PeepHole Ch.1: Moving Day
Masterpost
Ch.1 - Ch.2
Pairing: Dylan Matthews x Fem Oc
Rating: 18+ (mdni)
Genre: Neighbors/Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Slow-burn
Summary: Moving isn't as exciting as Amoya thought, plus she may have pissed off her new neighbor.
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: (This story takes place in 2024) Mental illness (anxiety, ocd), Violent intrusive thoughts, Language, Age gap (5years), Using phone while driving
Status: Unedited
Author note: This is the first fic that I've ever posted, I've written before but I've never finished anything and published it so don't tear me to shreds, please. I chose to make an oc instead of just writing as a reader mainly because I made a whole character in my head before I wrote this so I decided to just make her an oc, if you would like a post going more into this oc of mine feel free to ask (I might post it anyway because I like her), there is no smut in this chapter btw. Please give me feedback and suggestions, constructive criticism, etc. Don't be a bitch about it though...please. I'm thinking of making this a series POSSIBLY, but I procrastinate a lot so that may never happen. To my fellow troublemakers hopefully, I do Dylan justice and my writing is at least a little bit accurate to his personality. Still, to be fair I'm a fairly new troublemaker having only found out about this man a few weeks ago, so if something isn't accurate please correct me...politely. He's become my new hyper fixation so when I saw there aren't really any fics about him I decided I should make my own so here we are. Anyway with that being said Enjoy <3.
Update: Dylan is barely in this chapter
Monday, February 26, 2024
Time: 8:30AM
Moving out was less relieving than you thought it would be. Having been by your mother's side for almost all your life, you'd gotten comfortable always having someone around.
'You can't live with your parents forever'
People would remind you whenever the topic of anyone's living situation would be brought up. Being twenty-seven and still living with your mother wasn't something you wanted to keep telling people, no one would take you seriously. Though your mother never pushed for you to move out, never mentioned it actually. You think you know why. You never say anything though, so you deal with the slight embarrassment, and ignore the judgmental stares you get whenever someone brings it up.
'They don't know our relationship'
More excuses you make up to justify your obstinance; and to mask the anxiety you're feeling as finish up packing your U-Haul. You had finished packing your stuff from your shared apartment and were now finishing the few boxes you had in storage. Now in the elevator mustering up the strength to carry the last two boxes back down to the truck. Grabbing the lock you had left on the floor, you place it on top of one of the boxes and stack the box onto the second one, bending down and lifting with a soft grunt. Long strides carrying you to the elevator, you push the down button with your foot. The doors open soon after, you step inside setting the boxes down as you push the bottom floor and wait. Pushing off the wall as the doors open you pick up the boxes once again, you quickly load them up into the U-Haul before grabbing the padlock from on top of the box, and then heading to the front desk of the storage building.
"Here, the unit is clean and empty." You smile at the woman as she takes the lock and keys with a thank you.
Turning on your heels you walk back to your U-Haul giving everything a once-over before locking it all up, now turning your attention to the hitch attached to the back of the Truck where your precious car is hitched too. It was a black and cherry red 1993 Nissan 240SX with a red interior, you had seen it while driving with your mom past a repair shop when you were 25, back then it had no windshield or wheels. You won't lie and say you fixed it yourself but you did invest all the money you had at that time to fix it up and color it how you wanted; you still would say it was worth it. Checking the hitch and chains attached to the bottom of the car making sure everything was set and ready.
"Everything looks good?" Your mother said making you jump
"Yah! A warning ma, please! And yes everything looks good, I packed up the last two boxes and returned the keys and lock to the front desk while you were in the bathroom." You let out a breath calming your heart from the scare you just had, your mom snickering next to you. You turn to her rolling your eyes playfully as you walk to the front of the truck, your mom following behind you.
"Good, let's get on the road." Your mom hops into the passenger seat and rolls down the window. "I wanna get home by Wednesday."
You climb into the driver's seat, buckling your seatbelt then checking your mirrors. You two had agreed on driving to your new apartment, taking turns every 5 hours, once you got there she'd help you unload and unpack on Tuesday, and your mom would then fly back to New Orleans on Wednesday. The more you think about it the more you feel yourself panic a bit.
"Okay."
Time: 9:00AM
Starting the car, you let out a breath putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot of the storage building. You could tell your mom was trying to keep herself calm by the way she would rub her right thigh with her right hand, it was a nervous tick she passed down to you. Unfortunately, you were just as nervous, so you decided to turn on the playlist you and your mom made while eating the night before, mixes of all kinds of genres put into one playlist to keep you both entertained during the drive. Pulling off the main road and merging onto the freeway, you glance over to your mom to see her smiling wide looking back at you. She has that look in her eyes, you know it well.
