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erythrum · 3 years

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𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘖𝘯𝘦

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦,𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴,𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.9𝘬 +

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘺/𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

The boneyard was a melting pot, pogues, tourons, and kooks unalike all gathering for one of the last kegger's of summer. This mash together of kids from all over Kildare and the mainland always ended in chaos, it was just a matter of time before shit went down tonight.

Rafe had his arm thrown around my shoulders as we walked down the path to the boneyard. I could faintly see Topper and Kelce downing the cups of pogue provided beer. Didn’t matter whether or not the kooks or pogues could get along, as long as it was on the cut and alcohol was provided, the teens could get along for a limited amount of time.

“Hey y/n! What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for college this week?” It was Sarah who yelled out to me, running up to her brother and I in her floral printed dress. Rafe’s arm dropped to his side as she came with Topper not far behind.

“Oh I just couldn’t miss my last kegger before leaving, Duke can wait on me one more day.” The two of us embraced in one of those hugs that has you shifting your weight from side to side. I guess she didn’t realize I wouldn’t leave for college for another month, but I was sure she was already too drunk for me to explain it to her that she was not thinking of the right month.

As Sarah was hanging onto me probably a little too tight, Topper was giving Rafe one of those looks that said everything but also nothing at the same time. Like prior knowledge had to be known to understand the context. I of course did not, those two always had some stupid shit planned and I can almost guarantee it had to do with messing up the pogues’ little party.

The sun hung low on the horizon after I had finished my third cup, the colors illuminating the sky so brilliantly it felt like a fantasy. I stripped off my top and headed for the water, the pinks and purples of the sky reflected in its crashing waters. It was so cold, the temperature sent shivers up my body and a familiar rush in my energy. Almost waist deep now, I submerged my body completely under the water. It was always how I remembered it, calm and refreshing.

“C’mon Rafe! Don’t be a little bitch and get in there, I see the way you look at her,” Topper spewed, pushing his friend to have a little courage.

“Man what the fuck are you even talking about?” Deny everything Rafe thought.

“Oh come on dude, you’ve been making please love me eyes at her since the sixth grade, and please fuck me eyes at her since the tenth, when are you gonna do something about it for once? You’ve got a month to make a move, or regret it your entire life,” Topper continued his monologue as Rafe tuned him out, too distracted by the girl, his girl, staring out into the Atlantic like it was calling to her.

His heart was pounding as he made a B-line for the water, a light jog, but not so fast someone would think he’s crazy, or just madly in love. He swiftly pulled his polo over and off his head before plunging into the chilly water. Topper clearly knew whatever he'd said had worked.

I heard him before I saw him, Rafe approached and submerged himself just as I had a few minutes before.

“If we get hypothermia I'm sending you my hospital bills.” He laughed, wading around in the shallow water.

“Oh shock! Rafe Cameron threatening his medical bill payments? I never could’ve guessed!” We enjoyed our few minutes of peace before talking again.

“But it’s basically impossible anyways, you get use to it after awhile, maybe it’ll calm your hot-headed ass down,” I giggled and prepared for what always came next. Rafe pickup me up around my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before attempting to sprint as fast as he could deeper into the water. His hands had been wrapped around the back of my knees for a few moments until he threw himself and I down into the deeper water, both of us completely submerged beneath the surface.

The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the deep blue of the sky was beginning to envelop the boneyard. We had come up for air, and I began splashing him with the water around us, payback for his antics. Theres no way in hell I’d be able to throw him down into the water too, this was the best I could come up with. The two of us were laughing before Rafe grabbed my arms and twisted me around so my back was flesh against his front. I gave up on trying to fight him off. Instead I just rested against him in an attempt to catch my breath.

“Hey Rafe, can we talk about something?” Oh fuck she knows, he thought. This was gonna be it, it’s going to fuck up his entire plan.

“Yeah, uh sure, like here?” He questioned.

“Maybe not here, I think we’ve got as audience,” he knew she was referring to Topper and Kelce, they were watching from the beach.

"The truck then?" I nodded my head, not at all prepared for the favor I needed to ask of him.

The sand stuck to my feet as we headed back to where his truck was, the chilly air wrapping around my body. Rafe opened the backseat door and pulled out a towel for me, always prepared. He pulled the passenger side door and I slid into the seat, the heat of his car pumping through the interior. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure if his was too. We made it about halfway to tannyhill before speaking.

“Soooo,” he said.

“You’re going to think I’m absolutely crazy, Rafe," I laughed in an attempt to hide my nervousness.

"First of all, you're already crazy, and second of all, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what you're going to say," his hands were clenching the steering wheel harder now.

""Oh really? You already knew that I was going to ask you to take my virginity?" I don't know why, but I just blurted it out.

His car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, lunging me forward as he stared in disbelief at the road infront of him.

"Im sorry, what did you just say?"

"That I want you to take my virginity? V-card? Cherry? Damn Rafe how else am I supposed to say it?"

"And," there was a pause in his voice like he didn't believe me, "your being serious, correct?"

“Correct.”

“And, come again? I need to hear that one more time.”

“Jesus fuck Rafe, I’m being dead serious, I want you to take my virginity, what about that is so hard to explain?” It came out as more of a yell than a scream, he took a long sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He was thinking long and hard, I knew because he always had something to say, and now he wasn’t saying anything at all. It felt like hours had past before he spoke again.

“Why?”

It was my turn for a long sigh.

“Well, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and I want to do it, but whenever I think about it in my head the only person I can see doing it with is you. You’re the only person I trust enough with my own body, I mean shit,” I had to think for a long time before admitting what came next.

“Whenever someone, you know like Scarlet or whoever, asks about who I’m interested in or whatever it may be, not a single person ever comes to mind except you, it’s like all I see when I look at you is you, everything else is like blurred around you and whenever I think about who the love of my life will be, I always think of you, not some mystery guy that I haven’t met yet.” I didn’t plan for this to be a full confession on how I feel about him, but here I am spilling everything I’ve been holding in my heart for the last three years.

“And I know that sounds fucking stupid I know, I mean we’re still teenagers for crying out loud, but when I’m with you it always feels like I’m home.” I was nearly crying at this point, struggling to get the words out of my chest that had been waiting for so long. He was listening, deadly quiet, and I had no idea what he was thinking for once in my life.

“You know what? Just forget about it, can you take me home please?” I was definitely crying now, it felt like I’d ripped my own heart to shreds. Theres no way he could ever feel the same way about me, he protected me like I was his own blood, not like he was in love with me. My face was nestled into the sleeve of my hoodie as the tears came out. His hands had moved back to the steering wheel now, gripping onto it so tight I thought it might break. The muscles in his forearms almost looked like they were twitching, but he still had the car in park.

He wanted to just grab her and kiss her right now, the girl he'd been in love with since the sixth grade sitting in his passenger seat, her seat, confessing her feelings to him. Rafe knew it was alot for her to ask, but it meant even more to him everything that she had said after her original question. And there was no way in hell he was going to let her get away again.

Rafe reached his hand over to hold onto her tear stained cheek.

"y/n," The bother of them were breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you," it slipped from my mouth and he leaned in to kiss me. It felt like I had a wave of electricity coursing through my body. His hand grasping onto my face as he leaned over the center console. My hand reaching for his chest, his lips on mine as we intertwined with one another. It felt like everything in my life was complete, and the tension has been released. His fingers tangled in my hair.

It was over before I realized it, and Rafe was driving me home. My breathing hadn't normalized in any way, it was like I needed to throw up my heart to get the knot out. I couldn't stop thinking about the way his had felt on me, the way his lips felt on mine, the way it felt for once in my life like I was loved.

"i'll think about it," his voice cracked.

I leapt out of his car as fast as I could with tears streaming down my face. Did he feel the same? Did he not? My brain was spinning so fast I barely made it inside my bedroom door before collapsing. I wrapped myself up in the thick comforter, a heart full of ache and a body exhauster with sleep.

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#rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron #obx smut #obx #outerbanks smut #outerbanks

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iwaisuke · 3 years

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i like you so much, you'll know it

ft. kageyama tobio, semi eita, iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre: fluff (prompts are based off lines of the song)

masterlist

a/n: from the c-drama a love so beautiful :) i wrote this at like 4am so sorry if its crap haha. not proof read either. also, sorry in advance if they're too ooc lol im a mess rn.

» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

i like your eyes, you look away when you pretend not to care i like the dimples on the corners of the smile that you wear. i like you more the world may know but dont be scared cause im falling deeper baby be prepared.

» today was your first day at karasuno highschool. honestly, you were so scared. that was up until you found out kageyama was going too.

» the two of you had been childhood friends due to each others grandparents knowing the others. you had been with him through his ups and downs. his victories and defeats. almost everything kageyama did, you were there with him.

» actually, you didnt know kageyama was going to karasuno until you walked outside your door to find the raven haired boy in the same school uniform as you

» "tobi? you never told me you were going to karasuno?" giving him a side eyed grin. "i thought you were planning on going to aoba johsai like oikawa senpai and iwaizumi senpai"

» you viewed kageyama as someone who expected others to reach his level in order to be a good match for him. he had a strong head on his shoulders. naturally gifted in volleyball, like everything was given to him on a gold platter. of course, he wasnt perfect and thats where you come in and keep him level headed. helping him understand his faults and weaknesses as well. doing your best to encourage the setter

» he let out a sigh. a slight frown forming on his face. "i didnt get in.." he quietly said. "karasuno has a good volleyball team though and i can feel myself growing here" he stated bodly

» and boy was he right. something about kageyama did changd that day. he usually was so bitter and angry. a very pessimistic look on life if he and others weren't at the top. maybe it was the orange haired boy, hinata, that the setter and you became friends with. and maybe it was his great senpai's who were patient with him and gave him the opportunity to grow

» kageyama started smiling more often. his small unnoticeable dimples showing. he became kinder. softer. and more carefree. he was a growing boy both mentally and physically.

» what you didnt realize was that not only was kageyama changing, you as well, had something changing and growing in your heart.

» but kageyama noticed. oh boy did he really notice, the way you seemed to become happier and livelier by the day. how the stars sparkled in your eyes when you talked about something you enjoyed. the kind of perfume you would wear and how you would tie your hair differently each day. the weird trinkets you just seemed to love that decorated your bag. but most importantly, how much bigger your heart has become, loving everyone and their faults. always encouraging and motivating him and his team.

» was she always like this? he would constantly think to himself. all of a sudden being hyperaware about you... but he would NEVER let you know that, let alone his senpai's. it was just too embarrassing. just thinking about the never ending teasing he'd get from tanaka and noya senpai made him shiver.

» all of these things he felt about you hit kageyama like a truck the day everyone started to wear their winter uniforms.

» picking you up to walk to school together was a normal thing since the two of you lived close, but how was kageyama suppose to do this now when you're standing in front of him. thigh high socks to keep your legs warm, an oversized jacket that you had borrowed from him a while back you forgot to return. white mittens to cover your cold hands and the slight blush on your face from the wind chill.

» "does it look weird?" you shyly asked. kageyama was silent. "ah.. give me a second. I'll go back in and change real qui-"

» kageyama tugged on your hand. "its fine. lets just go to school or we'll be late." refusing to look you in the eyes. heat rising to your cheeks as tobio dragged you along with him.

» your feelings for the setter had blossomed over the past few months. falling deeper and deeper into him, and at this point you felt like you couldnt hide it anymore. you just had to tell him. tell him all the wonderful things he's done. the way he's grown and how much he means to you.

» "tobi..." your soft voice spilling out. eyes closed, the fog of your breath coming out as you exhaled. "i lik-"

» you felt something wrap around your neck. "wait y/n..." kageyama spoke, interrupting what you were about to say. not gonna lie, you felt like your heart was about to be shattered like ice eventhough kageyama continued to wrap his scarf around your neck.

» "dont say it..." he quietly said as he began to walk forward without you.

» ah... is this what rejection feels like? i didnt even get to say it properly... your hands felt colder now that kageyama wasnt holding them anymore.

» he took a quick glance back at you. blush on his cheeks. "be prepared because i want to be the one to tell you first."

i like the way you try so hard when you play ball with your friends. i like the way you hit the notes in every song you're shinnin' i love the little things like when you're unaware, i catch you steal a glance and smile so perfectly

» semi eita, your 3 year heart throb from the moment he first spoke to you.

» at first, you had suppressed these feelings, telling yourself he would never look at you the same way. but something about the blonde tsundere struck a chord in your heart that you just couldn't forget.

» the two of you ended up becoming friends. closer than you had actually imagined within these past 3 years. doing everyday life with you. waking up and saving you a spot at breakfast. helping you with your studies in exchange for being his workout buddy and motivator.

» semi kept his tabs on you. your likes and dislikes. the things that made you smile and the things that made you groan in disgust, but he would never let you know that.

» to semi, you were his breath of fresh air. the song he has on repeat everyday. the kind of person who would keep him on his toes. in a good way of course

» "oi what are you daydreaming of this time?" semi asked as you zoned out while drinking your carton of strawberry milk. "hm? oh nothin. just thinkin about whats in store for us today!" reaching your arms above your head letting out a stretch. "i just know for a fact. today is gonna be a good day." semi chuckled at your optimistic claim. "how do you know for sure?" "i dont know how. i just do" you replied with a smile on your face.

» today, shiratorizawa had a practice match with aoba johsai and today, eita was picked to be in the starting line up. the pure joy that radiated from his body. maybe today was a really good day just like how you had said.

» semi took a quick glance up into the stands, you gave him a thumbs up and wished him good luck. his smile was brighter than you had ever seen it and his eyes shined like stars. he always told you that whatever chance he got on the court, he would be sure to not let his team down no matter what. he was in his zone. playing his best and sure enough, they had won all 3 matches.

» after practice, semi and you would hang out at his dorm afterwards. he liked to show you all the new songs he was working on. whether it was a cover or a song or a song he was writing on his own.

» the two of you leaned against the wall as you sat on semi's bed. his sheet music all sprawled out before him on his bed sheets. guitar in his arms and you beside him.

» "what are you working on semi?" "a song" "well obviously dum dum" you laughed, reaching out for a paper in front.

» "so who's the special lady?" you teased him as you read the lyrics. deep down inside you could only wish these words were meant for you. a blush formed on eita's face. "just... shut up about it... its not ready yet"

» it was getting late and falling asleep at semi's place was a normal occurrence at this point. your eyes became heavy and your head started bobbing.

» "sleepy?" eita asked as he noticed your eyes drooping. "mhm. sing for me semi? please?" his voice was so soft like a mothers touch yet somehow had the power to pierce through your soul sometimes. although, it never failed to help you fall asleep when you needed it.

» hesitantly, semi started humming. softly speaking some lyrics here and there. you didnt know where the tune was from so you listened the best you could.

» "... till the last of snow dissapears ... till a rainy day, becomes clear. never knew a love like this, now i can't let go..."

» your eyes had closed. slumber taking over you as you fell onto semi's shoulder.

» "im in love with you... and now you know..."

» yeah. today was a good day. just like you said it was going to be.

in a world devoid of life, you bring color. in your eyes i see the light, my future. always and forever i know i cant let you go. im in love with you and now you know

» to iwaizumi, unlike volleyball, oikawa, maki, mattsun, school, anything life threw at him; you were the thing in his life that was constant yet at the same time a whirlwind of new beginnings. not in a bad way though.

» ever since you were kids, you showed iwaizumi the beauty in things he would have never guessed had. he was bold and tended to look over things without giving them much thought. his eyes straight ahead to the trials before him. you on the other hand, stopped him and slowed him down from rushing into them blindly.

» "every moment is precious. you should learn to cherish it because you never know when it's gonna be your last" you always said

» your views of the world were beautiful compared to how cruel it actually was. naivety maybe? or maybe it was just because you were blessed with a kind soul.

» iwaizumi always knew he had feelings for you. you had been with him through thick and thin. he could depend on you and you could depend on him. in his eyes, you were the most beautiful person on earth. deep down he had hoped the two of you could stay like that forever. nothing could ever change that.

» or so he thought...

» "iwa chan~ you owe me a meat bun" oikawa whined as the group of friends were walking to the gym for volleyball practice. "shut up crappykawa. i already bought you one last week" "oi isn't that y/n over there?" maki said, shaking iwaizumi's shoulder.

» sure enough it was you. apparently you had told iwaizumi to go ahead of you today because you had something to take care of in the afternoon. telling him you'd meet up with him after practice was over. not thinking much of it, he bid you a farewell and went on in his day.

» "oooou by the looks of it, this is the perfect confession scene" mattsun teased. "oi stop messing around" iwaizumi's voice hoarse. not gonna lie, iwaizumi felt his heart drop when mattsun said that

» the 4 boys crept closer to see what was going on.

» there you were, standing in the middle of a classroom with a black haired boy. "mhm. definitely a confession." oikawa stated. "shut up tooru we cant hear" maki retorted.

» you weren't considered popular in school but that didnt mean people didnt know who you were. iwaizumi knew you were gorgeous and on top of that, smart, kind and one of the sweetest girls, so it was only natural that people would be drawn to you.

» they watched as the boy got closer and closer to you. voices barely being audible to the 4 boys outside. iwaizumi's heart could bear to see this right before his eyes.

» without even thinking, his feet moving on his own, iwaizumi barged into the room. all eyes towards him.

» "iwa what are you-" without letting you finish, iwa dragged you out of the classroom. "iwa where are you taking me" asking him as he took you to who knows where, leading you up the stairs of the school.

» up on the roof, he finally let go. "sorry..." he mumbled.

» "sorry for what iwa?" "for ruining that confession... i just-"

» "you just...-?"

» "i just love you ok?!"

» your heart shook at the resonance of his voice. iwa liked you? he liked you back?! wait no- he loved you.

» you had loved iwaizumi from the moment you met him and as the two of you grew up, your love for him only grew deeper. he was the only one you'd ever look at. the only one who would ever cross your mind. you had hoped he felt the same about you but he was always so busy with other things you only felt like you would be able to support him on the sidelines as he faced the world head on like he always does.

» just being in iwaizumi's presence was enough for you. no need to be greedier, you thought. its good to be content with what you have, but just knowing that he shares the same feelings... its ok to be a little greedy right?

» your silence being louder than it should have been, iwaizumi took it the wrong way. "look I know this isn't the greatest confession. heck it's not even the way I wanted to confess to you, and get it if you like that other guy, you don't have to-"

» shuting him up with a kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. needless to say, he was shocked, but embraced you as well.

» "you're overthinking too much iwa. that's so unlike you" you chuckled. his face bright red at the previous actions.

» "i love you. I've loved you for a long time actually. every single second. every moment we've shared. i cant picture myself with anyone but you hajime."

» iwa let out a sigh of relief. a smile being brought back onto his face. "good because all I know is that i cant let you go. in the past, present and even in the future...."

» the blue sky slowly changing into shades of coral warmed your heart even more on top of his sweet words that you've always longed to hear.

» "im in love with you, and now you know"

-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

enjoy your order! have a great day!

#haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama fluff #semi eita #semi x reader #semi eita fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu fluff #yinny!drabbles

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lemonpeter · 3 years

Text

Tempting and Teasing

Based off of this post by @im-a-goner-foryou I hope everyone enjoys 💕 this was so much fun to write

Warnings: parent/teacher relationship, age difference, mild daddy kink, smut, top Tony, bottom Peter, definitely nff

3.3K words (whoops)

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Peter liked to be in contact with all his student’s parents.

But there were some who didn’t handle the school stuff, so he didn’t really get to know them. One of these was Tony Stark. Father of his favorite student (not that he’d admit to it.) And all he knew about the man was that he was an asshole.

But he’d never actually met him. It was just his reputation. Peter didn’t like to judge but he didn’t have reason to think any different.

Until the open house.

Apparently Morgan’s mom couldn’t attend like she typically did with these events. So there Tony was in all his glory.

He looked like the type of guy that would flirt with your wife in front of you. Snarky, acting all cool and mysterious. He wore thousand dollar sunglasses inside during the evening. That kind of guy. It was like he believed he was still the high school baddie in every teen movie.

It instantly annoyed Peter. He didn’t like phony people. And he didn’t like cocky people. And Tony Stark seemed like the best of both worlds.

Except...when he came to the classroom to talk to Peter about Morgan, he was like a completely different person.

They were alone in the room, so apparently he didn’t feel the need to put on his cool persona. He was sweet and dorky and seemed kinda like the best dad ever.

Morgan showed him around the classroom, proudly presenting her class work from the day to him.

And Tony just listened to her, encouraging her and letting her do whatever she wanted. He sat down in one of the tiny plastic chairs at the desks, clearly uncomfortable. But as soon as Morgan started talking again he was completely in tune with her and everything she was telling him.

Peter just watched in silent awe, smiling a little as he leaned against the counter. Maybe he shouldn’t have judged so quickly. Because Tony Stark was clearly just a big softie that didn’t want to be seen.

When Morgan was done with her presenting, Tony stood back up and walked over to Peter. He cleared his throat, raking a hand through his hair.

The teacher watched the action, biting his lip slightly before catching himself. That was highly inappropriate. He couldn’t help his attraction to a nice silver fox, but he could put off the swooning until later when he was home. Not in front of the man himself.

Tony caught the lip bite but didn’t comment, just smirking a little. “I just wanted to thank you for being such a good teacher to Mo. She never stops talking about you at home. She’s one of the only kids I’ve ever known to want to go to school.” He chuckled. “But I guess that’s all thanks to a wonderful teacher.”

