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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Happy Together : 13

In the Cage

Character(s): (deceptively) dark!Steve

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. It goes without (and with) saying that this is 18+.

Series Synopsis: The reader is stood up while awaiting a blind date, instead finding herself keeping company with the restaurant’s famous owner; Steve Rogers. After that night, she tries to forget her humiliation but she just can’t shake one thing about that night: him.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The reader is left in the dark.

Notes: So, our reader is in big shit and now she must suffer. And we must suffer with her. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I can’t wait for what’s still coming!

I also want to thank everyone for following this series and their enthusiasm about it. It’s just amazing and I am so astounded that so many feel the same excitement I do for Wednesdays. I really just can’t believe it. You guys are wonderful and I owe you so much!

I looked forward to hearing from you in the replies/reblogs/tags/asks. <3

The light stung your eyes. You had spent so long in darkness that when the bulb lit up and set ablaze the small room, you buried your head beneath the blanket. It had been only a day, maybe. If you were to guess by your hunger, it had been longer. You spent your first few hours on the floor in shock. When the pain in your ass and thighs became unbearable, you moved to the bed. You laid on your stomach and wept. Between your tears, there were spurts of sleep. Troubled and unkind.

It was another few hours before you heard the lock. The hatch opened and Steve’s shoes appeared on the top stair. He climbed down silently, a plastic tray in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He placed them on the floor beside your bed without speaking; without looking at you. You watched as he left; his feet heavy on the steps and the door shut with an echoing slam.

You stared down at the microwaved meal. It looked wholly unappetizing but you were starving. You gulped back the glass of water and took the plastic fork and dug into the overdone pasta. You didn’t care that the noodles were chewy or that the sauce was acidic. Your stomach clutched and clamped in relief. You refilled the glass from the sink and drained it once more.

You laid on your stomach as the food settled. Your ass was still raw. Just moving caused your flesh to sear. You fell asleep again. This time deeper. Without your hunger to keep you awake, you sank into a heavy slumber. Your head swirled with visions of Steve; his blue eyes furious, his hand around your throat. Your descent into the hidden room as you fought against the chains pulling you down. The last two days melded together in a distorted nightmare.

You awoke with a start. You lifted your head from the thin mattress. There was no pillow, only a thin blanket which did not offer much warmth in the underground chill. The plastic tray was gone, but the glass remained, a pitcher of water now beside it. You climbed out of the bed with a groan. Your head pounded and your body was cramped. You stretched and filled the glass; this time you only sipped.

You went to the sink and cranked it on. You removed your bra and panties and did your best to wash yourself. You turned your underwear inside out as you pulled them back on. Steve’s cum had turned the fabric crusty. As you twisted the faucet off, the light died and the room turned black. You felt your way through the dark back to the bed. You laid on your side and exhaled with a shudder. You hadn’t thought it could get worse but now you longed for the constricting dresses and tedious chores.

A sudden whir and rush of air funneled into the room. There was a small vent just above the bed. It blasted a chill into the room. You wrapped yourself in the blanket and shivered. The bluster did not relent. You curled up on the bed and hugged your knees to your chest. He was just torturing you now. You whined and closed your eyes. It hadn’t even been two days. You weren’t going to make it. You couldn’t.

You counted the days by the flicker of the light bulb. It would turn on and you would take note of another morning. What was this? Day ten? Eleven? Close enough. After the bulb flicked on, it would only be a few minutes before Steve arrived with your breakfast. Two hard boiled eggs and toast. A glass of milk, too. He came and went without a word; without a glance. Your time was left empty; listless. You would pace, hum, talk to the walls. Do anything to distract yourself from the endless void.

He would come again in the evening. Then, he left some microwaved dinner or a bowl of canned soup. Water for this meal. You would only have a little time before the pitch black marked the end of the day. When he returned in the morning, he would take the empty dishes and replace them with the next meal. Food became your only solace and yet there was not enough of it.

The nights were cold. The vent would rattle and the cold air would seep into the room; into your bones. You spent most of the night shaking beneath the thin wool. Sleep was not so easy anymore. You would stare into the black and listen. Sometimes you could hear him; walking around the bedroom or in the shower. The faint pitter of water made you think of the rain. The eerie calm of childhood thunderstorms. When you thought of the world outside, you couldn’t help but cry; often without meaning to. Your world had been set afloat in an ocean of tears.

That night, you didn’t eat the lukewarm soup. You stared into the depths and your stomach churned. You were hungry but nauseous. You couldn’t will yourself to eat even as you felt the familiar pangs. You dumped the chicken broth and noodles into the toilet and flushed. You sat back against the side of the bed, your legs sprawled along the floor. You hung your head and gulped. Your head ached from your spontaneous bursts of despair. You weren’t going to cry again.

The sparkle along your finger caught your eye. You held up your hand to the light; the pink diamond caught the yellow glare and twinkled. You scowled at the stone and ripped it past your knuckle. Your held it up and a surge of anger took you. That came as often as the sadness. These fits were harder to quell. There was no relief for them. You pondered tossing the band down the drain; you were tempted.

You shook your head and the fury slaked away as quickly as it had rose. You dropped the ring into the bowl and dragged yourself from the floor. He could have it back. You didn’t want it. You had never wanted it. You climbed into bed and only minutes after, the light bulb went black. Your timing was getting better. The air shuddered on and you cocooned yourself in the blanket.

You heard the creak of the bed above. The one you used to share with Steve. It was almost right above your own. It was quiet for a few minutes; you were tired even. Close to dozing. Then you heard the deep groan. It wasn’t unusual. The last few nights it had become a ritual. Steve made no effort to mute his voice. You knew what he was doing. You had heard him before in the shower, only these days, he did not say your name. That was how you knew he was mad. Really mad.

You clamped your hands over your ears and tried to tune it out. It made you feel so gross. Not because of what he was doing; he was human, but because what it made you want to do. So long below, alone, cold; you were desperate for warmth, for the touch of another. The noise of his pleasure made you ache. You didn’t want him, but you wanted someone. Anyone. And that was frightening.

What would happen in another week? Would you have any strength left to you? Would you survive this? With each day, you became more convinced that you would never see beyond this room again. That was when the darkness grew startling. It closed in on you; its fingers around your throat; a weight upon your chest. The beast clawing at your flesh.

Steve cried out and you were drawn back to your reality. Your thighs were pressed together around your hand. You bit your lip as you squeezed your legs together and the vent blew down on you frigidly. You whined tore your hand out from between your thighs. You didn’t even remember uncovering your ear. You couldn’t remember much of anything. There was only the light bulb, the empty trays, and stifling darkness.