"Its happening ma." You smile back at your mom then look back to the road
Your mother places her hand on your thigh, letting out a long sigh and a soft squeeze before returning it back to her own lap. You see her wipe a single tear from your peripheral; you don't acknowledge it. She'll start bawling the second you tell her not to cry. So you pretend not to see it and start singing along to Erykah Badu, your mom turns the music up a bit and starts singing along too. You smile to yourself as you glance out your side window, watching as familiar buildings pass by in a blur, You think you'll miss this place. No, you know you will, but a part of you is kinda excited, relieved almost. You've silently always longed to live on your own, but another part of you calls you selfish for even wanting that until now
'How could want to leave your mother'
You know it's normal to want to move out of your parent's home, every grown adult has to move out at some point, and twenty-seven is a perfectly normal age to do so, You wanted to move when you were twenty-four. Hell, some people live with their parents till they are far in their thirties.
'But you know your mother may need you right'
All your brothers have moved out, they are doing good on their own, and you're the only one left. It was only a matter of time; you tell yourself. Your mom will be fine, she's dating a new man who treats her great and takes care of her. Hell he tried to hire a moving crew to move all your stuff, but you wanted to do it yourself and your mom wasn't going to let you drive almost halfway across the country by yourself.
'you could've found a place closer to her you know'
Phoenix, Arizona. You chose Phenix simply because it was affordable for you and close to LA, your mom agreed it was a good choice. There is work in LA, California is just so expensive, so you chose the next best thing. The apartment is nice from what you saw as well, one bedroom, two baths with a study. It was perfect for you.
Time: 11:23AM
The drive was going well so far, your mother eating a bag of chips she packed along with all the other snacks and drinks. You were eating a Honeybun, one of your favorite snacks, and drinking water. Your mom had turned off the music and started watching YouTube with mostly commentary so you could listen and drive, Right now a video was playing talking about some ice cream drama in North Dakota.
Author note: if you watched this video featuring Dylan is in Trouble, I know it's technically in the future but I don't care, this is all fake anyway.
You found it interesting and kinda funny, laughing every now and then when your mom would pause to add her opinion. About two-thirds of the way into the video you glance down at the screen, there are two guys now instead of one, and one of them is wearing glasses, you glance back down looking at the title of the video
'Insane Local Ice Cream Shop Drama (w/ Dylan Is In Trouble)'
You made a mental note of the second guy's name for later, his voice was nice you told yourself, he was also fine as fuck. You leaned your seat back as far as it would go, which wasn't very far, getting comfortable. You still have two more hours left to drive.
Time: 12:35PM
Your mom had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, YouTube was still playing, The next video had been the same guy as before. You looked down for a second, looking at the title of the video that had been playing for about fifteen minutes.
'Guessing Finales After ONE Episode (ft. Dylan Is In Trouble)'
You smile to yourself a bit recognizing the name at the end of the title, you let the video play just listening to the guy talk for ten more minutes. You caught yourself smiling again when you recognized the second guy's voice as he joined in for the rest of the video, you took a sip of your water glancing down at the video, seeing him pop on screen whenever he had something to say
"he's funny." You mutter to yourself quietly, thinking out loud.
The video had ended and your lips fell back into their original position, as an ad played before the next queued-up video, you looked down at your GPS. 1322 miles to go; you let out a sigh.
'200 miles closer to leaving you mom'
She was helping you unpack, so you technically wouldn't be leaving her really. If anything she was leaving you since she had to fly back home. You prop your left elbow on the open window, your left hand holding the steering wheel, and your right hand comes down to your thigh, rubbing small circles back and forth.
'What happens if Devon goes back home'
Your oldest brother Devon was working at a mental facility. He was on his medication and was doing good, he managed to get a job there and has been making decent money. He was doing fine, He is doing fine.
'What if he stops taking his medication again.'
They will keep tabs on him, they know his habits, his symptoms, He is fine.
'Has another episode and gets out'
That wouldn't happen. He's fine
'He'll be there when mom gets back'
No.
"Hes gonna ki-'
-beep! beep! beep!-
Time: 2:00PM
Your mom's alarm goes off, making you jump a bit. Reaching over to turn it off, your mom moans a bit as she wakes up from her short nap, stretching her arms a bit as she yawns.
"Jeste li spremni za promjenu." she yawns out, going for a sip of her water
( translation: Are you ready to switch)
Your mother's Croatian tends to slip when she's just woken up, or delirious. You nod your head looking at the next exit sign to find a gas station, spotting a Love's off the side of the freeway. Slipping off the freeway you pull up to the gas station before parking next to a pump.