Oh, the compliments instantly made Peter feel all warm and fuzzy, melting from the inside out as he listened. “It’s what I love to do, no need to thank me. And she’s a wonderful kid. Don’t tell the other parents, but she’s the best in the class,” he joked lightly.

A softer, more genuine laugh pulled itself from Tony and Peter could feel himself turning to mush. No, that was not how the night was supposed to go. Not at all. He couldn’t get attached.

“I think she’s pretty okay too,” Tony teased, looking down at the girl and ruffling her hair. “But again. Thank you. Don’t stop doing what you’re doing.”

“I don’t plan on it.” The teacher smiled, watching the father and daughter interact.

Tony picked Morgan up, looking back to the younger man after a moment. “Well, I’ll let you go. I’m sure you have other parents and gremlins to meet with. And I’ve gotta drop this little one off with her mom.” He grinned a little. “I hope I’ll see you again soon.”

And then, Peter could have sworn he dreamed it, the man quickly wet his bottom lip with his tongue as he looked over the teacher. Then he left with a wink and Morgan calling over his shoulder about seeing him tomorrow.

An interaction with a parent was not supposed to leave Peter weak at the knees. It was so inappropriate. He couldn’t have thoughts about Tony that were any more than how good of a dad he was.

But of course, that made Peter wonder how good of a daddy he could be as well.

God, what had he done.

———

Of course, the next day had to be the day that Tony began driving Morgan to school.

Pepper typically did it, and she would continue to, but she needed someone for that morning and Tony jumped at the opportunity to see the pretty teacher again.

He was only human, after all. Weak for pretty young men who were kind. Peter’s sweetness made Tony want to ruin him that much more.

So he drove up to the school in his high dollar car, smirking as he watched other parents gawk and mutter among themselves. He parked to take Morgan inside instead of just doing the car line. Made it sure that he would see her teacher.

He walked her to the classroom, hands tucked in his pockets as he walked.

Peter saw him instantly, breath catching in his throat. “H-hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Just call me Tony, it’s alright,” he told the young man with a slight smirk. He loved how instantly flustered Peter was. “Just wanted to make sure that Mo got where she needed to be. She tends to wander.”

The young man nodded quickly. “Of course. Everyone is just playing outside right now, you’re here a bit early. So.” He leaned down, gently taking Morgan’s bag and hanging it on her designated hook. “You, little miss, can go play with Ms. Stacy’s kids that are here so far and the couple from your class. No running, no rough play, be careful,” he told her, running down the rules quickly.

He could feel Tony’s eyes on him and it made him feel hot all over.

Morgan quickly walked to the open door that led to the playground, not even bothering to wave bye to her dad.

Tony chuckled. “I guess whatever is out there is way more interesting than her old man, huh?”

“Oh, she just loves to play. You can’t take it personally.” Peter laughed softly, brushing a hand through his hair shyly. He was suddenly worried about how he looked. Damn the effect Tony had on him.

The older man smiled a little, nodding. “I guess.”

A moment of silence passed before Peter cleared his throat. “So, uh, I guess you can go now. Since she’s settled in and all.”

“Oh, well, she wasn’t the only reason I came,” Tony said smoothly. “I also just couldn’t help myself from seeing a certain teacher again.”

Peter watched him for a moment, clearly trying to work out what he meant. He had been the valedictorian of his high school class but couldn’t figure out that Tony meant him and not another teacher. “Then I guess you’d better go...find them,” he mumbled, a little disappointed. His eyes dropped to the ground in embarrassment.

Tony snorted a laugh. “Already found him, honey.” He stepped a little closer, watching the man.

“Him? Oh!” The teacher looked back up, meeting Tony’s eyes. “So you- me? You wanted to see me?”

“Of course I did, Mr. Parker,” he teased lightly. “I’m not one to deprive myself of the beauties in life.”

The younger man’s cheeks colored. “I’m not- you’re- oh, shut up.”

Tony was a little taken aback by the comment, but laughed. “What, can’t take a compliment?”

“I don’t appreciate teasing, Mr. Stark.”

“Oh that? That isn’t teasing. That’s genuine compliments. But I can tease if you’d like me to. How much time do you have?”

Peter stared at him, cheeks pink. “Mr. Stark- this is highly-“

“You want me to back off, just tell me and I will,” Tony told him boldly. “Just say the word.”

When Peter didn’t say anything, he smirked. “That’s what I thought.” He stepped forward, moving one hand to possessively cup the other man’s cheek. “You can tell me no at any time, alright?”

Peter knew that wouldn’t be happening.

He leaned up, catching Tony in a quick and hard kiss.

The older man eagerly kissed back, using his free hand to pull the teacher flush against his body.

Peter deepened the kiss, nipping at Tony’s bottom lip until the other man parted his lips with a groan, allowing the younger man to slip his tongue inside.

By the time they broke the kiss they were both panting and half hard, clearly not ready to stop anything they were doing.

“Give me one moment,” Peter whispered with a quick kiss pressed to Tony’s lips.

He walked to and opened the door, ducking his head outside.

“Gwen,” he said quickly.

The other teacher was watching her kids closely, slowly tearing her eyes away to look at Peter. “Yes…?”

“I need you to watch my kids for a little bit. Please. It won’t-” he glanced to Tony. “Well, it probably won’t take too long.”

The woman finally focused on him, then turned her eyes to the other man. She immediately knew what was going on and gave her coworker a disapproving look. “Peter, no. You can’t do that.”

“Pleeeease, Gwen. I’ll buy you lunch if you just watch my class. Twenty minutes tops.”

Tony snorted. “You’re definitely lowballing it a bit,” he mumbled. He shut up when the teacher nudged him.

Gwen sighed heavily, but nodded. “Fine. But just this one time, okay?”

“Of course, don’t even worry.”

He slipped back into the classroom, pulling Tony with him and locking the door.

Before he knew what was going on, he was pressed to the wall and lifted into the air as he yelped. “Tony!”

The older man chuckled, hands gripping the teacher’s thighs in order to hold him up. “Yes, honey?”

“A little warning next time would be nice,” Peter breathed before pulling Tony in for a kiss.

“Ooh, next time,” he said teasingly, instantly kissing back. He pressed his hips to Peter’s, allowing the man to feel how hard he was under his dress slacks.

The younger man hummed, rocking his hips weakly from his difficult position. “Is that all for me, Mr. Stark?”

Tony chuckled against his mouth, trailing kisses from his lips down to the collar of his sweater. “All for you, sweetheart. And yours to choose what to do with.”

Peter moved his hips again, working to try and get friction to his clothed cock. “I need you to fuck me, Tony.”

“See, I knew you could have a dirty mouth on you if you wanted,” he teased, gently nipping at a spot on the man’s neck.

The young man keened, mouth falling open around a quiet moan. “That’s not even half of it, sir. Just need to feel you so badly. I’ve thought about it since I saw you last night. Since you winked at me,” he rambled.

“That’s what got you?” Tony murmured, amused. “You’re so cute. Desperate for my cock just because of a wink.”

“And you- you licked your lips. Looking at me,” Peter recalled. “God, that messed with me.”

Tony slowly set Peter down to work on getting his pants off, listening to him with a hum. “Tell me, Mr. Parker, did you get off thinking about me last night? Did my little bit of interest I showed get you all hot and bothered?”

“Y-yes, sir. I had to get off as soon as I got home.”

“Tell me how you did,” the older man murmured, pushing Peter’s pants and tight briefs off. “Tell me how you took care of yourself.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed darker. “I fingered myself first-“

“How many fingers?”

“Th-three. Had to prep myself for a bigger toy.”

Tony hummed softly, nodding as he slid his hands over the teacher’s hips. “Used a toy on yourself?”

“I did. It’s my favorite, nice and thick. Not too long,” he described. He shivered at the way that Tony touched him, leaning up for another quick kiss.

“That sounds good,” the other man murmured. “So you like thick cocks?”

Peter nodded, cheeks burning as he eyed the bulge in the man’s slacks. “I do. Do you have one for me?”

Tony chuckled, unbuckling his belt and leaving it loose around his hips. “I’ll let you decide that for yourself.”

He unbuttoned his pants and unzipped just enough, getting his cock out of his boxers until it was visible.

And oh, it was even better than Peter had hoped.

Even thicker than his favorite toy, just about as long. He couldn’t wait to feel it inside of him. Tony had a gorgeous cock.

Tony grinned a little as he watched the teacher nearly drool over just the sight of him. “Is this acceptable?”

“More than. Way more than. Please, I need that inside of me,” Peter breathed, his own cock twitching as he watched the man start to stroke himself.

“We haven’t even prepped you yet, honey. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me, Tony, fuck! I just need you,” he whined, hips bucking weakly into the air. “I’ll be fine.”

“Telling me to hurt you,” Tony mused. “That’s dangerous. Dangerous thing to tell me to do.”

“I want it so bad. Please hurt me,” Peter begged, chest rising and falling quickly with each heavy breath. He was so ready for Tony, no matter the discomfort he’d feel later.

The older man chuckled softly, picking Peter up again and pressing his back against the board. “Your wish is my command, honey.”

The teacher marveled at his strength as he used just one arm to hold him up. Then Tony used his free hand to guide his cock to Peter’s hole, pausing after a moment.

Wordlessly, he reached into his back pocket and grabbed a packet of lube that he quickly tore open and drizzled over his cock. “Almost forgot,” he murmured. “Although we both would have remembered quickly.”

Peter stared at him in disbelief for a moment before laughing. “You came prepared. You counted on this happening.”

“I did,” Tony confirmed. “I saw the way you looked at me yesterday. And...well, I was hoping you’d feel the same way as I did.” He grinned. “I just can’t wait sometimes.”

“Obviously.” The teacher laughed softly, hands feeling over the other man’s clothed arms and gripping gently to keep himself steady. And just feeling Tony up was nice too. Blame it on practicality and the sexy muscles he felt were just a bonus. Right. “Are we ready now?”

Tony slid the tip of his cock against Peter’s hole, feeling the tight muscle clench at the movement. “Relax,” he said gently. “Don’t want this to hurt you. Just relax.”

Peter nodded slowly, eyes staying on the man as he wrapped his legs around his waist. “I’m relaxed. Don’t stop, keep going. Please.”

He gasped when the head of Tony’s cock pushed in, the stretch burning slightly but nothing more than he could handle. “Fuck. Yeah, that’s it. Keep going, Tony!”

The older man smiled as he watched him, slowly pressing in until his balls were flush against the teacher’s ass. “Still feeling good?”

Peter’s high moan told him what words couldn’t. The sound told him to keep going. And so did the man’s fingers gently digging into his shoulders out of pleasure. Apparently the lack of preparation only affected him but so much.

So he started moving, hips thrusting forward at an even pace that quickly sped up.

Peter dropped his head back, eyes slipped shut as he groaned in obvious bliss.

The sight of his pale, unblemished neck was welcoming and Tony quickly attached his lips to a spot.

He kissed over the smooth skin at first, gentle in contrast to his harsh thrusts. But then he bit down, just hard enough that he knew there would be bruising later on.

He continued the cycle, kissing sweetly before biting or sucking marks into the teacher’s perfect skin. Peter’s skin had a garden of blooming bruises over his entire neck, more reds and purples showing than the creamy white it originally was.

Each mark pulled a new sound from him, pleasure he didn’t know was possible surging through his body at every dueling sensation.

Tony eventually just rested his lips in the junction of Peter’s shoulder, where his sweater had slipped slightly in their frantic activities. His hips kept up their bruising pace, fucking into the teacher quickly as they both felt their highs approaching.

“Tony,” Peter gasped out, opening his eyes once again to look at the other man. He clenched down hard around the cock inside of him, moaning louder. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Tony, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpered, breathing hard as his high rapidly got closer.

The only friction to his cock had been the way it had slapped against his stomach with every thrust Tony gave but that combined with the brutal fucking he was on the receiving end of was more than enough to get him to the edge. He felt his balls tightening with every continued movement and he knew it wouldn’t be much longer.

Tony nodded, weakly sucking one more mark onto his neck. “I’m close too,” he murmured, hips not faltering in their actions. “Cum for me, baby, come on. I know you need to, cum for daddy.”

Hearing Tony call himself that name was the last thing Peter needed to send him over the edge.

He cried out as his orgasm hit him, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes at the sheer intensity.

His cock jerked before spurting long ropes of cum in between his and Tony’s bodies. He was vaguely aware that they’d need to clean up but was too lost in his high to truly focus on it.

Tony wasn’t far behind him, thrusts finally stilling as he came. He held Peter close, pressed firmly against the other man as he spilled deep into him.

They came down from their highs together, holding each other more gently than before and working on evening out their breathing.

Peter was the first to speak, words coming out in between soft kisses he pressed to Tony’s jaw. “So this...uh...were you thinking this was like...a one time thing?”

Tony laughed softly, unable to help himself. He was still high on the feeling of everything going on that the event of it never happening again didn’t even occur to him. “No. This was...was way too good to just be once. If that’s alright with you.”

He slowly set the teacher down, softening cock slipping out of him. He grabbed a tissue from Peter’s desk and quickly cleaned himself up and got tucked away in his pants. Then he focused on cleaning up Peter.

As he worked, Peter talked. “I think this was...yes. Amazing.” He laughed a little. “But maybe...not here next time. Maybe my place? Somewhere I won’t get fired?”

Tony chuckled, gently dressing Peter again and nodding. “Somewhere else would be good. Your place, my place. Somewhere,” he agreed.

“Oh, good.”

They managed to get themselves mostly presentable just in time for the starting bell to ring.

Peter unlocked his door and let his students in, whispering a quick thank you to Gwen.

Tony left the building after kissing the teacher quickly, leaving him swooning and giggling. He was put together and smooth, like nothing at all had happened. The only indicator that something happened was the smug smirk on his face.

Peter on the other hand...the teacher looked like he’d been attacked by something. Where he was normally put together and perfect, he was a wreck. Curls wild and sticking up, bruises forming all over his neck, sore and limping, sweater still suspiciously stained (not that the kids would notice.)

But he was thrilled and had a huge smile on his face that wouldn’t leave.

And a certain parent’s number added to a new contact in his phone.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #tw daddy kink #parent/teacher relationship #I don’t know what all to tag this #teacher!Peter Parker #parent!Tony Stark #my writing #let me know if i need to add any tags #too tired to tag lol #please don’t judge this too harshly #I like it #so #please don’t hate it lol

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dropsofletters · 4 years

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split-ends and break-ups

title: split-ends and break-ups pairing: park chanyeol/reader genre: band!au/ex-boyfriend!au/enemies to lovers!au summary: when participating in a battle of the bands to earn a position in some discography, she realizes that one of the contestants is none other than her ex. musically and physically blessed, as well as extremely sweet chanyeol is there to compete, though it falls upon his shoulders to let his competitive blood destroy his past love’s chance at success…or he could simply remember all that happened before their fall out. type: fluff/angst/romance word count: 9,688

No plethora of convincing quotes, astonishing inspirational speeches and phrases along the lines of ‘it will be alright’ could make her believe in hope. Such a harsh mindset is the necklace that hangs around her neck, digging into her skin uncomfortably, glowing in the dark when she sees the flickering lights of her apartment casting its power down on to the living room. Somewhere, her bandmate must be sleeping, specifically the guitarist, but instead of seeking for her flat pillow and her rusty bedsheets, she opts to stay up late once again, pen moving against her old notebook, writing down lyrics while her bass peacefully rests on her lap.

Not that it is any closer to sounding in its heavy tune, considering that her brain is completely dried from inspiration, wondering why musicians must suffer in order to be big. The best bands did it—she has tried to convince herself for the past two years in which they are played small gigs in local bars—, but they are truly getting nowhere. Once her apartment was only shared with herself and now, looking to save some more money to record a few songs, she had to share it with her deep sleeper of a guitarist. Somewhere in between reaching her dreams, she has lost herself. Refrigerator void of food. Soul void of happiness. Mind void of ideas.

It’s a cycle as of now.

Everything burns. The ache of her legs, seated atop a couch that can only pain her so much, cheap to its core. Her heart, it burns, simply because she doesn’t know what to do anymore—if being a secretary is even an option now that a bassist didn’t work, if people were right when they said that she should have simply stuck to something simpler. Her fingers push her bass down, trying to find a rhyme that isn’t ‘love’, for she is tired to writing songs about loving for one night and forgetting in the other. Tired is what she is, of everything and anything, of wishing for stardom but not even being able to look up at the stars in her own goddamned apartment, too tiny and closed to even have proper, wide windows.

Brand new is not her bass when she comes up with a brief hook, one that does not make her happy, the corners of her mouth turning down when anger finally lifts her off the couch. Her legs creak under her weight, putting her bass down and placing her hands on each side of her temples, fingers caressing over the skin around her parietal bones. Everything seems to be falling down for her, flashing back to the times in which people had told her that she was good—but not outstanding enough to be a musician, a well-known at that.

It’s too hard to forget when all she has ever dreamed of is to be on a stage and play the bass.

Three in the morning and the moonlight is testing her when she turns off the lights and can’t even reach for her keys, wanting nothing more to get out and look for some snacks to have in that twenty-four-hour convenience store a few blocks away. Scared, she is not, as if the world and all the bad in it paralyzed because of her disdain. Her steps are quickened, bag tossed over her shoulder and crossing her waist, a t-shirt falling halfway on her thighs, her leggings with a few holes here and there—clear notification that she was probably wearing her pajamas. Trying is not in her vocabulary anymore.

Not when the moon looks just as hopeless as she is, the wind barely blowing in such a damned place. The butts of cigarettes rest on the streets, the music is far too distant to even be pleasurable, broken glass shatters under the weight of anyone’s shoes, the drinking habits of the city toxic in its vast meaning. A deep sigh is enough to make her feel like this city doesn’t even hold oxygen anymore, simply living off monoxide. Some people are sleeping on the streets, highlight of the poverty that no one does anything to fight for, and she closes her eyes while quickening her steps.

Musicians are never fully happy, someone once told her, or maybe she read it in a magazine. What a curse that comes with the most beautiful of unions—through tunes and melodies, comes saddening memories of never reaching the dream she wished for.

On behalf of destiny, something stops her, a rock on the way that almost has her tripping over her own feet. Flip-flops are definitely not a good idea to go out in, but it is enough of a distraction to have her rolling her eyes. Leaning her hand against the brick wall by her side, she takes the rock out of her shoes, looking to the side simply to catch a glimpse of the harsh surface, covered by something that she can’t quite describe. A pamphlet, she realizes soon after, folding it in between her hands to bring it closer to her face.

A few guitars, the typical, half-assed job graphic designers do in most occasions when describing music. What catches her attention is the price of this competition, a battle of the bands with the chance of signing with a discography and some money with a few zeroes added to it. It’s enticing, glorious, enough of a push and put in such a place for her to save the pamphlet inside her pocket.

In the future, this will only be a flashback for her memoir, when everything was difficult before that battle of the bands turns her and her band into stars.

Or she sure hopes her future reads out that way.

🥁

“Maybe, we should get a band tattoo in commemoration of this moment.”

Slipping the yellow straw in between her lips to take a sip of her smoothie, she lifts her eyebrows at one of her bandmates, the vocalist to be exact. “I don’t believe your choices in tattoos, Hee Young.” She adds, looking at Hee Young as she picks from the variety of noodles in the gas station little convenience store. Maybe, this is part of the rock lifestyle, simply living off whatever snack is easier to pop in some boiling water or in the microwave. Not caring is the new black, some may say if you ask them. “Someone with a butterfly tattoo with the name of her ex on her left ass-cheek is definitely not a person to be trusted.”

Hee Young lifts her gaze, puffy and frizzy hair short and resting under her earlobes, pierced from top to bottom. Her voice is sweet compared to how tough she looks, tall and long, unapproachable at its finest. “Says the bassist with the bright yellow pants. Learn how to dress and then we can talk aesthetics.”

The only male in the group, and the drummer, pops his head from behind a rack of sunglasses, sporting ones with hearts on them. Andrew’s softened heart is too big to even be in a group with three of the most complicated, least understanding women in the world. The youngest simply wants to have fun, he says, loving the process of learning more than the success lifestyle. “Don’t cause a fuss.” He says, embarrassment coating his words. “You two are always fighting.”

“She’s the Paul to my John, let us be.” She argues, taking another sip of her smoothie before nodding her head towards the bathrooms outside the shop. “Should I go check up on Seong Im? She hasn’t gotten out in a while.”

“That’s why our diet should not only consist of noodles and salty, greasy snacks.” The youngest and yet wisest Andrew indicates, pulling the pink sunglasses down his slim nose. “It causes diarrhea.”

“Gross.” Hee Young whispers, putting the noodle packs back down on their spots. “What would you buy for a normal dinner? I think we deserve it after getting accepted in the battle of the bands.”

Andrew bites down on his bottom lip, quirking the corner of them up soon after. “…Salad sounds healthy.”

“I doubt we’re going to find vegetables in some gas station, Drew.” She argues, only to earn a shrug from Andrew.

“It may be about time for us to stop buying stuff in the gas station, then.”

“We have one hour of being a casted band in some contest and we’re already speaking as we can afford that.” Her voice is uneven when a smile appears on her face, patting her hand against Andrew’s shoulder. “But if it makes you happy, buy whatever. I’ll go look for Seong Im and wait in the car.”

