping inside, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets.

“Everything’s empty” He mumbled, a frustrated look in his eyes.

You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, “Yeah. It’s a vacation rental, so there’s not gonna be any personal belongings. Maybe you could check in the bedroom”

He sighed, walking through the open doorway into the bedroom. The house was so…modern, and fancy, with large glass windows that faced the river. You could imagine how nice it’d be to spend the night here. There was an open four-claw white bathtub, and clearly this room was designed for sex. Why else would there be a tub in here? Hyunjin seemed impatient as he opened every cupboard, pulling open the drawers with gold knobs.

“Found anything?”

He shook his head, “No…just condoms”

“Oh…”

“And a bottle of…lube” He chuckled, turning to look at you, arms crossed as he leaned against the dresser, “Yeah. nice planning. There’s no first aid kits, anywhere?”

“I don’t know” You sighed, “I wasn’t exactly planning on climbing up rocks”

Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, “Right. Can you sit down?”

The bedsheets were nicely made, you didn’t want to ruin it but you were in pain now. You sat at the edge of it, hands in your lap. You had on Hyunjin’s sweater on top, but under that…you were still just in your bikini, legs bare. He knelt down on the floor, lifting your leg up in his hands. A wave of deja vu overwhelmed you. This position… reminded you of Felix’s birthday party. Almost the exact same thing had happened, when San had broken a beer bottle and Hyunjin had been worried about you. You stayed quiet, letting him probe around. The cut was near your Achilles heel, which explained why it hurt so much. Tenderly, he touched the skin around it, “Does this hurt?”

You nodded, biting your lip, “Yeah. It hurts.”

He sighed, looking up at you, intense gaze, “It’s…not that deep a cut, but…you shouldn’t go in the river or anything. It could get infected”

“So I’ll be fine? We’re done here?”

He let go of your leg so you could put it down, “Yeah”

Clearing his throat, he got up to walk to the door.

You stared after him, “You’re leaving?”

“There’s a store a few miles from here. I’ll get you a bandaid”

“What? You’re gonna drive all the way for that. That’s stupid. It’s…an hour away”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking for your permission, is it?” He mumbled, pushing the door to walk back outside the house.

“Hyunjin” You groaned, getting up to follow him, “Wait! What are you doing?”

He threw his hands up, voice high, “I don’t know. What the hell do you want me to do?”

As if this was your fault, “Well, maybe don’t come to a party you’re not invited to. That would be a great start”

His voice shot up higher, “I’m sorry I fucked up, okay? I came here for Chan. I had no fucking idea you’d be here! I didn’t even know you knew Kairi, so how could I have guessed you’d be at her birthday party, Y/N?”

You swallowed, knowing he was right, frustrated tears rising up, “So you wouldn’t have come…if you knew I was here? I was right?”

He sighed, each word said so powerfully it cut through you, “Yes. It would have changed everything! I obviously would have preferred to stay home rather than watch you make out with your new boyfriend right in front of me!”

Your eyes widened, and it seemed like he instantly regret what he said.

He squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m sorry. I didn’t…mean to yell”

Hurried footsteps distracted you, and you turned to see Kairi walking up to you, confused gaze, “Hey. Why are you all the way here?”

“Kairi. Are you okay?” You asked, immediately embracing her, “I was looking for you earlier”

She nodded, “I am. I am. I just I got to talking with Chan, and we didn’t realise how much time had passed. I’m so sorry, oh my god. Does everybody hate me for abandoning my own party?”

You shook your head, pulling back to look at her, and you were happy to see that there were no tears, “No, no, they’re all having a good time. That doesn’t matter anyway, are you okay right now? Do you feel…okay?”

She nodded, “I am. Chan and me…we talked about a lot of shit. I’ll tell you everything”

“Where is he?” Hyunjin asked.

Kairi’s eyes widened at him, “Hwang fucking Hyunjin! What did I do to deserve the honor of you showing up to my party?”

He smiled at her, and it’s like his mood had changed instantly around her, “Happy birthday, Kairi”

She jumped into his arms, tackling him in a hug, “I missed you dumbass” He hugged her back, warmly, burying his head in her shoulder, “I missed you too, Kairi”

She pushed his hair out of his face, hands resting on his cheekbones, “You look fucking hot, Jinnie. It’s been a while”

His eyes sparkled at her, cheeks flushing, “I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself too”

Why couldn’t you be the one to get a reunion so warm? It was your fault for being bitter anyway, and for trying to start a fight with Hyunjin. You don’t even know what you were trying to do.

“I see you two have been reunited” Chan laughed, walking over to you. He glanced at you, a sheepish smile on his face, “I’m sorry about earlier, Y/N…”

“It’s okay…” You told him, “I get it. You really needed to see her”

He nodded, looking around the grounds, “So did I completely ruin the party?”

“No” Kairi shook her head, “I think most of them are too drunk to even notice I’m gone. Although…Y/N might be a little sad” She pouted at you, “You planned everything. I’m sorry it didn’t go accordingly”

You felt conscious, feeling all their eyes on you, “No, I only did it for you. If you’re happy…that’s enough for me”

Chan nodded, glancing at his wristwatch, “Fuck. It’s getting really late. We have a flight in the morning. Should we drop you guys home?”

They had a flight? To where? You shook your head to answer him, “No, that’s okay. I’m…going with Jeonghan”

Kairi giggled at his mention, “Your boy was passed the fuck out a few minutes ago. I think he drank too much. Eric said they’re gonna drive back in the morning, when they’re all sobered up. Do you wanna wait till then?”

It was almost three am, and you don’t think you could wait till dawn, “Oh…no I’ll just take a taxi home. I have class at eleven”

“A taxi from here to the city? Of course not. That’s not safe” She frowned. You forced a smile at Kairi, “Um. I’ll just take it in the morning then”

“That’s a terrible idea” Hyunjin mumbled.

“Just come with us?” Chan offered, and his voice was so sweet it was hard to say no, but they’d all known each other for years, and you’d feel too awkward riding with them, “I’m just…gonna go check with Nate, if that’s cool”

Chan nodded, casually, “Ah. We’ll be in the parking lot. Look for the black car”

You nodded, “Got it. Thanks Chan”

You glanced at Hyunjin, and he was already looking at you, arms crossed in front of his chest. He averted his gaze as soon as you caught him.

Back at the bonfire, Jeonghan was sitting in a beach chair, talking to a group of strangers. They must be locals who had rented some cabins. His face lit up when he saw you walk to him, “Where’d you get that sweater? Is there a mall here I don’t know about?”

“It’s just my friends” You told him, not in the mood to joke, bending down to be level at him, “Kairi said you passed out. Are you okay?”

He nodded, smiling, “I’m fine, Y/N. I just found out that these people went to the same high school as me, in LA. Isn’t that crazy?”

You glanced over, at some locals who were sat in a circle. The set-up seemed cozy, there was cider and hotdogs that lay between them, “Oh wow. It’s a small world” You told him, “Um, I came here to ask…Kairi was headed home, and she asked if I wanna come with. But I said I’ll stay with you, make sure you’re okay and everything”

Jeonghan’s lips tugged up into a smile, “Y/N. I’m more than okay. You seem tired, on the other hand. Maybe you should let Kairi take you home? I think I’ll chat here with them for an hour or so”

You nodded, biting your lip, “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here alone”

He rolled his eyes, “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

You swallowed, “I’m just being a good friend, Nate”

He leaned ahead, pinching your cheek, “I know and so am I. Please, just get some sleep. You seem exhausted”

You sighed, dread filling you. This meant you’d have to ride with Hyunjin. “All right. I’ll…see you in class on Monday then?”

You got up, to leave but he tugged at your arm, voice dropping, “The boy from earlier. Was that…the guy we saw in the elevator…at Pegasus?”

You looked around, but nobody was listening, so you nodded, “Yeah. That was him”

Understanding settled in his features, “He was…looking at you the entire time he was here. When we were dancing…drinking. He...didn’t look away from you for a second”

“You saw that?”

“Mmh. Is that…the same guy you wanted to…Eternal Sunshine out of your mind?”

You smiled, the movie reference catching you off guard, “Yeah, but um, don’t tell anyone, please”

He grinned, imitating a zip over his mouth, “My lips are sealed”

»»————-

There was a black car in the parking lot. You found your shoes, and your jeans, abandoned by the check-in area at the campground, slipped them on and walked over to the car. The three of them stood there, and the trunk was open. Chan sat in the back, leg pulled up, sipping beer and Kairi was snuggled up to him. It was chilly out here. Hyunjin…stood across them, hands on his waist and they were laughing about something. He seemed so carefree when you weren’t there. His eyes were crinkled, and his laughter echoed in the open night.

His sweater on you was warm, and you felt shy and awkward as you made your way to them, “Hey”

Kairi’s eyes lit up, “Y/N! Nate isn’t coming?”

“He…said he wanted to stay a bit”

“Perfect. We were waiting for you, so we could cut the cake” Chan smiled.

“What?” You laughed, noticing the little bento cake sat neatly in the back of the trunk, “Here? Just...the four of us?”

“Mmh” Kairi nodded, “My favorite people ever. It’s perfect”

Your heart warmed, and nothing had gone to plan, but it wasn’t up to you, “Sure... Why not?”

She jumped up, standing next to you on the concrete as Chan opened the box carefully. He dug into his pockets for a lighter, and lit the candles. It was…definitely not the way you’d envisioned tonight, but this was about Kairi, and in a way…this was perfect.

Under the moonlight, in the empty parking lot, the glow of the candles was bright. Kairi leaned in, closing her eyes to make a wish, and then blew hard on the candles. Chan laughed loudly, singing a bad rendition of Happy Birthday, and you smiled at the sight.

It was strange how they found solace in each other, in an abandoned lot miles away from the nearest city. The celebration was small, much smaller than you’d planned…but it still felt complete. You hugged Kairi, arms tight around her, and she hugged Hyunjin after you. You wonder if your scent lingered on him, through her. He said something to make her laugh, and she teased him by smearing frosting on his cheek. Hyunjin gasped, dramatically, dipping his finger right into the cake.

“No, no, no!” Kairi laughed, hiding behind Chan. Chan rolled his eyes, “Jinnie. You’re not putting cake on her”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, laughing, “Relax…” Although clearly he’d been planning to do just that. Instead of putting it on her face, he licked his finger, tongue swirling around it.

Kairi got on her toes, pulling Chan in for a hug. You still don’t know what they talked about that made them so happy again, but you would have to be patient and she would tell you everything. For a few seconds, they just held each other, indulging in and enjoying each other’s embrace Your gaze drifted to Hyunjin. There was a small smile on his face, and shamelessly he watched them. You remember how much he loved Chan and Kairi. They were…the world to him. So… he must be the happiest right now.

Your own smile fell though, the longer you looked at Hyunjin. He must be cold, but he’d given you his sweater…it wasn’t much but it was everything right now. He made you crave him always, even when you were supposed to be so angry at him. The adoration in his eyes, the softness in his gaze…it used to be yours. He used to look at you like that, and you still didn’t understand what changed.

What happened to make him change towards you so drastically? Why didn’t he want you anymore? After the way you’d acted tonight, showing your immature, petty and vengeful side, he probably wouldn’t want to even…associate with you anymore. A wave of sadness hit you. Had your anger ruined any chance you had with him tonight?

But…why wouldn’t you be angry at him? You had every right. Or maybe…he’d just think of you as the bitchy ex-girlfriend for the rest of his life. You were an anecdote to tell his future lovers, a girl to mention in passing, someone he had a fling with one summer. To you, he was the entire world…but he’d never reciprocate the feeling. You’d ruined everything, because of your sadness. Tears shot up to your eyes, and you looked away.

You wish you never met Hyunjin. Your own thought killed you.

“Come on. We should get going, if we hope to make it to Seoul by dawn” Chan said, pulling away, hoarse voice.

“You’re not driving are you?” Kairi asked him, “There’s a lot I wanna talk to you about”

“She means she wants to get drunk with you in the backseat” Hyunjin laughed.

“Same difference” Kairi shrugged, and then turned to you, “You don’t mind riding shotgun, right? Hyunjin’s a good driver”

How did you end up in this situation anyway? You'd already told Kairi that you had no problem with Hyunjin. You'd already caused so much trouble tonight.

“Yeah. I don’t mind” You mumbled. Chan closed the trunk, after making sure the cake was secure, and you walked to the front. You didn’t even know they had their own cars. You’d always assumed their managers drove for them, but their company probably had no idea they were even here.

Huh. Hyunjin broke the rules for Chan. Just not for you.

You settled into the passenger seat, and Hyunjin sat next to you.

“Jinnie, you’re gonna have to adjust the seat for yourself” Chan told him, as he and Kairi settled comfortably in the backseat.

“Ah. The sins of being tall” Kairi joked. In the rear view mirror, you saw them immediately snuggle together, and Chan wrapped an arm around her, like they couldn’t bear to be apart. Must be nice. You were jittery, and anxious again, having Hyunjin in such close proximity to you. You rest your hand on the console, trying to not look at his side profile, trying to not think of how you were in his sweater over your wet swimsuit.

Chan moved ahead, hand landing on the back of your seat, “So, Y/N. Tell me more. Now that you’re finally here, I’d love to hear about you”

You bit your lip, “I’m sure you already know everything there is to know about me…”

A warm sensation made you jump, and you realised Hyunjin had accidentally placed his hand on top of yours, on the console between you.

“Sorry” He apologised, pulling his hand back.

“Um. It’s fine” You put your hands in your lap. You’d forgotten how warm and comforting his hand was. You wanted to hold it again, for the rest of the ride. Glancing in the rearview, Chan was saying something to Kairi, her face held in his big hands as he looked at her with so much love in his eyes. Perhaps this is why their car had blacked out windows.

“So…how long will it take us to get home, Jinnie?” He asked.

Hyunjin glanced at the GPS, that was above the console, “Says about three hours”

“Fuck. I’m definitely gonna fall asleep” Kairi laughed, and Chan nodded, “Me too”

Hyunjin reached into the glove compartment, taking out a pair of thin silver-rimmed glasses. He put them on, and you’d never seen him wear these before so these must be anti-glare, for the drive. Regardless…he looked suddenly ten times hotter than before, and you looked away. You would blame the alcohol for how attracted you felt to him in this moment.

“What are you waiting for, Jinnie?” Kairi asked him.

“Um. Car won’t start until everyone has their seatbelts in”

He glanced at you, and before you could even think, he had leaned over to your side, pulling your belt out of the hook. Your breath stopped as his face hovered over yours but his gaze was focused on the strap as he pulled it towards him. He clicked it in place for you, crossing the strap over your chest, and waist, then he asked you, voice low and hoarse, “That comfortable?”

Just for a second, he looked up at you, eyes meeting yours. His strong scent infiltrated you. You had no words to say. He was so close, and you just nodded, hoping that would be enough.

“We’re good now” He spoke, leaning back into his own seat, and started the car. There was absolutely no fucking need for him to be doing that for you. You knew how to put a seatbelt on, but now you wished he was always there to do it for you.

Your chest was pounding embarrassingly loud. You think everybody could hear it. You glanced at him, and his hands rested on the wheel, and he looked so fucking attractive. The thin glasses rested on his nose, and he licked his lips, turning around, one hand on the wheel, other on the back of your seat so he could reverse the car out of its parking lot. God, you wish you never met him but you wanted to jump over the console into his lap, and kiss him for the rest of your life.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, and looked at you before turning to face the road again. His gaze dropped to your body for a second, to his sweater hugging you tightly. You weren’t talking to each other, but… your gaze mirrored his, you’re sure. You stared at his face illuminated in the moonlight, darkened look in his eyes. So, he couldn't love you, but you still had an effect on him, and it made you feel proud. Anybody in the world would be able to tell what you wanted to do to each other. Even right now, when you hated him more than anything. Even when he’d broken your heart and made no attempt to patch it back up.

You both said nothing, as he focused on the road, pulling out of the campgrounds to catch the highway. The silence was enough. You’d been in this car for just a few minutes, and you were already dying, air thick with tension.

There were three long hours to Seoul, on a dark highway through the woods, with only the moonlight to guide you, and Hyunjin was inches from you.

You had no idea how you’d make it there, without completely ruining each other.

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :)

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #angst #Hyunjin imagines #skz x reader #skz imagines #fluff #friends to lovers #hwang hyunjin x reader

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valeskafics · 5 months

Text

"Most Ardently" Chapter Two: Extensive Reading - Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader (Pride & Prejudice AU)

Read Chapter One HERE.

Summary: Floris falls ill on her way to dine with the royal family and you once again find yourself in Prince Aemond's company far sooner than you anticipated.

TW: profanity, innuendo, afab reader, she/her pronouns

Word Count: 2,390 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST HERE.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the songs listed in this chapter nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

“And then he danced the third with Lady Tyrell. Poor thing, it is a shame she is not more handsome. The fourth with a Lady Karstark of little standing. And the fifth again with our Floris!”

You, Floris, and the rest of the family gather around the feasting table as your mother regales you with her account of the previous night’s events, despite the fact that you were all present. Maris, who is occupied with her needlework, pricks her finger when your mother lets out a particularly loud shriek of excitement at a raven having arrived from where the Targaryen princes are staying, at a manse nearly a day’s ride from your castle.

“Mother, please, my head still aches from all the dancing last night,” Ellyn sighs, dramatically resting a hand on her forehead, Cassandra fussing over her as is her way.

You and Floris exchange looks of annoyance at the situation, startling once again at your mother’s declaration that the letter is indeed, for your younger sister.

“Make haste, Floris, what does it say?”

You arch a brow at how eager your mother is acting, though you must admit that you are no less curious.

“It is from Prince Daeron,” Floris says, a small smile dancing around the corners of her lips, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink at the mere mention of his name, “He has invited me to the manse to dine with him, his mother, and his brother Prince Aemond.” She looks to your mother with excitement, “Oh, Mama, may I please take the wheelhouse so that my hair is not mussed when I arrive-”

“Certainly not,” your mother cuts her off, “You will go on horseback.”

You question incredulously, “Horseback? Mother, you can’t be serious! This is called Storm’s End for a reason!”

“I need the carriage to go into town,” your mother shakes her head vehemently, a secretive little smile on her lips, “Go help your sister get ready! Make haste!”

You bite back a groan of annoyance, following after your sisters, resolving yourself to do whatever you can to style your sister’s hair in a way that won’t look entirely dreadful after nearly a full day’s ride.

As she rides off, you take a seat under the ramparts, leaning against the castle walls as you begin to read an old tome about Nymeria’s voyage. You are completely unsurprised when a drop of rain plops onto the page. You knew it. You knew it would rain. You look up and see the skies begin to weep, no doubt drenching your poor little sister. You rush back inside, where your mother stands with your father, a gleeful expression on her face.

“Excellent, now she will have to stay the night. Exactly as I predicted!”

Your father turns to your mother, a begrudging hint of respect in his eyes as he comments, “Good grief, woman. Your skills in the art of match-making are without question.”

You roll your eyes, wringing out the rainwater from your hair, commenting dryly, “Though I don’t think Mother can reasonably take credit for making it rain. Let us just hope my poor sister hasn’t caught her death by the time she reaches the manse.”

The next morning, unsurprisingly, another raven arrives from the manse. Only this time, it is in your beloved sister’s hand.

“And the queen will, of course, not hear of me returning until I am better. But do not be alarmed, except a sore throat, a fever, and a headache, there is nothing wrong with me.”

You stare at the letter in abject horror, snatching it out of your mother’s hands, “This is ridiculous!”

Your father turns to your mother, shaking his head in disapproval as he stands to leave and greet the smallfolk, “Well, my dear, if your daughter does die, it will be a comfort to know it was all in pursuit of Prince Daeron.”

“People do not die of colds, Borros,” your mother retorts sharply, gesturing for her lady’s maid to pour her another cup of tea.

“Though she might well perish with the shame of having such a mother,” you mutter under your breath before turning to your parents, “I must go to the manse at once.”

Your mother shakes her head, immediately shutting down your idea, “Nonsense. The horse is with Floris and the girls have taken the carriage into town.”

“Fine! Then I will walk!”

And true to your word, you do exactly that. You stride across the fields that have been muddied by the rain, slipping as you go, but continuing on your way. You’ve taken the shortcut walking path, not navigable by horse, and so hope to reach the manse in a few hours. You have always been fond of walking, in any event, and the rains have left the surrounding area smelling incredible, the sky clear above your head as you go.

When you enter the manse, Ser Criston Cole announces your arrival to Prince Aemond and the queen, who sit in the solar. When you walk in, you see Prince Aemond immediately rise, a moment too fast, giving you a quick bow. You return it with a curtsy. You know you must look a sight, your skirt covered in mud, your hair mussed, your face no doubt wind-bitten. The queen eyes you up and down for a brief moment, astonished and pursing her lips.

“Seven Heavens, Lady Baratheon, have you walked here?”

You glance down at your dress, immediately feeling self conscious as you apologize, “I just… How is my sister, Your Graces?”

Prince Aemond’s voice cuts in, a bit more kind than that of his mother, seeing your concern for your sister, “She’s upstairs.” He turns to Ser Criston, “Please, show Lady Baratheon the way, Cole.”

He gives the prince a curt nod before bowing his head to you and gesturing for you to follow him. You give Prince Aemond a minute smile of thanks, curtsying once more to him and his lady mother before leaving the room, eager to see your sister.

Had you turned around, even if only for a moment, you might have seen Aemond’s gaze trailing after you as you left.

“Goodness, Aemond, did you see her skirt? Six inches deep in mud,” Queen Alicent tuts, “And her hair!”

Aemond’s lips press into a thin line as he speaks quietly, “I think her concern for her sister does her credit, Mother.”

You find Prince Daeron standing outside Floris’ room, looking rather tense, though his face lights up when he sees you, “Lady Baratheon!”

He takes your hands, kissing them, just as a maester leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. The two of you question in unison how Floris is doing, the maester looking at both of you, rather amused, as he tells you that it is quite a violent cold, but they will get the better of it. Prince Daeron opens the door for you, urging you to enter and speak to your sister, giving the two of you privacy. Floris’ face shines with visible happiness as you lean over and kiss her feverish brow.

“Sister!”

“My sweet Floris,” you smile, “How are they treating you, darling?”

“Oh, they are being so kind to me. I feel such a terrible imposition.”

“Oh, Floris, do not worry, I don’t know who is more pleased at your being here, our mother or the prince himself,” you giggle, straightening up as Prince Daeron enters, having spoken with the maester. “Thank you for tending to my sister so diligently. It seems she is in better comfort here than she would be at home, with our sisters bothering her.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Prince Daeron smiles, before backtracking, “Not that she’s ill. That she’s here. Being ill.”

You bite back a laugh at the way the tips of the prince’s ears turn red and he excuses himself, leaving you alone.

The manse’s solar is quite lovely, with a large window overlooking the coast. While Prince Aemond writes a letter, Prince Daeron sits on an armchair, nervously drumming his fingers as you all await news of Floris from the maester. You occupy yourself by reading a book, one on the Doom of Old Valyria, completely enraptured by the story.

“It is amazing,” Prince Daeron muses aloud, though you are unsure where his sudden train of thought has sprung from, “How young ladies have the patience to be so accomplished. They all paint tables and embroider cushions and play the harp. I never heard of a young lady, but people say she is accomplished.”

You give him a small smile, which is quickly wiped from your face at his brother’s words, “The word is indeed applied too liberally. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen women who are truly accomplished.”

“Goodness, you must comprehend a great deal in the idea,” you remark dryly, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, only to see that his gaze is already fixed on you.

“Indeed. I do not find such frivolities as embroidery and penmanship to be accomplishments.” He clears his throat, “Nor do I count such things as beauty.”

Prince Daeron rolls his eyes and speaks, “She must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and languages to deserve the word, at least according to my brother.”

Prince Aemond casts a meaningful glance at your book before remarking, “And, of course, she must improve her mind by extensive reading.”

You immediately snap your book shut, giving the prince a sharp look as you reply with no little amount of sardonicism in your voice, “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

He arches a brow, turning to you with a quizzical expression on his face, “Are you so severe on your own sex?”

You cross your legs, chin resting on your hands as you give him a cheeky grin, wanting nothing more than to get under his skin, “I never saw such a woman. She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold.”

He watches as you open your book once again and continue to read, murmuring to himself, “That would make seven.”

“Are you too proud, Prince Aemond?” You ask, hearing him mumble but not understanding his words, “And would you consider that a fault?”

“That I could not say,” he says, somewhat amused, “May I ask what has brought on such a line of questioning, Lady Baratheon?”

“I am trying to find a fault in you.”

Prince Daeron snickers quietly while Prince Aemond responds, “Perhaps it is that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against myself.” He pauses before adding, “My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.”

You look at him, taken aback by the honesty of his answer, giving him a slight smile, “Oh dear, I cannot tease you about that. What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.”

“A family trait to be sure.” You turn at the sound of the queen’s voice, quickly standing to curtsy, “Your sister will be well enough to travel tomorrow. It would be best that everyone gets to bed.”

The next morning, you stand on the balcony of the room you are staying in, waiting for Floris to wake. You are distracted from your book at the sound of galloping hooves, which come to a halt by the stable below. You look and see none other than Prince Aemond, dismounting from his horse, walking toward the trough and pump. You stare at him with mild interest, wondering what it is that he plans to do. Your breath catches in your throat as he puts his head under the pump, dousing himself with cold water, heated from his morning ride. The water soaks his hair and his white tunic, causing the fabric to cling to the lean, taut muscles of his chest and stomach.

You know you should not be looking, especially as he removes his shirt to squeeze out the water. You know you should avert your gaze at the sight of his unblemished alabaster skin, his broad shoulders, his strong back… Your eyes go wide with horror when he looks up at you for a moment, catching you staring at him. You quickly turn to go back into the room, shutting the door behind you. Had you stayed out a moment longer, you might have seen the slight reddish tint that rose to Prince Aemond’s cheeks at the realization that you were watching him.

When the time comes for you and Floris to take your leave, the princes come to see you off, while Queen Alicent states that she is busy with her morning prayers. You watch with a smile as Floris and Prince Daeron converse, the latter offering your sister to return the moment she feels even the slightest bit poorly. He cannot seem to take his eyes off of her as he beams bashfully, leading her to the wheelhouse and helping her inside.

You curtsy to your sister’s suitor before begrudgingly curtsying to the elder prince, “Prince Aemond.”

“Lady Baratheon,” he replies, bowing his head.

As you move to climb into the wheelhouse, you are taken by surprise when Prince Aemond takes your hand, assisting you. Your lips part and you meet his gaze, his bare skin touching yours, his thumb tracing the back of your hand for the briefest of moments. You are unsure why you feel your stomach turning, the heat rising to your cheeks, when all that has happened is that a man you quite dislike has helped you into your carriage.

The moment is broken when Floris asks if you are alright. You avert your gaze immediately, your hand slipping out of his as you take a seat, murmuring your thanks.

As your wheelhouse pulls away, Aemond stares after it until it has disappeared from view. Only then does he turn back toward the manse, flexing his hand ever so slightly, as if trying to commit to memory the way your fingers felt intertwined with his, your soft, delicate hand in his own larger, more calloused one.