"Bathroom?" You look over at your mom, she nods, unbuckling her seatbelt and hopping out of the truck, you do the same.
You both enter opposing stalls to relieve yourselves of all the water you had been drinking, washing your hands after. Your mother heads back to the truck to pump the gas as you browse the aisles for any extra snacks, spotting a honeybun you instinctively grab one, then two, and head to the cashier. You place your honeybuns on the counter and then look up at the cashier who seems to be invested in something on her phone, she wasn't wearing headphones phone volume at maybe thirty percent, you could hear what she was watching. You recognize the voice, the cashier finally looks up from her phone quickly apologizing for not paying attention.
"Oh I'm so sorry, will this be all" She quickly rings up the two honeybuns.
"No you're fine, that'll be it actually." You dismissively wave your hand pulling out your wallet to pay.
Looking down you notice her phone, she had put it on the counter, and the video on it had been paused but on the screen was that guy again, though it seemed to be a video of his own this time. You pull out some cash and hand it to the young woman behind the counter, she takes the cash, counts it, and then goes to get your change.
"No, it's fine, keep the change" Flashing a smile then grabbing your honeybuns you take another glance at the women's screen before it turns off from being left alone for too long.
Opening the passenger seat door, you climb into the seat buckling yourself in. Pulling out of the gas station your mom pulls off back onto the freeway continuing your journey. You pull out the bag you had brought for little activities, pulling out your book of choice. You had splurged at a Barnes and Noble a few weeks before you began packing, picking up a bunch of books you had either heard good things about or had been wanting to read. Red Rising was one of the books, it was also the one you were currently holding.
"I'm gonna put my headphones on, so you can listen to whatever you want." You tell your mom as you put your headphones on and pull out your phone.
You had gotten the book on Audible a while back and wanted to read and listen at the same time. Pressing play you turn to the first chapter and begin reading as the narrator spoke. Your mom seemed to have put music on, you could feel the bass as she turned up the volume and began singing along.
Time: 10:56PM
Hours had passed, it was your turn now with two hours left till your next switch. Your mother was knocked out, lightly snoring as you drove in silence, you had stopped reading once you had switched. You also decide to put off reading it until you were moved in, the book had grabbed your attention, so much so, that you wanted to be able to focus on it solely; so you chose to wait. You had a couple hundred miles left to go and things were sinking in more as you drove silently. Your mind doing its usual thing, making you worry about things that most likely won't happen, even if it did, you know it wouldn't be your fault. You couldn't help but think maybe it would be though, it was a dumb thought but you couldn't help it
'What was that guys name again'
Your brain blanked for a second, random but ok, your brain goes back to the YouTube video your mom had been watching, that cashier was watching him as well. Dylan is in Trouble, you wonder what kind of videos he makes, most likely commentary. You pull your phone out glancing down and go to YouTube, you use the voice to text and hold your phone up to your mouth.
"Dylan is in trouble"
You press search, going back and forth between looking at your phone and watching the road. You look down to find his channel, press his icon, and scroll through some of his videos. Movie commentary is what you mostly see, occasionally you'd spot something different, you decided you'd dive into his channel later when you weren't driving.
Time: 5:00AM
You were in the driver's seat, you had let your mom sleep more after she had been driving for about three hours. She was up now though, you could tell things were starting to catch up to her again. She was fidgeting a lot more now, well so were you, she looked very tense. She helped you find this apartment, but you assume she wants to see the neighborhood for herself, in person, wants to see how good the security is and what the neighbors are like. It's only natural, she's a mother and her only daughter is moving twenty hours away from her. You look down at your phone, your GPS says you are pulling up now, you look around the area, it was very nice, wasn't too far from the city. You spot the complex to the left, it was pretty big with multiple sections with apartments, you were building three, kind of in the middle of everything. You pull into the complex parking in front of the leasing office to speak to your landlord and to get your keys, your mom comes with you of course, sizing everything up.
"Hi welcome to Arts District Apartments, it's Amaya correct, my name is George?" An old-looking man stands from his desk, his hand reaching out to shake yours
"Thank you, George, it's Amoya actually" You reach out and shake his hand with a smile.