What she hears in the background is the sound of Hee Young trying to convince Andrew of getting some snacks, to what he can simply deny her offers. The air fills her lungs when she opens the door, looking around the half-empty gas station at this hour of the night, some of the workers having dinner by the pavement. Her movements are slow when her fingers look in the pockets of the yellow pants that Hee Young always curses, reaching for the keys and twirling it in between her skilled bassist fingers.

Yellow is a color of happiness. The sun. Her first guitar and maybe, even the color of the dress she wore when she had her first kiss. When things were easier, definitely so, when musicians seemed cool instead of troublesome and filled with worries. The straw brings her happiness, too, her greens inserted in a drink that has her sighing at the precious coldness, the color seeping from her body now that her band got accepted after their audition. They are going to be able to compete for a contract with a discography, something that any musician is fighting and thriving for, to be treated like royalty in a world of warriors.

Her knuckles knock against the bathroom door, hearing a loud: “What?!” coming from the inside. That voice, definitely a bit obstinate, belongs to her guitarist perfectly.

“Are you okay in there?”

“Yep. Having the time of my life!”

“What happened? Indigestion?”

“…Don’t wanna talk about it.”

With a smile playing on her features, she nods her head. “I’ll be in the car when you get out.”

Near the shared car between her guitarist and herself, however, there is another car parked, a man standing beside it to fuel it. His back is turned to the workers, his profile clear to her and oh lord, does she know those features. A tall man with a nice profile, plush lips matching his slightly wide nose, big eyes innocent when he is doing most tasks, determined when playing the drums and a haze when he used to look at her. Those big hands, one resting on the windows of the car, had wrapped around her waist, rested on her thighs and explored all of her once or a hundred times of her life, in that damned car of his, with the music blasting just like it does right now, the people inside it the bandmates that she had once shared spots with.

A bassist for another band—Park Chanyeol’s band—she had once been. At the time, she was dating him, like the poor, oblivious woman that had fallen in love with him simply to break it off thanks to musical differences. Chanyeol wanted to experiment, while she wanted to continue to grow in the punk and rock spectrum of music, leaving them more separated than they had ever been. Three years later and she is in a new group, while he continues to shine in his beauty, unaware of her existence and yet, so close to her.

Something tells her that this is not the last time she is going to see him, much more when she gets closer and tries to get inside her car from the back doors, not wanting to be noticed by him, only to see a name-tag just like the one resting on top of her white tank top, reading his name and the title of the battle of the bangs competition.

No way.

No fucking way.

She was going against the band that had created her as an artist.

When Chanyeol lifts his gaze, she plops her body down in the backseat, looking up at the ceiling in hopes of not being caught by him. What she needs right now is to figure out the reason of her nervousness, why competitiveness settles inside her body in pure revenge for having him break-up with her thanks to the constant arguments about music. What he was once said was ‘great music’ could never compare to hers, she tries to argue with herself, though her mind tells her that Chanyeol’s group is fully capable of winning, too—

But no.

They are not.

Not when this is her chance of finally showing that ex-boyfriend of hers that her vision was right. Pride, oh such a damned thing, and the reason why she sits up to look at Chanyeol’s old car drive by. Pride has become her best friend just now.

🥁

When on stage, she feels like a different woman.

People are told what to do eighty percent of their lives; some understandable, some mere stigmas, some simply because of the individuals they surround themselves with. In her opinion, though, her bass gives her rules that adjust to her. She is not broke and misunderstood when on top of the stage, rehearsing in that same place in which they are going to perform just a month from them. She is not the girl-next-door turned into a nightmare when the bass pumps from her veins and her arteries to the crowd, musicians that equally appreciate and envy, all rats seeking to thrive from the same source of food. Some are behind the stage, others are resting on some of the seats, other seated in the floor but when she turns around and shares a smile with Andrew, she feels like she belongs.

Women are expected to be a million things, straight-up perfect. They are expected to be or not to be, never in between, never able to show that they are weak or if they are, they should cry for everything and anything, unable to help themselves in the eyes of the world. In her silence, people would think her troublesome personality comes from a space of clear trust issues, but that is not the case. She found other people just like her, who lifted her up when they needed to fight together. The joyful Andrew, too sweet to even be true, kicked out of his high school for bad grades back in the day and still fighting for a happy ending. The comedic Seong Im, definitely gorgeous enough to be a model and still, releasing some of the best guitar solos she has ever heard. Hee Young, the one that put them together, her middle school enemy and now, her best friend. People who had given their life out to craft music and now were fighting for a chance to be alive.

To be a band.

Her foot rests on the side of Andrew’s drum-set, smiling to him when she moves her fingers on her bass with tranquility, not missing a single tempo, the two in charge of making a song much more understood. Much to her disappointment, however, there is a point when she can’t even listen to her bass, the amplifier releasing an elongated, high, shrilling noise before her bass comes to a halt, though her movements don’t. her eyes widen, turning around and trying to turn the device on with her foot, only to see the lack of a flickering light that either shined green or red. Her eyes look for her guitarist, Seong Im losing her tempo thanks to the lack of the bass, the song falling flat when all they can hear are Seong Im’s late chords and Hee Young’s booming voice.

The crowd suddenly starts laughing, because life is a fucking sitcom and everyone needs to play along to their roles. People like them are meant to follow the stigma that is expected from them—to fail. Her fingers hook around her bass, settling it down as she rushes down the set of stairs that led down to the crowd’s spots. Thus she rushes around them, walking towards the backstage area, watching a lot of people get ready, either look-wise or in the music spectrum, though at the depths of musicians, mostly guitarists, she gets to see the big amount of cables that connected to the amplifiers and microphones, pushing a few people out of the way with her rushing, the pink beret on her head almost falling off it from the commotion.

By the cables and amplifiers, there are two men seated. One of them shorter than the other, bulkier, a cigarette falling from between his lips, the slit on his eyebrow and the rounded cheeks clearly making out the figure of the vocalist of Chanyeol’s band. Sam, the precious Sam that had been the one to put the two together, the first person to put a cigarette in between her lips, the friend that would accompany her to their first gigs, the songwriter of their group before Chanyeol and herself took the lead. Sam has always bled music, just like the past lovers do, yet he seems to be so passive about it, peaceful even.

Chanyeol and her could never do that.

By Sam’s side, however, much more obstinate and ambitious comes the magician that always captures her heart when he stares up at her, reminder of the days in which he made her feel like a goddess by pressing his lips to the spaces in her knuckles only to profess a passionate love for her, deep and profound. He would always look at her with wide eyes then, and to see him exchange that glance with her once again is nostalgia at its finest. It brings the food she had eaten earlier up her throat, the ache of her chest suddenly making her realize just how much she had changed from when she had started her path to music stardom.

Her closed-off shoes kick his knee, making him hiss when he holds it close to his chest. “So is this how we’re playing now? Are you sabotaging me?” The Chanyeol from the past would never be able to do such thing, too filled with softness inside the broadness of him to ever sabotage her. His legs lift him up from the floor simply to shake his head.

“I would never do that! I did not even know you were competing until I saw you up the stage!” Chanyeol argues, his voice a bit lifted in tone thanks to the ache in his knee, eyebrows moving with every word that escape his plush lips. A part of her, deep inside her brain, is telling her that she has got it twisted. Chanyeol is not one of those crazy men in the industry, and yet, she is here doubting him.

“You’re the only person here, though.” She argues, watching as people surround them in needs of hearing something more. “It would not surprise me. It was always about competition in between us two—”

Chanyeol releases a soft breath, reaching over to where she is simply to place a hand over her babbling mouth. “It was never like that. You were the one that saw it like that.”

Her tongue sticks out to get him off, though it works fairly soon, having his big palm running across his dark tee to get the saliva off. “Okay, so who did it? My amplifier is clearly disconnected and it was not like that before!”

Apart from being her ex-boyfriend, Chanyeol had once been her best friend. It’s shrilling to see such a tight bond of when they were younger, sharing anecdotes over bass solos and drum-kits, turn to dust now that they are older. Maybe, that is what love does—it destroys people, leaving them like a shell of what they used to be, or simply turning good memories into bitter ones. There are hundreds of songs she can’t sing anymore in fear of remembering him, the only man she has ever truly loved, the one person who has slowed down her world and turned it into beauty before they decided to shoot it down.

The sound of sweet laughter has her turning around, the warmth of Chanyeol’s body seeping through her skin when her back is turned to him. “We were just playing around with the cables. Chill.” One of the member of the duos competing adds, shrugging her tanned shoulders and crossing her arms over her chest.

“…So you were the one to do it?”

“We were trying to connect our amplifier and fucked it up. There are too many wires there, honey. I’m a bassist, not an engineer.”

Something about the woman with the orange hair, definitely bleached to utter lifelessness, speaks about the world as it is today. When people suddenly became swords instead of the battlers, wanting nothing more than to hurt those who got close to them or entered their territory. People cannot age, they cannot be better, they have to remain mediocre just like them. The world is all about surviving, but how can one survive when its entire population wants to slaughter each other? “I’m not playing games with you. You can’t do that type of shit. It’s not a game to me. My entire band looked bad because of you.”

“With a name like that, I doubt I did much work.” The woman says, her lips parting to retort to her comment, though the tall man behind her speaks before she could.

“Hey, calm down. You don’t have to talk to her like that.”

“It’s a competition. It’s what people do.”

Her fists bawl together, nails clinging to her skin when she pushes her body forward, ready to launch a punch on this woman’s face, a side of her that she had never seen suddenly growing inside her. They are fighting for a spot in a discography, only to be manufactured versions of who they really are, their friendships highlighted for the crowd to eat up like candy. That is as good as it gets, she imagines, stress taking the best of her when she nears the other bassist, only to be stopped by a pair of long and skinny arms wrapped around her, familiar to her skin when his booming voice can only whisper to her to lay off.

Not in those words, exactly, Chanyeol is intelligent enough to tell her that everything is going to be okay.

All force leaves her body, this demon that overtakes her when realizing that her dream is only a few fingers away and yet, she can’t grasp it. The sabotaging woman is angry, as it seems, placing one hand over her chest and cursing her out. Her name rolls off her tongue easily, like she knows her, the only thing this bassist is capable of seeing is her mistakes. Instead, she gives a glimpse of her back, turning round to see the long column of Chanyeol’s neck, his Adam’s apple prominent, the neck in which she used to hide her face in her toughest times and now, she feels like if she tried, she wouldn’t recognize the man in front of her.

“Hey, just ignore her. You’ll get disqualified if you fight. You’re not like this.” He tells her, as if repeating what she already knows.

She’s not like this.

But she has to for the dream.

“I will. I just—I—” Her voice is cut off when she finally catches a glimpse of her bandmates, all waiting for her. There are moments in life in which she feels lost, suddenly wondering what happened to the sweeter side of life. One of those memories come from them; those three people that see her every day, Sam and Chanyeol…all definitely a reminder of the golden woman she used to be, now desperate, clawing to the bits of dreaming that are left for her. “I’m sorry I blamed you.”

“Hey—”

Without much due, she goes over to her bandmates, welcomed in arms that wrap around her and make her feel safe. She doesn’t know the person she used to be in the past or the one that hopes in the future, but she wants to better this version of her. Of now. And she wants to do it as peacefully as possible.

On the stage, she is not her split-ends or her cheap clothing, she is not the roughness of her fingertips or the troubled financial status she is going through. On stage, she is an artist. On stage, she feels like she can breathe.

And no one can get through her path to the spotlight, that is for damn sure.

🥁

Her feet barely touch the ground, preparations for the big night of performance taking the best of her, sleep ridden body resting against a comfortable seat, trying to ease the ache on her limbs. Her fingers carefully play the bass, a little bit softer than normally, coming up with whatever is going on through her brain as she wonders if she should go back home, wrap herself in the blankets on her bed and lay her back on a grainy mattress. That, or she could stay here, being one with the empty practice room, getting used to the lights on her, finding inspiration on the beautiful notebooks they were gifted thanks to the competition and practicing a bit more with this equipment she can’t get enough of.

Over anything, she is a music freak. The type of person that sat down during her recess at school simply to read the old music books in the library, the one that had fallen in love with another musician when she really felt like dating. The type of person who would only stop her crying if she listened to music when she was younger, or the type of person that does not bleed disappointment in her lyrics or tunes, but instead focuses on showcasing the million parts of her heart that connect with a note. Be it D or E or even B, whatever she feels is painted in hues of colors.

Sometimes, the words in the paper do more than talk to her. Sometimes, they get to be alive, as well.

But she is not a singer. Damn her and her voice, she has always thought she is a bit too rough, for she doesn’t have that angelic nature that comes with a singer, that charisma that connects a person and brings them to tears. Perhaps, the sound of her bass would never be the tranquility to a person’s hearts, but the lyrics behind her own band are her own. Someone out there would learn to breathe with happiness again with her own hopefulness, coming from the depths of her still innocent soul that asks for a happy ending.

Or a happy development. A happy beginning never happened, either way.

But it will happen, it sure will.

The sound of a person’s voice in the otherwise empty practice room captured her attention, making her halter her movements as she turns her face to the side, almost poetically. The music is what bounds people for life; a dedicated song, a handwritten piece, anything can be a reminder of the most atrocious or beautiful moments of life. In this case, a deep voice fills the air with the sound of words she had written years ago—stupid, lovesick, the type of song that would have made her giggle and now has her rolling her eyes while some kind of feeling settles in her gut.

Besides all memories that she shares with Chanyeol, songwriting is one of them. It is as if they are one and the same, like someone copied and pasted their artistic soul into the same person. Though, they are not quite like soulmates, breaking up with Park Chanyeol felt like the worst moment of her life, being ripped apart in half with what they had become. Second chances never came, too bitter because of the one thing that connected them. What had once been the reason behind their ‘hey, you like that song too?!’ became the end of their relationship.

Funny, considering Chanyeol was the first one to tell her nothing would happen to the band they dated…and he kept his promise, until she decided to leave for something ‘more of her own’. His own heartbreak heightened then, telling her if their friendship and the future of their group was meaningless to her. At the time, it was, and now that she is older she wonders just how much things could have changed if only they stopped competing against each other. Or, for the matter, trying to push their own beliefs on the other when they just wanted to change.

People grow…they can’t ever stay the same, and to expect that from someone is deadly for any type of relationship. Platonic or romantic.

That song he is singing is the first song they ever composed together. The tune? A mess. The lyrics? Too full of love. The memory? Enchanting.

She swears she can see the Chanyeol in their old apartment, shared with two other people, when she enters the practice room and immediately realizes her existence. An entire week has passed and yet, she cannot keep herself by his side for more than a second. She doesn’t want him to ask how she is doing, or ponder why she is obstinate and short-tempered now. It only comes to show that she is the same person that had left the group three years ago. However, his eyes soften, half-covered by the bucket hat on his head when his lips pout out to speak to her.

“It’s midnight. What are you doing here so late?”

She plays another note in her bass, throwing her head back and looking up at the sky. “Answer that same question first.”

“I was…uh…” He clears his throat after trailing his voice. “The equipment here is good and I wanted to try out some of the instruments without getting weird looks from anyone.”

Oh, right, how not to expect such a thing from the ever-talented Park Chanyeol, guitar player, bass player and singer, also leaving some trail of him in pianos and whatever he touches. Her life, included. She looks at him, then, pondering if she should comment about the song he was just singing. “I was here practicing.” She whispers, watching as he nods his head and trots over to the stage, pushing his backpack down on the floor before reaching over for the guitar. “Why don’t you take the microphone first?”

Chanyeol’s cheeks lift up in a smile at that, that infamous dimple appearing out of nowhere. “Why? Do you want me to?”

“You’re a singer hidden behind a drum-kit.” She tells him, stopping her motions on her bass before giving him a smile of her own. “I always told you, you should have been a back-up vocalist.”

His long fingers wrap around the microphone, as if pondering, and this is the way he is. He listens to people, to criticism, curiosity is just one of his traits. “…Ah, no, I’m not fitted for that position.” He tells her, looking ahead as if a crowd was in there, only to break his gaze and turn back to her. “I was meaning to tell you earlier this week that your music is sounding a whole lot better. Your technique has improved.”

“…I have had time to practice.” She confesses, aware of how her life has only revolved around music lately. For better or for worse. “I maintain my ground by saying I will only be fully pleased when I see you as a vocalist.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve heard me sing. I’m not that special.”

Like the hug of a person that smells just like them, not like perfume, not like body-wash, not like sweat or anything of the like. They smell like skin, soft and warm, like the place you belong in. That is how Chanyeol singing feels like. He never noticed it then, how all the anxiety she could have felt for the future was healed with just the sound of his voice, singing or not. “You are special.” She admits, standing up from her spot and cracking her knuckles. The common ache of a bassist. “I mean, you’re my ex, but I’m not stupid. I know talent when I know it. I sing like a dying rat, and you were the one to help me out with songs when we composed together.”

“You remember?”

“Of course I do!” She answers, pushing her hands in the depths of her pocket. “Sometimes I think of a rhyme and I am like: “Shit, this is so good” and then I realize I used it for our songs.”

Chanyeol chuckles at that, shaking his head and his whole body, like he does when he is extremely happy. “I do that, too.”

“Do you remember our first song?”

“…It’s cringe, though.”

“I know,” She answers, aware of how she would have expected him to simply press his mouth to the microphone and sing the words out. She sits by the edge of the stage by then, jumping down before shrugging. “I just wanted to remind you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Alone?”

Reaching for her bag in one of the seats, she nods. “I have my pepper spray, my taxi number and a few punches if someone tries to try me.” Chanyeol’s lips quirk up at that, as if he is always amused by her, or perhaps he knows her enough to acknowledge that she is, indeed, one of the strongest yet softest people he knows. “Go home safe, Chanyeol.”

“You, too.” He says in the microphone, earning a laugh from her that she tries to muffle, pushing the entrance doors open before being welcomed by the elongated hallway.

The best part is when she hears Chanyeol humming to himself, the tune of their first song together clear, solid, like he has never quite forgotten it.

She is not Chanyeol’s first love, she believes, but she is surely one of his most astonishing ones.

🥁

The commotion of the city is loud in the background, but she can’t bring herself to care when the entire world rotates around the fact that there is a Rolling Stone magazine editor in the room, a journalist, the best of the best, looking for a band to interview before the grand event. Seong Im had insisted on wearing a dress for that party near the beach, the big flowers on the fabric contrasting with her dark skin, but she was against prepping herself too much for the party. Maybe, she should’ve. It could have caused more of an impression on the dress-cladded journalist that was inspecting the talents around the party, their appearances and how they seem to act in such a spot after their brief performances.

For a moment, she pretends to concentrate on the scenery outside of the wide windows, though her eyes catch a glimpse of the journalist every once in a while. The sand is almost crystal clear, the waves moving with one another, glistening under the rounded and full moon. The sky is almost black, she realizes, the same shade of her ripped jeans, something just to keep in mind. However, when she looks towards the journalist’s table, she realizes Chanyeol is nearing her, looking far more put together than she does, with a black button down that shines—perhaps, glitter is the new fashion for him—and a tight pair of pants, perfect on his legs and his calves.

Her feet pick up their speed, as fast as she tries to live through life, moving to his side before wrapping her hands around his arm. Well, it was meant to be his arm, the one with the house and the rose tattooed on it, she recalls, remembering the time she held his hand when he got them done. Nonetheless, that is what she is holding—his hand, warm, soft, delicate, like he is used to wrapping his fingertips around hers, barely slotted together and yet, imminently there. Chanyeol brings back all the memories in a simple touch, like she forgot how safe she felt when they walked together, hand in hand, instead of walking alone in separate ways. The tattoos on his knuckles match well with her skin, with the bracelet around her wrist that he may have given her in the past and when she looks at him, she can only babble an apology.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Why are we holding hands?” Chanyeol asks, quirking his eyebrow up at their slotted hands, but the brief smile on his face speaks otherwise.

“I need you not to talk to the Rolling Stone journalist.” She tells him, placing her hands behind her back and she may as well tie them behind her back because there is no way in hell that by rushing to Chanyeol, she had held his hand. Some fish just don’t swim too far from the ocean. “…I have rehearsed my interview with her for the past week and I am about to approach her. I need to get that article. Please, just don’t.”

Chanyeol crosses his arms over his chest then, like he is trapping all his feelings in his chest. “I also want to be interviewed, silly.” He tells her, soon after rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Don’t look at his forearms, she tells herself, but she partially wonders if their couple tattoo is still written in his skin. An emptied, outlined heart in half, the one that unites with her left arm, while his is on his right arm. It’s still there, like it is too hard to forget the mess they had made. “It’s the Rolling Stone magazine. Anyone wants to be there in an article.”

“…You already have a bit of fame around the city. I don’t.”

“What’s a little bit more of fame?”

Pushing her lips upwards, she tries to cover the half of her tattooed heart on her arm. Had he noticed? “You start to sound like me.” She tells him, aware of how star-struck and thirsty for fame she can be. “You never did it for the fame.”

“I could’ve changed.” He prompts.

“I hope you didn’t.”