The next morning, the light buzzed as it turned on. You turned so that your back was to the room and you heard the hatch unlock. Steve’s footsteps filled the room. You heard him set down a plate and gather up the bowl from the night before. The clink of your ring bounced against the glass. Silence. You felt a subtle shift on the mattress behind you but did not look. You couldn’t look at him anymore.

You sensed his eyes on you but still you did not turn around. You pulled the blanket higher and nestled closer to the wall. You were certain it was all in your head. He wasn’t looking at you. You were nothing to him anymore. You would perish in this place. Finally, his footsteps began again, the stairs groaned below him, and the hatch closed. You were alone. Again. Always.

You rolled over as the smell of bacon tickled your stomach. Bacon? He hadn’t brought anything more than boiled eggs or bland porridge. You salivated as you reached over the side of the bed and grabbed a strip. Something hard pressed into your cheek as you leaned into the mattress. You sat up and took a bite as you picked up the sharp object. It was the ring. Steve had left it just beside your head. He wouldn’t take it back. You were almost relieved.

You crammed the rest of the bacon in your mouth and slid down onto the floor. You shoved your finger through the ring until it was firmly in place. You took one of the eggs and began to peel the shell as you chewed the crispy bacon. You noticed then the glass of orange juice. Usually, he brought milk but today, he had been generous. You would thank him when he came again. It was only polite.

It was two days before you worked up the nerve. You were afraid to break the silence. Afraid you would anger him again. Or more. You didn’t blame him for being mad. You had stolen from him; destroyed his property; run away. That had been wrong. After everything he had done for you. Sat in just your soiled underwear, it became plain that you had not appreciated his kindness. The clothes, the records, the house...you had been ungrateful.

You were waiting on your dinner. Your legs hurt from pacing but when you sat, they shook in anticipation. You rinsed your plate and glass, and stacked them neatly with the cutlery. You were at the bottom of the steps when the hatch opened. You retreated in fright and backed up to the wall. You watched as Steve’s shoes appeared at the top of the stairs. As he descended, you admired his long legs, lean torso, and muscled arms. His golden hair was neatly combed and his blue eyes clung to the dishes in his hands.

You pressed yourself to the wall as he neared to set down your meal. As he bent down, you knelt and lifted the empty dishes. His jaw clenched as he looked at them and he stood as you mirrored his movements. You held them out and smiled. Or tried to. “Thank you, sweetheart,” You said breathily.

His blue eyes burned into your hands. You could tell he was struggling not to look at your face, but he couldn’t help as his gaze strayed to your chest, then your stomach, and below. He exhaled deeply and took the dishes without an answer. You were trembling as he turned his back to you and marched back up the stairs. The hatch closed and you let out a pathetic sob. You sank to your knees and stared down at the macaroni. You pushed away the plate as you sat back on your heels and slumped against the wall. You were going to die down here.

That night you couldn’t sleep. Really, any night, but you couldn’t even lay down. Even after the bulb had flickered to black, you had paced around the small space. You didn’t care that you stubbed your toe or bumped your knee. You couldn’t stay still. You had to get out. There was a panic in you which you had never felt before. The feeling when you know it’s the end and there’s no going back. An inevitability come to pass.

You fell against the stairs as your shins met the bottom step. You looked up at the hatch. Slivers of the light above limned its border. Slowly, carefully, with the thought of throwing yourself back down them, you climbed the stairs on your knees. You couldn’t hear Steve but you knew by the light that he was still awake. Like you. He was sleepless too. Was it for the same reason?

You tap on the door. No answer. You knocked again, louder. You heard the bed creak but no footsteps. You pressed your palm to the wood and sighed. “Steve,” You said. Your voice was thick as your throat closed with the threat of tears. You cleared your throat and forced yourself to speak louder. “Steve, sweetheart. Please…” You got as close to the hatch as you could. “I--I’m sorry.”

You waited. Silence. Everyday silence. It was driving you mad. You would rather death than this endless hush. You banged with your fist and exclaimed.

“You can’t leave me down here!” You pleaded. “Sweetheart, please. I can’t---I-I-I…” You sucked back a sob and hung your head. “I need you. Please.” You sniffed as tears trickled down your nose. “Don’t you love me, sweetheart?” You called to him. “I thought you loved me.” You leaned against the step and wiped your eyes. You didn’t hear anything. “...I love you.”

The hatch opened suddenly. You looked up into the blinding light as it silhouetted Steve’s broad shoulders. His golden hair shone like a beacon and his blue eyes burned fiercely as he looked down at you. You waited with baited breath for him to pull you out or push you back down.

tags will be added in a reblog

#happy together #stever rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve roger #captain america #series #fic #au #mcu #marvel #dark fic #dark!fic #darkverse #dark!verse

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taeyongtime · 6 years

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for the one i’ve always loved

genre: childhood friends to lovers!au ⎮ fluff

group & member: NCT’s Jaehyun

word count: 5.5k

a/n: inspired after watching the movie for ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ + please read the book series too and stamp “jaehyun channels big kavinsky energy” on your forehead

“I have never seen a dirtier pigsty than your room, Jung Jaehyun.”

The familiar soft chuckle you grew up listening to since age five echoes across the four walls and you roll your eyes at his nonchalance.

“Are you going to clear some space up for me to sit or what?”

“You can just move my clothes aside,” Jaehyun laughs as he turns back to his computer. “It’s not like you haven’t done it before whenever you come over.”

“Then I’m not coming in,” you huff, lean against the doorway with your arms crossed. “Not until you clean your room and there’s visible space for me to sit.”

“You’re quite a lot of work as usual,” he sighs, getting up from his chair and clearing the pile of dirty clothes on his bed into the hamper while reorganizing the clutter on his desk. “Happy?”

“If you had developed a readily aware sense of when to clean then we wouldn’t be having this type of conversation.”

“Hold it, I just happened to be lazy on this day of all days.”

You take a seat on his cleared bed and glance at the dimmed laptop on his desk.

“What are you doing?”

“I was watching a 19+ film before you interrupted me saying I needed to clean my room.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m kidding. I was checking my email because I haven’t checked it in a while.”

He turns around in his swivel chair. “What’s up?”

“My parents are currently traveling on a cruise ship for 2 months and didn’t think to tell me until this morning via a handwritten note taped onto the fridge.”

“Don’t laugh!” you whine at hearing his warm laughter. “It’s nothing to laugh about!”