A simple, innocent touch has left his heart betwixt, and he wonders to himself how long he will have to wait before seeing you again.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #house of the dragon #my writing #most ardently fic

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victorie552 · 3 months

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Ok, so Noldolantë, "The Fall of the Noldor" is a lament composed by Maglor about what happened before, during and after First Kinslaying at Alqualondë. It's such a good song that it's played regularly in Aman and Valar listen to it often (I swear, I swear it was in the Silmarillion I just can't find it now).

It's also a more or less common fanon that Maglor continues writing Noldolante through the whole First Age. Makes sense - it's about fall of the Noldor, and Noldor did a lot of falling back then.

Headcannon time: So my first thought was that Noldolante must a long, long, long epic of a song. So it probably has many parts, right? Iliad has 24 books/parts, somehow I think Noldolante would be at least just as long, and there are longer epics. And again, just like Iliad, unless you're a scholar, in the daily life you don't really listen to/read the whole thing, just reread and repeat the most dramatic fragments. What I'm trying to impress upon you all is that the story would have different segments, or chapters, if you will.

And if Maglor continues to write the story during the FA, there would absolutely be a moment in the lament where the OG Noldolante becomes Noldolante 2, and even Noldolante 3. There may be the same musical motif or something, I decided that Maglor IS that good of a bard to keep it all consistent enough so you know it's all the same story, but the style changes a lot - it's been 400 years in the making, let The Music Elf have fun!

So, Point 1: Many, Many Parts, basically Maglor's FA WIP

My second thought was that, while Feanor invented his alphabet, elves learned their history mostly through oral tradition aka songs and spoken stories. Noldolante is definitely a historical record, where a historical event was archived for future generations.

(It was a also a way to deal with grief, guilt and blame Maglor and all Noldor have faced regarding First Kinslaying - free therapy! But that's not what this post is about)

Archived.

My 2.5 thought was that Noldolante isn't just recallings of how pretty and horrified the beach looked during the murdering or how mad and sorrowful the sea was at everyone during the voyage or even how awesome and charismatic Feanor looked during his speeches that every single Noldo was ready to fight Morgoth barehanded in his name - no, this is a record of who killed who, who got killed by whom, and how.

Noldor and Teleri knew each other (were friends, even!) before the First Kinslaying, so I'm confident that after a lot of interviews, detective work, and cross-referencing, Maglor could and would create a very good... name list. Practically every Noldo and Teler present during First Kinslaying would get a stanza in a song, more if he killed someone, most if he killed many people. Killers and killed would show up twice, first in a fragment listing the killers and their victims, then in a part listing the victims and their murderers. Basically it's the same thing twice, but from different POVs. With when, where and how included.

(It was seen to be in bad taste to compare kills during Maglor's Regency, when most of his interview-part work happened. People did it anyway. There were a Saddest Kill, Funniest Kill, and Weirdest Kill discusions. There was a Tier List. These were weird times to be a Feanorian Noldo.)

(It WAS in Bad Taste, but at least people talked about it. I cannot stress enough how much free therapy this lament provided)

(Little did they know, when Teleri started getting reembodied in Aman, they had very similar discussions, but more in a "I can't believe he killed me like THAT" way. Long, long, long after the First Age. Noldolante is a gift that keeps giving)

So, Maglor had all the historical grith and no common shame to create a "We Killed All These People And We Feel Bad About It" banger of a song, and every Noldo had a very personal reason to at least remember the fragments they are in. It's a hit on a scale never seen before.

(I'm not sure how to tackle the issue of Nolofinweans and Arafinweans learning about Noldolante after crossing the Ice. But there were discussions. There was anger, there was "????", there was controversy. Basically, the song got bigger and bigger rep no matter what your opinion on it was. By the time of Mereth Aderthad it was an important cultural and political piece and at least Fingon's forces were included in the main song. It had parodies.)

Point 2: Archive Function/Kill count storage. Cultural phenomen, every Noldo included

This is where my personal nonsense begins: Main Noldolante was done, there was nothing more to say about First Kinslaying, all killings and deaths were well documented.

But the Siege started. And the Noldor kept dying.

It was less dramatic than it sounded - between the big battles the siege was maintained, but orc raids also happened and sometimes one to few Noldor died in skirmishes. The legal procedure was to document the death of a fellow elf and send a word to king Fingolfin. The cultural procedure, technically started by Feranorians but adapted by many more, was to send the name, common characteristics and cause of death to Maglor's Gap. After few months, King Fingolfin would send reinforcements, short condolences and financial compensation if they had family. After few months, family of an elf would also receive a personal lament for them and a place for them in a Noldolante.

Yes, every lament Maglor created in that time was technically part of the Noldolante. Noldolante 1.5, if you will. Laments make in that time were very customized, and simpler than Noldolante Main, but were still considered a part of the same song. Of course, nobody was expected to know and remember laments for every single Noldo, younger Noldor born in Beleriand could even only know fragments about their family members. Only Maglor would ever know Noldolante in full, but it was understood that everyone had their place in The Song.

The results of Great Battles were harder to document, but Maglor did that. Of course, Dagor Bragollach was hard on him personally, but he worked his way through.

(High King Fingon forbade creating laments for his father. There were no songs for Fingolfin. Apart from in Noldolante, of course. Of course. Maglor did not share the lament with anyone, but he sat long hours and many nights with a blank paper before him, looking at the candle flame and thinking of the past and the future. The song unsung, but there)

Nirnaeth was... Maglor was never more hated and more approached at the same time than then. Still, Noldolante grew and grew, as if people knew the end was near.

It was Second Kinslaying that destroyed the myth of Maglor's song. Feanorians didn't know the Sindar they killed, but surely, they couldn't just left their names unmentioned like they did with orcs? So, Noldor talked, but the battle happened in caves - it wasn't uncommon to find dead bodies in empty rooms, with no witnesses to what happened. Surviving Sindar didn't want to share any names, even when Maglor strong-armed some into talking with him, and good for them. Maglor made a big lament anyway. Maglor, wild, with no shame and dead brothers, with legacy crumbling around him. Noldolante, with holes.

After Third Kinslaying, Noldor didn't want to talk. Lament for Sirion didn't have any names. Clearly, songs weren't a way to go anymore, it was always about live witnesses. And so Maglor raised the twins.

Lament for Maedhros was sung repeatedly. There was no one to hear it.

Point 3: Only Maglor knows Noldolante in full. But that doesn't matter, because everyone knows the important part: the Noldolante is finished. The Star of Hope rises in the West and the story goes on. The Fall has ended.

#silm #silmarillion #noldolante #maglor #yet another post that went in different direction than I planned #started with meta went into headcannon and ended with fanfic angst #I wanted to end it with crack!!!#I mean. I mean #it all makes kind of some sense if we're talking about elves here #but guys Noldor had Men and Dwarves as allies #Maglor would want them in his Historical Record song #I think with Dwarves they would mainly refuse when he asked them if they wanted a part in Noldolante #so maybe he would only get some allies and personal friends of Maedhros in #but Men #guys Men. they would agree and they would make lists and it would become Clown City so fast #but Sons of Feanor aren't known for their ability of knowing when to quit #so Maglor has a Noldolante 3.0 Standard Version with 254 Parts that has Elves and an Occasional Dwarf Only #and Special Version Noldolante Deluxe Extra Edition with 547398134 Parts that includes Men #everyone is included you don't have to die in battle #all common causes of death have a dedicated jingle to them #to the point you know a man's cause of death after 3 notes #these parts of Noldolante well the music bit actually survived into the Fourth Age #the words are gone but the music is played at funerals in some places #The Noldolante Main survived only in parodies though #actually Finished Noldolante is a very good thing huh #as in no more Fall of The Noldor #they can finally catch some break #I believe that during Maglor's Regency Era all Noldor did was Processing. and breeding horses.#Noldolante? more like Maglor Finally Discovers Shame: A Story #I think some personal revelations on legacy and connections between children and life's works would be made

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myocsfanfictions · 25 days

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THE WRATH OF FIRE

House of the Dragon Fanfiction

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair were dark, but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen and her wrath was not different from the one that burn inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 2

Ysilla had been right. Her dragon had survived for the first weeks of his life, and it kept getting bigger. No one believed it, but he did, and the girl spent the majority of her time with her dragon.

Since it survived, her lady mother had agreed to make the Maester write to King's Landing so that the keeper of the Dragonpits could take a look at the dragon.

Soon, Ysilla found herself on a ship, cradling her dragon in her arms, heading to the Capital.

She had been when she was only two, or at least that was what her mother had told her. She had to go because her uncle wanted to meet her. But Ysilla had little memory of that. At that time, her aunt Aemma was still alive and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. But only some months after her visit, she had died, giving birth to her son.

Her aunt came from the Vale as well, and Ysilla would have liked to remember her. But she really couldn't.

"You'll be taken care of," she whispered to her dragon, caressing his head. He seemed to like her touch, which made her giggle. "You are a strong one," she said proudly as his tail circled her wrist and moved his black wings.

Ysilla arrived at King's Landing by ship in five days. When she could see the shape of the city, the girl ran to the front.

King's Landing was huge, and she could already see the Red Keep and the Septon of Baelon. It looked so different from Runestone. Her castle was set on the tall mountains, and it was smaller than the Red Keep.

When her ship arrived at the dooks, her eyes noticed a knight wearing the white cloaks of the Kingsguard. He was a young man, olive-skinned and dark-haired. For some reason, his features made her blush. Her mother didn't let her hear songs much; Royces were strong warriors, and in a hard land like her own, there was no time for stories. But the few that Ysilla had heard talked about beautiful knights, such as the one that was waiting for her at the docks.

"Princess Ysilla," the knight greeted her with a bow of his head, which she reciprocated, holding her dragon in her arms.

"Good day, Ser," she answered politely, feeling a faint blush creep upon her cheeks at the realization she had no clue what the knight's name might be.

"Ser Criston Cole, my princess," he said gently, "I'll be escorting you to the castle. The King is waiting for you." He gestured towards a big carriage. The girl blinked her purple eyes in amazement. She never used those in Runestone; her mother taught her how to ride as soon as Ysilla could. Even her ride to the port had been made on the back of her pony.

Ysilla nodded silently, ready to follow the knight, but she didn't miss the way Ser Criston's eyes lingered upon her dragon.

"He is good," she said, suddenly afraid that they didn't want her dragon to enter the carriage. "He always obeys me, I swear," she assured him.

Since her dragon was born, Ysilla has never separated from him. He has become a dear friend to her, and he was always with her.

"Do not fear, princess," he smiled down at her, "Shall we go?"

Sadly, the carriage had no windows. Ysilla would have liked to watch the busy streets of the city, but she could only hear the people outside. She could not understand any words; they were just buzzing. Riding on horseback to the castle could have been more entertaining.

The dragon in her hands moved, and Ysilla looked down at it. He was still trying to find a way to move as swiftly as possible, trying to put all his strength into his front legs. Sometimes, he hurt her with his claws, accidentally scratching her skin. But Ysilla was patient with him.

"How old is he?" Ser Criston Cole asked her. She knew he had seen her dragon's missing legs, as he had noticed her dark hair streaked with silver.

"Almost two months old," she answered, biting her lower lip, feeling a bit shy. "Ser Criston," she called after some moments of silence, "Is my father here in King's Landing by any chance?"

The knight shook his head, "I'm sorry, princess. Prince Daemon is still fighting on the Stepstones." She flushed with shame. She should have known, but she stupidly had hoped that maybe he would have came in King's Landing after hearing of her arrival. She had just being stupid.

"Oh, thank you." The little claw of her dragon trying to keep himself up made her look down so that their eyes would meet.

You are here, though, she thought, caressing its head.

Once they arrived at the Red Keep, Ysilla felt so small looking up at the stone that built the castle.

"Ysilla Targaryen," her presence was announced as she stepped down the carriage, helped by Ser Criston. On the steps at the entrance of the castle, Ysilla noticed a man with long silver hair wearing black and red vests. On his face, there was a short beard, and he was smiling at her. He was the King Viserys and Ysilla's uncle. Next to him a young lady, with auburn hair tied at the back of her head. Her hands were resting upon her swollen belly. She must have been the young Queen Alicent, her aunt.

"My dear niece," the King said, walking towards her with open arms.

"Your Grace," she knew how to talk to the King; her Maester had thought of her well.

"You've grown so much, my dear," he said, gently smiling at her. At that, Ysilla felt like blushing. She knew how she was supposed to talk to the King, but not so much to her uncle, so she decided only to smile.

"You must be tired," the sweet voice of the Queen got her attention to see her stopping next to her husband, "And hungry."

"You are very kind, my Queen," she spoke shyly, "But I'd like to ask you to make sure my dragon is healthy."

Both the King and the Queen looked at the little beast in her arms. And Ysilla noticed their eyes linger at on the dragon, searching for the hind legs.

"It is-"

"Strong," she spoke, interrupting her uncle, blushing, "But we do not have Dragonpit in Runestone."

"Then we should bring him to the Dragonpit," another voice said from behind the King. She was a pretty girl with long silver hair and a smile, dressed in a soft yellow gown. Ysilla knew who she was: Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the heir to the Iron Throne.

"You want to think about it, Rhaenyra?" Ysilla's uncle asked. The girl noticed the princess making a strange face when her father spoke as if she didn't want him to share words with her. But when Rhaenyra's eyes went back to Ysilla, she smiled again.

"Of course," she said, gesturing towards the carriage.

"He is so pretty," Rhaenyra told her once the carriage moved again to bring them to the Dragonpit. Then she frowned as she got closer, taking a better look at the hatchling. Ysilla brought him closer to her.

"Thank you, princess," Ysilla answered, waiting for a comment from her cousin. She knew she would; everyone did. Ysilla's mother was not even sure that he would have survived.

"How's he called?" The question surprised her. She was ready to answer any question about her dragon, but not that. Ysilla blushed.

"I still have not named him," she admitted, ashamed.

"And why is that?" Asked Rhaenyra curiously.

"No name fits," the girl answered, caressing the head of her dragon.

Rhaenyra smiled. "It will come," she assured her, "Give it time."

Ysilla looked up, her lips curling up, appreciating her cousin's words. When she did so, she noticed the neckless of smoke-grey steel with a deep red ruby in its center. It was shining brightly, even if there was not so much light inside the carriage.

"You like it?" Rhaenyra asked, touching the necklace with her fingers. Ysilla nodded shyly.

"It's Valyrian steel," her cousin said, and Ysilla's eyes grew large.

"Like Lamentation!" She exclaimed, remembering the Valyrian Steel sword that House Royce possessed.

"And Blackfyre, or Dark Sister," Rhaenyra said, talking about the swords that one Aegon the Conquerer and his sister-wife Vysenia possessed.

"Father wields Dark Sister!" She knew all about those matters. Ysilla loved Valyrian Steel. Rhaenyra chuckled, nodding her head.

"Exactly!" She exclaimed before touching the neckless once again, "This was his gift."

Those words confused Ysilla. Her father had given that necklace to Rhaenyra? Why? Perhaps for her name-day, no doubt. If not, why? But did her father usually give gifts on name-days? Ysilla never received anything from him, nor did she know. Or maybe he did!

He must have if he had given something to Rhaenyra, Ysilla though. Her mother probably never gave her presents because she was still a little girl of five—too young for such jewelry.

It must be it, she thought, looking down at her dragon when he moved in her hands.

The Dragonpit was huge. Set atop one of the hills of King's Landing. The Hills of Rhaenys, Rhaenyra called it. The main door of bronze and iron was so tall that Ysilla felt her neck ache when she tried to look up. The Dragonpit was the home of the royal dragons of House Targaryen. Ysilla looked at her dragon as they walked inside, wondering if he would have liked to stay with the other dragons more. Maybe, that was the right place for him.

The Maesters of the Dragonpit were like nothing Ysilla had ever seen. They spoke a strange language that she had never heard before.

"Do you know High Valyrian?" Rhaenyra asked from next to her. High Valyrian was the language that was spoken by the people of Valyria. But Ysilla did not know it. No one in the household was Targaryen. And her mother wanted to raise her proud and strong like the people of the Vale and Ysilla wanted to be. But a part of her wanted to be Targaryen. She was a Targaryen, and she felt ashamed when she shook her head, admitting that she did not know High Valyrian. Rhaenyra observed her for a moment before starting to talk with the Dragonpit Maester. The man spoke to Ysilla, who only frowned, but then Rhaenyra touched her shoulder with a gentle smile.

"He'd like to see the dragon," Ysilla held it a little more, knowing that she had to let him go. The man was waiting, but she could only focus on the dragon moving in her hands.

"It's going to be alright," she assured, looking at the purple eyes of the hatchling. You are a good dragon," she said before moving her arms so that the man could take him. He squirmed, complaining as Ysilla took a step back.

The man put the dragon on a stone table. The little beast had some difficulty staying still due to the lack of its hind legs. But Ysilla observed him proudly as he found his balance using his wings, his long black and purple neck standing eloquently as he got more confident.

The man started to talk, and Ysilla turned to Rhaenyra, who was waiting for her to translate.

"He is deformed," Rhaenyra said, "The hind legs had not developed. He should have been dead by now," Ysilla's heart beat fast, full of worry, "And yet he is strong." Rhaenyra added, "Strong muscles, strong wings. It is unlikely that he will perish." Ysilla felt tears in her eyes, "He is growing good for his age. He says it is a miracle."

"So he will be fine!" Ysilla exclaimed happily. Rhaenyra nodded her head with a happy smile. Then the man talked again, and Ysilla waited patiently for her cousin to translate.

"He needs to be watched over," she said, "If he survives the furst year of age, he will be fine."

Ysilla was so glad to hear, and after asking the permission to go to her dragon, she happily caressed his head.

"You are going to be fine," she assured him, "And we are always going to be together."

________________________________________

Taglist: @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9

If you want to be add to the taglist just let me know.

If you liked it, please leave a ♥️ and reblog!

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madelynraemunson · 8 months

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series (completed)

* loosely inspired by Sara Cate’s “Salacious Players Club” series

🔥 EXTRA CONTENT HERE 🔥

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016** , 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters , ** = smut chapters

Summary: 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓. After getting kicked out by your brother, you have no other choice but to take off your big girl pants and add stripper to your resume. Desperate to pay the bills and support your little sister, are you willing to accept the risks that come with such a perilous profession? With the stage name ‘Shy Girl’, you take the leap of faith, weaponizing your divine femininity to steal the hearts of all the bachelors in Hawkins — including Eddie Munson’s, the owner of Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, eventual smut (a lot of it), voyeurism, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, drug/alcohol, profanities, sexual harassment, domestic violence

Welcome to Hellfire.

theme song: meet you in hell by jade lemac “Look me in my eyes. I know that you’re scared. You see yourself and you cry for help. Look me in my eyes. Tell me it’s not fair. If you taught me well, I’ll meet you in hell.”

Chapter 001: Wolves

The Hargroves are cursed. Generationally, that is. One night Billy takes it too far, costing him the only thing he had left... his sisters.

TW — abuse, domestic violence, blood, profanities, implications of infidelity, death

word count: 8.5k words

author's note: there are four different acts to this introductory chapter :) so much foundation to lay down and i spent forever on this to craft it perfectly for you guys. thank you for being as excited about this fanfic as I am releasing it. i hope you all enjoy! -madelyn

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

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"Once I ran to you. Now I run from you."

♡

Duality of man. Mom was always a firm believer in that notion. In fact, she always used to say, "Inside of you, there are two wolves: a good one and a bad one. Depending on which mouth you feed, one will triumph the other.”

It became more evident when she died.

“YOU FUCKING SLUT. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GO.”

Once identical in every aspect, the differences between you and your brother slowly began to unravel over time.

Being ‘good wolf’ was impossible while living under the same roof as Billy. So you settled for neutral wolf instead. Meanwhile, the big, bad wolf possessed him at age 15, when he realized hitting your father back would get him to back off.

It was 2010, post-homecoming game.

Dad nearly flung Billy into another dimension when he came home. The preferred alternative would have been attempting to reason with one another, but it just wasn’t something that was normalized in the Hargrove household. Communicating with words was a daunting task; but not nearly as daunting as accountability.

“I’M DONE WITH YOU, BILLY. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE.”

“I’m a literal minor, you can’t do this, Dad!” Billy wailed. "PLEASE!"

Over a football game.

The Friday Night Lights were a staple of Vista Palms High School. That and all of its nacho-eating, pot-smoking, LMFAO-playing, neon-filled goodness.

"C’mon V-P, c’mon, let’s beat S-D!” For weeks Billy had been chanting that mantra. There was no clearer indication that it’s where he would be the night of the championship game. He didn’t communicate it, of course, but it was implied. But still, it didn’t cross Dad’s mind.

Any parent who thought their child was coming home on time — and sober — that night was a foolish one. Especially if their kid was a sophomore with senior status.

“You sure as hell don't act like one,” Dad spat. “Coming home, acting all grown." Little did Dad know Billy was there for community service. Billy was a good student. More than anything he wanted a full ride to a UC, mainly to get away from home. Either that or military. Maybe then, walking on eggshells and being accused of something he didn't do — like drinking and doing drugs — would be a seasonal occurence instead of daily. "ACTING LIKE YOU PAY THE BILLS. YOU DON'T. YOUR MOM AND I DO.”

Dad knew he hit a nerve. It was his signature move aside from alienating his victims to establish control. While the feeling of getting your wings clipped really did you in, reactive abuse was Billy's top trigger, especially when Mom was mentioned. After all, Billy was the one who found Her.

Through glassy eyes and gritted teeth, Billy closed up his fists before mustering up the courage to say, “I’m…not…calling Sue... the operative word.”

Dad snarled. “Like there’s anyone else physically here you’ve reserved that title for?”

Oh.

"This tainted love you've given-"

Billy took the bait, lunging forward to grab Dad. As if on cue, Dad winded up his arm, assuming his usual position. You managed to assert yourself between in hopes of stopping them. Suddenly the back of Dad's hand collided with your cheek, sprawling you onto the couch. Billy watched horrified while you fought to keep your eyes open, growing anxious when all you could hear was the room pulsating around you at the highest frequency you had ever heard in your 15 long years of life. Enough was enough.

One punch. Bridge of the nose. Game over. The control Dad had over you both had ceased.

Billy rushed to your aid while Dad took a few moments to gather himself. It was then his beat-in, throbbing eyes realized that the little boy he mercilessly pushed around was no longer there. His own little Frankenstein had taken his place.

"I gave you all a boy could give you"

"Oh my god, Sissy," Billy cried, crouching down to run a soothing hand through your hair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you sniff, wrapping a hand around his arm. "I'm fine, Billy. I promise."

"I'm not gonna let that son of a bitch hurt you ever again," he vowed. "I'm gonna fuck him up and anyone else who tries."

"I love you, Brother."

"I love you, Sissy." The magnitude of power that surged through Billy melted into every neuron in his body, the warmth of its adrenaline imitating a tender — long overdue — embrace. He became fully enveloped in what was like an electric current, its tide higher than any wave he's ever surfed. It became more exhilarating than cruising down the I-5 in his Camaro at 130 MPH, and more intoxicating than any keg of beer he's ever swigged at a Wanna-be Project X Party.

It was the rush Billy had been searching for his whole life.

Every high Billy ever pursued before that rapidly declined in value. He would trade in anything for the static that had encoded itself into him. He felt untouchable, a luxury your father couldn’t afford his wife and children.

"YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AGAIN, YOU'RE DEAD DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

From that day forward, feeling respected was a freedom Billy was not willing to sacrifice, ever.

"Take my tears and that's not nearly all-"

But now Billy is the abuser, something you never imagined happening given his innately soft personality.

"Oh, tainted love. Don't touch me! Please.”

Slapping. Biting. Choking each other out. Pulling each other’s hair. Calling each other names. Spitting. Throwing things. Who would’ve thought the Hargrove twins were capable of the same horrors as their parents?

Yesterday was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Billy’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, clawed at your brain in agonizing intervals.

“That’s all Max is. A pathetic little liar.”

“She will do anything for any bit of attention…even whore herself out to all the men in Del Mar.”

“You can get out. And stay out. Since you wanna act so grown all the damn time.”

He became the very thing — or person rather — he sought to destroy. The very person who indirectly, but explicably killed your mother.

And deep down you feared that if you and your stepsister Max don’t get out of that house, you’d both suffer that same fate.

“It's fucking JULY and 90 degrees out!” your sister retaliated. “What do you want me to wear to the beach? Fucking sweats?"

Max was out with friends the night prior. They hosted a birthday bonfire for her at the beach. She broke curfew and got a ride home from a friend. A guy friend. Billy wasn’t having it.

Max always got the short end of the stick. She was an easy target for Billy’s antics. Being the literal carbon copy of the woman he hates the most didn’t make it any better, and neither did taking the bait whenever Billy dealt it to “keep the peace”. Max believes being and acting helpless would get Billy to back down. It was far from the truth. In reality, she was feeding him his supply.

And what a volatile supply it is.

Mom also had another saying: "Anger is just grief with nowhere to go".

So you watched Billy and Max go back and forth with their pickleball tournament-o-insults, shouting at one another to their lungs’ capacity, their dead, black pupils strangling each other mentally while they gathered the physical strength to do so as well. You kept an arm halfway up and torso slightly turned in case you needed to butt in.

“I do this because I love you, Maxine,” Billy insisted. “So just SHUT UP and stop being a little cunt. Okay?”

“You stop being a presumptuous asshole first,” Max fired back. “We’re fighting again — why? Because someone with a penis drove me home? And we broke curfew by 10 minutes? I don’t control traffi-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he dismissed her. “Just say you wanted some dick and call it a night.”

Classic slut-shaming, as if Billy’s Instagram following wasn’t all models, strippers, and OnlyFans girls.

Before you could even process what was happening, the blurbs of their argument skidded to a halt when Max finally broke. Billy watched in subtle amusement as she screamed, her fist meeting the wall repeatedly out of frustration.

Reactive abuse is Billy’s favorite abuse tactic.

“Someone who’s not guilty wouldn’t react like this,” Billy quipped in a sing-song voice, eyeing the new hole in the dry wall that Max had created.

There was no sense in backtracking if Billy already got what he wanted. Max just needed the last word. Before any of you could process it, an acrylic storage box soared through the air, hitting Billy right in the groin. He roared in agony while Max attempted to collect herself off to the side. She still saw red.

That’s when the knife came out.

One slice to the brow and it was over. To ensure the last word was his to keep, Billy ended up chucking a knife at your sister.

“OHMYGOD!” Max shrieked repeatedly, entering the ‘freeze’ stage of her shock. “OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, I’M BLEEDING! I’M BLEEDING, THERE’S BLOOD!”

It was then you realized, the little boy you vowed to protect and refused to leave behind was long gone. Dad’s essence had taken his place now.

“You just don’t know when to FUCKING STOP, do you?” you exclaimed, putting pressure on Max’s eyebrow with a washcloth as she wailed. Suddenly it was Dad you were talking to. They had the same apathetic, dead look in their eyes. “I don’t care who said or did what, throwing a fucking KNIFE?”

“Me?” Billy tutted. “You wanna call me crazy, who did that?” He was referring to the hole in the wall. “And who was the one to throw shit first? EXACTLY. EXACTLY.”