“Why?” Chanyeol questions and she tries not to think about the amount of times she held on to him, and suddenly wrapping her arms around him and talk about their lives sounds like the best idea. She hasn’t realized that not a single person has ever made her feel like Chanyeol, not pre-him, not past-him. Everything would have been better for them if only music had not gotten in the way and now, music is what unites them again.

It’s easier to lie, but there she is, being truthful because Chanyeol’s eyes are enough to capture her. Brown, lord, so brown that she feels lost in the forest that is him. His skin glistens, his youth radiates even through aging, like he will always be Chanyeol, but not hers. “Because you are what the music industry needs.” She reassures. “Hookers, alcohol and drugs are overrated, they are an aesthetic. Music shouldn’t be about the visual; it should be a lifestyle.”

“That’s the type of visual you liked, though.” He tells her, pointy in his words like he is trying to prove that she was half of the reason why they broke up. The rest is his fault, as well. “You wanted the rock lifestyle. Why can’t I have it now?”

“Is this your way of telling me you like hookers?” She tries not to get him too close, changing the subject while staring at him and Chanyeol’s smile quirks up, embarrassed in the way his cheeks tint.

“Why? Do you care?”

“I do.”

But he doesn’t let go. “Why?”

“Because you aren’t like what you’re trying to make yourself to be,” She tells him. “You are one of the few hopes I have in society, actually.”

Chanyeol smiles at that, half hiding into himself but he is unable to. Too tall, too elongated, misguided body-wise, like he holds this skeleton simply to protect his softened heart. Maybe, making a mistake with her had made him a better man. She likes to believe so. “All props to hookers, don’t get me wrong, but I got out of a romantic situation not too long ago and I realized I’m more of that type of person. I’m tired of casual dating and hook-ups.”

So, he had dated. It’s expected; handsome and charming. She shouldn’t be mad, but she would be lying if she said there isn’t a ghost of jealousy inside her. “I see,”

“What about you?”

“I have never been with a hooker, if that’s what you’re asking.” She answers, bringing a laugh out of him.

“I’m asking if you have dated after…” His words trail after that, trying to find his place to ask that question. Their mistake, as she likes to call it. “After us.”

Say you did. Say you did. Lie to him and say you did. “I went out on dates, but…nothing serious.”

“I imagined you would have gotten someone by now.”

“I don’t need anyone, let’s start there.”

“Oh, I know.” Chanyeol tells her, looking down at his hands before chuckling. “Rather, I think people would need you.”

She scoffs at that. “I’m a mess,” She admits, because this is Chanyeol she is talking to. His hands could never hurt her heart, at least not intentionally. “I doubt I’d be any help for someone.”

“You helped me.”

“With what?” She asks, aware that Chanyeol had helped her grow more than he realized, before and after their relationship.

“Finding my place in music. You leaving the group had me devastated, but it gave me direction.” And that is the beauty of Chanyeol, how he stands up and dusts himself off as he travels endlessly. Maybe, that is why he helped her so much, just like she helped him. He showed her that one bad song isn’t a bad album; a painful memory isn’t a lifetime worth of sadness. Some people have to move on, for their sake, for their happiness, to find the light and the will in the world.

“Chanyeol—”

The man looks to the side, as if ashamed, pointing at the direction of the journalist as he sighs. “Someone took our spot already.”

Another band is seated with the journalist, as if they belong there, as if they are the new legendary small group. Somehow, she doesn’t care. “I don’t care.” She says. “Fame isn’t for me anyways.”

“You think so?”

“It drained away my light in my hunt for it. I can only imagine what it will do if I reach it.” She answers, licking the inside of her cheek before humming. “Have you eaten?”

“I was thinking of ordering something just now,” He replies. “Want to join me?”

“Sure, we can catch up.”

His eyes, brown and deep, a forest that starts to clear, light up at that. “I would love that.”

🥁

With a lollipop placed inside her mouth, Seong Im is seated on the hood of their old car, in front of the venue in which they are going to play in. The night is packed, only a small group of people—friends and relatives alike—gathering to see the stars. Well, as rock-star as it can get to battle for a position in a discography. Instead, her band is much too occupied in talking about the other individuals in the competition. “I don’t know. He’s nice and all, but Chanyeol looks like the type of dude who fucks in front of a mirror just because he thinks he’s hot. He probably flexes, too.”

She presses her lips together, looking inside her box of guitar picks before sighing. “He isn’t.”

And she should have shut her mouth entirely and sincerely, simply because there is a moment of dull silence before she realizes that she has just confirmed that she has a way of knowing. She doesn’t look up, however, pretending to be torn in deciding between two picks before Seong Im kicks her side softly. “Hey, how would you know that?”

Hee Young is the next one to speak, braiding her hair and interrupting her voice warm-ups to reiterate. “She definitely knows. They dated for like two years.”

Two years and eight months, to be exact. Not that long now that she thinks about it, it could have gone for longer if only they had put themselves first, even before music. The reminder is definitely not soothing and now that she gets to hear Seong Im gasp with one arm wrapped around Andrew’s uninterested persona, she speaks up. “Why didn’t you tell us that? We thought you hated him!”

“I don’t,” She announces, shrugging her shoulders soon after at the memory of the nights in which pressing her forehead to his was the only moment in which her headaches would stop. That being poor with him was what had pushed her to want to be rich and successful. That diamond rings only seemed to shine bright if he was there. “I could never hate him.” She has tried to, and for a while when they were dating she thought she hated him, but the fire from his soul would always be eased by the rain of her. There would never be anything more comforting than knowing she really tried with him.

“…So…that’s the band you were in before.” Seong Im finishes, blinking rapidly before resting her palm against her forehead. “Why did you leave?”

“We didn’t break up in good terms, I guess.”

“And why don’t you hate him? You should, if you ended up badly.” Her roommate continues, making her roll her eyes and close the lid of her woodened box.

“Because I was different back then. I let everything take the best of me, we fought too much…” She replies, wondering if things would have been different had she not being so closed up in her taste of music and had Chanyeol been more connected to his roots, not as experimental as he wanted to be. One too risky, the other too safe. “But it happened because it had to happen. I am here with you guys because of it.”

Hee Young chuckles. “You were heartbroken for a few months; dare I say a year.”

“Well, music put me back on track.”

“And music made you lost the love of your life.” Hee Young retorts, earning a sigh from her.

“I’d lose that and much more to music. I’m sure he thinks the same.”

Seong Im pushes her weight off the car, taking her by the arm and looking around the street before pushing her towards the car nearby, coated in layers of water and soap, all indicator of someone washing it. The car is not as old as hers, but she has definitely seen it before—and has been in it, as well—, and just when she looks in front of her after watching the smile on Seong Im’s face, she realizes who is washing this car.

It is a good look, too.

His sweater is wrapped around his waist, leaving him in a tank top even through the cold night. He must be freezing, too, with his hands rubbing furiously at the window. Chanyeol seems to be having a hard time, a pool of water by his feet settling him down. His eyes turn back at the sound of heavy steps and a squeal, both coming from her, and when he notices her, his frown seems to erase slightly. He calls out her name in such a way that seems like a song, enough to take the oxygen away from her lungs and she realizes then that music has really taken her life away. This man could have easily been by her side, she could be wrapped in his arms in this cold night, but they are too far away from each other, exes at their finest.

He is still kneeling, trying to get that spot in the window when she speaks up. “Did a bird poop on your car?”

“You’re saying it as if it didn’t happen,” Chanyeol comments, bringing laughter up in her when she kneels by his side, taking the other cloth bathed in soap to help him clean whatever content is on the window. “I had to go get some water inside and clean it. Just how embarrassing would it be if the journalists here saw my car with some bird shit on it.”

“It’s iconic.”

“It isn’t.” Chanyeol argues, his body shivering, the goosebumps over his arms noticeable. It is then that she realizes she is staring at his profile, his recently dyed red hair a reminder of that conversation they had after practice one of these days, in which he asked her for tips on how he could dye his hair on his own. It looked good, actually. She pushes her body closer to his, in a position in which their arms are placed together, earning a gasp from him. “…You…”

She looks down at their arms, realizing that the heart had formed, making her hiss softly. “Yeah…”

“You didn’t get it covered.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want to know?” She questions, watching as Chanyeol places one hand on the side of his face, his elbow resting against his strong knee, staring at her as if he can’t believe it and with amusement he chuckles. He really can’t, as it seems.

“I didn’t cover it because I love you too much. You were my best friend before we dated, I can’t simply erase you like that.” He whispers, like he doesn’t even want the wind to know. The rivers inside her become troublesome, reminder of how she had always tried to push him out of her body, saying that they would have never worked out and that he was the one at fault for never understanding her. The toxicity of them came when they decided to work together…or when they became obsessed with growing. “Truth is that I didn’t expect you to keep it on.”

So, this is why she fell in love with him, because he is sentimental above anything else. Chanyeol had once told her he loved her, a thousand times at that, but the first one is special. Seated by a window, looking out at the snow, he said the warmest thing there could ever exist. He spoke about his demons, the insecurities that ate at him, how he tried to move on too fast…to be faster than life itself, and how that kept biting at him. What dresses him in toughness is unable to keep him from her, show the real colors of the man she has loved. Continues to love in the depths of her heart, too. “…It’s part of me by now.” She tells him. “If I covered it, I was afraid I would lose me.”

“You wouldn’t,” He tells her. “Because you’re not my half. You are more than that.”

“…I know.” She replies. “I wish I had known that sooner.”

Her knees are about to give in, just in time for Chanyeol to stand up and take a dry cloth, rubbing at the windows with ease. “I guess it happens to the best of us.”

“Being friends, dating, breaking up and one of them leaving the group because they couldn’t even stand the other?” She asks, making a smile appear on his face. “That’s not very common.”

“But it’s our story.”

“So?”

“That makes it better.”

The sound of her band name being called makes her turn around, albeit hesitantly, because she doesn’t want this moment to end. She is being called to get ready, earning a sigh from her when she stares back at Chanyeol, only to see him stare at her like he wants to learn her. Study her. He needs to keep her in his memories for when he is old and he is bound to forget. “I have to go now.” She says, walking backwards just in time to see him lift a thumb up.

“Good luck in there.”

But the toughest of lucks was losing a man like him.

🥁

The skies above mock her, shining with city lights and clouds and stars, all too bright for her, a reminder that success is not knocking at her door. The thick yellow jacket on top of her white hoodie is supposed to make her feel more at ease, even remotely happy, but giving her best on stage only to come up on third place was definitely a low blow for them. Andrew took it the best, celebrating getting such a spot, but the women in the group were devastated. The victory goes to Chanyeol’s band, she tries to process, happy yet a bit puzzled.

What would her group do now?

Sam had taught her how to smoke and she doesn’t do it at all, but right now it sounds like a great idea, going for a drive and stopping at the usual gas station simply to pick up some snacks. Much to her delight, however, the same man that she has been watching for the past month, talking and reconnecting like they will earn something from it, is fueling his car just at that moment. Just like her, he is wrapped in cozy clothing, the tips of his ears red, bringing a smile to her face when she pushes the box of cigarettes to the depth of her coat. Now, she doesn’t need them.

“What’s up winner?” She asks him, making him widen his eyes and press a hand to his chest. Chanyeol turns around to look at her, smiling at the sight of her, though a bit nostalgic.

“Doing great.”

“I’m glad.”

“What are you doing here?” He is the first to ask, leaning his body against his car. His arms are crossed over his chest and she still feels giddy at the reminder that under those clothing, a tattoo keeps them connected.

“I’m going to grab some snacks, you know.” She tells him, clicking her tongue soon after and nodding, as if nothing is wrong. Actually, she is healthy and she got some recognition from her hard work. Her band may not be fine, but the future may be brighter, with less debt and more fame.

“Good,” He says. “Actually, I was planning on asking you something.”

She nears him, copying his position against his car. “What would that be?”

His lips part majestically, though a bit confused in their approach. “Sam and I were talking, along with our groupmates, and we figured we could have two bassists. You could join us before we sign our contract with the new discography.”

Chanyeol may be her past and god, he was one hell of a good past, the ignition of her dream of music…but her friends were there for her when they had broken up, she created a new world and discovered that her story with Chanyeol was mistaken when they added another lover to their sheets and their hearts. Music. “I’m going to say no.” She denies. “I am happy with my guys. Nothing against you…or your band, but I am not betraying my own.”

“I expected you to say that.” The wind blows near them, moving the strands of his red hair, his cheeks getting touched by the gentlest of pink touches. Chanyeol rarely blushes but the wind serves to caress his tan skin. “You were always too loyal.”

“That’s a good thing. We dated, after all.”

“We did.” Chanyeol comments, hearing the sound of his car getting completely fueled before paying attention to the task at hand. “I wanted to ask you something else—”

“What would that be?” She quirks one eyebrow, aware of how Chanyeol’s deep voice is doing its best to look for her joints and her bones, drag her back into the beauty of him.

“Since we won’t be able to see each other almost every day from now on, I thought I could take you out on a date.” For old time’s sakes, and to mend what was once broken. Like split-ends, their split will never end, for they will always come back together. “…Not that you have to say yes.”

On the tip of her toes, she reaches forward to shorten the distance between the two, her lips touching his in one of those brief ‘good morning’ kisses she gave him when they just woke up. At the time, Chanyeol was not much of a morning person, but he must have lit up this entire night with the taste of coffee-brewed kisses. She smiles, showing a big part of her teeth when she says: “Did you really think I was going to say no?”

Caught red handed, Chanyeol wraps his arms around her waist, leaving his mouth slightly ajar to kiss her softly, like he wants to serve every night they spent alone in just one try, bring warmth to every corner of their souls. He wants the ‘us’ they crafted back, the one before music could get in between them. “No.” He whispers. “I missed you so much.”

For the first time in over three years, she can wrap her arms around his shoulders, rest her cold nose against his neck and breathe in his scent when she promises herself they can get through this, they can love each other again, not like they ever did, with one heart palpitating to connect them, creating music that they could only share with each other.

“Not more than how much I missed you.”

#chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol #exo scenarios #exo #kpop scenarios #writing #exo au #exo fluff #exo angst #chanyeol au #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol angst #drummer!chanyeol #tell me what you guys think please!

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iillusionsxbay · 4 years

Text

𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝑮𝒐 ||𝓞𝓲𝓴𝓪𝔀𝓪 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓽 ||

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐰: 𝐒𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡:

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐠𝐨 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

Y/n pov.

The constant sound of the life support beeping was the only thing that managed to keep my mind occupied. my clothes stained with the color red as well as the open cuts and brusises adding to the collection of the ones I self Implanted. I found myself pondering of what went wrong. My parents were great ones, supportive, always there for comfort when needed. Was it the time I was bullied? Or could it be the First year of my highschool life, where I met him. The tall guy with dark brown hair that managed to sweep perfect to the outside, his eyes were brown as well, I probably always managed to find myself lost in them. I Can't tell what I liked about him the most. His stupid smile, or his cocky grin, his narcissistic attitude that nobody could really handle, all of it I found attractive. It was by the second year he started to notice me, I watched all his games, seeing how much he adores the sport filled me with admiration. I wanted to be something or someone as amazing as him, so I signed up for the manager position. That's when we grew closer, I always found myslef staring at him, and him staringn at me. Was there something on my face perhaps? I never knew cause he never seemed to have wanted to approach me. That was until the school festival. When all of his teammates weren't arround he pulled me aside, and said the 3 words I never thought I would ever hear In my life time "I like you" My heart honestly never raced so fast before I felt like it was going to pop out of my chest.

Then before my very eyes we were a couple. The team supported it with a few teasing here and there but it made us laugh in the end.All the dates we went to, the things he bought me for my birthday, our first kiss, all these moments felt my heart and filled me with joy. So what went wrong? We never fought, that was until I felt myself growing insecure. With his popularity growing, I felt us getting more distant, him hanging out with his fangirls more then his own girlfriend. I started to believe I was going to be replaced and began staring at the mirror, and began eating less. Soon my parents noticed, of course they would when their daughter is slowly begining to look as equivalent to a bone, so I began eating again, but everything I ate I threw up. In hopes to look "beautiful" to him again. We walked home together one day, hand in hand and went to his place. He seemed to notice my pale face and asked. "What's wrong? You look sick" which I only replied with "nothing im alright" trying my best to smile. But he wasn't having it. "You're not you look like a zombie y/n." I felt a attacked, so I naturally darted back. "Well now you seem to notice, cause you seem to be so busy dealing with those fangirls of yours then!" This seemed to taken him a back, he frowned and looked at me, with probably one of the looks I'll never forget. "Im sorry but I cant just ignore them! You knew this was going to happen anyways, if you don't like it then leave!." When he said that, I felt mt heart shatter into a million peices completely withered away with a single sentence. The tears that trinkled down my face as I smiled sadly and ran. I went to the school and ran up to the rooftop, I didn't care if my feet hurt, or if i was out of breath, I wanted it to stop, the tears, this feeling, all of it. So I took a deep breathe before standing on the ledge gazing at the sakura trees, where we had our first kiss. The only feeling that washed through me was remorse and pain, I grabbed my note book and ripped open a peice of paper an wrote a note.

𝓢𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝔀

𝓢𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓱𝓸𝔀

𝓢𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮'𝓼 𝓷𝓸 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓾𝓽

𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷

𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶

𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝓘'𝓶 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂

𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶

𝓢𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂

- y/n

My fingers trembled as I held it in my hand, slowly placing it on the ledge, taking my shoes off palcing them down neatly to the side. I went back to the edge and stood there, closing my eyes and breathing in. Feeling my whole body tremble with fear, hearing the tiny voice behind me telling me "it's not too late" and "you can always turn back" I took one last look at the view smiling humming the soft tune to the song I loved so dearly and jumped.

Everything went black, all I heard was the ambulance, and screams as everything faded.

And thats how I'm here. Taking my last breaths. I know this, but the doctor wont tell me. My mother and father beside me crying their eyes out, asking me where they went wrong. But it wasn't them. They did everything in their power to raise their daughter, It was me, I could never live up to the expectations of beauty, and it killed me. I slowly turned my head to them and squeezed my mothers hand tight "I love you both so so much, it was not your fault but my own, im just glad your here with me" I could hear my mother sobbing, but I couldn't look her in the eyes the pain I already feel is too much seeing them would be unbearable. My fathers voice hitched, I knew he was trying not to break into tears, for my sake and moms. I closed my eyes and felt my fingers grow numb, as my whole life flashed before me again. I heard footsteps, so quick it caught me off gaurd. I kept my eyes closed untill I heard a familiar voice. "Y/n?" I slowly opened my eyes and saw him. The boy that I fell so hard for. The one that made me feel like I was on cloud nine. All I could do was smile, in attemtps to make him smile. Knowning that it wouldnt work, he made his way beside me cupping my cheek with his hand ever so gently. "Im sorry" he painfully spoke I felt something wet and warm hit my cheek as I looked him in the eyes, seeing him crying

"I didn't mean it, I didn't know y/n please don't go" he was trying notmto break infront of my parents that are already in pain. I weakly reach for the hand that touched my cheek and said "Sorry can't save me now, sorry I don't know how, sorry there's no way out" he shook his head, "that's not true you'll be fine y/n I promise you will be, and I promise I'll never leave you I'll ditch the fangirls. They don't matter, we can play volleyball together like we used to and go on dates, just please dont go" I felt his tears drop on me at a rapid pace, making me tear up too, maybe if I talked to him this wouldn't have happened. But thats too late. I pulled him in for a kiss, his lips were still so soft, but dry. I felt his hand he placed on my cheek begin to shake. I pulled away and smiled before weakily closing my eyes and taking a breath, forcing out my last words

"Call my friends and tell them that I love them And I'll miss them, I love you mom and dad, and Oikawa, dear I love you, and im so sorry" I felt my whole body grow numb and heard the life support grow silent I could hear Oikawa, scream for me, in hopes I would wake up and hug him. But sometimes fairytales don't come true. The light was soon replaced with darkness as everythingnwent quite

So this is it.

#haikyuu oikawa #Angst #oneshot #haikyuu!!#oikawa angst #SoundCloud

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welcometotheocverse · 3 years

Note

🌟 for Elliot pls?

:D aaaah! I’ve had him in the brain a lot lately okay sorry this got long And also im rewatching rn so its sorta season 1ish.

Elliot is Rory’s younger twin. He was given Christopher’s middle name. He’s mostly grateful it was the middle name.

He and Rory are super close. It was just the two of them ( and then Lane) The Twins That Read A Lot. Because they had each other they didn’t have much incentive to make friends outside of each other ( Elliot more than Rory) and extrapolating from the Pilot where Rory doesn’t seem like she has a lot of friends ( or any sans Lane) and is lowkey scoffed at for reading the assignment I’m gonna go with “other kids weren’t that keen on making friends with them either”

Rory’s the talkative one, he’s the quiet one. This is a bit of Rory also being protective of him/noticing when he looks overwhelmed and just...talking up a storm as is her wont and subtly getting attention away from Elliot. For a lot of the early season they’re not seen one without the other ( keeping in mind their arch is to learn it’s okay to have different dreams and even go different places )

Sorta shy and a bit more introverted than Rory. Once you become his friend however he pretty much would die for you and his face absolutely lights up when he sees you as opposed to his usual reserved nature and he talks to you albeit not as much as his twin ( unless hes super excited or talking about something he finds interesting then the resemblance kicks in lmao but thats the exception) its like a switch ( seen with Rory, Luke, and Lane in canon and Sophie/Paige in their xover)

Likes hanging out at Luke’s. They both sorta enjoy... being quiet around each other. Elliot thinks he has a really calming vibe …when Taylor’s not there.