You two talk a bit about the complex and its rules etc. Your mom chimed in every now and then to ask her questions. Before you know it you're unloading the truck into your new apartment, you're realizing now that you didn't have as much stuff as you thought. The last thing you had left was your bed, you and your mom had been doing well with just the two of you, but after you two had gotten the mattress inside your mother's back began to bother her. Now you had your bed frame, you told your mom to relax for now and that you could get the frame up yourself. Partial lie, you previously took apart the bed frame and so there were mainly long pieces that weren't too heavy except the backboard, that thing was heavy as fuck, luckily you had a dolly at the storage building to help you carry it out, but now you have to carry it to the elevator and down the hall. You managed to get it down from the truck, and from there you lifted it and sped walked to the elevator, almost dropping the bed frame on your foot as you set it down to push the button. The doors had closed on you twice as you tried to pick the frame back up and lift it into the elevator, but alas you made it, now on the third floor and outside the elevator. You took pride in your body, you considered yourself strong, regularly went to the gym, and you would say your legs were the strongest part of your body, with that being said, you tried to make as little noise as possible since it was still early in the morning, you lost your footing. You were almost there, your door being right in front of you; but you fell. Landing on the door behind you hitting your head with a very loud thud.
"Bumbo." You whisper yelled at yourself in Jamaican as you set the frame down and leaned off of the door.
(translation: Fuck)
Holding the frame upright you walk around it reaching for your door, the frame slipping from your fingers and falling against your neighbor's door again. You prayed that your new neighbor was either a very deep sleeper or wasn't home right now, though maybe you didn't pray hard enough. You lift the bed frame from your neighbor's door, getting your phone to get your mom to hold the door open for you so you can slide it the rest of the way inside. Stopping, you hear the door behind you click open. Your bed frame blocked your view of whoever had stepped out, but you could hear him.
Ch.1 - Ch.2
Updated Author note: Hopefully this was an enjoyable first chapter or part. The apartment is just a random apartment complex I saw on Zillow, everything in this is all fictional besides the YouTube videos and things that are obviously real. Anyway, I have decided to make this a series, I've gone into too much detail on little things like Amoya's intrusive thoughts and all that, and it'd be a waste to shorten and delete half of what I put and speed through everything, Amoya's intrusive thoughts and anxiety is a trait I added from myself, so you'll notice a lot of internal thinking and scenarios she makes up in her head. Hopefully, the idea is as cool as what I thought of in my head. If this does well, I will upload the other chapters one after the other, If it does bad I'll just delete everything, but please be patient I procrastinate a lot and I want the writing to be good. Please be honest and let me know how you all feel about this, if you like the writing, the main character, the pacing, the storyline, length, anything, and everything, I need criticism but don't be a bitch about it.
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Love is Gone
summary: a short story about losing feelings based on the song Love is Gone by SLANDER and Dylan Matthew
pairing: min yoongi (suga) x reader
genre/warnings: angst(?), idol!yoongi, established relationship
a/n: this is my first work on tumblr and my first fanfic in over five years. still figuring things out but i hope you enjoy it!! :))
wc: ~1.5K
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You knew Yoongi was not the most expressive person in the world. He often felt like a wise old soul trapped in the body of a thirty year old. He was quiet and serious in his own way but he has really opened up in the past years. He smiles more, makes more of an effort to be around people.
When you met him your first impression of him was cold and distant, he seemed like the type of man that would observe a situation first before he acted. He gave off the aura of someone that has been through hell and back. As you got to know him you found out that he was a man of many sacrifices.
He’d gone through everything you could possibly imagine to get to where he is now. He’s made six lifelong friends and has a successful career in music, but in the process he’s lost so much. This didn’t mean that he didn’t find anything along the way. He’d grown as a person and has learned and unlearned a lot about himself. If asked, you would say Yoongi was a different person from when you first met him; but still, he was unapologetically himself.
It wasn’t easy getting to know him, but loving him came naturally. It took a while to break his walls down––even now you’re not entirely sure if those walls have completely caved in. You’ve known Yoongi for five years now, been with him for three. He was your support system, the one that got you through your tough times. The constant in a world centered around change. You knew you could trust Yoongi with your heart and soul.
So why was this happening?
It started small.
He zoned out while you were talking about your next passion project––a short film that tackled your fear of growing old without someone to love and someone who loved you in return. You were talking about it animatedly to Yoongi in his Hybe studio. You’d brought some dinner over because he was working overtime. It wasn’t unusual for him to get wrapped up in work, take out was nothing new to the both of you.
He’s tired, you reasoned.
With a small smile you stopped talking. Usually Yoongi was enthusiastic when it came to listening to your passion projects. Sure, he’d zone out before but never about a film you wanted to make. It was starting to become more frequent, you noted. It wasn’t out of character for him to be out of it but the recurrence of it was starting to worry you.
“Are you okay?”
It took a moment before he shrugged and gave you a faint smile.
“Let’s go home?”
He knew it wasn’t a question. He gave a curt nod before saving his progress and closing his computer. He had a small studio in your shared apartment. It wasn’t like the one he had in Hybe but it was enough to work from home on days he didn’t want to be away from you.