While Billy was technically correct, he would never admit to what he did to provoke you two.

“So you can both get out if you’d like. Be my fucking guests.”

You and Max exchanged one look. The look. It was time. You both were ready and now had the green light. Now was the chance to bolt without immediate consequences.

So you and your sister spent several minutes rummaging through your pre-packed belongings while Billy continued to shit-talk aimlessly around the rental you shared. The place soon reeked of cheap bud and gas station gin. Trash bags were soon filled with your favorite clothes and you shoved them into as many of your childhood suitcases as possible. Struggling to see past your tear-coated eyes, you reached for your books, the ones you've hollowed out 300 pages deep to pocket all the tips from your waitressing job, and shoved the loose bills into your crossbody. You’d sort through them later. Lastly, you popped the cap off the bottom of your salt lamp. There was a pre-paid Visa you bought several months beforehand waiting for you. With trembling hands, you grasped it and whispered a gratitude to the Universe before tucking it neatly into the back pocket of your Levi’s.

When it was all said and done and everything was loaded into your car, you focus on the hole in the dry wall one last time.

Never again.

Billy was complacent throughout the entirety of the event. You glared at him while he continued to soothe himself with drugs and alcohol, refusing to own up to the irreversible damage he caused your little family.

“SIS,” Max boomed from outside. “LET’S GO!”

A part of you used to pity Billy, but now his destructive behavior took away any ounce of guilt you felt for leaving him.

You never fought back until you had no other choice. Similarly, and tragically, Billy shared that very sentiment.

Who the villain is in the narrative relied solely on whose lens you are looking through.

It took you by surprise all the time. How could identical twins, who grew up in the same environment, end up so different from one another?

“I love you, though you hurt me so. Now I’m gonna pack my things and go." - Tainted Love by Soft Cell

There are two wolves inside of everyone.

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"Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you" - DNA by Lia Marie Johnson

The heart-wrenching ballad by Lia Marie Johnson dissolves as you crank the dial to the left. Music is always depressing when Max has the aux chord.

"Did you hear what I said?" you question her.

Max abruptly sits up and reorients herself, attempting to shrug off the trance “DNA” had put her in for a few minutes.

"No, sorry. What'd you say again?"

"Do you need a bathroom break?"

"I'll go at the airport.”

"Okay, but if you change your mind and decide to take a leak one last time, I'll be happy to oblige.”

Swami’s is also an exit away and you’re just fixing for a hot meal before takeoff. But you don’t directly say that. Besides, Max loses her appetite when she’s upset and may only have room for shitty airplane food.

“I’ll just eat on the plane.”

Stale pretzels and flat soda it is.

Despite the decrease in appetite, Max is holding up well. As well as anyone-who-was-nearly-stabbed-by-her-brother-and-is-now-moving-states-away-from-everything-she’s-ever-known-with-her-sister could be.

It wasn’t your first choice to leave California. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid it. But nonetheless, anyone with a conscious and only $4,000 to their name would make the wise decision to move away to somewhere more affordable.

Enter your online friend, Robin.

Working ungodly hours six days a week to pay the bills took up so much of your time that you had no friends in San Diego — albeit high school friends who would have never guessed how you and Billy turned out. Those friends had happy families anyway. They couldn’t hold space for you. Your online friend Robin, who you met on an art forum, however knew your family dynamic and was there for everything. But she lived in Indiana with her partner and was never able to offer you any physical comfort.

You entertained Robin’s idea of moving to where she lives, a small town in Indiana called Hawkins just 20 minutes southeast of the city. Living under the radar to get your ducks in a row seemed like such a perfect plan, but you didn’t want to do so at the expense of Max losing her only support system she had outside of you.

Moving would’ve also meant pulling her out of school, which wouldn’t be possible because Billy was her legal guardian. Now that she’s graduated high school, and today is her 18th birthday, the game has changed completely.

“Donovan texted me happy birthday,” Max reports, finally disclosing a fragment of her inner conscience. “Thought it was sweet.”

You can’t help but smile. "You thought he wouldn’t?”

She refrains from rolling her eyes and shifts them towards the rocky beach cliffs outside her window.

“You know,” you add. “I really think you two could make long distance work. I’ve never seen so much chemistry between two people before.”

Max scoffs. "Yeah right. Long distance with a guy going to Santa Barbara for college?” She fiddles with the strings of the knit poncho resting atop her lap. “I'd be breaking my own heart."

You bite your lip to stop the waterworks. Max doesn’t deserve any of this. She deserves to enjoy bonfires with her skater friends, surf all the tubular waves, and go on all the nature hikes without worrying about her stepbrother’s codependent-fits-of-rage waiting for her when she comes home. She deserves to eat fried funnel cake at the county fair and share a kiss with the boy of her dreams atop a Ferris wheel on the 4th of July. She deserves a San Diego summer, not a summer spent in hiding from her abuser in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

Max decides to change the subject.

“So what’s Robin like? Your online friend.”

“She’s very sweet,” you breathe. “Been, uh, telling her about Billy for a long time now. Her arms have been open since day one.”

“And her girlfriend?”

“Vicky’s the best,” you insist. “A match made in heaven for sure. It’s like they’re the same person, just different font.”

You get a giggle out of Max. Her laughter during such a turbulent time is like music to your ears. The non-depressing kind.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t get you a gift this year.”

She side eyes you.

“What are you talking about? You quite literally gave me the best gift of all.”

“Did I? What did I give you?”

“You gave me safety.”

And with that, you give yourself a mental pat on the back, confident you made the right choice despite how foreign everything currently felt. The conversation dies down while you and Max ride on, driving further and further away from the Park and Ride you spent the night at, off Coast Highway, and onto the I-5 one last time.

Boarding the plane is a swift process. Your plane is a two-seater, so Max gets the window and you get the aisle. After receiving your snacks and drinks, you decide to play white noise and dissociate for the next five hours. It’s safe to do so, anyways. Liminal spaces were not something you took for granted.

Meanwhile, Max looks out the window, watching as the world she has come to know her whole life shrinks right before her eyes, before disappearing underneath a quilt of soft white cumulus clouds.

“This is 18.”

Goodbye, San Diego.

—————— ✈︎ ———————

Hello, Hawkins.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Robin incites, trudging through the miscellaneous projects that sit at her feet. “As if we weren’t DIY freaks enough, the pandemic really just amplified that.”

The pandemic was a hard time for everyone. You lost your fine dining gig and abruptly switched to UberEats to adjust to the flow of takeout. Billy couldn’t go to the gym, his happy place, and it took a toll on him mentally. Max broke quarantine multiple times to see Donovan, which didn’t sit well with your brother. He of course lashed out on her and also proclaimed that people like her were the reason why America hadn’t opened up yet.

“And I get no time at the gym!” Billy screamed. “So now I have to do this—”

You learned that a decent lamp costed $70 that night.

That wasn’t your first rodeo though. You and Billy grew up replacing furniture all the time. You two would gather up your money and spend it on replacing whatever needed replacing for Mom’s birthday. She always wanted to make your house feel like a home. Feel lived in. You and Billy thought you were heroes doing it, but it dawns on you now that you two were just babies.

“Oh!” Vicky interrupts. “Before we forget…”

You and Max watch her as she scrambles around, looking for something that she seemed ecstatic about.

“Happy birthday, Max!”

“No way, Kate Bush!” Max exclaims as she accepts the gift, an original Kate Bush vinyl record of her album Hounds of Love.

"Wow," you beam, rubbing your sister’s back. “Way to fuel her 80's hyperfixation, huh?"

“We found this at the thrift store,” Vicky boasted. “Knew we had to get it for ya.”

“It’s the real deal too," Robin adds. "Look, printed 1985.”

“It’s perfect,” Max gushes. “Can’t wait to play it on my Crosley.”

She thanks them both and hugs them before running back to the living room to get the rest of your belongings. You listen as she hums some of Kate Bush’s discography along the way.

You then observe Max as she unpacks her things one by one, slightly peppered with remnants of the California sand and the snobby fee it took to ship it all here via cargo. She then proceeds to sit on the new bed to check the springing quality, testing its bounce factor and comparing it to that of her old bed.

You let out a bittersweet sigh.

Suddenly you're eight years old, doing the same thing at the local motel Mom managed to snag a couple nights from when Dad trashed the house.

You turn to look in the mirror atop your new dresser.

Suddenly, you're Mom. Quite literally. You both have the same wavy blonde hair, scattered freckles across your nose that Billy used to call “stardust”, and the same tsunami blue eyes. It makes it no wonder why you and Dad never got along. You are Mom’s spitting image — and Billy is Dad’s.

Funny how life turns out.

You graze the crows feet at the outer corner of your eyes, realizing now how many years have silently passed you by, and then take note of the stress-defined scars in the form of eye baggage from all the sleepless nights that came as a souvenir.

You’ve put up with so much. For so long. The trauma is starting to manifest itself physically.

Robin snaps you back into present day. "So I was thinking we go to Applebee's for dinner, walk around Old Town, get you guys settled and unpacked when we return, Jenga at night, and then-"

She stops when she sees the horrified expression on your face.

“Hey…” the pitch in her comforting, raspy voice heightens. “What’s the matter?”

Your voice breaks. “It’s…” you manage. “It’s been a lot.”

Robin pats your back. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Without looking, Robin snags a few tissues from a box laying around and gives them to you. You blot the tears away, careful not to mess up the makeup you had on with the intention to make you look less…dead.

“Sue didn’t even call and wish her happy birthday. Her own mother.”

“I’m so sorry,” Robin repeats.

“Every day I watch Max store her trauma in the box... and just shove it into the corner where it gathers dust,” you continue. “If she doesn't unpack it..."

You didn’t even want to think of the collateral damage you and your brother caused her. A part of you wants to think Maxine has remained untouched from that side of you, but the dry blood on her outer brow was a reminder that it was far too late to shelter her from that.

"You see yourself in her."

"And my mom in myself,” you admit. “Now more than ever.”

You rub your eyes.

“I’m rambling, I know. It’s just… SO aggravating. Max deserves better.”

“She’s handling it really well.”

“We don’t know that. I know Max. She’s a pro at hiding her feelings.”

“She’s being strong for you, like you are for her. It’s very endearing, whether you both admit it to each other or not.”

She rubs your arm.

“For as long as Vicky and I are here, you and Maxine have a soft place to land. We are here for you. Y’all are safe.”

You two glance over at Max, who is now unpacking your Zen Basics Himalayan salt lamp. She sets it on top your new bedside table, a reupholstered one whose old wood was painted over by an earthy olive green, the old hardware replaced by eccentric shaped, neutral-toned knobs. Her Crosley sits on your floor, now playing a track off Kate Bush's vinyl while she stares out the window. Your new view for the foreseeable future.

Can't you see where memories are kept bright?

Tripping on the water like a laughing girl

Time in her eyes is spawning past life

One with the ocean and the woman unfurled

Holding all the love that waits for you here

Catch us now for I am your future

A kiss on the wind and we'll make the land.

Dinnertime comes fast, but you blame it on the time zone difference. You call shotgun and ride with Robin in the passenger seat, catching up with your best friend while Vicky and Max watch YouTube shorts in the backseat.

Robin gives you a backstory of everything you pass on the way to Applebees, from the schools to churches to family-owned gas stations. She and Vicky seem to know everyone by a first-name basis, naming random people off and knowing exactly who that is every so often. You try to stay engaged, but the only thing on your mind is where you’re going to apply for a job.

Robin drives into a plaza next.

"This used to be a mall, but now it's completely empty," Robin continues pointing to an empty building with remnants of a star symbol etched on it. "E-commerce really turned this strip into a ghost town."

"So basically, if I wanted a job, it would have to be any of these food places, an office of sorts, or an off-brand Blockbuster store?"

"Family Video is closing too," Vicky chimes in. "It's sad. But I guess Hawkins needs yet another overpriced coffee shop."

"You could always work at the gentlemen's club," Max jokes, pointing off to the side.

You turn to where she’s pointing and take note of the matte black rectangular building by the Sizzler’s. It didn’t seem out of place, but the silhouette of an exotic dancer with devil horns gave the sinister establishment away. You couldn’t read the name of the club, but a part of you tries to.

Robin slightly turns and nods in that direction. "Oh yeah. I heard the girls there make bank in tips."

“I made bank in La Jolla doing fine dining,” you point out. “Maybe I can do the same thing here. But at a similar establishment.”

“Fanciest restaurant you’ll get here is Benny’s,” Vicky says. “You’re gonna have to go to the city for fine dining. I don’t think the commute is worth.”

“Guess stripper is your best option,” Max nudges you.

You shoot a glare her way. “Very funny.”

"I know, I was joking," she scoffs. "Billy would kill you anyways."

Billy would literally go insane if you dared to work at a strip club. The slut-shaming would never end. Not that he never slut-shamed you anyway. There was always something for him to be misogynistic and hypocritical about.

Then it hits you. Billy isn't here. And you really need the money since in this day and age, $4,000 meant nothing. You peer over at the gentlemen's club one last time as it shrinks out of view the further Robin drives.

HELLFIRE.

-----------𓆩♡𓆪------------

Dungeons & Dragons.

Of course one of the very few strip clubs in Hawkins has to be the dorkiest.

But you understand the vision. Beyond the cobblestone entrance, the veil between real life and fantasy thins.

As you near the club with nothing but a purse and car keys in hand, you notice that there’s already security by the door. You’re surprised to see a leaner guy, tall and slender with soft blonde hair and a soft grin to match. He catches sight of you and greets you with a nod.

“Good afternoon,” he says. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” you nod. You reach for your wallet and give him your ID. Typical screening process. “Yourself?”

“Not too shabby,” he replies.

He examines your ID card. You notice his surprise when his eyes slightly widen before retracting shortly after. You guess that he was wondering why you are here out of all places. You peer over at his name tag while he concludes his screening. Henry.

Upon verification of your identity, the friendly security guard returns your card to you.

“Let me give you a wrist band.”

He motions for you to hold an arm out. You extend your right arm to him and watch as he gracefully pulls a paper wristband out of his pocket, clasping it into place with the side that read “21+” facing upwards.

You take the time to admire the gentleness of this man. The softness of his face. His dreamy gaze.

“Any weapons on you?”

“Uh…” you stammer. “Just pepper spray?”

A laugh escapes from his nostrils. “That’s fine, my dear.”

“I hope I don’t have to use it.”

“Don’t worry, darling. Under my watch, you won’t.”

Henry gently strokes your hand before motioning you inside.

“Enjoy the show.”

“Thanks,” you smile politely.

It’s a slow afternoon, but granted no one goes to a strip club at 2 PM. The Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club was comprehensively laced with playful innuendos. The accent wall by the entrance showcases an array of chains and handcuffs. Kukris, nun-chucks, and flails all of different variants and sizes are displayed on the walls, the point of balance being a vintage pulp print of a metal puppeteer. On the print, "OBEY YOUR MASTER" is written in edgy bubble letters.

Kinky.

And there’s a bonus of this themed club: the ladies are dressed in cloaks. You watch as beautiful women from all walks of life strut around the joint, leaving the clients with only their imagination to guess what’s underneath the tantalizing, medieval velvet.

There are LED signs that lit up corners of the space, indicating what they were for. KAS’ KORNER: GRAB A BITE, DRAGON'S BREATH: HOOKAH LOUNGE, and POTIONS — the bar.

You catch a glimpse of the private show rooms, or at least what you think are the private show rooms.

The LED sign to those rooms read, "I PUT A SPELL ON YOU AND NOW YOU'RE MINE."

The general seating area for the main event reads VECNA’S LAIR.

The Dungeon Master of this joint thought of every possible detail he could and ironed it into perfection.

Surely, someone who truly plays would adore every aspect of all the details, but it was evident that everyone came here for the same reason:

Girls, girls, girls.

You walk over to the bar to see two men conversing behind it.

One looked to be in his late 20s, with scruffy chestnut brown hair, some tired eyes, peach fuzz, and a patterned shirt decorated in a kaleidoscope of colors — a shirt meticulously calculated by quite possibly a girlfriend.

The other looked like he had another year left before being allowed to be behind that counter... of course judging by the “Hawkins High School class of 2021” on his insulated water bottle in his hand, a cracked iPhone in the other, and Beats with a small basketball sticker on it.

When you appear in their periphery, the conversation between the two gradually comes to a stop.

“Whoa,” the younger man hums. “New face. Welcome.”

“Hi. What do you recommend?”

“In terms of what?” the younger man questions slyly. There’s a timidness to the young man’s spirit, making his flirtatious demeanor somewhat dorky. The age appropriate bartender nudges him.

“Drinks, hotshot,” you refrain from chuckling. “Drinks.”

“Depends what you’re into,” the younger man replies, the slyness continuing. “If you’re into light liquors, Jonathan can make you a mean Cîroc with pineapple juice. But if you’re more into the dark stuff…”

He gestures up and down on himself.

“Then look no further.”

“That was very painful to listen to,” the older one who you assume is Jonathan cringes. “Can you get anymore corny?”

“Ta-ha!” the younger one tsks. “He said could I get any more corny. Can you get any more bitchless?”

“I have a girlfriend, Lucas.”

“Emphasis on the singular sense.”

“Nance is all I need.”

"Nancy is all you can pull," Lucas chuckles. "With that goofy ass shirt, man. Stop playing with me."

So you weren’t the only one who thought the shirt was absolutely ridiculous. It had "Bad Bitch Repellant" written all over it.

Jonathan whacks Lucas with the cloth that was sitting atop his shoulder. You request a double Tito’s straight on the rocks from Jonathan to which he automatically starts to make. Lucas continues to interrogate you.

“As you heard, my name is Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.” He extends his hands to you. “But my favorite ladies call me 'Dark Chocolate'. You can call me, 'The Man of Your Dreams' though.”

You take the youngster’s hand in yours and shake it. His heavy locker room cologne makes your nose swell, an uneven mix of what you believe is Axe and — is that Dior?

You tell Lucas your name then hit him with a, “But you can call me ‘When You’re Thirty’.”

Lucas laughs at your joke, beaming up at you as he does so. Then he nods to communicate a gracious fair enough. The flirting, you could sense, was in good nature, playful.

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugs. “Do you have a younger sister by any chance?”

“Oh in your dreams, mister.”

Jonathan chuckles and rubs Lucas’s back.

"That’s enough man, can you go buss that table over there?"

Lucas gives a thumbs up before putting his Beats on and walking away. You divert your attention back to Jonathan who is now done with making your drink.

“Alright… I got a Tito’s double shot — straight — on the rocks,” Jonathan announces as he slides your vice on over. He studies you as you take the drink and request to keep the tab open. “I’m inclined to ask. Are you okay?”

When you’re not around Billy, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It wouldn’t hurt to trauma dump on a stranger. Especially one who asked.

“Pretty far from okay,” you answer before chugging it. “Can’t you tell? It’s 2PM and I’m consoling…” You slosh the drink around in your hand. “…my man Tito.”

“I see that.”

“It’s been a long day,” you continue. “It’s my second day in Hawkins so I thought I’d scope this place out. Dilly dally for a bit.”

“Second day?” Jonathan questions. “As in…ever?”

“Yeah, just moved here.”

The bartender looks around as if he’s missed something. “But…why?”

It’s a fair reaction. If the welcome sign is correct, Hawkins only has a population of 1,314 people. 1,316 now including you and Maxine.

“My friend lives here and convinced me to make the move,” is what you explain, though it only seems to make Jonathan more confused. “Couldn’t take the heat Cali was dishing out. Hawkins seemed like the perfect place to slow down.”

“Oh man,” Jonathan mutters. “California to here, what a change.”

“You lived here long?”

“Lived here my whole life,” he answers as a matter of factly.

“What made you get a job at Hellfire?”

Jonathan didn’t have to think. “I love booze.”

You laugh together, raising your half-empty class to clink his invisible one.

“I hate 9-5s,” Jonathan draws on. “Working from home ‘bout damn near drove me insane, don’t know how my mom does it with such ease. My boss here smokes me out on occasion and my friends make me nachos.” He smiles. “Can’t think of anything better.”

“There we go.”

"I’ve also just been looking out for women my whole life," he adds. "Bout time I get some financial compensation for it, no?"

“Amen to that,” You chug the last of your drink. “Thanks for your service.”

"Pleasure is mine. Anything else I can do for ya?"

You think. "Hm, probably not you, but maybe the hiring manager can do something for me."

"You're looking to work here?" he clarifies as you nod. "Oh sweet, you're going to wanna talk to Eddie. He's the owner."

"And a dweeb," says a significantly younger looking fellow as he slides into the conversation.

“Here we go.”

In front of you now is a gentleman around Lucas’s age with wild curly brown hair. You watch as he helps himself to a club soda, dunking three large wedges of lemon into his cup as well.

The guy offers you a playful, pearly white grin. “Eddie may own a nice club with some smokin' hot babes, but he's got no game whatsoever."

“Hey Dustin.”

“Sup, man.”

“You think so?" you challenge him.

"I know so,” the boy who you now know as Dustin insists. “Can't talk up a chick to save his life."

"Yeah," Jonathan says, half-jokingly. "He's the bitchless one."

Dustin glances between you both, slightly puzzled.

You shake your head. "No way."

"I wouldn't say he's that bad," Dustin says. "I actually think he's seeing someone casually. But in general, dude's got zero rizz."

"Projecting are we?" Jonathan nudges him.

“HELL. NO.” Dustin booms. You attempt to refrain from laughing. “My game is what got me the baddest gal at science camp. Eddie? Clumsy as hell, stutters on his words, he's got the anxiety level of someone who drinks cold brew on an empty stomach… Now that I say it out loud, I think he does drink cold brew on an empty stomach. Some chicks dig it though, which is good for him.”

Curly was fun to observe. Once he’s done talking down on the club owner, Dustin politely walks over and shakes your hand, bowing to you like you’re a princess of sorts. You later find it that like Lucas, Dustin works as a bus boy and server, and his girlfriend makes sure that he remains in Kas’ Korner at all times. Dustin has about two years left before legally being permitted behind the POTIONS bar, but that doesn’t stop him from using it as his own storage shed.

You watch as he grabs some deodorant and hair pomade from an old shoe box under the counter.

“Anyways, later,” Dustin holds up a peace sign, starting towards the door. “I'm not on today, I'm just hitting the gym with Steve."

“Later, man!” Jonathan calls after him.

“Deuces. Say hello to Dark Chocolate for me.”

Before he could get any further, the loud swinging of a door closeby causes him to halt in place.

“ALRIGHT!” a loud, gruff voice booms from that direction. “Which one of you shitheads forgot to take inventory on the 10th?!”

You can’t help but turn your body towards the ruckus. And to your own pleasant surprise, you don’t regret it. Emerging from the door comes the possible shift lead, a tall and broad man with medium length wavy brown hair, chocolate-colored, youthful doe eyes that contradicted the deep lines on his face, bleach white Chuck Taylor’s, ripped black jeans, and a Hellfire Club baseball tee with the logo smack-dab in the middle.

The man looked to be in his mid to late 20s, with an assertiveness in his stride. His lips, a perfectly formed bow with a smirk-like undertone. The cool rings that rest upon his fingers look icy as they sway at his side, shining in contrast to his dark clothing.

The man is too tunnel-visioned to see where he was going. But that doesn’t stop Dustin from looking absolutely mortified.

“The 10th and the 11th,” the man clarifies. “So for all we know, we might need new kegs and ground chili, which is one more thing I have to d-”

Finally he looks up, with you being the first thing he sees. Proximity taking him aback, he snaps out of his stress-induced trance and softens up at the sight of you. You meet his eyes, big and beautiful with long wispy lashes and you can’t help but mimic the flutter in your heart in the form of a smile.

“Whoa.” He says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Whoa, indeed.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s Eddie’s first day back, he tends to get a little in the zone,” Dustin explains.

Eddie.

Does that mean…

“Are you the hiring manager?”

You didn’t know who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the man in front of you. He must be proud of himself, having such a successful business so early in the game.

Eddie gathers himself quickly.

“Dungeon Master, hiring manager, manager, owner, sanitations, re-stocker,” Mr. Jack-of-all-trades confirms. “I do it all.” He grimaces at Dustin. "Since you know, some people don't wanna work."

"You said I can have off!" Dustin exclaims defensively. "I worked for you before the weekend already and I wasn’t even on the 10th and 11th, fuck outta here."

All it takes is a scowl his way from the boss and Dustin is radio silent. The look on Eddie's face definitely said "Watch your tone". Eyes are all on you once more soon after.

Eddie’s gaze softens when he looks at you.

“Were you…looking to apply?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “As a dancer. I’d like to perform here.”

“You don’t sound too confident.”

“Some guys like shy girls,” you shrug.

He laughs, a dark honey kind of laugh that just oozed from the back of his throat. “That they do.” His voice deepens drastically. Eddie studies you. “Any dancing experience?”

“Dancing, yes.”

“Stripping experience?”

“None.”

“Hm,” Eddie says. “What do you have experience in?”

“I danced for a bit…I have good core strength,” you explain vaguely. “And I’ve worked in the restaurant industry so I’d say customer service is my superpower.”

Eddie soaks in the information.

“I know how to talk to people,” you continue. “I know the right things to say. Favorite pass time is upselling drinks. And dessert…”

You wait for Eddie to take the low hanging fruit. He doesn’t.

"Any experience with the pole?”

Your cheeks grow hot. You decide to lie.

"No.”

“Kinda essential for this profession, sweetheart.”

"I know," you respond humbly. "I wouldn’t doubt it for a second..." you scan the room. “So uh, do I need a permit to perform here?”

“Nah, Hawkins is a lawless wasteland pretty much,” he sighs placing his hands on his hips. “And my club does things a little different anyways. The ladies also don’t pay to perform, we pay them to.”

Shit. Strippers pay to perform at venues?

“The dining experience is what brings the base revenue in,” Lucas explains, returning from wherever he had been. “The ladies are a luxury.”

“And should be treated as such,” Jonathan chimes in.

“I take it you don’t work at any other clubs?” Eddie questions judging by your wide eyes attempting to take in every bit of information that has been dumped on you. The man sees right through your mask.

“No, but I-”

“I personally like to give everyone a chance,” Eddie says. “So don’t worry babe, you’re good. Even though you don’t have any experience, your energy tells me that you have potential. Wanna show us what you can do?”

Your heart sinks. The handsome club owner called you babe. And you’re also being asked to perform with the little experience you have — in front of girls who had tons of experience.

“Here? Now?”

Eddie nods.

You weren’t prepared to dance today. But with your sister and the mountain of debt on your mind, you are willing to do anything. So you walk over to Jonathan and tell him what song you feel most comfortable performing to and stretch as he takes the time to find it. When all is said and done, you make your way to the icy pillar made of chrome steel that was calling for your attention.

You exhale deeply.

Back to the old stomping grounds. The last time you worked with a pole you were wearing Heeley’s and light up sneakers. Of course in place of the horny spectators there were playground supervisors, and the only “bars” there were monkey bars. Oh, and you were 8, not 28.