Ms Kim doesn’t like him because he’s a boy so he’s not allowed at Lane’s like Rory is ( honestly the feeling’s mutual bc “I’m pretty sure locking you up for days and keeping you from school falls under child abuse also wtf” and lowkey the girls are like “lets just keep you not in the house” Lane might be closer to Rory but they still talk music together. She’s part of the reason his music taste actually started deviating from Lorelai’s and Rory’s.)

He doesn’t like unfair treatment of other people. It really gets to him. Examples are Ms. Kim to Lane and his grandparents and father to his mom. Later examples are Mitchum Huntzberger, and Marty. ( he’s pretty unimpressed with Marty and how his feelings for Rory make him act in general tbh but what he does with Lucy is just...it really bothers him he’s adamant that Rory should tell Lucy the truth.)

Highkey he has about zero patience for bad/toxic parents partly bc of his own feelings about Christopher and to an extent his grandparents that he keeps minimizing so they get projected on...everyone else with bad parents lol.

Logan’s still a bit amazed that this shy soft spoken kid he met in his junior year went off like “He’s not your fucking property” when Mitchum went on his “You’re available when i say you’re available” tirade ( Elliot was ngl intimidated/scared of Mitchum who pretty much went “Who the hell are you??!” but Logan’s his friend and that wasn’t okay and he kept eye contact with the asshole until Logan diverted his attention back to him/the fight they were having and made sure he at least told Logan afterwards because “but he shouldn’t..” and “he shouldn’t have” and “No! No..it’s not Okay. “)

But also like constantly “it’s not a big deal” when it comes to his aforementioned feelings about Christopher and pretty much anything he might be angry about.

Lowkey spends a lot of time Rory goes through relationship drama between “????” and “wowww dodged a bullet” Rory throws pillows at him for the latter because “If I’m gonna rant at you El, you could at least give me sympathy.”

He does have some insecurities about his orientation born out of just..f.eeling othered due to isolation and also some stuff he’s heard his dad say.

He figures out he’s asexual before he figures out he’s aromantic and has to deal with a lot of “Are you sure?” and “is that..is that normal?” from some townsfolks before he figures out Luke can scare them off and he lowkey spends a lot of time at the dinner during this time. Luke smiles at him and gives him muffins tho he’ll deny deny deny if you mention it.

A bit more sensitive than Rory like on the pilot episode when he notices Lorelai is worried about Chilton/having to ask her parents for money he stops at the base of the stairs and asks “is...everything okay mom?” and is kinda just in tune with how the people he cares about are feeling/picks up on things like that.

He...doesn’t super like his grandparents because of how they treat his mother. Emily already made him a bit anxious because of her passive aggressive nature ( he’s giving me some anxiety vibes tbh) and the fact that he thought the fact that his mom kept them away sorta ominous. A lot of season 1 is him looking down at his plate and tensing with every “your mother’s golf clubs are in the attic along with the rest of her potential” and Richard’s “he ( Christopher) always was a smart one that boy, you two must take after him” and “as a maid with all your brains and talents” and it sorta...yeah he spends a lot of time looking at his plate and swallowing resentment. There are times where it gets better but overall he’s never completely at ease around them. He’s very quiet but civil around them even as he grows some affection and builds bridges with them along Lorelai and Rory. And I haven’t even figured out the fallout with the thing they pull at the wedding.

Emily at least once asked off handedly why Elliot wasn’t seeing anyone and I’m still figuring out if she says something like “that’s not normal” before Lorelai or Rory intervene.

(( Full disclosure Emily reminds me a bit too much of my own relationship with my mom and its really hard to write her favorably though I at least try to be fair. So Elliot is sometimes a bit harsh on her and very in Lorelai’s corner when Emily and Richard are...less than nice. ))

Sort of a mamma’s boy. Rory and Lorelai have their special connection but so do Elliot and Lorelai. Rory was a bit more extroverted and would play/hang out with Lane while Elliot was perfectly content as a babie curling up with his mom and reading. It worried Lorelai a bit, how hard it was for him to reach out ( she never had that moment she had with Rory and Lane of “my kid has a friend” with him) but he always had Rory yknow so she calmed herself with that. Sometimes when Rory’s with Lane he’ll hang out at the Inn and work there. He somehow got in to Michel’s good graces ( “because you are quiet and unobtrusive” and got him to teach him French

Very tactile. When he’s getting nervous Rory will reach out and grab his hand or Lore will put her hands on his shoulder and he’ll calm down. He does the same when wanting to comfort friends or just wanting to show affection ( will lean on Finn and Colin a lot as he gets closer to them or accept that they’ll just throw an arm around him)

Meeting the LAD bridgade kids makes social events with his grandparents so much easier like ohmygod subparties with Logan Colin Finn and Rory become lifesavers. ( its not so much the drinking as having someone you can laugh with while dodging your grandparents friends and the girl they told to look for you yknow)

He has more resentment towards Christopher than his sister and doesn’t see him with the rose colored glasses Rory sees him in their younger years. His absence hurts him a lot. He hides it well and is nice enough towards him because he loves Lorelai and Rory and wants them to be happy/have a good time but if you catch him on a bad day you might get a rant about how little Christopher knows about them and how little he was there and “he just drops by, spends like a day with us and leaves yknow...it’s...and we’re supposed to be happy???” and the fact that he doesn’t wanna tell Rory or Lorelai bc he thinks it’ll upset them just sorta...makes it worse.

And then at some point Christopher pops off with “and how long are you gonna entertain this phase of his Lore, a boy his age should be dating” and while Rory’s making angry noises and Lorelai’s saying “Outside. Now” ( though they don’t know the twins are listening) he just gets...this thin unsurprised smile and...yeah it’s not great.

Very supportive of people he loves. He’s constantly telling Rory through the Chilton years that she’s smart enough, more than smart enough to get through this and helps her study. He makes sure he tells Lorelai he loves her or hugs her if he can tell the dinners are a bit hard on her. Honestly a total cream puff. The resentment for his grandparents and father is mostly buried and comes out like when he’s upset/they do something that provokes it. Mostly he’s a really soft boy and kinda soft spoken, loves reading about science and space ( he balances out Rory’s preference for literature and history though they both like poetry and Elliot occasionally reads prose as Rory lets him infodump sometimes about science journals) and loves his friends so so dearly. Will get angry a la Beware The Nice Ones if you hurt them though the first thing he’ll do is comfort them/try to cheer them up.

He loves Stars Hollow but being the only aroace person he knows of there ( and fielding well intentioned “are you sures?” and “oh honey you’ll find someone someday”s and just..alot of early 2000s Star Hollow-ness ( “Hey kiddo you gonna bid on a basket this year?” “oh you’re getting handsome, gonna find yourself a girl for the starlight festival?” “is he..youknow?” is just...a lot? He wants to spread his wings and find his place/people like him/feel less isolated.

He still loves his town though as its his home and raised him his sister and in a way his mother. He visits while he’s at Yale ( the distance helps tremendously as does the ability to just...leave again) like Rory and says hi to Miss Patty and Gypsy and Andrew ( he loves Andrew omg. One of the few people who didn’t just assume he and Rory were always reading the same books) He helps the 30-Something gang find jobs/fine tune resumes though im not including anything else form ayit and checks in how they’re doing bc..its still his town. They’re his family. “my nuts-o, extended...well meaning but sometimes overly invested and too-pushy-and-slightly-overbearing family.” even as he dreams of getting out a lot and once he does he...really likes it. He loves them

He goes to Yale because Rory goes to Yale (because again the whole Learning To Be Independent From Your Twin...kind of a slow process for him) and gets sibling-adopted by Finn and Colin in a turn of events he’s pretty much confused over like im p sure they were like “hes ours now” and Elliot was like “im ...you’re...w..what?” and Logan who Knows Finn and Colin is like “don’t fight it” and lowkey adopted him too.

Im cutting myself off bc this got Long and im sorry lol

Thank you so much for the ask <3

send me a ✨ and i’ll tell you about a random OC

#my ocs #Elliot Gilmore #about Elliot

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marvinswriting · 4 years

Text

Loud

prompt: my dog hates the fireworks on 4th of july, do you think tinies (cough, janis, cough) hate it too?

my poor bby, and yeah, probably ALSO I GOT THIS ASK LIKE, JULY SECOND BUT IM HERE POSTING IT NOW AND THAT'S CALLED PUTTING IN THE WORK TO FINISH MY WIPS INSTEAD OF STARTING A NEW ONE, its a rare occurrence.

Fourth of July is a shitty holiday if you ask Janis. Why do you need to set off loud fireworks just to brag about freedom? And why do fireworks have to be so loud? Surely you can design them to be just as pretty but a little quieter.

She was with Damian, Cady, Aaron, and the plastics. They were at the Heron's because Cady's neighbors did some cool firework shows.

Janis never left the house for the fourth of July. Some years she'd hang out with Damian, but he knew how much she hated the fireworks so most times she stayed home, in bed.

Unfortunately, this year she had been cornered by Regina and Aaron begging her to come. She doesn't know why she said yes, but as she sat in the palms of Damian's hands as they all watched the sky grow dim, she was mentally preparing for the worst.

Janis could tell Regina was nervous too. Something Janis distinctly remembered when she was plastic, that Regina George hates fireworks. Maybe as much as Janis. The two of them would hang inside together the whole day, earplugs in and music blasting.

But Regina for the most part seemed to have outgrown that.

Janis, on the other hand, did not. She had an arm wrapped around Damian's finger as the group watched the sunset.

Janis knew Damian was worried about her tonight. It had been a while since she had been with a group for fourth of July. And not to mention the fireworks were only across the street this time.

Janis tried not to think of it as she tuned into the conversation going on around her.

Aaron was complaining about how he should have gotten earplugs and the three tinies were gonna go deaf. Janis laughed a bit, nodding.

The group continues on with their talks and Janis only half listened.

The sunset slowly faded away to navy blue swirls mixed into dark clouds.

Janis watched Regina get tense and it made her feel a bit better that she wasn't the only one freaking out about this a bit.

The first familiar hiss took all of that confidence away as Janis ducked down behind Damian's curled fingers. He laughed softly, cupping his hands more, allowing her to sink down further.

There was a loud boom, followed by bright and beautiful colors, and for a second Janis though it would be okay. She lifter herself further out from behind Damian's fingers, watching the bright colors fizz away. From her house, all she can hear are the pops, no real beauty.

But then more came. One after the other loud bangs all around.

It was a lot.

Janis's head hurt.

She could vaguely hear Regina ask Karen to take her inside and Janis knew she should do the same, but she was too concentrated on the forever ringing in her ears.

The pretty flashing lights all around her suddenly meant nothing.

Too much noise.

Too many flickering colors.

Too many people cheering.

The hand beneath Janis shifted as Damian placed her silently in his pocket. She dipped into the pocket without protest, trying to escape the overload of noises and sights and-

Her head was spinning and her ears were ringing.

Sombody needs to invent quiet fireworks.

"Janis?"

It was quieter.

Damian had followed Karen inside.

Janis popped her head out, cringing as another bang sounded from outside.

Damian's hand scooped her out, placing her onto the table next to Regina. "You okay?"

Janis couldn't tell if it was her heart or her head that was pounding. It very well could be both. The counter beneath her felt cool, but not as cold as the airconditioning. It was a harsh contrast to the heat outside. Each boom made Janis curl up on herself a little more but- it was better in here by far.

"Yeah." She said after a while.

"Why did we do this." Regina groaned.

"It was literally your idea!" Janis said turning to the girl.

Damian laughed. "If they can still fight with each other, they'll be fine."

As if the world was out to directly contradict his point, a series of loud booms went off, one after the other.

Janis stiffened, trying not to jump with each noise. She knew she wasn't in danger, yet her fight or flight was kicking in hard.

It felt as though her brain was trying to concentrate on everything at once.

The ac had kicked on again, a cold breeze blowing past Janis.

Regina was mumbling something about a headache.

The front door opened, Cady's voice filling the room.

Janis was staring at the surface beneath her, trying to memorize the pattern in the counter. To concentrate on anything other than the noise.

Damian was talking, maybe to her, maybe not.

Aaron was placed on the counter next to her and Regina.

There were still booms.

The counter was tiled, small little pieces of polished stone sat underneath Janis.

Another boom.

The rocks were all warm neutral colors.

Three more quick booms.

They were all uniformly square-shaped.

Everyone was talking.

It wasn't working.

The room felt like it was lacking air. Every deep breath Janis took wasn't nearly as filling as it should be.

A familiar hand slipped underneath her. Janis didn't fight it. She knew it was Damian without looking up. She was worried about other things.

She shut her eyes, trying to will the headache to go away. She could feel Damian hold her close and walk somewhere, but the motion just made her nauseous.

This is why she stays home.

Fucking Regina, convincing her this would be a good idea.

Wherever Damian went was quieter, but the headache was still there.

Janis could hear a ghost boom echo through her head.

She should be in bed right now.

Texting Damian, under the blankets, earbuds in.

Janis leaned closer to Damian's chest, gripping his shirt tightly. She tried to concentrate on the fabric in her hands, ignoring the buzz in her head, the way the world spun when she opened her eyes. She focused on the shirt Damian was wearing. The way it felt gathered in her fists, and against her face.

Damian was humming.

Its the first thing she noticed once her breathing felt normal.

She couldn't hear the fireworks over the soft hum coming from Damian.

She didn't know what song or tune it was, but it was nice.

Janis looked around. They were in Cady's room, Karen and Regina were there too. Karen was holding Regina in her hands while sitting on Cady's bed. Damian stood by the doorway.

"Cady and Aaron are still downstairs," Karen says when she notices Janis looking over. "It's quieter up here, volume emoji, shh face emoji."

"You okay, Jan?" Damian asks, holding her up so she's eye level. "Things got unbearably loud for Karen and I, I can only imagine how you guys felt."

Regina groans in response. Janis let out a breath laugh. "Yeah, me too, Gina."

Damian smiles. "Wanna leave for the night? You can stay with me."

Janis thought about it for a moment. It wasn't late, but she was coming down from her adrenaline high fast, and the crash was inevitable.

"Sure." She said finally.

Damian nods before shifting Janis so she was cupped to his chest with one hand. They both said their goodbyes to Karen and Regina, who didn't seem to be doing much better than Janis, before Damian head downstairs. Aaron, being the lucky bitch, seemed fine, but both he and Cady were understanding as they left.

As Damian made way to his car, Janis already felt her eyelids get heavy. There were still fireworks going off, but they were in the distance, not directly outside. Damian was humming again and Janis couldn't help but smile.

Yeah, fourth of July sucks. And yeah, today was no exception to past years, but that didn't mean the night couldn't end great. The gang can find a time to hang out altogether when there's not an overwhelming amount of loud noises. For now, falling asleep with Damian didn't seem like the worst idea for the books.

not the best ive ever done but hey,,, its content lmao

tag list <3 @realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

#g/t mean girls #g/t writing #Giant/tiny #tiny janis #tiny regina #tiny aaron #giant damian #giant karen #giant cady #giant gretchen-mentioned #shes there but like- i forgot to give her lines #whoops #g/t

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peach-mangos · 4 years

Text

New Year’s Eve

☾ yoo kihyun/im changkyun ☾ holiday fluff/fluff/humor/meet cute/neighbors au...aka the changki new year’s eve au no one asked for lmao ☾ 2.6k ☾ can also read here

“What do you want?”

“Well good morning sunshine—at least you’re up, kind of surprised I must say” Jooheon chuckles on the other side of the line.

“Yeah well—pretty hard to get any sleep when the whole population on this damn apartment hall is up and about causing a ruckus” Changkyun grumbles, and just as he throws open his apartment door, a group of teenage kids zoom past him blowing party horns and leaving in their wake a trail of party tinsel.

“Kyunnie, it’s New Year’s Eve, lighten up. Of course people are excited and happy, they’re celebrating the end of a long ass exhausting year, new beginnings are always welcomed” Jooheon tells him, and Changkyun can’t help but roll his eyes.

He heads back into his apartment to retrieve a trash bag from his kitchen drawer and makes his way out once again.

“You know, in my opinion—every day is an opportunity for a new beginning—don’t understand why everyone and their damn mother lose their shit over this New Year bullshit”

“You know, you used to love celebrating New Year’s Eve until—”

“Whatever, I’m taking down all these damn decorations” Changkyun says cutting off his friend, “the regulations of our apartment complex doesn’t allow them for safety purposes”

“Dude” Jooheon laughs, “isn’t that a little too much?”

“I’m sorry, was there a reason for this call?” Changkyun asks shoving his cellphone between his ear and shoulder while trying to hold open a trash bag in one hand and ripping off “Happy New Year” decorations off the hallway walls with the other.

“Right, get showered, get dressed—we are going out tonight”

“Like hell we are” Changkyun chuckles bitterly and continues making his way down the hall ripping off decorations with a fiery purpose.

“Listen man, I know it’s been hard for you to celebrate New Year’s ever since Soobin—but damn it, we are doing something this year. We all let it slide last year because it was still pretty fresh, but not this year. You are not gonna sit in that apartment in your old man flannel pajamas and greet the year alone and bitter”

“Are you done?” Changkyun asks making his way towards the elevator.

“Yes” Jooheon concedes harrumphing at his friend.

With that, Chankgyun hangs up on his best friend and tries to close off the gate to the elevator.

“HOLD THE ELEVATOR PLEASE!” someone yells, and usually—well, usually Changkyun isn’t one to be an asshole— but he really isn’t in the mood to share an awkward elevator ride with some random stranger at the moment. So instead of holding the gate open as the unsuspecting stranger had asked, Changkyun rushes to close it.

As his crummy luck would have it though, the trash bag full of holiday decorations he was on his way to get rid of gets stuck between the gate, giving the stranger just enough time to reach the elevator.

“I know you heard me” the guy accuses, narrowing his eyes at Changkyun.

“Oh, sorry , I’m a little hard of hearing” Changkyun lies adjusting his hoodie and begrudgingly making space for the man to get in. He hates the fact that he has to do a double take because —upon closer inspection—his new elevator companion is quite the looker. Dressed to the nines beneath his cream colored winter coat in a silky red button up dress shirt buttoned down all the way to the center of his chest, nice black crispy ironed dress pants accompanied by shiny polished black dress shoes and hair slicked back.

“Are you a little blind as well, you literally saw me rushing towards you”

I wish, Changkyun thinks, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “You know, you’re kind of loud for such a small person” he muses, making the tiny handsome man blush.

“And you’re a little bit of a dick, but that’s none of my business, is it? Could you press the floor button now, please?”

Laughing at how easy it had been to ruffle the guys’ feathers, Changkyun obediently moves over and carries on with pressing the button to the apartment complex’s lobby.

Not even a minute into the elevator ride and the damn metal contraption begins to make a startling noise followed by staggering movements that cause both men to topple forwards in loss of balance.

“The hell was that?” the stranger asks, eyes wide and panicked.

“Think the elevator broke, genius” Changkyun sighs leaning against the metal wall.

“Broke? BROKE?!” Mr. Slicked Back hair wails, “it can’t be broke, I’m going to be late for work? Isn’t there an emergency button or something ?” he asks looking around franticly for the emergency button. He finds it behind a small door next to the button selection also containing a red emergency phone. “Hello, this is Yoo Kihyun from apartment 3B, can someone help us?”

Changkyun chuckles because of course, he’s the new guy that moved into 3B.

“Hey, 3B—phone doesn’t work, genius. Can’t you see it’s not even connected?” Changkyun tells him rolling his eyes.

“Well, do something, don’t just stand there!” 3B wails slamming back the phone into place.

“This happens every other week dude, they’ll get us out eventually” Changkyun shrugs, and the guy, Kihyun visibly deflates.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” he asks defeatedly.

“Could be a couple of hours, to be honest”

Kihyun staggers back into the opposite metal wall and groans, “couple of hours?” he whispers in disbelief. He runs a hand through his hair and gasps, as he looks up he notices an opening and walks over to slap Changkyun on the chest.

“Look, up there, there’s an escape door—you seem stronger I’m not even going to lie, and my shoulders are much narrower than yours—think you could maybe lift me up?” Kihyun asks.

“First of all, ow—your rings, asshole” Changkyun whines rubbing at his chest, “Second, I mean I guess I could, but that thing looks like it’s bolted shut man”

“Doesn’t hurt to try” Kihyun tells him already shrugging off his coat, and Changkyun can’t help but roll his eyes.

“This job so damn important you’re willing to squeeze out of an escape door in an old and faulty elevator?” Changkyun asks groaning as he awkwardly tries to lift Kihyun up. He isn’t that much taller than the guy, he doubts he’ll be able to reach the trap door even with Changkyun lifting him.

As Kihyun struggles to make his hands reach the ceiling, something slips out from around his neck and out of his shirt slapping Changkyun in the face.

“You’re a groupie ?” Changkyun asks, narrowing his eyes at the shiny VIP pass, voice full of judgement.

Kihyun freezes in his arms.

“Put. Me. Down” he bites out.

Changkyun is quick to do as he’s told and let’s Kihyun slide down and out of his arms.

Once his feet are back on the floor, Kihyun immediately walks away as far away as possible from Changkyun, hiding his VIP pass and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just wondered” Changkyun tells him truthfully.