“Let me guess, next you’re going to say something about crashing here for the next 2 months because you don’t want to be alone in that big house of yours.”

“…I hate you.”

One last chuckle and Jaehyun gets up to retrieve the sleeping bag he keeps in his closet for just an occasion, tossing the bundle at you as he teases about the injustice of sharing his space with a person he has known since youth when there was already not much room for two people when it could barely hold the things of one.

—

You and Jaehyun used to be next door neighbors before he moved out to an apartment closer downtown.

The Jungs had moved in next door three days after your eighth birthday, the dimpled boy waving at you while sitting on a cardboard box with ‘TOYS’ written in black marker on its side instantly becoming your closest friend before you could even wave your hand back. Seat partners throughout elementary school and the number one go-to whenever you wanted to hangout or simply as company, Jaehyun was always there for you when you needed him and it couldn’t come as a bigger surprise when he told you of his move out the day he turned eighteen. Used to being able to hop over in a matter of five minutes tops for ten straight years, you had sulked for a good week before talking to him again, getting hold of his new address once he settled in and immediately working out the fastest navigational route to his new place from yours for an impromptu housewarming party.

“Where are your parents headed this time?”

“Australia and New Zealand,” you answer, wiggling into the sleeping bag and turning to face his bed rather than the bookshelf on the wall. “They said it’s quite nice there and they have friends to catch up with anyway. Then they’re going a bit further up to spend a week in Indonesia and two days in Thailand before coming back here.”

Jaehyun’s nose scrunches while he pauses to take in the information and a sneeze follows.

“So… So tell me what made them think it was okay to leave you behind all by yourself?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. They think it’s fine since I’m an adult now but I can barely do anything when everything’s been done for me. Chores? Cooking my own meals? I already have a hard time deciding what to wear some days, how am I supposed to cook, clean, and manage my life when I’m practically no different from that of a baby?”

“Then it’s time to learn.” The bed creaks from the weight lifted off its frame and the light goes out, leaving you wide-eyed in the pitch black that was Jaehyun’s bedroom as he shuffles back to the warmth that was his covers.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Really? What if I end up burning the house down trying to microwave popcorn at 2am?”

“You’ll be fine,” he insists. “I’ll be your chaperone in the kitchen to make sure you don’t set off the fire alarm and wake my parents next door.”

“You’ll come over, then?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Smiling into the covers of the sleeping bag, you mumble “good night” and he does the same, silence drawing the curtains to a close as sleep overtakes your remaining perception of consciousness.

—

You return home early next morning, but not before Jaehyun made breakfast when he woke at 9:30 and you 10am. Stomach content and brain alert after eight hours of deep sleep, you unlock the door with a cheery hum and take in the large empty space that was the living room and the open kitchen, the set of stairs leading up to the second floor only increasing the dread of being by yourself with so much emptiness around. Not only were your parents away on their trip, but it didn’t even seem like the housekeeper was here—that much your parents still allowed you on what they called “the journey towards independence” by allowing the housekeeper to still come in to clean. You didn’t hear the sweeping of the broom in the dining area or even the harsh vacuum for the carpet upstairs, and while she mostly kept to herself while she worked, there was still an occasional check-in whenever she came in during the afternoon to tidy up. A part of your daily routine was clearly missing today as you close the door and head upstairs to change into a set of comfortable clothes rather than the top and bottom you had gone out in.

“Where’s my pen?”

You dig around the container of pens on your desk and find the one you’re looking for, the tip still smeared in ink from yesterday’s leakage. Pen ready, you open the first drawer and reach all the way towards the back, taking out the round pink box nestled behind volumes of old schoolbooks and popping off the lid to reveal four envelopes within—three sky blue and one a dusty rose color. Lifting the flap to reach at the letter inside each one, you unfold the creased papers and scan over each one, deeming them fine as they are until you reach the letter from the pink envelope. Bringing the pen close to the next space on the line, you start writing as you see fit, ink slightly smudging the edge of your pinky as your hand travels down the page.

“And… done.”

Clicking the pen to retract the tip, you note your spot in the letter and refold the worn crease marks from constant instances of unfolding and refolding. It would probably be best if you transferred everything to a fresh sheet for easier reading, but there was always more to add for this specific letter. There was a reason why this letter was in a separate color than the three sky blue envelopes, its recipient and intention on a whole different level than the other three.

Back in the box your letters go and you return them to their usual hiding place, closing the drawer shut and making your way to bed, wrapping your body up in the warm covers as you close your eyes into a light sleep. Writing a letter is truly something special to retain in this era of technology and everything fast-paced, the notion of snail mail holding a quaint inkling of fondness in your heart. Fondness of the writer at the thought of the sealed envelope making its way towards the intended recipient in due time and the surprise of the recipient at receiving a heartfelt message in the mailbox without prior notice.

But it’s not like you will ever send all the letters you’ve written. Especially not when the pink envelope contained a love letter of all things.

—

Jaehyun, as previously promised, comes over at six in the evening after dinner with his parents to oversee your first attempt at cooking a meal for yourself and nearly falls to the floor at the scope of the mess that was your cooking skills.

“What the hell happened here?”

“I told you, I can’t cook!” you yell, jumping back at the drops of oil bouncing out of the pan. “Can you taste the spaghetti and see if it’s cooked? I don’t know what’s the right texture to be labeled as ‘chewy but not too firm’.”

“… Stand aside.”

“I have to do this myself, Jaehyun. Just… I don’t know, walk me through it.”

Fifteen minutes later you manage to produce a plate of spaghetti that didn’t look like pig slop and didn’t taste that bad either, but definitely not as good as it could’ve been as you bite down on a strand of what seemed to be still slightly undercooked noodle.

“Passing for a first timer,” your best friend comments. “But spaghetti is one of the easiest dishes to make, so…”

“Okay, we get it, Master Chef, sit your ass down already.”

“I deserve an ice cream right?” he begins, already opening the freezer while you continue eating your dinner. “After saving your kitchen from being burnt down?”

You place the tomato-stained plate and fork into the sink after you finished eating.

“Only if you wash the dishes first.”

“Deal.”

He ends up taking two ice cream bars rather than just the one he was promised, irking you to no end as you slap his hand off the refrigerator the moment it touches the space on the bottom to pull it open.

“You’re about to clear out my entire fridge, you pig.”

“Ouch. So mean.”

Edging him out of the kitchen to wash the dishes yourself, you jump onto the couch after putting them in the dish rack to dry and stare up at the ceiling, not knowing how you were going to survive on your own for the next two months.