The slut-shaming still existed, though. One time a boy told you that you were acting like a ‘hoe’ for trying to do a trick upside down. To Billy’s retaliation though. Before you knew it, the same boy was being shoved down and dragged across the wood chips, acquiring a series of splinters along the way. Admin phoned home. You and Billy got spanked. But, of course, Billy had no regrets. While you both cooled off together, you remember him grazing your hand, telling you he’d beat that kid up “a gajillion times over”.

He kept that promise. Except as you two grew older, it was you he was doing it to. A gajillion times over.

You laugh at the bittersweet nostalgia.

“Whenever you’re ready, babe,” Eddie says.

You give Jonathan a thumbs up to play your song selection. Soon, Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club is filled with the catchy, seductive tune that is Layla by Eric Clapton.

You start with a small stroll around the pole. Then a dramatic dip to flaunt your bouncy golden locks. Soon, the women of Hellfire gather around with the men following soon after to watch you work your magic in Vecna’s crowded Lair.

If muscle memory is in your favor, they are in for a good show.

What will you do when you get lonely

No one waiting by your side?

You've been running, hiding much too long

You know it's just your foolish pride

Eddie claims a seat at a throne directly in front of the pole. He studies your technique, your movements, your facial expressions. You aren’t sure if reality is projecting onto you or if you’re dizzy from all the spinning, but you almost see a slight smile spread across the club owner’s face. It prompts you to keep going.

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

It’s a lot harder, your techniques and tricks. Most likely since you weigh more than 50 pounds now and had to exert more energy to keep yourself balanced an aligned. But nonetheless, you persist.

Tried to give you consolation

Your old man had let you down

Like a fool, I fell in love with you

You turned my whole world upside down

You buck your hips upward from you back arch to go into an upside down position. It earns you some hooting and cheering from the crowd.

“You better work, mamas!” a dancer cheers.

“I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT!”

“YOU GO GIRL!”

“YAAAS!”

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, I'm begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

Eddie watches intently, leaning backwards with his hands clasped forward. You feel his eyes burn through you, from the top of your head down to your toes. You feel as if he’s mentally scoring you like you’re at a competition, but the sisterhood that cheers you on makes you feel slightly less intimidated.

“SHE’S SO GOOD!” comes a high-pitched voice in the crowd. “I FREAKING LOVE HER!”

You turn to look at your own personal cheerleader, a bright-eyed cute little redhead with pigtails with an outfit that looks like an ode to Britney Spears’ “Hit Me Baby One More Time”. She has cherry hair ties that hold her two pigtails at the bottom.

You watch her clap and jump up and down, cheering you on with a beam in her eyes that made you feel like your souls have been friends for decades.

Motivated to attempt more risqué moves, you jump into the splits before kicking your legs around to end on your knees.

Clapping and whistling erupts from the lair. Once it dies down, Eddie stands up, offering you a delighted series of slow claps as he makes his way towards you.

"That was really good, Shy Girl. I like how you finished your set."

“Aw, thanks Eddie.”

He walks around you.

"Go like this?" Eddie does a stretching motion, lifting his hand up.

You imitate him and reach up.

"Okay, and... turn like this? Then pop your ass out a bit more."

The word rolled off the club owner's tongue like it was nothing. It was done in a way that was professional, a hint of respect in his tone with no sort of ulterior motive.

You swallow hard, attempting to internally tame the goosebumps on rising upon your skin. He’s just giving feedback, he’s just giving feedback. This is a professional line of work.

You do as he says as he circles around you, fingers grazing on the cool floor of the stage just inches away from your thighs. He taps them in thought.

"For a beginner you’re pretty damn good,” he says.

“Yeah?” you look up at him and smile.

“Yeah,” his voice deepens. “You’re a natural. All that shyness just went away.”

Well, it’s about to return, you think to yourself.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Not in this specific setting.”

There’s a slight shift in his eyes as his imagination wanders. The dimples at the side of his mouth concave slightly.

“I gotcha.”

Eddie clears his throat. “So uh, when can you start?”

Today is Wednesday. You have tomorrow, Friday, and the weekend to settle you and Max in and make any last minute stops. Then the appointment with the other loan officer and DMV appointment on Monday. Tuesday afternoons are dry — everywhere so that left the earliest you can start as

"Next Tuesday? In the evening?"

A soft snort escapes from the club owner’s nose.

"Driest night of the week," he comments, looking around his club.

He turns back to you.

"But a good time for orientation. Works for me, Shy Girl. Can I call you that?”

You smirk. “So I got the job?”

He nods.

“Then you can call me what you want,” you smile shaking his hand. “In this case I’m Shy Girl Hargrove.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles. He knows you’re flirting. Eddie accepts your hand and shakes it firmly.

“Eddie. Pleased to formally meet you. And welcome to Hellfire.”

You two exchange contact information for professional purposes before he leaves. You study Eddie as he sees himself out, planting a firm, teasing smack on Lucas’s stomach on his way and whispering something to Jonathan as well.

Your cheerleader from the crowd excitedly makes her way over.

“I know a dancer slash gymnast when I see one,” she chirps. “I’m Chrissy. Stage name is Cherry.”

You two shake hands and exchange further compliments with one another. Your heart swells when you realize you’re slowly starting to find community.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Others come and say hello, but you’ve tuned out all the faces because all you can think about is Eddie. His demeanor. The way he carries himself. His presence alone was something so intoxicating that it lingered around the place in his absence.

Your heart flutters.

“Oh, Hargrove!” Jonathan says. “Before you go I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to worry about the drink.”

“Oh?” you respond. “No?”

“Eddie says it’s on the house.”

You smile and Jonathan returns the favor, making sure you see him when he voids your entire tab. As you wave bye to all your spectators, you release a grateful sigh. You felt very humbled about this new, yet unexpected beginning.

The happiness soon wears off when the events that just unfolded dawn on you. Suddenly, the flutter in your heart moves to your stomach, settling in a way that feels eerie. The unknown is pestering you again. Wrong, but oh so right and necessary.

You take in the area around you. You have a place to call home. You’re a stripper now. Your boss just bought your drink. You’re going to have money coming in. Oh, and YOU’RE A STRIPPER NOW.

Then it dawns on you. You need to go shopping.

#Spotify #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #hellfire club #Eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie munson fics

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wingedblooms · 3 months

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Stone Mother

Spoilers for Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel’s bonus chapter below (yes, I read it; I couldn’t help myself). Don’t proceed if you don’t want any spoilers connected to hofas.

“Stone Mother” began playing, its rolling, thumping drums offsetting the wild, yet mellow, guitars. And then Josie’s voice filled the tunnel, sharp yet soaring, accented by Laurel’s sweet, clear backups. The sound was foreign, earthy—haunting. […] The wraith-like harmonies echoed off the stones, until the rock sounded as if it was singing. (Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel bonus)

But the music seemed to linger, like a ghostly echo through the caves.

And with each mile onward, she could hear Azriel humming softly to himself. The rolling, wild melody of “Stone Mother” flowed off his lips, and she could have sworn even the shadows danced at the sound. (Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel bonus)

Sarah felt it was important to describe Stone Mother in detail—wild and mellow and earthy. Haunting. Wraith-like. Ghostly.

My first thought (as you might expect) was of the divine trio: Mother, Cauldron, Fate.

“Three stones for the faces of the Mother,” Amren said upon seeing Nesta’s raised brows. “Four bones…for whatever reason the charlatans came up with that I can’t be bothered to remember.” (acowar)

I love how witchy this quote is about scrying, as it specifically refers to the three faces of the Mother (like a Three-Faced Goddess). It especially reminds me of the sister peaks and the Cauldron, which is a mother encased in stone.

The wild, mellow, earthy song flows off of Azriel’s lips long after he hears it. Wild, mellow, earthy. Now, let’s pretend to ignore the fact that Azriel listens very carefully to Nesta’s description of how she dealt with becoming Fae (why would that be, truly? who else would be dealing with that?). Who do those words remind you of?

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)

Elain’s solid, dark wooden rose is next to a figurine of the Mother. Something wild, mellow, earthy—just like the third sister herself, a gentle gardener.

And the harmonies? They’re wraith-like. Just like Elain’s friends…

“Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes. “Wraiths are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone—you name it. I don’t even want to know how those two were conceived. High Fae will stick their cocks anywhere.”

I choked on what could have been a laugh or a cough. “They make good spies.”

“Why do you think they’re now whispering in Azriel’s ear that I’m in here?”

“I thought they answered to Rhys.”

“They answer to both, but they were trained by Azriel first.” (acomaf)

…who act a bit ghostly, walking through stone like shadows on the daily. If Elain is connected to that lovely darkness we see roaming around, she might bring us even closer to the Cauldron Stone Mother in the next book. Commands be damned.

#hofas spoilers #hofas #bryce azriel nesta bonus #stone mother #mother cauldron fate #elain archeron #nuala and cerridwen #lovely darkness #this is hinting how the crossover impacts acotar #elriel

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bowlofsoob · 5 months

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O4 thank you, next — awkward fancalls

notes; all of soobin’s accounts are yn and all of yns accounts are soobin until the end of their birthday

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The call went through and you were soon faced with your two best friends staring right at you, or in this case Soobin, through your phone. For a split second you thought they were frozen from the way they weren’t moving until Hueningkai let out a screech of surprise and threw the phone.

“Hello?” You called out in a voice that wasn’t your own as you now had a view of their ceiling. A few seconds later Taehyun picked up the phone and slowly turned it to face them once again, but now both of their mouths were wide open.

“I can’t believe you’re Soobin,” Taehyun slowly murmurs, taking about a hundred screenshots, “Can you say my name?”

“Shut the fuck up and help me, Taehyun,” you deadpan, annoyed they weren’t seeing the severity of the situation.

“Don’t use his pretty mouth to curse!” Taehyun reprimands, “Now please make a cheek heart, I need a new profile photo for my stan twitter account.”

“I hate you guys,” you sigh, but you oblige.

“This feels like a fancall!” Hueningkai says as he claps, “Can you do aegyo?”

You’re about ready to hang up after that.

“Do you two believe me now?” You ask, nervously rubbing at your face, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Live life as Soobin I suppose?” Taehyun suggests, still intently staring at you, “Wow, his skin is beautiful up close.”

“I guess so,” you murder defeatedly, “Wait.”

You squint as the phone lights up with a notification. You tilt down the phone as it vibrates and you see your twitter username flashing across the top of your screen.

“Oh my god, I think Soobin’s texting me!” you gasp, “I’ll text you guys later.”

“Wait! How big is—,”

Thankfully, you end the call before Hueningkai can finish his sentence.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

ᝰ✧ — masterlist — prev | next

the reason the group chats/contact names are different is cus they’re on each others phones so hope it makes sense

comment on this post if i can use ur username in future chapters as a fan account!

୨୧✧ — author notes; sorry y’all my macbook fucking broke and i didn’t wanna type this up on my ipad 😭 GOT A NEW ONE THO SO FINALLY AN UPDATE FOR YALL

୨୧✧ — synopsis; in a universe where you and your soulmate swap bodies on your twenty-first birthday and every birthday after that. world renowned soloist soobin is set to have a concert on the day of your guys’ shared birthday, a firm believer he doesn’t have a soulmate and wants nothing to do with them. you, a college student who hasn’t listened to a single one of his songs, swap bodies with him on the day of your final exam and his big concert. you’re now under the public eye for ruining his career and soobin has to deal with your wrath since he failed your exams. he must also process the fact that he does in fact have a soulmate, one he couldn’t care less about.

ᝰ✧ — [1/3] taglist is open! @cartierfiles @lunavixia @jungwonderz @bubblytaetae @goldennika @zzzavid @astrozuya @odisdad @destairea @iwaplant @itssaturdaytoday @hoodiebangtan @sunseeking-cryptid @outerspace02a @buttersmama @luvtyun @vianna99 @matcha-binz @doumachi @pinghyuka @soobsdior @binluvsu @tyussday @xavi-in-kpopland @bervaose @birdie-vhs @hearts4huening @reyarain @gyubatuu @tridentgumfreshy @rjsmochii @ckline35 @mochiixsstuff @bluuswanrina @beomnioa @bluxjun @yelsuki @gugggu6gvai @thesassy-mia @222brainrot @itswinteress @cindywasneverhere @kimgyuuu @fatoompie @haohyo @jongseongslvr @soobinsman @wolfytae-exe @ener-energy @malarign @tocupid @phtogravi

#txt smau #txt x reader #soobin smau #soobin x gender neutral reader #soobin x reader #txt x gender neutral reader #soobin x yn #soobin x male reader #soobin crack #soobin x you #soobin x gn reader #choi soobin x y/n #choi soobin x reader #soobin texts #soobin fic #choi soobin x you #soobin x y/n #thank you next smau

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aphpuffinchild · 3 months

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since it's out i can finally post my piece for @hws-anthology as well as the timelapse for it. as is arguably all my hetalia work, it's a love letter to my friend @pyrrhocorax 's fic Sendlingur og Sandlóa - i'll ramble a bit about how much it means to me, as well as the symbolism i wormed into this piece below the read more :)

i originally had two pages planned for this piece, potentially more - the fic is a good 74k words long and certainly not light on scenes i could and wanted to pull from, but various things led into other various things and one page was all i could manage, so i tried to cram in what i could, so here's that (in a rough, somewhat arbitrary order of focal points)

the opening chapter! the car is a framing device for the piece as much as it is for the journey the characters will take following that first chapter, so i wanted to use the car window/shapes as a literal framing device in my drawing

joi, shaky at best in his sense of self, sees no reflection in the window, instead there's a silhouetted raven to signify the search he must go on to find it

while not perfectly transcribed by virtue of wonky (plus an extra) line(s), the notes coming from joi's headphones are the opening to the song sendlingur og sandlóa, the fic's namesake, which a loved one kindly transposed by ear for me for the purpose of this piece

in a similar vein, the stickers on joi's suitcase are of a purple sandpiper and a ringed plover, the birds after which the song is named - here they are as transparents and in their original colours

i wanted to create a sliiight impression that joi is the one knocking over the chessboard, representing his repeated rejections of it (both physically, and the things it represents)

the chess pieces were also chosen specifically! originally i was going to use a black rook and a white pawn to match chapter 41, but for the sake of having alternating colours and the rest of my metaphors working (iirc) i swapped those colours around. that, and i wanted to match chapter 13's white king and black pawn - the black pawn stuck, the white king was colour swapped for colour cohesion reasons like the other's. (visual contrast was important to me, but the white queen blending slightly into the sky was okay for symbolism reasons) (there was also black king, white rook from chapter 3, so it all worked out anyway - there's a lot of chess in this story and i only had space for so many pieces and colours, basically)

speaking of which, the black pawn is for joi (chapter 13), the white queen is for halle (someone who, from joi's perspective, can go anywhere, vs joi's pawn, someone to be used -> see chapter 35 and perspective).

the king piece is falling (but hasn't quite fallen) between halle and henrik (chapter 3, 7, 13, though i most clearly thought of 19)

the person in the top right corner is eduard! i desperately wanted to include him because i think he's deserved it, and i considered a lot of ways of working him in, but i think an ambiguous silhouette that isn't Quite part of the main picture works better narratively

note also that he's separated from the other's through a red curtain, to represent the iron curtain (naturally) i wanted it to match ber + tino's part in some way, to sorta emphasise their similar foundations despite being split apart across places

the flowers at eduard's window are placed and chosen purposefully as well! orange/red zinnia's outside (for familial ties, steadfastness, friendship and remembrance) for what eduard puts out in to the world, then lily-of-the-valley for tino and cornflower for him inside to show what he wants to hold close :)

halle and joi are the only characters with their eyes open - halle looks towards the viewer/author/reader/joi, while joi looks away all together. if you've read the fic (which i assume you have because i can't imagine this is interested to read otherwise) you probably don't need me to explain why that reflects their roles in the story

similarly, every character apart from the brothers is turned towards another in some way (eduard does not count when his flowers do, and his role in the story is based around that disconnect partially anyway) tino towards ber and eduard (and hana, i guess), ber towards tino, henrik to halle, halle to henrik (though he looks away - his values are elsewhere even when they are together). joi, at best, looks at his own reflection in the window

the colour scheme, while arbitrarily picked from gradient maps based on what i felt "fit" has been approved by the author as being very "SoS core"

finally, the poem on the note, chapter 46

all that being said, i can and will now talk about my personal relationship with SoS, so unless that interests you i imagine the post is done now! thank you for reading :)

the first comment i posted on SoS is dated 2nd November 2016 - logging into my old account i can see i bookmarked it on the 31st August that same year, so i can safely assume i first read or at least found it then. a month after my first comment, i posted another on a different account, pouring a few bits of my heart out and the author responded! we went back and forth a bit and eventually talked (i think) via tumblr for a little, but the majority of our conversations were via skype for whatever reason (we didn't call, just texted). it was a lot of me looking for writing advice, insight to their work/process/skill, talking about The Brothers and talking about psychology/the brain on a general and personal level. i think if i read our conversations back now i'd cringe, given that i was an awkward, fumbling 16 year old, but i dont think anything else wouldve been fitting given the subject matter. eventually our conversations fizzled out and we stopped talking for years, but i'd go back to SoS routinely and cry.

in may of 2021, i posted another comment during what in hindsight was definitely another relatively minor mental health episode - i think it was half trying to emphasise how important the work was to me on the off chance pyrr saw it, and half a bid for connection since i had no idea if they even remembered us talking. i assumed nothing would come of it, and for about a year that was true - until pyrr responded after all in february of 2022 - i'm happy to say we've been talking consistently on discord since then. i feel a little weird speaking too intimately about our friendship as it is now since it's not just my story to tell (though pyrr, if you're reading this) (i'm sure you are at some point) (you're welcome to talk about it however, i just didn't want to without consulting you) but i can say with some certainty that it's at least a little bit my fault that we have a sequel now - cementing my place as official number #1 fan and validating the me from almost 8 years ago in a way i don't think either of us processes well.

it's here that i feel the need to talk about my other dear friend, @hws-lceland , who i'm grateful to have met through the zine's discord server. i'm sure they're reading this too, and a lot of what our relationship means to me is stuff that's probably a bit too vulnerable for either of us to speak publicly, but i *can* say that i love them very much, and i'm really grateful to have someone else to understand, and that he read SoS for me. i thought he needed it, and i hope i was right

sendlingur is...endlessly important to me. i'm aiming to not write an essay here (a goal i think i've already sorta shot in the foot) but i think it's important for me to talk about some of this a little loudly, all the same. my writing has changed because of the series - remeeting with pyrr and showing them some of my more recent work was interesting since it was apparent even to them the influences i'd taken (to be fair, in one section i explicitly asked and did borrow a format of theirs, but this goes beyond that). when i was 16 i asked my mum to read the fic in a desperate bid to be understood. i've cried reading the fic many, many times. i've signed off letters and poems with my switched around version of i'm sorry / thank you / i love you (i swap the first two around) many, many, many times, including in a close friend's wedding gift. SoS has very sincerely changed my definition of love. the name halle is a part of my abstract mindscape. id already considered changing my name to johannes anyway and this fic certainly didnt help. i've gained a friendship of 7 and a half years through it. i've gained another newer one now, too. i am not well. i wasn't well then, reading it, and it hasn't fixed me (i am worse, now, arguably), but it healed something, or at least made me feel understood. i could go on, and maybe sometime i will (there were so many things i wanted to include in my piece and pay homage to!), but for now i will thank anyone who took the time to read all this (again), and say that i look forward to experiencing the sequel

as always, i'm sorry, thank you, i love you

#hetalia #hetalia nordics #hws iceland #hws norway #hetalia iceland #hetalia norway #hetalia denmark #hetalia sweden #hws sweden #hws estonia #hetalia estonia #hetalia finland #hws finland

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 6 months

Text

When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 9: We’re Friends When You’re On Your Knees]

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…

Chapter warnings: Y'all, you are not ready for this one. Language, warfare, violence, serious injury, alcoholism/addiction, sexual content (18+), murder, Aemond "there are other Targaryens" Targaryen having feelings again (good ones?? not good ones?? both?? who knows bestie, not me!), an unexpected family reunion, must be the season of the witch... 👀

Series title is a lyrics from: "7 Minutes In Heaven" by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter title is a lyric from: "Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued" by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 8.4k.

Link to chapter list: HERE.

Taglist (more in comments): @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauraneedstochill @not-a-glad-gladiator @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @at-a-rax-ia @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @echos-muses @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @lm-txles @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @storiumemporium @insabecs @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @yawneneytiri @marbles-posts @imsolence @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @nimaharchive @anxiousdaemon @under-the-aspen-tree @amiraisgoingthruit @dd122004dd @randomdragonfires @jetblack4real @joliettes

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰💜

You watch her from the shadows of the dungeons, rusted iron, phantom echoes of falling water, chilling drafts that come from nowhere and everywhere. She has not yet noticed you. She is beautiful, regal, arrogant, even as she sits gnawing on crusts of bread and the gristle of chicken bones, scraps that Lord Larys throws to her like she’s a pig nosing its way through a trough, an animal that is clever and yet condemned. And if she is livestock, then what are you? A creature of darkness, of nightfall, lethal and treacherous, a wolf or a bat or a spider. You step forward and into a ray of light that cuts across the stones like the path of a comet.

Baela gasps and drops the tibia she’d been working on, cracking it in two, sucking out the dead-blood marrow. Her wide-set, almond-shaped eyes catch on you. She is not afraid; you have never known Daemon Targaryen’s eldest daughter to be afraid of anything. She is fascinated.

“I’m sorry,” she says, crawling across the floor of her cell. She grips the metal bars and peers out at you, kneeling there like she’s praying. You suspect Baela has never prayed to anyone or anything. “I didn’t mean to almost burn you. I didn’t realize you were standing on the steps with him until after I’d given Moondancer the order. It all happened so quickly.”

You cannot appear to be angry. You have no reason to be angry if you are Aegon’s captive. “I take no offense. I wasn’t harmed.”

“No one had any idea the Usurper was here,” Baela says. Still her eyes are bright, entranced. “We believed Dragonstone to be vacant.”

Good. You give her a dismal smirk. “No. Not so vacant after all.”

“Are you with child yet?”

A bolt shoots down your spine like cold lightning. “What?”

“That’s what he’s trying to do, isn’t it?” Baela says. “He wants an heir from you. His wife is dead, his sons are dead. He couldn’t get his claws on me or Rhaena. But you can give him a Valyrian-blooded prince.”

Aegon has never mentioned having children with you. You don’t know if this means he doesn’t want them, or if he does not wish to place demands upon you, or if he is indifferent, or if he believes it to be impossible. “I have nothing to show for his efforts.”

“Has it been unspeakably awful?” And if Baela seeks to console, this is secondary to her personal interest; she is curious, she is absorbed. Her fingers close more tightly around the iron bars. “He’s a drunk, a degenerate. He’s vile. He’s deformed. Has he tortured you? Has he violated you in a hundred different ways? Does he tie you down, does he strike you, does he cut and bruise you?”

And this is the Blacks’ story, one they could never begin to suspect might be fiction: that you are a martyr, that Aegon is a monster. In place of an answer, you give Baela the treasures you have brought her. You pass them through the gaps between the bars: a bottle of ink, parchment, a quill with a point like a blade.

Baela takes these objects, amazed. “You can help me send a letter back to Harrenhal?”

“I don’t know if I will be able to get to the rookery. But I’ll try.”

“The Usurper allows you this much free rein?”

He trusts me. He loves me. He’s bedbound and in agony. “He’s rather distracted at the moment.”

“He’s dying, hopefully,” Baela says. She has already begun to write. And there’s a reptilian sort of coldness that is snaking deeper into you, constricting around your bones, gliding through the blood-slick chambers of your heart, too much a part of you to ever rip out. But now Baela’s face softens. She looks up dolefully. “Moondancer, she’s…she’s gone, isn’t she?”

You bow your head as if this is something tragic. “She did not survive Sunfyre’s attack.”

“Fucking beasts,” she seethes, resuming her writing. “When my father learns of this, he and Caraxes will come to rescue us. And he will burn the Usurper alive.” She finishes her letter, rolls up the parchment, and hands it back to you.

“How will Daemon know that you authored this and under no duress?”

“My signature,” Baela says, grinning. “I end all of my correspondence to him with Your ever-obedient daughter. It is a joke between us. If it was absent, he would notice. His suspicions would be aroused. That is how I would signal if I was ever forced to write to him against my will.”

There is dark satisfaction like a spell shimmering in your arteries, nerves, the void-black pupils of your eyes. You return her smile. “Perfect.”

“Don’t fear,” Baela tells you, and reaches through the rusted iron bars to clasp your hand. You fight the reflex to tear away from her, this woman who certainly maimed Aegon and might have killed him. You find yourself studying her, measuring her height and weight, calculating how much milk of the poppy it would take to end her life. “Cregan Stark is south of the Neck now. He will move heaven and earth to possess you, everyone knows that. Soon we will have Northmen marching through the Riverlands with Caraxes and Sheepstealer safeguarding them from above. And after the Riverlands they will be in the Reach, and then finally King’s Landing to stabilize the capital. The Usurper and Sunfyre cannot fight. Daeron is scarcely more than a boy. The Betrayers are avaricious, overconfident drunks. The Greens will be vanquished before winter.”

“And what about Vhagar?”

“Together, Caraxes and Sheepstealer can bring her down.” But there is doubt in Baela’s voice, yes, a vacillation that is rarely heard from her.

“I hope so,” you reply, one of countless lies.

You take Baela’s letter to the rookery, open it, examine it carefully for the subtleties of her handwriting: slopes and dots and lines. Then you get a fresh piece of parchment and painstakingly draft a very different message. Not a plea for help, but an assurance that all is well; not a summons to Dragonstone, but a confirmation that the castle was found to be unoccupied and is now held firmly by Baela and Moondancer.