“Why the hell do you have a trash bag full of party decorations?” Kihyun asks instead.

“Took them down from our hallway, we aren’t allowed to hang decorations like that. It’s against the regulations of the complex” Changkyun tells him as a matter of fact.

“Why is that any of your concern? Why is it up to you to police the way people enjoy their holiday? God, of course I get stuck in an elevator with the goddamn grinch of the apartment complex. Who hurt you dude?”

“Ex fiancé” Changkyun tells him, a sad smile on his lips, “two years ago, to the day, actually. Cheated on me the night of our engagement party with who I thought was one of my best friends”

“Well fuck” Kihyun groans blowing out an awkward breath and sits down on the little wooden bench lining one of the walls of the elevator. “Fuck, I’m sorry man—“

“It’s alright, it’s whatever now, you know? But yeah, you’re right. Did turn me into a bit of a grinch, which kinda sucks because I used to love celebrating New Year’s with my best friends” Changkyun confesses.

“I never understood the concept of cheating” Kihyun sighs, “if you feel like you no longer have strong feelings for the person you’re with, just tell them and set them free. Don’t hurt them and waste their time. It’s selfish and plain old mean” he tells him.

“Sounds like you have strong opinions on the subject as well then” Changkyun muses.

Kihyun smiles and stands up.

“You said it’d be a couple of hours right? Well then, I guess we’ll just have to have a party of our own. Rediscover your love for the New Year’s celebration. Come on, we’ve got decorations “ Kihyun says coming over to pull out the holiday decorations trash bag from his fingers.

“But the—” and the withering look Kihyun levels him with has Changkyun shutting up immediately and pliantly handing over the bag and it’s contents.

“Come on grumpy, start putting these banners up” Kihyun demands shoving an array of banners onto his arms. He then rummages through the bag and manages to find a pair of party hats. Making a small noise of triumph, he walks over to strap the red one on Changkyun, smiling when it earns him an eye roll.

“You are something else, 3B”

In comfortable companionship, both men decorate the elevator to their best ability with the few decorations they have, Kihyun occasionally humming random tunes.

“So what do you do for a living?” Kihyun asks as he strings tinsel around.

“I’m a comic book illustrator”

“Oh, is that so? Draw something for me then” Kihyun demands, pulling out a pen and paper pad from his bag, and Changkyun has begun to realize Yoo Kihyun from apartment 3B is quite the demanding fella.

“You’re so bossy” Changkyun says with a chuckle, he takes the man’s pen and pad nonetheless and begins to draw. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Well for starters, I’m not a groupie” Kihyun says pointedly. “I’m a singer, well back up singer right now. It’s why I have this pass, I’m supposed to be performing at the ball drop on New Year’s Eve in Times Square” he sighs sadly.

“Sing something for me then, so I can concentrate on your drawing” Changkyun laughs and Kihyun shakes his head furiously.

“No way man, maybe if we get out of this damn elevator you can come watch me perform instead”

Changkyun shoots Kihyun a look and both burst out in laughter.

They carry on talking for hours about the randomest things. From their earliest childhood memories to likes and dislikes to the reasons why they’re both in New York.

“Are we ever gonna get out of here?” Kihyun sighs defeatedly, “not that you aren’t wonderful company, but I’ve already missed the rehearsal. I’m sure it’s nearing ten p. m, god, I’m really going to miss my chance to perform at Times Square” he laments.

“I’m sorry dude—but hey, look we still have time before you have to go on, you said your performance is at 11:30, right? Perhaps by then” Kihyun gives Changkyun a, ‘thanks for trying’ look and smiles.

“You done with that drawing then?” Kihyun asks and Changkyun laughs nodding his head.

“Here, happy New Year’s” Changkyun laughs handing Kihyun his illustration of him frantically yelling for help earlier in the elevator clutching onto the emergency phone for dear life.

“You are insufferable, I hope you know” Kihyun laughs taking the drawing from his hands. “But you’re actually pretty good, this is so intricate, how do you do that?” he says voice full of awe.

Changkyun just shrugs rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

“We’re supposed to be having a party” Kihyun comments, then stands up and begins to narrate his movements.

“The handsome young singer scanned the room, when suddenly, his eyes made contact with another handsome young man”

Changkyun tolled his eyes but stood up.

“They stared at each other for a moment, tentatively smiling at one another” at this point Kihyun shoots Changkyun a shu smile and he can’t help but birst out into a fit of laughter.

“Tentatively!” Kihyun exclaims laughing as well.

“Okay, okay—how about now?” Changkyun asks trying his best at a tentative smile.

“Eh, guess it’ll do” Kihyun teases. “We finally cross the room, just as everyone starts to count down…” Kihyun comes closer to Changkyun, smiling and begins to count. “Ten, nine, eight, seven” Kihyun’s words are barely above a whisper now, and Changkyun feels likes his face is on fire. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or where to look, so he settles for Kihyun’s eyes, which—kind of a mistake. A feeling of being able to lose himself in that pair of warm brown eyes settles over him and he really thinks, fuck it, it’s the New Year. If he were to kiss this man right here, it would be a perfect end to the year. “Six, five, four, three, two—”

Just as Kihyun is about to close the distance between them, the elevator shakes once again throwing both men backwards as it descends properly once again.

Both men clear their throats once the doors to the elevator open, and a group of tenants cheer.

“See, told you I’d get it fixed—and it only took what, leight hours” their landlord cheers, and several tenants erupt in a chorus of annoyed ‘shut ups’ and ‘took you long enoughs’.

“Oh my god, I can still make it, if I hurry”

“Then you should probably head out” Changkyun tells Kihyun clearing his throat.

“I uh—yeah, I’ll see you around. Happy New Year” Kihyun tells him as he rushes out the hallway.

“Yeah. See you around” Changkyun sighs making his way back to the elevator. “Hold that for me will you Mrs. Jensen”

And as Changkyun makes his way back into that damned elevator he notices a rubber pink balance bracelet on the ground.

Fuck.

He picks it up and rushes out of the elevator once more irritating a few dozen of his neighbors in the process and runs out hoping he can make it to Kihyun in time.

Turns out, he does make it to Times Square in time, he barely catches Kihyun on his way up the stage.

“HEY! 3B!” he exclaims.

Startled, Kihyun turns around, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a silent gasp.

“You’re—what? What are you doing here?” Kihyun asks.

“I uh—well I found this, figured it might be yours. I don’t know” Changkyun laughs.

“How did you even get back here?”

“Security is actually so bad? They think I’m the band’s drummer” Changkyun laughs.

“You came all the way out here—in your pajamas, I might add—to hand me my bracelet?”

“It says it’s for balance, didn’t want you out there performing without it. And who knows, maybe it’s good luck. What do I know?” Changkyun mumbles, now blushing slightly.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you” Kihyun laughs taking the bracelet from Changkyun’s hands.

And he’s not sure what gives him the courage to do what he does next, but “ you also forgot this in the elevator,” he says. In one swift movement, he leans up to press a kiss to Kihyun’s lips, pulling him in by his dress pants belt loops. It takes Kihyun about 0.01 seconds to respond, clutching fiercely only the fabric of Changkyun’s hoodie.

“I’m—yeah okay, thanks for that” Kihyun says in a bit of a daze once he’s pulled away, “I’m glad you remembered that” he says clearing his throat.

Changkyun shoots him a million wat smile and presses a light peck to his lips once more.

“Go knock them dead, tonight, I’m your groupie” Changkyun jokes.

“Go!” Kihyun says laughing heartily and Changkyun supposes that maybe new beginnings really are welcomed.

#monsta x fic #changki fic #monsta x #changki #mine: fic #mine: changki fic #yoooo first mx fic #im so happy

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taexual · 5 years

Text

HOLIC - 21 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: angst + strong language

words: 4k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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You woke up the next morning, knowing very well that the apartment was empty without having to get out of bed to check. Everything just felt different when Jaebum wasn’t here with you; emptier, even, somehow. Even if the two of you haven’t gone to sleep fighting, you still felt lonely in the apartment without him but in today’s case, your confusing exchange last night certainly made everything feel worse.

Forcing yourself out of bed – because you craved water after all the drinking last night – you checked the time on your phone and were surprised to see that it was well after ten in the morning. Since it was Sunday today, you didn’t put it past Jaebum to go out jogging early in the morning, but he should have been back by now.

Not wanting to think that he was avoiding you again – maybe staying out with his friends was starting to become like second nature to him and he was this close to actually moving out of this apartment – you focused on preparing your breakfast instead. However, you didn’t have any plans today and you could only stay focused on corn flakes for so long before you got distracted by the most useless stuff – this time, it was a new notification on your phone.

It was just a tweet that one of your favorite artists had just posted, but your heart rate already picked up. You couldn’t lie to yourself; you were absolutely hoping it was going to be a text from Jaebum but, of course, it was something else. You should have known how unlikely it was for him to text you right now.

Ever since you went out to see Jiho and ended up at Mark’s bar, Jaebum had been acting weird. Starting with his random burst of anger when you mentioned hanging out with Mark, and ending with his seemingly pointless statement about how you and Mark were “friends” last night, you were more confused than ever.

Kiera’s words from last night replayed in your head – she thought that Jaebum might have been acting weird around you because he was uncomfortable with you knowing so much about him—and his friends—and perhaps she was right – but, even though Kiera’s observations made sense 95% of the time, you had a feeling that Jaebum fell into the remaining 5% category.

You couldn’t figure him out and you were living with him – and sometimes it seemed as though Jaebum couldn’t figure his feelings out himself – so there was virtually no chance of Kiera knowing better. Then again, perhaps you’d been blinded by your constant arguments and your—as much as you hated to admit it—budding feelings for him, so you couldn’t see the situation clearly. Not to mention, you’d already come up with so many theories of why he was the way he was, it was starting to become difficult to find the real him -- the Jaebum that you were perhaps yet to fully meet.

And while it always upset you to realize that even after seeing him every day since you moved in together, you still barely knew the real him, what was truly annoying about this situation was that your job was, essentially, to capture people’s emotions. To understand them. You were a photographer – well, you wanted to be one but, clearly, it was taking some time since you haven’t been able to find the time to photograph anything lately – and you always thought you were somewhat good at reading people’s faces. And you failed profoundly when it came to recognizing what Jaebum was feeling.

It was hurtful and unfair that you had to try to hard so figure Jaebum out – while your emotions always showed on your face as clear as day – but perhaps you—and the hidden masochist inside of you—enjoyed the continuous pain he caused you by being cryptic and refusing to talk to you. Maybe just like Jaebum, who – at least, according to Suji; although God knew how much you could have trusted her words – was attracted to people who could “put him in his place” or he was going to get bored, you were also attracted—and intrigued—by the mystery surrounding your roommate.

At the end of the day, it was clear that Jaebum never let people in and you basically forced your way into his life with a damn sledgehammer. Perhaps you’d really left him no choice but to open up to you and now he was slowly distancing himself from you because he wasn’t actually ready for you to enter his life like that.

The saddest thing was, you weren’t sure if he’d ever be ready for you and you absolutely weren’t sure if falling into the mystery that was Jaebum wasn’t going to kill you.

And there went your corn flakes. You could never focus on anything else; Jaebum always lingered in your mind.

Since you assumed Jaebum was with Jackson again – therefore, it was very likely that he was recording his music – you figured you could use this alone time to catch up on your own photography that you’ve neglected because you were too busy dealing with Suji. And Jiho. And, honestly, everyone.

Because you haven’t taken any new pictures recently – for shame; you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve gone this long without photographing anything – you were stuck digging out old ones, especially the ones you’ve chosen to ignore for the time being as you weren’t able to fix the coloring in a way that you would have liked.

Having nothing better to do, you arranged yourself – and your laptop – into a comfortable position on your bed – anticipating the inevitable back pain – and then turned Photoshop on. To ensure that, this time, the thoughts about your roommate did not interrupt your semi-productive mood, you put your headphones on and started a playlist of old favorites to distract yourself from anything that was going on in your life at the moment, and to take your mind back in time instead.

The music seemed to work like a spell and you found yourself humming along as you toyed with your pictures, slowly drifting away from reality and allowing your unconscious mind to do most of the editing for you – this used to be your favorite state when you were in university; just dissociating until real-life problems called for you again.

You never liked to listen to music on full volume because you never owned headphones that wouldn’t make loud songs sound like the screeching of a pregnant cat, but today you needed to tune out the sound of your thoughts, so you were listening to music louder than usually. And that is precisely why you didn’t hear the door of the apartment close and the door of your bedroom open.

Since you weren’t expecting Jaebum to come home while you were still awake – you knew of his tendency to avoid his problems, he’s shown it to you quite a few times before – you were absolutely horrified to see him standing by your bed, watching the screen of your laptop.

Squealing in surprise, you nearly tossed your laptop at him as you threw your headphones off.

“Jesus Christ, would you knock?!” you yelled, trying to calm yourself down while Jaebum snickered – what an unexpected sound – and sat down on your bed, nodding his head in the direction of your abandoned computer.

“Did you take those?” he asked, obviously meaning the pictures you’d been editing.

You were still recovering from the shock of seeing him home but now you were left wondering what had gotten into him – after days of cryptic responses to all of your questions, he was now striking up a proper conversation with you? That boy needed help.

“I did,” you told him, keeping a wary eye on him in case he burst out again. “Why?”

“They’re beautiful,” he said, repositioning your laptop so he could see better and then, even taking it as far as using your mouse to click on a specific picture – the one that showed the reflection of the city lights on the glass of a dark window. “I like this, where did you take it?”

“My old campus,” you said, leaning in closer to him to see the picture in question. “I used to take most of my pictures there before I ran out of spots to photograph and had to look elsewhere.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, clicking through other pictures – it didn’t upset you much even if he was doing this without your permission. “Oh, this one’s good. Really good. Could you send it to me? I’d love to have it on my phone.”

Surprised – no one’s asked you to send them a picture you’ve taken if it wasn’t a picture of them – you glanced at the screen of your laptop and were confused to see one of your much earlier pictures, taken almost immediately after you bought your newest camera that you’d been using for three years now. The picture, actually, wasn’t anything special: it was a shot of your shadow—the only distinguishable shadow in the dark picture—surrounded by various darker, rectangular shadows—the buildings behind you—and a small puddle of water—reflecting the street light above—in the spot where your heart was supposed to be.

“You like it?” you asked somewhat awkwardly. Not only had he chosen a picture you took when you weren’t as confident in your photographing abilities, but it was also a picture that literally had a part of you in it.

“Yes,” Jaebum nodded. “Does it have a title?”

You pulled away from him before continuing. You never felt confident about the titles you gave your pictures – they all seemed to make no sense when you said them out loud – and you were even more insecure now that you were in the presence of someone who essentially lived on words, being a songwriter and all.

“Alive,” you ended up saying. “That’s the title I gave it when I took it in about three years ago. It sounds stupid now – why would a lonely puddle in the place of a heart symbolize someone’s life – but—”

“I think it’s beautiful,” he stopped you, zooming in on the picture. “I love the idea behind it and I think the title fits the mood of the picture, too. Will you send it to me?”

Swallowing, you decided that now was the time to confront him about what’s been going on with him these past few days.

“I will,” you promised. “If you answer one question.”

Jaebum wasn’t expecting this but he merely shrugged. “Sure. What is it?”

“What’s been going on?” you asked and, after noticing that confusion started to slowly descend upon his features, proceeded to explain, “I-I mean you’ve been really cold to me out of the blue, and I know you’re generally not a warm person — and we’re not best friends or anything – but this was, well, unusual. And I know you know what I mean because you almost told me what was wrong last night but then… you shut me out again.”

You looked away from him in the middle of your explanation, despising the neediness in your voice. If he was going to remark about how you shouldn’t have been “waiting up for him” like he’s written in his note before, you swore you were going to hurl the first heavy thing you found at him. Because you’d looked away, however, you did not see Jaebum look away from you as well – masking the guilt that flashed across his face once he heard you speak out about the way he’s treated you.

“Yeah, uh…” he started to speak and then cleared his throat, thinking of what to say next. “This obviously isn’t something I want to talk about.”

“Obviously,” you agreed, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Right,” Jaebum took another long pause before finally saying, “I actually wanted to apologize about all of that. Mark – I sort of talked to him on the phone today, he’s a lot more level-headed than I am – let me know how big of an asshole I’ve been to you, so, yeah, uh… I’m sorry.”

You appreciated the apology – and made a mental note to thank Mark because, obviously, he must have found a way to subtly approach Jaebum about the issues you’ve mentioned at the bar last night – but before you could say anything, Jaebum continued.

“I don’t want to constantly complain about the same things,” he started to say and then cleared up, “not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just prefer not being a nuisance to other people—”

“You’re not a—okay, maybe you’re a little bit of a nuisance,” you said, earning a small smile from him that almost made you believe that his explanation was going to make sense and the two of you were going to move past this and return to another calm period of your lives, however short-lived it would be. “But it’s not like I’m much better. I’m fine with listening to you complain if that means you’re actually talking to me.”

After a quiet moment – God, did your words sound too much like a compliment? Should you have said something else to lower his ego? – Jaebum’s smile completely disappeared and you knew he was back to business. His serious expression unsettled you, somehow, and it felt as though you knew what he was going to talk about before he even opened his mouth. There was really only one thing that nearly ruined his life, after all – what else would he complain about continuously?

“I went through this thing with Suji,” Jaebum started, “she’d always tag along whenever I went out with my friends. She was all over them and most of them liked her because—well, you know why. She had something about her that fooled you and pulled you in. She always insisted on coming to see my friends with me, and before long, I was starting to suffocate with her everywhere. I had even asked her to stay home so I could have a guys’ night out once, and she still showed up at the club.”

You wanted to know more about his relationship with her but, at the same time, you were struggling to understand how Jaebum’s coldness to you related to his ex-girlfriend. However, after remembering everything he’s asked you – “how long have you been hanging out with Mark without me?” – you were slowly starting to see what his point was.

“Hold on for a moment,” you stopped him. “Are you—do you think I’m doing this, too? Do you think I’m trying to—I don’t know—corrupt your friends somehow, too? Steal them from you, even?”

“I—no,” he said and then sighed. “I don’t know. I just know that I’ve already been in a position where my friends had to pick sides before and I don’t want to go through that again. And, you know, I’ve already experienced someone take over my life for me. I know we talked about you dealing with Suji already but that still happened. And I-I get that our situation is different now, we moved on from that, and I moved on from Suji, but sometimes the lines blur for me.”

“The lines blur,” you repeated, your pulse quickening. “So, essentially what you’re saying is that, sometimes, you think I’m just like Suji?”

“No,” Jaebum was quick to realize how big was the pile of shit that he’s just stepped – or, flung himself – into, really. He closed his eyes for a moment, regretting opening his mouth as if staying quiet and shutting you out – as you’ve put it – would have worked out better. A minute later, he continued, “I’m just saying that I—maybe I get a little insecure about this sometimes. I talked to Mark about you today and he was the one who told me I was being unfair to you by expecting you to do the same things Suji’s done, so I realize it was wrong of me to—”

“—to compare me to your so-called psycho ex-girlfriend?” you finished for him. “Yeah, I’d say that was wrong.”

Every word he said only seemed to make this worse. Jaebum had absolutely no clue how to communicate with anyone without ruining everything, but he still tried – although he was slowly starting to forget why he even bothered.

“I’m not comparing you to her,” he said. “But you have to understand where I’m coming from. You know—better than anyone—about the kind of shit I had to experience with her, so, forgive me for being cautious so history wouldn’t repeat itself.”

“History wouldn’t—what the fuck, Jaebum?” you got up from the bed, no longer feeling comfortable sitting so close to him while he looked for parallels between you and his ex. “You didn’t know me for very long, sure, but didn’t I ever show you that I’m actually, you know, a completely different person from Suji? We’re both girls – and that’s as far as our common features go.”

“You’re—”

“I know I met up with her to get her to leave you alone, and I get that I shouldn’t have done that because it’s not my business – I’m not expecting your gratitude for that – but, shit, I didn’t do it to take over your life! I did it because I was looking out for you in whatever messed up way I could manage,” you continued, noticing how he covered his face with his hands, only getting more frustrated. “I understand your insecurities but, for fuck’s sake, have I not shown enough of my support to you? Have I not hyped your music up even though I’ve never even heard it? Have I not put up with your seemingly endless stream of one-night-stands? Did I ever lie to you about where I was and went out to hang out with your friends behind your back? Did—”

“No!” he cut you off, showing the first signs of anger, no matter how hard he’d tried to restrain himself. “You never did any of those things but how am I supposed to know you’ll never do them in the future?”

Both of your faces contorted painfully as soon as he said this – yours, because you suddenly knew just how little he trusted you; and his, because this was the exact opposite of what he should have said to you.

“Do you treat all of your friends like this?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest when he got up from your bed as well. “Do you expect this kind of behavior from everyone? Do you immediately assume every new person you meet is going to take everything you’ve worked so hard on from you?”

“No, I—”

“Are you still waiting for me to fuck up, then?” you were shouting but it was nothing new – the two of you could never have a calm conversation – and you were sure your neighbors had already gotten used to it. “Did you tell me you forgave me for meeting up with Suji, when you actually didn’t?”

“No!” he said. “I did forgive you. I thought I did. I don’t care a-about that. I care about you.”