“The semester starts tomorrow,” Jaehyun begins. “Nervous?”

“Actually, no,” you tell him truthfully. “Surprising, I know.”

“It’s good that you aren’t nervous. New year, new you.”

A playful flick at his shoulder for the attempt to lighten the mood and he gets up, brushing at his jeans.

“I’d better go. It’s late and I have an early start tomorrow.”

“You can always stay over at your parents’ place, you know. That’s your home too.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “Yeah, but my backpack and stuff is back at my apartment.

“Can I use your bathroom before I go, though?”

“Use the one upstairs,” you tell him as he makes his way towards the bathroom by the kitchen. “The sink in that one’s kinda weird.”

“Will do.”

—

“Hey, you’re Y/N right?”

You lift your head up, having just barely set foot out of the lecture hall for 10am biology at the sight of the boy standing before you, lips pursed and arms crossed. He didn’t look too happy, and you sure hope you hadn’t done anything wrong when you nod and ask what business he had with you so early in the day.

“I’m Doyoung. We had an Intro to Statistics class together last semester.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you nod again. “You’d always sit in the same row as me.”

“Can you explain what you mean by ‘bigheaded prick’ in this letter?”

He holds up a blue envelope and your blood practically runs cold at the sight of the yellow happy face sticker on the seal, edge curled upwards from the envelope being opened to access the letter inside.

“How… How did you get that?”

“Found it in between my calculus homework,” Doyoung says in a clipped tone. “Didn’t know I had my very own anti-fan until now.”

You swallow at the memory of angry scribbles from last semester’s statistics class, complaining on paper about how Doyoung always asked so many questions during discussion and extending class time past the designated time slot because he always had something else needing an answer right after the first question was answered by the TA. How he was smart but needed an ego check, a know-it-all who couldn’t see past the raised nose bridge that was always cast down upon others… not good. Not good at all.

“I’m really sorry I said those things about you,” you apologize with a low bow. “I really… didn’t mean it.”

“I’m not sure you’re sincere about the apology at all.”

Your head dips even lower until you can feel the hunch in your back.

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

Murmurs of curiosity begin to buzz around your hunched figure, Doyoung luckily having the decency to forgive you quickly before a crowd began to gather.

“Yeah, fine, you’re forgiven.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to keep this, by the way.”

You recoil in surprise and he nods in the affirmative. “So I’ll know what people are talking about when they start talking behind my back.”

“Doyoung, can I please get my letter back?” you ask desperately. “It’s… private.”

“Not anymore.” He tucks the blue envelope into his backpack and shoots you a gummy smile.

“See ya.”

You wave your hand weakly and sigh, fear slowly rolling in when you realize that if one of your letters had already gotten to its recipient, the other blue envelopes probably would be in the hands of their readers also.

“Oh no,” you gasp, pulling at your hair. “Not… Not the pink one too?”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Spooked at the sudden question, you whip your head around and nearly collide into Jaehyun; he extends a hand for you to help steady yourself from falling.

“Something wrong?”

“I…” You open and close your mouth, not knowing how to best phrase the situation. “Uh… did you…. You remember that one time you came over to my house?”

“I’ve been over to your house so many times,” he laughs. “Which time?”

“Be…Before the semester started,” you blurt out. “Do… Do you remember seeing a, uh, pink box? When you were over?”

“Nope.”

His answer only further sinks the stone in your churning stomach and you shake your head, hands pressed against your temples.

“This is bad.”

Jaehyun frowns. “What’s up?”

“N-Nothing. I… I gotta go.” You hurriedly wave and leave without another word, feet frantically taking you away as your brain races to backtrack when you’d last seen the box of letters. One blue envelope was already out, and there was no call for where the other letters would be.

Hell, there was even a chance that he could’ve seen the pink one but was just keeping quiet for your sake.

—

News of the second letter came in the worst way possible, the jolly recipient of the second blue envelope broadcasting his encounter with the letter over the university’s radio station for all to hear late in the night. While gratefully given anonymity on the DJ’s behalf, his consistent rambling on your notation of his friendliness and bright personality on paper was enough to keep you from storming out to the radio station yourself to tell him to shut the hell up, not daring to leave the library when you still had to finish the second half of a 5-page essay due by 9am tomorrow. Plugging in your earbuds, you shift your focus back to your laptop and tune out the radio, which luckily switches to a new ballad song of one of the currently popular artists and not more talk about any handwritten letters.

It is nearly 2am before you finally submit the assignment, and on your way out of the library you bump into none other than Johnny Seo himself, the man in question who ran the radio station with an entire five minutes today on receiving a lovely handwritten letter. Unsure if he knew who you were, you quickly turn tail to avoid making conversation, but the exclamation for you to wait stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Sorry,” he apologizes when you turn around to face him. “I got the wrong person.”

“N-No problem.”

Silently whispering thanks to the heavens for letting you slide by, your triumph is short-lived at the sound of footsteps from behind, the frown on Johnny’s face easing into a slow smile as he shakes his head knowingly at having missed the obvious.

“You’re Jaehyun’s friend. We met a while ago, yeah?”

“Well, Jaehyun’s very popular across campus, so I’m not surprised if you don’t remem—”

“And you wrote this.” He holds up the blue envelope. “It’s addressed to me.”

You debate denying but find no point in doing so when he had already indirectly exposed your letter fiasco to the entire student body.

“Yeah, I wrote it.”

“It’s a very nice letter.” He takes out the slip of paper tucked inside and scans the contents. “I didn’t know I had such a positive presence in your life.”

A flush of red creeps onto your cheeks and you duck your head down, not knowing how to respond.

“Well… you’re always so encouraging to your radio listeners and just… an overall cool person.”

“May I keep this? This is the first fan letter I’ve ever received.”

“I… I’d rather…”

The eager look on his face too much to disagree upon, you find yourself nodding ever so slowly while sighing internally at having already agreed to give away two of your prized letters.

“Okay. You can keep it.”

“Great! I’ll walk you home, if it’s fine with you?”

“Y-You don’t have to.”

“Please.” He offers an arm. “I insist.”

Once at your front door, you receive quite the pleasant surprise when Jaehyun’s mouth drops at seeing you and Johnny together.

“Hello.”

“Your best friend is cute,” Johnny smiles, wiggling his fingers to a wave before pushing you towards Jaehyun. “Take good care of her.”

“Will do,” Jaehyun laughs, beckoning for your house keys and opening the door to let you in first. “Later, Johnny.”