And you end the letter before tying it to a leg of the raven trained to fly to Harrenhal:

Your ever-obedient daughter, Baela Targaryen

~~~~~~~~~~

“Please eat something, Your Grace. I beg you.” Lord Larys Strong’s face is creased with servile, attentive worry. On the plate before you is fresh, warm bread and a dish of salted butter. In your bowl is a crab soup thick with vegetables, the broth tomato-based and red like Autumn’s hair, like blood.

“I can’t.”

“Would you like me to bring you something else? I could have the chefs prepare roast chicken, or duck, or boar…”

“No.” You push the bowl of soup away. You and Larys are alone in the Great Hall, seated at the high table which presides over a silent, vacuous chamber. The room was built to resemble a dragon lying on its belly; the entranceway is its mouth, two massive doors edged with stone teeth. There are dragons everywhere, these talismans of Aegon’s house, these creatures that are monsters to some and saviors to others.

Larys studies you closely. His voice is tender. “Your Grace, please. Can I do anything for you?”

You consider him, an enigma that is useful and subtle and dogged in his loyalty. “What is it that binds you so faithfully to Alicent and her children, Lord Larys? House Strong was so favored by Rhaenyra. Her heirs were your blood, no matter how much she tried to deny it. You could have risen high in the Black Council. Make no mistake, I am very thankful for your service to the Greens. I am glad to count you among the greatest of our fortunes. But what inspired you to turn your coat?”

Larys smiles at you. He has eyes like rain, the wavy abundant brown hair of his spurned family. His hands rest on the handle of his cane. “Your eldest brother is an acclaimed swordsman.”

“Yes,” you agree, caught off-guard.

“And so was mine,” Larys says. “House Strong, is it any wonder what we valued most? My father loved Harwin. He was so fiercely proud of him. He was interested in him, he understood him. They would whisper to each other all through feasts, all through tourneys, conspiring, chortling, enmeshed in this synergy that left no air for anyone else to breathe.”

“And your father never understood you.” Just like Bartimos Celtigar overlooks Everett, a son gifted with books and quills instead of horses and swords. “Never even tried to.”

“It is a terrible thing to be in the midst of your family and yet feel alone.”

“It is,” you say, remembering the Blacks’ festivities in King’s Landing.

“Now Lyonel and Harwin Strong whisper to no one,” Larys says, his smile widening into a dark, victorious grin. “And I am the Master of Whisperers.”

You remember the words that Otto Hightower spoke to you as he waited for his execution in the dungeons of the Red Keep: These dark, contagious facets of life change us all. They ruins us. Time, heartache, violence. You become capable of inconceivable things. You would scheme and deceive. You would murder. “Do you ever regret it?” you ask Larys softly. Becoming a sinner, a killer, a kinslayer.

“Never,” he replies. “Dowager Queen Alicent was the first person to ever truly listen to me. To make me feel worth something. Worth anything. To advance her interests in every way possible…that cannot be an injustice. It is the cleanest kind of loyalty. And I have no doubt my sacrifices will be repaid. If the Greens triumph, that is. When this war is over, Alicent’s son must sit the Iron Throne.”

“You mean Aegon.”

“Yes, of course.” But something mournful passes over Larys’ face like a shadow; he peers down at his hands to hide this from you.

He doubts Aegon will live. He foresees Aemond or Daeron inheriting the throne instead. You stand from the table, your chair squealing shrilly against the stone floor. “We should bring the king his supper,” you tell Larys. “He needs his strength.”

Aegon does not like you to be there when the maesters prod at him, scrub his wounds, rebandage his shattered legs. You were once his healer, yes, but now he believes you to be his wife. He does not want to be your patient. He does not want you to see him as a wounded man writhing in bed, as someone helpless, pathetic, weak, doomed.

The maesters are just finishing when you arrive with a tray of buttered bread and fresh soup, steam rising from the bowl of red like entrails that litter the earth once a battle has ended. The maesters are gathering up bloody strips of linen to be burned. Aegon is sobbing; his silver hair hangs in chaotic waves, both hands cover his face.

Your voice is hushed and heartbroken. “Aegon…”

“No, I’m okay,” he says, sniffling, mopping the tears from his cheeks with his bare palms. Then he reaches out to you. “Come here, come here, come here.”

You go to him, sliding the tray onto his bedside table until it clinks against the glass bottles there: rose oil, red wine, milk of the poppy. You climb onto the bed and Aegon’s arms circle around your waist, pulling you in closer as he buries his face in the warmth of your chest, your throat, covering you in hurried, imprecise kisses. Dimly, you wonder what he tastes when he breathes you in; you wonder what colors bloom in the sunless passages of his lungs.

“I missed you,” he murmurs. You can feel the dampness of his tears on your bare skin, the roughness of his scars.

“I was only gone for a few hours.”

“Too long,” he says. “Far too long. How’s Sunfyre?”

“He’s down on the beach, Your Grace,” Larys answers from the doorway where he has materialized like stars at dusk.

“Is he eating? Ambulatory? Wading in the water?”

“He’s…” Lord Larys hesitates. “He seems to be in a great deal of discomfort.” And yes, you know this to be true: Sunfyre the Golden’s wings hang in shreds, his wounds are inflamed with infection, and there is something wrong with him inside as well, a wheezing when he inhales, blood that seeps from his nostrils and his jaws. There’s nothing anybody can do for him. No one can touch him but Aegon, and Aegon can’t leave his bed.

Aegon says to Larys, low and sinister: “I want Baela dead. I want her burned.”

“She is far more valuable to you alive, Your Grace.”

“I am the king and I wish her to die.”

“Corlys Velaryon is her grandsire,” Larys implores. “If he discovers you executed Baela, he may recommit himself to Rhaenyra’s side. He may launch his own rebellion even after Rhaenyra is defeated. If you wish to win and keep the Iron Throne, I advise you to spare her.”

Aegon sighs and glares out the window that overlooks the Narrow Sea, his arms still linked around your waist. You begin to weave his braid for him. “Aegon,” you say gently. “We’ve brought you supper. Please eat it.”

“I’m afraid I’m too nauseated by my own inadequacy. Perhaps later.”

“You want to be well again. And you will be. But you have to eat.”

“I really don’t think I can.”

“Aegon, please.”

“Well…” He glances over at the bowl of soup and then gives you a mischievous smirk. “I suppose nothing tastes better than a crab, does it? Particularly when it is served in bed.”

“Or on the floor of a library.” You smile and kiss him: his pale face, his trembling lips. You finish his tiny braid like a silver chain and tuck it behind his ear. Then you pour him a cup of milk of the poppy, just one pearl-white splash, just enough to sand the serrated edges off his anguish.

“No.” He stops you, a hand on your wrist. “I don’t want to be useless again. I don’t want to be swimming in dreams. I want to be here with you.”

You shake your head. There are tears stinging in your eyes. “But you’re in pain.”

He grins, brushing your hair back from your face. “I’ve been in pain my whole life, Angel.”

And he manages to force down half the soup and two brimming goblets of wine before he sinks beneath the sea of his consciousness, while outside waves crack open against the rocks and Sunfyre leaks viscous threads the color of crimson, roses, flames.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You sent that raven a week ago,” Baela tells you when you bring her your offering, your clandestine kindness: apple cake, black tea. “More than enough time has passed for it to be received at Harrenhal and acted upon.”

You fill a porcelain cup with tea from the kettle and give it to her through the iron bars of her cell. “Perhaps the raven went astray.”

Baela ponders this as she alternates between unladylike chomps on a wedge of apple cake and slurps from the cup. “Maybe my father has been away from the castle. Maybe he’s out on the battlefield with the Stark men.”

Or maybe he believes you and Moondancer to be perfectly well and presiding unopposed over Dragonstone, and therefore not in need of his attention. What a welcome delusion to live under. I’m sure he’d rather be fucking Nettles anyway. You take the empty cup when Baela has drained it and refill it with tea. Baela accepts the nearly overflowing cup gratefully. She has had nothing to drink since she was taken captive except muddy rainwater that pools in one corner of each cell, guided by stone gutters that run along the outside of the castle. The tea is cloudy with cream and laced with sugar; still, her nose wrinkles a bit when she swallows it down.

“Bitter,” she notes distractedly.

“It’s made from leaves grown here on Dragonstone. Formidable, but not very sweet.”

Baela cackles; it echoes through the dungeon. This is the same voice that commanded Moondancer to brutalize Sunfyre, to send Aegon plummeting to the sand. Are her eyes already losing their viperish sharpness, is her heartbeat slowing? “Just like me!” She finishes her cup of tea and eagerly holds it out to you through the bars. You pour it full of the earth-colored brew once again.

You ask her as she licks apple cake crumbs from her fingers: “Why is Cregan Stark so determined to wed me?”

“He wants you. He considers you worthy of him.”

“But he doesn’t understand me. He doesn’t really know who I am.”

Baela shrugs indifferently. “None of us love anyone because of who they are. We love them because of who they make us believe we are.” She sips her tea and blinks groggily. “In any case, he will be your honorable savior, and you will be his illustrious damsel, and when the traitor dragons are dead he will spirit you away to Winterfell to bear his wolf pups. It’s not so bad a fate, I think. Not for someone like you. You aren’t ill-suited to matrimony. You are docile enough. A caretaker, a healer. You seem like the sort of woman who would be content with just one man.”

Yes. If he was Aegon. As you watch her kneeling on the stone floor of her cell, Baela sways and almost nods off, seemingly unaware that she is doing it.

“Burning might be too swift a death for the Usurper,” Baela says, smiling dazedly. “Cregan should have some of the Boltons flay him. They can all take turns wearing his hideous scars.”

“Yes. Skins shed, skins regrown, some of us change them over and over again.”

Baela stares at you inanely. She is beyond comprehension. Then she collapses to the stone floor, the porcelain tea cup spilling from her grasp and breaking into jagged white shards.

You take the key to the cell off the hook out in the corridor and unlock the door of iron bars. You step inside, still holding the tea kettle in one hand. You set the kettle down and drag Baela until she is propped upright against a wall. Her pulse is slow, but still present; she moans feebly as you position her. But it is all for a good cause; you must ensure she drinks the rest of the tea, the witches’ brew of leaves and cream and sugar and a fatal dose of milk of the poppy. Outside you hear a deep, prehistoric rumble as Vhagar flies over Dragonstone and scouts for a landing spot large enough to host her. Aemond is back again.

You angle the spout of the tea kettle between Baela’s paling lips and ply her with a small amount, less than a mouthful, then you rub her throat in just the right place to trigger her reflex to swallow. You know this trick well; you have used it on grievously wounded soldiers. You used it on Aegon after he was burned. You repeat the steps until the kettle is empty. Then you lay Baela flat again and watch her chest rise and fall slower, slower, slower until it stops. But still, you leave nothing to chance. You nick Baela’s wrist with a paring knife from the castle kitchens, until now tucked away in a pocket of your gown, emerald green silk to match the side of this war that you are pledged to. Her blood, unpropelled by the rhythm of a heart, dribbles sluggishly rather than spurts. She’s gone; she’s with her mother and Luke and Jace and the young sickly Viserys and Rhaenys, Otto and Helaena and Jaehaerys and Maelor and Autumn’s silver-haired son that she never had the chance to name. You wonder if the struggle goes on in the afterlife. Perhaps presently Otto and Baela are scratching and yowling at each other in a castle made of clouds.

Upstairs, Aemond is already in Aegon’s bedchamber. They are speaking in whispers when you enter, and you catch only pieces of the exchange: capital, Cregan, marriage, Daemon, crown. Larys stands in the corner of the room, his hands laced atop the handle of his cane. He gives you a reverent bow in greeting. He might not be so pleased to see you once he learns what you’ve done.

Aegon stops talking abruptly when he spots you and gestures for Aemond to go quiet as well, a commanding sweep of his hand. Aemond follows his brother’s gaze to the doorway. His lone blue eye climbs up and down you like a man on the rungs of a ladder. His hair is in one thick braid from his flight; stray white-blond strands that have been ripped free hang in disarray around his stoic, unreadable face. Aemond does not bow to you and never will. He only leers, a silver-haired wolf, a hawk with unhollow bones.

“Hello, Angel,” Aegon says, beaming or at least attempting to. He is frail and pallid and too thin and dripping sweat. There are indigo rings around his eyes like bruises. His legs are swollen, grotesque mountain ranges beneath the blankets. You rush to him and sit on the edge of the bed, feeling his forehead for fever and combing your fingers fondly through his hair.

Aemond sighs irritably. “Anyway, I’d like to torture her.”

“My prince…” Larys urges.

Aegon holds up a palm. “Now now, Lord Larys, let’s hear his proposal. Exactly how much do you intend to torture Baela?”

“Quite a bit,” Aemond says.

“To death?” Aegon asks hopefully.

“I don’t see why not.”

“My prince!” Larys says again. “Please, consider the possible ramifications, she is a prisoner of substantial strategic value, if your mother was here she would caution—”

“I’m afraid that Baela can no longer be interrogated,” you confess, and they all turn to you. There is a long, laden pause.

“And why is that?” Aemond says.

“Because she is dead of poisoning.”

“What?!”

“In her cell. Her body is there now. Feed her to Vhagar or Sunfyre, throw her in the sea, do whatever you wish with her. But she has paid her debt for the harm she inflicted upon us.”

Slowly, a grin splits across Aemond’s face. Larys shakes off his shock and resigns himself to it. But Aegon is neither proud nor reconciled. “You did that?” he says softly.

“You wanted Baela dead.”

“Yes, I did. But you don’t take life,” Aegon says, remembering what you once told him in King’s Landing. His oceanic eyes are stunned and fearful; not because Baela is was murdered, but because you were the one to end her. Because until now he was still able to tell himself that you could somehow escape this war unscarred, unruined. “You preserve it.”

“I preserve yours,” you reply. And when you offer him milk of the poppy—with no fear, for you know precisely how much it takes to kill a man—Aegon refuses it again, taking his suffering pure and sharp like the glass of a mirror.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What will happen to him?” Aemond asks you. You’re sitting on the stone staircase together under overcast midday skies, sipping wine and watching Sunfyre amble lethargically up and down the beach. You aren’t sure what’s made him so restless: his own dire injuries, Aegon in torment within the castle walls, something else entirely, some premonition that only beasts of ancient magic know. At last, Sunfyre seems to have exhausted himself and crumples onto the sand.

“I think Aegon will walk again. Eventually.”

“But he won’t be able to fight.”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Fuck,” Aemond hisses caustically, glowering out over the ocean.

You look at Aemond, needing to ask but terrified of the answer. “Can you win without him?”

“Can we win, you mean?” He smiles faintly, then sobers again. “I think so. Just before I left the Riverlands to come here, I received reports that Daemon had sent his lowborn little child bride away with Sheepstealer. He is trying to protect her from Rhaenyra’s assassins. My bitch of a half-sister has thus done us a remarkable favor. If Daemon is alone, I have no doubt that Vhagar can slay Caraxes. They say Daemon has fled Harrenhal. He’s hiding from me. I will find him, and I will burn him. I will end this war.”

“You need to be with Criston when his army faces the Northmen.”

“Of course,” Aemond says; but something in his face worries you.

There is a high-pitched shriek overhead, a glimmering flash of vivid gemstone blue. You startle and Aemond’s hand juts out, grabs you by the forearm, yanks you closer to him; then he relaxes when he recognizes who it is.

Aemond sighs loudly. “Why the fuck can’t he stay where he’s supposed to be?!” Then he stands, helps you to your feet while he’s at it, and heads down to the shoreline to meet Daeron and Tessarion.

The Blue Queen circles the beach several times, Daeron peering down as if struggling to understand something, his long white-blond hair whipping in the wind. At last Tessarion lands, her claws sinking into the wet sand, ocean froth bubbling around legs. Her long, swanlike neck stretches out towards Sunfyre, soft inquisitive squeals emanating from her jaws. Daeron leaps down from the saddle and strides to where Sunfyre is sprawled helplessly on the beach.

Alicent’s youngest child is clad in mint green—including a cape that billows out behind him in the seaside breeze—and glinting gold accents everywhere, buckles on his boots and the clasp of his cape and even a freckling of studs in his ears. He props both hands on his waist as he scrutinizes the crippled dragon. “Well, you’re not Moondancer.”

“He ripped Moondancer’s throat out,” Aemond says. “And then he ate her.”

Daeron whistles and gazes at Sunfyre admiringly. “I heard that Baela and Moondancer had taken possession of Dragonstone. I came to murder them. But now I see my services are unnecessary.”

“Baela is dead.” Then Aemond adds, nodding to you: “Here is the executioner.”

Daeron considers you, then laughs and assails you with a spirited embrace that nearly knocks you off your feet. “Welcome to the family, Lady Celtigar.”

“She’s the queen now.”

“Is she?” Daeron asks, eyebrows raised. “I was not under the impression that our brother was in any particular hurry to marry again.”

“His priorities seem to have shifted,” Aemond says.

“Can I see him?” Daeron looks around the beach and then up at the castle, shielding his eyes from the greyscale daylight. “Is he not outside with you? What is he doing in there? Not reciting prayers and composing poetry, I’d imagine.”

In Aegon’s bedchamber, Daeron cannot conceal his shock, his dismay; he gawks at the king like he is a three-legged dog, a blinded orphan. He stands thunderstruck at the end of the bed, taking in the vague yet horrifying outlines of Aegon’s shattered legs, the gauntness of his face, the fact that he is incapable of playing any meaningful role in the war for the foreseeable future. You sit on the bed beside Aegon, Aemond lurks by a window, Larys observes intently from a respectful distance, his eyes following every word as they flit through the air.

When Daeron recovers somewhat, he says: “I need to know what to do about Hammer and Ulf.”

“Why?” Aegon replies wearily. “What’s wrong with them?”

“Apparently, Mother once offered them the seats of House Costayne and House Merryweather as compensation for their efforts on behalf of the Greens, and they accepted. But now that’s suddenly not good enough. They’re asking me for the Riverlands and the Vale.”

Aegon turns to Aemond. “Is there anything left of the Riverlands these days? Should we find a new name for them? The Smolderlands, perhaps? The Everything-Is-Dead-Here-Now-Lands?”

“This is serious,” Aemond says flatly.

“I’m entirely serious.”

“Should I just tell them they can have whatever they want?” Daeron asks. “And then when the war is over and we’ve won…you know…pretend not to remember that conversation?”

“They can’t be given territory of any importance,” Aemond says. “They aren’t nobility.”

Daeron amends: “More relevantly, they are devoid of accountability and self-discipline. They drink all day and whore all night, and…oh, I mean no offense, Your Grace.”

“Fine,” Aegon says, preoccupied. There are fat beads of sweat on his bloodless face, glistening misery in his eyes. He gazes sorrowfully down at his left hand where he once wore his golden dragon ring before he lost it the same day he destroyed his legs. You pour him a cup of red wine and he drains it in seconds. You fill another.

“My point is that Hammer and Ulf are increasingly unreliable. I am only halfway convinced they could even show up for a battle before it was over. And yet we need them. Especially if Sunfyre cannot fight.”

“Agree to their requests,” Aemond says. “And if they survive the war, we will deal with them then. Rhaenyra’s faction is the greater enemy. We cannot risk the Dragonseeds racing back into her arms.”

“Lord Larys?” Aegon prompts dimly

“I could not agree more, Your Grace.”

“And on the subject of Rhaenyra,” Daeron continues. “Tessarion and I can take King’s Landing. Syrax is the only dragon in the city now, and Rhaenyra has never ridden her into combat.”

“No,” Aegon says. “We cannot risk setting the capital ablaze and turning the people against us. And Mother is there. Everett is there.”

“Everett?” Daeron looks around, baffled. “Who the fuck is Everett?”

“Angel’s brother. Not the firstborn son. The other one.” And as Aegon explains this, his chest is heaving and his eyes are glazed over. He tries to reposition himself in bed and has to bite down on his lower lip to keep from crying out, hard enough to draw blood.

“Is there anything else?” you ask Daeron and Aemond, a warning in your face. He needs rest. He needs to sleep, to heal.

“No,” Aemond says. He paces towards the door and snatches Daeron’s cape as he passes by him, hauling him out into the hallway. You follow after them.

As soon as he is out of earshot of Aegon’s room, Daeron tells Aemond: “He doesn’t look good.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Aemond, I think you should prepare to—”

“He’ll be fine!” Aemond snaps.

“You don’t think I’m losing something too?” Daeron demands furiously. “You don’t think I want him to be well again? Of course I want that. But if wishing people to live made it possible, the world would be a very different place.”

“You are needed in the Reach,” Aemond says, and that’s all.

Daeron glares up at him, incredulous, defiant. “This will be over soon. I hope you’re ready for what comes next.”

Then he storms out of the castle, soars down the long stone staircase, meets Tessarion on the windswept beach and takes flight into the southwest where the earth is green but the nights are an inescapable, dreamless black.

~~~~~~~~~~

Aegon is weeping again; you hear him from the hallway. It is after nightfall, and the castle is illuminated only by firelight. Candles flicker; the hearth crackles and pops. In the shadows, Aegon lies with his dragonfire scars and his fractured legs and his useless hereditary magic, tears streaming down his face. You have a vision of what he will look like when he’s dead; you imagine the Stranger reaching up from underneath the bed to seize him with claws like a raven’s talons and drag him out of existence.

“I need it,” Aegon sobs when he sees you, grasping for the glass bottle of milk of the poppy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to need it, but I do.”

“I’m here, Aegon. It’s alright. Let me help.” You pour him a cup of the bitter remedy, a strange gleaming white like pearl, opal, moonstone. Then you tilt the cup against his lips. Aegon gulps down the milk of the poppy and then falls back into his sea of pillows.

He murmurs, eyes closed as you graze the backs of your fingers feather-lightly over his unmarred cheek: “I wanted to start over with you.”

“You’ll still get the chance.”

“No,” he whimpers miserably. “I ruin everyone. Everyone I’m given, everyone I touch. Helaena, Jaehaerys, Maelor. We don’t even know where Jaehaera is, in Storm’s End, lost on the road, taken captive, dead. Otto, Autumn, Aemond, Mother, Sunfyre. And now I’m ruining you too.”

“You’re not,” you plead with him in a whisper. And not for the first time, you think: What do you require from me, Aegon? Wrath, compassion, healing, children? What can I do to give you hope again? Tell me and it’s yours. I’d do anything. I’d become anyone. “Aegon?” you begin, trying to ask him; but he is already unconscious. He’ll likely be out until sunrise.

You drink cup after cup of red wine and sit in the flame-lit shadows with him, in the quiet, in the liminal space between decisions, envisioned sins and prospective virtues. Then you leave the bedchamber like a ghost, a creak here and a tap there and no other trace. You wander down long, twisting corridors framed by dragons of iron and stone. And at the other end of the castle beyond a door you’ve never opened before is the lair of a very different breed of dragon: tall and lean and ambitious, his eyepatch removed and stowed away for the evening, his long silver hair hanging freely to his waist.

He is wearing cotton sleeping trousers but nothing else. He is seated at his writing desk and scrawling something onto parchment in black ink, a list or a diagram or a design for a new crown upon his ascension to the throne, you don’t know and you have no intention of asking. You have far too many things on your mind already. You feel nauseous and unsteady, you feel like you can’t possibly go through with this. You can’t imagine it. You can’t fathom what he would feel like, taste like.

Aemond steals a nonchalant glimpse of you, having no sense of your inner turmoil. “Can I assist you with something?”

“Yes,” you say simply, sipping your wine under the stone arch of the doorway.

He looks up at you again, his quill suddenly still in his hand. His two eyes are on you, one wide and river-blue, the other a soulless glittering sapphire in a tangle of ruined flesh. And now he understands. There are other Targaryens, he had said. “Take off your clothes. Sit down on the bed.”

You step inside his bedchamber and close the door behind you, setting your empty cup on the edge of his writing desk. You walk to his bed—dark green blankets, gold thread—and shed each piece of clothing you have on, a black gown and everything under it, not looking to see if Aemond is watching you, too anxious, trembling wildly. But you know his gaze is on you when you—standing naked and shivering in the firelight—begin to pull back the blankets and hear the sharp reprove in his voice.

“I did not tell you to hide yourself from me,” Aemond says. “Sit at the edge. Yes, there. Good.”

You perch on the bed and wait for him, your ankles linked, legs swinging restlessly, arms crossed over your chest. Aemond is staring at you from the opposite end of the room. You can’t look at him; you look elsewhere, at the tapestries of dragons hanging from the drafty stone walls, at the thick candles that drip white wax. And this won’t be like lying with a stranger, but it won’t be like lying with someone you want either, because you are profoundly uneasy and monstrously ashamed and perhaps even afraid.

Aemond is approaching now, firelight skating over his smooth, unsinged skin. He is undoing the tie at the waist of his trousers. He yanks them off, revealing himself to you. He is already hard, and he is massive, vast in length and width. The panic hits you like a breaking wave.

“Oh,” you gasp in alarm, unable to stop yourself. Then you explain so he won’t be offended: “I’m not going to be able to take you if I’m not ready.” You rest a hand on your bare thigh, slip it between your legs, begin to stroke yourself the way Aegon does, trying to relax, trying to think of him…

“No,” Aemond says, moving your hand aside. “Let me.”

Obediently, you rest your palms just behind you on the mattress, open your thighs for him, inhale sharpy as Aemond’s long, artful fingers touch you somewhere only one other man ever has. And you’re a traitor, the worst kind of traitor, because it’s working: you can feel yourself opening for him, hungering for him, coating his hand in slick warm wetness.

Aemond isn’t looking at your face. His eye is fixed on the place where his fingers are circling, where he is now pushing two inside of you, and while it happens abruptly and roughly enough to startle you it is not quite painful, or maybe it is, just the tiniest bit, but the pleasure eclipses the pain, the pleasure is a current you are powerless to swim against.

“You can tell me to stop,” Aemond says as he strokes you from the inside with his fingers buried to the knuckles, his breathing labored. “I don’t want you to. But if you tell me to stop, I’ll listen. Okay?”

You nod, and instead of an answer you give him a moan, stifled but unmistakable, dark treasonous forbidden ecstasy. And this snaps something in Aemond, it unleashes a part of him he’d been keeping tied up like an untrustworthy animal, one that could maul or maim or kill. He drops to his knees, hooks his arms beneath your thighs, drags you to him until his lips and tongue are on you with dizzyingly blissful pressure. You fall back onto the bed, one hand twisting into the blankets, the other in his waterfall of unruly silver hair, pushing him even harder against you as he licks ravenously. Aemond doesn’t seem to mind; with each roll of your hips and bitten-back plea his enthusiasm blooms, hums and triumphant chuckles spilling from his mouth as he swallows down the proof of your desire. It’s starting, that swift climb towards a high like nothing else on earth, something Aegon once taught you was possible. You are a betrayer, but with the very best of intentions; you are making a sacrifice, but it feels so much like a gift.

“Aemond, I’m ready,” you pant, your fingers hopelessly knotted in his hair. “You can do it now, you can…” And then you lose your words because instead of rising to his feet, Aemond stays right where he is, his tongue insatiable, his face drenched in your wetness.

He’s going to make me…I’m so close…

“Aemond, what are you waiting for…?”

His lips close around the spot where you are most sensitive and he sucks forcefully, and that feeling like a shuddering, irresistible unravelling strikes you harder and faster than it ever has before, so intense it is almost painful, sharp and commanding, not something he is doing with you but to you, and you know even in the golden haze of the climax that this is not about love but about power, pride, control, worthiness.

He doesn’t stop. He is licking you again, opening your folds with one hand, thrusting two fingers inside of you with the other. You are still feeling the pulsing, involuntary aftershocks of one high when the next begins building, building, building, and when you close your eyes all you can see are waves on the ocean in a storm, swelling to impossible heights and ungoverned by anything except the dubious mercy of nature.

“Aemond please,” you beg in a frayed whisper, bathed in sweat and guilt and frenzied lust. “I’m ready. Just do it, please…”

And then he wrenches you into another vortex and it takes everything in you not to scream, not to jolt awake the skeleton crew that tends to Dragonstone and its surreptitious guests. You are beyond complete thoughts, beyond sentences. You are boneless, your muscles have turned to mist and air, you are entirely under Aemond’s control and that’s where he has wanted you all along.

“Aemond, please, please, please…”

Unable to resist any longer, he stands—wiping the glistening, dripping sheen from his face with the back of one hand—and forces his cock inside you to the hilt. He does not slow down when he meets resistance, and you don’t tell him to. You moan in shock at the disorienting fullness, you cannot help it; it is a feeling on the knife’s edge between ripping agony and euphoric pleasure. It is something you would gratefully die of. He moves within you, deep and quick, his hands clasping your hips. Emotionally, you feel nothing but a razored, perilous, impersonal intensity; in your body, it is paradise.