“You care about how similar to her I am.”

Jaebum groaned. “I care about how similar to her everyone is! And I’m not fucking waiting for you to fuck up.”

“Well, then what is it?” you questioned, your voice loud and piercing. “Why is it that you don’t assume every person you meet will ruin your life, and yet, you think I might?”

“I don’t think you—fuck, you’re important to me,” Jaebum shot back, equally as agitated. He was obviously struggling with his words. “I wouldn’t care about anything that you do if you weren’t. I’m just trying to make sure—”

“—I don’t turn out to be a psychotic bitch?” you guessed, the conclusion you’ve reached making him groan because it was mostly true – he was always making sure he didn’t end up meeting another version of Suji – but it sounded ugly when you put it like that.

“N-no, I just want to be sure I know the real you,” he said. “You can’t blame me for not trusting people easily after all of this.”

“I’m not blaming you for that,” you countered. “But why the fuck did you expect to get to know me better by not talking to me? You’re not even giving me a chance to show you that you can trust me because you distance yourself from me every time you start to have doubts about me. We don’t have mutual friends, Jaebum, we’re still virtually strangers – so who the fuck is going to clear these doubts for you if you won’t let me do it?”

“I… I don’t—”

“It sounds to me like you just want to escape me and you’ll take any chance you get to do just that,” you said, your heart slamming right into the sharp edge of your ribcage until you nearly doubled over in pain. It was true, you weren’t just paranoid. Jaebum was indeed trying to get out of the cage your close presence had put him in. “Every time I do something wrong – even if I don’t realize it – you disappear on me as if I’ve cursed your ancestors by making a mistake. I’m not perfect. If anything, I’m the furthest thing from it, but you have to let people make mistakes and believe that they won’t ruin your life, Jaebum. You have to let people apologize for them, too. And if you don’t think you’ll have it in yourself to forgive them, then tell them that and let go of them. Tell me to leave if I fucked up so bad that you think I’m exactly like Suji—”

“Did I say you were exactly like her?” he was frantic now as the fight progressed into something that no longer involved just the past couple of days, but also covered the entirety of your relationship with each other. “Or did I ever say I wanted you to leave? Fuck, I’m spending almost every moment of my free time at home just so I could spend more time with you — and I don’t fucking do that. I go out, okay? I like to have fun, I like to drink, and I like to be out when it’s dark – whatever. I don’t do that as much anymore.”

“Oh, well, thank you so much for making these sacrifices for me.”

The sarcasm in your voice made him want to punch the closest wall.

“Those are not—I can’t—you’re not fucking hearing me,” he stumbled around different arguments. “I’m telling you about all the shit I do for you – the shit I’d never done for anyone else before – just to prove that I don’t think you’re like Suji in any way.”

“Well, then why the silence?” you countered. “Why did you not talk to me about what you were feeling?”

“I didn’t know how to put it in words so it’d make sense,” he said. “Clearly, I still don’t understand any of this myself. A part of me might never be able to fully open up to anyone and, fuck, I sure as hell don’t want my past relationship to influence my decisions about my future but it does, okay? I am going to be paranoid and I can’t fucking help it.”

“Do you think that’s fair to others? To me?” you asked, shaking your head. “You’re not even giving me a chance.”

“I’m not—chance after chance is exactly what I’m giving you!” Jaebum protested. “And that’s why I’m scared. That’s exactly why I’m fucking terrified – because, suddenly, I don’t care about anything that you’re doing. I’m fine with all of it. I forgive you for everything and I open up to you about everything without sitting down to think if that’s the right thing to do. And then, the next second, I’m hating myself because, fuck, why am I even doubting this? I have every right to tell you shit about myself. I have every right to forgive you because, technically, you didn’t do anything wrong. But, then, how could I not doubt this? I’ve already been through something similar, I don’t want to go through that again. I’ve already experienced a period of my life where I forgave everything. Where I opened up about everything.”

“Alright,” you said, your lips forming a straight line. You knew the words he said had a different meaning – he wasn’t trying to hurt you – and yet each sentence that left his lips seemed to dig painfully into your chest. “You are making sure I’m not Suji 2.0. That’s fine.”

“That’s not fine,” he voiced the obvious. “And I get that it sounds bad but it’s—fuck, I’m being really fucking open with you here – I literally don’t know how to deal with myself. If I get the feeling like I’m about to get burned, I-I pull away because I’ve been there before. I can’t keep on trying to calm myself down and ignore the bad feelings in my stomach because I know those bad feelings can turn into a bad reality. That’s how I fucking deal with my problems – I leave. I can’t cling onto something that will potentially rip my heart out and force me to swallow it raw.”

You hated how deep the argument had gotten. You had not prepared to pour your entire soul into this and Jaebum hadn’t either – that’s why he looked almost nauseous – but there was no going back now.

“And you think I could do that to you?” you asked.

He looked down. “I don’t know.”

“Alright,” you said, your voice calm all of a sudden. You wanted this conversation to end now. “I appreciate you telling me this.”

Immediately understanding that you were done, Jaebum tried to find one last way to magically mend the scars on both of your throats after you’ve yelled at each other. “Fuck, I’m—”

“Look, maybe we should be alone for a while,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear him say anything else because you could only shout so much before tears finally showed up. “I don’t want to deal with this and, obviously, neither one of us can think clearly right now. Maybe we can just ignore this conversation like you’ve been trying to do before I brought it up.”

His hands were on his face again as he tried one last time, “I’m sorry.”

You swallowed thickly – the lump in your throat letting you know that you were either about to suffocate or cry, and you didn’t know which one you’d have preferred.

“Okay,” you said, turning away from him in case tears appeared in your eyes before he left. “Thank you. I’m sorry, too.”

Jaebum wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure where the two of you were standing – he’s revealed so much of himself to you in the past ten minutes and he knew he’s never been this honest about his feelings with anyone before – and he knew now wasn’t the time to ask.

If he could turn back the time, he’d change the sequence of his words to you – first, he’d tell you how much you mattered to him and how much he loved being with you, and only then would he mention how hard it was for him to be around you. How afraid he was to open his heart up – how much he resisted it, even – and how easily he allowed his feelings to defeat him, in the end.

He was getting more and more scared by the second because what if he ended up getting himself into something he could not get out of? What if he’d start something he’d never be able to end again? Even if these fears sounded irrational – even more so after he saw how wildly you tried to get him to see that you hated being compared to Suji – he still couldn’t escape them. And he was afraid he never would.

Jaebum didn’t wish to take his words back. He’d said all that he’d been dying to say to you for the past few days. He just wished the two of you lived in a world where the past could have been left in the past and all the words spoken in the present – and all the confessions hiding underneath those anguished tones and desperate eyes – were all that remained between you and him.

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purplecloudsinmycoffee · 4 years

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Everyday People

Earlier today, my best friend and I were talking about a particular older friend from our hospital group and how she was always the type to push people to become better. I think I’ve been really lucky that I am surrounded by people that I can learn a lot from. So I felt like making an entry about all these amazing people just because I love them and I need to brag about them (also something to read again when I’m looking back because I’m a sentimental piece of crap).

My hospital group has become sort of a family to me and I relied on them a lot during my clerkship and internship years. The older friend I mentioned was a member of my small group as well. She’s always felt like an older sister. If there was a person that taught me that I should never remain stagnant and should always seek to improve myself, it’s her. She’s also shared so much wisdom from her own life experiences that helped me lot. I talk to her a lot even now. I’d ask her take on difficult decisions and she’d also tell me about the challenges in her marriage.I remember months ago when I told her that I felt vacant and lost and she’d send me books and apps reminding me that it’s my job to get myself out of that pit.

The other female member of our subgroup is this hilarious girl I enjoy spending time with because we just laugh at everything. Corny jokes and puns galore. We share one brain cell when we’re together. She’s so chill and light to be with but also takes her work seriously. I’m happy I still get to work with her sometimes because I miss her and she lives the farthest.

The best friend I keep mentioning in my posts is someone I talk to almost everyday. I consider the friendship I found in her so rare and golden that I am amazed to have met someone who gets and knows me like she does. I talk to her about anything and everything with no fear of judgment. I’ve always admired her silent strength and how she kept herself together after everything life has thrown at her. We always joke about how we’re soulmates cause we’re so in tune with each other and so much on the same wavelength that it’s crazy. I don’t think I would’ve survived if I’ve been through what she’s been through, so I am always in awe of her in that way.

I have another best friend who I’ve been friends with since first year med that I also talk to a lot. She’s really really cool and she takes care of people so well. I think she’s always a bit too hard on herself cause she’s such a hard worker. She’s always been a bit more grounded than I am so talking to her gives me a new perspective. She’s a surgery trainee now so I don’t get to talk to her or spend time with her as much as I used to but I cherish times that I am able to talk to her.I love hearing about her new life and her adventures or even something as mundane as being able to still discuss manga and shows.

If my older female groupmate is my older sis figure, my older brother figure is this other male groupmate. He’s also a drinking buddy and one of my breakfast buddies. What’s so amazing about him is that I can say without any doubt that he’s a genuinely good person. Kind to the core. He’s extremely hilarious as well which makes hanging out and drinking with him fun. My other small group male groupmate is this energetic guy who’s so enthusiastic ALL the time. I can never match his energy tbh and there were times that I clashed with him during work. I really respected him for how hard he works though and I’ve always been jealous about how he always knew what he wanted to achieve in life and where he’s going. The last male groupmate is unique in his way of thinking but everyone loves him because he’s adorable.

The other 2 female members of my group are also really awesome people. I think I share with both of them the love for learning. I love discussing interesting cases with them. We’re all IM nerds so maybe that’s why. One of them is a free spirit who is so entertaining as much as she is frustrating. She always does things her own way and her confidence I always admired. The other one is the top of our batch and she’s such a sweet girl and I’m always so proud of her and her number one fan. I try to check on them every now and then and they’re doing so well in their chosen paths.

If my hospital group are people given to me (through alphabetical grouping) to help me survive my last 2 years in med, my OG med school gang are people I chose after floating around for a bit. I was the only one among my college buddies to go to my med school. So I didn’t really know anyone. Initially, I hung out with the people closest to my seat and I got along with them okay. I socialized a bit, befriending the girl closest to me at the time. She told me she wanted to hang out with this group of people we coincidentally saw at the place we were having lunch at. Initially, I was ok with just the two of us cause she was good company but they seemed like an interesting bunch so I agreed.

I hope they don’t take this against me if they see this (and I’m pretty sure they won’t see this but just to be sure), they weren’t the most socially adept kind but I’ve come to see and appreciate the good things throughout the years of knowing them. We had a lot of fun and the scope of my hobbies and interests definitely expanded because of them.

I’ve talked about the first one (the female best friend from 1st yr med). My other female friends are so different from each other that it’s funny. One of them is rather quiet but can be a bit blunt and has bizarre interests. What I’ve come to love about her is how loyal and generous she is. It was fulfilling to see her gain more friends throughout the years. The other one is a shy girl who’s always a bit unsure of herself. She’s also very sweet but very logical in the way she thinks (and sometimes overthinks) that it’s interesting to see her perspective on things (even if there are times that I disagree). I like hearing her stories about work and when she tells me when she does things that are out of her comfort zone. The last one is the one I’m probably on the same wavelength as (probably because we’re both INFJs? I dunno). I don’t get to talk to her a lot because she kind of comes and goes haha. She’s probably the most mysterious because she doesn’t reveal a lot about herself but I love talking to her about life and random stuff. We kind of have sessions that we talk about anything for a long period of time and then she kind of disappears for a while until the next session. I’ve come to accept that about her.

My two male friends are also very different. One of them I frequently call Bestie or Satan or Susan to annoy him (he’s gotten used to it now that I need to change tactics) is kind of like a go-to person for new content of anime/manga, movies or whatever. He kind of likes a lot of the same things I do. Underneath the bullying and crass behavior, he kind of cares in his own way (even if he tries to deny it). Similar sense of humor so the shows and shit we like are similar. He’s really smart but also really lazy but also really lucky so it balances out. We talk a lot about work these days which is very different from the times we were trying to outshine each other in procrastination back in med school.

The last friend tbh is the most difficult one to talk about. I want to talk about what I liked and miss about this friendship though.He kind of lives in a world of his own. He’s the unconventional type. He’s awkward and often misunderstood (but sometimes he’s so unaware that I have to admit it’s kind of his fault too). He has a lot going on though which I try to understand (try is the keyword here because there were times it’s an active effort). What I really loved though is that with this person I have felt most at ease in a way. Kind of those people that it’s okay not to talk when you’re around them but you’re also comfortable enough to talk about yourself when you wanted to. I’ve always been fascinated and appreciative of how creative he is and how much he knows. We also shared a few common hobbies and he’s a really nice movie buddy. He listens when you talk (but can sometimes zone out but it’s ok) and his sense of humor I also jive with. I can’t claim to fully know him or understand him but I loved spending time with him and trying to get to know him. I was extremely proud and happy when I heard that he got accepted to the training program he wanted.

There’s actually a lot more people and friends who made med school so happy and colorful but this is already a long post and I’ve indulged myself way too much with this. I really just want to be appreciative of all the people who I saw and interacted with everyday for the past few years.I have the time to reflect and see much fun I had and what I learned from them and what they contributed to my life. All this free time is thinking time anyway.

#personal

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saturnmyg · 6 years

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The devil wears givenchy (1) | Min Yoongi

❝ You’re a therapist who one day gets a call from someone who claims to be satan asking for an appointment. On the day of the appointment you expect to see a teenager or someone in their mid twenties instead you’re met with a man in a screaming red suit whose hair and eyes are as dark as the night but with an attitude of a spoiled brat, he surely cant be satan. ❞

➵ paring: Satan! Yoongi x Therapist reader

➵ author’s note: im excited for this series to start so i hope yall like it, also the question yn asks are question therapist have asked me on the first counselling session this is all based on experience.

➵ requested by : no one

| warnings in this chapter : cursing, mention of death

Masterlist

@minyoonjiswifey

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

‘’Miss Y/n’’

A deep voice followed by a knock rips you out of your thoughts and you look over to the door. The office's secretary Mr Kim stands there holding a planner in his hand

‘’There was a request or should i say a demand for a counseling session’’ Kim continues brows furrowing together telling you that he's mildly annoyed ‘’by someone claiming to be satan’’

‘’Excuse me what?’’ you fully turn towards secretary Kim with raised eyebrows.

‘’As i said he claimed to-’’

‘’No i understood that’’ you interrupt waving your hand dismissively ‘’did you ask what his real name is?’’

‘’I did-’’ Kim answers monotone ‘’- he said mortals shall call him Min Yoongi. i set an appointment this friday five o'clock’’

‘’Alright thank you for notifying me’’ you smile at the stoic man who just nods in reply, bows slightly and walks out of your office.

Mr Kim is.. a peculiar person. He's a man of a few words with an expressionless yet handsome face and mouse grey dyed hair thats most of the times slicked back. Though when finally does decide to talk, he tells the wildest stories that often gives you a whiplash.He's also an undefeated champion when it comes to giving backhanded compliments or at least they seem to be.

You'd think working together for almost nine years you'd be used to him.

Thats right, its been nine years since you started working as a therapist. You've always had an affinity to listening to other peoples concerns and to look at the problem objectively without it affecting you. Its funny though that you ended up in this profession. The past you was.. wild, especially during college. Don't get it wrong it wasn't that you were out partying all time but you and your group of friends were up to no good.

Your family was very poor when your mother was still alive. She loved gambling and spending her money on alcohol to the point where you had no food left at home. Which meant that fourteen years old you had to work, at a strip club as waitress. Not the best place for a minor to be considering the leeching looks the people sometimes threw at you but fortunately one of the security guys always looked out for you. until one day a sleazy looking man gave you his business card saying that he was looking for someone who'd be able to deliver stuff for him. Of course you were weary but the promise of a paycheck that was three times higher than the one you were already earning was too good of an opportunity to let it slip past you.

And thats basically how you became a drug dealer and how you met your friends who were either also working for your ex boss or working for his friend who often had his folks deliver drugs to your boss. Of course that slowed down the moment you became a senior. You started studying and participating in class more, the pressure of finding a socially accepted job after college weighing on your shoulder like a huge rock. You and some of your friends completely stopped dealing when graduation was nearing and your boss thankfully let you go but offered that the there would be always a spot open for you if you ever needed it.

Shaking your head you chuckle slightly and turn back to the computer. You've met countless types of people but no one ever has introduced themselves as satan. You're intrigued in finding out what type of person your client is going to be.

Shutting off the laptop you stand up from the table, take your jacket and put it on. Flickering off the lights you turn around and give your office a last glance before you exit out of the room. Walking down the pristine hallway towards where the reception you fumble with your car keys lost in your thoughts. Arriving at the entrance you see Secretary Kim sitting behind the computer typing something at a fast speed. Walking up to the reception table you knock on the dark hard wood a few times ‘’I'm clocking off’’

Secretary Kim looks up from the computer and nods curtly, the glasses sitting low on his nose bridge, before immersing himself in whatever he was doing before and you let out a small sigh

‘’don’t stay too long’’ you warn him and leave the office.

Standing in front of the elevator you hum a quiet tune waiting for the doors to open. A few seconds later a quiet ping indicates that the elevator has arrived at your level and the doors open. Surprised you see a tall man wearing a black coat with a book in his hand

‘’Ah good evening Y/n’’ The man greets you as you walk into the elevator, dimples poking out of his cheeks.

‘’Its already night Namjoon’’ you greet back with a small chuckle.

Namjoon works at the dental praxis that is one floor above you so you constantly run into each other. He's playful man who most of the times has a mischievous glint in his eyes yet from what you've seen is very serious about his job. Another thing is he's quite popular, even amongst your own coworker alongside with secretary Kim. But with those looks who wouldn't be, tan skin with deep dimples and voice, beautiful thick hair and legs so long they belong on a runway. Plus he got the brains too, he's what you call a total package, anyone would be drooling for him.

Namjoon reaches over and presses the button ‘’since its only 07:55pm its still evening’’

‘’Semantics’’ you reply with an eye roll and namjoon just chuckles. A comfortable hush falls over the both of you and you take out your phone. Your'e so immersed in looking at your schedule that you dont notice that the doors have opened. Namjoon nudges you and you snap out of it, bashfully you tuck your phone back into your pocket and walks towards the building's entrance.

‘’See you Y/n’’ Namjoon turns around smiles, his eyes turn into crescents.

‘’Bye’’ you wave and you both part ways. Taking your scarf out of the purse, you wrap it around your neck before tugging the jacket closer to your body. Winter has finally settled and you're overjoyed. You love November, you love how the city smells of cinnamon and mulled wine. How around every corner you can hear people already singing Christmas carols and how everyone just looks so happy.

Besides Christmas you love winter nights, specifically nights where you wake up at three in the morning to pee and you look outside to find freshly fallen snow. The snow making the environment look brighter and slightly alienating, kind of as if you live in a picture. Yet for whatever reasons that sight makes your bed seem more comfortable and warm.

Scurrying across the parking lot you take out your keys and unlock the vehicle. Quickly you get into it and slam the door behind you. Throwing your purse on the passenger seat you plug your phone in, scroll through Spotify till you find your playlist and press play. A smooth melody with a deep bass vibrates through the car as you're backing out of the parking spot and you quietly hum along.

The only thing about winter you don’t really like is driving on the iced street. Along with the lingering paranoia that any car could lose control and crash into yours.

Thats a bad habit of yours, imagining the worst possible outcomes of any situation. You could be walking down the stairs and suddenly you'll think about how you could fall down, hit your head and die instantly cause your neck snapped. So most of your rides are filled with anxiety and extreme caution.

Sighing slightly you shake your head before focusing back on the road.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Unlocking the door you enter you home, take off your shoes off. Walking down the hallway into the living room you throw your jacket onto the gray couch and grab the remote control. Turning on the tv you continue to walk into the kitchen.

Your kitchen is pretty nice though, black tiles decorating the wall along with white and gray cabinets. As a matter of fact you decorated your place only with monochrome colors, to the point where even your dishes match the look you're going for. The plants that are widespread throughout the apartment finishes the look with a splash of green color.

To be honest, you've been meaning to change the color scheme but you're either are too lazy or too busy to do so. Maybe its cause you've gotten older but often times the colors make you feel alienating, kind of the same feeling you get when you enter an apple store. Future-esque but not homely or welcoming.

Opening the refrigerator you groan at the sight, slamming the fridge shut you notice the post on note. ''buy groceries!'' it says in bright red cursive letters. Great, whats the point of using post on notes when you don't even see them cause apparently now you're blind.

Grimacing your reach over to the house phone hanging on the wall corner that separates the kitchen and living room, and dial the pizzeria's number. The phone rings a few times until it clicks

‘’Dio's pizzeria how can i help you?’’ asks a lazy voice.

You give them your order and address and they tell you that the pizza should arrive in thirty minutes. Hanging up the phone you walk out of the kitchen, down the hallway into your room.

Your bedroom just like the rest of the apartment is decked out in the same monochromic colors , even your sheets and pillows match. Hanging on your wall are cute pictures of your college friends that you try to meet up at least once a week. Overall the room has a nice feeling to it but if the pictures weren't there no one could tell that this room belongs to you.