“Why are you here?” you ask your best friend curiously.

“Thought to ask you to go get food with me but then you didn’t show up until now.”

“How long were you waiting?”

“Uh…. Maybe four hours?”

Your eyes widen at the thought of Jaehyun waiting four hours outside your doorstep and punch him on the shoulder.

“Why didn’t you message me earlier?”

“I did,” he points out. “But you probably were too busy to reply.”

“God, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You usher him inside and drop your things down. “I was… preoccupied.”

He nods in understanding and sits down on the couch.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Um… not really.” Even though he was your best friend, it wasn’t in your best interest to inform him about your missing letters. The slips of papers were your most prized possessions, hidden feelings recorded down in ink that you didn’t have the courage to reveal in person. Not that they were all love-related, with Doyoung’s being a vent about the difficulties of his character and Johnny’s an admiration of his bright personality and wanting to become his friend, but there did remain two letters harboring romantic interest—one blue one for a tiny crush and the pink one that could change everything if not handled the way you had intended for things to go.

“I just want you to know that I’m here for you,” he says with a smile. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I…” A heavy sigh falls through your lips. “Okay. Here’s what happened.”

❀

“Hey, hey, hey.”

“Oh, hi Johnny.”

An enthusiastic hand claps your back. “So I heard there’s still one more blue letter circulating around.”

You roll your eyes. “Did Jaehyun tell you?”

“A little bird tweeted it out,” he grins. “His name could be Jung Jaehyun, I’m not sure.

“Need help finding the third one? I can send out word through the radio.”

“That is the last thing I need right now, Johnny.”

He shrugs. “Just a thought.”

“I don’t even know how they got out in the first place,” you fret. “I keep them closely hidden at home, there’s simply no way—”

“Well, I got mine in Physics. Jaehyun was looking through my notes and noticed there was a blue envelope slipped inside between the pages.”

“Jaehyun found it?”

“Yeah.” He suddenly reaches into his back pocket and stares at his buzzing phone.

“Sorry, I have to go. See you around?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good luck with the last one.”

“There’s actually one more, but…”

Your words trail off as Johnny takes his leave, the gears in your brain slowly trying to piece together Jaehyun’s role in the situation of your missing letters.

“Did Doyoung find his through Jae, too?”

Before you can look through your phone for Doyoung’s number, a quiet cough sounds from behind and you turn around to face the recipient of your final blue enveloped letter.

“Are you the one who wrote this letter?”

—

The third letter was one that you put quite an amount of time into, but you didn’t know why you were so nervous as your fingers tightened along the edges of the books you were carrying in your arms. Not that your feelings were anything more than a tiny crush upon a guy who had been kind enough to direct you to an 8am class last semester when you didn’t know where to find the building it was located in.

Taeyong was only being nice then, but it didn't stop you from casting side glances at him when you found out he was in the same major and shared most of your classes with you.

“I…” You blubber. “I, uh… well…”

“Oh, hey, Taeyong.”

An arm slinks around your shoulder and you gulp as you greet your best friend, nudging at his side and casting glares at the blue envelope in Taeyong’s hand. Hopefully he got the hint that you needed to get away from Taeyong so you didn’t need to address the topic of the letter.

“Jaehyun, I need to go study,” you blurt out, your brain working overdrive to churn out a reasonable excuse of leave. “We made plans to go to the library together, remember?”

“Right,” he chimes after, glancing at the blue letter in Taeyong’s hand. “Catch you later, Taeyong?”

“Um, I was hoping to ask Y/N about—”

“Gotta go, bye Taeyong!”

You pull Jaehyun after you and make it to the library entrance before stopping and turning around to face him.

“Thank goodness you showed up in time,” you wheeze, adjusting your grip on your books as you take much-needed breaths of air. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to say about the letter.”

“Actually, I was specifically looking for you,” Jaehyun says with a shrug. “It wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Oh, okay. What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, about the letters…”

You hear an exclamation of your name just as Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak and drop your books onto the ground at the sight of Doyoung hurrying over towards you and Jaehyun.

“Are you busy?” he demands.

“No…”

“Then follow me, this is important.”

You glance at Jaehyun and he gestures for you to go.

“I’ll wait for you at the biology hall.”

“Yeah, sure.”

It turns out that the important thing Doyoung had dragged you aside for was a review session for his current Statistics class, one that you had a different professor for. Apparently the review slides weren’t going to be posted online and he had entered the classroom fifteen minutes late, thus the proposal for you to transcribe the first half of the slides onto paper while he paid attention to the TA reviewing the second half of the powerpoint for the sake of the fifteen minutes he’d lost getting there after the start time and the five minutes it had taken to pick you up. Maximizing efficiency by utilizing all available resources, he had said.

“I’m missing a few points,” you tell him as students begin to file out of the classroom after the two-hour session comes to an end. “This is how much I managed to get down though.”

He skims over your notes and nods.

“It’s good enough. The TA said this upcoming exam is focusing more on the newer material anyway.”

“Then why did you drag me here when I was in the middle of something with Jaehyun?”

“You owe me from the letter.”

“I remember receiving forgiveness for calling you a prick,” you scowl. “What the hell?”

“Now you’re forgiven,” he corrects you. “Thanks for coming here on such short notice.”

“… I don’t regret what I wrote in your letter.”

It was already dark out by the time you leave, hurrying over to where Jaehyun had said he’d be waiting. You didn't think it would take this long and had forgotten to text him to not wait for you during the whirlwind that was statistical facts and definitions demanding for your attention.

“You made it.” The figure sitting on the bench outside the biology lecture hall stands up and smiles in relief. “I was afraid you’d forgotten.”

“No, it…. it ran longer than I expected. Sorry for not letting you know ahead of time.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I would’ve waited for you to show up regardless.”

“Dinner’s on me for having you wait,” you offer. “Cool?”

“Oh, definitely.”

—

Jaehyun never brought up the topic of the letters after you’d grabbed dinner that night, and you receive the surprise of your life when Taeyong approaches your table in the library one Friday afternoon before your 3pm chemistry lecture.

“May I sit?”

“Y-Y-Yes.” You hurriedly move your things to make space and he smiles as he sits down.

“Sorry it’s so… messy.”

“About the letter addressed to me…” he begins without missing a beat.

You brace yourself for his reply, closing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to look at him. The imagery of him rejecting you in the library and calling you a creep for staring at him in class was so embarrassing to even think about that—

“I think you’re a very nice person, Y/N.”

One eye slightly opens and the other gradually follows.

“Me? Nice?”