However, recently it was starting to feel like that room tore you apart instead.
With his enlistment coming soon, Yoongi was focused on creating as much content as he could. He’d be working late nights in his Hybe studio only to come home and continue working in his home studio. You understood how important his work was to him, it was something you knew and accepted even before you began dating. You never competed with his work and would always be there to support him.
Then it was the little things.
Yoongi used to call you his muse, he’d share his music with you before anyone else. He’d lay out the first draft of his lyrics in front of you as if he hadn’t just shared with you the rawest and purest form of his emotions. In his mind you were one and the same. He wasn’t letting someone in his space, it was him and you. One singular unit.
You don’t remember when it started but you realize you don’t know the words to any of his newest songs. He no longer consults his craft with you; now it was him and you. Two separate beings. It wasn’t long before he had released a song you knew nothing about on his personal SoundCloud––the one only known by you and the other members of BTS.
You received a call from Jimin excited about the new song, asking if you had known about it all along––of course you knew about it, who was he kidding?
He didn’t notice the hesitation in your voice, the way it falters as you give a soft laugh and pretend you heard about it. You listened to the song as soon as the call ended and your heart falls.
You don’t know what it’s about.
Then it became bigger.
Yoongi usually made sure you would sleep beside each other whenever possible. No matter how tired he was or how late he’d get off of work, he made sure to spend even just ten minutes of rest on your shared bed. He wasn’t always there when you woke up but he made sure you never felt that the bed was too big for you.
You weren’t usually a light sleeper but it started a couple weeks ago when you woke up needing to use the bathroom. Yoongi wasn’t in bed anymore. He wasn’t the type to go back to work when he already packed up for the night. Still, you found him in his home studio, the computer opened to another sound file unknown to you.
You don’t disturb him, afraid to break his concentration. You go back to bed feeling more lonely than you thought you’d be.
You started sleeping lightly after that. Yoongi no longer stayed in bed with you. He’d get up in the middle of the night and stay in his studio. Sometimes you even find him curled on the small sofa that was initially more for decoration than for sleeping.
It was another one of those nights. You felt him shift on his side of the bed. You felt the sheets move and heard the rustle of his indoor slippers on the floor. Soon you hear the door creak and the sound of his footsteps fade into nothing.
“Don’t go tonight.”
Your plea falls on deaf ears, no one is there to listen.
~ o ~
“What did I do?”
Your voice is firm and a silence hangs over the two of you. This wasn’t the silence you were used to. No––silence with Yoongi was supposed to be quiet, comfortable, safe.
Yoongi’s mouth opens slightly, only for him to close them again soon after. He’s struggling with his words, grasping for answers. He wanted to tell you so badly that it wasn’t you, it could never be your fault, but he couldn’t find the words to express himself. He didn’t know how to stop you from hurting, he didn’t know what he should do knowing that he was causing your pain.
He wanted to say he was sorry. He didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. Feelings fade, people change. There was nothing he could do. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, tell you everything was going to be okay. Before anything, you were his friend. But he knew he shouldn’t.
Instead he remains quiet, unable to meet your gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“Don’t leave me.”
Nothing.
“I want you here with me.”
Your voice finally cracks, the tears starting to fall.
You can’t breathe. You feel sick to your stomach. You knew this happened but you never thought it’d happen to you. No, this can’t be real. You’ve been a good person your whole life. Sure, you’re no saint but you avoided hurting people as much as you can. You do good deeds every now and then––sharing your umbrella with a stranger, being there for a friend. You’ve never saved someone from a burning building but you’ve never harmed anyone intentionally.
You feel weak. If you weren’t already sitting your knees would’ve given out. You try to wrap your head around it, try to process how it could’ve happened. It was slow, it started small. It was the zoning out. The secrecy when it came to his music. The late night work sessions. It was everything. You saw it coming, you should have, but you denied it with every fiber of your being. How could he just decide he didn’t love you anymore?
“I’m sorry,” his voice was barely above a whisper. He leaves you there, lost and in pain.
You know this isn’t easy. Sobs wracked your body. This was the one moment you’d allow yourself to break, you told yourself. You cry your heart out, clutching at your shirt, the pain swelling in your chest. You promised yourself you’d be strong, that you’d let it out then let it go. But it wasn’t that easy. As you hug yourself tighter you know it won’t be a linear process. Your heart was broken and Yoongi had taken a piece of you with him. You can make all these promises to yourself and still break but you’d move on. You have to.
Your voice catches in your throat, you wish Yoongi would hear you and deny it.
“Your love is gone.”
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