Again? Again…?!

“Are you going to come for me one more time, Angel?” Aemond taunts you as he thrusts; and that’s Aegon’s name for you that he’s using, and it’s wrong, and Aemond knows that, and there is absolutely nothing you can do to break the spell he’s got you under, you can’t tell him to stop, you don’t have the will to, and if this is about power then you know who’s won out of the three of you, you know who has steel in his bones and lightning cracking in his veins.

It’s different this time, pleasure rising like the tide in your whole body, a peak that is not concentrated so clearly between your legs but everywhere: fingertips, spine, belly, heart.

“Come for me, Angel. I know you can do it.” And then for the first time Aemond leans in close to you, his pristine scarless chest pressed to yours, his lips traveling from your throat to the curve of your jaw, his tongue darting into your mouth before you can turn away, and he tastes like pure, mineral lust, and maybe that’s not just because of what he’s done to you, maybe that’s all he is all the way down, hunger that is never satisfied, a need to consume like fire burns flesh.

You whimper, a desperate vulnerable sound, a pleading for him to finish what he’s started and give you this one last high, just one more, just one, please, please, you’ll do anything.

“I’m better than him, aren’t I?” Aemond demands as he fucks you, and there’s no other word for it. This isn’t making love, this isn’t a meeting of souls, it is using someone else’s body to patch up all your hollows, all the pinprick voids you’ve been walking around with for years, losing yourself one blooddrop at a time until you pass by a mirror one day and think who the hell is that? “I know how to take care of you. I know what you want. I can do things Aegon never could. I’ll make you come again. I’ll give you a prince.”

And he coaxes it out of you like the memory of a dream, more like an ether than something you could name: a shimmering elation all over, a cry you can only muffle by biting down on Aemond’s neck as he pounds into you, and then he at last he surrenders what you came here for, but only after all the rest of it. He fills you with himself, so much of it that you can feel it pouring out onto the blankets, immense flooding wet warmth that gives you no satisfaction whatsoever.

I’m a traitor, you think, and for all the times you’ve changed your skin this is the very worst of them. I shouldn’t have done this. I wish I hadn’t done this.

Aemond lifts himself off of you and rolls onto his back, panting alongside you as you both stare up at the ceiling, drenched in each other’s salt and knowing things that were once so unthinkable. Aemond is gazing over at you. His clear blue eye is tracing your lips, your breasts, your hips, your folds that are soaked with his sweat and seed. You don’t want him watching you. You feel sick knowing he’s watching you. You get up from the bed and begin putting on your gown.

Aemond says: “We should probably try again tomorrow.”

You shake your head. “I can’t,” you reply quietly.

He sits up on the bed, his lone eye narrowed and suspicious. His hair is damp and now flows over his shoulders in disheveled silvery waves. “What?”

“I can’t do this again. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“So that’s it,” Aemond flings. “Just this once and never again. Never again in our whole goddamn lives.”

“It feels like betraying him. It is betraying him.”

“And what if he can’t father any more children?!”

“Then I’ll be barren.”

Aemond glares, petulant, affronted. “I thought you wanted to help this family.”

“You didn’t do this for your family. You did it for you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m a fucking monster.” He tears off the bed, tugs on his trousers, ties the knot with swift furious hands.

“Aemond, I didn’t say that, I don’t think—”

“You’ve done enough,” he seethes, pawing through a chest of clothing. He finds a shirt and pulls it on, gathers up his things, rages to the bedchamber door. He whips it open and disappears into the nightscape corridor.

“Aemond!” you call after him in a fierce whisper, as loudly as you dare to. “Aemond, where are you going?!”

“To take Harrenhal,” he pitches over his shoulder. And then he’s gone, and maybe it’s your fault, and maybe it isn’t, but either way you are wholly convinced that it is.

You bathe in one of the massive tubs heated by the lava that runs deep beneath the rocky earth of the island, scouring away every trace of Aemond, lathering yourself with soap scented with pine, rinsing, lathering again. Still, you can feel the way he moved inside you with such battering, rapturous force. Still, you miss him, you miss being able to talk to him and look to him and trust that he will protect Aegon in every way he can, for no matter how much envy Aemond is built of you believe his love for his king is stronger.

You return to Aegon’s bed, always so careful now not to jostle his legs, his shattered bones that are only just beginning to mend. You are petrified that he will know somehow—that he will see it on your face, smell it sweating from your pores—but Aegon has nothing for you but seeking hands and contented, drowsy sighs.

“Where’d you go?” he mumbles, still half-asleep, drawing you in closer. “I missed you. I keep dreaming that everyone’s gone. I watch you walk through the doorway and I’m left here in bed all alone.”

“Aegon?”

“Yes, wife.”

“Do you need children with me to be happy?”

He waits a long time before he answers. When at last he does, he chooses each word carefully. “I have never felt a calling to be a father. I’ve never been any good at it. Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, Maelor…they were mine, but they also weren’t, and I can’t explain it. I felt nothing for them except a vague sort of sympathy that they had the misfortune of being born to me. Now, did a lot of that have to do with my relationship with Helaena? Probably. And do I think things would be different if I had children with you? Yes, I believe they would be, to some extent at least. But I don’t need children to be happy. I just need you.”

You say with tears in your eyes and your voice splintering: “I’m so sorry, Aegon.”

He is mystified. “For what?”

“For not being a better person for you. For not being able to cure or protect you. For not being able to end the war.”

“Angel, nobody can,” Aegon says, fingers snarled in your hair, lips to your forehead. Then he smiles; you can feel the warm, playful curl of it against your skin. “Well, except Aemond, of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~

She is there to greet him when he arrives. She creeps out of the shadows like a spider, long limbs and volcanic-glass eyes, whispers like wind in brittle fall leaves and flesh that will never refuse him. She wears black, not for one night like you did but always; she has long dark hair that she never cuts or braids or ties back. Sometimes there are raven feathers in it, sometimes herbs or powders from spells, sometimes twigs and petals, sometimes blood. It all washes out in the cold cryptic currents of the Gods Eye. Once Daemon Targaryen was here, but he did not have a wound in the shape that she could fill, could walk into like a doorway and stitch herself into the velvet-gore lining of his lungs, his liver, his heart. But now Daemon is gone. And Harrenhal has a new king to reign over the city of bones and ashes.

She meets him under the starlight that trickles in through the ruins of Harrenhal, less a castle than an architectural graveyard, less a place of beginnings than of calamitous ends. Her fingernails trace his scar and she tells him it is the mark of a hero. She touches her lips to his sapphire eye and tells him it reminds her of a god. And thus the doorway opens, and Alys drifts through it, silent and resistless like smoke, like a plague.

Perpetual Resurrection, Aemond thinks. He knows they are the words of House Celtigar. He has studied the mottos of every noble house in Westeros; but none speak to him more than these.

She touches him and he sees everything he could be. He tastes her lips and drinks down the smooth intoxicating fire that burns the boy he once was away.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader

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builtbybrokenbells · 3 months

Text

CAPITAL VICES | JACOB T. KISZKA

Jacob Thomas Kiszka: the eighth, undiscovered, most deadly sin of all.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 19k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving) mentions of oral (m!receiving), sir kink, dom/sub, praise, dirty talk, biting, nipple play, degradation, very brief mention/phrase of free use kink, overstimulation, spanking, name calling, ANGST, mentions of breakups/heartbreak, depression, anxiety, sadness, graphic description of grief/grieving, loss of a parent, mentions of cheating/toxic relationships, past trauma with relationships, mentions of abusive relationships/physical violence, mentions of dying/death, mentions of addiction/withdrawal/drugs, fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!!

you guys didn’t really think I’d end it there, did you? ;) i did tell a little while lie and say wrath was the last chapter, but I didn’t technically say ‘the end’ 🤍 I apologize for leaving you hanging, and I hope this makes up for it! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!! (Very lightly edited)

Forget, move on, move forward.

That was the mantra you had been repeating to yourself for days. The sound was nearly sickening now, and the only reason you had not abandoned it was because it was stuck in your head. It was not helping, and it definitely was not working, but you were so deep in despair that you hoped it would eventually make the difference. You were desperate for any type of relief, for none of your usual coping mechanisms were working. The more the time passed, the more you were beginning to think that you would never recover from the loss of Jake Kiszka. You could not look at your piano, and you could not get out of bed for long enough to even think about readying yourself for the bar. All of your most comforting television shows had turned bleak, and the thought of playing music made you sick.

Well, all but one particular band, at least.

One sleepless night, you grew annoyed with your own relentless tossing and turning. After moving to the couch and turning your television on, you realized that not even the sound of Shameless, or more specifically, Frank Gallagher’s drunken babbling could pry a laugh from you. You switched to Brooklyn Nine-Nine, wondering if maybe a goofy comedy would settle the unbearable misery, but it only seemed to worsen your sadness. With one last shred of hope, you pulled out your phone that was lacking any messages like usual, and you opened your Spotify account.

You took a deep breath as you typed the three words into the search bar, and you felt like you were punched in the stomach when the picture of Jake and his three brothers graced your screen.

Of course, you would notice Jake first. He always came first.

You listened to Jake’s music for the first time that night, and instead of sharing the memory with him, you had to digest the intimacy you had previously denied yourself whilst trying to forget him. You promised that it would only be one time, and that if you only listened to one song, it would curb the need you held for him in your heart.

But, as you learned before in the hardest way imaginable, promising and following through are two completely different things, and it did not stop at a single song. By the time the sun rose in the sky, you were a mess of tears as you finished up the last few songs on their discography. Instead of turning your phone off and moving on, you put it on loop and leaned your head against the arm of the couch. One particular song caught your attention as it began playing, and it drew you in even further as the melodic guitar solo began. By minute three, your eyes were heavy, and not long after that, you were sound asleep.

When you woke in the morning from the best sleep you had in weeks, you were still hearing the soft sounds of Jake’s guitar. You swore you would turn it off and move on, but as you stretched and stood from your position on the couch, you let the melodies carry you through morning coffee and a long, overdue shower. Since then, it always seemed to be playing in the background while you tried to survive life without him.

A few days after the final breakup, Scott had sent you a message inviting you out for lunch. He was curious about how the night went after the blowout at the restaurant, and you couldn’t blame him. He sacrificed his own pride to help you find happiness, and the more you thought about it, the more appealing friendship with him seemed. You needed something to break up the monotony of sadness, and you knew that calling your sister was the last thing you wanted to do. You loved her, and she had always been your best friend, but you could not recount the mistakes you had made to lead you here. It would kill you to relive all of the sweetness and eventually, all of the heartbreak.

So you agreed, but it was all but happily. You made plans for a Saturday afternoon, exactly one week after you had called it quits with Jake. You thought that maybe by the time it rolled around, you would be more excited at the prospect of leaving the house considering you’d spent seven whole days inside, wallowing in your own misery. When you woke up that morning, it felt like lead was weighing down your limbs and you cursed yourself for ever making the plans in the first place. You forced yourself through a shower, but had to sit down on the side of the tub for ten minutes to regain your strength before getting dressed. You picked a hoodie that you’d stolen from your dads closet a long time ago, hoping that it would help you feel closer to him. You had been missing him more than you had in a very long time. You squeezed into a pair of jeans, debating whether to change into sweatpants, but eventually convinced yourself to wear them anyway.

You returned to the bathroom to dust on some makeup, hoping to cover the deep eye-bags and pale skin. About halfway through, you realized that there was not enough makeup in the world to cover up your heartbreak. You put on some lipgloss and sprayed some perfume, finishing just in time to hear the doorbell. With a sigh of defeat, you abandoned your reflection to greet Scott. You trudged to the front door, unlocking the knob and swinging it open to reveal his smiling face. He was much more relaxed than he was the weekend prior, and his clothes were not nearly as fancy. Relief flooded you when you realized that this was, in fact, just a friendly meal.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine.” He chuckled, first noticing your solemn face. You had given him a brief rundown of the situation the night before through a poorly written text so he knew what he was walking into, but you feared that it did not even come close to the way you were truly feeling. In truth, you had been texting quite often, and you weren’t sure that any of it made sense. Still, he was smiling, happily radiating positivity in hopes of making you feel better.

“Not much that’s good about it.” You grumbled, grabbing your purse from the hook by the door. You double checked for your phone and keys before nodding your head in the direction of his car. Your pessimism was staggering, but it did not seem to phase him.

“There’s lots of good,” he tried, stepping out of the way to allow you outside. “You get to see me. That’s good, is it not?” He raised an eyebrow, watching as you locked your door.

“You give yourself too much credit.” He chuckled at your grumpy expression, brushing off your insults like it was nothing.

“You look nice.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder as you both made your way to the car.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a small smile. You knew you should not be so harsh with him; he only wanted to help, and you should be grateful for that. When you missed Jake so badly, it made it hard to think of anything other than the sound of your broken heart. “You, too.”

“You have any idea where we should go?” He asked, opening your door for you. You climbed inside, trying to ignore the turn of your stomach at the thought of food. When he got in next to you, he was still waiting for a response.

“Do you remember that little cafe we used to go to in high school?” You asked, suddenly recalling the little spot that you spent so much time together in all those years ago.

“With the two dollar sandwiches?” He asked, laughing at the idea.

“Yeah, and the best grilled cheese in the whole world.” You added, making sure he remembered that fact. “It’s a little bit of a drive, but I haven’t been there in forever.”

“I’m down,” he said, putting the car in reverse and pulling out on the road “I’ve got all day.” He looked down at the radio, reaching out and grabbing a cord. He tossed the aux in your direction and turned the speakers up a notch. “I haven’t been to that diner in a long time, either. We used to go there every day.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “you, me, Seth and Katie Haynes.” You tried to hide the sneer in your voice when you spoke the names.

“Fuck, yes! I forgot about her.” He shook his head in disbelief at his own memory.

“I sure didn’t.” You leaned back in the seat, clicking on the seat warmer in hopes of soothing your aching body. Laying in bed nonstop finally seemed to be taking a toll on you. “Maybe I should have clued in that Seth wasn’t the one when I caught them fucking in my bedroom at my own house.”

“Not to say I told you so, but…” you rolled your eyes, reaching over and giving him a light smack on the arm.

“You know, that’s like rule number one of what not to say when you’re trying to cheer someone up.”

“Oh, I know.” He laughed. “That wasn’t to make you feel better; I just like being right.” It was crazy how fast the two of you seemed to rekindle the friendship that was once so strong. It made you regret losing contact with him, and you thought that if you had been friends with him the whole time, life might have seemed a little less lonely.

“Some things never change.” You sighed, looking out the window as he drove. For a little while, the two of you sat in silence. You admired the city and how it continued on as normal despite you feeling like the world was ending. It was a terrible thing to know that the sun would continue to rise and fall even while you felt like you were dying. You turned on your phone, finding yourself sick of the sad music floating through the stereo. You looked through playlist after playlist, but could not seem to find one that sounded appealing to you. When you grew sick of scrolling your phone in search of a song to play, you gave up and hit shuffle on your recently listened songs, and the first note that played was equal to a punch straight to the stomach.

“Oh, who’s this?” He asked, intrigued at the old-timey sound of the guitar.

“Uh, it’s called ‘Built By Nations’.” You muttered, trying to tune out the guitar and focus on Josh’s voice.

“Who’s it by?” He asked again, his original question being left unanswered.

“My ex and his brothers.” You confessed, You cheeks searing with heat.

“A musician in Nashville, y/n? Come on.” He implored you to think your decision out again.

“I know, I know.” You sighed. “Definitely wasn’t my smartest decision, but I’m suffering now, am I not?”

“Fair enough.” He laughed, taking the cutoff to the road that housed your old High School.

You were hit with a whirlwind of memories as he slowed down, likely feeling the same as you were in that moment. You strained to look out at the football field, and laughed to yourself as you saw the old sign that displayed the name. It was falling apart with some of the letters missing, but it was familiar, and it was comforting. You didn’t hate high school, but you did hate the life events that happened while attending. It seemed to sour the whole experience, but as you thought back on it, you knew it was not nearly as bad as you made it out to be.

“If you could go back for a day, would you?” He asked, looking over at you as the sight passed you by.

“I think so.” You nodded. “Would you?”

“Oh, for sure.” He chuckled, no doubt in his mind about it. With that, he turned down another side road, and within seconds, you were in front of the diner that was a staple of your childhood. He pulled into the half-full lot, and not long after that, the two of you were walking inside. Immediately, you were drawn to the corner booth in which you’d spent so many hours in. It was empty, just like it was meant for you two to sit there. You took to one side, and he slid in the other. You placed your phone in your purse and threw it down beside you, looking around the small area and reminiscing on the memories made in that very spot.

“Let me guess, bacon cheeseburger and not one, but two cokes to go with it. And one to go.” You grinned, looking over at his face as he laughed at your words.

“You know me so well, sunshine.” He admitted to it without argument; he got the same thing every day of senior year despite having a whole menu to choose from. “And you’ll get a grilled cheese with tomatoes on it, because you’re weird.”

“Tomatoes aren’t weird.” You scoffed. “You don’t think that ten months worth of ordering cheeseburgers is weird?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waved you off. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Eager much?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve waited a whole week to hear how it went, I think I’ve been plenty patient about it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, giving a shrug. “We fought in the parking lot, and on the drive home, and at my house. We said some mean things, stuff that we can never take back no matter how hard we try, then it went back to normal for a little while.” Normal was a strange description when it was referring to angry sex in your kitchen, but it fit the bill for you and Jake. Sex was the most normal thing about your relationship aside from the sadness, and occasionally, a wordless ‘I love you’. “It was nice, but I think that once the situation settled and I had a moment to think about everything, it just… it didn’t seem right.”

“What didn’t seem right?” He asked, hoping you would be more specific.

“All of it, you know? Like, we aren’t even dating and we’ve been hurting each other’s feelings and fighting. I can only imagine what it would be like if we were together.” He gave a small laugh, shaking his head slightly as you spoke. “What? What’s funny?”

“You, sunshine. You’ve always been so stubborn.” You opened your mouth to argue back, but he held up his hand as if to say he wasn’t finished. With a huff, you held back your words. “You guys are fighting because you’re feelings are hurt, whatever, it happens and it’s no big deal. Why are your feelings hurt, y/n?”

“Because he said the only thing I was good for was sex, and then he was all sweet and nice once we made up, but invited another girl on a date? How can you make up with someone and say that you care about them, then kiss another girl like it’s nothing?”

“Just the same as how you can take another guy on a date while you’re in love with him.” He shrugged, knowing he had you in a stalemate.

“I’m not in love with him!” Your voice was shrill, reacting as if the word was poison being forced down your throat. You were lying through your teeth, and even you knew how untruthful your words were.

“Oh, cut the shit, sunshine.” He rolled his eyes, pausing for a moment as the waitress approached you. He gave her a warm smile and ordered for both of you, and within minutes, she was on her way. “You’ve been moping around your house for a week because you broke up with your sort of boyfriend that you’re absolutely not in love with?” When he said it in such a way, you could clearly see how stupid you sounded. With a sigh of defeat, you gave in to the urge to speak the truth.

“Okay, fine, I love him.” Even as you said it, your whole body felt as if it was trying to reject the confession. You shuddered at the word and your palms broke out into a sweat. You ran them across the fabric of your jeans as you tried to calm yourself down. “I do, but I don’t want to, and it scares the shit out of me.”

“Why does it scare you?” He asked, taking a drink from one of the cokes the waitress dropped off. You sipped at the coffee she left behind for you.

“He’s the first person I’ve been with since I left Seth.” You confessed. “I mean, I’ve had one night stands, but never with anyone like him. It’s never been anything like this.”

“It’s never been with someone you’ve cared about.” He deducted.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “When I left Seth, I promised that I would never be with someone like that again. I never wanted anyone to have that type of power over me, and I didn’t want to get close to someone again just to realize that they’re a monster in disguise. It’s easier to be alone than to be alone while in a relationship, and I don’t ever want to suffer that way again.” You stirred some sugar into the mug, watching as the liquid formed a small whirlpool around the metal utensil. “When Jake and I first met, we were both on the same page, but somewhere along the way, the lines got blurred. I’m not innocent, either, and I know that. I was playing house with him and pretending like nothing was wrong, and then he started talking about wanting more, and it scared me so much that I ran. Well, no,” you chuckled “I backed him into a corner and forced him to run.”

“Why are you so scared of him, though? I mean, after this long, and after all of the shit you put each other through, you would be able to see that he’s bad, wouldn’t you?” He played with the paper wrapper that was previously encased around his straw, peeking up from his hands to catch your gaze.

“Maybe? I don’t know.” You sighed, your shoulders slumping with the weight of your emotions. “I’m not scared of him, per say. I’m scared of love, and I’m scared of getting hurt, and I’m scared of losing another person that I care about.”

“Is this about Seth, or is this about your dad?” He asked, voice as quiet as a mouse. He seemed afraid to ask, but more than that, he seemed afraid of your response.

You were stunned for a moment, and the flood of emotion that ran through you was more powerful than anything you’d ever felt. If it were anyone else sitting before you asking that dreaded question, you would have stood and screamed, thrown things from the table just to make a scene and show them how uncalled for the moment was. Instead, you gave a slow blink, but you did not do any of the things you wanted to. While you processed his words, you were plagued with a lifetimes worth of memories that involved the boy sitting across from you. Memories of him holding you while you screamed and cried in your childhood bedroom, clutching your fathers last worn t-shirt tightly to your chest. Memories of his hand in yours while you zombied your way through the funeral proceedings, and memories of him being the only person in the world who could pry a smile from your face while being plagued with such grief.

Even worse than that, there was memories of him sitting at the kitchen table with your father, talking about the football game that aired on television the night before. Ones where Scott would not just drive you to the hospital to visit your father while he succumbed to sickness, but where he walked into the morbid building and sat beside you, your sister and your mother while you tried to cheer your father up during his last days on earth. Scott was allowed to ask that question, not just because of how familiar he was with your grief, but because he grieved, too. Scott may have been a face that was forgotten along with the past, but he was not one that became insignificant. You fought tooth and nail to remove yourself from the life you lived so long ago, but a bond like such carried through until the end of time.

Your heartbreak from Jake may have done more damage than good, but there is always light that shines in the dark. Your breakup allowed for you to sit across the table at a fabled diner with your best friend for the first seventeen years of life. Your time away may have allowed you to forget how much of you he’d seen, but your heart could never forget the importance of his presence.

Instead of screaming, you nodded your head, telling him all you refused to say aloud. He was the only person who you would trust with such things, and despite your unwillingness to speak about it, you knew that he already knew the answer. Seth held little power over you anymore, and your fear of Jake turning out like him was ridiculous, but your dad? He was everything to you. He lived in every decision, every waking moment and thought that crossed your mind. He was a part of every heartbreak and triumph, and his advice rang in your ears every time you second-guessed yourself. The fear of disappointing him was true even after his death, and if anything, it only ever got worse.

More than that, his death crushed you. It left you lying on the floor, cursing every higher power and questioning the very universe that created you. It destroyed any hope and any sense of purpose, and it stole the happiness straight from your chest before it ever had the chance to bloom. You were familiar with loss, but despite it being an acquaintance, it was your own mortal enemy. You knew that it existed, and that it was always looming, but you lived your life in such a way that loss could not touch you. You never let people get too close, and you cut them off before they tried. You distanced yourself from everyone you loved most in hopes of sparing yourself the pain, and you could not even allow yourself to get a pet in anticipation of the crushing grief to come when it was their time to pass on.

The idea of loving Jake scared you so much that it shook you to the core, disrupting your entire life and forcing you to lock him out. The fear did not stem from your inability to love, or because you could not trust your own judgement of his character, but because you could not handle it if he were to suddenly get up and leave. You could not choke down the idea of loving someone enough to hurt after they were gone, and since your father died, no loss could ever come close to the pain you had felt from his death. Now, you knew that Jake leaving was the only pain in the world that could rival the one you had felt so many years ago, housed in your childhood home that held only a ghost of the man you loved most.

“Of course it is, Scott. It’s always about him.” Your throat was dry like you had just screamed out, and your eyes burned as if tears had ran them dry, but none of those things happened; the grief was so plentiful that it had bled you dry, and now it was the only thing to exist within your veins. “I can’t love him because I cannot imagine losing someone again. I can’t imagine how much it would hurt if he walked away, or if… yeah.”

“You don’t have to imagine it, sunshine.” He said, giving you a sympathetic smile. “You’re feeling it right now.”

“I know I am, but I keep trying to convince myself that hurting right now will save me from something worse later on.” You rubbed your face in your hands, wiping away non-existent tears. You felt like you were crying, and you knew you should be, but there seemed to be no tears left to cry.

“Or you’re holding yourself back from the best thing you’ve ever felt.” He offered the alternative, pausing the conversation while the waitress sat your food in front of you. He muttered a thank you, and once again, she was on her way. “Sure, leaving first ensures that he can’t leave you, but it also kills any possibility of happiness. What you’re doing right now limits you from a world of good; everything good comes with risk, y/n, and from what you’re telling me, he seems worth the risk.”

“He is. He’s worth it all.” You nodded, biting into a French fry. Despite your sorrow, you felt better than you had in days. “And I am worried about that pain, because I’m scared I can’t survive it again, but what I’m worried about most is that I’m too broken for him to handle. I don’t know how to love someone, Scott. It’s been five years since I’ve even let someone stay in my life for more than a weekend. Maybe I did all of those years ago, but not anymore. I’m angry, and I’m stubborn, and I’m more work than I’m worth. It’s not fair to him, and as much as I fear him breaking my heart, I’m even more afraid of breaking his.” You explained. “He’s been hurt, too. He deserves the world, and I’m not the person that can give it to him. He needs someone who has their shit together, and I’ve never once had all of my ducks in a row.”

“You can’t make that decision for him, y/n.” He said, taking a bite from his own meal. He let the words sit with you for a moment before speaking again. “I know you, and all you’ve ever wanted to do was protect people. It’s incredibly amicable, but sometimes you have to let them choose for themselves. To me, it sounds like he thinks you’re worth the risk, too.”

“I can’t do that to him.” You shook your head. “Sure, he’s choosing for himself, but I don’t think he knows what he’s getting into.”

“After this long, he knows, y/n, and he doesn’t care.” He assured you. “Listen, I know how guys think: if he was in this for any lesser purpose, he would have left a long time ago. If he did not care about you, he would not have shown up at the restaurant that night. That look in his eye was more than jealousy; it was the type of love that drives you insane. Don’t think you breaking up with him will get rid of that.”

“How do I stop being afraid?” You asked, in disbelief of the fact that he thought it was simple. “I’ve been afraid my whole life, it’s not just something I can turn off, even if I wish it was.”

“You never stop being afraid, sunshine. You just have to love each other enough that it doesn’t matter anymore.”

The meal went by without any further talks of Jake or your last heartbreaks. Instead, you filled the air with jokes and laughter, and gratitude for being in each others lives again. Although your relationship was rekindled for poor reasons, you were still thankful that you got the chance to be around him again. When the check came, you fulfilled your promise to repay him for the dinner cut short. When you climbed back into his car, you felt dread settle in your stomach. You weren’t ready to go home; you had been alone for days, and while that was something you normally loved, you’d now grown to hate it. You felt so happy to be with company that the idea of going home to an empty house sickened you. Worse yet, you did not know if you could go back and suffer through your relentless thoughts about Jake.