Taeyong nods and smiles. “I didn’t know we had so many classes together either. If I had known, we could’ve been study buddies so I wouldn’t need to study all by myself last year.”

A nervous laugh escapes from your lips and you clap your hands around your mouth, ducking to avoid the stares and curious turns of heads from other tables.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I share the same feelings, but your letter still means a lot to me.”

“I understand,” you whisper back, genuinely grateful that this hadn’t gone as badly as predicted. “Um, so this means you don’t mind exchanging numbers so we can study together right? You’re in like, three of my classes this semester.”

Warm chuckles bubble up in your corner and he inputs his contact information into your phone, dialing his own number from your device so he had a record of your phone number as well.

“It’s no problem at all.”

You grab your phone back after he’s finished and nod in thanks.

“Actually,” he breaks in. “I do have one more thing to give you.”

“Oh?”

A pink envelope is placed on the middle of your notes and your eyes widen.

“I won’t say who I got it from,” Taeyong says slowly. “I was only told to deliver this.”

“But.. you didn’t…”

He leaves without another word and you hesitantly peel the flap of the envelope open, heart caught in your throat as you take out the letter inside and read the only line written on the center of the paper.

❀

Maybe deep down you’d already known it would be him.

The minutes tick by as you sit outside of the library, waiting for him to show up while the campus slowly empties out with the completion of classes and anticipation for the weekend. The numbers of people walking by dwindle down and you sit up when you spot the lone figure heading your way when most passerby walked the opposite direction.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun apologizes, sweat glistening at his forehead as he offers a sheepish smile. “I didn’t know my meeting would run this late.”

“It’s fine.” You get up from the bench and smile. “I know you would’ve done the same for me.”

His signature dimple makes its way onto his face and you take out the pink envelope Taeyong had given to you earlier.

“So.”

“So,” he echoes. “What’s with the letter?”

“Where’s the original one? The one I had in here written about you?”

Feigned innocence twinkles in his eyes as he shuffles his feet, avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, I can recognize your handwriting like my own. I know you have it with you somewhere.”

He reaches into his backpack, pulling out a sheet of folded paper that was creased all around the edges.

“I was debating framing this up so I can stare at it first thing when I wake up in the morning.”

“Gross.”

“Can’t be more gross than the fact that you never told me in all the years we’ve known each other that you love me.”

Embarrassment rolling off your shoulders in waves, you start to walk and a second set of footsteps follow suit.

“Hey, it’s true that you love me, right?”

“I don’t know,” you dismiss. “It’s cold out and I’d like to get home before it gets dark out and the wind picks up.”

The lax pace from behind breaks into a run and you stop in your tracks when a pair of hands grab your wrists together, sneaking around your waist to pull you into a hug.

“Let me go, Jaehyun.”

“Did you think I’ll say no when I’ve pretty much felt the same about you all this time?”

The gentle look in his eyes softens even more and he takes off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

“Here, it’s getting a bit cold.”

“Well,” you huff indignantly, pressing down the feeling of bliss fluttering in your stomach. “If you love me too, then why did you send out my other letters? Those were private, you know.”

“I thought… they looked ready to be sent, so I just dropped them off anyway. They were all signed off and everything.”

He winces at the impending groan from your end and moves his arm up, resting his hand on your shoulder in apology.

“Are you… mad at me for doing it?”

“It’s already been done, so there’s nothing more I can do about it,” you sigh. “But at least they all know how I feel and I can get some form of closure with my feelings.”

“Then…” His eyes scan your face, nervous as he bites his lips. “Then this also means you accept my apology… right?”

You eye him with a knowing glance and slowly break out the smile you’d been suppressing, bubbles of laughter echoing in the darkened night sky.

“What’s so funny?” he frowns.

“The look of fear on your face,” you giggle, “Priceless!”

Realizing you’d pulled a fast one on him, he pulls the jacket off your shoulders and you gasp in the cold of the night, the thin green hoodie on your back not nearly providing enough warmth as Jaehyun’s puffed one.

“Give it back, I’m cold!”

“Nope.”

“I’m cold!” you shriek, shoulders hunched at the wind nipping behind your exposed neck. “Give it back or I’m breaking up with you!”

“You’re breaking up with me already?” He offers his jacket just out of reach for your arm span. “Right when I was going to re-offer my jacket?”

“You never even answered me,” you refute as you cross your arms to retain whatever body heat that hasn’t escaped yet. “So I don’t know, maybe you’re breaking up with me, not the other way around.”

The padded layer re-drapes itself onto your shoulders and you hurriedly fit your arms inside the sleeves.

“What’s your final answer, Jung Jaehyun?”

“I’ve already read your letter and told you I’m not going to say no, what more do you want?”

Displeased at the lack of clarity, you stuff your hands into the jacket pockets and start to walk, humming a quiet tune that only increases in volume as another hand slips into the right pocket to intertwine its fingers with your own.

“Your hand is warm,” you mumble without looking at him. “Aren’t you cold without your jacket?”

“No,” he answers, tightening his hold on your hand while matching his pace with yours. “I’m warm just by being with you.”

#nct #jaehyun #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #nct fanfic #nct fluff #tatbilb!au #its been too long since i last wrote my mojo is kinda off i feel :/

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daydreamindollie · 5 years

Text

p.jm | The Siren and The Mermaid

Fragments Series: Just another incomplete written piece/plan/idea - not edited, not proofread, just raw writing w/ my notes

|| opposites attract oneshot series ||

A/N: Jimin’s one was the one I kept working at and I had to keep redoing scene one but when I finally got something that I liked, I got distracted with school and the main series I was already working on.

WARNING: these may contain some of my notes, they will be indented and in italics so you can distinguish them from the writing.

Also, this may contain some prejudicial views and conflicts, if you no like, you no read, okie? okie! x

✚ ✚ ✚

[SCRAP - scene 1, 1st draft] If you think about the multitudinous amount of stories based on land (Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast, the lot), and adore the magic that ironically makes the stories all the more believable and charming then the truest story of a mermaid and her siren shall be my first introduction to you of the infinite amount of enchanting tales that are continually made in the beautiful underwater world - their many depths still unexpected, even by the diverse amount of sea-life in it.

All sea folk that are told this story are firstly shocked at how a mermaid and siren dare become romantically attracted but the more it is told, the more favourable it becomes like mature, burgundy wine. [SCRAP - scene 1, 1st draft]

[SCENE 1, 2nd Draft - SCRAP LATER - KEEP SNIPPETS???]

Every day has the same routine for you.