Putting the light on you stop in your tracks. Something is off, you cant really pin point what but it feels like someone was in your bedroom when you weren't home. Looking at the pictures on the wall you see that they're all intact and untouched. Walking towards the desk you carefully look at the papers and other items, wondering if you truly left your desk this disorganized.

With quiet steps you walk to the closet and take out your pajamas and scurry out of the room. ''What is this , final destination?' you mutter under your breath and enter the bathroom. Feeling like someone is watching you quickly undress and jump into the shower.

After serenading several songs you remember that the pizza should be arriving any minute you jump out of the shower and dry yourself with a fluffy towel you bought a few months ago. As you're wrapping the towel around your head you hear the doorbell ring so you walk out of the bathroom, take your purse out of the bag that you left in the hallway and open the door.

In front of you stands a boy that looks like he's in his early twenties. Tall, with honey dipped tan skin and Dark hair that reaches the tip of his chin. A face that's so flawless you're sure he was sculpted by god himself. Yet the longer you stare at him the more its off putting. Kind of like how the longer you look into the mirror the more grotesque you think the reflection has become. His eyes is what makes the alarm bells ring in your head. They're big and dark but soulless to the point where for a second you think a other worldly being stands in front of you.

‘’One prosciutto e funghi pizza for Y/n?’’ He asks his voice deep and you notice that his canines are unusually pointy.

‘’Thats me’’ you answer , take the pizza. As you're handing him the money, your finger tips graze the palm of his cold hand a electric shock goes through your body.

‘’Always be careful to not touch supernatural beings’’ a vague memory of an old woman flashes through your head and you quickly retract your hand, clutching it against your chest.

The delivery boy who stiffed up at the skin contact, hastily takes a step back, runs his fingers through his hair , acting nonchalant but his eyes are still wide. ''Have a nice day'' he says, his smile even more menacing than before and it sends a shiver up your spine.

You nod slowly, and he turns around and leaves. Your eyes following his back until he walks down the stairs and you cant see him anymore , before you walk back into your home and close the door. Walking into the living room you put the pizza on the small table by the couch and you sit down.

‘’Its just paranoia’’ you mutter, reach over and take a piece out of the carton. ''Is it though? you ask yourself while biting into the food. You're not sure why you even had such a flashback earlier and why your grandma was in it. As much as you know she's was an ordinary old sweet lady who loved spoiling her grandchild, though there is a big junk of your memory missing due to an incident that happened when you were a child.

Shaking your head you decide to worry about it when the time comes and try to enjoy the rest of the night.

‘’How could you do this to me?’’ the woman on tv cries and you scrunch your nose. The acting is horrible, similar to how the late eighties movie were, over dramatic with a lousy plot and weird sense of humor. Taking the remote control, you take a bite off the pizza and switch the channel.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Annoyed Yoongi sits in the waiting room, tapping his fingers against his thigh rhythmically. He's only here because his advisor- Jimin basically blackmailed him to go to therapy, which in yoongi's eyes is ridiculous. As a matter of fact , Yoongi had rolled his eyes when jimin came up with the proposition. He doesn't need therapy he's perfectly fine but according to Jimin ,yoongi is brash, pompous and needs a ''reality'' check. Yoongi thinks jimin is only saying that because of the way he treats his employees. Sure he's a hard-to- please- boss and likes to nitpick at everything, he is satan after all but he has seen human's who were in his position treat their employees way worse than he does.

Yet here he is, sitting in the waiting room in a uncomfortable chair while starring at the white eggshell wall that's decorated with various framed pop art posters. The atmosphere heavy reminding yoongi of the dread of lost souls and he wants to smack his head against the wall. The tapping on his thigh speeds up , making the small thumping sound echo through the room and the man sitting opposite of yoongi shoots hime a glare. Before yoongi can retaliate the door opens and you step into the room.

‘’Min Yoongi?’’

Yoongi stand up and fixes his blazer and walks towards you.

The first thing you notice about the Yoongi is the suit he's wearing. The red is so bright it makes you want to gauge your eyes out, you cant fathom for the life of you why someone would wear that color but then again secretary Kim did tell you that the person on the phone was strange. The suit though fits his form quite and goes well with the white turtleneck that he's wearing underneath the blazer.

‘’That's me’’Yoongi replies, stretching out his hand.

‘’Y/n’’ you take his hand into yours and shake it briefly. The second thing you notice is how deep yet slightly nasal his voice is, which matches his image impeccably.

‘’Please follow me’’ you say and turn around to walk down the hallway with yoongi on your heel. Opening your office door you step aside and let him enter the room first. ‘’Would you like something to drink?’’ you ask walking over to the coffee machine standing on top of the gray table thats by the wall.

‘’Coffee, black’’ Yoongi curtly answers, while looking around the room before sitting down on the arm chair.

Yoongi feels uncomfortable. Theres this weird feeling in his gut that started the moment his skin touched yours and that feeling only got stronger when he walked into your office. Your office looks like any normal office would look, white walls also decorated with the same overrated pop art posters that every college student that majors in art surely has hanging in their room. Gray armchairs and a plant by your desk that looks like its five minutes away from dying. Yoongi isn't sure if the plant is supposed to be like that or if you're really just careless and if the latter is the case, does that mean you care about your clients the same way as that plant?

‘’Here’’ you speak up ripping yoongi out of his thoughts, putting the mug on the small table in front of him before taking a seat opposite of yoongi.

Yoongi was surprised earlier when you greeted him. He expected his therapist to be an older woman in her fifties who had a kind grandmother face and a soft voice. Instead he was met with you, who stood as if you were being pulled up by the roots of your hair, wearing black from head to toe with your hair pulled into a tight ponytail and oval glasses sitting on top of your nose. Which made you look more like the grim reaper instead of a professional who listens and helps people coping being alive. Even know as you're sitting in front of him, you're posture is straight as a wooden board which adds an air of elegance to your being but in yoongi's eyes you look prudish and stern.

‘’Tell me why you're here’’ you say looking up from your notebook where you wrote down todays date and his name.

Picking the cup up Yoongi takes a sip before sighing deeply ''i was forced to be here''

That doesn't surprise you, his whole body language and vibe screams that he doesn't want to be here at all and you're sure he's doing that on purpose. ‘’Forced? by who?’’

‘’By my advisor’’ Yoongi answers ‘’he thinks i have behavioral issues’’, he makes air quotes. ‘’Which is complete bullshit considering we work in hell and compared to the human bosses who are way more corrupted that we demons are i'm actually quite lenient’’

You stop writing on your notebook and blink at him multiples times. The fact that he even said that whole speech with a straight face makes you think you dissociated for a second. Raising your eyebrows slightly you continue to write.

calls workplace hell and refers to coworkers as demons. advisor sent him to counseling.

‘’I assume then that you haven't seen a therapist or counselor before?’’ you ask and cross your legs.

‘’correct’’ Yoongi sighs ‘’i'm going to be honest i'm not exactly expecting much from this i'm only here cause of my advisor who otherwise would get angry it wouldn't surprise me if he ratted me out to the angels’’

That the action of someone nonchalantly shrugging their shoulders could look so arrogantly never occurred to you until you met him. Nodding your head you continue to ask

‘’What do you see as being the biggest problem?’’

‘’Work’’ Yoongi answers so fast the words practically fly out of his mouth. ‘’Some would say its me but its the workers. We're not understaffed but the workers love lazying around and gossip. And hiring new people would take up too much time considering that they'd need training and honestly i don’t have the patience cause they're more likely to make mistakes and i hate mistakes. he stresses the word hate.

likes consistency ,seems very particular about surroundings.

‘’What exactly is your occupation?’’

‘’I thought you humans knew what we demons do’’ Yoongi states taking another sip of the coffee. ‘’Considering that mankind worship god and its ways, though the holy scriptures aren't accurate at all i mean they were written by humans , which by the way half of those people didn't even exist, and then translated into other languages over decades which means most of what was originally written is lost in translation.’’

If this were The Office this would be the scene where you'd blankly stare into the camera for a few seconds but it isn't so you just choose to stay quiet.

‘’But you know what's ridiculous?’’ Yoongi continues ‘’i got casted out , told that i will never return to heaven, which yeah was shitty but the real trauma is how when i fell i was immense pain cause my wings started to burn off and my wings were my pride you know. Just cause i didn't agree with their vision, and now i constantly have gods followers on my ass, acting like I'm the bad one when in actuality I'm just doing my job and its those unemployed demons that wreck havoc in the human world.’’

Refers to parental figure as god, meaning that person is the authorial person in the household. overall cites and talks about the bible, could mean the household is extremely religious.. Says angels are after him and the coworkers, possibly trying to tarnish the company's name. Has implied that he is satan, possible the black sheep of the family.

‘’I thought satan is responsible for all demons’’ you decide to humor him.

‘’Don't be silly human' Yoongi waves dismissively his hand ‘’that would make me a god, which i'm not. To be a god i'd need to have a lot more followers and willing sacrifices which i honestly don't have the time for cause you humans are dying at an alarming rate and we have to overwork ourselves.’’ He sends you a nasty glare you decide to ignore.

‘’What would be the solution?’’ you look up from your notes

‘’if they stop fucking misplacing the documents, pens and everything else. Theres a manual where it specifically states that if you put documents on my table it has to be on the right side four centimeters away from the left and three centimeters from the part of the desk thats the closest to you .’’ he rubs his temples with furrowed brows.

‘’Why those numbers specifically?’’

‘’because thats the most efficient way’’ Yoongi answers with a tone that makes you think you asked the world's dumbest question.

‘’They stress me out so much to the point where i feel like screaming every time i see their faces, sometimes i feel like they're doing this on purpose cause when my advisor orders them to do something they'll happily comply. im sure its because of his looks’’ he mutters the last part.

gets stressed out to the point of exhaustion if he doesn't have full control of his environment.

‘’What positive changes would you like to see happen in your life?’’

‘’this is going to sound crazy since i'm satan’’ Yoongi sighs deeply and stares at the dying plant behind you ''but i want things to be more peaceful and right now hell is in utter chaos, as i mentioned earlier a lot of demons are not working, not due that there aren't any jobs but because they still have that old mindset that their only mission in life is to kill humans. Don't get me wrong i could care less about you guys but its my company that has to overwork itself cause of it’’

You raise your eyebrows ‘’don't souls go to hell cause they used to be a sinner?’’

Yoongi scoffs and rolls his eyes ‘’ hell is just another word for the underworld. Souls come down to us to get judgment of their previous life and if they were a goodie two shoes they get sent to heaven by following the holy light that shines down when the gates open up. Though i am glad my advisor was able to negotiate with the angels to let them into heaven cause it was getting overcrowded down there and all the demons we sent up to bring the souls were brutally attacked by them’’

For someone who claims to hate humankind yoongi sure likes and takes his time to explain to you how hell really works. As if you're going to correct anyones assumptions about hell , which by the way you don’t believe that he's satan, there is no actual evidence that demons exist. So you decided a long time ago that you wont believe in such folklore.

You stare at the paper in your lap for a few seconds, raking your brain on what to write down of what he just told you, since you cant compare it to anything logical. The only explanation on why the ''angel's '' would attack yoongi's worker would be that he works in the shady field, you know, like being a drug lord or anything else that isn't accepted in society.

‘’you know’’ you speak up, deciding to document that last part later when you have time to think everything through. ‘’although you are not a god, you're still the most powerful demon in the underworld no?’’

‘’Not exactly, after i fell i became one of the ten kings of hell, mostly because i was the one who contributed the most when it came to establish the underworld. Though i am the one who makes the final decision hence why i get the most workload.’’

‘’hm’’ you hum ‘’it sounds like the reason why you're not being listened to is because you haven't clearly established the hierarchy in your environment’’

‘’I clearly have but they don't-’’

‘’Being the boss does not mean you scream or fuss at your subordinates, but that you reward them for their good work and fire them if it needs to be done’’ you give him an intense look. ‘’With you lashing out shows that you have time to be emotional which means theres time to dilly dally’’

‘’Their reward is a good paycheck’’ Yoongi counters clasping his hands ‘’there are no holidays for us because you humans die whenever its convenient and theres a special regiment that needs to be followed for the souls to either get reincarnated or go to heaven. And firing my workers is out of question’’

‘’Then what about proposing the idea to the others ,of making a trainee department where you recruit people who want or are desperate for money since you said the paycheck is hefty. It would benefit you in the way that , the trainee's can see what working in your department would be like and then decide if they want to stay or not, and if they stay your workload will sink significantly’’

Yoongi touches his lips for a few times, lost in his thoughts trying to process what you said before he snaps his fingers and points it at you. ‘’Human that is actually a very good idea, do you want to work for me?’’

A feeling similar to disgust washes over you with the way he said human, as if you're lower than him, lower than an insect even and your first instinct is to grimace. Instead you smile, squinting your eyes ever so slightly to give the illusion that the expression is real. ‘’No thank you i'm quite content with my job’’ you politely refuse.

‘’Thats a shame’’ Yoongi shrugs his shoulders ‘’you would fit into the underworld quite well’’

You're not sure if that is a compliment of it he's telling you that you're demonic. Either way you decide to ignore his statement and close the file in your lap. ‘’The session will end in five minutes , but before that i want to ask you, how do you feel now?’’

''Better'' Yoongi answers ‘’less stressed as when i walked in which surprises me , you're quite good i wouldn't mind the weekly sessions.’’

‘’Thank you’’ you answer ‘’do you have any questions?’’

‘’everything i tell you is confidential right?’’

‘’Yes, unless you've killed someone or are threatening general public i would have to report you but otherwise no one knows anything, even your advisor wont get told what happened in here’’ you reply.

‘’i wouldn't say that’’ Yoongi hums ‘’he has quite a way with words and is able to persuade anyone’’

‘’we'll have to see’’ you retort and take your planner from the small table ‘’is next week on thursday at four o'clock in the afternoon good for you?’’

‘’Yes’’ Yoongi answers as he's looking at the schedule on his phone.

‘’Good’’ you close the planner ‘’before you go i want you do this every time you feel like your anger and stress is getting to you, take deep breaths and slowly count to ten, that should help you calm down a little and think rationally, well talk on how effective it was next week then’’

Yoongi nods and you stand up, walks towards the door and open it. As you turn around to face him you see him standing just a few feet away from the couch starring out of the window, his brows furrowed and his lips tight. He turns around and walks towards you in long strides an hint of annoyance on his face.

‘’I'll see you next week then’’ you stretch out your hand ‘’if something should come up and you’re not able to come please do call and cancel a day before the appointment’’

''Alright '' Yoongi replies and takes your outstretched hand into his

When Yoongi's hand touch your skin your earlier suspicions are confirmed. His hand are icy cold to the point that it feels like your skin is burning at the mere contact. Which is worrying because the only time a human ever has a temperature that low is when they're dying of hypothermia yet the man in front of you looks like he has drank out of the fountain of youth.

He grips your hand tighter and says in a low voice ‘’be careful in the next few days’’

Not sure if he's warning or threatening you, you blankly stare at him before nodding silently and Yoongi lets go of your hand. Gives you one last glance before he walks out of the room and you close the door. Walking over to your desk you plump into the chair and sigh deeply, you have no idea what that so called warning is about, yet another part of your brain instantly goes to how you thought your apartment was broken in a few days ago. But how can Yoongi even know about that, considering the fact that you've just met an hour ago unless the whole thing about him being satan is actually true.

You shake your head, there is no way Yoongi is satan, sure he looks devilishly good despite the ugly red highlighter colored type of suit he was wearing and the black hair compliments his skin color impeccably. But you're also pretty sure the overlord would have more blood thirst and wouldn't be so merciful like yoongi ,who took his sweet time to explain details about hell to you. Almost coming off like that one kid at a slumber party who corrects the other kids when they state they had fun today , saying since its past twelve it technically ''tomorrow'' hence why they had ''fun yesterday''

Basically a kill joy.

Tapping the pen against the desk for a few times you snort out loud before putting the utensil down. Its out of question that demons and otherworldly beings are real, so for now in your eyes yoongi's using religion as metaphor for his own life.

Opening the laptop you wait for it to start up so that you can write about the session. After around twenty minutes of you trying to find the right words for the report without making it seem like you made the whole thing up ,you notice the time and shut off your laptop. Looking out of the window you notice that the sky is already dark and snowflakes are falling from the sky.

‘’I hope Christmas comes soon’’ you murmur with a small smile before turning around and taking your jacket from the chair. After wrapping the scarf around your neck and picking up your bag you walk towards the door, shut the light off and exit the room.

Christmas has a special place in your heart. Until you were fourteen you had never experienced Christmas, it was something you'd only see on tv and thats was rarely cause your mom almost never paid the electricity bill. And the only time you did was when you were seven, because your grandmother came and took you away from your delirious mother. Though you cant remember it because you had an accident that was severe enough to wipe out your memories of that entire winter.

After you started working as a waitress and the girls who worked there found out that you never celebrated the holiday they made it a tradition to throw a party after work. Everyone would bring food , cake and gifts and would just have a jolly time. And till to this day you continue on with that tradition.

‘’Im clocking out’’ You say as you arrive at the reception to just to find it empty. Confused you look around until you see secretary Kim coming out of the break room with a cup of coffee.

‘’See you on monday’’ he says in his soothing deep voice and holds the cup higher in salutations. You give him a bright smile and walk out of the praxis.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

The reason why you're standing in the middle of the grocery store is because you still haven't bought food. You don't even have an excuse for it, sure technically your'e now seen as an adult but your mind is still that of an nineteen year old college student who doesn't know what budgeting is. Its pure laziness, the mere thought of having to cook and then wash the pots and pans has you groaning for eternity. Hence why your basket is filled with food that can be cooked under fifteen minutes, such as ramen, bread ,cheese, all types of sweets and of course beer.

The convenient store is relatively empty, besides you there are two other people in it one which is the cashier. Mariya takeuchi's song plays in the background but its not the same melody as you remember it. Its funkier than usual which gives the whole store a weird vibe to it. Stores at night are generally a place where it seems like reality is altered. you know the same way how when you're at your friends house and wake up in the middle of the night and everything just seems like its from another dimension? exactly that.

Putting the last chocolate bar into your basket you walk towards where the cashier is located. The cashier is a tall girl who has turquoise blue hair and a mole underneath her left eye. Her whole demeanor is screaming that she's bored but she doesn't attempt to make small talk with you which is something you appreciate. After paying you bid her goodbye and walk out of the store only to bump into someone.

‘’oh shit sorry’’ you aplogize and take a step back. The person you notice, is a male with a black hoodie on, his eyes weirdly soulless as he glances at you not even bothering to give you a reply yet for unknown reasons the hairs on your neck raise and you get goosebumps. Scurrying across the parking lot you open your car door and put the bags into the passengers seat. A feeling of paranoia washes over you and you quickly get into the car.

‘’be careful- '' yoongi's voice rings in your ear and you shake your head.

‘’Im starting to loose my damn marbles’’ you murmur, set the gear into reverse and back out of your spot before driving out of the parking lot , towards home. no music is playing because you feel like if it was on you'd miss clues on if someone is following you, also you can concentrate better that way. Thankfully it doesn't take too long for you to arrive home and you park your car into the spot that was given to you by the landlord of the housing complex.

You tighten the scarf around your neck because the cold wind picks up. Heave your purse over your shoulder as you take the two bags full of food, close the door and lock it before walking up to the building your apartment is in. As you climb up the stairs you notice how the closer you get to your apartment the louder the thumping sound is.

Its your neighbors. Two boys who love to party constantly, which is really annoying even though they're always very polite to you and sometimes when the partying gets too much, they leave you a token of gratitude for not calling the police on them. Its not all that bad though a pair of ear plugs can solve the problem pretty quick and once you're asleep its like you're dead anyways, well unless someone enters your room thats when you wake up in 0000.3 seconds.

You unlock your apartment door and get inside, take off your shoes and walk into the kitchen. You set the bags on the counter, rip the post it note from the fridge and throw it into the garbage can. You leave one ramen on the counter while you put the food into the cupboard, take a small pot and fill it with water before turning on the stove and walk out the kitchen towards your bedroom.

Putting on the light you notice that your room actually looks untouched and your sigh relieved. You get out of your clothes, carelessly throwing the on the floor and put your pajama on, which of course are black. You tie your hair into a bun, take your phone and walk back into the living room. Put on the television and realize that the water should be boiling by now.

you smile slightly when you see the water is indeed boiling, kind of proud at how accurate your timing is but thats no feat for someone who cooks ramen constantly. Literally after ten minutes the food is cooked and you put water into the pan to ‘’let it soak’’ knowing well that you’re using that an excuse to just not have to wash it now. Taking the bowl you walk over to the living room where you sit on the couch and watch the variety show thats playing on tv.

Chuckling at the funny reactions of the idols you put the now empty bowl on the small table in front of you and lay down on the couch, your hand underneath the pillow. This position , combined with your full stomach and the temperature of the living room has you growing tired and its just takes a few seconds before you fall asleep.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

The loud banging on the door wakes you up and alarmed you jump up from the couch. Looking at the clock you see that its eight in the morning and grumble ‘’Who the hell has the nerve to disturb me at ass o clock on a saturday morning somebody better be dying’’

You walk up to the door , open it and see two police officers , whose annoyed expression disappears , in front of you.

‘’ yes?’’ you ask

‘’ma’am we’d like to question you on where you were yesterday when the murder happened next door‘’

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