The drive home was filled with loud music, both of you singing along at the top of your lungs. You managed to convince him to stop at a coffee shop, claiming that you needed more caffeine to survive the day, but it was only to avoid the inevitable. When you made it back to the suburbs that you called home, your body felt heavy with the weight of your own loneliness. He pulled into your driveway, slowly rolling the car to a stop before he put it into park.

“Thank you, Scott.” You mumbled, looking down at your hands settled in your lap.

“No need for thanks,” he brushed you off “I hope I helped.”

“You did.” You nodded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I definitely feel better.”

“You don’t need to know right now.” He assured you. “You can take all the time you need; it’s your life, sunshine.”

“You’re right.” You breathed, forcing a smile on to your face. “I’m sorry things ended up like this. It wasn’t my intent for you to be my own personal therapist.”

“It was meant to work out like this.” He shrugged. “I’m just happy I get to see you again. Watching your life through limited Facebook posts was sad. I missed my friend, and that’s the biggest reason I asked you out.”

“I missed you, too. I think I would really like it if we hung out more often.” You confessed. “I’ve been far too isolated. I’m too young to be so afraid of being alive.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, leaning across the seats to give you a hug. You rested in his arms for a moment, soaking up all of the physical contact you could before having to retreat inside. “I’ll see you soon?” He asked, pulling back just enough to catch sight of your face.

“Of course. Thank you again.” You gave him one last smile before making your departure, feeling your stomach sink more with every step you took towards the front door.

You had no idea what to do, and a part of you felt like you should call Jake and at least apologize for all that happened. Still, there was a bigger, more stubborn part of you that still believed he was better off without you. Once you locked the door and you were safely inside, you heard Scott pull out of your driveway and begin his journey home. You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse down on your kitchen counter. You reached into the pocket of your sweater, letting your fingers linger on your phone for a moment. You wanted to pull it out, to dial Jake’s number from memory and confess everything your heart felt for him. For a while, you sat in the kitchen, clutching your phone and unable to find the strength to go any further.

You loved him, but you loved him enough that you could not bear the thought of dragging him down with you. He was too good, and you were too much. The thought alone made tears pool in your eyes and your bottom lip begin to quiver. You wondered if your dad was looking down on you, proud of you for being the bigger person, or if he was disappointed in you for letting another good thing pass you by.

Then, the most painful thought of all struck you out of nowhere: he would never get the chance to meet Jake and grow to love him like you did.

You knew your father would be Jake’s biggest fan; his kind heart and his lax attitude was loveable no matter who he was using it on, and his love of music and talent on the guitar would win your dad over indefinitely. Jake was the type of guy your father had begged you to fall in love with, but he surely did not anticipate you being too broken to love him back.

Suddenly, the thoughts and the feelings got to be too much and you had to force yourself out of them. Instead of calling Jake, you shut off your phone. Instead of being the bigger person and confessing your love, you climbed into bed fully clothed and searched for the scent of him in your bedsheets. Instead of growing up and forgetting your fear, you closed your eyes and fell asleep while trying to remember what it felt like to have his arm wrapped around you.

When you woke, the sun was no longer shining through the window. Instead, the moonlight was plentiful and it casted a white glow over your bedroom, illuminating the sadness and the emptiness that now lived inside. You were groggy, barely within the plane of existence, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling. You were certain you heard a soft thud sound from the kitchen, but you chalked it up to you remaining amidst a dream despite being conscious, now. You tumbled from your bed, planting your feet firmly on the floor as you stretched out your arms and let out a yawn. When you stepped out of your room and into the bathroom to brush your teeth, you thought that you heard the sound again. You brushed it off, knowing that the likelihood of it being anything important was slim. The idea of someone knocking on your door was laughable, and you did not want to torture yourself by checking to see and being met with nothing.

You rinsed your mouth and wiped away the specs of mascara that had fallen underneath your eyes. You let out a sigh at your reflection, grabbing a a makeup wipe and ridding yourself of all the makeup. You washed your face and moved on to the kitchen, where you grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the fridge and began pouring yourself a glass. It had become a nightly routine, and you knew that with a few shots, you’d be back to sleep in no time.

As you dropped the ice into your glass you heard the noise again, but stronger this time. It caught your attention so fast that you could not doubt that it was real. You wondered if Scott had driven back to your side of town to check on you, or if maybe your mother had come over to see if you were alive. You had been ignoring her calls and messages, and although you knew you should answer, you could not bring yourself to do it. You took a sip of your drink before stepping towards the door, using it as a bit of courage to face another social interaction. Your fear of being alone no longer existed, and the longer you stayed holed up in your house, the more tempting isolation seemed.

You unlocked the deadbolt and the knob, wondering who would be here so late at night if not for a friend. Lately, friends were scarce and you had little idea who could be there. When you opened the door fully, getting a clear view of who was on the other side, you nearly fell to your knees. You were frozen, stuck staring at his face as you processed the fact he was really standing there, the corners of his lips upturned into a small, breathtaking smile. He seemed just as happy to see you, but he did not make a move to greet you first. Eventually, you mustered enough courage to speak.

“Hi,” you breathed, completely taken aback by the boy in front of you. After days of missing him, wondering if you would ever be lucky enough to see him again, you had a hard time believing that the man before you was real. In some strange way, it felt like he was a figment of your exhausted and worn down imagination. You feared that if you reached out and touched him, he would disappear before your very eyes. You did not want to be met with any more disappointment, because in the last week, that was all you felt. If he were to suddenly fade away, you thought that you might not be able to survive it. The sight of his face was the most comforting thing you had seen since he was last with you, and the knowledge that he was still thinking of you made you weak in the knees.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, stepping out of the way to allow him inside. You tried not to think about the butterflies running rampant in your belly at the sound of the pet name. He stepped towards you, out of the warm night air and into the comfort of your home that he’d grown so used to. You watched his face, dazed at his beauty and wondering how you ever forced yourself to let him go. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and a look in his eyes that you could not place. You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen it before, but you liked it more than you cared to admit.

Then, before he spoke again, you had a sudden sense of dread wash over you; he was likely only there to retrieve his clothing he had left behind. The ache in your chest at the thought was unbearable, but you forced yourself to remain calm and allow him to do what he needed to do.

“You’re here to get your stuff?” You asked, trying to hide your feelings of frustration and sound as cheerful as possible. If only you could tell him how much you cared, maybe he wouldn’t clear out the only remaining memories of your relationship. You hated how much you had grown to like his life being intertwined with your own in such ways. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking over your face as he tried to place the emotion behind your eyes.

“No, angel.” He chuckled, dropping his bag down on the floor. You listened to the sound, realizing that if anything, it sounded quite full. A rush of relief ran through you, even if you knew you should have wanted him to clear out all of his belongings. It was for the best, even if you did not want him to leave again, especially for good.

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to compute what was happening. “So… why are you here?” You hated that it came out so harsh, and it was not at all what you were intending, but it did get your point across clearly. You were confused, you were still hurting, and more than anything, you wanted to know what his intent was.

He stepped closer to you, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Then, he reached up, letting the knuckle of his index finger softly caress your cheek. You let your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, the sensation intoxicating and when mixed with the scent of his cologne, deadly. He tucked your hair behind your ear as he noticed pieces falling from the messy bun sat atop your head. After that, his hand drifted towards your neck, settling gently on the back of it as he drew you closer to him.

You were too weak to fight him, and too tired to care. You missed his comfort more than anything, and you did not want to deny yourself the pleasure after you had suffered so much.

“You look tired, sweetheart.” He said, studying your face. He could see the dark circles forming, and the fire in your eyes he loved so much now seemed dim, nearly burnt out. Your head was upturned to meet his gaze, and he was looking down at you. In another universe, you would even go as far as to say that the two of you seemed to fit together with perfect harmony. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Not really.” You shook your head ever so slightly, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. You noticed the same tell-tale signs in his own features. “Have you?”

“No.” He said, still staring intently at your face. He missed it so much that he was trying to memorize every detail all over again. Unintentionally, you felt yourself leaning into him. His face was so close, and your eyes were begging to close as you pulled him in for a kiss. He felt it just as much, and he was hoping you would cross the invisible boundary you had drawn for yourself. You were in such close proximity that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, drawing you in further. The tip of your nose brushed against his, sending jolts of electricity through your whole body.

It was so good that you almost fell victim to him once again.

“Jake,” you breathed, pulling back from him and placing a soft hand on his chest so he would keep his distance. The separation was painful, but necessary. “We can’t do this. Friends don’t do this.” Tears pricked your eyes at the term of friendship, but you managed to blink them away before any slipped onto your cheeks.

“Right,” he sighed, nodding against you and accepting your words. Before you knew it, he had stepped out of reach and you were left wishing that you never spoke at all. You watched him move away from you, still questioning if you were dreaming or of conscious mind. For a second, you feared that he would walk towards the door and out of your life again. The grief at the thought alone was debilitating. Then, he bent down and unzipped the top of his track bag. You watched as he carefully pulled something from it, looking over the item for a moment before turning back to you. When he straightened up and made a move to face you again, you nearly fell to your knees. “That’s actually why I came here.” He said, clearing his throat to rid himself of the nervousness plaguing him.

He extended his hand towards you, watching you closely in fear of a volatile reaction. He had brought up the idea once before and you had confirmed your distaste for it, but he could not seem to help himself. He thought you deserved it. He thought that you were worth it. Your eyes were glued to the brown paper that was delicately wrapped around a bouquet of red roses. You were so stunned that you could not even manage to look up to meet his gaze.

How could he do that to you? How could he walk in like nothing happened with a bouquet of roses and a tongue as sharp as a knife? Sweetness dripped from his words and his actions, but you were in no state of mind to receive such treatment from him. His gestures were profound and you adored him for it, but it was not what you needed when you were dedicated to getting over him.

“Jake,” you warned, saying his name like it was the only hymn you knew how to sing. He appeared so ethereal, so beautiful and bright while he held the token of love, but you were not enough of a fool to believe that it could be true. His angelic smile and his breathtaking eyes were nowhere near anything holy, and you had learned the truth a long time ago. He was not good for you, and you were not good for him. You both knew it, but he did not want to accept it. By showing up and handing out grand gestures, he was only worsening the suffering.

“Stop it, y/n.” He said, giving you a stern look. “Take them, please. I spent so long picking them out that it would be a shame for them to go to waste.” Your heart sped at his words, realizing that the longer you looked, the less it seemed like the bouquet was a thoughtless, last minute purchase on his way over. The paper was arranged beautifully amidst the blood red petals and emerald stems and leaves. Tied around the stems was twine that was carefully cut and settled into a bow. You were not a background thought in his head; he had gone to an expensive florist and pondered over dozens of flowers to bring to you. He picked them with care and caution, wondering what would catch your eye the most.

He cared enough to spend the time and the money on you, but what was even worse than that was that he was the first person to ever give you a bouquet of flowers. How could you get over him when he’d been the first man in the world other than your father to care so much about you?

“Friends don’t give each other flowers.” You said, looking hesitantly towards his face.

“You’re right, y/n. Friends don’t give each other flowers.” He sighed, still holding his arm out to you. “I’m giving these to you because we’re not friends, and you and I both know that.”

“No, Jake.” You shook your head, crossing your arms across your stomach and hugging yourself to satiate the steadily growing anxiety. “I told you, we can’t do that. I’m not good for you. This isn’t good for us.” You shook your head, panicking at the idea of hurting each other again. He was too fantastic to be subject to the hurt the two of you were so good at causing.

“Would you quit that? Stop being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, getting visibly frustrated. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. You don’t get to choose if I want to be with you or not. Only I can, and I’m choosing you, y/n. I’m standing here in front of you, telling you that I am, and that I will choose you every day for the rest of my life. You don’t get to tell me that we can only be friends, and you don’t get to tell me that this won’t work. You can’t always call the shots. I get a say, too.”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just saying that this is only going to hurt us! I’m trying to protect you, and I wish you could see that!” You exclaimed, trying to ward off the temptation to run into his arms. His words were devastatingly beautiful and everything you had ever longed to hear, but you could not be selfish and bring him down with you.

“Protect me from what?” He shot back, appalled at your inability to comprehend what he was saying. “You? Myself? Us?”

“Everything! I don’t know!” You were exasperated by his reaction, not able to understand how he could not see it the same way you did. Two people that hated love could not love each other peacefully. You had proven that with your jealousy and toxic games, and you cared about him far too much to involve him in such things. The sin the two of you had engaged in had left you both resembling the devil, and you feared that if you let it go any further, you would turn to ash in the barren, fiery wastelands of hell.

“I shouldn’t have left that night, y/n. I never should have let you go, but I didn’t want to push you, and I didn’t want to scare you away. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m here now to tell you everything I need to say. I have to get it off my chest, because if I don’t, it’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life. If you still think that it’s for the best, then I’ll let you go, but not until I tell you everything.” You watched him, pain written so clearly on your face. You did not have the heart to turn him down, and you did not have the strength to keep up the act. You wanted him so badly that it was impossible to send him away, and his persistence was charming despite your hesitancy.

“Okay.” You nodded, choking on the word as it fell from your lips. You knew that whatever he had to say would turn your whole world upside down, but for some reason, you were okay with it. When in his company, even if he was causing peacefulness or devastation, it seemed right. You could comfortably watch him tear your house down one panel at a time, and you would have a smile on your face and love in your heart because you were there with him. You reached out, slowly wrapping your fingers around the bouquet. Your hand brushed against his as you did, the burning warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. You had no idea how even the simplest of interactions with him always seemed so magnificent. “Thank you, Jake.” You looked down at the petals, tears shining in your eyes as you digested the sentiment that came along with the gift.

Now that you held them, it made the moment all the more real. Jake was a man who cared about you so deeply that it made you question if he was even real. You had never felt emotion so strongly, good or bad. He made everything a million times more powerful, and even something as small as buying you flowers seemed to knock the air from your lungs and make your knees weak. You had never felt so important to anyone in your entire life, and as good as it felt, you feared that if it ever came to an end, you would perish from the grief of the loss.

“You keep saying that you want to protect me, but there’s nothing you have to protect me from, y/n. I’m a grown man who understands what I’m getting myself into, and I’m telling you that I don’t care about the risks.” He watched you take a step towards the kitchen, following closely behind you as you moved to set the flowers on the counter. Once they were safely placed, you turned to look at him again, giving him all of your attention. “When I met you at the bar that night, I wasn't looking for anything but sex. We both know that, and I don’t feel a need to lie about it. When I sat down and I finally got you to talk to me, I knew right away that you were going to be more than sex. You can’t just meet someone so fantastic and pretend they’re ordinary, angel, and you are all but ordinary.” Your stomach twisted in knots at his words, but you bit down on your tongue and listened as he poured his heart out to you.

“You are the most beautiful, smart, witty, and charming woman I have ever met. You take my breath away every time I see you, and you make me feel things I’ve never felt before in my entire life. I could go on about how I feel about you forever, but it still wouldn’t even come close to how I feel in my heart. I don’t think there’s enough words in the dictionary to describe how much I care for you.” He was close to you, but not enough that you felt trapped. There was about a foot of space between you, and you would never say it, but you were desperate for him to come closer. Your eyes were focused on his face as he spoke. The emotion in his eyes was so profound that you could feel it as if it were your own. “I know I promised you that I wouldn’t fuck this up, and I’m sorry that things happened the way they did, but falling for you was the easiest thing I have ever done. I was yours before we ever left the bar that night, and as much as you don’t want me to be, I can’t apologize for something I don’t believe is wrong. I am sorry that I broke my promise, but I have never been sorry for caring about you.”

“I’ve spent the last three months trying to memorize every detail about you because I want to know everything you have to offer. I know that you hate breakfast, because it’s too intimate, and emotional intimacy scares the shit out of you. I know that you have the exact same routine before bed; you turn on your fan to the third setting, because the fourth is too loud and the second isn’t enough. Then, you climb into bed and you check your phone, but not for texts or social media likes. You check your schedule, just to make sure you’re not forgetting about an appointment with a client, because your work means everything to you. Then, you get up again because you can remember if you locked the door or not, and you make sure the oven is off for the fifth time while you’re out there. When you get back into bed, you toss and turn for twenty minutes until you eventually end up on your stomach, because that is the only way you can fall asleep.” As he told you the most miniscule details about yourself, your ego shattered and the shards of what once was so strong seemed to stab you with every breath. Nobody had ever cared to know you so well, and he was recounting it like he’d dedicated his whole life to studying it.

“Your sister is your whole life, and you mark off the days on your calendar just so you can count down the hours until she comes home to visit. You only ever sit on the left side of the couch, and you have about a dozen half-empty water bottles beside your bed because you forget about your open one and grab a new one every night. When you laugh, you cover your mouth with your hands and you try to keep it to yourself. I don’t know why, because it’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. You play with your hair when you’re nervous, and you blush when you lie.” As he spoke, your hand darted away from the ends of your hair as if it had just burned you.

“Stop, Jake.” You whispered, feeling sick at the sheer amount of knowledge he had about you.

“No, y/n.” He shook his head. “I’ll never stop talking about you, because knowing you so well is the best feeling in the whole world, especially because I know I’m the only one who does. I could talk about you for hours, because I think everyone should know how fantastic you are. I know all of this stuff, and I still want more. You can call me selfish, but I don’t care. I want to spend my life getting to know you, and I will be eighty years old and still wanting to learn something new about you.” He explained, hoping you were understanding what he meant. “Friends don’t know each other like this, sweetheart, and it would be a fucking shame if we tried to be strangers again after everything we’ve been through. Knowing you any less than I do right now seems like torture, and I don’t ever want to do that.”

“I’m not scared of you, and I’m not scared of this. I’ve spent every day since I first met you falling for you, and now, it’s the most comfortable feeling I’ve ever felt. You don’t get to tell me that I’d be happier without you, or as friends, or with someone else, because it’s just not true. You are what I want, and I know you have to feel it, too. I’ve never felt this way before, and I know we’ve both been hurt, and I know that you’re scared, but you can’t tell me that this isn’t good for us. We haven’t even tried, angel. If you let me, I can show you that love is not as scary as it seems, because we’ve already been doing it.”

“Jake,” you let out a shaky breath, your eyes shining with tears as you tried to process all he was saying. His name seemed like the only thought your brain could formulate.

“Baby, you are everything to me. I’m here, and I want to stay if you’ll let me. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to hurt you like everyone else has. I know that I already have, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it right, but I promise that I will never do that to you again.” He took a small step towards you, gauging your comfort before he jumped straight into it. “I know that you don’t like this part, but I would be an idiot if I didn’t ask you to try. I want to be what you deserve, and I want to be with you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything my whole life.” He reached out, lifting your chin up with his index finger to look in your eyes. “All I’m asking for is one chance. One shot to prove that I’m telling the truth. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left you here, and I don’t think I ever will.”

He cared, and he cared so much that he was willing to get his heart broken all over again for the chance to have you. He did not want to promise you love and then leave, nor did he want to pretend to be all you needed just to take it away. He wanted you, and loving you was all he ever wanted to do. Jake had never been the enemy; you only had yourself to blame, ruining your chances at happiness before the opportunity ever arose. You were hurt, guarded and protective over your own frail heart, but he did not want to shatter it like you previously thought. He wanted to help strengthen it again, to show you that your heart would be safe as long as it was offered to the right people. He wanted to love you like you always should have been, and Scott was right that night at the restaurant; what the two of you had was a type of love that you should never let go of. He was the most selfless, caring and kind man you had ever met, and if you let him leave once more, you knew you would lose him forever.

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding your head as your heart drummed rapidly against your chest. You were terrified, but being in his company made the fear obsolete. The look in his eyes aided you in believing that you would be more than okay, and that he would be better than anyone who came before. You felt like you were being crushed underneath the weight of your own longing for him. “I’ll try for you, Jake.” There was no doubt in your mind that you would try until your body began to deteriorate and your mind went numb. You would try for him until you could no longer do it and death was the only other option. You would do anything to experience love at his hand again, because it was the most beautiful thing you had ever experienced.

“Yeah?” He asked with a little laugh stuck in his throat that screamed disbelief.

“Yes,” you nodded, praying that he would bridge the gap. Before you could ask him to come closer, his hands shot out and grabbed your face between them, still gentle with you as if he was scared to break you. He stepped forward, and within seconds, his lips were locked on your own and your arms were around him again. The taste of him was addicting, more than any other drug in the world. The feeling of his skin on your was intoxicating, and his hands felt like heaven when they touched you with such care. You were helplessly in love with him, and no amount of time or distance could change it. He was everything you needed, all of the time, and you were an idiot to try and push him away.

When he parted, you were both breathless and smiling. He was still close enough to your face that you could feel his warmth, and you hoped that he never had to pull back. You wanted to live in the bliss forever, and with him until the end of time.

“I want to try, Jake. I’m so scared, but I want to try as long as it’s with you.” The quiver in your voice was louder than anything else in the room, and he drank up the vulnerability as if he was dying from thirst. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to get hurt, but you were right; we can’t let go of this without giving it our best. I’ve been so terrified of losing you that it’s made me blind to how much I care, and I don’t ever want to feel how I felt this week ever again.” All he could do was smile; there was no words to describe the relief he felt.

“I knew you were something more, too. You came in here and suddenly my house felt empty without you. I hate love and relationships, but you make me hate the idea a lot less. I want to try, and I want us to try together, but I want it to work. I don’t want to give up when things get hard, and I don’t want to fight or make each other suffer. I want to be with you, and I want to do it right, this time.” You confessed, all of the words pouring from you with no signs of stopping. “I’m scared to fall in love with you because I was scared of losing you, but I’m doing it anyway by forcing you to stay away. You’re worth the risk, Jake. You always have been, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t say it sooner.”

“You’re saying it now.” He breathed, almost unable to believe that the words were genuine. When he showed up at your doorstep, he expected to be met with rejection. Instead, you were telling him everything he craved to hear from you. It was almost too good for him to believe that it was true. “That’s what matters, angel.” He placed another kiss to your lips, lingering there for a moment to soak up all of the intimacy he could. “I want that, too. I’ve done it wrong so many times, but I want to do it right this time. I want to do it right with you.”

“I missed you so much.” You admitted, reaching up and cupping his cheek in your hand. You let your thumb drift over the soft skin, wondering how you ever survived without him around.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. I’m here, and I want to stay.” You closed your eyes, fighting back tears at the sound of his words. He was here, he wanted to stay, and he wanted to love you. You were so lucky to have him, and you were so stupid to think that you could let him go. One of his hands dropped to your hip, his fingers gently grasping at you as he attempted to pull you closer. “I’m going to say it.”

“Say what?” You giggled, peeking at him through tired eyes. You were exhausted, finally comfortable after days of suffering and sleepless nights, but you weren’t willing to end the moment yet. You would never sleep again if it meant you could always be with him, just like you were in that moment.

“I love you, sweetheart.” A wave of emotion washed over you, stopping your heart and filling your lungs. You watched his face, seeing in his eyes that he’d never meant anything more in his life. It was a word you’d banished so long ago, and it was something that you were certain you could live without. Now that he was in front of you, saying it in the same sweet tone he always used, you could not imagine a life without hearing it every day. You had no idea why you were so afraid of it, or why you were so afraid of him. He was the whole world, and you knew that from the very beginning. His devilish charm and intoxicating attitude made it impossible not to love him, and you knew that any woman would jump at the chance to have him. You were the luckiest person to ever live, and you could not picture loving anybody else the way you loved him.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, softly and slowly, making sure he heard every syllable. He had been waiting so long to hear it that you could not deny him of it for one more second.

He barely had time to smile before his lips were back on yours, hungrier than the last. You slipped your hand to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the locks of his hair. It was different than any other kiss you shared before; it tasted like freedom and it was laced with the notion of letting go. For the first time since you met him, you felt like you could show all of yourself to him. There were no barriers, no doubt nor hesitations. It was just the two of you, enjoying loving each other without fear getting in the way. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever felt, and you never wanted to feel any other way.

Loving Jake was the best thing you had ever experienced, even with the turmoil that you had been through. The pain and the losses were just as important as the good moments and the happiness, because it all led you to where you sat in that moment. The hurt was worth it as long as it meant you could love him, and you would suffer through it all over again just to be able to be loved by him. As his hand slipped under your shirt, settling on the warm skin underneath, you knew that you would never be happier with someone else. He was what you wanted, and any doubt about it was obsolete now.

You could not hold back the moan that slipped into his mouth at the feeling of his hand on you again. The rough, calloused fingertips from his guitar playing felt like heaven against the smooth skin on your body. Now, with the proclamation of love still lingering in the air, every movement and touch was amplified by a million. Your body was on fire, and he barely even touched you. You weren’t sure if it was solely accredited to the vulnerability the two of you shared, or if it was because you’d spent so many days longing to be touched by him. No matter which it was, it did not matter. All that mattered was that he was there, and things were okay.

“Say it again, angel.” He muttered against your lips, still trying to catch his breath.

“I love you,” you breathed, pressing your lips back to his before the words could fully pass through your mouth. His grip on you tightened, ecstatic to hear the sound. “I love you so much.” You said again, unable to hold it back any longer. You wanted to scream your love for him from the highest rooftops, telling the whole world how much he meant to you, but you feared that it still would not be enough. His lips trailed from your lips down to your neck, settling on the sweet spot just below your ear. You let out a breathy moan at the feeling of his tongue on your skin, your hands tightening on him as a silent show of enjoyment.

“We’re gonna have to do this differently now, beautiful.” His voice vibrated against you, making your eyes flutter closed at the light tickle that quickly spread.

“What do you mean?” You asked, still lost in the blissful nature of his touch.

“I can’t fuck you like a whore, anymore.” He said, snaking his hand up your shirt and landing it over your breast clothed only by the thin material of your bra. His thumb found your nipple through the fabric, feeling it harden under his touch. “I have to fuck you like I love you.”

“Can’t you fuck me like a whore anyway?” You challenged, not willing to give up the sex life you had already built with him. He chuckled at the disappointment in your tone, glancing up at you to catch your gaze.

“You like it better that way?” He raised an eyebrow. Your cheeks heated with a blush at the look in his eyes.

“Y-yes, sir.” You nodded.

“I tell you I love you and you behave yourself… maybe I should have said it a long time ago.” He related the two, smiling to himself as he thought about it. “How about I do both? Does that sound good to you, angel?”

“Sure, yeah.” You felt your lips upturn into a smile, happy with anything he was willing to give you.

“Glad we could come to that agreement.” He chuckled, giving your breast a gentle squeeze as he finished speaking. “Now, get in the bedroom and take your fucking clothes off. I’ve got time to make up for, and I don’t feel like waiting any longer.”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated your earlier statement, trying to ignore the ache that began between your legs. He dropped his hand from you, giving you a gentle nudge towards the bedroom. You followed his guidance, letting out a small yelp as his hand collided with your ass as you turned away. You shot him a look over your shoulder as you continued walking away, but he only responded with a wink.