It always starts off early, even before the crabs were awake and applauding their snappers for the usual wake-up call to ordinary merfolk, your sky would be deprived of the glistening, wavering spotlights - a spectacle gifted to us by Neptune’s cousin of the land - the sea would be biting to your skin with a frigid chill, instead, there would be weak fluorescent starfish crawling back beneath stray corals for the morning beneath you.

Your parents are farmers, prospering ones that provided the majority of the produce consumed by merfolk, as a result, it was a requisite that you helped out around the many farms they owned. There was a diverse culture of seaweed and coral that needed to be supervised and cultivated at the right time.

To be fair, your parents had allowed you to allocate yourself whichever farm you’d prefer to supervise the growth of and nurture, a choice you took full advantage of and had you overseeing the peach corals, primarily because they were your favourite coral to eat and your parents had promised that you’d be able to have some of the coral or seaweed that you’d be maintaining. It was a win-win situation for you.

Being sixteen, this practice and standard was definitely an abnormality to normal merfolk your age but it was something you strangely preferred. It’s delusional for you to say that it’s because you don’t get along with others or are just anti-social but it’s the opposite; your discomfort around others definitely runs deeper in meaning than simply that. Fortunately, your parents know and understand, hence why they encourage your disassociation with others. All of you are on board the idea that you’d simply learn everything there is to know about farming every edible coral and seaweed before taking over for your parents so that they’re able to just rest and survey your decisions when it becomes your time to take responsibility.

Finally arriving at the coral farm, you smile softly and give your limbs another waking stretch before you swim forward and thank the jellyfish that light up the night for the corals’s optimum growth.

“You can go home and rest now, thank you so much once again.” you whisper, gesturing with your hands that they should hurry along home to rest as a select few take a moment to affectionately nuzzle your outstretched palm before making their way home, “I’ll see you tonight…” you breathe, voice still soft so that they maintain good and tired for a long sleep before returning for the tonight’s shift. Their labour was a beneficial one for both sides, they provide light for the corals to grow and prosper, but they also protect them by consuming prey that can cause potential harm to them - they help grow and protect the corals at night, getting fed whilst doing so.

Facing the coral, you do your regular survey of their condition and once satisfied, go about your daily chores for their health as you begin to hum, which eventually turns into a random song of random lyrics, expressing your most jutting emotion as for that moment in time. Usually it would be a comedic one describing your tiredness, making fun of your daily life and your own goofy traits. It was always the perfect way to start your day (other than your mother’s special breakfast platter) as it always set you up for the best moods to finish your chores.

Another atypical trait of yours is that you like to sing.

Most mermaids think that it’s a sin and that only Sirens dare to sing for seduction. Their further reasoning was that they didn’t need beautiful voices to attract any attention, they already have their beauty, Sirens weren’t as beautiful as mermaids so they needed their alluring voices to draw in prey and eat. You never got that odd rationality; it’s so much fun to sing and hum, especially when you need a distraction to help tiresome chores drag by quicker.

If it weren’t for singing, you’d have nothing to entertain you during all tedious tasks.

It really would be a problem if anybody else found out, however, you can only imagine what they’d do if they found out a mermaid was capable of singing as seductively as a Siren. There still wasn’t an issue in your mind however; you’re actually quite proud of how prepossessing your voice had become over many years of practice and you’d happily sing to your heart’s content but for your parents and the potentially bad reputation they could get from having an even more unwonted daughter was against your morals.

For your parents, you’d do anything because they did everything - even making themselves look bad - just so that you were kept out of harm’s way.

Looking out onto the many organised clusters of coral in the shallow area, you begin to sing an entirely new song that you had written and composed all by yourself, thinking about how, if you had never been ostracised the way you were, then would you still have accomplished something so peculiar for your kind? Something peculiar but something you were quite proud of, nonetheless.

With a shake of your head, you vanquish the thoughts and continue about your daily tasks. It wasn’t as if you were unhappy so why should you contemplate such a thing?

[SCENE 1, 2nd Draft - SCRAP LATER - KEEP SNIPPETS???]

✚ ✚ ✚

It was hard being the outcast. Nobody liked you, nobody cared for you, nobody had your back, not that they would always be there if Jimin really was a true siren, after all, it wasn’t in their nature to be so compassionate.

Jimin wishes they would be though, he wishes and wishes and wishes but knows that nothing will come of it. Abandoned at the age of five, he had to live life surviving like weak prey amongst the monsters that were is own society, his own kind. They never liked him and hissed that his parents were right to desert him the instant they knew he wasn’t a true siren. Siren beauty was measured differently compared to that of mermaids, Jimin - in mermaid standards - even at five years old, was reaching for gold but in siren principles, he was similar to garbage. He also didn’t have a captivating voice to lure in prey because, unlike mermaids who ate corals and seaweed, sirens could ONLY consume sea creature flesh, rivalling sharks on the food chain, those that were adventurous enough devoured human flesh once drowning them. The same way Sirens frowned on Jimin for being so ugly and not having the beautiful voice to compensate, Jimin frowned on them for daring to tamper with the upper world. It just seemed so wrong to him and human flesh, he heard wasn’t even that delicious (he’s heard), it was fatty and chewy, those that have experienced luring them in, however, have stated that humans give the most satisfying experience of seducing. Sirens seem to just live off of the feeling that seducing such expressive creatures and leading them to their deaths, most wouldn’t even eat their flesh and just drown them.

Jimin, although ostracised by his appearance, was happy to have it as it allowed him to entice little prey fish to draw near and give him a good meal. He always felt guilty afterwards but it was his only way of living. He’s tried eating coral and seaweed, however, and was hopeful that one day he’d be able to fully adjust to the taste and texture so that he wouldn’t feel so ashamed. It was a horrible, feeling to be shameful.

Today, he had been able to snag a peach coloured coral that came adrift from the mermaid’s territory and was quick to devour it. The taste was nothing like he’d ever tasted before but that difference was obvious as the coral he found in the lacking land for sirens was dull and somewhat tasteless, if he could eat coral like this everyday, then he’s sure he’d be able to adjust to the diet smoother and at a quicker pace.

“Well, look at this!” a melodious voice taunted, “the UGLY siren with no voice eating like a mermaid!”

Jimin stayed turned away, a grip of fear constricting his movement but he know who it was, the golden siren of his age, Jungkook.

“You look like a mermaid, act like a mermaid and even eat like a mermaid.” grey sand kicked into the air around him as Jungkook flew to lean into his face, “Why don’t you just become one?” he grinned with sharpened teeth, “I’ll even help you!”, Jimin knew that there was evil intent behind his words but his body still wasn’t able to respond to his panicking thoughts. “First, you need to NOT be so pale. I have a cure for that,” raising a hand, he clawed for him and laughed at the marks that pinkened his torso. “Mermaids like pretty colours too right? Purple is a pretty colour,” drawing his powerful arm back, fist clenched and eyes crazed, Jungkook landed a hard hit into Jimin’s sharp-cornered jaw and propelled him backwards.

The abuse continued, Jimin’s helpless cries never reaching anyone’s ears as he only continued to take the pain. Time passed, he couldn’t accurately calculate how much but it felt like an eternity - he was sure that he had been knocked out because once he opened his eyes again, there wasn’t a menacing figure with malicious intent hovering above him, laughing at the torment he was delivering. Upon finally getting himself together, despite the blood, despite the sweat, despite the tears, with every last bit of energy left in his frail body, Jimin swam away in a whirlwind of despairing emotions. There was no destination planned out for him and he didn’t care all he knew was that he had to leave the only place he’s ever known if he truly valued his life.

He had to get awayawayaway. There was nothing for him living with other sirens, at least he’ll die without much suffering if he was apart from those responsible for his tribulation. His vision blurred and body pounding with the ghost of Jungkook’s violent blows, Jimin hurried on until he found refuge inside a tall tower of boulders that already hosted for sprouting flora that were foreign to Jimin but that didn’t matter for the moment. Resting was his top priority.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

There were certain things you had to be to be considered a mermaid. You had to be: naturally beautiful, good natured, friendly to all sea creatures, never eat other sea creatures and never sing.

These attributes were ridiculous because you were a mermaid but…you were none of those things. That made you wonder, however, was it those principles being ridiculous or was it you? In your mind, you were beginning to think that it was you but you know at heart that you are a mermaid. Your parents are so that made you a mermaid too, right? They believe so too, they definitely know that you’re a mermaid.

“Why am I not beautiful then?” you had asked your mother, tears glossing your precious, doe eyes.

“Who told you that?” avoiding her searching eyes and prying question, you nibbled your bottom lip as you didn’t want to reveal that the other mer-children had pointed sharp-ended insults at you daily. “You’re very beautiful my little pearl.” it was always her soft, kind smile that you lifted your eyes up to.

Your mother was always the one to whisper words of comfort amidst your insecurities as she held you in a homely embrace, whilst your father conveyed his consolation through a tender stare and a condoling touch on your shoulder. It wasn’t as direct as your mother’s reassurance but you appreciated him just as much because it was clear that he cared for you just as much as your mother did.

It was no accident when you had your first encounter with true sirens, sirens with the faces of angels. It was abnormal for sirens to have such angelic faces because the reason they sang so beautifully was because they had to have some way of alluring their prey despite having hideous complexions. You knew, however, deep down, the reason behind why they appeared so prepossessing. The sirens that shoved at you, the sirens that coerced you, the same sirens that spat shockingly vile abuse at you…were mermaids.

In your eyes, however, they were every bit a siren should be. They weren’t friendly at all, they were belittling and they weren’t beautiful as their disgust crumpled their faces into deformed unpleasant expressions.

“They were so mean to me mama!” you criedcriedcried.

All you could remember about that day was everything. Every insult was engraved into your mind like the carving of one’s name on stone, permanently etched into the body of rock in hopes of forever commemorating the memory of a lost loved one. Not even the soft pink embrace of your mother could erase the incident from your gallery of memories, nor the frightening air that engulfed your father’s body when attempting to place punishment upon those that did harm to you, that is, before your mother pulled him back as the voice of reason. More harm than necessary can never do good.

“It’s going to be okay baby…” she mumbled sweetly, her solicitous pats gradually calming your quivering breath and trembling body. Your tail was curled into her stomach, causing her to coo in admiration of the coral peach colour that many mermaids rarely develop but it was only because you ate the peach coral produce of the farm so much that the scales of your tail adapted to suit your favourite snack. “You will always be my beautiful peach pearl.”

Your mother only ever spoke assurance for your concern of all physical attributes you could never seem to meet but never on your singing ability. It was your secret. If you had told her then that would have been her main concern; it wasn’t normal for a mermaid to be dull in appearance but it was even more unusual for a mermaid to sing as singing was strictly only for sirens. It was considered a sin to sing, and an even greater sin to sing as well as a siren, if not, better. Provided that there’s a chance other menfolk could hear your singing, you begged your parents to work on their farm and be able to inherit it when you were old enough, hence why your social life was non-existent, your parents agreed and you’re sad to say that your last encounter with other merfolk your age was from the traumatising one of your childhood.

Despite your lack of a social life, you were very content, more than, even. It’s peaceful living the way that you were currently and life was easy for you. There was no stress or any complications because that only came with interacting with other menfolk that have complex emotions that are unpredictable. Deep down, there was that secret desire, however, where you wanted to have a friend that you can talk to rather than the expanse of peach coral stretching before your eyes in the shallow waters of the farm.

Peach corals were your favourite type of coral so you were eager to manage their sector in your parents’s farm and, to cure your loneliness, rather than singing, you would find yourself talking to the peach corals lined up before you. Sometimes, it is what makes your realise that you were possibly going crazy from solitude. Funnily enough, this thought process was what led to you swimming far away and discovering a tall tower of rock that has become your second home. Certainly, you never stayed there too long because of your duties but you were thrilled to finally have your own place to sing to your heart’s content. In the beginning, you kept your voice fairly quiet, not chancing anything as your heart still shuddered at the prospect of your safe place being invaded by cruel merfolk that have the sole existence of stripping you of all the things that make you who you are. At the very least, they hadn’t gone after your only loved ones - your parents. As time stretched on and your visits to the tower rock became all the more frequent, you had gotten careless and sang louder and the most powerful you had ever been.

It was extremely beneficial to your aching soul despite the dull gnawing discomfort the inside of your throat was left in after your loud belting. Just as you were about to release a bellow of laughter from exhilarating release, you felt powerful rapid movement in the water directly in front of you. It felt as if a merman was speeding through the body of water after you and in a panicked...

please remember that this is, unfortunately, not going to be continued as it is a part of my ‘Fragments’ Series, where I just post works that I have discontinued, maybe still in its drafting/notes-infused stage. I know it might seem like a pointless series but I’m proud of all my works and love to share more than I should.

#park jimin #BTS jimin #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin x reader #DRAFT

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