You made quick progress with taking your clothes off, unashamed of your own excitement. You kicked them off to the side, peering out into the kitchen to see if he was following. When you didn’t see him or hear him walking to join you, you stepped towards the door, peeking just your head around it. You gazed out, finding your heart melt at the sight. He was peering through your cupboards, flowers in hand, in search of a vase to put them in. Eventually, he found a suitable holder for them, filling it with water and unwrapping the bouquet. He placed them inside, smiling at his own accomplishment, and turned towards your room.

He caught you staring, finding himself only slightly embarrassed at the thought. He gave you a smile as his cheeks tinged red. “What?” He asked, defending himself when there was no need to.

“Nothing,” you giggled, stepping out from the door frame so he could see you followed his instructions. He took in a sharp breath, surprised that you had been so obedient. Then, his eyes seemed to darken with lust as he got closer to you. “You’re just taking care of things out there like… oh, I don’t know, you love me or something?” He let out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your statement.

“Yeah, as if.” He teased, stepping towards you and scooping you into his arms with one swift motion. You let out a shriek of laughter, slinging your arms around his neck while you wrapped your legs around him. He found himself laughing at you, too. Your joy was infectious, and he wanted to soak up every minute of it. He pressed his lips to yours as he stepped towards the bed, breaking from the kiss for a moment to check over your shoulder and ensure there was nothing on the mattress. When he deduced that the coast was clear, he moved forward so his knees were touching the bed, then he dropped you down on the mattress without warning.

You let out a gasp of surprise as you landed with a thud, bouncing back up slightly from the impact. “What was that for?” Your lip formed into an unintentional pout, displeased with his actions, but he was too busy pulling his shirt over his head to notice.

“This is where the love part comes in.” He explained, chucking as he threw his shirt to the ground. “It’s not just about fucking you until you can’t walk; we get to have fun, too.”

“That wasn’t fun, I could’ve gotten hurt!” You exclaimed, but a smile was tugging at your lips. He unbuttoned his jeans, slipping out of them and kicking them to the side before looking back at you.

“Sweetheart, I would never do anything that would hurt you. You know that.” He scolded, playfulness still dancing in his eyes. He moved closer, climbing onto the bed and hovering atop of you for a moment. “Well, too bad, anyway.” He added, running his fingers over the lingering mark from his belt that was left from the weekend before. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize.” You assured him, the sting of the leather already long forgotten in your mind. “I deserved it.”

“You can be quite a brat,” he agreed, smiling down at you. The chain around his neck dangled in the air and his hair swooped down to frame his face. The sight of him was breathtaking, and you wished you could sear the picture in your mind forever.

“You bring out the worst in me.” You shrugged, distracted by the gleam of emotion in his eye. It was different than before, less animalistic and much more complex. It was love, and even though you did not recognize it yet, you would in the days to come, for it was dancing in your eyes, too.

“I don’t think that’s true, angel.” He argued, leaning down so his lips were hovering over your bare chest. He watched you take in a sharp breath, anticipating his next move with excitement. He placed a soft kiss to the top of your breastbone, slowly making his way downward with the same gentle nature. He brought one hand to your hardened nipple, letting the rough pad of his thumb drift across the sensitive nub. Your back arched upwards in reaction. The feeling was small, and the reaction was not because of the sensation, but rather because he was the one causing it.

He brought his mouth down to your breast, letting his tongue take over for his thumb. Your eyes fluttered closed as the familiar feeling of arousal blossomed in your belly. It was so easy for him to turn you into a mess, and sometimes you wondered if he knew the extent of the power he held over you. He suctioned his lips around the nipple, letting his tongue run over it a few times to let you enjoy the moment. Once you were comfortable and unsuspecting, he let his teeth sink into you ever so slightly. You jumped at the sensation, but he’d already moved on before you could voice a complaint.

He kissed a sloppy trail down to your navel, reveling in the noises that were falling from your lips. Eventually, he paused, looking back up at you through his lashes to soak in your needy expression. His mouth was hovering just over your heat, and the ache between your legs was growing harder to ignore. You needed him, and you did not know if you could wait any longer. “What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, the far away look in his eyes telling you how badly he needed to hear you tell him how much you wanted him.

“Need it so bad, Jake.” You squirmed underneath his gaze, finding it almost too powerful to hold. “It’s been so long.”

“You need me?” He purred, the corners of his lips upturned into a smirk. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your cunt, the temptation of seeing all of you too much to resist.

“I do, sir.” You pleaded, feeling the arousal begin to push you towards insanity. You could feel his breath on your skin, teasing you without even trying. His mouth was watering from the sight alone, but he wanted to savor the moment for as long as he could. “Please, baby.” You tried again, reaching down and caressing his cheek with your thumb. You thought that the sweetness might coerce him into giving in. The soft brown of his irises were gone, now, blackened with his lust-blown pupils. He wanted you just as bad, and the soft touch of your fingers was forcing him to remember how badly he missed you.

“Do you know how much I thought about this?” He asked, grabbing your hip with one of his hands. He pulled you down ever so slightly, his mouth practically touching you, now. “How badly I wanted to see you like this?”

“How bad, sir?” You played stupid; you knew how much he thought about you because you had thought about him just as much. You wanted to hear it, to know how desperate he was for you when he couldn’t have you.

“I thought about it every night,” he muttered, his eyes now focused on your cunt, clenching around nothing just from the memory of him being inside of you. “I thought about all of those slutty little noises, how pretty you looked with my cock in your mouth.” He listed, biting back a smirk as he noticed your cheeks redden at his words. “I was worried someone else was taking care of you and that pretty little cunt.” He continued, letting a trail of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. “Did you get someone else to take care of you, sweetheart?”

“No, sir.” You let out a shaky breath, completely enthralled by his devilish charm. The filth he was speaking even seemed to draw you in. At that moment, Jake was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“No?” He asked, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Couldn’t find anyone else who could do it right?” You let your head fall back on the mattress as you felt his fingers run through your folds. “Nobody else could fuck you like I can, right sweetheart?”

“No, Jake.” You agreed. “Nobody else could fuck me like you can.” He let out a hum of satisfaction at your words, letting his middle and index finger slip inside you as his thumb drifted over your aching clit.

“Why is that?” He questioned, beginning to move his fingers at a slow pace. You were too immersed in the feeling of pleasure he was giving you to notice he spoke again. “Why can nobody else make you feel this way, baby?”

“Because I’m yours, Jake.” You let the possessive claim slip without care. You were his, and you only ever wanted to be his. “Because I love you.” You said, adding on to the original comment.

“Cause you’re all mine, angel.” He agreed, smiling at the thought. He curled his fingers upwards ever so slightly, hitting the sensitive spot inside you he’d grown to know so well. You let out a soft moan, moving your hips down on his hand for more. You were so desperate that under any other circumstances, you would be shameful. Now, with Jake on top of you, you couldn't care less. He knew how badly you needed him whether you said it or not; there was no hiding from Jake, and you were okay with that. “And I love you, too.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his voice saying such sweet words.

“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling your abdomen tense with pleasure. You were so close, and he’d barely even started.

“Already?” He asked, amazed at the thought.

“It’s been a while,” you huffed, still too lost in the euphoria to care. “It feels so fucking good, Jake.”

“Tell me how good it feels, baby. Wanna hear all about it.” He encouraged you as he leaned down, moving his thumb from your clit and replacing it with his tongue.

“Oh, god.” You tangled your hand in his hair, needing more than he could possibly give you. Your whole body was ablaze with sin, once again falling victim to his routine. You tried so hard to stay away, but the truth was, you didn’t want to stay away. He was too fantastic at everything he did, and his company was too pleasurable to deny. You were in lust by the first touch and in love by the first conversation. Jake was something otherworldly, and you knew that from the very beginning. His love outweighed every consequence that you could face in hell. The devil was between your legs, and you were too weak to resist him. He had made you a fool for his sin, but just now were you realizing the extent of the damage.

As his fingers curled inside you again, the prescision in which they moved was almost too much too soon. You bucked your hips upwards against him, feeling the pressure rapidly increase in your stomach. You were right on the edge, and he barely had to try. He hummed against you, showing his appreciation of your enjoyment. Your heart was pounding against your chest, trying to break free from your ribs as he continued his torment. He was evil, but you could not seem to care because the evil was within you, too.

“You taste so fucking good,” he said, pulling back for just a moment to catch his breath. His words resembled a growl more than anything, and his grip tightened on your hip as he pulled you down further towards him.

“It’s all for you, baby.” You sighed, still lost in the feeling of his fingers pumping into you. He withdrew a long breath, trying to keep himself calm at the thought. There was no better feeling in the world than having you all to himself, and he never wanted to take it for granted again. Knowing he nearly lost you was painful, and he would not allow himself to be foolish enough to let you slip through his fingers again.

He returned his mouth to you, suctioning his lips sound your clit and throwing you straight back into euphoria. You tensed at the feeling, your fingers tightening in his hair as his name fell from your lips. You were praying to him as if he was the god that would save you, but he was nothing holy nor was he any force that could liberate you. He was the evil coursing through your veins, forcing you into the sin and coercing you into believing that it was right. He was the only man in the world who could drive you to such pleasure, but having such power told you that he was the exact entity you thought he was the entire time. You loved him too much to walk away, but he was too wicked to survive. As he worked you up to an orgasm, he was sucking the life from you at the same time. He was the very thing that kept your heart beating, and the very thing that would eventually take it away.

You were too far gone to realize you were in the grave; the dirt seemed pillowy and soft, warm and inviting despite the frost nipping at your skin, begging to freeze you there for the rest of eternity. Falling in love with Jake was the most painful death sentence you had ever faced, but he had such a way with his heart that he made death itself seem enjoyable. You were slipping away, but dying at his hands was the most pleasurable experience of your entire life, like it had been the exact thing you were born to experience.

The blissful feeling was so intense that you could feel it pulsing under your skin and behind your eyes. Your stomach was in knots, begging you to let go, but you feared that you would not survive the downfall. His fingers and tongue worked in time with each other to keep you on the edge, nearly pushing you over with every move. You couldn’t contain the orgasm, and he knew how close you were. Seven days without him was torture, and you felt like you had been deprived of your life’s greatest joy. He could feel how close you were; he knew your body better than you knew it yourself. The shallow breathing and the constant trail of moans that were falling from your lips told him all he needed to know, and the clench of your cunt around him solidified the idea. He was desperate for it, and you could feel that in the prescision of his movements.

“Jake,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as your head dropped to the mattress. “M’gonna cum.” You warned. He gave your hip a gentle squeeze, but did not change up his movements. It was his way of giving you silent permission to do so. With a ragged breath and an insatiable burning in your chest, your legs began to tremble from the intensity of the pleasure. All of your muscles were tense and every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire. After seven days of suffering, all of the pain and suffering seemed to be disappearing from your body the longer he carried on.

His name fell from your lips, mixed with a slur of curses and moans. The obscenities painted the walls with your sin, dripping down and ensuring they would remain in the foundation of the home until the end of time. There was not a single thing in the room that was not tainted with the wicked energy the two of you were exuding. He held you to him, ensuring you could soak up every second of pleasure the climax had to offer. You felt like you were going mad; your mind was a mess with thoughts all pertaining to the boy nestled between your legs. You feared that the intensity would never pass, your limbs aching with the rigid nature of your muscles and your lungs desperate for air.

Eventually, when he began to taper off his movements, the sensation began to fade. You relaxed against the mattress, finally able to fill your lungs with oxygen. When he pulled away from you completely, you were too dazed to notice the loss of contact. Your eyes were closed, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch up with the breaths you were deprived of momentarily. Your legs continued to tremble with the ghost of your orgasm and your stomach was still twisted into knots of pleasure. He did not move from his position, but instead got on his knees rather than laying on his stomach. His eyes were heavy with lust, crazed by the state you were in. He thought there was no way he’d be able to forget the way you looked when you were fucked out and drunk off him. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

Before you even came back to reality, he was lining himself up with your entrance. He guided your legs around him with little help from you, bracing his arm on the bed just beside your head. “You’re not giving up on me yet, are you angel?” He rasped, even his voice husky with the desire he was feeling for you. You managed to crack your eyes open at the sound of his voice, the sound too beautiful to ignore.

“I’m okay,” you promised, now focused on the feeling of his cock resting against you. The idea of fucking him was enough to give you the energy to continue on. “I promise.” You said, reaching up to touch his face. The feeling caused his eyes to flutter closed and a smile to blossom on his lips.

“That’s my girl.” He crooned, savouring the sensation only for a second before he was pushing himself inside of you. As much as he wished to live in the moment forever, he could not wait any longer. You both let out a hiss of relief, already needing more than you could have. “You always feel so fucking good.” He groaned, beginning at a slow pace. As much as he teased you for being so close so soon, he felt just the same. Seven days for him felt like an eternity without you, and he never wanted to experience it again. His hips moved slowly, but powerfully. The angle he had your hips settled at allowed him to reach a depth that made your head spin.

“J-just want to make you feel good, sir.” You whined, the sensitivity making his movements feel all the more enjoyable. His eyes darkened further at your words, the obedience driving him crazy. He’d never heard you be so submissive, and he wasn’t shy about his new found love for it. Not once had he gotten you into bed and did not hear a single argument or snide comment, but despite his love for the obedience, he couldn’t help but miss the sharp tongue you so often could not keep a hold of. He loved you for all of you, even your naturally argumentative self and your tendency to talk back. He was in love with everything you had to offer, and he knew that he always would be.

To make the devil fall in love is a daunting task, but within a few weeks, you had made yourself an expert in doing so.

“Yeah? You like being a little whore for me?” He asked, adding a little more power behind his thrusts. His cock brushed against your cervix, causing you to wince at the painful type of pleasure that shot through you. “You like it when I use you for whatever I want?”

“God, yes.” You muttered, looking up to meet his eyes. The sexual tension between you was so strong that it was hard to think of anything else, but there was something deeper, now. Connection, understanding, and love. The two of you had overcome the only barrier that had ever held you back. Fear was obsolete, replaced with the desire to know and to care. It was freeing, and the world seemed full of endless possibilities, now. You could not believe you had let the anxieties hold you back from something so wonderful and so fulfilling.

Then again, you knew that beneath the elation of your realizations, Jake was the one behind it all. The fear would never have left had he not been the one who you fell for. The risk would not be worth it if it were someone else between your legs, staring down at you with such admiration. Love was not worth it unless he was the one on the recieving end, nor would it be worth it if someone else were trying to give it to you. You knew that all you feared would be kept safe, locked up in his heart for eternity the same as it was in your own. He would keep every secret, every promise, and every failure safe. He would protect it as if his life depended on it, because he did not want anyone else to know all that he knew about you. He did not want anyone else to have the chance to have you like he did, and he did not want you to think that he was not the person he made you believe he was.

Your trust was the most important to him, and your love came second to that. He wanted you to depend on him, to let him in when the days seemed dark and dreary. He wanted you to share every tear and pain that you felt in your body, and he wanted you to share every failure and mistake. He wanted the goodness, but he wanted all of the bad, too. He loved you not just for your triumphs and successes, but also for your darkest moments. He wanted to be the person you could pour your heart into, no matter if it was happiness or sadness. He wanted you in your entirety, and he would love you through every single moment of your life, and even long beyond that.

The two of you went in search of sex, something to fill the void that was steadily growing in your hearts. You wanted casual without commitment, because neither of you yearned to bear your souls to another. Your sadness, your heartbreaks and your hurt had turned you cold, and made it so you wanted to keep everyone locked out. Intimacy in the emotional aspect scared the both of you beyond comprehension, yet in your search to find something to satiate the isolation, you had found so much more. In each other, you discovered all that you feared yet all that you needed all in the same place. You were terrified of love, yet craved it so badly it made your chest ache and your head spin. You were full of mistrust, yet desperate to find someone you could share your life with without fear.

It was not your job to seek love, but it had always been your duty to break down all of the barriers that prohibited it from entering your lives. In the three months of knowing each other, you did not intend or purposely search for love within each other, but you did break down every wall and defense you had built up prior to meeting each other. Because of that, love flowed in easily and endlessly, and the two of you were able to do the very thing you swore you would never do again.

Within each other, you found home. You found a hiding place, somewhere to rest and put down the burden of life for a while. You found friendship, connection, and purpose. You found a way to conquer your biggest fears and push your own boundaries enough to allow another inside.

In Jake, you had found everything you ever needed.

In you, he found everything he ever dreamed of.

Somewhere in the universe, the divine had found a way to forgive you for the wrongdoing and allow you a moment of peace. But, evil does not rest even when it seems like it has. Beneath the surface, the wicked forces were still working overtime to turn you rotten to the core. You had engaged in so much sin that your entire life was encrypted with it. Satan himself would draw back in fear if he looked into your eyes, yet the two of you were so blissfully ignorant to the fact that you felt as though you had repented enough to free yourself from the darkness.

“Come here, angel.” He said, pulling out of you for a moment. There it was again; the heavenly connotation to a woman so evil her own skin turned red.

He collapsed on the bed beside you, reaching out and pulling you on top of him. You were so distraught with the loss of contact that you let out an audible whine, but you did not have to suffer for too long. He guided your legs on either side of him, helping you position yourself so you could continue fucking. You planted your hand firmly on his chest, holding yourself up as he lined himself up with your entrance. His hands landed on your hips, his warm touch searing your cool skin. Without warning, he pulled you down on him with a strength that made your head spin. You let out a moan, telling him how good it felt when he filled you up in such a way.

“That’s better, sweetheart.” He muttered, helping you move your hips to maintain a steady rhythm. Once you were able to keep up the pace yourself, he removed one hand from you and brought it to your clit. He let his finger begin slow circles, encouraging you silently as you rode both of you into an orgasm. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so good, sir.” You panted, grinding your hips downwards onto him. His jaw was tense, his teeth clenched tightly as he focused on the way your body was moving on him. First, he admired your face. The twisted expression of pleasure was enough to send him into a climax, but he managed to hold himself back, wanting to enjoy you for just a little while longer. Your lips were parted slightly as obscenities fell from your tongue, dripping down onto him and drowning him in the sinful sounds. His gaze trailed down your neck, taking in every available inch of exposed skin. He studied the way the columns of your neck flowed down into your collarbones, and all the way down to your breasts which were bouncing with every movement of your body. He wanted you to be in the position solely so he could admire you without any obstruction of view.

His eyes trailed down your stomach, watching your muscles tense with the pleasure that you were feeling. He looked down at his hand anchored around your hip, his fingers digging into the skin with a promise to leave finger-shaped bruised by the morning. He could not deny the feeling of euphoria at the thought of your body being marked with memories of him for days to come. Eventually, his gaze landed on your cunt, where his hand was delicately coaxing an orgasm and your hips were jointed with his, the two of you intertwined in the most intimate and intoxicating way.

You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he could not hold the thought to himself. If he had to hide it, he thought he might die from the pressure of the notion pulsing against his skull.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He said, the words almost caught in his throat as he tried to speak them. The emotion in the room was heavy, weighing both of you down and inevitably pushing you even closer together. “I love you, y/n.” The profound nature of his words made your head spin and your heart skip a beat. You looked down, catching his eyes and seeing the sincerity pooling in his gaze.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, your hips stuttered as you spoke. You felt locked in, like your eyes could not look away from him even if your life depended on it. “I love you so much.” You repeated, the words freeing and lifting tons of weight from your shoulders. You were so happy to finally be able to say it, and now you never wanted to stop. You wanted to tell every person you stumbled across how fantastic he was and how much he meant to you, but a smaller, more selfish part of you wanted to keep him to yourself forever. He was yours and only yours, and you were the only one in the world lucky enough to have him.

“Cum for me, angel.” He said, his voice low and dripping with desire. He gave you the permission not because he was planning on denying you the pleasure, but because he feared he might die if you did not. He needed you like the starving need food, and he could not keep up with the demands of his heart. He needed everything from you all at once, and he needed it so much that he could not even think about anything else.

With his permission, you felt another wave of euphoria wash over you. This time, it was so intense that it felt like your whole body locked in reaction to it. You managed his name through the cries of pleasure, but it was barely noticeable. The only reason he picked up on it was because he spent every waking minute waiting for you to speak his name.

“That’s it, baby.” He said, gently guiding your lower half down towards him, still circling his finger around your clit. “Being such a good girl for me.” He hummed, pulling you into a kiss as soon as you were close enough to do so. You rode out your high with your lips locked with his, letting every moan fall into his mouth. He drank up the sound, each one pushing him closer to his own climax. When you relaxed against him, he slowly removed his hand from your cunt, bringing both hands to your hips to hold you in place. You were exhausted, and he could clearly see that. He decided not to push you, instead keeping you close to him and pulling your bottom lip between his teeth while he allowed you to calm down.

When your chest returned to the steady rise-and-fall rhythm, he started his own pace again. He held your hips in place, continuing the kiss as he fucked into you, working himself back up to his own orgasm. The sensation was intense, almost overwhelming as you tried to bargain with your own sensitivity from both orgasms. His pace was bruising, like always, but it was still intoxicating. You felt your stomach burn with pleasure once again, unbelieving of how fast you could feel the pressure of another orgasm begin to build. You had to break away from the kiss to catch your breath, the feeling becoming too much to bear. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of him inside you and the way he filled you up so perfectly.

“Again?” He asked, a cocky smirk on his lips as he tried to play down his own pleasures.

“A-ah, fuck, shut up!” You hissed, stumbling over your own words. He let out a low chuckle at your response, unbothered by your harsh tone.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I know how good I make you feel.” He said, tone dripping with pride. His ego took up space in the room even when you were fucking, and you hated to admit that you loved it. He continued on his pace, now pulling you down on him with every move of his hips. It was painful, but it was addicting. You wanted more, but you feared your body would not be able to handle it. A particularly high-pitched moan let him know that you were already there once again. His head fell back on the mattress, absolutely amazed by how attracted he was to you and how badly he affected you. “That’s it,” he encouraged “look at you.” He whispered to himself, his eyes burning into your face. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

The compliment sent you over the edge for the third time, the sweet words too much for you to handle. You clenched around him, pulling him in even further as you unravelled. Your hand moved upwards grasping at his shoulder, holding yourself upright as he continued fucking into you. The pleasure was so plentiful that it quickly became the only thing you could think of; nothing else mattered other than him and the way he made you feel.

Jake was not far behind you, his movements becoming sloppy and moans falling steadily from his own lips. You thought he was ridiculous for believing you were the best thing the world had to offer, especially considering he got to wake up and look at himself in the mirror every morning. Jake was the most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth, and he was the most precious gift you’d ever had the chance to receive. His grip on you tightened as he pulled you down on him, holding you to him as he spilled his release into you. He muttered your name amidst the chaos, almost like it was the only thing he knew how to speak.

Instead of pulling out, he rested inside of you for a moment, pulling your top half down closer so he could wrap his arms around you. You rested your cheek against his chest, closing your eyes in bliss as you soaked up the intimacy you had missed so much. His hand traced shapes into your back, the delicate touch sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to scatter across your skin. You ran your fingers through his hair, twisted the ends of the locks between your fingers as you listened to the soft thud of his heartbeat against his chest.

Love was filling the room, and this time, you both allowed yourselves to feel it. You welcomed it with open arms, inviting it in with a smile. It was in every touch and every breath, living in every word and shared glance. In that moment, life could not have been better. He moved his head down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He let his lips linger there for a moment, closing his eyes as he thanked every higher power for allowing you to enter his life.

“I love you.” He muttered, the words coming out muffled due to his mouth still resting on your head. You smiled, the kind that made your cheeks hurt and your mind forget what it felt like to frown.

“I love you.” You said, placing a kiss to his chest.

“You want to get cleaned up?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding against him. “Then we can go to bed.” His chest burned with excitement at the thought of falling asleep next to you again, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Carefully, he withdrew from you and you both stood. He stayed close to you as you walked to the bathroom, fearful that if you got too far away, he’d lose you forever. You made quick work and cleaning yourselves off, both eager to get into bed and hold each other until you fell asleep. As you walked back to your bedroom, he stopped and grabbed his bag he left in the kitchen, bringing it back with him. You grabbed one of his shirts from your drawer and threw it over your head. He slipped his boxers back on and waited for you to get into bed before joining you.

When you were both under the covers, he wasted little time turning on his side and pulling you closer to him. He settled his arm around your waist as you pressed your back against his chest. “Thank you for coming back, Jake.” You whispered, sleepiness laced in your tone.

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffed, also speaking quietly. “I want going to let you get away that easily.” You giggled at his words, snuggling in even closer. He tightened his arm around you, pulling you further into him.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” You said, more specific than the last time. He didn’t respond straight away, instead nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“I will fight for you until my very last breath, sweetheart.” He said, simply and seriously. He meant every word, and he did not want you to believe otherwise. “I love you, beautiful.”

“I love you, Jake.” You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, sleep calling to you and quickly taking over. In your last conscious moment, you felt the warmth of his love surrounding you, but a familiar dread settled in your stomach. You loved him, and he loved you, but was it really going to be so easy? After struggling to give yourselves to each other, you had a hard time believing that the rest of your life could be so simple. More than that, you still feared the sins the two of you committed just to be together in that moment. Jake was the love of your life, and that was without a doubt. What did worry you was all of the other conclusions you had drawn about him, specifically in regards to his devilish nature.

Was a mortal man laying beside you, or had you invited Satan himself into your home until the end of time?

According to Wikipedia, ‘the seven deadly sins, also known as the capital vices or cardinal sins, is a grouping and classification of vices within Christian, particularly Catholic, teachings. According to the standard list, they are pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth, which are contrary to the seven heavenly virtues.’ The seven deadly sins you had committed with ease and little regret. You fell into the trap without even realizing it, and from there, you could not stop the rapid progression of your godless acts. You had sinned so much that you had forgotten what a virtue was, but more than that, the seven deadliest sins held no weight compared to the sin that only you had been indulging in.

The world did not know about the most sacrilegious of sins because he was in your bed with his arm draped around you, sleeping soundly. You were the only person in the world who knew the extent of his evil. He was more powerful than lust, and more intense than greed. He was greener than envy and he was more vicious than wrath. Jake Kiszka was the eighth, undiscovered, most deadly sin of all. He was all of the vices combined, and more so, the only force in the world that could be strong enough to make you commit all of them in one go. He was the embodiment of evil, thus leaving no other way to describe him; he was the devil, and instead of fearing him, you felt lucky to be in his presence.

You had sinned so much that somewhere along your wicked warpath, you’d sprouted devil horns of your own. His power did not scare you, because you held the same one within your heart. The only match for him was you, and the two of you were tied together with barbed wire and chains, now. When you moved too fast, the ache from the tension spread to your bones, but his kiss satiated the pain. Most of the time, his love was so good that you did not feel the restraints around you at all.

So seven became eight, and the sin had finally come to an end. Yours and Jake’s souls were intertwined infinitely, tainted with the blackness of evil and scorching with the heat of flames. You had reached your deadly end, and you had always feared that once the devil had made home, there was no escaping him. Now, the devil was for certain to stay, and you knew deep in your heart that no amount of repent would rid you from the damage you caused and the guilt that came with it. As you fell asleep wrapped up in him, you thanked god for bringing him back to you whilst knowing he was the very thing god was trying to strike down.

A fear settled deep in the pit of your stomach, wondering if soon, god would realize your mistakes and make his first attempt at striking you down, too.

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